#the end needs tweaks but uh. yeah.

[skyward-floored]

I wrote another little scene with IAU Twi and the glasses, I need to be stopped

[tarisilmarwen]

Palpatine be like "Thrawn my homeboy I know I said that you'd get funding for your fighters. But I need to shift funds into the Death Star to get it finished up before that dumbass Krennic decides it needs a chocolate refinery or some other bs. Don't worry you'll get the funds next quarter, it's not like the Rebels can actually do anything to the factories now."

There was so much comedic potential that Treason skipped out on.

So much.

[disgustingtwitches]

MDNI

Working at a restaurant with 141! (Part 1)

Let's get this out of the way, the restaurant fucking sucks. Don't even know how it's still open. The food is terrible. The owner is an incompetent drunk who's never there. You got referred to the job from a friend of a friend. You did an interview with the head chef/manager, John. He hired you because you were hot.

"The fuckin ass on that one, huh?"

Just like any man that works in a restaurant, they're all horny fucks who love to tease you. You'd run back to the kitchen and ask to tweak an order. Price would wink and say:

"Next time it's gonna cost ya."

When it gets slow (which was all the time), you'd sit in the back and chat about how they met and what they did with their lives. They all get paid under the table for various reasons. Johnny takes smoke breaks with you, sometimes Price joins. Gaz pours shots for everyone after "busy" nights (busy meaning there was an hour where there were two tables to serve instead of one). Ghost... well he's strictly work. Sometimes he engages in banter with the guys, but he only acknowledges you when needed.

Your first month flies by, you basically get paid to sit around and talk with the most charming men on the planet, and Simon.

"He'll warm up eventually. Just gotta loosen 'em up, just like any tight ass."

Soap smirked as he leaned against a counter while everyone was wrapping up for the night.

"Don't you have dishes to put away?"

Ghost snapped while wiping down his station. At least he was nice to look at.

You and Gaz would roll up the forks and knives talking about bullshit, knees touching. Soap and you would light each others smokes by touching one lit end to the unlit one, all while still holding the cigarettes in your mouths (he called it a cigarette kiss). Price would constantly make food for you:

"Gotta plump you up 'fore it starts getting cold, yeah?"

He'd look you up and down while sliding you a basket of fries. And Simon? Cold as ever. Even when he started driving you to and from work because your car broke down. He drove like a madman, but it was totally silent. You made the mistake of reaching for the radio once, he gave a admonitory grunt and you snatched your hand away.

As time went on, you got comfortable with everyone and they got comfortable with you. It started with suggestive jokes.

"Simon's just straightforward, doesn't beat around the bush."

Price said one day while prepping vegetables with Ghost.

"What are you talking about? He beats around the bush all the time Price, you know that."

Soap walked by with a shit eating grin while he was carrying a bucket of dishes to the back. Uproar from the guys. Ghost storms off following Johnny, knife in hand. You want to stop him, but Gaz places a hand on your shoulder.

"Best not to do that, just let 'em settle that amongst themselves."

Johnny comes back disheveled, wearing a different shirt. Simon is stone faced as usual as he goes back to prep. It only got worse after that.

You'd watch as the boys messed with each other more; pats on the back, that turns to squeezes on the shoulders, that turned to slaps on the ass.

"They're just handsy," you think to yourself.

Eye contact that lingers for a second too long.

"They're just close friends," you think to yourself.

Compliments that boarder on harassment.

"They're just joking around," you think to yourself.

Then you entered the walk-in freezer, only to make direct eye contact with Johnny as he has Kyle's dick down his throat.

"Oh, uh-huh..." you think to yourself.

You didn't look at their faces for a week, they acted as if nothing happened. Then, the flirting only got worse.

"Behind!"

Price would yell while grinding up against Simon's ass when passing behind him.

"Yes, Chef."

He'd respond while he continued cooking, unfazed. They seemingly shared clothes: the younger guys preferred to don John and Simon's apparel all the time. You stopped going into the walk-in for a while, you figured you'd give Gaz and Soap some privacy (although they didn't seem to mind an audience). Christ, was everyone fucking everyone here?

You were taking a smoke break with Price when he leaned back on the railing and adjusted himself, it wasn't really adjusting himself as it was more him gripping his thick dick and looking directly into your eyes. You nearly choked as he smiled.

Ghost threw you a hoodie when he dropped you off one night. It started raining before you got home and you were complaining about just getting your hair done. You tried to give it back but he refused to take it.

"Keep it. I don't care about that one anyways."

He shrugged. You'd wear the oversized hoodie to bed, the smell was comforting. Smoky, dusty, boozy, like Javanese vetiver. It smelled like a grown man. Delicious. Accidentally wore it to work one day when you were in a rush getting ready. That started a trend for the rest of them to get you to wear their clothes. It less of a trend and more of a competition honestly. They'd "accidentally" spill drinks or food on you.

"No worries, I've got an extra shirt in my car!"

They'd have a wide, cheeky smile plastered on their faces while giving you their shirt. Of course, they wouldn't take them back either; so you had a growing collection of huge shirts that you'd wear around your apartment. Eventually, you had to go back to the walk-in. Thankfully, there were no exhibitionists present. You were reaching to grab some ketchup when the door opened. You and Johnny stared at each other for a long moment.

"Need help getting that, bonnie?"

Before you could respond he was reaching over you, pressing his chest on your back. He handed you the bottle while his dick grew hard on your ass. He was breathing hard in your ear, waiting for your reaction. You pushed back on him and that's all he needed, he gripped your hips and grinded into you. Even through your jeans you could feel his dick twitch when you moaned. It was a hot minute of panting while he pulled you back onto him desperately, like he was trying to fuck you right through the denim. The door handle clicked. You both froze, staring at the entryway.

"Johnny?"

Gaz's head popped in. Your face got hot while he stared back and forth at the two of you. One thing led to another, and your pants are around your ankles while Johnny is face first in your wet folds. Kyle is standing behind you, fucking your thighs and leaving sloppy kisses on your neck.

"Pretty doll, how long have ye bin waiting fur this, huh?"

Soap looked up at you with so much adoration, like he was servicing a goddess.

"Gonna cum Johnn-"

Gaz whimpered and bit your shoulder to muffle his groans as he came right between your thighs and cunt. Soap cleaned up the mess greedily, savouring the taste of both your juices. He didn't stop eating you out until you finished. Gaz held you up while your knees buckled when you came undone. Gentlemen they are, pulled up your pants for you and wiped the smeared lipgloss from your face. You stumbled out of the freezer, walking past the kitchen. Price's eyes crinkled as he saw you head out onto the floor.

~

"You shouldn't do that in there. It's unsanitary. And a health code violation."

Simon looked straight ahead as he weaved between cars. You opened your mouth, but no words came to mind, so you just nodded. Your leg bounced nervously. He grabbed your thigh, stopping the movement. His hand stayed there until you were in front of your place. You stared at him, his brown eyes boring into you.

"G'night."

He pulled his hand away, placing both of them on the steering wheel. You walked into your apartment, dizzy with confusion. "What the fuck is going on?"

[lovemomhatepolice]

i'll make it fit - rafe cameron

navigation taglist requests

pairing: rafe cameron x fem!reader

warnings: sexual overtones, established relationship, fingering, teasing, unprotected sex (PROTECTED YOURSELF), this damn tiny polo!!, English is my second language!, NO SPOILERS FOR SEASON 4

belonging: NO NUT NOVEMBER!

type: totally smut (this is the first time i've written something like this, which has practically no plot at all, just sex itself. keep my fingers crossed that it didn't turn out badly!!!), small plot but really small

word count: 1,8k

summary: rafe cameron likes things too small for him.

more content: obx masterlist, rafe cameron masterlist

Mornings in Tannyhill were mostly quiet. Since Ward Cameron was dead and his entire family had moved to a house in the Bahamas, it was quiet there. Hearing of Sarah had disappeared - she was probably somewhere with her friends, again putting her life at risk, nothing new. And the only one who lived there was Rafe, who had taken over the company from his father and decided to return to the “old garbage.” Well, and you lived there too, by the side of your beloved. You couldn't have dreamed of a better life.

You were awakened by the bright rays of the sun, which rudely crept through the slightly parted curtains into your shared bedroom. You dragged yourself lightly and glanced at the clock, which was on the bedside table and, as usual, was making that unbearable sound.

After muttered under your breath, you slipped out from under the warm quilt, which, to say the least, wasn't all that necessary - after all, it was summer. But by the fact that you were in just a lace petticoat, it definitely enveloped you with a warmth that was missing.

You didn't know what time it was, but by the fact that Rafe wasn't next to you, you knew it was probably after nine o'clock. You didn't have to look for him for long, because as soon as you stepped out into the hallway from your bedroom, you heard his voice. You looked out the balcony door, which was gently open, and smiled at the sight. Rafe, in a freshly stitched buzzcut, was sitting on the couch talking on the phone. In front of him on the coffee table he had papers spread out and a laptop in which he was busily tapping something. As soon as he noticed you he sent you a slight smile, but he was so engaged in the conversation that he did nothing more. And you couldn't be passive, after all, he was wearing a beautiful blue and damn tight polo that exposed his perfectly shaped biceps. You laughed quietly, seeing him nervously tweak them as they rolled up higher and higher each time, not covering as much of his arm as they should.

Despite his serious tone on the call, his eyes would flicker toward you every few moments, his smile softening just enough to let you know he was glad you were there.

Not one to resist temptation, you decided to have a little fun. You strolled over to him, moving slowly, letting your fingers trail along the back of the couch as you circled around to where he was sitting. Rafe’s eyes darted up, narrowing slightly in a silent warning.

You didn’t make it easy for him. With a mischievous smile, you leaned over and whispered into his ear, "That polo looks a little tight, don’t you think? You might need help taking it off later."

“Uh, yeah… sure,” he said to the person on the other end of the call, clearing his throat as if to regain his composure. “Send it to the office, they'll take care of it,” he muttered, hanging up.

You moved your hands over his shoulders, gently massaging them. Rafe put the phone down on the table, closed the laptop and leaned his head against the back of the couch, looking at you.

“You know what you're doing, huh?” he parroted under his breath.

“Maybe I do,” you whispered, letting your breath tickle his skin. “Just trying to make sure my man relaxes after handling all that business.”

“And what am I supposed to do with you?” he muttered, covering yours with his hands. “Whatever you want,” you muttered, going down with your palms on his chest. “Oh, but this polo is really too small for you.” Rafe laughed under his breath and gracefully helped you past the couch so that you were now standing in front of him, between his legs. You were in just a white lace slip that didn't cover much underneath, so Rafe could immediately see your hardening nipples.

You let out a soft laugh as Rafe’s strong hands gripped your thighs, pulling you effortlessly onto his lap. You straddled him, your knees sinking into the plush cushions of the couch on either side of his hips. The way he looked up at you—like you were the only thing in the world that could hold his attention—sent a warm rush through your veins.

"So needy" He muttered, stroking your hair and putting it behind your ears. “Who would have thought that you would beg for my attentions so much?”

“I'm not begging,” you muttered, swallowing your saliva loudly.

You could have sworn that in that moment Rafe heard your loud heartbeat. And even though you had been together for more than a year, he continued to trigger the same feelings in you. “No?” he asked ironically, his hand touching your pussy, which was covered only by a thong. “I would say something else.”

“Rafe,” you muttered, gently pushing your hips out to meet him as his nimble fingers pressed your clit harder. “So wet,” he mumbled, moving your panties aside and nimbly sliding his ring and middle finger into you.

You brought your face closer to his and grabbed his jaw, bringing your lips together in a sweet kiss. It was still quiet around you, the only things you could hear were the birds and your moans, drowned out by your boyfriend's mouth.

His thumb moved to your clit, the touch was light, teasing, his fingers tracing slow circles that sent tingles up your spine. And his fingers didn't stop moving up and down, each time hitting the exact same spot. Rafe knew what the fuck he was doing, he always knew how to make you in heaven in a moment by his precise movements. He knew your body like no one else, just like you knew his.

“Cum for me, baby,” he said, moving his lips to your naked neck. You felt you were close - Rafe did the same, following the feeling as you pulsed on his fingers. You didn't have to wait long until your body shook with pleasant and familiar reflexes, and you came on his fingers, burying your head in his neck.

Rafe took his fingers out of you and put them in his mouth, sucking on them. Oh this sight and Rafe in his damn tight blue polo, was something too strong for you to go through. You moved against his lap, letting him know that this was not what you wanted. “Still eager, huh?” he laughed throatily, but you didn't have to wait long. Rafe always knew what you needed and you got it right away. "You taste so good, baby"

“Rafe please,” you muttered, clasping your small hand over his large cock, which was getting harder and harder under you. “Anything for you,” he muttered, quickly getting rid of his pants.

Without much warning, he entered you. Slowly at first, because you knew very well that he was big. And even after so many times together, you continued to feel a slight discomfort at first. But Rafe always made it fit. He couldn't resist your tight pussy, which was even screaming for his attention. “Fuck, tight as ever,” he whispered, correcting himself on the couch so that you were more comfortable. “But don't worry, I'll make it fit.”

And as he said, so he did. With agility, he began to move inside you, making both of you nothing but moaning messes.

“Wait, I want,” you said, putting your hand on his chest. On that damn sexy polo. “Oh, a princess wants to take control?” he laughed under his breath, catching you under the thighs, but as if on cue he stopped moving inside you, making you feel again how big he was inside you. You groaned involuntarily, but didn't give in. You moved nimbly on top of him, practically taking him out of your pussy every now and then, and then lowering yourself all the way down again.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Rafe groaned, his head falling back against the couch, exposing the strong line of his throat. His eyes were hooded, his lips parted as he watched you, completely entranced by the way you were moving, the way you were making him feel.

You could tell he was trying to hold back, trying to let you set the pace, but the way his fingers flexed against your skin told you just how badly he wanted to take control.

“Not yet, Rafey,” you muttered, moving even closer to him. “You deserve the best. Especially, when you're in that slutty polo"

You increased your pace, but Rafe couldn't stand it anymore either, and came against you, entering your pussy from below. At that moment your bodies were merging at the perfect moments and places, so you were already not far from orgasm. And with that, he captured your lips again, his kiss rougher this time, more urgent. There was no more teasing now-just the raw, unfiltered need that always simmered between you both, threatening to spill over the edges.

“I'm so close,” you whispered into his mouth, clamping your pussy against him every so often. “I know, baby, I can feel it,” he muttered into your mouth, gently biting your lip to reach inside again. "Mmm, so good for me"

Rafe grabbed your buttocks and with even more force began to pound his cock into you. Your tongues fought for dominance, and your hands couldn't find room on his body, clamping down on the collars of his shirt.

"Shit" he murmured into your lips, feeling as his cum shot into your pussy, making quite a mess.

Not much later you too reach climax, clenching around his dick. Exhausted, you leaned on his shoulder kissing his neck. Rafe stroked your back, still calming down after the orgasm that hit you surprisingly hard this time. You felt him smiling over your shoulder, so you shared his happiness, smiling too. You moved your head off his shoulder, looking him straight in the eyes now. He was still inside you, so every movement, made quiet sighs come out of your throats.

“What's so funny?” you asked, stroking his jaw and kissing the corner of his mouth gently.

“Maybe I should wear that tight polo more often, just to find yourself in your tight cunt again?” he laughed lightly, returning your kiss.

“Oh shut up, asshole,” you muttered, lowering yourself on top of him once more until he groaned and settled his head on the back of the couch, pulling you against him.

A/N: I know there's a lot of Rafe or Drew here lately, but I swear, when I see this man, I feel so ungodly that oh jesus, i hope you enjoyed this

please do not copy and translate my works! in case of any issues related to this - I invite you to discuss privately :)

[steddieas-shegoes]

pop goes metal

for @corrodedcoffinfest prompt 'alternate universe'

rated t | 964 words | cw: language | tags: famous corroded coffin, pop star steve harrington, flirting, getting together

🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤

"No fuckin' way are we working with him," Eddie argues with their manager. "You're always so worried about our image and then you go and have us doing a song with a fuckin' pop artist?"

The manager, Anthony, rolls his eyes. "It'll broaden your fanbase. You know who spends money on shit? Women. You know who likes Steve Harrington? Women."

"Does he even write his own shit?" Gareth asks.

"Does it matter?" Eddie turned to him with a glare. "Even if he writes it, it's not our style."

"Maybe we could at least hear what he's trying to work with us on?" Jeff, always the calming presence, asked towards Anthony.

"He sent over a sample before we sign any agreements."

Eddie sat down in the chair furthest from everyone else, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Now, this isn't an official recording. Just what he did on his phone on his tour bus with his acoustic guitar. He arranged the bass already for Frankie, too, but said he's open to whatever Gareth feels is right for the drums." Anthony pressed play on his phone and the room was filled with strumming and a surprisingly raspy voice singing what was clearly a chorus.

Eddie could pretend he hated it, and maybe the guys would agree with him and they'd never have to speak of this again.

He couldn't hide his reaction fast enough, though.

His jaw dropped as he listened to the lyrics, surprised to find that they weren't just about going to a club and dancing or being in love.

Steve's voice broke at the end before there was shuffling and the recording stopped.

Eddie felt everyone's eyes on him. He closed his mouth and looked down at the floor, tapping his fingers against his arm.

"It's not bad," he finally said. "Not sure why he needs us, though."

"Apparently, his brother is a huge fan of you and suggested he try to work with you."

"I think we should do it." Jeff said, a note of finality in his tone that Eddie knew he wouldn't try arguing with.

"Yeah, can't hurt." Frankie shrugged.

"If he's giving me creative freedom on the drums, how can I say no?" Gareth smirked.

"Guess we're working with the pop diva, then."

****

Steve Harrington was nothing like what they expected.

He showed up to their studio in sweats and glasses, holding a tablet and a bottle of Tylenol. They started to introduce themselves as he found a spot on the couch.

"I'm really glad you guys were willing to work with me," he said after he shook everyone's hand.

Eddie stared.

"My uh, my brother, Dustin, he's kinda why I wrote this song and I know it means a lot that you agreed to be on it," Steve continued. "So, thanks. Hopefully it doesn't ruin your vibes or anything."

Eddie felt every wall he built crumbling with every word Steve spoke. God dammit, this man just had to be sincere and hot and talented, didn't he?

"Nah, we're gonna sound great together." Eddie smiled at Steve's wide-eyed look. "You wanna show us the whole song?"

Steve nodded, pulling something up on his phone. Another recording, this one more professional and included an electric guitar.

"Robin was the stand in for the electric while I did bass."

"So you can play bass?" Frankie asked, leaning in.

"Yeah, but my preferred instrument is piano. I just don't do a lot of slow songs. Guitar is what gets the women interested, or so they tell me," Steve smiled awkwardly. "But feel free to change some things up. I'm totally open to suggestions."

But really, it was damn near perfect as it was. Frankie made one tweak during the bridge, but Steve ended up loving it more than the original and told him so with a grin.

"You're a fuckin' genius!" He exclaimed.

Gareth started messing around on the drums while Steve and Eddie worked on the first couple of lines.

"Something still doesn't feel right," Steve mentioned.

"Maybe we change the rhyming pattern?" Eddie suggested. "You've got ABAB. Might work better to do AABB. Some of these words can be moved around to make that work."

Steve stared at the notes app for a moment, then looked back up at Eddie, beaming smile making his eyes squint.

"I could kiss you!" He shouted. As soon as he realized what he said, he blushed, looking back down at the phone. "I mean, thanks. That's a great suggestion."

Eddie searched Steve's face, coming to the conclusion that there was probably a good reason why Steve didn't care about what women liked when it came to his music.

"I have a pretty strict rule about kissing people I work with," Eddie said slowly, quietly so they wouldn't be overheard.

"Yeah, no, that makes sense. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable or-"

"But we won't be working with each other for long, right?" Eddie continued, letting his hand rest on Steve's thigh. God, he was muscular.

"Um. No I guess not."

"Rain check, then. Until we've finished our professional relationship." Eddie couldn't believe he was suggesting this. Showing interest in a pop star. What's next? Dating one? Marrying one?

"Are you saying you wanna kiss me, Munson?" Steve suddenly sounded more confident.

"I'm saying we've got work to do before I can get my hands on you." Eddie tapped his thigh before pulling away. "So let's get to it."

"Dude! I got it!" Gareth yelled, interrupting their moment.

"Be right there!" Steve yelled back, not looking away from Eddie. "Might break a record for fastest recording time ever just so I can kiss you," Steve added quietly to Eddie before standing and walking over to Gareth.

"Well, fuck." Eddie sighed, smiling to himself.

[wonderjanga]

Marvel not Caring

I feel like the few times Billy needs to get something over with, he just doesn’t care. Like honestly, I’m going to connect this to my Marvel Compilations post. (In that post I just talked about how Marvel could be a clip farm and the potential vids he would have) Let’s say these are all from the 8 minutes and 47 seconds of the Big Red Cheese tweaking out vid. Cause why not?

One day, Marvel’s doing patrol. See, he wants to get it done with, hopefully with no major villain attacks happening, because Darla has a school play, and he wants to see her, even if she got cast as a tree. But of course, things didn’t go his way, especially just when he needs to start heading out for the play.

*vid opens up to Marvel floating in the sky looking down at a Female Villain*

Female Villain: *attacking people and causing general havoc*

Marvel: *looks around for any cameras and doesn’t see the one recording the vid*

Female Villain: *sees him and his about to do something*

Marvel: *winds hand back (as if he needed to) and backhands her like an abusive husband*

Any Nearby Civilians: *cover their mouths as they look away. A good chunk of them sped walked away*

Female Villain: *knocked the fuck out*

I’m telling you right now, a good chunk of the comments on that video were something along the lines of ““that’s not right,” I whisper to myself as I speed walk away” or ““You don’t hit a woman,” I think to myself as I step into the safety of my car and drive away.” All stuff like that.

The day after that…

Marvel: “I just ended the problem as soon as I could, guys! I don’t beat women!” Superman: “We know! We know, but did you have to it so… so ferociously?”

Marvel: “Ferociously?”

Flash: “Dude, you looked like you’ve been waiting to do that.”

Marvel: “I haven’t! It was just effective, and I was on a time crunch.”

Flash: “Time crunch?”

Marvel: “Yeah, I had to see this person I know go be in a play.”

Batman: “Hn. You could’ve just said you wanted to see your child’s play. I’ll admit I’ve done something similar when Robin was in a play of his own.”

Superman: “Yeah. If the play thing is true, that’s a valid reason for any father to do that.”

Marvel: *a little confused as to why they assumed Darla was his kid* “Uh, yeah. I didn’t want to miss it.”

Flash: “Who was it for by the way? Junior or Mary?”

Marvel: “Neither.”

*silence*

Marvel: “You guys don’t know her. She isn’t a hero.”

Flash: “Dude… you have another kid? Why do you never tell us these things about yourself??”

Then, there’s another clip of Junior and Marvel. Beast Boy recorded the audio for shiggles and hid behind a wall but was surprisingly met with:

Marvel: “Okay, you know what, Junior? I don’t care that you’re disabled. Put your hands up.”

Junior: “Dude, I am not fighting you. You’re stronger than me.”

Marvel: “So? You’re only a little bit weaker. If you paid Mary like five dollars, I’m sure she’d fight with you. Now anyways put your hands up.”

Junior: “She’s not even here! And, hey- hey- Stop that!”

A lot of crashes and bangs could be heard for about 30 seconds. The video then ended.

Then, there’s another clip of him and Mary sibling arguing, but of course, most people think that Cap’s her and Juniors dad. So, when they say certain things, people tend to view it more extremely.

Marvel and Mary: *arguing*

Marvel: *says something completely outlandish that you should absolutely not say to a child*

Mary: *barely blinks and says something right back*

Marvel: “Oh so help me Gods, if we weren’t related, I would scrape your face across the pavement.”

Mary: “Oh yeah? Well if we weren’t related, I would skin you with a butter knife!”

The two proceeded to continue arguing before they somehow make up mid insult and go get ice cream like nothing happened.

Bonus:

Black Adam and Marvel: *floating up in the sky*

Black Adam: “You know, you’ve never said anything remotely similar to that to me.”

Marvel: “What’re you talking about?”

Black Adam: “I would scrape your face across the pavement.”

Marvel: *nearly has a heart attack when he says that*

Black Adam: “You said that to the girl. You’ve shown more disdain for that girl than you have for I.”

Marvel: “Uhhhh…” *panicking cause he doesn’t know about the video*

Black Adam: “Do you… not take me seriously?”

Marvel: “No, no, no, of course I do!”

In this AU, Marvel doesn’t really throw much shade at his villains aside from the occasional comment and that’s it.

[pascals-doll]

“dont make a fuckin sound, hands up”

ellie williams x reader

🫧 yes, i lowk tweaked out when she said that before proceeding to kill the woman but i-

🫧 i had originally titiled it dont say a word cause i thought what she originally said was too long of a title BUT FUCK IT THAT SHIT MAKES MY PUSSY THROB

🫧 description: outbreak ellie! joel isnt dead teehee, smut smut SMUT lesbian smut, ellie being rough, fingering, oral sex (both reciving), bonadage with a flannel (reader recieving), finger sucking/gagging?, no mentions of y/n just pet names like princess, doll, pretty, and babe

you were dripping, your own juices trailing down your thigh….

how did you end up in this predicament exactly?

You went to Joel’s house, simply because he asked you to come over and help ellie out in the stables in the morning.

you arrived and greeted Joel, telling you that Ellie is upstairs.

The second you open that door, you were not safe. not for a second.

youre hand turns the knob, the door slightly opens to reveal no one in your view yet.

“Ellie?” you call out, slightly peeking.

you’re suddenly slightly pushed in, door closing shut simultaneously before youre swiftly pushed up against a wall.

your body had no choice but to go along with the jerking of each movement.

you were shocked slightly but by the non-aggressive behavior behind it, you knew who it was before even being against the wall.

“hi pretty” ellie says softly, hastily laying yet the softest kisses on your neck.

“oh, i see someone was definitely ready to see me” you joke, as you slightly pull her back to pull her in for a kiss. yet a kiss, led to her cupping your ass.

“lock the door” you mutter in between the heated lip-locking.

ellie locks it, wasting no time in scooping you up with all her strength and leading you onto her bed.

you pull away from the heated kiss momentarily.

“babe, Joel is right down-” you began to softly say before ellie placing a finger on your lips, shushing you.

she gives you a mischievous smirk before lowering her head in between your chest.

you can’t help but let out a soft sigh of relief as your squirm around under her hold.

“you missed me princess?” ellie mutters softly now undoing your bra clasps, straps falling off your shoulders revealing your perky chest.

you slightly shrug your shoulders so the bra falls off graciously completely.

ellie wasted no time in attacking your hard nipples and soft plush skin of your tits.

your hands made their way through her soft short brown locks, slightly tugging causing her to wrap her tongue around your right nipple, palming the left one.

“dont make a fuckin’ sound, hands up” ellie says in a stern yet calming tone, yet enough to make your heart race and back arch.

her hands grabs ahold of your wrists, putting them above your head.

ellie quickly grabs one of her flannels that was laying on her bed, grabbing it and rolling it slightly to tie around your wrists.

“is that good, doll?” she reassures lowly, you swore you couldve let out a purr with the shiver she sent down your spine.

you lift your hips up to brush up against hers “lets take these off, yeah?” she teases as you evidently get impatient.

“ellie baby, please” you coo out, moving your arms from the position they were even if they were tied together.

“nuh-uh, keep them there.” she says, looking up at you through her hooded stern eyes. she begins to undo the button of your shorts, zipper following quick after.

you raise your hips as she slides them down your legs, she grabs each of your thighs, pulling you closer to her and spreading your legs farther apart to reveal the pathetic wet patch seaping through your panties.

“seems like im not the only real excited” she teases with a sly smirk.

you grow pink and shy, trying to shut your legs but her hands quickly pulling them back to their original position “no need to get all shy doll, you look gorgeous like this” she says lovingly, before lowering herself so she can peck your thighs teasingly.

you were hot, you’re entire body felt like it was on fire with each kiss, touch, and word that came out of ellie just made you feel engulfed in a flame.

you’re mind felt hazy as she inched closer and closer to your pussy, making you squirm even more within her embrace.

“please el, please” you whine out.

“please what?” she teases, smiling at you, bringing two fingers to rub your wet folds through your panties.

“please fuck me-fuck me, ellie” you whine out, maybe a little too loud. ellie wasnt so pleased this time.

“what the fuck did i say?” she says before sucking harshly on both titties as she removed your panties quickly as her two fingers finding your pussy.

you let out a pressed shut whimper as your lips are pressed together in pure bliss of finally being rewarded by her.

“t-to not say a word” you say in a delicate tone, it made ellie spiral at how vulnerable you looked.

“ima make you feel so so good, princess” ellie coos, her hand caressing your face then going to cares your tits as her tongue swipes a long line along your juicy folds.

you continue to press your lips shut as soon as ellies tongue fucks you relentlessly.

the sensation of ellies tongue running all along your clit in a circular motion while sucking ever so slightly will have your back arching every fucking time and she knows it.

ellie with both hands pushes your legs up to your chest to get full exposure of your pussy. you bit your lip so aggressively, you swore you couldve bled, biting back the loudest moan possible.

you could feel ellies eyes on you, watching you from the crevess of your cunt and both legs. she smiles as she takes one hand and within no time, she has her middle and ring finger sliding inside of your pussy.

youre eyes roll in pure bliss as you lift your hips to meet closer to her tongue, you struggle in not wanting let everyone outside and Joel know youre getting slutted out in ellie’s bedroom.

“doing s’good pretty” she praises as she fucks her fingers into you nonstop and moving her tongue away.

ellie’s face finally meet yours making you lean up for a kiss hungrily, your lips meet together in perfect moving in sync.

ellies fingers continuing to ease you to you closer and closer to your orgasm.

you let out the softest whimpers against her lips, ellie swears she could listen to you make those noises like the music that plays in her headphones like nothing.

ellie pulls away causing you to let a little frown settle upon your face but being quickly replaced with your jaw loosening and back arching by the vigorous rubbing of your clit by her thumb as her fingers get wetter.

your mind gets hazy as no words fall out but heavy pants and breathy whines

“good girl, c’’mon cum doll” ellies praises were enough to send you over the edge.

you dig your nails into her arm as you cant help but slightly shake “mmhm, thats what i like to see” ellie whispers to herself as she slides her white coated fingers out of you.

“open” she says, you open your mouth taking in her fingers and sucking softly.

you keep eye contact as you taste yourself on her fingers.

“my turn” you say, all done cleaning off her fingers causing her smile as you quickly pull down her sweatpants and quickly switching positions.

you lay ellie down as your lips meet hungrily.

you pull her panties down, she was just as wet, if not even more.

“youre such a good girl for me” ellie mutters, admiring the site of such a beautiful sight infront of her, you in between her legs.

you love each praise that leaves her lips as you inch closer to her pussy, immediately attaching your lips softly to her swollen wet clit causing her to groan out a “fuck” it was little loud.

just like that, a knock on ellie’s door.

you move your head up and look at her in panic.

“is everything good in there girls?” Joel says loudly, concerned sealed into his tone.

“y-yeah! i got a wound and shes helping me clean it! we’ll head to the stables soon!” ellie yells back, giving you a look of panic and hope.

“okay, unlock the door once youre done.” he says before you hear his steps walking away from the door.

you both let out a fit of giggles.

“lets continue you this after?” you suggest, mischievously smirking.

[hmslusitania]

Ask meme! For TimKon, either 17. “Please stay.” or 34. “When did you know for sure?”

May I offer you: an angst with a happy ending? (who am I kidding; it's you, of course I can)

“When did you know?” Kon asks, staring out well past the horizon. Tim thinks that surely, he must see it, must be able to tell, he’s got fucking super vision of various sorts, but… But he sounds so dejected about it. Like he… like he hadn’t been able to tell. “For sure, I mean, when did you figure it out?”

“Um,” Tim says, and picks up a handful of sand on this very not-at-all real version of Kon’s favourite beach in Hawaii. “Last… night.”

Kon’s face burns bright red and Tim can’t really look at him anymore.

It all feels too real, even though this place isn’t anything of the sort.

And he’s pretty sure that includes Kon.

It had been a smart plan, Tim can tip his hat at the villain du jour for that, at least metaphorically. Trap Tim in a simulated reality, but instead of making it somewhere he knows inside and out, like Gotham, like Happy Harbour, they’d programmed him into a place he only knows in story and rumour. Tim wouldn’t really have any way of determining if there were differences between the real Hawaii the real Kon’s been talking about for as long as Tim’s known him, and this fake, simulation of it. And the programmers had done a pretty perfect job with Kon, too, except for the parts where he can’t tell that this whole place is a simulation, and the part where…

“My Kon, I mean the one who’s not a computer programme, because, like, he’s not mine, mine,” Tim starts. “He’s not… y’know. In love with me.”

Kon is silent for a minute, just staring out at the water and at the small waves lapping steadily higher up the beach while the sun rises. Tim would find this whole conversation a lot less excruciating if computer!Kon was wearing more than boxers with the House of El logo on the crotch, but, well, this simulation was designed to trap and torture him, so he’s not.

“I don’t feel like a computer simulation,” Kon says finally, and buries his toes in the sand like he’s making a point of feeling the sensations. “I remember — I remember meeting you when you were still Robin and I didn’t know who I was beyond Superman’s replacement, and I remember Bart, and Young Justice, and Cassie, and the Teen Titans, and dying and—”

“They probably built you off a brain scan of the real Kon,” Tim says. Tact and gentleness have never been his fortes but, fuck he tries this time.

“Right, and just, like, tweaked my memories so that I can remember being in love with you half that time, and the entire time I was lost in Gemworld, and—”

“Yeah, I guess they must’ve,” Tim says, even though it makes him want to puke. “This place is too… it’s too perfect. You’re too perfect.”

Kon scoffs, and makes a choked off noise that’s all too familiar after last night and Tim flushes with shame that he knows what Kon sounds like now. The thing is, it’s a very, very good simulation, and this isn’t knowledge Tim should have, because out in the real world, Kon doesn’t want to share that information with him.  It’s none of Tim’s business, no matter how desperately he wants it to be.

“Nice to know I’m apparently good enough in bed to convince you it’s all too good to be true,” Kon says, with forced bravado.

Tim swallows, because that assessment isn’t untrue, but it’s only part of the story. “Also I think my biometrics must’ve spiked high enough to temporarily overload the system, because a bird clipped through our room while we were, uh…”

“Oh,” Kon says, blushing even harder. “So, um, now that you know this is fake, does that mean you’re going to escape?”

“Yeah,” Tim says. He swallows. “I just have to crash the programme, make it generate something so insanely huge its processing power can’t keep up.”

“Oh, right, just that,” Kon says. He very gamely swallows, and because he’s built on a very convincing facsimile of Tim’s real Kon, he stands up and nods. “So what do you need me to do?”

**

Tim is not surprised when the explosion they trigger in the simulation tips him out of it’s destabilising pixelated mess into a sketchy futuristic lab. Spaceship? Probably spaceship by the black starfield outside the windows.

He is surprised when his own exit from the gel couch matrix situation is echoed by someone else in another matching chair thing behind him.

He grabs for any kind of weapon available and rounds the central structure, ready to strike, only to find himself face to face with—

“Kon?” he demands. “You’re here too?”

Kon defuses the heat vision that had been starting to build behind his eyes, and then just stares at Tim, blushing a violent red like the heat vision had dispersed through his cheeks.

“Of course he is here too,” an annoyed voice that gives major evil scientist vibes says over the PA. “The simulation traps work best when there are two parties within them to reinforce the shared folie à deux!”

“Sh-shared?” Kon asks.

“Both of us were in the same—” Tim starts, and he understands Kon’s blush better now because he can feel his own viciously taking over his face.

“You thought I was a simulation,” Kon says, floating out of his matrix plug in chair to loom over Tim even taller than he usually is.

“You’re in lo—” Tim starts, but their captor’s voice crackles over the PA system again.

“Yes, yes, teenaged angst. You may continue your argument once my assistants have placed you back in your simulation!”

“We’re twenty-one, actually,” Tim corrects. “And you can—”

He means to tell the disembodied voice exactly where he can expect Tim’s bo staff (as soon as he finds it in one of the cargo pods here in this space station situation they’ve got going on) but Kon cuts him off by pulling Tim’s face into his hands and kissing him.

No birds clip through the walls this time, and the sensation of Kon’s TTK sweeping over him, like it’s not enough to just be touching Tim with his hands, like he has to touch all of him at once, is one that Tim hadn’t been able to fully conjure up out of his imagination. It’s different enough that Tim actually forgets for a second that they’re imprisoned on a space station and have been under for god knows how long, and he seriously considers simply climbing Kon like a tree right then and there to get the actual physical details mapped out.

“I can’t believe you thought my love confession was a simulation,” Kon murmurs against Tim’s lips.

Tim hums and kisses him again. Really, actually kisses Kon. Who really, actually wants to kiss him, too. “I meant it when I said you’re too good to be true.”

“Good thing we’re in a really shitty situation we need to figure our way out of if we want to get back to earth so I can show you the real version of that beach,” Kon says. “Because that part feels pretty on par.”

“Yeah,” Tim agrees, and sighs. He can hear the distant thuds of whatever sorts of robocop automata their captor has coming towards them now, and this fight’s gonna kinda suck, he thinks. At least there will be one hell of a reward for making it through to the other side. “Ready to fight for our lives?”

“With you?” Kon asks, and can’t help himself but to pull Tim in for one more kiss. “Always.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Know Your Place 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, power dynamic, age gap, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Walter Marshall, destroyer!Chris [for the purposes of this AU, I will give him the last name Jackson] (Professor AU)

Summary: after a life time of home schooling, you finally get to experience the real world in college. (petite reader)

Part of the Bad Professors AU

Note: Please leave some feedback and reblog <3 As always, I love to chat with you all. 

The noise all around has you reeling. You’re not used to so many people. So many voices and smells and sights. The frantic action of it all reminds you of a mid-00s movie about a high school. The coeds are like animals milling about in groups with the odd single body rushing between with a mission stitched between their brows. 

You sit with your thermos of tea and try to focus on your schedule. You have a campus map from the Student Support Centre next to it, trying to map out your route for each day. Momma said you should try to get ahead, figure out where you’re going. She’s always right. 

You have two classes that day. As you find the buildings on the map, planting a finger on each, you find that they are on completely different ends of the campus. Of course. Well, momma didn’t know that where they would be, did she? She said you have to balance your load; if you’re going to be an English major, make sure you take some math and science for your electives. 

You circle the two buildings and put lets beside them denoting which day you need to be there, numbering them in the order the classes occur. A burst of laughter breaks your concentration and you look around, trying to find the source. You almost miss the calm isolation of your childhood living room. 

No, you’re grown now and you begged Momma to let you go to college. Not online, but in person. You even worked all summer at the deli so you could live in a dorm. She was proud but worried. She’s never been good at letting go. She’s already called three times today and it’s not even noon. 

As the crowd blurs around you, a sudden gust blows over the table as someone sits across from you. You stare back at them with a gasp. They must’ve mistaken you for someone else. You blink as the man tugs on the front of his letterman jacket and smiles. He doesn’t seem mistaken. 

“Hey,” he leans forward on an elbow, “you waitin’ for someone? Got some cute girlfriends on their way?” 

He’s so forward, he has your brows as high as they can go and your cheeks are on fire. It’s not much of an introduction. 

“Excuse me?” You eke out. 

“Ah, I’m sorry, hon, I’m getting ahead of myself,” he smirks as he crosses both his arms on the table. “I’m Colin. You looked lonely.” 

“Oh, uh, I’m just... figuring out my schedule,” you utter dumbly. Yor brain isn’t clicking. Why is he talking to you? 

Your ears tweak and you notice a group in similar jackets, sitting just across the dining area, gabbing loudly, snickering. You wonder why he isn’t over there with them. You wiggle your pen anxiously. 

“Ah, you’re not gonna give me a name for that pretty face?” He says. 

“Huh?” Your brows drop, “what?” 

Your momma’s voice echoes in your head. ‘Be careful of those college boys. They only want one thing.’ You didn’t believe her. They don’t want that from you. You were sure once you saw the other girls in their tight leggings and short tops. 

“Your name, baby? Gotta be something sweet, huh?” 

Your face ripples as you wade through surprise, confusion, then something else. You’re almost giddy. This man, with his mussed blond hair and bright blue eyes, and his chiseled features, is asking you your name. It’s flattering. 

“Mauve,” you can’t help but smile as you answer. 

“Oh, yeah? That’s pretty, well, Mauve,” he takes out his phone, “me and my buddies are having a party tonight and we’re supposed to find a hottie to bring with us. I’m having no luck but if I show up alone, well... I might not get to stay in the frat. You get it?” 

You stare at him. You're confused. You don’t really understand frats and whatnot. They just seem like clubs people join so they can drink. 

“You wanna do me a favour? Come with me?” He asks. 

He’s bold. Bolder than any one you’ve ever met. You sputter but can’t come up with any words. 

“Please,” he pouts, “promise, I won’t try anything, I just gotta get these guys off my back.” 

He looks over his shoulder at the table of rowdy guys. You squirm in your seat, uncertain. You’ve never been to a party. Wow. 

“Here, I’ll get your number,” he taps on his phone screen, “I’ll send you the details--” 

“Leave her alone,” a grizzly voice undercuts the frat across from you. 

A thick man stands behind him. He has a cardboard cup in his hand as he glares down at the coed. His burly figure is swathed in a dark green sweater and grey slacks. He’s older and his dark curls are threaded with subtle twinkles of silver. 

“Huh? Who the hell are you?” 

“Why don’t you show her those pictures you were snapping of her? The ones you and your pals were laughing about?” The other man growls.  

You frown. What? You don’t understand what’s going on. You look from one to the other. The younger man sat across from your sighs and rolls his eyes. 

“Fuck it. Whatever. Lots of pigs to go around,” he shakes his head and stands, facing the other man. “You know, bro, just cause you’re too old to get with any ass around here, doesn’t mean you gotta ruin it for others.” 

“Get out of here,” the thicker man snarls. The other winces just slightly before puffing up his chest and stomping away. 

You remain as you are, aghast and lost. The man with the dark curls looks at you. You shrug at him. 

“I’m sorry, sir, did I do something wrong?” You ask. 

The harsh angles of his scowl ease and he lets out a long breath, “uh, no, not you. That boy, you know, any one that wears one of those jackets, they’re no good. Just some advice.” 

“Oh, right,” you look over at that guy, Colin, “sorry, I didn’t know. He just started talking to me. I was being polite.” 

“Seem like a nice girl. Just tryna look out for you.” 

“Yeah, thanks,” you chew your lip and sniff. “Are you... are you teacher?” 

“I’m a professor,” he confirms as he holds his cup close to his chest. He's one of the biggest men you’ve ever seen. And his eyes are as blue as the ocean. “Professor Marshall but unless you’re a psych student, you can call me Walter.” 

“Walter? My neighbour is Walter. At home. He’s eighty-one and he collects baseball cards,” you let yourself smile. You always felt more comfortable around older people. You never had many friends your own age. 

“Don’t mind some baseball myself,” he dips his chin. “Well, you look out for yourself and avoid the Greeks.” 

“Greeks?” You make a face. 

“Fraternities,” he says. “And sororities, if you can help it.” 

“Oh, okay. Thank you, sir,” you feel a little better. You think he’s right and he is a professor. He would know. “I’ll do that.” 

“Sir? It’s Walter,” he corrects you. 

“Oh, sorry, Walter,” you smile. “I’m Mauve.” 

He nods and shifts his cup, “Mauve,” he repeats, “well, nice to meet you.” 

“You too, sir, er, Walter. Thank you,” you say. 

He hesitates then steps back on his heel, “yeah, no problem.” 

He slowly retreats and you watch him, your heart playing like a drum. You did it. You spoke to strangers and you didn’t melt. Things are getting easier. If you could get through that, you’re sure you’ll make lots of friends in your classes. 

[namikawa]

— [the perfect host]

featuring: s. geto, s. gojo

cw: smut, implied threesome, cunnulingus, implied m/m, phone sex (?), daddy kink (ofc), established relationship (reader & gojo), fingering, fem reader, chubby reader, getting “caught” masturbating, use of the word cunt (sorry lol), aftercare, not proofread fr, anything else i forgot lolz, pet names (mama, baby, pretty, sweetheart, love). wc: n/a.

notes: this is actually a fic my friend wrote (never published) & i re did it with two diff characters & finished it for her cause she never did… so if yall like it GO TO HER BLOG ILL TAG HER. this wasn’t my og idea i just wrote the smut and tweaked & added. but enjoy pls, sorry i haven’t posted in so long life has beat me up. @nvmjccnluv !!!

“so explain to me why i’m watching her again, she seems completely capable of staying in your apartment alone yknow.” suguru questions over the phone. it’s not that he hates you, but what if he was busy? he wasn’t, but gojo didn’t need to know that, he didn’t even ask to be fair. quickly dropping you off after handing the long haired man a small bag of your things.

on the other end of the phone gojo lets out a huff of laughter. “had a few things to finish up, she gets too lonely when i leave her at home so i didn’t want her getting into things. you know how it is.”

“i actually don’t, but okay man.”

“anyway, she doesn’t like many people but she didn’t seem to mind you the last time we hung out, you seemed like a safe option.” gojo continues, sounding a bit strained.

“okay, whatever, fine.”

“where’s she at anyways? if she was with you she would’ve jumped your bones to get to the phone.”

walking toward the the closed door in the hallway, geto chuckles before reassuring his friend. “relax dude, she’s in the room taking a na- holy shit.”

-

“what happened??”

the dark haired man places his ear on the door to make sure he’s not hallucinating, not saying that he’s hoping to be.

muffled moans greet his ears, but not muffled enough evidently. no, you wanted him to hear. he would have to pass by your room anyways, given that you two would be sharing a wall for the night. but him being on the phone with your boyfriend was just a coincidence, an extremely embarrassing one.

he listens to your soft whines and high pitched whimpers for what feels like days, though its hasn’t even been half a minute, paying no mind to the man yelling at him on the phone.

“SUGURU? ANSWER ME! IS SHE OKAY? I SWEAR IF SOMETHING HAPPE-” at this point geto tries to think as hard as possible to come up with a lie that won’t get him killed by his friend.

snapping out of his daze, he finally gets enough courage to respond, “yeah um i’m pretty sure, maybe i’m wrong, i think she’s uh masturbating.”

“oh, oh okay” suguru can basically hear a smirk he knows all to well forming on gojos mouth. “don’t be a rude host, go help her out man.”

what the fuck is he talking about help you out? he can’t be understanding that this is his girlfriend he’s talking about, right? on top of that, shouldn’t he be asking you for consent as well.

“are you insane man? i know you’re into all that weird shit, but her? she’d probably kill me before i even got close to the bed and throw my dead body out of my own apartment.” as nice as it sounds he didn’t know if you’d be okay with any of this. he wasn’t going to just walk straight in, right?

there’s a loud howl that comes directly from the other end of the phone. “are you really being this much of a pussy right now? i’m giving you full permission to go help my girl out, and you wanna whine about how she might kill y-”

“shut the hell up man, i didn’t say anything about being a pussy.”

“alright, then there shouldn’t be an issue with you helping her out. don’t sit up on your high horse and act like you haven’t thought about it before, i know just how those perverted thoughts of yours work, don’t you rememb-”

“okay okay shut up satoru, im going.”

pushing open the door, the first thing geto notices is your hand rubbing lightly between your soft thighs and how your wetness soaks the bed, clear evidence of how needy you were. how long have you been at it?

gojo can hear you so clearly over the phone, he might as well be in the room with you, “shit, is that her pussy i’m hearing? whats it look like?” he questions, but unfortunately for him he receives no answer.

suguru is too busy enjoying the view and listening to the pathetic little sounds coming from your cunt. his sweatpants are slowly starting to fit a little tighter than before, but he doesn’t make any movements yet, just in case you don’t wanna play this little game.

almost immediately your soft eyes flutter open and lock into his, and he swears he just came in his pants.

“sugi, please, it hurts so much,” you whine out to him, desperate for his veiny hands on you. your own hand never seems to falter though, only moving in more erratic circles around your sensitive clit; while your other hand is busy touching your nipples, trying to get the most stimulation possible.

knowing that you were just as needy for him as he was for you made the man’s confidence peak. he gives you a light smile as he walks closer to the bed, softly sitting down next to you. he leans over you a bit, close enough to where you can smell the minty, almost overpowering, scent of his shampoo. half his hair loosely tied up in a bun, the other half falling past his shoulders as he looks down at you.

“something wrong, pretty? those fingers not doing enough for you, right? don’t ‘cha wanna wait for your boyfriend to come back so he can help you out, he’s on the phone you know.”

his soft hands begin to work at your thighs, but it seems like it’ll never be any more than that. continuing for a little longer, he presses the speaker button on his phone, handing it over to you as you pull away from your core.

“can you hear me, sweetheart?” gojo asks, now finally getting some time to speak to you after being ignored for so long. “i gave sugi permission to help you out, okay? does that sound alright to you?” he utilizes the small nickname you’d given his friend, innocently coercing you to be good.

you give a small “mmm” in agreement. then, opening your legs, you grab at suguru’s hand and place it between your thighs, just barely touching your cunt.

gojo continues, smiling to himself on the other side of the device. “‘kay. i’m gonna talk you through it, just so i know you’re treating my girl right. take two of your fingers and stuff it inside of her, she’ll clench up at first but just keep working at it and she’ll open up, okay? maybe if you do good, you can have something too.”

geto lets out an annoyed breath, short, but just long enough for gojo to catch it. he knows what that means. what’s even stopping him from fucking you in first place? it’s not like gojo would know. but as he looks into your pleading eyes he realizes he’d do anything to make sure you’re content and happy.. even if that means listening to satoru’s perverted requests.

his fingers slide down to rub at your clit just a bit, before burying his pointer and ring finger deep into your cunt, you clench so tight around him, it makes him feel like he’s dreaming the way your teeth suck at your bottom lip attempting to hide your whines.

“cmon pretty, open up for me. promise i’ll make you feel good, okay?”

a throaty whimper slides from between your lips as geto’s fingers work you open. “‘s good sugi, please like that more.” you scoot down a little more, chasing his fingers to get even just a little more stimulation.

“next you’re gonna press on her clit, just a little though she’s a sensitive little thing.” gojo groans out, it’s obvious he’s taken a break from his work to focus on… other things.

“yeah yeah, i know how to use my fingers, asshole.” suguru voices, clearly annoyed. although, he still abides by the instructions and moves his thumb to press on your clit just a tiny bit. your back arches away from his fingers almost immediately, like a natural instinct, he grabs your plush hips with his other hand, pulling you back down. “nuh uh, c’mere sweet girl, you wanted my help you’re gonna get it.”

his delicate fingers curve upward into you and you feel as if you’re floating on cloud nine, the way he flicks them at just the right speed while managing to hold you down and deepen his movements. it’s all too much for him you.

the sound of gojo’s voice breaks geto out of his daze, “fuck, i gotta go suguru. i know you’ll take care of her. i’m gonna have to cut this shit short, i’ll try to come back later tonight instead of tomorrow morning. love you guys, love you baby, be good for sugi okay?” geto’s eyes immediately flicker to yours, and you see just a little bit of what you think could be fear, or excitement, in his eyes.

“bye daddy, love you too.” you whine out, hearing a quick click before the call ends.

“daddy?” he questions. “knew he was into some shit, didn’t know you were too, sweet girl. you’re too pretty and innocent, or at least you put up a good act.” his fingers slide out of you as he snickers, not ignoring the way you pout at the loss of stimuli.

“nah, not gonna leave you here all needy don’t worry mama, just gonna do it my way, that sound good to you?” geto grabs you by your hips as you choke out a small “yea”, pushing you closer to the headboard of the bed. he fully removes his hair tie and throws all of it up into a bun, swiftly grabbing your underwear and pulling it off.

you look down at him as he crawls closer to you on his stomach, wrapping his arms around your thighs and closing them around his head. you feel his fingers spread your cunt apart, licking a long stripe onto you. your body tenses up, and on instinct your hand finds its way into suguru’s hair, tugging lightly. his head perks up at you, smiling, but eventually just deciding to leave you be.

his tongue swipes over your clit, taking small breaths occasionally as he tastes your cunt. neither one of you know who this is really for at this point. he’s supposed to be ‘helping you’ but with the tent growing in his sweats he might as well be doing this for his own pleasure instead. you continue to take harsh pulls at his dark strands, so unfamiliar to you. mostly with satoru you opted for scratching at his shoulders or gripping at the sheets due to the length he kept his hair, but this, this was something you could get used to.

“sugi please, m so close, want it so bad, need you to make me cum.” you cry out, loving the way his nose rubs against your clit as he licks.

he doesn’t say anything, he can’t really, but you know he understands. he grips your thighs tighter, licking the same way as before, occasionally sucking at your clit, and before you know it you’re squirming all over his face as that familiar feeling rushes over you.

the only thing that suguru could make out of your cries were “thank you”, “so good”, and “daddy”? he wasn’t sure if you were calling him daddy or if you wanted gojo, but at this point it didn’t really matter to him. he pleased you and that’s all he needed to make him feel better.

as he lifted his head up from your pussy he could already tell how tired you were getting, he immediately grabbed you a change of clothes that gojo had packed and cleaned you up with a wet washcloth. “everything okay, mama? need anything?” your eyes strain open and you smile at the man standing above you, “i’m okay, thank you for your help. will you stay?” you could tell that he genuinely cared for you, and was worried he had done something wrong by the tone in his voice. him staying was more for him rather than yourself, not that you were complaining.

he pulled off his shirt as he crawled into bed next to you. grabbing his phone from the bedside table he saw that gojo had sent him a message.

“i’ll take care of you both when i’m back, cause i’m betting you didn’t take anything for yourself. see you both soon ;)”

suguru chuckled to himself at the message from his friend, looking down at you peacefully sleeping on his chest. maybe he could get used to something like this? but for now, he’s content.

[hp-hcs]

Could I request some Yan poly Theo and Mattheo x male reader please?

Where he is an animagus that can turn into a cat just like McGonagal.

Where he goes to them in his cat form for cuddles and scratches and stuff because he’s touch starved, but what the reader doesn’t know is that they know who he is and that he’s not a normal cat, and the reason everyone’s been avoiding him both in his cat form and human form is because they’ve made everyone besides him know that he’s theirs and threaten them. Just the usual possessive Yan behaviour from the duo. Maybe they buy him a collar or something in his cat form and he gets all embarrassed because he doesn’t know that they know he’s a human and just has to wear it when he’s a cat-??

I’m so sorry if it’s too detailed

um, obsessed???

also i tweaked the ending you asked for just a little bit cause i never know how to end fics 🫠

i genuinely despise this. fully anticipate me just deleting this and starting over.

also please never apologize for too much detail it literally makes writing these so much easier and faster

requests? 🥺🤲

“He is, most of all, l'amor che move il sole e l'altre stelle.” — Yandere! Theodore Nott x Animagus! Sirius’ son! Reader x Yandere! Mattheo Riddle

warnings: very mild—mostly implied—yandere possessive/violent stuff

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

“Ah, Mr. Black. Lovely for you to join us.”

You cringed, hastily smoothing down your hair in an attempt to look like you hadn’t just woken up.

Snape gave you a stern look. “Very well. Now that you’ve elected to make your presence, perhaps Mr. Black can tell us what asphodel is?”

You flushed at the way your professor put you on the spot; the way all of your classmate's eyes were on you.

“U-uh, it’s a flower. It’s supposed to grow in the Elysian fields in the Greek underworld…?” You trailed off uncertainly.

Snape’s lips thinned, a sign that you were correct. “We have a new seating chart—a fact you might’ve known if you’d shown up on time. Over there. Quickly.”

You scurried over to the table he indicated, sitting down in the empty chair between two Slytherin boys.

The boy on your right gave you a sympathetic look, waiting until Snape turned to continue writing on the board before leaning over and whispering to you.

“We’re doing a project in pairs, but me an’ my friend Theo here said we’d add you in ours to make a group of three. Snape wanted you to work with Longbottom.”

The boy on your left—Theo, you presumed—leaned in to whisper, “Yeah, we wouldn’t wish that upon anyone. ‘specially not a pretty thing like you.”

You blushed at the flattering name, whispering back, “Longbottom? Merlin- thank you.”

He grinned brightly, seemingly pleased at your willingness to hold a conversation with him, if the gentle flush of his cheeks was any indication.

The boy on your right tugged at your sleeve with a charming smile. “That’s Theodore Nott, by the way. And I’m Mattheo Riddle, darlin’.”

~~~

“Well, I think we’re just about finished,” Theodore mused, sitting up from where he’d been leaning over your group’s poster board. “Think we used enough glitter?”

“No such thing as enough glitter.”

You laughed at the two boys’ antics as the three of you sat on the floor of their dorm room. They had a good rapport with each other, one that you fit easily into. There was no real awkwardness as you all joked with each other. You actually felt like you belonged, like you’d been a part of their pair for years.

It was a nice thought.

“Well, if we’re finished, then I desperately need to go to the library,” you sighed. “Flitwick assigned twenty inches on the difference between the Conservo and the Protego charms.”

The two groaned in sympathy.

“Good luck,” Mattheo shook his head, resting his hand on your knee.

You’d noticed that both boys were extremely touchy. They always seemed to be accidentally brushing hands with you, peering over your shoulder to look at the poster, and finding any excuse to rest their hands somewhere on your body.

You nodded your thanks, putting away your personal reading book, your glitter quills, and your googly eye stickers that you as a group had had far too much fun with.

“See you guys around!”

~~~

“Woah- Here, kitty kitty kitty!”

You blinked sleepily, annoyed at whomever was disrupting your nap by the warm common room fireplace.

Two blurry, vaguely boy-shaped blobs plopped down on the floor by you, one of the blobs’ bags spilling out its contents all over the floor. You swatted lazily at a feather quill that rolled to a stop beside you on the rug, quickly losing interest and yawning.

“Whose cat is this?” The shorter one—the one whose bag had dumped parchment and jellybeans all over the floor—asked, suddenly scratching the top of your head.

You froze, an unfamiliar rumble rising from your throat at the odd sensation.

You were purring.

If you were human right now, you were sure your skin would be prickling from the stranger’s gentle touch.

Gentle touch had always been uncommon for you. Your family was odd and disjointed. You grew up without a father, raised only by grumpy paintings and a sour house elf.

And once he returned, on a the back of a winged marvel, with stories of rats and traitors and time, his overjoyed smile had faltered when he learned you wore green and not red. His now ever-present pinched look of poorly hidden disappointment whenever he looked at you, paired with your god-cousin’s short and stiff hugs and forced smiles, you felt like an outsider in your own home.

“Virgil!”

The strangers startled you out of your reverie. Your ears flattened back, but the taller one just pet your head softly. The short one crossed its arms, shaking its head vehemently.

“No, dude. Why the fuck would you name our cat that?”

“Cause of the book? Dante’s Inferno?” The taller one pointed at one of your abandoned books lying on the rug, most of the stack on Charms subjects, except for that one. You must’ve fallen asleep while reading it, and changed into a cat at some point during your nap.

“Nerd.”

“Just because you don’t ever read, Riddle-”

You perked up at the familiar name. Blinking away sleep, the two blobs- boys come into better focus.

They’re your fucking group mates.

Fucking Circe.

Theo goes back to petting your head, his steady pets prompting you to instinctively push your head up against his palm to demand more.

“Oh- hi Vee,” he laughed, moving his hand further down to stroke along your spine.

“Wh- We’re not calling it that.”

~~~

They ended up calling you that.

They visited the library after school every day now, where sure enough, you’d always be sitting by the fire or sprawled out on the couch.

Some days, they brought extra friends. On those days, you’d always squawk and wind between your boys’ ankles to get their attention when they got too engrossed in a conversation, like an adorable, jealous tripping hazard.

And after you’d turned in your project, you had also remained friends with them as a human. You now lit up every time you saw them in the halls or the common room, and they always grinned whenever they saw you.

It was nice.

~~~ “Hel- oh.”

You watched as your History of Magic table mate, a usually kind and friendly Hufflepuff girl, scrambled out of her seat to sit elsewhere as soon as you set your bag down. You stared after her in shock.

What had you done to warrant that?

As you stared after her, you finally became aware that your classmates around you were staring at you with a mixture of curiosity and fear.

Everyone avoided the seat next to you like the plague.

You sat alone that class.

~~~

You set your textbook down on your desk, sitting down heavily in your chair.

Today had been awful. Nobody dared come near you in any of your classes, like you were a leper or something. You ate lunch alone, walked to class alone… you just hoped Potions, as your last class of the day, would pass quickly.

“Hello, lovely,” Mattheo greeted warmly, the corners of his eyes crinkling up as he sat down beside you—the first person to do so all day. “How are you this fine afternoon?”

You rolled your eyes grumpily, steadfastly ignoring him as you doodled on your parchment.

You suddenly felt fingers underneath your chin, lifting your head up until your eyes met Mattheo’s.

“He asked you a question, doll,” Theodore breathed into your ear from behind you. “Answer.”

You shivered at his tone and firm behavior, blushing despite yourself. “‘m- ‘m fine.”

“Good boy,” Mattheo sighed, patting your cheek patronizingly. “Was that really so hard?”

Your cheeks flush immediately at the name, as you remain a bit confused as to their sudden changes in personality.

Where were the lovably awkward pair of dorks that you usually hung out with, both as a human and as a cat? (Although, you supposed, they didn’t know about the latter.)

Maybe you were wrong about them?

~~~

You weren’t wrong about them.

You leaned against the side of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, watching interesting passerby on the street as you waited for your god-cousin, Harry, to return back outside.

You were so focused on people-watching, imagining backstories for everyone, (especially the creepy Gryffindor who liked to hit on you no matter how many times you said no: Cormac McLaggen. The boy had practically sprinted away as soon as he caught sight of you leaning against the wall. Odd that he also had a black eye and a busted nose) that you were completely startled by arms wrapping around you from behind.

You jumped, but relaxed a bit when they put their chin on your shoulder and whispered into your ear, “It’s Mattheo, doll. Calm down.”

“You just scared the shit outta me. Tellin’ me to calm down,” you roll your eyes. “What do you want?”

“Go out with me.”

“What?”

“M-me. And Theo. Both. Yeah?”

“Wow. Smooth, dude. Real master of words, aren’t you?” A new voice chimed in sarcastically.

You spun around at the arrival of a second person, relaxing when you saw that it was just Theo.

“What Matty is trying to ask is, will you go out with us?”

You gape at them.

“Both of you?”

“Ideally, yes.”

You blink at them, eyes wide.

Mattheo shifts nervously.

“Sure.”

Theodore blinks, like he wasn’t expecting that answer. “Sure? Like- like yes you will?”

“Yeah.”

The two boys exchange a rather disbelieving, giddy look.

“Uh, how does the Three Broomsticks at seven tonight sound?”

“Works for me,” you shrug, a pleased smile slowly creeping onto your face.

“Oh! Here. We- we got this for you. In case you said yes,” Mattheo digs through his pockets, pulling out a small, rectangular box, like the kind that watches come in. “But, you have to promise you’ll wait to get back to your dorm room before you open it.”

You laugh, shrugging. “Okay, sure. I promise.”

Theo narrows his eyes at you before sticking out his pinky finger. “Pinky promise?”

You laugh again at the way his serious look contrasts with his childish request, obliging and wrapping your pinky around his. “Pinky promise.”

~~~

You shut your dorm door behind you, dropping your bag on the floor and collapsing onto your bed. You, true to your word, waited to open the box, pulling it out of your pocket only just now.

It was small, simple gift box, with a scrap of folded parchment taped to the top.

Y/N –

Thought you might like this. We’d love to see you wear it on our date.

– MR & TN

You raise your eyebrows, setting the note aside and lifting the lid, unsure of what to expect.

You were not expecting there to be a blue cat collar inside, the dangling metal tag reading:

Virgil

If lost, return to either

Theo Nott or Mattheo Riddle

[justuraverageweirdo]

God au critters 2/4

Fun facts about these two are under the cut!

Hoppy Hopscotch

Hoppy is the goddess of the sky, the winds, storms, and the brutality of war.

She has the ability to harness green lightning and make huge attacks with it. She can be very dangerous (and reckless), and is second to DogDay on the most powerful list.

She’s a very aggressive fighter, and has trouble with her temper sometimes. She gets really bad mood swings 💀

She normally fights with her feet. Girly will literally jump backwards into a handstand and kick you in the face.

She may or may not be slowly developing feelings for Bobby. She doesn’t think she is though. According to her, she is feeling very strong friendship feelings and it is not a crush nope not at all (it is. She’s really down bad for Bobby. I don’t even know how Bobby doesn’t notice it because everyone else has)

Her and Bubba are the war gods of the group, so that means they often get paired together to work on stuff. However the problem is that they get so pissed at each other. Bubba wants to plan for a million different scenarios on how they can win a fight, and Hoppy just wants to charge in headfirst and fight stuff. They…uh…don’t get along very well, let’s just say that

Picky Piggy

Picky is the god of the earth, feasting, farming, and the harvest.

Crafty and Picky are very close friends. Crafty sees Picky’s cooking as another way of her creating art, and appreciates her for it. They vent to each other a lot.

Picky tends to be very uhh…well she’s very sweet, but my god she can be stupid sometimes. She’s a little bit air headed. It’s okay though, she’s a loveable dork.

She also tends to be oblivious to the mortals and their needs. She often ends up ignoring them, or kind of forgetting they exist. DogDay has had to remind her at least several times that harvest season is approaching, and she needs to start blooming flowers.

Think of her powers kind of like earth bending from avatar in a way. She can literally summon rocks from the ground and chuck them at people. She also has the power to grow plants. She is the one who leads the yearly Blossoming festival at the beginning of the harvest season. Farmers tend to sacrifice animals at her temple for hopes of a plentiful harvest.

So yeah, that’s really it. Bobby and Crafty are next! Crafty is already ready, but Bobby really needs some major tweaks in her design. Regardless, they’ll be posted soon!

God au critters 1/4 link

[bblueraven-and-fandoms14]

Controversial take the AA and Narumitsu fandom are going to flame my ass whatever but as an avid Narumitsu shipper and Miles Edgeworth fan (he's my #1 favorite character of the franchise) I love bastard Phoenix but in the specific flavor of him cheating on Miles with Kristoph during the 7yg. Like. Because tbh Phoenix gets attached and loves (obsseses) over people so readily and easily that once he has very little to loose he decides to try and keep what he does have and he wants both. Why CAN'T he have both he wants both. Is it fair to Miles AND to Kristoph? No but life hasn't been fair to HIM either and it's selfish and he's a horrible partner, he feels guilty so so much, but he can't stop, he can't let go of either because he wants BOTH. He clings to both and refuses to let go. He has so much to give why can't he take a bit, too. Why can't he have them both!!!! Miles is his past and Kristoph could be part of his present and he refuses to let go of any of it. Then he fully learns was Kristoph is doing and plays the game and continues because, yeah he'll bring Kristoph down but he still wants both, even if it's not good for him. So he'll keep both as long as he can. Even if he's going to destroy one of them in the end. Once again life is not being fair and this must be Karma, for trying to grab too much, trying to hold too much in his hands. So if it's going to be over and by his own hands, he will keep indulging as long as he can.

Extra points Kristoph absolutely knows and seethes everytime Miles visits because Phoenix goes away during that time even though he ends up back with him once Miles leaves and why is Kristoph once again coming second? He hates Mile's ass (but he wonders what it is about that man. He is curious, in a morbid way. He wants a taste himself, just to see what of Miles is so good that Phoenix can't stop himself from eating from it even now).

Miles doesn't know at first but he starts suspecting and then he learns about it but he... doesn't say anything. He's a self respecting man, he SHOULD say something for his own self at the least but he. He thinks of everything that has happened. He sees how defeated Phoenix is. He remembers being defeted himself. He remembers he owes Phoenix half his life, really. He is so attached himself, and what would he do without Phoenix in his life? So he decides its fine, isn't it? Because it's partially Miles fault, too. He's not There. He's away too much, all the time, during Phoenix's time of need. And Phoenix is just a man. Just like him. And he wonders. He wishes he knew Kristoph more, and he's jealous and angry at him because Kristoph is dignified and not a bit weird in his likes and idiosyncrasies and perhaps that's the appeal, someone who isn't a bit odd and who is actually there. He remembers that one date he's ever been to, back in highschool. He remembers trying so hard to be likable. He remembers failing at it. He sees how easy it is for Kristoph to do what he couldn't and still can't. And he wonders how it is to taste that in a partner.

Anyways in the end I think they should all kiss idk 🧍🏻‍♀️ (there are two specific things I have consumed in this fandom that have built my hc's for Krisnix, Nrmts, and narumitskris during the 7yr gap and the fic specifically is /it/ like that's lowkey canon to me with some tweaks to fit canon timeline and events and characters).

*coughs* I rambled I just think all 3 could have the most interesting dynamic known to man YES including Miles/Kristoph can you imagine the chaos of that? It's Phoenix's worst and best dream come to life. I think Miles/Kristoph is supremely underrated actually. I think they should all fuck nasty and hate-filled. Thank you for coming to my....uh. Insanity.

(I also love the idea of Miles and Kristoph cat fighting over a man who CHEATS like girls get up omg [all 3 are deranged])

[authoreetea]

𝐭𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 (pt. 2)

pairing ; rafe cameron x reader

summary ; you come back to the obx three years later for a work thing, and rafe is adamant on trying to get you back. it's the christmas season 🫣

warnings ; i don't know 😭 THIS IS MY LONGEST WORK EVER? feminine terms maybe. reader is a fashion designer and probs ooc rafe

note! it's december, once again, so i thought why not give losing you a happy ending. part two! I'm in my christmas feels, ill make a part three. you can kinda end it at the first part but christmas feels gets me wanting happy endings so here i am 🫣

p1

Being back at Outer Banks after three years brings back the good and bad memories. It wasn't just a stroll down memory lane; it was a strong plunge into the depths of shared history. The salt air greeted me, it carried whispers of laughter and echoes of heartache.

My return wasnt purely for nostalgia, I had to be here on a work obligation. One of my clients live here, and apparently needed me here for the whole december.

Figure Eight was decorated with festive christmas lights, the holiday spirit clashing with my uncertainty that lingers in the air. I've debated with myself over and over again, that going back was a bad idea, yet I can't turn down my clients.

Unfortunately, the only hotel by figure eight is fully booked and I have nowhere else left to stay. I thought about Rafe's sister, Sarah, but I don't even know where she is now. We've fallen apart since then and I don't know anyone here, but him.

Taking a deep breath, I swallow my pride and went to the Cameron estate. I repeat 'it's for work' in my head as if it's a mantra.

The place I used to call home, the place where Rafe and I share all kinds of memories. It looked sad, it was the only house around the neighborhood that had no christmas decorations, yet it was still clean.

I compose myself, and knocked on the door three times. I hear shuffling and a slightly muffled "hold on" from the inside. I can recognize his voice anywhere, I only now felt the anxiety rushing back to me.

He opened the door, his hair damp and messy. He was in a navy blue polo shirt, with black shorts and his scent wrapped around me. Rafe smelled fresh and citrusy, my body felt comfort and resentment at the same time.

I muster up a small smile, you can barely even see it. Rafe looks shocked, his eyes were wide and his mouth slightly agape. Time had etched its mark on his face, a complex canvas of emotions hidden behind those familiar blue eyes. "You're back," he stated, his voice a mixture of surprise and a vulnerability he couldn't quite conceal. He looked as if he just saw a ghost.

I give him a curt nod. "Yes, for a work thing. The only hotel near here is fully booked, and this was the only place I could think of. I can find something else, if you mind."

Rafe shook his head and opened the door wider. "You can stay, it's just me, anyway." He said, the shock still evident in his voice. I gave him a quiet thank you, smiling at him as I walked in.

The inside felt cold, the ghost of our past danced around every corner of this place. It looked fine, it was obvious Rafe re-decorated and made it more- him.

"Thank you, really, for letting me stay. I didn't know figure eight was such a tourist spot at Christmas." I said, a slight hint of humor in my tone in attempt to lighten up the mood.

He gives a half-hearted chuckle, yet I could sense his guarded demeanor. "Uh, yeah. Ever since I finally took over, I made a few tweaks and this place became a tourist attraction." He said, scratching the back of his neck.

God, he looked so good.

I smile, trying to contain my thoughts. "You're doing really well, Rafe."

He smiles and thanks me. "Anyway, I have to excuse myself. You can take Sarah's old room for the time, you know where it is." He says, grabbing his keys, wallet, and phone, before walking to the door.

"I'm glad you're back, y/n." And with that, he left.

I felt my cheeks getting warm and I sure as hell looked red as a tomato. I think I'm gonna be sick, He looks so good and it's so hard not to miss him. In those three long years, all I could think about was if he was doing well. And I'm glad that he is.

--

Over days that blurred into nights, work obligations mingled with the tentative reconnection between us. Small talk and shared glances became the thread by which we delicately wove our way through unresolved emotions. Rafe's eyes held an unspoken plea, a desire to mend what had been broken.

It has been 14 days since I've been back, and it was already starting to get cold, only 10 days away from christmas. It was midnight at the Cameron estate as I went down to the kitchen to make some hot cocoa. I've been working all day figuring out new designs for this "gala" thing my client is asking for.

I prepared my ingredients, reaching for a mug when I was interrupted by a deep "Hey" from Rafe.

I gasped and held onto my chest. "Jesus, Rafe, don't sneak up on me like that!"

He smiles sheepishly, and mutters a soft sorry. "Sorry, can't sleep. What are you making?"

"Hot cocoa, you want one?"

He replies "sure" and sat by the kitchen island. It's been like this lately, small conversations with tension lingering in the air. It felt like something heavy was being put above our heads, threatening to fall down in a second.

Rafe looks deep in thought as I made his cocoa and mine. His eyebrows always go upward when he's thinking and he gets fidgety with his hands. Until today, I have all his mannerisms memorized. He wasn't someone I could ever forget.

"Y/n, look. I owe you an apology." He says, quietly as he still fidgets with his heirloom ring. His blue eyes carried a mix of regret and sincerity. "You didn't deserve that. My fear pushed away the one thing that mattered the most."

My heart ached, I felt like it was beating a thousand times a minute. "Rafe-" I started, yet he cuts me off

"I wasn't done, sorry. I just want you to hear me first." He says, giving me a pleading smile. I whisper an okay and handed him my special cocoa.

"I knew I would mess it up. Hell, I feel like I really messed up back then. Fear took over me and I thought that it would protect you, but it only hurt you. " He said, his gaze switching from me and the old christmas mugs I bought that he still kept.

"Rafe, it's in the past. We've both grown up and I forgive you, I can never stay mad at you forever." I say, giving him a warm smile and held his hand for a second. He eyed my hand before giving me a half hearted smile.

"In the three years I was alone, I had time to reflect and I realized that some risks are worth taking. " He pauses, standing up next to me.

Rafe was tall, and he towered over me. "I'm sorry for not giving you what you deserved, for being to scared to accept the love you had to offer." He admitted, his blue eyes finally meeting mine. We were less than a meter away and I could basically feel his warmth radiating off of him. and his scent engulfed me like a hug.

"I want to show you I've changed, y/n. I'm willing to do anything, an whatever it takes, to make it right with us." He says, his hand reaching for mine and immediately met warmth. "Come home to me, y/n."

His apology hung in the air, and I stared at him, blinking. I was shocked at how he expressed his feelings, it wasn't something he was open about before and maybe now, he's really doing better.

"Rafe, I accept your apology. But you really did hurt me rafe, and it's gonna take a lot more than this for me to come home. " I say, giving him a tight lipped smile.

What surprised me was the smirk on his face as he looked at me.

"I understand." He says, a smile on his face before getting closer to me. I felt my blood rush to my cheeks at our closeness. The mood definitely changed from emotional to frisky really quick.

"There's ten days left before Christmas, think I can win you back by then?" he says proudly, smirking at me as he maintains eye contact.

I chuckle, "Sure preppy boy. I'd like to see you try."

[anime-owo-kage-san]

Huskerdust & Crymini Family scenarios I imagined out of boredom:

(Some of these are just dialogues from shows that I tweaked to fit the characters’ personalities)

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

(Angel was worried for Crymini, but he didn’t want to keep hovering over her. So, he decided to just go to a club with her and stay far away, so she doesn’t feel suffocated. But, he ended up approaching her and stepping in anyway when a 10 foot shark creep, kept hitting on her. After punching him unconscious, Crymini, who was actually uncomfortable the whole night, drags Angel outside of the club to talk.)

*Now sitting outside the club*

Crymini: “Look… Angel. Don’t take this the wrong way but… I kinda don’t want you to be my friend…”

Angel: “….”

Angel: “Uh yeah, Mini. How the fuck else am I supposed to take that BUT the wrong way?”

Crymini: “No! I don’t mean it like that! You’re a total badass! I love that about you but….. Back ‘topside’… My dad wasn’t around, but I had my mom with me, who was really young…. She doesn’t really act like a mom. More like, an annoyed older sister forced to babysit, and let’s me do anything as long as I leave her alone.”

Crymini: *hugs her knees* “When I got older, I started going out to late night parties, drinking, skipping school and trashing neighborhoods… Still, she didn’t really care. I don’t even know if she’s aware I’m down here now. So… what I’m trying to say is…”

Angel: “Rather than a ‘friend’, you want someone to give you advice on what could be better for you? And preferably it’s someone who you know, experienced shit worse than you? You need someone who can tell you not to make the same mistakes they did?”

Crymini: *nods her head* “Yeah… Sorry.”

Angel: *holds her shoulder* “Don’t be.”

Angel: “Now… If that’s the case, then listen to me when I tell you this, toots. Please don’t go back in there. I know you can handle yourself, but that don’t mean you have to be in the same place as that fucker. Let’s go back to the hotel?”

Crymini: *smiles, then gets up to pat her clothes down* “Yeah. Let’s go. This club was shit anyway. And the food…. Speaking of, can you cook? Husk’s food has no taste at all, and I don’t want to eat anything from that smiley freak.”

Angel: “Sure thing, sugah. White sauce pasta?”

Crymini: “Sounds good.”

.•.•.

(Crymini invites a guy over at the hotel, finding him cool at first. But, when she leaves the room to get some snacks and comes back the guy turned out to be a creep trying to get in her pants. He starts chasing her around the hotel all the way back downstairs.)

Crymini: “Gross! Get the fuck away from me!”

Guy: *continues to aggressively chase her around*

Husk: *just walked through the door, back from buying fruits for his cocktail drinks, and sees the commotion.*

Husk: *races his way in between them and separates them with his wings*

Husk: “The fuck is going on in here!?”

Guy: *freezes in place* “… Uh—“

Crymini: *points at him while hiding behind the wing* “HE tried to put his lips on my face!”

Husk: *whips his head towards him* “Her face!?”

Guy: “Hang on now—Ow! Ow! Ow!”

Husk: *pins his arm behind his back and leads him out the front door* “Well, Mr. I don’t give a flying fuck who you are, it was nice having you over. But, it’s getting late, so I think you should see yourself out, excuse my foot”—*kicks him in the back, out the door.*

Husk: *slams the door shut and locks it*

Guy: *knocks rapidly* “Hey wait! I think I dropped my phone in there!”

Husk: *looks in the middle of the room and sees a hellphone on the floor*

Husk: “Yeah, just a second.” *walks out the room and comes back in with a meat tenderizer*

Husk: “Here it is. I found it.” *smashes the phone into bits, then picks it up*

Husk: *walks back to the front door and opens it*

Husk: “Oh no, sorry kid. Looks like your phone case wasn’t effective.” *dumps the phone shards into the guy’s hand, and slams it shut again, before he could say anything*

.•.•.

Angel: “You know, Mini…. You’re the only person that ever got me to actually feel my 30’s.”

Husk: “My back magically fixed itself, from the amount of times I had to run or fly over to wherever the shit you got yourself into is.”

Crymini: “You’re welcome then. Thanks to me, you’re either maturing or your bodies are reverting to your youthful years. Aren’t those redeeming qualities?”

Husk: “Well, if you’re interested in having ‘redeeming qualities’, why don’t I tell the princess you’re ready to join in on tomorrow’s activity.”

Angel: “Yeah~! We might become partners for a teamwork thing, Mini!”

Crymini: “What!? Nooo! Come on! Don’t!”

.•.•.

(Crymini, when she was younger and alive, created imaginary pseudo-parents, to help her get by, and pretend everything is okay. Sometimes even in hell, she pretends too, but it’s not frequent anymore. Although, everyone in the hotel knows about it, because of the awkward moments where Crymini wouldn’t let anyone sit on the chair or space next to her because she says her parents are sitting right there.)—(personal headcanon created because of the plush toy boyfriend thing Crymini might have.)

Crymini: “Hey, Charlie… Can I tell you something?”

Charlie: “Of course, Crymini. What’s on your mind?”

Crymini: “I told you about my pseudo-parents, right? And how they listen to me whenever I can’t take it anymore living with my mom… How they make me feel like I’m not alone…”

Charlie: “Yes. I remember.”

Crymini: “I know those two aren’t really my parents, but they’re the best thing that ever came to my life. I don’t want them to disappear because I did something wrong. If I…. go back to being a reckless bitch…”

Charlie: “Oh, Crymini.” *puts a hand on her shoulder for comfort* “That won’t happen. Those two love you, no matter what you do. They won’t just disappear, when you fall back to old habits. They’d stay and help, because they want you to be a better person for yourself.”

Crymini: *feels better, but looks away awkwardly*

Crymini: “…. I was… talking about Angel and Husk.”

Charlie: “So was I.”

[ronearoundblindly]

Eighty-Three Kisses

CEO!Steve Rogers x CEO!Reader

an It Had To Be You tale of tender first aid requested by @anika-ann who thought: I'm not sure why but my heart would MELT upon seeing Steve giving Precious some ⛑ (as such, warning for mentions of blood) WC 1.3k

Not your favorite way to wake up…

Roused in the morning dark of New York winter, Steve’s mom calls him bright and early. She is one of only four people who can evade his Do Not Disturb setting, and as much as you enjoy Sarah, you groan in irritation when Steve has to untuck himself from beneath you in the sheets.

But that’s not where it ends.

He takes the call and walks out to his kitchen. His voice only just becomes inaudible when your mother calls.

Chatty. Mom is chatty way too early this morning, and she wants participation in her gossip.

You get it; your parents are pure balls of excitement about their upcoming trip to NYC to see you and officially meet your boyfriend for the first time, but 6:50 in the morning on a day off is not a great moment to get reciprocation of any amount of energy.

It’s not even five in the morning where your mom is. Come on now.

You hold the phone arm’s length away to scream into your pillow before heaving yourself out of bed. Maybe if she hears Steve’s voice in the background, your mom will think you’re busy and need to get off the call? Maybe standing up will help keep your eyelids raised? You’re so tired, you’ll try anything.

As soon as your butt hits the couch cushion though, your eyes shut again, too comfortable, too quickly. You jump up and meander over to the exercise bike, muttering something about the neighbor Mom’s had this same beef with for a decade, but she’s on a roll now. You barely need to interject an “uh-huh” or “yeah.” Your mother just keeps going.

So you sit on the bike, lazily putting one foot on the higher pedal, and you nudge it. Nothing happens.

Steve rustles the coffee beans into the maker and pulls down plates because if he’s awake, he wants breakfast. He’ll go back to sleep if he can, but if he’s conscious, food should happen. That’s the Steve Standard of a morning ritual. He also has very little input for his conversation, mostly humming every so often.

You hear the crack of eggs against the bowl’s rim and yawn, hiding that sound as best you can from your mother.

Your dad is equally grumbly in the background. He chides his wife with you in solidarity.

The pan sizzling acts as white noise countered by the first whiffs of brewing coffee.

“Of course, I’m listening,” you rush out, leaning forward on the handlebars and mock-bashing your head.

Steve must have turned to watch you because you hear his deep chuckle from across the room.

Absently, you step onto the pedal, thinking it will start rotating as you press down. You don’t realize how high Steve has turned up the resistance until it’s too late. You stand with your full weight on the tiny, shifting pad, and your foot slips right off when the mechanism caves.

Off-balance and crash-landing on your foot, your ankle tweaks out harshly, and the hard plastic grooves for friction scrape all along your bare calf. It hurts like hell but happens so fast that you hardly make a sound aside from hissing.

The phone drops out of your hand as you untangle yourself from the bike and trip down to the floor.

“Honey?” Steve clearly hasn’t seen until “shit” and you hear the pan torn off the burner and his own phone tossed to the counter. “Precious, you okay? What—“

Thin gashes are already red and bleeding all up your leg. The pain is such a tense sting that you can’t manage much else other than biting your tongue and clutching at the wound, but Steve peels your fingers away, ripping the kitchen towel from over his shoulder to apply pressure.

“It’s fine,” you still hiss. “I’m fine, Steve.”

His huge palm and fingers splay across the fabric, his other hand guiding your over to replace them after he coos, “I know. I’m just gonna clean it up. I’ll be right back. Can you hold this? Just there. Good girl. Ok.”

He jumps up and thunders to the bathroom.

“Sweetheart, what’s going on? Hello?”

You look up to where your phone dangles in the water bottle holder by the bike’s handles, but you can’t reach it without harsh sensations shooting around your foot and leg.

“I’m fine, Mom,” you yell toward the phone. “I just fell. I’ll call you back later.”

There’s an incoherent fuss, your dad’s voice joins what sounds like muttering but is more likely a heated argument on the other end, and then the screen lights when the call disconnects.

Steve returns with a little box and a white bottle.

“Ok, precious--" he leans to kiss your knee "--you ready? This part is gonna hurt.”

You pull back the stained towel, lip lodged between your teeth, and Steve soaks a cotton ball. He bares his teeth when you react to the bite of alcohol.

The excess drips down to the mat.

“I know, honey. You’re doing so good though. Just a little more." He tries to move the foot. "Can you—“

“OW!” Like a shot, your ankle cries all the way up to your hip. “Sorry,” you say through threatening tears, “I landed on it wrong.”

Steve’s hand cradles the joint, keeping it still even as he lowers to kiss there, too, his blue eyes worried. “Okay, I’ll get ice for that, but first, we cover this.” He wipes gently at the deepest gash by your Achilles tendon before ripping open a packet of antibacterial ointment. “Just another minute, alright? You’re doing great.”

His rough morning voice and soothing tenor nudge your heart rate back in the right direction.

At least the medication doesn’t hurt. Between treatment and bandaging, he lifts your wrist to his lips and plants a double tap of encouragement.

"So good," he rumbles.

Steve carefully unfolds and layers some gauze across the whole area and carefully tapes the edges. On instinct, you bend your knee to get yourself up, but the tape pops right off when you flex.

“Uh-uh, precious. You’re not doing anything until we get some ice on that.”

You think he means to leave you sitting on the ground, but Steve pivots to a squatting position, tucks his arms beneath your knees and around your waist, and lifts you straight into the air, kissing your cheek for good measure.

Well…all that gym equipment’s been good for something…

He carries you all the way back to the bed, kissing your forehead to force you to relax backward and excusing himself to the kitchen again. A few drawers open and shut. There’s a racket of ice clattering into a bag.

Another light scuttering noise.

“Ma, I gotta go. Yeah, I love ya. Okay, bye.” He rounds the doorway again, compress and coffee at the ready.

Steve wraps a fresh towel over your skin before arranging the ice to lay just right, covering as much curve as possible without too much pressure. By the time he’s satisfied, he’s created a majestic-looking nest of sheets and blanket around your foot.

You chuckle as you blow across the hot liquid in your toasty mug.

This is his near-military precision and focus again, except this time, you are the mission.

Finally, his equally warm gaze meets yours, dawn breaking outside the wall of windows surrounding the corner room.

“Want your phone back?” he asks softly.

You shake your head. “They can wait.”

Everything still aches, the dull throb seeming miles away when Steve grips your thigh before straightening.

“You know, precious, if you wanted breakfast in bed, you could have just asked.”

You shrug, a little embarrassed but very appreciative. This certainly hasn’t been your favorite way to wake up, but it’s not the worst either. Plus, the morning has just begun.

“Sometimes the only thing that gets your attention is a crisis, Captain.”

from this game of "Comfort My Characters"

Thank you for asking!

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