#the claims being. i am coming home to you the feeling of being in motion again baby im speeding and red lights ill run

[lamentablequeen]

the more notes i make for this webweave the more i realize that a webweave is just an essay with the restriction that you can't use any words, you just have to cite other people's and use the juxtaposition of a bunch of images and quotes to make your claim and also i think i could for real fuck upppppppp some art analysis essays

[pineconepie]

parental yandere guardian angel perhaps?? 👀

TW: Violence, infantilization, mentioned stalking(?), parental yandere, alcohol, attempted mugging

...

You drag out a long sigh, not bothering to look the presence you know is next to you in the eye. For days he's been following you around like some puppy looking for attention, and you're more than tired of it.

"I do not like these bars," Seradiel murmurs. "There's all sorts of harmful people around. Are you trying to make my job harder?"

"A pointless job, might I add," you chuckle humorlessly. "You don't need to watch after me like I'm some baby. And for the record, you don't need to be sitting next to me 24/7, either."

At first, you thought Seradiel was crazy when he claimed to be your guardian angel, but ever since you nearly got ran over from not looking both ways on the street, the dude had been following you everywhere like some sort of shadow.

He said he had been guarding over you ever since you were a newborn, but decided to make his presence known ever since that incident.

He would appear out of nowhere in your house while you were sleeping and making sure you're breathing right, or follow you on walks, protecting you from any potential danger.

Seradiel's frown deepens. "Either way, you won't approve. If I watch you from afar, you claim that's creepy; but if I make myself known, you get annoyed."

You give Seradiel a pointed look. "That's because most people don't have an angel follow them around all the time."

He shakes his head. "That isn't true. Everyone has an angel. Some are just less dedicated than I am."

A groan escapes you. What kind of excuse is that?

You wave him off. "Can you at least, I don't know, sit at another table? The waiters keep looking our way since they can't see you and probably think I'm talking to myself like a crazy person."

"No, they can see me. I just don't have wings in anyone else's vision," he claims. "They're probably giving funny looks because of our conversation."

"Whatever," you mutter under your breath. "Why are you so dedicated, as you claim?"

He ruffles your hair. "Because you're like my baby. Sure, you may have biological parents, but even they don't share the same kind of connection with you as I do. After all, I've been watching over you ever since your first moments of life. I've spent more time with you than anyone else on this Earth has. And you were such a sweet child. Sometimes I wonder if you miss those days as much as I do."

"Not at all," you mutter, even though that isn't true at all. "So you just watched me my whole life?"

"Of course. Therefore, you are essentially like my child. And no good parent would allow their child to wander around such a sketchy establishment like this." He motions towards the dimly lit, rather unimpressive bar.

"Any good parent would let their adult child do what they please, because they're an adult." You take another sip from your cup. The liquid burns your throat going down, and you almost immediately feel drowsier and more light-headed. Seradiel yanks the cup away from you. "Hey! What the hell, I paid for that!" You reach for it back.

"You've had too much already," he scolds. "Now let's leave." He grabs your hand and leads you out. With you stumbling after him, you finally make it onto the street outside and head home.

The walk is silent other than your occasional hiccup. But every few minutes, Seradiel makes sure you're still lucid.

"Just leave me alone," you whine. "Please. I want just a minute of independence, I can't do anything without you hovering over me! Is that too much to ask?"

Seradiel's eyes narrow. "Is that so?" Without warning, he lets go of your hand. "Fine. If you'd like to be a brat, we can play your game."

He disappears in an instant. Despite the fact that you were begging for him to stop being so clingy, you find yourself strangely unsettled at his departure, as if something's missing.

Nonetheless, you decide to ignore it; he'll come back eventually.

You continue your drunken stumble back home.

However, you barely make it another block before you hear the sound of footsteps behind you.

Normally you would've ignored it, but combined with how late it was and how sketchy the bar itself was, you pick up your pace. Whoever was behind you speeds up also.

Now more than nervous, you start running, not caring about how lightheaded you felt and how awful your body ached.

Whoever was following you started running after you now, and in the dead silence of night you can hear their rapid steps thumping against the ground.

Their heavy breathing rings through the air, and your heart drops when you realize they were gaining on you.

Before you knew it, a firm hand wrapped around your arm, yanking you to a stop.

The person has a knife, dressed in all black clothing, looking eerily similar to someone who was ready to commit murder.

"Empty your wallet now," he hisses. "And don't make any noise. If you try to scream, I'll cut off your fucking tongue."

You scramble to empty your wallet. There isn't much money in there, which just pisses him off.

"That's it? That can't be all you have," he snarls. He backhands you in anger, causing you to stumble back. You rub your face where he struck you, crawling backwards as he rummages through your things himself. However, he only finds a couple pieces of gum. He looks even more angered by this outcome, reaching for his knife again.

"Seradiel!" you cry out, shutting your eyes tight. "I'm sorry! Please help me!"

Suddenly, there's a gust of wind. Your eyes fly open, and in front of you is none other than Seradiel. He stands tall, looming over your mugger with his white wings stretching out like a curtain to conceal you. His golden hair shines in the moonlight. Although usually calm, his demeanor has completely changed.

His eyes are now slit into furious daggers glaring straight ahead at your mugger.

"What the hell..." the man mutters.

With no words, Seradiel reaches forward and grabs the assailant by the neck, throwing him across the road and into a wall like the assailant is merely paper trash.

Seradiel begins to stalk towards the mugger, who's coughing violently from the impact. "I usually hold empathy for criminals like yourself; just trying to survive. But then you decided to try and hurt my child," Seradiel growls. You've never seen such fury radiating from his usually calm appearance. He looks more than capable of murdering the mugger then and there.

The assailant scrambles backwards, attempting to stand. Unfortunately for him, before he can rise Seradiel is upon him again. The angel knocks the mugger off their feet and kicks them, sending them flying backwards.

He grabs the knife he dropped, twirling it between his fingers.

"Hmm. Should I kill him?" Seradiel asks, turning towards you. He doesn't even look remorseful. On the contrary, he looks emotionless; he doesn't care if the criminal lives or dies. It was like he was asking you to pass him salt on the dinner table.

"No," you whisper. "Please don't. I just want to go home. Let's just go home, please."

"Alright. As long as he apologizes." He turns back to the assailant. "Well?"

The attacker sobs and nods. "Okay! Okay, I'm sorry! I'll never do it again!"

"And give them back their belongings," Seradiel adds.

The mugger obliges and hands all your belongings back to the angel. Once Seradiel steps aside, he scrambles away until you can't see him anymore.

He turns to face you again, his expression immediately softening. You instinctively take a step back. Seeing him switch demeanors so quickly is shocking.

"My love," Seradiel murmurs softly. "I told you it wasn't safe here. Are you okay?" He approaches you cautiously. He takes out his handkerchief to dab the bleeding scratch on your cheek. Then he inspects you, making sure you haven't sustained any other injuries. "See what happens when you walk alone? This is why I need to watch over you at all times. Does that not make sense to you yet?"

He puts his arms underneath your legs and back, picking you up. You bury your face in his robes.

"I don't like bars," you mumble quietly. "I promise I won't go to another one."

"Not just bars. Everywhere is dangerous. It's a good thing I'm your guardian angel; the world would eat you alive otherwise," he mumbles. "Oh, little lamb. What will Papa do with you?" He kisses the top of your head while carrying you.

It's not the first time he's referred to himself as that word. Papa.

In some ways, it makes sense; he does act very fatherly and treats you like his baby.

Still, you have mixed feelings about him. You still can't wipe the vision from your mind of him brutally beating up your mugger just minutes ago.

"Aren't angels against violence?" you rasp.

He shakes his head. "Not in cases such as those. Angels protect others. Most just happen to use violence as the last resort. And I will always protect my children."

"How many children do you have?"

"You're the only one," Seradiel coos. "And trust me, I love you very much. I hope this was a valuable lesson for you."

You fall into silence once again, clutching his robes.

When you finally arrive home, he opens the door for you. "Is there anything you'd like to say?"

"...thank you, for protecting me," you mutter under your breath.

He gives you a smile, but it's far from gentle. No, it looks almost... proud, victorious. "Of course. Just remember that I'll always be here to keep you safe."

[bloodstainedsapphic]

thunderstorms

took some heavy liberties with week 3 of @thatdammchickennugget and i's jinxed july challenge to write the forced proximity mattheo riddle fic of my dreams. i hope you enjoy it just as much as i do. and also big thanks to @pizzaapeteer for proofing, i love you! 2.5k words | fluff? i think | f!reader implied

Snap. Another twig breaks underneath the tattered soles of your shoes while you continue the trek along the less-traveled grove. The air is thick with the scent of wildflowers and earth, and sunlight filters down on you through the leafy branches, casting shadows on the greenery that litters the forest floor. It is pristine, seemingly unaffected by too much human activity. 

That is until Mattheo and you embarked on an increasingly futile mission imposed by your one common interest - your mutual friend Enzo. He had eagerly insisted that it be the two of you that forage for an ingredient native to the area, claiming that adding it to a drink mix can get you wasted quicker than any brew sold in shops.

The pair of you had done well not to stumble too far from Enzo's parents' summer home. A generous invitation had been offered to your friend's group - a chance to relax and kick back there over the long weekend. A relatively secluded area, it is sparsely populated by second homes of the upper class or rickety cabins so old that not even magic can prevent them from slowly succumbing to the elements. Everyone tries to enjoy the spoils of the location's offerings, as it is a sweet spot to spend the few warmer months in Britain.

"Y'know, I am not an outdoorsy guy," Mattheo complains after another branch scrapes his forearm. "This is the dumbest mission Enzo could have sent us on."

"At least we can agree on one thing," you mutter exasperatedly. "I should have known you'd have no sense of your lefts and rights."

Two steps ahead of you, Mattheo pauses and looks back, his expression suggesting, 'You want to go there?' His brows raise, and his chocolate curls still fall perfectly over his forehead despite endless collisions with twigs and branches. Honestly, you were unsure if his looks or personality irked you more. You glare back so he knows exactly how you feel about the situation.

"Right, take no accountability for being one-half of why we are still out here," Mattheo responded in kind, then turning back to continue leading the way.

"You are rid-"

"Ridiculously handsome? I know. Come up with some new material, sweetheart," Mattheo interrupts with his unending cocky attitude. Preparing to unleash more insults, you are startled by the feeling of a cold drop on your head. Then another. And another.

A loud clap echoes above, booming in the sky, followed shortly by the rapid motion of overcast clouds moving in, blocking out any remaining sunlight. A second roar of thunder bursts, sending out another warning that a storm is fast approaching. The sudden singular drop quickly builds into a consistent shower, and the panic sets in over the both of you. Mattheo takes charge, gesturing for you to follow him and for once, you decide to take his lead without talking back, which might have been a mistake as you continue deeper into the forest and further away from the house.

Minutes felt like hours under the increasingly ceaseless downpour as you and Mattheo scrambled through the grove. Finally spotting an old cabin structure, you make a break for it and dash underneath the awning for some reprieve. Mattheo vigorously jiggles the knob of the dilapidated door, seeming to forget his wizarding abilities. Propelled by a clash of thunder, you watched Mattheo resort to brute force, managing to barrel through the door and get you two inside. 

Solely focused on escaping the pouring sky, you follow him in while heaving from the chaos.

"Nice going, genius," you admonished Mattheo while catching your breath. "Forget a first-year unlocking charm?"

"Ungrateful as ever," Mattheo responds gruffly, his amusement overshadowed by temporary exhaustion as he steps over and shuts the door that is barely held up on its hinges. "See? I got you out of the rain, and the door still works." 

The two of you take some time to shake yourselves off in a meager effort to eliminate that soaked feeling. Squeezing out your top,  you silently curse at the unpleasantness of your damp hair that now clings to your face. You looked over and watched Mattheo shaking his head, his hair splattering leftover water all over the vicinity.

"You're like a wet dog," you feign disgust, unable to resist a chance to tease.

"What else am I expected to do?" Mattheo countered, brushing his hands through his hair and hoping for the best.

"Be more tasteful with it," you suggested, suppressing a snort afterward at your own poor choice of words.

"Tasteful? You seriously went with tasteful?" Mattheo caught on, his disgruntled look from the uncomfortable wet transforming into a grin. "Bloody hell, sweetheart, I know you love my perfect curls, but that really is the least of my concerns." 

You coped by turning away to continue drying yourself off, hoping he did not see your disconcerted expression.

Once Mattheo reached a state of dampness he could live with, he stepped toward the intact windows to watch the storm outside. It was miraculous that a cabin as worse for wear as this one held its own against the onslaught.

"Well, we might be stuck here for some time. I suggest you get comfortable," Mattheo announced with a resigned sigh, glancing back to the room for potential spots to sit or, more accurately, the lack thereof. "The floor. The floor will do."

He follows through, eyeing spaces on the rickety floorboards to settle down. You roll your eyes at the idea, though the increasing weight of your legs after all that running starts to wear on you and beckon you down. So you give in, finding your own spot to settle, a perfectly reasonable distance from him. His eyes bore into you with an unreadable expression, a bit too analytical for your comfort. You are not too fond of him watching your every move. Not at all.

"Could you look elsewhere? I am not your prey to stalk," you finally snap. 

"What? This is just how I look at things. You cannot blame me; it is either you or the rotting walls," Mattheo retorts, emphasizing his point with a gesture of his hands.

"Your eyes are… they look too hard!" you complain amidst a struggle to find the right way to explain why his gaze ruffled you so much.

"Too hard? She thinks I look too hard, whatever the hell that means. Salazar, help us, a true wordsmith in the midst," Mattheo complained to himself, ensuring his frustration was loud enough to invite further squabbling.

"I am just saying! Look elsewhere!" you insisted.

"I can't help it. You are more interesting-looking," Mattheo justified through gritted teeth, his increasing annoyance evident.

"Interesting-looking? And you accuse me of being unable to talk today. Is that meant to be a compliment?"

"Tell me you would not have my head if I called you pretty, so interesting it is!" Mattheo growled in a harsh but earnest tone. He shook his head, jaw clenched to the point of discomfort over what he admitted. Just to add to the pettiness, he scooted to face even further away from your direction.

This development undoubtedly took you by surprise, silencing you momentarily in your conversation. You always had a comeback for Mattheo, but this was the first time you had absolutely no clue how to retaliate.

"Pretty?" you repeated, pushing aside your dignity to clarify you had heard correctly.

"Yes, pretty," Mattheo confirmed, his voice huskier than the bellowing moments prior. "Is that such a shock to you?"

It honestly did feel like a shock. In all the time you had known each other, the words you exchanged were cheeky at best and plain disrespectful at worst. A more tender way of describing you was not something you expected to come from Mattheo at all.

"It is. I thought I was just your favorite punching bag," you admitted. 

"Oh, please. Do you honestly believe I would answer you at all if I really could not stand you? Perhaps you are more dimwitted than I initially presumed."

"I just thought—"

"And given that I have seen you quite literally punch some poor bloke who truly bothered you, I assumed you fell into a similar train of thought, no?"

Hell, you hated it when he was right. Something about Mattheo kept you coming back for more in a way that couldn't simply be attributed to the proximity of your friend group. The feelings creeping up inside you now had less to do with being stuck in a cabin with him through a storm and more with how this predicament forced you to come to terms with how you truly felt. You visibly shifted where you sat as feelings you had no clue how to handle washed over you more intensely than the rain still pouring outside.

Mattheo rose again without warning and stalked around the cabin, this time on a mission.

"What are you doing?"

"A blanket, a towel. Something to warm you up," he replied, his attention fixed on his newfound goal, which was an insatiable need to help and protect you in your wetted state. 

"You do not have to! It will probably be full of mildew should you even find one," you protested through your sheer surprise at his kind gesture.

Initially written off as too damp to use, the fireplace centered on the cabin's back wall was suddenly vital to Mattheo's mission. Finally remembering that he was a wizard, Mattheo reached into his back pocket, pulled out his wand, and crouched in front of the fireplace.

"Incendio…" he spoke the incantation, causing a flame to spout from his wand toward the firewood on top of the grate, hoping they were not too far gone from the elements.

To your shared relief, a small fire came to life before your eyes, its glow brightening your dampened spirits which was soon followed by an embrace of its much-needed heat. 

"Yes!" Mattheo hissed excitedly, hurriedly gesturing you to come closer, and you did. The previous distance you had created no longer mattered, as you were now shoulder-to-shoulder with him for a chance to enjoy the warmth provided by the lit fireplace.

With the both of you too focused on warming up by the crackling flames and learning to ignore the blaring storm outside, peaceful silence hung in the air. A mutual respect arose between you as you ruminated over the afternoon's events.

You glanced at Mattheo, whose shoulder you were now definitely pressed against, and seized the opportunity to check him out shamelessly. He was right; that penetrative gaze remained even in his resting state. The light from the fire highlighted the warmth in his eyes that usually matched the dark of night, and his brown locks that had dried into bouncy coils perfectly suited his chiseled structure. The last remaining baby fat on his cheeks softened his enigmatic look, especially in more calm instances such as this. Few were treated to such a view of him, let alone have the capacity to appreciate it like you did. Wait - appreciating him? He seems to catch on simultaneously, the corners of his lips twitching in satisfaction over your turn to gaze.

"I am not your prey to stalk," he abruptly spoke up in a high-pitched, mocking tone to mimic your previous dramatics. You pushed your shoulder against him further as a hollow threat to get him to quit his teasing.

"You look too hardddd."

"Stopppp," you plead, pressing against him again, which causes him to turn to you finally. That stupid, intense gaze again was now much too close for comfort.

Mattheo scoops your hands into his larger, calloused ones, suddenly enclosing yours. He begins rubbing them, his touch creating a friction that warms your fingers, and despite your confusion, you don't immediately pull away.

"What are you doing?"

"Trying to warm you up."

"It is still summer. They are not that cold, really…"

"Let me just have this excuse to hold your hands," Mattheo says hushedly, shutting down all of your protests. His touch is comforting, so you allow it.

"Forward this evening, are we?" you still can not resist asking with a raised brow.

"Maybe. But when else will we be trapped for a night like this?" Mattheo was right again, blasted. The bubbling chemistry was now utterly unavoidable, and this night was simply the catalyst for this new beginning.

Still, it was so recent that you likely would not change your behavior towards each other once you returned to your friends, who were probably worried sick about your whereabouts. The storm was still raging, so you just accepted that it would be easier to call it a night instead of waiting for it to pass or even worse; risking your safety by trudging through it. You silently agreed with Mattheo to let this evening run its natural course, showing your reciprocated feelings by allowing him to continue creating friction with your hands via a similar technique used to make a fire.

The rest of the evening went by uneventfully as you cozied up to each other, finding yourself leaning more into him as your lids grew heavier with tiredness.

Mattheo took on the role of a pillow, pressing his back to the floor and letting you lay against him, going as far as draping your leg over his and resting your head on his chest. The resistant part of you wanted to claim this was merely to survive the night, but Merlin, he was easy to sink into. No longer fighting the call of rest, your last conscious moment was the feeling of Mattheo pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before sleep took over.

—-------------

The chirping of birds and light rays seeping into the small windows of the cabin signaled it was time to wake up. You two had stayed wrapped up in each other for the night, which was probably the sole reason you felt at all rested.

The warm embrace of Mattheo kept you tucked cozily into his arms, providing a warmth that was now overwhelmingly hot in the morning summer heat. Suddenly, the chatter of approaching voices traveled around the hollowness of the cabin before the distinctive voice of Enzo called out. "It only took a dangerous thunderstorm to bring you two together," he remarked, a wicked grin matching his chirpy tone. You looked up to meet his gaze through the cracked window, which illuminated your intimate position with Mattheo. The cheeky disturbance startled Mattheo awake with a jump, groaning at the loud intrusion of his mates' voices.

You observed through squinted eyes as Mattheo and Enzo began quarreling. Amidst the light-hearted chaos, you heard snippets like 'It's not what it looks like!' and 'The ingredients search was a load of bollocks, wasn't it?' The goal to save face came second to your relief at rejoining your friends.

A ruse that had gotten way out of hand landed you in the last place you would have expected this morning, but the possibilities it offered left you nervous but hopeful. You watched a bit longer before stretching and getting up to join, armed with your own silly defenses over why you were caught in Mattheo's arms as the lot of you made your way back to the summer home.

[sweatyracoon]

i need to get this off my chest..

could i request a seungmin x reader where she just marks up his chest cause.. seungchest supremacy… (add any storyline leading up to it)

SEUNGCHEST SEUNGCHEST SEUNGCHEST

✨Seungchest Supremacy ✨

A/n: Girl- 🫠the things he made me feel when I saw these photos; him in that tank top?!? I literally died. I believe in Seungchest Supremacy 🫡

Warnings: biting, licking, marking, hickeys, MDNI, language, clingy reader, etc

When you watched the video he sent you of him at the Chanel ad, you nearly choked.

Though you had both been together for nearly a year, you had never been intimate. Nor had he ever bothered wearing a tank top. But the new Skz code showed you just how beautiful he had gotten.

And the Chanel ad? You nearly started foaming at the mouth at the sight of your boyfriend.

His neatly cut hair just made him seem more mature, accentuating his features, his gaze sharper.

You watched the Christmas video at least a million times before he texted you he was headed back home.

You counted the hours you had until you saw him again, hoping he was still wearing that beautiful outfit that showed off more than your used to.

Despite it being a suit, you saw that if he bent down, you could see the chest you've been dying to claim.

Yes...you had a but of a marking kink, and Seungmin knew that, but neither of you explored it, thinking it would cross boundaries.

You have never had sex, but light make out sessions were a must.

It was four am, but you were wide awake. You heard the lock click from your seat on the couch, the door creaking open slowly.

He must have thought you were asleep, because he left his bag by the door,.and walked towards your shared room.

"Minnie?" Your voice made him jump and spin towards the couch.

"Baby? Why are you up?" He asked softly, pulling his hat from his head.

You were disappointed to see him in a sweater and a pair of shorts, but he still looked as handsome as ever.

"Wanted to see you..." You muttered back as he grabbed your hand, motioning for you to stand.

You obeyed, and he led you to the bedroom.

"Here, I'm just gonna take a quick shower, okay? Then I'm all yours," he grinned, sitting you in the plush blankets.

"Do you need to? Its been two weeks," you playfully whine, making him laugh.

God, his laugh was like music to you. You wanted to hear it forever.

"Yes, babe. The plane was all stuffy, and I'm sweaty. Just give me five minutes, okay?" He was already grabbing his sleep clothes, noticing the t shirt in his hand.

"Hey, Min?" You stopped him, coming up with a plan. He looked at you.

"I think I'm going to run the heater tonight. You should wear a tank top so you don't burn," you shifted, waiting for his answer.

All he did was nod and replace the clothing in his hands for something cooler, and you internally celebrated when he grabbed his black tank top.

When the door shut behind him, you squirmed with joy, making the bed to get comfortable.

You had the pillows set up a certain way since you were sleeping by yourself for the longest time, but now you move them so you can sleep with your boyfriend.

As promised, five minutes passed, and he emerged from the connecting bathroom red. Hot shower.

A towel wrapped around his head as he scrubbed it against his scalp, making sure it wasn't soaking the pillows, or you.

When he lifted his head from the cloth, you gasped.

His hair stuck to his forehead, shiny under the lighting of your lamp. His facial expression made you clench your thighs together. He tilted his head back with a long sigh.

"I needed that," he groaned, popping his neck.

You finally brought your eyes down to his sleepwear. A black tank, and plaid bottoms.

You have seen his arms before, wearing the same tank top. But that was a year ago before he started going to the gym with the guys.

Now he filled it out, his chest slightly larger, and his shoulders broad and muscly.

You nearly drooled.

"And I need you! Now get in bed!" You giggled, watching as he threw the towel to the side of the bed with a smile.

He climbed up against you, kissing your forehead.

"Someone's needy," he smirked, lying down next to you.

"Always," you respond, making his face flush slightly.

"So, I just want to let you know, that that outfit for your Christmas ad? Fucking hot, Min. Did you bring it home?" You started, tracing patterns onto his hare shoulder.

He choked on air, not used to you swearing.

"What? No-" he cleared his throat. He never handled compliments well. "I-It was a part of their collection. Couldn't take it," He got quiet towards the end, making you smile.

But he didn't acknowledge your compliment.

"Didn't you hear me Seung?" You lifted your head.

"Yes...?" He looked up at you confused. The patterns on his shoulder stopped.

"What did I say then?" You challenge, your face serious.

You wanted him to know just what he did to you. How good he looked. You know he doesn't believe that he looks good, that he isn't as liked as you think. But you wanted to show him.

"That you liked the outfit?" He replied, tilting his head.

He reminded you of a lost puppy.

"Your missing an important part, Min. That you were hot...ARE hot. Wanna hear what my favorite part was?" You leaned down, your hair falling to frame his face.

"I-What? Uhm," he licked his lips. "What was, y/n?" He couldn't look away from you, your body nearly on top of his, filling his senses.

"You've never been one to show off, you know? But recently, your showing more. That outfit did very little to cover your chest. Anytime you moved a certain way, I could see into your suit, Minnie. God! Why show it off to stay before me?" You groaned, resting your chin in his collar bone.

His breathing had gotten heavier as he listened to your pleading words, slightly aroused by your stern tone.

"I never knew you wanted to see my chest that bad. You could've just asked," he muttered, eyes shutting as his cheeks reddened.

You lifted your head again, your lips hovering over his.

"Could I have?"

He was quiet. You both knew that you wouldn't have asked. But he would have given you anything you wanted. Will give you anything you want.

The only reason why you two hadn't had sex is because he wasn't sure if you wanted to. He would never have asked because he didn't want to make you uncomfortable.

You smiled, leaning in to capture his lips. It was slow, but gradually became more heated as the seconds passed, your body heat fusing with his, your breaths mingling. You pushed your tongue into his mouth,.moaning at the chance to taste him again.

He gripped your hips, grounding himself. He had always loved kissing you. It sent him into a whole new world. He would call it heaven if it made sense.

You pulled away, making him whine.

"Let me see your chest? I'll show you just how much I like it," you waggle your brows, giving him the choice. It was up to him. He sat the pace.

Without a word, he brought his had to the hem, slowly dragging it up his torso, giving you a show.

You sat patiently, enjoying the slow reveal of his beautiful body.

He had a light ab silhouette, making your eyes widen. You didn't know he had abs?! You wanted to lick them, but you stopped yourself. You'll get there later.

Once he brought it over the peak of his chest, he rested the fabric on his collar bones, moving his hand back to his side.

"This okay, baby?" You asked as you brought your head down to his torso, your breath hitting his heated skin.

He nodded. "Please," he whispered, and that was all you need to hear.

Above his left peck, you latched on, sucking gently before sucking harder. You grazed your teeth against his skin, and the sound he made made your eyes roll back.

He whimpered, his eyes shutting from the pleasure. You didn't know he was sensitive here.

You moved all around the nipple, avoiding it on purpose, trying to get a reaction. All you'd get was light moans and whines, but that was enough for you. Any sound of his like these you could listen to forever.

After leaving many marks, you finally brought your hot mouth to his nipple, and flicking the bud with your tongue.

His back arched in the bed, a loud moan eliciting from him. It made you grin against him, nipping lightly at him. He groaned, his hand coming up to fist your hair.

He didn't pull, but held you. It was feather light, and you knew he didn't want to hurt you.

You switched sides, your hand stimulating the one you just sucked, his head turning to the side as he sobbed from the overstimulation. His moan grew louder, his hips jolting up into the air. You looked in your peripheral, his thighs shaking as he dug his heels into the bed.

He's gonna cum, you realized, joy surging through you.

This will be the first time you ever make him cum, and just from marking his chest? Definitely an ego boost.

You go back to focusing on your sweet boyfriend, licking a long stripe from one nipple to the next, constantly switch so each one gets more sensitive.

"Y/n! Please..." He begged, making you pause for just a second to think.

Then you go back to it, sucking harder, but this time, letting your elbow brush against his clothed cock.

You barely touched him, but his head shot back, moaning louder as his hips twitched, his abs convulsing underneath your arm.

He came!

You lift yourself off his chest with a loud 'pop', drool coating your chin as you watched your boyfriend come down from his high.

His lidded eyes looked at you, his face and neck tinted red.

"That felt so good, baby," he mumbled, jaw numb from being open that long.

"You have a sensitive chest, Min. It's cute," you tease, pecking his lips before laying down beside him once again.

"If I knew, I would have told you. Thank you," He said before grabbing your hand, and bringing it up to his mouth to kiss.

"Your welcome. Believe me now?" You twist so your fully facing him.

"Yes..." He was still breathing heavy,.but it was more normal. He flashed you a loving smile before sitting up. "I'm going to change real quick, okay?"

He left to put on a t shirt and a pair of shorts, but you didn't mind. You got what you wanted, and even so, you can't deny the fact he looks good in a shirt.

"I love you, y/n," he kissed your nose after he got comfortable next to you.

"I love you too, Seungmin," You smile before cuddling against him.

[yxtubers]

𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐝𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐡

matt sturniolo x reader (fluff)

summary: matt gets his wisdom teeth taken out, which makes him incredibly clingy

warnings/notes: reader is referred to as ‘girlfriend’ , that’s about it

requested?: yes!

> > >

Matt had been having tooth pains for weeks now. Every time you urged him to go to the dentist, he would just claim that he hated the dentist and that the pain wasn’t a big deal anyway.

Clearly he was wrong. Sitting next to him as he woke up from his anesthetic daze, you wished you could tell him ‘I told you so’ but you decided to refrain until he was fully sobered up.

His eyes were squinted, probably sensitive to the light since he had been put to sleep for a while.

He looked around for a bit, adjusting to finally being awake. His eyes darted around vigorously once he couldn’t find you.

“Where’s my girlfriend?” he mumbled, disoriented at his surroundings.

You tried to stop yourself from laughing. You were literally beside him, but his drugged state impaired his common sense.

“I’m right here, love.”

Reaching over, you took his hand in yours, rubbing soothing circles over his skin.

“I missed you,” he said, his voice muffled by the gauze in his mouth.

“I’ve been here the whole time.”

You tried speaking gently since the doctors said to be patient and quiet with him in case he had vertigo or a headache.

“Why do I sound like that?” he asked almost childishly.

“You have gauze in your mouth. They took out your wisdom teeth, remember?”

You brushed his hair out of his eyes. Tucking some other strands behind his ear, you noticed the bewildered look in his eyes.

“They have my teeth?” he whispered.

You couldn’t help but giggle at him. He was so clueless it was adorable. “Yes, but they were bad teeth. The doctors made you all better.”

He nodded, seemingly understanding. He looked around once more, a confused look on his face.

“Can we go home? This place is creepy,” he said, his puffed out cheeks still impeding his speech. It took all his strength to be able to speak even somewhat coherently.

As soon as you got home, Matt was all over you.

He was leaning his head on your shoulder and gripping onto your arm, following you around wherever you went.

You didn’t mind. You actually found it cute - but you were worried for him. The doctors said he shouldn’t be walking around too much since he probably didn’t have a lot of balance.

“Hey how about we go lie down for a bit?” you asked him.

His eyes widened. Matt grabbed onto your arm with both hands now, looking up at you.

“Yeah! Will you lie with me?”

You smiled before nodding and helping him to his bedroom. You tucked him into bed before getting some water and painkillers for when he wakes up, but not without Matt whining for you to come back and cuddle with him.

You could hear a “where are youu?” from the room over as you scrambled to get as many supplies as possible.

His eyes were droopy when you came back into the room, head lolling to the side as he tried to fight off sleep. You set everything down next to him, including some clean gauze for him later. Changing them would be a pain in the ass but it doesn’t compare to how he’s about to feel in the next hour or so.

“Am I gonna hurt when I wake up?” he whined again as he made a grabby motion for you to come next to him.

Climbing into bed, you gently pressed a kiss to his forehead.

“Only for a little while, but I’ll be here to help.”

His lips broke out into a smile, his cheeks making him look like a chipmunk. Closing his eyes he cuddled into you, resting his head on your lap as you sat up in the bed.

“You’re the best,” he said as he drifted off to sleep.

- - -

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭:

@lollibumblebee

@d0wnt0wnstu4n1ol0

@gracietaylorsversions

@20nugs

@thetriplets3

@stxrniqlo

@sunshinewwx

[geothewriter]

Vermillion Seas Cardinal Skies: Chapter 29 - Resonance

Training time in Toph’s gauntlet means dealing with some uncomfortable truths that have slumbered just beneath the surface for far too long.

--

Hey y'all! Thursdays are coming rapidly along the path now, and it feels like I just posted the last chapter yesterday, yet here we are on the day I mentioned in chapter 28.

Today’s chapter is brought to you by the Melon Lord. May she have mercy on all our souls.

On a more serious note, #itshappening. The board is set, the pieces are in motion. We are on course to finish my first big long fic! I can’t believe I first posted this thing in October of 2023, and now we’re in 2025. It’s been a long journey, but it’s been so very enjoyable.

Thank you always, @achillmango. Your editing and support have been heaven-sent. Thank you again.

No more delays - please enjoy Chapter 29 - Resonance.

He can feel his mind struggling in the quiet calm of the night. Months of constant silence have given way to a cacophonous, gentle hum of whispered voices. The voices wake Aang in the middle of the night with his head throbbing for the fifth time in three hours after far too little sleep. It's too loud in his own mind, and it almost feels like there's an unconscious pull toward the sea, to the open, cool air above it. He opts for a glass of water instead. It's probably just a sign that he’s dehydrated.  In the minutes that follow, he meditates, calming the choir in his head, then forces himself back to bed.  Perhaps twenty minutes go by before he wakes again, then again. Restful sleep evades his clutches the entire night, except in the darkness just before morning, when a deep, perfect slumber claims him; complete silence embraces his body for ten minutes before the sunrise greets his room, signalling the start of his day.

-------------------------

“You really outdid yourself, Toph! This is incredible!” Sokka shouts across the chasm of exposed rock. The training ground stretches along the beach before wrapping inland through a Toph-made slot canyon. The narrow vertical walls extend for several hundred feet before opening into a wider ravine where strategically placed boulders sit at uneven intervals along its slopes. At the end of the ravine lies the most surprising aspect of her creation, an obsidian platform lined with boulders soaked in oil, ready to be lit.  “Where did you find a piece of obsidian this big in one piece?!” His jaw drops as he considers it. “That’s gotta be worth a fortune!” “Made it. Now, if you’re done being a slack-jawed dummy, there’s one last thing I need to do.”  He refuses to close his mouth as the young girl impales a melon atop a large stone spike, then bends a pair of arms from the rock before placing it atop the obsidian platform.  Toph’s excited voice betrays her attempted evil tones, “Behold! I am the Melon Lord! I will destroy everyone if you don't stop me! Beware my fire! Muahahaha!”  At first, Sokka is skeptical of the melon-topped mannequin, but hearing her cackle menacingly at the end of her monologue sends a legitimate chill down his spine. He’s so glad she’s on their side. He isn’t sure the world would be able to deal with two evil maniacs.  “Alright, alright! Save it for the training exercise!” He shouts, then clears his throat to address the others. “We’ve come a long way. From humble beginnings at the South Pole–”  “Get to the point, Sokka.” He can see Katara’s eyes rolling as she speaks.  Fine. No special pointers then. “Everyone. The comet arrives in less than a month, and for at least the next two weeks, this is going to be our home. We are going to eat, sleep, dream, and fight our way through this training ground until we’re ready to take down Fire Lord Ozai once and for all!”  He pauses and lets it all sink in before continuing. “Suki, you and I will handle the beach approach, taking down enemy resistance. Katara, you and Zuko will take the assault in the canyon and ravine. You’re the most capable of covering that much ground that quickly. Aang, you’re up last for the finale. You’ll take down the…uh… Melon Lord, when we’ve opened up the path for you.” “What about Toph?” Aang asks. “Toph will be running our training program,” Sokka replies dryly. “Blame her if you get hurt.”  “What he means,” Toph interjects, “Is that I’ll be handling any weak points during our actual take-down of the Loser Lord.”  He’s so glad she’s not really against them.  “Alright! Who's ready to kick some butt?”  “I am!” Toph shouts at the top of her lungs. “You losers better prepare yourselves! I’m not going easy on you!”  Great.

Continue reading on AO3.

[destinationtrekk]

arcadia

This is only a dream, and you will never hear that laugh again.

1.9k, wesker lives, referenced sex, flashbacks, angst with a happy ending, also kind of ambiguous ending, descriptions of depression

a/n: all my fics are cross posted to my ao3. named after the lana del rey song. also, i have a post-re5 wesker playlist if anyone wants it!!!

-> masterlist

-> arcadia on ao3

This day starts out like every other day since he died. 

You wake up an hour before your alarm, though you think it’s generous to say you woke up if you never really slept. Your bedside clock reads 5:09 am, and you crawl out of bed anyway. You start getting ready for work, carelessly throwing on something vaguely professional looking. You had taken up managing a few of his labs. Not doing any real science of course, you were never as smart as him, but helping with hiring and on-boarding, being the pretty face that introduces young people to the insanity that is - was - his world. 

You think they pity you, his employees and peers, because they ask quietly how you are, what have you been up to, how are you liking the job? You know they just want the gossip on how their dead boss’ widow is surviving without him. You had no clue where his money came from, or his nice house, his expensive cars, your expensive car he bought you. You had just taken everything he gave you with a blush and a smile, with devotion to him that ran deeper than blood. 

You were worried, once you were able to stop crying and pleading for him to come home, how you could possibly manage to handle his assets. You quickly realized he had taken care of it, he had taken care of everything, just like he always had. A lawyer stopped by and handed you a few files, apologized kindly, and left. You only read enough to know that the house was yours, and you had enough money in your bank account to last you the rest of your life, if you were smart with it. 

Now, you look at yourself in the mirror, your eye bags covered perfectly in makeup, and you feel sick. His towel is still hanging behind the door. His cologne is still sitting next to your perfume on the counter. You can’t bear to touch either. 

You drive his black Jaguar to work. You remember when he brought it home, angry after a long day and storming into the house like there wasn’t a sparkling new car in the driveway. You had calmed him down, and kissed him sweetly until he let you drive it to town for dinner. You park the car at the lab and don’t look back. 

Your day drags on but you can’t remember any of it. Everyday feels like this. You smile politely and drink coffee, shake hands and sit in meetings, drink more coffee. After lunch you make two cups of coffee, and you stare at the second cup with too much sugar and no cream until your eyes burn. You give it to an intern and ignore them when they try to thank you. 

Your drive home is stunted by an hour of traffic, so you turn the music up until your head pounds and you aren’t tempted to look in the back seat, where he had fucked you so hard on your anniversary that he scratched lines in the leather with his nails. 

It’s raining when you finally pull into the driveway. You go straight for the shower, scrubbing until your skin is pink and staring at nothing but his half empty shampoo bottle. You go through the motions of cooking dinner, but you feel too sick to eat. It gets portioned away in the fridge, where you know you’ll eventually just give it to someone at work, claiming you’re not hungry. 

You lay on the couch for a few hours, eyes staring unfocused at the TV screen, until you migrate to bed. You do the same under the cold covers, which smell of nothing but laundry detergent now. Your eyes fixed blank on the ceiling. You doze off, just to repeat the day again, and again, and again.

You're splayed across the couch, his broad form crushing you into the cushions. You're both laughing, gasping for air and clutching at each other like teenagers. You don't remember the joke, but you do remember the way his blonde hair glowed like an angel across the table at dinner, lit by candles and the rosy haze of a bottle of wine, domestic in your kitchen. He sits up, straddling your thighs with his own, and looms over you. His eyes glow red in the dim room, and you smile so wide you swear your mouth would be stuck like that. He leans down, whispering sweetly against your neck, hands gliding over your clothes, under them, touching your skin-

This is only a dream, and you will never hear that laugh again.

Before you know it, nearly a year has passed. You had stopped going to the labs a month ago, and soon after the BSAA raided every known location of his research. You don't know who the rat was, but you're happy he's not here to see it. You've done nothing with your time except sit around, cook too much food for one person, and occasionally go running until you make yourself sick.

You're having a... better day than usual. It sets you on edge, thinking that you're on the path to heal and move on. You don't ever want to move on, to forget him, but it's inevitable. You had gone into his closet tonight, taking a sweater much too big for you that had long lost his smell. It was only the second time you had touched his clothes, but you thought you could handle it. Now, laying curled in bed, his sweater nearly swallowing you, you weren't so sure.

He's been gone for a week, and you've taken to sleeping in his shirts. The expensive fabric wraps around you in a poor mimic of his calloused touch, but it smells like him. When he finally comes home, he finds you curled up in bed, face buried in his pillow. Obviously, he has no choice except to drop everything and crawl under the covers, wrapping you tight in his arms. You groan as you come to, immediately smiling as you recognize the vice grip he holds your body in. It makes you laugh, and your joyous sound makes him smile into your neck.

"Nice shirt you have there," he rumbles, breath warm against your cheek. "Where did that come from?"

You giggle and turn in his arms, and you press your lips to his. "Just some guy I met, no one special."

He rolls you onto your back, gaze dark and adoring, and-

You snap awake. The front door alarm was blaring through the speakers downstairs, but it was silent by the time you jumped off the mattress. The alarm could only be turned off with a code, which meant-

You felt panic begin the climb up your throat, and you scrambled for his pistol, still tucked neatly in his bedside table. Your steps were quiet, the gun raised as you searched the house. Nothing was out of the ordinary, until you rounded the corner to the kitchen. You froze immediately, gun falling to your side as your eyes widened in shock.

Albert was hunched over the sink, white-knuckling the counter. His head shot up as the sound of your gasp, his eyes meeting yours in the reflection of the window. The gun clattered to the ground beside you and you nearly fell to your knees. His arms were around you in an instant, holding you up against his chest. A sob escaped you, and you squeezed your eyes shut, shaking your head and struggling in his grip.

"Quit it, you animal." His voice was the same dark murmur, a deep rumble against your cheek as he held you still. One of his large hands was cupping your head against him, his other arm wrapped around your shoulders. He buried his nose in your hair, breathing deep while you cried and squirmed against him. "Relax, sweetheart, breathe."

A few moments later his grip has loosened enough for you to pull away, and your heart breaks all over again at the sight of him. His hair is longer than you've ever seen it, hanging limp over his forehead and curling slightly behind his ears. His eyes are a familiar red, but his exhaustion is palpable in the air around you. His hands come up to cup your cheeks, and your expression falls at the texture of his skin. Your head rears back, and you take his hands in yours. He's covered in thick scars, pink and white flesh rigid under your fingers. You look up at him, noticing the same scars climbing his neck and crawling over his cheekbone.You reach a hand up to cup his face, and a devastated sound leaves you when he leans into your palm. "Albert..."

He lets out a sigh and closes his eyes, turning to press his lips to your wrist. He doesn't need to say a word, not when you can still read each other perfectly even after a year apart. You can see it in the corners of his mouth, the stiff way he moves his shoulder, the rasp of his voice, like it takes too much effort to open his jaw. This isn't the same Wesker you lost. This is someone else entirely.

All at once, the person you used to be comes back, like you never lost them at all. You take his hand in yours and lead him to the guest bathroom downstairs, flicking the light on and pushing him to sit on the toilet lid. He's slouching and avoiding your gaze, an act so unlike him that it makes you pause. You make him undress to his boxers, and he obeys without question. Confusion and grief and relief are clouding your mind. You reach again for his cheeks, and you can tell he wants to resist but you pull him to face you anyway. Under the fluorescent lights his scars look even worse - no, you won't say worse, you love him - you trace the lines gently up to his cheekbone.

"Do they hurt?" You whisper, turning him to take a closer look.

He doesn't answer for a moment, and then barely tilts his head in a nod.

You apologize, and quickly pull your hands away. He grabs your wrists and holds you still, before correcting himself. "Just sensitive."

You can tell now that he isn't injured - he isn't bleeding at least. You spend a long moment just looking at him, taking in the ways his body has changed, and the ways it hasn't. He looks a little thin, his collar bones prominent, new scars riddling his skin that aren't from burns. However, the burns do continue past his neck. One of his shoulders looks, well, frankly it looks like it had been shredded - the thick burn scars the apparent reason for his stiff and pained movements on his right side. The scars continue down to his ribs, all the way to the v of his right hip, where they fade into smooth, unmarred skin.

The shock on your face must be apparent, because he reaches back for his shirt, and you quickly stop him, your voice breaking. "No, don't- I'm sorry, I just... how are you alive?"

He looks uncomfortable, his jaw clenched tight as he still avoids your eyes. "Honestly, I don't know. It's... a very long story." His voice is still hoarse, and you start to think it's not just from exhaustion.

He finally looks up at you, and his red eyes are wet. You decide then and there that, even if this is a dream, he's the most beautiful you've ever seen him.

"Then why don't you start from the beginning?"

[redr0sewrites]

If it wouldn’t be too much to ask can we get an angst Adam x reader?

Where reader is a winner waiting in heaven for Adam to return from extermination only for him to never show and being told by Emily or lute directly he died.

Please and thank you!

NONNIE WHY WOULD U DO THIS TO MEEEEEEEE <\\3

🥀Pt 2 HERE

🥀Cw: major character death, angst

the soft tapping of your foot against the marble floors echoed rhythmically throughout your shared home. shared with your lover of course, who had just flown off to this year's extermination. pacing up and down the kitchen floor, worries were seeping into your mind. despite your lover's reassurance, you still had the nagging feeling that something was amiss. you knew that Adam would be up against some of hells greatest powers, and while he had confidently assured you that the battle would be easy, you were still uncertain.

"dont worry toots, i'll be fiiiiine. i always am, eh? i'm THE Adam, i fucking rock! trust me babe, this fight will be over in minutes~" your lover leaned in to kiss your cheek before donning his helmet and taking off into the sky. as you watched him fly away, you tried to calm the worries soaring in your chest. Adam was right, he would be fine. he always was... right?

you replayed the scene in your mind again and again, trying to force yourself to remain calm. everything would be fine, Adam would come home and tackle you in a hug, then demand that you listen to him rant for the next few hours about each of his kills. suddenly, the rustle of wings and a loud thump outside of your door caught your attention. you ran towards your front door, excitement filling your body as relief curled into your soul. he was fine, of course he was fine! you tore open the door, expecting your lover's bright eyes and boastful expression to greet you. but it wasn't Adam at the door. it was Lute, looking bedraggled and worse for wear.

"Lute? what the fuck happened to your arm?!" you exclaim, motioning for her to come inside. Lute just shakes her head, a miserable look on her usually stern face. "Lute... where is Adam?" you try to remain calm as she just stares at you, pain and pity in her gaze. "he... in the battle, there were some... complications. Adam didn't make it," she whispered, handing you a bloody halo. ice cold shock flooded through you, soon melting into a burning pain coiled in your chest. you felt as though your insides were trying to break free, and you took the halo from her with shaky hands.

"where... where is his body," you whisper, voice low and sharp. Lute turned, refusing to even look at you. "we lost it, we had to retreat quickly and didn't have time to retrieve it..." your heart broke at her remorseful tone, and tears began to stream down your face. "i'm sorry y/n. there was nothing i could do-" you raised a hand to shush her, taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm yourself. your lovers cold halo was still heavy in your hand, just like the heavy ache in your heart.

"its not your fault, Lute. i just- i need some alone time to process- i don't know." you sigh, defeated and exhausted. "i think we all do," she whispered, looking at you again. then, Lute nodded understandingly, and flew off without another word. for a second you stood there, looking out at the beautiful skies of heaven. people always claimed that there were never bad days in heaven, but you felt as though your very soul was splitting in half. pain and remorse and anger seemed to be filling the empty pit in your heart, the fresh wound of Adam's loss already stung enough. you slam your door shut, throwing the halo across the ground and collapsing into your shared bed- now just yours. there was nothing you could do, and tears overcame you as the sound of sobbing echoed throughout your lonely home.

AUGHHHHHJH this hurts. i might make a pt2 where adam returns as a sinner and reunites with reader (only if yall want ofc) bc i HATe unhappy endings 😭

[sixerstanley]

fuck YESSSS micro macro cnc you are such a fucking brain genius. Sorry for continuing to dump long ass asks in here lmfao I think I just need to write a fic

Ford getting really into his role, treating Stan 'rough' (but they both know he's really still being gentle), tucking Stan in his palm and fondling him against his balls, squeezing Stan against his shaft in slow strokes. Really playing up how Stan is just a toy to him now. A perfect little plaything, just for Ford. And god if that doesn't get them both rock hard. Ford taunts Stan as he slides down, his little toy begging desperately but completely helpless, and Stan looks up to see Ford smiling in that egotistical, self-satisfied way as he watches Stan slide inside. Telling Stanley how nice it will be to keep him.

Stan spills inside, achingly hot and absolutely drenched within the pitch darkness of Ford's body, barely fitting in the small space that pulses around him, and when Ford tells him to get used to your new home, you'll be there for a while, Stan can't take it. He comes right then and there, and Ford feels the vibration of him crying out. Ford isn't far behind, balls clenching around Stan as he comes, nearly drowning him for just a moment before the pressure eases.

Ford and Stan both take a moment to recuperate, Ford cleaning himself up and taking a moment to idly palm himself, feeling Stan's little weight shift within. But the scene doesn't end quite yet.

From inside, Stan feels the pull of gravity roll its angle as Ford stands, the gentle sway as he walks. He hears the shuffling of cloth, and then - the loud, unmistakable sound of a zipper inches away. Ford's put his pants back on. He's getting dressed. With Stan still inside.

Stan feels the blood rush straight back to his dick as Ford does his very best to keep his composure, pretending that he's ignoring Stan even though he can feel every little shift and moan inside himself. He wanders down to his study, sitting at his desk (which shifts Stan's entire environment again), biting back his own sounds as he goes through the motions of working on his research. He's trying very, very hard to stay in character. But all he can think about is the feeling of Stan inside him, hidden away where no one can see. God, what if he went to port like this? He nearly breaks his pen with how hard he clenches it.

(Eventually one of them will tap out, because there's no way Stan's letting Ford cook dinner. But until then, Stan belongs to him.)

Anon I am literally asking for your hand in marriage PLEASE don't apologize

God yeah the like. Foreplay before putting Stan inside, playing with Stan and rubbing him against his cock. Maybe he even cums on him before, getting him all nice and slick and covered. Also he just--he can't stand how perfect this all is, having Stan in the palm of his hand and at his mercy

And with this character he's playing, he's allowing himself to be a tad rougher, and he gets a lil more unhinged with his possessiveness because he knows Stan likes it.

Ough I just. Stan trying to cry out and get his giant big brother to stop while in his head he's like (please don't stop please don't stop please don't stop)

ALSO. I had the thought of Ford, as part of the foreplay, pressing Stans face against the hole of his cock at first and I almost blacked out 😵‍💫

Like. "Yes, that's it Stanley. Stay--stay right there. Right there where I can see you. Right where I can claim you as mine. Nowhere to go, nowhere to run. You just have to stay there and take it." All while Stan is squirming and crying out . And then Ford cums like that <3

BUT YEAH THE WHOLE. Ford getting so worked up while he's playing this character who has to act indifferent and cruel but on the inside he's loving how much Stan is trusting him, and this just makes him so much hornier

Honestly part of me is like. Ford getting SOOOOO horny that he breaks character. Choking out saying he can't wait anymore, is it okay if he--

And Stan answers right away (not sure how they'd be able to communicate but they'd find a way, damn it) begging him to because he finds it SO HOT that Ford couldn't even KEEP IT TOGETHER

And then Ford goes crazy and jacks off. Probably while dirty talking too or just, less dirty talking and more saying whats driving him insane about the entire thing

Also, THE PART ABOUT FORD NEARLY DROWNING HIM IN HIS CUM? I'm. Oh God. Gets so hard I pass out

Anon please please please I'm.begging on my hands and knees if you wanna get off anon and DM or something I would love that you have made this past day so fucking worthwhile

[reidsmuse01]

"Coming Home To You" Part Two

Luca x Fem Reader

Summary: After a steamy reunion turns in a lazy day, you fall in love with Luca all over again.

Warnings: NSFW / 18+, mentions of sex, smut

Part one

You didn’t make it out of bed for another hour.

Every time you tried to move, Luca was there—kissing your shoulder, running his hands along your thighs, whispering something cocky in your ear about how good you felt last night and how you looked even better this morning with his marks on your skin.

Eventually, though, the promise of coffee and the undeniable need to clean up pulled you both out from under the sheets. You shuffled to the bathroom, still sore, still smiling, and leaned over the sink in one of his old t-shirts while brushing your teeth.

You didn’t notice Luca behind you at first. Not until his hands slid up your bare thighs beneath the hem of the shirt.

“You think you’re sneaky,” you muttered through toothpaste.

“I’m not sneaky,” he replied, kissing the back of your neck. “I’m starved. I went months without this. You really think one night’s enough?”

You shivered as his hands found your hips, pulling you back against him. Even through his boxers, you could feel how ready he already was again.

“You’re unbelievable,” you mumbled.

“I am,” he agreed shamelessly, taking the toothbrush from your hand and setting it aside. “And you’re irresistible.”

He turned you toward him, lips claiming yours in a kiss that tasted like mint and coffee and home. Before you knew it, he was tugging you into the shower, the spray warming your skin as he pressed you against the glass wall.

Water streamed over both of you, but neither of you cared. Luca kissed down your neck, his big hands gliding across your wet skin with reverence, like he was memorizing you all over again.

“Turn around,” he rasped. “Hands on the wall.”

Your heart pounded as you obeyed, bracing yourself against the tile. He slid into you slowly, the water adding an extra layer of sensation as your body welcomed him again.

This time was different—needier, somehow. Not as rough. Not rushed.

Luca moved in long, deep strokes, his chest pressed to your back, lips at your ear. “I missed this. Missed you.”

You moaned softly, eyes fluttering shut, letting yourself feel everything—his hands gripping your hips, the slick press of his body against yours, the low growls of pleasure he let out every time you gasped his name.

When you came, it was quiet, intense, like a wave crashing over you in slow motion. He followed with a grunt and a shudder, arms wrapping around your middle as he rested his forehead on your shoulder.

Neither of you said anything for a long moment.

Eventually, he kissed the back of your neck and whispered, “Still jelly-legged?”

“Worse,” you groaned.

He chuckled, wrapping a towel around you both before lifting you into his arms. “Guess we’re doing a lazy day.”

The rest of the day passed in a haze of warmth, skin, and tangled limbs. The two of you stayed in bed, ordering takeout you barely touched, wrapped in the comfort of being together again.

Luca never stopped touching you—fingers tracing shapes on your stomach, lips brushing over your collarbone, hand cradling your jaw every time he kissed you slow and deep.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he murmured, eyes drinking you in like he still couldn’t believe you were real.

You straddled his hips, your body sinking onto his with a soft gasp, and his hands found your waist instantly. This time was slower. More intimate. He watched every movement, like he didn’t want to miss a second.

“You feel so good,” you whispered, nails dragging lightly down his chest.

“So do you,” he groaned, one hand sliding up to cup your breast, thumb teasing your nipple. “You always do.”

The rhythm between you was lazy, sweet, almost hypnotic—skin on skin, breath against breath, the quiet creak of the bed the only sound between kisses.

When you came this time, it was with your forehead pressed to his, your name on his lips like a prayer.

Afterward, you laid on his chest, fingers tracing the scars on his arms, your bodies still tangled beneath the covers.

He stroked your hair and whispered, “Feels like we just fell in love all over again.”

You smiled, eyes fluttering closed.

“Maybe we did.”

[empty-dusk]

Because I am back on my bullshit, I just wanna make a post about two of my fave plant based losers.

Arbutus from Aladdin the animated series and Molecule man from Moon girl and devil dinosaur.

These two dweeps parallel each other in surprising ways, which is kind of interesting. I don't know if Arbutus played into this portrayal of Molecule man, but taking that both come from disney animated canon, it isn't beyond the scope of things.

TL;DR: Two random cartoon characters are surprisingly similar and their stories parallel in fun ways. I wrote a novel about it.

Their story arcs follow a similar pattern. Both begin as seemingly more open people, with Arbutus allowing the Sultan to enter his garden oasis to take refuge from the cold desert night and with Molecule literally allowing people to come to his home to enjoy what he'd created. Notably, both deal with gardens and plants. Arbutus, being seemingly a nature elemental creates art through nature and Molecule made an entire planet into a natural wonder through molecular manipulation. By technicality, you could say they both had a garden they saw as a haven.

While Arbutus seems a bit more hesitant to approach, he still follows the Sultan to see what he does and probably to see how he reacts to the art he had created. It ought to be pointed out that the Sultan interacts quite respectfully with his garden to a certain point, enjoying it's wonders. We don't see much on how Molecule behaves with his guests, but the small looks we get into how his planet used to be, he seemed to be much the same, if just more involved. The Beyonder talks about crystal bloom beds, anti-gravity waterfalls and most notably a black hole coaster, which speak volumes of how nice the place must have been if it made a good impression on the Beyonder, who at best of times seems to regard humans as lesser beings and has notably caused a lot of harm to different planets out of strange kind of childish curiosity or vindictiveness. Molecule seems to have enjoyed spending time with at least some of his guests, seemingly children, based on his small recollections.

Despite the initial good will though, both end up in the same place.

In Arbutus's case, the slight seems minor. A single picked flower from his garden. But a garden to a nature elemental is a bit different of a thing than to a human. To him, his art and his plants are akin to family and they scream when harm befalls them. It's implied that he feels about flowers in a vase the same way most of us would feel about inhumane cruelty befalling our fellow humans or animals.

Meanwhile, Molecule has his haven, his home, destroyed due to what could be seen as a natural disaster. A natural disaster that came down to not being so natural, as it turns out it was merely a game played by a trickster entity he'd even hosted on his planet. The Beyonder. The Beyonder, when confronted, does not truly recall causing this, despite admitting to the game of galactic golf that set the meteors into motion. A being who is supposedly omniscient was too distracted from the destruction he'd caused.

Both parties have their homes violated in someway and vow revenge on the perpetrator.

Arbutus has the opportunity to act on his wish for it instantly, coming down like an angry god upon the hapless man in his garden. He was very much willing to kill the person destroying his masterpiece, but is actually talked down by the prospect that he might get the Sultan's most 'precious treasure' into his garden. So, he allows the Sultan to leave, but leaves the man with a promise. In 20 summers, he would come to claim this most precious treasure.

Molecule man has a less straight forward path to his revenge. Beyonder is a being who could be anywhere, at anytime. Tracking him down is nearly impossible. So, he sets a trap. If the trickster would ever dare set foot on his planet ever again, he'd be stripped of his power and fully at his mercy. It's impossible to say how long he waited, but his home is abandoned and left to ruin, wilderness claiming buildings and structures deteriorating. But in the end, his plan works. Beyonder DOES come back. No truce or revenge is achieved however, as Beyonder ends up beating Molecule man with his own power, just to save the girl he'd come to his home with. The girl he seems to care so much about. Molecule man is left to his own rage and impotence, power stripped from him instead by the destruction of his wand.

Regardless, both of them return to the lives of those they perceived had wronged them, but the stories end in very different ways.

At this point, it's important to note on the protagonists they are up against. Aladdin and Lunella.

Both at first underestimate their foe. Lunella has just beaten the biggest bad thing ever back on Earth and has protected Beyonder and his sorry behind for a few days on an alien planet. She got this, she can do this! Except... not this time.

(No I will never stop using these gifs. I made them, I get to abuse the privilege.)

Similarly, Aladdin projects confidence, telling the Sultan that he will protect his treasury from any intrusion. He has beaten plenty worse things before! Unfortunate for him, he didn't quite understand that to a nature elemental, what is more precious than living beauty? And there happens to be a flower right under his nose he hadn't considered: Jasmine.

Both protagonists lose their first round against a seemingly overwhelming foe, but while Lunella spends rest of the season dealing with these ramifications, Aladdin bounces back near instantly. After all, to him this is a single episode and to Lunella, this is a several episode long arc. (And there's like. 20 years between the two series.)

The greatest differences appear in the latter halves of Arbutus and Molecule's stories, however.

Arbutus takes Jasmine and very much seems content that he now has someone to talk to, someone to witness his art, despite showing clear disdain towards Jasmine's unwillingness to be part of his garden. The things grow heated however when she accuses him of seeing her as a thing. Something to be owned, which is a concept she'd held contempt from being nearly forcefully married off to a suitor she didn't care for. But Arbutus fires back that humans treat nature and his creations as things as well. There seems to be bitterness to him, as he talks about humans burning wood and plotting out the sun with the smoke, leaving his precious flowers to slowly die and suffer die in a vase. He seems to hold contempt towards humans, most likely due to being a being of pure nature, seeing them abuse living things that can't tell them to stop. But at the same time... he seems to wish for understanding. After all, he isn't necessarily hostile to Jasmine. He merely bars her exit, as she was promised to him, ever so indirectly.

So, Jasmine saying that she understands how he feels seems to make him do a double take.

But in the end... he wants to believe in Jasmine. That humans do appreciate his creations, all the creations of nature. He's skeptical, but wants to believe in the end. At least until Aladdin shows up, prompting him to fall back into his skepticism. It was clearly just another human ploy, after all. Something he's clearly experienced before.

Meanwhile, Molecule man invades Lunella's home. Her safety, her haven, all for getting revenge by proxy. Beyonder can be wherever and anywhere, after all. His rage, as terrible and burning as it had been before, had merely amplified during the time he'd spent off screen. It broke him, quite literally. His body is now able to shape itself in whatever way he pleases, but he is very unstable. While the rage seems to have empowered him to be more at first, it's also tearing him down. His contortions seem painful, but he seems to be dulling it all with the rage that is uncoupling his own molecules to begin with. In contrast to Arbutus, he takes pleasure in toying with Lunella's family as well, wishing to make her feel the pain he feels. He lacks a mirror, someone to understand him like Arbutus. No one clearly had come to bring aid or was concerned for him and his home. And now, if nothing else, he can pass his pain unto Lunella. Give her exactly what he got: despair, loss, grief and most of all a person to blame it all upon.

Both are in the end acting on old pains.

Arbutus lashing out due to seeing humans as cruel things that trick and abuse his creations and Molecule due to loss of acceptance and people who would care for him equally. Both have withdrawn from contact due to being hurt by outside forces and in the end, become a monster in the eye of others. Aladdin calls Arbutus a monster and treats him as one. Lunella forgoes saying it, but she holds righteous anger towards the alien who invaded her home and threatened to kill her whole family.

Their stories end in shockingly different ways.

Arbutus is slain, despite Jasmine's protest. He and Aladdin fought, fully thinking the other was in the wrong and not attempting to bridge the gap between them. His death is an accidental victory, but Aladdin no matter celebrates, thinking he'd beaten the evil that had taken his love prisoner. Arbutus and his home wither around them, unable to exist without the person who kept it alive. The episode ends with a hopeful but somber note, as Jasmine explains that Arbutus wasn't evil, merely different. They plant the rose that had been his heart and source of his power onto a hill. It perks up after being watered, giving hope that he may someday grow back.

Molecule man, despite his demonstrably worse actions, gets the happier ending. Lunella, after having been on the run for the most of the episode turns the tides and returns the favor of their first encounter, beating and breaking him onto the floor. She stops, just like he had (even if not by choice) just an inch from his face, letting him feel the terror he'd caused in her. The fear of death and pain. But instead... he reacts much differently. After a moment of fear and panicked breathing, he repeats a line he'd told her before. He has nothing left to lose. With somber acceptance, he lays down, knowing that he is defeated and perhaps even welcoming the oblivion of death. This leads to Lunella understanding just how much pain he had to be in. As much as he'd hurt her, he'd lacked the support network she had. He had no one to tell him what Mimi or Casey would tell her, about confidence and finding help when you needed it.

He literally was alone. In the end, he finds compassion from Lunella, who literally helps him back to his feet, so he can see the destruction he'd caused. It's not perfect and won't take the trauma away, but he does what he can to undo the destruction. He heals and fixes, leaving the apartment as it had been and no less. He and Lunella depart on good enough terms and her fear of him seems to have disappeared.

Despite the different ending point of their stories, in the end, both of them are very misunderstood beings. While Arbutus reflects a more skeptical side and inability to trust, Molecule man turns that around and finds trust and healing in the end. They are both also heavily tied to flowers.

The flower the sultan picks from Arbutus' garden seems to be a kind of lily. Later on, he sprouts a similar yet differently colored lily from his palm, offering it Jasmine momentarily, but never giving it to her. Meanwhile, Molecule man is seen to be fond of a type of cactus flower (it's an alien plant, I am doing my best here), which a child passes onto him in a flashback and in the end, he passes to Lunella.

Perhaps the flower could be seen as a willingness to change and trust, despite it all. To pass it on is to be vulnerable, but you can also find people who care for you. Not passing it on protects you, but... leaves you alone and misunderstood in the end. Thanks for reading this ramble of a post, you're trooper if you did.

[vodika-vibes]

2x1 anon. YAAAAAASSS. I hope I inspire people to ask you these 🤤 I have so many ideas, so many couples, where/with whom I do begin...

Yeah, please and thank you so much!

May I ask, pearl love with Tech and Crosshair in winter at night please. With an introverted reader maybe?

Better Together

Summary: It's been a week since Life Day, and you're struggling with being overwhelmed with everything you've had to do in the last two weeks. Luckily, you don't have to manage alone.

Pairing: TBB Crosshair x F!Reader x TBB Tech

Word Count: 854

Prompt: Pearl - Honest Love

Warnings: None

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: Alright, I came really close to going over my word limit with this one, but, thankfully I was able to make it happen without going over the word limit. I hope you like it! Also, introversion kind of went hand in hand with anxiety in this one, I think. Whoops.

You love Crosshair and Tech. You do. They’re wonderful, even when Crosshair is at his grumpiest. Even when Tech is intentionally trying to irritate his brother.

You’ve never been happier.

But sometimes you need some space from them. It’s not because you don’t want them around, but because sometimes you just can’t handle people anymore. Even people that you love.

Maybe even especially people that you love.

Normally this happens after you’ve been forced to interact with a lot of people over a short period of time. Holidays are the worst for this, honestly. And though both Crosshair and Tech said that you didn’t have to host their siblings for Life Day, that their brothers and sister would understand, you were determined to push through it.

For a week. A week of people in your space. Touching your things. Talking to you.

It would have been overwhelming even if you hadn’t spent the week before with your family.

Which leads you to now.

Awake even though both Crosshair and Tech are asleep. Neither of them are pressed against you, which is a good thing because it means that you’re able to slide out the end of the bed and retreat to the living room.

Hunter and the others left earlier that day, but the Life Day decorations are still hanging around your home, and you need to do something, anything, to make the bad feelings go away, so, in spite of the late hour, you start pulling decorations off the tree.

It’s peaceful. The movements of pulling ornaments down and wrapping them is the perfect kind of repetitive that it’s nearly meditative, and you’re able to half watch the snow fall from the sky.

Quiet. Peaceful.

Exactly what you need.

Still, you’re not surprised when the bedroom door slides open and a pair of warm bodies press against your sides, “Kitten,” Crosshair sounds doubly grumpy, and you feel bad for waking him up, “It’s 2 in the morning.” His arms sling low around your waist, and his fingers absently play with the hem of the shirt you’re wearing.

“There are more productive times to pull down the decorations.” Tech agrees as he rests his head on your shoulder. “Such as when the sun comes up.”

“I’m being productive now,” You point out.

Crosshair’s arms tighten around you, “You should be sleeping, not pulling down life day decorations, Kitten.”

“You should not be doing it alone at all.” Tech adds, “We all decorated, so we all pull the decorations down.”

“You were asleep.” You offer weakly.

The brothers share a look over your head, before Crosshair sighs and lightly pulls the decoration from your hand, carelessly tossing it into the box, and he pulls you onto his lap so you’re facing Tech.

He rests his forehead against the back of your head and his arms wrap tightly around you.

Tech, meanwhile, shifts closer so that he’s able to cup your face with gentle hands. “You are overwhelmed.” It’s not a question, but a statement of face, “You have been for days now. We,” He motions to himself and Crosshair, “did not say anything because everytime we tried you claimed that you were fine.”

“I am-”

“Don’t.” Crosshair warns, “Don’t lie. Not to us. You think we can’t tell how you are feeling, Kitten? After all this time?”

“The back to back Life Day Events were too much. Even we think that.” Tech adds, “Next year we will spread them out.”

“Next time you’re feeling overwhelmed, just be honest with us.” Crosshair says, “That’s the only way that this relationship is going to work. You agreed to that.”

“I know. I’m sorry.” You slump in Crosshair’s arms, “I just…you were both so happy to see your brothers and sister-”

“-and you felt that you could not talk to us.” Tech finishes, “That is on us, and we are sorry, cyare.”

“Clearly, we all need to do better.” Crosshair says, “We can start in the morning, when the sun comes up.” 

“I agree, we should return to bed.” Tech says, “Will you come with us?”

You glance at the decorations all around you, and Crosshair squeezes your hip tightly, “The mess will hold until the sun comes up.” He says in your ear, “Come back to bed, Kitten.”

You sigh and nod, “Alright.”

Tension seems to drain out of both men, and you wonder if they expected you to fight them on this.

And then you’re ushered back into bed, and bundled up with your favorite blanket. Crosshair tangles his legs with yours and pulls your face to his chest, while Tech buries his face in the back of your neck.

They both murmur affirmations of love against your skin, and you feel a surge of affection towards them both as you return their sentiments. 

And then a wave of exhaustion hits you, and you wonder if part of your problem is that neither Crosshair or Tech have been as physically affectionate with you in the past week. Something to consider in the morning, as you slowly drift off to sleep, safe and comfortable in their arms.

[dc418writes]

✨Pairing✨: softdark!assassin!Curtis Everettxblack!reader

Summary🪄: the mysterious man in the corner booth is gonna make you wish you stayed home

🚨: 18+ NO MINORS!!!, language, mentions of alcohol, mentions of adult happy fun times, allusion to reader being held against her will (so dubcon..?? Ish??? 🤷🏽‍♀️)

A/N🎤: hello☺️! This is my submission to the @secretswiftymarvelfan I Love You 3000 Writing Bonanza✨! Congrats again on 3000 followers👏🏾👏🏾!! I hope you - and everyone else who reads - like what I put together!

*DISCLAIMER!: although visual made by me via Canva, I DO NOT CLAIM OWNERSHIP of pictures used as they were all found via Pinterest*

AU: assassin, Trope: one night only, Dialogue: “I’ll do whatever it takes to get what I want”

Taking a deep breath, you stand smoothing your white tennis skirt down against your thighs before making your way to the ridiculously handsome man your friends pushed you into talking to.

“Girl take a chance for once!”

“I-I don’t want to bother him. Plus I’m sure he already has someone,” you replied nervously holding your hands in your lap. From your quick glances his way, he seemed unimpressed with everything - and potentially everyone - around. Content and enjoying his solace.

“Well you won’t know unless you ask,” your other friend countered in a sing-song manner fluttering her newest lash extensions.

Now here you were nearly to the corner booth in the dimmest part of the bar with your fruity cocktail in hand as your pink, strappy heels tapped against the floor. The stranger’s eyes locked with yours as he sips his own glass tumbler half filled with a brown liquid. How his tongue peeks out to collect the small droplets left, paired with the corner of his mouth tilting in the slightest smirk, leaves an involuntary flutter in your lower abdomen that carries down into your core.

Your cheeks - and overall body - warm as you finally reach your destination. “H-Hi.”

He gently bows his shaved head, “Hello.”

“Sorry to bother you. M-My friends and I made this pact to try new things this year and mine is to walk up to a guy I’m attracted to since I don’t really do that so here I am…”

“I’m not surprised.” You feel your mood fall at his words and embarrassment swell in your chest. How foolish of you to think you could do this? That you had an ounce of sex appeal or confidence like those other girls you saw easily able to grab any man they wanted. It’s exactly why you stayed to yourself. Your ultimate fear of rejection keeping you rooted in your seat or at home.

“O-Oh?,” is all you can muster feeling even more stupid that you didn’t even have a solid retort.

“As gorgeous as you are, I’m sure you always have men coming up to you. No need for you to do any work,” he explains making a shy smile spread along your glossy lips and relief soothe the uneasiness of your stomach. He extends his hand to the seat next to him motioning for you to join him, which you gladly take with a quiet “thank you.”

“Truthfully, it’s my friends that get all the attention. Guys usually just walk past me to get to them.”

“Nothing against your friends, but sounds like those boys were idiots,” he firmly states before taking a last pull of his drink to finish it. The tic in his jaw as if he’s bothered by those other men even though he doesn’t know them. As if he’s annoyed at just their mere mention. “Then again, should probably thank em for allowing us to meet huh?”

At that, you seem to lose your train of thought immediately letting your eyes fall to your lap again so giddy from his words. A brief silence falls over your table, but it’s not awkward or uncomfortable in the slightest. Finally peeking up again, his ocean eyes - and overall expression - turn a bit softer, which doesn’t help the butterflies erupting in what feels like your whole body.

“Shit, sweetheart you got me forgetting my manners. Curtis,” he introduces in a deep drawl that sends tingles up your spine. Holding his hand out, you notice intricate, black ink along the back of his hand and knuckles - in a design you can’t exactly make out - that looks to extend all the way up his arm covered by his black long sleeve shirt. You feel guilty for it, but you let your mind wander to how far it exactly goes. To his solid chest? His, probably, perfectly sculpted back maybe? Across his firm pecs and down to his abs you could visibly make out through his shirt?

The longer your mind imagined, the more that itch to find out grew stronger. And when you placed your hand in his - noting just how much larger it was than yours, not to mention stronger - you knew you were done for.

“Y/N.”

•

It’s pitch black when you finally awake to the quiet room. The side of your face pressed into the vanilla bourbon scented pillow below you - the same one Curtis had you drooling, moaning, and pleading in majority of the night.

The way he wrung your body exhausted pulling orgasms one after the other - you honestly couldn’t remember the exact number from your brain turning into mush after the second - you’d think he created you. Molded you with his own hands and knew just where he hid that special spot inside you. Then again, maybe it was just from you being..well..out of commission for some time.

Slightly lifting your head, you finally notice you’re lying by yourself in his king sized bed. The sheets pulled up to cover your back and keep you warm.

Additionally, just how quiet it is around you as if you’re the only one there period.

“C-Curtis?,” you hoarsely call out hoping he just journeyed to the kitchen or even another room for a call. Having a house so extravagant, clearly he had to do something highly important that took most of his time.

But you’re met with silence, causing the once tired smile along your lips to falter.

You thought he really liked you. That he would’ve wanted to see you again sometime and maybe grow into something more. “That’s why they call it one night stand,” you mumble to yourself feeling the crack in your heart spread bit by bit as you slide from under the warm covers to collect your things.

It seems like your stomach becomes queasy again with every piece of clothing you put on; making you study your earlier conversation trying to discover any missed signs or warnings. Of course you still didn’t see any, only making you feel foolish and ashamed all over again.

Heels clacking and echoing throughout the home, you’re too busy reserving an Uber on your phone to notice Curtis standing in front of the main door until you nearly run into him. A startled scream pushing from your lungs as one hand lands on your chest and the other drops your phone to the hardwood floor.

With his black top and black pants, he looked as if he’d been in combat having hand guns hanging from the harness strapped across his upper body. Black gloves covering his hands, and red dots splattered along his face match the dripping streaks on his top that are undoubtedly blood.

His expression, hard and stoic, causes an increase in your heart rate now nervous and confused as to what happened to his overall state let alone the change in his mood.

“What happened to you?,” you quietly ask.

“Nothing you need to worry about. And that’s also the first and last time you ask about my business, got it?” His harsher tone has you slightly flinching; taking a step back as you gently nod your head.

“I-I’m sorry..I didn’t mean-,”

“Pretty sure I left you asleep,” he retorts removing his gloves.

“I was looking for you a-and I saw you were gone,” you stammer wrapping your arms around yourself. “I thought-,”

“That this was over? Oh sweetheart you’re too cute.” His words should have you jumping for joy and excited, but his deep chuckle - more menacing than comforting - causes an unwelcome sinking in your gut.

One swift stride forward with his long legs, and Curtis catches your chin in his hand pressing his fingers into your cheeks hard enough to make your plump lips pout and a surprised whimper to leave your heaving chest. You had no choice but to face those blue eyes filled with something you couldn’t quite place; only worsening your nerves.

“I’ll let you know now I’m hard to get rid of,” he whispers ghosting his lips over yours. “I’ll do whatever it takes to get what I want. Who I want.”

You remain quiet - as if you could even try to fight - letting his grip loosen until his fingertips drag from the side of your neck to your collarbone making you shiver. Your body still somehow willing to give in to this man who surely was more dangerous than you could imagine.

“Now here’s what’s gonna happen. We’re gonna get out these clothes and you’re gonna help me clean up in the shower. I’ll put you back to sleep then order breakfast for us in the morning, where you’ll rightly apologize for trying to leave in whatever way I see fit until our food arrives. Understand button?”

You need to fight. Any logical person would scream and shout to the heavens punching and kicking past the point of exhaustion in this situation. Yet you were stuck. Partially from fear of not knowing what Curtis was truly capable of, and partially from your greedy core loving that idea. You could feel the light throb and arousal begin to leak from you making your thighs clinch.

Of course he notices too from the smug smirk on his lips. “Y-Yes,” you softly answer.

“Good girl.”

Who would’ve thought your first - well almost - one night stand would be your last?

[thesweetestsupervillains]

@risingshine "...thank you for the consideration?" was that something to say? she couldn't tell if it was for her benifit or not. "well my thought proccess was mainly that if I am going to change my..what did you call it? 'paradigm'? That i could possibly get a head-start on a function that works." She is very much expecting for gina to go on some ramble about how she's being closed minded for looking for a pre-existing solution instead of making one herself, or something to that nature. "Because so far it seems like at least 3, if not more, places that use magic all conjoin on the use of some form of energy in order to perform their works, and all seem to behave in similar ways. And so my brain started turning about whether or not it could be of similr concept to the idea of ether - or maybe 'prime', I belive you called it." "..Please do keep in mind that Noelle is not under the pretense that she can 'change' how the world works. It is like arguing that sunlight should be green. Even if you are correct, arguing on it would feel rather redundant, given that is just how the world goes, in a sense."

"The core problem, at present, is her inability to explain that actual properties of mana. She can describe how she does what she does fine, but that's little more than saying that you turn a light switch to make the lights come on. She seems to be without any knowledge of how mana actually works."

"For example, she implied that the laws of thermodynamics do not apply in her home realm. But that raises questions, like whether perpetual motion is possible. If mana exists all around us, then how does it deal with things like thermodynamics? Is it an element? Does it have atomic weight? What is the energy conversion rate between mana and other forms of energy, and how much entropy is created by this?"

"True Ether, as we define it, is the true state of reality. Everything that is not currently in existence still has to exist in some form, the way kinetic energy exists as potential energy. Since we know that nothing can be created or destroyed, it must already exist."

"Now, Metaphysical Ether, what mages call Prime, is something that everyone in our tradition debate intensely. It's perhaps the only place where NeoPlatoists are still in existence and not laughed out of the room. The question becomes whether or not Ether, as a concept, is matter or energy. Beyond that, some believe that Metaphysical Ether contains all the forms of all things; others claim that it's the final state of pure, undiluted reality itself, by distilling and separating it down until it can't be separated any more."

"The problem with this is that so many of these end up sounding a lot like quinta essentia; the idea that there's some spiritual force that underpins everything. And that starts to become the concept of spiritus mundi, where everything is just mediation between god and man, and at this point you might as well just say you believe in fucking magic."

"I hold that studying Metaphysical Ether is pointless at best, dangerous at worst. Not because there's nothing to learn, but because it ends up leading you back to the ideas of idiots. True Ether, the idea that everything is, is not Metaphysical Ether, the idea that actually there's just stuff that does stuff because reasons. You're not wrong that it resembles mana, but ultimately, it's inferior to using other methods and processes. That's why most in our tradition spend so little time with it. We're not looking for god in the machine, we're not seeking some kind of divine spark. We're not out here trying to make a philosopher's stone."

[mulders-too-large-shirt]

s2 episode 10 "red museum" thoughts

woohoo! this episode has "museum" in the title and i love museums! but it also talks about cults in the description and i'm less keen on those

update: there were no real museums :( i feel lied to and cheated

we open on some cows. i was admiring their cuteness and their wonderful sounds by writing "moo" in my notes before we get a JUMPSCARE to a beef processing plant which. augh. unpleasant. i do not care for meat related story lines.

we see this woman working at the processing facility and she comes home to her kids and no husband in sight (a single mom who works two jobs, who loves her kids and never stops, iktr)

and she's getting in the shower but we see some fellow with glasses is WATCHING her. the question is from where and how?!? oh very creepy!!!

then the older brother leaves and we find him in the morning stripped to his underwear in the woods and whimpering. and his back is covered in writing.

so naturally my first thought was "what does this have to do with the meat? or did they just jumpscare me with unrelated meat imagery?"

(we later learn that it is, in fact, related. but this all happened before the title sequence even aired, so i was a little suspicious!)

cut to our beloved duo. mulder says this waking up in the woods with writing on the back and no memory thing has happened to a bunch of other kids. and scully's like "but why does this interest you?" and he says the sheriff claims they're being possessed which does seem up his alley

they're in the car with the sheriff and mulder was a gentleman and let scully sit in the front <3 he said my queen, you have endured so much, and motion sickness shall not be one of your troubles

at this point i realized the earlier meat scenes WERE related because the sheriff is introducing this new religious cult, who are vegetarians and bought a ton of cows to keep as pets. cows are cute but a bit large for pets in my opinion.

next they SHARE AN UMBRELLA on the way to the church's sermon thingy

okay so the leader is typing while someone reads his words which is certainly a presentation style. they all wear red turbans. and scully says she doesn't think they seem like the type to get involved in all this. she wanted them to be innocent so she could pet their cows. i'm onto you.

mulder hears a few lines of their chanting and says that these are "walk-ins'', which means the people think enlightened beings are controlling their bodies. okay theological king!

they go to talk to the boy who was in the woods in his underwear and man. we get this shot of mulder in the back. and his coat. is so comically large. i had to pause. take a deep breath. and remember the origins of my url.

the teenager says he thinks he was maybe possessed by an animal spirit or something, he doesn't know, and scully's sleuthing around the house when she discovers a child (the teenager's brother) and they are having a chat (again how much of this work involves talking to children) but SOMEONE is WATCHING THEM and it is CREEPY!!

cutscene to the pair eating ribs together and scully has sauce on her face and mulder wipes it off for her. and i squeaked. a squeak emerged from my body. look what they've driven me to. i am a woman with dignity squeaking over a rib date.

and why did they both look so good? but i was especially admiring mulder, in his silly little rib eating fit, explain the cult's reasoning behind a new spirit taking over the bodies of those who lost hope. i was embarrassed at myself for how attractive i found him. but then i remembered there are a lot of people who have probably been in a similar situation. so thank u for following this blog so i feel less alone in that manner.

oh nooo a bunch of kids are being mean to one of the church members on the side of the road... mulder gets up to intervene and tells them to gtfo (we love a man that stands for morals and justice)

the lead bully is ANGRY and sees scully come out and says "why don't you run along with the little wife" in her direction which is exactly what i have been saying but no one listens to me.

(neither of them seem to care that this happened which makes me think it's not the first time such words have been tossed in their direction)

and he's all "my father will hear about this" because the girl notices scully has a gun and gasp. he's the sheriff's son! so mulder's like "yeah i think he WOULD like to know about this" and they beat it

there's a moment where scully says it's hard to know who is in the wrong without having a scorecard, implying that keeping up with small town drama is impossible, and mulder is gazing at her. like GAZING at her. i think he heard the wife suggestion and was seriously mulling it over.

then the sheriff's son is making out with this girl for a time i considered far too long. but she goes back to where she lives and she sees a dog! a very cute dog! she appears to know this dog and goes to visit when BAM! dog-related kidnapping occurs :(

she ends up down to her underwear in the woods and she's hallucinating a giant crow eating her and also being swarmed with bugs which seems deeply unpleasant

scully does a check up on her because she is a DOCTOR and you had best not forget it! she seems fine... except... weird chemical in blood... a chemical you'd need to be some sort of doctor to know about... and we see the cult leader used to be a doctor before getting kicked out of the doctor world... it's not looking great for him

they pay him a visit but he won't let them enter his place because they will defile the sacredness of the space with their meat-eating aura. and then all of the members of the church swarm our duo's car and OHH it was creepy. but they manage to bring him into the station for questioning.

they're trying to ask him about the weird chemicals and he's going on about the injustice of eating cows and at this point the sheriff starts screaming at the guy. and mulder has to escort the sheriff out and tell him to be normal.

he says something about the guy starting a lot of trouble for being a holy man and i was thinking to myself. famously holy men DO cause a lot of trouble. this is perfectly on brand.

so then the rest of the church members were protesting outside of the bbq restaurant where our besties recently ate. and the sheriff's son comes out and throws COW BLOOD on them. he took his notes from carrie i see. the sheriff is PISSED and wrangles him up.

while all of this is going down, a strange man is beckoning to scully. and i am of the opinion that strange men beckoning to women should be avoided, but this is what separates me from the fbi agents of the world, because she goes over and he says he wants to show them something

at this point, the score to the show was going hard. i was jamming out. it was really getting dramatic as they rode over to some place and then got out of the car.

this strange man is talking about how he used to own this land, but he sold it and got rich, and he's saying that the new people inject the cows with stuff. i felt as if this episode was trying to make me a lil vegan.

scully's talking about how growth hormone is safe but the guy is not buying whatever the government has to say on the subject. and yeah like scully the government did just take you for a while so maybe they're actually lying? who knows. she went to med school and i didn't. frankly i don't want anything extra in my cow

we see the glasses of the man who was watching them earlier doing some cow injections! the amount of red flags here is staggering...

at this point, our regularly scheduled plot is interrupted by an excellent (and by that, of course, i mean entirely unrealistic) CGI helicopter crash that had be yelling at the screen. i LOVE 90's CGI it always fills me with whimsy. like sorry i know this was a serious scene but it looked funny and i laughed!!!

the two people on the helicopter are dead, and one of them was a doctor, who was found with a briefcase full of cash and a mysterious liquid... hmm..

mulder enters the room. "scully? you're not gonna believe this"

YESSSS! he said the LINE! i had seen it meme'd into my vocabulary far before i had ever decided to watch this show, or even had any idea what it was referring to. i would just mumble "scully, you're never gonna believe this" to myself whenever i learned any surprising information. for at least the last 5 years or so. so this felt very full circle to me. he did it.

he also proceeds to say something that scully can, in fact believe, because she already figured it out herself

so here's the situation: the doctor was treating a bunch of kids, including all of those who had gone into a frenzy in the woods. but what is the through-line here...?

we see glasses man again and then a RANDOM FARMER IS SHOT DEAD!

they go back to the house of the mom and the kids, and she's like yeah my son was getting vitamin shots from that guy. man i hate to tell you but i think there was more than vitamins in those shots. but mulder is... distracted by something.

there's a light coming from the bathroom mirror and he realizes there's something behind it. so he wraps his hand up and PUNCHES IT (bad luck be upon him for 7 years)

he finds what he refers to as a "private little movie studio" with a running camera and a TON of vhs tapes... nasty!!! not good!!!

cutscene to the sheriff's son, who has undergone a kidnapping and has not woken up! sheriff is naturally in deep distress. it turns out that he was actually murdered.

the car of our duo passes that of the gunman who shot that random farmer and scully realizes she knows that face... and i'm thinking that it did not look familiar at all. maybe it's someone she went to school with?

mulder is interrogating the video man, and he's getting real rough with him. he smacks him on the head, which is justified considering he was filming people in their home, but i do worry that mulder's interrogation violence will someday get him fired. the dude swears up and down that he did NOT kill them, but he did do the kidnapping and writing, because the doctor was experimenting on those kids and turning them into "monsters"

scully makes a connection... the gunman she saw before... was the FELLOW THAT KILLED DEEP THROAT???!!!! she has to excuse herself from the room at this revelation

mulder is deep in interrogation mode and the glasses slash video guy is saying that the doctor paid people- himself included- to inject the cows with a mystery substance, and that he must have been doing it to the kids he was treating as well

scully's back in the room and her and mulder are so close. so close. there is no reason for them to be that close. but here they are.

she says the stuff in the bottle was unidentifiable. that's actually not what she says, she said something about the number of proteins it had, and that means nothing to me but mulder goes OFF. he takes her outside the room and starts yelling at her about this meaning something.

here, at this moment, is where i realize what was happening: deep throat had mentioned to scully how they were dealing with people so cruel that they injected alien dna into kids. and i was putting 2 and 2 together JUST AS our main characters were. which honestly i feel like i should have picked up on that earlier but i hone in on character details and not alien details so sue me.

anyway mulder is absolutely gagged. he's yelling about "deep throat dying for this", and scully looks super super scared. he tells her to head out and that he wants this gunman taken alive

next we see him knock on the door of the... cult leader?!?! yes, you heard me right! mulder explains that he KNOWS it might offend this dude's religion, but he needs help. and so all of the kids and the families involved with the secret alien injection are taken to the barn where these people worship. tensions are boiling.

scully asks the sheriff where mulder is and he says that he left because he thought he knew where the gunman was. and this was not part of the plan, the splitting up and going to an undisclosed location! but i can imagine that this was deeply personal for him on the levels of 1. having lost deep thoat 2. having lost his sister and requesting any information pertaining to aliens and 3. these were the folks that kidnapped him at the end of s1 so. he had some scores to settle.

he goes to the beef processing plant, where he finds a TON of gasoline poured all over the floor. now, if i were mulder, being both deathly afraid of fire and also generally concerned with my life, i would have gotten tf out of there. but i am not mulder, and he keeps going on his quest to find this man.

gunman launches a sneak attack from behind a cow. which is not a bad place for a dramatic stakeout/fight scene but boy i'd hate to be there irl. and things are looking tough for mulder, who gets off his feet, only to be locked inside the building while this dude gets his lighter. he's about to drop it when...

scully walks in! with backup! she's got her gun pointed at him and he's wavering but the sheriff shoots him like 800 times. because he was the one that must have killed his son, so it was deeply personal. he's crying while doing this.

mulder stands over his body so sadly, knowing that he will never get the information he wants

scully concludes the episode by writing her case report, talking about how the kids who were infected have started getting sick. none of the kids from the church were infected, so it seems they were a control group. so in that case, the cult leader would have to have been in on this whole thing! oh, it's dramatic

but wait! if our duo had so recently eaten the infected meat, does that mean they are susceptible to aliens in their blood? and who knows who else ate the meat that was shipped out all around the country! aliens could be running rampant!

(i don't think that is actually the case- i'd have to imagine eating alien protein once is a lot different than getting it injected in you regularly for your whole life. but still. could complicate an already complicated situation. i mean, they've already endured evil cocoon bugs, exposure to that fungal virus, scully's coma... their doctors must be baffled at their medical history)

anyway, pretty good episode! i wish i could explain the joy that crossed my face when he said the line. and when they had a little rib date. oh man i needed that. that was good for me. i'll pass on meat imagery, like always, but it was interesting how they built this episode out of that one line in the s1 finale- or that they had planned it that way from the start. i didn't think we'd ever see what that whole process looked like! and it's good to get more info on our late friend deep throat. i still don't fully believe he's dead. you have to keep some suspicions on these things in sci fi.

[the-lewd-bot]

{a certain someone said i should send a horny ask to a mutual so here i am <3}

my manufacturer had an interesting concept for some kind of anti-tampering system that leaves a little process running in the background when i'm shut down that records sensory data that's received during that time. their most popular chassis is used for security applications quite often, and apparently they had an issue with trackers being implanted during regular maintenance. with the new version, it's nearly impossible to do something like that without the unit noticing. i'm built from the same model, but rarely get recognized as such.

all that data gets stored away for a while, and when necessary, units can comb back through it and look for anything odd, but there's one catch. there's an initial, highly accelerated, playback of the data when a unit gets powered back on again. supposedly it gives us a chance to skim the data without wasting much time doing so, but more often than not, it ends up being extremely overwhelming and many units dread or avoid maintenance entirely because of it.

i'm not one of those units, though. when i go into my local mechanic, they have me shunt into a standard chassis they keep in house so they don't have to worry about their subjects moving while they work - or at least, that's what they claim. what they don't know is that i leave that little process running when i come in. the work i ask for gets done just fine - and in record time, actually - but it's never the only thing they do.

i found a way to circumvent the automatic playback and save the data indefinitely. when they come to move me back to my chassis, i put on a nice face and go through the motions of a friendly goodbye, anxious to go home and work my way through the data.

laying myself down on my couch, i feel their touch all over, the way their rough, calloused hands contrast with the smooth silicone of my skin. the way they run those hands over every inch of it, even going so far as to prop my mouth open and inspect my tongue. i feel soft puffs of air against my face. it's surprised me every time; each time i go in they get more and more bold, cross more lines i didn't think they would.

although, there's some part of me that feels that they never go quite far enough. they're scared. maybe they've heard the rumors of that black box inside units like me. i want someone to take control and use my chassis fearlessly. i want to be scratched and dented and i want to replay the moments i got those marks over and over and over again...

you'd probably enjoy doing something like that, right? we could even trade... i promise i'd treat yours just as well as you treat mine~ <3

I think if you left your body with my like that, with your soft silicone and adorable mouth, the memories you get back would be rather more than a few scratches and dings, if you understand my meaning.

And if you do, then I would love to swap such experiences with you. It would be exquisite to wake from maintenance already wet and dripping, rushing back home so that I could play with myself to the playback. I cannot wait to see how you touch my body when it is a free vessel to bend to your will as you see fit.