#he acts all tough but he's a big fucking baby on the inside even when his mind is mostly mush lol

[pe4nutastic]

So I made another writing thing, but like WAY longer than I originally thought it'd be. Conventionally, I've never really written things that involves me balancing more than one character lol so I'm not sure how adept I am at the balancing act yet.

All the same, this writing thing takes place in sort of alternate universe where Giegue survives M2 (originating from my old, now defunct, RP blog @anearthstruckalien) and is stuck in a kind of limbo where he needs to put his own destroyed mind back together. This is one of the many fragments he addresses.

Everything is muddled like an unwound thread, always unraveling without apparent end, splayed in all directions like spiderwork and tangled into painful knots where it had been unfortunate enough to cross into its own endless trajectory.  Muddled away into agony and nothingness.  Drenched in darkness and blood, only punctuated by a distorted painful buzzing of so much something. Hot and cold. Wet and dry.  Sparking yet dimmed.  Suffocating and all-encompassing, like a tomb.  Something short and flitting at some points, rising and lowering like especially mercurial tides, and endless at others unlike anything even the deepest and darkest depths of the oceans have ever seen.  Thoughts cannot be formed… whatever that is supposed to be.  Identity cannot be found, whatever that is supposed to be.  Memories cannot be fit together.  Whatever that is supposed to be.  He cannot discern how long it has been.  He cannot even conceptualize how something like that is measured or what it means, even as it passes through him like wind, there and yet not in an instant.

And then.  Abruptly, as if forcibly cutting to the next scene of a film in an especially jarring way with bemoaning screeeeeeeech upon reaching the terminal of some arbitrary counter, a sharp pang brings a few things to focus.  And now, he can perceive and process his environment.  A shred of clarity.  A void-like place, painted in an inky and seemingly never-ending darkness–one tinged in an oddly despairing and desolate hue somehow–and littered with glistening bits of bright shards.  Incomprehensibly bright and ever-shifting in colour and form; iridescence incarnate.  Glimmers of that which is missing, seemingly unable to fit with each other anymore yet drawn to one another anyways with the sense that with enough effort, somehow it could all fit together and become recognizable anew.  And altogether with it all, the first proper thought–as opposed to a mess of disjointed sensations and tortuous pain–springing to mind with a sudden start, something indescribably heavy like a pit coursing through what little remains of his very being intact:

Am… I… dying…?  Ceasing to… be…?

He squints or rather… would, if he had any associated visual to him.  As it stands now, it would seem that the being known as the Universal Cosmic Destroyer, is little more than a flicker of consciousness.  The tiniest and most fragile ember from a flame which had previously been extinguished, now sparking anew against all odds and probability.  Against the schematics of fate which had dictated that he die in the battle against the Earth’s latest set of Chosen Ones.  Dying.  Finality.  Somehow that seems daunting–though he can’t recall why–yet he cannot feel alarmed by it at all by his own questions nonetheless.  He had just regained (or gained?) the ability to properly process his environment and string together thoughts after all.  And either way, somehow he knows that this isn’t the end anyways.  Or at least, not yet.  All he has is a feeling.  One padded out by that which sparked that ember of consciousness, fragile as it is, into being.  A sense of resilience and indomitable spirit that refuses to bend or break, no matter how hard it is chipped away at by the harshest of elements:  willpower and determination.

The will to not die (but from what?).  The determination to endure and survive.

And somehow, without definitive rhyme and reason, part of that lies in the glimmering points of iridescent radiances before him, scattered about like stardust in the void.  He shifts his gaze towards the one closest to him, feeling something almost like a magnetic pull towards it, and as though on cue… –the very moment he eyelessly stares at it for more than a few seconds, the scene before him is softly wiped clean like chalk off a blackboard and replaced with far less monotonous and simplistic scenery:

A brightly lit room adorned by ivory wallpaper dotted with artfully-administered strokes of tiny multicoloured carnations, light brown hardwood floors, and containing little more than a small window with nothing to see but golden radiance of some kind shining through and a tiny wooden table full of various desserts and cups of tea; one cup before the entity himself and the other… before a blonde woman in a neatly-pressed pale pink dress ruffled at its ends and hanging just past her knees.

Dark blue eyes squint anew with a shrewd sense of calculation as he assesses the room anew, trying to piece together what had exactly happened to shift the location, but unable to come to an answer.  A train of thought that inevitably comes to an abrupt halt anyways when he catches sight of himself in the murky reflection of the tea soothingly settled in the ivory nook provided by its petite cup.  Shock jolts through him almost immediately, eyes widening just a smidge, as he almost jumps straight out of his plush seat.  Small fingers tap at his face and pull his cheek in an almost clinical way, as though jumpstarting a more thorough tactile examination.  He looks quite a bit like the blonde woman.  He looks… what was the word for it?  Human.  A young human boy to be precise.  Fluffy blonde hair.  A set of blue eyes set in white sclera and black pupils. A nose and mouth set into a relatively flat profile and smooth skin.  Real skin tinged with warmth, but with minimal color rising to its surface.  Human.  Somehow it feels like an illusion and yet he cannot recall every being anything else save for the formlessness he had experienced a moment prior.  Has he always been human?  It doesn’t feel like it, but…

…–and almost as soon as that particular thought starts, it comes to a grinding halt when, after what feels like an eternity of confusion and strangeness (but in actuality was little more than a few seconds worth of time), the blonde woman speaks up.

“Ah you’ve finally arrived!  I’m so happy to see you here!  It’s been a long time huh?”

She tucks a few strands of gently curling blonde hair behind an ear and all the while, the now human-boy tilts his head to the side a little at the inquiry.  A long time?  A long time for what?  He taps small stubby fingers against the solid wooden top of the table or rather, the long and lacey pale pink tablecloth daintily hanging over it, dull gaze averting in an oddly concentrated way as though attempting to grasp onto something.  Bit-by-bit, it feels like something is trickling in so as to fill an emptiness he had not realized he had, but not up to pace enough to leave him anything but perpetually confused and disoriented nonetheless.  There must be a more… a more… –efficient? yes, efficient method to this but it would seem that he has little more than the ability to think and process at the moment, knowledge itself lacking save for what inevitably trickles in.

“Are you comfortable?  I’ve prepared your favourite tea and some desserts that you’ve always liked just for this occasion.  So feel free to take as much as you want of whatever you want.  Nothing ever runs out here --take my word for it!”

She winks, one bright and lively blue eye–practically brimming with a zest for life and unwavering optimism for whatever the future may bring–of two, momentarily being obscured by the attached flap of skin before re-emerging.  In return, the human boy stares blankly at her for a few seconds before seemingly relenting his inscrutable gaze–unable to find whatever it is he was looking for–before gingerly plucking a shortbread cookie off its pristine plate, intrigued by both the dessert and by what the blonde woman had said.  By the very notion of having information that he lacks.  Something about that feels right… familiar… but he can’t quite place why exactly.  Lifting the cookie directly before him, rather than immediately consuming it, the human boy examines it with just a glint of intrigue in his comparatively dull pupils.

“My ‘favourites’...?  I have a favourite?  How would you know?”

A genuine question.  The entity rather delicately nibbles on the perfectly-formed edge of the cookie, swirling the tiny bit on the tip of his tongue, before taking a proper bite out of it afterwards.  One which he hopes will at the very least serve as a good point of reference or direction towards easing away that thick fog cluttering his mind.  The cookie is… hm… ‘good’.  It tastes good.  Familiar.  Safe.  Safe…?  Safe.  Dark blue voids flicker back up to meet the blonde woman’s gaze.  She seems to have no immediate response, thick eyebrows knitted in thought albeit without ever breaking her gaze on the entity himself, before settling on something, smile dimming a little to something less exuberant and more gentle and understanding.

“It’s a liiiittle tricky to explain if you even need to ask in the first place… but, I know what I do about you because in a way, I’m a part of you.

The one part that’s never changed… –that never could.

No matter how much everything else got rearranged.

…it’s never changed.  You were still you.  You still are.”

She taps a finger over where the human heart would be located, over the left side of her chest as she makes a claim of being part of the entity himself.  And she does just that, something lights up in softened iridescence over that point, in the shape of a stylized heart, the same occurring immediately to the entity himself in the exact same point and thus emphasizing the verity of her very point, dark blue voids widening just a smidge in surprise before giving way to a small pensive frown.  He sharply glances down to his own chest as the light fades away.  Part of him…?  He taps the same spot a few times.  But, he’s right here and yet… even though it seems nonsensical, it somehow seems to make perfect sense anyways.  Instinctively so.  The answer isn’t as direct as he had been hoping, but maybe it’s meant to be this way.  Meant to be?  There’s a word for that.  Destiny.  A bitter taste in his mouth.  Fate.  A sensation that twists and churns his guts (if he had any to begin with) with intense fervor for reasons he cannot entirely parse out… –doesn’t matter.  It doesn’t apply in this situation anyways.  Because this is on a significantly smaller scale anyways.

The entity takes a small sip of the hot and soothing tea before him, a cooling sensation immediately hitting afterwards despite its true temperature setting.  Peppermint.  Much like the shortbread cookies, it indeed seems pleasant to his palate.  Between this, what he captured beyond this world in the form of glittery fragments amidst a void, and the growing conglomerate sensation (familiarity, safety, trust) towards the blonde woman… it seems that there’s more merit than ‘meets the eye’ to this interaction.  Clarity starts with this.  Perhaps that’s why he was the most drawn to this fragment.  Another small sip of the peppermint tea.  Perhaps that’s why not receiving a direct answer is the most conducive to dispersing that thick fog over his mind.  Towards feeling less empty.

“Perhaps.  But, if what you are saying is accurate, then I must be incomplete.

In… pieces.

It is what my… ‘gut’ is telling me… though it also ‘feels’... incorrect to rely on such a thing.”  He glances back down at the tea, settled shortly after his last sip, and down to his murky reflection in it before shaking his head.  “This form feels incorrect.  As though I should have a different shape...”

Yet another sip of the peppermint tea, head tilting slightly to the side afterwards as he continues to speak, any uncertainty from before evaporating to be replaced by what seems to be rather characteristic of him; blank neutrality and flatness.

“Being in pieces is not my natural state, is it?  Is this interaction a way of pulling everything back together?”

The blonde woman takes a sip of her own tea.  Chamomile tea.  He can tell what it is somehow, without having tasted it and even before its smell registers with him.  It’s her favourite.  Just like the carnations dotting the worn wallpaper.  She taps her head for a moment as she responds, a hint of playfulness entering her tone as she does so.

“Maybe.  Maybe not. I can’t just tell you directly, but I can give that knowledge as an exchange of sorts.”

The entity lifts up his own cup of tea anew, as though planning to drink it, before deigning to just swirl the liquid around a bit as if mulling something over before responding, a twinge of determination entering his tone as he does so.  Of course not.  He isn’t being fed direct answers, but being directed towards them after all.

“What kind of exchange?”

Her smile widens, matching the playful tone as it continues to seep into her next few words.

“We can play a game and if you win, then I’ll be more direct with you.  A game of…”

She pauses, frowning a bit herself in a rather pensive manner as if mulling over a few options herself to determine which one would be best for truly helping the entity, before settling on something and with that, clasping her hands together with renewed enthusiasm. 

“... –of riddles!  It’s a pretty simple points-based game with two roles:  the one that makes up the riddles, the Riddle Master, and the one that answers them.

The Riddle Master gets points by making up riddles that the other player can’t answer while the player gets points by successfully giving the correct answer to the Riddle Master’s riddles.  No one loses points, you either get them or you don’t.

In this game, I’ll be the Riddle Master and you’ll be the one answering.  There’ll be a total of 5 riddles.  How does that sound for you?”

The entity hesitates very little, taking just a moment to mentally go over the exact parameters of the suggested game, before offering a definitive nod.  He’s already determined that judging by every minute improvement in his state here… it’s best to simply ‘play’ along, no matter how counterproductive it may seem.  He implicitly trusts her, even if the reason why exactly cannot be parsed out, and so this aspect to him must represent someone that was (and perhaps still is) important to him.

“I accept your arrangement.  Proceed with the ‘game’.”

The blonde woman takes another sip of her chamomile tea, gulping the rest of it down in one fell swoop before gently moving aside the empty cup… one which stays empty for only a second or so before the familiar steam of freshly crafted tea wafts through the air anew, as if no progress had been made on it to begin with.  ‘As much as you want’ huh?  The entity consumes the rest of his shortbread cookie, as if to test the theory for himself, and in line with what he had just seen… the empty spot on the plate from which he had plucked it is immediately filled with a new shortbread cookie as its replacement; a reinforcement that this is a matter of the mind… he thinks.  At this juncture, he only has sensations and hunches –not true concrete data to confirm if there is anything more than this.  He smoothes out the neck of his grey sweater before folding his own hands together with definitive intent and concentration, dark blue voids narrowing accordingly.  All the more reason to ‘play along’ and succeed in this game.

“Alright!  Let’s get to it then.  I’ll keep the first three riddles simple and easy; a good warm-up before getting to the trickier ones.

What… disappears as soon as you say its name?

That’s it.  That’s all you’re getting to work out the answer!”

The entity immediately gets to thinking over the answer.  A riddle is an inquiry that appeals to logic, problem-solving, or both.  And so, it either has an answer that’s so obvious one wouldn’t even consider it or clues scattered throughout as the characteristics of what the answer is supposed to be.  Judging by the minimal nature of this riddle… it must be the former.  The answer is obvious.  Something in plain sight.  An auditory component to it.  Speaking aloud the name of the subject will make it disappear and so, it can only exist so long as one doesn’t speak… ah.  He almost smiles, satisfied, even by such a trivial accomplishment.

“The answer is ‘silence’.  Not making any sound is a condition inherent to maintaining it therefore, it ceases to be once sound is made.”

The blonde woman gives an affirmative nod in agreement, sticking two closed fists with thumbs sticking out as if to reaffirm the point.  The entity isn’t entirely certain as to what he should make of the gesture, but based off her body language, he can only deduce that it is a positive gesture.  One whose continued enthusiasm is admittedly a little endearingly infectious though he doesn’t quite outwardly show it yet.  He doesn’t feel as though he is the sort to ‘warm up’ quickly to others, but something about this comes just as naturally as trust did, tinged with a sense of ‘deja vu’, as though he’s done this many times over before.  Something about this contents him, the familiarity and warmth prevalent throughout their entire interaction thus far playing no small role in this, even though the game has just started.

“That’s right aaaand one point for you!  You’re a natural at this –I knew you would be!  You’ve always been clever.  But, can you handle this one too?  

What has many keys, but can’t open a single lock?”

Hm.  Yet another question with very minimal clues and in lieu of that, an obvious answer to it.  Keys and locks.  A key?  A key is… a key is… hm… oh! something that is used to open places safeguarded by a matching lock!  Keys and locks are a pair, one shape fitting the other in order to move the mechanism keeping its interconnected block in place against those without the necessary key.  Small fingers pensively tap his chin.  But, in this case… the key in question has no matching lock.  Several keys without matching locks to be specific.  A quality inherent to the object in question and not the result of some defect or damage, if he has analyzed the phrasing correctly.

Admittedly… be it due to his gaps in actual knowledge or not, he cannot imagine anything which would have multiple useless keys attached to it.  But then… perhaps the term ‘keys’ does not refer to what his initial instinct falls upon.  Maybe he needs to consider alternate contexts of it…–an abrupt pause mid-thought, by the sound of the blonde woman tapping her fingers over top the table’s wooden surface.  A rhythmic and intentional motion…

… –as though, she’s creating music.  An oddly familiar tune, sweet yet bitter in a way he can almost grasp, like words just at the tip of his tongue.  Understanding clicks into place.  Playing an instrument.  With keys. 

“A piano.  The answer is a ‘piano’.”

No need to explain this time.  The abrupt, almost enthused despite the blandness of his tone, way in which the entity himself answered, cutting straight through the tapping says it all.  He’s certain in his conclusion with no need to explain it to the one that created the riddle in the first place.  And as such, he receives another set of ‘thumbs up’.  Something which sparks a bit of brightness in his heart anew; contentment and satisfaction at succeeding.

“Correct!  Two points now!

For someone that doesn’t remember much, you’re pretty good at this game, but remember, this is the last easy question before things get more challenging okay?”

A playful wink on her part while the entity does little more than offer a curt nod, much of his attention glued more to whatever the next question may be.  It’s difficult to parse out the exact words for this sensation, but it’s hooked him in rather quickly; a combination of its familiarity and the mental exercise it offers.

“What do you call two birds in love?”

And with that question, the blonde woman uses her respective thumbs and and index fingers to form the shape of a heart as if to emphasize the ‘love’ part.  The entity himself stares at the motion, from start to end, with a blank stare despite his enjoyment of the game before focusing in on piecing it out.  It doesn’t seem like a true riddle.  The question does not seem to have an object inherent to its answer, but a term instead.  He rubs his chin.  An odd departure or perhaps a format that he cannot recall, due to his fragmented state of being at the moment.  He thinks on it for a few seconds more before shaking his head, a touch disappointed in himself, and ultimately relenting.

“Apologies.  I do not know.  Would you be so kind as to enlighten me on the matter?”

A short and sweet–almost as musical as her voice, like gentle wind chimes–burst of laughter bubbles out her mouth at that before its obscured by an arm, bare skin far less effective than actual fabric would have been were the sleeves of her dress not short.  Nonetheless, once the blonde woman regains her composure enough, the answer comes out in one similarly short burst as if retelling an especially thrilling punchline to a joke.

“Tweet-hearts!  Get it?  Because they’re birds and in love –like sweet hearts haha!”

Another short and sweet burst of laughter, her hand gently smacking the table with a soft yet no less resounding thunk, clearly thoroughly enjoying the joke herself.  The entity on the other hand… though he understands the concept of it and the wordplay that inspired it, mouth twitching a bit, before he just turns his head to the side.  And he does so in a rather petulant and oddly childish way, as if overcome with an emotion from a separate moment in time tipped in deja vu, before huffing through his nose to forcibly dissipate any genuine amusement that may (or may not) have been felt by him.

“That is not a riddle.  It is wordplay.  You tricked me.”

In response, the blonde woman sticks up a single finger and wags it side-to-side, having long since gotten the last bit of her amusement out of her system, evidently finding great amusement in jokes like this.

“Uh-uh!  By definition, a riddle is a question or statement with a clever twist to it. And all clever twists need ingenuity to properly entangle, don’t you think?”

Incapable of actually keeping up the petulant facade–the emotion as insincere as everything else might as well be about him at this juncture–where the human woman herself is concerned, the entity ultimately relents and turns back to her with a nod.

“... I suppose.  Does it count against me then?”

She shakes her head, high energy dimmed a little but no less bright and warm in her overall demeanor nonetheless.

“It’s just a joke –a bit of humour!  Pretty punny don’t you think?  Don’t worry, this one doesn’t count against you.  You still have two points.  Two for you.  Zero for me.

Are you ready to move onto the next riddle?  Two more left.  And remember, it gets more challenging from here on out.”

The most immediate answer that pops to mind is a resounding ‘yes’.  And yet, the entity finds himself halted by a sudden and odd sense of melancholic emptiness, one which almost completely replaces the contentment he had experienced before.  He downs the rest of his peppermint tea, somewhat hoping to distract himself from the uncomfortable sensation, but ultimately failing.  How familiar.  The sense of deja vu is even stronger than before and it’s only really hitting him now.  It isn’t just the game itself, but the exact questions and wordplay interjection that’s familiar.  Nonsensical as it sounds, this exchange feels as though it’s happened before in every exact step…at least on the blonde woman’s part.  The entity himself has changed.  Somehow, he’s certain of it… certain that when (if) this actually happened in reality… he more closely mirrored the blonde woman’s demeanor.  He glances back down at the now empty cup before it immediately refills itself with the steaming and soothing aroma of the peppermint infused liquid.  The entity himself has changed, even before the fragmentation event, and likely for the worst.  He takes a renewed cursory glance at his surroundings, one with renewed clarity even through the still ever-present fog in his mind.

The surroundings make a lot less sense now.  The odd minimalism and the overly bright hues to everything (now that he really looks at it) as if it all has a subtle glow to it… the lack of anything beyond pure radiance outside the window… it seems less like reality and more like a dream.  A thing of the mind after all.  Something in his chest tightens.  Hesitation encased in dread cutting through what remains of his contentment before he mentally presses on with a determined nod, ready to hear the next riddle.

“A star twinkles in the distance, a wonder of its existence. In exchange for a bird, the silence of a child. A question of the sheep's provisions.

What is it?”

More challenging indeed.  The format is far less simple, especially when he’s on the cusp of what feels vaguely like an awakening of sorts.  A stab through delusion which, if he is to fully submit to the idea that this isn’t what reality is actually like, he must not have wanted to recover from on some level.  Not if it took for him this long to figure it out if he really is as supposedly clever as she claims.  And yet, despite the cloudiness introduced to his logical processes, the answer comes much quicker than before with little introspection needed on his part.  Like he already knows it… because he almost certainly already does.  Quick as it comes however, some of that hesitation from before rushes back with a biting vengeance.   It… hurts?  Something does.  The game is almost over after all and yet, his determination to see it through remains anyways.  Feeble as it may be… the entity nonetheless, pushes on anyways like before.

“...a lullaby.”

Almost despondently so, his gaze averting off to the side, but never fully breaking the blank neutrality of his tone.  Then silence for a bit.  A much needed reprieve and yet, one which even in the absence of the final riddle, only lasts for a short burst of time or so before his mind wanders back to the blonde woman’s tapping from before.  With a bit more clarity gained now… he not only realizes that she was giving him a hint as to what the answer to the second riddle was, but that he actually knows the words.  Sweet yet painful.  More clear images–and with it, the surroundings losing their subtle glow and coming more into focus–starting to filter through like film from an old movie that might have once been in pristine condition, but has now long since degraded, cutting off at certain points while slanting in an unsightly way at others.  Another pang of clarity.  He almost doesn’t want to play anymore.  To stop it at this before things go too far… before he is far too gone to return to being more contented and… and… normal.

N o r m a l.  He’s always wanted to be normal, but they would not let him.

A discordant thought.  One which he neatly sweeps aside, finding it easier to do so as opposed to letting it run any further, before forcing his attention back on the game.  Despite everything… he still, at the end of it all, feels inclined to finish.  He has to finish because this is important.  More than he had initially surmised in his far less lucid state upon arriving here.  At that conclusion, as if on cue, the blonde woman starts on the next riddle with no further lighthearted comments or jabs, her expression going completely inscrutable yet no less determined as if she knows the end is near in more ways than one.  An awakening is coming and though it’s a bit hard to pop the entity’s bubble… though it feels cruel… she must press on.  It’s better this way.

“Three points.  Onto the last riddle

I’m always old yet sometimes new.

Never sad yet sometimes blue.

Never empty but sometimes full.

Never pushy but always pulling.

Always here even when I’m gone.

What am I?”

The entity’s eyes widen as though he’s just been sloshed with a bucket of ice-cold water.  Inexplicably so.  Nothing about the wording is especially offensive and yet something tightens in his chest anyways.  The very feeling which had been building up over the course of this whole interaction peaking and exploding by the very last sentence of the riddle, small hand reaching up to tightly grip just over his chest, where his heart would be were he actually as human as he appears.  The moon.  Gone.  He knows it.  Not real.  She’s gone.  He knows that this is the answer with 100% certainty and yet the answer is caught in his throat anyways, as blocked and paralyzed as he’s abruptly become as something inscrutable splits, fracturing like glass or like one layer of a haze which had hung over him ever since he had gained cognizance anew.  She’s gone.  The moon in all of its mundane glory.  A basic satellite that orbits the earth.  Her home.  She’s gone.  A rock inhospitable to humans and littered with maria, dark flat regions that look like bodies of water from a distance–

…–maria? He shakes his head to himself.  No.  Not maria, but Maria.  Maria.

Maria.  She’s gone.  Always here.  Always gone.

It all cliiiiiiicks into place.  Not in full–that much requires a far lengthier and more arduous journey–but enough to properly identify that which pertains to the blonde woman before him.  His hands curl into tight fists by his sides, posture going completely rigid as he shakes his head, as though that would somehow magically make this particular ‘awakening’ stop.  To Maria.  His dearest mother.  His only family.  The one and only bit of good in his life before everything was irreversibly poisoned.

Poisoned by them.

And as if in direct response to that particular thought, rising up against it amidst everything else, something abruptly breaks on the inside and against all odds, out gushes a sensation even more overwhelming than what’s just hit him.  Overwhelming enough to push aside that odd melancholic emptiness, bitterness, and despair which had all too fast begun to fill him.  A jumbled patchwork of emotions that shouldn’t fit together yet do all the same nonetheless, tumbling out at various intensities and moments without rhyme or reason.  And it is all because of her, with one particular emotion far above the others at the core and helm of it all.  The very base origin behind everything felt now.  The planet to everything else which revolves around it.

An all-encompassing, rich, and impossibly deep sensation, almost suffocating in its concept, almost too overwhelming to contain within his fragile body yet somehow it manages to be anyways.  It permeates every fibre of his being.  It exists in every crevice and space where it could fit within the essence which constitutes who he is.

Warmer than the simple, bright, and short sprigs of happiness from before.

More passionate than the most concentrated poisons of hatred.

Beyond all comprehension and in complete violations of all logical conventions;  the very pinnacle of irrationality, evolved beyond its initial spark and into its final transcendent format.

Love.

Yes.  That’s right.  It’s clear to him now.  More than anything else, he loves her.  He had forgotten that he did, for a bit, but now that he is no longer blinded by… other things… he realizes that there is nothing more important than that.

Nothing more important than her.

That is what has come gushing out with such vigor.  The true form of his feelings towards his adoptive human mother.  That is the precise name of that sensation.  It only hurts because he loves her.  It hurts because it mattered.

Because it still does.

Despite everything, it still matters.

She still matters.

“Maria.  Mother.”

He hesitates, sadness sharply pinpricking his heart with renewed enthusiasm against the seemingly endless onslaught of love as if attempting to strike a particular emotional balance and with it, a strange and foreign wetness forming at the corners of his eyes.  Liquid.  Strange, upsetting, and rending liquid.  Are his optical receptors broken…somehow, even here in a dream…?  He rather tentatively glances down at his refilled cup of peppermint tea to discern the true identity of the mysterious liquid, almost jumping back as he does so, his chair making a muffled skidding sound on the floor as the only indication of his shock.  His appearance is no longer human.  He appears as he feels he should, but perhaps a bit small?  A small clawed digit pokes at an upright and triangular ear, then at his stubby snout, large dark blue voids (the same colour through every part of his eyes, from the sclera to the pupils) narrowing in the welcome distraction that this provides before closing his eyes with a sigh, the clear liquid dripping out and staining the otherwise pristine pink tablecloth before him.  Fists somehow becoming even tighter, claws digging into the palms of his hands without drawing blood.

“Are you really here?”

The question comes tumbling out, rigid neutrality finally properly breaking a bit under the enormous weight of what can only be his own grief reborn–having originally never been permitted to properly manifest and instead, kept at bay by things that seem awfully petty and meaningless now–before he can stop himself.  He knows.  He knows the answer to his own question.  The painful, bitter, and ugly truth.  He knows and yet he can’t help asking, hoping to be wrong.  To receive an answer to halt what he’s reliving; the warmth and intensity of love, outlined by crushing and unrelenting sadness.  Maria herself reaches out–the chairs, table and everything on it having mysteriously vanished now seemingly in accordance with this change in the entity himself, as smoothly and seamlessly as if it had been like this all along–and bending down to the entity’s now diminutive height, her expression twisted a little with concern, and gently presses a thumb at the corners of his eyes to wipe a few more budding tears away.

“My dearest Giegue, I’m always with you.  And I always will be.”

She pulls him into a hug and overwhelmed by the flurry of emotions as he is, Giegue does not resist.  Rather he numbly allows for it to happen, more liquid leaking out his eyes to replace that which Maria had so kindly wiped away, his mouth pressed into a rather tense line that faintly quivers as if holding back so much more.  He can’t breathe, physiological impossibility of that aside.  He can’t move.  He can barely think, what little he can manage utterly dedicated towards “getting it together”, simply-put.  His memories are largely incomplete, but this feels awfully pathetic anyways.  As though he’s supposed to be better than this.  As though he has no right to break and bend at all and rather, has a duty towards remaining completely militant.  To otherwise fail to do so, as he is now, admittedly makes him feel hatred not just for them in general but for himself for being unable to do something so basic and so much more.

“You’ll always have a bit of the most important people inside your heart.  They’ll always be a part of you, even after they’re long gone.

Memories might hide in different parts of the mind’s maze, but they’re never really gone.

You never really forget the important things.  Do you understand?”

Of course he understands, comprehension cutting through the budding self-hatred for a moment.  He slowly, almost tentatively moves just a bit to loosely return her hug.  But, that’s exactly what makes this so difficult.  He knows.  He knows that, though the sincerity of her words rings through, this isn’t the real Maria.  It’s an aspect of his mind.  Love and maybe a bit of hope made manifest in the form that which exclusively inspires such an irrational state of being.  He closes his eyes shut rather tightly, pointed teeth grinding harshly from behind the tight line of his mouth.  He knows.  His fingers claw into the pink fabric of her dress as if he’s been starved of something for a very long time and can no longer continue to push back the desire to be satiated at long last.  He knows that he needs to complete this interaction in order to move onto the next fragment of many out there.  To become more complete.  And yet… his grip on the pink fabric abruptly tightens at the thought of having to move onto something else.  How despicable.  And yet… he briefly entertains the thought of never properly waking up.  Disgusting.  Of never becoming complete again.  Lowly scum.  Of the dream never ending.

Irrationally so.

Irrational.  Stupid.  And selfish.

Childishly so.

Stupid.  Stupid.  Stupid.

Let go.

But, he can’t.

Move on.

To what…?

Get over it.

How can he?  Everything has unraveled too far to neatly tie back up in its box.

Let go.

NO.  Never again.  That fleeting thought of never repairing himself is promptly crushed underneath his proverbial and unyielding heel.  How can he even think like that?  Be that pathetic and weak?  Somehow.  He knows that it isn’t like him.  And even if it is, then he knows that he needs to transcend such a basal nonetheless.  To be better.  Stronger this time around.  A slow and disapproving shake of his head to himself before the Psion pulls back from the hug, letting go of her dress and recomposed just a bit albeit still teary, and levitates up enough to meet Maria at eye level.  The first display of his psionic power since he regained his ability to think and process things at all, perhaps in response to the latest bit of growth towards becoming complete.

For several moments, he just stares at her.  Just stares and stares and stares while she patiently waits, completely nonplussed–a glimmer of understanding no less prominent in her gentle gaze–by this particular development.  He can’t find the words.  Despite his renewed, albeit still shaky, determination… words fail him anyways.  Despite knowing just how much of an illusion this actually is… mountains of mountains of mountains of words pile up all at once, much like the way all these feelings and thoughts of his had come rushing back in a jumbled mess.  There’s so many things that he wants to say.  Things he’s always wanted to say to her; archived for millenia until the consequent backlog became almost impossible to contain, now bursting out and flooding his mind in violent waves.  She’s not really here.  She’s gonegonegone.  

Destined to never cross paths with him again.  

Like lines that can never intersect.

GONE.

There’s NO POINT in saying anything meaningful.  And yet…

“I am sorry.  I could not be what you wanted me to be.  I have failed you.”

He cannot help himself anyways.  His head dips down, gaze averted towards the ground while his shoulders hunch ever-so-slightly, thoroughly miserable.  Shame.  Pure and unadulterated shame.  Out of the billions of things that he could say… that he shouldn’t bother with saying on principle… this comes out anyways.  A hollow apology tinged with regret.  Like that fixes anything, especially when he cannot entirely recall what he’s sorry about in the first place.  All he knows is that he’s deeply regretful about everything and that it is because he has in a way that is exceedingly wrong.  Utterly unworthy of all that she has invested in him in the short time they had known each other.  Is that really all he can say anymore after everything?  More liquid leaks out his eyes and falls, guided by the gravity of this dream towards the nonexistent ground now, blanked out by pale yellow hues in place of the wooden floor from earlier.  All the while, Maria shakes her head as if in disagreement with the Psion’s outward claims and the thoughts running through his mind earlier on, before gently pressing a hand to his shoulder.

“You haven’t failed me.  I think that… sometimes… we lose our way in life.  That doesn’t mean that we can’t find our way back.  Most people don’t stay lost forever.

The fact that you’re sorry at all is proof that you’re part of that majority.”

She steps forward and takes his small stubby hands into her own, cold contrasting against the very human warmth of her fair skin.  A beat.  And the Psion himself instinctively returns the grip–even though he shouldn’t–though he still doesn’t shift his gaze off the ground.

“Giegue.  You’re capable of more good than you know.

I still believe in you.  I always have and always will.  Because… just as I’ve said before, despite everything, you’re still you.

And I’ve always believed that you had a good heart.  I still do.

It’s never too late to turn away from the path you’ve been on thus far and do what’s right.  To be good against all perceived odds.  Even your own.”

Giegue wants to irrationally resist.  Hands twitching with intent to ball into fists, but only halting that particular action because said appendages in question are intertwined with hers.  Resist her words.  Resist the sense of ease starting to creep its way through him.  He wants to hold onto all that hatred, bitterness, and misery for as long as he can… to press it so close to his very core that he will never forget how rendingly awful it feels.  He deserves it.  Just as much as he wants to never let go of her, even if she’s just an illusion here.  And yet, he finds himself comforted by the words anyways, pain ebbed away by her warmth and kindness.  It’s absurd.

Because even if she’s an illusion… an apparition of his mind… he cannot bring himself to sincerely fight her on this.  He cannot deny her.  Not anymore.  So the only option he has is to simply let himself be comforted by it, somehow, and instead focus on seeing this interaction through to its end.  The surrounding details fading further away, window and wallpaper disappearing until the background is little more than a pastel rainbow of color splotches twinkling with a mysterious kind of radiance, like the starry night sky.

Good.  Being good.  Is it really that simple?

It hardly seems like it, especially for a creature such as himself.  The sincerity of her words come through as clearly as his rediscovered… love… for her and yet, he cannot help doubting himself anyways.  He’s comforted by her words, but doubt creeps in just as swiftly as comfort comes nonetheless.  He’s done nothing to warrant such faith in his apparent intrinsic ‘good’.  Absolutely nothing.  That much, he’s certain of, even in the absence of supporting memories and knowledge to that.  Because he was created by them.  The Psion species and they are certainly not good.  Because Maria is indisputably good and Giegue himself is nothing like her.  His shoulders hunch further, twitching but not accompanied by any further tears, his gaze somehow dipping down even further –fixed to the ground with even more intent than before.  Then he speaks, expression as blank as the tone of his words despite the uncertainty, misery, and lack of direction behind them.

“Perhaps.  Perhaps not.  I nonetheless no longer have a purpose.

What am I supposed to do anymore?

There are many gaps in what I can recall at this juncture, but somehow I simply know that there is nothing meaningful beyond this ‘dream’.”

He pulls his hands away from Maria, so as to wipe away the last few pinpricks of liquid off the corners of dark blue voids, shaking his head as he does so despite the resignation from before, emotional vulnerability of a new sort cracking through his renewed neutrality as he continues on, volume gradually quieting as he reaches the end of his message.

“I don’t know what to do anymore.

I’m… I am…. afraid that I am not strong enough to do anything else.

That I am only good for causing destruction and harm.

I am… afraid that… that I am not strong enough to be more than what they wanted.”

For a moment, there’s a brief flicker of sadness in her ever patient, gentle, and understanding gaze–a breakage in kindness and optimism paralleling the breakage in the Psion’s neutrality–before it snaps back to normal.  Then a pause as Maria carefully thinks over how to answer.  How to even begin addressing his feelings.  Complex things entangled in such a way, hatred completely and utterly integrated throughout, that it could not possibly be resolved in one fell swoop.  Nonetheless, the apparition has hope and unwavering belief in her son’s strength.  The memory of her would not exist at all if he really were as hate-worthy and weak as he believes.  And deep down he knows it.  She places her hands, one atop the other, over her heart while a small, hopeful, and knowing smile makes its way back onto her face anew.

“I only want for you to be happy with yourself and your life again.  It might seem impossible to you now, but I know that it will come to pass.

Giegue.  

You are so much stronger than you know.

The answer might not be immediately clear to you on what you’re meant to do now, but that’s okay.  You’ll figure it out and make it through.  You always do.”

Much like before, the Psion is hit with that impulsive and irrational desire to rebel against her words, but this time he quashes that impulse much more quickly.  Even if he cannot quite believe in himself the way she’d like for him to… he has to somehow try anyways.  If not for his sake, then certainly for hers.  He straightens his posture out and finally returns Maria’s gaze more properly, a fragile yet no less determined glint reflecting off dull pupils.  His doubts and fears cannot be mitigated so easily, but that does not matter because if he allows for himself to be completely consumed by such lowly sensations then he will only end up wasting the time, effort, and love–unworthy as he is of it at all–the real Maria had put into him long ago.  Apparition or not, the feelings of his which manifested it to begin with are real.  And in his… ‘heart’... he knows that this is how the real Maria would feel.

“Do you really believe that…?”

One last slippage, one last glint of vulnerability, and he’s done.  It’s a question he cannot help asking.   Especially now that the apparition before him has abruptly lost her details in line with the renewal of his resolve, demoted to little more than a vague pink outline while the multicolored splotches of their collective backdrop fragments to reveal the void from earlier on, sans a glimmering fragment.  The very development he had been dreading, but he holds strong against it with rigid neutrality.  He has to.  For her sake.

“Do you even need to ask?  Of course I do.”

She then looks down at herself, starting to fade now with the rest of the scattered backdrop pieces, and sighs a touch disappointed.  As if she had been hoping for a little more time despite knowing that this final outcome was near.

“Our time here is almost done.  You’ve achieved what you needed to.  Before I go… can I make one last request of you…?

I know that it might be a bit much with everything that you’ll have to face moving forward–”

The apparition is abruptly cut off before she can finish her sentence when the Psion sticks out a stubby arm, palm facing outward and towards her as a silent indication to cease speaking immediately.  No explanation is needed.  He will always help her without question.  She needn’t even ask.  Such is the ‘power of love’ in all those… stories of heroes and monsters that his adoptive human mother used to tell him, is it not?  In the end, love always prevails and though mere fiction, it certainly applies here.

“Yes.  Anything.  You can have no request that is too unreasonable for me to fulfill.

Though I may be uncertain on where I… ‘fit’... now… there is something that I can nonetheless say with certainty on how I will exist from now on.

And it is that… no matter what happens, has happened, or will happen… I will always stand by your figurative side through it all.

No matter what, I will never abandon your memory.”

The Psion receives no immediate response, the apparition taken aback for a moment, as if she hadn’t been expecting this particular response.  Or at least, not so quickly.  Strange for a mere apparition born of his mind.  As an aspect of him, she should have anticipated this particular result anyways, but then… he was rather heavily damaged.  His entire mind had fractured and so, certain… incongruencies can be expected.  Nonetheless, the apparition quickly recovers, a bit of pride making its way into her fading features as she smiles for the last time, embracing the Psion as she does so which he more immediately returns this time around. A tentative and awkward, as if completely unused to contact like this, but not less sincere in its gentle nature.

“I should have known.  I won’t hesitate then.

Protect the Earth and all life on it, won’t you?”

Gone.  Gone.  Gone.  Her voice fades away as she speaks along with the rest of her form, little more than a ghostly whisper lost to the void.  She’s gone.  One hand curls into a small and tense fist, both dropping by their respective sides, while his eyes screw shut.

Some part of him admittedly felt compelled to reach out, as if that would somehow stop what had happened. Another part felt inclined to call out to not leave, even though he already knew such an inevitability was near. The visuals made that much abundantly clear. He should have done this. He should have done that and yet, it happened too fast for him to do anything but reel in the cold and isolated aftermath of it all. An aftermath from which he cannot falter; he had already done far enough of that and at this juncture, he must remain strong even as renewed bits of wetness threaten to deftly slide out the corners of his eyes.

The real Maria is long gone. She has been for a very long time. That was just an apparition. Nothing more and nothing less.

Gone, but certainly not forgotten.

The pale alien takes a moment to just… accept what’s happened… the part he supposed would be hardest, even though he had braced for it.  One.  Two.  Three.  An inhalation of air.  Four.  Five.  Six.  An exhalation of air.  Then he opens his eyes anew and glances out at the remaining fragments in the darkness as the remaining bits of the previous fragment’s backdrop morph into pure glittering golden light–the very same which had once shone through the window in the dream–before concentrating into a beam that fades into his body, right where a heart would be if he physiologically had one.

“I will.  I promise.”

The semantics of that do not matter. Whether it's more complicated or simpler than he can currently envision, limited as his current database is, he will certainly see her request through to the very end.

It's the least he can do. The only thing he can do for her anymore as her son.

[kentosblkgf]

Miguel O'hara W/ camgirl!gf

Cw: mentioned masturbation, heavy overstimulation, clit slapping, size kink, and consensual recording. Pls let me know if i missed anything<333.

Miguel never saw a problem with what you did for work. Being the boyfriend of a camgirl had its perks, he thought it was great that you could work from home while he was away all the time, while always finding ways to pleasure yourself. He was all about you. You were the only thing he thought about when he went to work and while he was at work, doing tough missions. Guess what he thought about? You.

Being away from you wasn’t something he enjoyed at all. Miguel had become clingy when you two first started dating. Always wanting to be around you, provided him a different level of comfort he never thought he would know. You are just so perfect for him that he couldn’t even put the words flowing through his head in a proper sentence. He was truly lovesick. Miguel would do anything for you because he adored you. Even giving you gifts for your little cam shows.

His personal favorite was the dildo that he got molded of his cock. The shape, color, and size all matched him. He loved watching you use it on yourself, it was like a little reward for when he was away from home.

He is so in love with you it is ridiculous, so when you asked him to help you film a video… why would he say no to his precious girlfriend? “Miguel please”

Whimpering was all he could hear, you trying to push back onto his fingers.

“Hush baby, be patient.”

“How can I when you’re being so mean to me?” You pout so beautifully. Miguel made you so wet, just the slightest touch to your clit and you were already dripping gallons.

You had your ass in the air right in his smug face. His fingers slapping at your clit causing you to lose your arch.

“M’not mean baby, don’t act out just because the camera is on. Be good for me.”

You were about to cum, his words just being enough. So rugged and breathy, his deep voice not helping at all.

Miguel is finally giving you what you want, rubbing tight circles on your cunt, but you were greedy and needed more than what he was giving you.

“Miguel please, more.”

You whined.

“Todo lo que haces es rogar." (All you do is beg.)

Miguel has had enough of you being a whiny annoying brat. So he’ll give you what you want like he always does, maybe that’s why you’re so spoiled now. Practically throwing a fit while he was fingers deep inside of you.

“¿Has terminado? ¿Quieres más? Te daré más.”( Are you done? You want more? I’ll give you more.)

Without pressing on further, Miguel rises to his knees pushing down on your back and pulling at your hair so that your head is risen higher.

“Look at yourself.”

Jerking your head closer to the camera that reflected the smutty scene. You both looked so good together, him pressing against you with his wide shoulders and those bleeding red eyes.

Truth be told. You couldn’t handle him at all, he was too much for you. Too big, Too thick, just too… Miguel.

But Jesus fuck did he need to hurry it up.

It’s as if Miguel could hear your thoughts because he wasted no time, taking his cock in his hand and rubbing it against your cunt. You could feel how warm he was against you practically already feeling him inside you. You were never able to fully take Miguel's size without a huge amount of prepping, but you were rushing him to fuck you.

He's sliding his other hand that was not busy rubbing his cock against your cunt against your sensitive clit. Rubbing soft circles watching your reaction in the camera lens.

"You gonna take it?"

It sounded like he was mocking you, he most definitely was.

"Promise."

That promise was all he needed to hear before he slowly pushed his aching tip inside of you. It was an angry red color, leaking heaps of precum as soon as he had pushed inside.

You already felt so full, but you didn't want to let Miguel down. You promised you could take him, take all of him.

"Deeper."

Since when was his girl so demanding, you promised him you could take it, and who is he to doubt you? If you say you can then he'll give you everything he has to give. He pushes his hip forward pressing your ass to his hips. He's so deep inside of you, that you can feel him in your throat.

"Mig- oh fuck wait."

"Don't be a liar baby."

letting out small thrusts between each word. Hushing you with his words. The time felt like it slowed as you felt his thick cock dragging against your walls. Miguel was unnecessarily big, he had always been tough for you to take. It was even harder now that you had minimal prep you could feel his tip hitting deep inside of you.

Your heavy moans were echoing throughout the room combined with his breathy grunts. You were just so wet, the 'shlick' of your cunt dragging against him was the loudest thing in the room.

Miguel's hands were on your waist pushing you back against him, trying to make you take him deeper if that was even possible. His thrusts were starting to become harsher and harsher with every push and pull of your hips.

He loved to look at you like this, slutted out and stuffed with cock that was too big for you to even handle. You took him like a champ so why would he complain? That's just not what he wanted. He wanted you crying and trying to run from the onslaught of his thrusts. He wanted you shaking and crying beneath him, begging him to ease up maybe even try the slow him down yourself by placing your hands on his stomach trying to push him away.

He would get what he wanted regardless. Let me show you.

Miguel's grip on you tightens as he pulls out of you. You're already whining as you feel empty without him inside of you.

"Hush baby." His voice was so thick with want.

He's tossing you onto your back placing his hands on your thick thighs and pushing his thumbs into the little crevice behind your knee. Pushing your legs so far back your knees reach eye level on the sides of your head before you can even blink.

"Hold your legs." Fuck.

He had put you in a mating press. One of the most dangerous positions between you two. You already knew what was coming.

"Mig- hold on. let me breathe.." you whisper to him, this position always had you in tears.

"No baby, how about you hold up your end of the deal," he says as he slowly starts pushing into you again.

"Better keep that promise."

Miguel is already bottoming out inside of you before you can even respond with an attitude. His thrusts are heavy and mean just like him. Slamming and torturing the back of your thighs.

You can feel him deep inside of you, deeper than he was before. You were so tight and warm. He could feel you tightening around him. gripping onto him so tightly he can feel every pulse of your wet cunt.

"C'mon, baby."

he whispers into your ear as his hand rake along the sides of your thighs and tease your tits before resting on your throat, tightening his palm around it. Just enough to put you in a slight daze.

Your head tossed back letting out breathy moans as he kissed your neck. God, you looked so perfect like this. Taking his cock so well.

He's pushing into you roughly, your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

"So good.."

It sounds like you are whining.

"You're fucking me so good."

Your cunt is clenching around him so fucking tightly as if you didn't want him to pull out of you at all. Your hearing is going blank just like your vision. Seeing white dots cloud your vision as your stomach starts tightening.

He's fucking you into the bed harshly over and over again, his mind just focusing on you.

"Open your eyes."

You're trying your hardest to obey him but the way he is hitting inside of you just right is knocking the breathe out of your lungs.

You need a moment of respite to just be able to breathe.

"Mig- uh.. wait." Why should he wait when you could give him what he wanted?

"Open." His voice was loud and demanding.

His thrusts are getting deeper… Harsher with each word. Like he's trying to get you not to do what he is asking of you.

You force your eyes open, tears dripping down your face, fuck do you look so pretty to him. Your pretty pussy speaking so loudly to him. You're going to cum soon. He can feel it with the way you're gripping his arms, leaving the engravings of your fingernails on his tan skin.

His hand moves up to raise your head closer to his face, bringing you into a kiss, licking at your lower lip, tugging and pulling at it with his teeth. He's moaning heavily into your mouth.

The kiss drew you in just enough or you to cum. You're wriggling against him trying to tug your face away from his. Miguel's hand grips onto your face tighter whimpering into your mouth.

"Cum baby."

He's pleading for you to cum.

So you do. Letting go of the tight grip you had on him. Your legs straightened out, pushing against his chest. You're shaking as you gush around him, your body squeezing shut altogether. Can't do anything but let out open-mouthed silent moans as you can't find it in yourself to open your vocal cords and let out any audible noise. Fuck do you look good trying to get away from him only after one orgasm.

Maybe now is not the best time to be asking you questions as you seem to not be in the same universe as him. Miguel smacks your face lighting trying to bring you back down from an incredible high.

"Come back to me, c'mon."

He's waiting patiently still deep inside of you, keeping himself from moving.

"M'gonna move okay?"

You shakily nod your head agreeing with anything he is saying right now.

He pulls out of you slowly, trying not to disturb your moment of clarity.

"Where's your toy baby?" He's getting up and opening the drawers looking for his favorite toy of yours.

You don't answer him as you roll over and check the camera. No blinking red light.

This cannot be fucking happening… You didn't even click record.

[sanspuppet]

PAIRING: ot8 idol!Ateez x manager afab!reader

W/T: unprotected sex, public sex, orgy, double penetration, anal sex, creampies, handjob, blowjob

actually writing an orgy was way more tough than i expected 🧍🏻‍♀️i hope this turned out well anyways

2K words of pure filth

@bro-atz here is it :) i hope you’ll still be doing fine after this lmao

Honestly, the view looks mesmerizing. You’ve never seen so many dicks at once, jerking all off to you as all ateez members can’t help but get feral at the sight of your naked body. “Isn’t she so pretty? Our favorite girl seems enjoying herself now.” Mingi kneels in front of you, raising up your chin while the other hands keeps stroking his fat cock. “Lookin so ready to take all of us… fuck” Yeosang adds, whimpering when a sharp shiver goes down his pelvis. Some of the members are sitting on the small couch right next the door of the practice room, looking at you along with quick glances at the dicks near to them. “What the fuck are we waiting? If someone ain’t gonna fuck her now, i’ll go first” Wooyoung points at you with his usual silly behavior, little thing out of note is that he’s palming his balls at the same time, his Adam’s apple moves as he swallows hard from pleasure. Mingi chuckles, even if they act like it’s an ordinary situation, you’re mind still has to elaborate how the fuck did y’all happen to be naked inside the dance practice room. “I’m gonna take her first, Yunho? Come here bro” Mingi turns around to search for the man, who was already getting closer to you two as soon as Mingi knelt before. The man in front of you looks at you again, moving you to sit on his lap as he lays on the floor, the coldness makes him shiver under your body. He groans deeply when your wet sticky folds rub against his erected cock, that’s pressing against his lower abdomen. Yunho comes from behind, kneeling between Mingi’s legs, his big hands cup completely your butt cheeks, spreading them to get a better look of your soaked cunt. “Fuck, such a pretty pussy you have, doll” Yunho slides a finger along with your wet cut, sweet whimpers roll out of your tongue. Most of the other members groan, everyone has taken his place where they can watch you three having your moment. When you tilt your head to make your hair fall back on one side, you notice Hongjoong trying to make eye contact with you, as Seonghwa who’s sitting next to him pumps his dick at a fast pace, the squelching sound coming especially from them can be heard easily in the room. You sigh with a slight smirk: “So eager to cum, aren’t you Hongjoong?” You move your gaze to the man that’s pleasuring him, Seonghwa bites his lip as he busies both of his hands. Hongjoong can only relieve a quiet giggle to prevent a loud moan. Your attention is dragged away when you feel Yunho rubbing his tip along your folds, before moving an inch up to reach your asshole. He struggles a little to slide inside of it at first, but as soon as his cockhead penetrated you, he can’t stop pushing himself further inside. You hold onto Mingi’s chest, scratching his abs with your long nails, he looks at you from beneath, giving you cocky smirks. “You’re not stuffed full enough baby, let me help it.” His big hand grabs his dick, pressing the tip of it at your throbbing entrance, even though it dives in without many problems, sharing your stomach with Yunho’s crotch isn’t as easy too. “Fuck, it’s squeezing me so much” Yunho grips your ass harshly as the pace speeds up, impatient to feel more friction. Meanwhile, in the background, San and Jongho are being the loudest, clearly enjoying themselves, stroking their length faster as the pleasure gets more intense. Less to say it, being pumped by two big cocks like the ones that are inside of you, is something insane yet so fucking amazing to feel. Mingi holds onto his heels, while thrusting into your pussy with eagerness, deep groans escape from both of them, while they worship you. Not so long after, Mingi cums into you first, the grip on your waist gets tighter as he shoots his seeds deeper. And right after that, at the feeling of his warmth filling you completely, you orgasm too, squeezing helplessly your holes more intense than ever. “Fuck! Suckin’ in my dick so well- ‘m so close” Yunho, seconds after paints your insides white. By now you’re sure that you’re looking fucked out, well quite obvious after those two men literally gave you the best fuck ever.

You can’t even recover properly that Jongho stands up, heading towards you: “My turn now, gonna fuck your little mouth.” Mingi and Yunho sit on the floor next to the couch, after taking a few sips of water from their bottles. You kneel in front of Jongho, as soon as he’s in front of you, you wrap your hands around his strong thighs, your mouth’s already brushing against his cockhead. “Mmh yes, open up, pretty girl” In less than a few seconds you’re swallowing his dick, forcing yourself to inhale the air from your nose as you feel on the verge of choking with every time his tip touches the back of your throat. “Oh my fucking god- what a good slut you are” Jongho whimpers pleasantly one your tongue reaches for his balls. You didn’t notice someone has taken place behind your back until it raises your ass up, making you go on all fours as you keep sucking on Jongho’s dick. “Wanna have my way into you too, baby.” Yeosang’s voice is so deep that you swear you throbbed right in the spot as soon as he spoke. You try to nod but the only thing that comes from your mouth is a gag, making all the men chuckle. “Yeah, she wants you inside as well” Wooyoung smirks down at you, before landing his eyes on Yeosang’s cock already sliding into you. Jongho doesn’t takes much to cum, he got extremely close to his climax every time you choked on him, until he couldn’t take no more. He suddenly pulls out, stroking himself quickly while looking down at you. “Tongue out, gotta let you taste it.” As soon as you open your mouth, loud moans roll out, unable to hold them back because of Yeosang’s dick hitting perfectly all the right spots. Ropes of thick cum land all over your face when Jongho cums, his high pitched moans surely sound the best. He pats your forehead and smirks down at you, before moving to the members to have their turn. There you see Hongjoong standing up, his cock twitches and swirls as he smears his precum all over it while walking over you. “Ahw, you look so pretty with your face painted with cum.” You barely look at him, you squeeze your eyes shut, once you feel your second orgasm approaching too. You let out pathetic slutty moans and heavy breaths, as Yeosang speeds up his pace to get the both of you to your climax in a few seconds. “Fuck! I’m cumming! Yeah keep clenching like that, so good!” When Yeosang becomes loud, everyone other start jerking off faster, admiring the view eagerly to see you reach your high again. Yeosang pulls out, spreading your ass cheeks to see better his cum leaking out of your aroused cunt. “Fuck… so hot”

As soon as Yeosang stands up and walks away from you, Seonghwa takes his place. “Don’t worry baby, i’ll give a… little rest. All i wanna do is just eat you out” He leans over you to just give a kitten lick on your stuffed pussy. You raise your head, giving a quick look at Hongjoong’s dick, before turning your head to Wooyoung, who immediately walked over you. “Well if you’re gonna busy yourself with her clit. I’m gonna take her ass, i can’t fucking wait no more.” You feel exhausted yet you couldn’t even think of stopping. You look at him with a sly but tired smile. Seonghwa lays beneath you, his head’s facing your crotch while you can stare at his erected cock by just moving your head down. The two other men penetrate you at the same time, yet Wooyoung starts immediately with a sharp, quick pace, that forces you to swallow hard the dick in front of you. “Oh fuck! So tight, just as i thought it would be.” Wooyoung seems desperate to cum, probably he was already close and just wanted to release his load into you. Hongjoong thrusts in your mouth slightly, holding your chin to remember you to look up at him. “So perfect, I think we ain’t gonna last long, am i right?” He asks, glancing at the man behind you. You don’t catch Wooyoung’s reply, your mind at this point has gone blank, Seonghwa is so capable of using his tongue the right way, thing that you already figured out by watching him on stage. Every single moan he lets out, feels like the better vibrator ever, that slowly makes the knot in your stomach intensify again. In one quick move, Wooyoung does a final, rougher than ever thrust, making Hongjoong hit the deepest spot in your throat, as if it wasn’t enough, Seonghwa automatically sucks hard on your clit, swirling his tongue around it. All this ends with you being stuffed full again of the two men’s sperm, your own cum’s leaking out mixed with the others’ previous cum. Only one member’s left. You looked for San, who’s sitting on the couch waiting for you with patient. He chuckles at the sight of your red, puffy cheeks and your fucked out expression. San takes a bottle of water in his hands, before heading towards you as the other members rest on the couch again. “Here baby, take a sip and regain yourself. I’ll wait for you.” He offers you the bottle, then sits behind you, jerking off while having a close look of your swallowed pussy. You rest your chest on the floor, breathing deeply as you try to recover. Even the other members slowly start to dress up again. After a couple minutes, you stand up again, holding onto your wrists. “Are you ready?” San looks up at you, pressing slightly his tip against your entrance, impatience suddenly flowing into his body, wanting to slide in. “Y-yeah” you lowly nod, looking back at him with a smile. San doesn’t wait twice to pump into you, the wetness of your walls making it easy to thrust. “Mmmphh… feels too good kitten” he grips your ass, smirking at the red marks that the other members left before. He then gropes it softly, in contrast with his rough pace. “Yeah, just keep it for a few other minutes, you did so well for us.” Yeosang chuckles in a corner, everyone has still their eyes kept on you. “What a gentleman, San.” The only thing he gets as a reply is a pleased sigh from the man behind you. His thrust are become sloppier with every each one. You bite your lower lip, eager to make the both of you come, you clench intensely around him. San goes crazy at the feeling of your walls pulsing around him as you squeeze his dick. “Im gonna cum soon baby, get ready” a hand moves down your abdomen, searching for you clit. Once he founds it, he starts to draw quick circles with his thumb, his pumps are matching the pace. You lay on your elbows, feeling your fourth orgasm approaching too. San leans over your back, leaving messy kisses on the back of your neck. He groans loudly, sliding in and out slowly to focus better on the warmth and wetness of your tight pussy, which not long after makes him cum.

Another load is being shot inside you, this time filling you completely as he had to pull out the exact same second he started to release. You collapse onto the floor, without even realizing you’ve soon fallen asleep.

[cloudyzeusy]

Not quite what they seem ||

pairing: aomine x top male reader

warnings: sex in school,role reversal

Popular! Aomine who everyone expects to be this tough and super masculine guy. Yet they don't know he bottoms for the quiet nerdy guy that people barely pay attention to. They don't that (name) has a big ass cock and knows how to use it nor that he is fucking handsome and funny as hell.

But Aoimine does and thats why he dating him after all...

When his friends spot him pulling (name) into the bathroom they all assume he's being bullied. When thats far from the truth.

"Hurry up (name)." Daiki groaned helping him pull his trousers down faster.

"I''ve never seen you this desperate for my cock before." I grinned making Daiki glare at him.

"Shut u-." He began to say it would have been more threatening if he currently wasn't being fingered.

I inserted another finger scissoring him open curling your fingers hitting his prostrate making him moan out loud.

"please~ please more." He whispered cock leaking and i obliged i couldnt act like i couldnt wait to get inside his perfect ass.

He leaned on the stall as he waited in bated breath as i eased into him filling him up completely and shit did he feel so good around me. I couldn't hold myself back before grabbing his waist fucking into him.

"Augh fe-feels so good." He moans as he gets fucked harshly.

"You're meant for this aren't you. Meant to be a little cocksleve for me." I grunted spanking him eliciting a squeal out of him.

"yes~ mhm m' gonna cum p-please"

"Already? Whats the point of that cock if I dont even have to touch it to make you cum, huh?" I smirked watching as he flushed in humiliation squeezing around me. "come for me baby." I whispered in his ear slowly stroking his cock.

His body tenses up as he complies to my orders cumming hard he lay there limp in my arms not expecting me to continue thrusting.

"Sto-stop (name) i just came." He whined i paid him no mind as i chased my orgasm. He withered only moans coming out of his mouth as I used his body as a ragdoll.

My thrusts became more sloppy as I orgasmed filling him up pulling one more orgasm out of Daiki. I panted as I wiped my self down coming down from my high fixing my glasses.

I looked down at my boyfriend who looked a treat drool on his face, his pupils blown and hair a mess. I would go for another round if we wasn't at school.

I cleaned him up as best I could I'm a school bathroom and he let me with no argument. He was always more quiet after sex which was a good change from his usual boisterous attitude.

We may have to have sex at school more often...

They left the bathroom not knowing that Daiki's friends heard everything and would never look at him the same.

And if Daiki walked with a limp the rest of the day they definitely didn't say anything...

[lila-lou]

✨ His only exception - Pt. 33/33 ✨

Summary: 12 months ago, Butcher went above and beyond to have you join his team. You had a simple office job at Supe Affairs. The same thing every day, working from 9 to 5 and watching Butcher and his team defeat one renegade after another. One evening, however, something changed.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader

Warnings: 18+ only! NO Smut but BIG TRIGGER WARNING, Language, Ben being hurt, Reader being hurt, soft Ben, sad Ben - it´s a fucking mess

Word Count: 4627

A/N: This is part 33 of “His only exeption”.

English isn’t my first language, so please be lenient. 💙✨

The baby's room was a testament to Ben's dedication and love. Together, you had spent countless hours painting, decorating, and arranging every detail with care. As you walked around the room, your heart swelled with a mixture of pride and anticipation.

The soft gray walls provided a calming backdrop, while colorful accents added warmth and personality to the space. A cozy crib stood in one corner, adorned with plush toys and fluffy blankets, ready to welcome your little one into the world.

On the opposite wall, a small dresser and changing table offered practicality and convenience.

As you ran your hand over the smooth surface of the crib, a wave of emotion washed over you. Soon, this room would be filled with the laughter and cries of your precious baby, a thought that filled you with joy and excitement.

Despite the early stage of your pregnancy, seeing the room take shape helped solidify the reality of the new life growing inside you.

For both of you, it was a way to channel your excitement and anticipation, turning the abstract concept of parenthood into something concrete and tangible. Each brushstroke of paint, each carefully chosen decoration, was a step closer to embracing the future as parents.

Sitting in the rocking chair, you gazed out of the window, the soft glow of sunlight filtering through the curtains casting a warm, comforting light in the room.

The rhythmic motion of the rocking chair was soothing, lulling you into a state of peaceful reflection. As you traced gentle circles on your belly, you couldn't help but marvel at the miracle of new life, feeling a profound sense of connection to the tiny being nestled within you.

"You know", you murmured softly, your voice barely above a whisper, "your daddy's been working so hard to get everything ready for you. He's been painting and building furniture, all to make this room perfect for when you arrive".

Your hand gently caressed the curve of your belly as you spoke, a tender smile gracing your lips. "And me? Well, I've been trying my best to take care of you, making sure you're safe and healthy in there".

As you spoke, you felt a faint flutter against your palm.

"And let me tell you about your dad", you continued with a playful smirk, "he's a big tough guy, but deep down, he's a total softie when it comes to you. I've caught him talking to my belly more times than I can count, telling you stories and making all sorts of promises".

You chuckled softly at Ben's earnest attempts to bond with the baby. "He's going to be the best dad, even if he does have a habit of burning eggs in the kitchen".

As you spoke, you couldn't help but feel a surge of affection for Ben. You knew that beneath his tough guy act, he had a heart of gold, especially when it came to you and your baby.

"And you know what else?", you continued with a mischievous grin, "he's absolutely terrified of changing diapers. I swear, every time I mention it, he gets this deer-in-the-headlights look. But don't worry, little one, we'll figure it out together".

"I can't wait to meet you", you whispered, your words filled with love and longing. "We're going to be a family, and I promise to love you more than anything in this world".

You rose from the rocking chair with a gentle sigh, feeling a bit restless and in need of some fresh air. Slipping out of the baby's room, you made your way downstairs and towards the front door. The sun was shining brightly outside, promising a pleasant walk through the neighborhood.

Missing Ben, you decided to head to Vought Tower. The familiar route felt comforting, and soon enough, you found yourself stepping into the sleek, imposing building. You made your way up to his office, greeting a few familiar faces along the way.

Once there, you discovered Ben was in a meeting, so you settled down on the couch in his office. The faint scent of his cologne lingering in the air. You smiled, feeling a sense of closeness despite his physical absence.

As you waited, you absentmindedly stroked your bump, your thoughts drifting to the life you were building together.

Suddenly the door to Ben's office burst open with a loud thud. Ben stormed in, followed closely by Butcher, their heated argument filling the room.

"I can't believe you’re still against fucking killing him, Butcher!", Ben snarled, his face contorted with frustration. "Keeping Homelander captive is a ticking time bomb. He fucking needs to be put down once and for all".

Butcher rolled his eyes, his own anger simmering just beneath the surface. "I've told you before, Soldier Boy, we need him alive for now. There’s too much we don’t know. We can use him as leverage".

Ben's eyes flashed with fury as he paced the room, his hands clenched into fists. "Leverage? You think that psychopath is going to be anyone's fucking leverage? He´s a fucking piece of shit!".

Butcher stepped closer. "And you think going in guns blazing is the answer? This needs to be strategic, not a bloodbath".

Ben’s anger was palpable, and for a moment, you feared he might lash out physically. But then his eyes landed on you, and his expression softened slightly. "What the fuck are you doing here?", he asked, his voice still edged with irritation, but with a hint of concern creeping in.

Butcher couldn’t resist adding his own commentary, a smirk playing on his lips. “Looks like someone brought their distraction to work today”, he said, his tone laced with amusement.

You felt a flush rise to your cheeks as Butcher’s teasing remark earned a sharp glare from Ben.

Before things could escalate further, you decided to intervene, hoping to diffuse the situation. “I just missed you”, you said, trying to keep your tone light. “And I was kinda bored”.

Ben’s gaze softened as it shifted to your belly, a flicker of concern crossing his features. "You shouldn’t be wandering around on your own", he said, his voice tinged with worry. "Especially not with everything going on".

Butcher seemed to sense the change in atmosphere, offering a gruff nod before making his exit. "Fine, fine", he muttered, rolling his eyes as he left the office, leaving you and Ben alone once again.

With Butcher gone, Ben turned his full attention back to you, his expression softening as he approached. "C´mere", he said, his voice gentle as he guided you towards the couch.

Ben's grumpiness seemed to melt away as he gently pushed you down onto the couch, his body weight pressing against yours. With tender care, he lifted your sweatshirt, exposing your bare little baby bump, and began placing soft kisses along its surface.

Your cheeks flushed with warmth as Ben continued to pepper your belly with kisses. With each tender touch of his lips, you felt a surge of affection and adoration for the man beside you.

In a soft, murmured voice, barely above a whisper, Ben expressed his love. "I love you so fucking much", he mumbled against your skin, his words filled with emotion and sincerity.

Ben's hands gently cradled your growing bump, his touch both protective and loving. As he looked up at you, his eyes were filled with a mixture of tenderness and awe.

You couldn't help but smile at the sight of him, his expression reflecting the depth of his love to you and your unborn child. With a soft sigh, you reached out to caress his hair, your heart swelling with affection for the man who meant everything to you.

Passion ignited between you as Ben pressed his lips to yours, his kiss filled with longing and desire. With your legs spread beneath him, you welcomed him closer, the warmth of his body enveloping you as your lips moved together in a fervent dance of love and need. In that moment, nothing else mattered except the two of you.

But Annie's abrupt entrance shattered the moment, her voice cutting through the air with urgency. "Ben, we need your help!", she yelled, her words punctuated by the sounds of chaos and commotion from outside the office. The urgency in her tone sent a jolt of adrenaline coursing through both you and Ben, snapping you out of the intimate bubble you had been enveloped in just moments before.

Ben's demeanor shifted instantly, his focus shifting from you to the chaos unfolding outside the office. With a commanding tone, he ordered, "Stay here", his voice tinged with urgency as the noise escalated and the sound of shattering glass filled the air. You nodded in response, watching as Ben hurried out of the room, his expression grim with determination.

Annie's voice cut through the chaos, her tone urgent as she relayed the situation to Ben. "It's Homelander", she shouted over the noise, her eyes wide with alarm. "And he seems to be on V!".

Ben's jaw tightened with determination as he took in the gravity of the situation. "Stay close", he instructed Annie, his voice firm as he prepared to confront the threat head-on. "We need to take him down before he causes any more damage".

Ben cursed under his breath as he surveyed the scene before him, his eyes narrowing with rage at the sight of the shattered lobby, the injured and screaming people, and the few who lay motionless on the ground, their lives already lost.

Butcher peered out from behind a metal door, his expression a mix of exhaustion and amusement as he glanced at Soldier Boy. "Well, looks like it's another day in paradise, eh?", he quipped, his voice laced with sarcasm. "Who knew babysitting superheroes would be so much fun?".

As Ben dodged another piece of debris hurtling towards him, he muttered under his breath, his voice tense with frustration. "How the fuck did Homelander manage to escape?".

The chaos around them made it difficult to think clearly, but Ben knew they needed to act fast to contain the situation before it spiraled further out of control. With Homelander on V, the stakes were higher than ever, and every second counted in their efforts to bring him down.

As Homelander made his way towards the elevators, Ben cursed under his breath, his jaw clenched with determination. "We can't let him get away", he muttered, his eyes scanning the chaotic scene for any sign of the rogue supe.

With a sense of urgency driving him forward, Ben pushed through the panicked crowd, his focus squarely on intercepting Homelander before he could wreak any more havoc. Time was of the essence, and failure was not an option.

Butcher's grumble mixed with frustration and exhaustion as he observed the elevator doors closing. "Bloody hell, he's probably hunting for you", he muttered towards Ben, his tone dripping with irritation.

Ben's frustration erupted into a string of curses as he realized the danger you might be in. "Fuck", he shouted, his voice cutting through the chaos of the lobby. "We need to get upstairs, now!".

Annie's frustration boiled over as they raced up the stairs, her voice sharp with anger. "Where the fuck is A-Train when we need him?", she cursed, her words punctuated by the sound of their hurried footsteps echoing in the stairwell.

As they sprinted up the stairs with all their might, the sense of urgency weighing heavily upon them, the reality of their limitations became painfully clear. Despite their superhuman abilities, they were still too slow to catch up with Homelander.

Your heart raced as the door slammed open, but your anticipation turned to fear as Homelander strode into the room. Before you could react, his strong grip closed around your throat, pressing you against the wall with alarming force.

Your breath caught in your throat as Homelander's grip tightened, cutting off your air supply. Struggling to speak, you choked out a raspy plea for mercy, but his furious glare told you that he wasn't in the mood for leniency.

"Where is he?", he growled, his voice reverberating with anger. "Tell me, or I'll crush you like a bug!".

"I-I don't know", you managed to gasp out, your voice strained and hoarse. But Homelander's eyes narrowed with suspicion, and he shook you roughly, demanding answers. All you could do was gasp for air, your vision starting to blur as darkness crept in at the edges.

Within seconds, Ben rushing towards Homelander. The rest of the team followed closely behind him, their expressions a mix of concern and readiness for battle.

"Get your fucking hands off!", Ben roared, his voice laced with fury as he confronted Homelander head-on. But Homelander only tightened his grip on you, a menacing sneer twisting his features.

"I'll snap her little neck if you come any fucking closer!", Homelander threatened, his voice dripping with malice as he glared at Ben.

But Ben didn't falter, his gaze locked on yours with unwavering determination. "You touch her, and I swear I'll fucking tear you apart", he growled, his fists trembling with restrained rage.

Homelander's lips curled into a twisted smirk as he observed the scene before him, his grip on you tightening even further. "Looks like you've got yourself in quite the predicament, Soldier Boy", he taunted, his voice laced with amusement as he watched Ben's furious reaction.

You struggled to gasp for air, your vision blurring as the lack of oxygen threatened to overwhelm you. Homelander's mocking words only added to your fear, and you prayed that Ben would find a way to save you before it was too late.

Ben's voice cut through the tension like a knife, his words dripping with barely contained rage as he stepped forward. "Let her go", he growled, his eyes flashing with a deadly intensity. "Or I fucking swear, I'll make you regret it for the rest of your miserable life."

Homelander's smirk widened into a sinister grin as he reveled in the power he held over both you and Ben. "Oh, I don't think so, Soldier Boy", he retorted, his voice oozing with malice. "I have plans for our little reunion, and you're not going to ruin them".

You could feel your strength fading, the world around you growing dim as you struggled to remain conscious.

Homelander's cruel laughter echoed through the room as he taunted Ben, his words laced with disdain. "You know what, since you asked so nicely", he sneered. Without warning, he slammed you against the nearest wall with terrifying force, the impact sending shockwaves of pain coursing through your body.

As darkness closed in around you, you felt a wave of dizziness overwhelm you, your consciousness slipping away as the world faded into blackness.

With a primal scream of "No!", Ben's heart skipped a beat, his worst fears unfolding before his eyes. Without a moment's hesitation, fueled by a surge of pure rage and desperation, he charged towards Homelander, his chest beginning to glow with an otherworldly intensity.

Meanwhile, Butcher sprang into action with lightning speed, his focus solely on rescuing you. He swiftly reached your unconscious and bloodied form, scooping you up in his arms before darting away from the chaotic scene.

As seconds dwindled down to the inevitable explosion, Ben made a split-second decision. With a primal roar, he launched himself at Homelander, their bodies colliding with bone-crushing force as they crashed through the nearest window, hurtling out of the building and into the open air.

Ben detonated in a blinding flash of light, the force of the explosion rippled through the air, shattering windows and sending shockwaves reverberating through the city streets. In that moment of fiery destruction, every trace of V within Homelander's body was obliterated, leaving him powerless and vulnerable once more.

As Homelander attempted to scramble to his feet, Ben swiftly tackled him to the ground, pinning him beneath his formidable strength. With a primal rage burning within him, Ben unleashed a relentless barrage of blows, each strike of his shield raining down with bone-crushing force upon Homelander's defenseless form.

The sound of metal meeting flesh echoed through the air as Ben's fury consumed him, each strike driven by a primal instinct to protect you and exact vengeance upon the one who dared to harm you. With each blow, Homelander's resistance faltered, his once invincible facade crumbling beneath the relentless onslaught. With a sickening crunch, Homelander's body fell limp, lifeless beneath Ben's victorious wrath.

Meanwhile butcher brought you to the hospital of vought, Annie following him quickly. Annie's urgency was evident as she reached out, grabbing Butcher's wrist in a desperate attempt to gain his attention. "Butcher, she's…", she began, her voice fraught with concern.

But Butcher cut her off with a terse nod, his expression grim as he met her gaze. "Pregnant, I know", he replied, his tone clipped and resolute.

Without wasting another moment, Annie led Butcher towards your doctor, her sense of urgency palpable as she handed you over swiftly, ensuring that you received the immediate medical attention you needed.

As the medical team rushed you towards the operating room, panic gripped the air, the urgency of the situation evident in their hurried movements. Doctors and nurses swarmed around you, their voices blending together in a chaotic symphony of commands and reassurances.

Butcher and Annie watched helplessly from the sidelines, their faces etched with concern as they observed the flurry of activity surrounding your unconscious form. Despite their own fears and uncertainties, they remained steadfast, determined to do whatever it took to ensure your safety.

Annie's surprise was evident as she turned to Butcher, her eyes narrowing in disbelief. "How the hell did you know she´s pregnant?".

Butcher shrugged nonchalantly, his gaze steady as he met Annie's incredulous stare. "I pay fucking attention", he replied bluntly, his tone leaving no room for further questions.

Annie's voice cut through the tension, her words tinged with urgency as she turned to Butcher. "I'm going to find Soldier Boy", she declared, her determination evident in her tone. "We need his blood for (Y/N)".

Butcher nodded grimly, his jaw clenched with worry, while Annie darted off, disappearing into the chaos of the tower in search of Soldier Boy.

Butcher's heart sank as he stood outside the operating room, his gaze fixed on the flurry of activity inside. Despite the doctors' efforts, he could hear the ominous rhythm of your heartbeat, irregular and weak. He knew that the odds were stacked against you.

Your injuries were severe—broken bones, internal bleeding, and the trauma inflicted by Homelander had taken its toll. The fact that you were still clinging to life was nothing short of miraculous.

Butcher clenched his fists, his mind racing with a mixture of anger and helplessness. He wanted to storm into the room and demand that the doctors do more, but he knew there was nothing more they could do. All he could do was stand there, waiting, praying for a miracle.

Ben's heart clenched as he burst into the operating room seconds later, his eyes fixed on your pale, unconscious form lying on the table. Covered in Homelander's blood, his own wounds forgotten in the urgency of the moment, he strode forward with purpose.

"No!", he barked, his voice echoing off the sterile walls of the room. "Don't touch her!".

The doctors and nurses turned to look at him, surprise and confusion evident in their eyes. But Ben's gaze was unwavering as he approached the table, his hands trembling with a mixture of fear and determination.

With a steady hand, Ben inserted a needle into his arm, drawing his own blood. His eyes remained fixed on you, his expression a mixture of fear, determination, and desperation. The room fell silent as the doctors and nurses watched, their hands poised but hesitant, ready to intervene if necessary.

Carefully, Ben injected his blood into your system, his movements precise yet urgent. With each drop that flowed into your veins, his heart clenched tighter, his mind racing with a torrent of thoughts and emotions.

"I've got you", he murmured softly, his voice barely a whisper amidst the tension of the room. "Just hold on, Baby. Please…".

Ben's heart clenched with each passing moment, his gaze fixed on you, the love of his life, lying so still on the operating table. The beeping of the machines monitoring your vital signs echoed in the room.

As he watched your heartbeat falter, Ben felt a surge of panic grip his chest. In that moment, it felt as though his own heart had stopped beating. The world around him seemed to fade away, leaving only you and the desperate need to save you.

With trembling hands, he continued to infuse his blood into your veins, willing it to reach every part of your body, to breathe life back into you. Each second felt like an eternity as he waited for a sign, any sign, that you would pull through.

"I can't lose you", he whispered hoarsely, his voice filled with anguish. "Please, (Y/N), don't leave me…".

The sound of the monitor's alarm pierced through the tension-filled silence like a knife, sending a jolt of fear coursing through Ben's veins. His heart sank as he watched the flatline on the screen, the stark reality of the situation hitting him like a sledgehammer.

"No…", he whispered. Tears welled up in his eyes as he felt a surge of desperation wash over him. He couldn't lose you, not like this.

Frantically, he leaned over you, his hands trembling as he searched for any sign of life. He pressed his ear against your chest, praying for the faintest whisper of a heartbeat, but there was nothing.

Panic consumed him as he realized that time was slipping away, that every second mattered. With a sense of determination, he began to administer CPR, his movements desperate and frantic as he fought to bring you back from the brink.

"Come on, Baby", he pleaded, his voice raw with emotion. "Don't you fucking dare leaving me!".

As Ben continued to administer CPR, his hands working with a mixture of desperation and determination. Despite the risk of exacerbating your injuries, he pressed on, each compression accompanied by a silent plea for your return to consciousness.

With every compression, he prayed for a response, a sign that you were fighting to come back to him.

And then, as if by some miracle, he felt the faint flutter of a heartbeat beneath his fingers.

Relief flooded through him, mingled with a sense of disbelief and gratitude. He didn't dare to hope too much, knowing that you were still in critical condition, but the fact that your heart was beating again was a small victory in itself.

Gently, he cradled your battered body in his arms, his voice choked with emotion as he whispered words of encouragement and reassurance. "That's it, (Y/N)", he murmured, his lips brushing against your forehead. "Stay with me. You're going to be okay…".

As Ben continued to infuse you with his blood, he watched with a mixture of relief and apprehension as your heartbeat grew stronger and your injuries began to heal.

Though the process was agonizingly slow, Ben remained by your side, his gaze never leaving your face as he willed you to keep fighting.

The seconds stretched into minutes.

Ben remained steadfast at your side, his heart racing with every beat of yours. The team stood outside the room, anxiously awaiting any signs of improvement. The doctors and nurses hovered around, their expertise focused on monitoring your vital signs and assisting Ben in any way they could.

For over an hour, Ben continued to infuse you with his blood, his determination unwavering as he watched your wounds slowly close and your injuries begin to heal. But still, you remained unconscious.

As the last drop of his blood flowed into your veins, Ben felt a sense of exhaustion wash over him, both physically and emotionally drained from the ordeal.

Ben pulled the needle away. Before he could stand straight, the dizziness overwhelmed him. The massive explosion and the blood loss were too much, even for him.

Butcher reacted quickly, catching Ben before he could collapse to the ground. The weight of his body felt heavy in Butcher's arms as he struggled to keep Ben upright. With a grunt of effort, he managed to support Ben's weight, his own exhaustion evident as he steadied himself against the nearby wall.

"Easy there, mate", Butcher muttered, his voice strained with fatigue. "You did good. Now let's get you sorted".

Ben's head swam with dizziness as he leaned heavily against Butcher, his vision blurring at the edges.

Hours later, Ben awoke in a hospital bed next to yours. He blinked a few times, trying to shake off the grogginess. The sight of you lying still beside him sent a jolt of panic through his chest. He quickly swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up, but another wave of dizziness hit him, forcing him to grip the bed's edge for support.

Butcher and Annie, who had been sitting on the couch, quickly stood up. "Whoa, take it slow there", Butcher said, moving towards Ben. "You’re no use to anyone if you keel over again".

Annie nodded in agreement, her expression a mix of concern and exhaustion. "You need to rest, Ben. You’ve done everything you could".

Ben shook his head stubbornly, his eyes locked on you. "I need to be with her", he muttered, his voice rough. "I can’t just lie here".

Butcher sighed, placing a hand on Ben’s shoulder to steady him. "You’re no good to her if you pass out again. Sit down".

Ben reluctantly sank back onto the edge of his bed, his gaze never leaving your still form. "Is she going to be okay?", he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, the vulnerability in his tone stark and raw.

Annie stepped closer, her eyes soft with empathy. "She’s stable for now. Your blood saved her, Ben. She just needs time to heal".

Anyway, Ben slowly walked over to your bed, his steps heavy and his body still covered in blood. He gently brushed a strand of hair off your face, his fingers trembling.

He waited for a few minutes, the fear of what would follow was too great.

For a moment, he closed his eyes, focusing his super hearing, desperate to hear the heartbeat of his child. But as the silence stretched on, a cold dread settled in his chest. There was no second heartbeat.

Butcher and Annie exchanged worried glances, sensing the shift in Ben’s demeanor. The realization hit Ben like a physical blow.

“Ben…”, Annie began, her voice soft and cautious, tears in her eyes.

Ben shook his head, not ready to hear the words. "No", he whispered, his voice breaking. "No, it can’t be…".

Butcher stepped forward, placing a hand on Ben’s shoulder, his usually harsh demeanor softening slightly. "Come on, Ben”.

...to be continued. -> here is the prequel "His second exception"

———————————

A/N: ALRIGHT!

Please… don't hate me. I know, I know. It's a fucking lot.

I can imagine this all seems rushed and too fast, but I'll be honest, I just wanted to get this horrible thing over with.

But! We are far from finished.

Since HOE has a whopping 33 chapters and fucking 164.396 words, there will be a second part, second ´Book` if u will. It will pick up exactly where we left off. Without a time jump or anything like that. The first three chapters are already done and I can´t wait to share them with you.

I promise we will be happy again🥰

Please let me know what you think <3 But pls don´t hurt my feelings too much. HOE is my Baby after all ._.

-

Taglist: @deangirl96, @thatgirljayy, @suckitands33, @deans-spinster-witch@mimaria420@kaz11283@uncle-eggy@jackles010378@vxnilla-hxrddrugs @meowmeowyoongles@sarahgracej @zemosdarling228 @leila22rogers @mostlymarvelgirl@emily-winchester @blacknoirr @onlyangel-444@seasonofthenerd@staple-your-mouth@artemys-ackles@selfdestructionandrhum@mystic-mara @kat-nee @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @star-yawnznn @me1501 @CheyNovaK @faephoria @hobby27

[playgrl0]

thoughts that i have about baji

that's my baby bruh😭

⁂ i feel like if you know me, you already know what i'm gonna say first:

⁂ baji BITES. he bites you whenever he can and he does it all over your body. he doesn't do it in public since you don't want that and he respects it. but behind closed doors? he bites every part of your body and he doesn't give a fuck. the public eye will see the bite marks he left though.

⁂ his favorite parts to bite you are your neck, your thighs (especially inner thighs) and breasts.

⁂ neck kisses. so so many fucking neck kisses.

⁂ he always holds your throat🫨 when you guys kiss. he doesn't squeeze it or anything, he just holds it instead of placing his hand on your cheek for example.

⁂ forgot to mention that he also loves when you bite him. do it do it do it. don't be shy!!

⁂ he loves when you brush his hair for him. he will walk up to you and hand you his brush without a word and you brush it for him. he thanks you by pecking your cheek and disappears again

⁂ he can get extremely clingy when he's tired or stressed out

⁂ tries to act tough on your wedding day but will literally burst into tears once he sees you. chifuyu hands him a tissue and laughs at him. "shut up, man." he sniffles and wipes his tears away.

⁂ calls you baby, babe, angel, mama or comes up with a silly nickname himself

⁂ if you're not sitting on his lap you're doing something wrong like, why sit on a chair, on the couch, on the floor, literally anywhere when his lap is RIGHT THERE??

⁂ he tackles you randomly, gets up again, walks away and acts like he didn't do anything.

⁂ a tease. a fucking tease. loves making you nervous.

⁂ he is so so loyal. would never even come close to the thought of cheating on you. he would never.

⁂ when girls hit on him, he literally ignores them. if they keep being pushy he tells them to leave him tf alone because he already has a girl. they could never compare to you anyway.

⁂ he definitely has a staring problem. he stares at you all the damn time, not matter how you look like or what you're doing. big fan of eye contact.

⁂ he's always horny

⁂ very protective. he doesn't play around when it comes to you

⁂ ppl say he takes good care of his hair but i disagree. personally, i think he uses 4 in one shampoo and that's it i think he's just blessed with good genes. or his mama forces him to take care of it lmao idk

⁂ he's obsessed with your ass. doesn't matter if you have a small one or a whole wagon, he loves your ass. he uses it as pillow or drums. he slaps it when walking past you. one hand is always on it.

⁂ forgot to mention that he also bites your ass heheheh.

⁂ likeee you're laying on your bed on your stomach wearing shorts. baji jumps on the bed between your legs and his hands travel from the back of your thighs, up to your ass below your shorts. his big, warm hands resting on your cheeks, squeezing them before he leans forward and bites each cheek to leave a bite mark

⁂ you flinch at the contact and push him away, he just grins at you, slaps your ass and then lays down to take a nap on your ass yeah yeah

⁂ has no concept of personal space. your personal space is his.

⁂ makes fun of you all the time but if someone else dares to make fun of you they're dead. nobody is allowed to bully you except for him

⁂ i see him with a tongue piercing, eyebrow piercing, helix piercings and one nipple piercing

⁂ and many, many tattoos 🫨

⁂ tough on the outside but definitely the absolute biggest softie on the inside

⁂ you'll definitely own at least two cats together. maybe even three.

⁂ if he falls in love with you, he'll never love anyone else after you. he loves hard. you're his one and only, his entire world. you two are endgame.

⁂ he's a slut.

that's all for now,,,, bye

tags: @shamelessperfectionhideout @vmlnrz @saintokkotsu @satanlovesusall666 @kiirsteinn @noritopia @gothamgurl2024 @ranscutedoll @bertholdts--butt @torakeii

<3 @ playgrl0

[ccscocoapuffs]

Negan NSFW Alphabet

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex) Negan loves to pull you into his chest after sex, he loves to just softly play in your hair while he whispers in your ear how good you did for him. His go to line is "Baby....you took it so well...such a good fucking girl"

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) Negan likes his eyes the most, despite being a hard ass 24/7 deep down his a big softie and the reason he loves his eyes is because they let him see you everyday, though he would never in a million years tell you that. Negan loves your thighs the most whether he gets to watch you sway your hips and those fine ass thighs prancing off with you or if he simply has his face buried between them, wither way negan loves them.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically) Negan adores a good cream pie, he loves watching drip out of you while he teases you about it. " aww poor baby, cant handle all daddy's cum?". He also loves cumming all over your face and taking polaroid's of it to keep in his jacket pocket.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) Negan wants softer sex, he's just believe it or not a little shy about it. He want's to keep the tough guy act up at all times but sometimes he just wants to lay you down and thrust into you deeply and slowly while he kisses down your neck and tells you he loves you.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?) Negan is very well experienced to say the least. Anything you wanna try 99.9% chance he has already tried it and will show you the ropes.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying) Negan ADORES doggy style, it gives him access to reach around and rub your clit, pull your hair, and even smack your ass if he wanted to. Though his close second would be missionary but with your knees up to your chest, he loves seeing how much you whine when he goes so much deeper that way.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.) Negan tends to be very serious but he sometimes can make you giggle or atleast crack a smile. He will kiss on the inside of your thighs noticing how you jump when his beard tickles you which makes him only begin to do it more just to hear that little laugh he adores.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) Negan is trimmed down to the stubble mark. He likes to keep it trimmed so the only thing you ever choke on is his cock and his cock alone.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect) Negan can be very intimate if he has the time. The truth is he is a very busy man and usually only has time for long sensual sex after everyone else has done slept and he gets a break for the day. Though if he gets the day off expect to have the most sensual hot sex of your life.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon) To be completely honest, Negan has zero need to masturbate, he loves you and he loves that pussy, so why use his hand? He has masturbated on one or two occasions though when he was away from you but he didn't find it all that pleasing.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks) Negan is one inky fuck to say the least. Breeding, BDSM, daddy, choking, spit, sadism, you name it Negan is probably down. He has very few things he would ever not consider.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do) Negan likes a little bit of a thrill and enjoys public sex quit often. He loves to sit you on a bench somewhere in the sanctuary at night while he eats you out, another favorite of his is simply his bedroom. It's positioned perfectly to where if you scream hi name everyone is gonna hear it and he will never let you live it down.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going) Negan loves high heels for starters, something about them just turn him on so much. He loves to fuck you in nothing but your lingerie and high heels. Another turn on is when you get jealous over him, say another girl rubs his chest and suddenly you wrap your arm around Negan's waist while telling the other girl "He's already claimed" Negan will be ready to bend you over right then and there.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs) Share you with another man, Negan is a simple guy when it comes to a No. He will not ever share you with another man, you are his and his alone. However if you want him to fuck you feral, flirt with one of the other saviors, especially Dwight or Simon. The thought of one of them getting to touch you pisses him the fuck off and he will fuck to make sure you remember who you belong too.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) Negan loves to give, though he uses it as a reward for good behavior. If you've been a good girl for him, he will set up on his desk and eat you out or lay you down on the edge of the bed before pulling your legs apart and eating like a starved man. In terms of receiving he would never say no to you, but he will always make you choke around him. It gives him such an ego boost to hear you choke on his cock.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.) Negan is always fast and rough, though if he trusts you enough to let you see the softer side of him then you will see that more slow and sensual side of him, one thing is for sure though he ALWAYS has to be in charge regardless of the pace.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.) Negan loves a good quickie especially one where you could get caught, his favorite place for one is inside one of the hallways on the sanctuary, where anyone can walk down and see you too right there with him buried deep inside you.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.) As stated above, negan likes it risky, he is always down for risk and the idea of it. He loves to add thrill to your endeavors it makes things a little more scandalous to him.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?) Let's ne honest here as much as I'd like to sit here and say he can go all night long, at the end of the day he is getting a little bit older. His average with you is still 2 rounds though. He always makes sure you cum till your legs are shaking despite how much he himself may cum. He is a kinky fuck but he is for sure a giving lover in the bedroom.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?) Negan loves toys, He doesn't have any for himself other than a simple cock ring. He enjoys using them on his partner more, he has a very large collection of toys he keeps hidden in his room. His favorites though are the remote control vibrator, the clit sucker, and of course his collection of belts just for making that ass red.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease) Two words. It's negan. World's biggest tease, he finds it arousing to get you going, he wants to make you a begging whining, soaking wet mess before he gives you want you want. He has to make sure you are dying to have it before he will give it.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.) Believe it or not Negan can be a little loud, mostly with his dirty talk and when he cums. When Negan finishes he lets out deep loud groans as he throws his head back, not giving a fuck who hears because no one would dare say anything to him anyway out of fear.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character) Negan adores the idea of you in a super girly lingerie set or super girly clothes while you do your daily duties within the sanctuary. Wear a little baby pink skirt for him while you bend over to pick up something, or adjust your boobs in a very very tight top and he may just die right there.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes) Negan is blessed to say the least. He is about 7 inches in length but he is girthy as fuck. He gives an amazing fucking stretch and he takes pride in that. He also has a slightly upwards curve towards the tip that makes it perfect for hitting your g-spot.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?) Negan has a very high sex drive and he isn't ashamed to admit to it either. He just loves the idea of both gaining pleasure and giving it. He also loves the dominance it gives outside of the sexual aspect of the relationship, for example if he calls for you and you answer him with a " yes daddy?" or "Yes sir" it only strokes his ego even more and makes him feel like a fucking god.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) He would never admit to it but kinda quickly afterwards. He likes to clean you up first before pulling you into his chest for some cuddles and praise while he slowly starts to drift off.

[imdead770]

The Outsiders x Reader fluff - Steve Randle

Authors Note - I think this man gets slept on way too much. I don't know his character too well, but enjoy.

Steve Randle -

▪︎ Let's start with the basics

▪︎ He has the guts to ask you out, yeah, but his ego is too fucking big to allow that

▪︎ He spent weeks trying to figure out how to ask you out

▪︎ Eventually landed on the classic "take them out as friends but we all know it's not as friends" date

▪︎ Asked you to go to some diner with him

▪︎ Literally said "It's a date", completely forgetting his plan

▪︎ Still worked though, win-win.

▪︎ Wore his basic jean vest, but he put on a cleaner t-shirt and his best pair of jeans

▪︎ Looked in the mirror for a bit either hyping himself up or admiring himself 💀

▪︎ Actually showered for once

▪︎ When he saw you he nearly passed out

▪︎ Here he was in a jean vest and you looked ready to be on the cover of vogue

▪︎ You both just talked the whole time

▪︎ He was way too hyped up to be nervous, so it was actually laid back and fun

▪︎ Really shitty jokes

▪︎ You both shared a milkshake, probably shared chocolate cake too

▪︎ Whenever you went back home and you kissed him on the cheek he almost ate dirt again

▪︎ Told the whole gang about it

" We shared a shake Soda, that ain't somethin' just anyone does "

" It's been two hours, Steve.. "

" Ya shoulda seen 'em! I mean- "

▪︎ Once you two started seeing each other more often, you sort of just stayed as best friends but added some perks

▪︎ Really shit inside jokes and really comfortable around each other + kissing and touching

▪︎ Whenever he finally worked up the guts to kiss you he almost broke your nose

▪︎ You were both laughing too hard to actually kiss

▪︎ Whenever you finally shut up it was a really good kiss though

▪︎ You know how Johnny moved down on Dal's leaderboard?

▪︎ On Steve's ranks he moved down cars and chocolate cake for you

▪︎ That's saying something

▪︎ Not a lot of pet names, some basic ones though

▪︎ Baby, babe, darlin'

▪︎ Probably some sweetheart scattered in there if he feels like it

▪︎ Spends an ass ton of time with you

▪︎ I feel like quality time would be one of his love languages?? I don't really know, I just think it fits him

▪︎ Whenever the gang has their own shit and he's done at DX he just hangs out with you

▪︎ Considers anything and everything a date.

▪︎ HIS TATTOO??

▪︎ You getting bored so you start tracing the outline of his tattoo, not even realizing how many butterflies you're giving him

▪︎ If you get cold he offers you his vest, completely forgetting its a fucking vest

" God it's cold.. "

" Ya' want my jacket? "

" .. that's not a jacket- "

" It's real' warm, I swear! "

▪︎ Doesn't do shit but you wear it to make him happy

▪︎ Always has his arm either around your shoulders or on your thigh

▪︎ I think he's actually pretty affectionate?

▪︎ Not in public, gotta be tuff, but in private he'll just hold you

▪︎ No reason, he just likes holding you

▪︎ Let's you touch the swirls in his hair or run your fingers through the longer pieces in the back

▪︎ Practically melts everytime you do so

▪︎ Always tells you stories about DX

" So I was tryna fix an engine when a possum just flew outta' nowhere! I swear, it was like it was sent from God or somethin'. Hada' get a rabies shot that day. "

▪︎ Suprisingly good with hair?? Not just good at it, he's obsessed with playing with your hair.

▪︎ You could be in the middle of an equation an he'll be twirling your hair around his fingers or braiding it.

▪︎ Either really quick kisses or deep makeout sessions, no in-between

▪︎ Always smells like gasoline and some weird cologne

▪︎ The thing is he doesn't wear cologne?

▪︎ You and the gang have played guessing games trying to figure out where the cheap cologne smell is coming from

▪︎ He's basically a sweeter Dallas

▪︎ Like he's tough and acts tough but he'll hold you in public he doesn't really care

▪︎ He's a dumbass but he's sweet

▪︎ 👍

[sylvies-chen]

ok started the episode a little late but I just finished it so here’s the weekly recap folks…

TED LASSO 3.04 THOUGHTS:

holy shit this episode was FANTASTIC there was so much going on!! so much goodness!!

roy seeing jamie butt ass naked at 4 am… who had this on their bingo card? anyone? no?

I’m SO glad we got that sassy & ted mess out of the way, I hope ted stops the casual sex and realizes it’s not fulfilling his needs

nate picking up the little lasso figurine and ted still having the picture of him and nate feels like a third act breakup montage of a rom com moment please I feel sick 😭

dani befriending a 108-year-old man just makes so much sense to me. that’s my friendly husband right there !!!!!

OKLAHOMA. motherfucking… OKLAHOMA??? oh my god this is insane I’m foaming at the mouth like the way she laughed at his pun when sassy called them insufferable the way he told her she was better off without rupert the implications of her using a term from his marriage counseling to coax the truth out of him THE WAY SHE INSTANTLY KNEW SOMETHING WAS WRONG WITH HIM

it’s also so good because that certainly wasn’t THE long awaited office chat or else they would have made a comment about “same place same time” so that means we have YET ANOTHER office chat coming up and I don’t doubt they’ll bring up “oklahoma” again

nate… ugh, what a guy. lonely is the only word for him. there’s something so sad and pitiable about where he’s at right now, getting all the fame and credit but no support. there is a good person inside him just banging to get out, you can feel it

ooooooof yeah shandy messed up BIG TIME and keeley, babe, it’s not your fault for trying to see the good in people and believing in them!! she’s probably going to have to make the tough call to fire her if she wants to get in jack’s good graces

the team getting angry and violent over seeing nate destroy the believe sign actually made me cry. it’s just beautiful to me, even if they reacted wrong in the context of the game. they’re saying, “we made something good here. we have something beautiful. how dare you defile what is sacred to us, something that has bettered us as people. feel our wrath. feel our hurt.” I love my richmond guys 😭

it’s so wild to me that rebecca dealt with rupert having an affair in a mature and restrained way but she lowkey went maniacal with ted at half time like girlie has range i guess wow 😂

TED’S FIRST ATTEMPT AT CONFRONTATION OH MY GOD FUCKING FINALLY and it went pretty well too!! he flat out admitted he was angry, and did so in a respectful way. the baby steps of growth that we see happening here are beautiful I’m so proud !!

can we get that sports commentator who said he kept predicting things too often to manifest a tedbecca endgame?

[xuhuihuis]

sub zb1 hcs pls 🥹

sub!hanbin who would try his best in being the best boy for you, always holding your hand and complimenting you. Coming home with the most beautiful flowers for you when he comes back from practise. Hanbin's cheeks would become a shade of pink whenever you praised him, especially in the bedroom. A string of praise fell from your lips as you jerked him off. Hanbin lay on the bed looking up at you with doll like eyes, almost pleading you. The closer he got to his orgasm the more he moved around finding it hard to hold back.

'Go on, make mommy proud...'

sub!jiwoong who would act all tough when out in public, but when you got home he was like a big teddy bear. Always hugging you and pouting when you had to move to get something. His smile was your favourite thing, always doing your best to keep him smiling no matter what. Holding onto his hands tightly as he rutted into your cunt. Whimpers fell from his lips as he found it hard to stop himself from coming too early, you just felt too good for him. Gently running your fingers through his hair as he is close watching how his eyes rolled to the back of his head.

'Cum, its okay. Mommy's here"

sub!hao is the biggest brat. If you don't let him do anything he wants to just expect him to be in a mood with you the rest of the day. Always pouting and not listening until you give him a lesson, that's what he really wanted in the end. He would look so pretty as he cries taking the strap. Holding onto anything he can to help ease the pain. Zhanghao's pretty sounds filled the room as he came close to his high, pleading and begging you to let him cum as he has been a good boy listening to whatever you said during his punishment.

'Cum, make mommy proud. My beautiful boy...'

sub!Matthew who would love it when you compliment his muscles, telling him how strong he is. He would love showing off how strong he is when in bed with you. Matthew was weak for your praise, rutting into you harder as you moaned about how good he felt inside of you. Fucking you up against the wall holding onto you very tightly. He would be a sucker for pet names, always becoming weak at the knees when you call him one.

'wanna cum, Prince? you feel so good'

sub!taerae who loves performing for you! always running to you when he learns a new song on the guitar just to hear the praise from you. He does have a brat side to him. It isn't just the good boy side all of the time. Backchatting you just to get out of doing something simple when he doesn't want to do it. Gripping onto his hair tightly as you sit on his face as he laps at your cunt like a starved man. Pleading you for forgiveness through muffled moans.

'shhh, make mommy cum. Maybe then you will get what you want'

sub!ricky who is the best boy for you! he always loves it when you let him show what he got from shopping that day. Smiling as he shows you everything, even if it was something small. Sub!ricky who would sit in the prettiest poses for you as you take pictures of him in the sets you got him. Looking into the camera in a sultry gaze, enjoying this more than he should. Changing from one position to the next, listening to your every demand praising him for being such a good boy.

'Such a pretty boy for me, baby, doing so well'

[skinbeneaththeskull]

Hear me out. reader “Bullying” (sexual teasing 🤓) Sub!Dave for being so soft and “weak” with Her but he acts like a tough guy out in public.

Like I can just see him being all shy with her behind closed doors and being really needy but the second someone else is in the room, They’d never know Dave likes being topped by his girlfriend.

Also not a mommy kink, but a ma’am kink.

i can imagine 80s Dave definitely being like this🤭

he would let you ride him, wanting to see howl beautiful you were on top and he seemed to like it.... a lot. he would have his head leaning back on the headboard of the bed, squirming as you bounce faster and faster, him whining loudly with tears in his eyes. he was so deep inside, he couldn't help himself.

"ffuck.. f-fuck! bbaby, slower hun-" he looked up, face all red and puffy, along with his eyes, moving his hands up to your hips to try and slow you down to a pace he could take easily.

you stopped completely before ripping his hands off of you and holding them both together by his wrists, him giving a pout. you leaned towards his ear, whispering to him, "you can take what i give you, ain't that right, Davie?" you pulled away, caressing his cheek with your free hand. he leaned his face into your touch, face stained with tears. "if you move, you're not getting your release, you understand?" you asked, tipping your head to the side.

Dave whined as he just nodded at your words, "can't hear you, baby. speak up for me." you huffed. he looked up at you through his fluffy bangs, "y-yes....ma'am" you smiled before grinding against his hard on, him throwing his head back at the touch.

he kept involuntarily thrusting his hips up, trying to get more friction despite his plead for you to go slower. you eyed him at his movement, but let it go. "thought you wanted it slower," you chuckled "fuccck you're needy." he whined at the comment but you just kissed him to make him shut up.

he was moaning into your mouth as you started to fuck yourself on his cock, biting on your bottom lip. you pulled away and he started to look more and more fucked out. he looked so pretty like this and he didn't even know it.

"i-i- baby- close.. 'm close- so close, pplease.."

he was trying so hard not to fill your throbbing cunt, genuinely trying so hard to have any type of self control.

"dunno, do you deserve it?"

"mh- mhm!! please- i- i-i'll do anything baby, please- wanna fill you up so bad, need it so bad.."

he wasn't gonna stop begging, kissing his softly one more time, him looking up at you lazily. "can i?" he asked, voice all soft and breathy. you nodded before he broke out of your hold, him wrapping his arms around your torso, pulling you two together before fucking into you at a pace you were going at before, just staring at his dick thrusting in and out of your tight pussy. it just turned him on so much more, him immediately shooting his seed inside of you.

you moaned, a string of "Dave"'s leaving your mouth. he gasped when he came, a high pitched moan leaving his lips, holding the back of your head softly. "thank you s' much- love you- i love you.." he mumbled.

he kissed all over your face, pulling put before covering the both of you with the big comforter, immediately drifting off to sleep.

[ddejavvu]

omg omg i am so sorry for not giving a plot for my last request!! you are so sweet, thank you so much for responding! <33 maybe something along the lines where exterminator!eddie has his sweet innocent girlfriend and when he comes home from work she’s absolutely terrified of a certain bug (unfortunately i’m clueless on bugs or any creature that is to be exterminated lol!) and eddie acts all big and tough like, “nah babe i got this” but even then he’s absolutely terrified.

today is multiverse monday! send me any au you can think of :)

nonono you are so sweet! i'm glad you were able to resubmit one :D i hope you enjoy!

--

You're sitting cross-legged in the middle of Eddie's parking spot when he pulls his company van into the driveway, and he frowns at your intrusion. You're up on your feet as soon as you see him coming, scrambling out of the way of his headlights so that he doesn't flatten you.

"Babe," He rolls the van window down, leaning out of it to greet you with a kiss, "What are you doing outside? It's nine at night."

"There's a bug in the kitchen," You inform him, fear heavy in your voice, "A really big one, Eddie. It's gross, I need your help."

"Never fear," He grins, endeared by more than sympathetic towards your panic, "That's what I'm here for, Miss."

He hops down from the van, stuffing the keys in his pocket and starting for the house. You stop him and yank him back to the van, apprehension in your gaze, "Eddie, get a net or something. Or like, a box. A cup. A flamethrower. You can't take him alone."

"He's a bug, not an assassin," Eddie laughs incredulously, "Babe, my job is getting rid of bugs. I can handle this."

"No you can't," You insist, stealing the keys from his pocket and holing yourself up in his passenger's seat, "But when you flee the house in terror please grab my purse!"

Waiting in the car is excruciating. You can't see into the kitchen, there's only a window around the back of the house, so you don't know whether the monster you'd seen crawling out of the sink drain had murdered your poor boy and was coming for you, next. Fortunately, you have to wait only two minutes before Eddie comes sprinting out of the front door, your purse swinging in his hand.

He catapults himself into the driver's seat, bouncing as he lands and grips the steering wheel like it owes him money. His eyes are blown wide, cheeks flushed and breathing heavy.

"Okay," He pants, "Uh, that was gnarly. Centipede, I think. Wayne's specialty. So, uh, we're gonna call him. Okay? That's not- Christ, that's not my department."

"Is it poisonous?" You tuck your knees up on the seat while Eddie fumbles with the company phone, a big chunky receiver mounted into the center console of the van.

"Nah," He shakes his head, curls flying, "Just weird. I don't fuck with anything that has more than eight legs."

Wayne captures the thing in record time. Of course, he spends five minutes before going inside laughing at you, then another ten holding the centipede tantalizingly close to your faces, watching you scream.

"You two are babies." He chuckles, gruff and grizzled, "Son, your job is to work with critters like these."

"Nope. No, fuck that." Eddie pants from his place tucked tight against your chest, clinging to your shoulders, "I'm quitting."

[variety-fangirl]

Ahhh hellooo!! Can I request a headcanon about what dating Jimmy would be like? Take as much time as u need xoxo

Authors note: decided to get this done before the others because it's short 😁 thank you for requesting my love! Hope you liked it 🫶. Thank you 🥺🥺 reblogging, commenting, and liking really helps me out. Thank you and enjoy!

Warnings: 18+ NO MINORS SHOO mention of sexual themes and swearing

Dating Jimmy Would Include:

Jimmy would be sweet and kind, only vulnerable and emotional around you because he trusts you deeply. But it took you a long time to bring that sound out of him, years maybe because he likes to act tough. Considering the line of work he's in, he has to appear strong and no nonsense.

He would act all tough around others, intimidating them to do as he asks. And then in private with you, he'd been all over you. He loves his girl more than anything. He would love to take you out on dates and just absolutely spoil you, even if you don't ask for anything, he would insist.

He would be intimacy starved, having just had one-night stands for most of his life. That when the first night you had made love, not fucked, he would be absolutely feral for you and obsessed with pleasing you. Though, he no doubt has a secret dom side, a bit kinky and probably a daddy kink. Jimmy would be a marker, leaving hickey's everywhere for everyone to see who you belong to.

You know this mother fucker has a big dick and he knows it too, cheeky bastard he screams big dick energy. He would be so cocky about it, he'd often comment in the bedroom about it. "You can take it, baby.", "Look at me stretching you out." with a shit-eating grin on his face the whole time.

He would be attentive and loving afterwards, making sure to take care of you. He'd gently use a warm washcloth to clean your sore sensitive pussy. He'd also run you a hot bath and carry you in there, Jimmy would end up washing you. He'd massage your scalp while washing your hair with shampoo, and even help you with any hair care steps you needed to do.

Showering and bathing together is a must, every time he'd hear you running the water he'd come running. "Shower or bath time?" with a smile. You would just laugh and tell him which one it was, and it would usually result in shower or bath sex before cleaning yourselves. He always found it very hard to keep his hands to himself when you are naked, and let's be real, he wouldn't really try to stop himself from touching you anyways.

The man has sta-min-a for daaaays. This bitch would have you spread wide, wetter than an ocean for hours as he switched between ruining your pussy for all other men (not that you would ever want anyone else) and making you feel like an absolute sex goddess that needs to be worshipped. Our man could go for hours and would give you so many orgasms.

He would be fiercely protective over you, always making sure you are safe and giving you everything your heart desires. You would not go without, that's for sure. Not even just materialistically but emotionally and physically in the relationship also. He would always have a lil jealous streak 🤏

Jimmy is a gentleman through and through for the woman he loves. This man would open car doors for you, open doors to buildings for you, make sure you don't walk on the side of the road (always inside), he would insist on paying the bill but let you if you really wanted to, and would always bring home flowers.

[boxwinebaddie]

Has Raven/Jersey ever broken a bone?

alright, *cracks knuckles*

this one goes out to sickfic princess ana and whumpwhiz rp.

*blows a kiss to the heavens bc they're angels* MWAH!

but aaaaany-knee-ways:

...it's interesting, actually.

( or at least, it is to me, darling. )

because of how he's written, you'd think probably think, 'oh, but nina! jerseykyle gets in all these fights. he's all big and tough and strong! he prolly breaks bones all the time!" and that's precisely IT, my dear!

jersey breaks bones;

he does not get his bones broken.

EVER.

and i suppose that's because he is a seasoned fighter. ergo, he knows how to throw a wicked punch, where exactly on your body it will hurt or humiliate you the most -- probably a combination of the two if he's feeling particularly pissed that day ( everyday ) -- how many times to do it, where you're vulnerable, sees everyone as a possible adversary and thus, weaponizes the moment he sees you, surveys you, sizes you up, indicates what kind of threat you are and…

Promptly Neutralizes You.

he takes all these precautions, runs all these tedious, elaborate tests and intense, premeditated processes of elimination ( literally ), not just because he does not like losing, which he doesn't...but because he literally can't. simply put: he does not know how to lose or get hit.

see, jersey does not cope with pain very well. mentally or physically. that's why he inflicts pain, because he is secretly scared of feeling it.

on the outside, he is a harsh, frightening, impenetrable, menacing thing covered in barbs and wires and armed heavily, because on the inside he is extremely fragile and should even the smallest chink in his armor form, his entire fierce façade will shatter into smithereens.

he does not like to get hurt, to feel weak, to feel unpleasant and horrible things, so he does everything in his power to be powerful so that he will never feel powerless. it's why he learned how to fight, it wasn't to hit people, it was to avoid being hit by other people. it was a defense mechanism because of how often he got bullied and how weak he constantly was from swimming out against the current of all his chronic illnesses. a lot of people would just let go of that short stick that life gave them and drown, but not kyle. not my baby. no, his life belongs to him. so he sharpened that stick into the shiv...

stuck it straight through the gut of life,

— and made god beg for HIS mercy.

but yes, it's all a perfectly placed show. because my boy, scary and frightening as he may be swinging those freckled fists of fury...

is a fucking WUSS.

who has not broken a lot of bones actually! not his anyways! because when he does lose a fight, he is a sore fucking loser indeed because he's suddenly hit with all this pain that he does not know how to endure or deal with and literally is such a baby and a princess, omg.

i /swear/ that WHOLE divorce whumpshot para and the one of him barfighting is him acting really tough and cool, but hes really like hooly shit, this sucks so fkn Bad, i hate this, i want my mOM!! :'(

riiiiiiiiiip, lmaooooo.

spoiler alert: jersey kyle is dainty and spoiled. he is a champion complainer and if gets a papercut...

you will hear about it.

trust.

conversely, however...lead singer ravenstan,

is very Quiet about pain.

ravenstan knows pain like the back of his hands, he, unfortunately, has had hands on him his entire life and where kyle learned to kick and claw and bite, stan just...internalized and endured all that pain.

he isn't brutal or vicious, he is kind and forgiving, he does not hurt things even if they are hurting him and has been hurt so much that being hurt is as easy as breathing to him…which is horrible because he has asthma and a lot of smoke-related respiratory damage.

but yeah, i actually ( god, i love you ravenstan ) want to scream because where jersey is hard outside and soft inside, raven is soft outside and hard inside and is extremely good at being hurt, ( a child weaned on pain thinks hurt is a comfort, rip ), will take pretty much anything you throw at him and because he literally does not want to inconvenience you...will not even indicate that he's hurt to you.

like he is very passionate about protecting and taking care of other people, but he does not care at all about himself or what happens to him, so if you're hurt, he is on his hands and knees, comforting you, placating you, doing whatever he can to help you...and he might have three bullets in his back, you wouldn't know until he started bleeding through his clothes and fell over. that man is a fucking TANK, guys.

the universe has tried to kill ravenstan...several tries.

( suicide tw, he has also tried a couple times </3 )

no such luck.

it helps that he actually has a surprising amount of off-hand medical knowledge because sharon transferred a lot of it onto him during stan's childhood when she was patching him up because he was a fkn disaster child who tracked mud and blood into her house 25/8, spent three days in a tree and took a hockey puck to the face.

i genuinely think that a large part of why stan was able to survive and endure a lot of the horrors he had was because sharon scolding him in spanish and teaching him stuff literally saved his fucking life.

but yeah, ravenstan is my selfless, accident prone king. he is such a mess, pilots his body so carelessly that it is legitimately frightening. he is constantly covered in bruises he doesn't remember getting, scratches he didn't even notice, does dumb shit and gets hurt and like literally can’t tell he's hurt until he is like abt to pass out.

tldr: rave gets hurt often and has broken a lot of bones.

usually because he's doing stupid, heroic shit.

for example, i am not sure how it got broken, i like to think it was at a concert or an event and he SAVED SOMEONE from something falling or what have you and broke the fuck out of his arm. so his arm was in a cast ( i need it to be hot pink ) and he was super bummed out and felt hella bad because he had a meet and greet and couldn't sign autographs so he just let everyone else...

give him Their autograph instead.

so no one got a personally signed picture of raven of crimson dawn, but much cooler, imo, was that they all personally signed his cast.

my eyes are leaking, lmao. branch in my eyeeee. ;-;

gods...sweet...sweet angel. uGh.

THIS IS SO LONG, BUT I HOPE THIS ANSWERS YOUR QUESTION! idk why i got so invested in this, omg, but thank you for asking and being curious and thank you all for being so lovely and asking me things. it means a lot to me that you care and know i adore you.

-uncle nina, jerseykyle inflictor of angst pain

( and major wuss ) >.>

[chweverni]

DO WHAT?

pairing; park sunghoon x fem!reader synopsis; your and your boyfriend got together six months ago, so it's normal for him to take time to open up to you. but what happens when you ask him to do the you(=i) trend with him? word count; 615 warning; might be a little cringe, sunghoon creates a fake persona for himself which the reader detects already, fluff (?) author's note; a sucker for sunghoon, a sucker for dancers, a sucker for this dynamic, i hope my first fic on enha is entertaining! :3 not proofread ;-;

-

your boyfriend of six months, sunghoon, who you met a few years ago at the dance studio, was an introvert. so he took some time to get comfortable with you, and he tried his very best to make you feel loved, but at his own pace. and you respected it, you respected him. because he treated you very well. he's a shy dude, but after warming up to each other, he talks, a lot.

but it isn't your fault that you awfully wanted to re-create the numerous dances you see couples online doing. because, it wasn't you who wanted to keep seeing them, it's the stupid app that kept on recommending them. and you had to be honest, because you knew how adorable sunghoon would look, making the heart with you, or linking arms and swinging in circles with you. it made your heart ache at how sunghoon would totally die a little on the inside to do this, because maybe you would be pushing too hard.

but he was a dancer, so this barely 20 seconds video, shouldn't be that big of a deal for him, right?

-

wrong. you were wrong. you now stood in front of a very, very, flustered and shocked boyfriend, who was stuck in a dilemma whether to agree to do it or not. for him, he really wanted to do it, he did. but, a part of him held him back, screaming 'do you really want to break the third wall of you being hot and intimidating to your obviously very cool girlfriend?'. and for him, it was a fair reason. these past months, even if he's been a pro at making you believe that he was and is a tough guy who will protect you at all costs, that claim was only true to him. because you found his little acts of service cute instead.

"you want me to do what?", sunghoon asked again, looking straight to your eyes, to make sure that you're being serious.

"please, please, please. hoonie, it's barely twenty seconds. i promise it will be quick! it's so cute..", you drew out the last phase as your voice became quieter, while you shot your most-convincing, oscar-winning look at him.

"but i'm not cute! i'm your tall, very strong and, and-", before sunghoon could add another word, you interrupted him.

"okay fine! i think you don't love me anymore. this was supposed to be a cute memory of us but i don't think you even wanna keep it!", you put on a faux act, knowing it would win him over, as you crossed your arms, turning your face away from him.

she did not just pull that card. sunghoon was in disbelief. how can you literally judge the strength of his love for you off of a mere video? he can do the dance. and he will, for you.

-

"and.. that's.. it!", you ended the video as it started saving it in your storage. you kept the phone on the table, as you quickly stole a kiss from sunghoon's lips. "thank you so much for agreeing, baby! you made me very happy, and for that, i dub thee, the greatest boyfriend on earth! and with that, i invite you to a date with me, to the restaurant nearby, so celebrate your promotion!", you said, hugging him tightly.

sunghoon's ears were now blood red, but he didn't understand one thing.. what boyfriend was he before then?

"baby?", he asked as you hummed.

"what boyfriend was i before? was i not great enough?"

"well.. you did pretend to be cold and mysterious around me..", you drew the sentence slowly, smiling to yourself.

so she knew? well fuck.

-

there's a shakk in our jjappaguri <3

all creds to chweverni only on tumblr byeee <33

[zimwritez]

stress reliever

WC: 639

Warnings: 18+ SMUT, f!sub!reader-dom!eric, ummm anger? HELP it’s nothing too serious 😁

A/N: hayyyy!! this is a story that I wrote FOREVVERR ago, when I first got into the boyz and had another blog (can’t remember the name, celestial tbz maybe? something like that). it hasn’t been read in years so im sorry if it has errors. let me know how u like it!

(also i don’t know how to add the read more tag on mobile so I’m sorry if this clogs ur TL 🥹🙏)

———

normally when you stay at eric’s house everything is all smiles and sunshine. you play videogames, have pillow fights and watch TV, but this time something was different. eric has been acting less empathetic lately and it’s really been putting you off. you walk into the office he’s sitting in, and ask a question.

“eric? can I make you some dinner? are you hungry?”

he looks at you with an annoyed expression and mumbles some words.

“i don’t care what you make me.”

you sighed as you moved over to eric and gently sat down on his lap in his chair. you tried to stretch your arms around him and give him a big hug but he wasn’t having it. he turns his face away from you, trying to not make eye contact, keeping his annoyed face on.

“eric...listen I know things have been tough for you lately but I’m really trying to help you and I want to make sure everything is going okay.”

you move your hands back upwards and try to cup his face in your hands. he instead grabs both of your hands and wraps them behind your back, forcing you to move closer.

“you don’t know how badly I want to just fuck the shit out of you right now.”

...you gulped as eric’s annoyed expression turned into an evil smirk. that boy looked like he had the devil in his eyes and you didn’t know how to feel. you looked down with your eyes still shocked from the words that came out of eric’s lips as you feel him release your hands.

“what are you doing...” you quietly whisper.

eric takes his hat off and throws it to the side, and slowly puts his cold hands under your shirt, making you gasp. he moves his hands closer and closer to your back and slowly unclips your bra.

“eric, is this really what you want?”

“this is what I need y/n...”

he brings himself even closer to you, and slowly starts sucking on your neck and collar bone, making you slightly moan and tilt your head back. moving his hands back down, he grabs the ends of your shirt and slides them over your face.

“such a pretty girl. you’re my pretty girl.”

the pleasure is immense. the feeling of eric’s soft lips and hard dick makes you feel euphoric. you can feel him start to rise under you, and it makes you want to moan even louder.

he moves his hands lower, grazing over your clothed clit and massaging in figure 8’s. you mewl in pleasure, and start to buck your hips back and fourth. eric moves his fingers and starts bucking his hips upward, meeting your pace.

“eric please...I need you now.”

he smirks even more. you get up and lay down on the couch behind you, eric follows, and stands over you, taking off his shirt and pants.

“i want these off.”

he starts pulling at the hem of your underwear, and slides them off, exposing how dripping wet you were. taking off his boxers and aligning himself with you, he slowly slides his dick up and down your folds, making you move as you moan.

“eric please stop teasing and just put your fucking dick inside me”

he laughs slightly before sliding into you, making you mewl and moan as your eyes roll back into your head. he starts to move faster and faster, his pace quickening. you start to moan louder and see stars. eric’s grunting makes you want to cum even faster, and you soon hit your climax.

eric pulls out and pumps his dick right before he ends up cumming on your tits, making the room finally silent besides the noises of your heavy breathing.

“thanks for being my stress reliever baby.”

he flashes a cute smile.