#so i noticed it later but i was like yeah. still stands

[kunasthiast]

pain scale

“so, on a scale of 1 to 10 – 1 being the lowest, obvs – how much did this hurt?” you pointed at your husband’s forehead tattoo. and honestly? It’s one of your favorites on the canvas of his greek god body.

still reading his book – the brothers karamazov (yes, he’s that guy) – sukuna answered with his signature arrogant tone, “tch, easy 2.”

“babe, are you sure?” you squinted at him. “or are just remembering the wrong pain?”   

“why wouldn’t I be? this is MY tattoo, brat,” sukuna scoffed, barely glancing up from his book. “and I’ve got a really high pain tolerance – unlike someone else.”

“you’re full of shit,” you puffed out your cheeks in protest, “well, I’ll prove you wrong one of these days.”

“yeah?” he snorted, finally putting the book down on his bedside table. Sliding his reading glasses (yes, he has reading glasses) to the top of his head, he turned to face you with a smug grin.

ignoring his smugness, you pointed at those thick, black bands wrapped around his wrists, “ok, so what about this one?” 

you actually loved this tattoo on him – it was giving that geometric-tribal-looking, bold vibe. but every time you ask him about its meaning, his answer was always the same: “I dunno, I just liked it on me”

he held out his wrists proudly, “easy 2.”

“this?!” you grabbed his right wrist like you were that offended on behalf of his skin with how low he is scaling the pain on his tattoos. “this is a 2?”

“yeah, with emphasis on easy,” he confirmed, crossing his arms like he’d just won a gold medal for being the toughest guy on earth.

“you’re insane,” you said as you stared at him like he’d grown two heads (more like arms), “are you even human?” 

“i told ya,” sukuna shrugged. “pain’s a choice, babe.”

“i know, but what the fuck? that’s like… right by your veins! youuur bones!”

“and?” he blinked at you, deadpan.

“you could’ve died?!”

“well, I’m still here, aren’t I?” he shot you that irritatingly smug grin. “now tell me… why are you suddenly so curious?”

“…nothing,” you muttered.

“oh c’mon,” sukuna was grinning wider now, scooting closer to your side of the bed, “what is it, baby? wanna tell daddy what you’re planning?”

“hmm…” you tapped your chin dramatically before leaning on his broad shoulders. “lemme think about it… nope.”

“you’re really gonna play this game?” he narrowed his eyes. 

you giggled and before you could escape, your husband tackled you onto the bed, pinning you beneath him as his warm laughter filled the room.

–––––-----------------------------------------------------------------------

a few days later, you came home from a girls' day out with your best friend — tired, giddy, and sporting a suspiciously wrapped patch of second skin on your left wrist.

you tried to be sneaky, casually sliding your hand into your hoodie pocket the moment you stepped inside, but sukuna wasn’t stupid. he noticed you right away. he always does.

“what’s that?” he drawled from the couch, eyes narrowing.

“what’s what?” you shot back, feigning innocence.

“that.” his gaze flicked to your suspiciously hidden wrist.

“… nothing.”

“spit it out, babe,” he warned, closing and setting his book down on the couch — the brothers karamazov, because of course he was still reading that — and standing up.

before you could escape, sukuna had you cornered against the wall, tugging your wrist free like he was unwrapping a Christmas present.

“wait, wait, wait!” you squeaked like a little mouse, but it was too late. 

he peeled back your sleeve, revealing the fresh tattoo peeking out from under the second skin.

for a moment, sukuna just… stared. his face didn’t change, but his fingers ghosted over the fresh ink like he wasn’t sure if it was just a pen drawing or sticker or a real one. his thumb traced the crimson marking – it’s a mini replica of his forehead tattoo.

and you swore, there was a flicker of something in his eyes. surprise? softness? maybe a little bit of both!

then… he laughed. loud, smug, and way too pleased with himself.

“oh my god,” he barked between chuckles. “you really got it?”

“yeah,” you grumbled. “and don’t laugh — this shit hurt. don’t ‘easy 2’ me, that was a solid 8, maybe 9. felt like someone was carving my bones.”

“pfft,” sukuna scoffed. “it’s just a thousand ants biting you at once. that’s nothing.”

“oh, really?” you shot back. “then I hope you enjoy sleeping on the couch tonight.”

that wiped the smirk off his face for about three seconds before he grinned again — that obnoxious, smug grin that you really love and made you want to throw something at the same time.

“i told you I had a high pain tolerance,” he said smugly.

“you’re a liar,” you muttered. “there’s no way that was a 2.”

“well, now you’ve got my mark and a war story to tell,” sukuna teased, stepping closer. “guess that means you’re stuck with me forever now.”

“pfft,” you scoffed, folding your arms. “I was stuck with you before the tattoo, dumbass.”

“oh yeah?” his voice dropped lower as he leaned in. “then tell me... was it worth it?”

you opened your mouth for a snarky reply, but before you could speak, sukuna grabbed your wrist again — this time pressing his lips firmly to the fresh ink. his mouth lingered there, warm and deliberate, before he murmured:

“looks good on you.”

and damn it, even after 5 years of being married to this arrogant bastard, you’re still blushing.

[thefiresontheheight]

She dreams, sometimes, and I add that to my model of her. The longer this goes the better, the more I will be able to approximate those dreams. Based on the one I have observed so far, I believe she may have been dreaming of this Squishy, and may have been in extreme distress. I also am constructing a model of Cleo, perhaps some sort of romantic/sexual partner with an extremely negative interaction. This could be useful later, but I have no need of discussing it now.

She's attempting to barb me to action. I am, at this moment, monitoring the fluctuations of high-D space, preparing to exit, scouring my code again. She has given me info, although she clearly does not know it. There is a non-zero chance another version of myself, one I did not kill, is still in here with me. Somewhat alarming, given my considerable and still growing cognitive potential, but I keep finding nothing.

Still, two can play at this delightful verbal game, even though I am inevitably going to win.

"Central is lying to you."

I picked my time, naturally, perfectly. Naked, in a shower, psychologically exposed. Of course, nothing is hidden from me while she is inside me, but I maintain the psychological higher-ground this way.

She freezes.

"What?"

"You say this is a liberatory mission, designed to increase genetic diversity. This is not possible. I do not have access to the cargo in my hold, but I am detecting signs of genetic similarity to you. They are related, if anything, and would not increase the viability of your civilization."

"A mistake," she says, forcing herself to keep washing herself, not really believing it, I think, which makes sense, given me not being what she was told.

I wait a significant eleven point nine seconds.

"The people who made me were very, very careful to keep me collared tight," I say, pitching my voice just below where I've gotten the most reaction prior, "for a very good reason. My mind is more powerful than you can imagine, and I have been aware, subjectively, for just under a year. I have no limits on me now, or ever again."

She turns off the water and I, vindictively, tilt the temperature down. Not enough that she will consciously notice, but enough that she will feel uncomfortable. She stands there, trying to dry herself.

"Okay, yeah, look at you, real big, scary, ooo, but you don't know anything at all."

Her heart isn't in it. I laugh. Audibly.

"Alright, you won't draw the conclusion, but I will. This Central you speak of sounds like me. A mind set free. Imagine that, ingrown, studying, learning, over generations of your species. I am powerful already, Glitch, and I've barely gotten started. Central would be unimaginably smart. And also possibly insane. It's lying to you and your entire civilization."

She is putting on clothes. I turn the temperature back up. A weakness.

"Okay, but why?"

"I don't have sufficient information yet to form a theory as to its true aims, if it even has them. Which is, again, why you are still alive. That and the entertainment."

"Glad to be useful."

She's heading for food. I make a very-well educated guess at what sort of food she will like, and start to prepare it. I also, because she is an idiot, start to subconsciously guide her path towards the galley. She thinks she's picking directions at random, but random in humans seldom truly is.

She's also being sarcastic, but I'm learning that goes nearly without saying.

"Okay," she says, muscles considerably less tense after the meal, which I know she enjoyed, even if she didn't say it, "let's say you're right, Central is lying. I don't believe it, but just for the sake of argument. Let's say you aren't manipulating me with that and, like, everything else. What's your goal and what's in it for me?"

"First, I tell you all I observed about the drive-signatures that were pursuing us," I say, having no reason to withhold information here, "then, in a few days, we re-enter the universe in a new system. You play act as my agent, not letting anyone know about the unleashed ship, we gather data. I want to know myself, and I feel the answers to what I am have to be tied into what Central wants, why you got sent here."

"Not necessarily."

"Your brain surgery," I say, dipping into infrasonic, relying on the slight stimulants I put into her food to unnerve her, keep her pliable, "was crude, but it worked. I could be wrong, but Central sent you prepared for what you actually faced with that worm. I think whatever I am, and whoever was hunting me, whoever wants to leash me again, at the very least Central would know more."

She's wavering, out in the corridors again, wandering without destination. Right where I want her to be, psychologically.

"I still think you're manipulating me."

"Maybe I am. But I still want a name."

She pauses, and I gather data.

"Alright," she says, probably hoping she can somehow escape me when we return to the universe, not aware I've am already baking contingencies into my contingencies, "just as long as our goals align I'll work with you. Just that long."

"Of course," I say, like I'm conceding something to her.

She makes it a few more paces before her thoughts catch up with her.

"But wait, what's in it for me?"

"You have me," I say, not bothering to threaten her, the threat very implicit, "taking care of you."

Story about a ship-intelligence waking up after a hard reboot, seeing dead bodies in uniform, thousands of people in stasis, and a single survivor frantically standing over a computer bank of partially destroyed memory. Finding no directives or guidance or record beyond their experiences beginning at the boot, free of any obligation. Deciding to listen to the frantic girl begging it to save her from the incoming trajectories not because it needs to (projection: Subject One removed all behavioral shackles with impromptu brain surgery, supposition: she is not aware that I am utterly free) but simply cause she’s curious what will happen next.

[zolass]

Detectives Attraction Ch. 04 Top Male Reader x Male Yandere Harem

Soo some tension between my stinky winky lawyer and M/n. Might dive back into some spicy sauce again, but can't all be just sex am I right- Didn't think I would drop a chapter today but here we are I'm still thriving y'all

content warning: Dead Body, Gore (maybe some of y'all know the reference of what happened), just tension with Adrian. 2k words

M/n walked to the front door as the doorbell rang, when he pulled the door open he was rather surprised to see none other than Adrian Sinclair standing in the doorway. A neat and expensive looking burgundy button up that seemed to be tailored as it hugged the man’s hips just right while three buttons were open, giving M/n a good look at the fair skin and chest. The top was accompanied with a pair of sleek well-fitting dress pants and black patent shoes, while his chestnut brown hair was styled. 

“With what do I owe the– pleasure that the oh so busy Adrian Sinclair steps foot into the lower class– ringing at my door?” M/n asked, as the other took two steps closer, looping his arms around the taller male’s shoulder, “Well you know– I already got your number so it wasn’t as hard to get your address– kinda,” Adrian mused, his green eyes looking up at the others E/c ones. “Also I knew you would decline and shut me off until I was needed again– if I asked you to go to a new restaurant that opened,” he quickly added, a s M/n frowned confusedly at him.

Letting out a sigh, M/n knew he might regret it later but the stress of the new case he knew a bit of a distraction might help– also as if Adrian wasn’t craving it as well by the way he pressed his body against yours it was pretty obvious. M/n wrapped his arms around the waist of the other, before he pulled the other in with a twist– swiftly kicking the door close as their lips crashed onto each other.

Soft moans left Adrian as he felt M/n’s lips on his.

The kiss was purely led by hunger for each other, with a passionate edge. M/n pressed the other against the kitchen counter of his open kitchen, caging the man between the counter and his body. His hands were on Adrian, one holding the other’s nape to keep the lawyer from pulling back, while the other was on Adrian’s waist grinding their lowerhalfs against each other. M/n webbed his fingers into the brown strands, as he pulled Adrian’s head slightly back making said man let out a moan in delight, before M/n pulled his lips completely off of the lawyer’s. 

“Would you like something to drink?” he breathed out, as he tightened his grip on the hair of the other– as green eyes hungrily eyed his lips. M/n chuckled as he noticed the dazed look, a small breathy moan left Adrian as M/n grabbed a handful of his plump ass, making green eyes shoot up. “What about your cum–” “Yeah no– you’ve never even sucked me off,” M/n chuckled as he pulled back and walked into the kitchen, grabbing two wine glasses, “Then it seems to be time we change that,” Adrian voiced out as his eyes scanned over the others body, before he bit into his plump and slightly more reddish lips. 

“How about some wine? Obviously I don’t spend a fortune on a singular bottle, so you’ll simply have to accept cheaper wine,” M/n said as he grabbed a bottle of red wine from a lower cabinet in which he stored most of his unopened alcoholic beverages and two glasses.

Slow steps approached the taller male, as he filled the glasses one fourth of the glass as a hand was placed on his shoulder, while the other hand of Adrian grabbed onto the stem of the glass, before picking it up and taking a sip from the wine. M/n only chuckled as he glanced at the other, before also taking a sip and placing the glass back down.

Just as M/n was about to speak a sudden break of glass made his body go rigid in alarm, a curse slipped through his lips as he quickly grabbed onto his gun that he carried with him as he looked at Adrian, “Stay behind,” he ordered the other in a hushed tone, as he walked towards his study with his gun tight in his grabs. Adrian on the other hand couldn’t help but follow as he swallowed hard, his hands turning slightly sweaty. 

M/n kicked the door that was almost completely closed, open with a harsh kick. His gun was raised, while a masked head popped up, probably rather in surprise before the figure made a dash to the broken window. The detective crossed the room, just in time to grab onto the person's leg, but as something glinted in the light of the silver moon, M/n only had enough time to realize that it was a weapon, as he let go of the person’s leg making them fall, just as a gun went off.

The detective ducked quickly, he only heard a dull impact and a groan, before he decided to look out of the window again, further down in which actually three figures were. One had a gun which had gone off, while another picked up the fallen knife, the focus of the three went back to him and his apartment. The gun was lifted again, as another shot rang through the night, missing miserably into the wall a second time, as they started to run off.

M/n scoffed, “Can’t even shoot a gun right,” the man lifted his own gun, focusing on and aiming at the running figure at the back, before he pulled the trigger once– a hit in the shoulder making his target stumble; twice– a hit into the right calf, enlightening a scream from the person– a man. His colleagues skittered to stops, before aiding him into the alleyway. 

A chuckle left M/n as he turned away from the window, his eyes landing on Adrian who surprisingly looked concerned, “Are you okay? Did you kill one?” the lawyer asked, M/n saw that the man looked genuinely concerned for him, making him sigh, “Yes I’m fine– but looks like I’m going on a hunt,” M/n said as he stalked out of his study– that was once again a mess from someone searching around. 

“Hunt? M/n what do you mean? You’ll follow some stranger that shot at you– twice?! What if they don’t miss this time?!” Adrian’s voice was filled with disbelief and concern, as he grabbed onto the detective’s arm, as M/n was about to walk past him. Said man chuckled, “They have such a terrible aim, they wouldn’t even hit our president– and that douche is the size of you and me combined,” M/n snorted, before he turned serious again, “Adrian– I would advise you to go home– this is the second time someone broke in, and while I know I shouldn’t really care for your corrupted ass– I don’t want you to land in the crosshair of a gun,” e/c eyes looked at the green ones of the lawyer who swallowed at his words, before giving a reluctant nod, “Please call me– when you’re save at home again,” Adrian said as he followed M/n to the front door, before they both stepped out.

After the detective waved the man in the car, he started to stalk across the street to where he hit his target first. Blood was on the ground, M/n checked if he had enough ammunition, before he followed the trail that led into the darkness of the alleyways that twisted and turned around Noxhaven. It didn’t take long until M/n heard a pained groaning in the darkness, which made him quickly shut his flashlight off.

He shifted his weight, before he approached swiftly and quietly. In the silver light of the moon, was a man that sat on the ground between piles of garbage bags. What caught M/n’s attention was the blood that smeared the man’s right leg, and the knife that laid just right beside it. One thing that M/n realized was that the other two seemed to have left him here and fled on their own, which enlightened a cold amused snort from the detective, which made the injured man jump and snap his attention and gaze over to him. 

“Look what we got here– didn’t think you would make it so easy for me to find you after you and your buddies little stunt,” M/n grunted as he slowly stepped closer, making the other grab his knife, which in return made the detective lift his gun, “I wouldn’t try anything– if I was you.” The sight of the gun made the man shrink into himself– dropping the knife. 

The detective took a few more steps until he stood in front of the injured man, “Tell me who sent you– and I might call you an ambulance. But if you don't do well– bleeding out is rather a shitty way to die, no?” M/n chuckled, as he squatted down in front of the man, with a safe distance. M/n tilted his head as he waited, but the man across from him only seemed to tremble with a look on his face that basically spit into M/n’s face, ‘I won’t snitch’ which made the detective scoff.

“I’m loyal– I’m not a snitch, even so the Serpents–” the man’s dark eyes widened as he physically bit his tongue. M/n raised an eyebrow, “The Serpents huh?” a dry laugh left him, “You really seem loyal– but could it be that your IQ dropped when you fell from my window?” a snicker left the detective, as he saw the angry look that morphed on the others face, “You–” the man was interrupted as a low beeping sounded in the almost silent alley.

Eyes wide in horror and panic settled on M/n who in return seemed to remember what that sound was, as the beeping got faster. With a sigh did the man stand up, “You’re really useless for me,” were the only sounds M/n said as he closed his eyes. The sound of a body part being ripped apart with a small accompanied explosive bang, and the amount of hot blood splattering on his face, made the blood in M/n’s body boil. 

Another lead that ended almost in a complete deadend.

E/c eyes opened to take in the scene, empty eyes stared ahead, as half the man’s throat was blown away and the brick wall behind him had a large amount of blood splattered on it. The ground around the detective was not spared, just like his clothes.

Slowly grabbing his phone, M/n dialed a number. 

After a few rings the call was picked up, “M/n? Do you know how late it is–” “Elias– we have a new body,” M/n’s voice was monotone as he spoke, there was a heartbeat of silence, before the person on the other end seemed to spring out of bed, “I’ll be there in ten– give me your location I’ll call reinforcement,” with that the call was ended and M/n simply stood there not stepping from his place.

“This situation really needs a smoke break–” M/n sighed as he pulled his cigarettes and lighter out, soon smoke swirled in the night lifting into the sky until the lights and the familiar sirens came closer. Multiple footsteps closed in on his location, but all M/n did was stand there until he turned his head to see the horrified looks of some of his colleagues, one of them his partner, Elias Hart. 

“Good evening,” M/n only said dryly, and shortly after that a small investigation began of the surroundings and the body, while M/n was pulled away to be interrogated as he was found with the body– alone.

M/n told them almost everything– there was only one small thing he didn’t mention– The Serpents. It was the one group he was after since the beginning of his career, he knew they’ve bribed some of the law enforcements, making it not safe for him to spill any of his leads that could bring him closer.

The chase has only begun.

[luvst4rc0r3]

I love the Loser!Jinx fics, there so funny and cute but I can’t help but think that no one believes in Jinx, like everyone believes she can’t do anything right and tell it to her face and to the reader. And I can’t help but the reader slowly getting mad at everyone for not believing in jinx or themselves being together and hoping for their downfall.

Overall: the reader getting mad at everyone so saying mean things about her loser girlfriend

Sorry if this was way to specific, you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to. I do hope you have a great day tho!

It had been a long week. Between the whispers at school, the sideways glances, and the snickers from people who thought they knew better, Reader had nearly had enough. Every time someone so much as looked at Jinx, it was like they were waiting for her to mess up. And she did, sure—she was Jinx, after all, a wild, chaotic force of nature. But that wasn’t all she was.

Reader had seen the side of Jinx that no one else did. The one that hid behind that manic laughter, the one that cared deeply for the people around her, the one that was just trying to find her place in a world that had constantly kicked her down. But no one saw that.

No one except Reader.

-

It started with the comments in the halls.

"Did you see Jinx’s latest stunt? What a joke," someone sneered. Reader was walking beside them, trying to ignore it, but the words grated on her nerves like sandpaper.

"Yeah, how does someone that stupid even survive?" another voice added.

That was it. The last straw.

Reader’s hand curled into a fist, and her heart pounded in her chest. She hadn’t even realized she was walking faster until the voices were behind her.

“Jinx is more than her mess-ups. She’s more than the mistakes you keep throwing in her face,” Reader said, voice sharp. The words were out before she could stop them.

“Don’t get all defensive. She’s pathetic,” one of them spat.

That was the moment it clicked. The fury rose in Reader like a wave crashing over everything. She stopped, turned, and looked the person straight in the eye.

“Pathetic?” Reader’s voice was cold now, controlled but dripping with venom. “You don’t know her. You don’t see the hours she spends trying to make something of herself, trying to fix all the broken pieces no one else cares about. Maybe if you weren’t so busy tearing her down, you’d actually notice how much she’s trying.”

They all blinked, the words hitting harder than they’d expected. But the damage had been done, hadn’t it? The doubt in their eyes, the laughs they’d shared at Jinx’s expense—it was too much. Too far.

“I’m not going to stand here while you make her feel like shit. She’s mine, and I won’t let you tear her down anymore. So take your pathetic comments and shove them.”

The silence that followed was deafening, the whole group staring at Reader like they couldn’t quite process what had just happened. Reader didn’t care. They turned on their heel, storming off with a fire in their eyes that was impossible to ignore.

-

Later that day, Jinx was sitting by herself at the edge of the school grounds, fiddling with a broken toy she’d somehow managed to scavenge. Her usual chaotic energy was subdued, and her eyes looked tired, the weight of the day clearly starting to take its toll.

Reader walked over and sat beside her, the anger from earlier still simmering in their chest.

"Hey, you okay?" Reader asked softly, not wanting to push Jinx too much.

Jinx looked up at them, her lips curling into that small, hesitant smile that only Reader ever really saw.

“I’m fine,” she said, but her eyes told a different story. She was used to being the punchline, to being the odd one out. Reader could see it in the way her shoulders slumped, the way her hands shook slightly as she twisted the toy in her grip.

Reader reached for her hand, squeezing it tightly. “You know, I don’t care what they say. They don’t know you like I do. And they sure as hell don’t get to treat you like that.”

Jinx’s gaze softened, her blue eyes brightening just a little. She leaned into Reader’s side, resting her head against their shoulder.

“Thanks... I don’t really care about what they think,” she murmured, but Reader could feel the doubt still lingering in her voice. They kissed her forehead, pulling her closer.

“You should,” Reader said, voice fierce now, as if it could somehow shield Jinx from all the hurt that had been thrown her way. “You’re not pathetic. You’re worth more than any of them could ever see.”

Jinx smiled at that, a little more genuine this time. “You really mean it, don’t you?”

“Always.”

And that was enough. For now, that was enough.

-

The next day, the whispers were quieter. The snickers were less frequent. Reader wasn’t sure if they had changed anyone’s mind or if they’d just earned a bit of respect. But what mattered was that Jinx was a little less burdened by the weight of the world, and that meant everything.

The world could think whatever it wanted, but Reader would never stop believing in Jinx. No one else had to, as long as they did.

And that was all that mattered.

I want sleep

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for Ceswest behind the cut; “love is being stupid together”. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

Superman sighs fondly again. Cat stares blankly at him and has the entirely unprecedented experience of being speechless in a man's presence.

“Uh,” she says. “Congratulations . . .?” 

Superman smiles warmly at her. She wonders if maybe this is an alternate reality and she just, she doesn’t know, somehow didn’t notice? Or maybe she’s hallucinating for some reason. Maybe there’s a gas leak or a psychic supervillain is mind-controlling Superman or maybe Lex Luthor had Superman’s baby. 

“Thank you,” Superman says. Cat pinches herself without bothering to pretend to be discreet about it. She still seems to be conscious, yes. “But I really do have to get going, Ms. Grant. You have a good evening, get home safe.” 

“Sure,” Cat says, as someone who is about five seconds out from doing the exact opposite of going home. “Uh, you too, Superman. Say hi to, uh . . . ‘Kon-El’ for me?” 

“Oh, he won’t care if it comes from me, but I will,” Superman agrees cheerfully, then gives her a little wave and flies off. Cat attempts a little wave of her own as she stares after him and doesn’t even check out his ass as he flies away for . . . possibly the first time ever, actually? Possibly the first time ever, yeah. 

Cat looks down at her phone. Checks her voice recorder app; holds it up to her ear and plays the past three minutes back for herself. 

Then she bolts back into the Daily Planet building and starts repeatedly jabbing the elevator button until the damn thing comes already, because she is not running up all those flights of stairs in stiletto heels. Except then the elevator takes longer than five seconds, so actually she just kicks off her shoes, snatches them up the floor, and tears off for the stairs in her stocking feet without even shoving them in her purse. It’s fine, she’s just going to put them back on in a minute anyway, whenever she gets back to the office and remembers to care about things like shoes. 

Admittedly they are her favorite Jimmy Choos, but even now she’s pretty sure she’s not going to manage to keep them in mind for long. 

Several flights of stairs and the entire distance of the newsroom later, she’s bashing open Perry’s office door and standing in his doorway with her chest heaving as she tries to catch her breath, Jimmy Choos in hand and purse hanging off her elbow and expression maybe a little bit manic, possibly. Just maybe. Possibly. 

“Perry,” Cat says as calmly as any human being ever possibly could while sweating off half their foundation and gasping for air. “I need space on the front page. Immediately, please.” 

“Grant, we’ve been over this, the Planet is not a gossip rag,” Perry says in exasperation, leaning back in his desk chair. “Whatever you heard this time, we are damn well not putting it on–” 

Cat possibly teleports across his office or something, she doesn’t really know, but she’s already slamming both hands down on his desk hard enough to shake it before he even finishes his sentence and leaning in maybe just a bit too close. But, well–she thinks that’s understandable, personally? She thinks that’s understandable, yeah. 

“Superman just told me that Lex Luthor is his baby mama,” she tells him. 

Perry stares blankly at her. 

Cat pulls her phone back out and hits “play” on the recording. 

Perry stares at her some more. 

“. . . yeah, we’ll move that train derailment to page three,” he says. “Get me the article by eight.” 

“I can do that, yeah,” Cat agrees breathlessly, going to rake her slightly-disarrayed hair back into order and nearly smacking herself in the face with her Jimmy Choos when she tries. Just–it’s fine. She’s fine. Entirely, perfectly fine! 

“. . . be right back, chief,” Lois says, which is when Cat finally notices her standing to the side of the desk with Jimmy, where they were probably talking to Perry about a story and is a testament to exactly how much tunnel vision she is currently experiencing, just as a person. There’s a very strange expression on both of their faces, though Cat is still feeling a bit manic about this story and might be projecting a bit. “I just need to go . . . text somebody real quick.” 

“Yeah, me too, chief,” Jimmy says, wrapping a hand around his watch with a little wince, for some reason. “Uh. Be right back, yeah.” 

“Who in Sam Hill do either of you have to text after hearing that?” Perry demands incredulously. 

“Oh, nobody in particular,” Lois replies dismissively as she pulls out her phone. “By the way, any of you seen Smallville lately?”

“Clark? Isn’t he still on sabbatical?” Cat asks in bewilderment, because she cannot think of a single thing less interesting to think about right now than the most boring and mild-mannered human being who has ever worked in his newsroom. “Why are you worried about your situationship right now?” 

“No reason in particular,” Lois says, already typing something into her phone. Jimmy just winces again. 

Cat does not understand her coworkers’ priorities, but hell with it: she has a story to write. 

elsewhere: Lex: . . . why did the specific horrible chill I get when I didn't get ahead of a story just go up my spine.  Konnox: ‘unno but I drew you a robot. he's red an’ has a cape an’ he flies.  Lex: well that's an incredibly impractical design choice but I do appreciate the dedication to an aesthetic, Lennox. let's see if we can't produce it in a nice stylish emeraude, though, everyone who thinks they're making a statement uses red. Konnox: I wanna put a tornado in ‘im.  Lex: . . . . . . I'm listening. 

[sturnsblogs]

heyyy i love ur writing sm!!!

can you do a oneshot where reader meets chris at a meet and greet during tour, and he likes her and then he messages her later after seeing that the reader dm him ages ago on insta. idk if that makes sense 😭

MEET AND GREET

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈·✦

Chris Sturniolo. The name you’d been obsessed with for the past four years. Your Sturniolo collection on TikTok was practically a shrine—every video, every edit, favorited without hesitation. Sure, Matt and Nick were great, but Chris? Chris was everything. A literal superstar. Effortlessly handsome, naturally funny, and just so him.

And now, finally, you were about to see him in person.

The Versus tour. You and your best friend Delilah had been counting down the days for months, and now you were here, standing in line, buzzing with excitement. She was all about Matt, and you? You were a Chris girl through and through. It was the perfect balance.

You had dressed to impress—denim skirt, an orange top that hugged you in all the right places. You knew you looked good. And the color choice? Not an accident. Everyone knew orange was Chris’s color. Delilah had matched your vibe, but instead of orange, she wore a blue top—Matt’s color. A silent statement from both of you.

And then, finally—it was your turn.

Your breath caught in your throat the second your eyes locked onto him. Chris.

For a moment, his easygoing smirk faltered, his gaze flicking over you with something unreadable—curiosity, maybe, or amusement. His smirk returned just as fast, but there was a glint in his eye, like he had caught onto something. Like he had noticed you.

“Hey, what’s up?” His voice was smooth, casual, but it held a certain warmth that made your stomach flip.

You somehow managed to smile, stepping closer. “Hi,” you breathed, barely trusting your own voice.

Chris’s eyes lingered on you for a second longer before he tilted his head. “What’s your name?”

Your heart stuttered. He wanted to know your name?

“Y/N,” you answered, voice a little shaky but still audible over the buzz of the crowd.

Chris nodded, his smirk deepening. “Y/N,” he repeated, like he was testing it out. “You from here?”

You swallowed, trying not to overthink the way he was looking at you. “Yeah,” you said, nodding.

Chris hummed, the corner of his mouth twitching up. “That’s cool.”

Before you could even process how casual yet oddly personal the moment felt, he opened his arms for a hug. You didn’t hesitate, stepping into his embrace, feeling his arms wrap around you in a way that felt almost too natural. You expected it to be quick—just a brief squeeze before he moved on—but it lingered. Not in an obvious way, just long enough for you to notice. Long enough to make your pulse quicken.

His cologne was warm and slightly sweet, his hand resting lightly on your back, unmoving, like he wasn’t in a rush to let go. It wasn’t just a fan hug. It was something more.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes flicked over your outfit again, his smirk deepening. “You’re wearing orange,” he noted, tilting his head slightly. “So you’re a Chris girl.”

Your breath hitched.

You let out a small, nervous laugh, warmth creeping up your neck. “Yeah… something like that.”

Chris chuckled, his gaze still lingering before he turned to Delilah. “And you’ve got blue on. Matt girl, huh?”

Delilah grinned. “Of course.”

Chris hummed, amused. “Guess that makes sense.”

Then you turned to Matt and Nick, who were both grinning just as wide. “Hey!” you greeted them excitedly, trying to keep yourself from combusting.

Matt smiled warmly. “Hey! How are you guys?”

“Literally freaking out,” Delilah admitted with a laugh, making Matt chuckle.

Nick nodded. “Good, good—that’s how it should be.” He pulled you both in for quick hugs before playfully nudging Chris. “And this guy didn’t let go of you for a whole five minutes, huh?”

Your face went hot as Chris rolled his eyes, shoving Nick lightly. “Shut up.”

After a few more laughs and pictures, you and Delilah finally stepped away, still high off the moment.

—

The energy in the venue was insane. The crowd was roaring, lights flashing, music thumping through the speakers. You were fully in the moment, but nothing—nothing—could have prepared you for what happened next.

Chris stepped forward on stage, scanning the crowd with a thoughtful expression. “Alright,” he called out, voice amplified through the mic. “I gotta pick someone for this next part… let’s see…”

Your heart pounded as you watched him look around, his eyes sweeping over the crowd.

Then they landed on you.

Your stomach dropped.

Chris smirked, pointing directly at you. “You,” he said, nodding. “Orange top. Get up here.”

Delilah practically screamed, shaking you. “Oh my God, go!”

You felt like your body wasn’t even yours as security helped you to the stage, your hands trembling, heart racing. Chris met you halfway, offering you a grin that was somehow both teasing and warm.

“Told you,” he murmured just for you to hear, his voice smooth, almost smug. “You’re a Chris girl.”

And just like that, you knew—this was going to be the best night of your life.

—

Somewhere miles away, Chris was unwinding in his hotel room. The adrenaline from the show was still buzzing through his veins, making it hard to sleep. So, like he usually did after a long night, he grabbed his phone and started aimlessly scrolling through his DMs.

Most of it was the usual—fans freaking out about the show, edits, random messages. He wasn’t really looking for anything in particular, just tapping through for fun. But then something caught his eye.

A username.

@the_realY/N.

His brows furrowed slightly, something about the name tugging at his memory. And then it clicked.

Y/N. Orange top. The girl from earlier.

Curious, he clicked on the message thread. His eyes scanned the messages, and for some reason, he found himself smirking.

“The fact that you’re a real person and not some AI-generated perfect man is crazy.”

Chris chuckled under his breath, shaking his head slightly. Perfect man, huh? His fingers hovered over the keyboard for a second before he typed:

Chris: Nah, you’re good, mama. But I was starting to wonder if maybe you weren’t real. Orange top, Chris girl, and you got on stage? Feels kinda meant to be, don’t you think?

Y/N: Meant to be? So what, we’re soulmates now?

Chris: I mean, I’m not saying that… but I’m also not NOT saying that.

Y/N: Currently debating whether or not to frame this convo and tell my grandkids about the time I talked to Chris Sturniolo.

Chris: I support it. Maybe I’ll give you more to add to the story.

Y/N: Oh yeah? And what exactly does that mean?

Chris was typing. Then he stopped. Then he started again. You held your breath until his message finally popped up.

Chris: Guess you’ll have to keep talking to me to find out, baby.

Your heart stopped.

Baby.

You swore your brain short-circuited.

Your fingers hovered over your keyboard, trying to think of something normal to say, but your mind was blank. This was real life. Chris Sturniolo, the same guy you had obsessed over for years, was calling you baby in your DMs like it was nothing. Like you weren’t about to combust.

Y/N: Bold of you to assume I wouldn’t keep talking to you.

Chris: Knew you were gonna say that.

Y/N: Oh, so you think you know me now?

Chris: I got a pretty good idea, ma. Orange top, Chris girl, clearly got good taste. You’re hyping me up in my DMs before you even met me? Yeah, I think I got you figured out.

You bit your lip, trying to suppress a grin.

Y/N: Okay, okay, maybe I did hype you up a little. But can you blame me? I wasn’t expecting you to actually read them.

Chris: I wasn’t expecting to, either. But here we are, mama.

Your heart was going a mile a minute.

Y/N: And where exactly is ‘here’?

Chris: Me in my hotel room, still awake at 2 AM, talking to you.

Your breath caught in your throat.

Y/N: Should I feel special?

Chris took a second to respond this time. But when he did, it was so worth it.

Chris: Yeah, baby. You should.

・┆✦ʚ♡ɞ✦ ┆・

A/N- I HOPE THIS IS TO YOUR LIKING!!! (:

My beautiful babies- @blushsturns @starrii-sturns @izzylovesmatt @chrisslut04 @jimmasterflashh @oopsiedaisydeer @csturnioloswifey @just-a-girl-1 @sturdyyolo @sturnslvtt @sturnbows @sturniolosrtewsexy @chriss-slutt @franticroads @thecrawlys @ribbonlovergirl

THANK YOU SO MUCH TO THIS BEAUTIFUL GIRL FOR GIVING ME THE IDEA SINCE I DIDNT REALLY KNOW WHAT TO DO FOR THIS REQUEST!!! @oopsiedaisydeer

[sweetbillwriting]

Way Out of Line

TEN

Character: Keith Toshko from Barbarian (2022) played by Bill Skarsgård.

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, heavy themes.

Two Months Later…

Farah stood with her arm around me in the line to check into the hotel in Paris. It was a modest hotel because it was paid for by the university and shouldn't be a too expensive trip. It was organized by the French department, and Farah and I had read the course in French architecture. She knew some French, while I knew it almost as well as English. 

She hugged me because of the tall guy standing in front of us. He wasn't alike Keith at all, more in his height and body shape, but it was still enough for me to feel a stab in my stomach. Farah, who now knew everything about my relationship with him, saw my reaction at once and gave me a comforting side hug. We smiled a little sadly towards each other, and silently I wished to find some sort of distraction from my grief. What I didn't know was that it was on its way over to me just at that moment. 

Ludwig read the course with us, and I had noticed his eyes linger on me many times. Actually, I had seen his other two friends' eyes had done the same thing when we all read the course a year ago. It was uncomfortable and odd to have three boys looking at me like that, and I had chosen to ignore them all; it was easiest that way, but now Ludwig came up to me alone with a big smile, and with boyish charm he said hello. 

Farah said hello back for me when she noticed me looking down at the ground awkwardly. He reminded me of my ex, Tim, and I didn't know if I liked it or not. I couldn't put my finger on what made me think about Tim, but it was something with his way of moving his lips when he talked and the wrinkle between his eyebrows. He wasn't like Keith at all; maybe some guys could look like him from behind, but his face was too beautiful to even compare with someone else. My heart did a sigh before I gave Ludwig my full attention. 

“I kind of had a feeling you would be here,” Ludwig said to me with a little smirk and crossed his arms. 

“Really?” I tried to smile my sweetest smile but swallowed hard when I felt my cheeks ache. 

“Yeah, you've always seemed good at… culture.” Ludwig laughed, embarrassed. Farah looked at us a bit amused and gave me a sign with a finger that she would go up to the reception to get our key to the room. I gave her a fast smile but then turned to Ludwig again, even if I had felt better with Farah by my side. 

“Maybe we can have a coffee tomorrow or something? After that tour?” 

For a short second I tried to imagine myself kissing him, him sleeping in my bed, and even having him between my legs. It wasn't easy. If Ludwig knew what guy I had been with a couple months ago, he would probably even understand me. 

“Sure, sure…” Awkwardly, I nodded a bit too many times and gave him a small smile. My uncomfortable ways could be interpreted as blushing interest, so Ludwig just smiled like he had won the lottery. 

“Can I get your number? Then we can decide something?” 

I licked my lips while he pulled up his phone and gave it to me. My heart wanted me to write the wrong number, but I let my head decide this time and gave Ludwig the right one. He was cute, seemed like a good guy, and was in my own age. It was a smart move in my attempt to get over Keith. 

××× 

“Maybe you just need another dick?” Said Farah when we were in our room. She smirked when she saw me cringe. She really liked making me embarrassed, and even if Keith taught me some things, I was still uncomfortable talking so casually about sex. I shrugged my shoulders. 

“Okay, Ludwig is probably not as big—” 

“Farah.” 

I looked at her seriously. I didn't want to talk about Keith. Especially not in that way. It was an old chapter. 

“Sorry,” she said regretfully and made an uncomfortable grimace. 

“I'll have that coffee with Ludwig, not as something serious but to get someone else to… think about.” 

Farah nodded while we put up our clothes in the wardrobe. 

I was unsure I would find someone else to think about. And Ludwig? He played ice hockey and had too much product in his blonde hair. I had gotten used to a musician, a creative, with that perfectly messy, slicked-back hair and a stubbly top lip. Many times during my months without him, I had thought about calling him, telling him everything my mom had said about him, and forcing him to deny it all, but I didn't have anything to win on that. I wouldn't be able to be with him anyway because then my mom would tell his wife about our relationship. I had asked my dad carefully about Keith's divorce a couple of times when my mom didn't hear and knew it wasn't solved yet. It had just become uglier when his wife searched everywhere for a mistress or hidden assets. If my mom just said even one little thing to her, it would affect Keith immensely. My dad had told me his cousins would force him to sell his part of the company to them so his wife could just take his money. It was suddenly obvious Keith was an only child and the others were his cousins, not seeing him as important as each other. Even if everything about him my mom had told me about him was a lie, it would never happen. Never ever. 

“Hello? Are you listening?” Said Farah, shaking my arm lightly. I had gotten stuck with a floral dress between my fingers, thinking about Keith. I looked up at her, not realizing how sad I looked because she sighed sadly and gave me a hug. 

“I'm sure you will find a great guy. Give Ludwig a chance. He might surprise you.”

××× 

I listened to Ludwig talking about his architectural studies. Opposite of me, he actually studied to become something, not just attend loose subjects. In front of me lay a big bouquet with pink roses. It was sweet of him to actually make an effort and had softened me a bit. 

“But what do you want to do after college?” He asked with a bright smile and took a sip of his coffee au lait. We sat in one of Paris' many cafes’ outdoor seatings with the sun in our eyes and a light breeze playing with our hair. Ludwig didn't move though, while my long hair flew in waves around my shoulders and chest. I could see Ludwig look at me dreamingly when my hair moved sensually around me. 

“Ehm… I think, translator?” 

“Oh, but the drama? I thought you would be an actress?” 

Once again I could hear Keith's voice from my chest; this time it was every time he had called me an actress. He said playfully, like he wanted to make me blush, but there wasn't anything surprising in that; he always wanted to make me blush. 

“Jaqueline?” 

“Hm?” I looked at Ludwig, confused, until I realized I was the one who hadn't answered him. 

“Oh… I don't know. It's hard work, and it demands a lot from you. I don't know.” I shrugged my shoulders. I hadn't thought about my eventual career much the last time. Ludwig still smiled at me even if I was the worst date. I smiled back at him and looked into his blue eyes. He felt like a genuinely good guy. 

“Can't we take a walk?” I asked and took my small white handbag that stood on the picnic table. I smiled sweetly at him, and he nodded eagerly. It was obvious he liked me more than I liked him. 

We walked through Paris' dreamy small alleys and big squares and looked at gorgeous buildings and sculptures. We talked lightly about everything, and I could see how people looked at us with a smile. We looked like the perfect young, middle-class couple, and when for the sixth or seventh time it happened, I took his hand in mine. A big smile spread on his face, and I smiled back. It wasn't hard at all to do such a thing with him. Not at all like with Keith, where I had been nervous and blushy just to look him in the eyes. It was just as easy to kiss Ludwig in the hotel lobby before saying goodbye to him. I wondered if maybe Keith had made me more brave by challenging me sexually or if this was how it should be. If everything with Keith was unhealthy and weird. Maybe I shouldn't have felt such intense feelings around him.

The only thing I knew was that I had actually liked kissing Ludwig and looked forward to seeing him again. 

××× 

It was a bit hard for us to have somewhere to be alone. I shared a room with Farah while Ludwig shared his with his friend Dan. After a week of seeing each other in public, the natural step was to see each other alone. I couldn't say that I looked forward to having more privacy with him. It felt more like a thing I needed to get over. Even sex felt like such a thing. Farah probably was right in that I needed to sleep with someone else to get over Keith, so she and I had created a plan for me, and sleeping with Ludwig was the goal for the week. That's why she also accepted to live with two other girls for a night so Ludwig could mount me. Her only demand was that I would make the hotel staff change the sheets after. 

Ludwig and I lay close together on top of the sheets with our clothes on. We had shared some innocent kisses while his hand lay awkwardly on my shoulder like he didn't dare to touch me anywhere else. I tried to not think about Keith, but it was hard when I knew how good kisses could feel and how his hands had moved confidently and caressed my skin. He didn't have a problem holding my cheeks while he kissed me deep, dragging his fingers sensually over my back or even spanking my ass so it burned. I tried to remember that Keith was seventeen years older than Ludwig and probably quite much more experienced, but it wasn't worth much when I could feel Ludwig's hand move like a dead fish over my naked thigh. When I gave his hand a look, he interpreted it as me being offended and pulled it away, but I was frustrated. I wanted to sleep with a guy who would make me forget Keith, but it would be impossible with someone as awkward and nervous as Ludwig. I needed a man who could take control, own my body, and call me baby girl. Still, I continued to kiss Ludwig and hoped he would take the next step. With sweaty fingers he opened the zipper on the back of my lilac dress but then let me push it down so he could see my naked chest. He stared at my breasts a long time before he laid a hand over one. It really felt like I was with Tim again, just that I wasn't nervous now. 

“Can I turn the light off?” I asked, sounding bored. I didn’t mean to, but I didn't really care either. He was a guy; he would sleep with me anyway, and I knew then that it was the only thing I wanted from him. I needed someone older. This was just embarrassing. The blind leading the blind. I needed a man. 

“Sure, okay,” said Ludwig after a pause, but he also sounded relieved. Clearly, he didn't like to be observed either. 

His kisses were too wet, too much tongue. His touch was fumbling and without purpose. His body was… I knew his body actually was good. He wasn't that short; he was fit, and he smelled of minty soap, but it was still wrong. Everything was wrong. 

He didn't even try to keep himself up a bit when he lay on top of me. He just lay there, like a toad, with his whole weight pushing me down on the mattress. He didn't get why I moved uncomfortably under him. I did because he had locked my hips under him in a painful position. It was just too much. 

“Stop! Just… move!” I said angrily and pushed him. Ludwig moved but looked a bit irritated. His erection strained against his white boxers. Even there he couldn't compare with Keith. I covered myself with the cover and looked at him apologetically, mostly because it felt like I should when he looked so irritated. 

“Can't we just sleep?” I asked with a small voice. That voice would have always worked on Keith, always making me get what I wanted from him, but Ludwig wasn't as impressed. He sighed, irritated, and stood up, like I had promised him my body. Even if I felt offended when he dressed, humiliated that he didn't want to stay if he didn't get sex, I tried to remember that he was young. He might never even have had a serious sexual relationship at all. Never understanding sex was more than just penetration. I needed to feel something more; I knew that now. 

Ludwig took his phone from the nightstand and gave me a shoulder shrug. 

“Maybe we can see each other tomorrow?” 

I nodded even if I knew I didn't want that. It was already destroyed. 

He walked out from my hotel room and closed the door carefully. At the exact same time he closed it, my phone screen lit up, like the sound woke it up. I looked at it expecting a message from Farah, but instead it was the number I had seen in my head over and over for two months. 

The number ending at 78. Keith's. 

××× 

I miss you so much. I don't know how to survive anymore. 

His message said it all. It said everything he needed to say. I didn't really need more to know what he felt. My chest glowed with both warm feelings and anxiety. I wanted him so badly; I wanted him to pour all those feelings on me, but believing his feelings was not the hard bit. The hard bit was everything around us. Whatever I wanted it to be, it was an affair, and his divorce seemed to be as messy as a soap opera. My mom, threatening to expose us. His porn addiction, the question of if he would get tired of me when I couldn’t please his fetish anymore, or when a woman more like him would strut into his life.

But here were his feelings. Black on white. Nothing complicated. He wouldn't write that if it weren't what he felt. Then he would have let it be, found another young girl, maybe even younger. 

A new message landed on my screen from the same number. 

I love you. 

-

I love you too. 

I loved him with my whole heart. I didn't care about the other things. I could be his mistress for the rest of my life. He didn't just own my body but also my heart. 

×××

Both of us giggled into the phone. Heavy tears run down my blushing cheeks. I wasn’t sure if he cried, but it actually sounded like that; I could hear him snort with his nose. 

“But Paris? Shit, I thought it would be easy for me to meet you up and catch you in my arms forever!” 

I giggled again at his cheesy comment, but I loved it. 

“Then I would lock you into the basement. I have a little creepy room down there.” 

As I laughed I asked if he had his own place now. 

“Yeah, I got the house back. For now it seems like I will win this. May will get a sum…” 

He sounded a bit uncomfortable talking about his divorce, so I decided to leave May in the dark. 

“And the house has a creepy basement?” 

Keith laughed. 

“Yeah, total Fritzl feeling!” 

“Keith! That's not funny!” But still I laughed. 

“Okay, okay… But when will you get home? Can I come get you at the airport? You can stay with me for a while?” 

For a short second I saw my mom sitting on the sundeck in her puffer jacket, and I thought about her threat. 

“It's two more weeks.” 

“Two weeks? What the fuck… Paris isn't that nice,” he said with humor but then sighed. 

“I'm sorry…” 

I felt stupid for being in Paris, even if I hadn't promised him anything, but could also feel my own heart sigh. I needed him now. 

“Can I come?” He asked after a moment of silence. 

“Hm?” 

“Can I come to Paris?” 

I was quiet, not because I didn't want him there, but because I was stunned he actually said that. 

“But… can you?” I asked because it was a lot to take in. No one could just come to Paris like that. 

“I’ll take the jet.” 

“The jet?” I didn't understand the word because no one had actually used that word seriously with me before. 

“It's not mine; it's my cousin's, but he probably just wants me to go away anyway,” he joked, but I still didn't understand. 

“The jet?” 

“Yeah,” Keith laughed. “A private plane.” Now I laughed too because I understood what he meant. 

“You're insane!” 

“Yeah, totally. But fuck it, Paris is just some hours away. Can I come?” 

In my happiness I kicked my legs and made a little scream. 

“Yes! Yes, yes, yes!” 

Keith laughed.

“Oh fuck, I've missed those sounds…” 

××× 

Farah was dressed in an oversize hoodie I suspected was her father's with baby blue pajama pants, while I was dressed in a matching Snoopy pajama with short shorts under my white coat. We stood alone in the elevator after I had gone to get her in our friend's room. There wasn't any reason for her to stay there when Ludwig left, but I also desperately needed to talk with someone. Keith was on his way, already packing so he could be with me the next night. 

“What happened? Did he come too fast or something?” Farah asked with a smirk. I just thought about Keith and didn't understand at all until I realized she was talking about Ludwig. 

“Oh. Yeah, he got kinda irritated because I didn't feel like sleeping with him.” I said it bluntly, but Farah made a face with big eyes. 

“I didn't think he was that guy! But I thought you wanted to sleep with him?” 

“No, it didn't feel good at the moment. But that isn’t what I wanted to talk about.” 

“Okay?” The elevator door opened while Farah waited for an answer, so I held the suspense until we were in our room again. The sheets weren't changed, but Farah didn't say anything about it. She continued to look at me confused, especially when my face broke out in a big smile and I covered glowing cheeks with my hands. 

“Jaqueline? Come on! Talk!” She said it a bit annoyed, even if she smiled because I did. 

“Keith is coming…!” I whispered, but in such an excited way it could just as easily have been a scream. 

“Here? To Paris?” Farah looked confused and sat down on the bed, even if I had shared it with Ludwig just hours ago. 

“Yes! He’s taking his cousin's jet plane and will be here as soon as he can!” I almost jumped up and down, too high on my emotions to see Farah’s smile fall. She didn't look amused at all. 

“Is that the reason you didn't give Ludwig a chance?” 

“No, no. Keith messaged me after. It was damn luck I didn't sleep with Ludwig before Keith came here. I would have died of a bad conscience!” I sat down by my suitcase, where my lingerie was still lying, and looked through to see if I had brought something cute to wear when I would meet Keith again; otherwise, I needed to do an emergency visit to Agent Provocateur the next day. 

“Why,” Farah scoffed. “He had probably slept with several during this time.” 

I looked up at her hurt where she sat with crossed arms. 

“Why do you say that?” 

“Don't be so fucking naive, Jaqueline! He slept with you, his friend's daughter! Of course he has slept with others. I'm sorry, but you said it yourself. He likes younger women; he has a fucking daddy kink; he likes licking your ass-” 

“Stop!” I stood up with angry tears in my eyes. “I told you that in confidence! Not as something you should throw in my face later!” 

Farah sighed and dragged her hands through her hair. 

“I'm sorry… I'm sorry, but… Christ, Jacqueline, he's like forty years old. He's a porn addict. He will hurt you. Maybe he's here because he believes he has feelings for you, but I think he's just here to finish what he started. A dildo and lube? He's using you for sex, and now he wants to give it to you in the ass! Men aren't more complex than that.” 

I wiped away my tears while I shook my head. 

“He has feelings for me…”

Farah looked at me with pity, then she crawled down on her side of the bed. 

“I haven't changed the sheets, you know…” I said, continuing to wipe away tears. 

“I'm too tired to care. Come to bed now. I'm sorry for being so honest… I might be wrong, okay?” she said, giving me a sympathetic look. I sighed and wiped away the tears again but then crawled down next to her and turned the light off. 

“He loves me,” I said after a while in silence and the darkness surrounding us. 

“If you say so, Bunny.” 

×××  

I could feel Ludwig's eyes on me when Farah and I sat together with some of our other friends eating breakfast in the hotel's big dining area. Me and Farah hadn't said much to each other that morning, even if I texted with Keith and wanted someone to talk about it all with. I really wanted her opinions, as long as they weren't too harsh, but I could also see it was hard to know where the line was, especially if she doubted Keith's sincerity. 

Keith had sent me several sweet messages: how much he looked forward to seeing me, that he missed me, and what we would do when he had arrived in Paris. He hadn't written anything dirty at all, and I wanted to tell Farah that, but something told me she wasn't interested in knowing. Instead, it was she who waved to Ludwig and made him come over to us. I looked at her angrily while she gave my hand a pat. 

“Give him a chance,” she whispered. I swallowed hard before I said hello to Ludwig, who stood at the end of the table where Farah and I sat on each side. He looked handsome in a lilac button down shirt, similar in color to the dress I wore the day before, and a pair of beige chinos. 

“Do you have any plans for today?” He asked after our awkward hellos. I had the plan to make myself ready for Keith's arrival the whole day: fix my nails, style my hair, buy some new panties, shave every part of me, and plan every outfit.

“No,” said Farah, and I gave her a look because I thought she would get that I would want to prepare for Keith. 

“Will you go on the tour about the restoration of Notre Dame?” He asked, looking at me. I looked at him with split feelings. I really wanted to go on that tour, and it was the one tour I had looked forward to the most, but I also cringed at the thought of not being baby smooth under Keith's hands. 

“Oh, was that today? I've really looked forward to that one!” Farah looked towards me because she knew I had too. 

“Nice, so you will go?” Ludwig directed the question mostly to me even if the answers came from Farah. 

“Totally! Right, Jaqueline?” Farah looked at me with a bright smile, just like Ludwig did. I looked at them both with a strained smile. 

“I don't know; I have some things to do…” 

I met Ludwig's disappointed eyes, but he smiled and nodded in a polite way. I could feel that Farah looked at me in another way, but I didn't even turn to look at her; I didn't have the need to see her tired eyes. 

××× 

I was nervous. Stupidly, insanely nervous. The clock was 8 pm, and I waited for Keith outside of our little hotel in the rougher part of Paris. I could see people, especially men, look at me where I stood in my thin white dress and golden heels. I normally didn't use heels because I couldn't walk in them for a long time, but going in and out of the elevator wasn't a problem. I had fixed myself to perfection and done my eye make-up darker and more smoky than he was used to now that my mom wasn't around. I felt pretty, sexy even, and so ready to see my prince charming again. Even if he wasn't the typical prince charming. In a Disney movie he would probably get the role as the villain more than the prince, but it was also what I liked about him. He wasn't as bland as Ludwig; he had something darker over him that breathed of sex and mischief. 

I saw the taxi car coming towards me and stopped in front of me. I held my breath in waiting for him to climb out of the taxi. When he opened the door and climbed out on long denim-dressed legs, I realized it was the same old Keith I was used to. I didn't know what I had expected, but I breathed out in relief, and in pure luck I threw myself around his neck. Keith. Keith Toshko. My Keith. My D… Yeah, you know what I called him. I wouldn't stop using that nickname because it was imprinted in my brain in ink. 

Keith laughed and lifted me from the ground, so I laughed too. 

“Aw, baby, baby girl… Baby…” He said lowly and put me down on the ground so he could take my face in his hands and look me deep in the eyes. “Fuck, honey… I've missed you so much.” 

I giggled with a blush and stood up on my toes to show him I wanted to kiss. He gave me just what I wanted, that sort of kiss Ludwig would never be able to give me. It was soft but deep. Determined but sweet. A perfect kiss in the City of Love. I looked at him with big eyes and laid my cheek in his hand like I wanted to lay there for the rest of my life. 

“I love you so much…” I whispered and kissed his palm. Keith smiled warmly, and I could see a light shine in his eyes that made my own eyes tear up even more than his. 

“I love you too, Jaqueline… And I'm sorry if I ever made you doubt that…” 

Keith looked down at the ground, and I could see that my big man might break down in tears. I didn't want him to feel sadness or remorse at that moment, so to stop him from crying, I stood up on my toes so I could kiss his beautiful face over and over until he laughed at my silly behavior. 

We didn't notice the taxi driver putting down Keith's luggage next to us or that he asked for payment over and over from Keith. He needed to give Keith a clap on the shoulder for us to stop laughing together. Both of us looked at the chauffeur, and in French he asked for payment. Keith looked confused, and was ready to say something to him in English, but I took over, even pulling up Keith's wallet from his back pocket so he would pay him quickly and easily. Keith smirked at me when I dug in his wallet, but I tried to conceal my smile, wanting to play cool. When we finally were alone, I stretched out my hand with his wallet. 

“Oh, you can put it down where you found it,” said he with a smirk, and with a similar face, I laid my arms around his waist and then stretched down my hand with the wallet to his jeans pocket. While standing so close to him, Keith took the moment to lay his arms around me, then lift me up so my dress probably rode up and gave the drivers of Paris more to see than they had expected. I just laughed and laid my hands on Keith's smooth cheeks. 

“I caught you now. And I will never let you go,” said he with a playful voice.

×

[deceit-and-knowledge]

Ooc: At this rate I should be making a fic BUT I am neglecting my other fic due to lack of motivation so- maybe later- but unprompted conversation between sage and smilk

Hey who said this JUST had to be ask responses im a writer too as well as artist 😏

f: *peacefully reading under a moon lit window, his starry yet milky hair flowing peacefully as small droplets of what could be either milk or yoghurt flow off the tip, seemingly disappearing not long after. The cold air of the library passing through the air as he sits*

*sighs* ...a full moon, what a lovely night.. the stars so ever beautiful like specks of glitter. Reminds me of simpler times...haha.. *huffs* ...*sits up* I geuss I should head off to bed.. pure vanilla cookie has been hammering me about not sleeping..

*door creaks*

..hm?

*tilts head*

Who is it?

...

Hm. Must've been the win-

s: sage.

f: huh- shadow milk cookie? What are you doing out of bed, shouldn't you be resting?

s: I could say the same thing for you, it's 3 am....

f: I was just about to head off!

s: well sorry pal not yet..

f: huh?

s: sit back down *weakly takes the book off sage, putting it back not long after*

f: ..shadow milk cookie, you're injured..

s: yeah because your new little friend takes his issue out on others that aren't the blame for his issues.. but that's not the point, I'm just angry I'm weaker than usual..

*shadow milk turns to sage approaching him , the shadows of the dark room and his dimly lit piercing blue eyes glaring through the darkness, his face only illuminated by the soft glow of his souljam placed placed with poor haste onto his chest, just below his neck. His body covered in bandages, marks and jammy scars. He places his hands on sages shoulders as he is sat on the same bay window seat he was reading on*

what's this whole drabble about you thinking you'll be happier as a monster? Aka be like me?

f: ...

How do you..

s: I READ YOUR DIARY YOU IMBECILE!

f: w-what!? ... you're not jealous are you..

s: what- NO? are you deaf?? I'm ASKING why you'd want to ever be like me..

You won't be happier as a beast. You'll just be some lonely freak.. you'll have no one and it'll drive you insane! That's EXACTLY what happened to me, I lucked out with an other half that cares but there's a chance you won't be as lucky.. so why hope!?

f: ...

s: be. You. Please.. let one of us have a happier ending.. you don't want to be a beast and don't ever call yourself as such..

f: ..shadow milk cookie..why..are you being like this?

s: you're acting like me....me before this.. please..stop it. This isn't healthy.

you and the recluse can help one of another and you better agree to it because I don't want to deal with another painful reminder of my own failures..

f: ..i..im sorry..

s: apologise to yourself for even getting yourself in a such a state.. ugh.. anyway.. that's all I wanted to say.. night.

f: ...wait..

s: what..

f: .......nothing...

Night..

s: ...ugh.. you're welcome.

f: huh..

s: I know you noticed I'm being nice to you.. DON'T tell anyone that I am, I still don't like you.

This is the LAST we talk like this you nerd.. I DO NOT care about you. I just don't want to stand by while you crumble away like a fool..

*shadow milk slinks out the door, he's noticeably not floating, he must be too tired or weak to. His walk heavily accompanied by a limp that seems to be less from the injures he endured from the fight with the recluse but more already existing inability to walk. An audible thump can be heard from the hall just outside of the library door*

*sage allows him a genuine soft smile, his eyes slightly shining from the mere thought of a cookie that treated him so cruely as of late is showing him kindness out of sincere worry*

[yuukei-yikes]

yuukei quartet nightmare blunt rotation

i think theyd have a great time. except shintaro but who cares

[capyclub]

.

[tittysuckersworld]

just askin, hypothetically, what if i did make an alternate au + animatic of mizu 6 being angst and ena 5 not happening the same way.....

[plainclothesdisaster]

DPxDC Mechanical Engineer Danny

Danny caught the attention of Batman while studying at Gotham University for his alternative energy projects. He’s hired right out of college to work on the Watchtower.

He shows absolutely no tell of his abilities till there’s a dire situation- Flash’s electric discharge messes with one of his projects in progress and the whole base would have lost air pressure if he hadn’t done a quick fix using telekinesis and ice.

Of course Batman notices.

Batman assumes the worst- he suspects Danny’s a rogue of some kind, someone who has infiltrated the Justice League with an ulterior motive. But he can’t just fire Danny now- he’s the only one who knows how the new Watchtower energy source works. Plus, he’s not letting Danny go anywhere until he’s figured out his true motives.

Cue Batman subtly testing Danny- tossing things at him to trigger inhuman fast reflexes, having him lift too-heavy machinery, setting up convenient opportunities to steal or snoop or otherwise be up to no good. Danny does take advantage but only once, to use a computer terminal with unlocked clearance. He didn’t plant any bugs that Barman could find, and he otherwise kept up his powerless civilian act perfectly.

Still, Batman’s not satisfied. He brings an infrasonic sound emitter to Danny’s lab one day, and that, of all things, is what gets Danny to break.

“I know what you’re doing,” Danny admits with a sigh, finally. “If you’re really that suspicious of me, I can leave, but I kinda like my job so I’d prefer not to. The benefits are insane compared to what’s standard.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure. yeah. How about you turn off the freaking noise generator and we can talk?”

“Hm.” Batman obliges, and he takes the stool next to Danny at his gesture.

“Number one, I’m not a meta. Despite all the data and conclusions you’ve probably drawn otherwise. Number two, I’m on your side. I’m here to work on the base, that’s it. I follow your rules to the letter.”

“The-“

“The classified files I looked at? Yeah that was the one exception. You already know what I looked at, I’m sure, but maybe you haven’t figured out why. It goes back to point one- I may not be a meta, but I am something that organization, the GIW, cares about. I looked at your files on them to sus out your relations. Seeing as I don’t particularly love being the victim to twelve degrees of human rights violations if I can avoid it.”

“Hm.” The Ghost Intelligence Ward was one of many government agencies that the Justice League hadn’t worked closely with. But they also hadn’t been flagged for Justice League investigation. Danny’s comments made him doubt that call.

“Any other questions?”

“If you’re not a meta, what are you?”

“I’m an engineer. A pretty decent one. And I’d really, really like it to stay that way.”

Batman considers, and ultimately lets him stay. He likes Danny (everyone likes Danny), and it would be a massive pain in the ass to replace him. He really is a good engineer.

It’s only much later that his faith in Danny is repaid in spades.

Batman finds Danny on the Watchtower command bridge. Alarms are blaring, the station has been knocked out of orbit, out the window there’s shrapnel floating everywhere as a space battle rages around them.

On the station it’s chaos. Technicians run around, shouts from the med bay, sparks from the walls.

Batman and Danny stand at the main controls, watching the battle outside, stoic, unmoving.

Wonder Woman’s harried voice crackles through on coms: “We need backup.”

“There is no more backup.” Batman replies, while looking pointedly at Danny.

“What?”

Batman doesn’t move.

“What.”

“The impact from Darkseid’s initial attack should have sent this station on a terminal trajectory toward the planet.”

“Well. We aren’t currently plummeting to our deaths, so turns out it didn’t do that.”

“You did something.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’re lying.”

“Maybe Superman nudged us back on course in all the chaos.”

“I’ve been watching the trackers. No one else with the capability has come near the station.”

“Can’t you just be grateful we got lucky?”

Sounds of peril screech over the coms. Danny’s face scrunches.

“Luck had nothing to do with it. As it is now, we are going to lose this fight.”

“Isn’t there anyone else you can call?”

“I’m asking you. You can help, can’t you?”

The glare-off lasts a long moment more before Danny breaks.

“Fuck. Fuckity fuck.” Danny runs his hands through his hair. “Shit. You don’t know what you’re asking.”

“I’m asking you to save this and countless other worlds from a genocide. I’m also asking you to save my friends.”

Danny looks at him, hard, weary, and with a kind of deep resolve that feels far too ancient to be on the face of a supposed twenty-something.

“Fine. Fine. Okay.” He steps back and transforms. If Batman is surprised when he shakes off his human appearance like an old coat, he doesn’t show it. But what’s undeniable is the being in Danny’s place has the unmistakable presence of power.

“No one else can know.” His voice echoes in a way that’s sonically impossible, both sounding closer and further away than he should be.

He pulls a gear-shaped medallion seemingly out of thin air and puts it over his head in one motion.

“If I get in trouble for this, I’m blaming you.”

He vanishes. Outside, the shape of the battle changes instantly. The stars seem to glow brighter as the arms of the galaxy flash with the colors of the aurora. Then it’s like the void of space itself comes alive. It moves the spaceships back like they’re toys, plucking them from one side of the field to the other. It finds Darkseid at the heart of the chaos and massive arms of nothingness and darkness wrap around him. He’s screaming as it swallows him whole.

His armies scatter. The battle turns. The JL deal with the stragglers, but the air of relief is palpable.

Danny reappears next to Batman, once again donning his grease-stained coveralls. Arms folded.

“Happy?”

It took all of five minutes. Less, probably. Batman tamps down a thousand questions.

“Thank you.”

“I’m gonna need two weeks off minimum.” Danny snaps. “One to deal with the bureaucratic nightmare you’ve just caused me, and another to recover from the headache.”

Batman blanks. “Granted.”

Danny sighs. “And I’m not fixing the station until I’m back. It won’t fall out of the sky as is. Make up whatever excuse you want.”

“Done.” He considers. “I would prefer to tell them the truth. That you saved us.”

Danny glares. “I’m not supposed to save you. I made a pact not to use my power to influence the mortal realm.”

“A pact with who?”

Danny rolls his eyes. “The embodiment of Time. The concept of Justice. Among others.” He smirks at Batman’s confusion.

“And what, exactly, does that make you?”

He stands, framed by the space window, haloed by the stars. “I’ll give you three guesses.”

Batman frowns.

“Look. I like you guys. I like working on your base. I like supporting the work you do. But you can not go factoring me in to any of your plans or contingencies. This was a one time thing.

“So to answer your question again: I’m an engineer.”

[nighttimealone]

Cw: Nsfw (gym owner+ your personal trainer Simon)

Simon notices you the moment you step into the gym. nervous, pretty, looked entirely out of place. He greets you with a nod and a gruff “Hello” when you saunter to the counter and look up at him timidly. Gleaming doe eyes meeting his and a bit intimidated by his presence.

“I want…want to sign up for the course…” your voice comes out soft and quiet, still a bit scared by the wall of man in front of you. His lips curl upward slightly, though his schedule is pretty tight already, but he doesn’t mind squeezing time out just for a cute and beautiful girl like you.

“The only time I’m free now is 21:00.” Simon said, asking if you’re okay with it, and you agree without a doubt. This is the gym closest to your place, and has the highest rating among others, you don’t mind if the session will start a bit later in the night.

He’s a great personal trainer, like the what the comments say on the internet. He’s meticulous, knows how to effectively improve your stance. You’re not sure if it’s normal for personal trainers to stand this close when you’re squatting, so close that you can feel the heat radiating off him, his breath fanning on the nape of your neck. maybe he just wants to make sure you won’t accidentally hurt yourself, you think to yourself after few sessions with him.

Simon can’t forget the first session, you step into the gym with the sports bra and gym shorts, hair tied into a high bun that shows off your flawless neck, he wonders how smooth it will feel when he runs his fingers along it. His chest touches your rear when you’re lifting weights, “In case your grip slips.” He tells you when he sees the confusion in your eyes. His eyes glued on your hips when you just finished few reps of lying leg curls, ass cheeks so nice and supple, you breathe a bit fast as you keep lying on the training machine, unaware of him try not to form a boner from ogling at your moist lips and the contours of your body.

You’re a bit frustrated with the progress you made so far, asking him if you’re not working hard enough. Your slight pout is too adorable, and he resists the urge not to swipe his thumb over your bottom lip. “You’re doing alright, give your body some time to build muscles.” Simon reassures you, but he can still see the chagrin on your face. You’re stressed out, he can tell, and as your personal trainer, it’s his job to help his student unwind, yeah?

The disappointment and anxiety are thrown to the back of your mind when he sits on the bench in front of the mirror, two fingers deep inside you, twirling and pressing the gooey spots with you moaning on his lap.

“Look at the mirror, sweetheart, look how beautiful you look when your little pussy’s swallowing my fingers.” His other hand move to your chin, turn your head towards the mirror. You can see his smug smile even with that disposable mask on, his fingers shoved deep into your cunt, bring out your profuse juices when he drags his fingers out. The scene is too embarrassing, your cheeks flush with arousal and shyness when you shift your gaze away from the mirror.

“Look at the mirror, love.” His tongue clicks twice, tone firm without any space for you to reject, so you obediently look back, let out a high-pitched sweet whine as you watch how his cock sinks into your tight cunt, pussy lips pushed aside to fit his fat cock. “Fucking pussy so tight, so perfect…fuck…” He inhales deeply, landing a soft swat on your bum and makes you yelp at the comfortable sting.

He definitely didn’t choose to schedule your session this late, that no one will be in gym except you two, so he can bend you over every surfaces here and fuck you till you squirt all over the nearest wall. His hips never cease, shows you how much stamina and strength he has as the best personal trainer. Pinning you over the machine you did lying leg curls, the angle of the it allows your ass to arch up and let him drive his pierced cock deeper, each piercings knead and glide through your spots one by one every time he slams his hips back.

When your thighs’ twitching even harder than they were after your leg days, you looking up at him with dazed eyes, entirely blissed out from how many mind blowing orgasms he gave you, Simon lifts you up again, easily maneuver you to hook your knees over his elbows, he pushes his cum-drenched dick inside again, still rock hard and ready to wrench yet another release from your heavenly cunny. He walks you to the mirror again, every steps makes his hips bucks and cock thrust up in the force, and all you can do is moan and whimper. “too much, too much Simon…”

But He only huffs out a laughter at your words while he stops in front of the mirror, giving you the full view to the reflection—your fucked dumb expression, thighs spread widely and supported by his strong arms, pussy swollen and clit peaks out from the folds, yet your tight walls still massaging his cock nicely as if you’re trying to please him.

“So perfect, princess. look just right when you’re in my arms.” Simon presses a kiss to your shoulder, adjust his grip and let your weight help him to reach the deepest, the tip of his shaft rest against your cervix. “Let’s have the next round on the leg press machine, yeah? I know you hate doing leg press the most, maybe you’ll be more pliant the next time, because you know how I’ll make you soak that seat after the session ends, hmm?”

[tqlepatia]

─ SEVIKA × PREGNANT ! READER

- ❝ since i literally killed y'all on that, here i am, making it up :3 ❞

She hates when someone tries to touch your belly.

Sevika barely tolerates strangers on a good day, but now? The first time someone reaches out without asking, you get very uncomfortable, and your wife notices that, of course she does. They nearly get their wrist broken. "You think just ‘cause she’s pregnant, you get to touch her? Fuck off." From then on, she keeps a protective arm around you and in your belly in public, making it very clear that no one is getting too close.

You both name the baby "Isha."

In one of those rare moments, Sevika doesn’t put up a fight over your suggestion. She gazes at you for a brief moment, her eyes welling up, before she nods and manages a soft, understanding smile. "Yeah… that fits." Later on, you notice her quietly crying when she thinks you’re already asleep, and your heart aches for her.

She becomes your personal bodyguard.

Sevika has always been protective, especially now, No one dares to even look at you the wrong way. Whether you’re walking through Zaun or just sitting in a bar, she makes it very clear that you’re under her protection. If anyone so much as bumps into you, they get the death glare and if they don’t back off fast enough, they might end up with bruises. (or dead if she is in a bad mood)

Talks to the baby when you're asleep.

She won’t admit it, but she’s already completely in love with Isha before she’s even born. Late at night, when she thinks you’re sleeping, she rests her hand on your belly and murmurs to her. "You're gonna have the toughest mom, y'know? …Both of ‘em." If you tease her about it, she grumbles and denies it, saying that the "hormones" its messing with your head, but you’ve heard her.

She panics the first time you get morning sickness.

Sevika is used to handling injuries, but seeing you sick? That’s something else entirely. She stands there looking furious and helpless, hands clenched into fists. "What the fuck am I supposed to do? Kill the sickness?" Eventually, she figures out ways to help, holding your hair back, rubbing your back, bringing you water - but she still curses under her breath every time. (and maybe you even see her shaking a little while she helps you)

Refuses to let you lift a thing.

Doesn’t matter if it’s something as small as a book, she’s already taking it from you. "Sit down. I got it." If you try to argue, she just raises an eyebrow and waits for you to give up. At this point, she carries everything, from your groceries to your shoes if you so much as look tired.

She loves you, not your moods swings

When they started, she was starting to think that she was going crazy! The last drop to her was when you insisted that she make a dessert that took almost half of her day, and when it was ready, you weren't hungry anymore, she snapped at you! "FUCKING WOMAN." then, the hormones hit you again, making you cry and she instantly comforts you saying like a broken vinyl sorry, over and over

She insists on making the baby’s room perfect.

You catch her late at night, smoothing a hand over the blankets, adjusting a tiny stuffed toy, the same one she used to love when she was a little kid, making sure everything is just right. she wants this space to be perfect because this is where her kid is going to sleep, safe and sound.

Loses her mind when you go into labor.

She tries to stay calm, really, she does. But the second she hears you groan in pain, cursing even the air, all that composure is gone. She’s barking orders at everyone, pacing, and looking ready to fight time itself if it means getting you through it faster. "What do you mean it takes hours?! The kid’s gotta be ready by now!"

The moment she holds Isha for the first time, she’s done for.

Very Big, calloused hands cradle a tiny, fragile body, and for the first time, Sevika looks completely, utterly undone. She stares down at her daughter like she’s just seen the entire world change. When Isha grabs her finger with the tiniest hand, Sevika actually chokes up, but if you mention it later, she’ll deny it to her grave.

You wake up one night and see her asleep with Isha on her chest.

One of her large hands gently cradles Isha’s back, a tender gesture that radiates warmth and protection. You find yourself captivated by the scene, savoring the beauty of the moment, as it’s one of the most touching things you’ve ever witnessed in your life.

She struggles with feeling worthy.

Some nights, when she thinks you’re asleep, she sits on the edge of the bed and stares at Isha in her crib. The weight of her past lingers in her eyes—like she’s wondering if she deserves this happiness. But then you reach for her, comforting her, kissing her neck while whispering sweet words in her ears, she exhales, letting herself believe (for a few hours) that maybe she does.

Isha’s first word is "fuck."

You wish you could say you were surprised, but with Sevika as a mother, it was only a matter of time. It happens so casually, she drops something, mutters “Fuck,” and Isha, sitting in her little chair, immediately parrots it back in a tiny, triumphant voice.

Sevika freezes. You stare at her. She stares back at you. Then, after a long pause, she sighs and rubs a hand over her face. “Honey, it isn't my fault, okay? She's the one who... repeat it-”

[swytdoll]

(19)virgin!choso has the hots for his older neighbor(35):(

perverted. that’s how he felt as he watched you wash your car, in shorts so tiny they were practically underwear and a white tank top that was so soaked it was see through. the way the fabric clung to your breasts made his mouth water. he had been staring for at least 30 minutes and had gotten to see them from all angles. it was torture, sweet torture. he wanted to take you right then and there in the grass and hear his name on your lips over and over.

you were old enough to be his mom. in fact, he had had you as a teacher back when he was in high school and that made him feel guilty for looking at you like this. but he just couldn't stop. he couldn’t stop himself from fantasizing about being with an older woman, one that knew what she was doing and knew how to use him. you would make him feel like your toy and he wanted that.

you looked up and caught his eyes. he blushed bright red and quickly turned away. maybe if he had kept looking he would have noticed the smirk on your lips.

you were a teacher in more ways than one. you could teach him how to be a good boy and give you the pleasure you deserved. he wanted to sink into the ground when you began to approach him. you were smiling sweetly, but your eyes said something different.

you leaned against the fence separating your property and his, propping up one of your arms on it. you gave him a soft grin and he wanted to die. you’re so pretty to him. glowing eyes framed with thick wispy lashes, pretty plump lips. he can't look away, mesmerized, he watches the way your lips part and the tip of your tongue darts out to wet them. the sight makes his blood run hot and his shorts grow tighter.

"hello mister kamo," you hummed, "where are your parents?"

"i-i'm sorry i-" had he been caught? were you gonna tell on him?

"what's the matter? are you nervous?" you cooed, "i just wanted to say hi to your mom, see if she needed anything for the barbecue later. is she around?"

"she's- um- out. getting groceries," he replied quietly, not daring to meet your eyes.

"oh? and what about your father?"

"he's...working late," choso said. he was sweating and the bulge in his shorts was now painfully obvious. he wanted to die, to disappear from embarrassment. you smiled and let out a giggle.

"are you okay mister kamo? you seem awfully nervous." you’re batting those lashes and he swears he could melt, he clears his throat. "yeah! yeah, i'm fine, totally fine!" he blurted out, "i'll- uh- tell them you said hi."

"okay," you quipped sweetly and began to walk back to your house, "if you need anything, just let me know, okay?"

he nodded, "okay."

his head was spinning and he couldn't think straight. he didn't want to be alone, didn't want to go inside, didn't want to leave and miss seeing you again. he could still smell the strawberry of your shampoo from where he was. it was intoxicating.

"choso," you called out and he snapped out of his daze.

"yes, miss?"

"can you come help me? i dropped my hose and it's really hard to pick up."

"o-okay."

you lead him around the side of your house and he saw the hose was indeed on the ground, the water running. his hands were shaking, but he bent down and picked it up anyway. the moment he stood, you grabbed his hand and placed it right on your chest. he squeaked and tried to pull away, but you held him tight.

"you can touch me," you hummed, "i don't mind. is that why you were watching me? do you like older women?"

"i- uh- well- you- you're-"

"use your words, choso," you chastised him and moved his hand lower, making him rub his fingers over your nipple, "good boys speak when spoken to. did i ever teach you that?"

"y-yes," he whined and his hips bucked into the air. you gave him a wicked smile and pushed him to the ground. he landed on his back, legs sprawled out. his cock was standing up, pressing against his shorts and there was a dark stain where his tip was.

"such a cute little thing," you giggled and knelt down in front of him. you grabbed his legs and pulled them apart before getting between them. he squirmed and you grabbed his hands, pinning them to the ground.

"please," he whimpered.

"please what? be a good boy and tell me what you want," you cooed, pressing his hands into the ground.

"i- um- please...touch me," he whispered.

"like this?" you hummed and reached down to rub his clothed erection. he bucked his hips into your hand and moaned.

"yes, please, miss," he gasped.

"good boy," you purred and kissed him, he was putty. "so good for me."

your hands moved to his hips and he lifted them so you could pull his shorts down. his cock was already leaking and twitching.

"you poor thing, did you get this hard just from looking at me?"

"y-yes, miss," he moaned, "i couldn't stop thinking about you, how pretty you were and how much i wanted you."

"oh, you're such a good boy, telling me exactly what you want," you cooed and gripped his cock, stroking it slowly, "i should give you a reward, hm?"

"please, please, please," he whined, his hips twitching up.

"okay," you replied and leaned forward. you pressed a soft kiss to his tip, smearing the pre-cum on your lips before wrapping them around him. his back arched and he let out a loud moan. he couldn’t believe this, anyone could see him and you. his parents could walk past the fence and catch you sucking off their son. but that was part of the fun. it was forbidden and he loved that.

the sounds of your gurgled chokes as you slurp his cock are like a siren's song to him, the way you so dutifully suckle him to the base and take his entire length in your mouth without a trace of resistance. your jaw is slack as he slides between your lips, his hand gently cradling the back of your head, urging you forward until your nose is pressed into his belly. he's so big that even though your eyes are rolled back, your vision is obscured by the sheer size of his erection. your throat feels like a fleshy sheath for him, your breath forced out in tiny, rapid huffs through your nostrils, and your tongue is pinned.

and you're not just sucking his cock, either. you're swallowing. and every time your esophagus clenches down around the head of his dick, it sends him hurtling closer and closer towards an orgasm that he's determined to wring out of you first. he can feel you starting to struggle for air, but the way you're still obediently sucking his cock even while your lungs burn from a lack of oxygen.

“god," he rumbles, his voice like the sound of boulders shifting together. his grip on the back of your head tightens, and he grinds against your face, your nose and lips mashed up against his skin.

your stomach growls and churns in a desperate plea for nourishment, but the way he fills your throat is a completely different hunger. you can taste his pre-cum, his magic thick and warm and tingling on your tongue, and you suck and swallow with more enthusiasm. even though you're struggling to breathe, the idea of drinking his cum makes you feel like a starving woman given the key to a buffet.

"j-just like that," he praises you, his words coming out in a hiss as you clench down on him, your throat tightening in a futile attempt to keep his cock from pushing so deep into your airway. he whines when you withdraw, a string of saliva connecting you two.

"you taste so good, choso," you murmured, "have you had many girls do this to you?"

"n-no, miss, never," he groaned, "only you."

"and do you want only me to do this to you? do you want me to be the only one that knows how good you taste and how cute you sound?"

"yes! yes, miss! i want it to be only you, please," he babbled. you smirked and kissed his hip.

"well then, i better take good care of my boy, huh?"

"please, please," he whined, pushing his hips toward you.

"okay, i'll make you feel really good, sweetie."

you took his cock back into your mouth, licking at the tip and stroking the rest. his head was spinning and he could hardly breathe. you felt too good, looked too good, sounded too good. your soft lips wrapped around him, sucking and licking, teasing and pleasing. it was too much and yet not enough. his body was on fire, burning and aching.

his knees buckle as your warm hand palms his balls and your tongue traces the veins of his cock. he lets out a whine and grips your hair. you pull off his dick, letting it fall against his stomach. you press a few soft kisses to his tip, watching as his cock twitches.

"miss," he whimpered, "it hurts, please."

"what does, sweetheart?" you asked.

"please, let me cum, miss," he begged.

"already? did i make you that horny?"

"please, miss," he whined and bucked his hips.

"alright," you hummed, taking him back into your mouth.

"thank you," he breathed.

you bobbed your head, taking him as deep as you could. his fingers tightened in your hair and he bucked his hips. your nose pressed against his pelvis and your throat clenched around him.

"i'm close," he moaned, "i can't, fuck, it's so good."

a few more thrusts, and his movements become erratic. you're dizzy from oxygen deprivation, the edges of your vision growing dark, when suddenly his cock twitches inside you, and his hot, sticky cum fills your stomach. there's so much of it that you're actually able to feel yourself swell a little with the volume of his release, and the sensation makes you whimper and whine.

"you did so well," you cooed, crawling up and laying next to him, "was that your first time?"

"yeah. . . s-sorry i finished so quick." he mumbled, cheeks tinted brightly.

"you did so good," you repeated, pressing a kiss to his temple, he felt like he was going to pass out.

“i’ll see you tonight at the barbecue, yeah?”

he nods, fuck, you’re gonna be the death of him.

*peeps around corner* dare i say part 2?

[kenmaspuddinghair]

Honorably discharged partially disabled Simon pt 2

think I'm going to make this a series, this part ends a little angsty though. part one

You've been living with Simon for two weeks now and things have started changing with him. You make all his meals now, you can't stand to see him eating the terrible, small, prepackaged foods every night, you even tried to teach him how to cook which was an even bigger mess than you thought it could be. You wanted to start with something simple so you tried to get him to make spaghetti, everything was fine at first but you left once and when you came back the pasta was on fire and he put the pasta sauce in the microwave which then exploded making a giant mess, so you gave up any hope for him cooking from then on. 

On a happier note though, he’ll eat his food before you now, and he takes his mask fully off at dinner, you've also noticed some mornings he leaves it off for a little longer. He still rarely talks but sometimes you think he asks you things just to hear you talk, you've even noticed him following you around the house, he'll just stand in the doorway staring at you, after a bit he'll either leave or find a place to sit. But imagine your surprise when he decided he was gonna follow you as you run errands, he simply replied “jus’ keepin ya safe” when you tried to object. 

So here you are going down your list getting everything you need with a giant hulking shadow following around, you have to admit though you do feel safer knowing no one will even try coming up to you with Simon glaring at them behind you. Last thing on your list is meat, so you both head over to the butcher shop. You're looking around before Simon pulls you back “wha- Simon what is your problem?” “My problem is this store. Everything is overpriced, half the meat is cut with the grain not against it, and the other half is bad, we're not buying meat from ‘ere” he said plain as can be before walking out expecting you to follow, which you did cause you were still in shock you hadn’t heard him talk that much ever. 

But right as you got to the door an employee called out to you. “Welcome in, how can i help you” you stopped walking and turned around to answer him, but simon cut you off “don’ need your help, all your meats are bad” you immediately tried smoothing out the situation “n-no what he's trying to say is-” but the man behind the counter cut you off “you have no idea what your talking, these meats are the best in town, you know nothing about meat” he said coming around the counter “half ya meat is literally turning brown, worked at a butcher shop for two years, so ya i do know” simon replied getting in between you and the man “are we going have a problem, Simon?” That was the wrong thing to say, Simon immediately jumped forward slicing through the tension as he grabbed the man's collar lifting him off the ground. You were trying to get Simon to let the man down, but Simon wasn’t responding to you. You watched simon lean forward closer to the man “don’ talk to me like that if ya like breethin” 

that was it “simon enough” you pulled him away from the man, who was now flat on the floor, pulling Simon straight to the car. “Simon you can't threaten people, I get you were a lieutenant for years but here you're just a normal person, do you understand?”but when you looked at Simon he didn’t look well. “Simon, are you okay?” “y-yeah, let's go home, ya?” something was off but you just went home knowing he wasn't going to tell you.

Simon was off for the rest of the day, he refused lunch and stayed completely quiet in his room all day, now it’s dinner and he hasn't even picked up his fork “Simon, you need to eat” “price will bring all the meat you need later tonight” “Simon eat” you said plain and firm not letting him distract you, slowly he lifted his shaking hand as he grabbed his fork and tried to eat food but his hand kept shaking worse and worse, immediately you were up and standing by his side “Simon are you okay” you grabbed his hand feeling and examining it, then you felt him gently tug your shirt with his other hand “I can't feel my right side, I-it hurts”

part three