#like he full on chokes a guy into unconsciousness

[ladyjotei]

Lowkey one of my favorite parts of Barbie is that Allan is revealed to be an expert at hand-to-hand combat who is entirely willing to get genuinely violent, and then it is simply never discussed again.

[gatorbites-imagines]

Kinktober day 23

Dick Grayson + prostate massage/torture

On the shorter side, since I got another assignment to write. Thankfully ill be done with this class after Christmas, which hopefully means less stress.

On another note, the spiderman 2 game arrived in the mail and now im waiting excitedly for my schedule to clear up enough that I can play it :)

Reader isn’t actually present, but is mentioned.

Kinktober 2023 masterlist.

Dick huffed softly where he sat, his hips rocking slowly back and forth unconsciously, like he had no control of the action. His fingers dug into the wood of the kitchen table he had sat himself in when the buzzing of the toy you’d left in him got too strong.

He shivered as the speed of the toy suddenly slowed, meaning you must have turned it down on whatever app you used to control it from your phone. Dick exhaled roughly as he almost slumped against the table, his muscles twitching as he ground his teeth, clenching his eyes shut as he felt sweat running down his face and torso.

The toy was pushed perfectly against his prostate, leaving his knees buckling and legs shaking whenever you flicked it on. Normally Dick would have allowed himself to moan and cry as much as he wanted, but it was the middle of the day, and even if he was inside your guy’s apartment, he still felt a little too proud to become the mess he knew he could be when you weren’t even there.

The only way you were involved was controlling the dial of the toy inside him. Dick couldn’t help but squeeze around his, giving a gruff moan at the unyielding hardness of a toy inside him, feeling so different from your cock when he would ride you.

This had all been his idea in the first place, he had even bought the toy himself and downloaded the app onto your phone, but as he felt the buzzing suddenly shoot up to one of the higher settings he almost regretted it. He knew he could easily take it out, but there was also something so delicious about the way he felt owned by you in some way. Like you were in full control of him and his pleasure, a choked keen leaving his mouth as the toy buzzed cruelly against his sensitive prostate.

Dick ended up folding his arms on the table and burying his face in them, the rocking of his hips growing more bold as his teeth dug into his spit slick lip. He released the grip on his lip as suddenly the toy kicked into the highest setting, digging into his prostate in a way that had his entire body seizing up, his legs kicking and his arms tensing.

His cock was drooling, soaking up the inside of his boxers as he gasped and panted, his insides squeezing and releasing around the toys relentless buzzing, the need to cum only rising in his veins as his breathing grew quicker and shorter. He was so close, almost there- when suddenly the toy turned down to one of the lowest settings again.

The sudden change in the toy had Dick slumping against the table, his body aching from his hard he had been clenching his muscles and suddenly released them. The process repeated again and again, the toy kicking up and almost torturing that spot inside him, leaving him keening and gasping, almost clawing at the table as his legs twitched and kicked. But then suddenly it would return to that low setting he could barely feel following the brutal pace the toy had been in just before.

Dick wasn’t even sure how long the process repeated, only that his head was growing stuffy and he was sure that was a pool of drool on the table, as he couldn’t seem to find it in himself to close his mouth as he kept huffing and moaning.

His eyes fluttered and every single muscle in his body burned at how hard he clenched them all, as once more the rapid pace of the toy brought him closer to orgasm, wheezed keens and stuttery moans forcing their way out of his throat as he grew close once more.

Part of him was sure you were gonna turn it off right as he neared the end, but you didn’t, and finally he felt the sweet feeling of release. Dick was quick to clamp a hand over his mouth so he wouldn’t have howled at how it felt, the orgasm running through his veins like thick syrup and leaving his head spinning, his hips jumping and thighs twitching as he spilled inside his boxers, further soaking the already precum covered fabric.

Through all of it, the toy still buzzed on, though it did slow down after a while as you must have assumed he had cum, especially after all that. Dick needed a while to come back to earth, the acrobat vigilante shakily getting to his feet and moving into the bathroom on easy feet.

There was no way he would have stood in the shower, so he ended up filling the bathtub, kicking off his soppy boxers with a wet plap as they landed on the floor, and just sliding into the tub, not caring about anything one would normally do before getting into a bathtub like that.

Dick had almost fully relaxed once more, his head laying on the edge of the tub when the toy started buzzing again, a soft moan leaving him as his prostate still felt raw from his former orgasm, but he couldn’t keep his cock from giving a twitch, his eyes falling shut as he settled into the water, ready to go again.

[autisticgaypirates]

gettin' frisky (NSFW!) (*´ω｀*)

writing this because i'm OVULATING 💜

you guys already know wtf is gonna go down rn

fem!afab!reader, established relationship

obviously nsfw, mdni!!!!!! nothing suuuper freaky but y'know.. you can't have smut without getting your freak on a little

includes zoro, sanji, and ace

zoro ˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚

- not big on foreplay at all, like don't even bother wondering if he'll be a tease because he won't

- oh he loves being dominant..... oh he LOVES it

- always missionary or doggy style, he likes being on top and getting the whole view

- will go even harder if you call him sir or daddy

- tbh? he's kinda a sadist, but not in a seriously harmful or hurtful way

- i mean sadist in a wants-to-smack-your-ass-so-hard-it-leaves-a-handprint way

- even though he's not a very talkative person, he LOVES to talk you through it

- he'll degrade you if you're cool with it, but if you do as he says you'll get a lot of praise

- LOVESSS to finish inside you

- he's not good at the whole aftercare thing, so you might just need to remind him your kinda.. y'know.. dripping his children

you lay beneath him in a mating press with the sound of the creaking bed and deep, heavy breaths in the background. his calloused fingers interlink with yours, pushing your hands above your head to ensure that you have no power. "you little slut, is this what you wanted for so long?" he said deeply, ramming himself inside you even harder than before. his grip on your hands tightens. "huh? huh?? you can't be silent forever. this is my pussy, and you're my bitch, answer me." you let out a high-pitched moan and choke out your next words. "y-yes zoro! it's everything i wanted!" his grip loosens as he smirks, looking down at you like you're his prey. he softens his thrusts a bit, just so he doesn't bruise your cervix. "goooood girl," he coos. "and who's pussy is this?" "yours, sir." he picks up his pace again. "and who do you belong to?" your legs begin to shake. "y-you, sir! i'm yours sir!" he goes full force as your breath hitches, a hungry smile plastered on his face. he licks his lips at you as you make your pretty sounds. "you're doing so good, i'm so close, pretty girl." his jaw hangs open as he lets out soft whimpers that harmonize with your whines as you both finish at the same time. he slowly pulls out as he watches it all pour out of you. he smirks at the sight before looking at you and placing a lazy kiss on your lips. he flops down beside you, an unconscious smile on his face as his eyes begin to flutter shut. "um..." you say, tapping him on the shoulder. he sits up and sees you pointing at your mess. "a little help here?" you say with a laugh.

sanji ˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚

- sanji doesn't fuck, he makes love

- even though he's all over women and seems incredibly perverted, he doesn't care for the idea of hooking up with a random woman

- LOVESS foreplay and taking his sweet time

- very much a switch tbh

- his favorite position is cowgirl, but when he's feeling more romantic and less frisky, he's big on missionary

- BIIIIIIIG mommy kink (when submissive) and praise kink

- he's either whispering sweet nothings in french or screaming your name two octaves higher than his normal voice, no in between

- when he's in control though, it's so intimate and genuine and he loves loving you

- he only cares about you, he doesn't care if he'll explode if he doesn't cum, he'll wait until you're ready too

- as much as he'd love to finish inside you, he's kinda afraid to, so he'll always make sure to pull out right after you're done

- will immediately clean you up and make you tea and tuck you into bed, you're his princess

both shirts were now off, your pants off and on the floor. with sanji above you, he slowly and passionately kisses you, one hand holding him up and the other undoing his belt. after getting his pants off, he hooks two fingers on the edge of your panties that you wear specially for him. he looks up at you with soft eyes. "may i?" he says gently. you nod in response as he pulls them down and off your leg. "même si la mer nous entoure, son scintillement n'est pas comparable à toi," he whispers, slowly spreading your legs open. he leaves gentle kisses along your soft thighs before reaching your womanhood. he kisses it deeply, just grazing over your clit, before dipping his tongue in and having a taste for himself. his refusal to break eye contact with you as he eats you out drives you crazy, and he knows it. when you ever so slightly begin to feel your high, he pulls away. "merci, belle," he tells you, aligning his shaft with you. he slowly pushes himself in, making both of you let out a groan of pleasure. he bites down on his lip hard as he grips the sheets beneath you. he begins to move slowly, looking into your eyes lovingly. you do the same back, letting out a quiet whimper with each thrust. he gently places a hand on your stomach, brushing it across your body and all your curves in admiration. his hand ends up on the side of your face, cupping it. he leans in close to your ear. "you are love. we are an art, mon amour." he plants a kiss on your temple before picking up his pace, going a little harder. with a consistent rhythm and floods of sweet nothings, sanji is finally starting to reach his climax. "i love you," he whispers before going full force on you. his eyes hardly ever leave yours, and if they do, they're admiring the sculpture in which your body was crafted into. "i love you," you whisper back, breathily. "i love you," you say a little louder. "i love you sanji, fuck, i love you!" you borderline yell your admiration for him as you come down from your high, sanji's pace settling. he pulls out and finishes on your stomach, truly believing you two created a masterpiece. "i love you. i'll be right back," sanji tells you before throwing a towel around his waist and leaving the room. you already know where he's going. he's grabbing a damp rag to clean you with, a cup of your favorite tea, and running you a hot bath with your favorite scented candle. this is what making love really means.

ace ˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚

- i'm gonna be so honest, he's so unserious about literally everything

- like you'll whip your tits out and this man will go "WOWZA!"

- he very much likes when you give him head beforehand, it gets him hard, hot, and ready

- very much dominant, but that's just because he's so passionate and so excited that he just wants to get going

- he LOVESSS doggy style, he's very much an ass man (he loves your face equally though don't worry) and he loves to smack your ass

- he's not huge on the romantic aspect and very much himself even in the bedroom

- very very chatty, loves to hear the changes in your voice and REALLY loves when you can't even speak

- when you think he's giving his all, girl not even close you just got started

- he'll compliment you on EVERYTHING, idk he kinda has this thing where he just needs to talk to you

- will ALWAYS ask if you want him to cum in you or pull out, and if you don't answer, he pulls out and cums on your ass

- aftercare with ace is so fucking funny because he'll talk about it like a sports event

you were on your knees in front of him, his shaft now covered in your saliva. he brushes his hand down your hair. "good job baby," he coos. you look up as he smiles down at you. "i'm ready for ya," he says with a smile. you stand up to an immediate smack on the ass. "c'mon pretty girl, ass up for me, i can't wait much longer," he tells you eagerly. you crawl onto the bed, ass up as you rest on your elbows. another smack, this one harder than the other. you let out a small whimper. "what a pretty sight for me," ace says under his breath, squeezing your ass and placing the tip along your slit. "a pretty pussy and nice, big ass on a beautiful girl." you suddenly feel his length push inside you, causing you to let out a yelp. he starts rocking back and forth, slow but hard. you feel his hands grip your hips to pull you up higher. each thrust makes you let out a noise of delight. "pussy is so good babe, and it's all for me?" ace asks you sweetly. "yes, yes all for you," you mutter, somehow already choking on your own words. he gives your ass another hard smack. "thank god," he mumbles before going harder into you. the wooden bed beneath the two of you is loud, and it almost feels unstable. "oh god... ah yeah," ace says, going even faster than he did before. "ohhh fuck yeah, you love it when i fuck you hard like this, huh?" "i- i fuck- i fucking love it!" "yeah? you love me, too?" "yes, yes, i- i love you, ace!" he keeps his speed but rams into your even harder. you can't speak at this point. you're yelling his name and letting out choked moans. "i love you so fucking much.." ace says with gritted teeth. "i love you, i love this pussy, i love this ass, i- gah, fuck! in or out?" "i-in!" the two of you are yelling at each other at this point. "oh god, oh god i'm cumming, mm fuck i'm cumming babe!" ace releases everything he has inside you, and the feeling of his length twitch right on your g-spot is enough to bring you to your climax as well. he slowly pulls out with a hiss, watching it all pour out of you. "damn... we did good," he says with a laugh. he grabs the towel nearby and cleans you up to the best of his ability. when he's done, you lower your hips onto the bed and flop down on your back as he crawls over to lay next to you. "have you like..." ace begins to ask. "... been doing squats lately? i always knew you had a great ass but-" "ugh, ace really?" you say with a laugh. "it's true! and y'know what, i found out that i really like when you tell me you love me during all that." you laugh and place a kiss on his forehead. "noted."

ok so this was insane lowkey and i did NOT expect to write that much for sanji but shit happens when you have a uterus

[luxesiren]

⸻ 𝐖𝐀𝐃𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍𝐒

cw :: nsfw content (MDNI)

a/n :: i love this man so much. i don't think yall understand this big ass man? i love him so much and i want him.

{✰} sfw ::

{✰} wade is a mercenary but he keeps his work life away from you so you don't get hurt because he doesn't want to lose you.

{✰} wade is always joking around with you, his one goal is to make you laugh every day, even when he's not with you. he always sends you messages and voice memos which make you laugh.

{✰} wade loves cooking and he would get all dramatic and make you a full-course meal as if he's on chopped or something. he wants you to pretend to be gordon ramsay

{✰} wade loves spending money on you, he doesn't use the money for anything besides food and rent for his apartment, so he loves spending it on you. whatever you want, he gets it for you. any time you go out to dinner wade will threaten to drop your wallet off a cliff because "why're you trying to pay? don't do that again or i will throw your wallet off a cliff and into some water."

{✰} wade would get matching nails with you, whatever set you get, he's ready to get a matching set.

{✰} wade doesn't like to have his mask off in public because of his scars and at first, he didn't even show you his face half the time but now that you guys have been together for so long, he takes it off around you because he knows it doesn't phase you.

{✰} wade loves physical touch so naturally, he would be all over you. wade likes to think of himself as a murderous teddy bear that only really cares about you.

{✰} wade doesn't like arguing with you unless it's playfully and not about anything serious but if it's a serious argument then he will start to get anxious and unconsciously start to self-sabotage.

{✰} wade gets emotional over chick flicks and when you ask if he's crying he'll say, "of course not...it's just a little dusty in here."

{✰} wade likes bringing you souvenirs from the countries he's visited for work and he brings you random trinkets that you will never use but he lights up when he brings them to you so you put them on display around your shared apartment.

{✰} nsfw ::

{✰} wade loves kissing, he likes the feel of your lips on his. he likes to suck on your bottom lip making you whine into his mouth.

{✰} wade is possessive and jealous, he will mark your neck just so everyone could see that you're taken and no one else could have your attention. he wouldn't blame you for being ogled but he would take it out on you, fucking into you so roughly and so deeply while you cry into the sheets, "fuck, you're mine. this pussy is mine. say it, say it's mine." you couldn't do anything but moan loudly and say exactly that, "fuck, daddy! it's yours, i'm yours!

{✰} wade is into thigh riding. he will watch you chase your release on his thigh before fucking the way you want him to, he ultimately wants to see you beg him to fuck you.

{✰} wade is 100% into praise and degradation, he wants to make you're okay with it before he says something that triggers you in bed.

{✰} on occasion, wade likes to be restrained. he likes when you have some type of power over him, makes him cum harder and he likes when you tease him. he keeps handcuffs by the bed just for this specific moment, you're in his lap and taking your time riding him - slowly grinding your hips just to make him beg you, "please, baby.. let me fuck you, please."

{✰} wade is into choking, he loves to see his hand wrapped around your throat while he has you in a mating press, pushing all his weight onto you and fucking you deep enough to make you cum over and over.

{✰} sometimes when wade is feeling very needy, he just needs you. times like this, he'll take his time with you, fingering for a long time to make sure you can take him, eating your pussy like he's starving before he fucks you nice and slow saying how much he loves you. "i love you so much, baby. so good for me, taking all of me so well."

{✰} speaking of... wade is a munch. he will happily lap at your slick, sit you on his face, and grip your thighs while you ride his face, using him for your own pleasure. he would also take the opportunity to overstimulate you, your thighs wrapped around his head trying to push him away having already cum twice but he wants more from you.

© 𝐥𝐮𝐱𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐧 | all rights reserved to me. please do not steal, copy, or repost to other websites.

[khuzena]

Just a coworker

Dr ratio x g/n!reader (i tried)

Part 1, Part 2

cw. angst, super slow burn, they eventually get tgt, hurf/comfort, jealousy brr, reader is unhinged, mentions of drugs, kinda cringe but who cares I've written worse, not proofread, dr ratio is a pussy

a/n: I HATE LIFE SJNAANAN

A week passed and you got the jist of it, you were already done with the basics but everytime that man always found a reason to keep tutoring you.

You were grading some papers until you felt someone looming over you and snooping around your laptop.

“Hey!”

“Do you really need to shout?”

You hid your laptop away from him as he pried for any more info, causing you to kick his leg.

“Who’re you talking to?”

“Why the hell would you care? Plus im grading some papers, you asshole”

You typed away as he didn't leave your side, just watching you input some values— damn one of your students got a 2/100? Might as well make them repeat a grade.

“Which idiot fails literature? More or less just essay writing?”

“Uh…”, you paused, your other hand getting your coffee and sipping on it, “An illiterate person?”

No other words were shared as you two just sat in silence, him staring at the grading sheet and you typing away on your keyboard.

…

It was a quiet day, peaceful even. If it weren't for a fight that broke out at the food court. You should mind your business, but your favourite student had been gravely injured; worry comes easy.

You ran to the student, one hand rested on his leg as it bled, “Hey, stay with me— breathe.”

Your student, Mike, had been buying some coke from some guy in your coworker’s class, turns out Mike got scammed and well, you did not know the full story to take any full action but the blood shed was enough to panic.

“Mike, Mike!”

You held him, you were not an expert at cpr or had any training on how to deal with that much bleeding or anything about dealing with concussions.

Shit, shit.

“We need a doctor!”

Despite your desperate yelling, none were brave to come forth to help, the others just recording or covering their eyes.

What were you supposed to do?

You held onto mike as the others tried to restrain the guy that hurt him, this was bad.

Until you saw Veritas buying some coffee at the new coffee shop from weeks ago.

“Hey you!”

Veritas does not flinch, he does not respond.

“DOCTOR VERITAS RA—”

He groaned, about to run away yet you yelling his full name was enough to make him regret not buying earplugs prior to this incident.

He walked up to you and your student as he kneeled at the both of you’s level.

“What exactly happened?”

No matter how much he hates you and your guts, he still has a duty as a doctor.

“Some asshole beat him up, fuckin’ hell”

He doesn't say anything, before laying Mike down in a more comfortable position and getting a pill from his pocket.

“What's that?”

“Tylenol”

He forced open Mike's mouth and shoving down a pill.

“Isn't that a tad bit aggressive?” Mike was near choking as you patted his back and elevated his seating position.

“So it's better to airplane the pill in his mouth like he's 2 and let him die then?”

“That's not what I meant.” you sneered before some guys from the medical department ran to your side and took care of it.

Now you two were just standing behind the infirmary door and waiting for any update.

“I'm going to miss my class because of you.”

You laughed, the audacity of this man?

“Then go, I didn't ask you to stay.”

It's so hard to read this man when he has his alabaster head on, you can't even tell what he's thinking.

“You talk too much”

“You started it!”

“Just stop talking”

“Whatever.”

You peaked through the window and saw Mike unconscious on his bed, even though it wasn't your fault, it feels like it is…

You sighed as the nurse left the room, standing still before she spoke, “He's fine. It's good that you and Dr. Ratio was there.”

“Uhh yeah…”

You really didn't do much…

Veritas stayed silent as the nurse left, he's not one to like small talk.

“huff… huff… finally.”

You raised an eyebrow, before registering whose voice it was, your eyes lighting up.

“Amir!”

“Whew… I had to end class early, I learned about what happened too late.”

“It's not your fault”

Amir sighed while leaning so ungodly close to you, before Veritas had some audacity left in him to make a comment, “Actually, it is.”, he really has no shame does he?

“I apologise.”

“Now you're just being rude.”

Veritas turned away, can't that man just leave you both alone?

“I don't care. It was both your student's that got into this mess.”

“I have over a hundred students, how could I monitor all of them?”

“Yet you still have to take responsibility for it. I can't believe you let it get to that level.”

“Then leave, if you're just gonna be rude then shut up.”

Amir's jaw hung when he heard you literally tell the Dr. Ratio himself to shut it, not even the people from the IPC would have this level of audacity. It was your last straw, you've already dealt with enough bullshit for the day.

Usually, he would have some snarky reply up in his sleeves but what's crazy is that he just walked away.

“Did you just—”

“I did.”

“Wow.”

—

You were already about to go home as it was getting late, who knew having to shoulder the aftermath of that fight would be that tiring? No shit sherlock.

Peace and quiet, no one to bother you—

“You there.” that familiar voice echoing in the hallways as loud stomps were nearing your direction.

You spoke too soon. Why him of all people?

“You didn't come to today's tutoring session.”

You crossed your arms, looking up at him. Wow. He wasn't wearing his alabaster head? Can't say that it's new but the opportunity to stare at his face was a rare occurrence. But, he infuriates you too much that you'd rather kiss mud than oogle at him.

“And?”

“What do you mean ‘and’? I was waiting for you.”

You eyed him up and down, he did look upset. But did he really think you'd have the energy to confront him, much less see him after what happened today?

“I told you I wouldn't be able to attend tutoring lessons as I have someone to tutor too”

“When did you say that?”

“Two days ago?”

He was baffled, utterly baffled. When did you say that? You must be lying. Despite his stone head obstructing you from any chance to see him right now, by his voice, he was fuming.

He crossed his arms, his right foot tapping aggressively, “I do not recall you saying that.”

“But I did.”, his eyebrows furrowed as you spoke with clear conviction, what do you mean you did?

“You should've told me.”

“I did.”

“Then— why are you being so difficult?”

“It's not me who's being difficult, why are you even mad?”

Like that, the words at the tip of his tongue vanished. Exactly, why was he so worked up?

“You're just using this as an excuse to not deal with the issue.”

You had enough of his bullshit. You started to walk the other way but he just couldn't leave you alone.

“And what if I am? Get lost.”

“We need to talk.”

You turned your heel and faced him, face red and hot then you pointed at him,

“About what? About how sure it's absolutely my fault about what happened today, I'm an idiot, I don't know anything!”

“Now you're just blowing the issue up into something completely different.”

“What else is there to say?”

“You—”

He got silent, biting his lip under that stone head as his temper got the best of him.

“You really are an idiot.”

…

“Just leave me alone.”

There were no other words exchanged as you walked away, your footsteps getting more faint as a second, another one and another pass.

He shook his head at your outburst, you really were an idiot, incompetent and… whatever. At least now that blabbermouth always peering over his shoulder is gone.

…

As you walked home, you couldn't help but cry. There was nothing to cry over but it was too much. The heads berating you for not paying attention to your students, that a scandal like that could ruin the university— to hell with that shit, to hell with that university.

At least you felt safe, at home, with the company of your cats.

“Meow?”

Ah.

You hugged your cat, its fur getting wet as tears dripped, you were starting to taste the saline tears as it creeped into the corners of your lips.

Your phone rang with notifications from the doctor, Wait— how'd he even get your number? shit. But god won't he just leave you alone?

With a click, the notifications died down leaving only your quiet sniffles and your cat’s purr to be heard in the living room.

You didn't have any energy to eat, to hell with your health.

You turned off the lights and plopped into your bed, your cat joining you (yay) as the soft glow of the lamp illuminated the room.

You let out a yawn, turning the lights off but there was a call notification.

‘From Unknown Number’

You felt the urge to swipe and listen to what he had to say, but it's probably bullshit.

You fell asleep.

[From Unknown Number.]

:hey.

:answer me.

:stop being so difficult and just give me 3 minutes.

:Are you there?

:idiot.

:hey.

[99 more unread messages]

…

Time flies, three days flew by already yet it still feels like yesterday. You feel like shit, yeah the issue has been resolved, everything's fine but why did something just feel so wrong?

It was a good rest though, bless that lady who allowed you to have a few days off.

[From Unknown Number]

:I know you're seeing this.

:Stop acting like a child.

:Come on.

:You moron.

[231 more unread messages]

…

Phew, when you entered the faculty room, there was no Veritas in sight. Good, good.

You laid down your satchel on your desk and readied some stuff before heading out, making sure to check all hallways before you make a move; don't want to see the Doctor so early in the morning. (checking every hallway 24/7? What is this? Fnaf?!?)

Things were uncannily peaceful today, did he not come to work today? Or… Maybe you just got really lucky that you both did not cross paths for today.

“And,” you wrote diligently on the whiteboard, “That ends our discussion for today.”

The time ticked to 4:58 pm, you could already see some of your students pack their things.

“Any questions?”

They all shook their heads no as you finally dismissed them, oh how you missed being in your classroom despite being away for merely 3 days.

Today's a lucky day, no issues, no Veritas Ratio in sight.

“Hey __”

You jolted at the sudden call of your name, your head turning from the sound as you see Amir with a worried expression.

“Oh, Amir?”

So suddenly, he pulled you into a hug.

“What're you doin—”

“I was worried.”

“About?”

“You were no contact with everyone for three days, we were all worried.”

You awkwardly laughed, Amir was a fine man, definitely not your type though. You squirmed away from his hold.

“Yeah, just needed a break”

“Oh, I see.”

He paused, “You good now?”, his tone laced with concern.

“Yeah, at least I think so.”

“That's good.”

Your best friend, he was not stupid. He was intuitive too, he eyed you like you were some sort of experiment and like with any experiment, he's made his hypothesis.

“You don't sound ‘good’”

“What do you mean?”

“Is this about Dr. Ratio?”

Bingo, right on the money. There was no use trying to lie to him, especially not after chuckling awkwardly when you got caught.

You nodded, confirming his guess, “Knew it.”

He was in deep thought as he tried to think of any and every possibility why.

“Are you guys dating or something?”

You choked on your own spit— him of all people? Is he out of his mind? At this point, the idea of getting with that socially inept man sounds like an insult.

“Are you trying to piss me off?”

“Calm down sponge bob squarepants, geez”

You groaned as he handed you a juice box. “Thanks,” you quietly muttered out.

…

It was 5 pm, by now, everyone's probably clocked out by now.

It's weird, a 5 pm where you don't get tutor lessons from him.

Whatever, food for thought.

As you left the faculty room, a small part in you wanted to catch a glimpse of him despite you trying to avoid him. Did you miss him? or was just not being alone at these hours too comforting?

He wasn't there. As expected.

…

The next day, you see Veritas, you two walk past each other, he did not spare you a glance.

“Doctor…”

Wind breezes through the both of you but you stood still as he kept walking to his class. How cold.

It was no use trying to confront him, atleast, not here.

For a second, your gaze softened but you quickly got back to your senses. This feeling was strange.

…

The bell rang and, as usual, everyone left. What a fulfilling job.

This week has been really quiet. Peaceful but something was missing. Your life was fun, not this mundane even before Veritas but a part of you looks for him. No no, you were just being insane or something.

The faculty room door slid open, then, just as you wished would never happen (oh really?) Veritas was at you guys’ usual tutoring spot.

You wanted to run but your bag was there. Mustering up the courage, you tiptoed and grabbed your satchel, it felt like playing a horror game with how stealthy you were trying to be.

Shit.

Your pen fell, hopefully it didn't catch his attention.

Just as you were about to go grab it, he took it and handed it to you.

You gulped and took the pen, wanting to run but you froze on the spot.

“You look stupid trying to act stealthy.”

You didn't reply, only gulping nervously as you stayed still.

“What? Say something.”

Truth is, you had nothing to say.

“Sigh, you really like making things so difficult, don't you?”

He doesn't stop you from leaving, but maybe it was you stopping yourself from leaving.

An awkward silence ensued, it was getting annoying, for him, atleast.

“Aren't you going to leave?”

You don't say anything, just standing still, again.

“Answer me.”

Why did you enter the room?

“...” Veritas walked up to you, his codex not in hand as leaned closer.

“Give me 3 minutes.”

He raised your chin with a finger, face unreadable despite his alabaster head gone. It's the third or fourth? You've lost count how many times you saw his real face. Your memory was shit.

“I just want to talk about how…”

He bit his lip, yet his eyes remained fixed on your blank expression.

“That I want to apologise for my behaviour last week.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

That same old silence, he couldn't find the right words, he doesn't know how to say sorry.

“Well…”

“Well?”

Did he stutter? That's odd; very.

“I…” His eyes leave yours, he's practised saying it but it's the hardest thing he'll ever have to do, “I'm…”

Curious eyes gaze into his conflicted ones. Can he even say it?

“So…” sorry.

“I'm sorry.”

You stare at him with shock, did he just apologise?

“Did I hear that right?”

“God damn it.”

He pulled away and walked away to his desk but you followed him, “Hey, did you mean it?”

“Why wouldn't I?”

He knew you'd react like this, he expected you to laugh, mock him or anything but you just look at him with a look of shock—

“I see.”

—And somewhat relieved of what he said.

“I'm sorry too.” He was envious of how easily you spoke those words, you were no genius, yet you were better than him at apologising.

“I shouldn't uh—”

“I just want to say that—”

You cleared your throat, licking your lips in anxiety, “You go first”

“No you—”

“No, you.”

He hung his head low, before looking in your direction.

“It was uncalled for me to treat you and that man that way.”

“I'm listening.”

“I didn't take into account that you both were probably stressed from the situation and…”

He couldn't find the words, nothing was new to him. Complex maths? Easy. Medicine? Easy. Philosophy? Done. History? Is this a joke? He knows everything!

Other than one thing.

“I'm sorry.”

Apologising.

His words brought you immense relief, it was your turn to speak. For the first time, you can read his face. He looked pitiful. Did he not get enough sleep lately?

“I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have lashed out on you.”

How could you just have the knack to be so… Human? That, he couldn't understand. Being genuine, felt new.

“I understand.”

…

“What now?”

He fixed his books on the shelf, the ones he wanted to share with you.

“I dont know.”

“I thought you knew everything?”

He rolled his eyes as you teased him for it, he shouldn't have apologised.

“Stop talking, and also.”

He handed you some wipes, what was it for?

“Your hand,” you looked down at your dominant hand, seeing whiteboard marker creases, “Clean it up.”

“Oh okay.”

You wiped the stains off, but you wondered how perceptive he was. You didn't even notice it yourself.

“How's the tutor lesson with your student?”

Ah, that guy. It's been long since you've finished tutoring him with the basics.

“Went smoothly, he passed his exam”

He hummed, he finished tidying up his desk, good that you listened to his lectures.

“What did you teach him?”

“Until just page 25”

“Huh?”

But you studied the entire book with him, if you just needed help with just page 25, the tutor session would've only taken a week.

“Did you just keep going to the tutor sessions to see me?”

“Maybe, maybe not”

A soft smile creeped up in your face as you saw him short circuit for a bit before regaining his senses.

“You jest”

“I do not.”

…

“So… When's the next session?”

“At my place, tonight. It's getting late.”

Oh? At his place? What a bold offer—

“Just reviewing?”

“Just reviewing.”

You laughed as he rolled his eyes, the two of you leaving the faculty room.

“Under one condition.”

You raised an eyebrow, what was he asking for now?

“A date.”

“Pardon?”

“Do I have to repeat myself?”

You choked on your spit, that's absurd— god.

“No, I heard you. Fine.”

“Agreeing that easily?”

“Do you want me to refuse?” He was starting to get cocky, might as well drag him back down to earth.

“No, you still need to learn more about Quantum Mechanics.”

“Fine.”

…

Veritas pulled you close to him as you both walked the sidewalk, isn't he such a gentleman?

“The tab's on you?” no way were you paying the tab, he better pay it.

He scoffed, he could feel you hold onto his arm as he made sure you were on the right side of the lane to protect you of some sort.

“Whatever, you moron. Hurry up, we still have so much to review.”

A/N: its so bad wtf😭😭😭😢

[anonymous-dentist]

Or: The Vampire Prince has run away from home. Coincidentally, a hot guy has passed out on Roier's doorstep.

For Day One of @ender-princee's QSMP AU Week! Idk how many of these I'm going to do, but I wanted to get at least this one done!

-

Since the death of his son, Roier has spent his days peacefully laying in the pond behind his house and watching the clouds. Sometimes he makes up stories for them, sometimes he fills his mouth with water and waits for his lungs to collapse, sometimes he imagines Jaiden on the shoreline sketching the clouds out with Bobby by her side.

It's pretty chill.

He's alone these days. Kinda? Technically, Jaiden lives with him, but he hasn't seen her since the Federation took Bobby away. He thinks that she has an apartment in the city now. Good for her, honestly. If the city makes her happy, then she should be there.

It's very quiet.

Roier's house is in the middle of the woods miles away from the nearest city. He's close to the border between the Human and Vampire Kingdoms, but he doesn't really get many visitors. And that's fine! Really! He doesn't need visitors, he has his pond, and he has his son's grave to talk to when he's lonely.

Every morning at the crack of dawn, Roier goes to the pond. He gets used to the water's temperature first, and then he flops into it face-first and sucks in enough water to make him choke. And then, once he's sputtering for air, he turns onto his back and coughs the water up and falls asleep. By mid-afternoon, he's inside and completely naked and drying his clothes out and trying not to remember what he shouldn't be. And then, in the evening, he's back in the pond just in case some polite water spirit wants to drown him, and then it's inside for bed.

This morning, though, is weird, because there's something blocking Roier's front door from the outside. After a bit of pushing and grumbling, Roier eventually manages to get the door open just to see... a man. A really attractive man: scars, facial hair, the works. A really attractive man just completely passed out and entirely unconscious on Roier's doorstep.

Roier looks at the man. He's pale- too pale to be human. And, adding in the slight point to his ears, that means that this guy? Vampire, 100-percent. So that's cool.

The sun is about to rise, so Roier decides to do his one good deed of the year, and he drags the vampire into his house. It's entirely too easy to do, the man's so light, but who's Roier to judge someone's eating habits when he's barely been making himself one meal a day since Bobby's death? Could be a similar circumstance, who knows?

Once the vampire is settled on a pile of old blankets near the stove, Roier stands up, cracks his neck, and heads outside to go wallow in the pond.

If there's one thing that Roier is besides a bad father and a brilliant chef, it's punctual.

-

It takes two days for the vampire to wake up, and Roier spends those two days in the pond floating and in the forest hunting. He thinks that vampires prefer fresh blood, but he also thinks that this guy won't care what kind of blood he gets after how long he's been passed out.

And he's right! The second the vampire is awake, he's beelining for the jug of deer blood on the table.

Roier, shirtless and drying his clothes by the fireplace after that morning's soak, hardly reacts to the poor guy guzzling down the blood like it's the first thing he's had to eat in days (mostly because it is the first thing he's had to eat in days.) He isn't naked if only for the vampire's comfort, even if it is a little uncomfortable sitting in wet clothes.

Once the vampire is full, he collapses onto a chair at the table with a groan. He leans back, throws his head back, covers his face with his hands, and groans again.

Me, too, Roier thinks.

(He and this vampire could probably be very good friends.)

"What the fuck?" the vampire moans.

Roier shrugs in response, not expecting to be noticed. Does the vampire even know he's there? Probably, vampires can hear heartbeats and stuff.

Eventually, the vampire looks at Roier through his fingers.

"Dude," is the first thing he says to Roier.

And then:

"Why are you shirtless?"

Now, Roier can't exactly say that he's trying to visit his (dead) son, so he just says, "Fell into the pond, man, what does it matter?"

And then, because he's a bit of an asshole, he teases, "What, are you shy?"

"No! I'm just confused!" the vampire quickly responds. "Like, okay. I fainted outside of your door, I guess? And then I wake up, and you're shirtless. It's just a lot, you know?"

Roier nods. "So you are shy. That's fine, I get it."

The vampire's hands fall from his face, and he looks at Roier with slight confusion, slight annoyance, all handsome.

"Where am I?" he asks.

"My house. We're, uhhh... two days' walk from the border? The nearest city is Quesadilla, that's four days' walk."

"Oh," the vampire quietly says.

He looks around the house curiously.

"And you're human?" he asks.

Roier grins. "Yep! Unless my dads have been keeping something from me, anyway."

The vampire lets out a quiet laugh. And then he winces and presses a hand to his ribs.

Roier politely turns back to the fireplace. None of his business...

"I hate to ask you this, but... can I stay here for a little while longer?" the vampire asks. He sounds pained- out of breath, very tense. "I... may have broken my ribs earlier. When I was. Mm, fuck! Out there."

It's very quiet in the woods now that Roier's son is dead and his co-parent is gone. Roier hates the quiet, but he can't really imagine anything else anymore. He doesn't want his guest asking questions when he sees Roier going outside at dawn.

But, like. He feels bad, okay? He remembers being all alone and hurt in the woods after what Spreen did to him, he knows the pain, he knows how fucking annoying it is to be running through a dark forest with a busted rib and a bleeding hole in his chest and back.

So he nods and says, "Sure, man. Stay however long you want. Just don't eat me, eh? I have people who'll miss me."

(He thinks.)

The vampire audibly rolls his eyes. "Vampires don't eat humans, but I guess I won't eat you. You don't look very tasty, anyway."

Hurt, Roier spins around to shout at him in protest with an, "Ayyy!!!", and thus begins what he's sure will be only the first of many arguments.

-

The vampire's name is Cellbit, and he doesn't ask questions. He sleeps for most of the day and spends his nights in the back garden tending to some wildflowers he's decided to cultivate or inside reading.

On his second day awake, he'd told Roier where he had hidden his bag before passing out, and he'd sent Roier to get it. Roier still doesn't know all of what's inside, but he does know that it's one of those special bags that are bigger on the inside, and that Cellbit has a couple of extra sets of clothes and a lot of books in it. He also has a couple of 'blood supplement pills' that are supposed to make him less hungry, but he says those are for emergencies because "they taste like shit".

Cellbit doesn't say anything about his personal life, and he doesn't explain why he ended up hiding his bag and passing out in the middle of the woods so close to the Vampire Kingdom's border with what has turned out to be several broken ribs and a broken fang and a sprained ankle and a black eye, but that's fine. Roier doesn't need to know, just like how Cellbit doesn't need to know all of Roier's baggage.

For Cellbit's sake, Roier doesn't strip naked in the afternoons when he's drying his clothes. Nah, he changes clothes and lets his wet ones dry outside in the sun. And then he lays outside and dries in the sun, and it's almost as relaxing as laying in the pond is.

It's still quiet, but there's a nice buzz in the background all day that almost reminds Roier of when times were better and his son wasn't dead.

Almost.

-

Just after sunset, Cellbit comes outside to water his flowers.

He lets out a pained breath as he kneels down next to them with his makeshift watering can: an old bowl with a hole cut in it, and an even older cup with holes punched to it stuck onto the side of the bowl.

Roier floats.

"You know," he says, "I can go into the city and get you some actual seeds if you're planning on sticking around."

"I thought you said the city was four days away?"

"Yeah, but it's not like I have anything else to do."

(It would give him an excuse to see Jaiden again.)

"Well. I don't need seeds. I like wildflowers for a reason. They get to just... be. No human intervention." A pause. "Or, well, vampire intervention."

Mmm, that sounds like a metaphor for something.

Cellbit waters his flowers. They're pink little things: ruffly like a skirt with white stripes and big, broad leaves. They're pretty, definitely something Tilín would have liked.

Roier's head bumps against the rocky wall of the pond. He grumbles and uses his hand to push himself back towards the pond's center where it's deepest.

"It's nice out here," Cellbit says. "Maybe I'll build a house here. We can be neighbors!"

Roier smiles at the thought. He moved out here with Jaiden and Bobby to get away from the city and all the bastards in it, but he wouldn't mind some company. He likes Cellbit, he thinks. Definitely neighbor-worthy.

...Though the house will be just that little bit quieter.

Maybe he and Cellbit can have their meals together. Or something.

Cellbit grunts as he stands, and then he hobbles over to the pond and sits down. He pulls his socks and shoes off and puts them next to him, he rolls his pants up to his knees, and then he sticks his feet in the water.

Roier gasps, "What, for free?"

He cackles as Cellbit kicks a wave of annoyed water at him. Some water gets in his mouth, but that's fine. Nothing he isn't used to.

-

Roier goes hunting twice a week so Cellbit has blood to eat. Drink? Feed from? Whatever.

He used to hunt more before he moved into the woods with his family. He and Spreen and Missa and Quackity and Mariana would all go out together to the outskirts of the city and see who could bag the biggest deer or the most rabbits, and it was awesome! Spreen always won, but that was just how it was.

Spreen always won.

Every time Roier carves the heart out of a deer and drains its blood, he pretends that it's Spreen's body beneath him. Spreen's final breaths- panicked and pained and pathetic. Spreen's heart- ugly. Spreen's hand holding his and Spreen's voice begging him to stop and Spreen's voice apologizing but not meaning it, never fucking meaning it, because he went too far and he didn't fucking care and-

And then Roier fills a jug with blood and brings it back to the house. Cellbit only needs to feed once a week, supposedly, but Roier likes having extra blood in the house just in case.

Cellbit seems to appreciate the thought, at least. He always brightens when Roier walks into the house with a fresh jug of blood, and he always tries helping Roier go hunting even though he can barely walk on his fucked-up ankle.

He's sweet. Roier almost doesn't want him to go, but he's going to, eventually.

They always do.

-

Roier needs to go into the city to stock up on medicines for the winter, and he tells Cellbit this and asks if Cellbit needs him to stock up on extra blood before he goes.

"I can just go with you," Cellbit replies. He rolls his ankle around in a small circle. "I'm feeling much better, and I want to get some actual gardening stuff."

'And I'll be lonely without you', Roier knows Cellbit's heart is saying, because his own is saying it, too.

...So maybe they're a little codependent already. But it's been almost two full months of them living together, and they're both two very attractive men, and they're both more than a little lonely.

Roier shrugs and agrees, and that's that.

Four days later, they're in Quesadilla, and Roier is at the pharmacy loading a basket full of everything he thinks he might need for the winter. He gets sick easily, and he gets sick often, and he does not want to die alone in a cabin in the woods during his first winter by himself. That would be embarrassing.

Cellbit is at the garden supplies shop down the road, so Roier is by himself as he waits in line to pay. And, because he's a nosy bitch, he listens as the women waiting in line in front of him gossip.

"It's been two months," one says, "he's definitely dead."

The other rolls her eyes. "Vampires can't die, idiot. He's probably just stuck in a dungeon somewhere."

"No, but he should be dead after what he's done," the first woman sniffs. "I hope the Federation dealt with him properly."

Roier stifles a wince at the mention of the Federation; ugh, he hates those guys!

"I don't know," the second woman sighs, "he is a prince. Are they even allowed to arrest princes?"

"See, this is why I'm glad the Human Kingdom has a council and a king. The Federation can arrest anybody breaking the law, and it'll be fine!"

"Well, at least he wasn't the heir to the throne. The Vampire Princess seems like a much more decent person."

"I mean, if our standards for 'decent' are if they're literally evil, then, sure, she's decent. Better than, uh... what did he do again?"

The second woman looks to the first in confusion. "I thought you knew?"

"I thought you did!"

Ignoring their arguing, Roier sneaks around them to cut in line and pay. Whoever they're talking about, Roier likes him. Anybody Cucurucho hates is a friend of Roier's!

-

Jaiden fills him in via a letter that arrives shortly after Roier and Cellbit return to the house. Roier reads it, and he tries not to look at Cellbit as he does so.

'So here's what I've heard,' the letter says. 'The Federation was interested in opening a branch in the Vampire Kingdom's capital city, and the king and queen were kind of into it. Their kids aren't, though. Princess Bagi wants to establish a more settled list of regulations- which Cucurucho is not into, by the way- and Prince Cellbit has been flat-out just arguing with Cucurucho and the other employees up there.

'But here's the thing, Prince Cellbit hasn't actually been seen in months! Cucurucho says that he's being 'dealt with' by his parents, but everybody knows that he's probably actually dead. It sucks for him, but I don't think he should've argued in the first place. I mean, the Federation does good work. If he hates it so much as to kill workers like everybody thinks he's been doing, then maybe he should be dealt with. Not by being killed, obviously, but maybe prison isn't too crazy. Hopefully that's where he ended up.

'Thanks for visiting, by the way. I missed you. I'll try and visit you before the first snow falls. I want to see Bobby one last time before the Solstice.'

Roier tosses the letter into the fire as soon as he's finished reading it.

-

By the time the first snow falls, Cellbit is fine. His ankle is better, his ribs are better, his eye is better. His fang is absolutely fucked, but he doesn't really need it if Roier is filling jars for him.

The pond, unfortunately, is frozen over. Roier sits by it the way he used to with Bobby back when they'd lace up their skates and get ready to go out onto the ice.

After a couple of minutes of dusk, Cellbit comes out to join him with a small smile. Their arms press into each other, and Roier fights the urge to rest his head on Cellbit's shoulder.

"This is my first winter away from home," Cellbit tells him.

"This is my first winter by myself," Roier tells him.

Cellbit looks mildly offended.

Roier smiles at him and gently nudges his side.

"By myself with you, gatinho," he teases. "How could I forget you?"

Cellbit looks positively regal in the snow. The way it settles in his hair looks like lace, his eyes are already as blue as ice. All he needs is a silvery crown, and he could be the Winter King from all the stories Roier heard when he was a kid.

He rolls his eyes and nudges Roier back.

Roier nudges him again.

Cellbit nudges him again, slightly harder.

Roier nudges him with his hands, pushing him over and into the snow.

Moments later, he's being tackled into the snow by a very chilly vampire. He's absolutely freezing, but his face is still very warm as Cellbit pins him down and looks into his eyes with a smile as wide as his handsome face.

Slowly, Cellbit leans his head down. At the same time, Roier props himself up on his elbows, raising his head to meet him. He moves on instinct, heart pounding, eyes fluttering shut.

Chapped lips brush against his, and Roier feels warm aaaalll over.

-

On the day of the Solstice, Roier visits Bobby's grave with a book. Every year, he and Jaiden and Bobby would snuggle together in Bobby's bed and read A Solstice Song to him; he never got into the Solstice spirit, but he loved the ghosts.

Roier clears the snow off of the bench by Bobby's tombstone. He sits, opens the book, and reads.

Hours later when he's finished, he's crawling into bed shivering and crying. He doesn't look at Cellbit, he doesn't do anything except shed his coat and hat and gloves and shoes and drop the book to the floor and get into bed.

A few very hesitant moments later, Cellbit joins him. He stay sitting up, though one of his hands finds its way into Roier's hair.

"'Fred was dead to begin with'," Cellbit reads, "'There is no doubt whatever about that. The register of his burial was signed by the clergyman, the clerk,the undertaker, and the chief mourner. Elena signed it. And Elena’s name was good upon ’Change, for anything she chose to put her hand to.'"

Roier turns to hide his face in Cellbit's side, and he cries.

-

Spring comes, and Roier drains the pond to clean it.

It's as he's knee-deep in mud and dead leaves as the sun sets, and that's when Cellbit comes outside with a guilty look on his face.

"I haven't been totally honest with you," he says.

Roier sighs and sticks his shovel down into the much and leans against it.

"Is this about the Vampire Prince stuff?" he asks. "Because I don't care about any of that. You're my gatinho, and that's all that matters."

Cellbit's entire body freezes. He seems to think for a long, long moment before his shoulders start loosening.

"Oh," he says. He's smart, but he's also stupid. He didn't even give Roier a fake name, gods.

Roier takes pity on him and blows him a kiss that Cellbit gladly catches and pulls to his unbeating heart.

"I don't care what you did," Roier gently says. "I don't care what people say you did. I don't care if you're the prince or some homeless guy I took pity on, you're my Cellbit. As long as you don't hurt me, I don't care."

Cellbit's eyes widen immediately in panic. "What? No, never! I'd never hurt you! I'd hurt for you, but never you. Never."

Roier smiles at him. "See? Problem solved. Now, get a shovel, we need this cleaned and refilled before mid-spring."

Cellbit wrinkles his nose at the mess, but he goes to get his gardening shovel from the shed that he and Roier built.

"Why?" he asks. "What's in mid-spring?"

Roier swallows and looks up at the still-setting sun.

"Bobby's birthday," he answers.

He waves to the setting sun. Goodnight, sweet prince.

[greythemed]

𓂃 ♥︎ⴰ bloodhounds . kim gun-woo

˚ TITLE 𓂃 ♥︎ⴰ lovesick ˚ WORD COUNT 𓂃 ♥︎ⴰ 1936

he looked unreal, all tanned with his beautiful eyes half closed as he looked down, full lips unconsciously forming a pout. his chest was bronzed and openly displayed for anyone with two eyes and a drooling mouth.

you wanted to eat him alive.

it was supposed to be a peaceful morning at your parents' beach house on the coast but, apparently, your boyfriend chose violence that day. with sleepy eyes and a drowsy appearance, you immediately realized that you accidentally fell asleep while trying to get tanned by the summer sun in the morning. luckily, the book you were reading fell from your grip at some point and didn't leave a funny mark on your stomach for woo-jin to laugh about later.

how can one person be so beautiful, inside and out? was he even real, or will you inevitably wake up to find the space beside you empty, his presence fading with your dreams?

you get goosebumps just imagining it.

feeling your eyes on him, gun-woo looked up from his drawing, a big smile forming on his pink lips.

"you look like shit, babe".

oh wow, what a day to feel loved.

"fuck off". you grumbled while sitting up and picking the book from the floor next to you, gun-woo's eyes never leaving your bikini form. "what took you so long to get here?". you asked him pouty.

"your mother asked me to move the sofa three times so she could do her pilates session in the living room". gun-woo couldn't help but laugh at his answer, never imagining he'd be in this position someday.

it was your first family trip as a couple, and also the first time gun-woo went on a plane and traveled since his school's excursion in 9th grade to say the best. you were happy to see him happy. it was thrilling to see the man in another setting, different from the usual gym clothes or café outings you guys first got to know each other. you considered yourself a good girlfriend, providing these opportunities for both of you while so young, even if gun-woo was paying for basically everything other than the house you were staying. you were a good girlfriend, right?

so why the living hell was he acting so mean towards you?

"i'm sorry about that". you grimaced embarrassingly because of your mother. "just because you have an insane amount of muscle she thinks you're her personal guard". gun-woo laughs. that bright innocent smile that makes his eyes disappear.

fuck you kim geun-woo for being so mean.

"my mom used to say we should never neglect help from others, including offering help in the first place". he tells you with innocence, a sudden wave of sympathy running through his veins strong enough to make him vocalize his thoughts. you were too accustomed with this side of him, being together for almost 6 months. “she also used to say that we always must look for the best in people”.

he was too pure. so why could you only think other things like what was this man saying? and why wasn't he kissing your mouth right now?

you embarrassingly found yourself in this predicament more times than you could count with your boyfriend.

the sound of his voice didn't shake you out of your sleepy daze, looking up at him with eyes full of love and wonder. like a lovesick puppy whose brain didn't seem to register the spoken words, too caught up in its own reverie.

when he didn't get the reply he was hoping for, gun-woo finally put down the pen and paper and leaned closer to you, your knees now touching and you almost choked on your saliva.

you loved him too much. and he was so hot.

“y/n?” he asked softly, placing a hand on top of your lap, the feel of his surprisingly cold hands against your warm skin almost making you shiver.

"i was so worried when i woke up and didn't see you, figured you'd be reading here". his smile continued to be nothing other than soothing, comforting, and exclusive.

exclusive for you and only you.

"woo-jin tried facetiming early this morning but i was still sleeping, i kind of feel bad for him not being able to come this time". he rambles. "and i also feel bad for sleeping so late, i hope your parents don't mind it. yesterday was a good day".

of course it was a good day. it was gun-woo's first ever private flight and you couldn't put your mind around the fact that this man's whole life was a huge unfair exposure to only the bad in life. you wanted to cry suddenly. cry for everything cruel that happened to him. cry for his still pure but poorly scarred heart. cry for his smiles and goodmorning pecks. cry for his fucking six-pack and spy reflexes.

cry because he was yours. exclusively.

without saying a word, you gently pulled his hands away before wrapping yours around his shoulders in a much-needed hug, the love you felt for him overwhelming all your senses. his arms found their place around your waist immediately, pulling his body closer and pouring all his love into you in return.

it was his fault for dating such a crybaby and he knew it, because the second he touched your waist and ribs, the boxer knew you were about to cry because of your uneaving breathing.

gun-woo hesitated for a second, giving your body another squeeze before finally speaking.

"are you okay, princess?" his voice was calm as he gently stroked your hair, knowing damn well you got emotional in the mornings sometimes. his 'bedroom voice' - that's what you called, don't judge - was enough to make your eyes sting, causing you to snuggle closer to his neck with a nod.

"'m okay".

you loved his bedroom voice - again, don’t judge the name you came up with -, it was special for you. it held something ethereal in the fact that he dropped a few octaves to talk to you and only you. the intimacy he could bring only by speaking more calmly to you, everywhere you both were together and tangled in each other's arms like right now.

everything was different. the setting, the weather, the clothes - it made you realize for the very first time in the six months of your relationship that dating itself shouldn't be overwhelming, tiring, or burdensome.

dating should feel like the books you grew up reading and the movies you grew up watching. anything other than that, it didn't belong to you in the first place.

you felt so comfortable in his embrace like you were floating on a fluffy cloud as the sun was slowly disappearing, so warm and safe. it was just the best, being with the man you loved, and nothing could come close to how you were feeling in his presence, surrounded by his unconditional love and care.

fuck, you were sounding like a corny teenager and it was embarrassing.

"y/n, you're going to tell me what's on your mind, aren't you?". the sound of his concern was evident in his voice, reminding you that - even if this man's thighs were the size of your head -, he still was worried and soft on the inside type of boyfriend.

you were his first girlfriend. gun-woo didn't know how to do things usually.

without missing a beat, you looked him in the eye for the question.

"i love you, gunwoo-ya". you started to pour your eyes out for no reason. you blamed the hormones, your mom would blame the weather and woo-jin would blame the books you read but you didn't care.

the corners of his mouth turned up in response, a soft, sincere smile stretching across his face because he was also just that: a lovesick puppy.

"i love you too". gun-woo wasn't expecting that, you could tell. he was too nonchalant for his own good sometimes.

like who the fuck wears pink bright shorts at his parents-in-law’s beach house? WITH NO SHIRT ON.

his eyes were full of love as he looked at you, the sun making the already beautiful landscape even more dazzling as time seemed to stop once more, everything but him disappearing at that moment. not being able to wait any longer, gun-woo then leaned his head up, pouty lips brushing yours teasingly for a moment before connecting in a proper kiss.

his touch was soft and tender, brushing against your mouth as he had so many times before, your tongue darting out to meet his briefly as his arms around your waist pulled you even closer. the sudden change in height since you got up from the bench was a different angle for both of you.

a silent moan escaped your lips as your barely clothed breast brushed against his, giving your boyfriend the perfect opportunity to slip his tongue properly inside your mouth for another taste.

his hands squeezed your sides lightly, applying just the right amount of pressure to feel good, and just as you were about to pull him even closer to deepen the kiss, he slowly pulled back, making you want his lips more.

a smile appeared on his face at that, the smugness behind it pouting in response. you straddled him so your faces were on the same level and suddenly the boxer went exe.error404

"jagi, your mom-". he spoke, his hot breath hitting your face with each exhale. you smirked at him.

he was so mean.

"how can you act innocent right after sucking my mouth dry a second ago, you monster?".

"but-". oh no. his cheeks were red, wide eyes searching for one of your parents to pop up from nowhere suddenly, hands finding no safe spot to grip at your sides, finally opting to put them in your waist, almost engulfing its whole circumference because of the size of his hands.

when a few moments passed and you still remained in the same state, he finally relented and sealed your lips once more in a quick kiss, one of his hands moving up from your waist to gently caress your swollen lower lip afterward.

“is that what you've been thinking about all this time, baby?". he asked embarrassingly, eyes avoiding your brown ones for all that was worth.

you nodded, your eyes roaming all over his face before reaching out to move some of the hair away from his eyes, gathering his attention.

"sorry, but yes". you pouted, a small smile starting to appear on the boxer's mouth. you could tell he was embarrassed to hear you confess he occupies your mind 24/7 as if he didn’t know that yet. "and that you are so irritably sexy".

not even one second after, gun-woo's hand is covering your mouth with his eyes wide open and a laugh escapes your lips. he instantly mouths for you to be careful.

"i didn't even say anything wrong!". you defend, automatically tracing his scar on the right side of his face like you are already used to, brushing his hair at the end.

"you want sexy time, i know you!". he whisper-shouts, now completely avoiding your gaze. you laughed.

"sorry". you were not. "it's not my fault you're wearing pink shorts! you can't do this to me, you're mean!". you whined on his lap.

"you were crying seconds ago, what happened?!". it was his turn to pout, looking genuinely confused at your change of emotions. "woojin-hyung said you were crazy when you guys first met".

"that old f-". gun-woo covered your mouth again, warning you. "he's lucky he didn't make it here".

this one is for my crybaby girlies i got you don't worry, gun-woo is here to wipe your tears and fuck your brains out - in a loving way. loved imagining beach!gunwoo a little too much.

[surfinminho]

》 things that turn skz on

warnings: bladder control(no actual piss), graphoerotica, free use, a little bit of 24/7 dynamic, gun play, knife play, blood play, feminization, taking turns, double penetration, anal, phallic gags, asphyxiation, sex while unconscious(consensual), bulge kinks

male reader/gender neutral reader at some points

-chan

Sometimes chan feels like he can give people more, yk? Maybe he let's people use him as they please. Tie him to a chair and put a cock ring on his shaft and fuck him in his ass and mouth and not let him cum or you and multiple members can take turns milking him of all he's got. Both options sound just fine to him, he's giving more to them!

-minho

Why do you have a gun? Who knows, but since minho found out he's been fantasizing about you fucking him with it pressed against his head. Maybe it's loaded maybe it's not. Tell him if he makes a sound you won't hesitate to blow his brains out. does that shut him up? Maybe. Let's also say he thought about you actually using the gun to fuck him.

-changbin

Dressing up changbin in such frilly, pink outfits really arouses you. I mean he's such a buff guy with thick thighs. Putting him in a skirt with thigh highs and some makeup can set both you and him off. But when you guys started including a knife into the bedroom you honestly never stopped. You'd cut off the clothes off him with the knife. Ofcourse you'd never cut him right? Wrong. One time you accidentally cut his thigh while trying to cut the stockings he had. You tried to profusely apologize but before you even could he let's out the loudest moan you ever heard from him. Ever since you would cut him only if he deserved it though! Maybe he jerked off without permission and you cut so close to his cock it might've mad him cum.

-hyunjin

Thoughts of free use can really get this man going. When you come home stressed or too energetic and you need a release, hyunjin is right there to serve you :D. Maybe him eating you out for hours or you fucking his face, and when your done you simply leave the room. It's not your business if he doesn't release right? Out of sex too, maybe a 24/7 dynamic. he's only made to serve you. You make all the decisions and he just follows around like a brain dead puppy.

-jisung

Hear me out, teasing him in bed or maybe in the middle of you guys having sex he says he has to pee. Press down on his stomach but oh if he wets himself, he can't cum. Eventually you let him go though, but wheres the fun in letting him off so easily? Obviously he doesn't want to wet himself. But the thrill of it all makes him want too. He's begging for you to let him go, tears brimming his eyes.Maybe right when he's about to cum you let him go.

-felix

Felix knows he's small. He's roughly 5'7 but he has a small waist. Maybe use a dildo that's big- like bigger than you big. And you fuck him with it. The imprint on his stomach can make him bust immediately. But what if you stretch him out? You know you and the dildo at once? Can he take it? Probably. He's a whore for cock ofcourse. Maybe use a phallic gag on him to make him feel full in all holes.

-seungmin

The thrill of his partner choking him already makes him feel dizzy. But choking him until he passes is just :)). When he first brung up choking to you, initially you were scared of hurting him. But when you saw how good it made  him feel you guys kept doing it. Maybe putting him into a headlock once in a while too. But when he asked if you guys can look into choking him unconscious you were immediately down. Fucking him unconscious? Hell yea.

When it happened for the first time, you might've had the best orgasm of your life. And if it was vice versa? Seungmin would love to ride you while you're unconscious.

-jeongin

Having his partner write all over him and make him read it out to himself (if he can see it). Writing "clit" above his cock or "cumdump" on his face while jerking him off or fucking him will make him black out 100%. After maybe take a picture and send it to another member, humiliating him for his elders to see. or maybe make him walk around with it under his clothes and Oops! it shows by accident

[yandere-sins]

After reading your yan! Ghost & König (both amazing btw!) I was thinking, what if there was a new soldier who decided to mess with their darling w/o knowing about the yandere OR they get warned by others and still do it anyway

Thanks for requesting! ♥

Warning: Yandere, Sexual Content, Violence

»»———————— ♡ ————————««   

Ghost

♡ Against anyone's expectations, Ghost does barely anything to put the soldier in his place at first. He laughs when he's told the news, knowing better than anyone it doesn't matter. See, he has long worn you down. You are not as stupid as to engage with some random kid that tries to get close to you (aware or not who you belong to). Still, when he sees you uncomfortably trying to shimmy your way out of a conversation, Ghost will take pity on his beloved, walking up between you two and leading you out of the situation, wrapping his arm around you and throwing a mocking glance over his shoulder at the newbie who he never even spoke a word to. It's nothing to get angry about. Alas, he finds it a bit funny knowing how you walked away with Ghost without any hesitations, almost as if you had been waiting for him. Makes him mighty proud of his darlin'.

♡ However, if he finds out that the soldier did it on purpose, Ghost might initiate some revenge on the poor lad, asking the quartermaster to change his bed with the guy that is bunking next to the newby so he can give that kid a show of what he'll never have. It's a tiny space and much too open for the privacy Simon normally wants. But having you kneel before him like he's your god, making you choke on his dick and forcing you to take it all before fucking you right next to the person who wanted a chance with you, having you scream and moan for Ghost as he asks you who you belong to, is just such a delicious revenge. One that the soldier will never forget, especially not when Ghost throws you on top of him and fuck you from behind while the soldier lies there horrified by the sight (and hard as fuck) while you get pounded silly by Ghost. It should be enough to make him back off, especially when Ghost shows off his cum dripping from you as he lifts you into his arms, your legs wrapping around him just like he taught you to, telling that newbie to respect his elders next time and control his hands if he wants to keep them.

König

♡ Well, that's a problem if he ever saw one. As someone who's anxious himself, König can imagine how uncomfortable the advances of someone you don't know are. He got alerted to the trouble and, frankly, is pissed it didn't resolve itself by the time he got to you. There's a reason he keeps you at base—to keep you safe. No one gets to go to his little room and think they can chat you up and risk this safety he made sure of. Except... König didn't expect you to not be uncomfortable. You almost seem eager, a small smile on your lips as you finally get to converse with someone other than him (secretly, as you thought), and it makes him even angrier. He was ready to scare away the unwanted suitor, but the only person scared is you as you stare at his towering form standing behind your new acquaintance, his eyes full of murderous intent.

♡ There's a loud crash and a squeal, but all that is left behind of the commotion is a bloody trail leading to König's room. König shows no mercy as he drags the wounded soldier over the floor and into the privacy of his quarters by the leg, having just thrown him against a few crates to the point of the new guy falling unconscious. You don't make a sound, only step aside with your head hanging low, unable to keep yourself from trembling at the sudden outburst. König will tie the poor guy to a chair before directing his attention to you, taking off his gloves to cup your face and pull you close to him, forcing you to meet his gaze. "Are you okay?" he asks, eyes roaming your body as if it had been you who got beaten up, but when you nod your head, König nuzzles you through his mask, whispering a tender warning to never speak with someone other than him again, it is way too dangerous, before picking you up and placing you in his lap as you two wait for the soldier to wake up so König can give him a few reminders with his fist—the same hand that gently rubs your back and holds you in his embrace—to stay the fuck away from you.

[shotokimchi]

When Their S/O Is a Seggs God

MINORS DNI

How would they react if their cute lover was like a succubus in bed LMAO Going through some hard stuff so wanted to drop this here to laugh a little JSDFHSDK-

A/N:Sorry for being inactive y'all i swear I'm not ignoring the requests, just preparing for an important exam this year, but I'll be back around Julyyyy

Little side note: Characters are aged up so don't come at me smh

part2 w/Dabi and Midoriya

Bakugo

So we all know that this man doesn't sleep around randomly. My guy dates the "one" for him he's planning to marry you so if you aren't planning about settling down...

Too bad for you missy (Lemme see your ring finger bitch you gonna get wifed up💍)

After taking you out to meet his parents, this chili oil literally falls in love with you (i mean he already did but when he saw how you treated his momma and papa- boy was CHOKING ON HIS HEART❤️) so he decides to take your relationship to the next level.

Needs and excuse to leave early so literally tells his parents that he has a bad case of diarrhea ( Do ya'll know that video LMAO) and drags you out to his car

Lemme tell you he ran over at least 5 red lights just to have sex with you-

And you are just confused about why he's suddenly acting like a rabid dog i mean he's always acting like one but this time-

"Suki, why is your mouth foaming?"

On the way to your apartment, you had an inner conflict about actually taking him to a vet, you aint planning on telling him that tho.

After finally throwing you onto the shared bed like a sack of flour mf flies for a second in the air like a bloodthirsty mosquito- (the only difference is he's thirsty for the ✨All-mighty pussy juice✨)

Dw tho man asks for your consent because he loves you a lot and doesn't want your first time to be scary and all-

Wait did i say first time?

YES MF THINKS YOU'RE A VIRGIN- but guess what he's about to find out...

Before he can start kissing you, you push him onto his back and rip off his pants and leave a small peck on his lips before riding him like you are in a horse race- Good news gurl you are about to win, no one can compare

Poor man is speechless bc you are literally singing on his dick like you are the headliner in a choir...

And while you are singing you are rhythmically bouncing too LMAO

IM👏GONNA👏PUMP👏EVERY👏SINGLE👏DROP👏OUT👏OF👏YOU

He aint scared no he just swallowed his tongue by accident- cuz you know...

HIS GIRL IS LITERALLY DOING THE DUCK WALK ON HIS DICK (🦆🦆🦆)

WALK THAT FUCKING DUCK Y/N QUACK QUACK QUACK

He decides to grab your hips to slow you down a little bc you are causing an earthquake with a magnitude of 6.9

but instead of slowing you down now you are making him jump on the bed with you too LMAOAOAOAOAO- imagine someone breaking in and seeing two floating figures on the bed

He's like "SLOW DOWN Y/N-"

But nuh uh you are too caught up in your own horny world so you continue to milk him (Fr tho calm down queen aren't those legs tired?🦵)

After cumming for the 5th time he tapped out LMAO-

You gave him a concussion bc of making him bounce for too long KSJFHJSDKFGSDKJHSD- POOR KATSUKI

He was laying there, unconscious with drool dripping down his mouth and it took you three full minutes to realise that he passed out (OMG I'm gone-)

Fly high Katsuki Bakugo 🕊️🕊️

Dw tho you made sure to pamper him the morning after, bringing him a breakfast tray filled with pancakes and a cup of coffee. A cute innocent smile plastered on your face

"Morning, baby!"

Needless to say, he was shocked ( pretty sure he thinks it was the hottest night ever but doesn't wanna hurt his own pride by telling you that)

"WHAT HAPPENED-"

Todoroki

BAHAHAHA OMG OK LISTEN-

So both of you are lovebirds obv because Todoroki would be the most caring boyfriend ever (i'll fight you about this one 🥊🥊🥊) so its impossible not to be in love with him

So pretty baby thinks it's going to be all about kisses, vanilla, sweet loving, him showing how much he cares about you etc.

AND HE IS A VIRGIN

Todoroki being a virgin is such a turn on he trusts you enough to give his first time to you (aw❤️🤍)

...but you didnt know that he was a virgin

I mean come on look at him how can he be a virgin while looking THAT PRETTY

So one time, while you guys were chilling on the couch watching Titanic and snacking on some strawberries together he decides to make the first move and gently holds your hand while whispering sweet things to your ear and then you hear the magical word (open sesame zimzalabim this coochie 🔮)

"Y/n, I wanna do it."

BIG MISTAKE SHOTO VERY BIG- So being the horny queen you are the wicked horny grin makes its way to your lips and baby is concerned Before he can say anything you immediately grab a strawberry and stuff it into his mouth and quickly try to get him off of his sweatpants

Then you work your magic on him by giving him the best and first head of his life ✨ and trust me he is enjoying it very much

Mmmm yes that famous glock glock 60000 GOBBLE UP BABES don't let em Santa Claus looking pubic hair get into your nose tho🎅

Pretty moans were filling the living room while his fingers lock with yours

But the baby was too lost in his own pleasure so he accidentally bit the strawberry and took it out of his mouth

But you noticed so you grabbed a new one and harshly shoved it into his mouth

"Dont. swallow. the. strawberry."

Babies eyes went wide

YOU SCARED HIM

AND IT WAS HIS FIRST TIME TOO

he %100 looked like this-

So now he was drowning in his own pool of saliva trying not to bite into the strawberry while his eyes were rolling at the back of his head (bc of your amazing tongue skills)

Spot the difference between your mouth and a vacuum cleaner

NONE

When i tell you, you were sucking him DRY

like the next Todoroki generation got to the point of extinction

at this point he was trying to pry you off of his dick bc the overstimulation was TOO much lolol

Poor baby accidentally covered the couch with small burns

when you lifted your head to check up on him you were met with a sobbing Shoto

BOY WAS GASPING

Literally thought of bringing him an oxygen tank but decided against it bc he calmed down after receiving your loving kisses You layed his head on your chest while combing through his locks with your fingers, you made sure to give him a great aftercare

"Are first times are this rough?"

You choked on Casper the ghosts dick

"WHAT-" Literally mourned for two hours bc of treating him so roughly LMAO

A/N: I'm done- sorry for the typos if i have any, i was too lazy to edit :p

[fizzigigsimmer]

This is my contribution to the Harringrove Relay Race

There's no following @bigdumbbambieyes but take this humble offering.

The Best You (Never) Had

written for @harringrove-relay-race

Rating: M

Pairing: Steve x Billy with a heavy dose of angst.

I was charmed and instantly driven insane by the absolutely bomb Harringrove playboy bunnies drawn by @adelacreations, and it inspired me to wonder about a trans femme Billy, running into her past at a strip club.

Enjoy the adventures of Bunny Hargrove.

And stay on the look out for what @robthegoodfellow has coming up!

When Billie left Hawkins she hadn’t looked to her future and seen herself working at a strip club. She certainly hadn’t foreseen the possibility of having to serve her high-school bully cheap food and lousy drinks in one once she’d made it back to Cali. But that’s exactly what seems to be in store for her – fuck her life.  

Five men occupy the half moon booth and table reserved mostly for bachelor parties and the occasional VIP. Billie’s coworker Amanda has been serving them food and drinks while they enjoy the sets of dancers on stage, but her wait shift is ending and Billie’s prepping to take over – tuning out the other woman as she complains about one of the men grabbing at her ass and being a poor tipper. 

It seems impossible, but somehow it’s happening. Steve Harrington is sitting right there, watching Lacey wiggle her ass in red spandex to a Katy Perry song.   

It’s been going on fifteen years, but Billie would recognize him anywhere. Same slouch to the shoulders and dreamy eyed stare – neither Lacey’s wild gyrations nor the conversation of the group he’s with enough to hold his full attention. Same stupid hair, although he’s changed the shape since high school. Now it’s held securely to one side by too much gel, and she just wants to break it up with her fingers. His laugh still doesn’t reach his eyes, and it probably says a lot about Billie, that some part of her is relieved to see that.  

Her rent might be too high, her boss might be a creep, and her ex is still full of shit, but Steve Harrington is still hanging around with guys like Tommy and faking a smile, so it balances the scales. 

He’s still gorgeous too, fuck him. Billie swallows and forces herself to look away, and not run away like the frantic beating of her heart suggests that she should. She’s got nothing to hide, and she’s not ashamed.  

There’s no reason at all she shouldn’t saunter right over to the table with the bachelor party Amanda was gracious enough to split with her (knowing all about her rent worries) and flirt her way to another month of financial security; except for the fact that even in this day and age, certain people still get funny about people like her and Billie knows these guys. 

Or rather, they knew her before – before she got out of Neil’s house, before freedom, before Billie. 

There’s no reason at all she shouldn’t go over there and take that table full of drunk losers, eager to blow their cash on the club's cheap booze and dancing girls, for all that they’re worth. Nothing besides fear. 

Fuck that. 

The group is laughing loudly about something as Billie saunters up, one last swarm of butterflies taking flight in her belly as Hagen turns his neck to squint blearily at her.  

God, that stupid smirk hasn’t changed a bit – wide and dopey like the dog he is, and mean in the eyes.  Those beetle browns look her over just like they did on her first day in Hawkins, assessing for strengths and weaknesses to exploit; and for a moment she remembers the terror of being under that gaze and all the others like it. The fear of being caught out consuming her, choking her, day after day. 

Sorry kid. Billie thinks to herself with a sway of her hips, right before parking herself up against the arm of the leather couch, warm skin brushing the sleeve on Tommy’s shoulder. The way that his lips part unconsciously as he gawks at her doesn’t make up for the past, but it still feels damn good. She’s a bad bitch and she knows it. Knew it back then but now she can show it and will kick ass if Tommy or any of his buddies decide they have a problem with it. 

But it’s not recognition of any kind on any of their faces, it’s lust. They leer at the shiny shorts that hug her thighs and the plunging neckline of her tiny top – her employer's idea of a uniform. Whatever vindication she feels on behalf of her pitiful high school self, she doesn’t actually care anymore what Tommy and the clones think. 

Billie finds her eyes going to Steve like they’re magnetized.  

She shouldn’t care what Harrington thinks either, and yet, there’s a stupid flutter in her chest (damn it) when Steve looks her over, eyes lingering just a hair too long on her chest to be anything other than interested, before he meets her eye. 

“Hey beautiful.” He leans forward a little, totally present now like he wasn’t before dripping charm he obviously learned in some board room working for daddy. And yet, there’s still some part of Billie that expects to wake up in bed back in the house on Cherry Street.  

“What’s your name?” Steve Harrington is definitely asking, her, like it’s just a pre-courser to getting her naked, and Billie shivers. Fuck is she doing this? 

“Hi Bambi, I’m Bunny.” She teases. Sees the line in the sand and walks right over it. Tommy howls like some chick likening his buddy to a baby deer is the most hilarious shit, and it sets the others off, oohing and ahhing and generally acting like fools as they rib Harrington. 

But Steve ignores them, and the way he jolts a little when he hears that name, eyes narrowing on her in wary confusion, goes straight to her clit. Shit. One of these days her hard on for danger is gonna get her killed. But today it’s got her heart thumping and her pussy dripping as she clenches around nothing, like he’s already sliding inside where she obviously still wants him. She needs better taste in men. She’s sure her mama would have said she gets her poor taste from her if she’d stuck around long enough while Billie was growing up. 

“I’m a sucker for big pretty brown eyes.” She winks at him, sugar sweet and he seems to settle a little. “Can I get you another round of drinks, or are you in the mood for something better?” 

“Bunny.” He ignores the question to turn her show name over on his tongue, slow and curious like he’s tasting it. “Are you on tonight?” He asks, gaze twitching toward the stage and back. 

“You calling me a stripper Bambi?” 

“It is a strip club, and with a name like Bunny.” 

Billie laughs and Steve’s mouth slides into a satisfied smirk, like that was always the end goal. Tommy rolls his eyes and pouts like an overgrown toddler, “Didn’t you date a chick named Trixie?” 

“Yeah. So?” Steve drawls in reply, his focus momentarily shifting from Billie and back to Tommy, which if Billie’s memory serves, is exactly how Tommy likes it. 

This is a bad idea. Such a bad idea. God, Hagen really hasn’t changed, but neither has Steve. Those dry little dig and the arch of his eyebrows are so familiar she feels a strange sort of relief. Like there was something inside her that had been counting down since the last time she saw him, afraid that he’d change and become lost to memory. 

Fuck. That sounds – it’s not, what it sounds. 

“So, you can’t tell a stripper by their name is all I’m saying.” 

“Dude, are you serious? I met Trixie because you paid for her to show up at my apartment dressed like a police officer and give me a lap dance on my birthday.” 

Now there’s an idea, Billie thinks as Tommy, remembering the incident, smiles sheepishly.  

“I’m not dancing tonight, no.” Billie finally answers his question, pulling Steve’s attention back and a shiver goes down her spine when his eyes snap to her. “But I wouldn’t say no to tying you up and having my way with you, Pretty Boy.” 

She doesn’t have to wonder if Steve remembers her the way she remembers him. If the words Billie had said and the insults, she’d flung had burrowed under his skin to live with him the same way Billie lives with his.  

Steve flinches, his eyes narrowing sharply on her, and it’s barely perceptible but she catches it before he’s being nudged at and jostled from both sides by his buddies as they hoot and holler about how he’s been chosen.  

He never stops looking at her. 

The only one who doesn’t seem absolutely thrilled for him to get picked up by some babe in a seedy strip club in Santa Monica is Tommy, who grumbles something about the attention being wasted on Steve. 

For the first time Billie wonders if he might be the bachelor about to get hitched – and she’s the one to flinch this time, as her eyes dart down to his hand. The ring finger is empty, which doesn’t really prove anything, but the pale strip of skin she finds there tells its own story.  

Divorced? Long engagement? Married already perhaps and out to prove the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree? Fuck she hopes it’s not the last one. Not because it would change anything for her. Maybe it would, if she were a nicer person, but she’s not the married one, and if she started splitting hairs about fooling around with married men her tip jar would be a whole lot emptier each month. 

No. She just plain doesn’t want him to be attached. The thought makes her chest twist up inside and the bottom of her stomach feel like it’s going to fall right out her ass – the same fucked up emotional constipation she’d felt watching him run through the female population of Hawkins High like he was trying to make them all forget they’d watched Nancy Wheeler take his balls and then make an absolute fool of him.  

“Thanks for the offer, Bunny -” Steve starts, and she can hear the butt coming as clear as the others can if the sudden swell of groans is anything to go by. 

“Harrington! Come on man.” 

“Boo!” 

“See what I mean? That’s a fucking ten right there, and you’re going to blow it over some bitch who doesn’t even want you?!” Screeches Tommy. 

Bingo. Thank you, Tommy, with the big mouth. So, it’s divorced. Separated but still holding on to the past – just like old times. 

It makes her smile a little mean as she leans toward him, holding his gaze, purrs - “You scared, Bambi? Worried I might break you?” 

Steve clamps his mouth shut. His eyes blaze at her and her throat goes dry. 

“Oh ho! Careful now darlin, our Stevie boys got a pretty big ego. You might not want to poke that bull if you’re not ready for the ride.” One of the bros says with the kind of glint in his eye that says he lives for ‘big egos’ putting little women like her into place. Fucking prick. 

Steve seems to think so too because he mutters, “Shuttup Andy” as he reaches in his pocket for his wallet. 

“How much?” he asks her, sounding bored. It’s bullshit. Billie licks her lip in triumph. 

“Fifty for a lap dance here at the table, fifty more if you want to see some tit.”  

“How much for a private show?” 

Her breath hitches, her stomach tightening in her eagerness, but somehow, she keeps the breath out of her tone as she replies. 

“Depends on what you want to see.” She answers, and without so much as a pause Harrington smiles – challenges. 

“Everything.” 

Fuck. She’s doing this. 

She’s not delusional enough to think that fucking him is going to heal her inner child or whatever, and while she firmly believes she doesn’t owe every one night stand a complete rundown of her medical history, she’s fully aware of how this is different – of what the upstanding thing to do would be. 

But then Billie remembers the way Steve had started pushing back after their fight that strange night at the Byers house; the way he’d swooped in and pulled the rug out from under her – reclaiming his spot as top dog, just by existing. No begging. No apologies. He just opened the doors to that mansion he lived in and rang the bell, and Tommy and the rest had come looking for supper.  

She remembers the cruel things he said to her as he flaunted his big house and fancy car, rubbing in how quickly it was over once he made it a real contest; because however shiny and new Billie had been to those kids, she was still just trash under it all. Angry white trash going nowhere fast, while Steve was Mr. Somebody. Once he’d pulled his head out of Wheeler’s ass and remembered it, he’d made turning the school against Billie his new focus.  

Pushed further and further to the fringes, Billie’s only choice to keep the jackals at bay had been to fight them off until people got the message and started avoiding her altogether.  

She’s not claiming victim. She knows damn well who started the fight – that it was her own demons that drove her to lash out and try and prove her dominance over him – and that after that night at the Byers, Steve had especially no reason to take mercy on her. 

But just because she’d asked for the fight doesn’t mean taking a beating hadn’t nearly pushed her to the edge. 

Billie swallows back the taste of bitterness in her mouth, from the memory of being alone, broken and desperate, aching to be near someone who loathed her and yearning for the looks he gave so easily to other girls. 

Except now he is – King Steve – looking at Billie Hargrove like he wants her. Like he’d empty out his wallet and spend all of that nepo baby salary just for the chance to get at her; and like hell is she going to turn it away. Revenge couldn’t get sweeter than this. The only thing that could make it better is if he knew. It’s me on your mind. Me you can’t ignore. Me you can’t walk away from. 

But it’s just a fantasy. The reality him recognizing her now or later has her swinging from vicious jubilation toward mind numbing panic on a dime. 

Regardless - Steve Harrington stands up, ignoring the cheers of his drunk friends, eyes locked with hers – and Billie Hargrove makes her own choices. 

Billie is going to ride Steve until he sees God, hollowed be her name. Because she wants him (still) and he finally wants her. Just for once. That’s all she needs.  

She can worry about the aftermath after. 

[layraket]

Day 13 – Alt - Shivering

Character(s): Four, Sky and Legend (LU)

Words: 565

Summary: Not sleeping for so long can have consequences, worse if they’re thrown to another place so suddenly

Whump scale: 1 (see the full scale here)

Part 1 in Day 8

-

When he opened his eyes his whole body was in misery.

His head was made a chaos, a buzzing sound too loud for comfort and the light making it worse. His body felt cold, too cold.

Moving was hard, but Four managed to turn his head a little, spotting the figure of Sky wandering around him while talking something with someone else in red, Legend?

His mind was quiet and loud at the same time, at least now the light wasn’t that bad. He tried again to sit, his body barely working to hold him.

Apparently he gained the other’s attention “He’s awake” Sky said and the veteran turned around to face him, in a moment he was already kneeling next to him.

“You good? Need food? Water? How do you feel?” His eyes were scanning his whole body, searching for any sign. “You’re shivering, we need more blankets. Sky!” The chosen hero was already with some, maybe these were theirs.

The warm of the blankets were a little comforting, but his head and body still felt so… Wrong, he only felt like this when going through a…

“Where we…” He looked around to see directly to Legend’s eyes, searching for an explanation. They were the only ones around.

“A portal appeared and separated us; we’ve been here for already an hour” The vet got his fire rod and put it on Four’s lap.

“Also,” Sky added “you’ve been sleeping at least for two whole days, we had to make sure that you ate and drank water without you choking”

“Yeah also that.” Legend sneezed, then kept talking “The thing that kept you awake for so long was a spell from a wizzrobe, it made impossible to fall unconscious for you, that’s why when I tried to knock you out it didn’t work.”

Four’s head was starting to be less fuzzy, but he limited his responses to softly hum. That made sense, so that was what that spell was for.

His body in the other side, was not working correctly. Shivers came through his spine every once in a while and that made his whole body hurt for the movement. Not moving for two days maybe had it’s consequences.

“So… Should we search for the others? Or…” The smith whispered, waiting for the other two to have a plan.

“Well…” Sky started “I could search for them with the master sword” He fell into silence, that wasn’t good.

“He could, if only he had her with him” Legend added “We left out things with the others, maybe they have her”

So, searching for them was out of option, that wasn’t convenient. Maybe they could…

“We should start moving, I don’t want for a snow storm to catch us while we have Four with us like this” Legend isn’t looking behind him, he should.

“You’re right, maybe sleeping more could make him feel better. Can you carry him?” Sky, pay attention please.

“Mm… For a while, cold makes my joints stiff, we can pass him between us, he’s not that heavy.” Four wasn’t listening to their conversation anymore.

The shivering came, but this time not because the same reason of before.

“Guys… We have company.” When they looked at him and followed his gaze, a full pack of wolfos were already surrounding them. When the veteran grabbed his sword bare teeth were shown, charging towards them.

[dairy-farmer]

Ooooh~ Had a THOUGHT(TM)~☆! Accidental Meta Powers Groping Au! :D

Consider all the Weird Shit(tm) Batman gets exposed to during the course of your standard Superheroic Adventure. Goo and Rays and Beams, curses and countercurses. Gods. Alien nonsense. It's A LOT for the body to handle!

He goes away to help the JLA on some Alien Distress call. Gets VERY fucked up. Big ouch. Might not make it. But he saved the building full of kids he was trying to evacuate and stopped the alien's planet from being blown up.

So? They make an exception for him. Since he's their HERO.

They use their Super Advanced Alien Healing Pod on him. Don't worry buddy! We scanned the OTHER human with you and know what a healthy human looks like! We can fix you!

Problem? That other human? A dumbass. So worried about Batman... they forgot that THEY were Meta and HE was NOT.

And Batman is a little too unconscious and full of holes that shouldn't be there to remind anybody. #OhNo.

Bruce wakes up on the flight back. Feels a decade younger. Which he SHOULD because the Meta Dumbass is in his TWENTIES. You dense, dense mother-fucker! Bruce has VISABLY lost a DECADE. He wants to hit him.

A chair flies from next to him, directly at the guys head.

What.

He's telekinetic. WHY does he have telekinesis? Meta Dumbass starts sweating. It's... a long flight.

Worse? Green Lantern stayed behind to help organize relief efforts. It'll be AT LEAST a year before he's back and can get Bruce back to normal. He knows, because he strong arms a deep space video call.

They kinda used their LAST function pod on him. Great honor and all that. Are horrified they fucked up. But can't fix anything until the planet is less... flattened.

Bruce breathes. Remembers his meditation training. This is Fine(tm). He understands. Take your time, not your fault. He's just gonna have to get this under control until it can be fixed.

Problem is? It responds to his thoughts. Usually before he's aware he's having them. Thirsty? Here's a drink. Vaguely tired? Chairs. Note to self? Why not ACTUAL notes? Pen and paper!

He gets home EXHAUSTED. Explains what happened to Alfred. Not so much Tim, but Tim overhears, since he's eating dinner in the room. Weird things happen and things moving? Don't be alarmed. Just Bruce. Got it.

Tim feels someone ruffle his hair. Hug him.

Bruce is across the room and already turning away. Ah. Better not mention it. He's already jumpy around affection. Barely getting better. If he thought even THINKING about stuff like that was bad? Because it would "betray him"? Yeeeeah, hard pass, Tim decides. Besides. Hugs are nice, even if Bruce doesn't know he's giving them.

But of course~ Bruce is obsessive. His thoughts fixate and spiral. Tim gets used too, very quickly, the panicked pat-downs by hands that arent there, looking for injury. The lingering holds on the back of his uniform, ready to drag him back from danger or jumps Bruce doesn't think he can make. The hair ruffles. The almost needy, full body hugs.

Touches no one can see. That Bruce doesn't realize just WANTING, makes happen.

Tim has a great Party Mask. Has long been able to ignore choking suits and pinching shoes, the exhaustion, all the bruises from chasing his idols, and keep his face serene. This is no different.

Then the classic Go Wrong. Our beloved Ivy.

No place for Robins. So Bruce goes alone. Saves the day. But is hit, as usual. An unfortunate reality of her escapes. Has already hit himself with the counter-agent... but... he suspects this might be a new strain. It wasn't as effective as it should be.

He stumbles out of the car and into the emergency wash. Tim is there to help him get upstairs, as he all but falls out. It's a mistake.

There are hands and tounges, licking and groping and sucking EVERYWHERE, the second Bruce locks eyes on him. Digging into and worshipping places NO ONE has ever touched before, so hard his legs lock up and he freezes. He can barely move. Doesn't know what expression he's making but knows he's choking on the noises he's trying hard NOT to make.

They collapse half way to the stairs. Bruce pulling him into a vice tight hug, panting against a shoulder, as he trembles and refuses to give into what he so badly wants to DO to him. Not realizing he already IS. That fingers and tounges are working his holes open. Plunging in and in and IN. Finding things and grinding.

Tim can only shake and try to suck in air. Try not to let the noises out. Because he's afraid if he gives in, he won't be able to STOP. Everything's gotten so wet. He can't move. It's too much, all at once. Feels good but is scary. But Bruce is here. And he's trying NOT too. Not his fault. And, and-!

Alfred saves them. Is able to haul Bruce up and off to his room. Give Tim an anti-agent.

Because he got "exposed" too. Helping Bruce.

He doesn't argue, even if the shot makes him feel sick for a while. But, the thing IS? Bruce has become... AWARE of him, now. Because now the hands massage and stroke. He feels them palm his chest or butt, just to tease or squeeze a bit.

And after patrol? When they go to BED? Tim has to read Bruce's mood. Decide if he wants to stay at the Manor or his house. Because? When Bruce his stressed? He... relieves it. Perfectly normal, of course. But his THOUGHTS? Tim knows they're of him.

Because he feels them.

And he... he doesn't know if he's READY. It was so, so MUCH.

But of course, Bruce is better at hiding things then even HE is. And eventually he slips up. Is staying over. When one moment he is getting comfy, the next? Hands are pining him to the bed. His own pajamas used to muffle him, pushed up and out of the way. So mouths that aren't there can tease and abuse his nipples. Lick his skin like they want to devour him.

Go lower and lower. Pajama pants gone and hands holding him wide. For the world and no one at all to see. Bruce's clashing thoughts and desires meaning Tim gets both. Fingers teasing him AND mouth eating him out. Squeeling and panting, thrashing but unable to escape. His orgasms secondary to the fantasy happening a few rooms over.

Having a tounge fuck him even as fingers do. His chest being teased. Being able to HEAR the wet shlick noises and see his skin react. Feeling his hole being held open for something BIGGER. His ass being teased. Bruce unable to decide but turned on none the less.

Filled up, his first time on a cock that isn't even THERE. And, oh. Tim feels good and terrible and so FULL. Then it's moving and it's just good and full. Pounding all the good parts. Punching little noises out of him. And he wish it wasn't the powers. That Bruce was HERE doing it. But it's GOOD. And he ends up gushing wet and boneless.

LOVES Bruce's Stress Relief nights. Would go over and HELP if he could.

But Bruce is still affection shy. And Tim is still working on that. But hey.

Now Tim has a goal.

(And is DEVASTATED when they fix Bruce's "Gene Spliced Problem" even if he won't say why.)

-🐼🐼🐼

bruce using his surprise psychic powers to molest tim 🤭

[forwhump]

a/n; as promised, some wren <3 I said somewhere “nothing good happens now for a long time” so here’s some not good things happening >:)

I consider the second part of this whole thing (I’ll pick a title eventually) the “farmhouse arc” & the arcs are all based around the different vibes i felt like writing at the time LOL

this is when i was feeling slasher/serial killer sort of vibes & also hopelessly devastating yearning but worry not: it’s still just horrible shit happening to my (our ?? 👀) favourite little guy <3 (but seriously wren gets tortured in this one)

tw/cw: kidnapping, false imprisonment, sexual slavery, implied rape/noncon, mentions of past rape/noncon, misgendering, transphobia, psychological torture, drowning, burning but with water (boiling ???), mentions of necrophilia, mentions of a living weapon, dehumanization, body fluids

creepy whumper

Wren wakes up in the dark, naked and shivering.

It isn’t the first time, not even close, but something about this time is different. Wrong. He knows even before he’s opened his eyes.

He doesn’t recognize any of the sounds for a long time, a sort of rumble that’s so familiar but out of reach, detached. The floor beneath him moves restlessly, almost vibrating. It isn’t until somebody honks in the distance, laying on the horn, that Wren recognizes the hum of traffic and his throat constricts so tightly it makes him gag.

He’s in a trunk. He’s outside. But there’s none of the relief, there isn’t a deep breath of fresh air, because there are only two people Wren knows that would want to get him out of the district and above ground. Only one of those people, Wren thinks, would throw him in the trunk.

Now he’s alone. He’s more alone than he’s ever been. Trapped, and the farthest from Silas he’s been since he’s known him and Wren can’t save himself. How is he supposed to save himself?

That thing bursts in his throat and Wren screams bloody murder. The car swerves quickly, Wren slides, hits his head pretty hard but screams again, anyway. The car jerks and he hits his head again. He’s naked — he’s so fuckin’ tired of being naked. What’s the last thing he remembers?

What’s the last thing he remembers?

He doesn’t remember anything; nothing that ends with him in the boot of a car. How did he get here? Where’s Silas?

What the fuck happened to Silas?

He isn’t really the type to let Wren get far without him, but Silas has never been above ground, not as much as he remembers. Wren doesn’t even know how long he’s been unconscious, so he can’t even begin to guess how far they’ve gotten. Not that knowing that would even do him any good, seeing as Wren has no idea where they came from, doesn’t have the first clue where the district might be. How is Silas ever going to catch up? How is ever going to find him?

Wren’s never going to see him again.

It’s like cold water. It’s barbed. It knocks the wind out of him and he doesn’t scream again, but he makes a helpless, gasping sort of sound, the same sound he makes when he tries to scream in his nightmares.

Wren is never going to see him again. The world is too big and Silas is too unfamiliar with it; Point is never going to let Wren go. He’d kill him before he got far. He’d fuck his corpse once he’s dead.

Wren’s naked and shivering in the boot of a car and nothing is ever going to be the same again. The end of Wren’s life is unfolding formally in the trunk of Point’s car; the only way this ends now is with Wren’s death, or with Point’s. He’s never going to let him go. There’s nobody around anymore to save him. His life, in the district, had been grey and miserable, but he hadn’t been lonely. There had been warmth.

Wren’s never going to be warm again.

He tries to scream — he makes another breathy, choking noise. In the miserable grey of the district, he wouldn’t have been able to imagine being above ground and wanting to go back under it. Now, he can’t take a full breath in and his chest buckles beneath the weight and he starts to hyperventilate in the darkness of the trunk. He wants his books, and his brother. He wants Silas. He wants his looming shadow and his protective hand on Wren’s back. He wants the way he says Wren’s name, with the faintest twang of Wren’s accent because that’s how he had learned to say it. He doesn’t want to be alone.

The world is too big and Wren is completely alone. He takes another hitching breath and his chest hitches along with it. He doesn’t want to be alone. He can’t do this alone. He can’t do this by himself.

The car screams to a stop and Wren hits his shoulder so hard he feels the pain in his wrist. When the trunk flies open above him, Wren doesn’t have time to think or react — the world is so much brighter than he can remember it being. As the trunk opens, the light is let in, and it’s like being blinded, so bright he sees spots. He can’t keep his eyes open against it, and he flinches; as he’s flinching, Point is already reaching into the trunk with him, grabbing him around the throat.

He grabs him so tightly Wren can’t breathe under his hand and he makes an empty, wheezing sort of sound. Point grins widely; he’s here with him and still, Wren’s never been so alone. He grabs at Point’s wrist, tries to pry him off, claw him away, but he presses Wren a little harder into the boot of his car and says, “shucks. You’re awful pretty when you’re scared, cowgirl.” In his other hand, he has a rag he uses to cover Wren’s mouth and his nose. It smells sweet and Wren already knows what’s coming, even before the spots burst in his vision and the light starts to get wavy, blurry. “Unfortunately,” he adds, “you’re being awfully loud back here. I’m gonna need you to be a good girl and keep quiet a little longer, baby. You can scream as loud as you need to when we get where we’re going.”

He doesn’t even have time to scream.

He’s unconscious for a very long time.

Point keeps him sedated, keeps him under, and Wren only knows this because he knows to recognize the heavy, hazy feeling once he’s finally allowed to wake up again. It’s a different sort of headache than being knocked unconscious, a heavy throb of overmedication and dehydration.

He’s still naked, still on his back, but he isn’t still in the boot. He can’t open his eyes yet, his eyelids are too heavy, and his hands are tied, this time, wrists knotted behind his back. His fingers are pushed into what feels a lot like old shag carpet. “What?” Wren says, and he doesn’t mean to. But carpet?

There’s a series of sounds Wren recognizes quickly, a door being closed then locked, then locked again, then bolted. Point says, “well, good morning, cowgirl,” to the sound of him pushing something heavy in front of the door. “You’re right on time.”

Wren still can’t open his eyes. He slurs when he says, “what are you doing?”

“I got us a room,” he answers. “You need a bath.”

“What?” Wren says. He’s having a hard time thinking. Or is Point just not making any sense? They’re in a room? He chokes on a breath in, tripped up by the weight of sedation on his chest.

Conversational, Point says, “you can scream if you want to, baby. I made sure of it. I don’t know how soundproof the walls really are, but this place charges by the hour. Nobody’s gonna come running for a screaming girl.”

Wren still can’t open his eyes and it hurts when he swallows. Slowly, he says, “why are you doing this to me?”

“What?” Point replies. He snorts. “I got you out, cowgirl. You’re gonna have a warm bath.”

“I wanna go back,” Wren slurs.

“What?” He repeats.

“I don’t wanna be here with you,” Wren says. He’s being too honest and he still can’t open his eyes. He isn’t sure where the words are coming from — not his brain, that’s for sure. “I want Silas.”

“The fuckin’ dog?” Point spits, and then he’s quiet for a long time. He’s quiet for so long that Wren finally gains the strength to open his eyes again, blinking up at Point who’s leaned in close, too close, so close it makes Wren jump. He snarls in his face and takes a fistful of his hair. “That’s too fuckin’ bad,” he seethes, “you ungrateful whore.”

The room is exactly what Point said it would be, cheap and dirty, straight out of a 70’s porno or an 80’s slasher. It’s been a long time since Wren’s thought in any sort of movie references, and maybe being above ground again is bringing it out in him, maybe it’s the sedatives, but he thinks now, for some reason, about what happens to the blondes in every cheesy 70’s porno and every gory 80’s slasher, and he thinks, fuck. Panic finally starts to seep through the sedated cracks in his chest as Point hauls him across the filthy shag carpet by his hair.

Point drags him into a bathroom that wouldn’t look out of place behind a gas station and that looks like it hasn’t been cleaned in thirty years. The bathtub is coated with grime and the rusted pipes squeal as Point turns on the water, cranks it as far as he can. Somewhere deep, the heater rumbles, and the water that shoots from the faucet steams with heat. As the tub fills, the bathroom fogs, the water simmering in the filthy tub.

Panic rises up the back of Wren’s throat. He thinks he screams, but it might be the shriek of the pipes. “Darren,” he gasps, because he can’t catch his breath around the knot in his chest, he can’t breathe. Point snarls, and he tries, “don’t — don’t do this to me, don’t — don’t —,” gets stuck in a panicked sort of loop of, “don’t, don’t, don’tdon’tdon’tdon’tdon’t—” as Point pulls him up by his hair.

Wren begs, thrashes, pleads, panics, but Point lifts him with ease and a curled lip. He throws him into the tub, into the boiling water.

Wren’s skin starts to split immediately. Like boils, it starts to burst, opening through his skin and layers of tissue, worse at his palms and the bottoms of his feet, around the sensitive skin where his wrists are bound. Point reaches for the faucet, finally turns on the cold water, but with his other hand he keeps Wren in the tub as it boils, even as the skin of his own wrist peels away in the heat. He holds Wren in the water as he flails, and the nails peel from his fingertips as he claws at Point’s arm. He shrieks when he can, but he can’t very quickly; he can feel the heat in his lungs and he can feel the way the flesh starts to bubble with it, deep in his chest where it should be safe. He can’t scream because he can’t breathe and his upper lip splits open on one side.

When the water starts to cool, Wren’s skin still steams. It doesn’t feel hot, but like razor blades, hundreds of millions of razor blades, restless under his skin. He trembles so uncontrollably water sloshes from the tub at his stillest.

“The dog isn’t around to save you anymore, cowgirl,” Point says, dipping his other hand into the tub, shutting off the water once he’s deemed it’s acceptable. “I don’t want you to think about it again. Y’hear?” He adds, mocking, and pushes Wren’s head beneath the water.

Wren still trembles with heat and he never got to take a full breath in, hitching relentlessly. He doesn’t mean to gasp but he still inhales water. His hands are still tied behind his back.

He sputters, tries to hold his breath, to push himself up, but Point doesn’t let him break the surface. Point holds his head under water until Wren’s scorched lungs start screaming in protest and his vision starts to bloom dark spots. Point holds his head under water until Wren realizes he’s going to die.

It makes him think about Twilight, which is weird, but that’s what he thinks about. It might be the only thing he really knows about drowning. That and Silas, once, saying something passive about being waterboarded. But he doesn’t think about Silas, which is also weird. He thinks about Twilight, and how Bella said that drowning was peaceful.

She fuckin’ lied. It’s chaos, actually, and a screaming ache in his chest that feels like it might split him open down the middle. And he’s in a dirty fuckin’ bathtub, which sucks, and he’s still fuckin’ naked. He’s been naked for days, weeks, and now he’s gonna die naked. How fuckin’ demeaning. How humiliating. How unfair. How many years did he spend suffering underground just to die naked in a bathtub? What the fuck is that? Why is this happening to him?

Is anybody ever gonna know what really happened to him? Legally, he’s been dead for years, he knows this for certain. Point’s always been proud of himself for having made it happen. Nobody’s ever been looking for him. Nobody above ground knows what happened to him in the district and nobody in the district will know what happened to him once he left. Wren’s gonna drown in a bathtub and nobody but Point will ever know.

Closer to the end, things do get a little more peaceful. It doesn’t hurt any less, but everything starts to get sort of fuzzy and less severe. His fingers go numb. He thinks about Silas. It hurts a lot to die, and that makes him think of Silas.

He doesn’t die, not really, but that makes him think of Silas, too. He loses consciousness in the bathtub and comes to on the filthy bathroom tile, vomiting water. Point is pushing his wet hair out of his face and his touch makes Wren vomit again. “You feel better, baby?” He coos. “All clean?”

Wren throws up more water and it’s still hot on the way up. He’s trembling so uncontrollably it makes his muscles ache. It makes him think of Silas again, of the way his hands always shook. It makes him vomit again.

With another coo, Point turns him onto his back. It takes Wren a second to catch up with his body, it takes the panic a second to breach the surface of the water and he tries to gasp, chokes on it, vomits again. “Please,” he breathes, and Point laughs. The sound of his zipper is familiar. Wren chokes again as he tries to cry out, rasps, “please.” He tries to pull himself up, to so much as lean away, but his body is so heavy and shaking so uncontrollably and his trembling hands are trapped beneath his weight.

“You’re beautiful like this,” Point tells him.

“Don’t,” Wren rasps softly. “Please.”

Just as soft, Point says, “it’s just you and me now, cowgirl. You’re all mine. You might as well start getting used to it.”

His smile is unnatural. It isn’t human. Wren vomits again, still warm where it pools in the column of his throat and the dips of his clavicle.

“When I’m done with you,” Point says, curling a hand around the back of Wren’s thigh and he cries out, his skin still feels like razor blades, Point’s touch isn’t just bruising, it’s sharp, “we’ll get back on the road. I got a house waiting for us, baby. Big farmhouse in the countryside, nice and isolated. Nobody around to hear you scream.”

“Please,” Wren rasps, his breath hitching desperately.

“Nothing you can say or do will change the fact that this is gonna happen to you,” he tells him, soft and mock soothing. “You’re going to be kept chained up like an animal. You’re going to be used thoroughly and repeatedly. You’ll know your fuckin’ place, and you’ll show me the proper respect. You may not like it, cowgirl, but you’re fuckin’ sure gonna do it. You won’t like what happens to you if you don’t. It’ll be a lot worse than a warm bath.”

Wren’s heart beats in his throat and he wishes he had died in the bathtub.

Point’s kneeling between Wren’s thighs, starts rocking against him, coos softly when the warmth of his skin makes Wren vomit again. Why was he so desperate not to die? It has to be better than this. It has to be less miserable than this.

“Please,” he whispers, rough. “No more.”

“Oh, cowgirl,” Point says, and he smiles, wide and grotesque. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”

[whorediaries-09]

hey hun! how bout a #9 choking and maybe some #6 degradation with the one and only barty crouch jr? im a simp for that man and a sucker for your writing!!!

hell ya, babe.

twisted pleasure;

pairing- landlord!barty crouch jr x reader warning(s)- 18+ content, substances. a/n- the obsession is so strong guys?!

prompt- choking + degradation.

the diner. kinkotober masterlist. kinkotober rules.

the wooden staircase in the corridor creeps into your room. they creak with the heavy steps which you recognize to be your landlord's. cold fear grips you. it's been almost a week after the due date of the month. you still hadn't paid your rent. and you knew he was extremely particular about the dates.

'open the door!' his voice boomed first, then came the obnoxious loud knock. you rushed into your room, trying to put on proper clothes. you were fresh out the shower. in nothing but a faux silk nightdress. you weren't expecting anyone.

especially not him.

'i'm coming!' you scream, but it's covered by the overpowered sound of the door bursting open. barty enters the apartment, and you see him getting overwhelmed by the smell of pot in the living room.

'you filthy bitch!' he says, charging towards you. you back towards the wall, the anger in his voice booming. it's so obvious. and yet you feel more of your oxytocin in your blood rather than just adrenaline. maybe it's because of how insanely attractive he looks with his hair scattered all around his face. or his pupils which are full of spite focused on you.

'i'm sorry,' you manage to whisper out, at least pretending to be scared. you didn't want him to know you were getting turned on. 'i got fired last week. they closed the place-'

'you got the time and money to pay for pot but you ain't got time to pay me my rent? i'll call the fucking cops on you if you don't pay up right now!'

'i'm so sorry, mr. crouch,'

before anymore words were spoken, his hand was around your throat.

'sorry? i gotta pay my bills you know? you fucking whore! you'll pay up, or i'll do unimaginable things to do. bet you would like that wouldn't ya? silly little thing.'

he huffed, his mouth so close to your nose. his hand, touch so hot on your skin. unconsciously, you bucked your hips towards his crotch.

'oh look at the dumb slut. she likes it when i degrade her. don't you?' he mocked you, increasing the pressure of his thumbs on your arteries.

'god, i'll do anything if you will give me a few more days,' you manage to gurgle out. he smiles, running his tongue over his teeth.

'you bitch. i'll make you do anything i want, if that's what it takes me to get you to pay the fuck up.' and it's hell broken loose. he's tearing your nightdress down, exposing your chest to his hungry gaze. he spits between the valley of your breasts, pushing your head further into the wall-if that was even possible. with this other hand, he teases your clit.

'look at you, whore. no panties. and so wet for me, already. you like this huh?'

you stand speechless, letting his rough fingers scissor you open.

'look at you, so turned on for your landlord's cock. ever touched yourself thinking about me, slut?'

it happens so fast, as if in a flash. he's pulling his pants down, wrapping his legs around your waist.

'fuck,' you whimper. he pushes himself into you. it's a fast, burning yet delicious stretch and it makes you lose the strength of your knees. you bite your lip as his hips ruts into yours, profanities and his name falling off your lips like a chant. he's breathing heavy into your ears, cutting off the oxygen flow to your brain.

'dumb, cumslut, for my cock,' your walls pulsate around him at his words, and he smirks. he takes out his phone from his shirt pocket, and opens his camera.

'i'll film us. touch your dumb little cunt when you need me. then call me, i'll fuck you even better than those little fingers of yours can.'

he's relentless, scandalous while he abuses your pussy. your eyes roll backwards with each thrust, his cock hitting your spot perfectly. it's a rhythm and a roll of his hips, along with the force of his hand against your neck that makes you loose your decency and you're begging for him.

'barty, please,' he muffles his growl against your hair, destroying in the name of exploring your guts, and you're letting out breathy moans with the furious orgasm that coils within you.

'beg, beg for my cock,' whore, he croons, and your back scratches against wall he holds you against.

'please, please-barty-shit...' you moan. you feel dizzy, and your orgasm so on the edge consumes you from within and you babble incoherent words. he laughs, and there's a cruel mirth behind his voice.

your pussy walls, flutter around his cock, and he pounds into you, rocks into you and with each thrust, your slickness welcomes him, and it consumes you and him both. your clit rubs deliciously on his torso and simultaneously, his cock hits your sweet spot. your throat rips out a fetishized moan and you're breaking apart on his cock, while he's chasing his own release. your orgasm clutches his cock so tight, he resents the force on your own throat, and menacingly you wonder how he's not suffocated you to death yet.

'st-stop-' you beg, but he doesn't acknowledge you. he's chasing his own release, and the way you grip him drives him into a high of insanity.

'oh? is this too much for this poor cunt?' he mocks-and before the either of you know it, he's painting the walls of your abused cunt with his cum. it's filthy, his cum dripping onto the floor of his apartment from your used hole. you unwrap your shaking legs from his waist, and he lets go off your throat. you cough and splutter, taking in heavy breaths as he makes you kneel on the floor. he sits beside you, holding your hair while you struggle with your breathes.

[marwhoa]

request: none! (well technically so, technically not!)

🝮 little drabbles !

tmnt x readers; usually rottmnt

author’s note: hi! I haven’t been givin y’all anything lately, and me and my bestie *cough @tmntxthings cough* have a shared document for little writes and ideas we randomly have! Figured I’d give y’all some as an apology for my heavy lack of new writing :))) Also fair warning, my Drabble writing is very “bare bones” kind of ideas :)) not usually as descriptive as my published fics.

word count: I don’t feel like it :))

┆ ── ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ — Mikey x Mermaid!Y/N

Mikey secretly sneaks off at night to be by the water, listening to it and watching its waves crash against the dock he sat upon. Legs kicked, disturbing the water’s surface.

He notices something disturb the waves with a splash, one that gave the oddest feeling that it wouldn’t have been a little fish. It stirs his curiosity—not enough to dare a dip into the water, though. He can’t swim, so why would he do something so foolish?—but my do his eyes search the inky abyss for it’s disruption. This night lends to no answers and neither does the next.

Imagine his amazement one day, finding the suspicious splash reoccur each time he visits the dock, but this particular day, he sees something—someone?—gazing at him with wondrous eyes and a friendly smile. It was a shine like that of a child discovering something amazing.

Bonus idea:

Mikey and his brothers are fighting villain by the docks. He gets knocked off and at first, they’re like “!! Mikey! Ah, he’ll come back up, we need to keep going” and then Donnie freezes and is like “… He’s a box turtle.” And they’re like what? “He’s a box turtle—They-They don’t SWIM, THEY DON’T SWIM, MIKEY—“

They turn towards the water, ready to leap in, when suddenly Mikey comes up and they’re like “??!?!? How?!”

Pushing him up are the frantic arms of a mermaid. All brothers are speechless, Mikey’s unconscious. Y/N stares at them then gestures frantically to the passed-out brother, trying to tell them, “ help him! give him air! do it, land creatures! “

┆ ── ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ — Donnie x Y/N

(apocalypse angst, tw for detail)

Donnie was holding Y/N’s lifeless body in their arms, screaming at them in misdirected frustration, “WHY WERE YOU EVEN HERE, YOU NEVER BELONGED IN THE BATTLEFIELD! I TOLD YOU TO ST… TO STAY… “ He chocked on the heavy sobs and screams, wiping at his running nose, and spiraling downwards until all he could do is hold your body so tight. His screams are heard for as far as possible, compromising his position to the enemy, but there was nothing that could stop his wails.

Surrounding him are alerted Kraang monsters. Whirring, cawing, screeching—all painfully obvious signs that he’s unsafe, that he should be getting away, escaping—tucking tail and running!

And yet he doesn’t stop screaming at you, wiping hair out of your face roughly. “Open your eyes—open your GOD DAMN EYES, Y/N, PLEASE.” An alien appendage stabs through the flesh of his shoulder, jerking him forward and then back—away from you—as it violently shlunks out of the wound, but he couldn’t care less. His voice raises, cracking under the pressure as he yanks away and scrambles back to what was once you. He begs you to wake up, to please please just get up, you guys needed to get out of here!

Over and over again, he begs.

And he begs.

And he begs.

Begs until it’s the last thing he can say before blood fills his mouth and the last bit of life is drained out.

“ Please… “

His voice is weak, far from the strength you ever knew it had.

“ I’… “

“ I’m sorry, ju… just o… p… ”

“ open… your eyes… “

There’s just something about that inconsolable sadness, where they hold the body of someone once so full of love, begging in frustration that they please, PLEASE come back.

The choked sobs, the heavy wails, the desperation to hold them no matter the danger.

Trying their hardest to never let them out of their grasp as if that somehow symbolized facing the truth in its entirety, the truth that you were gone.

┆ ── ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ — Donnie x Y/N

(apocalypse angst again)

Donnie’s in his lab. It’s the apocalypse. He’s tinkering away on his gear, when one of his devices dings, indicating a video has been sent. This happens whenever his tech breaks, turns off, when their location changes drastically, if he set it to do so, etc. Many reasons, so he thinks nothing of it.

He doesn’t even realize the smaller screen beside his monitor shows one of his bands have been broken, gone offline, and stopped monitoring the heartbeat and life signature of a particular someone.

He clicked on the video, planning to let it play in the background—maybe it picked up something interesting or helpful with turning the tide of this war.

He watches with a bored expression as the display boots up, until he realizes he recognizes the voice. It’s Y/N’s wristlet that sent the video in? He hadn’t even noticed she was out. Donnie casts a glance behind him, as if doing so would make her appear at his doorway, laughing loudly as she beamed her signature smile and shattered his ears with her loud voice (that he would never admit he loved, never, never ever!)

His attention is brought back to the video as she says something. “What…?” He whispers, looking down and grabbing his mouse to rewind. “What did you say…?” He whispers, leaning in with his head heavy against his palm while his elbow’s leaning into the metal desktop.

A grunt echoes through the video’s wavering audio—a mental note to update their decibel limiters is made—before an obscenity slips her lips and she growls out a, “It was risky, but Donnie will know what to do!”

He gives a prideful grin at that, chuckling as he closes his eyes and replays that in his head. ‘ Donnie will know what to do ‘ is probably the smartest thing she’s ever said, he thinks, humming a bit too peacefully. He’s brought back to his senses as her scream crackles through the recording. He stares wide-eyed at the monitor as the view of a Kraang Commander “Bot” looks down at her. Donnie grabs the sides of the computer screen, clutching tightly as he yells, “Get out of there!”, ignoring that she wouldn’t be able to hear him at all. He watches helplessly as he hears her struggle and scream, yelling insults and cursing, shouting, “For the Revolution!!” before a loud thud and crack. The video’s display has streaks through it and discoloration, indicating damage done to the wristlet. The one /attached to her arm/. Tears well up in his eyes as he shouts, “NO!” as the bot’s foot slams down, disconnecting the transmission entirely. That must have been when the file was sent to him.

He glanced over at the monitor for life signatures, seeing Y/N’s listed as “Undetectable”. Donnie feels himself become weak and light-headed. Anything on his table promptly meets the floor in a fit of rage.

Why her, he mutters.

Why was she out, he yells.

The only thing that calms him is the silhouette that appears in his doorway. He turns, shouting, “Get out, now isn’t the time!” Only to hold his breath as Y/N stands breathless and tattered up, leaning into the doorway as if it were the only thing holding her up. Frankly, based on her state, it probably was. She grins tiredly, shaking a strange circuit board in her hands. “Wh-Why the long face, Don… Donnie? Ah, sorry, I’m… H-Hey, is that my transmitter’s—“ Her eyes roll back as she slumps forward.

Y/N WOULD'VE hit the floor, if not for the desperate hold the genius Donatello had on her. He had sprinted across the room and opened his arms to her desperately. Whatever trinket she brought in could wait, slipping from her weak fingertips to think against the floor.

Best believe as soon as she woke up, a huge scolding was in place! She gave him the scare of a lifetime.

┆ ── ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ — 2012!Donnie x Y/N

(are you sensing who my favorite character is yet?)

I’ve had this idea for a while for 2012 donnie where y/n is his computer that got some mutagen on it

And then y/n crawls out of the fried computer, glitching all around the room before finally settling above donnie and being like “wooo !! It feels so nice to be able to be free now hey did you know you type really hard like REALY hard oh my gosh it was like a jackhammer on my back and omg your brother the orange one has the stickiest fingers ever just tap tap tapping and getting all my keys sticky oh but hey you always do your best to make sure I’m functional you’re so cool for that! Wanna know some cool funfacts? Searching Google Databases for Fun Facts, loading, ding! Hey, did you kn—“ and he’s just like “ I don’t know if I should be amazed at this literal super computer person or angry that someone more annoying than Mikey has appeared…”

Donnie’s just throwing a wrench across the room, apologizing when he hears Y/N squeak. Turns to see a part of their body glitching out from metal touching them. This tech hes working on won’t work, so they zap on over, floating above his head and leaning on top just for fun, then just goes “Searching Circuitry 62KBLG3.78K Guides on Google Database” and he’s like “What? Did you just identify—never mind that, what issue is there?” And they give a big happy grin, floating above the circuitry and holding a hand out, “One second!” They cheerfully exclaim, zapping out of the air instantly and making sparks come off the scraps he’s working on. Mans panics like holy hell what just happened where did they go when WHOOSH, the tech boots up and their body zzts out. Hands in the air gleefully, they’re like, “Finished! I did it, Donatello!” And he’s all giddy like whoa! You did?!? How did you??? And boom, friendship flourishes!

┆ ── ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ — Casey x Y/N

(Betcha didn’t expect that?)

Y/N and Casey are out on a mission, they’re in charge of being stealth scouts given that their slick stealth abilities—best of their line.

The scene takes a turn for the worst when they’re in an overgrown building, trying to get a better angle to the scene, to the place they’re contemplating a hit on. The two of them enter a slo-mo state as a kraang tendril juts out from the middle of no where and nics Y/N in the face.

They stumble back and the two share a split second of locked-eyes before quickly making a break for it—their position has been compromised, Casey shouts through his mic. He grabs Y/N’s hand and yanks them with him as he makes a sharp turn, knowing full and well that sharp turns are their weak point. They’re trying to get to a “safe” space, running through the dilapidated halls and crumbling floors. Ahead of them is the opening, a large, long-since shattered window. If they could just leap through that, then the tech around their wrists would give them the boost they needed to escape.

So they focus on that, running as fast as possible—occasionally stumbling or falling through the floor. One helps the other, leaving no one behind.

They’re almost at the edge when an ear-splitting screech stuns Y/N for one second too many. The alien appendage slices across their thigh, rubberbanding through the wound and back to the monster behind them in a fashion similar to a serrated knife.

Y/N screams out, Casey stalls. He pivots on his foot, rushing back to them and reaches out for their hand. He can carry them, he can take it. No one gets left behind, especially not them.

Y/N shakily but swiftly takes his hand, ready to quickly pick up slack so as to not jeopardize them.

But, right before they’re hoisted up onto their feet, their blood runs cold as the monster’s tendril shlunks into Casey’s shoulder, jerking his body back. Away from Y/N, leaving their hand cold, and soon their heart heavy as his feet stumble right off the window’s crumbling edge. The alien’s ligament yanks out of his body as the boy slips down. He’s gone, so fast, as if he wasn’t standing in front of them a second ago.

Y/N is filled with adrenaline immediately as they scream so loudly that their ears ring, the wavering sound in their eardrums could never match the pain in their chest as they stumble and rush to the edge, leaping off and narrowly dodging the next attack sent their way. Falling through the air, the grappling hook around their wrist lets out a series of beeps as it detects an uncharacteristic descent, instantly swinging out to attach to nearby rock and rubble stacked firmly. Y/N ungracefully slams into the wall, scrambling for footing with an injured leg before they began their aided swing down, searching everywhere for Casey. He’s no where to be seen, the further they go and still no sign of him!

Their feet plant firmly into the ground, hundreds of feet below the building’s drop, yet still no Casey. Tears are welling up as they throw caution to the wind and cry out his name.

“ Casey! “

No answer.

“ Casey, god—god damn it, please! Where.. “

No answer, they rub their eyes harshly of the spilling tears.

“ Where are you, CASE—“

A hand clamps against their mouth. A soft yet injure—familiar, too— voice whispers into their ear, and they can’t help but melt into the hold, back pressed against his chest.

“ Y/N, you know how dangerous.. dangerous that is, don’t shout in Kraang territory..”

“ Casey! “

They hugged him tight, excruciatingly so. Scares in the apocalypse were the worst.

┆ ── ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ — Mikey x Y/N

(apocalypse au)

Y/N sits under an old abandoned monument, around the same time as always, telling the sculpture about their day because they have no one else to listen and tell it to, being that they’re a humble nobody living outside of society in a little abode deep in a quiet forest.

One day, on a particularly heavy day, they’re telling the monument about what they saw when they went towards the city—it seemed as though there was an apocalypse of sorts beginning, so back home they ran, fearing that one day the apocalypse would encroach on their home.

When that happens, they worry what will become of their beloved friend, the unspeaking sculpture.

Sending it time to return home, they wipe their teary eyes, glance again at the stone smile of a long-forgotten hero, and leans into them for a hug.

As they do, suddenly there’s a rush of gravity. Arms wrap securely around their shooken frame as they pmf gently into the grassy beds below.

“ Whoa…”

Says the sculpture, glancing down to stare are their patron with a smile. Orange eyes flicker with a friendliness as he caresses their cheek.

“ Finally, I’m free to do this..”

┆ ── ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ — Someone x unhinged!villain!Y/N

Villain!Y/N, menacing and feral. Always avoids the cops—always. That includes the brothers. You don’t really terrorize New York that often, so tbh they forget that there’s a real top shooter within their zip code.

They’ve tried to fight you once before and basically got that you are your own form of chaotic lawful, kind of like a real Robin Hood one step away from immoral, unethical. So, deeming you a step behind Hero, they leave you to your own devices. After all, most antics of yours only bring harm to their enemies, never really innocents, so of course they wouldn’t make you a priority.

One day, one of the brothers is in a real conundrum—cornered, isolated, and taken off guard. The tides of the battle teeter both ways, not exactly lending anyone an upper hand, until this player strikes a good hit to the dude’s jaw.

Imagine their shared fear when something a few paces away catches their attention: a figure, silhouetted by the light behind them, wearing a maniacal expression with a substance dripping their hands.

“Come now,”

Crack of the neck, sickeningly so,

“That one’s mine. What high horse you on to be scruffin up what’s mine, baller?”

The fighter lasts only a second of surprise, twinged with fear, before you’re in their face with frighteningly fast speed, hand gripping their face in a way that seems like slow-mo to the downed brother. He watches the fighter get risen and then slammed into the ground. Silence plateaus until finally he speaks up,

“ … Thanks? “

“ Thanks? “

You respond confusedly, eyes glinting with an emotion softer than the wild-child energy it usually embodies.

That’s all for now :)) thank you for reading uwu

If there’s any of these that you’d like to see as a longer fic, just ask I guess.