#this sorta turned into writing instead of just me telling you about this but i dont mind

[totentnz]

v staring at her reflection for a bit too long and johnny pops in, doesnt say anything but is clearly annoyed "i wanna dye my hair black" she finally says without looking at him "since we met you had orange, purple, pink and green hair but black worries you?" he retorts almost pissed off that she would stress about something so mundane. she wants to explain to him that what she worries about isnt the colour in itself, its the possibility that its not her desire but his. instead she opens the cupboard beneath the sink and pulls out the dye and tools, reassuring herself that it doesnt matter why she wants this, what matters is that she does.

[satoruhour]

i need jealous racer geto hes js so whudurieiw and the way u write about himm🤭🤭

LUVRGIRL

a/n: eeuuughh idk whether to like this or not but enjoy nonetheless !!! not so much of racing but the sentiment is there lol. previous part (lloromannic) here / @screampied @kizoken @t4kio @redskyvenus @mysugu @suguruplsr @slttygeto ✶

wc: 6.3k

warnings: racer!geto, soft dom!geto, fem!reader, sprinkle of fluff, pet names, praise, ldr, phone sex, masturbation (both f and m), fantasising, daisuke is being annoying again!!!!, sorta jealousy plot point, brief dry humping, oral (f! receiving) / cunnilingus, clit stimulation, fingering, unprotected p -> v sex, breeding / creampie kink, implied multiple rounds, n*sfw under the cut

the next six months were torture, indefinitely. it was an endless heap of assignments, of deadlines, of long-distance calls with your love that you both were so close to booking flights of your own. university was brutal, too. on top of tuition fees and getting the materials for your classes, it was heart-wrenching to even look at the prices of the flights from your country to japan, so you bit down your pride and subjected yourself to settling for the long-distance arrangement.

“hey, baby,” geto mumbles sleepily and your frown deepens upon forgetting that tuesdays was where he slept early. you still had to call, though, but you realise it too late when he answers with that groggy, raspy voice of his. there’s some ruffling behind the call, no doubt the sounds of his bedsheets as he gets himself comfortable while you huddle at the small nook of your room that’s next to the window.

from here you can see the sun setting, a totally different story in japan where you can hear geto yawn and down a glass of water next to his bed.

“shit . . sorry su, i forgot—”

he scrambles to reassure you, awake and sat up, “no! no— no, it’s okay . .” you wince when you hear him yawn yet again, but this time he sounds a little more in the realm of consciousness. you’re unaware of the smile forming on his face just from hearing your voice, fidgety fingers squeezing and releasing the duvet over him, “what are you up to, my love?”

you hum into the phone and you’ve never wanted to backpack across the seven seas to see someone so bad before. now on month nine, your excitement’s become even more prominent at wanting to end the semester as soon as possible, willing your lips not to mutter out the arrangement you’ve been planning with his group of friends.

“just needed a break from studying for finals. i’m dying,” you lament over the line and your heart flutters at his chuckle, something you miss against your ears and skin immensely, “just wish you were here . .”

“yeah?” and you have to squeeze your eyes shut and rub your thighs together at the soft, rough yeah he mumbles out. you can imagine it too: sitting against his headboard half-naked while the duvet pools around his waist area. he’s sitting there like plaster sculpted by Monti while his hair flows around him. you almost squeal and your boyfriend only catches just the start of it.

“what? what was that?” he asks and your hand is clasped so hard over your mouth like a captor’s got your hostage, but you only let out a breath.

“n-nothing,” you laugh, picking yourself up from the nook and getting yourself comfortable in bed. it’s been a long day of studying, anyway, and your next exam isn’t until five days later. you could afford some downtime, right?

“but,” you sigh, turning on your side and sneakily slipping a hand into your pants, “my day’s boring. it’s all studyin’. why don’t you tell me what you did today, instead?” you can hear your parents already preparing dinner outside, but you press on and try to drain out the intrusive noises of cutlery and porcelain and the incessant calls of your mom to your dad for some help on the stove. 

“alright,” he drags the word out and laughs again, getting comfortable in his bed just like you do, but your end goals are entirely different, “but it is pretty boring as well. it was maintenance day today.”

“oh!” you remember him briefly mentioning that the other day — since halloween was approaching, there was bound to be more patrolling policemen around the streets and underground, so races had to be put on hold for the meantime. there was still other more secluded areas to race, but geto didn’t want to risk his Mazda being taken away nor for a stain to appear on his clean academic record.

“changing the crankshaft? i know the old one was giving you loads of trouble,” you mumble, feeling your cunt pulse and throb from the breathing you can hear over the line, “among . . other things.”

“yeah, my baby’s so smart for remembering, huh?” he praises, continuing to go on about his day. while it was merely taking-care-of-his-car day, it was still way more eventful than yours. he had went on a solo day out to your beloved café to relish in the good times, he had hung out with gojo for a while and drank some beer atop the mountain they frequented, even went out for some arcade fun.

“unfortunately—” geto’s low voice spurs you on. you’ve been lazily rubbing at your pussy, just humming into the phone while you only descend more and more into pleasure, “it’s taken a hole out of my allowance, i guess. my dad’s more generous with the parts that he gives me but at the same time i feel like he knows what i’m doing underground.”

he laughs and you fake a giggle, but your breaths are starting to get heavier with each sentence he utters, mind filling with flashbacks of how many ways he’s bent you over to fuck you, drunk on the phantom-like winds upon your ear that sound like he’s whispering all those filthy things to you. “and . . just missin’ my girl.”

“how’ve you been, baby?” he asks with a low voice, like he knows what you’re doing and the term of possession only has you sucking in a breath, fingers slip inside you after possibly a decade of teasing and you find it hard to answer. “darling?”

“y-yeah, ’m still here,” you pant out, afraid of being caught, but your voice quivers enough just for geto to catch on to what you were up to. he didn’t fault you, though (he never blames his girl), but there is a small smirk that forms on his face. he purposely lowers his voice even more, if it was possible, mirroring and mimicking your breathy tone when talking to him.

but with one hand that goes down to his pelvis, he doesn’t have to mimic you at all, hand palming languidly at his bulge. in the dead of the night, there wasn’t much need to keep his voice down in order to hear the pretty moans falling from your mouth; he does anyway.

it’s too shitty of a reception especially with your nokia’s, so he hears the artificial, metallic-like voice coming from his phone, but your sounds are just too lovely, transcending the robotic-ness of a phone call. and it’s like you’re actually there, smiling mischievously at him while stroking his cock and teasing him the way he liked to be teased.

“s-sugu?” you mumble, mind heading into the extremes and confident now that he’s just weirded out and silent, but it’s anything but that.

“yes, baby?” he hums, smiling to himself when he hears rustling over the phone and he can imagine you lifting your hips to remove your panties, tossing it somewhere across the room. “wanna tell me what you’re doin’?” 

you suck in a breath — so he knows — but suguru always knows everything so you’re whining into the receiver, pleasantly surprised when he replies with a deep groan that only makes you clench around nothing.

“that’s right . .” he drawls and you hear a soft thud over the line, and now you’re the one quieting your movements just to hear your boyfriend, the faint shlick shlick sounds of his hand along his cock. geto gasps when he squeezes his tip just like how you do it, pre-cum starting to leak. “need you h-here, doll . .”

you mewl softly and start the hand on your clit again, abandoning the tight hold around your phone just so you can use the other to slip your fingers into your warm cunt. it doesn’t even compare to the thickness and length of geto’s dick, but you have to work with what you have. with head turned toward the speaker, your boyfriend has gone non-verbal, too, moaning like a slut into the receiver.

“suguru, i’m— please . .” you whine softly, hips bucking into your hands, “doesn’t feel as g— good.”

geto coos inwardly at your needy voice, mouth falling open at his rock hard cock. it’s so hard that it hurts, left to merely fuck his fleshlight whenever he could and use his hand on other days. he missed your sweet fucking pussy so, so much, just picturing your beautiful arched back that lifts off the sheets and your shaking thighs. he imagines your perfect pout on your face as you finger yourself, unsatisfied, obviously, begging him with tugs to his hands and his eyes flutter close.

“i know, baby, and ’m sorry,” he mumbles, taking the nokia from his ear to put it right up to his relentless pumping and you swallow, the slick, wet sounds more clear now. “but you hear what ya do t’me, don’t you?”

“mhm . .” you trail off, thinking of his fat cock impaling you instead, and you follow his actions to a T, bringing it right to your sopping cunt and geto has to scrunch his already shut eyes just to wish that his hand was your pussy. your hand is getting tired, he’s sure, but you finger yourself so prettily his hand easily speeds up, giving his shaft periodic squeezes.

“so wet, suguu . .” you drag out his name, already feeling your high approach soon, but you want the both of you to cum together. “i miss you stretchin’ me out . .” a hiss from suguru, “i miss your cum spilling out of me.”

that has geto choking out a whine, “f—fuck, sweetheart, don’t say that. i do miss g-giving you all of my cum—”

the filthiness of everything contributes to all your senses, parents omitted from memory, your finals at the back of your mind and only focusing on the envelope that resides on your bedside table containing a plane ticket. in one week you’d be able to see him again — a sweet treat given to you by gojo and nanami with their combined expenses.

you didn’t even know how you could thank them and while nanami waves you off for any payback, gojo did say you could treat him to anything in that café. it was difficult not to be excited, a louder whine drawn from your throat again and he laughs breathlessly, voice down low and distraught.

“any particular reason w-why my girl’s so needy lately—?”

geto basically chokes out his question while you shake your head until you remember that he can’t see you, answering with a broken “no”.

you resist the urge to spill on the exact reason — your mind spiralling from the anticipation of meeting him, the many, many lewd memories you’ve made over six months, his just-woken-up voice — because he’d never let you live it down.

“c-close, suguru—” your thighs are squeezed tight around your tired hand, sensitive from the immense overstimulation, “’m g’nna cum soon—!”

“me too, my love,” geto’s eyes are back open, trained on his cock and watching the sheer neediness shown in his weeping tip and bucking hips. he needs this, he needs you, and once you’re submitting your final paper, he’s sure to look at flights right to your doorstep.

“i’m c—” you’re whining out, body totally turned over and lying on your stomach as you chase your high, fuelled by the deep guttural groans of your boyfriend. your lips and mind are only filled with suguru, suguru, suguru, not even caring that your sheets are soaked and your fingers are cramping.

“baby, baby, baaaby . . s—shit—” geto reaches his release first, mind filled with replenished memories of your tight pussy hugging his cock, spurts of white spilling all over himself with a loud groan and you’re left to listen out for the desperate sounds of your boyfriend miles away, lengthening his climax as he continues to pump himself. “cum all over your fingers, doll . .”

suguru coaxes in that sweet voice of his, mumbling deep into the phone only for you. “doing so, so good, aren’t ya?” the quietness on his end, the slow lazy stroking of his hand again, and you’re cumming all over your fingers, eyes blown wide from the orgasm that he talks you through while you ride it out on your mediocre fingers. your mouth is stained with endless profanities and moans mixed with geto’s name, muffled by the bedsheets you’re so harshly biting into to prevent any loud, unbecoming sounds.

“that good?” he asks with a laugh, yawning yet again and you feel guilty again—

“i’m sorry, s—”

“no. don’t, doll, don’t apologise,” suguru brushes his thumb over his thigh, partially wiping off the cum and partially hoping he can relax the furrow of your brow like he always does. “you’re frowning and your shoulders are up, probably, relax . .”

you sigh, another thing that geto values a lot and has taught to you; deep breaths and untensing all parts of your body.

“good girl, was that good?”

“the phone sex or the deep breaths?”

geto grins. god, he missed you so fucking much — “both.”

“both was very good, thank you very much,” you giggle, not paying much mind to the way you remove your fingers from your cunt, turning over to the bedside table to take some tissues, “although the sex was a little better.”

“aw, no wins for the intense, groundbreaking, spirit-calming deep breaths?”

you shake your head (you’ve got to stop doing that), “ehh . . it was alright.”

geto’s reluctant sleepiness grants you a few more minutes together, his words starting to slur more and more the longer you were on the line, but you can’t say you don’t enjoy it. with fatigue came the words laced with unhindered affection, murmuring softly about hoping to see you soon, to feel you, to kiss you, and you expressed the same sentiment back to him.

the other switches the output to speaker, wanting to take in the messily taken profile pic he set your contact with. a blurred, blinding smile with his face squished against yours; a little below the two of you, berry and cherry clutched within your palms, doing the same. “can my girl do her best for her finals?”

“i can’t promise the best, but i’ll try . . okay?”

geto hums, a soft smile on his face. he’s cleaned up by now, new sweatpants on and duvet pulled right to his neck while he stares at your face, the pixels of the nokia never diluting your beauty.

“attagirl. have a good dinner, lovergirl.”

that knocks some breath out of you, and you grin like a schoolgirl.

“have a goodnight’s sleep, loverboy.”

you bounce on your heels impatiently when the plane finally lands, waiting for the throngs of people on the flight to leave through the bridge, but it’s taking ages, speed walking once you’re out. you wanted to be the first at the luggage conveyor belt, you needed to be the first passenger of your flight to be out of the arrival doors.

without the rush of the people and the striking colours of your boyfriend’s friends’ hair colours, it wasn’t too difficult to run up to them for a big hug.

“(y/n)~!” gojo drags out your name, waving you over excitedly and bringing the both of you into a group hug. nanami is adamant on being the ever broody racer, but you catch the ghost of a smile when he wraps a careful arm around your shoulders.

“how was the flight, (y/n)?” the blonde’s firm but concerned voice cuts through the chaos of the white-haired man.

“don’t ask lame questions like thaaaat, nanami! you’ll just bore me—” and a resounding smack! is then heard, and gojo’s clutching the back of his head in pain, the other taking the opportunity to lead you away from gojo’s antics and offering to help with your luggages. without words, nanami already feels your nervousness, patting your back in solidarity.

“hey— hey! oi!”

gojo slams the door to his car. “okay, we’ve painstakingly tried to hold suguru back whenever he was about to book flights—” gojo mentions in the car on the ride there, taking way too quick turns for your liking with your luggage going to town in the trunk. its thumps against the roof and sides always seem to interrupt the conversation with the white-haired man, but he seemed too much in a hurry to care. “think it was almost eight separate times!”

“thank you— ah!” you almost lurch forward at the amber light, but gojo decided at the last minute that he was just going to run it — braking then speeding it up all over again.

“you know, for a racer, you’re a terrible civilian driver . .” you groan once you reach the mouth of the familiar car park that you frequented in your six months in japan, but now that gojo’s easily manoeuvres the car to a slow, the adrenaline of the fast drive changes into something of dread, of a dizzying feeling.

what if suguru didn’t want to see you anymore? what if he already booked himself a flight and was nowhere to be found? what if he’s cheat—

your hands are clammy, not even present to how gojo calls out from you from the driver’s seat. cautiously, he’s putting a hand on your shoulder (because god forbid gojo touched anything of suguru’s, both Mazda and girlfriend), and shaking you out of your daze.

you catch glimpses of his sentences: “all  . . talks about . . trust . . no girl has . .” but you stop his rambling with frantic slaps to his shoulder. you know you shouldn’t be jumping to conclusions but it’s hard not to when the scene is clear as day. suguru is never one to cheat — from the six months you’ve known him, from the many calls and check-ins the two of you do over the line.

defying time zones, fighting fatigue . . for this?

but you know better to list your lover as the instigator, especially from how this other girl was just hovering all over his Mazda, sticking her ass out and trailing her hand all over his finishing. that was one thing — but geto isn’t making any move to shove her off, only looking at her through hooded lids that could definitely drive anyone off. she wasn’t affected, though.

you’re not listening to gojo even when you step out of the car, already used to the curious eyes that rake over you and your figure — curiosity turns into recognition and then shock when they see how your boyfriend acts, but before you can actually make your way toward them, another man sidles up to you.

oh my god, it’s daisuke. you sigh loudly, knowing how gojo had dealt with him before and how much of an asshole he is, but all he does is look you up and down, not giving one fuck to how the subject of his embarrassment was sitting right in the driver’s seat.

“hey, babygirl.” you want to vomit from that one greeting alone, but you try not to pay him much mind. “what’s a pretty lady like you doin’ out here?”

“don’t your sorry ass have a girlfriend?” daisuke doesn’t even begin to digest the insult, and you think that he’s a masochist with how much he sets himself up for getting insulted, but then the girl’s eyes meet yours — she’s in his pictures, she’s in his wallet, you’ve seen her when this loser beside you blatantly brags about his girl. you’d feel sorry for her but it seems she’s as stupid as him.

they’re exactly that — realising you just walked yourself into one big jealousy scheme planned by the biggest jokers of the underground racing scene, your suspicions are confirmed when his eyes are also locked on his girlfriend with your boyfriend of all people, making sure she sees that he’s all up in your space. she’s doing the same, but when she actually tries to touch him is when geto finally does something, and the jealous burn in your heart quells a bit.

geto’s too smart to be mingling around with her, you hope, when you hear him mutter something to her and you smile to yourself when she cowers under his stare and words.

“you touch my fuckin’ car one more time and i’m sure to drive both you and your loser boyfriend, out of here forever. you can take your clown asses to another parking lot and race there and then i won’t have to see your faces any more,” his hold around his wrist isn’t harsh, but it is firm, and he prevents her from leaving until she gets his message, “plus i have a girl i’m obsessed with. take your lame jealous charade somewhere else and maybe go to couples’ therapy. you two clearly need it.”

and when she looks at you again — you think it’s how your identity settles in her mind — she yelps and finally runs away at the daggers you give, not even sparing a glance to daisuke who’s carefully scooching closer to you. but just as he tries to wrap his arm around your waist, your eyes catch suguru’s.

his eyes soften for just a moment; it was just like the café. his palms turn sweaty and he feels like he could collapse — but now you’re looking just a little different. he wasn’t sure if it was because of your hair or the tiredness from exams, but you’re still as stunning as the day he led you out of the parking lot.

geto cannot resist giving you a big grin, but it quickly fades when his gaze falls on daisuke beside you and a scowl appears. and while your body’s already distancing yourself from the man’s crusty ass lips, you feel a throb go right down to your core when the same annoyed glower forms across his features: eyebrows pulled taut, long strides, muscles bulging in the wifebeater he’s got on.

six months away from your man has clearly done things to you.

with one smooth swoop, geto has you pulled flush against him, not even looking as he uses his free hand to grab at daisuke’s neckline before he leans in to kiss you. it’s admittedly a little embarrassing, cause your body reacts so readily to him, tits pressed against his chest while your fingers tangle themselves in his long hair. he tastes like cigarettes and cherries like always and you moan softly into his mouth when his hands wander right down to your ass to give it a squeeze.

“satoru’s not very good at hiding secrets, unfortunately,” geto spills and you pout, surprise ruined by the loud mouth of his friend, but before he gives you his undivided attention, he tugs daisuke closer, roughly. “but that don’t mean i ain’t happy to see ya, baby.”

geto laughs at your flustered state, until his expression darkens again — “you have a lot of nerve touching my girl.”

“I—i didn’t! she was basically begging for me to touch her.”

“don’t you—”

“p-plus! my girl was all up over you too, so i thought i’d give her a little lovin’—”

geto almost smashes his jaw in. either way, he lands a clean punch to his face that has daisuke writhing on the floor, clutching his mouth in pain but that doesn’t deter daisuke one bit who sits up . . and then is immediately beaten down again with a boot to his chest. your boyfriend leans down and looks him straight in the eye.

“i’m cancelling my race just so i can make my girl scream my name loud enough for you, because you could never fuck her or anyone that good with your shit dick game,” geto scoffs, “and forget girls, you can’t even win enough races to rise up the ranks. you’ve embarrassed yourself enough, don’t you think?”

suguru doesn’t bother waiting for an answer, only ushering you toward his Mazda parked in the familiar corner, easily shooting a text to gojo to cancel the race as he mentioned just so he could . .

with windows down, you relish again in the tokyo night air, the hand that you miss so much on your thigh, the alluring voice he’s speaking to you in, the beauty of geto suguru. everything looked the same since you left, from the photos he’s put up on the dashboard, the berry keychain hanging from the rear view mirror, the outer orange coating of his car.

“i—”

“i’m sorry, my love,” suguru leaps forward to apologise, stopping the car abruptly. you’ve already reached your destination but, it seems he wants to say something first.

“why are you apologising?”

he frowns, bringing his hand to cradle your cheek. easily, you’re leaning into the touch, closing your eyes. “for ruining the surprise, for that stupid fight with daisuke, for letting my emotions take over.”

you mirror him, features also deepening in somberness. “you didn’t do anything — if anything, you were a victim of his girlfriend too. but . . seeing her be all over you, made me think the worst after not seeing you for six months.”

geto’s eyes soften yet again (he simply can’t help it around you), using both hands to hold you, now, and you float into his arms like a feather, like he’s in command. you let him guide you into the driver’s seat, faces so close and just hoping to touch after so many months apart.

“i . . i love you,” he swallows, brushing the hair from your face. you find that he’s shaking and breathing so heavily you’d think he was hyperventilating, but he gathers courage on a deep breath and continues, “i have since you left. right after, i went home to cry.”

“oh . .” your lip juts out, eyebrows downturned and eyes filling just a little, “oh, sugu . .”

“i just have always wanted to say it, i guess,” he chuckles, sniffling to hide his true emotions, “i just didn’t know whether i should say it over the phone where it would sound cheap; b-but, you don’t have to say it back, of course—”

you smile through tears, pressing a peck to his forehead in gratitude, “it wouldn’t sound like it to me, but i appreciate you waiting until i returned,” geto relishes in your lips upon his skin again, and he doesn’t think he could survive another day, another minute, another second without you, “i have, too, but i’m not sure when. it definitely includes the time you set alarms to wake me up for exams, though.”

he laughs freely at the memory now, of alarms interrupting his dinners and his parents asking “another call?”, but they let him do whatever, happy to hear their boy joking and laughing over the call with his mystery partner. you giggle, using your thumbs to wipe away the tears that did fall, letting the interior fluorescent light of the Mazda illuminate the features you love so much, all belonging to the man you pined over from many miles away.

“i love you too, suguru — stumbling into that random car park was the best thing i’ve ever done.”

“well, it might’ve not turned out as well if some other group had gotten to you first,” his thumb plays with your bottom lip and brings you to him, “’m just glad i got to ya in time . .”

“yeah? what if you didn’t at all?”

“then i would’ve made sure i’d find you in any way that i can, even if i had to beat up a thousand daisukes.”

that makes you giggle at little, a sliver of eye contact shared with your lover before he engulfs you in a rough kiss and your moan reaches the heavens, body so sensitive from being away from his touch that you jolt when he wraps an arm around your waist. 

“relax, baby,” geto chuckles, speaking against your lips, “take it slow.”

“but i don’t wanna . .” you whine softly, clinging to him in surprise when he pulls a lever next to his seat and the backrest falls all the way down.

“ah!” you grin, “new mod?”

suguru barks out in laughter, “ya caught me. i got it modified yesterday.”

“so you could do dirty things like this?”

he rolls his eyes with a blinding smile, just so, so happy he’s got you back in his arms again, “exactly that.”

the other willingly shows you just what the modification can take, both hands spread out on your ass and pulling you onto his crotch. your core already feels the half-hard bulge under him, using your hips to grind down even more along him. everything feels like too much, after so long away from him that you already feel your high approaching from simply grinding your clit against him and he teases.

“you g’nna cum, already?” he grins slyly, suddenly moving his hips to meet yours that has a broken mewl leaving your throat.

“b—been too long away from you . .” you admit a little sheepishly, using his shirt as an anchor while you continue to grind your cunt into his front, only your panties and his trousers separating the contact of skin. but with how your body jerks in pleasure, you’d think there was nothing between the both of you. “i need you, quick.”

geto says nothing but help you with small pants, the backlighting from the headlines accentuating your figure so nicely that he grunts out your name in between swears, soon stuttering your syllables once he feels you still on his lap with arched back and throbbing cunt. he can feel you, feel you squeezing around him even when he wasn’t in you.

“guess your fingers were pretty crap, h-huh?” massaging your sides, you hum in disapproval at his cheeky smirk, hoping to change that when he lets you do whatever: you pull him up by his shirt and open the door to his car, pushing at him to get out. you don’t day anything and he already knows what you want when you spread your legs, biting his lip at the wet patch on the pretty set you decided to don.

and even with witnessing this sight over and over, you’re never used to the way geto worships you, reveres you, when he kneels down on straight gravel. he doesn’t care if his pants are littered with small specks of dust and dirt, whether he knees start to hurt, but he only has his eyes set on your alluring cunt, finger delicate when he pulls your panties to the side but just brutal when his mouth meets your clit.

“su— s-shit—!” is all you can manage, hearing the other breathe through his nose once his mouth latches on your pussy. it’s something that he hasn’t tasted since long ago, and he’d be damned to let you go again, so he takes the opportunity to savour your arousal, switching between flicking and sucking on your clit like a starved man.

“she tastes so fuckin’ good hmmff—” his eyes meet yours and he feels you squeeze around nothing, making a show of letting you watch how his tongue circles your bud, down to your hole and up again, slurping up your juices sloppily. “i hope this pussy’s missed me as much as i missed her, yeah?”

“y-yeah . .” you moan out softly, legs moving apart more to get more of him, pelvis humping against his face so much that he has to hold it down with a hand. your pre is dripping all over his leather seats and onto the floor, but he makes sure not to spill any more from the way he scoops it up and prods at your entrance. 

“let your pussy do the talkin’, baby,” he mumbles drunkenly, pushing in a finger past your walls and the stretch is already so much better than your own. your jaw hangs open in ecstasy, body already bucking and craving for more when he pushes his thicker finger all the way in and it’s no problem for geto to slip the other in, “she’s sucking me in so well, can she do this to my cock too? hm?”

wordlessly, you’re nodding, catching a whisper of good girl before he’s back on your sopping pussy, sucking up and swallowing all of your arousal that it’s downright filthy, the noises echoing throughout the space. geto doesn’t waste any time pumping his digits, moving them in tandem with his tongue.

“s—suguru . .” you whine, struggling to keep your eyes open from the sheer pleasure, and you’re met with the vision that you can never get enough of — your racer boyfriend’s tongue out, hooded lids and soaked chin — and he grants you a little more of euphoria, groaning loudly into your pussy. with each minute, he’s only getting harder, unbelievably so, so your fantasy cut short when he removes his fingers and mouth with a pop! and laughs at your needy whine.

“you’ve been away too long, come,” geto stands to give you a kiss first, letting you taste yourself, “i need to be in you, darlin’.” 

and so when he first slips in, it feels like heaven on earth, his leaking tip nudging past your folds and right into your warm cunt that he whines so loudly, long hair falling all about his face and body. you’re not different, nails digging in his skin at the stretch that you’ve missed, cock so much longer and thicker than your fingers.

“t-this is better than any fleshlight, fuuckk . .” he mutters to himself, one hand holding your ankle up and the other holding your bent knee. he’s hoping the modification he made to his car wouldn’t give up on him, because he knows he won’t be able to hold back once you’ve adjusted. but when you start moving earlier than he expects, he doesn’t give you the chance, slamming right up to the hilt until you’re shivering and clenching around him.

“g—god, r-right there, sugu—” you preen, nothing but incoherent and repeated sentences mumbled by you over and over, “feels s’full . .”

“y-yeah? tha’ it?” you don’t need the shitty light of the abandoned parking lot to make you look beautiful, you’re doing it all on your own when your body arches towards him and your legs shiver in his hold, catching glimpses of just how wet you were — juices smeared along your inner thighs, a clear sheen of it along his length, all thanks to the lighting. “so sloppy, huh . . listen to ’er.”

geto emphasises his thrust, in, out, and in, out, just for you to hear your dripping pussy dragging along his shaft, one of the things of yours that makes him go insane. 

“all because of you,” you babble mindlessly, fingers expressing your need for him and he listens like he always does, body hovering over yours just to kiss you and because of that he’s thrusting all the more deeper into you as you break the kiss with a loud moan. geto laughs against your lips, hips making quick work to make sure he stays in his new angle, and he’s rewarded with your lewd pleas for him.

he’s ramming into you so perfectly, mushroom tip just barely brushing against your cervix each time that it has your mouth permanently open in pure pleasure.

“well . . you’re the only doll to get me hard and needy like this . .” he chuckles again, kissing down your neck to make sure you get blue and black into your skin, “and i fuckin’ love her for it.”

with a shaky hand you pull on his ruined ponytail, “s-say it again.”

“i love you,” suguru almost whispers, afraid of breaking the silence.

“again . .”

“i love you, sweetheart,” that makes you bend into his hold, undoubtedly.

“again, suguru—”

his hips are relentless, still moving even through his pussydrunk confessions, “i love you— i-i love you, i love you. so, goddamn, much— s-shiiit . .”

“m-me too, su . . i love you— i—” your arms trap him, circling around his neck and making sure he stays close to you and he pushes on your knees more, fat cock fucking into you in a more open mating press, knowing you’re close by how your toes curl and your stomach contracts, by how your pussy flutters around his mouth and soft needy sighs turn into wanton moans. he’s got you mapped out, memorised, all from his devotion to you.

“i know, baby, you’re close, y—yeah?”

he feels you nod, thighs starting to burn from the position but while your pussy keeps sucking him in, he’s sure to continue to slam into you, making sure all four walls of the parking lot hear the obscene sounds of his balls slapping against your ass.

“c’mon, cum with me, princess,” he murmurs, lightheaded with the tightness and warmth of your pussy. it’s a wonder he hasn’t cummed already, sneaking one hand in between your bodies to rub at your clit. your moans are rendered inaudible, only managing pathetic squeaks before you’re tipped over the edge and you’re whimpering so loudly into his car, cum dripping down and out your cunt and right to your ass.

your pussy flutters with geto’s continued thrusts, prompting him to reach his release right after with a deep groan, hips stuttering in your sensitive pussy until he’s spilling his load, white and hot. it’s just so, so goddamn much, stuffing your hole full of his cum that it has no choice to spill and dribble out when he removes his cock, the sight just so mesmerising to him.

“p—please,” your energy is far from used up, turning your body over just so you can present your ass to him. face squished into the driver’s seat, you use both hands to spread your cum-filled pussy, just asking for more and geto only smiles with a certain lilt in his voice. “need more, suguru . .”

“that’s my lovergirl.”

[catcze]

I see you miss writing for his grace wriothesley,

Maybe, you can try with, uh,

you who drop by his office everyday, literally everyday whenever the man is by the fortress?

Bringing lunch and always kiss him wherever, be it by the cheeks, temples, forehead, or lips before leaving him alone again to continue his work?

Making him always anticipated for the short moment of solace, making him looking forward to your kisses—?

Only for you suddenly just stopped kissing him and only drop the lunch box, and left him behind. Earning a sad puppy all alone by the office?

You can ignore/delete this if there's already a similar fic of yours with this prompt 🙌🏻

— anywho, have a great day! 💜

!! This is sooo cute? I can just imagine the sorta shocked/hurt puppy dog look he gets on his face when you skip the kiss one day lol TT

Wriothesley is pouting. The man is honest to archons pouting, and you have no idea why.

Ever since you had returned to the fortress from your daily toil at the palais mermonia, your beloved has been huffy and pouting, only giving you curt answers and all but sulking in his chair when you ask him what's wrong. He's wrapped himself up in his paper work rather than wrapping himself up with you, even going so far as to seclude himself in his office during the usual dinnertime.

"I don't know either," Sigewinne whispers to you as you both have dinner in the cafeteria. "He's been like this for the whole afternoon. When I walked into his office after lunch he was sulking in his chair, looking mopey, when he looked completely fine this morning."

The melusine's words scratch a part of your brain, the one that tells you that you forgot something today, but that you're not entirely sure what it is. You wouldn't be surprised if you did, honestly— the palais was jam-packed with things that needed doing, papers that needed moving, and people that needed talking to. In the hustle and bustle of today, it's inevitable for you to miss something.

it all comes to a head after dinner, when you're relaxing in your and Wriothesley's shared quarters. It's late in the evening at this point, and you're already relaxed in the warm bed, a book in your hand as you wait for Wriothesley's sulking to crack and for him to eventually come and tell you what's got him in such a funk.

And it doesn't take long, either— soon enough, the door to your quarters opens and shuts quietly, and your beloved is standing by the bedside, looming over you, still with that pouty expression that, too anyone else, might seem out of character.

He doesn't say anything at first, and neither do you. Instead, you bookmark the last page you were on and set it on your side table before pulling off the blanket and opening your arms— a clear invitation. One that Wriothesley takes immediately, all but dropping into your hold and wrapping his arms around you. He buries his face in your neck, his heavy weight pressing down on your person and pinning you to the bed, but you can't be bothered to really care about that.

With one hand running through his hair, petting him while he holds you, you ask— "Something happen?"

Wriothesley huffs a breath to your neck and the warm air dances on your skin. You can feel his cheeks warm in embarrassment, maybe, as he mumbles something incomprehensible.

"Hm?"

He does it again, and you tug on his hair in retribution, drawing him away from the crook of your neck enough that you hear what he says.

"...didn't kiss me during lunch," the fearsome duke mumbles, refusing to meet your eyes, scowling with embarrassment at his own childish admission.

You blink, turning the words over in your mind as you try to recall the events of today's lunch and— yeah. He's right. Your brain had been so muddled up with things you had to get done once you returned to the palais that you had left his office in a flurry after dropping his lunch off at his desk.

At the realization that that was why he had been pouting and sulky the whole day, you can't help but giggle.

Wriothesley, in turn, scowls at you, even as the flush on his cheeks darken considerably at the admission.

"Oh, I'm sorry my love," you coo once your giggles die down, your cheeks hurting from smiling at how sweet and funny and needy this big scary warden of yours is. "Let me make it up to you, hm?"

Wriothesley is still pouting as your hands weave in his hair and you tug him down, but the expression is quickly wiped off of his face as you make up for lunchtime— you pepper kisses on his forehead, his nose, his temples, his cheeks. Your lips seek out every inch of his face, layering it gently in your amused, endeared affections.

It's only when Wriothesley is smiling softly, melting bonelessly into your embrace and all but humming as you kiss him that you stop, pulling away to grin at him.

"There. I think my debt has been repaid, no?"

[lucidfairies]

science class [e.w]

pairing: loser!ellie x cheerleader!reader

summary: when a new cheerleader arrives at ellie's college, face all dolled up and skirt-clad hips swaying, she all but wants to die.

warnings: smut, 18+ mdni, poc friendly, smoking, bottom!ellie, dom!fem!reader, tribbing, cunnilingus, nipple play, sorta thigh riding, overstim ‼️, ellie comes like five times

wc: 3.6k

top notes: I like accidentally made ellie sort of autistic but it's not my fault okay. also when I was writing this I was thinking abt how if this was a novel the reader would be black but I'm white so idk if I can like write that without like getting something wrong but sorry anyway

sometimes ellie wished she was blind. she wished that she couldn't see pretty girls, because maybe then she wouldn't fall in love with everybody. especially you.

she was two weeks into her sophomore year of college when you showed up. immediately blinded by your beauty, she almost tripped down the hallway as you walked past, in a short little skirt, and a white shirt. your ponytail flicked as you walked by, meeting up with someone you knew already.

she knew she was fucked.

when she arrived at her class, she was astounded to see that you were sitting in the seat next to hers, chewing gum and typing on your computer with cute blue light glasses on. like it was nothing. like her world wasn't crashing down in front of her.

standing in the corner of the lecture room, she debated moving seats. there were plenty of open ones, but you chose the one next to her? how was she supposed to survive this class with a pretty girl next to her, observing everything she does?

the answer is, she wasn't going to.

she was simply going to perish from the sight of you, from being in your presence, because she certainly didn't deserve to be and-

"ellie, would you please sit down? you're creeping me out." her teacher said, and she shifted nervously, then sped to her seat with her gaze trained at the floor. "okay, let's dive in, shall we?"

and the lecture continued. like you weren't right there. she couldn't understand why everyone in the world wasn't looking at you right now, absolutely entrancing, the way you took cute aesthetic notes and reapplied your shiny clear lip gloss.

"ellie?" you said, hoping she truly answered to that. she turned, meeting your eyes with a nervous smile and rosey red cheeks. "hi. I'm y/n. I just wanted to tell you that I like your sweatshirt."

it was a ratty old thing that joel had given her years ago, with a faded queens logo and a hole in the armpit that she had to sew back together every time she washed the poor hoodie.

"it's nice to meet you," she said quietly, tucking back a piece of hair that had fallen into her face. she realized how strange she must've looked and stopped quickly, "my dad gave it to me when I was like 11. I've had it forever."

you giggled. you just fucking.. giggled. "you aren't one of those people who just wears it because it's cool though, right?" ellie shook her head violently.

"no, I love their music. I wish I was born in the eightees so I could've listened to them live and.. yeah. I really like them." she turned away from you ever so slightly, nervously over talking and terrified that she was embarrassing herself.

"hey, you're good. I wish I was too. my favorite song is probably back chat, but keep yourself alive is a close second. how about you?" and you let this loser girl next to you talk. and talk. and talk.

ellie didn't know that you were intrigued by her demeanor in every way. from the stickers on her lap top to the patches on her backpack, every detail about her you noticed. you observed the way she warmed up to people and let you strike up a conversation with her about anything once you knew her. and it was... cute. really fucking adorable.

ellie's life only got a million times harder after that. to add to her series of neverending death sentences, she now had to see you in your perfect makeup and effortless outfits everyday. instead of just showing up to class, you insisted on talking to ellie. about everything. cheer, your friends, some dude that was hitting on you.

and on top of that? she saw you in the hallways, or on campus and you smiled. waved, even. some days you even talked to her. in public. you weren't afraid to be friends with her. and though she had jesse and dina, she still had very little social experience, and you were like a breath of fresh air.

on a chilly wednesday afternoon, ellie was walking to the building that your class had been in, and caught a glance of some other lesbian couple on campus. that settled it. she was going to ask for your number today, it wasn't like she was proposing marriage. just something simple. easy.

"can I have your number?" she interrupted you mid-sentence. and you smiled. of course you fucking smiled. she prepared herself for the notorious rejection, after hearing rumors of you rejecting everyone that came up to you and asked for your socials we. she wasn't just anyone, though.

"duh, you only took forever to ask." ellie was frozen in place. had you wanted her to ask? couldn't you have asked for hers? but before she could overthink too much, you were shoving your phone in her face and ellie was putting her number in. "anyway, as I was saying.."

ellie tuned out what you were saying, purely by accident. there were too many big events going on in her life for her poor brain to handle. the love of her life just agreed to give her their number, and she was plotting her route to dina's dorm as quickly as possible to tell her everything.

"holy shit dina," she huffed, running her hands through her hair. "I asked for her number so she gave it to me, and we talked! dina, we talked. about things. I already have our life planned out. we're gonna have two kids and a dog, she'll be a stay at home mom, because I'll do everything for her. I would kill for this girl, dina." dina was unimpressed.

"you are such a loser, els. has anyone told you that before?" she wasn't a loser, she was just incredibly and obsessively in love with you. ellie rolled her eyes. "I say make a move. you never know what could come of it."

"I can't," she sighed, trying to find words. "I can't just make a move, what if she doesn't like me? what if she thinks I'm weird?" she frowned.

"you are weird. if she doesn't like you like that, then fuck her. maybe start with being friends?" ellie nodded. she thought you guys were already friends, but technically you never hung out outside of class, and you hadn't really texted that much (she got your number today, but that hardly mattered).

"should I invite her to jesse's on friday?" dina rubbed the back of her neck. jesse was in a frat, one of the largest on campus that had absolutely wild parties on the weekends, which weren't exactly the best place for first dates. but to ellie... smoking and drinking around hot people in a random basement? amazing.

"if you think she's into that, I'm not gonna stop you." ellie was up and out of dina's apartment quickly, biking back to the dorms and planning out everything that was going to happen on friday.

- - -

in ellie's defense, she overslept. she wasn't thinking much about grabbing a jacket when she was already going to be ten minutes late, so when she stopped outside and the cool air hit her like a brick, she was less than prepared. but it hardly mattered. today was the day she was going to invite you to jesse's party, so her stupid jacket was like a blip on her radar.

"ellie, you're turning blue." you said, once ellie stumbled into her seat next to you. she was in nothing but a loose fitting tee-shirt and jeans, nothing to protect her petite figure. you hadn't noticed before how toned her arms were, but you certainly did now.

"I'm fine, it-it-it's not that cold." her teeth chattered as she stealthy tried to rub her hands over her arms to create friction.

"ellie, baby, I have an extra sweatshirt," you giggled when her eyes widened, grabbing the sweatshirt and handing it to her. "wash it and return it to me whenever." it was a bland black sweatshirt, but it matched your outfit, and you were more than happy to give it to ellie.

ellie who was most definitely going to pass out. she was probably just cold. it wasn't because she could smell your perfume on your hoodie that you just handed her. like it was nothing. she was going to fall out of her chair, onto the floor, and die.

"thanks," she pulled it over her head and sunk into it. "I'll give it back next class- what are you doing on friday?" she tried to get her thoughts straight while you looked at her with an adorable smile.

"I'm actually packing up and leaving, I dropped out," ellie's face fell, "oh ellie you're face," you laughed hard, and her expression softened. "but I'm not doing anything. why? wanna ask me out?" ellie was definitely blushing hard.

"my friend jesse is having a party at his frat on friday, do you.. do you maybe wanna go?" you tilted your head and looked away, as if you actually needed to think about it.

"hm, I guess I can fit that into my schedule." ellie released the breath she was holding and looked down at her hands for a moment before meeting your eyes again.

"uh that's great. it's kappa alpha, at nine. I would pick you up but I don't have a car,"

"how about I pick you up? what's your dorm number?" ellie texted you all the details, and it was settled. you were going on a date. together. in two days, and you were driving. ellie was on cloud nine- not even, cloud fucking ten.

- - -

"hey els," you giggled as she opened her dorm door. "oh, you look so cute! I'm definitely stealing this from you." you pushed a piece of hair behind her ear and messed with the corner of her collar, attached to a red flannel.

"oh thanks... it's yours if you want it." you knew if you asked she wouldn't ever have you give it back, maybe even give it to you right now. she stepped out of her room and shut the door, then followed you down the hallway.

"so who's this jesse kid? I hear a lot about him." you asked, turning on the engine and pulling out of the parking lot. the frat was on the other side of campus and ellie planned on walking? laughable.

"I really don't know him that well, he's dating my friend dina. he's a big stoner, but he's not super into the party scene. just goes 'cause the frat does." her eyes were trained out the window, not because she didn't want to listen to you, but because she was insatiably nervous.

"nice, nice." you paused for a moment. "are we gonna dance together or what? gonna save me a slow dance?" the tips of ellie's ears turned red.

"because I have such a roster." she joked, rolling her eyes. she would save every dance for you.

"perfect. is jesse's weed good?" she shrugged.

"it's okay. not as good as mine, and his plug is kinda shitty. whatever, it works. we're here." you pulled the car to a stop against the curb, in awe at how many people were coming in and out of the house.

ellie desperately needed to get high. maybe then she could talk to you like a normal person, not like she was trying to brush you off. when she found jesse, he was talking to dina and brushed her off. with a groan, she turned to find some other seller.

you were talking to someone, pretending not to pay attention to ellie skittering around the house talking to people she knew. maybe she wasn't as much of a loser as you thought, or maybe she was just a stoner. one of them. either way, she kept disappearing, but when you finally found her again, she was sitting on a couch, joint hanging from her lips as she talked with some friends.

"els," you fell next to her, taking the joint out of her mouth and taking a hit. "we should play beer pong." you suggested, smiling at her the way she liked.

"we were just talking about that," dina cut in, "me and jesse will play with you guys, won't we jes?" he turned back towards the three of you, dazed and a little confused. "that's a yes." ellie was burning lasers into dina, who was standing.

one of the tables was empty, and the group immediately moved to occupy it. you took your place next to ellie, teaming up with dina who was smirking at the end of the table. "you go first," you handed ellie the small white ball.

ellie was skilled, that's for sure. she made almost every single point, which had jesse drinking until he couldn't see straight. she was trying so hard not to focus on the way your bicep brushed against hers, and the way you giggled whenever you made a point. it just wasn't fair. none of this was fair.

"I definitely won." ellie said, as you made your way back inside. "you had, like, two drinks, max. I had jesse drinking for miles." you could tell she was on something now, the way she grinned and made eye contact and jokes were far from her usual character.

"don't you owe me a dance?" your hand locked with hers as you gently pulled her in the direction of where most people were dancing. you lifted her arm and spun her, pulling her back against your front by her hips.

ellie surely wasn't breathing. she was sure that she had died from alcohol consumption, or maybe someone stabbed her, and she was dead, in heaven. or a fever dream in a coma. there was no way in hell -in hell- that you were swaying your hips against her ass, cunt so fucking close to where she desperately needed you.

"this is fun, don'tcha think, ellie?" you whispered, voice low as you guided her hips with yours. her head fell back against your shoulder, alcohol wearing off as you ground her hips against your front. "I asked you a question, darlin."

"so fun," she muttered, eyes closed as she let you bring her hips back and forth with yours to the beat of the music. "wanna go upstairs?"

"ellie williams inviting me upstairs on the first date? dirty." you giggled, pulling away from her body. she was flushed, her boxers were already wet, and she had no clue what going upstairs entailed. but she needed you regardless. "lead the way, confident." she ran her sweaty hands down the front of her jeans and led you upstairs, to an empty bedroom. it was jesse's, and he wouldn't ever know.. right?

you were pulling her face against yours before she even got a chance to tell you that she didn't know what to do. you were definitely taking the lead on this one - not that ellie objected in any sense.

you nicked her bottom lip, eliciting blood at how chapped they were. you pushed your tongue into her mouth, smiling when she moaned and pulled you in by your waist. your hands traveled, brushing against her tits from beneath her tee shirt. obviously she didn't wear a bra, she was too cool and masc for that.

"you're desperate els," you sneered when you pulled away, pulling your crop top up and over your head. "take off your shirt and pants and lay down." ellie had no thoughts in her head; just you. you telling her to strip. this definitely wasn't a fever dream.

she quickly lost her shirt and pants, leaving lanky limbs and embarrassing boxers. her nipples were perked up, waiting to be sucked and slapped, and her face was red with a never ending blush.

when she laid down, you got on top of her, pushing her legs up around your waist as you sucked hickey after hickey into her neck. she was writhing and whining, begging for you to touch her further than just your hands still placed on her thighs. just from making out and hickies she was pushing her hips into you, clit hitting the fabric of your skirt as you moved to push your thigh between her legs.

"need you so bad," she whimpered when you finally diverted your attention from her neck down her chest. you left soft kisses between her tits and around them, before taking her nipple in your mouth and harshly sucking. like a false sense of security.

her hips were coming down hard and fast against your knee as you continued to mess with her tits, pulling her nipples between your fingers and grazing them with your teeth. she was just so fucking sensitive, and she barely even smoked anything.

knowing she was getting close, you moved your knee and kissed down her sternum, leaving a trail of shiny gloss as you got to the waistband of her boxers. "oh, poor baby, you've been waiting for this, haven't you?" you ran your thumb over the wet patch of her underwear.

"nghh- for so long," she moaned as her hips rutted into your palm. "I think about y- fuck- think about you when I..when I come," her eyes squeezed shut in embarrassment, knowing she was sharing far more than she needed to.

"do you now?" you teased, pulling her boxers down her pale legs. you added them to the pile of clothes and admired how absolutely drenched she was, practically leaking onto the sheets. "what do you think about, princess?" you were bringing her legs over your shoulders, looking at her expectantly.

"think about you- mh- about this," she was immediately distracted by the way you kissed her clit. "about c-cuming on your- shit shit fuck," you pressed your tongue against her clit and licked, before sucking it into your mouth and painting patterns with your tongue.

after keeping your attention directly on her clit for a few minutes, you circled her entrance with your middle finger, lubing it up before pushing it in to the first knuckle and fuck, she was tight, holding onto your finger to the point you could hardly thrust.

"ellie, you gotta relax. we can stop if you want to." she shook her head violently, unclenching her eyes and trying to breathe. her body released its tension, which made everything less tense, allowing you to push your finger the rest of the way in.

and... she came. just like that, barely a finger deep her cunt, barely doing anything.

"jesus ellie," you laughed to yourself. you didn't wait for her to finish before you started fucking your finger into her. she whined and thrashed to get away from your hand, but you added another finger and pressed down on her hip to steady her. you curled your fingers up just enough to hit that sweet spot inside of her and she almost black out.

"fuck- s'too much.. s'too much," she slurred, drunk on your fingers. the bed shook lightly against the wall at the harshness of your thrusts.

"is it really, baby?" you grinned, before taking her clit in your mouth again. her moans were practically louder than the music downstairs, and her back was arching. she attempted to get away from you, pulling her hips away, but it was no use.

tears welled in her eyes as her stomach tightened. her pussy clenched around your fingers, sucking them in deep. you pressed against her spot as she came, making her let out a broken shriek.

ellie was definitely crying now. especially when you didn't stop... again. you just kept pounding your fingers into her, adding a third. just thinking about how hard she would cum on a strap instead of your fingers had you dizzy.

her second orgasm morphed into her third before you pulled your fingers out. they were drenched in cum, which was dripping down your arm and the sheets. ellie's cheeks were puffy from crying, hips twitching as she tried to breath.

"oh sweet girl, we're not done yet." you wiped your hand on the bed and climbed off of her, stripping yourself of your remaining clothes and coming back over her, kneeling between her legs.

you pushed her leg up, straddling her for a moment. her lips were parted, breathing heavily as she waited for you to drop against her. your lips quirked up into a smirk as you pressed your cunt against hers, head falling back as your clits met.

ellie's pussy was wet, covered in cum, ready to be fucked until she couldn't say any name but yours. you thrust your hips against hers, and she was crying again, pulling and flicking her own nipples as she listened to you moan and reveled at how phenomenal your pussy felt.

she pushed her hips into yours, so you held them down, forcing her to take whatever you gave her. you came down against her pelvis hard, almost to the point where it hurt, but ellie was living for it, sobbing out your name like it was God's.

"can't come again- I can't- fuck, nnghh," you forced two fingers into ellie's mouth and she shut up, sucking them like a slut.

"yes you can." your voice changed, something deeper and more dominant ripped out of you as you got close to your orgasm. a rock in your stomach dropped, and you could feel ellie getting close as you picked up the pace, moaning at how her cunt felt.

you came at the same time, cum mixing and smearing all over both of you. ellie was still crying, back arched as she moaned over and over. you kissed her ankle softly as you came down for your high, climbing off of her after a moment and laying next to her.

"I want you to be my girlfriend," ellie croaked, voice still hoarse for all the crying. you giggled, looking over at her with a grin.

"I think I can do that."

bottom notes: this is the longest fic I've written and I actually thought I wouldn't be able to get more than 2k words.. anyway sorry about the abrupt ending I kinda wanted to be done

[lv9su]

Everything inside me is stone.

Levi Ackerman x reader

I’ve wanted to write for him for so long this man is so fine💆🏾‍♀️ also this is based on the earlier seasons of aot

Age gap!!! Slightly toxic.. Angst, Forbidden Love (sorta) lots of sexual tension, always use of y/n, Levi being stubborn and you being stubborn back. 💋

~

Right now you weren’t in a.. strange predicament. Were you on top of Eren on the training grounds? Yes, but not in the way you might think. Why? Because you paired up for sparring, and you were very annoyed before this session started.

Let’s take it back to the reason why. The last conversation you had before everyone met for training. Maybe the word argument would be more fitted.

“Why do you keep on pushing me away?” You asked, getting frustrated at the sight of Levi getting out of the bed, cleaning the room you two had left a mess and finding clothes to get dressed. But you were having none of it.

“I’m not pushing you away, I’m protecting you.” Levi said, his back turned to you.

“Yes you are!? You know I can protect myself? You don’t need to isolate yourself from me.” Your voice began raising.

“I’m not the right person for you y/n. Since you’re so smart you should understand the risks of us! Whatever this is.” He turned around, pointing his finger between the both of you. He was self sabotaging because he felt you could do better than an older emotionally scarred man who just so happens to be the leader of your squad.

You felt the anger rise inside, and sure you could’ve screamed and yelled in his dumb face for saying what he said. Instead you were so angry tears pooled in your eyes, and you tried to hide it. Messily putting on your clothes you mumbled enough for him, to aggravated to speak normally.

“Fine.” You pulled on your white jeans.

“Whatever.” You began buttoning up your shirt.

“Just fuck off.” You hissed as his hands reached to help you button up since you being frantic.

You put on your socks and boots, the rest of your uniform in your room. “Leave me alone.”

He knew he’d fucked up. But seeing tears in your eyes, and your bottom lip quivering, he realised that was something he never wanted to see.

But why? It was so wrong. But when it was just the two of you it was so right.

It all started one drunken night three months ago began a kind of relationship you would’ve never ever expected to happen with Levi. Ackerman. Your. Captain.

I mean sure you always found him attractive, and he seemed to tolerate you more than anyone else in your scout group. He definitely did call you a Brat pretty much every day, but he didn’t ever insult you. Everyone else figured it was just favouritism when he’d tell everyone to fuck off and figure out their own shit except when it came to you he spoke in a normal tone. Needed help with the gear? He’d be behind you, guiding your arms and showing you what to do. Wanted to spar with him? He’d teach you new moves and would be very physical but not enough to hurt you, just for the sake of touch. You were thirsty? He’d make tea for the both of you. And so on.

You pretended to be oblivious to all of this, but in your mind you couldn’t help but daydream and zone out imagining what it’d be like with him.

“Thinking about the captain” Sasha nudged your arm as your hand rested on your face. She giggled as she sipped her alcoholic beverage. Yes, would absolutely were.

“No!!!! Shut up.” You slightly chuckled and rolled your eyes, as you began drinking a little more.

“Y’know y/n, if you change your mind and want someone your own age im your perfect match.” Jean winked at you, slurring his words and wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

“You need to sit down.” You grinned at the sight, standing up and sitting him down where you were sat.

You walked out of the tavern and sat outside in the dark, kissed by the moonlight and wrapped around the late night breeze of the summer. Everyone was here celebrating the recent mission, less people killed by titans and an increase in the titans being killed. That’s what it’s all about right? Until the next mission there’d most likely be some intense training so the plan was to try and have some fun while you still could.

“I’m surprised you’re with that lanky piece of shit. Out of everyone.” You heard from behind, not needing to look behind since you recognised the voice right away. He sat beside you, and you hummed questioningly.

“Tch don’t play dumb brat. Jean. The lanky horse-” you laughed and cut him off.

“I’m not with Jean. And it seems, someone was stalking me.” You smirk, speaking with the liquid confidence.

“I’m taking you back to headquarters. You’ve had too much to drink.” He rolled his eyes at you.

When you got back, one thing led to another and the next morning you were tangled in his sheets naked. Before you woke he left to make tea, except you woke while he was gone and assumed he’d just left. So you did too. And when he saw you were gone from his room he realised you might’ve thought it was a mistake. But he couldn’t blame you if you did.. he was older, there was a pretty big power dynamic and he came to the conclusion that is was for the good that he was alone. If he formed an emotional attachment there was always the chance he could lose you.

But you ignoring him? He didn’t like that. He tolerated 1 day of being ignored by you before he hollered you into his office and well.. let’s just say this time you were both sober when you did it.

After that you both said that it wouldn’t continue.. but it did. More often than not. You had fucked in his office, his room, your room, the stables, in the shower, in the forest and empty rooms. But as much as there was lust, there was sweet moments that were dates in disguise. Long talks, walks, rides, play fights, sparring in feilds and then having a picnic, slow dances and admiration. But hey what was more romantic than slaying titans together.

Back in the present.

“Cmon y/n, are you even trying?” Eren mocked as the two of you sparred, except you were thinking about the argument you’d had with him this morning.

So after a swift kick to the legs - which Levi taught you how to do - dropping him to the floor within seconds. And in that amount of time you’d began throwing punch after punch after punch. Poor eren. Too bad he underestimated you at a time like this.

“OKAY MISSY!!” Hange shouted in a high pitched voice as she grabbed the back of your arms and pulled you off of him. “You doin’ okay up there sweets?” She raised a brow moving closer to your face and tapping your head. You nodded and she rubbed your arm before you walked away.

Levi watched you the whole entire time.

Hange walked back over to where they sat. “You outta go get your girl short stack.” She smirked.

He went silent for a second, unsure of how to respond “what’re you talking about four eyes.”

“Oh don’t play dumb. I see that look in your eyes, I know you put up this cold front but seems as though she’s melting it down.” She readjusted her glasses “a little young but hmph! I get it. Better go get her before someone else does.”

“Tch. Shut up.” he abruptly stood up and followed in your footsteps.

Eventually catching up as he found you walking in the hq. “I told you to leave me alone” you frowned.

“I’m the one who gives orders around here brat.”

“Go boss around someone else then” you went to walk away and he grabbed your hand.

“No. You’re gonna stay and listen to me.” He began to get annoyed now. “And drop the attitude brat. You know i care, probably too much so quit acting like I don’t. I shouldn’t have pushed you away but I was trying to do what’s best for you. If I keep you to myself you don’t get a chance with any other guy your age.”

“But that’s my decision Levi, and I don’t want any other guy. I want you.” You interrupted, looking into his eyes. He now grabbed your face, and leaned closer “I didn’t say you could talk.” He then glided his thumb over your lower lip.

“It’s dangerous to live in a world like this.” Her brows lifted then caressed your jaw.

“I don’t care about that.” You batted your eyelashes up at him and he kissed you.

~

[ragnarockz]

Your stuff with Maya is so hot!! Would you be willing to do a Maya x fem!reader where they are all out at a bar and Matt and Sal both find reader attractive and are trying to see who can gain her attention and get her home. And Maya is also attracted to her and after watching them make asses of themselves she steps in and successfully takes reader from them and tells the guys they are fucking idiots and never stood a chance especially when she learns the only one reader wanted all night was Maya to begin with?? and then takes reader to her place and has her way with her?!?

GIVE ME SOME GRACE HERE WITH THIS ONE BECAUSE I HAVE ONLY EVER SHIED AWAY FROM WRITING CHARACTER X READER🥺💛🔒

ANYWAY! MAYA LOVES A CHALLENGE, DOES SHE NOT? 👀 And maybe you kinda sorta love her...for now 😈

You've been nursing your first drink for some time now as your boss orders another round. You blow out a loud exhale in annoyance as you scrunch your face before downing your glass. He's your boss and your uncle so you can't really ever complain to anyone. He gave you a pretty high end job that pays well as his personal assistant. You smile weakly as the bartender hands out another round; definitely their fifth and undoubtedly your second.

You don't see her but she sees you. Sitting at another table with Matt and Sal; she's been eyeing you as the two of them whisper that it's Todd McCoy at the bar with his group. Maya doesn't pay much attention to the chatter as she's more interested in keeping her eyes on what she hopes will be her prize for the night. It isn't until Sal bursts her bubble that you look over your shoulder at the commotion and eavesdrop a little into what they're whisper-yelling to one another.

"That's his PA; right? She's sitting on the edge? Dude, she's a smoke show!"

Sal whisper yells to Matt and Matt, adjusts his glasses before ducking his head closer down to the table.

"That's his niece or daughter or something like that. Just hired his own family I guess to keep whatever secrets close to his vest. Smart...he's got a lot of scandals swirling around him but no one fucking cares; he brings in the big money."

Maya scoffs as she crosses her arms over her chest; flicking her ponytail off of her shoulder. She's facing your direction and her eyes haven't left you yet.

"He's a fucking asshole. He calls me asking for favors all the time and I tell him where he can stick his fucking favors. He doesn't even let her do her job! But, shit..."

Their whispers get lower and out of earshot and you can no longer hear what they're saying but now the three of them are all looking in your direction and the looks on their faces are telling.

It's some sort of challenge or game; some sort of determination and one upping each other. Who's dick is the biggest? Who can pull the strings? Who can rise to the top? The two men were bickering back and forth but Maya was cool and collected and soaked you in for as long as she could.

You turn your attention back to the bar as you know that they know you've been staring at them just as they've been staring at you. Pushing your drink away, you take your phone out from your pocket and mindlessly scroll through your favorite app. It doesn't take long for you to see some posts about Matt Remick and his indulgent Kool-Aid up and coming movie. Associated, of course, are Sal and Maya. You quickly glance around you as your thumb and pointer touch the screen to blow the photo up and get a better look at her.

Even though she's literally sitting behind you a few tables over.

Even though she's literally walking right up to you and you don't even notice until it's too late and you hear your Uncle's loud voice greeting her with nothing but sarcasm and backhanded compliments.

"Look who the cat dragged in! I see you and Remick and Saperstein are poaching in on our celebration...how obvious of you!"

He extends his hand to Maya who, doesn't take it. Instead, she gives him a half-baked smile that looks more like a grimace. She shoots a quick glance in your direction before she opens her mouth to reply; spitting nothing but venom out.

"Funny...wouldn't mark this as a celebration, looks more like a fucking funeral. Jesus...everyone looks fucking miserable, Todd. What did you do? Offer to cut them loose if they didn't show up here? God! And what? You dragged her into this too?"

She points her thumb back over her shoulder in your direction and makes you focus on her. The way her ponytail is perfect hanging behind her; her outfit looks like it peeled right out from a magazine. Her face; her expressions. She cold and calculated and undeniably really fucking hot. You slowly tuck your phone away just in case she catches a glance of what you've been looking at before she walked over here. Her. And before that? Also her.

God, you think to yourself as you bite your bottom lip, you're down bad for Maya Mason.

"Anyway, Todd...nice talking to you, as always. Next time you have a marketing question, ask your niece to call me instead of you. Isn't that her job? If not, we can always get her in with Continental. Scrub her name out from under yours..."

You swore your Uncle went white in the face as she chuckled nervously and brushed Maya off without a word, turning back to the members of your party. She nods her head, another win under her belt before she licks her lips and looks at you.

"We have an empty seat at our table if you'd rather join a real fucking party and not whatever the fuck your lame ass Uncle is trying to pull..."

And she leaves it at that as she walks away, leaving you to decide. It takes less than a second for you to slip off of the bar stool and follow at her heels. You sit yourself down at the empty spot between Maya and Sal with Matt across with you. You're familiar with them all; having been in the industry for so long all of these people are a little more than acquaintances.

The table goes quiet and you can feel the air shift between the four of you; going back to that low-level of whisper they had been engaging in earlier. The game has started and you wonder what it is.

Matt starts first; rambling on quickly about how he could use a new PA and your expertise and knowledge is perfect for him; perfect for Continental. It makes Maya roll her eyes and scoff as she shakes her head; basically kicking Matt from under the table.

You sit there with a pained smile on your face and wish it was Maya saying these things; wishing it was her asking you to be her personal assistant. You can only dream as Sal interjects Matt to now ramble on about executive challenges that he believes you can lend a hand in.

Maya loudly interjects as she reaches beside you to put her hand over yours which has been resting on your lap. You feel a warm shiver creep up your spine with the proximity of her. You can smell her perfume and almost feel her shirt touching your arm. You hold your breath.

"Fuck these two and fuck your lame ass funeral...how about we go to a real fucking party, just us? Just the girls?"

You feel like a trance has been put over you as you slowly nod your head and a small smile creeps onto your lips. She mimics you as she nods her head as well and matches the smile. You notice there's a look in her eye; a known feeling that she won whatever this was. Her smile turns hungry and you notice it but don't give it a second thought. Her hand still over yours she clutches it to pull you up and out of your seat to lead you out of the bar and into the waiting car parked outside.

She ushers you into the back seat and follows close behind you, basically sitting on top of you as she gets herself in and slams the car door closed.

"Those losers can find another ride home. Fuck them...thinking they were going to fucking win over me...pathetic..."

The rest of the car ride is quiet but you can feel the tension building between you and Maya. She found your hand with hers again and held it; clutched it tightly. She started making little circles with her thumb in the soft fold between your own thumb and pointer finger. She felt warm and cool at the same time. You could hear her breathing get more ragged, unhinged the closer you got to her place.

You knew what was coming and you had already accepted it the second you sat down at their table at the bar. You knew what the game was the second you felt Maya's gaze on you. And, you knew, exactly what the prize for winning such game was: you.

You barely make it into Maya's foyer before she gets you up against the door of what you quickly assume is a closet. You feel her hands ripping and pulling and dragging off your clothes in a hurried frenzy. Like she's starving, dying of thirst. Like the only thing she needs to survive is you and you alone. And you let her because, fuck, in this moment, who wouldn't? You moan loudly into her mouth when her lips collide with yours and you sink a little lower against the door as her hands find their way in between your legs and groping your breast.

You let her. She uses you.

You can barely make out anything in the darkened foyer with the shaded glass of her home. Obviously for privacy so peeping toms and paparazzi aren't sneaking peaks into her home at all hours. But a slight change of light from outside gives you the opportunity to see a shape or, maybe even a shadow, of something between her legs when she desperately pulls her own pants down and kicks them off from her ankles.

You feel it before you even get a chance to really see it. Cool and smooth with slight ridges that tease at your folds which are, without a doubt, slick from her hands and just honestly from her. As bold and brassy as Maya Mason was and known to be, you did not expect her to be packing out in public. Especially, with Sal and Matt by her side. Maybe they knew her better than you and the tabloids did but fuck, what did that matter now as your breath hitches in your throat. She was just inches away from filling you up with her cock.

She pushes you against the door and this time, fills you up with herself. You feel yourself stretch to take her cock; as much as your body allows and then some. The tip hits your cervix already and you moan in delight. You want more; you're begging for it and you very quickly realize, that's her favorite thing in the world.

To have someone beg for her.

She's rough and quick and fast. She's loud and messy and nothing comes out from her mouth but 'fuck' and 'shit' and 'jesus fucking christ'. You can barely keep your head on straight as your eyes slam shut and your head snaps forward and you focus on the relentless pounding of her cock up inside of you. You can feel the silicone warm and then become hot; your own wetness making it easier for her to fuck you. You're on the brink of orgasm; you can feel it. That hot pull in your lower abdomen; the pressure waiting to be released. Your little moans and whines and breaths hitch up in your throat and you can swear she's calling you a 'good girl' and a 'pretty fucking thing' and then...

It all comes crashing down around you.

You cum and she, pulls right out.

A wail escapes your lips as you bend forward; trying to catch yourself from your knees buckling. You can hear the smirk on her face that you can't see. It was really all some game. Just some quick fuck in her house up on some hill in Hollywood. You can sense she's trying not to laugh as you hear the shuffling of fabric as she scoops up her pants and pulls them back on. The zipper is deafening; like a gunshot ringing out.

"I'll call you a cab, Sweet Thing...you'll be home before the sun comes back up over those fucking hills. It was nice meeting you, by the way...maybe we'll run into one another again."

Your heart hammers away in your chest as you hear her footsteps and then the front door opening once again. She is literally standing there holding the door open for you to get your shit and get the fuck out.

[wonderlandwalker]

Nurse Nightingale | James Potter x Reader

Marauders Masterlist / Taglist / Inbox

Summary: Someone wakes you up in the middle of the night, when you realize it's James looking for help you don't have the heart to refuse him

Content Warnings/Tags: fluff, blood, bruising, cuts, mentions of violence, insinuations of smut

Word Count: 1k

A/n: I'm currently using the uni holiday as an excuse not to study so now I'm writing non-stop instead. Not quite smut but sorta if you're willing to squint

*Knock knock*

You turn around, looking at the clock on the bedside table. Who the hell is knocking on the door at 3 AM?

*Knock knock*

You turn onto your stomach, pushing your pillow over your head in an attempt to block out the noise.

*Knock knock*

It’s louder this time, more determined, and you hear someone speak: “Y/N, it’s me. Please let me in.” He’s rambling a bit, he sounds tired as well. A shiver goes through your body at hearing his voice, his voice always seems to mess with your head in a way nothing else can.

“What are you doing here James? It’s 3 AM.” You ask, through the still closed door, your voice dripping with sleep. “Just, please, open the door..” He sounds desperate this time, so you decide to do what he asks. You stand up, maybe a little too fast, making your head spin, and walk towards the door. You open it, meaning to step aside to let him in, but when you see him illuminated by the hallway, you freeze. He’s bleeding, a cut starting at his nose and going diagonally underneath his eye, he’s straightened his glasses but there's a crack in them, another bruise at his temple, one on his lips, those soft lips you always think about, even a bruise below his ear on his cheek masking his jawline. “What in Merlin’s name happened to you?” You hear yourself whisper, more at yourself than him. “It’s nothing..” he slures out “.. just wanted to see you.” You move aside to let him into the empty room and he takes the opportunity, walking towards the bed, but not before grabbing you by your waist and giving you a quick, but passionate kiss. He takes you by surprise with it, your mind still trying to wrap around what happened, and your body falls into him, making him hiss from the cut on his upper lip, but he doesn't seem to want to stop regardless.

He sits down on your bed when he breaks the kiss, and you turn on the bedside lamp to get a better look at him. Small bruises are forming on his arms, and his muscles seem strained, his exhausted body melting into the bedding.

“Lay down, I’ll be right back.” you mumble at him before moving to the other side of your room where you left your wand. After a little searching, you find it, but with how tired you are, you’re not sure how much you trust yourself with it. You remember the small first aid kit in your bathroom, and move to get it before making your way back to James.

You see him struggling to take his jumper off, and move over to help him with it. Once it’s off he moves to lie down, and you put some extra pillows under his head, making him sit up a little more before pouring the sterilizer on a towel. You look over at him again, and wonder about how you’re going to do this, when you see him stretch his arm out to you. You take his hand and he pulls you onto his lap, making you straddle him and giving me the perfect position to patch him up.

You look at his chest, covered in blooming bruises, and when the towel hits the few open wounds, he groans a little, instinctively moving his hands to your hips to ground himself. His eyes are closed, and even though he looks like he should be in pain, he seems relaxed.

He stays quiet the whole time, only the occasional hiss or groan leaving him. And when you’re done, having put everything back in its proper place, he asks you silently: “Can I please stay over” “Of course you can, I’m not letting you wander back in this state.” you tell him while moving to lie down beside him. He doesn’t seem satisfied though, and pulls you in even closer.

After a few more minutes of silence, you ask him: “Jamie, what the hell happened to you..?” “It’s, it’s nothing, really, just-" He seems a little hesitant, so you wait for him to continue. “There, there were these guys…” He sounds a little angry, but you still don’t know what he’s talking about. “Do you remember the party that was going on, earlier tonight?” “Of course I do.” you tell him. You had gotten tired early, and decided to head to bed while the others stayed a while longer. “Well, turns out some of the Slytherins had noticed you, and they were talking about you.” He seems even angrier now, you remember this look, it’s similar to the look he got when he lost the Quidditch house cup, except this seems more personal somehow. “They were talking about you, telling their stuck-up friends all the things he would do to you- calling you names and saying how he-” you see him clench his fists, his knuckles turning white. “He was telling them how he would-, bloody hell, I can’t even get it out of my mouth. But I couldn’t stand it anymore, so I, well, I may have punched him.” “You did what?” you ask him, not fully wanting to believe what he’s telling you. Sure, he get detention often enough, but never for fist fights, he doesn't get in fist fights. “I punched him, and I got into a fight with him and his friends.” The hesitance is back now, replacing his anger. “I’m sorry y/n, but I couldn’t stand him saying those kinds of things about you.” You smile a little, and he looks confused. “You got into a fight to defend my honour, Potter?” Your smile only growing. He only nods and you don’t hesitate to lean in, kissing him softly. You can still taste the blood on his tongue, but you don’t care, and he doesn’t seem to either.

You shift over, and he pulls you in to straddle his lap once again. You give him a quiet “I love you” in between kisses. He doesn’t need to say it back this time, his actions having spoken louder than words.

[tawked]

I know we're all real big "read the comics" fans here but, considering the show is now 32 years old and many people in the Batman fandom might not know about it -

if you do not want to read the comics, might I recommend the massively acclaimed Batman animated series from the 90s instead?

Seriously, room-temperature take: it's better than what was going on in the comics at the time.

DCAU Batman: kind, empathetic but still troubled and a little self-centered at times. He understands even scary dangerous mentally ill people are not beyond help and that what they really need is support and care. He actively tries to resolve every conflict with a minimal of violence and brutality, with stories often focusing on detective work in a pulpy noir atmosphere, or the clever use of a tactic relevant to a bad man's gimmick. Every character is consistent and has a clear, coherent vision. There is exactly one profoundly stupid retcon and it's in an extremely skippable bottle episode of another show (Justice League Unlimited, and the retcon relates to Batman Beyond, the Wise Man's Favourite Batman). Respects women (here to take back the night, for her). Loves his gay sons and daughter. Does not turn his car into a murder tank to shoot people with.

90s comics Batman: violent asshole who is mean to everybody because idk Denny O'Neil thinks that's what autism or PTSD or whatever is. Makes absurdly stupid fucking decisions that later need to be retconned into making sense and even then they rely on everybody else being an inconsistent nonsense character. Launches into monologues about how it'd be super easy if he could just kill people, especially those incurable freak scoundrels at the crazy people prison more often than you would think. Truly horribly mean to women (Huntress and Spoiler especially) in a way that is simply beyond the norm of the genre at the time. Relentlessly weird and abusive in "my dad never hugged me" ways toward his ever-growing collection of sometimes dead children. Constantly turning his car into a murder tank to shoot people with.

This show is not an adaptation of the comics (though some individual issues are adapted or reworked), but if you just specify you're writing about or discussing DCAU Batman, people are pretty chill and in my experience will actively tell you about specific issues or TPBs that relate to the show. Other than that, it's just an extremely solid, accessible version of Batman, and the version of the character most people remember / care about when they criticize mean asshole comic book Batman for being "out of character" (even though comic book Batman has kinda sorta been that way since Crisis).

The same is basically true of Superman. His DCAU series has less of a reputation but is honestly crazy underrated. Best version of Lois Lane and Jimmy Olsen.

The Justice League cartoon, a sequel to both series, will also introduce you to a bunch of mainstay DC characters, albeit usually pretty far-removed from their own stories and exclusively in a team context. The only major outliers are The Question, Wonder Woman (kinda) and Martian Manhunter, who were basically 100% rewritten for the show. Even then if you just specify you mean the DCAU versions of these characters people will get it, the shows used to be more popular than the comics in the 90s.

This will also sneakily onboard you to the Zeta Project and you will learn, albeit indirectly, who the most insufferable kids in like 2002 were. Seriously, I sound insane telling children this now, but Ro's design was like... the rosetta stone for shit Deviantart anime OCs for a whole five years or so.

The watching order I'd recommend is:

Batman: Mask of the Phantasm.

Batman: The Animated Series.

Superman: The Animated Series.

Batman & Mr. Freeze: SubZero.

The New Batman Adventures.

Batman: Mystery of the Batwoman.

Justice League.

Justice League Unlimited.

Batman Beyond.

Batman: Return of the Joker (the only Tim Drake story I like lol).

The Zeta Project (severely optional).

I'd place Static Shock somewhere before Justice League Unlimited, personally, but you can move that one around as you please. There's some jank to it because it wasn't originally going to be part of the DCAU, but then come season two they started incorporating little crossovers and nods.

Batman & Harley Quinn and Justice League vs. the Furious Five are also in continuity but I pretend I do not see the Harley Quinn farts in the batmobile and fucks Nightwing movie, and have not actually seen the Furious Five movie.

Easy, simple, no fuss no muss. Batman is the only character to appear in every single show (albeit not every episode, obviously), so he serves as kind of a connecting throughline for the "Timmverse."

A lot of these shows are on Netflix and I mean, y'know, just pirate them, it's not like Warner Bros. needs more money lol.

Other recommendations:

Super Friends - no bullshit. It's aged pretty horribly, especially the animation, but I kid you not, this show genuinely captures what golden age superhero stories and especially Batman feels like. Not at all remotely character-driven (but neither were 90% of the comics), instead centered 100% around very badly animated action. I fucking love it. It will teach you how the idea of Batman worked before he was Gotham's dark moody emo prince. I don't recommend watching all of Super Friends, there is a lot of it, but there's value in just blasting through a couple eps. The benefit here is that they tinker with the format and line-up every season so if you do find yourself enjoying that 1970s American cartoon style of storytelling, they do keep it kind of fresh.

The Batman - that is, the 2004 series. Hated on arrival for not being more Timmverse DCAU stuff. Some of the most creative direction in villain and action design the franchise has ever had, but like, everybody in this show is a kung fu fighter when that is extremely not the case in the comics lol. Will demonstrate Batman as a pulp scifi detective, and how his stories can work when he's an isolated character. Plays hard into the idea of empathy for some villains, and provides most villains with pretty human motives. Downplays Batman as mentally ill and makes his Bruce Wayne persona, uh... more "relatable" to kids in the mid-2000s lol. Doesn't really supplement comic book canon but if you want to see how concepts can be stretched and adapted for fanfiction purposes, this is an invaluable show.

Batman - The Brave & The Bold. Captures the vibe of the wider DC universe during the 1950s - 1970s, with a lot of fun modern characters reworked into a silver age vibe and aesthetic. Very lighthearted and silly, but feels like if Gardner Fox were around today he'd fuck with it hard. Not a replacement for comics that people actually read and discuss in the tumblr fandom, but will introduce you to a range of characters, some of whom are actually pretty obscure, in an extremely digestible format. Has a bad, Teen Titans Go esque habit of responding to reddit fan criticisms in the Bat-Mite episodes, but those are paradoxically some of the most solid shit in the show.

[bloodyinkandquill]

Ban Hammer x Reader

it is two am, istg do not write on this until the morning me, i will hate you i have to be up in five hours let’s go to bed

ok i didn’t write this but i did stay up another hour and a half listening to a true crime podcast so…

- You’d think dating a 6’11 demigod who owns the most secure prison in Inpherno would not be on someone’s to-do list, but for you it was different, you knew him more than just the fearsome warden, to you he was your lover and honestly, a bit of a big softy

- Ban Hammer was big, he knew that, really strong too, so he was more than just a little afraid of hurting you, especially if he had his big and sharp armor on, he liked being physically affectionate, but he did worry about hurting you, so he’d wait until he’d taken off his armor you hug you, which did sort of feel like being swallowed whole since he’s such a large man, but it felt safe and warm so you never minded it

- He was gruff and tough but after a long day he enjoyed just laying face down the couch as you stroked his head pulling it to rest on your lap, he’d just lie there as you tried to convince him to get up, take off his armor, get some water, etc, he’d grumble about it but eventually get up

- Hope you like golf, he loves taking you to go golf, he’d never admit this but it’s mostly because when he does good you tell him how great of a shot he was and other junk like that and he enjoyed the praise, if you didn’t like golf he wouldn’t mind you sitting back as long as you were there together, and you were paying attention to him, he may be your boyfriend but he’s very clingy like a puppy, he also loved receiving praise from you, he already thinks very highly of himself but hearing you say those things feels even better to him

- He’d probably take you on very fancy dinner dates, to those really nice restaurants, though you have to make the reservations because he can be a little high strung and will demand certain things like a good seat, or a discount, so to avoid him getting mad at some poor waitress you make them for the both of you

- Like mentioned he’s super cuddly and snuggly, he loves just holding you as he sleeps, or sitting very close to you to the point he’s practically on top of you, you sometimes have to tell him that’s he’s crushing you, he moves immediately and feels bad, you tell him it’s fine but how about you sit on him instead

- Unironically uses sorta cheesy pet names, you’d expect him to be more creative with it but I feel like he’d use ‘baby, babe, sweetheart, etc’ though something funny he does is he has his voice and then his warden voice, loud and commanding to demand respect and fear, sometimes he forgets to turn it off when he gets home so he gets home and says in a gruff unamused voice ‘babe i’m home!’ to the point it sounds sorta angry, you crack up and he clears his throat before saying it snot that funny, as you’re doubling over in laughter

- The first time you met Windforce was terrifying, he loved you but he loved his mom more, if she said she didn’t like you that would be it, and if you pissed her off you feared her wrath, luckily she thought you were fine, obviously she has a distaste for mortals but you make her boy happy so she puts up with you, maybe not fully liking you but she doesn’t mind you, as long as you don’t annoy her she doesn’t care

- Thought meeting Windforce was scary? One time Ban Hammer said his whole family was having a dinner party, Firebrand organized it trying to keep the family all together and connected, and Ban Hammer wanted to bring you to meet all his uncles and few cousins, you didn’t wanna say no but holy shit you were terrified, you were about to meet literally the entirety of the SFotH, which was definitely intimidating, luckily they all at the very least didn’t dislike you, and you got to meet Flipside which was cool, but holy shit when you go home you let out the biggest breath ever since you were so on edge the whole time

hope you enjoyed! had fun writing it and thinking of all this junk, anyways до свидания!

[jesswritesthat]

love your writing!! can i request a kuroo x an introverted reader? so they would be very similar to kenma in that, how would kuroo handle two so different personalities to his? thank you so muchh

Thank you!! Also I appreciate the request too - I shall do my best with these, hope you like.

>>>>——————————>

Kuroo Tetsurō with an Introvert Headcanons:

• Kuroo is generally good with a range of people anyway, and growing up with Kenma meant he has an in-depth understanding of introverts.

• So when you come along he’s naturally his friendly self even if you practically run away. He’s left standing there with his hand up to call out to you and a surprised look soon turning into an embarrassed smile.

• With time though, and patience he manages to get conversations going with you around school and isn’t upset he had to initiate them since he wants to get to know you and all.

• Kuroo is practically beaming when you start one with him though, he has to resist the urge to tease you about it, but remains really happy.

• Yourself and Kenma seem to have this telepathic understanding however, conversing with looks or hums of acknowledgement to the point Nekoma are sorta baffled.

“What— what was that?”

“They’re going to grab drinks from the vending machine, they’ll be back shortly.” The captain answers nonchalantly despite everyone being mildly confused with yours and Kenmas’ joint disappearance.

“They didn’t even say anything!”

“They did, you weren’t paying attention - get back to received.” Yeah, Kuroo has learned the language through observation.

• Tetsurō is likely very honoured when you become close enough to see him as a trusted person and will try and build that by making your life a little easier where he can.

• Tired of people? No worries, let’s evacuate. Anxiety? Gotcha covered. Bored or feeling off? Teasing until you smile - even if slightly annoying, he lives for it.

• Like Kenma, he will drag you two along if the situations calls for it. The two of sighing painfully in each of Kuroos’ hands whilst he’d taking you god knows where.

“Tetsurōōō.”

“Don’t Tetsurō me, neither of you can skip this.”

“Ugh.”

• Secretly, you’re self and Kenma will admit you’re grateful for the scheming bedhead, despite rarely telling him that (if ever) but you think you give it away more with the soft smiles you give him. The ones that melt him a little inside.

• Loves that his friends get along, and feels comforted knowing Kenma and you have got someone similar to talk to. He might miss out on spending time with you because of this sometimes, but despite his playful whining about it he encourages you to step out of your comfort zone.

• However he also respects The Comfort Zone™. If you’re not feeling up to anything, he’ll gladly compromise to suit your needs - and is of course appreciative if you do the same for him.

“Alright, how about a movie day instead?”

“But… you wanted to go to the museum…”

“It should still be standing next week, we’ll aim for an off-peak time if that helps.” He offers you a proud smirk, one that tells you he’s at ease with this.

“Thanks Tetsurō. Please pick the first film then, and I’ll get some snacks.”

• It’s not perfect of course, he can be a little persistent with his sense of adventure and even though it’s in good faith of wanting to take you to new places and experience things with you - it can be overwhelming. But after discussing your feelings you’re both able to reach understandings on these matters.

• Overall Kuroo can be introverted himself at times, and understands what you experience due to putting in the time to get to know you and Kenma. If there is anything amiss he’ll want to work through it, it’s just very healthy and comforting. A safe space~

<——————————<<<<

[ Masterlist ]

[vixensbrainrotts]

Ran fucked up

Summary: so you found out that Ran is sorta-kinda using you for information, money and material for Tenjiku and took revenge before the damage was too heavy. Come the time when Ran was supposed to display results, he has some explaining to do…

Tropes: Tenjiku! Arc

Content warnings: none really, this time around its just kinda cracky, implied intentional accidents i guess? Idk let me know if there’s anything

Vixen’s two cents: I saw that prompt and JUMPED on the opportunity cause i had a silly little idea (lets pretend im not writing this in my theory of evolution lecture right now). This is such a funny prompt to me, I hope you enjoy. Prompt taken from @the-cypress-grove - prompt 131 (thank youuuuu) Remember that my requests are open if you have any ideas!

Rindou has never seen his older brother this nervous- actually, this is the first time he’s seen him nervous, ever. The man in question was pacing (to the best of his efforts) restlessly, and it was driving Rin insane. „It‘s your fault, you know?“ Rindou quipped from where he was sitting. „And you’re not fucking helping. Izana is going to rip me apart, if i survive Kakucho that is.“ Ran mutters more to himself than to his brother.

Rolling his eyes, Rindou decides that he has to take control of the situation. „Come on Ran, its best to get it over with fast, perhaps they’ll pity you because of your… state right now.“ Rindou makes his way to the door, shrugging on a cardigan and taking the keys out of the little dish by the door. The look that Ran gives him almost ignites a little bit of pity in Rindou. Almost.

20 minutes later the two of them are standing in front of the place of meeting and Ran is sweating bullets. „Come on..“ Rindou drawled again. Offended, Ran throws him a look „You’re not the one who’s about to get mauled.“ Ran crows in slight pain, but Rindou spared no sympathy, „Your fault.“ Rindou was the first to enter the area donning the heavenly kings‘s presence. He silently greet his colleagues with a curt wave, but felt a little puzzled when he didn’t receive one in return. The confused looks on their faces were almost comedic before Rindou noticed the distinct lack of brother by his side.

Rindou heaved a sigh and half-turns to face the entrance again, gesturing to the door for the Heavenly Kings to see. „He‘s coming, don’t worry.“ He assured and trudged on towards his place.

„Sit down Haitani.“ a sharp voice pierced the air as Izana spoke. A shiver ran down Rindou‘s spine, and all of a sudden he understood his brother‘s fear: Izana was scary as such, and blatantly terrifying when disappointed. Quickly, Rindou took a seat beside Mochi. Silence reigned after that. Not a word was spoken, not a breath was taken whilst they waited for Ran to enter.

Finally the tension broke when Ran walked through the door, his head low and limping slightly. „Were ya roughed up or something?“ Shion was the first to speak. „Well..“ Ran sounded a bit defeated as his voice trailed off, remaining standing at a respectable distance. „You’re here. And late at that.“, Izana‘s voice freezes the air as he speaks, „I hope for your sake that your little project proves to be as useful as you made it sound.“ Ran tries very hard to look anywhere but the Kings, instead trying to make eye-contact with his brother, but Rindou only raises his hands slightly in surrender and shoots him a look that says you brought yourself into this mess, im not gonna help you on this one.

„Do tell Ran. How‘s your little girlfriend doing, hm? Are you treating her well? Is the good service paying off? She give you somethin‘ yet?“ Shion has the gall to poke at Ran, stacking questions on him in a singsong tone. Despite the almost joking nature of the questions, they hang heavy in the air.

„I don’t think she likes me all that much right now.“ Ran finally says.

„What makes you think that?“ Kakucho is the one to speak this time, noticing Izana's annoyance and grasping the reigns of the conversation. Whilst he sounds genuinely concerned, Kakucho‘s half-blind eye does nothing to make Ran feel more comfortable, as he visibly shrinks beneath his gaze.

„She founded out.“ Ran breaks the news in a whisper, and the air around them changes into something much more alive, and much more electric. „What.“ Kakucho‘s voice is loud in stark contrast.

„She hit me with her car.“ Ran shrinks even further into himself when the guys surrounding him laugh. „Clever Girl!“ Shion quips between heaves of laughter, bracing himself against an also-snickering-Mucho who adds „What if it was an accident?“. Ran only shakes his head, face and neck ablaze with red as he puffs himself up against the humiliation. „She looked me dead in the eye and reversed!“ Laughter bounces off the walls once again.

[matt-murdockk]

hi hi hi writing request if you're up for it: can i get a neal caffrey x reader where they're undercover posing as a couple and things get too real too quick? fluffy angsty whatever, full creative liberty. thank you x -🌻

anon i would love to

This ain't the Chelsea hotel

pairing: neal caffrey x fem!reader words: 4.3k song: I'm writing this inspired by ttpd as you can tell, specifically the lyric "At dinner, you take my ring off my middle finger And put it on the one people put wedding rings on And that's the closest I've come to my heart exploding" summary: an undercover mission brings up some unresolved feelings a/n: this is sorta inspired by johnny and dora from Brooklyn 99, and there's sort of an angst ending i am sorry but it will get better soon i promise

"Neal and (Y/n), you’re going in as a couple.”

Peter’s voice was calm, authoritative, as if he’d just assigned them to file paperwork instead of infiltrating a high-society gala crawling with millionaires, con artists, and, somewhere in the crowd, an international art thief.

(Y/n) froze, mid-sip of her coffee. “I'm sorry, what now?”

Neal, of course, leaned back in his chair, smirk firmly in place. “I mean, it makes sense. Look at us—irresistible charm, devastating good looks—who wouldn’t buy it?”

“You forgot insufferable ego,” she shot back, slamming her cup on the table. It was aggravating to be around Neal Caffrey, and she’d be lying if she said she didn’t love every second of it.

Peter held up a hand, cutting off the argument before it could spiral. “Enough. You’re the best fit for this assignment. The mark likes power couples, people who look like they’ve got secrets. Neal’s the smooth-talking art expert, and (Y/n)—you’ll play his fiancée, a curator from an old-money family.”

(Y/n) groaned, glaring at Peter. “You know this is going to go to his head.”

“Oh, absolutely,” Peter said dryly. “But you’ll manage. You always do.”

Neal turned to her, his smirk widening. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll go easy on you.”

"That's okay baby, I can handle you." No, she can't. This could end badly.

"Oooh, competition? you're gonna lose, you, know?"

"Hey, if I'm going down, I'm taking you down with me, Caffrey."

"Right, and one last thing. (Y/n), try not to fall in love with me."

"Won't be a problem."

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

"And you're promising, that this is strictly work?"

"I swear, Moz! It's not like that," Neal replied, pacing the length of his apartment, the small box in his hand feeling heavier than it had any right to.

"It's hard to believe that when you're holding a real diamond ring in your hand," Mozzie argued, incredulous about Neal's intentions in this case.

"It's for authenticity"

"Right, because the suspect would definitely notice if she wore a cheap American zirconia."

"Mozzie. It's not like that."

"I believe you"

"I don't think you do."

Mozzie didn’t respond, simply giving Neal a pointed look before taking a long sip of his wine.

Neal let out a sigh, his grip on the box tightening. He was done trying to convince Mozzie, who always had a knack for cutting to the heart of things Neal would rather not think about. Because as much as he repeated the words it was just for the case, a nagging voice in the back of his mind whispered that maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t.

His gaze dropped to the ring, the glint of the diamond catching the light. It was just for authenticity. No ulterior motives.

Right?

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

"Alright. The moment we enter that room we're on high alert. Peter and the team are in the surveillance van two blacks away to remain inconspicuous. He's usually after wealthy power couple types so we need to be really convincing. Got it?"

“Uh-huh. Yes,” Neal replied, nodding a little too quickly. His words were automatic, half-hearted at best, because his attention was decidedly elsewhere.

She looked stunning—more than stunning, really, though he would never admit it outright. The soft glint in her eyes caught the streetlights at just the right angle, making them sparkle for a fleeting moment before fading again. The dress she wore was elegant, understated, but perfectly fitted to the role they were about to play. Neal found himself momentarily mesmerized, the lines between the act and reality blurring just a bit more than they should have.

(Y/n) shot him a suspicious glance. “Neal. Focus.”

“Totally focused,” he said, his trademark grin sliding into place to cover the fact that he had absolutely not been paying attention to anything she’d just said.

She narrowed her eyes at him, but after a beat, she turned back toward the building looming ahead. “You’d better be. The second we step into that gala, we’re in character, and I’m not carrying this assignment on my own.”

“Of course not,” Neal quipped, following her lead, his voice taking on the smooth confidence he wore so well. “I’ll be the perfect fiancé. You’ll swoon. Just wait.”

She shook her head in surrender and walked towards the door before she felt a delicate hand pull at her wrist.

"Wait, I almost forgot," he said, taking out the velvet box that made his pocket weigh heavier than it should have.

"What?" she asked, completely oblivious.

"This," he said, flipping it open to reveal the princess-cut diamond ring inside. The sharp sparkle caught the light between them, but it was nothing compared to the flash of surprise in her eyes.

Her lips parted slightly, but no sound came out.

He swallowed, his heartbeat thrumming loudly in his ears as he took her left hand in his, the warmth of her skin making him falter for just a moment. His fingers brushed hers, gentle but deliberate, as he slid the ring onto her finger.

No break in eye contact.

Her gaze locked with his, questioning, searching, unsteady. The seconds stretched long, heavy with something unspoken, as his thumb brushed against the band, settling it into place.

Still no break.

The moment lingered, charged, as if the world had shrunk to just the two of them under the streetlight. His breath hitched, his confidence—usually so bulletproof—wavering under the weight of how utterly real this felt.

Neal shifted, suddenly nervous, but he didn’t step back. His eyes flicked to her lips, then back up to meet hers again, the line between fiction and reality blurring with dizzying speed.

Finally, he broke the silence with a soft, almost uncertain laugh, a hint of tension bleeding into his words. “For authenticity, right?”

(Y/n) blinked, the spell broken. Her lips curved into a small smile, but her voice was quieter than usual when she replied. “Right. Authenticity.”

But neither of them moved for a moment longer, caught in the fallout of something they couldn’t quite name. If this was just pretend, why did it feel so real?

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

They entered the grand ballroom arm-in-arm, the weight of their roles pressing against them. Neal’s hand rested lightly at the small of (Y/n)’s back, his touch electric even through the layers of fabric.

“You’re tense,” he whispered, lips brushing her ear, sending shivers down her spine. She instinctively closed her eyes and let it linger before remembering she had to respond.

“You try wearing a dress and pretending to be in love with you all evening,” she shot back, her voice sweetened by a practiced smile for the benefit of their audience.

Neal leaned closer, the humor in his tone giving way to something deeper. “You’d be surprised how easy that could be.”

"The dress or-"

"The last part. Obviously the last part."

"Just making sure," she responded, stifling a laugh. Remembering why they were here in the first place, she quickly scanned the room, she found their mark in the middle of the dance floor.

"Neal, 2'o clock, dance floor."

"Yeah, I see him. You ready?"

"Do, I have an option?"

Neal extended his hand, a devilish glint in his eyes as he slipped seamlessly into his role. “In that case, (Y/n), may I have this dance?”

(Y/n) smirked just for a moment, his outstretched hand a reminder of the precarious game they were playing. She placed her hand in his, his fingers warm and steady as they led her toward the dance floor. “Let’s get ourselves a criminal,” she replied, trying to keep her voice steady.

The music swelled, slow and haunting, wrapping around them as Neal’s hand slid to her waist. His fingers pressed against the fabric of her dress, firm but careful, like he was afraid to break something fragile. His other hand cradled hers, his thumb brushing the back of her hand with maddening lightness.

“You’re holding on a little tight there, don’t you think?” she teased softly, her voice catching when his eyes locked on hers, warm and unflinching.

“Just making sure you don’t get away,” he replied, his words playful, but his tone laced with something heavier.

They moved in sync, the world around them dimming until it felt like the music existed just for them. Each step brought her closer, the space between them dissolving until her chest almost brushed against his. His breath was warm against her temple, and her head tilted slightly, just enough for her to catch the faint, intoxicating scent of his cologne.

“You’re good at this,” he murmured, his voice barely audible.

“It’s just part of the job,” she whispered back, though her words wavered under the intensity of his gaze.

“Right,” he said, his hand slipping a fraction lower on her waist. “Just the job.”

Her pulse quickened as his fingers tightened slightly, drawing her closer still. Their faces were mere inches apart now, his eyes flicking to her lips for the briefest of moments before returning to hers. The tension between them was almost unbearable, charged and unspoken.

(Y/n) swore he was about to say something—something real, something that would tip this balance they always stalled on—but his gaze shifted over her shoulder.

“(Y/n),” he said abruptly, his tone cooling as his eyes fixed on something behind her.

(Y/n) blinked, the spell breaking as she followed his line of sight. Their mark stood on the edge of the dance floor, watching them with quiet intensity.

“He’s noticed us,” Neal said, his hand loosening its hold on her waist.

“Good,” she replied, her voice steadier than she felt. “That’s the idea.”

And just like that, they were back in the game, palpable tension vanishing into thin air.

As the song came to an end, the mark stepped toward them with his date, a woman dripping in diamonds and disdain.

“Charming performance,” the mark said smoothly, offering a practiced smile. “You two must be new faces around here.”

“Guilty as charged,” Neal said with a grin, slipping effortlessly into his persona. “We’ve just been admiring the company.”

“Why don’t you join us on the rooftop?” the mark offered, gesturing toward the glass doors that led to a private terrace. “It’s quieter. Easier to talk.”

Neal and (Y/n) exchanged a quick glance before following. On the way, Neal caught her glancing at her hand, her thumb brushing lightly over the diamond ring he had slipped on earlier.

“Admiring your fiancé’s taste, sweetheart?” he teased under his breath, his voice tinged with both humor and something sharper.

(Y/n) jerked her gaze away, her cheeks warming. “Just making sure it looks convincing,” she muttered, but the way her hand lingered over the ring betrayed her words.

Neal leaned closer, his smirk softening. “It looks perfect. You look perfect.”

The heat in her cheeks deepened, but before she could respond, the doors opened, and the crisp night air swept over them. They stepped onto the terrace, the stakes of their mission suddenly more palpable than ever.

The mark led them to a table on the edge of the terrace, a private spot where the city lights shimmered below. He took a seat, his date following suit, and Neal and (Y/n) joined them. The air was cool, and the tension in the space was almost tangible. The mark’s eyes flicked between them, his gaze assessing, calculating.

“So,” he began, his voice smooth, “tell me, how did you two meet? I’m always curious about these stories."

Neal leaned back in his chair, putting on his best charming smile. “It was one of those chance encounters, really,” he began. “I was at an auction, looking at some early Renaissance pieces when she walked in—just like that.” He snapped his fingers, his eyes glinting. “She had this aura about her—class, confidence, and this fire in her eyes that made me want to get to know her. I knew the moment I saw her, I’d never let her slip through my fingers.

Y/n) raised an eyebrow, a little taken aback by how smooth he was. “Not exactly how I remember it,” she replied, her tone light but sharp. “He was chasing after a piece of art that had already been sold. I caught him, and after some back-and-forth, we ended up negotiating a deal. And well, the rest, as they say, is history.”

The mark chuckled, intrigued. “So, love at first sight then?”

Neal and (Y/n) exchanged a glance, both knowing that this was the moment they had to sell it. Neal leaned forward, his voice dropping a notch as he spoke to the mark.

“There’s something about her. Something that keeps me coming back, you know?” he said, his eyes never leaving (Y/n)'s face. “She’s strong, sharp—doesn’t take crap from anyone. And that’s something you don’t find every day.”

(Y/n) turned toward him, her heart beating a little faster at the raw honesty in his words. She wasn’t sure if it was part of the act or something real underneath it, but the heat between them flickered for a second.

“And what do you see in him?” the mark asked, his tone now laced with genuine curiosity.

(Y/n) hesitated for a moment, unsure how to answer without giving away too much of her own feelings, but when she looked into Neal’s eyes, something clicked. They were here together, playing a part in a dangerous game, but the way he was looking at her made her forget that for a second. She could feel the weight of his gaze, the vulnerability he was letting slip, just for her.

“I see someone who challenges me,” she replied, her voice softer than usual. “Someone who pushes me to be better. And, you know, someone who’s got this charm that… well, it works on me. I’m not proud of it.”

Neal’s grin spread, his eyes flashing with something unreadable. “Works on me too,” he said, his voice lower now, as if the words were meant for her alone. “We balance each other out. When I'm with her, I feel complete, you know?”

The mark seemed satisfied with their answers, his eyes narrowing slightly. “You two really are a convincing pair. Almost makes me believe in the whole ‘love at first sight’ thing," he laughed. His date, lost in her phone, barely seemed to notice, leaving the moment to hang between them.

Neal glanced at (Y/n), an almost imperceptible shift in his expression as he studied her. There was something different in the way she held herself tonight. She was usually the composed one, but now… he couldn’t quite read the look in her eyes.

“So, what happens next?” the mark asked, his voice smooth, as he leaned back in his chair.

Neal tilted his head, his smile never faltering. “Now? Now we enjoy the view.” He gestured out toward the city lights that sparkled beneath them, a million possibilities flashing in the distance. “What’s a good evening without a little bit of beauty to go with it?”

(Y/n) nodded, her fingers tracing the edge of her wine glass absently. “And a little danger, I’d say,” she added, her voice laced with a quiet challenge.

The mark raised an eyebrow, intrigued. “Danger, huh? What’s dangerous about a couple like you two?”

Neal chuckled, but it was a touch colder this time, more calculated. He turned his eyes on (Y/n), watching the way she tilted her head, as if she was on the edge of saying something important. Then, with a glance that felt almost too intimate, he spoke again. “We’ve got a history, you know? We don’t talk about it much, but we both know... some things you don’t just walk away from.”

(Y/n) blinked, her breath catching at his words. She hadn’t expected him to go that far with the act. The sincerity behind it—whether it was all for the mission or something more—hit her unexpectedly. But she kept her face neutral, answering with equal weight. “Yeah. Some things... they follow you.”

The air between them thickened, the words hanging heavy in the space. The mark watched them, an unreadable expression on his face as he exchanged glances with his date. It wasn’t quite suspicion, but something deeper. Curiosity, maybe. Or recognition. But before anything could be said, the mark stood, taking a step toward the edge of the terrace.

“You two are something else,” he said with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’m going to grab another drink. You stay here.”

Neal and (Y/n) exchanged a glance, one that said everything without needing words. As soon as the mark and his date were distracted by the bar, they slipped away. It wasn’t much—just enough of a gap for them to make their move. They walked quickly, low and quiet, blending into the flow of people.

They passed a row of velvet curtains and slipped behind them, into a hallway that led to the back stairwell. The sound of voices echoed from the main room, but it was the sound of a briefcase being handed over that caught Neal’s attention.

There he was—the mark, shaking hands with someone in a dark suit. The transaction was swift, almost too clean. Neal’s eyes narrowed.

“Something’s off,” he whispered to (Y/n), barely audible.

But before they could pull back into the shadows, a shift in the mark’s posture had him looking their way. Neal froze, his gaze locking with the mark’s. There was a flicker of recognition in the man’s eyes, followed by a narrowing of his gaze.

In that moment, they both knew they had been spotted.

Neal didn’t hesitate. He grabbed (Y/n)’s wrist, pulling her in close. “Trust me on this,” he muttered, his breath warm against her ear.

Before she could even respond, his lips found hers in a kiss that was far from gentle. It was urgent—desperate, even, and as their bodies pressed closer, the danger of being caught only made it more intense. Their kiss was a cover, an act. But damn, it felt real. The mark was approaching them now, too close for comfort, but Neal barely registered the thought. He pushed her against the nearest wall and "got carried away" as he traveled towards her neck. Her hands found his hair, gently playing with them, for the act, of course.

(Y/n)’s heart raced as the world around them seemed to blur. They were acting, but in that moment, there was a sense of something more—something raw beneath the surface. He left her neck and locked her yes in a gaze, before returning back to her lips. Her pulse thudded in her ears, and when Neal pulled away, her lips felt like they were still burning from the kiss.

The mark was now standing just a few feet away, his brow furrowed in confusion but not yet suspicious enough to call them out. Neal, ever the charmer, quickly recovered, a half-smile spreading across his face.

“Sorry,” he said, voice low and teasing. “Got carried away. But you know how it is, right?” He gestured to (Y/n), his hand slipping possessively around her waist as he spoke directly to the mark, hoping his calm demeanor would sell the story.

The mark studied them for a beat, a silent assessment passing between them. Finally, he shook his head, smirking. “You two really are something else, huh.”

Neal’s grin stretched wider, eyes flicking to (Y/n) for just a moment, as if to say: We’re good.

They turned, following the mark back into the chaos of the night, but the weight of what just happened settled between them—unspoken, but palpable.

The sound of pounding footsteps echoed through the terrace as the FBI moved in, swarming around them with practiced efficiency. Neal felt the brief rush of adrenaline still pumping in his veins, but now it was mixed with something else. He and (Y/n) had done their job, the mark had fallen into their trap, and the briefcase—the one they’d been waiting for—was in his hands, a key piece of evidence that sealed the deal.

But then, there was that kiss.

It had been... unexpected. Real. No longer just an act.

The team moved quickly, surrounding the mark, taking him into custody. Peter gave Neal a brief, knowing nod before he led the mark away. He didn’t say anything; the job was done. The mission was complete. But Neal’s mind wasn’t on the bust. He was focused on (Y/n), the way her breath had caught when their lips met, the look in her eyes that he couldn’t quite place.

Once the area had cleared and the sound of distant voices faded, he turned to her. (Y/n) was leaning against the railing, her arms crossed tightly as she stared out over the city, the glow of the streetlights flickering in the distance. There was a cold distance in her posture that wasn’t there before, a wall he hadn’t seen her put up.

Neal swallowed, his throat suddenly dry. “(Y/n)...”

She didn’t look at him right away. When she did, her gaze was unreadable. “We did our job, Neal. That’s what matters.”

There was a tightness in her voice, the way she was shutting down again, retreating behind the walls she always kept so perfectly in place. It made his chest tighten.

“I know,” Neal replied, his voice softer. “But that kiss…” He trailed off, unsure of how to continue. He was a conman, a man who lived in deception. But that kiss—that had felt different.

(Y/n) sighed, pushing herself off the railing and turning to face him fully. “It’s part of the job, Neal. You know that. It’s always part of the job.”

Her words were clipped, but her eyes betrayed her. They were too wide, too vulnerable, like she was trying to convince herself as much as she was convincing him. Neal didn’t buy it. Not this time.

“Is it?” he asked quietly, his voice low, almost hesitant. “Because that didn’t feel like part of the job to me. It felt like—” He stopped himself, trying to find the right words. “Like something real.”

Her expression flickered, just for a moment, like she was considering telling him something—something more than what she was letting on. But she quickly masked it, her gaze hardening again.

“It wasn’t real, Neal,” she said, her voice sharp, like the edge of a blade. “It was a job. You know that.”

Neal’s breath hitched. “But what if it was? What if it wasn’t just the mission? What if we’re both—” He cut himself off, staring at her, his chest suddenly tight with a feeling he couldn’t quite shake. “Look, I don’t want to make this more complicated than it has to be. But I can’t just act like that kiss was nothing. I can’t pretend it didn’t mean something.”

(Y/n) took a step back, her jaw clenched, clearly struggling with something she wasn’t ready to face. “You’re just confused, Neal,” she said, her words laced with frustration. “We’re good at what we do. We can sell this. We can sell anything. But that kiss? It doesn’t mean what you think it does.”

Neal shook his head, his frustration matching hers. “Why do I feel like you’re trying so hard to convince me of that?”

She stepped forward, her eyes locking onto his. There was no hiding now. “Because I don’t need you to start thinking that this is something more than it is,” she said, her voice shaking just a little. “I don’t need to feel like I’m... I’m letting you in. I don’t want that. We can’t have that.”

“Why not?” Neal asked, his voice quieter now, softer. “Why can’t we have that?”

For a moment, (Y/n) didn’t say anything. She just looked at him, as if trying to find the words to explain something she couldn’t. She wanted to—he could see it in her eyes—but something held her back, something she was afraid to admit.

“Because I can’t,” she finally said, her voice trembling with something raw, something real. “Because I can’t let you in, Neal. I can’t let myself... care. I’ve spent too long keeping everything at arm's length. It’s easier that way. It’s safer that way.”

Neal felt his heart twist. He had no answers, no solutions. He couldn’t fix this. He wasn’t sure if he even wanted to.

But as the silence stretched between them, he couldn’t just let it go. “So, what happens now?” he asked quietly. “Do we just go back to being... partners? Nothing more, nothing less?”

(Y/n) looked away, biting her lip as she thought it over. “I don’t know,” she said finally. “I don’t know if we can just go back to what we were before. But we have to try.”

Neal didn’t argue. He couldn’t. There was too much at stake. Too much left unsaid.

“I don’t think either of us can walk away from this without something changing,” he said, the words coming out as more of a confession than a statement.

Her eyes flickered to his again, softer now. “Maybe that’s true,” she murmured. “But that doesn’t mean we can act on it.”

Neal took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. “I don’t know what’s happening between us, (Y/n). But I don’t think I can just pretend it’s nothing anymore.”

She nodded slowly, her gaze dropping to the floor for a moment before meeting his eyes one last time. “Neither can I,” she said quietly, as she took off her ring and placed it in his hand.

And then, before either of them could say more, Peter’s voice echoed from behind them, sharp and thunder-like.

“Jesus Christ, what happened in this mission?” Peter inquired, leaning against the doorframe, clearly amused.

Neal shot him a glare, but there was no real heat behind it. Peter was just being Peter. But as the moment lingered, both Neal and (Y/n) knew the truth. They had crossed a line. They’d let the job get too close. And now, whatever happened next… they couldn’t go back to pretending it was just a mission anymore.

a/n: I hope you liked it, this was my first request so I got carried away T_T, I'll make a part 2 for closure if this does well <3

[translatingpostsintoitalian]

Hi!

This is my main. I did the translation of that one post into Austrian German (Or, well, my specific dialect).

Just wanted to pop in to tell you that you're 100% correct on what you said in the tags. "oba jo" is "aber ja". I even had "joa" written there for a sec, lol, but then I thought about it and realized that I would probably say "jo" in that context.

Bavaria is pretty much the closest to Austrian dialect you can get outside of Austria, lol. And fyi, we also say a bunch of "joa" here as well.

I genuinely put a lot of though into how i should translate "alas". Because there obviously isn't a direct translation. I thought about doing "leida/leider" or "najo/naja" or something else. But then I thought that a word for word translation wasn't the point of this anyway. And that I wanted to write like a person here would say it. (if I'd pay attention in my translation lectures I's probably be able to use the right vocabulary to describe this, because I know we learned it, but alas, lol). Generally I just think that for my blog specifically it makes the most sense to really focus on how an actual person would say something. Because dialect is so fundamentally a verbal form of communication. So I'm always kinda trying to get away from my first instinct of accuracy and instead use how I would verbally communicate this with another person here. (Luckily, I think the translating posts into German blog has the accuracy covered)

Also, istg, it's so hard to figure out how to spell dialect. I do write in dialect when I text friends, but that's really only some. Trying to really write every word like I say it is so much harder than you'd think. Because there isn't really standardization, obviously. So I'm purely going by my gut. I just hope it's at least sorta readable for anyone who knows some dialect.

I'm also itching to bring some Carinthian specific dialect in there. Like, words that confuse my friends who are literally from one state over. Someone please start talking about green beans or smth, lol.

Anyway, I just wanted to give you a bit of an insight into my thought process, if you were interested, but somehow it turned out sorta long and a bit ranty. So I'm sorry about that, lol. And hope you can find it a bit interesting anyways (I hope it makes sense, lol). I wish you a lovely rest of your day/night!

- translatingpostsintoaustrian

:)

For clarity, this is the post (and the tags) that aceoflights is referring to.

My answer's gonna be lengthy and it doesn't concern Italian, so I'll hide it under here. Everybody else, feel free to skip!

---

Hi! I don't know if you have any idea how incredibly happy this ask made me. Finally I know that I'm not the only crazy person on earth that loves to ramble about every little detail of a language or about a seemingly innocent word like "joa" when translating! I mean, our beloved [tumblr] does host language enthusiasts in general, but nevertheless I feel very validated right now, because it seems that you're a translation student. (I don't have any sort of degree that's related to languages and my German is self-taught.)

Okay so, clearly your endeavor with Kärntnerisch is harder than with Italian, German, Russian etc. because the Carinthian dialect has a weaker written standardization, and I'm guessing that it's also more phonetically "unstable". On top of that, it seems that it has sounds that standard Austrian German doesn't have as well? So that's a bit of a head scratcher.

I too speak an Italian dialect, Salentino, for which basically no written standard has been established, also because it's VERY unstable phonetically, especially in my area. Each town has its own dialect, which can be relatively quite different from the neighboring ones. There is a magazine written mostly in my hometown's dialect that gets published every few months, and let me tell you, it's funny to read but sometimes it's also annoying. Every individual writer brings their own influences from neighboring dialects and their personal take on orthography (LMAO), so the result is always very heterogeneous.

I rarely write in salentino, and when I do I tend to overlook formalities or precision with the orthography because the sentences tend to be very short and recognizable. When I try to be complete though, I use my own personal orthography. I'm trading readability to other users for a more phonemic and unambiguous orthography. So, as a practical example, Italian has the trigrams <sci> and <sce>, in which <sc> is always pronounced as a geminated [ʃʃ]. However salentino has both geminated [ʃʃ] and single [ʃ] sounds, which are commonly both written as <sc>, which means that for example "sciamu" (we go, single [ʃ]) and "sciamu" (we ski) are homographs. Thus I tend to write the single [ʃ] with a <š>. It makes sense when [t] palatalizes the preceding [s] into a [ʃ] in words like štamu, bašta, rištacca (Italian: stiamo, basta, stacca). It'd be crazy to write it instead as sctamu, bascta, risctacca as it would cause the average Italian speaker a stroke.

Anyway, sorry, I definitely got carried away. What I meant to say was: should you look for a standardized orthography for Carinthian (or in general sudbairisch/south Bavarian)? Should you just conjure up your own orthography and write it in the description of your blog? Something in between? The choice is entirely yours. I follow @mundart-ch, who translates posts in Swiss German (specifically their dialect which should be Bern if I recall correctly it was Lucerne. fuck). Swiss German is another example of a messy language that's not fully and neatly standardized, but I think they make a pretty good job at, let's say, transcribing what's essentially a heavily spoken language. I don't speak Swiss German myself but I sometimes show the posts to my mother, who speaks a little bit of it, and she approves lol

In general I agree with your sentiment of seeing the translation as something a Carinthian would say, instead of a word-for-word (wortwörtlich, heh, one of my fav words) translation. I have beef with Italian and German translators/VAs not sounding natural, so...

So please keep up the good work with the blog, and most importantly, be sure to always have fun!

props to @translatingpostsintorussian who made me find out about @translatingpostsintoaustrian and many more cool translation blogs!!

[ronearoundblindly]

No pressure at all! But I had an idea for your ‘how would the Cevans characters react’ I’ve loved every installment of this so far 🥰🖤🥰

How would they react if reader was having an off day and for some reason couldn’t get off so she faked having an orgasm in bed.

Is this because of @cevansbrat0007's Ari fic? (which is great, go read that, but I feel like I've seen a surge in this trope since) Because, see, this is very interesting to me, and I really hope you've read other stuff of mine before, nonnie. I don't write everybody as a perfect gentleman...

Warnings for various levels of spice since we are, in fact, talking about orgasms, duh! MINORS DNI. See my Light Masterlist for all-age friendly fics!

James Mace

Ok, I'm not sure it would get so far as for you to actually fake it. Mace is a slow, steady, deep kind of lover. He'd realize you aren't getting anywhere or building up to it pretty quickly, all things considered, and he would make you talk to him while he continues foreplay/touching you. Pretty sure he just wants to be attached to you in some way while you have time together...

Curtis Everett

Curtis gets very intense when he senses you're holding something back, like predatorily intense. Uses his body to cage you in, constant eye contact, probably even pinching/tickling you until you confess.

He doubles down. You fake one; Curtis forces two out of you in return.

Jimmy Dobyne

Shockingly, Jimmy would be super upset if you faked an orgasm with him. (There is one caveat to this: IF HE FINDS OUT.) Jimmy is a straight-forward guy who doesn't enjoy dating games. You aren't into sex right now? Fucking say something. He's horrified by the idea you would just lay there and take it or whatever because what the fuck???

He's got simple rules. If you don't like something, tell him because he can handle himself for one night/a little while or he'll happily do something different. If you never want something he does, then you two shouldn't be together. That's it.

Sex is an important aspect of your relationship, but it ain't the whole thing. Tell him to piss off, or ask for a quiet night of holding each other. Do not lie, cheat, or steal. You lied about being satisfied, you cheated him out of the chance to actually give you what you needed, and you stole his confidence that he recognizes your body's signals. Yes, Jimmy sorta makes it about him, but that's mostly because he feels helpless and a little dirty.

Johnny Storm

Existential CRISIS.

Have you ever faked it with him before? Have other women faked it with him?? Is this a common thing??? Hot shot goes into full-meltdown mode, and unsurprisingly, you end up kinda lost in the narrative there, soothing him instead of yourself.

Oddly enough, you two do end up closer from the experience though because Johnny realizes that he very much values trust and honesty, whereas before he would have thought plain ol' fun the most important thing...

Jake Jensen

Jakey, my beloved, clueless noob... He doesn't really know what to do. He asks a lot of questions. What's wrong? What can he do? What do you want in this moment? Should he have done it differently? Do you need more? Something else? Was it him?

For a dozen times after, he'll ask if that one was real or fake. He's touchy about it, but 90% of his concern is just that you are actually happy. He puts in quite a bit of extra effort for a while after, too.

Lloyd Hansen

I am a broken record when it comes to Lloyd: he does not care. At best, he'd be torturing you to come for his own pleasure. At worst, well, he's there to get off. You don't need to.

If by some magical scenario Lloyd does give a fuck about you or your feelings, I think he'd expect you to take what you needed from him to climax. Otherwise, it's not really his problem.

Ari Levinson

Depends on his own mood for sure. When Ari is stressed or tired, he tends to turn inward and focus on his own feelings, not purposefully ignoring you but still. It reads like he didn't/doesn't notice and just continues on with sleep/the normal routine. If he's got the emotional, energy bandwidth to talk it out with you, he absolutely will. Don't take any offense. Sometimes he's muddling through like you.

Ransom Drysdale

Has no idea. Probably doesn't want to have an idea. Unless it becomes a regular problem, he's just gonna let it slide. He won't bring it up if you don't.

Steve Rogers

On the surface, Steve looks concerned and listens to your reasons for faking, but honestly, on the inside, he hates the idea that you felt the need to. Steve will easily forego sex in favor of literally anything you want to do, so to let it get all the way to love-making and apparently suffering through till he's finished? It makes him a bit sick. He'll get more more restrained and cautious in future, all for want of you never faking again.

Bucky Barnes

Feels like a huge failure as a partner. Spends a good portion of the conversation having you promise to communicate with him better from now on. This is from a man who has so many things going on in his mind that Bucky is often derailed from pleasure/enjoyment during sex. He's just very triggered by the darndest things, and you've been so understanding. Why can't he be that for you, too?

Thank you for asking!

A/N: I know these are a bit short. Let me know if there's one or more you'd like expanded on, but thank you for reading!

[Main Masterlist; 'Who Would...' Asks; Ko-Fi]

[cryinglightning64]

Hope Is Lost

Summary: You left home to get away from the normalcy, only to end up in a foreign country not knowing that the world was beginning to end.

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x female (sorta nun) reader

A/N: this is my first attempt at writing a fanfic bc i cant seem to find any about him in france and if you have found any tag me plss 😭 i had to resort to making my own instead. lmk if anyone is even interested in a part 2 this is basically just a teaser i promise it will have smut if 1 person interacts with this. even if nobody interacts ima still post part 2 bc wtf am i doing hoarding this in my notes app.

*************************************************

The first time you saw him you had a strange feeling about him. As if you knew who he was. As he floated on top of the boat that seemed to be capsized, a measly tied rope that hardly held his body to the boat, you weren't sure what his name was, but you had a gut feeling, you knew it had to be him. The one to get you home.

You followed him, watched as the man washed up on the shore, confused, but seemingly determined.

The sisters might be right, you thought to yourself. Isabelle might be right.

You met Isabelle after the world began decaying, finding refuge at the convent. It wasn't really your first choice, staying at the convent, but in this world, beggars can't be choosers. You thought maybe immersing yourself into religion might help take your mind off everything that happened to you, everything going on outside.

Many of the nuns at the abbey didn't see you as one of them, despite you doing everything possible to fit in, as much as a fake nun could. You never were religious like the rest of them, which made everyone turn their heads away from you. Religion came easy to them, meanwhile with you, well, you hadn't given it much thought.

To this day it's still in the back of your mind, chipping away at you, the guilt of not being a big enough believer in God. How could you believe in a higher power if this is what the world has succumbed to? How could anything good let all the people you loved, cared about, die such gruesome deaths? Always a constant back and forth battle you had going on in your mind.

Sister Isabelle confided in you, telling you about Laurent, and how she needed to find someone to deliver him to Paris. The whole messiah thing seemed like such a crazy thing to wrap your head around, but you still offered your help in anyway you could. After all, you knew she would do anything for you and the rest of the nuns. That and you needed to get out of France. It was your one chance, you finally had a good enough reason to leave the abbey and try to find your way back home.

Hanging up the small poster of the Union Isabelle made, you watched as the man with the wings on his back took an abandoned boat as his shelter for the night. Hopefully he would still be there by the time you got back tomorrow.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Isabelle, I am telling you, I saw him." you pleaded. You stood in the now-quiet kitchen, eyes wide, but barely visible due to the small lantern you held up.

"Je t'ai dit de ne pas y aller seul," Isabelle whispered, "I told you not to go alone out there, what if he had seen you? Or followed you?"

"He didn't, okay? Please Isabelle, I know what everyone here thinks about me and my faith, but I know it, he's the one that can help us take Laurent." you spoke quietly but urgently, as to not wake up the rest of the sisters.

"No, we know nothing of this man, maybe he is already out there walking amongst the dead, or worse, he might just be here to steal from us and kill us all. You will not go back out there, especially alone, do you understand?" Isabelle spoke, her hand coming to rub her forehead, smoothing the frown lines forming.

Sighing, you nod your head, peering down at the drawing.

"Good, now get some sleep." Isabelle turned away, heading back to sleep.

Even if deep down, you didn't believe that Laurent was the messiah, you still had the need to find out more about this man.

The next morning you came back to where you had last seen the man, hoping he was still out there.

You watched and followed as he got up and began packing his things, setting out to wander the land.

You also saw how he had got himself into trouble with the young woman and older man, seeing how he fought off the men from the Pouvoir des Vivants, as best as he could. You watched from a distance until you saw how they robbed him blind, injuring him long enough for them to get away.

You ran up to him, kneeling before watching him pass out from the blows to the head and quite probably the dehydration.

You carried, or more so, dragged his limp body to your small carriage you brought with you, hoping he wouldn't be what Isabelle said he was.

You were dreading having to explain to Isabelle why you had brought this man to the abbey after she so explicitly told you not to engage with him, let alone bring him into your homes.

"Qu'est-ce que je t'ai dit? Why did you have to bring him back here?" Isabelle raised her eyebrows at you as she held the hot poker towards his arm.

"Perdóname, no supe que hacer, I had no choice he was injured" you said and you rounded to the opposite side of the bed.

"Hold his arm down, and cover his mouth." Isabelle said as she looked at you with a glare you were sure was the maddest you have ever seen her.

He screamed into the cloth you had placed between his teeth as he writhed and she held the hot metal to his arm where the mutated undead had burned him.

His grunts and pained yelling made something inside you feel horrible, the pain he was in almost made you feel as terrible as it seemed to pain him.

His anguished face combined with the peaceful singing of the nuns down the hall swarmed your senses, until he coughed and passed out once more.

"Listen to me, I know you didn't mean for all this to happen, I get that, and I understand he was hurt. But you better pray that he will be able to deliver Laurent, it's what he needs, deserves." Isabelle said after she wrapped the man's arm, who you had come to learn his name was Daryl Dixon from the tape you found in his pack.

"I will, Isabelle. I'll make it my life's mission to get that boy to Paris." you said quietly as to not wake up Daryl, who had begun to snore softly in the bed below you.

"Very well. Now help me prepare the bath for him, he's going to need it once he wakes up." Isabelle walked away to fetch a kettle of water to fill up the bath.

***************************************

a/n: yall pls dont be mad i tried my best i know its shitty writing but i dont have anything to lose.

also im open to suggestions or if you guys wanna see a certain trope or scene play along u tell me ill do my best to make it come true on paper 😪

[zee-143]

☆Felix x Black! Reader(Fem! Reader)♡

A/N: Hey black girlies 😍❤ I'm also a black girlie so I've been dying to do this!! Also, if you're not black and wanna read please do!! I don't really care just no hate!!! We need more kpop x black readers frr😭 Btw if u know any people who write them pls tell me! Uhm, one more thing, this is my first time writing like a story kinda one shot thing..? Basically, sorry if it isn't amazing. I'm still learning so pls enjoy ❣️❣️

Genre: Fluff☁💕 but sorta angsty??

Warnings: Nothing ✨

Summery: You're insecure about your curly hair so Felix tried to help you feel better ( and sorta failed)

You frowned, staring at your reflection in the mirror. It wasn't a pretty sight, you thought. Your hair was so messy and boring. This definitely wasn't how you wanted to start the day with. Especially since you have a date with Felix. Dealing with this mess of hair you couldn't control? Huge bummer. Though with a problem, there's always a solution.

You slid open your vanity drawer, rummaging around all the random hair products and combs. Your face brightened as you pulled out a hair straightener

"Perfect! "

You found a place to plug it in. You turned on the device, unsure of what to do next. You hadn't actually had any experience with straightening your hair. This is the first time but dealing with your stupid curly hair is way harder. What was difficult about straight hair? You shrugged of the feeling of uneasiness.

You placed the straightener near your hair. You hesitated slightly, placing the curly ends of your hair in between the tool. You worried that it would burn your hair or something. You've seen plenty girls on social media though doing it for real is nerve wrecking.

You press the straightener down onto your hair, leaving it for a few seconds before satisfyingly pulling it away. You were astonished to find how well it worked out! Your hair was straight and some how not burned. Eagerness and excitement took over your whole body. You pulled the hair straightener back to try another piece of hair

"Sunshine~ Are you almost rea-"

Felix stopped mid sentence, standing frozen at the doorway. You hadn't noticed him at all as you successfully straitened more bunches of hair. Felix moved so quickly, you couldn't react to how he carefully snatched the hair tool away. He unplugged then placed it on your vanity table.

You stared at him, a look of surprise. Felix stared back at you, instead with eyes of worry. A loud silence echoed around the room. You wanted to say something, but what? That you didn't know

"I like your hair"

Felix stated. You cocked an eyebrow, unsure of what he was on about. Felix noticed this so he continues

"You don't have to straighten it, is all I'm saying. You have a beautiful hair texture"

Felix shrugged, staring at you. His face had a sense of calmness but you could tell he wanted to say more.

"There's nothing special about it. It's honestly boring and difficult to manage"

You respond in a monotone voice. Felix couldn't tell whether you were just saying that or you were serious. He crossed his arms and hummed in thought

"Well... "

Felix pulled you into his chest, holding you in a tight hug

"That doesn't mean you should change it. You've never straightened it before. I don't get it... "

You listened to the concern in his voice. It hurt you to make him feel this way. Felix hates it when you change something about yourself. He'd rather get stabbed a billion times than not have the real you.

"It's complicated" You answer

"Then explain it to me"

Felix wasn't backing down any time soon. He needed to know what you hated so much about your hair. You may think he doesn't know, but he knows. He knows how you wish your hair was straight. He knows how you wish you didn't have to deal with such a 'messy' hair type. Felix knew everything and it hurt him every time you said something bad about yourself. Sure, Felix isn't in your position, so he'd never know why you feel this way. He wanted to know though. Every little detail.

"We're gonna be late for our date, you know?" You didn't know what else to say

"I don't care. We're not going anymore"

Felix pulled away. He held your hands tightly and scanned your face. You were about to question it but he stopped you

"We're not going anywhere until you tell me what's wrong with your hair. And don't use those lame excuses. Be honest with me... "

"I dunno"

"You can't not know. Are you insecure about your hair or something? "

Silence filled the room. For the first time, you didn't have an answer. You didn't say anything. It was weird. Imagine being insecure about your hair?

"No"

You lied. Felix sighed. He knows you're not telling the truth.

"Fine...but 𝘐 like your hair, alright? I think.. I think it's so unique and special. There's only so much I can do with mine. Yours has so many possibilities. I love it just like I love you"

Felix kissed your forehead. His hands let go of yours. You stared blankly at him, unable to form a proper sentence. His words were so simple. This touched your heart though.

Felix strolled away from you, stepping out the door. He gave you a quick smile before leaving and closing the door behind him. You wanted to tell him to come back. You decided against it.

Staring at your reflection in the vanity mirror had you realize something. Your hair was yours and there was nothing hair products or even a straightener could fix. You still hated that. You knew Felix only cares about you. He worries too much, you thought. You picked up the hair straightener again, plugging it in. Your reflection seemed to be mocking you. You ignored it. It was all your decision. What more can an insecure black girl do?

Please tell me what you think!!