#i think they all turned out pretty damn good

[huhwhuhs]

Urghhhhhhhgruuuuu.....flessssshhhhhh.....

—

Today sucked, genuinely sucked, it wasn't a bad day all around, but it was just because my favorite set of ear buds decided to crap out on me last second so I had to go through the day in complete silence.

Which, in my personal opinion, is genuinely miserable.

The worst part was that they were actually pretty new, only two years old, and my last set gave me a good five. But one of the speakers just decided to blow out entirely and I'm not only going to listen to music in one ear for the rest of the time I have them.

But it doesn't matter now, shit happens and you just have to move on in life. I'm sure there's some inspiring quote out there about hurdles for this exact reason. So, I do as everyone does and go buy new earbuds with my already limited budget.

My job isn't the best, dead end at a packaging facility with a boss who thinks since I can actually do my work it's okay to pile more on me for free. Luckily, I have a bit of leftover spending money, so while I won't have anymore outings these next two months, I at least won't be entirely miserable during them.

Things are expensive now though, it's price tag after price tag, google search after google search, checking reviews and wondering how some of these got past the first testing trial with so many glitches.

But, eventually, right near the back of the rack, tucked awkwardly away because they probably don't bring in as much money as the others, is a plastic container with a little square black case inside.

It's shockingly cheap, there's not many reviews on them but none seem too bad, and they'll at least last me until I can save for some actual good ones, and maybe still have enough to catch dinner with my friends sometime.

I go to the counter, the cashier looks at me funny but I think it's because she never really sees anyone buying these, that or I'm more disheveled than I first thought. Then I pay and walk out.

Back home after a long drive, the radio louder than normal to make up for what I was lacking during the time I was standing awkwardly silent in that store. Unlock the door, step inside, kick my shoes off and watch them thunk against the shoe rack I never bother to actually use properly, and sit down to set everything up.

The case is pleasantly warm, I think they were pre-charged since the little light on the front for the battery shines yellow instead of red, most likely drained while it was sitting out on the rack. I grab the little manual, press down on the two little black earbuds while they're in the case to turn on pairing mode, and finally get them connected.

The manual, of course, says things about how you should take them out regularly, and how constant loud playing can "irritate" the speakers. A strange word for it but it's not something to pay much mind to.

Of course, I don't listen, because I love destroying my hearing one song at a time. They mold to my ears surprisingly comfortably, they're never cold out of the case, and they must run on solar power or something because every time I put them back in they're already charged. It almost feels uncomfortable to take them out now, like I'm taking some part of my ear with it.

Yeah, it's... almost ironic looking back on it now. Staring into the mirror as I take out my earbuds to shower and watch blood trickle out of my ear canal, freaking out and then seeing how pale and disgusting the inside of my ear has become, how its soft and sensitive and spongey with little porous holes in the flesh, everything is muffled and I can't tell if the swelling is blocking it, the blood, or if my ears are just infected and dead already.

I can only attribute it to one thing, and to i take those damned earbuds and throw them on the tile, watching the backs of them break off and start bleeding how it oozes onto the tile and stains it red how I can see bloody flesh underneath how I can see it pulse like it breathes and the little blood-stained hairs on the eartips like soft bristles that act like mosquitos how it mo v e s

[fortunxa]

THESIS: DEVOTION . . . (nsfw)

I Think, Therefore I Beg

# cw. sub-bottom!reader, dom!Jinx, oral (Jinx!receiving), thigh riding/humping (r!receiving), loser!reader, degradation, taunting/teasing, dumbification, praising, worshipping, r!passes out, fwb(?), smut with plot, college au, “aftercare”/soft Jinx moments. mdni .ᐟ.ᐟ

# wc. 2.4k + short bonus

Jinx has a type. not the loud ones, not the cool ones. no—she has a soft spot for the shy, brainy girls. the ones who can’t quite meet her eyes when she smirks at them, who flinch when her knee brushes theirs under the table, then apologize like it wasn’t the best part of their day. those are her favorites.

they’re easy to spot—blushing behind thick glasses, nervously fiddling with pens or sleeves, trying so hard not to look when she stretches just a little too far or speaks just a little too slowly, hearts already halfway in her hands before she even smiles.

she likes the way they react to her. one offhand comment laced with innuendo, and they short-circuit—eyes wide, throat tight, cheeks burning. it’s addictive. she likes watching them come undone and likes the way they try so hard to keep it together when she leans across the table, fingers brushing theirs. her voice is low and syrupy sweet as she asks them to “just explain that one little part again.”

she doesn’t need the help, of course. she’s smarter than most people on campus, probably smarter than some of the teachers, but that’s not the point. the point is watching those sweet girls fumble over their words, cheeks flushed, thighs pressed tight under the desk while she twirls a strand of their hair and hums like she’s thinking of something much more interesting than equations.

it fascinates her, watching how far they go to keep her attention, how easily they fold when she says please in that low, honeyed tone that turns yes into a reflex. she never has to lift a finger—unless it’s to trace lazy little circles on a thigh while they work, just to see how long they can keep their hands steady. sometimes, she murmurs praises into their neck, low and slow, and watches them squirm like she’s lighting them up from the inside out.

and the best part? those girls are givers, desperate to please. Jinx will bat her lashes, pout a little, and suddenly her assignments are done, her projects are perfect, and her inbox is full of carefully written notes with highlighted sections and color-coded tabs. all because they want to impress her. all because they want her to stay. chasing her approval like it’s the only grade that matters.

she likes what they can do for her—in every sense. those shy little things, trying so hard to be good, will do anything to keep her attention. and Jinx? she makes damn sure they never know if she actually means the things she says, or if she’s just playing with her food.

because when she crooks a finger or tilts her head with that wicked little smile, her nerdy girl of the month will come running—books in hand, heart pounding, already apologizing for being two minutes late. it’s adorable, really. the way she scrambles to impress, how she lights up when she so much as acknowledges her.

Jinx loves making smart girls stupid, and this time? you’re her victim.

it’s routine at this point—one that you follow like a well-oiled machine. she’d stretch out across her bed, headphones in, humming to some glitchy beat while you fumble with her laptop, trying to perfect her assignment or fix her code. she’d barely glance at the screen, just stroke your hair and murmur lazy praise when you got her formatting right.

and that praise? it’s currency. one “good girl”, and you’re glowing. one moan, soft and breathy, and you’re working harder, always hoping to be rewarded.

and she does reward you—when she feels like it. sometimes, she lets you put your mouth on her while she scrolls on her phone, legs thrown over your shoulders, only glancing down when you make a particularly pretty noise. other times, she makes you wait, just to watch your frustration bloom.

Jinx doesn’t care if you break. in fact, she wants you to. she wants you to shake and sweat and whimper from the effort of pleasing her. she expects nothing short of full devotion—and she always gets it. she only has to say, “be useful,” and you will do anything—begging, shaking, soaked through your cute little panties—just to hear her moan.

that was her favorite thing. how girls that smart can still fall apart for her. how all those degrees and good grades don’t mean shit when she has her legs spread and a hand in your hair, lazily pulling as she reads through the essay you wrote for her like it's a bedtime story.

and you love it. you love being used, love the challenge of keeping her satisfied. she edges you for hours while you beg into her thighs, and then she just grins, purring, “c’mon, baby. smart as you are, you still haven’t figured out how to make me come?”

you love every second of her ignoring you in public but curling into your lap in private. you love being ordered to type while she straddles your thigh, grinding slow and lazy while you try to keep your hands off. try to stay focused. try to be good.

so when your phone lights up with a succession of messages, you don’t hesitate to snatch it up.

jinx [9:47 PM]

hey brainiac

you’ve been so good lately, thought you deserved a treat

(it’s me. i’m the treat)

you’ve got like 10 mins before i start faking it with a pillow

that’s it. not even an emoji to soften the blow.

and it still hits you like a fucking spell.

your stomach drops, heat pooling between your legs so fast it makes you dizzy. your hand is shaking as you grab your keys, leaving your laptop open, the essay you’ve been outlining still blinking at the top of a google doc titled ‘DRAFT 3 - FINAL (for real this time).’

it’s ridiculous how fast your body responds to Jinx’s voice—even when it comes through a screen. your mouth is dry, your thighs already slick. every erratic step closer to her dorm feels like your brain is shutting down and your cunt is taking over, like your body knows exactly what it’s going there for.

you barely knock. just the softest brush of knuckles—more habit than necessity—before you push the door open with trembling fingers. and there’s Jinx, lit by nothing but her purple LED lights, sprawled out across the bed like temptation itself, waiting in a hoodie and thigh-high socks. she’s grinning like a spoiled dream, legs parted to display the lack of underwear, eyes half-lidded with the kind of smug boredom only someone worshipped too often can wear.

“there she is. my favorite little honor roll slut,” she greets, voice low and ruined like she’d been waiting with fingers between her folds for longer than she’d admit. “you look like you ran.”

you stand there in the doorway, chest rising too fast, sleeves bunched in your fists like you’re trying to hold yourself together.

you’re not doing a very good job.

Jinx tilts her head slightly, that slow, lazy grin tugging wider at her lips. “well?” she drawls, voice a husky thing wrapped in smoke and heat. “you gonna keep panting in the doorway, or are you gonna get on your knees and make the walk worth it?”

that does it.

you stumble forward like you’ve been yanked by a leash, the door clicking shut behind you. each step is half-mindless, guided more by want than will. she watches you crawl across the bed, eyes wide behind your glasses, lips already parted, trembling with the kind of reverence most people save for altars. because that’s what she is to you—something holy. something sharp and shining and above you.

Jinx doesn’t just fuck. she gets worshipped.

and now, there you are—her favorite little overachiever. so good. so smart. so utterly fucking wrecked already.

no words. no breath. just mouth on cunt—moaning as soon as your tongue meets slick, licking like you’ll die if you don’t get every drop. you lick up, then down, then in, sucking her clit into your mouth like you’re trying to memorize the shape of it, earning a groan as she throws her head back.

“god, you’re such a fucking sucker for this pussy,” she gasps. “i could probably get you to drop out if i let you live down there.”

she spreads her legs further and leans back like a goddess, licking the inside of her cheek while you work. your mouth is open, your jaw is shaking, and your cheeks are wet from something you can’t even name anymore by the time she comes for the third time. sweat, slick, tears, spit—it doesn’t matter.

“good girl. now do it again,” she simply whispers after coming back down from another high. “and maybe i’ll let you rub that filthy little cunt on my thigh.”

that’s all the motivation you need. glasses fogged and askew, fingers curled into her thighs like you need something to ground you while your mouth moves with the kind of desperation that doesn’t come from hunger—it comes from need, from obsession.

because that’s what you are. Jinx’s obsessed, overstimulated little genius, so smart on paper and so fucking dumb for her. the kind of girl who begs to be useful, who gets off on obedience, who’s already grinding her soaked little cunt against the bedsheets while sucking Jinx’s clit like her life depends on it.

she lets you struggle. lets you sob into her skin and tongue-fuck her like you’re starving. you’ve been there a while—maybe too long—trying so hard to make her come, again and again, needing to hear that low, lazy purr of approval. she doesn’t rush you. she doesn’t help you, either.

she just watches, calm and pretty, hips shifting just enough to guide the rhythm when you start losing it, jaw locking. Jinx knows just how long to keep you down there—long enough for your thighs to ache, long enough for your brain to fog over, long enough to make you forget yourself.

you lick her like you mean it—flat, deliberate strokes of your tongue from base to clit, slow enough to make her hips twitch, hard enough to make her throb.

and when she finally shatters again—soft and slow, spine arching, breath caught on a quiet gasp—you whimper like you’ve been blessed, collapsing after, face buried in her thigh, body twitching from the effort. she doesn’t say thank you. she just glances at you like you’re something cute and wipes a thumb across your soaked lips.

and you get lucky tonight—you worked for it, after all.

“c’mere,” she says softly, still coming down from it as she pats her thigh. “you’ve been so good. go ahead. rub that soaked little pussy on me.”

and you obey fast, clumsy, nearly falling off the bed in the rush to kick your panties off, knees red and sore as you straddle her, already apologizing under your breath for how wet you are before you even start moving. your hands grip Jinx’s shoulders for balance as you drag your swollen clit on muscle and skin and nothing else, grinding down in slow, stuttering rolls, making obscene little wet sounds.

and you must’ve done something really right, because she doesn’t push you off after you come for the first time that night. she doesn’t push you off after the second or third, either.

“uh—fuck—please—” you’ve been at it for what feels like hours, your rhythm messy and sloppy now, like you’re chasing something you can barely hold onto. you’re sweating, sobbing, leaving claw marks as you rut down, again and again, slick smearing across skin like you’re trying to fuse with her. all that intelligence and you’re just humping her thigh like a bitch in heat.

you’re dumb for it now. absolutely, irreparably stupid—babbling nonsense, half-words, desperate little gasps. you used to correct people’s grammar, now you can’t even form a sentence unless it starts with please and ends with Jinx, body jerking every few seconds like it can’t decide whether it wants more or less. it stopped being about pleasure a long time ago. you don’t even feel your cunt anymore—just heat, pressure, friction.

“you’re so fucking gone. riding me like the whole semester depends on it,” she taunts, voice low and full of delight. “what happened to all those big words, baby? what happened to my honors student?” a sound tears out of you—something between a sob and a moan—but you don’t answer.

your brain is fucked.

“you don’t know how to stop, do you?” she whispers. “so smart, and now you’re just… stuck. dumb little thing fucked herself into a loop.”

no answer.

and then—between one gasp and the next, between the frantic roll of your hips and the whimper that follows—it slips out:

“i love you—fuck—Jinx, i—”

soft. shattered. mindless.

Jinx hears it, but doesn’t say a thing. doesn’t stop you, doesn’t react. just sits back against the headboard, half-lidded, one hand on your waist as you keep fucking yourself into oblivion.

it’s not the first time someone says it, but this? this is different, because you don’t even know you said it. and somehow, that makes it worse. she’s not thinking about it, not really. just replaying the sound in her head—those three words, cracked and filthy, pulled from a mouth too wrecked to lie.

“c’mon, baby,” she finally whispers. “be my little dropout and come for me.”

your body jerks once, violently—hips slamming forward, clit catching just right—and you shatter, a silent scream falling from your mouth as your pussy pulses in waves you can’t ride anymore.

and then you collapse, right there in Jinx’s lap. she catches you before you can slump backward, arms looping around you just as your head drops to her shoulder, breath stuttering. she pulls back just enough to see your face—peaceful, lips parted, out cold.

out. cold.

she blinks—once, twice—then laughs, low and slow, rubbing a hand down your back as your soaked cunt still flutters against her thigh.

“holy shit,” she whispers breathlessly, grinning into your damp hair. “passed the fuck out on my thigh,” she murmurs, voice soft with something dangerously close to fondness. “guess we found your limit, huh?”

she doesn’t move for a while, simply watching you. blank-faced at first, expression unreadable. then, slowly and carefully, she reaches for the edge of the blanket and pulls it over your bare shoulders. not tucked in, not coddled. just… covered, like a quiet little claim.

she sits back against the wall, hoodie half-zipped, her thigh still damp, her breath finally starting to level out. normally, this is the part where she gets bored, where the affection fades, the attention drifts, and she starts thinking about who she’ll get her mouth on next month.

but then she looks at you again, brushing a strand of hair out of your face with a surprisingly soft touch. “might keep you around.” a pause. “might not even fuck it up.”

── .✦ BONUS (for the lover girls) ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁

you’re curled up in Jinx’s bed, both of you warm and clean and full of leftover vending machine snacks. you’re drowning in her hoodie, hood up, sleeves over your hands, a granola bar only halfway eaten resting on your chest like you’ve been too exhausted to finish chewing while your thighs are still twitching every now and then like your body hadn’t figured out how to stop remembering the orgasms.

she reaches for a bag of chips, opening it with her teeth. “okay,” she says, shoving one in her mouth, “serious question.”

you groan, half-asleep. “if it’s about sex, i’m gonna cry.”

she grins around a crunch. “it’s always about sex.” she grabs her phone from the nightstand, opens notes, and starts typing. “you’re lucky,” she says. “you’ve been selected for an exclusive, post-orgasm academic assessment.”

“no,” you mumble, immediately dragging the covers over your face.

“too late. i’m the professor now. pop quiz, bitch.” Jinx peels them right back, uncovering you. “i call it—‘Am I Allowed to Fuck You Again Yet?’”

you can’t help but groan once more. she just pulls you a little closer, then clears her throat dramatically. “question one: can you walk?”

“no.”

“honest. good. bonus point.” she keeps typing. “question two: is your pussy still thinking about me?”

you cover your face with both hands. “Jinx—”

“is that a yes?”

a whimper. “unfortunately.”

she kisses your forehead as a reward. another chip, another line. “question three: are you emotionally prepared to be fucked into oblivion again right now if i promise to kiss your thighs after?”

“Jinx.”

“that’s not a no.”

“that’s a crime.”

“still not a no,” she whispers, grinning. “god, you’re acing this.”

you bury your face in her shoulder, half-laughing, half-mortified.

“question four,” Jinx says softly, suddenly quieter. “do you feel safe?”

the answer comes fast. certain. “yes.”

she looks at you for a long second. no teasing. just… that look. then she drops her phone, pulling you tighter, and whispers into your hair: “cool. then i’ll wait.”

she reaches back and grabs a half-empty water bottle off the nightstand, passing it to you gently. “bonus question: are you emotionally prepared to feed me a granola bar while i grind on your thigh for ten minutes like a perv?”

a deep, slow sigh. “…i will if you stop asking questions.”

Jinx’s eyes light up. “consent confirmed.”

the inspo (durrrrr):

[074calicocat]

LOVE ؛ ଓ

cw: belly riding. yes it's a real thing and if you think this is crazy, it came from Twitter so that explains things. eerily vanilla for once. reader doesn't have a specific age but if you want to imagine an age gap, go ahead 👍, I forgot to mention it but Joel is wearing low waist jeans and he's CHUBBY. and passing descriptions of choking but barely

notes: insanely proud of myself for making this not freaky to the max. i didn't call Joel daddy once (that's for next time 😈)

"Are you sure about this?"

Joel likes control. He likes stability and he likes certainty. But for you, he's willing to make acceptations.

"Relax, it's not that serious," you reassure him, looming over him. Damn you, you have him good tonight. Shirtless and sprawled into the bed, shutting all the curtains tightly like the neighbors haven't heard you scream his name before. But that's what makes him curious because your own mischievous expression means you had an idea.

And you make him curious because you nettles your bare self right on his lower abdomen, your warm cunt making contact with his rather thick happy trail. "Woah..." Right. Excellent commentary on his part.

You just let out a breathless laugh as your hands wander over his torso, skimming over the scars and hair that adorn him. You have this sort of revered look in your eyes that makes him weak around the edges, his hands coming to settle on your waist.

"You look...really pretty, Joel. Like, so nice," you whisper, your fingers making their way to his neck. They leave a trail of warmth in their wake and once your thumbs reach his pulse points, your hands wrap around his neck.

Any other time, this would be the clearest threat in the world. But you're his girl, his little miss. You could slap him right now and while it would hurt, he wouldn't have a single complaint.

"I like your gray hair a lot," you continue, slowly rocking your hips over his now chubby belly. You're coating him in your slick and for some odd reason, the sight makes him feel like a teen again with how all his blood rushes south. "Gods, I just wanna...wanna...shit-"

it's adorable to him how easily you lose yourself in pleasure. The way your words falter and a little moan leaves your lips instead. He's also at a loss for words and just holds you tight, dragging your drooling pussy over his abdomen over and over again. Watching how your clit brushes against the base of his graying bush and whimper at the contact, making his let out his own breathless sighs at the sight of your bliss.

Joel likes control but he likes you more. In fact, he loves you. Would do just about anything for you, from killing a mob of Clickers to those pesky spiders that make home in your boots. Would let you use him like a fucktoy for hours on end just like this, as long as he gets to see you come undone. "You're perfect, angel." That's all he can manage to choke out because somehow, you peel him to his very bones. Even if his cock is laying neglected in his jeans and you're bearing all your weight down on his throat, you have him enraptured.

He sucks in a breath as your movements turn frantic. The rhythmic roll of your hips now becomes desperate humping against his belly, your mouth falling open as little "ah, ah, ah" escape you. "Come on, baby," he rasps, eager to see you cum. "I got you, I got you." His hands go from your waist to the soft fat of your tits, popping one of your nipples in his mouth as you lean down. He suckles on you with nothing short of pure passion, getting spit all over your chest as his free hand pinches and tweaks your other nipple.

It's not long until you finally cum, thighs trembling as your face screws up in ecstasy. He can feel your cunny pulse against his chub and he could die happy in the moment if that was the world's will.

He finally lets up on his onslaught on your tits until your sniffling and weakly tugging his head away, just to flop yourself down on top of him. "That-" you scramble for air, your forehead resting against his. "That was good."

"...Thanks for the review."

You both laugh and you lazily press your lips to his temple, brushing your nose against his. Like your rabbits or something, nuzzling against each other. It's cute. You're cute. You're perfect. From your breathless words to the way your slick and cum seep into his bush.

[oddlylovingaddiction]

; Coming Full Circle.

CLEARLY you all are desperate for an actual story on this blurb I quickly wrote up, so if this part 1 does well, I’ll make it into a series! I also can’t decide who I should ship reader with… Conner Kent maybe?? Let me know if that sounds good ♡

CW: Reader is pregnant BUT is gender neutral only being referred to as you, if you don’t have the ability to get pregnant you do now (in this potential series). Neglected reader x (platonic.) bat family. reader is somewhat introverted and is describe loosely as attractive. Reader is probably around in your 20s (21 - 25) and is the 5th(??) oldest. READER ALSO HAS NO IDEA THAT THE WAYNE FAMILY ARE SUPERHEROS (for now…)

TW: Abuse in the form of emotional neglect, Reader’s mom is dead, Pregnancy and rich people.

You weren’t a kid anymore. Part of you wonders if you ever got the chance to be one. Your mom died when you were pretty young, barely 6 at the time, you don’t remember much about her. She was pretty though, maybe that’s where you got your looks from?

You spent 4 years at an orphanage after her passing, until one day a car came and picked you up and took you to a big manor. Apparently Bruce Wayne was your father, but not just an adoptive one, your biological father. That was definitely shocking, You looked so much like your mother that you really couldn’t see the resemblance, maybe if you really focused you could see some aspects of the new father you suddenly gained.

You only met Bruce a handful of times, the first time was to greet you. He seemed particularly disinterested, you were only just a bit younger than Jason which he was currently focused on at the time. Bruce showed you to your room it was way bigger than your room in the orphanage then promptly disappeared, Alfred (who you came later to learn was the butler and NOT your new grandfather.) showed you around the rest of the Manor, claiming that Bruce had paperwork that needed more attention than his newly gained child, okay, he didn’t put it like that but that’s basically what he ment.

The Manor was big and rather empty, you wonder what the point of all this space was as a child. As you grew older you grew to understand and appreciate its big and emptiness, because then you couldn’t run into any of your other siblings. Whenever you meet them, it’s awkward, like you’re an outsider. Which you suppose you are, but it’s different because you later learn that all of your siblings were adopted, minus Damian but you only gained him as your sibling towards the end of your stay in the Manor. So why did they treat you like you were the odd when out, when they all should know perfectly how that feels since they were also outsiders at one point? To this day you have no clue.

You quickly grew adjusted to not being around your family. The first the phew years was difficult, you craved their attention like any normal child. You remember you used to cry at night as a kid wondering what you did wrong for them to barely even glance your way, to not even love you… but after the third birthday with the exact same gift you got on previous birthdays from Bruce, continually getting rejected by all your siblings on your offers to hang out and occasionally catching wholesome moments between your siblings and Bruce where they were chatting and laughing without you, You naturally gave up on trying.

You instead grew as a person without them, you made friends at school, developed your own personal fashion taste, you discovered your hobbies and your personality. You occasionally heard news about your family from Alfred (You never got used to only hearing news from him), like how Jason died, Tim was brought in, turns out Jason was alive and at some point Damian was also brought in. The timeline was messy. Honestly you didn’t think much about why Bruce adopted so many damn kids nor did you bother to concern yourself with their affairs.

Instead you discovered somethings more important. Number one is your huge allowance, you knew Bruce was a billionaire and filthy, disgustingly rich, but not to the point your allowance was in the MILLIONS. The second thing is nobody cares about you, to the point one time when you were around 17 you stayed at a friend’s house for two days without telling anyone, came back and apparently no one had any idea you even left when you asked Alfred.

Those two things got you to where you were now, a stunning and safe apartment with the most beautiful view in the whole of Gotham, a loving husband who would do practically anything for you, heavily pregnant in your 20s and currently surrounded by your shocked family.

You had a fight with your husband and you were livid at him deciding to spend some time at the Wayne Manor just to cool off (and to somewhat teach him a lesson), You honestly thought that nobody would care when you came waltzing back. Since nobody cared any other time.

However you were sorely mistaken. To the point you regret not just staying at a hotel or something. When you first walked through the door, Alfred greeted you. You were occasionally in contact with him, but you neglected to tell him about the pregnancy, let alone the fact you were married mainly because you knew he’d run and tell the entire family and you’d rather keep your life private from them. Which is probably why he stopped mid greeting to stare at your belly. It looked like he was buffering as he let you in and led you to the kitchen, you texted him on the ride there that you were a bit thirsty, so he prepared you some tea.

“My word, you’re really pregnant?” Alfred finally said once you sat down at one of the counters, which earned a chuckle from you as he slid your tea over to you.

“Last time I checked… which was in a mirror and when I felt the little gremlin kicking around in me on the drive here, I am.” You say with a smile before proceeding to chug your tea. “May I ask-” Alfred starts but before he can finish he’s interrupted by Damian, who entered the kitchen to grab some snacks at some point but instead noticed you.

“What on earth is that.” Damian hissed, he looked disturbed and disgusted as he pointed at your belly, like he just discovered a bug. Which ticked you off.

“An Alien, no use your head what does it look like?” You sarcastically reply. Normally Damian would’ve retorted however you quickly decide that you want to relax in the living room where you could continue your conversation with Alfred. As you and Alfred quickly leave, abandoning your empty tea cup, and finally settling in the living room. However you suddenly hear a STORM of footsteps from inside the house. You turn around and realize Damian followed you to the living room, phone in hand and clearly had texted the entire family about his new discovery.

“Fuck me…” you mutter softly, your peaceful days of being ignored were probably officially over. All thanks to your one dumb decision to come here. While you silently regretted your choices, almost the entire Wayne family had run into the living room, Tim was the first to run in shouting “WHO’S PREGNANT?”

You only really snap out of it when you notice the entire Wayne family staring at you, they got here faster than expected. Not all of them were here but most of them.

‘Maybe I really am carrying an Alien’ You ponder momentarily before you begin to speak, “Listen I’m only here momentarily because I had a small disagreement with my husband—” “HUSBAND?” Dick squeaks out his voice breaking in shock. “Yes— wait why are you all here anyways?” You say as it dawns on you how ridiculous this whole reaction was. Hell even BRUCE WAYNE, the supposed father you were under the care of, that you never saw for the majority of your life was even here.

“Well cause you know Bruce is always bringing home kids it’s the first time someone other than him is bringing home one, let alone an unborn one.” Cassandra pointed out, which you promptly agreed nodding your head. That explains it, to this damn family it must be pretty alien.

“Okay, well I’m pregnant. I get it shocking and stuff but there’s no need to—“ You say trying to calm down the situation when you are interrupted by Damian who’s pointing at your belly where your baby, as if sensing the crowd of spectators, decided to do its own acrobatic routine.

“Ew why is it moving….” Damian said, You’re starting to wonder why you even talk. “Don’t say ew. It’s just kicking, if you want you can touch my belly—” you regret those words instantly as around 20 hands immediately fly to touch your belly where the baby continues to kick. You’d almost find the whole situation adorable if it weren’t for the fact they were your family who previously didn’t give a flying fuck about you.

All of a sudden Bruce, noticing your uncomfort, clears his throat. When he does the 20 hands resend from touching your belly, “How far along are you?” He asks calmly but you can clearly hear his voice shake slightly. “7 months.” You reply calmly to which Damian opens his mouth again.

“Jesus when is it going to come out— wait how does it come out…” He still look horrified to which you suppressed a laugh. “Did no one teach you where babies come from?” You laugh and then pause when the room goes silent.

“Oh my god…” you mutter, no wonder he’s so disturbed. You hear Bruce quickly whisper to Selina “I thought you told him!” To which Selina fires back, “Me?! It’s your job!”

That’s your cue to leave before you have to witness a very uncomfortable conversation. “Okay, I’m going to go to my room, I’m tired.” To which everyone nods giving you space to leave.

Phew hours had gone by and you were relaxing in bed on your phone, when you heard a knock on your door.

“Come in!” You call, assuming it was Alfred but instead the one who came waltzing in was Damian. He looked awkward and you definitely felt that as well.

“Hello.” He said as he walked over to you staring at you where you were lying down.

“Uh… Hi Damian… how can I help you?” You ask praying he just going to briefly insult you and walk away like he did in the past. Instead he looks curious.

“I have been educated on where kids come from. It is very disturbing.” You chuckle at his statement and at his face full of regret while putting your phone away.

“It’s not too bad, at least you learned from your parents and not your friends half way into high school.” You say smiling reaching out and patting his small shoulder at your own memory of your shocked friends as they held your hand in the bathroom and slowly explained it to the poor naive you.

“Yes that sounds way worse.” He admits as you laugh at his sentiment, to which he scowls a bit before snapping out of it. “Anyways, like I said, I have been educated and although it’s very disturbing I commend your bravery for creating life.”

Damn it, he made it awkward again. You resend your hand awkwardly and place it back on your chest, Damian continues speaking though. “I also did some research and apparently the fetus can hear around the 5th month, and since you said it’s in the 7 month stage it can hear. Which means it heard me insulting it.”

You nod at his words, encouraging him to get whatever he’s planning on doing over with already. When he sees your nod, he removes his hands from behind his back, he’s holding a book.

“So to replace my negative words I have brought an educational book, normally I know perhaps the other parent my read so the baby gets used to both your voices, however since your a single parent—“

you give him an incredulous look “no… I have a husband.” To which he stares at you like your pants are on fire, that’s how much of a liar he thinks you are.

“Yes… right.. well since this supposed husband isn’t here to read to your child I shall.” He plops himself beside you, not accepting any protests from you about how you really do have a husband, he begins to read, you give in closing your eyes, clearly you’re going to be here awhile. “Law 1. Always make those above you feel comfortably superior…” you scrunch your face at his words as he reads. Half way into chapter one your eyes fly open and realize that he’s actually reading.

“Are you reading 48 laws of power right now?” You say staring at the book he’s holding as you prop yourself up on your elbows. He gives you a look like you just said the sky was blue.

“Yes of course? It needs to come out smart. Now please lie back down.” He says pushing you to lie back down. You give in once again, you’re too tired to protest against Damian anyways…

At some point both you and Damian passed out, the book could only hold both your interests long enough and the warmth of your room was just perfect for a nap. You stare down at the still sleeping Damian, whose head is currently resting on your belly, contemplatively. In someways you were jealous he fit in perfectly with the Wayne family and was actually treated like their sibling and child. However on the other hand you were honestly glad you were not loved like he was, because if you were you would’ve never met your husband (that you are now starting to miss…) and you also would’ve never been given the opportunity to create your own family, one that will love you truly.

You didn’t like the fact that Damian used to insult you occasionally in the past, but it’s not like you held it against him and you also don’t regret making fun of him back. Although he was a brat at times, he was still a child. A child in a huge messy family that just happened to be your little brother. Perhaps that was the gnawing feeling in your heart. The knowledge such a small kid like him will probably struggle in someways you used to is weighing heavy on you. He was earnest, and clearly tried his best from the fact alone he came to your room to read a book that he knew would help the baby… even if that book was the laws of power and was incredibly boring (in your opinion.)

He was just like you when you were smaller. That thought made you gently reach down and stroke his head. “I hope you’ll only make smart choices, but even if you don’t I’ll still love you, my dear. Just remember, don’t hold onto people who will never hold you gently and lovingly. After all, You are the most precious thing to me and you will be precious to so many others. You are worth your weight in gold.” You whisper to the sleeping boy, the same words your mother said at her passing. You feel yourself getting chocked up, after all this day was full of emotions for you. And you aren’t quite ready to face those emotions so you close your eyes.

After saying all those words and remembering the things you’d almost rather forget you find yourself pulled back into sleep. This time though, Damian had a small smile etched on his face as he slept..

[monstas1ut]

Characters when they’re breeding you :)

SASUKE UCHIHA, SATORU GOJO, EREN YEAGER

Contains

__ +18 black coded reader, female reader, Squirting ,creaming, the word slut, impreg, breeding, size diff, teasing, pussy eating, talk of getting reader pregnant, unprotected sex

___brown skin can be dark, light, medium color.. whatever. brown is brown.. and it's gorgeous

a/n

__ I’m so sorry I didn’t post in a year I think lmao. Idk what happened. Forgive me :(

Sasuke Uchiha

It’s not unknown, everyone has heard his preaching about his clan and he wants to restore it. However, most people are more of speaking behind his back. How can he restore a clan when he is the only one left and yet he’s cold, frosted and lonesome? Where is the woman of his dreams? It’s merely the fact of his life, and frankly, even he knew it. Appearing to everyone in Konoha, he’s lonely, an outcast, forlorn.

That truly wasn’t it. The male simply didn’t want to settle for a woman that wasn’t worth his while. This man came from a family filled with talent and ruthless power. Indeed, he could’ve easily rushed into a relationship, however he would like more of a stable relationship. Now, justified, he is fucking a woman that bared no ring on her finger yet, but she was still his.

How could anyone not tell? The second she decided to move into the village, Sasuke found himself staying longer rather than going out on ventures. Everyone figured he’d just gotten tired, and that’s when women of all different shapes and sizes would line up. Unfortunately, they just didn’t understand… They didn’t get it.

“How come you’re so strong, but you can’t give me more..” Those words were like a black feather running down your back. All you could feel were your knees giving out, your body seeping into the bed. But Sasuke wasn’t having that… no.. he needs you to cum again. He needs you at your most neediest, he needs to warp your mind. Maybe it was manipulation, but you enjoyed his dick so much.. how come you weren’t trying to give him a baby already?

Okay.

“Sasukeee, shit~! Stop- gonna make me squirt..” Your words fell on deaf ears. Truly, the Uchiha couldn’t care or give a damn. Besides, you didn't taste bad at all. The male’s tongue was not afraid to slip into regions nobody has ever been before. Your pretty, glistening, brown lips were dripping in juices and saliva. It was a mess, and Sasuke purely enjoyed you in such a state. He’s not known to be with many women but he knew what he was doing. Seeing how you were slipping right through his fingers from pure ecstasy, seeing your pussy gush from just a bit of sucking on that clit… It was easy… But Sasuke would’ve been curse you if you weren’t so damn beautiful.

“There it is.. Don’t make it difficult next time.”

This man couldn’t hide it. He was entranced, he was deeply in love. If you could see him right now, your pussy juices dripping from his face, his right eye was now a deep red that showed the uchiha’s purpose. Red, menacing and ruthless.. while the other stayed that pretty purple. His senses, they were all on you. His eyes half lidded and his lips almost parted from each other as his fair colored cock slipped right back into you. Right after slurping on that pussy like a good smoothie.

It turned your world quick. He slid in like a key, it was perfect. Those veiny hands touched your shoulders, causing you to shiver as he ran down your shimmery brown arms, right to your wrists. Your pretty, fucked out face was pushed firm into the bed as you had no leverage to keep yourself up. Drool seeped out of your mouth onto the sheets as your eyes yelled with hearts.

You loved this man. Should you give him children? No… yes? Your mind was all over the place, but it stayed stuck in the gutter.

Sasuke kept both your wrists, pulling them back as he watched you give in. He could physically see it happen to you. It actually made his eyes widen just a smidge as the blood continued to run to his cock. Fuck. Were you really giving up? He noticed your tone, how your moans were more like chirps, whines. He didn’t stop. His thrusts were rough yet so slow and dangerously addictive. Each thrust gave a flutter to your insides, the ripples of your ass got more intense with each one. Sasuke damn sure didn’t take his eyes off of that, he loved the way that brown mound of an ass slapped against him. It was so far from ugly.

“What are you going to do for me…” His voice was grazing your skin, his breathing only getting louder as he held back each moan… The mattress was poor, all of the convincing, the pleas.. the mattress was just as broken down as you. Your walls were so nicely abused by this man that you had to thank him. You truly did! And as your next orgasm began to fall, you did too.

“Oh-oh-.. fuck! M-Imma’ give you a baby.. my- fuck Sasuke! Imma have your baby-..” it was so hard for you to speak, and yet you spit it out. Oh, you got to hear the pathetic groan of Sasuke.. just continuously diving deep into you as he let go of your wrists unwillingly. It’s like his hands got weak. You noticed this and practically gasped before lifting your upper body and he just knew his time was done.

Sasuke uchiha took pride in himself, but this? You were such a little sex demon.

“Yeah.. imma give you all your fuckin babies.. get me pregnant.” Now sass revealed, and Sasuke was trying to bite back his words and imagination. It was going wild while he noticed you bouncing back on his cock. It was disappearing every second, your pussy just swallowed it up with each bounce. He couldn’t even keep up… no, he kept thinking about that round belly.

His fingers were digging so hard in your hips they may leave marks. That’s how you knew he was so close.. he was right there. It was true, Sasuke’s breathing was getting heavier, quicker.. and his grip on you was tight.. but not as tight as your pussy.

“Too fucking tight.. take it… take it all then.” Although his voice was deep, he couldn’t hide that sharp, whistle of a moan that slipped by when he pushed forward, just balls deep in your brown pretty pussy. You couldn’t breathe, but you felt the warmth and splash of cum in your pussy. It was so much, it happened so quickly..

And all you had to say was that you’d have his babies…?

“All that cum…” You whispered as his head was resting on your upper back. You could feel his breathing all hot on your back as he was actually rubbing his thumbs gently on your hips. He was such a meanie but sometimes he just knew when to be nice. He was going to have to be nicer when you’re plump with his kids…

Satoru Gojo

You merely believe he’s joking. Literally, you didn’t blink an eye. Perhaps that sent a terrible message to the jokester. Fanning your hand at him, watching a shitty little documentary about something boring. The clocks in your head just weren’t turning correctly. But seriously, how could they when this grown man was pouting?

“Y/n… I want a baby. I wanna dress him up in identical clothes.” He said, you remember it clearly when he said this. He was not serious, couldn’t be. That little laugh that came from him, his animated expressions of demonstrating having a child. “Yeah okay Gojo” you spit out, only to turn back to your phone without having another thought about it.

You literally signed your name on the dotted line.

“You promiseeeee?”

“Yeah yeah..”

That’s what you said, and Satoru nodded. Now why did you believe that was the end of it? Probably because your boyfriend is a jokester and he plays too many games. You could tell when he was joking or being serious right? Or maybe you just weren’t looking at him and taking him seriously? It was the latter.

The whole day was filled with normalcy , nothing said of a baby nor a child. It was supposed to be a joke.

“Na ah ah… Keep them just~ like~ this~… Makes ya’ look even prettier this way” The male was piercing you with his words, they dug right in you just like his cock. He was just simply admiring his work, watching you fold your legs in a pretzel by his command. He really took a liking to this position, especially since he could hold onto your ankles.

All you did was shakily breathe out, your eyes filled with gloss and regret. Why didn’t you believe him? Now your pussy was getting all ruined and messy. And he was chuckling about it!

“Atta girl..” he spoke, the steam of his words burning right through you as you squeezed your eyes shut. Embarrassed by your gushy noises coming from your needy cunt, you decided not looking at Satoru would suffice. However, he just wasn’t having that.. first you don’t believe him, now you didn’t want to look at him? You were going to be teased today, you deserved it.

“Look at me, pretty. Watch me put a baby in you, since you thought I was jokin’..” Satoru didn’t miss a beat, his cock going in and out and in and out. You were forced to stare at him now, but you got butterflies looking into his deep, light blue eyes. They glowed with intent on getting you full with babies. But you couldn’t look at his cock going in and out. If you did, you’d see your lower stomach just bulging out ever so slightly. He was so juicy and big. His cock was as pale colored as him, veiny and had an ever so slight curve that would tease at your g-spot. And the tip of it was so pink, just as pink as your insides.

“S-Sat-…”

“That’s not my name.. Say it full out for me” His smirk was laced throughout his words as he watched your eyes roll back. Those pretty russet colored breasts were bouncing so much he could internally laugh at your predicament… Sure, you looked beautiful but sometimes it’s funny when you’re wrong. And you were wrong about it all. “Satoru… Satoru baby..” you choked out, your legs slipping from the pretzel position as you became tired.. but he just gave a little shrug.

It was alright, because he pressed his lanky fingers and his palm against the underside of your thighs and he pushed forward. You were folded up again, yet in an entirely different position as you watched him concentrate. He couldn’t stop, not for a second. Those burly arms of his were flexing as his pretty blue eyes watched your pussy eat his cock up. He was enjoying the show… and he enjoyed it even more when your eyebrows were all furrowed. He only looked up at your face once to experience heaven.

“Satoru-… O-Okay~… J-Just dump a baby in me- fuck.” You finally said it, and you threw your head back as he sped up his thrusts. His white locks of hair looked like the sun up above as he had a daring smirk on his face before he got serious. That pussy was talking to him, and he’d be dumb not to respond.

The bed was making noise with each thrust, and Satoru gripped your thighs tight. He tightened his core and gave it all he had, turns out that was just a bit too much for you because you were already creaming on his pretty dick. It was an artistic expression.. just coating his cock in your cum, it made him chuckle.. a moan following it.

“Messy…” Satoru muttered before the thrusts ceased and he slid out of your pretty little gaping hole before gently slipping two lanky fingers into you. It made you jolt with pleasure and overstimulation. It made you look at him with confusion, but you were too late. His cock slid right back into you, and his fingers slipped into his mouth.. just tasting every bit of your naughty substances.

“Oh my god-..” you moaned loudly, feeling like you were going to cry from the deepest sex you’ve ever experienced. But you weren’t the only one. Tasting your sweet cum while digging in your pussy with his tip was the best feeling ever. And Satoru was not one to keep his moans to himself. He made sure you knew your pussy was the best.

“Gonna have my baby right?”

“Yess-.. all of them…” you cried out, gripping the bedsheets and damn near tearing them.. that’s before you heard the prettiest, deepest moan. His blue eyes were filled with intense energy and warmth, that’s before you were filled with the same things… warmth and his energy.

“Damn right”

Eren Yeager

“You think I’d look cute pregnant or would I look ugly?”

Eren looked at you while you had stuffed clothes under your shirt. You shaped it so it looked like a belly, and to be fair.. you looked cute. Not saying that because you were his girlfriend, but just in general. He kind of rolled his eyes though. “Cute. Why would you look ugly” his tone sounds like he’s uninterested, but his heart thumped in ways he couldn’t explain. He never really thought of you pregnant.. and why the hell not?

“Dunno. I just can’t see it.” You added as you removed the clothes, only adding fire to the already burning house that was laying on the bed as it watched you in the bathroom mirror.

That’s when said house stood up and with a sigh he and his tall form was now behind you. His long, brown hair tickled your head while his hands grazed against your ass before stopping at your hips. He was bare at the top… scars and battles from the war on his chest that showed his strength.. truth be told, it made you wet.

“Can’t see it? Well maybe cuz’ it’s not real. See.. women get a glow from pregnancy.. not sayin you ain’t already got that.. but it’s a different glow.” Eren explained gently as you felt the cold touch of his chain behind you.. just whispering against the back of your neck. You stared at him in the mirror as he smirked with those pretty white teeth. “And how do you know all that..” you purred, almost teasing him.

“It’s a real thing.. some women get it. But you’re so gorgeous, I just know you’d turn even more heads than you do already, baby” He stopped to look at you, but not in the mirror.. from the side of your face before he kissed your jawline. “Eren… you don’t know that though-..” “wanna bet?”

The little sex fairy put an arrow right through the both of you. Had you not looked at him in a sultry manner, Eren would’ve probably let it go. He hasn’t thought about babies.. but the second you say something about pregnancy and he’s all over it like white on rice. To be fair, it was quite pathetic in a way, and he’ll admit it.. but he got weak thinking about you just all chunky with his kid.

Eren’s imagination was bright and sunny, and his determination was just that much bigger.

“R-Right there….” You sharply breathed in as you watched the man in the mirror. His veiny, scruff hand around your throat with ease. He was treating you like a puppet, making sure you stayed in the same position, and moved to his heart's content. “I know baby.. I know..” he practically cooed, his other hand caressing your thigh that was up on the sink counter. It was jiggling just as much as your ass was as he gave slow and soft strokes inside of you. This was one of Eren’s soft days.. Free from anger, free from frustration.. he has been like this for awhile now.. maybe after being discharged he’s calmed down.

Sex with him now is like a sweet sensual melody… and as of right now, he needed it to be.

“What am I doin right now, baby..”

“Y-You m-makin love to me..” you slurred out, eyes slowly rolling to the back of your head as you choked back a moan.

“Thats right… and why am I going so deep..”

“So I can give y-fuck… so I can give you a baby..” you moaned out sharply as the once cold, marble counter was now filled with the warmth of your body heat and the warm sex you two were taking part in.. The floor beneath you both was a bit wet, Eren didn’t care… He never did care for mess. Especially now.

“Thats right… Give me that reward for beating this pussy so good.” The words Eren spoke were like vibrations to your clit. It shook you to your core, like it was on the highest setting. He knew what to say and what buttons to press in your mind. Not only that, but he knew this position was so deep. You were opened up like a slut, and the way your pussy was gurgling on his cock was just embarrassing.. but that showed just how open it was.. how stretched it was for him and him only.

Eren loved it, let alone your tears falling down your face. It made him speed up. The small little decor on the sink’s counter was pushed off by accident, and your body was now being lifted from the floor a bit as his thrusts were now close together. You couldn’t feel the floor with your foot.. and the other was perched on the counter still.

“Eren!.. oh- fuck me..” your mind was spinning. It’s like you could feel each vein of his cock on your pink walls. You could feel your pussy crying for release, your orgasm at the tippy top. It was like a waterfall, your body trembled, but you could tell you weren’t the only one reaching that high.

Eren got quiet. And everytime he gets quiet, he starts biting that bottom lip of his.. he gets all red in the face and his brown hair starts to stick to his forehead a bit. His eyes spark focus, and he will then drop his head back. You watched it in the mirror, his every move.. that’s before he looked at you in the mirror once before a husky chuckle left his lips.. a moan escaping from his throat.. it was from the depths of his heart..

And his cum straight from his heavy balls went straight into your wetness. Your body took in every drop, every single one.

“I-Ion know if that did it or not..lemme try again”

ⓒ Monstas1ut .do not copy

[merakiui]

Ohh. I remember student Azul fucking his teacher and that made me think. What if the octatrio hooking up with one of the teachers from land bootcamp? Maybe a pretty little thing with a kind smile and always willing to answer their questions. It's not unusual for some of their mers to crush on their cute teacher, they can kind of understand why the mermaid princess fell for her human prince. They still think about her, especially when they're jerking off to the thought of her pretty little legs and what might be hidden between them. Damn human anatomy, they never had to deal with a hard on back in the coral sea.

A couple years later NRC is hosting an event that has an open campus to visitors and who should show up but their favorite land teacher. She's happy to see they're doing well and adjusted to life on land.

Something something innocent questions about things like dating turn into talking about sex and one(or maybe it turns into a threesome) of them hooking up with their teacher at their dorm and she slides them her number afterward, keep in touch now. Hell, maybe they'll consider taking their internship near land bootcamp if it means seeing their fav teacher more often.

👀 oooo Octavinelle who are determined to show their teacher what they learned since adjusting to life on land. Wanting to impress you with all of their new knowledge and skills. Eagerly spreading your legs to eat you out or making you gush around his cock when he grinds circles into your perky clit. And you praise him so sweetly because he’s doing such a good job and he really has learned so much about anatomy.

They’re all still just a little clumsy, though. It’s their first time doing this sort of thing with a human, but you’re so kind and patient, even giving them a little nudge out of shyness or self-consciousness by taking the first few steps. Wrapping your hands around their cocks and coaxing the third to your mouth. Spreading yourself open, sliding two fingers inside so they can see how wet and gummy your pussy is.

Doing their internship near land boot camp so they can meet with you during breaks. Having cute lunch dates and chatting about work. Late-night dates that trickle into morning when you spend most of that time glued to each other, fucking sweet and slow because you missed the three of them so much. And maybe in the summer they’ll offer to bring you back to the Coral Sea with them. It’s quite beautiful in the summer. Waters are warmer. Food is plentiful… surely no dubious reasons at all. They just want to show off their home and impress you. That’s all. :)

[swampstew-stories]

First Date

Summary: Blind dates can be a good or bad surprise.

Warnings: none, entirely fluff maybe a smidge suggestive. Female reader x Kid, Killer is here for reasons.

Minors DNI ever.

Prompt inspired by these two images from Twt.

You were nervous, it’d been a while since you’d gone on a date. A friend set you up with someone who was a little outside your normal dating pool but you were willing to take a chance to meet up. At the very least, to see how cute they were.

When your date walked in you could hardly believe your eyes. You knew who he was. Loose acquaintances sure but you’d crossed paths enough times to know each other on a first name basis. Didn’t you have his number already?

While he spoke to the hostess, you quickly scrolled your phone screen and to your surprise, you don’t have his number. Odd. You were sure you had exchanged numbers before at one party or another.

Kid began walking towards your table, he gave a short hand wave to acknowledge you from the distance. Behind his colossal figure, you could see a blond man with a face mask trailing slowly behind him. He seemed familiar too.

Standing up to greet him, Kid made you feel so small in comparison as he bent at the waist and leaned his torso down, placing an arm around your shoulder in an awkward but friendly hug. He waited for you to sit before he took his own seat.

You’d lost sight of the blonde but you realized he had taken a seat at the table in front of yours – you just didn’t notice him because of Kid’s frame. Large, hunky, frame.

“I meant to call you m’self to set this up but I didn’t have your number like I thought I did. Nami was being a pain in the ass, trying to extort me for your number. Robin was decent enough to pass the message along.”

“She kept it vague, was that intentional?” you asked shyly.

“Not really,” Kid grinned that damn sexy knee-buckling grin of his. “I told her if she felt obligated to warn you, that was her prerogative.”

“Well she didn’t have anything negative to say,” you chuckle, “All she said was, ‘a friend of a friend wants to take you out, he’s a bit scruffy but mostly harmless. Easy on the eyes too’.”

“Haah, I s’ppose no news is good news,” he chuffed. “I’m going to be blunt, Y/N…”

You watched as he straightened himself, locking his amber eyes to yours in an almost hypnotizing stare. You felt like a rabbit, snared. A doe caught in headlights.

“I just want to say I have a crush on you, bad. Been feeling this for months now and I think it’s time I told you about my feelings, for real.”

“Oh,” your mouth popped open in shock. “Wait, who’s the other guy?”

“Oh Killer? He’s here for moral support.”

Your brows furrow, “Heh are you being for real right now?”

Kid nodded and tilted his head to the side so you could see his blond companion.

“I’m here for you, Kid. Do your thing.”

Kid’s face came back in sight as he sat up, “He’s my ride until I finish fixing my motorcycle.”

“Ah, I see. I feel like I remember you telling me you did repairs or something?”

Kid’s eyes widened in excitement, “Yeah, I do.” He seemed to relax in his seat, never taking his eyes off you. “Me and a few guys own a shop where we fix things up. Good business and keeps me busy. Lately been finding myself unable to focus on things for too long.”

“How come? Feeling stressed?” you wrung your hands under the table, your gut bubbling with anticipation.

“Naahh not stress. Keep thinking about this pretty girl I don’t see enough of and needed to do something about it.”

A blush crept on your cheeks at his statement, “You said it’s been months, may I ask why it took so long?”

It was Kid’s turn to blush, not answering right away and scratching the back of his head as he considered how to answer. He didn’t need to—

“He’s shy,” Killer coughed out loud. That made Kid turn and glare at him. “What? It’s true.”

Letting out a quiet giggle, “Well now is better than never. I could have sworn we got each other’s numbers at Vivi’s birthday party.”

Somehow Kid turned redder, “Me too. I uhh, tend to not save names a lot of the time.”

“Is that why you never called?” you couldn’t help laughing, “Can I see your contact list?”

Kid handed you his phone, mumbling an embarrassed apology. You scrolled through the numbers and names, amused at the amount of legitimate names that were saved compared to unlisted numbers or nicknames.

One entry caught your attention and you clicked to expand the details. Lo’ and behold – it was your number.

“You did have it, see?” you handed it back to him.

“Ah shit, you’re ‘Mouse?!’ Why the hell did I save it as that?”

You’re memories went back to the night of Vivi’s party – a bonfire at the beach. It had been one of those parties that lasted all day. You had worn a bikini that had a tied ribbon with long strings trialing loosely, tickling your thighs.

While you engaged with party goers you snacked and drank, but it wasn’t until you were hanging out with Kid that you were eating cheese and crackers.

‘Heh, you look pretty cute,’ he tipped his half full cup at you. ‘I ever tell you that?’

‘Nope, not once,’ you stuck your tongue out at him.

‘That ain’t right. Here, gimme your number,’ he handed you his phone. ‘That way I can tell you more often.’

Giggling you took it and punched in your number, leaving the contact details open so he could save it. His eyes were trailing up and down your body, only returning his attention to you as he took his phone back.

‘Hmm,’ he hummed, ‘Ya kinda look like a mouse,’ he started laughing. ‘With your cheese and your tail.’

You whined and moaned about the swim suit as you fixed the strings once more but it was for naught. Kid ducked down and grabbed the string, twirling it in the air and partly dragging you to his friend group.

“Ohhhhh right!!” Kid smacked his forehead lightly, tufts of hair fell over his headband. You felt the strongest urge to reach over and wrap it around your finger.

“You ripped the seam on that suit!”

“I’d be more than happy to buy you several more,” he gave you a toothy grin. “That is, if you’re feeling me too and want to go out.”

“I was going to say yes regardless but I love a good bribe!”

The two of you became so engrossed in conversation that neither of you noticed Killer had left his table. Silently, he walked to the waiter and left enough to cover your date with Kid. He glanced over at the two of you once last time before exiting the casual restaurant.

Tugging out a pair of riding gloves from his jacket, Killer unloaded his motorcycle from the bed of his truck; that he’d lent the keys to Kid. With a hum, Killer snapped back the kickstand and rode off into the night.

“Don’t fuck it up, gearhead.”

Originally posted - soon to be archived :)

[bellatrixscurls]

i don’t know if ur into this or not, but imagine having steve lay over your lap

and you inspect his holes to make sure he wasn’t playing with himself while you were gone 😖😖

steve’s hands twitch at his sides as he sits on the bed, ass up, completely naked. kneeling behind him, you slowly reach down to scratch against his scalp, the simple gesture pulling a deep, desperate moan out of your boyfriend.

“this might be all you’re getting tonight if i find out that you’ve been playing without me” you pout mockingly, and even if you’re aware that he cannot see your face, you know damn well that he can hear it.

he goes to say something, but instead, a loud yelp leaves his pretty, plump lips - you push two of your fingers deep inside his puckered hole, and he can’t help but clench at the intrusion. “i didn’t, i promise i didn’t, my love” he gasps softly and you swear that’s the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard.

contrary to steve’s expectations, you ignore him and hum, almost satisfied. “hole’s all nice and tight. you’ve really been my good boy? not touching yourself since i left? that was last tuesday, baby.”

and mind you, it’s friday now. it’s hard to believe that steve, your steve, could go more than an entire week without touching himself, without using his favourite butt plug, the one that was so big, it made his eyes teary.

“y-yeah, honey” he whines and he’s so pathetically gorgeous, it almost makes you want to give in. almost. “only wanted your pussy, i missed you so so much.”

“and you’ll get it if your pretty cock is just as eager and untouched” you pet his hair affectionately, now moving to stand beside him, propped up on one elbow, hand supporting your head. “turn over, let me see your cock, baby.”

he turns over eagerly, and you can see the glint in his eyes. he’d devour you if he could, and you’re almost positive that that’s what he’ll be doing very soon.

his cock is painfully hard and red, pre-cum leaking from his tip and it’s almost funny the way he twitches against his stomach when your hand closes around the base. “pretty” you whisper and he groans, throwing his head back.

you use your other hand to pull him closer to you, his face now almost buried in your chest as he watches you adoringly. “i swear i didn’t touch it. i- i…” he pauses, his cheeks turning red. you look down at him, urging him to continue. “i couldn’t even get hard without you” the last words are caught in his throat when your hand starts moving, stroking his cock slowly but firmly.

“you poor thing” you pouted and this time you were being genuine. “you went through so much this week. i think it’s only fair we make up for all of the days we’ve lost, don’t you?”

[electricbluebutterflies]

things you said that I wasn’t meant to hear for Karen and Frank

Post-something / maaaaybe DDBA-compliant for now, PG-ish, and also on ao3.

After.

Oh. After.

After they get lucky, after they don’t. After Karen’s life turns into a blur, again, and she’s reminded why she never wanted to leave New York and why she wants to again. After a few too many of those last-second moments that have her questioning the possible existence of some higher power.

After, again. In a hospital room, again. Hell of a way to find out she got listed as next of kin.

The world moves on. There are other things Karen could be doing right now. There are also other people who might do all of them, whereas this…

“Why do we always end up like this?”

He’s resting, for now. Improvement. Machines beep in the background, and she’s too used to being in these spaces, the clinical not-smell that will linger on her skin when she leaves, if she leaves, if she decides against doing a third night half-asleep on a waiting-room chair. She hasn’t told anyone anything, but the assumption is she’s a girlfriend, and that plus Frank’s… reputation, to put it lightly, has turned her into a hell of a curiosity and-

They won’t talk abut this. Why would they ever talk about anything?

She assumes the paperwork got done years ago, long enough he doesn’t seem to remember doing it or maybe someone else she doesn’t know did it for him, there’s that option too. There weren’t any questions when he regained consciousness, she knows that part, how many damn times he’s woken up in a hospital bed with her in the nearest chair, her and her worried eyes and-

“Fuck, Frank. We can’t keep doing this.”

There are other things she could be doing right now. She’s not useless.

Instead, she clutches a vending-machine coffee she won’t actually drink and bought more so she’d have something in her hands, anything in her hands that isn’t the body just out of her reach.

Again. Again.

“How many more times? How much more…”

Her voice catches. Day three, and she knows the schedule here. The nurses check in every so often, but the combination of dangerous and not in danger has put Frank pretty low on the priority list, a detail Karen has decided she likes. There is, for once, no security detail for her to evade or antagonize – see, she thinks, slow progress. As it is, she’s left alone, her presence documented enough by forms she’s never seen and that is enough for her to put her entire goddamn life on hold until-

“You can’t die on me. You can’t.”

How many more times.

How many more-

Eyes flicker open – rare, this peace. Usually the shock of unpleasant nightmare, of whatever haunts him that he doesn’t speak to her. That, she’s used to. Not this. Not like-

“You mean that?”

Fuck her entire life.

There are conversations that Karen is nowhere near ready for. Anything to do with the state of her heart, for starters, especially as it relates to whatever sense of obligation justifies her current physical location or how much she’s cried in the past three days or-

“We don’t lie to each other,” she breathes.

“Not an answer, Karen.”

“How long have you been awake?”

“You’re just unfair.”

Oh, if there weren’t tubes and monitors hooked up to him, she’d pick a fight, but not like this, so imbalanced, so-

“Answer me and-“

“Long enough to know you’re more frightened than you are when anyone else can hear you.”

“Says the person who didn’t tell me he’d put me as his-“

“Didn’t think I’d need that! Space between alive and dead doesn’t cross my mind.”

You don’t fucking say, Karen thinks and won’t even mouth because she is trying to be good, she is trying and look what that’s getting her and-

“Here we are anyways.”

“What I’m hearing, you don’t mind.”

“They dragged you bleeding and half-drowned out of-“

“Could’ve signed whatever they’d ask you to sign and-“

“We both know that’s not who I am.”

It could be, she thinks sometimes. It wud be easier that way. It never will be.

She is pretty sure she has a bruised tailbone from how long she’s spent in this chair, she hasn’t seen daylight in three days, and there is nowhere ese in the world she’d rather be. This is who she is. This is what she chooses.

“Karen-“

“How many more times?” she repeats. “How many more times before you make this worth it.”

“You know why-“

“Don’t, Frank. Not here, not now.”

“You’re better than this.”

“You want me anyways.”

And now she’s gone and done it. Crossed the line, said the words they’ve done a spectacular job of avoiding all these years. Do they get to come back from this? Do they get to go back to the bullshit they are so, so good at and-

“I do. Don’t mean I think it’s a good idea, but I do.”

When she’d thought about this conversation – and she has considered it far, far too much for something she also doubted would ever happen – she never envisioned the hospital monitors. All the romance-novel cute ideas are terrible ones right now, she is only so reckless, and-

It is enough to get to her feet, to move closer, to lean down and kiss his forehead. Anywhere she’d touch would be a scar, and she feels like she should remember how he got this one, and-

“Karen?”

“Yeah?”

“You don’t have to-“

This is a bad idea, she thinks, but on the other hand putting her mouth on his may be the only way to stop him talking, so…

There is something familiar in the movement of them, in the awareness that this is as far as it goes for now. This is where they stop until whenever the hospital lets him go, until whatever happens next that – so help her – is going to happen in the apartment she wasn’t quite sure about getting before this but oh if she’s going to stay in New York this time she’s going to put down roots, she’s going to get a dog and some plants and-

The kiss is over as effortless as it starts, and there is only them, only this, only-

“If you say one damn thing about my judgment right now-“

“Didn’t think that’d ever happen.”

“That’s on you,” she breathes, almost a laugh. “I would’ve let you years ago.”

“That sure of it?”

“Completely.”

They’ll talk, maybe. They’ll pretend more of this is normal than it is. They’ll figure out, maybe a little sooner than they should, what some kind of shared life looks like.

But those are problems for later.

Right now, she takes one of his hands in both of hers, and this is where they always end up, and-

“This won’t be easy.”

“Maybe that’s why I want it.”

[pinkslipxox]

Pull Over:

Summary: car smut 😭🫶

Warnings: smut 🙈❤️😘

**this took a hot minute, hope you all enjoy**

——————————————————————————

You need her.

What doesn’t help at all right now is how good Billie looks, effortlessly beautiful and radiating a confidence that never fails to captivate you. Her raven black hair cascades down her shoulder in soft waves, catching the light and framing her face perfectly. Those pretty pink lips, full and warm, are curled into her signature smirk. The sunlight spills from the window, and it casts a warm glow over her features, highlighting the playful glimmer in her eyes and the delicate curve of her cheekbone. Every glance you steal from her sends butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

And your core.

The desire to be close to her, to feel her warm skin on yours, her lips on yours, is overwhelming. Her ring clad hand rests on your thigh, and the impure thoughts in your mind just begs for it to go up higher. Your breath hitches, her effect on you never fails to amaze you. Nor does she ever fail to deliver when it comes to you. God, you love it— and she knows it.

You’re on your way to Billie’s parents’ house to spend the afternoon there and have dinner. Just before you left, a quickie was in the works until Billie— fucking Billie— purposely pulled back and told you to be ready to leave in the next five minutes as she sauntered out of the bedroom with that goddamn smirk of hers.

“You’re a little quiet there,” Billie prompts as she quickly glances over at you, then back at the road. Her fingers dance lightly over the steering wheel. The family gathering is important, but at this moment, all you can think about is how you want her—how you need her.

“Billie,” you say softly, trying to hide the urgency in your voice. She glances at you, her piercing eyes finding yours, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of her lips. Then, much to your pleasure and relief, Billie starts to move her fingers delicately against your skin. A rush of warmth courses through your body as she applies a gentle pressure on your thigh, and you have to bite back the moan that threatens to escape your lips.

“You good there, mamas?” Billie asks, her voice soft and teasing, as she continues her gentle ministrations. She knows damn well what she does to you. You shift in your seat, trying to reposition your thoughts as your eyes wander to the way Billie’s skin glows in the sunlight. But it’s no use.

“Can you pull over for a minute?” you reply, trying to sound casual but betraying the neediness that seeps through your words. She raises an eyebrow, a playful smirk tugging at her lips, but without hesitation, she turns the car onto a quiet side road, familiar with how you get when you need her attention.

“Y/N,” Billie’s voice becomes firm yet there is a teasing lilt in it, “we can’t. My family’s waiting for us.” She says it as if she had no part in causing your frustration just a little while ago.

“Billie, please…” you whimper, not caring how needy or desperate you sound.

Billie scoffs, her eyes narrowed but the corners of her lips are curled up into a subtle smirk. “Give me one good reason why.”

“Because I need you!” you exclaim, your frustration mixing with your desires. Billie chuckles and her eyes sparkle with delight as she looks over at you, clearly entertained by your impatience.

“You’re such a needy little thing, huh?” It’s the way she says it, with that twinkle in her eye, that makes your heart flutter and your cheeks heat up.

You groan, defeated, and utterly, well, horny. “Fine! If you won’t pull over… I’ll do it myself.”

“Wait, what?“ Billie’s head instantly turns to you, her intense gaze lingering on you a little longer before she forces her attention back on the road.

You ignore her, fueled by the unignorable need and longing for touch, and slide your hand down your skirt and under your panties. Ever so slightly, you part your legs. The arousal that coats your pussy even surprises yourself. You’re aware of your girlfriend’s gaze on you as you begin to touch yourself, coaxing out soft moans and gasps as you knead your clit in slow, deliberate circular motions.

“Fuck, Y/N,” Billie huffs, tightening her grip on the steering wheel, her jaw clenched. “I can’t believe you!”

Her words go in one ear and out the other. All you can focus on is the pleasure that you’re giving yourself, although deep down you admit that it is not even near as delightful whenever Billie does it. You move your hand slowly towards your clothed breast, gently pinching and pulling them through the thin fabric of your blouse. Slowly, you tease the entrance of your aching core, and then slide your finger inside, curling the tip of your digit when you feel your spongy walls wrap around it.

“Mmm,” you moan, exaggerating the sound just to spite your girlfriend, adding another finger inside you. Your eyes flutter closed as you pump in and out, slowly, gently, savoring the pleasure coursing through your body. You apply more pressure to your hardened nipple, coaxing another vocalization that resonates inside the car.

“That’s it,” your girlfriend growls, her tone low and dangerously calm. With a quick sideways glance at the empty road ahead, Billie pulls off to the side of the road, and your heart beats in anticipation as it comes to a screeching halt.

You don’t waste any time; you fling your body to her, thighs straddling over Billie’s lap as your girlfriend instinctively grips your hips. Your mouths move together sloppily, tongues dancing and exploring with such urgency that your hearts race in tandem. You can’t help the soft moans that escape your lips as she pulls you closer, every flick of her tongue igniting flames of passion that have flickered since the moment you’ve first met each other.

Billie’s lips leave lingering kisses along the sensitive skin of your neck. Each press of her warm lips against you sends shivers cascading down your spine. She travels to your collarbone, the luxurious feel of her soft skin against yours amplifying the heat between you. As you roll your hips against the bulge of Billie’s strap. You hear Billie’s breath hitch, followed by a husky, “Goddamn” that’s like music to your ears. Your blouse and bra are taken off in the midst of Billie’s ministrations, and Billie cups one of your breasts with her hand as her lips travel further down.

“More… Billie, more…” you urge softly, a gasp escaping as she finds your breasts, her kisses lingering there, igniting your senses. You moan softly, the sound echoing in the stillness of the vehicle, a melody of passion and intimacy.

“Backseat. Now,” Billie instructs— no, demands— and somehow, the two of you find yourselves slithering to the back, hands roaming each other’s curves, lips clashing together, gasps and moans echoing in perfect harmony.

The remaining clothing between you and Billie is quickly discarded— save for Billie’s boxers— as the passion, desire intensifies, each touch more fervent and daring. You lay back, Billie’s warm body pressed against yours, the ache between your legs becoming unbearable. Billie takes her sweet time kissing down your stomach, then your hips, and your inner thighs. Her breath is hot against your skin, and a shiver goes down your spine when you feel her tongue swipe gently over the spot where she's kissed. She gets close and close to where you need her the most, and just when you think she’s about to give you what you need, she purposefully moves to kiss another spot that leaves you squirming underneath.

“Billie… please…. I need you,” you whimper, and you feel her smirk against your skin. All you can do is pray that she doesn’t stop.

As if to answer your prayer, Billie’s head dips down between your legs, and a cry of pleasure escapes your lips as Billie licks a slow stripe upwards, then pressing her tongue flat against your clit. Her tongue moves with expert precision, her nose pressed against your pubic bone, coaxing out the gasps and moans that seem to urge her on. It feels and it sounds wet, and you can’t get enough of it. You reach down, gently twisting and pulling her hair, and her tongue flicks faster. And she begins to suck. She sucks and she sucks and she sucks.

Your back arches in response, hand tightening around Billie’s neck, and she groans. The vibrations make you shiver, and you are so fucking close that you swear that your soul could leave your body. All you can think, breathe, feel is Billie.

“Billie, yes!” you cry out, legs shaking, vision blurring, and all you can do is surrender.

“We’re not done yet,” Billie’s tone leaves no room for protests.

Not that you mind.

In one, swift motion, Billie removes her boxers to reveal her strap. Your breath hitches at the sight of it and you feel your pussy throb with anticipation. Her eyes never leave yours as she positions herself on top of you again. She’s gentle as she slips inside you, making you gasp sharply, and at your nod of approval, Billie begins to thrust. You wrap your legs around her waist, urging her on, and your head spins at how deep you feel her inside you.

“Good girl,” Billie praises, her voice husky and thick with desire, her nails digging into your soft skin. She moves faster, each stroke more pleasurable than the last. “Taking me so well. You just couldn’t wait until we got to my parents house, babe?”

She slaps your ass, hard.You let out another moan in response, hips rocking instinctively as Billie moves, but your girlfriend is quick to hold you in place. Then, in a blink of an eye, you find yourself on top of Billie. A guttural moan escapes your lips as the strap hits that spot just right, and you toss your head back in pleasure. Billie’s done this before, spontaneously switching positions in the moment, and needless to say, you absolutely love it.

“Billie…” you gasp, lost in the sensation, your heart racing. Billie’s hands roam, gripping your waist, pulling you deeper, closer, as if desperately trying to merge your souls. You can’t help but wrap your arms around her neck, pulling her in closer, needing to feel every heartbeat aligned with yours. The world outside fades completely; it’s just you, her, and the energy pulsating between your bodies.

“Atta girl,” Billie coos, her voice low and sultry, her lips pressing gently over your collarbone. “Just like that, baby.”

The car rocks gently as you lose yourselves further into each other, ecstasy coursing through your body in ripples. When she finally pulls you over the edge, it’s a powerful release, a moment where everything else fades away, leaving only the undeniable connection between the two of you. Billie rides the orgasm with you, and when it’s over, you fall on top of her, breathless and content, as Billie cradles you in her arms. Her fingers brush soothingly over your hair, your body still tingling from the aftershocks.

“That… was amazing,” you breath, utterly satisfied and spent, and Billie chuckles.

“You drive me crazy, Y/N,” she murmurs, her voice now soft and teasing. She presses her lips on your forehead, letting them linger there for a moment, before she adds in a soft whisper, “And I love you. So much.”

You giggle. “I love you, too, Bills.”

Then realization hits you— the family gathering.

“Billie!” you gasp, sitting up, and you let out a soft whimper as you realize that she’s still inside you. “Your parents! W-we’re late.”

“Better late than never,” Billie laughs, the mischievous glint in her eyes returning, and you playfully smack her arm.

“But we can’t show up looking and smelling like sex!” you stress, your cheeks flushing not just from the intimacy but out of embarrassment. “Finneas would never let it go.”

“Then I guess we’ll just have to go back home and wash up.” Billie smirks, and to your surprise and pleasure, she buckles her hips up, making you gasp. The fire inside you reignites, and you get the feeling that you won’t be making it to the family gathering anytime soon.

“Just one more round, first.”

[that-tmr-girl]

Thomas Smut Imagine

Thomas seemed to never stop almost dying so by now his pain tolerance was pretty well

He also for some reason assume that affected how ticklish he was. It was probably because those were both uncontrollable physical feelings (it made sense at the time)

He was wrong

Really, really wrong

You tended to either hold his waist which meant your fingertips brushed against him or his shoulder, which was right by his neck, the most ticklish spot on him

He could never say no to you on top of him

Usually he would mentally prepare ahead of time for the other feeling you gave him

Since he didn't he was completely caught off guard when your hands moved a little too quickly by the side of his neck, making him ker out an involuntary laugh that he managed to disguise as a man

You didn't pick up on it, too busy riding him

You started to notice him squirming under you though, making you force your eyes from the back of your head to him

He was biting his lip while breathing heavily

Still, small sounds escaped him, and not the kind you excepted to hear

Having a pretty good guess what it was, you purposely tickled his neck for just a second

That second was all it took for him to let out a louder laugh though before he firmly clapped his hands over his mouth

It was too late though. Something he definitely knew by your amused smirk

"I didn't know it felt that kind of good,"You gladly teased, making his face turn bright red

"I didn't think it would either,"He weakly defended, breathing heavier as you stopped

Pretending not to notice, you kept taunting while keeping your hands in that same spot, threatening to make him react again with the slightest movement. He stayed as still as he could to avoid it

But with how hard and desperate he was, he still found himself starting to thrust his hips into you

You kept going, partly for his pleasure and partly because of how damn good he felt

Not that it would stop you from pulling that trick again in the very near future

[kookie-krumbss]

motion granted 07 : mr I fucked up

pairing : closer jungkook x corporate lawyer reader /// hard exterior jungkook x reader who brings jungkook out of his shell

genre : fluff & smut

synopsis : you began to develop a friendship with

the snarky closer in the corner office. he holds the title of being 'arrogant', 'self-absorbed', and being 'too smart for his own good', but the more you hang out with him; the mroe you began to think those titles are half-wrong.

taglist status : open

.masterlist

song reccomendation : smart girl by aaron durr

The dialogue between Harvey and Donna hasn't stopped since Jungkook arrived soaking wet at your apartment. He totally ruined your doormat, just like he ruined your goddamn life by being a co-lawyer in your case.

You mindlessly watch "Suits" as you wait for Jungkook to come back from taking a shower. You wonder what he must have done for Kent to practically fire him on the spot. From what you knew, Kent seemed like a decent guy. He's grumpy but definitely not the type to lose his cool. But with Jungkook being the point of conversation, you're not suprised he went ape shit crazy on him. A part of you thinks his cocky ass might have deserved it.

At sound of a click, you hear Jungkook walk out of the bathroom. You turn your head around to glance at him. Jungkook walks out with his hair fully wet and waist is wrapped with your Miffy towel as his chiseled abs peak through the fabric. The juxtaposition makes you let out an internal laugh.

"Hey Y/N, you got any spare clothes".

Right. Clothes. He needs some.

You whisper a faint "yea", before rushing to your guest bedroom. Hearing Jungkook's voice echoing in the background as you sort through you brothers old clothes he left when he visited you a few months back ."I'm a grown man, please get me something without some goddamn cartoons on it"

You let out a chuckle, deciding to save him the embarassment and getting a white shirt and grey sweatpants.

You toss it to him and he walks back into the bathroom, appearing in front of your eyes within seconds wearing the shirt and pants effortlessly.

"Thought you didn't have a boyfriend?" he questions wondering if he's wearing your boyfriend's clothes, his eyebrow arches as he aggressively rubs the Miffy towel back and forth on his head.

"Jungkook, these are my brother" you state in a monotone baritone. Bold of him to think you would let a guy sleepover at your place.

"Oh?" He says, his eyebrows fixed in its lifted position.

"Yea he came back from Stanford and stayed with me for the break"

Jungkook lets out a hum. He's nervous you can tell, his fingers are slightly jittery. He knows this small talk won't engage you longer and he's got to get to the point eventually.

"Enough about my brother... you going to tell me what happened with Kent?"

He takes a breath before uttering his words. "He saw right through my bluff. He said that there's no way he's going to merge with Hart because their costs of production are too high and he's scared their profits are going to go down the drain"

Damn. He saw right through? Despite you not liking the concept of a bluff. You did think Jungkook's was pretty decent. Quite good actually.

The gears in your brain shift, your eyebrows are pinched as you try and think of a solution. All Jungkok can do is monitor your expressions. After sometime, you have a light bulb moment.

"Then how about we make the deal so goddamn good we don't have to force him to merge, but he'll beg us to merge"

Frustated with your statement, his jittery fingers tug on his hair at the anticipation , "What are you getting at Y/N?"

"Jungkook, all we need to do is give Kent 60% of the company so he holds majority control. Then, we get Hart to secure their assets as collateral. This way, if Kent decides to merge, he’ll have access to both their factories. And in the worst-case scenario, even if there are losses, he still walks away with a factory. Its a win-win for him."

For a second Jungkook grasps your shoulders, digging the tops on his fingers deep into your skin.. shaking you. "Y/N that's such a great idea! Oh my god, no ways he's going to let go of this merger"

A chelsea smile spreads across your face. The best closer just said your idea was great. But you can't let him fucking fly yet, you pull him to the ground with your statement.

"Hold on Mr. I fucked up, we may have found a solution. But we still need to write this brief and that's going to forever. So I wouldn't start breaking out into a song and dance just yet"

Despite your insult, Jungkooks shoulder and head stays up; He's just glad you found a solution and you can see it on his face.

He still replies with a smirk on his face "That's funny because I have the voice of an angel, too bad you won't be serenaded with it"

Unexpectedly, the clapback causes butterflies to be released in your stomach. Your glad he's back to being his cocky self again.

Author Notes

Super sorry for the delay in uploading this chapter everyone. But I did write a bonus chapter which I will release soon, so stay tuned!

Taglist : @minimoninini | @canarystwin | @minniejim | @vantelover1306 | @guwol

[weirdlyfitting]

A little silly thought, I interpret brooklynn's green side of hair dye as how much she has been corrupted (by diving too deep into the whole broker situation).

As the chaos theory started out, we're given little hints about her appearance through the campers' flashbacks, and it was known that she had been investigating for a while and ended her relationship with kenji before she was found dead. The green dye during the flashback scenes and s2 ep 3 (as we're finally getting a full explanation of how she survived) took almost half of her pinkish-purple hair, which is in a pretty worrying state tbh, almost half the full story, almost getting half of the chaos *ba dum tchhh

Right so, after she lost her arm and everything, she made a final decision to continue the investigation and took a deep dive into the bottom of it. And with that stuff in mind, her hair is now fully dyed green, symbolizing how there's no turning back as she's fully corrupted. Another thing to add is that her pinkish-purple color made up a perfect (or almost, depends on what color wheel that showed the color line-up, but I found this one a lot and damn bro, it fits) complementary color with green/light green.

I'd love to mention that there's a little canon hint of meaning explanation for her pinkish-purple hair, and it's actually an accident lmao, and this probably means that it was her intention from the start to dye it fully green. BUT I still saw it as a cool subtle visual hint so that the audience can have their own interpretation, like this :3 because y'know what's more interesting about that scene itself? The follow-up right after that "purple dye accident" joke from yaz. The literal gut-wrenching IRONY when sammy said "Let me guess? You're LEAVING US AGAIN?" and darius followed with "ABANDON US WOULD'CHA??". Maybe in a way, this purple dye DOES symbolize Brooklynn's change. The usual bright pink color started to dim out as purple and slowly inverted to green the deeper she went into this rabbit hole.

This one is just me bragging things up lol, as it seems that yaz was the only one who knew about her purple hairdye accident. It subtly adds another depth to brooklynn's reckless behavior of making a morally good change and yet sacrificing herself fully on the matter, because when she's with her camp fam they'd be ready to back her up and she would end up being safe (ex in s3 of cc where she got captured by dr wu). In a way, that purple dye could represent that she's still got her friends to slow her down and think more about her safety, when the green dye represents her fully alone and making decisions her friends can not interfere.

Something else I associated with death and the color green, is how it could be represented as a living dead or zombie (yes, I'm referencing plants vs zombies and yes, hear me out lmfaoooo). To the n5's perspective, the last time they remembered brooklynn was when she was still having that side of purple dye, as if she's still alive (though slowly infected), and then suddenly they met again with her when her hair was fully green, at first the n5 thought that she's still alive but then throughout the ending, she made sure (though that was only an act) that who they're seeing is truly dead, it was only the corpse that wonders around and became their enemy instead

anddd that's all, don't take this one seriously i just wanna yap about brooklynn's hair after i saw this analysis lmaoaoaooao (check it out pls it's cool!!)

[thedeafprophet]

At long last, I have finished my pixel art attempt of the six seven fanarts challenge~

This was a really fun practice of converting various designs into pixel format, it was a good challenge especially that hat

Individual drawings and tagging who suggested who under the cut!

Furnace suggested by @yoshicolonoscopyfootageofficial

Tatterdemalion suggested by @the-golliest-gee-williker

Hephaesta suggest by @the-dye-stained-socialite

The Youthful Naturalist suggested by the-golliest-gee-williker [again lol]

January suggested by @house-of-mirrors

[and ill be honest i did TRY to do the mask but it was not. working. so i gave up lmao]

The Bohemian Sculptress suggested by @press-f-to-rat

Mr Stones suggested by @bizarrebazaar13

Also if anyone wants the sprite images at their original size for whatever reasons, feel free to ask~

[moth-flowers]

moth-flowers #21

[feroluce]

Belobog was my fave main quest but a lot of it is so. Contradictory. It's like they had multiple groups doing different shit and none of them checked in with each other for consistency. And you see this so much in Gepard's profile.

So in the main quest, they made him unfailingly, unquestionably loyal to Cocolia. Gepard's character arc is him learning to question authority etc etc. And this isn't even a bad thing; that's a story worth telling! It makes good conflict between him and Serval! And I love that we got Gepard as a boss battle and I get to see him all the time in SU!

But then you look at his character stories and it's like. The complete opposite.

According to his profile, Gepard has already HAD this awakening, long before the Astral Express, and he'd already decided Cocolia sucks. Even outside of his stories, there's a pretty damning readable between him and Pela.

He even disobeyed direct orders right in front of her- he has been disobeying orders for a while now!

So I've decided I'm marrying the two different sides of this into a 1.5k fic-ish thingy, because I think there's some fun potential there with Gepard not trusting Cocolia, but still having to pretend to be a good obedient little soldier.

Anyway. I love to think of it as like. Gepard knows Cocolia has sunk into her apathy. He can see it in her eyes every time he looks at her. She doesn't care. Not about him, not about Pela, not about all his soldiers on the frontlines giving their lives to protect the citizens. And that's... It makes him bristle a bit, but ok. Gepard can deal with this. Even if Cocolia no longer cares, as long as she does her job then it's fine. Having compassion behind an action doesn't matter as much as the action itself. If Cocolia's heart is no longer swayed, then he'll just have to care twice as hard to pick up the slack. He considers it part of his duty as a captain of the guard anyway. It's fine. Gepard can deal with it.

And then, Cocolia starts coming down to the restricted zone. Issuing direct orders.

And Gepard realizes he is in way over his head.

Because Cocolia orders him to stay back and issue commands from the ramparts, away from all his comrades, away from where he can protect them.

Gepard had thought nothing could be as bad as watching a fellow guard die right next to him. But the first time he watches someone struck by a killing blow, so far away, it hurts. Every defensive scar across his arms itches, his fingers curl in want of a weapon, the cold cannot numb his hands enough as they desperately ache for his shield. It hurts.

Gepard tries to find any reason to stay. Because surely... He knows Cocolia has lost her love for her people, but surely... She wouldn't...

One day, Cocolia orders for their gunners to advance 20 yards. There are no survivors. She almost looks like she smiles.

Gepard doesn't sleep that night.

Pela brings him the report at the end of the first month; and then the month after that, and the month after that. A significant uptick in losses, and all of it started on that first day Cocolia started overriding his authority and issuing her own orders. The ends of Gepard's pens have all been nearly chewed off. Pela outright calls Cocolia an idiot, and Gepard corrects her. Cocolia isn't an idiot. Gepard had known her through Serval, knew her through all her college years and then some, and he knows how intelligent she is. It's not that she's stupid, and it's not that she's inexperienced, it's nothing of the sort.

Cocolia knows exactly what she's doing.

She must, there's no way she could make such a horrible mess of things so badly by accident. And Pela, quick as a whip, sharp as a tack, always too smart for her own good, catches onto the meaning behind Gepard's correction without any further prompting. The tent goes deathly quiet, nothing but the wind howling outside.

"...She's trying to kill us," Pela whispers, her voice swiftly suffocated by the silence.

Gepard swallows. He can't bring himself to correct her this time. There is nothing he could say that he would actually mean.

His gaze drops, back down to his desk and the reports on it. The names aren't listed, just the numbers, but Gepard knows them, knew them, and there must be something wrong, something he's missing, because why, why would she-? What could this possibly accomplish-?

“Gepard! Focus!” Something snaps right under his nose, and Gepard startles, eyes instantly honing in on Pela's irritated face as she leans over his desk. She holds his gaze for a moment before she huffs and begins to pace, wedges a knuckle between her teeth and bites like Gepard hasn't seen her do since cadet school.

Pela angrily strides from one end of his tent to the other, words hissed between her grit teeth. “What are we going to do?” In the dim lighting, Gepard can just barely see the damp spot of blood weeping under her gloves. “We need a plan.”

“A plan?”

“Wh- Yes, a plan! Unless you want more people to die!” Pela rounds on him then, all the wrath of a blizzard, winds roaring and snow sharp enough to cut.

“We don't even know-”

“What does it matter?! She killed-!!” Pela cuts off with a garbled noise when Gepard leaps up from his desk, hastily shoves his hand over her mouth. The prosthetic, not the flesh one, because he knows better than to assume Pela won't seize the opportunity to leave teeth marks in his skin.

“You're right. I'm sorry, I'm sorry; you're right. But you need to keep quiet.” Pela quirks an eyebrow at him and Gepard can read the question in her face. “Because we both saw what she did to Serval,” he hisses.

It's amazing the snow plains haven't thawed out yet, the amount of heat Pela can put behind a glare. The mere mention of Serval, and the smoking ruins Cocolia had made of her life and career, have her bristling up like a riled cat. The sudden hot breath she takes fans fog across his metal skin, and Gepard wisely keeps it in place until Pela finally sighs and reaches up, taps her fingertips against the back of his hand.

The second she's free, Pela bats him away and then her knuckle is right back between her teeth again, Gepard leaning back against his desk with his arms crossed to watch her resume her pacing. “If we spread the word, she'll have us discharged and make sure we can't even touch the frontlines,” Pela's voice seethes like an open sore. Gepard nods but keeps his silence. He knows better than to get in her way.

“And if you and I are both out of the picture, Belobog is fucked.” A little harsher than how he would have put it, but there's no denying that they're both important to the city's survival. Pela has the restricted zone running as efficiently as ever, and Gepard had become the youngest captain on record for a reason. “We need to keep this tight under wraps, at least for now… It can't leak to anyone higher up the chain.” Another nod. “Serval might know other discontents…” Another n-

Gepard's head snaps up. “No.”

“No what?”

“No. We're not involving Serval in this.”

Somehow, even the same tone that leaves entire squadrons shaking in their boots has never worked on her. “You're not deciding that for her, Gepard.”

Pela hadn't seen the worst of it, though, back when his sister had just been banned from the Architects. Serval's pride hadn't allowed it. Pela wasn't the one to find her passed out bottle still in hand, hadn't been the one to wash the sick out of her hair or carry her to bed. 

Serval still has trouble thinking clearly when it comes to Cocolia, still can't quite bring herself to be objective. And Gepard maybe doesn't want her to be purely objective- but he would worry a lot less if she thought twice before she acted more often.

“At least let me be the one to bring it up to her.”

“Whatever, fine,” Pela gestures affirmatively at him as she paces past, and Gepard sighs. Good, at least that's one thing he can help.

From there, it's a lot of hemming and hawing and frustration. Cocolia has them under her boot, and Gepard and Pela both know it. Even with the way she's been cracking down on freedoms lately, Cocolia is still, overall, liked by the people. It's unlikely anyone would believe them. They don't even have solid proof, because most people don't know Cocolia as well as they do and won't see the clues in the same light. 

The Fragmentum has been ramping up in recent years, too. Everyone is struggling just to survive as is, they can't afford a fight on two fronts. Gepard is a damn good captain, one of the best for that matter. But they're at a massive disadvantage, his experience is narrowed to fighting a defensive battle against monsters, that's all he's ever done. That's all anyone there has ever done. He has no way of finding first-hand knowledge for taking the offensive against a human opponent, and if he goes at this blind, there's no way he'll get everyone out unscathed. He's going to lose people. He's going to lose a lot of people.

He'd never thought before that Cocolia would have it in her to have someone killed. And with this new knowledge, he has no guarantee she won't go after Serval or Lynx if she decides to retaliate.

Gepard has to remind himself to breathe when he realizes this.

Pela writes down every name the two of them can come up with. Lists and lists of names and groups and anyone they can think of who might be an ally in all of this. They memorize every bit of it, make their plans of who to talk to and when. Gepard watches the sparks reflect off Pela's glasses as they burn the evidence together.

Pela finally leaves, far too late to make it home, but says she wants to stay in the restricted zone anyway to investigate. Gepard watches her make her way in the direction of Dunn's tent, watches her back until she's out of his sight and squashes down the urge to follow and keep an eye on her. His tent feels empty.

In the morning, Gepard is up before the wake up bells. He drags himself out of bed, leads his soldiers through their morning training. The same people gravitate to each other everyday. Friend groups and training partners. There's an ongoing rivalry between a few squadrons that everyone bets on. Some of them have lockets around their necks, keepsakes, mementos. Some of them wear wedding rings.

Gepard is suddenly, painfully aware of something acidic clawing at the inside of his throat, of a heavy weight low in his chest that blooms, takes up room until it threatens to spread his ribs. His mouth tastes of bile and blood.

He rearranges the schedules. Puts himself down for every open patrol into the Fragmentum, makes sure he'll be on the frontlines every single time Cocolia visits.

He only hopes that it's enough.