#i just needed to draw this before my brain exploded

[pink-pone]

had to drop everything i was doing to make this

[pyrosomatic-metamorphosis]

"I remember holding him, and then there was a bright light, and then I felt warm."

[robotsafari]

i havent even watched legacy yet but that fucking kh world did some.. unexpected things to me

[keeps-ache]

goin to the library, library time woohoo !!

[euphoriaslux]

two’s a party.

summary: you recently transferred to stanford, and decide to tutor a tennis player in your class. he has a friend. severe indecency ensues.

word count: 3.3k

warnings : smut, threesomes, f!oral receiving, swearing, smoking, drinking. slight cuck energy if you squint (i’m sorry ((no i’m not))). no challengers spoilers!

a/n: this fic got away from me big time but this movie has rotted my brain and as a result i have written utter debauchery that i will not apologize for. just had to get this out of my head, enjoy!

-

stanford science hall. monday , march 3.

You swear the last thing you’ll hear before your body is lowered into your grave is the process of lactic acid breakdown.

It’s 2:30 PM. Kinesiology 189 with Professor Wilson, a lanky middle-aged man with a PhD in exercise science and a half-grown beard that you don’t think will ever fully grow in, is almost over. He’s teaching Extended Studies of the Human Body in a humid classroom filled with student-athletes, most of whom are trying to stay awake, trying to hide that they’re taking a nap, or making no attempt to hide that they’re on their phones. You don’t really blame any of them, because the professor’s voice is so soft and monotone that it feels like he’s begging everyone to pay attention to anything but him. You’ve managed to stay somewhat on course with the thread of today’s lecture, the notebook in front of you filled with scribbles of incomplete molecular structures and somewhat legible drawings of the muscular anatomy of a hamstring.

This class is required for your biology major since you’re on a pre-medicine track. You don’t know why you’re doing it, the whole doctor thing, but you’ve developed a weird fixation for this class. The functionality of the body, how muscles stretch and tear with each movement, and how amino acids work to build them back even bigger.

And, possibly because of the tennis player who sits four rows ahead of you every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.

His last name is Donaldson. You know because of the faded label on the massive bag he throws on the floor every time he walks into class, at least ten minutes late with a backward Stanford Tennis cap on his head. His first name remains a mystery, partly because he never talks in class, and mainly because you’ve made no attempt to speak to him. You like to think it’s because you’re so focused on the curriculum.

Professor Wilson knows your name, though, since you’re in his office hours every Thursday at 11 A.M. In part because he gives out most of the answers to his homework, and because you just transferred to Stanford your last year and very desperately need a letter of recommendation for medical school. Hence why you agreed to tutor a student with lower than 60% in the class during one of your meetings. And why everyone in the class was staring at you right now.

“... first come first serve, so reach out to her sooner rather than later.”

You give a tight-lipped smile, glancing around the room. Most people have looked away, back to their distraction of choice, but you meet eyes with the fluffy blonde-haired tennis player.

stanford library. wednesday, march fifth.

It’s 11 A.M., and you feel like your brain is about to explode if you look at another practice set.

“Hey”.

Your head whips around to the harsh whisper, only to be met with the blue-eyed mystery from your class. He has that large bag slung over his shoulder, with the end of a tennis racket peeking out of it. His hair is slightly stuck to his face, and his compression tee is slick to his chest like a second skin.

“Hi,” you whisper back. He smiles before tossing his bag on the floor and sitting in the chair across from you, either unaware of or completely ignoring the glares he’s receiving from the other students studying.

“You know,” he pulls out some kind of nutrition bar from his bag, unwrapping it and taking an aggressive bite, “for someone advertising their services, you’re pretty hard to find.”

“You’re in Mr. Wilson’s class, right?” you ask, hoping your subdued voice will remind him that he’s in a notoriously quiet place. He hums, pointing at you with his half-eaten snack.

“And I’m trying not to fail, but you didn’t leave your number anywhere in the classroom, and you bolt after every class. So how am I supposed to patronize your tutoring services…” he trails off, his volume the same level as when he walked in. You furrow your brows as he leans back into the chair.

“That’s when you say who you are.”

You feel a burn on the back of your neck as you tell him your name. He glances down towards the problem set you’ve nearly finished.

“How do you turn in any of those, I can’t get halfway through one of them.”

You pause for a moment before leaning slightly across the table to whisper:

“This new weird thing called studying. I think it just got approved by the CDC.”

“Very funny,” he shakes his head as reaches for your binder with your class schedule printed out on the front of it.

“Why are you taking so many bio classes?”

“Because I’m a biology major,” you can’t help the sarcasm dripping from your voice, and he looks at you with a raised eyebrow.

“Sorry, you’re making this too easy for me,” you raise your hands in conceit.

“I have practice every day at five so you can tutor me for like an hour beforehand,” he says before standing up, crunching up the silver wrapper and stuffing it into the front pocket of his blue jeans. You scoff at his sentence.

“Well, thank you for so generously fitting me into your schedule,” you roll your eyes, turning the page in your textbook. He grins.

“Tell the coach you’re there for Art. They’ll let you through.”

stanford tennis courts. friday, march 7th.

It’s 4 PM, and the California sun is sweltering. Your shorts feel like they’ve become a part of your legs, and your bag feels like it weighs a thousand pounds. By the time you make it to the tennis courts Art is already on the green concrete, shirtless with beads of sweat dripping down his face and chest. You hear his grunts as he sprints across the court, hitting the ball toward a slightly taller brunette with dangerously short red shorts. You watch them at the entrance for a few minutes, slightly entranced as the two play so seamlessly, as if they know every move the other person is going to make. You force your eyes away as you walk up the bleachers, stepping over leftover water bottles and chip bags to sit down and grab your notes from your backpack. It takes a couple more minutes for Art to notice you, yelling your name after he turns around to grab a ball his partner had hit particularly hard. You wave, and he says something you can’t hear to the brunette before the two of them jog across the courts and up the stands to where you are, blocking the sun as the two stand side by side.

“Who’s your friend?” you ask as you stuff the problem set you were working on in between the pages of your notebook.

“I’m Patrick,” he says, with a toothy smile and his ears poking out from under his hair. He has a bit more of a boyish charm to him than Art does, whose eyes are glued to his brunette counterpart.

“Are you in Mr. Wilson’s class too?”

Patrick opens his mouth to answer but Art speaks first, slightly pushing his friend with his shoulder as he says “He doesn’t go to Stanford, too busy being a tennis pro.”

Patrick rolls his eyes but his smile doesn’t leave his face. You notice how different this Art feels from the one in the library, how direct his playfulness is and how close he and Patrick stand together, their sweaty torsos nearly melding together.

Interesting.

“Like, Andre Agassi level pro?” you smile as the two of them laugh. Patrick raises the bottom of his shirt to wipe the sweat off of his forehead, and you can’t help but take a glance at the exposed skin just above his waistband.

“Sorry, he’s like the only tennis player I know.”

“No, no I’m taking that as a compliment that you think I’m on the level of Agassi. No takebacks if you see me play,” Patrick points at you.

“Will do,” you salute, turning over to Art.

“You ready to study?” you ask him as he makes a comically loud groan, his head falling back. Patrick laughs, reaching over to ruffle his friends hair.

“You do remember that’s why I’m here, right? Midterms are in two weeks.”

“I definitely have not forgotten that.” he says. You purse your lips just as Patrick’s eyes seem to light up.

“I’m staying at the Courtyard Hotel for the weekend. You two can come over and study, I need to review my last match anyway. Kill two birds with one stone,” Patrick suggests.

“Just studying?”

“Just studying,” Art says, wrapping his arm around his friend's shoulder. You glance between the two of them, trying to decipher the unspoken communication they seem to be doing. But you can’t crack it, so you shrug.

“Sure.”

“Let us finish this set, and then you’ll have me all to yourself. Sound fair?”

“Wow, what a privilege. Don’t take too long, it’s hell on Earth out here!” you yell the last part as Art jogs down the steps and back down towards the net. You look up once you realize that the sun is still being blocked, and Patrick is still standing in front of you.

“You ever play?” he grins, flipping the tennis racket in his hand.

“Tennis? God, no, that would not be a pretty sight. I’ll stick to what I’m good at,” you gesture to the books and notes in your lap. Patrick nods.

“If you ever want to learn, I could teach you sometime, you know if-” he’s cut off by Art yelling his name, and you both glance to see him with his hands on his hips.

“Go, don’t keep your boyfriend waiting,” you wave him off, and you swear you can see him blushing. Must have been the glare.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says over his shoulder as he runs toward Art.

courtyard hotel. saturday, march 8.

It’s 11 pm. There’s a cold shiver in the elevator as you wait to get to the fourth floor, your tennis shoes tapping against the floor as one hand plays with the handle of the pack of beer in your hand while the other crumples and re-crumples the piece of paper with the hotel room number Patrick scribbled on it.

what are you doing?

You don’t have time to think about the consequences of your actions as the robotic voice signals that you’re on the fourth floor, the elevator doors fluttering open. It’s like your feet have a mind of their own, as you find yourself almost mindlessly wandering through the hotel halls until you’re planted in front of room 4B. You raise your hand to knock on the door but before you can make contact with the wood it’s thrust open, and Patrick is standing behind it. His dark hair is slightly tousled around his face, his striped shirt unbuttoned and his black boxer briefs low on his waist. He’s smiling, that same big smile as before, but his face is a little flushed, a gentle pink hue touching his cheeks. The two of you don’t say anything for a few seconds, as if you were both testing to see who would concede first to acknowledge the other’s presence. You raise the pack of Pabst Blue Ribbon in your right hand.

“I brought studying fuel.”

You were never good at waiting.

Patrick laughs before he moves slightly out of the way to allow you to walk into his room. It’s small, with a queen-sized bed and a tiny desk, and the A/C emits an odd rumbling sound as it smacks against the window. Clothes and scorecards are strewn across the floor, and the scent of cigarettes permeates the room. You place the alcohol on the floor before deciding to sit on the bed, kicking off your shoes as you cross your legs. Patrick seems to stall for a moment, smiling to himself before closing the door behind him. He doesn’t lock the door, but you didn’t notice.

“Art’s not here yet?” you ask, watching as Patrick walks over and tears open the cardboard case, cracking open a can. Taking a sip, he leans against the desk as he smiles.

“Art can be bad with time.”

“As I’ve noticed,” you reach your hand out to motion towards the drink and Patrick hands it to you, staring as you take a large sip.

“Well,” you wipe the side of your mouth, “I told him to bring the topics he wanted to study, so I guess we can’t do anything until he gets here.”

Patrick nods with a slight pout, his fingers playing with the pop tab of the can. “I guess we can’t.”

“How’s tennis… stuff,” you laugh as you finish the question, not sure of exactly what to say.

Patrick seems to tense a little at the mention of the sport, moving over to sit next to you on the bed. His knee grazes your leg and you feel a slight buzz at the contact as he takes the beer from your hand.

“I’m kinda fucking it up right now,” he says, and you furrow your brows.

“How? You were like, really good yesterday.”

He chuckles, shaking his head slightly. He hands you the beer and you finish it off, placing the empty can at the bottom of your feet.

“I’m good with Art. It feels so fucking natural and easy with him. But in my other matches, I don’t know. I just … can’t replicate it.”

You nudge him with your leg.

“Sounds like you two were made to play tennis together.”

He makes a noise of agreement, his hands slowly moving to ghost over your thigh.

“You and Art are pretty close?” you ask as he plays with the bottom hem of your shorts, but he doesn’t say anything. You take his silence as a yes.

“Do you ever get jealous?”

“Of Art?” he asks, almost incredulously. You shrug.

“Yeah, or jealous of the girls he’s with. Either or.”

Patrick sits on that for a few moments before smirking.

“What’s mine is mine, and what’s his is mine.”

You laugh at that, a real deep laugh, and Patrick giggles next to you, the both of you tipsy from the can of beer you finished. You reach over and put your hand on his flushed face, rubbing your hand across his cheek.

“What were you doing before I came?” you feel his face warm even more against your skin as you position yourself closer to him.

“Practicing- or, sorry, rereading my scorecards from my last match.”

You tutted as you moved your hand to the back of his neck, gently running your hands through his hair.

“You can tell me the truth, Patrick.”

He turns his head to press a gentle kiss to the palm of your hand before looking up at you as if to check if that was too much. Whatever your expression is gives him the confidence to move down to your neck, his tongue licking your skin.

“I think you know.”

You feel a pull in your lower stomach at his words, muffled by his mouth nipping at the sensitive spot just below your ear, and he sucks hard enough for you to put your hand around on his face at the pressure. Pulling his face up, the two of you stare at each other for what feels like an eternity, and his eyes glance toward your lips. You wanted to wait, to make him beg and plead for it, but your body seemingly pulled you forward as your pressed your mouth onto his.

You were really quite bad at waiting.

He tastes like tobacco and faintly of the fruit medley in the dining hall, and you sigh as his lips interlock with yours and his hand grabs the back of your neck, pressing you into him. The kiss gets messy and hard, his tongue gliding over your bottom lip and into your mouth as you lift your leg to straddle Patrick, grinding into him. He whimpers into the kiss as his calloused hands drop down to the waistband of your shorts, hesitating for a moment before dropping his hand into your underwear. You grind just a little bit faster as his fingers press circles into your clit, covering your mouth with your hand as you moan.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs as he uses his other hand to guide your hips, and your move your hands down to tug firmly on his hair. You can feel your climax building, the pressure in your stomach getting closer and closer to taking you over the edge-

You both jump at the sound of the hotel room dor slamming shut. Art is standing there, in that damn backward cap and a Stanford tee shirt as he crosses his arms over his chest, saying nothing as you and Patrick sit up straight, him adjusting his crotch and you smooth down your shirt, avoiding his gaze. Finally, the silence is broken by Art laughing.

“Christ, I’m not the cops,” he slips out of his slides as he waltzes over and opens a can of beer, drinking about half of it in one go. You look at him, and at Patrick, and then back at him, not knowing what the hell you just got yourself into.

“You want to fuck him right?” Art asks, and you can’t help your small gasp at how easily he said that. You glance at Patrick, hoping he’ll know what to say, but he’s just staring at Art.

“I-um,”

“So, no one’s stopping you,” Art cuts you off, taking a final swig of his beer and moving to stand directly in front of you. You open your mouth to try and explain, but before you can talk Patrick’s mouth is on yours again, his hand roaming your body. His grip is firmer now, his fingertips digging into the side of your stomach. He tugs at the bottom of your shirt and you separate, breathless as you pull your shirt over your head and toss it on the floor. Patrick’s mouth moves down to your neck, then your collarbones, and then your chest as he reaches around to take of your bra, and you feel on fire from Art’s gaze across the room. As Patrick kisses down your stomach and yanks down your shorts, you turn over to meet Art’s eyes.

“Come here.”

Whatever resolve Art was holding onto crumbles as he quickly takes off his shirt and slips out of his Nike shorts, tossing his hat on the dresser. In a flash Art’s hands are on your neck, tilting your head around to kiss you as Patrick lifts up your hips so he can take off your underwear. Art’s lips are softer than Patrick’s but he kisses you a little bit harder, his hand cupping the base of your neck. Somehow, they both taste the same. You moan into Art’s mouth as you feel Patrick’s tongue swirl around your clit, rolling your hips into his mouth as Art’s cock presses into your back. It’s just so much so fast, and that familiar buzz starts to pool in your lower stomach.

“Look at him,” Art turns your head to Patrick and you look into his eyes as you cum, Art’s hands hold your head forward as a wave of euphoria crashes over you. Patrick’s hands are digging into your hips as he stares up at you and Art. Your chest heaves up and down as you try to catch your breath, leaning against Art as Patrick leans back up, his mouth a few inches from yours.

“Who do you want first?

[chisatowo]

Killing and maiming. I need to stop finding unit swap 25ji songs this is getting ridiculous

[incognit0slut]

Much Ado About Nothing (Act III, Scene IV: The Quiet Morning)

The tension between you and Spencer reaches a breaking point the next morning.

Part warning: (18+) breast play, fingering, and some grinding action because he can’t stop himself Words: 1.9k A/n: this might be the quietest smut I’ve ever written, but we need to keep the tension going because it’s good for the drama🤩 i also wanna say that i wrote this in between my pile of work so please excuse me if you see any mistakes or some weird description that doesn’t make any sense. my head is about to explode

SERIES MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

You woke up with an arm draped across your waist. Under normal circumstances, you would have jumped at the unexpected contact, but when the memory of last night crossed your half-conscious mind, it shouldn’t have surprised you.

Although you weren’t sure how you ended up like this. The details of the night before were a bit hazy, like fragments of a dream slipping through your fingers. You remembered the intensity, the undeniable pull that had drawn you together, but how it had led to this calm, intimate closeness was a mystery.

The gentle weight of his hand resting on your stomach was a constant reminder of the compromising position you were in. You wondered whether he was awake, or whether he was merely drifting in that blurry space between sleep and consciousness. You couldn’t help but wonder if he even realized how tightly he was holding you.

But then a subtle brush across your stomach made you tense unexpectedly. You felt his warm breath fanning across your skin, a shaky exhale that barely made a sound as it passed through his lips. There was an intake, a pointed swallow, the thick gulp of exchanged air suggesting he was, in fact, already awake.

You shifted slightly. This seemed like the right moment to address what happened last night. The quiet of the morning made it seem like an appropriate time to confront your emotions, to peel back the layers of what was quickly becoming something more real. More than just a lie

But neither of you spoke. Neither of you moved. The only sound in the room was the steady rhythm of your breathing. You lay there, waiting, your mind conjuring up various scenarios of what might happen next. You imagined him awkwardly stumbling over an apology, or worse, bolting out of the room in a rush of confusion and regret. Yet you certainly didn’t expect what came next.

He pressed a hesitant kiss at the back of your neck.

You froze, caught completely off guard. You thought of pulling away, but your body remained still, almost as if it refused to react until your brain processed the rush of emotions flooding through you. For a moment, you felt suspended in time, unable to move, to think, to breathe. But as you felt his tongue trace a warm, delicate line along the curve of your neck, you knew you couldn’t resist him any longer.

You tilted your head, giving him better access to the tender skin beneath your ear. His lips found the spot where your pulse throbbed most visibly, and he lingered there, sucking gently the whole time you squirmed in his arms.

He took your response as encouragement, letting his hand trail along your stomach before stopping at the hem of your shirt. He paused, his hand resting lightly against you as if asking for permission. A moment of hesitation fluttered through your mind, but it didn’t last too long. With a deep breath, you gave a small nod, signaling him to continue.

His palm was warm as he slipped beneath the fabric, tracing soft patterns on your skin. You tensed momentarily at the initial contact, then relaxed into his touch as he gently skimmed along, drawing invisible lines towards the soft skin where your breast met your ribcage. He paused yet again, this time as if he was waiting for any sign from you to stop. But you gave none. How could you stop when every part of your body was trembling with anticipation?

When he realized that you weren’t pulling away, his large palm covered your breast.

You let out an audible gasp.

In all the time you had known him, Spencer was the type of person who approached everything with caution and thoughtfulness, and maybe even a bit reserved. But he was a man full of curiosity, always eager to learn and explore new things, and this time, he was curious about your body.

His hand lingered there, taking in the softness of your skin before his palm molded around the curve of your breast, fingers stretching out to feel the delicate flesh beneath. The pressure was light at first, almost tentative, as if he were gauging your reaction. He then moved his thumb to trace the outline of your nipple, causing it to harden under his touch.

Your skin prickled with arousal as he continued to tease you, brushing over the sensitive peak over and over again until he was satisfied. There was a certain confidence in his movement now, as though he were familiarizing himself with your body. When you arched your back, he responded by pinching your nipple lightly between his thumb and forefinger, rolling it gently, drawing a quiet moan from you.

His own breath was hot and uneven against your neck. You pushed your hips back into him, feeling the firm pressure of his growing arousal against your body. The sensation made you crave more—no, you needed more. Before you could second guess yourself, you pulled his hand away from your breast, only to guide it further down.

His fingers followed your lead, sliding over your stomach and down towards the waistband of your shorts. You felt his breath grow shallow as he realized where you were leading him. He hesitated for a moment, but when you parted your legs for him, his hesitation dissolved. His hand slipped beneath the fabric of your shorts, and with daring boldness, he let his fingers slide under your panties as well.

The moment he made contact with your bare skin, a shiver ran through your body. He ran his fingertips along the length of your folds with genuine curiosity as if he was wondering how you managed to be this wet already. His fingers slid over your slickness, up, down, and then back up again before he found your throbbing clit. 

Your chest began to heave, your hips unconsciously bucking against his hand as he worked over you casually. He circled your clit with slow precision, the pads of his fingers finding just the right pressure to make you gasp. A strained moan escaped your lips, more like a cry of need than anything else, and Spencer seemed to sense your desperation. 

He withdrew his hand from you, and you almost voiced a protest, but it died in your throat as he pushed your shorts down your legs. You quickly helped him, slipping off your panties before you settled back onto your side. But he stopped you, pulling you slightly onto your back so you were half-lying on the bed and half atop him.

Your heart was pounding in your chest as he slowly parted your legs. He positioned one of them over his, leaving you fully exposed. You could feel his ragged breath against your ear as his hand moved down the length of your inner thigh. You squirmed when he finally reached your heat.

He traced the outer edges of your folds, teasing you with light, feathery touches before he slipped lower, finding your entrance. He teased you there, dipping just inside before retreating, a drawn-out moan tumbling past your parted lips. He repeated the motion, each time going a little deeper, until finally, he pushed two fingers inside.

The sensation was immediate and overwhelming. His fingers were long, stretching you in ways that made your toes curl. You watched the way his arm flexed, his muscles tensing as he pumped his fingers in and out of your dripping cunt. He hit a spot inside you that left you gasping and panting, and your desperate hand sought purchase, sliding up behind you. You reached into the soft hair at the back of his head, threading carelessly through the tousled strands as he leaned closer, planting open-mouthed kisses along your neck.

Your moans grew louder, more urgent, as he continued to thrust his fingers deeper. The pressure built inside your lower stomach, and you could feel the unmistakable rhythm of his hips rutting against your ass. He was hard, his cock straining through the fabric of his pants, brushing against your bare skin with every thrust. Another drive of his hips had you clenching around his fingers, and suddenly, the sweetest noise flew past your ears.

A groan. A very small one, hardly above a whisper, but it was rich and coarse.

The sound only heightened your pleasure, and now you were seconds away from shattering. Your grip on his hair tightened as you turned your head towards him. He responded immediately, his mouth capturing yours desperately, a meeting of tongues and teeth that left you both breathless. You clung onto him as his fingers quickened their pace, and all you could hear was the filthy sound your body was making.

Everything was suddenly too much, and before you knew it, the tension coiled within you snapped. A wave of intense pleasure crashed over you, leaving you trembling and crying out against his mouth. Your body convulsed with the force of your orgasm, your inner muscles clenching around his fingers as he continued to drive into you, his hips grinding desperately against your ass.

You were now panting, trying to focus through the haze of your orgasm as you felt the hard length of him straining against his pants. You shifted slightly, arching your back to give him better access, and the new angle allowed him to press even closer. His fingers slipped from you, and he grabbed your hip, using it as leverage to grind himself harder, rutting his hips against you with an urgent rhythm.

With a final, forceful thrust, he found his release as a moan that sounded more strained and desperate, almost like a whine, escaped his lips. His body tensed and then relaxed, the tension melting away as he clung to you, his breath heavy and warm against your mouth.

For a moment, you stayed like that, both of you trying to catch your breath. But then the silence that followed became too palpable, stretching on as neither of you seemed ready to break it. You should probably say something, anything to fill the void, but neither of you seemed able to find the right words.

The quiet grew, and you suddenly became acutely aware of everything around you—how your leg was still draped over his, the feeling of his arousal still pressing against you, and the way the cool air brushed your exposed skin. And somehow, amidst it all, you began to feel a creeping sense of unease.

You began to resent how you had allowed yourself to be swept up in the moment. You began to hate your lack of self-control. When your brain was no longer clouded by lust, your thoughts became clear, and now you felt foolish for letting things go this far, for not guarding your emotions as well as your body.

Spencer opened his mouth, but you didn’t want to hear whatever regrets he might voice. You sensed it in the way he slightly pulled away, the way he loosened his grip around you as if he too was trying to make sense of everything. The last thing you needed was to hear those doubts spoken out loud.

You couldn’t take it anymore. The air felt thick, almost suffocating. The more you stayed there, the more you felt like drowning. It was all becoming too much. So you slipped away from his arms, trying to create some much-needed space between you. You didn’t look back as you headed towards the bathroom.

You didn’t look back as he called out your name.

[tapakah0]

Animation commission I guess...

Um... ha-ha, okay, it has been stuck in my head for the whole month, but if I will keep it any more I will explode, I need to busy my brain even more I'd like to take an animation commission. Like, a fully colored, shaded, with lightning, with in-betweens, with the clean line (and background). Up to 5 seconds depending on what you want to get I guess the price may start from 250$ and be higher or less depending on complexity of the details, character or movement (<- of course everything will be negotiated) I never took such commissions before so please be patient with me since I might spend even months ha-ha (really wanna beat this fear of taking something more complex) But I will do my best since it will be first experimental time for me 1. Payment via Boosty after acceptance of the sketch animation (very rough idea) 2. I think I can draw mostly anything (but won't 18+, guro and I can decline something if I feel like I will not like to do it) 3. You must have a reference of the character, I'm not ready to work with something that doesn't have a ref to start working right away 4. Please, properly think of what you'd like to see, I will not make 3 different rough animations of different ideas because you suddenly had another idea ;~;; 5. Note me in dms if you'd like to take commission... (I'd like to move to discord later since it's more comfortable in here) Uh... I have only this as a more or less proper example (it was based on amazing storyboard by yeye23)

Okay, I'll just leave it here if someone really will be interested and will delete if it if it will be decided.... I just feel like my brain is dying if I don't have an enjoyable/stressful more complicated work on a side that demands an attention from me. Have a nice day

[dissapointu]

Drabbles: Arcane Characters with an ADHD and Restless S/O

Jinx

“Why are we just sitting here?” you whine, bouncing your leg so hard the table shakes.

Jinx laughs, popping a piece of candy into her mouth. “Because I’m thinking, duh. Gotta brainstorm the perfect chaos plan.”

You groan, standing to pace the room, your hands twitching at your sides. “I can’t just sit here. I need to do something.”

“Okay, okay, calm down, Spazzy,” Jinx teases, jumping up to grab a sketchpad. “Wanna help me draw up some schematics? You get to pick the colors.”

The offer immediately distracts you, and you perk up. “Yes!”

Jinx grins, ruffling your hair. “Knew that’d get you. Now come here and help me blow some minds—literally.”

Vi

Vi watches as you dart around the apartment, starting one task only to abandon it halfway through. Dishes in the sink, laundry on the couch, and a book left open on the coffee table.

“Babe,” she calls, “you wanna, I dunno, pick one thing?”

“I tried!” you shout, throwing your hands up. “But there’s so much to do, and my brain won’t focus, and—”

Vi strides over, wrapping her arms around you from behind. “Alright, let’s do it together,” she says, her chin resting on your shoulder. “One thing at a time. I’ll even race you.”

That catches your attention. “You’re on.”

“Good,” she says with a smirk. “Loser buys dinner.”

Sevika

Sevika’s brow furrows as she watches you tap your fingers against the bar counter, your restless energy practically vibrating off you.

“What’s got you wound up?” she asks, her voice steady and calm.

“I don’t know,” you admit, groaning. “I just feel like I need to move.”

Sevika gestures toward the corner of the bar where her punching bag hangs. “Go let it out on that.”

Your eyes light up, and you’re halfway there before turning back. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Sevika says with a smirk. “Better the bag than my patience.”

You laugh, already throwing punches at the bag. Behind you, Sevika watches, shaking her head fondly.

Silco

The sound of your pacing echoes in Silco’s office as he reviews documents. He doesn’t even look up, simply gesturing toward the empty chair across from him.

“Sit,” he commands softly.

“I can’t!” you exclaim, throwing your hands in the air. “I feel like I’m gonna crawl out of my skin.”

Silco sighs, finally setting his pen down. “Then come here.”

You hesitate but approach his desk. Silco pulls a small puzzle box from a drawer, sliding it toward you. “Something to occupy your hands,” he says.

You take it, your fingers immediately working at the intricate mechanisms. Silco smirks as the sound of your pacing fades.

Vander

Vander leans against the counter, watching you bounce from task to task in the bar. You wipe a table, straighten a chair, and then dart behind the counter to rearrange glasses.

“You ever stop?” he teases, his deep voice pulling you from your whirlwind.

You shrug. “If I stop, I might explode.”

He chuckles, grabbing your wrist gently. “Come here.”

Vander pulls you into a firm embrace, his arms grounding you. “Take a breath,” he says, his voice low. “You don’t have to do it all at once.”

You sigh, leaning into him. “Thanks, Vander.”

“Anytime, love,” he murmurs.

Ekko

Ekko grins as you bounce on your toes, your energy palpable. “You’re like a human hummingbird,” he jokes, tossing you a wrench.

“What’s this for?” you ask, catching it mid-air.

“Help me fix this bike,” he says. “Something to keep your hands busy.”

You beam, immediately diving into the task. Ekko works beside you, occasionally nudging you with his elbow. “You’re a natural at this,” he says, watching as you tighten a bolt.

The compliment makes you pause, a smile tugging at your lips. “Thanks, Ekko.”

“No problem,” he says with a wink. “Now let’s see if we can finish before sunset.”

Jayce

Jayce looks up from his blueprint as you pace the lab, your movements quick and erratic.

“Hey,” he calls, holding up a small gadget. “Wanna help me test this?”

Your eyes light up. “What is it?”

“A stabilization device,” he explains, handing it to you. “If it works, it should keep you steady. If not…”

You grin, already fiddling with the controls. “If not, it’ll be fun to watch me try.”

Jayce laughs, leaning back in his chair. “That’s the spirit.”

Viktor

Viktor glances up from his desk as you tap your foot relentlessly, the sound filling the quiet lab.

“Would you like to take a walk?” he asks, his voice gentle.

You blink at him. “What?”

“A walk,” he repeats. “You clearly need to move, and I could use the fresh air.”

You grin, practically dragging him toward the door. “You’re the best, Viktor.”

He chuckles, leaning on his cane as he follows. “I’ll remind you of that when you wear me out.”

Caitlyn

Caitlyn sets her book down, watching as you fidget with the edge of your shirt. “What’s wrong, love?”

“I don’t know,” you admit, shifting in your seat. “I just feel… antsy.”

She stands, holding out her hand. “Come with me.”

You take it, letting her lead you to the kitchen. Caitlyn grabs a bag of flour and sets it on the counter. “We’re baking.”

Your confusion melts into excitement. “Really?”

“Really,” she says with a smile. “Something to keep you busy—and we get dessert out of it.”

[chelseeebe]

three’s a crowd.

this is just porn with absolutely no plot if i’m being completely honest lollll i was at a festival this weekend and wanted to ease my brain back into writing and then this happened?? i do have part 1 ready to go for shattering expectations but am waiting to post

18+. voyeurism. perv!eddie i guess. unprotected sex hehe

imagine sneaking off to the bathroom with steve at some event you didn’t even want to come to because he just can’t keep his hands off of you.

they’re grabbing onto your supple thighs to hoist you up onto the sink, moving between your legs, lips not living yours as his large, hardened hands roam your body. dress yanked up over your thighs revealing a damp patch in your lacy panties.

he’s growling into your mouth, feeling his erection nudging perfectly at your sensitive clit. pulling him closer to you with your legs wrapped around his waist.

murmuring words of encouragement to tell him to hurry up. you need him now.

his pants coming undone, cock springing up against his stomach as you shuffle forward, hips tilted as you wait impatiently for him to fill you up.

trying so desperately not to make any noise when he slides inside, forehead resting against yours with the tinges of a smirk on his lips. he can feel just how soaked you are for him already, stretching your pretty pussy around him.

finding it too difficult to keep your mouth shut when he hits that sweet, spongy spot deep inside, mewling into his ear with a breath chorus of stevestevesteve.

you’re not sure if you’re hearing things but you’re sure the door creaks and your eyes flit over to spot eddie stood gawping, one hand still wrapped around the rusting door handle.

you startle a little at the sight, squeezing steve’s shoulder to grab his attention, ‘steve.. steve,’ different to the similar sounds you’d been making.

he looks back over his shoulder without much concern, tsks quietly before continuing to thrust his hips, the sounds of your wetness filling the tiny room.

it’s so fucking hot. it shouldn’t be hot.

knowing he’s just stood there watching, you should feel weird. it was. but it was just so sexy, encouraging you in a way you’d never known possible.

your stomach twists, averting your eyes as your head rolls back against the dirtied mirror. heels digging into his back when his thumb moves to circle your clit. using the opportunity to bury his head into your neck, suckling at the taut skin, littering the empty space in a plethora of purples.

head lolling to the side as you once again making eye contact with the other man still stood at the door. dropping to the obvious tent in his pants, hand twitching, just absolutely fucking desperate to touch himself.

eager to please, you steve in by the collar of his shirt, lazily connecting your lips. tongues and spit. eddie’s chest is heaving, near enough drawing blood from his teeth dug into his bottom lip.

your stomach twists, too blissed out now to care about one eddie munson stood at the door. steve’s hand is balanced on the porcelain basin, slamming into your cunt mercilessly, feeling you tighten around him. he knows you’re close, the sweet sounds rolling out of your mouth are indication enough.

‘fuck..’ you’re whining, thighs trembling as the coil snaps, eyes squeezing shut as your orgasm overtakes your limbs. white hot flashes explode behind your eyelids. clinging onto steve’s neck in fear of falling off the flimsy sink.

steve grunts, burying himself to the hilt as thick ropes of hot cum paint your walls. leaving wet kisses along your jaw and down onto your already marked neck before pulling out. his pants back around his waist before you have time to even digest what had just happened.

he’s a gentleman, pulling your dress down and helping you from the basin. finding it so insanely hot to know he’s dripping out of you as you land on wobbly legs, cheeks burning when you catch sight of eddie again.

it’s a silent exchange between them but it makes you giddy all over again. steve nodding at the boy before taking your hand and pulling you out of the bathroom with as much haste as he’d pulled you into it.

the lock clicking as soon as the door is shut again.

[danosrosegarden]

my love, mine all mine - edward nashton x gn!reader headcanons (slight NSFW) ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

{contains: descriptions of a protective and obsessive edward. very minor illusions to smut but nothing in any detail.}

{note: this piece was a paid commission, and i have permission to share it publicly. find out more about commissioning a piece from me in my pinned post.}

☽ Extracting Edward Nashton’s love from the tired, weary woosh of his heart is no difficult task. He might’ve thought, before you at least, that his body did not hold the proper room for love. Love was far too bright and shimmering of a word, blinding him like the beaming reflection of the sun on scintillating waves. It was far too strong of a feeling, exploding and sizzling in his blood like face-scrunchingly sour candy. Love was neither something he could handle, nor something he believed he needed. He’d survived through his own strength. How demeaning to suggest that he needed a kiss on the cheek or to hold someone’s hand in order to be complete.

☽ But now he has you, and he’s not sure what to do. You’re so easy to fall head over heels for, and it’s an overwhelming high he’s found himself riding. You didn’t force your way through the walls he had built up around himself; you gently grabbed hold of his hand and took each brick down with care and tenderness. You didn’t coo at his sob story or cast pity upon him, looking down at him patronizingly as if he was a starved, abused puppy; you listened carefully to his woes and…well, you were just there for him. You didn’t rush to try to fix what was shattered or leave when it all got too moldy and dark…you simply sat with him through it. So no, extracting Edward’s love from his heart was no difficult task for you. But here’s the kicker…it’s even easier to draw out his lust.

☽ It’s the littlest things that any other person might easily overlook. It’s the way your eyebrow cocks as you ponder the crossword puzzle you two solved together each week. It’s the way you tap the eroded pink eraser of the pencil against your lips as your brain wanders. He wishes he could crawl inside of the deepest wrinkles of your brain. He wishes he could crack you open, flow through your body like your thick, warm blood, protect you like your bones. He wants you and you wholly. He wants you in ways the outside world will never get to see. They don’t deserve it. They don’t deserve you.

☽ It’s sort of a blessing and a curse for Ed, having you in his life. He gets his answered prayer, his angel. But now he constantly worries. His stomach lurches and churns with every bad scenario his mind can conjure whenever you leave. His palms dampen with warm sweat when he thinks about what the world might do to you.

☽ He refuses. He refuses to let the world contaminate you with its filth.

☽ And you wonder. You wonder what’s going through his mind when his hands are gripping your sides like you’ll disintegrate if he lets go. You wonder what could possibly be racing through his body when he growls those words into your ear over and over like a scratched record: mine. Mine. Mine.

☽ When everything else that’s ever resembled goodness and purity and hope has been ripped from his arms, there is no other option. He has no other choice but to protect, to watch over, to keep safe. To ravage and devour and lovingly consume. You’re his, his, only his.

[shunshunrika]

I just saw your megumi smut and need morrree! How about hanging out with the other sorcerers where he has to pull you away to have his way with you because your coyly teasing him.

(⁠ ͡⁠°⁠ ͜⁠ʖ⁠ ͡⁠°⁠).... I don't want to make it coy towards Megumi though:( so see if you like what the devil on my shoulder made me write~

It's so fcking long tho, sorry bout that but I needed to flesh it out or my brain would explode.

content warnings: Okay y/n is a bxtch and megumi is too. afab!reader x megumi fushiguro, SMUT. unprotected rough sex, oral(f! recieving), overstim, penetrative sex, dacryphilia, humiliation, restraints, orgasm denial, consensual, petnames, gags, and the like. I am NOT proofreading this monstrosity.

minors dni

word count: 2k

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

The glass bottle takes a decisive turn before its neck points indisputably at you.

"Y/N. The bottle chooses you. What do you pick?" Panda asks, a Cheshire smile gracing his face as the game of Truth or Dare between the adults draws on. It was Jujutsu High's 10 year reunion and all of you were grown ups and seasoned sorcerers now.

"Well since all of you pussies were choosing truth." You say, lifting your chin, "I choose dare!"

"Perfect!" Panda claps his paws together with Inumaki nodding beside him "Tuna Mayo!"

"I dare you to kiss one of the people here except Megumi ofcourse, for 10 minutes"

Well fair enough. These perverts won't make you kiss your sweetheart of 7 years in front of everyone. It won't be spicy enough since the two of you were practically a married couple to them. They wanted some drama and today out of all days, you felt like giving it to them.

As soon as the dare escapes Pandas mouth, Megumi lays a hand on your thigh under the drink ladden table.

Earlier in the day, Megumi had the balls to tell you to act 'civilized'. Recently, Megumi had hit the age where he looked a bit too irresistible (yeah, ironed formals, shadow of a clean shave, light lines of age and the sparkle of a young ceo, iykyk) and you were leaving no chance to smooch your sweetheart in public. Megumi didn't want you to showcase such behavior in front of your mates and former senpais.

Cool Megumi, then someone else will get your smooches and you knew already who the group favorite was to receive your kiss.

"w-w-why is everyone staring at me?" Yuuji Itadori quacked out, his faces barely hiding his embarrassment.

"We know you still like Y/N Itadori. Although Megumi's put a ring on her pretty much" Nobara elbows Yuuji mischievously while Megumi's grip on your thigh tightens.

"This is your time to shine,BROTHER" Aoi Todo (Yuuji's +1) slaps Yuuji's back hard, knocking the air out of him.

Wasting no time, you get up and head over to Yuuji's side of the table and slide between him and Maki as Yuuji literally starts to lose consciousness.

"Yuuji, I can't believe you still like me" you say, holding his face and looking into his teary eyes with passion. You decide to take it one step further and start unbuttoning his shirt gingerly while everyone lets out a gasp of horror.

"Y/N! The dare was to kiss not have..have..s-s-" Maki says nervously.

"You can't have sex here in public. Besides what about Megumi?!" Panda voices and all eyes turn to Megumi. Megumi who is known for having a composed nature didn't look quite composed in this moment. You smirk at your boyfriend.

"Aw. Megumi won't mind. Would you?" You coo at him, palming Yuuji's muscular chest.

"Well then" you say, lowering yourself to close the distance between you and Yuuji while Yuuji sweats bullets, unable to make decisions and wondering if his bestfriend will beat him up later.

In the last second before your action you saw Megumi's eyes go wide and heartbroken. You turned your head swiftly to kiss Maki on the cheek instead earning a shriek from everyone at the table.

"h-huh? Huhhh?" Maki goes, covering the cheek you kissed.

"What y'all really thought I'd kiss another man? How low is your opinion of me!" You say, pouting as you hear Yuuji and practically everyone else sink into their chairs in relief. Everyone except Megumi who gets up and grabs his belongings.

"I'll head home for the evening guys. Have fun" he says, making eye contact and smiling at everyone except you. You feel your jubilant smile drop quickly as you hurry to be beside him.

"W-well, guess I'll be going too" you say awkwardly, waving a goodbye to the stunned group.

Megumi ignored your declaration as he headed to his car without waiting for you and you had to practically chase him down before he could leave without you. You got into the Mercedes just as its engine purred to life smoothly.

"Megumi!" You gasped, trying to catch your breath. "Are you nuts? Were you going to leave without me?" You asked in a panic while Megumi remained as cool as a cucumber and gave you no reaction nor response whatsoever. He simply drove at lightspeed, hands not letting go of the steering while you pleaded with him.

.

"Megumi. It was a joke alright." You said, hastily removing your strappy heels, cursing at how difficult they were. Megumi had already shut the door behind him as he entered the house. When you managed to open the door again, you screeched "You're fucking overreacting!"

Dead silence.

Megumi had stopped in his tracks to turn to look at you with fearsome eyes bearing a shadow of hostility. You gulped at his aura.

"I am overreacting? Huh?" He said, approaching you and pulling you by the hand towards your shared bedroom.

"I'm overreacting? Let me see. That means I can call Nobara here and fuck the brains out of her no?" He asks, his eyes guaging your reaction. You are unable to speak, struggling under his iron grip.

He opens the door to your bedroom and pushes you onto the bed.

"You want me to bring Momo and Miwa here and overstimulate the daylights out of them right in front of you? I'd like that to be honest. It really turns me on you know. Ahhh."

"Me-Megumi, stop that." You say, looking up at his towering figure from the bed. "You don't have to go that far."

"What's wrong?" He asks. "Feeling bad?" He deftly removes his striped tie from his collar in one go and wraps it in rolls around his hand.

"You're so dramatic Y/N." Megumi smirks. "I'm not doing anything, I'm just voicing my thoughts. You should get the joke" he says, grabbing both of your hands in one of his and tying them up with his tie.

"I'm sorry." You say timidly. You'll be fine after all. He's going to have makeup sex now.

After every argument you have ever had with Megumi, he always turns to makeup sex as a way to express his apology incase the fight got too heated. He hasn't ever used his tie as a restraint during makeup sex before though, so that left you curious and directionless.

"Nobara." He declares. "that's the safe word." An evil glint in his usually kind eyes.

"Are you serious?" You ask.

"I make jokes less frequently than you do" he says, hands waiting on the hem of the velvety skirt you are wearing. This was his way of asking for permission. For whatever he has set up, till now and whatever he's about to do. You gulp, intimidated and excited at the same time. If you were to voice refusal, Megumi would stop instantly.

"Fine then. Nobara it is. Not like I'll use it ever." You say, sticking out your tongue to him.

With that greenlight, Megumi wastes no time stripping you off your pencil skirt and halter neck top as you squirm with your arms behind you, getting eager by the second.

"Wow, look at you." he says, grabbing you by the jaw. "Humiliation doesn't affect you at all."

"It's because it's my Megumi." you grin at him. "Kiss me." you pout, trying to hoist yourself up despite your restraint but Megumi backs up swiftly.

"Nuh-uh." he smirks. "You won't get to lay a finger on me today."

"What?" you gasp and plop back down. "That's not fair. I want to suck on your lips right now!"

"Sounds like your problem." he says, cocking his head to side, removing your lacy panties out of the way - a practice of several years. Right when he's about to go down on you though, his phone buzzes with life.

Megumi looks over his shoulder to check as you protest when he proceeds to pick it up. He holds it between his ear and left shoulder, continuing to descend on you.

"Yeah, Itadori, what's up?" he says, licking a stripe up one of your nether lips. Your body freezes at that. You can faintly hear Yuuji's voice on the other end since he's so LOUD.

"Hey bud. I just wanted to check if you and Y/n are okay. Y'all left so suddenly. I'm really sorry about what happened, I told Panda senpai off after that and Maki senpai contributed a few punches."

"Hey, you're worrying too much." Megumi says, grabbing your hips and placing a kiss on your swollen clit earn a moan from you.

"Huh? What was that?" Yuuji asks on the other end, and you shake your head furiously at Megumi.

"Hmm... nothing. You're hallucinating." Megumi says, sucking on the nub, making your wrap your thighs against his head.

"If you're having a popsicle or something I'll call later yo. Eat in peace." Yuuji says, innocently, cutting the phone as you sigh in relief.

"Ah what a killjoy." Megumi curses, kissing your inner thighs.

"What are you relieved about?" he asks before plunging tongue-first into the depths of your pussy and staying there to explore the walls with his muscle. The inability to use your hands to grab on to something, his hair, the sheets, anything was really messing with you. You just smothered him with thighs to maintain your grip on reality. Your hips raised up and away from him when he found a particularly sensitive spot inside you. He placed a hand on your belly to keep you from moving. "Where are you running away, baby?"

"M-m-megumi. I am so close." you stammer as he continues his assault on your womanhood. "- so, so, so close. GOD." you gasp.

At that moment, Megumi removes his mouth from your vagina, making your eyes go wide in horror and anger.

"What? H-hey, get back on there. What are you doing?" you say, struggling against the sheets.

"Y/N. I'll do things my way, okay." Megumi smiles at you. "And shut up for a bit." he says, stuffing the panties he discarded earlier into your mouth. Your head spun from your own potent scent. You don't know how he dealt with it.

You watched him silently as he wasted time kissing your thighs and pussy lips again. He knew exactly what he was doing. This was no less than a declaration of war.

You still had reign over your lower body so you thrust your hips up and onto his mouth, surprising him. This time, he continued what he was doing, but it was a restart for you anyway.

More suckling. More tongue dives. More muffled moaning later, another orgasm blooms inside you and your eyes roll back. But Megumi let's go moments before you're about to climax.

"Mmmm!" you whimper, unable to say anything. Your eyes well up with tears. Megumi spots this and removes the fabric from your mouth. He leans in a bit too close to your face and coos at you. "Why is my bratty baby crying?" his brows go up in sympathy. "You feeling overwhelmed?"

At this point, you pool all of your strength to raise yourself up and chase his lips and he backs away again.

"Hmm.. no."

Now you practically have a river flowing down your cheeks. Your pussy hurts from almost hitting peak twice or thrice. It sucks. Megumi sucks. Yet, yet... you were somehow still turned on.

"Megumi." you say seriously. "You know I haven't thought about anyone except you for a decade right?"

"I rejected Yuuji four times because I was so in love with you back in school. Do you not remember? And Yuuji still had it better than me, because you rejected me a dozen times throughout school, you ass!" you remind him. It was true. You fell first. But he seemed to have fallen harder over the years. He had given you one chance on graduation day and you had completely capitalized on it.

"It had always been you Megumi. My first one and my only one." you say, now crying for real.

"Shh.." Megumi whispers, placing a kiss on the corner of your mouth.

"Y/N." He kisses your forehead and nose next. "You really know how to turn the situation your way, you smartass." he says, snaking a hand under your body to grope your ass. His hands brush against your tied up ones.

He makes you sit up and unties you, checking to make sure there aren't any marks. Fortunately, there aren't. The first thing you do is swing your arms around his neck and climb into his lap. "Never stop me from touching you again." you mumble into the crook of his neck.

You feel something sticking out and poking at your thigh and you find Megumi's angry cock dying to grab your attention. Megumi gulps as you eye his member curiously.

"Megumi." you start. "Should I do to you what you did to me?"

"Nobara." he says.

"HUH?" you raise your voice, unable to understand why he suddenly took her name until you remember it's your safe word.

"What? You want to stop?" you ask him genuinely.

"No, I don't. But if you deny me my orgasm. It might be too much for me to handle." he admits embarrassingly, pursing his lips.

"Megumi, you are too cruel." you say, hoisting yourself up and impaling yourself on his hard on. You appreciate how it fills you up completely. "I am not letting you get away." you add, starting to bounce up and down on his cock, angling yourself so it hits your good spots. You also make your chest is suffocating Megumi at all times as you let a symphony of moans and whines flow out of you.

You hold on to his muscular shoulders for dear life as your nth orgasm of the day creeps up onto you. This time you don't tell him you are coming and let yourself get undone on his cock, grabbing fistfuls of his hair.

"Oh my goodness." you cry out, leaning away from him. You look at his face and realize by his fucked up expression that he probably came alongside you. This gives you a brilliant idea as you quickly recover from your climax.

You don't stop moving around his cock. You keep up at it like you never came and Megumi starts to scratch at your back, clearly overstimulated but not saying anything. You proceed to then crash your lips against his, twisting his nipple in your fingers as he whimpers. Eventually, it becomes too much for him to bear.

He separates from you, drooling. "Y/n. W-wait. It's too much!"

"It's not." you say teasingly. "Just once more." You keep up your pace, making him thrust in and out of you. Before you can best him though, he recovers too.

He grabs your waist and changes positions, pushing you into the mattress and into a mating press, thrusting into you like a monster.

"M-m-megu-" you are unable to speak from how hard you are being moved. You come again. and again. and again. and Megumi keeps going. Like a crazed animal.

"Stop I'll die now!" you scream, your knees bumping against your chin from the position.

This is when Megumi finally releases for the second time, and collapses on you.

"Payback, for all those times I didn't let you -"

"Megumi, you're really - " you manage to whisper as you feel your eyes starting to shut.

The both of you doze off just like that, entangled and dirty with juice.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅

(okay boys, thanks for reading! LET ME KNOW HOW YOU FEEL ABOUT THIS. I do have an idea for part 2 of this where Megumi feels gulity about how he behaved and tries to make it up to the reader. it'll be fluffy and romantic. I'll write it if this gets enough hits and enough people want a part 2. PEACE :) )

[slvt4em1lyprenti2s]

It’s okay

Word count:1.5k

Pairing: Amelia x fem!reader

Warnings: panic attack, mention of death/patient loss, tiny angst ig? mostly a comfort fic

!!NOT PROOFREAD!!

Reader is an OB-GYN at Grey Sloan

Request: @wh0reformeredithgrey on wattpad

more comfort/sickfics? maybe I really enjoy them or like y/n is having a panic attack or is upset and someone comforts them.

Hope you like it!!

Reader POV:

"Charge again!" I yelled to the scrub nurses around me. They all just stared and did nothing. "Goddammit, did you not hear me? Charge the paddles!" I exclaimed tears pricking at my eyes and panic lacing my breaking voice.

"Doctor, we've been trying to get her back for 25 minutes now, she's gone. You have to call it." Bokhee said to me.

"But-" I tried protested but was cut off.

"She's gone, I'm sorry."

"She's only 16, her and her baby are gone, what am I supposed to tell her parents?" I rambled

"Doctor, you need to call it." Bokhee repeated

"Time of death, 19:37." At that I ripped of my mask, gloves and gown and headed to tell the parents.

As soon as I walked in the room they stood up with hopeful faces. As soon as they saw my state the mother started to cling to her husband and sob.

"I'm so sorry, there was a complication during surgery. Her heart stopped and the cause was her preeclampsia causing a blood clot stopping the blood flow to her heart and it was too quick to prevent. I'm so sorry for your loss." Then he started yelling. All of it was a blur from then in.

"YOU SAID IT WAS A SIMOLE SURGERY!" and so on. He just kept going. The mother still sobbing. Then all of a sudden I saw a blur of beige and then a stinging sensation on my cheek as my face was pushed to the side.

People had seen the commotion and the saw her dad slap me and stepped in. "SIR, STOP RIGHT NOW." Bailey said, escorting the man out. Jo tried to come comfort me but I just stormed off. I needed to be alone. I needed to cry.

Amelia POV:

Today has been really great, I had 2 back to back craniotomy's and both of them went really well; I got paged to the pit and got to poke around in people brain all day and didn't loose one patient. It was amazing.

I'm walking down the hallway to go find my girlfriend so I can gush about all my surgeries to her, but she seems to be nowhere. I've looked in all of her usual spots, looked in OR's, patient rooms I've asked her best friend, Jo, if she knows where she is an she didn't, she just said she ran off after what happened; but I don't know what happened. Is she okay?

I was about to give up and just page her when I see her storming down a corridor and walk into a storage cupboard and close the door. Instantly I knew something was wrong. Storage cupboards are for crying, or getting away from annoying patients. No in between. Y/N is the most tolerant person I know so, I knew it wasn't good.

Trying to walk as fast as I could but not draw attention to myself was hard but I managed. It seemed like forever before I reached the door. I didn't bother knocking because she'd just tell me to go away. When I walked in the was curled up, knees to her chest and head in her hands, crying. No scratch that, sobbing. Whatever happened had to have really hit her hard.

Reader POV:

I lost them. Both of them. Mum and baby. She was 16! She didn't deserve to die, and neither did her kid. It's my fault. All my fault.

I was snapped out of my thoughts when I heard the door swing open and shut and I instantly knew who it was.

"Oh sweetheart. It's okay." Was the only thing she said before she got down on the floor next to me and pulled me into her comforting embrace.

Even though having Amelia here was making it a little better I started to spiral again. My breath started to get thready and I already knew what was coming. My hands started shaking while my heart thumped faster and faster against my chest. I felt like I was going to explode. My chest was getting tight and I started hyperventilating, it felt like I was being suffocated. I started clawing at my arms just trying to feel something other than this emotional pain and feeling that I didn't do enough. Amelia clearly noticed my state and went into action.

"Look at me." She said as she pulled away from the hug and grabbed my hands to discontinue my previous actions.

"Breathe, okay? Long deep breathes. C'mon do it with me. In, hold, and out."

It helped a bit but not much I was still unable to catch my breath.

"Hey tell me about that cat that you wanted?"

"What?" I said back through choked tears and ragged breathes.

"Tell me. Everything I wanna hear it."

"Uhm okay. She's a siamese cat, and she's the fluffiest of her litter. She's got heterochromia, one eye blue and one green, and when she sees me when I go to the adoption place she runs up and headbutts my leg." I giggle at that last part and realise it helped calm me down. I'm still crying but I can breathe now and my chest isn't tight.

I didn't even realise that Amelia had moved my legs so I was cross legged and facing her while she rubbed her hands lovingly up and down my thighs. She was just staring into my eyes with nothing but love and concern.

"Great job baby, you're doing so well, you wanna talk about it, Ii might help?" I nodded and stated talking her through it.

"A teen mum came in, she was 8 months pregnant and 16. She was having pains in her abdomen, it was just a small very minor ovarian cyst that could be removed with a simple procedure that wouldn't affect her or the baby. But, for some reason they failed to mention that she had preeclampsia which I figured out mid surgery so that made me become really concerned because of how long she'd been under and decided that I didn't have time to search to see if the other ovary was clear, I just had to close. Just as I was about to her BP plummeted and she went into full arrest, first I opened her up and saw the clot, I removed it and used internal panels and she came back but it just kept clotting over and over. I shocked her for 25 minutes and they were both gone. The baby died instantaneously when her heart stopped the first time. It was my fault. All my fault. I should've seen the elevated BP indicating preeclampsia in her labs but I didn't, it was so subtle I-" I rambled on when Amelia cut me off.

"No. Okay? No. It was not your fault, they should've told you she had preeclampsia. That's something that greatly impacts how much surgery you can do and how much the mum can take. It wasn't your fault that she clotted either. No one could've prevented that."

"Yeah but I put her body under stress which cause her to clot."

"How do you know that? Do you know that as a fact? Tell me right here right now that you are confident and 100% sure it was because of the stress of the surgery." I stayed silent, the truth is, I didn't know what caused the clot I just instantly blamed myself. Amelia then started talking again.

"Exactly, you need to not be so hard on yourself y/n/n, it's not good for you." I stayed quite and just climbed into her arms and cried.

"He hit me." I said out of the blue after a few minutes of just being in each others presence.

"He what? Who? Where? Are you hurt?" Amelia said becoming protective over me immediately.

"The girls dad, he was yelling really loud and saying horrible things about me, that I probably deserved, and he hit me." I pointed to my red cheek. Not that you could really see in the dim light of the cupboard.

"I'll kill him." She said coldly.

"No Ames, I'm okay I swear. It was just too much, and thank you for helping me through the uh- you know.." I trailed off at the end embarrassed that I had a full on panic attack in front of my girlfriend.

"Y/n/n you don't need to be embarrassed it's completely okay and a natural response. And touching on what you said earlier that you deserved to be slapped, you didn't. It wasn't your fault, okay?"

"Okay." I said back to her as she stood up and helped me off the floor.

As soo as I stood up I was engulfed in her arms.

"I love you so much Amelia." I said

"I love you more y/n."

[keeps-ache]

ヮ_ヮ [<- the Creature of Solitude]

[mattyriddlegf]

The Stupid Closet (3)

Happy Sunday! Hope everyone enjoys this one, it's a little bit longer this week!

Comment if you'd like to be added to the taglist :)

(This is a series, read previous parts first!)

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About two weeks had passed since your and Mattheo’s argument. You had avoided him since then, spending most of your time with Theo. You really liked Theo and didn’t want to screw anything up. Whenever you were around Mattheo, your mind seemed to wander to places it didn’t belong. 

You had been studying all day and you felt like your brain was about to explode. Theo, Blaise, and Draco had quidditch and Pansy chose to watch instead of study. Unfortunately for you, you were towards the top of your class and wanted to maintain perfect grades so you had decided to study instead.

I need a break.

You close the book in front of you and look at your window. The weather was nice and sunny. You decided to take a break and head outside to the gardens, sitting on a bench by yourself. You loved nature and enjoyed being in the fresh air, it was so peaceful for you.

You close your eyes, taking in the warm breeze.

“Wow I’ve barely seen you out and about without Theo lately” You hear a voice sound behind you. Mattheo’s voice.

You open your eyes and look back to see Mattheo standing there, holding a brown leather notebook. You watch as he sits down next to you.

“What’s that?” You ask him, pointing to the notebook.

“Nothing…” He trails off, looking out to the flowers around you.

“Oh come on. Let me see!” You try to grab the book, him moving it away, holding it in the air.

“No! Nobody has ever seen this.” Mattheo responds.

“What…are you hiding something gross in there?” You ask, looking up at him with puppy eyes.

“No, but-” He says until you grab the book from him and hold it on the other side of you so he can’t take it back.

As he sighs, you open the book to see sketches and poems written throughout. Most of the sketches are of birds and other animals, nature, and the castle. They were extremely detailed.

“Matty these are beautiful” You breathe out as you flip through the pages.

“Matty? Is that my new nickname?” He laughs. You had never seen this side of Mattheo.

“Maybe” The nickname had just come out without a second thought. You respond as you look up to him for a moment before looking back towards the book, “Seriously did you draw all of these yourself?”

“Yeah I did. I love drawing and honestly even poetry sometimes is really peaceful” He says, shrugging his shoulders. He pauses before adding, “but don’t tell anybody…please.”

You look up and stare into his large brown puppy eyes. You swear you could get lost in them.

“I won’t” You breathe out. You looked down to his lips for a moment.

“Fuck” Mattheo whispers before leaning forward and connecting your lips. He places his hand on your cheek. It took you by surprise but after a moment, you came to your senses.

You back away, “We can’t do this Mattheo.” You scoot over a little bit, putting some space between you two, “I’m with Theo.”

“I’m sorry.” Mattheo apologizes.

 You hand his book back to him, “I uh have to go.” He blurts out before standing up. He walks away, looking back at you before you’re out of his sight.

You were so screwed. 

You had never seen the softer side of Mattheo but you liked it. He was sweet and sensitive, nothing like the Mattheo you had known all these years. What brought him out, you weren’t sure of but you were glad he did.

You stayed sitting on the bench, touching your lips. His kiss lingered once again. You stayed there for a while, trying to think of Theo and how much you liked him. Why did this keep happening with Mattheo? This was twice now and it had only been less than a month back at Hogwarts.

You went back to your room, studying until Pansy came back. 

“How’d they do?” You ask.

“They did great! Theo seemed in a good mood when I left…” She trailed off, winking with a wide smile on her face.

While you guys had managed to keep it somewhat private, it was known throughout the group that you and Theo had been having sex quite often. 

“Pansy, that doesn’t mean we’re gonna hook up” You roll your eyes.

“I know…but I love you two together, it just makes so much sense” She squeals. 

You laugh, “Ready to head down to dinner?” You ask. Pansy nods her head and walks down to the dinner hall with you, joining your group at the Slytherin table.

You sit down next to Theo, across from Mattheo. Mattheo keeps his head down, eating his food. Throughout the entire dinner, he doesn’t look at you once nor does he speak up at all. Mattheo was usually on the more quiet side but never was he this silent. 

After dinner, you walk back with Theo. He takes you to his room, Mattheo walking in as you guys kiss. It wasn’t going anywhere but as soon as Mattheo walks in, you back away. 

“I’m gonna go to the bathroom real quick” Theo says before getting up and walking into the bathroom, leaving you and Mattheo alone.

You sit on Theo’s bed as Mattheo looks through his dresser. You didn’t know what to say so you just blurt it out, “Mattheo are we ok?”

“Why wouldn’t we be?” He says, continuing to dig through his dresser.

“I mean I don’t know, I just thought-” You start.

“Well don’t. As far as I’m concerned nothing happened.” Mattheo stops and looks at you.

“Well it did…” You trail off.

“Look. Like you said, you’re with Theo. Just forget it ever happened because it won’t again.” Mattheo slams his dresser drawer shut.

Theo walks back into the room, looking between us, “Is everything ok?”

“Everything’s fine.” Mattheo responds as he walks past Theo and leaves the room, shutting it behind him. Theo looks over to you as you furrow your eyebrows. 

“What was that?” Theo asks as he sits down next to you.

“Mattheo being Mattheo I guess.” You raise your eyebrows as you pinch the bridge of your nose, “He hurts my head”

“I think I can fix that” Theo grabs your face, bringing you in for a kiss. The kisses heat up, you pushing Theo beneath you as you take your top off. 

Theo flips you around, holding himself up on top of you. He goes down and starts kissing your chest and stomach.

“Wait.” You say. He looks up, stopping what he’s doing, “Maybe we shouldn’t do this right now, Mattheo could be back at any second…”

“Don’t worry about it” Theo says, starting to go back down.

“Theo seriously” You say. He backs off of you and stands up, sighing. 

“I don’t understand, you’ve been all over me for the past ten days and now you suddenly don’t want to?” Theo asks.

“I just don’t want Mattheo to-”

“Why does he matter in this situation?” Theo interrupts.

“Because Theo, he walked in on us once and-” You say as you pull your shirt back on.

“And what?” Theo asks quietly.

“And he saw me. All of me. And I just don’t want it happening again.” You blurt out.

“What do you mean he saw all of you?”

“He saw my tattoo…” You whisper. You were hoping that Theo wouldn’t hear but he did.

“Did he bring this up to you?” He asks, urgency in his voice.

“Yeah but we’re past it and-” you start rambling.

“Oh I’m gonna kill him.” Theo says as he opens the door and walks out of the Slytherin house, you running after him.

“Theo it’s fine, please don’t” You plead as Theo walks up to the astronomy tower. Both Theo and Mattheo went up there to smoke quite often.

When you guys reach the tower, Theo walks straight up to Mattheo and punches him in the nose, “What the fuck!” Mattheo shouts.

“You fucking talk about her again, I swear to god” Theo gets in his face, pointing at his chest.

“Theo please” You say as you try to pull him away.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” Mattheo spits.

“Mention her body again and you’re dead, hear me Riddle?”

“Back the fuck off Theo. I won’t mess with your perfect little girlfriend or your relationship ok?” Mattheo looks past Theo over to you. His nose was bleeding, sweat dripping off his forehead.

Theo backed off, staring at Mattheo before turning around and walking away. He was fuming and didn’t even notice you still there, watching him leave. After he’s gone, you turn around and look at Mattheo who’s watching you as his jaw is clenched.

“I’m sorry, It just came out and-” you start trying to explain yourself.

“Just leave it.” Mattheo responds quietly, leaning on one side, placing his hand on his hip, the other touching the blood under his nose.

“You’re bleeding.” You mention as you walk towards him.

“I’m fine.” Mattheo twitches his nose, breathing in as he does, looking at the ground.

“Mattheo please…let me help.” He looks up at you, his brown eyes staring into your soul.

He takes a moment to look at you before nodding. You both walk down to the girls bathroom nobody uses. You get a cloth, wetting it as he leans back against the sink next to you.

You take the cloth and start wiping his nose off as you stand there, your thighs up against his.

“You know, it’s not even that bad” You mention, still wiping the blood off absentmindedly.

Mattheo grabs your wrist and looks at you, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” You mutter out.

“Kissing you in that bottle game. It was stupid of me.” You hold eye contact with him the entire time.

“Don’t worry about it.” You reply as he lets go of your wrist. You look down before you add on, “It was actually kinda good.”

“The kiss?” Mattheo smiles and lightly laughs.

“I said only kinda” You respond, laughing with him. This was nice. You and Mattheo finally didn’t hate each other and it felt…normal.

“I better go check in with Theo.” You say, washing your hands. 

“Right” Mattheo nods pursing his lips.

“Look. Matty he's your best friend, he just-“ you sigh, “I turned him down because I didn’t want you to walk in on us again.”

“You turned him down? Because of me?” Mattheo asks.

“Don’t let that go to your head” you respond, “I’ll go talk to him ok?”

“Ok.” Mattheo responds emotionless, “…thanks”

You lightly smile as he pushes his weight off the sink and starts walking to the door. He leaves the bathroom, leaving you alone in your thoughts. What was happening between you two? And why did you have butterflies in your stomach?

taglist: @helendeath @mayamonroem

[sorencd]

ART CLASS

pairing: neil perry x shy!f!reader

summary: you and neil talk about how you two acted around each other before you started dating.

word count: 0.7k

a/n: i lovr neil so much imghrhgfhr

"remember that one time you tried giving me chocolates on valentine's day?" neil said as he looked up from where he laid, his head was on your lap as you fiddled with his soft brown locks.

you two were under a tree, just enjoying each other's company. you were reading him a book before he suddenly brought up the memory of valentine's day.

"what? i gave you chocolates even back then?" you responded as you raised your eyebrows. you don't recall giving him anything before you two became a thing. you were too shy to even come close to him on your own accord, you needed your friends to force you to even be able to talk to him and whenever he gets into close proximity with you, you'd run away with red-tinted cheeks.

"yeah," he smiled fondly, remembering the memory with a lovesick grin on his face. "you almost tripped on your way back after you gave me the chocolates because of how fast you ran away." neil laughed─ his eyes crinkling and his hair turning into a light brown hue as the sun's rays that peaked from the leaves above shined onto the two of you.

your face flushed a crimson red as you finally recalled the moment, it was so long ago. you made your brain suppress the memory of you humiliating yourself and buried it in the back of your head but alas, your boyfriend made you recollect the whole thing. you didn't think he'd still remember that. you covered your face in embarrassment and groaned as neil's laughter got louder.

"i-i was scared of how you'd react!" you reasoned as a smile made its way to your lips when you looked at him, "you didn't have to remind me of that!"

"oh, i did have to remind you that. i couldn't forget about it, you looked really cute while handing it to me." he hollered. "you were as red as a strawberry!"

"at least i didn't fall off a tree when i was reading a poem." you said with a small smirk. "oh, the moon that shined brightly on my darkest days.." you teased as you repeated words from the poem he wrote and read to you when he first asked you out on a date. you could still remember him suddenly appearing on the tree branch that was by your window with that signature smile of his.

the laughter came to an abrupt end and it was neil's turn to be embarrassed. "i could still feel the pain from when i fell down."

you laughed, "or how about that time we bumped our heads when we first tried kissing?"

"i still remember the look on your face, love. you looked like you were about to explode." neil chuckled as he reached up to push back a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "i still have the drawing you gave me that day."

"you do?"

"yeah. i keep every single one of them."

you blushed red at neil's confession. you knew he kept the silly drawings you gave him. but you didn't think he kept all of them.

"i kept all of your poems, too. i have them all neatly compiled by date in my drawer."

you looked down again to see neil who was already looking at you, his eyes filled with affection and adoration. his already wide smile grew even wider when you made eye contact with him for the umpteenth time.

"i always read them, you know." you continued, "i read them every time i wake up, every night before bed, every after shower, i like them a lot!"

"i like you a lot." neil admitted with the softest expression on his features, he sat up and gently cupped the back of your neck to give you a kiss laced with love and fondness. your face which was already impossibly red grew to an even darker shade as you two stared at each other, love struck.

at that moment─ all the troubles in the world faded away into obscurity. the pressures and unfairness of life dissipating, leaving only you and neil alone. you hoped it'll stay this way, hoped that no one would take away the happiness and that feeling of content he gave you. hoped that neil would always stay by your side.

© sorencd . 2023 ─ do not copy, repost, translate or claim any of my works as your own.