#thank you for the ask anon!! and again sorry it took a bit^^;

[dandysworld-meh-imagines]

very sorry, I accidentally requested when it wasn’t open, but since it is now I know you might have deleted my ask so I will say it again

if your comfortable doing so, could we have like a twisted Razzle and Dazzle seeing twisted reader again (angst) or if your not comfortable writing for RnD, same concept but with twisted Astro?

Twisted Razzle & Dazzle Seeing Twisted Reader Again!

Hey, dear anon! No worries, I'm not mad or anything! I won't delete requests anymore unless I deny them. If your request is at the bottom of my pinned post, it means I'll get to work on it eventually and it's accepted!

Aughh, I love writing for twisteds!! And angst too? Mhmm!! Count me in! I like this scenario a lot! I'm becoming more and more comfortable writing angst, hehehe! Here you go, dear anon! Thank you for requesting! <3

-Anna

-It hurt them to separate their heads so they would stick together as they sit on the floor, not wanting to open their eyes or wanting to move, having tied themselves down like that. They would close their eyes and take deep shaky breaths as they rocked back and forth. It was enough to calm them down, trying to focus on other things rather than the pain the ichor was giving them. They both lost half of their faces so they stuck together their heads for each other, so that they feel at least a bit normal for once.. like they haven't lost anything.

-They would get aggressive when a twisted made noise or run in the circle they have created without knowing themselves, as if wanting others to stay away from their safe space. The anger from wanting others to stay out of their comfort zone was strong enough that they send sharp red vines to push them out of there or injure them SO good that it made them run away, teaching them a lesson and not disturb them ever. Silence calms them down, even letting them close their eyes and doze off so they won't feel the pain as much.

-Oh, but when YOU stepped into the circle a bit too loud on accident, their eyes opened immediately and they got up, shaking a lot as they shot a vine towards the direction of your footstep with pure anger but they stopped it immediately once they saw who it was... It was you, but as a twisted. Their eyes observed your twisted form as the vine retreated to the ground slowly, their anger was replaced with something else. They made their hands a tight fist as they felt miserable.

-All they could do was stare at you with the usual intense red eyes of theirs, they felt ichor run down their cheeks as they started crying. Razzle's smile becoming a frown and Dazzle opened his mouth like he wanted to say something but nothing came out, the ichor had destroyed them completely, their thoughts, their bodies as they felt negative emotions like there was no tomorrow. They watched as you took steps back slowly, understanding that this specific zone will hurt you more alongside the ichor to pass safely.

-Sometimes you needed to pass through, so you tried to be quiet, seeing as dead silent made them calm down. While the ichor has destroyed your thought process a lot, at least you could understand somewhat some things such as this. It seemed to work and sometimes you accidentally stepped a bit too loud during the end and made them stand up as they shook, looking over at you silently, observing your every single movement. Sometimes you stayed and they sat down again, gripping their shirt tightly as they tried taking deep breaths as they split their heads apart.

-Sometimes you left without looking back, only caring to pass through and not disturb them and they would just watch as you got out of their sight and they shook, oh they shook alright as some ichor tears fell out. Small glimpses of memories of you hanging out with them would come into their minds and they might get even more aggressive as they try gripping the spot that hurt the most on their heads, shaking and grunting, trying to make it stop. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts and they don't want to deal with it, they want silence.

-It would happen a lot when they kept seeing you more and more, they had a feeling that you were someone very important to them but then pain followed and they didn't know what to do, often breaking down crying as they hoped it would pass fast. They knew you were the cause but something in them didn't want to hurt you at all and they didn't know why at all. It made them frustrated as tears would blur their vision, what was with you..?! They didn't know!!

-But one time, you happened to pass by when they were super frustrated. They thought it was another twisted on this floor and shot vines in your direction as they had their eyes closed, gripping their heads from all the pain but their eyes became open immediately when they heard your cries and looked in your direction, big frowns in both faces as ichor fell on the floor from you. You had fallen down as your leg was injured and it hurt a lot, you cried as it hurt and they froze completely after they realized fully what they had done.

-They could only watch as you got up and made a run for it and that's when they realized that they were crying again. They tried to yell for you as their hands reached out and they walked towards your direction but they couldn't move that far, being tied down on the floor and all. They weeped as their legs gave out, hiding their faces in shame from hurting you. They could always try to untie themselves but it was so hard when they felt so weak after all this time.

-So they could only stay there, next to the small pile of ichor from YOU. They can always hug their knees again as they rocked back and forth, taking deep breaths, they can always sit in an opposite direction so they can't see it but the fact that it's right there on the floor will never leave their poor minds. They never shot another vines to anyone else ever again, they were shaking more and were more paranoid, not wanting to hurt anything and anyone. They just want to be alone, so they don't hurt you and to minimize the pain as much as possible. They didn't know if you will ever get close to them ever again as they only stared at the floor, trying to calm down for minutes, hours, days, you name it.

Thank you for reading! <3

[melverie]

if you get this, answer w/ three random facts about yourself and send it to the last seven blogs in your notifs. anon or not, doesn’t matter, let’s get to know the person behind the blog! (sorry if you already got this!)

Sorry it took a bit to answer anon. College and work have been killing me these past few days^^;

01 - I speak five languages (German, French, English, Japanese and Korean) at varying levels of proficiency. I actually had my Korean final yesterday and I'd say it went pretty well 👀 Also I learned Italian for a while, though I only remember some basic phrases, how to say one idiom & how to flirt

02 - Ever since the Sins of Flesh update I've been SO obsessed with Cult of the Lamb again. These past few days the game icon just kept staring into my soul while I was trying my best to stay strong and focus on studying Speaking of being obsessed over games, once the new Professor Layton game releases I'm going to be SO annoying. Those games were my childhood :)

03 - When planning out a story, I have the habit of writing the plot details out on flashcards and putting them up on my walls. I get embarrassed over it whenever someone other than a select group of friends come over though, so when someone else visits I usually end up taking them down only to hang them back up once that person is gone lol

Bonus fact!

This one is probably going to MASSIVELY wrap everyone's view of me, but I feel like half of the more creative school work I submitted ended up being fandom related:

In eighth grade, we were supposed to write a two page long story about a murder case, and I just made it a Professor Layton x Phoenix Wright crossover. I even took one of the cases from Phoenix Wright as the base for my story, and I only barely changed the names, so you could EASILY tell that it was fanfiction

I got my English teacher to watch Assassination Classroom because we had to give a 3 minute presentation on something we liked. That's the same teacher that made one of his tests entirely about Batman btw, he was great <3 I also got my math teacher to watch the anime AND read the manga because I asked him about one math problems from it that I just didn't get. He wrote down the solution and literally programmed a little something to help me better understand how to get there. Another great teacher <3

Had to write a three-word story (you're given three words as prompts and have to built a short story around them), except one of the words was "chinchilla". I ended up writing about a "killer chinchilla" which is just the nickname my sister gave Minccino

I once ended up the state winner in a nation-wide art competition with a Pokémon ORAS-themed watercolor drawing I did (that piece was graded, so I'm counting it toward school work)

We were tasked with drawing a picture inspired by a song. I took My Hero Academia's first ED and made the drawing itself about My Hero Academia as well. Burnt through way too many pencils for this one. They hung it right next to the teachers' room, idk if it's still there tho

That same year we were also tasked with "building a creative trash can", and so I decided to make a little Korok that collects paper waste in a little bag. I also learned how to sew in order to make the bag, so that's cool (pic below!)

I somehow convinced my teacher to let me write my seminar paper on My Hero Academia

In elementary school, my friend group came up with a play set in Animal Crossing, and I ended up writing the entire thing (as in literally writing it so that you could act it out in Animal Crossing itself). That wasn't school work by any means, but regardless, I still very much did print it out just so I could give it to my homeroom teacher, so there's that

Also not school work, but once again in seventh grade I wrote an Animal Crossing New Leaf fanficiton (???) where you could vote what would happen next on the end of every chapter. A good portion of my class read it and I also made my PE teacher read the first chapter

That's by far not all of it but those were the first few things that popped into mind. Anyway, here's the pic of my little Korok paper waste collector!

[dootznbootz]

I just wanted to say your Penelope/odypen content is so comforting to me. Especially when I see really bad Epic/the Odyssey takes. Just today I saw someone say that Penelope was Odysseus’s second choice after Helen and it made me SO MAD!! Like not only is it devaluing their connection (as if there isn’t an entire word made to describe it) but saying that Helen was “out of Odysseus’s league” feels insulting to both? Like not only is Odysseus not enough but Penelope is also the lesser of two options. As if she couldn’t be amazing on her own. I love your takes and how they’re both equals in the relationship. Penelope isn’t just some prize Odysseus comes home too.

Sorry for the rant, but I really love your content!

AAAA thank you so much 😭 I'm so honored that you find my silly goobers comforting!!! 🥹

And I totally get what you mean with like, bad takes!!! ;~; Like folks getting all weird with Odysseus wanting Helen first and/or HELEN wanting Odysseus first (as though Helen didn't see that big, autistic, blond man with big, brown eyes and didn't immediately think "MINE!" Childhood friend like in my stuff or not)

I've seen folks try to say that Odysseus made the olive tree bed with HELEN in mind which...No. Olives are Athena's thing and Athena watches over BOTH Penelope and Odysseus. Why would he do that for Helen??? Like, in my stuff I have it where it's like 3-4 months between the Oath of Tyndareus and Odysseus asking for Penelope's and the race with Icarius, so Odysseus was on Ithaca carving it for Penelope during that time for her. (Icarius being snarky as well to be like "hey, I'll even let you get some practice time.")

Like, Helen IS wonderful. She's my silly, sparky girl. <3 but yeah, My guy is ace/demi and didn't feel anything with Helen in that way. (Helen has an "aura" about her but Odysseus didn't feel it romantically/sexually. They're friends. He just thought "waow. O_O You're cool/have freaky eyes...Anyways~ Could you be my wingwoman for Penelope? Please?")

[leifygreeens]

Hello, I was wondering if I could request Kent x Reader if you don’t mind since you said requests are open? The dynamic being an oblivious farmer who is just very polite and unaware as fuck while Kent is basically just like “I would both kill and die for you” (I apologize I am completely obsessed with him)

I don’t personally feel anything but platonic fondness for the rest of the townies, so this was a really nice challenge. It did take me forever to write because it gave me a lot of trouble and I kept rewriting it, but I eventually landed on this and I’m pretty pleased with it. They’re both dumb, but they figure themselves out by the end. I really hope I did your prompt justice, anon, and that maybe it was worth the wait! Enjoy! <3

Warnings: 2650-ish Words. No infedelity: hefty canon divergence. GN!Farmer. A little suggestive, knowing and oblivious flirting, drinking, cursing.

Kent swirls the scotch in his glass, watching the amber liquid slosh around with the ice. It’s Friday night, half-past seven p.m., and the saloon is lively and bright. He’s been people-watching since he arrived, settled alone in his little corner. Marnie and Lewis still haven’t figured out their shit, Robin is attempting to teach Demetrius to dance without stepping on her toes once again, and Elliott is lamenting his writer’s block to Leah at the table over.

Same old, same old.

“Evening. This seat taken?” The Farmer asks, a nearly-empty drink in hand and a knowing grin on their face. 

Except for this. This is a relatively new development.

Kent smiles up at them. “You know it isn’t.”

“Just in case.” The Farmer settles down on the stool next to him, the legs of their newly claimed chair screeching terribly against the worn down hardwood of the saloon. His heart tries to leap out of his throat and into their careful, calloused hands, but he swallows it down with another sip of liquor. It burns his throat terribly, but he welcomes the distraction.

“I haven’t seen you at the saloon in a while,” Kent says, his voice rough from the alcohol. They take a sip of their own drink—something deep red and fruity, with a cherry sitting at the bottom of their glass.

“I try to take a little break at least once a week, but last week was hectic as hell.” They sigh, a satisfied smile on their lips as they sit back.

“Yeah? You get a lot of work done on the farm?” Kent asks, openly checking them out as they set their drink down and stretch their arms high over their head. A few months ago he would’ve been more discreet, but now he’s given up entirely on subtlety. The Farmer never notices anyway. The face they make as they stretch has his mouth going dry, and he drinks a too-large sip of his scotch, trying not to make a face about it.

“Before the snow hit, yeah, but now there isn’t really anything for me to do. Winter doesn’t make it easy for crops, so I’ve been collecting other things to sell. Animal products, gems, that sort of thing.” The Farmer settles down, done with their stretching, and Kent silently thanks the universe for giving him a break. “Actually, I was in the desert today. I haven’t been to the skull caverns in a while, so I spent most of the day down there.”

He immediately rescinds his gratitude, and sets his glass down with a sharp thunk.

“You went to the caverns?”

The Farmer nods, shrugging a bit as their mouth twists into a frown. “Yeah, but it wasn’t a great run, if I’m honest. A few gems and geodes. I wanted iridium ore, but there was basically nothing. I only got three nuggets from what was there because I spent so long beating back monsters.”

That last bit has Kent’s blood running backward, and he taps his fingers on the table-top, the beat agitated and quick. “That’s unfortunate.” 

The Farmer snorts. “Yeah, tell me about it. I could’ve gotten more done if I just stayed home, honestly. But it’s my fault for going on a bad luck day.”

He doesn’t know what the fuck that means, if he’s honest, and he’s not particularly superstitious himself, but he’s learned not to question them. Except now the thought of the Farmer being overrun by monsters won’t dissipate, and it’s making his stomach turn. He clenches his jaw. 

“You should bring me with you next time.”

The Farmer looks up at him, their eyes wide and stunned for only a moment before they’re chuckling into their glass. “Yeah? You wanna be my good luck charm, Kent?”

Yoba, he does.

The Farmer licks their lips clean, and whatever juice Gus mixed up with their alcohol has stained their lips and tongue a ruddy red.

He leans forward, propping his chin up on the palm of his hand, and smiles. “I could be.”

They laugh outright, bright and delighted. Kent absently notices the quick glances they’re receiving from the other patrons. Nosy.

“You know, I was talking with some of the ladies at Caroline’s aerobics class on Tuesday,” the Farmer starts, rolling the stem of their glass between their pinched fingers. Their smile is soft. “They said something interesting about you.”

Kent raises an amused eyebrow. “You gossiping about me, Farmer?”

“It was against my will, I assure you.” They deadpan, and Kent laughs, covering his grin with a wide palm.

“Enlighten me, then: what trivia did they bestow upon you against your will?” Kent asks.

“They said you never smile unless you’re with me,” The Farmer says quickly, rushed out in one breath like they can't say it fast enough. Kent’s eyes widen, and he’s pretty sure there’s steam rising from the top of his head, but the Farmer doesn’t catch any of it because they refuse to look at him. “And that I’m the only one who’s been able to make you laugh, since you came back.”

They were gossiping like roosting hens, the lot of them. Kent sighs heavily, harsh and a little embarrassed. How can they see it, but not the Farmer?

Still…

“They’re wrong, actually.” Kent straightens up, pushing his near empty glass aside. 

“Yeah?” The Farmer asks, and Kent doesn’t try to think too hard about why they sound so disappointed, or why they’re fighting back a frown.

“Even before getting drafted, I wasn’t like this.” Kent admits, and he can feel the tips of his ears flushing hotly at what he’s about to confess next. “I’ve never been like this with anyone, actually.”

“Oh.” The Farmer blinks owlishly, their hand stilling on their glass. “Really?”

Kent shakes his head, humming an affirmative. “Just you.”

“So… I’m special?” They ask, and it’s obvious they’re joking, the tilt of their lips just a little too teasing, but he doesn’t care. It’s obvious, and they’ll figure it out for themselves eventually.

“Are you going to the caverns again tomorrow?” Kent asks instead of answering, flagging down Emily for the bill. She notices immediately, and Kent knows it’s because she was staring. Everyone is always fucking staring.

“Um.” The Farmer picks at a loose thread on their shirt, even though there isn’t one. He doesn’t mention it. “Yeah, I was—I was thinking about it, if the day’s luck is good.”

“You don’t need to check if it is.” Kent watches Emily walk out from behind the bar, the bill and a pen in hand. “I’ll be your good luck charm, remember?”

The Farmer opens their mouth to respond, with the prettiest blush on their face, but Emily finally appears at their table, effectively cutting them off.

“Here you are,” Emily says, a curious smile on her face as she hands him the bill. 

He sets the bill on the table and reaches into his pocket for his wallet. “Thanks, Emily. How’s business tonight?” 

“Fridays are always busy, so it’s going well, I suppose. What about you two? How’s your night so far?” She asks, mischief sparkling in her calculating blue eyes. Even if Kent didn’t know her and Haley were siblings, the way they look at the world would give it away immediately. Haley’s eyes are far more cunning, but still. Two peas in a pod.

Kent places a few heavy coins in the tray, making sure to tip her a few extra than usual, and passes it back. “Great, but we’ve got plans to go into the desert early tomorrow, so we’re gonna head out.”

“Calico Desert?” Emily asks, and Kent is almost surprised she doesn’t push for more info. “My friend Sandy lives over there!”

Ah. That’s why.

“I’ll make sure to say hi to her for you,” The Farmer jumps in, making deliberate eye contact with Emily. The smile on their face is polite, but distracted.

“Would you?” Emily smiles gratefully. “Thanks, Farmer. I appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome.” The Farmer’s returning smile is genuine this time, and Kent’s heart thumps heavily against his ribcage. If they make his heart race any more, he’ll have to check in with Harvey for potential bruising.

“Well, you’re all set, so y’all have a good night,” Emily says with a smile, reaching out to pluck their empty glasses off the table.

“You too.” Kent stands up, pushing his chair in and waiting for the Farmer to get up to their feet. “Are you ready to go? Got everything?”

The Farmer nods, and Kent follows them with his hands shoved into his jacket pockets as they walk out. He takes one hand out to hold the door for them as they step out into the frigid winter air, and almost immediately his fingers are numb. He’s never been able to handle the cold very well. It’s in his best interest to head home, to get out of it and into some central heating, but…

“Can I walk you home?” Kent asks quietly, after the door swings shut behind them. The Farmer stops short, and he can’t tell if the flush is from the cold or from something else.

“You’re welcome to, but don’t you hate the cold?” The Farmer gestures vaguely at the snowflakes floating around them. “Shouldn’t I be the one walking you home?”

Kent smiles, his chest suddenly light. “Maybe, but your place is farther, and I don’t wanna say goodnight to you just yet.”

“Like my company that much, huh?” The Farmer asks, cocking their head to the side as they slip their hands into their pockets. The collar of their winter jacket pulls against the back of their neck, and Kent steps onto the icy path. 

“Let’s get you home, Farmer.” Kent starts walking, expecting them to follow. He smiles at the sound of their boots crunching against the frosted grass and gravel, and starts heading for the farmlands.

“You ignoring my questions on purpose, Kent?” They ask, but he knows it isn’t a question.

“Yep.” He nods. “We’re taking the bus tomorrow morning, right? What time should I meet you there?”

They sigh, playfully irritated, and he grins to himself. “Pam usually gets there at 9, so I should be good to head out at eight-fifty? If that works for you?”

“Eight-fifty it is, then. Anything in particular that you’re looking for down there?”

They sigh, looking up at the cloudy sky as they walk past Marnie’s. “Same thing as today. I really need iridium so I can get Clint to upgrade all of my tools before the new year, and I need my hoe upgraded desperately if I want to make a profit off of strawberries next spring.”

“Thinking that far ahead, huh?” Kent glances at the sketchy caravan beyond the trees next to Cindersap, and purposely puts himself between it and the Farmer. 

“Not by much, but I have to if I don’t want to go bankrupt. Strawberries are good for a lot of other stuff, too. I can make jam and wine with them, which are both pretty profitable.”

“Are you going to grow anything else, or just strawberries?”

The Farmer shrugs and unlatches the south gate to their property. “I grow some things year-round in my greenhouse, but I think I’ll only plant strawberries in the fields, since they’re the most profitable.”

“How do you know?” Kent asks, genuinely curious. He doesn’t know shit about farming, truthfully.

“I’ve done the math,” they say, pulling a small notebook out of seemingly fucking nowhere. Kent glares at their jacket in confusion. “They’ve got the highest profit ratio, based on how much I drop on them at Pierre’s stand and how often they grow. Strawberry plants fruit every four days once they’re fully grown, so I can get the most out of them if I start them early.”

They hold out their notebook, flipped to a random page with a smattering of bullet points and notes in their handwriting. There’s a silly doodle of a strawberry at the top of the page, and Kent smiles fondly.

“You’ve got this shit down to a science, Farmer. I’m impressed.”

They snort, and their notebook practically dematerializes as they shove it into their jacket, but he doesn’t see a pocket—where on earth do they put it?

“Two years of fucking up and not planning ahead has taught me to think about the future a little more.” They shrug. “We’ll have to see if I can actually pull it off, though; planning ahead won’t mean anything if I can’t get the iridium ore for it.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine. You’ve still got two months left.”

“Two months goes by pretty quickly, though.” They sigh, and Kent watches as the lampposts in front of their house begin illuminating their face.

He swallows hard and averts his stare. He shrugs, forcing himself to be casual. “Well, between the both of us and a little luck, I think we’ll manage it just fine.”

They hum, and he catches their smile through his peripherals.

“Maybe.” The stairs on the Farmer’s porch creak under their weight as they step up to their front door, and Kent knows he has to say goodnight now, but as they go to pluck their keys out of their pocket, he grabs their wrist.

“I know I’ve been kinda pushy, but I want you to tell me honestly.” Kent knows without a shred of doubt that his fingers are nearly frozen against their skin. They look at him, chin angled down with their sudden height difference. He won’t go up their front steps to even it out, though. That’s a boundary he won’t cross, not unless they ask him to. “Is it really alright that I come with you tomorrow? I don’t want you to force yourself to be okay with it if you don’t actually want me there.”

The Farmer’s lips part, and he sees rather than hears their breath of surprise—a cloud of vapor in front of their face, glowing orange in their porch light.

“Why have you been so pushy?” They ask, and now it’s his turn to get ignored. “Why do you want to come with me so badly?”

Kent lets go of their wrist, and his palm burns. He doesn’t have it in him to lie. “Because I’m scared of what might happen to you if I don’t.”

They’re quiet for a long moment, recognition passing over their face, and Kent loves the fact that pity is never something he’ll have to see along with it. Not with the Farmer.

They walk forward, placing a sturdy hand on the banister as they lean in close. “I have one more question for you, Kent. Answer honestly, and I’ll let you come with me.” 

Kent nods stiffly, his eyes flicking everywhere but their own. “I’m great at honesty.”

They hum, and Kent watches, frozen solid as they glance at his lips. “Am I special to you?” 

He bites his lip, the back of his neck burning. “Yeah—yes. You are.”

They nod once, and then step away. Kent watches, a sudden panic thickening in his chest.

“Good.”

Wait, 'good?'

The Farmer unlocks their front door, and opens it wide. They turn around before stepping inside, and their smile is giddy. Kent’s panic subsides. He’s imagined rejection more times than he can count, and he’s pretty sure that’s not what it looks like. “I’ll see you at eight-fifty, okay? Don’t be late—I’d hate to have to leave my good-luck charm behind.”

“Cross my heart.” Kent nods, his own smile just as giddy. 

They close the door, just a bit. Their eyes twinkle. “Goodnight, Kent.” 

“G’night.” He waves, and the cold isn’t nipping at his fingers as much anymore.

When he collapses into bed that night, his skin is flushed and cold, and his heart is thumping erratically in his chest. His smile doesn’t subside, even as he falls asleep.

[violinist-rachel]

Dear Rachel? What is your outlook on life? What do you value most in your own life?

"My outlook on life?"

"Hmm...." "I suppose I believe in karma. I think all of our actions will eventually have consequences that'll one day catch up to us, no matter how hard we try to run away."

"Now, I'm not perfect by any means. Far from it. But during my time in this world, it's important to me that I try to do more good than harm in my life."

[allylikethecat]

omg more prompts!! would love to see matty holding hands with george while he’s stressed out about something and then maybe later laying his head in george’s lap🥺

HELLO THERE ANON,

You sent me this WONDERFUL intimacy prompt literally three months ago, BUT I finally did it, I finally filled it! Better late than never? Right? I want to apologize though for taking so long to get to it, and thank you so much for sending it in. I hope that you're still around to see the response! I ended up combining the two- I hope that was okay! Please let me know what you think! Additionally, if anyone else wants to send in any intimacy prompts, the list can be found here. I can't guarantee that it won't take me three months to finish the next one, but I promise that I *will* eventually. I really enjoy working on prompt fills and even if it takes me forever to actually sit down and write them, just know that I am in fact always thinking about them!

Thank you so much for requesting this prompt, your patience since I am the worst and it took me months, for reading, and for your continued support! I look forward to hearing what you think!

❤️Ally

WARNINGS: Reference to past drug abuse

Holding hands during a stressful situation & Resting your head on your partner's lap

Matty hated flying. He hated the drive to the airport. He hated that they were always, inevitably, caught in stop and go traffic that made his already nervous belly churn, nausea burning the back of his throat. He hated leaving his bag with the airline agent, the worry that it would get lost, that it would get stolen, that it wouldn’t make it to his final destination even as he obsessively tracked its air tagged location on his phone. He hated going through security and border control. He hated taking off his jacket, and shoving his backpack into the plastic bin. He hated the scrutiny of the security agents as they took in his tattoos and the scars on his arms. He was always, without fail, pulled for random, additional screening. He always tried to smile good naturedly, anxiety bubbling in his gut, even if he knew he wasn’t truly chosen at random, drug dogs sniffing his ankles as they swabbed his hands for explosives. At least he got to carry his own passport now, it was no longer in Jamie’s clutches as if he was going to run off to score the second he was left unattended. (He never had even considered fleeing an airport to score, however, he had considered fleeing an airport to run back to the flat he shared with George and hide under the covers of their bed.)

He hated making his way through the crowded terminal, people rushing around him, knocking into him, suffocating him as he tried to remember how to breathe. The straps of his backpack digging into his shoulder. He knew there would be a red mark on the skin when he sat it down, there always was. He loved their fans, he loved them more than anything, but he hated that he could feel their eyes on him as he moved through the airport, taking pictures of him with his eyes downcast, the brim of his baseball hat pulled low as if it would be able to fully hide his mop of curls. Only for the pictures to end up on Twitter moments later, which led to more eyes seeking his location. The braver ones would approach him and ask for a picture with him rather than just of him from a distance. He would force a smile, his arm stiffly around their shoulders as he tried to focus on his breathing, his palms sweating as every fiber of his being screamed danger and run. He hated that they always seemed to be assigned the gate furthest away from the main artery of the terminal. He hated that his anxiety meant he needed to lay eyes on the gate, that he needed to verify that it was real before he could wait with the rest of their group in the lounge. 

He hated that once he had dropped off his bag, and made it through security, and checked on his gate, that it was time to wait. Matty was not a patient person, he was even less patient when he was stressed, wanting things the way he wanted them right this instant. Demanding, George had called him one time with an amused smile and love shining in his eyes.

At this particular instant, he was both stressed and demanding, gripping George’s hand as if it was the only thing keeping him tethered to this earth as he dragged him through the crowded corridor towards their gate. He was more stressed than even his usual airport levels of airport anxiety. He hadn’t slept the night before, tossing and turning, worrying about the ten hour flight from LA to London they would be embarking on the next morning, popping piece after piece of nicotine gum as they inched towards departures in their rental van. They had played the last show of the tour the night before, and Matty was burnt out and ready to go home. Once at the airport, he had been, as usual, pulled for additional screening, the man that patted him down rough and inconsiderate. He had been stopped by a duo of fans less than five minutes later, forcing a smile as he tried to swallow down anxious tears threatening to spill. His heart was pounding in his chest, and his blood rushing in his ears as a man speaking loudly on the phone bumped into him, splashing him with iced coffee.

“You’re okay,” George soothed, giving Matty’s sweaty hand a comforting squeeze of his own, as the man turned away from them, glaring, as if they were the ones not watching where they were going. He swiped his thumb reassuringly against the back of Matty’s hand. 

“The gate is just up ahead,” George said, pointing with his free hand to B37. “We still have an hour ‘til boarding.” 

Matty nodded, wishing that seeing the gate with his own eyes would have loosened some of the tension in his chest, the way it usually did. George gave his hand another squeeze and Matty swallowed hard. George had calluses on his fingers and across his palm from years of playing the drums professionally, Matty loved that they slotted perfectly against his own guitarists calluses. Matty loved that George’s hands were so much bigger than his own, dwarfing his hand, his fingers wrapping fully around his own, engulfing them, protecting them from the outside world. He loved that even when he was shaking, even when his palms were disgustingly damp and sweaty, George never let go. He might have been the one clinging to George, but really, George was the one holding onto him. He closed his eyes, and tried to focus on the feel, on the weight of George’s hand, intertwined with his own. He could still feel his heart beating in his ears, but he no longer felt like he was going to drift away, like he was going to be pulled out to sea by the current and lost forever.

George pressed a gentle kiss to the side of Matty’s head. “Let's head up to the lounge, I would kill for a cup of coffee.” 

Matty let himself be led through the crowd, their hands connected as if George was the tugboat guiding Matty’s ship to shore. George showed their passes to the hostess and they were granted access, the rest of their group already sprawled out on the couches, bags at their feet, coffee in hand. Matty swallowed a yawn, he was exhausted, and knew that coffee would help, but he also knew he wouldn’t be able to stomach the acidic liquid at the moment.

Matty sat down on an open two seater. Matty hated that he had to let go of George’s hand as he made his way over to the coffee bar, pleased that they were reunited a moment later, a steaming paper cup in George’s hand. He dropped into the seat next to him and without thinking Matty found himself leaning over, not caring that technically they were in public, to rest his head in George’s lap. 

“I just want to go home,” Matty said softly as George tugged Matty’s hat off to run his fingers through the messy squashed curls. 

“Soon love,” said George, “we’ll be home soon.”

[driftwooddestiel]

rpf is often really disrespectful to the boundaries of the celebrities

(first of all THANK YOU for waiting this long for my reply i kept getting derailed with hw and the like my apologies o7)

Okay so i’m going to put my actual response/explanation of my points under the cut so as to avoid the post getting too long (i’m very passionate about this subject so i really wrote a lot), but the tl dr is: sometimes that’s true but i think it’s more complicated than that a lot of the time because of the nature of boundaries and the way celebrity culture functions👍please know that im engaging in this discussion with full respect to your opinion and i don't mean to dismiss it in any way

This will all be in dot points so it doesn’t turn into a bunch of paragraphs that make no sense. Still lots of words tho,,,, thank you in advance for reading o7

Starting with your initial statement of rpf often being disrespectful to the boundaries of the celebrities involved:

I mean… you’re not wrong! That is definitely true of certain cases of rpf. However i think that in the context of real person fandom, the word “boundaries” is often used in confusing ways that don’t match its meaning.

The way i see it, a boundary is something someone sets in relation to how somebody else interacts with them directly, and it’s about how the one setting the boundary responds to certain behaviours. 

Idk if i’m explaining it quite right, but it’s like… a boundary would be someone saying to a friend “hey, i get really anxious when i see tomatoes, so i would prefer if you tried not to eat them when you’re around me. If you do, i’ll most likely have to leave the room until you’re done eating” (kind of silly example i know but its the first thing i thought of) – it’s not just telling someone not to do something, but rather explaining how doing something will affect you and alerting them that you won’t react positively. You can’t control how other people act, so you make them aware of how you will respond.

With the tomatoes example, a more unreasonable/illogical boundary would be something like “i would prefer if you never ate tomatoes again. If i find out you ate tomatoes without me knowing, i wouldn’t want to remain friends”. In my personal opinion, as a general rule boundaries should relate to how people directly interact, not what they do in their personal time that doesn’t affect the other party at all – and i think that those kinds of unreasonable boundaries are difficult to enforce and a bit pointless a lot of the time

BRINGING THIS BACK TO RPF: i think there’s definitely a level of boundaries that celebrities are entitled to be able to put in place in regards to rpf and fan interactions. If a celebrity says they don’t want to be shown rpf written about them, fans should absolutely respect that and keep the rpf to dedicated spaces away from the celebrity. But if a celebrity says they’re not a fan of rpf of themselves (perfectly fine thing to feel) and then proceeds to actively seek it out and publicly take issue with the writers, i think that’s just kind of stupid. If the rpf is being kept in a dedicated space (like it typically is) where you have to actively try to find it in order to read it, and the only reason the celebrity has found it is because of their own actions, then i think there’s no point in them complaining. The writing was never intended for them and there was never any reason for them to see it in the first place.

THAT SAID i do think to an extent it is kind of crappy to post rpf about someone if they’ve clearly said they dislike a certain kind of rpf about them (this especially applies to child celebrities– at that point it becomes quite creepy tbh). But i dont think its a black and white thing, and i don’t necessarily think it’s a moral evil to write rpf about someone who doesn’t like rpf. If the writing is kept private or only shared within a private circle of a few other people, it literally does not affect the celebrity at all. There is no logical reason for someone to stop writing it if that’s the case, i think. Personally i’d probably judge someone a little if they wrote a specific kind of rpf that a celebrity had explicitly stated they were uncomfortable with (and i’d judge them a lot if it was a child celebrity and i wouldn’t want to talk to them most likely), but i do think that at the end of the day they do have a right to write it.

THEN THERE’S THE OTHER ANGLE; when people take rps (real person shipping, not quite the same as rpf, which isnt always shippy) too far and bring it into real life. I’m talking about those larry fans who harassed the members, gossip mags and invasive fans obsessively trying to get every detail of real celebrities’ relationships and purporting their theories as true, etc. This is, to me, a different scenario to rpf. Rpf is ultimately FICTION, and 90% of the time the writers are fully aware of this. Rpf is about taking the persona a celebrity presents to the public and developing a character off of that, inventing a private life for that character that draws from what we see. Generally this means that rpf writers have an understanding that what they see of a celebrity is not representative of who they actually are as a person, and the life or character that they create based off of this is understood to be equally fictional.

In my opinion, this is much healthier than what much of celebrity culture encourages. When you’re not probing beyond what a celebrity chooses to present to you, you leave their private life private. It’s much less harmful to the real celebrities than what popular media does, which is constantly report on the private lives of celebrities and obtain personal information through invasive means, and then use this information (which is NOT enough to actually give you an accurate picture of a person’s life) to formulate a narrative that’s a) exciting and emotionally investing, and b) treated as true. That last part is the most important distinction between rpf and actively harmful behaviour. Most, if not all, of the cases where rpf has ended up having real-world effects happen because the shippers have conflated fiction for the genuine lives of celebrities, and ended up with a kind of parasocial belief that they legitimately know the personal lives of those celebrities.

I think that rpf is a product of the media landscape we live in and how celebrity culture functions to encourage people to perform characters of themselves at all times, and a lot of criticisms of how rpf responds to that culture are really just criticisms of celebrity culture as a whole. And ultimately, it’s healthier to treat a celebrity’s public persona as just that, a persona, and channel your attachment to celebrities into a fictional environment that you KNOW is fictional, than to expect celebrities to match their public persona in their private lives, or to make their private lives public.

OKAY THAT’S ALL! Sorry for writing so much, again i am like. really  genuinely passionate about this topic and i find it all so so very interesting so i kind of got a bit carried away. I hope i explained my viewpoint in a way that made sense!! Thank you for sending me this anon, i think this is an important conversation to have and you make a good point :-) if you disagree with anything i’ve said here, feel free to tell me why. (& also i want to make it clear now: despite all i’ve said here, i do think it’s completely reasonable to be uncomfortable with rpf and not want to engage with it yourself. I used to be quite against rpf myself actually. I just think that as a genre it has a right to exist and is generally more complex than many believe it to be)

LAST OF ALLLLL – some articles and resources in relation to this topic that i’ve found extremely interesting

This (https://eprints.lancs.ac.uk/id/eprint/152581/1/2017_Reading_real_person_fiction.pdf) paper(? Article? Idk the name) by Judith Fathalla on the way RPF is constructed as a digital medium. Its honestly so very interesting and i highly recommend it no matter your view on rpf

This (http://web.archive.org/web/20051101010453/http://www.chartattack.com/damn/2004/11/1204.cfm) article and the author’s retrospective article from 2017 (https://archive.md/cLKCk) – these articles were what first made me start thinking about the complexities of rpf and its relation to reality, and they’re also quite good

[tokkiwrites]

Hi happy holidays! Can you please do a Sergei kravinoff smut x innocent female virgin reader “babe in the woods” trope. Sergei is immediately fixated on reader and wants her to be his grude & mother of his children. He immediately marries and later takes her virginity. He hopes to impregnate her from their first time together. Ty!

thank you for this request, anon! and sorry it took so long to post. I've had it written, but it just took a while for me to get the smut part going. i hope you like it!

Sergei Kravinoff × F!Reader ♰ themes of stalking, obsessive Sergei, kidnapping, Kraven is a weirdo and needs to be locked up, i would say innocent reader but more so an unbothered reader kind of, she is just confused, forced marriage, themes of Stockholm syndrome, loss of virginity, fingering (reader receiving), afab reader, unprotected p in v, Sergei wants to get the reader pregnant.

The woods were quiet, save for the whisper of wind threading through the branches above. You loved this time of day when the sun filtered gold and green through the canopy, casting dappled patterns on the earth. It was your sanctuary, far from the clamor of town and the heavy, watchful eyes of others. Here, no one could accuse you of being strange, or sheltered, or too naive. You simply were.

The faint crack of a branch made you stop mid-step, your basket of wildflowers swinging lightly at your hip. “Hello?” You called, voice soft, hesitant. The forest had always been safe— or so it felt. until now, you had never had the need to question it.

He emerged from the shadows, and your breath caught. The man was massive. A towering figure, his broad shoulders draped in animal pelts and his chest bare save for the crisscrossing scars that marked him as something primal, dangerous. His face was angular, carved from stone, with piercing eyes that pinned you where you stood.

Sergei Kravinoff. The name would mean nothing to you, but to others, it struck fear—a hunter of men and beasts, a predator who bent the wilderness to his will. He did not speak at first. He only looked at you, as if you were some rare, delicate creature he had stumbled upon. The longer his eyes lingered, the hotter your cheeks burned.

“Who are you?” you asked, clutching the basket to your chest. His lips curved into a smile, though there was nothing warm in it. “I am Sergei,” he said, his voice low, thick with an accent you couldn’t place. “And you" he paused for a bit. " Should not wander alone in places like this. The world is not kind to lambs.” You blinked at him, confused. “Lambs?”

“You,” he clarified, taking a step closer. His sheer presence seemed to draw the air from your lungs. “Soft. Untouched. So trusting.” You took an instinctive step back, and his smile widened, as if he enjoyed your unease. “I—I’ve never seen you here before. Are you lost?”

“No,” he said simply, his eyes roaming over you with an intensity that made your skin prickle. “But perhaps I have found something worth staying for.”

It reeked of dangerㅡ death. yet you still came back.

Over the next week, you saw him again and again. Always in the woods, always watching. At first, you told yourself it was a coincidence. this strange man simply shared your love for the forest. But his presence became impossible to ignore. He never tried to speak much, yet his eyes seemed to devour you every time, as though he were committing every detail of your face to memory. You should have been afraid. You should have stopped going to the woods entirely. But something about him fascinated you. He was so unlike the boys in town, who stammered and avoided your gaze, intimidated by your quietness. Sergei was bold, unflinching. He seemed to look right through you, to the parts of yourself you didn’t even understand.

you little lamb.

“Why do you keep following me?” He tilted his head, his gaze softening though not entirely. “Because you are mine.” The bluntness of his words made your breath hitch. “I don’t even know you.”

“You will,” he said, stepping closer. He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face, and though you should have flinched away, you didn’t. His touch was surprisingly gentle, reverent even, even if his rough fingers scratched your skin. “I have decided. You will be my bride.”

“Bride?” You echoed the word foreign and strange on your tongue. “But we’ve only just—” you laughed. surely it must be a joke. “You are meant for me, little lamb” he interrupted, his voice firm, leaving no room for argument. “I have hunted all my life, little one. I know when I have found my prize.” Suddenly, the world went dark.

maybe it was all just a bad and confusing dream. though his touch still lingered.

You woke in the morning to find yourself not in your small, familiar room. outside the window that overlooked the bed you were in, the forest. The air smelled of pine and smoke, and outside, the trees loomed tall and unyielding. Panic gripped you as you sat up, heart racing. “Where—” The door creaked open, and there he was, filling the frame with his imposing presence. “You are awake,” Sergei said, his tone calm, almost pleasedㅡ excited. He carried a tray with food: fresh berries, bread, and cheese. “Eat. Now."

“Where am I?” you demanded, your voice trembling. “Why did you—” He set the tray down, cutting you off with a look. “You are safe. That is all you need to know.”

“I am not! This isn’t right,” you said, tears pricking at your eyes. “You can’t just—”

“I can,” he said sharply, though his expression softened as he stepped closer. “I have waited long enough. You do not understand, but you will. I will take care of you. Protect you. You will want for nothing, my little one.”

You shook your head, backing away from him, but he caught your wrist with startling ease. His touch was firm, yet not cruel. “Do not fear me,” he murmured, his voice dropping to something almost tender. “I would never hurt you. You are too precious.”

Sergei did not wait long to make you his.

The days in the cabin blurred together, each one steeped in an odd rhythm. Sergei’s presence was constant, protective, and overwhelming. He would watch you eat, his sharp eyes softening whenever you complied. He brought you small gifts: wildflowers, trinkets carved from wood, pelts to keep you warm. He never let you wander far, always ensuring you were within sight. And though he never forced his touch upon you, you could feel the tension thrumming beneath the surface, like a predator waiting for the right moment to pounce.

In the evening, as the fire crackled and cast flickering shadows on the walls, Sergei sat across from you. He leaned forward, large hands resting on his knees. “It is time,” he said, his voice calm but unyielding. “Time?” you echoed, your throat dry. “For us to marry.” You stared at him, heart pounding. “I… I can’t. I don’t even know what you want from me. I—I never— You kidnapped me!”

“You were made for this,” he said, cutting you off. his eyes were setting you a-light, it made your skin prickle. “You think I do not see it? Your purity. Your innocence. You were meant to be a wife. My wife.” Tears burned in your eyes, but you blinked them away. “But I’m not— I need to marry someone I love!"

“You are ready,” he insisted, his tone softening only slightly. “I have waited long enough. It will be done."

And it was.

The ceremony was simple, ritualistic. Sergei had prepared everything. rings made from woven silver, a bearskin cloak to drape over your shoulders as a symbol of protection. There was no priest, no people, only the two of you and the forest as your witness. He spoke vows in a language you did not understand, his voice deep and reverent, as though he were offering you up to some ancient force. When it was your turn, your voice faltered, but under his watchful gaze, you repeated the words he taught you.

“You are mine,” he said at the end, taking your face in his hands. His eyes burned with possessive fire. “And I am yours.”

but every wolf gets hungry eventually.

When night fell, you found yourself sitting on the edge of the bed, your hands clutching the thick wool blanket. Sergei entered the room, his movements slow and deliberate. He had shed his usual pelts, his bare chest glowing in the firelight.

“You are trembling,” he said, his voice softer than you had ever heard it. He knelt in front of you, his massive frame now not so intimidating. “Are you afraid of me?” You couldn’t meet his eyes. "I don’t know... what you expect from me? What you w-want...”

“I expect you to trust me,” he said simply, his hand brushing against your cheek. “You are my wife now. It is my duty to show you what that means.” Your breath stopped as he leaned closer, his lips ghosting over your forehead. “I will not hurt you,” he murmured, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down your spine. “But you are mine, little lamb. Every part of you.”

His lips met yours— soft at first, testing, as though he feared you might shatter like porcelain. But when you didn’t pull away, his kiss deepened, a low growl rumbling in his chest. His hands cradled your face, his touch reverent, almost worshipful.

“I have waited for this,” he said against your lips, his voice thick with desire. “Waited to claim what is mine.” You didn’t resist as he laid you down, his hands tracing over your trembling form. He was patient, guiding you gently, his touch surprisingly tender for someone so fierce. But his intent was clear.

oh, little lamb.

rugged hands make their way up and around your hips as his bearded face stays flush against your tender neck. he was ready to devour you. Sergei looked up into your eyes and for the first time you've seen him smile. and as if all of the things you felt caused you fears melted away, so did you into his embrace.

his lips meet yours, and it all finally made sense. you could feel the hunger, the will in him to give his all right here, right now. you wrapped around him like vines on a tree, his low growl of approval making you clench around nothing. it all felt so new, yet familiar, as if somehow, this wasn't the first time. the forest outside sung as your quiet moans filled the cabin. Sergei discards all of your clothes with ease, leaving you in nothing as you stayed splayed on the bed. the fur coverings under, pooled around your body, the moonlight dripped on you like dew in spring and you looked like a precious painting.

with no time to wait, sergei quickly gets naked. it wasn't the first time you saw him like this, but it was the first time you saw it. to say all that fear bubbled up into your stomach was an understatement. you gulped down as your glossy eyes looked at him up and down. "Spread your legs for me." it wasn’t a request, it was an order. and you obey. spreading your legs you give him a full view of you dripping cunt, and sergei throws his head back with a low groan. you finally speak up. "IㅡI am a...a virgin." it all seemed so silly to say now. "I know." he smiles in the corner of his mouth. "Smelled it on you the first time we met." and you whimper. "I will get you ready now." somehow, you knew what it meant. He kneels in front of you on the bed, pulling you so that you thighs are right over his, your puffy lips on full display. two of his digits make their way up to your mouth. "Suck." you comply.

after that was done, his calloused fingers make their way between your folds, gathering up the juices you've been dripping. You whimpered softly and Sergei shushed you, rubbing small circles on your plushy thigh with his other hand. He pushes one of his fingers inside, and you can feel it. It didn’t hurt, not yet, it was just strange and new. the second finger comes quick after and he starts pumping them, swirling them around as his lips made contact with your swollen bud. Your eyes jot open as this feeling washes over you, and you can't help but let your legs shake uncontrollably. The fire wave envelopes you whole before it comes to an agonizing stop. You open your eyes again and above you is Sergei, his shaft in his hand as he aligns it with your asking entrance. "If it hurts...yell. Scream as much as you want. Hurt me back. I am here to teach you."

and teach you he does. he pushes in slowly and the stretch is agonizing, the pain making all of your muscles tense. "It's alright, I'm here, little girl." you let out a sigh, the tears slipping past your lids when you open your eyes. the moon engulfed Sergei in It's beautiful light, his silhouette looking as if it was carved out perfectly. a couple of inches, then some more, and some moreㅡ until he is fully inside. you bite down on your tongue, but Sergei preps soft kisses along your jaw and you seem to forget about the pain. "You're doing so, so good. So good for me." he hums, taking in a big breath of your smell before he snaps his hips slowly. In a few seconds, the burn turned into a delicious feeling you couldn’t quite describe. And though it felt so new, your body fell in place right into Sergei’s touch, as if it were meant to be.

When he finally started to move faster, his groan was one of triumph, a sound that you know will echo in your ears long after. “You will give me childrenㅡ" he said, voice low and ragged as he moved inside of you. “Strong sons and daughters. Our legacy will begin tonight.”

your legs quiver around him, but he leaves no room for mercy. Above you, he looked just as a predator ready to swallow his pray whole. you weren't one to fight back, and you really didn't want to. you back stayed arched against the coverings of the bed, fingers clawing at his broad shoulders as he pumped into you. your tummy was churning, and your head was dizzyㅡ you were far gone, too drunk on the way he perfectly hit that spot with each thrust. "You were made for me, made to take meㅡ fuck, you are so beautiful." you whimper, feeling that fire wave starting to take over again. your velvet walls squeeze around him, causing him to growl. Sergei leans forward, propping one of your legs above his shoulder, the angle making you gasp for air. you look up at him, eyes glossy with tears. An animal. His eyes grew darker, lips crooked in a smile before he delivered his final blow.

you come undone right under his fingertips, writhing and shaking as small pleads fall from your lips. You can feel his seed deep within you, threatening to slip out around his cock that was still inside of you, pulsing. "Good girl."

he prays it sticks.

Sergei’s obsession with you only deepened—he barely let you out of his sight, his touch lingering whenever he could. Yet there was a softness in him, a desire to make you happy, even as he bent you to his will.

He began teaching you small things. how to tend the fire, how to skin an animal, how to defend yourself should a predator come. But you were never allowed to go far. “Why can’t I leave?” you asked one afternoon, your frustration bubbling over. Sergei turned to you, his eyes darkening. “Because the world is cruel, little one. It will devour you. You are too soft, too trusting. Here, you are safe.”

“Safe,” you repeated bitterly. His jaw clenched, and for a moment, you thought he might lash out. But instead, he cupped your face in his hands, his gaze softening. “I would rather you hate me than lose you.” you were beginning to see the truth of it. his love for you was consumin and obsessive, but it was real. He worshipped you, protected you, but at the cost of your freedom. And yet, part of you began to adapt. To find comfort in his arms, in the way he looked at you as though you were the only thing that mattered.

Perhaps you were.

[asiatic-apple]

this isn't a request btw I've read about your caleb crying and sex & i wanna add: you know that tweet that goes "my bf fucks me until I get shy around him again morning after" bc, , the way he spoiled you with pleasure 🤤🤤🤤... is it intentional? unintentional? Doesn't matter. You def see him in a new NEW light (this turned out so much filthier i am so sorry😔 it sounded more intimate inside my head)

Anon first of all, thank you for christening my blog with the first ask 🤲🏽❤️ and it is such a good one too!! Second of all, don't apologize for being filthy bc I am a freak just like caleb and this is a safe space for filthy thoughts about our favorite pixelated man 😌

Idk what drugs you put in this ask, anon, but you caused a sudden burst of inspo and what started out as a few sentences of a reply quickly turned into +1k words…oopsies. I know you didn’t ask for this, but I hope you enjoy this random drabble :)

Caleb x female reader

content: nsfw-ish (no actual depiction of smut but it is heavily referenced), first time with caleb, implied multiple orgasms, overstim mentioned, caleb likes to tease you but lovingly, you both jokingly mimic the sounds each of you made last night

You wake to the smell of eggs and bacon, and it takes you a few minutes to remember where you are and what exactly happened last night. The answer is Skyhaven, in Caleb's bed—and after months of tension between the two of you, you finally wound up fucking each other.

No, that word doesn't accurately sum up everything you experienced last night. It was intimate, intense, and emotional for both of you. It even had its moments of clumsiness and soft laughter as you both navigated this new aspect of your relationship and took turns learning each other’s bodies. But on top of all that, you experienced pleasure like you've never felt before.

You quickly get out of Caleb's warm bed to start your morning routine, wanting to freshen up a bit before meeting him in the kitchen. And for some reason, you start to feel a bit timid as you look at your reflection in the bathroom mirror. You think about last night, how wantonly you moaned as he pulled out all the stops to make you feel good. Your cheeks burn as you remember just how many times you came on his tongue and fingers before he finally gave you his cock—and made you come around it several more times.

Thinking back to it, you can't remember exactly how many times you reached your peak, but Caleb didn't stop until you nearly passed out from exhaustion. And even then, you didn't really want him to stop. In the span of one night, you became addicted to the feeling of him inside you.

So after being faced with the filthy memories of everything you did and said last night—and all the filthy things Caleb groaned in your ear with each deep thrust inside you—it's no surprise you're feeling a little sheepish as you exit the bedroom. The worst part is that you’re sure Caleb immediately notices your shyness as he pulls you into a tight embrace. It’s just like him to give you no escape from his piercing gaze.

“Hey there, sleepyhead,” he whispers, running his hands up and down your back.

You know it's meant to be an innocent gesture, but your memories of last night only grow stronger as you're reminded of how he couldn't keep his hands off you. And how tightly he held you in place while you wriggled beneath him from overstimulation.

“I made us breakfast. Figured you'd be especially hungry after last night.” You're convinced he's saying that on purpose, lowering his voice in that infuriatingly sexy way of his before he chuckles a bit too smugly.

You smack his shoulder lightly, trying to hide the fact that your face is getting even hotter from his teasing. “Shut up,” you whine in mortification.

But Caleb seems intent on making you squirm. “Oh, c'mon,” he says in a playful drawl before pulling you tighter against his chest. “Are you really that embarrassed by what we did last night?”

His fingers trail feather-light touches up your back and along your neck, purposeful in finding your ticklish spots so he can turn your bashfulness into fits of carefree laughter. Once he's satisfied with you loosening up a bit, he looks down at you seriously.

“You don't regret anything, do you?” You can tell he's trying to keep his tone lighthearted, but there's a glint of fear in those wide eyes of his.

“No, god no,” you say without hesitation. “I don't regret anything.”

You swallow that nervous lump in your throat, still feeling the remnants of embarrassment as you meet his gaze to show him you're serious too. And Caleb’s smile only grows bigger. It’s like you've given him the greatest gift with such a simple answer. He gives you a chaste peck on the lips before pulling back with a different kind of grin—one that says he's back to teasing you now that you've both cleared the air a bit.

“Good,” Caleb replies. “Because I definitely want to hear those cute sounds of yours again.”

Another kiss lands on your warm cheeks, and your brain short-circuits from that suggestive look in his eyes. Still, you manage a scoff at his smug tone. He's already so cocky about his ability to rile you up, and a petty part of you wants to remind him how you weren't the only one being enthusiastically loud last night.

“Oh, yeah? And what about you?” You try to keep your voice steady, even as Caleb continues peppering lazy kisses along your cheeks and down your neck. “I'm pretty sure you were louder than I was.” You lower your voice a register, trying to imitate those broken groans he made when he was close to his climax. “Hm, pip-squeak, you feel so good!”

You barely get through your poor impression before breaking character with a snort. But at least Caleb’s onslaught of wet kisses halts for a moment as he also fails at stifling his laughter.

“Right, right,” he says between a few chuckles. Even though you might be exaggerating a bit with your impression, Caleb’s cheeks and ears still tinge pink with a blush. “Was that before or after you kept beggin’ me”—his voice pitches higher—“oh, Caleb, please please don’t stop.”

You gasp dramatically. “I do not sound like that.”

“You’re right. It’s better when you do it.”

You roll your eyes, only half-annoyed by Caleb mentioning how unabashed you were in voicing your pleasure last night. The other half of you is turned on by his teasing. But that’s only for you to know…for now.

But as always, it’s like he can read your mind right at that moment. Caleb leans closer, taking advantage of your flustered state so he can whisper in your ear. “Maybe you need a reminder of how needy you were for me last night. I don't mind joggin’ your memory, honey.”

Before you can even try to come up with a witty remark, he's pulling away and dragging you to the dining table as if he didn’t just threaten you with a good time.

“Come on,” he says with a knowing grin. “Eat your breakfast before it gets cold. And after you're done digesting, maybe I can teach you not to get so antsy every time I touch you.”

You huff as you sit at the table. It’s not fair how easily he gets under your skin with his words and sweet promises. And his promises definitely sound too good to be true. You can’t help but wonder if you’ll ever stop feeling shy after getting fucked so thoroughly by Caleb. Will there ever be a day when he doesn’t make your skin burn with so much pent-up desire?

Caleb interrupts your spiraling thoughts, nudging the plate of food toward you. “I can still see those gears turning in your head, makin’ you wonder if there’s still a reason to be shy. Stop worrying so much, pip-squeak,” he scolds you gently. “Or else next time, I'll have to make sure you feel so good that your pretty head can’t think anymore.”

dni banner by @/cafekitsune

[mind-empty-just-fictional-people]

omg if you’re writing for Dr. Abbot can I send a request inspired by Dr. King slipping in the blood but instead it’s the reader. But this time she doesn’t catch herself and lands on the floor. Obviously nothing serious but Abbot turns full protective doctor boyfriend mode, whisking her into a room, and assesses her for concussion, etc. Meanwhile she just insists he kiss her all better 🤭

Safety Net

main masterlist | the pitt masterlist

pairing: dr. jack abbott x female nurse!reader

rating: R for pitt type of blood

word count: 0.5k

warnings: blood, pitt type of violence

author’s note: thank you for the request anon! sorry it’s so short <3 also love that this guy's been in only three episodes yet we're all obsessed with him lol

It was a busy day in The Pitt. There had been a three-car pile-up accident not half a block away, and everyone involved had been sent here. There were in total eight people, not including the three who died on the way to the hospital. The whole ER was in a frenzy, everyone working double time to save the patients.

There was a pool of blood on the floor near the front desk that the cleaning crew hadn’t gotten a chance to clean up yet. 

You were rushing from one patient (the driver of the second car) to get to Robby and ask him a question. (Robby was working on a passenger from the third car.)

As you hurried down the hallways and turned the corner, you slipped and hit the ground, knocking the back of your head against the hard floor. The blood on the floor seeped through your scrubs and dampened your back.

“Fuck,” you grumbled.

“Y/n!” Jack exclaimed as he hurried over to help you up. “Babe, are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you mumbled as he helped you stand up. He cupped your face in his hands and looked into your eyes.

“You sure you’re okay?” he asked again, and you nodded. “I’m not buying it.”

“Jack–”

“Don’t ‘Jack’ me, I’m getting you a room.”

“I really don’t need a room–”

“Sure you do, you just hit your head, you could have a concussion.”

“I don’t have a concussion.”

Despite your best efforts to assure him you were fine, Jack hurried you away to an empty room so he could assess the situation and find out if you had a concussion.

“I’m gonna order you a CT scan,” he said nonchalantly. 

“I really don’t need a CT scan!” 

“I’m gonna get you a new pair of scrubs, you stay here,” he said.

“Now that I do need.”

When he came back with the scrubs, you quickly changed into the clean ones and tossed your old ones in a pile on the floor.

“Okay, let’s start with the basics,” he said. “How many fingers am I holding up?”

“Three.”

“That’s good. Follow my finger.” Left, right, up, and down, he moved his finger in front of your eyes. “Extraocular muscles seem to be intact.” He then took out his flashlight and looked at your eyes again. “Pupils are reactive to light, that’s good.”

“Jack… I’m fine,” you laughed a little.

“You don’t know that for sure; you could still have a concussion. Any nausea?”

“Nope.”

“Dizziness? Sensitivity to light?” 

“None of that, Jack.”

“Okay, good,” he breathed. For the first time since your fall, he seemed to be relieved. “You should still get the CT scan I ordered, just to be safe.”

“Well, I do have a bit of a headache,” you admitted. 

“What? Y/n, that’s not a good sign!”

“Just… kiss it better?” you asked, batting your eyelashes at him. (That always made him weak in the knees, and you knew it.)

He sighed. You knew just how to calm him down. You placed your hands on his cheeks and smiled at him. 

“Please?” You pouted your lips dramatically, and he rolled his eyes a little before he leaned in and kissed you.

“Better?” he asked.

“Much,” you replied and kissed him again.

[melverie]

on a scale of 1 to satan how bbg is mephisto

Satan has had far more time to establish his place as the ultimate babygirl (to me at least), so I can't give Mephisto the honor of being anywhere near his level but man the devs are making sure that he's at least getting close

I mean he

is the local horsegirl

apparently has a massive sweet tooth

stakes his entire self-worth on being useful to the future ruler of the land

seems to be great with kids

is super diligent. Just look at how much effort he is putting into journalism despite absolutely having no interest in pursuing that field in the future

is an honorary member of the Anti-Lucifer League, yet refuses to spread any false information about him in the school newspaper and mostly ends up singing his praises instead

runs said newspaper (and as someone who did the same for a year, I respect that a lot)

isn't really all that interested in MC, which is a nice change of pace

and finally, seems to dye his hair purple which makes him look like an eggplant <3

Also when he saved MC from falling on the ground and then brushed it off afterwards because he "only did what anyone would have done" back in season 4? That part was so good

ALSO Solmare could easily give him the perfect blushing face. Just look at him

[pbpressure]

trust me? | p.b

pairing: paige bueckers x fem!reader

warnings: smut, fluff, sub!paige, soft dom!reader, sex toy usage, spit, slight tribbing, fingering, overstimulation(?), i think that’s all but feel free to lmk if i missed anything!

wc: 4.4k (pwp)

summary: reader wants to try something new with paige after an impromptu trip to the sex store. based on this request!

author's note: i couldn't finish up the fic that i wanted to upload for valentine's day so we're scrapping it for now and ima leave y'all with this! it's different for me to write sub!paige but i think i like how it came out and maybe i'll get more into it for future posts! once again, thank you to the anon that sent this request, hopefully you enjoy it a little more than everyone else! (ngl i didn’t really proofread this so we’re giving it to god…and as always if you hate it idc DON’T tell me)

also that uconn vs south carolina game has given me the serotonin boost needed to carry me through this month AND march, they make me so proud😭 y’all better be tuned in for the game tonight vs seton hall :) i’m manifesting more pg paige and some beautiful uconn hoops!

okay sorry i’m done talking, enjoy! x

nervous was an understatement. how do you bring up the idea of topping your girlfriend…to her? considering you hadn’t thought about how to do so prior to this moment, the nerves seemed normal.

you took a spontaneous trip to your favorite sex shop without telling paige and you blacked out when you got inside, overwhelmed by all the options without your girlfriend by your side to give you her opinion. 

immediately once you had eyes on it you’d settled for a dual bullet vibrator, paired with a remote. the thought of paige using it on you immediately causes you to hold your breath a little. but the thought of you using it on her had you b-lining to the register and giddy and running up the stairs at home to hide it while she was asleep on the couch.

after some pondering, you’d figured it would be a little too easy to ask. it was essentially a yes or no question, and she’d honestly answer in a heartbeat, but you wanted to ensure that she’d be at your mercy.

you settled on the idea of a nice candlelit dinner for the both of you to butter her up. then you’d “pop the question”. 

you were back out of the house as soon as you’d returned, texting paige that you were heading out for some groceries, tucking the “gift” away.

by the time you were back she was wide awake and pretty tuned in to whatever she had playing on the tv. she heard you coming in the door and met you there to greet you sweetly and take any bags from your hands. she sets them down on the counter and starts to reach in, almost too fast for you to remember that she was supposed to be hands off and out of the kitchen for tonight.

“noo, wait let me do it! i wanna cook dinner for you so i’ll put things away.“

“cook for me? baby, what’s the occasion? literally we just celebrated valentine’s day.” okay, so she was already asking you questions.

“shh, no occasion. i just love you and i want to practice making some things. then i’ll be cooking for you all the time instead of…almost never” you respond in a rush, sort of frowning at the last part but still prying her hands off the bags and lightly pushing her out of the kitchen.

you can hear her muttering under her breath but nonetheless she turns on her heels to press a kiss to your lips and whisper a quick “missed you” before turning back around to leave.

your heart swells in your chest at the thought of how sweet she is to you while you put away everything and set out what you were gonna make.

you wanted to get a little fixed up, or at least out of one pair of sweatpants and into another. slipping past paige, who was once again focused on the tv, you headed upstairs. 

after putting on the smallest bit of makeup and fiddling with your hair you grin at your reflection in the mirror. the thought of getting pretty for your girlfriend enough to make your stomach jump. you throw on a pair of loose fitting pants and one of your teenier tops. you’d even saved up to buy another overpriced lingerie set and you had it on underneath, intending for p to see you in it and immediately want it off.

paige walks into the bathroom ready to shower and stops directly behind you in the mirror, letting out a small noise of shock. 

“all this for me? okay now i really need to know what’s going on.” she questions, now standing so close that you could feel her body heat on your back.

“nothing is going on! i told you i wanted to cook for you tonight, can’t i look good while doing it?” you reply, holding eye contact with her in the mirror and ending your sentence with a mini eye roll.

she lifts a hand from her side and places it right underneath your bust, slightly on your ribs, pulling you even further into her.

“you always look good for me baby, but i’ll let you have this.” she teases, kissing your temple and continuing her stride to the shower.

as soon as she was facing away from you, you were staring hard. watching the muscles in her back strain against her shirt when she reached for a towel, you trailed your eyes up and down her frame.

you wish you had her underneath you right now.

stopping yourself you huff slightly and make your way down to the kitchen to get started on dinner. you get in with the “harder” more time consuming parts first so you could focus and shortly the whole process starts to breeze by. 

everything thus far was perfect, especially for a meal that didn’t technically require a recipe.

you hear the water of the shower shut off and a few other noises upstairs. this allows you to anticipate paige emerging from your shared bedroom and getting a whiff of the home cooked meal, immediately on track to fold for you like you needed. 

when she does make her way into the kitchen you’re standing over a cutting board gathering some stuff to chop.

“it smells so good in here baby, oh my god” you hear paige from behind you. then you feel her. hands gravitating to your hips as always and she gently places her chin on your shoulder, her front molding to your back.

“i’m just making a lil something…since i was finally given some time to put some groceries in the fridge. we’re gonna eat something home cooked and actually fulfilling tonight, no fast food, no take out. made with lots of love.” you say, a smile plastered on your face at the domestic feel of this entire moment.

just you and the prettiest girl in the world, standing in your shared living space while you prepared dinner as a way to treat yourselves. 

“i don’t even know what you’re making and i’m drooling over it, guess you’ve still got your touch.” she teases, nudging your cheek with her nose and leaving a light smack on your ass.

“STILL? get out of the kitchen.” you respond, stifling a laugh of your own at how ridiculous she was. “it’s almost done and i’ve already set the table, maybe pour yourself a glass of wine and get out of my way?”

“yes ma’am.” she snorts, holding her hands up in fake defense and shaking her head a little.

you quickly plate everything, mentally saving yourself a pat on the back for how good it truly did look.

sneaking a peek into the dining room you see paige on her phone, eyes low and cheeks already a little rosy as a result of her now finished glasses of wine.

“hey pretty girl, dinner is ready!” you call out, assuming she’d want to carry your plates to the table as she always did.

her lips form an “o” as she locks eyes with the food on the counter and then her eyes pan over to you. if looks could talk her eyes would definitely be confessing their love to you right now. 

feeling shy under her gaze you shake your head and go in for a hug, slightly nuzzling into her chest. you pull back, tilt your head up, and she’s already looking back at you. you both pull back cheesing, not needing to say much.

“babe this is a little too much, you didn’t have to– wait, are you tryna butter me up?” paige breaks the silence.

“butter you up? mmm, maybe…but that doesn’t mean i didn’t want to cook for you. it’s like the cherry on top, please just enjoy yourself baby c’mon!” you plead, stepping back from her to hold her hands in your own.

“okay…” she mutters, before repeating the words cherry on top underneath her breath and giggling. 

she grabs your plates and walks them to the table as you follow closely behind and take your spot across from her.

you’re only two bites in before you hear her again, “okay but seriously what is it? the suspense is killing me.”

“can’t you just eat your food first?” you laugh, shaking your head and taking another bite.

“i think we both know i can multitask, answer the question.” she responds, taking a bite of her food and a sip from her wine glass.

“i promise you will find out when we finish our meal,” you dodge again.

paige smacks her lips a little, a smile fighting for its life to stay hidden.

she does let it go, or so you’d hoped. and dinner goes well. eventually you’re just poking at what’s left on your plate while paige rambles a little. she’d cleared whatever she had in front of her a bit ago but you’d managed to get her talking to avoid her disrupting your own train of thought.

she pauses between sentences and your mouth moves faster than your thoughts.

“p, you trust me right?” you genuinely ask, already nervous again.

“of course baby, what’s going on?” she asks, placing her hand over yours on the table.

“i, i got uh– well i wanna show you something, if that’s okay?” you taunt a bit, lacing your fingers together and getting up from your seat at the table.

her eyebrows furrow a little and she smirks before getting up with you. you begin leading her to your bedroom and stop a few paces from the door to face her. you place your hands on her chest, before allowing them to creep up and secure behind her neck.

“you’re so beautiful,” you whisper, a very visible glint in your eyes.

before she can respond you pull her down to your height and connect your lips. you sigh into the kiss when you feel her hands immediately on your ass and her tilting her head to deepen the kiss. you open your mouth the slightest bit and feel her tongue meet your own. if you weren’t hot before from the wine, you definitely were now. 

you pull back completely and smirk before turning around and heading directly into the bedroom, a slight sway in your hips.

you guide paige onto the bed and she plops down a little, you perched at her side.

“earlier today, i was shopping around and i found something that i wanted to see if you’re interested in.” you trail off, getting up to fetch the discreet packaging that you knew for a fact paige was familiar with.

“mhm, and what is this ‘something’?” she proceeds, holding up her own air quotes. her eyes on yours and one of her eyebrows raised the tiniest bit. almost challenging you.

you pull the toy out of the bag, seeing as you had already taken them out of their packaging earlier to prep.

paige’s expression is hard to read and you can tell she’s leaving space for you to answer her unspoken questions, her breath hitching.

you climb on top of her holding the toy at your side. you catch her eyes fell onto your lips, glossy and parted to speak.

“i just saw this and thought we could try something new? specifically me, trying it out on the both of us.” you ask, or tell her rather. voice a little low but not wavering at all.

“baby i’m all yours, i want whatever you want.” she utters, hands lightly gripping your thighs.

“i’m so happy to hear you say that,” you smile.

you lean down, your weight falling onto your hand that’s now right beside paige’s head. you hold eye contact for as long as you can before you connect your lips again in another kiss. this one less gentle, some notable urge behind it. paige moans immediately kissing back, her hands back on your ass when your tongue slips between her lips to meet her own. 

you pull back to catch your breath, also opting to shed your shirt and reveal your other surprise for her. 

“fuck, are you serious?” paige groans. immediately drawn to the teacup bralette that held your tits just right, but also left you exposed with the mesh on the front of it.

“you like?” you ask, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth to stop yourself from laughing at the expression on her face.

“baby you know i do, cmon” 

“let me show you the rest of it then?” you finish, pushing up onto your knees so you could rid yourself of your pants.

your panties are the same mesh as the bralette, but they’re lacking the smallest piece of fabric. 

they’re crotchless.

you swear you can see the girl in front of you drool a little when she realizes. paige’s eyes are blown out and her mouth is agape when she sees you kneeling in front of her, practically naked.

“do you wanna shed some layers too p? i’m getting impatient,” you tease, watching as she scoffs a little before sitting up to pull her own shirt over her head. 

you have to stop yourself from getting too distracted by her taut abdomen and the little bit of cleavage that’s exposed when she presses her arms together, tugging her sleeves off. as soon as the shirt hits the floor of your bedroom you have your hands in the waistband of her pants, locking eyes with her. she tilts her head in a small nod that signals you to continue.

when you’re both lacking a good amount of clothing you crawl over her. your panties allowing your bare clit to rest on her lap and you hiss at the contact. you grab her hand and place it over your front, hinting at her to fondle your nipples over the thin fabric of your bralette.

“you’re unreal,” you hear paige utter from underneath you, her eyes watching your puffy clit glide messily over her slightly covered bottom half. the sight causes you to swallow a mix of a chuckle and a moan.

“yeah? tell me more.” you respond, breathless as you reach for her other hand, bringing two of her fingers up to your mouth. you kiss them gently and then wrap your lips around her fingertips.

knowing that this gets her going you’re not shocked at how her eyelids flutter before she takes her bottom lip between her teeth.

“you cooked me dinner and now you’re dressed in some of the best lingerie i’ve ever seen, plus you got your pussy in my lap. that’s as good as it gets, baby.” paige answers you, pinching your nipple between two of her fingers and smirking when you sigh and lick at your already glossy lips.

“only the best for you,” you start, pulling her hand away from your lips and toying at the waistband of her underwear, ready for those to come off too.

when her bottom half is completely bare you reach for the vibrators on the bed. 

“take off your bra.” you demand, raising an eyebrow at your girlfriend whilst putting some more distance between the two.

she complies easily and now she is beneath you, completely naked. a slight sheen of sweat on her chest that’s rising and falling a little quicker than before. she’s nervous.

you down and place a hand on her hip while you tongue at her nipples, they’re already hard from being exposed to the air in your bedroom. you don’t miss how pretty she sounds when she lets out a whine, her hand securing itself on the back of your head to hold you closer if even possible. 

“for once i just want to please you baby, i think this is the perfect way to make sure that we both get what we need. just lay back for me and enjoy yourself.” you utter into the empty silence, voice breathy while you sit up again and take one end of the toy, putting it in your mouth to wet.

paige’s mouth opens and she doesn’t say anything but you can tell she’s trying hard not to.

with the remote in your hand you immediately switch the speed to 2 and place it on the nipple that your mouth was on moments ago.

paige arches her back off the bed slightly, eyes immediately squeezing shut. this is already everything you want and you’re just getting started.

“fuck, baby what are you doing–“

“ah ah, remember just enjoy yourself, let me worry about what’s going on.” you shush her, circling her nipple with the vibrating bullet.

she looks beautiful under you like this. her cheeks are red, head thrown back in pleasure as her hips start to move beneath you on instinct.

“m-more, please i want more” she moans, lifting her head up, only to drop it again when she gets sight of you. 

your hair is a little messy from tossing your head side to side and the look in your eyes is sultry. plus you’ve got a vibrator held onto her nipple and she swears she can see a wet spot on her skin from you rutting against her. if it was possible she would’ve cum just from watching you touch her.

“more? what do you want? baby you have to tell me.” you taunt, already gripping the other end of the vibrator in your free hand.

“i’m so wet, i know you can feel it. t-touch me? please? mmmh–“ she cuts herself off when she feels the vibrations on her nipple intensify. the speed was now at 3…and then it was at 4.

“you’re even prettier when you beg p, have i ever told you that?”

“n-no, fuck” she hisses.

“well, you’re usually so in control. i just have to say i love seeing you like this.”

with a light touch you trace some shapes on the outside of her thigh before spreading her legs, your eyes immediately drawn to the wet spot underneath her on her bed. 

“you weren’t lying baby, you’re already making a mess and i haven’t even done anything yet.” you don’t give her much time to say anything in response, gathering all the spit into your mouth and pushing it from your lips so that it lands on her clit in a glob. it’s nasty, just how you both like it and paige lets out another surprisingly high pitched noise. her hole clenching around nothing.

sitting back on your heels between her legs you take your hand that’s holding the vibrator to her nipple and you switch sides. when you see how puffy and red the one that was previously receiving attention is, you almost feel bad, but that feeling doesn’t last long. 

while paige is trying to catch her breath you take the other end of the vibrator and start tracing circles around her clit, before pulling it away again. she cries out, realizing that you were going to keep teasing her.

landing a smack on her hip to get her to drop them down towards the bed again you drag the bullet up and down the length of her pussy, your eyes never leaving her face as she was putting on a show.

“mmm– please just do something baby, anything. i don’t know how much more of this i can take.” paige whines, then reaches out for you. you lean away from her touch.

“you’re good with the safe word?” you ask, tone a little more serious than you intended.

“yes of course baby, just– OH FUCK!”

before she can say anything else you’re pushing the bullet into her fluttering hole, holding in a moan at how tight she is.

“how’s that?” you tease, completely inserting the toy.

“shit– it’s perfect baby,”

“i bet.”

pulling away the end of the vibrator that was on her nipple you lean down again to take it in your mouth. once more she’s cradling your head, this time a little harder. she wants you close, it’s cute.

using little force you pump the bullet into her, listening for her sounds of satisfaction. 

pulling off of her nipple with a pop you watch as she fights to pry her eyes open.

“baby, k-kiss me?” she says, or rather pleads.

your heart beats faster at how desperate she sounds. you grant her the kiss and it’s hot, sloppy, and leaves a string of spit between the two of you when you pull away while she chases after you with her lips.

“my god p, you’re such a good girl for me. who would’ve thought?” you whisper right in her face, smirking a little as she huffs in disappointment when you lean back and away from her again.

“i’ll be a good girl for you any time you want baby, just please don’t stop.” she groans, gushing around the toy inside of her.

“oh really, any time? you promise?” 

an image flashes in your head and before you can think about it too much you’re releasing paige’s leg from your grip, pulling the vibrator out of her and increasing the speed to 5. you pull your left leg up and drape it over her right, almost in a split, pulling the vibrator out of her and pressing it down on her clit with a good amount of pressure. 

her upper half jolts once again, as she raises her head just in time to watch you press your clit down on the vibrator as well, sandwiching it between the two of you.

paige almost screams when you put your entire weight down. your own jaw falls slack and you throw your head back, squeezing your eyes shut.

“p, oh my god– FUCK i can’t believe i thought of this. you’re doing so good, my messy baby. i wish you could see yourself right now.”

leaning down to smack a wet kiss in the middle of her chest you grab the remote in your free hand and turn up the speed to 6. whimpering and crying out into paige’s skin that’s beneath your lips. another loud whine leaves the back of her throat, followed by a grunt and a string of curses.

“i-i can’t”

“you can.”

you use her mouth to wet two of your fingers, she sucks on them sloppily, barely able to focus on the action due to the intense pressure on her clit from both you and the vibrator. you pull them from her lips, with a pop, before you trail them down to between her thighs, circling her hole one last time with your fingertips.

“SHIT– i’m so close baby” paige yelps, starting to huff her breaths out faster when she feels you pressing down harder, using your weight to move the shiny bullet against the both of you slightly. 

she attempts to close her legs around your hand and fails due to the position you were in.

“i know pretty girl i know, m-me too, just hold out a little more hmm?”

turning the vibrator to its highest speed of 7 you pump your middle and ring finger into paige, choking on your own breath at the feeling of her clenching around you and the bullet beneath you violating your clit at this point. 

paige lets out a sob, bringing one of her arms to cover her face. you reach up with the hand that’s not inside of her and rip her arm back. you watch her intently, tears hot and heavy on her cheeks blurring her vision.

“fuck–, paige you look so perfect when you cry.”

“it hurts so good baby, don’t stop“

“you’re close aren’t you? give it to me, cmon, i’m right there with you. i want all you’ve got.”

at this point you have no idea what’s coming out of your mouth but you don’t give a fuck, trying to hold onto your orgasm intending for the girl underneath you to finish first.

and finish she did. smacking your hand off of her arm she reaches down to hold your hips still against her own, tears falling rapidly from her eyes now. 

you don’t know if she’s just really spent or if it’s you that’s spent because you can’t register the words coming out of her mouth while she’s riding out her high. except the last three she matters as soon as you pull your fingers from her leaking cunt.

“i love you”

this sends you over the edge and you have to use every little bit of strength left in you not to collapse directly into paige. 

moaning pornography as your hole spasms around nothing you can only withstand the vibrator for another millisecond before you reach down to snatch it off of the two of you.

you do actually fall onto paige after this but she’s starting to catch her breath now so she welcomes you with open arms, still panting loudly.

you lay a mess between her legs with your head on her chest and your body trembling a little.

when you calm down enough you crane your neck to get a glimpse of your girlfriend. your hand instinctively reaching up to wipe the remainder of tears from her face.

“p, you did so well for me baby. thank you for letting me try that with you” you whisper, pecking her chest gently.

she doesn’t open her eyes, you assume she probably can’t after the amount of energy that orgasm must’ve exerted from her. but she replies nonetheless.

“i already told you, i’ll do anything for you anytime you want. all you have to do is ask.” 

“yeah yeah whatever, just kiss me and go to sleep.”

she actually does open her eyes. they’re glossed over and a little red and puffy from the crying but just as you had mentioned earlier, she looked so gorgeous. 

lifting her head just enough to meet you halfway she slots her lips against your own. the entire moment is so sweet, your entire body feels warm again. the thought of this girl being yours for the rest of your life crosses your mind.

when you pull back you’ve got a goofy grin on your face and you rest your head back on her chest before letting out a deep breath and closing your eyes again. 

paige’s body moves a little and you recognize the motion as her chuckling, before she opens her mouth one final time.

“i can’t wait to use that toy on you next. only. on you.”

[varesai]

WE NEED THE COMFORTT FOR THE BLIND READER FUN YOU CAN’T LEAVE US HANGING LIKE THIS?????? (can’t do angst no comfort 😔)

-> blinded mistakes - happy ending

synopsis -> your husband feels bad for the way he snapped the other day. how does he make it up to you?

a/n -> approximately 28 people have asked for a part 2. this is insane i have so many people to tag (who aren't anons, obviously) BUT THANKS FOR ALL THE LOVE ON MY OTHER ONE OMGGGGG!!!! i love u all sm

warnings -> crying, but that's kinda all lol. this ones mostly just fluff!

w/c -> 951

-> kamisato ayato

it’s been a few days since the argument. 

ayato had been given an extension due to his circumstances, and didn’t have to worry about the ruined papers due to the kindness from the city's higher-ups who assigned him such papers in the first place. a lot of them were salvageable, too.

once he finished them, he leaned back, smiling from the stress relief. he got up, grabbed a cup of tea from the kitchen, and realized something.

you weren’t in the main room, waiting for him to leave his office so you two could spend some time together.

he then thought back about the events that took place. his chest immediately fills with regret at the words spoken to you. coincidentally, ayaka walked into the room.

“ayaka, have you seen y/n?” he hurried to his sister, who simply sighed.

“they’ve been in their room. they’ve been beating themselves up about the incident, so now they’re afriad of moving incase they bother you more,” she brushed past him. “good luck making amends. they’re incredibly hurt.”

he nodded, processing the information. he pacewalked to your shared bedroom, where he opened the door to see your sleeping form. 

he sat next to you, stroking your hair until you woke up. when you felt a hand on top of your head, you flinched a little bit.

“who’s there?” you said in a soft voice, unwilling to cause more issues by lashing out or showing aggression. 

“ayato,” he took his hand off your head. “i’ve come to say i’m sorry.”

you got up and found the headboard, slowly resting yourself up on it. “why all of the sudden? i hope you understand that you really hurt me, ayato. i’ve been too scared to get up these last few days because of the way you made me feel. the only times i’ve gotten up were to go to the restroom, bathe, and eat, but thoma would bring me something here. i still think about the words you said and your gestures.”

he looked down, sighing. he didn’t realize how much of an effect his words and actions had on you, but now that he’s hearing it from you, it seems like two more tons added to his shoulders. “don’t worry about it. it was salvageable, and you hadn’t ruined anything.”

“i wish you told me that when it happened, ayato,” you started to tear up. “i forgive you, but i don’t want to hear that again. it made me feel like shit.”

he nodded, hugging you tight, letting you cry into his shoulder. you felt around his body to realize he was wearing his white and blue suit, the one he usually goes out to fight in. 

“i’m not ruining this suit, right…?” you brought your face off his shoulder, but he immediately shoved it back in the same spot, silently telling you the obvious answer. 

he was glad he was able to resolve things. he couldn’t imagine a life without you.

-> wriothesley

it’s been about a week since wriothesley has seen you. he figured you went out of the fortress, staying over at a hotel or with a friend, like navia or chlorinde. he pretty much figured it would be chlorinde, considering she hasn’t come down to the fortress or has tried to initiate contact with him since the incident. 

he figured he’d try knocking on both doors, starting with navia. once navia told him everything he needed to know; that you were with chlorinde, he rushed over to her place.

“what are you doing here?” she scoffs as she opened the door, leaning against the doorframe. “your wife told me everything. i hope to trust that you didn’t embarrass her in front of the people who work for the palais mermonia, especially monsieur neuvillette himself.”

he shook his head, rubbing at his temples. “just let me see her, would you? i want to apologize.”

she nodded, clearing the doorway, allowing him to rush into the spare bedroom. 

you knew he was the one coming towards your room, considering his footsteps were a lot heavier than anyone you’ve ever known. his were tough, threatening. 

“wriothesley! w-what are you-” you started, your heart beating a little faster.

“i want to apologize for the things i said. i didn’t have to completely redo all my papers, and neuvillette understood the situation, and i was able to get an extent.”

you shook your head. “so you embarrassed me then, huh? you told them everything? that your stupid blind wife who is not even near good enough for you ruined your work?” 

he was speechless. he didn’t know how to respond to that sentence, so he put his hands on your shoulders, asking for silent permission to take you into a hug. once you nodded, he embraced you tightly. 

“no, i didn’t tell them that. i told him it was just a spill, and that i was able to save some of the papers. neuvillette is a very understanding man, and this never happens. i never need new copies or need extents, so he was willing to do it this time. nothing about you came up in our conversation,” he swallowed a lump in his throat before going on. “and you’re not stupid. you’re also the perfect choice for me, not good enough my ass. no matter what i have to do to make you see that, just because you have a disability doesn’t mean you’re unworthy.”

you started to cry, letting the tears spill into his chest, creating a damp spot on his tie. 

“so you don’t hate me then?” you sniffed.

“no, not at all. i couldn’t bring myself to hate you for something as dumb as that.”

[cheolieji]

Hi hi~

I saw ur post abt svt asks and not sure if you were taking abt ot13 or individual one's but here's a LENGHTY one anyways. & it's totally cool if u don't want to tho.

New bf Vern × reader where he's leaving the house and forgets his wallet so you say "aren't you forgetting something" and he thinks you're talking abt him not kissing u b4 leaving & he's confused cuz he never kisses u b4 leaving but does it anyways and gets all shy and flushed when u say u were talking abt his wallet

(Shy vern is my roman empire)

first kiss - chwe hansol

hi anon!! thank you for the request and I am so sorry for the late reply lol

(I absolutely love this ask btw) and yes for reactions you can also request if you want specific members!

guide for requesting on my page [17] (pink highlighted)

a short fic

fluff below the cut

Vernon was standing by the door, pulling his hoodie over his head and adjusting it to sit just right. His sneakers were already on, and he was patting his pockets, making sure he had his phone and keys. You sat on the arm of the couch, watching him with a soft smile.

When he finally seemed satisfied that he had everything, he gave you a quick, lopsided grin. “Alright, I’m heading out,” he said, reaching for the door handle.

You bit back a smile and called out, “Aren't you forgetting something?”

He froze, turning to look at you with a slightly confused expression. His eyebrows furrowed as he patted his pockets again, mumbling, “Phone... keys...” under his breath.

When he couldn’t figure it out, he just gave you a small shrug, as if to say, I don’t know. Then, almost on instinct, he stepped closer, resting his hands on your hips and giving you a soft, unhurried kiss.

Your mind went blank for a second, and when he pulled back, he gave you a tiny, satisfied smile. “There,” he murmured. “That it?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, cheeks warming as you lightly slapped his chest. “That’s not what I meant!”

He blinked, clearly caught off guard, and looked down at his chest where your hand had landed, then back up at you. “Wait... it wasn’t?”

You shook your head, pointing to the side table where his wallet sat, completely forgotten. His mouth formed a small “oh,” and he let out an embarrassed laugh, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Right,” he said, grabbing it and shoving it into his pocket. He shot you a sheepish grin, his cheeks just a little bit pink. “I swear I’m not usually this forgetful.”

You snorted, giving him a teasing look. “Sure you’re not. I think your brain took the day off.”

He just grinned, shrugging one shoulder. “Maybe. Good thing you’re here to keep me straight.”

You rolled your eyes, still smiling, and he leaned in to give you one more quick peck on the lips—this time, entirely intentional.

“Alright, for real this time. I’ll text you later,” he promised, giving your hand a little squeeze before finally heading out the door.

As soon as he left, you fell back onto the couch, grinning like an idiot and still feeling the warmth of his kiss lingering on your lips.

[thekoalapastriesbakery]

CAUGHT IN THE CLUB

max verstappen x male!reader

request: (i haven’t requested anything from you before so bear with me) i’m sure we’ve all seen that video of max almost making out with a guy while blackout drunk (if you haven’t i am begging you check it out bc he was fully gonna shove his tongue down that guys throat). i wanted to ask if you could write anything abt it being max and his boyfriend in the video and they’re worried that people are gonna figure it out when the video comes out but fans are just kinda like “nah he just kinda does that” 💀 idrk but i thought it’d be fun. also wanted to ask if i could be 🐠 anon??

summary: max gets a little frivolous when he's had a few drinks.

warnings: suggestive content, mildly anxious/insecure!max, drunk!max, references to sex tapes, mild jealousy and very mild possessiveness

word count: 719 words

you knew going out with max was risky.

it wasn't that you didn't love your boyfriend or didn't want to celebrate with him—of course you did!—but with the two of you being secretly gay, a little more discretion was required.

max had begged you time and time again to go to a club with him if (when) he secured the championship. he knew you were trying to keep the relationship mostly secret. he just wanted one night to celebrate with his boyfriend. and, with it being a bit of a rockier season than expected, how could you say no?

the night went relatively smoothly. nobody other than max's family knew who you were, and nobody bothered to ask. max managed to keep his hands to himself for the most part. except for a few moments where he had dragged you into a darkened corner of the club to drunkenly ramble between kisses. usually, you were pretty good at noticing when you needed to get him home before he started trying to get you to fuck him in broad daylight. however, with the crowded club and max being passed from team member to team member, it was harder to keep track of just how drunk he was.

all the red bull staff and a fair chunk of the grid were packed onto the dance floor. in the darkened room with strobe lights blaring and music so loud you could barely hear yourself think, nobody noticed when max dragged you into the fray. at least, you didn't think they did.

you didn't know (though you really should've) that there was a camera on the two of you. in your defense, you might've had a few drinks—but even if you hadn't, the noise and lighting would've been more than enough to disorient you. that, and the fact that max looked just about ready to start making out with you right then and there. no way you were paying attention to anything else. you barely had the mental clarity to start dragging your suddenly very publicly affectionate boyfriend back to the hotel room.

the next morning—between winces at the stinging of the long scratches down your back—you discovered the video.

"maaaax," you called out. the stress in your voice caused his name to stretch on your tongue.

a sleepy grumble came from beneath the mountain of blankets.

"love, wake up." you shook his shoulders, but max only whined in response. "somebody took a video of us last night."

he shot up in an instant. a little whimper escaped his plush pink lips at the ache between his thighs, but he brushed it off for the moment. there were more important things to worry about—like your relationship being exposed. all because he begged you to go to that stupid club.

max buried his face in his hands. "i'm so sorry."

"what? why are you sorry?"

"because … because it's supposed to be a secret that we're boyfriends and now everyone must know …" max explained guiltily.

"maxie … being a secret isn't that important to me. and it's not like you posted the video."

"you sure?" he asked, audibly uncertain. "you're not mad?"

"not at all."

how the internet reacted was … it was the opposite of what you and max expected. for starters, not a single person recognised you. thank god for that. so, really, people were only reacting to max looking like he wanted to shove his tongue down the throat of a random guy. which, you had to agree, was in-character and downright hilarious.

"come on, love, it's not that bad," you reasoned, stifling laughter.

max gave you an indignant look. "everyone thinks i'm some kind of manwhore!"

"well …" you trailed off with a grin. "you are a bit of a slut."

"i am fucking not."

you raised an eyebrow at him and, eventually, he relented.

"okay, fine, maybe i'm a bit of a slut. but only for you."

"damn right." you tugged max closer and kissed him. "now i gotta show 'em you won't just look at anyone like that."

safe to say, it was another long night and, if a new video happened to hit the f1 sphere with someone who looked suspiciously similar to four-time world driver's champion max verstappen getting fucked, then so be it.

©thekoalapastriesbakery :: please do not copy or rewrite my work on any platform !!

author's note: that video was insane and honestly i had lil fic ideas in my head since i saw it but i wasn't planning on write anything about it until i got this request. and yes, you can absolutely have that emoji anon <3

the video

comments + reblogs appreciated!

taglist: @raizelchrysanderoctavius @crispysoup318 @op-81-lvr-reblogs @ncrsbrg @spoonfulofmilo @justaf1girl @widow-cevans

[runnning-outof-time]

Hi! For the celebration, how about… “Do you know you’re bleeding?” with Tommy.

Maybe a more light hearted protective Tommy situation <3

Hi there, anon! Thanks for sending this in! I’m sorry it took a little bit for me to get to. I love me some protective Tommy! I hope you like what I did with the prompt. Enjoy! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Part of my 3.5k Celebration — find more stories here!

An Unfortunate Accident

Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: language, blood

Word Count: 601

Summary: When Tommy finds (Y/N) injured after something silly happened to her, he immediately thinks the worst.

“Shit,” (Y/N) hissed as she quickly cradled her hand against her chest. She gritted her teeth as a surge of pain quickly shot down her arm. “Shit, shit, shit!”

She looked around the kitchen. There has to be something I can use to cover this, she thought to herself as the pain grew stronger. Footsteps sounded off the hardwood just as she managed to grab one of the dish towels sitting on the counter. A quick spin to face the archway told her that Tommy had entered the room. Shit.

“Hi, Tommy,” she tried to sound as nonchalant as possible as she greeted her husband. Her both hands were now hdiden behind her back, and she was placing as much pressure on her injury as possible. “You’re home early,” she commented sheepishly.

“Not really,” he answered, his brows furrowing slightly as he took in the sight of her. “What’s happened?” he asked her then, closing the gap between them as worry seeped into his features. Between her frazzled state and how things looked, his mind was starting to create several scenarios.

“What?” her question came out like a breath, her heart hammering in her chest.

“Do you know you’re bleeding?” he asked.

“I’m not,” she dismissed him, speaking a little too quickly for her liking.

“You are. It’s all over your dress, love,” he answered, motioning to the article of clothing. (Y/N) quickly looked down to see that the front of her dress was indeed stained crimson. A sigh left her lips. “So tell me the truth. What happened?” he asked again, his voice level, his tone one that she couldn’t argue with.

“You’re going to laugh,” she sighed, her sheepishness returning.

“I’m not,” he assured her with a slight shake of his head, his eyes still focused on her.

(Y/N) held his gaze for a few moments, still weighing it all out in her mind. Tommy kept his eyes on her, his eyebrows raising after a few seconds of silence had passed - his nonverbal way of saying ‘I’m waiting’.

One more sigh escaped her lips before she finally brought her (now blood-stained) cloth-covered hand back into view. “I, uh…I was chopping some of the vegetables, and a bird flew into the window. The bang it made scared me and my hand slipped. I sliced my finger pretty good.”

“A bird?” Tommy questioned, incredulousness seeping into his words. His eyes left hers, albeit for a moment, to glance out the window…as if said bird was still going to be hovering there.

“Yes, a bloody bird,” (Y/N) answered, a dire earnestness present in her voice. She watched her husband’s face carefully, waiting for what she knew would becoming. The second she saw his lips twitch, she jumped on him. “You said you weren’t going to laugh!” she exclaimed.

“I’m not laughing!” he defended himself, although he couldn’t help but let a few chuckles out. This made (Y/N) glare at him, and she smacked him on the chest without thinking.

“Ow! Fuck. Tommy!” she exclaimed, her eyes wide with pain.

“Didn’t quite think that one through, eh?” he questioned with a chuckle. (Y/N) couldn’t even be mad at him…he was right. “Lemme see it,” he said then, coaxing her to show him her injured hand.

It took a few moments, but she showed it to him. “It’s bad, isn’t it?” she asked, cringing at the sight of it.

“I’ve seen worse,” he answered, glancing up at her to send a smile before focusing on her hand again, “let’s get it cleaned up.”

*tags in reblog so that hopefully they get sent out.

MASTERLIST