#so it hurts and sucks and sometimes I can only do five minutes at a time and that's okay

[hawkelf]

also next time I work on this I'm going to have to start doing more active reading and sorting so uh thoughts and prayers and well wishes for my mental health on that one I guess yikes

[thargelalia]

Comrade Red Hood

jason todd x fem!reader

patriarchy sucks, thankfully your doting nerdy boyfriend is there to show you support

-> 3k words

-> fluff, hurt/comfort, tiniest bit suggestive

-> warnings: talks of v!olence and crime (c'mon, guys, it's Gotham); mansplaining (not by Jason); reader is a little mean, but she's only human; Jason is a serial kisser and we love that for him

“Are you upset?” 

“Yes.” 

“…is it something I did?” 

“Not everything’s about you.”

Jason’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline as he lets out a low whistle at your sharp words. “Damn. I thought I was supposed to be the broody one here.”

“Getting a taste of your own medicine sometimes is good.”

Silence.

“Sure you’re not mad at me?”

“I’m beginning to.” You let out a deep frustrated sigh, massaging your temples in a futile attempt to stop the incessant throbbing headache. “What do you want, Jason?” 

“I was just—is there anything I can do for you?” He asks, shifting weight between his legs. “You seemed a bit off over the phone earlier, so I decided to drop by.”

“I just want to be alone.” You sound less passive aggressive this time as exhaustion seeps into your words. ”My head is killing me right now, so I just had an aspirin. I’ll be fine.”

“Okay. I’ll be in the living room if you need me.” Since it’s dark and your eyes are glued to the ceiling, you’re unable to take in the dejected look on his face. 

Seeing you’ve got no objections — he kind of hoped you’d change your mind and ask for cuddles — Jason leaves the room wordlessly. It’s almost like he vanishes into thin air. A well-known skill amongst all bat-family members.

Even so, he’s surprisingly light on his feet for a big guy. But then again, we’re talking about a walking deadly weapon. A vicious vigilante. The prince of Gotham. Red Hood.

Or at least that’s what he usually is when he’s not sulking in the living room for being a victim of his girlfriend’s sour mood. 

Aside from the sound of a car or two passing by down below, and police sirens echoing distantly on occasion, your place is engulfed in a comfortable silence — this a relatively quiet neighborhood. Moonlight filters through your half-open curtains, a soft welcoming breeze swaying them gently to the side. 

At some point, your eyes flutter open. You don’t even remember falling asleep. There’s a dryness to your throat, prompting you to move around and reach for a slim water bottle on the nightstand. Next to it, the digital clock reads 2:17 AM. 

A five hour nap. Nice. 

Fortunately, the pounding inside your head has subsided.

Tsking in disappointment, seeing the bottle is empty, you detangle your legs from the sheets, begrudgingly getting up and dragging yourself to the kitchen. 

The lights in the living room are still on, making your eyes squint when you approach the entrance. You’re confused to discover Jason still lounging on the couch with a book in his hands, legs spread deliciously wide. One of his feet is propped against the edge of the coffee table.

“Thought you were still out on patrol.” 

He looks up, and blinks, not expecting to see you up. “Just got back, actually. About fifteen minutes ago or so, I think.”

You hum in response and take a moment to really observe him. 

His hair is still indeed damp as it falls over his forehead. He’s also shirtless, only dressed in gray sweatpants. Took him quite a long time to feel comfortable enough to show skin like this around you. Likewise, despite the smile that your reassurances bring to his face whenever you thank him for ‘blessing your eyes with such a delectable sight’, sometimes he still gets antsy if they linger too long on his scars. So, you try to respect his limits while also making sure he knows he’s incredible and beautiful. 

There are also beads of sweat accumulated on his bare chest and neck. Despite having just showered, his body is still overheated from Red Hood’s intense activities, you notice. 

No injuries in sight tonight, thank goodness. But if there were, though, he probably wouldn’t be here. He’d still rather agonize in pain alone in his apartment than letting his medical resident girlfriend tend to him. You’re still trying to ingrain into his stubborn mind that his health will never be a disturbance to you. He will never be a disturbance to you.

Hm, though he kinda was a little bit earlier before. However, that wasn’t his fault. Nor yours, for that matter.

As if on cue, his question breaks you out of your reverie.

“Feeling better?” You nod in affirmation and he gives a sweet smile. “Good. You should eat, baby. I got you something on my way back. It’s in the kitchen.”

You mirror his smile and resume your steps to the kitchen where there’s a white medium-sized paper bag sitting on the counter. 

Dismantling crime and wreaking havoc around Gotham, just to later on pick up food to appease his moody girlfriend back home. 

Isn’t that so cute? 

After drinking your fill of cool water, you grab the food bag, a plate – to avoid crumbs dirtying the floor – and return to the living room to eat in Jason’s company. He’s still engrossed in his book. Or rather, yours. Your small library is now his, but so is his yours. It’s an unspoken agreement.

“I didn’t know Mr. Abdul’s place stays open so late.” You say thoughtfully, munching on a falafel. Jason also got you a fattoush salad, hummus, and some pita bread. Yummy. 

You’re sitting on opposite ends of the couch, legs on a pillow in his lap, while his forearms rests on top of them. He’s hunched forward in concentration on the pages in front of him.

“It doesn’t.” Without looking, Jason steals one falafel from the bag and pops it into his mouth. “I broke into his kitchen.“

You choke on a piece of pita bread. “What the f-”

“Relax. I left the money on the counter.” 

“Are you fucking kidding me??” He talks about it so casually. Almost like he’s done this before. “Wait. So, the cookies from Elena’s last time…”

“Well, that one’s obvious.” Successfully blocking a pillow chucked at his face, he rushes to defend himself, “BUT I never forget to pay, so technically I’m not stealing! Only billionaires are harmed here, I swear.”

You both know which particular billionaire he has in mind.

“Right. Keep telling yourself that, Robin. Hood.” You scoff, picking up the fattoush salad box, opening its lid and picking through vegetables with a plastic fork. Jason’s mouth opens in surprise. “Pun intended, by the way.” 

“Whatever.” He huffs with an eye roll, trying to conceal his amusement. To make a point, he raises the open book to his face and blocks your view of him, ignoring you completely. 

As you silently chew on radishes and lettuce, you take a minute to inspect what he’s reading. It’s a considerably thick book. Zeroing in the letters of the cover, your eyes widen in shock as you swallow. 

“Jason, is that—you’re reading The Capital?”

“Yeah, why?” He questions back, nonchalantly, lowering the book just past his eyes.  “You think I only read fiction?” 

“I guess… but I only asked because I think it’s an odd choice of reading given your night.” You explain, gathering the empty food containers, placing them inside the paper bag and setting it aside on the coffee table. “Aren’t you supposed to be tired?” 

“Of fighting against oppressive systems? Absolutely.” He quips, a playful smirk on his face. “This guy just gets me, you know?” 

Seeing the unimpressed look on your face, his smile dies down and he places the book down on the armrest. “I got an extra adrenaline rush while chasing Penguin’s goons this time. There were dozens of them ‘cause he was closing an important arms deal at a warehouse tonight.. Remember that time when we were watching a documentary about wolves, and it was showing how packs tend to slaughter entire flocks of sheep when they’re unable to escape from a confined space?”

“Is that your way of telling me you were in a… kill frenzy?” You swallow hard, trying not to sound too alarmed, but the distant look in his eyes accompanied by his eerie tone and word choice is unsettling. Even though you're well aware he doesn’t pose a danger to you.

Jason seldom shares the details about his gruesome Red Hood business with you. One, because he knows you already see too much violent shit while working at the hospital. 

Two, he knows you worry about his safety. 

Three, there’s also the fact that he’d like to keep a sense of normalcy at home. 

Four, and most importantly, he believes it’s best if you don’t access his dark side, but sometimes – like right now – he’s unable to conceal it. At the end of the day, he’s only someone fighting their shadows like any other. 

Although, his are evidently a bit more obscure and jarring. 

There’s a pregnant pause before he finally breaks out of his trance with a shake of his head. Taking in your tense posture and concerned face, he softens his demeanor, reaching for one of your hands. One, two, three kisses delivered to the tip of your fingers and he’s pulling you to sit straddling his legs. Calloused palms start rubbing the top of your thighs in reassurance back and forth. 

“Don’t worry, baby. I didn’t shoot to kill..uh, mostly.” There’s no way of telling if he’s being sincere, and, frankly, you’d rather not think about this. As usual, he’s attuned to your senses, and tries to lighten the conversation up. “Anyways, I was still feeling charged when I got back. That’s why I picked one of your brainy books to help me wind down. Since your Sociology shelf was right in my line of sight, I decided to give it a try… Oh, I just remembered I forgot to bring you my French copy of Madame Bovary again.” 

“Hm, it’s fine. I’ll borrow it next time I’m at your place. But, back to my books. Why do I feel like this isn’t a first time thing? I did find some of my Sociology books misplaced a couple of weeks ago,” you complain. “Glad you’re having fun tackling dialectical materialism as a post-vigilante workout, but please make sure you put my books in order once you’re done.” 

“So bossy.” He playfully tuts, adding a nip to your shoulder. Then you feel his lips trace a slow path up to your neck, leaving a slow deliberate kiss there. “And so pretty, too.”

He smiles mischievously, lips still attached to your skin, as you shudder. 

Devious bastard.

Crossing your arms, you try not to blush and keep your voice steady. “I mean it, Jason.”

“Alright, alright. I’ll mind your precious organization.” He follows his promise with a chaste kiss, this time to your lips. “But seriously, you do look pretty.” 

“What, out of a sudden?” You raise your eyebrows in amusement. 

Jason prides himself in being a skillful liar. It often comes in handy. 

But he most definitely is not the type to give empty compliments. 

Especially not to the most precious person of his life. 

And you’re aware of that. His eyes don’t lie.

There’s that deep candid warmth swirling within those mesmerizing irises that just captures you whole. They remind you of the ocean, colors of a fine line between blue and green, like teal. Sometimes calm and serene, sometimes agitated and raging. 

One thing is sure. You’re the only person who gets to soak into the tranquil waters hidden amidst the windows of his soul. 

Because you’re the only one capable of bringing them out. 

“Nah, I always think that when I see your face.” Comes his reply.

At that, more kisses ensue. Obviously.

First one is yours, molding your lips to his in an instant as you try to return his incessant devotion with eagerness. He wastes no time in reciprocating, mouth slightly parting to welcome your tongue inside. It makes your head fuzzy all over. Every single fucking time. This type of intimacy took almost as long to construct as the display of his body. You’re never taking his trust for granted. Never. Soon enough, Jason discovered himself to be a great fan of kissing. You. He’s done it before with other people, sure, but it didn’t make him feel like this. Yearn like this. As if he depended on it to survive. And he might as well do. Your fingers find their way to his scalp, tangling in silky locks and pulling while trapping his lower lip between your teeth, eliciting a soft groan from him. As a result, he grips your hips harder, drawing you impossibly closer. The heat from his bare muscular chest is scorching, almost too much to bear as it seeps through your shirt – his shirt. 

You two only break apart because he decides to now trail his lips downward, leaving you panting, eyes sealed shut in pleasure, as he works his mouth across every other available patch of your skin. From jaw to neck, and shoulder. And back up.

This time his ministrations are sweeter and more tender, making you melt completely into his embrace. 

Finally sated, after delivering a last kiss behind your ear, he whispers softly and a little breathless, “Wanna share now why you almost bit my head off a few hours ago, hm?” 

Watching your face fall when he pulls back, his heart equally drops, causing him to backtrack, “S’okay, baby. You don’t have to tell me. I’m sorry.”

You exhale shakily, glancing down to fiddle with the hems of your – his – shirt. A hand cups your cheek, and tilts your head upwards carefully, thumb brushing the soft skin back and forth. Molten blue-green irises coaxing you to relax like the gentle sway of the sea. Telling he’s trusty and willing to listen.

“No, it’s just… ugh…” He waits patiently as you gather your thoughts. “I had to deal with one of my stupid professors mansplaining to me during my presentation today. A subject that I’ve been studying for years now. I knew what I was talking about and he acted as if I didn’t, saying that I didn’t use the concepts correctly like I was a child. Some of my colleagues told me I shouldn’t take his words personally, but it fucking sucked. Still does. I hate it when people, especially men, undermine my intelligence. I just felt so frustrated, I went to the bathroom and cried when the presentation ended. And to top it off, I got a miserable headache on the way home. So yeah, that’s why I was in such a shitty mood tonight. I’m sorry I took it out on you…” 

While describing what happened and venting about your feelings, you barely registered the way his arms tensed around you or how a muscle in his jaw ticked. There’s really no mistaking the look on his face now. The dark stormy blue that has replaced the soothing sea green. “Jason, no. Promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”

“He upset you.” Your boyfriend states in a clipped tone. “He made you cry.” 

“No matter how tempting, you can’t just fuck up every single guy that gets on my nerves.”

“I beg to differ.”

“Jace.” You beg, exasperated. “Please. That’s not what I need right now, okay? He was being an asshole, yes, but the academy, and the whole world, is crowded with them unfortunately. Most of the time, I can handle it just fine. But, today was different. I’ve been preparing for my presentation for days, so he caught me by surprise with his arrogance and my anxiety kinda escalated, I guess. What I mean is I didn’t tell you this because I wanted you to avenge me. I just want to be understood. Can’t you do that for me?” The sight of tears filling your wide eyes dilute his outrage instantly. You’re engulfed in a tight comforting hug.

“Of course, baby. I’ll never feel the same as you ‘cause I’m not a woman, but you must know I’m here for you and I’m sorry you had to deal with this.” He offers, sympathetically, before something darker twists his features again. “I won’t lie to you, though. It’d be easy for me to rip that fucking bastard’s tongue—”

“Jason.”

“—and feed it to his mouth until he chokes—”

“Jason.” 

He puts a finger to your mouth to silence you, just to pull back immediately before it gets bitten off.

“—but I won’t do that.” Not today at least, he keeps this last part to himself. “My point is a brilliant woman like you will always be a threat to insecure fuckers like him. Bet he’s just jealous he’ll never shine as bright as you do.”

You throw your arms around his neck, burying your face in it with a sniffle. “I love you.”

“I love you too. A lot.” Nuzzling into your hair, he inhales the soft scent of jasmine shampoo. “Feeling okay?”

“Yes. Thank you.” You really are. But, then, you sigh wistfully. “I’m thinking if I were an Amazon, it’d probably be easier to deal with this type of situation.”

“How so?” He tilts his head, confused.

“You know… I’d be strong, powerful... intimidating. Stuff like that.” 

“You already wield your intellect like the sharpest blade I’ve ever seen. Your words are eloquent and sharp when you stick up for what you believe. Not to mention the way you carry yourself with confidence even when you’re in a room filled with strangers.” He tucks a lock of hair behind your ear, speaking earnestly. “Trust me, sweetheart. You don’t need to be an Amazon when you’re already a goddess.” 

“That’s… wow… I wasn’t expecting that.” The butterflies are throwing a fucking rave in your stomach. You just can’t stop grinning, so you playfully hit his shoulder. “Never knew you could be so sappy.” 

He catches your wrist delicately, not missing the opportunity to turn it and plant his lips on your knuckles.

“That’s all on you. You turned me into this.” He claims, placing your open palm over his heart, and holding it there. It’s beating quite rapidly. Like yours is. “Take responsibility, woman.” 

“Fine,” you concede with a playful eye roll. Guilty as charged, your honor. “But, seriously, thank you. Your words mean a lot.”

“You mean a lot to me. Don’t ever forget that.” One, two, three pecks to his lips. You discover you really love kissing him as well. 

Suddenly, he’s covering his mouth with a yawn. Outside, Gotham’s black heaven is starting to get tinged with pink and yellow, announcing the sun’s impending arrival. Soon the streets around your building will have people going out about their day. Unbeknownst to them, one of the guys responsible for their safety sleeps tucked in your bed right around the corner. 

“We should probably sleep.” Jason begins, effortlessly getting up in a swift motion while still holding onto you. Your legs wrap around his waist as he walks you two to the bedroom. “I already lost way more brain cells than intended. Gotta save some for Mary Wollstonecraft tomorrow.”

“You’re such a dork.”

“And you need to get woke,” he taunts.

“These are my books!” You counter, indignantly. 

“Ours. Don’t be so individualistic, baby. That’s why capitalism—” Not letting him finish, you jump off his arms and go into the bathroom as he trails behind like a lost puppy.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it, comrade Red Hood. Now shut your revolutionary mouth, and let’s get ready for bed.”

thanks for reading, and please reblog if you enjoyed it <33

feel free to share your thoughts, i'd love to hear them!

this is where i got the dividers

[luffington]

love ur fics sm 😄 can i request dom!sanji x reader smut where reader is a strawhat ? i love sub!sanji but there’s suck a lack of dom!sanji in the fandom it pains meee , thank u !!!!

➤ pairing: vinsmoke sanji x afab!reader

➤ word count: 1.8k

➤ warnings: soft dom!sanji, overstimulation, praise kink, oral (f receiving), established relationship, aftercare, fem reader

aww thank you :') i feel the same way!! i wanna step on him as much as the next person but i need a little variety sometimes...

this was honestly kinda hard to write bc sanji would never hurt his partner (especially a fem reader) but pleasure doms exist for a reason! i hope i stayed true to his character and still fulfilled your request <3

NSFW under the break! minors dni thank uuu

The Sunny’s kitchen was filled with the mouth-watering scent of vegetables sautéed with fragrant herbs. A rare fish caught by Brook earlier that day simmered in a pan next to them on the stove. Sanji was completely engrossed in his work, carefully monitoring every component and regularly taste-testing everything. Watching him cook was always fascinating, but you weren’t in the mood that day. You closed the door rather loudly behind you to catch your boyfriend’s attention.

“Hello, my love!” His serious demeanor changed as soon as he saw you. “Are you hungry? Sorry, I should’ve started cooking earlier. Didn’t realize how long this fish took to prepare. Dinner will be ready in ten minutes, can you please tell the rest of the crew?”

Food was the last thing on your mind. You were needy. It had been almost four days since the last time you and Sanji had sex, and not by choice. Some infamous pirate had pissed Luffy off, and your entire crew inevitably ended up in a heated battle with his minions. The two of you were too exhausted by the end for even a quick fuck. As soon as Chopper finished patching up your injuries, you crawled into bed and passed out. 

“Sanji, I’m horny,” you whined.

His face turned almost as red as the blood that trickled from his nose. “...Five. Five minutes.”

He would’ve dropped everything and immediately sprinted to your bed if he had been doing anything else.

Nothing was stopping you from masturbating, of course – nothing except your boyfriend acting like a kicked puppy if he didn’t get to watch. He loved sitting just out of your reach, jerking himself off and watching you touch yourself. Sometimes he gave you instructions. Sanji wanted every ounce of your pleasure to be inseparable from him.

So he suffered through dinner, impatiently tapping his foot and barely participating in the conversation, glancing at you every five seconds. The moment everyone finished eating, he flew out the door with you stumbling behind. Nami and Robin knew to stay far away from the women’s quarters for the next few hours.

Sanji was a menace in the bedroom – in his own gentlemanly way. He would never lay a hand on you that wasn’t filled with love. Nothing in the world could convince him to degrade, restrain, or discipline you, even if you asked for it. He lived to serve and care for others, and he went above and beyond for you. Not satisfied until pleasure burned through you like a cigarette and you were absolutely blissed out, mumbling his name over and over like a prayer.

As soon as you were alone with the door securely locked behind you, the blonde climbed on top of you and kissed you passionately, groaning when you wrapped your arms around him to pull him closer. Loved the feeling of your fingers tangling in his hair, the taste of his food lingering on your tongue. He only pulled away from devouring your mouth to promise that he'd take such good care of you. He always stayed true to his word. 

Strong hands slipped under your shirt to fondle your tits and tweak your nipples, his tongue still shoved down your throat. Sanji gently removed your top, then mouthed along your throat and sternum until his lips wrapped around your nipple. He echoed your moan and murmured, "Make more pretty sounds like that, my angel. Show me how much you need this."

Filthy wet noises filled the room as he intently sucked your hardened bud and rolled the other between his fingers. Hearing you whimper ‘Sanji’ lit a fire inside him and he palmed the growing bulge in his slacks. You ached to feel his heavy cock on your tongue or stretch out your cunt, but your boyfriend had the patience of a saint. You always came first – literally and figuratively.

He slid your pants and undies down your legs and teasingly kissed from your ankle to your inner thigh, leaving behind a few playful bite marks carefully soothed by his lips. Mumbled something cheesy about needing his dessert after a meal, which made you roll your eyes affectionately. The man couldn’t resist his food metaphors.

“Aww, don’t give me that look, darling,” he purred, resting his cheek on your hipbone with a dreamy expression. “Your pussy really is that delicious, so sweet and wet for me.” Pressed a chaste kiss below your navel then dove between your legs without a second thought. 

The blonde licked along your slit with the flat of his tongue, groaning deep in his chest when he realized how wet you already were. He would never rush through eating an opulent dessert, needing to take it slowly and savor every little taste. So he focused entirely on your clit, swirling his wet muscle around it then sucking intently. Electric shocks tingled down your spine and heat rapidly ignited your core. Four days was objectively a short time to go without sex, but you were already embarrassingly close after only a few minutes of his mouth on your cunt. You didn’t even need to warn your boyfriend of your impending orgasm – he easily recognized the signs. Knew your body even better than you did. 

You came with a cry of his name, your back arching off the bed and thighs clamping around his head. Sanji continued to lick your cunt the entire time, humming happily as he slurped every drop of your juices. After a few moments of riding out your ecstasy, you realized he wasn’t stopping. He didn’t even slow down. 

Overwhelmed by the sensations, you tried to protest, though you didn’t actually want him to stop. Your body could only handle so much, especially since your muscles were still sore from fighting the previous day. He paid you no mind, gently assuring you that he only wanted to help you and make you feel good (which was true, but he was also rock hard from tasting your cunt, grinding his hips against the mattress like a horny teenager). Plus, you could use your safe word at any time – he reminded you of that several times a week.  

Sanji suddenly lifted your legs and folded your body in half until your ankles were next to your ears, wet pussy on full display. Your boyfriend was absolutely drunk off of your cunt, but he needed to watch your reaction. Seeing your eyes roll back into your skull for him, your cheeks red and lips parted, was absolutely stunning. His nose insistently rubbed against your clit as his tongue shoved its way inside you, lapping at your wet walls. You gripped the sheets with white knuckles and squirmed at the feeling of his beard rubbing at your sensitive skin. Stars flashed across your vision as you came again, legs trembling mid-air.

The blonde hummed happily and swiped a finger through your slick, making your oversensitive body jolt, then brought it to your lips. “Taste.” A gentle command with no real backing, but a command nonetheless. You happily sucked it into your mouth, obsessed with how his visible eye darkened with lust when your cheeks hollowed around the digit. “That’s a good girl. My perfect girl.”

That finger, now wet with your spit, traveled back between your legs to circle your hole. He had a look of fiery determination as he settled his body over you, leaning on one elbow. “I would never let my princess only cum once.” 

There was no stopping him until he decided you were satisfied. In a quiet voice, you reminded him that you actually came twice, but it made no difference to either of you. 

He expertly scissored your insides apart and massaged your wet walls. You begged him to let you take care of his noticeable bulge, precum beginning to stain the outer layer of his pants – somehow, he was still fully clothed. He shook his head and insisted that he was alright, that you mattered more. You came to him for help, after all. 

Sanji only gave you a few minutes of reprieve after your third orgasm, choosing to make out with you languidly and try (but fail) to stop himself from grinding against your thigh, desperate for any sort of friction. Your boyfriend obviously didn’t have the sexual stamina of a god, especially when it came to who he declared to be the most beautiful woman in all of existence. He just liked edging himself. 

Tears pricked at your eyes when he shoved his head between your thighs again, scissoring you open to keep licking at your sweet hole. 

The first time Sanji made you cry from too many orgasms felt like a knife to his chest. He had immediately pulled his cock out of you and cupped your face cautiously like you were made of glass. Apologizing endlessly, already spiraling into self-hatred and mourning the loss of the best relationship he would ever have. You shook your head and told him they were happy tears. He seemed very confused and no less mortified, so you explained that he was making you feel so fucking good that you lost control of your body. That shut him up immediately.

Sanji paused his movements for a moment to ask, “Happy tears?” You nodded eagerly and he cooed at you, wiping away the droplets and telling you how incredible and beautiful you are, promising that you just needed to hang on a little longer. He would never enjoy seeing you cry, but he trusted that you knew your limits. 

You nearly blacked out when a fourth orgasm washed over you, but were pulled back to consciousness by Sanji’s soft lips against yours. He really did let you relax this time, caressing the top of your head and kissing every inch of your face, focusing on the drying tears staining your cheeks. Asked if you wanted a glass of water, a gentle massage – anything. You refused, so he rested his head on your chest to feel your rapid heartbeat slow down and your lungs relax. 

“Are you satisfied, my dear?” 

“Definitely. But you aren’t.” You frowned, shifting against his clothed cock to feel it twitch helplessly against your leg.

Sanji bit back a moan and forced a gentle smile. “Just let me know when you’re ready for more. I can wait minutes, or hours, or even days – it’s completely up to you.”

You shook your head, smirking as you tugged on the waistband of his pants. “Four days was long enough.” Zipping down his fly at a slow, teasing pace, then lightly rubbing the head of his cock through his boxers. “Stop being so humble and let me suck your dick.”

Hearts filled his eyes. “I would never deny my angel what she wants.”

[charmercharm3r]

In Phases, imagine that Reader gets fucked so good and so well by both that she falls into sub-space, pretty much like Minho does sometimes. No thoughts, mind blank, half-unconscious and she loses awareness of her surroundings for seconds, body only searching for the high. You know what I mean.

How would that happen and how would the bbies react after bringing her to that point??👀

I'm desesperatly in love with your blog btw❤❤

this, I simply couldn't ignore and had to turn it into a whole drabble

Masterlist, Phases Masterlist

☆ﾟ

Sweaty, tired, numb yet somehow on fire, "moaning like a pornstar," was how Jisung put it.

Except porn is fake. This, this feeling, the way they made you feel is entirely real.

Jisung had his back against the headboard, hands behind his head with his mouth agape while he watched you work yourself into a frenzy in his lap. He could hear the wooden headboard banging agains the wall, could feel your skin rubbing uncomfortably against one another because you'd been going at it for so long, but he didn't care, as long as you didn't either. And you clearly didn't.

Because now you were calling Minho over, who was still trying to catch his breath at the foot of the bed from when you milked him just a few minutes ago. "C'mon now kitty, don't keep our cock hungry princess waiting."

You couldn't stop moving, swiveling forward and back to feel Jisung's tip nudge the soft spot within you, mindlessly beckoning your other boyfriend over because you missed his presence. As if he wasn't in you less than five minutes ago, Minho took your hand like a champ and stood by your side, only to be pulled down into a sloppy kiss by the back of the neck, all the while you didn't slow down.

Your hand glided down his wet chest to find his dick raising again, somehow hardening under your touch. You liked the feeling of his tongue in your mouth, but craved something bigger, heavier.

Minho winced against your lips as you tugged at his cock, "can't- hurts-"

"You can, and you will," Jisung instructed before the other could protest.

All three of you knew Minho could take it, if he truly didn't want to, he would've tried hard to fight it or used the safe word. Instead, Minho kissed you deeper and slightly rutted into your hand before pulling away. He moved to stand on the bed, beside where you and Jisung stayed connected. As soon as he was close enough, you reached to take his cock in your mouth, barely trying to suck.

Jisung had the biggest shit-eating smirk on his face, enthralled by the sight before him. Minho held onto the headboard for balance, the feeling of your warm mouth already making him want to crumble from overstimulation. He was already amazed by how much you were still able to take, thinking in the back of his mind that he needed to do more cardio to catch up to you.

The weight of one dick on your tongue, the other filling you so nicely, you didn't think it could get any better-

Correction; you didn't think. You couldn't think.

Every thought in your head drifted away the second your first orgasm passed, you didn't even know what number you were on now. Maybe Jisung knew- you'll find out eventually.

But his hand was wrapping around your throat now, squeezing softly and feeling the air supply slowly dwindling little by little. Slack jawed, Minho took advantage and threaded his fingers in your hair to rut in quick jabs, the drool dripping down your chin and onto Jisung's hand.

Your thighs burned, trying so hard to maintain a rhythm and failing. Jisung could tell, to Minho it was obvious, they were both just proud you were still going. In an attempt to get him to squeeze harder, you placed your hand around Jisung's. Instead of constricting, he lifted you up by the neck to get you to sit high on your knees.

Even with a mouth full of cock, you couldn't contain your moans. The vibrations of your whining made Minho squirm and rut faster, sloppier. Elevated in more ways than just in his lap, Jisung pulled out to the tip only to slam back into you, thrusting from below at a more than leisure pace. His thumb found its way to your clit, rubbing harshly back and forth perfectly to make you grab at Minho's thigh and harder at Jisung's hand around your neck.

Your eyes rolled back, taking Minho in his full stride and the pummeling you were receiving from below. All senses flushed stupid, feeling nothing and everything all at once and in fact, moaning like a pornstar.

It was so good to the point you didn't realize you'd stopped breathing even when Jisung loosened his grip on your windpipe. You were suddenly being lowered into someone's arms and placed with your head against their chest. It felt as though you had just woken up from a deep slumber, but was sweaty and smelled like bodies on bodies.

"Baby, hey hey, come back to us," Jisung cooed sweetly, brushing away the matted hair on your forehead.

Another set of hands was caressing your back, cooled off by a damp towel being wiped up and down the exposed skin.

Your eyes fluttered open, seeing Minho's big browns glossy with concern, "there she is."

"Hm..?" The dryness of your throat hurt a little, as did the joints in your jaw.

Jisung carefully laid you on your back with your head at the foot of the bed. You could hear him distantly chuckle about the pillows being too icky to lay on.

Towering over you, Minho used the same hand cloth to wipe your face, down your neck and body. He gently kissed your belly as he continued to traverse your lower half and legs. Drowsily looking around the room, you almost rolled your eyes behind your head to find Jisung, who popped in upside down into your field of vision.

"You okay, sweetheart? You blacked out on us," before you could answer, he Spiderman kissed you chastely.

"Dicks too good, apparently." Minho and Jisung high fived each other over your limp body.

"Thirsty," you groaned, trying to regain moisture back into your mouth.

"Yeah, you were. I swear my dick was about to fall off." The older chuckled as he sauntered off to the bathroom for a moment once you were clean. Jisung took his place and sat you up to bring a water bottle to your lips.

"Don't complain. Just means we gotta step up our game, right? Hit the gym more often. You got us both beat, pretty princess." Soft and sweet, the blonde leaned forward to kiss your forehead and tip you back again. "But seriously," he said with your cheeks in his hands, "don't ever scare us like that again. It's okay to stop."

You couldn't help the slightly embarrassed giggle, "I would've if I could."

"Look!" Minho came running back into the room, still completely naked. "Lipstick!" Your lipstick. Printed in a ring around the base of his flaccid cock.

Jisung's mouth dropped, "that's so hot. I want one, too."

"You just told me I should sto-"

"Next time, next time. Can't have you breaking in two." Jisung grabbed the blanket from the side chair and draped it over your body.

As Minho tossed the soiled pillows to the ground and got into bed beside you, he murmured, "yet."

-

tags: @sensitiveandhungry @babebatter @changbinluvr @epiphanynaffit @fawnpeaks @linovely @dumplinbokkieracha @finnydraws @naturules @djeniryuu @skzhomiehopper @yesv01 @hyunjinsamdl @dazzlingligth @lvrhyuka @alexis-reads-fics @linaliskz @0002linoskitten @chillichillicrabcrab23 @zerefdragn33l @straycrescent @binnies-donuts @soldierstangirl-blog @bakedlilgoonie @levanterlily @shelbyyy44 @yeetmehome @in2heartz @astroodledream @the-sweetest-rose @goblinracha @lilbugs-things @viviennenstan @staurdvst @alex--awesome--22 @imzenning @jeyelleohe @kaitchan @iadorethemskz @skyvastbunny @mamabymychem @katsukis1wife @woozarts @noellllslut

[jevilowo]

How the mercs would play tf2

Scout is a Heavy main bc he likes the POWER. He tried playing as himself but kept dying bc of low health and got pissed. Constantly yelling for Medic. The 124hp disease is eternal.

Soldier only plays as himself because it's American. Keeps ragequitting. Can't figure out how to rocket jump in game. Has broken 79284654 keyboards in rage.

Pyro plays as themself mostly, but I can see them messing around as other classes on occasion. I think they'd get a kick out of playing Medic sometimes. Still, they're mostly themself and one of those players you think are friendlies bc they do mannrobics over and over but then they unleash fiery death upon you.

Demo would try to play himself but accidentally clicks on a different class and ends up being really good at that too despite being absolutely fucking hammered. Can't aim meelees for shit (just like me fr) but is alright with regular guns. Especially enjoys the wonders of w + m1ing people as Pyro.

Heavy plays himself obviously. Don't think he'd be into playing anyone else, except maybe as medic to pocket his sisters if they played (Zhanna is also a Heavy main btw). He'd be really bad at first but get good really fast. Always remembers to throw sandviches to the medics like (gigachad)

Engie would only play himself, but I think he'd get distracted thinking of ways to improve the game. Only plays in five minute bursts and spends the rest of his time building mods to improve The Experience. Pyro guards his buildings vigilantly between these bursts and they rarely crumble under their watchful gaze and neon sign of sapper destruction.

Medic plays himself mostly, but usually as a battle medic. Ze healing is not as rewarding and all that. I think he'd also be into the POWER (like Scout) of playing massive damage dealing classes (like Pyro, Heavy and Soldier) because again. Hurting.

Sniper would only play himself no exceptions. Slowly evolves into one of those 3000hr 4channer sniper mains and gets ridiculously competitive about the whole thing. Gets so caught up in headshotting he forgets he has a secondary weapon and meelee and dies easily to spies.

Spy abhors the game as a whole, especially playing himself, as it doesn't "accurately portray the intricacies of being a spy" or whatever. Plays occasionally to troll under an alt account but tell no one or he'll fuck your mother.

Miss Pauling would enjoy playing Demo I think, going off vibes alone, but she'd get a kick out of Scout on 2fort matches specifically because it's Efficient for Objective Completion.

Admin is, like Spy, beyond such frivolities. If she ever bothered I think she'd enjoy Sniper or Spy as she too spends a lot of time Staring.

Saxton Hale only plays on his own mode, and as Heavy when not as himself. Hes really fucking annoying about it.

Like I said, Zhanna's defo a Heavy main, but plays Soldier sometimes to bond with her husband. She's way better than him, obviously.

Merasmus hates Soldier and will ragequit any match with Soldiers in them which means he doesnt play often. When he does, however, he likes to be a Demoknight.

Scout's Ma plays Pyro. Like Ms Pauling, this is vibes alone, but she'd also play Spy and Scout sometimes as they are her boyfriend/son.

Grey Mann wouldn't play he'd just infest the game with more bots because he sucks like that.

[hailsatanacab]

a father's son

Happy holiday truce, @dashing-through-ecto!! I was your gifter this year, I hope you enjoy the fic! Based on your prompt: "Do you need any help, Dad?"

Word count 2.2k - ao3 link

Things have not been going well for Danny Fenton.

Not only did he fail in intercepting Lancer’s call home, so now Mom and Dad know about his latest grades—he didn’t even get enough answers for an F this time, not when he fell asleep within the first five minutes—but they also caught Jazz taking the trash out for him.

“That’s one of your chores, young man! Heaven knows you don’t have many of them, which is why you need to be responsible and actually do the ones that we give you! It’s just not good enough, Daniel James Fenton, do you hear me?”

The full name.

It’s not often he gets it, but it sucks each and every time he does.

What sucks even more is that now, with what little free time he has, he’s cleaning the lab. It’s just not fair!

Broken glass skitters along the floor as he sweeps it up into the dustpan, ectoplasm still clinging to the bottom of the beaker. 

He can’t even goof off—can’t even use his powers to finish quicker—because his dad is sitting at the workbench tinkering with whatever his newest interest is.

Great. Looks like he’s stuck cleaning the boring, human way.

The lab is quiet, but it isn’t silent. 

Ectoplasm drips, maddeningly, from the gloop stuck on the ceiling. That’s a form of torture, isn’t it? Danny’s pretty sure he’s heard that before, that the constant sound of water droplets will drive someone insane. He can relate, because this is certainly testing him.

Dad’s talking to himself, too, little murmurs about what he’s doing, where he should be soldering, how it should be working and why it isn’t. 

Vaguely, Danny wonders what he’s working on. Sure, it’s probably some ghost thing, but that’s not all they do! His parents made some pretty great advances before the portal switched on and monopolised all of their thoughts.

Yeah, that might be wishful thinking, but stranger things have happened! You never know.

Every 30 seconds, the motor on the ecto-filter whirrs into life, syphoning off the excess, pure ectoplasm from the portal and filtering it into something less volatile. In theory.

Underneath everything, the portal hums.

A droning beat that pulses in the same rhythm as his heart. Sometimes, he catches himself staring at it, leaning closer as it calls to him.

It scares him.

“Shit!” his dad shouts, dropping the soldering iron with a loud clang. 

It’s enough to knock Danny out of whatever daydream he’d lost himself in and he whirls around to see his dad sucking on one of his fingers.

They lock eyes, both widening as they realise what’s happened.

“Ah, I mean, suffering spooks! That really hurt…” He shoves his fingers back into his mouth and his shoulders droop as he considers Danny. “Don’t tell your mother.”

Danny laughs.

“Are you alright?”

“It’d take more than that to put Jack Fenton down! All good, Danno, don’t you worry,” he smiles back before shaking his hand out and turning back to whatever he was working on. “Or, I would be, if this hunk of junk was cooperating with me!”

“What’s up?” Danny asks, curiosity getting the better of him.

Normally, he likes to stay out of the lab, as much as he can. 

Obviously, what Phantom does doesn’t count. Phantom can’t help but come into the lab, set ghosts loose into the Zone, trash whatever weapons his parents have got going on, sneak out into the Zone when he can for some much needed R&R. The ectoplasm just hits different there.

“I’m trying to repurpose this toaster, but the ecto won’t run smoothly through the wiring. I think it keeps getting cooked by the element.”

“Oh? Do you need some help?”

Danny doesn’t like spending time in the lab, because if he’s in the lab then he’s either Phantom and he’s trying hard not to be seen or heard, or he’s Danny and he’s being punished.

But his curiosity is piqued.

“Yeah, come here, have a look! Perhaps another Fenton brain can knock some sense into it!”

So, he does.

Hell, anything beats cleaning the lab.

“You’re trying to run it through here?”

Dad nods and shifts in his seat to give Danny a better view.

“But you can’t, because the ecto is tripping the heating element… which is way higher than a toaster has any right to be, wow. No wonder it’s destabilising the ectoplasm, that would destabilise anything.”

Danny pokes around the casing, wiggling the wires back and forth to get a better look at the absolute mess his dad has made of it all. Sometimes it amazes him that his parents' inventions work at all.

“That’s what I’m thinking! But it has to be that high so we can completely break down the ecto!”

“You want it to break down?”

“Yep!” Dad says, clapping him on the back hard enough that he wheezes. He grins down at him when Danny turns around reproachfully. “Think of it, boyo, if we could figure out how to flash fry that ectoplasm high enough so that it evaporates—which it should do, it’s goopy gross liquid, after all!—then you wouldn’t be stuck down here cleaning for so long! We could take it to the streets after a ghost fight and clean up the whole town!”

Well, it’s not a Nobel Prize level invention… Danny’s pretty sure at this point that his parents would be laughed out by the Nobel committee. But, a quicker cleaning of the lab does sound nice.

It would mean he’d be stuck down here a lot less.

Besides… It's interesting.

“What if we…” Danny trails off and pulls the metal frame towards him, grabbing the tweezers as he goes. Vaguely, he’s aware of his dad leaning over his shoulder, the weight of him watching is a comforting presence that he’s not felt in a long while. 

The real trouble is that you need ectoplasm to affect ectoplasm, and that’s not going to work if the object of the game is to evaporate it. 

So what if they don’t introduce the reactive ecto until the end?

He makes quick work of stripping down what his dad’s already done and starts again, this time focussing on keeping the heat contained separately away from the ectoplasm. Just as he’s piecing together a trigger to concurrently shoot a blast of ecto towards the heated tip, Dad exclaims as he realises where he’s going with it.

“Oh! Danny, you’re a genius! Look at that!” Dad laughs and squints closer at what Danny’s doing. “Just wait until your mother sees this, she’s going to be so happy!”

Danny can’t help but grin as he ductapes everything to a piece of toaster casing to give it the first test try. Dad’s enthusiasm is catching as he whoops when the first puddle of ectoplasm burns off in acrid smoke.

They spend another couple of hours perfecting it, welding a case together and branding it with the Fenton F.

It’s not pretty—but then again, when are his parents’ inventions?—a long stick with a cattle-prod-like taser at the end. Instead of electricity, it launches ectoplasm from one rod and superheats the other. When activated, all you need to do is touch the tip to a puddle and poof! It’s gone.

Danny shivers as he watches another pool go up.

But, no! He’s thinking about it wrong. It’s not a cattle-prod, it’s more like one of those sticks you see people using on the highway to jab at the litter on the floor. It’s for cleaning. It’s going to make his lab cleaning chores way easier! It’s—

“Danny, just look at it!”

Danny looks at it, and then back to his father’s face when he can’t bear to see the smoking ecto anymore. It’s painfully happy and Danny does his best to be happy, too.

“Here!” Dad shoves the contraption into Danny’s arms. “You use that and finish what you’re doing and then when you’re done—I can’t believe I’m saying this, galloping ghouls, I’m so happy, I’m working with my boy—we can get to work transferring it over to the Jack o’ Nine Tails! Imagine it, Danny, with one whip and that pesky poltergeist Phantom will be gone!”

Danny freezes.

It feels as if Dad’s just dumped a bucket of ice water over him.

“Poof! Up in smoke!”

The fumes are getting to him. That must be it. His head is swimming and his stomach is churning. There’s a ringing in his ears and it melds with the sharp, stinging whirr of ectoplasm sizzling. It pulses in time with the portal behind him.

He stumbles, almost goes down—almost throws up—but it doesn’t matter. Dad doesn’t see him, already turned away back to the work bench.

It doesn’t matter.

It doesn’t matter.

You know what, it’s okay! It’ll be okay, Danny can sneak back down here later tonight and he can undo it all, it doesn’t matter!

Take a deep breath, now, finish cleaning the lab, ignore Dad—it doesn’t matter—and get this over with. Being here makes his skin crawl, he needs to finish—

“I’m so proud of you, Danny.”

For the second time, Danny stops.

Dad doesn’t say anything else, just sits with his back to him, opening and closing his hand over a screwdriver with the Jack o’ Nine Tails splayed out in front of him.

It takes longer than Danny wants to find his voice, but he manages to croak out, “What?”

“I’m proud of you, Danno. I know this year hasn’t been easy for you, don’t think we haven’t noticed. Your mom and I have been talking about how you're doing at school. We're not blind. We know kids can be cruel, and that Dash Baxter… But we're so proud of you for not rising to it. We love you so much, Danny.”

A lump grows in Danny’s throat and his eyes prickle.

His fingers bleach white where they grip the Fenton Evaporator too tight.

“Look at what you can do when you try, Danny! This is the boy that I know, this is the Danny that I love. I’m so proud of what we’ve done here today. It’ll make the world a better place, just you wait! Now, come on, boyo, pass me that soldering iron and let’s really get stuck in!”

And… And Danny does.

With shaky limbs and tears threatening to spill, Danny reaches over and passes Dad the soldering iron, watching as he gets to work, and when his dad asks him to get his hands dirty—“Here, run this wire up the rope, there’s a good boy!”—he does.

Danny does it all and he does it well.

He sucks in a deep breath, swipes a hand over his eyes, and he helps his dad.

He laughs when Dad tells his stupid jokes:

“Quick! What’s red, white, and blue all over?”

“I don’t know, Dad, what’s red, white, and blue all over?”

“A ghost that we’ve beaten into oblivion!”

And he hopes that his mom is going to be just as proud as Dad says she will be when she sees what they’ve done.

It’s easy, really.

If he doesn’t think about it, if he tucks his mind away and just lets his hands get on with it, then he’s just helping his dad and he can do that. He can do it.

He can do it.

So, no, he doesn’t sabotage what they’ve built. He doesn’t add in a failsafe. He doesn’t loosen a few screws, or overload the element, or untwist a few wires.

Danny does his best and at the end of the day his dad holds up the new and improved Jack o’ Nine Tails and absolutely beams at him. A work of art, he calls it.

Danny doesn’t sabotage it then and he won’t sabotage it later, because it’s a work of art. This is what he and his dad built. Together.

Danny can’t help but grin back, happiness curling in his belly even as it gives a sickening lurch.

He doesn’t eat dinner that night, he can’t.

He stays downstairs long enough to present the new weapon to Mom—very pointedly ignoring Jazz’s look—and then he heads upstairs. There’s an English essay he needs to get started on, after all.

He doesn’t miss the look Mom and Dad share, the fond tenderness, the love, the hope, all directed at him.

He’s happy.

They’re happy.

They’re proud of him.

And despite it all, he had fun today! 

When he lays down on his bed, he smiles and he can’t stop the laughter bubbling up as he thinks about his dad. At one point, he had been holding up a circular piece of metal he’d cannibalised from the lamp shade to his eyes, moving it back and forth as he pulled his funny faces, and some of that full belly laugh creeps back in as he remembers doing the same back.

He laughs so hard until he cries, and he cries, and he cries. 

Today, he and his dad built a weapon. 

Tomorrow, it'll be used on him, but that's okay. 

It's okay because today, today his dad was proud.

[incorrectcreepypastafam]

Creepypasta As Hazbin Hotel

Ben: so what do you think

Jeff: I’m sorry what the fuck was that

Helen: we’re not filming a porn as a commercial

Puppeteer: why not

Nina: I like being forced

Jeff: keep that to yourself, Nina

Nina: Puppeteer sir

Puppeteer: call me dickmaster

Nina: Puppeteer.

Nina: it’s a solution to our biggest problem

Jeff: oh yeah herpes that’s a bitch

Nina: no our other biggest problem

Jeff: oh uh ugly people?

Jeff: math?

Jane: face my wrath

Jeff: who are you

Jane: I attacked you literally last week

Jeff: ?

Jane: we’ve done battle like twenty times

Jeff: well you must’ve been really bad at this

Liu: oh god, here I go, Jeff. just another fucking day with Jeff. hey hey hey fuck my life

Liu: looks like you have everything under control here

Lyra: of course I do, fuck you, now shoo, go take care of the piss baby

Liu: so you should…?

Jeff: do nothing?

Liu: great idea!!

Toby: you still pissed he almost beat you that time?

Jeff: uh fuck you

Toby: just saying

Sally: *gasp* the bad boy is back

Sally: never leave me again

Brian: we’re about 80% sure she’s harmless

Jeff: this is stupid

Lyra: this is not stupid!

Lyra: it’s just the GAMEEEEE

Lyra: Liu did it well so please try to do the same!

Jeff: I’m too sober for this

Jeff: I’m looking forward to stabbing the other residents

Slenderman: WHAT WHY

Slenderman: people are being nice because they want you to feel welcome

Jeff: *middle finger*

Liu: *middle finger*

Toby: *laughs evilly*

Nina: I have my doubts

Tim: Puppeteer’s minions are all over the place and I need you to get rid of them

Jeff: oh well in that case I’d be delighted to

Tim: humanely

Jeff: well that’s a lot less fun

Jeff: this time everyone has to catch him, okay? Unless you want me to hurt you

Jeff: I love to suck-

Tim: I swear to fuck if you say dicks

Jeff: popsicles, you sicko! Get your mind outta the gutter

Jeff: but you know, dicks too

Sally: sometimes I kill mother bugs in front of their children as a warning to others

Jeff: NINA?!

Clockwork: uh my name’s Clocky

Jeff: no one gives a shit

Jeff: call me fake one more time, motherfucker

Jeff: i dare you

Toby: fake

Jeff: fucking asshole- *hits his head on roof*

Toby: you done?

Liu: Lyra, sweetie, you uh you good?

Lyra: nope no not really!

Sally: maybe it’s time

Lazari: no

Sally: to ask

Lazari: don’t say it

Sally: your dad

Lazari: UGHHHHHH

Lyra: wait that’s it

Jeff: kill everyone?

Lyra: noooooo

EJ: what’s the hold up?

EJ: you got daddy issues?

Lulu: no we’ve just never been close

Lulu: after Mom died he never really wanted to see me

Lulu: he calls sometimes but only if he’s bored or needs me to do something

EJ: daddy issues

Brian: this is the first time she’s called you in years

Brian: this has to be perfect

Brian, picking up the phone: HEYYYY BITCH

Jeff: you may have heard of me from my radio broadcast

Tim: hmmm NOPE I guess that’s why Toby called it the Hazbin Hotel hahaha

Jeff: hahaha it was actually my idea

Tim: hahaha well it’s not very clever

Jeff: haha fuck you

Toby: OKAY

Brian: you like girls! so do I! We have so much in common

Clockwork: how you been?

Jeff: good! Until five minutes ago

Sadie: hey Sally what you been up to, girlie?

Sally: fighting bugs

Sadie: and how’s that going for you

Sally: they’re winning

Sally: but not for long

Lulu: how come he can have faith in me but my own father can’t?

Jeff: oooooh drama *pulls out popcorn*

Slenderman: hi

Slenderman: Slenderman

Slenderman: that’s my wall that you just blew up

Jeff: don’t fucking shush me bitch

Sadie: I need a break but hug a koala for me

Nina: omg can you imagine an actual KOALA

Jeff: anyway you sure fucked up didn’t you

Jeff: oh Lyra, you look an absolute mess

Sadie: I won’t hurt anyone for you

Jeff: who’s asking?!

Ben: Jeff and Toby just left like they were running away from their responsibilities

Ben: should we be alarmed?

Helen: are you fucking high?

Lulu: oh I’m just kidding

Lulu: I know you’re an ace in the hole

Ann: a what now?

Sally: I named all the stains on the carpet

Sally: that one’s Fred

Liu: look I can’t resist a fight okay

Liu, about Jeff: especially when I get to tag team with this fuckhead

Lyra: live tonight however you want because-

Toby: we’re all gonna die!

Dina: alright let’s give it up for not dying!

Dina: love not dying!

Dina: … drinks?

Jeff: I mean personally I’m excited it’s been a long time since I stabbed someone and really meant it you know what I mean

Lazari: I dub thee king roach

EJ: oh to understand your twisted little mind

Jeff: anyway I guess

Jeff: please don’t die tomorrow

Jeff: okay bye

Lyra: rip Jane’s cunt mouth out her ass

Jeff: would you just- chill, Lyra, fuck

Zero: they appear to have some kind of shield sir

Puppeteer: oh really? I didn’t see this giant fucking shield in front of me YOU DUMB BITCH NO SHIT

Jeff: I’m about to end your fucking life

Puppeteer: fuck you, you red piece of- too much fucking red- fuck shut up

Ben: hahaha poetry

Jeff: what just happened? Ffffuck

Toby: these fucking angels won’t stop coming

Jeff: HA

Toby: okay I walked right into that one

Jane: Before I take your life I’m going to tear that other eye out of your face

Clockwork: try it bitch

Jeff, to Jane: live

Jeff: live knowing that you only do because I let you

Slenderman: see you messed with my daughter so now I am going to FUCK you

Zalgo: …

Clockwork & Lyra: …

Jeff: 😏

LJ: well this just got interesting

Sally: it’s fuck you up, Dad

Slenderman: wait what did I say?

Liu: how’s mercy taste, you little bitch

Slenderman: take your little friends and GO HOME

Slenderman: please

Puppeteer: I’m The Puppeteer

Helen: and I’m-

Puppeteer: nobody gives a shit who you are, Helen

Zero: anyway congrats to Slenderman and his crew for not being totally fucking useless for once

[ghostgirl-22]

You may find yourself

18+ !NSFW!

Day 4: Two prompts in one 😊

SFW: Interview

NSFW: Strap on

___________________________

A year ago, Patrick would have never imagined staying up to watch Art on the Late Late Show deflecting questions about their relationship; but ever since they hugged each other at the challenger and that photo went viral, their life has been under a microscope. Clearly Art winning the US Open for the first time wasn’t as important as: Did you see Patrick Zweig sitting next to Art’s sister at the Open?

Even people who don’t give a fuck about tennis are invested in them for some reason. Half the world is convinced that he and Art are having a secret affair and that Tashi is just his beard.

“Which is ridiculous actually,” Art smiles at the host, shrugging it off. “I wish my life was that interesting. But the truth is me and Tashi… we’re very boring. I mean we’re usually pretty private. Obviously, the press and stuff comes with the job but on a regular day we’re doing our jobs and raising our daughter. And Patrick is…he’s just an old friend. We lost touch and now we’re just making up for lost time.”

Patrick is lying in Tashi and Arts bed sharing a bowl of ice cream with Tashi. “He’s such a good liar, right?” Patrick says.

”It’s not that far from the truth,” she says, glancing back at him with a smirk.

“So what I’m hearing is he’s an old friend that you only kiss sometimes?” The host asks, the audience laughs and Art smiles going along with it.

“Only when he’s nice to me,” Art says. The audience cheers and whoops like he’s confirming something and Art shakes his head smiling.

“Now that’s gonna be the headline,” the host laughs.

“I know, exactly,” Art says, grinning. “Art Donaldson finally admits...”

“He’s cute,” Patrick says, sucking on his spoon and gazing at her. Something about watching Art pretend they’re a boring couple is turning him on. And it doesn’t hurt that she’s wearing his t-shirt and panties and nothing else. Her pretty hair is clipped up loosely. “We should’ve gone to LA.” He says.

“He’ll be back tomorrow,” Tashi says pointedly.

“You think this is live?”

“I mean there’s a thirty second delay, but yes it’s live.”

Patrick grabs her spoon. “what—?” she snaps at him as he takes the bowl too and puts it on the nightstand.

“Maybe we should fuck again?”

“Are you serious?” She says, incredulous. “You’re hard again? It’s been five fucking minutes.”

“Yeah,” Patrick says distractedly, pulling open her nightstand for a condom.

“No, Patrick, wait!” She calls, diving over his lap to try and stop him from opening it, but it’s too late.

Her shirts riding up as she reaches over him and he’d be more distracted by her white lacy panties if he hadn’t just found their little treasure trove of sex toys. An open box, clearly accessed recently or he wouldn’t have seen it. It’s full of vibrators, lube, beads, handcuffs, etcetera etcetera.

“All we do is work and take care of our daughter.” Patrick mimics Arts television voice. “Such a liar, you’re both so fucking horny,” He grins moving her away so he can lift the box out completely.

Tashi settles back on the bed but hits his arm, mildly annoyed.

“This is actually fucking incredible,” he teases as he examines the contents.

“We went through a phase,” Tashi mutters as he lifts out a magic wand thingy. He presses the button. It starts vibrating and he holds it out to her like a microphone.

“Could you speak up please?”

“I hate you,” Tashi says, pushing his arm away.

Patrick laughs and shuts it off before droppping it back in the box. “Holy shit, please tell me you fucked him,” he exclaims, lifting out what’s clearly a strap on.

She shrugs. “Look nothing was working, okay. He was depressed and I knew I had to try something…that…that….”

“Did he come?”

She bites her lip. “No… but…I mean… he got hard.”

Patrick smirks and grips the fake cock. “You should fuck me.”

“Patrick,” She rolls her eyes but she’s so easy to read. He knows he’s had her since the moment he took the ice cream away.

“Come on,” he says, pulling at her t-shirt. “Fuck my brains out.”

“You’re such a freak,” She whispers but she grabs the strap on from him.

“Says the freak with handcuffs in their nightstand,” he smirks.

“It came with the set. You really think I’d buy furry handcuffs?”

“No, you’re right, you’d just tie him up.”

She sits up on the bed and straddles Patrick. “Jesus, you really are hard,” she says softly. “Help me put it on.”

He lifts her t-shirt so her little lace panties are visible. She’s so god damn beautiful he wonders how she’s surprised his dick is hard. He’s always at least half hard in her presence, he’d be more impressed if he could keep it down. He helps her buckle the straps.

It’s so intimate he almost ends up just fucking her instead but somehow they recover enough for him to watch her play with it. She’s kneeling over him. Rubbing it like she’s jerking off. “What do you think?” She giggles, the shorter strands of her hair falling into her eyes.

“I don’t buy it,” he says.

“Why?” She asks, just like the girl who’s used to getting straight A’s.

“You’re not selling the feeling. It’s supposed to feel good,” he says, gripping it.

“Mm, What about now?” She says, moaning as he jerks it, pushing hair out of her face only for it to fall back again.

He smiles, putting his other hand behind his head. “Yeah, like that. Fucking come all over me.”

She giggles again, a little breathless, he’s not sure how much longer he can do this with her without penetration.

Apparently she feels the same way. “Can you put lube on my big dick?” She asks.

He wants to laugh. He bites it back so she won’t yell at him but she hits him, anyway. “Shut up,” she says, grinning. “Act like I’m him.”

Patrick opens his mouth and then closes it again. He reaches into the box for the lube and rubs it over the toy.

“You should take that shirt off.” He tells her.

“Shh, turn around,” she tells him. “On your hands and knees.”

He sits up and kisses her before doing what she asks. She rubs his ass through his boxers. Something he does to her often and he smiles. Art’s not on the tv anymore, he can hear the host interviewing some singer he’s never heard of. That’s okay, he can still tell him that they fucked while he was talking about them.

“It’s gonna feel good,” Tashi says softly, taking his boxers down.

“Don’t come inside, I’m not on the pill,” he tells her.

She smacks his bare ass and there’s just enough sting there for him to like it. “You're so stupid,” she says quietly as she eases it inside.

”Mm and you love it,” he replies. It actually feels… kinda nice. He relaxes into it.

“You like this don’t you?” Tashi breathes.

“Mmhm,” he hums.

“I wish I could fuck you all the time,” she says.

”So fuck me all the time then,” he sighs as she slides it in and out.

“Does it feel like this when Art does it?”

Patrick smiles, his stomach tightens, his breathing is picking up. “Mm too gentle.”

“Really? He’s not gentle?”

“Sometimes, when he’s in his head.”

She picks up her pace and he groans, “How about now?” She asks, “still too gentle?”

”I can take more,” he says.

“Of course you fucking can, you’re such a slut for me,” she says. If he was in his right mind he would laugh but she’s found the perfect spot. This glorious aching white hot pleasure races through his body on almost every thrust, he wants to hold her there but he pushes back on her instead and she’s a genius so she picks up the pace. She’s so relentless by the end he’s practically begging her for it. He ends up coming untouched on the sheets. He collapses and rolls over, breathless as she crawls on top of him.

“Do you like it?” She asks. She’s a little bit of a mess and he pulls her closer for a kiss.

“Yes, fucking yes,” he tells her, undoing one of the straps of her fake dick. “A fucking plus.”

He unclips the other strap and pulls it off, before easing his fingers into her panties. She’s so wet he needs to take his fingers out again and taste them.

She rests her head against his chest while he finger fucks her. It’s easy, she was already halfway there while she was fucking him.

“Patrick,” she sighs, sleepily after a minute.

“Yeah?”

“I think my dick is bigger than yours,” she whispers.

Patrick smirks. “And he said you guys were boring.”

[alaskan-wallflower]

Since I really love your hurt/comfort hcs, do you have any hcs about how the gang are when they’re sick? You can do it for any of the gang, whoever you have ideas for! ❤️🎞️

Oh boy do I- (Sorry that Dally and Two Bit hardly have any, I don’t have much on their characters for this lol-also I didn’t do Steve purely because i don’t know anything about him because there was like-one line about him in the book lmao)

Ponyboy Curtis

Honestly Darry doesn’t believe Pont sometimes when he says he feels sick because he knows Pony used to fake it sometimes-

So he sends Pony to school only to get a call not even an hour later saying Ponyboy passed out and threw up at school

Pony is WHINY when he’s sick

He doesn’t say much, he just whimpers and whines a lot

Stomachaches are most frequent with him. Especially because of anxiety, he tends to literally worry himself sick

Darry can’t really tell the difference between when Pony is hungry, anxious or sick so he probably made Pony just eat that morning and said he was probably “just anxious” and sent him on his way

Soda kept trying to insist Pony was sick but Darry wouldn’t listen, so Pony just tried to suck it up

Johnny was the one who brought him home, thankfully. He didn’t really know what to do though and Pony kept begging him not to call Darry because the school already did and he doesn’t wanna be a bother

Like I said, he gets stomachaches a lot

So he’s just curled up in a blanket, sniffling while he tries to hold back tears because his stomachaches can get painful as hell

He doesn’t eat when he’s sick. At all. Darry and Soda literally have to try and force him to eat

His favorite is any kind of stew. Especially beef stew. He’s a sucker for it.

When he vomits it tends to be REALLY violent

Like I’m pretty sure he’s fractured a rib from how violent his vomit bouts tend to be

He’s living off ondansetron, Tums and pepsi because he prefers just burping everything up over throwing his back out when it comes to puking

Ges so pitiful too like he just stares at you with these glossy ass eyes and you can’t tell if it’s from sickness or tears and his cheeks are red and his hair is sticking up everywhere

He’s clingy too like Soda cannot escape his grasp

“Pony ai have to go to work” “Nooooo five more minutes :(“

He always has warnings before he throws up. His stomach starts getting loud and he starts very violently burping and someone (usually Darry) has to literally pick Pony up and hold him so he can throw up

They try everything to make it less painful. Soda is squeamish with vomit but he’ll rub Pony’s stomach and Darry will try to hold him kinda tight so he doesn’t convulse too hard and hurt himself

You can always tell when he’s getting better tho evacuate he starts asking for and seeking out food

It was really only one time that Darry refused to let him stay home but it turned out Pony actually had like-a really bad flu and now Darry just takes his word for it (unless he knows Pony has a test or smth in a class he’s not good in but then he starts getting suspicious)

He likes being read to. He’ll ask Soda to read him Great Expectations or Gone With The Wind

“Haven’t you read those like a million times?” “Please..? 🥺” “fine”

(side headcanon but Soda does different voices for different characters and even when he’s sick it makes Pony laugh because he’ll give Pip this rally deep raspy voice or smth)

He’s really just weak for a bit and then he’s like “Darry I’m hungry” and they’re just like “okay yeah he’s getting better”

Sodapop Curtis

Oh. My. God. He’s so fucking dramatic

”Darry, I think I’m dying” “You have a head cold”

You think Ponyboy is whiny you should hear Sodapop

He has a very vocal tummy and being sick isn’t an exception to this

When him and Pony are trying to sleep he’s just curled around his stomach trying to make it be quiet because he knows Pony has school and he doesn’t wanna keep him up

Its genuinely kind of sad because he really just wants to be taken care of but he knows Pong will be at school and he doesn’t wanna ask Darry to take care of him

So he goes into work until Steve catches him vomiting in the bathroom and takes him home

Soda insists on not calling Darry but once he’s asleep Steve calls him

He feels like a burden honestly but he keeps that to himself

He sleeps. A lot. And if you try to wake him up he actually starts crying

He absolutely detests throwing up and will do just about anything to avoid doing it

Hell unironically whine to Darry about how “my tummy hurts :(“

Darry is so over it lmao (he loves Soda but he’ll literally just take Pony to the side and be like “thank you for being somewhat easy when you’re sick” and pony is just like 😒

Soda has an iron grip and when he’s sick and you get stuck in his arms you are NOT escaping

He’s surprisingly hungry when he’s sick like he can eat full meals. They’re small. And probably soup and crackers but he can do it

Hes very shaky and uncoordinated tho so usually he has to have Pony, Darry or Steve help him. Pony and Darry are sweeties about it but Steve will be like “what you want me to do the “here comes the airplane” bullshit?”

He does it in the end and Soda feeds into it. When there together they’re absolute fucking boys and its insane

It’s very rare for him to actually throw up. He has to be REALLY sick in order for that to happen

But when he does throw up? It’s a lot.

his brothers learned this the hard way

Now if they see him twitch in the slightest they’re picking him up bridal style and hoisting him over their shoulders and plopping him in front of the toilet and holding his hair back

He gets very fussy if he gets vomit on himself like he’s immediately like “no i need to shower now”

He absolutely has a kitten sneeze

He gets really depressed when he’s sick because he can’t go outside or do much so he’s just sulking the whole time lmao

He snores when he’s sick because his nose gets stuffy (it’s really weak snoring but enough to keep you awake)

He’s very dramatic tho

It’s kinda like when you accidentally step on a dog’s tail and start doting on them so they milk it a bit (could just be me, I have a very dramatic dog) like the minute you start babying him he goes from “this sucks” to “I’m dying@

“Darry, Pony, I think I’m dying” “Soda, you’re fine. You have a stomach bug” “Can you put red carnations on my grave” “For fucks sake”

They still baby him but he can get annoying lmao

Steve usually takes care of him too when Pony is at school and Darry is at work

You can always tell when he’s better because you can kinda bribe him out of milking it

“I feel like I’m dying” “Yeah, okay. Pony and I are going to McDonalds.” “…can I come”

Hes a doofus. I love him.

Darry Curtis

You cannot get this man to take a break

Don’t even try. He could have puke on his shirt, be drenched in sweat, have a garbage can full of tissues next to his bed and he’ll still be like “yeah i’m fine”

(he’s not fine)

He’ll literally either A.) have to pass out at work, B.) be barricaded inside by his brothers or C.) work himself to the bone to the pony he can’t even get out of bed without stumbling from being so weak

Its usually A or C but sometimes Pony and/or Sofa will intervene and be like “Darry you literally have a 102.7 fever, you threw up, you sweated the Atlantic ocean onto your bed, you’re not roofing houses like this”

And he’s too weak/annoyed to argue

He tries to do everything for himself like if he has to throw up he drags himself up. If he knows he needs to try and eat he’ll be trying to make himself something. It honestly gets to the point where Pony and Soda are snuggling him through the sickness and if there’s even a sign that he’s hungry, or a sign he needs to throw up, one will haul him out and the other will make sure he doesn’t try to do anything by himself

The two of them honestly try to baby him but he’s like “I don’t need to be babied”

He won’t admit it even on his death bed but he loves when his brothers take care of him. It’s a nice change of pace for him and it makes him happy to know his brothers love him so much

He used to feel awkward because Pony and Soda were his younger brothers and he was supposed to care for them but he accepts being taken care of now

Usually his sicknesses come form over exhaustion and not sleeping a lot. So don’t expect him to wake up like…at all when he’s sick

If you even try to wake him up you will be dealing with a VERY angry Ponyboy and Sodapop

Darry doesn’t get stomach bugs too often. Mostly when he’s sick he’s just dealing with a monster of a headache and feeling like he’s gonna pass out at any minute

He has a hard time accepting he’s sick because he thinks it makes him look weak but y’know. His brothers don’t take that from him

He tends to get very frustrated with himself for not being able to stand up properly or the fact that he stumbles to even go and take a shower

He hardly complains unless he’s actually in pain. Because he gets REALLY sore when he’s sick too. His muscles tend to just temporarily die and he’s left shaky and feeling weak

Sods always gives him massages though to try and ease it up. And Darry loves it. Soda has literally put him to sleep on more than one occasion

Pony and Soda both have to carry him to his bed after which is near mission fucking impossible because they’re both lanky as fuck and he’s bigger

It’s hard to tell when he’s genuinely getting better because he will pull some creative shit to try and get back to work. Point and Soda never fall for it though and always drag him back to rest

He deserves a break, man. Give him one :(

Johnny Cade

He’s honestly so quiet about being sick. Like his normal face is already pale and nervous looking so he doesn’t look too far off when he’s sick

He does g admit to anyone when he’s sick because he doesn’t wanna feel like a burden So he just houses himself up at the lot and prays no Socs jump him

Pony usually finds him passed out in the broad sunlight (side headcanon that Johnny needs it to be dark or near dark to fall asleep) and Pony carrie’s him to his place

When he woke up he was honestly just really surprised and mildly upset with Pony for bringing him back to his place

“I told you, I don’t wanna be here-just let me go back to the lot-“ “N O”

He eventually gives in after a while of this because 1. he’s too tired and 2. He genuinely kind of wants to be doted on. But he would rather put a loaded gun in his mouth than admit that

Either Pony bings him to his place or Dally ends up keeping him at Buck’s place before realizing the partying and smell of alcohol probably doesn’t help Johnny so to the Curtis house it is

Dally would absolutely baby him. But if ANYONE brings up the fact that he’s a smidge softer than normal he will break their jaw

He’s not completely soft but he’ll bring Johnny some medicine and his favorite snacks and drinks and will just sit by his bed and make sure he’s okay

I like the little brother dynamic a lot-I have a lot of headcanons about Dally’s past if you’re interested lol-but anyway

When Dally’s in the cooler, the Curtis boys take care of him

He hates being babied but at the same time he’s not used to positive attention. So he kind of just accepts it

He, like Pony, usually worries himself sick, either worrying about what will happen when he goes home nor worrying about the Socs

So he often gets really bad stomachaches too, but not to worry-Soda has magic hands, I swear-Johnny gets REALLY jumpy when Soda first tries to give him a tummy rub but eventually just loosened up and allowed it because it felt nice and kept him from wanting to throw up

He did throw up on Darry’s bed once though and thought Darry was gonna kill him but Darry honestly just shrugged it off and told him that worse has happened in that bed. So Johnny completely relaxes after that

He tends to throw up easily, he has a weak stomach already and when he’s stressed and sick he can’t even hold water down

He tends to get really high fevers too which can be scary for some time

I kinda headcanon that he’s bilingual because one of his parents is Hispanic, so sometimes he’ll just utter stuff in Spanish and nobody really knows what he’s saying

He refuses to take his shirt off though because 1. he hates his body and 2. he’s insecure of his vitiligo (side headcanon that he has vitiligo)

So he’s just left sweating and curled up on the bed

Hes usually on extra high alert when he’s sick though because he knows he’s delirious and he knows he’s slower than normal so he’s constantly in fight or flight and Pony will sit with him for however long it takes for him to calm down

He’ll read to Johnny too to try and get him to just sleep for even a little bit

He did nearly get jumped once when he was sick but he ended up actually kinda fighting back and that’s when Dally had to come in and help him out because he was just standing with his switchblade with unfocused wyes while shaking like a chihuahua

He’s a decent patient. He’s jumpy. He’s kinda always on edge. But he lets himself be taken care of in the end.

Dallas Winston

He swears he never gets sick but he does

When he’s sick he gets even more angry if that’s possible

He just hangs out at Bucks because he would rather dig his own grave than be doted on by the gang

So he kinda prefers to take care of himself. But Johnny always knows when he’s sick. It’s like a spidey sense of his, knowing whenDallas is sick

So it’s either Johnny getting to help Dally get better or Dally is living in Buck’s bedroom with nothing but alcohol and smokes.

Sometimes Johnny will come over to try and give Dally medicine or something. Dally did NOT wanna take it but Johnny took no shit

“C’mon, Dal. You need to take it to get better.” “No I don’t, just leave me be” “You’re taking it whether you like it or not”

Theyre such a dynamic duo I swear

Dally refuses to take any flavored medicine either because he wants to look tuff. But he CANNOT swallow pills dry

He can chug down beers and eat chicken legs like a beast but when it comes to pills? Nuh uh. He can’t do it. He tries and ends up almost throwing up on himself.

Hes honestly not even awake whenever he’s sick. He’s always sleeping or just sitting and staring at the ceiling

He doesn’t get sick TOO often but when he does he refuses to leave Buck’s place.

He literally just shows up at Buck’s place whenever he’s sick like “I feel like shit and I’m crashing here thanks

Buck doesn’t give a shit, he’s drunk or high half the time so he’s just like “oh ok”

Sometimes Johnny will bring Pony along because pony wants to come too

Dally kinda gets pissed at first because he’s like “I don’t want you two babying me or harassing me to take my medicine, I’ll do it when I want to.

So honestly that’s just kinda how he is lmao. He’s not abreast patient. At all. And in the end he will curse you out for trying to make him take medicine (alcohol is the best medicine to him) and he will shoot down any requests for care. But if you’re Johnny you might…MIGHT be able to get through to him

Two Bit Mathews

Let’s be real he was a dirt eater as a kid

He has the immune system of a tank. But when he does get sick he might as well be drunk with how delirious he acts

He just crashes on the Curtis’ couch and whoever is up first (Darry or Pony usually) will just stare at him for a minute, roll their eyes and heave him up so they can clean him up because he puked on himself and the floor and the couch and the wall and somehow the ceiling

Nobody knows how he does it. He kinda just…does.

Usually his sicknesses come from the massive fucking hangovers be endured after going to parties so you’re dealing with a very delirious, snarky, stubborn Two Bit who will eat all the chocolate cake in the house no matter how sick he is

He jsut crashes on the Curtis’ couch for a few days because he’s honestly just so exhausted and doesn’t give a shit. They know he’s better when he’s left their house

He only likes the flavored kids shit. Darry refuses to buy it so Two Bit will sneak out and steal it because he’s just like that

Whenever he gets a hangover he’ll just drink a giant think of Pepsi or something because he knows he’s dehydrated and whatnot and that’s the only thing that helps

That or milk. Whatever is in the Curtis’ fridge

He literally just sits in front of the TV all day and it ticks Darry off so fucking much

“You were just complaining bait how much your head was hurting and now you’re over here watching TV. What world does that make sense in?” “My world. Now move, I wanna see what happens next.”

He’s so annoying sometimes lmao-then he just flat out ends up leaving with the Curtis’ cake being like “yeah I feel better, thanks for letting me crash, bye”

[fox-bright]

tw: suicidal ideation, depression

So for me, suicidality goes like this.

Sometimes I'm walking through the house, and it's a bit of a mess, and I don't like that, and a gremlin jumps in front of me with his jazz hands out and screeches "LOOK AT THIS! THOSE DISHES ARE TWO DAYS OLD! YOU SHOULD KILL YOURSELF ABOUT IT." and I quirk an eyebrow at it, and sigh "What the hell, you jackass, get out of my house." And it says "DANG," and it goes. Like having a fruitfly hovering in my face. I can't swat it to death, but it is only annoying, and it is driven off by the flick of my fingers.

But some days it's more like, I am tired, and I am in physical pain, and I am falling into despair, and I do not see what my next step is to handle any of *this* and 'this' is 'everything,' and a sweetly-scented presence comes up gracefully past my peripheral and loops her arms about me, and rests her silky head on my shoulder, and tilts her rosy lips to my ear, and in a quiet voice, she murmurs

"knife."

And she's holding me so carefully that there's no struggle. And she's soft and smells like lilac, and her voice is so gentle. "it wouldn't be more than five minutes. it would hurt, of course, but everything hurts, and then it would *stop.* all of it would stop."

And the thing is, absolutely nothing that she tells me is a lie. She learned a long time ago that lying to me puts me on defense, so now she only says things that are true. I am in pain. It would hurt for a little bit, it would hurt a lot, but then nothing would hurt ever again.

But she also doesn't tell a single comprehensive truth.

Because it *would* stop hurting--me. It would magnify my pain and cast it out in all directions, though. It would make my existence into a pipe bomb in the arms of every person who has ever so much as liked me. It would render me, worse than useless, actively dangerous to those close to me. It would make me into a sucking open wound in the chest of everyone I love.

Too high a cost.

I've been suicidal on and off since I was nine. I know by now that it's a chemical thing that my body is doing to itself. I have tools, occasionally weapons, to use to get it out past arm's length, sometimes an acre or two distant from me. Never gone. Always loping back and forth, muzzle low and snuffling, pacing the fence.

So when she comes to me, floral and kind, I can unwind her arms from my waist and push her away three feet or so. And then I can go bake something, or garden, or do pushups, or go for a walk, or listen to loud or quiet music, or play a game, or read a book, or take a shower (cold or hot) or start a craft, or clean up a mess, or make a mess. And, now in in other shapes, she grows more gauzy and distant. And then I can go fix the hole in the fence, maybe.

There are a lot of holes in the fence today. I expect there will be for some time. It's hard. My pulse has been up thirty or forty bpm since Tuesday night at ten, and I tire easily. The effort needed is much greater than usual. But I know it needs to be done.

I don't know what to do from here but wash the dishes. But at least I can wash the dishes. The other things will make themselves known to me in time.

[slaymitchabernathy]

Hiding & Seeking

“Stop,” she giggles, letting him know she wants nothing more than for him to keep going.

She can feel Coriolanus smile against the delicate skin of her neck, still peppering kisses up and down the column of her throat.

She knows he won’t leave any bruises. Not where others can see at least.

He likes to leave bruises in other places. Her breasts, her ass, right above her cunt.

“All for me,” he’d always drawl.

“All for you,” she’d always whisper.

Right now she’s all his and he’s all hers. Coriolanus gets busy during the week, he’s trying to do a million things at once and that means he can’t always spend time with her.

But Soarynn doesn’t mind. She just sits and waits patiently for him to come see her. Like a doll.

His grip on her waist tightens as she shifts on his lap, “Do you wanna play a game doll?”

Soarynn perks up at the mention of a game. Even though she’ll lose. She always loses to him. She’s horrible at cards, board games are always far too complicated and she despises social games like spin the bottle.

It’s a good thing Coriolanus suggests her favorite game.

“Let’s play hide and seek.”

Soarynn tilts her head, allowing him better access to her neck while she ponders how long she’ll have to hide. Sometimes Coriolanus can be sweet, and he’ll give her five minutes. Sometimes he can be mean, and he’ll give her ten seconds.

“I’ll give you one minute,” he says, as if reading her mind.

Soarynn nods, whimpering when he sucks a little hard than normal, “And I can hide anywhere?”

His hands squeezed her waist so hard she knows there will be bruises, “Anywhere,” he agrees.

It’s only a matter of seconds before he’s pushing her off his lap and she’s bounding down the hallway. Coriolanus has a rather large penthouse and Soarynn’s spent so much time here that she knows all the best hiding spots.

But that means he does too.

Sometimes he’ll stay in whatever room she left him in and wait a full minute. Other times he follows behind her. It’s a chase with him. Always has been, always will be.

It was a chase when he first set eyes on her. She was already his, she just didn’t know it yet. It was a chase to get her to go on a date with him, then another, then another. It wasn’t much of a chase to get her to be his girlfriend. Coriolanus has never had to try too hard with anything he sets his mind to.

Soarynn looks over her shoulder and her heart rate picks up when she locks eyes with her boyfriend. He’s following her, at a casual stroll. A stalk. He’s got that smirk he’s so well known for, his head tilted in amusement as he watches her run down the hallways of his ancestral home.

“Run and hide babydoll,” he croons.

Soarynn takes a right down a smaller hallway, this one leads to a variety of guest rooms and a small parlor.

She goes for the parlor.

There’s an empty fireplace in between two large, heavy mahogany bookshelves. And several arm chairs and a sofa. This room hasn’t been touched in years.

Soarynn hides in the fireplace.

It’s not dirty, she doubts it’s ever been used before. She can hear the telltale click of his shiny leather shoes, slowly making their way down the hallway.

She cranes her neck and watches his shoes disappear into one of the guest rooms. Her heart is beating so fast, like she’s his prey.

Soarynn lets out a small whimper after a few minutes have passed. She can’t hear him anymore which to some might seem like a good thing, but not to her. It means he’s figured it out.

Coriolanus Snow is a quiet and calculated man, carefully choosing when to weigh in on certain things and the same goes for when they play this silly little game.

It means he’s waiting. Waiting for her to make the first move. The first fatal move. He’s waiting for her to mess up. She always does. Always.

Eventually her back begins to hurt from the crouched down position she’s in, and her neck hurts and her feet hurt and she’s going to need to find a new hiding place.

If she can make it back to his bedroom, then she wins. That’s always been the rule with him, if she can slip through his claws and make it back to safety, she wins.

But she’s never won.

Maybe this is my chance, she thinks, slowly crawling out from her hiding spot.

Soarynn's quiet as she tiptoes across the room and sticks her head into the hallway. She looks to the left. No Coriolanus. She looks to the right. No Coriolanus.

She knows she doesn't have much time, that he's probably still in one of the guest rooms searching for her and she wastes no time in quietly padding down the hallway, her feet nearly slipping on the marble floor.

Soarynn's head is on a swivel as she makes her way down the main hallway to his bedroom where she just might win. She's so close she can taste it. The doors are still open. Even better.

A bright smile spread across her face as she reached the doors. Then it drops.

He's sitting on the bed.

His legs are spread, his hands pressed into the mattress as he leisurely looks her up and down as if he has all the time in the world. And he's got that smirk on his face when he sees how surprised she is. How scared she is.

Soarynn doesn't know what to do for a moment. She's frozen. Run, she thinks. She turns on her heel but his commanding voice stops her.

"Don't."

With her head hung low she slowly walks into his bedroom, towards where he's sitting before getting down on her knees in front of him.

Where she belongs.

His large hand comes down and pinches her chin, tilting her head up to look at him, "You did so well this time doll," he says with false sympathy dripping in his voice. His lips curl up further, "Too bad I'm always one step ahead of you hmm?"

If there was a way to describe Coriolanus and Soarynn's relationship, it would be just that. He's always been one step ahead of her.

"I really tried this time," she whispered, her eyes pleading as she looked into his piercing blue ones. Maybe she could get out of this, her punishment.

That's why she despises games. Because there's always a catch with Coriolanus, and if he catches you, then there's always a punishment not far behind.

He nods, "Of course you did," his thumb rubs her bottom lip and she opens her mouth without question, allowing his thumb to slip into her mouth, prying it open like a music box.

Coriolanus loves it when she sings for him.

"But my little doll isn't very smart, is she? Can't get too far without me finding you huh?"

His words hurt, cut through her like glass, pierce her skin like thorns on a rose bush. He's right. She's never been smart, she's always been so naive, so trusting with everyone. Including him. That's why it's so good he found her. At least that's what he tells her.

"No," she whispers, "I'm not very smart."

Coriolanus grunts in approval, his eyes flitting down to his pants where she can see how hard he already is for her. Soarynn thinks he gets off on these little games he likes to play with her. It's foreplay.

It's a mindfuck.

"Are you gonna be good for me and let me use my perfect little doll?"

"Yes."

He's pulling his pants down with haste, freeing his cock from his boxers all while she watches, motionless on her knees. It's not like she isn't used to this. Since they started dating he's always been so...forceful. He likes to make her take it. Watch her cry from overstimulation. Listen to her as she begs him to stop.

Her jaw goes slack the second he grabs his cock, she knows how this goes, how good dolls prepare their mouths for fucking.

Coriolanus is a big man. Everything about him is big. His hands, his teeth, his frame, his cock. It stretches Soarynn's lips as he slowly pushes it into her mouth, his other hand fisting her hair, holding her in place.

Soarynn squeezes her eyes shut as he slowly slides in, preparing for him to hit the back of her throat like he always does before he brutally fucks her throat for all it's worth.

"Open those pretty little eyes for me," he says in a sing-song voice.

Soarynn looks up at him and he slowly rises from the bed, looming over her as his cock sits heavy on her tongue. Her throat is going to be sore tomorrow morning.

It''s alright though, he''ll make her some tea. It's a good thing she has him to take care of her.

Coriolanus wastes no time in thrusting his cock in and out of her throat, listening to her gag as she tries to take his full length. It's a rather difficult task where Soarynn's concerned. Her mouth is small and his cock is big in length and girth. He's quite literally a mouthful and he knows it. Is proud of it. Loves to tease her about it. It's probably his favorite thing to do, teasing her comes so naturally to him. He can do it about anything. Her height, how small she is compared to him, how weak she is compared to him. How she can't live without his fingers in her puffy cunt, how needy she gets, how she can turn into a dog in heat after kissing for too long.

He's right though

"You always take me so well," he grits out, his thrusts becoming faster, his grip on her hair getting tighter. He's close, but that doesn't always mean he'll stop. And all Soarynn can do is sit there and take it.

She looks up at him, tears falling from her eyes, her mascara running down her pretty cheeks. He likes her best like this, pathetic and powerless. She likes it too. Sometimes.

She gags when the tip of his cock presses against the back of her throat, staying there as he finally tips over the edge. Soarynn digs her nails into the skin of her thighs while she tries not to move, tries not to pull herself off of him. She manages for about ten more seconds while his cum shoots down her throat. But then it hurts and he's not moving. Soarynn feels herself gag, then cough but he stays put.

Soarynn lets out a muffled scream, something you could barely hear with his cock shoved down her throat but he hears it. Finally, he lets go and Soarynn sinks to the floor, coughing and hacking, trying to suck in as much air as possible.

Tears fall onto the cold marble floor as she lies there, trying to collect herself. Dolls don't cry after all.

"It's too much," she croaks, looking up at him.

Coriolanus tilts his head as he watches his girlfriend struggle on the floor. He should be helping her, comforting her. "Get on the bed."

Soarynn glances at the bed, her bottom lip trembling before she resigns herself to another night of endless fucking. It's not too terrible, at the beginning at least. The end is where she's sobbing because she swears he's going to rip her apart.

And he sure tries.

He takes her from behind tonight, slipping right into her cunt without as little as prepping her. Why should he when she's always ready for him? Like a good doll should be.

Soarynn moans into the mattress as he pounds into her, his cock hitting that sweet spot inside of her every single time. He never fails to make her cum, to make her cry and quake with pleasure.

In the beginning, he'd been so sweet, so slow and patient. Caring. He'd been her first, and the look in his eyes as he slowly slid into her for the first time should've been a warning about how possessive Coriolanus Snow could be. He'd actually been proud when they finished and he found where she'd bled onto his white sheets. He smirked as he swiped a finger between her legs, finding it sticky with cum when he pulled it away, "Now you're covered in me and I'm covered in you," he'd said.

His hand on the back of her head pulls her back to the present where her walls are already tightening, "Is my doll already gonna cum for me? Gonna be my good little fuckdoll and cum all over my cock?"

Soarynn moaned in response, her hips meeting his with every thrust, "Yes! Yes, please, please let me cum, please, please," she cries, so close to her orgasm. But she won't cum until he tells her to do so.

Because she's a good doll.

He chuckles in her ear, "Ready to be filled up? To be stuck on my cock the entire night? I know you love it Soarynn, love being my little sex doll I can do anything with."

Soarynn's eyes roll to the back of her head when she feels his other hand on her clit. It's like he's trying to get her to cum. He's toying with her.

"Please," she gasps, "please, I love it, love being your doll."

She knows he likes it more than she does. Having control. Making her take load after load when he finishes inside of her and he always finishes inside of her. Loves bending her in all sorts of positions, trying to see which one will make her break. Loves bouncing her up and down, seeing how glassy her eyes get while her head lolls back and forth. So dumb with it already.

He sucks on her neck, it's going to bruise. "Cum for me doll, show me what you're good for. Tell me what good fuckdolls do."

Soarynn moans when she reaches her peak, her walls fluttering around his cock as her vision goes white. "They...they do what you tell them to," she gasps, knowing that if she doesn't answer him then it'll be an even longer, more painful night.

He grunts as he spills himself inside of her. The first one of the night she knows. "Your cunt was made for me Soarynn, it's perfect for my cock. No one else will ever fill you up the way I do. Understand?"

Soarynn nods because what else is there to do?

Arguing never works. He knows where to hit to make it hurt, what to say to make it sting. "Fucking stupid slut, good for nothing whore, so easy to dumb down, not a thought behind those eyes."

Those are the words that echo in her mind when she runs away from him. Hides from him. Breaks down and cries.

But then she always comes back to him. Seeks him out. Let him wipe away the years, kiss the bruises, bandage the cuts. That's how their relationship works best.

Hiding & Seeking.

| tumblr oneshot/drabble |

[scooburst]

So here’s everything you need to know about the current situation.

My whole phone is on lockdown. I’ve been told when it finally comes back, I’ll have to delete tumblr and discord. Hopefully I can use the website and get around it. My parents are looking at blocking it on my computer as well. I don’t think they can, but thier also monitoring it so I’ll have to be very careful. I have five minutes after 7:00 AM EST to be here before it’s over. Throughout the day, I will be on for one minute twice (two one minute sessions) just to check in. From there I might be able to answer one or two asks and quickly peak at my notifications. I’ll say in the mornings a few things; what happened yesterday, updates on the situation, and if I’m okay. That will be all I’ll be able to post. Sometimes if I have it at night, I’ll come on just to say goodnight or answer a few more asks. But again, it’s only a minute. I’m trying my best to stay calm for this but it’s not going great.

What exactly happened is a bit more complicated. I’ll recount it for you all just so it’s understandable. My parents at some point looked over my computer, which was logged into tumblr and discord, and decided I was talking to complete strangers and being dangerous. Yes I was talking to people online but I was being safe, and I don’t think they’d listen to that. But that isn’t exactly stopping me from talking to those “strangers”. I don’t think my parents really even see you people as humans that are good people. But. You know. I can’t fix that. So now my phone is locked down. I can only text them and one of my friends. I can use the bare essentials. All I know is at some point it’ll be unlocked, and I’ll have to delete these sites. I’ll try to plan for that best I can. But that’s essentially what’s going on.

As for the discord if anyone’s on that. The management of it is being handled by people I trust most there. Use it however you like, and to those two: Do whatever you want with it, but keep it free and open to anyone. All I want is for you all to continue making sure the people there are okay. I will pop in every day and say I’m alive, but really not much else. And yes I will read the messages, as much as I can.

Now that that’s over, onto the newly scheduled post.

Date of writing: 11/1/24

Am I okay: not really, but I’m alive and “healthy”

Things that happened: today, I have a hockey game, and we got evacuated early from school because of bomb threats. At home I kinda just walked around. I played a little bit of guitar, I’ve been listening to music and built legos. I’m doing some puzzles as well. I’m trying to take care of myself to hopefully get my parents to let me back here.

Log: today, I was taking the chance I had to look through my notifications. And I cried. At everything you all wrote to me. I’m going to miss you all so much. You all are such amazing people. I can’t say I didn’t think you’d all say that, but it still caught me off guard. Thanks. I’m glad you all are still going, as far as I know. Keep that going. Dying isn’t good for you! I also saw someone made a whole blog of days without me. That’s insane. I don’t know what to say to that. Hopefully, it doesn’t have to count to high. I’m gonna write your urls all down so I can visit you all when I can finally be back officially. I know this is all probably really confusing with me still responding to things, but it’s just a very complicated situation right now. It sucks tp not have things like this to vent and feel better, but I have started to keep a journal so I can place my thoughts somewhere and I’m going to eventually try to open up to one of my close irl friends to hopefully have someone to talk too. I’m probably never going to just move on from this, it’ll always be something I remember and maybe something that still hurts, but it’s still some of the best memories I’ve ever had even if I cry thinking about it. I’m doing my best here to distract myself, get back into reading, maybe slowly try to build my parents trust that I can handle my phone, even though I could already. But it’s fine. Ive found a lot of entertainment in the photos app recently. Maybe when I come back I’ll share it all with you. Sorry these posts are so long. I’m just trying to stay here as much as I can. But jsut know not to worry, becahse I’m still okay, and I’m alive. Apparently I’m going to be talked to about discord and tumblr. There is some hope I can stay, but we’ll see. Either way im a sneaky boi :)

The last thing I want to say is that whoever made that blog counting how long I’m gone, you are so appreciated. I appreciate all of you really. And all of you who’ve made a post tagging me about whatever experiences you’ve had with me or put it in my askbox, you’ve made me feel so much better about this just knowing I didn’t fuck it up with you. If you didn’t make anything like that, don’t feel obligated to. Just knowing you’re alive is the best thing for me right now. Stay safe, if not for yourself, for me, and if not for me, then for someone else. I’m doing the same for all of you.

ALSO! Ima probaly make a tag list for this so you can get this as soon as possible! I know this is almost becoming a newsletter but hey that works. So if you wanna be on it, just say so (preferably in a reply or reblog to this post, with nothing but that you want in, separate from any comments about the post itself. It helps!)

[save-the-villainous-cat]

Inspired by that previous snippet of yours, write one where in the bathroom Villian is taking care of their hero's numerous hickies they gave them all over their body? Post frickling frackling?

The villain’s fingers slid down the hero’s exposed back and even though the hero was a little more than just tired, their body flinched.

“Easy,” the villain murmured and the hero could see their eyes piercing into their back in the mirror. Subconsciously, the hero’s gaze fixed on the villain’s, observing with the same intensity the villain used to observe their back. Once they actually looked at each other through the reflection, the hero was quite flustered. “Sleepy?”

“Yeah,” the hero answered. The hero didn’t know where the villain got their stamina from but it was impressive to say the least. Most of the time, the hero fell asleep immediately but the villain could last several rounds and go after their day five minutes later.

Their fingers travelled down the hero’s back again.

“I overdid it.”

“I like it,” the hero said. “It’s like putting paint on a canvas.”

“You’re a masterpiece without my artistic efforts.” They kissed the hero’s shoulder very softly. “You don’t need me for that.”

The villain put their flat hand on the hero’s shoulder, trying to cover as much space full of hickeys. The hero felt the familiar warmth as the villain attempted to get rid of the blood beneath their skin with their powers.

As always, the villain traced the long, deep scar on the hero’s back. Sometimes it was distracting, especially when the villain was under them and the hero tried to concentrate. But the hero guessed it was their subconscious telling them to obey.

“You know that happened years ago, right?” Their shoulder got hot and the hero knew that was the only comfortable pain they had ever experienced.

“Hm?”

The hero reached the scar and let their fingers go over it.

“Oh, yeah…” The villain let go of their shoulder and found a new place to heal. “You were still so young.”

“You were young, too, you know. I forgave you.” The villain looked at the hero’s reflection and despite their attempted smile, they seemed to feel guilty.

It had been painful. To get stabbed in the back felt horrible but being betrayed? God, the hero hadn’t been able to leave their house for months. They hadn’t eaten, had barely slept…all of it had pulled them into a depression that sucked on them like a parasite. Forgiveness had taken its sweet time.

“You made a mistake. People make mistakes. Especially at seventeen,” the hero said. They wanted to take the villain’s hand but they knew they couldn’t reach it.

“We didn’t talk for years. We lost too much time,” the villain said. “I feel like all I can do is apologise over and over again but it doesn’t change anything.”

“Hey…” The hero turned around and hooked one finger into the villain’s pants to pull them closer. “We needed that time for ourselves. We didn’t lose anything.”

The villain didn’t seem to be satisfied with that answer.

“I hate hurting you,” the villain said. “I hate that I can’t heal that scar. I hate that…I hate what I did to you.”

“I’m not something broken you have to fix, darling,” the hero said. They smiled and cupped the villain’s face gently.

“I know…but I carved myself into you. I forced this onto you and it’s a reminder for both of us what kind of monster I used to be.”

“You have changed, though. And I forgive that kid who followed orders blindly because they were scared.” The hero stood up on their tiptoes, now the same height as the villain. “And there’s absolutely nothing you can do about it.”

They grabbed the villain’s jaw and kissed them very gently. Although they knew the villain needed more time, the hero would repeat these words for centuries if it meant that their partner would finally accept this.

[julilovesyou444]

the only exception ~ tom kaulitz

background: you and Tom had been hooking up for a while now, probably close to around half a year. you had a big crush on him but were very aware that he didn’t do relationships, so even though you were ‘physically’ with him, you never let yourself get super emotionally attached. Tom couldn’t say the same for himself, though. He wanted you, and only you.

warnings: nothing much just kissing and swearing lol

a/n~ sorry for being m.I.a!! I had to visit my dad in serbia and it sucked because I hate my dad and he hates me lolllll speaking of I wrote a fic that was requested where like the ready has daddy issues and tom like helps her through it but I think I made it wayyyy to like serious I think the word is? and its very long so I’m considering scrapping it idk, also I’m getting to all ur requests that I wanna do dont worry !!

~

“hello?”, i said, picking up my phone. it was tom, my long-term fling. I can’t remember exactly how I met him, or exactly how we started hooking-up. I had heard about his band before we met, and I thought they were cool, but i didn’t quite understand just how popular they were. Until after meeting Tom, i didnt know about his ‘reputation’ either. I didn’t know until after the first time we hooked up. He had made us trade numbers, and i was expecting a call at least a day or two after we had seen each other, but nothing. I decided to do some research, just to find out that the boy i was crushing on was in fact a hardcore player. A womanizer, if you will. Part of me wanted to never go out with him again, the smart part of me. But another part of me wanted him so badly, so overwhelmingly bad that I went with my heart instead of my head. I liked Tom, I really did. I couldn’t help it. But I didn’t want myself to get hurt, so I expected just about nothing from him. We fuck and then it’s over. Whenever he would ask me to stay the night or do any of that stuff, I would politely decline and leave. Sometimes we would go out and do non-sexual things, but they always ended sexual. I learned to become okay with that, and I ultimately stopped expecting us to do anything that was hooking up.

“Hey, are you busy?”, he asked.

“Hmm, i dont know, maybe, depends on why you’re calling.”, I teased. he chuckled.

“Uh-huh… well I was thinking, that if you’re free, I could take you out somewhere.”

“take me out, huh? is that code for fucking?”, this earned me another laugh.

“no, no, it can be, but I want to actually take you out.”, he chuckled.

“are you asking me out on a date?”, i asked, a little confused.

“…yes?”

I was quiet for a second, apparently a second too long.

“look if you dont want to, we don’t have to, I just thought-“, he started.

“no, no! sorry! I was thinking but yes, I’m free and we should go out!”, I interrupted. I heard him release a breath he was holding, probably one he didn’t intend for me to hear.

“okay, yea, cool. when can I pick you up?”

“hmm let’s say in about 30 minutes? does that work?”

“perfect.”

“mhm, I’ll see you then.”

“bye.”, he said just before I hung up.

tom kaulitz. taking me out on a date?? what????

I got up almost immediately and started to get ready. I wanted to look as cute as possible. I ran over to my wardrobe and searched through it for a good five minutes. I found this super cute, also pretty tiny, pleated denim skirt and this purple and black top that had a lot of lace detailing and these little puffy princess sleeves. I put on some jewelry, makeup, and these black boots I had. I left my hair down, i noticed that when I did, Tom always complimented it. I grabbed my purse and threw some gum, lipgloss, my phone, and my little digital camera in there.

I glanced at the clock and saw that he should be here any minute. I stepped outside and waited for about 3 minutes, which would’ve been fine, if it wasn’t as cold as it was. I didn’t feel like going back in, just in case he showed up right as i did. I was shivering a tiny bit and got some goosebumps, but to my relief, and pulled in front of my house not too much later. I got in, the warm air of his car heaters hitting me.

“shit, you look freezing. how long were you out there for?”, Tom asked, looking genuinely concerned.

“I’m cold but I’m fine.”, I laughed it off.

“okay, do you need a jacket or-“

“No!! I’m serious! I’m okay.”, I laughed some more.

“okay, okay! just checking.”, he smiled. I watched as his eyes did a quick scan over me.

“you look pretty. your hair looks really nice too.”, he said, his eyes averting back forward as he began to drive away.

“thank you. you don’t look too bad yourself.”

he playfully rolled his eyes but he couldn’t help but smile as well.

“sooo… where are we going?”, I questioned.

“you’ll see.”

“Oh, c’mon. I hate surprises.”

“You’ll like this one, trust me.”

I sighed and faced myself back forward. Some radio station was playing softly in the background as we raced down the highway.

the drive to the mystery place wasn’t far, only a 20 minute drive, which I filled with a lot of talking. mainly about random stuff, Tom telling a few jokes which never failed to make me laugh. He pulled into a parking lot which only had a few other cars. I looked around, it looked like we were at some kind of fancy park. A garden maybe? He leaned over the center console and grabbed something from the backseat.

Tom dropped a large black zip up jacket in my lap.

“My jacket, so you aren’t freezing your ass off the entire time.”

“Oh, thank you.”, i said quietly. He got out of the car and made his way to the back. I followed his lead, getting out of the car, putting on the jacket but not zipping it. I walked around to the back of the car where the trunk was open. There were two big woven picnic baskets. Tom grabbed both and I shut the trunk door as he began to walk off. I caught up with him.

“Do you want me to carry one?”, i motioned to the baskets.

“It’s okay, just follow me.”, he said, continuing his venture into the park. I followed close behind.

We didn’t walk for long, it was a really beautiful park. There were lots of flowers and little benches everywhere. Lots of really big and beautiful trees too. We stopped in front of this big pond, the water was so clear you could see the miniature fish swimming. there was a swan that swam around too.

Tom opened one of the baskets, revealing a big blanket. Without a word, I helped him spread it out over the fluffy grass. He sat down on it and patted the little space next to him, indicating for me to sit down as well. I did. He grabbed the other basket next to him and moved it to be in front of us. Tom opened it and inside were a ton of snacks. All of my favorites. I was shocked to say the least.

“Oh my god, how did you know?”, i said, mouth slightly agaped. He looked proud of himself.

“You mentioned some of your favorite snacks once or twice.”, he nonchalantly shrugged.

“This is lovely, Tom.”, I replied, sounding as genuine as I ever had. His eyes met mine and I gave him a little smile which he returned.

“What is all of this for?”, i added.

“Just wanted to do something nice for you, I guess.”, he mumbled and looked away.

I gently placed my hand over his, his head turned to mine.

“I appreciate it, I really do.”, i smiled. my thumb caressed his hand for a second.

“I like spending time with you, y’know? even when we’re not…”, he trailed off. I laughed, taking my hand off his, an action that didn’t go unnoticed by Tom.

I grabbed one of the many snacks he packed and started to eat. In between bites, I would ramble about different things. He always would just listen to me talk, admiring me as he did. This went on for a while. Tom started eating some. Somewhere in the midst of this, my position changed. I now had my head laid across his legs, my legs stretched out and my hair splayed all over his lap. i stopped eating and just started talking. Tom gazed down at me. Eventually he lit a cigarette and started smoking. He held the cigarettes between his pointer and middle finger, moving it down for me to take a puff. I did, peering into his eyes as I did so. They weren’t filled with their normal lust, but they looked like they had something else in them. I couldn’t figure it out.

Tom talked some too, mainly making crude jokes. I always laughed, no matter how stupid. I think he enjoyed that.

He took a hit and then leaned over, his mouth hovering over mine. I opened and allowed him to blow the smoke in my mouth. He sat back up and watched as slowly blew it out.

“I know this isn’t a normal thing to do when we ‘meet up’, but i really like it.”, Tom said, his fingers intertwined with the ends of my hair.

“Really?”, i asked. I knew for a fact he enjoyed my body, but I wasn’t aware he liked spending time with me when we weren’t doing one another.

“yea… why’s that so shocking?”

“Um, i dont know. I guess I thought you really only wanted sex from me.”

“Oh.”

“Yea..”

“Uh, I guess that’s just what I wanted at first. But the more I started seeing you, the more I wanted to see you again.”

“Oh?”

“Yea, and whenever I would invite you to stay over or do anything like that, you would always say no. Kind of assumed you were the one who only wanted me for sex.”

“I don’t, I just assumed you were trying to be polite or something. It’s stupid, I guess.”

“No, it’s not. At this point, you know me and you know the reputation I have, so i understood why you thought that.”

“Sorry…”, I muttered, feeling a little embarrassed.

“Don’t be sorry.”

We sat in silence for a few moments, but it wasn’t awkward.

“I was thinking about maybe doing this kinda thing more often with you, I mean, we can still do our normal things we do, but maybe we can start doing more of this too.”

“What? Like go on dates?”, i furrowed my brows.

“Yea, something like that.”

“I feel like that’s something only couples do.”, i sorta laughed. He was quiet, which made me sit up, I looked over at him. He was staring at his lap in my absence.

“Is that… not a possibility?”, he murmured.

“But… I thought you dont do commitment? and relationships?”

“Yea, i dont usually.”

“I can’t go on dates with you and act all boyfriend-girlfriend unless you are actually going to commit. I’m not going to do that to myself, Tom. I can’t let myself get hurt like that.”, i said quietly but sternly. I had to be sensible, i didn’t want to be just another girl that got fooled by Tom Kaulitz.

“I know, but i want to try.”, he looked up at me with pleading eyes.

“What changed? What’s different now than from when I first met you?”, I asked, still unsure.

“I hate talking about my feelings.”, he huffed.

“I’m not gonna judge you or anything, I just need to know.”

“You changed me. You did. I didn’t want to date any of the girls I hooked up with for one night because they just weren’t worth it and they didn’t mean that much to me. You’re one of the only girls I’ve consistently seen for more than a month. I haven’t gotten with any other girl than you for like 4 months. I don’t know what it is about you, but I can’t ignore it. And I want more of you. More than just the physical aspects. Dont get me wrong, I love those parts of you too, but i want you for more than just your body. Dude, I can’t stop saying stupid ass jokes to you just because I want to hear your laugh. So yeah, I haven’t ever really commited before because I didn’t really do relationship. But, for you, it’s different. You are the only exception.”

“What? Really? I had zero idea you felt that way at all…”, I replied, astounded.

“Well I do feel that way and have for a little while now.”

“You aren’t playing with me, right?”, i asked, still not believing it.

“Really?? I practically just confessed myself to you and you still don’t believe me?”

“Okay, I’m sorry! You’re right, this was just, unexpected from you.”

“So… what do you think?”

“I want you too, Tom.”, I managed to say. A smile grew on his once nervous face. He cupped my face in his hands and began to lean in.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Mhm.”, i responded. He kissed me so passionately, I felt like I was floating. My hand went to his jaw, my thumb subconsciously tracing little hearts on his lower cheek. I could feel him smile into the kiss. I pulled away, my forehead still connected with his. I started giggling a little, looking away and hiding my face.

“Oh, c’mon. Dont be shy, now.”, Tom pulled my back towards him so I was leaned against his frame, his arms wrapped around my torso. He left little kisses on the top of my head.

“Wow.”

“Hm?”, he hummed.

“Can’t believe I was your only exception.”, i said with a cocky smile in attempt to poke fun at him.

I could feel him roll his eyes.

“Uh-huh, whatever. Its true.”

“I kinda never thought this day would come.”, i said, my finger trailing up and down his, that rested on my stomach.

“Yea, me too, I guess. But I’m glad that it did.”

I smiled, turning my head around to kiss him again.

A new beginning.

His first real relationship.

It was me, I was his only exception.

Something about that phrase made me feel like the most special girl in the world.

~

[nonbinarybrainstorm]

Can I request for tfa swindle and a GN human reader who made a deal with him,,,, nsfw oneshot please!

What're they buying? It doesn't matter.

Additional content: oral, anal, size difference

They wait in the dim light of the alleyway, the hood of their hoodie pulled over their head to obscure their features as their eyes flick over the street barren of all life except for the occasional car passing by. As the minutes tick by, they become more and more nervous with a hand clutching the wad of cash in their front pocket with a vice grip.

“So you came after all…”

The smooth voice sends a jolt of electricity up their spine and they whirl around, their heart beating out of their chest as their eyes land on a man dressed to the nines in a gold-colored silk suit and what looks like a million in ice on his fingers. Purple eyes that seem to almost shine in the hazy light of the street lamps look over the heavy frames of gold-gilded sunglasses. His very aura oozes sleaze as he leans back on his similarly colored jeep which is oddly clunky compared to the man but likely filled with all manner of contraband.

“Y-yeah, I’m here… It’s Swindle, right?”

He tucks his thumbs in his pockets and nods.

  “Do you have it?” they manage to stutter out as their eyes flick around nervously, still not sure how he managed to sneak up on them in a jeep of all things.

Swindle pulls out the simple USB from his pocket, such a little, innocuous thing but it’s the answer to all their problems, “You good for it?”

Slowly, they slide the slim wad of cash so that it just peeks out for him to get a good view of it.

His eyebrows flick up, clearly amused, thankfully amused instead of annoyed by them and he huffs a soft chuckle, “All the way out, if you wouldn’t mind…”

They slip it out into plain view only to hold their breath as he steps over to them with a casual swagger like this is just a regular Tuesday for him, it probably is… He reaches out and they do their best not to flinch as he thumbs the bills and clicks his tongue, shaking his head as he pulls away.

“Not enough,” Swindle sighs, grinning to reveal teeth with gold-tipped canines when they gawk at him.

“Not enough?? This is five gr-,” they cut themself off and lean in closer to hiss, “This is five grand just like we agreed.”

“Circumstances change, sweetheart,” he shrugs, “These files were a might harder to snag than expected, one of my guys got hurt and needed some patching up; that’s just how the business goes sometimes…”

They grimace and glance at their phone to see the time and sigh, “Hypothetically, how much more are we talking here?”

The dealer sucks a breath in through his teeth and they swear he’s enjoying this, “Oh, a measly five-hundo ought to do it.”

“Five hundred?!”

“Oh come on, if anything I’m giving you a discount… gunshot wounds don’t come cheap, you see,” Swindle grins like the Devil himself, sliding into their space like oil on paper.

“I can’t just come up with that right here right now. Can’t I owe you, or something?” cold sweat begins to run down the back of their neck.

His grin smooths out into something flat and lifeless, sending a chill through them, “You can’t call one of your buddies or something?”

They stare at him for a long moment, terrified as they remind themself he might be armed as their thoughts freeze and they can’t think of any way to get what he’s asking for. Seeing this, he sighs and moves away to turn back to his gaudy jeep, waving to them over his shoulder.

“Well, that’s too bad, I was rather looking forward to this payday…”

They tense, breath caught in their lungs as the USB quickly slips away from them and everything they were hoping to find along with it.

“W-wait!”

Swindle stops in his tracks and glances back at them, those purple eyes glaring into their soul.

“I… Can I pay… some other way?”

His lips part softly, momentarily speechless, and then he scoffs, “You don’t know what you’re offering, sweetheart.”

“Look, I get that I might not be your type but I’m desperate here, okay?” they step a bit closer, not brave enough to cross the full divide.

He sighs and then to their astonishment, flickers out of existence before the jeep starts to move on its own, its pieces shifting and whirring out of places with the soft hiss of pistons breaking up the strange buzz of different mechanisms. Before them suddenly stands a being, an entity the likes of wish they’d never seen before with glowing, purple lights for eyes set in a metallic face atop a boxy yet sleek body that was clearly once in the shape of a jeep. They stare at Swindle with their mouth open wide in shock. With that same voice, albeit more modulated now, he chuckles and leans down to carefully close their mouth with a broad, metal digit.

“You sure about this now?”

They swallow and whisper, “If you’re open to it… sir.”

“Ha! You know what? I like you…” he pulls back, propping himself up on a nearby wall, “...and I guess you’re an alright height for it.”

They blink and watch Swindle get to his knees, motioning for them to come closer with the slow curl of his fingers and a smirk on that metallic face. At his beckoning, they approach him, caught in a daze by his alien form and getting almost… excited. 

He tilts their chin up gently, “How about this? You do a good job and hand over that five-k afterward and we’ll call it even.”

They swallow and nod only to gasp as, suddenly, the metal plates at his crotch move apart to reveal a thing made of metal and mesh that pushes out of its housing segment by segment with lights that flash all along it. For a moment, they’re mesmerized by the pulsing thing that’s quickly broken by the alien dealer pulling them forward so their face is just a breath away.

“Well,” he looks them over with a cocky grin, “get to it.”

Steadying themself, they reach out tentatively, running a hand up the length of what they can only describe as a robo-penis, surprised to find that it’s warm to the touch and more malleable than they expected. They slowly run their hand up and down over the mesh and strips of light that seem to make it twitch every time their fingers run over them so they pay more attention to those, bringing up their other hand so they can rub his cock along both sides, their fingers barely tapping together. Leaning forward, they lick the head to be met with a zap of static that makes them gasp in surprise, pulling away for a second before moving back in, lapping at the head as they stroke him. They close their mouth over the head of his dick and press their tongue into the divet there, finding that he just tastes of metal and ozone which isn’t too bad in their opinion.

Heat begins to pool between their legs as they continue to lick and stroke him, the feeling of Swindle’s spike firm yet pliable between their hands as something electric makes it feel like it's gently buzzing against their tongue. Their cheeks flush with embarrassment, hardly believing they’re getting excited from sucking on an alien robot’s cock but even just that thought makes them shudder ever so slightly. There’s a smell similar to over-heating electronics and they open their eyes to glances up and they go still in surprise at the sight of his eyes flaring bright as he bites his hand hard, staring down right at them.

“Hm?” they hum curiously, keeping their mouth on him as they feel him shiver, his plates clanking together softly.

“I didn’t tell you to stop…”

They shut their eyes again at that, sucking a bit on the head of his cock as they squeeze a bit while stroking him, pulling their lips off of him with a pop before running their tongue along the strips of light. A hand lands on their head, petting them gently as they continue their work, urging them on. Panting, they lap at him while thumbing that divet in the head of his dick until their hands are pulled away, making them look up at Swindle with a gulp.

“I think there’s been enough foreplay,” he vents out and they can feel the heated air wash over them as he cradles them and pulls down their pants, “Let’s get to the good part…”

They shiver as he paws at their ass, spreading their cheeks so he can rub over their entrance.

“W-wait, but I thought you just…” they cut themself off with a moan as he gently presses a bit into them.

“Relax, sweetheart.”

He works them slowly, spreading them open with a surprising amount of care until they’re a mewling mess in his hands held just a few feet from the ground. They moan in protest as he pulls his finger away only to yelp as they feel him press his metallic cock against their entrance.

“Just breathe…”

Nodding, they grip his arms as he slowly pushes into them, making them shake at the sheer pressure as he slips into them segment by segment until they feel fuller than they ever thought possible. Their head lolls back as their legs twitch, overwhelmed by the sensation of his massive dick pulsing inside of them, that same strange charge feeling like it’s connecting directly to their nerves, making them go haywire. Swindle stays still inside them for a long moment with the sound of fans buzzing in the air, covering up their weak, little moans until something… gushes. The squeak as something warm and slick blooms inside them, feeling weirdly good as it eases the tension inside them and smoothes out the path Swindle’s spike took.

“Did… did you?”

Swindle shakes his head, “Just… hah, pre-fluid, don’t get your hopes up…”

“That’s not…” they shut themself up, blushing darkly at the thoughts swirling in their head. This doesn’t need to get any weirder.

He moves, finally, and they keen as the shallow ridges of his dick rub inside them, the odd fluid making it feel all the sweeter with a soft buzz like local anesthesia. Writhing helplessly in Swindle’s hands, they hold on as he uses them like a living cocksleeve with deep breaths as he moves almost too slowly like he’s afraid of breaking them. They wish he’d move just a little faster, the stretch of his spike achingly good but the touch of it is teasing almost to the point of agony, turning their mind into a cloud of fog. That strange buzz increases gradually in rolling waves, overwhelming their nerves and making every touch of his cock inside them feel heightened. No one’s ever fucked them like this before…

The heat within them builds gradually, their body getting tighter and tighter with each pleasant bloom of sensation that has them letting out incoherent noise and saying things completely out of their control. This liquid pleasure he’s pumping into them doesn’t form into a sudden peak but builds and builds like he’s forcing them into a corner until their mind goes blank and they go totally still, overwhelmed by the energy and heat coursing through them until they go limp in his hands. They shudder and keen weakly as Swindle quickly slides out of them, grunting as he holds them close to his chest and they feel his spike bump against their butt as he releases over the ground.

It takes a second, but once he’s done he pulls them away and they immediately miss the warmth of his body. They squeak as he cleans them with a cloth that he pulled out of… somewhere. Gathering themself, they pull their pants back up with an awkward cough, unable to meet his eyes.

“Well, I can’t say that I’m disappointed,” Swindle rolls his shoulders, looking them over out of the corner of his eye, “you still got the cash?”

Without any delay, they rummage through their pocket and pull out the stack of bills that’s now slightly out of its bind, handing it over as he passes them the USB.

“Pleasure doing business with you…” Swindle stretches out his neck cables as he steps past them and transforms back into a jeep, driving off down the dimly lit road.

They look down at the USB, still a bit in a daze, and spot the puddle of… something on the ground.

Holding their head, they murmur, “What the fuck just happened?”

[amelia-jane-writes]

Sometimes I'm okay pt1

Sorry if this sucks, it's my first work on here. Also its set during that episode in season 2 where Derek's in jail.

tw: swearing, jail, mentions of death ig

Derek Morgan was in deep shit.

First off, he had been in Chicago for the past few days and hadn't came to say hello to you at all. In fact, he seemed to have been avoiding your area of town all together. Secondly, he was sat in a prison cell.

The first point could be explainable. You'd had an argument before he left last year. You weren't in the wrong, but maybe you hadn't been in the right either. He just wanted you to move with him to wherever it was that he lived. To this day you still didn't know why you'd said no.

You had walked very calmly -not at all- right up to where Carl was conversing with the detective.

"Where in the hell is he?" You asked. The detective didn't like me much, but he didn't like many of the kids in the area.

"Alright, just wait one second lady, you can't just storm in here and start demanding things."

You just rolled your eyes, knoeing that the detective owed you. "I want to see him."

Carl spoke up. "I understand that you're upset, we all are. I mean, Derek never seemed like the kind to do this."

You stared at him for what felt like a god few minutes but in reality was just a couple of seconds.

"Carl you listen to me, you are ten times more likely to have murdered those boys than he is." You turned back to the detective, ignoring the burning feeling of eyes on your back. "And I said that I wanted to see him."

"I'll see what can be done."

He walked away, using his brain for once. You turned towards the group of people eying your back, not at all in the mood to be dealing with cops.

"The hell are you staring at?"

A few of them made themselves look busy, as if they hadn't been staring. A tall lady with dark hair came closer though, and asked, "Do you know Derek Morgan?"

"You could say that. Why? Who are you?"

"I'm Special Agent Emily Prentiss, I'm on the same team as Morgan in the FBI. If you could tell us anything that would help with proving his innocence then that would be amazing."

"I can't tell you anything darling, just that the detective knows damn well that it wasn't Derek."

Anything she would have said then was cut off by the detective returning, grabbing you arm and saying, "Five minutes. Make it fast."

You stepped into the interrogation room, it was a few degrees colder than the outside, and spotted Derek sat against the wall.

"Derek." It would've been comical how he jumped but instead it was just concerning since he was FBI. He quickly stood up and came towards you, but stopped himself before he got too close.

"(Y/N)," He said and you couldn't tell if the tone in his voice was one of relief or something else, something more panicked. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Better question Derek, why are you sat in a cell? And I only have five minutes so you better make it fast."

He sighed running a hand across his face. "They think I killed those boys. Happy? Now get out."

"No. I also want to know why the hell you've been coating me for the past year. Like I know that we argued but Jesus."

"I was busy. The FBI doesn't give many days off. Besides im sure this placce hasnt been too bad. How's life treating you here in dear Chicago baby? Hmm? Bet you wish you'd taken me up on my offer now."

You took a step closer to him. That hurt a bit. He knew exactly why you needed to get out of here and it was the people. You hated them. In truth, you did wish that you'd moved wish him and away from here, but you would never admit that.

"You're being very mean to me today Derek. Why's that?"

He just sighed again before coming closer and whispering, "Come on, you know that that detective will spin anything he can to get you arrested. This? You're plotting what to do since I got caught."

You didn't speak for a moment, no words were needed. Then, "Who do you think it was?"

He just looked at you in a way that told you everything you needed to know. "They're trying to dig into my past baby. You can't let them."

You hesitated, tripping over your words and bringing up a hand to rest on his cheek. "Maybe, just maybe, it'll help."

"(Y/N). Please. Help me out here."

"So what do you want me to do? Stick around or get out of here."

He smiled even though it wasn't funny. "Just stick around. Ask them if you can help then go home. I'll drop by when I get out. I promise."

"You gotta pinkie promise or it isn't trustworthy."

He grinned, this time he seemed happier, and held out his hand with an extended pinkie and you hooked mine with his. Then a guard came back into the room and told you that you had to leave.

You smiled back at Derek then followed the guard, with a backwards glance to try see him through closing doors.

Pt2 soon