#lmao the steps weren't good enough

[hatsbuckets]

TF 141 x Reader - Shower Hide Out

Short Version: You're a member of 141. Mission's over. The boys come hide while you're taking a shower. (Hide? Hide from what?)

WC: ~1300

Pairings: (implied) TF141 x (afab) reader | teensy weensy Ghost x Soap

Warnings: none? (nudity ig, but nobody does or sees anything,) extremely brief mention of drowning. (lmk if I need to add)

A/N: my first little cod fic I'm posting! teehee. Just something cute and domestic and simple that I thought of while showering. LMAO I did this instead of writing my thesis today so plz enjoy. More like this maybe to come?

It was late and a shower was long overdue.

You were grateful to finally be at a place where you could shower. It'd been days out on a mission and the sight of the little house was like heaven on Earth. Laswell had gotten it together, and you all met her there with little ceremony, but plenty of thanks. You each made sure each of you were good and not dying before sitting in with Kate.

You always got a little protective over the boys after the high stress, near-death-experiences you go through together. And they were the same with you, and each other, in their own little ways. Sometimes you weren't sure why, but you rolled with it. Soap always made a point to talk with you, helping you and himself destress. Ghost made sure you weren’t hurt, you would do the same, then he’d say something about getting better. You and Gaz liked to eat together, making sure you were both fed. Price was quiet, bringing you tea or coffee in the later hours, but never quiet enough to avoid a bit of banter. Sometimes it was a hearty combination of them all at the same time, and sometimes it was just one or two. Whatever it was, you were grateful. 

This current mission had resulted in you and Johnny both nearly drowning to death, but you were okay, and so was he. Naturally, it left all parties a little on edge. Soap didn’t shut up the whole drive to safety, keeping spirits light while Ghost and Gaz tried to keep the two of you from freezing to death. Laswell was worried too. She insisted, in her stoic way, on getting you all safe and rested for a bit before moving forward.

This wasn't the first time you'd all holed up in a small house, and it wouldn't be the last, but it was definitely one of the quieter nights of the five of you together. Laswell and Price wasted little time before discussing and debriefing. The rest of you were hardly as interested, tired mostly, but pulled in all the same.

Finally, they let you head up to the shower first, even though Johnny was shaking from the chill of still being in damp clothes.

"Go on, lass," he had chattered. "I'll b-be just fine."

Ghost had to force another towel around him before you were satisfied.

Upstairs, you twisted the shower on, letting the heat steam as you undressed. You peeled away a still damp uniform and even damper socks. Ew.

You'd need a full body scrub down to feel better.

You stepped in, pulling the curtain closed and letting the hot water soak through your hair and warm you to the bone. It hurt a little at your toes, the way warm water does as blood rushes around you again. You started with shampoo, lathering your hair intentionally, but not in a hurry.

As you rinsed you swore you heard the door creak. Then a relaxed sigh confirmed your suspicion.

"Soap?" You guessed quietly.

The Scot hummed in response.

You didn't mind. It wouldn't be the first time he'd stood by while you showered. Though normally it was because neither of you wanted whatever intriguing discussion you were having to be interrupted. Another of those weird little, post-mission comforts. This was just him, sitting quietly, enjoying the warmth of the steamed washroom.

You heard him kick his boots off as you put conditioner in your hair. Then another sound of the door hinges. At first you thought he'd left-weirdo, just drop your boots and leave- but then you realized from a mumbling grunt that he had not left.

You heard the shuffling of movement and the quietest unidentifiable remark from Soap, and then just the sound of the water again.

"Soap?" You asked, confirming if the man was still there.

He hummed again. "Still 'ere. Got some company too."

If you had to guess, it was probably Ghost. You could imagine him plopped down on the floor at Soap's feet, leaning against the man's legs. Again, it didn't bother you as you rinsed the product from your hair. Ghost had seen you roughed up, helped patch you up enough that his presence couldn't bother you. You'd done a bit of the same for him. Those weird little comforts.

Knowing they were on the other side of the dark curtain, dirty and wet and tired, but alive, settled a bit of the hammer of worry in your chest. It warmed you from the inside as much as the water on the outside.

The door hinges creaked again, announcing another arrival. You were grinning now.

"Captain scare ya off, Gaz?" Ghost teased.

There was a moment where he didn't respond. "This is just the warmest room in the house, with how much water she's using."

You laughed lightly as you lathered up. Whatever he was in here for you also didn't mind. You trusted Kyle with your life, and with the times he's seen you drunk after celebratory bar nights, you couldn't chase him off now. Those little comforts.

Before you could rinse off, the door creaked a fourth time. You thought maybe one of them had left. Maybe Kyle. But instead, you heard an unmistakable grumble.

"You moppets. Let the girl shower in peace." Price's voice was low but laced with a tease.

"And wot brings you 'ere, Captain?" Soap poked right back.

You rinsed yourself, a laugh escaping you as you thought about the four grown men occupying the small space. Little comforts. 

"What's so funny?" Ghost's voice was light, or at least as light as it could be when he wasn't too stressed.

"Are you all hiding from Kate?" You teased.

When your question was met with silence, you had your answer. Your laugh burst from you as you turned the water off. It subsided only as the chill of the air entered the isolated space as you extended your hand through the small gap between curtain and wall. There was a moment of shuffling and scrambling, then a towel landed in your hand.

"You'd be hidin' too if you were down there listening to her plans, that woman never rests," Soap's voice grumbled. It made you laugh again as you wrapped the towel around your body. You finally pulled open the curtain to the scene before you.

Like you'd guessed, Soap was seated on the toilet, boots off in the pile next to your own, his clothes still damp. Ghost was seated on the floor in front of him, still fully geared. Kyle had at least taken off his equipment in a different room, sitting on the floor against the sink counter. And Price, also still fully dressed, was leaning just inside the doorway, arms crossed over his chest.

While the other men glanced away in their respectful little ways, Soap watched as you stepped out, earning a thump on the leg from Ghost.

"What?" Soap cried. "She's'not naked!"

You laughed, stepping over Ghost and Gaz's legs as you made your way to the door. You rested your free hand on Price's shoulder and his eyes met yours.

"Surely Kate's new ideas aren't that bad," you teased.

The man shrugged, a smile crinkling his eyes. "You can go find out."

You huffed a tiny laugh. You could feel all their eyes on you now, so you made a point to linger just a moment longer. "One of you start showering; you all smell."

You headed for your own room as Soap's gripes and protests hit your ears. You understood something along the lines of “wouldn’t if you’d not taken all the water.” You smiled to yourself. They were protective, always in that weird little way of theirs after the high stress, near-death-experiences you all go through together. Shared little weird-not weird, just your own-comforts to make sure you were all alive and well. And you wouldn't have it any other way.

Thanks for reading.

[satoruxx]

THE SPACE BETWEEN COMFORT AND CHAOS.

✧ PAIRING: wolf!toji fushiguro x reader | 3.7k words

✧ SUMMARY: wolfhybrid!toji, hybrid au, grumpy x sunshine, animalistic behavior, bickering, mentions of blood and injuries, survival instincts are non existent, hints at past violence/abuse, toji is an asshole but he's trying !!

✧ RHEYA'S NOTE: ignore that i formatted this part all pretty while part 1 is just an ugly drabble. i just didn't expect to turn this into a series lmao. anyways please read part one before reading this so that it actually makes a lick of sense !! also i added people who asked for part two to the tag list so if you wanna be added/removed just lmk :3

you mutter a quiet curse as you step in a dirty puddle, eyes squinting through the torrents of rain pouring from the dark sky. it's bad enough you got out of work so late, but the heavy storm did nothing to make the journey home easier. you grip your umbrella tighter, even though your clothes have still been dampened by stray droplets, and speed up the pace.

it has not poured like this in your city for quite a few weeks now, and the change in weather would be pleasant if you weren't being hit by it full force—indoors, curled on your couch under a blanket, would be ideal. that's what you plan to do after you get inside, after a warm shower and dinner.

speaking of dinner, you're late for your routine meal drop off for your new hybrid acquaintance. though you're almost sure that toji won't be in his usual spot in the alleyway by your apartment in this weather, probably taking shelter where he normally does when the outside is too harsh. plus even if he decided to take his chances to come for food, he would've left as soon as he noticed his plate wasn't there.

you haphazardly push yourself through your front door, nearly tripping as you attempt to close the umbrella while simultaneously avoiding the rain. you inhale deeply once you're safe, leaning back against the door as you catch your breath. the rain sounds are muffled now that you are in your little cocoon of an apartment, and you immediately pull your wet shoes off with a grimace.

half an hour later you're stepping into the warmest, most comfortable pajamas you own, body now clean and thrumming with the freshness that only a good shower can provide. your stomach growls as you step into the kitchen, the rain still slapping against your window, and you immediately try to throw together whatever food you can find.

thanks to toji's daily rations, you have an assortment of meat in your fridge, but you settle for eating some rice and curry, choosing to leave meat for a day where the wolf is actually around.

you're halfway through your meal when you hear familiar sounds in your alleyway, and you can't help the way your jaw drops.

"oh my god there is no way," you mutter under your breath, hurrying over to your door and slipping on your shoes. grabbing your umbrella and snapping it open, you duck under it to avoid once again getting drenched by the downpour, the splashing sounds of your footsteps echoing through the alleyway.

even though he is soaked to the bone, toji looks unbothered, sitting against the wall lazily. his dark ears are laying low against his head, but they twitch to life at the sound of you approaching. you ignore the normal distance that is kept between the two of you, opting to stop right in front of him so you can hold the umbrella over his head. "what are you doing out in this rain?"

"you're late today." he ignores your question, green eyes sliding up your figure to meet your gaze. you shake your head in exasperation, staring down at him with a frown.

"yeah i got held up at work." you adjust the umbrella a little, and toji's eyes flick towards it, as though just realizing it's there. "i didn't think you'd be out here."

"came by earlier and saw your lights were off and you weren't home," he grunts, shaking his wet hair out of his. "just thought it was weird."

(he does not mention how long he sat and waited for you to get back, ears perking at every little noise that turned out to be nothing. he does not mention that after a while he got up to circle the area, eyes on high alert and a rising aggression in his demeanor, only to come back and find your lights on.)

"oh," you say lamely, blinking through mist. toji gets to his feet, and you reel at the way he towers over you. he shakes his head, the water from his ears and hair splashing haphazardly, before nodding once.

"well i'm leaving." he turns to walk away, and you blanch.

"to go where?" you can't help but pry, looking at his back searchingly. you see him shrug, hands in his pockets. his tail remains unmoving with the weight of water, clothing sticking against his damp skin.

"who knows?" he grunts. he nods his head at you gruffly. "get inside."

"but…" you grimace, glancing at the dark sky. "what if you get sick?"

toji's brow raises, and he throws you a sarcastic glance over his shoulder. "i'm not made of fluff, kid."

you can't stop yourself from rolling your eyes at his brashness. you don't know what you're doing, but the idea of him prowling out in the pouring rain makes your stomach churn.

"come inside."

toji's head whips so fast you think he might break his neck, jade eyes going wide. one ear perks at your statement, oddly endearing, and you would've chuckled if his expression wasn't so aghast.

"the fuck you say?"

you swallow, suddenly nervous. seriously what the hell are you doing? "come inside," you repeat, your grip tightening around the umbrella.

"are you fucking insane?" toji's voice is sharp and accusatory, like you've just said the most offensive thing known to man. "why would you even—?"

"it's pouring." you say it blandly. "and i wouldn't be able to sleep at night knowing you were sitting out here like that."

"i'll live," he scoffs, and you bristle at the harshness of his tone. "i'm not a cushy little human."

"ha ha," you mock him sarcastically, voice cutting over the sounds of rain hitting your umbrella. "even animals get sick in the rain, don't they?"

he grumbles at that, eyes narrowed at your haughty smile, before he turns to face you completely. "why the hell do you care?"

"i—" you pause, not sure what to say. why do you care? "i just do."

toji rolls his eyes, shoulders raised high as he squints at you through the torrents of rain. a beat of silence passes as you stare back, unyielding, and he finally sighs heavily. "you have horrible survival instincts, you know that?"

you can't help but beam, laughing at his disgruntled expression as he falls into step with you and making sure you angle the umbrella to cover his head. "if you wanna leave later you're free to. just stay until the rain stops."

toji glances at you from the corner of his eye, contemplating. he wasn't joking—you really did have the worst judgement he's ever seen. he can't wrap his head around how you don't find it dangerous to invite a ragged animal into your home, especially one that can so easily tear your limbs off. instead, you have this dopey little smile on your face as you walk him into your space, closing the umbrella with a practiced snap and leading him inside.

well, toji isn't one to complain—he can't even remember the last time he's felt the warmth of the indoors, shielded against the bite of the outside world. and if he tries too hard to remember, he'll find that the last time did not have same sweetness that seems to be radiating off of your very person.

the inside of your apartment is small, but cozy. toji can't help but look around, noticing the details that have made this place your own. he inhales deeply, finding traces of the scent of food, of laundry detergent, of an unlit candle.

of you.

"uh…" your voice has gone slightly awkward, and toji's gaze falls on your sheepish expression. you look somewhat embarrassed, consciously looking around at the lived-in messiness of your space—not that toji really cares. "d-do you wanna wash up? i should have some extra clothes for you around here."

toji grimaces at the feeling of his ragged shirt clinging to his damp skin, but he tries not to make it too obvious how much he welcomes the idea. he can feel dirt and grime under his claws, and the thought of an actual bath makes his head spin with feral delight. "i guess so," he mutters, nonchalant. you seem to relax at his willingness, and you nod as you lead him to the bathroom. he shamelessly looks around, eyeing the pictures of you and other people in your life hanging from your walls. he can smell your half-eaten dinner, and his stomach rumbles.

you push open the bathroom door, and he briefly glimpses a pile of clothes on the ground, along with a few other things scattered here and there.

"fuck," you curse under your breath, heat crawling up your neck as you practically trip over yourself to get inside and tidy up. "j-just wait out here for a second please!"

toji snorts out a sardonic scoff of disbelief. if you really believed that he would care about something as trivial as a pile of laundry, you've got him completely wrong. but he guesses it is just slightly funny to see you so stressed over your dirty underwear because of him.

you rustle around inside and then emerge, breathlessly smiling as though nothing had occurred. toji watches you, expressionless, and you gesture to the bathroom. "okay now it should be all good. there's soap and stuff in there so use whatever you need. let me get you some clothes."

you immediately squeeze past him, trying to head for another room, and that's when toji fucks up. it's an accident, but he can't help his reaction. your elbow accidently nudges his abdomen, and he yelps with pain, the sound morphing into a guarded growl. you immediately recoil, eyes going wide in fear and concern—he internally curses.

"what?!" you gasp, gaze darting over his body. "what happened?"

he clicks his tongue. "nothing," he snarls, fist clenched around the fabric of his shirt. you eye him warily, and he can tell you don't believe him.

"what? are you hurt or something?"

"no!" he snaps back, teeth bared, and that's all the reaction you need before you're crossing your arms and glaring at him.

"listen, if you're hurt you need to get it cleaned and looked at." toji has half a mind to laugh in your face because you look so stupid trying to intimidate him when you're barely reaching his chin. he knows there is stock in what you say, but he is not doing this with you.

"like hell," he grunts, mirroring your posture and sneering down his nose. "i'll be fine."

"you squealed like a puppy when i barely touched you!"

he throws you an appalled scowl. "what the fuck did you call me?"

"i'm right and you know it!" you shoot back irritably. you seem to catch yourself, because you let out an exasperated sigh and your voice goes a little softer. "will you at least let me look at it?"

toji eyes you warily, feeling a strange mixture of trepidation and guilt. he knows he is right to be cautious, and he knows he should not be trusting you no matter how sweet you seem to act. but at the same time he hurts, and he does not want to go back outside even though he's used to it now—something about such free warmth is making the rational part of his brain fall apart.

he sighs heavily, grumbling under his breath and shooting you a withering glare, before he carefully tugs his shirt off. he can feel the wet fabric clinging to his opened skin, and he bites back a hiss of pain as he rips it away. when he's got it off, he just looks at you, accusatory—but you aren't looking at him.

instead you have a distinct look of abject horror on your face as your eyes roam over his body. though he is extremely well-built and quite honestly, very attractive, his skin is marred with scars. old and fresh, they litter his body like a barely thought out map, and you seem to experience a minor heart attack. your eyes zero in on the wounds that are causing him the most pain—a shallow gash cutting just over his stomach and what looks like a deep bloodied bite in his forearm.

"how?" your voice is shaky, and you finally meet his eyes again. "what happened to you?"

"don't worry about it," he mumbles, his voice a little less gruff as he studiously avoids looking at you. "i told you it's not that bad. it looks worse than it is."

you conveniently ignore him, taking a step closer to study his body. frustratingly enough he feels heat crawl up his neck because you're looking at him so intently, teeth digging into your bottom lip and chewing with nervous bites. finally, you tear your gaze away from his torso to look at his shirt, a deep frown creasing your features as you notice the contrasting darkness in certain areas of the fabric—bloodstains. "well you can't leave them open like this."

toji rolls his eyes harshly. "i've lived through worse."

you glare at him once more, and he finds that the expression looks quite good on you. "you need to clean them up, toji."

his name slides off your tongue like butter, and he can feel his canines scrape against his lips. a flicker of something akin to embarrassment trickles over his body, and he frowns distastefully. "no."

you click your tongue, exasperation rolling off of you in waves. "are you stupid? they'll get worse. i mean they're probably already infected and—"

"i don't know how to alright?!" he hisses, baring his teeth at you angrily. your expression turns bewildered, eyes darting between his quickly, before it melts into something frustratingly sympathetic.

"that's it?" your voice is like honey, and he can't decide whether it irritates him or not. "i can help you."

help. toji doesn't believe humans are capable of helping—only harming. but you're looking up at him so imploringly, eyes focused and heavy with the foolish need to bring him comfort. why, he does not understand. but he has never been able to understand why humans act the way they do.

he pins you with a wordless stare, and he knows you've realized he's relenting, because your lips quirk upward slightly. with a nod of your head, you motion him to follow you into the bathroom and take a seat on the edge of the tub. he watches you rummage through the cabinets, pulling out what looks like gauze, disinfectant, a small towel, and a sizeable mug, which you fill up with warm water. he's about to stand up to make space, but you kneel at his feet instead, setting everything at your side and pushing your hair away from your face.

it baffles him, how quick you are to yield to a species that is so obviously beneath you.

but you don't seem to be thinking any of that, gaze darting over his body as you try to figure out how to approach this. "i'll try and clean up all the blood first and then disinfect, okay?" your voice is barely a murmur, but his pointed ears catch the words all the same.

"you're the expert," he grunts, nonchalant. "do what you need to."

you smile wryly, dipping the towel into the water. "you said it, not me."

he snorts out a sound that sounds suspiciously like a chuckle, but you don't comment on it. instead, you are focused on his body. you see numerous scars and welts, some fresh and some so old, and you are surprised at how sad they make you. it seems like the feeling is evident on your face, because toji watches your features with an unfamiliar intensity. you can't help but prod. "how'd you get these?"

your voice is gentle, as though you're scared a lack of fragility will shatter him. but toji has dealt with far worse than whatever sweetness you seem hell bent on showing him.

"betting on animal fights is a lot of fun for rich assholes." he doesn't look at you, but his lip curls with a deep rooted distaste—you think you feel it too.

so that's where toji comes from. the underground hybrid arenas that you've seen on the news many times before. a common place for predators who were normally so unwelcome in society to be put to good use. a controversial topic, because despite its popularity amongst the rich, everyone knew the conditions were not the greatest.

but you never thought they'd be this bad—how naive.

"i'm so sorry," you mumble forlornly, gently tracing the towel over the wounds. toji grunts noncommittally, but doesn't say much else. you're fine with that, and you clean him up with a tenderness that makes his stomach churn.

all he can focus on his how small your fingers looked wrapped around his claws, and he think you might be a lot braver than he is.

after you're done with your handiwork, you leave him to wash up in peace, and toji silently stares at your tiled wall as the hot water pours over his back. he does not know what he's doing, and what he's trying to get from this. sure, being fed everyday was a welcome addition, but he never planned on stepping this close to you—the thought makes him queasy. he does not enjoy the idea of being indebted to a human, because all they do is take and take and take some more.

and yet he finds himself slipping into the clothes you've given him, and when he looks in the mirror he's surprised at how much a simple bath could change him. toji wearily runs his tongue over his teeth, before it traces over the scar on his lips. a wave of disgust washes over him—he pushes it aside.

when he find you again, you're in what he assumes is a spare bedroom, tucking a fresh set of sheets into the corners of the mattress. he drops his old clothes in the corner, and then clears his throat to announce his presence. you turn to look over your shoulder and smile at his cleaner appearance. "you're done?"

he nods gruffly, watching as you stand up straight and take a few steps closer. "did the shower help?" you pin him with a curious stare, and he sighs resentfully.

"yeah," he grumbles, and he can feel your smug little smile saying nothing but i told you so. he has the strongest urge to flick your forehead.

"oh, i can take care of these."

he can't bite back his snarl when you pick up his clothes, and you freeze at the unusually territorial look on his face. he seems to pick up on the little fright he gave you, and his ears lose a bit of their tension as he sighs gruffly. "just…don't get rid of them."

you pause, glancing down at the rags in your hands. you stop to think that maybe these clothes are the one thing that toji has had since the start—important in a way that you won't understand. so you just nod with a reassuring smile. "i won't. i'll just wash them for you."

toji's shoulders relax, and his expression shifts, green eyes looking anywhere but your face. he nods once but doesn't say anything else, and you take it as your sign to continue.

"you can sleep here. i changed the sheets and put some pillows down too." you nod at the bed, pristine and untouched, and toji's bones suddenly ache with fatigue. how long has it been since he's seen a real bed?

he wonders what exactly your angle is. what do you get from helping someone like him? what sick urge do you satisfy by extending pity to a ragged animal? what do you achieve by passing on glittering smiles like they aren't priceless?

and what do you do to make yourself look so innocent through it all?

you're still blabbering about the bed. as much as he tries, toji cannot smell any malice on you—just pure disgustingly sweet kindness.

"how d'you know i'm not a serial killer or something?" he peers down at you with an arched brow, gaze sharp. "i could just eat you in your sleep."

you blink, before smiling sheepishly. "…do you plan to?"

there's a pause, and then for the first time, you see his scarred lips tug up to one side—a half-smile. a quiet chuckle bubbles forth and he crosses his arms. "nah, you're a little too sweet for my tastes."

you frown at him, watching as he dramatically wiggles his clawed fingers and flashes you his teeth, before rolling your eyes. "how flattering."

he snorts out another laugh, and you take the time to put the extra blankets on the old bed. "i've got more blankets in the closet if you need them, so help yourself." you busy your hands with propping the pillows against the headboard, and you see toji nod from your peripheral.

"i'll uh, be outta your hair soon," he mutters, suddenly feeling out of place.

"relax," you answer, grinning with a shake of your head. "i'm the one who asked you to stay so we could get your wounds all better. you're not giving me any trouble."

"right," he murmurs. there's an uncharacteristic gentleness in his tone, awkward and tense, but you recognize it to be a semi form of gratitude. toji glances at your easy going grin, and his skin prickles uncomfortably—he's not sure how to react to such blatant warmth.

"i'm in the next room over so if you need anything, just knock. i'm a pretty light sleeper." you flash him a thumbs up and turn on your heel, heading to your own room. toji waits until he hears the click of your door before taking a cautious step forward. the clothes you've given him are somewhat tight on his figure, and they faintly smell of some other man, which makes his nose wrinkle with distaste.

though he guesses he should try to bite his tongue and be a little grateful—they're much more comfortable than the rags he'd been in for all those months. toji clambers into the bed, claws digging into the unfamilar softness of sheets, and a heavy wave of fatigue washes over him.

he falls asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow, your stupidly sweet smile burning behind his eyelids.

taglist: @h4wkz @babyblue0t7 @en-happiness @ourfinalisation @lymsfm @jazzy00001 @mahoubitch @deedeeznoots @ghost-buddies @teddybeartoji @onimira @polarbvnny @starmapz @thikcems @nonamebbsblog @echodead @pennameyoruichiii @venussdovess @emi311 @meow-satoru

lmk if you would like to be added/removed <33

[slut4thebroken]

Sweet Dreams

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Tommy Shelby x daughter!reader

Summary | Tommy let’s you try some of his whiskey.

Warnings | Smut, 18+, sexual content, actual incest, technically non con, large age gap (unspecified), breeding/housewife kink, somno, underaged drinking (pretend the legal age is 21 over there lol), kissing, praise, innocence & corruption kink, daddy but not the kink, I want him to take advantage of me so bad😭

Words | 2.4 k

Notes | I shouldn’t even have to say this but this is a work of fiction. Please remember that lmao. Also it’s unspecified but reader is at least 18 so don’t come for me 💀 It’s also unspecified on whether reader is his bio daughter or step daughter so feel free to choose lol.

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

(You can only read this fic if you pinky promise to help me come up with a different title)

You were lying on his chest as he read a story to you, trying to get you to finally fall asleep. But your brain was too awake. When he grabbed his glass from the side table and paused reading to take another sip, you decided to ask him. 

“What’s that, daddy?” You angled your head up to look at his face. 

“It’s whiskey, love.” Your eyes moved between his face and the glass. 

“Can I try some?” You finally asked, making his brows shoot up. 

“This drink isn't for little girls. You’ll have to wait until you’re older.” He chuckled, making you frown. 

“Why can’t I try some now?” You pouted. 

“Because you’re too young, love. Give it a couple years, then I’ll let you have some.” You turned onto your stomach and leaned up to face him better. 

“Please, daddy?” You gave him puppy dog eyes and he stared at you for a moment, then let out a breathy laugh and shook his head. 

“Alright, fine. But just one sip.” You beamed at that and grabbed the glass when he handed it to you. Before tasting it, you decided to sniff it first, noting that it smells like how he sometimes smells. Not able to wait any longer, you took a small sip, then immediately scrunched your face up in disgust. He laughed quietly and you swallowed it, but that only made it worse. 

“It burns!” You whined, coughing lightly. 

“You get used to it, little one.” He said with an amused smile. “Try some more, it should be better this time.” You hesitated, but took another sip. It wasn’t better, it still burned a lot and you could barely take it. “Good girl. Have a little more.” 

“Daddy, it hurts.” 

“I know, love, but if you drink more it’ll stop hurting. Don’t you trust me?” You averted your gaze and bit your lip. After a moment, you brought the glass up to your lips again. “That’s my girl.” He said proudly, making you blush. You coughed again, but he wasn’t wrong, the burn was just barely starting to improve. 

“You’re such a good girl. Drink a little more for me, eh?” You pouted, but nodded and took another sip, this one slightly larger. “There you go… How do you feel, princess?”

“Warm.. n’fuzzy.” That made him laugh quietly. 

“Yeah?” You nodded. “That’s good. Can you do one last thing for daddy?” 

“Mhm.” You could feel yourself getting a little drowsier and you weren’t sure why. 

“Can you finish the rest for me?” You looked at how much was left and whined quietly, but agreed. Figuring it’d be better to get it over with quickly, you chugged the rest, ignoring how much your throat was hurting. “Good girl. You are such a good girl for me, baby.” He took the cup and set it on the side table, along with the book he was reading to you. “Tell me how you feel now.” 

“Mm… sleepy.” You mumbled, making him smile. 

“Don’t try to fight it, love, just go to sleep. It’s past your bedtime anyway.” You let out an incoherent agreement, then laid your head on his chest again, letting him wrap his arm around your shoulders. You weren't so tired that you fell asleep instantly, but you were tired enough where you could barely keep your eyes open. 

Tommy stared down at you as he stroked your hair, soothing you to sleep. You turned more on your stomach and lifted your leg so it was bent and resting over his legs. One of his hands moved down to your bare thigh and rubbed slowly, staying below the hem of your night dress. 

“My sweet girl.” He murmured, kissing the top of your head. You hugged him tighter and he was suddenly very aware of your breasts against his side. “Getting so grown up…” He sighed solemnly. “Thought I told you not to do that? I oughta punish you for disobeying your father.” He suddenly squeezed your thigh and you let out a quiet noise, but didn’t react any other way besides that. 

He kept dragging his hand up and down your thigh, pushing your dress up a little higher each time. For a while, he continued that, waiting until your breathing slowed and you started to fall asleep. He smiled at the sound of your soft snores and brushed your hair away from your face as he looked down at you. Cupping your cheek, he brushed his thumb over your bottom lip— so soft… so kissable. He had to shake his head to get rid of the thought as soon as it appeared. You’re too innocent and pure. He’d never be able to forgive himself if he took that from you. But fuck… 

You smiled a little in your sleep and hugged him tighter, pushing your cunt against his hip as your leg rested on his crotch. He stiffened and bit his lip, trying to control his thoughts and his body. But he couldn’t help it when his hand drifted from your cheek to the strap of your dress. He teased it a little, silently debating if he should… It didn’t take much convincing though. 

Slowly pushing the strap down your arm, he just barely brushed his fingertips on your skin. He continued dragging it down until the nightie was being pulled as well, slowly exposing more of you. He only stopped once it was resting on your waist. 

“Fuck.” He hissed, staring at your young, perky breast and hardened nipple. He lowered his hand so it was holding your hip, then raised the one on your thigh to lightly trace over the soft skin. You just looked so young— so little. Especially when he cupped your breast, completely engulfing it in his hand. He knew that your pussy would be just as little. The thought had him biting his lip to stifle a groan, feeling his cock twitch in his pants under your leg. 

He squeezed and groped you slowly, being extra gentle while he still had the self control to do so. When he moved his attention to your nipple and started rolling it between his fingers, you let out a quiet little sound, just barely audible. 

He placed his palm flat on your chest and slowly snaked it down your body, to the bottom of your dress. Without any hesitation, he snaked his hand back up, taking the fabric with it. He cursed under his breath as more and more of your body was becoming visible.

You were perfect. You looked like innocence personified. When he couldn’t take it anymore, he gently pushed your shoulder to get you to lay on your back, making you whine quietly. 

“I know, sweet girl. It’s okay.” He whispered, kissing your head as he turned on his side to face you. He ran his hand over the soft skin of your tummy and down to your hips, where the plain cotton panties rested. “You’re so beautiful.” He murmured, almost dreamily. As his hand continued to explore your body, he tugged down the other side of your dress, then moved his head closer and gently kissed your nipple. He took it into his mouth, suckling on the hard bud and moaning quietly against you. The only reaction you gave was a soft sound and a small shift of your body. 

“Are you gonna let daddy see your pretty pussy?” His voice was quiet, but thick with arousal. “Shake your head if you don’t want me to.” He chuckled quietly, as he kissed over your breast, just enjoying having his lips on you. When you didn’t respond, he got up and moved between your legs, settling on his stomach between them. Rough hands were placed on your thighs, prying them apart to give himself more room. 

He leaned down and inhaled deeply, savoring your scent. With a low groan, he started mouthing at your cunt, licking and sucking through the panties just to tease himself. Your hips squirmed a little and a quiet moan left you, making his eyes snap up to your face, but you were still fast asleep. After only a few more seconds, he pulled back so he could move your underwear to the side, exposing your glistening cunt. 

“Do you like when daddy touches you like this? Is that why you’re so wet already?” He asked teasingly, not expecting a response. Using his thumbs, he pulled your folds apart, giving him a better view of your untouched pussy. “My perfect little girl…” He sighed, unable to tear his eyes away. 

He moved his thumbs closer and pulled your hole open a little, imagining how it’d look stretched open on his cock. The thought had him grinding against the bed like a fucking teenager. He desperately wanted to force his fat cock inside, split you open and push it in deep. He wanted you to cry and beg him to stop, to tell him how much he was hurting you. 

He wanted to bury his cock in your torn up, used little pussy, press the tip right up against your cervix and fuck you full of his come. He wanted to give you load after load, not stopping until he fucked a baby into you. Even though, realistically, that could never be allowed to happen, he enjoyed picturing you with a round belly, your breasts swollen with milk. He wanted to keep you at home, safe from the world, to raise all of the babies he fucks into you, cook him dinner every night, drain his balls whenever he needs it. 

“Fuck—” He choked out, suddenly getting on his knees between your legs, opening his pants to free his cock. He stroked himself slowly a few times, gaze dragging all over your body. “See what you fucking to do me?” He hissed, slapping his cock on your clit a few times. Practically holding his breath, he dragged the tip through your folds, covering himself in your slick. He held his cock right up against your entrance, breathing heavily and closing his eyes, shaking his head to convince himself not to do it. 

He’d hate himself for the rest of his life… But would that be worth it to feel you stretched past your limit around his cock? 

“No.” He decided, clearing his throat and opening his eyes again. “No. Not— not yet…” He leaned over your body, keeping his length firmly between your cunt and his stomach, then started grinding slowly. He watched your brows scrunch together a little when you felt the constant rubbing on your clit. 

Dragging his gaze over the rest of your face, he finally settled on your lips. He leaned closer, trying to steady his breathing as his eyes grew heavier until they finally shut, only a second before he pressed his lips to yours. You didn’t kiss back— obviously— but he enjoyed feeling your soft lips against his. Growing needier, his hips sped up as he deepened the kiss, licking into your mouth, practically devouring you. 

You let out a muffled sound and started squirming a little, making him pull back. As he panted, he watched your heavy eyes trying to flutter open. 

“Daddy?” You mumbled, voice laced with sleepiness. “What…” You trailed off, unable to get out any other words, and he shushed you softly. 

“Don’t worry, little one. I’m here.. you’re okay.” He murmured, kissing your forehead and cupping your cheek, the movement of his hips never faltering. “Just go back to sleep. You’re safe with daddy.” And you believed him. You stopped trying to open your eyes and relaxed into the bed again. He resumed the kiss, keeping the intensity from before as he pushed his tongue in your mouth and moved his hand from your cheek to your jaw to tilt your head up a little more. 

“Daddy…” You tried to say, voice coming out in a pathetic, muffled whine. He hummed in response, not pulling back to bother with verbally replying. His free hand moved to cup your breast, groping and kneading until you were letting out quiet little sounds into the kiss. You whimpered when he started pinching and pulling on your nipple. 

“Shh… It’s okay, love.” He said softly, only pulling away to speak before immediately diving back into the kiss. His hand strayed from your breast, dragging all over your body, feeling every inch of skin possible. 

He broke away from your lips so he could trail kisses along your jaw, then down your neck. His cock throbbed at the idea of covering you in marks— claiming you so everyone knew who you belonged to. But he knew he couldn’t if he wanted this to happen again. So he continued kissing your skin, inhaling the sweet scent of your perfume. Everything about you was absolutely perfect. 

“I can’t wait to feel your cunt.” He whispered into the crook of your neck, his breathing growing more labored. “You’re such a good little girl, aren’t you? And all mine.” He was rambling as he neared his release, far quicker than he would’ve liked. “All fucking mine. You belong to daddy, eh? These perfect tits,” he suckled on your nipples, quickly and eagerly, “belong to daddy. Your pretty little cunt belongs to daddy.” He growled, cock twitching at the thought. “You’re mine.”

He cursed under his breath when he felt his balls tighten up. Lifting himself so he was sitting on his knees, he rapidly fisted his cock, keeping your panties pulled to the side. As soon as the first ropes of come shot out onto your cunt, he let out a low groan at the sight. He grunted and moaned, breathing heavily as he watched all of his come land on your folds. He waited until the last drop beaded on the tip, then dragged his cock through your slit, spreading his arousal. He moved it down toward your hole and just barely pushed his cock forward to get some of it inside.

“Good girl.” He said through a heavy breath, admiring you for another moment before fixing your underwear and night dress, then tucking his cock back in his pants. He stopped again and just stared at you for a few seconds. Your cheeks were a little flushed from the alcohol and probably also the stimulation on your clit, and your lips were just barely parted as you breathed quietly. “Made daddy feel so good.” He whispered as he leaned down to kiss your forehead. You let out an incoherent sound, making him smile. “Sweet dreams, little one.” 

Taglist (join here)

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[professionalgooner69]

Tear drops on the dining table

"You think a house runs by itself!? Everyday I work DAY AND NIGHT like a dog to make this house into a home and this is how you repay me??" You said, voice filled with agony and frustration.

" I..." He holds eye contact with you for a moment before turning away.

" Are you fucking serious? How much effort does it take to ACTUALLY be present huh?" You point your words at him with sharp, arrow-like precision as you hit him on the chest with the rolled up newspaper.

" All I ask..." You pinch the bridge of your nose, sighing "All I ask is for me to not be the only one present in this marriage."

" I'm... trying sweetheart, but you know work keeps me busy." This time he looks at you, really looks at you—hoping that somewhere deep down you might still forgive him.

A smile breaks into your face as you break character and tell him-

"Man I was hoping you would be more of a bitch."

" Well I'm trying but it's hard to be a bitch to my girlfriend when we're playing pretend husband-and-wife darling" He says while chuckling.

"....This wasn't intense enough, do you think we should go for a scene where you cheat on me-"

Before you can finish your sentence, your words register in his mind as a scrowl develops on his face.

" I would rather not even think about it, let alone enact it with you"

"Man...you're boring as hell, - 1000 aura."

" My apologies for being a good boyfriend and not arguing with you much."

A moment of silence passes by as you tell him your next move, which to your dismay, doesn't gain his approval.

" what if you were my step-"

" fuck no"

" I could be stuck in the washing machine-"

" Sweetie we have a vertical one"

Am image of you being very unsexily stuck in your tall ass washing machine comes to your mind as you cringe at thought. You rack your brain as you try to come up scenarios to act out.

"... What if you were my teacher?"

" Weren't we supposed to be fake arguing rather than enacting porno scenarios?"

" C'mon be a little sex positive dude" you tell him as you latch onto his arm.

" Ain't nothing positive about your sex life" He snorts.

Now this is not how you imagined it to go when you suggested a teacher role play, here on the dining table with your books laid out, which you had done so to make it more immersive, being oblivious to what effect it might've had later on.

"How the fuck did you pass high school?"

You grip your pen a little tighter as your boyfriend, now chides you for doing your work wrong. At first you were happy he was getting into the whole teacher thing but you hadn't assumed that he would ACTUALLY start teaching you.

Vietnam War flashbacks come back to you as he ask you

" When was the Harappan civilization found?"

" I- uhh"

"Let me give you a hint." A sigh of relief leaves your lips, thankful at his mercy-

" WHEN WAS THE HARAPPAN CIVILISATION FOUND?"

He yells the same question louder as if doing that will make you remember the date.

As you sit there, with your notebook filled with tears of not remembering the fucking date of an age old civilization, you make a mental note to yourself to never ask him to role play with you ever again.

LMAO I rlly dk wtf I just wrote but I hope yall like it😭❤️💀

Reader wanted to fake argue with the boys since they're such green flags that arguments are rare 😭💀

[tobesolnelyx]

I NEED MORR FRATBOY LOTTIE!!! maybe reader is super sensitive and one of lottie’s dick friends says a mean joke that makes her cry? lottie stands up for reader and then they go back home to cuddle and watch a movie

— sweet nothings || fratboy!lottie matthews x fem!reader ☁️

a/n: starting to think that writing is bad for me. smoked so much while writing this lmao.

summary: your protective girlfriend <3. modern college au. fluff.

warnings: none! pure fluff

word count: around 1.4k

Being extremely sensitive and dating someone like Lottie could be... quite a burden. Not because she was abusive, or screamed at you, or went out of her way to hurt you. It wasn't that. Lottie was just naturally mean. To everyone. Some she prodded just to get a reaction, to see them squirm—because she could.

With you, it felt like some twisted love language. The teasing. The offhand jabs. Lottie simply wasn't very good at keeping her mouth shut

But she was trying. She never said it aloud, but you knew how terrible she felt every time she made you cry. Not that it was on purpose. And it wasn't even the worst thing someone could say—but you were sensitive. And for once in her life, Lottie decided to take that seriously. To not make a joke every time you didn't react the way she expected.

You didn't always want to talk about it. You didn't want to make yourself out to be a victim. After all, you didn't have any real reason to cry! Lottie was a good girlfriend—at least she was trying to be. She respected you deeply. She just... went too far sometimes. And there were days when one sharp remark was enough to ignite something in you like a live wire.

Lottie wasn't great at verbal apologies, but if she noticed you were upset, she'd curl up in your lap like a guilty pup, pressing gentle kisses to your fingers and knuckles. The next day she'd show up with flowers or something pretty in hand. You told her she didn't have to do that. You knew she wasn't trying to hurt you.

But Lottie was stubborn. And after a few months of being a couple, she'd become an expert at spotting the exact moment you started to feel off—when something someone said or did twisted in your chest like a dull blade. She learned your tells: how you stiffened first, then fidgeted; how your hands would compulsively tuck your hair behind your ears, then worry at your fingers; how you sometimes chewed the inside of your cheek when the feelings were too much.

She noticed. And she was always just in time—to stop the tears, or at least soften the explosion that was already cracking through you.

Tonight was no different.

Lottie had dragged you to a bonfire organized by some of her frat friends. "Friends," because in truth, Lottie didn't like many of them. She loved gossiping about them with you. You didn't know them all that well—you were new to the group, and most of them saw you only as "Lottie's girlfriend."

And though no one ever said it aloud, they all thought you were temporary. Just another phase. Another sweet, naive girl who'd be replaced in a few months. If only they knew how Lottie was when you were alone. How obsessively she cares on you. On you in general.

Lottie told you not to worry about it. And you believed her. You had no reason not to. Sure, she'd had plenty of partners before—but that didn't matter anymore. What mattered was that Lottie wasn't the cheating type. Not when she had something she was terrified of losing.

She left you by the fire for a bit to kick a ball around with some of the others. Not that she went far. Not before wrapping you tightly in her lap and asking—ten times—if you were really okay with it. She didn't need your permission, but she wanted you to feel safe. She made sure you had your favorite beer and weren't cold (even stuffed her hoodie into your arms, despite the warm July night and the fire right in front of you), and only then stepped a few paces away.

You watched her laugh, doing ridiculous tricks with the ball. When one finally landed the way she wanted—on the hundredth try—she turned to you with a triumphant grin, checking to see that you were watching.

It could've been a nice night. The fire crackled softly. The scent of her perfume still lingered on your sleeves. You half-listened to whatever nonsense her friends were rambling about.

But they'd started drinking. Heavily. And drunk, they lost all sense of filter.

One of them—the group's resident idiot —was especially talented at spouting drunk garbage. You couldn't even remember his name. Something insanely white and basic, like Chris? Or Jack? He was the poster child for stunted boyhood, a horned-up man-child. If Lottie was occasionally insufferable, this guy was insufferable squared.

That night, you were his target. The early comments about Lottie spending too much on you, you brushed off. They sounded more like half-baked jokes than accusations.

Then it got worse.

"She tell you yet that you're just her cumdump?"

He laughed like it was the funniest thing he'd ever said. Face flushed from alcohol, voice raspy from yelling. The guy didn't seem capable of speaking at a normal volume.

You stared at him. You'd never once felt like Lottie saw you as some kind of toy—but the insult hit like a slap.

You bit your lip. That horrible tightness rose in your throat.

Unluckily for him, Lottie heard.

"Say that again, you little shit."

She was at your side in seconds, muscles taut like she was ready to throw hands. Her fists were clenched so hard her knuckles turned white. She towered over him, eyes gleaming with fury.

"Jesus, chill out, Matthews," he muttered, rolling his eyes—clearly not taking her seriously. You thought for a moment she might rip the beer bottle out of his hand and smash it over his face. But something held her back. Maybe the knowledge that you were watching. “It was a joke!”

"Oh yeah?" she snapped. Now the whole circle was watching. No one wanted to get on Lottie Matthews' bad side. Not when her father owned half the damn college. "Real fucking hilarious."

You watched, stomach in knots. His words were still echoing in your head, coiling deep inside you like rot. You shouldn't have let him get under your skin. But he had.

His smirk faded. You could almost see the moment his booze-soaked brain realized he'd royally screwed up.

"Okay, look, I'm sorry—"

Before he could finish, Lottie grabbed his collar and shoved him toward you.

He looked at you, bewildered. Lottie's glare was venomous.

"You're apologizing to me, you fucking idiot?" She shook him, hard. You didn't want a scene, not in front of everyone, but Lottie didn't care. No one got to talk to her girl like that.

He swallowed hard, then mumbled a pathetic excuse for an apology in your direction.

Lottie gave him one final shove, pushing him well away from you. Then her fingers wrapped gently around your wrist.

"Come on," she murmured. Still trembling with rage, but careful—deliberate in her gentleness. "We're going home, love."

You followed, fingers laced with hers—longer than yours, and so much warmer. Your shoes crunched over gravel as you reached the car. She opened the door, and once you were inside, insisted on buckling your seatbelt herself.

Something inside you cracked.

You tried to hold the tears back, staring fixedly at a point on the dashboard. You clenched your jaw, but Lottie noticed. She knelt beside you and kissed each of your knuckles, one by one.

"Don't let him get to you," she said softly, using the voice reserved for quiet moments between you—like when the two of you lay curled in bed at night.

At home, she had one mission: to comfort you. She practically carried you into the living room like some ridiculous knight rescuing a damsel in the distress, just to make you laugh. It didn't matter if it was at her stupidity, or because her jokes were dumb. What mattered was that you were laughing.

A fort of blankets and pillows appeared on the couch, dragged meticulously from your bedroom. She wrapped you in one like a burrito.

"Lot—" you began, smiling through your tears.

She cut you off with a kiss.

"I'm not done yet."

"You don't have t—"

"I can't hear you!"

She darted into the kitchen and returned with a mug of steaming hot chocolate, placing it triumphantly on the coffee table before burrowing into the blanket fortress with you. She tugged the blanket over your head, and you snorted softly.

"Scoot over," she grumbled, wedging herself next to you under the pile.

"You're taking up all the space," you mumbled, pretending to be annoyed, then melting into her arms.

"Sorry. It's these muscles," she sighed dramatically, reaching for the remote. "And my big—"

"Don't finish that sentence," you said with a small smile.

"Hey...!"

[dmc-tings]

It’s been a while since I requested anything off tumblr! (Hope I’m doing it right) would you kindly write dating headcanons for Vergil? ❤️❤️

(Looks right to me lmao. Also I felt like this needed a sort of into to the dating, so enjoy)

Dating Headcannons for Vergil

First of all... what did you do to get the Alpha and Omega to notice you?

He doesn't just pick anyone.

Really we think Nero's mom got lucky

It was actually through Lady you and the Blue Devil met

She brought you too the shop

HEART THROB

He just saw you from across the room

Hehe, of course Dante saw the small signs if his big brother's interest

The straighter back, smoothed out shoulders, and you can't forget the lack of him showing off his arms (that vest? Fuckin please. Dude's got arms for days.)

But you clearly weren't impressed.

It took Trish to tell him it wasn't it.

Dante was happy to laugh at his suffering

Vergil promptly stopped peacocking

But... he still didn't know how to approach you

You're... quiet. Observant.

Like himself.

For a while it was just... longful looks from him.

But then (without reason) Dante suggested that you ask Vergil about Demon stuff.

Ah. His magnum opus... of himself anyways

That's when you went over to him finally

"Lemme talk to ya."

Oha? Not so shy then. More cautious

That led to a rabbit hole (No pun) that you fell down

Eventually Vergil let you accompany him to his favorite library... the only one in Redgrave (one could assume he simply just opened a portal to where he wanted)

And you? You took him to little quaint cafe's, or parks that didn't have too many people

Nook and cranny or hole in the wall places that didn't have people staring at him

He adored it

Mostly because he wasn't bothered

But your company, more over the private time with you, allowed him to see you

And he's a hopeless romantic.

So the day he asked you to be his (and only his) you gave him a sweet kiss... on the cheek

Gave ya mans the "butterflies" and he went home red eared

(Here are the relationship stuff)

Vergil... is horribly like a demon. He spent so many years in Hell or under Mundus' brainwashing, he's more devil than human

He... like a giant cat, he leaves dead devils heads or limbs at your doorstep.

You had to SCOLD him for it

He was, unreasonably, pissed. That wasn't good enough?

His "rizzlord" of a brother tried to help

It did not go well

Between the awkward "ayo girl's" or the tragic "Call me Mr Flintstone, cause I can make yo bed rock" (which Vergil didn't even know what the fuck that meant)

You told him "Verge. Stop listening to your brother. Anyone else would have called the police on you."

Dante got a proper beating that day

So Vergil eventually said fuck it and started to read those cheesy romance books

Things turned around then

Flowers. Chocolates. Your favorite foods.

A more normal human relationship

He is chivalrous

Fast to open doors for you, or pull out your chair

And a fast fist to anyone who makes you uncomfortable

He just can tell ok?

A little bit too close to him? Or an avoidant stare?

He's all action. No verbal warning.

YOU noticed the signs of him ready to swing

It's lighting fast. His eye twitches, and a head swivel. When he finds the target you have maybe second to grab him.

You usually are too slow though.

A sickening crack and someone is sleep

And it ain't neither of you

Vergil also likes to cook

Yes. Human food.

Superb sense of taste, he can almost tell you exactly what's in a dish

So asking him for something specific is easy. (I like to think he's kinda like Ignis from FFXV)

Sorry. But intimacy is a challenge to him

He's really like a cat

He'll come to you when he's ready

It's usually slow, heavy and careful steps

Visually cautious

"May I sit with you?"

Of course you don't deny- why did he sit so far away

He's like on the far end of the couch

Give him an hour

He slowly scoots closer

But... there about a 4 inches away from you

He does this so you can choose to close the distance

You usually do.

Hehe red ears.

He doesn't let his face heat up, but his ears. Hims ears always burn up

And then the small cocky grin he gives himself. Satisfaction

With that you basically tell him it's ok to grab you up

In his lap

Mf will fall asleep with you like this

Ah.

No one thought he'd have a safe haven in you

[ellastone-olsen]

Would it be possible if you could do a g!p wandanat x female reader with sex pollen?? Its okay if you cant, just an idea if you have nothing else to write🫣🤭

Blue glow - WandaNat

DO NOT COPY ANY OF MY WORKS. MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY

Summary: Curiosity and alien flowers work wonders.

Pairing: G!PWandaNat × fem!R

Warnings:NSWF,SMUT SMUT SMUT, handjob, blowjob, breeding kink, threesome, cockwarming, dirty talk, after care

DISCLAIMER: ENGLISH ISN’T MY FIRST LANGUAGE SORRY FOR GRAMMAR OR SPELLING MISTAKES

Word count: 1.7k

AN: hi anon! I’m glad to see my first request thank you! honestly, until that moment I didn’t know what sex pollen is and I had to turn to google lmao

"What is that?." You asked looking at the strange plant in the pot. "Have you decided to take up gardening? Tony, I thought you weren't old enough to act like my grandma." You stop laughing when the man looks at you sternly, apparently not appreciating the jokes about his age. “This, by the way, is a plant unknown to science (at least on Earth), which I personally grew from seeds strictly for research and not what you just said.” “Okay let’s say it’s like this, let me take a closer does it smell like something?” You also kept a couple of cacti in your room at the Avengers headquarters, which recently bloomed by the way. As soon as you stood up and approached to the pot, a man blocked your way. “Are you crazy, what did I just say? Don’t touch this thing, I don’t know if it’s poisonous or not.” You looked at him sternly and muttered under your breath so that he could also hear, “You said not to touch, not to smell.” The attempt failed.

late Friday evening. Everyone went to their rooms or left the headquarters altogether. There was silence everywhere, only the sounds of Wanda’s steps were heard somewhere in the corridor. The woman had almost reached her destination when she saw some kind of blue glow in the darkness, “What the fuck...”. She came closer and examined some kind of plant that vaguely resembled a flycatcher, but with more spherical “traps.” Then she suddenly remembered...

“Y/N, Natasha, come here let’s hurry up. Y/N, you told me about something in Tony’s office. Check it out, Natasha take a look too.” Apparently the witch was very impressed by the flower, because she excitedly pulled both of you by the hands towards the light source. And where did she get this passion for flora…

“Wanda, we were already getting ready to go to bed, what did you see there?” Nat suddenly fell silent, looking at the strange light. “Did you seriously drag me out of bed for this succulent or what is this?!” She clearly did not share the witch's interest. “Oh, you’re right, this is the flower I told you about. Tony takes such good care of it, and apparently it’s...bloomed? Let’s take a closer and look, it’s cool,” Nat rolled her eyes but followed you two. You raised your face to the flower, wanting to look at it, when suddenly... the ball of the bud opened releasing pollen into the air, apparently from which the light came.

There is absolutely everything around in this stuff, you can hear Natasha’s exclamations: “Don’t breathe in this, it can be poisonous. Damn it, I told you not to come here.” The three of you cough, covering your faces, and go out into the corridor, shaking yourself and each other from the remaining dust. “Now you make me need to take a shower again.” The woman grumbles something else while Wanda calms her down, you also want to answer, but suddenly this feeling comes.

If there was a mirror in front of you right now, you could appreciate how quickly your pupils are dilating, as if you were a drug addict on a high (technically you were), beads of sweat are rolling off your forehead and this pulsation between your legs is as if you were given a dose of an aphrodisiac multiplied by five times. Oh no this is definitely not normal, you need to tell Wanda and Natasha what is happening apparently because of this cute glowing flower. While you were in your thoughts you didn't notice how the swearing died down and both women also noticed the changes.

When you turned your head, you saw two women looking at you with hunger and tents in their pants. Your mouth watered at the sight of the obvious bulge on both of your girlfriends and you impatiently walked over to Wanda, clinging to her like a lifeline. "Oh God, I don't know what it is, but I need you both so bad." Natasha came up from behind, pressing her rock-hard dick to your ass, her arms wrapped around your waist and the redhead’s whisper was heard in your ear. "Oh don't worry baby you'll get what you want.Damn I'm going to die if I don't fill your pretty pussy at least twice. What do you think Wanda?"

You feel the soft material of the sheets as they throw you on the bed, watching as they take off their clothes and look at you as if you were their prey. Your own panties are already hopelessly ruined, lub flows down your thighs at the sight of your girlfriends.

You quickly take of your clothes after which Nat takes you in her arms, pressing a kiss on your lips, you feel her cock poking into your stomach and dripping with pre-cum. Wanda, meanwhile stands behind stroking her length at this spectacle. "Mmm..Nat please." You rock your hips to rub against her cock, but you are suddenly pulled to your feet and forced to your knees.

"No no, first you're going to take every inch of my dick into your mouth, baby." The tip of her cock pressed against your lips and you obediently open your mouth and shake your head along entire length. Wanda can’t just watch anymore and comes up to you, takes your hand and places it on her pulsating length. "Come on baby, jerk off Wanda you can't leave either of us needy. Damn Wanda her mouth feels so good around me. That's such a good cocksucker." You move your hand and rub your thumb over Wanda's sensitive red tip as she begins to rock into your hand. Tears well up in your eyes when Natasha grabs your hair and shuts your mouth. Wanda helps you jerk her off and grins, “What is it baby girl? Is Nat’s dick too big for you? You’re so beautiful, now I want to cum all over your face.”

Natasha began to shamelessly fuck your mouth, running after her orgasm, the head of her dick hitting the back wall of your throat every time. "That's itmbaby, I'm going to cum in your beautiful fucking mouth and you'll swallow every drop. Wanda, are you close? Cum with me." Your hand was thrown away so that Wanda could jerk herself off, cumming all over your face, ropes of Natasha's cum hit your throat and you breathed through your nose as you swallowed every drop as you were told.

You took a deep breath as the redhead pulled out of your mouth and wiped Wanda's release off your face. When you were lifted from the floor, a small puddle of your arousal remained on it, your legs did not obey and your knees were red. You were already dripping and the pitiful whining and pleas left your mouth without hindrance. “Please it hurts so much, I need you to fuck me so bad.”

"What do you think Wanda, I think she deserves to have you fill her pussy." The witch got off with a simple nod as her two strong hands forced you onto all fours on the bed, allowing her to position herself behind you so she could start pounding into you without warning. "God Nat, her pussy was made for my cock, so greedy and tight. You need to see how well she takes me." Nat, meanwhile, spat on her hand for extra lub and stroked her red sensitive tip, appreciating how good the two of you looked. The long-awaited feeling of filling and Wanda’s quick thrusts drove you crazy, you put your hand under you, stimulating your swollen clit. "Yes yes thank you thank you so good fuck I'm gonna cum can I cum?" You know that with the tip of Wanda’s cock deliciously hitting that nice spot inside you, you wouldn’t last long, and having received approval, a minute later the orgasm hit you with incredible force. "Oh yes Y/N you squeeze my cock so well. Oh my God, cum for me like that, cum all over my length." The witch praised you.

You were turned over again and your back touched the cool sheets. Wanda pounding into you hearing a cute whine from your mouth, "Too sensitive. It's too much." "Oh baby girl you can take it. I need to filled this tight pussy so badly. You want my cum inside don't you? Do you love this cock?" "Yes yes I love so fucking much!". Natasha continued to jerk herself off when a cute little idea popped into her head that she only bothered to tell the witch about. The women looked at each other and Wanda nodded in approval of the plan.

The witch's thrusts became faster and she exploded, releasing her load inside you. “Oh yeah baby fuck take all my cum!” The feeling of fullness and how good it was, was the only thing you could think about. Wanda, meanwhile, pulled out of you, giving way to the redhead. Natasha turned you around, taking you by the hips and jerking off her cock, she stuck only the tip inside you, filling you even more. "Oh fuck fuck I'm so full fuck Natasha!" “That’s it my little greedy girl, I know you love it when I fill you up .” The only sounds in the room were heavy sighs and Nat's little whining as she pulled out and looked at the beautiful picture in front of her.

You were lying on your shared bed, Wanda took napkins from the nightstand and carefully wiped all the liquids from your thighs, kissing you and telling you how good you are and how much she loves you. When the witch finished, Natasha threw a robe over your naked body, picked you up, kissing your cheeks and carried you to the bathroom so they could both take care of you the way you truly deserve.

Sitting in a hot bubble bath, you asked, “How do we tell Tony about the pollen effect of his science experiment?”

[mypoisonedvine]

“YOU SENT ME PICTURES OF YOU NAKED WHILE I WAS IN A WORK MEETING!” with neil lewis? 😏

oh my god not me seeing the notification which just said "anon asked YOU SENT ME PICTURES OF YOU NAKED" and being so concerned and confused lmao like who has naked pics of me

BUT ANYWAYS. neil my beloved. (i didnt use the exact dialogue from the prompt just like the concept)

warnings: 18+ only!! SMUT!!!, rough sex, some degradation, some hair pulling, punishment but like it's not that serious, facial, established relationship

"The fuck were you thinking?" he spat, one hand pulling down your pants while the other kept you bent over the end of the couch.

I was thinking you'd come right home and beat it up like it owes you money, you thought, and it looks like I was right.

"Wasn't thinking," you answered quickly instead, arching your back as he yanked your underwear out of the way and roughly shoved two fingers into you. "Fuck!"

"Oh, that's too much?" he scoffed. "Cause you wanted a whole lot more than this, didn't you? You were just texting me while I was at work about how-- what did you say exactly-- how you wanted my thick cock stretching you open?"

"Y-yeah, something like that," you mumbled with a smirk-- as much as you could smirk with your face pressed into the sofa cushion.

"So two fingers shouldn't be a problem," he decided, "and you're fucking soaked, too-- even more than in that picture you sent. Fuck, babe, somebody could've seen--"

"Did they?" you asked coyly.

"You say it like you almost wish they had," he noticed. "Are you that much of a slut, you want the guys at the store to see you like that?"

"N-no, but it would be kinda hot if you got caught," you admitted. "If they knew why you rushed home, if they knew how bad I need you..."

"Well, I don't know about them," he decided as he took his fingers out and began to open his jeans, "but the neighbors are sure as hell gonna know who's giving it to you."

He made good on that promise within a few minutes-- if not just from the way you screamed his name as he fucked you so hard, then from your couch scraping across the floor from how brutally he slammed into you.

"This what you wanted?" he taunted proudly, holding you down and watching you nod quickly. "You're such a tease-- getting me turned on at work like that, I shouldn't be giving you what you want-- but fuck, I want you too. I was hard as a fucking rock as soon as you sent me that, you're so fuckin' dirty, babe..."

"Gonna come," you admitted with a gasp. "Fuck, Neil, baby, m'gonna fucking come--"

"Then do it," he snapped, hips clapping on your ass as he went even faster. "Fucking come, come for me--"

Your back arched but he kept your head down; you sobbed loudly, more than enough to be heard through your apartment's thin walls, but you didn't care at all. Digging your fingers into the couch cushions under you, you felt everything in your body tense up all at once as heady pleasure coursed through you. Even knowing how needy you'd been-- you wouldn't have texted him something like that for nothing-- it had hit you faster than you expected.

You thought he might mock you for it, but he didn't, and a few seconds later you realized why: because he was in no place to judge.

You whimpered a little when he pulled out, even moreso when he tugged on your hair a bit. "Get up, get on your knees," he ordered quickly as he stepped back, "gonna cover that pretty face."

It was harder than it sounded, you were so fucked out and not especially balanced, but you did as you were told, crouching down and kneeling in front of him as he stroked his cock quickly.

"Knew you could be a good girl," he praised, "fuck, hold still--"

You weren't really moving much, but he still grabbed onto your hair and used it to hold your face where he wanted as he jerked off over it-- and he came with a deep groan and warm ropes that covered your face. You hummed happily, flinching and shutting one eye at some point when it his come almost landed on it, but waited patiently until he'd squeezed the last drop out and tapped it on your lips. He looked so damn good like that: a little sweaty and a lot disheveled, catching his breath with his lips slack and his eyes heavy.

"Fuck," he said lowly one more time, admiring how well he'd ruined you. "Stay right there. I think it's my turn to take a picture."

[starkspondwater]

Could you write something about Kyle x Shy!reader having their first time 👉👈? And its really fluffy, like giggling when things get awkward, some afftercare, and other cute shit like this😭

(Imagine the guys hyping him up and shit the day after cuz they found out, and not becouse he told them, he just didn't know how to hide his scrached back in locker room lmao)

Oh yes I could! I also desperately need you to know that I gathered first time stories from all my friends to figure out what to put in here. There is TRUTH in these words.

I will say this was going to be just fluff but it's been a hot minute since I've written smut for Kyle and my hands have their own mind when they write

Summary: Firsts can be exciting! They can be invigorating! They can also be…awkward? Surely it's nothing you and Kyle couldn't handle…(SMUT)

Word Count: 3046

Warnings: protected sex, loss of virginity

Firsts- Kyle Broflovski x Shy!Reader

Firsts. The moments in life where one enters the unknown, mind full of excitement and trepidation. Memories that no matter how many years passed would remain in your mind like they had only just happened.

You remember the first time you made a friend, giddy and pleased to find that someone shared the same interests. You remember the first time you rode a bike by yourself, nerves making those knobby knees buckle before you finally felt the freedom of wind on your face. You even remember your first crush, adolescence turning teenage angst into beauty in front of your very eyes.

You didn't experience those more romantic firsts until a little later in life. Being a bit more reserved, it had been difficult to take those initial steps into the limelight, allowing yourself to open up to others in such a way. The few times you attempted had been met with frustration directed at you for not matching their own speed, as if your own thoughts and feelings were not even spared a consideration on the matter.

Those firsts you chose not to think about. A first kiss that left you feeling awkward, as though you were nothing but a doll to practice on. First touches that had you twisting away because you felt pushed too far. A first boyfriend that did nothing but complain that you were too meek, that his presence alone should've fixed that flaw of yours.

All you needed was patience, but that was hard to come by.

When you met Kyle it had been under less than ideal circumstances. A busy Monday morning had you rushing to exit the coffee shop, your body narrowly missing one person only to collide with a body right outside the door. Coffee flew from your cup right onto the handsome man you had so rudely run into and drenching the blue button up he had worn.

As the apologies rushed out, words tumbling over one another in panic, all the redhead had done was help you up and give a gentle smile. 

It’s alright, no harm no foul but I can't say the same for your coffee. Can I get you another?

You weren't sure why he had been so kind to you after that, paying for your drink and walking you out to your car, but the act of it was enough to bring a fluttering to your belly. Then when he had knocked on the window and motioned for you to roll it down, a part of you was actually excited, not scared, as he sheepishly asked for your number. There was just something about him that gave you a good feeling. A first.

Kyle was a different sort of man, you quickly realized. He was a unique personality with hard angles and clean edges, but there was a softness he held when it came to you. In that warmth he had you in you almost didn't realize how comfortable you had become.

Suddenly those firsts were all you could think about. The first time making out in the back of a car, the light from the drive-in-movie flickering across the seats. The first time allowing yourself to let loose with him, the two of you belting out of tune song lyrics around the kitchen late at night. The first “I love you” shared on an average Sunday afternoon, sweet words so natural it was as if you had always felt them.

You were thankful that Kyle had been so patient with you. He had allowed this relationship to progress at your own pace and abide by your unspoken rules. Each new step you took had been the same, filled with anticipation and excitement, however this next one felt incredibly different. 

Sex was something you had only ever thought about in concept, so to actually sleep with someone was a terrifying thought. It was a large step for you, but in a way you felt ready to take that leap so long as it was with Kyle. The only issue was actually bringing it up.

Movies and TV painted sex as something ethereal, something so full of inherent magic that to screw it up would be some sort of sin. As a small child you recall sneaking peeks at those scenes from in between your mother fingers, a not quite impenetrable shield to protect little eyes.

The act of intimacy was so natural on the screen, no words ever needed to get things in motion. So why was this so hard?

So you had started letting those lingering touches stay where they were during those intimate moments, hopeful that his hands would begin to wander over to more sensitive areas. You had tried dressing a little lighter, showing more skin than you ever had. At one point you had even tried to subtly maneuver your hand onto his leg, inching towards his lap, face blazing in heat at being so bold. However, every time without fail Kyle wouldn't notice or he'd simply happen to move away.

Kyle on the other hand was pretty happy with himself. He had a good job, a nice life, and a lovely partner to share it all with. You were shy and sweet, and everything just seemed to fall into place with you. 

You had been hesitant from the beginning, something he picked up on almost immediately from that very first date. Unlike some of his friends, he hadn't had the most experience. Stan, Kenny, and even Cartman had teased him about it in a (mostly) friendly way, but regardless he couldn't feel ashamed about that fact. He wanted to share that piece of himself with someone he felt strongly for, which for him was you.

So he happily waited. He didn't mind the slow way you opened yourself up to him nor how long it took for you to grow comfortable with his touches. Every moment was just another line in the story for you two, one he’d leisurely read without a single complaint.

Imagine his surprise when one night as he was sifting through DVD’s to watch you blurted out that you wanted to have sex.

“Are you…sure?” it wasn’t like he didn’t want to do it, after all he had urges just like everyone else. He just figured it would’ve taken you much longer before you got to that step in the relationship.

“I’ve been thinking about it for a while and I don’t want to wait anymore…I want it to happen with you.”

Kyle could feel a grin growing on his face hearing that you had the same line of thinking as him. You trusted and wanted him just as he did you, and while he could infer that just based on how you acted, hearing it was another thing entirely. 

That was how the two of you found yourselves under his sheets, movies long forgotten and abandoned on the floor. 

Grabbing the bottom hem of his shirt, Kyle pulled it over head and stumbled, the fabric catching in his curls. With a curse he got it off, red splotching his cheeks. Well…not the best way to start things off, he thought. He tried to steer his gaze away as he heard you undress, clothing gently hitting the floor by the bed, but as he felt you shift he couldn’t stop from trailing his eyes along the bare legs that disappeared under the thin sheet covering your body. 

If Kyle was feeling a little nervous about this, he was sure you were much worse off. The midnight colored sheet was grasped tightly to your chest, a lifeline as you tried to keep calm. He could see the slight tremble of your shoulders and the goosebumps rising on the skin of your arms. He supposed the first time was supposed to be like this, all nerves and anxiety, but if he could lessen that a little bit for you then he would. Placing a hand on your shoulder soothingly, Kyle smiled. 

“If you don’t want to do this, we really don’t have to. I’m fine watching a movie or whatever you want to-” Soft lips briefly interrupted him, pressed hard and determined against his own. He felt as those little hands of your lightly tugged at his arms, bringing him closer to you. You were not going to chicken out of this. Pulling back, you kept your resolve.

“Could you help me with my bra?” It was a daring question from you, but the sensual scenes you had seen before played in your mind. Undressing each other was all a part of the romance.

Bringing his lips to your own, your teeth knocked together uncomfortably.

“Shit, sorry!” he whispered, mouth twitching as he leaned back in, much slower this time.

Sweet kisses held you in place, breaths mingling in the tiny space between your mouths as he carefully lifted the sheet around you. His thumb lightly grazed the underside of your bust feeling the pattern of lace as it wandered past that curve and towards your back. When his fingers made contact with the tough hooks you felt him get to work. 

Oh you have to be fucking kidding me.

A few seconds passed, then a few more. He had easily gotten part of it unhooked but the rest felt absolutely stuck. Kyle had to stop himself from tugging rougher like he wanted to, not wanting to tear the damn thing that he was sure cost a pretty penny. With each little movement he huffed into your mouth, irritation growing. After a few more tries you took pity on the boy, one hand moving back and deftly undoing the rest of it. 

Kyle didn't even have time to feel embarrassed as the straps slid down your shoulders, baring you to him. His cock stirred, and with an audible gulp he turned away.

Reaching over to his nightstand Kyle grabbed a newly opened box of condoms ready to use. Flushing, you watched him pull off his boxers, eyes averting themselves to your covered lap. Your nose crinkled slightly at the smell of latex and all too soon Kyle was turned towards you, his lips twitching upwards.

“So…” he trailed off, hands grabbing the sheet at his waist. “Should we, uh, get started?”

“Y-yeah, I suppose so…” 

Kyle, for what it was worth, was not completely uneducated in the ways of sex. He was a teenager at one point and had access to the internet. He had friends that told anything and everything like it was the daily news. He also had a mother that didn’t know the meaning of TMI and had made sure her sons weren’t dunces.

You felt as his hand slid under the sheet, the skin of your thighs warm to his touch as he made his way between them. As gently as he could he made contact with your folds, moving slowly and intently, watching your face for any sign that you wanted to stop. 

It felt strange, but as he continued the light tingling you felt turned to something much more pleasant. You quietly thanked whoever above that your boyfriend was good at reading body language, because every time he adjusted his hand those little touches just got better and better, your back arching slightly as he hit that small bundle of nerves. 

Kyle took his time, feeling you grow more and more slick. When he finally figured that you might be sufficiently ready, he moved himself between your legs and hovered above you. This was it. 

You felt his length poke the side of your thighs as he tried to guide it into you, each time just barely missing. Eyebrows scrunched together as he prodded, each time only serving to wipe the oily lube from the condom into your skin. 

Seeing that color bloom on those cheeks in frustration was kind of cute, his face locked in concentration as though he had been working on some difficult equation. It made you feel better, lighter even. This was a first for the both of you and you needed a little grace as you fumbled along. Rubbing a thumb along his jaw, you hoped that assurance was felt.

“Jesus, I’m so sorry, I’m just a little…What?” Kyle paused at your laughter, light and tinkling in the quiet of his bedroom. 

“Just…You're as nervous as I am!” laughing a little more, you leaned up, grazing a kiss to his red cheek. “I think you need to be just a little lower.”

Kyle found himself tittering along with you, the unease he had begun to feel quickly falling away. 

“I just want it to be good for you, y’know?” Shaking his head, he adjusted himself once more, finding an almost natural slope downward that had his stomach twisting.

When he pushed against your entrance you gasped, the sensation so odd and foreign you could almost disregard the small sting as he gently pushed in. He moved slowly, hoping that it gave you time to grow used to the feeling of being stretched all while he tried to hold in his own groan. You were so warm and snug around him, but he would be damned if he only thought of himself.

With each miniscule thrust, your body accommodating his own with more ease, it started to feel really good. As he slowly dragged his cock out and pumped it back in you found yourself getting lost in the feeling, nerves completely fading out of existence and replaced with an increasing need for more. 

Kyle couldn’t take it any more, his pace growing faster and faster as his pleasure wrapped around him. The feeling of your nails digging into his back was starting to drive him wild, scratches only adding to how wonderful it felt to actually be inside you. Every little whimper, every little gasp, every single moan wound its way around his head and shot directly down to his groin. God, he could just-

“Oh, fuck!” Eyes squeezing shut he felt his release, muscles tightening as he leaned into it your warmth. As every burst sprayed the inside of the condom he shook, those last few thrusts almost too much. Once he had actually finished spilling himself did the shame take over. 

“S-sorry for being too quick…” his head hung down, ginger curls brushing your shoulder. Fingers worked through them as he felt a small rumble from your chest, laugher bubbling forth. Bringing his head back up he was met with a gorgeous sight.

Your face had taken on a lovely hue, the look of bliss evident on your delicate features. It was an expression he hadn't yet experienced on you, but seeing it now he felt pride knowing he had caused it. 

“It was really really great, Kyle” your laughter quieted as you observed the way his cheeks flushed, “and it's only the first time. It only gets better from here, right?”

“Are you saying you'd want to go again?” With a smirk he watched your eyes widen and lips part. 

“But I thought you already…?”

“I mean I probably need a little bit but I could definitely go again! Unless you don't want to?”  Your only answer was an eager smooch, hands dragging him back down onto the mattress.

The second time around was just as sweet, if not with a little less fumbling.

_____

It was hot and the game was ‘shirts vs skins,’ the lone basketball sitting over in the middle of the blacktop. Kyle was unfortunate enough to be placed on skins and his mind was already wondering just how bad his sunburn would be by the end of it.

Wrenching his shirt off he grabbed his phone and checked his notifications, smiling when he saw that he had a nice little text from you.

Y/N 💕: have a good time today! i love you! 

The night before had been a dream. Even with the few missteps that had happened, Kyle wouldn't have changed it for anything. Even before things had been wonderful but now he felt impossibly closer to you, like some barrier had toppled down.

Personally, he couldn't stop thinking about afterwards, the quiet intimacy you both shared as your bodies cooled just as sweet. He worried about how you'd take everything, not wanting you to end up too sore, and made it a point to take care of you the best he could. As it ended up, with gentle caresses and soft words, you took care of him too.

Fingers moving quick to respond, Kyle heard chortling behind him. Turning, he noticed several pairs of eyes directed at him. Or more so a part of him.

“What the hell are you guys looking at?” 

“Kyle, my boy, my pal, my main man, you didn't tell us you got laid!” Kenny jammed an elbow into his ribs, a sly grin growing bigger as he spoke. “And judging by your back you did a hell of a job!”

Kyle craned his neck, trying to see just what Kenny was talking about only to realize just how dumb he probably looked. As the boys continued snickering, Stan snapped a photo to show his friend. 

There on his pale skin were long red marks trailing from about the bottom of his shoulder blades upward, about 8 in total though some were lighter than others. 

“Well,” Stan lugged an arm around his shoulders, bringing Kyle down to his height, “I didn't think Y/N had it in her.”

“You know what they say about the silent ones, absolute freaks in the sheets,” Cartman shouted out from his place on the benches, “ain't that right, Kahl?!”

“Shut the fuck up! And you guys don't need to know those things!” Ears turning bright red, Kyle tossed his phone down and shoved his way to the court. “So are we playing or not?”

Throughout the game his friend gave him looks of pride as well as the occasional pat on the back. It embarrassed him to no end that they found out the way they did, but he couldn't help but find the fact that he was wearing evidence of your pleasure on him entirely too hot to even care. 

Perhaps he'd have to aim for that sort of reaction every time.

[lanawinterscigarettes]

Off Limits (poly Non-Judging Breakfast Club x gn reader)

Summary: your partners aren't too thrilled when Vanessa gets you alone at a party you're attending

Warnings: Vanessa is a little obsessed with the reader (and plots to break them up with their partners to be with them), the reader briefly smokes a cigarette, they/them pronouns used to refer to the reader in a gender neutral manner, jealousy/slightly possessive behavior, suggestive stuff at the end

A/N: this was a request for a jealous njbc that kind of got off track and spiraled into something else so that's why I'm not responding to the ask with this lmao, I plan on writing something different for that

Everyone in the Upper East Side knew who you belonged to, from the prep school kids to their parents to the tabloids. Even Gossip Girl herself posted the occasional blast about catching you in the arms of one of your many lovers, something the drama-hungry scavengers of the city greedily ate up as though it were their last meal.

Most people knew better than to mess with you because of this, not wanting to deal with the wrath of your partners by making you upset, even if it was by accident. Anyone who did would immediately find themselves in hot water with no one to help fish them out.

Of course, Vanessa Abrams was not most people. She was from Brooklyn. She was edgy, she was cool, she was the manic pixie dream girl from hell who could be either your sweet dream or your worst nightmare. Or something like that. It seemed as though that's how she saw herself, at least.

Obviously you'd be willing to make an exception for her, right? I mean, Blair definitely hated her, and Chuck automatically disliked anyone Blair did out of principle, and she did kind of go out with Nate at one point, but still. At least Serena was somewhat friendly, and that had to stand for something.

Plus, you were good friends with Dan, even though your partners weren't all too thrilled about it. She didn't know for sure that you'd fooled around with him, but there was always a slight chance of that happening, and if it could happen with him then maybe it could happen with her, too.

Was she obsessed with you? No, of course not... Okay, maybe a little. You were certainly much nicer than anyone else on the Upper East Side, even with the slight bit of snark you always portrayed whenever you had to be around someone you didn't like. Still, it was better than nothing.

She figured the best way to spend some time with you would be at some kind of fancy event the Upper East Side was famous for throwing, where hopefully your partners would be distracted long enough for her to get you alone. Dan was obviously invited as your best friend, which meant she felt like it was okay for her to tag along. (It was not.)

"Dan, it's so great to see you!" She heard your cheerful voice ring out the moment they'd stepped inside, you pulling him in for a warm and friendly hug before turning your attention to her. "Oh, I didn't know you'd be bringing Vanessa."

You seemed a bit apprehensive at her presence, but that was probably just because you knew the trouble it would stir up by her being there. Dan looked nervous for the same reason.

"Uh, yeah. I mentioned it earlier and she said that she wanted to come so I figured what's the harm, right?" He let out an awkward laugh while rubbing the back of his neck, fully aware that bringing her might not have been his best decision.

"Well, I have to go check on a few things, but it was so nice seeing you both. Enjoy yourselves, okay?" You gave the two a bright smile before disappearing off into the crowd of people.

"I'm gonna go get us a drink. Stay here and don't get into any trouble," Dan said a moment or so later, leaving her by herself. That was fine, as she didn't expect him to stay with her for very long. Now all she needed to do was find you again.

Vanessa searched the sea of people, spotting you over by one of the tables with Blair and Dan. The brunette had her arm linked with yours, a subtle reminder to everyone there you were already taken. Blair glanced over in Vanessa's direction, her eyes narrowing as they caught the sight of her. It appeared as though Queen B wasn't too happy to see her.

That was fine, everything was fine, Vanessa quietly reassured herself as she looked away, trying to make it seem like she wasn't staring just now. She'd just have to catch up with you a little later when you were alone.

Dan returned after another moment or so with their drinks, handing her a glass as he surveyed the people there. "I swear I was just talking with a guy who's new car cost more money upfront than it would be to put a down payment on a house," he mused with a shake of his head.

She merely shrugged and took a sip of her cocktail before replying. "Welcome to the Upper East Side."

No sooner had she said that did Serena appear with Nate. "Hey, Dan! Blair told us you were here," the blonde greeted, seeming just as bubbly as she usually did (though the alcohol that was certainly in her system probably helped with that).

"Yeah, we showed up a few minutes ago," he explained while Vanessa just sort of stood there awkwardly, averting her gaze as she tried to avoid making direct eye contact with Nate. You know, her ex.

"I was surprised to see you here. I didn't think you liked these kind of events, Vanessa," Nate spoke up suddenly, causing her face to heat up as she realized they must've known she wasn't just there to socialize.

"I just thought I'd try to get out of my comfort zone a little," she lied while doing her best to keep it cool, not wanting to seem nervous. Despite that, Nate could clearly see right through her facade, even if Serena couldn't.

"Well, I hope you have fun," Serena replied with another cheery grin before tugging her boyfriend away from them, most likely off to either make out or get another drink.

Vanessa excused herself to go to the bathroom shortly after, needing some fresh air. God, she had to get a grip. There's no way her plan of seducing you would work properly if she kept stressing herself out over it.

She was fixing her hair in the mirror when the sound of voices began to carry from down the nearby hall, which prompted her to hide in one of the stalls so she could eavesdrop in on the conversation.

"I'm telling you, she's not just here because she wants to 'socialize'," the voice of Blair spoke, her heels clacking furiously against the marble flooring as she entered the bathroom. "She's here for a reason, and I'm going to find out what it is."

"Okay, B, don't you think that maybe you're being a little bit paranoid?" Serena's voice said next, her walking sounding much more relaxed and at ease compared to the brunette that came in before her. "Maybe she really just does want to have some fun here, did you ever think about that?"

Blair scoffed at the suggestion. "If she wants to have fun, she can do it in her own city, away from here. Brooklyn is much more her speed, anyway." It was quiet for a moment, as if she was trying to either collect her thoughts or check how she looked in the mirror, most likely both. "Besides, she's been staring all night. At us. That's not just for no reason, I'm certain of it."

"Okay, why don't you take a deep breath and try to relax, alright? Let's get you another drink, maybe that'll help you calm down some," Serena said while attempting to keep her best friend/girlfriend reigned in. "Come on, I'll go with you."

The other woman responded with a grumble of "fine" before allowing herself to be led out of the bathroom, the sound of their retreating footsteps like music to Vanessa's ears. She couldn't stay much longer, she knew that much. Not when they were already starting to catch onto her plan so soon.

Once she was certain they were really gone, she exited the stall and left the bathroom, hoping her disappearance hadn't been noticed as that would only add onto their suspicions. She thought she was in the clear to slip back into the party where she could act as if she'd been there all along when she bumped into someone, quite literally.

"Oh- excuse me," she apologized, her green eyes widening the moment she noticed that it was you.

"No worries!" You simply laughed it off, the appearance of your dazzling pearly whites sending a shiver down her spine, in a good way. "I was just about to head out onto one of the balconies for a cigarette break, perhaps you'd like to join me?"

Her heart stuttered in her chest at that. You wanted to be alone with her? On the balcony, of all places? That could only mean one of two things: you were either going to kiss her, or attempt to push her off. Still, it was a risk she was willing to take.

"Y- Yeah, sure! I'd love to," she replied with a grin of her own, quickly following after you out onto one of the many balconies there. Maybe things would work out tonight after all.

Unbeknownst to her, however, Georgina Sparks of all people happened to be watching the whole thing from a distance. If there was one thing that girl loved, it was stirring up trouble, and what better way to do it than by telling the four people who practically ran the Upper East Side that their precious little darling had slipped away with one of their biggest enemies?

"Hello Blair, Chuck," she purred out when approaching them, a Chesire cat-like grin on her face.

Both of them had visibly displeased looks on their faces at her sudden appearance. "Don't you have anyone else you can bother?" Blair grumbled with an eye roll.

Georgina just ignored her. "Where's Nate and Serena? They should be present to hear this, too."

"Hear what?" The Golden Boy himself questioned while approaching, Serena clinging onto him as they made their way over. She was already tipsy, by the looks of it. Big surprise there.

"Well, it's really none of my business-" she began in an innocent tone, purposely acting coy just to irritate them further. "-but I would've thought the four of you would want to pay better attention to your shared pet."

That certainly got their attention, as they knew full well she was referring to you. A shared look passed between them before Chuck spoke up. "What are you talking about?" He demanded, already not liking where this was going.

Georgina, on the other hand, was thrilled by how on edge they were already. "I mean, hanging out with the Humphreys is one thing, but Vanessa Abrams of all people? I thought you had them on a tighter leash than that."

Their reaction was exactly what she hoped it would be. Chuck's jaw was clenched so tightly he looked ready to crack a tooth, Nate's brow was furrowed in confusion, and Serena's jaw was dropped in disbelief. The only one who didn't seem entirely shocked by this new information was Blair, whose eyes were narrowed in the oncomings of rage.

"I knew we couldn't trust her," she hissed out, giving Serena a pointed look that had the blonde shutting her mouth instantly. "Where are they?" She demanded while turning her attention back towards Georgina, who looked far too pleased at their anger.

"Probably still out on the balcony where I saw them disappear off to a moment ago," she stated with a shrug, picking up a drink from off a nearby waiter's tray and taking a sip.

That worried the four more than anything else. Vanessa could be fairly crafty when she wanted to be, and you were far too nice to realize when someone was trying to use you.

Meanwhile, you were indeed still out on the balcony just like Georgina had said, casually smoking a cigarette while Vanessa debated just how to move the topic of conversation away from small talk and towards "Would you like to have sex with me?"

"So-" she began before cutting herself off, not quite sure what exactly she'd planned to say after that. Before she could try to speak again, however, you beat her to it.

"I'm glad Dan has you as a friend," you said sincerely, glancing over at her while you spoke. "I mean, sure, he's friends with me, but it's good that there's someone in his life who isn't from the Upper East Side that he can relate to."

That was probably one of the last things she expected you to say, but it was pretty on brand for you so she decided to just roll with it. "R- Right, I definitely agree with you there." God, why couldn't she get a grip and stop being so nervous?

It probably had something to do with how she knew at any given moment your partners could burst out onto the balcony and snatch you away from her again. She was a bit surprised it hadn't been done already, in all honesty.

"You know, I think you two would make a really cute couple," you added while tilting your head slightly in her direction, carefully making sure to blow out the smoke from your cigarette away from her. You were always so considerate like that, but your words made her brow furrow a bit in confusion.

Did you really think they'd make a cute couple, her and Dan? Or were you just trying to be nice? Or were you somehow aware of the massive crush she had on you, and this was your way of trying to let her down easy?

"Actually-" she began hesitantly, knowing if she was going to try to win you over it would be now or never. Of course it was just then that the doors to the balcony opened, revealing Nate of all people.

"Hey," he greeted with a sort of strained politeness that immediately let her know she'd been found out. Crap. "Blair's looking for you." It was a thinly veiled way of him saying "she's about to blow her top if you're not in her presence without the next five minutes".

Judging from the look on your face, you seemed a bit concerned but not surprised as you put out your cigarette on the railing, clearly used to this happening. "It was nice seeing you, Vanessa. Think about what I said with you and Dan," you politely bid her farewell as Nate led you back inside.

"Spotted: Vanessa Abrams seen alone out on the balcony with a toy that already belongs to the Upper East Side's most elite. Haven't you heard, V? They won their prize fair and square, and they don't intend on sharing anytime soon. If it's company that you're after, perhaps Lonely Boy would be a much better suited companion. At least he doesn't have a pack of vicious bloodhounds sniffing after him wherever he goes. Maybe next time you'll think twice about going after someone who's clearly off limits, to you and everyone else. If the object of your attraction wouldn't be shared with their fellow socialites, what makes you think a nobody from Brooklyn would ever have a chance? Just something to think about once you're officially excommunicated from the Manhattan crowd, which is bound to happen any time now from the looks of it. You know you love me. XOXO, Gossip Girl."

Vanessa knew she'd never get another opportunity to be alone with you like she had, especially after the most recent blast put out by Gossip Girl. None of your partners seemed intent on leaving your side from that point on, one of them always having an arm wrapped protectively around your waist whenever she saw you together, just like Nate had when he took you back into the party and away from her.

She didn't miss the hushed whispers and judgmental glances thrown her way by the other party goers, no doubt questioning the audacity she must've had in thinking she'd somehow manage to snatch you up just by getting you alone. Even Dan looked uncomfortable, not even bothering to say goodbye to you when he left. It was all her fault, and she knew it.

The last thing she saw of you before she left the party was your flustered expression from the many kisses being placed on your neck by Serena, Chuck's hand resting on the small of your back as Nate and Blair also stood close by. Despite being "off limits" as Gossip Girl had said, she really did think she'd somehow be special enough to be an exception to that rule. She wasn't, and if anything only caused it to be enforced even more.

Once again, she'd lost, but was that really a surprise? You certainly didn't think so, and while part of you felt bad for her you also thought she should've known better than to go after you of all people when literally anyone else was up for grabs.

Next time you invited Dan to a party, you'd have to specify that plus ones weren't allowed. You already had enough drama in your life without someone else adding onto it just because they had a little crush on you.

Right now, however, that wasn't your biggest concern as you were far too focused on the after party your partners were clearing intent on having in the limo on the way home. Safe to say your neck was going to be covered in hickeys and your legs were going to be shaking from aftershocks of pleasure by the time they were through with you.

End notes: sorry for the slight vanessa bashing I couldn't help myself (and if some of the descriptions of her made you cringe then good because that's the point lmao)

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[finniestoncrane]

Date, Digger Style

KTJL!Boomer x Fem!Reader, word count: 6k hi i am sorry, this was supposed to be like. a lil silly thing about what a first date with george might be like. and it ended up being 6k words. i just want him so bad it makes me look stupid quite honestly and i am ok with that 💙 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: sleazy behaviour, groping, tongue kissing, just the tip and then not just the tip but agreeably so, lots of physical affection, reader has tits and a vagina, reader is referred to with feminine pet names, descriptions of a gross kitchen, also let's pretend that he's always a lil bit drunk so his drunk driving seems like the normal state of things. he's a villain. he's allowed to break laws lmao (and it's fiction, so i'm allowed to decide what alcohol does to him)

Sitting on the edge of your sofa, you took a quick look at your phone to check the time and to see if you had missed any messages. Nothing. Not even a quick courtesy text with "on my way" typed hastily, or auto filled. You'd been sitting there for twenty minutes already, with no sign of George. If this was what he considered a good start to your first formal 'date' then you two were perhaps too different after all to make this work. He was laid back, to a flaw. Horizontal. And you were more organised, at least more so than George Harkness.

Just as you began typing out a message, you heard the tell-tale screech of the tyres on his van, followed by the rumbling of the engine as he put the brakes on and came out of the creaking door. The sharp buzz at your door was enough for you to know your suspicions were right, and without answering it, you headed downstairs. At the door, you could see Digger, picking at his teeth and tucking the stray strands of hair back under the rim of his hat before he noticed you and struck a pose, goofy smile plastered onto his face.

He moved to grab you when you met him on the steps leading up to your building, but you dodged him, spitting his nickname at him.

"Digger."

"Aw, are you mad cos I'm late? You're not some bloody princess, I think you can wait five minutes!"

"Twenty minutes."

"Twenty, the- Twenty!?"

His eyes were wide as he looked to you, and you offered a solemn and unimpressed nod in response.

"Fuck... alright, that is a bit much. This'll be worth it though, I promise."

Raising an eyebrow, you silently questioned that. You'd known him for a while now, skirted around the conversation, flirted constantly, but turned him down at every offer of a date. And now, when you had finally agreed and given in to his constant pestering, he was going to show up late and not even dressed differently or in clean clothes? You weren't sure it would be worth it. But, if all else failed, you could always count on him to make you laugh, or at very least conjure up a smile. And despite wanting to still maintain an exterior of disappointment, you could feel the corners of your mouth lifting as he opened up the passenger door and gestured to it with his arm, bowing low.

"M'lady, your carriage awaits."

As you stepped up and into the front of the van, the smell was the first thing that hit you. Stale beer, sweat, and about five other scents just indistinct enough to elude your keen nose. Trying not to think about it, you turned to grab your seatbelt and noticed, out of the corner of your eye, that the back of the truck was filled with empty beer cans and bottles, piles of clothing, some dirty and some clean. And in the middle of it all, a mattress, some pillows, and a scattering of sheets.

"Do you live in here?"

"Don't worry about it, babe."

Before you could ask him any follow up questions, he pulled away from the kerb with a stuttering acceleration, and carelessly pulled into traffic. After a few minutes of teeth grinding, life-threatening driving at high speed, he pulled off the main roads and began taking back streets.

Granted, you didn't know where you were going yet, since Digger was insistent on keeping it as a surprise, you still assumed that after ten minutes of nothing but roads dotted with potholes and routes plagued by speedbumps that it was surely quicker to have stayed on the main route until you were closer. However, it became clear that there were intentions behind this path after all, when you turned to question George about the route and found him quickly glancing from the road to your chest, smiling wider every time a bump jostled your body, causing your breasts to jiggle. With a heavy sigh, you turned to look out of the window, concealing the smile that threatened to give away your façade. There was no way you could let him know how oddly flattering you found his constant gawking, that would be a nightmare.

When the van stopped at a red light, you spoke, still looking out of the window, to try and get Digger to tell you where you were going.

"I just would feel better knowing how long we've got left to drive is all."

He reached over to you, placing his hand on your thigh and pressing his fingers and thumb together, squeezing the ample flesh.

"Listen, don't worry about it, we're almost there."

His palm pressed down and skimmed further up your leg, and as you turned to catch his eye, hoping to at least shame him into not continuing his bold heavy petting, you were instead met with his lopsided, careless grin. With one hand on the steering wheel and one permanently on your thigh, he continued driving for another ten minutes, until you were well on the outskirts of the city. When the van finally stopped, you could still hear the tinny rumbling and sharp clinking of the empty bottles and cans bashing around in the back, feeling like it had shrilly inserted itself permanently into your head. But once you had stepped out of the van and the fresh air, plus the odd stench, hit you, you could hear yourself think clear enough to know that you were definitely beginning to regret this decision once more.

"Told ya we wouldn't be much longer! We're here!"

"Where is here?"

"About twenty minutes outside Gotham."

"Digger."

He slapped his hand on your back and pulled you into a side hug, dragging you along as he walked towards the door of the flat roof building with broken neon lights that stood in front of you.

"Ah, come on babe! Get a sense of humour, or you'll always look fuckin' miserable!"

You weren't sure if he could hear your sighing over the sound of the gravel as you made your way to the front door, and he definitely couldn't hear the louder second one you let out when you got inside. The one that was cut short when you realised you could taste the smell that lingered on the air.

Taking your hand, an oddly gentle move from Digger. The moment was gone quickly when he smacked your ass as he ushered you into the dingiest looking booth at the back of the bar.

"George, really? Here?"

"Yeah, babe! This place is great. Cheap beer, good food. I promise, you just gotta trust me, alright?"

Taking a quick look around the place told you otherwise. But there was just something about him you found hard to say no to. Which you imagined would land you in much bigger problems later on, but for now, potential food poisoning and a hangover of the worst order seemed like a fair risk for what would no doubt be a fun night regardless. It always was with George.

"Aw, I know that face! You're on board! Right, I'm gonna go to the bar and get us some drinks and food."

"I don't know what I want though, I haven't looked at the menu."

"Don't have to, I'm getting us the usual. You'll like it, tr-"

"Trust you, yes, I know."

With a wink, he slid out of the booth and you watched him make his way to the bar, leaning on it with his oh-so-cocky attitude as he ordered for you. And when he sat back down, he slid a pint in front of you and began chugging at his own. Looking over the tip of your glass as you sipped, you tried to get a glimpse at the kitchen. From what you could see, it looked like the kind of place that might give any decent health inspector an aneurysm. The chef's clothes were dirty, the walls were a stained yellow colour that seemed as though it was dripping down the walls, and every surface had a strange assortment of crumbs and stains on it. But still, you persevered.

And still, when the plates were slammed down on the table in front of you by the uninterested waitress, you were optimistic. Because you were determined to have a nice time. It was likely that which annoyed you the most of all, because the moment you bit into the greasy sandwich you didn't care in the slightest what kind of health hazard it was prepared in. You just wanted more.

"See, told you it was good."

Nodding in agreement, mouth too full to speak, you swallowed down the rest of the sandwich, although by the time you had finished it and your accompanying beer, Digger was already onto his third pint, and the sandwich was but a memory. Until he burped and you could smell it on his breath, something he found hilarious.

"Lighten up! You try, give it your best shot."

"I'm not having a burping contest with you, George. We're on a date."

"Yeah, but you're on a date with Digger. Way more fun, far less stuffy. Go on."

You mustered up the best you had to offer, cheese and beer and lettuce the most noted flavours in the air you expelled. Closing his eyes for a moment, Digger reached out across the table and took your hands.

"That was, without a doubt... the most pathetic fuckin' burp ever. We gotta get you another drink!"

Before you could say anything, he was already shuffling out of the booth and shakily making his way back to the bar. A bad decision being made and you couldn't really stop him. He could handle his alcohol, definitely, you'd seen him do it a number of times before. Digger could put away what might kill a lesser, for want of a better word, man. But it didn't make him any easier to be around. You'd already found yourself flushing hot, cheeks darkening, a heat building in your stomach with each lingering touch or flirtatious stare. So far this evening, you'd almost kissed him twice. It wasn't going to be any easier to prolong what you felt was the inevitable if he got far too drunk and became his usual, handsy self.

Of course, that's exactly what did happen. One more pint in and Digger was all over you in the booth. He'd leaned in at first to say something to you, speaking over the noise of the bar, close to your ear, his arm reaching up and around you and pulling you close and then keeping you there. As his fingers stroked at your shoulder, the other hand fell to your thigh, periodically squeezing it between his fingers and thumb. And every time you got distracted by how far up your thigh he was snaking his palm, fingers splayed out, pinkie grazing over your crotch, his other hand would pull your attention away as his fingertips skimmed over the top of your breasts.

It was difficult to try and hold him off. You were both tipsy, or at least you were tipsy, Digger seemed to be wasted. No good decision could come from that. But the way he touched you, the way he smelled as he leaned in, sweat, cheap body spray, acrid beer, it was intoxicating. If you'd been any less sober you might have leaned in then and there in the booth to kiss him, tasting the alcohol on his tongue, letting him put his hands all over you, anywhere, anywhere. But luckily, before you could make what you knew was a mistake, he sat back and laughed, one loud and sharp 'ha'.

"I fuckin' love this song, babe! C'mon!"

Before you could argue otherwise, you were being dragged out of the booth to join Digger on the tiny dance floor in front of the band. The song was difficult to dance to, at least you had assumed, given the heavy rock riffs that underlined the inaudible, high volume lyrics. But George wasn't deterred. It was almost endearing, how horrendously embarrassing he was, standing there with his air guitar, throwing goat horns at the band as he bounced on the spot. Cute, nearly. But mercifully cut short as the song ended.

"Aw, just as I was finding my groove."

You smiled at him, rubbing his shoulder in sympathy, biting your inner cheek as you felt how strong he was, impressed by his muscular arm as you let your hand slip down to graze over it.

"A real shame, George. Let's go back to- "

The band started up again, this time, a slower song, one that lent itself well to the kind of 'end of prom' vibes all young lovers were hoping for. And before you could finish your suggestion of heading back to the booth, Digger had pulled you close, his arms around your back, falling to your waist as he swayed back and forth. It could have been dancing, it could have been the uncoordinated shuffling of a man who had one too many beers, but either way, you leaned into it, allowing your head to rest against his chest while you placed your hands, linked together, at the nape of his neck.

It was almost too romantic, in its own, strange way. The dim lights, the other couples around you, the unique twang on the guitars, the stench of the greasy food, and the way George kept his hips, his crotch, pressed tight to you as you leaned against him. Not particularly from a storybook romance, but perfect all the same. You'd known this would happen. One date, and you were already falling for him. Not because of anything he'd done, but because deep down you knew you had been into him, since almost the moment you'd met. But you'd fought it, because men like George Harkness, you assumed, weren't the kind of nice boy you dated.

But here he was, holding you, swaying you, sighing softly as the music swelled. Granted the movements weren't exactly graceful, but they were surprisingly fluid, as though he might be good at dancing when he was sober. Yet another surprise for you to learn about, but obviously not right now. He was trying though, his hands at a respectable height, his head leaning on your shoulder. Every so often, he nuzzled into your cheek, placing a soft kiss to it when the notion took him. And when the song finished, you could hear his words clear, spoken gently into your ear.

"You wanna head out?"

You weren't sure if that was "out" as in "get some fresh air" or "out" as in "let's head home, yours or mine" but either option seemed good. The last remaining bit of sun and a soothing breeze might be enough to sober George up before you brought him back in for more dancing. And if it didn't, you were happy to take him to your place for a coffee, nothing more. Although, you were potentially considering letting him sleep on the sofa. You couldn't imagine how difficult it would be to nurse a hangover in the back of his van.

Outside, finally able to breathe without choking on the stench or the thickness of the air, you watched as Digger shielded his eyes from the sky. His stumbling stopped, and he began walking with his usual confidence, almost sobering up immediately in the light of the day.

"Christ! Still pretty bright out here..."

"Yeah, it's not that late. You tapping out early, George?"

"Nah, nah. Not at all! If I've got you for the night, then I'm havin' you for the night. C'mon, I know a place."

Admittedly, and strangely enough, you really hadn't had enough of him yet. It was one of the few things you agreed on, actually. This was supposed to be a date, you'd set aside the evening for it, so you were keen to make it last as long as possible. You couldn't let George know that, though. Keeping the upperhand seemed to be key with him, so you offered him a reluctant smile and rolled your eyes dramatically.

"Well, I suppose so."

Stepping up into the passenger seat of his van you caught him smiling back at you, knowingly. You weren't kidding him, he wasn't as stupid as he seemed at first pass, but he was kind enough to let you keep up the ruse. It didn't stop him getting a little dig in at you, however.

"Are you sure? If you're not keen I can take you home, babe. Wouldn't want you to be bored or something."

"And where are you planning on taking me that isn't boring, then?"

"Eh... just a little spot I know of. Quiet, secluded. Up that back road to the overlook. But again, if you're not into it..."

"No, no. It sounds... well, it doesn't sound boring, anyway."

Digger laughed, starting up the van which groaned horrendously before sputtering to life. Before he drove off, he turned to you and winked.

"Definitely won't be, it never is with me, babe."

Pulling out of the parking lot, he turned away from the city and onto the quieter roads which led out past the city lines and into the expansive countryside that secluded Gotham from the rest of the world. From the window, you watched the sun slowly setting, clouds turning purple and navy as they pushed in from the sides like curtains on a stage show. You had all the time in the world to gaze peacefully, as George was driving in complete silence, way below the speed limit, focusing intensely on the road. He'd seemed to sober up once you were out of the bar, but you didn't want to distract him while he was doing his best to keep you both alive.

The van bounced along a short dirt trail until it stopped in a small clearing, surrounded by trees on all sides and far above the dim, intrusive glow of the city, which buzzed against the now deep, navy sky. Shutting off the engine, George turned and shot you a smile, eyebrows raised playfully, before he leapt out. He walked quickly to the back of the van and you followed, waiting patiently as he opened the two back doors wide, finally giving you a better look at what had been rolling around there the whole time he had been driving.

There wasn't much you could think to say, being of the opinion that you should only speak if you had kind things to say. From where you were standing, you could definitely tell that you had been correct in your earlier assumptions. This was where he lived. His rolling apartment. Convenient, yes. But it was a long way away from being one of the trendy 'tiny homes' you'd seen. The walls were adorned with four posters in total, all of them the kind of cheap standards you would expect in the bargain bin of some ancient music store, miscellaneous women in very little clothing gazing out as seductively as they could from the airbrushed backdrops. On the floor, there was a stick and poke tattoo kit that looked like it might be the source of several new variants of hepatitis, and it was littered with empty beer bottles and cans, some of which may have been half-full at the point he decided to drive off given how sticky the surfaces looked. And to top it off, there was a worn out mattress. No sheets on it, no sheets around it save for one scruffy blanket. It was covered in stains that you couldn't quite place, which matched the single, dented and almost flat pillow that lay haphazardly to the side.

"You live like this?"

That was what you had wanted to say, but again, your polite nature stopped you.

"Handy to just get in the van and sleep, or get out of bed and go."

George smiled, looking oddly proud of himself.

"See, you get it. You won't believe the amount of people who have been put off by- uh... well..."

He looked to the ground, rubbing at the back of his neck with his hand.

"Not that there's been that many people I've invited into- A-and not that there haven't been any people that have been-"

"George."

You placed a hand on his shoulder and raised your eyebrows, offering him a sympathetic grin. He took the out, thankful that you'd put an end to his suffering, and reached in for the blanket, placing it flat over the top of the bed before offering his hand to you. Taking it, he helped you shift yourself into the back of the van, watching as you got comfortable on the mattress as best as you could, at which point he joined you.

Leaning back on his arms, he looked to the sky, sitting in silence for a few minutes. You had joined him, watching the stars start to sparkle as they became visible against the darkening backdrop. At some point, you realised that he was staring at you, and you wondered how long you'd had his gaze trained on the side of your head. Not on any other part of your body, you noted. He was looking at your face, gazing at your eyes. When you turned, you caught his stare immediately, smiling softly when he blinked and looked away with a cough meant to clear the air of the awkwardness he was bringing about.

Rooting around behind him, he eventually found two unopened beer cans, both of which were loose amongst the rest of his belongings. Keeping one for himself, he passed the other to you. He raised his, tipping his head with a 'cheers' and then cracked it open. You watched the way his Adam's apple bobbed as he gulped, a small trickle of foam slipping past his lips and down his chin. The urge to lean in and lick it off was disturbing, most of all because you felt yourself moving towards him before you even realised it. Settling back down into the strange romance of the moment, you pulled the tab on your own can.

The immediate explosion, the build up of pressure and gasses from the can being jostled around as you drove up the bumpy, dirt track to the spot you now sat in, left you in shock. Your shirt was soaked, completely, and the cool air was already beginning to chill your body. You blinked in shock, watching as Boomer tried to conceal his giggles while he stood up.

"Take your shirt off."

Looking to him, you raised an eyebrow, a look that said "is this really how you're going to make that move?" in a way that he read almost straight away. He began unzipping his blue hoodie, turning from you and passing it behind him, generously, and uncharacteristically, offering you some privacy.

Taking it from him, you quickly made the swap, your body exposed to the cold night air only briefly before you zipped up the hoodie, still warm from Digger's body. You tucked your bra and shirt under the mattress, making a mental note to collect them before you were home, hoping they would be dry. Making sure the zip was up completely, not offering any suggestive cleavage for Digger to hook his ideas into, you settled yourself, noticing that you were smiling. You could smell him on the fabric that covered your body. Beer, sweat, lingering smoke, an acrid smell you couldn't quite place and a sweet one on top of that. As the fabric grazed over you, you could feel your nipples hardening. It wasn't the cold though, it was faint arousal at the way you felt so close to him.

"You done yet, you're only putting a hoodie on!"

"Shit, yeah, sorry."

"I can look?"

He raised his hands, pulling them from his pockets and holding them up to his side, questioningly.

"Mhm, yeah."

When he was facing you again, he let his lips turn into an appreciative expression.

"Looks good. Suits you!"

Thudding back down beside you, George immediately lifted his arm up, wrapping it around your body and pulling you close. You found yourself settling into the hug, a natural embrace, one that made your heart flutter slightly as you let your head rest entirely against him. And then it happened, the moment that secured your confusion about him and his intentions. He sighed wistfully. So deep and joyous, his fingers digging into your arm to let you know you were the reason for the warmth spreading through him.

"It's nice out here, you can actually see the stars. Couldn't tell you what any of them were though."

"Are you kidding me right now?"

He turned slightly to look at you.

"What?"

"What? What are you doing? You brought me up here to look at the stars?"

George narrowed his eyes, his brow furrowing in confusion and slight irritation.

"Yeah! I thought it would be romantic!"

"Exactly!"

"Exa-... what?"

"You're so confusing. This whole evening, you yourself, it's not how I thought it would be. I mean, it wouldn't be you without the occasional grope and cheeky wink, but you've been so... You're so... It's weird to see you being so..."

Digger's hand fell to your thigh, a light pressure aiming to calm you down.

"So what?"

You couldn't answer it, because you weren't even able to settle on a definitive answer yourself.

So confusing?

So disgusting?

So gentlemanly?

So romantic?

So hot?

All of that and more.

And when words had failed you, you decided that you'd have to express your feelings another way.

It was less of a romantic, graceful move and more that you sank into him, falling against his body, your lips luckily making contact with his as you both found your way in the kiss. Neither of you expected it, both of you surprised. The tenderness, the hunger behind it. You could taste everything about him, smell him even better than you had when you had put on his hoodie. You expected he was experiencing the same.

Digger fell back, his hands catching your waist as he pulled you with him, both of you laying now on the mattress in the back of his van. His hands pawed, grabbed, skimmed over you, oddly restrained in fact. That was until you shifted yourself up and onto him, straddling his hips and staring down at him, panting heavily as you both caught your breath and took stock of the situation you were now in. His hands on your waist made their way up to your shoulders, your neck, cupping your cheeks as he grinned at you. Watching your face, your expression, for any subtle changes as he let his hands trail back down your front, fingers catching on to the zip of his hoodie and pulling it down slowly, opening it to expose you to him before he cupped at your breasts as you bit your lip.

"Fuck me..."

Digger let out a low groan that followed his short, to the point statement. His fingers circled your nipples, tightening around them as he teased you. His hips bucked up, jostling you, letting you feel how hard he was. You could tell just from that motion that the rumours about how gifted he was had truth behind them.

Bending down to kiss him again, you let your tongue slip past his lips, his own meeting in your mouth. He tasted divine. Sweet, but acidic. Earthy almost, definitely addictive. Everything felt dream like, surreal. Mostly, you assumed, because you were doing something you'd never dream of, something you knew was ill-advised, a little bit silly, embarrassing in the right company. But it was hard to care.

You were quickly brought out of the dream like state however, as you felt Digger's hands between both of your crotches, unbuckling his belt and fiddling with the zipper on his jeans.

"Wait... on the first date? You think you've charmed me enough for that?"

With the smug, self-satisfied grin you had grown oddly fond of, George looked into your eyes as he spoke.

"I think you started this, so it's a pretty good indication of how much I've charmed you."

He winked as he let his fingers tug at the waistband of your own pants, pulling at them as you leaned in to another kiss. Your attempts to stop him, or at least to pretend that was your intention, were put to one side as your body reacted to the feeling of the cool air against your bare skin, his hands, rougher than you expected, holding your thighs, pulling your pants down further until he needed you to move.

"Well... have I charmed the pants off you at least?"

Smiling back at him, you nodded your head from side to side as though you were weighing up his efforts over the evening.

"I suppose you have charmed the pants off me, yes. But... I'm not sure how much further your winning personality has gotten you."

"There's plenty of time for me to catch up, then."

Clumsily, and with very little grace, you shifted and removed your pants, blushing as you noticed Digger watching you intensely, taking note of every movement, every second of you undresssing, as though you were offering him the performance of a lifetime. As you steadied yourself, he hooked his fingers into the band of your underwear and pulled you back to him, landing you flat on top o f his body, your hands on his chest.

Teasing at the band of your panties, he dipped two fingers underneath the fabric, skating over your mound and down to your lips, stroking them gently before spreading them apart. He rubbed one finger up and down, collecting your slick as he licked his lips, desperate to know how you tasted. Bringing his fingers to his lips, he ran them on his tongue, sucking them with his eyes rolling back.

"Fuck. Fuck. Fuck me."

He continued unzipping his pants and pulling them down, boxers included, to reveal his more than impressive cock. At least ten inches, easily, thick, perfect, topped with a tuft of almost flaming red hair. Trying to control yourself, you leaned back.

"What are you planning on doing with that, Harkness?"

He squirmed, pressing his eyes shut and biting his lip before he managed to strain himself enough to speak.

"I just want... I want you... touch it... feel you... something... come on, please!"

Shuffling forward, teasing him knowingly as you felt his head, his length, against your thighs, you mused out loud, humming as though you were actually considering it, as though you hadn't already made your mind up yet.

"I suppose... this was a pleasant enough date. I could give you something, throw you a bone."

He nodded furiously below you, muttering his words of agreement.

"But! Just the tip. I'm not sure how much more of that I could take. It should come with a warning."

George actually blushed, looking away from you for a moment, as though the comment had genuinely embarrassed him. It did seem odd to you in that moment that he wasn't constantly bragging about his prowess in that area. He struck you as exactly the kind of person who would mention the size of his cock at any opportunity. You wondered if had the effect on others that it had on you. It was daunting, a little bit nerve-wracking. How many of the few people who had made it this far had given up at the sight of it, you wondered.

Most, you assumed, as despite how desperate he seemed to fuck you, he agreed enthusiastically, happy to be offered any opportunity to get as close to you as possible. He was already pulling at your underwear, grasping at it, trying to pull it down before deciding to push it to the side as he lined up the head of his cock with your swollen lips.

Looking directly at you he maintained the intense eye contact as he slid himself between your lips, pushing at your tight entrance slowly, carefully, only allowing his head to enter you. It felt amazing. So good, better than you thought. It stretched, filled you up, and that was ten percent of what he had to give. He hissed, gritting his teeth in concentration, trying his hardest not to move his hips, to buck them, to push himself any further inside of you.

As you balanced yourself, trying to contend with the little of him that was inside of you, he brought his thumb to your clit, rubbing it, making you twitch, contracting against him, tightening the grip your cunt had on his head. As he groaned, you couldn't help yourself anymore. You wanted him, all of him. You were willing to risk it.

"God, George... just fuck me."

"Wh-what?"

"Fuck me! Just..."

Realising you might need to take matters into your own hands, you let yourself slide down his cock, each inch stretching you further, a shockwave of pain followed by dull throbs of ache and arousal coarsed through your body, the pit of your stomach feeling pressed, your insides stuffed with him. Llike you were being entirely consumed, enveloped, in George Harkness.

"Christ..."

It was all he could manage with the limited breath he had, his whole body stopping any other function to focus on not letting himself cum inside of you immediatel. The sudden warmth, the tight, wet embrace, the way you leaned back, breasts bouncing as helped yourself to him, riding his cock as he lay back and held your hips. His thumbs, stroking against your skin, where the top of your thighs met your lower stomach, feeling your own desperation as you worked him harder, faster, palms resting on his chest to balance yourself as you took everything he had.

Brows furrowed in concentration, pursuing your orgasm, you wailed as his fingers found their way back to your nipples, teasing them, grabbing at your breasts as you rolled your hips and felt his cock twitching agaisnt your walls. It hurt, but in a way that was delicious, a way that felt like it should be borderline illegal, like most things that provided such a wonderful, addictive experience were. But there you were, enjoying it. Loudly, explicitly. And very publicly. It didn't matter to you, and it really didn't seem to matter to George. You were quite happy to scream it from the rooftops then and there, how much you were enjoying it. Being fucked by Captain Boomerang, as ridiculous as his name always seemed to you. You'd be quite content to tell everyone that he was making you cum, that he was one stroke of his thumb against your erect nipples, one tap of his cock against the exact spot inside of you, from losing all composure.

"George... George..."

"Yeah... yeah, it's good... eh? I'm good."

"Fuck, you are. Yeah. Yes! Yes!"

One final, loud, resounding 'yes' echoed around you, filling the air, bursting through the trees. You imagined that anyone within a five mile radius might have heard Digger coming. His cock, falling from you against his body, still dripping with your slick, still spurting streams of his thick, white cum all over his abdomen, covering his thick pubic hair. His hands, still embedded in your skin, creating deep, red marks where the grip was far too tight, stinging so perfectly pleasantly.

Your own notes of pleasure hadn't exactly been all that much quieter than his own, but still drowned out by the amped up grunting and wailing of George. At least you could hold that saving grace. Allow yourself to cling to that modicum of your dignity.

Because you certainly weren't bothered about any other facets of it, as you slid down beside George on the dingy mattress, curling around his body, hand on his chest, smugly satisfied to know that you had contributed to the stains that would no doubt be a permanent feature.

[effietrinket1619]

hal jordan vs brucie wayne: the tiktok war

a continuation of this. part two

hi i'm back with a little thing. i desperately needed to write something kinda lighthearted because my current WIP is really bumming me out lmao. anyway, effie-typical characterisation ahead so don't read if you don't like me portraying bruce as kind of an asshole <3

When Dick slammed his phone down, screen-first, onto the dining table, Bruce figured he'd finally had enough.

All of his children weren't behaving normally. Being shifty, being one with the shadows, that was a core part of being a Bat but this? Hiding things actively from Bruce was a step too far into territory he did not want to visit.

He sat down heavily, opposite Dick who was staring down at the table like it interested him greatly. "Phone," he growled.

"What am I? Twelve?" Dick retorted, flipping it over and unlocking it. A song started playing, a rap song Bruce was only partially familiar with and Dick didn't show Bruce immediately, staring at whatever played before sighing. "Okay. I'm gonna show you, but you have to promise to be normal about it."

"Normal?"

"Yeah." Grimacing, he added, "Just don't be...yourself, okay?"

A grumble of dissent built upon Bruce's tongue but Dick didn't let it fly. He spun the device around and Bruce got to watch one of those TikTok edits young people were obsessed with. The song he now recognised: Nasty Dog by Sir-Mix-A-Lot. Bruce figured the song choice would have offended him the most but no. He now saw exactly what Dick meant.

Because why, in the seven hells, was Hal Jordan the subject of this thirst trap?

Bruce blinked. He reached up and scrubbed his eyes before they focused again on that stupid, infuriating aviator jacket. It was--it was undoubtedly Hal's face and body there, edited by a stranger underneath a slightly cloudy filter in order to make him look as physically attractive as possible. And--

Bruce turned horrified, betrayed eyes onto Dick, his eldest and prodigal son who was currently rolling his eyes. "I told you to be normal about it."

"That's Jordan."

"Yeah."

"You are watching videos of Jordan."

"Yes."

"Why does Jordan have a TikTok account."

Dick sighed, long and hard. "He doesn't. But his teammate, Jessica Cruz has. She's been uploading videos about Hal for a couple of weeks now and they've been blowing up."

"His ident--"

"She's careful about it. No identifying questions or traits or anything like that. It's just raw and unfiltered Hal Jordan."

Staring at the edit which was still playing, Bruce blinked harder. "And people enjoy it?"

"Clearly."

"Do--" He hesitated. "Do you enjoy it?"

Glancing away, Bruce's boy muttered, "Me and others. Hal's become a hit in the hero community. And, uh, other communities."

"People are--are sexually attracted to Jordan."

Dick shoved his face into his hands and groaned. "Yes, Bruce. What about that can't you understand?" Lifting his eyes, Dick sighed harder at Bruce's expression which he was trying to maintain as total neutrality. Clearly, he was not effective. "It's not just his appearance. He's nice. He's honest. He's very out of touch with internet trends so he's funny without meaning to be. And with the Lanterns raising Keli, there's a paternal aspect people can't seem to get enough of."

"Keli?"

Sounding vaguely annoyed now, Dick said, "Yeah, Keli Quintela. Teen Lantern. Keep up Bruce."

"There's another one?"

"Ugh! Anyway, I got from Jason who talked to Kyle--"

"You talk to Jason?" Bruce asked, astonished despite himself.

Dick waved him off. "He's my little brother, of course I talk to him. Anyway, Jess is running a tight ship. She's ruthless about what they do and don't put on the internet. If the whole Green Lantern thing doesn't work out, she'd be a pretty good PR manager. Might not work for you."

Bruce narrowed his eyes. "How good?"

And finally, Dick looked a little cowed. He glanced up at the clock and then the exit, as if he was planning an escape while thinking up of a sufficient lie. Bruce leaned forward and hoped the hysteria in his eyes didn't give him away too freely. "Bruce, c'mon--"

"How good?"

Looking anywhere but his father's face, Dick muttered out, "Really popular. Like, stupidly popular. Even in comparison to you."

"To me?" Bruce's voice did not crack.

Throwing his hands up into the air, Dick desperately exclaimed, "It's not my fault we're in an economic recession! Billionaires aren't really popular right now so the people are gravitating towards a ruggedly handsome everyman--"

"Ruggedly handsome?"

"--to root for! And Hal just happened to appear on TikTok at the right time. I'm pretty sure Hal barely knows what TikTok is. Kyle apparently mentioned that they're not letting him read any comments."

"I..." Bruce stood up so fast, he was dizzy for a split second. "I need to talk to Jordan."

"Great! Goodbye Father!"

When Bruce walked out of the room, Nasty Dog continued to play and did not stop for several, long minutes.

---

When Bruce got to the Tower, he was late. This was by design, of course, although when he entered the agreed upon meeting room, the darkness made him believe it was empty for a moment. Flicking the lights on, he got the shock of a lifetime.

There was Hal, slumped forward with his head resting on his arms. John sat next to him, entirely uninvited but not unwelcome. Hal groaned loudly when the LEDs blinked to life, burying his face deeper. "Turn the sun off, John," he moaned.

"They're lights, Hal."

"Even better. Turn 'em off."

"Jordan," Bruce began brusquely. "Are you hungover?"

Hal groaned pitifully. "Who the hell has time to be drunk? I was patrolling for a week straight and then I had to go straight to a PTA meeting. Fucking Micheal doesn't know how to keep his goddamn filthy hands off--"

Hal was still talking but Bruce had already thoroughly checked out, his mind still caught on that damning piece of evidence right in the middle of his rant. When he spoke next, his voice was an octave higher. "You're a member of the PTA?"

"Shut up, Bruce! You're too goddamn loud."

He fought with himself to regain his composure. Breathing out deeply, Bruce spoke again and his voice didn't waver. "I wanted to discuss with you about your online presence."

"Aw, frag, is it that TikTak shit?" Hal grumbled. Once again, Bruce found himself blinking in shock. This was the man who'd charmed the internet? "Jess's the one in charge of it so go ask her. God, I thought this was gonna be important but you dragged me up here for nothing."

"It is important," Bruce pressed. "It's a matter of security. All it would take is one slip up for our identities and lives to be compromised. What Jess is doing is putting everyone at serious ri--"

"Get to it, Bruce," Hal growled. Growled. At Bruce. "Guy's got an MRI later and I needta be awake for it."

"I just--Gardner has an MRI? What happened to him?" Bruce demanded.

Hal laughed at him. Laughed. A short bark of a chuckle that was neither soft nor actually humourous. "Don't pretend to give a shit about Guy and his extensive brain damage now, Bruce. Get. To. The. Point." He lifted his head enough for Bruce to see the deep circles underneath his eyes, the weariness that clung onto his face like a vice. Not so ruggedly handsome anymore, then.

"I think you should convince Jessica to delete the account she's made," he said succinctly. "It's far too risky and if you truly are raising a child, which I wish to talk to you about later, it is best that you keep her off the internet at all costs. There are many benefits to staying offline, in fact, and I think you would thrive in such a position, Jor--"

Hal's head slammed into the table so hard, Bruce heard an audible crack. Then, he heard a soft and firm, "No."

"No?"

"No. Jess won't delete that account if she doesn't want to. That's her decision."

"Why?" Bruce demanded. "Why would you--"

"Fuck!" Hal slipped both hands over his ears. "Volume, Bruce."

"Why," Bruce snarled, "are you opposing me on this?"

"It's makin' her happy." Hal gave an approximation of a shrug from his crumpled up position against the table. "If she's happy making content with me in it, then she's happy and I'm not gonna be an asshole and ruin that. And she's good at it too, according to your kids."

"Do you enjoy the attention, Jordan?" Bruce seethed.

"People on the internet wanna get me pregnant and they frame it like it's a threat. Keep that in mind and ask again."

"You aren't funny."

"Wasn't trying to be."

"Jordan," Bruce said, taking a step forward to tower over him. "I'm not asking you."

"'Kay."

He felt himself twitch in irritation, a full body flinch. John smiled down at Hal, idiotically fond, and rested a hand against his back. "I think we should bench this discussion for another time," he said pleasantly. "We really do have to get going. Guy might try to chicken out of the scan and we've been trying to convince him for months."

"Right." A deep breath in and out. "And about Keli Quintela--"

"No." Hal looked up again, eyes a pale, bleached green. "Nope. Nuh uh. You come at her with one of your half-baked, bullshit contingencies and I'll show you what fear is. She's eleven. She doesn't need that shit. Jess won't even let her be in the TikTaks."

"They're TikToks!" Bruce cried, a little hysterical. "Don't tell me you don't know that?"

But Hal had already dropped his head down once more and gone still. John's smile at Bruce was nothing short of victorious in his calm, quiet way.

Bruce walked out with his head high and his ego moderately bruised, the promise of vengeance settling over his heart.

[moonswolfie]

Once in a lifetime

timeskip!Suna x reporter!reader (SPOILERS!!)

Reader is gender neutral

Because my other suna fics popped off i'm writing for my boi again ( *︾▽︾)

So yk the thing where news reporters playfully flirt with athletes/sportsmen while interviewing them sometimes? Yeah this is that basically

idk how news reporting works lmao

Being a news reporter for the sports division was always fun. You got to watch all sorts of different sports matches and competitions and even talk to some of the star atheletes up close, which was your favourite part. They always look so different to the way they do in TV.

And that holds true to EJP Raijin's Suna Rintaro, too. In a good way, a very very good way. You see, Suna Rintaro has caught your eye a while ago and you became his fan in an instant. The way he moved during each match was awfully entrancing.

You weren't going to lie, you do have a celebrity crush on him. You've watched enough matches and interviews and tiktok edits for that to hold true.

So when you got an opportunity to do post-game interviews with the EJP Raijin team, you took it as fast as you possibly could. Maybe you'll even get his autograph out of it.

So here you were, watching the match (mostly Suna) with the camera crew. It was invigorating to see him in real life, that's for sure.

The team was doing well, as expected. So close to winning, and you have zero doubt about it. With how well they're playing you just know they'll win.

You don't even realise the excited grin on your face, or the flushed cheeks for the record, but your camera crew was already gossiping about it behind you.

Their points ticked up and soon they got the final point for their victory. "Yesss..." you whispered to yourself. Winning puts the players in a good mood, consequently putting you in a good mood. And it makes them more willing to do interviews, too.

You and your camera crew pounced at the opportunity as always. You ran up to the players, the crew on your heels. And you weren't the only ones waiting to cease the opportunity, as many other reporters and photographers ran beside you. "Suna-san, Suna-san!" You tried getting his attention over the various reporters.

You knew he had a habit of ignoring interviewers, so you weren't too hopeful about an interview, especially not when literally everyone around you was also trying to get his attention, but it was always worth a try. It's not every day you see your celebrity crush, after all.

He glanced back at you, and you swear his eyes widened a little. He looked away, and then back again, seemingly deciding if it's worth it. He then stopped, letting his teammates walk around him before turning around and walking to you, pushing through the crowd of reporters.

Your smile widened with every step he took, stars shining in your eyes when you got a good look at his face up close.

Your camera crew was already set up and waiting for you to begin. You cleared your throat, trying your best to supress your big dumb smile.

"I'm here live from the stadium with EJP Raijin's number 7, Suna Rintaro!" You gesture to Suna who nods curtly. "If you don't mind, I have a few questions for you following your team's victory." You smiled brightly at him, him nodding in response.

"How did you feel about today's opponent?" You went about asking the standard questions you ask basically every time you do an interview.

"Their serves were tough to handle..." Suna sighed slightly, thinking back of all the times his receives were slightly off and the ball went in a weird direction. "And their libero was quite annoying to deal with. That's a compliment, by the way."

You chuckled a little, quickly following up with "How do you feel about your victory?" You asked, smile as bright as ever. Somehow, you felt bold all of a sudden. I mean, isn't interviewing your celebrity crush a once in a lifetime moment? You might as well take advantage of that....

You nodded along to his answer, channeling your courage in the meantime.

"And are you single?" You asked in a half joking tone so you can play it off as one just in case he doesn't take it well. You would like to think that you asked this with confidence but you honestly can't hear yourself over your hammering heartbeat right now.

He seemed stunned by your question, a small smile forming on his face when seeing your nervous smile. Your camera crew sighed, one of them smiling victoriously, knowing he won the bet.

"...Yes, I am. Why are you asking?" He asked, looking at you with feigned cluelessness. You realise just now that this is odd behaviour for him. Usually when a news reporter would try to flirt with him, he'd shut them down immediately.

"Well, you know... because this is a question of utmost importance. Alteast to me." You winked, immediately regretting it after. Ugh, that was lame...

"Is my number a a thing of utmost importance, too?" he asked playfully, smirking at you. Out of all the things that could happen today, you were never expecting him to flirt back.

You almost didn't want to believe it. You thought that you'll wake up from the dream any second now. You swallowed all your emotions quickly, nodding eagerly while trying your best to wear a flirty smile. "But of course."

At this, he chuckles a little bit, which put a big smile on your face. You cannot believe you actually made him laugh. And got to see it up close, too. "This is wayyy better than all the other interviews I've ever done. No shade to the other reporters." After a small pause, he stretched his arms.

"I'll be behind the stadium, by the way." he said with a casual smile on his face, turning around and walking off.

Only then did the reality that you just flirted with your celebrity crush on live TV truly hit you. "Umm, well, back to you, Kiriya-san!" you signified the end of your segment swiftly, and your camera crew cut the cameras.

Oh lord, the other news reporters back at the station are never going to let you forget this, are they... "Hey, look who's out here getting a boyfriend..." your cameraman teased, and you clenched your jaw in embarrasment. "You don't gotta do this to me, this was a once in a lifetime opportunity..."

"Well, then what are you waiting for? He said he's waiting for you behind the stadium."

I normally don't do this but i am in my shadowban era so likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated <3 )

(oh yeah, please and thank u 😊)

[laurynjc-art]

what do you think about michaels mothers? did you draw them? \i remember one of them in your comic about boyf's problems in their relationship, but what about other?\, or you see his family in different way?. i have sooooo many thoughts about them \even write some kind of their past and the story about their meeting, their habits and tastes etc\, want to know what do you think about it!

grips you by the shoulders and shakes you violently because yes yes oh please yes I have many so many thoughts about Michael's mothers (this is gonna be long lol)

here they are! (rough sketches but eh whatever)

Rosanne is Michael's biological mother. She had him kind of young, just out of college. And the father, who was a long-term boyfriend, didn't exactly bother to stick around.

Eloise is legally Michael's step-mother but is more importantly the mother who stepped up; Eloise and Rosanne met in high school and were instant BFFs. And when Eloise heard the news about Rosanne's baby and a recently revealed-to-be deadbeat father, holy shit did she feel bad since she'd basically introduced the two.

But eventually Eloise said "yeah fuck that guy, your kid needs a dad? I'll be his dad." Which started as just a joke between friends who then moved in together figuring it'd be easier to juggle work and a baby and Eloise's recent acceptance into med school.

Obviously things weren't easy easy, but having your best friend to lean on and have your back is pretty cool. Until one day you start realizing that you might actually have feelings for her but that's horrendously inconvenient right now so you try to ignore it but soon you're making jokes like "what if we got married for tax reasons lol? Wouldn't it be funny if we were legally unionized so that if something happened to one of us the state and our families wouldn't be fighting over our assets and Michael lmao?"

Well the jokes stopped being jokes, and they got married at a courthouse witnessed by a handful of friends and photographed by a four year old Michael with a disposable camera.

Everything was obviously not perfect; both Eloise and Rosanne were now running with some very demanding jobs, leaving less attention for Michael, which sucked for everyone involved.

And remember that birthday of Michael's everyone but Jeremy forgot? Yeah his moms weren't exempt from that. It was an honest mistake and they both felt horrible, but it severed their relationship with him for quite a few years. Even after Rosanne was able to quit her job so she could be home more, Michael was in high school before things started improving at all.

By the time the events of Be More Chill roll around, their relationship is definitely better. (Minus the fights about this new marijuana habit and you are sixteen why the hell do you think you want a tattoo) He still doesn't tell them everything. (His fight with Jeremy was mostly his burden up until Jeremy was hospitalized.)

But at the end of the end of the day, Rosanne and Eloise love each other, they love their son Michael and his friend Jeremy that they think of as a second son. They're always going to be in Michael's life. And despite everyone's shortcomings and all the things that could have been different, Michael still thinks they're the best moms he could have asked for.

Eloise is a neurobiologist. Rosanne prefers tea to coffee. She also likes medical dramas but doesn't watch them with Eloise because she won't shut up about inaccurate practices. Rosanne likes gardening. Both of their cars are 90% maintained by Michael (at his insistence.) Everyone in that house is trilingual to some degree. All the Mells are smarter than you. Just accept it.

idk Michael and his moms having a good relationship is so important to me. I have enough characters with crappy familial situations I didn't want to do that to him too

[mxbo]

I couldn't fit the tutorial on a reply lmao, here's a full post explaining my process :]]

STAMP TUTORIAL (TF2 edition, but works for everything)

99% of the process is done on the website ezgif. Ezgif carries the stamp-making process lmao

1. Get your GIF

Tenor: Ok place to grab your GIFs. Average quality of the GIFs is good enough, and looks ok when resized to the size of the stamp. You'll find like 1 normal GIF every 4 buff characters GIF tho.

GIPHY: Average quality of the GIF is better (I don't think the web compresses the GIFs that are uploaded)… If you find what you're looking for. You'll have to SCROLL before finding what you're looking for because there are always non-related GIFs on the top of your searches or the same GIF multiple times, it's crazy.

makeagif: You will find cool GIFs, but the quality is pretty low (I think the web itself compresses the GIFs a lot). It looks bad even when resized down. And it has a watermark, which I recommend cropping because it's not even visible when resized, it just looks like a gray blob on the corner.

Google: Best option by far, quality is pretty good and the ratio of “things I was looking for/things I actually find” is SLIGHTLY in favor of “things I was looking for” (and most of “things I actually find” are just the characters rotating, not NSFW, so that's only a nice change from Tenor). You won't have to scroll much to see different and interesting GIFs. JUST REMEMBER TO FILTER BY GIFS.

You search whatever > Images > Tools > Type > GIF

Make it on your own: Aka, you download your video, go to ezgif's “Video to GIF” (then you can crop it, CUT IT. THIS IS IMPORTANT, YOU DON'T NEED TO GO ANYWHERE ELSE TO CUT YOUR CLIP, YOU CAN DO IT ON EZGIF ITSELF). Ok, I lied, it wasn't Google, this is the best oftion by far. You get exactly what you want, the best quality if you don't compress it much until after the GIF has been resized into the size of a stamp… It's just super time-consuming, and you'll have to spend like an entire hour just watching a video to find the clips.

OK, I HAVE MY GIF NOW

Hehe, his legs go pipupipu

2. Resize

Go to ezgif, this is where the fun begins (if you weren't on ezgif already). You download your GIF, or copy the link and insert it, or you'll have it there if you made it yourself.

A STAMP MAKES 99px × 56px

THE INNER PART OF THE STAMP MAKES 91px × 47px

I RECOMMEND MAKING YOUR GIF 92px × 48px

BTW, THESE MEASURES ARE FOR THE TEMPLATE I'LL GIVE YOU LATER. If you use another template, just go to an image editor and see what the inner size of the stamp is.

So, you set your GIF's width to 92px.

Then crop it, so your height is 48px.

Or you can resize it so it's directly 92px × 48px, but the crop will be in the center, and SOMETIMES YOU DON'T WANT THAT.

For example:

It's a vertical GIF whose area of interest is not in the center, so if we resize it directly-

oops-

ANYWAY

Once you have your GIF resized:

IMPORTANT: BEFORE THE NEXT STEP, REMEMBER TO CONVERT TO GIF IF THE FILE YOU'RE WORKING ON ISN'T A GIF ALREADY

Sometimes you'll be working with a webp without even noticing (EW, I hate webp) and transparencies don't work particularly well with that extension.

3. Overlay

Click on this icon.

Ok, now that that's fixed:

Extend the size of the canvas.

Select your template and Upload image!

This is the template, btw.

Then move the overlay around until it contains the GIF nicely, or just set Left to 43, Top to 20 and Generate image! (I have these numbers memorized, it saves you like 20 seconds lmao)

Also, again, these numbers work on MY template, if you use another one, you'll have to figure it out yourself.

4. Crop

THIS OPTION IS A TIME-SAVER FR

5. Optimize (optional, highly recommend)

I always set my optimization method to Lossy GIF and level 10 because I find that there is no quality loss, and the file size might drop by 30%-70% (actually crazy). These percentages don't change much in higher compressions, even though you'll start seeing a drop in quality around level 35 of compression (the default).

6. Save

YIPPE!!! Your stamp is done :D

You can save it and look at it and place it on your profile or website.

Here it is btw, in case someone wanted it :]] The Sniper GIF but correctly cropped and made into a stamp as well.

Now do that another… eleven times, and you'll have a stamp pack to make into a Tumblr post... Oof TT

There's no website that lets you make stamps faster lmao (I wish)

@sir-broken-bones (I'm @ them so they actually see it, I made this tutorial for them after all lol)

[dirty-jammies]

Office Supplies 📝📏

(Silco X reader smut, no pronouns used (slut and whore are used, reader has a vulva, vaginal sex, chest/nipple touching), BDSM (dom top Silco, sub bottom reader), degradation, possessive behaviour, reader is a brat, impact play (spanking, slapping), wax play, bondage, aftercare, desk sex, body writing, basically an inappropriate use of office supplies lmao)

As one of Silco's best employees (his favourite, in fact... though that fact stays between the two of you, it's fairly obvious to the other employees), coming into his office late at night was a regular occurrence. Whether you were giving him the reports of the day, getting a new assignment, or even just sharing a drink and a conversation, you often found yourself in that office. The wide window behind his desk giving you a perfect view of the Undercity.

Though, at the moment, you were unable to enjoy the view as much as you usually did. A cry came from your mouth, though it was far from unpleasant.

Reports, assignments, and chats over drinks were nice...

But they weren't what made you Silco's favourite employee.

You cried out again into the paper on Silco's desk as another welt was added to your ass, the wood of Silco's yardstick creaked in his grip as he wound back for another strike. You whined high in your throat, wanting to reach back to soothe the pain, you could tell your ass was getting hot and red and swollen. 

Just how the boss liked it.

Just how you liked it.

Silco was already panting with exertion as he laid out a few more swift cracks of the yardstick.

"Say it again." He commanded, stepping around to the other side of the desk. Through your teary eyes, you watched him wring his hands around the yardstick, his arms exposed, as he had swiftly rolled up his sleeves once he understood you were in need of some punishment. The sight of those perfect hands and arms of his distracted you, and he narrowed his two-toned eyes at you before using the tip of the yardstick to tilt your head up to look at him.

"Do not make me repeat myself again."

You took in a shuddering breath before you sobbed, "I'm sorry sir!" You sniffed.

"For what?" He prodded. His eyes flicked up as your wrists flexed behind your back, bound in his silk tie. He looked back down to your face, "Colour?"

You sniffled a bit before smiling, "Green. I'm sorry for suggesting I seduce Finn so I could kill him for you." Your voice came out clear enough for Silco and he rewarded you with a smile and long fingers threading through your hair. Those calloused fingertips brushed against the bitemarks he left on your neck earlier.

"Very good. And why was that such a bad suggestion?" Silco tilted your head back to look up at him directly. 

He towered over you, and you knew he was letting you choose how the night would play out. Either he rewards you with something nice, or... you could try and get more delicious punishment out of this. You swallowed thickly before answering, "Because Finn would fuck me better than you?" You gave a challenging grin.

Silco's nostrils flared and you internally cheered. More punishment it was!

Silco wrenched your head back by your hair and you cried out in pain.

"What was that, slut?"

Silco's hand met your cheek faster than you could see and you whimpered at the sting. He tossed the yardstick to the side with a clatter and, grabbing your shoulders, he roughly flipped you over. You winced as your sore, welted ass met the cold, hard wood of his desk and your wrists were pinned under you; you squirmed and tried to sit up, but Silco's harsh voice barked at you and made you freeze. 

"You stay where I put you, or I'm throwing you out in the street as you are, bound and naked."

You heard a drawer opening and a few items being placed on the desk. Silco stepped around to face you and you looked to see him holding yet another item he intended to torture you with: a pair of metal paperclips.

"Stick out your chest, slut." He ordered, voice cold, "I am going to ensure that this brat behaviour of yours never returns. Ensure that I will be the only one to play with your whorish body."

You straightened your back, your nipples already erect from the cold air of the room and your arousal already pooling between your legs. He reached out and pinched your left bud between the metal loops of the paperclip, his face stoic as you whimpered at the sting and the cold metal. He repeated the action to your right nipple and stepped back to look at you. His gaze trailed up and down your body with a stern look.

He reached over and procured the next item; if he noticed your shiver of eager anticipation, he didn't mention it. 

"Spread your legs for me," he commanded, uncorking a glass bottle of fountain pen ink. He wasn't holding a pen, however, he was holding one of Jinx's paintbrushes she occasionally left around the Last Drop. He dipped the fine bristles into the bottle and extracted it slowly, ensuring no ink spilled on his expensive rug or the clothes he still wore.

You spread your legs obediently, "I'm sorry, sir, I-"

"You had your chance to apologize already," Silco cut you off and your breath hitched as you felt the cold ink be smeared on the sensitive inside of your thighs. You shivered at the slightly ticklish, erotic sensation of the brush and ink on your skin, knowing it would take multiple showers before it washed off completely. The swirl of an S, the long lines of the I and L, you knew exactly what he was writing.

He paused after he finished his name, "What would you prefer, 'Silco's pet'? 'Silco's slut'?" As if you actually had a choice, "No, perhaps simply my name will do to deter anyone who thinks they can touch what belongs to me."

"You got a label maker in that desk of yours?" You taunted as the ink cooled and seeped into your skin.

Silco paused for a moment and hung his head with a faint sigh, and you internally laughed.

"Please cease being silly and take your punishment," he reached out and pulled on the paperclips, making you squeak.

"Yes sir!"

Pleased by your response, Silco reached out to your chest again, this time with the paintbrush. You jumped and hissed as the cold ink met your nipples. Silco decorated your chest in the ink, a sensation that felt sensual and sweet, but the words he was writing were anything but sweet (Well, maybe they were sweet in their own way).

"Mine... toy... whore..." Lust dripped off of Silco's words as he wrote each one, the ink staining your skin and the brush's soft bristles making you shiver. He trailed the wooden end of the brush down to your stomach, right over the place he always seemed to hit when he was fucking you. He hummed as he re-corked the ink and set the bottle and the brush aside, "No... ink will not suffice for how I wish to mark you here."

You squirmed in anticipation, looking around to see what he could possibly use to mark you more than obvious black ink. As if answering your unspoken question, Silco produced his lighter from his pocket and picked up a dark red, finger-sized cylinder from the desk. You felt a bead of sweat roll down your temple. You recognized that shade of red. It adorned many of the letters you were tasked with delivering to Silco's associates: Sealing wax.

You laid back and tried to keep still as Silco flipped his lighter open and flicked it on, holding the flame up to the cylinder of wax and letting it melt. His hands were held out over your soft stomach, and you both watched as the first few drips of wax fell. You let out a gasp at the sensation, but you didn't dare move. You just let out whines and sighs as you felt the drips of dark red wax pool on your belly. It was hot, but it couldn't compare to the rest of the heat flooding your body at the delicious, methodical torture your lover was bestowing upon you.

Your fidgeting at the heat alerted Silco as a drip of wax rolled down the side of your belly and onto some of the paper on his desk and you heard him click his tongue, "Tsk, bear with it a little longer, whore... don't forget why you're being punished!" he snapped and pulled something from a small pocket on his vest. He twirled it between his long fingers and you saw it glint in the low light from the window.

You saw a flash of his teeth as he grinned, swiftly pressing the seal into the wax and you groaned at the pressure and the heat. He pulled it back and admired the view. His seal, right under your navel.

"There... do you think you've been sufficiently claimed now?"

That was bait. You knew it was bait, another opportunity to be a brat. Now though, as you embarrassingly felt your arousal pooling under your thighs, the ink spelling out his name there still a bit damp, you wanted more, you wanted to be rewarded.

You shook your head and spoke to him, voice trembling, "N-no, sir..."

Silco let out a low laugh, "No? You do have a point, I can certainly see one place of yours I haven't marked as my own tonight..." He reached out and spread your cunt, letting out a hum as it twitched and leaked, finally getting some attention, "And who do you want to fill you up here?"

You smiled and looked up at Silco, squirming in need, "You, sir... Please, sir, fuck me!"

"Very good," Silco smiled darkly down at you. He set the wax aside and pocketed his lighter. His fingers found the metal buttons on his pants and you felt yourself clench around nothing as he pulled his cock out. It was already rock-hard from him doling out your punishment and seeing your pathetic state. He gave himself a few long strokes, knowing you loved watching him touch himself, "This will teach you to never think of anyone else..."

He stepped forward and you let out a pleased noise as his heavy cockhead kissed your entrance. He dragged it around your cunt, getting it wet, "You're drenched already," he remarked with a lustful smile, "If I didn't know any better, I would think you enjoyed your punishment."

You whimpered as he kept prodding your clit and you looked up beseechingly at him, "O-only because, i-it was from you, sir... please...?"

A bark of laughter, "Good answer."

Silco pushed into you, drawing a loud groan from both of your mouths. His hands held on to your hips, his sharp nails digging into your soft flesh as he started a brutal pace, the desk creaking under it. The creaking sound was barely heard, though, over your ragged moans, the wet, sucking noises of him fucking you, or the breathy, filthy words he rambled off as he railed you.

“Pretty little whore, taking all of me,” you could tell he was watching the wax on your belly, bearing his official seal bouncing with his rhythm, “All mine, aren’t you? Tell me, who fucks you this well? Who fucks you better than anyone else in the world?”

“Silco!” You cried as he hit a spot inside you that made you see stars. Your body had experienced so much painful pleasure already, the bliss of him finally fucking you made your whole body sing. Your ass was still sore, the painful heat radiating as your ass was rocked back and forth on the desk, your nipples were starting to go numb and were harder than they’ve ever been, and the slap on your face was still stinging, brought back when Silco reached out to caress your face.

“That’s right, only I can please you, only I can see you like this,” his thumb bullied its way into your mouth and pressed down on your tongue. You could tell you looked fucked out already. You felt him flex inside of you; he really did love seeing you wrecked and fucked-out, “You want to prove you’re mine?” You nodded, eyes rolling in pleasure as he thrust harder and harder, “Then come, come on my cock and take all of what I give you.”

Your back arched and you cried out as orgasm shocked through your body. Silco hissed as you tightened around him and he plunged as deep as possible into you, until you could feel him nudging the place inside you underneath his wax seal. You panted, coming down from your climax and you found yourself struck by Silco’s appearance. You basked in the sight of sweat dripping down his angular face, his dual-coloured eyes almost glowing with intensity, and how he gasped in his breaths as he worked himself up.

Your view didn’t last long, though, as he moved one hand to your clit and began rubbing it, fingers sliding with how slippery you were. Your head thrashed against his desk in oversensitive euphoria. He started up his pace again, somehow even faster and harder and deeper than before.

“What?” Silco’s raspy laugh was barely audible over the pounding of your heart in your ears and your own cries of painful pleasure, “You think that I would only let you come once? Not a chance. Be mine, be my lovely little toy and come again.”

“I- I can’t-!!” You whined and tried to squirm away from his jackhammer thrusts, but he swiftly slapped over your clit with a wet sound, making you cry out.

“You will.”

“You felt like you blacked out for a moment as a second orgasm was torn from your overstimulated body. Every part of your body seized, only Silco pinning you to the desk by your hips held you in place. You heard his broken moan and suddenly, he was cumming, too. His nails dug into your soft hips and you felt every single hot jet of his cum splash deep inside of you, painting your walls white.

You went limp against the table and stared up, bleary-eyed at his office’s ceiling. A hand entered your view and you saw long fingers, still shiny with your wetness, snap twice. You blinked, regaining clarity as you calmed down from your high.

“Lovely, are you with me?”

You smiled and closed your eyes at Silco’s gentle voice, still roughened by sex. You hummed as that hand came down to cradle your face, “Hmm… forever and always, I’ll be with you.”

“Silly,” he laughed softly and helped you sit up, cock still inside you, but growing softer. You winced slightly; the welts on your ass still burned when you sat on them, “I'll treat those in a moment. Was that to your liking?”

You nodded, coming down softly, "Yes, Silco, it was perfect..." you made a small noise and pouted as Silco finally withdrew. He chuckled and untied your wrists, bringing them to your front and kissing the red marks dug in your skin. You looked down at your body, bitemarks and ink and wax and welts. You took it upon yourself to remove the paperclips from your nipples and you smiled as you saw Silco's brows raise in interest at how red and puffy they became.

"They're a little numb at this point but you can play with them again later if you want," you teased, "I think I could use a shower, though."

Silco smiled and looked at his handiwork, "The ink will take a few washes to come off. I figured you wouldn't mind." he extended a hand and pulled you up on wobbly legs into his embrace.

"I don't mind at all. Once it fades, though, you should write some more!"

"Oh? You truly love belonging to me so much?"

"Of course I do, after all," you pulled away with an impish grin and looked down to faint black smears on his vest and pants. Mirrors of the words Silco wrote on your body, "You belong to me too~"

You managed to dash to your shared bathroom off to the side of the office before Silco could grab you for more punishment. You looked over your shoulder to see Silco grab the yardstick again, meeting your gaze with a dark grin.