#he thinks of them being able to 'stand tall'

[desideriumwriter]

Anyone But You | Chapter 16

Summary: You really shouldn't have gone to Lee's party, you shouldn't have drank so much, you shouldn't have let your jealously take over, you shouldn't have let Fred see you at all that night.

WC: 1.9k

A/N: short but messy as HELL, sorry yall

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Going to that party was a mistake, you knew it the second you walked through the doorway. You knew it the moment Alicia walked in, followed by a tall ginger boy. You knew it when the alcohol on the kitchen island began to feel like comfort.

Yet, you told yourself you weren’t going to let Fred’s presence ruin your night, like you had let it ruin your mood for years.

It wasn’t just Fred’s presence that was ruining it. It was the fact that Fred showed up to the party with someone. Another girl. A date. 

You had no idea if Alicia and Fred were together, you had no idea what their relationship status was. But whatever thing they seemed to have going on, it put a weird feeling in your stomach. An uneasy one.

It was that same feeling of envy that you had when you saw him and Angelina at the Yule Ball, the feeling that you tried to convince yourself it was caused by the envy of Fred having someone to take to the ball, and not the envy of someone having Fred.

That feeling would go ignored by you, pushed away and buried along with all the other intruding feelings Fred had made you feel.

After seeing them enter, you made it your mission to keep as far away from them as you could. 

You stayed with Angelina and Katie, drank, made awkward small talk, sat outside, talked to a random group of Hufflepuff kids outside, stood around, drank some more.

You were honestly quite content, maybe a little awkward, but you weren't completely miserable. The night had been going pretty good, there hadn’t been any issues at all. Yet.

Of course, until you split off from Angelina and Katie again. They both needed to use the bathroom and you promised you’d save their seats on the couch you were all sitting together on.

Angelina and Katie leaned against the hallway wall, stuck in the line of people that nearly wrapped around the corner.

“How long does it take for someone to piss, wash their hands, and go?”  Katie groaned, looking up and letting her head hit the wall. 

“Why don’t we just go to the bathroom upstairs?” Angelina suggested.

“Last I heard, a couple was getting busy in there.” Katie fake gagged and Angelina grimaced, her dramatic expression fell as she tilted her head over, being able to get a slight view of you waiting on the couch. Behind you, Fred and Alicia distanced away from you, talking to each other.

“You think Fred and Alicia actually have something going on?” Angelina said as she stared, Katie lazily looked over.

“Don’t know. I feel bad for Y/N though. She likes Fred, she just won’t admit it.” Katie sighed and shrugged.

“I wish she’d admit it, she says she's learned to tolerate him and George. But you don’t spend that much time thinking about someone unless you actually care about them, or what they’re doing.” Angelina tutted, “Besides, it seemed like Fred had eyes for her, at least for a moment. I don’t understand, Y/N was just starting to warm up to him. Now he’s off with Alicia.” Angelina shook her head disappointedly.

“Just how boys are. They’re always so confusing, always messing around, never truly clear about how they feel.” Katie inhaled, standing up as the line shuffled forward.

“You think they’ll ever get together? Y/N and Fred?” 

“Maybe. If Fred is clear about what he wants. And if she stops being so stubborn.”

Your leg bounced up and down as you waited, smushing yourself into the corner of the hard couch. Looking around the room at all the partygoers before your night was fucked.

A pair of girls that were unknowingly blocking your sight of the other side of the room moved to another spot in the house, revealing what they were covering.

Fred. Alicia. Sitting on the same chair and giggling at each other. Her sitting on his lap in the leather armchair. Her hand playing with a strand of his hair at the back of his neck. Their faces being way too close for comfort.

You could see Freds mouth moving, calling her a cute petname. It made you sick, seeing him use that term of endearment for someone. Someone that wasn’t you.

And that was your cue to leave. You needed to get out of there, away from them. You lost your friends in the sea of people that crowded the house, but you did find the kitchen, the overhead light shining down on the marble slab island covered with various bottles of alcohol and cups.

In that moment, the warmth of the alcohol going down your throat and into your stomach would be the only warmth you were going to get that night.

Then not soon after, you somehow ended up in a drinking challenge. It was between you and a random Ravenclaw boy, seeing which one of you could finish a row of shots quicker. Another attempt at a distraction.

You took shot after shot, slamming the glasses down on the counter as you beat the boy next to you. You were cheered and applauded by party goers surrounding the kitchen counter. The cheering and liquor made you so brave that eventually you picked up a bottle of fire whiskey and drank straight from it. The cheering grew louder.

Fred, of course, followed the noise with a smile, wanting to see which dumb kid was playing a drinking game now. Only to realize you were that dumb kid as he approached the crowd watching you chug down the liquor.

His face dropped as he saw you, his curious smile turning into a worried frown. You made eye contact with him as you put the now-half finished bottle down. 

Grimacing at the taste then smiling spitefully, raising your arms up in the air at the ovation you were getting. You moved your way through the crowd after taking a random beer can with you, giving high fives to other random drunk kids. You just wanted to get away from Fred. Again.

Yet Fred followed, he caught up and grabbed your shoulder, turning you around. You angrily stepped, more of a drunken stumble, away from his touch before taking another drink from your beer.

“Come on, put that down. You shouldn’t have anymore, you’re gonna drink yourself sick.” He said, taking the can from your hands.

“What are you? My fucking caretaker?” You spat at him, trying to take the drink back. He ended up chugging it, so you couldn’t take it back. You gawked at him.

“What the hell?- So I can’t drink but you can? What the hell is your problem?”

“I’m not the one who's going to have a splitting headache in the morning. I’m trying to keep you from making it worse.” He put the can down on a random side table.

“Whatever. Why don't you just leave me alone and go back to flirting with Spinnet?” You rolled your eyes at him, crossing your arms over your chest.

“What are- Are you jealous?” Fred narrowed his eyes, sticking his head out at you.

“Oh that’s where we’re going now?” You let out a faux laugh, looking at him in disbelief. You weren’t really sure what made you, but you turned away and wobbled your way down the nearest empty hallway. Wanting to escape from Fred.

But of course, Fred with his long legs followed suit. You made your way into a random master bedroom and tried to slam the door right in his face.

“I’m not gonna have you walk away from the conversation.” Fred said as he pushed open the door, closing it behind him. “What is your problem?”

“What’s my problem? What the fuck is your problem? You go and act like you’re in love with me and then you go off and start messing around with another girl.” You spat out, poking your index finger into his shoulder before crossing your arms.

“Are you seri- You’re the one that kissed me!” Fred exclaimed, face full of confusion.

“Yeah? Well, you kissed me back!” You threw your arms up and turned your back to him. You knew your argument was going nowhere, this was pointless. 

“Well I’m sorry that for a moment I thought there could’ve been some sort of thing between us.”

“You keep- God- I can’t- You are so insufferable!” You shouted at him, the combination of the loudness of your voice and how close the two of you were made Fred flinch.

“Yeah. I could say the same about you.” He let out an angry breath, jaw clenching.

“Oh, fuck you!” You pushed Fred, your blood was hot and the effects of your were beginning to flow through you. 

“You always make me so…” You trailed off, eyes glossy as you stared at him with awe. Why was he always so pretty?

And in what felt like a flash, you were pulling onto his sweater vest and bringing his lips to yours. He grabbed onto the sides of your face and pushed back into the kiss.

It was messy, it was sloppy, it lasted longer than the last time. 

You both pulled back at the same time to finally breathe, your lips swollen and chests taking in deep breaths. His hands were still holding your face while yours were still holding onto his vest.

“What are we doing? What are you doing?” Fred sighed, clearly exhausted. “Why won’t you just admit you love me?”

"I don't want to love you." You swallowed, a shaky breath leaving you. 

"But you do." 

"I don't know if I do."

Fred dropped his hands to his sides, stepping back and leaning against the dresser behind him. He threw his head back, shaking it in disappointment.  Saying nothing, he headed for the door, you stopped him.

“Wait! I- please don’t leave.” You begged, grabbing his hand and pulling.

“Why are you doing this to me?” He drew out, punctuating the sentence using your name. “I don’t understand. You spend years hating my guts. You kiss me then you run away, you come back and want to be friends,” He paused, taking a second to rub a hand down his face. 

“Then you get mad when i’m hanging around another girl, you kiss me again and say you don’t want to love me, then beg me to stay? I don’t understand you, I really don’t.” He sighed.

I don’t understand myself either. You wished you could say, you stayed silent instead, lip quivering. Guilt burning a hole in your stomach.

“Why can’t you just come to your fucking senses?” He sighed, sounding and looking like a disappointed parent. He mumbled an apology, screwing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.

“I’m begging for you to make up your mind.” He added, bringing his hands up and then dropping them back at his sides.

You couldn’t say anything, the lump in your throat stopping you. You were clenching your jaw so hard you could break a tooth, trying to fight back any more tears from falling, though you failed. There was no point, you were at a loss. He was right.

“You shouldn’t be crying over me, you're wasting your tears.” Fred muttered as he swiftly walked out the room, shutting the door behind him. 

You let out a loud sob as you sat down on the bed behind you. Crying like a child while you raked your hands in your hair.

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[urautismdiagnosis]

Pokes u

Do you have Barnacles Headcanons to share with his wife (aka me)

YES also sorry for the late response lol uhhh this is mostly just stuff from my au lol and its got different world building than the show does

Ok first off some context, in my au the reasons for PEOPLE species to have different traits is more based on environmental factors and conflicts between other groups of people. 👌

There are definitely some wild species that aren't even intelligent enough to have nearly any sapience (in simple terms its self awareness) that would probably end up being food or wtv, but like going based off of irl stuff polar bears mostly need high fat diets and unless there are a TON extra of high fat food fish thatd make the arctic pretty hard to survive

Unless ofc 👀 well they are PEOPLE people so u can convince me they'd have somehow domesticated either musk or (hoofed arctic animal) or bred some other kind of milk producing animal as a source of food

All I'm saying is that he could and would and has eaten an entire wheel of cheese before

And he absolutely has a secret stash of high fat snacks because I think he might be a liiiiittttle bit self conscious about it

Because he realized that arctic animals and non arctic animals have HUGE differences in social norms and apparently most animals don't have at least 3 inches of fat minimum on their entire body???

And its not cuz hes embarrassed of the fat, its normal and healthy, he just doesn't want to go from Trustworthy and Reliable Captain of thr Octonauts to "oh my god i need like an entire cheesecake rn to feel normal" in front of everyone cuz like 😭 he is a bit of a comfort eater. Like ah yes our strong and level headed captain is eating an entire box of oreos at 2 am because he misses his sister again 😭

Ofc the others do find out but there isn't any judgement if anything kwazii would probably join him, bro has a history of having weird food habits (hm wonder why... surely nothing related to being shipwrecked on an island and having to survive) and its nice

He does like, have THE best snacks tho and he might be hoarding them just a tiny bit-

he also can feel a bit worried about coming off as too large or intimidating so thats why he's always got his hands on his hips- and his head lowered down a bit

its not that he seems like physically scary but a larger presence can be intimidating for a lot of people

Teeth and claws aren't usually seen as intimidating in most scenarios in this world because its so common and is just like a feature of the species the same way hearing or smell can be btw

so yeah someone threatening to scratch ya can be scary but so can someone being able to find you because they can hear ur heartbeat 💀🙏

Back to the main point, like all the other octonauts aren't even like medium sized animals (like wolves and whatever), there ALL very small species. So hes like way in the upper range, the highest and tallest possible species while everyone else are all smaller ones specifically

So if barnacles is Actually Mad (💀 the scenario to make him genuinely mad has to be BAD) then he will go to his FULL HEIGHT

Cuz irl polar bears got very tall strong necks and etc so I think him standing at Full Serious Height would be very startling

Also about polar bears sense of smell!

Circling back to the adaptations being related to survival pressures and social ones

Polar bears in this world, use their sense of smell for something very important in the arctic: navigation, above and below water

It prevents things like getting lost in the wintery white world, which is so so easy for others. It can help find others than might be lost, and it can tell u if they r injured or not and I think thats precious

there is one problem tho, while their sense of smell is VERY strong, stronger than bloodhounds and etc, its made for being able to detect things very far away in freezing temperatures... so they're extremely sensitive

Which wouldn't be that much of an issue if barnacles wasn't in all sorts of more tropical environments...

In thr artic all u can smell is other people, animals, and which was is home

But if he's not in the octopod or under the water,but somewhere where there's THOUSANDS of insects,hundreds of pollinating plants, and tons and tons of different creatures all at once-

I think thats be overwhelming and he's probably be allergic to sooooooo many plants poor guy 🥺

Also even tho he like trims and thins out his thick coat, and even has a little cooling pack vest sort of thing under his uniform he can still overheat pretty easily

Cuz yk, the several inches of brown fat or blubber? Someone might say "hey just adjust ur diet and whatever to lose it" but that would be VERY UNHEALTHY for him... mess with the balance of his bodys systems yk? so its really not an option;^;

So yeah he still tends to overheat and thats why having his room canoncially set to actual arctic temperatures every night helps him sleep better and feel better

Usually alot of octonauts missions happen under water or in gups or maybe they'll spend some time on an island and it'll be hot

But with extended time spent in warmer climates he has to take alot more breaks and it can be alot harder for him

Also I think that he had a period in his early 20s college years where he was like kinda lowkey depressed because he was learning more about global warming and capitalism

, it didn't last too long fortunately because yk he met professor inkling who was already developing his idea for the octonauts

and they actuslly became really good friends and it really came together as a realistic thing when tweak got wind of em

On a more depressing note global warming for polar bears in a world where they're actual people with a unique culture and heritage means some totally different stuff

Like its not even the fact they can't even engage in their own cultural traditions (cough traveling in that one arctic global warming special where they were all exhausted cuz all the melted sea ice cough)

Its also the loss of genuine homes (in my au they're kinda like ice hobbit houses 🥰since polar bears irl will dig out shallow resting spots or mama bears will have dens with a toasty 30 degrees farenheit), architectural collapses, traditional jobs that can only be done in the arctic being lost, and being forced into more southern grounds because more and more just can't rely living there anymore

And I think that'd be super depressing to see in real time, its a cultural death

Heck even irl there's so many grizzlies going north and polar going south that they've actually started to mix and start having hybrids (grolar bears). And the thing is they're so genetically compatible that their species can actually develope into their own separate identity that might totally replace most if not all polar bears sense they're just more adapt to the changing climate and have more range,with benefits from both species

And while that sounds great on paper and makes sense and is obviously fine for them to have easier lives, I think in thr context of this world it would leave barnacles with some conflicted feelings

Because the thing is there used to be concerns about polar bears having to leave their homes to live is societies and communities that just... that their jobs wouldn't fit to. That would be physically harder for them to be healthy in. That they'd have to give up so many thousands of years of traditions thatd be impossible to carry over in.

Idk its late and I've got one braincell and idk if this makes sense and im sorry if it got depressing 😭

But yeah, so there's more and more of these younger people grolar bears, that just... will never have that full connection to their heritage. And idk I think its sad and maybe I'm projecting

Also I think that if barnacles was ever sad he'd just cope by playing the accordian lol,like the one meme of the girl playing "its a mental breakdown ✨" on a kazoo 😭

Let's end this on a happier note tho, circling back to barnacles being several feet taller than his entire crew, like-

We all already know this guy emotionally adopts every living being in sight

And well, his ENTIRE CREW literally, and I mean very literally and physically, looks up to him-

Like they all gotta turn their heads up and loon at him with big hopeful eyes ready for whatever he has to say

And im gonna be honest his composure is alot stronger than mine cux I would CRY because of how adorable that is

Like he knows its probably so unprofessional and might be seen as condescending BUT DAMN IT HE CANT HELP THR CUTENESS AGRESSION!!! HE WANTS TO SQUISH THEIR TINY FACES!!!

so sometimes hell have a very Serious and Leadership-like Captain Conversation, and then thr SECOND hes out of their sight (and hopefully hearing) HE JUST HAS TO STOP HIMSELF FROM JUST CRYING-

Cuz the second hes out of sight he will LOSE ALL COMPOSURE and need a minute because he loves them so much AND THEYRE SO FCKING SMALL-

Its kinda funny tho cuz ur captain barnacles is a pretty tiny guy, wonder howd that work for u XD

Anyways gn or whatever time it is for u 🐻‍❄️✨✨✨

Also he and Bianca call at least every week for an hour and frequently send eachother updates about what they're up to

He could talk to her about anything and she's good at talking sense into him

He makes sure that natquick gets plenty of social interaction too, that man is like his father figure

(Kinda sad but I headcanon barnacles dad died when he was really young cuz of an accident where ice collapsed, probably did not help how he felt when he got stuck in an icy hole as a kid 💀🙏)

ALSO

Barnacles looking up at u vvv

Barnaclea being his lil theater kid self^

Wait~ they don't love you ✨like I love you ✨🥰

Barnacles half awake at a late night mission when everything is done and they're just driving the gup a back home

Barnacles and Bianca on a video call

[xetlynn]

Arcane imagines- Claggor

Old Friends, pt. two

[arcane] [main page]

Part two to [this]

You felt as if your body was buzzing all over. Almost as if it was rejecting whatever was happening currently. You were experiencing and seeing things you’ve never thought was possible. But even during everything you were still on the lookout for your little brother.

Panicking and crying out his name, throat tickling by the straining being done to your vocal chords. Fear filled your entire being. Until finally it all comes to a halting stop and your torso shoots up from a lying position. Gasping for air as if you had been underwater for a long period of time.

Your hand flung to your chest, clenching- almost clawing at it as your heart beats quickly. Once your vision unblurs you’re scanning the area. Taking in the scenery. “Ekko?” Your voice was feeble, small but not hoarse like you were expecting it to be. It was gentle. More than normal. Shakily getting up from a rather large mattress.

“Ekko?” A whisper this time. Of course there wasn’t a response in return but still you searched around the room as if he was hiding. Reminding you back to when Powder and him were young, forcing you to search for them. Only this time you weren’t positively sure he was to be found. “Oh, you’re finally up!” A deep but oddly familiar voice speaks.

You jump, grabbing onto a candle holder and pointing it over to whoever just scared the shit out of you. Threatening them with the metal stick, glared and panicked eyes staring at the figure in the doorway. Steps get closer, unsheathing the person. “You gonna hit me with a candle holder, sweetheart?” He comes into view and instantaneously you feel your heart drop along with the metal that clanged against the wooden floor.

Without even thinking your body moved on its own, running over to him and pushing yourself onto him. Arms flinging around him. “Claggor?” Tears built in your eyes as you cling onto him for dear life. He grunts against your tight grip, hugging you back nonetheless. “You okay? Have another one of those weird nightmares?”

His colossal size hand rubs up and down the small of your back. You whimper in response, not able to speak. He stays silent though, figuring you need to just hold onto him. But once he hears that little sniffle and his shoulder beginning to wet he attempts to pull you back.

The strength of your hold doesn’t let him though. “You were dead.” You hiccup. And Claggor believes he understands. “That type of dream, hm?” He takes your arms, forcing you to let him go and he makes you look at him in the face. “I’m here, mkay? I’m not going anywhere for a long time.” He assures you.

You take in his features. How strong his jawline is and the fact that he’s not wearing his goggles. This isn’t YOUR Claggor. He’s Claggor, somehow. But it can’t be the same one from all those years ago. You examine him, eyes wandering all over his face. “You- you’re so pretty.” You murmur, your small hands compared to his grab onto his face on either side.

Turning his head side to side. He smiles at your antics, letting you do whatever you please. “I’m pretty?” He repeats and you hum out a tiny “yes.” He chuckles, you were practically on your tiptoes as you do this. He’s incredibly tall. Almost a giant compared to you. “You had quite a glow up.” You comment, hands now trailing downward to his arms, squeezing his biceps.

This time earning a full on laugh from the man. You pause momentarily to glance over at his face. A twitch of your lips going upward, it’s been so long since you’ve heard that laugh. “Very large…” You say mainly to yourself but he hears. “You’re silly, but as much as I hate to cut this short, you need to go get ready. We have to go meet Pow and the others at The Last Drop.” He pecks your forehead before standing up straight.

You furrow your eyebrows at the name of the bar you haven’t heard in what felt like forever. “I’ll go make us some coffee while you get yourself dressed.” He tells you before leaving the room and shutting the door behind himself. You stand there idly, not knowing exactly what drawer is yours. Or even what’s happening at this moment.

You head to the first dresser in the room that's about a foot shorter than yourself. Where multiple picture frames sit, pictures of you and Claggor wearing nice, neat clothing. Smiling happily and holding onto one another. Another picture beside that one where you sit atop his lap in a white lace dress.

You look down at your left hand that adores a single silver band. “Married?” You gawk at the simple but beautiful wedding band before looking back up at the pictures. Multiple group photos with Powder, Mylo and Ekko. No Violet?

There’s even one with Silco? What the hell is this universe?

You snap out of it, remembering that he had said you have to be somewhere. You try to think where you’d put clothing. The third drawer? Pulling it open and luckily on the first try you were right. You take out a pair of pants and a regular shirt. Not knowing exactly what to put on.

You turn around and spot a mirror nailed onto the wall. Your face scrunches, not recognizing who you’re looking at. Stepping closer to it. Your hand touches your weirdly unscarred face. Eyebags gone and you look… healthy? Your skin seemed to be less pale. Were you taller?

A few knocks are heard at the door and you snap your head over. It creaks open just slightly. “You okay in here? Taking a bit longer than normal.” He snickers, coming in and placing down a mug filled with roasted goodness. “Oh, sorry. Just a bit out of it.” You smile, crinkling your eyes. He takes a sip of his own mug, waving you off.

“You’re fine sweetheart, some dreams mess you up.” He shrugs and as he stays standing there the two of you just stare at one another. “You gonna change?” He asks, pressing his lips into a thin line. “With you in here?” You defensively question.

“Sweetheart? I’ve seen you naked plenty of times. What’s different now?” He raises a brow and your face grows warm. How stupid of you, in this universe the two of you are married. “R-right. Um, can you close your eyes? I’m feeling a little… self conscious this morning.” You lie and his face softens but does as asked. Closing his eyes for you.

You let out a sigh of relief. Roughly taking off your pajamas before shuffling on clean ones. “Okay, done!” You huff out, carrying the dirty pajamas in one of your hands. “Awesome.” He comes over to you, grabbing the laundry from you.

•••

As you’re walking through Zaun you’re amazed by how bright and happy looking everything is. Instead of the darkness and fight people went through back home. Your home.

Your hand fit nicely in your husbands as you enter the bar. The energy was different from when you were a teenager. Sneaking into the bar to see what was happening. “Hey lovebirds!” A voice booms and you feel like you were going to cry already. “Vander!” You smile, letting go of Claggor’s hand.

“How are you doing, [Name]?” He asks whilst making a drink and you beam. “I’m good, rough morning but nonetheless good. How are you?” You sit down at the bar. To him you were acting as if you hadn’t seen one another in months when in reality it had only been a few days. For you, it had been what felt like an eternity.

“I’m alright,” He chuckles, peering back to your husband who shrugs his shoulders, his hand going to your hip and laying there. An action that causes you to tense up, gazing up at him. Relaxing and smiling at him. He does the same in return. “Is uh… Is Benzo around?” You anxiously ask, hoping that he’s not dead in this universe as well.

“Ye-” “Am I around? Acting like I’ve died since the last time you’ve seen me!” Your face drops and you spin around, almost falling off as you do so. Jumping off the chair to pull him into a hug.

“Oof! Woah there!” He pats your back, letting out a small laugh while doing so. “You and your brother sure are acting weird today.” He comments and you let him go, gripping onto his shoulders. “Where’s Ekko?” You spit out.

•••

And now you’re with him, standing where your home would be in your guys’ universe. Empty, showing no signs of life. “I can’t believe you said that to her.” You grimace and he nudges you. “It wasn’t on purpose.” He defends himself, causing you to laugh. “I know but you do not have a way with words. Like at all.” You bare your teeth.

“And you’re married in this universe. That’s crazy.” He changes the subject to which you roll your eyes. Looking down at the ring on your finger. Fidgeting with it with your thumb. “Yeah…” You trail off.

“Is it weird? For you?” He asks and you tilt your head. “All of this is weird, Ekko.”

“No I know, I just. Powder or Jinx whatever is still alive. I never truly experienced her actual death. You experienced Claggors. And to see him alive? How does it feel?”

You stay quiet momentarily, chewing at your bottom lip as you truly think about what he’s asking. “It’s strange. Hearing his voice- a deeper version at that. Seeing what he would’ve grown into. What we would’ve grown into.” You blink away tears harshly. “That this is never possible where we come from. That the last time I ever saw him was dead against a wall with Mylo on the other side of me. Somehow I lived.” You avert his gaze that focused on you as you spoke.

“I- I hate this as it’s a reminder that this isn’t mine. But I love it, selfishly because I can have him here. I can love him here, proudly and loudly. Not having to grip onto a pair of goggles whenever I want to see him. I can just go… see him.” You overly explain to him as a singular tear falls down your left eye.

“You don’t plan on leaving with Heimerdinger and I, do you?” He quietly asks and you look up at him. “I couldn’t do that to you.” You answer him truthfully.

“But if I told you I think you should stay. Would you?” The both of you sit down against the large wall. Your silence was an answer within its own but he repeats himself. “Are you telling me I should stay?”

“I think you deserve to be selfish for once.” He wraps an arm around your shoulder and you lean into him. “I’ll think about it.” You rasp, closing your eyes.

[haruriin]

VALENTINE EVE'S NIGHTMARE ♡ * ˖ ࣪ — CH. O1

★ synopsis: every teenage girl has her own struggles, so naturally, you found a way to escape yours! though you never thought you would bump into a pretty boy who had the same habit as you...oh, he's actually in the same school as you? and you two share the same taste in movies too...? wow, lucky you!

*✧·˚ cw. rin itoshi x f!reader, this is a smau & written fic! reader has family issues, so does rin, reader is 16, reader is a smoker, this is angst for like 2 chapters the rest is pure crack/fluff trust, language.

after making sure you're carrying your headphones, keys, and —just in case— some spare coins inside your jacket pocket, you finally zip it up and carefully exit your room, opting to carry the few cat food cans that had been hiding under your bed in your hands, since carrying a bag for such a short trip would be a hassle anyways.

except the soft music blaring through your headphones and into your ears, the streets are mostly quiet except for the occasional sound of a car driving through the road every now and then. your neighborhood is relatively safe, so you haven't ever really worried much about going out alone, still, you make sure to be as close as possible to your home (even if being away is what you want the most) whenever you do.

when you get to the small park right next to the convenience store, there you see him, in all of his glory: mr. chonkers rolling around on his back without a care in the world. truly, you started sneaking out of your house late at night just to be able to breathe when your house got way too suffocating to do so, meeting the calico cat was pure coincidence, but he gave you an excuse to not make the people around you worry about your escapades, and honestly, you loved the (massive) little ball of fur, it kept you company when your mom wasn't there when you needed her, and when all your brother seemed to feel toward you was indifference.

"i could hear the mighty rumbles of your stomach from miles away" you kneel down in front of the cat, opening the cans of food and gently petting his fur while he gobbles them down.

you are lost in your thoughts, hugging your knees absentmindedly and resting your head against them when the soft breeze of the spring night envelops you, feeling at ease until you realize someone's very tall unmoving shadow looming over you...

"oh!" you gasp bringing your hand to your chest, your heart is beating faster than it ever has, thinking you were about to get robbed or something similar (at least you won't let anything bad happen to mr. chonkers!) and when you turn around, your heart beats twice as fast for an entirely different reason

there, what you think must be the most beautiful man you've ever seen, is standing with his hands inside the pockets of his hoodie, intently looking at...mr chonkers? as if you weren't even there.

"hm, that's why he was getting so fat huh" the stranger mutters under his breath while you try to pull yourself out of the trance that his beautifully long lashes have you in.

"um...is mr. chonkers yours?"

"mr. what..?" he seems to finally acknowledge your presence, turning to look at you with one eyebrow raised and a puzzled look on his face, you suddenly feel extremely self-conscious under his scrutinizing gaze...and you just embarrassed yourself too! truly, you didn't think the cat would have an owner, so you just went ahead and named him mr. chonk-

"it's not mine." the boy's voice brings you out of your mental rant "i just feed him sometimes."

oh...that certainly explains why mr. chonkers is so...chunky.

you stare at your feet for a bit, thinking about what your next move should be, you've been coming here almost every night ever since you moved here but it's your first time seeing this guy, maybe he's new here? shouldn't you ask for his number or something? you really should...he's so pretty too! okay, you definitely can do this!

"hey, since you've been feeding mr. chonkers too, we could take turns, can you give me your-" you stopped when you finally turned around to look at him, only to find that he wasn't there anymore! curse you, he probably just left thinking you were weird as hell while you were mentally preparing to ask for his number...

sigh. you kneel down again "you could've at least let me know you had someone else feeding you too, y'know?"

"meow?" you giggle when the cat starts rolling around happily in front of you, and you bend down some more to sratch on his tummy and chin before standing up and making your way back home.

you light up a cigarette and bring it to your lips while walking back to the house, deciding to take the longer way so you could take in the scenery while listening to your music.

even though your mind was flooded with images of the pretty stranger and the way you embarrassed yourself in front of him, so you couldn't really focus on anything else...

⟡ * ˖ ࣪ m.list ⟡ *˖ ࣪ profiles ⟡ * ˖ ࣪ taglist: @x3nafix @taefanclub @lukapurin (ask 2 be added!)

a/n: finally got the courage to start posting fics again LMAO im so excited ab this one...hopefully i can post ch. 2 tomorrow🤞🏻

© haruriin 2025.

[iztarshi]

One thing about 87!Donatello's occasional desire to be a normal turtle is, it's worrying, but it's not suicide adjacent the way it would be for any other Donatello.

The context in which he starts to think about it is one where they've pursued a newly mutated sumo gerbil (yes, seriously) back to the petshop where it was trying to break in so it could "go home". When the unstable mutation wears off it's happy to be shut back in its cage and Donatello thinks he recognises the petshop as the one where the turtles were originally sold.

For the gerbil being given sudden sapience isn't a gift or the beginning of its existence as a person, it's a weird and scary thing that left it adrift in a world it didn't understand and that didn't understand it. Having it wear off is a happy ending. After all, if a human was turned into a dragon and given massively expanded intelligence, a thousand year lifespan, and the power of flight and fire, but still wanted to go back to being human that would be understandable.

Donatello remembers being a turtle - his sense of his own identity doesn't start with sapience - so seeing another animal unmutate and be happy when he's unhappy with nearly but not quite fitting into the human world makes him thoughtful.

There's still a lot he does and enjoys that a turtle couldn't do! And most of the time (such as when being threatened with de-mutation by Shredder) he doesn't want to go back to being a helpless turtle. But there is that lingering feeling that he might fit into the world better (and be liked by humans better) if he was simply a turtle they could keep as a pet.

[cherrybr4t]

older bf! cheol (+18 mdni)

warnings: just me projecting my daddy issues. SMUT. unprotected sex 😭, fingering and oral (f rec), praising (f rec), daddy cheol. 🫦, creampie, sub!reader, dom!cheol

older bf!cheol who’s the most dependable man in your life. he wants you to count on him completely and he’s proven to be reliable time after time.

older bf!cheol loves taking care of you — loves babying you til the end of time. often cooks for you, buys you food all the time, his number one priority is always to make sure his baby is well fed.

older bf!cheol who’s THE epitome of: yes, i know you can, but let me (!!!!!!) knows you like to prove yourself as a strong and independent woman (which u r) but he wants to do everything for you nonetheless.

older bf!cheol who loves being your number one supporter; he’s always there for whatever important event you have going on — ALWAYS. he’s standing there tall and proud, with a fresh bouquet of your favourite flowers.

older bf!cheol who always leaves his card with you. wants to spoil you. takes pride in being able to spoil his princess rotten — you deserve the whole world and he will, in fact, do everything in his power to give you the world.

older bf!cheol who loves telling you how proud he is of you all the time. no matter what you’ve accomplished, he will be sure that you KNOW that.

he’ll have you seated prettily on his lap, while he hugs you, kisses your hands, down to your knuckles, and your fingertips — “you did so well baby, i’m so proud of you.” he would mutter while gazing at you with overflowing love, lips still puckering on your knuckles.

to say that had an effect on you would be an understatement. you melted like putty under his gaze, his gentle and subtle touches that felt like fire on your skin.

“you are?” the girl who was so desperately seeking for approval surfaced at that moment, and seungcheol is more than happy to go on about how happy he is for you — and how he is so proud of you, in awe of you.

“can i show you baby? how proud daddy is of you,”

you nod eagerly, already slipping into that light headspace, wanting nothing but to be praised by cheol, and to have him take care of you.

“words baby, have you forgotten? no words no reward,” cheol runs his index finger down your lips, pausing at your bottom lip to swipe his thumb over gently. his eyes hooded and dripping with raw lust as he observes the way you squirm on his lap.

“yes….daddy, show me…please,” your quiet whimpers and words altered his brain chemistry at that very moment. he loves you so much and wants nothing but to let you feel exactly how much he adores you.

older bf!cheol loves fucking you on every surface of the house, but right now, he wants to have you laid out on the bed bare for him. princess carries you to your shared bedroom. removes every article of clothing for you — leaving kisses at every area he exposes.

he swears his soul levitates every time he sees how gorgeous you look — especially when you’re looking up at him with those innocent eyes of yours. but he knows better than to think of you as innocent. knows you’re his dirty little angel.

knows you’re itching to have his cock in your mouth, like the obedient slut you always are to him. but tonight it’s all about you — and he’s going to make sure his pretty baby gets what she deserves.

“tell daddy what you need from him angel.” he urges you, hands rubbing across your thighs gently. “hmm?” he hums, head tilted and you’re about to cum for him right then and there.

“want to feel you daddy, your touch your mouth. want it all,” you breath out. he taps on your inner thigh and you immediately spread your legs wide open, propping them up on the bed for him.

“my smart little girl. you listen to daddy so well, don’t need me to remind you anymore hm?” cheol teases your cunt with his finger tip, running them across your wet hole — gushing out more slick every second — and he gathers the slick, rubs them all over your cunt.

“i’m daddy’s smart little girl—nngghh,” you push your hips up a little at his touch, enjoying his undivided attention on you.

“that you are, baby,” he dives down to give kitten licks and kisses around your clit, before going for the main course, flicking his tongue — playing with the growing bundle of nerves. he uses his tongue to spread your juices even more, before pushing his muscle deep inside your cunt and he moans at how warm your cunt feels.

“ohh..daddy, feels so good,” you moan out, hands reaching out to comb through his scalp before grabbing onto his locks.

cheol gets off praises as much as you do. so when he hears how much you’re enjoying him savouring your cunt, he goes harder, determined to outperform himself every time. he keeps his lips suctioned on your clit as his tongue moves ferociously around it. long fingers of his automatically making their way inside your warm cunt.

he pushes in slowly, enjoying the feeling of your textured walls swallowing him in bit by bit. groans around your clit as he realises how easily your pretty little cunt has managed to take two of his fingers.

he starts to massage those walls, eliciting a cry out of you. you tug on his hair harder as you feel him hitting your g-spot the more he pushes those thick fingers in.

“fuck daddy, take it daddy take it, pussy’s all yours,” you cry out, pleasure administered on both points making you lose control as you feel your thighs start to tremble.

“yeah baby, s’all mine. my smart little baby.”

“think you can cum for me baby? cum for your daddy hmm?” he pants as he starts to suck on your clit with urgency, wanting to feel you cum around his fingers.

“i’m right thereee daddy — gonna cum for you, gonna cum,” you cut yourself off as you feel your core start to twitch. letting out the final cry as you cum around cheol’s fingers.

“that’s it baby, so so good for me,”

cheol decides he’s too impatient and wants to pound you into the mattress right after making you cum. wants to see your pretty face as he makes you cum around his cock this time.

“gonna fuck you like you deserve now baby,” he slaps his thick cock on your sensitive cunt a few times. you jerk at the touch, too sensitive yet feeling insatiable.

he slides the tip in, and immediately groans as he gets reminded by how warm and tight your little cunt is. just like you, obedient and perfect. it sucks his cock in and refuses to let it go as he bottoms out.

“so—so big daddy. i love your cock so much,” you cry out, hands grabbing his wrists that are positioned on the sides of your head. his head hangs right above yours, lips bruised from all the lip biting he’s been doing. loves looking right into your eyes as he fucks you.

“fuck baby. you feel incredibly fucking good, can’t even describe it — ah fuck,” he feels your cunt clenching. doesn’t understand how a soaking wet cunt manages to grip onto his cock so tight.

“my little baby, so pretty under daddy. being filled with daddy’s huge cock.” he starts to move, pulls out his cock till the tip is left in you, before slamming it deep inside your cunt in an instant. the sounds you let out are pornographic to say the least, but cheol loves it. loves that he’s the only one that’ll ever make you feel this way.

“my smart smart baby, daddy’s so proud of you. you know that?” he tells you so softly as he holds onto your cheek so tenderly, yet his thrusts continue to get faster and rougher as his hips work like a machine.

you nod, only being able to let out hiccups of tears every time you open your mouth. loves when cheol is being a moving juxtaposition like this. so soft to you on the lips yet fucking you like he fucking means it.

“mm ‘course you knew that, my angel. you always make me proud. always are so so good. s’why you always deserve the best don’t you,” he pants out, moans at the way your cunt is gripping onto him for dear life each time he sends praises towards you.

“thank you daddy. thank you thank you,” you don’t know who or what is wiring your conscious mind right now as you get railed by your boyfriend. you’re stuck in that state of pleasure and cheol fogs up your entire mind, your entire being in the moment.

“the best girl. best angel. always the best for daddy, fuck. i love you baby,” cheol feels himself coming to a close. the thought of you is enough to drive him to the end point. and with your cunt pulsing around him like it’s about to explode anytime soon too, he knows he’s done for.

“daddyy, gonna make me cum again. can i — ngggh — cum again daddy,” you’re always so polite no matter when, it drives him crazy how you’re always his good girl.

“such a good girllll baby, yes you can cum fuck — cum for daddy yeah? gonna make daddy cum too,” he reaches out and in his usual fashion, draws tight figures around your clit to push you over the edge.

it works every time — and now your spasming around him as you feel your orgasm crashing and taking over your entire being. it feels catastrophic, yet heavenly as you cum around cheol’s cock.

“that’s it baby — cumming all over my cock like daddy’s good girl. good fucking girl,” he grunts out a guttural moan, and feels himself fall over as well.

lips on your neck as he spills his hot and thick load of creamy cum inside you. it spills and it spills till it starts to spill out of your cunt. you sigh happily as you feel your cunt so full with his warm load.

“best reward ever daddy,”

older bf!cheol starts to kiss you all over, telling you how good you did for him. he cleans you up, prepares your favourite ramen in minutes after helping you wash up.

older bf!cheol who always looks forward to this part of the day — where he gets to unwind with you, and talk about each other’s days.

need cheol so bad. need him to fix me. hah! anyways! i hope this was okay <3 feel free to comment or rb w/ any feedback if you liked it!! 🍒 muah love u guys ❤️‍🩹

perm taglist 🖤: @gyuguys @black-swan-blog27 @do-you-remember-summer-127 @mrsjohnnysuh

[gay-dorito-dust]

Can’t stop thinking the tall horror men of homicipher. I’m like 5ft something, so I know damn well these men tower over me…am I discovering something? Maybe 👀👀👀but I know I ain’t alone. TRUE STORY: Also there was this guy that came into my place of work moths ago with his family and he was TALL, bending down to get through the doorframe TALL but he was lovely.

So how do I imagine these boy would react if they see that you’re clearly ogling them for how tall they were.

Mr crawling

Given the fact that you’ve only seen him stand once, it was enough to have your jaw dropping to the floor. He was taller than the fucking doorway that he had to manoeuvre himself under it, and suddenly you’ve forgotten that you were being kidnapped by Mr Stitch, too intrigued by his height and now understanding why he had lied to you about his ability to stand.

He thought he would scare you but in fact made you feel the complete opposite, you loved how tall he was and you couldn’t get it out of your head, even when he’s back on his hands and knees to comfort you. The illusion had worn off and now you wanted to see him tall all the time, but you didn’t want to pressure him into doing so unless he felt comfortable.

‘You’re tall, really tall.’ You said in awe as Mr crawling coddled you against his chest.

‘Scared?’ He asked as though he was fearing your answer, which broke your heart as you nuzzled your face against his shoulder in an attempt of comfort.

‘No, handsome.’ You replied as Mr Crawling made chirps and purrs of happiness as he held you closer to him.

While he’s still not fond on standing to his full height, the fear of his intimating stature would chase you away one day embedded in his heavily, he would find some comfort in knowing that you loved his tall stature and love you even more for not forcing him to do something he clearly was uncomfortable with; preferring to shower him in kisses and remind him that whether he’s standing or on his hands and knees you loved him regardless.

Mr silvair

The man can feel your eyes on his back constantly. He knows he’s taller than most but the way you looked and admired his full height like you wouldn’t be able to anymore.

He wonders whether this was something only you seemed to have or whether other humans also felt possessed by the need to gawk at people above a certain height. Or was it just you that has this particular expression upon seeing his tall stature in general.

He would take notes of how his height seemingly did something to you that then triggered a chemical reaction within your brain to make you find his height appealing and possibly a requirement in finding your perfect romantic partner.

Or more specifically people of similar height to Mr Silvair himself or anyone close enough to his height to qualify. Mr Silvair soon deduced that you liked the domineering presence of someone much bigger than you, someone who’s able to drag you wherever as though you were nothing but weightless to them, almost like a ragdoll.

He’d soon find that this is in most cases considered a kink amongst you humans who found the height difference between partner rather erotic.

Mr Scarletella

Finds your content ogling of him flattering and thinks that it means that you were finally, finally reciprocating his obsession with you for your own obsession with him.

He’s another one who takes note of how you like how tall he is in comparison to you, always looking at him whenever he was entering the room, eyes widening when you see him having to bed down to get through the doorway, and your eyes never leave him even as he’s walking towards you; seemingly getting taller with each step until he’s in front of you and you’re looking at him in awe and hitched breath.

He’s obsessed with your expression each and every time and uses his height to his advantage. Such as doing things like putting his hand above your head and on the wall, looking down at you with those obsessive eyes of his as his smile seemed to widen upon hearing your breath hitch and eyes widen once more.

His height continued to elicit a reaction out of you that Mr Scarletella loved and adored and wanted to see more of in the future.

Mr Hood

Finds your constant ogling of his height interesting.

He didn’t know why you were so surprised he’s this tall, he’s been with you this entire time and it was only recently did your mind seemed to inform you of your Incredibly stark height difference, and bam! Suddenly he’s the subject of your constant staring and ogling as though it would be the last thing you did.

It was humorous to say the least and will earn you some head pats and cheek caresses that has you leaning towards his comforting and gentle touches.

It wasn’t something that you hide from him as half of the time you didn’t realise you were doing it until Mr Hood pointed it out with curiosity, meanwhile your left flustered as your mind held certain thoughts towards his legs, thighs and large hands.

Poor Mr Hood, he understood to some extent but after a certain point it’s better to explain to him that you find his height rather appealing to you in more ways than one.

[witherby]

Continuation of the biting baby, y/n as a toddler somehow developed the habit of headbutting people in the gut but not bruce. He still gets bit but aye, he's not alone anymore lmao

(Baby has to be put in air jail almost everyday buy the moment they're out they headbutt the person who placed them in air jail as hard as possible)

(Also just in case people doesn't know what air jail is,u just hold the baby/animal In the air with ur hand)

A pattern is forming. I think you all want Mouse to be a violent baby.

Including me, so —

The Littlest Wayne: Air Jail

"AHH! SHI-AHhhghh sugarhoneyicetea..."

Bruce lifts his eyes from his newspaper and looks at the couch, waiting for the inevitable. Like clockwork a pair of hands shoot into the air, with you as prisoner, and you start complaining and windmilling your limbs. The hands holding you are encased in leather; Jason must have been the victim then.

"Mousey, I'm workin' with two broken ribs and a concussion," the man complains, jostling you for emphasis. You squeal, giggling. "You cannot keep running into me with that thick little noggin at full speed. I felt a third rib crack upon impact. You're killing me. You're killing your brother. I'm gonna die again."

"Wanna!" You insist, back to windmilling. "Down! Jay-Jay, down!"

"No down. You get Air Jail 'till you say sorry and promise not to headbutt me again."

"I sowwy..." You whine, jutting your bottom lip out for emphasis. "Down, p'ease."

"Jesus Christ, the puppy dog eyes are lethal. I — ugh. You gotta say you won't headbutt me anymore. No more headbutt, okay?"

Your eyes start to water. Bruce watches you sink back down, vanishing behind the back of the couch, and snorts into his paper. He lets out a full laugh when Jason cries out a minute later. You've struck again.

"WE HAD A DEAL. Get over here, you're going back to Air Jail."

You shriek with delight, toddling away as fast as your chubby legs will allow. Jason, as injured as he is, actually can't catch up to you before you spot your dad and make the motion for Uppies.

"Daddy!" You cry. Bruce sets the paper aside and scoops you up.

"Are you being naughty?" He asks. You grin and hide your face in his shoulder. "Uh oh. Maybe I'll let Jay put you back in Air Jail — OW?"

He winces and your peals of laughter ring right next to his head. You open your mouth to bite him again, but he's the one to lift you into the air this time. "Daddy! Down!"

"I'm calling the police," Bruce deadpans, dropping into the Batman Voice. "Your rampant string of crime has gone unchecked for too long. Victims are piling up left and right. You've headbutt all your brothers this week, and Uncle Hal, and Titus. How Grandpa is escaping your tyranny is a mystery, but it's time to turn you over to the law."

"No powice, daddy!"

"Yes powice, child."

Bruce stands up and carries you into the day room, lowering you down into an extra tall play pen.

"Time out for five minutes."

You pout and cross your tiny arms, glaring at the ground.

"Don't wike, daddy. Want out."

"Yeah, well Daddy doesn't like getting bitten like a cookie, and your brothers don't like taking your skull to their bodies at high speeds. We want our skin free from bruises and teeth marks."

"Ha-ha," Jason teases from the doorway, pointing at you. "Get got, criminal!"

Your pouting intensifies. You reach out to Jason and make small whining noises.

"Want out. Want Jay-Jay, p'ease! Jay-Jay!"

The smug little smirk fades from Jason quick, turning into something fond and pitying.

"....I mean...c'mon, B, they're three. Five whole minutes?"

Bruce rolls his eyes. "This is why we haven't been able to curb this behavior yet. You can't fall for big eyes and a please every time —"

You hitch a little sob, and like a wet paper bag, Bruce folds.

"Maybe I'm being a tad harsh. They're three years old..."

[jammyjen26]

Disclaimer: I remember seeing a post that was just like this and it was like a few months ago and it inspired this post.

____________________________________________

König is tall. He’s 6’10. He knows it, he’s tall and muscular, thick thighs that can crush your head while you deep throat his large cock.

König’s the type to use his height against you whenever he has the chance, finding it funny when you furrow your eyebrows and get angry at him when he raise his hand up above his head so you can’t reach your phone in his hand.

He loves it when you ask him to grab something from the cabinet, pressing his bulge against your ass and whispering filthy things and what he’s gonna do to you later that night.

He finds it hilarious when other men try to get your attention, and the moment he stands behind you and glares down at them. They all tremble and run away.

He loves to pick you up and throw you over his shoulder and smack your ass, loving the way it bounced and jiggled. He’d always have you on his lap no matter what, loves the feeling of your body pressing up against his, loves to smell your scent, and gosh he loves the way he can feel your panties quickly get wet the moment his hand touches your inner thigh.

When you guys first got together, he’d always be angry about the fact he couldn’t sleep in the bed with you due to his legs hanging off and the blanket not being able to cover the both of you. You offered to lay blankets down on the carpeted floor so you guys can sleep together but he refuses. He’ll lay down in uncomfortable positions just so he can cuddle you.

He loves you so much, the day you moved in with him he knew then and there. “I’m gonna propose to that woman..” He thinks to himself as he stared at you trying to put the Californian king bed frame together alone.

[grimmweepers]

— ☆ contents: sfw, dad!sukuna handling the morning routine with your girls while you're away, fem!reader, vague hair descriptors for your babies (mention of messy hair and braids), maybe a little ooc, 0.8k wc | masterlist

"Please do our hair, Papa!"

And just like that, their adorable cheeks and flashy grins worked their magic, turning the rare morning without you into a delightful little circus.

It was honestly a travesty, a cosmic joke of the highest order that Sukuna—a man of men, built like he was meant to father sons upon sons—had been blessed with two daughters. And not just any daughters but two miniature versions of you.

You used to get so stressed leaving him alone with them but as they grew into their little personalities, you realised it wasn’t the girls you needed to worry about—it was him.

Sukuna stood in front of the mirror, holding a comb in his hand like it was a foreign weapon, and your youngest, who was perched on a stool in front of him, frowned when she saw that after all his awkward attempts, her hair was still a wild mess.

"Mama doesn't do it like this," she said matter-of-factly. All of four years old but already an expert in hair etiquette, apparently.

He sighed, glancing at her in the mirror with a look of defeat. “Well, guess what? Mama’s not here,” he gruffed, although his mouth twitched upward in amusement, "So you’ve gotta deal with me.”

She pouted as she crossed her little arms, scrunching her nose while giving him the tiniest glare. Sukuna chuckled at the sight. She looked just like you.

“But Mama doesn’t hurt me,” accusatory eyes pierced into her father as if the tugs at her scalp were intentional.

He stopped, deadpan, like he was facing the toughest opponent of his life. “You think I’m trying to hurt you on purpose?” He pointed at the comb, “This thing’s got a mind of its own.”

Your eldest daughter, who had been lounging on the futon and flipping through a picture book, piped up with a smirk, “Mama says you need to be gentle, Papa.”

“Gentle?” he muttered under his breath. She heard him regardless and nodded back at him.

Another dramatic exhale left his lips. He started again, much slower this time, painstakingly working the brush through his daughter’s hair. “Alright, princess, by the time I’m done, you’ll look so pretty, Mama's gonna be jealous. She might even eat you.”

The youngest giggled at that, wiggling in her stool as Sukuna brushed through the last tangle without any major casualties. As he tied off the braid with a ribbon, he stepped back, standing tall with his hands on his hips, impressed with his own work. “There,” he said with more confidence than he probably should, “Nailed it.”

She gave him a sidelong glance, still skeptical but he could see the admiration she was trying to hide, “It’s… okay,” she declared her final verdict. She was acting like it wasn’t the best job though her tone said otherwise.

Meanwhile, your eldest, still on the futon, didn’t miss a beat. “Mama would’ve done it faster.”

Of course, they adore you. Everyone did. But when you weren't around, Sukuna—who could wipe out an entire army with a single swipe and set whole villages aflame—found himself outmatched by a hair comb and two pint-sized versions of the love of his life. It’s no wonder you were able to tame the girls.

But he caught your eldest sliding a thumbs up from behind her book, her way of saying—It looks good, Papa.

And he thinks maybe he’s doing alright. Although, if you were here you would’ve probably swooped in and rescued him long ago whilst being heavily amused by his struggle. Of the two of you, it wasn't difficult to figure out who was more gentle and patient. He swore you could do motherhood in your sleep and he already knew you would tease him later about this.

“You’re thinking about Mama, aren’t you?” Your eldest asked with a mischievous twinkle in her eye, catching him off guard.

“What makes you say that?” He blinked at her. That slyness? Maybe she took after him more than he'd realised.

She shrugged with all the wisdom of a seven year old who’s already figured out her father. “You always get that look on your face when you’re missing her.”

Sukuna shook his head, “Well, your Mama makes this look easy.” He went back to inspecting his youngest’s head knowing deep down it was far from the flawless work you would’ve done, “Okay, princess. You’re good to go.” She beamed at him and hopped off the stool, happily oblivious to the way the ribbon had already started slipping.

As soon as she scampered off to grab her stuffed bear, he turned his attention to his eldest again, who was quirking her eyebrow and looking every bit like you.

“Listen, kid. Don’t think you’re getting out of this,” he pointed at the stool while giving her a playful glare, “Your turn.”

a/n: holding all of your hands during these trying times. this has been sitting in my draft since august so im glad it's finally out huehue

© 2024 grimmweepers — do not repost, copy, translate, modify my work on any platform

dividers by @/adornedwithlight

[k0mmari]

Endless Abyss(kinda)! SY AU

First things first, this is very much inspired by this post by @/rainbowsmagicandshit and @/allpiesforourown, HIGHLY recommend reading that fist just to get a glimpse of where I started off, but do note I have accidentally deviated from the original idea a bit, so uh, oops ig.

This was born out of a mix of different ideas (as usual), so think of this as ‘The AU where SY is a demon, and also the Endless Abyss, and also my excuse to have Binghe possibly make a harem consisting entirely of SY’s’, or, as I like to call it:

As per usual, Shen Yuan has died. It happens to the best of us, and of course, he died while reading the glittering piece of trash that is Proud Immortal Demon Way.But, as he is in the process of getting snatched away by the System, something goes wrong, and the System has to quickly redirect itself and it causes SY to get knocked out of course.

His soul scrambles to find a new host, and it manages to find someone suitable enough. When SY wakes up though, he isn’t greeted by the sight of a roof, or a forest, or anything remotely familiar; instead, the moment he regains consciousness, he’s senses are flooded with as much information as possible. It’s like a computer with too many tabs open, but in this case, you can see all the tabs at the same time and all of them are playing the most obnoxiously loud videos possible, in fact, everything feels so overwhelming even thinking becomes too much.

What SY doesn’t know is that he has transmigrated into the body of a Titan, an almost extinct godly demon race that only existed in the confines of Airplane’s first drafts, and it turns out shoving a human soul into the body of a deity doesn’t bode so well, since what the human mind is able to process doesn’t even come close to what a Titan is able to feel. So because SY can’t get a hold of his own mind, his control of his own body is also not great, and he is completely unaware as his newly acquired body goes on a rampage.

See, SY is currently in a very old version of the Demon Realm, so old in fact, Heavenly Demons still rule over the Realm. It really is quite a shame that SY wasn’t in his right mind at the time, and instead of being able to observe how ancient Heavenly Demons governed demonic society, he instead accidentally set on a path of destruction, with the casualties being anything that had the bad luck of standing in his way. In fact, the destruction got so bad a few of the Heavenly Demons rulers, who notoriously hated each other, settles on a temporary peace agreement and joined forces to stop the mad Titan.

SY, in his frenzied state, didn’t even notice as hundreds of years went by as the Heavenly Demons tried to stop him, and also barely noticed when they finally managed to chain him down and cast him away to be forever banished to the Endless Abyss. His body, once so tall it grazed the clouds, was torn apart, with each of its different parts sealed away in various locations as an attempt to diminish the Titan’s power. It worked, actually, and unbeknownst to the demons, SY slowly began to get his thoughts in order; the event that finally pushed him to coherency was when a few of those Heavenly Demon rulers got greedy, and while sealing away SY’s body parts, attempted to harness his power for themselves, and tried to create legendary weapons out of his flesh and bone.

Most of them failed, a Titan’s power to overwhelming for even a Heavenly Demon to handle, but one of them succeeded, and created a powerful sword made from the Titan’s own heart: Xin Mo. Unfortunately for the creator of Xin Mo, it didn’t take long for them to fall into madness and eventually succumb to Xin Mo’s power, casting themselves away to hold onto the sword forever in the same valley SY’s hands were sealed; but it is as they say, one man’s trash is another man’s treasure, and while Xin MO’s creator perished, they managed to take enough power away from SY for him to finally be able to think.

It had been a thousand years at this point, and SY’s first coherent thought was that he desperately needed a break, and that in all these years, he hadn’t managed to get a single glimpse into the world of PIDW, and what a waste! Specially since he was now in the most interesting area Airplane had managed to create, he was itching to explore the world. Of course, in his current state he wasn’t exactly able to move (having his limbs cut off certainly didn’t help, but apparently it had been so long since he was imprisoned that his Main Body had started to fuse with the Abyss? Really, more of a slight inconvenience than anything), but he also had become tired of his Titan body with it’s Titan feelings, and so he decided to split his consciousness and create a small army of human sized avatars who were later dubbed his ‘Watchers’, who’s sole purpose was to explore the Endless Abyss and send their findings back to the Main Body (in bite sized, easy to understand thoughts).

It is the first years of his Watchers wandering about that SY finally understood what had happened to his body, and figured out that Xin Mo was a product of his flesh. He figured that since demons tried to use his body for malicious purposes before, with one even succeeding, he decided that one Xin Mo was enough, and came up with a plan: He was going to piece his Titan body back together as a means to prevent anything of the sort happening again, but he was immediately going to seal the Titan body away again, as to not have to deal with it’s overwhelming power.

As the Watchers were sent to locate his body parts again, one of their first findings were the hands, which also meant the resting place of Xin Mo itself. How lucky, he thought! He could just take the hands away and maybe leave one of the Watchers guarding Xin Mo so when Luo Binghe eventually comes to retrieve his sword, SY at least can catch a glimpse of his favorite protagonist! He wasted no time, and while his avatars tried to unseal his hands, one of them went to move Xin Mo, just so it was out of the way, and in doing so the sword retaliated and ended up disintegrating the poor Watcher. What a rude sword, going against its own body.

Fine! If Xin Mo was going to be difficult so be it, and SY formed a new plan: before reuniting his Titan body back together, SY send his Watchers to keep an eye on as much of the Endless Abyss as possible and the moment Luo Binghe fell in, he would turn to hugging the protagonist’s thigh and help him survive the harsh environment as long as Binghe took Xin Mo. Well, it should be no problem, right? Binghe was fated to get the sword one way or another, and SY is sure his involvement will be small insignificant enough that it won’t be much more of a side quest for the future Demon Emperor!

Now, if he were a half human, half Heavenly Demon teenager who just got pushed into hell by his teacher, where would he land….

*

So, as you can see, this is mostly more like SY’s origin story lol, but I’ll probably write Binghe’s first meetings with the Watchers sometime soon (hopefully).In the meantime though, enjoy some more of the bonus sketches I did while figuring out the AU, and of course, if anyone has any questions or thoughts about this, feel free to send them to me!

[kmuradesu]

.‘ENTITLED’.

husband!gojo x pregnantwife!reader (afab)

» summary: leaving the busy streets of Sendai city back to its outskirts, the two of you got a bus. there aren’t any seats available, and being pregnant meant being able to sit in the priority seats. looks like they’re taken.

» CW: pregnancy, exhaustion, mentions of jizz, bus ride, stubborn civilian, teeny-weeny angst if you squint, protective satoru, threats, all happy, no swears, not proofread!

» a/n: this has been sat incomplete in my drafts for a month, only until now I’ve motivated myself to finish it (lmao). I don’t know what it is, but I love pregnancy fics with jjk.

———————————————————————

After a slow-paced stroll through the bustling streets of Sendai City and a bunch of offers from Gojo telling you he’ll buy whatever you want, the lingering sense of exhaustion finally caught up with you.

You had managed to make it an hour and a half.

The beads of salty sweat were becoming more prominent over your glossed skin, your breath being lost easily but being hard to get back. The overly frequent back aches weren’t helping either, it was like this baby was already overweight inside of you.

You couldn’t help but feel embarrassed as your soft, now clammy, hand weaved with Gojo’s, the wedding bands glinting a perfect chrome against the sun’s humid rays. You didn’t want to become a burden, neither a random woman in the city known for sweating abnormal amounts of sweat. “I think the baby’s had enough, huh sweets?”

Your loose gaze lifted upwards to meet his, immediately feeling the cool radiating from his cerulean eyes. Strangely, through the navy lenses in his shades.

“..yeah, me too.” You breathed.

“Okayyy, let’s get the bus back - save you walking around with that watermelon inside you.” Purposefully, Satoru presented you and your bump a judgy look.

“..thanks.”

Rolling your peepers with sarcasm, you gently swung your hand with his back and forth.

“Hey, that’s what it looks like to me!”

“Well it’s your sperm, blame your own genes on the fact it’s fat!”

“WHAT?! FAT?! I’M NOT FAT. I’M A TALL SKINNY KING! AND SO WILL BE MY BABIES!” The man was very much offended, that open-mouth and crossed brow face he pulled was all you needed to know.

“..oh REALLY? WELLI KNOW FOR A FACT ITS NOT MY GENES CAUSING IT!”

And all the way to the bus station you continued on with your quarrel on who’s genes caused your bump to be so big already.

Both you were just kids in adult bodies.

——

After earning an unusual load of overcritical glances from passers-by, you finally reached the bus station where many people stood.

Looking around with concern, your brows gently furrowed, a little confusion clouding your mind. It was good that Satoru could read you like a book.. sometimes.

“It’s okay, they’ll let us go past.”

The white-haired man muttered into your ear, placing his hands on your clothed shoulders.

“What if they don’t?”

“Oh they will.”

The way he said those words made you feel something, like it was your hormones playing tricks on you.

And so soon enough after waiting for a couple minutes, you had a glimpse of the scheduled bus turning around the corner.

“C’mon then.”

Placing a hand on the flat of your bump you both moved forwards, attempting to shift to the front.

“Satoru, I—”

“Just go baby, they’ll move for a pregnant queen like you.” He reassured, eyeing the men who weren’t moving out the way at first. Like they should, the women knew to make way, all flashing you sweetened smiles as you passed them.

Eventually you had gotten to the front with a man standing in the lead. “See?” Gojo smirked, watching you tilt your head back to see his beautiful face.

“M’kay..”

——

The doors of the vehicle swung open with a but too much vigour it almost took out the poor man standing next to them.

After Gojo, being the most pampering partner ever, paid for the tickets, he ushered you forwards only to discern no available seats. Gojo would be more than happy to stand, but it was you he worried about since you were already breathless and weak to stand.

The priority was stocked up with disabled and the impaired too apart from one space.

However that man who clearly perceived you were carrying a baby, sat in the seat in front of your face - glancing at you as he did so.

How selfish. Is he not embarrassed?

“There’s no seats left Gojo, I can’t stand anymore.”

Subtly you whined, being a little irritated that you couldn’t sit down and would have to uncomfortably stand as his baby rearranged your organs.

“..hm. Let’s see.”

“Wait—”

He shuffled to the man.

“Heello. Excuse me, but my miss is pregnant. Would you mind sparing the seat?” Gojo politely asked, hanging on to the pole situated in the middle of the aisle.

“What? Err no, sorry.”

That man was not sorry at all. It made you cringe.

Gojo’s expression paused, pressing his pastel lips together in irritation. Why wouldn’t this man listen?

“May I ask why are you being so difficult?”

After hearing those words, you knew this was going to veer off sideways. Almost everyone’s eyes were glued to the scene unfolding, all looking up from the windows and screen to see two men ‘bickering’ it out.

“Difficult? What do you mean, I was here first.” It seemed like the man had issues already, as he started to flail his hands around.

“My wife is pregnant, if you didn’t hear the first time. You’re sat in a priority seat, which where she should be sitting. Are you disabled?”

He was getting defensive. It was crystal clear that the man was not disabled, nor pregnant at that matter.

“..um no? But that doesn’t mean anything. I’m not giving up my seat for some cripple.”

A cripple?!

That’s it, Satoru had had enough and was desperate to split this man in half. Not a single person could insult you because he would already be on them like a hawk.

Anyways, the fact that the nasty being had called you a cripple, couldn’t help but make you feel a little too much like a burden, and your gaze saddened.

“You’ve gone too far. No-one. Absolutely no-one, is to offend my wife like that. So, jackass, vanish any place other so she can sit.”

“Or else?—”

“There is no ‘or else’ fool. You’ve already screwed the wrong person, so I suggest you move. Don’t do something stupid.”

The man, looking quite intimated, eventually got up and sulked off past the two of you.

“Thanks.” Satoru fake smiled, stalking him ‘till he had gone else where, far away from you.

All this drama had made you forgot about the achy pain surfacing your body, which immediately flowed back as realisation hit you.

“..oof-” It had subconsciously left your lips, and it made Satoru’s brows cross.

“Here you go my love. Is it hurting?”

He concernedly asked, holding your velvet hands as you lowered your rear on the much-needed seat.

“I’ll be fine, just what I needed.” You smiled back at him, tucking a stray hair behind you ear as you breathed out.

“I’m glad. Some morons just think they are ‘entitled’.”

—————— thank you for reading! this is my original idea and have worked hard on this. so please no translating, copying, posting my work on a different platform, or modifying my work. all rights reserved - kmuradesu

[barbieaemond]

And I dream of a grave

Header by the lovely @ewanmitchellcrumbs 💕💕

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x wife!reader

Warnings: angst (!), smut, too many references to graves/burying, mentions of Blood & Cheese, miscommunication, Aemond's coping mechanism is violence and sex, in this order (good for him)

Word count: 3.8k

Author's note: the gif is self explanatory. This is a prequel to A Curse for a Curse, but can be read as a standalone. Big thank you to @irenadel for giving me the idea and being one of the most supportive souls <3

Taglist: @ladystarksneedle @arcielee @multyfangirl

MASTERLIST | English is not my first language

This is more than tempting the Gods. This is forsaking and impudently turning their backs on them.

As she sits down at the banquet, her mother’s words echo through her mind like the vexing sound of the wind on a storm’s night. It sets an unpleasant weight on her lungs, the close and yet shapeless feel of something dreadful. She’s almost grateful, looking around, to ascertain she’s not the only fool dreading this whole act.

The Dowager Queen sits at the table, barely able to contain a grimace. Queen Helaena, she is certain, has never looked so pale, her eyes so vacuous and yet so full of something unknown, elusive, smoke clouding and clearing her unnatural stare. The Hand has conveniently made himself absent. She can’t blame him. Actually, she envies him. If only she too could have been spared such a farce. But as the wife of the King’s brother, the very one they’re all supposed to celebrate tonight, she cannot do that, can she?

To cheers and the blaring of trumpets, the King enters shoulder to shoulder with his brother, tall and proud in his stride, wearing dark green velvet for such a special occasion, and such a special title.

“Do you know how they’re going to call you from now on?” the Queen Mother had asked when he came back from Storm’s end, dripping rain and mud and war.

“I do, Mother.” Aegon had answered, twisting a knife from his seat at the head of the table; she had never caught that glint of satisfaction in his eyes, not like that; it wasn’t dimmed by wine or flesh, but sharp as the blade in his hand. “A title he should be proud of.”

Pride was ever the easiest thing to wear for Aemond, the softest glove gliding on his skin, born out of a pit so deep and full of insecurities and negligence that that same endless depth had grown out of proportion in order to fill itself. To even try scratching his pride was like trying to climb the highest mountain with bare hands. She had cut her palms open to do so.

“What happened, Aemond?” she had asked once alone in their chambers.

“You know what happened.”

“What really happened?”

His good eye had pierced her as if she were made of crystal, but his jaw was too set, on the verge of breaking his own teeth if he carried on keeping the guilt, and truth, trapped inside.

“I didn’t want to.” He whispered, coming down from the peak, “I didn’t want to kill him. I only wanted—”

“Revenge? Well, you had it. Did it make you feel good? Did you bring that boy peace at last?”

It took him a lifetime to say no; a whispered sound, choked even, as if he had bitten off his tongue to get it out of that pit where he had never looked again.

He was biting his tongue in the council, the faintest clench in his jaw but here, here in the council, here in the world, he had to keep that pit buried and stand straight on the highest peak, looking up and up, never down, never back. How could he, how could he admit he had lost control. It was easier, safer, to let them think of him a monster, rather than just human.

“I salute you, brother.” The King had said, raising his cup “True blood of the dragon! We shall have a feast in your honor!" Otto had merely lowered his head in defiance, going unnoticed in the eyes of his King and grandson, drunk with power and finally free of his mother's leash, unaware that a golden noose now held him in check.

He had summoned jesters, musicians, even some dancers to coddle his brother, and raise him higher and higher. She imagined she just had to wait for the fall. Or perhaps pray to the Seven to overlook the insult, to keep a mortal up there with them for a little more. But then again, they shouldn’t ask the Gods for mercy. Someone more unforgiving, more bloodthirsty. Someone who, just as her husband and his brother and each one of their cursed dynasty, did not listen to either Gods or men.

“A toast!” the King says at one point, turning to his left. “To my brother Aemond and a long overdue justice, is it not?”

Out of courtesy and duty, she grabs her cup and raises it, but as everyone at the table sips their wine, all she tastes is contempt, and the cup hits the surface untouched. But not unseen.

“Brother, wine may cloud my judgment, but it seems to me that your beloved wife does not share the sentiment of this fine evening. I wonder why.”

She holds the King’s demanding stare with a firm one, aware of Aemond looking at her even if his eye is fixed on the table. He has ignored her for the whole night, not sparing her a single glance. Because she owns the truth, doesn’t she, and it’s a knife pointed at his back.  

“May I speak my mind, your Grace?”

There’s the slightest shift in Alicent’s posture, as if she were desperately waiting for her, or anyone, to cease all of this, to say this isn’t right.

Aegon pulls a thin, lazy smile and tilts his silver head, swirling his cup. “Why, of course, Princess. My brother tells me you have a habit of doing so.”

“Did he, now?” she resists the urge to scoff; such a despicable habit for a woman in this world.

“Fret not, good sister, I’m certain he holds no grudges against you for your silver tongue.”

“Oh, I’m quite certain too, your Grace. I know for a fact that he likes it.”

A few lords can do very little to hold their snickering, Aegon himself does not hide his malicious smirk, petty at the edges. It must run in the blood.

“Careful though, you don’t want to spend too much time talking, lest you leave my poor brother without any heir! It’s been a while since you two lovebirds tied the knot, isn’t that right?”

She glances beside her, surely Aemond won’t let that slight insult pass, but he stays still and silent like a statue. She can’t quite believe what she’s witnessing. This is the same man who would call the crowned head at the table wastrel, depraved, disgrace.

So much for a disgrace, now that he fosters your pride and lies.

“I can assure you, good brother, that the talking is well outweighed by other activities that involve very few words.”

Aegon plasters a big grin on his face, yet she’s not finished. “But perhaps the Gods are sparing me the burden of bringing a child in such troubled times. A realm at war is not the best place to live in, is it not?”

“It depends on which side you’re on, Princess.”

There’s suspicion in his tone, but she just blinks at him. “My apologies, I was not aware that my loyalty to your House, and my husband’s, was to be questioned.”

“Come now. We are bound by what if not words?”

“I was under the impression that the Crown should fear his own kin more than a simple foreign girl from the West.”

At that, Helaena lets out a strange noise, something close to a wince, and silence falls all over. It is only now that Aemond undoes the stone he walled himself in and acts as he always does when he feels belittled, or worse, threatened. He shuts her out.

“I’m afraid my wife is growing tired, brother. ’Tis best for her to retire.”

She bites her tongue and turns her head. There’s no mistake in his tone, that is an order. She stares at him and he stares back, blankly, and then, just as it is expected of her, she obeys.

She goes without saying a word, aware of Aemond’s eye on her, of Aegon’s little victorious giggle. He snaps his fingers and two dancing girls flock to his brother. She knows this because she can’t resist but turning before disappearing. The girls are said to come from Lys, no less. But he’s not sparing them a single glance. His eye follows her out of the hall, and even after.

Candles almost extinguished, casting a soft glow in the bedchamber, dim but enough to make the shape of her body visible under the covers.

“I know you’re pretending to be asleep.” He says, placing his dagger and eyepatch on the nightstand.

She doesn’t bother to wait a single moment to fly her eyes open. “Was I not supposed to pretend I was tired?”

When she gets no answer, she turns to face him, finding him on his feet near the bed, undoing the buttons of his doublet. His eye is on her, though, wide, as someone ready to hunt but seeing traps everywhere.

“Did you enjoy your feast?” she asks with piqued interest. “Such a shame that I missed most of it. I was eager to watch the girls from Lys dance. How were they?”

“Enough. You should thank me for dismissing you. You were bordering on high treason.”

“Since when telling the truth is considered high treason?”

“Is that what you were going to say? The truth? To make me look like a fool in front of the whole court?”

“I was only going to say that the feast was an insult and a challenge to the Gods or any common sense. And I know that beneath all the pats on the shoulder and the endorsement on your brother’s part, you are of the same mind.” she hopes to see the barest glimpse of validation on his face, at least here, where he can leave behind his pride and admit he made a mistake. Is that what you call starting a war?

But his expression is as closed as ever, wary.

She wishes it would hurt less than it does. “Of all the people ready to betray you, how quick you are to assume I’d be the first.”

“We’re bound by words, are we not?”

“Take your brother off your mouth.” She says absentmindedly; she tries to not let it sting, but it does anyway. It is a low blow, and she knows he does not believe it. He has raised the walls, coiling like a snake, and there’s no point trying to climb and risk cracking her skull open on the ground. She will have to wait for him to come down. “Then perhaps I should consider my father’s proposal.”

She leaves the bed and grabs a letter lying open on the desk. “He wrote me this letter. That is why my mother came all the way here, apparently to see how her daughter was faring.”

Aemond eyes it with the barest twitch in his lips, then looks up into her eyes and, with a sigh, she clears her throat.

“My dearest daughter,

It is with great concern and sadness that I write you this letter.

Words have reached me about the recent events involving Storm’s End and young Prince Lucerys’ demise. My spirits are low when thinking of the fate you’re enduring. But I want you to think carefully of this: annulments are rare but possible. Even more so since you bore no heirs yet. You cannot remain married to a Kinslayer, it is the highest of sins. I only need a word from you, daughter, and I shall hastily consult with a High Septon.”

She can barely register his arm moving, only sees his hand snatching the letter out of her grip, crumpling the paper between his fingers. Nostrils flaring, eye widening, she reads insult all over his face. About time.

“Is that it, Aemond? Is that the reason you’d think I would betray you? Because I didn’t bleed on a birthing bed yet? Is that how you measure my loyalty? What of all the times I drew your bath, washed your hair, pulled the boots off your feet? What about that curtain—“ she adds, pointing to the windows “and the fact that I told the maid to keep that side always closed so the sun will not bother your eye? Do you think I did all of this because of some empty words?”

He looks as if she has just slapped him. Mistrust and bewilderment run together all over his sharp features, trying to win one another, and she waits and waits, and she begs as all the purest things must be pleaded, wordlessly.

Come down. Come down. Lay down with me. In our bed, a grave, it matters not. I'll take the shovel and do the burying.

But he stands still on his high and cursed perch, the grip on the letter loosens, his shoulders slump a little, because this, this comes so easily. Violence. It’s the other glove he wears like second skin.

“You will write to your father and tell him if I hear another word about annulments, I will have his head for treason. And as for you… you tell a living soul what you know, and you shall join the Silent Sisters. You won’t even have to vow your silence, for I shall take your sharp tongue first.”

She watches him go, standing in the middle of the room like a fool; her hands bleeding still and a plea, unheard, choking to death in her chest.

Her hands heal, stay whole for so long. She feels she cannot reach him this time, no matter how hard she tries to climb. She finds no footholds, no inlets, until she stops looking for any.

She finds she has no strength to do it anymore. They’re all dead anyway, each of them in their own way, their own burial.

The king drinks and rages and drinks and rages. Helaena rocks on herself all day long, chasing the highs and lows of her laments. Jaehaera stares at her mother with her small lips sewn, her eyes wide and the Queen Mother weeps and weeps, wondering if the little girl is watching her mother go mad with grief or yet again her twin brother’s head rolling on the ground like one of her toys.

And Aemond…she does not know where Aemond chose to bury himself. He spends the day out, trying to escape the smothering grip of the Stranger’s claws, his curse…or is it only retribution?

Sometimes he’s in the training yard, sometimes that same yard becomes theater for revenge. He kills whoever helped Blood and Cheese enter the Keep, man or woman, he doesn’t care. He tortures them, and she wants to beg him to stop, to tell him that torturing one, two, or one hundred men won’t stop guilt from torturing him.

So, he wanders restlessly, basks in small and big cruelties, until the sun sets and she’s aware, as the bed dips under his weight, that she is his own burial. He takes her at any time, in any place, be it the bed, the desk, or bent over the vanity, she cannot do anything to stop him. She doesn’t want to and yet she aches to do it. Because it’s always sudden, and harsh and hurtful when he pulls her hair, when he spares no time to stoke her desire, when he keeps her bent with her back turned and a firm hand on her neck like some kind of punishment.

It never used to be like this. It had been playful, teasing, painfully slow as if he were separating salt from water, and then fast, urgent, unraveling for two inexperienced newlyweds.

But it had never been like that. There was no joy in it. Only a duty to be fulfilled. Some twisted way to gain control, while anyone else kept slipping from his hands. Just as Vhagar slipped out of his control on that fateful night of storm.

He remembered that dark thrill pounding in his veins, the laughter gushing out of his throat like poison. He couldn’t bring himself to stop. He didn’t know whether Vhagar was fueling his fire or the other way around, perhaps both. Just a little more, he’d thought, as Arrax batted his wings frantically, desperate, mirroring his young rider, to escape the gaping jaws of the Queen of All Dragons.

That’s what he wanted. He wanted to relish in his nephew’s dread, he wanted to drink it. He wanted him alone, desperate, hopeless, just as he had been.

And then he felt it, the shift in the ancient fire pit he was riding, like a boat tipping over and there was no helm to grab onto and bring it back to land. He had sunk his own family into the bleak abyss of Daemon Targaryen’s soul.

He had come to collect, thoroughly. A son for a son, yes, but he had taken much more than Jaehaerys. He’d taken Helaena as well. Even Jaehaera.

Will she ever be able to speak again?

Will my Mother ever forgive me?

Words never spoken, stuck on his tongue and then gagged and swallowed. He cannot look down, cannot look back. He must look up and forward, like soldiers do. To the next battle, to war.

But there’s this woman. And the sight of her in his bed that makes his breath hitch and for two reasons entirely opposite to one another. The first is the most ancient one. But she’s also a thorn in his side, for she knows. She knows everything. She knows all his peaks and depths, every brick in his walls and how to dismantle them; she knows he’s strong and weak, that he’s scared and guilty and worthy of his mother’s contempt, but he cannot bear any of this in front of her.

He flees her presence during the day, only to impose himself on her for the whole night. She cannot refuse him. And he cannot have her prying and dismantling his well-crafted walls and lies, so he takes her and takes her and takes her until he works themselves up to exhaustion and she’s a rag doll in his hands. It serves the purpose, though. As long as she has his cock in her mouth, as long as he harshly pounds into her, cutting her breath from the inside, she cannot ask questions. As long as he keeps chasing his pleasure, and his rugged breaths muffle his own ears, he cannot think straight.  

He's close now and it’s the second time already. The sheets are damp beneath their bodies, his back glints with sweat, damps his forehead as he thrusts inside her one more time. They’re lying on their side, but he keeps her caged against him, his arm has slipped on the mattress and under her neck to keep her still, with her back to him. With his cheek glued to hers, he croons praises in her ear, falling mindlessly from his lips but like drops in the ocean. Once, she would redden, smile blissfully, or challenge him, to go deeper, or harder, or both, but she’s a limp thing now. A mere body panting upon being fucked by another, that’s all.

This is possession. Or a desperate attempt to. Each night, he holds her as if it’s the last time and she could slip away from him at any moment, turning her back on him. She can feel it now, in the way he’s gripping her shoulder, the way his nails dig in her skin, carving into her bones: stay with me. Please. Don’t leave. Please, don’t leave.

But it’s him keeping her away, turning her own back on him.

Don’t you know, she wishes to tell him, that I won’t, ever. I won’t. No matter how cursed you are. I won’t. I won’t.

He grabs her thigh, resting it on his hip, spreading his long fingers on her skin, spreading her legs so he can find the perfect angle and picks up the pace. She shudders with every thrust, gasping with her throat dry, feeling the long bridge of his nose sinking in her cheek, his grunts growing rougher and deeper; some strange choked sound at the back of his throat.

He comes quietly, panting shallowly against the damp fabric of her nightgown. And he stays there, claw gripping her shoulder, head sunk between her neck and collarbone, and deep to the hilt buried in her.

A tear rolls down her cheek. She doesn’t know where it comes from, who she is mourning, she can’t tell these days. Perhaps she’s mourning him, who he was, who he is now and who he is forcing himself to be. She doesn’t know where the deception lies anymore. She wishes she could push it back in, prays that it goes unnoticed, swallowed along with all the others, but she should know by now, the Gods are not in her favor anymore, if they ever had been.

“Why are you crying?”

She turns her head, and her breath hitches. The gemstone glints, yes, but she’s too struck by his eye to even notice the sapphire. There’s something raw there, bare, more than his very skin now. It’s the first time she sees that look on him, torn, heavy lidded and not by pleasure.

This is the burden of grief.

She wonders if that’s the reason he’s so keen on fucking her with her back turned, so she can’t see him. Perhaps she didn’t look hard enough. She thought he had risen too high, out of her reach, of anyone’s. She thought he would never fall, not in every sense of the word.

Hence, she’s at a loss for words, slightly pulling herself up, when he slowly comes down; he curls into himself, into her lap, resting his head there like a child. No Kinslayer, no Dragon Prince, no son, no brother. No husband. Just a human, bare in the skin and soul.

Aemond wraps his hand around her knee, gently, and then tighter and tighter, shutting his eye. He’s on land now, but the room is spinning, the whole world is spinning and he doesn’t know how to stop it. He feels he started it all, he threw a spinning top and got sucked into it. And she’s the only firm thing he can hold onto.

“Do you think I’m cursed?” he whispers, the barest flutter of his long eyelashes against his cheekbone.

But she has no answer. All she has are her hands, sliding on his naked skin, through his loose hair, gently, as if touching the thinnest glass, sealing the cracks. Her palms slice open again.  

“Aren’t we all?”

And I dream of a grave, deep and narrow, where we could clasp each other in our arms as with clamps, and I would hide my face in you and you would hide your face in me, and nobody would ever see us any more."

- The Castle, Franz Kafka.

[sistertotheknowitall]

Some guy finds Red Hood annoying.

Masterpost

All Danny wanted was one peaceful day. That was all. What does he get instead? A 6’ foot, jacked, vigilante crime lord. (Anti-hero, is that what he is? Danny wasn’t sure.) Now Danny’s not gonna say that a tall, built, hot as hell morally gray bad guy isn’t always unwelcome. It was just this one. (Unless, apparently, you’re Jazz. “Seriously?” “Look I don’t need saving but if he wants to come to my rescue, who am I to complain.”) They have gotten into many fights since Danny first moved to Gotham. ( He had chosen to live in a crime alley despite being able to afford slightly better. The money from his college fund was dumped entirely into said school and the money he earned went to bills and groceries.) Said screaming matches weren't even really fights; they were closer to the squabbles he’d get into with Jazz as an annoying way to express concern for each other. (A habit they, unfortunately, learned from their parents.) So having these types of arguments with said morally gray crime lord had Danny wondering if it was too late to cancel Jazz’s flight. (She boarded an hour ago.) He didn’t want them meeting, actually he’d like to keep her as far away as possible.

That’s why it was really inconvenient for these guys to kidnap him today. He had to get his sister from the airport and now he had to deal with Red Hood? Really? Other than Dickwing, Red Hood was the last person Danny wanted to see in a kidnapping situation. At least the others didn't make him feel like he was disappointing them. Only Jazz was allowed to make him feel the sting of disappointment at being reckless (and occasionally Sam and Tucker). Now, Danny thought he had decent common sense (“Shut up, Jazz.”), but he would gladly admit that he didn’t have Gotham common sense. He wasn’t afraid to go out at night just because the Riddler got out of Arkham. Honestly, he didn't see why he had to be afraid given any time of day. Danny was pretty sure he was basically immortal. (“Immortality is not dying and coming back as a full ghost.” “Then what would you call it, Jazz!?”) This seemed to frustrate Red Hood to no end as Danny lived in his part of the city and Danny was prone to finding trouble. (It actually seems to find him, Danny’s not actively going out and looking for it. He’s just trying to get on with his life.)

Anyway, yeah, Jazz was flying in for the weekend and somebody had kidnapped him. A perfectly normal Thursday. So, in perfectly normal Thursday fashion, Spoiler and Red Hood had swooped in while Danny was in the midst of a really intense staring contest with the kidnapper across from him. (“You know the staring is flattering when Tim does it but you make me feel icky.” The man didn't move and his hard stare barely wavered. “Alright, but I warn you I’m really good at this game.”) A flash of purple and the goon was no longer standing. Red Hood had come in guns blazing and made quick work of the other two kidnappers as Danny waited patiently to be untied. He could have phased through the chains he was hanging by but he didn't see a reason to. Just because they knew he could turn invisible didn’t mean they needed to know about everything else. (“That’s gaslighting, Danny.” “Technically, Sam, I think it’s lying by omission.” “Tucker.” “Right, not helping.”)

“Sooo,” Spoiler sang once Danny was free. “Who’s Tim?” You know what? Maybe it was Spoiler he should have been dreading. Red Hood made his way over, “yeah, kid, you got a boyfriend you didn’t tell us about?” Mm no, he regrets being in both their presence. Danny waved their questions away as he turned in a slow circle looking for the door. He wasn't quite sure of the time, but he was positive he was late to pick up Jazz. He answered as he made his way to the unconscious body of the guy who lost the staring contest, “a friend, well, a customer - a regular really. Nice guy, cute, has a staring problem.” Danny stooped down and started digging through the guys pockets, “do either of you know where the exit is?” Thankfully the guy was the one with his phone, he didn't want to search all the kidnappers. Turning it on, Danny saw that he was late and Jazz had already caught a taxi back to his place. The text had got increasingly more panicked the longer he hadn’t responded along with an alarming number of missed calls. 

Danny shot her a quick text as he followed Spoiler out of the building. Sorry, got kidnapped, am fine now. Please don't call. Will explain later. Love ya <3 He quickly added a selfie that Spoiler photo bombed over his shoulder holding up a peace sign. 

The screen immediately lit up with a facetime call. Danny turned it off and stuffed it in his pocket. He really didn't want Jazz meeting Red Hood.

He turned to face his “saviors.” “Okay, this has been fun. Thanks for the rescue, sorry I can’t stay and talk but I am needed elsewhere.” Throwing a quick salute he started down the street. After a block and a half he stopped at the opening of an ally. “You know I hate it when you all just stalk me from the shadows, it's very Babadook of you.” Hood appeared first behind Danny, “what's Babadook?” “A gay icon,” Spoiler drops in front of Danny. “Very true,” Danny high fives her as he hears Red Hood sigh, seeming to mutter to himself, “this is going in the folder.” “Okay,” Danny says, addressing both of them, “you don't need to walk me home.” Red Hood crossed his arms, “you’d rather your ��Tom’ walk you?” Danny really really didn't want Jazz to meet Red Hood. Danny sighed, “His name is Tim and he’s just a friend and I’d rather nobody walked me home, I’m a fully capable adult.” “Capable huh? That’s what you call last week’s fiasco?” Last week’s fiasco being an incident that may or may not have involved a cult trying to sacrifice him. (He was insulted that they were trying to sacrifice him to a low level demon. He was the king of the infinite realms and they were using him to summon Craig? Really? Not that they knew any of this but still. Rude.) Spoiler placed her forearm on Danny’s shoulder to lean, as if he wasn't a few inches taller then her. “Not to mention tonight's kidnapping.” Danny shrugged her off. “And you two saved me,” he started slowly backing away into the alley behind him, “so, danger avoided.” Red Hood's hand shot out and grabbed Danny by the back of his shirt collar, “uh-uh, you're not pulling the disappearing act tonight.” Danny had indeed been intending to disappear and fly home, now he was being scuffed like a kitten. In hindsight he had pulled that move fairly often with Hood. Crossing his legs Danny refused to be set down on his feet so Red Hood dropped him. “Ow!”One peaceful day, was that too much? (Luckly, they didnt follow him into his building and just watched him enter. Unluckily, he had a worried and very annoyed older sister to face.) (“A selfie, Danny?! Really!?” “I wanted to assure you it was really me!”)

Part 7

[donutz]

Sebastian Solace accidently meeting reader

Sebastian was looking for items resulted in seeing you

— Sebastian actually doesn't do that, he just comes across them and uses it for sales

Warnings: Non human reader; Reader is 11'4, taller than Sebastian!!; Reader has a small tail, that's hidden under there clothes; Reader isn't naked, you have clothes on yay!!; You have 4 extra eyes from being mixed with a spider; Bad words, again

Here's a body reference I drew, with a mouse!! ^_^ It's not that good but i tried my best ,^^ the tiny text says spider

“Ugh, these doors are so small”.. You thought.

You had to crouch through them, every. Single. Time. Why not bust out of a window? You looked at the wide glass to your left, thinking. Yeah why not.

Jumping through it, you realized that those were really weak windows. They might as well have been just the wall if they were really that weak! You would think that they were tempered at least.

You swim and swim, occasionally stopping to peer into the rooms. Sometimes you’d even knock on the windows to look at the squiddles. The other monsters never appeared, but those ones did.

After passing through many walls and windows, you look into another room. Seeing a tall humanoid like creature just sliding through.

Wait what.

You do a double take, not expecting another one to look like you.

Slightly swaying your legs, you move towards the glass. Putting your hands on it. You can only see the backside of him, looking him up and down. Just out of interest and curiosity.

He stops searching through the drawers and turns to his side, not seeing you. He moves to the next room, and you move right with him. It seems like he’s looking for items.

He looks at the window anddd.. Flinches back, with his palm facing you right in front of his chest. You hear his mumbled yell through the glass.

You wave.

As if you didn’t just startle him.

Smiling really wide, just no teeth showing, your small tail wagging.

You hear him curse. Uhm.. You move to the side and break the window with your fist,

“Oops” You say after putting your head through the hole.

Turning your head, you were going to say hello, but he was gone! You break through the window using your whole body, and fix it up with your… Powers!

“Come back”! You shout, crawling through the doors, each time you did, you saw him.

“GET THE HELL AWAY FROM ME”!!

That wasn’t a very good first meeting, but it happened again. You saw him again. And again. And again. You know the drill by now yeah?

By the fourth time, he wasn’t phased.

Sigh, “Are you trying to get on my nerves or something”?

“How? I just want to see you”!

His face scrunches in confusion, “What”.

“I said I just wanted to see you! You’re only making yourself more mad with that temper of yours”.

His face fell monotone, ignoring you as he slithered through the doors.

You followed right behind him, or next to him. He didn’t want you behind him just in case you decided to do something dirty.

You observe him everytime he searches through the drawers, checks under them, and looks through the lockers.

While he was searching through a drawer, you asked a question.

“Why do you search for the items ‘n stuff”?

He closes the drawer, standing up. He turns around to face you.

“Why are you still here with me”?

“You didn’t answer my question”.

“You didn’t answer mine”.

You giggle, “You’re funny, Sebastian”.

He looks surprised that you even know his name, clenching his fists he yells out—

“HOW DO YOU KNOW MY NAME”?!

Now it’s your turn to look surprised. 

“From a certain shark”.

He scowls, ‘Dang it Eyefestation’.

“Anywho now that I answered yours, you answer mine”.

“You still didn’t answer my other question”.

“Then let’s take turns”.

You two stared at each other. Each stares having different meaning.

One with danger, confusion, and a small chance of fear.

The other with interest and sincerity.

One not being able to tell if it’s a mask.

The other being able to tell that One is scared.

“... Fine. It’s for my shop that I hold for the other players. Now what about you? Why are you still here with me”?

“Well it’s because I find you quite interesting really. I haven’t seen any other creature—”

‘Creature’?

“— Like you. You seem kinda on edge and I want to get to know you. Personally, I think you have a very kind heart”.

‘Kind heart? What the hell are you even saying’..

Your smile stays on your face, not once lingering. Your left hand gently grips your right wrist while both arms are behind your back. You sway side to side.

“Is your question answered Sebastian”?

“Don’t call me that”.

“Then what should I call you”?

“... Solace. Call me Solace”.

“Oh that’s a nice name. It kind of matches with your icy nature”.

Ughh. He verbally groaned. He slithered over to the next door, going through it, with you of course, following behind him.

Going through a few more doors, you ask—

“Can I see your shop”?

“Yeah fine, whatever. There’s no point since you probably don’t have any data anyways”.

“You use data as a currency? For what”?

“You ask—... Nevermind, yeah, I do. It’s so I could blackmail Urbanshade”.

He halfway turns his head to look at you, stopping.

“You’re not going to use that against me, a- are you”?

‘Shit’.

Your smile falters, realizing that he’s serious. And afraid.

“Of course not! I don’t even know what that is anyways”. You smile.

His mouth slightly opens, surprised.

“You- You’re not one of their experiments”?

“No! I was born like this! My parents were the experiments, but then I escaped”.

Sebastian didn’t say anything. How could you say that so— so happily?! A- And right in front of him too! You two just met h- how could—... How could you trust him so EASILY?!

After a bit of silence, you moved on.

“Anywayss!! I wanna see your shop! Show me”!

You walk ahead, leaving Sebastian standing there by himself baffled. Before he shakes his head and continues to move.

Eventually you two find his shop and you chill.

You see his documents on the table and question him, asking who’s documents are those. He tells you that they’re his.

“Can I buy em”?

“You got 1000 data”?

“I got my backstory”!

“... Sorry, data’s the only currency”.

“Oh man :(”

I read all of this and this seems like a quick read :(

[cameronluvr]

TENNIS COURT — rafe cameron x kook!reader

summary: you beg rafe to play some tennis with you on your private tennis court, but he gets tired of losing and fucks you right there instead.

warnings: 18+ MDNI, smut, unprotected sex, p in v, semi public sex, risky sex, pet names, just PURE smut in this one — lmk if i missed any! 𖤓

: ̗̀➛ 𝓶𝔂 𝓶𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

you stand in your backyard, fiddling with your tennis skirt before hearing the door open. you look up with a grin on your face upon seeing your boyfriend in his cute tennis outfit.

“adorable,” you giggle.

“shut up. come on,” he laughs, holding your hand as you walk down the steps of your huge yard which lead to the tennis court. your mom is a tennis player, so having a whole private court in your own backyard was awesome.

you both grab a racket each before walking to opposite sides of the court.

“you’ve played tennis before, right?” you ask, giggling as you swing your racket in your hand. you grew up playing the sport, so you were pretty good at it by now.

“of course i have” he says, getting into position, ready for you to serve the ball. “hm, okay, let’s see who’s better then, rafey” you smirk, both getting into competitive mode.

you swing the ball up into the air, hitting it with your racket, watching as it flies over to rafe’s side. he rushes to hit it, but he completely misses, making you cover your mouth to hide your laugh.

“that didn’t happen.” he says, running to catch the ball with his hand. “okay, you serve then” you chuckle. he’s so cute. he was definitely lying about having played tennis before.

he gets back into position, lining himself up before throwing the ball up and swinging his bat, this time hitting the ball. but, the ball goes the opposite direction to where he wanted it to go, landing in the sidelines.

“fuck,” he frustrated himself.

you can’t help but to laugh at him. you both continue playing, or trying to play before rafe got fed up, tossing his racket aside and walking over to you. “you sure you’ve played tennis before?” you squint with suspicion and a giggle.

“y’know, tennis isn’t really my thing.” he says, laughing it off before pulling you into a hug. you loved sharing these moments together, they were sweet, it was pure love.

“no? then what is?” you grin, looking up at him as your chin rests on his chest. “you, baby” he smirks down at you, his tall figure towering over you.

“yeah?” you smirk, biting your lip slightly. “yeah, you look so fucking sexy in those shorts i can barely think about anything else.” he tells you, reaching his hands around and down to your ass, gripping your cheeks and pulling them up, making you gasp.

“aww, is that why you were so bad at tennis?” you joke, making him separate your ass cheeks slightly which turned you on so bad, and he knew it. “rafe, don’t do that” you whine, knowing your parents were home and you couldn’t do anything.

“why not, baby? hm?” he asks, rubbing your butt to tease you more. “you know why” you whine. “n’aww. you think mommy and daddy will see you out here?” rafe giggles at you being so worried. “duh,” you raise your eyebrows sarcastically.

“my love, we can’t even see the house from here.” rafe tells you, twisting your body around to allow you to see. he points to the bushes surrounding that side of the tennis court, followed by a wall behind it. your parents surely wouldn’t be able to see, but it’s definitely still risky.

“but we’re not gonna fuck out here, silly” you roll your eyes, wishing he’d stop teasing you but you clearly don’t get his point. “says who?” he asks. “wait— really? you wanna fuck here? but— it’s so open..” you widen your eyes, looking around the yard and being able to see your neighbors houses.

“who cares? nobody will see us.” he says as if he’s certain. “how do you know?” you ask, still looking around but his hand gently grabs your face, pulling it forward to face him. “just trust me. don’t be so paranoid, i got you. it’s just me and you, gorgeous” he reassures you, smiling before dropping his hand and pulling you close again.

his hands went straight back to your ass cheeks, but this time up your skirt. “rafeee…” you whine, letting out a moan as he toys with your ass, knowing that was a weakness of yours.

“shh… let me make you feel good, baby” he whispers in your ear, leaning his head down to your neck to kiss it. you trust him, letting him feel around with your body before slipping his hand down the front of your skirt and playing with your pussy, making you moan.

after kissing and touching each other for a little, you both move over to the side of the court where there is a seating area. without hesitation, he spins you around and bends you over the seat. you giggle at his sudden movements, feeling as he slips his hand up your skirt again, only this time to move your panties to the side.

he rubs your pussy a bit, “mhm’ so wet for me” he says, making you moan a bit louder when he slips two fingers in you. your own hand covers your mouth, while the other kept you held up. “now, now, don’t make them hear you” rafe lets out a laugh as a huff through his nose, and you put your head down in embarrassment.

“mmm” you hum at the feeling of his fingers sliding in and out of you. “that’s it, baby, you like that?” he asks, smirking and loving the sound of your wet pussy. “y-yes… god” you shut your eyes and leave your mouth agape. if his fingers were enough to please you, how does his cock feel?

“you want my dick, princess? hm?” he asks, softly raising the pitch in his voice. “mhm.. please” you nod, making his smirk grow bigger though you can’t see his face.

“you wanna take me like this, from behind?” he asks, seeing you nod again. “atta’ girl” he pulls his fingers out of you, slapping your ass and making you jolt before he begins pulling his shorts down a bit, allowing his long, hard dick to spring out.

he moves more forward, rubbing his tip along your wet folds, making you let out a long hum. “i need it…” you say after he teases your pussy for a while. “you need it?” he asks. “yeah, please..” you beg.

he wastes no time to fulfil your needs. he positions himself near your entrance, slightly pushing the tip in before grabbing your hips with both hands, pulling you back whilst thrusting forward, making him instantly slam into you. you cover your mouth again, squeezing it this time. you couldn’t stay quiet, not with rafe inside of you.

“stay quiet, doll, y’don’t wanna get caught, do you?” he asks, knowing the obvious answer. “fuck… i- i can’t…” you moan underneath your hand, but it wasn’t quiet enough. rafe takes over, nudging your hand out the way to grip your mouth for you.

his grip was hard, but it was making a difference. your moans are muffled, only being able to breathe through your nose now. you grab his hand with yours, holding onto it as he fucks you rough.

the odd few sounds of cars driving past, windows slamming and dogs barking caught you off guard. “relax, doll” he tells you, shushing you as he removes his hand from your mouth to grab a fistful of your hair instead. you moan, covering your mouth with your hand again. you seriously didn’t want your parents to hear you, but boy, was rafe making it so difficult.

“fuck… i love you, pretty girl” he lets out a moan, gripping your hair tighter as he thrusts deeper into you. “i… i love you more—” you struggle to say in between deep breaths caused by his pace. “impossible.” he chuckles, showing his perfect teeth as he pounds into you from behind.

you let out some muffled moans underneath your hand, making rafe smirk and admire how he has you acting. reaching your hand down the front of your skirt to rub your clit made rafe harder than he already was. he loves it so much when you touch yourself in front of him.

“fuck, that’s it, princess… rub your pussy f’me,” he moans, thrusting into you at a perfect pace to hear your mumbled but pornographic moans. “mhmmm..” you hum, rubbing your clit at a fast speed.

he keeps fucking into you, hard and fast, both of you getting sloppier and wetter by the minute. “fuck rafe… i— i feel so close” you close your eyes, roughly gripping onto the seat you’re bent over.

“fuckk, let it go, princess” he tells you, rolling his eyes into the back of his head at how amazing you feel. “i… i am” you moan, your body starting to shake as you come on his cock. he keeps going, thrusting back and forth, in and out of you, feeling and seeing your juices leak out from the sides of his length inside you.

just seconds later, he finishes too, right inside of you. luckily, you’re on birth control. you both ride out your highs for a few moments, before he slowly pulls out of you. “fuck, ‘ts a little messy” he laughs, watching as his cum leaks out of your pussy and down your thigh.

“rafe, help” you quietly laugh, staying bent over the chair as he quickly looks for something to wipe you with. there’s nothing around, so he takes his shirt off and wipes your dripping pussy with it, “rafe, is that your shirt?” you ask, turning to look over your shoulder.

“it was the only thing i could use, alright?” he laughs it off, wiping away the cum that was dripping down your legs. after quickly cleaning yourselves up, with rafe’s shirt, unfortunately, you both head back inside to change into your normal clothes and out of your tennis ones.

walking into the house hand in hand with rafe, you walk past your mom and dad in the kitchen. “have fun playing tennis?” your mom asks with a smile as she prepares dinner. “yeah, i won” you turn around and giggle as your parents laugh, watching you flick your hair to show off. “yeah, yeah, i’ll practice more. you gotta’ teach me some time, mrs y/l/n.” he says to your mom as you both walk up the stairs. “of course, sweetheart” your mom smiles.

“aww, if only she knew how much of a slut you were… for me, not tennis.” he whispers in your ear as you get to the top of the stairs, both laughing as you enter your bedroom together.

SMUT SMUT SMUTTTTTT😩😩😩 3rd piece of work uploaded in ONE DAY? go me hahahahah. HOPE YA ENJOY I LOVE YALLLLLL <33 NOT PROOFREAD BTW. I’M IN A RUSH I GTG

@cameronluvr