#u can only control it so much. u have to let go of that urge for perfection and take what u get

[pepperpixel]

Both love and hate the absolute DELUGE of ink a fresh sharpie unleashes onto the paper the instant it makes contact…. I have complicated feelings towards the deluge lmao

[ddejavvu]

Hiiiiii can u write a blurb about reader having her first baby and she’s struggling letting the baby cry it out to fall asleep.

But Aaron having already gone through this with jack is comforting her and promising the baby knows she loves them but they have to sleep.

i felt this!! i'm not a mother myself (yet) but i don't think i'd be able to stop myself. it was even hard for me to let the baby i was nannying for cry himself out, and he wasn't even mine. i'd be the weak one getting up six times a night cause my baby's crying </33

--

The heartbreaking sounds of your daughter's wailing cries sends tears of your own pricking at your eyes no matter how hard you try squeezing them shut and sleeping through it. You're restless- like her, almost completely controlled by your urge to go into her nursery and comfort her. She's been crying for an hour, and the only reason you've been able to let her 'cry it out' is because Jack is sleeping over at a friend's house.

Just when you think of rolling over to soothe her, Aaron's large hand grasps at your smaller one, and you feel yourself pulled into his chest.

"Don't go now. You need sleep. And she'll be safe. She'll learn."

"Aaron, she's sobbing. She doesn't like learning-" You swallow a sob, "What if- what if she thinks we don't love her? She must be so scared, I- I have to go help her."

"She needs to learn to sleep on her own," Aaron hums, remembering how much it had hurt to sleep train Jack, "Trust me, sweetheart. She knows you love her. And even if its hard to let her cry, we need to let her learn this. We can't be getting up three times a night for the next eighteen years. Once she learns how to sleep on her own, we'll be able to get a good night ourselves. And we need sleep to be good parents."

He's speaking logically, of course. You and Aaron have both been increasingly irritable since the birth of your daughter, as happy as you've both been to welcome her into the world. You've been up and down at least three times a night with your daughter and her irregular sleeping habits, and you're both showing signs of extreme sleep deprivation. Aaron had snapped at Jack only two days prior, which is what had finally pushed him over the edge into sleep training, and you'd felt on the verge of snapping at Aaron yourself. He's right. You need your sleep, and your daughter needs to learn these things.

"Come here." Aaron hums, pulling you tighter into his embrace and flattening his palm over your ear. He disguises it by stroking his thumb over your cheekbone, but you know he's muffling the sounds of your daughter's cries.

"It's okay." He promises, "She'll be okay," And you nestle into the warmth of his palm, trusting him even though you know you're still going to have a sleepless night.

[janitorhutcherson]

olderbfyandere!mike schmidt

surprise, bitches!!! im giving yall a lil taste of some more writing. im not really on hiatus (obvi, i post every 5 minutes) but i've been sooooo busy that i haven't been able to post half as much. with that being said, here are some more in depth headcanons ab yandere!mike. :p could not have done this without @futturmand literally helping me (coming up w/) most of these. thank u bae.

warnings: drugging, violence, sex, daddy kink, abusive tendencies

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olderbfyandere!mike schmidt was kinda an asshole. to his coworkers, random customers at the mall, anybody who came too close to you, and yes, even sometimes to you. he was the kind of guy who had a semi-permanent grimace on his face. the corners of his mouth would turn into smiles typically only when he was with abby or you two were alone and he could let his guard down. of course, even then, the moment you caught an attitude, that grimace would appear right back on his face. his demeanor was typically gruff. he was the kind of guy most people didn't want to mess with. this meant any male coworkers around you would be tested their fate to even glance at you the wrong way and god forbid mike saw one of them brush something off of your shoulder. that would truly be the end of them.

olderbfyandere!mike schmidt is very obsessive over safety. after losing garrett, he has this urge to do nothing but to protect. this means that mike is the type of guy to want your location at all times. not only that, but he wants to know what you're doing, who you're with, and what time you'll be home. he expects a text when you leave, a text when you get there, an hourly check-in, then a text on your way home. it brings him a sense of peace, knowing where you are. he watches life360 obsessively when you're not in his sight, watching your little bubble move through wherever you may be. he's constantly checking the speed of the car you're in, occasionally stalking your friend's instagram stories to see where you are. he's overprotective to the extent that it can be overbearing, but at the end of the day it's endearing knowing he cares that much.

olderbfyandere!mike schmidt uses the fact that you're younger than him to manipulate you. he's less about violence or anything physical and instead uses his words. he will constantly remind you how helpless you are without him, how he has so much more life experience than you. he'll point out randomly when you mention not knowing how to do something, saying something like, "see, babydoll, where would you be without me? that's right, nowhere. you need me to take care of you." he's also the kind of guy to eventually make you financially dependent on him if he could ever afford it. he would never put you in that spot until he was comfortable enough to do so, though, meaning it might be a loooong time before that ever happened.

olderbfyandere!mike schmidt treats you less like a partner and more like a little sibling, kinda like he treats abby. as strange as it is, he also feels a paternal instinct to protect you. it comes from his deep-rooted feelings of abandonment. he lost garrett, his mom, his dad, and sometimes he feels like abby hates him. he loves that you listen to him, that he can command you to do something and you'd be so good for him. he absolutely adores being able to control different aspects of your life, making you completely reliant on him. it makes him feel special and needed, which he hasn't felt in a very long time. he loves nothing more than when he gets to scold you almost like a parent, your eyes falling to the ground, that adorable wounded puppy look he loves so much taking over your face.

olderbfyandere!mike schmidt is incredibly clingy and touch starved. he wants to have a hand on you 24/7. forget having personal space, because you are not getting it with him. he'd follow you around, watching you everywhere you'd go. his hands would grip onto your hips so tightly sometimes it'd feel like they were glued to them. he'd always have his arms around you, kissing at your neck, nipping in a way you felt shouldn't be shown in public. mike didn't care, he wanted everyone to know you belonged to him in every single way. he controlled you, and if he wanted to embarrass you and turn your face red by leaving purple marks on your neck in the middle of a shopping plaza, then so be it. you would take it or be punished.

olderbfyandere!mike schmidt who of course uses his sleeping pills on you when you're being a little brat. he isn't violent with you for the most part except for the rare occasion when he will hold you down onto the bed until you'll listen, but otherwise he opts for something simpler. when you're being a little too frustrating for him, going against his every command or you're not feeling like being held, mike will simply crush up his sleeping pills, slip them into your water. he's careful with you once you doze off, never abusing you in any way. all he will do is tuck you into your shared bed and hold your body in his arms, whispering sweet nothings as you're off in your own sweetly drugged up world.

olderbfyandere!mike schmidt would most definitely have a thing for being called daddy. sorry guys, it had to be said. hot take, i guess. considering he did want to protect you so thoroughly, he loved when you'd call him daddy. it made him feel like your protector, like you knew he was the one that did everything for you. it was so crazy how such a simple word could change his whole day. he loved hearing it fall out of your lips as he'd brush through your hair or wash your body off in the shower. "thank you, daddy," you'd hum and he'd grin ear to ear. "you're welcome, babydoll," he'd always say, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

[rikupid]

[09:41] 💭 riding haechan (with some edging)

warnings: haechan x afab!reader, riding, unprotected sex, edging, breeding, light overstimulation, use of pet names (baby), MDNI

a/n: breaking my silence with a haechan hard hour.. i have no idea what inspired this but i hope u enjoy this.. it’s literally just filth

haechan can’t help the whimpers that fall from his mouth—not when you’re riding him so well and squeezing his cock with every slow, tortuous drag of your hips.

you’ve been at it for what feels like hours now, teasing your boyfriend until you’re sure he’s about to lose his mind. he’s close, has been since you straddled his hips and sank your tight heat down around his aching cock, and haechan’s thoughts are jumbled from how long he’s been teetering on the edge.

all he can think about is you on top of him, whispering dirty praises in his ear, all while dragging your pussy up and down his length. he doesn’t know what he did to deserve someone as beautiful as you on top of him. he can’t look away from you, eyes roaming every inch of your body as you bounce on his cock.

he thinks that if anyone were to be edging him to the brink of insanity, at least it’s you.

haechan knows you’re being mean without reason, pushing him around a little, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like it. he likes when you get him so close to the edge, his cock twitching and stomach tightening as he gets closer and closer, only to tear that release away from him completely.

as much as he whines and tries to protest, he loves every second of it. he’d never admit it to your face.

he places his hands on your hips, trying to guide you to a pace that’s faster and less torturous for his sensitive cock. he thinks that if he doesn’t get to cum inside you within the next few minutes, he might actually start crying. the tears that start to form in his eye are a dead giveaway.

you follow his lead, deciding to spare him just a little, and pick up the pace. he feels so good inside you, cock deep and hitting all the right spots. “good, s’good, baby,” you moan out, hands scrambling to find purchase on his chest.

you ignore the burn in your thighs from how long you’ve been riding him. you’re too close to stop now, and haechan’s nearly right where you want him.

“s-shit,” haechan whimpers, head falling back against the pillows. his hands squeeze your hips tightly, groping at the skin as he tries to fight off the urge to cum. the feeling of your tight pussy around him is becoming too much, and haechan seriously thinks he can’t last any longer. you’re sucking him in, working your hips up and down his cock as if you’re begging him to let go—begging him to stuff you full of his cum.

but he can’t, not when he knows that you’re going to stop. this is the game that you’re playing and without fail, haechan seems to lose every time. you get him so close to the edge, dangerously so, then deny him before he can even think about letting go.

his whines are loud, eyes brimming with tears as he tries so hard not to cum.

“please,” haechan tries, eyes squeezing shut. “m’gonna cum, please,” he begs, not sure if he’s asking for permission to cum or for you to stop before he loses control and spills inside your warm cunt.

you smile, stilling your hips to give him a break. you’re mean, but you’d never ignore your pretty boy when he cries so beautifully from underneath you.

“yeah?” you ask, coming up to run a gentle hand through his hair that’s sweaty and wet, sticking to his forehead from how hot the room is. “you think you deserve to cum now?”

haechan opens his eyes to look at you, nodding his head in desperation. his cock throbs inside you. “let me, please. wanna cum inside you so bad,” he begs again, hands coming up to roam along your waist and the curve of your back.

you let out a pleasant sigh at the touch, hips starting to grind in slow, gentle circles on his cock. you nod your head, finally deciding to play nice. “fuck me, hyuckie. fuck me ‘n i’ll let you cum, promise,” you whisper, leaning down to mouth at his neck.

haechan moans at the feeling, hips starting to buck. he’s been waiting so long for this—waiting for you to give him the permission to cum and fuck you like he needs. he wraps his arms around you and plants his feet on the bed, thrusting his hips up into your cunt.

he’s too desperate to care about rhythm, brain muddled with nothing but the thought to fuck, claim, and have you full of his cum. you’re squeezing so tightly around him, pussy wet and squelching with every thrust of his cock.

“hyuck!” you cry out, suddenly overwhelmed with how fast and deep he’s fucking into you. it’s so good and so much at the same time, sending you hurdling over the edge without warning.

“m’so close,” haechan groans into the air, hips still pounding into you as he chases his release. “gonna fuck you full, b-baby. gonna stuff you with my cum, c’mon, let me please,” he babbles without end, “wanna make you mine.”

“cum, hyuck—fuck,” you whine from the oversensitivity, hole fluttering around his cock as he fucks you past your orgasm. it’s overwhelming, but you need him to cum. “cum in me, baby,” you plead, words breaking off with a moan.

it takes one, two, three more thrusts before haechan’s spilling into you with a loud moan, cock twitching as his cum paints your walls. tears are rolling down his face as he finally gets to let go, arms pulling you down closer to his body. your pussy clenches hard around him at the warm feeling of his cum inside you.

you smash your lips against his, kissing him with need. he moans into the kiss before breaking away to pant against your mouth, the both of you exhausted from whatever just went down.

“you drive me crazy, you know that?” haechan asks between pants, eyes finding yours. there’s a fondness in his eyes that makes your heart swell.

you smile, placing a light and chaste kiss on his lips. “i know.”

a/n: i don’t know what came over me but i need haechan bad guys pleasepleaseplease someone listen to me PLEASSEEEE!!! also let’s talk abt how this was supposed to be my birthday hard hour present…. mind u my birthday was last friday….. anyways everyone say happy late birthday winnie

[bunicate]

Alhaitham making his little sister ride her stuffed toy for him! grinding her pussy on one of her favourites as she whines about how it’s gonna ruin her favourite stuffie!

⋆⁺₊❅⋆ 𐙚 ₊˚ warnings ꒱ྀི incest. infantilization. handjob. brief blowjob. pillow humping ﾉ 18+

“this is so unfair .”

you’d cross your arms if they weren’t currently occupied. reluctantly, one hand knits into the bedsheets to keep yourself in place. the other commits to slow sensual strokes of his cock, timed with the messy ruts of your pussy, defacing the once pale pink bunny.

the innocent stuffed animal with beady eyes, now the color of mulberry from your arousal, was ruined. if you didn’t know your big brother so well, you’d easily miss the subtle flicker of mirth in his blue-green eyes.

“how is it unfair? I'm playing with you just as you asked.”

you narrow your eyes at him, but its merely an undignified expression when the stuffed bunny's hard nose pokes your clit.

“t-this is not — hmmph— what I meant.”

his eyes lower and the side of his lip upturns. it’s not audible, but he’s laughing at you. you’re certain of it, and his cock only hardens in your grasp.

“y’got me ruining mr.cuddles. . .” you grumble.

“I can buy you another.”

a curse dies on the tip of your tongue just as frustration settles from his retort. the last thing you want is to add to your torment. as promising as it could be, al haitham had an immeasurable amount of self-control.

he’d wring your little cunt dry, and you don’t think you could handle much more of his teasing, but god, the poor creature was soiled.

you know how much embarrassing you arouses him and you sure don’t miss the pre-cum that deliciously clumps at the tip of his member. you know it’s at your expense because he throbs within your palm.

his fingers, veiny and all encompassing, cup the back of your head, slightly tugging at the roots of your hair.

it doesn’t hurt, but there’s enough pressure to signal his intolerance of your potential defiance.

“enlighten me. tell me what you meant.”

your head lolls back, staring at the scribe with tears blurring your vision. you thumb his tip and whine when you feel a dollop of his warm seed land on your thigh.

“when you told me you wanted to play, let me guess . . . did you mean on . . . my cock ?” 

theres a swirl of something you can only describe as unadulterated desperation at his show of mockery. there’s a sardonic glint as he soaks in how pretty you look jerking him off.

you nod stiffly. “u-uh huh.”

but he only feigns pity.

“that’s too bad, isn’t it ?” he reaches down to grip your backside. he lifts you slightly and sees crystal strings of wetness connecting from your cunt to poor mr.cuddles.

“look at that mess,” the scribe whispers, and that only fuels your need to bury yourself under your sheets.

“this isn’t what you wanted and yet, you’re dripping . . .” he shakes his in farce disappointment, “but nevertheless, let’s problem solve.”

he lets go of you to stop your hand from stroking his leaking member.

he firmly grabs himself, pumping his swollen cock slowly — roughly, until a pretty coat of pre-cum envelops his tip.

he points his throbbing appendage towards your mouth, pressing it towards your quivering lips. he wipes his head messily around the surface until trails of slick begins to glisten.

you physically resist the urge to suck and swallow even when the faint taste of salt drips on your tongue.

there’s a deep hum when you meet his wanton stare.

“would you have more fun if I put my cock in your little mouth instead ?”

you mewl. god, you can smell him. it’s a rich and musky scent mingled with a woodsy vanilla.

your mouth collects spit as he continues to drag his fat tip down the seam of your plump lips.

his cock is just as pretty as the rest of him. it’s wide with an odd number of veins running down his length. it wilts from its own weight despite being so hard.

his eyes glaze over, chuckling before he answers for you, “yeah, of course you would,” he murmurs. “you’d suck it just like how you suck those lollipops.”

al haitham rubs at your scalp, dragging your head so his member slides against the opening of your mouth. by now, you’re panting like needy pup with your tongue lapping up the underside of his cock.

“what if —“ his eyes flicker down to between your thighs, “I put it right here ?”

his fingers skillfully slide past your overstimulated clit to nestle in your little hole. you breathe out a loud sigh of relief when they slowly sink in, stretching your tight walls.

“h-haithy. . .” your mouth parts as meek cries fall from your sweet lips, breath fanning his dick.

“oh, what cute sounds. is this what you want ?”

“mhm. . . I dooooo,” you drawl.

your hand tangles around his wrist. it was a brave action, but he didn’t seem to mind. you were insatiable at this point as you unabashedly hump his thick fingers, chasing your own pleasure.

“I wan’ it, h-haithy. need your cock inside me.”

slick sticks to your thighs and your cunt audibly squeezes around his digits until he suddenly halts his movement.

“what do you do when you want something ?”

you sniffle, “u-use my big girl words.”

al haitham gives you a subtle look of approval.

“precisely.”

he falls silent, giving you a chance to speak but you remain hushed at first. rather, you’d let your actions allow him to draw his own conclusions.

you pull away to position yourself on your back, his fingers slipping out of your warmth.

he watches you closely, anticipating your next move.

your arms come behind your knees, revealing both of your pretty holes. delicate fingers part your puffy folds like pages of his books, displaying the gaping hole he was moments away from fucking.

with pursed lips and gleaming eyes, you ask just like how he taught you.

“big brother . . . can you please make me cum on your cock ?”

your tight pussy clenches around nothing, pushing out a stringy rivulet of creamy white.

there’s a crack in his composure.

al haitham effortlessly pulls his shirt over his head. his strong abdomen on display flexes with every breath he takes. it’s intimidating how stalks towards you, inching towards the bed with purpose.

he’s eager to mount you, his sweet little sister with a perfect ass, and a fat wet cunt he’d milk over and over again.

[orchidniins]

Helloooo i LOVE the Serendipitous beginnings😍😍😍😍 the tension is giving✨️

Btw can i have a reaction for mr.television for being possessive towards his girl, bcuz ms gurl is so pretty and many people want her💅.

Question: Do u also write for chaos crew or sidemen??

Possessive | Arthur Frederick

A/N: Thanks for the request! And I'm so glad that you loved my first ArthurTV fic! I'm absolutely in love with this idea and I hope this is what you had in mind. As for your question Anon, I currently only write for Choos crew (Mainly ArthurTV, Arthur Hill and George Clarke) and ChrisMD. Hope you enjoy!! Pairings: ArthurTV x GN!Reader Warnings: Fluff Word Count: 1k+

Masterlist

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Arthur wasn't typically the possessive or jealous type.

Throughout your relationship, he trusted you completely, especially after you had told him about you past experiences with possessive boyfriends. He had full faith in you, never feeling the need to control or restrict your interactions, even when you had male friends who would often come over to your place to hang out.

You were currently getting ready for a mini reunion with some old classmates from school. You had spent your time getting ready quite nicely this evening. The venue they had picked to meet up at was slightly fancy, so you wanted to dress up to suit the occasion. You opted for a cute outfit that complimented your figure and complexion perfectly, and you styled your hair to perfection.

As you finished getting ready, Arthur couldn't help but admire your beauty. "You look absolutely beautiful," he remarked, his hands gently resting on your waist. You smiled in response, a hint of appreciation in your eyes as you thanked him. Arthur leaned in and planted a quick peck on your cheek.

He couldn't shake the possessive urge to keep you all to himself. Despite your initial hesitance, if it weren't for him convincing you to attend, he would have gladly kept you at home, wrapped up in his arms. He had assured you he would accompany you, especially since many people would be bringing their partners.

Arthur remembered you talking about feeling unpopular in school and simply coasting through without much attention from guys or anyone really. He was shocked, he thought you were absolutely beautiful and would often voice his disbelief, but you would just shoot it down.

Once the two of you reached the venue, Arthur initially let you go off with your friends, especially when one of them pulled you away to meet the others. He decided to hang back at the bar, allowing you to have your moment.

As you mingled with a group of classmates, compliments about your stunning appearance and your transformation since school filled the air. However, despite not typically being the possessive type, Arthur couldn't shake off the pang of jealousy as your male classmates openly flirted with you, despite your polite rejections and mention of your relationship status.

Arthur, currently standing with a few of your friends that he had met previously, tried his best to resist the urge to draw closer to you. He did not want to suffocate you with his presence despite the overwhelming desire to do so. With each flirty remark directed at you, his jealousy simmered beneath the surface, yet he maintained his composure, engaging in conversation while ensuring you remained in his line of sight.

Almost as if reading Arthur’s mind, you leave the group and make your way back to him, momentarily easing his tension. However, his relief is short-lived as he watches someone intercept you on your way, attempting to chat you up as well.

Arthur's jaw tenses as he observes from where he’s stood, and a flicker of possessiveness flashes across his eyes. He turns to your friends, his tone edged with a hint of annoyance, "Who's the guy?"

As Arthur watches your body stiffen, his gaze never leaving your form, he senses your discomfort.

"Oh, him," your friend begins, catching the shift in Arthur's calm demeanor. "I didn’t know he was coming. Y/N had a bit of a crush on him in school, but he was kind of a dick to them. Like he was one of those stuck-up pricks, thought he was too good for everyone, you know?"

Feeling a surge of possessiveness, Arthur's grip tightens around his glass as he excuses himself from the conversation. He walks up to where you are standing, his demeanor protective and possessive. Wrapping his arms securely around your waist, he draws you closer, the warmth of his embrace enveloping you. Pressing a tender kiss to the side of your temple, he feels your body relax against his and your tension melts away in his embrace.

His voice, low and commanding, cuts through the air, "Hi Love, who’s this?"

Standing slightly taller than the other guy, Arthur squares his shoulders, introducing himself, "I'm their boyfriend."

The man hesitated, clearly intimidated by Arthur's imposing presence, before hastily retreating with a muttered excuse. Your pulse quickens as you look up at him, feeling a rush of arousal at his dominant display.

"Shall we?" Arthur's voice cut through the charged atmosphere, his gaze intense as he extended his hand. With a nod, you place your hand in his, allowing him to lead you back to your friends.

The rest of the night, Arthur throws his own rules out of the door, abandoning any pretense of restraint. He stays glued to your side, His arm draped protectively around your waist, or sometimes resting tenderly over your shoulder, as if to claim you as his own. He wanted to demonstrate to everyone present just how stunning you were, and more importantly, that you were his.

On your drive back home, you in the driver’s seat, a weighted silence fills the car, both grappling with the events of the night. Eventually, it was Arthur who broke it, his voice soft and filled with concern as he spoke, "Sorry if I seemed a bit too… clingy tonight. I didn’t mean to, I suppose I got a bit carried away."

You reply, your eyes remaining fixed on the road ahead, your tone reassuring and expression soft. "No, you don’t have to apologize. It was fine, honestly," you assure him.

The atmosphere in the car drifted into a comfortable lull, a moment of uncertainty, before you decided to break it with a teasing question, "So, Arthur, were you feeling a little jealous?" You glance at him, a playful smile tugging at your lips.

Arthur chuckled lightly, shaking his head in denial. "Not at all," he replied, though his expression remained hard to read as he turned to meet your gaze.

They came to a stop at a traffic light, the red glow illuminating the car. You turn to him, still teasing, "So, you weren't jealous?" you asked, pointing at him with a grin.

Arthur reached for your hand, intertwining their fingers and bringing it to his lips for a soft kiss. His eyes held yours, and he said, "Just remember who you belong to, darling."

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Check out my other fics and oneshots here. Not working on any new requests currently but feel free to drop into my asks for a chat! 😊

[strangelysamantha]

since you're asking..can u do a touch starved!damon salvatore pls,,,

hunger ✧

damon salvatore x fem!reader.

warnings: swearing, blood (obvi), smut, MDNI. 18+. biting, kissing, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk, use of nickname baby.

summary: damon was locked in the salvatore cellar for months, and when you finally bargain with stefan to let him out, he is touch starved, and all he wants is your attention.

a/n: i’m so excited to write for tvd. i’m rewatching the series and ITS SO GOOD. damon is such a hottie. like and comment if you enjoy, and my other stories/masterlist is pinned on my account. 🩷

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damon had been locked away for six months. stefan was trying to prove a point, and it made you nauseous seeing damon in such terrible condition. you couldn’t stomach it after a while, you really tried in the beginning. every morning and night you’d be outside his cell waiting for him, however as he was starved, he became more aggressive. attempting to push you away so he had no reason to look forward for the future. you didn’t allow that. you were always there, even after the comments, and hostility. his words started to affect you though. being around his presence was something you couldn’t walk away from, but you knew interacting with him when he was locked away was hard on him. you stopped staying good morning, only sitting outside his cell in silence.

you relentlessly begged stefan, wanting damon to be freed. “he’s been in there for months, with me by his side he’ll be contained. i promise.” stefan shook his head, his eyes low. shocked he even heard you suggest that again. “he can’t control himself, and the second we let him out he will go on a rampage.” you sigh, but stefan continues. “i’m not willing to get that blood on my hands, and you shouldn’t be either.” tears well up in your eyes, frustration clouding you. “stefan, i’m letting him out. he’ll do good; for me. if i'm wrong, we can throw him right back in that cell.” stefan could see how much this matter meant to you, and damon was his brother, it meant a lot to him too. “you have asked me multiple times now to free him.” you look behind him, to the hallway to the basement. “i can’t keep seeing him like this…” you voice trails off, flustered by how you were feeling. “it hurts.” stefan lowers his head, his eyes trained on the floor. “fine. but the second he can’t control his urges, i’m hunting him down.” you pull him into a hug; relief washing over you. “thank you. thank you so much.”

you run down the hall, grabbing a few blood bags on the way. you approach the cellar door. “damon?” you question. you hear him let out a devastating groan. he weakly speaks up, "hey." your heart stings at his tone, "im here to rescue you." you let out an airy laugh, you glance inside the cell, noticing a small smile on damons lips. "is that right?" you toss the blood bags into his cell, and he's quick to his feet. he immediately reaches for them, devouring the drink. "im here for you damon." after the blood bags, he had the energy to stand face to face in front of the door. his hand reached through the crack, and you join your hand in his.

"you have to promise me something before i can let you out, okay?" your words made him nervous, but he was desperate to be let out of this penitentiary. "anything, i promise." you smile, your eyes locking with his. how badly you wanted to just let him out and crash your lips against his. that was the hardest part of him being locked up, no kisses, hugs, hand holding, nothing. "you can't go on a bender again." he's silent now, the memories rushing to his head again. similarly, like they had so many times in the silence and dark of night. "i wont, you motivate me to be better." his words comforted you, you glance over at stefan and he gives a nod of approval. you undo the lock, cracking the cellar door open.

with no hesitation, damon is engulfing you. his hands roaming every inch of your body, his mouth desperately on yours. in between kisses he mutters out, "i've missed you so much." you have tears now, the reunion you've been craving for months suddenly becoming reality. you both pull away to breath, his hands holding your face, your hands around his neck. "ive been waiting, so long." you let out a hushed whimper, and damons heart softens at the sound. he was being honest, he genuinely loved you, and he wanted to do everything he could to ensure you would be his.

"thank you so much for believing in me." you pull him into another kiss, desperate to make up for lost time. "i love you damon." he pulls you into a tight hug, "i love you so much." you pull away, and link your arm with his. you lead him upstairs to join stefan. "now that you are out, any slip ups, and i will make it my life mission to lock you away, for good." you knew stefan was serious, it left a weird tension in the air. "i know brother, i'll be on my best behavior." he flashed a cheesy grin. stefan scoffs, "i'll believe it when i see it." with that, stefan leaves the room, giving you and damon some space.

"please be good for me. i can't go that long without touching you again." he grabs your chin, forcing you to make eye contact with him, "i promise i won't do anything to ruin this." you nod, "maybe you should shower." he shy's away at this, now becoming insecure of his scent. "noted." he leads you upstairs to his room. he sets out a change of clothes, heading into the bathroom. you lay on damon's bed, eager for him to finish his shower.

the steam fogged up the mirror, damon washed out his conditioner. he desperately needed the comfort of the warm water. he finishes washing up, meeting you in his room with just a towel wrapped loosely around his waist. you bite your lip, his abs on full display. "you're so handsome, damon." he smirks slightly, "im so thankful for you." you look away, "it was really hard not being able to touch you." he sighs, "i know, and i said some really harsh stuff that i regret." you nod, "i didn't take it personally i know you had a lot going on." he's relieved, and you take note of his wet hair dangling in front of face. you stand up, and he immediately pulls you close to him. "i need you." he mumbles, his hands grabbing at the flesh of your ass. he plants his mouth against yours, hungry for your touch. "i need you so bad." you groan beneath him. he leans into your neck, slowly dipping his teeth in you. he rubs your back as he drains your artery. he pulls his teeth from your neck, licking the blood that spilt down your throat. "you are so sexy, baby." you fold at his touch, and he gently places you on his bed.

you lean back, and he's littering your chest with small kisses. "missed everything about you." you lean forward, pushing the damp hair out of his face. "yeah?" he nods, his hands slipping underneath your shirt. he gently massages your stomach, desperate for the feel of your soft skin. "you know how many times the thought of you, got me through it?" your eyes go soft, "i was there every day. i asked stefan so many times to let you out." you look away, starting to frown. he tsks, grabbing your cheek. "i'm here now baby, and i don't plan on leaving anytime soon." you hold onto him tightly, afraid to lose him. "can i touch you?" without second guessing you eagerly say yes. "please touch me." he's quick to remove your pants, his fingers circling your clit. you lift your body up, melting into his touch. "fuck damon."

he lifts from your pussy, and you whine from the loss of contact. he drops his towel, revealing his hard length. "all those times in that lonely cell i thought about pounding you in a million ways." you smirk, "now we have so much time to reenacts those thoughts." he jerks his cock a few times, "yes we do, don't we?" he grabs your legs pulling you closer to him. "im gonna fuck you so hard." you shiver at his tone, he lifts your legs above you, sliding into your hole. his cock is huge compared to your tight pussy, and he groans at the feeling. "fuck you're tight." he slides deeper inside of you, filling you up. "i missed your cunt." your eyes are locked onto his facial expressions, his face filled with pleasure. he pounds you, moving your position to where your legs were wide, and you were slightly angled up. he swirls your clit with his thumb. you grab his hand while he overwhelms your bundle of nerves. "you feel so so good.." you slam your eyes shut, overwhelmed by damon's cock. his cock filled you to the brim, his fast paced had him hitting a deep spot inside of you. "its been a while im so sorry." he mumbled, his hips stirring "cum with me baby." he continued pounding you, adding pleasure from massaging you clit. he had deep groans falling from his lips, and that sent you over the edge. "please i'm gonna cum." your legs shook as your orgasm washed over you, damon's thick streams of cum cover you walls.

he stayed inside you for a second, letting you guys catch your breath, he holds you close, his lips curved into a relaxed smile. "you are perfect." he whispers. "im so glad you're all mine." you snuggle into him more, and he slowly pulls out from you, he lifts you up and carries you to the bathroom. he cleans you up with a warm rag, he kisses your thighs. "want to go to the mystic grill?" you ask him. he bites his lip, "yeah sure." you change into acceptable clothes, and the two of you head to the bar.

[pomplalamoose]

*takes deep breath* you and luke are the only ones on the ship when traveling in space (obviously) and is completely oblivious flirting n batting ur eyelashes at him he jus gets way to embarrassed :( u guys end up making out w you on his lap in the cock pitt when he’s sitting in like the control chair YKKK

*slams fist on table* YES SPECTACULAR I AGREE what a fantastic ask🤝����🩵

warning for slight nswf content

• with this scenario in mind I immediately thought of ANH Luke (though I'll get into ESB and RoTJ Luke too)

• especially if you're alone and sharing a pretty small space, it's so easy to fluster him

• so easy to get him excited

• just sit down next to him, lean in slowly, soften your voice

• "oooh Luke, this is amazing, you're doing such a good job flying this thing"

• oblivious to your schemes, he'll be quick to turn around, to beam at you proudly

• maybe he was going to tell you about the practice he got on Tatooine or his training with Han and the rebellion

• maybe he was about to wave it off, to play it cool

• though all he'll manage, caught off guard with your face closer to his than anticipated, is a soft gasp

• smile at him sweetly then, bat your eyelashes and you'll be practically able to see his brain reset as he resolves into a stuttering mess

• in his panic he won't know what to do and eventually just turns back around to "readjust the navigation system" or to "check on R2"

• just imagine him trying his absolute best to seek a distraction as his jaw clenches and his cheeks turn redder by the second

• imagine him refusing to look at you because he knows he won't be able to turn away again

• maybe after a while he's huffing in frustration, wriggling around in his seat, the urge to do something, anything, too strong

• (he's not sure what he would like to do if he's being honest but he's sure he'd successfully decide that in the moment)

• meanwhile you're having a great time

• "Is everything alright, Luke? Aren't you feeling well? You look quite hot"

• he won't tell you how much he enjoys your touch when you reach over to check his temperature in mock concern, though a barely noticeable shudder will tell you all you need to know

• he likes the attention you're paying him

• gently poke his cheek

• draw squiggly lines all over his arm

• scoot even closer until you're able to rest your chin on his shoulder

• play with the little curls at the nape of his neck

• blow in his ear

• if he didn't do so before he'll certainly react to that

• though while he tells you to stop he looks suspiciously disappointed when you remove your hand out of his hair and draw away

• that's not how he thought this would go

• he'll sneak little looks at you out of the corner of his eye to see if you're about to make another move

• he'd really like that but doesn't know how to bring it across without seeming too pushy or needy

• not many have flirted with him yet,,,can he really be sure that's what you were doing??

• and would you even want to continue after he so bluntly told you not to?

• afraid to do or say something wrong and even more so to have misread the whole situation, he'll stay silent

• alternatively he blurts out a "No!" the second your touch disappears, only to wish for an immediate death after

• since in my mind ANH Luke is still fairly inexperienced I don't think he'd make a move to clear up the situation

• (except to sneak little glances at you now and then, hoping you'll either notice the longing in his eyes or let it go completely)

• in the end it's you who'll have to initiate any further contact

• though it will take him a while to get over his embarrassment to realize you still seem to be very interested in continuing what you started

• only when you suddenly get up does he fully look at you again, his face genuinely sad at the thought of having chased you away with his weird behavior

• he's close to uttering an apology, to tellimg you he didn't mean it like this, but any clear thought simply evaporates as soon as you plop yourself down into his lap

• and then he just,,,stares

• for a long time

• to a point where maybe you feel the need to ask whether this is okay for him?

• all he'll be able to do is nod, his cheeks a fiery red

• he got what he wanted, yes, but contrary to his beliefs from earlier he has no idea, what to do now

• where to put his hands

• (he's going to be very relieved when you tell him that 1. he's allowed to touch you and 2. what exactly it is you'd like best right now)

• his head is completely empty safe for a few facts:

• you smell very nice

• for some reason the cockpit has gotten very hot

• he's painfully hard and straining against his pants in a way that's driving him to near insanity

• somewhere in the back of his mind he's aware you barely even touched him and there probably isn't a reason for him to be this excited but he can't help it

• not with you so close

• not with you perched exactly where he needs the friction the most

• it takes all he has to refrain from rutting aginst your body like a dog

• the first kiss you share is tentative, near innocent, a simple peck on the lips

• and yet Luke moans

• it's small, barely audible, but unmistakably there and were it not for more pressing issues at hand he'd be a little ashamed

• as it is though he dives forward, seeking another kiss, a longer, more passionate one

• he's greedy, doesn't hold back and soon feels bold enough to wrap his arms around your middle, holding you even closer

• it's then that he isn't even aware anymore of the sounds he's making

• or how his hips are bucking into yours, helplessly chasing release

• however as soon as he realizes what's going on it's already too late

• he has lost any control, can't stop

• it feels too good

• breathless from exertion, his voice utterly wrecked, he might try to force a few words in warning but all he can manage is a blurted apology before his orgasm catches up to him

• (be kind to him then, he'll need lots of reassurance)

• ESB Luke is just as easy to rile up but far less embarrassed about any reaction of his

• contrary to ANH Luke he's able to tell right away what you're doing too and enjoys it, probably even egging you on to do more, to try new exciting things to really catch his attention

• he's desperate to see how far you're willing to go, what else he can make you do

• in this regard he's his own biggest enemy though as he can never bring up the patience to really wait things out

• he wants everything to happen now and fast and gets easily frustrated when he feels like he's being toyed with

• accordingly you have no chance of getting away

• do you think it's funny to get him all excited only to leave the room immediately after like nothing happened?

• he doesn't

• you might get as far as rising from your seat until he has you restrained, either holding you hostage on his lap or pressing you against the next wall to do with as he pleases

• (for more look at this post)

• with RotJ and post RotJ Luke you might want to pause for a second to really think twice about whether teasing him while he's busy is a good idea

• don't get me wrong, he certainly feels drawn to you, it's just not like his body is the one making decisions anymore and suddenly he might decide you deserve a lesson for distracting him

• his patience is insane and while I think he'll let you win this fun little game of yours from time to time to not discourage you completely, your chances that he'll let it pass are slim

• he may enjoy it a lot if you try anyways, yes, even thinks it to be endearing, but can and will flip the table on you faster than you're able to think

• very quickly you will be the one to be overly excited and frustrated, the one seeking relief without knowing what to do

• if he's feeling generous he tells you to wait for him in his bed

• more often that not though he'll make you sit still for hours, orders you around for ridiculous tasks or teases you mercilessly until you just can't take it anymore

• because if there's one thing he likes more than seeing you enjoy yourself is to make you beg

[blainesebastian]

you and me

word count: 4,297 pairing: robby keene x tory nichols rating: R (for triggers such as death of a parent) summary: 6x05 fix it fic. i'm sorry but i find it so hard to believe that robby does not go after tory to check on her when everyone learns about her mother. writers please, what are we doing??? notes: spoilers, obviously, for season 6. some dialogue taken directly from the show *u*

At this point in his life, Robby has gotten a pretty good sense of feeling when the other shoe is gonna drop. He’s used to disappointment, defeat, wears it like a second skin, so familiar to the sensations that he molds it to his skin, wields it like a mask so that when those feelings hit, he can convince everyone that he knows how to deal with it. He’s had plenty of practice.

His mom, his dad, Mr. LaRusso, Sam, Kenny.

While learning and mastering karate has been all about balance for him, about not feeding kindling to emotions like anger, it’s also been about acceptance. About factors, emotions and people he can’t control. Acceptance for himself, so that things in his life don’t live in those eras of disappointment and defeat.

He tries his best not to allow old patterns to drown him.

The other shoe might drop, but that doesn’t mean he has to be defined by it.

--

Robby knows better than anyone that just because you leave Cobra Kai doesn’t always mean it leaves you. There’s this wild look in the depths of his eyes sometimes that he recognizes when he looks in the mirror. Sometimes he convinces himself it’s a trick of the light, gone before he even pins it down.

There’s only a handful of people he thinks will understand that, just the nature of the beast. When you become a monster, it stays with you, lives inside of you, sometimes not as dormant as you want it to be. Just because he’s back at Miyagi-do doesn’t mean that he still doesn’t hear a snake hissing in his ear, a death rattle under his skin.

Sometimes he itches to strike first.

Nowhere does he see that same instinct like he does in Tory’s eyes.

He recognizes it like the back of his hand, it bubbles to the surface sometimes right before she throws a punch, right before she starts an argument (or finishes one).

It’s dangerous and vicious and above all, Robby knows, seductive.

There is nothing quite like the power that slithers through your veins when you embrace Cobra Kai’s model. When you live and breathe the motto. They may have taken the head off the snake, but if he’s learned anything? Cobra Kai is a living and breathing entity—through him. Tory. His dad. Hawk. Kenny. The people’s lives its touched and ruined. No matter how hard it’s buried, sometimes it comes back.

He can feel it grip the bottom of his ribcage when he thinks about second place. When he thinks about losing to Miguel to be team captain.

It’s why he’s working so hard on that acceptance part. That if he does lose, no matter how badly he wants it, he’ll swallow down the urge to do something reckless.

Which is part of the reason he almost amends to Tory what he said earlier—that even though it would be nice to be on that podium together? In front of everyone in the world to see? It doesn’t really matter to him…as long as they’re together.

Let's make a deal, no matter what, we stick together—just you and me.

Robby may not know how to wade through much as he figures out where he fits all over again, but he knows something inside of him recognizes something inside Tory. They see one another, have always seen one another, and he sometimes wonders if that’s the only thing in his life that’s real.

--

He hasn’t been able to get ahold of Tory for almost a full day and it’s at the end of school, while waiting in a park to train with her, that he really starts to worry. Calls, texts, doesn’t matter—they all go unanswered. He knows sometimes that she has her own way of doing things, of preparing, of getting in her head in order to get shit done…but with what she told him about Kreese showing up out of nowhere?

He's worried something has happened to her. He really wouldn’t put it past their old sensei to play dirty, to do something drastic. Has she been taken? Is she hurt? His blood starts to boil under his skin and echo in heartbeats in his ears as he thinks about that night they took Cobra Kai down, at seeing her hand all mangled from an ‘accident while training���.

And while he knows Kreese wasn’t directly involved with that, it’s all the same bullshit. No mercy.

He lets out a breath as her phone goes to voicemail, again.

“Hey, it’s me,” He lets out a long breath through his nose, “I dunno what’s goin’ on, but you’re worrying me.” Robby runs a hand through his hair, “I dunno whether it’s Kreese or something else but…you’re not alone. You and me, remember? Just let me know you’re okay.”

He waits like she might actually answer him before he hangs up, squeezing the phone a bit too tonight.

Robby tells himself that it’s fine, that he doesn’t have to wind himself up for no reason. She’s probably just doing her own thing, training, that she’ll call later with an apology and a request to meet up for midnight milkshakes—something that’s become quite a thing for them.

That he’ll see her tomorrow for the captain competition with a smirk on her full lips and a kiss good luck.

--

Except she doesn’t show up.

And he’s currently getting his ass handed to him because he’s distracted, glancing at the crowd like he might see her.

Robby never knew how much strength he drew from her, how much he depended on seeing her on his side, how much he ached for her nods of encouragement and cheers of excitement. He knows that the four of them are all on the same page again, all working towards the same goal, that there’s no bad blood or ill wishing.

But he’s also not blind to the fact that Sam is very much in Miguel’s corner, just as much as Robby is in Tory’s and vice versa.

He wants to be angry at her for not being here, for ignoring him, and the black shadow of a snake inside of him wants to use that anger behind his punches and barrel into Miguel with brute force and wild, wide strokes.

But deep down, he knows how much of that will be a mistake. Regardless that he’s fucking losing.

The other shoe drops that…it’s not actually anger anyways, but deep-seeded concern—that there’s a reason she’s not here. That something happened. That something is very, very wrong. And that entire emotion wells up inside his chest like the crashing wave of an ocean. It’s all he can think about, his body shaking as he pulls himself up from the mat.

Diaz, 2 points.

Robby drags his hands through his hair and glances towards the crowd, his gaze drawn to movement in the back of the dojo. Tory’s here. He draws in a sharp breath, lungs expanding, probably foolish to admit that it feels like he can actually breathe now. She’s here, she’s okay—and the thoughts of second place are brushed away with a breeze through the backyard and replaced with a singular phrase—

You and me.

The calm he feels is so stark to the panic before that he nearly smiles when Miguel throws his next kick and he blocks it effortlessly. The dance of their fighting moves is like liquid heat, something that kisses his bones and sings in his blood. The score is evened up, it’s anyone’s win.

And by anyone, he means it’s his.

Robby knows almost instantly, before he even squares off with Miguel, that he’s going to win. One look at Tory, one nod from her, and his heart slams into his ribcage.

He’s going to win, there’s no other option.

And he does.

Point. Winner.

He’s almost in a daze for a moment afterwards, he fucking won—the smile pulling his lips almost cracking his face in two.

When Robby makes it down to Tory, he can’t stop himself from reaching for her hand, their fingers interlacing as if it’s always been that way.

“Sorry I was late.” She says and Robby takes one look at her face, her eyes, before it stops him dead in his tracks.

“You came just in time,” He replies but the words aren’t registering, because he was right. Something is wrong.

It’s in the way she’s holding herself, her shoulders slipping forward, it’s in the wildness of her hair and the trembling of her fingers, it’s in the gaze that won’t look at him, eyes wide and glassy.

He knows what he’d see if her eyes met his. It’s the same look he’s seen in his own eyes in the mirror.

“Hey,” Robby says gently, moving to clasp her chin between his fingers, to force her to look at him, “What’s wrong?”

But Tory jerks back from his touch as if she’s been burned, as if she’s finally registered what he’s said. His hand drops but it doesn’t stop him from reaching for her, that same gnawing pit in his stomach beginning all over again at that look in her eyes.

“Tory,” Robby tries but she’s pulling away from him the moment his dad says LaRusso, Nichols to get up on the mat.

His mouth hangs open with unsaid words, his fingers itching to pull her down, away, to talk to him even though she’d throw fists at him the entire way.

Something catches in his chest as the fight begins and it only adds to the aching pit in his stomach that something is very wrong. Robby has watched Tory fight and train countless times, she keeps her body tight and her movements fluid, powerful punches and debilitating kicks.

But there’s too much emotion behind her draws, her footwork is messy, her arms are too wide and wild.

Her eyes are completely feral.

“Dad,” He calls out, tries to get his attention, to get them to stop, but it’s spiraling too fast, Tory advancing on Sam with her fist raised—

Until Mr. LaRusso catches her hand.

Robby lets out a haggard breath, his eyes fluttering to his sensei that he didn’t even see move up onto the mat because he couldn’t take his gaze off his girlfriend.

“The fight’s over.” He says, dropping Tory’s hand and Robby feels himself take an instinctive step towards the mat, the reckless look in her eyes nearly taking over her entire body.

“That’s not fair! That could have been a point.”

He’s not sure whether Mr. LaRusso heard him trying to call out to his dad to intervene or whether something is actually going on—there’s this expression on his sensei’s face, the same one mirrored on his wife, who’s gripping her phone so tight that her knuckles are turning white.

Robby opens his mouth to say something, to ask questions, to try and get Tory’s attention—when his girlfriend suddenly explodes when the arguing continues about her getting a fair fight.

“Because my mother died!”

He stares at her, the dojo slipping into an eerie silence, and he can feel the color draining from his face as all the pieces he was sifting through slip into place.

Holy fuck. Has she been dealing with this this entire time? Why didn’t she call him? Why didn’t she pick up his calls? Robby’s heart clenches in his chest as Tory tries to argue for her chance at this fight, the one she wants to have right the hell now, that she’s not backing down from.

The anguish is so potent he nearly chokes on it, taking a step towards her as she begins to spiral, as she realizes that she will not get what she wants here. He pushes himself up onto the mat, his hands up and in front of him, wanting to touch her but not wanting to spook her any further.

He realizes now how much she feels like a wounded animal, capable of striking out, striking first, baring her teeth. “My mom, she would have wanted this. If I don’t fight—I have to do this, I have to do this for her.”

“Tory, let’s just take a second and breathe—”

“No, Robby, no.” She chokes out.

Tory pushes everyone away, pushes him away and he can see the moment Kreese’s ugly words rear their head, spilling out of her mouth, tossing them into Mrs. LaRusso’s face about her beating her daughter, about how she’d never be first choice when it really mattered.

Second place, second place, second, second—

Robby swallows over a lump in his throat, his hands reaching for her even though she pulls away from his grasp, “Don’t touch me,” She snaps, “You want this fight to be over? Fine! It’s over.” She jumps off the mat, making a b-line for the parking lot.

“Tory, where are you going—” He calls out, her voice edging on the end of his sentence, screaming finality—I’m done.

Robby tails after her so fast that he nearly knocks Hawk over as he spills through the other members of Miyagi-do, not caring about who gets stuck in the crossfire.

“Tory!” He yells, hoping to catch up with her, praying she didn’t manage to somehow leave within those milliseconds she got away from him. He’s also praying that no one is following him, he needs to talk with her alone.

“Tory—” Robby just gets her name out of his mouth as he turns the corner before her fist is flying at his head. He ducks, barely, shifting to the right to avoid another toss of her wrist that he knows is coming.

“Leave me alone,” She spits at him, eyes like liquid fire, tears brimming the edges of her long lashes. “Go back in there, Robby.”

“No,” He says automatically, his voice calm despite the hammering in his chest. He takes a fighting stance, bringing his arms up. “Not without you.”

Robby doesn’t want to fight her but he has a feeling she’s not going to talk to him either. The last thing he’s about to let her do is leave, not how she is right now, not like this. He knows she’s not the first person to open up to someone else, no matter how close they are, but he’s not going to let her go through this alone. He doesn’t care if he has to force his way into her space, to somehow convince her that he’s not going anywhere.

She snaps another punch but it’s sloppy, he gently deflects by pushing her arm in the other direction. “You think I need you?” Tory bites, angry, so angry he feels like he can see steam coming from her ears.

But he takes none of it personally, he knows he’s not the one she’s really mad at. She can throw whatever she wants at him, he can take it.

“You want to fight someone? Fine—fight me. I know you pretend you don’t need anyone,” He tells her, blocking another hit. He’s not going to throw his own punches, just deflect hers. He dances with her in this circle, keeping his body loose, his hands low so he doesn’t do something reactive.

That seems to piss her right off, she throws a kick this time and it lands to his chest. He loses his balance for a moment, backing up into one of the old-fashioned cars Mr. LaRusso keeps outside the dojo, nearly stumbling to avoid another hit that she goes for. He ducks, reflexes fast, and her fist connects with the car window. It doesn’t break, but he hears a crack in the glass, the blood coming away on her knuckles.

She doesn’t even register the pain.

“I know because I’ve been there. I used to do the same thing. But it’s okay to need someone Tory. I’m not going anywhere.” Robby backs up, trying to give her space to move, but she’s coming at him quick—too quick, too feral, looking to hurt as she’s hurting.

He’s distracted for one moment, someone else coming out from the dojo—maybe Sam? Saying his name. Tory cracks her fist along the bottom half of his face, snapping his head to the side. He can feel the moment his teeth split open his lower lip.

And then something happens.

Robby isn’t sure what it is—whether it’s the step he stumbled back from her or the blood he wipes from his lip, but something breaks the spell holding onto Tory. She stares at him, at the cut on his lower lip, with wide, wet eyes, her fingers uncoiling from fists and dropping to her sides.

“I’m sorry,” She says in a whoosh of air, her breathing too fast.

Robby stands up straight, his arms falling as he shakes his head. “It’s okay.”

He barely gets the words out because Tory is also shaking her head, tears spilling down her cheeks, a ghostly look on her face as if she’s realized what she’s done, who she’s hurt. “I’m sorry,” She repeats, over and over, her words beginning to hiccup as she squeezes her eyes shut and tries to turn away from him.

“Hey, hey,” Robby’s voice is calm as he reaches for her, not accepting the space she’s trying to put between them. He wraps his arms around her, pulling her into his chest until she relents. He feels the moment she does, a sob slipping from her lips and practically vibrating his entire body.

He closes his eyes, burying his face in her hair, drawing one hand up to rest on the back of her head as the other smooths wide circles along her spine. When her knees give out, he gently brings them to the ground, keeping her close, pressing a long kiss to her temple as she cries.

She’s been holding this in for a while and he doesn’t try to talk, there’s nothing he can say—he just wants her to feel whatever she needs to. Tory keeps her face hidden in his shoulder, her hands gathering up the fabric of his Gi between her fingers, anchoring herself to him.

Robby glances over his shoulder, glad that the voice of the person that called out to him from the dojo is no longer there. The last thing he wants is for there to be an audience.

He draws in a short breath, threading his fingers through her hair until she pulls back to look up at him. Robby gives her the faintest smile, cupping her cheek, thumbing away a tear track.

“I’m gonna take you home.” He says softly, relieved when she doesn’t put up a fight.

Tory sniffles and nods, seeming utterly exhausted now that the adrenaline has disappeared. Her forehead droops to his shoulder and he squeezes his arms a bit tighter around her.

He meant what he said—he’s not going anywhere.

--

The apartment is unnervingly quiet when they get there. Robby’s changed out of his Gi back at the dojo and he tries to convince Tory to take a shower to soothe her muscles, to unknot some of the tension in her spine, but she outright ignores him. Instead, she makes a b-line for her bedroom to change her clothes and Robby sighs, running a hand over his face, pinching the bridge of his nose.

He's already decided that he’s spending the night here (whether she likes it or not). While he does not understand the pain of losing a parent (even though he can empathize with loss where parents are concerned in a small way), he knows that Tory is walking a very narrow emotional tightrope. He’s not going to leave her side until she’s…functioning better than he saw her today.

Until that look disappears from her eyes.

Robby opens up a few cabinets in the kitchen and checks the fridge for food, texting his dad and Mr. LaRusso so that they know he’s here, that as of right now Tory is okay, or at the very least as okay as she can be. He slips his phone into his back pocket, turning as he hears her come down the hall.

She’s changed into a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt he is ninety-five percent is his and that almost draws a small smile to tug onto his lips. She’s run a brush through her hair, washed her face, color kissing her cheeks pink. He’s never seen her look so small in all the time he’s known her and his fingers itch to gather her in his arms once again.

Tory looks up at him, swallows, “You don’t have to stay.”

Well that’s not going to happen. “You have a first-aid kit?”

She stares at him for a long moment, seeming to understand that he will fight her on this if he has to, even though he doesn’t want to. Her gaze flickers to his mouth before she pulls out the first-aid kit from under the kitchen sink and then reaches into her freezer for a frozen bag of peas.

Wrapping the bag in a washcloth, she turns to look at him, her hand tentatively reaching out to touch his cheek. He can see the remorse all over her face but Robby gently catches her wrist, squeezing the fingers of her uninjured hand,

“Don’t worry about it,” He tells her, “I’m okay. You’ve hit me harder than this before.”

That earns him a ghost of a smile and Robby smiles back, leaning forward to press a kiss to her forehead. “Go sit on the couch, I’m gonna check out your hand.”

Tory turns and does as he asks and it’s like the fight has melted right out of her, pressing her into the corner of the couch. He knows that it won’t always be like this, that the rough emotions will come and go like waves. But it’s important that she feels every single one of them and then lets them go.

Whether she knows it or not, Tory has a support system that can help her do that.

Robby opens a drawer for another washcloth, wetting it with warm water and brings the first-aid kit with him to the coffee table in front of the couch. He sits down on the edge of it, his knees bumping into hers as he reaches for her injured hand.

There’s so much he wants to say to her, words hiding underneath his tongue, and yet he doesn’t know how to say any of it. He wants to ask her why she didn’t call him, why she thought she had to go through this alone, but it doesn’t feel right for him to say it. At least not right now. The last thing he wants is for her to feel like he’s attacking her.

Robby just…he cares about her so much and it kills him to think about her in pain, shouldering all of this.

He brushes his thumbs over her knuckles, wincing just a little at the angry redness of them. Only a few cuts that aren’t even bleeding now, no glass anywhere in sight. He figured it wouldn’t be too bad but…

He gently begins cleaning her hand with the wet washcloth, ridding her skin of the dried blood. Robby knows that this is the last thing they should talk about but he also knows how Tory’s mind works, what’s plaguing her thoughts since they left Miyagi-do.

“We can talk to our senseis, reschedule that fight with Sam when you’re ready.”

Tory swallows, shaking her head, her voice is a bit hoarse, “They’ll never let me do that, not after what happened.”

Robby’s eyebrows draw together in slight concentration, “They’ll give you another shot, Tor, you deserve another shot.” He sets the washcloth down and opens up the first-aid box, resting their hands on his leg as he digs through for antiseptic. He tears open the small wipe with his teeth, a soft apology leaving his lips because he knows this will sting.

She winces when he begins cleaning her cuts, padding them dry with a cotton swab. Nothing is split open, so she doesn’t need band-aids but…he does gently wrap her hand with a thin layer of gauze.

“It’s too late for me.” She says and he hates the way her voice shakes, hates that it reaches inside his chest and squeezes.

Robby shakes his head, finishing with her hand. He lifts her knuckles to his lips, pressing a soft kiss as he wraps his fingers around hers. “It’s not too late,” He replies, “Hey,” He whispers, drawing her eyes to his, “It’s not.”

Tory bites down on her lower lip to stop it from wobbling, but he can see her eyes fill with tears again as they draw back and forth over his face, occasionally snagging on his split lip, “What am I going to do, Robby?” She chokes out and he knows they’re not talking about the Sekai Tekai anymore.

Robby cups her cheek, brushing his thumb across the bone as he holds her gaze, “Whatever it is?” He says after a moment, “We’ll figure it out together, okay? You and me.” He repeats the same phrase he told her before.

Tory sniffles, leaning back when Robby stands so he can sit next to her. He tugs her into his arms again, holding her against his body, her face tucking into the crook of his neck. He pulls a blanket down from the back of the couch to wrap around her body, his hand smoothing up and down her arm.

“Deal,” She whispers and for the first time in a long time, Robby feels himself relax.

[rainynightmoonlight]

Can you please do genshin impact characters zhongli, raiden shogun, and childe listing to listing Enemy by Imagine Dragons and JID. Thank you

.·:🎼¨༺ Songs from the heart ༻¨🎼:·. | Enemy!

Characters: Raiden Shogun, Childe, Zhongli

Song: Enemy by Imagine Dragons & JID

Warnings: Yandere themes, Angst, possessive thoughts, a mental spiral, murder

A/U: Self aware genshin AU

a/n: Enemy is one of my favorite songs! Thank you so much for requesting this!!

ZHONGLI

You were exploring with Zhongli, as he heard music surround him. It wasn’t out of the normal for you to play music as you played, but one particular song played. He was startled, however, when he noticed your reaction to it. He was frozen, seeing you having what looked like a panic attack. One lyric in particular caught his attention because of your reaction to it. 

“Pray it away, I swear I'll never be a saint, no way”

That one lyric hit him real hard. Zhongli always had trouble with the fact that people idolize the name Morax, even after retiring from the Archon title. He always felt like a lousy Archon after retiring, and hearing something that related so close to his feelings shook him. Especially from you, the all mighty god and creator. The self-pity feeling dissipated when he heard your breathing become even faster. 

Zhongli turned his gaze to see if you were getting worse. You were, and it only made Zhongli become even angrier. Your tears enraged the Geo Archon. He didn’t know how to interpret this song, but he took it as a cry for help. He wanted to kill those who were picking on you, hurting you to the point of a mental break-down. Zhongli wasn’t sure if this was from recent events, or past events, but all that mattered was this song reminding you of pained memories.

His eyes widened when you started to hurt yourself with your own hands. His mind started to spiral along with yours. Someone was going to get very hurt if they pissed off Zhongli after you logged off. His hands trembled as this wave of violent urges came over him. He tried to keep a fixated gaze on your tear stained face, plotting the revenge of those that caused you to look like this. 

“Those lowlifes will regret ever making an enemy of you, my dearest god.”

CHILDE

He was humming to himself as you were completing commissions easily with him. He loved listening to the music you picked while you played. Childe, however, had caught on to your feelings quite quickly. He was keeping a close eye on you, but noticed you starting to spiral as this song started to play. A substantial amount of anger arose in his mind as one lyric connected with him. 

“Everybody wants to be my enemy”

Childe’s mind went to very dark places, his eyes dulling in rage. His smile morphed into a neutral line, his lips quivering with the shaking rage. It didn’t matter what caused you to feel so upset. But there was this sense of sympathy, being seen as the enemy himself by others. There was this need to hold you and comfort you. To tell you that it’s okay to be seen as the bad guy. 

His thoughts were full of paranoia now. What if you hated him for being part of the bad guy organization. He started a crisis alongside you, but it got worse every time he looked into your pained eyes. Childe’s hands trembled, his bow still transformed into his double swords. Childe’s mind became more and more violent the more the song went on. 

He was seeing red, wanting to bring those down that made you cry. Childe wanted to take you away from the world that hurt you. He was working so hard to find a way to bring you into his arms with the Fatui. His elemental skill was activated automatically, but your mind was too busy with the panic. He brought one of the surrounding enemies down by himself, without your control because he was so upset that someone could bring you to this panicked state. 

“If everyone sees you as an enemy, then we will be enemies together and let those who disagree fall below our feet.”

RAIDEN SHOGUN

Ei was in an all happy mood as you used her puppet to wonder around Teyvat. You were taking photo’s loving the game’s scenery and Ei was happy that she was the subject of those photos. She was intrigued by the music you were playing. It was so foreign to her because no place in Teyvat had music like this. Her ears perked up as she heard you becoming distressed as one particular song played, and one lyric connected the most with her.

“Your words up on the wall as you're praying for my fall And the laughter in the halls and the names that I've been called”

Ei’s whole mood changed, seeing you having a panic attack. She felt her puppet come back as there was a coldness of murderous urges rise. Ei tried to keep control, but she felt the same murderous intent. Thunderstorms started to form within the Inazuman sky, representing Ei’s anger. She was fighting so hard not to lose it in front of you. But for some reason, there was a sense of relatability with the lyric.

Ei understood the feeling of people hoping for her downfall, especially during the era of the Sakoku Decree. Her mind went to the past, the mistake of letting the puppet she created to reign over Inazuma without her influence. There was so much resentment for herself, as well as for those who hurt you. Her thoughts focused on every single possibility where she wasn’t there to help protect you.

Her mind was splitting with so many overwhelming images. She had this sense that she failed you. She fell to her knees, eyes wide and teary with disbelief. Ei begged for you to stop crying, but alas you couldn't hear her through a screen. There was one last thing she muttered, however.

“Those who ruin my eternity with your happiness shall face the wrath of the Electro Archon.”

Do not repost or translate without my explicit permission! Reblogs are welcome!

[abiiors]

𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚒 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚝 𝚊 𝚑𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚠𝚘 — 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚟𝚒

✧ — 𝚖𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝

✮ a/n: this might turn out to be slightly anachronistic, but can we ignore that guys? just focus on matty okay?

✮ cw: not much really, just...fire...

✮ wc: 2.7k

unknown: i know you never want to hear from me again unknown: but happy anniversary juliette unknown: i know what i did was absolutely horrible babe but talk to me once please. just once. it would have been four years together today.  unknown: don’t throw us away like this.  unknown: - max <3 

jules fumes as princess peach lands a solid kick onto donkey kong’s chest. the ape goes flying and off the platform. matty winces on the phone, right into her ear. 

“ouch…”

“yeah, well, it’s a fighting game,” she snaps, “again.”

on screen the match starts again. the characters start at their designated spot, moving a little in place and waiting for either jules or matty to make the first move. 

she goes on the offensive, blindly kicking and punching without giving much thought to it. 

matty curses on the other end of the line. he moves a little slower than the last time, more focused on dodging her blows than landing any of his own. 

“are you going easy on me?” she accuses, her tone almost threatening. there’s a little bit of noise on his end. donkey kong stops moving completely. 

“what’s up, jules?”

“is that why you stopped the game? to ask me what’s up?”

matty sighs. she has a distinct feeling he’s just rubbed a hand over his face. the thought somehow makes her angrier. 

“you sound annoyed…”

“yeah,” she snaps, “annoyed that you won’t play.”

“jules…” his voice is a low warning, and she swears under her breath. 

she’s being really unfair to him. she isn’t annoyed at him, she’s annoyed at all the messages currently sitting unanswered on her phone. not that that’s going to change at all. max can go die in a ditch and rot for all she cares. the audacity he has to imply that she’s the one throwing them away!

“can i come over?” matty asks, his voice cautious. 

maybe he should, jules thinks. maybe he can fuck the frustration out of her. then again, she’s really not in the mood. she doesn’t think this is the kind of anger that can be taken care with sex.

maybe by bashing max’s head into a brick wall… 

jules resists the urge to groan and kicks the wii u away like a petulant child. 

“i’m not in the mood—”

“we don’t have to fuck,” he adds quickly. “i just… would like to come over anyway.”

is that… concern she hears in his voice? his voice is much gentler than before, softer around the edges. she wonders if he’s nervously gnawing on his lip, crossing his fingers in hopes that she would let him. despite her sulky, sour mood, that thought brings a tiny smile to her face. 

“alright…” she bites on her nail, a little nervous, “carly’s home though.”

matty snickers. “window it is.”

jules plops on her bed, a tiny smile on her face and scrunches her eyes shut. “i’ll see you soon.”

it’s only the second time he’s climbing her window, so jules waits with bated breath, her hand hovering mid air as if she’d be able to catch him if he fell. matty succeeds though, jumping into her room like the last time. 

unlike the last time, he doesn’t immediately go in for a kiss. he leans, his back pressed to the window and arms crossed in front of his chest, scrutinising her a little. jules notices he has a thin sweater on today, sleeves pushed up to his elbows to reveal forearms sparsely covered in tattoos. 

“hi,” she whispers, a little awkward. he’s looking at her like he’s trying to figure her out. like she’s a specimen. and it’s not necessarily in a bad way, but she’d rather he didn’t figure everything out about her within a month of knowing her. 

“you alright,” he tips his chin up, greeting her like a frat bro as opposed to his usual sing-song version of hi jules. she realises she misses it a little. 

“yeah, why?”

“on the phone it sounded like you were going to throw that controller across the room.”

jules groans and turns, dragging her feet back to her bed.

matty follows suit, his brows scrunched up as he keeps looking at her. when she gets in bed, sitting on top of the covers, matty does the same. 

“what were you playing?” he motions to her 3ds. jules holds it up for him to see. 

“majora’s mask. i restarted it.”

“can i see that?”

wordlessly, she hands it to him, watches him figure out the controls and move link around a little on the screen. 

“have you played this one before?”

“what, zelda?” he raises a brow and jules realises that it was a stupid question after all. still she grumbles. grabbing pancake the bear and practically squishing him tight enough to pop an eyeball.

matty winces. “will you talk to me?”

“i am talking to you.”

“jules!” he sounds stern, which is very much out of character for him. a second passes and matty snatches pancake away from jules, holding the bear hostage. “you’re not getting him back till you tell me what’s wrong.”

“noth—”

“i’ll take him home, jules,” he threatens, holding the bear high above his head. she tries to swat at it, almost landing up in his lap in the process, but matty refuses to give up. so finally she huffs and gives up, pouting like a grump and refusing to meet his eyes. 

“it’s max.”

from the corner of her eye she can see him raise an eyebrow. the expression on his face is a little cautious, a little guarded. he looks like he wants to say something but is trying to find the right words for it. 

“here,” jules holds up her phone for him, the screen flashing the five messages from the unknown number that are still unanswered. 

matty drops pancake next to him and takes her phone, still a little hesitant. jules wait. 

he frowns while he reads, mouthing the words along and pausing at all the places she had when she first read those messages, stopping completely when he reaches the penultimate message. 

don’t throw us away like this.

jules feels anger bubble up inside her once again. how fucking dare he?!

“right…” matty hands the phone back to her. “should we go set fire to his house?”

the question is so sudden, so serious, that she has no other choice but to blink at him in surprise. a second passes, and she bursts out laughing. it’s a laugh that comes from deep within her, leaving her giggling for a good few seconds while matty stares at her. 

he smiles, his eyes softening and the corners of his mouth just barely lifted. it’s the kind of smile that has her feeling self conscious all of a sudden, and not necessarily in a bad way. 

“so violent,” she teases. “there’s something we can burn though…”

he cocks an eyebrow, staring at her with renewed interest. 

she can’t lie and say it’s a new thought, but in this moment it feels solid, real. as if she needed matty to breathe life into it. 

“i’ll show you.” jules gets off the bed and walks towards her wardrobe, looking at him in warning. matty follows her, hovering right behind her but not quite touching. 

there’s a whiff of decay the moment she opens the door to the spare wardrobe, stronger than the last time. matty swears. 

“fuckin’ hell, what have you got there? his body?”

she rolls her eyes. “the flowers he sent me.”

he hums behind her, coming a little closer to peer over her shoulder at the dead and rotting bouquets. 

“‘s a good time to finally get rid of them, don’t you think?” 

“burn them you mean?” he bumps his hip into hers, teasing slightly, “so violent.” 

her words echoed back to her. jules giggles a little. 

“would it make you feel better?” matty asks. his hand is on her waist now, gently turning her until she’s facing him and looking right into his honey coloured eyes. she has to crane her neck a little to properly look at him. she tries not to steal a few glances at his lips (and fails, ultimately, but matty doesn’t tease her about it at least). 

“i think so, yeah.”

“then that’s what we’re doing,” he declares. jules nods, determined now, and gets a bag out for the flowers.

there’s a heap in front of them. a heap of dried flowers on the ground in a clearing. if jules didn’t know better, she would have suspected matty brought her here to murder her, that’s how isolated it looks in the dying light of the sun. 

“you’re worried,” he points out. 

“don’t wanna set fire to the woods!” jules points out the obvious, hesitant to light the match and throw it onto the heap. it’s not like she’s going to need much of kindling for this. she knows it will catch the moment it comes into contact with that first flame. 

still the nerves in her stomach don’t let her do it as easily. 

“you won’t,” he traces his knuckles down her spine, leaving her shivering from the simplest of touches, “trust me.”

“and you know this… how exactly?” 

jules turns to look at matty fully. 

the absurdity of the situation almost makes her laugh. here she is, in the middle of the fucking woods with another man on her anniversary with max. here she is, burning the flowers max gave her when once upon a time she would have desperately tried to keep them alive for as long as possible. 

“thoughts,” matty taps her head, “what are you thinking?”

“about how weird this is. maybe in a parallel universe i’d be with max having a nice dinner somewhere.”

matty’s face changes a little then. some of the warmth in his eyes leaves, replaced with an expression she can’t quite put a name to. he clears his throat. “and do you wish you were doing that still?”

“no,” jules turns away again, back to look at the dead flowers. “i’m glad i’m here instead.”

saying it out loud makes her realise just how true it is. i’m glad i’m here with you instead of max, i’m glad it’s somehow come to this. 

she closes her eyes and shakes her head a little. she can’t be thinking these thoughts. she can’t. 

just sex. it’s just sex. 

outside of that, they’re friends and nothing more. 

“should we set them on fire?” her voice trembles a little, so does her hand. she can hear matty’s heartbeat with how close he stands to her—his chest just barely brushing against her back. 

the space between them is full of electricity.

“they’re yours to burn,” he whispers, a tad dramatic if she’s being honest but his words still skitter over her bones. jules smiles a little. 

“right.” she holds up the match, a little more confident now, and strikes. the flame burns steady. before she has the chance to overthink it, jules throws the burning matchstick into the pile of flowers. 

for a moment nothing happens. she thinks maybe the fire went out, maybe she should give up and go home. and sure it might not be as satisfying as watching those flowers burn, she would have at least gotten rid of them. until a small flame rises from under the heap. 

it licks at the petals, growing hungrier and consuming the leaves and the stems until what jules is looking at it a blazing bonfire. behind her, matty whoops, arms thrown up in the air, and his face stretched into a wide grin. 

jules mimics him, whooping a second later. 

“they’re burning!” she shrieks, her voice full of awe. “i did it, i got rid of them!”

“you did,” matty laughs with her. 

she stands there for a moment, looking at the flames, at the way they turn each flower to ash slowly. the more she watches the lighter she feels. the more the flames burn the easier it is for her to breathe. maybe she’d let the rot stay in her life for way too long, let it consume parts of her that should have been blooming. 

“are you crying?” matty stands in front of her, partially blocking her view now and with concern etched on his face. it’s then that she realises her cheeks do feel a little wet. 

“no, i—” she tries to come up with something only to be stopped by the lump in her throat. 

matty moves tentatively, hand coming up to her face. his calloused thumb swipes at her cheeks, so tender and gentle that her heart swells in her chest. one by one he wipes the tears away.

“sorry for being a crybaby,” she lets out a watery chuckle, “i’m having a moment or something.”

“clearly,” matty teases a little. “come here.”

before she has a chance to say something more, his arms are around her, holding her in place. jules rests her cheek against his chest, right over his heart so that she can hear his heart beating in her ear. she wonders why it’s so loud and fast. she wonders why hers feels the same. 

she tries not to inhale deeply and make it obvious. but his scent is all around her, comfort and safe and so fucking familiar that she wants to stay here and keep breathing it in until her veins are full of it. 

she hugs him back, her arms squeezing him and holding him so close, holding onto him so he won’t step away from her. not that he does… a second later, she feels his cheek rest on her head, feels his thighs touching hers. 

the fire burns steady next to them. 

her heart feels so full then, she feels like she might just explode. but jules does absolutely nothing to move away from him, to put some distance between them. even when this feels… so much more intimate than any kind of sex ever has. 

she doesn’t move even when matty hums a soft little tune and sways them, not when she follows his lead and sways with him. 

“what are we doing?” she asks, so softly that it’s barely even a sound, but jules doesn’t want to startle him and break this moment. 

he stops humming for just a second. “dancing.”

that’s obvious. she knows they’re dancing, moving side to side while he hums and she tries not to bury her face deep in his t-shirt. 

“and friends dance like this?” she asks, her voice thick. 

matty keeps on humming for a second longer. “we do a lot of things friends don’t.”

and right now she wants to do something even their rules forbid. she wants to kiss him, just… kiss him. she wants to stand there by the fire, swaying in his arms and kiss him until she can’t breathe anymore. 

but jules banishes the thought so quickly that it barely registers. instead she pulls away a little, still in his arms and looks up at him. he’s already looking at her, his face a strange, calm mask. 

“your place is closer,” she points out. 

matty nods. “it is.”

“should we go?” 

he smiles at her a little crooked, almost like he’s figured her out—figured out that if they’re fucking she’ll get to kiss him, at least. if not by the fire, swaying in his arms, then half-naked in his bed.  

“if you want,” he tips his head, looking away from her to the fire that’s almost done consuming the flowers. it’s almost on its way out, burning steady but on a dying path. 

“i do,” jules nods. 

matty steps away from her, takes her hand in his like he had that day in the big tesco and pulls her along. jules follows him and swallows the lump that’s curiously still in her throat.

[banggyu0308]

need kai with a breeding kink ugh just so needy and touchy constantly wants to fill you up and have his cum dripping out of u aahhh and like he tries really hard to control himself around the members or when ur out in public but is still way too touchy and just can’t hold back (always ready for a quicky no matter where u are… bathroom.. changing rooms at a store… the dorms sofa while the members are in their rooms… the list goes on..)

sharing this idea with everyone cause this is so >.<

-

kai who's so, so touchy all the time, can't keep his hands off you cause he needs you so bad :(( he could just be having a normal conversation with you and someone else and all of a sudden he just has the urge to pull you aside ruin your tight little pussy, even better if his cum leaks out and stains your cute shorts, better yet if yeonjun notices during your conversation 🤭 tugging you into the bathroom because kai just HAPPENED to spill his drink on himself, and he needs you to help clean up, doesn't he? needs you to help him with something else too, and you only realize that when he's tugging at your shorts, mind and eyes quickly filling with lust and you're helping him now, would've been so much easier if you'd worn shorts today :(( thick cock filling you so quickly, kai's gotta make it quick but he wants you to feel just as good, rubbing at your clit while fucking you from behind, over the counter just how you like it, his free hand moves to cover your mouth because even though he knows you can keep quiet, he can't ignore the twitch of his dick when you turn your head slightly to look at him, eyes wide and eyebrows furrowed with pleasure, cumming around him so quickly cause you can't help it, the small gasp that follows not from your orgasm but from his, hot cum filling you up so nicely, a strained breath coming from behind you as he pulls out, all your clothes replaced in record time, gonna go back to yeonjun now, hyung who looks between your state and kai's equally messy shirt, two and two fits together nice and quickly in his head but he keeps his mouth shut, maybe the two of you will let him join next time..~

[rinstaro]

Time can slut me tf out frfr lmao so u kno the post u made abt time ans reader having tension???? What if u flipped it so time was goin after the reader. Like u jus be chillin choppin some veggie and he comes up n starts feelin u up??

ahahaha i think i favor time now because i’ve been writing him?? he started speaking to my daddy issues and good god are they listening 🤭 he’s so djdjxjsk SLUT ME OUT!!!!!!! PLEASE!!!!!!!

cw: time should be a warning on his own. what a man! i don’t know how far i wanna write yet. hmmmm. touchie feelies, choking so slight it’s not even there, time is a hair puller, and a fiend, biting, reader has a vagina no pronouns, i spend far too long detailing how horny he is for u

minors do not interact.

it was moments like this where time realized he didn’t have as much self control as he thought. could you really blame him? you always looked adorable, even more so when you wore his shirts like you are now. but the hickeys on your neck and thighs that had almost faded were dragging his thoughts into the gutter.

he’d ravaged you only a couple days prior, your legs so weak you couldn’t even stand. it was lovely to have him pamper you for a couple days, but you were his oh so strong and independent spouse. when you could walk again, you insisted on cooking and cleaning for him the same way he did you. time insisted it was fine but you were much more stubborn than him. the conversation hadn’t even lasted a minute.

“i’m fine.”

“i don’t mind cooking for us again, you can rest some more until tomor—“

“zip it. i’m cooking tonight and you will love every bite.”

and so he was banished to the kitchen table to watch you prepare dinner. he couldn’t say he didn’t like the view, though. perhaps a bit too much.

you felt a body behind you, flinching only slightly before relaxing again. “hi, dear.” “hello, love.” time wrapped his arms around your waist, sitting his head on your shoulder. “those carrots are cut a little thick, no?” he murmured in your ear.

“hey, i have a knife,” you huffed. he laughed softly, heart fluttering at even the smallest bit of attention you give him. he silently watched you a while longer before his eyes drifted down to your hands. he adored them.

they were the same hands that were holding onto his shoulders for dear life the other night.

time really thought you were just so cute. he stood up a bit, going to observe the faded marks on your neck. unable to resist, he leaned back down to nip at one, causing you to yelp and furrow your brows. “hey,” you urged, you’re lucky i’m done chopping. what if you distracted me and i cut myself, huh?”

“i’d kiss it better and you’d never have to lift a finger again.”

you roll your eyes, getting your seasonings down from the shelf. whatever smart remark you had for him quickly faded when he gave a nice squeeze to your backside. instead of responding, you huffed once more and continued your task. time let out a small hum, displeased with your lack of response. “you really should just let me take care of you.”

you attempted to season your vegetables, only to halt when time traced his hands up your body. he went from your waist to your stomach, all the way up to your chest. his hands stopped around the base of your neck, thumbs rubbing circles on your collarbone. your breathing only got shakier when his mouth replaced his hands. he grabbed your waist once more and pulled you flush against him, sucking fresh hickeys into your neck.

your hands gripped his, your form starting to tremble. you continued to try and be stubborn, biting your lip when small whines escaped. time traced his hands down your arms before grabbing the seasonings out of your hands and placing them on the counter.

his hands went back to work, one reaching under your shirt to play with your nipple, and the other coming to lightly tug on your hair, pulling your head to the side for more access to your neck. this time, he bit down hard. your knees buckled and you unconsciously pressed back into him, whimpering louder than you would have liked to admit.

you finally come to your senses to wriggle out of his arms, turning around and crossing your own arms in front of your chest.

“you must really not want to eat tonight,” you chided. your husband only gave you a lazy grin in response. he suddenly hoisted you up, quickly carrying you over to the table. you squealed, arms flailing and wrapping around his neck. he sat you down, spreading your legs wide. how cute. you weren't even wearing underwear.

“i think i'll be just fine, dear." without another word he dove into your sopping cunt, his tongue leaving no spot untouched. you threw your head back, letting your moans out freely. dinner could wait, he thought. he'd been craving you all day.

sure, he could go for a comforting meal after a long day, but he’s far more comforted by your thighs clamping around his head.

[finniestoncrane]

KTJL!Boomer x Fem!Reader, word count: 1.5k it was inevitable that this would consume me the moment it was brought up, so please enjoy some subby boomer being teased. he has to stay very still, or the little bell on his bellend will earn him a punishment u-u💙 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: genital piercing, teasing, punishment, humiliation, grinding, stripping, praise kink

"It looks very cute, Dig. If it wasn't going to make so much noise, I'd suggest you keep it on at all times."

"I would like you to know that I am holding back the urge to make a joke about a bellend right now."

You smiled at him, supressing your laughter, not wanting to encourage him.

George removed his hands from his cock, satisfied that the small bell he'd attached to the piercing on the underside of his tip was secure enough. With a flourish of his hands, he showed it off, grinning wide at you. The idea was yours, and he still wasn't quite sure of the intentions behind the decoration. But anything that involved you and his cock was worth the risk of the unknown.

Patiently, like the surprisingly well-behaved boy he was deep down, George waited for your instructions. There had to be a catch to this, something sinister in your plans, and although there was a little bit of nerves fluttering in his stomach, it was mostly excitement that had him on edge.

"Now... I know how desperate you are, and I am fully willing to let you do anything you want to me..."

In the pause, you noticed George was nodding feverishly, eyes wide open and tongue almost hanging out of his mouth like an excited dog as you spoke.

"... but you need to do something for me first. A challenge, if you will."

"Anything for you, love."

He winked and clicked his tongue, the sleazy smile widening across his face making your stomach coil up, arousal spreading through your body and warming you to the core.

"I want you to show some restraint."

"Re...straint?"

You laughed as he pretended not to recognise the word, but it wasn't far off from the true extent of his knowledge of the concept. Digger was a rampant fucker, feral, wild, like an untamed animal. When he wanted to rut, he would. It was rare to not have him grinding or humping against you out of lustful need, so the idea of him actively showing some self-control was appealing to you. A tease. A true show of his desires.

"Restraint, yes. If you can keep that little bell as quiet as possible then-"

He interrupted you, wiggling his hips so his semi-erect cock shifted from side to side, the bell tingling as he moved.

"Yeah... if you can keep that silent, then you'll get a reward. But you have to keep it very, very quiet."

"Piece of cake, love!"

He moved himself towards the sofa, settling down and spreading his arms along the back of it, watching you with a smug grin. But the longer you stared back, the more your smile contorted into something cruel, he realised he must have been missing something. Surely, it couldn't be as easy as that. Staying completely still would keep the bell from ringing, yeah, but there had to be-

His thoughts were halted, all reasonable logic and capabilities of lateral thinking gone as he watched you begin undressing. He wasn't worried about the bell now, or the challenge. he'd forgotten all about them, to be honest. It was almost immediate, the moment more of your skin was exposed, he forgot who he was, where he was, and what he was supposed to be doing.

But then, as you stepped out of your pants and lifted your shirt up, standing only in your bra and panties, he felt a stirring. A jolt from his abdomen to his crotch, the shaft of his cock swelling, veins pulsing, and then the tip twitching.

Then the little ring.

"Tut, tut, tut. Oh dear, George. That was quick. You've failed already. That's five minutes less of your reward."

His lip quivered, pouting out in disappointment. He didn't even know what the reward was, but he was heartbroken to learn that he was going to get less of whatever was coming to him.

"And it means that I get to punish you."

"I just felt my heart drop out of my arsehole, babe."

You'd produced a little riding crop. Nothing too big and scary, enough to leave a little welt on his skin where you decided to strike him. George could tolerate a substantial amount of pain. It was the embarrassment of whimpering that got to him, arousing and shameful. Which meant it would be even more difficult to keep the bell quiet, if every time you whipped him, his cock got stiffer.

The first strike against his thigh made him bite down hard on his lip, a pained but sultry whimper catching in his throat. Impressively, he managed to keep still. So you stepped it up a little bit, sitting down next to him on the couch and forgiving him the slight jingle as your weight moved him. Your fingers danced over his chest, tracing over the tattooed wings of the dove in the center, your head leaning in to rest against him, hearing his heart beating slightly faster than normal.

The affectionate kiss you placed against his skin was instinctual, not a part of your efforts to have him hot and bothered, but it had the same effect all the same. His heartbeat quickened, the gentle affection, the way your lips grazed over his nipple as you stretched them out to plant the peck on him, even that had him straining to keep his little decoration silent.

It wasn't enough though, clearly. He was managing to keep himself under control. And you couldn't have that.

There was a gentle tinkling as you stood up again, moving yourself in front of the sofa, George's eyes trained on you as you moved. His attention was only broken away as he followed the riding crop fall to the ground as you tossed it from you, requiring both hands for the next step.

You removed your bra, surprised by the silence when your top half was completely exposed. In fact, you would have to admit it was a little disappointing that seeing your tits hadn't aroused any kind of reaction from him. He was clearly trying his hardest now, but you knew you could get to him.

Sliding out of your panties, you turned around quickly before he could get a good look at you. But, in a move you could only describe as cruel, you bent over to retrieve the crop you had thrown to the ground, legs pressed tight together, your cunt visible between them, on display for him.

Still, there was very little noise. You could hear him choking on caught breath, however. And when you turned, body fully naked and facing him, you could see the veins in his neck protruding slightly with exertion.

"How much effort is it taking you to stop that monster from twitching, huh?"

The bell jingled, a tell tale sign that you were getting to him. The compliment was too good. Stroking his ego, a little bit of flattery to add to the painful teasing.

"Stand up so I can see you. I want to get a better look at it."

As he moved, the bell rang, continuing even after he was standing still, his completely erect cock bouncing and settling.

"That doesn't count, by the way!"

His attitude needed to be corrected, so you brought the crop down against his shaft, not too hard, but enough to sting, the accompanying tinkling sound so sweet in your ears.

"This is so fuckin embarrassing, babe. You couldn't have picked a bell with a manlier ring? I feel like a little lap dog."

"Aw, you are like a little puppy with a bell on his collar. A cute little tinkle for a cute little boy, huh?"

He was blushing, cheeks red from the embarrassment, but you could see that he was enjoying it. Precum had begun to seep from his head, a drip of it travelling down and collecting on the metal of his piercing and the curve of the bell.

"That'll dampen the sound, can't have that."

You reached down, running a finger over the surface of the bell, letting it drag slowly up across his tip before you brought it to your lips and licked it clean. George shuddered slightly, cringing when the bell rang once more. It pulled at your softer feelings for him, your sympathy for how desperate he was outweighing how badly you wanted to see him suffer.

"You're doing surprisingly well, George. And I am sorry for being such a tease, but it's just so cute to see you so flustered."

As you ran your fingers through his hair, you could hear a faint tinkling, realising that just praise along, sweet words for only him, were enough to turn him on. So you decided to let him off the hook.

"Ok, I'm going to end up with tinnitus at this rate, you've been a good enough boy."

The bell rang again, silenced by your palm as you took his length in your fist and tugged slightly, leading him through to the bedroom.

[verlaines-corner-archive]

can I get h, u , and z with fyodor?

Nsfw alphabet -> H, U, and Z with Fyodor

 -> Pretty boy

[H]air - Fyodor has a bit of hair down there, but it’s neat. 

Grooming isn’t something Fyodor particularly cares about but he does like to keep his own hair trimmed when possible. It’s thin, black much like the hair on his head, and he has a slight happy trail leading to his belly button.

In a partner Fyodor doesn’t like the clean shave look, finding it somewhat off putting. He’ll mention this preference once, but doesn’t press about it at all. Ultimately all that matters to him is hygiene and his partners comfort.

[U]nfair - Fyodor is very unfair in bed, a big fan of teasing you.

Fyodor has a particular fondness for edging you, watching your composure crumble until all you can do is beg for him to let you cum. The desperation in your voice and eyes as you squirm does wonders to his ego, and he’ll call you his good little thing as he continues messing with you. Don’t worry though, Fyodor never finishes a session without you having cum at least twice. 

Other reasons he’s a fan of edging you and overstimulating you is because it’s like an experiment to him. Fyodor, as we all know, has a keen interest in humans and their nature and it reflects here. Every time he pushes you further, seeing how much you can take until you’re reduced to base human urges, until it’s something primal. The other appeal is also the display of trust it is, letting yourself been seen like that and letting him be in control during it is almost heartwarming to Fyodor.

In the case of him subbing Fyodor can be rather bratty at times, though it’s actually not as common as you'd think. Being a brat and liking to be teased is somewhat weird with Fyodor, as both will only happen after a certain level of trust has been built up. The first few times he subs Fyodor is more closed off than anything, but once enough trust it changes into Fyodor being both willing to be bratty and willing to give in without any resistance. 

[Z]zz - Fyodor tends to fall asleep quickly after sex.

The first few times you two have sex especially, as Fyodor was a virgin before you and as such got tired a lot quicker than he would have otherwise. His anaemia also comes into play here, making it harder for him to stay awake after. It’s one of the main reasons he prefers having sex in bed. It’s cute, seeing him lazily curl up under the covers and pull you closer after. He’s big on pillow talk before sleeping, with most of it being random nonsense and playful teasing, along with the occasional confession of love.

Fyodor does try to stay awake long enough to provide aftercare too, but it’s not always a guarantee. If he can’t provide it to you straight after the session he will when he wakes up, even going as far to apologise about it and though it will come off as a little teasing it is genuine.

Now despite all this Fyodor, especially at first, is anxious about falling asleep together. He obviously trusts you but he is in a very vulnerable position - both mentally and physically - so much so that it’s unnerving to him. You just saw him bare, fully exposed, and as such there’s always some form of worry about hurt and betrayal. Fyodor won’t really mention this, though if you were to pull him close he may make a comment about being “exposed”, in which case the best option is to provide more physical comfort than verbal. Rub his back, hold his hand, so on. This is something that improves over time with the build up of trust and comfort, though the anxiety may never leave, at least not fully.

[gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan]

Starry Ceilings

Author’s note: More of Hura in Husbandry.

Summary: You give your wonderful, lovely hardworking Astartes Bonded a full Body Massage.

Warnings: Chaos Nurglite Death Guard. Hiding a pregnancy from your partner. Let me know if I need to add anything else.

Tagged: @barn-anon, @bleedingichorhearts, @c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @egrets-not-regrets, @kit-williams

Tagged: @sleepyfan-blog, @ms--lobotomy , @thevoidscreams, @i-am-a-dragon34, @gra93fruit-blog

Tagged: @felinisnoctis, @undeaddream

"Wear protection, stay safe, be smart about sex," Your mom had told you bluntly, "Your body, your choice, but if someone tries to force you into it. Yell. Make noise and get the fuck out of there. Unfortunately, our family is really fertile so, if you have sex and aren't safe about it you are likely to get pregnant fast."

You learned as you got older, that your mom had gotten pregnant with you and your twin sister young. And that man hadn't been the man who'd raised you and your younger brother and sister and sibling.

Your Grandmother, a lovely if sometimes bitchy old woman had grumbled about a Him and a That Bastard. And then glared at you and your twin sister and would be snide about how 'you and your sister are bastards, due to being made out of wedlock.'

Your mom had been upfront about how your biological father, whoever the fuck he was. Was not in your lives. And she was glad to be rid of him. You and your sister had seen the way that even talking about this mysterious Him would upset her.

How she'd blink back tears and look away. How she admitted to the two of you that the pair of you reminded her of him in different ways. Your twin sister has his temper. While you have his more... manipulative tendencies.

Which you weren't sure was a good thing. Also, your mom really didn't want to talk about Him. And that although she would, if you really wanted to know about Him. She would talk about Him. But only if you told her why you wanted to know about the Mysterious Him.

Honestly, you weren't surpised that you and your twin sister weren't bio kids of your stepdad. Your younger siblings looked a lot like him. Blonde haired, blue eyed, tall and much fairer skinned.

Also, your stepdad treated you and your sister differently, than he does your other siblings. He gives them more time, more attention, more money, more resources.

You shake your head, wondering why you are even thinking about all of this when, all you want to do is pamper Hura a little bit. Perhaps it's because of the baby swelling in your belly that the thoughts of parents and parenthood have such shit coming into your head.

Quite frankly, all that your mom was willing to tell you about Him was enough. And you didn't really care to know about more. Occasionally you wondered if you might have half siblings somewhere out in the world due to the Him that your mom had been with.

"I want to give you a massage." You tell Hura, after dinner today.

He blinks at you a little surprised, but his crooked grin fills your heart with warmth, "if that's what you want to do dear hear, then go ahead. How naked do you want me to be, darling~"

You blush up at him, "As naked as you are comfortable with. Mr. Hura."

You pout up at him, while sex is fun, and massage can lead into sexy fun times. You had felt the sudden urge to... well. Not be nest-y behavior. But to be close to your Bonded.

You have yet to tell him about the pregnancy. But- from what Cedric warned you, the hormonal change will be noticeable in your scent to your Bonded very soon.

And you are going to tell Hura. You really will. It's just. You thought you had been careful with taking your birth control, and other forms of protection.

Hura followed you up to his bedroom, it has the larger, sturdier bed and bed frame and he undresses as much as he can, with his armor partially fused to himself.

Also, you hadn't realized what with how... unusual Hura looked that he was fertile. You had heard from some others and through careful searching online that mostly Chaos Marines don't beget children on their humans that could carry babies usually.

Especially Death Guard. You keep your face the same as you ruefully remember what your mom had warned you about when you'd first gotten your period.

You grab some unscented lotion, partly because most scents seem to bother Hura, and also make your skin itch and sneeze. And start to warm up the lotion a little bit as you start working on rubbing the stress out of his armor.

He's so big, and so strong, helping you move his arms and legs this way and that as you continue to massage him. Making sure not to make your hands sore from rubbing too hard. Hura had said that you didn't have enough strength to hurt him. In a rather amused way when you'd asked about putting too much pressure on certain joints.

Once you finished rubbing him down with your hands, you ask Hura to flip over on his belly again. Which he does. part of your mind twinges and almost feels like breaking when you see certain parts of his body. You look away to make sure that your eyes don't glaze over and your head doesn't go fuzzy.

You start carefully stepping on his shoulders and back. Hearing cracking popping sounds. Hura groans in pleasure and lets you know where to continue to walk. He has started to purr, the deep, rumbling noise vibrates up from your feet all the way up to the crown of your head.

Once you finish the massage, you see the way Hura is all limp and relaxed and it makes you smile and giggle. You let out a play shriek when he moves faster than you can see and pulls you into a hug.

"I love you," Hura says to you adoringly.

"I love you two Hura," You say pressing a kiss to his face, which he eagerly responds to.