#oops she has a new hair style

[silverskyeline]

ੈ♡˳ 'baby fever' - 18+ logan x f!reader

summary: after your first baby is born, logan realises he doesn't want to stop at just one. (4.4k) tags: erm no one look at me, logan has baby fever, fluffy beginning, established relationship, breeding kink, blowjob, p in v, wet & messy, nipple play, overstimulation, creampie (lots of them oops), lots of dirty talk, clit play, missionary + doggy style, dom!logan & kind of sub!reader, crying from pleasure, rough sex, kind of body worship, for the 'home' prompt for logan promptober.

logan swears he’s dreaming, he must be. there’s no possible way he got this lucky, right? he’s holding his own baby girl in his arms, bouncing her on his hip by the bedroom window, watching on in awe as she eagerly takes in the world around her.

the light dances in her eyes while the world passes by behind the glass, birds singing, trees swaying gently, autumn leaves twirling in their yearly gentle dance. everything is new to her, and logan can’t help but be struck by such a profound love. everything feels new to him now too.

he never thought he’d have this, never thought he’d deserve it. still doesn’t believe he deserves it but accepts the role with more honour than any other role he’s been bestowed before it. a father, him, logan, a father.

her eyes droop, and his smile widens more than he thought possible. he makes his way through to her room as he mumbles sweet little words of affection to her in a voice so high pitched that no one would recognise it's his.

you watch on from the bed, a warmth spreading in your chest. you could watch him like this all day. he was a natural, the paternal instinct coming so easily to him. logan had always felt this deep-seated need to protect. though he spent so many years in solitude with no path and insisted he preferred it that way, you knew differently from the moment you met him. logan was a pack animal, through and through.

his eyes land on you as he returns to the bedroom and approaches you, standing at the edge of the bed, reaching out to cup your cheek in a loving gesture. thumb tracing across your soft skin, he speaks, “you look tired too.”

you smile, eyes closing as you lean into his touch, “maybe a little.”

parenthood hadn’t been entirely easy, but you couldn’t have anyone better by your side.

logan carefully makes his way into bed beside you, pulling you against his firm chest as his hand finds your hair and begins to thread through the strands. you hear the steady beat of his heart beneath your ear, soothing you, lulling you, though he could achieve that with his presence alone.

his eyes settle on the window, head tilting to the side. you can practically hear it, the cogs turning. logan might have seemed like a steel trap to others, but he may as well be translucent to you. “what’s up?“ you ask sleepily.

“oh,” he murmurs, he shouldn’t be surprised at this point that you’re alerted by his silent mannerisms, “just. . . thinkin’.”

and he was, thinking about you, about the baby.

“‘bout what?” you yawn.

logan pauses, “. . .would you ever want another one?”

your eyes shoot open and you lift your head to look up at him, you find his expression and realise he’s serious.

he flushes, just a little, but you notice, “never mind.”

a small laugh of disbelief leaves you, “logan howlett, do you have baby fever?”

he flushes deeper, what did that even mean? logan scoffs and you visibly see him retreat into that shell inside his mind.

“oh baby,” you grin, cuddling against his chest as you lean your chin against his shirt to continue gazing up at him lovingly, “you want another baby, huh?”

groaning, he rolls his eyes, “quit it.” he’s beetroot red now, a sight he only reserves for you, though it’s not as though he can help it.

but damn, the baby was only born a few months ago - he was already thinking of your second? the thought fills you with warmth, but more prominently, need. your eyes land on his flushed face as you bite your lip, wondering if he is thinking about filling you up right this very second.

". . . what'cha thinkin' 'bout?" you ask sweetly with feigned naivety as your hand slides down his torso to find the- oh. oh. he's already hard. you know what he's thinking about.

logan groans and tilts his head back when your hand makes contact, his adams apple bobbing as he swallows thickly. "nothin'," he lies, his hand covering yours making you squeeze around his length through the material.

your breath catches in your throat, a heat rising in your chest. "is that right?" you whisper, trying to stay in control. the thought of him taking you, hard and deep, whispering filth about how he's gonna make you a momma again over and over is making it hard to resist rolling over onto your back for him.

and he can sense it, can see it in your face, the way your brows twitch as he grows harder under your touch. it's so cute, actually, how hard you try, knowing he's going to pounce any minute.

but he plays your game, he lets you remain 'in control', though you're anything but.

slowly, you sit up on his lap and begin to unbuckle his belt. time isn't exactly a luxury you can both often afford, what with a newborn baby, but you're too in the moment to care about speeding things up just yet.

his hands rest on your hips, digits digging into the skin as he practices restraint. he wants nothing more than to buck up into you, to throw you on the bed and take you. but he waits. like a good boy.

once he's freed from the constraints of his jeans and underwear, you hum softly at the sight of him, long, thick and ready. your mouth waters at the view, and his eyes widen when you begin to lower your head towards his begging, leaking tip. slowly, oh-so slowly.

logans large hand cups the back of your head, easily engulfing you in his grasp as he guides you lower until he feels it. your tongue. it teases across the tip before you're suddenly wrapping your lips around him. his eyes widen further, letting out a grunt as you take him by surprise.

"holy fuck," he huffs in a grin, "hungry for my cock, huh baby?"

you know now that your control is gone, given up happily and submissively. you know it in the grip he has on your hair, the way he's easing you up and down on his cock. and you'd give him everything if you could, the stars in the sky, the whole world if it were possible.

"that's it, get me nice and ready. . ." he mumbles, losing himself a little in the pleasure, the words dripping from his tongue like honey.

you're not sure what deal logan made with the devil to have the ability to talk as sweetly yet as filthy as he does, as well as he does, but you feel entirely grateful as his sinful words serve to dampen your underwear. you moan against his hardening cock, savouring the way every prominent vein feels against your soft tongue.

he pulls you back, looking into your lustful hazy eyes. you look so pretty like that, he thinks, lips red and swollen from sucking so well, eyes hooded and unfocused because you're thinking about how good that cock would feel stuffed deep somewhere else.

"c'mere," he coos, a hand on your hip guiding you forward to sit closer on his lap, "we need to get you nice and ready too, don't we?"

a growl rumbles from the back of his throat as his eyes travel down the path of your body, resting at the apex of your thighs. he purrs in delight when he notices you're already soaked through to your shorts. "wow, that worked up just from suckin' my cock, baby? you really do want me. . ."

you're bright red, shifting needily on his lap. it's always like this, he drives you to the brink of insanity with need before he's even started. you crave him, crave that thick length filling you so perfectly like it always does, and fuck, you'd give him a baby, you'd give him a hundred babies if it meant you get to experience this over and over again.

"shh," he whispers, his thumb snaking down to tease you through your shorts, applying just enough pressure to have you panting, "there we go, gettin' you nice and ready for my cock, my pretty girl. . ." his eyes flit to yours before returning his gaze to the soaked fabric.

"i am ready," you whine through a choked moan. you're literally dripping.

logan shakes his head, tutting, "tsk, tsk. . . need you extra ready for what i'm gonna do to you, you think i'm just gonna cum in you once?"

holy fuck. your head spins, reeling at his words as you feel your pussy clench around nothing. the ache between your legs grows, almost unbearable, pleading to be filled, used. his name leaves your lips in what can only be described as a needy mewl.

"no," he continues, grabbing your chin and pulling you closer, "see baby, i'm gonna cum in you, over and over. 'till you're nice and full, it's all i've been thinkin' about." his breath ghosts against your lips, "and you're gonna take it like a good girl, aren't you? gonna give me another baby?"

you moan breathlessly, how can you even respond to that? instead you nod quickly, swallowing hard as you try in a futile effort to stop your head from spinning.

but he loves you like this, needy, panting, desperate for his cock. sure, he might have been the one blushing earlier, but you're certainly a pretty shade of red now.

"use your words," he whispers against your lips, teasing you with the promise of a kiss, and a whole lot more.

you feel yourself clench again, his thumb still rubbing soft circles against your clit through your shorts, "please."

"please what?" logan grins, loving how your face twists in frustration.

a whine, "please fill me up, want to give you another baby, please? please, fuck, just fuck me."

he can't help but laugh softly at the needy words spilling from your lips in a desperate attempt to coax him inside. and it's working. his body thrums with pleasure as he remembers how good you feel, how he fits inside you like you were made for him, how good you take it when he gets a little rough.

"that's a good girl. . ." he hums, gripping your hips and flipping you over onto your back. his towering muscled form looms over you, your body opening up automatically, legs spreading and hands by your head. you want him to take you, take all of you. now.

"love this body, was made for me y'know. . ." logan mumbles lovingly as he kisses his way down the column of your throat, hands rubbing at your hips before they begin to inch up your shirt. it rises until it covers your face, and he keeps it there as he nips at your chest. "hm, no bra?" you feel his devious smirk against your skin, tongue beginning to flick teasingly at a nipple.

your back arches, the sensations amplified by the loss of sight. fuck, he loves to watch you squirm like this, and those noises you make. . .

he gives equal attention to both nipples, licking and sucking and kissing your breasts with increasing intensity, smirking all the while. finally, he pulls the shirt from your head, your breath catches in your throat as you look down at him and meet his hungry gaze.

logan begins kissing along your tummy, nuzzling against your soft skin, so close to where you want him yet so far. you want to beg, but you don't get the chance, because soon he's pulling down your shorts along with your underwear. he's greedy too.

kissing the skin that's exposed to him, his kisses trail down your mound, ending at the top of your glistening slit. "ah," he grins, eyes glowing like a man of great discovery, "there she is, she's missed me huh?"

all breath escapes your lungs as he licks a stripe along your pussy, groaning at the taste as he does so. he buries his face in you, licking and nudging your clit with his tongue as he devours you. logan swears it feels better for him than for you, could eat you out all day, but that's not what he's here for this time.

"you're so wet, holy fuck," he swallows, panting softly against your skin, "so good for me, so good, just-" giving a few quick kisses to your pussy, he pulls back and removes his shirt, "don't move."

you almost laugh, why would you want to go anywhere? with a man like logan who worships the ground you walk on, kisses you like it's the first time every time and fucks you within an inch of your life every time - you'd be crazy to want to be anywhere else but here, beneath him, where you belong.

he's worked himself out of his jeans and boxers too, admiring the view beneath him as he takes his cock in his hand, slapping it against your slit. with each squeak that escapes you, his smirk grows wider, "love those noises you make, just for me."

you gasp and arch your back as he begins to rub his tip against your wet folds. you're not sure who he's teasing more, himself or you. a moan slips from your lips each time his cock glides up against your clit, sending sparks to your core.

"that's it, feel how hard i am?" he whispers, "yeah, gonna cum so hard in that pretty little pussy, baby, is that what you want?"

you can hardly take it anymore, "god, yes."

he grins, positioning himself as he hooks your knees on top of his arms as he presses down, almost folding you in half. you gasp and grip the sheets at this new position, and gasp even louder as he quickly and easily slips inside of you. "fucking hell," logan huffs, "i hardly even had to move, you want it so fuckin' bad don't you? feel how deep i can get like this?"

and god, you can. you're not sure you've ever felt him this deep. all you know is how good it feels, his cock straining against your tight velvet walls, finally filling you.

when he begins to move, it's like nothing else. he starts at a slower pace, slow deep strokes as his hips meet yours, driving his cock even deeper as you open up to him. his eyes flutter shut and you admire him above you, knowing you're making him feel as good as he's making you feel.

you find your voice again, and speak up, "your cock feels so good baby, don't stop. . ." you get what you secretly wanted, a moan sneaks from his lips. it's soft, wanting, mirroring the need in your own voice. "fuck, love it when you moan for me. . ."

his eyes snap open, a flash of vulnerability and then his lips are crashing against yours. he kisses you with a deep passion as he moves inside you. logan loves the man he becomes when he fucks you, loves that he can let go, be soft, be rough, be whatever he feels. you'll accept him either way, because you're always a spent mess in the end. all for him.

"takin' my cock so well, always do," he huffs against your lips, driving himself a little deeper, wet sounds filling the air as he slips in and out, "gonna feel even better when i make you cum a few times, when you're so sensitive, taking every last drop i give ya."

you moan and pant, nodding, wordlessly begging him to continue.

"and you'll take it, huh, baby? take it cus you wanna make me a daddy again?" he growls, pace increasing as he fucks you harder, primal instinct taking over, "wanna make me proud and let me fill you as many times as i can? many times as i want?"

holy fuck, you can hardly think straight. in fact, you can hardly think at all. there's one thing, one thought swirling around the base of your skull, you don't want him to ever stop.

you clench around his thick cock and his brows lower, pressing his forehead against yours as he pounds you into the mattress. the bed is squeaking, begging for mercy as he continues, but you feel too good for him to hold back anymore. "baby please-"

"baby please what?" he snaps back, panting as he leans further into you, pushing your legs back until they're almost at your ears. you'd be shocked at your own flexibility if you could think at all. "please fill you up? please make you a mommy again? please what, huh? speak, baby, i can't hear you."

gasping at his tone, you feel your pussy flutter around him. he's gonna make you cum, fuck, you're gonna cum so hard. "i- baby i'm-"

but he doesn't let you finish your sentence, not that you'd make much sense at this point anyway. his cock twitches inside you, almost begging to be milked, begging to fill you until you can't take any more. "gonna cum?" logan whispers, already knowing the answer.

and you can't answer, because you're a mess, gasping and moaning and writhing as his cock makes light work of your wet pussy. his thick length glides in, and out, driving deep to meet your cervix with every thrust.

"cum on this cock," a firm command punctuated with a deep thrust that knocks the air from your lungs, "c'mon, make me cum, you wanted it, didn't you? want me to knock you up nice and good."

your orgasm approaches, a warmth spreading through your lower stomach, rising and rising each time his hips meet yours in his relentless pace. you want to tell him that it feels so good, but your words get caught in your throat. and all at once, your climax rips through you.

it comes in waves, building until your walls are spasming around him and he's cumming too, hot white ropes of cum pushed deeper and deeper as his pace quickens. you're both cursing, panting as his cock pushes it deeper and deeper as your pussy flutters and gushes.

even as the climax fades, he doesn't falter. "told you," logan growls, leaning up to grip your thighs, lifting your lower half to the perfect angle as he keeps it suspended in the air in his tight grip, "gonna cum in that pretty little pussy as many times as i can, 'till i know you're carrying my baby."

it's so overwhelming, in the best kind of way. you wriggle as he begins fucking you again, the new angle causing your eyes to roll back as he hits a certain spot that has you sobbing. it feels so fucking good, both his words and his actions causing you to throb.

"that's it, i know you can take it," he soothes you, "that's my girl, c'mon. . ."

tears prick at your eyes, the pleasure once again building to a crescendo. you don't want him to stop, don't want him to ever stop. though you're so very sensitive, and so very tired, you don't fucking care, all that matters right now is him and the messy love you're making.

he feels a tightening in his gut, his mind spiralling, obsessed with the idea of having another child with you. "you like it when i breed you?" he whispers suddenly, testing the waters.

fuck, that word. did he just say he was. . . breeding you?

logan feels the way you clench around him at the mention of the word and he grins, "yeah, you like that don't you? take that fucking cock like a good girl, let me breed you."

"please-" you beg, feeling his cock twitch inside of you. he's really into this, and so are you, unlocking a whole new side to one another as he fucks you fervently.

how can he resist when you beg so sweetly? he's so sensitive, but his need for release chases him, overwhelming him with how intense his second orgasm is. he spills into you, gasping and grunting as his grip on your thighs tightens. "oooooh f-fuck," logan groans, "feel that? feel me fucking my cum even deeper?"

you're both lost in pleasure now, and with his stamina you know he's not done yet. he grips your hips, flipping you onto your tummy as he grabs your ass, pulling it up for him. keeping his cock nice and warm inside you, he pauses for a few moments.

"can you take another one?" he asks, panting. he'd never push you past your limits, leaning down against your back to give you a gentle kiss on your neck.

your second release is coming, and though you're exhausted, you need more. "yes," you reply, gripping the pillow as he immediately begins to move.

his head tilts back, his palm sliding down your spine, feeling your soft skin beneath his calloused hand and the sensation of your body bouncing back against him. one hand grips your hip as he begins his movements, slowly fucking you, taking his time.

he knows you're close, and he knows your second release will have him cumming a third time, so he focuses on your pleasure. "that's it baby, taking it so well. . ."

you groan into the pillow beneath you, muffled by the fabric. it all sounds so wet, both your release and his dripping from your aching cunt. you know you'll be sore tomorrow, but who the fuck cares? he's fucking you so good you're not sure you'll ever be able to think clearly again.

he's reduced you to a puddle, wet and begging for more.

"such a good girl for me, lettin' me breed you. . ." his hand trails around your front, tickling down along your tummy until he finds your clit. it's swollen, sensitive, and as soon as he begins to play with you, you're a squealing mess.

he grins against your ear, groaning roughly, "you can take it, know you can, make me cum one more time."

you bounce back against him, feverishly chasing each movement, each time he pounds you sending you spiralling further and further into pleasure.

"gonna fuck a baby into you," he kisses behind your ear, "feel all that cum?"

a whine is all you can manage, sweat causing your hair to cling to your forehead, whole body hot and desperate. all for him, always for him.

"yeah you do, take it," he snarls, huffing as he feels his own release build once more. oh god, this one might destroy him. you feel too good wrapped around him like that, the way your wet pussy takes him in so gladly, cause it's his. you're his.

"'m gonna cum-" you cry, sobbing into the pillow as your thighs shake till you can't take it anymore. you're flat against the bed now, his body behind you, taking, pounding against you relentlessly like a man deprived.

but he can't speak, can only communicate in growls and gasps as he explodes inside you, sending you propelling towards your orgasm. it hits you like a bullet, deep, hard, teetering on painful but quickly replaced with so much satisfaction that your screams sound like howls.

he continues working your clit beneath you, slowing his pace until you're both a sweating, panting mess of limbs.

it takes him a while before he can find words, bringing a hand to your face, tucking your hair behind your ear so he can see those features of yours he loves so much. "you alright?" logan asks with that rare soft voice he adopts when he's caring for you. his warm baritones make everything better, voice alone better than any sex.

"mh," you nod, world slowly returning to you in bits and pieces. he pulls out of you, taking a second to admire how very full of him you actually are. he can't help but bite his lip at the sight, watching as his cum leaks from your tight hole, fluttering from the loss of contact.

"didn't go too hard?" he asks, carefully and tenderly turning you onto your front as he grabs some spare pillows.

you shake your head, a smile curling on your lips as you bask in the afterglow, loving how sweetly he takes care of you. he lifts your hips with ease, placing some pillows below.

your eyes lock on one another and he grins, "what?" he asks, "said i was gonna get you pregnant, didn't i? gotta keep your hips elevated, keep me inside."

a flush falls upon your cheeks and you laugh breathlessly as he relaxes into the bed beside you, nuzzling into your neck. he fits against you so perfectly, arm wrapping around your waist while he presses gentle kisses to your skin.

but you feel a mischevious smirk tug on his lips against you, "what is it, logan," you ask in a drawl, grin taking over your features.

"well, was just thinkin'-"

"never a good idea, you, thinking. just leads to trouble," you tease.

he scoffs, "shut up," before continuing, "what're we gonna name out third baby?"

your eyes widen, "third?" he must have made a mistake, maybe he's too fucked out to think straight. you know you are.

"yeah," he grins, his hand snaking from your waist to rest on your tummy, giving it a gentle pat, "after this one."

"more?!" you gasp, slapping his hand with a giggle. "logan howlett." ugh, he's the worst.

he loves that reaction from you, he thinks it's cute you assume he's joking.

except, he isn't joking.

"yeah, c'mon, you think i'm gonna be able to stop at just two?"

you flush deeper, feeling his warm palm splay across your stomach as you tilt your chin down to look into his eyes.

"need names. lots of 'em." logan's eyes sparkle, he's trouble, always has been, and you love it. but you start to wonder if you should have bought a bigger house.

"start makin' a list. now."

[jinxvex]

heyy! if u take requests i was wondering if you would make an enemy sevika x reader, where they treat each other like shit until sevika has enough and fucks the shit out of reader 💪😊

♱ enemy. (enemy!sevika x reader) ♱

enemies to lovers is lowkey my fave trope so, let’s go!!

also sorry i haven’t posted! finals week… 🫠😓

cw: nsfw, kink city LOL!! sevika is v rough + punishes reader, possessiveness, BDSM elements, BREEDING KINK (oops), name-calling (slut, whore, bitch, etc), degradation/praise, cursing, arguing, a tiny bit angsty, spanking, she slaps your cunt once, choking, hair-pulling, doggy position, she eats you out!! it's sweet towards the end dw!

there's def more but OOP-

wc: 4.2K! (oops)

sevika hates you.

1. she hates the way your hips sway when you walk.

she’s definitely ALWAYS looking at your ass.

2. she hates how you talk and how you giggle under your breath when you laugh at something you shouldn’t. your voice sounds like music, like wind chimes in the spring that cause her vision to blur.

3. she hates the way your skin glows in the sunlight—as rare as it is in the gloomy grey atmosphere of zaun.

4. she hates how you dress and style your hair. you stand out. you personally customize your clothing, adding your own detailing on platform boots, jeans, jewelry, belts, accessories, tops, and jackets. your uniqueness annoys her beyond belief.

“what a fuckin’ show-off! this isn’t a fashion show,” she mutters under her breath to get a rise out of you.

5. she hates the way you talk back to her, even when she starts an argument first.

“well maybe you could learn something, you wear the same shit like… every day,” you respond briskly, already sick of her berating you as you’ve just walked through the doors of silco’s office.

she’s older than you, you should show some respect! you act so high and mighty like nobody can crack that tough persona you put on to protect yourself from the dark and dangerous streets of zaun.

she scoffs. her thumb and index finger pinching the bridge of her nose to alleviate the stress you’ve subjected her to. she cannot believe this.

“see? this… child is so incompetent! fuckin’ impossible to work with! she’s probably late to this meeting because she’s too busy playing dress up to actually do her job.” she directs towards you although not looking at you, opting to look at the tall chair covering silco’s body as she sits in the chair across from his.

silco sighs, clearly annoyed at both of your antics. he swivels around in his chair to face you both.

“actually, she was doing something i assigned her to. last minute, but she always gets the job done.”

sevika’s eyes flicker to you, and you smirk at her assumption that you were accidentally late.

she scoffs again and drags her grey-ish eyes back to silco as she leans to the left, almost trying to get away from you standing at her right with your arms crossed.

“you see… you two are my best. i cannot afford to have you both acting like children when doing business. it could threaten everything i’ve—we’ve built. one wrong move could tarnish this.”

you and sevika stay quiet as you avoid eye contact with each other, you taking a newfound interest in the bookshelf as sevika’s eyes burn holes into the ground. you knew deep down that silco was right.

“it's time you’ve both gotten along, for all of our sakes. don’t disappoint me again.”

…

you haven’t seen sevika since silco’s ‘lecture’ he gave you two a couple of days ago.

it's evening in zaun, streets and bars filling with people as the night threatens to begin.

you sat on the couch in the living room of your tiny yet, surprisingly homey apartment. your legs resting on the coffee table and you busy munching on cheap snacks, reflecting on the conversation that took place not too long ago. you were livid.

i mean, what else more did he want from you!

sevika was impossible. you tried to get along with her in the beginning but no matter what, she hated you!

she constantly finds new ways to poke fun at you, belittle you, and insult your intelligence. she obviously thinks you aren’t worthy of being a part of silco’s inner circle and that offends you.

and yes, she’s incredibly hot, but all of that was overshadowed the moment she decided you were a piece of gum on her boot!

you sigh incredulously, “damn… i need a drink.”

…

a few minutes later, you’re walking into the last drop and making a beeline for the bar.

as you sit down, your hands graze the edges of the countertop and you close your eyes briefly to let out a breath you’ve held in your throat for…

who knows how long?

that garners the attention of thieram, the kind bartender whom you’d had polite conversation with in the past. you’d taken quite a liking to his kind personality in the past.

“what would you like tonight, miss?” he smiles at you.

as you rummage through your mind for something to order, there isn’t much.

you aren’t a big drinker so it was hard to decipher what was good and what wasn’t because you simply don’t know.

“she’ll have the whiskey, best you've got.” you hear a gruff voice come from behind you. you hear the person’s rough steps come to a stop beside you and they sit.

“ugh.” you scoff out loud and roll your eyes dramatically as you avoid looking in her direction to your right.

sevika.

“coming right up…” thieram, not even wanting to know, swiftly walks off to make your drink.

“what do you want?!” you huff out in annoyance as you finally bring your head up to make eye contact with her.

“nothin’… just enjoying you strugglin’ to order. jus’ was painful to watch, doll.”

your eyebrows raise as your mouth opens and closes, you not exactly knowing how to respond. especially to "doll".

although her tone indicates that she was merely joking, you retaliate against her anyway for the way she’s treated you in the past.

“i- you know what?! if you’ve just come to gloat and make me feel like an idiot just go right ahead and fuck off!” you state. causing a vein to pop out of your forehead and your left eye to twitch in pure anger.

“i’m not in the mood for your shit” you restate your previous point.

“y’know? you’re such a pain in my ass. always bitching and complaining about everything, always in the way, you’re unbelievable.”

you pause your movements, surprised at the lengths she’s going to make you feel terrible.

“i think you look weak.” she finishes, smirking as your eyes threaten to spill with tears out of rage.

“you’re such. a. fucking. bitch.” you emphasize the b in the word bitch as you leap off your chair and stomp out of the bar, trudging back to the comfort of your own home.

thieram walks back over to the side of the bar you were just at and his face scrunches in confusion.

“uh… where’d she go?” he questions as he raises his hands, one hand occupied with your drink.

sevika is still sitting with her mech hand pressing into a tight fist on the counter and her human hand tightly squeezing the bridge of her nose.

she makes up her mind as she stands up and makes her way to your apartment, already having memorized where you lay your head at night.

tonight, you’ll learn respect. obedience.

…

you’ve just made it back to your apartment and you’re slamming the door shut. as you pace back and forth from your kitchen to your living room you’re met with complete and utter silence that taunts you.

“how do i let her get to me? every. single. time.” you’re thinking, mentally cursing yourself for being so stupid. for letting her see you upset.

you hear a loud knock at the door and you pause all moments, as you make your way to answer it, your thoughts race with ideas of who may be at your doorstep at this time of night.

you open the door and you’re met with none other than the sight of sevika. both of her hands clench into fists at her sides as she gazes at you darkly.

it’s almost eerie, her silence. you sense something in her demeanor that is different than usual. it feels… scary.

you both say nothing as she pushes her way into your home, back turned to you as she stops in her tracks.

“wha- what the fuck? g-get out!” you scream out.

her head cocks over her shoulder, one eye looking back at you in a silent warning.

you slowly back up against the door as she turns her full body around to corner you against it. her stare pierces deep into your soul, you feel as though a knife has been jabbed into your gut.

sevika is a scary woman. you know you stand no chance against her strength. that frightens you slightly but you hold your head up high and maintain eye contact with her to stand your ground.

her hands are placed on either side of your head, pressing into the rough, wooden texture of the door. you hear the wood creaking when she leans in, nose brushing against yours. the silence is deafening.

"hmm..." she cocks her head to the right, still looking deep into your irises.

"sevika, l-let me go. what are you doing?!" you try to reason with her but she is unwavering as she takes her mech hand and trails it dangerously slowly up your body from your thigh to your bare stomach, then your arms.

it lands on your neck and wraps around it loosely as a scare tactic. it works as your eyes widen and your shaky hands come up to move the machine off you.

your legs start to weaken and your eyebrows furrow as your underwear pools with your desire.

"so fuckin' pathetic, you are..." she growls, tightening around your neck, not too tight. but tight enough to where your breath hitches in your throat and you're slightly gasping for air.

"y'know, was gonna try and get along with you tonight, doll."

the pet name makes the wetness in your panties become unbearable.

she continues, "ordered you a drink, cracked a joke 'n everything..."

"but, you're a brat to your core, aren't you? should make you apologize..."

an idea pops into your head, another way to disrespect her. you ponder in your head about how you shouldn't. against your better judgment, you say it anyway.

"make me, then,” your eyes flicker down to her lips.

her cocky expression falters slightly—her eyes threatening to look down at yours as well. and if looks could kill, you would die instantly.

"show me your fuckin' bedroom. now."

you're then peeling yourself off of the door. she takes her hand off your neck and backs up to let you pass. you drag your feet, walking slowly to irritate her further. she doesn't like that one bit.

you feel a hand brush the back of your head and she's harshly pulling you up against her chest by your hair. you feel her warm breath tickling your ear, getting ready to humiliate you even more.

"f-fuck! ow!" you yelp out in pain.

"nuh-uh. hurry the fuck up. move." she whispers into your ear.

sevika lets you go, roughly pushing your head forward to emphasize her point. you decide not to push her as you speed up.

as you enter your room, you let out a shaky breath, scared yet excited about the events about to take place. you're not facing her when you hear your bedroom door slam shut. you stop dead in your tracks.

"what-uhm, what's gonna happen?" you question.

you gasp out in surprise as she spins you around to face her and pushes you onto the bed. your ass rests on the edge of it and you're sitting up straight. sevika towers over you, way taller than usual. she looks like she could devour you as she's undressing you with her eyes.

"gonna hurt you, sweetheart. gonna punish you for being such a mean little brat." she smushes your cheeks together with one hand, causing your saliva to pool from your mouth and wet your lips.

"should've done this ages ago... maybe you'd be better behaved by now."

"p-please. i-'m sorry."

it kills you inside, that you secretly love this. you secretly love the idea of her touching you. punishing you, hurting you until you’re utterly ruined.

you’ve dreamt about this moment in light of all the arguments, yelling, and fighting.

in one swift movement, she stands you back up and takes your place on the bed looking up at you hungrily.

“bend over my knee,” she demands.

you feign disgust, and fear, “wh-what?! n-no i-”

“lay the fuck down, and bend over my knee before i spank your ass raw.”

you obey. she scoots back further on your bed so you can maneuver your way to lay your stomach across her thighs. your upper body and legs rest on the bed as your ass is slightly positioned in the air.

you can’t see her face, but you know sevika’s smirking as she’s finally got you where she wants you.

she coos at you, tugging slightly at the loose shorts you threw on after you got home from the bar, “look at you in these little fuckin’ shorts, so slutty.”

she slides her hand up your outer thigh, moving closer to your ass.

all of a sudden, she pauses her movements.

she leans down, her mouth next to your ear, “we can stop at any time. jus’ let me know, doll.”

your heart clenches at her words, feeling the intense emotion behind them and now knowing deep down that she doesn’t want to actually hurt you.

it turns you on even more.

“want it vika, p-please.”

she lets out a sound that’s of a groan and a growl, “fuck yeah, baby. gonna punish you—gonna make it hurt,”

“gonna take it? gonna be a good girl for me?”

“ye-yes! yes!”

sevika hooks the fingers of her human and mechanical hand under the waist of your shorts and roughly tugs them to the floor.

“fuck… no panties too? my god,” she admires you.

you say nothing as her hand finds its way back to moving up your thigh and finally grips your ass, kneading the plush flesh.

“gonna actually do anything or?…” you get cocky, too impatient to feel her hands on you.

a loud ‘SMACK!’ sounds throughout the ambient space of your bedroom, the pain searing into the skin of your right asscheek, making you scream out into the bedspread.

“fuckin’ brat, like i said.”

you’re met with another ‘SMACK!’ in the same spot. you scream out again except this time, it sounds a hell of a lot more like a moan.

“can’t believe you’re gettin’ off to this. bein' my little painslut…”

she hits you again, “you like when i hurt you? don’t you, baby?”

“yes!” you’re repeating, face still smushed into the blankets.

“what was that?” she presses further as she tangles her hand into your hair and yanks it upwards.

“f-fuck! yes, yes!”

she spanks you again and again, alternating between each cheek until you’re sobbing.

although she hadn’t spanked you more than 15 times, you felt as though it was 10 times that much.

she’s soon rubbing a soothing hand over the expanse of your ass, attempting to calm the ache in your ass while neglecting the one in your cunt.

“my girl. did so good for me, baby. so, so good.”

she sits you up and props you up next to her. you wince as your ass meets the surface of your bed.

“we’re not done. gonna make this pussy feel so good, i’ve been neglecting her haven’t i?”

“mhm…touch me please.” you’re out of it, eyes lazily gazing into hers.

“suppose i should reward you?”

her hands caress the sides of your neck and she captures your lips in a gentle and passionate kiss.

as her lips meet yours, the world is silent, all you can think of is sevika.

the kiss soon turns sloppier, needier. your tongues clash against one another causing saliva to drip down both of your chins.

it’s disgusting really, the definition of swapping spit.

neither of you seems to care though. you both moan through the kisses, gripping at each other.

she breaks the kiss to tear your shirt off your body.

“such pretty tits… so beautiful.”

you lean in and peck her lips, “want you bad, vika. please just fuck me already,” you beg.

“you’re beggin’ me?”

“yeah,” you respond.

“fuckin’ beggin’ me, huh?”

“fuck yeah, baby,” you respond another time, your bedroom eyes never leaving hers.

this back-and-forth dirty talk makes the both of you so wet, that the need between you increases with each exchange.

“you don’t even realize how much of a whore you sound like when you say that shit, baby."

oh, you know.

“i love it,” she doubles back.

“gonna eat you first, get you ready for my cock.”

you pause.

‘she didn’t… did she?!’ you exclaim in your head, incredibly surprised she brought an entire strap-on to your house.

“mm… back the fuck up, lean up against the headboard.”

you do as she says, spreading your legs for her in the process.

“good fuckin’ girl.”

she kisses down your neck, stomach, and thighs—her mouth now dangerously close to your naked cunt.

“perfect pussy… so pretty and wet.” she blows cold air on it, admiring the way you clench as she does so.

she laughs out loud, “you’re clenching around nothing, baby… you need this dick in you.”

you don’t even notice you’re looking up at the ceiling, you then look down at her between your thighs—you notice her pants are pulled off. her mech hand is gripping her black plastic cock through her boy shorts.

it’s huge. you’re not sure if it can even fit inside you and that makes you crave it more.

you moan at the sight, “mhm! yes! need it in my pussy. wanna cum on it.” you manage out. your brain is mush!

“soon,” she promises.

she suddenly delves into your pussy, tongue experimentally licking around your folds, then your hole, and your clit.

you’re on cloud 9. your cunt twitches with need because you can feel every detail of her mouth dragging along your heat.

your moans are uncontrollable as she’s practically making out with your cunt, her spit drips onto your clean bed as she’s sloppily eating your pussy out.

she’s nasty with it, spitting on it, getting it dripping wet for you to take her.

“fuck! please!! gonna cum!” you yell out.

all of a sudden, you’re met with cold air. and your cunt is met with a thought to be forgotten ‘SMACK!’

you yelp out in pain and pleasure, the mix too overwhelming for your poor pussy to handle.

“you cum when i fuckin’ tell you to. ask me if you can come next time.”

“‘m sorry vika! promise i won't do it a-again.”

“yeah, yeah. turn around.”

you whine at the loss of her mouth on you; it just feels so good. but you listen anyway.

you’re in doggy facing the headband with your back slightly arched as you look back at her behind you.

she lifts her shirt over her head; she has nothing on underneath, giving you a full view of her sculpted abs. you graze them with your fingertips, amazed at how beautiful she is.

“beautiful, gorgeous…” you state to her and your eyes meet hers once again, showing her you mean what you’re saying.

she huffs out in…shyness? she looks down at the bedspread below you two and she tugs down her boy shorts, throwing them next to all of the other clothes that are splayed out on the floor.

“gonna put it inside, alright? gonna make you feel it.”

you look forward and your eyes trace the design of your headboard, anticipating her cock pushing inside of you, anticipating the delicious pain.

she eventually does push the toy inside of you, bottoming out quickly.

she gives you a moment to adjust. you both are breathing heavily and your nimble fingers grip at the sheets, mouth forming into the shape of an o because she’s so fucking deep.

one of her hands comes up to force your face into the pillows. she starts to move her hips slowly.

“fuuuuck, doll. arch that back,” she can feel the slow grind of your hips on her clit as you press back into her and arch slightly.

it’s not enough for her. she presses her other hand into the small of your back to truly get it so she’s as deep as she possibly can go in this position.

“oh my f-fucking god!” you’re moaning into the pillows, still as loud as if you were screaming.

she’s sped up now, her plastic cock digging into you swiftly yet deliberately.

“yeah…arch that shit, gimme that pussy, baby.”

“fuck, fuck, fuck,” you’re still moaning into the pillow. you can feel every ridge, every detail of her.

your pussy twitches with need, your slick dripping down your thighs, cunt squelching and eyes rolling to the back of your head because of the rough way she’s handling you.

“can feel you around me, i swear. you’re so tight, baby, s-shit…”

she’s bullying your cunt relentlessly and her dirty talk is making you so unbelievably wet.

“you love this dick, don’t you? you love when i fuck this pussy, huh?”

“yes, vika! yes! just like that! love it!”

“say you’re sorry. say you’re sorry for being such a bratty little bitch.”

“hmmph!” you defy her, for fun perhaps.

she slows down tremendously compared to the pace she set before, giving you shallow thrusts to match your attitude.

“say you’re fuckin’ sorry or I’ll make sure this pussy never cums again. you’re only cumming from me, so you’ll do what the fuck i say.”

whew.

“c’mon, baby say you’re sorry so i can give you this dick. gonna make you cream on it so good if you just let go,”

she continues, “i know you want it… know you want it in your guts. know you want my cum in you," she's delirious.

gripping your hip with her free hand and your hair with the other, she lifts your head out of the pillow so she can hear you better.

you cave.

“i’m sorry, i’m so so sorry, baby. i promise i’ll be good! pleeease just fuck me! need you. need your cum…”

she leans down and kisses the small of your back, “see, now how hard was that?!”

she moves her hips at a faster pace than before, seemingly deeper as well. your face has found its way back down, voice muffled into the sheets.

“yeah, baby, take this shit—take it aaaaalll in this fuckin’ pussy. pussy’s so good for me.”

“oh f-fuck, ‘s so deep!” you look back at her once again. her teeth are biting into her bottom lip, hips snapping against your ass as she stares down at you wildly, watching the toy disappear inside of you.

you then meet her eyes, completely cockdrunk. you beg her again, “please v-vika… need your cum in my pussy. need you to knock me up.”

“give it to me, give me your cum! want it deep in me, wan’ it!”

she growls out, “f-fuck shit’s gonna make me cum.”

“fuckin’ pussy is sucking me in, gonna make me get you pregnant, baby,”

her hips are still pistoning into you, the room filling with sloppy wet noises and smacking skin.

“i’m b-begging you to let me cum, p-please!” you’re still looking into her eyes, kindly asking her for permission to soak her faux dick.

“who’s fucking you then? say my name, doll.”

“you, sevika! you!! you’re the only one,”

“fuck yeah, you whore. ‘m the only one that’s gonna be in this shit from now on. that’s right…”

“plea-”

“cum. i want you to cum on this cock, make it yours. cum all over it,” she’s thrusting against your g-spot as deep as she can with one of her legs on the bed and her hands on your hips. you have no choice but to just, take it.

her words cause the coil in your tummy to snap, your orgasm crashing down on you like a brick to your head. like if a large rock were to crush you and kill you instantly. it’s rough, it’s overwhelming.

“fuck!!” you scream through it.

“i’m cummin’ too!! not gonna pull out. i’m gonna put a baby in you, get you nice and full,”

“mhm!! yes!”

the combination of you urging her on and the pressure of her hips and your ass fucking back onto them causes her movements to stutter, “s-shit!”

her orgasm washes over her much like yours, both her hands on your hips making it easier for her cock to kiss your cervix and for her clit to feel it.

you both eventually come down from your highs. sevika pulls out of you and quickly yanks the toy off.

you’re still in the same position so she presses down on your back to get you to rest your body on the comfortable and soft surface of your bed. you’re expecting her to tug her clothes back on and leave, but she doesn’t.

she praises you for the rest of the night, rubs aloe gel on your ass to soothe the welts, and loves on you as if she’d never hated you in the first place.

“you did so good, baby.”

“i’m so proud of you, you’re amazing.”

“you’re so pretty… you’re mine now.”

…

needless to say… she’s ruined you for everyone else. your petty rivalry long forgotten and replaced with the feelings that you’ve both been hiding. and as you’re both waltzing into silco’s office for a second meeting, he’s hoping for but not expecting for there to be a change in your relationship.

he is stunned when he’s met with no more eye rolls, scoffs, and bickering.

‘wonder what’s gotten into the two of them…’ he wonders.

well, something has definitely gotten into you.

…

I AM SO SORRY I HAVEN’T POSTED!! finals are over so i am free from the shackles of college! (for now…)

hope you guys like it! tbh this took me forever because i couldn’t figure out the plot LMFAKOW😭😭

[cindol]

so… more old money!sukuna.

cw — kuna is in his 40s, reader is in her mid 30s, oops sukuna, sukuna is dumb with computers, reader is very calm and collected, rushed smut, pussy eating, crack/fluff at the end,

sukuna ryomen x fem reader

old money!sukuna is a opposites attracts kind of person when it comes to love, it’s exactly why he has you as his wife now. In his 40s he’s more calm and laid back but in his prime early 20s, but that was another story for another day.

sukuna was smart it’s how he had a such a successful career and company but he couldve never done without you, his calm and collected wife.

When he was puzzled by something on his computer you were there to help. While he clicked buttons on his new brought computer you were standing behind him humming.“well dear, have you tried turning it on?”

when you don’t get a response back you pat his head.“well let’s start with that yes? And maybe if there’s a problem beyond that we’ll reboot it or return it back or perhaps give it off to a younger relative.”

your a big helper with paper work too. He never overworked you knowing how paper work can be hectic, so you always sat next to him in your own chair skimming through paperwork with him.

even his own style you had a hand in, while trying suits on your opinion was needed to him.“I think that red suit with a pink flower or even a fake pink rose would go good yes? It would show everyone the man of the hour at this event.”

Although, when you stressed was a different story and where sukuna could dominate.

your professional image was torn down in the master bedroom. Your usual neat low bun messy and the high neck sleeveless grey dress you wore discarded with your jimmy choo heels off in the corner somewhere.

With your back pressed to the bed and your thighs on his broad shoulders and cries coming from your usual monotone voice as he ate and slurped at your pussy.

For sukuna it was always amusing just to see your image of this professional woman break apart when you were so needy. He switches from eating you out sloppily from small kisses on your clit to make you moan more for his amusment.

“it’s so fun y’know? Just seeing how my little office wife just breaks when you give her some small pussy kisses.”

When you whine interrupting his dialogue he chuckled.“don’t worry baby, I’ll feed my needy little office siren’s pussy as much as she needs.” then going back to sloppy eating with your juices dripping onto his jaw as your hands gripped at his pink hair.

When he completely drains you he just leans up in his bed while lighting a cig and staring at your heels in the corner.“should’ve left the heels on, would’ve made it even 10x hotter than it already was.”

“put it on the checklist or something yeah?”

[gogotti]

Simon “Ghost” Riley/Fem! Reader NSFW

Thinking thoughts…..thinking so many thoughts. This is very self indulgent btw 😚 (that’s why it’s she/her instead of “you”). This also isn’t my typical style I just wrote this out so fast cause I NEEDED this to live in more than just my head lmfao

Warnings: ghost being kinda weird, obsessed!Ghost, breeding mentions, reader gets head, massage with evil intentions lmfao, this man is way to happy to have a wife

-

Ghost who’s just a bit too obsessed with the new seargent on the team, who constantly makes sure he’s the one who delivers her paperwork so he can point out the silly little decorations in her office, just so he can learn the name of her desk pets or hear the story behind the figurines and funkos strewn about. He makes sure to get her favorite coffee order once he learns what it is (he definitely didn’t snoop around in her morning trash after kindly offering to take it out), and always makes sure to get some snacks along with it.

He stands a bit too close to her and makes her look up at him over the rims of her glasses- she looks so pretty batting her lashes up at him (she’s literally just blinking). It gets to the point that he leans over her desk while she’s typing away, so focused on her work but making sure to look at him every once in a while as he rants about god knows what. Speaking of, shes so much shorter than him so he gets away with staring at her lips as she rants about some pissy lieutenant on base or the recruits she has to train. He makes sure he doesn’t get caught lecturing them or yelling their ears off in her honor.

He absolutely starts picking up some of her slang and using it mid sentence just to see her face twist in confusion when he uses it wrong or amusement because he uses it at all. Absolutely pretends to not hear her say something just so he can hear the frustration in her pretty voice as she repeats it for the 3rd time (he’s ears aren’t what they used to be, love, that’s all). Loves aggravating her, misplacing things in her office, eating the last of her snacks, all so he can hear how angry she gets when she notices or how whiny she gets when she sees the wrapper in the trash. (Dammit Johnny, how could you do that to her?)

It all begins to overflow when they’re assigned an undercover mission together, newlyweds in a nice gated neighborhood. Unfortunately for them the security feeds in the house are all monitored by the very people they’re trying to expose, so not only do they have to be all lovey dovey in public but also behind closed doors. He takes the news so much better than she (or Laswell for that matter) thought he would and he makes it very very apparent on the drive there that he’s going to make her feel oh so special. He doesn’t hesitate to book hair and lash appointments, he wouldn’t dare forget her nails either (especially not her toes, he’s definitely making sure he has something pretty to suck on).

He knows his restraint is gonna be tested when she greets him at the front door after work, the house smelling like a good home cooked meal, and a pretty apron still tied around her waist. It takes everything in him to not bend her over the countertop and take her when she starts making his plate, all he can do is slowly untie her apron and place it to the side, thanking all the higher powers for his patience.

He can’t stop himself when he comes home late one night, exhausted from hard labor and finding her laid out so nicely on their bed, one of his shirts covering her slightly, just enough for her pretty panties to peak out from underneath. He just plops himself down on her legs and feigns giving her a massage, ignoring her protests that she should be giving him the massage. He lies through his teeth about knowing all the chores she did, and being so proud and thankful and oop…

Well of course he’s gonna be hard when she’s making all those pretty noises as he gets that nasty knot out of her lower back, and he’s also so pent up because he’s been so stressed lately from work and today was extra hard because of this, that, and the third. It doesn’t take long for him to start humping her like a fucking animal, grunting and growling as his stiff cock soaks his work pants with precum. God, her ass is so soft and he could only let the mental image of the recoil fuel his desire further; now hooking an arm under her plump waist and pulling her into him harder than necessary but how else would he give her a sneak peak of what he’s gonna give her later. He knew his cum was leaking through and soaking her panties and he couldn’t give less of a fuck, the only thing crossing his mind was the thought of the little wet spot she’d have herself.

Well, he’d definitely think about making it worse as he ate her out through her panties, listening to his pretty little pup’s whines as she begged him to take them off, to play with his puppy the right way. He couldn’t tell her no, god he’d be so good at following orders, ripping off her underwear so quick and going to town on her pretty cunt. He would make the most obscene noises, all the slurping and sucking, his heavy pants as his tounge greedily lapped at her pussy (you’d think he was the pup with the whines he’d let out when she shoved his head closer).

He’d make her cum three, four times with his tounge, all while pathetically humping the bed. He’d bury himself in her cunt, finally letting her close her thick thighs around his head and suffocate him while he came hard. He isn’t finished of course, now he needs to bury his fat cock in her, make sure he doesn’t waste his next load becuase he needs to breed his pretty wife. So what, if this was a 4 month mission, she signed the papers, fake names or not, she was his pretty little housewife. He wouldn’t stop if she was tired, hell he was fucking exhausted already but none of that mattered, she needed to be satisfied, filled to the brim with cum because he can’t believe he made his wife wait this long for a good ol’ fashioned fucking. He should have fucked her stupid the day he brought her home, all wrapped up in that pretty wedding dress that hugged every single last one of her curves in a way that made him fist his cock that night in the shower.

He’d repay his debts, make sure her cunt was filled as she fell asleep next to him. Then he’d kiss her puffy pussy in the morning, whispering meaningless apologies because he was NOT sorry; he’d make her breakfast in bed and make sure to bring a painkiller on the way back to their room, he could only imagine how sore her thighs were too.

[xechu]

Fluffy, sfw, mild suggestive content, non-curse au, this blog is 18+ mdni

Boyfriend!Satoru who has a complete golden retriever personality with you

Boyfriend!Satoru who is so down bad for you, it physically makes Shoko and Suguru sick, because why in God's name did you choose this obnoxious idiot? ("Gosh, isn't Y/N just so wonderful?" "Yeah, not sure why she chose you when she had other options." "Hey! Out of pocket! We're perfect for each other." Satoru would then scoot over to Shoko and pout, "so what were the other options?")

Boyfriend!Satoru who relishes in compliments and attention of others, but if it crosses a certain line and becomes flirtatious he will instantly give them the cold shoulder. (Only you can flirt with him!!! And to be honest, you aren't exactly jealous when that happens, which somehow makes everything worse. "Baby, didn't you hear what she said to me?" "Hmm, oh yeah" "Aren't you upset by it?" "Well, you are sinfully handsome." "I—ah—ohgodshejustcomplimentedme—but that's not the issue!!!" "???" "I NEED YOU TO NEED ME.")

Boyfriend!Satoru who just wants to take care of you, be with you, and cherish you, but he also respects and admires your independence, strength, and how you have your own goals, it was one of the many things that had drawn him to you in the first place

Boyfriend!Satoru who feels so safe around you. You are his constant, and his only rock. Before you, he never felt like he could rely on anyone else. That's why he swears he will never let you go. ("Satoru, what are you snickering about?" "Hmm, nothing, just thinking about how you're trapped with me…forever." "You're weird." "Only a weirdo for you! You love me." "..." "Right???" "Of course, silly." "Oh, thank god.")

Boyfriend!Satoru who feels like the world is ending when you're upset or crying. He is ready to commit murder on whoever made you feel that way, but if the source is him (it happens) then he just feels like throwing himself into an abyss

Boyfriend!Satoru who when having a down day would still put on a smiling face, it wasn't that he is trying to hide it from you, but it was a habit that he can't break after many years of being like this. You would immediately know when you see that his smile doesn't quite reach his eyes. You would capture his face in your hands and brush your thumb over his cheek. He would give in and surrender to your touch, no words are needed.

Boyfriend!Satoru who would definitely watch Bridgerton, Love Island, Love is Blind, Real Housewives, etc., with you, and could sometimes be even be more enthusiastic about it than you. ("Y/N, I burn for you." "I—you ruined it, Satoru." "Hmph, well, I'm gonna go two for two and ruin something else tonight.")

Boyfriend!Satoru who doesn't cook much, not because he can't but he's never really had to and therefore, never really tried. He does make a divine beef stew, but that was only because he tried to impress you when the two of you first dated, and you complimented him - so from that day forward he perfected the dish. Usually, it's going out for food, takeout, or you do the cooking.

Boyfriend!Satoru who can't keep his hands off of you, not just in a sexual way, but he would always find a reason to touch you, or to hold you. Definitely the type where if you were seated beside him, whether it was dinner outing, or group setting, he would have his arm lounging behind the back of your chair, while drawing circles on your back with his thumb. He also helps you dry your hair often.

Boyfriend!Satoru who is an EDM junkie, and a hardcore Swiftie ("AND IT'S NEW, SHAPE OF YOUR BODY IT'S BLUE—" "Satoru, ow, you're pulling on my hair." "Oops, sorry darling, heh.")

Boyfriend!Satoru who lowkey daydreams about you carrying him bridal style into the reception hall when they introduce the 'Mr & Mrs'. He thinks it would be hilarious because of the size difference, and he could also brag about how strong his woman is. ("Have you met the strongest? Because it's definitely not me, it's my wife.")

Boyfriend!Satoru who doesn't care if you don't want to take his last name, but if you don't then he'll take yours when the two of you get married. In all honesty, he is leaning more towards taking yours. ("Mr. Gojo? I beg your finest pardon?? It's Mr. Y/L/N, I'll have you know I'm a married man now. A husband." "Relax, Satoru, it's just a telemarketer…")

Boyfriend!Satoru who still has a functioning 1st gen Garurumon Digivice that is safely tucked in his desk. ("Satoru, I can't believe you still have this, and it's in such good condition too?" "Of course, it's my most prized possession!")

[mickandmusings]

v. we were happy

part of the 'hangman & honey' series!

summary: Honey's life lately was much like walking on air-everything was light, breezy, full of happiness and excitement. She relishes in it, enjoying her time in Haven before graduation. But if there's one thing Honey knows, it's this: when good things happen to her, the bad things will come tenfold.

word count: 7.4k (oops)

warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI (just to be safe); smut highly implied, but no graphic descriptions besides heavy kissing (i'm not skilled enough for that); descriptions of a panic attack; angst; honey finally getting the important feminine friendships she deserves; notable military inaccuracies

-

"If you give me the slightest hint of withdrawal and abandonment, I would outdo you." -

-

"Jake is going to flip his lid when he sees you, Hon!"

Haley's voice rings in Honey's left ear, the girl delicately twisting Honey's hair into a simple up-do. Sarah Grace nods in agreement, giggling as she brushes a neutral eyeshadow across Honey's eyelids. Honey smiles and gives her own soft chuckle, feeling incredibly out of place-but simultaneously comfortable-with the new experience of getting all dolled up. Of course she'd gotten herself ready for dances with Jake before, but having girlfriends do your hair and makeup was entirely different, as Honey was learning. Haley and Sarah Grace had doted and debated about looks all morning, until they both agreed and settled on a unified look to match Honey's simple black dress.

"The dress alone is going to make him want to take you right there in his backseat," Sarah Grace commented, her laughter bouncing off the walls of the bathroom in the Seresin's spare house.

"Oh, gross, SG! Give Honey more credit than that, her boy has tact, which is apparently something Ethan lacks if he's taking you in his backseat." Haley shakes her head, the sequins of her hot pink dress rustling as she moves around Honey's stool to get the back of her head. Her own blonde locks are pulled into an intricate style atop her head, the shiny hairpins glimmering in the bathroom's ample lighting.

"I think you're both overconfident in your ability to take me from homely to supermodel."

Honey's voice is quiet, but the girls hear her clearly. They're both chatterboxes, but Honey had learned quickly that they were always listening, no matter how timidly she spoke. Both of the girls cut their eyes at her with appalled expressions.

"Homely? What makes you think you're ugly, Honey? You're easily one of the prettiest girls in our class. Guys are just shallow, well, except for your boy," Sarah Grace's face breaks into a smile. Honey blushes, not sure how to accept a compliment like that. She stays quiet as the girls finish their work, but her friends can only stand the silence for so long.

"So, Honey," Haley begins as she pins back a section of Honey's hair. "How excited are you for UT? I mean you only have a few weeks until graduation, and then summer, but then it's all over and you're packing your life away to Austin."

"I'm not packing my life away, Hals, I'm still coming back for the holidays and the long weekends. It's not like I'm never coming back to Haven. I mean-" She pauses and a blush spreads across her face. "I imagine Jake wants to settle down here, get married, maybe start a family. At least that's what he's always said."

"AW!" Haley's outburst makes Honey laugh too. "You two make me SICK! Jake Seresin and his perfect little family, all the other PTA moms are gonna give you hell, girl."

Honey rolls her eyes, pursing her lips as Sarah Grace moves to paint lipstick across them. Honey's heart feels full, and her skin is warm with adoration for the girls in front of her. For the first time in her entire life, everything felt right, perfect even. But if there was one thing Honey knew well, nothing good that happens to her lasts forever. She swallows the doubt rising in her chest and stands as the two girls finally finish. She looks at herself in the mirror-a satin black dress adorns her frame, accenting all of her best features. The pearl hairpins Haley had placed in her curly hair shined in the lights, and, while uncomfortable, the heels on her feet fit perfectly. Her eyes widened, for the first time maybe ever, she feels beautiful. Tears rise behind her eyes, and she blinks quickly in an effort not to ruin the makeup. The action isn't lost on Sarah Grace who gives her a sympathetic look, tears forming in her own eyes.

"It all feels so fast, doesn't it?" Sarah Grace's voice is softer than normal. "I mean, we only just became friends and after this summer, we'll all be in different corners of the country. You'll be in Austin, Haley will be in Tennessee, and I'll be Alabama. It doesn't seem fair, does it?"

She was right, in a matter of weeks, Honey would start at UT Austin, Haley at University of Tennessee, and Sarah Grace at Auburn.

Honey shakes her head as she lets a few tears slip through. Haley is a blubbering mess next to her, her arms gathering around both Honey and Sarah Grace's shoulders.

"I love you guys," Haley's voice wobbles as she squeezes them tightly. "But hey, it's a good thing we all look damn good in orange, right? Otherwise we'd be fucked. And! We can all visit each other for games, since we already have the right colors, right?"

Honey laughed into her friend's shoulder, that sinking feeling of dread coming up her throat like bile. As Haley pulls away, she wipes the tears that had fallen, a smile on her face that didn't feel forced at all.

The girl's emotional moment is interrupted by a sharp knock to the bathroom door, Willie's voice sounding.

"You ladies ready?"

Haley said something in reply, but it didn't quiet reach Honey's ears. She was reeling in emotion, and it felt as if her ears were filled with cotton. Her heart raced, and she couldn't stop her mouth from speaking.

"H-Haley? SG?"

The two girls turn to their friend, her eyes filling with another round of tears. They both shuffle to her side, their own eyes cloudy.

"I, um, I just wanted to say...thanks. For so long I truly thought I was invisible, and I just-," she pauses, flashes of the past eight months playing behind her eyes: sleepovers and movie dates, sitting together at football games, gossiping over lunch. "-thanks for seeing me, for being my friend. You'll never know how much that, uh," Honey's bottom lip quivers. She doesn't have to finish her statement, because they've already pulled her back into a massive group hug. They all three laugh as they part, and Haley grabs her hand as they shuffle out the door to the front yard.

Immediately, Honey feels Jake's gaze on her. She pretends to ignore it for a moment, not wanting to meet his jade eyes after just crying, he'd be concerned. Instead, she leaves him waiting as she talks to Haley and SG before they both break off to their own respective partners. Finally, she meets Jake's gaze, his normally light eyes now dark, full of a longing she had only seen once before. She swallows and gives him a shy smile, approaching him timidly.

"You clean up nice, Seresin," she jokes, feeling almost nervous under his gaze, but never uncomfortable.

"Me?" He finally speaks, his calloused hands pulling her in by her hips. "Darlin', you're always beautiful, but-," he shakes his head. "This look will be in my dreams for a while."

Honey laughs, Jake's lips pressing a kiss to the top of her head as they shuffle over for at least an hour's worth of pictures for Janet. The last picture before they all head out, the obligatory picture under Janet's magnolia tree, was one of Honey smiling at the camera, but Jake stared down at her instead. For anyone from the outside looking in, he was simply enamored with her, and couldn't turn his eyes away. While that was true, Jake knew it had more to do with him trying to memorize the happiness painted across her face, because after tonight, he would likely never see it again.

-

Music thumps in Jake's ears as he sways Honey in his arms. She's a vision below him, and he finds himself unable to keep his eyes (and his hands) off of her. She gives him a smile that dazzles as he spins and dips her to the upbeat pop song sounding from the speakers. She accidentally steps on his toes as he pulls her back in and apologizes, but he pays it no mind, it's not like he could feel it through his dress boots. She had abandoned her heels hours ago at the table they shared with their friends, his suit jacket following not long after. He grins, lifting her over his shoulder without warning, spinning her before placing her back down on her feet. She yelps in surprise, settling back into his hold, it was a move he'd pulled numerous times.

"This isn't a honky tonk! Why are you pullin' out those line dancing moves?!"

She giggles through her words, cheeks rosy with a slightly breathless blush. The action transports them to the summer of their sophomore year, spending hours upon hours in the farmhouse living room in sock feet, desperately attempting to learn the steps to a line dance Jake had convinced her to learn. Jake smiles back down at her, his hands settling on her hips, falling dangerously lower and lower each time.

"Can't I show off a little? Didn't learn all those moves for nothin'," Jake's response intertwines with his cocky smile and a wink. A plastic crown sits crooked on his head, a sash that adorned him 'Prom King' now over Willie's torso across the room. The upbeat pop song slowly morphs into a country love ballad, and Jake pulls her in close. Honey welcomes his touch, resting her head on his shoulder, one of her hands coming to the hair on the nape of his neck, the other resting on his chest. Her hair that Haley had so delicately curled was falling down around her face, and her lipstick that Sarah Grace had spent an hour and a half debating shades of had mostly been wiped away, notably making Jake's lips a little more pink than normal. She nuzzles her nose into the side of his neck as they sway, and Jake feels tingles travel up his spine. His hands pull her closer-if that was even possible-and planted a kiss on her temple.

"Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?"

"Only a thousand times," Honey responds, her eyes now glimmering in the light as she looks up at him.

"Make it a thousand and one, you look beautiful tonight, baby."

He lifts a hand from her hip, pushing stray hair back behind her ear. Honey blushes, hiding her face in his neck again. She's quiet for most of the song, but it doesn't strike Jake as odd, quiet is her usual state of being. The song is fading when he hears her voice over the music.

"Does it feel weird? That everything is happening so fast? I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm glad high school is ending, but...this time three months from now, SG and Haley will be hours away, and we'll be packing up our things and headed towards Austin. I swear to God just yesterday we were nine years old riding bikes up and down the road and now..."

Honey cuts off her own sentence. Jake certainly knew how fast the time was flying. The dread he had been swallowing for weeks was creeping back up, and the guilt of not telling her was beginning to weigh him down completely.

"It's flyin' by, for sure."

She closes her eyes and lets him sway her for the rest of the song, before the sweet song shifts to one more fit for fast-paced dancing. It was late into the night, and it was likely the adults would be kicking them out within the next hour. He waited for Honey's body to detach from his own, but when it never did, he looked down at her. Her eyes meet his, a look of desperation crossing her face. He'd know that look anywhere-she was overstimulated, and ready to go. He pulls her away just a few inches, his hands still lingering on her hips.

"Why don't you go tell the girls you're leavin' and we'll get out of here?"

She was tired of the party, the crowds, the loud music, and was relieved when she didn't have to utter a word for Jake to understand her discomfort. She nodded and shuffled to bid her friends farewell, returning back to their shared table to slide her shoes back on. Jake catches her out of the corner of his eye and approaches her, a confused look written across his face.

"What're you doin'?"

Honey looks up, "Puttin' my shoes on?"

"They hurt your feet, just let me carry you to the truck."

"That's sweet, J, but I'm heavy and this dress-"

"I wasn't askin', baby," His eyes are that same dark shade from before, and she simply swallows her retort.

He sticks his arm out for her to take, her heels now dangling from his opposite hand. She wraps her hand around his bicep until they reach the door, where he scoops her up as if she weighs nothing. Her arms instantly intertwine around his neck, a laugh escaping her as she laughs at the absurdity of it all-Jake Seresin, her childhood best friend, carrying her bridal style to his truck.

"Somethin' about this funny?"

She simply shakes her head and looks up at him, her face hot.

"Just, imaginin' what eight-year-old us would think, ya know? Nine-year-old Honey would've never imagined this. Would the younger you ever picture this?"

Jake doesn't even have to think.

"Yeah, yeah he could. I was in love with you the second I saw you, Honey, I just didn't know it yet."

Honey is rendered speechless, a warmth spreading in her torso and filtering to the rest of her body. Her eyes dart between his own as he slides her into the passenger side of his truck, darting down to place her shoes at her feet, slinging his jacket in the backseat. He goes to close the door, but her voice stops him.

"Jake?"

He looks up at her, an expression drawn across her face that he'd never seen before. He notes her chest rapidly rising and falling with short breaths, her eyes blown wide and dark, her body language radiating a sort of familiar heat that Jake had felt earlier in the night, when he had first seen her in the dress she was wearing.

"What is it, baby?" His voice is barely above a whisper.

She says nothing, bringing his face in-between her hands as she kisses him with a fervor he'd never seen coming from her. His own hands meet her hips, sliding her across the seat and closer to him. It's all lust, clashing teeth and heated kisses, his hands resting too far down her back and gripping her thighs, her lips on the plane of his neck.

She pulls away, breathless.

"We should get out of here."

Jake didn't have to be told twice as he raced over to the driver's side, his hand finding her leg as he peeled out of the parking lot. Her lips placed a kiss on the underside of his jaw as his grip tightened on her, and Jake was thanking the heavens above his grandparents had built that spare house nearly a mile and a half out from their own house. Jake was the epitome of a southern gentleman, never pushing or even insinuating the few intimate acts they'd shared so far, but now, with Honey looking like that, with her lips teasingly caressing his neck, most of his control had flown out the window.

Jake made it to the house in record time (by running a few stop signs and speeding) and all but flung himself out of the truck, pressing his lips fervently against her own as he pulled her from the truck, and was prepared to break down the damn door of the house to get her alone. He tossed his own shoes off at the door, pushing open the bedroom door with his foot as he plopped her carefully on the bed. She gave a soft chuckle, and he hovers over her close enough to feel her heart racing. He brings his hand to her cheek, his eyes meeting hers. His own chest heaves with short breaths, his mind muddled as he gazes into her dark irises. He brings his own lips to her neck and trailed down to her collarbone, the hands on her waist falling lower and lower as he moves his lips down her skin. He stops himself, looking down at her as his voice grows low and serious.

"Are you sure about this, baby? We can stop at any point. We can stop this right now, no pres-"

Her shaky hands fall on either side of his face, her fingers combing through his blonde locks.

"Jake," she pauses, using a beat to catch her breath. "I've never been more sure of anything. I have nothing to hide from you, I want you to do this. I-I love you."

Jake's heart hammers.

"I love you too."

His lips connect with her own, his calloused hand pushing the strap of her dress down her shoulder exposing her bare skin to him. As she revels under his touch, his mind only sees her, and he could not fathom thinking of her in any other way than in her state of pure bliss.

-

Hours later, as the moonlight glows on Honey's bare skin, Jake's momentary euphoria is diminishing. He watches her chest rise and fall as she sleeps, his fingers lightly tracing shapes onto her arm. She moves closer to him subconsciously, her face buried into the crook of his neck. He's wide awake, relishing in the contact as long as he can, because this time tomorrow, he'll be stammering and stuttering as he tells her the truth. His mind goes in circles about the acceptance letter hidden in the boot box under his bed. He takes a deep breath and kisses her temple before closing his eyes and willing his mind to shut off, but the storm swirling in his heart keeps him from resting. Jake instead spends his night watching her sleep, seeing her eyes flutter as she dreams, and thanks his lucky stars for the short time he had in her orbit. As the sun's rays begin to shine through the curtains of the bedroom, Jake's eyes finally began to close with sleep, his dreams peaceful.

Honey wakes with to the blinding sunlight hours later. She squints her eyes at the intruding brightness, before adjusting and opening them fully. She looks up to see Jake’s eyes closed with sleep, his blonde locks tossed about haphazardly. Even in sleep his eyebrows furrowed and she frowned, not liking seeing him in discomfort. She kisses the underside of his jaw lightly, and it causes him to stir just slightly. She shuffles just a bit in his hold, her body tired, but her mind wide awake. He shuffles again before his eyes blink open, and his spare hand rubs the sleep from them before looking down at her. He grins.

“Hi,” she speaks sheepishly, her pointer finger drawing shapes against his bare shoulder.

“Mornin’ baby,” He whispers down to her, kissing the crown of her head as he’s waking up. He knows they need to get dressed and shuffle back up to the house soon, or else his grandparents would be nosing around. Them lying naked in bed together was the last thing he wanted them to see.

“Are you okay?”

Her words take him by surprise. He wrinkles his brows, pushing her still slightly curly hair out of her face, before letting it rest around her waist again.

“M’peachy, darlin’. Why? Do I look rough or somethin’?”

She shakes her head.

“You were frownin' in your sleep, thought you were having a bad dream or something.”

Jake sighs, he wished it was only a bad dream. He painted on a smirk.

“I’m fine, promise. Didn’t get much sleep, couldn’t stop staring at the pretty girl in my arms.”

Honey wasn’t quite sure if she believed him, but she didn’t want to ruin the moment by pestering him.

“Such a flirt, Seresin,” she rises up to rest on her elbows, leaning down to leave a chaste kiss on his lips. “We should probably head back up before the old folks start poking around.”

He nods, another signature grin forming on his face.

“I’ll get up and movin’ as soon as you do.”

Honey plops back down against her pillows, the sunlight on her exposed skin now giving her a sunkissed appearance. It made Jake’s insides flame with want again, and he says nothing before kissing her neck again. She’s underneath him again in a split second, the air filled with the chirping of the morning birds and the sounds of pleasure tumbling from both of their lips. After they both reach their highs, she collapses back onto her pillow, his warm hands pulling her back to his front. He nuzzles his head into the crook of her neck, placing a kiss there as he lightly rubs his thumb against the top of her hip. They relish in one another’s presence in the shared bed, stealing kisses and not-so-innocent touches. They’re both too caught up in one another to realize that time was ticking by faster than they could imagine.

As Jake fell asleep next to her, he dreamt of a life years from now, curled into the very bedroom he’d fallen asleep in, a little different in decor, and definitely some thicker curtains, but she’d been bare beneath him, her sweet sounds filling his ears. He’d collapsed next to her, but when he looked down, a gold band adorned his left hand. When sunlight began to peep from around the windows of the imaginary life he created, he noted the sound of children’s laughter in the next room over. When he woke up to find Honey resting under his chin, his dream had almost felt real, more a glimpse into the future rather than a dream.

-

The cloud they live on seems to float into the next few weeks. It was as if they were finally falling victim to all of the typical teenage love things: sneaking around behind his grandparents back, keeping as quiet as possible while they fooled around with one another in shared sheets. They'd sneak out Jake's window and sneak off to an empty pasture in Jake's truck for complete solitude, just the two of them under a starry Texas sky. Honey had never smiled so wide, and her happiness practically radiated off of her. Jake couldn't help but feel her happiness just by being in her presence, her true bubbly nature on full display for him.

But the day before graduation, they're knocked down from their personal cloud nine.

Honey had left the house early for Haley's-a whole day for Honey to enjoy the warm Texas weather before the stress of graduation tomorrow. She'd been so happy before leaving, bumbling around their shared room in a swimsuit that made Jake's head spin. He'd tempted her to stay behind, all puppy dog eyes and grabby hands. She simply ignored him, grabbing her book of the week off of its designated spot on the bedside table, intending to read it while she sat poolside. She left with a beach towel in hand and a kiss on his cheek.

The second the front door shut with her departure, Jake had been a bundle of nerves, completely on edge as he paced back and forth. By the time he finally settled onto the mattress he had likely worn a hole in the carpet of his bedroom. He had finally procrastinated until the literal very last day, and now he had to burst her bubble with something they could've settled already if he'd just told her. He fumbled with the letter in his hand, rereading the paper over and over as if the words would magically change. His full legal name stared back at him in big, black, bold letters, almost taunting him.

'Mr. JACOB T. SERESIN III

1021 SERESIN FARM RD.

HAVEN, TX 77382

Dear Jacob,

I am pleased to invite you to join the United States Naval Academy as a member of the class of...'

Jake stopped, he didn't need to read anymore. He already knew what it said, and it wouldn't change. He'd already sent his acceptance, and, in less than a month he'd be on his way to Maryland for his summer. He slammed the letter onto the empty spot on the bedside table, throwing on his boots and heading towards the barn in an effort to focus his attention on something else. He worked silently, only his grumbles filling the air as his mind spun with the thousand different ways he was going to explain this to the person who he loved most. He had put it off for far too long, and he had to tell her, today. No more making excuses or putting it off, he would do it, no matter how terrified it made him. He took a deep breath and swiped at the sweat forming on his face as he made his way out to the fence line that needed repairing-that'd keep him busy for a while. As he worked, he was so laser-focused he had hardly noticed the sun beginning to set, or the sound of Haley's car rolling down the driveway. He definitely didn't hear the sound of his girlfriend's sweet laughter as she bid her friend farewell and rushed into the house to find him.

She frowned as she looked on the main floor, finding no signs of him, and she shuffled up the stairs as she called after him.

"Jake, are you up here?"

She noted his open bedroom door, and made her way in. Her shoulders fell as his presence was lacking in the empty room. She shook her head and plopped her bag onto his desk chair and moved to sit her (completely unread) novel onto it's spot on the bedside table, only to find the spot already filled. She assumed the paper was for her, maybe a note left by Jake, so she picked it up and began to read it. Her entire body stilled as she noted Jake's full name in a bold font, his address underneath.

'Dear Jacob,

I am pleased to invite you to join the United States Naval Academy...'

Her heart raced, eyes darting as she skimmed over the fluff of the letter, her attention going back when she noticed dates in bold letters.

'Induction Day is June 27th, which is the beginning of your-"

She stopped reading, her chest feeling tight. She sits down on the bed as she rereads the paper in her hand, as if she had misread the words printed so clearly on the page. Her hands were shaking, and her mind was reeling. She simply could not believe this was real, it had to be some mistake in the system. Jake wouldn't be leaving for Maryland come late June, he was coming with her to UT in August. As her chest heaved, she raced down the stairs with the letter held tightly to her torso. She was thankful Janet and Jacob Sr. had been selling at the farmer's market this afternoon, because her emotions had begun to rise to concerning levels, and if Jake didn't explain, things would get explosive.

When she reached the end of the stairs, she caught his work hat out of the corner of her eye.

"Hey, baby, didn't see you come in," His face is painted with a smirk as he leans against the kitchen counter, glass of water in hand. Honey is having none of his flirtations.

"Jake, what is this?" She lifts the letter so the words were facing him.

Jake's smirk falls, his eyes peering into her own, and he swallows thickly. He says nothing, his mouth feeling incredibly dry despite the water he had just downed.

"This is a joke right? O-Or some mix-up in the system? Maybe you should call them, m-maybe there's another Jacob Thomas Seresin in the system and they sent it to the wrong address, or-" She's shaking her head as she looks down at the letter in her shaky hands. "Because this can't be right. I mean...right?"

Jake looks at her, her chest heaving with short breaths, eyes darting between him and the letter in her trembling hold. She bites her lip, waiting for him to speak, to reassure her it was a big mistake, or a mean prank he'd planted for her, just for him to say something.

He longs to look down and see anger behind her eyes, or for her to scream and shout at him, anything to diminish the pleading look that stares up at him.

"Jake? Talk to me, what's going on?"

He had been quiet for too long. He shakes his head at her.

"I-It's not some mix-up, Honey. I'm going to the Naval Academy at the end of June."

Honey's eyes dart back and forth between his own, trying to understand.

"As like a summer program or somethin'?"

Jake shakes his head again, moving slowly to take the letter from her, grasping her trembling hands into his own.

"I'm attending the Academy full-time. I-"

Honey begins to tune out everything he's saying, as if his words had shut off her ability to think. She stares down at her feet, not sure what to say.

"-I-I wanted to tell you soo-"

"How long have you known?"

Her abrupt words cut him off, and he looks at her confused.

"I-"

"Because I've only heard mention of the Naval Academy once. During football season, and only in passing," She pauses, her once bright eyes now heavy with sorrow. "H-Have you been lying to me this whole time?"

She takes two timid steps back from him, ripping her hands from his grasp.

"Honey, baby, no, I-"

"Don't call me that," her voice is quiet, and when he looks up at her again, her eyes are full of tears that had slowly begun to fall down her cheeks. "This induction d-date, it's less than a month from now. Were you ever going to tell me if I didn't find this?"

Her arms are crossed across her chest, her body language fully on defense. There was no shouting or sharp comments that were fueled by anger, as Jake had expected. Instead of lashing out at him, she simply folded in on herself.

"All these months, everything we talked about. Going to college together, movin' in together, marriage, babies...was it some sick joke to you? Because that shit was real to me, Jacob."

The use of his full name comes as a digging surprise, she only ever used it in a joking manner, but now, she was far from joking. Jake doesn't say anything, standing stupidly as the girl he loves falls apart in front of him. His mind is overrun with things he wants to say to her, to shout from the rooftop, but none of it seems worthy enough at this moment. He's hurt her, in a way he couldn't imagine he ever would, and nothing he could say would fix it.

"I-If you wanted to break up with me," she stops, digging the heels of her hands into her eyes as her lips tremble on the cusp of a sob. She takes a deep breath, one that looks painful even through Jake's own teary eyes. "I-If you wanted to break up with me, yo-you should've just told me, because this, this is so much worse."

Jake's heart sinks, that's the last thing he wanted to do.

"Honey, I'm not breakin' up with you. I-I'm doin' this for you," His chest is rising and falling just as rapidly as hers, but he's not quite as good at pulling the reins of his own emotions. "If I went to UT, I'd waste my grandparents' money takin' classes I would half-ass, and probably permanently damage my body playin' football. I'd come back to Haven after wastin' four years, take over the farm, and stay here forever until I die, n-"

"That's a bad thing? I didn't realize my dreams were so lowly compared to yours." Her voice is sharp. Her uneasiness is now festering in insecurity, and, as a result, anger.

"That's not what I'm sayin'," Jake tries to slow his breathing, desperate pleading with her to just listen to him. "When I go and do this Honey, we'll have a better life. You'll get a gorgeous house on a beautiful piece of land, in any city in the country you want. I'll get to do what I truly want to do for the rest of my life. Honey, I know you love Haven, God, I do too, it's my home, but you and I both know we're made for somethin' bigger, baby."

She can't even bear to look at him, putting almost all of her energy in not collapsing into gut-wrenching sobs in the middle of the tile floor. She shakes her head as she lets out a dry laugh.

"You're so hard-headed, Jake. I already have a gorgeous house on a beautiful piece of land, in the only city in the world I'd want to plant roots in. My house could be a cardboard box next to a dumpster in New York City if you were next to me! You think UT was my dream school, that I wanted to plant my life in Austin?! I chose it because I knew you'd be by my side! That was all I ever wanted! But now I'm realizin' just how girlish and naive that sounds, and I'm sorry. I-I didn't realize you dreamt of somethin' different. I-I just wish you would've told me." She wipes the stray tears sliding down her face, the sad, watery smile he expected her to wear paints her face. She looks back down at her hands, picking at the skin around her nails.

"Congratulations," her voice is so small he hardly hears it. "I know you'll do great, you always do. I, um, I'm gonna go home."

Jake's blood freezes. "You are home."

She gives him another faux smile as she shakes her head back and forth.

"This is your home, Jake. My home is at the end of the road. You know where to find me."

"No," he steps in front of her. "I-I know you're angry, and you've got every right to be. But I'm not lettin' you go back there. You take our bed, I'll sleep on the couch. O-Or we can sleep in separate rooms for now. I'm not lettin' you run off because you're scared I'm leavin'. No matter what you think, I still love you, that's never changin'. I'm not dumpin' you off, Honey, that isn't what this is."

He sees it, the light completely draining from her as the conversation continues. The years of breaking her out of her shell, of healing her eternal worry of everyone she loves leaving, it was all wiped within a matter of minutes. He had carved an open wound into the heart he'd sewn back together, and now, she stands in front of him, numb and completely breaking simultaneously.

Her back is facing him, and his hand lands softly on her arm as her torso shudders with an audible sob. She clutches at her chest as her breaths are short and ragged, and Jake knows this action well. She's panicking, her anxious thoughts culminating in physical symptoms. As much as he, too, wanted to collapse into a pile of grief, he moved to help her through her own.

"Hey, hey, you're okay, you're okay," Jake's voice is at a normal level, his hand grabbing her own and bringing it to his chest. "You gotta breathe, darlin'. C'mon."

Her eyes look up at him, and he doesn't even recognize the person staring back at him. It shakes him to his core, but he pushes through until she's breathing calmly next to him, both of their backs against the counter as they sit on the cold kitchen tile. In an action he doesn't quite understand, she moves to rest her head on his shoulder. She doesn't utter a word, but she allows him to hold her close. She falls asleep against him, and he brings her to his own bed, tucking her in before placing a kiss on her forehead. He moves to leave the room, but her voice stops him.

"Jake?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't leave. Stay with me, please. I don't want to lose you before I have to."

He doesn't argue, his heart is too tender to ever deny her request. He slides into the sheets next to her as she tucks her head under his chin, as if nothing had changed. But, for Honey, everything had changed.

She had been a fool, stupid, to think Jake wouldn't dump her after taking what he wanted from her. Her mother's sharp words rang around in her mind:

"That Seresin boy will dump you the second he gets what he wants, girl. Just you watch."

"You? With a boy like him? You must be more stupid than I thought, sweetheart."

"You're going to end up just like me, lied to, cheated on, with a ungrateful, bitch daughter who hates your guts."

Jake rested peacefully, while Honey saw everything she feared most come alive around her. Silent tears ran down her own face, and as she sat there, she knew what she had to do-if Jake was going to abandon her, she'd follow suit.

-

The night of graduation, after diplomas had been given out and caps had been thrown, Honey and Jake's small friend group had all come together on the Seresin's place, gathered around a bonfire in an empty clearing, most of them nursing bottles of alcohol they had smuggled from their parents' supply. Honey watched as Jake laughed with Brett and Willie, darting her eyes down when Ethan brought Sarah Grace into a smothering kiss as she jokingly pushed him off of her. She felt like the Honey she used to be-sitting idly on the sidelines as life happened to everyone else. She carried a heavy sadness and anger in her chest, one she could never put down, not even with the concoction of various liquids in the solo cup she held, occasionally taking sips. The burn felt nice, an easy distraction from the gnawing of anger in her chest. She smiled as Willie pulled her from her chair and made her dance to a stupid country song, feeling a little lighter as she let loose. One look at Jake had her shut down again, recluse in her green lawn chair. As the night carried on, she looked out at her friend group one last time, memorizing the warm feeling, because it was the last time they would be her friends. Come morning, she'd be long gone from Haven, and, since they were Jake's friends first, she'd lose them.

After the festivities of the night were over and their guests had stumbled back to their own homes, Jake and Honey made their way back inside, carrying out their routine as if it was any other night. Despite the unresolved feelings she carried, Honey refused to let Jake carry them too. She remained neutral, still sleeping in his arms every night, still tagging along at events, as far as he knew, they had three days until he left for the Academy, and he had planned to spend every waking moment with her. He had no idea of the plans that Honey had, the ones that would unexpectedly change his life forever.

The Seresin farm house was eerily quiet. Everyone was asleep as the moonlight seeped in through the thin curtains. At least, mostly everyone.

Under the guise of the darkness, Honey slips out of Jake's arms slowly, moving so carefully as to not wake him up. If he woke up and caught her, she'd never go through with her plan, she'd be sucked back into bed with his encapsulating emerald eyes and his desperate pleas for her to stay. She shuffles across the hall to her own bedroom, sliding the duffel bag she'd packed out from under her bed, sliding on her trusty Converse high tops, and shutting the door behind her. As she shuffles down the stairs with Jake's car keys in her hands, her racing mind thinks of the conversation they'd had just four days prior. She'd been sleeping in his grasp as he whispered down to her.

"My truck," he started, his hands intertwining in her hair. "I want you to take it, to UT. I won't be here to use it, and it'll make me feel better knowing you'll have a way to get back and forth."

She'd protested and fought him on it, but now, as she snuck out of the creaky front door, she was glad he'd done it. She slung her bag into the back seat, sliding into the driver's side, and slamming the door closed. Her chest heaves with anxious breaths, tears already clouding her eyes. She shoves them down and adjusts the seat that had been set for Jake's lanky legs, and turns the key. The local country station comes on, and Honey ignores it, turning her body to look out the back glass and backs the truck out of the yard and down the dusty driveway, ready for the long drive ahead of her. She was leaving Jake in a way that only felt right-he wasn't going to take that from her, she wouldn't be the one abandoned this time-he would.

Jake had woken as he heard her footsteps descend down the stairs. It wasn't unusual, Honey had been up at all hours of the night since the day of their disagreement. He shut his eyes closed again, leaving his arms open for her to slide back into. When the sound of his truck starting fills his ears, he pops his eyes open, not bothering to even throw on a shirt as he takes the stairs two at a time, running through his house and out the front door in only his boxers. He only gets a glimpse of the taillights down the driveway as his bare feet hit the grass of the yard. He's stomping back through the house, not caring much if he wakes anyone. He's lifting the house phone with a quick pace, dialing her cellphone number even quicker. As he expected, no answer. His hands shake, his heart hammers, and he runs back up the stairs to at least toss on a shirt and some shoes, his looks be damned. He was going to grab the keys to his grandfather's truck and take after her, she couldn't have made it further than down the road by now.

When he slams open his door, he notices the letter on his nightstand, because it's out of place. Normally, Honey's book or multiple books rest there, ready for her to pick up whenever. Instead it's a flat, white sheet of paper, and he glares at it as if he could make it catch flames. He snatches it up and opens it, expecting to find Honey's delicate cursive etched onto it in ink. Instead he finds typed letters, Honey's legal first and last name in big, bold letters at the top of the page. She had likely denoted her preferred name, because it was used in the greeting.

"Dear Honey,

Congratulations on your admission to Mississippi State University! For over 100 years, MSU..."

Jake stops reading, his unease turning into flaming hot anger. He slams the letter back onto the nightstand as tears form in his eyes, his chest growing tight with the bout of sobs threatening to fall from his lips. He sits down on his mattress, his head in his hands as he lets his silent tears fall onto the carpet below. How had he not noticed it? Had there been signs? There had been no sudden withdrawal of her affections, no serious changes in her mood. As Jake calms the best he can at the moment, he realizes she didn't mean this in malice, just like he didn't have any malice behind shipping off to the Academy. He loved her, and, at least he hoped, she still loved him. They had been sewn at the hip since they were nine years old, perhaps it was due time they went their separate ways. No matter how much he told himself that this was for the better, he felt alone, empty. At this moment, despite knowing and loving her for over a decade, Jake, for the first time in his life, finally knew exactly how Honey always felt: abandoned.

-

taglist:

@fraaaaankiiiiieee

@djs8891

@unattainablesillygoose

@psuedochakra

@mrsevans90

[sundrop-writes]

One Moment Per Episode With Dick Grayson

Season One, Episode One: "Titans"

Summary:

You and Dick haven't spoken since the Titans parted ways in San Francisco five years ago.

Even though you used to be as close as two people can be, both of you are doing just fine leading your own separate lives - until your psychic powers cause you to have a vision of the end of the world, and you have to turn to him for help. As much as Dick doesn't want to get involved, you know that him leading The Raven on the path she needs to travel is the only way to stop the terrible fate you saw.

He wants to deny it, and stay as far away from you as possible - but he can't avoid you or the truth that you have told him when he runs into that very Raven you speak of in an interrogation room later that night. He has to face a simple truth he has always known: you're always right.

Dick Grayson x Fem!Powered!Reader. Childhood Friends/Exes to Lovers. Emotional Angst and Bantering/Humor. Set during Season 1, Episode 1.

Word Count: 2,300

DC Titans Masterlist | AO3 Link | Series Masterlist

Detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: the reader uses she/her pronouns (some people might accuse the reader character in this story of being more of an OC and I am okay with that - I try to make all the reader characters in my other stories as blank and open as possible and every now and then I let myself have a little bit of a treat) - but as usual with my stories, the majority of pronouns used in the fic are you/yours; other than clothing style and a scar that informs her backstory, the reader's looks are not described and are left vague (as far as race, body type, hair colour, etc. - those things are not described); the reader character does have powers - I might make a separate post detailing the reader's entire backstory and power set (or I might just let it be spelled out slowly through the chapters) - but for now, I will tell you that the reader character is psychic and can see glimpses of the future in dream-like visions; the reader and Dick are 'exes' - their relationship was never official (they never explicitly called each other boyfriend/girlfriend), but they used to have sex often (and they both have feelings for each other that they never openly spoke about), and they are childhood friends, so there is a lot of emotional history there; mentions of canon-typical violence; this fic does use Y/N; mentions of the reader being shot during a past undescribed incident; there is references to sex and discussions of sex, but no explicit smut (but there might be some later in the story? idk yet); emotionally constipated Dick Grayson; idk what else ? - pining, emotional angst, using humor to deflect emotional tension, banter. I just really like the vibes of this. there is not a lot of big content warnings for this fic (yet).

A/N: Honestly, I am really excited about this one. I have a lot of ideas for future episodes (especially the episode where Dick loses it emotionally and just gets followed around by a hallucination of Bruce for the entire episode - but that's not until Season 2, oop). Titans is one of my favourite series ever - if you couldn't tell - so getting to examine each episode closer and appreciate each individual episode as a unique piece of art while writing this instead of binging a whole season gives me a whole new appreciation for the show. I hope you guys enjoy these as they come out - especially because I do have an idea of where this fic is going, but I don't know where I want these characters to go in Season 4. (I kind of want to do a secret surprise reveal of two of the characters being related and being siblings, but... idk. Sometimes people don't like that.) But this is definitely a good opportunity to send me ideas of where you want this story to go/how you want it to end up. Anyway - please enjoy!!!

....

Dick needed some fucking air. 

He could barely fucking handle today. He had to compose himself before he lost it and started breaking things. It was all such a shitshow - the department pushing a new partner on him, footage of Robin all over the news, every other half-cocked beat cop making comments about how Robin was just another masked psychopath who wasn’t that different from The Joker. 

Fuck them. 

If they only knew what Gotham was like - if only they had to deal with a department full of asshole’s on the Joker’s payroll. If only they had to watch criminals walk away because they made bail on the decision of a corrupt judge. If only they had to sit behind a desk and listen to a mother’s sobs as she begged for him to find her missing child - knowing how many people elbow to elbow with him would laugh at her tears rather than start looking. 

If they only spent one night tending to civilians while the smell of burning flesh permeated the air, with the Joker’s screaming laugh stuck in their ears because he thought that bombing a low-income housing complex was just that funny. 

Fuck all of them. 

Dick clenched his fist tight - his knuckles aching as he resisted the urge to drive his arm right through the glass at the front of the precinct. He just - he really needed some air. 

Dick walked out the front doors (rather than smashing the glass), and took a deep breath of the cool night air, trying his best to calm down. It was getting late, and things were relatively slow, even for it being a Tuesday. No influx of late-night chaos yet. He had some time to collect himself before- 

“So - Robin’s in Detroit now, huh?” 

That voice. 

Dick felt the sting of familiarity pluck at his spine, and he whipped his head around at lightning speed, looking in the direction of the voice. Surely enough - you were the one standing there. It hadn’t been some kind of auditory hallucination on his part. 

So much for time to calm himself down. 

He was immediately met with a confliction - lust and annoyance bubbling up inside of him. He didn’t want to see you again, he didn’t want you to be here, especially not without warning. But you looked so damn good - it was a distraction from that fact. 

That was always the thing about exes, wasn’t it? 

(If Dick could even call you his ‘ex’ - the two of you had slept together more times than he could count, both metaphorically and literally, but the two of you had never put an official label on the relationship like he had with Dawn or Barbara. He cared for you like a friend, and like a lover in a way that he was never willing to admit - but did that make you his ex? Especially if he never stopped caring about you?) 

That thing about exes being: they always look so fucking good when you see them after a long time of being apart. The universe dangling something in front of you that you’re not allowed to have and technically, should no longer want. 

But oh - Dick found himself wanting so very badly. (And he tried his hardest to hide that fact as he continued to carefully stare you down.) 

Because you looked so good. 

You were wearing something of your usual style - an outfit of many confusing layers that somehow showed off the natural curves of your body and hid you all at the same time. 

A long skirt with a ruffled hemline and bold, colorful pattern. A pair of boots that you had probably gotten from some vintage store that were likely older than both you and Dick, leathery and well worn in. Your jacket was much the same - a supple brown leather with a soft fur lining that made you look very warm and cozy. 

Topped off with a pair of the largest, gaudiest dangling earrings that Dick had ever seen - the kind that would have gotten snagged on one of his nice shirts and gotten the two of you tangled up during one of your hook-ups. A pair of earrings that he would have scolded you for wearing - but he would have delighted in finding them on his bedroom floor after you left because it meant having a piece of you still with him. And it would mean having an excuse to visit you later because he had something of yours to return. 

Those earrings glistened in the light of the street lamps, just as your eyes did while you stared him down with those inquisitive, knowing eyes. Looking at him with that same expression you always wore - the one that seemed to say you knew everything that he never would. It equally fascinated him and infuriated him. 

He hated the fact that you had seemingly appeared out of nowhere, causing his heart to race - had you snuck up on him on purpose? Did you find it funny? 

“Y/N,” Dick said your name curtly, still feeling a slight twinge of shock that you were standing in front of him at all. “What the fuck are you doing here?” 

You let out a dry chuckle, and stepped closer to him, making his whole body stiff. His first instinct was to step backward - to gain more distance from you. But he didn’t want to seem like he was afraid of you - afraid of that closeness. So he forcefully locked his legs and stayed in place as you drifted closer, and you idly conversed back. 

“Oh, Dickie.” You sighed in return, using his childhood nickname. “A warm welcome as always.” 

Dick rolled his eyes at this. Did he really need to bother with manners and formalities? The two of you had known each other for so long, he guessed that you were both well over stuff like that. 

“Do I need a reason to be here? Can’t I just visit an old friend?” You posed, a humorous tone still running through your voice. 

He shoved his hands into his pockets as he took a more defensive stance. He quickly went from shock then to annoyance. 

The two of you were old friends - you had known each other since you were in diapers together. The two of you had grown up together, raised by a unique circus family. And that meant that Dick knew you well enough to know that if you were here, you had a good reason to be. 

(If you had wanted to chase him when he first left Gotham, you likely would have camped out in the trunk of his car, or you would have shown up at his new apartment the day after he moved in. You wouldn’t have waited this long to contact him.) 

“Do us both a favor and cut the bullshit, please.” Dick replied sternly. “Why are you here?” 

“Grumpy.” You sighed, sounding defeated. 

He waited for a moment, and surely enough - you folded, now willing to directly explain your reason for showing up in Detroit so suddenly. 

“I had a vision.” You explained. “A girl. The Raven. A lot of others consider her to be the eater of worlds, but she is the one who is going to save us all, Dick.” 

He let out a harsh puff of air, reaching up and running fingers roughly over his temple. Yup, there it was - the headache had fully set in now. He really didn’t need this. Not tonight. 

He had known about your visions for a long time. When he was younger, he had been shocked to find out that you had inherited your mother’s ‘gift’. He previously had no clue that her set-up as a sideshow fortune teller with Tarot cards and a large crystal ball wasn’t all psychology tricks and half-guesses she put on for tourists - but in fact, it was actually something informed by larger supernatural forces at play. And it was something you could do as well. 

So he was inclined to believe you when you told him about this vague vision, but he also didn’t want to be involved. He had a lot on his plate right now - he didn’t need this. 

“Look, I’m sure that whatever you saw was important, but-” He began. 

You sighed and shook your head harshly at this ‘but’. 

“Why don’t you just take it to New York instead? This kind of thing is way more Donna’s speed, anyway. I’m sure she can help you find this girl, and-” 

“That won’t help.” You told him. “The girl is already on her way here.” 

You spoke the words with such utter certainty, and it sent shivers up Dick’s spine. The calm, tranquil look on your face - the ominous wiseness you held: it reminded Dick so much of your mother. The other-worldly authority she held that had ultimately gotten her killed. It was strangely creepy. 

“Just so you know, I hate it when you say ominous shit like that.” Dick told you, gesturing to your person with stiff offense in his body. “Just because your mother played the creepy voodoo witch for tourists doesn’t mean you have to.” 

“I’m not playing.” You replied, exasperated. 

You knew that Dick could be frightened of your powers at times. He was someone very logic-based - he built his beliefs around facts. So having you follow your visions and your ‘gut feelings’ when they were never concrete, changing on a dime - he hated the uncertainty and chaos that came with it all. But you had learned to trust yourself and your feelings over time, even if he didn’t. 

“And you know, you’re involved in this whether you want to be or not.” You told him, trying to get the conversation back on track. “I don’t think it’s a coincidence that Robin made his first appearance in months last night.” 

Dick became stiff at this, and quickly glanced around - as though waiting for someone to appear out of nowhere and point an accusing finger at him, screaming out that he was Robin and he had been caught. 

“You can’t help it, Dick Grasyon.” You declared with intense certainty. “You need to save people, you need to feel like you’re making a difference, you-” 

“So what, now you expect me to save the whole fucking world?” Dick snapped back. 

“She does.” You corrected. 

“Who?” He replied - confused and once again annoyed at your mysticism and bold confidence in your visions. 

“The Raven.” You told him. “She needs you. And whether you like it or not, you need her.” 

You shifted your stance then, waiting for him to tell you that you were right - which was how most of your arguments ended. 

But then, as a sick reminder, the lapel of your jacket opened enough for Dick to get a glance at your chest. The neckline of your blouse was wide open, but his eyes weren’t drawn to your cleavage - instead, he became focused on a large scar that you had sitting over your heart. A place where a bullet had ripped through you, leaving you barely alive. 

He still remembered the feeling of your blood warm under his hands while you looked up at him with tears in your eyes, begging him to save you. He remembered sitting at your bedside, believing that you would never wake up again. 

He couldn’t help but to reach up and gently skim his thumb across the roughness of the scarred skin as he glared at it with a stiff jaw. The touch sent shivers through you - it was the first time he had touched you since that last night in Gotham, when you had woken up to an empty bed and absolutely no explanation as to where he had gone. 

Dick felt rage boil inside of him. 

How could you ask him to save the world when he had been responsible for this? 

This - this was why he was no fucking savior. 

“You shouldn’t be here.” He said, choking on the words slightly as he took his hand down, shoving it back into his pocket once again. He had to avoid the temptation of touching you any further. 

If you weren’t safe around him, why would some little girl from your visions be? 

“This isn’t about me.” You scoffed. “Or-” 

‘Or us.’ 

You held back, knowing how dangerous it was to mention the royal Us around flighty Dick Grayson. For a bird without wings, he was absolutely capable of taking off in a quick moment when he wanted to. 

“This is about something so much bigger.” You pressed. “She’ll be here soon.” 

Dick let out another strained sigh at you using such ominous words again. 

“Well, next time you’re gonna come here and be all ominous and creepy, you should at least bring some coffee.” He told you, sarcasm tight on his lips. 

You made a mocking face in return. 

“Well, you could be more polite.” You scoffed. 

Before Dick could recommend that the two of you go and get a coffee in order to truly catch up, someone called out his name, drawing his attention away from you for a moment. 

“Hey, Grayson!” Someone called, sticking their head out the front door. “Prentiss is looking for you!” 

When he turned back, you were gone. He tried not to linger on it too much - how creepy it was. You were silent and quick like a ghost - he thought that your ominous jewelry might jingle like a house cat’s bell. 

But - he would call you later. Hopefully you still had the same number. 

…

Dick walked into the interrogation room, trying to clear his mind of the interaction with you. When he saw a small, scared girl, he thought it best to lighten the mood with a joke. 

“Hi, I’m Detective Grayson.” He said, introducing himself. “I hear you like to play baseball with bricks and cop cars. You wanna tell me what happened?” 

“You’re him.” She said, whimpering and tearful. “You’re the boy from the Circus.” 

At first, Dick thought that everyone was simply being ominous and creepy today. But then he realized:

‘Oh fuck. You were right.’

...

A/N: Please do not ask me when this fic will be updated - this fic does not have a schedule.

While this is technically the first chapter in a 'series', each chapter is meant to be enjoyed on its own. The overarching plot of the series is still that of the original Titans show, and I won't be making any major changes to the canon of the show - I just intend to showcase smaller emotional moments between the reader character and the canon characters. This is something I want to work on casually in the background between working on other things. This fic is not my main focus, and I will not be rushing to update it or complete it.

Comments and reblogs are encouraged, and I am thankful for them - but please keep those comments focused on the actual content of the series (it's plot, the characters, their dynamics, etc.). Please do not spam me asking me to update this or asking me when I will update this - because I am not in a rush to do so. I have a lot of ideas for this series that I am excited about, but I want to work on it slowly and casually because I don't want to lose my enthusiasm for it and I know that rushing will take that enthusiasm away.

If you enjoyed this - great, thanks. But if you expect this to be updated weekly like a factory pumping out stuff on a clearly outlined schedule - then you are in the wrong place. If you are expecting constant updates of this fic and you will be disappointed if it doesn't get updated regularly - you should just block me now and pretend you didn't read it. But if you are a patient person - feel free to read and enjoy my other Titans works while I am working on updates for this (and working on other exciting things), and feel free to send me a message telling me what you thought of this fic or other fics in general.

Also - if you can't get Dick Grayson off your mind - my requests are open.

[byuntrash101]

30 secs in heaven

dom!reader x sub!hyunjae

smut | nsfw | mdni

frat fuckboy!hyunjae,ennemies to fwb(ish), slut shaming hyunjae, shaming hyunjae for being a virgin (there's nothing wrong with being a virgin or a slut tbh they're sociological constructs it's your body do what u want), just shaming hyunjae in general (you are kinda mean oops), premature ejac, cumming untouched, lasting training, multiple orgasms (m), overstim (m), oral (f), face riding, nude sub/clothed dom, begging, degradation, hair pulling, slight dacryphilia, slight pain play, spit play, unprotected sex (it's discussed but they decide against it. don't be like them kids), creampie

requested | part of my 2023 prompts event [closed]

turns out the campus' fuckboy is nothing more than a pathetic virgin that cums way too fast

[❛ this is a one time thing. ❜ + ❛ shut up and kiss me already. ❜]

TUMBLR IS BASED ON REBLOGS. PLEASE REGLOB MY WORK 🖤

“How old are we?” Hyunjae snorted. “12?” he asked, cocking a disdainful eyebrow, looking down at the empty clear vodka bottle at the center of the circle.

“Don’t be a fucking twat for once will you?” Sangyeon retorted, eyes shooting daggers at the younger blonde man.

He wasn’t wrong though. Playing this hybrid of spin the bottle meets 7 minutes in heaven was kind of childish for a bunch of college sophomore and juniors such as yourselves but you didn’t speak your mind. For two reasons.

One. The night reached a state where everyone was trashed out drunk and passed out at various curious places. Even the DJ was blacked out, head resting on one of the house plants so the music was reduced to a random lo fi spotify playlist playing in the background on somebody’s unclaimed laptop.

Two. You didn’t want to side with Hyunjae. Ever. That man kind of repulsed you. You were never into fuckboys especially the ones that had the reputation to back the rumors. You were deeply convinced that every girl on campus has had a go with Hyunjae’s pogo stick and of course if that was what they wanted, great for them but that wasn't your style that's all.

“I don’t need a bottle to take a lucky girl to heaven” Hyunjae declared, a smug smirk playing at his lips, and looking through his long lashes at one of the girls in the circle, even daring to go as far as to wink at her. She immediately started to giggle. 

As far as you were concerned you had to repress a gag and opted for a more discreet but just repulsed facial expression. 

“Yeah right just spin it!” Eric hurried him by motioning to the empty bottle in the circle but that didn’t stop Hyunjae from throwing one last disgustingly fuckboyish eyebrow raise to the snickering girl.

“Aight” he said, reaching for the vodka bottle, starting to spin it.

 Anddd of fucking course it had to land on you. At that moment you and Hyunjae made eye contact. The smugness is gone. You both look at each other in complete confusion, hung in time.

You are not fond of Hyunjae, that's a fact. A known one. The main interested party knew that much from one very reliable source. Experience.

Of course since you breathed and had boobs Hyunjae tried to get into your pants too back when you were a new and introverted freshman in a brand new and intimidating college. But Hyunjae learned pretty fast that introvertedness wasn’t to be confused with shyness. Because you certainly weren't the latter. You rejected him in a way that didn’t leave any room for interpretation or even second chances and he never bothered you again. 

Fuck… Why me?

For a second you argued that the bottle landed between you and Giggles so you really didn’t mind letting her get into the sickeningly small closet with Mr. Universe. But unfortunately Sangyeon and Eric were way too happy to stick Hyunjae with one of the rare girls on campus that never showed interest towards him.

Before you could understand they whisked you both in the tiny closet. And you found yourself squished between a couple of mops, floor detergent and of course the campus’ Angel Face.

You both stayed quiet for a while, both awkwardly standing in the dark. Your arms crossed on your chest while Hyunjae leaned on the door.

“I mean” you were the first one to break the silence. “We can always just wait here for 7 seven minutes.”

“Yeah.” 

Silence again. But it was somehow even more awkward. The air felt heavy, weighing down on your shoulder like lead. 

“I don't want to get herpes or whatever” 

You didn't really know why you said that but it just slipped out of you. Maybe because you hated how dry he was, not making a simple effort to at least talk to you or how he looked like being in your company was the most dreadful thing that could happen to him or maybe it was the booze talking. But nonetheless you said it.

“What?” he whipped his head in your direction.

“Yeah you surely have herpes with all the mouths that you kissed. Too bad they don't make condoms for your mouths” you laughed out loud.

At first Hyunjae looked pissed, sharp eyes peering at you but as his eyebrows relaxed on his forehead a sly smirk pulled his lips.

“You know what?” he started “I think you’re jealous…” he walked to you lifting his arms and placing both his palms at each side of your shoulder, forcing you to back up, trapping you between the wall and his large frame.

The untasteful scent of his overly sweet cologne mixed with the strong smell of cold tobacco floated to your nostrils, by reflex you pushed your chin back in your chest until the back of your head was against the wall too. 

“Maybe you want to be added to my list?” he tilted his head bringing your face closer to yours.

He keeps a list? That's the cringiest thing you ever heard.

“Shut up and kiss me already. Let's get it over with”. You exhaled, bracing yourself.

“Kiss you?” Hyunjae started laughing. “You’re the last thing on earth I want to get my mouth on” he said before standing back straight, letting his hands fall to his side. 

But before he could turn around you grabbed him by the collar and switched position with him, shoving his body onto the detergent bottle and you crashed your lips on him. To your surprise Hyunjae reciprocated the kiss, gradually he relaxed between your arms. You dared to open your mouth, letting your tongue slip past his lips. His flavor took over you, the taste of cigarettes and raspberry vodka filled your head. He started to breathe heavily and then moan into your mouth.

Hyunjae on the other hand didn’t even feel himself get hard. He didn’t have time to understand he liked this change of pace, he liked being pushed around, he liked that you pinned him against the wall and just stole this kiss from him.

You should have known he was enjoying this kiss a little too much but somehow it didn’t ring any bells to you and before you realized it his voice went very high pitched until he broke the kiss abruptly. When you looked at him his eyes were rolled back in his head and his jaw was hanging open.

“Fuckkk” he cursed in a throaty moan.

Silence again. You took your hands off his collar. You looked at him in confusion, looking for some kind of explanation on what just happened into his eyes but the only thing you found was evident and undeniable shame.

“Did you just…” you asked as Hyunjae bit down on his lip in worry when you looked down you spotted the disgraceful wet patch at his crotch.

“Are you for real right now?” you started to chuckle. “Did you really just fucking cum from a simple fucking kiss?” you started laughing louder. “7 minutes in heaven? More like 30 seconds! I can’t fucking believe it. Cumming untouched like a fucking prepubescent virgin.”

In this very delicate situation, saying Hyunjae felt vulnerable was an understatement. And this side eye he made, unable to hold your gaze, betrayed him right away.

“Wait?” you clapped your hand over your mouth. “Nooo wayyyy dude” you laughed even louder, throwing your head back. “Are you a virgin?” 

The silence that followed spoke for itself. Hyunjae felt dizzy, he staggered backwards until his back hit the closed door. 

“Wait, I don't get it… Did you pay those girls to say that you fucked them?” you were still half laughing.

He had nothing to lose anymore.

“N-no… I.” he looked back at you through his lashes, your cold, unwavering glare made him shudder. “I don’t even know how it started” he blurted. “Just one day that girl from my sociology class started to say she fucked me and that I was the best she’d ever been with and I never denied it. And then another girl said the same thing and then another…” Hyunjae’s words get caught in his throat and he swallows back a sob. 

“Why didn’t you say anything, dipshit?” you spat. The biting tone made Hyunjae’s guts stir with an unknown feeling.

“I don’t know, okay?” one single tear rolled down his cheek. 

There was something so satisfying in seeing Hyunjae crumble like this, catching him in a lie and finally letting the truth out. You wrapped your hand around his chin, nails poking at his wet cheeks as you made him look at you.

“Yeah I bet you loved having your harem following you around at parties and worshiping the ground that you walked.” You hissed between your teeth.

“Yes… But at the same time I was petrified to be with a girl… because of that reputation I was too scared to disappoint her that she would tell the truth to everyone…”

“And losing the attention felt unbearable, right?” you dug your nails a little deeper on his cushiony cheeks.

“Yess!!” he exclaimed, wincing at the pain, another repressed little sob pathetically shaking his large body.

“You know what…” you let go of his face, raising both your palms at each side of your face . “I don’t want to stay here for another fucking second.” 

“No please” He whispered, pressing his back on the door to prevent you from leaving. 

Maybe, there was an opportunity in all this. For both of you.

“I-I…” he hesitated. “y/n… I can offer you a deal…” he somewhat regained his composure, straightening his back against the wooden door.

You were intrigued. 

“Maybe you… I mean…” he hesitated.

“Spit it out Lee” you urged him, your patience running thin.

“Maybe you could fuck me?” he blurted out.

“What?” you frowned in confusion.

“We could help each other. You help me… conquer my fear” Hyunjae walked on eggshells, the proposition sounding more and more like a polite suggestion rather than an actual deal  “and in exchange I’ll let you do whatever you want to me. Anything goes” he added.

Now that was something you could get to enjoy. Breaking the cocky fuckboy into a pathetic little mess.

“You would like that wouldn't you? '” without a heads up you grabbed Hyunjae's crotch. Package tightly fitting in your palm. “You think I didn’t notice how your dick didn’t go down this whole time?” Hyunjae whimpered ever so slightly in response. “You like when I’m mean to you don’t you?” The blonde whined again but didn’t speak. “You like when I make fun of you, huh?” you grip around his balls becoming ever so slightly tighter. “When I call you names?”

“Yess” Hyunjae admitted in a broken whisper, eyes tightly shut, shame painting his beautiful features.

“Pathetic” you spit. “You cum from a simple kiss then stay hard when I laugh at you. Your cock is really begging to be used, isn’t it?”

“Yes! Use me” he responds back a little more eagerly than he would have liked. You clench a little harder around his crotch making him gasp for air and jolt his hips into your hand.

“Good boys always say please” you whisper in his ear, the hot air lifting goosebumps on Hyunjae’s skin, drawing a quiet whimper out of the boy.

“Please, please, please” he whispered back, shallow breaths giving away the urge he felt. You smirk at his state of aggravated neediness. 

“This is a one time thing” you finally agreed as you find your fingers fiddling with the button of his jeans. Hyunjae’s face lights up in hope.

“Yes! Please! fuck me and I will never bother you again I’ll-” his voice got caught in his throat when you carefully peeled the denim off him. Hyunjae’s hips move against his will one more time when you drag down his wet and cum soaked boxers as he felt the cold air hit his scolding hot and leaking tip. You bit your lip at the sight. His cock hadn’t stop leaking from the kiss. Precum and cum mixing at making his cock glisten under the dim light of the closet. 

“Take everything off and get on your knees” you said, taking a step back to allow him some space to fulfill your request which he did hurriedly.

In a flash he was sitting on his heels in front of you looking up at you through his lashes, both hands laid flat on his thighs while he waited for you. You didn't even bother taking your clothes off, only sliding off your underwear from under your skirt. When you lifted the fabric and unveiled to Hyunjae the very object of his desire he stopped breathing. He left like he had never in his life laid eyes on anything this beautiful, this perfect. 

He licked his lips hungrily, wanting nothing more but to wrap his mouth around the glistening folds.

“Make me cum with your mouth like a good little fuck toy” you said shoving your hips onto his face.

Instantly Hyunjae started to move at a rapid pace burying his face in the wet crevices, wanting to drown in you. You grabbed the eager boy by his thick blonde locks.

“Slower you dumb cunt” you pulled archly on his face, making his neck bend awkwardly to look up at you. “You a fucking bitch in heat or something?” Hyunjae winced at the dull pain on his scalp. 

Hyunjae took a deep breath to calm himself down and stuck his tongue out, carefully swiping it from your entrance to your clit. You let a satisfied sight slip off your lips. And Hyunjae’s hands fly to your thighs to ground his body between your thighs and his mind to the present. Trying so bad to keep it slow as your taste intoxicates him, turning him into an animal.

“Yeah like that” you say as you relax your hand around his hair, even gently stroking it. You start to rock your hips on his tongue. Grinding your clit on his mouth just a little harder.

Hyunjae reads between the lines and goes ever so slightly faster. Twirling his hot tongue around your erect nub then going back down to dip the tip at your opening earning a pleased moan from you. You throw your head back and just lose yourself in the pleasure he provides you. Letting your voice go more high pitched as you near your high

That sound alone is enough for Hyunjae to lose control again. He was holding off so well up until then. So well when you squeezed his crotch, so well when he stripped for you, so well when he first tasted your nectar on his lips but the sound you made while your scent filled his head was too much for him. Again the white clumpy liquid spurted out of his beet red cock to stained his thighs and stomach while he moaned into your pussy. His large body shaking under you as he orgasmed once more.

When you noticed you turned around only to witness what you feared had happened. You saw Hyunjae’s mess all over his thighs and stomach. The slimy liquid finding refuge in the dents of his hips around his abs. You grabbed a fist full of his hair again.

“You fucking pathetic little bitch” you pulled his face away from your folds. “You fucking came again!” 

“S-sorry” he barely managed to say looking up at you with his cheeks and chin made shiny with your essence, mind still hazy from his high. 

“You deserve punishment don’t you think?” you growled as you pulled harshly on his hair bending his neck backwards, the sharp pain making his eyes prickle.

“Yes, I do. ‘m sorry y/n” he started to mumble. His guts stirred in anticipation when he saw your glacial eyes stare back at him with resentment. 

“Open your mouth” you demanded. “Stick your tongue out”

Hyunjae felt his cock twitch when he saw you lean in and purse your lips only to spit right on his tongue.

“Don’t swallow yet.” you instructed, hand still gripping tight around his hair. “Say thank you” 

“Pthang you” Hyunjae replied as best as he could as the slimy foreign liquid rolled on his tongue, making his insides flutter with thrill and joy.

“Swallow” you said.

And he did. Happily taking your spit down his throat almost as a trophy an indelible token of what you both did in this closet.

You let go of his hair and step away and Hyunjae collapses. He sits with his legs forward and his sweaty back against the cool wooden door.

You positioned both your feet at each side of his hips and started to crouch down. Hyunjae jolts when he feels your hand wrap around his bare cock guiding it to your entrance. Cock twitching at the idea of serving you properly. 

“Do you have a condom?” he asked between hisses as you lightly pump your fist around him.

“No. You?” you ask back and he shakes his head. You circle his tip on your hot wet folds which makes him arch his back against the door and press his lips into a thin line.

“Should we go get one?” he says, frowning in worry.

You let go of his cock and motion your chin to the door. “Go ahead. Go out and ask your friends for a condom.” You taunted him.

Hyunjae was conscious of the state he was in and the last thing he wanted was for his friends to see him like this, him that was so preoccupied with appearances. So he shook his head again.

“Don’t worry, pretty boy” you said as you grabbed his base again, angling him right at your entrance. “Today is a safe day for me” you said and you sunk yourself on his cock. The hot tip deliciously parting you, sliding with ease inside your drenched heat.

It took Hyunjae everything he had to not burst again. Finally popping his cherry. Finally feeling the delicious wetness and warmth of your pussy around him. Completely unrestrained, raw. He thought his whole body was going to burst into flames, his heart hammering against his ribs.

You saw him struggle, eyes shut tight, eyebrows digging a deep crease on his forehead, jaw clenched and nails clawing at the wooden floor. You grabbed his face between your fingers, sharp nails poking at his cheeks. The pain helped Hyunjae concentrate on something else that wasn’t the agonizing pleasure he felt on his throbbing cock.

“Look at me! Don’t you fucking cum, you hear?” you forced him to look at you. Slapping his cheek when you caught him losing focus, his eyes turning in his head. It worked and Hyunjae calmed down.

“Ok” he stated, out of breath. “I’m good”

You started to very slowly lift your hips up.

“I can’t fucking believe you came twice and you are still this fucking hard” you moaned as his tip was barely hanging inside of you to smash yourself back in. "You really are like a fuck toy ready to get used again and again and again" you said making your hips snap down with every word.

Hyunjae whimpered as a reply, biting down his lower lip in shame.

You climb the ladder of pleasure very rapidly given the orgasm Hyunjae robbed you of earlier you too were pretty worked up and with very little time you found yourself flirting with your edge again. 

Hyunjae, on the other hand, was being tortured by the strong grip of your walls around him. As you were nearing your high you clenched down harder on him. He knew he wouldn’t be able to hold on for long.

“Y/n… aaah” he was out of breath. Large beads of sweat dripping down his temples and hanging under his chin. “I can’t hold back anymore. Gonna aaah c-cum” he was at the end of his rope. His fucked out half lidded eyes looking at you with the most miserable of expressions.

You knew you were close, you figured you let the man let go before he loses the sanity he has left.

“Cum” you said.

The result was almost immediate. Hyunjae moaned out loud, finally letting go of his clenched jaw to let it lose as a string of groans and high pitched moans left his lips, to reverberate on all the walls of the tight space, probably to be heard by everyone outside that was not knocked out drunk. You felt Hyunjae delivering an abundant quantity of cum right in your pussy. Each of your thrust shoving the cum even deeper inside your dripping heat.

But you hadn’t finish yet and you don't intend to let yourself be edged to this level twice on the same night. You weren't going to stop before you grasp your orgasm.

Hyunjae started to whine when you kept on bouncing on his sensitive and drained out cock. Still constricting the poor member around your unforgiving wall. Hips still going strong with the brutal pace, determined to rip your orgasm out of Hyunjae.

“Please. Slow down I–Aaaa” tears started to roll down his face mixing with the sweat on his chiseled jaw.

“Shut up, I'm almost there” you said, clapping your hand on Hyunjae's mouth. His face contorting in overstimulation at the forced pleasure he winced under your touch, the face of true suffering. Hyunjae’s anguish was the last straw for you.

You finally snatch your high, hips becoming sloppy as you let yourself moan out, throwing your head back and pushing your hips back and forth, making Hyunjae’s cum gush out of you, mixing his previous loads still pooling on his stomach. 

You gradually slow down, riding out your high slowly until you come to a complete stop. You keep Hyunjae’s dick right inside you. After a couple of minutes of both of you trying to clear your minds and catch your breath you speak.

“You aren’t really ready be able to live up to your reputation yet but come see me again I’ll teach you to last for hours.”

a/n: ooooff. idk what happened here? i was really in my domme head space and my fingers slipped. thank you anon who requested this is one of my faves <3 guysss did you like it? if yes please consider leaving a comment or an ask. 1 comment = 1 forehead kiss from cat <3. ily

[buggyboba]

kiss my eyes and lay me to sleep.

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𝔸𝕦𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕣 ℕ𝕠𝕥𝕖

↳ ▣ | hiii besties, so in my mind this is a whole three-part thing, oops. a prologue, this, then an epilogue. I mean that is if people want it, or just enjoy it as its own thing! This is a request that took on a life of its own in my head, just like one of the other requests did, so there is that. we are also trying a few new post set up styles, so do we like this? or is it more like Buggy shut up and write vibes?

ℙ𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘

↳ ▣ | Missy x Reader

𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪

↳ ▣ | Anon asked | I would like to please request a Missy x reader (I'm not sure if you have seen the Agent Carter show but if you haven't I'll let you know why I asked. One of the gadgets that Peggy has is a lipstick, which when she kisses someone that person falls asleep.) Where the reader has been separated from the Doctor and comes across missy but doesn't know who she is and so when the time comes for missy to escape she wants to take the reader with her so she uses that same idea with the lipstick to make the reader sleep so they can capture the reader and leave their real identity as a surprise.

So this is in which Missy kidnaps reader using a sleeping toxin.

𝕋𝕣𝕚𝕘𝕘𝕖𝕣 𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘

↳ ▣ | no real tws, Missy being Missy.

𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕕 ℂ𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥

↳ ▣ | 3500

𝔸𝕠𝟛 𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕜

↳ ▣ | x

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This place gave you the proper creeps; you almost clung to Clara as you walked past a vat with a skeleton in it. The three W's—that’s where the Tardis brought them to find Danny. Oh Danny, Clara had gone through lengths, You understood her grief, and you were grateful for The Doctor's grace because the events that happened just a few moments ago were startling, but you couldn't say you blamed her. She loved Danny. Well, it felt like she loved him anyway; she certainly cared for him deeply. She didn't deserve his untimely death; you wanted your friend to be happy; she deserved to be happy. This felt very private—it should have been private—between her and The Doctor; you just happened to be there. Well, that made you sound like you were a stray that showed up; you had been a companion for a while now, off and on, but you saw three of his faces now, the lanky brown-haired one, that said 'Allonsy'; he was the one you met in the beginning. The very next adventure you went on had been not great, but the more you tried to think about it, the less you could understand of it, like there was a large part torn from your memory, but he wouldn’t tell you what it was, and it was probably for the best. Then there was the bow-tie-wearing one; he was tired but pretended to be fine; he had anger; sometimes it scared you, but he was still The Doctor, your Doctor. During this time, you started to be an off-and-on companion. This new face was grouchy and started to reflect the years he carried with him, one that had the same burdens: lonely, scared to lose those who he cared about.

You were the last to step out of the tardis; the stonework was impressive, but the air was cold. You wrapped your jacket tighter around you as you followed after Clara and The Doctor. Things felt tense and odd, but you chose to use the 'seen not heard’ method right now. Clara was hurting, and people did things they normally wouldn’t when they were grieving, but her whole ‘throwing the keys into a volcano’ thing. Then again, the doctor did tell her he was exactly what she deserved; you wondered what that meant but chose not to question it right now; it wasn’t the right time. 

As you walked, your eyes caught on each and every skeleton you passed. You were beginning to worry you would find his skeleton in a vat; what would that do to Clara? Clara could handle it, you were sure, but that didn't mean she should handle it. Grief was an odd thing. Your mind went back to the skeletons. How many were there? This was a horror show waiting to happen. Your shoes scuffed against the floor as you tried to be as close to Clara and the Doctor as you possibly could be, nearly running into the Doctor’s back when he stopped. A female voice spoke, and you assumed it was a recording. A bright logo with 3W was proudly shown.

“3W. Death is not an end. But we can help with that. Ever since 3W encountered the truth about the death experience, we have been working hard to find a better life for the deceased. At 3W, afterlife means aftercare.” The voice spoke in an oddly comforting tone. 

Clara shifted “Okay. Bit strange?” She spoke, and you shrugged. 

“Automated message maybe?” You voiced, your eyes on the skeleton behind you; you swore you saw it move, but that couldn't be right; it was just probably the water in the tank. You stared at it a few more moments than needed to make sure it was just your imagination.

“No, why have the scrolling and a voice? Is it difficult?” He asked like he knew something they didn’t. Both Clara and you looked at him, but Clara spoke first.

“Is what difficult?” She asked, and you nodded, seeing what he was going to say. 

“Reading all those words back to front. Come on. We've come a long way.” He said to the logo projection. A woman walked out through the logo, which disappeared. She was taller than you, wearing a deep purple Victorian-style dress, very much like a governess would wear, and a hat with decorative red berries placed carefully on her head. Her eyes trailed over you in a sort of calculating look, like you were a surprise addition, but it smoothed over, and she looked over to the doctor, assessing him.

“Well, there is, er, no immediate hurry. We're just, er. We're just–” The Doctor struggled to find the words; his mind was racing, trying to place this woman. Her eyes returned to looking at him. Oh, how fun this was and would be for her. 

“Hello. I hope you're well. How may I assist you with your death?” The woman said she was looking between the three of you. You almost choked at the words and gave a nervous sort of giggle snort. A nervous tick—you couldn't recall how many times you ended up nervously laughing at the worst times. You couldn’t help it. When you felt threatened, you laughed that nervous laugh. You shifted and covered your mouth, looking down, trying to calm your nerves. This didn’t feel good. The woman's eyes flinted back to you; something that resembled a smirk tugged at her lips, as if she were remembering something and taking pleasure in your nervous tick.

“Browsing.” Clara quickly said, and you nodded in agreement. 

“Yeah, yeah, browsing.” The Doctor said, watching the woman with unease. The look made you uneasy too; if The Doctor was nervous, you knew you needed to be too. You shifted and watched the woman carefully; something felt off. Then again, the bones lurking in the tanks probably weren’t helping. 

“Please, take all the time you need. At 3W, you always have the rest of your life.” She chimed, looking between the three of you.

“Oh, good. That's good to know, isn't it?” He cast a look to You and Clara, who also exchanged looks. "This whole thing felt bad, but you just couldn’t place it; you weren’t scared of death or the afterlife, but something about this made every red flag in your mind go off.

“Yeah. Great.” Clara murmured, and you stayed silent. This energy felt familiar, like you had felt it before, but the more you tried to grasp at straws to figure it out, the further away it felt, something was definitely wrong. 

“Exactly what is 3W?” The Doctor asked, asking the necessary question. 

“Apologies. Clearly, you have not received the official 3W greetings package.” The woman said in a tsk.

“Well, you know, it's just an unexpected." The woman cut him off, lunging at him, her hands wrapped into the lapels of his jacket. She walked it back against the wall with her body, staying pressed against him. Her lips pressed against his, her tongue pressed into his mouth. The Doctor’s features flashed in shock and maybe perhaps a bit of fear. She pulled back, kissing the tip of his nose three times. She stepped back, giving him space.

“Welcome to the 3W Institute.” She grinned.

“Clara, is it over now?” The Doctor asked, his tone breathless as his hands stayed sprawled against the wall behind him, trying to mentally work through the event that just happened. You watched and lifted your hand to your mouth, partly in shock, partly trying not to laugh about his expression, though it was very clear he was uncomfortable, and that shouldn’t be funny. But there was something about this usually stoic man being thrown off, though you were sure you would feel the same if someone randomly kissed you.

“I think it's over, yeah.” Clara nodded, watching the woman intently. The woman looked at her, her blue eyes scanning over her, as if thinking of something.

“You also have not received the official welcome package.” She took a step towards her, and Clara quickly put her hands up and stepped back, shaking her head. “Oh, I'm good, thanks. No worries."

Then the woman turned to you and stalked closer; that was the right word for it because it felt like a panther stalking its prey. “You haven't received it either.” She gave a slight pout, and you quickly shook your head and backed up a bit, but she followed, her hands on your arms, her eyes locked on you; she got you against the wall, pressing against you as she looked at your lips leaning in before the doctor cleared his throat. The woman's face flashed with annoyance for a brief, blink and you miss it, moment. She slowly turned her face to face him, not moving from you. 

“Who are you?” He asked firmly. She smiled a little ‘she knew something he didn't’ smile. 

“I am Missy.” She said simply, finally stepping away from you. You exhaled your breath, one you hadn’t even realized you were holding. 

“Missy?” Clara asked. Your eyes were still locked on the woman, and your heart was thumping rapidly against your chest. 

“Mobile Intelligent Systems Interface. I am a multi-function, interactive welcome-droid. Helping you to help me to help you.” She playfully looked between the three of you. A welcome droid? No, she certainly felt real, and then again, you had met some very realistic robots in your time with The Doctor. 

“You're very– er– realistic.” The Doctor said. Did he catch on to that too? 

“Tongues?” Clara asked, masking a bit of a smirk.

“Shut up.” The Doctor muttered and shook his head, still uncomfortable about Missy’s actions. 

“I am fully programmed with social interaction norms appropriate to a range of visitors. Please indicate if you'd like me to adjust my intimacy setting.” Missy said, looking at him as he finally stepped away from the wall, before her eyes trailed back to you, looking you over in a way that felt not very robotic.

Missy scoffed and slighted her accent, putting her hands on her hips. “I am in charge.” 

“Oh, yes, please. Please do that. Do that now right now.” He said quickly, You also took a sort of sidestep back closer to Clara and The Doctor. “I need to speak to whoever's in charge here.” He said, clearly back on his game, trying to get to the bottom of this. 

“Well, who's in charge of you?” He asked quickly.

“I'm in charge of me!” She said, looking at him, saying it like it was apparent and he was being silly. 

“Well, who repairs you? Who, who maintains you?” He said he was getting tired of this game. 

“I am programmed for self-repair. I am maintained by my heart.” She said her hand was slipping down to grab his, lifting it to her chest and pressing his palm against it. “Is everything in order?” She locked eyes with him. You shifted; this felt too oddly intimate. Like this was someone who knew the doctor—the way the woman acted, the look the Doctor gave as his hand was on her chest. 

“Who maintains your heart?” He breathed out. His eyes locked with hers.  

“My heart is maintained by the Doctor.” She said it almost sweetly. This was getting too odd, and too quickly, the body language of both Missy and The Doctor worried you.

“Doctor who?” He asked, his voice tinged in something akin to nerves, which made you feel quite nervous again. 

There was a moment of silence before the woman yelled “Doctor Chang!” before she walked away from The Doctor, disappearing around the corner. 

“Who's there?” A man appeared quickly from a room, moving to walk over to them. “Hello?” he asked. 

“Hello.” Clara greeted, and you gave a weak sort of wave. You tried to push the feeling of danger down as you looked at the unassuming man. He was a stark difference from the welcome droid.

“Hello.” The Doctor muttered again; he seemed to be in a deep thought, his hand still in the air where Missy had been.

“You can probably take your hand down now, Doctor,” Clara said, and the Doctor slowly lowered his hand.

“So. Hey. Condolences.” The presumed Doctor Chang said, looking at the three of you. You blinked, but it was a nice sentiment, you thought anyway.

“Condolences?” Clara asked, looking at the man in confusion.

“It's a mausoleum. It's our hello. Is there a particular dead person you want to talk to?” He asked, trying to move the conversation along.

“Yes. Yes, there is.” Clara said quickly. Doctor Chang motioned, and then you all started to follow him, though you hung back. This felt like it should be a private moment for Clara; Danny is, er well, Danny was important to her. You knew if you were speaking to a dead loved one, you would want privacy. So as The Doctor and Clara vanished into the room, you decided to take a quick look around; if it was really a mausoleum, there wasn’t any reason for concern, right? You walked along the quiet hall; the soft sound of the bubbling water from the tanks provided very little ambiance to calm your nerves. Things still felt off, but you couldn’t put your finger on it. 

The skeletons felt like they were staring at you, but that couldn’t be right; it was just your nerves; at least that’s what you told yourself as you walked looking at the nameplates of the skeletons. It was wild to you that people would do this—to become glorified aquarium decorations. You imagined all the people who paid to spend the rest of their eternity in these vats; of course, this was no different from people being cremated or buried; it was just another method of burial, right? There were all sorts of new wave burial methods; you didn’t know about hanging out in a chair in water for the rest of time, though. You wondered how they kept the stability of the bones; if they cleaned the water, what was in the water to preserve the bones? 

You were so deep in thought you didn’t even hear the click of her heels, but you felt the air shift; it was colder, and suddenly there was a presence beside you. You turned and jumped nearly out of your skin. It was Missy. Her eyes scanned over you like a cat that had caught a mouse, and that didn’t feel great. 

“Have you turned your settings down?” You asked, eyeing her, trying to calm your rapidly beating heart. There was no way you should be this jumpy; you had to get it together. You faced way worse than a building full of spooky water skeletons and an off-putting welcome droid.

“What?” She paused looking at you before it seemed she realized something. “Oh right…yes…sure…” she shook her head a bit, chuckling a little bit to herself like there was a joke you missed.

“Not going to try and French me?” You asked, eyeing her. You shifted a bit, putting your hands in your jacket pockets as you watched her. Taking in her features, you wondered who she was modeled after; being a droid, with her high cheekbones, her pale skin, and those mesmerizing blue eyes, a lot of care went into making her. 

“Oh, maybe… I haven’t decided if I want to give you a second chance after you so rudely denied me.” She waved you off. “Wonderful, aren’t they?" She tapped the glass with her nails, transfixed by the skeleton for a moment before she looked at you, tilting her head. 

“You don’t act like a droid... I mean, then again, I wouldn’t know... but you felt  too...human." You decided; she scoffed and let out an annoyed snort.

“Human? Don’t be a bitch.” She shook her head, offended. “As if I were, you humans are too messy, too emotional, too weak.” She waved you off again. Your eyes narrowed, but you shrugged. Droids shouldn’t have that strong of an opinion, right? Or was that insensitive? Droids were AI, and AI could learn to feel right? You certainly didn’t want to anger the woman by thinking things like that. However, her reaction felt too ‘human’ like too. She must have some impressive AI, but something about that thought felt weird. 

“So Skeletons, in fish tanks, one hell of a way to spend eternity, don’t you think?” You said, looking back at the tanks, as you felt her walk around your back to your other side, sizing you up. You felt a familiar tug at you, like some of her mannerisms were familiar but you couldn’t place them, or you didn’t want to place them.

“Oh, it's worse." She shrugged, letting her fingers trace across your shoulder with a devilish grin, as she watched your pulse quicken the vein in your neck, giving the steadily increasing beats away.

“Don’t you mean it could be worse?” You asked, looking at her. The way she said that, that it wasn’t just an eternity, that it was something worse, your expression twisted to that of uncertainty. 

“Is that not what I said?” She gave you a grin that made your stomach tighten. “But don’t worry, poppet.” She gave a mock reassuring nod, patting your arm lightly. “It’s not your fate, and that should be a comfort.” You didn’t like what she was saying; something was wrong with this welcome droid; that definitely didn’t feel like a droid. 

“What do you mean, Missy?” You asked, turning to face her more. 

“Put two and two together, dear. I know he picks them pretty, but one of you is bound to be smart.” She muttered.

You made a face and shook your head, looking at her, trying to figure out what she meant. It was clear to you she absolutely wasn't what she said she was. Missy studied you and then looked so offended. “He didn't!!” She scoffed. “I worked so hard on you for a year! A year of twisting and manipulating.” She rolled her eyes. “Of course he would go and ruin it; he usually doesn't mess with memories. Oh my dear, did I ruin you that badly? How cute.” She mused and tilted her head. She withdrew her lipstick out with a flourish and lazily applied it to her lips, in a show watching you intently. She popped her lips and hummed, putting the lipstick away.

“What are you talking about?” You took a step back, but she caught your wrist, pulling you back towards her. Gripping your wrist, she pulled hard; your chest collided with hers, and she grinned. “Oh, poppet. I am going to have a blast with you; I get to chip away at you all over again. His fault really for keeping you, but maybe this time he will learn. Doubtful, he really never does, does he?” She sighed and leaned closer to you. “Do you want to know a secret?” She mock whispered like it was a conspiracy. 

You shifted and tried to get a read on her; she wrapped her arm around your waist, keeping you pinned to her. “All these silly little skeletons are really cybermen, and soon all the graveyards are going to open, and an army will walk.” She grinned and nodded. “And the human race will be nothing more than a footnote." She mused a bit. “He will see that we aren’t so different... and he will be delighted that I didn’t kill you...” She mused watching your expressions change. "Oh, don’t try to think about it too much, love; it's not worth it. All you need to know is that you and I will have a great time together, better than last time, I promise.” She nodded. “Oh! Can you keep another secret, just a silly little girl secret between us girls?” She grinned, grabbed your jaw, and tilted your face up. She bore a large, sharp grin and nodded, waiting for your response. “Oh! Don't give me the silent treatment now, Bunny.” She mock tsked and let her hand slide to hold the back of your neck. 

“Yeah, sure. " You muttered quickly, trying to think of an exit plan. You had to get back to the doctor. 

“The doctor isn't going to save you this time." She nodded again and suddenly crashed her lips against yours. There was the taste of an unknown chemical, rose and tea. As she held you in the kiss, something felt wrong. You tried to push away, but her hands were tight around you, you felt your body get heavy, and you were drowsy, trying to fight whatever chemical she introduced to your system. She pulled back, frowning at you. “What a tough little bird you are,” she mused. “Oh well, a kidnapping is a kidnapping.” She grinned and wrapped her arm around your waist, moving to pull you with her but grumbling about how you were dead weight before moving to lift you over her shoulder, heading further into the mausoleum away from the doctor, away from Clara, away from safety. Your last thought before you succumbed to the sleeping toxin was, ‘Who the fuck is this woman?’ 

Taglist |

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@Theonetruepotato87 @neurodiverse-dumpingground @lena-kieran-luthor @marisacoulterswife @germansarechill @vivvision @skarrkiie @missyblr @toastvogel@what-bout-me @shipshroom @aboutcustardcreams @super-just-because @starbucks-06

[stansthemans]

Yall my fem stan brain rot is so bad rn. I just looked at my wips. 78k for fem Stan. 4k for dude Stan. lol oops anyway here’s some more

Sometimes it feels embarrassing to ask, like she really is still a child. But Ford never denies her, even when he’s really busy with some project or studying for some exam. Stan knows how important those things are to him, and even though she thinks he needs to relax about it—he’s miles ahead of everyone else at school, even the teachers—she doesn’t want to drag him away from it unless one of them really needs it.

Today, it’s her.

Nothing has gone right today. She actually tried her own homework, like really tried, not just half assed it or copied Ford’s. Predictably, she beefed it, and her teacher actually took the time to call her out in front of the entire class. She tripped on the way to English class, bruising her knee and sending all her shit flying. She hadn’t been fast enough gathering it all up, and she got a tardy. One of her gloves busted at boxing practice, and she hasn’t yet had the guts to tell Pa because she knows he’s going to blow a gasket at having to buy a new one. Dinner was an icy affair. Shermie had apparently called and he and Pa got into it about something. Then, cleaning up the kitchen, Ma had taken out her frustration on Stan.

Stan is glad it wasn’t Pa. She’s always glad when it isn’t him and not just because hiding the bruises has recently gotten much harder. But it still doesn’t make it nice when Ma locks a sharp, critical gaze onto Stan and picks apart everything that’s wrong with her. Too loud and opinionated. How is she ever supposed to catch a man if she’s got the crazy idea that she’s allowed to think anyone cares to hear what she has to say? Not to mention her waistline. The extra dough in the middle—she had pinched Stan’s side here—that Stan certainly didn’t inherit from her. And still with the boxing? It really was high time to stop that brutish, unladylike nonsense.

As if she doesn’t know exactly why Stan needs to keep it up, needs the easy excuse to hide behind.

As soon as she’s able, Stan retreats to the bathroom. It takes a good couple of minutes for the water to heat up, so while she waits, Stan strips down and stares at her reflection in the mirror. She isn’t vain, she doesn’t think. She doesn’t wear any makeup, doesn’t do much more to her hair than run a brush through the waves to manage any tangles. She doesn’t care about trendy clothes or the latest styles. A pair of jeans or shorts, depending on the season, a simple t-shirt, and some high tops. That suits her fine.

She isn’t stick skinny like her mother or a lot of girls at school. She isn’t fat either, not even really that chubby. She’s just kind of thicker. And she’s got muscles from boxing. Not much by way of hips.

How are these ever supposed to bear a child? Any nice boy at the temple, any potential mother-in-law worth their salt, they’ll be looking for that. Hips like these, bad figure elsewhere too. She doesn’t have the looks enough for any good husband to overlook all the other things wrong with her.

Stan steps under the stream of water, hoping that it’s warm enough to wash her mother’s words off her skin.

It isn’t. It never is.

Ford is deep into whatever assignment when she comes into their room, deep enough that he doesn’t look up and watch from the corner of his eye while she changes into pajamas. He’s been doing that for a really long time, but he’s been a little more obvious about it the past few months, and every time it sends a thrilling jolt down Stan’s spine. But he isn’t looking right now, and that makes her feel even worse, despite the fact that he doesn’t look every time and that he’s clearly fully immersed in his textbook.

Stan folds her arms over her stomach, leaning up against their dresser as she watches him. He isn’t hunched too badly, despite how into his work he is. She’s glad to see that at least. The way his spine will pop when he stretches out sometimes really isn’t right for a sixteen year old boy. He took a shower while she was still cleaning up after dinner, and his hair, much shorter than hers, looks so soft and puffy in its freshly cleaned state. His eyes are sharply focused on the textbook, even as his pen dances over his notebook in his neat, looping writing.

He’s so deep into his work, but Stan’s heart is aching too much to keep standing there or even to go curl up in her bunk alone. She steps over to the bookcase. Over the years it’s changed a lot. More and more space is taken up with Ford’s textbooks and scientific journals and less and less their treasures found while out exploring or their comics. Still, there is a small section of novels. Stan picks up one of the most worn down and shuffles over to the desk.

“Hey, Sixer,” she asks, and Ford hums in acknowledgment. “I know you’re real busy.”

“Yes,” Ford says, but not dismissively. “I’m writing that proposal to send in to the Rutgers field office. I told you about that, didn’t I?”

“Yeah,” Stan says, hugging the book to her chest. “Big deal if they take it, right? Maybe get this dump cleaned up some.”

“That’s the hope,” Ford says. “And it will make an excellent addition to my academic portfolio.”

“Yeah,” Stan says again. “Yeah, it’ll be real good.”

The pen stops moving on the paper, and Stan presses her lips together as Ford looks up. His eyes flash as he takes her in, and he opens his mouth. Stan can’t have him ask her what’s wrong because she just can’t, so quickly she blurts, “I know you’re busy but—“ And she shoves their battered old copy of The Hobbit in his direction.

Ford leans back in his seat, almost jumping a bit. She isn’t standing close enough that the book would have smacked him in the face, but it is a close thing. He blinks at it and then again up at her. Stan thinks she must cut a very pathetic figure, but she also doesn’t care in that moment.

Ford studies her with a furrowed brow for only a brief moment before he stands up. He takes the book with one hand and lightly touches her cheek with the other. “Sure,” he says. “I’m at a decent stopping point for the night.”

He absolutely isn’t. Stan wouldn’t understand anything about his proposal if she picked it up to read it, but she knows that he’s lying and going along with her, and she’s so grateful for that. Ford neatens up his work while Stan arranges the pillows and blankets on her bunk. He crawls in after her, and they find a comfortable way to lie tangled up together. Ford opens the book and begins to read aloud.

They both loved this book so much as kids. It wasn’t on the ocean, but it was fantastical adventures fill with daring fights and golden treasure. It was odd, out of place, little people who were still heroes in a big, big world. Sometimes, Stan would read too, picking a couple of the characters that she wanted to voice, often sillily to make Ford laugh. But usually, it would just be Ford reading, them lying together just like this, his voice low, breath ghosting over the top of her head.

It’s soothing. It is. The knots in Stan’s stomach are beginning to loosen, but she still feels heavy in an unpleasant way. As the party reaches Rivendell, Stan decides that she needs more than this, and she hopes Ford is willing to give it.

“Ford,” she asks, and he stops. Stan knows that he can tell she’s about to say something important. She really doesn’t use his name very often.

“Yes, Stanley?”

“Can you do me a favor,” she asks.

“Of course,” he says. “What do you need?”

Need. Because this isn’t a want. She needs this, or she thinks she might shake apart, and Ford doesn’t have to know any details to know that much.

Stan shifts against him just a bit, changes the way she’s lying against him just slightly. Then she reaches up for his hand that was scratching lightly at her scalp. She brings it down her body, under her shirt, and lies it over her breast. Despite being a bit bigger in her upper body, Stan really doesn’t have large breasts. Ford’s big hand covers it completely, and the feeling starts to unwind some of the tension that his voice couldn’t cut through.

Under her, Stan can feel his breath pick up a bit. They haven’t done this outside of her periods before. For the past several months, that’s been the excuse. Ford touching her like that is just him helping her through the very real discomfort of what that week puts her through. And if—when—they do other things, well, they’re hormonal teenagers. Hormones can be such crazy things, overwhelming sometimes. Overwhelming enough to forget the very important fact that they are siblings. Twins. And then when the cramps and aches are over, they go back to being normal.

This isn’t normal. This is outside of that very specific set of parameters where they have decided it’s ok for them to act in ways that they never should have even considered. But Ford’s hand is on her now, skin to skin, and it’s warm and it’s safe.

After a moment, Ford squeezes at her, something questioning, and Stan, her hand still over his, squeezes back and says lowly, “No. Just this.”

“You just want me to hold it,” Ford asks, his voice just as low.

Stan nods. “I just—it’s comforting,” she says.

In a whisper, against her hair, Ford says, “I can feel your heart beating. More than usual.”

He doesn’t need to touch her to feel that, just like she doesn’t have to touch him. It’s always there, right alongside hers, has been for their entire lives. Two hearts beating side by side.

Ford sets the book down in his lap. He doesn’t take his hand away from her, doesn’t move it at all, but his other reaches for her cheek, turning her gently to face him. And then he does something that they also have not done outside of her periods. He brings his lips to hers. Stan sighs against him, lightly dragging her fingers over all six of his before curling around his wrist.

Ford pulls back just slightly. “Whatever Ma said, she was wrong,” he says, and Stan could cry, but his hand is resting directly over her heart, and it keeps her grounded. He kisses her again, a sweet, gentle thing, and then he picks up the book and resumes their reading. Stan melts into her brother, and his voice and touch drives away everything bad in the world.

[wreckedhead]

Guys, hear me out. Last night I had this insane dream where Galadriel and Sauron somehow got transported to our world, in the present day, but with all their normal modern human and their Middle-earth memories intact. I think this can be a really fun AU fanfic 😭

So, in this world, Galadriel(her modern name is not Galadriel btw) is a 20y.o something fresh graduate looking for a job, she still has both her memories from Middle-earth and modern world after she 'transported' herself from Valinor out of boredom. The same thing happens to Sauron, he has all his memories intact just like Gal. Things get spicy when Galadriel ends up applying for a job at Sauron’s company where he's the director. He’s reviewing applications for fun and spots one that stands out the most, her name might be different, but the resemblance from the picture is uncanny. Naturally, he sets up a personal interview to see if it’s really her.

Galadriel, confused because she had both her memories of Middle-earth and modern time at the same time, she’s confused, but since her current memories tell her she’s supposed to be job-hunting, she shows up to the interview anyway. It’s some kind of corporate lawyer gig (can’t remember exactly), but when she sees the interviewer, she’s stunned. Sitting across from her is none other than Sauron, the man she despised, longed, and the last person she wanted to see in her new life, except this Sauron looking man is sporting a modern look, short hair, Halbrand but very clean, and all that. Galadriel has to keep her cool and act like she has no idea who he is, all while trying not to blow her cover.

Anyway, Sauron calmly interviews Galadriel, who is stumbling a bit as she talks. In reality, Sauron knows exactly who the woman in front of him is, but he chooses not to reveal his identity (again), because there's a chance this woman might not be the Galadriel he once knew and longed for, so he obviously accepted her to the company with no hesitation.

Now, here’s the twist: While it’s Galadriel’s first time living in the modern world, it’s not for Sauron. He’s been stuck here for ages after THE one ring is destroyed. After countless failed attempts to return to Middle-earth, dying a bunch of times, and realizing world domination doesn’t really work in the 20 something century, he’s settled for just trying to blend in. But now that Galadriel has shown up, his heart is beating out of his chest (damn these weak mortal bodies!). He’s determined not to mess this up and is even entertaining the idea of a intimate relationship with her. This time, he’s not going to let her slip away even if he’s not sure if this version of her is the real deal.

Of course, both of them try to act like they don’t remember Middle-earth and this modern world is where they belong. But it’s harder than it seems, especially since Sauron still has some power over Galadriel at their workplace. Eventually, Galadriel gets so frustrated and accidentally blurts out something in Sindarin (oops). That’s when Sauron realizes she’s the one and only Galadriel of Lorien, and he’s beyond ecstatic. Finally, he’s not alone in this strange world anymore yayy.

Naturally, Sauron being Sauron, he starts getting possessive, and maybe a little obsessed. He even follows her home after work (yes, YOU style). He watches her closely at the office, keeps an eye on her at home, and tries to keep her around by piling on extra work. He’s trying to show his “affection,” but let’s be honest, it’s still kinda creepy. He tones down his sadistic and creepy side a bit though. Meanwhile, Galadriel is all mixed up. Deep down, she still has feelings for Halbrand, and she’s always fantasizing about him turning to the good side. But after seeing how much this Sauron’s attitude has changed, she starts to soften.

Their relationship gets intimate, to the point where Galadriel invites Sauron over for dinner at her place. But honestly before this, she was already suspicious of him and kept testing whether he was really Sauron or not right here in her flat. Sauron, however, plays it cool and convinces her that he’s just an ordinary harmless corporate slave in this world.

After dinner, they’re chilling on the couch, watching TV. Galadriel, exhausted from cooking, falls asleep on Sauron's thigh. While she’s asleep, Sauron starts stroking her hair and whispers, “For thousands of years, i searched for you and waited for you. I can’t believe you’re actually here, with your face, your body, your beauty that never changed. Don’t ever leave me again Galadriel.” He says it all in Black Speech, for no reason.

What Sauron doesn’t know is that Galadriel is only half-asleep. She hears everything and is freaked out but also thought that maybe what Sauron said was just part of a dream, since she was only half-conscious. She tries to stay calm and pretends to still be sleeping. The next morning, Sauron is gone as expected and Gal heads to work as usual but starts watching Sauron closely, spying on him to see if anything is off. For weeks, nothing happens. No weird behavior, no red flags.

Finally, she decides to invite him over again to see if he’s really Sauron. She uses the excuse of wanting to cook dinner again, because she had found a new recipe (Sauron and Galadriel often talked about food, since they both turned out to be big fans of cooking and trying new cuisines). but she’s secretly planning to confirm once and for all if this man is the Dark Lord himself.

After that, things in my dream got blurry, as they often do, but the gist of it is that during their second dinner, Galadriel invited Sauron to cook together. She was keeping a close eye on him the whole time, especially when he was chopping the ingredients. And of course, Sauron, with his usual expertise, sliced everything perfectly. It wasn’t enough to confirm anything for Galadriel, but there was a moment when he sharpened the knife using a technique she knew wasn’t from this era. That’s when she finally decided to say something.

“You know, there was someone i once trusted deeply, his knifing skill is legendary, and i admired him a lot, but he betrayed me… and basically everyone i cared about,” Galadriel said gloomly.

Sauron replied, “Oh? What did he do? Can you tell me more about him?”

“He did too many things for me to explain in just one dinner, but for short, he's a megalomaniac asshole. Oh, and also he had many names,” Galadriel added.

Sauron gave a small smile when she mentioned that the person from her past had many names, but also pissed she called him a megalomaniac asshole

“Tell me one of them. I’d like to know why he had so many names,” Sauron asked.

“I… don’t want to remember him. I’m happy with my life now, haha,” Galadriel replied, brushing it off with a laugh.

In that moment, Sauron could only stare at Galadriel as she focused on the meal she was preparing. Inside, he was wrestling with his emotions, he desperately wanted to tell her that he was the one she despised, the very being she had trusted and then lost. He longed for her to love him for who he truly was, not the shadow of his past nor the suave of a man he is right now. This was the first time Sauron felt genuine fear creeping in.

Fear of rejection. Fear of his identity being exposed. And fear that the deep longing he felt for her might never be returned. As he watched her stirring the vegetables, the walls he had built around his heart began to crumble, revealing a vulnerability he hadn’t faced in centuries. Would she ever see him as more than the monster he once was?

After that, things started to get jumbled in my dream, and I could only recall bits and pieces of what happened next. I guess you can let your wild imagination take over for the rest.

Honestly, in this dream, Sauron was pretty creepy. At one point, he even sneaked into Galadriel’s room while she was away and began sniffing her bed and clothes. It’s almost like Sauron was tapping into that possessive side of him, getting a little too carried away with his feelings for her. Maybe this is just who he is deep down, haha!

This has all the makings of a chaotic, toxic, fun AU with a mix of modern world absurdity, supernatural tension, and romance ofc. What do you think?

[thoughtsonhurtandcomfort]

Can I request recovery 🛌 or lonely/touch starved 🥺 for Cloe? I know you said they were one of your OCs that you didn’t really feel creative about so if you don’t have any inspiration, don’t worry!

Prompts from Nonhuman Whump Emoji Prompts

Aww thank you!! Mostly I don't have a solid plotline in mind for Cloe, he's more just a concept I thought up but didn't do much with. But I'd like to write more of him so I'm going to try!

About Cloe: he's a winged character. In his world there are a few different species of winged folk whose evolution diverged to suit different environments. Cloe's species are short, slender, lightweight, they're quick and nimble but fragile. They have small feathery wings that are only good for low gliding over short distances. They live in grassy and sparsely forested areas, are generally mild-mannered, peaceful, and are vegetarian.

There's another species that evolved to live up in the mountains. These ones are tall and strong with huge wings, they can soar really high and far. They're predatory and aggressive as a species and don't think much of Cloe's species, sometimes going so far as to capture them to keep as pets or slaves or just to torment. Many of their captives die from poor treatment.

Oops this got long

Content Warnings: winged whumpee, captivity, mentions of pet whump, enslavement, torture, and death, broken bones, bruises, blood, stabbed, painful restraints, passing out, starvation, exhaustion, rescue, female caretaker, reluctant caretaker, 'it' as a pronoun

----

"I'm getting a new one tomorrow. This one is no fun anymore."

"What are you going to do with it?"

Omeron snorts. "Dunno. Don't care. You want it?"

Galea makes a face at the suggestion. "Me?"

"Why not? They're easy to care for. Don't eat a lot, don't take up a lot of space."

"I just don't see the point."

It's true, she never has. The smaller winged folk are too weak for hard labor, too timid to make good companions, and can't even fly properly. Galea has no use for one, and lacks the sadistic streak to want one just to push around.

"How about this. You take it for a day. See if you like it. If you don't, I'll toss it."

He means, quite literally, to throw it from the mountain, the fate of many a discarded pet.

"Fine," she concedes, just to get Omeron to leave her to eat lunch in peace. "I'll pick it up later. Now shut up."

-

That afternoon Omeron is out hunting. True to her word, Galea goes on her own to his home for her secondhand small-wing. He told her it would be out back, and sure enough there it is.

Unsurprisingly, the creature is in awful condition. It is pinned to the back wall of the hut by daggers through its little wings, which are mangled and bloodstained. It is malnourished, sunburned, coated in dark bruises, a broken arm hanging limp at its side.

Broken is the wrong word. Crushed is more like it.

"What am I supposed to do with you?" she grumbles.

The creature startles awake at the sound of her voice. It whines softly and cradles its arm but doesn't attempt to move beyond that. By now it must be used to this.

Big, sorrowful gray eyes stare back at Galea, only at eye level with the much taller winged woman because it is pinned up on the wall. Galea stares back, taking in its weak breaths and red-rimmed eyes. Only then does she realize she has never seen one of these up close.

Curious, she reaches a hand out. The small-wing flinches and squeezes its eyes shut, expecting a blow or tight grip. But Galea just wants to feel its silky hair. She pets it a few times and the creature gradually relaxes. It even nuzzles at her hand.

Omeron definitely doesn't pet it, she thinks. That isn't his style. The hand-shaped bruises around the creature's wrists and neck...that's more what she expects. The qualities that make him a formidable hunter and warrior don't exactly make him a doting pet owner.

"Can you speak?" she asks.

It flinches again at her firm tone and averts its gaze.

"Yes," it whispers.

"Do you have a name?"

It hesitates.

"...Cloe," it replies softly.

"Looks like you're mine now, Cloe," Galea says. She is still reluctant about all of this but she never says anything she does not mean, and she said she would take in this battered little thing for a day, so she will.

Galea removes the knives from its wings, neither cruel nor gentle, just quick and efficient. Cloe gives a feeble cry and faints into her waiting arms.

It - he - is even lighter than she imagined; she cradles his broken body effortlessly. She can feel every little quiver and hitched breath he makes, troubled even in unconsciousness. His skin is hot - whether from sunburn or swelling, bruises or fever, or all of the above, she can't tell.

Poor thing...

-

Galea takes care of her things. Her home is well kept, her wings well groomed, her weapons sharpened.

Now Cloe is hers too, if only for a short time.

She lies him on a large cushion in the corner. Against the dark fabric he seems even paler, scrawnier, more pitiful. Feathers fall from his damaged wings, the surest sign of poor health for their kind.

Uncharacteristically, Galea didn't plan this far ahead. She sort of hoped Omeron might change his mind and decide to keep his pet a little longer. But now the small-wing is here and she has to decide what to do with him.

He is in no shape to work and she has the feeling that was never why Omeron kept him in the first place. Still out cold, he isn't much good as a companion, either. And she has no desire to harm him.

Instead Galea finds herself examining the wounded creature more thoroughly.

Beyond the most obvious injuries there are many other, subtler signs of his mistreatment. His hands and feet, once soft from a life spent on grass and dirt, are scraped, calloused and blistered from the stone and wood surfaces of mountain living. Bones in his right ankle, left hip, and sternum feel at least fractured if not worse. His breaths are thin and labored, suggesting internal damage. On his back there is a barely healed scar that she recognizes as caused by a spear. That must be how Omeron caught him.

And then there are his wings.

Cloe's brittle wings are broken in more places than she can count. They are punctured clear through in several places, leaving the white feathers stained red. When she runs her fingers through them they shed easily.

Galea pulls her hand away with a shudder and shakes off the feathers. She tucks her own large, powerful wings closer to her back, fearfully imagining them as ruined as Cloe's. It would be a fate worse than death.

-

Galea continues the rest of her evening like normal - dinner in the hall, her evening patrol, sparring as the sun sets, a bath in the spring and grooming her wings. By the time she returns home she has nearly forgotten about her new 'pet'.

Cloe's eyes are closed, but when Galea shuts and locks the front door he jolts awake. Immediately he groans and cradles his shattered arm again.

He watches Galea approach with bleary eyes, labored breaths, little quivers. He knows as well as she does that he is completely at her mercy.

The pitiful sight should repulse her, a warrior who wouldn't dream of looking so helpless, who would die fighting rather than submit to the whim of a captor.

But instead it presses on something inside her like a thumb on a bruise. It comes with the overwhelming urge to soothe the frightened little thing rather than punish or mock him. Unsettled by the feeling, she clenches and unclenches her fists a few times and breathes slowly, grounding herself.

Mere minutes later she is sitting cross-legged beside the cushion with her medical kit, smoothing a numbing salve over his broken arm. Cloe bites down on his lip to keep quiet despite what must be excruciating pain as she maneuvers the limb around. She efficiently splints and bandages it.

Galea silently treats every break, bruise, and cut to the best of her ability. Even at her gentlest, Galea's grasp is firm; she isn't used to handling something so fragile. Cloe winces and whimpers but never complains. Gradually the medicine dulls his sharpest pains and tension eases from his body. Soon he can barely keep his eyes open.

"Don't sleep yet," she instructs him.

Cloe nods, visibly forcing himself to stay awake. Galea pours a cup of juice. Then she cups Cloe's head with one hand and easily sits him up. She holds the cups to his lips and waits until he drinks the whole thing.

"More?" she asks.

"I can have more?" Cloe whispers.

Galea answers by pouring another cup. She indulges herself by indulging him - allowing him to drink to his heart's content. When he's finished his head lolls to one side and he gazes up at her with reverence.

"Thank you."

"Don't," Galea insists.

And she means it. For now there is a sense of ownership. She agreed to have Cloe for a day and leaving him in that state was unacceptable. Tomorrow, who knows.

Cloe is asleep the moment Galea settles him back onto the cushion. She covers him with her cloak and prepares for bed.

As she falls asleep she can't help but picture Cloe thrown from the mountain, disappearing into the fog below as he falls to his certain death. The image follows her into her dreams and makes a home at the back of her mind.

[subcon-crybaby-charlie]

Ok so to understand my headcanon/ own version of Coreys parents and family tree I have to explain some Rocklympus lore first. So essentially I just did my own version for shits and giggles so there's a lot of lore involving how the Rocklympus gods came into power and what they are.

So we start with the Greek gods, Apollo and one of the nine muses had a daughter named Mousikí (Music in Greek according to Google translate. I call her Mou for short) Apollo does something that pisses Zues off so Zues turns him into the blue star (also called The Curse) as punishment and Mou ended up locking him away herself because she didn't like seeing him destroy what he once loved. I didn't know the music box was Trinas interpretation of the star at the time so oops but hear me out on my version: bros trapped in Greek pottery that just breaks one day and releases him onto the world. Was probably in a museum for a hot bit.

Anyway from there Mou, upset at her grandfather, decided to over throw him with help from the muses and the fates, she let him live though, cursing him the same way he cursed her father and turning him into the blight. Almost all of the Greek gods stepped down from there after that, bringing in a new age of creativity. Almost all of the gods, including the muses, basically went down to earth and lived the rest of their lives as mortals in the 1400s, EXCEPT for Dionysus because what are musicians without parties ;3

Mou had to struggle for a while to get any sort of worship, and it was a slow trickle as she was only a goddess of loving and appreciating music, but slowly as new genres popped up new gods formed to join her, i call them the genre gods and they're gods representing genres of music, obviously, and they're all basically her siblings. The most amount of worship and attention they got was in the 80s when the hair metal and rock scene was big, which is where the whole Rocklympus name comes from. It is around this time where Mou, suffering from burn out over being queen of the gods snuck down to earth for a break, this is where she meets Coreys father Keith. (Also yeah she's Corey and Trina's mom lol. Corey and Trina are directly related to Apollo, you're welcome)

Keith, though not the frontman, was a guitarist in his friend's metal band. It actually got very far, but his friend left and let the band go their own separate ways after he started dating Mou. I want this to be as clear as possible, Keith, in terms of personality is exactly like his son but an adult and Corey looks a lot like his mother, BUT Keith has an extra talent, fixing and building things. He likes to tinker, often fixing amps or making instruments. Infact, his guitar (which later gets given to Corey) is an instrument he DIYd. He called it MadJack. He's not stupid it's something he plays up to make people laugh, but people think that's all there is to him, except for Mou.

So unsurprisingly Mou stayed with him for years to be with him, getting married and having children with him. And then The Blight found them and burned the house to the ground. Keith died, going back inside to try to save her not knowing she wasn't in the house. Trina, at 3, witnessed it, having been handed her 6 month old baby brother while he ran back inside the house and perished. When Mou came back he was rightfully upset, driving back the blight long enough to put Keith in the stars Orion style and get away with the kids, wiping Trina's memory of the event because she doesn't want her daughter to have that kind of trauma ok. So Trina is now sleepy and on the edge of just passing out. Mou ends up running to Keith's best friend for help, unable to take care of the kids for fear she'd only put them in danger (she does come back later to watch them from afar, and the genre gods took turns watching them for her sometimes, which includes the genre god of Rock accidentally giving Corey divine inspiration when Corey was a toddler lmao), and because she feels like doesn't know enough about human children to raise them on her own so it would be better if a human raised them.

I may just leave explaining their adoptive father for my friend @funtimemichael , cause he's their oc lol have fun bro. I salute you.

Some art of Keith and Mou before they had kids, working on redesigning Keith a bit but just know he is based on concept art Corey/ Tre ;3

[lilywily143]

ALL DANDY WORLD TOONS IM MY ART STYLE

I finally finished!!!! This took a while... And it's taking even longer so I can talk about the details I loved making. [I gave everyone tails, it's fun as fuck]

Commons

Toon Boxten: He's got cute striped pants with little buttons for the fun, and he has a crank tail [the twist handle of a jack in the box!]

Twisted Boxten: His tail kinda looks like a murder drones tail oops

Toon Poppy: Waterrrrr. She's got the bubbles that come from waterfalls hitting water on her new tail and hair.

Twisted Poppy: Not that much to say sadly

Toon Cosmo: BAKER HAT, he's got the friendship bracelet, churro tail with a sugar cookie end, his sweater ends are also just that fancy zigzag shape

Twisted Cosmo: Please believe me that I drew this before his cousin was revealed, I accidentally made them match AHAH [I forgot his tail oops]

Toon Tishu: She's a simple, pretty maid. But she does have a broom tail.

Twisted Tishu: VAMPIRE! SHE'S A VAMPIRE! SHE'S THE GOTHIC MAID OF A MANOR OF THE GHOSTLY GHOUL CONNIE /lh

Toon Shrimpo: Any future drawings will have him with attenta.

Twisted Shrimpo: You guys know the snapping shrimp with the extra big claw? Yeah same :]

Toon Looey: He balloon shaped head, makes a perfect snout with the best nose.

Twisted Looey: Nothing special, but I like him

Uncommons

Toon Brightney: Plug tail! She deserves the glasses. And I did my best to make her dress angular like in-game

Twisted Brightney: Nothing special or new sadly

Double Time!

Toon Finn: He keeps the fins, tail, and fishes sweater from his pal skin. But he has his vest and floaties over it. And he also wears jeans because it just always seems like the pants to wear as you walk in a forest with bushes as you head to the lake.

Toon Toodles: MAGIC 8-BALL!!!!!!! 80's pattern undersuit, she has the stick for playing Pool in her new ponytail. And he has a fake monocule on because of Rodger.

Twisted Finn: Fins are shattered off. The liquid has kinda leaked out at this point.

Twisted Toodles: So you know the inside of a magic 8-ball is the blue liquid and the pyramid with answers right? Yeah it's floating in her broken up head.

Connie: ....I love her but I had NOTHING

Toon Teagan: Feather boa tail, why not?

Twisted Teagan: The tail becomes a little creature, I haven't drawn this kinda tail in forEVER. It eats the tapes she steals [[[ALSO YEAH WHILE DRAWING HER, I LEARNED SHE STEALS TAPES IF SHE HURTS YOU, I DIDN'T KNOW THIS FOR MONTHS]]]

Toon Razzle@Dazzle: I gave him a cutepattern on his shirt, and he has two ribbon tails

Twisted Razzle and Dazzle: Nothing here sadly again

It's my boi!!

Toon Rodger: He has a fancy suit, with pants and little shoes. Cuffs on the sleeves. And he has a second eye based on this second glass some of these magnifying glasses have.

Twisted Rodger: Serpertine >:]

Rare

Toon Goob: Spring Arms :D Also super fluff :DD He also has a puffball tail. It's a literal cottenball.

Twisted Good: His arms are streched out, stuck being slack.

Toon Scraps: She's got a kitty nose, and her angular-ness was hard to draw

Twisted Scraps: I shaped her ears like devil horns.

Toon Flutter: More patterns on her wings. And she's got more sections on her body to get a tail

Twisted Flutter: Zombie devil combo. Devil tail and attenta shaped like horns, stitches on her head [because it used to be another broken heart, yes bloody]

Toon Gigi: Grabby hand tail, i'm fan of it. She has star charms in her head, and she has a backpack. Also her sweater is now kinda a crop top with leggings. Her backback also has pins of all the mains, and it's filled inside with merch of the other toons.

Twisted Gigi: I just had fun drawing her

Toon Glisten: He has many new flairs and sparkles. Also, ribbon tail comes once again.

Twisted Glisten: Just wish I could hug him

Main

Toon Pebble: He has floppy ears and a more detailed flower on the face.

Twisted Pebble: I really wish I committed to adding a geode design where his neck connects to the body. Like his head broke of the main body and exposed all the lovely purple insides?

Toon Shelly: Big old dino tail, heart buttons on her overalls, and a fun little hat for her fossiling adventures.

Twisted Shelly: Well she... has a thicker tail <:]

Toon Astro: Why did I go this hard for him, he looks like a wizard with the hat, I love him. He's got little star tails, his blanket is now a fun sweater. He has ankle bracelets backed on the frills of his star time skin. And the black side of his head is now sun/star shaped.

Twisted Astro: His star spikes are droopy

Toon Vee: TV Host Suit! She's the greatest

Twisted Vee: Did my best to have the segmented legs and neck

Toon Sprout: Snout headcanon is peak Sprout design. He now has winter overalls [like me] to just add to the cozy scarf look. He also has a tail shaped like the flower strawberries grow from.

Twisted Sprout: The ichor on his scarf is intended to look like a heart, it's not that noticable...

Dandy: DandyLION COME ON I HAVE TO. He's gets a tail and mane.

Christmas Times

Ginger: She has a blind peppermint cane, thought it would be nice.

Bobette: Cute little spiral hook [they are annoying to hang on trees though]

Rudie: Curly :]

Coal and the twisted will come later on

Here's Dandy in the sweater

[icanseethefuture333]

hello, I'm your new follower, I saw your reading of Taeyong and Mark and I found it interesting because I already guessed it a long time ago, like your reading really accurate, I don't understand why many people don't agree with Mark's ideal type because it seems so obvious? Of course it's impossible for Mark to express his wild/dark desires openly, it's not like Mark wants someone completely innocent, can I ask you to read Johnny's? because from all of them I had a hard time guessing his because I think Johnny's placement is the type who looks like he likes something bold and pleasured but on the other hand is also safe and stable? if that makes sense. he looks picky but appreciates all the women around him and it becomes difficult to know the type of woman he really dreams of, thank you.

have a good day.

A reading on

Johnny from NCT's ideal type:

Qualities:

Johnny looks for someone who is able to rely on him during through the hard times, be tender and sincere, as well as being optimistic. He could like for his partner to be a bit clumsy and naive? Johnny finds this adorable. He could like for his partner to be able to cook or have traditional values such as wanting to have a family or fit the typical roles of a husband and wife. Someone with a warm presence and is naturally kind hearted by nature would win his heart. Johnny could be more reserved, so he would like for his partner to bring him out of his shell and be someone who is outgoing, friendly, and adventurous. He would like to travel or do fun, risky events with his partner (for example maybe bungee jumping or rock climbing?).

Personality:

What Johnny finds attractive in a partner is someone who is playful, smart, and open minded. He could find it attractive if his partner pretends to be innocent sexually or acts clueless like "omggg did I do that?🤭 I had no idea 👀😈" (channeled song: Oops! I Did It Again by Britney Spears) 👀😳. Johnny is more dominant by nature so he could like if his partner takes a more submissive role. Regardless, he still values his partner's thoughts and opinions, so someone who has good communication skills would be important to him as well. Johnny is turned off by someone who gets overly jealous and lacks trust, so he would want his partner to talk about their wants, needs, and fears with him. Emotional and intellectual intelligence is a big turn on for him (sapiosexual?). The desire to travel here is showing up again, he wants to see the world with his partner. Johnny would find it attractive if his partner tells him the stories of their life or anything about their culture.

Physical traits:

When I saw The Hanged Woman card I was shocked honestly because I was getting a vibe that Johnny wanted to say a few things sexually about his ideal type but was refraining himself from doing so and the cards said here is a confirmation 😂. For what he finds physically attractive is obviously someone with a nice figure or body. If they are curvy or have a "fertile" figure (Johnny did not like this term, I heard him say "ew", but thats what comes to mind when I think of this body type 💀), such as wider hips or hourglass frame, that would immediately draw his attention. Also a pretty ... um- (channeled song: Pussy Talk by City Girls ft. Doja Cat). He could also want to have a baby with someone and settle down soon.

Prefers someone who is feminine or identifies with those pronouns/gender

Athletic women (think of like girls who play volleyball, run track, etc)

Casual style or sporty chic

Toned muscles

Light or "no makeup" makeup looks

Natural beauty

Facial features that could be described as "elegant" or "sensual" (a mix of softness and sharpness in the bone structure. Rounder almond eyes and full lips)

Grown woman body (fully developed and done with puberty - curvy, wide hips being significant).

Nice backside (back, hips, and butt)

No preference regarding hair style, color, or texture ("What she decides to do with her hair is none my business, as long as she's happy, I just like when it's styled nicely." - Johnny)

No preference regarding skin color

"Fresh eyebrows"??? He likes when they're threaded or waxed.

Soft hands (this isn't so much about looks, but he likes the way they feel)

Pretty feet

Someone within his age group or slightly older.

Around his height or shorter

"I'm not picky as in when it comes to like what their racial background is and stuff, but more so how they keep up with their appearance and everything. I don't wanna sound shallow, but I prefer someone who's clean and dresses nice since I do the same. When can have our lazy days together at the house." (Channeled song: Best I Ever Had by Drake)

Celebrities/influencers who are similar to his ideal type: Cenit Nadir, Alisha Boe, Isabellemathersx, Jihyo, Lola Tung, Crystal Serrano, Marilyn Melo, Aisha Potter, Christy Turlington, & luna444

[sensei-venus]

anyway I might be a masochist or a straight up wh*re but I can’t get the thought of og cobras with a chubby!reader out of my head and teasing her in school, staring at her, flipping her skirt up (Dutch would do it all the time imho) and telling her how hot she is, how that outfit looks so good on her, etc and she’s thinking that they’re just being dicks to her because she’s chubby and then one day she just has enough of it and confronts them and tells them to stop being dicks and they’re just like oops-

because I 100% agree that those boys are giant himbos so they were being genuine and flirting and teasing her because they like her and think she’s hot and they don’t realize that she thinks they’re being mean to her and they’re like “oh my god no-“

and yeah it ends up in a giant orgy of them showing her that they’re actually serious 🤤

No! I definitely get this and I love it. Honestly I love the trope where the more “bad guy character/s” pick on their crush but it's actually because their kinda stupid to the fact what they are doing can be seen as mean.

Half of them just think they are giving her compliments. And when she gets upset or mad they think she's trying to play with them, trying to play hard to get.

Bobby and Jimmy always give her straight-up nice compliments, like how her new hair style is cute or how pretty she is. They always take notice of her looks or how she's acting. Both of them are the first to know of she is doing something new with her make up or skin routine. Both of them are just overly sweet to her even if the other guys aren't.

Johnny and Tommy are the ones glaring her down from afar. They both talk about how hot she looks and how sexy she is. They don't go to overboard with the comments but they can't help but admit how attractive she is. As long as Dutch isn't around it's pretty tame conversations.

The minute Dutch is around, oh no because this guy can't keep his mouth shut for the life of him. He's always spewing something and he has no filter on his thoughts either. Everything always gets nasty when he's around and talking. All the bous could be sitting around and talking a out the pure thing they know about Reader, but then he opens his mouth.

Dutch is the starter if jerk circles and he knows it. It's all his fault and he's happy about it.

Besides Bobby, Johnny is actually one of the sweetest in the group. He's the first one to say something to her when they are all around. Yes his comments may be....a tad bit gross or borderline inappropriate but he's trying to be nice. He just doesn't seem to get that you can't say “Wow your tits look great stuffed into that shirt babe.” to someone and they automatically think you're a great guy.

Insert Johnny getting backhanded multiple times but never dodging. All the other cobras won't admit it but they think it's hot to see her get so mad.

Dutch definitely flips her skirts and dresses like a lot but never in front of too many people. Dude gets off on panty shots way to much. Of course the other boys don't mind it either. They all end up popping boners a lot because of Dutch’s gross stupidity.

They don't really understand until one day it goes a bit too far.

Dutch tries to pinch her hip to get her skirt to ride up just a little because he wants to get a good look at her thick thighs. They're so soft and pillowy. But her on accident actually snap her painted which makes her yelp and shoot up with a huge blush on her face while trying to hold her skirt down. She turns around and tells them off for once, not carrying about her normal shyness. She calls them assholes and morons and that she's tired of their bullying. They kinda scratch their heads at this because, like, their not bullying her? They wouldn't be complaining her left and right and trying to see up her skirt if they didn't actually like her.

At that moment they start to put together the pieces and realize the mistake. She actually thought they were picking on her and trying to make her into a joke.

After the incident they try to think of a way to get her to see they actually meant all of the nice things they said to her.

Which ends up being them inviting them over to Bobby’s, where they spoil her for the night with food and a movie. This ultimately ends with them in Bobby’s decked-out basement having a huge orgy. Jerking each other off before fucking the chubby girl. Taking turns using all her holes, and after a while, she gives them up. They switch from her mouth to her pussy to anything else she wants. It's pure bliss all night long.

And after the night is done, Reader fully understands that her new group of boyfriends isn't that bad. Their just stupid, aggressive himbos. But she wouldn't trade them for anything after finding out the truth, and giving them a lesson.