#i love that you're interested in this boy :)

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Floyd Leech: Cinderella Step

GOOD GOD, FLOYD 😭 Put your grippers AWAY, I don’t wanna see those… (flashbacks to the horror of Dorm Uniform Jade groovy)

P.S. You should listen to Cinderella Step by Daoko :)) I enjoy it a lot, and it’s also the song that I named this ficlet after. I feel like that first full line (“Though you are the worst, I can’t help but love you”) is very evocative of the NRC boys 😂

Rise and Shine!

It was easy to tell which side of the room was Floyd's. It always looked like a hurricane had run through, scattering clothes all over every avaliable surface. Snack crumbs are sprinkled like a generous garnish on his desk and shelf. His belongings—interesting odds and ends he had collected over the weeks—were similarly strewn haphazardly, wherever there was free space to be occupied.

There was only one thing that the storm seemed to have missed.

His shoes.

A glossy black--patent leather. Large yet sleek, tapering into pointed toes. It was the same pair he wore every day with his school uniform, yet there was not so much as a scratch or a speck of dirt on them.

Pristine.

The one thing he takes good care of, you thought. Must be magic.

Other shoes sat in neat rows on a rack. Boots, sneakers, sandals, in shapes and colors you've never even imagined. The variety astounded you.

Floyd bounded about the room collecting his things. He hopped around on one leg, slipping on a sock, then alternated to the other leg. Next he slung his blazer, still slightly wrinkled from having been crumpled and tossed over a chair last night, on over his prim grey-lilac vest. His striped tie was forgotten, left forlorn on his bed as he yoinked the patent leather shoes and slipped them on.

“‘K, I’m ready," Floyd announced cheerily. "Let’s get going, koebi-chan~"

You stared at his messy room. "You're not going to tidy up a little before heading out?"

He blinked. "Hmm? Why would I? Stuff's gonna shift around anyway, so there's no point in doing that."

Floyd strolled out, hands casually tucked in his pockets. You followed after him, falling in time with his footsteps. Today, they were long and languid, like waves lazily combing the beach.

You knew what that meant; good mood, best to not disturb it.

"... Right." You offered a small, reassuring smile. “Hey, I noticed that you have a lot of shoes—and you take such good care of them.”

“Yeah. Cuz we don’t really have’m where I come from. Gotta make the most of my human experience and all.”

"You don't exactly dress in a shirt and pants under the sea either," you pointed out with a shrug.

“Shoes are special.” He said it with surprisingly conviction, an uncharacteristic seriousness set in his eyes. "You kinda need them to do the things humans do every day, least without getting nagged at. Jumping, dancing, strolling down the street."

“All this talk about footwear… You sound like Cinderella.”

“Ehh… Do I give you those vibes?” There was a crackle entangled with his words.

“You’re the kind of guy that would sneak out if Azul told you to stay put.” You paused, then added, “just to prove a point.”

He gave a razor-sharp grin in response. “Touché.”

Floyd glanced down at his feet. His eyes barely lingered there for half a second before they flicked to yours. “Glass slippers sound cool though.”

“Glass slippers? Really? You’re not scared they’d break…? I thought you’d be into more durable shoes. Something easy to move around in.”

“I’d try’m on at least once, as long as it’s not lame lookin’. I’ll try anything at least once. Glass slippers, a puss’s boots, ballet flats from twelve dancing princesses, shoes made by elves…”

“Even cursed shoes?” you asked. “Professor Trein was telling us about them the other day. Put them on, and you’re cursed to dance forever and ever—or at least until you collapse from exhaustion.”

Floyd made a face. “Nah. Dancing’s fun, but not if you do it all the time. I’d get sick of it.”

"There’s more than one way of dancing.”

“Duh. I know that. But it’ll still get pretty boring after a while.”

“I don’t think so.” You shook your head, your feet coming to a stop. “Dancing’s a lot like having a conversation, except your mouth doesn’t ever need to move. You just let your body do the talking.”

Your legs criss-crossed in a quick jig. "This is being excited." Standing on your toes, you carefully elevated yourself. "This is whispering." Putting all your weight into your feet, you stomped. "And this is shouting!"

Floyd watched your demonstration in silence. Gold, right. Olive, left. Together, mysterious and mirthful.

“Sounds fun,” he piped up at last. “I want in on this."

Before you had the chance to respond, Floyd's had had already latched onto yours. The other wrapped around your waist, tugging you against his chest. You lurched against him, and the sound of his raspy laughter filling your eardrums.

“You wanna dance? Let’s dance. Then you tell me what my dancing says to you.”

“W-Wait, Floyd…!”

He didn’t.

Floyd strung you along and down the street, swinging you erratically in his arms. With his long limbs swaying, he moved as naturally as a fish amid coral. For a creature of the sea, he had such grace on land that you could never tell his true origins.

He was the wind, a water current, a wayward traveler. Constantly changing and never truly contained.

Your panic and surprise easily melted into light-hearted laughter. And your feet, too, began to weave freely, as if wading on the shoreline, drawing indiscriminate shapes in the sand.

Realization struck you when you looked at him again. Your heart went thump-thump-thump, in a frantic little dance of its own.

What he’s trying to convey is…

Floyd met your gaze, sparks flying. His fingers interlocked with yours, he leaned in and grinned. Cheeks ruddy, eyes shining with exhibition.

“We don’t need words. Just our dancin’ shoes and each other!”

[mailmango]

One-on-One

Pairing: Professor Henry Cavill x Student Male Reader

Genre: Fluffy Smut, MDNI

Kinks/Warnings/Notes: AMAB Reader; Calling the reader a slut, a whore; Calling the reader a good boy, praise; Slapping and spanking; Age gap; Professor x Student

Length: 5.1k words

Synopsis: You're one of the lucky few to have ever experienced one of Professor Cavill's lectures. And you are the lucky, singular person to have ever experienced his heart-racing one-on-one session.

A/N: oml hiiii! If you're reading this, then thank you very much! this is my first time writing something over a thousand words (of my own volition) in probably 3 years at least! It's also my first time writing serious smut GAHAHAHAH I would appreciate feedback (totally optional), but most of all, hope you enjoy :D

Credits: @/aquazero for the divider and @/starboye for helping me with formatting and tagging!! ^-^

I picked this one just for you! I hope it’s sweet and juicy…

You’ve always liked your Ancient Mythologies Studies class. It was an easy A, one that came packaged with an interesting topic to boot. Who doesn’t want to hear of the religions and myths of civilizations from thousands and thousands of years ago?

The answer is most people. It was one of the smallest classes–even with a size cap of twenty, it had barely filled out ten slots. It seemed most people simply didn’t take interest in the subject. That meant that most people were poor, unfortunate people, because they didn’t have the pleasure of knowing Professor Cavill. 

Professor Cavill had worked at the university teaching their Ancient Mythologies Studies class for the past several years. He was a graduate of this school and, after having established himself as a prominent archaeologist, he opted to take time and teach a course for two sessions weekly. In his words he, “Wanted to help inspire any young people with a passion for learning about those that came before us.” 

You had found those words so, so interesting. But it was more so about the man saying them. 

Professor Cavill–Henry–was a tall, broad-shouldered man in his mid-forties. He was kind and considerate to each member of his class, treating them with a warmth and manner you’d read about in an overly unrealistic romance novel. And yet, he was very much real. You had class with him every Monday morning and Friday night. 

Classes which you would sit in, bouncing your leg and hiding a raging boner as you watched the man fiddle with and adjust his tie. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Y/N, are you sure you’d rather not attend the festivities?” 

Ah, just your luck, wasn’t it? Your college had been holding a concert for a handful of its alumni to celebrate their band’s first national tour. The university had decided that, due to the band falling under the alternative genre, they would allow classes to continue should any students or staff be disinterested. 

It just so happened that, as much as you weren’t opposed to them, you also weren’t heavily inclined to actually attend their show. You had figured that at least one of your ten classmates would feel the same. 

Apparently not.

Hence, you now sat alone in a small lecture room, the chairs beside you empty as you stared at your beloved professor, Professor Cavill. 

“Ah, no, professor. Were you looking to attend?” 

“Myself? My personal taste doesn’t align with their music. As much as I love Clive-” 

Clive was the lead singer and, as you recall, one of Professor Cavill’s former students. 

“-we’ll be meeting for a congratulations dinner tomorrow evening. We’ve already discussed.”

He smiled, dimples forming, as he flipped open his files for the night’s lecture. 

Then he had to reach for his stupid tie. 

“Would you mind if I loosened my tie? I’ve been feeling warm as of earlier this evening.” 

His large, somewhat hairy hand was already holding the knot one either side. He did it often; you had come to suspect it was an unconscious habit at times. He would tug at his tie, calling attention to his strong chest or those bulging biceps…

Damn his stupid tie. Today, it was his blue tie, one you knew to be one of his favourites. He wore it at least thrice a month, most often during Friday sessions.

Every time he would touch it, toy with it, it sent shivers down your spine and blood straight to your cock. You almost weren’t sure if you hated or loved that he was almost never without one.

“Ah, not at all, Sir. Go ahead.” 

“Thank you, Y/N.”

God, your name sounded so good out of his mouth. He drew the syllables out, gave it this weight that you hadn’t heard your name spoken with before. You could get addicted to the way he had said it just now. You were tempted to find an excuse to have him say it again. 

That opportunity came as, for the first time, he pushed past absentminded tugs at his tie and now pulled the knot away from his chest. For the first time, you saw his neck without the tie drawing attention. It almost sounded manic to say but… the sight began to draw you in. 

And then he overshot it. The tie came off, knot still done, but it was completely removed now. He stared down at the cloth before using his free hand to undo it, leaving it nice and straight in his hand. 

“Do you mind if I forgo it?”

Eye contact. He made eye contact with those god damn near hypnotising eyes. They really were unique; the man had something called segmental heterochromia. He had mentioned it once before. It meant that his left iris, though mostly blue like his right, had a patch of brown in its upper half. 

It felt mystifying, like a siren whose song you couldn’t ignore. He continued to look at you, and without him breaking eye contact, you were hopelessly unable to do so yourself. Instead, you simply muttered a weak response. 

“Go ahead, Sir.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Class seemed to fly by. Your hand wrote on its own as your legs bounced, mind and senses completely and utterly hinged on the man’s every word and movement. Though he entranced you each time you sat in on his lectures, tonight was different. You had always blamed his tie. It’s the tie. The playing with the tie, his stature with it, that’s what you blamed for your constant erections. 

But it was difficult to deny it when, as the man orated with his tie discarded, you found your cock throbbing more eagerly than you can remember it having ever done before.

Sweat rolled down your forehead from the heat you were feeling. You cursed yourself, begging that the man would somehow not notice the warmth that afflicted you. But, as you let yourself look at him again, really look at him, you were both relieved and mortified to find that he was under the same circumstances. 

“Is the air conditioning broken?”

His words were breathless as he fanned himself with his papers. He was tugging at his collar now, further exposing his neck, now slick with sweat. It seemed to be bothering him more than it was you, somehow. 

“I-I think so.”

You could barely manage to let the words out. Your breathing had gotten unsteady, mind and body unable to focus as the man groaned from the discomfort. Seemingly without realising, his hand undid the two topmost buttons of his shirt. It exposed his chest–a strong chest covered in wild, dark black hair that you had been completely oblivious to the glorious existence of.

“Y/N? Are you alright? Is something-”

Of course now he notices your stares. It couldn’t have been when it was something that was easily explained away, like you were staring at him due to intent listening. No, it had to be when your gaze, which he followed, led down to his exposed chest. His exposed chest which had, mortifyingly, caused a wet spot to form in your pants. 

“Ah, my apologies. Let me redo my button-” 

“No! I mean-”

Your words came out too eager. Your brain was screaming at your mouth not to speak, to not make an utter fool of yourself. But your mouth chose to go rogue, instead opting to speak like a horned-up teen begging his boyfriend to keep making out with him. 

“Y-you don’t have to. I don’t mind.” 

An eyebrow was cocked in your direction. 

“Is that so, Y/N?” 

Your silence was used to scream, rather than actually think of anything remotely close to damage control. 

“Y-yes Sir. I don’t mind if you keep your buttons undone.”

“If that’s the case, then…” 

Was this… reality? Surely it could be. It was impossible. 

You were sitting there, cock leaking with precum like you were a virgin watching your first porno, as your handsome professor began to undo buttons, one after another. He was exposing himself further and further with each passing second, each button exposing a new section of chiselled, hairy, sweat-covered skin.

His breaths were deep and heavy, sighs and groans of relief sending more and more sensations to your cock. Every vibration of his vocal chords seemed to be felt in full force by your erection, not helping your situation in any way whatsoever. 

Then the man had the gall to take his shirt off, folding it neatly and placing it aside. 

His body truly was magnificent. Plush, thick muscles were a constant, whether you looked at his chest, his abs, his shoulders, or any of his muscles. They radiated strength, covered in that same black hair as on his chest and equally slick with sweat. His body glistened under the dim light of the lights hanging above, almost like a gladiator fresh from battle. 

How the hell were you supposed to react? What the hell were you supposed to do? 

“Y/N, it’s hot, isn’t it? Would you mind if I further… undressed?”

How the hell were you supposed to say no to that? 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was almost pathetic how easily the man got you to fish your cock out of your strained pants. Little more than an offhanded request, actually. 

Now you sat, pants and underwear around your ankles, your own shirt unbuttoned, as you feverishly pumped your erect dick. Your hand glided up and down due to the slickness of your overflowing precum, breathing unstable and desperate. But you were helpless, the possibility of you stopping a distant memory.

Professor Cavill was now nearly nude. He had discarded his elegant brown leather shoes and well-tailored pants, also in a neat pile on his desk. It left him, his statuesque form, completely exposed to you and your horny, unabashedly feral mind. It was a wonder you hadn’t cum yet. 

“Keep pumping for me, Y/N. Be a good boy and keep going.” 

Fuck, you couldn’t stop. Not when he said your name in a gruff, demanding voice. Not when he called you the sweetest pet names. Not when he stared at you, panting and eager, with a hunger that a predator has for its prey. 

Most especially when his cock strained against dark, black fabric, as he rubbed along his clothed shaft as he took in the sight of your desperate form. 

“Prof-” 

“Henry. Call me Henry, Y/N.” 

Shit, you could feel your cum about to well up and burst. 

“Henry!” 

He gave you a curt nod of approval. Your stomach pulsed with excitement. 

“P-please, fuck me-!” 

You looked at him, eyes wide and begging, and desperately awaited a reply. With mercy, he gave you one. 

“Alright, Y/N. I’ll fuck you.” 

You let out a pathetic, strangled mewl as your cum sprayed up and onto your sweaty torso. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Henry–gah, you got to call him Henry–had a cock that you couldn’t fully process was actually human. It was too perfect. It was thick, nearly as thick as your wrist though thankfully just short. It was lengthy, having had to be nine or ten inches at full mast. His balls were heavy, full of cum that he was eager to let out, and the base of his shaft was buried in a wild, thick, furry bush. 

It was so close to you. It throbbed in front of you as you sat in your chair, the proximity allowing you to see the thick, pulsing vein that ran from base to near the tip. It let you watch as that fat, mushroom tip leaked a viscous, sticky precum. It lets you inhale that delicious, heady musk, intoxicating your mind and sending it reeling. 

It was almost too much to process. Almost.

You were far, far too eager to begin sucking on the fat shaft. Who could blame you? People would pay good money to get a taste of a cock this perfect. 

Fuck, the taste! A salty, somehow indescribably masculine taste, that flooded and overwhelmed your mind. It felt like you were at risk of addiction. Nothing had ever or would ever taste this damn divine. The copious amounts of thick, even saltier, precum being pumped into your throat was an excellent, equally addictive addition.

Even though it hurt and strained your jaw to stretch that wide and accommodate its length, the activity felt simply euphoric. If Henry would let you, you’d opt to do nothing more and nothing less than worship his cock, day and night. 

“That’s a good, good boy, Y/N. Lube up my cock.”

You always were one to follow Henry’s instructions. Always one to listen, to be a good, obedient puppy. Maybe that’s why you were his favourite. 

And, as he uttered praise and guided your head with a large hand’s firm grip, you certainly weren’t going to start disobeying now. With a hum of acknowledgement, you dutifully continued your task.

Once satisfied, Henry grunted and lightly tapped the back of your head. 

“That’s good, baby. That’s enough. Come, get off my cock now.” 

Part of you wanted to resist. How were you supposed to tear yourself away from his dick? It sounded impossible. But, you were eager for his praise, to hear him call you a good boy again. So, with one last deep dive down, your nose pressed into his hairy bush and your lips to the base of his shaft, you reluctantly pulled your face away and off of his delicious dick. 

“Good fucking boy. You’re a very, very good boy, Y/N.” 

Your cock throbbed with lust-filled need as you nodded with pure excitement. 

“You deserve a reward. Lay on my desk, Y/N, and let me take care of your now.” 

This was somehow the easiest instruction of the night to follow. You found yourself, now nude with your clothes having been folded just like Henry’s, laying on your back on his wooden desk. The surface felt cold and hard, but the feeling of a sturdy base comforted you. You knew that you’d need it. 

As you took deep, steady breaths. The first of the night, actually. Your mind was trained on one thing, one concern rather. 

How would you take his monstrous cock? 

The answer would come soon. Without warning, your legs were lifted by two strong hands. You looked down, seeing as Henry in all his glory set your ankles on his broad shoulders. He began pressing light kisses to your skin, beard tickling your skin, as he maintained unwavering eye contact. It caused you to let out a soft laugh, which he opted to respond to. 

“Your voice is beautiful, Y/N. Save it for me, okay?” 

You felt it then. His fat, throbbing, steaming hot cock was set beside yours, pressed between your dick and your thigh. He was slowly and subtly moving his hips back and forth, groaning at the sensational friction.

“You’ll let me hear you sing tonight, yeah? Let me hear your wonderful voice, Y/N.” 

His words were sweet like honey. It was almost enough to distract you from the prodding of his thick fingers against your tight hole. But, as you felt them push past your tight ring of muscle, your voice came out like the gates had been torn down, a moan resounding through the room. 

“There you go. Good boy… moan for me. Let me hear each and every one, okay?” 

You stared at him, eyes half-lidded, and nodded with an eager need to please.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Deep breaths, Y/N. Deep breaths for me now…”

How could someone so sweet cause so much pain? Henry was hunched over, his large, comforting hands on either side of your head as he hovered his face no more than four inches from yours. His heavy breaths fanned against your cheeks as he kept a steady, solid eye contact between you two. It was wondrous how much fire brewed within you from such a mundane act. 

“Are you ready? I’m going to insert the tip, alright?” 

He looked at you with such care and concern that it almost shocked you. He was a big, hulking man with a terrifyingly huge cock, but as it has come to be shown, a larger heart. It was so damn cheesy, wasn’t it? 

But that didn’t matter as you nodded once again, body unable to take the anticipation, the waiting, for him to shove his fat cock inside. 

…Except maybe it had to. His cockhead slipped inside with ease, but that wasn’t to say it wasn’t fucking painful. You let out a strangled half-moan half-scream, and within seconds, those large hands were patting the side of your head.

“Y/N? Is it too much? I’ll stop, okay? Should I pull out?”

Henry was kissing your forehead, your cheeks, the sides of your lips. He muttered small praises and comforts, every other kiss targeting a tear that had fallen from the pain. He kept true to his word; his hips remained still, his cock not pushing a millimetre further inside. It was from that moment of calm that, as you adjusted to the burning stretch, you were able to speak. 

“D-don’t. Just- give me a second to-“ 

You huffed out, desperate for air. 

“-adjust!” 

He smiled, pressing a kiss to your lips. He tasted, somehow, better than his cock. It wasn���t quite something you could place, to be frank. It was a savoury taste, one with hints of candies you couldn’t identify and a tea whose flavour you couldn’t imagine. But it was entirely and wholly the delicious thing you’ve ever or will ever have. 

That was worth getting addicted to. And if Henry would let you, you’d chase that taste every single moment you can. Something told you that yeah, he would. 

“You’re doing so, so good for me, Y/N. So good, you feel so good…” 

Henry’s voice was low and comforting, just as much, if not more than his calming touches. He spoke in whispers between each kiss, and it led you to slowly, but surely, adjust to the pain. Before you had even realised, all you felt was the desire for him to push even further. 

“H-Henry, you can move now… please…” 

“Are you sure, Y/N?” 

Hearing your name roll off his tongue, so casual by this point, only cemented your enthusiasm. You nodded slowly and weakly, smiling the best you could. 

“Fuck, you’re beautiful… Hold on to me, and tell me if I need to stop, okay?” 

Your cock nearly bounced at the praise. You eked out another nod as your hands came up to rest on his shoulders, leading him to return your smile with one of his own. And fuck, it was gorgeous. 

He kept his movement slow. It was torturous, but you could appreciate the time and the caution he took. His face watched yours, now scanning for any sign of pain or discomfort. At every wince or scrunch, he would stop, waiting for a nod or smile as your sign of readiness. 

“You feel excellent, Y/N. Being with you… I could get obsessed with this feeling, you know?” 

He leaned down to kiss you yet again. He kissed you, giving you yet another helping of that impossibly lovely taste: his taste. 

And then… then he brushed against your prostate, his cock like a mallet smashing into a button. Even slow, it sent a shock up your spine and a resulting heat through your nerves. Your loud, vulgar moans were taken with great joy and adoration from Henry, his smile only growing fonder. 

“You sound so good, Y/N. Let it out for me…” 

Perhaps you took it a tad too far as your cock, with the pressure to your prostate, burst with another spray of hot, sticky cum that painted both tour and Henry’s stomachs. Such a reaction was met with a warm laughter. 

“Not what I meant, but I’m not complaining. It’s good to know you feel good, baby.” 

He leaned in for yet another kiss and, in the hypnotising exchange, you just barely processed a large, encapsulating hand taking hold of your cock. Henry began to spread your cum across your own shaft, using it to pump your still-sensitive cock towards unbearable pleasure. 

“I’m gonna keep making you feel good, okay?” 

Sweat had beaded all over your skin now, streams running down your body as Henry’s own dripped down and onto your frame. He was pushing just a bit faster now—you almost couldn’t take the wait any longer. That once painful stretch had evolved into pleasure. It had evolved from a burning heat contained to your ass and spread into this resounding, unending warmth washing through you. In the process, it had devolved you into a writhing, moaning mess.

His cock was large, that was certainly clear. It was the kind of large that made your stomach bulge, the kind that you knew you wouldn’t ever be able to take with ease no matter how many times it had fucked you. And shit, you hoped that it would fuck you so, so many more times. 

But your composure only broke down further when his cock seemed to reach so impossibly deep inside, spreading your insides apart like it was trying to break you. Moan after moan fell out as your back arched involuntarily, only accentuating the bulge in your stomach. 

“Baby? Y/N?” 

You hadn’t even realised it, but Henry had stopped pushing himself deeper. Now, as he buried into what felt like the core of you and sent waves of electrifying heat with even the slightest twitch of his dick, his hips were flush against yours. He had bottomed out. 

“Henry…” 

Words other than the man’s name didn’t seem to be able to form. He, however, had so much to say. 

“Fuck, you’re amazing, Y/N. You’re taking me so damn well…” 

The hand not on your cock let go of your face and glided down your body, tracing lines down your shaking body, and stopped just over the bulging portion of your stomach. He brushed it gently, causing yet another crackle of electricity to wrack through you.

“Can… can I start to move?” 

Oh, you could’ve broken your neck with how fast you agreed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Shit, shit! You feel so damn good, Y/N.” 

Henry’s calm demeanour had taken a backseat. It was still there, in careful touches to your face and sweet caresses of your body. You could still hear it in every little praise he threw out, and every loving glance he gave your half-lidded eyes. 

His hips, though, had practically lost any form of restraint. 

He withdrew and pushed back in with speed and force, hips slamming with a harsh and sharp slap. Your ass felt sore by this point, but it was a warm, comfortable soreness when paired with the sheer, blinding pleasure of Henry’s cock. 

By the gods, the pleasure was insane. It was driving you mad, your vision going white. His cock, no matter how many times it was thrust into you, remained impossibly large and impossibly deep-reaching. It felt as though it only went deeper and deeper with each push, a result of your fractured state. 

But how could one stay sane when their body was being overwhelmed with such unimaginable pleasure. 

As drool began to spill and your eyes rolled back, Henry was quick to grab you by the chin and lock you into yet another kiss. Unlike the times before, though it carried the same sweetness, it was now heavy with a hunger, a need. He hungered for you, and he needed to fucking ruin you. 

And Henry’s a man who accomplishes his goals, isn’t he? He began thrusting into your harder, harsher than he had before. He thrust over and over and over again, his movements without a single missed beat or second of hesitation. 

His kisses remained constant too. His thick, strong tongue had shoved its way past your pretty lips and began to gnash against your tongue. It was a strange but nonetheless mind numbingly good feeling to have him invade your body even further. 

By now, his grip had transferred to and firmed on your hips. He kept you nice and planted in place on that damn sturdy desk of his, even as each thrust threatened its integrity. His pace was relentless, the wood starting to creak with his forcefulness. 

He drew back, saliva still stringing your mouth and his. 

“Y-you feel good, Y/N?” 

Who knew this man could stutter? But fuck, he made it sound hot. He sounded so lost in the pleasure, and even then, so firm in his every word. 

“Y-yes!” 

He gave a crooked smile at your words. 

“Good! Do you like the way I taste, Y/N? The way my spit tastes?” 

How vulgar was that? And how vulgar was it that, the second you tried to respond with a very clear yes, he decided to drop a fat glob of hot spit onto your cheek? He brought his thumb up to rub it into your skin and, hell, you were about to thank him for it. 

You couldn’t as he cut you off with yet another breathtaking kiss. You were left panting and unable to speak at all when he pulled away.

“You’re a whore, you know? A beautiful, obedient, whore.” 

His words carried no malice, only a heavy lust that he was just barely stopping from pushing him towards ruining your body completely. 

“But you’re my whore, alright? Don’t you ever fucking forget.” 

He slapped your cheek. It wasn’t one of anger, moreso just trying to snap you into focus. He wanted an answer and, as his best and favourite student, he knew he would get a reply out of you. 

“I-I’m your whore, sir!” 

It was a miracle you could speak, really. It was especially miraculous because the second he heard that, with one resounding slam of his hips into yours, you felt it. 

“Fuck, Y/N!”

In the moment, as you arched your back and let your mouth flow with moans at the highest possible volume, Henry’s cock pumped gush after gush of burning hot, viscous, cum. 

It felt like molten steel, an impossible extreme of everything that semen was meant to be. And as such, it brought the pleasure you felt from having your stomach pumped full of it to a high that you could never reach with any drug imaginable. 

And through it, his hips hadn’t chosen to stop. Every thrust was now being punctuated with a new load of cum filling your already full belly, each one followed then with another slap to your ass or lust-driven proclamation of love. 

“God, I love your tight fucking ass-”

You were screaming as you came at the height of the moment’s intensity.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You weren’t sure when the night ended, exactly. It seemed that the man had fucked you for hours on end, until he had emptied his fat balls’ storage of cum and filled your belly with it. He had fucked you till your cock hurt, and each climax produced a dry orgasm due to empty tanks. 

He had fucked you till you were left unable to think of anything but his cock and the taste of his sweet, delicious lips.  

And now, he was buried deep inside you still, pressing kiss after kiss to your neck as you desperately gasped for air. 

“Did I go too hard? Are you hurt, Y/N?” 

Your body was, in fact, aching. It was this numb, almost muffled pain that was eclipsed—or perhaps even part of—this euphoric pleasure that continued to grasp you. Things no longer felt real, at this point, but a dream you’d rather not wake from. 

But things were very much reality, and that included a high-off-sex and full-of-affection Henry. 

“I apologise for the slaps, they were rather forceful…” 

You managed out a shake of the head to signal a no. The laugh that he gave, boisterous yet quiet, made your heart pound again. 

“I see. I suppose we’ll need ample time to explore what we both enjoy, hm?” 

The idea of more time with Henry, more time doing this, was certainly exciting. He didn’t need more than your dumb little smile, one you couldn’t wipe off your face even if you wanted or tried to, to tell you thought. 

“I can see you like the prospect, hm?” 

Another chuckle and another kiss. What bliss this was. 

“I’m going to pull out now, so that we can both get cleaned up, okay? Just breathe for me, Y/N, just like earlier.” 

You tried to follow, you really did. But as your hole was quickly left empty, gaping and clenching around nothing, you couldn’t help but whine unintelligible mutterings. Henry responded with even more pecks to your lips and caresses to your soft, delicate skin. 

Henry was certainly a gentleman. He had taken some tissues from the box he reserved for students with colds and used then to to clean the outer portion of your sloppy hole. His hands, as large as they were, moved soft and delicate, careful not to press against any overly sensitive parts. 

He had taken to cleaning himself—drying his cock, much to your dismay, with more paper towels. He had noticed your sadness and, with an admittedly smug smirk, said he’d allow you to suck his cock clean next time. It was still strange, even after the night you had had with him, to hear such lewd language uttered from the refined man’s mouth.

By the time he had dressed himself, your breathing had steadied. Your backside was still sore and leaking, but he had promised to help with that back at his apartment. 

Wait.

His apartment? 

“Ah, would you rather not? I can clean you up in the facilities here and-” 

“No, no! I’d-”

You coughed. All the sweat, mixed with what was now cool night air, had left your body just a tad sick. Well, that and the exhaustion from having taken on such an impossible task and cock. 

“-love to. I’d love to go home with you, Henry.” 

He smiled like he hadn’t heard anything quite as lovely before. You smiled back in return. 

He was the eager to tug on your boxers and wrap you in his suit jacket as a means of decency. He lifted you up bridal-style and pressed a kiss to your forehead. The man was strong and, with the ease that was carrying you, he even held your folded clothing in the hand supporting your butt. 

You even found the strength to be humorous in the moment, letting out a joking, “Ooh, strong guy, huh?” 

He graced you yet again with one of those pure, unadulterated laughs.

“I’m glad to have had this one on one session with you, Y/N. Certainly was productive, wasn’t it?”

THANK YOU to my lovely beta readers! There's a shit ton GAHAH

@inhumanshadows @worstwolverinesbf @darlingminjin @alatrysev @starboye @spermeboy @starrykie @sleep-0-deprived @slytherslvt @kurominis

Love you all :D you're all soooo nice and helped me finish this with your kind comments! Hope I didn't let you down with the end :>

[iridescentscarecrow]

rambling post but wow. really fun dynamic to the yoru-asa switch this time. yoru blushing, typecast as a girl in love. "you're cute when you cry" completely at odds with denji's strangled grief.

yoru's attempted commiseration with denji's frustration: "i felt hopeless too. lost people who were like family to me." the family she's lost that we're privy to from previous chapters, the gun & the tank, her children whom she propertises & claims the life of. the claiming statement being one that asa reacts to with horror. it's so interesting how she mourns her family, almost horrifically laughable how she turns to denji & tells him about how he'll get over it. just like she did!

asa using the same trick she did in 167 at this point, harming her own body to force yoru out. the commiseration differs so startlingly here. denji's initial statement was: "i'm hopeless" — attaching his frustration with himself to the statement, faulting himself for what happened. yoru's "i felt hopeless" cuts away yoru's own self so neatly. fairly certain these are her children she's referring to — since the sisters are the horsemen, & even if she doesn't particularly mean gun & tank, these are the same children whose lives she thinks she owns. there's a charming earnestness to yoru here.

asa, meanwhile, tells denji about how she blames herself for the death of her family. her mother.

there's no way she can get over that.

grief & past traumas lingering in your tastebuds (see: the falling devil), eased by the crapburger that the chainsaw man describes to asa & that asa describes back to denji in turn... eating, tied to this. both living on & feeling, the toast with too much jam denji tells pochita about, miri's steak, the crapburgers, the fish. eating, too, a manner of digesting grief. denji fills up his stomach with his traumas, the dishes that falling prepares (the shadow of aki & power denji briefly remembers in those chapters hinting at <this>), makima in the apartment kitchen, nayuta on the conveyor belt. pochita unhinges his jaw & swallows up this past, the snow devil, makima's mouth, and all that bitterness for denji. and the boy's stomach can't keep it all in, barem stuffed denji up in the restaurant. it comes out as vomit.

[phalangemedes]

hello!! this is true but also the intense and fucked up pressure of being 'gifted kids' absolutely and irrevocably messed them up.

You can be loved and cherished and in a stable environment and still have too much expected of you as a literal child fill of underdeveloped skull jelly. They burdened these bumbling baby pre-teens with the knowledge they were about to be in charge of EVERYTHING they had ever known. Like it was the greatest honour to be bestowed on them. And they believed it BECAUSE THEY WERE KIDS.

Palamedes wasn't just an adroit necromancer he was also SMART, he was clever and caring and dedicated and he was pushed and pushed and pushed to become something so important so young. And he was told it was an accolade, something to be proud of, what he should have always been aiming for. ‘You are the best so be the best’. The only reason he wasn’t an egomaniac ( which isn't to say yer boy doesn't have an ego, he does, it's just because mostly he's been in an environment where he's been RIGHT alot) is because Cam didn’t let him. Their love language is argumentative, it’s why he thought Harrow was ready for tea parties and sleep overs even though she was still on ‘that is definitely a murderer, I can tell. For reasons.’ And it made him self sacrificial for the greater good, against his own good, it made him think not only SHOULD he help but that if he couldn't he was a failure.

Dulci is SUCH a good example of this, because he was A LITTLE TINY BABY and he heard of this woman and he thought his need to fix her was love. That's so sad??? And it obviously became love, because he loves very fully anyone he thinks even vaguely likes him back. But that must have been such a MINEFIELD for Dulcinea?? And she was the first 'adult' who was sweetly kind to him, who treated him like a kid, listened to him and talked to him, expected nothing more than a letter back. She didn’t tell him ‘yes I expect you to make me live’ she said ‘thank you’ when he made things to make her life better, but she never let him get close enough his everything was sucked into being her carer.

And Cam... Cam was a sword fighter on a planet of data analysts. A BIG, STRONG, taciturn girl who was fond of the (inevitable) future Master Warden. And she was never an Alexandrite, so she was never seen as TOP TIER, never trained as a consort, and that would have been expected for him. Her own ego is also… strange. She’s aware of her ability but she doesn’t think she’d good enough, not in a ‘I have weighed myself up against the world and found myself lacking’ way either in a ‘Well it’s okay because at least Sextus has a clue.’ Generally she would have been DROWNED in expectations of what her station was. Either was a 'you have to git gud' or a 'you wont ever be good enough'. I wonder how much of it was why she became his cavalier primary, better to be thought of as unworthy as his cav without the pressure to spread your ‘inferior’ genes right???

Also they are the most fucking neurodivergent little shits in the world?? and whilst their obsessions and dedication past the point of mental and physical wellness were seen as a good sense of duty, it was not, and no adults were telling them 'hey how about you eat and sleep and stuff!!' because it was seen as a virtue to be obsessed.

If you're on planet library and your special interest is Learn Everything you're getting A*'s. If your job is Book Boys Stab Fiend and you're good at stabbing? You will be encouraged past the point of failure to get better at being a Stab Fiend.

And I don't think there's any BETTER way this is expressed than with Paul's birth. That is an act of LOVE and an act of WAR. It's an act of kindness, it isn't a sacrifice of their individuality, it's the best they have. Pal doesn't have long in Babs, Camilla is a kebab without a necro to fix her. And their choice? is to become a demi god surrounded by the family that put them in that position and their enemies. They put them in a situation who's only out was failure. And they said naahh and chose their own failure, together, hand in hand.

It’s the wedding you have in secret when your family hates you and your partner, it’s going to a family function 10 years later wearing your rings with a ‘Oh yeah we got married’ because it was for you but holy fuck you want it to hurt them too.

Smothering is no less or more than neglect, just different.

what drives me insane is that most of the codependent pairs in tlt were set up to develop that kind of relationship in one way or another except for cam and pal. they weren’t the last two children on their planet! they don’t have the excuse of having been raised as a matched pair! they didn’t even keep each other company for ten thousand years! they were two friends growing up in a stable environment among people who cared about them and somehow they still managed to achieve levels of codependency unknown to god by like. age 13

[solelifauna]

When you say the love interest might be worse, does that mean "being mean to reader" wise or "being possessive over the reader" wise?

ERMMM...both I'd say. The love interest for the Werewolf AU is Jon Kent. He's about the same age as the reader and older than Damian by one year (From the time-skip space mission that he went on that aged him). But bro, this boy is fucking nuts.

Yes, Kryptonians aren't werewolves in this universe, but Lois Lane is. And a strong one at that, coming from a military family and all that jazz. So Jon Lane Kent is literally one of the strongest beings on earth, being half-kryptonian and half-werewolf.

Now i know what youre thinking.

But wouldn't Jon also be outcasted from werewolf society/wouldn't the bats not like him cause he's a half-blood?

WRONG!!! Yes, Jon is a half-blooded werewolf, but the other half is Kryptonian, one of the strongest species in the universe. If anything, his breeding makes him a very respected figure and the Bats definitely find him worthy. He and Damian are still the best of friends.

Now Jon's relationship with (Y/n). Yikes. Funnily enough, it was (Y/n) who started crushing on Jon first. She'd see him around the manor often, and she'd watch as he interacted with the Waynes or messed around with Damian. From what she could see, he seemed nicer than her family, so maybe she could be friends with him right? Plus, he's super cute!

And of course, this doesn't end well. I mean, this is a dark au. First off, Superman doesn't quite see humans as equals. Werewolves, they have his respect, and all the other races too. Yes, Clark Kent's adoptive parents were humans, and yes he loved them, but they were weak. Fragile even. And he made sure to instill that teaching in Jon as well.

Did Jon love his grandparents? Absolutely, but that meant that Ma and Pa stayed confined to Smallville and their house. They were too weak, they needed to be protected.

Lois also helped push Werewolf culture onto him as well. Weaker werewolves and humans were subservient to the stronger, and if necessary, could be killed and eaten. Jon didn't quite get the eating part, finding it quite gross actually, until he had his first taste of flesh. And, yikes, the boy was hooked.

In his mind, humans were either things to be taken care of (like pets) or food.

What's even more scary is that he's sweet around his family and friends, but those he deems as lesser? Well, let's just hope you don't catch him in a bad mood or piss him off. Which is why when weak, pitiful, abandoned (Y/n) Wayne comes up to him, he's insulted.

Why on earth did you even think you were worthy of talking to him?

Yes, he's seen you watching them, lurking around the manor, keeping your distance. It was quite annoying actually, he could practically hear your heart leaping out of its chest every time you saw him. He knew your intentions, trying to make friends with him.

He just looked down at you, eyes pooling with something nobody could explain, whilst you smiled at him and made small talk. Or tried to make small talk.

"Damian, should I snap her neck? Or is your family still insistent on the old laws?" Jon says.

You freeze, eyes widening in fear. Ah...you've made a severe lapse in judgment.

So much for a new friend.

"You know what? How 'bout I just go?" You quip nervously before trying to run off.

It's too bad Damian grabs you by the back of your shirt, basically choking you in the process. You let out a strangled noise as your body loses balance and lurches backward. When Damian lets go, your having a mad coughing fit, trying to get as much air as you could into your lungs.

Damian only makes an annoyed sound while Jon watches, a sick type of glee in his eyes. "When the time comes friend, you may feast with us. Now (Y/n), apologize to Jon."

You do not even have to think twice about that. "I'm sorry-I'm sorry! I shouldn't have approached you, I'm sorry." And at this point, you're crying. (reader is 14 when this happens)

And god doesn't that make Jon smile. He wouldn't deny, that you were pretty (I mean, you do have half of Bruce Wayne's DNA). But as much as he'd consider coveting you, you weren't worth that honor, no, he'd much rather taste your sweet, sweet flesh. (He could practically smell it wafting off you).

But alas, he'd have to wait.

But of course, in normal yandere fashion, he goes from wanting to eat you to wanting to eat you. The obsession starts to change around (Y/n)'s 16th birthday party that the Waynes throw. It's customary that all children do some public ball or whatever, so this was yours. Jon and his family are there obviously, and you're there as well, looking as miserable and tired as usual (and still somehow being the most beautiful thing in the building). However, he sees you light up in a way he's never seen you do before when your (what he's guessing) friends show up. They're human. They're weak, like you.

Seeing you interact with them, hearing you talk normally(super-hearing, duh) without fear, watching the way you laughed...He realizes he wants. And he wants bad.

Looks like you've got a new problem now.

Anyways, this is all I got!! I don't want to spoil the story more than I already have, but yeah, say hello to "absolutely bonkers Jon Kent". Hope you enjoyed!!!

[itaipava]

— little hints f1 boys would give that they have a crush on you.

˒ ⌕ LANDO NORRIS

he is interested in all your passions and hobbies: even if it is something he knows little about, he’ll ask you about your passions or things you like to do to have more to talk about with you and to get to know you even better. he also likes to research on the internet and send you videos that he finds about your favorite topics and, when you least expect it, he will start conversations about it, leaving you surprised but happy to know that he puts a lot of effort into connecting with your world.

˒ ⌕ GEORSE RUSSELL

he always includes you in his plans: whenever he travels, he talks as if you’re going too, without even inviting you directly. when you ask him about it, he usually says, “well, you’re going with me, aren’t you?” and when you can’t go because of work, he gets really frustrated, but he makes sure to keep you updated. he’s also always saying “we should check out that new place together… when are you free?” or “wouldn’t it be fun if you go with me for the next race?” he loves planting the idea of ​​future moments with you, and he loves it when they actually come true.

˒ ⌕ SEBASTIAN VETTEL

he loves teasing you: he always looks for a way to tease you, but always with a touch of flirting, which leaves you wondering if it's really just a joke or if he means something with it. he also hates it when someone else does this and he doesn’t hide his anger, and it’s at this moment that you also don't miss the opportunity to tease him; and the look in his eyes tells you that in fact, he doesn’t tease you just for fun.

˒ ⌕ CARLOS SAINZ

he always offers to help you with whatever you need: no matter what you need, he will do whatever it takes for you and to make your life easier. he will get you a coffee (and a sweet treat) in minutes when you say you want it. he will buy you something you said you needed but couldn't because you were too busy. he will come to your house to fix that broken drawer. he will always be there for you, even when you don't ask him directly, he will be there.

˒ ⌕ CHARLES LECLERC

he always remembers little details about you: sometimes he'll casually mention something small that you've said in the past, like your favorite snack or a specific memory. and sometimes you're delightfully surprised by how accurately he tells you these things because you could swear he'd forgotten or didn't really care, but he's always paying extra attention to you and everything you say is important to him.

˒ ⌕ LEWIS HAMILTON

he always compliments you a lot: but they’re not generic compliments that you always hear, he focuses on unique characteristics of yours that he really admires, like “you always have a way of making everything more fun and cool” or “you always seem to know the right things to say”, he’s always complimenting you, and he always means it.

˒ ⌕ OSCAR PIASTRI

he always looks for reasons to text you: he likes to send you news about your favorite singers, bands, authors or something he knows you’ll like. it’s things like “you popped into my head when i saw this, and i had to share” or “doesn’t this remind you of that joke you made?” and he always tries to keep the conversation going, no matter what.

˒ ⌕ LIAM LAWSON

he is always your biggest fan: whatever you do, he gives you all the support and help in the world. he is always the first one to show up when you need encouragement, whether it’s to wish you good luck at an event or send you a bouquet of flowers with a little note, or a brief message saying that he believes in you, and that he knows everything will turn out fine. he also loves talking about you to people like “did you see what y/n did? she’s amazing, right?” he is your biggest fan, and he doesn’t hide it from anyone.

˒ ⌕ MAX VERSTAPPEN

he looks at you a lot: when you two make eye contact, you have to look at something else first because he can’t get enough of you - and he loves it when you get embarrassed about it. he also loves to admire you when you’re distracted and don’t realize he’s looking at you; he loves looking at you and learning your mannerisms. to him, you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever seen, and even though sometimes you catch him staring at you and ask him with a smile what he’s looking at, he doesn’t stop or give you a serious answer, which creates a spark of curiosity in you.

[hogwartsstudentconfidential]

Dear students,

We have a few announcements for this week as well as some juicy gossip.

First things first, the quidditch season begins this upcoming weekend with our first game being Gryffindor vs Hufflepuff. If you are still holding tryouts for your new team mates, you're late so get on with it.

Secondly, there is a rumor of another lovely party coming around, hosted by none other than Ravenclaw but you didn't hear it from me. Busy weekend for parties knowing Gryffindor or Hufflepuff will probably host one this weekend as well. Do we have an epic party battle beginning on our hands?

Third, McGonagall seems to have taken quite the liking to none other than @marls-mckinn0n . She's given the girl more than three chances to renew her transfiguration project. And yet she still hasn't done it nor received a detention. Is this bias I see?

And now onto our juicy gossip for the week.

Starting off with Xenophilus Lovegood. We all know the boy has been pining after none other than Pandora Rosier for quite sometime now but does he not realize his untold infatuation with the girl is in fact losing him his prize.

However he does not see his epic portrayal of being just the girl's good friend as a ruse. He refuses to tell the girl how he feels and yet somehow claims to say exactly what he thinks. Might we have a liar on our hands?

Now for our next set of gossip. This one's been going around Hogwarts for quite some time now. It is said that none other than our well known Lucius Malfoy has kissed none other than Pandora Rosier at Sirius'Blacks big birthday bash this past weekend. Well I am here to confirm the rumors are in fact true. Our dear student council cameraman has in fact caught a photo of the two right before the girl ran off. Is a romance blossoming? Or is Malfoy just the world's worst kisser?

Now for Lily and Barty. Has anyone noticed how much Barty and Evan flirt with one another? Is it just casual bromance or something more lying just below the surface. I mean Barty's own defense against the idea was well let's say as believable as a humpback whale living in Hufflepuffs common room.

On another note Emmeline Vance drawing Mary MacDonald in a tree? Our sources say the two are very much interested in one another in a more romantic sense. What do you think are they in love or just two girl friends hanging out? We'll let you decide.

Dorcas Meadows and Marlene Mckinnon have also seemed to find comfort in one another with a recent post made by Dorcas stating they had in fact been on a date with one another.

Peter Peter petigrew has finally found himself a date or should I say two. Peter was spotted going on a date with none other than Skylar Faircloth and Gilderoy Lockhart. Is love in the air? If so let me suck in some air molecules because where is my romance?

Anywho has anyone seen Regulus Blacks new hair? It's pretty rad if I say so myself. Definitely unexpected from the youngest Black but such a great way to express his possibly new found style.

This seems like more romance than gossip this week but I suppose we'll see where the love blows once the winds roll in. Either way congratulations to all of you love birds and I will see you all next week with some more gossip!

Tah Tah, Darlings! 💋

@lilyevansoffical @james-the-amazing-potter @malfoy-lu @xeno-graphical @hjonesworld @marls-mckinn0n @wormy-loves-ch33se @lifeofthe-barty @little-king-official @siriuslynotadog @andromedashoax @looneymoonyy @xxrudolphuslestrangexx @emmelineandhervans @mary-mcdeal @cas-not-the-band @the-queen-bellatrix @alicethekindone @severusprince-snape @pandoras-nox @skylarfaircloth

[hford0311]

In my silence I adored you

*Avenger's Tower Fanfic*

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

Hey girl, what-cha doing down there? Dancing alone while I live right above you; I can hear your music playing; I can feel your body swaying

It didn't take a super soldier to hear the music that came out of your apartment. However, the one above you did understand the lyrics, not like most of the others that lived in the tower. He didn't mind it, sometimes, it became a soothing thing when the nightmares woke him up. The vibrations of the music and lyrics gave him was a micro-confirmation that he was no longer in the Soviet Union. No longer trapped under any ice.

"Okay, but how come you can't go one day without it?" Sam asked about your music during breakfast. You shrugged, "I have my space. It mostly stays in my space. Just like Redwing." Bucky snickered. Sam slightly aggressively turned towards his best friend-enemy man. "You live above her! What are your thoughts?" Bucky was slightly started by the question. "I-I don't mind it." You stuck your tongue out at Sam, putting your dishes in sink, and walked away. "You said you only like forties music." Sam accused as soon as you were out of ear shot. Bucky avoided eye contact before he cleared his throat, "I have to train with Steve."

One floor below me, you don't even know me, I love you

When that and a combination of other things didn't work, keep falling back into night terrors, Bucky would sit in front of his glass windows, curtains pulled back. At first, his eyes would wander the city lights. Eventually, his eyes would shift down below and see your shadow swaying and dancing to the music that was nearly never ending. It was a constant, consistency made reality easier to believe in. You were starting to become that in Bucky's word, even though you never would've known. He never mentioned it.

If you look out your window tonight, pulling the string with the note that's attached to my heart; Read how many times I saw you, how in my silence I adored you.

Sure, Bucky and you met occasionally during missions and Avengers' (aka Tony Stark's) parties. However, neither of you ever got beyond glances, brief introductions, and the incredibly rare argument-- sorry polite conversation-- that Steve, Sam, or Nat would drag the pair of you into. Both of you would roll your eyes at the dragger and their "opponent." Plus, the pair of you would almost always be against whatever Sam was arguing. Bucky appreciated the team effort from you. You were also a bit of a history buff which sometimes led to his ears pricking up to some type of familiarity that he could confidently nod along with or it would help him connect the dots with events that didn't include the Winter Soldier.

It took one of these little rantings of knowledge you had, Steve and Sam saw the captivated look that Bucky distantly gave you. They both also knew it wasn't just the words coming out of your mouth that Bucky was interested in, either. The pair of men shared an look. They knew their mission.

"Alright boys, it's been fun." You said getting up, heading towards your apartment. "Don't have too much fun without me." You waved as you hit the stairs.

The duo of men encircled Bucky. "You have a problem." Same stated as if it was obvious and something much worse than actuality. "Sam-" Steve tried to soften the blow. "No, he is in love with that girl and he hasn't said more than five words to her." Sam insisted. Bucky gave them both a confused stare. "Y/n, Buck, we can tell." Steve cleared up. Bucky's face went to complete denial. "No, I don't."

"Those eyes you gave her earlier tell a different story, Buck." Steve softly argued. Bucky groaned and put his hands in his face. "So what if I do? She's living a happy life...why.....why should I enter it more just to ruin it?" Sam and Steve gave each other soft looks. However, both of them were not going to give up that easily. "You're different now. You've said it yourself, you're not the Winter Soldier anymore." Sam stated. "Even if that's true...who said that she's going to....want me back." Doubt filled Bucky's entire body and mind. The pair of men were not going to change his mind in one night.

Only in my dreams did that wall between us come apart

Another night, Bucky added to looking down at your shadow. He wanted to go down and dance with you. Over seventy years ago, Bucky wouldn't waste another second to do. He would've swept you off your feet, literally. He would hold you close during the slower songs, inhaling your scent. Softly kissing your forehead, cheeks, lips... Bucky heavily sighed out loud, walking away from the window.

Oh my darlin', knock three times on the ceiling if you want me; twice on the pipe if the answer is no.

Sam and Steve showed up at your door. You gave them both a confused. "Come in...stop lurking at my door." You responded, letting them in. "So, how long have you liked Bucky?" Sam got straight to the point. You scoffed and slouched in one of your chairs. "Who said-" "Y/n, you never mentioned your knowledge about your so-called fascination with the 1930s before your first mission with him." Steve confronted you. You shrugged, "A girl can learn new things." Sam rolled his eyes. "They're both impossible, Steve." You sat up a little. "What do you mean by both of us?" For the third time that night, Sam and Steve shared a smirk and an idea.

Oh my sweetness *knock, knock, knock* means you'll meet me in the hallway; twice on the pipe *clang, clang* means you ain't gonna show*

You hummed the song you left playing in your room as you approached Bucky's door. You took a deep breath before knocked with the beat that Bucky could perfectly hear from your apartment below. He hesitantly answered. Then saw you, a small smile etched across his face. "It means that I want you, and that I want to meet you in the hallway-- granted next time it'll be on the ceiling but-" Your breath of words was stopped short by Bucky pulling you into his apartment.

~~ Sam looked at Steve, stifling a laugh, "There isn't really a pipe for her to say no to."

[verycoolusername1]

It's you that I'll be kissin'

Summary: In which Nico may not be the dream guy, but he makes up for it in his own special way.

Warning! Nothing just pure fluff

A/N: I'm so bored I decided to write to keep my mind off the state of my country(writing this after the election so-)

I was meant to publish this later(on Sunday) but I clicked the wrong button so now it's here

You watched Nico as he slept, his brown hair falling across his face. Your hand ghosts over his cheek before raising it down.

"I can feel you staring at me." Nico mumbles.

"Sorry," you apologize. "You just look so pretty when you're sleeping."

Nico huffed a laugh as he rubbed his eyes. "I would say thank you but that sounds creepy."

You slowly got up and opened the curtains, temporarily blinding you.

"Given this scenario, it's not creepy at all." You argued. "I'm gonna get in the shower, you wanna join me?"

"It is cheaper," He hums in agreement.

You took out your hand for him to take which he did, and the two of you went to take a shower and got dressed.

You were currently drying your hair before picking one of Nico's sweaters and went down to the kitchen to find him cooking breakfast.

You sniffed the air. "Smells amazing baby."

"Well I'm not trying to end up like last time." Nico says softly.

Your face grimaced at the memory. "Those cooking lessons I've been giving Jack been passed down to you it seems."

"He always brags of how good of a teacher you are, you not ever considering being one is still a shock." Nico flips a pancake.

You looked at him in shock. "Being around little kids is something I can't handle."

"Are you gonna be able to handle our kids one day?" Nico asked.

You nodded. "Well I already do, Tracker is always a good boy."

You both knew what Nico meant but he brushed it off seemly taking that as an answer

Your dog Tracker loves the both of you and never caused all that trouble. He was visiting his uncle Jack for the week.

Nico turns around and places two plates down for the both of you, he sits beside you.

"I have the morning off, afternoon skate today. I'm all yours." Nico eats a piece of bacon.

Your eyes gleamed with joy. "Really?" Nico nods.

"Hm ooh can we go to the bookstore down the street? I've been meaning to get this book, it was romance and get this the love interest was a hockey player." You chuckles.

"That sounds familiar." Nico jokes.

"Well I didn't need it when I had the real thing." You poked his side. "I just wanna see what all the hype is about."

Nico nods as he looks at you. "Anything else you want to do today?"

"We can cuddle, I definitely missed those." You took a bite of your pancake.

"But babe we cuddle all the-" You cut Nico off before continuing. "And do a movie marathon of high school musical."

"We don't have enough time for that." Nico told you.

"Oh I know, that's for when you get back from afternoon skate." You explained.

Nico realized your intentions and his face grew in horror. "Oh no."

You began to smile wickly. "We will watch it so many times you'll know all the words to 'I can't dance' it'll be so much fun!"

"You wouldn't." Nico said.

"I'll blast the soundtrack in the car." You teased.

You then ran off to put your shoes while Nico started doing the dishes.

"Hey Nico?" You called out.

"Yes?" He washed the plate with the sponge.

"You know I love you right? I don't wanna make you watch it if you don't want to, you're the best boyfriend I ever had and I really don't want to lose you and I'm talking too much, I'm going to shut up now." You rambled.

You finished with your shoes and let out a yelp as you got up, Nico stood there staring at you.

"Baby what's wrong-" Nico cut you off this time by kissing you softly.

"Do you really mean that?" Nico asked softly.

"Of course I do, how could I not? You're just you and that's all I could ever need." You answer without hesitation.

"I love you." Nico caressed your face.

"I love you too." You smiled softly. "Now hurry up we have no time to waste!"

[clementine-kesh]

#Tom: I've accepted these things about myself~ #(Maybe you should work on improving some of these things?) #Tom: I've accepted them v_v #There's a sort of sadness in that Tom's main issues upon introduction are that he never really wanted to be starfleet #and only joined to gain his dad's approval (to be rejected utterly by both after The Incident) #and the happiness he finds involves just basically being right back where he started Pre-The Incident only with a wife and kid now #He's matured definitely but ultimately he's back where he started: Daddy loves you as long as you're a good Starfleet boy #sort of like B'Elanna only B'Elanna has it even worse where she doesn't even have the assurance of being accepted by Starfleet & Society #etc after returning to Earth (She's Maquis & She's Klingon & Her parents aren't Admirals) #It really shows just HOW performative Tom's rebellion was even if he doesn't see it that way #Even if we didn't have the fact that he joined the Maquis NOT out of any moral dilemma he had about the Federation's actions #but essentially to stick it to his dad #A great microcosm of how Tom thinks is that when B'Elanna says she might wanna break up with him because of xyz he proposes to her #It's a large change which might seem like progress because of how flighty he is and his struggles with loyalty/ fidelity #but in actuality it's just a way to maintain the status quo without addressing any of the underlying problems B'Elanna brought up to him #Instead of 'how can I improve our relationship?' the question is 'how can I get her to stay?' #He IS an interesting character but ONLY if you're willing to admit that he's kind of a shitty guy from beginning to end even if the #narrative is trying to tell you otherwise #something interesting I noticed is that I don't THINK Tom ever worries about going back to jail?? #he was told that Starfleet would essentially just put in a good word* for him if he helped them out with finding the Maquis #but he doesn't worry about returning to jail upon returning to Earth #Meanwhile B'Elanna worries about being thrown in jail even though they've both been equally loyal to Voyager - B'Elanna #perhaps even more so (didn't get demoted for disobeying orders) #*NOT that he'd be free (via @bumblingbabooshka)

yeah!! as always you’ve really hit the nail on the head here wrt the inherent tragedy of tom paris being a character who is bad at the status quo because he’s so flighty and self-interested yet is never able to truly break free from it. and the show presents that as a happy ending!! very sad and fucked up. also this is why i think he and post-picard seven would have a lot in common lol

i do actually like that tom’s arc in voyager works out to be about a guy who sucks ass and slowly gets better but is still kind of a shitty person at the end of it. it’s unfortunate though that both the writers and many of the fans don’t seem to realize that just because he’s dealt with his daddy issues and found acceptance in the voyager family doesn’t mean he doesn’t still suck by way of being racist and misogynistic and generally self-centered

[bisnes-socks]

Terve! Would you consider doing a Mic Mac write up? I would be so interested to read it! When I first found Jere I listened to CCC and Party, and then I went to search things on him and the Mic Mac video was one of the first I listened to. I think I was in love after this. Kiitos!

Sure i can! Click right through ->

Mic Mac is early 2000's nostalgia to the max. I'm not sure how common knowledge it is with international fans, what Mic Mac actually is, so i'll go over it briefly.

Mic Mac, sometimes styled as MicMac, was a finnish clothing brand (not to be confused with a french luxury fashion brand of the same name). Mic Mac clothes were particularly popular with young people and teens. They became popular in the 70's and remained super popular with all young people until the 80's. In the 90's Mic Mac became more associated with hip hop inspired fashion, as they were the only local brand that managed to really score with their loose fit baggy jeans etc. They were still popular in the early 2000's especially with hip hop kids. Mic Mac closed down in the 2010's.

So the fact that he talks about Mic Mac loose fit clothes, and then all of the sound effects in the beginning of the song, like landline phones and dial-up internet, it all immediately takes us to like the turn of the century, maybe like 1999 or 2000 at the earliest, 2005 or 2006 at the very latest. So his childhood from maybe 6 or 7-ish to about 12 or 13-ish..? Immediate nostalgia!

He uses some clever language in this song. I want to give an example from the first verse: "olin merkillinen enkä esimerkillinen" meaning "i was weird, not exemplary". But as you can see, merkillinen (weird) and esimerkillinen (exemplary) are quite similar words in finnish. in fact they are built around the same root word: merkki. merkki means sign (a sign like a symbol or a sign like "give me a sign". not a street sign).

If you break down the word merkillinen, it actually means "with signs", but in practice means odd, weird or strange. Now, esimerkki has that same word in it, merkki, but it's a compound word: esi + merkki. Esi is a prefix that means pre or fore. so if you break down esimerkki, it means "fore sign" or "pre sign", but the meaning of the word in practice is example. And as i said, esimerkillinen, which would literally translate to "with fore signs", means exemplary.

So, he gets a very clever bar, being able to rhyme merkillinen with (esi)merkillinen, and getting a looot of information across like that.

In the first verse he also uses a word you might come across in his other work too: morkkis. His song Morgan means the same thing, morgan is a slang word for morkkis, which is short for moraalikrapula, meaning a moral hangover. Not sure if that term exists outside finland, but a moral hangover is feeling ashamed and not at all good about something stupid. Usually it's to do with drinking: you have both a physical hangover from drinking, and a moral hangover over the amount you drank and also doing dumb shit while drunk. But morkkis can be used quite flexibly to talk about other things you're ashamed of and recognise as being stupid things to do - as in this case, trying smoking as a kid. Again, a simple word but very informative, once you know what it means!

The chorus about the clothes and the whole second verse of him describing himself as someone intentionally annoying bigger boys, getting into fights and doing stupid shit like setting his friend on fire for a trick of some sort, stealing pokemon cards etc.- all of this is paving the way to understanding songs like Takavoltti. I so know this type too, i knew boys exactly like this when i was a kid lmao. But he's telling us he's always been mischievous, wild and a little bit crazy - and in this song he says the apple didn't fall far from the tree, saying his dad is like that too.

So i think Mic Mac is probably one of the more personal songs of his, those key songs to understanding the character. Mic Mac is all about him remembering the past, and i guess Takavoltti is like.. how did the crazy little boy from Mic Mac cope with everything that happened to him.

All in all, Mic Mac to me is a very sweet, very nostalgic song, that paints a lot of vivid pictures about Käärijä - or maybe Jere - as a person.

Let me know if there is anything specific in the song or any other song you'd like to know about, any questions or anything 💚

[oshinohoshi]

Oshi no Ko Chapter 165 thoughts

At this point we're just suffering.

I cannot get on board with Hikaru as a villainous mastermind. The fuck were we doing for the entire movie arc where he was shown in a sympathetic light? Why in ch 155 did he supposedly have a change of heart only for a plot twist to wreck everything?

It's not that Hikaru would have been absolved of responsibility for Yura's murder because he was abused. It's just that before the stupid Nino twist he wasn't an undeniable monster

Akasaka created someone more interesting, human, and who was flawed in a way that wasn't over the top, and then yanked it away

You're telling me that sad boy Hikaru who blamed himself for Ai leaving him began to manipulate Ryosuke and Nino mere months after the breakup? Please

Anyway... grief is terrible. This chapter was miserable to read

Some people are using this as an opportunity to shit on Kana which is ridiculous. Is slapping a corpse in front of his family not great? Yeah. Does she have every damn reason to? I'd say so

Heartbreak is not just a phrase. It actually hurts. It can cause chest pain, headaches, shortness of breath. There's something called broken heart syndrome which can be caused by grief or stress. It affects the heart's ability to pump blood effectively

Point being that grief is physically and emotionally painful and a breakdown is totally normal

I agree with Gotanda's reasoning about releasing 15 YRL, however the film is now inextricably tied to Aqua's death

Where is Ai in all this? Why isn't she on this poster??? I thought this was a film about her life

Her name may very well never be mentioned again despite being the backbone of this story

This is why cult leader Hikaru is the best character. He's the only person who has remembered her since ch 155

Judging by her white stars, Ruby is probably going to pull through. While I don't want a nihilistic end, we have ONE chapter left. Can this really be earned?

And can it be done in a way that doesn't accidentally portray Aqua's murder-suicide in a positive light in the sense that Ruby living on and achieving her dreams reinforces what Aqua died for?

Next chapter: So here we are, very nearly at the end of all things. I am glad you are here with me, OnK fan community. It's been a journey.

Send your good vibes to marillust, a super talented fanartist, who is really sad about losing Aqua. They're cycling between depression and denial and I really get that.

I feel like I have to defend my dislike of this ending by talking about previously established themes, bad twists, etc. in order to not be shouted down by the "what did you expect? This was always a tragedy" crowd, but I'm just gonna say it.

I wanted Aqua to move on and be happy! I wanted Ai's wish for her kids to grow up healthy to be fulfilled. I wanted Aqua to call both his mothers "mom." I wanted him to value his life and see that the people around him loved him and needed him.

I didn't want Ai's death to be meaningless. I didn't want Ruby to lose her most important person. I didn't want Miyako to lose her son, Kana to never get to say "I love you," and Akane to never rebuild her relationship with Aqua.

I wish we'd gotten this and this and a spinoff manga about this.

All right, it's fine. Deep breaths. Time to stare at Ai art until I feel better. Here's a sketch Mengo did of her riding a dragon. Isn't that cute?

[peachymaryobrien]

Lockwood is such a caring person, we all know that, and I love the way it's being portrayed. It's in the small details and gestures, especially when it comes to Lucy. This particular scene is so telling bc imagine being Lucy for a moment. New town, new home, you have no money, no one to talk to. Everything is unknown, you're not sure about your choices, and it's scary even for the bravest of us. On top of that you also have to live with two teenage boys now, who can turn out to be bad people. And yet the way Lockwood smiles brings so much comfort instantly. You can see he's not sure how to act around her, but he's respectful and interested in her being okay. This smile is charming yet makes her feel welcomed and safe.

[ivoryghostyy]

Hello-hello , how are you?

How you think Cirius would react to having an extrovert / social darling

── .✦ 𝘾𝙄𝙍𝙄𝙐𝙎 ᝰ.ᐟ

⌗ㆍTHE GOLDEN BOYノ, ⌗ㆍUNIVERSITY AUノ, ⌗ㆍTOP STUDENTノ

「 aaaaaand i'm back.. somewhat. anyways, i'm alright, thank you for the ask! wow, people are actually interested in Cirius? gosh, i'm so flattered. i hope you guys enjoy this little scenario i cooked up. also, new layout! (kind of of) 」

「 tw: he's a jealous little guy, possessive thoughts/behaviour, obsessive thoughts/behaviour, implications of confinement, honestly, he just wants you. ;-; 」

"please focus," he calls you, heaving a quiet sigh. you've been distracted for a while now, constantly caught up in the chatter of passing students. he runs his hand through his light pink hair, forcing himself to calm down. it's nothing new, he reminds himself. you're the campus crush, after all—aside from him—but he can't help but feel the teeniest, tiniest bit annoyed.

Cirius’ fingers dig into the base of his pen. “sorry, we're quite busy right now. could you continue talking some other time?” his lips curl into a warm smile, shifting to his signature facade. it takes them a while to compose themselves, but the students eventually leave, quick to fold to his request.

predictable. who can resist the resident heartthrob's charming smile? you, apparantly. much to his dismay.

you turn back to him with a sheepish smile gracing those pretty lips. goodness, you have no right to look that kissable. if only you weren't so popular, then it would have been much easier to have you all to himself. but oh, well, no matter. though it'll take a bit longer than he'd like, he'll have you one way or another-

“Cirius?” ah, right. he's supposed to be studying with you.

“yes, lovely? i apologize, i was a bit distracted.” you don't seem to mind, only continuing to discuss a topic he already knows. it's funny, really. you're supposed to be one of the top students, and yet you didn't bat an eye when he asked you to help him study. he's top one for a reason, darling. don't you think it's suspicious?

oh, but he's certainly not complaining! this only means he gets to spend more quality time with you. who knows? maybe you'll finally realize that the small lingering touches, the subtle glances, and the openly protective—and borderline possessive—demeanor he's displaying isn't him just being friendly.

Cirius is a hard worker; if only to get what he wants. it's a shame that you caught his eye; if you hadn't, then you surely wouldn't be in such a tough situation right now… ah, but if he hadn't met you then, he's sure he would have met you some other way.

he leans his chin against his hand, staring lovingly at your oblivious form. he used to think fate was a ridiculous concept, but now that he has you, he can understand why people believe in it so much. a world without you is unimaginable, so as his olive green eyes bore into yours, he wonders how long you'll stay ignorant to the madness swirling within.

but when you do find out—and he's sure you will. you're his smart little darling, after all—he hopes you don't hate him too much. he's not a big fan of sharing. a caged bird is safer than one left in the wild, don't you think? he’ll take proper care of you, he swears, so do forgive his selfishness.

[lurkingshan]

Every You, Every Me

Story 2

Workplace romance??

A three piece suit and parted bangs, this is indeed an office bl and the set up is very BossBabe

LMAO grandma, not single and ready to mingle

Another tiny nod to aro people, someone working on this show is def in the fam

GONG YOO MENTION

They've done a good job making Mick look older in this ep

Grandma watches BL and the caretaker is a fujoshi, amazing

But like all bosses in a workplace romance, he is married to his job

LOL does this brand presentation really just say "branding" in a little circle, how lazy are you lady

I really approve of this teal/cream/brown color palette they have them in for this ep

Not as into this relationship dynamic though, I liked it when Top was more confident and flirty and here he's just being bossed around

Hahahaha spoke too soon kill him with competence

Hey I recognize this background music what is it from

Oh Top's name is First in this one. I admit I'm not paying much attention to the names bc I know they're gonna keep changing. Which is INTERESTING from a lore perspective.

Iced americano with no ice, why are you like this

The BossBabe energy grows including inappropriate flirting in the office smh

Why do you have so many buttons unbuttoned at the office sir

This boy trained in eating ramen cutely, he must have watched a bunch of kdrama

LOL if you're this much of a lightweight why are you drinking at work, First

He's really reminding me a lot of Book in BossBabe, not quite as chaotic though

Those clothes are so big on him lol

Defending the boss to your colleagues is not a good way to make friends in the workplace, First

Oh now they're delivering snacks to the staff, just like in BossBabe

How are they always in color coordinated outfits, is this a soulmate thing?? Is the universe guiding them to the matching garments every morning

Grandma really had to decode that for him, huh

You see what happens when you're mean to your grandma who is just trying to help you!

This episode is feeling draggy, it's definitely too long and there's a lot of back and forth that feels unnecessary

Oooh pretty pool scene

I like that First recognized that he can't pursue him if he stays his subordinate and grandma's spy

More familiar background music, they must be pulling from a generic library

CUTE confession scene

Ehhhhh not a fan of the blushing maiden schtick

"He got promoted"?? Just like BossBabe, this show does not understand work/life boundaries LMAO

I didn't like the concept of this one as much as the first. It hewed very closely to some bad tropes that I don't love in workplace romance. I hear the next one is a two-parter with a pretty different vibe, though.

[pinacoladamatata]

blink and you'll miss it moments around skyhold....