#i pressed a button (so watch what i can do)

[fl3shm4id3n]

hiii i love your writing sm and i was wondering if u took requests! If you do i was wondering if you would do a fic of thanos where him and fem reader both take the pills from and his cross and they have seggs and its js really rough and everything😇

ʜɪɢʜ ᴏɴ ʟᴏᴠᴇ

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐝𝐫𝐮𝐠. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐢𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬. 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 '𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬' 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐞𝐱𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐯𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐭 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 ��𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐬 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐭, 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐰 𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐥𝐮𝐬𝐭.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ᴛʜᴀɴᴏꜱ (ᴄʜᴏɪ ꜱᴇᴜɴɢ-ʜʏᴜɴ) x ꜰᴇᴍ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Tw: SMUT, taking substances/drugs, under the influence type sex, swearing, dry humping, aggressive make out, lip biting, titty grabbing, mating press, missionary, spitting, hair pulling, unprotected sex (if you're gonna get silly, wrap your willy), reader has the implant or on the pill (either or), a bit of aftercare.

A/N: They weren't until now, I got better to do so, enjoy :D

Masterlist

ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴏ ᴀɴʏ ꜰᴜʀᴛʜᴇʀ, ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴꜱꜰᴡ/ꜱᴍᴜᴛ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ, ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡɪꜱʜ ᴛᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴀᴅ, ꜱᴋᴇᴅᴀᴅᴅʟᴇ, ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡɪꜱʜ ᴛᴏ ᴘʀᴏᴄᴇᴇᴅ, ᴛʜᴇɴ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴀᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ʀɪꜱᴋ.

That night, Thanos had come home a bit too excited. He quickly took off his shoes in the doorway and quickly ran to the bedroom. Where you were located. "Baby! I'm home and I got something!" He said, seen you lying in bed, scrolling through your Tiktok. You looked up at him, then sat your phone down onto the pillow and sat up. "What is it?" You asked, as he sat down on the bed, in front of you. He took out his cross. "I got it right here." He said, as you watched he opened the cross. Revealing pink, blue and yellow pills. "Candy?" You said, while looking at the colorful tablets.

"Nah baby, this isn't just candy. This is the good shit. Fucking crazy shit." He said, he was twitching with excitement. "What is it? Ecstasy? Ketamine?" You asked, as he took out a pink pill. "Even better than that. I call them, Infinity Stones." He said, making you roll your and playfully push him. "So what? Do you just swallow them or crush them? What?" You asked. "You can, but for much faster results. You chew them." He said, as he held up the pill between his fingers. "Open wide. Ahhh." He said, as he opened his mouth wide. You then opened your mouth, slightly sticking out your tongue a bit. You watched how he placed the pill on your tongue. You closed your mouth, then processed to chew on the pill.

It tasted just like any other pill, nothing real special. But the after taste tasted sweet, kind of like Pepto gum flavor. You wondered if Yellow and Blue had their own after taste. "I don't feel anything." You said, as you swallowed the now chewed up pill. "Just wait a few minutes, it'll kick in soon." He said, as he chewed his own pink pill. You hummed, then laid back on the bed, but as soon as your head hit the pillow. You felt your heart beat picking up. It felt weird, but calming in some way. Not only that, but your face began to heat up, as well as your body. Holy shit did that kick in fast. You suddenly felt all the adrenaline in your body kick in.

"Holy shit!" You said, as your eyes began to dilate. "Right? Crazy shit." He said with a chuckle, seen your rookie reaction. "I'm like, really hot." You said, as your took off the shirt that belonged to Thanos. All he did was chuckle, watching you take off his shirt. Now you laid there, with your shirt off. Not sure on what to do now, you just laid there, while Thanos just looked at you. With admiration in his eyes. You looked at him, lazily raising a brow. "Whatya looking at?" You asked, while Thanos ran his fingers up and down your stomach, slightly tickling your belly button. "Nothing, you just look cute right now." He said, making you smile and giggle, your face burning up a bit more.

The room grew quiet, both you and Thanos simply stared at one another. It felt like while, but only a minute passed. He then proceeded to lick his lips and smirk. "You thinking what I'm thinking?" He asked, while he somewhat crawled to you, now hovering over you. "Is it weird that I am?" You asked, while looking at him. Directly at his dilated orbs. He didn't even say anything. He leaned down and kissed you right on the lips. Without hesitation, you wrapped your around his neck and kissed him back.

You were basically eating each other's faces. Lips locking and teeth crashing against each other. As you kissed, you felt his warm hand get a hold of your left breast, giving it a good yet harsh squeeze, making you hum against his lips. You then wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer with your les. You felt his now rock hard cock slightly rub against your clothed cunt. You couldn't help but run a hand through his purple crazy hair, giving it a small tug, making Thanos groan.

That made him slightly bite your bottom lip and gently tug at the skin, having your wine underneath him. Spotting his name 'Thanos' inked into your skin. He remembered the day you got it tattooed. It was painful, but you loved it. He pulled away from your lips. Allowing you both to catch your breath. "It's so fucking hot." He said, he then took off the hoodie he was wearing along with the shirt underneath, in a quick manner. Almost desperate to strip. Once he was shirtless, he leaned back down and kissed you again. As you both kissed, you began to unclasp the small hooks of your bra. Then you'll the straps down your shoulders, exposing your breasts to the cool air. Immediately erecting your nipples.

The kiss was even messier than before. Your tongues were literally battling each other, desperate for dominance. Neither of you cared for that, you were far occupied on other things. As you both kissed, you felt Thanos beginning to grind his hips against yours. "Oh!" You moaned against his lips, feeling his hard cock rubbing against your now dripping pussy. You felt even more wetter than most times. What is it the drug or just the fact that Thanos was being slightly more rough with you. Whatever it was, it felt amazing.

Soon after, Thanos pulled away, then began to pull down his sweatpants and his boxers. You also removed the basketball shorts that you wore, which also belonged to him and you took off your obviously soaked panties. Thanos then grabbed your legs, spreading them and pushed down down to your shoulders. He then got right between your legs, lining his cock against your entrance. You shivered when you felt your folds getting caressed by his angry red tip. "What? Not gonna eat me out?" You teased. "No time, I need to be! Inside!" He said, thrusting his cock inside you. That harsh thrust made you let out a moan like scream. Normally, he'd finger you or eat you out before fucking you. But instead, he just went for it.

Thanos began pounding into you and into hard. It made the bed creak loudly and shake the same rhythm as his thrusts. He was going faster then normal, you had your arms around his neck. Holding onto him for dear life. You whined and moaned against his shoulder, as he continue to pound you, with no mercy. His cock was stretching your insides, it burned in a way, but it felt so pleasurable. It felt as if he was trying to split you in half, he easily could.

You then felt the back of your hair getting pulled, causing your head to tilt backwards. You moaned loudly as you felt your scalp slightly burn by the hard grip Thanos had on the back of your hair. Almost directly pulling at your roots. You looked at him, weakly, but the adrenaline and excitement was keeping you from giving up. "Open your mouth." He moaned, obediently, you opened your mouth as much as you could. With his free hand, he grabbed a hold of your chin and cheeks, making your mouth widen a bit more. Then he spat right in your mouth. That surprised you. He had never done that, not even suggested him spitting in your mouth before.

That was hot. You never thought you'd be into something so vulgar. Soon after, Thanos kissed you again, pounding into you as much as he could. All that could be heard in the room was your skin slapping against each other, as well as the bed creaking even more. "AH! FUCK!" Thanos moaned loudly, as he kept pounding into you. He moved your legs back down, placing them around his waist. He loved the way your legs would wrap around his waist. The way the tighten as you were closer to cumming.

As soon as he felt your legs tighten around his waist. He knew that you were about to cum. He looked down at his cock disappearing, he spat down at your clit. Then began to give you harsh clit harsh and hard rubs. Making you twitch by the sudden action. You threw your head back against the pillow and loudly moaned. Almost like a phonographic moan, except your moans were real and he knew it. "Fuck! I'm about to!-" Thanos moaned loudly, as he continued to thrusts and his fingers rubbed rubbing at a fast pace. You notice how he was going weak too, but he wasn't going to stop. Not until you and him came.

You then felt your insides explode, as you came. You let out a cry like shriek as your juices had released all over your body. You felt Thanos pumping his hot load inside you. As you tried catching your breath, you could still feel Thanos coating your insides with his cum. He dropped on top of you once he pulled out. He was beat and you knew it. He had his eyes closed as he tried catching his breath, while the side of his face rested against your chest. He was coated in sweat, as if he had come back from a run. You softly ran your nails down his damp back. Giving somewhat of a message. "You okay?" You asked, while Thanos just hummed. "Yeah, just beat." He responded, remaining in his current position. You continued your soft movements as he relaxed. You couldn't help but yawn, feeling tired. "I'm sleepy." You said. "Yeah, that happens." He mumbles. "Just sleep it off." He said, wrapping his arms around your waist, using your chest as a pillow. You were tired, like really tired. You closed eyes, as you continued to run your nails softly against his back. Until finally falling sleep. You loved it, hopefully you'll do it again.

[aliwritex]

franco thoughts: 18+ car quickie 1.6k

“You should’ve stayed back, I know you get car sick”

“It’s fine, we’re not even moving anyway.”

You had been stuck in traffic for a while. You didn’t really know where you were but it was a busy avenue. The car was quiet, the radio barely audible and none of you saying much as the sky darkened above you. You had been sent to get some missing ingredients for dinner before the sun even set.

Now it was night, you hadn’t even gotten to the market yet and you were bored out of your mind. The only thing keeping you entertained was your shirtless boyfriend.

He was coming out of the pool when his dad threw the car keys at him, giving him the chore. You were kind of glad that he was such a stubborn person and didn’t listen to you telling him to change before getting in the car, he only threw a shirt over his shoulder instead.

You wish you could stop starring but the thing was, you had been staying with his family for the holidays so alone time was a tad more difficult. You had tried the first night you got there, of course, you missed each other and couldn’t stop your hands, but the next morning at breakfast you could see his family avoiding eye contact — so there was no way you’d do that again. But it had been more than a week now, and God, you were horny.

You couldn’t help but reach out for his thigh, he looked down at your hand and covered with his.

“You okay?”

He watched you nod and moved his hand away from yours after a squeeze. He didn’t get it. You removed your hand from his thigh and took it to your shirt undoing the first few buttons, exposing your chest and the bikini top that barely covered it. It took him a while to notice but when he did his eyes rolled back into his head.

“What are you doing?”

“Just getting comfortable, looks like we’re gonna be here a while.”

You leaned over to kiss him on the cheek, but not without your hand pressing hard on his thigh. When you sat back on your seat he was glaring at you.

Another idea popped in your head when you realized the first wasn’t working so well. Your hands dropped to your jean shorts, slowly unbuttoning them. Franco started watching you, eyes on your body as you struggled to get out of your shorts.

You heard him curse something in Spanish and it only made you smile as he moved the car a couple meters forwards. You spread your legs open on his passenger seat, only your bathing suit covering your bottom half. You caught him shaking his head from the corner of your eye as your fingers danced around your clothed middle.

“You’re fucking impossible” he muttered

“C’mon, Franco, let me touch you, I miss you so much” you practically whined “please?”

He didn’t say anything at first, just turned back to the road, relaxing and spreading his legs wider.

“You see that street over there?” he pointed through the glass “I’ll stop there to sort you out.”

“If you can last till we get there” you teased, dipping your hand into his shorts before he could even stop you.

He was starting to get hard, you could feel him becoming warmer and stiffer in your hand. His entire body tensed up for a second before he relaxed again. Franco shook his head when you started massaging him. Your palm ran up and down his shaft till you felt him completely hard in your hand, soft sighs leaving his lips.

You pulled away just to move in your seat, settling into a position where you could simply bend over the center console and face his crotch.

"Mi amor, please"

"Please, what?" you teased, lifting yourself till your lips where brushing his cheek, "want me to stop? Just say the word, yeah?" you kissed his face as your hand pulled him out of his shorts, making his eyes screw shut, still not saying anything. "Right, just enjoy, love"

You bent over again, your lips meeting his tip in a quick kiss before you spit on him. He groaned as you paused, waiting for the spit to drip down his shaft. A few more licks, quick kisses and soft touches till you sat back in your seat, leaving Franco confused, looking at you.

"The traffic lights, Franco" you told him, nonchalantly. He drove the car for a couple more meters before turning back to you. "I need you to concentrate, you don't wanna hit anyone in this state, do you?"

Your hand dropped to his lap again, grabbing him.

The spit helped as you started moving your hand up and down. You were being extremely slow with your movements, partly to tease him and partly so he would last.

Your hand worked skillfully around him, squeezing, thumb pressing his veins and his tip, making curses and moans fall from his lips. You tried to stop when he had to drive but it just made him more desperate.

"Don't cum yet, I really need you." you whispered to his cheek.

He nodded, flicking the turning signal on. The noise driving you insane for the next couple of minutes till he finally reached the street. He struggled to turn, almost scraping the car in front but nothing was gonna stop him. He parked behind a building, immediately pulling the handbrake.

"Come here" he whispered, pulling the seat back.

You chuckled as you climbed over him, sitting on his thighs. He finally felt your lips on his, soft and warm as they moved together in a rushed kiss. His tongue pushed into your mouth as his hand dropped to your middle.

You felt his fingers tug your bikini to the side, easily sliding between your wet folds. A sigh left your lips when they pressed against your clit, making you pull away from the kiss. He smiled at your reaction and let his lips drag down the side of your face, meeting your neck.

Franco kissed and nibbled at your neck as you teased each other with your hands, sighs and soft moans leaving your mouths as you did.

“Fran, please” you whined, both of your hands going to his hair, tugging on it.

He nodded and pulled on the side tie of your bikini, making it come undone. Franco didn’t even bother with the other side, he just lifted your hips up and pushed you down on him. Satisfied groans left both of your mouths, your foreheads meeting.

“Ai, mi amor, missed this so much” he whispered, diving his hand into your hair to pull you into a kiss.

Your hands rested on his bare chest as you started moving. His own hand running up your waist to tug your bikini top out of his way. You moaned into his mouth when his cold palm met your breast, your nipples hardening because of the temperature.

Your hips moved against his in a slow rhythm, enjoying the drag of his skin against your clit as he kissed you. That was till he dropped both of his hands to your hips, guiding them up and down. Franco then wrapped his arms around your waist, hugging you close to him.

He bounced his legs to help you move on him. His chin rested on your chest as he looked up at you, watching your face twist in pleasure. He couldn’t care less about his pleasure as he saw you use his body for your own.

You were shocked as you felt the warmth of pleasure grown inside of you so early but when your boyfriend took his hand between your bodies to circle at your clit there was no doubt that your orgasm was creeping up on you. Your walls were clenching around his cock as every single muscle in your body tensed up. His legs still bouncing to work you entirely as you reached your high.

He watched and felt all the little reactions your body had as you moaned. Your hands closed into fists on his hair, making him groan at the sting. Franco almost spilled inside you as you convulsed around him but he managed to ground himself, waiting for you to come down and finally pull out.

You smiled and kissed him, sitting back in his thighs. “You could’ve come inside, you know I don’t mind” you whispered to his neck, still lost in the bliss of your orgasm.

“No, I wanted to cum in your mouth, don’t want you to be a mess while we shop”

You smirked and moved away from him, settling back on your seat before bending over to take him in your mouth. He tasted like you when you first took him in so you made sure to clean him off, licking and sucking away all your wetness from him. His hand dropped to your hair, pulling it away from your face before he bucked his hips into your mouth, holding you in place as he shot ropes of cum.

A Spanish curse left his lips in a sigh as he finished and finally let go of you. “‘m sorry”

“You don’t need to apologize, love.” you pecked his cheek, “if I wanted you to stop you would’ve known.”

“You okay, though?” he asked as he tucked himself away.

“Perfect, love” you gave him a peck on the cheek.

You fixed your clothes as he took off and it turned out, there was a better way to the store, you were there in no time.

[shigarosie]

Butterfly, Fly Away (part one)

Aizawa feels out of breath. Despite the fact that he drove to the daycare center, it feels like he ran the whole way. He doesn’t run inside, but he does do an awkward half jog to get in there quickly without looking like some sort of lunatic. 

The room, as expected, is a disaster. Kids are crying. Drawings have been torn up and thrown around, chairs have been overturned. Eri is at the center of it all, with an uninterrupted scream at the top of her lungs that he’s sure has lasted at least a full minute by the way her red face is slowly starting to show hints of purple. 

Eri has been kicked out of another daycare. 

She skips alongside him merrily as he walks back to the car with him, her little purple bag in one hand while the other holds her own pudgy little palm. You would think that she was a perfectly well behaved little angel if you saw her now, no traces left of her hurricane of an outburst mere minutes ago. 

There was a familiar throbbing pain forming like a tight band around his skull. 

Once they were in the car, Eri kicking her feet in her carseat and playing with the straps of her bag, Aizawa couldn’t help but spare glances at her in the rearview mirror when he stopped at all the stop signs on the way back to the high school. His daughter was the best, most important thing in his life. He loved her more than anything, no matter what. He just didn’t know what to do with her anymore. 

As he parked in his designated spot, five minutes left of his lunch break, Eri hurriedly tried to unbuckled her carseat before Aizawa could get to her. It was a game she liked to play, despite the fact that her clumsy fingers hadn’t yet grown strong enough to fully press the big red button that released the clips. But Aizawa didn’t get out of the car to come around and unbuckle her yet. 

“Hurry daddy!” she taunts, grunting as her fingers slip as they always do. “I’m gonna beat you this time!” 

“What happened, Eri?”

She paused, looking up at him with those eyes that look almost too big for her head in the sweetest way. She looked unphased. Unashamed, unapologetic. 

“I didn’t like it there,” was the simple answer she gave. “Daycare is stupid.” 

“But honey,” he sighed, “you know that you have to go. And don’t use the word stupid, please.” 

The little girl starts to shift uncomfortably in her seat, no longer trying to unbuckle her restrictive straps, but attempting to pull them down her shoulders instead. 

“Why?” she asks, an edge beginning to form where a smooth curve used to exist in her voice. “Why can’t I just come with you to big kid school?” 

“Because next year you’ll have to start going to kindergarten, so you can learn new things and make friends. I won’t be able to just drop everything and come get you. Instead you’ll be forced to either sit in your classroom or sit in the principal’s office for hours until big kid school is done.”

Eri slumps in her seat. The tears are welling in her eyes and Aizawa has to look above her head in order to keep talking with her. 

“This is the fourth daycare you’ve been kicked out of, honey. That’s not good.”

Eri turns her face away. “Guess you’ll have to maybe take me to a new one then,” she says. 

“I can’t.” At this she perks up, catching the feeling of excitement in those little hands of hers before it slips from her grasp and runs off when she sees her dad do that thing where he drags his hand down the entirety of his face and then rubs at his scruffy jaw. “This was the last daycare in our area that I can afford. No more daycares.”

“So I’ll have to come to school with you now, right?” she asks, hopeful eyes shining with a few embarrassed tears that hadn’t yet gone away. 

Aizawa doesn’t say anything. He gets out of the car, opens her door, and helps her out of her seatbelt. 

“Come on,” he says, holding her bag in one hand and her palm in the other. “Today you get to watch my students take a pop quiz.” 

Class 1-A loves Eri. They love to dote on her, like she’s their princess and they are nothing but her humble servants. They don’t bat an eye when she shows up during the second half of the day anymore, used to their visibly stressed teacher sitting her down with coloring pages and an old cd player (there’s no way in hell he would ever put an ipad in her hands) in a poor attempt at a fort under his desk. They felt bad for him, really, knowing how hard he’s had it since… 

They also like to sneak little snacks and fidget toys to her when he’s not looking. They get passed down the rows of desks like contraband, making a wide loop around the goody-goodies that rat them out. They think they’re helping, really they do. And it’s endearing. But it makes it more difficult for him, in all actuality, when he’s trying to convince Eri that his classroom is not the place for her to be and they’re doing everything to make it friendly for her. They even stopped swearing when Eri made her little visits. (At least, they tried their best.) 

“They’re like her gang of babysitters,” Aizawa explains to Mic as he pulls out a bottle of scotch from the baby proofed cupboard above the fridge and two glasses. Eri had been put to bed an hour prior, after having her bath and getting her hair braided and insisting on TWO stories tonight; one from her dad and one from her godfather. “It just makes her want to be there even more.”

“Maybe that’s what you two need,” Mic says from the sofa, helping himself to some chips and dip. 

“What?”

“You know, a babysitter,” the blond elaborates. “Or a nanny, in this case.”

Aizawa’s brow furrows. His lips turn down. Mic can already tell this is going to take a lot of selling. “What’s the difference?”

“Nannies do more,” Mic says, his mouth partially full. He gave up on manners around Aizawa sometime around… well, they met in middle school, so he probably never had them in the first place. “Babysitters are for, like, date nights and stuff.” 

“I definitely don’t need one of those,” Aizawa grumbles, handing Mic his glass before settling onto the couch himself. 

“Nannies are more long term,” Mic continues, not addressing the comment, “they would stay with her at home the whole day while you work, maybe do some tidying or run some errands for you. It’s like daycare, but more personal and actually not at all like daycare. You just have someone watching your kid all day.” 

Aizawa groans, gulping down most of his drink in one go. “I don’t want some stranger in my house alone with my kid. That sounds terrible.” 

“Man, they call them nanny cams for a reason. And when you use the websites they do background checks.” 

“How do you know so much about nannies?” Aizawa asks suspiciously. Mic had no kids. He had no nieces or nephews. All he had were a bunch of elementary school students singing the same ten annoying songs off key. 

“Remember the lady with the two kids I was hooking up with while they were with their dad? She had a nanny.” 

“And how long after you stopped seeing the mom did you start sleeping with the nanny?” Aizawa asked, an eyebrow raised. 

“Hey, it’s completely a coincidence that I met her nanny out at a bar one night, okay? Swear on my life. Not like I ever met her before then, I never met the kids!” 

“Whatever,” Aizawa says, downing the last of his drink before pouring another. “I’m not getting a nanny.” 

“You at least gotta think about it,” Mic says, “you don’t have many other choices here. Unless you want to call your mom and have her-” 

“Absolutely not.” 

“Then I recommend you take the weekend to research nanny websites,” Mic says. “You can’t bring your kid to work with you every day. It’s not good for her. It’s not good for you.” Mic leaves his unfinished drink on the coffee table, knowing Aizawa will just drink the rest himself after he leaves. “I should tuck in for the night. Think about it, alright? And I’m right down the street if you ever need anything. And-” 

“Good night, Mic.” 

“Later.” 

Aizawa stays on the couch, sitting in the same spot, staring at the wall in front of him for an hour before he finally sighs to himself. 

“Don’t have many other choices,” he grumbles as he pulls his laptop out of his work bag and starts his google search, Mic’s unfinished glass of scotch in hand. 

‘best nanny websites’

[bunnyinvanilla]

sugar daddy!john price x booklover (bookworm) sugar baby fem!reader series

🍧| warnings: fluuuuff!!! laaarge age gap, price is in his 40s and reader is 21, sugar daddy/sugar baby relationship (they’re in love lol), silly ppl, im basically reader lol

you’re standing in front of john’s desk, in your pink converse and with glossed, shiny lips “daddy?” your shy, timid voice draws his attention away from the secret file he was working on.

“what is it, angel?” his eyes are on you, but his mind is quiet elsewhere, and you don’t blame him, he’s been so busy lately, all kind of missions to prepare and work on, paperwork to do, order storage for the bar. you didn’t wanna bother him :(

“uhm, there’s this..this trend going on,” you start, words lingering into thin air as you hesitate and trail off, his brows narrowing at the word trend. was this going to be one of those young people things he didn’t understand?

“where couples go to the bookstore together, the guy gives his girl five minutes to look around for any books she wants, and then gets her however many books she can hold and carry within that set time…”

he’s never heard of it, he doesn’t have social media, and has no idea what a trend it — your old, grumpy man :,(

john’s frown dissolves, and he leans his broad shoulders back against his chair, quickly digging his hand into the pocket of his trousers, then jacket.

he pulls out a leather wallet, opens it, and picks up a credit card — you blink, towards the card and then at him, a sweet confused expression on your face.

“here, doll” he hands it over to you, eyes distractingly reading something he’d written on the file, his mind and focus drifting back to his work.

“what is that?” you ask, ditzy in your own cloudy mind, “I don’t want your credit card,”

he looks up at you again, a puzzled expression now replacing the previous concentration. “what do you mean sweetheart? why not?”

“Im not asking for your money, im asking you to come with me, pretty please?” you hold your hands together, a sparkling, puppy dog pleading look in your eyes. “wanna get more books”

“oh love, daddy can’t go right now, he’s got too many things to do, princess, do you want me to ask one of the boys to go with you?”

“no, i wanna go with you” you pout softly, sitting on the edge of his desk and looking at him over your shoulder “can we go when you’re done sir? that’s the whole point of the trend, couples going together”

“you could go with my card and buy the entire bookstore, doll?”

“but then I wouldn’t be spending time with you..” you let your legs swing over the edge, looking down at all the files and scattered papers.

he lifts his arm up, tugging at the sleeve of his buttoned down shirt and looking at his watch. “can you wait an hour? let daddy read this bad mean criminal’s file case?”

you smile, leaning over the desk, and press your glossed lips against his, giving him a quick, sweet kiss. “of course daddy, thank you, love you, you’ll help me pick books from my wishlist”

you jump off the desk, send him a flying kiss and go to your — shared — room. He licks the strawberry gloss off his mustache, smiling at the door. You’re probably the only sugar baby in the world who asks for his attention and love instead of his credit card.

[galaxymagitech]

A Passing Grade in Trust Issues

(Whumpuary 2025 - Day 5)

Summary:

“Do you trust me?” Bruce asks.

The answer is no, then it's yes, and then, after one betrayal too many, it's no again.

Characters: Tim Drake, Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson

You can read it here or on AO3.

“Do you trust me?” Bruce asks.

The answer, of course, is no. Tim is training as Robin because he doesn’t trust Batman. But Tim is aware that this is a test, and in order to pass, he has to say yes, and in order to become Robin, he has to pass.

So, he steels his voice, holds the communicator close to his lips, and lies to Batman for the first time.

“Yes,” Tim says. “Of course I trust you.”

“Hn,” Bruce grunts. “Then turn off the comms and cowl stream. This conversation needs to be unmonitored.”

Tim’s hand hovers over the button. Turning off the comms would leave Batman without backup—as terrible of a backup as a half-trained Robin is. It’s horribly against procedure, and dangerous to boot. But—

But this is a test, and Tim intends to pass.

“Turning comms and stream off,” he says, and presses the button, watching the batcomputer screen go dark. Tim sits alone in the Batcave and waits.

***

“But don’t you trust them?” Tim wonders as he stares at Bruce’s contingency plans. He gets plans to take the Justice League down in case of mind control—it’s certainly a common enough problem—but Bruce has made predictions of his fellow heroes actions and then planned his own reactions to take them down. This isn’t about a mind-controlled Justice League. This is a series of plans to take down Bruce’s colleagues. His friends.

“No, Tim, I don’t.”

“But it’s Superman. And that’s Wonder Woman. And—”

“Trust is a weakness, Tim. We’re human. A single hit can take us out. All it takes is one moment where we let our guard down, and that’s it.” Bruce shakes his head. “Trust is what gets us killed.”

“Is that what…” Tim trails off, his gaze falling on Jason’s memorial case. “Okay, Bruce.”

***

“Do you trust me?”

Tim stands on the edge of the burning rooftop, looking at the long fall below him. Batman is nowhere in sight, off fighting Firefly a few blocks down.

Tim tries to trust Bruce. Ever since he’s become Robin, Bruce has always had his back. But it’s hard, when he’s so far above the ground and Bruce is asking him to—to jump. Tim doesn’t want to die, okay? He knew it might happen, but—he’s not going to literally jump to his death.

And yet, this is Batman asking. Batman always has a plan.

“Yes,” Tim says, and it’s not really a lie this time. “I trust you.”

He spreads his arms wide and takes a leap of faith.

Falling through the air, Tim closes his eyes and hopes that his thoughts don’t go blank. His heart races, and he knows the ground is getting closer, closer, clo—

Somebody’s arms wrap around Tim’s torso, jerking him into an upswing. Tim’s eyes snap open and he sees Dick smiling down at him. Oh, Tim thinks. So Bruce did have a plan. Really, Tim was dumb for even doubting in the first place. Bruce would never tell anyone to jump to their death. What was he even thinking?

“Sorry about that, Baby Bird,” Dick says as he deposits Tim on a nearby rooftop. Below, firefighters begin to extinguish the flames. “Firefly’s got a hacker on our comm frequencies, and B couldn’t tip him off that I’m in town.”

“Right,” Tim says, feeling like an idiot. Next time, he won’t make the mistake of questioning Batman’s judgement.

***

“But I trust them!” Tim protests. “They’re literally superheroes.”

“This is not a discussion,” Bruce says harshly. Tim winces. “Your secret identity is your life, and you must guard it like such.”

“Then just one of them, at least,” Tim says. “You can even choose which one. Please, Bruce. Can’t someonemy age know? Dick had the Ti—”

“The Titans were a mistake.”

Tim’s eyes widen. “What?”

“Dick is too trusting. He should never have revealed his identity to them. It put him in terrible danger—that Markov girl could have done so much damage.” Bruce shakes his head. “I thought better of you, Robin.”

“I—”

“No,” Bruce says. “I’m disappointed that you even suggested this, let alone continued arguing. You barelyknow those children. It’s ridiculous to trust them.”

Tim wilts under the force of Bruce’s glare. “Okay, B.”

“It’s for your own good,” Bruce says.

Tim’s team members don’t even know his name, and Ives and Zoanne don’t know that he’s Robin. He has two sets of friends, but he’s more alone than ever.

And yet, Bruce is the expert on secret identities. If he says not to tell, Tim won’t tell. He trusts Bruce.

***

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” Tim says, without hesitation, without doubt. He is Robin, and this is Batman.

“Then don’t tell Dick about this. I can’t have him interfering in this case.”

Tim doesn’t understand. Dick—Dick deserves to know. This is about his weird archenemy, after all. But, well… “Alright, B,” Tim says.

Three days later, and an injured Dick and an extremely frustrated Bruce are having their monthly screaming match. Tim sits in the corner of the Batcave and tries to ignore it. He could go upstairs, could put on headphones, could do any number of things to keep from hearing the words they’re hurling at each other. But he has to know what they’re saying. He caused this, after all.

(Dick isn’t angry at Tim. He doesn’t even know Tim was in on the secret. But Tim is guilty nevertheless. Dick is hurt because of him.)

***

“Question everything,” Bruce says.

When does it end? Tim thinks.

Bruce says this was training. Says that it’s a good thing Tim questioned the character of his friends, questioned his own memories.

This isn’t training.

When does training go too far? Tim wonders. How’s that for a question, Bruce?

***

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes.” Tim doesn’t allow himself to think about the question.

“Then don’t follow me.”

Tim follows Bruce anyway and ends up saving his life.

Bruce lectures him for not following orders.

***

“Trust is the enemy,” Bruce says, as Tim sits on the medical cot, shivering. The chills alternate with an unnatural warmth that feels like it’ll burn him up from the inside. “You need to learn to doubt your senses.”

Tim’s teeth chatter. Whatever Ivy and Crane cooked up together really sucks, even with the antidotes. “’m not in the mood for a l’cture, B,” Tim says, tugging on his blanket and trying to cover himself entirely with it.

“You could have avoided that fall,” Bruce says. “You knew you were hallucinating, but you still trusted that the ground was where it seemed—”

“Stop,” Tim says, closing his eyes. Every inch of him feels unbearably cold. “Just stop. I get it.”

“Do you?” Bruce asks. “Because you keep making this mistake, Tim. You could have died.”

“I know,” Tim says. “I know, B. I know.”

(And he does think he knows, this time. Because sitting here, shivering in the well-heated room with Bruce sitting next to him, he feels utterly alone.)

***

“Do you trust me?” Bruce asks.

Bruce had wanted Tim to stop trusting, is the thing. He’d pushed and pushed and pushed, all because he thought Tim was too trusting. 

To Bruce, trust is a weakness, a failing, an enemy. And now that he’s pressed that belief into Tim, well…

It’s wrong, it’s disrespectful, it’s horrible. Bruce was only trying to make Tim stronger. Bruce wants what’s best for him.

But you reap what you sow. So, Tim looks at Batman and can’t help but tell the truth.

“No,” Tim says, “I don’t.”

Instead of being angry, though, Bruce gives him an approving nod. “Good.”

Oh, Tim thinks. I finally passed the test.

[bentnotbroken1fanfiction]

Sneak Peek of Chapter 3 of YGTWG

Kant is climbing inside the open window when he hears Fadel screaming Style’s name. 

His blood runs cold at the sound of it. He’s never heard Fadel sound so devastated. 

“No." He whispers into the empty kitchen. "No, no, no.” He repeats over and over again as he follows the sound of Fadel yelling at someone. He flies down the stairs and sprints through the ruined door, just in time to see Fadel attacking a man he’s never seen before. They are both grappling with Fadel's gun, but he viciously headbutts the other man and it goes skittering across the floor. 

The look on Fadel’s face as he brings back his fist to punch him is unlike any face he’s ever seen him make. Kant had always thought he’d seen Fadel angry, that he’d been on the other side of his frustration and hatred, but he was wrong. He’s never seen Fadel’s face twist in rage like it is right now. And when he lets his eyes leave the fighting men to focus on the spotlight in the middle of the room, he understands why. 

“Style?” he calls out, voice cracking as he takes a step forward. “Style..” His friend’s head is hanging lifelessly off the back of the chair he's tied to, his bruised throat on full display in the light. He lets his gaze drop but he can’t tell if his chest is moving. His chest...There’s blood and bruises covering his stomach and…

Kant runs to him, ignoring the two men grunting and throwing punches on the other side of the room. 

“Style!” He yells as he reaches his side, hands trembling as he checks for a pulse in his neck. He feels the tiny flutter that indicates he’s still alive. “Oh, Fuck. Thank you. Thank you.” He chants, grabbing the bloody knife from the table next to him and cutting the rope binding Style to the chair. If he doesn’t stop this bleeding, he won’t be alive for long. 

He ignores how fucked up his face looks and lays him out on the ground before taking off his button up shirt and pressing it hard on Style’s stomach wounds. “Come on, Style. Come on.” He says to his best friend, leaning down to listen to his mouth. “Please don’t do this to me.”

Style doesn’t speak. He doesn’t move. He’s barely even breathing, and the blood is soaking, soaking, soaking the blue satin, staining it dark, dark, dark. 

“Fuck. Fuck. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Style. Please.” He cries, “Please. Come on, Style. You gotta stay with me, ok?” He’s pressing hard, harder than he probably should, and he can feel his blood coating his hands. He tries not to think about it. “Hey! Wake up, you asshole! You hear me? You have to survive this so you can punch me in the face. You’d like that right? I’ll let you get a few good hits in, ok? And you can have my car. Just take it. I don’t need it. I just…I need you to wake up.”

A hand comes into his field of vision, holding a black checkered shirt. “I’m here.” Bison says, dropping down beside him before pressing his shirt into the mess to help staunch the bleeding.

Kant is relieved to have help, but he finds himself muttering his apologies to Style’s body anyway. He’s begging him not to go. Not to die, because what is Style’s dad going to do? What is Kant going to do if he dies? What is Fadel going to do without him?

 “Stop. He's going to be fine. We’ve got this, ok?” Bison shushes him, covering Kant’s hands with his own. “You see his chest? It’s moving, Kant. He’s breathing.” 

Kant lets himself look closely and Bison is right. He’s still breathing. He can’t hold back the sob that breaks loose in his own chest and feels the tears dripping off his cheeks. He sits still and watches them with blurred vision as they disappear onto Bison’s hand. 

[gingerteafairy]

veins of the forgotten (dean winchester x reader)

⟵previous chapter

tags n warnings: cursing, jealous, smut so please mdni, happy ending bc they need it. word count: 5.5k

The sun filled up the room. The smell of blood, forgotten by the adrenaline, lingered on your body, which was the motivation to get out of bed and leave Dean’s warm embrace. You glanced over your shoulder, turning to admire the sight of Dean Winchester, so peaceful, lost in dreams.

“You know you can tell what he’s dreaming about, right?” A thin voice echoed in your head, which you ignored. Maybe you were still asleep.

You grabbed the clothes you were wearing, and God, they really needed to be washed. Then you had the idea to rummage through Dean’s bag, finding a shirt that wasn’t exactly fresh, but better than the sweaty one you’d traveled in. Your jeans weren’t too bad, so that would be the outfit of the day.

After a quick shower, you brushed your teeth and stepped out of the bathroom already dressed, finding Dean’s sleepy and sweet gaze. “Good morning, champ.” you sansong playfully, tying your hair into a tight ponytail. 

“And put ‘good’ in that…” he smiled, getting up and walking toward you for a warm hug, sniffing your neck tenderly and lifting his head to meet your eyes. “Looks better on you than on me. You should keep that one.”

You smiled goofily as he pulled away, heading to the bathroom, probably for a shower; you both needed it. While Dean was in the bathroom, you decided to call a delivery service for a decent breakfast, getting frustrated as each attempt failed due to the hotel being far from anything civilized. 

“Worried?” he asks, stepping out of the bathroom with a relaxed expression, wiping his hands on a towel as he leans casually against the doorframe. 

“Who doesn't sell breakfast at 2PM?”You throw your phone on the bed with a frustrated sigh, your fingers brushing the sheets absentmindedly.

“I was thinking of taking us for breakfast, what do you think? It's not out fault we spent the whole night awake and our bodies decided to wake up now.”

“You just took my worries away.” You chuckle, sitting up and swinging your legs off the bed, your feet touching the cold floor. You stand up, stretching your arms over your head, feeling the ache in your muscles. He grabs his jacket from the back of the chair and tosses yours into your hands with a smirk, the weight of it making you look up at him in surprise.

He opens the door for you, his hand on the handle, and gestures for you to walk ahead. You give him a quick smile and head out, but his eyes linger on your figure as you pass. The hallway lights cast soft shadows, and you feel a flicker of warmth on your skin when he walks up behind you. At the parking lot, the receptionist gives you both a wide smile, her eyes sparkling as she waves. 

But before you get in the car, he stops, stepping out and exchanging a few words with her. His words seem to be teasing, and her laugh is loud and genuine, causing something sharp to twist inside you. The sour taste of jealousy creeps up your throat. But what could you do? He wasn’t even your boyfriend.

You cross your arms tightly, leaning against the car, your eyes narrowing just slightly as you watch him. The thought makes your chest tighten, but you push it away, trying to focus on something else. You shake your head, telling yourself it’s ridiculous to feel that way.

“Alright, ready to go.” He slides into the car, slamming the door shut with a soft thud, and the engine purrs to life. As he presses the button to roll up the windows, the soft sound of The Only Exception by Paramore fills the air. You glance at him, a small smile tugging at the corners of your mouth as you recognize the song.

“Sam’s songs.” You point out with a playful grin, nudging his shoulder, and he laughs, raising his hand like he’s about to change it. But before he can, you slap his hand away gently, a teasing glint in your eyes. “I wanna hear it, I like this one.”

He chuckles, glancing at you, his eyes softening a bit, then he shrugs dramatically, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel as he accelerates. “Good thing, I wouldn’t know what to do if I admitted it before you did. You lean back in your seat, relaxing as the familiar melody fills the space between you, the tension slowly fading away.

The Impala smoothly cruised toward a small diner in town, the engine’s hum fading as Dean parked near the entrance. You both slid out of the car, making your way inside where the air smelled of fresh coffee and sizzling food. 

You sat at a table near the window, the sun’s gentle warmth filtering through the glass, casting soft rays across your skin. You sighed, feeling the warmth seep into your bones. Dean ordered pancakes with black coffee, and you couldn’t help but smile at your usual choice. When you told him, his eyes lit up with a grin. He mentally noted it down, thinking he might order it for you next time—or even take a risk and cook it himself one day.

“You know,” you started, taking a bite of your meal and savoring the taste that made your heart feel warm, “I think I’m not going back to Buckley’s.”

“I’m not gonna let you,” he teased, spearing a piece of pie with his fork. You chuckled at the way he ate, his mouth full but still managing to shoot you a grin. He had such a carefree way of doing everything that made even simple moments feel lighter.

“Then I was thinking…” you trailed off, and his eyebrows shot up in curiosity. “I should go shopping… you know, get some new clothes. This one is practically glued to my body by now.”

He smiled with his mouth full, swallowing before responding, “Good idea, but where are you gonna find the cash? I wish I could pay for it, but this life isn’t exactly great for making money.”

You leaned back a little in your chair, a smirk on your lips. “I still have his card.” You said it casually, but he nearly choked on his coffee, laughing uncontrollably.

“You’re really from another world,” he grinned, pointing his fork at you in mock warning. “You should be arrested, young lady.”

“I’m not. I’m just taking advantage of the perks of having a terrible dad,” you said with a mischievous smile, but the moment it left your lips, it faded. The smile didn’t quite reach your eyes anymore. You poked the fork into your food, the clink of the metal against the plate echoing in the silence between you two.

The playful atmosphere in the diner felt heavier now. As you pushed your food around absentmindedly, you caught a glimpse of Dean looking at you, his expression softening. The playful glint in his eyes was replaced with a touch of concern, but he didn’t press further. It felt like there was something unspoken between you, something that had shifted when you mentioned your father.

“Waitress!” He called out, and a young woman approached with a bright smile, ready to take his order.

“How can I help you, sir?” she asked, and Dean shot you a grin that bordered on madness. You narrowed your eyes, already sensing this wouldn’t be a normal request.

“Do you know where there’s a fancy, outrageously expensive store for this young lady to buy some clothes?” he asked, and you rolled your eyes, adjusting your posture as the waitress beamed at you. “She’s a bit picky, you know? So, everything has to be super expensive. Her dad’s a big shot, and I’m dating his daughter.”

You could feel the heat rise to your cheeks as the waitress gave you a wide, almost approving smile. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, half-annoyed by his playful teasing.

“I think we have just the place.” She added, then gave you directions to the stores where you could find pieces that no one in town would dare spend money on. You both paid for the coffee before heading out to the high-end shop.

Walking into the store felt like entering a different world. The spiral staircase and crystal chandelier made it look like something out of a luxury magazine. A refined lady greeted you and guided you to the casual wear section, where Dean insisted on picking out outfits for you to try on. He slipped a few of his own preferences into the mix, grinning at you like a kid in a candy store.

After trying on what seemed like a pair of jeans covered in tiny skulls and a basic black top, you stepped out of the fitting room, stifling an amused laugh.

“Come on, you look amazing,” he said, leaning back on the couch in front of the changing rooms, casually munching on a pack of peanuts. As usual, he was making a mess, bits of the snack scattered around him.

“I look like a ridiculous emo going to an MCR concert.” You grinned, twirling in front of the mirror, adjusting the pants uncomfortably.

He raised an eyebrow, still munching away, clearly enjoying your reaction. “Emo are not that hot, they don't make me wanna take off their clothes,so… You nailed it.” He flashed that mischievous grin that made it hard to argue with him.

“I'll take them all.” You stated to the old lady, turning your eyes to a happy Dean grinning. “And I'll take this one too… my boyfriend loved this one.” 

“Oh, lovely.” She chimed, taking your choices as you got inside the changing room again to get your normal clothes. “Hey, dear.” She called you again.

“Yeah?” You uttered, coming out again. 

“You can use this one before paying, I just need to remove the tag and assure the cashier youre gonna pay for it.” she spoke lightly before coming closer to whisper. “And you gotta make your boyfriend happy, huh? He seems like he's planning a sorta surprise for you.”

You felt your cheeks burn. Clothing. Boyfriend. Surprise. The gears turning in your head. It was a date. Maybe, just maybe, you had the thought that moment with the hotel attendance wasn't a flirt. And that made you go straight to the cashier to pay for all your choices, grinning with all the packages he insisted on carrying. 

“There's one more store.” He shared, after closing the trunk carefully for not messing up your things. 

“I'm sure I broke my dad right now.” You stated, smiling for the butterfly necklace he chose on the previous store that was expensive enough to bang the limit. 

“This one I'll make sure to pay for.” He demanded, getting in the car again to start the engine. 

The sight of a white and pink wall appeared and your smile was replaced by a disbelief reaction contrasting to Dean's impossibly enormous grin. “Here we are.” 

“You're disgusting.” You gushed, a smile growing even more when he stepped out of the car to open the passenger door for you. “Being a gentleman to see my fashion show? Dirty trick, Dean.”

“Can't help it.” He declared, stepping closer. “And I'm eager to see it.” 

He took your hand and led you out to the delicate store. Which had nothing delicate with those lewd products where Dean found himself in paradise. He asked for information to the attendants like he was at school and he was a dedicated student. 

He emphasized a lot of things with you and you laughed at all his amused reactions to toys, special liquids and overall sex shop things. The learning lesson stopped as soon as he saw the pretty, just perfect lace bra with a cute pink bow and matching panties. 

“No.” you guffawed, frowning as he pouted his pretty pink lips at you. “Dean!” 

The excitement in his eyes was almost childlike. You hesitated, fingers fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. “Please… I just... I want to see you in it. For me? Just once."

Your cheeks flushed a deep crimson as you shook your head, glancing away. "Nooo. What if it looks... weird? I’m not really good at this kind of thing."

He stepped closer, holding out the lingerie like something precious. "You could never look weird. Trust me, okay? You’ll look amazing. You always do.”

You glanced up at him through your lashes, seeing the hopeful gleam in his eyes. "But—"

"No buts," he interrupted, his lips quirking into a grin. "If you absolutely hate it, I promise we’ll never talk about it again. Deal?"

After a long pause, you sighed, taking the fabric from his hands. "Fine, but only because you accompanied me today and I'll wear it at the hotel, okay?”

You got back to the motel early in the evening, and, once again, Dean exchanged looks with the girl at the front desk. That damn smirk of his, paired with the way he tilted his head, was enough to make your blood boil even more than it had that morning. You’d had a great day together — too good, really. It had to be fake.  

“What’s wrong?” he asked, grabbing your hand, only to look surprised when you pulled it back. “Hey, you okay?”  

“I’m fine… totally fine…” you muttered, crossing your arms. But you know what? You were way too irritated to let it slide. “Actually, why don’t you go finish your little chat with the receptionist, huh? Bet she’d love that.”  

Dean stopped mid-step, blinking at you like you’d just grown a second head. Then, to your utter frustration, he started to laugh — a low, gravelly chuckle that felt like it was mocking you.  

“What’s so funny?” you snapped, shifting your weight uncomfortably as he stood there, clearly enjoying himself.  

“Well…” He ran a hand over the back of his neck, trying to suppress his grin. “I think the receptionist…” He laughed again, shaking his head as he opened the door to your room. “I think the receptionist’s gonna be too busy bringin’ up the champagne for us.”  

“What champagne…” The words caught in your throat as you stepped inside and took in the scene. Rose petals were scattered across the floor, and a sleek box sat neatly on the bed.  

“Dean…” you breathed, covering your mouth with your hands. “Oh my God, Dean, I’m such an idiot… I thought…”  

“You thought I was hittin’ on the receptionist?” he asked, one eyebrow raised, a smirk tugging at his lips.  

Your hands flew to your face, mortified. “You’re such a jerk,” you laughed, playfully hitting his chest.  

“Ow!” he yelped, clutching his chest dramatically. “That hurt! Do you know how hard it was to keep you busy all afternoon? But man, it was worth it.”  

You stepped further into the room, your eyes darting around as you took everything in. It wasn’t extravagant, but it didn’t need to be. It was perfect. Simple, but full of meaning. Dean closed the door behind him and slid an arm around your waist, pulling you closer.  

“Why all this?” you asked, looking up at him. He was so close, so handsome, and somehow, so… yours.  

“Dunno,” he said, flashing that boyish grin of his. “Guess I just wanted to impress a certain witch I know.”  

Though his tone was playful, there was something in his eyes that carried so much more. He hesitated, then continued:  

“I asked Janette to wrap a little somethin’ for us. Honestly, no idea what’s in it.”  

“Janette, huh? Gettin’ real cozy with her, are ya?” you teased, raising an eyebrow.  

“Janette Williams. Blonde. Twenty-one. Cute, huh? Sweet girl.” He winked, but before you could get too annoyed, he added, “But she’s got nothin’ on you.”  

He said it softly, his gaze dropping for a second. The weight of his words hung in the air, and suddenly, it was like the world had stopped spinning.  

You felt your chest tighten, a rush of air escaping as you tried to breathe evenly. Instinctively, you stepped closer, your heart hammering in your chest.  Dean swallowed hard, his throat dry. He licked his lips, visibly nervous, like he was searching for the right words.  

“Look, I…” He cleared his throat, his voice failing him for a second.  

“Yes?” you prompted gently, your heart practically in your throat. He stared at you, his hazel eyes full of emotion, and it felt like he was on the verge of saying something that would change everything.  

“I love…” he began, but before he could finish, the shrill ring of the motel phone shattered the moment.  

“I love…” He sighed, glaring at the phone. “I love phones. They’re great.”  

“Yeah, real important,” you quipped nervously, scratching your head as you let out a soft laugh.  

Dean muttered something under his breath as he grabbed the phone. After a brief, annoyed conversation, he hung up, shaking his head.  

“What was that about?” you asked, trying to read his expression.  

“She said the champagne’s in the box,” he explained, gesturing toward the bed. “Go on. Open it.”  

You couldn’t help but smile as you practically skipped over to the bed, opening the box to reveal a bottle of champagne, two glasses, and an assortment of sweets.  

“Wow…” you whispered, glancing back at him. “Dean, this is amazing.”  

He smiled at you, a mix of pride and relief, but then his expression shifted to something mischievous.  

“Now that I made you real happy…” he started, moving toward the bag he’d brought in earlier. From it, he pulled out a neatly wrapped box. The lingerie. “How about you try this on for me?”  

“I promised, didn’t I?” you said, a bit shy, twirling a strand of hair around your finger. “All right, gimme that.”  

A few minutes later, you emerged from the bedroom, your arms crossed self-consciously as you stood in the doorway. The lingerie hugged you in all the right places. “You look…” Dean froze, his mouth dropping open. "You look... incredible."

You quickly turned your head, unable to meet his gaze. "Stop saying dumb stuff like that! I look ridiculous."

"Ridiculously amazing!" He spun around, grabbing his phone. "Hold on, let me call NASA. I need to report that a star landed in my living room."

"Shut up!" You snapped in a high-pitched voice as you grabbed a pillow and threw it at him.

He caught it easily, grinning from ear to ear. "I’m serious, darling. You look beautiful. But you don’t have to take my word for it. Just look in the mirror."

You hesitated, glancing toward the mirror. Your reflection stared back, a shy smile tugging at your lips despite herself. Without hesitation, he wrapped his arms around you from behind, pulling you gently into his chest. His warmth enveloped your waist steady and solid, just as his pecking on your neck, reassuring. Your hands slowly moved to rest over his, fingers curling around his own.

"You’re such an idiot," you whispered, voice cracking in laughter when he sniffed your neck, shaking his head on the crook.

"I know," he replied, the faintest smile in his tone. "But I’m your idiot."

A shaky laugh escaped from your lips, leaning back into him. You couldn't help but feel uneasy. Yours. This word tossed and turned into you. So It did to him. 

“Now… Can you turn and make a little spin while I take at least 37 pictures?” He teased and you scoffed in disbelief, turning to face him. 

“Absolutely not.” 

Then he knelt on the floor, clutching your hand in mock desperation. "My love, my muse, my beacon of light in this dark world. Won’t you grant me this one birthday wish?”

“It's not even your birthday, Dean.” You laughed, pushing him back on his feet as you feign a slap on her shoulder. 

“How’d you know? I didn't tell you.” he chimed, his eyes roaming all over you, focusing on the curves and the pieces where the lingerie made little for the imagination. 

“Guessing.” You shrugged, pressing your lips in a thin line. “Can I get changed now or you want more fanservice?” He rolled his eyes, biting his lips. “Stop doing it.”

“Doing what?” He scoffed, looking you up and down. He had a way of making anyone feel hot just by one sight of him. 

“This!” You pointed again, laughing. You weren't sure if you could handle more days with this teasing role coaster. Giving up, you lay on bed and he ran to lay by your side, casting glances at you as you grabbed the remote to turn the TV as a distraction. 

The quiet felt heavy, almost tangible. The TV was casting flickering shadows across your faces, but neither was paying attention to the screen anymore.  

You stole a glance at Dean, your heart hammering against your ribs. His profile, sharp and serious in the dim light, seemed unfairly attractive. You bit your lip, trying to focus on something—anything—other than how close he was. Praying for him not see the forming slick on the fabric. 

Dean, on the other hand, was painfully aware of your presence, just as the bulge on his pants. The warmth radiating from your barely covered chest made his own feel tight. He ran a hand through his hair, pretending to be interested in the TV, but his thoughts were nowhere near the movie playing out.  

The silence stretched, awkward and electric.  

"So..." Dean started, his voice breaking the stillness but faltering halfway through. He wasn’t even sure what he’d planned to say.  

You turned to him, startled. For a moment, neither of you moved, caught in a strange limbo where words seemed unnecessary but unbearably important. I love you.  

the edge of the couch for dear life. "Uh..." You mumbled.

"Yeah," he replied, though it wasn’t a response to anything. His throat felt dry, palms sweating. He couldn't be like this. No. 

Then, he heard his inner voice and kissed you. Thank God Dean heard his instincts because the way you kissed was near to a religious experience. 

In a split second, he had you laying on your back with him on top of you, one of his legs between yours as his body laid against yours. As he looked down at you, he felt his stomach twist with both nerves and anticipation.

His hands moved to your sides, digging his fingers so hard that you were sure it was reddened at this point. He couldn't stop himself from touching. As you scratched his chest, he felt like his body was on fire, in the best way possible. You grab the hem of his shirt, pulling back from you but only so you could take it off.

"It's not fair, you're too hot." you commented slightly flustered, amused by his toned almost unrealistic beautiful body under you. 

"You're not so bad yourself, sweetie." He murmured back, chuckling quietly, his hands resting on thighs, drawing invisible circles on them.

"Not bad? Oh you're gonna pay for saying that." You shake your head, catching his lips again.

"Oh really? What're you gonna do about it?" He teased, biting your bottom lip.

"Nothing, because i have no fucking idea of what I'm doing." You burst into laughter, resting your head on the pillow. His hands snaked back and forth from your waist to hip. You swallowed, meeting his gaze. “Guide me?”

"Are you sure?" He whispered, his green eyes flicking from yours down to your lips before moving back up.

You nodded and he kissed you again, a little noise leaving the back of his throat when your lips met, his hands moving behind you, squeezing your hips. 

When he saw the bra being discarded to the floor, he was speechless.  His pupils were blown a little as he watched you, biting his lower lip as his fingers followed the curve of your breasts, cupping them delicately, feeling the skin, memorizing the sensation. 

His head was spinning, and he had to slow his breathing, his hands resting beside your head for support as he stared down with a flushed face. “You’re beautiful.”

His lips trailed down from your neck to your collarbone, slowly down and following the curves of your body, until he was kissing along your belly. He could feel your breathing get a little more shaky, and he looked up at you while he kissed along your stomach, enjoying the taste of your skin.

When his fingers downed the tiny lacey fabric off you, he paused, staring your sticky fluid forming a strand glued to the fabric. A proof of how truly aroused you were. 

“Please…don't look at it.” You pleaded, attempting to close your thighs together, prevented by Dean's spreading apart again. “It's embarrassing, Dean…”

“It's beautiful.” He sighed, glueing his eyes on your core again, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine, increased by his fingertip tracing a small pattern all along your intimacy, snaking to your entrance to collect more fluid just to come back to your pearl, teasing it.

“Dean… you…” your patience was running thin as his unconscious teasing expanded, slowly torturing your aching bud by admiring it. 

“Sorry, it's just…” he paused, licking his moistened finger. “I've never had time or concentration to enjoy the moment.” 

You smiled, plopping your elbows to see Dean genuinely smiling at you, his eyes full with a true happiness he hasn't felt in many years. Not because of sex, no. It was love. 

“D’you mind if I…” he chuckled, flustered. “You know…lick?”

You laughed, throwing your head back, back to his eyes again. “you really asking me this?”

“Yeah, you know, consent.” he shrugged, smiling. You nodded, suddenly being aware of how his body seemed hot judging by his blushed shoulders and desireful eyes. 

It was the sign Dean needed for him to get what he craved and didn't even be aware of that. He swallowed and slowly placed his face on your pussy, pressing a brief kiss on the center. He groaned, flicking a soft flat tongue on your core, your back arching with the new sensation. 

“Hmmmm…you taste so fucking good.” He grunts, boosting your temperature. You knew about arousal and masturbation, you weren't dumb, but feeling it, feeling Dean, was a completely different thing. 

His tongue licked all your extensions, kitten licking your bud and sucking on the right moments when you wanted and didn't even need to say. He knew in his veins what you wanted. He lifted his pointer, as a silent warning he was about to prepare you, carefully pressing against your entrance.

“Dean, oh my…. Jesus…” The moment his finger popped inside, you whimpered, curling your toes as he pumped in and out, preparing you. 

Catching your reaction, Dean inserted another finger, burying it deep on you in a fast pace, matching with his smart tongue, where he ate you out like his last meal and all you could think was grinding on his face, longing for more contact. 

The first shockwaves of your climax grew, he could feel you contract inside and convulse out, grasping your fingers on his hair to secure you, holding on him while you release the peak of pleasure on him, trembling by Dean prolonging your orgasm working you up. His true desire was overstimulation, seeing you possessed and crazy on his tongue all over the night, but it was your first time. He had to make a good guy pose for once. For you. 

His tongue licked you for a last time before he raised, kneeling to unbelt, his eyes never leaving you while he peeled off the jeans of his body, leaving somewhere forgotten on the floor. You opened your eyes for the first time when you cooled down, eyes meeting his cock tantalized behind those boxers. 

You plopped on your elbows again to get up. “No, no, no…” he shushed, laying on you again by gently pushing your shoulders. “This night is about you. You can touch me another day, okay?”

“Will it have another day?” You whispered, your eyes igniting more than just carnal, it was hope, longer, everything, everything feeling existing in the world that got Dean lost in that emotional maze of yours. 

“Forever, if you wanted to.” He replied, pursuing your lips on the most passionate kiss you ever shared with him. He pushed back slightly to push his underwear down, kicking off to the floor. “Oh,almost forgot.” He remembered, crawling on the bed to reach out his jeans and take a condom out of his wallet. 

Dean positionated one of his forearms next to your hair, securing him while he wrapped his cock on his hand. His eyes searched yours, blissed out, longing. You conceded, intoxicated by the excitement. Dean licked his lips, dressing his length. Your eyes shutted when he gently pushed in, splitting you open, scratching your nails on his back. 

“You alright?” He panted, a bloom across his cheeks decorated his erotic face, waiting for you getting used to his size. 

“Yeah… it's…” you muttered, dizzy. “It hurts, but… it's not painful as everyone said. It 's good.”

“Good?” He echoed, mouth opened with your disheveled face, memorizing you in his mind. 

“Good.” you confirm, humming. “Is it…all? Like…you…”

“No.” He chuckled, getting closer, his weight pressing deliciously on your core as he took your hands, interlacing your fingers on him. “I need to push a little more, can you take it?”

“Yeah.” You concur, gasping, feeling his slide his length once more. “move, I… I can take it.”

He nodded, rolling out, grunting with you. He bounced back, filling. You moaned when he popped out once more, pain replaced by pleasure faster than you thought. “hmmm-more…” you whine, panting.

“what?” he croaks silky, sliding back easily. 

“More…i want more…” you beg, ordering your eyes to open to emphasize. He felt in heaven, thrusting confidently. “this- Dean…”

You kept moaning, crying out his name like a prayer with each stroke he pumped. Your arms reached his neck, pushing him for a kiss while he rocked his hips frantically, digging his fingers on your waist. Closer.

Your cunt clench and unclenching sequentially with his cock kissing your cervix and all the right spots inside you. 

“Dean… I love you…” the truth is revealed by moaning, falling over for your approaching peak again. 

“Fuck.” He grunts, shutting his eyes as a smile creeps on his face, pulsing inside you. “I love you, i love you. I love you so much.” 

“I love you.” you sob, gasping, rolling your hips together, reaching for your climax and somehow you knew he was close as you. “Dean…m”

“Me too, fuck, me too, darling.” His lips devoured you once again, feverish. Your moans became desperate, coming undone simultaneously to Dean spasming with shutted eyes as he spilled his cum. 

He pumped a few more times, stopping only when he softened. You open your eyes, watching him open his slowly. His hands reached your face, wiping the excess sweat off your face with his hands, planting several kisses on you. Dozens, thousands kisses on your skin. 

His body flipped around you and yours felt like he never really left, his scent, moist, everything, you felt him, even when he got up to throw the condom on the bathroom’s trash can. 

“So… how d’you feel?” He asked, laying on your side again, pushing your boneless-like body for a cuddle.

“I don't know… deflorated?” You joke, giggling, admiring his eyes as you get closer with your chests almost touching. 

“Ha ha ha, so funny.” He mocked, giving up for a low chuckle with your playful free behavior, tugging a strand of hair behind your ear. “But, for real… you okay?”

“It couldn't be more perfect.” You confess, feeling goosebumps with his innocent touch, a contract with the last minutes. “But seriously, it was perfect. Thank you.” 

He lit up, his hand moving to the back of your head to kiss your lips again, your hand resting on his chest. He broke the kiss, gazing at you for a moment before opening his mouth. “Is it serious?”

“What?” You dash, eyeing him. You knew damn well what he was talking about, you couldn't help but hoping to hear him saying again. 

“About…” he paused as the vulnerable electricity came back like a wave. “About love.”

You swallow, biting your lip. Being naked wasn't even close to how exposed you felt. “Yeah…sorry. I didn't… I guess I messed up things, right?”

“I love you.” He cut off tenderly, his grin widening with your smile. “Well, loving a witch wasn't exactly on my plans but… you know, things happen.” 

“I love you.” You repeated, tasting how every word felt leaving your lips. It was sweet. Sweeter than everything you tasted before, and all you could do was say it again, as repeating was a state for reality. You loved him.

[tenwhiteandalusians]

so no one was going to tell me if i got literally one episode further tenax drops that he’s the one who saved scorpus from his mom’s pimp AND that he’s intimately familiar with scorpus’ dick when he was younger. guys. guys.

[boygirlctommy]

i couldnt upload the audio like a normal person so heres this. gonna try to animate to it tomorrow :P

[kathrynmjaneway]

.

[thaeon]

obviously late to the party on this like 9 years later and not saying anything that hasn't already been said but its sooo interesting going back and watching blind playthroughs of undertale bc its so funny how many of the people drawn to the game immediately fall into the very first pitfall set by it by being so unimaginative that they cannot imagine a game system existing that does not require grinding up levels even as they say to themselves they don't want to kill the characters AND the npcs reference the game mechanics TO them

[ssamja-trash]

This post is just me ranting in the tags scolding my kpop boy man lol. (But you should still watch this performance if you haven't yet because they SLAYED and they deserve support and I want an album from these three please don't stop singing you're so talented and charismatic 😭😭😭)

[gender-euphowrya]

people will be upset at fucking anything like never underestimate the human brain's ability to be a little hater bitch

[krysmcscience]

Did somebody say Bill shouldn't be allowed to swear? I think somebody said Bill shouldn't be allowed to swear. Thanks to that, have these retooled The Good Place jokes:

The "powers that be" can refer to either the Theraprism staff, the Axolotl, or just. Ya know. Disney in general. Or all three! Whichever you think is funniest. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

The "party" Bill's referring to is Weirdmageddon, of course. He was quite the ashhole to everyone back then.

Ford has probably gotten pretty good at the 'tune out your psychopathic ex with dank memes' challenge.

It must be very cathartic to be able to make Bill shut up whenever you want with just the press of a button. I'm sure Ford doesn't abuse this ability at all.

Oh, sure, 'Not now,' he says, before he immediately backs out of the newly-made hole in the Theraprism wall. 🙄

Don't worry, Bill doesn't get far.

also yeah i know this one doesn't have an attempted swear - i just wanted to use the joke because of the massive stink-eye involved in it because it makes me laugh

⬇️ More goofs beneath the brief ramble if you wanna skip it lmao⬇️

Why is Ford even there, you might ask? Well, he either decided he preferred to watch Bill suffer in person over being distantly and repeatedly harassed with the same evil desperation book for the rest of his life, or he got roped into some kind of contrived community service for 1.) all his many counts of interdimensional thievery, and 2.) his ignoring all the very clear warnings to NOT summon Bill in the first place (which I like to imagine is also illegal). Theraprism staff were just like, 'Wait, this guy matters to Bill? Ooh, we can USE that! It might be the only thing that can help him want to get better!' It is not considered that throwing Ford at Bill so soon after Weirdmageddon could instead make them both WORSE - in new and altogether special ways! :D

Anyway, I'm calling it the Community Service AU, and I am most likely not going to do anything else with it beyond appropriating these silly Good Place jokes. So, feel free to adopt the concept if y'all wanna??? Just make sure that Bill is still not allowed to swear, no matter what, full stop. It's gotta be a real linguistic corkblork of a situation for him, is all I'm sayin'.

Finally, have these bonus Good Place jokes, but with Handyman!Bill this time:

'Opposite tortures' doesn't sound so bad...at least until it's an all-powerful chaos entity known for torture saying it.

you may think i forgot mabel's cute pink cheeks but the truth is that i did in fact forget but then immediately stopped caring which makes it okay, SHHHHHHH

And, finally:

lmao this is shit

True facts, if you cram Season 1 Eleanor Shellstrop and Michael into a singular triangle shape, they turn into Bill Cipher. This is science, look it up. Or don't, and just trust the source that is me, bro.

Anyway, I should be in bed, y'all have fun with these, I guess. Tune in after like a week or so and maybe I'll have an addendum to my comic about how Bill was drawn naked for karaoke night. Because him actually being naked was not the only thing I considered as a plausible explanation. XD

Also if you see any inconsistencies or errors in any of these comics, No You Do Not :D

Also also, reblogs are rad as hell and I appreciate every single one, just don't repost, please and thanks. Every time a repost is made, an artist somewhere cries. :,)

[fuckyeahgoodomens]

From the Neil Gaiman: Dream Dangerously :) (you can watch it here in US or with US vpn :) <;3) (or just this bit on youtube here :))

Terry Pratchett: One day he rang me up and said, "I've started a book and, I think it's good, but I haven't the faintest idea where it goes." So, I said, "All right, well, send me the pages." And I read it and wrote him back and said, "I don't know where it goes either, but I do know what happens next."

Neil Gaiman: I was pretty much nocturnal then, so I would write my chunk of Good Omens before I went to bed, and I'd go to sleep about five o'clock in the morning and I'd get up about one o'clock in the afternoon and my answering machine would be flashing on, and I'd press the button and a voice would say, "Get up, get up you lazy bastard, I've just written a good bit."

Terry Pratchett: We did it as a kind of holiday, because if it crashed and burned, nobody would notice.

[jaxon-exe]

Ghost in the Watch Tower

(With any of my ideas, feel free to use this as u want)

So for whatever reason u want, Danny needs a new haunt. Now he can’t just pick anywhere. It has to be somewhere that fits him.

So after a bit of haunt hunting he finds the perfect place!! The fact it’s the HQ of a bunch of heroes satisfies his protection obsession nicely and as if it couldn’t get better ITS IN SPACE!!! It’s perfect!!! I mean yeah there r already people living and working there but Danny can turn invisible so it’s fine. He doesn’t need much honesty.

So for a few months Danny just chills in the watch tower without anyone knowing and all is great. Than one day Constantine is dragged into a meeting at the watch tower and immediately pick up on the fact that a Realms ghost has moved in and no one in the tower had seemed to notice.

Deciding it would be better to handle alone than risk a bunch of novices poking around one of the most dangerous types of undead there is, he sets up a banishment spell in a spare room. It should be fine anyway. The spell doesn’t affect humans so he can just deal with it and no one has to know.

Only it doesn’t work.

Ok then, well good thing he knows another ritual that should work! He gets it all set up, goes the incantation and… yeah that didn’t work either… it’s at this point he hears a near silence noise echo out. It takes a minute but he eventually figures out what it is.

…laughing…

This fucker is laughing at him…

Well any plan John had of just giving up is thrown out the window. This shit is personal now.

Danny on the other hand is having the time of his life! Not only did he score the perfect haunt, he now has free entertainment in the form of John ‘soul whore’ Constantine trying to banish him using spells and rituals that won’t do anything to a half human like him!! Best haunt EVER

Cut to a week later and Flash is on watch duty when the Zeta goes off and out walks John which leads to-

Flash: hey, wasn’t expecting.. is that a shotgun??

John: ghost in the watch tower

Flash: w-what??

John: Ghost. In the. Watch. Tower. *walks off*

Flash:…………………….*presses button* yeah hey bats urrr. I think Constantine’s lost it