#idk still workin on that part

[mochasucculent]

POV you're a weird bug

[muttsandmustelidae]

i feel like the way ‘dogtok’/‘dogstagram’ talks about reactivity makes reactive dog owners feel a lot more ashamed than they ought to

[sen-ya]

do you have X/Twitter or something else where you post your comics and doodles?

I do not! I’m accidentally averse to social media these days. I used to use instagram but fell off of it at least 6 months ago 🙈 I know there’s Good Shit on twitter but I’ve never used it and I am………..lazy I am sorry

[gurorori]

i say this with utmost seriousness i wish i was employed

[spotsupstuff]

Would you ever make a comic series based off your rainworld au or anything else?

i mean i already am doin comics on it and stuff, i don't know if i'd like to like... try to stick to a strict timeline when it comes to making them. i like the looseness (/lack of commitment) that comes with making what comics i want to make whenever i like or as prompted by a question

[rafey-baby]

clumsy!reader is still bad at yoga and yoga instructor!rafe wants to keep her all to himself...

18+ mdni!

c/w: rafe being touchy & blatantly flirting w her, him getting jealous, slightly suggestive, reader being oblivious

wc: 1.9k

idk if anyone missed him but he's back & better than ever !! (after a small vacation that ended up being almost 3 months :D)

some parts are more or less inspired by this, this, this & this ask

part 1

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Rafe is in the midst of helping someone fix their posture when he hears the gates of heaven opening in the form of a melodious giggle chiming from the back of the room. He lifts his head in order to detect the source of such a vibrant sound; noticing that his favorite client is currently directing her attention towards some guy next to her.  

The joyful expression she’s sporting makes a scowl paint over his features. Why is this random man making her laugh like that?  

“Yeah, you got it. Just keep workin’ on it though,” he quickly dismisses the person he was helping before stomping over to find her practically lying on the floor with the guy’s hands on her calf, along with his mat pulled far too close to hers for Rafe’s liking.   

“I think you should bend it more here, right? I’m honestly not too sure,” the guy chuckles as he tries to figure out what she’s doing wrong.  

“No cause I have no idea how everyone else makes it seem so easy. It’s so hard to get it right, I feel so stupid half the time,” she complains with a huff, not even noticing Rafe looming within earshot.  

“Seriously, I thought this was a beginner’s class but it feels like some of these poses are meant for like literal pros,” he continues with a shake of his head. 

“I know, right?” another peal of laughter bubbles from her throat as she shifts into a seated position, giving up altogether.  

“Everything alright?” Rafe doesn’t mean for his tone to come out so clipped but there’s something in the way the guy’s touching her so freely that makes his hands curl into fists. 

He keeps reminding himself over and over again that this is a client, which means that he can’t just smash his face in— no matter how severely his fingers are itching for it right about now.  

“Oh, I was just trying to help her with this,” the guy explains in tandem with her head turning to look at Rafe. She seems startled.  

“Well, why don’t you focus on your own form for a change? I mean, s’kinda my job to help her, yeah?” he scoffs, making the guy halt his movements in a state of surprise before he's lifting his hands up in apology.  

“Damn, sorry dude,” he mutters out from under his breath while Rafe merely glares at him with the words stay professional bouncing around his skull.  

A tense silence follows, making her grow quiet while she takes slow sips from her water bottle as a distraction; wondering why he seems so bothered to see her talking to someone else.  

However, when he finally turns his attention towards her, she shrugs it off as him merely having a bad day because it seems like the only logical explanation to her. Because at the end of the day, him being jealous makes as much sense to her as her math homework in high school.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Rafe is convinced that the universe is purposefully trying to poke and prod at his limits, giving his carefully curated facade opportunities to crack— allowing for the borderline psychotic aspects of his personality to breathe through the crevices. Because only a week later, Rafe sees her entering the gym with another guy she seems to be awfully friendly with. 

“That’s crazy, I don’t even wanna know what Kie said to that,” she rolls her eyes jokingly while he’s showing her something on his phone.  

”Yeeeah, guess you could say she wasn’t the biggest fan,” he laughs in a carefree manner, raking a hand through his disheveled, sand-colored hair.  

“For some reason I’m not surprised,” she mutters out before she notices Rafe standing in the hallway leading to the yoga class. “Oh, gotta go so I’m not late. See you after?” 

“Yeah, I’ll be here. Think Pope said he’s gonna join me for leg day, so we’ll see if I’m still standing when you get back. But you have fun,” he offers her a wave before walking away towards the locker rooms. 

And at last, her warm eyes meet Rafe’s. “Hi,” her voice is soft, nearly shy; a stark contrast to her demeanor only a few seconds ago.  

“Hey,” he greets her in a casual manner, although his mind is somewhere else entirely. “So, that your boyfriend or?” he tries to approach the subject with nonchalance because it’s not necessarily any of his business.  

He’s not even sure why he’s asking— keeps telling himself that he’s just curious and tries to appear friendly by making small talk. After all, some clients have given him feedback on his apparently intimidating aura, claiming they don’t always have the courage to ask for his help because they get anxious he’ll judge them. Therefore, it's something he’s been trying to work on.  

“What? Oh, JJ? No, he’s just a friend. He goes to the gym here, so I usually just tag along with him. Free ride, right?” she answers with a lighthearted tone.  

“Right. Yeah,” he scratches at the back of his neck, contemplating whether or not to ask the next question since he doesn’t want to overstep any boundaries. However, there’s something deep in his stomach that grumbles at the prospect of her being in a relationship, makes him feel nearly insane and ultimately, makes the decision for him. 

“You, uh, you got one?”  

“What?” she asks, features coated in confusion. 

“A boyfriend, I mean,” his gaze is unwavering, eager.  

“Oh, um— no, I don’t. Why?” her puzzled eyes flit over the lines of his countenance, seemingly trying to grasp onto his motives. 

“Just, uh…wondering. I mean, he’d be kind of a dick if he’s not drivin’ you here himself,” he shrugs, a strange sort of relief making his shoulders feather-light when she lets out an airy giggle in response.  

“Yeah, honestly sometimes wish I had one just so he could drive me around and stuff,” she jokes while they begin to pad over to the class. 

“You don’t have your license yet?” he raises his brows in surprise.  

“No, I do. I just don’t really like driving. I don’t know why but it’s so stressful to me. Usually try to avoid it as much as I can,” she elaborates while gathering her hair away from her face and securing the strands into a ponytail.   

“Oh yeah? Well, if you ever need a ride home just let me know, alright?” he says, fighting the urge to tuck a loose tendril that has managed to escape the restraints of her hair tie back behind her ear.  

“Really? That’s so sweet of you! But, um, wouldn’t wanna be a bother,” the hesitation is present in her voice.  

“Nah, couldn’t bother me if you tried,” he promises, wishing they could talk for longer. However, the ocean of people flooding inside the room behind them cuts their conversation short.  

“You’re just saying that,” she dismisses him with a playful scoff. 

“M’being for real. You’re my favorite face around here. Plus, makes my job more fun when you’re always stumblin' on your feet,” he can’t help his mouth from twisting upwards at the way her eyes round out in response to his words. 

“Shut up. I’m gonna go set down my mat now, before there’s only space right in front of you,” she offers him a giddy smile that makes him grin like an idiot. Then, she’s tiptoeing away from him in order to locate a vacant spot. 

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

Rafe has become awfully familiar with these newfound feelings of fondness for the girl who’s by far the most helpless little bambi he’s ever encountered. He thinks she should honestly pick another hobby at this point, because maybe yoga just isn’t meant for her. However, he’d never say any of that out loud because even the thought of not seeing her getting all flustered while she loses her balance whenever he’s near makes him feel physically unwell.  

He’s not entirely sure whether her apparently oblivious brain simply hasn’t caught onto the fact that he so clearly has a thing for her, or if she’s well aware and merely chooses to be a tease about it. Nonetheless, the moment she walked into the class today, he could feel his workout shorts tightening and all she’d offered him was a simple smile.  

And now she’s right in front of him, all tangled limbs and pretty eyes blinking up at him— practically begging for his guidance and for him to put his hands all over her (something she doesn’t seem to mind all that much).  

“You put this cute little set on just for me, huh?” he rasps out while his thumb smooths over the bubblegum pink fabric; feeling it out as he pinches the stretchy fabric between his fingertips, making her breath get caught in her throat in the process.  

“Oh, um— just wanted to…try out some new stuff I ordered. You think it’s cute?” she stares at him with something bashful glimmering in her eyes. 

“Mhm. Fits you nice,” he mumbles out as his gaze lingers on the way the tight material wraps around her figure, not leaving much to the (his) imagination. He bets it’d be so easy to just rip right through these cute yoga pants and pull her closer with a firm grip on her hips before burying his face between her plush thighs.

“Thanks,” she peeps out, flustered.  

He tries to shake off the improper, filthy thoughts with a clear of his throat when he gets caught staring at her for a little too long.  

“So, you actually wanna bend your leg on the other side of your body on the mat and support your foot with your left arm not the right one. Easy to get them confused,” he chuckles as she shifts her position according to his instructions as best as she can. 

“Like this?” she seeks reassurance with a soft tone.  

“Yeah, just like that, Bambi. Good job,” his mouth quirks up some while her mind begins to cloud over in response to his low cadence. She’s not entirely sure what exactly it is about him that makes her feel so fuzzy on the inside, but she thinks it’s nice, thinks she wants to always have him this close to her— wants him even closer.

She doesn’t remember the last time she’s had such an intense crush on someone— slowly turning into a crazy person by each second of not knowing whether he’s merely flirting with her for his own amusement or because he’s actually into her. However, she thinks she’s embarrassed herself in front of him far too many times for the latter to be true in any reality.  

“Then need you to move your right hand here,” he adjusts her form with a grip on her wrist while he maneuvers her to his liking; tingles erupting all over the skin he skims over with his fingertips.  

Her head is spinning.  

“See? Knew you could do it. Feels nice, hm?” he rumbles out, letting his hands rest on her shoulders for support, despite the position not really requiring it.  

She hums her response because she doesn’t trust for any coherent words to stumble out of her mouth at the moment, all the while Rafe is desperately trying to not pay attention to the nearly painful situation in his pants.

[witchywcmans]

AGAINST THE LAW. | KEN RYUGUJI

synopsis ━━ after one too many trips to the auto repair shop with your old car, you realize you can focus on your work tasks so much better in the waiting room. but when the head mechanic notices you've been loitering, you recognize him instantly: ken ryuguji. there’s zero chance you’re getting out of this one. (older!draken x f!reader.)

content warnings ━━ missionary position on a motorcycle (hey, this is fiction), cunnilingus + fingering, praise, semi-public sex, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, pet names (i.e. cherry), mentions loss of virginity in the past, mutual pining, au as helllll, draken is in his late 20s and a mechanic. nsfw (minors + ageless blogs dni).

word count ━━ 5.2k

song inspiration ━━ one for the road, arctic monkeys / one of the girls, the weeknd / fallen star, the neighbourhood

author's note ━━ ok off the bat, I just wanna say this fic was completely inspired by this movie called wait with me. my friends and I like to watch passionflix movies for the laughs, but this one wasn't. well horrible. if you watch it, don't expect oscar-worthy performances, but it was fun and stupid and yeah, it made me think about what if part of this concept was applied to draken when he was older, workin as a mechanic. idk. I'm not caught up on the manga whatsoever so take this as a major au lol

Your car was a piece of shit, but that wasn’t the only reason you ended up sitting in the waiting room at the mechanic’s more than usual. A police officer would call it loitering. You, on the other hand, called it a safe space. For the past couple of weeks, your car had been in and out of the shop due to a faulty ignition sensor that your mechanic couldn’t nail down until your car broke down on the side of the highway. For the third time. Needless to say, it had been a stressful past month. The car issues had been one thing, but then there was all the pressure at work. And for some reason, you began to find comfort in working at the mechanic’s waiting room.

Your work as a journalist was very important to you. A perfectionist at heart, you needed to be in the right zone, the right state of mind, to write. Unfortunately, you weren’t someone who could sit at your desk at home for hours, typing away at the speed of light, and you definitely couldn’t focus at a coffee shop. You tried a plethora of other places. The local park: your laptop died. The library: teenagers still whispered too loud even in the quietest of places. The McDonald's parking lot: you got distracted by your hunger. Nowhere was right … until you were forced to work from your mechanic’s waiting room while he worked on your car. 

Even when your mechanic figured out the issue, you couldn’t help but sneak in through the entrance late mornings and work on your articles. The waiting room was just so … quiet, even more quiet than a library. There was hardly anyone in there besides the retired folk who could wait all day for their car to be fixed. You had a coffee machine at your disposable – not good coffee, but good enough – and a selection of snacks from the vending machine. It was pure bliss. You liked to hole yourself up in the corner, picking out different outfits that would conceal your face enough, and type away until the sun began to set. No one said a word to you. No one batted an eye.

So, as you can see, it was a surprise to you when someone eventually approached you two months into your loitering scheme.

It was just about closing time and you were shoving your laptop in your backpack after sending off another draft to your editor. A pair of feet appeared in front of your chair, and when you looked up at the young mechanic chewing on the end of a toothpick, you knew you were fucked. 

“Toyota,” he said without missing a beat, knowing your car from the top of his head, “ignition sensor, right?”

You paused, sliding on your backpack. Could you make a break for it? “Um … correct.”

“That was fixed weeks ago,” he said, slapping a dirty rag on his shoulder, car keys dangling from the other hand. 

Your mouth went completely dry. How the fuck could you explain this without coming off as a total weirdo? Your hands gripped the straps of your backpack for dear life. This was so embarrassing.

Before you could reply, the young mechanic gestured to the back door with his chin. “Follow me,” he said. “Boss wants to talk to ‘ya.”

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Still fiddling with your backpack straps, you knew there was no choice but to follow this guy. He led you through the back door and into the main workshop area of the shop. There were some cars left on a few lifts, ready to be inspected tomorrow, and the shelves packed with parts seemed to be in disarray. Besides that, there was no one in here but you, the young mechanic, and whoever this “boss” was still working in the back of the shop. You had never met the owner of the shop before; you typically worked with your mechanic and no one else.

You took down the hood that you’d been wearing today. There was no use in hiding your face now.

“Here she is, boss,” the man beside you said, still twirling those keys. “Can I go home now?”

“Yeah, yeah,” the boss replied, hidden behind the huge motorcycle he was working on. “Good work today.”

The younger man left, the bell above the office door jingling, and now it was just two: you and this so-called boss you’d never met. You stood there in silence, hands fidgeting with anxiety, as you waited for the boss to say something. From behind the motorcycle, all you could see was a flash of blonde hair and smoke puffing out into the dingy air. It smelled like motor oil and cigarettes back here.

You lifted your foot – maybe it was time to try and sprint out – but then a deep voice entered the work space.

“You know that loitering is against the law, right?”

That voice … it was familiar, but you couldn’t put a pin on it. And then, the boss was standing up, and you saw the tuft of blonde hair slicked back, the shaved sides on his head. That infamous dragon tattoo still on his left temple. The little hoop on his left ear was accompanied by a few other small piercings. He was still the same height – over six feet – but had grown some muscle. His hands were calloused from all those years of fighting, and now, from heavy labor. And those eyes … they were still as stormy and dark as the first day you saw him in school.

This wasn’t just embarrassing. This was mortifying.

“C’mon, Cherry,” Draken said, instantly recognizing you and your old nickname, “you know you can’t loiter in my shop.”

Cherry. You hadn’t been called that since … well, since high school. Your classmates hadn’t started calling you that because of a specific physical trait. To your face, you were told the nickname was for your quick skill of tying a cherry stem into a knot with your tongue. You had been the best, after all. But unbeknownst to you, the nickname came from when Mikey Sano, the infamous former leader of the Tokyo Manji Gang, popped your cherry.

You hadn’t even liked Mikey at the time. You were just sweet sixteen, and he was a year older, and you had assumed it would be better for your first to be someone with experience. Unfortunately, Mikey Sano had no experience. The sex had been awkward and terrible, as most first times between teenagers are, but at least you could say that you lost your virginity to the leader of Toman. Your eyes had always been on someone else, though. Someone who you had been too nervous to talk to, who you had only shared just a few interactions with. You never had a crush on Mikey as a teenager; you had always liked –

“Draken,” you said finally, shock lining your voice. Your eyes formed into wide saucers. It had been so long, and he was here. This whole time. Right under your nose. How surprised did you look right now?

He chuckled, wiping his hands off on a rag. The cigarette dangling from his lips was plucked out, and he stabbed it into an ashtray. “Don’t look so surprised.”

Oh, so you did look that shocked to see him.

He threw the tool he’d been using on a bench and stepped around the bike. “I really don’t go by Draken anymore,” he continued, sitting down on the rusted motorcycle, stretching his legs out. “Just call me, Ken.”

You were speechless. Were you breathing right now? You had to admit … you still found him to be handsome. He always had been. God, you were obsessed with him in high school, but always hid your crush in the shadows. Not even your friends knew about it, but you’d made it obvious, even if you didn’t know it. And now … he’d gotten better with age. The lines underneath his eyes told a story, as well as the scars etched into his veiny forearms. He could have more that you couldn’t see underneath the tattoos on his arms. Your mouth was so dry from staring at him that you had to lick the corners of your lips.

“Ken,” you said in a single breath, lacing your hands together in front of your body. You hadn’t moved from your spot, even when he was looking at you so casually. “I’m so sorry for loitering. Please, don’t call the cops on me. Or something. I have a reason –”

“Me? Call the police?” He laughed again, and it was just like how you remembered. “Do you know me at all, Cherry?”

Once you found the courage to breathe again, you stepped forward. Then another. And another. “I guess I don’t,” you shrugged, still playing with your hands. “I guess I just knew of you.”

“And I knew of you, all those years ago.” He smiled like you two were in on a secret. The rag that had been in his hands was tossed onto his left shoulder. He was wearing a pair of grey coveralls stained with oil, but the top half was unzipped and tied around his waist, leaving him in just a white tank top on his torso, which hugged his muscles so nicely. “So, tell me then. What’s the reason for your loitering?”

This had to be the most words shared between you two than all those years at school together. You thought about pinching yourself, just to check if this was all part of an elaborate dream. Or nightmare, depending on how it ended.

“Um …” You rubbed the back of your neck, blushing slightly. “Well, you see … the waiting room at your shop is very … quiet.”

His brow raised. “So I’ve been told.” He stared you down. “C’mon, out with it.”

“You’re going to make fun of me.”

“I will not.”

“Yes, you will.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because we went to school together!”

“Oh, you know that means noth –”

“I’m a journalist and I write my articles better in your waiting room,” you finally answered, crossing your arms over your chest. “There. I said it.”

Draken couldn’t stop himself from laughing. He knew he promised, but the giggles bubbled up inside him, forcing themselves to emerge. You looked at him incredulously, blinking too fast. All you wanted right now was to crawl into a hole and be left alone. You had to find a new mechanic after this.

“You said you wouldn’t make fun of me,” you sighed.

He waved his hand as his laughter died down. “I’m not. I promise.” Finally, his shoulders sagged again and he stood up. “I think it’s really cool that you … like my waiting room so much.”

You found your lips pulling into a smile at the same time as him. The tension broke and you felt your dimples crease. “I also like all the little snacks in the machine.”

“And the coffee?” He added.

You shrugged. “Could use some work.”

Draken laughed again, and just the sound of it made butterflies form in your stomach. You never had such a reaction to someone laughing before. What was wrong with you?

He stuck his hands in the front pockets of his coveralls. “It’s … really nice to see you again, Cherry.”

You mimicked his actions, instead sliding your hands into the back pockets of your jeans. “You too, Ken.”

“I won’t bust you for loitering, by the way. Even if it is against the law,” he chuckled under his breath, whipping the rag off his shoulder once again. “Come over here. Let me show you what I’m working on.”

His tone was so casual, as if years hadn’t passed between you two, as if this wasn’t the most you talked in years. You set your backpack down and approached him in front of the bike. Your fingers ran over the slope of the seat, all new despite the rusty exterior of the motorcycle. “That’s new leather,” he informed you. “Feel free to test it out. I need someone else’s butt on this thing so I know if I chose a good material.”

You giggled, all light and flirty. You simply couldn’t help it, especially when he looked at you with those dark eyes, the corners creasing when he smiled. Without missing a beat, you sat down on the side of the bike, like he had minutes ago, and looked up at him. He was tall, but from this seat, he was even taller. 

He pointed to the wheel of the bike, and then the headlight. “I just started replacing the …” His voice drowned out as you simply focused on his lips. His mouth quirked as he explained what he fixed so far on the bike. You watched his finger dance around the bike, taking in the rough exterior of his hands up close. They were so much bigger now, amongst other things –

“So how’s that seat?”

You blinked, bringing yourself out of your horny stupor. “Oh, um – comfy. Very comfy.” You cleared your throat. “So … is this for a customer?”

“It’s mine. This is a personal project,” he explained, leaning slightly to the left, closer to you. “I wouldn’t be working on anything this late except if it was for me.”

His eyes were on you again, drinking you in as you sat on the bike. He placed his hand on the fuel tank, so close to yours. Your stomach was definitely doing flip-flops now, especially when you noticed the way his eyes raked down your figure. You wished you’d chosen something better to wear, something other than a pair of jeans and a cropped hoodie, but you’d only expected to be getting work done in the waiting room today. Not to be confronted by your old school crush. But it looked like it didn’t matter to him. The way he was looking at you … it felt like you were naked.

“It really is nice to see you again,” he said, voice just slightly above a whisper. His stance changed and he moved to stand between your legs.

You bit your lip for a moment. “You already said that.”

“You’re right. Uh … I …” He looked down at his hands, flexing them, breaking his nerves. “You just … look very pretty … sitting on my bike.”

You looked down at yourself. The way you sat with your legs spread wide was anything but attractive, and it wasn’t like you were wearing a cute, little dress. “I do?”

But when you lifted your stare again, his face was so much closer to yours. He was leaning down now, bracing two hands on the leather seat, and trying to pretend like he wasn’t inhaling your perfume. You just smelled … so good. Like strawberries and apples and … cherries. Red, ripened cherries. And the way you were sitting on that seat, eyes wide and cheeks blushing from being caught earlier. Fuck, it reminded him of the first time he saw you in high school. He had been a horny teenager, of course, but the way he saw you tie that cherry stem with your tongue … you were the first person he ever jerked off to the thought of. He had never made a move on you – ever – but at this moment, he was glad. Because things would’ve been different, and you never would’ve ended up loitering at his shop, and you never would’ve been sitting so pretty on his bike, all these years later.

“I just …” He trailed off, words failing him, as he lifted a hand to skim it over your jawline. “You can tell me to stop.”

But you didn’t. You wouldn’t. Your eyes simply batted up at him, leaning into his touch when his fingers caressed your cheek. Your skin immediately flushed. You were so soft, and warm, and god, did his skin prickle when he touched you. 

“Can I tell you a secret?” He muttered, voice gravely. You nodded instantly, and his thumb went to trace the outline of your lips. “I had always been … jealous that Mikey got to you first.”

Had your feelings in high school been reciprocated and you didn’t even know it? You licked at the corners of your lips, your tongue quickly flicking his thumb in the process. “You were?” You asked, already feeling yourself getting wet from just him tracing your lips. “I … never really liked Mikey anyways.” You then shook your head. “It feels silly to talk about this so many years later –”

Draken turned your face back to his, looking into your eyes sternly. “You never liked Mikey,” he said, point blank, pressing his thumb onto your bottom lip.

Without hesitation, you wrapped your lips around his thumb, swirling your tongue around the fingertip. You shook your head at his question.

His breath hitched. Just the sight of your lips around his thumb had him adjusting himself in his pants. He could feel his cock start to swell with need, causing him to mumble a soft, “Fuck,” under his breath.

You weren’t just wet now. You were soaked.

You slipped your mouth off his thumb, leaving a tiny trail of spit. His face immediately got closer, his lips grazing yours. He could tell they were soft, and even your chapstick smelled like cherries. God, how could he be so hard already? “I liked you back when we were teenagers,” you confessed, reaching out to hook your thumbs in the belt loops on his coveralls. “I was too scared to say anything, and Mikey … he’d just been there. Right place at the right time. We really didn’t feel anything for each other.”

Your words stirred something within him, something more than jealousy. Was it regret? The fact that he could’ve had you, all those years ago, if he’d just manned up and asked. He could’ve fought people all day, but when it came to asking out the girl he liked, he’d sat back, let his best friend pop your cherry. It should’ve been him. Fuck, it could’ve been him. 

His lips pressed to yours instantly, needing to taste the sweetness on your lips. His tongue darted out, swiping at that cherry flavor, and he moaned. Actually moaned. Draken wasn’t known to be weak for anyone, but you … you had always been a different story. You pulled him in closer by his belt loops, tipping your face up as he leaned over you. His mouth devoured yours, his tongue slipping past your lips once again to explore your mouth. He gripped the edge of the seat, his other hand cradling your jaw, and you wanted him so much closer. If he just put his knee between your legs, you could –

There it was. He did it, placing his knee right in the perfect spot. You bucked your hips up, setting a slow grind against his knee as he kissed you with feverish intent. Moans fell from your lips and into the kiss, making the tent in his pants grow bigger every passing second. He was so fucking hard now, and he needed more of you. He would have more of you.

“No, stop,” he muttered, breaking the kiss and moving his knee away. You huffed with disappointment, wanting that delicious friction once again, but when you opened your eyes, he was staring at you with purpose. “Please, let me taste you.”

You nodded dumbly, eyes blown out with lust. All you could say was, “Okay.”

In another life, you would’ve said something endearing, or maybe even hit him with a little dirty talk. But you absolutely couldn’t right now. Your head was swimming, the image of him unzipping your jeans and taking them off felt like it was out of a fever dream. Is this what it felt like to drown? No, you were breathing – just about – and Draken was throwing your pants off to the side, kneeling before you. Your legs spread wide as you sat on the bike. Surely, there could’ve been a better place to do this, but the way he was staring at your soaked panties, pushing them to the side to take in your pussy … you knew there was no stopping him. This was just his first course of the night.

His tongue dove between your wet folds, drinking you in like a glass of lemonade on a hot summer’s day. You knew you were done for when his arms wrapped around your legs, holding them apart, giving himself better access to one thing he’d craved for years. He rolled his tongue over your swollen clit, enjoying the sounds that slipped out of your mouth. You muttered obscenities, bucked your hips without thinking, pulled on his slicked-back hair. Anything to give you more friction on your precious, aching clit.

He dragged his tongue down, pushing it inside your warmth, collecting the arousal and groaning like a man starved. Fucking his tongue into you, he angled his nose to brush your clit, and you just about mewled. You had spent so many years either having mediocre sex or stressing over this stupid job, when this – this man you had been in love with in school – was here the whole time, just dreaming about the day he could eat your pussy. So much time wasted, so many fake orgasms, while Ken Ryuguji owned your favorite auto shop, so close to you and right under your nose. 

You were pretty sure the seat on this bike had to have been ruined. Draken was turning you into a wet mess, making your hips buck against his face. His lips wrapped your beloved clit, sucking and pulling, needing more – so much more – of you. Slipping two fingers inside you, he pumped them fast. It didn’t take long for his fingers to curl and find that sweet spot that had your core trembling around him. He didn’t know what he’d do if you came on his face. Honestly, he’d probably cum in his pants on the spot.

“C’mon … c’mon … you can cum in my m–mouth –” He was practically begging, his voice muffled from deep within your thighs. “Tastes so, so good … fuck, Cherry, fuck –”

You couldn’t stop yourself, couldn’t even think about anything but the way his tongue lapped at your clit, before you were cumming on his tongue, your arousal smearing all over his lips. He moaned the second he got just a hint of your essence, burying his face more into your legs. You tasted better than candy, than cherries, than menthol cigarettes. He could spend forever between these thighs, drinking you in and listening to your desperate moans.

Once your body stopped shaking, he dragged his tongue one last time through your folds, making sure he didn’t miss a drop. You yelped from the overstimulation, and when you opened your eyes, he was rising from in between your legs. His licked at your slick still staining his lips, bringing your mouth to his again, letting you taste yourself. Your hands fisted into his shirt, downright desperate for more of him. As if reading your thoughts, he pulled back.

“I know it’s not ideal, given the place we’re in, but …” He cradled your face in both in his hands, as if you were just a baby bird. “Can I fuck you, Cherry?”

You nodded without hesitation, already drunk on his touch. You weren’t exactly sure how he planned on doing this. I mean … you two were in the dirty workshop area of an auto repair shop. This wasn’t exactly the best place to have sex. But then he was adjusting your position on the motorcycle, laying your head down by the handlebar and pulling your legs on both sides of the seat, your ass resting nicely in the curve. His hands were quick to roll off your panties.

“Ken,” you called out, sitting up a little and dragging your hand up. His white tank bunched up at the waist. “Wanna see more of you …”

Draken was so goddamn hard in his pants, his cock throbbing with the anticipation of being inside you, but you were just so pretty and he was putty in your hands. He let your palms explore him, lifting his tank top up so you could see what the fabric had been concealing. He’d really filled out since school – his arms were toned, his abdomen more defined. He looked like the statue of Apollo, all lean and muscled, but with just the right amount of grit. You liked that he never got his dragon tattoo removed (although, that would’ve been very painful), and that his piercings remained the same. Everything about him seemed untouched, but he’d just gotten better with age. Just the sight of him made your mouth water.

You leaned back down on the bike, bringing him down with you. Your lips pressed against his hungrily, and he was so, so tempted to slip his tongue into your mouth, when he felt his cock hard as a rock in his pants, aching and pulsating. His mouth broke away from yours, and he whispered, quite hopelessly, “I’m so sorry, but I really, really need to be inside you or my dick is going to explode.”

A chuckle escaped your lips, and just the sound of it made Draken smile. You nodded, urging him to continue, and he quickly unzipped the bottom half of his coveralls. He took his cock out: it was long, curved, pink at the tip, and leaking precum on the shop floor. All the more reason to be inside you; he couldn’t have his mechanics seeing that on the floor and wondering what he was doing after hours. He pulled a condom out from his wallet and slid the ribbed rubber on. Lifting both your legs onto his shoulders, your ass was almost rising off the seat and he positioned himself between your thighs, noticing the way your slick was smeared all over his seat. He grunted at the sight of it, slamming his cock into your without thinking.

You cried out, feeling him so deep so quickly. He held your legs up, leaning down as far as he could, and muttered, “Fuck, I’m sorry – so sorry – just … needed to be inside you. Needed to fuck you on my bike.”

You hand came up to cup his chin for a moment. “S’okay,” you promised, “just fuck me like you should’ve done years ago, Draken.”

He knew he told you to call him Ken, but just the nickname falling your lips in such a filthy manner had him groaning. Draken pulled out of you until only the tip remained, and then pounded his cock back inside you. You keened, trying to close your legs, but he held them up by his shoulders. He set a fast pace inside you, unable to keep his moans at bay, and slipped one hand off your leg to snake his fingers up your hoodie, pushing it up to your chin. Pulling your breasts out from your bra, his eyes clouded and played with your sensitive nipples. “So good,” he muttered, teeth sinking into his bottom lip for a moment. “Feels so, so good … needed you for so long, Cherry.”

“I know, I know, Draken,” you whimpered, locking your arms around his neck to bring his face closer to yours, your thighs now curling against your chest. Your back ached against the seat and your legs burned from the uncomfortable position, but you wouldn’t dare push him away, not when he was filling you like this. 

With his lips just grazing yours, he tugged on your lip, making you moan, and he fucked into you harder. Your nails were now dragging down his shoulders, leaving marks that he’d think about forever. “Fuck, I’m s’deep … so deep inside you. You’re so warm, so wet – fuck, I’m so close already.”

“Wait for me,” you begged, sighing as his cock curved against your sweet spot. “Wanna cum with you, Draken.”

“I know, Cherry,” he grunted, his pace relentless. Fuck, this was all he ever needed, all he wanted to do, forever. It felt like you were made to take him. “Touch yourself f’me. Cum together … we’ll cum together.”

You nodded quickly, moving your hand in between your bodies, finding your puffy clit so easily. A whine escaped your lips as you fingers rubbed little circles, getting you so close already. You just needed a little push. Draken was slamming into you, his breaths fanning your cheeks, and when he felt your legs start to shake, your walls clenching just a little, he almost died. “Such a good girl …” He cooed, nose brushing yours. “Touching yourself f’me so nicely … fuck, you take me so well … yes, yes, you’re so close. Just like that.”

Your fingers rubbed a little faster, and you knew your orgasm was imminent. With him pushing into you, filling you completely, and the stimulation on your clit … you felt your lips purse into an O-shape. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, Draken. I’m gonna … fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

“I know, I know,” he groaned. “Fuck – gonna cum too. That’s a good girl … doing so good – fuck –”

His release came first. He had been close for so long, Draken was surprised he’d been able to hold back. He came with a loud groan, spilling himself into the condom, and it was only seconds later that your jaw went slack with pleasure. His name fell from your lips in a whimper, and you kept rubbing that aching clit through your orgasm, going tight around his cock. He wouldn’t stop fucking into you, even when your orgasm subsided, needing to feel you clench around him for just a moment longer. The way he filled you wasn’t like any other. You never wanted to feel empty again. You couldn’t, not when you knew how Ken Ryuguji felt inside you.

When you both eventually stopped trembling, he gently placed your legs back down on the sides of the bike. They felt sore and limp, but that was the last thing on your mind. You opened your eyes at the same time, and you both couldn’t help but laugh at the position you were in, the absurdity of it all. The workshop smelled like gas and oil, and you were surrounded by broken-down cars. But you two had fucked like you were in a bedroom, on a soft mattress, rather than a motorcycle. You hand went over your mouth to suppress your giggles.

Draken smiled with you, and then removed your hand, liking the way you laughed. “I know it’s been a long time coming, but … can I take you out some night?”

You couldn’t stop smiling even if you tried. “I’d like that, Ken.”

His cock had gone soft, but he was still nestled inside you, basking in your warmth. Draken wished he could be inside you forever, with your fingers playing with his hair. He would give anything for this moment to last, but he knew this position on the bike had to be the most uncomfortable for you, and he needed to take off this condom. He chuckled under his breath.

“Also, in case you were wondering,” he said, lips pulling into a smirk. “You can loiter around my waiting room anytime.”

[jesuistrestriste]

Something Something art oral fixation...sucking the strap idk

nsfw 18+ // deepthroating, strap sucking, premature ejaculation

Art had spent the last hour sprawled out on the bed for you, the lubed-up translucent silicone strap being rutted down against his aching cock with each roll of your hips, and now you wanted him to suck on it?

It was absolutely covered in his own precome, for god's sake!

And yet, here he was: kneeling down in front of the edge of the bed, his face between your parted thighs, and his body leaning forward so that he can lick up the length and taste himself on it.

You could never say he didn't do anything for you.

You smile and gaze down at him tenderly, your hand in his hair as he engulfs the tip of the flexible pink dildo in the warmth of his mouth. You moan softly just at the sight and nod to him.

"That's it," you murmur lowly, "s'pretty for me, babe.."

He moans around the thickness filling his mouth, and looks up to you desperately with his lidded blue eyes. His hands move to eagerly hold onto your hips, but you're quick to swat them away and shake your head.

He whines, hollowing his cheeks as saliva pools under his tongue and around the strap.

"No touching, mkay?"

He nods and moves his hands down to his lap, but not without a noise of protest first. His cock is stiff and weeping against his abdomen, but his focus is still on you.

It's always on you.

"Like sucking my cock?" you smirk teasingly, your fingers in his hair working to push his head down a little.

He winces as he feels the back of his throat being prodded and entered, and a stifled gag causes his body to lurch forward before he lets his eyes roll back. He nods again, this time with a muffled groan.

You chuckle and bite your lip as you buck your hips a little, forcing an extra half inch to thrust in and out of his pliable mouth.

He swallows thickly and moans headily, his eyes fluttering shut now as he works to take your strap as far down as he can. He gags again softly, and it roars a fire in your gut.

He's so good; a fucking natural.

If you didn't know any better—i.e., if you didn't know how much of an oral fixation he had, and how many times he's had your fingers in his mouth, or how much he liked to suck and chew and lick on things—you'd think he was just a whore.

But you did know better.

He loves shit like this. It soothes him, like cool water over sizzling coals, but it also gets his dick jumping. It was a win-win for him, and for you.

You remove your touch from Art's blonde curls and smirk as you watch his head begin to bob in earnest, sucking and slobbering all over the silicone with every movement. His idle fingers twitch and squeeze at his own thighs, and he knows that if you allowed him just one touch to himself he would burst almost immediately.

"Mmph—mmm," he moans around you, his eyes blinking back open to look up as he lathes his tongue along the underside of the faux cockhead, like he's really sucking on a part of you; wanting to please you with every fiber of his being, as if you could truly feel the way his hot mouth works over every inch of the rubbery rod that he can take.

Your palms flatten out behind you as you lean back on them and train your eyes to follow the way your boyfriend's mouth makes the inches disappear and reappear with every sloppy motion. Your arousal grows hotter and hotter and hotter as you continue to watch, but you ignore it for now. You had other plans at the forefront.

"Suckin' the strap like a pro, aren't you? Mouth workin' like a pornstar's," you coo and hum sweetly.

He shudders and nods the best he can before he suddenly slides his mouth all the way down to the base of the dildo, his nose pressing into your lower abdomen, and then he just.. holds himself there.

Ever the overachiever, he stays like that for a few long moments.

Art squeezes his eyes shut and his cheeks puff up momentarily with a soft gag. He swallows thickly around the intrusion. Tears begin to prick and fill his eyes from the exertion, but he only swallows once more and whines in response to it; all pretty and high-pitched.

"Fuck," you breathe out, before he pulls himself completely off and splutters as thick strings of drool connect his lips and chin to the top of the bouncing pink length. He gasps for air and coughs, wiping at his chin before he leans in again and rests his cheek on your knee wearily. Art's hips jolt forward against nothing but air as he shivers in his seat on the floor.

You lean in as well now, sitting more upright as you glance down to his cock just in time to read his body's tells.

He's gonna cum.

He pants heavily against your leg before he suddenly seizes up in the next instant and lets out a sharp, strangled cry; almost as if the force and abruptness of his orgasm is taking him wholly by surprise. You moan softly as he shakes, his dick jumping as it squirts out rope after rope of his load into the air and onto his thighs and stomach. Completely untouched.

Your hands come down to gently rub at his trembling upper back as he moans softly and blinks away the wetness threatening to spill down his flushed face.

"Oh my god, baby," you speak gently and sensually, "so hot.. I didn't give you permission yet though.."

He whimpers, bottom lip wobbling, and his hands can no longer be still. He reaches up with hesitant arms and clings to your body.

"Sorry, 'm sorry.. I couldn't help it— couldn't stop it— I tried, babe-" he squirms, his intense climax leaving his brain muddled as he recovers.

A soft sigh escapes your lips and you shake your head.

"It's okay, it's alright.. I'm not mad, just teasing."

He whines softly, fingers digging into the softness of your flesh.

"I can go again," he murmurs weakly, almost slurring, "promise."

And what more could you possibly want to hear?

You smile as a soft chuckle spills forth, and then reach up to card your fingers through his hair as his curls tickle your leg where his head still rests.

"Yeah?"

"Mmh, yeah.."

"Okay.. then why don't you come up on the bed again for me?" you whisper.

He keens weakly and slowly pushes himself up onto his knees, cum dripping down his body, so that he can start to do what you've asked of him.

"Good.. Lean on me, I'll help you," you breathe out, "and then we can have some real fun.."

[kitixie]

Little Girl Gone

Little Girl Gone / T.S. (pt. 1)

part two: here

Synopsis: Having been several years since you’d last seen your favorite gangster family, you return to Small Heath a changed woman with a stronger attitude than you had when you left. 

information: this will be a multi part story! idk how many parts exactly, but there will be more!

warnings: none for this chapter!

please leave all comments and reccommendations below! thank you for reading!

“Aye, what does a woman have to do to get a whiskey around here?”, you shouted, rapping your hand on the bar counter. 

You were seated at The Garrison, it was your first stop back in town. You had lived in Small Heath most of your early life, but five years ago you were forced to leave due to your fathers death and your mothers general distrust (and dislike) of the Shelby family. Your mother had kicked you out a few days ago, claiming that you were old enough to be married now, and that she wouldn’t stand for you staying in her house if you weren’t going to look for a husband. 

“Calm down Lady, I’ll- Holy Shit! Y/N, what are you doin’ back!”, a man's voice rang out, making you and the rest of the bar look in his direction. 

Arthur Shelby had always been one of your favorite Shelby siblings, and for good reason. He was loud, funny, and typically a gentleman if you caught him on the right day. You leaned over the bar and wrapped your arms around his neck, nearly bruising him in the process. You had hoped your whole journey here that he would be the first Shelby you saw, and luck had worked out for you this time. 

“Arth, I am sure glad to see you! It’s been a long time, aye?”, you spoke, removing your arms from him and sitting back on your barstool. 

“Hell, it’s been about, what, five years? You don’t show your face around these parts for five fuckin’ years and then you just come back?”, he said, staring you in the face, with a somewhat more serious look in his eye than you had expected. 

‘Yeah, had some family troubles, but I’m back for good now,” you swallowed, “how's all the Shelby’s doin’?” 

“Eh, the usual. Tommys about to run himself ragged, Pol acts like she owns us all, I’m workin’ here now, I actually own the place!” he said, spilling out most of that information in one breath. 

You took a quick survey of the bar, noticing how the decor and table setup had changed since you’d seen it last. The floor was still the same sticky, slimy feeling though. 

“Glad to see you doing well, Arth. Now, please get me a whiskey an i’ll be outta your way!” you spoke, glad to have reunited with Arthur, but not glad to have been out in public this long. 

“Ah, ah. If you think I’m letting you get out of here without seein’ Tom, you’re messed in the head!” He joked, but as you watched him move towards the window to the private room, you realized he wasn’t joking. 

You had not come prepared to see Thomas. He was the only one who never got a goodbye, even though the rest of them didn’t know they were goodbyes at the time. When you were being forced to leave, you managed to sneak over to Watery Lane and have one last conversation with all the Shelbys before you left, and you never told them you were leaving that night. Thomas had been on business, but got home a few minutes after you left. You had regretted not speaking to him then, but now that regret had turned into a fear after hearing about the man he had become while you were away. You had heard things about Thomas Shelby, and they were not things any girl would like to hear about her long-time crush.

‘Oy, that Tommy Shelby is a real whore’

‘I heard he gets around Small Heath like its a full time job’

‘He pays them ya know? Every girl he fucks gets paid, even if theyre not workin’ for it!’

Those were all just some of the things you had heard, and those weren’t even the things you had heard that were related to his newfound habit of murdering those who crossed him. You’ve had your eyes on Tommy Shelby ever since you were 16. Now aged 21, it had been a long enough time that you realized what kind of person you needed to settle with, and logically, he wasn’t it. 

While this entire catalog of thoughts was running through your head, your eyes watched as Arthur got closer and closer to that window. You knew you weren’t ready to see him yet, if you ever would be. So acting on those primal prey instincts, you ran. You hopped off the barstool, and started pushing your way through the crowd of bar patrons, finally having the door insight. You wrapped your hand around the handle, and pulled it open. Stepping into the cool air of the night, you took a deep breath and closed your eyes as you closed the bar door behind you. Just as you were stepping away from the door to begin your walk to the apartment you were renting, you bumped into something, or rather, someone. 

“Thought I’d let you run from me a second time, aye?”

Fuck. 

Fuck. 

“I-I-”, you stammered, not having any idea what to say, now that you were staring at the face of one Thomas Shelby. 

“It’s okay, I’d be nervous too if I ran into someone I left in the dust five years ago.”, he laughed, letting a puff of cigarette smoke roll out of his mouth. 

“Tommy, how did you even know I was out here? I watched Arthur and left before he even opened the window, I don’t underst-”

“Shh. I have my ways, ya know I have my ways.” he spoke, that cool, gravelly voice still hadn’t changed, even after all this time. 

You finally looked up at him, releasing the death stare you had on his chest. He was more handsome now, if that was even possible. His dark hair styled perfectly, like he had touched it up before meeting you outside. His hat was missing, which was a rare occurrence, but you were enjoying the unobstructed view of his face. He was lean, only muscle was visible through his white shirt, and his pants hugged his legs perfectly. He was beautiful, especially in the face. You could see more defined freckles in the glow of the street lamp, along with more defined lines carved into his forehead. You continued to study his face, while his studied yours. You had definitely matured in your time away, but not only on your face. Your lips had gotten fuller, cheek bones more pronounced, and hair longer; but you had also grown tits and an ass. You knew you had assets, and fully planned on using them to your advantage, just not on Tommy Shelby. 

“My God, Y/N, I’d say you grew up…”, he trailed off, eyes looking all over your face and body. 

“Yeah, that tends to happen to people as they age, Tom.” you laughed, feeling suddenly insecure as you stood under his microscope. 

“What are ya doin’ back in town? I imagined you ran off and got married or somethin’,” he spoke, “But, I don’t see a ring on that finger so either that can’t be right or you married a poor bastard.” 

“Not married Tom, never was. It’s part of the reason I’m back in town, but-” 

“What are ya doin’ tomorrow evening?”, he cut off, not even letting you finish explaining how you didn’t want to talk about it right now. 

“Nothing I know about, why?”, you asked, having no idea what was about to come out of that pretty mouth of his. 

“Join me for dinner, yeah? I’d love to sit down and have a chat with ya, but I got to go handle some business right now.”, he spoke, suddenly sounding strained. 

“Uh, I guess I’ll get dinner with ya, where at?” 

“My place, I’ll come pick you up tomorrow at 6, Goodnight, Y/N.” Tom spoke, brushing shoulders with you lightly as he passed by, heading back into The Garrison.

[toxicanonymity]

Hey love your work could you please do a Joel story where reader is virgin/ naive and they are on patrol or something similar. They get cold and Joel convinces/ tricks the reader to strip for warmth and starts touching her saying he just wants to keep her warm and she can keep him warm by using her mouth on him…. dubcon/noncon. Please? Thank you? ily?

Patrol

1.3k | CREEPY!Joel x naive virgin f!reader

joel master list

NSFW 18+ Dubcon/noncon nudity & sex acts: dry humping, vaginal fingering, oral sex; manipulation; idk what else to tag, but cannot stress enough what a creep he is or how naive reader is.

You’re relieved when Joel is your patrol partner.   You’re new to the job and he’s more than capable of protecting you if it comes down to it.  You’re posted at the top of a hill near a shack.  Joel has a sniper rifle set up, but in all the times he’s been posted there, nothing has ever happened.  Each of you has a blanket, but it’s not enough to stay warm.  Your ass is freezing against the cold ground.  

A bitter gust of wind hits, and Joel scoots over, wrapping you both in his blanket.  He smells like pine, whiskey, and dried sweat.  He rubs your arms, then starts to get behind you.  

“Come on now, don’t be shy,” he says.  “Can’t get warm keepin’ to yourself like that.” 

He persuades you between his legs, and you have to admit you’re much warmer that way.  Your ass especially benefits from the heat of his loins.  He offers you a swig of whiskey. You’re of legal age to drink, but you’ve never really done it.  He says it’ll help warm you up. He hooks his arm around you and holds the bottle up to your lips.  It tastes awful and burns your throat, but he’s right, you get a little warmer.  

You sit like that for a while.  He hugs you close and his pants harden against you, which makes you tingle between the legs.  You’re a little ashamed at how your body is reacting when he’s just being a nice guy, trying to keep you warm.  Joel looks at his watch.  

“We’ve got about an hour break now.  Why don’t we go up in the shack to get a little warmer.”  You didn’t know both people could break at the same time on a patrol.

-

Inside the shack, there’s a decrepit sofa facing a window in the same direction you’re supposed to patrol.  Without the wind, you’re already much less cold.  You sit down on the couch.  Joel suggests it’ll be better if you double up the blankets so you can both get under two layers.  Makes sense to you.  You snuggle up to him under both blankets.  

“Still cold?” he asks.  

“A little.” 

“Here, lemme show you somethin’.  Trust me for a second?”   

“Okay.”  He’s so capable and protective, of course you trust him.  

He takes off his jacket and lifts his shirt up a few inches.  Then, he lifts your shirt up, too, and your breath hitches.  You swallow and don’t say anything.  He pulls you up against him and his skin is so warm against yours, it feels like heaven. Your heart races.

“How’s that feel?”

“Warm,” you say.  It also stirs something in your core, but you don’t tell him that part.  

“That’s right.  That’s why people take their clothes off and get really close when they’re cold.” 

You don’t know what to say. You get a whiff of the whiskey on his breath.  

He continues, “Might sound like a silly idea, takin’ your clothes off when it’s cold, but you feel it workin’ already don’t ya?” 

“I guess so. . .” You’re embarrassed.  Something about this feels strange, but you also don't want to seem even less worldly than you are if it's something people really do.

“It’s alright now, darlin,” he says softly as he unbuckles his belt.  “We’ll just give it a try, see if it helps.” 

He smiles kindly and reaches over to help you unbutton your pants.  “Your core right here, that’s the warmest part of the body.  This and your mouth,” he says, running his hands over your stomach and the front of your pants.  “It’s like a furnace.”  He pats your zipper, then unzips it. Your cheeks burn.  “And your heart, here,” he pats your chest, “it’s important for heat, too.”  

A small nod is all you can muster.  “I’m just a little shy, to, uh-”

“Oh it’s okay darlin, it’s okay. I won't look.  You just come on back under here when you’re all set, okay?”

“Okay.”  You breathe a sigh of relief.    The room is cold as you hesitantly disrobe.

-

A minute later, you’re naked under the blanket except your bra and underwear.

“There ya go, darlin.” 

You settle in against his naked body, curled up shyly as a small spoon.  His arousal presses between your thighs.  His hand comes to your underwear.  “Whoops. Don’t forget, this is one of our furnaces.”  He starts to pull them down.  

“Want me to show you another trick real quick?” You don’t answer. 

“I can give you a real strong burst of heat.”  You freeze and say nothing as his hand slides into your panties.  Several fingers wedge between your thighs, engulf your whole front in a hug, massaging you in a circular motion.  Then, two fingers glide further, rubbing against your warm, wet folds.  He pulls down the back of your underwear and nestles his hard package in your crack, rolling it into you and breathing heavily as he massages your throbbing clit.  Tension coils in your core.  

You don’t know what to make of any of this.  You aren't stupid You aren't a child. It’s clearly turned into something sexual.  But he’s so nurturing and protective, you feel like he has the best intentions. 

His middle finger enters you and he whispers, “warmest part, right here,” then adds another finger with a sigh.  His hardness moves against your crack and he grunts softly.  Your hips slightly rock into his hand. “There ya go,” he says.  “You’ve got the right idea.”  He returns his fingers to your clit, trying different strokes, and when you softly moan, he stays with that one.  He pets you faster and faster until the tension bursts and your body jerks.  You’re not cold at all as your clit pulses, releasing the blood back into your body.  

He pulls your panties back up.  “It’s okay if you don’t wanna take these off,” he says.  You’re relieved.  His big, hard cock intimidates you.  It’s uncomfortably close to your holes.  “There’s another way you can get me warm.”   You gulp. 

“Here, turn over for a sec,” he says.  Your ears burn and you can hardly make eye contact as you face him.  He takes your hand and puts it on his hard cock.  

“Feel this?  Why don’t you wrap your warm little mouth around it, see if that helps me?” he asks.  You feel obligated since he made you come, even if you never wanted him to.  

“Um, okay.  I mean, i’ve never. . .”

“It’s okay, darlin’, it’s all about stayin’ warm.  Nothin fancy. You stay under the blankets too, okay?  Don’t let that heat out.”  

You get between his legs and take his stiff cock in your hand.  You’ve felt a few guys harden against you while making out, but you’ve never held a naked one.  It's smoother than you expect, and when he thrusts into your hand, the skin moves on the shaft.

You take him into your mouth and he moans softly.  “There ya go,” he says.  You seal your lips and suck like you think you’re supposed to, and he twitches in your mouth.  “You’re doin’ great, darlin’.”  

His hips begin to lift rhythmically, and you gag but keep your mouth sealed.  His hands come to your head, pushing you down, making your eyes water as you gag more.  You want it to be over as soon as possible, so you don’t complain.  You try to do a really good job.  Finally, he pulses inside you and his cum hits the back of your throat.  You choke a little, then swallow it down.  

“You alright?” He asks.  You don’t answer.  “C’mere, darlin.”  He opens his arms and you lie on top of him for a few minutes.  Then, he says the break time is over and it’s probably best to get back on the hill.  You're uncomfortable, but you remind yourself he'd probably save your life in a heartbeat, so it's a small price to pay.

-

Tag List @tonysterco

[gunnrblze]

Kick x Hesh

NSFW, 2000k+ words, pt. 2 here

A lazy little thing for these two, idk what it really is lol but I love shipping them. Very teasing, very sappy sweet (it was actually supposed to be horny shit but I lost the plot like three times. will probably write something else actually smutty for them)

CW: no actual sex but mention of dick and what not, 18+ MDNI

Kick couldn’t quite explain it, but there was something intriguing about one of the newest young additions to the task force.

Hesh was a smart kid in his eyes. A damn good soldier, trained well and bred with enough ambition and determination for a lifetime. Not a kid, actually. A man. One he found himself lingering on for too long sometimes, amber eyes tracing the outline of Hesh’s biceps all the way down to the belt constricted around his waist. One whose voice made his stomach twist when it rang in over comms. One who had started to drive him up the wall.

It was that little grin that usually did him in. When the man would dote on Riley or joke with Logan, his mouth would curve up, and it made Kick’s heart stutter behind his ribs. He’d willfully ignored it for a while, until Hesh began talking to him more. Asking more questions, unnecessary ones, really. Kick didn’t mind, he could chat if the time called for it. But he couldn’t focus with Hesh standing over him at his desk. He had to will himself to look in those pretty green eyes instead of at the pretty mouth yapping over god knows what.

The worst part though, above all he reckoned, was the dreams he’d started to have about the man. Dreams of lips glued to one another, hands up shirts and mouths going down in directions they shouldn’t.

Maybe it was his fault. Maybe he stared at the sway in Hesh’s hips for too long sometimes. Maybe he shouldn’t admire the way his tac pants wrapped taut over those thick thighs, corded with muscle and littered with enough dark hair to make anyone salivate a little. Maybe, maybe, maybe.

Or maybe Hesh just had a charm that could drag down even the strongest of men.

——————

“Hey man, have you seen Merrick? Got paperwork to do” Hesh would linger in the doorway of Kicks office. He didn’t even need to turn around to know it was the younger man before he spoke, and frankly he didn’t want to. Didn’t want to fuck up his focus, is what he decided on.

“Nah, probably lurking around here somewhere though” the amber eyed man shrugged, clicking at some bullshit on his desktop while his fingers curled around the mouse a little tighter than necessary. He’d curse himself for being so goddamn affected by the kid one day, all it took was that smooth, honeyed voice and he was no better than a sailor being dragged down by a siren at sea.

He could hear Hesh walk up behind him, no doubt eyeing said bullshit on his screen. Kick could smell him too and god, he thought he’d have to force the poor soldier out of his office before he did anything regrettable.

“Watcha working on?” Hesh asked with more intrigue in his voice than he knew the boy really had. He’d been doing that lately. Along with the questions of genuine curiosity he’d throw at him, Hesh would do exactly what he was doing now. Linger. Kick felt both lucky and psychotic about it.

“Workin on work, kid” Kick would reply easily, his free hand biting the nail off his thumb, a habit he couldn’t recall when he’d picked up as of late.

He could feel those mossy eyes on him as Hesh stood behind his desk chair, observing too intently at the way Kicks mouth moved over his thumb. He distantly wondered if the nearest insane asylum had any beds available, because he was certain he was being driven to madness.

“Ya know, Logan told me how gross it is to bite your nails, lots of bacteria-“ Hesh would start to ramble, and Kick wasn’t sure why he was still here, but he couldn’t complain. He’d never complain. It was just difficult to focus with a six foot one, brick wall standing behind you, the dizzying scent of his musk and something faintly pine scented filling his nostrils.

Kick let him rant, and he nodded, chuckling at Hesh’s insistence that he stop the habit before it gets worse. That he should find something else to chew on.

Goddamn himself for taking the whoreish route everytime, but his mind filled with so many other options of items he could sink his teeth into. Things he’d chew and bite and lick at until they were raw-

“Just saying, kinda gross if you really think about it” the soldier would cap his rant off with, reaching a hand around Kicks shoulder to knock his fingers away from his mouth. A grin would form on both of their faces, making the amber eyed man turn to look up at his office intruder, ignoring the way his heart flitted too hard at the contact.

“Don’t ya got something better to do than insist what goes in my mouth and what doesn’t?” He’d ask Hesh, and honest to goodness, he wasn’t sure if he could take the sight before him when he actually did turn around.

Wide grin on the man’s face as he chuckled deeply, the type that made his stomach lurch and his dick twitch a little. Staring down at him with those deep eyes and a comeback settling on the of tip of his tongue.

“Trust me, what goes in and out of your mouth is your business, not mine” Hesh would retort, making Kick smirk deeper than necessary as his mind filled in so many blanks. He debated for only a moment about whether or not he should voice those fill ins.

“Yeah? You seem to care quite a bit about my mouth” he’d settle for something cheeky enough as he swiveled around in the desk chair, thick arms crossing over one another as he faces the soldier now.

It made Hesh blink plainly for a second, a gear visibly turning in his head as the grin faltered for a moment. Kick worried for a second, if he should shut the fuck up and never speak again, but the blush that started to bloom on the man’s cheeks in front of him had his own mind stuttering.

“So what? Nail biting is a bad habit” Hesh recovered quickly, giving a perfectly pretend nonchalant shrug. Kicks brain geared into autopilot, unable to talk himself through whether or not he should bite his tongue now.

“Not biting them anymore…still concerned with the state of my mouth though, aren’t ya?” A little grin found its way on his lips, looking up at the man to admire the way the worsening pink of his cheeks contrasted against the green of his irises. The momentary widening of those eyes was just the cherry on top for him.

“No, just…just saying” Hesh would shake his head, and Kick could see the way his fingers dug into his thick biceps, curling around the firm muscle.

“Yeah? That why you’re still in my office instead of Merricks?” Kick would add swiftly, wondering how far he could take it. How far Hesh’s leash would run before he let himself detach from it, and hit Kick with the comebacks he knew the soldier wanted to give him.

The amber eyed man wasn’t stupid, he knew this wasn’t an equal playing field. That Hesh was younger, less experienced. Too dignified to let himself flirt with an older team member, one that outranked him regardless of actual rank. But Kick knew he wanted too. Wanted to test the waters with him because why the hell else would he still be here? Why would he linger so much? Why would he drive Kick crazy and then let him flounder? Why, why, why, would he let himself get worked up over the resident computer nerd of the bunch?

“Yeah” Hesh nodded, not very subtly biting the inside of his bottom lip as he gazed down at Kick, whose turn it was to be at a loss for words now. His eyes flicked to the open door of his office, and back up to Hesh, eyeing him down and ignoring the way his throat felt a little tighter all a sudden.

Hesh stepped a little closer to him, eyeing the man himself. The way Kicks thighs were spread in his desk chair, tactical shirt tight over his upper arms and shoulders, the delicious week old stubble on his jaw.

“What if…I did care?” He’d ask the operator below him with enough confidence to surprise them both, fingers in a vice grip around his own arms, crossed taut over his chest. Kick merely stared up at him, a smirk forming on his pretty mouth.

“What if you did, hm? Would that be so bad, kid?” Kick would ask, head tilting slightly as he felt his brain start to turn to molten lava at just the simple sight of Hesh biting his lip now.

“Would it?” The younger man asked a bit more seriously, voice deepening. Confirming all of Kicks suspicions. He didn’t want to get in trouble for this.

“No…” Kick answered easily, shaking his head softly. All he wanted was to reassure him, to run his fingers over his buzzed hair and kiss those pretty lips red until every worry drained from Hesh’s head.

“…wouldn’t be a bad thing at all” he was becoming less and less concerned with the state of his office door being open, trusting that he could rely on the sound of any footsteps down the hall to make him act more professionally than he was about to.

Kick stood up, stepping too close for comfort toward the soldier in front of him. His hand extended, cupping Hesh’s cheek with more tenderness than he usually exerted. He could feel the man’s jaw clench and unclench under his roughened fingers, and it made him smile. A smile that Hesh couldn’t help but return.

It was far more warm and inviting than Kick ever thought the world would allow him. Especially with someone who deserved that whole world in its entirety. Someone who deserved a world sweeter than the one he was given.

It became a blur as Kicks other hand cupped Hesh’s face, leaning in only halfway before the green eyed man reciprocated, lips pressing firmly enough to make both men weak in the knees.

Hesh was backed up into the wall behind him, boots squeaking against the linoleum flooring, his own hands flying to Kicks shoulders for support as their mouths fought for first place. One of Kicks hands slid down the man’s cheek to the back of his neck, grasp firm enough to belay his own need, the all consuming heat that was spreading throughout his body.

Sighs turned into groans, hips pressed flush against one another as both men fought to control themselves, all too aware of the open door, and the fact that they’re both very much on duty.

“God, this is even better than I thought it’d be” Kick rasped against the other man’s mouth, willing his dick not to harden up just yet. He could feel Hesh smirk against his lips, the soldiers hands leaving his shoulders to grip his hips with enough firmness to make Kicks knees even weaker, damn near threatening to give out on him.

Somehow Kick could hear footsteps coming down the hallway over the pounding of his heartbeat and the melting of his brain. He regrettably pulled himself off Hesh, catching a bit of oxygen as his eyes roamed over the man’s swollen red lips. A sight he wanted to sear into his brain.

The footsteps drew closer and Kick backed away from the wall, walking toward his office door to shut it before catching sight of Merrick ready to peer into the room.

Merrick immediately noticed Kicks equally disheveled state, but thankfully chose to ignore it, instead, asking if he knew where the lieutenant was. A moment of silent understanding passed between them, before he mentioned a little too loudly to tell Hesh his ass is due in his office if Kick just so happens to see him. Followed by what looked like an eye roll.

Both men fought not to laugh after Kick shut the door and put his lips right back where they belonged.

[gurorori]

i will talk ab source. part 1 is prolly childhood? I REACHED TAG LIMIT

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

Best and Worst of both worlds (Part 4) [Choice: GO TO UNIVERSITY]

tw: yandere, slight injury

damn yall iam tempted to add a third mid yandere like not as slayer girlboss as Yves but not as cringefail Montgomery, but fr idk how to slot it into the story because i think its gonna get 2 crowded

anywahys enjouy and pleas id appreciate them reblogs

part 5

You gave him the address of your university. He may now know where you frequent, but at least he doesn't know where you live.

"Alright, buckle up."

--

"Here ya' go." He pulled up right to the entrance.

You muttered thanks, but as you were unbuckling yourself, he told you to wait for a moment.

You watch him fish a ballpoint pen and an old flyer from somewhere, he removes the cap of the pen using his teeth before scribbling something on the piece of printed paper. He took something out from the side pocket of his door before shoving it into your hands.

You opened your palm to see that he had written his phone number on a torn brochure of the countryside. You quizzingly looked at the crumpled $20 note between your fingertips.

"I'm... actually not done workin' for the day. I'll have to work extra hours to make up the ones I lost. I don't know how long you'll be here, but I bet you're gonna get hungry or thirsty."

You said that you can't accept this, it's a lot of money!

He laughed right at your face.

"Don't worry about it! I'm workin' full time, that's just a little change for me. You just focus on settin' your grades straight. I'll probably clock out at ten in the evening. Give me a call and I'll pick you right up if you're still here by then."

Well, if he insists. You shoved the cash and his number into your pocket as you opened the door. He got out and opened his trunk, he retrieved your backpack with a grunt.

"What's is IN here?" He mumbled as he found it abnormally heavy for someone of your stature to carry daily. You replied that it's your study materials, he only shook his head in pity.

"Are you sure you're alright on your own?" He helped you get your arms into the loops of your straps.

You assured him that you're fine and you're used to this. He opened his mouth about to say something, but you already took off running. You looked back and waved goodbye, he scratched his head in bafflement as to how someone like you can run that fast with that much load.

--

The next bus is in an hour.

Sitting under the bus shelter is definitely not ideal in this severe weather. You wiped the sweat off your brow.

The only place you know you could lurk around without seeming strange is the library or one of the university's many cafes. You checked the time, it's still just half past three in the afternoon. Yves doesn't leave until six.

The cafe it is.

You don't know what to expect, whatever they're selling is always out of your budget. So you never bothered going near it, as it only made you hungry and bitter that you weren't born into generational wealth. But since you're a rich person today thanks to... what was his name again? You had a small spring in your step as you made a beeline to the cafe.

Perhaps you were too excited, you were too fast and too distracted by the various blackboard easels around promoting their respective cafe's dishes. You weren't paying attention to the man leaving the establishment

You bumped into something, rather, someone. Your collision is followed by the sound of a hot liquid spilling and a metal clanking. You gasped, trying to take steps back but you ended up stumbling over your own feet, tripping over your own ankle and falling backwards.

A sense of deja vu washed over you as a strong arm wrapped itself around your waist, keeping you steady and unharmed. But your dignity is definitely bruised to death.

You were afraid to look up. You know who this chest belongs to. Who else would wear a black turtleneck in this scorching hot weather and not break a sweat?

You muttered apologies as he lets go, realizing that not only did you commit accidental assault on your biggest crush, but you also made him spill the golden brown, clear, steaming tea that he's probably looking forward to drinking.

He grabbed you by the wrist and began inspecting you for any burns. Your eyes trailed to his other hand, which is now reddened by the scalding liquid splashing onto his skin. His fingers are still wrapped around his half empty, reusable stainless steel thermal cup. The rubber lined lid is now on the floor, sitting still in a puddle of wasted tea. The smell of jasmine permeates the air and into your nose.

Once he deems you unharmed, he lets go. And you rushed to pick his lid up, flicking any remaining liquid off before nervously presenting it to him.

"Thank you." He plucked it out of your hands and entered the cafe again. Through the pristine glass door, You watched him talk to the employee behind the cash register, they nodded and accepted his cup. Soon after, someone came out with a mop in hand.

They smiled and greeted you as they placed the mop onto the puddle. You panicked when the staff opened the door and invited you in.

At this point, you wanted to run away and hide in a ditch. But Yves is staring at you as he wipes his injured hand with a cool, damp towel provided by cashier. There doesn't seem to be any discernible emotion present on his face, but when you tried to flee- even only a single step, he narrowed his eyes at you.

Defeated, you hung your head low and went in. Setting your kiloton bag onto a nearby chair before making the walk of shame to the counter.

You tried not to look at his face, knowing that you're going to burst into tears out of severe embarrassment and guilt. You went straight to the cashier and asked to pay for his replacement.

"No worries! You don't have to, we replaced his drink free of charge. It was an accident, after all!" She chirped.

That came to you as a surprise. Aren't they supposed to be money hungry? Well, whatever. At least you don't have to pay extra, but you asked about their pastry choices. You wanted to buy him something sweet to make it up for the bitterness.

"Right this way!" She walked to the display case. They all look exquisite, but you felt like your eyes are about to pop out of your head with the prices. Unfortunately for you though, the option which is the most presentable and the cheapest is a large slice of fresh cream fruit cake, for the price of exactly twenty dollars.

You tried to hide your hesitance as you told her you wanted a slice. Good lord, and you see people eating their baked goods every day. She prepared one on a quaint little ceramic plate, placing a miniature fork next to it.

"That will be twenty dollars." You bite your tongue to prevent yourself from grumbling, knowing that Yves has some sort of superhuman hearing. You fish the $20 out of your pocket and try your best to smoothen out the wrinkles.

The woman's customer service smile faltered a bit when she felt a little resistance trying to take the note from you. It took a few more seconds of you mourning and tugging it before you finally let go.

"Thank you!" She beamed again.

Finally, you have no choice but to face him. At least you have a plate of cake with you.

His gaze softened and the straight line formed by his lips was replaced by a pleased smile. You followed him to the table where you placed your bag.

He set his bag down on the chair next to him and took a seat. You placed the dish on the table, you're actually unsure if he wanted you here or left alone. So you awkwardly stood nearby, waiting for the next social cue.

"It's been a while since we last talked. I missed you." He purred. His words and body language is enough to tell that he's accepting of your presence. But you're still cautious, it could just mean he's being nice for treating him to a scrumptious dessert.

"Please." He gestured towards the chair opposite of him. "Take a seat. I would love to catch up with you."

It would be rude not to. You settled in your chair, completely disregarding the rule you set for yourself to not mingle with him.

The table is... smaller than you thought. You're physically a lot closer to Yves than you would like, the table barely served as a barrier between you and him.

"How have you been?" He asked while taking a bottle of hand sanitizer from his bag. Yves applied a decent amount on his palm and rubbed it in thoroughly, going gentle on his recent injury.

You said you were... fine. Not wanting to reveal too much about yourself. The last time that happened, you managed to act a like fool in front of Montgomery. You don't want to look stupid in front of Yves. So you threw the question back at him.

He hummed in response. "I suppose... it could be better."

Yves left it at that. You don't know what to say next, trying not to look at the fresh burn. So you apologized again.

"You're forgiven." He shot you a teasing smile. "How endearing of you, treating me to a slice of this decadent sweet." Yves picked up the fork to cut and retrieve a piece.

"And, It's my favourite. Why don't you have a taste?" He brought the fork closer to your face. You tried taking the utensil, but his other hand went ahead to hold your chin. Applying a gentle pressure to silently signal that he wanted you to open your mouth.

'Why is he like this?' You internally screamed as you allowed the detectability of the cake to sink onto your taste buds. You might be biased, thinking that the dessert is a thousand times better due to him feeding you. You thought that this is the best thing you ever ate in your life.

Your face is probably hotter than his tea at this point. Curling your toes in your shoes as the embarrassment becomes nearly unbearable.

He released his hold as soon as he felt a little tug from your head, knowing not to go too far with his actions; just enough to excite your growing infatuation with him.

You give him a thumbs up as you repeatedly wipe your face with your sleeve as if trying to wipe away the blushes under your skin. Your ears perked up at his chuckles, it was something that you would like to hear often. But you don't think it's worth having heart attacks over.

"Your classmates were discussing about the exam." He cut another piece for himself. You watched him with widened eyes as he used the same fork to eat the cake; daintily covering his mouth with his hand. Yves didn't seem to care that the utensil was smeared in your saliva and proceeded with his train of thought. "They were lamenting over it in the library."

Then, he stopped. Bringing his piercing gaze back up to you.

You freaked out, realizing that this is the cue for you to respond appropriately. You let slip out that the paper was atrocious and you were fully expecting to fail your course. Blood ran cold in your veins as you realized he now knows more than he should.

"That's a shame." He replied. "But, you're being unfairly harsh on yourself."

He was interrupted by a staff member handing Yves his thermos cup filled with his Jasmine tea. Yves thanked them and they went back to their post.

"You're clearly dedicated to your studies." He nonchalantly fed you a piece again, this time without having to hold your face. Only when you bit into a slice of strawberry among the fresh cream did you realize what you had done. Yves slid the metal fork out of your mouth and took another scoop for himself.

This is extremely unsettling how you suddenly felt that comfortable accepting his antics.

"I know you did well." He took his time chewing his food behind his fingers. "You will not fail."

You found comfort in his words no matter how much you thought he didn't know anything about your life. It was nice to have someone recognize your efforts for once without resorting to fake pity.

However, unless your marker accepts tear stains as coherent answers, you are definitely going to fail.

Though, there is a small part of you that found it weird Yves is so sure of himself. It almost feels like your valid worries are simply sleep talk to Yves. But in the end, you dismissed it and convinced yourself that he's just a huge fan of toxic positivity.

You and him continued the day chatting about each other. Mostly about you, though. There were many times that you caught yourself oversharing, the majority of which you either downplay or overplay depending if it made you look good or bad.

Yves would only have a mysterious, even knowing smile on his face when you grossly upsell some of your best moments. You don't know why you did that, maybe subconsciously you tried to impress him.

Eventually though, you don't seem to mind sharing forks with this man who you spoke to twice and counting in your life. You realize if he wanted you to shut up about something, he feeds you a piece. You were offended, but humbled because you would immediately realize how ridiculous you're sounding at that moment.

You swear, Yves must be a practitioner in the dark arts. He made you act in ways you don't normally do, you're unusually attracted to him and he always seems to know how to control you.

You made a mental note to check your bag for any stray crystals, strange leaves, rocks or jewelry when you get home.

Yves sets the fork down on the empty plate before taking a sip of his tea. He listens attentively to every word you tell him about your interests in your favourite colour, your favourite TV show, your favourite song-- things that you knew would bore just about anyone.

Because if someone you don't really know were to rave about whatever you're raving to Yves, you would be fucking bored out of your mind. Your friends and family would be bored too, why is Yves so different? You're completely self aware that whatever you're blabbering right now should cease.

But somehow couldn't stop for the life of you.

It was like a projectile vomit of words, you kept yapping endlessly while Yves nodded and occasionally interjects with his own opinion at the most appropriate times.

In the end, the only thing that snapped you out of this mania is overhearing one of the staff members complaining about having to take the filles trash bag out back.

You knew that food establishments usually do that at the end of the day and you were instantly reminded of something important.

His smile fell into a thin line again when you suddenly whipped your phone up to check the time.

Two busses has gone by and you're still here. The next bus is in five minutes.

You scrambled to gather your belongings, hopped off the chair, and said a quick goodbye to Yves- right after explaining that your bus was arriving soon. He didn't look too happy with your sudden departure, all he did was observe you unspeakingly with his posture straight. Both of his hands were resting on the table atop each other.

You felt chills down your spine as he looked straight into your eyes with no anger, no sadness, but none of that warmth from before.

It scared you, but missing the bus again scares you even more at this point in time. So you took off running, leaving him alone in the cafe.

He spent a few more minutes sipping on his stone-cold tea before, collecting his cup, standing up, and leaving the building. Yves closed the door behind him and from his handbag, he drew out a familiar piece of printed paper with a certain construction worker's phone number scribbled onto it.

Yves took his time to tear it to shreds with controlled, fluid movements of the wrists. He repeated enough times to give him a handful of thin, even strips. There was no way of knowing what the document was anymore, which satisfied him.

He dropped his handiwork into the trash can he walked past. Yves sanitized his hands before heading in the direction of your bus stop with slow, relaxed strides.

[inklyqueen]

Things I Noticed About Velvet and Veneer Specifically

And a small thought I had about Crimp

Because I'm on the Trolls 3 Brainrot. Some headcanons might be in here too. Idk I heard that cover of Fame/Remember My Name and the Freshman theatre kid in me started crying tears of joy because I was in the high school version

Disclaimer that I am not an attorney or licensed anything. I grew up watching Game Theory, so I've learned a lot of MatPat's research methods. That being said, information I've found could be incorrect because, after all, it's the Internet. This is all in regards to a work of fiction, though do consult an actual attorney or legal team if you see a need to.

Content warning for topics in this including torture, kidnapping, and murder. Also Long Post warning.

- As time went on with their songs, I noticed that Velvet was beginning to overpower Veneer. Idk if it was an intentional detail on the director's/music dept's part, but if you go through all of songs in the order they're sung (including Sweet Dreams in John Dory's flashback) you'd notice the following:

- There's an even audio/equal turns in their duet during Sweet Dreams. Velvet has her riff moments but she's not overpowering Veneer. The song itself is also mildly ironic because of the lyrics in context:

...Some of them want to use you/Some of them want to be used by you/Some of them want to abuse you/Some of them want to be abused...

I'm sure the context is obvious, what with Floyd and the rest of the boys being outright abused by the both of them. Though my thought on it goes mildly deeper because when you listen to Watch Me Work, the arrangement is like this (I recommend listening to the song with headphones on/both earbuds in btw):

Purple for Velvet, Green for Veneer, Blue for Both

Never gets old no matter how much I'm told, I'm amazing, You're amazing

Hard to get tired when I'm always on fire, I'm blazin', ooh, you're blazin'

All my greatest, It doesn't come for free (yeah)

All my talent, It doesn't grow on trees

Take a breather (ooh), Then take it all away

If the top is where you wanna stay

You gotta work hard (uh-huh) To make it look it easy

You gotta live fast to keep makin' that money (ooh)

If you want to be as famous as me

You gotta work, gotta work, gotta work

Watch me work...

... Go ahead and watch me work

Haters wanna be me or be with me

Yeah, they're f-f-freakin', Ooh, they're freakin', yeah

I just keep on workin', lurkin', smirkin'

When they think that I'm peakin', never peakin', yeah

Velvet is starting to overpower her brother, not in a social or public image sense, but he's heard less in the music now. On top of that, the song seems to be specifically about Velvet (and the fact that this entire performance is a lie). Veneer is singing to Velvet in agreement of her claims. It's not, "They think that we're peakin'," it's "I'm peakin'," and "All my talent." The only time Veneer sings is to riff/add under it with flair, or to agree that Velvet is blazing on the charts. I'm 99% sure that the idea alone to use Floyd for personal gain was her idea. I still want context as to how they learned that the diamond perfume bottle works that way, and how they ended up grabbing him in the first place okay it's KIND OF IMPORTANT INFORMATION DREAMWORKS

And again in Mount Rageous and the use of Fame/Remember My Name:

Same colour code applies, anything in black are the background/back-up vocals, or a combination of Velvet, Veneer, and Back-Up Vocals together

(Fame!) I'm gonna live forever, I'm gonna learn how to fly

(High!) I feel it comin' together (oh, yeah)

People will see me and cry (Fame!)

I'm gonna make it to Heaven (Heaven), Light up the sky like a flame (Hah!)

I'm gonna live forever, Baby, remember my name...

... All my greatness, It doesn't come for free

All my talent, It doesn't grow on trees

Take a breather, then take it all the way

If the top is where you wanna stay...

...You gotta work hard

I'm gonna live forever, (keep makin' that money) Learn how to fly

If you want to be as famous as me, You gotta work, you gotta work, you gotta work

You gotta work hard...

...If you want to be as famous as me, Famous as my name

Notice how Veneer didn't get a chance to sing alone once in this number, not even for a riff or extra flair. The end of the song when she sings Name she's riffing the highest she ever has alone. Though I do believe that Veneer had had enough at this point and stopped singing, as he didn't want to do the encore. He knew they already won; all they had to do was take the award, finish the night out and go home. PR would most likely be the ones to handle the media with questions regarding why three little Trolls rolled up claiming they kidnapped four other Trolls, and then immediately began jumping at them repeatedly at a specific part of their outfits that they'd covered from the cameras in the first place. (Unless of course, the police got involved. Love how Bruce was the only one that thought to say "Call the authorities," and even if they had the authorities could've at least retrieved Floyd for them maybe so the abuse would stop? I'm sure there's an AU Fanfic in that somewhere—)

- Continuing on this in regards to Veneer, he is the definition of a morally grey character to an extent. There's some minor issues here and there, but I haven't seen a good grey character in animation in a while, so props to the Trolls III team on his development.

But instead of calling it there, Velvet, high on the adrenaline and the fame now lodged into her core, demands he sings again. She refuses to let the Trolls walk away with what they want, even though she's already won and made it to the top, and even if she'd stop there, she wouldn't let any of those Trolls leave if she had anything to say or do about it. So, looking to make more history, she screws herself over in the process. One part on Crimp's "betrayal," (more on that in a minute), but also in one part that Floyd would not have made it through that first song in her encore, and she would have croaked and embarrassed them both. Veneer outright told her he wouldn't make it and she did it anyway (or attempted). Hell Floyd barely made it through the ending chorus with his brothers by the the tip of his black eyeliner pencil.

- Adding to this, I noticed that Veneer never had Floyd in his shoulder pad slot things. In fact he wasn't ever truly the one that had ahold of Floyd's diamond cage for longer than a few minutes at a time. Velvet always spritzed herself first. Velvet almost always had the diamond in her hands. The only time Veneer has the diamond is when he spritz himself, and the two-to-three minute conversations between him and Floyd. When Veneer catches Floyd, he's immediately prompted to hand him back to Velvet. Velvet is almost always in full control over Floyd. Even during "What's with your vibe and your face?" She moved the diamond away from Veneer as if she were defending the bottle. (If I remember correctly. I need to watch the movie in full again and not a bunch of snips and clips.) She doesn't even trust her own brother to be alone with the bottle for longer than a few minutes.

The issues I noticed was how, despite going back and forth about how what they were doing to Floyd was right or wrong, he leaned more towards his sister's viewpoint when reminded of small things, i.e. the illegal pet monkey, but then leaned away from his sister when he stopped and saw what his actions were doing to a little guy like Floyd, who probably only wanted to visit Mount Rageous like a tourist or something. AGAIN I NEED ANSWERS DREAMWORKS

Veneer suggested ways to ease off using the perfume bottle, but didn't push the boundary when Velvet shot him down, and he's outright blunt that she kind of has no excuse to continue the charade. "We grew up in the suburbs, our parents were dentists." (You know they were rich kids if BOTH parents were dentists.) And with the cash they were making off their careers, they could hire a vocal coach AND require a signed NDA (Non-Disclosure Agreement). (Also how do you tax evade when purchasing a yacht??? You literally have to like— Do a credit check or something- Unless they paid with cash in full—) It wasn't until he realized that he'd almost killed Floyd (for real at the end) that he said enough was enough. His mini-panic attack upon Floyd's fake out shows that he has morals, but is ignoring them. He stops to listen to what Floyd has to say and is open to the conversation, rather than shutting him down. ("Just because she's your sister doesn't mean you should let her treat you like garbage." "Doesn't it?") I would not be surprised if Velvet ended up outright leaving him behind in her further climb in fame and the charts if they'd continued beyond the movie without intervention.

As for Crimp:

My biggest question with Crimp is how the hell she managed to get away with her involvement in the kidnapping and torture of a Troll.

Hear me out: I'm assuming now Trolls have more protections after the liberation and total turn around and revival of Bergen Town and the Rock Apocalypse, since she explicitly states "Troll-napping, Troll Torture," rather than just Kidnapping and Torture in general.

Upon her hire-on as an assistant to the twins, I assume she'd have to sign a NDA with their record label to protect their livelihoods and whatever music and songs she sees them working on, but a NDA does not protect a company or person from the law. (Noting that I'm going off USA Law here since these are about the same across most of the fifty states, and I honestly could compare Mount Rageous to Hollywood or Los Angeles, CA at this point?)

NDAs give a company the right to file a cease and desist against an employee if it's found they're giving out private corporate or internal information. This isn't the same as a HIPPA or other kind of protection law that prevents an employee's personal information from being aired out or an HR case being put in the open (think when a customer wants to complain about a retail worker and asks for their last name, you're not allowed to give that information. Or if someone comes to customer service asking if a specific person is working at the moment, you're not allowed to answer that. (At least the store I work at has those rules.)) In the USA with most states, you are usually required by law to report a crime if you know of it. Failing to do so is called a Misprision of a Felony. So if you know your boss has murdered someone and covered it up (*cough cough* Sing 2 *cough*), you are required to report it. If you know your assigned pop stars are holding a protected citizen (or species? I guess?) hostage and are exploiting their powers through means of ESSENTIALLY torture, you'd be legally required to report it. Otherwise you'd be at risk of being held accountable of aiding and abetting. Which technically she could be held accountable anyway because she made that "fruit extractor" for them on Velvet's lie that it's for smoothies on stage. Hell she was LITERALLY getting ukulele lessons from Floyd.

A NDA does not exempt you or your employers from the law or reporting illegal activity. A judge is likely to take that NDA and throw it away when it comes to information regarding the case. The excuse that the NDA prevented Crimp from reporting the crime doesn't hold. Hell I didn't even see a hint of blackmail or threat of harm to herself in this case, unlike Jimmy Crystal in Sing 2, where he outright threatened to kill Buster Moon multiple times and then attempted to commit the murder in front of thousands of people. The only real thing Crimp could ride on with a defense attorney is the fact that Velvet lied and told her that it was for smoothies. She also had a whole cell phone and could have called the authorities when they locked her in the closet. (Internet cell service is not the same as mobile phone service. Phones, even ones that don't have a SIM card or unlocked phones, are required by law to allow phone calls to 911 or numbers that are required emergency services in the USA. It's why your hidden phone from your parents say SOS where the reception bars would be, and also why that hidden phone still got that emergency alert system text.)

I actually did a detailed research post on Jimmy Crystal's offences and what he could face for prison time here if you wanna read over it :3

Anywho, I love them a lot, I hope this post was helpful or gave you some new thoughts and insights :3

Bonus Floyd Gif bc I love him

[lunadreamscaper]

Random Darth Calculus headcanon. He probably has the best like… self care baths known to man.

Another headcanon is that he’s an old fart who’s holding onto what hair he has left. He wants to be immortal and sort of is I think but also he’s old and is probably still aging to some degree. He hair be dissipating 😱

So he probably does all the products and hair shampoo and conditioner and takes great care of it but … idk how well it’s workin out for him.

Also skin care routine too probably.

One other headcanon is that his eyes are like glowy and shit, not like avatar state bright but bright enough that it’s hard to tell where his irises/pupils are and stuff from his sclera (which I think is the word for the white part of your eyes.)

He’s also probably had experiments done on himself, or like had transplants or modifications done to him after the successful brutal experimentations that his workers have done for him. [this is kinda touched on The Scientist Mod video where he wants to be turned into an Acalacam by Toast’s father. Then again in “Johnny Ghost meets Freddy the Dinosaur” I think,, I’d have to rewatch the dinosaur one.

Also I need to learn more about D.I.E.

Also my friend Mcbeebo added this and it’s absolutely canon to me now amen 🙏🏻

[kittyball23]

Trolls Soundtrack Prediction?

Idk if anyone else has made a post like this, but nevertheless wanted to talk regarding the soundtrack for Trolls Band Together.

My bro and I were discussing the possibilities the other day and we made a rough outline of how we think it’s going to go, so here it is :3

Opening Melody (We Are Family + something else)

Both Trolls movies have started with opening melodies, part 1 being Move Your Feet/D.A.N.C.E/Sunshine Day and part 2 being Trolls Wanna Have Good Times. From the trailer we know that We Are Family is one of those songs that they’re going to mashup with another one or two songs.

2) BroZone Flashback Song

Yes, I know the trailer had Staying Alive, but let’s remember that Zim Zallah Bim was used as a trailer song for the K-Pop Trolls in Trolls World Tour, whereas the movie instead had Russian Roulette. My bet is on Staying Alive maybe mashed up with something else :3

3) John Dory Song

I think it’s quite possible each brother will have their own solo song at some point. Their profiles on the BroZone website stated their tastes in music, with JD’s being listed as Top 100 Pop/Rock

4) Spruce Song

There’s definitely gotta be one for this guy. Tropical Rock is listed as his preferred taste in music, another clue leading me to believe he’s found on Vacay Island

5) Clay Song

Not a whole lot of info that I could find yet on this brother aside from what’s on the BroZone website, but as he’s voiced by Kid Cudi, I’d imagine he’d have a song too. BroZone site lists his preferred taste in music as Alternative Rock.

6) Floyd Song

He’s the one being kidnapped. Whether it’s for his talent or not, I still believe he’s going to sing a solo. Soft Rock n’ Roll is what he likes according to the site.

7) Villain Song

Original or not, Velvet and Venir will likely have songs. It might not even necessarily be ‘villainous’ per say (like Barb’s songs in Trolls World Tour) but still something

8) Viva Song

She’s voiced by Camila Cabello, so yeah, she’s gotta have a song XD

9) Sad/Slow Song

Trolls and Trolls World Tour had their glum moments and a song to accompany it.

10) Reprise of a song from a previous movie

This one might be a stretch, but I really like callbacks to previous movies when they are musicals to be in song. Disney’s Z-O-M-B-I-E-S series had the song Someday in each movie of their trilogy, and I remember getting real happy when I was younger when We’re All in This Together was brought back in HSM 3.

11) BroZone Reunion Song

My guess is that the brothers are going to have their tiff but come to reconcile, whether it is an original song or a boy band song that already exists. If they shoot for original, the example that I could think of off the top of my head would be something along the lines of Cheetah Sisters from The Cheetah Girls 2003 (starts off slow and uncertain before hitting the beat, singing about being brothers and a family, each one gets a solo part before singing all together, echoing off of one another)

12) Poppy and Branch Song

It’s been implied that Branch and Poppy are going to get at the very least engaged by the end of the movie. They’ve gotta have a song, whether it’s fun and bouncy or slow and loving (or even a combination of both!)

13) Finale

A musical movie has got to have a musical number at the end, no doubt about that

14) Original Song 1

Most likely something with Justin Timberlake + someone else. In Trolls it was Justin + Gwen Stefani What Cha Workin’ With, Trolls World Tour featured Justin + SZA The Other Side as well as Justin + Anderson .Paak for Don’t Slack. My bro thinks it’s going to be Justin and Camila Cabello in this one

15) Original Song 2

Trolls had Get Back Up Again, They Don’t Know, and What Cha Workin’ With. Trolls World Tour had It’s All Love, Leaving Lonesome Flats, Don’t Slack, Just Sing and Rock N’ Roll Rules. Trolls Band Together is sure to have more than one original song

16) Another Version of a song already listed

Trolls soundtrack had two different versions of True Colors and Can’t Stop the Feeling. Trolls World Tour had two different versions of It’s All Love

17) Snippets of songs that were extended to a full version

Rock You Like a Hurricane from Trolls World Tour was only in the movie for like 2 seconds and it got a full 3 minute track. Just about the same thing with Crazy Train and Atomic Dog. On a side note, I do think that there will be little snippets of songs maybe throughout the movie that did not get onto the soundtrack, like how Celebration was very briefly sung in Trolls, and how Can’t Touch This, Russian Roulette, and Mi Gente were all featured real quick in Trolls World Tour

Aaand, that’s about it for now! I might get more ideas when more trailers, merch, and TV spots come out. With this outline and the knowledge that the Trolls movies are primarily a jukebox musical, what other songs do you think will find their way onto the soundtrack?