#i literally woke up and wrote this

[menaceoffandoms]

Fuck it: collage AUs lego monkie kid

Mk is an art student who worked really hard to get a scholarship into the school. Yin and Jin are both in the same course as him, he corrected them about art theory once and they've never let it go so now they torment him in class, and everyone else for that matter. Wukong is there teacher and he is servery under qualified but he dose his best. Mk still works and lives at Pigsy's noodles, which in this is a hot spot for students cause of its close proximity to the uni. Balancing school and a job is a nightmare but he's trying his best.

Mei is in a business/marketing course, she wanted to do something more fun but her parents wanted her to do it, but she's actually really good at it especially whenever they do social media stuff. Princess Iron Fan is her teacher and the Demon accountant is her class mate. Mei and Red Son are roommates, they start off hating eachother but slowly become friends. When Mei finds out PIF is Red's mum she's begs her for baby photos, much to Red's embarrassment. Red Son is on an engineering course and Sandy is his teacher. Mei is a streamer with a pretty large following and she's currently saving for a new parts for her motorbike, which Red will likely end up replacing for her.

Tang is a history teacher at the school. He never shows up to class without a bowl of noodles. The scorpion demon is in his class and has a crush on him, but for obvious reason he's not at all interested! Tangs one love is noodles and noodle making Pigsy's.

Macaque is like a drama teacher or something like that, Mk likes to sit in on his seminars sometimes, and he's made a name for himself as the schools cryptid. He never seems to leave and always shows up in random places, a lot of people think he secretly lives in his classroom. He likes to scare and mess with Wukong a lot, they hate eachother but it's so over the top everyone either thinks there dating or wants them to kiss already.

Bai He is just a kid so she doesn't attend the collage, but she's seen around there a lot. Her pearents are probbaly teachers there, or maybe Macaque is her dad in this who knows, but for awhile some students thought she was a ghost haunting the school.

LBD and the Major either used to be teachers but got fired, or they both work at the school and are the most hated teachers there. LBD would teach law and the Major would do something similar, maybe criminology? Could throw a curve ball and have him teach psychology, that could be funny.

There's too many characters for me to be bothered to list rn so uhhhhh Nuwa is probably head of the school, any gods or celestial warriors are teachers, most demons are probbaly students unless they served a big part in the show (like syntax is probbaly the IT teacher) anddddd if it's not obvious I've never been to a university so I am very unqualified to do anything with this, I'm just having fun.

That being said if anyone dose want to do more with these concepts, go ahead, could be fun

[prettyboykatsuki]

I NEED YOU EXCITED, I DON'T WANNA FIGHT IT | Y. OKKOTSU

✵ tags ; established relationship, friends to lovers, afab +fem!reader, forward!reader, back and forth power dynamics, dry-humping, hickies / marking, cunnilingus, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, riding. fingering, dirty talk, 18+

✵ wc ; 7.3k (good lord)

✵ a/n ; written with my beloved @princess-okkotsu in mind!! i hope i did your boy justice </3 and thank u for everything literally wouldn't have passed chem w/o you

so not used to have such little warnings on a fic. lol. title is from fire and desire by drake.

✵ synopsis ; yuta wants to do right by you which is why he's so determined to take your relationship slowly. well, he tries too, anyway.

Yuta Okkotsu is a believer of doing things the right way. 

He repeats this to himself like a mantra as he hangs out alone in your bedroom. He closes his eyes, elbows resting on the little table, face buried in his palms. Maybe it’s closer to a form of manifestation - like if he says it with enough hooplah it will mean something more than a jumble of words and syllables. 

He must clarify that he is trying to do the right thing right now. He is trying so very hard to do the right thing because Yuta Okkotsu wants to remain righteous where possible. 

It’s part of his job as a sorcerer, now well into his 20’s and more conscious of the world around him. He’s strong enough to put his money where his mouth is and experienced enough to know that trying to maintain some ethical code is part of staying alive in this business. 

And it’s not that Yuta considers himself particularly upright. His friends and colleagues often tell him that he’s a bit unhinged and hard to get a read on. His morals might not always align with greater society, but he never does something that goes against his own beliefs. A lot of which can be summarized quite easily ; anything to defend his comrades.

It really is so important for Yuta to try and be civil in these aspects. Lest he fall into something truly dark. Even he knows what he’s capable of, at least a little. 

That’s why he’s left with no choice than burying all of his thoughts of you and using every ounce of energy he has to suppress it as deep as it can go 

You know, with all the love that’s influenced his life and all of the years he’s spent  learning to be less timid - none of it seems to matter when it comes down to you and him. The logistics of a relationship and the idea of one are two very different things. When it comes to your relationship, he’s been keen in adhering to his strict timeline of milestones. First date, first hand-holding, first deep kiss. It’s a matter of honoring you - because before being boyfriend and girlfriend, you were Yuta’s comrade and companion. Before your relationship status, you're his cherished and valued person. 

So because he’s chivalrous. Because he’s romantic. Because he cares about you. 

And also because the sheer  magnitude of his desires for you perpetually leaves him in a state of distress and disarray. It’s all of the above, all at the same time. And sometimes it leaves him a little overwhelmed. 

He barely manages in his daily life but this? This is torturous. 

Being in your bedroom unprompted is destroying every ounce of self-restraint he’s built through these last three months. He’s made it through your relentless bullying without giving into his Earthly desires.

It’s just too ideal in a way, being in here. Everything feels like you. There’s pictures of your friends and family around the room. Everything has your scent. Your clothes are littered on the floor and hung over the back of your desk-chair. It’s so you and Yuta loves you and he’s not going to survive being in here despite it all.

It’s embarrassing. Yuta is not the timid teenager he once was. But for all the ways he’s good at standing his ground, his demeanor is all but worthless when it comes down to you.

You’re a few years his senior and you’ve always been a slippery character. He’s enriched by your curiosity of the world. You’re a researcher and archivist of cursed information, coming out of the Kyoto branch. You have plenty of accolades and always manage to teach him something new and come out of difficult things on top. 

Mostly, Yuta recognizes all of the good in your heart. He really thinks very highly of you.

There was an obvious passion for your work that Yuta was endeared by in the initial stages of your relationship. Plus you were easy to talk to. You’ve been a good friend to Yuta for years now, ever since you called on him to do some research on him and Rika. And, as the years passed you became closer until one night it hit him that his feelings of admiration were a little closer to something like love. 

And with big, wet tears in his eyes (and a fair bit of liquor in his system) he blubbered about his feelings for you. He isn’t sure what reaction he was expecting at the time. You were happy which was great, but there was also something so lax about it all. Yuta remembers it so vividly. The way you waltzed up to him, tucked some hair behind his ears and kissed him gingerly with all the confidence in the world. Like it mattered but it didn’t. Like nothing could be more obvious than your feelings for each other. 

“I’m pretty crazy about you too, Okkotsu-san.” 

After asking if that meant you were dating like the bumbling, lovesick fool he is - you officially began going out as a couple. And at first, it was smooth sailing. It wasn’t too different from your usual hangouts.

Eventually though, you had pointed out that it doesn’t really feel like you were dating. Suggested that maybe sleeping together would help break the ice a little. That was what started this moral dilemma. 

Being honest, it wasn’t like Yuta hadn’t considered it. What thoughts he cooked up while alone in the sanctity of his bedroom is between him and the heavens only. It was just the way you suggested it. You saying it made it all feel so real. And Yuta wasn’t sure how to deal with that. He wants to cherish you so much that he felt like he couldn’t consider your offer too lightly. 

And he told you as much, hand in yours and red-faced to which you only blew some hair out of his eyes and laughed. A simple okay, a nod, and a kiss.

Of course, if everything had been smooth sailing this would be a different thing altogether. While Yuta had declined sleeping with you too soon, you had absolutely no plans to make his life easy. He’s not sure how much of it is on purpose. Knowing you, probably a lot. You’re a smart girl, after all.

So all of your bending over and tongue kissing before going home and selfies that just border on boudoir are probably very purposeful. But he’s endured it all. He should cherish you more. He’s been determined to not give in. 

The fact he’s all but ready to blow his load over just being in your room makes him feel pathetic. And maybe he is, a little. But only for you. 

Yuta likes to think of himself as a collected individual. Really.  He knows being this worked up over something as innocuous as his girlfriends room is ridiculous. He knows he’s being ridiculous.

But he really, really wants to uphold his beliefs here. So he’s stiff, sitting with his hands clasped and holding it together just barely. 

He practically jumps out of his skin when you return to your room with a tray of refreshments. 

“Woah, Yuta. You okay?”

He turns around to look at you. A mistake, apparently. His eyes land on the sight of your bare legs before he forces himself to meet your eyes. You’re so pretty to him. Always so beautiful without any effort. 

“Huh? Yeah. Sorry, just got lost in thought.”

You put the tray down on the table in front of him before sitting on the edge of your bed - facing him. The distance between you is minimal. You reach out to pet the top of his head with the palm of your hand, scratching his jaw tenderly. Yuta feels loved by the touch. 

“You sure? Looks like you saw a ghost.”

Your genuine worry makes his spine feel like it’ll melt. He puts his hands over yours, rubbing his cheek against your palm.

“Promise I’m okay. Just—it's nothing serious.” 

“Mm. Even if it’s nothing serious, I wanna know what stuff you’re worried about, ‘kay? So tell me if you want.”

He feels unsteady but so happy. 

“Thank you, my love.”

“Yeah, of course. You wanna keep sitting on the floor or…?”

The minute you ask him, he feels the hair stand up on his neck. 

“The bed…?”

You give him a look of confusion before you break out into a knowing grin.

“Oh, I forgot. I mean to remain chaste, my liege. Just wanna cuddle a bit.”

“Are you making fun of me?” He asks, not masking the pout in his voice. 

You tilt your head to one side, leaning  back on your palms. 

“A little,” You say mischievously, shrugging “I’m used to your lifestyle of celibacy.” 

He frowns at you. “It’s not like that, I just want to—“

“I just want to cherish you because I love you and want you for more than sex yadda yadda yadda. I know. And I respect your wishes even if I think it’s silly.” You say, taking the words right out of his mouth. His frown deepens.

“It’s not silly to me.” He says, almost petulantly. At this, you grab his face in your hands which catches him off-guard. You knock your forehead against his, bent over to do it. 

“I know that too, you dummy. The point is that I’m not trying to get in your pants right now.”

He can’t help but smile, pulling away to kiss at your wrist. You giggle. 

“Well, what do you want?”

“To be wrapped up in each other like otters.”

“So romantic.”

“Right? So get up here.” 

He gives in sooner rather than later. You scoot till your back is along the wall next to your bed and Yuta wastes no more time in joining you. Your bed is crazy comfortable. Just laying it in makes him want to fall asleep almost immediately. He gets cozy  before directing his gaze to you in front of him. He feels like he’s gonna throw up and the only thing that’ll come out is his heart. You give him a look of amusement. 

“Enjoying the view?” You tease. He laughs, leaning forward to tuck his face into your neck.

“Yeah. Smells like you,” 

“So cute.” 

“Don’t know how to feel about being called cute.” He says honestly. He peers up at you and you’re giggling and he can feel his heart rate sky-rocket. You twirl a piece of his hair around your index finger. 

“You’re cute and cool and handsome. Better?” 

“Yeah. Yes.” 

“Mm,” You respond. He looks at you as your expression drifts off somewhere. He can’t take his eyes away from your face “Sorry you had to stay over.” 

“It’s fine. It’d be a shame if you didn’t get anything to look over while we were there. If you make any breakthroughs, it’d be good for Gojo-sensei.” 

“You still call him that even though you graduated so many years ago?”

He flushes slightly. 

“Force of habit. My point stands.” 

“Mhm. Thanks for being so supportive. I didn’t think it was that late, y’know? I would’ve tried to hurry if I knew,” You say thoughtfully “But I like having you over.” 

He gives you a once over as he pulls away, eyes flitting to your lips. You give him a small grin. 

“Kiss me.” 

He looks at you apologetically. 

“That’s not fair. We can’t kiss? Making out doesn’t count as intimate relations, Yuta.” 

“Okay, but it can lead to them.” 

“If it’s that serious, I’ll sleep on the couch.” 

“Wait, no.” 

“Then kiss me.” 

He sighs. 

“Just kissing, okay?” 

“Okay, you monk.” 

He laughs at the comment before pressing his lips to yours tenderly. You have no such intent of leaving it that way - your hand on immediately on the nape of his neck. The softness of your tongue makes Yuta feel like there’s fizz in his head - like the water inside of him is seltzer. He thought you would at least try to give him some mercy. 

He probably shouldn’t expect that from his favorite girl. He pulls away, out of breath. A little line of saliva breaks off between you. Your grin is eye-catching, like glass in the sun. Yuta wouldn’t mind burning in the magnitude of your light. 

“Just kissing,” He emphasizes, trying to be firm. You hum, hand on his cheek. You rub your thumb on his lip tenderly, looking at him square in the eyes. He’s stronger than this, he swears. 

“We are just kissing though?” 

“Baby.” He frowns. A laugh bubbles up from your stomach and he’s so entranced by it he nearly forgets what he’s trying to convince you of. 

“Since when is making out too naughty? Teenagers do stuff like that, Yuta. We’re grown-ups.” 

“That’s the whole problem.” He says back in faux exasperation. You look like you’re going to kiss him again, but you lean into his ear instead. Your breath is warm and ticklish against his skin. 

“Yuta,” You murmur with such clear intent he feels himself break down under the weight “Can’t we have sex, hm?” 

Blood rushes down to his dick so fast he’s embarrassed. He stares at you as you pull away, a look  in your eyes that makes him want to collapse. Of course he does. He wants to have so much sex with you so often it’s starting to drive him up a wall. Is there anyone in the world other than him masochistic enough to turn down the offer? He’s doubtful to say the least. 

“I want to,” He admits. You beam and nod. Your hand slides down to squeeze his waist. He swallows thickly. 

“Yeah? Then why can’t we?” 

“I just..don’t want to rush things,” He replies with as much conviction as he possibly can. The sincerity must reach you because you soften a little “We’ve known each other for a long time. And it was already hard to get here. I just want to make sure it’s right.” 

“You’re so thoughtful,” You murmur to him, running over his hip bone with your thumb “And that makes you really sexy, you know?” 

“What if it gets all messed up?” 

“Our relationship is stronger than that, yeah. It can withstand a handjob.” 

He groans at your vulgarity before laughing. 

“I’m being serious!” 

“I know and that’s so sweet of you. But I really, really don’t think it’ll be that bad if we have sex. We might fuck like rabbits for a few days but that’s not really the end of the world.” 

He feels heat creep up his next as you nuzzle your nose against his, whispering softly. 

“And doesn’t that sound nice? Cooped up in this little room, fucking each others brains out. Just you and me.” 

He feels his dick steel against his will. He looks at you seriously, a fire in his expression. 

“You’re being unfair.”  

“Who, me? Never. I’m just telling you what I think.” 

He groans in complaint. Is this the right thing to do? He doesn’t think so. But it’s not like he doesn’t want to. He really, really wants to have sex and there’s never been such a perfect opportunity. You’re a little too good at turning him on and he’s a little too pent up to think about it more clearly. It feels like the only thing he can think about, a side-effect of this whole conundrum. There is a right way to go about this and he can’t say for certain yours isn’t the one. 

Plus the vivid picture you’ve painted of the two of you fucking in a room for hours is making his whole body burn up with lust. Fuck, the things he could do to you in all that time without it ever being enough. 

Yuta didn’t know he was aching for you so badly until he was this close to having you. 

“Baby,” He can feel how deep his voice is getting. It’s taking all of his strength to keep it in. 

“How do you want me? Tell me. You’ve been thinking about me right?”

“Always,” He confesses, staring at you without any restraint “Always thinking of you.”  

“Doing what?”

Oh. This is… 

Oh.

“I’ve never seen you naked.”

“Then you daydream about seeing me naked? How tame.” 

“It’s more than that, it’s—I want to make you feel good. You’re so good to me. And I wanna…”

You stare at him. You’re so cheeky. 

“You wanna?”

“Want you to feel good. But because of me. All because of me.”

A wave of heat passes through him. He looks at you and you look...different. You look turned on, fingers carding through his hair. Right now all Yuta can think about is how much he wants. A word with so much weight behind it he can hardly keep up. God doesn’t Yuta want you more than he’s ever wanted anything. 

The room feels like it’s hotter than it was a few seconds last. A thick tension spreads over everything like jam. Yuta is too dazed to do anything. He can only watch as you sit up. You guide him to lay on his back and climb on top of him with ease. Your thighs feel warm and soft as you straddled him, taking his hands to put them on your waist.

He slides them up underneath your shirt lightly, enough to feel the warmth of your skin on his calloused fingers. Your eyes lock as you lean forward the slightest bit, caging Yuta in with your hand next to his head. 

“So possessive,” You tease, seeing right through him like you usually do. He really is. He thought he was a little better at hiding it “Already all yours, Yuta.” 

That makes his dick twitch. You must feel it because you laugh at him about it and his hands grip even tighter. He’s gonna lose his mind, being swept up by you so easily. He’s gotten so used to forfeiting restraint. Always goes in head first because that’s how cowards have to learn to fight. But he’s forgotten how to hold back. How to suppress. 

Right now, he feels like an animal. He feels like a restless hound dog, straining against the spiked collar he’s tried to keep himself in place. What does that make you, he wonders? 

In an attempt at transparency, he looks at you and says “I want you so much.”

And your reply is about all the permission he needs. 

“Then take me,” 

Yuta heeds your words and takes. It’s easy to flip you both over from where you are. He mumbles an apology as you yelp in surprise - and he hopes you’ll forgive him for his impatience. He’s been picturing this for months now. He knows what he wants, and that’s you on your back with him on top of you - making you feel so fucking good you can’t stand it. He slots his legs between yours, hovering over you as your bodies press into each other. 

You wrap your arms around Yutas neck with ease and he leans in to kiss you passionately. Despite where you are, it’s clear you're helping set the pace. Yuta is eager to follow. It starts off slow enough but when you pull away once, you're opening your mouth enough to let him in deeper. You stick your tongue out and Yuta follows suit. Everything is so hot he feels like it’ll burn, and you taste like mint toothpaste. He likes swapping spit with you like this, the messy way the drool runs down his chin and yours like you can’t get enough for each other. 

He has no idea how long you stay like that. Just kissing is a dangerous game. The nip of your mouth and the press of your incisors in his lower lip leave him shuddering. His hard cock is pressed against your abdomen, and he can’t help himself but hump into the soft plush of your tummy. Even through the stiff material of his jeans he can feel you. 

He quivers and whimpers into your mouth but you swallow the noise with delight. Your fingers find themself at the nape of his hand reaching up, tugging at the root. You pull away to give him a chance to breathe. He sounds pathetic, he knows it, but fuck he can’t hold it in anymore. Your voice is cool and collected yet rich and heady. It feels like a salve to his raw nerves, calming to him. He closes his eyes and humps into you and everything feels like it’ll disappear. Yuta just wants to give into his base needs. He wants to be all yours as much as he wants you to be all his and everything is so tangled up in his mind. 

“That feel good, Yuta?” 

“Y-yeah. Yes. Oh, yes.” 

You giggle at him a little and Yuta looks up at you. Look at the swell of your lips and the flush and sheen on your skin. Too much, too much, too much. 

But not enough at the same time, he rubs his cock against you again, harder. 

“So pent up,” You comment smoothly and Yuta groans in agreement “Why don’t I help you a little?” 

Unsure of what you mean, he stares at you hazily. You push him off, making him stand to his knees and he watches you as your hands come to the ends of your shirt. You pull it off over your head and toss it somewhere. You have nothing on underneath. His mouth dries out almost completely. Bare skin of your shoulders and the curve of your neck and your chest so open. Your nipples are hard against the cool air, standing to attention.

Your b0dy is so much sexier than he could’ve conjured up in his head. The real thing doesn’t even compare, and the way you move as you take off the rest is so fucking mesmerizing. Yuta watches you take off your pants next -  you put your legs up to slide them off. 

There’s not a single part of you that Yuta doesn’t want to claim for himself. He traces the outline of your legs, the bend of your knee and the arch of your foot. He should worship you, after all - he was right for trying to restrain it before. If he had this in the beginning, he’s afraid of what kind of person he might become. He’s scared of it even now.

 Yuta is of course the type of man to get sick on his own devotion. He’s always been like that. That’s what the rings on his hands always mean. He wants to make himself sick on you. 

Nothing could be more intense than just watching you undress, he doesn't think. You toss your shorts somewhere, but leave your panties on. Yuta still has his clothes on. The only barrier between you now is a thin layer of cotton. There’s a damp spot on it. He can’t stop his hand from reaching out, pressing into it with his thumb as gently as he can. You gasp. His eyes go wide. 

“It’s okay,” You assure, a smile on your face “Just wasn’t expecting it.”

He hums, dumbstruck, and smooths his thumb over the seam. There’s something salacious about the boundary itself. The material that’s keeping him from just taking you. 

“C-can you leave them on..? For a bit?” He asks. You blink twice. Even if you’re confused, there’s not any judgment. Yuta really does love you. 

“Uh-huh. If you want me too,”  

You give him the floor this time, Yuta thinks. He takes his shirt off too. He doesn’t take his jeans off completely, though. Only unzips them, pushing them down past his boxers to give him some breathing room. And with that he’s back on top of you. He presses a gentle kiss to your lips but moves down towards your jaw. The little fluttery sigh that leaves you makes everything close in around him. Like it’s only you two in the entire world. He leaves them down your neck, down your collarbone and sternum. Warm open mouth kisses trying all over every inch of you. 

His hands shake as he reaches out for your chest. You chuckle and reach for him. Guide them to squeeze your tits firm, a cheeky look in your eye. He tries to take more confidence in it now. Gropes the fat between his fingers, palms over your nipples in appreciation. He’s entranced by it, pushing them together and teasing the hardened buds with the pads of his fingers.

“So pretty,” He mumbles, mostly to himself “You’re so pretty,” 

“You’re pretty too, Yuta.” 

He can feel a blush crawl up his skin. He ducks his head down to take your nipples into his mouth. You let out a soft moan of pleasure that encourages him to suck harder on one and use his fingers to tease you where his mouth can’t reach. Your sighs are shaky and you're gently losing your composure.

 He wants to shatter you completely. 

He grabs your thighs and encourages you to wrap your legs around his waist. And you do with his guidance, a well of desire about to burst within him. He adjusts until his cock is snug against your clothed cunt. A broken oh, leaves your lips and Yuta humps into you, shifting until he hits the sweet spot. Your voice sounds again, pitchy and melodic like a wind chime and that’s when Yuta knows he has it. 

He has you right where he wants you now. Bodies pressed into each other and so involved, so together. Yuta can feel you everywhere. He’s always been in sync with you but every notch is turned to ten. The shallow rise and fall of your stomach, the slightest tenseness in your spine that melt away when he gives you a little attention. He has you in his grasp but he wants to hold onto you tighter. He feels like he’s been struck by lightning, the way his nerves are revved up.

He focuses on where your lower bodies meet, tongue poked between his lips and furrow in his brow. Drives his clothed, hard cock against your cunt, catching the crown into your clit until you’re shaking underneath him. There’s something so primal about it that Yuta can’t take it. He can’t think clearly anymore, lost in the feeling of dull pleasure. If it feels so good like this, being inside you might be too much. You’re both naked mostly except for where you both need each other. So close in proximity that Yuta can hear each of your short pants. Erratic and almost thoughtlessly driven by one single thing, pleasing you. Feeling each other, all wrapped up together. There’s something romantic about the mutual desperation. 

Drawing out those moans as he sucks at your tits, making you feel how hard he is. How pent up and needy and fucking horny he is all for you. 

Just humping your soft, sweet little cunt through your panties makes Yuta want to risk everything he’s got. The push and pull of too much and  not enough at the same time.  It’s so fucking euphoric. Your fabric keeps wetter and wetter, and Yuta doesn’t know if it’s you or him - his pre-cum dribbling through his boxers. Mixing together so that there’s less friction than there should be, material all soaked through and tacky. 

He can feel your pussy pulse and tremble. Your spine goes stiff and Yuta pulls away to look at you. You’re beautiful. You’re on edge, in complete bliss and so fucking beautiful. 

“Oh, oh, Yuta - shit, like that. G-gonna, gonna,” 

He doesn’t know what overtakes him, but he babbles on pulling away. 

“Cum for me, please—fuck, baby, p-please, need it,” 

You cum the first time just like that. For Yuta, humping each other like two lovesick teenagers. All for him you get all broken. He can’t help but burn the image of you underneath in his head forever. He needs to see it all again. 

“Oh, that felt so fucking good,” The praise feels like it’s being injected into his bloodstream“You make me feel sho good,” 

The slight slur in your words and praise all together makes him too happy. He kisses you, sloppy and lovedrunk, tongues touching and teeth chattering. 

“You’re everything I’ve ever wanted,” Yuta says with as much conviction as any one man could have. You laugh so loud it makes him smile. “I don’t wish well for anyone you dated before me.”  And you laugh again even louder. 

“You sound polite even when you’re threatening people.”  You say with nothing but affection. Yuta wants more. He wants you. Even with this quiet lull, he’s thinking about how he can get you to cum again. 

He nudges his nose to your cheek, kissing the corner of your mouth before he talks. 

“I want you to do it again,” He states, slow and steady, trying to feel out your willingness “And then I want to fuck you,”

“Wanna fuck me after you make me a mess?” You say, much more bluntly than he has. You’re not wrong “Are you a sadist after all, Yuta?”

“You look good when you’re messy. ‘s not my fault.” He replies, a little bite to his words. This delights you to the point he's proud. He does his best not to look uncool and this one time he’s succeeded. 

“Make a mess of me, Yuta,” You encourage, probably because you know he needs it. And he does “I want it.” 

“Yeah,” Comes his reply, as he pulls himself off of you “Me too,” 

The pace slows down now. The room smells of sex and Yuta can still feel the blood rushing in his ears but nothing so frantic. He lays you back, your legs undoing from behind him and resting. Yuta kisses your sternum first, a wave of emotion running through him. He puts his hands on your sides, sliding them down to meet your hips and squeezing tight. 

He kisses his down your body like it’s nothing to be embarrassed about. He can feel you curl in above him - not completely. But you seem a little astonished, and he'd be lying if he said it didn’t make him feel like he accomplished something. He works his way lower slowly, rubbing small circles into your skin as often as he can. Caressing you and committing your body to memory. He wants you to feel him as much as he’s feeling you, to feel his touch. The tension in the air is strengthened by his silence. 

If he were saying anything it’d be something like this. Like can you feel it? how much i love you? or i want all of you. Things he can’t often muster up the strength to say. He’s good with his words but not good enough to communicate all of it so bluntly. Yuta is brave in areas other than love. Sometimes your adoration makes all the words clog in his throat. This is better for him, the physicality brings him peace of mind. 

He likes how you feel. Your skin is much softer when he compares it to his, feels so different and more plush and comfortable. Yuta likes taking you in his hands and kneading the skin gently enough to relax you. Lower and lower, a trail of wet marks until he’s close to your clothed cunt. He stares at the sticky material, kissing it feather light before redirecting his attention to your thighs. 

He starts again, at the bend of your knee - and works his way inward. He’s rougher now, taking time to mark up your inner thigh with precision. Yuta can’t help himself, placing kisses in the last places his teeth bit you. He does it again and again, up along one thigh and then moving to the other until you’re covered in them. 

You’re trembling with anticipation. A sense of contentment washes over Yuta as his breath fans over your cunt, so completely soaked the fabrics a different color. His tongue runs over the material, a shameless moan of pleasure leaving his mouth. You arch your back, hands reaching to take root in his hair. The sensation of tension on his scalp makes his cock twitch. It’s salty and a little bitter, the mix of his pre-cum and yours altogether. Yuta goes to do it again anyway. The mess of it gets him excited, unconsciously rubbing into the sheets underneath him. 

“O-oh, Yuta.” 

He shivers, hands planing over the tops of your thighs as he brings him down close to him. 

“Yeah, yeah baby. Just me and you,” 

A soft laugh leaves your mouth. Yuta can feel how worked up you are. You’re quiet and tense. Some part of him wants to leave you like that waiting, but the other part of him wants to give you everything you’ve ever asked for. He gives into the latter, because that’s what he wants more. Rolls the fabric off of your legs with a deep sigh, a pleased hum. He loves the way you smell, the scent of sex and arousal mixed with the fancy soaps you keep in your bathroom. Your pussy is as pretty as you are, a sheen of arousal all along your slit. Your clit peeks through, swelled from need. Yuta kisses it without thinking. 

He starts slow. Lays his tongue flat against the seam of your cunt before dragging it up. The taste of you covers his mouth, tangy and slightly sweet - Yuta can’t get enough of you. He moans in appreciation, repeating the gesture as he pulls your pussy close. His nose bumps into your sex. He peers up at you with his lashes. You’re so pretty it makes him want to please. He repeats this over and over - licking at your clit with enthusiasm. Your clit is hard and needy, throbbing against the soft, smooth muscle of his tongue as he gains a sort of rhythm. He gauges your reaction when he tries something new, adding pressure until you’re squirming underneath him. When you start growing noisier, Yuta knows he’s hit the right pace. 

And he stays like that, your pussy soaking his mouth and chin. He adjusts himself slightly, rubbing his fingers between your folds. You let out a soft oh above him, making him want to laugh. He keeps at it, his fingers sliding far enough to tease your entrance. Your hole is twitching without him having done much at all, his middle finger teasing and prodding. 

“Don’t t-tease so much,”  You pant. 

Yuta nearly blows his load listening to you talk like that. He didn’t think you could be so cute. He listens though, pushing his middle finger into you with ease. It doesn’t take too much effort. Your insides are so incredibly wet for him. Your walls are so soft and inviting, syrupy to the touch. Yuta loves feeling them. He gives you time to adjust to the new sensation, fucking in and out slow enough that the tension melts. He gets knuckle deep with his middle finger and when it doesn’t seem like you’re tense anymore - he goes and adds another. 

He does both in tandem - and there’s a period where it’s all a bunch of sensation for you. Eventually it stops being just a feeling, turns into pleasure. He curls his fingers up against you hard, rubbing the soft and spongy area and he can feel you practically lurch forward. Your spine arches, mouth dropped open in a soft ‘o’. Another feeling of pride spreads through his chest, his whole body. He wants you to let go again just like this. While he fingers your weepy cunt and with your clit in his mouth - he wants to see how far he can push. How wet you can get before he ever gets inside. 

Yuta isn’t one for competition or ego. He’s always been easy-going. But something about you being underneath him like this, moaning for him like this - makes him feel like he should put in a little more effort to prove himself. He wants to make you feel so good, wants to see your composure break down steadily. He wants you praise him for it, to fuck each other like animals in the thereafter of your second orgasm. He pushes towards that goal steadfastly, and soon enough your body catches up with him. 

Yuta can practically feel your stomach tighten. You let out a noise, a string of mismatched syllables like a warning. Yuta only hums in encouragement, keeping his pace exactly the same. Feeling it is incredible. His fingers can feel the way your walls tighten up so hard and the tremors of the aftermath. 

Your back curves in a C as you cum, hard for him and he can feel it. He can feel you cum. He can see you, see the pleasure crash into you like a tidal wave. A second. Yuta made you cum twice in a row and he’s already itching to do it a third. 

You practically pry him off as you ride the wave of your high. You sigh deeply, and Yuta licks his fingers. He waits for your adoration, pleased to receive as you pull him up for a kiss. 

“You’re so fucking good, Yuta,” You say and Yuta feels his resolve crumble. He needs to fuck you immediately “So, so good to me baby.” 

He whimpers into your mouth. “I need you.”

You laugh breathlessly, your hand reaching between your bodies to squeeze his cock. Yuta shudders and you giggle to yourself. 

“Yeah. Bet you’re feeling pent up, Yuta. How about I treat you this time? That okay?” 

“Treat me?” 

“By riding you,” You say, smiling at him. He gets chills from the offer “You want that?” 

“Oh. Oh, fuck - please. Please?” 

You smile at him. 

“Lay on your back, sweet boy.” 

Sweet boy. He swallows thickly but does as you say. Lays back and watches you climb over him a second time tonight - this time with a much more obvious intent. He can’t stop thinking about how gorgeous he finds you - no matter how many times he sees you, it’s not easy to get used to. 

You sit up on his lap, naked and beautiful, your hangs tugging down his boxers just enough to free his cock. He hisses at the sensation of air, then moans because your hand squeezed around the shaft. Yuta watches, bewitched, by how you spit into the palm of your hands and let it drip down onto his cock. You stroke until he’s covered in it, saliva making a mess of him. When he’s all wet, you scoot forward just slightly. A hand ends up on his chest as you pull your hips up. 

Guiding the tip to your hole, you sink down on Yuta finally. He can only recognize loosely that there’s no condoms to be seen but he doesn’t find it in himself to care. There’s a slight sensation of tension that quickly gives away to nothing but slick, white-hot pleasure. You feel amazing. It’s not like anything he’s ever felt in his entire life and each time you drop down another inch - he’s biting his cheek trying not to cum immediately. That’d be such a waste, even if you’ve promised to fuck like rabbits - Yuta wants to make this last long. 

You lower yourself steadily until all of him is inside. Your expression is slightly pinched, and your whole body trembles before you finally seem comfortable. You lean forward, your hand next to Yuta’s head as you look at him. 

“Cum when you feel like you need to, ‘kay?” 

Yuta just swallows. 

Before he gets a chance to adjust to the feeling, you pick your hips and slam them back down on his cock without breaking a sweat. Yuta nearly screams, his hands immediately shooting to your hips to try and slow you down. You give him a wry grin, He almost wants to plead for your mercy. 

“Want me to go slower?” 

“Please be nice.” 

You giggle but heed his request. Repeating the motion but slower as promised, you rock yourself steadily onto Yuta’s cock. The pace is controlled and smooth, a rhythmic pass of your hips over and over. Your insides feel like they’ll melt him completely, make him liquid from the inside out. You’re picturesque riding him, tits bouncing and leaned forward enough that Yuta can see the concentration on your face. He watches you find your own pleasure in it too - somewhere half-way between grinding and bouncing that makes you look so good. He feels so incredible like this. 

He moves his hands so they’re grabbing your ass and only moves with you slightly. Not enough to change the pace, but to meet you. The room is filled with the sound of skin hitting skin - a tacky smack as your bounces hard enough to hit Yutas thighs. Something about is so vulgar, but something about is so sensual. He can feel every nerve in his body standing on edge. Your hand moves gently between your bodies to tease your clit as you ride and Yuta can’t help but be impressed by your stamina. He feels so spoiled. Feels so mind-numbingly good he wants to go brain dead while you drain for everything he’s got. 

Your expression is blissed out as you hit your stride, absolutely debauched. He can feel you again, another rush of arousal. He’s getting better at telling when you’re close. Your pussy is so sloppy all for him, because of him. So messy that it’s dripping down his cock onto his balls, all over the sheets underneath you. He can feel you clench in anticipation - the sudden spasming in the build up. 

“Gonna cum again and I want you cum right after me, yeah baby? Can you do that?” 

Yuta groans. 

“Pleasepleaseplease.” Is all he can make out. You laugh, breathy. Your pace is still the same as you rub your clit. The third time you cum is less intense. It’s a shorter wave, a softer sort of orgasm that seems to ease you more than it does anything else. Even still, you clench around his cock hard - getting so much wetter than you were a minute ago. 

It’s in the tremors that Yuta finally feels in touch with himself again. He loses himself completely. Finally giving into the sensation that’s been drowning him, He feels it in his entire lower body. Every atom of him finally catching up to the high of the release. It’s so intense when he opens his mouth nothing comes out. His eyes shoot open then go back closed. The coil in his stomach loosens more slowly at first than all at once, like a car crash. When Yuta finally cums he sees nothing but white stars in his vision. He can’t scream, can’t speak - so he holds onto you tight and finishes to the sound of your gentle coaxing. Your voice is shot hoarse as you coo to him.

“That’s it baby, cum for me. That’s it, there you go.” Echoes around in his head. Cum spurts out of him, thick and hot in your walls and he doesn’t even try to pull out as he goes completely limp underneath you. 

When he opens his eyes back up again, you're both just as ragged as each other. Yuta can’t stop himself from laughing. He hugs you tight to his chest as you lay on top of him - naked bodies and tangled limbs. 

“I love you,” Yuta says blearily. You laugh. 

“I love you too, Yuta.” 

__ 

After you and Yuta manage the energy to shower, you find yourselves back in bed. It’s late when you’re finally ready to sleep, being in the same positions you were before. Only this time with new sheets. 

Yuta lets you into his arms, wrapping them around you as you nuzzle into his chest. 

“So. Was it worth breaking your rules?” 

Yuta can’t help but break out into laughter at your question. He nods his head, a flush on his expression. 

“Yeah. Yeah it was.” 

[myokk]

Sebastian Sallow's List of Priorities (in no particular order):

Figure out what the hell I'm going to do when I graduate;

Figure out how the hell I'm going to finish this bloody Charms essay before tomorrow; and

Figure out what the hell is going on between us

Sebastian sits in an undisturbed corner of the library - nobody ever comes to this table because it's tucked away between shelves of incredibly dense magical theory books - and is twirling his quill in his fingers, watching the ink splatter on the list he spent his precious time writing instead of the Charms essay he should be working on. He's far away from the first-years who like to congregate by the windows and watch the leaves fall softly to the ground rather than study for their classes. He's made especially sure that he is far, far away from her.

It's not his choice, mind you, but he needs to be a gentleman about these things. If she needs some time and space to figure out that she's as crazy for him as he is her, fine. But even Sebastian Sallow's patience runs thin, and he's not sure how much longer he can give her to come to her senses before he snaps and takes matters into his own hands. If things were up to him, the two of them would be sitting far too close together now in this secluded corner, and maybe he would need to put a hand over her mouth to ensure her complete silence as he runs a hand up her thigh.

Now that he knows what delicious sounds can come out of her mouth - sounds that he caused - he's been having a hard time concentrating on, well, anything. Sebastian surreptitiously glances across the library to where she's sitting and studying with his sister and Imelda. Ever since the events after their Divination class, Sir Cadogan has taken it upon himself to follow Sebastian around the halls of the castle, tripping through frames and disrupting their inhabitants as he lectures Sebastian on love. The tea party women had managed to convince the knight that he had disrupted an amorous exchange, and Sebastian fervently wishes they hadn't.

The whole school is abuzz with rumors about who it could be. Nobody has even come close so far with their guesses, but Anne and Imelda are having too much fun teasing him about it. Somehow, she has managed to avoid suspicion - he wonders how this is even possible, since she's never been able to hide what she's thinking. He makes eye contact with her - has she been staring at him this whole time? - and she flushes before looking over to Imelda, who's laughing too loudly at something Anne's just said. Sebastian can't tear his eyes away from her profile, his eyes following the curve of her eyebrow, the slight upturn of her lips as she smiles at her friends, her eyes as they dart back to him, her cheeks as she turns an even darker shade of red as she realizes he's still watching her. She tucks a lock of hair behind her ear, and rests her chin on her hand as she tries to look absorbed in what Anne is saying to her.

Sebastian wonders if she's thought about him as much as he's thought about her. Judging by how she had snogged him back, he's positive that she feels the same way, but then he remembers how she had looked at him before she fled, and he's not so sure. He sighs as he looks back to his list, bringing his quill back to the third item and ripping the paper as he crosses it out again. His mind has been going in circles since that moment and he doesn't know what to think. He slowly puts everything into his schoolbag before heading out of the library for yet another freezing cold shower that hopefully tempers his now-permanent state of arousal whenever she's around.

He doesn't notice her eyes following him as he walks out of the library.

He doesn't hear her hurried excuse to Anne and Imelda as she shoves her things into her bag and rushes to follow him.

He doesn't hear her light footsteps as she gets closer to him.

When she puts a hand out to touch his arm as he waits for the moving staircase to stop, with a soft, "Sebastian" accompanying it, he nearly jumps out of his skin. He was so absorbed with thoughts of her, that to see her standing at his side, closer than she had been since they kissed was almost his snapping point.

"Can we talk?" she asks, looking almost embarrassed as she avoids his eyes. She instead looks determinedly at his collar. He thinks she probably notices that he swallows nervously before acquiescing, but she says nothing as she turns and starts hurrying away from him without waiting to see if he follows her.

She must know that he would follow her anywhere at this point.

from my oneshot🫶🫶🫶

I just really wanted to draw these two idiots😭💘

[zsagu]

hes insane. love him

[vaguely-concerned]

I think the most defining thing about kremy as a person is that he desperately wants to be a man with a mustache -- while being physically, biologically incapable of producing hair follicles lol. like no wonder he takes to drag so much, that's basically most of what he's already doing with his outward identity! and the physical aspect of that is smaller, I feel, than what he's got going on psychologically. he's someone who doesn't want to be -- can't be? -- who and what he is, and who can't be what he wants to be because what he wants to be doesn't really exist, so he lives his life somewhere on the border between them. the almiraj might be no mirage, but the perfectly clever and charming and utterly untouchable version of kremy that kremy would like to be -- instead of the vulnerable neurotic mess of longing and fear and striving for control he clearly actually is -- absolutely is, I'm afraid. it's just a shadow on the wall with nothing real to cast it.

(all of this also goes into the many Gender and trans readings of him too, of course! men will say they’re fighting demons and the demons are trying to live up to a very specific brand of toxic masculinity they've sort of invented for themselves lol)  

the one deep down entrenched assumption we see kremy make again and again especially interpersonally is that if he's open with who he really is and what he feels or thinks at any given time, he would be revealed as fundamentally unacceptable and at best discarded and abandoned, at worst endangered. (it's literally spelled out with the cyclops in the witchlight carnival, but you see him go through this process all the time through the rest of the story too! being unable to lie or dissemble was a catastrophic event in this dude’s inner landscape. I’m sure that means nothing) and because he is also frequently kind of awful this assumption may not be entirely off base some of the time lol (deeply affectionate), but I think it comes from a much deeper place than that. kremy is ashamed of where he's from and who he's been -- that dirt poor wide-eyed kid from the swamp who saw all the fancy gentlemen in town and Wanted. wanted to be that, wanted to have that power, probably some confused sexuality want mixed up with it all as well for spice. wanted more than anything, perhaps, to BE something, because next to that he feels like nothing. which means abandoning the earnest kid who guilelessly loved unicorns and his meemaw and cooking without meaning to impress anyone and silly soft things in the swamp he came from while he went off to the big city and modeled himself after men like garou. (and his relationship with garou surely also had some effects on just how shifty he's become at intimacy too, aside from the building a facade of it all, that might be some secondary damage that was not his fault nor in his control at all)

even when he's acting seemingly shamelessly, he is fundamentally a shame-based psychology, is what I'm trying to get at. the only times he lets his thoughts and emotions out into the world unfiltered is when he's brought to a point of frustration where he throws up his hands and abandons manipulation or subtle machinations as an interpersonal tactic -- see: the several times he argues something with frost or gricko and then finally admits 'I literally don't actually care about this! you guys figure it out and deal with this if it matters so much to you I'm going to bed ffs' haha. his depression shines through when he’s too tired to hide it, especially in the later episodes. every open emotion is an admission he really didn't want to make and thinks is tactically disadvantageous for him. (and sometimes when he's being really for real he'll even admit to being worse than people gave him credit for, like when he admits he suspected mr. witch and mr. light were capable of doing something really really bad to torbek and handed him over anyway. kremy being that blunt and open is like. remarkable and also a sign that he's actually taking it seriously, for all that he's also revealing himself to be even more of an asshole than previously suspected lmao. that's not nothing, for kremy. BUT at the same time he is also the person who cried to see a unicorn broken and abused, and who saw something in gideon upon meeting him that no one else did or cared to at that time and offered him genuine companionship and support — as the story goes on he’s starting to admit to more things about himself, the bad and the good.)

all of which of course also is why he's having such a hard time being honest with gideon about how he feels (and the sheer immensity with which he feels it too, probably) -- that's incredibly vulnerable for a person who’s built himself up around the idea of never being vulnerable. ('i'm just a shadow, nothing you do can really touch or hurt me.') And yet if there’s peace and redemption to be found for kremy, if only within his own soul, between these versions of himself, I feel that discovering and accepting his own capacity for loving someone else so much that it transcends all selfishness or fear would be integral to it. (he loves gideon. So much it makes me a bit dizzy you guys)

[martyryo]

Life is beautiful

[ichiwashername-o]

Here's a crossover no one fucking asked for. But come on, this would be fucking hilarious, do you see my vision??????

This came to me in a dream and I woke up in a cold sweat just to make this stupid fucking joke.

If I wasn't absolutely exhausted from work I would have drawn this but I am completely drained, I needed to get this posted so I can get this out of my head, so here. Have a shitty Photoshop meme.

Like God intended.

[accidentally-in-fictional-love]

📖🤹‍♂️🔞, pretty pleeeaasee ?

Collared But Untethered - Abner Krill/Reader

Warnings: No use of Y/N, gender-neutral reader, slowburn, slight exhibition (Belle Reve), touch-starved induced desperation, making out, sudden smut, handjobs.

Wordcount: 2970

Summary: Even with every personnel in Belle Reve questioning why you wanted him, you kept coming back for more so long as they kept letting you touch him just out of sight.

Notes: Even when I try to drabble I still can't resist the buildup cause I love him so much oop- This is the first request I've ever gotten/filled so here we gooooo :'D I hope you like it, thank you so much for sending something in 💗💗💗

You were 100% certain that everyone had caught on by now to what you two were doing, but it was hard to care when orange fabric was bunched under your hands and the sound of his poorly quieted voice was in your ear. Belle Reve was well known for its lack of care towards its residents, so at first you’d both assumed that someone would barge in at any second to tear you apart, ban you from ever returning, but you were going on your fifth visit now with no one disturbing you, so even if you weren’t as perceptive as you’d thought and they were watching on a camera you’d missed no one made it known.

You’d first seen him on TV, shakycam footage barely capturing him as he and the other prisoners briefly designated as ‘Heroes’ made quick work of the current bigger threat destroying the city, and the way his powers had lit up the area in a rainbow of colours had instantly drawn you in, made you forget all about the danger as you hid in your apartment and waited in terror for it to be over, trembling hands clasped together in front of your heaving chest as you prayed you’d be safe. He’d destroyed that threat singlehandedly the second he was sure no one else was in his way, the others chiding him in the footage as he’d closed up on himself and apologized, having forgotten their goal of taking the villain alive so he could join them in their home. 

He was so unlike anyone you’d ever seen before, a timebomb of danger wrapped up in a polka-dotted bow, hands fidgeting and head downturned nervously while the destruction of what he could do showed all along the street up to where gory remains decorated the open main road.

As the reporter took over the submitted shakycam with her own live footage, people circled the villains to thank them, albeit keeping their distance even as they reached out to shake hands, pat backs, give gifts that would definitely be confiscated as soon as they returned. No one thanked him for killing their target, everyone too afraid of the gauntlets holding back bright lights and coloured dots, worried that he’d turn them on the crowd next even as the infamous Harley Quinn herself showed off the gun she’d stolen from one of the fallen policemen to a couple kids who’d wandered up to praise her without their parents’ permission.

That wasn’t fair at all, he’d needed some thanks too.

So you’d left your apartment and hurried down to them, the fight just a couple blocks away, the still burning circles in the buildings and pavement growing in number the further you got. They were already starting to get into the armoured vehicle that brought them there by the time you’d arrived, and you didn’t know his name so you could only call past the gathered guards making sure they didn’t run before he disappeared out of sight. He turned to face you, one of his teammates elbowing him to go when it became obvious that you were there for him; he walked back down the lowered ramp to approach, looking apprehensive that you’d want to talk to him when the others were right there, so you’d extended your hand to shake his, prove that you weren’t afraid but rather thankful for his help as you reached as far as you could between the two guards keeping you at a distance for your own safety.

The moment his hand touched your own you knew that you could never let him get away again.

Visitors to Belle Reve were always heavily inspected and supervised, no one ever allowed to meet face to face for fear of what could happen to either party as well as those around them, and they made that explicitly clear to you as you passed their inspections and were ushered down the hallway to the partitioned phones. The moment you told them that you were there for the Polka-Dot Man so they knew who to get they’d hesitated, turned halfway down the hallway to look at you like you were crazy, some weird thing to be studied for wanting to see him of all people. You’d just simply shrugged and told them you wanted to thank him for the other day.

He’d never had a visitor in all his time being there, and the moment he’d seen you holding the phone opposite of his own he’d gone red in the face, a mix of embarrassment for the continued support and obvious confusion as to why you’d sought him out a second time. It was cute, and while the conversation had been short, his voice low and answers coming out in single worded sentences as he thought about what to say, it still brought butterflies to your stomach until your time was up, your final question asking for his name before you were forced to hang up.

‘Abner…’ he’d told you, like he hadn’t said it in a long time. ‘Abner Krill.’

The second time you visited you asked for permission to talk to him face to face, as his voice barely carried over the phone and he had a tendency to forget he was holding it as he talked to the desk. Request denied, but they’d think about it for the right price, it wasn’t like he was going to escape his birdcage when it kept him safe from himself, the shiny collar around his neck stopping the kaleidoscope from painting the walls in cinders. That conversation had come easier, the guards getting bored and pulling out their phones as you talked about everything and nothing at all, his words flowing a little more freely.

The third time you’d gotten your request with the handing over of a few steep bills slid under the table, Abner looking around at the room before seeing you and smiling. There was a little more space between you compared to the phones but the wall was gone, and you almost missed his questions about your life as you watched his mouth speak, hands rubbing and fidgeting on top of cold metal in his persistent nervousness. The moment you’d started talking about yourself the guard watching over you had sighed loudly in annoyance and walked out, leaving the two of you alone to both of your surprise, the camera whirring in the corner telling you that they were still watching from afar at least.

You shook his hand again when time was up, and he trembled a little less as he stood before you, your bodies dangerously close for a quick moment before the guard rushed in to put a little space between you with an utterly confounded look shot in your direction.

The fourth time you looked around to see if there were more cameras than just the one over your shoulder before he was brought in, his eyes instantly brightening in your presence as they’d recently started to do. He looked more alive, his face less sunken like he was taking better care of himself so you wouldn’t worry, and you longed to hold him as the table became a deep crevasse between you. He wasn’t chained to it this time, they didn’t care enough and he knew better, he was well trained by now, and the moment you were left alone again you’d moved your chair to the empty space on the side, a little closer but not touching, testing the waters as you shot a glance to the camera to see if this was okay.

Nothing happened. No one came. Hands rested in sight as they reached but never touched, the crevasse a little smaller as the space between turned from feet to inches, then centimeters.

When your pinkies linked together it was like a bridge formed instantly, the two of you meeting in the middle as he closed his eyes and just breathed, completely calm as his free hand ran over his arm to make sure the gauntlets were gone, make sure he wouldn’t hurt you. He was touch-starved, that much was apparent as long fingers crawled over your own to create more points of contact, Abner fully holding your hand and forgetting that you were supposed to be talking. Your heart raced as you wanted more, wanted to see what other reactions you could pull from him if just this was enough to make him lean towards you, eager to invade your personal space, or perhaps invite you to invade his.

It was a space he guarded dearly, you’d learned as much over your visits as he told you about how the other inmates treated him, your touch so gentle compared to their punches, both of your chairs sliding over the floor as you closed the gap even more. Still no one came, your eyes going to the door to make sure they weren’t watching you through the wire-meshed glass to see what would happen next but the space on the other side was empty, the camera blinking red high above you as your legs made contact, a buzz of electricity shooting up your spine.

He tried to pull away, surprised by his own brazenness, or maybe it’d been an accident since he was so much taller than you, but you refused to let him, your leg pressed into the cold table leg almost painfully as you pulled him right back. The knowledge that you wanted him close, wanted to touch him even though he could burn right through you in an instant without the collar controlling him, made his chest start to heave then, eyes searching your face for fear but finding none.

Your hand unlinked from his before sliding up his arm, feeling the way he shivered as you reached his elbow, his bicep, muscles tensing under loose fabric just out of sight, a sigh leaving his lips as your fingers carefully trailed over his collar up to his cheek. He leaned into you, slowly at first, like you might change your mind and pull away at any second, his eyes closed tight as chair legs scraped over the ground. The gap closed more and more as you stood, leaned in close enough to see the scars of his time in this place, the way his lips parted ever so slightly as he let out shaky breaths, how long his lashes were as they fluttered in anticipation of what you were going to do next.

The door opened before you could make that final leap, the men who rushed in looking just as confused to your actions instead of angry, and while they weren’t rough with you they did tease him all the way down the hallway as he tried to hide the fact that he’d wanted you in those last seconds, your face flushing as pure longing rushed right to your gut at the sight of something hidden behind shaking hands as he was led to the showers to cool off.

The fifth time you’d come in you’d stared down everyone you passed as they whispered and nodded in your direction, not caring as you headed for your visiting room, no one stopping you even as they shook their heads and questioned your life choices. They still let you wait by yourself, your heart pounding as he was brought in and the door was closed behind him, the guard locking it muttering to himself about how he didn’t get paid enough for this. Abner didn’t even get a chance to sit down as you stood up and grabbed onto his shirt, pulled him down to continue what you’d started with a chaste kiss, testing the waters as he let out a surprised noise against your mouth before it turned into a moan, his hands hovering over you as he tried to decide what to do.

‘Touch me,’ you told him as you parted for a breath, the end of the collar pressing into your own throat as he groaned and kissed you back, dry lips parting to let you in as you ran your tongue experimentally over his bottom one. His hands wandered all over you, touching whatever he could now that he knew you wanted him to, his back hitting the wall and the collar scraping against the brick as he arched against you wantonly. It was like the floodgates had been opened, touch-starved desperation making him want more before you were separated again, your body ready to follow his every command should he ask, wanting nothing more than to make him feel good before he was forced to go back to his solitude. 

You palmed him over his pants and he keened needily, hips moving to feel you more before he stopped himself with a choked whine, he was asking too much too soon, surely you couldn’t want him that badly, surely now would be the time you’d come to your senses and see him like everyone else did. You nipped at his bottom lip, got him to look at you before you glanced up at the camera; it was facing the table, the two of you probably just in frame, so you led him to the corner directly underneath it, in its blindspot as you played with the hem of his pants.

‘Do you want this?’ you whispered, voice low so anyone outside wouldn’t hear, Abner’s eyes shut tight again as he nodded his head, slowly at first and then a little quicker as you made contact against his bare stomach. He was breathing so heavily, the growing tent just under where your hand rested making you lick your lips; they were bound to stop you before it got too heated but you could at least give him this, all your fantasies from the past month coming to life as you felt hot skin under your fingertips.

He sighed and let his head fall back, hands gripping you like a vice as you touched him, and you couldn’t help but wonder when the last time anyone else had touched him like this had been, if anyone ever had; it made you a bit jealous to think about the former, of someone else making him look this way before you, so you couldn’t help but selfishly wish you were the first as you wrapped your hand around him. His knees shook, he wasn’t used to it, your name falling from his lips as he started to buck desperately into your hand. 

He was beautiful as his jaw went slack, so open with what he wanted as he held you close, your own pleasure building just from watching him come so easily undone like it was the strongest aphrodisiac. His quiet voice came in handy as he moaned out his desires, how good it felt, how he needed more, pleas to not stop sending shockwaves all the way down to your toes as the words started to cut off the closer he got. You felt your throat tighten as his tongue peeked out to wet his lips, needing to taste him again as you swallowed and leaned up to capture him in a deep kiss, his tongue dancing over your own and refusing to let you get away in such a lewd way that it made your head spin.

He didn’t last long between your kisses and your hand attacking him at the same time, his hips jutting with a broken cry of pleasure into your open mouth as he came into your fist, palm gathering as much as you could for his sake. You didn’t realize you were panting as well with how turned on you were as his expression softened into one of pure bliss, a need filling your gut and making you burn with desire unlike anything you’d ever felt before as you wanted more. You pulled your hand free, mouth watering as you felt the sticky substance leak through your fingers, Abner just staring at you through half-lidded eyes as you raised your hand to your mouth, tongue darting out to taste when the door suddenly opened, two guards rushing in.

‘Alright, that’s enough of that,’ one of them said, your fist held by your side as you were pushed out of the way, Abner letting out an actual whine at not being able to return the favour before he was dragged out the door. Once he was out of sight you were led to the nearest bathroom, the guard not fooled at all by your attempted nonchalance and letting you wash up, your hand shaking as you still felt his heat against your wet skin. You wouldn’t do anything about your own situation until you were home, the guard just shaking his head as you rejoined him and followed him to the front doors, the detour allowing you a glimpse of Abner as he walked down a connecting hallway.

Despite the cuffs around his hands and the collar around his neck he looked relaxed, free, not even reacting as one of the inmates passing by tried to insult him, sharp canines biting his lip as he just stared the men down. You grinned, proud of him as you walked out of sight of him again, the highly protected doors leading to the outside world coming into view moments later. You didn’t leave right away, turning to talk over your shoulder as your escort waited impatiently for you to go, a gleam in your eye as you stared into his mask.

‘I’ll be back again next week,’ you promised, everything that came with that unsaid but understood, and he sighed before giving you a shove, everyone around you already whispering about the day’s visit as you just grinned and walked out into the warm Louisiana sun.

[void-with-a-keyboard]

this is so incredibly entertaining to me

[d4rk-x-w0lf-17]

i can't fucking escape him

[jenna-louise-jamie]

thinking about yassen gregorovich instead of sleeping (because i love him) and how he is a catalyst. yassen stabbs ash -> ash kills john rider -> ian rider raises alex -> yassen kills ian rider -> mi6 blackmails alex into becoming a teenage spy.

i have so many thoughts that i can't properly articulate. obviously this is a simplified chain of events, but yassen and his choices set off a chain reaction of the world's most unfortunate dominos. especially when you read russian roulette. to be clear im not necessarily trying to blame him for everything because that feels very mean. he was also just a 14 year old kid when everything in his life went wrong, just like alex. only difference being yassen literally had no one.

i think i should write an essay about this because i haven't even gotten into my thoughts about what yassen and alex's dynamic would look like past eagle strike. i would imagine it'd be similar to ellie and joel from the last of us part 2.

where obviously yassen loves alex and alex on some level cares for yassen back but struggles to reconcile that with the fact that yassen is responsible for his uncle's death. a very unforgivable act. it would be so messy and complicated and angsty, because on one hand here is an adult who truly cares about him and has a connection with him through his father. yassen could tell alex about john, and trust that yassen truly wants whats best for him. but he killed ian, and he cannot take that back.

while alex reels from those feelings, yassen is also trying to reconcile his love of alex with the knowledge that he on some level is responsible for the suffering alex endured at the hands of mi6. and possibly even the fact that alex's godfather is the one who killed john and helen.

[leafsfromthevine]

i have not consumed the live action [yet] but all i've heard is that dallas' zuko feels fruity which is incredibly important to me and also hilarious because i had a dream last night i was the third roommate of dallas and ian except they WERE sokka and zuko and the whole time i was trying to get zuko to just. say he's gay. i was like come on man look at the way you look at him bro you can be honest with me. its a safe space.

[life-is-curious]

Ok so I had a dream where bradley has become roommates with the goof troop for one reason or another, him and max are close but not like relationship close *yet*

Max starts to act really worn down and tired and begins mentioning what bradley assumes is a video game level and saying, "I gotta get to black dragon level 10," when falling asleep

Bradley and max start planning like a little get together for a book club I think and pj pulls him aside and it like "yo brad Max's birthday is soon u should plan something for it since ur already doing the bookclub thing"

Bradley ofc is all against it bc Max's bday isn't his responsibility, and they aren't even that close anyway.

But while planning the bookclub thing he keeps accidentally doing just that, picking up things max would like buying decorations online in secret.

One-day close to the party max who is still unaware of all of this falls asleep after saying the black dragon level 10 thing with bradley sat at the end of his bed as they had been planning the book club side of things together (brads been waiting for him to fall asleep so he could keep planning the other thing)

He starts kicking his feet and giggling all excited to break out the good shit for the party (it was tonighf) but he remembers something he needs from max for book club and he turns to shake max awake only to find like a small black lizard(in my dream it looked like a axolotl lol) looking up at him all freaked out.

He starts to panic, lizard max starts to panic

Then my alarm woke me up

[shywhumpauthor]

Okay mock executions are fucking terrifying I have not seen nearly enough of them in the whump community.

Whumpee who knows they’re going to die the next week/day/few hours and there’s nothing they can do to stop it. The panic and desperation with no outlet. They claw at their restraints and throw themself at the door to their cell, uncaring as bruises bloom across their skin, or as blood begins to build up underneath their nails. They’re willing to sacrifice everything for the futile, fleeting hope of escape. They scream and beg until their voice goes hoarse even though there’s no one nearby to listen. Eventually, they crumple in on themself to the awful realization that their future is set and cut. They can’t even sleep without their dreams being plagued with this lingering terror. Maybe they’ve seen Whumper kill someone in the manner they’ve told Whumpee they are to be executed, so Whumpee can’t even pretend to think that maybe Whumper is bluffing.

When the day comes, they still haven’t settled into their fate. They’re absolutely hysterical, doing everything they can to stay away from Whumper and [insert place where they were planned to be executed]. Of course, this does nothing. If they won’t walk, Whumper’s men will simply drag them. At one point maybe Whumpee manages to break free for a short moment of hope, managing to throw their elbow against Henchman’s stomach and twist away, actions fueled only by the adrenaline flooding their mind. They take a single desperate lunge towards the door, before something hard catches them upside the head and knocks them down. Their vision is fuzzy and fleeting, hearing nothing but a faint ringing. Maybe they’re unconscious altogether as Henchman picks them up and continues to drag them towards their final destination.

Whumper plays out everything the way it was intended. They tie the blindfold over Whumpee’s eyes, exchange their chains for softer restraints. Whatever. Then when it comes time for the strike, for the blade to pierce through their chest or slit across their neck, all that Whumpee feels is a small prick against their neck, something cold flood through their body before their thoughts collapse under the intensify of the stress and their mind gives out.

Wherever they wake the following day, let it be somewhere much worse than death’s doorstep or a place so peaceful Whumpee couldn’t even begin to comprehend, Whumpee will be terrified. Panicked and confused. Their thoughts will have no answer as they realized there is no one else around to answer their cries. They wonder if this is death, the afterlife or whatever it was called.

That hope is crushed, replaced by even more of a helpless confusion as Whumper strolls through the door moments later, grinning as they ran their fingers across the sharp of a blade.

[realchemistry]

Eddie didn’t remember him. Buck took a deep breath, Eddie was alive, that was all that mattered.

Or, Eddie gets shot, loses some of his memories and comes to an interesting conclusion.

[littleseasalt]

"forever is a bad dad to richa-" SHUT UP!!!!!