#it is DELIGHTFUL to hear over and over again

[dmitriene]

cw: nasty simon.

accompanying your bluecollar mechanic boyfriend simon riley to his work, you do it more often than not, dragged with him to just sit prettily in the corner of the room while he works, staining himself in machine oil while changing it to some poor bloke that barely knows how things work, getting his shirt all soiled with black, absorbing stains, his gloved hands greasy, sinewy muscles pumped with the strain of working day and webbed over with swelling veins, as you glance curiously over every inch of him.

all these things make him messy, checking the fluid levels, rotating tires, repairing or replacing some obsolete parts in people's cars, doing a lot of long talk by explaining some of the curious ones what exactly he did right now, leaving simon's short hair damp with sweat that drips down his forehead, trailing over his angled neck and dipping below his exposed collarbones, shirt outstretched and worn, hanging low enough to expose his chest, right where it's dappled with darkening hairs and layer of softness.

flushed cheeks decorated with patchy stubble and smudges of soot that often mixes with oil simon gets on his gloves, leaving fat smears on his skin as he tries to wipe off the annoying sweat, and it's less for his own comfort than yours, because he leaves his working place here and there to indulge in your uninterrupted attention, walking in closer with his mouth clashing over yours, sloppy with sharp bites and insistent licking of his tongue inside, filthy with loud, lewd sucks that escape from between you, and he moans unabashedly, cock already strained hard.

simon get's you drunk off the taste and smell of him, smoky, sweaty and leaving a tang of metal in it's wake, something to savor when he gets back to work, hearing the distant rumble of another approaching car, leaving you yet again to watch and nibble down at your kiss swollen, spit moisten lips, bothered by the slick that now oozes out of your pulsing pussy to soak in your panties, and he sees it in the way your thighs cross together, lip tucked beneath your teeth, eyes getting that dazed, sweet look he loves to see.

he get's a handful of your perky ass after asking you to give him a screwdriver from a box laying on the floor, making you all but bent down and present your ass in the air for him to smack, small, stinging slap ringing out along with a squeaky shriek you get out, batting his groping, roughened hands away, but the guy simon talked with walked away for a short smoke, so you lean into the teasing touch, whimpering when his fingers catch at your clothed mound, circling, purring at you to wait just a bit more till his shift ends.

folding your body at the back seat of his truck should he close the service shop, your legs dangling in the cramped space, spread open wide and held tight with simon's calloused, digging fingers coiling beneath your bent knees, his body bowed forward, trapping you against the leathery seat and a closed door as his engorged cock rams into the hot, gripping clutch of your drippy cunt, shaking the vehicle from the force of his thrusts, your delightful sobs and mewls answering his molten groans of your name, splitting your hole beyond repair.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[redcherrykook]

──𐙚 teach me daddy (s & f)

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boyfriend!jungkook x virgin!reader

content: daddy kink, ddlg themes, Jungkook teaching his innocent, virgin gf how to..; touch him (blowjob) and how he touches her (fingering, lil tit play) !! hickies, sweet talk, lowkey dumbification, praise, cumming on stomach, guided, petite oc!!! Size.kink. so much dirty talk. so many pet names, FILTH.

note from cherry: put my whole sopping pussy in this. im a whore. My fav trope pls i hope i did it justice

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Jungkook's lovely, borderline magical finger tips create his usual pieces of invisible art upon your skin, right underneath the frilly fabric of your pink skirt, that top of your soft thigh squished against him, because his lap- specifically the bulge inside of his grey stüssy sweats- has become your favorite spot to sit on. Somewhere in between lush kisses and feathery moans elicited by the fluttered bruises he lays down the lane of your neck, you've understood one thing;

It feels so warm- so good to sit on that tent that forms in your older boyfriends pants, visible every time you bite your lip and stare at him with huge round, pleading eyes- every passing, electrifying fraction of a moment you spend threading through his deliciously laid, tussled mullet, or tracing the colorful lines etched into his hardened muscles, almost like you're coloring the small pictures in with your glittery gel nails.

Feels so good to hear low groans from your boyfriend's throat, experiencing your clit pulsing inside those little lacy panties, while consciously avoiding the sensation of a large wet patch making them cling to your untouched folds, it felt tingly, you had just told him.

"Tingly?" he asks, plucking back a delicate strand of your hair,

"Mhm.. like it wants attention. s'how i feel when i hump my stuffies" another small- fleeting detail you deemed insignificant, however it continues to feed into the hunger growling primally in jungkook's chest, wanting to expand outward, tear out of his gentle strokes that accidentally find your nipples, on occasions where he should be content with your petite frame inside the solid embrace of his own- oh so hungry body.

But he isn't content, not now that you've revealed you're pussy has kissed the very stuffies he's bought for you, seen you go starry eyed at.

His mind races with images of you- you in your bare glory, one he hasn't seen but there is no doubt in his mind you're an angel, sat on top of that plush hello kitty, dragging your wet, overstimulated clit over it's button nose- over and over, until there's drool running down the corners of your pout- until your eyebrows crunch together in pure delight. He wonders if you're the type to beg, ramble out your needs like a lost little deer.

His cock throbbs in anticipation, his primal instincts scream for him to take care of you whole, explore every inch of your sweet, sweet vessle. Jungkook has to know more- has to know everything.

"And how does my pretty girl hump her stuffies?" he innocently questions, hiking his hands up further on your small legs, crawling to your inner thighs, the digits raise goosebumps on your skin and a pink hue on your cheeks, it complements you- he thinks, harmonizing with your glossy pink lips.

"Hmph.. jus'.. sit on them.. r-rub back.. n' forth" your whispered reply has him drop into a lower, deeper tone, assessing how your body subconsciously responds to his teasing, bucks forward the smallest, almost unnoticeable bit.

"And what happens when babygirl does that?" you whine- leaning your lips to ghost against his own, the tingly feel rises again, floods your panties in an instant because his sudden dominance drowns you in its strangling hold,

"I feel good"

Jungkook creeps his large palm up, cupping your pussy boldy through the thin girlish fabric,

"Haa-ah" moaning, you give way into his palm, playing into his hands because you belong no where else, in response, his thumb extends, rubbing over where your clit sits puffily,

"Yeah..? right here is where it feels good, doesn't it princess?" liquid smooth as he talks, applying pressure to your needy bud,

"Mhm" you nod- whimpering against his pierced lip. In the flashes of his tight circles, you cannot bring yourself to keep your mouths attached- to focus on maintaining a healthy breath when your flower is being treated with the most careful sexuality "This feels better daddy" you say airyly, lips barely touching.

His breath stalls before it hitches once again- the title found him so righteously, so naturally succumbing to his deserved role- your daddy.

"Fuck sugar, it does hm? Let daddy take care of you, make you feel all warm and tingly"

After all, you're his special little princess,

The one with a cute pout that he wishes to see wrapped around his angry cock, he had envisioned this moment countless of times, fisting himself late at night- the soft snores come from your end of the phone, purely, innocently sleeping in the white glow of your screen, big, soft facial features lay peacefully against your pillow.

Even though the sins run carelessly on his end- he never bothered to mute himself, you kept sleeping, dreaming away,

Somtimes, he desired for you to wake up; he'd groan a bit louder, more vulgar with his endless cussing, thought about how your pupils grow wide, how your lips would part into a gasp- wish that you'd timidly run your thumb over your clit at the unfamiliar warmth spreading through your little purity, ruined, emerged in his perversion.

You nod, already going droopy eyed at the simple action of his thumb thrumming your pearl,

The cold air hits your sopping cunt as he peels your delicate panties to the side, giving him a full view of your flower, skin slick with desire

"You have the prettiest little pussy, so cute, does she want to be played with?" his tone is so- so gentle, yet, its dripping with power, entranced with the view of his- yes his very own digits that faintly glide between your folds,

"Yes- nghh shit- koo" your manicured nails dig into his meaty thighs, grounding yourself in a failed attempt to hold your head up, the foreign urgency consumes your entire being with it's intensity,

"Look at me sugar" he commands, growling lowly, his eyes squint to the ones of a predator, you- his prey, look at him like he has always known you would- wide eyed, doe eyed, awaiting his instructions

"Good girl. Now tell me again, do you want daddy to show you how to feel really good hm? How to play with your tiny cunt?"

You nod dumbly, letting out the smallest sounding yes that had ever grazed his ears, he purrs, taking in the effort with an open heart,

"Suck on them, need them nice and wet, can you do that for me princess?" his fingers intrude your bitten lips, forcing his digits to collide with your tongue, eagerly- messily and uncoordinated, you swirl your tongue around them, humming as he withdraws- letting out a satisfied groan

You wince a bit upon the proding of his fingertips against your entrance, unexpectedly, you look at him- begging for him to take you with him, guide you by the hand along everything he does, take your hand like a good daddy should.

The substantial need to make you feel safe takes over again, courses throughout his entire being because you look so vulnerable like this, so barely laid out for him to consume.

"it's okay babygirl, it's gonna feel so good. Daddy's gonna put a finger inside this pussy, you'll feel a bit full, but my precious little girl's so good, she can take it all" he can feel your body relax on top of his lap, as if your muscles let go of all tension with his reassurances- he's on the edge of feeling bad for wanting to ruin your purity.

But he does it regardless.

Wet, sloppy sounds fill your ears as he pumps his finger inside of you. The rhythm starts slowly, one push- one long drag between your folds before returning to pulling out, pushing back in carefully. He studies the subtle change in your expression, diligently grasping at the strings of your arousal- his own eyes can't choose between the look of lust on your face and his hand colliding with your sweetness, feeling how you suck his finger in with every fiber of your being, so untouched, so pure- so, so needy.

You squirm, wrap your hand around his bulging bicep- "Daddy- that feels so good, feels so so good" you continue mumbling, singing the cutest moans to numb his thoughts, feed his hunger, he turns greedy- allowing himself to drown in you entirely, granting himself premission to increass his speed, push in deeper- you gratify him, become louder, whiner, give yourself over because truthfully- you didn't know anything outside of how good it feels to be fingered like this.

"Yeahhh, feels so good to have daddy's fingers? think you can take another one?" Patiently he waits for your allowance- and once he heared that needy voice of yours, calling out for him to push another finger in, he snaps,

"Fuck sugar, look at you, such good girl f'me, feel so full don't you?" His lips latch back on to your neck as he pumps into you faster, curling his fingers into you like he's crawling into your body, establishing his ability to make you squirm- make you whimper and lose that pretty head of yours in his sinful lure.

So you do lose yourself- start whining for him to keep hitting that spot- right there daddy- you beg,

"Yeah? My babygirl loves this- loves my fingers making your cunt feel good. All mine, my little pussy, no one can have you like this"

"Right there ohh? Can you say that again sugar?" Thoughtlessly, obediently ylu start repeating, rehearsing the words like you're summoning him- your legs jerk, contract the muscle with a moan so pronounced jungkook could cum all over himself at the pure nuance of it.

"mmhm! s'too much- feels like i- like i'm gonna-" Your eyes roll far into your skull at the lingering of his teeth on your jaw, his tongue that shamelessly licks a strip up to your ear so he can coax you into intoxicating pleasure.

"Like what little girl? Gonna make a mess?"

At that- at the last syllable of his sentence, you release your arousal over the whole long inches of his fingers that are still relentlessly pushing into your hole, plucking out roughly- shoved back in, "Goood girl" he rasps, slapping his soaked fingertips over your overstimulated cunt. You did not know better than to leave gasps into his now bitten, ridiculously broad shoulder, shudder in overstimulation, tug at the roots of his chocolate mullet,

Your bedroom grows quiet, pleasure rings in your ears, wrecks you from the top of your head to your toes, colorful sparks fly behind your eyelids as it keeps going, keeps flooding out of your body like it had never done before.

Your boyfriends entire demeanor changes once his ragged breathing returns to soft hums, his healing hands cover more than half of your back and he just lets you bathe in the aftershocks, "Did so well for daddy, my good girl" The whispers find your hair, his pecks follow, decorating your journey back to a grounded reality with beautiful stars, safety,

As he´s rubbing up and down your back under the fabric of your cami, your skin erupts into familiar goosebumps, only this time, he feels your stiff nipples rub against his own, sweaty chest, the friction makes you hiss involuntairly,

"How do i feel good here ?" The muttered curiosity behind your words makes Jungkook moan audibly- reaches his hands to slide around your torso, your rips flutter in response, "Let me show you"

Your cami shrivles up over the swell of your small chest, cupped snuggly in your white sparkly bra, his hands cover your entire breasts easily, the twinkle in his vision is unmistakable,

lust, utter need

"Gon´ pull these down baby, show your pretty body to me" vision going white, he rushes to wrap his lips around the stiff bud, encircling it with his tongue, "All mine, my tits, my little girl, these belong to me" He takes his time- devours you, flicking the tip of his tongue over and over, you recoil forward, moan helplessly under how good he´s making you feel,

Jungkook returns the favour, moans into your skin that arches closer into his mouth,

"Want me to give you some attention too? Gonna rub it like this baby, roll it in between your fingers" The instructions help to remember what is happening between the chasm of gasps and whimpers, the throbbing between your aching legs returns in unbearable force- rises with every collision of his rough palms rounding your soft skin, he nibbles, sucks, bites gracefully into the sensitive flesh.

"Daddy- daddy stop please" the wet sensation leaves in the blink of an eye, his gaze glistens over with worry- hands immediately running to your comfort, soothing your arms, "M´sorry my love, too much? Wanna stop here?"

You shake your head violently, wanting to sob at the thought of stopping, you´ve never felt need like this, urges like this- borderline possessed as you tug at his waistband, his eyes widen, holding both your wrists in his calloused hand "Woah babygirl, slow down, what is it that daddy´s princess wants?" He asks genuinely, running his lips over your jaw but his cock betrays him, throbs painfully as you whimper for him, mutter for him to show you how to make him feel good too. He didn't want to pretend to be innocent anymore- your boyfriend had been praying to have you like this, why would he deny you if you so desperately wish to pleasure him anyways?

Feverishly, your small hands expose his member, appreciating the hard outline in his calvins before reaching in- finding the warm length that can, in no way, fit even in the grasp of both your fidgety hands,

"It´s so pretty, so big" You praise, staring in awe at the sight in front of you, a pearl of his arousal runs down alongside the vein of his shaft, Jungkook growls, scratching your scalp with his tattooed hand,

"All yours. come on sugar, little kisses, lick it a bit, i´ll be loud for you"

It´s not like it was his choice regardless, not when you lay your tongue flat against his tip, tracing every inch of him. You lick up and down his pulsating cock, look up at him through your feminine, innocently batted eyelashes as if to ask if he feels good- he groans, tightens his hand with each torturous slow lick to him, how could he not feel good?

"Good little girl, taking daddy so well, need you to take it in your mouth now okay? Can you be good and try to swallow daddy´s cock?"

You nod- god you´d do anything he asks, hesistantly, your lips coat his fat tip, opening your throat as he feeds you his girth, hitting the back of your throat in an instant- you try your best to ignore the gag, focus on the wetness of your cunt and his breathless curses.

It´s even more erotic than he had imagined, you do pout; your lips barely fit in his cock, not able to get half of it into the confined space of your jaw- his stomach flips at your hand that wraps around the rest of him- while the other one clenches his inner thigh for support, marks his skin in reminders. The look in your willing eyes, the struggle to take his inches as your own spit escapes your mouth- it´s becoming something he will get addicted to in no time,

"Ssh i know daddy´s big babygirl, but you´re made for me, breathe through your nose, goood job baby" its fuel, fuel to your insatiable greed for him, you follow instinct, bob up and down with the help of his hand on the back of your head, throat contracting around him and shit- Jungkook is sure if your throat is this tight sucking him off, your virgin pussy must feel like heaven too.

"Just like thaaat, yeah sugar, makin´ me feel so fucking good" He continues, thighs flexing with the constricting feeling in his balls, release bubbles up fast, rapidly banging his system- your boyfriend grips you by the jaw, to have you make eye contact with his half lidded brown stars, "Lay down f´me"

Sprawled out, tummy laid open, your hair flows over your tits, eyes watch him stroking his cock in heavy, aggressive movements, rubbing his thumb over the pink swollen tip- he pants, groans so fucking loud you instinctively spread your thighs for him- clenching around nothing- begging silently for him to give you everything.

At the sight of your cunt covered in your own, copious amount of slick and previous orgasm, he´s struck down mercilessly, it rides him over the edge and soon enough, he splurts his milky cum all over your lower stomach, he shakes- calls out for you.

"My little princess, look so beautiful like this, god i fucking love you"

You giggle girlishly- a sound from the deep chambers of your now, perverted heart as he engulfs you in his hold, "Baby you´re-" his mouth finds yours again, not letting you protest but he's soft, grateful "I don´t care, you´re mine, my baby, all mine" Another kiss, another smile, "Thank you, thank you sugar" he mumbles, holding your flushed out cheeks in his big hands, searching for familiar innocents within your face and unsurprisingly so, he still discovers it.

[fangdokja]

"Romance is a garbage genre, but if I have to play, I might as well do it on easy mode."

♡ Book. Whispers in the Dark (WITD): Subtle Devotion, Lingering Shadows.

♡ Word Count. 1,366

♡ Yandere! Love Interests who don’t appreciate your attempt at speedrunning this otome hellhole by seducing minor NPCs.

♡ Yandere! Love Interests who have already survived multiple assassination attempts from you—poison, garrote, magic entrapment, even a sacred blade through the chest—and instead of dying like normal people, they decided this was romantic foreplay.

♡ Yandere! Love Interests who, after watching you reject every romantic flag, every heartfelt confession, every predestined moment of emotional awakening, are forced to endure the ultimate insult: you, in your deadpan, anti-romance disgust, deciding that if you must complete a route, it will be with some irrelevant, bottom-tier, side-character background NPC.

You do not care that he’s an unimportant knight with three dialogue lines. You do not care that his face sprite barely moves. You do not care that he is written solely to make the main love interests look better.

You are logic incarnate. If you must be trapped in this hellish world, then you will find the most harmless, disposable, and easiest-to-manipulate idiot to romance your way to an ending and finally escape.

Except—

♡ Yandere! Crown Prince who walks into the throne room just in time to see you smiling at a low-ranking baron. Who hears you utter sweet, rehearsed nonsense with all the emotion of a dead fish but still—still—sees your fingers lightly graze his sleeve.

It takes him 0.2 seconds to recognize the threat.

He laughs. Loudly. A dangerous, triumphant sound that echoes through the halls like a death knell. The guards, the nobles, the advisors—every soul present—stiffens in collective terror.

Because it is not a sound of amusement. It is a sound of calculation.

"You," he says, voice warm but distant, like a blade dipped in honey. "Would choose this man over me?"

You roll your eyes. "Yes."

His gaze does not waver. His smile does not falter.

And then, without breaking eye contact with you, he runs his sword clean through the baron’s chest.

The entire room erupts into chaos. The nobles scream. Blood splatters across your dress, warm and sticky. You take a slow breath, calculating exit routes, already planning your next escape.

He steps closer. There is a terrifying, frenzied delight in his eyes.

"Try that again," he murmurs, his breath warm against your temple, "and I will erase every man in this kingdom."

———

♡ Yandere! Archduke who catches you attempting to flirt with a random scholar in the library.

You are sitting beside him, pretending to be interested in whatever history text he is reading, nodding along, offering the occasional hum of agreement. The scholar, barely able to believe his luck, stammers as he tries to keep up a conversation.

And then—the air turns cold. Suffocatingly, skin-pricklingly cold.

A shadow looms over the table.

"Ah," the Archduke drawls, voice dripping with mockery. "I see you've found a new toy, darling. How precious."

You do not react. You merely turn the page of your book. "Can I help you?"

The scholar, a fool, is still trying to piece together why his instincts are screaming at him to run.

The Archduke smiles at you—a perfect, fanged smile that does not reach his eyes. He leans over, placing one gloved hand on the table, the other coming to rest on the scholar’s shoulder.

"Did you know," he muses, "that there is a rather fascinating execution method in the East?"

The scholar pales. "I—I’m sorry?"

"They strip the skin from a man’s fingers first," the Archduke continues, eyes locked onto yours, waiting for a reaction. "Then they move onto the arms. Then the torso. All while keeping him alive."

You sigh. "Subtle."

He grins. "I do try."

And then, with a single movement, he drives a dagger through the scholar’s hand, pinning it to the table.

The scholar screams.

The Archduke watches your face carefully, waiting for the moment when you might flinch, might show fear.

You do not.

You merely close your book, rise from your seat, and mutter, "I’ll find another one."

His smile widens. "No, you won’t."

———

♡ Yandere! Supreme Mage who catches you in the act of slipping aphrodisiac-laced tea to an unsuspecting alchemist.

You figured—if you must suffer, you will suffer efficiently. The alchemist is harmless. He will fall in love quickly. The route will be easier.

You do not expect the teacup to vanish mid-air.

Nor do you expect to feel a hand grasp the back of your neck, tilting your chin up to meet dark, unreadable eyes.

"Ah," the Supreme Mage murmurs, inspecting you as if you are a particularly fascinating experiment. "Creative."

Your expression remains unimpressed. "Do you mind?"

He does not release you. If anything, his grip tightens, a soft hum vibrating from his throat.

"This is fascinating," he muses, studying you the way a scientist studies a specimen. "Tell me, did you choose him because he is weak? Because he is controllable?"

He tilts his head. "Or because you thought I wouldn’t notice?"

You stare at him, blank and unbothered. "Yes."

For a moment, there is only silence.

Then—your body locks up.

Magic pulses through your veins, foreign, overwhelming, suffocating. Your lungs tighten. Your limbs refuse to obey. Your knees hit the floor.

The Supreme Mage kneels beside you, trailing a gloved finger down your cheek.

"You are so utterly resistant to romance," he murmurs, "and yet so very good at manipulation."

He leans closer, his lips brushing against your ear.

"How delightful."

———

♡ Yandere! Demon King who burns an entire village to the ground because he saw you smile at a commoner.

The smell of charred wood and flesh fills the air. The screams are already fading.

You stand at the edge of the destruction, arms crossed, staring up at him.

He watches you in turn.

He does not speak at first.

Neither do you.

The silence is filled with the sound of flames crackling, of dying breath rattling in collapsed lungs.

Finally, he exhales. Slow. Almost measured.

"You are angry," he notes, voice a low, gravel-raked hum of amusement.

Your fingers curl against your sleeves. You breathe in smoke, exhale exhaustion.

"That was unnecessary."

His head tilts, considering. "Was it?"

Your eyes meet his—burning, devouring, endless.

"Yes."

He steps forward. The ground trembles beneath his weight.

"Then tell me," he murmurs, clawed fingers reaching, gliding along your jaw with a touch as reverent as it is possessive. "Why do I feel so utterly justified?"

Your gaze does not waver. You have never feared him.

"You saw me smile at someone, and you slaughtered them all."

He hums, deep and pleased. "Yes."

There is no remorse in his tone. There never is.

You inhale again—slow, deliberate, as if to cleanse yourself of the rot curling at the edges of your reality.

"You would rather throw yourself into the arms of some pathetic, forgettable insect than accept me?"

"Yes."

The smile that spreads across his lips is a slow, creeping thing. A patient, monstrous thing.

He lifts his hand from your jaw, brushing a clawed thumb across your lower lip, dragging it down—a promise, a claim, a warning.

"Then I will remove every option."

Behind him, the last of the screaming dies.

There is only fire now.

And then—gently, effortlessly, inexorably—

He tilts your chin up and kisses you.

The world behind you burns.

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If you want to be added or removed from the tag list, just comment on the MASTERLIST of Whispers in the Dark (WITD): Subtle Devotion, Lingering Shadows. Thank you.

General TAG LIST of “Whispers In The Dark”: @keisocool , @elvabeth , @elloredef , @mjsjshhd , @lem-hhn , @yuki-istired , @lilyalone , @starryperson

❤︎ Fang Dokja's Books.

♡ Book 1. A Heart Devoured (AHD): A Dark Yandere Anthology ♡ Book 2. Forbidden Fruits (FF): Intimate Obsessions, Unhinged Desires. ♡ Book 3. World Ablaze (WA) : For You, I'd Burn the World. ♡ Book 4 [you are here]. Whispers in the Dark (WITD): Subtle Devotion, Lingering Shadows. ♡ Book 5. Ink & Insight (I&I): From Dead Dove to Daydreams.

[raytoebiter]

viv. kick me (written work)

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It's 4:37PM when the harsh beams of sunlight finally mellow down to a mere soft glow that blankets the whole interior in a delicate color. It's also 4:37PM when you finally reach the café and the bell chimes emit a pleasant noise you're accustomed to.

“Oh, dear [Name]!” A voice laced with so much delight greets you, and you can only return it with a grin of your own, “how was school today?”

You slipped the snoopy slippers on, already dragging yourself over to your grandma whose arms are prepared wide and open for the hug that you've always looked forward to.

It never fails to soothe the tension in your shoulders when she rubs a particular spot.

“School was fine,” you sighed absentmindedly.

“'Is that so? Speaking of school, where's your friend?”

Your gut squirms in annoyance, frowning at the way her eyes spark up so childishly despite being adorned with wrinkles.

Friend, my ass.

Irked, a groan left your lips, “he’s probably gonna be here soon.”

The word, ‘soon’ sounds so bitter in your mouth. You just fought with the guy earlier at morning classes because–who the fuck even throws a dildo at someone's face!?

Your face burns, unaware of your grandmother chuckling in satisfaction until she's already pulling you near to the counter, “I'll make you hot chocolate, and after this, you can turn the sign over.”

Okay, do not think about Scaramouche. Do not think.

You gulped, urging the damn Incident away from your weary mind, “swiss miss?”

She grinned with a blink, “of course! Now, hurry up and sit! you’re gonna have a long day today, missy.”

Save me, you clench your jaw, god, save me from this 6-Hour-Shitshow..

Sighing, you deliberately and slowly place the phone back to the counter, head tilting abnormally to peek at the entrance of the café—and there he is. All in his glory, the Almighty Twink-A-Fuck.

You gulp. Deep breaths. Step. Walk. Step.

“Hey,” you half-assedly smile, lightly knocking onto one of the square windows on the door.

His hair bounces when he perks up from his phone, imperceptible widened eyes catching onto yours before it shifts to those narrowed eyes you're more accustomed to.

“Why the fuck are your doors locked.” Not a question. You shrug, already reaching out to the lock.

“Cats often get in here because they know how to open doors,” a pseudo smile reaches your lips, sweetness lacing your voice, “and ‘sides, I forgot you were coming.”

Scaramouche rolls his eyes. A bell chime fills the silence, and you step over to the side as he enters.

A bright shine catches your peripheral as Scaramouche enters into the café without a care in the world, and holy–

Is that a fucking porsche!?

You abruptly whip your head to Scaramouche—who seems way too busy absorbing the interior of your café as if the asshole hasn't already been here a week ago—before whipping it back to the Shiny Glamorous Porsche. Because, what the fuck.

Okay, listen. You're not exactly an expert in The Damn Art of Cars but a Porsche had been on your wish list for years. God forbid the amount of times you've ratted off of your grandmother's ears as a child about how much you've salivated over damn metas and engines. At this point, you'd probably rather fuck a vehicle than a perso–

—A gasp. Then, horror. Absolute horror dawning in those indigo eyes. And.. and mirth? The fuck–

“You do realize you just said those outloud, right,” he deadpanned, voice tinted with indifference and amusement. Like what you said was the most appropriate thing. I mean, then again, you've said far worse things, but god–in the café? Where your dearest grandmother is quite literally just meters above your head? And could potentially hear you despite the thick hardwood floors?

That thought sends electricity to your body.

Pathetically, you sputtered, alternating between defending yourself, telling him to shut up because your grandmother is literally just upstairs and reasoning that, hey, can't you just let a girl nerd out? Only to end up giving him the Fuck-You finger when not even a coherent sentence ended up leaving your lips after a mere 3 minutes of full on panicking.

..Yeah, get that, motherfucker.

“Okay,” he drawls facetiously, after seconds of radio silence, “So, you want to fuck my car. Cool. My car's cool too.”

I swear I will haunt this asshole to death when I become a ghost.

“Shut up! Shut up, shut up. I don't want to hear it. Shut up.” resigned, your hand points to a double boiler, as he lets his gaze unceremoniously follow it.

Again, he snorts at the quaint sound of water boiling.

Then, he turns back to you with a sneer and a knowing lint in those fucking goddamn eyes, “well, whatever. I'll be in your care then, fruitcake.”

–

“Number 12 on the counter, please!”

Okay. So, even though you thought the Twink Fucker implied to be an absolute nuisance roughly three hours ago, he's actually surprisingly decent in the field. He knows how to do a few latte art, can brew an Americano correctly at least, and is mildly, overall experienced at it.

And admittedly, the way he moves around the area would what you call a fucking graceful dance shitshow. Listen, you're not one to exaggerate, but hell if you don't admit that the asshole frankly looks like he's dancing around while brewing damn espressos.

(You can feel bile gathering up in your esophagus when you ponder more over the damn poise he has.)

Presently, it's been three hours since the shift had started, and you've done nothing but scrutinising the Twink-Ass with keen eyes as your grandmother had given you the task to.

And embarrassingly enough, it seems you're not the only one, guessing with how much habitués has been ogling the mysterious new face at the counter. You're pretty sure that neither of them has the balls to ask, considering they linger quite a bit longer in favor of inspecting the asshole’s face instead of asking for his damn number.

However, as time ticked by, an old lady whom you recognize as that one lady who sells adult toys on a sidewalk manages the balls to ask. However, when she does ask, she doesn't ask the asshole. No, no, she comes to you. With the most expectant shine in her eyes and a girl’s name rolling off of her tongue.

And you, who have decided to be the kindest, offer the old lady 10 numbers with a note that you managed to write behind Scaramouche’s back, “tell your granddaughter to spam his phone; he likes those things in a woman,” followed by a wink. It's clear she's a bit perplexed, but she nods anyway.

That's revenge for the fucking dildo, asshole.

Four hours pass, and the café finally settles down as the end of the shift steadily approaches. And it's then that Scaramouche finally and unfortunately breaks the streak of not talking to you for four hours straight.

He approaches with the same pseudo smile he offers to the customers and with a patronising tone, he asks, “so? how’d I do?”

Absolute dogshit. I don't want you here.

“I’ll send my feedback to grandma later,” you sardonically smiled, avoiding the question as you tilt your head to the short stack of papers on the rickety table.

His attention flitted between you and the paper all the while having his lips pursed into that smile before dropping his facade and clicking his tongue.

“What? Don't tell me you were expecting flattery,” you snorted.

In return, he grimaced, “ew, god, no. I don't consider your flattery to be worthy enough to brood over.”

Your brows raised, “careful, now. your job is quite literally in my hands right now.”

The grimace only deepened before it twisted to a scowl, “I'll just find a new one if you ever do fire me from here.”

“As if anyone would ever accept your nasty ass.”

“Your nanny did.”

“That's ‘cause she doesn't know what you're like in school.”

Incredulity coursed through his features before chuckling, the sound itself bitter, “you sound like someone that I really fucking hate.”

“You do hate me,” you answered, simple and true. Not that you were ever bothered by it; you hated him too.

Then, in a fleeting moment, his gaze flickered to you, a confused glimmer in them as his brows raised the slightest bit as he reluctantly replied, “no, I fucking don't?”

The fuck?

Your stomach twisted, feeling the familiar sting in the back of your throat, “what?”

“Not as much as I hate that someone, anyway,” his voice silent yet so full of resentment before a newly complacent tone replaces it, “Also, I dislike you, asswipe.”

Oh, okay. You frowned. What's the difference? Did the word, ‘hate’ have a much deeper meaning? Weren't they just the same?

“..Well, I hate you,” you don't miss the way his face dropped to a deadpan, “that one's really obvious.”

“Yeah,” he rolled his eyes, leaning against the counter with an elbow propped on one of the sturdy machines, “really fucking obvious.”

This time, you respond with a glare.

In return, you get a disgusting tongue stuck out to you before he annoyingly decides to spare you the time and gazes off somewhere to the distance instead–blissfully ignoring your glares of daggers and muttered profanities.

Of course the peace doesn't last long.

"What's up with you and fucking Porsches anyway?"

A sigh, "please just shut up."

Then surprisingly, he does shut up. He did scoff though. Your gaze moved to the clock just right above the entrance.

9:47PM. Two hours left before your bedtime. You could wait it out and send the asshole home. But then again.. maybe you could overwork the asshole.

Under the guise of reluctance, you break the silence, “I’ll go clean up. We’ll switch from here, and then you can go home after.”

His head snapped to you, slightly tilted, “switch?”

“Yeah, switch. You go help grandma upstairs and I'll take care of the stuff from here. And, I'm pretty sure the pastries will be here at around..” you shot a glance at the clock again, noting the time, “twelve minutes from now, so off you go.”

As if contemplating, he narrowed his eyes before a smirk tugged at his lips and he tauntly drawls, “sure, whatever you say, fruitcake.”

A vein throbs in your temple. You could handle other names like dumbass, ass-kisser (???), fuckwipe, dickwad and other things you'd prefer not thinking about but this? It.. just sounds so..

“..Annoying. Fucking annoying.”

He rolls his eyes with a snort, already turning on his heels and heading to the staff room, “tell me something that's new, asswipe.”

"Back door's the exit for the staff here, by the way!"

The door clicked to a close, and you briefly wondered if he heard you or not.

..Well, nevertheless, you hope he wakes up with the most fucked up body ache known to mankind.

───────────────────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆───────────────────

|| previous episode - next episode. ||

───〃★tunes of your heartbeat masterlist

synopsis: in which your fate somehow gets entangled into a messy jumble between punk music in cozy cafés, intense rivalry, cherished yakults, parallelograms and quantum physics, competitions in contests and rainy days. or in other words; the universe seems to fucking hate your guts for whatever reason and decided to curse your love life with your awful crass emo twink-a-fuck rival. the question is; did the curse work?

taglist (50/50): @toekissers , @raineyun @localscarasimp , @potteraep , @shutingstar , @feiherp , @scaraenthusiast1 @dazqa , @wraithisd3adinside , @x-hihihi-x , @court-jester-stuff , @automaticpatroltragedy , @lalalaloveallmydays , @trulyylee , @jayzioxx , @featuredtofu @kazemiya @help-whatdoimakemyusername , @skyoverkill1 @phoenix-eclipses , @anqelkoz , @miyakomari @saechiro @franaby , @swivi , @vixialuvs , @heusalettle @kunikissr @yomishen @mywillt0live , @baldrapunzel @jiminscarmex @sushitushi, @liuaneee , @shynsgore , @mechanicalbeat1 , @marivaudages , @okukura , @azzumei @lucid1tty @iloveescara @usagiarchive @kyouzki @theunhingedmf @kangyeonie @mi2ukiss @bubblebellaz @eternallykira-143 @lumiicch

• featured song - nothing's gonna change my love for you by george benson

authors' notes - i tried my best in writing scara as VAGUE as fucking possible while also keeping the brandname of him being a fake idgafer💜 also you know those people who tries so hard to wink but just can't? i imagined that with [name]'s grandma and i just fucking cackled at the image lmfao

p.s - if u don't know the meaning of the song scara had on the last pic then i suggest u do a google search😋😋😋 gonna be a big ass foreshadowing

(ask to be added or removed)

[antinousletmehit]

˚₊‧꒰ა Chapter 13 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

⋆˚࿔ Book 2 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

୨୧┇Telemachus x reader

୨୧┇so….ahem….implied sa…and a bunch of bad stuff, physical abuse

────୨ৎ──── ────୨ৎ──── ───

Raphael sat cross legged on the lush carpet in his private chambers, his usual air of arrogance softened as he balanced Adonis on his knee. The baby giggled, his chubby hands reaching for the gold pendant Raphael dangled in front of him like a toy. “Look at you,” Raphael said, his voice unusually tender, a smile tugging at his lips. “Already reaching for gold. A true heir to the Skiaphos throne.”

Y/n stood a few feet away, leaning against the doorframe. Her arms were crossed tightly over her chest, her nails digging into her skin as she watched the scene unfold. Adonis’s laughter filled the room, and for a moment, she could almost forget where she was, until reality came crashing back. Adonis reached out again, his tiny fingers brushing against the pendant. “Pa…pa…”

She froze. Her heart clenched painfully in her chest. She blinked, not sure if she’d just imagined it. But then Adonis said it again, clearer this time, his wide eyes locking onto Raphael. “Papa!”

Raphael’s entire face lit up. He scooped Adonis up, spinning him around as the baby squealed with delight. “That’s right! Papa!” he said proudly, holding Adonis high in the air. “You clever boy.”

She felt like her heart had shattered into a million pieces. That word—papa—was meant for Telemachus, for the man who had cradled Adonis when he first entered the world, who had whispered promises of love and protection to their son. It wasn’t meant for him. But she bit her lip hard, refusing to let the tears spill. Crying wouldn’t help her now. Showing any weakness in front of Raphael would only give him more satisfaction.

Raphael turned to her, his smirk widening as he caught the flicker of pain in her eyes. “Hear that, little birdie? Even your son knows where he belongs now.” He walked over to her, still holding Adonis, and leaned in closer. “This is how it should be. A happy family.”

She forced a tight smile, though her jaw ached from clenching it so hard. “Yes. A happy family,” she echoed, her voice barely above a whisper. Inside, she was screaming. But for Adonis’s sake, she swallowed her anguish and stood there, silently enduring.

——

The moonlight filtered through the sheer curtains of Raphael’s opulent chamber, casting a silver glow over y/n as she lay asleep on the massive bed. Her face was serene, her chest rising and falling gently with each breath, and strands of her hair spilled over the pillow like silk. Raphael sat in a chair beside the bed, his elbows resting on his knees, his chin propped on his clasped hands as he stared at her. His expression was unreadable, but his violet eyes were filled with an intensity that bordered on obsession.

“She’s perfect,” he whispered to himself, his voice barely audible over the faint rustle of the curtains. “My love.” He leaned forward slightly, as if afraid to wake her but unable to stop himself from being closer. There was something about the way she looked in this vulnerable state that made his chest ache with something he couldn’t name, something that felt dangerously close to love, though he wouldn’t admit it.

Raphael’s gaze trailed over her delicate features, pausing on her slightly parted lips. He reached out as if to touch her face, but his hand hovered in the air, trembling slightly before he pulled it back. “You’re mine now,” he murmured, his voice a mix of affection and possession. “And one day, you’ll see that this is where you belong. With me.”He stayed there for what felt like hours, watching her sleep, memorizing every detail of her face as if afraid it might change. For a brief moment, he allowed himself to imagine a life where she wasn’t so defiant, where she looked at him with love instead of resentment.

But even in sleep, there was a faint crease in her brow, a subtle reminder of the walls she had built to keep him out. It frustrated him, but it also fueled his determination. Raphael finally leaned back in his chair, letting out a soft sigh. “One day,” he whispered, more to himself than to her. “You’ll understand, y/n. You’ll love me.”

And with that, he stayed by her side, his lovesick gaze never leaving her as slowly unclasped her chiton, she wouldn’t mind right? After all he was her husband, and his is what husbands do to their wives. His hands carefully removed her gown from her body. He deserved to feel her.

——

Y/n woke with a start, her chest heaving as tears streamed down her face. The oppressive weight of her situation hit her like a wave, her mind racing with images of everything Raphael had done to her, everything he’d taken away. She curled herself into a ball on the edge of the bed, clutching her knees to her chest as sobs racked her body. She muffled her cries in the crook of her arm, afraid to make too much noise, but the pain was too much to bear in silence. The room was dimly lit by the moonlight seeping through the curtains, and the air felt suffocating despite its vastness.

Raphael stirred beside her, grumbling something incoherent before turning onto his side. His voice, rough with sleep, broke through her cries. “Shut up, y/n,” he muttered, not even bothering to open his eyes. “Stop your overdramatic whining. It’s exhausting.” His words cut through her like a blade, but she wasn’t surprised. She bit her lip to stifle her cries, her body shaking as she hugged herself tighter. The coldness of his tone only made her tears fall harder, but she forced herself to stay silent, not wanting to provoke him further.

Y/n stared at the shadows on the wall, feeling more alone than ever. Her heart ached for Telemachus, for Adonis, for the life that had been ripped away from her. She wanted to scream, to fight back, but the chain around her wrist and the man lying beside her reminded her of the power he held over her. She turned her face into the pillow, letting the sobs silently consume her until exhaustion finally pulled her back into restless sleep. Beside her, Raphael remained undisturbed, his breathing steady, completely unbothered by the torment he’d caused.

—-

The morning light streamed through the windows as she sat in the corner of the room, her arms wrapped tightly around herself. She flinched at every sound, her eyes darting to every shadow that shifted. Servants approached her tentatively, offering food and water, but she refused to let anyone near. Her trembling hands clutched at the fabric of her dress, her breath shallow and uneven. “Leave me alone,” she whispered hoarsely to one of the maids, her voice cracking. When the girl hesitated, her eyes widened in fear, and she snapped, “I said go!”

The servants exchanged nervous glances before backing away, muttering amongst themselves. The tension in the air was palpable. Raphael entered the room, his imposing figure casting a shadow over her. He took one look at her trembling frame and the untouched breakfast on the table, and his jaw tightened. “Enough of this nonsense,” he said coldly, his voice echoing through the room.

She flinched at his tone, pressing herself further into the corner as if she could disappear into the walls. “Don’t,” she murmured, shaking her head.

Raphael’s patience wore thin. He strode toward her with purposeful steps, his eyes dark and unforgiving. “You’re acting like a child,” he snapped. When she recoiled from him, he let out a low growl of frustration.

“Don’t touch me!” She shrieked, her voice breaking as she tried to shuffle away. That was the last straw. Raphael grabbed a fistful of her hair, yanking her head back sharply. Pandora cried out, her hands instinctively flying up to his wrist to try and lessen the pain.

“Listen to me, you ungrateful little brat,” he hissed, his face inches from hers. “You don’t get to act like this. You’re mine now, and you’ll behave like it.”

Tears streamed down her face as she whimpered, her body trembling under his grip. “Please,” she choked out, “just let me go…”

Raphael’s grip on her hair tightened briefly before he shoved her back against the wall, releasing her with a sneer. “Stop this pathetic display,” he said, straightening his posture. “You’re embarrassing yourself.” He turned on his heel and left the room, slamming the door behind him. She collapsed to the floor, clutching her head as she sobbed quietly, her body wracked with fear and despair.

Athena, in her owl form, perched silently on the ornate railing of the balcony outside Raphael’s chambers. Her piercing, golden eyes focused on the scene unfolding within. The moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting dim light onto the room where she sat, trembling, her tear streaked face turned away from Raphael, who stood over her. His domineering presence made her cower further into herself, his words venomous and dripping with cruelty as he reminded her who controlled her now.

Athena’s sharp gaze never wavered, her feathers ruffling slightly as her talons dug into the railing. The goddess could not interfere directly, but her wrath burned like a smoldering ember as she bore witness to her suffering. Raphael’s actions, his cruel grip, and his mocking tone made her blood boil. She sobbed quietly, her voice broken and pleading. Raphael ignored her, his demeanor cold as he himself on her, breaking her spirit further. It was a sight that would enrage any mortal, but for Athena it was unforgivable.

When Raphael left the room, slamming the door shut, Athena let out a quiet, mournful hoot before spreading her wings and taking flight into the night. Her path was clear, she would inform Telemachus. Telemachus sat by the campfire with Acrisios and Pisistratus, strategizing their next moves. Though his body was present, his mind wandered constantly to y/n. Her face haunted his thoughts, her laugh, her touch, it was all he could think about. He clenched his fists, suppressing the mounting fear that she might be suffering.

Suddenly, Athena’s owl form swooped down from the night sky, landing on a nearby post. Her sharp gaze fell upon Telemachus, and she hooted twice. Telemachus immediately rose to his feet, recognizing the divine presence. “Athena,” he breathed. “What news do you bring?”

The owl’s form shimmered briefly, her presence filling Telemachus’s mind with a vivid and horrific vision of what she had seen in Skiaphos. He saw his wife crying, her hands trembling as Raphael humiliated and hurt her, his disgusting grip on her and the overwhelming fear in her eyes. He saw Adonis’s laughter being overshadowed by her pain, her desperation to protect him despite her suffering.

As the vision ended, Telemachus staggered backward, his chest heaving as rage boiled to the surface. “No…” he whispered, his voice breaking. His eyes darted to Athena, who remained perched and calm, as if waiting for his resolve to settle. But Telemachus didn’t settle. He exploded.

A guttural roar tore from his throat as he kicked over the wooden bench by the fire, sending it crashing to the ground. “That bastard!” he bellowed, his voice echoing through the camp. He punched the nearest post, splintering the wood. “I’ll kill him! I’ll tear him apart with my bare hands!”

“Telemachus, calm down!” Acrisios shouted, rushing to his side, but Telemachus shoved him off, pacing like a caged animal.

“You don’t understand!” Telemachus snarled, his eyes wild and filled with tears. “She’s suffering! He’s—he’s hurting her! And I’m not there! I should’ve been there!” His voice cracked, and he sank to his knees, his hands clutching his hair.

Pisistratus approached cautiously. “Telemachus, we’ll get her back. You have to focus—”

“Focus?” Telemachus shot back, his voice venomous. “How can I focus when my wife, my son, are in the hands of that monster?” His knuckles turned white as he clenched his fists. “I’ll make him pay. I’ll burn Skiaphos to the ground if I have to.” Athena hooted softly, as if approving his fiery resolve. She spread her wings and took flight again, leaving Telemachus with his rage and the promise of divine guidance.

Telemachus stood, his chest heaving as he turned to his men. “Prepare yourselves. We leave as soon as possible.” Acrisios hesitated but nodded, knowing there was no reasoning with Telemachus in this state. Pisistratus followed suit, though worry lingered in his eyes.

Telemachus clenched his jaw, his eyes burning with fury. “Raphael won’t see the Helios rise by the time I’m through with him.”

@procrastination20 @jackiepackiee @barrythestrawberry041 @blessedbyahuntress

@f3r4lfr0gg3r @permanently-nothere @eyuunho @jackintheboxs-world @simpingmyassoff @sunshinewhosketches @sugarlillycookie @kaguraaaa @doodle-with-rhy

@0anodite0 @cocosparkel @tati-the-fangirl

@dazedemery @tsmaruchan

@holywizardprincess @galaxygurlll @pjopinkk

@h0ne4bee @minteaspoon @zendoesstuff

[brothersfuck]

I love your baby sammy infantilization post and i would just like to add:

bartender/ waitress sees dean putting something in sammy’s drink & pulls him (sam) aside to warn him:

Bartender: Just so you know, I saw that guy you were with slipping something in your drink. do you want me to kick him out?

Sam: yeah i know he’s doing that it’s fine :3

Bt: ?????

sam’s falling asleep and nuzzling up to dean & trying to crawl into his lap like he used to as a kid. dean thinks its so cute that he just has to fuck him.

idk… your posts r so delightful

-🪼

I love the idea that Sam is completely aware Dean is drugging him, but not telling Dean that he knows. Dean thinks he's so sneaky but really, Sam is panting and getting weak at the knees thinking of his big brother roofing his drink,, also thank you for your compliments 🪼anon::)) some kinda continuation under the cut

Sam has known for quite some time now.

Well, not that Dean ever tried to hide it as well as he thought he did. The roofies were one thing, all in the pocket of his most unused leather jacket, the pills cut up in half.

He connected the dots between his ever impending sleepy-times and the fact that Sam is experienced in staying up because of college. He doesn't just start feeling sleepy if he doesn't want to.

Usually after he gets sleepy, Sam doesn't remember anything after. It's fuzzy. Comfortingly fuzzy, like his brain is telling him that he doesn't have to remember.

So when it happens again, Sam lets it happen. No protest, no nothing, just a sly look towards the roofied beer and a tilt of his head, the liquid slipping through his throat, settling in his stomach.

When he starts getting uncomfortably dizzy for one beer, Dean starts doing what he usually does, but this time, Sam will remember. He's sure of it. At least, he can try.

He hears (though muffled) "heyheyhey big guy, okay, come here Sammy. Come here Sammy." He feels (though electrifying) Dean's hand cup his side, guide him out of the bar, and take him to his car.

Dean's head is tilted to look at Sam, smile on his face like he used to when he still looked down on his baby brother from the bars of Sam's crib. He waits for a while, two maybe three minutes, before accepting that Sam probably won't remember any of this.

Sam does.

He promised himself he would.

It's a shock, but not enough that he physically reacts (probably because he's so relaxed) when Dean takes his hand and runs it through Sam's hair, cooing and whispering something about being sleepy.

When a particularly hard tug to his hair because of a knot happens, Sam freezes and his eyes start to water, his mouth opening to produce what he himself can only describe as, at the moment, the crying of an infant.

Dean panics, and he panics hard. "Fu--I mean, I'm sorry Sammy, I'm so sorry Sammy, lemme kiss it to make it better, okay? Come here,"

And Dean does, he does kiss Sam! Because that's his Sammy, and well, Sam quiets down. He doesn't know why he does (just like most of the things he's doing as of late) but he relaxes into the head kiss and whines when Dean's lips leave his hair.

At this point, he's drooling all over himself. Jesus, Sam thinks, the roofies he bought must have been from a hunter.

Sam's head falls backward, and the last thing he remembers is the sound of the engine starting.

When he opens his eyes again, he's in his bed, Dean is sitting on the edge, he could tell before he saw, because Dean does it often.

"Mm..Dee?" It's only been about thirty minutes since the drive back to the bunker, they got here at the fourteen minute mark and Dean had carried Sam like a baby to his bedroom at the sixteen minute mark. Which meant he spent at least fourteen other minutes just staring at Sam drool all over himself while he slept.

He's sporting a hard-on.

Well, can you blame him? Sammy's cute cocksucker lips covered in drool right in front of you, wouldn't you have a hard-on too? Dean asks the unavailable audience in his head.

When he contemplates going to the bathroom and taking care of himself there, he hears and feels Sam shift from his position laying on his back to crawl over (with drool still dripping out of his mouth) and plop his upper body on Dean's lap.

This time, it's Dean who freezes, and shakes, because good lord, fuck, this feels good. He's going to become a true believer in those sleeping pills if things like this keep happening.

Sam's clothes must have ridden up a little, because it's not clothes that press against his covered erection, it's his baby brother's stomach. All bare. Pressing against jeans.

Fuck. He's going to really start worshipping those pills.

He can't think about what he did after, about chuckling and grabbing Sam by the arm, about pulling Sam up and sitting him on his lap, about babying him even though he's even taller when he's sat on his big brother's lap--

Sam can though, and he will, because he was there for the entire thing. Sure, maybe he was off his game and babbling like a baby going "Dee, Dee," while lifting his hips and letting them fall back down on Dean's lap but he doesn't stop thinking about Dean breaking and finally throwing him down on the bed, eyes softening at Sam's confused face, and hands roaming all around and under those clothes.

He also doesn't stop thinking about how good it felt for his brother's cock to fill him in, and how snug it was, like a teddy bear. Doesn't stop thinking about drool coating his chin and eyes rolling back and accidentally calling Dean "dad"

He doesn't stop thinking about how that made Dean cum. Hard.

With that knowledge, Sam makes it his life goal to be as cute and babbly as ever. He's stuttering his words more, whining when he can't reach over the table for some seasoning, tugging at Dean's sleeve to tell him something.

Personally, Dean thinks he's going to hell, but fuck if heaven here didn't feel so good

[zeroseuniverse]

Folded Notes

Word Count: 875 Summary: When Jeongin wasn’t looking, she slipped a folded note into the side pocket of his backpack."I saw you smile at the little kid playing outside earlier. It made me smile too." Pairing: Jeongin X Fem Reader

Navigation

The sun filtered through the wide classroom windows, casting dappled patterns across the desks. Jeongin sat a few rows from the front, glancing discreetly to his left. There she was, perched near the window, her notebook open and pen in hand. He smiled faintly to himself as he watched her draw, her fingers gliding over the margins of her notes. The sketches were small but intricate—flowers, clouds, little animals that seemed to frolic across the page.

She didn’t know it, but Jeongin admired those tiny details more than she could imagine. He wasn’t brave enough to strike up a real conversation, even though she’d exchanged polite smiles and the occasional "Hi." Words always seemed to lodge in his throat when he thought about speaking to her. Instead, he channeled his thoughts into something simpler: little notes, left anonymously in her sketchbook.

It started on a whim.

One day, she’d stepped away from her desk, leaving her sketchbook open. Jeongin had noticed a drawing of a small bird perched on a tree branch. He scribbled a quick message on a sticky note: "Your art is beautiful. Keep going!" With his heart hammering, he tucked it between the pages and returned to his seat.

When she came back and found it, he saw her surprised smile from the corner of his eye. His chest warmed at the sight, and he knew he’d do it again.

Over the next few weeks, the notes became a ritual.

"Good luck on your exam today—you’ll do great!""The bunny you drew yesterday was adorable!""Your flowers make even the margins look like a garden."

Jeongin spent more time crafting those small, heartfelt messages than he ever spent on his own assignments. He would sneak them into her sketchbook during breaks, always careful not to get caught. The way her face lit up each time she found one made it worth the risk.

But what Jeongin didn’t know was that she had started to notice him, too.

At first, she was simply curious about her anonymous admirer. Who was kind enough to leave such sweet messages? But as the days passed, her attention drifted to Jeongin—the quiet boy who sat a few rows away. She noticed the way his pencil tapped rhythmically against his notebook when he was deep in thought. She caught the soft hums he let slip when he thought no one was listening. And that laugh of his—low, shy, but utterly infectious—it lingered in her mind long after class ended.

It didn’t take long to piece it together.

The timing of the notes, the proximity of his seat, the way he avoided her gaze whenever she caught him glancing her way—it all pointed to Jeongin.

The next day, she decided it was her turn.

When Jeongin wasn’t looking, she slipped a folded note into the side pocket of his backpack.

"I saw you smile at the little kid playing outside earlier. It made me smile too."

When he found it later, Jeongin froze. His heart raced as he read the message over and over, his mind spinning. Was it... her? He glanced in her direction, but she was focused on her notebook, as if nothing had happened.

The game had begun.

The following days were filled with small exchanges.

"You have a really nice laugh. I wish I could hear it more often.""I noticed you always lend people your extra pens. You're really thoughtful.""That doodle of the cat with sunglasses? Hilarious."

Jeongin couldn’t believe it. The person he’d admired from afar was now leaving notes for him. Each message felt like a gentle nudge, encouraging him to be a little braver. But still, neither of them made the first move.

The tension built with every exchange, a delightful mix of excitement and nervousness. She started leaving notes in his notebook. He began slipping messages under the edges of her sketchbook. The unspoken game pulled them closer and closer, like magnets drawn together.

One crisp afternoon, Jeongin finally decided he couldn’t wait any longer.

Class had just ended, and most students had filed out. Gathering his courage, Jeongin walked over to her desk. His hands trembled as he slid a folded note onto the corner of her sketchbook.

She looked up, startled, meeting his gaze. For the first time, he didn’t look away.

With a small smile, she unfolded the note.

"Can I take you out for coffee?"

Her heart fluttered. Without a word, she opened her bag and pulled out a bundle of folded papers. She placed them on the desk between them.

Jeongin’s eyes widened as he recognized the notes—his notes. But when she flipped through the stack, he realized something else: his notes were mixed with the ones she’d been leaving for him.

“I guess we’ve both been playing the same game,” she said softly, her cheeks tinted pink.

Jeongin stared at her, his lips parting in surprise. Then, a slow, radiant smile spread across his face.

“So... is that a yes?” he asked nervously, his voice barely above a whisper.

She nodded, laughing lightly. “I’d love to.”

And just like that, the game of notes ended where it was always meant to—with two hearts finally meeting, no longer hidden behind words on paper.

[covenofagatha]

Do I wanna know? (Part 2)

Reeling from seeing the text on Agatha's phone, it sends you into a spiral

Word count: 5.1k

Warnings: rough sex, oral sex, fingering, angst, underage drinking, marking

It feels like the floor is falling out from under you and you’re just slowly falling into the realization that Agatha must be cheating on you. 

The laptop slam that you didn’t even question. Lying about work. This text. What else is she hiding? 

“Hey, hon, everything alright?” Agatha asks, coming back into the living room but you barely hear her over the blood rushing in your ears. Is anything alright? You just told her that you loved her while she was fucking you, and now she’s meeting with someone else tomorrow night. Nothing will ever be alright again.

You turn around slowly and her brows crinkle in concern. She’s holding a vibrator — clearly she’s not done with you yet. But the thought of her touching you with hands that could’ve been on someone else, that will be on someone else, makes your stomach hurt. Are you going to throw up? “Yeah,” you say in a monotone. 

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” she jokes. The red marks on her neck from you look eerily out of place now and you regard them curiously. You should talk to her, you should confront her, but you’ve always been much more self-destructive than that. 

And now there’s a cynical knife twisting inside you, whispering that if you leave even more marks all over her body, she won’t be able to fuck someone else without thinking about you. 

So you swallow hard and look at her with a steel glint in your eyes. “Yeah, I just think it’s your turn,” you say, still a little robotic, and you cover up your anger with a smirk and take her hand to lead her to the bedroom. 

What once was your sacred place, the place where you felt most like you belonged, now is tainted and you can’t help but wonder if she brought someone here. Is it no longer fun with you now that it doesn’t have to be a secret? Did she only like you for the thrill of sneaking around?

“Take off your clothes,” you order and if Agatha’s surprised, she doesn’t say anything. You hate the feelings of arousal that spike back in you when she puts the toy on the dresser and takes off her sweater and pants, leaving her in a black bra and underwear. “Get on the bed.” 

You’ve taken control a few times, but more often than not when you are on top, she’s guiding you. But not this time. There’s some sick part of you that wants to ruin her so she can’t think of anyone else but you. 

Agatha crawls to the middle of the bed and reclines against the pillows, legs falling open to show you the large wet spot on the middle of her panties. “Going to make mommy feel good?” she simpers and it makes you so fucking mad that you almost walk out. 

This is a bad idea. You need to talk to her. 

But the fear of her cheating being confirmed is stopping you, and you loathe yourself for it. It feels like you’re just letting it happen now, but a part of you is worried that if she is sleeping with someone else, then she’ll choose them over you. 

Is the hurt you’d feel from being without her worse than the pain you’d feel from having only half of her?

You don’t fucking know. 

Agatha is waiting and clucks her tongue to get your focus back on her and you growl before climbing over to her and sinking your teeth into her shoulder. She hisses with pain, but moans when you soothe the bite with your tongue. Her hand fastens into your hair while you litter her upper chest with more marks, absolutely determined that if she does fuck around, there will be questions. 

“Baby, god,” she sighs, her skin sticky with saliva, and you push down her bra over her breasts so you can suck at them. You scrape your teeth against the curvature of them and then nip, delighting in the bruises. 

When you take her nipple into your mouth and begin swirling it around with your tongue, her back arches off the bed with a groan. You tug on it, maybe a little rougher than you need to be, and she tightens her grip in your hair. 

“You’re fucking mine,” you rasp, trailing down to her stomach and sucking a kiss into the right side of her lower abdomen. She squirms under you, hips undulating, as you make your way back up to her breast, sinking your teeth into her skin and then licking to make the sting feel better, back down to her belly button, back up to her left breast, and then down to the left side of her abs. 

She looks down and takes a sharp breath when she sees the “M” written out in red marks all across the smooth expanse of her stomach. It’s a little sloppy, and you know it’ll be faded tomorrow, but anyone who sees it will know what it says. 

“Mine,” you repeat forcefully, prompting her to say it back, and she nods with wide eyes. You’ve never seen her like this — so at your mercy, and you don’t hate it. 

Agatha clearly doesn’t hate it either, because when you go lower and settle between her legs, you can smell her. “Please, honey,” she says, hand tugging at your hair, but you run your tongue all the way up her inner thigh starting from her knee, and then repeat on the other leg. She shivers, goosebumps following in your wake, and you bite the skin on her upper thigh, right before the juncture between them. 

She’s so wet that you can see a difference in the dark fabric and she’s making the most delicious sounds to plead with you to touch her. 

But you’re not done teasing her yet. You’re getting a thrill from her being needy for you and you being the only one right now who can take care of it for her. You toy with the hem of her underwear and she lifts her ass off the bed so you can slide it over and down her legs. 

“God, you’re wet,” you say, lifting her panties up so you can see them glistening in the light. For a moment, you think about gagging her with them so you don’t have to hear her lie to you but you don’t know how Agatha would react. And the last thing you need is for her to get suspicious about why you’re suddenly in a dominating mood. 

She nods before gasping, “All for you,” and you have to duck your head so she doesn’t see your face contort with emotion. You bend back down and sink your teeth into her hip bone and then both her upper thighs again for good measure, before flattening your tongue and dragging it roughly through her folds. 

Her hips buck and she tries to shove you in closer, but you take your time, just teasing around her clit and mouthing at her cunt lips. Your face is getting absolutely drenched, but you barely even feel it with the anger vibrating through your body. Your hands keep her legs pried apart and you’re digging your nails into her skin. 

You don’t even realize that you’ve thrusted your tongue inside her and curled it up until her walls clench around you and then you harshly suck at her clit, making her moan. You’ve never been this ferocious before, it’s like you’re practically devouring her and she is absolutely loving it. It makes you want to stop because she doesn’t deserve it — she doesn’t deserve your mouth on her making her feel good. 

But you can’t stop and it’s fucking killing you. You’re deriving too much pleasure from the way she’s thrashing around on the bed, hips grinding furiously, head thrown back and hair strewn around the pillows. From the way she’s moaning your name like it’s the only thing she can think of. 

She needs you, only you, and for a moment, that’s enough. 

Agatha’s getting closer and you can feel her clit pulsing under your tongue and her walls clenching. She’s groaning something unintelligible and you can feel the ache back between your legs. 

“Please, please, honey,” she moans, the rhythm of her hips growing sloppy, and you stop and pull away, making her whine. She picks her head up and looks at you, completely out of breath, a dark heat in her eyes. “What are you—” 

Before she finishes the sentence, you cut her off with a long lick through her folds and she whimpers. “Who do you belong to?” you ask, fire seething in your voice. You tease her clit with the tip of your tongue and she rolls her hips to try to get more direct stimulation. 

“You, baby, you,” she chokes out and you feel a rush of possessiveness. One of your hands leaves her thighs and out of the corner of your eye, you can see the faint red indentations left behind. A sick thrill runs through you — you hope they hurt. 

“Keep saying it,” you demand and there’s a flicker of confusion on her face, but before she can ask or say anything, you shove two fingers into her cunt roughly. She keens and drops back onto the bed, walls convulsing around you and you slowly rub your tongue against her clit, a stark contrast from your fast thrusts inside her. 

You pause for a moment before she remembers what she needs to do. “I’m yours, honey, I belong you to, I’m all fucking yours,” she pants and you suck on her clit before scraping your teeth against it, harshly twisting and then curling your fingers, and she cums all over your face and hand, making you an absolute mess. 

You don’t stop though — you just keep going, you just keep fucking her as hard as you can, until she’s shaking and trembling and writhing beneath you and begging you. You think she might have cum again but you don’t let up, completely losing yourself in just pushing her and pushing her to more until it’s too much and she yanks on your hair, pulling you away from her. 

“Give me a second, hon,” she jokes weakly and you realize the state that both of you are in. There’s little droplets of blood on her skin from where your one hand has been digging into her thigh and your other hand and bottom half of your face are soaked and sticky. Her chest is heaving, breasts rising and falling and demanding your attention, and her skin is blotchy and red. The “M” is still etched out in marks and it makes a dull heat start to throb in your stomach. 

Agatha is completely ragged when she tugs you up to lay next to her and she laughs like she can’t believe what just happened. There’s a slight worry that starts to gnaw at you that maybe you went too far. Even if she is cheating, you can’t totally block out the feelings you have for her. “You okay?” you ask, voice small and timid. 

She brushes a lock of hair that was stuck to her sweaty forehead out of the way and turns to look at you. “That was so intense, baby. So hot. I’m really good.” 

And then she leans over and kisses you so softly that it makes you want to cry. Is she just that good of a liar?

Or are you just that much of a fool? 

When she gets out of bed, you don’t move and just lay there feeling absolutely nothing. The reality of what might be happening is starting to sink in more and you’re getting the overwhelming urgency to run. 

Agatha comes back into the room with a wet washcloth and wipes your face gently with it like she usually does. “Want to take a shower or anything?” she murmurs and you shake your head, suddenly not even wanting to look at her. She walks into the closet to find some pajamas and throws one of the pairs that you keep at her place onto the bed. 

It’s like you’re suffocating. “Hey, Agatha,” you say before you even think it through. “I think I’m going to go back to the dorms tonight.” You hear the rustling inside the closet stop and your heart beats faster. “I just — I just remembered that Alice and I were going to do something.” 

There’s a part of you that wants to stay so you can snoop through her phone and computer, but your skin is itching and you can’t breathe. 

She pokes her head out from within the closet with a frown. “Is everything okay?” 

You nod and try to smile. “Yeah, I’m good. I’ll see you later, yeah?” 

You don’t even wait for her to respond before getting out of the bed, walking back to the living room to pick up your bra and shirt and quickly putting them on. You hear her call after you as you walk out the door and it feels like you just had a one night stand with a total stranger. 

The entire drive back to campus passes in a blur and when you stumble into the dark room, you hear Alice turn over in bed and mutter something. You apologize quietly before getting some clothes and going to shower. 

Hot water stings your skin and you crumple under the weight of Agatha’s betrayal, ending up sitting right beneath the water stream and staring blankly at the floor. You thought that her of all people would understand what it would feel like, both from having been cheated on by your dad and because she knows that you witnessed him doing it twice. 

And who was she having an affair with? A colleague? A friend? Maybe she met someone online. 

Every single possibility hurts the same. 

Before you even realize it, sobs are racking through your body, the pain too much to keep inside anymore. Tears blend with the water and drip down your face, the taste of salt heavy on your lips. Your entire body shakes with the effort of keeping quiet so Alice doesn’t come and check on you but a muffled cry slips out occasionally. 

Fuck Agatha. Fuck Agatha. Was she just using you? Were you just a pawn in her unhappy marriage to your dad? After everything, after all her insecurities about you leaving her for someone your own age — clearly, you should’ve been the one that was worried. 

The water turns your skin pruny and gets colder and it’s only a matter of time before you’re shivering, but you still don’t move. You’re not sure you can. You know that you need to end things with her, but the thought of her just being gone is unbearable. 

Swallowing roughly, you start to feel dirty for still fucking her after you saw the text but you push it down the best you can and get out of the shower finally. There’s a few texts from Agatha on your phone but you ignore them while brushing your teeth and then you find an old stuffed animal that your mom snuck into one of your suitcases. 

Hugging the bear tightly and willing yourself not to cry anymore, you drift off to an uneasy sleep after a while, and when you wake up a few hours later, you don’t feel rested at all. 

Alice is already gone when you roll over to face her side of the room and you groan, the emptiness still lingering inside you. 

When you grab your phone off the nightstand, there’s even more texts from Agatha and two missed calls. You roll your eyes and keep scrolling to find a message from your mom. 

Want to come over for lunch today? 

The thought of leaving your bed seems impossible right now so you text her that something came up and shut your phone off. Wallowing in self-pity is definitely one of the worst things you can do, but the weight on your chest makes it hard to do anything else, so you curl up with your blanket wrapped around yourself and start watching episodes of your comfort show. You don’t even realize how much time has passed until Alice comes back into the room and opens the blinds, letting in bright sunshine and you hiss and shift away from it. 

“Are you sick?” she asks, regarding your swollen eyes and mussed up state. You shake your head numbly and mumble something that neither of you understand. “What?” 

You hit the spacebar on your laptop to pause the show and pick your head up. “Not feeling well,” you say and she looks at you with concern. 

“Do you need anything? I can go get you some medicine or food or something?” Alice offers and you wish you were in a better mood to appreciate how sweet she’s being. But you shrug and shake your head before burrowing back into your cocoon. She stares at you for a long moment before sighing heavily and grabbing her backpack. 

She’s out the door before you can ask her to close the blinds. 

The show becomes mind-numbingly boring pretty quickly after that, your stomach is grumbling, and you really have to pee, so you decide to finally leave your nest of blankets and sadness and leave your dorm. The lights blind you and you stumble down the hallway and the moment you step outside, you do start to feel better. 

The weather in New Jersey is absolutely perfect. The muted warmth hits your skin and the fresh air puts a new spin on your feelings and you can start to think more rationally. 

You just need to talk to Agatha. Maybe there’s a perfectly reasonable understanding. Of course you’d think it was an affair considering your dad’s past. And if it is, then maybe you can work through it. And if you can’t work through it, then — you don’t want to think about it. 

It’s unhealthy to be willing to stay with her after she did that, but you fucking need her. She’s become such an addiction and even now, when you’re absolutely furious and heartbroken, you still crave her. 

“You look like shit,” someone says, stepping next to you as you’re browsing the vending machine outside the building. She’s a bit taller than you, with shoulder-length blonde hair and hazel-green eyes, wearing a red sweatshirt and blue leggings. She’s checking you out, taking in your disheveled appearance, and is clearly not impressed. 

You ignore her and put a dollar bill into the machine, selecting a bag of chips. 

She chuckles to herself. “I’m Carol. Sorry, didn’t mean to be rude, but it looks like you’re really going through it.” 

The chips get stuck and you slap the glass angrily until they fall down. “Yeah, well,” you finally huff, bending down to get your snack through the slot. “Think I’m going through a break up. I’m not really sure though.” You regret telling this total stranger that the moment it leaves your mouth.

Carol’s face softens. “Ah, fuck, sorry to hear about that. You look like quite the catch, not sure why anyone would let you go.” The compliment — the flirting? — makes your cheeks heat up and you inwardly curse the betrayal of your own body. You shift uncomfortably and look down at the ground, not sure of what to say. “Well, anyway, I’m throwing a party in like an hour. Room 223 if you want to come by. Pregame starts in thirty minutes and it seems like you could use a drink.” And then she walks away, leaving you completely dumbfounded. 

You know that getting drunk is absolutely not what you should be doing right now, especially because you’re just starting to feel better about things, but fuck it. You can get drunk and have fun and let loose — you fucking deserve it. 

Plus, Agatha is probably on her date right now, so you make the executive decision that you’re going. 

Alice is back in your room when you get there, sitting on her phone on her bed, and she gives you a pleasant smile. You’re still a little shaken from the conversation with Carol you just had, but feeling more confident. “Hey, do you want to go to a party with me tonight?” you ask. It’ll be safer if you have someone you know and trust there. 

But Alice raises an eyebrow. “I’m not really a big party person. Sure you don’t want to just stay in and we can watch a movie or something? I thought you weren’t feeling too well.” 

You shrug it off. “I’m feeling a lot better now. And I’ve been watching stuff all day. You don’t have to come, but if you change your mind…” You trail off, hoping that she’ll reconsider but she just gives you an apologetic look. 

Which means that thirty minutes later, you’re walking alone down the corridor and awkwardly knocking on the door. A moment later, it swings open and Carol beams when she sees that it’s you. 

The second she ushers you in, she thrusts a shot of something into your hand and you take it without thinking twice. 

It’s absolutely foul and it burns your throat and you almost gag. “Give me another,” you gasp and Carol claps you on the shoulder. 

Three more shots later and you are absolutely fucked up. The party hasn’t even started yet and your legs are vibrating and everything seems so far away and so close at the same time. Carol has been standing by you the whole time and when you asked her if she was drinking as well, she said she was too busy keeping an eye on you. 

So you take another shot. 

“You might want to slow down,” Carol says and you pfft before waving your hand dismissively. “I know you’re going through something, but you’re going to feel awful tomorrow.” 

“Maybe, but I’d feel a lot better if you drank with me!” you say suggestively, even though it barely makes any sense. She looks amused and refuses the cup of beer you grab off the table and offer her. 

You learn that she’s a computer science major, a junior, and has a passion for aviation. 

“Can you take me flying sometime?” you ask and she laughs before agreeing. You think she might be doing it just to humor you, but you’re planning to hold her to it if you remember this conversation tomorrow. 

The drunkenness starts to set even more in, and all you can think about is Agatha. You should be with her right now, laying in between her legs while she kisses your head and toys with the waistband of your underwear. You miss her and the way she smells and the way her body feels on yours. 

And it’s so fucking depressing that it physically hurts. 

“I wanna go see her,” you slur and from the wince on Carol’s face, you think you might be shouting. 

“Who?” she asks. 

You have to search your brain for who you’re talking about and then laugh at the absurdity of having forgotten. The room spins and you have to grip onto Carol’s bicep. “Agatha,” you say like it’s so fucking obvious. “I want — I need to see her. Can you take me to her place? I’m so drunk!” 

Carol looks you up and down and nods, as if reaching the same conclusion about your state of mind. “Is this the chick who you broke up with?” 

“I don’t think we broke up. I think she’s cheating on me though. I should go talk to her and tell her that I love her and I don’t care,” you say and Carol raises an eyebrow. “What?” 

She shrugs. “If she’s cheating on you, then you should end things. Have some self-respect.” 

Red blurs your vision and you scoff. “Fuck off,” you spit and give her a little shove before tripping to the door and you hear her rush after you. 

“Okay, okay, I’ll take you,” she says, holding onto your arm before you fall. She leads you all the way down and to her car. “If you throw up in here, I will leave you on the side of the road.” 

The threat makes you giggle but you do start to feel a little nauseous so you roll down the window and let the wind sober you up a bit. You think Carol says something, but you’re too wrapped up in your own thoughts to comprehend. 

Will Agatha be mad at you? Obviously confronting her while hammered isn’t exactly the right way to do it, but you can’t wait anymore and at least now, you have the guts to do it. 

Fuck, what if she’s with the other person? Now you feel even more like you’re about to puke at the thought of walking in and finding her in bed with another woman, going down on her, making her moan. 

Your fists ball up and you furiously blink back tears. Should you ask Carol to turn the car around?

But before you can decide, she’s pulling into the parking lot of Agatha’s apartment and you’ve started hyperventilating. 

“You don’t have to do this,” she reminds you but you shake your head and try to calm your racing heart. “Do you want me to come in with you?” 

“No, I’m okay,” you say, more to yourself than to her. You are okay. You can do this. It’s better to know now than to drag it out. “Thanks for driving me though.”

You do feel a little more clear-minded when you get out of her car and you’re able to make it to the side door of the building with little trouble. You pull out the keys from your purse and let yourself in and then you take a deep breath when you get to her door. 

The key in your hand pauses an inch away from the lock and you feel the wave of emotions wash over you again. You could turn back now and not know, or you could potentially fuck everything up. 

But you don’t think you’d be able to forgive yourself if you didn’t go in right now, so you unlock the door and push it open, bracing for whatever you find. 

Except the lights are off and you don’t hear or see anything. 

“Hello?” you call out into the apartment, but there’s no answer. Maybe Agatha is asleep. You creep in and kick your shoes off, flicking on the hallway light before going to peek in her bedroom. 

Agatha isn’t there. 

You wander through the entire place and there is no sign of her. Maybe she’s still out. A bitter feeling boils to life in your stomach, replaced by a masochistic thrill at the thought of her coming home with someone only to find you. 

Her laptop on the table is gone so you can’t even go through it to figure out what she was looking at so you decide to tear the place apart looking for anything that might indicate infidelity. 

Nothing. 

Maybe this is the first time then. Or maybe she’s just really good at hiding it. 

You settle onto the couch, positioning yourself so you’re facing the door, and you’re determined to wait until she gets home to call her out. 

But she doesn’t come home the entire night. 

You’re awoken in the morning by the sound of the door opening and you jolt up. Where are you? What is happening? Your head hurts so fucking bad and your mouth is totally dry. 

Agatha walks into the living room and gasps when she sees you, dropping her bag to the ground in shock. “What are you doing here? Why haven’t you been answering my texts and calls? Do you know how worried I’ve been?” she demands and you understand about one-third of it over the pounding behind your eyes. “You cannot just go radio silent on me like that, okay? You were acting so weird the night before and then you completely ignored me and—”

“Are you cheating on me?” you interrupt, and it stops her cold. 

“What?”

“Do you need me to repeat it?” you snap. 

Agatha scoffs and comes to sit next to you and reaches out a hand to touch you, but you shrink away from her and she looks hurt. “Why would you think that?” 

And it’s the exact same card your dad played when you confronted him — play dumb to buy yourself more time, figure out what they know and then lie to cover up the rest. “I saw the text on your phone. The one about someone not being able to wait to see you? And then you slammed your laptop closed. So, are you cheating on me?” 

She purses her lips and pinches the bridge of her nose before looking at you earnestly. “No, I am not cheating on you.” You throw your arms up in disbelief and she lays a hand on your leg. You flinch. “The other night, when you came over, I was polishing off my resume and I didn’t want you to see it.” 

“Your resume? Why were you working on that?” 

Agatha looks to the ceiling and then back at you like she’s trying to figure out what to say. “I was doing that because I had a job interview last night. An old colleague of mine had reached out about an open position at their company — a higher status, better paying one than I have right now. I had an interview last night. She was the one that texted me that and it wasn’t meant to be flirty, it’s just been awhile since we’ve seen each other. I’ll show you the rest of the messages if you want.” 

You nod, but an immense sense of relief crashes over you and you feel slightly bad for how you’d been reacting. Especially for the marks you left all over her, now knowing that she actually needed to look professional and you definitely made that harder. “Okay, well, why didn’t you just tell me? If it’s a better opportunity, then you should take it.” The tenseness is still in the air — why does it still feel like there’s a sword hanging over you, about to fall at any given moment?

She takes a deep breath and meets your eyes. “The job is in New York. I’d have to move.” 

And the sword drops. 

@lostbutlovely33 @diorrxckstar @whoreforolderfictionalwomen  @katekathry @onemansdreamisanothermansdeath @tayasmellsapples @natashashill @mybraininblood @mysticalmoonlight7  @cactuslover2600 @loveem0mo @readysteddiero-nance @lonelyhalfwitch @lesbiantortilla @crescendoofstars @sol-in-wonderland @ahsfan05 @gbab09 @sasheemo @agathaharness @live-laugh-love-lupone @chiar4anna @fuckedupforkhahn @lowlyjelly @sweetmidnights @vyvvycg

[frudoo]

Jack Reacher is a munch.

Warnings: Kinda dub-con? Jerking off, cunnilingus, squirting. Fem!Reader is fat.

“I need you.”

     The back door slams and startles you out of your book-entranced state. Appearing before you is your heaving boyfriend, hair stuck to his sweaty forehead and a deep blush riddled across his skin. One large hand tosses aside your book, uncaring of the way you whine.

     “You made me lose my place!” You frown, giving the side of his head a light smack.

     “You’ll find it again,” Jack rudely rips the cozy blanket off of your body and groans loudly when he sees that you’re only wearing his old shirt and a pair of panties. “That’s my girl. Never make me wait, do you?” 

     “What are you- oh,” your eyes widen as you watch your hulking man drop to his knees, instantly attaching his teeth to the supple flesh of your inner thigh. 

     “Take ‘em off,” he demands, snapping the elastic band of your panties. 

     “Ow!” You pout, lifting your hips and shimmying the thin fabric down your legs, off of your body.

     Jack grabs your thighs and places them over his broad shoulders, shoving his nose into your crotch and moaning crudely. 

     “Needed this pussy all damn day,” he murmurs into your skin, inhaling deeper with every breath. “Did she miss me, baby?”

     “Jack-”

     “Could practically hear her calling my name,” he interrupts, spreading your labia open with his thumbs and leaning back just to spit a glob of saliva onto your waiting entrance. 

     His hot breath ghosts across your hardening clit and you shiver, gripping the edge of the couch cushion to ground yourself. A kiss to your sensitive bud turns into two before his tongue licks a fat stripe through your folds. 

     “F-fuck, Jack,” you gasp, whimpering softly.

     “Mhm?” He mouths at your pussy with a cocky hum, hazel eyes flicking up to yours. 

     Everything feels blazing hot—overwhelmingly so. It’s easy to liken your body to molten lava, fluid and just about to burn a hole right through the couch. His tongue is relentless, lapping at your cunt like it’s all he’s good for. If you told him exactly that, you get the feeling he’d agree and beg you to put him in his place, keep him reminded of his role. 

     “Taste so fucking good,” Jack moans, fingertips gripping the fat of your thigh so tightly they dimple the flesh. 

     One hand leaves your leg and slips out of sight, but the unmistakable purr of his pants unzipping clues you in as to where it went. His body jerks and his brows furrow as he fumbles around for a moment, grunting with relief as he finally gets his hand around his aching cock. 

     “W-wait, if you’re gonna fuck me, I need… need your fingers,” you breathe, yelping as your boyfriend playfully nips at your clit. 

     “Not fuckin’ you,” he soothes the ache with a slow swirl of his tongue. “Just need this pretty pussy to melt in my mouth.” 

     The shlick, shlick, shlick of Jack fisting his cock blends into the wet noises of his tongue slipping through your cunt, a lewd melody that makes your head fuzzy and your belly twist with dizzying pleasure.

     “C’mon, baby, grind on my face,” he encourages, growling with delight when you comply. “Mhm, mhm, just like that.” 

     His nose glides over your clit as he hungrily thrusts his tongue deep inside of your weeping hole. His light eyes are half-lidded and glazed over, staring at the way your soft tummy jiggles every time you jerk when he nuzzles against a particularly sensitive spot. You’re ethereal like this, Jack thinks, with one trembling hand gripping his hair tightly and the other pinching at your nipples through your shirt. His cock twitches in his hand and he whimpers as he runs his thumb through his ruddy, leaking tip. 

     “More,” Jack mutters—more to himself than to you—using his free hand to pull your leg up even higher on his shoulder.

     There isn’t one inch of his head that’s not surrounded by you, and he loves it. He can’t breathe, only lick and suck and nip and nudge with every working part of his face. If he had more hands they’d be all over you. 

     “Fuck, oh f-fuck, don’t stop,” your other hand flies to meet the one on his head and you tug at his hair roughly, shivering when he moans against your pussy at the feeling. 

     Something in him goes feral when he feels your walls pulse around his tongue. Jack flickers his eyes up to watch the way you throw your head back as you near the brink of ecstasy. He’s tugging at his dick so hard he thinks he might burn himself and he doesn’t even care. All that matters to him at this moment is swallowing down the proof of your orgasm and savoring the taste. When he gets it—the violent shake of your legs, the raw scream that rips from your throat, the uncontrollable roll of your hips and most importantly, the sweet tang of your release—he sees fucking stars. 

     His release follows quickly after, spilling through his fingers and squelching every time he thrusts into his hand again. He feels you come down from your high, tremors in your muscles so strong he can feel them rippling through your skin, and his own climax dissipates, but his mouth won’t stop. He can’t stop. He’s out of his head, out of his body, functioning only on pure desire and insatiable hunger. You push at his shoulders, whimpering in overstimulation.

     “Jack, I can’t- fuck, stop,” you plead, trying to pull away from his devilish lips and tongue. 

     Your boyfriend shakes his head and wraps both arms around your plush hips, hands squeezing the fat of your stomach almost painfully to keep you in place. It’s in times like these he loves being so big—nice, strong muscles to keep his pretty girl still and open wide for him to feast on. 

     His stubble chafes your poor skin and although he knows you’ll make him pay for it later, the sounds you’re making right now only encourage him to dive deeper, rub you red if only to make himself drown in you. Jack very well could drown here, with sweat burning at the rims of his eyes and his nose and mouth full of your slick, puffy pussy. He would die a happy man. 

     “B-baby, fuck, please, I can’t,” you wail, but Jack just digs his blunt fingernails into your soft belly and glares up at you. 

     “No,” he mutters, wrapping his swollen lips around your clit and sucking harshly before pulling away with a soft pop. “Want you to cum again, know you can.” 

     Every nerve in his body is alight, twitching with need. The cool air of the living room surrounds his semi-erect dick, making him buck his hips against the feeling. Despite the lack of friction, he’s still sensitive from his previous orgasm and every little motion gets his blood flowing and his cock growing harder once again. 

     With a few more licks to your overworked clit, the pain dissolves back into white-hot pleasure that has your thighs squeezing even tighter around the sides of your man’s head. He presses his palm into your lower belly hard, and the climax manifesting inside of you intensifies tenfold. You know what he’s doing, but there’s not a force in this lifetime or the next that could possibly give you the strength to push Jack Reacher away from your sweet cunt in this moment. He’s going to make you squirt all over him and, to your dismay, the poor living room.

     “No, no- Jack- wait, I’m gonna- gonna-!” 

     Your orgasm hits you before you can finish your sentence, and had it not been for your giant of a boyfriend holding your lower half up with his wide shoulders, you would have arched your back hard enough to slide right off of the couch. He tongues you through the high and when he finally pulls back, gasping for breath, you groan at the sight of him absolutely drenched in your cum. When you look down, you see the bottom of your beloved furniture stained with his cum, and judging by the way it’s already soaking into the fabric, there’s no way to clean it completely.. Damn him—his hands never left your body to catch his second release.

    Fuck, the man came hands-free just from eating your pussy. You’d be impressed if you weren’t so damn exhausted.

     Wordlessly, Jack tucks himself back into his pants and stands from the floor, scooping your trembling body up into his arms to carry you to the bedroom. There he tucks you in and presses the softest peck to your lips, as if he hadn’t just wrecked you with that very mouth he kisses you with. He starts to pull away but you’re quick to tug him back down.

     “Stay with me,” you whisper.

     “You don’t want me to clean the mess up front?” He chuckles, stepping back to strip himself of his dirty clothes. 

     You shake your head, snuggling up to him once he finally slips beneath the covers with you.

     “Jack?”

     “Yeah, baby?”

     “You owe me a new couch.”

[haveihitanerve]

Green Leaves… On A Summer’s Day? …it went by pretty fast…

this play is a train wreck on square wheel and i loved every second of it. you know the drill:

“Its gonna have a beginning, a middle, and quite possibly an end, if we have time.” Big fan of whatever those hand movements were Tom, love it. Also Luke enjoying it, while Aj throws a thumbs up at the audience, lovely :) 

Genre???? Have they done this before or am i tweaking-

“Green leaves on a summers day?” YESSS!!!! YES YES YES!!! The tntl video!!! Luke you icon, yes person in the audience!!!

The audience members cheering because they know is amazing- meanwhile I think Sam might know and is explaining to Luke who is confused?? Maybe he knows, maybe he’s just guessing along… we’ll never know 😔

“This is beautiful-” “for a horror?” Sam is judging. “With like tinges of horro-” “tinges???” Sam is just being a hater today, love to see it lol

Oh he made Tom fully turn around to address him lmaooo 

“It might go *thrusts hand forward* full horror, it might be lightly horror *draws hands back again* i don't know, *frustrated with sam and turns to audience for support while Luke is just watching him with literal hearts for eyes* its fucking improvised.” that got a chuckle from aj and a clap laugh from luke, love it!!!

*genuine lightning* the gods hear you, and they approve boys 🫡

Ok so I had a bingo card going with my friends while watching this premier and evil Luke was on it and I was so teetering on the edge of marking it off right here and now but refrained and im still upset because Luke had so many chances to be evil and decided to be a nice old man ugh 🙄 XD

“I was being careful when coming over the hickory fence.” Luke's slow grin. “I have got a hickory fence. *laughs*” idk why it delights him so that Sam called it that, but loveeee

“Thats right i was a QUARTERBACK!.” Silence. “The one that throws it-” thanks for clarifying Luke XD

“My dad never has time to play with me.” oh no, another sad SFTh child, cant they ever be not traumatized guys????

“Whys that, hes working all the time-?” “Hes dead.” fuck! sam really??? I guess none of them can be happy ok…

“You've been eyeing up my hickory bush?” Luke has the cutest smile, i don't know why this hickory joke delights them so, but its phenomenal

“Thats mama.” FEMALE AJ!!! LETS GOOOO!!!!

“D’you know why?” Luke looks like hes genuinely questioning whether he knows the answer or not. “Because her husband died???” Sam contemplating making this darker or not. “Thats right.” ok so we’re keeping it normal level sad, for now…

why is aj shoeless. why is he without shoes. where are his shoes.  what. 

“From home all- mama..” Aj’s posture and his hands omg- XD

“Hello there old man.” SO AJ does sneak in a few old jokes from time to time, nice, very nice

“why don't you keep it, i don't think ill have much use for it anymore.” sam stop im actually gonna cry-

“My knees really hurt-” now you know how Tom feels playing so many child characters lol

“He wont be.” Line so cold and ominous AJ had to break the fourth wall to laugh with the crowd lmaooo

“I swear i will do terrible things.” I mean i love protective mama aj, gorgeous, but why is he shoeless and also what is his accent lol???

“Im gonna go now but… 👿i hate you.” goodness AJ went into his depths to summon that wow

Tom and sam chatting off stage 😭

Toms arm emerging in the light is terrifying gonna be honest

Tom is slouched so uncomfortably low and is only now equal heights with Luke 😭

“Just the hamptons mildred.” “The hampto-” Tom has never been so insulted in his life- “call me Mother!!”

“I tell you agaaiiiinnnn.” the weird creepy crawling hand up his arm is traumatizing but Luke doesn't even flinch does tom do this often????

“But you're a little baby boy to me.” Little cheek tousle. 

Luke's eyebrow raise of judgment. ‘Really dude? Really??”

“I-” tries to defend himself but no siree, tom will not let that slide. “My little boy boy with a lil baby face.” poor luke XD “cant even grow yourself no little beard-” POOR LUKE XD

“You look me in my good eye now.” sees the joke, has to take it. “Its here in my pocket.” the little hiccupy laugh luke does before covering it, at the same time that Tom lets out a slightly laugh as hes speaking 🫠

“Little st- little little-” *breaks* Tom cant let that slide- “why are you laUUughing?” Tom is also laughing but thats besides the point lmao

“Cause I forgot his name.” dang it! I had AJ forgets a name on my bingo card!!! Not Luke!!! (also im fairly certain Sam is never given a name, so you're good luke)

“You don't get no friends.” why is Tom just bullying him???😭 this feels very personal, but at the same time hes currently performing with three of them so…

I have no clue what Tom is doing with his little stomping and catching of nothing, but it delights me

“Shouldn't be hafta look after you all day.” Thats not grammatically- y'know what its wtv

“AAAAAAAAAAAAhhhhhhhh well if im being a *voice crack* burden! Let me just sit down and die!” I love dramatic mother Tom, yes queen, yes

“Oooh! Here we go! Here i come! Jesus im on my way!!!” Luke is so done lmaoo

“Ready the gates! Ready your gates jes- here i come! Strappin in for death!!” Sam is grinning off stage, glorious. Also Luke is honestly done, hes not even enjoying Tom’s monologue lmaooo

“Cause my little boy says he doesn't wanna care for me no more.” *DRAMATIC last breath* also im fairly certain tom just casually slipped in a short joke, but we love

“You know i cant get past the hickory.” Tom breaking the fourth wall to smirk at the audience. ‘Oh so thats where this story is going, ok!’ lol!

“I plumb forgot!” Luke is already fighting a smile. “*deep voice* you cant go past the hickory fence” makes Luke laugh, sam cackle, and Tom himself fight a smile 😭 cuties

 Tom, knowing it made Luke laugh once, now trying to do it again just to make him laugh, is sooooo fucking cute omg-

Also what are his hand movements what

“These fingers have seen a lot of things.” what does that mean- “but they've never seen you *one finger snaps out* go past the *starts air crawling towards luke* hickory fence.” Tom please put them away thats actually petrifying-

“Hickory dickory dock.” Sam, can see Tom is just spewing nonsense now, ends the scene XD

AJ’s little grab of Luke’s arm as he brushes past to grab a chair 🫠

Luke slipping off stage to stand next to Tom and be out of the scene… cuties

“Look at those green leaves *chuckles lightly* on a summers day!” The audience appreciated the input of the title sam, even if aj didn't 🙂‍↔️

“Did he?” Aj’s nonchalant book flip. “..y-yeah.” Sam confused

Luke’s explosion of laughter and Tom having to turn away from the ridiculousness XD

“The bayou.” AJ’s lips twitch. Sam notices. “*voice changes to try and get him to laugh* the bayou.” theyre so fucking cute

“Jambalaya!” “some- jumbo lion, is that what you said?” AJ i cant- XD

Luke folding with his laugh, while Sam just agrees lmaoo they’ve decided to play along for once instead of being mean XD

“Pppppppwease. Pppppppwease mama.” The way Luke has to cover his mouth in shock- XD

“All you need to know-” Sam forgetting he’s a child being scolded by his mother and slipping back into this is just Aj yelling at me- “WOAH WOAH, lower your FUcKING TONE!!!” DAMN!!!

“Hey!” AJ’s finger almost smacking Sam’s face. Also he totally would have genuinely slapped him had he been at a better angle and i fully believe that lol

Casually beating each other up??? What is going on😭

“How have I changed?” “you lost all your hair.” (hey bald joke was on my bingo lets go!!) AJ’s lips twitch XD

Luke dying in the background and Sam physically has to cover his mouth to keep from laughing- i swear they make so many jokes about it but still every time they laugh like its the first lol

“You used to siiiing!” He really wanted to sneak in an AJ singing bit didn't he lol!! I wish he had succeeded…

“Like a nerd!” Hey! Also atp i think sam is just trying to make aj laugh lol and thats it

“Go to your room!” “Im already in my room!” (your mother reads in your room??) “Then stay in your room!!!” “I WILL stay in my room!” “I HATE YOU!!” “I HATE YOU TOO!” “I HATE YOU!! I WISH YOU’D DIED!!” Woah there- damn

“That may have been too harsh…” Sam waiting for someone, anyone to end the scene and take it away from him lmaoo

Luke and Tom just laughing and ignoring him. “Didn't finish my homework..” Sam dropping the child's voice XD

“I don't want you going near that family-” Aj has had enough of waiting for the scene to end lmaooo

“Woah! Ok-” Sam was genuinely startled and AJ’s little quick grin

“I shouldn't have kneed you in the stomach.” Smiles and glances over at Tom and Luke, who both fold and laugh and lean back together in sync like omg-

“I shouldn't have slapped you in the titties.” “yeah…” “that was weird.” LMAOOO Ya THINK????

Sam making Aj come up with the plot 😭 oh no…

“Can you come into the room? I don't like it when you looom.” XD

“Mama if we just ignore bad things, bad things keep happening.” ok i think we sometimes forget because its mostly funny little dumbass stories but they have like really good quotes and morals and ideas in their skits and you don't always notice because its in the middle of a funny scene but damn if that isn't a cold true line

“Every day. Every day before he tucked me in- *starts laughing, aj breaks lightly* he used to loom over the bed and go: *oh sam is committed now okay* evil triumphs when good men do nothing”

“I've grown so much.” LMAOOO

“Like shaggy and scooby doo!” luke finally ends the scene. Sam: :0 bye!

Side note: AJ joined the live chat and everyone was going crazy saying hi so he went “GUYS FOCUS ON THE EPIC STORYTELLING” anyway thats all, ill try to add in all his comments if i can lol

Luke with the epic stagecraft even tho even he’s not so sure where its going lol

“Stupid old bitch *laughs at his own insult* always hears when i go through the front squeaky door.” XD luke i love you

theres no way hes turning this into one of those old romcoms where hes throwing rocks at the window… Luke that is a child

Sam climbing on a chair was not on my bingo card, i put Tom, dang it

Every single one of them is sooooo good at the weird storytelling that a child does, dancing all over the place, saying everything in one breath, ending it with a question and oversharing and i love it sooo much

“Is there evil things going on over there? Luke: 👀🤷‍♂️ Audience: yes..

Toms snoring noises help- XD

“I cant do that.” “Whyyy.” “Because i physically cant do that.” luke looks so pained that he was the cause of this plot reasoning lmaooo

“Fit as a moose!” “look just- *pause* are mosses particularly fit?” yeah luke they kinda are- also why is he looking off in a different direction than where Sam is, they’re standing next to each other just on opposite sides of a fence lol

“They're the largest natural fauna.” Luke having to short joke himself😭 “well i am not the largest natural fauna.” smile of disappointment and annoyance

Sam casually going on a nerd rant 

“oooOOOOoooooOOoohhh!” “A police car!” Sam once again not letting Tom be the character he wants to be lmaooo

I don't know what kind of demon ritualistic wake up that is, but pop off Tom ok

“Oh my fuck-!” he sounds genuinely concerned lmaooo

Tom being curled backwards and yet still taller than luke 😭

Old lady margaery 2.0????

AJ in the chat: TOM VILLIAN ALERT

“I remember when mooses where the biggest fauna in the world.” love when they throw old jokes back at each other, its delightful XD

The way tom goes behind luke and cradles his waist and luke lets his arms gently sway back to touch him 😭🫠

“Stop being so cryptic what the fuck are you?” Sam really wants to genuinely know for the plot lol

“He had talent for throwing ball.” “He was even better at being a daddy.” Sam im gonna cry-

Tom’s finger wiggles and his shuffle forward are gonna be in my nightmares-

Sam seems actually put off- “i feel like those fingers have seen many things!” oh delightful he throws toms words back too!

“Thats why you had the growth spurt.” oh. Oh oh oh OHHH OH!!!! Damn that was a good plot connection wow

What is tom’s movements???? 😭😭😭

“MAMA! MAMA i've made a horrible mistake! *laughing*” the fear is real XD

“The power of christ does *draws back* nothing to me *strikes a pose*” “ah shit!” 

“Don't you know your daddy’s voice?” Tom making Aj a different character than he intended, lovely, but does help the story better than why sams mom is there all of a sudden lol

“Was that your daddy's voice?” *looks skyward* AJ: *uhhh* Yes.

“Or the offspring to get past us.” Tom, i see what you did there, but unfortunately Sam does not catch on, because like- your son(luke) was technically the quarterback- not linebacker, for the miami dolphins, but it still works because you said “like” and you and luke stole his dad’s talent to be… wait no time wise that doesn't work… tom… sorry man that doesn't make logistical sense, the way all your other plays most definitely do

“Oh you are on board now?” Tom sounds affronted lol

Tom stroking Lukes hair🫠

“You wanna stay with Mama, don't you? Do you wanna stay with your Mama?” holds him😭

“Who would you suckle on?” Audience: *disgust* Tom: *satisfied* Luke: *dissociating* AJ: *walks into frame with purpose*

“Its been a terrible year, mum beats me now.” LMAOOO

Tom: *fingers AJ*ewewewweeewewewewewewewew whatt *slurps aj’s juices????* Audience: *louder disgust*

Sam: no no- Tom: *exasperated* No it makes you younger.” AJ: ah ok! :) 

AJ in chat: EW (im guessing this is in reference to tom eating his juices but i could be wrong idk)

“Thats right. I have achieved my potential.” LMAOOO SAM!!!

Sam: Hey mama. Tom: *turns around* *getting fucking decked* LMAOOOO

“Daddy! We’re the same age!” “oh thats awesome!” *high five* lmao what??? What is even going on???

“Are you still a dolphin?” Luke: *squeals* what is going on😭😭😭

“Daddy do you still love the dolphins?” because thats the important question right now AJ: *attempts to replicate Luke’s sound and fails* ehhh- n-u- yes!

Tom: *even more done* the sports team, the dolphins AJ: *ahhh* oh i love the dolphins! Tom: *my work here is done, returns to his fetal position* Lol he just had to clarify for aj 😭

AJ in chat: LETS GO (i have no idea what this is referencing, maybe his agreement of the dolphins, maybe sam decking tom, i have no clue)

“STOP beating on women!!!” *continues to get beat on* LMAOO

Toms genuine fear as they start to lift him- XD

“NOT SO FAST!!!” “... it went pretty fast.” “it went pretty fast yeah..” XD i love them so much omg

AJ HAVING TO PLAY TWO CHARACTERS IS EVERYTHING TO ME

“Daddy its so good-” *notices how Aj has to play two characters* “you have your scene :)” ASS!!! XD

Sam not even bothering to act and just watching AJ with a grin

“They've been feeding on my juices.” *surprisingly no sounds of audience disgust* “i've been thinking about your juices” *accent change, still no audience disgust noises, although one slightly quailed “no!”*

“No we are here-” *Tom’s hand appears as a replacement, catches AJ off guard and makes him laugh* oh i know how this ends and i cannot wait

(btw on my bingo card the scene was viewed by me and my friends as “sexual tension with a tree” but y'know im not even mad that this was the turnout)

AJ in chat: things are about to get weird if i remember correctly

“Im gonna give you the most passionate kiss.” *Toms hand: *Shaking encouragingly in a nod**

Tom’s grin slowly fading to disgust as he looks away while AJ makes out with his hand lmaooo

AJ having to pause to laugh and wipe his mouth XD

“Open your mouth baby!” yesss!! Clever aj, clever lmaooo

AJ dipping Tom’s arm- excuse me while i faint omg-

AJ coming up for air before switching positions- poor Tom XD

AJ dipping himself and the way Tom immediately jumps to stabilize him 😭my heart-

AJ in chat: yep i remember correctly LMAOO

Also- im so sorry Luke and Sam, but i have no idea what you guys have been saying and probably wont know until the end of the play either because aj and tom are captivating-

Tom’s hand giving Aj head…

Ajs helpless grin as he puts his hands behind his head

Whoever the woman is in the crowd who screamed i love you

Luke and Sam trying so hard to focus, but both just watching AJ and Tom instead

The way Tom and AJ are making eye contact while Tom is miming being Aj’s wife who is also him giving him head 

Aj kneeling and losing it, Tom’s disappointed head drop as they both just die 

Luke having given up and just slouched, tongue in his cheek as he grins watching them😭- as sam tries desperately to end the scene XD

Tom and Sam both lunging to call SCENE

Tom’s supportive hand on Aj’s back while Sam just stands above him, hands on his hips, waiting for him to look up so he can see the disappointment XD

And luke just laughing :) 

AND SCENE

WOW. and i mean WOW. that was incredible. Watched this live with a friend and we lost our mindssss

Absolutely incredible. Loved it so so so so sooooo much. Amazing. Spectacular. I need a dictionary and a thesaurus to properly convey how much i enjoyed that. 

Anyway hope you found it as entertaining as I did

Side note, checked the comments: Aj here. I've only just noticed how long it took Luke and Sam to get out "nothing more beautiful than green leaves.." cause we were having too much fun on the side of the stage hahaaaa

God i love them. Anyway, this was a riot. Enjoy :) 

@snek-of-eden @dawn-speckled

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

https://www.tumblr.com/allthisscienceidontunderstand/774504308472479744/live-action-lady-and-the-tramp-but-its-actually

Ace being backstage on the shooting of these cause willy asked her to bring the dogs and she takes the baby and willy takes a picture with him that never gets published 😮‍💨

Also reminds me to ask: do they post him on their social media? Show his face etc or just back shots? - 🎀

first of all, bestie, the noise i let out when i saw these pictures was not ladylike WHATSOEVER

second of all, i LOVE the idea that ace and gunnar were there too!! 🥰

so i think at first, ace is like not into the idea of coming along. she’s only two months postpartum, still feeling weird in her body, doesn’t want the attention that going along with william will bring. but he asked if she’d bring the dogs later in the shoot so they’re not there for the whole time acting up

he’s like “oh no, it’s a closed thing. we’re going when sugo’s closed for the day and if you come along, you’ll get whatever you want off the menu”

the lure of your favorite italian food is what convinces her. so after william’s been at the restaurant for a couple of hours, ace makes sure gunnar is fed and dressed up a little, gets herself dressed up nicely too - makeup, fixes her hair, changes out of the casual loungewear that’s been her staple

the dogs are clipped onto their leashes because ace already has enough on her plate with gunnar in the stroller and she doesn’t need them possibly running off even though they’re very well trained

william is thrilled to see her and the baby and the dogs, greets her with a huge hug and a kiss on the cheek. and he looks so handsome in his purplish-pink suit, smells so good, and ace is just a girl who’s halfway in love with her baby daddy

gunnar’s wide awake as soon as he hear’s william’s voice, gurgling and kicking his feet until william rubs a hand over his stomach and kisses the baby’s head too, “sorry, little cakester, can’t pick you up right now just in case you decide to give us an explosion again”

gunnar coos in a way that ace is pretty sure means he knows exactly what he’s doing with the diaper blowouts

she settles in in the carrier while william finishes the shoot with the dogs, bouncing him in her arms and pointing at william, “look, it’s daddy and your puppies. isn’t that so fun?”

and the dogs come to her side too, when they’re bored of posing, scratching at her legs and nosing at gunnar’s socked feet. banksy nips at a sock and tugs it off the baby’s foot, delivering it to william, who laughs and tucks it in his pocket

when things are winding down, william comes to take gunnar, cuddling him close and bouncing him in his arms like a football. the baby grabs at the lapels on william’s suit, chewing on his other fist

they’re adorable together and ace takes a few photos on her phone, sending them to the nylander family group chat that she’s been part of since the summer. everyone blows up her phone with messages on how cute gunnar is

william asks the photographer if he can take a few family photos and ace objects - “no no, i’m not really dressed for it” - but william insists and before she knows it, ace is sitting at the table too, the dogs surrounding her legs while william has gunnar on his lap

there’s a few different shots, including one of ace hovering over william’s shoulder with a napkin after gunnar spit up on the shoulder of his suit. william’s laughing and ace is cringing and gunnar just looks delighted to be there

they get the photos after the shoot, when the ones of william and the dogs are posted on social media and ace can’t get over how good they look. they really look like a perfect little family and it makes her all misty

the photographer even took a few candids of them, william looking at her and gunnar with a soft expression on his face, william grinning broadly at gunnar, ace’s eyes all crinkled up as she watches them 🥹

as for gunnar on social media - i’ll do more of a deep dive, but they generally don’t post him on socials at all for a few months and if they do, it’s just a hand or a foot or a blurry shot, his face is never seen in photos that any of the nylanders post

when he’s a little older, they’re both more chill about posting pictures of the family, also because william and ace are together at that point and the relationship and baby are like toronto’s worst kept secret

they still don’t really post too much of his full face, just for privacy reasons, which is also part of the reason william never says anything publicly about the pregnancy or their relationship 🤍

[raileurta]

Thinking about a Miko getting enlarged to Cybertronian size and going feral protecting her dad Bulkhead.

Massive ⚠️ TW ⚠️dog this gets dark fast. (There is fluff at the end though)

—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—

Miko ran as fast as her legs could carry her; she had to find Bulkhead! They'd been separated when she had to flee a decepticon soldier; who she'd thankfully managed to lose in the bad weather.

Speaking of weather, the dark clouds above the human pelted her skin with their harsh cold rains. The sky continued to roar above her as she kept running. The wet terran making every step that much more difficult. She had fallen many times already evident by the mud on the girl's clothes.

Her lungs hurchled painfully in the girl's chest, begging for her to slow down but she refused. Even with her new found cybertronian height from that size gun Miko was hit with she still had lots of ground to cover.

She continued to rush feverishly.

Leaning herself against a mountain for a temporary break she tried to listen out for her friend. It was hard to hear over the noise of the storm but Miko heard a familiar yell. Bulkhead she exclaimed in her head! Rushing towards the sound with newfound energy she couldn't wait to see him. When she came to a destroyed clearing she was met with a harrowing sight.

A severely damaged Bulkhead with his legs cut off was facing the business end of Megatron's arm cannon. Miko didn't even need to think about it before she jumped in front of her friend to protect him. The human reached up in height to the halfway point of the bot’s chest.

Megatron, obviously not aspecting her, was surprised at the child’s stupid decision.

“If you want to hurt Bulkhead you'll have to go through me!” Miko declared in a yell.

“Haha, brave human, stupid but brave. Even at your current size you have no hope of defeating me. So do us both a favor and just leave with your life intact.”

Miko didn't move. She just grit her teeth more and stared up at him in defiance.

“I hope you wouldn't be smart enough to take me up on my offer.”

Megatron powered up his cannon to shoot the human girl and Miko lunged for him. Moving out of the way of the blast she jumped onto him then began to try to punch the Decepticon leader. Megatron clamored to get Miko off of him. He managed to grab her left arm and throw her off of him. He hurled Miko angrily into some nearby trees, breaking them from the impact. Painfully she got up into her knees. Shaking off the bruising pain Miko felt she began to run to Megatron again.

He activated a thin long sword on his right arm. Megatron wanted to cut this human down to size the overlord thought. He ran towards Miko himself and attempted to slice her in half, seeing what he wanted to do, she swiftly rolled out of the way of his blade. Changing directions Megatron swang right for the girl but she dogged again. Sure Megatron was far more experienced than her and was stronger but Miko was much more agile and unpredictable.

Dunking under another strike Miko attempted to close the distance again; Megatron expecting this made a faint for her side as she dogged the mech he grabbed the girl's arm, crushing it instantly in his grip. Miko let out a shrill shriek as she felt the agony of her now ruined arm. Yanking the limb away as soon as Megatron released her, she backed away. The evil overlord let out a cruel chuckle, delighting in seeing the pain he had caused. Looking down to see her left arm, a section of it was mangled beyond repair having been crushed into a bloody pulp below the elbow leaving only the hand, a bit of wrist intact, gushing out lots of blood. Well there's no fixing that Miko thought hysterically. Slapping her face with her good hand she tried to get herself together. Okay she had to stop the bleeding or she was going to pass out she thought. Yanking off her shirt with the custom alien she painted on it she used her teeth to rip out a strip. She thanked whatever God was watching that June taught her how to do this. Tying the improvised tourniquet in a tight tug Miko looked over to Megatron to see him staring at her with amusement. Of course the bastard found this funny. Turning his gaze to the horrified Bulkhead he sent her another evil glare as he walked over to him, slowly. This was definitely a trap or something but the girl didn't care.

She sprinted towards him.

As soon as she was in range Megatron turned towards her and swung his sword again. She slipped down into a slide, the wet dirt making it an easy glide as she moved under the parting in his legs. Miko jumped up and put herself between the Decepticon leader and Bulkhead again. Not seeming surprised he brandished his sword and walked towards her. Miko couldn't keep dodging forever and eventually the adrenaline was going to wear off, as another throb of pain traveled up her arm she got an idea; it was a horrible idea but it was the only one she had. Taking any leftover remnants of her only just hanging shirt she bunched the fabric in her mouth. She then grabbed her left hand and began to yank, it was barely hanging on the damaged flesh with all the bones in it turned to paste it shouldn't be too difficult to get it off. It wasn't but the pain Miko felt was beyond excruciating; she had never felt something so painful in all her life. As the skin, muscles, fat torn in wet squelches she yelled. When it finally came off it sprayed a wave of blood onto Megatron's face. Full of disgust for the organic filth on him he wiped at his face frantically trying to get it off of him. Seeing her opportunity she dashed towards him; Megatron took away his hands to see Miko charging at him with her broken hand. She jumped at the overlord once more ramming the bone part into his right optic. She doesn't know what they're made of but assuming they're more vulnerable like most eyes in people she thought they would be more easily damaged. As she made the move to stab the other optic out a sharp pain radiated through her abdomen, she slowly looked down to see Megatron's sword piercing right through her.

—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—

Bulkhead watched as Miko was stabbed through, he let out a sorrowful cry at seeing his charge being killed. What a useless guardian he was, he thought to himself. His charged hanged limply on Megatron’s sword the only her hair was moving now in the harsh winds.

As the warm blood ran into his servo Megatron brought up Miko to his face.

“I must admit you surprised me little girl. You're much more of a threat than I gave you credit for. But in the end it doesn't matter, you are still just only a

weak

pathetic

human.”

As Megatron finished his gloating Miko suddenly snapped her closed eyes open and used her good arm to pull Megatron's helm back to expose his neck’s fuel lines and bit into them viciously. She tore them out, biting and ripping everything she could get her mouth on. Even as the energon burned her face she didn't stop, not for a second. It was like she was a simple minded wild animal. Megatron tried to shake her off but she had a firm grip on his helm. He retracted the sword on his arm to use his sevos to pull her away.

The nauseating sound of tearing energon wires rang out, seemingly defining the storm in comparison. Now with her mouth dislodged she made attempts to grab at the mech’s bleeding neck. She barely got close before Megatron threw her at Bulkhead. The autobot quickly catched her new large form. Stumbling up in a slumped position akin to a broken doll she bared her teeth at him, and holy Primus fragging growled at Megatron. The sound Miko made was one he knew was going to haunt his recharge for months. It was guttlier thing, full of pain, blood, and pure animalistic anger. Unprompted the memory of something he saw a few human weeks ago surfaced in his processor.

One day while he was waiting for Miko to get out of school he had saw a carrier cat with her kitten in it, both being chased by a pack of starved dogs he thinks that they were called. It eventually was cornered between the dogs and a concrete wall. The Carrier dropped the cat sparkling and put herself between them and her spawn. The fight between the organics was slow as it was gruesome to witness. The dogs would snap at the cat trying to crush her windpipe in their maws, she would fruitlessly claw at them trying to keep them away from her sparkling. Near the end the cat was severely injured and slowly bleeding to death but she continued to fight on. The bell rang out shockingly both the animals and him. Finally, seeming to deem it not worth it anymore the dogs fled. Once the animals were out of the cat's sight she knelt down to check on her sparkling. Sniffing it lightly, once she knew it was safe the cat collapsed onto the pavement. Bulkhead scanned the creature as he feared it was dead. Once the students started to pour some noticed the aftermath. They went to the cat's side to check it was alive. He overheard their sadness and confusion chatter about the cat. One student quickly got the others' attention; They were holding the cat's sparkling. It was so small and scared in their gentle grasp but most importantly it was safe. Their talk quickly turned to getting the “kitten” as they were calling it at a safe place. He was abruptly pulled out of his overhearing when Miko pulled open his passenger side. She began talking about her “boring” day and whatever new gossip she had heard. Bulkhead had tried to respond the best he could but his processor was still focused on what he saw. While the wrecker knew next to nothing about organics he thinks that if the carrier cat was somewhere in the humans “heaven” she was up there happily with no regret.

Flash.

The loud boom of the storm pulling him back to reality. He looked towards the Decepticon as lightning flashed, and whatever Megatron had seen on Miko’s face Bulkhead could tell had chilled him to his very spark.

Multitude of emotions cycled through the bot's face plate he couldn't decipher before settling on an unreadable neutral expression. Megatron gave Miko a stiff nod and he then turned into his alt mode then simply left; just like that. Seeing their enemy fleeing Miko collapsed onto her guardian and let out a sigh of relief.

—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—

Back at the base Bulkhead sat on the metal gurney trying to tune out Ratchet yelling at him for his loss of pedes. He was more focused on his charge. She was passed out beside him, her pale face settled into a peaceful one. Miko was still enlarged by the Decepticon’s gun. Apparently it was a permanent alteration for the foreseeable future. That was definitely something he had to get used to.

Miko was hooked up to a bot sized fake blood bag, with new clean clothes, with still a bit of dirt in her hair. For all intensive purposes she should have died from blood loss hours ago but here she was still kicking. Ratchet couldn't figure out why but he theorized it was a side effect of the size ray she was hit with. The medic then again did say this was “defies all know logic” Miko they were talking about, so who knows.

Yep that's his Miko alright. Continuing to fight the impossible even when the battle was done. She really is a true wrecker Bulkhead thought proudly. He definitely has both now a new found fear and respect for her. Gently taking his charge’s hand he laid back onto the gurney and started to go into recharge, tuning out Ratchet’s yelling. It's been a long day for both of them.

Just before recharge overtook him he thought back to Megatron's horrified face. He wondered what he had seen……. whatever it was he would never know and he would like to keep it that way.

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[jazzzzzzhands]

So nobody asked for this but According to the dialogue So FAR Howdy has 6-7 siblings, one Aunt, and maybe a cousin -Drew is a maybe because he said "Her (Sue's) brother" and not "Our Brother" like he tend to do with the rest. -The same thing with Henry. Henry is "Barley's cousin" not "Our Cousin" -Barley is either listed as both a brother AND a cousin OR there is two "Barley"s in the family -His father was mentioned, but we don't have a name yet Also "Wooly" Aunt Molly I think could be a Moth, since moths are very fluffy, and she seems to be an obscure relative I also think that there is a possibility that the entire family is grown into butterflies, while Howdy remains a caterpillar, although he is fully grown as well. But that's just my little thoughts BUT anyways, these are just silly observations and I hope we get to hear more about his family!!! Transcript of the OG conversation below:

HOWDY: …So my brother Charlie tells my sister Dolly that our brother Barley’s cousin Henry is turnin’ over a new leaf! But if ya ask me, Barn, a caterpillar’s always turnin’ over leaves! …We just call it a salad!

BARNABY: So you don’t believe the poor guy? Sounds like you’re just given’ him the short end of the stick.

HOWDY: Short end of the- [Befuddled sound] We’ve given that clown the whole branch!

BARNABY: So he’s a clown too? Now you’re speakin’ my language, Howdy!

HOWDY: You wouldn’t believe what happened next- So my brother Chuck wished our brother Buck good luck on gettin’ that cluck Henry to straighten up and fly right!

BARNABY: Fly? Wait, wait, wait- he’s a butterfly? I thought he was a caterpillar!

HOWDY: [Lets out a small laugh but quickly catches himself, tutting Barnaby] You’re bein’ a wise guy, Barn, but I’m serious! Then- You’re not gonna believe this- Outta the blue comes our sister Sue and her brother Drew talking to my sister Dolly about gettin’ Henry on a trolley to see our aunt Molly-

BARNABY: Woolly Aunt Molly?

HOWDY: Woolly Aunt Molly, Barn! On my father’s left hand side- My left, not yours! Maybe… My upper left hand-side!

BARNABY: [A hint of playful sarcasm] How could I get that confused?

HOWDY: But long story short- Molly tells Henry to listen to our cousin Barley and my brother Charlie who insist they’re through with my sister Sue and her brother Drew and to get back on that trolley and talk to Dolly about gettin’ his act together!

BARNABY: Oh brother-

HOWDY: No no, Dolly’s my sister!

[A brief pause, then both start laughing uproariously]

HOWDY: [Slowly winding down laughter] I know I can always talk to you, Barn. I tell ya, havin’ a big family ain’t easy- Too many things to keep track of.

BARNABY: You’re right about that- I’m just listenin’ in and I can barely keep track! The only family I got to keep track of is my dear, sweet Mama.

HOWDY: That’s right- Y’know, next time she comes around, you oughta let me serve her one of my strawberry soda pops!

BARNABY: Nobody makes ‘em like you do, pal. Speaking of which… How’s that drink treating you, Wally?

[howtodisappearcompletelyand]

20/10 stars little guy

[itspileofgoodthings]

Random thought but I do think that fun can be such a good marker of whether or not something is healthy for you or even sometimes if it’s just good in general.

[a-ginger-from]

Confession time: I don't really give a damn about the transfer market