#is she half human and half machine??? yeah in this au

[hymnoire]

"and you.. who are you?" ( for my boy @homelander-rp-blog for any of your muses! for apocalypse au! )

Six months ago, during the war, Gaya fell and broke. Shot in the stomach, ejected through a window that cracked open, twenty floors high. Her spine shattered, her left arm snapped like glass, and her iliac wings were pulverized. She bled out on the pavement, dead. Technology had advanced in this new chapter of the world, enough to piece her body back together, enough to merge flesh with steel and thread her nerves through circuits. Her left arm and her spine were fully replaced, bionic. Neural pathways were rerouted through a matrix of living code. Her body healed, but she was no longer just human. Half a woman, half a machine. That same technology is what tore the world apart. It began in secrecy, in government labs chasing transcendence, trying to rewrite the limits of the human condition. But the secret didn’t stay buried. Titan, a terrorist syndicate with no face and endless reach, stole the research before the government could even lie about it. By the time Titan was found, it was too late. They were out for blood, and they got it. Gaya always believed humans shouldn’t play God and she was right. Sadly, she still failed to stop what came next. The war that followed wasn’t just civil, it was apocalyptic. Titan’s stolen tech created HumanAIs, hybrids built for war, programmed to kill who inevitably start killing regular humans. What started as a silent war became a global one, spiraling out of control. Now, what's left of humanity hides. Scattered. Starving. The cities belong to the HumanAIs who operate for Titan, soulless, and ruthless. The rest of the world is a crumbling wasteland of rusted skeletons and toxic air. Humans live in exile, in otarcy, a kind of existence where survival is a full-time job and trust is extinct. Many wander the red deserts, where wind doesn’t blow and the sky forgets to rain. Gaya hasn’t awakened yet from her recovery and surgery, she still lies in a bed made of glass, intubated, in a room that’s kept hidden. A room watched over by Kaeleena.

Kaeleena stands like a ghost wrapped in ivory, a vision so pristine it feels offensive. Her dress is immaculate, the color of untouched snow, stitched from something too soft to be real, yet too perfect to be fabric. It clings and drapes with eerie fluidity, a high-collared robe that splits open like a ceremonial blade down the front, revealing thin bands of gold coiled along her ribs. Ornamental and useless, like jewelry meant for gods. Her feet are bare. Clean. Silent. She moves like she’s never touched the ground. The room she inhabits is an aberration in this post-collapse world. A sanctum of impossible luxury carved into the bones of Titan's supremacy. Glass walls rise around her like cathedral windows, refracting artificial light into dancing gold across the marbled floor. A single desk dominates the room, sleek and angular. Behind her, a massive screen displays with schematics, pulse maps, surveillance grids, and living files. One of them is labeled simply: Gayane. Cables slither from the ceiling like lazy serpents, some plugged into her desk, others drifting, whispering data and venom. The air smells of antiseptic and something older, like ozone or blood. Kaeleena leans against the edge of the desk, absurdly at ease in this sanctuary of horrors. Her eyes are pale, too pale to be fully human anymore. She was once, like all of them. When she smiles, it is with the slow satisfaction of someone who has already won. Her presence is cold. Where Gaya burned, Kaeleena freezes. She doesn’t need horns or claws. Her power is in her poise, her intelligence, and the certainty that she knows everything. Every path, every death, every betrayal. She watches John with the look of someone who already knows how the story ends. He is being escorted, not dragged or restrained, merely shadowed by the men who guard Titan’s inner sanctum. She has been expecting him. When he enters, she smiles, the curve of her lips dangerous. He asks who she is. Even if she would love to kill him, she doesn’t. Not yet. For the love of the game. “I do wonder,” she says, voice smooth as oil over glass, “if Gayane ever spoke of me, darling. I sincerely hope she did. If not... I shall be very disappointed. And I do not wear disappointment well.” They look exactly alike, Gaya and Kaeleena. Same eyes, same bone structure. But where Gaya kept the storm in her dark hair, Kaeleena bleached hers into light, so pale, almost white. Their auras, however, could not be more different. Gaya was the flame. Kaeleena, the frost.

“Who am I?” she repeats, stepping closer. Her voice is steel. “I am the villain in your precious narrative, John. Welcome to Titan. Our empire is sacred, and I…” She smiles again, this time with teeth, deranged and proud. “I am its High Priestess.” She knows exactly how far he’s come. Crossed the red deserts. Walked through cities infested with soulless machines. All for her. “Don’t tell me,” she purrs, circling him now, like the serpent in Eden, “you came all this way simply to meet your sister-in-law.” Her tone turns mocking, cruel in its sweetness. “What is it, then? Have you come to steal my beloved Gayane away from me… instead?” She leans in, eyes wide with exaggerated sorrow, a hand drifting to rest against her heart, as though to calm some violent flutter within. “I have peered into her mind, you know. I have seen the two of you, watched those fivelong years unfold like pages in a sickeningly intimate little novel. The investigations, the dates, the whispered conspiracies, the moments where death breathed down your necks and you clung to each other like lifelines. And then, of course, the sweet, sweet love-making. I love yous in Missionary aren't as cute as you think they are.” Her lips curl with disdain, like the very memory leaves a taste of ash on her tongue. Psychotic and jealous? “She loves you. More than she ever loved me. Can you fathom that?” A low, brittle laugh slips from her throat, somewhere between a sob and a knife dragged across silk. She's deranged. “It shattered me,” she says softly, with a tragic little tilt of her head. “I’m terribly sensitive.” Then, just as quickly, her gaze turns. The softness evaporates, replaced by something cold and merciless, something that cuts. “So tell me, John,” she murmurs, voice tightening. “Do you want her back… or not?” She steps back, just slightly, her hands clasping behind her back, posture impeccable, like a queen awaiting terms of surrender. “Because I am not above bargaining and I always enjoy a good negotiation. That's how we can get to know each other.”

[barabaraoranges]

welcome to your new life!

ft. gn!reader, sam, dorian, mentions of dishy

brief mentions of reader's "microflora" in relation to washing sex toys in dishwasher. does not specify what microflora. reader is called "dude" by Sam

explicit content: none. there's an anal joke, discussions of fucking dishy, discussions of arson, and brief imagery of fucking dorian but nothing explicit. regardless, please remember this is a primarily 18+ nsfw blog when interacting and scrolling.

wc: 2.2k

written before game release. this is a laundry list of the author's initial thoughts and immediate sex jokes when it came to this game. will probably be inaccurate to canon. reader has also not discovered everything is alive. this is also straight up the first i've written in upwards of half of a year so apologies if it's rough.

"Do you think my dishwasher knows I looked up if I could wash my sex toys in it—I mean, him?"

A stranger turned their head as you walked down the sidewalk. You, oblivious to the mortified stare, continued your pitiful attempt at a calming stroll through the neighborhood, loudly chatting with Sam on the phone.

"First, gross. Microbiome flora and stuff," Sam replied. You could hear water running in the background. Dishes, probably. "Second, why would it know that?"

"Oh, he's, uh… He's connected to the—uh—the wifi."

It had been a week since that the thing. The glasses. The thing that made you question every single thing in existence, that made you look into the trees and ask, are every single one of these leaves secretly alive? And do they die each winter? appeared in your life. A single item that introduced a level of existential horror and dread you could have never dreamed of.

You were thankful for your friend Sam and the fact that the outside, well, still existed. Even if the outside consisted of family homes snatched up by corporations that butchered them into grayscale or beige per-the-room rentals for semesterly college students. Or became a revolving door for GroundInn users, shutting out any potential families to settle down. There was at least somewhere to debrief that didn't feel like there were a million things watching, listening to you at all times.

Briefly, you wondered if the HOA had a human form. An image of a businessman popped in your head—grayscale, beige, lifeless like the homes that filled your street. Your grass is too tall! No native wildflower habitats! Your house color is too bright! The bylaws, the bylaws, pay the fine!

A sweat pearl rolled down your face.

"… Okay, that's fucking weird and super intrusive. So like, yeah, he probably does know. But like, dude-"

She paused.

"-I think you're edging your dishwasher."

So casual. So passive with the delivery. And yet, it felt like a truck with how tight your chest felt. You needed somewhere to sit to process.

Thankfully, at the end of the neighborhood was a small café, its windows shuddered and door boarded up. Café au Café had been an established, family owned café that you remembered fondly from childhood. It'd grown with you over the years, in all the good and bad ways. It's where you celebrated many birthdays, had many of breakdowns in over college work, and celebrated your eventual graduation. Its croissants warm and flaky, buttery and to die for. The pastries delicate, a work of art to brighten even the dreariest day. The coffee and drinks, always perfectly tailored to fit your mood, like the machines had a magic in them to make everything right.

And much like your job, it was shut down thanks to the robot cafe that had opened just down the street. Its croissants arriving frozen and simply needing thrown in the oven, the coffee bland and prone to triggering a depressive episode. But it was cheap and that was enough for everyone to overlook the lifeless husk serving them their morning meal. The family owned Café au Café was no match for it. In less than a year, your childhood had shut down permanently.

It did, however, make the perfect narrative backdrop for a Pastel Revelations Catholicism level mental breakdown. A last moment of comfort and reassurance from an old friend. You sat down on the once welcoming metal chair, now rusted from time and neglect. Elbows on your knees and hunched over, you rubbed your face with your free hand.

"Or is it foreplay?" Sam wondered, not giving you a moment of rest. "Like, dirty talk and shit. 'Oh, I'm gonna do all these dirty things I said I was gonna do to you' but with like, the weird shit you search."

"Sam." It took a moment for words to come out. "I'm not fucking my dishwasher."

"Okay, but like… It'd be an experience."

"Sam." You sighed, exasperated. "He's got two human legs and his upper body is a dishwasher. I'm not fucking a dishwasher with legs."

"Ugh, boring."

You thumbed through your mental archive of dishwasher anatomy. There was a drainpipe and something to let the water in, obviously. But what about the inner parts? The little squirting parts, the racks, the dish tab spot.

None of those seemed particularly pleasant.

Or was the dishwasher part just a mascot? Something he put on over himself? Maybe he was just, some guy underneath it all? No, that wasn't possible. The top half was your dishwasher, through and through. There was no mistaking it, not with how intimately you knew his inner workings from deep cleanings in the past. Clearing his drains, snaking out the clogs, scrubbing the gunk buildup away with a Father Scrub and a thick, heavy squirt of milky Dusk dish detergent…

… Had you been teasing your dishwasher this entire time? Did he expect you to…?

"I don't think whatever hole he's got would be fun to fuck," you concluded, shutting that down. "I think it'd be painful."

"Okay, but like… You don't have to be the one topping."

"… Didn't you just lecture me about microbiome flora stuff?" You retorted, exasperated. "I think getting fucked by the dishwasher would be considerably worse for my microbiome than fucking myself with dishwasher cleaned sex toys."

In the call background, you could hear the telltale signs of dishwashing. Water running, hard scrubbing. I guess that's an option, you thought. Or would he start getting weird about not using him? Would he understand? Does he have an ego? If he did know that you had searched if you could wash sex toys in home, it would be a bit less awkward.

You made a mental note to start cleaning your toys in your basement bathroom.

It never fully struck you exactly the gravity of your situation. So many people with different personalities. You had Dorian who stressed the importance of friendship and getting along with everyone. You had Dishy who seemed to be on the verge of a mental breakdown. Admittedly, you'd been avoiding using the glasses to find out exactly what all was alive, with Dishy being a complete accident. You didn't really want to know exactly what all was alive, with those two being enough to rattle your entire view on the world. But with the way Dorian stressed friendships and getting along with everyone…

How expensive would it be to move? The housing market was in shambles and renting seemed miserable. Shelling out a few thousand dollars would eat into your emergency savings you needed to live out the newly unemployed, single life. Plus if all your furniture was alive, you'd have to get all new furniture too. Or would the new furniture come alive too? If you got rid of the glasses before moving, you'd probably be able to avoid everything coming to life. Just toss it in the trash can, put it out for trash, and good-bye to all your problems!

Wait, the trash can's probably alive too, you thought, remembering Dorian's lecture on friendship. Shit, there goes that plan… Maybe…

"Ya know, I could just commit arson," you concluded rather reasonably, "claim it with insurance, then move and start a new life somewhere else."

A splash of water, followed by swearing and clattering dishes in the sink. You could feel the disappointment radiating from the other end of the phone.

"Well, now you can't because you just told me-" More muttered swearing. "-And I'm not getting involved in the investigation."

Mentally, you crossed a life of crime off of your "new career path" list. You wouldn't be able to shut your mouth, evidently.

"Besides, wouldn't you feel guilty burning everything down, knowing everything is alive?"

Now that… That was a question you could dwell on. Something to distract you from everything. What were the metaphysical properties behind your furniture? Did they have a soul? Did they exist in some quantum realm? Mentally you thumbed through an extra dusty, cobweb covered, steel filing cabinet drawer labeled "philosophy 101". Or was it a question of quantum physics. A pity you didn't study physics in college, that might have saved you from being taken over by AI.

But the possibilities. The possibilites of discovering a new philosophical concept that will stump the future generations to come. Something to leave your mark on the world. A question of "can something temporarily have a soul if you are specifically focusing on it through certain lenses?" How would this apply to court rulings? Legal proceedings? Would these glasses be required in court cases to determine damages to a living human being? This discovery could be groundbreaking and generation defining.

Triumphant in finding a proper course for your life that couldn't possibly be taken over by AI, you stood from the abandoned chair. Pride swelled in your chest, your chin held high.

"… Sam."

She groaned at the pride in your voice. She knew that tone of voice all too well.

"Would I be legally on the hook for killing them if I commit arson?"

"… Dude."

"Would the courts consider furniture that comes alive only when you wear specific glasses as human beings, thus making it murder if I commit arson?"

"Dude!"

"I should go back to school and become a lawyer. Or a philosopher. Think about it!"

"I think…" She sighed, audibly shaking her head. "I think you should go home and start applying for jobs before you completely lose it."

It was probably high time for you to head home. You hadn't been out for extended periods of time after losing your job, and you didn't want your now alive front door to worry too much about you. Idle conversation accompanied you as you walked home, consisting of Sam talking you down from going back to college to becoming a lawyer, explaining that people would probably think you'd lost if you tried to argue that furniture had souls. You wondered aloud if you needed to start getting more food, if your grocery budget would go it, if you could claim them on taxes.

Again, a stranger looked back in horror and concern as you had these conversations. Once again, you were oblivious to it.

You'd taken to saying goodbye a block before you got home, not wanting Dorian to overhear what was said in private. You deserved at least the briefest moment of privacy, knowing it ended the minute you put your key in the door.

At least it was useful, to a degree, having a front door that could tell you everything that happened while you were gone. Even if everything else felt like a weird, vaguely panopticon level of surveillance. Closing the door behind you, you slipped your glasses on and looked at Dorian.

The man had a… Puzzled? Puzzled look? Quizzical? Was he even capable of showing confusion? Whatever it was, it was clear he had a question on his mind.

"What's up?" you nervously asked, tensing instinctively.

The last thing you needed was someone casing your house.

"I've noticed something." His voice was straight, reliable. As usual. "If you don't mind me asking."

Stalker? You prayed for a brief moment it wasn't that.

"… Go ahead."

"Do you prefer coming in the back door?"

Such confidence. Such, nonchalance. Such poise. You looked at his face, desperate for an indication of what he was meaning. Was this a joke? An innuendo? Was this a statement about all the hookups and dates you brought to your house? Was this a genuine observation about your door using habits?

Mentally, you thumbed through everything he could possibly mean by that statement. You didn't have many reasons to use the front door nowadays, outside of grocery runs. Admittedly, you'd also been sneaking out the back to avoid any… Conversations with your now very alive door. So the statement wasn't exactly wrong, but-

…. Wait. Was the back door also alive?

"This is the first I've seen you in a while. You've been spending more time with the back door. I wanted to make sure everything was going smoothly between you two."

The back door was, in fact, alive. Because of course it was. Of course it was! Why wouldn't it be alive?

"Well, I, uh," you stumbled, searching for the proper words that wouldn't make this possibly not innuendo an actual innuendo. "I enjoy sitting out in the backyard. Sun is good for the uh, health and stuff. The vitamin D, ya know."

Would a door know about the benefits of sunlight? Does a door know what vitamin D is?

Does a door know about anal?

"Very well. I'll make sure his hinges are lubricated weekly and his knob stays clean. Smooth, easier entrance for everyone."

Lubricated. Smooth. Easy entrance. You thought about the first time you bought lube in college. Something about bullets? You figured a masc like Dorian would know all about that brand.

"I wouldn't want anyone to have a painful, unpleasant entry."

Somewhere in the background of your brain noise, the squeaks from your backdoor turned into moans, into groans, into heated gasps. The banging became actual banging, Dorian bent over in one way or another. His face flush, sweat dripping on his brow.

You weren't sure if you enjoyed the thoughts or if they simply happened because of the conversation's nature. All you could do was stare at him, your face as blank as you could possibly manage.

"… Thanks, Dorian."

"Anytime."

barabaraorange 2025

i only post on tumblr. if you see this posted elsewhere, it is not me. if you find this on ao3 or wattpad, please let me know if you find it so i can report it.

[factual-fantasy]

30 Asks! Thank you! :)) 🐮

I was able to replace my tablet chord and download a brand new/fresh FireAlpaca file and so far things seem to be all better. But if my problems come back then I will be drawing in traditional yes <XDD

Also thank you so much!! :DDD

Bella my NPC cat? :0 She would accept the pats :))

@artistiemi

Awwwwwww 🥹🥹 This drawing is so cute and soft 😭😭💞💞💞 Thank you! :)))

@chickenmilk120 (Referencing this post)

Yeah 😔😔 hoping they change it someday soon 🙏🙏🙏

(Link in question)

Oh yeah! Its right here :)

@sc3n3mo-t3to

XDDD Thank you!! :))))

@candyglumboy (Sent after this post)

Not a crush, he's in love! :0 And so is Pomni but neither of them really realize that/understand it and thus aren't really doing anything about it <XD

@rockandtoon

SOBBBSSS THANOYIYUUU SO MCUCHYHH 😭😭💞💞💞

@fandomcenteral

Aw! Cute kitty!! :DD

And thank you, currently I feel not the best 💀 but hopefully this next doctors appointment will give me some answers <:))

@kwaziis-eyepatch-real

Thank you! :) But also sorry, no.. I wouldn't be comfortable with my art being used as pfps <:(

Ehhh,, I wouldn't <:( That probably wouldn't sit well with me..

Thank you very much for checking first though! Not everyone does <:)))

WAHAGG THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! :DD Sucks that you found me offsite but glad you're here none the less! :)

And don't worry, you'll find stuff for Kinger XDDD

@captain-skyler1987

Hello! And are those guys from Dandy's world.? XD

I don't like what you're implying by turning Jangles into a werewolf and then putting chocolate on the table <XDDD

@natewithcake (Post in question)

AAAAA THANK YOU!! :DDDD

MEEHEHEEEEHEHEEEEEEEEE🎶

@bellanova137

Maybe they'll come out and make it official someday! :0 But for now having them be in love and trying to hide it from each other is fun to draw and mess with XDD

I feel like having a wolf centaur body would mostly just be incontinent and very uncomfortable.😅

Typically, wolves display crepuscular behavior, meaning they prefer times of low light and are most active around twilight, dawn, and dusk. Imagine how that would clash with your human body which is supposed to sleep at night and stay awake all day..

You'd have to change your diet to give both your human AND wolf half the nutrients they need. It would be MUCH harder to clean yourself and wipe your own bum. You'd have to pay loads for pet shampoo and grooming products PLUS the human ones you already use.. You'd spend hours trying to groom your fur and not damage your wolf skin when you try to clean your human skin with other products and vice versa. All clothes have to be custom made, you cant sit or walk comfortably in any public spaces.. You'd have to go to human doctors AND special vets to care for both of your halves...

The list just goes on <XDD being a wolf centaur would just suck in my opinion.

Ah sorry- nono you weren't being rude. I just forgot to comment back that I don't actually know what laptop I have 😅

@ink-machine-kidd

She probably snuck past whoever was in charge of her and put on the headset even though she was told not to😔

(Recent post) (Queenie and Kinger comic)

Oh nono, I just hadn't made everyone's ref sheets yet at that time. But different outfits is something Caine would try to manage! :0

Man you really had pirates on the mind huh XDD

Ohh, I see. I might not do that.. but I get the idea now <:D Thank you!

Vibes received 🤩 Thank you! :)))

Thank you!! :DD

Big wolf! :D

@samcat71470558

Thank you for the kind words <:))) So far it seems like the new tablet chord and downloading a fresh FireAlpaca has fixed all my problems. Hopefully it stays that way! 🙏

XD I think I just have a pattern with medias I'm into. If the story is mostly wholesome it feels bland. So I add a bunch of angst to it. (Octonauts is a good example)

Or alternatively, if the story is super angsty or has types of angst that I don't take well, (like character deaths) then I usually make a fix-it AU that brings everyone back to life and changes/removes a lot of the angst. (TADC and my Undertale AU: RefinedTale being good examples)

Also in my AU, Kaufmo hasn't abstracted. So she bonded with the other humans in other ways overtime. 👍

@wolfie-777

At first I assumed these were obviously fake. But a quick Google search shows that they seem to be real! :0 Although the peeled banana is clearly photoshopped <XDD

Ngl, a vanilla-like custard taste is exactly what I hoped/expected those bananas to taste like XDD

@theintroverse

La Chancla translated to "the flip flop".? <:0 I'm sorry but I don't understand..

Also is he based on a Pinata? :0 I hadn't realized- perhaps I will have to consider giving him some candy powers <XDD

[flightfoot]

any fic recs featuring polyamory?

Oh yeah, definitely!

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Herbs And Steam by @liiinerle

Juleka le Flor Blef, nature witch from near the forest of Couffaine, arrives at Eiffel Castle so she can partake in the Queen's Trials - a contest to determine the strongest witch in all of France. She wants to prove the strength of her magic, but when she arrives, her attention is quickly distracted by two very interesting women: Kagami, the princess, who seems to act nothing like a princess should; and Marinette, the blacksmith, who has created a magic all her own through metal, steam, and ingenuity. Juleka is immediately besotted with both of them, and needs to work extra hard to focus on her magic. Juleka also soon becomes aware that there is stronger magic at Eiffel castle than she had expected. For one thing, there's a tree in the courtyard put there years ago by a witch whose powers seem to surpass hers; for another, there's Alya la Pluvie Versaunt, who must be the most powerful mage Juleka has ever met...

Unusual poly here, there aren't a lot of Juleka/Kagami/Marinette fics! I love the world here, getting to see all these different witches honing their craft, and Juleka making friends with many of them - though especially the nonwitches Kagami and Marinette, of course XD. If you like some femslash or a good fantasy AU, this fic should scratch that itch!

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Each Hum And Click by @echo-has-queries

Kagami thought her understandably high standards for a match in marriage would mean she could avoid being paired with a man by her mother. That she could keep perfecting her flying-machine skills and eventually take over her mother’s place in leading the Tsurugi steam engine manufacturing company without having to defer to a man. She would have thought that when her mother told her to test the Agreste boy as a marriage match she had been kidding - if her mother ever kid. But she was serious and there truly was no fault to be found with Gabriel Agreste's son - except for the small detail of course, that he was not human. So Kagami must turn to the only fine mechanic she knows in Paris to find a solution to this new dilemma. But perhaps the dilemma could turn out to be the solution itself. Written for the AU Roulette Challenge 2024 with the prompt: Steampunk AU

So this fic is entirely from Kagami's POV, and it is a treat! It's an Adrigaminette fic, which you slowly figure out from reading the fic, if you didn't check the tags - Kagami may have tried not to like Adrien, but he grew on her regardless, and then a few chapters in you find out about hers and Marinette's failed relationship. I loved slowly finding out why the two of them broke up, when there are clearly still strong feelings between them, and how it ties into Kagami's character arc and the overall themes of the story: standing up for yourself, breaking free from those who would control you, and forging your own path.

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All Of Them? Every Single One? by @liiinerle

It turns out that Marinette loves a lot more people than she’d initially thought.

This is hilarious and adorable. Tikki lays out how Marinette has a crush on basically every girl she’s met - and even girls she doesn’t know are girls yet XD. 

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Spin the Bottle by @kasienda

When the bottle cap comes to a stop dead center on Nino, Adrien’s both relieved and somehow more anxious. His first kiss - not his actual first kiss, but still kinda his first kiss - the first kiss he will remember, will be with someone he deeply cares about. But Adrien also cares what Nino thinks of him, so what if he’s a terrible kisser? Nino offers him a reassuring smile, and he relaxes. Adrien glances at Alya for permission, and she just shoos him towards Nino. Adrien turns to Nino, leaning closer. If his stomach had been squirming before, it now feels like a half dozen Kwamis have taken up residence in his gut. But Adrien doesn’t hesitate. He blocks out the presence of all of his friends watching, and instead focuses on Nino - like Nino is a stage partner in a photoshoot. Except kissing Nino is nothing like a photoshoot. … Adrien kisses Nino in a game of Spin the Bottle, and then neither can stop thinking about it. Alya really likes how flustered her boyfriend is by all this. Marinette though, can’t handle it and keeps running away.

This is a great Alya X Adrien X Nino X Marinette poly fic! I love them all talking out their feelings and realizing new things about themselves. Alya’s instrumental and bringing everyone together, though she, herself, is also nervous about confessing to her longstanding crush XD

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Three’s company by @torvalvt

Kagami has been doing her best for years to ignore her feelings for her friends. It doesn’t help that Adrien and Marinette insist on spending as much time as possible with her, even going so far as inviting her along on their dates together. If only the affection she felt for them wouldn’t get in the way of their relationship. Because it is growing harder and harder to tamp down her feelings with how close they are getting to her.

This is adorable. Adrien and Marinette really want Kagami to join their relationship and she just doesn’t dare hope for it. If you want some adorable Adrigaminette from Kagami’s perspective, I recommend checking this fic out!

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Chat Noir Cataclyms Hawk Moth's Balls by @a-flaming-idiot

It's what it says on the tin; Chat Noir castrates his unaware father. And at the same time, Gabriel hits a high C to shatter glass, Nathalie realizes she wasted her life, Chloe accidentally outs herself, Adrien becomes homeless, there are no more secret identities, Tikki thinks she's funny, Nino and Alya take what's their's, and Chloe finally respects another human being. And a partridge in a pear tree~

So this is a fun little crackfic! Lots of jokes and absurd scenarios, you're likely to giggle at least a few times (and hopefully several times) while reading this.

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(let me paint my skin) with your love by starnoir

Adrien blushes, looking down at his lap as his hair falls back over his nape. He shifts in his seat and finds Marinette staring at him with a sweet soft smile, and Adrien returns it. He reaches out his free hand to place on Alya and Marinette's desk, and they both latch onto it. Marinette's fingertips rest atop his own, and the green of her skin seems to glow. Alya's hand finds his wrist, rubbing small circles into his skin. "We love you, Adrien, whether your soul-marks show it or not," Nino decides, leaning back as Alya's free hand knocks off his cap and curls her fingers in his hair, the little bit that he'd begun to grow out. Adrien feels his eyes threaten to bubble over with tears, and it's just so much in one moment. Nino's knuckles on his, Marinette's fingers on his, Alya's slow circles massaged into his wrist as her hand rests on her side. "Thanks guys," he chokes, "I love you all too." And their colors seem to glow, and so do their cheeks. Or, a sweet wholesome soulmate-soulmark au about Adrien finding love after being forced to hide how big his heart was for so long.

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Getting The Gang Together by @mikauzoran

When Nino and Alya witness Ladybug and Chat Noir detransforming, they come up with a scheme to win over their crushes and create the OT4 they’ve always dreamed of.

---

The Quartet's Duet by timeandpace_lord

In which Kagami and Luka attempt to get two idiots to fall in love. Instead, four idiots realize they were already in love. Based a lot on Determination and Wishmaker specifically. ~~~ It was only a matter of time, he told himself. Sooner or later they’d stumble into the same secret he had and realize they were made for each other. And if they needed a helping hand to get there, a conductor for the symphony of their lives together, he was more than happy to take on that role. Kagami nodded firmly. She’d known that Marinette was Adrien’s true target from the beginning, but it had taken longer for her to get over her own jealousy and realize that the other girl was also the correct target. Now that she no longer had blinders on, it was obvious the two were meant to be together. If she could help them realize it, so much the better.

---

Vanilla Valentine by @talkstoself

When Adrien’s first attempt at baking Valentine Cookies for Marinette goes horribly wrong, Luka steps in to help. There’s no way this could possibly go wrong… right?

---

The Mid-Autumn Moon by AlpakaAlex

Kagami wants to do something for Marinette, but does not know whether she might be overstepping a line.

---

Worthwhile Distractions by @coffebanana

As much as Kagami loves her partners, there are some things she prefers to deal with on her own. So it's a little annoying that they won't stop fretting over her injured ankle, something she very much has under control. But when it turns out that maybe Marinette and Adrien were right that she should have taken things easy, she knows she's lucky to have them both by her side. Even if sometimes that's not so easy to admit to.

---

Blossoming by pepsiisokay

It starts with a bouquet. It ends with one too. A series of moments in which Kagami, Adrien, and Marinette realize they might just be perfect for each other.

---

Hold Me By Both Hands by @angelofthequeers

“I know he said never to take you back,” Plagg mutters. “But he’d change his tune if he knew.” He looks Adrien straight in the eye and, more serious than Adrien’s ever seen him before, says, “There’s someone you gotta meet. He’s been looking for that book for ages.” How differently might the events of season 2 have gone if Adrien had also known of Master Fu from the start?

---

sunblind by @asukiess

Adrien's newfound hobby of drawing leads to learning just how important friendship is to him. Also, he's extremely innocent.

[misguidedasgardian]

Wild Cats (part V)

V. The need

MASTERLIST

Summary: Even though you just escaped death, you couldn’t count yourselves as saved yet

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Zombie apocalypse AU, living dead, zombies, guts, blood, guns, injures, cannibalism, reader eats a squirrel (after they cooked it of course), you know what this is about.

+18, MINORS DNI

Notes: Carol gets in the mean machine a bit

You guarded them, Rick, Carl, Michonne, Tyrell, Carol, Maggie, Glenn, Sasha, Bob, Tyresse and Daryl, you kept watch as you heard them make a list of everyone that was in the prison, and everyone that was accounted for, or you guessed, didn’t make it and they saw it go down

Apparently, as Carl had told you, they had been living in a prison for half a year, it was the perfect place against the new world, you’d think, as you could easily protect it, but some psycho tried to take it over with a tank, attacking the prison, destroying it in the process, and vanishing Rick’s community from there. At some point there were like forty people living in it, and in front of you is what was left.

A haunting thought

They were seeing if there was any chance someone else might still be out there, and they got to the conclusion there wasn’t, well, except for��� Beth

She was Maggie’s younger sister and she was taken, when she was Daryl before you met him, before the thing with the claimers.

“New here too, right?”, asked Tara, you smiled and nodded, “I just met Rick, MIchonne and Carl a couple of days ago, after they escaped the prison, how about you?”, you asked her

“I was part of the group that took the prison”, she said with a horrid expression on her face. 

“Oh”, you didn’t know what to say

“Our leader lied to us, made us do it”, she said shortly. One thing you’d learn in the apocalypse, is that is was like it was in prison, you heard very few stories, and shorter ones, nobody liked to talk about “before”

You also had a good story to tell, but… alas… nobody asked you either.

“We should get going”, said Rick

“Where are we going?”, you asked softly. He looked back at you, he didn’t have a plan, neither of you did.

“For now we keep walking until we can find someone to lay low, regroup, replenish our strength”, he said, and you nodded, that sounded like a great plan, you only hoped this place existed.

You noticed something else too, Daryl was always hanging back, measuring, watching, his crossbow always ready to release. He often walked away from the group in thought, just to come back a few hours later while you walked. 

The night came quicker than you expected and to your surprise, Daryl came in with dead squirrels for dinner.

You had never eaten squirrels before.

It was… tasty, tasted like chicken. After he set a fire and cooked them himself. You always felt his eyes on you, when you looked back he seemed to be analyzing you, testing you, as you tried the squirrel and then ate it.

“Good enough for ya’?”, he asked as he munched on his

“it’s great”, you said, of course at first you were not convinced.

You couldn’t hunt for shit, and in that period when you were alone you saw some gray days, but you always managed. You had eaten so many expired canned things you were pleasantly surprised that you haven't gotten poisoned yet.

You took turns to sleep, there were fifteen of you, so you took turns. You realized that in the -adult- close circle, those being Michone, Rick, Carol, Daryl, Maggie and Glenn divided themselves into the five groups to take guards, they didn’t trust you, or the trio, or Tara more, but you understood it.

You were just almost eaten by humans who promised you sanctuary 

Daryl kept watch with you like at three AM, and also Abraham, who wouldn’t let Eugene do anything of substance.

“What did you both do before all of this?”, he asked, which wasn’t fair, it was clear what he did. You looked at Daryl who didn’t answer

“Does it really matter?”, you asked

“Hell yeah”

“What I can tell you is that I didn’t do anything special”, you said simply, “nothing that could have helped me survive this anyways”, you said quietly, but you still felt both gazes on to you, “I’m a designer mayor”, you concluded, “just finished my masters when the crap hit the fan”

“You don’t sound like you’re from around here”, he said

“I’m not”, you said, but you were not willing to answer anymore and he seemed to understand it. 

“And what about you?”, he asked Daryl in turn, you looked back at him expectantly, but he only mumbled something under his breath

“It doesn’t matter now, does it?”, you asked, “we are all different people now, and it’s not like we need CV’s”, you said softly. 

“We are going to fix this”, he said, all convinced

“That’s just bullshit man”, muttered Daryl. You didn’t want to get your hopes up, you really didn’t. A scientist that could stop this? on their way to DC with these militars? that sounded so, so strange, but again, this had become a strange world

“I can use some people like you in the team”, he said, looking at you both. Daryl just shook his head

“You said you are going to DC?”, you asked, he nodded, “how do you know someone is there still?”, finding people that had a similar plan to yours was… endearing, maybe you weren’t so wrong after all.

“Well, we did lose contact a few weeks back, but there were still people there”, he said, “the last ones standing”. Someone created this virus, you were sure of it, and as easier someone could change this back, this was a virus, you really did hope there was a way back.

Although things were irreparable now. But at least, people didn’t have to keep coming back to life as flesh-eating monsters, and furthermore, people didn’t have to keep being eaten. 

“You too”, encouraged Abraham, you raised your eyes from the fire to look at him

“Why me?”, you asked him

“I saw you wielding that ax”, he said nodding proudly, you weren’t better with an ax that Daryl was with a bow, “you both should be there when we save the world”, Daryl only chuckled, mockingly, and then stood up to go for a walk around the camp. You both joined him, because you didn’t want to have another “claimers” situation, one where the group sneaked past your round, so you went in all different directions. 

“You’re with me”, muttered Daryl, you just walked towards him silently, and submerged yourself into the woods. 

The moon helped you, also, the sky was clear so you could see once you adjusted your eyesight. You watched where you were going, last time you tripped he snapped at you, when you were slow he also snapped at you.

You got it, he was this tough, tracker, hunter guy, but still, he seemed to be always looming over you,watching your every move

You didn’t care, something made you want to please him, to prove yourself worthy to him, you didn’t know what it was.

You are focused so much in your “quickness” and being fast that you didn’t watched much when you were going, especially since it was pitch black, you tripped and fell on your face, and you would have been embarrassed, if it wasn’t because you didn’t trip because of a branch or something, something grabbed you. 

You heard the growls and you knew you were fucked, truly fucked 

“Ah!”, you screamed when you kicked and hit the walker in its face, you turned around and you could barely see the silhouette. You grabbed your ax but you were so afraid to hit yourself, it lodged in what it seemed to be it’s shoulder

You saw and heard its mouth snapping open, he was going to get you, his boney body over your other leg, not allowing you to kick him

And then, an arrow lodged itself in the middle of its forehead, stopping his movements at once.

“It’s a wonder you haven’t been killed ye”, he mumbled, coming to you, grabbing the arrow from its head, and grabbing you, getting you on your feet, “did he get ya?”, you grabbed onto him, shaking your head

“Thank you”, you said, trying to hold on into his thick arm, as you took foot on solid ground

“Be more careful will ya?”, he asked and walked away from you, releasing his hold on you. 

“Sorry”, you said, catching up to him, “thank you I thought it was gonna get me”, you were shaken up, you felt your heart thundering. He didn’t say anything as he kept walking forwards, you walked stuck to his side, creeped out of your mind. Soon your round was over and you came back to the bonfire.

You didn’t understand why Daryl was so angry at you all the time. And furthermore you didn’t understand why he was hovering over you, as he sat right by your side, and slept right by you too. He wouldn’t stop checking where you were or what you were doing, you didn’t understand at all. You stole a glance at him and saw him staring into the fire. He had some beautiful eyes… the bastard, and underneath all that wild hair… he was sort of handsome, in a… special, wild way.

He caught you staring so you looked away quickly, and soon, you woke the others up and it was your time to rest. 

. . .

The next night found you in the church of the priest you saved from three walkers. He gave you the creeps. You believed yourself to be a good judge of character and you did not like him at all, but you needed sanctuary, food, water and a plan, so you should be fine there for a couple of weeks. If Rick trusted him, so could you, besides, there was fifteen of you, and one of him.

There you had more time to get acquainted with the rest of the group. You’d learn that baby Judith was a badass, and super quiet for a baby. She was such a cute little baby. 

You’d learned so many things from the rest of the group, how Tyresse was certainly the most intimidating-looking but a gentle giant, Bob was… odd. Carol was very reserved and if Daryl gave you judging looks he’s got nothing on her. She barely even talked to you.

Eugene was a bit of a weirdo, he was, he tried to “came onto you” multiple times and you’d reject his lewd advances quickly, and Abraham and Rosita would laugh at him. It was sort of comical, he was lacking very esencial social skills. But Abraham, Eugene and a couple of more were hellbent on fixing a broken church bus to get them to DC, and the rest of you were just trying to get supplies to keep going, or figure out what to do next.

You were not impressed by the town or its surroundings, but you were asked by Rick to stay near the church with Carl, baby Judith and the others, and you did, happily.

As you had a time for yourself, you sat in one of the church’s benches and peeked at a map you had of Georgia and the surrounding states, of the plan you had made when you got out of Atlanta, of the island…

Rick sat by your side and peeked, you looked at him, he had baby Judith in his arms

“This would have come handy before”, he chided gently

“I forgot I had it, I thought it was in my backpack, but it was in one of the zippers in my jacket”, you explained softly, there was some scribbles in it, Rick read them

“What was this?”, he pointed at your “plan V”

“Plan Vacation Village”, you said, he chuckled, “it’s an island on Lake Lanier”, you said softly, he looked at you wide-eyed, “I thought to go seek refuge there, an island right? easy to protect”

“What happened?”, he asked

“Never found out”, you said sadly, “never got to”, he looked at you funny 

“This could work”, he said, “we should be close enough”

“I’m sure I’m not the only one who came to the same conclusion”, you said surely, “that islands were the safest way… it could backfire, there could be walkers trapped in there…besides, it’s big, very…”

“Maybe…”, he said. He looked ahead, at the group getting ready for dinner, “why won’t you go find Daryl and Carol? we can discuss this at dinner”, he said softly, you nodded. He treated you like you were a little girl sometimes, but… Carol and Daryl were in the watch team, they preferred it so. You walked outside and realized it was already night, pitch dark, you were going to tell Rick to fetch them yourself, you didn’t want to go at night, but there it was again, the need to prove yourself, so you went out there anyways.

You seemed to catch a glimpse of Daryl out there, so, you followed him, you didn’t want to call out for him, so you tried to move quickly. you ended up a few yards away from the church when you catched him, he was with Carol. 

“... you seemed pretty cozy with her last night… the new girl”, said Carol teasingly

“She is just another dead girl”

“Rick wants us for dinner”, you said, they both froze and looked back at you, and you cursed yourself because your voice broke in the last second

They looked back at you wide-eyed

“I walk pretty stealthy for a dead girl”, you said bitterly

They were going to answer, but the three of you almost ducked when you heard an engine, a car, it passed right by you, it was black, Daryl went out of his way to catch a glimpse of it, and when he did, he was quick to grab the bow and smashed the back lights of the car they were preparing

“What are you doing!?”, asked Carol 

“That’s the car that took Beth!”, he said quickly, “get in! Both of you!”, he said, and wouldn’t take no for an answer 

“What?”, you asked, but they both jumped in, and rather than being out here alone, with a sigh, you jumped into the car too. 

Damn you and your need to prove yourself. 

[fratboykate]

Okay woahhh!! What was Yelena’s reaction to the interview? Something tells me she’ll be a little bit pissed/guarded at first? Cuz why after all this time is Kate saying that on tv and not to her? Or is Kate just so hot in the interview cuz I get it, Yelena is only human. Is she not with Monica anymore at this point? How do they break up? I am foaming at the mouth. BG wasn’t even my favorite AU of yours but your obsession with it has roped me in and now it’s haunting my every thought!!!

oh boy Yelena is not going to be happy is she. I do not see this confrontation ending well. we technically still have one year left sooo 👀👀👀

//-\\

Here's 4.8k of...yeah...lol

---

Yelena wakes before the sun.

The alarm buzzes at 4:30AM, low and discreet, just enough to rouse her without disturbing the body taking up the other half of the bed. The room is still. Painted in shadows. She lies for a moment, eyes open, listening. The hush of the house. The distant bark of a dog. The slow, even rhythm of breath beside her.

Jemma Simmons is sprawled on her stomach, one arm slung across Yelena’s ribs, the other tucked beneath the pillow. Brown hair tousled, fanned across the mattress. Yelena’s old t-shirt bunched high on her thigh and one bare shoulder exposed in the faint moonlight. Cheek pressed into the sheets, lips parted.

Yelena moves carefully. Untangles. Rolls free of the blankets with precision. Her feet hit the floorboards exactly where they always do. The floor is cold. It doesn’t bother her.

Jemma shifts. Her breathing changes, but she doesn’t wake. Yelena glances back once. She lets herself look.

Then she moves. Like a soldier. She dresses in the dark. Sports bra, sweats, old sneakers. Pulls her hair into a tight braid.

///

Her gym downstairs is state-of-the-art, and already humming to life by 4:42. Protein powder, filtered water, a banana she hates but forces down. She moves through the space in silence. Reps, sets, pull-ups. Bag work. Fifteen minutes on the rowing machine. Her bra darkens with perspiration. Sweat beads at the small of her back. Her skin glows with heat.

She trains in silence. No music. Just the rhythm of her breath and the soft clack of weights, the churn of the treadmill, the occasional grunt as she pushes through a last set.

Two scars catch the overhead light when she rotates. One beneath her ribs. One under her clavicle. Clean entry wounds. Clean exits. Two bullets she never dodged. Both taken for the same woman.

She doesn’t think about that anymore.

///

By 5:30 she’s got a second protein shake in one hand and a phone in the other. Her Bluetooth buds are in. She’s halfway through a video call with her team in Tokyo while simultaneously scanning an incident report from a venue in São Paulo. One of her clients, a pop star barely old enough to rent a car, had a stalker get too close during a meet and greet. The guy was apprehended. Security held. But Yelena still rips into them in two separate languages.

Her phone pings. Updates from the London team. A CEO’s daughter got spooked mid-vacation. Wants her detail reassessed before the next stop. Yelena sends a voice note:

“Pull Rollins and Falsworth from the production in South Africa, reassign them to her. Put two advance on the ground. Sweep the primary lodging top to bottom before touchdown. Perimeter, locks, staff, and adjacent units. If anything’s off, scrap it. Have her team relocate her. Give them options we’ve already cleared on previous runs.”

///

Yelena showers at 7:00 sharp. The water runs hot. She leans into it. Eyes closed. Head tilted back. Steam curling to her skin. She exhales slowly, centering herself.

When she steps out, towel slung low, Jemma’s already up…propped against pillows, tablet in hand, glasses slipping down her nose.

“You’re terrifying when you talk logistics,” Jemma murmurs without looking up.

“Did I wake you up?” Yelena asks, toweling off.

“Sort of. They must’ve fucked up bad.”

“They let someone on our watch list get close enough to grab a mic stand. Should’ve never made it past secondary. I have no patience for bullshit mistakes.”

Jemma looks over her glasses. Smirks.

“You’re sexy when you’re bossy.”

Yelena’s eyebrows lift. A hum, deep in her throat. Yelena climbs back into bed. Jemma tugs the towel loose from Yelena’s body.

"Yeah?"

Jemma tosses the tablet aside. “Yeah.”

Jemma pulls her in by the wrist. Kisses her slow. Familiar. Body still warm from sleep, tongue lazy and teasing. What follows isn’t rushed. It’s the opposite. Familiar. Slow. Hands tracing territory already claimed. Jemma mouths at the edge of one scar. Then the other. Yelena doesn’t stop her. They move together like people who’ve mapped and memorized each other’s bodies. Grounded. The rhythm easy, natural, no fumbling. No urgency. Just heat and trust and skin.

Jemma rolls on top. Yelena lets her.

///

A faint gold glow across the sheets. The sun’s high in the sky by the time it ends. Jemma sprawled half on top of her. Yelena’s hands threaded in her hair. Their breaths syncing again. Jemma pulls back, eyes still heavy.

“You’re not as scary in the morning as you pretend to be.”

“Not with you…But I can be if you want me to.”

“You can be mean to me tonight.” Jemma says playfully.

Yelena smiles, hums.

“Do I have to wait?”

Jemma shakes her head no. Yelena grins, rolls them over. Her turn to be on top.

///

By 8:30 they’re barefoot in the kitchen. Yelena makes omelets. Jemma handles coffee. Jemma insists on grapefruit today. Yelena grimaces through it.

The news plays softly in the background. Jemma leans against the counter in one of Yelena’s hoodies, texting someone from the lab. There’s laughter. Eye contact. Shared glances over mugs of coffee. There’s a rhythm to the way they move. Brushing shoulders, grazing knuckles as they pass plates around, things handed over before the other even asks. A domesticity that used to feel foreign and now just…is.

They talk about scheduling. About whose turn it is to pick up the dry cleaning. About a conference Jemma’s supposed to fly out for next month. About someone needing to make a toilet paper run.

It’s solid. Happy. The kind of quiet, stable, good that doesn’t have to declare itself out loud. Normal in a way Yelena never imagined for herself.

They’re talking about kids. Not casually. Not vaguely. Not someday. Not maybe. Real conversations. Late at night. About timelines. About space. About where the nursery would go. Maybe Yelena has to live without an office? Yelena never thought she’d want that. Now it’s all she can think about.

Jemma leans in to kiss her goodbye. Then leans in again, just because.

///

At 9AM, Yelena’s at HQ. Her office is in West Hollywood. Sleek, secure, top floor of a building she now owns. Her firm’s name is not on the directory. On purpose.

Inside: organized chaos. A war room humming with screens, feeds, overlapping time zones. Field teams repporting in. Voices cutting in over comms.

She moves through it like this is her kingdom. It is.

Conference calls. Secure transfers. Clearance checks. She personally interviews a last-minute hire because the background check smells off. She wasn’t wrong.

By noon she’s reviewed three clients’ travel itineraries, coordinated a security sweep for a private retreat in Napa, and told a Netflix VP to fire an entire on-site detail after a leak to TMZ.

Her clients are all famous. Or rich. Or both. People who live under glass and pretend they don’t feel the heat through it. Her day is tour schedules, film sets, and paparazzi choke points. Yelena makes sure they’re protected. She sees the threats no one else does. She’s not the kind of CEO who delegates and disappears. She’s hands-on. Present. Sharp enough to catch shit before it happens.

She handles it all with crisp efficiency, reading off her tablet while pacing the length of her office.

When an intern knocks, Yelena doesn’t stop moving.

“Double espresso,” Yelena says.

“Of course,” the girl stammers. “Your mother called. Said she’ll meet you at the café. Said you’ll know which one.”

Yelena nods. Doesn’t look up. The girl vanishes.

///

At 2PM, she meets her mother for lunch.

They always pick the same place. A quiet Russian café tucked into a side street in Culver City. No signage in English. Chairs that creak when you shift your weight. Melina likes it because “the pelmeni still taste like home.”

The waitstaff knows them. Yelena doesn’t need a menu. Orders on autopilot. They share everything.

Melina arrives in sunglasses, hair pulled back, posture queen-straight. She slides a plate across the table. Pickled vegetables, black bread, fresh dill. Always the same.

“I’m not dead yet,” she says when Yelena raises an eyebrow. “You should still eat.”

They do. They gossip. Melina tells a scandalous story about her neighbor’s new pool boy. Yelena rolls her eyes and snorts into her tea.

Then Melina tilts her head. Watches her. Smiles.

“You are different. Less…angry.”

“I’m too old for angry.” Yelena argues with a laugh.

“It suits you.” Yelena shrugs, not quite denying it. “She is good for you.” Melina adds, casual but direct. “Are you going to do it?”

“What?”

“The baby.”

Yelena sips her tea. Lets the steam fog her sunglasses for a moment before she answers.

“We’re talking about it.” A pause. Then, Yelena speaks again. A quiet admission that comes with a small smile. “More than talking…We made the appointment.”

Melina stills. Her fork pauses mid-air. Then she smiles, not just with her mouth, but fully, deeply, and reaches across the table. Squeezes Yelena’s hand. Once. Firm.

“You will be great mother.”

“Nothing’s happened yet.” Yelena deflects. “We’re keeping expectations low. It might be a while.”

Melina nods but doesn’t let go of her hand. Yelena hesitates. Her voice goes even lower, less certain:

“She wants to get married.”

Melina lifts a brow. “And?”

“I just…” Melina waits. “Not again, you know? I don’t have it in me again. But she wants it. And if we’re bringing a kid into this, maybe it shouldn’t matter what I want.”

Melina looks at her. Really looks.

“It matters,” Melina argues. “But so does being honest about what you are capable of giving.”

Yelena nods. Drains the rest of her tea. Doesn’t say more.

///

Yelena gets home just after seven.

Dinner’s already on. The house smells like garlic and lemon and butter and something roasted. Jemma’s in the kitchen. Hair twisted up, dancing barefoot in an oversized t-shirt as she stirs something fragrant.

Music plays low. Wine waits on the counter, half-poured. The scene is stupidly homely. Lovely in a way that used to scare her.

Jamma sings a few lines under her breath. Yelena pads up behind her. Wraps her arms around her waist. Kisses the side of her neck. Says nothing.

They take advantage of the nice weather and eat on the patio. The city hums around them. Legs are tangled under the chairs. No makeup. No rush. No pretense. Just clinking forks, passing glances, chuckles. Just this. Just them.

“Thoughts on Phil if it’s a boy,” Jemma tosses out between bites, clearly joking.

“Only if his middle name is Jerome.”

“Absolutely not.”

///

After dinner, they curl into the plush couch.

Jemma picks a documentary. Some Midwest cold case. It’s her thing. Yelena’s already internally mocking but tolerating for the sake of harmony. Her hand drapes on Jemma’s thigh. They’re warm. Safe. Quiet.

Jemma throws a blanket over them both. Mutters theories under her breath about the murder weapon. Yelena hums in vague agreement and half-listens as she curls against Jemma, tablet in hand, scrolling through reports.

///

Half an hour in, her phone buzzes.

Once. Then again. Then a flood. A dozen times in under a minute. Texts, calls, group chat pings, Instagram tags. Her lock screen is a storm.

Melina: “Are you seeing this?”

Friend: “stay off twitter”

Yelena frowns, confused. Jemma’s phone lights up too. She checks a message. Her expression shifts.

Instinct tells Yelena she should not stay off Twitter. The minute she opens the app…Her name is trending. So is Kate’s. It takes three seconds to find the clip.

Are you still IN LOVE with her? Yes…I’ll always love her.

The quote’s everywhere. Block-lettered across screenshots. Sliced into reaction edits. Millions of views. Millions more to come.

Yelena doesn’t move. Jemma looks over. Concerned. Quiet.

“You okay?”

Yelena stares at the screen. Then sets the phone down, walks into the kitchen, and pours a glass of water she doesn’t touch.

“You want to talk about it?” Jemma follows, voice soft.

“No.”

Yelena leans against the counter. Arms crossed. Jaw set. Silent. She doesn’t go back to the couch. Doesn’t finish the documentary. Jemma leaves her be.

///

Yelena doesn’t sleep. Not a minute.

Jemma dozes off sometime after midnight, warm against Yelena's back. But Yelena just lies there. Staring at the ceiling. Jaw clenched. Mind racing.

The clock hits 2:04 AM.

Then 3:17.

Yelena reaches for her phone. Notifications are still coming in. She clears them, texts Alexei.

Yelena: Were you on set for the interview?

She gets an instant reply.

Alexei: yes

Yelena: Why didn’t you warn me?

Alexei: not my place. and u would have avoided it. u needed to hear

Yelena stares at the screen. Doesn’t type anything else. She sets the phone down, turns it over on the nightstand. Lies back, eyes wide open. Jemma shifts in her sleep, reaching for her in the dark.

Yelena doesn't avoid her sleepy grip. She closes her eyes. Sleep never comes.

///

The morning after the interview, Yelena and Jemma open the front door and see hell.

Kate has the gates, the security booth, the ten-foot walls. Yelena has a quiet house on a regular block. Open driveway. Clear line of sight. She now realizes…too late…that was a catastrophic security oversight.

Because the second the door swung open, the flashes exploded.

A wall of paparazzi stands at the edge of her property. Lenses already lifted. At least twenty deep. The sound of shutters like a swarm of mechanical insects. Low murmurs crest into shouts. A few push forward into the hedges. One jackass calls, “Smile for Kate!” like he thinks he’s clever.

Yelena levels him with a stare that could shatter concrete.

Jemma pauses mid-step, briefcase in hand, frozen in the threshold. Yelena pulls her back inside. She rams the door shut, thinks for a beat, then steps directly in front of her.

“Stay behind me.” Yelena orders, tense.

Jemma nods. Offers a comforting smile. Calm.

“Are you gonna bodyguard me? Hot.”

Yelena can’t bring herself to smile back. She grabs Jemma’s hand, swings the door open, and charges straight into the circus. She pushes through them, fury in every step.

Yelena hears a loud whirr. Glances up…A fucking drone? Seriously?!

The shouting intensifies. Questions are barked in three languages. About the interview. About Kate. About the marriage. About whether she’s seen it. What she thought.

Yelena shouts over them, commanding.

“BACK. THE. FUCK. UP.”

The words crack, loud and lethal. It lands. The front row jolts. Cameras lower. They’re not dealing with some delicate publicist or panicked assistant. They weren’t expecting a guard dog with high cheekbones. It buys Yelena a five-second window.

Yelena clears the path in three steps. She yanks open Jemma’s door and shields her as she slides in. Then she leans into the car.

“Take the canyon route. Don’t stop. I’ll have guys waiting at your office.”

Jemma squeezes Yelena’s hand. Yelena steals a kiss. Fast, intimate, tired. The flashes catch it from five angles.

“Be safe.” Jemma urges, soft.

Yelena shuts the door, turns. Her eyes say 'don’t even think about it'. The photographers part. She watches Jemma’s car vanish down the street. Then, without a glance back, she walks inside and slams the door.

///

Ten minutes later, Yelena is behind the wheel. Driving to Calabasas. To Kate.

By the time she gets there, she’s boiling hot.

If her house was bad, Kate’s is a siege. Kate’s street looks like a premiere. Cars double-parked. Photographers pacing. Reporters waiting with notepads in hand. Lenses glint like sniper scopes. Everyone is hunting for a quote, a sighting, a slip.

They’re not at the door…her team’s trained too well for that…but they’re everywhere else.

Her guys clock her immediately. One steps out of the gate and gives a silent nod. She rolls the window down just enough.

“If anyone breaches, I want them face-down on the pavement.”

He nods. Awkward.

Inside, the tension’s thick enough to choke on. Every single person on the property has at least seen The Clip. Everyone knows what Kate said.

And now Yelena’s here.

She feels the change as she rides up. Eyes flick toward her then back away. No one on shift makes a peep. No one has to.

Not a word is spoken when Yelena charges right up to the door and simply…….walks in. No knocking. No announcing herself. Just straight in.

///

Yelena storms down the hall. Her boots crush the floor, every step echoing like a war drum. She storms past the framed art, the grand piano, the little touches she picked out back when this house still felt theirs.

Kate leans out of the kitchen, dish towel in hand, confusion clouding her features. Then she sees her. Sees the fervor in her eyes. The rage in her stance. Sees the way Yelena is coming directly at her like a missile. Kate doesn’t even get to speak.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” She snarls. “There’s a sea of paps outside my house.” Kate opens her mouth, but Yelena’s already steamrolling her. “They’re camped outside my driveway. I had to scream just so Jem…so my girlfriend could back out without getting blinded. They’re hounding my office. My mother, Kate. My mother. Have you looked outside? I’m going to have to double your detail.”

Kate leans against the counter. Calm. Irritatingly so. Her smirk is soft, not smug.

“Not exactly what I thought you’d be worried about.”

Wrong answer. The fucking audacity. Yelena’s voice booms, points hard enough to jab the air.

“You think this is funny?”

“No.”

“You don’t get to do this. You don’t get to blow up my life because you’re feeling reflective on camera.”

“I’m not trying to blow up your life.” Kate retorts, maddeningly even.

“You’re a goddamn bomb, Kate.”

“And you used to love that.”

“Fucking Christ.”

“I didn’t plan for it to happen like this.”

“Didn’t plan for it?! You sat on global television and told the entire world you’re still in love with me.”

“Because I am.” Kate’s eyes don’t waver.

The silence that follows is knife-edged. Then Yelena laughs. Bitter. Humorless.

“You really think you can just say that and what…I’ll fall into your arms? That’s not how this works.” Yelena’s eyes flash. Her chest rises and falls too fast.

“I don’t want to unravel your life. I want you to live it. With me.” Kate steps forward. Not threatening. Just certain.

“You can’t say that.” Yelena snaps.

“It’s the truth.”

“I built something. Piece by piece. A good life. Really fucking good, Kate. I earned the peace. I earned the quiet. And you…YOU…don’t get to show up and set it on fire.”

“You did earn that.”

“Don’t fucking patronize me.”

“I’m not. I want that peace for you. I just want to be part of it.”

“Fuck you.”

“I meant what I said.” Kate steps closer.

“You always do. You just never care what it costs. You pull the pin, walk away smiling, then act surprised when the room explodes.”

“I didn’t walk away. I’m right here.”

“That’s your problem. It’s always Kate’s fucking world. Kate’s fucking timing. You get to decide when it matters. And the rest of us just have to fall in line. What did you think was going to happen? Huh? I’d come running? You think I’d what…drop everything because you got brave ten years too late?”

“I just want you to come home. Because I never stopped loving you. And you never stopped loving me.”

Yelena’s eyes narrow. Her breathing sharpens. But she doesn’t move.

“You have no clue how I feel.”

Kate steps forward again.

“You think I haven’t tried to be happy for you?” Closer. “That I haven’t wanted to call every single day?”

Another step. Yelena backs off. Once. Kate keeps moving. They’re only inches apart now. This time, Yelena doesn’t move. She holds her ground. Kate lifts her hands. Reverent. She cradles Yelena’s face like it’s breakable.

“I fucked up,” Kate’s voice is steady. Assured. “I fucked up when I let you walk out of that trailer. When I didn’t fight. When I let you not talk to me. When I signed the papers. I thought it was the right thing. The respectful thing. Letting you go. I was wrong. I’ve always been wrong.”

Kate’s thumb brushes the edge of Yelena’s cheekbone. Then her jaw. The same touch she’s carried in memory for almost a decade. Her voice is quiet.

Yelena’s breath is warm. Close. Kate’s eyes dart to her lips. Yelena shoves her and her hands away.

“I’m not a fucking cheater.”

“I never said you were.”

“You need to fuck off.” Yelena hurries toward the door. Then whirls around double speed. Right up to Kate. “We’re going in for an IVF consult next week. We’re having a baby. You don’t get to come back and play emotional goddamn chicken with my life.”

“Do it with me. Have a baby with me.” Kate’s voice doesn’t waver. Not an inch.

Yelena stares like she’s just been stabbed. She backs off. Puts distance between them.

“Are you fucking insane?”

“I’ve never felt clearer actually.”

“You’re actually deranged.”

“I want everything we talked about. The family. The life. The future. All of it. I meant it then. I still do.”

“You’ve lost your mind.”

“No, I'm just...stupidly in love with you.”

“You’re fired.” Yelena hisses. Her whole body shakes with rage. “Hire new security. We’ll cover you through the end of the month. After that? I’m done. Forever. And don’t even try the whole ‘I won’t hire anyone else’ martyr bullshit. I don’t care what happens to you.”

Yelena doesn’t wait for a response. Kate doesn’t stop Yelena when she walks. She doesn’t chase. Doesn’t beg.

Yelena slams the door behind her so hard it rattles the windows.

///

Yelena drives.

For hours. All day. She doesn’t shed a single tear. Doesn’t scream. Just asphalt. Just motion. Her face is blank. Cold. Her phone never stops. Calls. Texts. Voicemails. Emails. Work. Jemma. Melina. Alexei. All ignored.

There’s no destination. Just an engine and the battle in her head. Only the hum of tires and the echo of Kate’s voice reverberating in her skull.

Mulholland. Malibu. Some overlook above Silver Lake. The sprawl of the city in her mirrors. Sunset fading in streaks of blood and brass. Then darkness. A canyon. A park she doesn’t remember pulling into. Then the coast again. Hands locked at ten and two like it’s the only thing keeping her stitched together.

At a red light somewhere above the PCH, she finally pulls over.

The sky is ink. The city below flickers, careless and endless. Her car idles. She sits motionless, elbows braced on the wheel, breath shallow. Her hands tremble. The ache in her chest is a vice, slow and relentless. Yelena stares out at the glittering horizon. The city looks like nothing. Like it doesn’t mean shit.

She huffs. Hard. And then the thought crashes in.

What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck

Her grip tightens. White-knuckled. Like she can hold herself together with ire and tension alone.

Her phone vibrates again. She finally picks it up. Swipes without purpose. Just for distraction. She doesn’t mean to open the photos app. Doesn’t even remember tapping it. But suddenly, there it is.

She scrolls. Fast at first. Past the week. Past the month. Smiling selfies. Sunlight on Jemma’s cheekbones. Beach trips. Work events. Proof of a full life. A real one. She scrolls faster.

Past Jemma. Past Monica. Past everyone in between. She scrolls too far. Then slower. Then she stops. There they are.

Not the posed photos. Not red carpets. Not glossy magazine spreads. The real ones.

Kate asleep on a private jet, atop Yelena’s lap in a hoodie and socks, script wrinkled on her chest. Mouth slightly open. Hair a mess.

Kate cross-legged on their old kitchen floor…no, HER kitchen. Kate’s. Laughing at something offscreen, eyes shining, cheeks flushed, in sweatpants and no makeup.

A blurry video. Kate dancing to her worst single. Truly godawful. Fucking atrocious. Yelena hates every bit of it. Still…she sings the lyrics with Kate. Off-key. Terrible. Glorious. Yelena’s laugh behind the camera is breathless. She forgot that laugh existed. The one she only ever made for Kate.

These aren’t memories. They’re proof.

Yelena scrolls more. Finds a photo she doesn’t even remember taking. Kate in bed. Tank top. One knee bent. No makeup. Hair tousled. A smile that’s all teeth and trouble. That look. Straight into the lens. Direct. Dangerous. Looking at her.

The air leaves her lungs like a body blow.

“Fuck.”

It’s not that she still loves Kate. It’s that she never stopped.

Yelena locks the screen. Drops the phone onto the passenger seat. Drives.

///

By the time she walks into the house, it’s nearly midnight.

The lights are low. The smell of rosemary and onion lingers in the air. The table’s still set. Candles unlit. Plates untouched. Dinner cold.

Yelena stands in the doorway like a stranger. Jemma sits on the couch in leggings and an old MIT sweatshirt. A wine bottle stands empty beside her.

Yelena meets her eyes. Opens her mouth. Nothing comes out. Then the tears hit. It happens without warning. Her face collapses. Her knees almost go. Jemma is up in an instant. Wraps her arms around her. No questions. No hesitation.

“It’s okay.”

“I’m sorry,” Yelena sobs. “I’m so sorry.” She repeats it like a mantra. Over and over. Jemma holds her tighter. “I’m sorry, Jem.”

Jemma pulls back. Hands on Yelena’s face. Her eyes glassy. Her touch careful.

“You don’t have to apologize.” Jemma's voice doesn’t tremble. Her hands do. “I always knew what I was fighting against.”

Yelena chokes, shakes her head. Sinks into Jemma. The weight of everything slams into her at once. Jemma catches her like she always has.

“It was real. I meant it.”

“I know…I know.”

“I didn’t want this.”

Jemma’s voice is shaky now. Her arms tighten around Yelena’s body like she can hold her intact.

“I love you,” Jemma whispers.

Yelena nods, broken. Because she does too. That’s what kills her. Jemma presses her lips to Yelena’s forehead. No bitterness. No anger. No blame. Just love.

“If I have to lose you…” Jemma tries to smile. “…it might as well be to the most famous woman on the planet.” Jemma forces levity but her voice cracks, betraying her. “I’m not sorry it’s to her. I know she’s the only one who ever could.”

Yelena folds. Collapses into Jemma. Lets the grief break her open.

///

Yelena glides into Kate’s property sometime after 3AM. She doesn’t remember getting in the car. Doesn’t remember turning on the ignition. She just...did.

The gate opens. She didn’t even ask. Her nightshift guy clocks her face, says nothing, just hits the button.

Yelena parks on the long, winding drive. The engine rumbles. She doesn’t cut it. She doesn’t move. She presses her head to the headrest. Her pulse thuds in her ears.

The lights are on upstairs. A shadow passes in front of the window. The porch glows golden. Like it’s waiting.

She stops the engine. Sits in the dark. Breath loud in the silence. Her bloodstream pounding. The imprint of Jemma’s hand still lingers on her cheek. Her chest still aches from sobbing. Her back still braced like it might snap in two.

But she opens the door anyway. Not because she’s forgiven. Not because she’s decided. Not because she knows what she’s doing. Because she doesn’t know how to stop herself from moving. Because she doesn’t know how to not.

This time she doesn’t barge in.

Yelena walks the path. Up the steps. Hands cold. No anger now. Just…something hollow.

She rings the bell.

Hears rushed footsteps on stairs. Her heart jumps, tries to climb out of her throat. She sees the movement through the glass. Knew it was coming. Still not ready.

The door opens.

And there Kate is.

They look at each other. No words yet. But everything’s already different.

[soakedstar]

｡･ﾟﾟ･ 𓆩★𓆪 𝙖𝙡𝙞𝙚𝙣 𝙙𝙤𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙤𝙧𝙮 𓆩★𓆪･ﾟﾟ･｡

(2/2)

Part 1

✦ synopsis:

a rooftop encounter.

she sketches herself like a creature.

he sees aliens in everything,

especially her.

✦ pairing:

jake x f!reader (college au)

✦ warnings:

explicit content (18+), oral sex (f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, mention of squirting, discussion of disordered eating, body image issues

Jake:

hey

I was thinking maybe tomorrow

if you’re not busy

I could show you something kind of weird

not like weird-weird

just like space weird

it’s this machine I built to track electromagnetic pulses

like possible alien activity lol

I swear it’s cooler than it sounds

or maybe it’s not but I still think it’s cool

and I thought of you cause you know

you draw them

and also I like talking to you

and maybe we could hang?

no pressure if you don’t want to

anyway yeah

okay shutting up now

He read it back. Flinched.

“God. No.”

He deleted it.

Typed again. Shorter this time.

Jake:

hey

would you maybe wanna come over tomorrow?

I have this weird little alien thing I wanna show you

and also I just wanna see you again

totally casual

unless you want it to be not casual

up to you lol

He hesitated. Then pressed send.

Immediately covered his face with his hands.

“Why do I always sound like a malfunctioning chatbot?”

The reply came faster than he expected.

Y/N:

alien thing?

I’m in.

send the address

Jake stared at the screen.

Then smiled. Wide.

Then walked the rest of the way home grinning like an idiot.

Jake stood by the door, bouncing on his heels. When the doorbell rang, he practically jumped.

He opened it fast, wide-eyed, holding the frame like it was keeping him upright.

“Hey,” he said. “You found it okay?”

Y/N nodded. “Your directions were… aggressively detailed.”

“Well, I didn’t want you to get lost near that creepy 24/7 laundromat. It eats people.”

She stepped inside. The house was small but cozy. Shoes by the door, a stack of mail on a side table, and faint music coming from an old speaker in the living room. The kitchen light was on.

“No one home?” she asked.

“My mom’s out,” Jake said quickly, shutting the door. “She’s at some faculty thing. Probably arguing with physicists who hate aliens. She thinks I’m ridiculous. She’s sweet about it, though.”

“You live with your mom?”

“Yeah,” he said, not embarrassed. “It’s temporary. And she makes really good spaghetti.”

Y/N smiled. The place felt real. Lived-in. A little messy in a human way.

Jake led her toward the hallway and opened the door to his room.

Inside: posters of the solar system, messy bookshelves, a string of fairy lights shaped like stars, and a desk overtaken by gadgets and wires. A stack of journals and diagrams covered the nightstand. The bed was half-made, like he’d tried and then gave up.

“Wow,” she said. “You’re even nerdier than I thought.”

“Thanks,” Jake said proudly, walking straight to his desk. “Okay, so—this is what I wanted to show you.”

He pointed to a strange-looking machine with blinking red and green lights, something hooked up to an old laptop and a half-melted circuit board.

“It’s a modified electromagnetic pulse scanner. Detects low-frequency anomalies. Some people think aliens communicate that way or that they interfere with natural frequencies. I’ve been testing it for like six months.”

She walked closer, looking at the lights.

“Does it work?”

“Sometimes it picks up your neighbor’s microwave, but there was this one night during the Perseids when I got a pulse so clean I thought I was gonna faint. Look, I wrote it down—”

He grabbed a notebook, flipping through pages with frantic energy.

“Jake,” she said gently.

He stopped. Looked at her.

She was standing still, hands in the pockets of her jacket, eyes soft. There was something in her face like she was trying to keep herself from sinking.

“I didn’t come to see the alien thing.”

He blinked. “Oh.”

“I came because I wanted to be near you.”

He froze.

“Like… in general? Or just today? Or—”

She stepped closer. “Don’t make me regret saying it.”

He smiled, nervous.

“I won’t. I swear. I just… didn’t think you felt that way.”

“I didn’t either,” she admitted. “Until I did. And now I can’t stop.”

She looked around the room again.

“This place is so you. It smells like wires and… cereal.”

“I had Lucky Charms for lunch,” he said.

She bit back a smile. Then she sat on his bed.

He sat beside her, not too close.

“Jake,” she said slowly. “Can I ask you something kind of heavy?”

“Yeah. Always.”

She looked at her hands.

“Do you think someone can love you so much it makes you forget how much you hate yourself?”

Jake’s throat tightened. He didn’t know the right answer. So he said the truth.

“I don’t know if it works like that. But I think… I think love can make the pain quieter. And if you let me—I want to be part of that quiet.”

She looked up at him.

“Do you want me, Jake?”

“I’ve been trying not to say it because I didn’t want to scare you. But yes. So much it’s stupid.”

She exhaled, shaking.

“Then show me.”

He kissed her slowly, tenderly, his lips warm and sure. Not rushed. Not desperate. Just full. Full of everything he couldn’t put into words.

When they broke apart, he whispered, “Take this off for me.” His hands ghosted over the hem of her shirt.

She nodded and undressed, shyly, piece by piece. He didn’t rush her. He just watched. And smiled. Not a cocky smile—something softer. Something reverent.

“You’re so beautiful it makes my chest hurt,” he said, breath catching when her bra hit the floor. “Every inch of you. I don’t care what you see in the mirror. This?” He cupped her cheek. “This is perfect to me.”

He undressed too, slowly, making sure she saw him. Nothing hidden. Nothing forced.

When they were both bare, he guided her gently to the bed and laid her down, crawling over her with his hands braced on either side of her head.

“I want to take my time,” he said. “You’re not a quick fuck. You’re not something I’m just trying to get off on. I want you to feel how much I love you with every second of this.”

He kissed her neck, then her collarbones, then lower his mouth trailing down her chest, licking and kissing each breast like he was savoring her. She arched into him, and he groaned, his fingers tracing lazy lines over her sides.

“You don’t know what you do to me,” he murmured against her skin. “I think about you constantly. Not just sex. You. Your laugh. The way you bite your lip when you’re nervous.”

His hand slid between her legs and found her already wet. He smiled against her stomach. “God. Look at you. You want me this bad, huh?”

She nodded, face flushed, heart racing.

Jake kissed her inner thigh, then looked up at her.

“I’m gonna make you cum on my tongue first. You’re not allowed to talk shit about yourself after that, got it?”

He lowered his mouth and licked her gently at first, savoring her. When she gasped, he gripped her hips and went harder, more focused, his tongue moving in slow, perfect circles on her clit, then dipping down to taste her deeper.

“Jake—” she moaned. “I—fuck—”

“Cum for me,” he said against her. “Let go. Let me take care of you.”

Her orgasm came in waves, thighs trembling around his head. He didn’t stop until she pulled his hair, overwhelmed.

When he crawled back up, he kissed her softly. “You okay?”

She nodded, breathless. “That was…”

“Only the beginning,” he whispered, brushing hair out of her face.

He lined himself up with her and paused, eyes on hers. “I’m gonna go slow. You feel too good to rush.”

He pushed in slowly, watching her face the entire time. Her eyes fluttered closed, her mouth falling open.

“Eyes on me, baby,” he said, soft but firm. “I want you to see how I look at you when I’m inside you.”

She looked. And what she saw broke something in her how much he wanted her, yes, but more than that: how much he cherished her.

He started to move long, deep thrusts, his hips rolling into hers with care and control. Every time she gasped, he kissed her. Every time she moaned, he whispered, “That’s it. Just like that. You’re doing so good for me.”

Their bodies moved together perfectly. No rush. No pressure. Just the sound of skin, breath, love.

When she clenched around him, close again, he cupped her face and said, “You’re gonna cum again, and I’m gonna watch you. I want to see how you look when you’re falling apart for me.”

And she did. With a cry, with tears in her eyes, with her body shaking under his.

Jake held her through it, slowed down just enough for her to breathe.

Then he groaned, low and shaky. “I’m close. Where do you want it?”

“Inside,” she whispered. “Please.”

That made him lose it. He thrust deeper, harder, still full of care, but desperate now. “I love you,” he said, again and again. “I love you. I love you.”

When he came, it was with his whole body. He gasped her name like a prayer and buried himself deep as he spilled inside her, shaking from the intensity.

They lay tangled together, his chest against hers, his face buried in her neck.

And then, after a long, quiet pause:

“You don’t ever have to be perfect for me,” he said. “You just have to be you. That’s enough. That’s always been enough.”

Her fingers gripped his arm. “I don’t believe it yet.”

“I know,” he said. “That’s why I’m gonna remind you. As many times as it takes.”

Jake was still inside her, bodies pressed close, both of them breathing hard. The air was thick with sweat, skin, and everything unspoken. He kissed her shoulder, then her cheek, then her jaw soft little kisses, like he couldn’t stop.

“You’re amazing,” he whispered. “I wish you could feel what I feel when I look at you.”

She didn’t answer, just pulled him closer. Her body was buzzing, but something in her wanted more. Wanted to see how far she could go with him. How far he could take her.

“Jake,” she murmured, “don’t stop.”

His head lifted. “You want more?”

She nodded, eyes glassy. “I—I want to feel everything.”

Jake’s gaze changed. From tender to focused in a second. “Yeah?” he said, voice low. “You want to let go completely, baby?”

“Yes. Please.”

He pulled out slowly, groaning at the loss of her warmth, then moved down her body again kissing her belly, her thighs, until he was face-to-face with her pussy.

He looked up at her. “Don’t hold back. Not for me. Not for anyone.”

He started licking her again but this time it was different. More intense. More pressure. His mouth was everywhere, messy, open, worshipping her with every movement. His fingers slid back inside her, pumping hard, deep, curling up just right.

He kept his mouth on her clit, sucking hard while his fingers moved fast.

“Jake—” she gasped. “Fuck, Jake—wait—something—something’s happening—”

He didn’t stop. He knew. He felt it. Her thighs were shaking uncontrollably, her whole body tensing.

“I got you,” he said, voice full of pride. “Come on, baby. Let it happen. Don’t fight it.”

Then her body snapped. She cried out, loud and broken, as liquid sprayed out of her, soaking his hand, his face, the sheets. She came harder than she ever had, back arching completely off the bed.

Jake froze for a second. Stared.

“What the—” he whispered. “Did you just—?”

He blinked, eyes wide in shock and awe, and then grinned like a kid who just saw an alien land in his backyard.

“Oh my God,” he said, breathless. “You just squirted.”

Y/N was dazed, blushing, trying to catch her breath. “I—I didn’t know I could—”

Jake looked amazed. Still holding her thighs open, still drenched, and absolutely fascinated.

“That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my fucking life,” he said, half-laughing in disbelief. “Like—are you okay? Do you feel okay? Because I’m about to pass out from how perfect that was.”

She covered her face, overwhelmed. “I’m sorry—”

“Don’t you dare apologize,�� he said instantly, crawling up over her. His face was glowing with pure admiration. “That was a fucking miracle. You just baptized me, baby.”

She laughed, cheeks burning. “You’re ridiculous.”

He kissed her, deep and warm, still grinning. “No, I’m yours. And I want you to do that again. Someday. As many times as you want.”

He pulled her into his chest, both of them still naked, bodies sticky and wet and exhausted. He held her tight, whispered in her ear:

“You don’t have to love yourself right now. I’ve got enough love for both of us.”

They lay tangled under a messy blanket, still warm and sticky with each other. Jake was on his back, staring up at the ceiling like it had all the answers, one arm tucked behind his head, the other around Y/N’s bare waist. She was curled against him, skin on skin, tracing invisible constellations on his chest with the tip of her finger.

The room buzzed with silence and the occasional click from one of Jake’s alien-detecting gadgets still plugged in on his desk. The only light came from a small moon lamp by the bed, casting a soft glow across their bodies.

Jake finally broke the silence, voice dreamy.

“You know, there’s this theory like, legit, not even fringe that certain stars blink in patterns too consistent to be random. Like they’re sending messages. Civilizations could be signaling across galaxies, and we just don’t know how to read them yet.”

Y/N blinked at him. Then blinked again.

“Did you seriously just go from ‘you taste like heaven’ to ’intergalactic Morse code’ in under ten minutes?”

Jake glanced at her, sheepish. “I mean, technically it’s been fifteen…”

She laughed. “Fifteen minutes ago you were whispering filthy things into my thighs. Now you’re talking about cosmic blinking patterns like I didn’t just take you into another dimension.”

Jake flushed. His ears turned pink. “Okay, fair, but—multitasking, okay? I contain multitudes.”

“Multitudes of what, exactly?” she teased. “Horny golden retriever and conspiracy theorist rolled into one?”

“Precisely.” He grinned, proud. “That’s my brand.”

She lifted herself up on one elbow, letting the blanket fall just slightly down her chest. Jake’s gaze flicked there involuntarily, then guiltily back to her face.

She caught him.

“Don’t act shy now,” she murmured. “You weren’t exactly polite earlier.”

He groaned and hid his face with his hand. “Please don’t quote me.”

“‘God, look at you. You want me this bad, huh?’” she mimicked in a low voice, grinning.

“Y/N.”

“‘I’m gonna make you cum on my tongue first.’”

“I blacked out, okay?”

She laughed and leaned in to kiss his cheek. “You’re cute when you’re overwhelmed.”

“You’re evil.”

“You love it.”

He peeked at her from between his fingers, eyes soft. “I really do.”

A beat of silence.

Then she pulled back slightly, reaching for her sketchbook by the bed.

“I’m gonna draw you again.”

Jake raised an eyebrow. “Me? Right now?”

“Mm-hmm. You, in your natural habitat: post-orgasmic alien nerd.”

“Iconic.” He sat up a little straighter. “Do I need to pose? Should I hold a probe or something?”

“Nope. Just exist. I want to capture how ridiculous and sexy you are at the same time.”

“That is… alarmingly flattering.”

She flipped open her sketchpad, pencil already dancing. Her eyes scanned him like she was decoding him, taking in his messy hair, the curve of his shoulder, the rise and fall of his chest.

Jake tried to sit still, but he kept glancing at her.

“So uh… you’re really different after sex,” he said cautiously.

She smirked without looking up. “Different how?”

“More… confident. Bossy. Teasing.”

“You like it.”

“Yeah. A lot.”

She looked at him then, serious for a moment.

“It’s the only time I don’t hate myself.” Her voice was quiet. “When I’m with you. When I feel wanted. It makes everything… quieter up here.” She tapped her temple.

Jake’s throat tightened.

“Then I’ll keep making it quiet for you,” he said softly. “As often as you want.”

She stared at him. Then back to her sketchbook.

“God, you’re so sincere. It’s infuriating.”

He grinned. “I’m trying to balance out your chaos.”

“You’re doing a terrible job.”

“Thanks. I’ll be the disaster you deserve.”

Y/N laughed again, head shaking.

“Okay,” she said. “Hold still. I’m about to make you immortal.”

Y/N closed her sketchbook slowly, the final scratch of her pencil still hanging in the air.

Jake had been quiet for a while shockingly so. He’d tried to be still while she drew him, but his heart had been pounding the whole time. Something about her gaze steady, curious, knowing made it hard to breathe.

She didn’t say anything when she handed it over.

Jake took the sketchpad, exhaling like he was opening a sacred text. His fingers trembled slightly.

He looked.

And everything in him went still.

There he was again. But this time, not sitting in a restaurant, not under neon lights, not flanked by a bird or caught mid-ramble.

This was him, bare. Not just naked, exposed.

His body was lean, a little awkward in how he sat, one leg bent, a hand half-curled by his side. His face was flushed, the slope of his collarbones detailed with soft lines, the faint scars on his shoulder drawn like delicate constellations.

But the most striking thing, again, was the look in his eyes.

Soft.

Open.

Loved.

Jake’s voice cracked a little when he finally spoke.

“You see me like this?”

Y/N leaned against the headboard, watching him carefully.

“I see all of you. And yeah… this is my favorite version.”

He looked at her, eyes shining. “You’ve drawn me twice now. And both times, I didn’t know I looked like that.”

“That’s the point,” she said. “You’re too busy seeing everyone else. The sky. The stars. Me.” She paused. “You never look at yourself long enough to notice.”

Jake stared down at the drawing again.

“I think… this is the first time I’ve ever felt beautiful.”

Y/N blinked. Her voice came out softer. “You are.”

He looked up, overwhelmed. “I wanna hang it up.”

“You’re not hanging a naked sketch of yourself in your bedroom.”

“Why not?” he grinned. “It’s art. It’s emotional. It’s vulnerable. It’s me in my alien nerd glory.”

“Jake.”

“Okay, okay.” He smiled, setting the sketchpad down beside the bed like it was something fragile. “I’ll just keep it where I can look at it. Privately. Like an emotional support nude.”

She laughed, that real kind of laugh, the one he always tried to coax out of her.

He pulled her into his chest again, kissed the top of her head.

And for a long time, neither of them said a word.

Until Jake whispered, “So… are you saying I’m your muse?”

“Shut up.”

“I am.”

“You’re lucky I like drawing freaks.”

He beamed.

[ghostinthelibrarywrites]

💍 ⏰ 🔍 please?

Thank you for the ask!

💍 From the next chapter of Wedding Vows and Other Lies:

Simon shrugs with a sheepish smile. “I was just in the area. Thought I’d stop by.” “Did you?” Edwin turns his attention back to his laptop. “Well, thank you for stopping by. Have a good rest of your day.” But Simon doesn’t take the hint, instead pulling out the chair opposite from Edwin and sitting down. “Still working here after all these years?” “Yes.” “Think you’ll quit after you get the ten million pounds?” “No.” “Yeah, I suppose this is your dream job, being surrounded by books all day.” “Is that why you’re here, Simon?” Edwin glares at him over his laptop. “To discuss my career prospects?”

⏰ From the Crystal-centric time loop fic:

Niko squeezes her hand and Crystal looks down at her. “Go,” Niko mouths silently at her. “I’m not leaving you,” Crystal tells her, choking on a sob.  Niko nods emphatically. “Go. Save Charles.” “But—” “I’ll stay with her.” Jenny’s eyes are glassy with unshed tears and Crystal remembers her sobs in the second loop. Or was it the third? “You two go get your friend. I’ll text you when we get to the hospital.” Crystal looks down at Niko, who tries to smile, though it looks more like a grimace of pain. The last thing she wants to do is leave her, but then she thinks of Charles trapped in the same machine Edwin was, screaming in agony. Will Charles even be able to survive it? His soul hasn’t been tempered by seventy-three years in Hell. “Okay. But I’ll see you soon, okay?”

🔍 And last but not least, a snippet from my mostly-alive AU for the DBD Big Bang under the cut:

Charles lets out a relieved breath as he flips the sign on the door to “Closed.” He aches all over from the attack the night before; it seems like getting slammed to the ground and choked half to death is tough on the body. “I told you you could take a day off to get some rest,” Mick says from his stool behind the counter. Charles shoots him a tired grin. “Yeah, but then you’d miss me.” “You’ll miss your joints not hurting every morning if you don’t take care of them now.” Mick harrumphs. “Don’t understand why humans have knees. Useless things.” Charles tidies and dusts the shelves while Mick reminisces about his time as a mighty walrus, free from concerns like arthritis and rent. It’s a familiar routine and Charles finds it soothing. It’s hard to imagine that he nearly died last night among these shelves that have become as familiar to him as the back of his hand. He’s trying not to think about it and trying even harder not to jump at every sound. The phone rings and Charles startles, nearly dropping his dust rag.

Make Me Write

[rainpelt25]

Okay so what if I told you I did a really silly thing and made a Star Trek tos medival fantasy AU.......

More info under the cut smirk

OKAY SOOOO 😍 basically I had this image of kirk in a suit of armor but that kind of half armor where the other half is a dress and thag kinda spawned everything else

The AU doesn't exactly stick to the typical medival fantasy world, I had an idea about vulcan/elves and humans not coexisting very well. And vulcans can do the typical magic spells so humans have to make manmade magic (ie. That big thing on scottys back and all of mcoy and chapels potions)

ANZYWAY here are some facts about them in the order they are presenteddd bc ik it's kind of a random set to start with lol I'll post more later

Kirk-

A knight from a kingdom (starfleet) that worships stars (?) Hes a captain and got separated from his troops. He looks a little grumpy in the image hes very sweet very himbo I was just concentrating on his outfit drawing that so I didn't think of the pose lol. Also! The way I og imagined him was with those two painted on dots, it could be a religious thing from the kingdom or something idk but I just rlly wanted them to stick so yeah!!

Scotty-

A blacksmith and all around inventor!! He specializes in man made magic, something very powerful and dangerous in the wrong hands but he just finds it useful to power his machines while he's on the go :) so of course he just pretty much PERFECTS IT IMMEDIETLY because he's scotty!! This probably got him attention from the wrong crowd and his moving from place to place life style becomes more of a on-the-run thing. Oops!

Mccoy-

OK I KNOW THIS IS A LITTLE WIERD IN A FANTASY but this was around the time I was leaning more medival than fantasy (because I love history) and was thinking- what did medival doctors do? Medival times was kind of the plague era.....riiiiighhttt..?? Anywaayy there's some magical plague going around in the background probably more near where Chapel and Mccoy are from. He travels the lands in search for people to help! He specializes in potions- thought not his favorite medicine but the only thing that can combat the sickness. He's just a very tired old man that wants to help people <3

Chapel-

OK SO UM THIS ONES VERY MEDIVAL BUT WHATEVER WERE ALREADY DOING IT!! Chapel lived in the same area as Mccoy, living as a nun (secrets out I don't care about history I just love nuns) Among the many nun things her favorite was helping the local doctor out as a nurse. She grew very knowledgeable about medicine, and with her previous knowledge of magic as a nun they both came up with a (sort of) cure to the plague. But oops! Blasfamy! As the church decided the plague was actually an act of God! So with the help from the doctor they both ran away, searching for people that needed (more like wanted) their help!

It's a little wierd but I hope atleast somone found this intresting!! It's all I could think about for days lol😭 if anyone wants to talk about it or just their own ST AUs I would be SO open for that PLS

[another-clive-blog]

Don't want to burn you out with requests but what's the most tragic scenario we can make about Clive suffering

-φ

φ I want you to know that I would die for you. You are so sweet for caring about my health but I can promise you these asks are fuel to get through the rest of the day <3 If I get a burn-out, school is to blame. That being said, this is the occasion for me to go wild so I want to say a big thank you hehe !!

Alright so I had to get creative about this one because like- Clive already goes through it in canon, and also I exploded him yesterday, I'm killing him today, might torture him tomorrow, so really what more can I do right ? And then I realized. Tragic. Suffering.

What is more tragic than perpetuating the cycle of violence ? What hurts more than losing yourself in it ? What scenario could be worse than becoming who you were trying to destroy ?

(Re)introducing Bad Times AU, also known as the Ouch WIP. This is the Claire and Dimitri swap AU where everyone is extra miserable and unhappy. It may not be the angstiest AU of the game but I feel like its events fit well this request.

This takes place after the last WIP where Claire realizes Clive has doomed her. She has successfully caught up with him before he starts his machine, therefore giving way for one final confrontation between Claire and Clive !

Claire caught up with him right in front of the Thames Arms. It was funny, she supposed, because they had celebrated every major success in this very place : Dimitri had insisted on it, a way to build some team cohesion.

Team cohesion- yeah, right.

"Stop right there," she commanded, and he had the audacity to obey.

How could he ? After everything they'd been through, every effort she'd made- how could he do that ? How could he just condemn her and then move on to kill more innocents as if it was nothing ?

Did he even realize what he was doing ? What he had done ?

Clive turned around to face her. He was oddly calm, his expression neutral as he eyed her up and down. "I wasn't expecting you here," he simply said.

Claire had expected him to at least fake remorse, give a half-hearted apology that he would have never meant, but he couldn't even bother to do that. "What do you think you're doing ?"

They both knew the answer : starting up a giant war machine. Destroying all of London. Making sure no one would ever forget his crimes, because nobody would care to remember Bill's after this day.

Clive said nothing.

He turned to get away, and Claire moved without thinking : grabbing his arm, she jerked him closer. "Why won't you answer ? Is it because you know the truth ? That you're just like us- just like Bill."

He yanked his arm free, a look of sheer rage on his face. "I am not !!"

That was more like it. He wasn't that dignified, unreachable person- he didn't deserve to be unbothered by any of this, she decided.

She had come to stop him, but at that moment Claire realized that she didn't care about reasoning him. Why should she ? That man was the reason she was dying. She didn't have to save him if he had killed her. She wasn't a martyr, a good little lamb who saw the good in everyone. She wasn't an all forgiving God.

She was a human, and she had enough.

"Yes you are. You put yourself with the little people, thinking you're a hero who stands up against the bullies, but you don't care about the little people. You never did !"

"Shut up !" He yelled. He looked hurt and furious, as if he still had any right to feel either of it. "You don't understand !!"

"Oh, but I do. We've all harmed people because we were selfish. Bill wanted his money, Dimitri wanted fame, I- well I guess I wanted to live, but you know that."

"I don't-"

"But you ?" She cut him off, and she could see how unbearable this was for him to hear. Too bad- she didn't think she could stop herself if she wanted too, and she didn't. "You harm people for the sake of harming them. You're no better than us. You're worse, actually." Claire felt high and free, and was it what it felt like to finally fight back ? Or was it the feeling of her body giving out, of her mind losing touch with reality ?

Was she hallucinating, or was her whole body suddenly glowing ?

Clive wasn't answering anymore, his hands hiding his face and grasping at strands of his hair : he was shaking, a mess in his body and mind. Was he hurt ? Crying ? Claire couldn't bring herself to care. She was going to die because of him, he could at least endure a blow to his ego. And if that made her petty, mean or selfish ? She didn't care. She was dying. She was dead. And it was his fault this time.

Her vision was starting to get blurry, but she kept going anyway. "The truth is, it was never about scientists. It wasn't even about politicians. It's about people like you, who intentionally harm others to get what you want." She wasn't even sure he could still hear her. Was she talking to him or was she just getting it all out ? Why wasn't he reacting anymore ? "You are the problem, Clive, as much as we are : we, however, are not trying to pin the blame on someone else."

It felt good- it shouldn't feel good. Hershel would be disappointed. Well, she wouldn't get to see him again because of Clive, so did it really matter what Hershel would think ? She was dying either way.

She heard a muffled sound come from behind Clive's hands. Oh, so he was crying. This was quite pathetic and infuriating after everything he'd done- or well, planned to do. He hadn't started his machine yet, had he ? He could still... turn back, she realized. Then the only one he'd had killed would be her, although she was already dead.

She absolutely refused to comfort him, but his crying was making her more and more uncomfortable.

Except he wasn't crying.

His head jerked back as his whole body shook with uncontrollable laughter. He was laughing like a mad man, breathless and unstoppable. The sorrow, shame, horror Claire had seen him display- it was all gone, as if it had never even reached him.

Claire... didn't know how to react. She wasn't expecting that- she wasn't expecting much of anything, really. She had been- she had been thoughtlessly lashing out, she realized. Just like him.

"Well, maybe you're right," he was laughing like they were on in some kind of joke, a silly little secret they'd have shared during a sleepover or something, as if they weren't talking about destroying London. She clenched her fists, chills running down her spine. He had lost it- he had truly and finally lost it.

His laughter finally died down, but the smile remained : crazy eyes stared at her, piercing through her very soul. "But if you are, I need to do this more than I thought."

Claire took a step forward, tone firm and cold. God, she felt so cold all of a sudden. "Didn't you hear ? It won't solve anything. You're not helping anyone, not even yourself !! Hershel is going to stop you, and then there will be no second chance for you." Was- why was everything blending together around her ? Why couldn't she see the trees and boats and river anymore ? Why couldn't she hear the birds singing ?

Why couldn't she feel anything ?

Clive watched this, the result of his own actions. The death of his hero's lover. The professor wouldn't get there in time to save her.

Layton wouldn't get there in time to save him.

"I think people like us never get any real second chances."

-_-_-_-

I love Claire. I am so angry that she solved everyone's problems and never got to do or say anything about her own. She deserved that lashing out so I'm giving it to her.

On the other hand, I have always been fascinated by Clive listening very quietly and nicely to Layton's biography of him, and going all villainous laughter only AFTER Hershel is done. I think he snapped when he realized that there was no going back, that the trap was closing on him.

[affinno]

I drew all the people in this dnd party + some NPCs we drag around

Bonus Talaith .3

More about them under the cut for those interested

The redhead in the top left corner: Ichorea von Praeterion, 80 something half-elf from the big city, lost the love of her life and commited to the hermit life until being called to adventure, resident edgelord and flirt machine, Shadow Sorcerer

Talaith de Gryfraith, in their early twenties, Aasimar born to shoemaker parents that barely knew what to do with their child and just kinda pushed them away. Talaith is glad to get out into the world and put her talents and gifts to use but they are yet to find a real purpose - and maybe a group of people to call a family. Order Cleric

Fionn aus Linnay, mid to late twenties, a human that started as a rag-tag fisher's boy keen on rebelling, swallowed into pacts and oaths, now on a rocky road to redemption. He's an NPC that travels with us and is trying to get Talaith to understand what a great person they are. He's also an asshole. Watchers Paladin/Hexblade Warlock

Luciane von Nevenz, changeling, from a disgraced noble family that has since turned to crime, a trained assasin and cutpurse, she doesn't trust anyone. Not even the people she travels with really - she has major trust issues and studies people before she talks to them. Inquisitive Rogue

Tirsereg von Asherah, changeling, an ex-mercenary turned knight tries anything to right the wrongs of not just himself but his whole family, having to carefully balance the line between redemption and revenge. Vengeance Paladin/Hexblade Warlock

Fionn is an NPC .3 And yeah, there's some themes of shitty parents/families in the whole group, and trust and telling each other secrets. Also all 3 nobles come from nearly extinct houses, lol. And Talaith, Tirsereg and Luciane keep their ancestries a secret.

The two chibis are NPCs too, Auryn and Ariandelle. I'll talk about them some other time.

[memes-in-a-half-shell]

Villain AU - Deadlock, Part 8

Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5 || Part 6 || Part 7 ||

Getting some blabla out of the way 💁‍♀️ next chapter should have some cool action wahoooooooooooo

(Present)

Vee woke up with a startle at the sound of her phone ringing. In a half-awake state she stumbled her hand across and over to her nightstand, grabbing the device. She took a second to see who was calling, the name being none other than her surpervisor at work. Shit.

"Yeah?" Vee opened with a raspy voice.

"Where the hell are you? You were supposed to start an hour ago!" a woman voice shouted at the other end of the line.

God, it was too early for that...

"I was sick all night," lied Vee. "I'm sorry, I just passed out. I can't make it today."

"You realize I now have to cover for your ass?"

Oh boo-hoo, cry a fucking river.

"I'll be there tomorrow."

She ended the call right there and then. Fuck that job. Fuck that low salary. She didn't have to explain herself furthermore.

Vee sighed, leaving her phone back on the nightstand. In that moment she also realized two things: She was still fully clothed. When did she get to bed last night?

Last thing she remembered was Donatello coming into her apartment after Raphael's impromptu visit, then she cried. So much. That was extremely embarassing...

Putting on her glasses, she resolved herself to getting up, prefering to exchange yesterday's clothes for a oversized black t-shirt and keeping her underwear on. Getting her hair up in a messy bun, Vee made her way directly to the kitchen area, getting a coffee bag out of the pantry next. She barely started to measure the coffee beans needed for her grinder that a tired voice rose from behind.

"Someone called you?"

Vee let out a "Criss!" in French, jumping out of fear and turning around. Coffee beans flew out of the bag at the same time, many now littering the floor. She finally noticed Donnie who had been sleeping on the couch, the terrapin's eyes now fully opened - surprised by her reaction. They were both frozen for a moment, the woman wanting to drop her heart's rate first.

"... What are you doing here?" she asked.

"Uhh ... you said it was okay for me to sleep here."

Vee squinted, trying to recall that.

"Huh? When?"

The turtle was now sitting up, having put his glasses on.

"Last night after I got you to bed."

That was like a blast to Vee, absolutely confused.

"Man ... I don't recall that at all," she confessed. She quickly frowned afterward: "Wait, you took me to bed?"

"Why, you wanted to sleep with me on the couch instead?" said the other, amused.

Vee groaned, giving up as she proceeded to get a broom out. Starting to collect the stray coffee beans, the terrapin had now made his way closer.

"Nice outfit...," he pointed.

She paused, realizing her look.

"It's my apartment, I dress how I want," said the human with a quick shrug. "Enjoy the view, I guess."

Donnie extended his hand towards her, motionning for the broom.

"Gimme that. This mess was caused by me."

Vee sighed, handing him the tool: "Sure, have fun. I'll get the coffee started. ... I have a feeling I'll need a couple of cups today."

It felt so weird... To see him in daylight and with less equipment on himself. Grinding the coffee, she prepped her machine so a pot could be filled. Observing the terrapin at work next, she took a moment to glance at his movements, his muscles. She almost caught herself biting her lip too hard...

"Remind me why you stayed over?" she asked. "For real, the only thing I remember is just crying like a lil' bitch last night."

That caught Donnie off guard, laughing lightly. Throwing away the last beans, he looked at Vee, putting the broom back to its place.

"I wanted to make sure you'd be okay," he started. "You seemed quite shaken up, so it only felt right that I'd be there."

Vee got some mugs out, letting him continue.

"And... I kinda got into an argument with my brother Leonardo last night. So I didn't want to go back home just yet."

"Oh?"

"They saw us together last night, hence why Raph paid a little visit as well."

"What a charming family you have...." she said sarcastically.

"Their intentions are well placed, but poorly executed," he added, thoughtful. He pointed towards Vee's computer next: "By the way, your client replied last night..."

She first frowned, but then quickly realized that she didn't lock her screens - first interrupted by Raph's arrival. She hastened to her desk with a slight panic, sitting down and looking at her screen. As she was reading, Donnie was now standing behind her, waiting for her reaction.

BillionsPerSeconds: How much are we talking about? Color me interested. smooth_criminal: Oops, sorry, the information self-destructed. I don't have it anymore. smooth_criminal: Good doing business with you. Bye bye.

"Hey, I didn't write that! What the heck!" she blurted out.

"I did."

He hunched closer to her, hands against the desk and at each sides of her, searching for her gaze at her left.

"I told you to not give out the biometrics data."

"And I told you not to look through my stuff! You're breaking rule number two."

Donnie showed an annoyed look: "... Your screen was litterally opened and your web browser on that conversation. Forgive some wandering eyes."

"Breaking rule number three now; don't be an ass," she added, looking over to him.

A brief staring contest ensued, the woman finally realizing how close the terrapin now was. A sigh left her, losing the battle as she glanced away.

"And I wasn't giving it out," mumbled Vee. "I was trying to sell it. It's different."

"It's still going against what we talked about. Don't try to play around with words and meanings."

Her eyes now back on him, she patted his cheek amusedly: "Alright, I got my lesson now. No need to chastise me anymore."

Donatello's smile was sweet, as if happy to have won whatever battle this was. Letting out a simple "good", he quickly nuzzled over Vee's top of her head, proceeding back up and into the kitchen. As he was pouring the now readied coffee, the woman was still processing this rapid display of affection he just did, swiveling her chair around and observing his motions with a slight confusion.

... What happened last night?

***

(Last night)

Her crying had calmed down, her eyes still red and watery however. The duo was still in eachother's arms and now comfortably seated on the couch - Vee completely leaning onto the mutant's form and in absolute need of comfort. Her fatigue was now drowsing her mind, yet that didn't stop her from talking:

"I never wanted this," she confessed. "I wanted to create. I wanted to be happy. ... I got fucked over so many times, I simply lost hope."

She could still feel Donnie's hands slowly petting her in soothing motions.

"I only started all of this information broker shit 'cause I'm good at searching stuff," she added with a sniffle. "I lost so many years going to College for music and arts, I didn't want to lose a couple more years trying to go down another career path." She paused, some sobs escaping her. "... I was abused, I was broken, the industry swallowed me whole and spat back my emptied shell."

She dared move, wanting to find Donnie's gaze.

"People have told me to grow a spine and be assertive - and believe me, I've tried so many times. ... I was met with rage and shouts. I had nowhere to go. I've been told countless times that I'm good for nothing and that everything I ever did was for nothing. ... What am I supposed to do other than to believe that?"

She could feel her tears come back again, shaking her head slightly: "People only want what's best for their personal gain. Once they see weakness, they'll do anything to step on it and take whatever left there is. ... And I was tired of it. I wanted none of it."

One of Donatello's hands moved, cupping her cheek and his thumb tenderly wiping the wet trail on her skin. He had this serene and mindful look, showing that he was completely attentive to her. The woman brought her hold to his hand, leaning into his touch with closed eyes. At once she realized how much she had craved for any form of contact and interaction... To simply be approached by someone and feel a touch on her.

"I'm so glad you're here..." she murmured in a sad tone.

"And I'm glad to be here," he answered in a hushed voice as well, getting closer.

She felt a motion at the top of her head, the turtle now nuzzling her gently. Her body reacted like a magnet as she herself wanted to be nearer. A deep rumbling sound started from the mutant's chest, this small vibration felt between them and throughout the woman's body. She lost herself into this feeling, moving her arms to rest around his neck and hiding her face in the crook of his neck. In an instant Donnie's embrace was now wrapped around her, his face buried in her hair and his churr incessant. They both didn't want to let go - simply wanting to savor the moment and newly found comfort and proximity.

"Please stay," softly said Vee. "I don't want to be alone."

Donnie noted her body relaxing, as well as some yawns escaping her. Without any words he proceeded to scoop her in his arms, hers still around his neck. Heading for the bedroom, he next laid her down on the mattress, kneeling down beside the furniture and observing the space while petting her hair in a soothing motion.

"... Where do you want me to stay?" he asked. "Your bed's not big enough." It was nothing else but a double sized mattress. They could both fit, but they'd need to stay close...

"You can sleep on the couch," Vee answered, yawning again.

"Then I'll be there if you need me," added the terrapin, his eyes translating a loving emotion.

He only wanted to stay close to her... Bringing a blanket over her clothed form, he nuzzled her temple, getting a soft hum from Vee in return. As he was about to head out of the bedroom next, her tiny voice did stop him:

"I'm sorry..."

He looked her way again: "What for?"

"I'm sorry...," she repeated, her tone trailing off, too tired.

Knowing he'd get no more answers from her, Donnie prefered to disregard whatever apology that was, leaving the room and keeping the door ajar - only to be able to hear her if ever needed. He started to turn off the lights around the apartment, finally stumbling around her computer and noticing its screen and active web browser. The turtle frowned lightly as he read over the conversation with her current client, knowing she was hinting at the biometrics he had just shared with her. Seeing that the client seemed interested, he answered in Vee's stead, bullshitting something about the files having self-destruct. He didn't care if that prevented her from getting money, he simply couldn't let her share that information...

With a sigh he headed for the couch, leaning his shell on it and bringing a cushion between his neck and shell for his head to rest on. Donnie's eyes were stuck on the ceiling for a long while, his thoughts running over and over again in his mind. The fact that Vee had opened herself so easily tonight, he knew there was hope... More than ever, he didn't want to let go. He wanted her to be happy...

***

(Present)

They had settled for an easy breakfast - eggs and toasts - then sitting down on the living room's floor and plates on the coffee table. As Vee wanted to avoid any awkward silences, she had put on some faint music in the background, in hopes of making things easy in this ... weird morning. Her playlist was set to a random cycle, which brought her to almost choke when 'My One and Only Love' came up next. She promptly skipped as barely a minute rolled in, the soft beat of 'C.R.E.A.M' coming up instead.

"Afraid of love songs?" said Donnie, amused.

"Absolutely not," replied the woman. "It's just ... not needed right now."

"Mm-hmm, sure."

Vee's stare was slightly annoyed as she observed him take a sip of coffee. ... There simply was no time right now to let any lovey feelings invade her mind. Instead she prefered to switch the subject to a matter she'd be wanting to know for some time:

"Can I ask something about the project Renaissance? ... There's a detail in those files that I've been wondering about."

Donnie was now attentive, his brow ridges furrowing lightly.

"I dunno why you're so stuck on that project, but sure, go ahead."

The woman took that as a cue to get up, fetching a tablet she had left in her room. It didn't take her time to swipe through the device as she walked back to the living room, already bringing up the Renaissance's files. Sitting back down at the coffee table, she read through some lines, finally pinpointing what she wanted to know about:

"Here... The initial mutative components of the alien substance have been noted down, yet a thorough investigation of its properties still remains to be conducted. Following the ongoing observations on the animal subjects, blood tests revealed that the so-called 'green ooze' is present amongst the cells, ensuring a continuous safekeep of the element - if ever missing and needed." She looked up at Donatello, her head slightly tilting to one side in questionnement. "... Have you ever tested the ooze from your blood? Or have you ever offered it to scientists?"

His answer was quick: "Never in a lifetime would I ever give that substance to anyone. I'd be too scared for it to fall into any wrong hands." His pause was brief, considering his next words. "... I did get some results myself, but never pushed for more answers - and frankly, my family and I are okay with never knowing what the ooze entails of, or even to have it die with us."

"Aren't you curious though?"

The terrapin shrugged: "About what?"

That actually stopped Vee, actually wondering herself. Seeing her incertitude, the other kept going on.

"We know the ooze is capable of bringing great transformations into any beings. Yet, to be affected by it is to be marked for a life of exile, at least that's how we see it; to be feared by most people. Why would we want that substance to affect anything or anyone's life? Who are we to decide if any being can potentially be inflicted by this curse?"

"A curse?" questionned the human. "Why say that when it litterally gave you sentience?"

"Did I ask to be given that sentience?"

"No, but it made you into who you are."

"And you think my family and I are okay with that?"

Vee stopped, knowing there was no more point in trying to raise a counterargument. Seeing her concerned look, Donnie did sigh softly, fingers mindlessly and softly tapping against the table, reminiscing.

"... Years ago, we did get our hands on a deritative alien substance; the purple ooze. It had been used to turn human subjects into animal mutants, which brought me to the realization that it could be used to turn us into humans." He glanced at his left hand, closing and flexing his three fingers. "... I remember the feeling of having five fingers, even if it was for a brief moment. At that time, my brothers and I were contemplating the idea of changing our forms, only to be accepted within society."

"Why didn't you guys do it?"

That brought a soft smile to the mutant's lips: "As cheesy as it'll sound, we do love who we are. Through all the hardships and seclusion, we simply couldn't give up who we truly were." His gaze remained on Vee, knowing she probably had many question still. "I guess the point I'm really trying to make is that we don't wish the challenges we've been through to anyone else. We honor our lives, we remain in this lifestyle simply because that's all we've ever known. ... The power in our blood may be too destructive or unpredictable, so we can't risk letting it be shared freely into this world... And we don't want to change. We don't want to allow any more successes into our very undemanded existence."

Vee remained silent, contemplating his words. While she understood the reasonings, there was still a small part of her that simply couldn't push aside her curiosity; she wanted to know more about the substance. She could only contemplate the possibilities of any advancements it could bring into society or individuals. Yet when she listened to him, the sympathy in her could only agree with the terrapin. ... Something she never thought she's reach at this point. She locked her tablet's screen, giving it no more attention.

"Thank you for telling me all of that," she said, sustaining his gaze. "I guess I can finally put those questionings to rest."

"Anything else you'd like to know then?" he asked in light amusement, elbows on the coffee table and his chin against his raised hands.

Vee let out a quick chuckle, first peeking quickly inside her now empty coffee cup.

"You want another coffee?"

He shook his head slightly: "I'd rather go sleep in fact... We usually don't stay up much during the day."

And she supposed that he couldn't really get out at this time, or else he'd be spotted easily. The woman simply got up, then standing by his side and offering her hand to him. In a follow me gesture, she got the turtle to stand up, her tiny hand holding his large one as she guided him towards her bedroom. As she offered him her bed, he was quick to politely decline, but her insistance and assuring him that she didn't mind did bring some ease into the offering.

"I'll be working on some stuff in the meantime, I don't mind," Vee simply added.

And that was good enough for him.

Putting the dishes away, Vee's actions only slowed down once she sat back at her computer, mindlessly going through her files and reorganizing some documents. Thinking back to Donnie being so open about how he felt in regards to his own existence, she slowly realized that last night had a ... similar outcome, but this time coming from her end. Bits and pieces of her blabbering came back to light, realizing that she had been pretty vulnerable in that moment. In a sense she absolutely hated it, but then again ... it had felt so good to let it all out. To finally voice things that had plagued her mind and kept her in this sense of failure for anything she ever undertook. Her life was this endless wandering, all about taking on the opportunity to ruin people's lives - only for her gain. Yet when she was with Donnie, she felt this sense of purpose, a plan that was getting built before her very own eyes... And that felt absolutely refreshing. Her playlist still going, this time even more softly, she groaned lightly as 'My One And Only Love' started again but from another artist, yet kept the tune playing. She remembered his touch. His hands over her form, caressing ever so softly. His nuzzling to her hair, the churr in his chest. The proximity she experienced, as short as it was, had only her screaming for more - simply to feel alive a little more.

After a while she sighed, knowing she couldn't resist the thought anymore. She got back up and headed towards the bedroom, finding the turtle already asleep. She felt bad for walking in and sitting by the bed's side, her hand shyly reaching for his. That easily woke up Donnie, his tired motions leading him to look at Vee.

"What's up?" he asked in a hushed, half-asleep tone.

"... Can I join you?" said the woman, her voice tiny.

He only hummed, moving a little and bringing the blanket up for the human to slip in. Removing her glasses and joining Donnie, she prefered to face him, both on their sides and first studying his traits. Feeling her hands to his cheeks, a purr-like sound left the terrapin, his eyes already closed out of fatigue.

"I'm so glad you're here...," she echoed from last night.

His arms were now fully around her, bringing Vee's to wrap around his neck. In an instant, the rush of their hearts was deafening, their bodies so close - they could've just melded together. Vee's fingertips tenderly traced patterns on his scales, appreciating the texture. Oh she could keep doing so for hours... The mutant lazily nuzzled her hair, his hands patiently petting her upper and lower back. There was this excitement about keeping her close, yet everything felt so right and calm... he knew they both needed this.

And in all truthfulness, they wished this moment would last forever...

((Part 9))

[cabbojage]

HAIII

I have a QUESTION!

what piece of world building do u really like that makes a lot of sense in your au?

HELLOOO SORRY THIS IS LATe i swear everything in my inbox is rotting from neglect. BUT I'M GONNA ANSWER ITALL

hopefully i answer this right but.... i really like all the machine lore in my wip ! the whole "time is currency" thing that i mentioned obviously takes the spotlight in terms of my world's defining features, but machines and the energy that powers them also plays a pretty big role! the gist of it is basically, CLOCKED OUT's city of klairva is mainly fueled by electricity, which is generated in power plants and produced by huge watches wound up by the Clockmaker when he was alive. it's one of the reasons why the city is able to survive with so little land area and such a dense population; essentially, there's an infinite source of energy. however, since the energy source is tied to magic (like a lot of things in my world lmao), it will undoubtedly collapse if the magic ends up dying. or if, you know, the creator of that magic has been considered dead for half a century...

exempt from all this, though, are automatons - half-sentient machines who can take orders but not think for themselves. this is where lola comes in with her mechanic expertise: she makes and fixes automatons! automatons aren't powered by electric batteries, but rather by "keys" - which must be blessed by a Cardinal. the only magical aspect of these keys are the ability to bestow the machine with a half-consciousness (think modern day AI/robots, who can respond to stimuli but don't think or themselves), and keep the machine running without constantly having to be winded (an automatic key instead of a manual one!)

lola, however, has nothing to do with the magic of it all. she deals with the grit, the gears and the grease and the details and dimensions. the design. and i want to capitalize on this human/machine, creator/creation dynamic throughout the whole story - what defines humanity? if your body is ruined into metal, if someone tells you what to do and you obey, does that mean you are more of a machine? if someone else controls how long you live for, are you no different than a generator? the human as a machine and the god as its creator....hm.....

but anyway! i hope this relationship becomes clearer as i write it bc.... all i have rn are vibes LMAOOOO and i don't fully know how i'm gonna represent this or if i have too many elements interacting with each other etc etc TT i might end up toning this down so that my world isn't so magic-reliant (maybe have them use fossil fuels or something idk lmaooo) - but yeah, i like how the whole "time is currency" interacts w the city's machinery as a parallel representing humans as the machines and the cardinals/the Clockmaker as their creator. (i just realized i could've just said that last sentence instead of that massive info dump but.... oh well KLDJALKDJKD)

[exepelia-chan]

Hello, may I request how Rengoku, Tengen, Douma, Muzan, and Akaza would react to a female reader getting 'stuck'?

(Whether she did it on purpose or accidentally can be up to you)

Ok here goes ✓ 1+, mentions of breeding, modern AU, jerking off, blood sucking, (stepbro I'm stuck without the stepbro) female!Reader praise kinks degradation if you squint. Oral(fem receiving) bondage. (Sorry for the typos, guys.)

Rengoku, Kyojuro

So you thought it'd be funny to pretend that you got stuck in the washing machine in front of THE UMAI MASTER and, long story short he knew it was a prank and actually made you get stuck..

You lied on the bed in defeat. All limbs tied eyes covered; which didn't matter cause they'd be closed in bliss so anyway. "Kyojuro... W-we can talk about this..." "Really? We can? Didn't seem like talking when you flaunted your ass while the other half of you was quote unquote, " stuck". You couldn't say anything to that. A Waze of excitement cane over you as the bed dipped under the weight of Kyojuro. "Itadakimasu~". Was what you heard. He sloppily lapped up the clear and white fluid that seem to pour out every second. "Kyo~ please let m- AH!" A jolt of pain came to your left ass cheek along with...heat? "Ahhh~ " You dragged out a moan. "Calm down little flame, you're not coming until I say so. Yeah.. Its gonna be a long night.

Uzui, Tengen

There's not much to say here but... Two of the rest of the wives teamed up WITH Tengen.

Tengen stands tall, belt in hand. You look in the mirror, tears in your eyes. Makio holds you down and Hina hold Suma. She just HAD to have her awesome, bright idea. Now look at where you are. Crying, ass red, face puffy. This could've been avoided. "TENGEN SAMAAA WE'RE SORRYY!!!" Suma yells out again as fresh, hot tears roll down her face. "Really?" "YES!" you screamed out. Makio looks down with pitiful eyes. "Well let's check to make sure~. Took about a good two days to sit down...

Douma

He was thankful for this opportunity because instead of having to go out and kill a human he could drink straight from his favorite person whose been such a bad girl today.

"Douma~" you huffed as tears threatened to spill out of your eyelids. You know not to cry around him. Crying makes it worse. He waa so much stronger than you. You could only sit there and take it as your face became pale. "Its ok baby, this helps you sleep remember ~. That sweet voice was the last thing you heard before closing your eyes.

Kibutsuji,Muzan

I personally don't like the dude soooo.

You yell and cry for some sort of savior. But there is none. Muzan fills you up with his blood; more and more. But suddenly you're on the brink of destruction and he stops. He pulls your face in for a kiss that feels like your skin might rip off. You don't care though. It grows back in less than a second. All you need to sit and love this feeling of blood rushing power. "Ah~ this painful feel of power~". " My fucking little masochist."

Akaza

He smiled and left?

It had been two hours since you pulled your little stunt and he didn't do anything. You got sleepy and decided to take a nap. "Mmm" you wiggle your hips and reach down. 'Hair?' You thought to yourself. "Ah!" The feeling you had suddenly got intense; so intense in fact that you thought you about to cum hard. "Akaza I-" All pleasure stopped in an instant. You grabbed his hair and tried to force him on you but, he wouldn't budge. "Sorry moonflower, that's the most you're out of me." He winked. "Oh, and don't let me catch you touching yourself! You have a vivid imagination so, I'm sure you know what would happen ~" . And just like that... He got up and left.

[banqdanfnfic]

which, as they kiss, consume | jjk

you just wanted to get a tattoo from your boyfriend

pairing: tattoo artist!jk x reader

genre: established relationships au, tattoo artist au, smut

word count: 4k

warnings: unprotected sex, biting, making out, grinding, licking, nipple play, jk has a lip ring, oral (f receiving), fingering, shy jk and oc, sexual tension, slight choking, slight aftercare

♫ : Streets by Doja Cat, Candy by Doja Cat

♡ Aesthetics: Playlist | Moodboard

He visibly chokes on his glass of beer as he almost snaps his neck to meet your gaze. He could say that you were awfully drunk and hence the sudden confession out of the blue, but behind your heavy lidded eyes, Jungkook could sense that you were serious.

“You what?”, he gulps abruptly, moving closer to your face, doe eyes pleading to repeat yourself.

“Yes Kook. I want that tattoo on my breasts. I’ve decided”.

It’s not that Jungkook didn’t have experience in his career with inking on different parts of a human body. He just had never given a tattoo to someone who is romantically associated with him and the thought of seeing you half naked made him chuck down the rest of his drink in one go.

The most physical he had ever gotten with you was a kiss shared occasionally since it’s only been over two weeks you had started dating. Okay maybe you made out once in his car but that’s it. It never got to the point of shedding clothes or anything intense.

“Are you sure?”

You giggle at the sudden hoarseness in his voice and nod positive. Ironic how his aura never matched his personality. His inked skin, athletic body proportions covered in black monochrome bad boy outfits gave out default energy that he is a local heartthrob with multiple chicks wrapped around his finger each night and a heavy demeanor to carry in his smirk.

You were one of those believers until Jungkook asked you out in the most hopeless romantic way possible after constantly visiting the café you work in, a few shops besides his parlor. He was a gentleman with respectful boundaries, warm hands to hold yours and sweet sensual kisses though you are pretty sure he probably has a good game.

For any outsider it looked like those cliché bad boy and shy girl love stories, but for real both of you were a good percentage of introverts.

Jungkook runs his tongue around his lip ring while he is stressfully ruffling his dark locks into a mess. He is trying to explain his reasons to postpone your decision considering how shy he got at this point. But then that’s exactly why you were requesting him with soft eyes, it would be so uncomfortable to be shirtless in front of anybody else. Or maybe it’s your way of saying the relationship is open for higher levels of physical affection.

After debating around in vain, he finally hums and clears one of his slots for his beloved client.

Friday approaches way quicker than you assumed and now your heart is beating in your throat. Right after you are done cleaning the tables, you have to make it to Jungkook’s parlor for your appointment.

Running on three hours of sleep, black under eyes even after a decent amount of makeup, you groan as you check yourself out in the mirror. You opted for a simple shirt and skirt (also known as the outfit you bought for occasions with Jungkook), light beach waves resting on your shoulders. Hoping that a few cups of coffee will save you, you stride across the street to stop before the infamous parlor he worked in. Hopefully the full body shave and chocolate body butter has kept its excellence on your skin below the clothing.

The door chimes as it opens with a dragged creak on the musky wooden flooring. It felt like an otherworld where air smelled like men’s perfume and faint tint of cigarettes. In other words, intoxicating.

You ask the first person you meet at the reception, one of Jungkook’s companions at the shop and he assists you to his cabin located at a comfortably remote location.

His space is hidden with a simple black curtain. You are met with Jungkook’s back facing you, working determinately on a client’s arm and cares to spare a glance only when the guy with you is informing him about your presence.

“This will be over in a few”, he grins to your face and goes back to focusing his coil on the skin of a woman in her late twenties laying down his chair. The vibration from his inking machine fills in the silence and you excuse yourself to sit on a small black couch beside them.

This was the first time watching him at work and now you can understand why people rumored so much about his attitude because damn it is intimidating.

Brows knit together and inked muscles flex as he drags the needles around for finishing touches. Meanwhile you can pretty much smell the drool from the woman who is shamelessly checking out your boyfriend. Though you are pretty sure Jungkook gets such glances more than he can count every day, you can’t help but feel jealous. Partly because of the childish possessiveness and partly because you want to be the reason behind his dark eyes and intricate concentration, in profession or not.

To stop from mentally throwing daggers on the client’s way, you grab a random fashion magazine from the side table and flip through pages, though other four senses are inclined on your man. With a close attention to his low sigh you conclude that he is done.

The customer with now a fresh tattoo on her arm is discussing random useless topics to get him to talk, a very vain job realizing how Jungkook doesn’t bat a friendly lash at anybody, especially to those who hit on him. To be honest a large part of the ink business was linked with the obsession to attractive people who worked here, even if it meant trading an area of your skin. You grip the edges of the magazine a bit hard, not able to contain the sanity particularly at the high pitch voice she mumbles in before finally leaving his cabin.

A little excited and a lot nervous, you stand up as Jungkook bids goodbye to the third person.

He is quick to notice your discomfort, though not sure if it was the woman or the thought of finally getting the tattoo, he knew you were nervous and surviving in several cups of espresso by the dark circles slowly showing through the faded layers of your concealer. But nothing pulls down the opinion he has about you, beautiful and simple, no dramatics attached.

“Hey are you okay?”

You nod as soon as you sit down on the black tattoo chair, shifting a little to find a comfortable position. He is taking out a box full of equipment and fine needles, already making you break a sweat at the side of your forehead.

But more than that, it’s the way he is sharp and professional that catches your attention more.

You have never seen Jungkook this serious before. The choice of his vetiver perfume digging through your nostrils was driving you insane. If he doesn’t smile soon, you are going to melt into a puddle at his gaze.

“Are you nervous?”, he smirks this time, a newfound reason for your worsening gut health.

It’s mostly going in cycles at this point. Every bit of his skilled motion causes a vigorous hormonal reaction which initiates his next set of effortless teasing.

“I’m a little nervous”, you say, fiddling with your freshly painted nude nails.

“Me too”

It’s something you least expect to come out of his mouth observing how confident he looks right now. He basically has you cornered with his gaze. But whenever he had been truthful about his emotions it felt like a hug.

“I can take off my shirt too, so that we are even. Is that okay?”

He said it so softly like he is handling a child and the duality of the situation had your mind fogged and limbs frozen for a few minutes.

“Yeah it’s okay” It’s far beyond than okay. It’s great actually.

Jeon Jungkook is ripped, a Greek God sculptured masterpiece covered in self designed artwork you are more than happy to wake up to every morning. He hears you gulp at the feast before your eyes while he discards his black t-shirt to a nearby chair.

Now you don’t know if this whole thing is supposed to warm your heart or make you play several erotic fantasies like a movie before your eyes.

Both of you share a small smile while his long fingers are tugging at the hem of your shirt and pulling it up over your head.

He almost wishes you don’t opt to wear a bra but he is met with lacy black, a-bit-over your-usual-budget fabric hugging the roundness of your breasts.

It seemed like you were way too competitive about today. Anything less than complete awe from Jungkook for you was straight disappointment, you don't want anything less.

Well it seems like it did from how blown his pupils were at this point. He peels his gaze off your chest with a sharp gulp to look at your eyes suddenly devoid of any fear and staring back at him with all ease. He is filled with an exapnse of warmth and he isn't sure why does spending just a little amount of time with you had such a grip on him. He can’t wait to propose the idea of getting a couple tattoo together soon and as far as you know how Jungkook is, he is very serious with his body art so apparently he does trust you a lot already.

“Where exactly are you trying to get it?”, his voice is a lot deeper suddenly as he waits for your fingers to guide to his canvas.

You softly trace the spot at the upper circumference of your right boob, “Here”.

You suck a breath through your nose as his own fingers are mimicking your gesture, lightly pulling down the lace to inspect the fitting of the design at hand.

These violent delights have violent ends

And in their triumph die, like fire and powder

Jungkook traces each word on your burning skin, now leaning dangerously close which was questioning your control to put your palms flat on his pecs. He doesn’t notice that though, his mind is busy creating his own fantasies about the women under him.

After two minutes and twenty four second long of inspection and mutual thirst, Jungkook is selecting a bunch of needles to set into the rotary machine. Five fine sharp like a painter's brush moves in and out at a set regularity as Jungkook tests it out.

The next of his actions had you flushed into a pool of crimson. He gently lifts up your resting torso with one hand while the other is unclasping the hook of your bra, making you half naked for the sake of the tattoo.

"I'm going to start", he says shyly.

You still have time to save yourself from the growing phobia for the object, but another unlogical part of your brain says it's a piece of cake considering you have a whole distracting full course meal in front of you.

It stings at first. Well, okay it hurts like hell but your face is devoid of any indication, except your right hand is gripping on the rim of the chair for dear life.

Jungkook on the other hand had never felt this much diversion of mind during his work. He knows that you are probably hurting very badly, especially for a first timer. He is biting into his lip ring, trying to get this over with for the well-being of your pain and his hormones.

After he had scribed one word into your dermis, you are no longer able to contain the ache so you give out a small squeak out of your glossed lips and the vibration of the machine at his hands stops as he looks at you.

"You want me to stop? ", he is relaxing his face as he cups yours with one hand. You don't want to answer that question, but the drumroll of the current situation is making your heart flutter and everything about the little burn on your chest is forgotten.

"No. It does hurt but I'll be fine I guess", you whisper. His breath is mixing with yours slowly as he is leaning more towards your face. If it isn't for a kiss then you are likely to be disappointed.

"It'll be over before you know it. I'll make it quick", and then he kisses you, a small act to get off the pressure of sexual tension between your bare upper bodies.

Before you think of any tongue in the act, he is breaking off the contact and returns to his position on your chest. He misses the pout that forms on your mouth but right now both of your heads are in cloud nine.

The pain starts again, only this time you are busy reliving how his lips felt in yours; soft, firm and controlled.

You gasp when you feel one of his hands cupping your right breast to further his design but it's lowkey an act empowered by lust which is straining behind the so called professional eyes.

You just sit there flustered out of your mind and then Jungkook is suddenly squeezing, full palm hiding your breasts like it's a protected treasure, but he isn't showing the slightest facial expression other than determined eyes and his lower lip caught between his teeth.

Fuck you can't take it anymore. Jungkook can feel your nipples harden against his hand and his brain isn't helping much to concentrate on the design. But by the grace of some positive karma left on his side, he makes it through the long text and when he is letting go of your chest and standing tall, your skin is popping out with redness on the places the text lays embedded.

He fishes out a mirror for you to look.

"It looks beautiful thank you Jungkook", you smile.

"Can I give you one more tattoo on your left one?", he asks while you are contemplating whether going through the pain is worth it, not to mention you really want to get back at a private space with Jungkook as soon as possible.

"It won't hurt I promise", and then he is kissing you a lot filthier than before; all tongue and teeth, while his hands are grazing on the skin of your waist, pressing a little firmer than before.

The coldness of his lip ring rivaled around your mouth, and you try sucking on it to which Jungkook responds with a growl and pushes his body adamantly against yours.

Skin to skin, you are lost in euphoria of everything happening and finally, you roam your eager hands around his body, to his pecs and the definition of abs.

As your fingers scraped against his scalp, Jungkook is biting eagerly down your jawline to your collarbone and continues his ministrations at a particular spot which is bringing out melodic moan variation from you.

He is going down your skin, licking on your left boob before he starts planting violet tattoos as he had promised. As if it couldn't get better, he is massaging the right breast, in a way to soothe pain.

He loses it when you stutter his name, but he is just a fucking tease when it comes to making love and doing anything in a public space is the last thing he wants to do. There isn't much room for all that he wants right now.

"Why did you choose this particular tattoo Y/n?", he rasps while he is planting small pecks on his artwork, and you reply when he is finally eye level with you

"I just felt like it's a good one", your breaths are uneven and mostly caught in your neck. He pecks your lips before speaking, "Those are lines from Romeo and Juliet".

He takes your hands to trace over a line of text among the many designs on his chest.

which, as they kiss, consume

"We pretty much have a couple tattoo now Y/n", his breath is matched with your pace and you are not very sure how to respond to this new knowledge.

"That's… hot"

You break into giggles along with him, he just can't stop dragging his lips around your skin, but he isn't able to word his feelings right now either.

"I have some aftercare healing ointment for the tattoo at my place, wanna come over?" Now that may be a little lame of an excuse to get his little friend out of his pants but you are too unfazed to analyse any of that.

His hands find place on your ass under the skirt as soon as the door to his apartment closes, and before you know it, you are in his bedroom, sitting on the soft mattress and tongue lost devouring each other.

While eagerly getting rid of every article of clothing, Jungkook notices that you don't have your bra on beneath the shirt, so it's probably back at the parlour, but none of you have the slightest care for it, might as well make an excuse with it later to fuck you in his cabin.

He is pushing you farther towards the headboard, him on top, grinding sensenslesy while your lips mould with his. Though he has his whole body pressed against you, you can't seem to feel his weight at the slightest, every one of his actions were just balanced and perfect.

As Jungkook goes down on you, his smile is evident against your skin, finally able to find out how every one of those scenarios in his head will come to look like. He lets out a satisfied hum being finally able to suck on your tits, your fingers finding place on his hair, twisting it out of stimulation.

His pelvis is flushed harshly against yours, grinding and rubbing against your pussy for as long as he is rejoicing the feeling of moving his tongue around both the nipples.

He stops rubbing after some point and you whimper at the loss but his fingers are soon to meet your core as a quick apology. All your later moans are muffled on his mouth once again.

Feeling the controlled movements of his fingers on your clit, you dig your nails down on his toned shoulders. It's becoming impossible to reciprocate his lewd movements of tongue on your lips at this point as the excitement between your thighs is growing every passing second.

Your mouth remains slightly parted as he removes his face to watch you squirm underneath, lips swollen, deep red and glossy from all the saliva.

He pecks at the shell of your ear before going down past your navel.

You haven't had much heads in the twenty years of your life, most of the guys being completely against the idea which made you feel insecure to bring up the topic in bed, but Jungkook does it like his life depends on it.

He growls at the sight of you dripping into his sheets and he seems to enjoy the idea of being the influence behind it. But none is going through your head at the moment, not the metal on his lips grazing against your folds, or the fact that Jungkook is grinning each time you cry his name, it feels unreal to feel something like this.

His mouth is wrapping against your entrance and he is balancing your lower body on his palms to help him reach the right depths inside you. While all you can muster up is the strength to grope the bedsheets in your fist and close your eyes at the pleasure.

Jungkook brings his head higher to give some attention to the throbbing clit, catching it between his teeth and triggering the bundle of nerves just the perfect dose to have your hips jolting up to his face.

He can't take it himself when you are now whining and chasing for your release, so he is slightly humping against the bed to get some friction.

He licks a slow stripe up till your abdomen and slowly raises to your face, already fucked out and dishevelled to keep up with his dominant orbs.

He swears he had never felt so much warmth and care for sex with any of his previous partners, in relationship or not, all he could think is how good can he treat the pleading eyes underneath him.

"Is there something you like that you want me to do?", he says, fingers grazing once again to your crotch to not deny you from his contact. Only this time he is exploring the tightness of your pretty cunt with two skillful fingers.

Is there? You are not sure. Or in other words you are too caught up at the sense of him fingering you. It's not like you had enough experience or people who cared enough to ask that question. It astounds you that never in this entire foreplay he asked for any favor for himself.

"I'm not sure…", you whisper and then maybe you have something on your mind " um I guess I would like to be choked" Okay this felt embarrassing.

He smiles before sliding his free hand from your lips to your neck, and applies slight force, careful to not hurt you in the slightest bit.

"Is that fine?"

"Yeah", you muffle through the decreasing course of air.

He pulls up your face by the throat to attach lips once more. He just can't seem to get enough of kissing you senseless. Then, the tip of his long ignored cock is teasing the length of your pussy twice before it's stretching you out to the brim.

Bodies flushed and hot, his pace is deep and slow, making sure to kiss the cervix every time he is inside.

He watches as your eyes close shut and flutters around whenever he is grazing against your sweet spot. Both of your ears lost and eager for the moans looming out of each other, his more like what he sounds at the gym. Nice observation Y/n.

In this span of sexual energy you shared, you can make some obvious conclusions. Sex with him was surreal, both in terms of domination and the care he had. Rocking against him and keeping up with his hips was attainable— Compared to the intense eye contact he tries to hold, or the way he cups the side of your face and rubs the pad of his thumb on your cheeks while he kisses you during sinking back in, or the way his eyes glow at the beauty of your body open for him. It makes you feel special and it's difficult to respond to these gestures when you never felt this way before.

Jungkook could tell that from your face, but he hopes he lasts with you enough to help you know the worth you hold. You couldn't think too much about anything when you are busy squeezing around his length and coming twice in the first ten minutes.

By the third orgasm Jungkook is nearing his own and he pulls out to pump a few times before coming on your stomach.

"Was it okay?", his voice is all over the place, still balancing his body on his arms while you are amazed by his strength.

"It was amazing Jungkook", you smile. You have known a lot about Jungkook over the few dates you spent with him. That he likes literature, classics and philosophy, designs tattoos as a subconscious thing, that his game is A-1, and he likes working out almost three hours a day. Good for you. But it wasn't until now you know him to be gentle, like he is afraid to crush you under a feather touch. You don't know him as someone who is staring deep into your face after a good fuck, speaks nothing, smiles widely, and plants a peck on your forehead before getting off the bed.

He does the honors of cleaning both of your bodies with a towel, it's not like you have any strength left in you anyway. And then pulls out an ointment from the bedside table and plops next to your body.

"There. You need this to protect the tattoo", he takes off the nozzle and applies a required amount against the words on your chest and massages against them.

"Now go to sleep Juliet", he mocks, pulling up the sheets over you both "good night".

You snuggle against his hard chest, kissing his pecs before resting on it, "Good night Romeo".

thank you so much for reading!! please leave a feedback!!

★ taglist: @pjmochii (dm, ask or comment to enter the tl!)

★ credits: @/rainbeary on spotify : songs that'll make you feel everything's in slow motion playlist

★ banner & boards: by me :)

a/n: this is my first time writing smut and i basically died of second hand embarrassment during the process. pardon for my untalented ass, i tried this wip continuously for a week and i seriously don't think it could get anything better though it's probably not much.

© banqdanfnfic 2021, all rights reserved. do not modify, translate, or repost my works. modification, translations, and/or redistribution of my works on any platform is strictly prohibited.

[sandbees]

Okay I was thinking about how the other charathers that Arent the great Seven would react to the NRC students in the house of mouse AU. Like i can Imagine Azul asking Ariel if She wants ti make a deal with him and Ariel Is like "lol no", or the First year see Cruella de vil at One of the tables and they are like "She look so much like Crewel that She's giving us PTSD" or kalim and Aladdin becoming buddies :D.

Well, let me put in some headcannons then:

Word goes around that some of the Great Disney villains come to visit Yuu and everyone gets jealous.

So now whenever Yuu goes to work they always get asked to have them visit their world.

So, Yuu just says, “Meh ok, you guys can visit me whenever just ask one of the Great Seven or go through the mirror in my dressing room-“

And suddenly Yuu gets someone they met from the House of Mouse ever other day. It’s literal chaos and Yuu doesn’t know if they should feel exasperated or flattered.

Anyways, here’s some interactions between the dorms and some Disney Characters:

Heartslybul: Obviously when Alice comes to visit, she comments on how Heartslybul reminds her of the Queen of Hearts’ garden. When Yuu mentions that they paint the roses red, Alice sarcastically asks, “Does the dorm leader behead people who don’t paint the roses?” “...Well, he’s more lenient now but...” “...You’re serious?”

Ace and Alice get along swimmingly, basically quick quips and a lot of teasing. Yuu regrets introducing them to each other because they know the two are going to get into some sort of trouble. Deuce also gets along with Alice, though he can get lost in Alice’s rambles in imagination.

I think Alice would get along with Trey and Cater. I mean, they both give big brother vibes (Trey more than Cater). Trey would give Alice some tarts and Alice is like, “....He’s cool.”

Cater is going to take a bunch of pictures, and Alice is very curious about the device he’s holding (I don’t think phones or the internet existed during Alice’s time so...). Cater ends up teaching Alice about the internet and phones.

Riddle...ohhh noo. Once Alice broke one of the 810 rules and Riddle lightly scolded her for it. Alice thinks most of the rules are ridiculous and while Riddle has toned down on being strict, he’ll quickly get annoyed with Alice questioning the rules. There’s rules for a reason! The dorm was founded on these rules!!

Savannaclaw: It’s Simba, obviously. He’s curious to see the dorm after his...nefarious uncle. It’s much more nicer than he expected, though he’s a little off put by the dorm’s...rowdiness.

But he’s impressed with the Magishift practices they have when Yuu showed them.

He likes Jack, right off the bat. Jack has this sense of justice that he can relate to. I think they would get along pretty well. Oh, and probably how strong and buff Jack is.

Simba is wary of Ruggie, due to him being a hyena beastmen. He has...bad memories of hyenas. His wariness is correct, since Ruggie has tried to swindle Simba and Yuu to do some of his work. Does the relationship get better? Only if Yuu makes them hang out with each other haha.

Leona reminds Simba of Scar...to a certain degree. Lazy, cunning, and has this look where it seems like he could be planning something nefarious...

Ok, maybe not that bad, but Simba is weary of Leona. He kind of expected a character similar to Scar since this is the dorm based on him but...still. It’s really odd. It’s kind of rocky, but if Cheka comes over to visit, well...it could get better.

I mean, Leona does find Cheka annoying and calls him a brat but...Simba can tell there’s no malicious desire towards Cheka, which raises Leona’s “evil people don’t interact” list. That doesn’t mean Leona’s in the clear, but he’s ok.

Octavinelle: Surprise, surprise, it’s Ariel! She comes over, human legs and all. (Don’t worry! She got them from the nicer sorcerers). She wanted to visit Yuu and see how great NRC was! They had fun, and then they went to Mostro Lounge.

Ariel is terrified of the Tweels. They give her this...off putting feeling and they’re very intimidating. She does not trust them at all. She does like how they get up close and how they speak as if she’s some poor soul waiting to be taken advantage over.

That’s also why she does not trust Azul at all. He reminds Ariel of Ursula - especially when he tries making a contract with her. Uh-uh, no way. Never again.

This leads to Ariel dubbing NRC a dangerous place for Yuu to stay at. Why doesn’t Yuu come live with her and her family back at her world? Surely it’s much more safer than here! Why, Melody already sees Yuu as a big sibling so why not just stay at the castle permanently?

Ursula fumes at the thought of her enemy trying to take Yuu away and become their parent. That’s her role, dammit!

Scarabia: Kalim invites Aladdin, actually. It’s the most funniest scenario. Yuu mentioned to Kalim about the street rat that wooed the princess and Kalim says, “:00 WE SHOULD INVITE HIM!!” Jamil sighs and facepalms.

It’s actually going great! Aladdin is kind of shocked at the big party that Kalim threw, but it was a great welcome. He’s shook that Kalim apparently trusted Aladdin enough to show him the treasury room. “It’s open for all of the dorm to use! I don’t need much of it!”

Wasn’t NRC rumored to be a villain’s school??? What is this ball of sunshine doing here???

Actually, the Scarabia duo are good in his eyes. Sure, a little rough around the edges with Kalim being a bit too naive and Jamil being more of a watching snake, but they’re better than what he expected. Aladdin gets along with them pretty well!

And then they go on a carpet ride when Kalim introduces Aladdin to his magic flying carpet.

Yuu and Jamil scream at the two of them to get down as they fly across the night sky.

Pomfiore: oh no. Oh no no no. Snow White visiting Pomfiore is like...Neige visiting.

Vil is cold to Snow White, and she knows why. She’s seen the images that Yuu had of this “Neige Leblanc”. He certainly reminds her of her younger days. Which is why she completely understands why Vil is so standoffish of her.

What she doesn’t expect is Rook singing her praises and also kind of...watching her. It’s low key creepy but Yuu says it’s normal and since he doesn’t mean any harm Snow White lets it slide. They do have a good conversation though. Snow White learns to understand Rook’s...eccentric hobbies.

Epel and Snow White go together like apples and oranges. They go pretty well together, but they have contrasting differences. They could be passed of as siblings with their cute looks, as much as Epel hates to admit it. Though I’d like to think they have this “Soft big sister with a gremlin of a little brother” dynamic. Or “Big sister that is harmless but has a badass little bother” dynamic. Just...a cool sibling dynamic, basically.

Ignihyde: Hercules comes by when he hears that a dorm was based off of Hades. He had to see what it was like. He expected the doom and gloom, but he didn’t expect all the technology.

He and Ortho go along swimmingly. I mean, he’s pretty chill around the more upbeat and cheery dorm member, at least. (Seriously, the others were such buzzkills). He also gets a good impression on Idia when Ortho affectionately talks about his big brother! Wow, so the kids here do have a heart! Unlike Hades-

Ok, so as much as Ortho talks so highly of Idia, Hercules does not see how Ortho does. I mean, Idia is a complete shut in and gloomy recluse! Why do you stick around him?! It isn’t until he speaks his mind about that comment does Ortho turn into a crazy murder machine. (“How DARE you speak of that about my brother!!”) Yuu has to save Hercules and the entire dorm before Ortho blows up the school.

So now Hercules sees how inseparable the two are and how much they care for each other, which yeah, that’s pretty cool. (Is also low key jealous, how come his half brothers weren’t like that?)

Diasomnia: Aurora visits with Maleficent. Both do not share ill will after their stories are completed. They actually do make amends. So Maleficent invited Aurora to see her grandson, and Aurora politely accepts.

They have tea with Malleus, and it is a very pleasant conversation. Aurora gets along well with Malleus, even suggesting maybe she should invite him and Maleficent to her kingdom one day. (Maybe when she gives birth to a beautiful baby. Maleficent liked that)

Lilia is also a fun one to be around! Aurora was so surprised by his scare that she had laughed. Ah, what a funny fae! Why, she hadn’t laughed this hard since...well, never. She likes Lilia and will come by if she needs a good laugh.

Poor Sebek though....he acts all uptight around Aurora because she’s a Queen and also aquatinted with Maleficent...he must be respectful to her at all costs! It takes a long time for Sebek to at least act a little casual around her. Maleficent says it’ll take some time, though Aurora isn’t sure if that time will come on her lifetime...but for the meantime, she is still happy to be around Sebek’s presence and have pleasant conversations with him.

Aurora and Silver...ok, let me say this: they got along during a sleepover. The Diasomnia gang + Maleficent and Aurora had a sleepover in the dorms to “better know each other”. I also think Aurora would feel sympathy for Silver if the conversation of him tending to fall asleep came up. Heavens knows she still has her sleepy spells even after her curse was broken.

Also- wofhenod I just imagine Aurora and Silver walking in the forest together and a bunch of animals surround them. (Yuu finds them and cries when they actually attracted a bunch of adorable puppies (or whatever animal you find cute). Cute, adorable animals that are so gentle with them that they start to cry due to stress from being at NRC (Silver and Aurora look at Yuu with concern and gently start comforting them)

Winfendien Suddenly I want a twin dynamic with Silver and Aurora. Even a sibling dynamic would be cool. Just two sleepy siblings that won’t hesitate to kick your ass.