#trying out some new stuff with how i color here too

[feketeribizli]

okay wait marci questions. how does he feel about media stuff? press, sponsored posts, the obligatory slash forced social media goofing etc. actually what's his social media presence like in general. also does he have pets..... did he grow up idolising anyone currently on the grid? how does he feel about racing his childhood heroes if yes? also, what's his favourite colour? capping it here but i want it known that he has eaten my brain 👍

hiii thank youuuu absolute bangers from you as always mwuah mwuah 😁🫶

nearly wrote a thousand words LMAO im putting a readmore somewhere to save yall... thank you for your time everyone 🫡

with all the live cockslip talk i thought itd be fun to delve into his social media presence for real... team and personal brand posting he doesnt mind per say, he got that goober in him that doesnt take oneself too seriously so hopping on silly trends hes almost looking forward to it. aston socials esp their tiktok is like my fave thing in the world lol id love to see him recreate the adam security & gf trend with padre

marci mostly uses instagram and its a mess... i barely follow any drivers but ive noticed they almost always got a certain aesthetic they try to keep up and well. marci dgaf. theyd try to put some color grading filter on the first photo in his dumps so at least theres some harmony to his page but its atrocious

he obviously has an official account on every other site but its usually for stuff his management posts on there (and an empty tiktok profile where his reposts are public. surely nothing weird or suspicious to see)

back to press and shit... hes not a fan 🧍‍♂️ he prefers the scripted stuff and when he can have like three takes to say something cause when its just him and twenty cameras broadcasting live... he still gets nervous and then the accent slips in and he stumbles his speeches and words things in a way people could twist what he said around easily (moment of silence and empathy for little lando norris). hes a small scale driver so the world doesnt hang on every word he says but yknow how it is

oh now im yapping like crazyyy... this part could get a whole new post but its kinda media related and ive been thinking and wanna talk about it a bit... if youve read this far kisses xx 😘

but yeah since im inserting marci into the canon events of real life theres bound to be loud media frenzy around his arrival especially since its aston. and in lances place (gotta work more on this but i was thinking lance has a kinda bad crash somewhere in the beginning of the 2024 season and my guy gets summoned out of thin air colapinto style to fill his place in until recovery but out of nowhere lance is like id like to temporarily step back lol 😋✌️ and the world explodes and marc is full time employed now)

and like idk how the hungarian public would react to a hun on the grid after twenty years (hes faggy so id care. otherwise idgaf about hungarian athletes for the most part) but that combined with the guy the world seems to hate a lot finally stepping down (NOT ME LANCE I LOVE YOU this is me trying to help this is me putting you in good situations) the commotion would be a major event with marcis name in the tabloids for a bit

all im trying to say is that his f1 entry would probably be very overwhelming and hes this shy guy no one has ever heard about before blabbering at stupid fucking press questions while glued to fernandos side. who is he whats his deal

ok lets put a hold on media for now 🧍‍♂️ as for pets... an old bernese back at home :-) marci kind of grew up with her (as much as he was at home. or the country even)... management posting ten-year-old marci at his first karting event with the puppy in his hands and then twenty-year-old marci after his first grand prix facetiming his family in the aston garages with the dog on the phone too... ack

about idols... his big thing is michael schumacher i know that for sure. marc generally looks up to everyone and has immense respect for most drivers. the more i think about it the more im like maybe bro got a thing for psychosexual warfare kinda drivers (schumi, vettel, alonso...) like yayyy to on and off track terrorism when its not aimed at me 😁

confession i kind of made him to deal with my conflicting feelings about aston martin as a whole lol and well. anyway he still shivers hot and bothered sometimes when fernando is around. gets a bit self conscious about it too but nothing that taking it up in the ass couldnt fix

fave color is greeeeen 😁 as i said match made in heaven with aston. team merch is glued to his body

WHEWH what an essay and i dont even know if im making sense lol ! marci is taking shape and becoming rock solid in my head im very happy about it 😋🫶 shoutout again to everyone intrigued i love cooking up the guy im having sooo much fun ‼️💥❣️

[toasty-owl-arts]

posting winter gfs when its 35 degrees out <3

[icewindandboringhorror]

I have found a beautiful perfect humble rock specimen that is light yellow with a weird dark yellowy brown lining, somewhat resembling a chunk of smoked gouda cheese... effervescent

[steddiewithachance]

I'm Here on Business

Wayne is a regular at the bookstore Steve works at and badgers Steve into going on a blind date with his kid.

For @extocancer Happy New Years!!! I hope you enjoy your presents ◡̈

***

It's a quiet night in the little bookstore on the corner of Brinks and Williams. Steve is sitting behind the check-out counter flicking the leaf of a potted pothos placed next to the register. Soft music plays from the radio behind him.

Steve likes taking the evening shifts at the shop just to see the place warmly lit up by all of the eclectic and ornate lamps that Amber, the owner, has collected. The store doesn't give him migraines from obnoxious fluorescent light, which has been an issue at previous jobs.

Ever since Robin moved out of their apartment for Grad school, it's been upsetting to be at home alone at night. Without her company, the couch feels longer. And without her unhinged apartment decor, the walls feel taller and colder. Consequently, Steve has taken on more work hours instead of being home.

Plus, he has kind of fallen in love with reading. It came as a shock to him that he could enjoy it as much as he does. It started when his all-female team of coworkers began ranting to each other about these romance novels they were all into. He felt a little left out and decided to give one of them a try. It turns out that reading was actually a really great coping mechanism for dealing with his temporary loss of Robin.

The nicest, and most surprising thing to come out of this job though, is probably Wayne. A one-time customer turned regular, turned tentative friend for Steve. He's got a caring, parental energy that Steve's own parents never had.

The guy looks like he'd have a gruff or standoffish personality. His face naturally rests in a frown and he's got receding grey hair. He wears a flannel every day without fail; he's got a million different colors of them and Steve has even made a game of predicting which one he'll be wearing when he comes in.

"Did ya guess right today, boy?" Wayne will ask.

"No," Steve often admits glumly. "The universe told me you'd be wearing your green and blue one."

So anyway, Wayne comes around a lot to make small talk. He often mentions how he misses his son, Eddie. He's so stiff with personal information about his kid, but one time he let it slip that Eddie was on tour with his band. Steve had a field day afterward colluding with Google to find out exactly who Wayne's son was.

Eddie Munson, lead singer and guitarist of rock group Corroded Coffin.

Steve hadn't heard of ‘em but they certainly have a following. He listened to some of their stuff, to give himself some context for the next time Wayne brought up Eddie's music. It was nice enough, the guy has a good voice.

Steve's been waiting for Wayne to come in tonight. He's later than usual and it would be ridiculous for Steve to worry about a man who probably just thinks of Steve as that one kid who works at the bookstore. He may not come in at all tonight, and that would be fine too. Steve's still holding out on him pulling up in his... yellow flannel.

Steve's about to cave and start the next book in the current series he's reading when the door jingles. Wayne pushes inside in his mother fucking yellow flannel.

"Yellow Flannel!" Steve exclaims. Wayne chuckles and drops a book on the counter followed by a receipt.

"You got me right today?" Wayne asks fondly.

"Yup. It's been a while. I was aching for a win." Steve starts returning Wayne's book for him without giving him slack this time. Wayne treats the store like a library and Steve doesn't have the heart to tell him it's not allowed.

"Was this book any good?" Steve throws Wayne's receipt back at him and starts moving around the counter to put it back on the shelf for some other historical fiction lover to purchase.

"It was just alright." Wayne follows behind him languidly, eyeing the rows of colorful book spines for something that catches his eye. "But actually I'm here on business tonight."

Steve leans on the shelf and waits impatiently for Wayne to tell him what sort of business he's on.

"I think you ought to go on a date with Eddie. I think you two'd compliment each other."

Well, that's... not what Steve was expecting to hear.

"That's business to you? You came here to set me up on a blind date with your famous kid? I think he's gonna be a tad underwhelmed by a bookstore employee, Wayne." Steve's not gonna lie, he's a little intrigued by the prospect of dating a musician. He read a romance novel about one, not that long ago. Concerts, greenroom intimacy, targeted lyrics: Steve could be into it, in theory.

And ultimately, Steve did see photos of Eddie on Google and he's attractive. He looks good holding a guitar.

"He's gonna be home for a while so I figured now's a good time. Just go on one date. He's a big softie, you'll like him." Wayne pulls a book off the shelf and squints to try and read the title. He holds it further from his eyes before giving up and pushing it back into its slot.

"What happens if he doesn't like me? Will you still come around?" Steve runs a nervous hand through his hair. It wouldn't be the end of the world if Wayne stopped showing up, but it would probably hurt a little. It might fan the flame of his fear of abandonment.

"Of course, unless you break his heart. I know where you work, young man." Wayne pats his shoulder good-naturedly.

"Okay old man, you need my number to hand off?"

***

A day later, when Steve feels his phone buzz against his thigh, his instincts already know who it is. His heart gives that anticipatory squeeze he often gets before a first date with someone he finds attractive.

The text reads:

Hi Steve, this is eddie. Wayne swears we're soulmates. Wanna get dinner on friday?

It's a funny text to receive out of nowhere. Steve doubts Wayne actually used that word, but he imagines that Eddie is probably getting more of an earful than Steve got about this whole blind date. He also wonders what kind of person calls their dad by their first name.

Hi Eddie. I'd love to get dinner on Fri and discuss our soulmate status. I'm pretty sure he expects us to be married by the end of the night. Should I bring my tux? Also do you have a time and place in mind?

The master of puppets (Wayne) suggested we go to Maggiano's, are you okay with Italian? 8 maybe??? Tux optional but I think I will not be wearing one.

Haha. That sounds good Eddie, it's nice to hear from you. I'll see you soon.

***

Steve has to ask Amber to change his shift for Friday to work in the morning instead of the evening.

"Steve has somewhere other than work to be on a Friday night? Unheard of!" She slaps her palms down on the book display she was laying out.

"I know. I'm surprised too." Steve fiddles with his lanyard and gives her a 'please say yes' smile. She sighs.

"Yeah, I'll cover you. You can take my morning slot."

"Thank you! I owe you, boss."

***

When Friday arrives, Steve has the nervous jitters. It's been about a year since his last date, it didn't go very well. He's flattered that Wayne thinks highly enough of him to set him up with his kid.

Steve picks up a few small gifts for Eddie on his way home from work. He always brings his first dates a little something. He likes to see the way their faces light up. He thinks maybe he should get Eddie something music-related. So he walks into a little music store he's never been in and asks for small gift ideas for guitarists. He walks out wearing a smile, and hoping Eddie digs what he bought him.

And he's all smiles and confidence until he pulls up to the restaurant at eight and realizes he didn't send a confirmation text this morning. That's like, a rule, right? What if Eddie doesn't show up?

Steve steps out of the car and is equally anxious and relieved to find him leaning artfully against the restaurant near the front door with his hands in his pockets.

His curls are haloed by the warm light spilling out of the restaurant window. He's wearing a dark button-down with the sleeves rolled up to reveal tattoos on his forearms. And yeah, okay, he's hot.

The fact that Steve's going on a date with someone sort of famous hasn't fully sunk in. He's not sure he needs the added nerves though. He approaches as casually as possible and smiles when Eddie looks over.

The man does a double-take when he sees Steve. His eyebrows shoot up and he pushes off against the wall to stand straighter.

"Hi, Eddie?" Steve steps up onto the curb with a little wave. Eddie gives him a thorough once over.

"Oh, damn. Hi." He pulls a hand out of his pocket to shake Steve's.

Eddie is pretty up close. He's got long eyelashes and a bridge of little freckles across his nose. Steve notices all the little details that the on-stage photos didn't capture. He wonders if Wayne described what he looked like to Eddie who was at an informational disadvantage.

"I don't know what I was expecting you to look like, but my uncle didn't mention you were model pretty." Eddie tucks one of his big curls behind his ear and then steps forward to open the door. Steve's face gets warm at being called "model pretty", but he's terrible at taking compliments. He tries to redirect the conversation.

"Your uncle?" Steve asks.

"Wayne? My uncle?" Eddie motions towards the open door and follows after Steve once he's inside.

"Oh. You know he tells people that you're his son?"

Eddie's face softens and he scratches at his cheek. "Oh. Yeah well, I basically am. Maybe I should start calling him dad, I don't know."

"We don't take walk-ins." The hostess of the restaurant announces, breaking up their small talk. Steve looks over to see a tall woman with a slicked-back ponytail mad-dogging them. She has a cold demeanor, she kills the mood with one look between them. Steve knows the look, he's sure Eddie does too.

"Good to know! I have a reservation, though." Eddie responds.

"What's the name?" The woman pulls her iPad closer to herself like a shield.

"Munson." Eddie glances at Steve nervously.

"Hm. I don't see it." She pretends, tapping around meaninglessly. Eddie is getting agitated and maybe embarrassed too. He's scratching at his arm, unsure of how to proceed. First dates are already so awkward, especially blind ones. And if there's one thing about Steve, it's that he's gonna try to lighten the mood.

"Don't you know who he is?" Steve asks offendedly. Eddie whips around to look at Steve with wide, panic-filled eyes. The hostess raises an eyebrow and looks more closely at Eddie. It makes Steve chuckle. "I'm just kidding, let's go get burgers or something." He grabs Eddie's hand and pulls him back out the door.

"Holy shit, you scared me. I didn't know you knew who I was." Eddie has a hand on his chest and a wild grin. "She definitely didn't."

"I was just messing around. She did not want to seat our gay date." Steve sticks his hands in his pockets and then remembers Eddie's gift. "Oh but hey! I got you something."

Steve pulls out a nice bar of chocolate and a little tin of black pearly guitar picks. He offers them to Eddie with an open palm.

"Oh, what? You didn't have to do that." Eddie grabs them eagerly and slides open the tin. "This is so nice! How'd you know I've been needing picks? Now I feel doubly bad about dinner falling through."

"Hey, if I'm honest, sit-down dinner dates kind of give me anxiety. Too much pressure to keep the conversation going." Steve pulls out his keys, "You like burgers?"

Eddie huffs dramatically. "My palette is far too sophisticated for greasy burgers, Steve. I'm a chicken nugget man, obviously."

"That makes sense. You look like one." Steve teases. Eddie pouts.

"I'm taking that as a compliment."

"If you want nuggets we can just walk down the street. Unless you want me to drive?" Steve points in the direction of the row of fast-food restaurants.

"Yeah, let's walk."

Steve slowly turns and starts walking, glancing invitingly over his shoulder.

"So you know me." Eddie rattles the tin of guitar picks and looks a little worried by the prospect that Steve is some sort of fan.

"Only through your uncle, really. And maybe a short Google search. Sue me." Steve holds up his hands guiltily.

"Oh yeah, Wayne's my marketing manager. I send him out to spread the good word."

"Well I don't know who you've been instructing him to market to, but he's spending all his time in my store making me read book summaries to him because he conveniently forgets his glasses every time he comes in." Steve deadpans. Eddie chuckles and shakes his head knowingly.

"Yeah, It's this new long-con form of marketing. We decided to go all in for just one new fan." Eddie's got these sweet little dimples on either cheek when he smiles.

"Kinda worked, I dunno. I'm charmed by the Munsons." Steve and Eddie are veering towards each other as they walk. They're set to collide like two little asteroids. When they do end up bumping shoulders, it's soft. They stay close after that.

Steve hears a truly horrible sound coming from a bar a few meters ahead of them.

"Oh shit! Karaoke bar!" Eddie exclaims and speeds over. Eddie stands in front of the fenced-off patio and looks in while someone butchers Guns N' Roses. He looks absolutely delighted.

"What, you want to go show off in front of these poor, tone-deaf drunkards?" Steve rests his arms on the little fence and leans forward. Eddie vehemently disagrees.

"God no, I just like hearing all the very talented Midwestern voices." Eddie wiggles his eyebrows to express his sarcasm. "In other words, I enjoy making fun of bad music. I'm only human."

They sit there and give each other pained looks at the bad voices for a few minutes until someone starts trying to drunkenly stumble over the verse to a Nicki Minaj song and then Eddie drags Steve away in anguish.

"Can't take it anymore, Steve. Spare me."

***

The two of them have a good rapport, Steve thinks as they sit on a curb and share a big box of chicken nuggets. Maybe Wayne was right. It's playful. He can see how Eddie and Wayne share a handful of mannerisms and a sense of humor.

"Let's intertwine our arms like newlyweds do when they drink champagne," Steve says with a ketchup-covered chicken nugget in his hand. He wraps an arm around Eddie's and then takes a bite. Eddie follows his lead and giggles.

"I didn't know they did that. I've never been to a wedding." Eddie swallows and reaches for his soda.

"What? Never?"

Eddie shakes his head and looks up at the night sky. It's too cloudy to see any stars, unfortunately.

"My tux is in the car, by the way, should things pan out tonight." Steve jokes.

"I think they're panning." Eddie winks and leans in slightly.

"Oh yeah? Have I lived up to Wayne's description of me?" Steve bats his eyelashes and gives Eddie a sweet little smile.

"You've exceeded it, sweetheart." Eddie picks up Steve's hand and presses a chaste kiss to the inside of his wrist. Steve's heart jumps. When Eddie pulls back, he doesn't pull back far.

"Do you ever kiss on a first date?" Eddie whispers and squeezes Steve's hand. He glances at Steve's lips.

"Mmm, I could be persuaded." Steve feels a heady rush at the fact that he has somehow won the interest of a successful musician who probably meets loads of people every day. Steve reaches forward and tugs at one of Eddie's loose curls. He twists it around his finger and looks up with big doe eyes.

The tension is cut from Eddie's body when Steve looks at him like that. The move has a pretty good success rate at this point. And it doesn't fail him tonight. Eddie rests a hand on the base of Steve's neck. He strokes his thumb back and forth against the hollow of Steve's collarbone and leans in slowly.

Eddie's warm lips press against his own gently, experimentally. Their lips make a sweet sound when the suction is broken and Eddie's immediately reseal against Steve like he's irresistible. It's been forever since Steve kissed anyone, especially anyone worth kissing. He forgot how sweet and floaty it feels.

The hand on Steve's collar slides up so it's lightly holding his neck, it feels quietly possessive. It makes Steve's face heat up. Eddie's free arm wraps around Steve's waist pulling him closer. He lets himself be pulled.

Eddie starts getting more confident and hums softly when Steve weaves a hand into his long hair.

Steve could keep this up for hours, he wants to. But as dark as it is, he doesn't love the idea of continuing this so out in the open. He pulls back with regret.

"Damn, how are you not already taken?" Eddie wipes at Steve's shiny lips with his thumb.

"How are you not already taken? You're the accomplished one." Steve counters, squeezing one of Eddie's knees.

Eddie gathers their trash around them and stuffs it into the paper bag. "Well, I'll be home for a while if you'd want to do this again sometime. I can take you to a nice restaurant next time, I promise." He stands to throw away the trash. "Damn, I don't want the night to be over..."

"It doesn't have to be, you're welcome at mine." Steve leans back on one of his hands and bats his eyelashes up at Eddie.

"My New Year's resolution was to not do first date hookups, though."

"We don't have to, just come hang out." Steve holds an arm out to be pulled up to his feet from where he’s still sitting on the curb.

"Oh, yeah okay. You want me to?" Eddie pulls him to his feet with more force than necessary. It sends them both stumbling and giggling.

"Obviously I want you to."

***

The walk back to the restaurant is much faster than it was at the start of the night. They regretfully have to split at the parking lot, each having their own ride.

"Wait, call me so we can still talk on the way there." Eddie requests before jogging off to Wayne's truck. There really isn't much need to talk on the phone since Steve lives so close, but it's kind of cute that he wants to. Steve hits the call button on Eddie's contact.

"Hello, to whom am I speaking?" Eddie asks in a formal, over-the-top voice.

"This is Steve Harrington. I'm contacting you regarding your car's extended warranty." Steve backs out of his spot and waits for Eddie to do the same before driving out of the parking lot.

"Oh wow, what a coincidence. I was just wondering if my car had an extended warranty." Eddie always plays along, he digs into all of Steve's jokes and finds his own spot to grow there.

Steve drives slower than he normally would so that he doesn't get separated from his date. Eddie doesn't appreciate the sentiment.

"You drive like a grandpa. Has anyone ever told you that?" Eddie laughs and honks his horn. Steve hears it both over the phone and from his window.

"I'm only driving slow so we don't get separated, asshole."

"There's barely anyone on the road tonight to separate us, but it's fine, Steve. I value your safety. Drive at your comfortable geriatric pace."

When they pull up to a red light, Eddie instructs Steve to roll down his window so they can stick their hands out and play Rock Paper Scissors. Steve is so distracted watching Eddie's hand through his side mirror that he misses when the light turns.

"It's green, honey," Eddie alerts him softly through the phone, and Steve apologizes.

He's smiling real big the whole way there and when Steve eventually gets out of the car, Eddie comes up and grabs him from behind.

Eddie plants a few eager kisses on the side of Steve's neck. "You're fun, Steve."

"I'll show you real fun some other time." He jokes and pulls Eddie towards his place.

As soon as Steve opens the door to his apartment, he feels self-conscious about how dull it looks inside. Eddie looks around quietly. His eye catches on a picture of Steve and Robin.

"That's my best friend, Robin." Steve clarifies, just in case Eddie reads it wrong like dates have in the past.

Eddie smiles and pulls Steve back against his chest. "She looks nice."

"Looks can be deceiving." Steve laments which has Eddie chuckling into his shoulder. Eddie rubs at Steve's tummy.

What Steve really wants, what he's been desperate for, for months and months is human touch. He just wants to cuddle so badly. And Eddie doesn't seem the type to cuddle, but looks can be deceiving, so Steve's gonna ask anyway.

"Wanna cuddle and watch trash reality TV?" Steve's shoulders rise to his ears, it's a defensive gesture and he's expecting to be rejected. Eddie looks slightly amused by his offer, but he nods.

***

"So you liked him alright?" Wayne asks smugly patting the counter. Steve nervously watches the back of the store where Amber is reorganizing. Steve shouldn't be having a conversation like this at work while she's around.

"Yes, Wayne." Steve rolls his eyes. "Your nephew is lovely."

"I told him he should come here with me next time. Maybe we'll both visit ya." Wayne looks happy. The corners of his default frown have been pulled upwards by the return of his nephew. He's a good man. Steve thinks if his kid was only home a few weeks he'd want to hoard all of his attention, surely not set him up on dates.

And that's the thing about Wayne, it seems like he puts the people he cares about first. Steve wonders if Wayne is all that lonely when Eddie's gone, or if he just comes into the store so often because he knows Steve is.

"I'd love that." Steve hopes things work out with the Munsons.

[dollishmehrayan]

BATBOYS WITH A STYLISH READER ── .✦

a/n: so I tried to base this off of me because I like genuinely LOVE fashion and creativity (my closet is seriously so full rn but I keep buying and buying but soon I’m gonna donate some pieces I never wore/ won’t wear again when i’m like moving in 5/6 months (in April) but anyways yeahh this is requested by the wonderful @luvly_writer (I GENUINELY DONT KNOW WHY MY MENITONS ARENT WORKING TODAY!?!?

tags: (batboys x stylish reader ᥫ᭡)

DICK GRAYSON ── .✦

Dick’s always had a decent sense of fashion, but after meeting you, he realized his wardrobe could use some spicing up.

“Okay, I need help,” he says, holding up his closet of endless leather jackets and dark jeans. “It’s starting to feel like I’m a character in a some main character show..” (this tiktok HELPP here)

You pull together a sleek but casual look for him, fitted trousers, a patterned button-up, and a blazer. When he sees himself in the mirror, he whistles.

“Are you sure I’m not about to walk the runway?”

He loves when you add your flair to his outfits, often saying, “This is why I’m with you.”

Eventually, Dick starts mimicking your style in small ways—accessories, boots, and bolder colors. He’ll even joke, “You’re rubbing off on me in more ways than one.”

JASON TODD ── .✦

Jason scoffs at the idea at first. “I don’t need to be styled. My leather jacket and boots are timeless, I don’t need like bags and purses like you.”

But then he starts noticing the way you turn heads wherever you go and how people always stop you to ask where you got your hat or etc from, and he gets curious.

One day, he half-jokingly says, “Alright, fashionista. Make me look less like I just rolled out of a biker gang.”

You have so much fun dressing him in a sharp, dark button-up, fitted jeans, and Chelsea boots. When you suggest a leather trench coat instead of his usual jacket, he raises an eyebrow but ends up loving it.

“I look like a villain trying blow up something in broad daylight,” he says, smirking. “But, like, a hot one.”

Jason doesn’t fully change his wardrobe, but he starts incorporating your suggestions—better fits, fewer holes in his shirts, and maybe a sweater or two. He always claims it’s to “shut you up,” but deep down, he loves how confident it makes him feel when his s/o chooses stuff for him.

TIM DRAKE ── .✦

Tim’s wardrobe is functional. It’s not bad because there’s a DIFFERENCE, Timothy drake wayne dresses in suits and is high end and chic but regular tim well… tim Is tim but he DOES care about what he wears just not like that serious about it, but it’s very much “guy who spends more time in front of a computer than a mirror.”

One day, he asks, “Do you think I should update my wardrobe? You know, to look… presentable?”

You practically light up, dragging him out for a shopping spree.

He’s a little overwhelmed by how excited you are, but he secretly loves the attention.

You pick out layered outfits—hoodies with tailored jackets, clean sneakers, and pants that actually fit. When he tries them on, he’s surprised at how good he looks.

“So this is what it feels like to be stylish,” he muses.

Over time, Tim starts borrowing pieces of your style. He’ll wear scarves, experiment with glasses frames, and even tuck his shirts in occasionally. You catch him researching minimalist fashion on Pinterest once, and he sheepishly admits, “You’re a bad influence.”

DAMIAN WAYNE ── .✦

Damian has a sharp sense of style already (thanks, Talia and Bruce), but he finds himself intrigued by your unique flair.

“You have a good eye for aesthetics,” he says one day, almost shyly. “Perhaps you could lend me some… insight.”

Styling Damian is like working with a blank canvas—he’s open to trying new things as long as it doesn’t compromise his dignified image.

You help him experiment with layered textures, sleek boots, and subtle patterns. He refuses anything too colorful but surprises you by agreeing to a deep emerald green blazer.

“I look… distinguished,” he admits, staring at his reflection.

He starts taking inspiration from your wardrobe, incorporating more modern and creative touches into his outfits. Every now and then, he’ll ask, “What do you think of this?” before leaving for an event.

Damian also becomes oddly protective of your style. If someone tries to copy you, he’ll say something like, “Flattery may be the sincerest form of imitation, but it’s wasted when done poorly.”

BRUCE WAYNE ── .✦

Bruce is already a style icon, but when he starts noticing the effortless way you put together outfits, he gets curious.

“What would you do with this suit?” he asks, gesturing to one of his many black ensembles.

You tease him for being so predictable but suggest a few changes—adding a pocket square, switching up his tie, and choosing a dark navy instead of black.

When he steps out in the new look, even Alfred raises an approving eyebrow.

“Now I’ll have to think about my outfits.”

He begins to take subtle cues from your style, occasionally asking for your opinion before galas. You catch him sneaking glances at your Pinterest boards once, and he pretends it’s for “business purposes” (you had to private your pin board after because he keeps buying 10 of each of what you put on your Pinterest board.)

[unluckilyimnot]

it’s summer were I live so everyone’s wearing two pieces and was thinking maybe what’s Rin, Isagi, Nagi and whoever else’s you want, seeing there girlfriend/ s/o in a bikini <3

no pressure ofc! And thx if you do it! Luv your stuff <33

seeing their s/o in bikini - i.rin, i.yoichi, n.seishiro, i.sae, k.tabito

m.list I rules

note: hiii thank you sm for your request ! i hope i did it well hihi

i'm rather busy lately and for the coming week as well so i'll take some time to do the requests you guys sent but i'll do it !

Itoshi Rin 

he’s normal about it (no)

he likes the beach a lot as well, so it’s only normal for him to plane date there - even more during summer 

like you could have a small picnic before enjoying the water 

he only saw you in one piece until now so the second you take off your shirt and he saw more skin he panic

but only inside

outside he’s there, taking a look, he nods and tells you something like “i’ve never seen this one, it’s new ?” and you proceed to explain him where you get it and who was with you

the tip of his ears is red but he blames it on the heat and the sun - you’ll never catch him confessing he's flustered 

he’s always been playful but suddenly holding a lot more 

he likes it a lot, he can’t help it but looking at you head to toes a few times when you're not looking 

but he's the jealous type so he’s making sure to cover you with a timid smile if he see anyone looking a little too much in your way 

Hates it honestly when it happens but you're head order heel for him and it shows so it's fine 

Isagi Yoichi

he’s a pool guy and here to play 

aquatic park are his fav and ofc he has to take you with him

He's a blushing mess when he sees you after changing up 

He doesn't know where to look he's scared to offense you 

He wants to be respectful, you're just too pretty for him to not look for time to time

He stutters a lot when he talks to you at first, which makes you chuckles a lot 

But he quickly get over it and just tell you a thousand times how pretty you are

He's just sweet and tell you how the color suit you or things like that

Nagi Seishiro

reo must have a pool lol

He just stay sitting by and watch you two play and swim 

Mostly you bc it doesn't happens a lot 

He's quiet I think, just checking you out and taking note that you have scars or stretch marks here and there

He wants to poke you so if you decide to take a break next to him, he'll poke your side and shoulder 

He compliments you as if it's nothing, kinda implying how much he watched like “the shape is nice” referring to your chest 

You can pull him into the water after that, he knows it will happen 

But he's ready to start a fight then but honestly he'll blush the second your chest is comes near him 

He likes it just so he can hug you to be honest 

He almost drown you by accident with his weight 

He's relatively simple minded (I love him)

Itoshi Sae

it happens quickly in your relationship honestly he loves the sea too much 

He's, in fact, normal about it 

But he has to admit that he likes it and it suits you well hihi

He's just a girl 

He's probably more annoying about wearing your sunscreen correctly 

He gladly helps to rub it on your back 

He enjoys the view - probably blush a little when you're not looking as well 

He side eyes people around, even kids (in a playful way obviously) 

He lies the two pieces but he's only looking at your butt keys be honest 

Karasu Tabito

He get the privilege to help you choose one for a future afternoon with your friends 

Act fool ™ 

He even get to select some that he liked before you try it on 

He tries to not stare too much and just be helpful 

The tip of his ears are probably red on the first few one that you tried 

If he'll be honest, he would say he likes them all 

But he also know how you feel about your body and tries to be more critical so you won't feel insecure 

In the end he honestly wants to go with you at the pool or on the beach one day just to enjoy it as well 

Respectful king in the end 

I hope you liked it !

[abby-howard]

I'm going to be asking a lot of artists I follow this question, but how did you develop your style? It SEEMS like most people find their style and stick with it forever, just making improvements and iterations. I tend to work in a lot of different styles because I enjoy doing that, though I know there are things I gravitate towards as well. But I wonder what your journey was and how you got feedback and improved while staying true to what you enjoyed?

Hi there!

I definitely wouldn't say that I've found my style and stuck with it forever-- I feel like each of my projects has asked for a certain kind of art, and has presented new challenges that push me in new directions.

Some of that comes from seeing someone else's work and having something click into place that might fix errors/faults in my own, and then I might try to incorporate that, such as bigger outlines on my characters to help distinguish them from the background, or maybe a way someone else simplifies eyes that can help make mine look less weird.

When I first started drawing, I can see where I encountered certain influences because my sketchbooks suddenly switch to incorporating some new stylistic element that I liked from whatever I was reading/watching at the time. But it was never QUITE right, it was never just copying, there was always something ~wrong~ with it. And that wrongness was my style! As much as I hated it, that was what distinguished my art from being just a copy of someone else's. I hate it less now, and understand that other people see something there that maybe I don't, because it's just what happens when I filter other people's work through my head. My soul, if you will.

There are definitely through-lines with my work, driven by what I like drawing and what comes easily to me-- hatching is almost always a major component, and I like making expressive characters. Here's some of my earliest available stuff, from my old webcomic:

Then not long after that, I started The Last Halloween, which pushed me to challenge myself in both layout and style:

And here's the same comic, years later:

And here's a series I did for kids, where I had to use full color and lay off on the hatching, as well as learn how to reconstruct animals that we have no photo references for, which is definitely a place where style comes majorly into play, whether I wanted it to or not:

Then there was the horror book I did, where I tried to push my work to be less cartoony overall, and to work very hard on improving my hatching:

Then I started work on Scarlet Hollow, where I incorporated a limited/muted palette and had to once again push myself to make less-cartoony art, as well as learn more consistency so I could draw sprite sets. This was a big challenge for me, and has helped me grow as an artist so much!

And most recently, I wrapped up work on Slay the Princess, which required that I go back in the cartoony direction, but in a very different way than I was used to. This took a lot of sketching to figure out, and there's still a decent amount of artistic stumbling in Chapter 1 while I settled into it.

She's drawing on anime/Disney influence, but each Princess required a bit of stylistic variability. Some are more anime, while some are more realistic than even the Scarlet Hollow characters.

So I wouldn't worry too much, honestly! A person's style is often something that reveals itself over the course of their career, rather than something they choose and then try to stick to forever.

Even if you don't think you have a style, you do. It might vary a lot piece by piece, especially if you're trying to closely imitate another person's art, but the more work you do, the more you'll figure out your own strengths and interests!

[jarofstyles]

Y/N goes over to her friends house to sleepover but then her friend somehow makes plans like while Y/N is still there but she can’t leave cause her friend was her ride. what she doesn’t know is her best friends brother (harry) is home and sees this all happening and is angry because his sister always doing this to Y/N so he spends the night with her

I am a complete sucker for best friend’s brother H… completely down bad so yes !! I got carried away so maybe I’ll continue this as a one shot, I don’t know.

Check out our Patreon

——

“What are you still doin’ here?” Harry stopped short as he passed the den, seeing Y/N sitting stiffly with her phone in hand. It wasn’t unlike her to be at their place, but he had heard his sister’s car leave 30 minutes prior. He knew they’d had plans, as they usually did during the weekend, so it had caught him off guard.

That, and the fact that he’d have put a shirt on if he knew she was around.

Y/N startled slightly as she looked up at him wide eyed. She didn’t have time to hide her bloodshot eyes or the fact her makeup was messed up, making his confusion grow.

The fuck had happened?

“Hey… hey, what happened? Thought you both were goin’ out to that new place for your birthday weekend.” He walked towards the couch to see that she was indeed dressed up. A cute little black dress and her hair straightened, glitter on her eyelids. Heels were kicked off to the side and she had her nails done in a deep red, something very unlike her. Harry paid a little too much attention to her, it seemed, and it wasn’t her normal soft pastel colored nails with a pretty design. She looked different.

Like she was trying to be the stereotypical version of sexy or something. He couldn’t exactly tell her that her normal looks were sexy in the cute, girl next door way, but this was more vixen, tear your heart out sort of thing. With a lot of shame, he momentarily wished the smeared makeup and tear tracks had been caused by choking on his cock rather than something birthing her heart- but that wasn’t something he should be thinking about right now.

“Um…” her noise was slightly nasally from the crying, eyes avoiding his gaze as he tenderly sat himself on the coffee table in front of her. “We were supposed to. But she… that guy she was seeing asked her to come to a quick trip.” Picking at her nails, she took a shuddery breath. “So she asked if we could do stuff next weekend.”

Harry’s brows furrowed at the situation. It didn’t make much sense, but neither did his sister. Unfortunately, he had seen that Livvy was one of those people who dropped everything for a man. She could have friends or a boyfriend. Both were a struggle for her.

Honestly, he’d been shocked that Y/N stuck around long as she had. He loved his sister to bits, but he wasn’t oblivious to her faults. Being boy crazy had never faired well for her friendships. Sometimes he had seen how she swooped in and took attention away from Y/N. He knew she loved her and cared about her, but his sister had some serious issues when it came to jealousy.

Y/N was ridiculously pretty. He’d been warned away from her, sure, but he had eyes. And a weird little distant crush he’d felt for her the last few years she’d come around. They had a polite friendship, but Livvy had been irritated about it and told him to keep a distance. Still, he knew she had to be jealous. They were both different types of pretty. He didn’t think much of his sister all things considered, but he thought a lot about the type of pretty Y/N was. It sort of thumped you in the chest and grew the longer you looked at her. And when you talked to her? Forget it. She was so fucking kind and attentive, one of those people you never doubted were listening to you. She was a little quiet at first but came out of her shell the longer he was around, and he’d liked everything he’d seen from her.

“That’s shit.” He whispered. “It’s your birthday weekend. It won’t be the same next weekend.” However that was the wrong thing to say, considering her eyes filled back with tears and he felt like he’d been kicked in the stomach. “Fuck, I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m sorry.” Reaching out for her hand, he squeezed lightly as he tried to make it better.

Maybe Livvy would be pissed about it later but she’d have no room to complain when it was her doing. When she got back he was going to chew her out, tell her how good of a friend Y/N was and how lucky she was to have her- but for now? It was his mission to make her happy.

Y/N was going to have a good birthday weekend. He’d be sure of it.

“Listen. Let me go get dressed and we’ll go out t’eat. Okay?” Maybe he was a little presumptuous by thinking she’d want to spend time with him, but he had to imagine she was upset because she didn’t have other plans. “We’ll go out to eat and then go to the store t’get your favorite snacks and stuff. Can even bake a cake if you want. We’ll come back n’eat and watch whatever trash reality show or cheesy movie you want. You can sleep in the guest room and I’ll make you breakfast tomorrow or I’ll pick you up… I’ve got the weekend off.”

Harry was getting ahead of himself by assuming she’d want to spend the weekend together but he really fucking wanted to. He never got to spend alone time with her. How could he possibly complain about spending his weekend with a pretty girl?

“You’d… you’d really want to do that?” Her eyes met his in disbelief. “Don’t you have other plans or something? I don’t want to bother you. I swear I didn’t sit here to get pity, I just need to call an Uber or something and I can leave-“

“I don’t have any other plans. I really don’t mind. It would be fun to get out and do something. We don’t have to.” He reassured, reaching out to fix her hair. It has stuck to her damp face and he knew it had to be uncomfortable. “I know we don’t hang out a lot or anything but I consider us friends. My sister is extremely shitty for doing this but I really would like to make sure you have a good birthday. If you’re uncomfortable-“

“I’m not!” She peeped, grabbing his arm. “Not at all. I just don’t want to ruin your plans.”

“Well, my plans are now yours. Let’s get dressed and go out for our own celebration, shall we?”

[nappingmoon]

quick lil fluffy blurb about toji <33

thinking about married, domestic life with toji and you come home from coffee with your girlfriends to an empty house. you call out for him and hear a little "outside" ring in through the open window. its a beautiful late spring day as you walk onto your porch outside and see your husband, shirtless, hunched over what looks to be half of a cabinet, wooden planks and screws. you approach taking in the way the muscles in his back work in tandem with each other as he works to sand some of the edges of the wood. a bit of sweat drips down by his brow, the exertion taking its toll even as a light breeze whisks through the air. it catches in your dress, the soft fabric fluttering around your legs as you come to stand behind him.

"what are you making, toji? it's been a while since you've pulled out your woodworking stuff, did you find a new project?" you ask trying to peek at all of the pieces he has.

"saw ya geekin out over a cabinet on your pinterest board. figured it wasn't too hard ta make from scratch, no big deal or nothing. how was lunch with the girls?"

"what cab-" you start, but think back to the little board you had dedicated to pieces you wanted to decorate your home with. most of them were just fragments of a dream cottage you'd conjured in your head but recently, you couldn't stop thinking about maybe splurging on a gorgeous piece to give you a little more storage and a space to show off the books you had bought recently and the little clay statue your toddler made you in his art class. "shut up you are not making the white cabinet oh my god!" your voices rises nearly two octaves in excitement and disbelief. "how did you even see that! when did you get a pinterest account?"

"you made me get one so i could see the board you dedicated to us, princess. i hop on it every couple'a months ta see what you're thinking about. saw this thing ya keep adding to your collections and had some pieces left over after the swing chair. jus' bought a few more boards n' hinges. wanted to wait for you before getting paint in case you wanted a different color." you truly could burst from all of the love you had inside of you for this man. he wasn't always the best with words, but actions like these made reminded you every day why you said yes all those years ago.

left speechless, you simply lean over his back and throw your arms around his neck, pressing a big fat kiss to his cheek, hoping he feels the love radiate from you to him. "hey, get off, doll. m' all sweaty!" he says, bringing a hand to your shoulder and lightly pushing. you ignore his protest and tighten your arms before laying a small assault of kisses all over the side of his face. when you're satisfied, you pull back, seeing a small hint of fading red kiss marks left from your lip stick.

"thank you, toji. so much. can i help you with anything?" you ask, giddy.

"'ve got things covered here, doll. 'm a little thirsty though, would ya mind getting me a water or something?" he replies, and you twirl immediately, eager to fix him up a cold lemonade and some fruit. before you can get a step away and tell him 'of course,' his hand reaches up and grabs yours, tugging you back. you nearly fall but he's got you with a steady hand at the small of your back. he leans over and steals a kiss from your stunned form. "that's better. thanks babe." he says as he releases you, leaving a light pat on your butt before he crouches back down over the planks he still needed to sand.

what a gorgeous day.

[puckinghischier]

What do you think Quinn would do for a grand gesture when he was missing his girl?

seeing as he’s a sentimental sort, considering the gift he gave luke, i know he’d do something so over the top in the best way.

he’d already have bought you every long distance gadget in existence. the bracelets that vibrate when you touch them to let the other person know you’re thinking of them. the smart fridge he can leave notes from his phone on for you to wake up to in the morning. the lamp that glows a certain color when the other person misses you. the iphone widget he can draw pictures of flowers on before the real thing is delivered to your door.

he’d make sure he had every opportunity to make sure you knew he was thinking about you, even when he’s busy and on the road. sometimes a message or a vibration from a bracelet is all he had time for, but it was enough for you.

for him? nothing could ever replace being in your presence. he needed to see you, touch you, hear your voice. this past season had been rough. being away from you for so long, he was miserable. he found himself being distracted by thoughts of when he could get back home to you during practice or while warming up for a game. he was rushing post game media so he could call you before you fell asleep. he was skipping team bonding to facetime you and catch up on your day.

so, he started putting a plan into motion. he hoped it wouldn’t scare you off or freak you out, but he was too deep into it now to back out.

you had noticed he’d been spending a lot of time on the phone with his agent lately, assuming it was some negotiation for a brand or sponsorship. you knew it couldn’t have anything to do with his spot on the canucks, both the team and quinn loving the other too much to part ways.

but he started acting weird. he started being jumpy when you’d ask him about his conversations with his agent, curious as to what’s taking up so much of his time lately.

“just contract stuff. you know, i have to renew it soon and there’s all kinds of stuff that goes into that. brad’s just trying to get me the best bang for my buck,” he’d nervously chuckle, changing the subject quickly.

you were cleaning up the kitchen one day after making lunch, quinn having had to go to the rink for some kind of business meeting, he told you. you hear the door open and his keys fall into the bowl on the dining room table, a soft call of your name ringing through the space.

he walks into the kitchen to find you finishing up the last few dishes, making small talk until you’re finished and join him over at the end of the long island.

“whatcha got there, q?” you question curiously, noticing how he hasn’t let go of the paper once since walking through the door.

“oh, this? well, we need to talk about it, actually.” his nervous tone makes you nervous, worried about what’s on the piece of official looking paper.

“okay…” you trail off, not enjoying the nervous energy engulfing the room.

he clears his throat, running his fingers along the edges of the paper repeatedly, forcing himself to keep looking you in the eyes.

“so, you know how i bought you all those things to let you know i’m thinking of you when i’m not on the road? the bracelet, the lamp, the new fridge, the flowers and notes?” he lists off all the heartfelt things he’s given you over the course of your relationship, a smile taking over your face as you nod at him.

the smile on your face gives him a bit more confidence, more sure of his decision than he was just a few moments ago.

“okay, well, i can’t do that anymore. those bracelets? the lamp? the messages on the fridge? they’re not enough. they’re not cutting it anymore.”

your heart sinks. what does he mean it’s not enough? if it’s enough for you, why isn’t it enough for him? he’s the one that’s gone all the time. you’re the one who has to stay here and wait for him to come back. is this paper a new lease? is he kicking you out? breaking up with you?

you take a step back from him, your head filling with all kinds of negative thoughts as to what’s on that paper in his hand.

“quinn, i-i don’t understand. what do you mean-“

“please, just let me finish. i need to get this out and then you can ask me all the questions you want. and yell at me, if you feel the need,” he interrupts you, putting a hand up in between the two of you.

your mouth snaps shut, tears threatening to spill any second.

“like i said, the superficial stuff just isn’t enough anymore. if i can’t have you with me all the time, i don’t know if i can keep doing this. all of this. it’s killing me. i know it’s my fault i’m gone, but my god i miss you so much it hurts me,” he continues his speech, not picking up on the shake in your hands.

“quinn, you don’t have to do this. we can…figure something else out. i miss you too when you’re gone. so much,” your shaky voice tries to reason with him, not wanting to hear him say the words out loud.

he holds a hand up to silence you, effectively stopping your words.

“my mind’s already made up. already signed my name and everything, even if brad did think i was crazy,” quinn keeps going, confusing you even more.

what did his agent have to do with him breaking up with you and kicking you off of the lease you just signed together?

you don’t have time to ask him, because he lays the paper in front of you, sliding it towards you. “here, just read it for yourself.”

you pick up the thick paper, noting the canucks emblem stamped into the top of the document, your eyes falling to the long paragraphs taking up the majority of the page.

there’s one section that’s highlighted, marked to stand out specifically for your eyes.

“the canucks organization, in agreement with quintin j. hughes, hereby provides transportation, accommodations, and admission to 10 (ten) away games of his choice during regular season hockey, and every meeting of post-season playoffs if necessary, to one person of his choice, contingent of his reporting to canucks sponsored activities such as: games, practice, training camps….”

it takes your brain a few moments to catch up to what you’re reading.

he…rewrote his contract for you. he, somehow, convinced an entire organization to write into his contract a clause to be able to take you with him to games during the season. you look up at him, his nervous stare meeting your eyes.

you start laughing.

quinn was nervous for a lot of things. he was worried you’d freak out and say he was crazy for this. he was worried you’d be mad at him and tell him you didn’t want to go on road trips with him. he didn’t know if you’d cry or jump with joy or walk out on him.

but he never expected you to laugh at him.

you can’t control your laughter. you try, but it just keeps coming, every attempt at containing it only making you laugh harder.

“i don’t understand. what’s so funny here?” quinn manages the courage to ask, voice shaky and embarrassed.

you manage to calm your fit enough to gain a fraction of decorum back, taking a few deep breaths before responding.

“quinn, i thought you were breaking up with me.”

quinn’s eyes widen, not expecting the words out of your mouth at all.

“no, i- why would you think that?” he rushes out, walking towards you.

you wipe the tears from your eyes, trying to calm yourself even further.

“well, i don’t know. the way you worded it had me convinced you were bringing me a new lease you’d signed without my name on it or something. thought you were kicking me out,” you chuckle only slightly at the end of your explanation.

quinn grabs your face in his calloused hands, gently forcing you to look at him.

“i hope you know, i would never break up with you. not by kicking you out of the apartment, much less. if anything you’d be the one kicking me out.”

“well i sure hope not. according to your contract, we have eight more years of roadies in our future. think those accommodations would be real awkward if you kicked me out. wonder if petey would let me bunk with him?”

[scorpioriesling]

TikTok Thirst Traps

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Featuring: Rhysand, Cassian, Azriel, Lucien, Eris, & Tamlin

Warning(s): none

Summary: Nothing much, just the ACOTAR males as TikTok stereotypes / thirst traps.

SR’s Note: Guys I’m soooo sorry I swear I’m working on Invisible String and THTH — I have so much personal life stuff going on too and it’s been hard finding time to write! Anyways, here’s a little sum sum in the meantime for you all. <3

Tags: @mellowmusings @rcarbo1 @lilah-asteria @kitsunetori @velarisdusk (inbox me or comment if you'd like to be added!)

･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Rhysand

major businessman / entrepreneur vibes for rhys’ thirst traps

a man in a suit is just… *chef’s kiss*

he has money and he knows it and does not care to show it on social media

his page is definitely a dark colored theme, most of his attire is black, and he comes across super professional

however

he knows what the ladies like

occasionally his car will make an appearance, or what he would deem “risqué” (ahem, the middle inspiration photo)

doesn’t care too much about comments… he actually finds that the women who frequently spam his page are a bit annoying more than anything

regardless, he would never say anything rude to anyone

keeps his pages mostly professional to avoid conflict in the workplace; but lets be honest, everyone in his office is down bad for this man, he’s not getting in any kind of trouble

genuinely couldn’t find just one that was a perfect fit for rhys, but his page comes very close if it were a bit darker themed and more luxurious / CEO-ish? is that a word? more suit content? you get the gist

Cassian

i almost feel like it’s a given that his tik tok thirst traps would be the “gym bro” / hot guy workout videos

a lot of these are simply him working out, not necessarily trying to get girls attention or anything but simply provide content for his fitness account

to take this a step further— when the girlies start commenting on his posts with emojis and such, he gets a little flustered. he wasn’t expecting this… he just lifts, that’s all

but, he can’t complain

his page is chaotic; videos of him lifting, flexing, what he eats to stay in shape, and even some videos of self reflection

it’s the comments like, “let me come to the gym with you!” or “you could lift me instead” etc that he turns into videos of how to get into working out / body building… not realizing the girlies just like to look at him. lol

he would respond to just about every comment with something kind or positive, even if it was sexual / silly in nature he’d find a way to make light of it

best example i could find would be this man

Azriel

i think we already know modern!az is a biker boy. there. i rest my case. that’s all.

i’m kidding

he thrives off the attention from booktok ladies; he doesn’t respond much, but he secretly reads every comment / mention / dm and takes every suggestion seriously when considering new content to create

yes, he films a few with a scream mask on

again, i rest my case

of course he has a darker themed page, lots of slow bass music on his videos and many videos of him riding at night

he’s always in a tight tee to show off his body that he’s spend years honing — and yes, he knows the girls love his arms too

not too much humor online from this guy. no full face reveal either.

however, when he reveals his smile for the first time…

let’s say his followers just about loose their minds

there’s so many tik tok pages like this yall already know what im talking about… here’s an example in case you don’t

Lucien

at first, he didn’t follow trends or do any kind of thirst traps of any kind. he thought those were kind of dumb and mainly used the app to send funny videos to his friends

however

lucien is creative, and his outlet here is music

apparently being a sassy redhead wasn’t enough, so he started filming himself playing his guitar

shirtless… of course.

the jump in followers may have prompted him to continue filming such content… or maybe the types of comments he was getting to boost that ego of his HAHA

anyways, his vibe is more acoustic / beachy / peaceful and light, very beach boy vibes with him but he will dabble in the electric guitar all the same once he gets used to playing it

per mentioned previously, he used to not make many videos, but now that he does, he finds himself being very real on this app and a lot of times recording small snippets of his own songs and talking into the camera

he enjoys the comments that show he is clearly capable of snagging the attention of the ladies; however, he responds to a lot of the ones that pertain to his talent and are interested in more than just his pretty face <3

i like this example best, with a lighter / more beachy and acoustic aesthetic … this may be more accurate

Eris

i’m really hoping you guys understand what i’m going for with this one… eris cooks.

like, very handsome, very demure, very good looking, cooking alone, but also… he knows what he’s doing and likes to play with his food, so to speak.

walk with me here.

he knows that a man with expensive taste already gets the ladies going. but a man with expensive taste AND in the kitchen? sir-

he will show every skill he has. baking, cooking, mixology…

and of course, some implied skills as well

he reads his comments — especially the ones where the girlypops are horny on main. he doesn’t give af; he loves that shit. in fact, keep it coming

sensual music, low lighting, expensive clothes… he’s a man that gets it. he could get it. and he knows that.

i think his videos would be a combo of this page and this page if you can use your imagination

Tamlin

tamlin is a hot ass, gentlemanly, mothafuckin cowboy and i will die on that hill — don’t play with me

while some videos are very pg, very church-boy, very homegrown… there are also the shirtless, sweaty, pickup-truck ones

don’t lie. you know exactly what i’m talking about.

he is a built dude. he works all day in the sun, he’s very caring for his land and the animals that live on it, and when he realized the attention he got from filming himself doing simple things around the ranch…

boy oh boy.

it started with simple things — throwing hay bales, riding horseback, etc…

but then he read his comments. people wanted more. the pretty ladies on the tik tok wanted more.

so he yanked off his shirt and jumped on the trends.

did he particularly like it? no. he didn’t like filming himself walking around his oversized pickup in just his jeans and boots, the sun kissing his skin over the rim of his hat…

but what he did enjoy was the cuties in his DMs and all their sweet messages for him.

he was a countryman at heart, so naturally his page was filled with images of the great outdoors and him in it — though many of his comments went unanswered. he was a bit shy, as social media wasn’t something he liked to use regularly

nonetheless, he did enjoy reading positive feedback after a long hard day of work

his feed would look a lil like this or THIS

ﾟ:* ✧

[kurooh]

Thanks sweetie🥺🥺

Can't believe my boys don't have a birthday💀 ALSO, now I can't stop thinking about riding Ino in the backseat and hearing him whimpering🫣

🐺

⊹ ₊˚. TEST DRIVE. car shopping with ino goes in another direction when you’re looking around the backseat.

warnings. 18+ content — mdni, f! reader, fluff, cowgirl, car sex, ino’s whimpers, cockwarming, creampie

xoxo, juno. happy birthday again <33 🎉

“she runs well, don’t you think?” ino’s fingers squeeze your thigh as he takes the car down the road, cruising along smoothly. despite a few bumps in the asphalt, the car cushions them with a bounce so that neither of you feel it.

“this is a pretty nice car, babe,” you sigh, leaning back in your seat and savoring the view of the sunset through the tree leaves.

since your last shared car broke down, ino decided to take you shopping for a new one. he prefers the sports cars, and wanted to take one out for a test drive, but you’d told him absolutely not. knowing him, it would be easy to get carried away and then end up having to pay thousands after an accidental crash.

“do you like the color? we can always get it wrapped with your favorite,” he turns to you with a wink, beanie sagging on the back of his head while stray hairs hang around his forehead.

“always so thoughtful,” you laugh, “i think the fact that this car runs well is more important than the color. oh, wait, we didn’t look around at the trunk to see how much space it has.”

“shit, you’re right,” ino agrees, turning on his directional just before pulling off to the side of the road, tires sliding on a patch of grass. he unlocks his door but doesn’t unlock yours, making you roll your eyes.

“give me the keys—”

“ahem. you may step out now, m’lady.” before you know it, ino’s raced over to the passenger side to considerately open your door for you.

“come here,” you hold your arms out, jumping onto him happily, and he spins in a circle with a laugh. “ugh, you’re such a cutie.”

he giggles, his beanie slipping off the back of his head and onto the grass. you’re quick to pick it up and put it on your head, and he kisses your forehead with a chuckle.

“you’re almost rocking it better than me.”

“that would be a true statement if you didn’t use the word ‘almost’.”

ino hits a button on the key fob, effectively popping open the trunk for you to both look into. it’s spacious, with plenty of room for groceries or whatever else you may be driving around with.

“backseat,” you instruct, closing the trunk and opening the back doors. ino climbs in beside you, thoroughly impressed.

“well, well, well,” he strokes his chin with a finger, eyes closing in faux contemplation. “this is quite a nice backseat, wouldn’t you agree? it’s very roomy, in my opinion.”

“mmm, yeah,” you play along, laying down and resting your head on his thigh. “i can even lay down fully without being cramped. you should try it too, taku.”

“really now?” and you nod, sitting up and scooting over to where he’s sitting. ino lays back, knees bent just a little because you’re taking up some of the space.

“this is quite a nice backseat,” you both fight back your laughter, playing along with the dumb little scene. it’s clear you’re both thinking the same thing when the smiles fall from your faces the second you’re straddling his waist, squeezing him between your thighs.

“wow, hot stuff. look so good wearing my beanie.” his tone is playful as his hands squeeze your hips, making you roll your eyes as you lean forward.

“shut up and give me a kiss, taku.”

ino’s lips meet yours in an impatient, hungry kiss. the force behind it is practically bruising as he sneaks a few light bites to your lower lip to get you to open up. your lips part around a gasp as you start to bounce on his lap, feeling his hard cock through all the layers of clothes.

“s-shit,” he whines, back arching and lips pulling away from yours after a particularly hard drag of your hips against his. “baby, i want these off.” he tugs at your shorts, quickly shimmying out of his jeans and sweeping up the hem of his shirt to expose his belly.

“what do you want, hm?” you ask, shorts and panties off. your ass is up as you kiss at his belly, fingers sweeping beneath his waistband.

“uh, i-i want to be inside you,” ino swallows, fingernails digging into his palms as you slip off his boxers, exposing his hard cock to the air.

you giggle, blowing out some air on it, and he bites back a whimper, hips twisting. “doors are locked, right?” you ask, distracting him. he pulls out the key fob and fumbles with it, locking the doors and almost popping the trunk in his haste.

“calm down, taku,” and your voice is honeyed and sweet as you plant a hand on his stomach, slowly lowering yourself down onto his cock. the head nudges between your folds and grows sticky with a mix of precum and your own slick.

just a little grinding and kissing, and you’re both this desperate. it’s impressive, really, the way you’re already trembling and he’s biting marks into his lower lip as he wills himself not to cum yet. the beanie on your head combined with the way you’re panting as you rub your wet cunt along the length of his cock is too much.

“d-don’t,” ino huffs out, and you look up at him. “don’t start up with that damn teasing, please don’t. baby, i need you right here, right now.”

“patience,” you answer, swallowing at the sight of cars racing by from the corner of your eye.

“come on, i just want you to—” he cuts himself off with an embarrassed noise, throwing an arm over his eyes. “you know i don’t say this often, b-but, i want you to fuck me.”

“taku, you know i will,” you let out a breathy gasp as you sink down on his cock, moving so slowly that he’s forced to buck upwards. in one movement, his cock is fully sheathed inside you, wrapped by your twitching walls. his throat bobs as you start to move, eyes widening as he watches your pussy eagerly swallow his whole cock.

oh god, is it possible to get lightheaded from sex?

only thoughts of pleasure race through your empty head as you fuck yourself onto his cock, breath hitching each time his tip hits your cervix. he’s so deep, so big — the perfect size.

ino’s enchanted, tears building in his eyes as he watches the delicious bounce of your tits and savors every single moan that falls from your lips. your pussy’s so wet and warm, comforting in a way that nothing else could ever be — fuck, is he really about to cum this quickly?

you notice as his breathing grows frantic, heat rushing through your body at the prospect of him finishing this quickly; excitement chases it, the idea of overstimulating him electrifying. you’re squeezing around him like a vice, pussy eager to drink in everything he’s got, and it’s hard to hold on.

“babe, baby,” he huffs out, his voice tight. “kiss me, i want a kiss.”

ino’s hands help you lean forward, fingers digging into your sides as his lips mesh against yours. once again, a perfect fit — he’s so in love, so absolutely infatuated with you in every single way someone could be. the loose beanie slips forward, off your head, onto his face.

you giggle, pulling away to fix it; his lips drag along your cheek as you adjust it on his own head, hips pausing momentarily. he’s so cute like this — a flush high on his cheeks, eyes glassy, lips pulled into a pout as he waits for you to hurry up with his beanie. if you’re still busy with that thing in the next three seconds, ino swears he’ll throw it out the damn window.

“you okay?” you pant, hands falling away from his head and cupping his face.

“i was worried you’d take forever with that thing,” he confesses with a laugh, hips thrusting up. “still got the energy to ride me?”

“i’m just getting started,” you roll your eyes, picking up a quick pace and bouncing on his cock. it happens fast — within a minute, he’s as close as he was before, weakly rutting his hips upwards while you shove them down with your own.

ino’s fingers wander to your clit and he rubs sloppy circles on the sensitive nub, whining deliciously at your body’s immediate response.

“‘s good, taku, keep going,” he thinks his name sounds best when it’s coming from your mouth.

despite how overwhelmed he is, ino’s fingers don’t falter, and with his free hand he gestures for you to lean on top of him like earlier. he tucks his face into your neck, tears pouring down his cheeks and wetting your skin.

white hot pleasure races through your body, bolting between your legs like lightning. “t-takuma, baby,” you huff out, gasping into his skin as you squeeze around him frantically, “‘m gonna cum— want you to with me, please—”

a needy moan tears from your lips and his skin absorbs it, your hips stuttering against his with a few last smacks of skin against skin. before you know it, you’re cumming hard, barely able to hear his words over the pounding of your heart in your ears.

ino’s whimpering, shaking beneath you and sobbing out, “wanna fill you up, c-can i?”

every one of your senses is hazy, and you manage to nod against him, pressing your lips to his ear. “y-yes, ‘course you can.”

with that, his cock spurts white inside you, hot and thick and deep — for a moment, you wonder how long it’ll take to drip out of you. you’ll be able to keep it inside till you get to the dealership, won’t you?

“you okay?” you ask, body shifting and tearing a choked whine from his throat. “takuma?”

he exhales sharply, taking a second to answer you as he recovers, chest heaving beneath you. “yeah, i’m okay. hey, let’s turn over?” you oblige, ass pressed against him and cock still buried deep.

“we’re supposed to get this car back to the dealership, we can’t just sit on the side of the road—”

“yes we can,” ino hushes you, trailing kisses along your jaw before moving to your neck. “let’s just wait for a while and cuddle. also, i’m kinda cold and you’re warm.”

“how could you possibly be cold after full on sex?”

“i have no idea, but it doesn’t matter, does it?”

“five minutes,” you say matter of factly, although you curl up against him comfortably. “then we have to go.”

“yeah, yeah,” ino huffs.

later, you’re charged a ton of money for bringing back the car a few hours late. ino blames it on you for falling asleep against him and you blame it on him for enticing you to fall asleep by cuddling.

[satrs]

WICKED GAMES. @Gojo.satoru

SYNOPSIS; Satoru Gojo is your nemesis - vise versa. Or so you thought.

FEATURING; Virgin!Gojo Satoru x fem!reader

WK; 4k.

TAGS; NSFW CONTENT! MDNI! college au. richhhh Gojo. enemies to lovers. insulting. gojo hurts readers feelings with insults, vise versa. clothed grinding. unprotected sex. virginity loss. prn with plot.

"And who exactly invited you here?"

It's loud, thick air from the crowded space not too far away from where you're trying to escape the loud music blasting in your ear drums, head throbbing in pain, only to increase due to the annoying and unexpected - obstacle on your way to the restroom.

Your brows crinkle in irritation at the young man's question, flashing him a look of disgust. "That's none of your business." Your eyes drill holes into his skull, clicking your tongue at his attitude. "Can you move out the fucking way?", you ask rather rhetorical, irritated, you try to stomp past him, only to be hindered by his large frame hovering above you, his intimidating aura drowning out the loud chatting and music in the background, heart thumping in your chest as you struggle to hold eye contact, eyes flickering from his to the wall right beside you, gritting your teeth in annoyance.

He looks you up and down, tongue pocking the inside of his cheek. "It's my business since you're in my house."

You scoff, a sly smirk creeping its way up your lips. "Your house? If I'm not mistaken, Suguru lives here. Rings a bell? Geto Suguru, the host of this party? Also, the one who invited me here?"

"Suguru, Satoru, same shit. What's his is mine. So, again, what in Christ's name are you doing in my house?"

Your anger only grows, rumbling up a storm inside your stomach. Who the hell does he think he is? 'What's his is mine'? Fucking bullshit. "Look, I know that you two are friends-"

"Best friends", he interrupts, a vein on his forehead almost popping out of rage. Your patience is hanging onto a thing fucking threat at this point, playing out multiple ways to beat this bastard's ass up in your mind.

"The best of friends", you mock him, eyes closing for a second to regain your composer. "Whatever, I don't give a shit. Suguru and I also happened to be friends, and he invited me here. Out of kindness, I came." You pause, scanning his posture for any slight sign of comfort to make your escape, the idea soon turning into a cloud of smoke at his focused expression, his whole attention focused solely on you. "I've tried to avoid you all night. But you're stuck to my ass like a tick."

You make sure to spit out the last word, making sure he heard it loud and clear.

"I didn't ask who invited you, I asked why, the fuck, you are here."

"Now, I swear to God, Gojo. You better know what's best for you and get. Out. Of my way."

Satoru Gojo.

You hate the taste his name left in your mouth, and you hate the sight of him. That's why you refused to attend to this shitty frat party so many times. But your friend, who also happens to be Gojo's childhood buddy, begged and pleaded, until you eventually caved in.

You know how much this party means to him. Tying new connections to various people around the area, show of status, maybe even get a taste of some hot thing. All of that high top stuff.

You're not into that kind of lifestyle, showing off money and throwing it around as if it grew on trees, especially as a college student. Most students who attend this shit-show treat their academic success was careless and straight up foolish - running around to be a part of the 'high society' on the campus, while their tuition fees light up into red numbers.

One of the many reasons you hate Satoru Gojo is exactly that. His reputation. He is, how other students would say, part of the 'high society' - got his tuition fees covered by the wealth of his parents, grades never good, but after some sweet-talk with his professor, he surprisingly passes all of his classes with flying colors. One way or the other, he gets what he wants. He always does.

He is the definition of 'money can buy anything'.

But it's not the money alone, it's his attitude of his that just has you ball your hands into a fist.

Not one day goes past without him rubbing his wealth under everyone's noses. It didn't matter who it was, he was going to show them that he was better than them, richer, stronger.

He is the strongest.

Even though he never offended you directly, his distant glares and arrogant looks were enough for you to develop the hatred you have towards him. He always looked down on everyone he talked to, if they manage to even get him to pay attention to them, that is.

You really didn't want to even see him at this party, not attempting to ruin your mood with someone like him. So, you had to avoid him at all cost. In the end you figured, it wouldn't hurt to attend a party again, enjoying the company of others more than usual in your full-scheduled student life, escaping the never ending cycle for even just a little bit of fun. Also, the chance of running into him in such a massive house was slim. Until now.

You wish you could just kill him right here, that's how deep your hatred is seated. His feelings are mutual.

It's not like he ever paid attention to your presence, hell, he didn't even know you existed until you were all up in his business, always having a remark ready when he said anything to anyone. Yeah, he can be a bit mean at times, but it's nothing harsh, just jokes. They all know, for sure.

At first, he thought you're cute, and you still are, being honest. Gorgeous even. Maybe even the prettiest girl he's ever seen. But only if you keep that damned mouth of yours shut.

He can't stand your constant sense of justice, bugging him with issues someone like him could never even bother himself with. Babbling nonsense of 'fairness' and 'inequality' when he just supports the economy. Some, with some he means, you, see his actions as cruel but, if you were in his position, wouldn't you do the same?

Why can't you just mind your business and stop bothering him with your bullshit? It's not like your endless talking would change anything.

You're a nobody.

"Hello? Is your ass that stuffed of money that you can't follow simple instructions anymore? Get out of my way!"

Who does he think he is?

You scream into his face, blood rushing up your face as your anger pours out of you, all you see is red. If he doesn't move out the way at this instant, you're going to-

Who do you think you are?

He exhales a deep breath, scanning the area around you two before he swiftly takes a hold of your arm. You spit out curses at him, roughly trying to free yourself from his grasp, only to be dragged along until he rushes you into an empty room down the hall.

"Let go-!" And he does, pushing you into the empty guest room, closing the door right behind him. You swallow at the tension, the music only faint to notice, turning the room almost dead silent.

You stand, your ground, furrowed eyebrows indicating your mood. "You-!"

Before you can even think of an insult, he interrupts you in an instant, causing your body to tense up at his unusual dark tone. It's almost scary how his expression changes into something unreadable. "Shut the fuck up", he breathed out, head falling back as his hands brushes across his face, a long sigh leaving his lips while looking at the ceiling.

"Can you? Just be quiet for one second." And you did, exhaustion washing over your body as you look around the room, turning on your heels to look at anything but him.

"It's always people like you", he begins, eyes trailing after your movements, "always those nobodies who got their nose all up in my business. You're the one who's a tick on my ass." He begins to follow your footsteps to the bathroom, halting at the door to lean against the door frame, looking down at your body seated on the closed toilette, head in hands. "You're jealous."

Jealous? Not only jealous - you're green of envy.

He was born with everything and anything you could ask for. He already got his future set, like food on a platter. You on the other hand have to work hard, to pay for college, rent, and other necessities. And he? He gets money shoved up his butt every other week, not lifting a finger. And worst of all, he's not even grateful for his privileged life. Perhaps, that's also a big reason you hate him.

"I'm obsessed? Now tell me who exactly dragged me into this room!", You snap your head up, teeth gritting together, tears threatening to trickle down your face.

"You cryin'?" You try to wipe the tear off your face unnoticed, but it's already too late. He nears you, leaning down and looking at you with that look again.

As if you're nobody.

"Don't change the topic", you sniffle between tears, turning your face away from him so you don't have to see him looking down at you. But you still feel his eyes on you, an unreadable expression on his face as he inspects your form, an odd feeling bubbling up in his stomach.

Guilt?

He feels bad for you, he feels bad for making you feel this way. An apology tickles the tip of his tongue, but he closed his mouth before he dared to shatter his own ego.

"Fuck." He lets it slip out in a whisper, trying to think of possibilities to clear the confusion. Truth was, he looked for you around the whole house with the intention of making things right with you. Because he actually doesn't hate you how you think he would.

Suguru, his childhood best friend, knows how bad Satoru is with words, and how little to no remorse he has while talking to people, especially to girls. He also knows something else about Satoru, something that nobody, maybe not even himself, is aware of. That's the whole reason why he even invited you here. For the both of you to talk things out.

He planned it all out, pleading and begging you to come, and also loosing his pride in the process, up to the empty room, knowing that only Satoru would know what part of the house would be abandoned during a party, up to talking him into finally talk to you - without any bickering or insulting. An honest talk, just the two of you, nothing else.

"Look", he feels his heart sink into his stomach as he notices your attention is on him. "I-" He stops at the sight of your teary face, every part of his body telling him to just apologize properly, and just leave it be, or kiss it better.

What is he thinking?

"I just want this shit to end. Stop bothering me. Stop pocking around my business. Then we'll be good." Fucking dumbass. He facepalms himself mentally, eyes widening in shock at the sound of your soft giggle.

"Didn't anyone teach you how to apologize?" Looking up at your face again, he can see a faint but visible smile on your face and, thank God, what a relief.

"You know I won't say that."

"Why?"

"Because there is no reason to."

His posture stiffens at the sound of you getting up from the toilet. "Alright then. There's nothing to 'be good' then," You walk past him, back into the room, "I'll leave."

"Wait."

You can hear him entering the room. You smirk to yourself before turning around, ready to see his ego shattering down, and-

"I don't hate you, Y/N."

What?

The smirk quickly washed off your face, confusion replacing it. Was this some sort of joke?

"I'll explain it to you, just-" he sighs, swallowing his pride before continuing, "stay. Please." You're taken aback by his sudden change, the soft and pleading look on his face. He never looked anywhere near unappealing to you, it was just his attitude. But now?

You don't know what's gotten into you, but you feel like staying, like something will happen. Suddenly you're not angry anymore, you're calm, collected, but most of all, curious.

He sighs in relief as you halt your movements, slowly expecting him to continue. His feet drag to the bed, awkwardly sitting at the edge of it as his hand motions you to sit beside him, eyes looking up at you expectantly.

You hesitate at first, you want to turn back and get out, but something just keeps your feet moving, your eyes never leaving his face.

And when you sit beside him, you come to realize how handsome he is up close, observing his bright ocean blue eyes, searching for something you can't explain in them.

You snap back to reality, eyes now looking down at your fingers tapping at your thigh awkwardly. "So?", you whisper into the thin air, for no reason at all. Slowly you look up at him face again, and instead of an answer, you found what you were looking for.

His lips smash onto yours as your eyes widen before you sigh into the kiss in relief, leaning your head into the hand he held up at your cheek. You push right into him, softly crawling onto his lap while your hands tangle into his hair as you feel him shiver underneath you at the feeling of your clothed heat covering his groin.

Breaking the kiss to catch your both's breaths, you look at each other in pure bliss. You lose yourself in his angelic eyes as his flicker from your eyes to your lips expectantly, hoping - no, begging for you to catch on.

"I like you," he curses under his breath once your cunt sits right on his half-hard length, breathing turning ragged, "I really like you."

You catch onto his intention and breath out s light laugh, placing a quick kiss to his lips, causing him to chase after your lips right after, and you bite back a laugh right after. "I figured." Your lips are back on his as you begin to grind your hips against his in a needy manner, a soft moan being swallowed by his lips as his hands firmly hold onto your rear, setting a steady rhythm.

With every move of your hips, the tent in his pants only grows, his hands turn rougher with each friction of your clother cunt against his hard length.

Fuck, he might burst into his pants right now. You look so angelic above him, breaking from the kiss to carefully tearing the shirt from him so you could admire his fine build before softly pushing him onto the sheets, his white hair spread across the silk as his chest heaves with every further inch your delicate fingers took towards his groin with the intention of freeing his aching cock from his painfully tight boxers.

And you do just that, eyes sparkling in anticipation at the sight of his gorgeous cock, pre leaking from the tip as he hisses at the hit of cold air he feels against his head.

"Hah- I-", his head pushes back into the sheets, eyes closing while he lets out a soft whine once your hand contracts around his dick, thumb teasing his slit.

"You what? Cat caught your tongue?", you tease, your other hand occupied with lazily pushing your panties to the side, lifting your hips up, ready to aline his head to your entrance, damp folds eager to feel him inside of you.

He lifts his head up, looking at your exposed cunny right before him, his hand flying up to your hips, squeezing them to get you to halt your actions. "I never did this", he breathes out, cheeks turning into a faint tint of red at your dumbfounded expression. Your hips come back down to rest on his lap, biting your lip, aroused of the idea that you're his first. "Are you serious?" And with his nod, you feel your cunt pulsating in excitement, neck craning down to capture his lips again.

You lift your hips to rest on his exposed cock, wet cunt slowly gliding along his length. Your swollen clit catches onto his end, the both of you moaning into the kiss.

His hips speedily buck up into yours, urging you to slide his plumb tip into your entrance. The firm grip his hands have on your waist guaranteed a leaving impression on your skin - but you don't care.

Not right now, not like this- when you have him of all people imaginable underneath you, his hot breath tickling your nose while his eyes lusted over you, curious of your next move.

You smirk down at him, a breathy laugh escaping you as your hand sneaks down to take hold of his pulsating length, aligning it to your entrance.

And with your gummy walls enveloping his tip in a tight grip, every past lingering grudge flows out of the window. He swallows, hard, head tipping back in pleasure while you inch your hips down further and further, biting your lip to contain your moans.

If there's heaven, this is it. Yes, he had his fair share of make out sessions, girls soaking his fingers and he was no stranger to blowjobs. But this? This feeling, your soft walls hugging his cock so perfectly, as if your pussy was made for him, waiting for him.

"Ohhhhh, f-fuck!-" A strangled whine escapes his lips once you bottom out, sweat forming at his forehead. It feels like you're suffocating him, his breath gets caught in his lungs, his eyes threatening to move to the very back of his skull.

With his face scrunching up in pleasure, one hand leaves the bruising grip on your waist as he tries his best to get up on his elbow, mouth hanging wide open.

"Are you alright?", you breathe out, breathing turning rapid. You can feel each vein of his dick pulsating inside your soaking cunt, your hand brushing across his defined abdomen.

"More than alright", he scoffed, his eyebrows furrowing, now fully propped up against the headboard. His absent hand finds its way to your ass, squeezing it, a desperate gaze inspecting every inch of your body. "Please, move."

And you comply, bracing yourself on his shoulders as you begin a steady pace, breasts bouncing up his face with each movement of your hips.

"Fuckkkkkk, yesyesyes!", his mouth captured your neglected nipple, his wet muscle swiping across the bud whilst his occupied hand harshly squeezes your rear, fat spilling between the gaps of his slender fingers as he roughly moves your hips against his, the newfound rhythm causing him to let out a sob.

Each rut of your hips only makes his love for you grow even stronger, now that you took the most precious thing he claimed to be his as your own, he's sure that this is right. If he had any doubts before this, then it's certain that they now disappeared into the thin air. There's nothing but desperation and desire for you clouding his mind - he needs you, he needs to feel the comfort of your velvet walls, your moans against his lips, your skin against his - you, you you.

Your clit continuously brushes against his pelvic bone. "Mhmmm, right there", you whine, hands desperately clawing at his shoulders with your eyes squeezed shut.

It's almost embarrassing how fast you're threatening to near your release, considering that he was the virgin. On top of that, the he in question being Gojo Satoru. You hated-

Your eyes shoot open, back coming in contact with the silk sheets before you feel his mouth on yours again, his tongue prodding at your lip. "You feel so fucking good, baby", he mumbled against your lips, his hips speed up while his hands roam your body in such a longing manner. "Don't want anything but this", he lifts your leg up his shoulder, straightening his back as he felt a tightness in his stomach. "Nothing 's better but this perfect cunt. Love it so much, fuck- love you, I love you baby."

Wait, why did you hate him again?

You moan at his words, the confusing mist clearing up with each mesmerizing thrust of his hips, your eyes full of admiration when you view him leaving open mouth kisses against your ankle, his eyes never daring to leave yours.

"'m gonna cum, toru- fuckfuckfuck, yes! Don't stop pleaseee-" And with that, you fall into the tantalizing sea of pleasure, sucking your stomach in while reaching your hand to his hip in an attempt to stop him, the pleasure too much for you to bear.

A low groan leaves him at the sound of the nickname you gave him, hips unintentionally speeding up, sweat rolling down his chest. He feels like he's gonna bust any second now, his tip nudging your gummy spot with each stroke, taking the shaky hand on his stomach in his to reach it up to his lips and plant a quick kiss on it.

"A-atta, girl. Fuck, you're so goddamn pretty. Can't last much longer, baby." His glistening eyes look between your bodies, the movement of his hips flattering as he nears his release.

"Shiiiiit, never felt so good in my entire life. Wanna stay inside of you forever. T-think I'm gonna cum."

The sight of your spasming cunt spurting against his lower abdomen was enough for him to burst right inside your welcoming hole, one last drive of his hips following to dwell a little longer in the pleasure before pulling out of your hole.

His body slumps onto of yours, nuzzling his head into your neck. You let out a breathy giggle, still out of breath, as your hand reaches up to stroke his hair affectionately.

Soon, the both of your breathings calm down, silence drowning the room, no one daring to continue where you left off.

"You sure this was your first time?", you joke, earning a laugh from the young man. He lifts his head, eyes locking with yours. "I'm a natural, you know."

You hide your laugh while turning to the side. His eyes roam your face with pure affection, love struck from your wholehearted laugh and suddenly, he regrets every past resentment he had against you.

" You're so damn pretty", he whispers, causing you to turn and look at him, his eyes wandering aver your features. "I'm serious", he continues, in answer to your skeptical stare.

It was weird, seeing his usual distasteful expression being replaced by such an adoring gaze, tempting you to look into his ocean kissed eyes for all eternity.

Every past resentment you had against him long forgotten, the future the only thing occupying your mind now. If he's really serious, could you both-

"Let me make it up to you."

You snap out of your thoughts, perplexed by his words. Before you can say anything, he continues.

" Take you out on a date. A proper date. Apologize for real." He takes a deep breath before opening his mouth again, nervous about what was about to come.

"I was serious about earlier, you know. I really do like you. I'm just-" he breathes out, trying to find the right words.

"An asshole?", you answer for him, earning a quick laugh in return. "Yeah. A big one at that." he raises from his position, looking down at you, almost pleading for your approval. "Please, y/n. I'll do anything for you to make it up. Give this - us a chance."

You look up at him, a small smile on your face. "Please," he whispered again once you sit up, carefully taking your hand in his, eyes pleading for a response.

Once your hand reaches up for his cheek, stroking it lovingly while you place a fond kiss against his lips, he got the answer he always wanted.

"Okay, let's try."

©︎𝙎𝘼𝙏𝙍𝙎 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

Do NOT plagiarize, copy, modify, republish, or translate my work in any way!

[clitorphosis]

PINK CELLPHONE

Incel Leon S. Kennedy x OnlyFans reader | 18+ MDNI. DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, INCEST, smut, female reader, reader is a little bit mean, creampie, unprotected sex, vaginal sex, teasing, Leon is submissive, nipple play, tits sucking.

notes: uhm, i didnt proofread this so... i want to remind you that english isnt my first language :3 also i imagined re2 og Leon, but whatever! also reblogs and any kind of feedback is really appreciated

tags: @withonly-sweetheart

There was something fundamentally wrong with Leon in female’s gaze.

Maybe he is unlucky or those girls are blind. Really hoping it is the latter, cause it is not flattering when guys with migrated hairline can get cute girls, while he can’t. And 4chan doesn’t help either, those advices aren’t useful when he can’t even talk to a real girl.

Yes, they are blind. He is going to set on that.

So after many years of solitude, his only company has become the blue gleam which most night was the only source of light in the room, while air was full with low noises coming from the old, poor laptop. Trying to survive after years of not being turned off correctly. Multiple tabs on his laptop’s screen, he doesn’t bother to close them anymore, hoarding them like some kind of treasure - Leon doesn’t give a shit anymore.

This century is perfect for a man like Leon, internet may be the second Library of Alexandria. A real paradise, so much colorful and vibrant sites with cute girls showing their bodies if he pays for that content.

Thank god Onlyfans exists. And he is a nice guy, supporting cute and sexy girls.

Paying for limited content can be considered as supporting women, right? Even if he was motivated due to his selfish reasons - to get attention and limited content. Something special for him. It was embarrassing how long he could browse a fair share of accounts and get or even interact with some girls without being rejected and they would not know him. There are a lot of them, all cute and nice, and they acted even better when he tipped them, so they would interact more with him, calling him a ‘pretty boy’. At least it made him feel special for a while. Still, not his fault that their, too perfect, videos or photos led him to lose his interest - their content felt lifeless, without passion or love put in it. Boring. It has become a routine already, finding an account - jerking off until he loses his interest and the cycle returns to browsing the site for someone new to obsess over.

Your account was like a treasure when he found it. Leon got attracted to it like a magnet, comparable to find a needle in the haystack. Sweet thing, really sweet, if he was ever to interact with you he wouldn’t be able to hide his grimace. But that was attracting, he doesn’t know how much money he has spent on your content. Your face was always hidden or cut out by the position of your camera, but there was no need to see your face when people paid to jerk off.

It was nice while it lasted.

Pink cellphone. The little pink cellphone he got his sister, after she nagged him about wanting it, that ended up left alone and not used. You have this pink cellphone, the furniture and a lot of things were identical to his little sister’s room; posters of her favorite bands or that specific blanket she had all her life, but this was quickly brushed off at first, almost all girls like cute stuff and this could be a coincidence. Also that not the first thing a guy notices when he is ready to jerk off. Leon isn’t sure why after seeing that pink cellphone it clicked so quickly, the guilt and shame fill him to the brim, coiling around his neck like a loose invisible tie knot.

This is wrong, wrong like touching his sister’s breast. Your breast. Instead, he was jerking off to your boobs for months. Imagining how they would fill his palms nicely.

The room is the same as before, but now it hits different to be here after discovering what you have been doing here all this time. It has the same smell as always, sweet and too much like you, tightening the invisible knot around his neck. He wants to throw himself out of the window, this is sick and he doesn’t understand why his legs brought him here after work, still wearing his uniform. There are plenty of almost empty and few full bottles of perfume he had bought you during one of shopping trips, while you were nagging him and begging for them. He eyes such little and useless items that in any other situations he wouldn’t notice, avoiding to look at you. His efforts were useless, he is a weak man after all and there is nothing to do other than to stare at your frame; sitting on the bed, confused at his behavior and expecting something - a reason to explain why he is acting like that, staring at you, almost fucking you with his eyes. He doesn’t need Freud to tell him that he wants to fuck his own sister. Were you preparing to do new content for your followers? The thought made his pants tighter, wanting to pull at the fabric to ease it but this would only bring your attention, wouldn’t it? Maybe he wants it.

“You look like shit.”

“Excuse me?” Did he hear that right?

“You look like shit, Leon” you repeat before raising an eyebrow “stop staring, you are going to dig holes into my face. What do you want?”

What a bitch, he would say, but,

“Uhm…” is the only sound he was able to let out, getting closer to your bed and sitting down on the edge. You scoot closer to him as you always do. A sweet habit he always liked, sometimes you even hug him. “Not lady-like, sweetheart. I wanted to talk”

You roll your eyes. “About what?”

“A friend of mine, he sent me a link of a girl, doing porn” his lies flow so fast and easily from his mouth, trying to shift this to someone non existent. “Her face isn’t visible but… her room and she had a pink cellphone, identical to yours… so I was wondering—“

“Maybe you are imagining things. Many girls have similar room to mine” you cut him, your hand lays on his shoulder. Perhaps this is hell, hell would feel like you mock him by pretending that account isn’t you, like those moans he heard weren’t yours while a guy or a dildo was pleasing you, making Leon envious and sour - why not him? The corners of your lips tug up, something good got into your head. “So you are paying for that stuff, huh? Jerking off to a girl similar to your little sister, you are so weird”

“Huh? No, I am not” Yes, he is, that’s actually his favorite hobby.

“Cut the crap, Leon. There is no friend. You probably imagined me, yeah?” He did, he won’t deny this - it would be a lie leading to another rejection, this time by his sister - and he is man, a desperate one. Also poker has never been his strong point nor he can lie well with his hard on. “Nasty, nasty boy”

His blue eyes linger on your mouth as you spoke, watching your tongue rolled sensually and slowly. Your tongue clicks, before applying more pressure on his shoulder with your hand, pushing him down. He is like a rag doll under your touch - his back hits the softness of your bed and now all he can see is your face looking down at Leon before finally sliding on his lap. Your legs straddle his hips, so nicely pressing down on his crotch and making this much harder than it should be. His cock is already painfully hard, straining against the warmth of your pussy which can be felt through thin fabric of your shorts. God bless them. He bucks up his hips, as his hands reach to hold your hips and press them harder against his aching cock while he tries to dryhump you needy - too bad that’s not on your list, slapping away his hands like it is a disturbance which makes him frown.

“Ah-ah, big bro. Don’t touch me” you purr as your head dips lower to press hot heated kiss on the skin of his neck, leaving soft bites and wet trail behind whilst your tongue traces around those bites, like a soothing touch before it starts going up down and up in torturous motions. Until you stop on his Adam’s apple to bite it softly to leave a red spot, your hands dive under his shirt, pushing it up to expose his stomach and making it easier to reach his chest - fingertips brush against his nipples, before rolling and pinch them to force more moans from him. A grown man getting already painfully hot and bothered over little touches and kisses there and then, this causes you to chuckle under your breath - don’t want to hear him complain how you hurt his ego. Man’s ego is more fragile than soap bubbles or the glass, one poke and he would not shut up and fuck your brain instead of your pussy. That won’t do. Your eyes dart up to look into his face - to see that sweet and needy expression, begging more than just teasing caresses from you. Your hips sit so well against his, sometimes creating some friction when one of you move and it feels like he is going to die if his dick won’t be buried in your pussy any time soon.

“I don’t like dirty hands on me” you add eventually with the same purring voice. What can be better than a man being submissive and shattering over nothing?

“Can you just… oh shit!” his sentence gets cut abruptly, when your lips reach to his earlobe, nibbling playfully and it would be really humiliating if he cum here cause of how his ears are sensible. Deep inhale, before speaking again, trying to keep himself at check and not to be so meek while you keep rolling his sensitive nipples in between your fingers. His next words are breathless and voice is shaky, almost at the edge to sound pathetically. Not really manly, but still your clit throbs, only now noticing how your panties are soaked now, uncomfortably clinging to your pussy lips. “…fuck me?”

You stop your assault over the skin of his neck to look down at him better, your hips press against his hard dick forcing a breathless whimper to escape. This little plea, he begs. Your clit throbs again, so uncomfortably wet, you want to dryhump him until he cum in his jeans like a virgin. Instead, he is one. If he was any other men you wouldn’t consider this good enough to comply but the sight in front of you is too much to ignore.

“Fuck.. you?” You echo his words, feigning a confusion, your eyes widen to emphasize the act. A cheap one, cause your hand already tugged down your shorts, leaving you in panties, he has seen them so many time on those videos and photos, his hips buck to press himself to your, still, clothed pussy. His attempt isn’t really successful, your hand unzips his jeans to free his cock. And finally to look at it. “you are so weird… I dunno, to ask that from me, don’t you have any shame in this body of yours, huh?”

“I don’t give a shit, just fuck me” he groans, looking down as you palm his cock, it twitches in your hand, already leaking with pre-cum and you can even notice a little stain on his boxers.

A light urge to roll your eyes arises deep down when you looked down, but it was quickly put down. Rather disappointing as a size, if someone would have asked you, but not everyone can have porno dick or customized one. You can still fuck with that. Leon swallows hard, taking a deep breath in again as he looked at you briefly - your tits are more interesting right now. He hopes you let him to suck on them. His fingers twitch, wanting to reach for your panties and tug to the side, to fuck you, but he is a gentleman. A nice guy.

Your hand pumps his dick, smearing his pre-cum along the flesh before tugging your panties to the side, your glistening pussy is fully exposed to his gaze and Leon almost choked on his saliva when you pressed your slick cunt on his cock. It is a torturous game, feeling you rub slowly along his aching length leading to drip more of pre-cum. You are so wet and warm, your slick coats his dick with every stroke of your pussy against it. This makes his eyes widen briefly at the sensation, he isn’t sure if he would be able to last long inside you. If it ever gets to that, of course.

“Please..?” Leon groans, bucking his hips to get more and press himself tighter for more friction than it is even possible right now. His sounds only encourage you to mess with him.

“What? I don’t understand” you taunt him with a light pout, another long and slow stroke, his cock’s tip was so close to slide into you. “Use your big-big words, Leon”

Your pussy kept grinding, enjoying the way his cock head bumps against your clit and making you wetter, forcing some noises from you too. Your fingers tug on his lower lip playfully - just to tease and annoy him. But he doesn’t let you withdraw your hand by grabbing hold of it. His lips catch your finger, sucking and nipping on it.

“Use me… please” like one of yours sex toys, Leon wanted to add, but, alas his dignity was still in tact, holding barely together by the tiniest thread. And as much as you want him to cum without even a penetration, to embarrass him, your own selfish urge to fuck him is much stronger.

“What a pretty face you have, right, big bro?” Also it is hard to ignore such sight in front of you, with blushed cheeks, his chest raises heavily as he let out breathless groans. “Pretty and pathetic, you would be a perfect sex doll”

Your wet slit kept rubbing, but this time savoring with the last stroke, before finally hovering over his cock - feeling his leaky tip nudging against your slick hole, begging to sink down, before his cock finally slides into you. He watched how your pussy swallowed his cock slowly inch by inch, before Leon thrusts up to meet your downward movement, forcing yours to slam against his, quickly burying himself as deep as he can right now. You moan at the rough motion, now ignoring how his hands reach to grip tightly your waist, not really caring anymore and now nothing stops him by touching you. Your slick inner walls wrap around his cock nicely, tightly clenching and he doesn’t think twice before bucking his hips again as yours started to roll against his - driving him deeper into your soaked hole. His dick hits the g-spot so sweetly, making you gasp and moan with him. His teeth catch the fabric of your shirt, trying to tug it down and expose your boobs to him - and you are nice enough to help him by pulling it aside, a clear permission to bury his face in between them. Sloppily kissing and biting on the flesh of your tits, while you are bouncing on his dick. His lips repeat your name as a prayer, catching a hard nipple into his mouth, his tongue brushes and rolls against the sensitive nub - sucking at it, nibbling messily and leaving wet marks before darting to give attention to another nipple, causing your pussy to flutter around his dick more, tightly engulfing deeper into the slick walls as the wet sounds mix with the skin slapping ones every time your hips meet after every deep and quick stroke that his cock drag against your walls.

“I-I want to fill you with my cum, please”his voice is breathless at the edge of whine even though he tries his best to not appear so desperate, but the plea behind his words is clear. His grip gets tighter, his fingers knead your ass as he grinds his dick against your cervix to intensify the pleasure for himself while his pelvis rubs against your clit as a nice touch. He really hopes you wouldn’t try to be a bitch and let him cum, if not then he is probably going to cry. “Please, please, let me cum… I need this, sis”

“You sound so fucking ridiculous” your voice is breathless too, but seeing him so needy and desperate for his release making this even better. Your hand tugs his hair, pulling away from your tits to look at his face even better - his lips are glistening with his own saliva and parted. Your clit throbs even more, aching for attention, velvety walls clench around him when you reach down to press your fingers on your clit, rubbing rough circles. “Come on, fill your little sister if you need this so much”

He whimpers disappointedly when he was pulled away from your sensitive and abused tits, but it was quickly changed into a moan when your pussy to wrap him tighter after adding your fingers in action. Your hips roll harder to meet his thrusts and wanting to see more of his stupid faces. Leon grinds up against sweet spot at every opportunity and every time it gets messier and messier as his balls tightens. His eyes slide shut briefly, now wetly meeting yours and looking more pathetic. What a freak, not like you are better than him.

Your orgasm approaches quickly as you kept rubbing your clit in rough circle motions, making your walls wrap harder around his cock. You arch as the flowing pleasure hits your body hard, having harder time to use your fingers to prolong your orgasm. Your pussy flutters at every erratic and messy thrust he kept making as he chase his own orgasm. It didn’t last long for him either, already a wonder he didn’t cum after sliding into you.

“Fuck- fuck” he slammed in to the hilt one final time, burying it deep and rubbing against your cervix before finally erupting deep inside you. Thick ropes of cum painted your insides in white, as your dripping cunt was milking his cock. Your body fell down against his chest, breathing heavily together and shivering.

“You stink like a wet dog, get out” you complain weakly, trying to push yourself away from him but it is effortless - he buries his head in the crook of your neck, again. His soft cock is still inside you, he won’t let you go. “and unsubscribe from my OnlyFans, creep”

“Later” Leon mumbles absently.

No, he is not even going to unsubscribe. In another life.

[rogueddie]

When Steve wakes up, he is very confused. His room looks very different and unfamiliar- but he knows it's his. It still has the plaid wallpaper his mom had picked out for him (he hadn't liked it, but there was a lot of lines and pretty colors).

The toy car his babysitter, Sarah, had gotten him for his fifth birthday isn't on his dresser anymore. He knows that she'd left it there for him last night, playfully insisting that he couldn't play with it until his actual birthday.

He'd been so excited to play with it. He wants to cry, and wail. He wants to run to his parents and scream until they give it back.

But they aren't home. That's why his babysitter had been over the previous night. They have a very important business trip that they aren't allowed to miss, not even for Steve's birthday.

The pictures in the hall look different too. Sarah had put up some cool pictures for him. She'd done the same for his fourth birthday. They had to take them down at the end of the day, but it had been nice to have family pictures up. Even if it was just for a day.

Sarah isn't downstairs.

He almost does scream this time. She'd promised that she'd stay the night, sleeping on the sofa, so he could have pancakes for breakfast. It's one of the many things that he can't, or isn't allowed, to make on his own.

His cake isn't in the fridge either. He even pulls a chair over so he can climb on it, to see if she'd hidden it on one of the higher shelves.

He sits on one of the dining chairs, watching the clock, and waiting.

After two hours pass, he gives up any hope he has.

Sarah, just like his parents, is probably too busy for him. He reasons that she probably just forgot to tell him. His mom had done that one time- it had stung, but he couldn't blame her. He forgot lots of stuff, even if it is important.

The only cereal in the pantry is some plain, corn brand that he doesn't recognise. It tastes just as bad as it looks, but there isn't a lot of food anymore.

At least, not a lot that he can make.

He has a second bowl, putting a few spoons of sugar in. It's not much better, but he doesn't feel so hungry anymore.

The TV looks different too. There's weird and new things playing. It's fun, interesting, and distracts him well enough that he's able to keep himself from worrying about how long he'll have to be alone again.

The next day goes the same.

The third day, he risks cooking. It ends up a little burnt, but it's better than cereal all the time.

The fourth day, he can't eat the food he tries to cook. It smells too nasty. He has to have cereal again. The sugar helps.

The fifth day, he doesn't risk cooking. His parents have never left him alone, without a babysitter, for more than a week, so he'll have a nice meal soon.

The sixth day, he checks their voicemail. There's a few odd messages from grown up sounding people, asking about how he's feeling, but he doesn't recognise any of their voices. He doesn't know what numbers he should try calling. He hopes they try calling again.

The seventh day, he sits at the bottom of the stairs. He stares at the front door, ready to jump up and give his mom and dad a warm welcome home.

The eighth day, he's starting to worry. Surely his parents will remember to call a different babysitter?

The ninth day, there's a key in the door. He almost misses it, sat in the kitchen, glaring at his cereal.

"Steve!" Someone calls. It sounds like one of the nice, unfamiliar grown ups who left a voicemail message. "Stevie! You here? How are- oh my god."

"Hi," Steve greets. He waves, tries giving his most polite smile. He almost forgets to keep his lips shut- his dad told him that his teeth don't look nice enough for a grin that big yet. "You're one of the nice people who left me a message, right?"

She stares at him for a long moment, mouth hanging open. "Steve?"

"That's me! What's your name?"

"Robin."

He sticks a hand out to her. "I's nice to meet you Miss Robin!"

"Yeah," she replies, voice high and thin. Her hand is trembling when she gently shakes his hand. "I'm... gonna need to use your phone. Real quick, ok?"

"Um... ok. But you can't make long distance calls, mommy will be very mad at me." He bites his thumb nail, following her into the hall. "Are you a babysitter? Is Sarah sick?"

"Sarah?" Robin echoes, questioningly. She's only half paying attention though, pushing in a phone number.

"My babysitter. She was supposed to be here for my birthday."

"It's your birthday?" She chokes out, spinning around so fast she stumbles. She looks heartbroken.

"Not anymore! It's ok, you don't need to be sad. She gave me my present early too, so it was good."

"Wait. How long have you been... what have you been eating?"

"Um. Cereal, mostly. All the food is different. It's weird."

"That's not- oh, hi," she turns away slightly, talking to whoever is on the phone. "Yeah, I'm at Steve's right now. Gather, like, everyone. We have a major emergency."

"No!" Steve quickly says. He tugs at the bottom of her top. "Not an emergency! You can't say that, you'll get me in trouble!"

"You don't understand, this is-"

"No, please," he pleads. He can only hope he won't get in trouble for talking back to her. "I'm sorry."

"Ok, ok, alright," she agrees. She pauses for a second, listening. "No, that was Steve. Yeah, exactly, that's why-"

"Tell them it isn't an emergency. Please. If dad hears, I'll be in big trouble."

"Ok, big guy. It's not an emergency. Just... yeah, do that. Yeah. Alright. No, I'll be fine. I can deal with it. Ok, see you soon."

She hangs up with a sigh, turning to look at him. She still looks sad.

"Are you ok, Miss Robin?"

Her laugh sounds strained, but she laughs. "I'm alright. How are you?"

"I'm ok. Do you know when mommy and daddy will be back?"

"I don't. I'm sorry, Stevie."

"It's ok. It's only, like... I can't really, uh, cook."

"I can make you something. What's your fave? It was your birthday, you said? Let's get you something special! How old are you?"

He stumbles a little, trying to keep up with her fast talking as well as he long strides. "I'm five. Sarah was going to make me pancakes."

"We can do pancakes." She searches the cupboards and fridge, frowning. "Where is anything?"

"I dunno. I looked but everything is all gone or weird."

"Well... we'll just have to have pancakes later. Special pancakes, for the special birthday boy."

"I guess."

She steps close, putting her hands on her hips as she looks him over. "Are you sure you're five? Did you hit your growth spurt early? You're getting real big."

"I dunno. Mommy says I'm gonna be tall and be a real ladies man, or something."

"Do you even know what that means?"

"Not really. Mommy thinks it's cool though."

"Hm. Are you too big to pick up?"

"Oh, you're not supposed to. Daddy says I'm a big boy now. Big boys don't get picked up."

"Your dad's an asshole."

Steve giggles, quickly covering his mouth with both hands. "You're not supposed to say that! It's a naughty word!"

"Supposed to do this, supposed to do that," she tutts. She leans down, scooping him up into her arms, resting him on her hip. "Your five, stop being so boring!"

Her hand feels so big on his back, like there's no way he could fall with her holding him. She doesn't even seem to mind his hand automatically grabbing the collar of her shirt.

"Daddy doesn't like it when people pick me up."

"What do you like? Hm? Do you want me to put you down?"

"... No."

"Then I'm not putting you down. Daddy isn't here to tell us off, is he? And what he doesn't know, can't hurt him."

She bounces him a few times, making him giggle. Judging by her satisfied grin, that was her aim.

It confuses him, a little. Mostly because she keeps doing that- little things, little comments, trying to make him laugh. Trying to make him smile. Even just listening to him talk about things. Little things. Silly things. Like she isn't annoyed when he goes on, and on, and on.

By the time another person comes in, he's decided that she's the best person in the whole wide world. If she puts him down or tries to leave, he's going to throw a tantrum.

He knows it's bad, but he doesn't want her to leave too. She's cool.

"Oh, God. Robin, please tell me that the baby isn't Steve."

"He's five," Robin corrects. "And yes, it's Steve. I checked, it's him."

"What the hell happened to him?"

"I don't know, I called you!"

"Is something wrong with me?" Steve asks, voice quiet and timid.

"No!" Robin quickly tries to say, at the same time the man says, "yes, obviously."

"Dustin!" Robin scolds.

"What? Lying to him won't help!"

"Neither will being a dick about it!" She tutts at him, adjusting Steve in her arms when she looks to him. "It's nothing, like, bad. It's just kinda weird. See, when we saw you, a week ago... you were a little bit older than me. And now you're five."

Steve stares at her for a moment. She looks too serious, too honest.

"Weird," he says.

"Exactly," she agrees. "From what you've said, though, it's not that bad. You're still you, and you're healthy. You're just... not so big."

"Maybe El can fix him," Dustin mutters, squinting at Steve. He leans close. "When did this happen?"

"He's been like this for a week," Robin tells him. Her voice is quiet, almost scared- it doesn't help that Dustin looks horrified too. "At least."

"Who's been taking care of him?"

"No one."

"What the hell," Dustin turns his frown on Steve. "Why didn't you call anyone?"

"Not supposed to unless it's a real emergency," Steve says. "Mommy says she has a repo... rep... rep-yuh-tay-shun. It's a big thing."

Dustin looks heartbroken, turning to Robin, who shrugs back at him. He groans after a pause, frowning at Robin. "Shit. You can't drive."

"Oh, shit."

"I'll call Eddie," Dustin sighs, already heading to the hall.

"Who's Eddie?" Steve asks.

"Eddie's a friend. He looks a little scary, but don't worry. He's a big softie, an absolute teddy bear." She leans close, whispering loudly with a grin. "Don't tell him I told you, though. He likes to pretend that he's all tough and mean."

"And he's... not mean?"

"Not a cruel bone in his body."

"Ok," he bites at his thumb, frowning when Robin gently pulls his hand out his mouth. "You won't leave though, right?"

"I'm not going anywhere."

"You gotta promise, though! Pinky Promise!" He lifts a hand, sticking his pinky up- Robin almost immediately wraps her own around his.

"I promise I won't leave you. Who knows what could happen if I leave you alone with the gremlins." She pretends to shudder. "Oh, the horrors.."

"He'll be here in five minutes," Dustin announces.

"That's... quick."

"Yeah. I barely got out 'Steve is in trouble' before he hung up."

"Maybe don't start like that next time," Robin rolls her eyes. She adjusts Steve again, trying to sit him higher on her hip. "He's probably breaking at least, like, five speeding laws or something."

"I don't think that's how it works."

"Whatever." She huffs. "Jesus. Steve, bud, I might need to put you down for a sec."

"Oh... um... do you have to?"

"My arms are really starting to hurt, bud," she says. She looks as upset at the idea as he feels. "Maybe we could sit down together. Would that be a good compromise?"

"Yeah!" He grins. "What's a comp- compa-"

"Com-pruh-mise." She says it slowly, careful to sound it out, as she sits down on the sofa. She pulls Steve around so he's sat on her knees, facing her. She keeps one hand on his back, supporting him.

"Com-pa-mise," Steve repeats.

"Oh, that was great!" Robin encourages, laughing at how big and excited Steves responding grin is. "Well, compromise is when..."

Robin is so patient with him, taking her time with him, making sure he understands what she's saying- before easily jumping onto whatever tangent he brings up.

It feels like only a few minutes have passed by the time the doorbell rings. Dustin stands to answer- Steve had completely forgotten he was there the whole time, too caught up in his conversation with Robin.

He doesn't come back for a moment. Steve can hear muttering, straining to hear what they're saying, but the living room doors shut.

A man follows him inside. He's tall, with long hair and dark clothes. He looks different to anyone Steve has ever seen before. He looks scary.

"Oh god," he mumbles, frowning at Steve. "You're not joking."

Steve tugs at Robins sleeve, leaning close to her, whispering, "who's that?"

"Oh, right!" Robin groans when she stands, lifting Steve with her. "Steve, this is Eddie. Eddie, this is Steve."

"This is Steve," Eddie repeats. "Jesus Christ."

"Why do you look so scary?" Steve blurts out. He slaps a hand over his mouth, horrified.

But Eddie just laughs. "Damn, Stevie, tell me what you really think."

"You do!" Steve snaps, face warming. "All the black and chains and stuff."

"Robin is wearing 'black and chains and stuff'."

"Yeah, but Robins cool."

"You wound me," Eddie gasps, slapping a hand to his chest. "I'm totally cooler than Robin."

"Nope," Robin quickly cuts in. "Steve said I'm cool, not you. It's been said, declared- no, decreed! Facts are facts, Eds, suck on it!"

"Ew," Steve and Eddie say in sync, grimacing.

"Alright," Dustin interrupts, hands on his hips. "You're introduced, now can we go? Now?"

Part two

[exerotica]

The Ice Cream Man

Explicit 18+, Instant Weight gain, Force Feeding, M/M, Sexual Themes

Flipping through the channels Jake passed by the news where he noticed the heat index was 105 right now. Even inside he was feeling it, his AC was barely able to keep his ancient house at 85. Thankfully his parents were gone for the day and he could lay on the couch shirtless without comments about the small flab he’s put on since starting college. He was thinking about cracking open the fridge and freezer to cool himself down when the faint sound of an ice cream truck pricked his ear, “Perfect,” he sighed.

Jake threw on his favorite shirt and hat and stepped out the front door, the wet boiling outside air hitting him like a wave of lava. Squinting, trying to adjust his eyes, he looked down the street and met the met the bright colorful box that called to him like a siren. He met the truck where it stopped, “Hey Connor, thank god you’re here!”

“Hey Jake, figured I’d see you today. How’s it been going?”

“The heat index is 105, I’m not NOT getting ice cream man. Summer has been flying by until this heat wave hit, I can barely move in my own house without breaking a sweat”

“Not too sure that’s all to do with the heat Jake. Freshman 15 is a real thing, and I distinctly remember that shirt not fitting so tight last semester”

“You sound just like my parents, I don’t mind a few pounds, especially in the off-season. I just need something to cool off, I’ve been dying today”

“The usual?” Conner had an ice cream cone ready in a few seconds. They caught up and talked about plans for next semester while some of Jake’s neighbors ordered from the Truck. Connor had clearly been consistent with the gym even during the summer, he was much buffer than Jake remembered from last semester. Jake finished his cone by the time his neighbors dispersed and still wasn’t quite satisfied. “Hey how about another cone?”

“Another one? People are gonna be calling you ‘big guy’ next semester if you keep this big back activity up man haha”

“Listen, you parked almost a block away from my house, this one is so I don’t die of heat stroke on the way back.”

Connor smiled, rolled his eyes, and had another cone in Jake’s hand within a few seconds. Jake enjoyed his second cone but lingered and kept chatting with Connor a bit more. He caught sight of Jake’s underbelly as the wind flipped it up against the soft outline of his belly button pressing against his shirt. He couldn’t help himself, “You know Jake, if you’re really looking to cool off, this was my last stop so I have time to kill, hop in.”

Jake raised an eyebrow and smirked, “If you’re planning on kidnapping me, I’m going to community college, so it should be pretty clear my parents can’t afford a ransom.”

“Get in smart-ass,” Connor closed the side door and let Jake in, watching his pudge ripple as he hopped up the steps into the back of the ice cream truck.

“Oh fuck, it’s so cold, can I live here?” Jake closed his eyes and let the cold wash over him for a bit. Connor showed Jake the freezers, topping buckets, and ice cream machine.

Jake tapped the machine as it emitted a slow consistent hum, “Damn this thing looks old”

“Yeah, most of my work honestly is running and keeping this thing clean. The owner like to take really good care of it, ‘none of that new fake shit’ he says.”

“Can’t say he’s wrong, I love the stuff”

“Clearly. Course, on a day like today, you’re the only fatass who can finish the ice cream before it melts.” Connor chuckled to himself as he tidied up around the truck.

“Who needs to worry about melting when you can get it straight from the source?” Jake quickly kneeled and twisted his body so that his head faced the roof of the truck and locked his mouth to the spout of the machine. Turning the knob and letting the soft freezing cream slither into his mouth and melt down his throat, cooling his entire body.

“Jake! What the fuck man, you’re lucky I have to clean that anyways. I didn’t realize you were THIS much of a pig.” Connor paused as he saw Jake’s body pressed out from kneeling backwards and his shirt riding up past his belly button, exposing his soft pudgy belly. Connor couldn’t help but get hard watching Jake chug the ice cream, his body plump frame getting stretched and rounder.

Jake gave a few final strained gulps and sat upright on both knees, holding onto his gut and wincing. “burrraahhhhh… fuck that was heavier than I thought it was going to be.” Jake’s shirt was practically skintight, his love handles and underbelly finally free from his shirt, acting more as a crop top with two soft breasts still pressed away inside.

He looked over at Connor and from his kneeled position had a direct view of his hard on pressing against his skinny beige slacks. “Looks like I wasn’t the only one who enjoyed that, Connor.” As he nodded to Connor’s waist.

Connor walked over to jake and stood in front of him, still kneeling Jake was inches from Connor’s cock and could clearly see just how big the outline was. “I just knew your fat ass couldn’t resist” Connor said, looking down at Jake’s soft features staring back up at him.

“I could use some help for round two..” Jake had barely finished speaking before Connor knelt next to him supporting his head as he pressed his lips to the machine. Connor flipped the level and cream started flowing again down Jake’s throat. He felt the cold liquid strain in his gut as it kept pumping into him. Connor pressed his buff frame against Jake’s as he rubbed and groped his fat, jiggling his love handles and reaching up his tight shirt to access his man tits.

“That’s it fatass, keep going. Look at how big that fucking gut is getting.” As Connor encouraged Jake, he noticed Jake’s body getting bigger. Not just his belly, but his tits, love handles, ass, everything was growing right in Connor’s hands giving him more and more to squeeze and jiggle. Connor could take it, his cock practically tore its own way out of his pants and started grinding against Jake’s fat blubber.

Jake’s moans muffled by the machine had grown louder and deeper. He felt his body growing and his clothes straining against his new fat which was starting to spill out everywhere. His mind was fluttering barely thinking anything more than just how good it all felt. Connor’s fat cock pressing into his doughy frame with a constant stream of fat flowing straight onto his frame. His belly pressed out from his once skinny frame, freely hanging over his pants and jiggling like jello with every touch of Connor’s hand. He could barely control himself when Connor had freed his cock and started jerking him off, so much sexual input coming from his body was sending his brain into a frenzy.

Ice cream pumping into his fat greedy gut and Connor fucking one of his newly formed fat rolls, Jake struggled to breath trying to moan and tensing up he shot rope after rope of hot cum onto Connor and the floor of the truck. Connor joined in and as he repeatedly forced his cock against Jake’s blubber, causes ripples of Jake’s fat to run across his body. He grit his teeth and groaned as he pumped cum all over Jake’s new fat for what seemed like an eternity.

Jake’s naked obese body collapsed onto the floor of the truck the moment Connor turned the ice cream machine off. Connor got on top of him and pressed his hard muscley frame into Jake as he held his head and kissed his chubby face. Jake’s brain still in its haze, “I can’t believe I’m this fucking big.” Connor slapped his gut causing Jake’s belly to ripple and him to moan, “That sweet tooth of yours just finally caught up to you big guy.”