#who can inspire almost 2k words

[hhoneylemon]

‘cause i lo-lo-love the chase

summary: you finally kiss your best friend after burgers and slushies. he’s ecstatic. 2k words.

inspired by this song and post

mark is sick to his stomach.

he feels like a pervert. every time you hang out, he’s watching you. he watches the way your face lights up as you laugh, how you apply lip balm every now and then, the face you make when you focus on the show playing on the tv.

his crush on you is embarrassing. could he even call it a crush at this point? he’d throw himself in front of a car for you. you probably wouldn’t even feel special if he said that, he’d do that for any civilian to make sure they were safe. feelings suck.

is it enough that he waits when each seance dog episode comes out so he can watch it with you when you’re free? he stays off of social media until then, opting for going flying, studying extra, watching random shows he’s never heard of. the gritting feeling of want and anticipation are almost unbearable. note the word almost; the way you ask him to explain something to you, listening to his dorky ramble, the way you sit side-to-side with him on the couch while watching, the way you give truthful opinions about the episode you’d just watched with him. you make it all worth it.

he loves you. he realized he did a long time ago, then decided to hold that in him and ‘wait for the right time.’ he regrets that sentiment when he watches you go out with other guys, a harsh grip squeezing his heart just to throw it to the ground and stepping on it repeatedly.

at least the relationships never lasted. at least he was always there to pick you back up with a hug and the offer to watch a terrible movie to get over it. it’s never failed to work.

now, mark sits on your bedroom floor as he scribbles down the answers to your current homework assignment. you sit on your bed, hands thrown up as you complain about one of your teachers. he’s only half listening, trying to focus on the work to complete it.

“and she lost the paper, but somehow it’s my fault? now i’m knocked down a whole letter grade because she isn’t good at her job. i literally have a witness who saw me turn it in.”

mark nods in response, finishing his paper. he leans his head back onto your mattress, looking up at you. he offers a dopey grin. you offer a small smile in exchange before sliding off the bed and sitting beside him on the floor.

“sounds shitty. i hope you can do make up work to bring it up.”

“yeah.”

you murmur in response, grunting in annoyance. mark takes a moment to soak your image into his memory. the setting sun is casting a golden glow onto your skin, illuminating and shadowing the right parts of your face. he finds his mouth has gone dry.

“it’s almost dinnertime. you might wanna get home to your mom, mark.”

you twist to face him better, a kind warmth appearing on your face. he nods, almost disappointed. he grabs his school bag, standing with a little grunt of effort. you stand and follow him to your window, unlocking it for him as he slips into the straps of his bag. he smiles at you with a sickening sweetness.

“i’ll see you tomorrow, alright?”

you nod as he climbs out, watching him with quiet fondness. the way the soft breeze ruffles his hair has you in a chokehold, the puppy-like look on his face as he debates leaving or staying longer in his mind. he hovers off of your room, feet kicked behind his thighs as he looks at you.

“yeah. burger mart, right?”

he grins, nodding. the way his eyes crinkle at the corners has your heart beating a little faster. 

“yep, sounds good. bye!”

mark takes off into the sky. you watch him until you’ve lost sight of him. that’s when you close and lock your window, sitting on your bed and pulling out your phone while waiting until you hear your mom calling you to come eat dinner.

( ´ ▽ ` ).｡ｏ♡

mark hates his life.

he kept you waiting! he got sidetracked stopping a bank shooting as invincible. he was twenty minutes late as he jogged into burger mart, scanning the tables to try and find you.

you sat alone in a booth in the far corner, sipping on a slushy. he slides into the seat across from you, offering an apologetic look.

“sorry, i was superhero-ing.”

“all good.”

you grin, biting at your bottom lip. a few chuckles escape you as you point at him.

“your, uh, shirt is backwards.”

mark looks down. the pattern of his tee was missing, not to mention the tag sticking out of his collar. he sighs, ears turning red in embarrassment. he then struggles with sliding his arms into his sleeves and turning the shirt around, fixing it. you smile in amusement the whole time, holding back a laugh. he was cute. and a loser.

“ugh. whatever. what do you want to eat, i’ll pay for it.”

your eyes widen at his words, shaking your head.

“you don’t have to, it’s okay.”

you begin standing, only for him to hold up a hand. he rises to his feet and shimmies out of the booth, already pulling his wallet from his back pocket.

“no, it’s okay. i don’t mind, really.”

you nibble on your bottom lip, but give in anyways. you tell mark your usual order and he walks to the counter to order. he comes back in a few minutes, an exasperated look on his face.

“i’m so glad i don’t work here anymore. the cashier looked like her life was sucked outta her. i know the feeling.”

you laugh in response, relaxing into the booth. you forgot what it was like to hang out with mark.  it was like a warm hug; comforting and safe, you could tell him anything and he would only mildly judge you, then he would offer terrible advice after.

one of the employees beings over a paper bag that contained your food. the two of you spend a long time chatting in the booth, long after you finish eating. mark only ushers you out after he noticed his old manager had clocked in.

“i wasn’t done my slushy.”

you complain, walking beside him down the street. he offers an apologetic smile.

“we can get one from somewhere else. there’s a 7/11 a few blocks down?”

“sounds good.”

he nods, the two of you falling back into a comfortable silence. you travel downtown, finding the 24 hour store that hides with a few unused buildings. a nail salon sits beside it, currently closed after a villain was thrown through one of the walls. across the street is a parking garage, presumably for the places people work at down the block.

mark grabs your wrist, pulling you into the 7/11 with a laugh.

“what’s so interesting about the parking garage? you scared tether tyrant is hiding in there?”

you playfully roll your eyes, following him to the slushy machine. the blue raspberry is out of order, as always. the revelation makes mark groan and clutch his forehead, as if his two other favorite flavors aren’t in stock.

you grab a medium cup and reach for your favorite flavor, causing his nose to shrivel.

“be adventurous. get the root beer, it’s so good. trust.”

“i will not trust, mark.”

you laugh at him, filling the cup halfway. just to make him smile, you fill the other half with root beer. you get the desired outcome, mark’s face housing a gentle smile as he reaches for his own cup to fill.

when you got to the cashier, he cheated. he murmured something about tether tyrant in the parking garage—of course you looked outside, nervous, as though a superhero wasn’t standing right beside you. you looked back to berate him for tricking you, just to see he’s already paid.

he walks you outside with a grin, sipping from his slushy. you reach over and nudge his shoulder with your own, rolling your eyes. 

“you’re insufferably a gentleman.”

he raises an eyebrow, a his grin turning teasing.

“such big words coming from you.”

you groan and massage your temples with your free hand. he’s such a dork.

the two of you lean against the wall of the 7/11, making small talk as you sip from your slushies. he had gotten mountain dew and cherry, his other two favorites. they stained his tongue a weird shade when he sticks it out at you after you poke fun of him. you smile weakly in turn.

maybe this would be your end. the sunset illuminating his features, him animatedly talking about who knows what, smelling like citrus and mint and something so incredibly mark.

you nervously fiddle with the pockets of your pants as you walk to the nearby trashcan. you throw your cup away before mark’s right at your side, throwing his away as well. his mouth is still moving, though you’ve long lost what he’s been saying. the two of you walk into the parking lot while he continues talking, and them he smiles.

oh, it’s devastating. your heart stutters in your chest. your brain stops working. you do something stupid.

your hands find his cheeks. his eyes widen and his mouth finally stops moving, his cheeks turning pink. you pull him close and your lips meet.

it’s slow, soft. his lips are cold from the slushy. he tastes like mountain dew and cherries. you feel him move, so you open your eyes and part your guys’ lips. mark’s eyes open in confusion, only to widen when you begin laughing.

“oh, mark.”

he’s confused. but, oh, are you shorter than usual? he looks closer and—he’s not even on the ground. his entire face flushes as he touches back down, hands gently resting on your hips.

“god, that’s embarrassing.”

“do i kiss that good? you gonna fly away if i do it again, fly boy?”

he averts his gaze for a moment, shutting his eyes. he can’t believe you’re bullying him over this—

“do it again?”

his eyes fly open and he turns to look at you. your own eyes widen in response, a tad of uncertainty appearing in your eyes and creeping around in your brain.

“shit, sorry. i won’t do it again, sorry, i just—“

mark leans in, lips pressing softly to yours. he gently sighs against you, savoring the flavor of you. he loves root beer.

he pulls away when he needs air, eyes fluttering open to take in the sight of you. you’re beautiful. he smiles big, happiness radiating off of him in waves.

“i can walk you home now.”

“alright.”

you walk beside him, walking the few blocks to get back to your house. he walks you all the way up to tour door before stopping you, grabbing you by the wrist. he offers a gentle smile.

“hey. i hope this means something. like—i can take you out soon?”

a smile hints at your lips. you nod, arms wrapping around his neck.

“sounds good.”

mark leans in and kisses you for a third time that night. this time, his lips can’t help but form a smile. he can’t help if he lifts off the ground again, either. he also can’t help that he brought you up with him, slowly spinning the two of you together.

he drops back down, thumbs gently rubbing against the flesh of your hips. his forehead finds yours as he bites his bottom lip.

“same time on friday?”

you snort, fingers playing with the hairs at the nape of his neck.

“sure thing, fly boy.”

masterlist

[uramakimochi]

CAKE REVEAL

James Potter x Reader

SUMMARY: You make a cake for your gender reveal to surprise your husband but it doesn't go as planned. (2k words)

WARNINGS: inspired by Alyssa Joy's gender reveal tiktok, FEM!R but no use of Y/N, husband!James, fluff + comfort, R cries a bit but because she's pregnant. Sorry if the ending sucks, i was tired but i wanted to post this once and for all lol.

English is not my first language so feel free to correct me.

You had the perfect idea for your gender reveal. You had already discovered the sex of your firstborn but you wanted to surprise James, knowing his somewhat childish side and knowing that he would definitely love that kind of surprise.

So, after preparing everything you needed, you and James left the house to have a nice intimate picnic in the open air. After finding a place under the shade of a tree, you spread the blanket along the lawn and ate your lunch, enjoying the breeze that passed through your hair and the scent of the flowers on the grass that entered your nostrils.

"I have to enjoy these moments with you while i still can" James said in an almost melancholy tone, staring up at you as he lay in your lap. "When Baby Potter will be with us we won't have time to be alone like now"

You looked down at him stroking his soft, unruly locks to move them away from his forehead.

"Do you think it's a boy or a girl?" you curiously asked him.

Your husband remained with his eyes closed, enjoying the touch of your fingers in his hair as his lips curved upwards.

"To be honest, i've got no clue" he said and you smiled in amusement. "I mean, the probability is 50/50. But since you told me that you feel them kicking a lot, it seems to be a boy. A little warrior"

While your heart was pounding in your chest, you managed to keep yourself from ruining the surprise, wanting to wait a little longer before telling him everything.

"What would you like it to be?" you asked him again.

James opened his eyes, staring into yours, while you continued to caress him. And just before answering you saw his smile widen even more, as his eyes began to shine in the sunlight.

"I would really like it to be a boy. A little man with whom i can share the same passions as me, who i can teach to play Quidditch and who is a little troublemaker like me. My little partner in crime"

You moved a hand from his hair to his face to gently pinch his cheek, tugging lightly.

"Hey, i already have a James Potter to handle" you replied with a smirk. "I don't need another one who copies everything his father does"

But James took your hand from his cheek and after bringing it to his lips he kissed the knuckles softly, humming against your skin.

"If we have a boy then i know for sure that he'll be a mama's boy and that he'll love you more than anything, just like his father"

You smiled softly, your cheeks warm and your heart flipping. No matter how many years passed, James would always manage to win you over with his words, in his intent to make you feel like a schoolgirl dealing with her first crush.

"But..." he then sighed, moving his gaze upwards, between the branches of the trees that covered his view of the blue sky. "The idea of having a sweet little girl, identical to you, that i could cuddle and spoil like a princess... That would be my dream too"

He had a dreamy look in his eyes by just thinking about having a little girl and that made your heart melt.

Oh, how you loved him. He would be a wonderful father, you were sure of it. Your child wasn't born yet and you already wanted to give him another one. In fact, you wanted to give him all the children he wanted. Damn pregnancy hormones!

You leaned towards his face to give him a long kiss on his forehead, to which he closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of your soft lips on his skin. When you pulled away you looked at him lovingly.

"Well, if we have a little girl then i know she'll be crazy about you. Just like her mother"

James smiled back at hearing you say his own words and he raised himself on his elbows to sit up and gave you a kiss on the lips, while you cupped his face in your hands, pulling him towards you. Then you pulled away, but he gave you another kiss. And another. And another one again.

You giggled, placing your hand on his lips to stop him.

"You are insatiable James Potter. We haven't had dessert yet"

But he kissed your palm, then took your hand and lowered it. Before you could stop him again, he leaned forward to place a series of kisses from your neck to your cheek.

"Mh, don't get me wrong my love, i love your cooking, but frankly right now i'm craving another kind of dessert" he said with a smirk.

You didn't look at him shocked, used to his dirty jokes, but you simply tilted your head and smirked.

That was the perfect moment.

"Really? Not even when this dessert could tell you if we're having a boy or a girl?"

James stopped and pulled away to look back at you, this time confused.

"What do you mean?"

You smiled excitedly, looking forward to showing him what you had done. You turned to grab the two glass goblets you had used to drink and handed him his. Then you took the cake you had prepared, which was completely covered on the outside and decorated with some blueberries and strawberries, and placed it in front of your legs.

"While i was making the cake i colored the dough with the color of the baby's gender" you explained to him and he looked at you surprised.

"So you already know everything?" he then asked you with a small pout and you gave him a small kiss on the nose.

"Sorry honey. But i wanted to surprise you. I can't wait to see your reaction!" James then glanced at the goblet he still held in his hand.

"And what am i supposed to do with this?"

"We dig it into the cake to get our portions and see what color it is on the inside. What do you think??"

James frowned.

"Why can't we cut it into slices like normal people do?" he asked you amusedly and you gave him a fake offended look.

"Aw come on, it's more fun this way okay?"

James let out a small sigh and shrugged his shoulders, but then a wide smile spread across his lips and he gripped the glass between his fingers, looking forward to knowing the result.

"Ready?" you asked and he nodded frantically, his hands shaking. "3, 2, 1..."

You sank the glasses into the cake at the same time and when you were sure you had taken the piece of cake you lifted them to look. But when you saw the color of the cake your heart skipped a beat.

James glanced at you as his smile went from excited to uncertain.

"Green?"

You took a good look at the cake in your glass and then at the rest of the cake, noticing that the inside of it was indeed completely green. Oh no. What had happened?

"I-It's not supposed to be green" you murmured, but your smile began to falter.

James made a confused, but still amused expression.

"Well, it sure is colorful" he said, trying to lighten the mood as he looked from the cake to you. "Right?"

You nodded with a pout and placed the glass on the blanket as your lips began to quiver. And before you could hold them back, tears began to fall from your eyes.

"Oh darling" James cooed, placing his glass on the ground and sliding closer to you. "Hey, hey..."

You sniffled, trying to wipe the tears off your face, but they continued to fall down your cheeks. It was so stupid to cry over something like that, but it was stronger than you. Damn pregnancy hormones. Again.

James wrapped his strong arms around your body and held you against his, making you cry into his shoulder as he rubbed your back.

"It's okay, honey. It's okay"

"I-I swear it wasn’t green when i made it" you sobbed, rubbing your cheek against his sweater. "I'm sorry i r-ruined the surprise Jamie"

"You didn't ruin anything, it's not your fault" he murmured, turning his head to give you a couple of kisses on the temple. "You know, sometimes cakes just turn out green. These things happen. Nothing bad about it. I love green!"

And you giggled, despite the disappointment you felt in yourself, appreciating as always his attempts to make you laugh to comfort you. Typical of James Potter.

"I t-tried my best..." you sniffled again, squeezing your eyes.

"Aw i'm sure you did, lovely girl. It looks delicious"

James continued to try to comfort you for a few minutes, rocking your bodies until your sobs subsided. And as he continued to cuddle you, with his gaze fixed on the cake, an idea suddenly came to him.

"Hey, i have an idea to surprise me again" he said, making you (reluctantly) move away from his warmth so you could look him in the eyes. "But first let's dry these tears from your pretty face, hm?"

He placed his large hands on your cheeks and gently ran his thumbs under your eyes, wiping them clean of the last of the salty tears that had leaked from your now reddish eyes.

"Nothing is lost, okay? How about-" he began, as the same enthusiasm from before began to take over his body again.

One of the things you loved most about James? That he never gave up, on anything. And he would have done anything to be able to see the smile grow on your lips.

"-We use the fruit? I'll turn around and you choose what i'm going to eat. A blueberry if it's a boy or a strawberry if it's a girl"

"A strawberry, yes" you murmured, finishing along with him. "Okay. That's perfect Jamie"

"Yeah?"

"Yeah" you nodded, smiling weakly, still sad but relieved that in a short time he had managed to come up with another creative idea.

James quickly turned away from you and you took the fruit from the cake into your hand, then closed it in your fist to hide it.

"You can turn around" you called.

James rolled over with a hand covering his eyes and opened his mouth. You gently placed the fruit on his tongue and as soon as he closed his mouth to taste it, he removed his hand to look at you with wide eyes.

"We're having a boy??"

You nodded happily and he took your hands in his as he looked at you more excited than before.

"You're kidding, right?? Are we having a boy??"

"I'm not kidding James" you giggled, shaking your head.

James threw himself on top of you, holding you tighter in his arms again than before, as you felt his body vibrate with pure joy. "Oh my god i can't believe it! A boy!"

You returned the hug, as much as you could and then James pulled away, looking at you with a bright smile that seemed to reach all the way to his forehead from how big it was.

"I'm so happy i could just-"

And he leaned in to give you a quick kiss on the lips, catching you off guard, but you immediately kissed him back.

"I can't wait to tell the boys!" he exclaimed frantically as soon as he pulled away, his fingers continuing to gently caress yours. "Oh, i'm already ready to fight for your attention. Because i know for a fact that after he comes he won't leave his mommy alone even for a second"

You giggled, tilting your head and looking at him tenderly. "Both of my boys will have my attention, no need to fight"

James smiled triumphantly and pulled your hands to bring you closer to him again so you could rest your head on his chest.

"I love you so soo much, my dear" he murmured, resting his head also on top of yours, rubbing his cheek against your hair. "I know it's not my birthday but you gave me the best present ever, you know?"

"I love you too Jamie. So much"

And just because the cake you made was a different color than the one you wanted, it doesn't mean it wasn't good. You and James ate it with gusto to celebrate the future arrival of your son.

[spencerreidenjoyer]

love bites | spencer reid x reader

word count: 2k, rating: 18+/explicit

tags: established relationship, hickeys, cunnilingus, vaginal sex, overstimulation

a/n: hello again... i'm back with another pwp fic... idk where this came from ngl, but i sort of ran away with this idea of spencer leaving hickeys and this happened lol. also i've been having chip taylor (mgg's character in 68 kill, a guy who has the biggest, wettest eyes and fucks like a madman) on the brain lately so this is definitely inspired by him too ❤️

(p.s: you can also find this fic on ao3!)

Spencer always wants to give you everything you want. He’s eager to please, with those wide puppy-dog eyes that stare up at you, that gaze that makes your insides warm, the tension between you two that makes you want to spread your legs. Not like you would put up a fight anyway.

He was already such a sweetheart on the date you just came home from, a nice dinner at a nice restaurant. Spencer was a proper gentleman, who was playing footsie with you under the table. You’d wanted to jump his bones the moment you’d left the restaurant. You hoped Spencer would get the hint, from the way you were tracing circles with your fingers onto his thighs on the drive back to his place.

“Baby,” you hum, while Spencer kisses down your neck. He always treats you like a princess, makes you feel so revered.

Sometimes, he loses himself in making you feel good. You have to call his name again – “Spencer–!” you say, in a whimper, before he responds.

“Hmm?”

“Are you leaving marks?” You ask. You feel a little conscious about it, because having to wear a turtleneck to work in the summer heat is definitely funny, but kind of embarrassing.

Spencer’s lips pause against your neck. He murmurs, “Do you want me to?” and you feel his warm breath on your skin as he says it. Your hair stands on end, your body reacting to how close Spencer is to you.

Spencer pulls away, and you mourn the loss of his warmth for a moment. He looks at you, the hazel of his eyes so deep and sweet that you feel like you could lose yourself in them. “Then I can leave them in places that you don’t have to worry about.”

“What? Where?” You ask, but your mind starts running already. His lips on your body. His gaze, scorching as he stares up at you.

He doesn’t give a verbal response, rather lets his hands fall to your waist and slips his thumbs under the waist-cutouts of your dress. Where the tips of his fingers touch your skin, you feel like you’re burning with desire already. Spencer asks, “Can I?”

“Please.” Your voice comes out breathier than you’d like.

Spencer pushes your dress up, revealing your thighs, your stomach. His fingers skirt over your skin softly, the touch almost ticklish. The dress goes up, up, up, until Spencer helps you tug it over your head. Even with the sweet gesture, him getting you undressed is making you flush, the attention he gives you and the lust in his gaze making your stomach flip.

Spencer’s lips find their way back to your neck. You hold your breath as he kisses his way down the column of your neck, taking his time. He kisses your collarbone, then the top of your breast. He nips the skin between his teeth.

“Someone’s bitey,” you gasp, trying to joke.

“Did you know that while the Brits call hickeys ‘love bites’ , you don’t actually need to bite to break the superficial blood vessels under the skin’s surface? Suction is often sufficient to cause bruising.” Spencer murmurs, as if the fun fact is absolutely necessary to him giving you a hickey on your breast. It’s cute to you, though. It kind of turns you on.

“‘Love bites’ are a cute name for hickeys, though.” You laugh. “And sucking… Isn’t that kind of gross?”

Spencer’s eyes flit up to meet yours. “I think it’s hot… I mean, being so desperate to mark you up, that I can’t control myself. Being willing to do anything to make it known that you’re mine.”

Arousal washes over you. “Jesus Christ, Spencer.”

He surges forward to kiss you, slow and languid and kind of sloppy. Still, you can feel the desperation behind his movements, his eagerness as he basically eats your face off. Spencer pulls back panting, eyes studying your face, your shirtless figure, your breasts in your bra. He stares greedily. You’re wet between your legs already.

Spencer dips his head down to press his lips to where your breast spills out of the cup of your bra, flicking his tongue over a spot he’s chosen. His front teeth graze over your skin gently. Spencer nips the skin between his teeth, sucking softly. It makes your hair stand on end – the wet sounds coming from his mouth, the heat of his breath on your skin, the slow but pleasurable twinge of pain that sinks in when he sucks a mark into your breast.

It’s erotic, the way your hand is tangled in Spencer’s hair, holding him close to you as he continues to mark up your chest with his mouth. Spencer’s hair is so soft between your fingers, slightly messy and curling at the ends. He’d moved on to mark up your other breast, his large hand cupping you perfectly, like you were made for him.

Spencer litters hickeys all over you, on your tits, your stomach, and he kisses along the waistband of your panties when he gets to them. You only have to whimper to get him to slide them off as well. He kisses your hip bone, while his hand on your other side feels you up. You feel Spencer slide his hand from the swell of your ass, to feeling the meat of your thigh, before his hand comes around and pushes your leg out to spread your legs.

“Babe,” you moan, as Spencer bites down gently on your plushy inner thigh. His tongue laps over where he had bitten, acting to soothe you from any pain, and he sucks a mark into your thigh. You see the marks of his teeth and the redness of the spot, the beginnings of a bruise. He moves over to your other thigh to give you another mark, then his lips trace their way closer to the heat between your legs, giving you more marks on the way up.

You gasp when he presses a kiss to your clit, your wetness extremely obvious to you now as he blows cool air to tease you. You shiver. Spencer laughs, “Needy. You’re so wet.”

“Because of you, baby,” you sigh, running your hand through his hair to push it back, letting you admire his gorgeous bone structure and those wide eyes of his. “Need you.”

Spencer hums, smiling to himself, as he settles himself between your spread legs. His hand comes up to your heat, two fingers spreading your lips before he leans in, licking a fat stripe up across your hole, to your clit. You moan shakily as he flicks at your clit, playing with you, the tip of his sharp tongue making pleasure jolt through your body.

You let out a sigh when he presses his face deeper because you didn’t think he could get any closer, and you feel his mouth on your cunt– slurping, licking, breathing heavily as he eats you out fervently. He gives you head like he was born to do it. The way he pleasures you makes your head spin, amidst all the slick, wet noises, and Spencer’s own eagerness to make you feel good.

You lock eyes with Spencer, his piercing gaze meeting yours from between your tits. It’s almost funny, but you’re too turned on to even joke about it. You tighten your grasp in his hair. He whimpers, a sound you never get tired of hearing, and the vibrations to your cunt make you shiver.

You want him in you, now. You tell him that. Spencer pulls away, his wide eyes seeming dark and serious.

He wipes his mouth and chin with the back of his hand, shiny with your slick and fluids. You watch the pink of his tongue dart out as he licks his lips. You whimper a little as he gets onto his knees between your spread legs, his nice button-up, slacks and boxers off and on the floor. You admire the smooth lines of his body, the softness of his stomach, his happy trail leading down to where he’s hard and leaking into his hand.

There are no words exchanged, just a knowing glance that tells Spencer to hurry and do it. Spencer’s always been good at following instructions, and he knows you and your likes like the back of his hand. You know he always wants to please.

One hand on your hip, Spencer’s other hand guides his cock to your hole. He teases the head of his cock over your clit, circling over your entrance. You can only imagine how wet and sticky you are down there, with Spencer’s cock making you even more of a mess.

He puts the head in, watches intently as he slides in, and you look up at Spencer, breathing hard. He stops for a moment and begins to pull out, only the tip inside of you. He’s such an ass. You glare at him. Spencer grins cheekily.

“Spencer–” His name leaves your lips brokenly as he suddenly presses himself deeper, in, in, in, until his cock is bottoming out and you feel so incredibly full. “Fuck me.”

Spencer grunts, eyebrows furrowed as he starts fucking into you. He goes hard and fast, knowing that’s how you like it: his skin slapping against yours, the slick sounds of his cock pounding into your hole downright obscene. Even while you shake from the force he’s putting into fucking you, Spencer’s face reads like he’s trying hard to keep it together, trying to concentrate on making you feel as good as he feels.

His mouth falls open as he grips the headboard, fucking you relentlessly. You hold onto his biceps for dear life, close to screaming as he rails you. Spencer moans, as your fingernails dig into his arms in your desperate need, “Fuck, you feel so good. So tight, angel. All wet for me.”

“Spencer, fuck, oh my God–!” You cry out, helpless, horny, feeling like you’re in heaven as Spencer fucks you just how you want, just how you need. His cock hits all the right places, deep inside of you, fucking you open like you’re made for him.

And then, your orgasm hits you like a tidal wave, your body jolting with the pleasure that overtakes you. It’s so good, Spencer ramming into you till the overstimulation starts to sting, pleasure tinged with pain around the edges, and your clenching and writhing has Spencer pushed over the edge as well, his head dropping between his shoulders as he comes with a groan, loud and whiny, his load spilling inside of you.

You’re both breathing hard, but your eyes meet his, and you share a small smile. Spencer has paused, cock softening inside of you, and he kisses you softly. You taste yourself on his lips. You don’t care, and kiss him back. Both of you giggle when you pull away.

One of Spencer’s hands falls from the headboard to your body, his fingers gentle as they skirt over your curves, a sharp contrast to the way he was fucking you just moments ago. His hand slides over your breast, your stomach, your thighs – thumbing over the marks he’d left behind. Spencer presses down on one on your inner thigh. You moan as he grabs the meat of your thigh eagerly. He chuckles, pressing a kiss to your knee.

“I love you,” you giggle softly, feeling like you got your brains fucked out. “You’re too sweet to me.”

“Why wouldn’t I be sweet to you, darling?” Spencer answers softly as he leans in, kissing your jaw gently. Your cheeks feel warm. “I love you too. Let me clean you up.”

You hum softly, laying back while Spencer gets up. You watch as Spencer, even more gorgeous in his post-orgasmic glow, grabs a small towel and slips onto the bathroom. He emerges quickly enough, the towel now damp, and slides back into bed next to you.

Spencer glances down at where you’re wet and messy. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, mind clearly busy, and asks, “Wanna let me finger you before we really go and get clean?”

You let out a laugh, and after a moment’s pause: “Yeah, okay."

[fluerchive]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤ ★ㅤㅤi love you, im sorry ㅤ ࣪˖ ִ𐙚

summary. two oblivious friends and the 3 words left unspoken.

aka inspired from the prompt “you’ve been talking about this crush for months now, when are you going to just go for it?” “i don’t think i can…” by @novelbear

pairing. jake x f!readerㅤ

wc. 2k

genre. fluff , crush to friends to lovers , college au , (mutual?)pining , jake is just dumb , hee is a brat(affectionate) , jealousy(??) , apparent one sided crush

warnings. profanity , not proof read , crusty aah writing , fries dipped in coke , drinking (like once)

notes. hi this is my first work on this account and i havent written anything in almost a year lmao so pls bear w me :"3 this was a word vomit and i have no idea what i yapped in the ending so :D!? happy reading ^0^

‘So, how’s it going with him?’ Jake asks as he places his lunch tray beside yours at the college cafeteria. You look up from your phone to meet his hopeful eyes, ‘who…?’ ‘Omg, Y/N, your crush!? You’ve been talking about this crush for months now, when are you going to just go for it?’

You almost choke on your coffee, from when did Jake have such an interest in your so-called crush. The “mystery guy” as your friend group likes to call him. Little did they know that the boy in question was sitting right beside you and yeah, it wouldn’t be the wisest decision to let that out.

‘I… don’t think I can’, you answered hesitantly, that was the closest to the truth you could give Jake and you hated lying to your friend, especially when feelings were involved, feelings involving… him.

Maybe if you weren’t so close with him, it would have been easier to handle the overwhelming urge to confess to him, hold his hand and softly kiss his cheek. But life was definitely playing a cruel joke on you when your small hallway crush turned out to be your seatmate in freshman year, two years ago.

It was almost impossible not to be friends with Jake from then on. You found yourself talking to each other in class, which eventually led to exchanging numbers and the rest was history. He had this inborn kindness in him, which perfectly complemented his pretty face, the happiness that radiated off him was quite infectious. And with each day that you got to know him, you fell a little more in love with him.

'C'mon Y/N, it's worth a try plus most chances are he'd like you back, right?' you dont, Jake. 'Plus, I'm always here in case of any help. I know our friends may keep making jokes on it but I totally understand you', he ends with a small shy smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes, you don't know why.

But you want to scream at his face STOP! Stop making it so hard for me to move on, Jake. Instead you return his smile, or at least you try, before quickly stuffing your face with your lunch, making it impossible for him to continue the previous conversation. Talk about healthy coping mechanisms...?

The slip up had just been a drunken mistake. It was one of those stupid drinking games Yunjin had roped you into and soon enough, you were mildly intoxicated or just way too lovesick to admit to your crush. You couldn't ignore the bitterness in your stomach every time a girl approached Jake at the party.

‘Okay, Y/N, drink up if you like someone present here’, Sunghoon passed you a mischievous smirk, which oddly enraged you, or maybe it was the alcohol already in your system. Before you knew it, you were drowning down the cup in your hand, gripping it tightly as if that’ll give you an ounce of strength. You gave one glimpse at Jake who had a concerned expression on his face.

Someone else, probably Yunjin, excitedly asked, ‘Omg who?! And how do I not know?’

Since then it has been a challenge in your friend group to “search” for him if they ever felt bored. You wonder who else can ever attract such an unemployed friend group, it is honestly a bit funny to see them try.

Your train of thoughts is broken when you feel someone sitting beside you, it’s Heeseung. ‘You know, staring at him from afar won’t do any good’, he shrugs. Alarmed, you look at him motioning towards where Jake is currently playing on the football field. You often find yourself sitting at the bleachers, after class waiting for him.

‘Hey! What d-do you mean?!’ you sputter, totally caught off guard at his words. How does Heeseung even know? No, how can he even get the slightest idea that you like Jake? You thought your masking skills were actually pretty good.

The boy gave you a small chuckle, 'you really think you are very sneaky and nonchalant about your crush don’t you? I’m surprised how our friends and even Jake haven't caught up to it.’

This little shit. You hit him with one of your books. ‘Woah, stop, at least I haven’t exposed you in front of them!’ He raises his hands in defense.

Well, he does have a point. He could have won whatever bet your friends had going on you, but he didn’t. ‘Okay, fine, thank you Heeseung for your kind gracious favour’, you roll your eyes at him. ‘That’s more like it, brat.’ You stick out your tongue in return.

You rest your back on the bench, your eyes naturally following the brunette as he scores another goal, a small smile tugging at your face. ‘But in all honesty, I think there’s a hole on Jake’s back with the entire staring contest you have going on.’ ‘fuck off if you can’t help.’

Heeseung sighs, ‘the only advice for this is for you to confess, a relationship isn't gonna form itself.’ ‘He’s my friend, do you see everything on the line?’ ‘And do you see that he could possibly like you back?’ he raises his eyebrows.

Yeah, the false hope, being delusional did not seem like a fun choice right now. You would have pushed Heeseung out of the bleachers if it weren’t for Jake running towards both of you, a weird look on his face, ‘Why are my two friends strangling each other?’ he yells over the stands. Heeseung ruffles your hair, ‘Friendly banter! By the way, you two want to grab dinner with me? His practice is almost over too.’

Something in your gut tells you that Heeseung may be up to no good and the shit eating grin that follows his requests, probably confirms your suspicions.

But Jake beats you to the reply, ‘Of course, I’m kinda starving. I need my extra fries.’

Something shifts in the air once the three of you are out of the campus. For starters, Heeseung finds it very funny to annoy you and Jake has this distant look on his face from earlier. He’s also very quiet and Jake is never silent, especially with Heeseung.

Once you enter the restaurant, you and Jake take your places in a corner booth. You sit across from him. ‘Hey, was everything okay at uni? You seem down.’ He finally makes eye contact with you, you have no idea why he refused to meet your eyes before, ‘Yes, Y/N, just a little tired.’ He retreats back to his previous positions.

You nod, not convinced with his explanation when a thought comes up. Did he… hear you both?! Nonono, he can’t! You’ll be beyond cooked and losing a close friend must not be a nice feeling. Yeah, he most definitely did but you cannot lose your shit in public so you try distracting yourself. You nervously look around, hoping for Heeseung, who was at the counter, to finally come and break the silence.

Goodness, this thick uncomfortable silence or is it the greasy smell of fast food oil? No, it is definitely the silence between the both of you which is really unheard of in your relation.

You finally see a figure approaching, balancing the three orders, and a small grin on his face. ‘Here we go, people.’ he takes a seat beside you and Heeseung doesn’t miss the subtle change in Jake’s expression, smirking at the latter.

‘Omg, Y/N, you should try the fries dipped in coke.’ ‘you are fucking disgusting, Lee Heeseung, get away from me’, you scrunch your nose in disgust but not before the boy pushes some soaked fries at your direction, making you gag.

Seeing the exchange, Jake hastily picks up the fry, removing it, and instead replacing it with his normal, not soaked in coke fries. The insult you were about to hurl at Heeseung dies in your throat, looking up at the boy who is back to quietly eating his burger.

What has gotten into him?

'I'm so full', Heeseung stretches walking out of the place into the cool night air. 'Ok then, see yall later, I'll head this way', nodding his head. You bid him goodbye when he mouthes something you're unsure of. go. for. it. before giving sly smirk and walking off.

You stand confused in your place, and realize that Jake has been silent for so long. You turn around to see him already walking down the footpath. You sigh deeply, tired with his weird actions before catching up to him.

'Yah Jake hold up!' he hears your voice call out behind him, stopping on his tracks. You stop your jog, slightly catching your breath. 'No why the hell am I chasing you in the middle of the road? Please drop this act.'

He turns around abruptly, face to face with you and you realize the distance between the both of you, your heart picking up its pace. Jake's face is unreadable, his eyes are closed off and expresionless. You are about to ask another question when he– 'Is Heeseung the one you like?' His eyes seem dead set. Despite yourself, you can't help but break into a chuckle.

Were you reading the situation right? 'Help what?! Not that dumbass, hell no. You know for someone as smart as you, you really are oblivious.' And it all starts to click in, Jake's rough behavior, his distant stares, and the glares he was throwing at Heeseung.

'Are you... jealous?' You ask, trying to peer into his eyes for something... anything. Jake shakes his head, raking a hand through his hair, 'It's no problem if you date him obviously, he's good guy, plus I think you look really cute together and I want the best–' 'I like you', you blurt out in middle of Jake's long ramble, freezing in your place.

Did you just–?! No how did you mouth even speak without coordinating with your brain? Your eyes widening in shock, Jake's expression is pretty much the same (oh here goes your friendship) before you see the shift in his face. Shock slowly giving way to a more shy face.

'What...?' 'Um, sorry, I messed it up so bad didn't I?' You may as well confess now that he knows. 'I... have liked you for the longest time, Sim Jaehyun and it is not easy to hide all these feelings when you're standing right here. I know I'll probably mess up our entire friendship but I can't lose you.'

there. here comes the rejection. you shuffle in your feet, resisting the urge to dash in the opposite direction. 'Is this real?' he says instead.

You look up to face him and his face has broken into a bright smile, and suddenly it's hard for you to breath because why are you seeing your crush beaming at you when you just confessed your feelings.

Suddenly you feel a pair of lips on yours, catching you off guard. Oh this cannot be happening. You melt into the kiss immediately, reveling at the feeling. Your rapid heartbeat has stilled, almost in tandem with his.

This kiss is short lived but it leaves you feeling breathless. 'Are we seriously this dumb? I... I like you too', Jake's the one to break the silence, placing a hand on your cheek.

You feel a small flower bloom in your chest at his words. He tugs at your hands, pulling you close, into a hug.

Resting your face at the crook of his neck, you mutter, 'We're in the middle of the road, we should move.' Although the lanes were empty, save for a few passing cars.

'I know but I like it here', Jake says softly and you can almost see the pout forming. Yeah you'd stay this way forever if it meant never letting him go.

reblogs and feedbacks are appreciated :D

work belongs to @ rainytapestry don't steal

[sevgilimsatoru]

Error: 410 (Self Aware!AU Caleb Edition) Part 13

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 14 Part 15 A/N Summary: A self aware!AU with Caleb and NonMC! reader.

Tags: Caleb x reader, Caleb x NonMC! reader, Caleb x fem!reader, angst, fluff, Stressedout!reader, Hypersexual!reader.

Word count: 2k

Inspired by: @ittybittyfanblog

"I get that this life of mine is bereft of your presence, but then my heart doesn't know any other way to live."

You were sitting at your desk looking through another case file. Your eyes were starting to burn at this point. Ugh… God, you hated divorce cases, especially the ones with kids in them.

Just terrible… Both of the parents were clearly neglectful in their own ways—the problem was, who was the kid going to go with? It could unnecessarily complicate everything.

If you were being honest, you didn’t want the kid to go with either of the parents, but everyone knows just how great foster care is, and it’s not like your personal feelings matter. You were just doing your job.

The sound of nails tapping against your desk broke you out of your thoughts. You glanced up to see your friend and coworker, Madison. There was a smile on her face, a slight pitiful look in her eyes as she looked down at your hunched figure.

“Hey, Giggles. It’s almost lunch... Do you want to go grab a bite, or are you going to sulk all day, staring at that file?” She asked, gesturing for you to hurry up with her finger as she stood, leaning on your desk, waiting for you. “Up, come on.”

“Just a second.” You said, opening the notes app on your phone. Your fingers type quick words because of habit.

It’s been a tiring day today, Caleb. I’m going to go get lunch with Madison.

You wrote in your notes app. You couldn’t let go of that habit you had built up. Writing down mundane everyday events as if Caleb could still see and reply back.

How long has it been again? Around 4 years now…?

You sighed, getting up from your chair and fixing your shirt. “Let’s go…” You said, walking beside her.

Giggles, that’s what she called you. You both had properly met in your last year of college. Even though you shared classes, neither of you got around to talking to each other before. The conversations between you never ended without your laughter filling the space around you, earning you that nickname.

You were both lucky enough to get into a good and the same law firm in the city. Honestly, things had been much better with her around. Her presence helped your heart glue the broken pieces you had picked up yourself.

Both of your steps fell into synched paces as you walked beside each other; the sound of chatter, heels clicking, and typing of keys filled your ears until her voice forced its way inside your head. “There’s going to be a mock trial in a few days. Are you playing a part in it?” She asked, earning a shrug from you.

“No, not really. I’d rather watch; it’s interesting to see. I can learn something from watching. Besides, I doubt I can play the part of a money-hungry CEO.”

“Fair enough… Did you hear about the Honor Oil scandal?”

“The money laundering…? Yeah, allegedly there is a lot of hush money passed around. The CEO might just lose the company if he is not careful.”

“Is that case assigned to someone in our firm?” You asked, turning your head to look up at Madison.

“Nope, it's Smiths and Devane. It’s a shame, really; I would’ve loved to know more about it behind the scenes.” She said as you both stepped inside the elevator, pressing the button of the ground floor.

Neither of you said anything, hearing the small ding of the elevator, watching the door open. You both walked out of the elevator and out of the firm.

You sat down in front of Madison, sitting in the small café near the law firm you worked at. Quickly giving your orders, you just stared at Madison. There was something going on.

Madison was never this quiet… And it seemed like you spoke too soon before her green eyes caught yours and a sly smile formed on her face. “So, how do you like it in the firm so far…?”

The tone of her voice made you raise your eyebrows. Yep, something was definitely going on. “It’s alright… Just get to the point, Maddy.” You said, turning your head to look at the waitress who walked up to your table to serve your food. You gave her a smile and muttered a small ‘thank you,’ shifting your gaze to look at Madison.

“You know Spencer?” She asked, taking a sip of her coffee and looking at you with raised eyebrows. “Uh, yeah—he is very good with contracts and stuff, helpful guy.” You replied you felt like you knew where this was going.

“Well, he thinks you are cute and wanted me to give you his number if you want. He’s pretty nice, just a shy lad.” Madison said, looking up at you hopefully.

You knew the reason for that look in her eyes. Madison is a sweet woman; she is gorgeous and full of life. In the years you have known her, she’s been in relationships. And at one point, she probably didn’t want you to feel lonely watching from the sidelines. It was sweet, but no way you’d accept.

“Uh… that’s… thoughtful? I don’t know. I...just—it’s not…uh. I am not—“ You said, stumbling over your words. What do you even say, that you have a boyfriend who has no signs of existing?

“There is… someone I like, and I think it’s mutual… so you know.” You said, giving her a tight-lipped smile.

She reached her hand out, holding yours gently and giving you a smile. She understood and wouldn’t ask until you were ready.

It’s alright, sunshine. I can wait if you don’t want to tell me. You can take it at your own pace.

It’s best to keep things vague when it comes to dating. Besides, you said you’d wait, and you weren’t going to go back on your promise. You’ll wait forever if it means you’ll meet him at the end of time.

The next few days passed as a blur; somehow the only thing you were looking forward to was the mock court trial. It was a tense atmosphere in the mock trial, so fascinating to see how the mood kept changing instantly. This was supposed to be a quick trial, but everything was really dragging out.

You were trying to soak everything in when one of the receptionists walked inside the room and called for you. Apparently, there was someone looking for you.

Maybe it was a client or a member of their family... You’ll try and make it quick and easy for yourself, that is. These new cases were really stressing you out.

You took the elevator to the ground floor, glancing around the entrance. There were a few people there. One guy you had seen around the office, talking on his phone, and a few people talking to the receptionists.

There was also this guy… standing around near the couches with his back turned towards you.

He was really tall, with black hair, just standing around with his hands in his pockets. Wearing a leather jacket, black jeans, platform boots…? Just the way he stood reminds you so much of…

Caleb

You stood there for a few more seconds, the light metal chain around your neck feeling uncomfortably warm all of a sudden. You let out a shaky sigh, taking in a few breaths, trying to compose yourself.

Stop imagining things.

“Excuse me?” You said, walking over to him. Putting on your best professional smile you could muster up. The guy turned his head to look at you when he heard your voice, his warm brown eyes meeting yours, and it was as if the world stopped.

Maybe the world didn’t stop, but your mind certainly did—your smile fell as quickly as it appeared. You felt your knees growing weak the longer you stared at him.

Caleb Caleb Caleb Caleb Caleb

There was no way, right? You were just dreaming—your sick mind was just playing tricks on you. You didn’t want to believe it… you did want to believe it. You knew it was him. You just… you wouldn’t be able to handle it if the sound of an alarm woke you up like countless times before, when you had the solace of meeting him in your dreams.

“What… Are you surprised? Sure, it’s been a while, but you already forgot about me?” The pretty stranger asked, his voice shaking slightly as if he was trying to contain himself.

It was him; it was really him.

The voice you let out was almost inexplicable. Stepping towards him with shaky legs as you slowly wrapped your arms around him. Feeling his embrace. Your face was pressed against his chest, opening and closing your mouth as no words came out. Your mind is just trying to process it.

You could feel his arms around him, his cheek pressed against your hair, and his hand placed on the small of your back. The smell of his perfume clinging to the leather jacket—it was subtle but smelled good.

For three and a half years, you had forced yourself to live without him. Mourning his presence like a ghost. So far away, never in your sight but always in the back of your mind.

Now he was here… alive.

He was here.

“Oh god…” You choked out, tears streaming down your face as you buried your face in his shirt, staining the shirt with your tears—trying not to sob in the lobby of your office. He was here… Oh God, he was here.

It wasn’t a hallucination.

You weren't dreaming.

“Shh… It’s okay—I’m here now. Don’t cry, sunshine…” Caleb said, rubbing your back in small circles. “Can you take the rest of the day off, baby?”

You nodded without thinking; you could get Madison to cover your work today. Only a few hours were left, but you’d be able to go home.

You took your phone out of your pocket with shaky hands, tears blurring your vision as you felt Caleb’s hand wiping away your tears. You sniffled, quickly texting Madison.

Caleb was already looking at you when you turned to look at him. His hand wrapping around yours and leading you out of the law firm. He picked you up the second you stepped out of the firm.

“Caleb, what are you doing!?” You squealed, looking at him, and he just smiled back. “You weigh nothing to me, and I don’t care about what people think,” he said, knowing exactly what you would ask.

“Do you want to go back to your place?” He asked, and you nodded along. Before you could get another word out, he started walking. “I know how to drive, and I have a driving license, sweetie. You don’t need to worry.”

He always knew what to say, didn’t he?

“Mhm…” You just hummed in return. Leaning to put your head on his shoulder, shifting to nuzzle your face in the crook of his neck. You could feel his heartbeat. You wished this wasn’t a dream, but if the gods were playing games on you again and this was a dream, at least you could wish it would last a lifetime.

Tag list: @beewilko @browneyedgirl22 @aneertawrites @etsuniiru @demon-master-zero @angstylittleb1tch @mcdepressed290 @ittybittyfanblog @winwinwrites @alifyairl @huhleighna @calebsbeanpeeler @bookworrm1999 @mentaltrouble2201 @noxus123 @babyx91 @multisstuff @beomluvrr @sunnylittleapple @lunia-likes-pomegranet @imhere2dosomething @lostpsycho13 @april-likes-smut @calebsbabyapple @mephisto-with-a-knife @wooasecret @anatherone @mangooes

[sylusdarling]

Love and Deepspace FanFic Recommendations

Because who doesn’t need something new to read?

Last updated: 01/06/2025

Rafayel:

Sirens Call (AO3)

8.3k words, “In which Rafayel is suffering through his rut and you offer to help him, monster f****** style.”

Second Ebb Day (AO3)

2.9k words, “Ebb Day is when Lemurian's are at their weakest. You expect to spend the night wiping his brow and feeding him broth, but Rafayel has other ideas and he desperately needs your help to realize them.”

Starlight (AO3)

3k words, “After his birthday, Rafayel holds you to your promise of trying new things.”

The Ebbing (AO3)

4.6k words, “Inspired by Ebb and Flow "’There are so many things I want you to do to me.’”

Hearbreak Anniversary with Rafayel (Tumblr)

It was your anniversary with Rafayel. One year of togetherness. But what if he does not show up when you expect him to? What if he was spending it with MC?

Oh oh, I like it baby (AO3)

4.6k words, “your date with rafayel doesn't go as planned, so you have fun with him instead.”

Sylus:

Strictly (Un)professional (Tumblr)

5.2k words, “master and servant. man and his right hand woman. you and sylus are labeled many things, but does love exist in many labels of your relationship?”

Imagine being Loved by me (AO3)

4.6k words, “In short, it’s the MC/Reader’s birthday and Sylus let’s her have her way with him.”

Sleep Kitten (AO3)

518 words, “Sylus has a meeting but you have a bad dream, and seek him out.”

The Crows Plunder (Tumblr)

23k words, “𝐀𝐁𝐃𝐔𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 night of your engagement ceremony, you suddenly find yourself as the infamous captain sylus’s bargaining chip toward getting back some valued possession of his from your own father. it doesn’t help he’s one maddeningly attractive pirate king, and you’re more than eager to escape from an unwanted marriage. you can only make the most of things on this boat, surrounded by pirates, in the middle of the ocean, and it doesn’t prove too hard with him around.”

Do Anything {To Me} (AO3)

2k words, “There’s a wet sound as his mouth unlatches from you and he says, “Just one more, sweetie. Please.” His eyes are glazed over, drunk on the taste of you. “I’ll make it worth your while.”Or, Sylus is more than willing to submit to you when it comes to sex. All you have to do is ask.”

Xavier:

Bunny Tears (AO3)

7.9k words, “Xavier has once again managed to almost burn down the kitchen, leading the two of you to be covered in ash. A small suggestion to shower together leads to a little bit more...but really who's surprised by this turn of events?”

His Name (AO3)

4.6k words, “He chanced a glance at her head and noticed the fabric she wore and held to her nose, eyes closed and mouth panting softly. The jacket he’d let her wear when they were walking home together from work. His jacket.His.”

Zayne:

Raining Flowers (AO3)

11.4k, “You could hardly call Zayne your childhood friend, coming back into your life just a few months ago. There was an unspoken distance that he put between you, a mental arms-length evident through his mean remarks and long silences. Little did you know, that seeing you with the charming painter would spark something in the doctor.”

The First Fall of Snow (AO3)

7.7k words, “The Emperor isn't interested in his concubines, but an encounter with you is enough to change his mind.” - has a part 2

Nocturne of Twilight (AO3)

16.6k words, “he is your husband and you are his wife. but of course you know the bitter truth—you will never be able to replace her”

Missed Dinner (AO3)

3.8k words, “After Headquarters mentioned that you'll be taking a long business trip to a neighboring city, you wanted to spend your last day in Linkon City with a certain doctor. But things did not go as planned. There were times that made you think if there was romance blooming between him and the new head nurse, with that you decided to make use of this trip and distance yourself with Zayne.Who would have thought, this distance would affect him?”

Call me when I’m distant (AO3)

8.1k words, “You're trying to chase away the fantasies that have been tormenting you for months, born out of Zayne's indifference, when suddenly the very object of your desires appears while you're in a very compromising position. You're mortified, but when he offers to help you out, you'd be stupid to refuse.”

Pretty when you say my name like that (AO3)

3k words, “zayne’s preferred method of relieving stress”

[likea-silhouette]

Tied Together - ex bf!Harry Styles blurb

cw: mention of past relationship

word count: 2k

summary: Ever since you broke things off with Harry, you felt a massive feeling of guilt and hatred towards yourself for allowing such a trivial thing to come between the both of you. Now, all you had were your daydreams of him. What happens, in the present day, when you attend one of Harry's concerts and mix your daydreams with the reality of him being in front of you again. Inspired by the song Someone Else & Jesus by Ricky Manning

Sometimes I have this fantasy.

That one day I’ll get a knock on my door and it’s you with your arms outstretched and the widest, most infectious grin on your face.

I’d run into your arms with an exasperated cry of your name as I bury myself in your scent that envelopes your clothed chest and makes my stomach flutter. I feel as if I’m home.

It’s almost like I can smell you now, but that would be impossible amongst the thousands of sweaty, screaming bodies that are currently admiring you on a stage for the world to see and adore. 

As I briefly come back to reality, I smile to myself, watching you from the side of the stage as you do what you were clearly born to do with your life for the millions who know you’re a dime a dozen.

However, in my head, it’s just you, me, and the love that we once tended to religiously. In my mind, you’d whisper to me in that all too familiar accent, “Sorry, that I'm dropping in without warning, I've just missed you so much,” and I’d smile as if I knew this was always how it was meant to be with us. We were always meant to be so deeply tied together, yet in the real world, we couldn’t have been further apart. I shake my head and allow my ears to take in the screams and loud music that my brain had somehow filtered out in order to bring me to this space inside of my head where I went way more often than I’d like to admit. I wonder if he ever thinks of me as I think of him in a daydream that reflects our past. How he used to play me all of his new songs or tell me about his coffee order from the local coffee shop that day. The smallest things are the ones that bear the greatest weight on my heart because I crave them so so deeply, yet they are so fucking far away. That’s why I have this space inside my head that preserves a version of me and Harry that I would crawl on my hands and knees to obtain again in the real world. However, in my fantasy, I wouldn’t have to crawl to revive our relationship. Instead, we’d both have a proper laugh as we saw how inevitable it is that we would be back together again on my doorstep, because why wouldn’t it be? We are irrevocably chemical after all. Tied by a string that can’t be cut or stomped on. But instead, I left. I told Harry I couldn’t do this anymore - the touring, the months and months apart from one another. It was eating me up from the inside out and I thought that this was what he and I needed. If I just completely cut down our love that had grown into the prettiest maple tree, then eventually I would be okay. That I would heal and so would he. Except it never happened. Sure, things got easier, but I never stopped loving him no matter how many bodies I tried to use to replace him with. Now, Harry and I were strangers and he had been intertwined with other partners, and I was happy for him for that. Truthfully, I was. Harry was completely broken when I broke off our relationship. My best friend and Harry’s sister Gemma kept me in tune with how he was doing, but only because every time I talked to her, which was often, I would insist on asking if he was okay. Years later, I still did this very thing. That right there should’ve told me that what I did was the biggest regret I would make in my entire life. Now look at him - he’s touring the world again and making music that matures with every piece he creates. He’s dressing in a way that shows off how inevitably comfortable he is with himself and I couldn’t have wished more for him…except that he does this with me still by his side. I’m selfish, I know. But it’s foolish, isn’t it? I’m going to my 9-5 job and eating take-out in front of my TV on Friday nights while he’s doing all of this with his life. I am the one who lost out on so fucking much and, the fact that I did this on my own accord is the hardest pill I will ever have to swallow for the rest of my life. Especially when Harry was innocent in the matter, having done absolutely nothing wrong as a partner.

Regardless, I couldn’t be more proud of H for finding himself and those who love him - even if it means others inhabiting his heart like I wanted to again. He deserved love more than anyone because he gives it with everything he has and finding that genuine of a human is rare, yet what did I do with it? I broke it. All because I was young and I thought that long-distance relationships could never work. All because my anxieties ate away at me as I thought of the worst-case scenarios for what or who he was doing while out on tour in my absence. I placed my own insecurities on him and that isn’t fair to either of us. Now, I’m hurting in the process and I hurt him too. How stupid could I have been?

Suddenly, Harry’s voice rang through the entire arena as he addressed the crowd in between songs. Just the tone of his voice sent chills down my arms and spine and brought me, once again, out of my daydream. I watched as he interacted with those in the crowd - they didn’t know how lucky they had it. Being able to hold his attention and be graced with the things running through his mind that eventually left his mouth was such a privilege. I can’t believe I let that very thing slide through my fingers all because of my own stupidity. Harry never wanted me to break up with him. He pleaded with me on the street saying, “We can work this out. I’ll quit. I’ll do whatever it takes. I can’t lose you”, but I couldn’t let him give up his dream and love in life just because it was something I, at the time, couldn’t get accustomed to. This is why I kept telling him as a way to pacify his tears, “This is for the best for both of us” - except I failed to mention that I’m no psychic, merely an insecure girl who allowed her thoughts to weigh more heavily in her chest than the love she had with him. I wish I could talk to that girl again. Warn her that he was it for her. That he was and would be everything she would ever need. Tell her that their love was strong enough to get through anything and that her mind was the one creating wars, not Harry.

Suddenly, I felt Gemma’s elbow poking into my rib just before she whispered in my ear, “He just looked at you.” Quickly, maybe a little too quickly, my eyes moved in Harry’s direction, only to find him just beginning to sing the next song with his eyes very much closed and his hands shaking as they gripped the microphone stand. “I promise you, babe. He looked right at you. Nearly looked like he pissed himself.” There I was again - missing those vital moments in life because I couldn’t get out of the make-believe inside my head.

But-god damn-in my head, it was everything I wanted and more. How could I resist? In my head, Harry watches me do the most mindless of tasks with a smile on his face and when I’d catch him, as I did every time, I’d give his knee a playful tap. He’d respond by wrapping his arms around me and whispering sweet nothings and thanks that said how happy he was that we figured it out and finally found each other once again and that this time it would be different because we were older and wiser. That’s how love is supposed to go, isn’t it? If you truly love someone, then you always find them again. Yet, why did it feel impossible to find Harry again?

I’d like to give up this hide-and-seek chase with love and instead have a kid running around our shared flat who looks like Harry and has his deep emerald eyes that remind me of him every time I look at the being we created together. But instead, I left all because I allowed my brain to tell me what was fact and fiction. Suddenly, the whiff of Harry’s scent filled my nostrils yet again, except this time it was extremely strong. It almost felt real.

I rapidly blinked my eyes and allowed the reality in front of me to come into crystal clear view. What I saw, made my mouth hang agape. Not even three feet away from me - there he was in the flesh, not just in my memories. Harry was shaking hands with a few crew members in all black as he expressed his gratitude while wiping a white towel through his sweat-dampened hair. He had clearly just finished his show and was readying himself back into his regular, non-stage life. And then his eyes met mine. “Told you he saw you”, Gemma muffled from the corner of her mouth at me as she watched the interaction of past lovers now meeting in the present. I couldn’t help the smile that graced my lips the closer he got because this was real. He was so fucking real. It wasn’t one of my far-fetched daydreaming spells, it was Harry, standing directly in front of me with a heaving chest as he tried to regain his composure after putting on a show.

Soon, he was standing directly in front of me with a matching mouth that also hung slightly open. “Hi,” I said after several seconds of the both of us staring at each other with goddamn identical stars in our eyes and wide-spread smiles. At first, Harry didn’t say anything. His eyes simply searched along my face. Taking it in - deciphering if this was reality or one of his own daydreams that he always thought to be fictitious and ridiculous to even be picturing. Yet, here you were. Here you both were. Suddenly, Harry’s arms wrapped around you and you didn’t care about the fact that the sweat from his clothes was quickly morphing into the sweat on both of your clothes. You didn’t care that it had been years and years of pain and missing him because right now, you had him where you had been craving him the most - in your arms. Everything felt worth it just for this moment, whether it lasted for just tonight or for the rest of eternity.

Harry squeezed me even tighter in his arms until eventually releasing but still maintaining a gentle touch as he let our fingertips just briefly kiss one another.

“I’ve missed you so fucking much. You have no idea.”

I shook my head because, actually- “I think I do. I’ve missed you too Harry.”

From that moment I felt something that I hadn’t felt in a long time when it came to Harry and I. It was positive and even excitement.

It was hope.

[shiggybrainr0t]

shouto todoroki x reader

word count: 2k

warnings: reader has hair that can be tucked behind their ear, reader is bullied, forced self-harm (forced to pinch their cheeks)

a/n: this is my entry for @bloompompom ‘s “to all the fictional boys I’ve loved before” writing collab!!! the rom com I chose was ‘Ella enchanted’ because I instantly knew Shouto would fit perfectly ❤️ thank you for letting me join!! i love this but I also think it is not my best work and kind of cringey 💀 this was also inspired by many kdrama cliches djsjsks

summary: you have a quirk that makes you obey every command you are given. if only there was a prince who could come save you? or better yet, help you save yourself.

You're six years old when you develop your quirk. Your parents had taken you to the doctor, scared that you were quirkless, which in turn made you scared as well. The doctor reassured them that everything seemed fine, and your quirk should develop soon. Who would have thought that being quirkless would have been better.

It happened one day in kindergarten. Your then best friend was mad at you because you didn’t want to play dodgeball, and instead wanted to sit in the sandpit. In the heat of her anger, she screeched at you to “go eat rocks!” only to be shocked whenever you stiffly got up and did just that.

Your teacher was horrified when she was dragged over by your friend to see you, with gravel filling your mouth and tears running down your cheeks. When asked why, all you could simply muster was that you had too. You ended that day with a trip to the ER, multiple cuts inside your mouth, and a broken tooth.

Looking back, your quirk probably had already developed. You were known to be a very obedient child— it just took something extreme to clue everyone in. And it would only go downhill from there.

Your parents didn’t mean to take advantage of your quirk. Normal parental comments like “eat all your vegetables” and “go clean your room” just meant that you couldn’t talk back and had to follow the commands instantly. It became a habit almost to voice their requests as demands instead of suggestions or requests. You couldn’t fault them for it really. Especially not whenever they praised your good behavior in front of others, always so proud of their perfectly behaved child. Eventually, when you stopped talking as much and began secluding yourself more to avoid the feeling of your body and mind being forced to do something, they didn’t really seem to notice.

It was a day in your last year of high school that you met Shouto. You had always noticed him of course. Your general studies class and his hero class had been keeping the same lunch time for your entire high school career. He was princely in his stoicism. Perfect face not marred by his scar, only enhanced. He moved like an elegant dancer— every move calculated and on point. It would be no surprise to anyone that you had started harboring a crush on the fellow student. Who hadn’t had a crush on him would be the better question.

Alone at your table in the corner, you’d admire Shouto and his friends at lunch. They always looked like they were so close— the whole class did to be honest. Deku and the others were the only ones who you ever saw crack that perfect facade. A tiny smile here, a barely wrinkled brow there. It was magical to watch. The prince and his court.

You were glad he had made friends. You couldn’t say the same. Try as you might, you just couldn’t keep your quirk a secret. And once one person knew, it wasn’t long until there were many people taking advantage of it. You had gotten by relatively unscathed so far. You mostly got orders to do others homework and class chores. Many afternoons it was only you left in the classroom working away without choice, trying to finish the class chores before dark.

Your only reprieve came in the home room teacher of said prince: Aizawa. He had learned of your quirk, and it only took him one afternoon seeing you doing the chores alone for him to figure out the bullying. You refused to tattle, knowing that it would only make things worse, but he was able to release you from the power of your classmates’ demands.

You were given a strict suggestion, not an order though this time you don’t think you would have minded, to come find him anytime you needed his help. No adult had ever helped you like this before. All of your parent’s friends fawned over your quirk, and lamented about how they wished their own children had developed the same quirk. They had no idea.

It was an afternoon where the sun was shining brightly. A perfect day for something ugly to happen— especially to someone with luck like yours. There was one girl in your class who always had it out for you. You didn’t know why, you had never even talked to her. Your attempts to remain unseen unfortunately did not work this day, because for some reason the most popular boy in your class had decided he thought you were cute and voiced that to his friends.

Enraged, the girl hissed at you after class in a voice filled with venom, “He won’t think you’re cute if your face is full of bruises. Pinch yourself and don’t stop.” As your body filled with syrupy static and your hand raised to your cheek to grasp it in a hard pinch, you fled to try and find the only man who could make you stop.

By the time you made it to the hero department, your cheeks were sore and tears had filled your eyes. You didn’t even notice the prince you had always admired from the top of your tower pause as you sped by, face marred by a frown at your distraught expression.

The pro hero was obviously unamused by how you refused to tell who had made you pinch yourself. A trip to Recovery Girl however had you right as rain, and you were honestly ready for the day to just be over. The last thing you were expecting was Shouto to be standing outside the nurse’s room waiting for you. His face serious and his large arms crossed over his chest. His uniform fit him perfectly, you noticed, like it was tailored just for him.

“I’ve heard about you.”

Your mouth dropped open without your permission . His voice, deep and smooth, glided over you like water and cooled on your skin.

“You have a quirk that makes you do what people tell you to do.”

You had heard about his blunt nature, but hearing it for the first time in person shocked you. At your timid nod, his brow furrowed, and his eyes gave you a once over quickly.

“You can come get me. If you ever need help.” With this statement he pushed off the wall, and without a goodbye walked away.

You tell yourself that it’s just in Shouto’s nature to help people in need. He is in the hero course, so naturally he would follow you whenever he saw you were distress. Shouto being, well Shouto, makes it very hard to keep this in mind.

After the pinching incident, you seemed to have become a target for your classmates’ anger and frustrations. One classmate failed an English test, and to make themselves feel better they ordered you to jump on one foot until you couldn’t anymore.

Eventually left alone in the hallway, your jumping not being entertaining enough to them anymore, your saving grace came in the form of your prince. You don’t know why he was in the general studies section of the school, but you couldn’t complain— multiple students had walked by you with barely a glance. He walked over to you quickly and put a hand on your waist.

“Stop.” His voice cleared the haze in your mind making you obey, and his cool hand kept you steady as you wobbled, unstable after jumping for so long. Shouto straightened your uniform jacket with nimble fingers before walking away, leaving before you could even say thank you.

The next big incident came in the form of you being told to dump your glass of water over your head in front of everyone in the cafeteria. You quickly ran off afterwards, and your prince followed only a few feet behind.

Staring at yourself in the bathroom mirror, your shoulders dropped. The bathroom door opening suddenly made you whirl around, heart racing whenever you saw the signature two toned hair of Shouto.

You had never seen this much emotion on his face before. He looked angry as he stalked over to you. He grabbed the paper towels you were using to dry yourself, and his hand raised up close to your face. The air around you turned warm. Steam surrounded you as he evaporated the water from your hair and down to your shoulders. You were reminded of how you would sit in front of the heater after playing in the snow as a child, defrosting contently.

“Why don’t you tell the teacher who does this?” His voice was soft, a contrast to his angry demeanor.

You looked up at him, and saw how genuine he was. He cared so much about the wellbeing of a stranger. A prince indeed. You decided to take a big step, and tell him something you’ve never told anyone.

“I-I can’t.”

Your voice was meek, and his face turned stoic as he took in your answer.

“You can’t, as in someone ordered you not to.”

It wasn’t a question but you nodded nonetheless.

“You know there is a loophole for this, yes?” He said it so simply, no judgement in his voice, only the same warmth.

With a sigh, you begin to explain. “Their dad is my dad’s boss, and somehow they figured this out.”

With a hum, Shouto grabbed a strand of your hair between his nimble fingers. He twirled it around before tucking it behind your ear and smiling. It was like looking at the sun.

“I think I can help.”

He held your hand as you both walked back to the cafeteria. It was his fire side, and the warmth radiated up your arm and into your heart. Before you both entered the cafeteria, he spoke.

“I know you can’t verbally tell me who is responsible for this, but whenever I point them out I want you to squeeze my hand. I already have some idea.”

To show him you understood, you gave his hand a shy squeeze. This made him send a small smile your way, and you could feel the breath physically leave your lungs.

Shouto confidently walks you to the right table, leaving a quiet room after him. Everyone seemed shocked to see you both hand in hand, except his friends. Glancing over quickly you could see that Deku and Ochaco had large grins on their faces, while Iida was nodding in what you could only interpret as aggressive approval.

Your classmates stared at the both of you in trepidation as you and Shouto came to a stop in front of their table. Without saying anything, Shouto quickly pointed at the girl who had always had it out for you, and made sure the rest of the class began to feel the same way. Surprised he knew so fast, you squeezed his hand, heart beating furiously.

“I see.” Was all he said, and you watched as the girl’s face turned pale in the glory of his ire.

The next few days seemed to happen in a blur. Shouto had taken you straight to Aizawa to tell him who your tormentor was, as well as the concerns that held you back from using the loophole of your quirk sooner. The next day, the girl and her family met you in Nezu’s office to apologize.

They bowed to you, and the father told you that he was relocating himself and his family to South Korea, so there would be no worry of any retaliation against your father. Your father might even get a promotion. You noticed how pale he seemed as he looked at the tall figure looming behind you, icy hot eyes staring the man down.

Later that day, you stood shyly in front of a stoic Shouto, trying to put into words how grateful you were.

“That wasn’t the first time I had noticed you, you know.” He spoke first.

“What?”

“I’ve um. I’ve always thought you were really pretty.”

Shouto looked away from you suddenly, bringing a hand up to scratch the back of his head. A soft pink highlighted the tips of his ears.

“I’ve always thought you were really handsome as well.”

Shouto’s head snapped back towards you in surprise. Before he speaks, his eyes focused over your shoulder and his expression crumpled. You looked behind you, shocked to see Deku, Ochaco, and Iida peeking out from behind the corner. Deku was exaggerating his expressions and mouthing “ask them out!” They spot you looking and quickly popped back behind the wall.

You laugh brightly, and find your confidence.

“Will you go out with me, Shouto?”

[actuallysaiyan]

Fan Service(Jiraiya x Fan!Fem!Reader)

warnings: smut, lewd themes, alcohol, praise kink, oral sex(fem receiving), penetrative sex, age gap, creampie finish word count 2k pairings: Jiraiya x Fan!Fem!Reader summary: during a book signing event, Jiraiya meets you. a breath of fresh air. and an aspiring smut author yourself...what happens when you two meet up to discuss positions?

Usually he wasn’t even really that excited for these types of events, but he can’t let his dear fans down. When he was just an up and coming writer, these types of events would be the highlight of his week. But right now, he was sort of wishing something else would happen. Something more fun and something more exciting than signing autographs for people who seemed disinterested or answering Kakashi’s questions about what’s going to happen in the next volume. Jiraiya was growing very bored.

That is…until you showed up.

Your beautiful eyes were alight as you approached the desk he was sitting at. A stack of books were piled up against his left arm, and Jiraiya nearly topples them over when you come over. You’re nearly bouncing in your steps as you finally get to him.

“Jiraiya-sama!” You squeal as you place a well-loved copy of Icha Icha on the desk. “I am so honored to meet you.”

His heart skips a beat. Your voice is so sweet and it’s so bubbly. He looks up at you and his cheeks redden just a bit. But he’s nothing if not suave. He looks at the copy of Icha Icha you’ve placed on the desk and opens it up.

“Well,” he says softly. “That’s a sweet thing to say to an old, washed up writer. Who should I make this out to?”

You say your name with a smile. “That’s a first edition copy.”

Now Jiraiya was impressed. “Is it? You’ve certainly enjoyed it. You know, I don’t have too many female fans, but this makes me happy.”

He signs his name after leaving a sweet little message. You seemed like a very nice girl. You look at him with stars in your eyes, almost like he’s your raison d’être. There’s something very sincere with the way you talk to him too.

“I…I had something to ask.” You say in a shy voice.

“Hmm? What is it, sweetheart?”

Your cheeks redden at this. “I’ve been writing as well. And I was wondering if maybe you could coach me.”

He laughs. “Nah come on, kiddo. You don’t want that. I’m washed up.”

You shake your head. “No! You’re truly inspiring.”

You place another book on the desk. It’s a notebook that looks like Icha Icha. He opens it up and reads a few passages. His eyes widen in shock. You were pretty good at this. He’s more than impressed.

“You don’t need my help, kiddo. You’re good! Heck, I’d say you’re great!”

You blush even more. “You really think so? I know it’s a lot to ask, but I’d love to learn from you.”

He scratches his head. “Okay okay…how about we meet for drinks at some point this week? I can give you a few pointers.”

It’s on a Friday night that you meet up with him in the bar. He looks so confident as he sits in the booth with his drink. He waves at you, a cool smirk spread on his face as you approach him with that bubbly gait. You sit across from him, placing your bag on the table.

“I bought you a drink,” he says, placing a bottle of beer in front of you. “I didn’t know what you liked, but the bartender says this beer is popular.”

“Thank you! You really didn’t need to do that at all.”

He shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t mind.”

You pull out your notebook and take a sip of the beer. It’s a very smooth beer, and you know you would have probably ordered something nice like this for yourself. And then you and Jiraiya begin to talk about literature.

He’s got notes himself, showing you some of the rare things he wrote a long time ago. You feel so honored to get to read them. He talks to you about the editing process and how to make time for writing. He reiterates the importance of reading as well to keep your vocabulary up to date.

“I know you can do well,” he whispers softly after he’s had a few drinks. “You’re already wonderful.”

You’re blushing more now since you’ve also had a few drinks. “Thank you so much.”

He loves the way you keep leaning against him since you switched over to sitting next to him. Your perfume smells so good. You’re really cute too with the way you basically melt under his praise.

“I mean it! You could even give me some pointers now.”

You swallow hard. “Well,” you try to get the words out right. “There’s a position that I read in one of your books that I was wondering how good it would be.”

You open up the book in front of him and you read the passage. Then your eyes lock with his and it’s hard to look away. The sexual tension just keeps building and building before he leans in close.

“I’m just going to let you know now,” he whispers. “If we go any further, I don’t know if I could bring myself to stay away.”

You smirk. “Good, I don’t want you to.”

And with this, you seal it with a kiss. It’s slow and tentative at first, but then it turns into something a little messier and hotter. Jiraiya wraps his arm around you, pulling you impossibly close to him. Your breasts press up against his rock hard abs, making him grunt with pleasure. This was becoming the best fan meet-up in the history of his career and you weren’t even the first fan he hooked up with.

“We should probably take this elsewhere,” Jiraiya says as he nips at your bottom lip.

“Sounds like a good plan.”

Despite not wanting to pull away from you, Jiraiya gets up and helps you pack up your stuff. He’s quick to pay off his tab and with that, he brings you outside. The walk to his place is slow and sweet. The two of you discuss all kinds of things while the sexual tension builds inside of you.

Inside his apartment, he tells you to make yourself at home. You feel like this is just the start of one of his books. You grin at him, making him blush just a little bit. In the low lighting of his place, you look like a dream. A sexy, wet and palpitating dream. He approaches you with quick strides, and then he’s pinning you to the wall.

“Look at you,” his fingers brush back some hairs from your face. “You’re giving me those fuck me eyes. You’re making such an old man feel good, darling.”

You giggle. “Jiraiya, I want you to fuck me.”

His cock throbs at the words that come from your lips. He looks into your eyes, searching for maybe something that says not to do this. When he finds nothing but lust, admiration and even something close to love, he captures your lips with his own.

Languidly, his tongue rolls and rubs against yours. It’s a wet kiss that leaves your panties very sticky with arousal. Your heart is pounding in your chest as he moves with a certain suggestiveness that you’ve never seen anyone else have. When he pulls away, he’s smirking at you.

“Want to take this into the bedroom or do you want me to fuck you right up against the wall here?”

Your breath hitches in your throat. “Jiraiya. I—”

He laughs. “Up against the wall it is!”

He pushes you further up against the wall before getting on his knees. Seeing such a big man kneeling before you like this has your stomach in knots. How could he be this sexy? It was no surprise to you that someone like him was just dripping with pure sexuality but this was better than you could ever imagine.

His fingers are quick but soft as he undresses you. His teeth bite and nip your skin, leaving little marks to remind you that this did in fact happen. This was real and it was happening to you. You moan when he swivels his tongue on your lower tummy, his tongue swiping down under your underwear before he looks up at you.

“You smell good,” His face is pressed between your thighs. “So fucking good.”

He wastes no more time. Your panties are pushed down and he leans in to lap at you like a man starved. Your knees are already buckling and you don’t trust yourself to hold yourself up anymore. Thankfully, Jiraiya is quite strong and he’s good to keep you up while he sucks on your clit. Waves of pleasure ripple through you before you fall off the edge with a loud cry of his name.

“Already?” He asks, his lips still somewhat wrapped around the throbbing nub. “Wow, I didn’t think I was that good.”

You huff and blush, looking away from the very sexual man that sits on his knees for you. He’s toying with your folds, licking them and sucking on them before his tongue dips down to your entrance to get a full taste of you. His eyes roll back as he gets the full flavor of your essence.

“You’re gonna make me addicted,” He growls before he gets up on his feet. 

Jiraiya pulls down his pants, kicking them to the side. He grinds his hips against yours, allowing you to feel his erection that’s now straining against his underwear. Your hand shakes as you reach down to palm him. He’s fucking huge, but you’re not one to shy away from this challenge.

He bucks up into your hand. “Think you can handle it?”

“Of course I can.”

He loves how confident you are. He helps spread your legs before he pushes his underwear down. The look on your face when you finally see his dick says it all. Jiraiya knows he’s been blessed with a big member, but he always loves the way women react to it for the first time.

“Brace yourself, honey. I’m gonna rock your world.”

He uses the tip to smear your arousal all over before prodding your little hole. You were going to be tight, he knows this. But as he pushes into you, he finds it’s the warmth that’s drawing him in more than anything. His eyes close and he grunts.

“Taking me so well,” he praises you before kissing you.

Slowly, he starts up at a pace that’s comfortable for the two of you. He’s surprisingly gentle for someone who seemed like he’d be wild with you, and yet you can’t complain. It feels so good to go slow like this, building a bond without truly realizing it. Your bodies move together in tandem before he picks up the pace and begins slamming into you.

“I knew you were such a naughty thing when I first laid eyes on you,” He lifts your leg and places you in the position you were talking about earlier. “How’s this for the position, hm? Is it as good as you imagined?”

In this position, he reaches even deeper into you. Your eyes roll back and your nails dig into his skin and he pushes you right over the edge. His gruff voice is coaxing you to cum, cum all over his cock. With your tight walls spasming around him, Jiraiya is finding it so hard to hold on.

“Fuck,” he pants. “Gonna cum. Where should I—”

“Inside, please!”

Your words alone are what send him over the edge. He grunts as his balls tighten, making his cock throb with each shot of hot cum that paints your insides. It’s sticky and messy, but he continues to thrust into you. Jiraiya kisses you, making his whole body shudder from the deep affection he feels for you in this moment.

As things begin to subside, he pulls away and looks at you. You look very satisfied and it warms his heart. He knows he’s a good lover, but sometimes he does worry that his age has finally caught up to him. Another kiss and he slowly pulls out of you. His seed drips down your thighs.

“Maybe…” you pant. “Maybe we can try a few other positions?”

He grins. “I love the way you think.”

With that, he takes you by the hand and leads you into the bedroom…

reblogs and comments always appreciated!

©actuallysaiyan 2025– do not repost on other platforms, copy, translate or edit my works!

dividers: @/adornedwithlight taglist: @cherryblossombankai @misty-angerose @adharadotcom,

@isabelzoldyck, @felixmr @animediplomat,

@shycoconutt,  @kiiwiipie, @aervera,

@erebus-et-eigengrau @hornyslasher @dreadsuitsamus

@yeowangies @vividly-vermillion @pixelcafe-network

[ponderingmoonlight]

Darlin', can I be your favorite?

Pairing: Sukuna x fem!reader

Word Count: 2k

Synopsis: In a world full of death and tortue, wouldn't it be the easiest to seduce a man who is able to protect you at any cost? Ryomen Sukuna definetely is exactly that. Now, the seduction part...

Warnings: no really deep plot, just some teasing and a little bit of spice here and there, language, reader trying to seduce Sukuna with literally everything lol

Inspired by the song "favorite" by Isabel LaRosa

Your mission was clear since the first time you saw him in action, felt how strong he is: Get Sukuna to fucking adore you.

It might sound ridiculous to the untrained ear. Sukuna, the king of curses, the most frightful creature walking on this planet? To even consider you’d be able to warm his heart is worth a laughter. You know exactly how all the others would react when they hear your wild plan to seduce him, to get him to catch feelings for only you.

But what better defense than having the king of curses by your side? This fucking world is nothing but a battlefield and as a jujutsu sorcerer, you’re in the middle of it. Day in day out you risk your life in order to safe others. And even though it might sound tempting to simply haunt after Gojo Satoru, it’s not the same.

No, you want Ryomen Sukuna and no one else.

Your heels click against the floor as you make your way through Shibuya’s train station, Sukuna’s fingers lying in your purse comfortably. What better way to catch a glimpse into his heart than giving him back those? Well, to be exact you don’t have a set plan apart from getting him to like you. After all, love can’t be forced, right?

Well, that skin tight dress paired with those high heels you chose for today might do that, though.

“Now, where are you Yuji?”, you mumble to yourself, eyes darting around the worn-down area.

There is no doubt in the fact that a fight occurred here not long ago. The air still smells like blood and sweat, the wall is still hot from an enormous impact. But who? Was it Yuji? You follow a trail of blood with your hips swinging from side to side. You just need to find him, need to seduce the king of curses. This is your best chance to not croak in this shitty job.

Your heels stop in their tracks.

A tuft of pink hair rests against the entrance of the rest room, so minor that you almost missed it.

Almost.

You walk towards the beat-up boy while casually inspecting him. He’s definitely alive, but barely. Yuji’s whole face is covered in multiple cuts and bruises. Who on earth did he fight against? And where is that other person? No, it’s not your responsibility to think about that right now. With a swift motion you open your purse and reveal those oh so deadly fingers.

“Now be a good boy and swallow”, you purr.

Your hand grabs his neck and yanks his head upwards while you carefully feed Yuji Sukuna’s fingers. Please, let this work. You are tired to the brim of running away, of fighting curse after curse each and every day. How about a peaceful life with Sukuna by your side? Fuck Jujutsu High, fuck Satoru Gojo. You don’t want to die before you were even able to live properly.

“Get your hands off me, human.”

For a moment, your heart skips a beat. Just one look into his red gleaming eyes and suddenly so matured face is enough for you to realize that this isn’t Yuji anymore. No, the person you are sitting on with your hand wrapped around his neck is none other than Ryomen Sukuna.

Finally.

“Oh, you’re awake. That went smoother than I thought”, you reply with a cheeky grin, not moving an inch away from him like he told you to.

“Who the hell are you, brat?”

He has definitely seen you before, you are a jujutsu sorcerer without any doubt. But why are so damn close, why does your hand wrap so delicately around his neck? Your dark eyes rest on his face unpromising, lashes hanging into your orbs seductively. What’s that supposed to be?

“My name’s whatever you make it. But how about wife?”

Sukuna isn’t able to move, let alone speak. Did you really introduce yourself to the king of curses like that? He shouldn’t waste any time, wring your neck the way you deserve it, dissolve you into tiny pieces. Who the hell do you think you are to speak to him like that? You, a puny woman? Not even the fact that you reunited him with a few of his missing fingers is enough to spare your life.

But why…Why does he still sit there like he did before, allowing your hand to rest against his neck? Why is he unable to give you a sharp answer like he always does?

“I am the king of curses”, is the only thing he’s able to press out.

“And I’ll be your girl. Deal?”

He lets out the breath he didn’t know he was holding, eyes scanning your features up and down. You do have a pretty decent face for a human, your delicate eyes keeping him trapped. That confidence dripping from each and every pore of yours, the way your body is so near that he’s able to hear your blood circulate…

“What the hell are you talking about, stupid girl? If I wanted to, I could kill you without even flinching. Now get off me and run for your life.”

When Sukuna finally regained his threatening voice again, he expected your heart to shiver, your body to stumble backwards until you run away. But instead, you move even closer and dare to sit on top of him, gleaming eyes now staring him into the ground while your naked thighs rub against his pants.

“But you didn’t. Think I must be your favorite.”

The fact that he didn’t kill you right on the spot when you disobeyed his order is enough proof that your plan is actually working. Yes, you managed to confuse the king of curses, to arouse his interest. Now the only thing that’s left is seducing him.

“You are annoying as hell. Now get off me, I have some work to do”, he barks back at you.

His hand grabs your wrist roughly and removes your grip around his neck. But instead of simply throwing you off him, he holds your arm in place while keeping only inches of distance.

Oh, his lips are so close that you are literally able to taste them. Just one movement, one innocent flinching of your hips above his and the gap between you both is closed.

“Are you trying to seduce me, dumb girl?”, he breathes out.

He does it so well, keeping himself cool and composed while his mind races back and forth with your intoxicating smell penetrating his nose. In his long life, there was never a woman who actually tried to seduce him. After all, he’s the king of curses, so strong because of the fact that he never felt love or affection for anyone in all those years. He’s heartless, cold, a menace. Why would a woman ever get the idea of showing him affection? He came here to kill, to destroy this fucking city and make that brat suffer.

But now there’s you.

And apparently you couldn’t care less about the fact that he’s the king of curses.

“Actually, I am”, you purr, your free hand beginning to draw small circles onto his chest.

“Why would you do something so fucking stupid?”

“I mean, you’re the strongest, right?”

He has to blink a few times, the way you look at him as if he’s the dumb one catching him completely off guard.

“I’m the king of curses”, he reminds you all over again.

“And with being your favorite, you take me places-“

“What the fuck are you talking about?”, he interrupts you roughly.

You roll your eyes in sheer annoyance, nails now digging into his chest.

“Make me your wife so I don’t die”, you finally blurt out.

Is this the reason behind your questionable action? He could have killed you right on the spot and just one look into your gleaming orbs tells him that you know that all too well. And still, you risked your life for him to protect yours. Were you really so sure you’d be able to seduce the king of curses with a lousy dress and some high heels?

“Why would I do that?”

Enough playing. He should behead you right on the spot before torturing you for the time you wasted. You aren’t even worthy to breathe the same air as him, let alone being this close to his body.

But…Why isn’t he able to simply throw you off, then? Why is he even questioning what you’re up to, replaying your words over and over in his mind?

“Because I’ll let you taste-“

Your mouth is so close to his ear that your hot breath caresses his skin while the filthiest thoughts leave you with ease. His eyes grow wider and wider with each passing second, disgusted but at the same time…

“Enough”, he hisses through gritted teeth while grabbing your shoulders roughly.

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Aren’t you at least a little invested? I have a lot to offer”, you reply, ignoring his last question elegantly.

The war inside his head makes him forget that he’s actually out on a mission for a moment. You…you are so different from all those other jujutsu sorcerers, risked your puny life so that he eventually watches over you. How ridiculously brave, how fucking stupid. But still, when your gleaming eyes rest on his face like that, that oh so cheeky grin plastered on your face you make him wonder. A wife, his favorite?

Before he’s able to think straight again, a wave of freezing mist darts towards you at neck-breaking speed. His heart skips a beat, eyes darting towards Uraume who fixates you with hate dripping from every poor of her warped face.

You won’t be fast enough. No jujutsu sorcerer except for Gojo Satoru himself is able to escape Uraume’s powers when surprised. If he doesn’t react, you’ll die. But isn’t that what he wants, that you finally vanish into thin air and leave him alone? You, the girl who just claimed him as her husband only because she doesn’t want to die.

“No.”

His body moves on its own. All of the sudden he finds himself standing in front of you, his hand deflecting Uraume’s Frost Calm with ease.

“Don’t you dare to hurt her, Uraume.”

You can’t believe it, breath getting stuck in your throat. He really did save you. Even though all you did was purring at him, trying to convince him with sugary words, Ryomen Sukuna stood up for you and defended you against one of his. Out of instinct, you push your wobbly legs off the ground, excitement filling you to the brim. With that oh so cheeky smile, you wrap your arm around his and eye the person in front of you up and down innocently.

“But she…she is a human being, Master. She’s a weakling, one of your enemies”, Uraume breathes out.

“Who allowed you to speak to your Master like that? Get out of my sight and do what you were taught to.”

You watch in awe as the person standing in front of you crumbles, their hateful gaze almost piercing through you like a knife until their gone as fast as they came.

“So, I really am your favorite, huh?”, you hum.

“Shut up brat, I’m the only one who can kill you. Now get going, I have a lot of work to do.”

Tags:

@arehzhera @ploylulla @tzubaki @beatrexworld @kenstarsworld

@hellkaiserinphoenix  @lauv4chuuya @sindela @kayleegomez @sunshine7queen

@magalimachete @gatitam @idontknow1123 @creative1writings @sanicsmut 

@mynahx3 @sad-darksoul @chilichopsticks @hellkaiserinphoenix @chuyasthighs0

@ynackerman9499 @keepghostly  @froufrousnowman @tomiokathedepresso @gojosrealwife 

@coffeeluvr96 @mahi-tamashi @weebotaku21 @chaoticwinnercupcake @lees-chaotic-brain 

@risuola  @sugurulefttesticle @wordskeeper @baku2345 @polarbvnny

@ruixrei @bam-bam-bam-bame-blog @lavenderdrxp @localhehecat @alicerhr

@kayleegomez @belovedvamp @wifenanami @chilichopsticks @dlwlrmas-world

@oikawarz @darkstarlight82 @satoreo @kentocalls @cheesemachine44

@ryva @kenjakusconcubine @baku2345 @komelrebi-san @deezy12299

@okay-it-is-ivy

[nonstoplover]

all of my heart ~ carlos sainz (cs55)

my masterlist | my f1 masterlist

pairing: carlos sainz jr. x fem!reader

summary: a short story of carlos becoming a father

words: 2K

warnings: one tiny swear word in spanish ig, otherwise nothing, just fluff fluff fluff and dad!carlos which deserves its own warning tbh

a/n: i know you love the dad!driver trope, @vetteltea, which is why i dedicate this blurb to you (though i think you'd maybe prefer this to be with seb now that i think about it), as a thank you for all the amazing fanfic you provide this fandom with. i love you so much, you're so talented, so inspiring, and i truly wish to be like you. <33

please, don't be a ghost reader, leave a comment or rb!

Carlos is still a little out of breath when he hears it for the first time.

A delayed red-eye flight and an excruciating traffic jam caused him to almost miss this appointment. The first he finally has the chance to attend – having had a race when the initial one happened –, and he almost missed it.

As a drop of sweat rolls down the side of his face, obvious sign of how only seconds ago he was still running up the stairs of the hospital, a smile forms on his lips. Looking at her, lying down, the screen beside the bed showing a picture of their baby.

Well, at least they say it's that. For the love of God, Carlos can't see anything on it. He still nods along with a wide smile when the nurse asks him if he sees it. The focus shouldn't be on him and whether he can see it or not, but on his girlfriend.

God, this woman. He hasn't seen her in over a month now. And this is how they meet again: when they meet the little one officially as well, though on a screen only. Hell, the last time he saw her, they had no clue of this wonderful piece of news. From watching her wave with a smile through the glass at the airport, before he turned a corner towards his flight and disappeared, fast forward to now, when he catches sight of her lying form, just as gorgeous as ever, if not more, with a baby growing inside her. A creation by him and her.

They're gonna have a child, Carlos thinks, and as if it's the first time he realises this, his heart stops for a second. In happiness, in awe, in fear.

Because as the image on the screen gets displayed, and Carlos gets lost in-between words like embryo and transvaginal scan, suddenly the doctor announces that the baby indeed has a heartbeat, listen, you can hear it. And this one sentence, followed by the almost inaudible little thuds, is enough to make everything feel real.

Of course, he already knew what the positive pregnancy test meant, the one she showed him first on a FaceTime call, then sent as a separate picture later. But this, hearing that tiny heartbeat, it made everything even more real. They had actual proof now of what is going to happen in the near future. It might not have been planned, but it doesn't make it any less sweeter.

With his heart beating away in a rapid rhythm, he feels his facial muscles pull as his lips curve into a smile, so wide that it even showcases his pearly white teeth.

When he sees her the next time, the first thing Carlos does is place his palm against her tummy. The bump is already visible – well not in the hoodie she's currently wearing, but it's there underneath, he knows –, and he's been dreaming about holding it for many, many days now.

She lets out a giggle, throwing her head back a little, having expected a kiss upon her arrival, not this. Carlos practically doesn't pay her any attention, his sole focus is on talking with his baby.

Later on in the car she inquires jokingly the reason behind why she's not the first to be greeted by him, and he explains with a serious tone why that's the priority. "You get all this time to speak to her and bond with her, and she's already inside you which is a bonus, but she has to know exactly who her father is."

"She, huh?" she raises a teasing eyebrow, and he simply smiles, shrugging in a nonchalant way.

"I can feel it in my bones."

He looks so self-assured that she can't help but lean in and press her lips against his cheek. She still can't believe she'll get to have a kid with this man.

Doubt starts rising in his mind when they reach the third trimester. The date underlined in bright red in his calendar creeping closer and closer, making him more self-conscious and unsure than he's ever felt.

What if he won't be a good father? What if his job gets in the way of his child really feeling close to him? What is he supposed to do anyway? He already has no idea what he's doing in this whole pregnancy, safe to say, how is it going to be when he finally gets to hold the baby as well?

He's read multiple long articles, spending every flight he's had to take nose deep in his phone, until his eyes hurt and words started to lose their meaning. He wants to be the best father he can be.

This even includes several calls to his parents, asking for advice from them as well, trusting and valuing their words far more than the ones he can find online. He knows that his parents proved already that their methods work, they've been good parents to him and his siblings.

Still, the only thing that seems to reassure him is that they – the baby and him – have her. His superwoman of a girlfriend, who simply seems like she was actually born to do this, to be a mother, taking every obstacle in their way with a cheerful step and a smile reaching from ear to ear on her face.

How did he deserve her?

As he's gritting his teeth to stop himself from letting out a groan while the pain he's feeling in his hand spreads – mierda, this woman is strong – he repeats one sentence as a mantra. Only to keep him from worrying his heart out for the love of his life, who's currently letting out loud gasps and occasional curses, her eyes teary and her cheeks red from the strain of pushing and pushing and pushing.

I hope the baby looks like her.

Why is this so important to him? He has no idea. He doesn't even know why the thought popped into his mind in the first place. He just knows he has to keep on repeating it to divert his mind, otherwise he'll lose his sanity.

Simply, he has to focus on picturing a baby with her eyes, her hair colour, the elegant line of her nose, the curve of her lips, her rosy cheeks. Every inch of their baby looking like a mini-her. Because what would be better than looking at his girlfriend and marvel at her beauty? Of course, looking at her and his daughter, and seeing the exact same beauty? Sure, it would be nice to have a tiny detail of him in their baby girl somewhere, just so that it would be obvious to the whole wide world that this is his baby, that the woman giving birth to her now is his woman. Maybe the exact copy of his eye colour? Or his locks of hair, silky and thick? It doesn't matter. Honestly, who cares about how she looks, he will love her no matter what. With his whole heart, with more love, a deeper connection than he's ever felt before.

Minutes pass, then some more, until it feels like an eternity has gone by since they arrived to the hospital. But then he hears it – crying. The unmistakable baby sound, entering the haze of his mind like a sharp knife, bringing him back to reality in a millisecond.

Everything seems to quicken up, and the next thing he knows is that the bundle of his child is placed in his arms, and after that initial wave of slightly terrified chills running through his body, immediately a mixture of relief, joy and tranquility spreads in his veins. He has no idea why he was so scared this whole time. This is... subconscious. Instinctive. Meant to be.

In that very moment he wordlessly promises the baby to always be there for her, always looking out for her, always caring and loving her with all of his heart. He won't let any harm ever reach her.

"Congratulations, Mr. Sainz, on the birth of your son," the doctor approaches him, and that last word bursts the bubble Carlos has been surrounded with.

Son?

His eyes widen, lips fall slightly open in shock – right until he hears the exhausted sounding but unmistakable giggle coming from the bed. "I told you," she grins.

"A boy," he mumbles dreamily, glancing at his girlfriend, lips curving into a smile matching hers.

"Good thing I came prepared with boy names as well," she continues, slight pants leaving her lungs still.

The memory when she practically wanted to force him into choosing a male name as well, just in case – because he was so sure about their baby being a girl that he didn't even want to spend a moment thinking about names for the other sex –, pops into his mind, and he shakes his head. He was wrong.

Tiny feet patter on the floor, growing louder and louder, before a second later they suddenly cease and get replaced by a high-pitched giggle.

She glances up just as Carlos appears in the doorway to the kitchen, their son hanging from his arms, his little cheeks red from all the laughter. Her heart swells at the sight and sounds, her eyes shine bright, connecting with his easily – the love of her life.

Miracle. That's what the little boy is in their lives.

Watching Carlos be a father has been the best thing she's ever had the chance to witness. The way he plays with him, practically going back to being a child, his sole focus being on entertaining his son.

The Sainz household they established not too long ago is filled with laughter every day, the walls reverberating with the joyous sounds until they fill their hearts.

"When's dinner ready, mi amor?" Carlos leans in, pressing a loving kiss on her temple.

She cheerfully smiles, her fingers moving to caress the impossibly soft, dark brown hair on the little boy's head. "A few minutes," she replies, catching her fiancé's eyes once more. "If you two help me set the table, we can eat sooner."

Her son nods eagerly, as much as his three-year-old energy allows, and waves his tiny arms to wordlessly tell his father to put him down on the ground. Carlos obeys, then opens the cupboard to find the appropriate plates – all plastic, reserved for the times when it's only the three of them eating, to allow the young one to help them without the worry of him breaking anything.

She watches from the corner of her eyes as her two boys move towards the dining table, where Carlos lifts their son to stand on a chair, this way allowing him to reach the tabletop. His hands never leave the boy's waist, just in case, and when he's finished setting the plates, helps him back on the ground.

"Good job, chiquito," Carlos holds his palm out at the proper height.

"Gracias, papá," the little one slaps into his father's hand eagerly, making his mother smile so wide it's close to actually hurt the muscles in her cheeks.

They walk back to the kitchen counter with proud looks on their faces, and she places the bowl of salad in Carlos' hands. "It's too heavy for you, pumpkin," she explains when her son opens his mouth to complain.

"Te adoro," Carlos steals a melting kiss from her lips as his fingers get a hold of the bowl, before leaning back and fully taking it from her. I adore you.

With her heart fluttering with nothing but pure happiness and blood rushing to her face, she enjoys the way that bashful smile forms on her lips that only he can achieve. Her gaze follows his movements, the way the T-shirt clings to his arms, to his back muscles, and how the soft material ripples with every move he makes. He is breathtaking. He truly is, because unawares, she lets out a soft gasp watching him and has to endure the knowing glance and that smirk he casts her way above his shoulder. He knows her too well.

She shakes her head, attention going back to her son still standing by her feet, patiently waiting for his next task. A perfect mini-him, way more than she could've ever asked for.

A perfect child, a perfect man to call the love of her life, a perfect life. And it's all hers.

a/n: i'm back baby!! i've been gone for the longest time ever (since last summer) but i'm in my final year of uni and i had to write my thesis too so hopefully that's a good enough excuse. writer's block ain't fun still. it really just feels nice to post something again.

my masterlist | my f1 masterlist

[pullupinarari]

at an event, reader has the full attention of the crowd, the men mainly. they go home, and everything is normal. nothings tense or whatsoever. but reader knows. how lewis saw those eyes on her. the next morning, his side is empty. she went to the kitchen, hug him from the back, soft kisses between his shoulder blades. "i'm yours. not theirs" she says. inspired by i'm yours - isabel larosa that is currently on repeat.

a/n: this thing is almost 2k words, THIS ISNT A BLURB ANYMORE please I need to be stopped. I LOVED this scenario so much and I wish I had more time to give it all my thoughts (it would be a gigantic fic), but I might come back to this one once I have more free time. Hope you like this, babes 🩷

Tonight, you own the night - tonight, it’s all about you. Tonight, you are going to present the most important project of your career at your company’s gala dinner. It’s a special night, you hold all the hard work you put into all those plans and strategies very close to your heart - feeling very proud of your research and the final results. It’s a success all your coworkers know about, and they all want to celebrate your project with you.

But tonight is even more special because you get to have your husband by your side, accompanying you to dinner, watching your presentation with big, bright eyes, a proud smile plastered all over his face as he sees you on stage, talking about your research effortlessly, dominating every aspect of the theme so beautifully.

Lewis keeps a low profile when he is your ‘plus one’ at work meetings, trying his hardest not to draw any attention to himself when the main focus is on you. Most of your coworkers already know him - it’s not the first time he has been around by now, so he can enjoy his time just sitting at his table, his eyes trained on you as he listens to everything you say very attentively, without anyone bothering him.

His heart swells whenever he thinks about how brilliant you are, how successful your career is, and the standing ovation you receive once you finish your presentation, really says it all. Everyone shares the same opinion as Lewis, all eyes in the room are focused on you, no one is daring to move an inch so they don’t lose sight of you.

Your husband can’t help but gulp when he notices how you try to get back to your seat beside him at the table, but everyone insists on stopping you midway, wanting to talk to you, to congratulate you on your job. You are kind, offering a smile to every person who tries to talk to you, but you too just want to meet Lewis now - he is the one that has dealt with you during all the sleepless nights that you had to pull through while researching, all the grumpiness coming from the lack of rest, the almost constant self doubt and the anxiety that invaded your body, even just a few hours ago before you presented your project to a room full of important people in your field.

Once you are finally able to reach him, Lewis meets you with a soft, gentle kiss to your lips, letting you know how amazing you are, how proud he is, gushing at your achievement, now. And your eyes shine as bright as his, just from the fact that he is right by your side, so you can share this important conquest with him.

You are thankful that he could change some of the plans of his own agenda to stay with you tonight, because you honestly don’t think you would be able to do all this without him here - without his hand securing yours, gently tightening his grip around your fingers to let you know that everything will be alright, that he is right there with you through it all.

The truth is, Lewis would never miss this for the world. He is so incredibly proud of you and everything you represent in your career, and in life in general. He drools at the sight of his wife, shooting him a bright smile while you wrap your body around his arm, reaching to land another kiss on his cheek now - a silent ‘thank you’ that you never had to voice.

The rest of the night goes smoothly, and a sleepy wife hugs herself closer to Lewis, signaling him that it was time to call it a night for the both of you. He helps you get into your pajamas, gently wiping all the makeup off of your face before your body collapses on the bed, tired and worn out from all the work, all the stress that has finally ended.

You lay your head on his chest, his fingers caress your hair softly, helping you fall asleep almost immediately while your husband stays awake - something in his mind bugging him to the point of making him lose all the sleep in his body.

Lewis isn’t jealous, he swears he isn’t. It’s just that his thoughts can get quite invasive, and tonight seems to be one of those nights. He replays the way all those eyes were on you - and he can’t help but feel a little small, insecure even. He doesn’t have six PhD’s, he has his own businesses but he doesn’t research as much as those guys do, he doesn’t dominate your work topics the way they do, no matter how hard he tries to pay attention to you whenever you talk about them, to try and understand the most out of your career.

He trusts you with his life, but this is a problem that he has with himself. He feels unimportant sometimes, especially when it comes to your coworkers. Truth be told, they don’t make even a quarter of the money your husband does, they don’t have the success Lewis has, but this isn’t about money or fame to him - it’s deeper than that.

The man finds himself tossing and turning in bed, looking at your sleeping figure from time to time, noticing how peaceful and sound you look. He envies the way your body gets to rest now, compared to how tense and tired he feels.

He knows you are a real catch, and he is very aware of how lucky he truly is to be married to you, to live such a happy marriage beside you, and he also knows that most people would kill to have what you and him have. But the unsureness diving through his veins and the restless thoughts are forming a cocktail in his brain, making it impossible for him to fall asleep.

You wake up in the morning with the sun gently scratching your nose, making you scrunch your face at the sensation. Still in your sleepy state, you extend your arm to Lewis’ side of the bed, trying to reach for his body to intertwine with yours, craving his touch while you wish to delve deeper into the sheets.

Your eyebrows furrow when you don’t feel him by your side. Opening one eye slowly, getting used to the sunlight hitting your face, you see that his side of the bed is empty. You check the clock, 7:48 am - it’s still too early, you’re sure that he hasn’t left yet.

So you get out of bed, searching for your husband through the house. You find him in the kitchen, his back turned to where you stand as he holds his body on the counter with his arms, his head hanging low while he looks at the cup of tea in front of him - trying to find some miracle that can calm him down.

He lets out a small sigh, and the view in front of you breaks your heart. You know what it is, you know the kinds of thoughts that are running through his brain right now - the same ones that kept him awake the whole night. Lewis has confessed this insecurity of his to you before, and it seems like it’s back.

You slowly walk to him, hugging him from behind, your arms wrapping around his figure - your hands meeting in his chest, noticing how his heartbeat feels erratic at your touch. You leave a few kisses on his shoulder blades, your lips trailing a gentle path alongside his spine, while one of his hands caresses yours.

“Go back to bed, love. I’ll be right there” - he tells you, his voice sounding hoarse.

You hum at his words while you continue your actions.

“I’m yours, not theirs. You know that” - you tell him softly, watching how Lewis looks back so your eyes can meet for the first time now.

He has an exhausted look on his face, dark bags decorating his small eyes, the wrinkles on his skin looking deeper, laced with tiredness and concern at the same time. He can’t help but just stay silent, embarrassment evident on his face now - he knows he shouldn’t feel this way.

But he is lucky that you love him so much, not even minding spending every night talking to him when he gets in his head, taking all the time that he needs to make him feel better. You have no problem putting him first when things get bad, when he doesn’t feel at his best - that’s what marriage is for.

“You know how I already know all the words you’re going to say, before they leave your mouth?” - you question, seeing how a small smile appears on your husband’s face at your words, making him nod his head slightly.

“And I already told you that hearing your voice through the phone is my favorite sound in this whole world, right?” - he nods again, reaching to kiss your knuckles, your body still wrapped around his own.

“I know I will never find someone else that loves me the way you do, Lew. Same way you won’t find anyone to love you with this crazy intensity that I hold inside of me, like a tornado ready to hit every time I see you. We are married because we are meant to be together, silly” - he turns around so he can look at you in your plenitude now, reading all the honesty splattered in your eyes as his hands search for your waist, pulling you closer to him.

“I’m sorry” - he says, his voice barely above a whisper as his nose gently caresses your features and his lips leave gentle kisses on your skin.

“There’s nothing for you to be sorry for. I love you, and only you. I’m all yours, baby - and I’ll make sure to keep reminding you of that” - you say, with a cheeky smile erupting in your face.

Your lips search for his, finally connecting with all the certainty in the world. You passionately kiss your husband, in a way to shush all his doubts and show him how much you love him, how much you need him, how much you are devoted to him and your marriage.

“Come on, let’s get some rest. Our bed is much more comfortable than the kitchen counter” - a chuckle finally leaves Lewis’ mouth at your words, allowing his body to be pulled by you into the bed again.

You make sure to hold him extra close, to cuddle him even more, to kiss every inch of his skin, to touch him with all the care that you hold for him, waiting until his mind quiets down again, feeling his body relaxing at your touch, his body hugging yours while he slowly falls asleep.

You can’t help but smile to yourself, as you caress his head and take in his scent - the feeling of ‘home’ that he holds in himself without even realizing, knowing that you wouldn’t trade this for anything in the world.

[trippinsorrows]

ltye + gym time

authors: this was inspired by a request/suggestion by @romansthrone we all know smut is hit or miss for me, but this felt very much like something that needed to be done, so here we are. i.e. idk wtf this is, but we're just going with it, friends.

warnings: smut

words: 2k

gif belongs to @romanreigns (don't know why the stupid tag never works smh)

Solana has come to enjoy training. Come to enjoy feeling herself growing stronger: mentally and physically. It’s a different but welcomed experience. So, it’s no big deal to her when Bayley and Naomi text that they’re stuck in traffic due to a bad accident that essentially shut down the interstate. Knowing they’re going to be more than just a couple minutes late, they instruct her to get started on her stretching until they get there. Not a big deal.

She’s confident enough to do that all on her own.

But therein lies the issue.

She’s not alone.

Because walking into the home gym, she’s met with none other than the hulking 6’3 frame of her husband who’s in the middle of a bench press.

“Oh.”

Solana was unaware of the fact that Roman planned to come back home after leaving their bed around 7am this morning. She figured he’d get his workout in elsewhere, maybe the Warehouse. Not at their home though. Especially not when she needs the space to train.

But her reaction is not one of anger or irritation. It’s something…..else. Something that’s solely driven by the fact that Roman’s physique is something crafted by the Gods themselves. His massive shoulders and bulging biceps are on full display in the sleeveless dri-fit workout top, and she would never admit it out loud, but it’s hard for her eyes not to focus on the bulge that’s pressing against his workout shorts as he pushes his muscles—and her self-control—to the limit.

It’s only when he goes to sit up that she redirects her attention to another machine. Anything to hide the truth of what she was really staring at.

“I—” She clears her throat. “I—I have training today.” Solana grips her water bottle, tightly, as she forces her gaze back on him. Her stomach caves in just ever so slightly watching him stand up and walk over to her. “I—I need to stretch.” Something flashes in Roman’s eyes, something she recognizes but refuses to feed into. “Bay—Bayley and Naomi. They’re—they’re running late.”

“Mmmm.” Her body is practically on fire under his intense gaze, the way his eyes can’t seem to decide if they wanna focus on her face or her chest. “How late?”

But, it’s that question that makes Solana realize she has to take some control. Stepping to the side of him, she moves over to the area with matts that face a section of mirrored walls. “I—I won’t bother you.”

She hears Roman behind her. Sees through the mirror how he can’t seem to rip his eyes from her ass. “You never bother me, Solana.” It’s an almost sweet sentiment that makes her smile a bit until the next part comes out. “But you damn sure distract me……”

No, no, no

Walking back over to him, almost shuffling, she takes a deep breath, doing her best to stay focused and not distracted like him. “Okay, we—we can share this space. I do my stretching and you just….like….do what you do.” She nods and can acknowledge the fact that she’s not sure just who she’s trying to convince. Him or her. “Okay?”

Roman doesn’t say anything, just tilts his head to the side, tongue licking his bottom lip.

Oh my god.

“Okay,” she says over a shaky breath, turning to walk away so she can get started and be done. Maybe she can talk the ladies into training outside today, because it’s clear Roman just got started and won’t be done anytime soon. And his focus seems to be on everything but working out, which is no good for her when she’s also struggling to remember her reason for even coming in here….

To her credit, Solana does well. Ish. Because every so often, she’ll look into the mirror and accidentally catch Roman’s eye. Sometimes, she can tell he was already looking in her direction. Other times, it’s truly a coincidence. Regardless of the reason, it helps her realize one very important thing.

That she’s just as distracted by him as he is by her.

But, she stays strong, stays as focused as possible.

Until she does one too many moves, one too many distracting moves. 

Solana is bent over, hands on her right foot, enjoying the stretch of her limbs, the releasing of all tension in her muscles when she feels it. Feels him.

Solana gasps and shoots upward. Roman is directly behind her, his erection pressed into her ass, his hands on her hips. “Roman!”

“You really expect me to just stand here watching you bend over every which way and not get hard as fuck?” His hand moves to her stomach, bracing her against him. Solana’s hand moves over his as her eyes flutter shut.

“Roman….” The resolve is practically gone, and even she can admit she sounds more needy than anything. That nothing in the way she says his name indicates she wants him to stop, wants him to move away.

“You said you need to stretch, right?” He’s so cruel, the way he shifts behind her, almost teasing his rock hard dick against her ass cheeks at the same time he moves his hand upwards and gropes her breast. “So let me stretch you out.” 

It should be a no. Should be a declined offer. Something that doesn’t result in clothes and plans being discarded in favor of carnal temptations being fulfilled. 

She needs to be ready for training. He needs to lift. 

They had agendas that shouldn’t be altered, but the minute Roman looks at her through the mirror, full lips lifting into a smirk as he slips his hand into her sports bra and gently squeezes her breast, she knows that it’s a wrap. 

And in what feels like only seconds, Roman has her shorts off, her panties somewhere thrown about and her hands planted on the mirrored wall as he thrusts deep into her from behind.

“Roman.” When he’s inside her like this, dick throbbing and pulsing, it seems like the only word in her vocabulary is his name, a couple of profanities, and a few almost slurred indistinguishable sounds that could be words but really aren’t. “Mmmm”

Roman, however, can’t seem to take his eyes off her ass, the way it bounces off his thick dick that’s coated in her essence. “All this body you got, and you really thought I wasn’t going to touch you?” His hand moves to the small of her back, helping to steady her. “Wasn’t going to bury my dick inside you and watch you come apart?”

Solana says nothing, too focused on trying to keep her knees from giving out. Roman’s thrusts are controlled and focused but powerful and profound. It’s hard to keep her arms steady as he drives into her with all the passion and desire.

“P–please—” Eyes crunched up, Solana has the hardest time not screaming, yelling, shouting, anything to release the influx of overwhelming emotions—and pleasure. It hurts, but it doesn’t. It’s good, but it’s amazing. Too much but not enough. He’s giving her everything she needs yet more than what she can handle. “I—ca—” Moving one hand off the glass, she reaches behind her and struggles to get out a logical request. “It’s too—”

At that, he pauses, stops completely, his dick only halfway in her, and she’s never been so annoyed. “Am I hurting you?”

If not for the fact that remembering her name is a struggle with how good he feels inside her right now, Solana would feel a little bad. Would feel guilty for making this man think that anything about how he’s fucking her currently hurts. What hurts is the feel of only a part of his girthy member inside her, teasing her.

“No,” she answers confidently, unsure as to what her goal was in the first damn place. 

“Good.” Solana moans and whimpers as he’s cruelly slow with shifting his hips as he works his way back inside of her. “Then take it, baby.” God, this man is unreal. “You can do it, can’t you, sweetheart? You can take all of me. Just like you did last night.”

Just the memory alone of Roman slamming into her, holding her legs up high and on his shoulders is enough to make her come. To make her finally lose all control and fall to the floor as her orgasm tears through her, hindering her of all autonomous mobility. 

“C’mere.” Once again, she protests when he completely removes himself from her. Solana hates the hollow and empty feeling between her legs. Roman then turns her around, and she gasps as he hikes her on his waist and moves her so that her back is against the wall. 

With one arm supporting her weight, she is both embarrassed and impressed how he manages to position and guide his dick inside her wet, velvety folds. It’s enjoyed and welcomed, but what’s neither of those things is Solana’s thought at him having to hold her up. 

“Ro, I’m—” She bites down on her bottom lip, hands on his shoulder as she rocks into her. “T–too heavy.”

The last thing she wants is this man getting hurt, but the almost insulted expression on his face seems to indicate that’s the last thing on his mind.

Roman’s big hands dig into her hips as he asks with an almost haughtiness. “Do I look weak to you, baby?”

Nothing. Nothing about him screams weak.

And he emphasizes that strength as her head is naturally rocked back against the mirror while  he starts to fuck her from this new position, deeper almost, more intimate. Her breast bouncing against her ribcage from the force of his thrusts. 

Roman groans again, pushing his dick into her, mesmerized by the almost discombobulated expression on her face. He fucking loves how much she loves this. How much she loves the feeling of him inside her almost as much as he loves being inside her. 

“Goddamn, this pussy gripping the shit out of me.” He nips at her neck, hissing as Solana’s short acrylics press into his skin. “Soaking wet and just for me, huh?”

She moans into his shoulder, shaking her head, that stroke of Roman’s ego encouraging him to shift her up higher, this different position just enough to help him find her spot. The evidence in how her whimpers and moans get louder combined with those thick, luscious thighs tightening around him. 

“Love the pretty sounds you make, baby. All fucked out like this on my dick.” Roman is almost certain he could spend the rest of his life fucking his wife and never grow tired, never want to pull out or not experience the majesty of her wet ass pussy. “You gonna let me fuck you like this tonight? Hmm?” It’s a wicked thing to do, Solana thinks to herself. Mean for him to ask her something like that when she’s in no position to deny him. An impossible thing with how good he’s making her feel. “Gonna sit on my face so I can eat that pretty pussy till you’re pushing me away?”

Fuck.

Roman’s filthy talk during intimacy is something she’s certain she’ll never get used to, even if it does make her cunt flutter and throb with need. 

“Y—y–yes, baby.” Because only a fool denies a god. “Oh, shit, right there—”

“Damn straight.” He squeezes her ass, wishing he’d taken her top off. He loves her titties almost as much as he loves her ass and wishes he could have them in his mouth right now. “My sweet girl letting me take care of her.”

And take care of her does he. In every way, especially like this. Always like this. 

Solana holds onto him, clutches him close as he continues to talk her through it. The perfect combination of nice and nasty, tugging and pulling her closer and closer to her limit, to that edge where stars are the only thing she can see as a burst of intense, almost painful pleasure shoots through her, making her hold him even tighter. Roman’s tender voice is in her ear, encouraging her to ride it out, to let him fill her up as his own release arrives over him. 

He’s gentle in the way he   pulls out of her, uncaring of the cum, both his and hers, that saturates his dick. He’s too focused on the excitement at watching it spill down in between her legs and the way she continues to hold him, clearly unable to stand and walk on her own.

Solana lays her forehead against his chest, panting, “that—that was—”

“Always is,” his smart reply is also accurate. Intimacy with her has easily become one of his top three favorite pastimes. Her pussy is fucking addictive. Smirking, he does his best to ignore the fact that he’s still technically semi-hard and could absolutely prop her right back on his dick. Kissing the top of her head, he dances his fingers across her lower back, half-joking, half serious when he suggests, “you should let me stretch you out more often.”

[purpdrawsthings]

I SWEAR THIS IS THE FINAL ONE

God this app is going to be the end of me.

For anyone asking where their oc was, don't be afraid to ask me! =3

@ominus-potato @h4ppysoki @fenicearts420 @icedbeverageenjoyer @alex-dolmatescu2-0 @zenith-astral @moonlight12086 @sakuwura-meow-meow @josiekatxd @echostarsys @neo91502 @smgx-pez

Special mentions!

@birdy-four @scimagic @fruit-sy

Links to the two past posts!

First

Second

LET'S TALK ABOUT THE DAMN ANIMATIC CUZ I NEED TO.

Finally.. With that settled..

Was this worth it? Idfk.

I am so burnt out..

This thing was made in both Flipaclip and Alight motion. Give all the thanks to my fingers and thumb chat 💜💜💜💜

Now this thing was originally supposed to premier on the 31st right at new years. Problem was, IT HAD 2K+ FRAMES AND I STARTED AT THE 21ST. WORSE, I DECIDED THAT IT WAS THE AMAZING DECISION TO ADD 85 PEOPLE AND DID NOT PLAN THIS. This thing has got me doubting myself, I think I almost went crazy.

I did 500 frames for the first day then 200.. Then 100... THEN LESS THAN 100. By the 31st, new years had past. Meaning it was outdated. Might as well finish it right? I took a break for almost week before going back at the project thinking "WHAT AM I DOING??". I finished by yesterday and uh.. I did like 500+ frames from yesterday cuz I was that desperate to get rid of my misery. I edited the thing today and everything was ready right?

WRONG.

I HAD TO DEAL WITH THE PROBLEM OF ME ADDING THE 4 MINUTE ANIMATION IN THE POST, WAITING FOR IT TO SAVE, ONLY FOR IT TO REJECT ME. This went on for a total of 3 hours with me just WAITING for it to let it save while I watched videos from my tv. Eventually, I gave up and decided to split the video.

Thought that was end? NO. I REALIZED THAT I COULDN'T PUT 2 VIDEOS IN ONE POST, NOR CAN I ADD MORE THAN 50 MENTIONS IN ONE POST. These past few hours was stressful my god. Finally seeing it end was a relief.

I am NOT doing this again.

Anyways, with that outta the way.. I'll get on with my uh.. Statement for Christmas!

Thank you for everyone for an amazing and awesome year. It's been a wonderful one and I cant express the amount of gratitude and love to each every person I've met this year. Even if it was for a short while, I still enjoyed every moment.

I can't believe that joining one fandom would get me this far, it blows my mind because of how many connections I've able to make because of this one fandom. I give my highest gratitude to the SMG4 community, and the amazing people who are in it.

I started my early days in this internet in amino. Although small, it let me explore new stuff and new people. And to that, ill say a thank you to all of my among us friends, and the community itself. This whole fandom inspired me to make my own series, create my own ocs from scratch, and slowly grow. Although during that period I didn't get the amount of attention I have now, it was a great, small place to start off as a small creator.

Back to the SMG4 community, I would like to say thank you for 200+ followers on both Tumblr and Twitter! Old me would've exploded so many times because of that milestone. I can't believe I have so many people I look up to that actually follow me, like what you guys actually notice me?! I'd like to say so much more but it just really flabbergasted me of how far I've gotten. I can't even think of the words or anything! All I can say is thank you for the experiences I've had. All of this couldn't have been done without you.

It's time for some little statements for all the people I adore.

@tiredsmashbros @strange0-0storm @its-a-me-mango @cookiepopcat - Omg I see y'all as the big artists of the community sishsishishdid interacting with every single one of you was a pleasure and it was amazing! I don't usually interact with people I admired or looked up to due to me being a bit shy.. But y'all are so amazing! Everytime any one of you would reply to my posts, I get a huge squeel! I was getting noticed like help??? You guys are like one the first few artists that I saw when starting in the community, you guys can't imagine how much of an inspiration you all are to me, and for that, thank you for everything, big or small! 💜💜💜

@rr3d2y @mikchi8 - AKO AND MIKCHI YOU TWO SILLY PPL GUHHHHHHH. First off, AKO I LOVE YOU SO MUCH!!! YOU'RE LITERALLY MY FIRST SMG4 RELATED FREN!! I STILL CAN'T BELIEVE THAT OUR FIRST INTERACTION QUICKLY JUST MADE US FRIENDS LIKE, YOU SO COOL??? AND MIKCHI, ALTHOUGH WE DON'T INTERACT OFTEN, I FIND YOU SILLY, AND GOOFY. STOP PUTTING PREGNANT EMOJIS GUHHHH!!!! /silly You two are so silly sihsisgdishsishdidg love you two 💜💜💜💥💥💥💥

@coralalala64 @bear-boi-5 @libbytwq - You three are also silly like what. SOYYYYYYY I fucking love ur artstyle it's so recognizable.. I LOVE UR VIRAL VIRUS AU!!! I swear I look at EVERY SINGLE POST relating to the AU like I AIN'T JOKING I READ ALL OF THEM YES THAT'S WHAT I DO IN MY FREE TIME. The way you incorporate horror into your drawings is amazing, IT JUST WORKS! Coral you goof stop spreading the creachurs everywhere now my place stinks... /silly anyways, YOUR TRADITIONAL ARTSTYLE IS AMAZING! I FIRST SAW YOU THROUGH YOUR SILLY CREACHUR DOODLES AND I LOVED THEM!! TALKING TO YOU IS ALSO AMAZING CUZ YOU SO FUNNY! Somebody kick Ignatius away from SMGL:E /silly LORE YOU SO COOL!!!! THE THINGS YOU ARE WORKING ON WITH L:E ARE SO INTERESTING PLEASE DO KEEP ON COOKING I WILL EAT IT. I swear to god I don't know I how this all happened but I swear you three are cool af. 💥💥💥💥✨✨✨✨

@michealscorneroftheinternet @grinnames - WHERE TO FUCKING START... Micheal, I. Love. Your. AU's. SHOUTOUT TO @dorriostareyes TOO CUZ YOU COOL! I SHOULD'VE ADDED YOU IN THE SPECIAL MENTIONS GUHHHHHHH I'M SORRY!!!!! Continuing.. I LOVE YOUR THREE AU'S, UNDERTALE AU? AMAZING. CHANGE IN SCRIPT? ABSOLUTE CINEMA. THE FALLEN? AN ABSOLUTE MASTERPIECE!!!! You can't imagine how much I love your content... I won't stop making fanart for you so that I'll actually explode your circuits =3 /silly /hj GRINNAMES I LOVE YOUR GODBOX AU. LIKE I LOVE ME TWO CORRUPTED SMG'S CONTROLLED BY THE GODBOX 💜💜💜 They are so silly like they could on a killing spree.. OH ALSO UR ARTSTYLE IS VERY VERY PRETTY. I LOVE IT! You two have amazing AU'S like god aishoahsoshsoshsohsosh💥💥💥💥💥💥

@icedbeverageenjoyer @h4ppysoki @jovialoddity @bidinonsense @fbanjex @4thwallbreakerdraws2 - do they all have in common? MR PUZZLES! Every time I see yalls Puzzles content I have a smile on my face that I can't describe cuz yalls Puzzles content is so peak, I LOVE ME SOME SILLY HANDSOME TV MEN CONTENT THANK YOU!!!!! Oh btw @alex-dolmatescu2-0 don't worry you're invited to the club too don't be shy 💜💜💜

@eliscz @opossol @theartistisme43 - YOU ALL SO COOL LIKE SOSHSIDHDODHOSHDODHD. Opposol I know you aren't involved in the SMG4 community much but I love ur content it's just so amazing and I love the cartoons kinda fuzzy art style. Elis also know you're in your sun n' moon hyper fixation phase but broadcast madness au is PEAK. Cantro I love your scarred verse like it a so interesting I love scarred SMG4 sm. Someone beat up that tv man 😔💥💥💥 /silly

@art-parasi-te @superluigiglitchy - You two are amazing people! Hamlos you should know by now that I am actually kinda into Dandys World and I even have my own oc so.. IDFK WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT WHAT AM I SPITTING??? Squib yaoi gotta be my fav ship 💜 PJ! I love ur silly Oliver squib yaoi content like HE IS SO CUTE SOMEBODY MAKE A MARKETABLE PLUSHIE OUT OF HIM!! So yeah you two so coollllllll ✨✨✨✨✨

This animatic was made to express my gratitude and love to every single on fo the people in this community, featured or not, you are all awesome. Hopefully this will get some smaller creators the attention they deserve 💜

Big or small, we all can achieve out dreams, next year ;)

Merry Christmas / holidays everyone 💜

I am so not okay chat

[corroded-hellfire]

Gimme A Break - Eddie Munson x Reader

An As You Wish Story

Collaboration with my beloved @munson-blurbs

Summary: A trip to the grocery store has you running into some familiar faces--and one not so friendly.

Note: Let Brittany bashing commence!

Warnings: talk of body image

Words: 2k

[As You Wish masterlist]

In your opinion, there’s no such concept as a bad time for soup. The dead of winter, the stifling heat of summer—it’s all good. 

The fall weather that’s rolled into Hawkins has inspired you to try your hand at making some from scratch, bringing you to Bradley’s Big Buy on a Sunday afternoon. You’re inspecting a bag of carrots for freshness and tossing them in the cart haphazardly when you feel a sudden thump against your leg. 

“Wha—” you start, ready to confront whoever was careless enough to ram into you. Your scowl immediately softens when you see the two smiling faces looking up at you. “Oh, hi boys!”

Luke, unsurprisingly, is the one who ran into you at full speed. Ryan is a few paces behind his bull-in-a-china-shop brother, but his expression is equally happy. 

You crouch down to give each of them a hug. The way they both wrap their arms around you radiates love’s warmth, and it melts your heart. 

“Are you buying anything good?” you ask, knowing they’ll be wholly unimpressed with your basket full of vegetables. 

Luke nods vigorously. “CHICKEN NUGGETS!” He bellows, drawing irate glares from nearby shoppers. “Daddy has a cool-pon.”

“It’s coupon,” Ryan says with a gentle roll of his eyes. 

You’re still stuck on the mention of their dad. Eddie’s here? And you don’t have on a lick of makeup—of course. 

“Where is Daddy?” you ask, looking up and down the aisle in the unlikely event that you missed him. 

“He’s uh…” Luke trails off, scrunching his nose as he searches for his dad. Carly Simon’s “You’re So Vain” crinkles over the PA system after being interrupted by a call for assistance in the frozen food department as Brittany appears at the end of the aisle.

An irritated voice calls out from the end of the aisle. “What’s taking you two so—oh. You’re here.” Brittany crosses her arms over her chest, huffing out an impatient sigh when she spots you. 

Luke pipes up, still attached to your leg. “We can’t find the asper-, uh, aparag, the um…”

“Asparagus,” Brittany corrects him as if the five-year-old should be able to pronounce words perfectly by this age.

“Oh,” you say, turning to exactly where you know the asparagus is. “Here you go.”

Ryan gladly takes it from you with a grin. Huh, maybe there is a Munson who shares your affinity for veggies. It certainly isn’t Luke—or Eddie, for that matter. 

“You’re the best!” he says cheerfully, placing it in the cart that Brittany’s been pushing.

“Boys.” It almost sounds like she’s admonishing them for being kind to you. She looks at you with unkind eyes. “Maybe you should work here instead of for us,” she says, trying to play it off as a joke, but you can tell there’s some underlying threat. 

Luke is not amused by this, his little fingers digging into your leg as he clutches onto your jeans even tighter. “No! She has to be our babysitter forever and ever!” He pouts, eyes welling up with tears at the mere mention of you leaving. 

“Maybe not forever,” Ryan points out, always the practical one, “because one day we’ll be grown-ups with our own kids—”

“And then she can babysit them!” Luke declares, proud of his idea, loosening his grip on you. 

Brittany shakes her head, immediately eschewing the notion. “C’mon, let’s get going,” she says tersely. “Dad’s gonna be wondering where we are.” The cruel curl of her lip serves as a painful reminder of what’s hers; more specifically, what isn’t yours. 

As if on cue, Eddie meanders out from a nearby aisle, a canister of quick oats tucked under his arm. He’s wearing gray sweatpants that lay low on his hips and leave little to the imagination. Somehow on this brisk autumn day you have sweat beading along the back of your neck as you take him in.

“You’re So Vain” fades out on the speakers above, only to start playing the infectious opening notes of “Uptown Girl” by Billy Joel.

“Britt, I couldn’t find the old-fashioned kind, but will this—oh, hey,” Eddie says, stopping in his tracks to acknowledge you. “You here to make sure these gremlins don’t lock themselves in the ice cream freezer?”

Luke grins, lets go of your leg, and takes your hand proudly in his as if it was somehow all his doing that you’re here in the grocery store the same time as they are. 

“Hi,” you greet before realizing you have a dopey smile on your face. “Uh, yeah. And it seems like I got here just in time. This one here almost had the lid off a rocky road before I caught him.” You shake Luke’s small hand in your own for emphasis and the boy wrinkles his nose up at you, the spitting image of his father.

Eddie chuckles and goes to respond, but his wife cuts him off.

“I guess those oats will work,” she says as she takes the canister from him—or snatches it, more like. “Come on, we didn’t even get to the dairy section yet.”

“Or,” Luke ventures, his hand gripping yours tighter in the chill air of the produce section, “we could get a cow in the backyard and get our milk that way.”

Eddie chuckles. “Hard pass, little man. We had to bring in reinforcement just to handle you and your brother.” He looks over and winks at you. 

It takes all of your strength and will power not to immediately vomit right then and there at the wink. Such a simple gesture from this man has you ready to lose all control of your body. 

Brittany huffs, clearly annoyed at the interaction. How dare anyone be having a conversation in her presence that doesn’t revolve around her? 

“Well, we need to keep shopping.” Brittany turns on her heel, spotting a red bag of fun-size KitKats in her husband’s other hand. “And put that back. The last thing you need is more junk food.” Her eyes flit down to his stomach, which has softened with time and a steady diet of pretzels and Mountain Dew.

The tips of Eddie’s ears turn pink, and he tries to hide them behind his curls. He clears his throat, the whole time avoiding your eyes, and tosses the KitKat bag onto an empty spot of a nearby shelf. He’s clearly embarrassed, but you’re seeing red. Fury scorches you from the inside out and it’s so potent that it might just dry up some of the vegetables around you. There have been many times in the past where you’ve wanted to tell Brittany off, but this one takes the cake. The callous yet truthful words rest on the tip of your tongue, but you know it would only make the mess bigger for everyone involved. You don’t want to add any extra stress for Eddie. Brittany is the one who should be embarrassed for treating her husband that way, not Eddie. That man is drop dead gorgeous and he still would be if he inhaled a bag of those KitKats every single day. 

Leave it to Luke to break the tension that he wasn’t even aware of was surrounding them all on this produce aisle. The young boy spies a can of spinach on the shelf and snatches it up, staring at it with wide eyes.

“Will this make me strong like Popeye?!”

“Sure, sweetie,” Brittany says, not paying any attention to her youngest son whatsoever. 

Brittany turns and heads towards the end of the aisle, no goodbye to you, no saying where she’s going, just leaving and assuming the guys will follow behind her. 

“We’ll see you tomorrow after school, right?” Ryan asks, bouncing excitedly on the balls of his feet.

“I’ll be there,” you assure him, booping the tip of his nose. He gives you a quick, strong hug around your middle.

Luke, still holding on to the can of spinach, blows you an overdramatic kiss which you pretend to almost drop into a bed of lettuce. The little boy giggles and it’s one of the best sounds you’ve ever heard. 

Eddie takes a step closer to you, still feeling the sting of embarrassment, and speaks in a soft voice. “We, uh, should get going.” Eddie clears his throat. It kills you to see how Brittany zaps the life out of him. “I’ll—we’ll see you tomorrow, yeah?”

“I’ll be there,” you promise once again. 

Eddie offers you a small smile before turning to his sons. 

“All right, come on. Let’s catch on up to Mom.”

The boys don’t look too enthused about that, and it warms your heart that they’d rather stay here and hangout with you. 

“Bye guys,” you say, waving to all three of them as they head down the aisle.

Once they’re gone you heave a heavy sigh. Being in Brittany’s presence for two minutes was exhausting enough, you have no idea how those three manage to live with her.

You try to refocus on your shopping, however impossible that might seem now. When you’re checking over the items you already have and look back up at the shelves, you spot the red KitKat bag that Eddie had wanted to buy. There’s no hesitation at all to pick it up and add it to your pile of groceries.

The Munson car isn’t hard to spot as you step out into the parking lot of the store. You see it almost every day and the gorgeous, familiar looking man loading groceries into the trunk is also a huge indicator. 

Not surprisingly, Brittany is in the car while Eddie does all the work. The boys are in the backseat and from what you can make out of their silhouettes, they’re arguing with one another. They’re kids, they’d probably be more of a hindrance than help to Eddie. But Brittany could at least be doing something. 

Steeling your nerves, you take a deep breath and head over to him. 

“Eddie?”

His head whips around. “Hey,” he says with a small smile. “Everything okay?”

“Mhm,” you nod, summoning all of your courage and handing him the candy. “You left these on the shelf.” You try to play it off casually, but the slight tremble in your voice gives your nervousness away. 

He starts to take them but pulls back. “I probably shouldn’t,” he mumbles, shoving his hand into his pocket. “Britt’s been on me to lose the ‘dad weight’ for a while.”

You shake your head, mostly to keep from opening your mouth and saying something about his wife that you’ll regret.

“I think you look good,” you say. “Um, like, you don’t need to lose any weight.” You’re perfect the way you are, you ache to tell him, but you shouldn’t. You can’t. 

Eddie senses that you have words unspoken, but he doesn’t press further. “Well, um, thanks.” He takes the bag and opens it, grabbing two before giving it back to you. “Can’t get caught,” he explains with a laugh. 

You grin at him, an idea already taking form. “I’ll bring one each day I babysit. Sneak it in like contraband.”

“As long as the boys don’t find it first,” Eddie chuckles, crossing his arms over his chest. “The last thing they need is more sugar.”

You agree with a laugh. “Deal.”

Eddie tucks the KitKats into his jacket pocket. 

“Thank you, by the way,” he says softly. 

“No problem. Just some candy,” you shrug. 

He shakes his head. “No, it…” he trails off. “Just…thank you.”

You smile as he ducks into the driver’s seat, and you walk back to your own car. As you pack up the back with your groceries, you mentally calculate how long this bag of KitKats will last if you bring Eddie one every day that you work. You purse your lips as you slam the trunk closed.

“That’s not nearly long enough for my liking,” you mumble to yourself as you slip into the driver’s seat.

Once you put the key in the ignition, the car rumbles to life and the purr of the engine sounds like it’s coming from your brain as it churns out an idea. 

You smile to yourself and shift your car into gear.

“Guess I’ll just have to buy some more bags of candy.”

[goodlucktai]

one of the rotten ones

rottmnt word count: 2k pairing: don & leo, don & OC title borrowed from anthems for a seventeen year old by yeule part of the archer au :) read on ao3

x

“I don’t think Gio likes me,” Donnie blurts. 

He’d feel self-conscious if he was pressed to admit it anywhere else, but he’s in the infirmary, and the only one around to hear him say so is his twin. 

They’re moving into hour two of Leo’s “faves” playlist and the fourth consecutive Taylor Swift song even though he swore he put it on shuffle. Leo is going through cabinets and shelves systematically, updating inventory on his phone, while Donnie infodumps about energy storage and projectile dynamics and the breaking strength of crossbow string. 

Donatello’s base knowledge of this particular ranged weapon is severely lacking, which is a significant personal problem for him now that he has a sibling with a preference for archery. He needs to be the world’s leading expert on the subject yesterday. He has half a dozen half-formed plans for things like sonar bolts for 3-D mapping, which may or may not have been inspired by the Jupiter Jim Pluto Vacation run.   

Only every glance at the project folder simply labeled ‘G-01’ causes an uncomfortable feeling to squirm to life in his stomach, not unlike the Krang tentacles that had attached themselves to his carapace on the day the world didn’t end. 

Donnie isn’t good at people. He doesn’t know how they tick, and there are no reliable lines of code or handy user manuals that he can fall back on when he’s mystified by human behavior. 

His siblings don’t have the same problem. Leo is perceptive to a degree that borders upon clairvoyance, Mikey is the single-most emotionally intelligent member of their family, Raph is more charming than he gets credit for, and April can talk her way through any closed door, police tape or VIP-only entrance. None of them fumble the way Donnie does when a social interaction goes off-script, like it’s a volleyball that got served his way without the ample warning he needs to be anything approaching passable at the sport. 

But he knows he’s not imagining it—the way Gio seems to brace himself when Donnie comes into the room, like he’s expecting a confrontation every time. Like the last thing Donatello could want with him is something good. 

Donnie can be a lot. They all can. They come by it honestly, equal parts chaotic lab experiments and their father’s sons. And not every structure is built to withstand hurricane winds. Not every person is equipped to deal with a Hamato level weather event. 

But he has never seen Gio flinch away from anyone else. 

So he did what he always did when confronted by something outside his formidable repertoire—he took it to Leo. 

There had never in Donnie’s life been a problem that couldn’t be made into their problem. It came with twin territory. 

And Donnie’s twin in particular is good at translating Donatello and translating other people for Donatello, and jumps on any chance to be helpful and feel wanted, and absolutely loves problems. It’s one of the most annoying and endearing things about him. If there is any trouble within a hundred miles, Leo will find it. He will worm his way into the center of it and then puzzle his way out from the inside. Most other clever and curious people were satisfied by the daily Wordle; Leo would chew through a wall unless he had something more hands-on to occupy his mind with. As polar-opposite as the two of them could be in, in that regard, they were one and the same. 

It’s somewhat reassuring to Donnie that Leo’s immediate reaction is plain incredulity. He looks baffled, like Donnie has just started throwing stuff around the room for no reason. 

(He knows better. In the medbay, of all places, that would be a death wish. Leo runs a tight ship here and only here.)

“Sorry, you don’t think Gio likes you?” Leo says slowly. “Our Gio? The guy who let you infodump about the mycelial networks of fungi to him for almost two hours, all because Mikey mentioned he was making mushroom stir-fry for dinner?” 

Donnie scoffs, but he can’t help but feel warmed by the reminder. Gio had settled right in, the way he always did once he was sure of his welcome, and watched Donnie talk like nothing more interesting existed on this side of the equator.

“His eyes didn’t even glaze over,” Leo goes on, doing what he always does and pressing the advantage. “That’s a new personal best in this family. Even April started looking for a window to climb out of at the thirty minute mark.”

“There was bound to be at least one other mutant turtle in the New York metropolitan area with an appreciation for botany,” Donnie says imperiously, tilting his chin up. 

But the worry is still there, firmly rooted, trying to flower. Leo must be able to tell because his frown deepens, playfulness evaporating by the second. He pauses the music and sets his phone down. The room rings in the sudden silence, but it’s not uncomfortable, because it’s a room Donnie exists in with his twin. 

“I just want him to like me,” Donnie says. It’s a childish want, it makes him feel half his age, but it’s true. 

He was never one of those human kids lingering near the playground, on the edge of the classroom, desperate to fit in. He was never on the outs because he never had the chance to be. But this is probably what that would have felt like. 

Giorgio is quiet by default, absorbing everything with dark brown eyes, always pausing to think before speaking in a low, flat register that is becoming as familiar to Donnie as Raph’s comforting rumbles and Mikey’s energetic shrieks and Leo’s sweet or sly laughter. 

He hasn’t been anything but kind since he got here. He saved Leo, brought him home from a place it should have been impossible to come home from, so Donatello would put up with any manner of assholery from that quarter in exchange—but it’s not that at all. 

Once Gio’s initial guard goes up and then comes down, once they outlive that moment of consideration that verges upon scrutiny without ever crossing the line, the eldest turtle softens for any younger one like clockwork. He indulges whatever noise or nonsense they’ve brought with them like there is no better use of his time. 

It doesn’t seem like a lie. But Donnie is the least qualified person he knows to make that judgement call. 

There’s a lot at stake if he’s wrong, is all. 

Leo looks like Donnie has taken a melon baller to his insides just for fun. 

“I’d know if he didn’t like you,” Leo says with absolute certainty. And he probably would. And he would take it so personally. He wouldn’t let Gio know a single moment’s rest until the spotted turtle had a coming-to-Jesus moment and acknowledged his wrongdoings in canceled Youtuber apology video format. 

Since that isn’t the reality they live in—and Leo’s daily relentless pestering of Gio is harmless and little-sibling-shaped and decidedly not mean-spirited by any stretch of the imagination—some small part of the tight, unhappy feeling in Donnie’s heart has no choice but to accept that as the compelling argument it is. 

“He probably misses you, Tello,” Leo adds, something softening in his face that it hurts to look directly at. “His you, I mean. I know I would be a train wreck cosplaying as a person if I had to go someplace I’d never see you again. Can you imagine how screwed-up I’d be?”

Donnie’s whole soul shudders at the idea, at the nightmare that almost came true when the portal closed around the Technodrome and as good as severed Donnie clean down the middle. At the glimpse of a life he’d be forced to live with one leg, one lung, one arm, one eye, half a heart. 

“That’ll never happen,” he says, a little too loud. 

“You’re stuck with me,” Leo agrees. He means it, Donnie can tell—even after that almost-nightmare he put his family through, he means it. It’s one thing to take the nuclear option at the actual on-paper end of the world, it’s another to sit in a safe, warmly-lit room with his twin brother and try to conceive of an existence in which their dynamic duo was whittled down to a solo act. 

When they were little, Donnie once tried to explain how big the unobservable universe was. He told Leo that light from the big bang hadn’t reached Earth from all the way over there yet. It was a concept he struggled with as a child, that something could be so unknowable and immeasurable.

“That’s how big my ‘I love you’ is,” he said, all of seven years old and putting it into words the best way he knew how.

“I love you bigger than that,” Leo said promptly. 

“Ugh, you can’t,” Donnie said, frustrated at his twin for always trying to one-up him, for not understanding the huge thing Donnie was trying to compress and fit into his hands. “It’s not possible.”

“It is,” Leo said firmly, eyes gold to match Donnie’s, warm and shining in a way that was all his own. “I do.”

And then Leo went on to prove it. In a way Donnie never would have wanted him to—in an explosion that split the sky and left flash burns in their eyes, and the hollow pain of a surgical removal as the still-beating heart of their family was cut away, and the discordant electronic fuzz where a beloved voice had been rushing through last words, replaced by the sound of a radio without a signal, a device unpaired—but he proved it in a thousand other ways, too. 

He was even proving it now, this afternoon he spent leaning on a forearm crutch and ambling around to various shelves and cabinets to keep up with his stock of medical supplies that had been severely depleted in the weeks after the invasion. Leo had carried bandaids and lidocaine spray in a tiny tote bag since he was two feet tall. He couldn’t stop bad things from happening but he could try to make the bad things better. 

He’s looking at Donnie like he would right every wrong for him if he knew where to start. Like the unobservable universe was small enough to fit in his pocket compared to the lengths Leonardo would go for Donatello. 

Leo is the younger twin, but sometimes the only thing there is for Donnie to do is shuffle over and bonk their foreheads together and believe him. 

“If Gigi hated you, he wouldn’t be a Hamato,” Leo announces, muffled and silly and entirely correct. “It’s a required qualification. You must have missed that meeting with HR.” And then, because it’s important, he whispers, “I promise, okay?”

“Okay,” Donnie whispers back. 

At about that moment, TSwift’s I Think He Knows comes on, proving once and for all that there is actually no way Leo’s playlist is on shuffle. The weighted moment they’re holding on tight to transitions into a lighter one that gets flung haphazardly around as an immediate life-or-death struggle for the phone ensues. 

Stalemate is only reached when Splinter barges in to read them the riot act for daring to roughhouse while they had a non-zero number of broken bones between the two of them. Leo is bright-eyed with mischief and already fast-talking their way out of trouble the same effortless way April can rattle off her brothers’ favorite coffee orders, and Donnie’s worry has been soundly evicted, all its belongings in boxes in the yard. 

Sitting around has never been his style. He’s a turtle of discovery and invention. And now that he’s been reassured that the absolute worst-case scenario is not on the table—that it, in fact, was never on the table to begin with—curiosity rears its head and snaps up the dregs of anxiety like a hungry wolfhound who mistook it for an unattended rack of lamb. 

Hypothesis: Georgie isn’t being weird out of dislike of Donatello. Leo’s certain he’s not, so certain that he was willing to promise, point-blank and absolute, instead of being tricky and sly in the name of cheering Donnie up instead. Leo even offered a much more palatable alternative, but further evidentiary support is required. 

So after dinner a week later, as the whole family crowds comfortably around the banana split bar spilling across the entire kitchen island and argues over which toppings Gio and Casey should stack their bowls with first, Donnie blurts, “Can I see your crossbow?”

Giorgio really is one of the clowns in this circus. He proves it by putting his ice cream down, and picking the bow up from where it was relegated to the bench seat where everyone tosses their coats and shoes when they get home, and passing it right over. No normal person would put a loaded weapon in Donnie’s hands just because he asked nicely. 

As if in tacit agreement, both of Casey’s eyebrows shoot toward his hairline and Raph makes incredulous scoffing noises. April says, “You did not just—” at the same time Splinter blusters, “Purple, you fire that thing off in this house even once and I am grounding you from everything you know and love, including Orange!” and Donnie screeches, over Mikey and Leo’s hysterical laughter, “I can be trusted with projectile weaponry!”

The crossbow has been carefully maintained, but it hasn’t been used in weeks that Donnie is aware of. They’ve all stuck pretty close to home since the invasion, and it’s not like Gio knows anyone but them—it’s not like they need firepower for grocery hauls or pizza runs, though, knowing their luck, that could change any given day. 

But Gio still cleans it regularly, and he’s become a familiar sight at the kitchen table; parts spread out on an oil-stained rag, meticulous and methodical with the one belonging he brought here with him from the future other than the clothes on his back and the colorful friendship bracelet on his right wrist. 

It’s important to him, clearly, but he’s letting Donnie handle it with an indulgent look on his face. Like there are no better hands to leave it in than his little brother’s. 

Because he’s at risk of having a whole emotion about that out loud, where his entire family is assembled to witness it, Donnie quickly turns his mind onto the much safer road of gadgetry.  

He has never actually held a crossbow before, has never built or used one, but he’s been doing a lot of research. He has a lot of ideas. He wants to print mechanical broadhead arrows with explosive tips, or tear gas canisters, or EMP charges. It’s a brand new world of creative chaos and that’s not even touching all the build customizations Donnie has in mind. His fingers are already itching to dismantle and reassemble the machine into something better, something that won’t ever fail, something his big brother will love. 

Only—huh. What feels like a low-level electric current thrums to quiet life like it was waiting to be noticed by the right pair of eyes, just enough of a static shock to get his attention and guide his hand to the rail. Glowing purple does the work of an allen wrench in seconds and a handful of screws clatter to the table. Donnie removes the scope in one sure motion, and moves on to snap the rail from the stock. 

Raph says, low and warning, “Donnie,” intimately familiar with gremlin gadget mode and all the kitchen appliances and shared toys destroyed in Donnie’s early years in the name of science. But he’s not breaking this time, he’s just looking. 

He flips the rail over in his hands and finds the source of that odd electricity-conductive feeling. Hidden on the underside is a small embossed logo that Donnie would recognize anywhere, because it’s his.

“A-ha!” he says, absurdly pleased with the discovery. “A Genius Built mod.” 

The rail was one of the first things he’d had in mind to upgrade, but it looks like he’d beaten himself to the punch. 

“With a custom rail, we can add whatever attachments we want to the stock, way beyond just an average scope or a rangefinder,” Donnie says eagerly, his mind darting ahead in three different directions at once. “The world is our oyster, Georgie!” 

He can’t help grinning. His logo on Gio’s prized possession is that last little bit of evidence he needed. He’s never been happier to be wrong, and will endure Leo’s smugness for an unheard of two entire business days before initiating retaliation. 

No version of Donatello would put that mark on anything unless he really cared about it. 

And Gio wouldn’t lift the rail from Donnie’s hands, and touch his thumb to that stylized “D” as if to prove to himself that it was real, an expression of painful wistful longing on his face, unless he really cared, too.