#would want to frame them and put em in my room too if i could hm

[ryescapades]

g guys …,,.??:!; GU YSGUYS ….

a little rant in the tags bcs im Emotional™️ and so full of love rn

[seraphdreams]

JJK MEN AS YOUR PERSONAL TRAINER. | TOJI FUSHIGURO, GOJO SATORU, CHOSO KAMO, SUGURU GETO.

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — synopsis. having private sessions with the men prove to be an experience. what type of trainer are each of them?

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — cw. smut, edging, degradation, praise, dry humping, fellatio, switch!choso, overstimulation, emo boy!choso, cervix fucking, unprotected sex, they are all whores. mdni <3

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — word count. 3.1k

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 — dolled up! oh em gee ?? headcanon format ? yup! i originally wrote this as a little joke since i started pilates but then my mind wandered and it wasn’t a joke anymore. other than that, ino was supposed to be on the list but he couldn’t make it :( something about being busy .. regardless, comment / reblog if u like ! it would make my day, thank u ���

TOJI — THE CORRUPT TRAINER.

there must’ve been a clear distinction as to why your trainer only allowed sessions from 9pm up until midnight, but your desperation when it came to relentlessly searching for a personal trainer didn’t leave enough room in your mind to think deeper about the true nature of its shadiness. all you needed was a spotter, and toji’s services claimed to provide just that.

and what happens when you combine height, a monsterous build, superhuman stamina, and a handsome face? well, you get toji fushiguro in all his abhorrent glory.

his chiseled body virtually doubled your frame with biceps the size of your head, shoulders wide enough to emphasize the narrowness of his waist, and veins crawling up his limbs even when the muscles weren’t flexed. a mean looking man with a scar over his mouth like some battered veteran. whatever he got into during the day was truly nothing you’d want to take part in.

inviting him over to your home gym was one thing, but it was looking to be another when his “help” took the form of sensuality; his large hands running along the back of your thighs when he’d seemingly fold you over with your legs on either side of your head for warm-up stretches, or even the occasional groping of your ass when it came down to squats, he was barely doing his job, what you paid a hefty price for, and yet you loved every bit of it.

“c’mon, you can take more of it, cant’cha?” toji’s gruff voice goads, watching the way your tiny cunt struggles with swallowing the head of his wrist-thick, bulbous cock. you were put in the awkward position of doggy, yet another one of his sessions derailed and he deemed this new workout could help you build up some much needed endurance. you were going to need it if you planned on keeping him around.

it surely seems that way when you’re practically running from the pleasure he pistons into you, thick cock kissing your cervix with each skillful, angled thrust of his. large hands were wrapped around your waist, keeping you in place for him — because if there was one thing your personal trainer was strict about, it was form. and your form was beyond perfect.

“‘s just too good.” you mindlessly whined, attempting your hardest to grip onto the thin cushion of the yoga mat beneath you. toji lets out a deep scoff at your vocables, driving his hips against your ass once more, this time a bit sharper with a hint of fervor as its aftertaste. “and you’ve been training with me for how long now?” his question came out in a mocking tone as his lips stretched wide in a crooked smile, that of a statement rather than a query.

“t-two weeks .. fuck.” you respond, mind going hazy from the gaining intensity of his potent movements. the feeling was all too much, it came as no surprise when pleasure began to surge from your spine to coil at your core, building up that high you've been chasing for the past hour, that grumpy ol’ toji continued to rip away from you.

pressing a heavy hand to the small of your back, he arches you forward, groaning at the sight of how swiftly you position yourself for him, your face pushed against the mat.

maybe his training has paid off. . “two weeks and you’re still struggling to take my cock?” he pulled your hips back against his, leaving you defenseless in the ministrations. “guess i need to train this pretty little hole of yours more often.”

with the end of his sentence, he snakes his thick arm around your waist, the pad of his thumb finding your achy, puffy clit, rubbing the nub in tight, harsh circles. if your moans weren’t already loud enough, you were sure the whole town could hear you by now, crying out his name like no tomorrow while your legs trembled with your impending orgasm. “‘m cumming! so hard!” you cry, drooling into the mat as he fucks you through your orgasm.

it wasn’t until soon after that he finally reached his high, sending hot and sticky ropes of cum into your womb. not once had a session with toji ended with him shooting his cum in a more responsible way, with a rubber. it was clear to you since the very first time you allowed his fantasies to come to fruition — toji didn’t believe in condoms.

your body went lax as soon as he pulled out, and he tucked his cock back into his pants, hovering over your sad frame with an amused smirk on his scarred lips.

“good session. i expect $800 wired to my account by the mornin’.”

GOJO — THE ENABLING TRAINER.

when you first showed up to the private room of your local gym in search of your assigned instructor for the night a.k.a “the strongest,” you were expecting some big burly man with a cocky attitude — someone you didn’t particularly get along with. but much to your surprise, instead, he was handsome; fluffy white strands of hair that strayed upwards and a million dollar smile with just the charisma, the charm to back it up.

gojo stood over 6 feet tall, and although he was on the lankier side, there was no denying the lean muscles that peeked through his skintight black top. he smiled, throwing a loose cloth over his broad shoulders.

“you ready to get started?”

your eyes greedily took him in, scanning over the finer details of his gorgeous build. it wasn’t until about thirty seconds of daydreaming about what he’d look like unclothed that you finally gave him a response in the form of a nod and hum.

of course satoru wasn’t an idiot, he could tell from how dazed you were during the first few minutes of instruction that you were focused on something else, not that he minds though, it’s truly an honor that a girl as pretty as you is capable of fawning over him, just as many others do.

after having to shake your thoughts whenever it came to watching him take a large swig from his water, droplets of the liquid streaming down his chin to graze his prominent adam's apple, or the soft appraises he’d coo when you finally got the hang of his workouts, it was the end of yet another vigorous session with him, sweat dripping from your chin down to your chest that was scantily clad in a baby pink sports bra. you held on taut to your water bottle as satoru carried conversation with you.

“you improved so much in just an hour. i’m proud.”

his praises barely reached your ears before you looked at him with adoration glossed over those pretty eyes — there was something about him that you just couldn’t get over, but you knew you needed him badly. you dabbed perspiration from your forehead with a matching pink towel, soft smile forming on your doll-like features.

“thank you,”

he nods his head slightly before starting, “you seemed a bit distracted today, though. something on your mind?” his query pulled you from your gojo-induced hypnosis, causing you to blink away the embarrassment pooling up within you. were you truly that obvious?

“hm? there’s nothing, i’m fine,” your reply came out low and sheepish while your eyes struggled to find anywhere else to settle besides those bright baby blues. he took it upon himself to inch closer to you, studying your features until you gasped softly once your back hit the wall. “nothing?” he asks for confirmation, and you affirm. “nothing.”

“all you gotta do is use your words if you need me.”

gojo’s hands found their way at your thighs, creeping them upwards underneath the thin spandex of your shorts. his touch felt hot against your skin, each brush of his fingertips along the expanse of your inner thigh causing shivers to trickle down your spine while he watched with mirth at your pitiful attempt to keep your whines at bay.

“i think .. i think i need you.”

with that, satoru smirked and lifted your leg up just enough so that it fell over his arm. his lips met yours with a salacious that only the whorest of whores could possess, skilled tongue angling its way inside your mouth to gently clash with yours in the sweetest harmony that had you buckling underneath the frame of his body.

it must’ve been a spur of the moment when you found yourself rutting your hips up in search for satoru’s, a pitchy moan sounded into the kiss when he matches your ministrations, grinding his sweatpant clad and half-hard, leaking length into the seat of your shorts; creating the most delicious sensation as the tip nudged against your clit.

his free hand took purchase at your cheek, his thumb rubbing ever so gently against the heated skin while his movements increased in greediness. your mind’s too hazy to make out anything besides the pleasure and build up of your orgasm — so much so, that it pulled you back to reality as soon as it hit, your sloppy kisses coating gojo’s soft lips in a thin sheen and the seat of your shorts sopping wet from the release of your high.

yet, gojo kept at it until he too came to a falter, cumming an ample amount in his sweats while groaning deep into your mouth. he separated from the kiss for just a split second before he took it upon him to goad,

“we can add 30 more minutes and i’ll give you more than just a taste.”

CHOSO — THE INTIMIDATING TRAINER.

a pierced tongue, some tattoos running along both veined arms, and a deep, monotonous voice were a recipe for your timidness when it came to the kamo, who you’d invited over for your very first home training session. it didn’t help that he was on the quieter side, responding to whatever small talk you’d make with one or two words while his intense eyes would follow every move you’d make as he’d help with your form.

he truly wasn’t a bad guy, or so you thought. even now, during your session with him, his praises were appropriate, he wasn’t too handsy nor did he seem to have any ill intent; being with him felt surprisingly comfortable and refreshing just as the crisp, cold water you two were currently drinking, made fresh from your refrigerator’s tap.

“was it too intense?” he’d asked in regard to the exercises you had just completed. intense was an understatement, you didn’t know how you could move your body in such ways that you did, which wouldn’t have been possible without his expertise. choso set the chilled glass of water down onto your coffee table, feeling coy from sitting on your couch, something he’d never done even with his regulars, and in response, you shook your head at the query, settling yourself by his side.

there was truly no denying how absolutely stunning you were, like some angelic being brought to him from the heavens up above in the form of the sweetest thing he’s ever met. he was afraid that if he blinked too hard, you’d vanish.

the more his eyes focused on your lips when you talked, how you’d massage the sore muscles of your thighs and even let out cute whines because of the fact, the more he found it harder to contain his thoughts, rapidfire in his mind. those perverted thoughts that only some horny teenager could have, not a well off adult like him.

yet, it wasn’t enough to stop him from getting hard in his sweats, a dark grey patch spreading at the crotch, what he’d hoped you’d mistake as spilt water.

“shit,” with that of a husky sigh, he ran his hand over his face, tinges of pink battering the tattooed scar across his nose and cheeks. “i’m sorry.”

oblivious to his situation, you were quick to express your inquiry. “sorry about wh- oh.” the head of his cock practically peeked through the barrier of the hem of his sweats while he made a futile effort to cover himself with one of your pillows once you had realized.

he looked cute like that, embarrassed by something so natural that it even spurred on your arousal, the thought of him getting worked up over you doing virtually nothing. “i-it’s okay.. i can help you if you want.” you offer, moving your position to sit between his thighs.

violet hued eyes widened from your newfound boldness, the clearing of his throat being the only true source of sound he could make in that moment.

“nah, nah. it’s-“ before he could inch out the words, you were drawing featherlight circles at his tip over the fabric, causing his breath to hitch and resolve to falter.

choso wasn’t someone who’d allow himself to be in such a pathetic situation, yet the thought of you carrying out his perfect porn plot fantasy was all he needed for that internal morality to fly straight out the window.

you chuckled at the way he hiked himself up when you finally took him from his bottoms and into your hot, wet mouth. just the sight of his cock disappearing past soft, glossy pink lips has his temperature rising, feeling as though he could pass out.

it’s hazy for him — your hand at the base, the rhythmic bobbing of your head slowly while gradually picking up speed. he never would’ve thought the job he took on for extra cash to fund his college textbooks would end up with someone as gorgeous as you giving him a chance. every pump of your hand around what couldn’t fit into your mouth had him groaning, bucking his hips up as gently as he could without battering the back of your throat.

though, he wouldn’t mind if he did.

staving off a gag, you ultimately increased your pace, determined to get him off while your other hand fondled his plump balls.

from the faint touches alone, he could feel his high approaching, embarrassingly quicker than usual. yet, he couldn’t help it when you started to grow sloppy, a mix of spit and precum dribbling down his shaft.

“w-wait, fuck.. ‘m gonna.”

it took no time for him to shoot his seed into your awaiting throat, his head thrown back against the headrest while he bucked his hips to jettison every last drop. you swallowed all he had to offer before pulling away, watching the gentle rise and fall of his chest.

maybe he wasn’t as intimidating after all.

GETO — THE CHARMING TRAINER.

you were his favorite. you had to be. even in the long line of women waiting to have their own turn with him, you were always a top contender. he had always made time for you, and you alone.

geto’s popularity made perfect sense in your mind. he was tall, handsome with narrow features and dragon tattoos strung along both arms, a man ahead of his time. not to mention, his docile, gentle demeanor. he was charming as all get out and you were beyond aware of your superstar status of being the only one he wanted.

“are we actually going to get some training done or is there something else you want to do?” he straps his fingerless gloves around his palm, tank top tight around his torso, carving out each and every trace of his abs while looking over you, a pleasant smile quirked at his lips.

you felt sheepish under his sharp gaze, a feeling that comes all too natural with expert trainer, suguru geto. “i’m fine with whatever you have in mind, sugu.”

if you didn’t know any better, you’d swore you saw his cheeks dust in the lightest shade of pink at the endearing nickname. you were cute, too fucking cute and perhaps, that was the reason he kept you around.

“i’m thinking we test that stamina ‘nd see if you can hold up riding me?” he hooks his finger under your chin, tilting your head up just slightly. “no help, all on your own.” in all honesty, you could definitely take up his challenge. how hard could it be to take some dick?

or so you thought.

“fuck, sugu! ‘s too much!”

you wouldn’t want to be caught dead in the miserable state that you were in but it ultimately did seem as though geto’s lessons had gotten you nowhere. the tip of his cock wasn’t even an inch past your cunt while you rested your hands on his broad shoulders, pathetically trying to take what was the easiest part.

he smirked at you, resting his hands behind his head. “i’m not helping, princess. i meant it.”

you continued to try and sink yourself down onto his unreasonably thick cock, a soft crack of a whine tumbling past parted lips when your pussy engulfed another half inch of him. “but-“

“if i have to help you, we’re not finishing until you’re a mess.” he grits, not harsh enough to come off as daunting but stern enough to warn you. yet, the warning fell to deaf ears when you began to whorishly beg pleas of “help me, sugu. help me.”

from that, he let out a low groan, his hands on your waist sinking you all the way down to the base before he gained stability, flattening his feet onto the floor and fucking his cock into your fluttering cunt.

with the way he moves, you were almost positive you had the wind knocked out of you from those first few thrusts alone. soft babbles resonated throughout the room while you clung to his body like it’d comfort you in the hell that was his potent ministrations.

you felt far more sensitive than you ever felt, white hot pleasure coiling within you in no time, your pussy tightening around his shaft in such a suffocating way, geto felt as though he couldn’t breathe either. “s-so tight, princess. i know you wanna cum, cum for me, baby.” he goads through a strained voice, his thumb now working between your folds to find purchase at your clit, rubbing the puffy nub in moderate circles.

“if you do t-that, i might—“

and before you knew it, you were gushing around his pretty cock, face twisted in the prettiest picture of pleasure. the aftershocks of your orgasm were way more intense as you were fucked to overstimulation, a sly grin on his lips.

“told you we weren’t stopping, darling.”

[thinkinonsense]

Having a fascination with Logan's hands. Particularly on you, or in you, being the subject of many fantasies. But, you're super shy about it, until Logan mentions that he can smell you, during one of your daydreams while you're staring at his hands.

—daydreams l.h.

at first, logan thought he was making things up. his mind playing tricks on him yet again. during meetings and missions, late at night alone, he heard this angelic little voice in his head. like a devil on his shoulder, you shared in detail how much you craved his touch. his hands were so big and strong, rough and veiny with thick fingers. you wanted them everywhere on you; from the tip of your tongue to the inside of your velvet walls.

logan thought he was going crazy until one day, the two of you are sitting across from each other during a meeting. unbeknownst to you, your powers were sending your personal thoughts about logan's hands and what you wish he would do with them into his head. you knew this was apart of your mutation but you've trained to control how you share your powers.

once the meeting was over and everyone filled out, logan followed you upstairs to your room, following the sweet scent of your arousal leaking out of those cute white panties.

"hey, logan." you smile at him once you noticed the shadow behind you. "do you need something?"

he watches your gaze fall down to his hands again. you weren't sure what kickstarted this fire in your tummy when you saw his hands flex and his veins pop out. maybe it was the danger they held. his claws always made you wet. watching them come out during missions always made your brain a little fuzzy. similarly to how your brain felt right now.

—wonder how they would fit inside of me? they're much larger than my fingers. bet he'd know exactly what to do with them. maybe he would put 'em in my mouth for a bit.

"hey, dollface." logan smirks, lifting up your chin to look him in the eye. "i think you're the one in need."

"w-what?" you blush, trying to look anywhere but logan's pretty face. "i don't need any..."

the words disappear into thin air as logan uses his thumb to play with your bottom lip. he can hear your heartbeat pick up as you try to keep yourself contained. your thoughts now filled with fear that logan's figured out your dirty little secret.

"hm, i think you do..." he taunts, getting even closer.

"logan, someone could walk by." you babble against his thumb with big dark doe eyes.

"that shouldn't bother you. probably already projected your thoughts to them too."

you couldn't have been more mortified. how could this happen? what did logan know? he watched with a smile as panic rushed over you, taking the opportunity to open your door and shove the two of you inside.

"wanna explain your daydreams to me, dollface?" he asks, towering over you intimidatingly.

"i'm s-sorry, logan." you pout pathetically. "didn't mean for you to hear me."

"aw, but i think you did."

logan's big frame covers yours entirely. his index and middle finger tap your lower lip until you let him in. the sound of spit and struggle fills the room as you suck on his thick fingers.

"that's it, sugar." he praises. "get 'em nice and wet for me."

the tips of his fingers hit the back of your throat in a way that makes your tummy warm. a groan falls from logan's lips when he looks down and sees you drip his wrist to keep him in the back of your throat until he pulls away. a thick string of saliva connects his fingers to your puffy lips.

the two of you walk towards the bed, where you straddle his waist, messily making out full of desire and neediness. teeth clashing as logan rips your underwear off from under your skirt. you gasp against his lips, making him smirk.

"she's just leakin' for me, babydoll." logan groans finally feeling you the way you've been craving. his fingers slide through your slick causing little moans to leave your lips.

"please, don't tease me lo.." you whine, feeling him circle your entrance, barely pushing in. greedily you clench down on the tips of his fingers.

"shh.." he coos. "she's tryin' to talk to me."

gently, he pushes his fingers into you. a loud squelch fills the room, like music to logan's ears. your nails dig into his shoulders as his fingers hit that gummy spot inside of you. a small cry falls from your lips as logan starts to bounce you softly with his other hand on your waist.

"c'mon, sweetheart..." he teases. "ride my hand like you showed me in your daydreams."

that was more than enough motivation for you to grind down on him until you've set a steady rhythm. logan leaves a trail of hickeys on your neck and down your chest, along your breasts.

"s-shit!" you moan, throwing your head back in euphoria. " 'm close."

in the blink of an eye, logan rolls the two of you over with ease. once your back made contact with the mattress, he starts drilling his fingers into you with passion, needing to get you to your high. logan keeps you legs as far apart as possible and a hand firmly on your hips, holding you down as you cry in pleasure.

"lo!" you gasp, feeling a knot form in your tummy. "p-please."

"atta girl." he smirks, placing a soft kiss to your hip bone and his thumb on your button, circling quickly.

unbeknownst to you, logan was grinding into the mattress for some sort of release. too caught up in the image of you soaking his hand. your nails claw at his wrist as the tightness inside of you finally snapped.

"that's it, good girl." logan marveled, watching your face scrunch up.

once you've come back down from your high, you don't hesitate to reach for logan's slick drenched hand and putting his fingers into your mouth. swirling around the digits in a way that made logan grow impossibly harder.

"f-fuck, you can't do shit like that to me, dollface." he groans, watching you release them with a small pop.

"love these hands." you babble, still slightly fucked out.

"if you love these hands, you'll love what else i have in store for you."

[lavylu]

a thor ideal request where thor loves his midguardian gf, reader's big breast and has kink of fucking his cock between those juicy tits and squirt over them

I like em big, I like em juicy

Okay first of all I love this idea so much. And on a side note as soon as I read it the moto moto sound started playing in my head, so disregard the title

Thor loved you more than anything in the world. He loved the sparkle in your eyes and the warmth of your smile. He loved how you always smelled of vanilla and honey. He loved how you loved him. But most of all he loved your breasts.

He loved their sheer size. The way that they filled his hands and seemed to overflow. They were gigantic and Thor loved staring at them.

In his mind they were perfect, so big and soft. So warm and inviting, begging for him to show them love.

You woke to find yourself alone in bed, Thor’s side empty and cold. You pouted as you felt the sheets. Sometimes he would do this and disappear early in the morning, usually when he was up to something.

As if on cue, the smell of breakfast began to drift up to your room. He always did this, buttering you up before asking for something.

You yawned once before getting out of bed. You put on a pair of slippers and tugged down thors shirt that you had slept in. It hung loosely around your frame.

You sleepily made your way downstairs but you perked up when you smelled bacon. Thor began to hum to himself.

You quietly entered the kitchen, although Thor spotted you. He smiled widely.

“My dear! Come. Eat!”

He gestured to the table where a plate for you was already prepared. You shook your head playfully but took a seat and began to lightly nibble on a piece of bacon.

Thor quickly sat next to you. A smile on his face.

“What do you want? You seem up to something.”

Thor only shrugged his shoulders at your remarks. “Nothing major, there’s just something that I want to try.”

“And what would that be weather boy?”

Thor’s cheeks flushed slightly. “I was thinking that when we made love, I could fuck these pretty tits if yours”

Thor reached a hand up and gently grazed your chest. He gave a cheeky squeeze before going back to eating. He looked up at you expectantly, waiting for an answer.

You raised an eyebrow in thought. “You know what, I’m done”

Thors face broke out into a huge grin as you push your breakfast away.He stood up and completely disregarded the table as he pulled you towards him.

His large hands circled your waist as he began to kiss your neck. He began to lay you down on the table, pushing bowls away.

A few clattered to the floor but he didn’t seem to notice. Instead he was too focused on getting you out of your (his) shirt.

He pulled it off quickly causing you to giggle. “Someone’s eager”

Thor just chuckled at your teasing. Your giggles stopped though as soon as he stroked your nipples. Each one hardening under his fingertips.

He pinched them softly, rolling them in his fingers. He bent over and began to kiss your sternum while making sensual eye contact.

He pulled away. “You’re so beautiful baby. Now can you do something for me?”

As he asked this he began to pull down his pants.

You nodded your head. Thor just smiled

“I need you to hold your tits together. Can you do that for me?”

When you squeezed your boobs together Thor just smiled. He gently ran his hand down your jaw, “good girl”

While you were looking at him you didn’t notice him freeing his cock. Suddenly it was just against his stomach.

Thor began to stroke himself making him harder and harder. Once he was as fully hard he walked around the table so his cock was by your head.

He shoved his cock at you causing it to land on your face. You gasped and tried to give it a kiss but he tsked “oh no baby, I’m fucking your titties”

He slowly teased his cock at your cleavage. Slowly he began to thrust in, each thrust causing his balls to drag on your face.

Thor smirked as he heard you gasp. “That’s a good girl”

His thrust began to quicken, each one getting more powerful than the last. Soon he was jack hammering into your cleavage, dragging his balls across your face.

He forced your head back giving himself more access. Soon he was fucking you as full speed. Each thrust bringing him closer to the edge.

You heard him moan out as his climax came. Warm cum squirted on your chest. His wet sticky substance coating your warm skin.

Thor stepped back after a moment and admired his work. Your boobs looked even better than before, all nice and round and covered in his semen

[jtstoryweaver]

Child or Double, Part 2

(Part 1 of this story is here.)

You pull the old children's clothes out of your dryer and hold them up critically. They'll be a bit big for the girl, but they'll do well enough for now.

"Little sister, are you around?" you ask the empty hallway.

There's a shuffle behind you, and you turn to see two young girls behind you, hand in hand. The one on the left is warier, while the one on the right is flickering gently—here one second, faded the next. You offer the clothes to the child on the left.

"Could you please take these to your sister? If she wants to come out of her room, I'll be making breakfast in a minute. If not, you can take her breakfast up to her."

Little eyes squint at you, and the girl on the left takes the clothes silently. The pair vanish, clothes and all.

As promised, you head downstairs and start clattering around with plates and pans. Pancakes, you think; even if the terrified child in Alan's old bedroom doesn't want any, the rest of your children will happily clean them up. They don't <em>need</em> to eat, but some of them enjoy it anyway.

There's a shuffling noise on the landing above, and light footsteps pad hesitantly down the stairs. You make sure to pretend you haven't noticed, moving to the far side of the kitchen before looking towards the door.

Two wide brown eyes peek back at you from around the door frame, and you smile. "Hello," you offer.

"'lo," she whispers.

"What would you like to eat?"

Her gaze darts towards the heaped platter of fresh pancakes. "You made pancakes."

You nod, setting the plate on the kitchen table and taking the milk out of the fridge. "I did, but you don't have to eat them if you don't want to. My kids are very happy about finishing off any leftovers."

Tiny white teeth dent her lower lip. "Cereal?"

"You can absolutely have cereal," you agree, opening the cupboard so that she can see the selection. "What kind?"

She points at the rice pops, and you pour them into a bowl and add milk.

A little more of her is visible now, and her bright red top tells you that she's wearing the clean clothes you sent. There's a pang in your heart, pain mixed with pleasure at seeing Alan's clothes on another child. "Are you comfortable eating at the table, or would you prefer to take them back to your room?"

Her eyes widen even more. "What if I get milk on the carpet?"

You smile, putting her cereal on the table and then backing off. "I promise you, that carpet's been through worse than a little spilled milk. I can always scrub it later."

Her lips press together in determination and she marches out into the kitchen. You half expect her to grab the bowl and spoon and scurry back to her room, but she pulls herself up onto the chair and digs in.

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes. So brave, this little one.

A moment later, part of the reason for her courage walks through the kitchen door. It's the girl's Doubler, still hand in hand with the child who used to look like Alan. "Is there room for us?" the girl's Doubler asks.

"Always, sweetheart," you tell her. The girl scrambles up next to her sister, the still-flickering child perforce taking the next seat along. You're almost certain that the additional child is Duncan, the Doubler who haunts your attic.

You're proved right a moment later when Duncan looks up at you. "M-mom? Is it okay if I look like this?"

"Of course it's okay," you reassure the most nervous of your children. "You can look like whatever you want. Did you want a new name?"

"N-no." Wonder of wonders, Duncan smiles tremulously at you. "I like being Duncan. I just like being a girl too."

"I'm proud of you, my daughter," you assure her.

Not being particularly demonstrative, Duncan looks away shyly. But the little smile is still on her lips, and she stops phasing in and out of reality.

The girl, who's about halfway through her cereal, pauses to stare at you. "What's your name?" she asks.

"Elaine," you say, leaving it open as to whether the girl tells you her name in return.

She nods. "I'm Diana."

From across the kitchen, you nod in acknowledgement. "I'm pleased to meet you, Diana."

Duncan nudges the Doubler sister. "Do you have a name?"

"No," she says, her lips turning down in a pout.

"Sara!" Diana declares. "I always wanted a sister called Sara."

The newly named Sara lights up. "I like it!"

Milk splashes on the table when Diana drops her spoon to hug her newly named sister, but you're not worried. Like the carpet in Diana's room, the table's seen much worse than a little spilled milk.

~

(Okay, breakfast went on longer than I expected and I have more story to tell, so keep an eye out for Part 3!)

[apt502-if]

i would like to request a “what’s so special about you, anyway” dialogue between L and Rainn please 🙏🙏

this is a good one! I took that as a L/Rainn POV so no MC? Interesting! This one isn't as serious as you may have wanted, mostly because as I was writing I realized it may get into spoiler territory! So it's just quick and short :}

The elevator dings its arrival to the fifth floor, and the doors open to reveal Rainn Moreno standing to the very left, their head bent down on their phone. L groans inwardly, but keeps a pleasant smile on their face, the expression only growing when Rainn looks up, meeting their gaze.

No words aside from a small 'Good Morning' from Rainn are exchanged as L slides in, seeing the LOBBY button already lit. The doors close, leaving Rainn and L alone.

L can't help but soak in Rainn's six foot frame, their body straight and with a posture so perfect it could put L's model friends to shame. L wrinkles their nose at the thought. They're not sure they ever liked Rainn. Too...stiff for their taste. No wonder they're such good friends with Cal. Both uptight.

As if sensing their stare, Rainn stops and awkwardly flicks their eyes to L, who doesn't look away. Instead, L only lifts their brows in a mocking move that makes Rainn shove their phone in their bag, raising their chin.

"Nice out today, isn't it?" Rainn says, as if that's what L was looking for: small talk. Typical Rainn Moreno. They're always looking to please, to fulfill whatever want or need someone has. So unflinchingly polite. It would be annoying if L didn't believe it was genuine. How can you be mad at such a stickler like Rainn when that's just how they are? Can't blame em.'

"Uh-huh," L says, facing the door. They feel Rainn looking at them a second longer.

"Is there something you need?" Rainn says, their voice squeaking into an awkward dip. When L looks again, Rainn is annoyingly open, looking at L with bright eyes that swim with confusion. They don't get this person....so hard to read but so easy at the same time. Doesn't make sense.

Maybe L's annoyance comes from Rainn's good looks. Pretty people are always the worst.

I would know.

In reality, they know that's just a cop out. In reality, it's because L had to witness their new roommate have a breakdown at four a.m., waking up the whole apartment in the process. In reality, L can't seem to put their finger on what makes Rainn Moreno so great.

"Not really," L says. "I'm just..." They suck in a breath through their teeth, shrugging their shoulders in a dramatic move that's meant to be humorous. "I'm just trying to figure out what's so special about you, that's all."

Rainn's eyes widen. "Excuse me?"

L's face falls and they look at Rainn with as much annoyance as they can muster. "Oh, please," they deadpan. "Don't act humble."

Rainn opens their mouth, but no words escape. They shut their lips before shaking their head once and blurting out a small: "What?"

L sucks in a sharply through their nose. "All MC could do was talk about how amazing you are. It was annoying, considering they were cutting into my beauty sleep."

Rainn's brows knit together, and L catches them smoothing down their shirt. "Really?" they ask, voice quiet.

The elevator doors ding open. And L steps out, waving a hand behind them. "I'll bill you for the hotel room I've inevitably going to get if I keep losing sleep. See you."

Rainn steps out, waving awkwardly. "Uh. Sorry? Bye!"

[punsmaster69]

1/OCT/20XX

it's officially october now, so me and paps are putting out the halloween decor.

feels hard to believe it's even autumn at all already, but maybe that's 'cuz the leaves haven't changed yet. guess they missed the memo.

after the events of last wednesday, it's been kinda hard to message tori myself. she's a stronger monster than me though, 'cuz now she's casually texting me, talking about these little paper ghosts frisk made.

"Perhaps they would be willing to show you and Papyrus how to make some. ]:)"

"don't know how much they'd wanna see me again right now"

"Then.. they do not have to see 𝘺𝘰𝘶."

"?"

"If Frisk is not here, I may need an extra set of hands to help finish decorating."

somehow, i agreed to come over before having the chance to even give it a second thought.

she must've asked frisk pretty quickly about the ghosts thing, 'cuz the kid was long gone by the time i got to tori's house.

tori was carrying these giant boxes labelled "halloween" out onto the yard.

"heya tori."

"Ah! Sans, hello! There are a few boxes left that I think you can manage, they are in the living room."

"got it."

i got the boxes from the living room and set them by the front door.

trying to detangle a black and orange garland, tori called me over.

"Sans, could you help me with these?"

nearly tripped on a vine going down the porch steps, but when i went to go see where the vine was, it was gone.

i grabbed one end, and tori untwisted the other. she wrapped the detangled garland into the branches of the biggest tree in her front yard.

we repeated the process a few more times until most of the smaller nearby trees were also thoroughly halloween-ified.

"Now we have just got to do the house!..But, it is a bit taller than either of us, is it not?"

"you got a ladder?"

"Yes,"

she pointed at a folded step-ladder resting against the house.

"but it is a human one, so I'm afraid it doesn't quite hold my weight."

she unfolded it, and set the step-ladder in front of me.

"You are about human sized, will it work for you?"

standing on the ladder, i was only as tall as toriel is while standing on the ground.

at this fact, she had to try and (unsuccessfully) stifle a laugh.

"Hehe! Is the weather much better up here?"

i poked her in the forehead.

"nope, but i can do that now."

tori leaned towards me until she was about two inches from my face.

"You know what else you can do now?"

so i leaned forward....

lightly bonking my forehead off of hers.

"headbutt you at equal height."

"Ah! You-"

"𝗛𝗘𝗬, 𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗦𝗛𝗕𝗔𝗚!!"

flowey suddenly shouted from behind a closed window.

tori opened the window and scolded him.

"You should not use insults! If you wanted the window opened, a simple 'please' will do."

he just rolled his eyes.

"Please apologize to Sans."

flowey glared at me, then looked at tori, then mumbled out a small 'sorry'.

"Thank you."

she stepped back onto the yard.

"Now, what of this roof situation?"

"someone around here probably has a ladder-"

"I know! I could lift you up, and you can string the garland!"

from the window, vines suddenly shot across the yard.

they grabbed the decorations, hastily hanging them from the roof.

"Ah... thank you, Flowey."

he just glared at me.

tori opened a box containing many yard standees. me, tori, and flowey stuck 'em all across the yard.

a zombie by the tree, werewolf prowling the treeline, ghosts haunting the stairs, and... a skeleton buried head-down in the dirt.

toriel put all the empty boxes on the porch, doing one more sweep of the area to make sure she didn't miss any.

i sat myself on the porch railing near the window flowey was in.

"that everything?"

"It would appear to be! Thank you for the help, Sans."

flowey loudly fake-coughed.

"...And thank you too, Flowey. Would you two like some hot chocolate?"

"yeah, but... can flowers even drink hot chocolate?"

"YOU DON'T EVEN HAVE A 𝙎𝙏𝙊𝙈𝘼𝘾𝙃!"

she paused in the front door frame.

"If you can't get along, nobody is getting any."

"hey, it was a genuine question."

flowey did something that resembled crossing his arms with his vines, but stayed quiet.

"Thank you."

she went inside, leaving me and flowey alone on the porch.

he watched as she went inside, making sure she was out of earshot before speaking.

"What's your deal, anyway?"

"bout five bucks."

"I- ...What?"

"take it or leave it."

"No, like what do you want with Toriel?"

"i don't have some secret ulterior motive, if that's what you're trying to imply."

"Well you can't just be 'friends'!"

"why not?"

"FRIENDS don't start taking off their clothes as soon as they're alone!"

"guess frisk has started spreading rumors, then."

i sighed and turned to face flowey on the windowsill.

"my shirt got caught and tore. 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙩'𝙨 𝙖𝙡𝙡."

"Yeah, right."

"you can ask her yourself."

"Fine! I will! ...Later!"

he went surprisingly quiet for a bit.

".....What do you see in that old lady, anyway?"

"a friend."

"Why?"

"well, she's someone i can depend on."

"Can't Papyrus be that?"

"sure. and he is."

"Then what makes her any different from him?"

"papyrus is.. very high energy."

"Duh-"

"he's got a lotta big ideas. 'head in the stars,' and all. 'course, i love him for it, but sometimes...."

"you need someone a little more down to earth. balance it out, y'know?"

flowey was silent.

"..... she's a good lady. treat her well, alright?"

"You're making it sound like you're leaving."

"guess it did come across that way."

"...nah. i'm plannin' on hanging around a while longer."

"Yeah, you're too in love with Toriel to leave anywhere even a mile away!"

"nuh uh."

"Wh- 'nuh uh'?? Are you four?"

"turned five last april."

"THIRTY-five, maybe! You look ancient."

"hey, for a thirty five year old, i'd say i'm aging pretty well. i still don't have a single wrinkle."

"You're ACTUALLY thirty five?? Jeez, you really 𝘈𝘙𝘌 ancient!!"

"right within tori's age range, though."

he socked me in the chest with a heavy vine, knocking me into the bush just below the railing.

"STOP. UN-HAVE A CRUSH."

"haven't anything of the sort."

"BACK OFF MY MOM THIS INSTANT."

"..You consider me to be your mother?"

i heard tori's voice approach.

"Y-You must've. Misheard me."

"ok mama's boy."

"CAN IT, TRASHBAG."

"..If you wanted to refer to me as your mother, I would certainly not mind."

she leaned over the railing, spotting me in her bush.

"Is that more comfortable?"

"i fell."

i got up from the bush and went back up the stairs onto the porch. tori handed me a warm cup of hot chocolate.

"Yeah, fell 𝘪𝘯 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦! He totally has a giant-"

i shut the window, drowning out the sound of his voice.

"...a giant love for cocoa."

"?"

"I-I see.. I did not know you had such a fondness for hot chocolate."

flowey banged on the window, and tori opened it again.

"You 𝗮𝘀𝘀𝗵𝗼𝗹𝗲!"

"Flowey!"

"yeah, you better watch your damn language."

"Sans! Both of you need to watch your language. Do not make me rinse your mouths with soap!"

"i mean. you can try."

"Then.. a grounding?"

"flowey's already pretty 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘥. kinda 𝘴𝘰𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘥 that idea."

flowey grimaced, and tori laughed.

"I suppose I will let you two off the hook, just this once. I hope this will not become the 𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘵 of a swearing problem!"

"Eugh. Nevermind. Close the window back."

he used two vines to lift himself off the windowsill back into the house, taking his mug with him.

me and tori chatted until it started getting dark.

"...I suppose you have to get home soon, do you not?"

"i'd stay longer, but i'm pretty sure frisk'll probably be here soon."

"Thank you again for your help today."

"bug me anytime, ok?"

"..Have a safe walk home, Sans."

she brushed my hand with hers.

i suddenly became aware of how close together we were sitting; aware of the strange fluttering in my chest.

".....seeya, tori."

i got up and rushed home before i could say something stupid.

...

flowey's words about crushes 'n love and whatnot..

.....

..........

nah.

he probably just hit my ribs too hard.

[ghosts-and-apple-pie]

Okay, so the concept of Michael somehow ending up in the foster system has been spinning around in my brain like a little dish in the microwave for the past several hours, but I can't draw so I've reached the conclusion that it's time to try and dust off my old creative writing skills to get this out of my brain-

Welcome to my foster kid Michael AU that's a result of my foster kid ass wanting more foster kid rep that *isn't* just ones who run away from every home and eventually find The Good One(tm)

CW for mentions of death because this takes place shortly after the bite of '83.

~~~

Fourteen-year-old Michael sat in the social worker's office at his middle school. It wasn't his first time here, not by a long shot. Honestly, you'd think he would be used to it by now. To an extent, he is- he knows the routine of things he's meant to say, the list of things his father has told him to lie to the DCFS caseworkers about, the same questions repeated every time.

"Are you eating well?

"Yes."

"..and sleeping well?"

"Yes."

"Do you feel safe at home?"

"Yes."

Michael isn't completely lying. Yeah, his home life isn't great. He knows that. He knows it could be better, but he's happy with life the way it is. Besides, he's got a roof over his head and a bed- plus, some kids have it worse. Honestly, all he has to do is stay out of his dad's way when he's upset. That's not that bad, right?

"Okay.." the caseworker nods, writing down a few notes on her clipboard.

Michael knows this is typically the point where they determine nothing is wrong, and the interview ends. He's been through this song and dance one too many times. He grabs his backpack and starts to put it on.

"Can I go back to class now?" he asked, although he wasn't waiting for an answer. He was already up, standing by the door, his backpack slung over one shoulder.

"Actually, I have a few more questions for you, if you wouldn't mind sitting back down, Michael," the caseworker replied calmly.

Michael hated how calm every caseworker on Earth was. They act so casual, like if you don't say one wrong thing your whole life won't be uprooted. he sighed and sat back down.

"I had a few questions regarding your father's diner. Can you tell me about it?"

This was a new one. Michael was not prepared to answer this- what's the right thing to say here? He thought about it for a moment. It's not his house, so whatever he says should be fine, right? It's not like they can put him in a foster home because his dad's a garbage businessman, right?

"I uh- okay, well.. My dad usually brings.. or uh, brought, I guess.. Evan and me to the diner while he worked- it had pizza and an arcade and stuff, so we were fine. We'd always have other kids to talk to, too" he hesitantly replied, trying his best to frame their family's diner in the best light possible.

"And did you feel safe there?"

Michael hesitated. Did he feel safe there? He knows she wants to hear yes. That's the answer they always want. That's the answer he decides he should give.

"...Yes..?"

It came out far less confident than Michael had hoped, but he's hoping she'll buy it. There's a few other questions asked, but they're all a blur, really. Stuff about Evan, stuff about the animatronics, stuff about whether or not there were adult employees watching them.

Michael walks out of the room around half an hour later, unsure of what to think of all the extra questions he was asked. That's never happened before, but then again, his brother dying was a pretty big deal. That was his fault though, not his dad's! They can't take him away for that, right?

"Right..?" he thought to himself, standing in front of his grandparents' house with a duffel bag full of his stuff less than a week later.

~~~

I will for sure be writing more soon!! Just had to yell my thoughts into a void somewhere, get 'em out into the world. Thank you for reading this far!!

[inevitablestars]

HEY LINDS this is my Official Attempt to sway you towards perciver i hope you like it and that it doesnt turn you off them forever, now first off!

general relationship potential:

percy and oliver are in the same year and as far as we know they are the only boys in gryffindor in their year which makes them not only roommates but also the only boys in their room. for seven years.

percy is incredibly misunderstood by his whole family pretty much always, they all avoid him or are rude to him or just misunderstand him completely. with oliver's proximity its very likely hes the first person ever in percys life to properly observe him and understand him!!!

percy is the most career driven singleminded ambitious motherfucker in gryffindor.... second only to oliver!!! who is the most quidditch obsessed bitch on this planet and arguably has more solid career goals of anyone in that entire series. they are hyperfocused! they are girlbossing! they are not getting a wink of sleep bc they both get so lost in their work they forget what time is!

classic jock/nerd combo except oliver is a jock who is secretly a nerd (think of all the quidditch stats!!) and percy is a nerd who is secretly a jock (percy is a master spellcaster and nobody can convince me otherwise, that man fought multiple death eaters on his own at the battle of hogwarts and you do not get that kind of skill from just sitting behind a desk)

idk theres honestly a lot of directions one could take them but theyve just got so much chemistry and so much in common but also different and theyve got so much potential

(in my head they are the definition of autism/adhd solidarity but i know that not everyone hcs them that way which is cool too)

now for fic recs!!!

Twenty-nine - 85k - Endrina

percy weasley-centric fic that is honestly one of the most creative interpretations of him ive ever read, it goes deep into his past and his canonic decisions and stuff but theres a twist to it that is just gold, also its a whodunit where oliver's been framed for murder and only percy knows hes innocent its very very good and definitely played a huge part in me falling in love w percy's character

A New Life - 89k - AnotherAuthor, myroaringtwenties

percy and oliver meet post-war and help each other get their lives moving forward again, its very well written and very sweet but mind the tags its kinda heavy at points, it doesnt shy away from how hard the war was on everyone but the community that the weasleys and the quiddich players have is very warm and i love it

At least he has great abs - 12k - Irisen

this one is a cute shorter nonmagic soulmate au where oliver is a famous footballer and percy is a politician and they end up being soulmates, its very funny and light and i just enjoy it

(also i am technically writing a perciver fic rn its called Rely On Me and the first two chapters are up on ao3 but its my first fic attempt and i havent updated it all summer bc Life so pls dont feel obligated to read it i just felt like it would be weird if i didnt mention it)

anyway! i hope you enjoyed this if nothing else and if you read these or find other perciver fics or just wanna talk about em lmk bc i am always down to talk perciver i love them with my whole heart and soul <3

josephine hello. is this from literally ten months ago? perhaps it is. but i'm here now.... you mentioned perciver earlier and it reminded me that this has been sitting in my inbox for SO LONG

alright let's get into this

• iconic of them to be alone in a dorm for seven years together that already screams soulmates

• you're so right these two get their minds set on something and they're going to get it they're going to achieve whatever they want (tbh i already think they should put that energy toward like Getting Together but i distress)

• nerd jocks! a slay tbh

• i see the autism adhd thing i get it

• i also think like yeah i agree they have a lot in common when you dig into them but from one glance it's like ? these two? really? but then you see who they are at their core and it's like oh of course how could you think anything else (i have a lot of characters and dynamics that this sorta concept applies to i get it)

also love the inclusion of fic recs which i will check out when i am back to reading <3 consider myself convinced (it did not take much you already convinced me by just sending this ask)

[sabraeal]

All Pain Will Turn to Medicine, Chapter 8

[Read on AO3]

Written for the birthday of our favorite Australian, @meibemeibelline! It has been over a year since I have gotten a chapter of this one out (after being SO sure I was going to finish it in 2023 ha. ha. ha.) and after worrying that I might not have enough of a first draft to cover the whole content of this chapter...went and had to cut it in half again to keep this chapter from growing out of control 🤣

Herr Kruger’s inn towers over the other buildings in the quarter; three full stories stacked one atop the other like layers on a cake, its peaked roof jutting higher still. Half-timbered, like all the stores on the square, but not just the simple cross-hatched frames used to shore up the plaster. No, these were all arches and stars and clovers, as prettily patterned as the gingerbread houses in the pastry shop.

“There’s four floors,” Herr Kruger corrects, stairs creaking beneath his feet. “A fifth, too, if you don’t mind the rafters squeezing in on you. Pavo kept his room there for a while, before he nearly put his head through the roof.”

Anda may snort, but it’s not some fatherly boast. He’d broken skin— enough to have his mother sobbing, thinking his brains might be next, but it’d barely been more than a scratch, not deep enough to need stitching. Shirayuki had been the one to ruffle the plaster from his hair, giving a soothing cluck when he bleated out, don’t tell Herr Anda. She rubbed some salve into it, and with a firm recommendation to stick to higher ceilings, let it close up all on its own.

“The old building here has a half dozen rooms,” Herr Kruger presses on, leading them out onto the landing. “It’s the original inn, back from when my opa built it. But the new extension’s got twice that. Bigger ones, too.”

New extension, Oma would huff at the very whisper of the words. That old thing has been squatting here since before you were a twinkle in your father’s eye. Had the quarter split right down over the middle over it, when they put it up— half of them could hardly wait to tap a new keg to celebrate, and the other stood out on that very street and cursed the name Kruger down to its cornerstone. Your grandfather right at the head of them, of course.

A misty look would roll over her then, a wistful smile curling up at the corner of her mouth. Some days I used to wonder if they’d settle it the whole business with their fists. But it never quite came down to that. Pity, really.

“Bigger?” Anda cranes his neck around a jamb to give the room a cursory look. “Seems fine enough to me.”

Herr Kruger hooks his hands on his hips, a sigh blustering out from between his lips. “Most custom that stops in now has a man or two with them. For safety, mind you. A servant sometimes, or a guard, maybe both. Want ‘em to be as close as a good yell.”

It’s hardly the first time Shirayuki’s shuffled down the extension’s spine— they’d play here in the slow season, her and Pavo and a handful of the other children around their age, racing down the runner and pretending they were trapped inside some great cat, all curled up right against the street. But it’s never been so empty, so quiet that every footstep echoes down the hall, announcing her approach as gustily as a herald might a king.

The staccato taps of Anda’s cane burst like firecrackers into the silence, pop-pop-pop, too loud as he lingers at a threshold, his brows bent over a bemused hum. Already she can see the protest brewing behind his rumpled mouth, frustration fomenting before reason can react. Too many floors. Too many rooms. We’d be on our feet more often than we’d be off them.

Shirayuki sidles up beside him, peering over— or rather, around his shoulder. Anda may have stooped and she might have grew, but he still stood a head taller, able to see eye-to-eye with Obi while all she managed was an aching neck. “I suppose we wouldn’t have to worry about beds.”

He startles, annoyance hissing out between his teeth. “Beds, ha. This thing keeps on like it has and we’ll be adding them. Might even be best to put a few pallets in each room to start, keep down on the pacing. In the field hospitals, they’d have them laid out in one big room, a dozen rows deep, so all you had to do was look out and know where you were needed. Never more than a few steps from one beside to another…”

“’And the flux and flu could stretch their legs just as easily as we could.’” Shirayuki smiles up into his scowl. “That’s what you would always tell me, isn’t it, Meister?”

“I suppose I did.” He grunts, blowing a breath through thinned lips. “All right, Herr Kruger. You said there’s a back stair, isn’t there? Let’s see if it’s any more convenient than that death trap you had leading up.”

There’s a little knot beneath her breast as she watches him hobble off, putting force behind each tap of his cane. The hunch of his shoulders tells her she’s pinched his pride, and his sour stamp says he wants her to know it, to feel bad for the old man whose honor she’s impugned. She doesn’t, of course— he’s a petty little porcupine of a man, Seyha would tell her whenever she could settle long enough to bend her ear, it’s best not to give in to his sulks— but the light catches more gray the brown these days, and she’s come to suspect that cane has become more crutch than affectation, and--

And her fondness chokes her, right there in the door.

“Are you coming, girl?” he calls out, the clacking of his cane more cross by the word. “I didn’t bring you to test out the beds, too!”

Shirayuki smothers her smile. “In just a minute! I was…”

Her gaze drops to her skirt as she turns, trying to make sure she doesn’t catch herself on the doorway— she’s done that more than once here, the jambs always set a little too high or the latches reaching out just a little too far— but a ripple on the wall distracts her. Paper peels back from the plaster, and beneath it lay a pock-marked scar, a divot poorly patched.

The crater sits smooth beneath her fingertips, a little wider than two of them pressed together. It’s impossible to resist the twitch at the corner of her lips, to keep it from slanting into the softest smile. That had fit her whole hand once, fingers spread as wide as starfish as she marveled at the dint Pavo had made with just the top of his head. She’d been smaller then, and the wound freshly made; Pavo had cried thinking of the way his mother would scold them for sliding down the runners, trying to see how far they could go before either the carpet or their knees gave out. Neither of them expected the wall to give first. She couldn’t have been more than eight summers then, maybe nine, Pavo just a year older, and Obi—

She blinks. Obi hadn’t been there. It’d be years yet before he came, undersized and underfed, bleeding buckets on Herr Anda’s table. Those small hands hadn’t yet sewn flesh, hadn’t yet learned how to coax a reluctant cat of a boy into a bath, hadn’t yet become hers, with all the nicks and calluses and scrapes that made her Shirayuki.

And that’s the crux of it, isn’t it? It seems impossible that Obi wasn’t beside her then, because for as long as she’s been Shirayuki, there’s been an Obi just a few steps behind, a taunt poised at the tip of his tongue. In her memory, he's at her shoulder, helping Pavo to his feet and chuckling at the way he stumbled. She can see it so clearly; that same face just at the cusp adolescence, fat clinging to his cheeks even as the bones beneath tried to angle themselves into sharper planes. The odd stretch to his long bones, despite being the smallest in his year, like they were coiled for the growth spurt that would shoot him to a man’s height, just another summer or two away.

If he wasn’t with her then, then that means they were once separated. A tea cup without its saucer, a right hand without a left. And if they were once…

Then that means they could be again.

“Shirayuki.”

Her breath catches, fingers snapping away from the plaster. It’s too late, a polished cane lingers between her toes; when she looks up, there is Anda, far too much understanding in his dark eyes.

“Meister!” she gasp, gripping her skirt in both hands. “I…sorry. I’m coming…”

His palm lifts up, halting her where she stands. “No need, girl; the deed is done. Probably walk across the city twice each day all put together running ourselves ragged down these halls, but this old pile will do for our purposes.” His shoulders shrug, more agitated than resigned. “Not likely to get a better offer anyway. And we can’t pack them all in the apothecary like cord wood, now can we?”

“Ah…” Her mouth falls open, just a bit, before she catches it. “I suppose not.”

“That’s right.” His cane rattles in his hand, knocking against the floorboards. “Which means we’ve got to have the stocks to treat them. Last I checked we were running low on mallow and sweet flag. Certainly not enough to treat the whole quarter if they come begging at our door.”

“Ah…?” Her eyelashes flutter, gaze tracking from one end of the hall to the other. “But don’t you need help relocating what we have? The drawers—?”

“Kruger’s young buck will do me well enough, and some of the stablehands besides. Not like they’ve got much else to be doing.” He huffs, blustering in his usual way. “You’ll serve me much better out in those reeds, doing the things an apprentice is meant to do.”

“But, Herr…”

“Shirayuki.” His dark eyes rest on her, concerned and contrite all rolled into one. “Am I a gentle man? A generous employer?”

The answer to both is yes. Anda might be an exacting one, not given to coddling or comfort, but in the six years she’s been his apprentice, she’s never worked a single festival. When her hours began to stretch deeper into the night, he made a bed for her, a second home to keep her from needing to walk dark streets to her door. He might snipe at Obi when he lingers, but he’s never shooed him either, simply finding jobs that needs a young man’s strength and putting him to work.

There’s a hundred other small kindnesses that come to mind— her afternoons off, when the weather is fine; how he’s always peckish when the bakery’s at a lull and she can grab more than just a pie and few words at the counter— but she’s learned: in this and this alone, Anda prefers the expected over the earnest.

“No.” This lie is as poorly done as all her others, but this, at least, is one he wants to hear. “Of course not, Meister.”

“Then go take your afternoon already,” he grumbles, shoulders hunched around his ears. “Before I change my mind and make you count sprigs.”

*

This early in autumn, the trees cling to their summer plumage, the nights not yet cold enough to gild green to gold, and for gold to ignite into fiery reds and orange. At yet, when she arrives at the water’s edge, struggling through some stubborn tall grass overgrown from the late summer rains, it’s not green and gray that ripples across its surface. No, the vibrant blooms of marsh chestnut clinging to their rafts of spade-shaped leaves. They float at the deepest parts, bobbling like the candles children send across it at Samhain; it’s no river to guide wayward souls, but they make due. Shirayuki, for her part, has never heard a soul complain.

She’s tempted to, however, taking in the pond’s height. For as much as the heat lingered these past few weeks, it hasn’t done much to the waterline. A good thing for the mill, she supposes, but a pain for the girl that’s been sent out to wade in its shallows.

With a sigh, she toes off one boot. No point in putting off the inevitable. Her stocking bunches under her hands as she works it down from knee to ankle, slipping off her foot with far more ease than it took to put them on. Her bare toes land on damp grass, and it’s cold too, clammy. But with a stiffening of her resolve— and her spine— she lets another boot and stocking join the pile.

The soil is moist enough to stick to her feet, shedding from her soles with even the slightest shift in weight. As a child she would revel in it, sinking her toes deep into the ground until dirt embedded itself so deep it’d take a week’s worth of baths to get it all out. Now her teeth simply clench, contemplating whether her skirt or the waterline is higher.

“Better to be safe than sorry,” she murmurs, hiking it from knee-length to somewhere around mid-thigh. Her pale skin blazes like a beacon in the overcast light, visible from the far shore, but there’s no one around her to see her, none of Oma’s old friends present to cluck and scold and sniff at her over what sort of behavior a good girl was meant to show. The kind that married young and popped out a half dozen children before she could have second thoughts.

Like that Suki Bauer, they’d say, proud of themselves for thinking of it. Two girls already and a boy probably already on the way.

If only they knew how high her hemline had to go to get Gen to jump the broom, Obi would tell her, grin as slanted as his stare, they might suggest you wear yours up around your ears.

She’s been behind the counter then, a pair of elder ladies eyeing them from where they browsed the shelves, and she’d clamped her teeth tight over her lip to muffle her laugh down to a snort. Bad enough that he said those sorts of things where anyone could hear, the last thing he needed was encouragement.

But now her fingers flex, a strange itch burrowing beneath her skin. There’s a heat there, just under the surface, one that radiates out from the molten place in her belly and— and she shivers without touching the water at all. Wonder what you could do with someone who wanted you, then?

Her breath catches, throat so tight it nearly chokes her, and ah, she’ll take her chance with the mud and the leeches, as long as she can be free from… from this, whatever it is.

Shirayuki doesn’t so much step as slide down the shore, hands flying out to keep steady. The muck sucks at her toes, chilly and unpleasant, soft enough that some of it even clouds up around her feet. It’s the slimiest pair of slippers she’s ever had the misfortune of wearing. A small school of pucker-mouthed guppies crowd her as she gains her bearings, gumming at the bubbles caught on the downy hairs dotting her shins— better company than leeches to be sure, but it tickles, sending the smallest shivers beneath her skin.

“Ah…” Her teeth grit tight as she wades through the muck, bracing her against the chill of the water. “Well, there’s no point to standing around!”

On a warmer day she might kneel, letting the water cool her as long blades and gnarled roots piled high in the basket floating beside her. But today each shift in the waterline brings a gasp, that run of warm weather all but leeched from the pond’s memory. So she bends instead of bathes, questing fingers digging deep beneath the soaked soil, feeling for the hard rootstalks hidden beneath the murk and muck. Sweet flag— calamus, its tag reads, once it was boiled down and turned to oil or dried powder— wasn’t the sort of the plant that rooted deep, entrenching itself the way that the oaks and the willows did just up on shore. Instead it runs parallel between plants, a dozen little knotty shoots tangling around each other to keep each sprout from toppling.

A practiced tug pulls three of them out together; they all share the same rootstalk, the first plant showing the most robust rats’ nest of pale shoots and the third only a handful of spindly ones. A fair specimen, for her first go. And she’d need a dozen more like it to even scratch the surface of what they need to replenish their stores.

It’s hardly difficult work; her first year as an apprentice, Anda had brought her out here in the dead heat of summer and showed her how to feel for the thickest rootstalks, plucking only the most hearty plants to boil down. She’d been down to her chemise, fingers and toes so pruned it’d taken her a day to lose the wrinkles. Her whole body had singed to a light pink after all those hours in the sun, but she’d plucked enough to keep them stocked for nearly a year. The motion comes to her easy as breathing now, her fingers slipping along stalks and roots, wiggling when she things she’s found a good clot.

There’s one that gets stubborn— a big, chunky knot of a thing, holding what has to be five plants together. The roots are so gnarled beneath it she has to work her palm under and around to get a good grip. A grip she does, hauling on it until roots snap like stitches under her hands, toes curling in the mud to brace her. And she’s got it, she really does, the whole thing pulled like a tooth, but—

“You know, half-pint,” a familiar voice drawls from the shore, “if you were just gonna splash around in the water, you should have told me.”

It surprises her. Enough that she tugs too quick, too strong, and— and Shirayuki isn’t clumsy, no matter how Obi likes to tease, but with that knotty clump of roots and long grass in her grip, center of gravity shifted to yank rather than hold, it’s no surprise she tumbles. Topples really, like a tower of dishes stacked askew, sweet flag flying from her hands and basket sent skittering. When she falls, bottom-first, there's only water to catch her.

Which would be fine enough all on its own. With the soft silt lining the pond’s floor, there’d be no injury save to her pride. Wet skirts wouldn’t be pleasant, but she’d suffered worse under Anda’s exacting tutelage. The day might not be as hot as the ones before, but she’d dry quick enough picking mallow from the dryer parts of the marsh.

Or at least, that’s how it should have been, save for the fact that she’s waded right to where the shore drops off, knee-height to one side and waist-high on the other. When she tips over, there’s no clacking of teeth as her tailbone hits the bottom, but instead—

Instead a splash, murky water closing over her head as her fall slows to a float.

It only takes her a moment to find her feet— a breath, really, one that leaves her sputtering as she breaks the surface, glaring up at the grinning mouth on the shore.

“Obi,” she gasps, trying for stern but only managing sopping. “What were you—?”

“Sorry there, Miss.” He hardly sounds it as he slips down the shore after her, hand held out like an olive branch. “Didn’t mean to spook you. Just saw you splashing around in the shallows there and thought you might ask me to join.”

“Splashing?” Her hand grips onto his, a cascade of pond water dripping down her arm for the effort. “I wasn’t trying to just play around in here, Obi! I was—”

As firm as Obi holds her, his strong fingers latched around her wrist like a vise, she slips. Not all at once, oh no, but just enough to catch her breath, and when he goes to fix his grip—

Water closes over her once more, seeping through to her already soaked skin, and oh, she’s had quite enough of this.

“That was an accident, Miss!” he swears, hands waving overhead. “Really, the water went and made you all slippery, and I, er…”

She surges up, gripping him right below his elbows, and pulls.

Obi surfaces with a squawk, pond water running in rivulets down the sharp angles of his face. “Miss,” he huffs, finding his feet. “That was dirty—”

“You dropped me!” she reminds him, chin held high. “It was only fair.”

“Fair?” He wades toward her with a purpose, mischief dancing in his eyes like the townsfolk swore lights did over the pond. “Oh, I’ll drop you all right. I’ll drop you right—”

His arm snakes out, cinching around her waist before she can do much more than flounder, lifting her up off her feet. There’s a moment where he holds her, her back pressed tight against his front, heat radiating off of him even soaked to the bone, and her breath catches, heat flushing her cheeks, and—

And with a grunt, he throws her, cold water enveloping her as she struggles back to the surface. “Obi!”

There’s no need to call for him, not when he’s already trudging toward her mouth curled towards mischief.

“No!” she shrieks, a laugh bubbling out beneath it. “Don’t you dare!”

Her hand barely skims the water, but somehow a bucket’s worth flies up from it, slapping him like a wave does the shore. It stops him, at least for a moment, but then he’s on her again and she— she yelps, springing back, cupping her hands now to splash him, breathless as his grasping hands reach for her, as relentless as his grin—

And she slips. It’s a rock’s fault, mossy with algae and right where she needs her foot to brace for the next splash. But it goes out from under her instead, and she expects to fall, expects to end up once more beneath the surface, this time without any of Obi’s assistance, but instead—

Instead he grabs her, one hand on either hip, and drags her to him. It’s enough to startle a shriek out of her, bubbling into a giggle as her hands brace against his chest. She struggles in his hold, his body unbearably hot even through the dampness of his shirt.

“Let me go!” she gasps, not meaning a single word. Her fingers knot at his shoulders, wet fabric squishing beneath her fingers. “You’re keeping me from my work!”

Her knees find his hips; a more solid place to steady herself than the shifting silt beneath her feet. Obi coughs out a pained, “Miss.”

But it’s no use, she’s too busy trying to squirm herself away, laughter warring with her words as she blurts out, “Herr Anda told me to collect some calamus! You’re going to have to explain to him why—”

“Shirayuki.” He shakes her shoulders, but that’s hardly what get her attention, not when his mouth wraps so seriously around the syllable of her name. His voice lowers as he says it, dragging it across the gravel in his throat until it leaves her as scoured as the sounds themselves, a hot sting scraping over her skin.

Their eyes meet— too close, now that she’s noticed, their noses a finger’s breadth from brushing. His breath fans out over her, catching on a cheekbone before it ruffles the small, wispy hairs by her ears. It’s…intimate, too much and not enough all at once, and she wishes she could understand why her palms itch to grab him, to bring him closer still—

“I’m leaving,” he grounds out. Her fingers spring open in shock, and only his grip around her waist moors her. “Seyha is taking me to Port City.”

Her lips are too numb to mumble out more than a, “When?”

“A day.” He shrugs, like it hardly matters, but his eyes slip away, fixing somewhere past her elbows, not daring to look at her face. “Maybe two. I don’t know.”

Her feet skim down to the silt, holding her steady, the way they always have, all on their own. Obi watches her, eyes darting across her face over and over, as if she’s a book he can’t quite make out the words on, hoping that an extra read or two might make her meaning clear.

“She’s eager to get going,” he says. There’s a gulf between them now, water rushing to fill it. “Never could be tied down long, could she? Even as big as she is. We could leave now and in two days, maybe she’d finally waddle to the gate.”

She wants to laugh, to scold, to give into the usual ebb and flow of their banter and let it pull her under, make her forget that there’s anything to worry about at all, but—

But it’s a lie. One that splits around the shape of his meaning, sounding out its edges while never quite getting to the truth: it’s not safe for Seyha to be here among all this sickness. And it’s not safe for her to go alone, not carrying a child so close to term.

It will have to be Obi that goes with her. That will have to leave her, right when…when…

His smile fades, mouth finally reflecting the desperation in his eyes. “I didn’t know until last night. After you…”

The gears turn then; she can see it behind his eyes, his too-clever mind puzzling out the arrangement of bodies in the bakery last night, of what sort of conversation could be heard through the stockroom walls. “Did you…?”

“Come on.” Her hands slips from his grip, and she tries on a smile that hardly fits. “If you’re going to soak me to the bone, you might at least help me finish.”

His stare fixes on his empty hand, a strange smirk slanting up one side of his mouth. “That’s right.” His hand curls shut. “What’s a little back breaking labor between friends?”

*

One glance at the pattern of drips she leaves on the apothecary floor and Anda gives a great harrumph, telling her to leave her bounty of shoots and stalks on the county before she heads home.

“I can come back,” she offers, less confident and far more helpless than she’d like. “It won’t take long for me to change clothes, and then I can help with—”

His hand waves, the politest dismissal Anda can ever bear to give. “And then have you sick when I need you most? Go, girl. There’s nothing to do here that I can’t handle myself.”

“I’m nearly dry.” A statement that isn’t as factual as she’d hoped it would be, even after spending a hour on shore collecting mallow. Too little sun, too little heat, and she’d only managed damp instead of soaked. “If we’re going to set up the inn, then I should really—”

“Get a good night’s rest.” Anda’s forehead rucks up like his mouth, impatience and frustration leaving gouges in his skin. “Herr Kruger’s boy is handling most of it. Obi too, if Shou’s finally got a collar on him.”

“But I can—!”

“Catch your death, that’s what you’re going to do if you keep loitering in my shop like this,” he huffs, giving the floor a rap for good measure. “Go home. It might be a while yet before you get to do it again.”

Shirayuki lets out a sigh. “That’s what you said last night.”

“And I’m going to keep saying it.” His brows knit the same as his jaw, stubborn all over. “Things like this, they don’t stay contained. Illness spreads, the gates come down, and people panic. Enjoy this last bit of sanity while you can, girl. Because once it stops…”

He gazes out the window, knuckles white where he grips his cane. “We’ll see what’s left.”

*

Anda might pretend to be an exacting employer, the sort that expected odd hours and long nights with little thanks in return, but the truth of it was he was merely a prickly personality with a rather permissive policy when it came to the actual hours she worked. Some days she labored into the wee hours; mostly when a patient was in labor herself, though there’d been more than a handful of brows that needed mopping and stubborn fevers that refuse to break that kept her worn thin for weeks as they raced through the quarter.

But there had been more where Anda shooed her out the door, telling her the weather was too hot to have more than one body in the shop, or that there was no need for her to hike all the way back to gossip with him once she was done with her rounds. Enough that habit has her reach for an apron as she steps into the pub, ready to lend a hand before the regulars stomped in, eager to unwind from their wearying work.

But the taproom is silent, not a soul in it besides Oma, wiping a cloth over a counter so clean it nearly gleams. Her hands drop to her sides, stomaching rolling over to follow.

“Shirayuki!” There’s a warmth in Oma’s smile that thins before it can make it to her eyes. “You’re back so soon! And here I was, just thinking what I might put on for dinner. I think there’s a roast…”

“Ah!” She shakes her head, a palm flying up between them. “I don’t really think I could…I mean, thank you, but it’s been a long day. I think I might just grab something light to tide me over. We still have some of that cheese, don’t we? The one Seyha’s friend sent in from Clarines? If you don’t have any plans for it…?”

“I don’t,” Oma sighs, the wrinkles deepening at the corner of her eyes. “So, it’s the both of you today is it? Careful, spurn a woman’s cooking too often and she might find insult in it.”

“Nothing could keep me from one of your meals if I thought I could stay awake long enough to eat it.” Shirayuki offers a weary smile. “Is Opa feeling all right? Usually he’s first in line for your roast.”

“Oh, you know how he is. Got a bit of a head cold and suddenly nothing’s quite right.” She shakes her head, fond. “He’s just got to sulk about it for a bit, then he’ll come around. Maybe if he smells it cooking.”

If he’s got enough of a cold to complain about how his food tastes, Shirayuki doubts he’ll be smelling much of anything. But she knows better than to say anything but, “Maybe.”

“Well, off with you then.” Oma waves at her, imperious as a queen on her throne. “Go scrounge up what you’re planning to stomach. But wake up hungry, would you? If I don’t feed you something I’m afraid Anda will run you so thin you’ll slip through the floor boards.”

“I will,” she says, hoping this knot in her stomach doesn’t make a liar out of her. “I promise.”

*

Shirayuki may eat light, but it does nothing to settle her stomach-- or the pit of dread nestled at the center of it. It had been easy to ignore it as she waded in the reeds, too busy trying to keep herself steady in the shallows to think of the inn’s echoing halls, or the quiet of the pub’s taproom, or even the brittle parchment of Goro Bauer’s skin. No space to think of the halo of blonde waves spread over Maki Fischer’s pillow or her mother trying to stifle her sobs in the pantry, not when her ankles itch in the tall grass, hunting for mallow.

But it comes to her now as the minutes tick right over midnight, the hours inching closer and closer to the dawn. Every body twisted in its bed, sweating out a sickness too stubborn to relinquish its dominion; every face peering around the sickroom door, strained with worry. She’s responsible for all of them, every soul in this quarter, and the longer this drags on, days turning to weeks turning to more—

She’s failing them.

The glass rattles in its casement— from the wind maybe, or simply the pub settling on its old bones. Laying here, she can’t know which; there’s no tree to give away a breeze with its swaying, the same way there had never been one to give an easy answer to Obi’s entrance. She’d never discovered how he’d done it either; for all that he’d though getting Shou a wife would grant him more free hours, he’d come away with less. What time he did spend with her tended to be either between batches, when he could steal across the street to bother her, or when Oma put dinner on the table— and in either case, he used the door.

And now she would never know, because she— because he—

He was leaving. And she…

She wishes that it was warm enough to leave the window open. That he might see it, however he used to, and know that she wanted him to come, to lay down beside her the way he used to when everything felt right in her world.

That’s the thing about growing up, she thinks, the quarter bleary as her eyes drift shut. Once things start feeling wrong, they just never feel right again.

*

She must sleep at some point. There's a vague memory of her mattress slipping dipping beneath the weight of a shadow, of a too-warm body holding her close. But when she’s awoken, the sky still heavy with night, there’s no one beside he. Only Oma, grip hard on her shoulder as she shakes her awake.

“Shirayuki,” she gasps, hushed. “Get up, please.”

Shirayuki blinks blearily, trying to find some hint of the sun on the horizon. “What time is it?”

“Please,” Oma says, so dire she’s awake all at once. “It’s your grandfather.”

[wixhing0nastar]

About the Yang Xiao Long Abuse post.

Something occurred to me; Qrow may have also contributed to the abuse.

Back in Volume 3, when Yang was framed by Emerald?

Qrow accused her of either lying or being crazy.

Yang sought one of her family figures for validation, and Qrow called her crazy.

Then Qrow told her that Raven didn't care for her.

Would what Qrow did be considered abusive as well?

There's a lot in Volume 4 I dislike, which is why its my least favorite volume, and the Patch Scenes were among them.

But I feel that the way Qrow treated Yang was also a factor in Yang's mental/emotional state.

Also, regarding Yang's prosthetic. It appears Tai had planned to "call in some favors, pull a few strings" in order to get Yang her new arm, which shows that while Tai is emotionally insensitive to a degree, he is still caring about others and willing to help.

Ruby did say that Taiyang does love them both and is overprotective.

But a person can be loving and yet at the same time emotionally harmful to a degree.

Its strange, given the character we see of Qrow and Tai in RWBY Chibi, both being loving family members.

How would you, if you could make suggestions to the writing team, made ideas on how to improve things in V4?

Beyond just Yang, it feels there was too much in need of a revision here or there.

So to start with the question about Qrow, those instances wouldn’t count as abuse. For something to be abuse there has to be a pattern of this stuff happening, so the single comment about the Vytal Festival isn’t abuse, just a really messed up thing to say to her.

As for the comment about Raven, while it’s a little too blunt, it’s not something she shouldn’t hear. Especially since Qrow gave her the information to find her and knows Yang’ll be meeting her in the near future and he wants to prepare her for that.

Like as much as she was saying she was just looking for answers, you know deep down she’d been hoping for years if she found her, Raven would care enough about her to take care of her and Ruby.

That being said, in V6 when Yang and Ruby find him passed out drunk, their reaction does indicate he was doing this regularly at some point in their lives and they know how to handle it… and taking care of a passed out drunk adult isn’t the job of a kid(s) and is also a form of parentification. So likely he contributed in some regard when Yang was younger.

However, Qrow acknowledges that he has an issue and does try (successfully!) to work on himself to be a better uncle/mentor both to Yang and Ruby but also their friends as well, which is important to acknowledge.

And yes, I never meant to imply Tai doesn’t love them both. He clearly does, it’s just that love alone isn’t enough when you’ve got a couple of very young grieving children at home, and then a traumatized teenager with fairly severe PTSD. (And tbh I wouldn’t ever put much weight into the characterization in RWBY “cake butler” Chibi, lol).

As for V4, I think that the biggest issue the volume had overall was that they were trying to follow too many different storylines in too many different locations. Like they had to balance:

RNJR + Qrow’s trip across Mistral

Weiss escaping from her father

Blake and the Faunus Civil War

Yang and her PTSD/Recovery

Introducing Oscar and all the world stuff that comes with the reincarnation story

Introducing Salem and Team WTCH

I’d suggest combining at least a couple of these earlier on to give themselves more breathing room. Tbh Yang’s entire recovery arc barely happened (it was like three, 5ish minute scenes across the whole volume, which was also almost every scene she had) and Weiss’s arc was also fairly short and a bit underwhelming for how much it was built up, so I’d try to fold them into other storylines.

Honestly, I’d specifically suggest combining Yang and Oscar’s stories (they both are dealing with huge, unexpected changes in their lives they don’t know how to navigate) and Blake and Weiss’s (Weiss could go through a very similar emotional journey as she did in canon but from the opposite side by witnessing how Ghira and Kali treat her and Blake compared to her father), with Yang and Oscar catching up to RNJR at some point in the later part of the volume.

If they specifically wanted to write Tai as a good parent now (while also not retconning anything from V1-V3), one of the first things he’d need to do is admit that he was in the wrong in the past (like Qrow did in V7) and was not there for her. And then make it clear he is now and then ask after and follow her lead in terms of what she needs to heal instead of assuming he knows best.

[lifewiththelulus]

When Zilan goes to see Willow Kindlin tells him that Willow is feeling too sick for visitors. In reality that's what Willow asked Kindlin to say if he came by at all. She acted like she really didn't wanna see him

Kindlin of course was worried but knew she shouldn't meddle too much. When she sees the look on his face though, she asks him if something happened.

As he turns to walk away, she speaks up "Hold on, Zilan, did something happen? She seems.. really upset." Kindlin folds her arms and leans on the door frame. She couldn't stand not knowing what was wrong with her little girl. "Is everything ok?"

Mason promised not to say anything even if it's not what he wanted. Not having many friends made him quite alien to how to deal with relationship problems like this. He hoped that she knew what she was doing and would still be someone to turn too. She didn't tell him everything about their breakup. If she had he would have already been yelling his ear off

Zilan: Well, I just promised a friend I’d tell her something very important. But if she’s feeling that bad I’ll wait until she’s back in school. If it’s not too much trouble, would you mind giving her this ma’m?

He hands her the plastic container of soup.

Zilan: It’s the first time my pops ever cooked earth food, so he hopes he did it right.

Kindlin smiles gently, taking it with a nod. "It's ok, I've had my fair share of being confused by earth food." She reached out to place a hand on his shoulder. "I'm sure Willow will feel better soon. It's not unlike her to get sick easily… She's lucky to have a friend who cares."

Zilan gives her a shy smile and waves goodbye. Meanwhile, Charlie and Nebi were watching from the window and rushed to Willows's room to tell her what happened.

"oooo Willow your boyfriend just came by" "come on charlie" nebi smacks her shoulder " its true tho"

Willow was laying in bed when the two of them came in She was crying not too long before so her voice cracked.

"Did he leave?"

Charlie: Yeah, he's gone now, but he left you a present~

She's immediate snapped out of her spiralling thoughts at that. "Huh?"

Just then Kindlin opened the door. "Hey, Zilan just dropped by. I know you said you didn't want to see him, but he brought some soup."

Willow made a face of guilt and looked down. "Ok momma." Kindlin looked at the other two, smiled with a twinge of concern, then went to put away the food.

Nebi just shakes her head "I just don't get romance Charlie"

Charlie: Hehe, do you think he made it with extra looooove~

Charlie was about to say more till he saw even more tears start to form in her eyes. Now he just started to feel guilty.

She sniffed and tried to keep from crying more. It was really hard to do though. She sighed and grabbed her blanket to hide her muddy face.

"Um… Do you two remember Andi?" She wasn't sure how much they knew, or what Aurora had told them

Nebi hadn't realized how bad she was feeling until she spoke,betraying a lot of hurt. "Yeah that loser that hurt our sister, what about em?"

She wiped her cheek and stayed looking down. "Him and Zilan were hanging out yesterday." She furrowed her eyebrows. "I'm scared. What if Zilan is just pretending to be my friend?" She couldn't help more mud getting on her sheets. "What if Andi is putting him up to hanging out with me? He made this face at me." She was genuinely scared "What if I can't trust him? I…. I really like him." He heart ached when she said that

Charlie looked at Nebi in panic, hoping she'd know what to say

She furrowed her brow and tried to pick her words as delicately as someone her age could. "I don't know Willow honestly and I wish that jerk had never gotten in your head like that. But from everything I've seen of em, he seems like a nice guy. I mean he didn't have to bring you that soup, he said his dad made it and it definitely doesn't look store-bought so that checks out" she gestured to the somehow burnt ingredients swimming in the container.

Willow calmed down a little. "Maybe you're right… Maybe I'm paranoid." She nodded and looked up at her sister. "So….uh, why did you two say all the stuff when you came in?" She was blushing, curious now. "He wouldn't like me like that."

Charlie looked at her like she was dumb. "pfft yeah sure, I'm sure him stuttering whenever your too close to him is just what he does around everyone."

She tilts her head. "He always talks like that though."

Poor clueless Willow

" you got to be kidding me I thought that you knew!" She slapped her forehead. "I don't even like guys but even I can tell he likes you it's so obvious"

Charlie snickered "oh let me guess, The flower he had in his hair wasn't yours right? He just happened to be wearing one that looks exactly like yours?

She toned down the teasing just a bit "seriously just talk to him, and if you turns out to be some two-faced jerk your lovely and very cool sisters will destroy him, problem solved" she said confidently

She blushed more and hid her face "It's not a big deal - it was just clipping day, and you know he's my friend so.." She looked at nebi and finally cracked a little laugh. "Thanks.. I love you guys." She pulled them both in for a muddy hug

Charlie hugged back and drew a smiley face on her cheek from the mud before sprinting out the door and blowing a raspberry.

Nebi rolled her eyes but was all to happy to return the hug. "Of course Willow what are sisters for? You can tell us anything. Or well maybe not charlie but definitely me".

[colemonroe]

Chuckling softly, he glanced over at Taliah and it was almost like he could see the wheels of her mind turning while trying to suss out the litter box situations. “Easy. We can just put it in one of the bathrooms, or the laundry room, whatever ya want, then show it to her, and that’s it,” Cole explained, smiling warmly then as she asked how he knew any of this. “Not exactly,” meaning, no, he’d never had a cat, but he’d come close back in Tennessee. Running a hand along Styx’s tiny frame, Cole shrugged a shoulder, “Back in Knoxville, my ma would have some pretty unsavory characters over a lot and so I’d leave, sometimes just for that night, other times I’d be gone for days,” he started, finding it easy to open up to her, even if the memories he was recounting weren’t exactly good. “There was this rundown shack at the edge of town that I’d hide out in, and there was this scrappy lookin’ three-legged tabby cat who’d hang around. He was mean as hell, but wasn’t ever that way with me.” They’d both been the misfits in their respective circles, and Cole liked to think they’d bonded over it. “Sometimes we’d just sit there for hours, he’d let me pet him, and for a little while it was like I could forget why I was even out there in the first place.” Though a smile tried tugging at the corner of his mouth, a frown still pulled between his brows as he reflected on those nights, “First pal I ever had, really. Guess ya could say I been a cat person ever since. She's the first pet I've ever had though,” he explained, nodding down at Styx as the little kitten stretched and readjusted herself on his chest. 

Frowning slightly as he looked over at her, Cole shook his head, knowing there was really no way to stop people from being who they were. It was all about how they chose to react to it. “Look…I know it’s annoyin’, but people are who they are, y’know? They ain’t gonna change, so it ain’t worth a second thought,” he supplied, not trying to downplay how she felt at all but really just wanting to assure her it’d never be an issue. Where he stood was obvious and he’d always make that known. “Don’t let ‘em get to ya, T. Ya know where I stand and that’s all that matters to me.” Anything else would just work itself out. Expression brightening at the mention of funnel cake, it was all he could do to keep from bouncing in place and disturbing Styx, “Funnel cake, huh? Ya do love me,” Cole teased, lightly nudging into her as his mind bent back towards the fair for a moment. Whether or not either of them had realized it at the time, that really had been the start of everything. And now here they were, talking about living together and actually making it a reality. “It’s a big step, yeah,” he agreed, nodding firmly, “But it don’t scare me, darlin’.” Grinning wide at her answer, Cole chuckled softly, trapping his bottom lip between his teeth, “Good. Think I’ll keep ya too,” he laughed softly, tossing a wink her way. “I like it too,” the idea of things being theirs, that was. While in any other scenario, it might’ve been terrifying, but with Taliah, it felt more like a comfort. 

Chuckling as Styx took her time circling the same spot before laying down, Cole couldn’t help but mirror Taliah’s grin, “I know. She’s perfect, ain’t she?” Clearly, he was already smitten and now that it had happened, there was no turning back. Circling patterns against Taliah’s skin, he couldn’t help but laugh a little at her assessment of the situation, “Just got that animal magnetism, I guess,” he snorted, not really sure if that was true, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t over the moon at the way Styx had taken to him. It hadn’t happened immediately though, and he had the scratches to prove it, but they were on more solid ground now and he couldn’t be happier. “Think we'll actually get any sleep tonight?” He prompted with a chuckle, sneaking a quick glance down at Taliah, “Or we just gonna take turns starin’ at her all night?”

"Instinct.. right." Nodding, she does feel like she's the clueless one here, but she didn't mind. "But how will she know where to find it? And where should we put it?" Scratching at the side of her head, she falls into a soft laugh as she looks over at him. "How do you know about all this then, did you used to have a cat?" He'd never mentioned a pet to her before, but if she'd learned anything it was that there was always something new to know about him. "Yeah, right," she half snorts, half scoffs, glancing up at him with a playful raise of her brow. "You really have no idea how attractive you are, do you? And you also underestimate how skanky some women are, they don't care that you're not a free dick, they'll try their luck anyway. And yes, I do know that you'd tell them no, but it's still annoying, those ones are not girls girls and I'm not here for it." Taliah shrugs, knowing that he already knew just how much she despises women who don't follow the unwritten girl code.

"Just a couple fresh pizzas from the store, and a funnel cake." She smiled. For her, it would always remind her of that day at the carnival, the kiss they shared in that tiny photo booth box. Looking back, it was clear now that it was the start of something real. "Well, yeah, but..." She paused, chuckling softly as she realised yes, she was immune to his poker face, "I think I just doubt myself, it was a big idea I just sort of launched at you and I only decided to panic after I said it." Getting in her own head about it, wondering if it was too soon, or if she'd totally freaked him out. But of course, she hadn't, and underneath the self-inflicted anxiety, she knew that. "Planning on it, yeah. This is forever, you'd have to peel me off your leg if you ever tried to leave me." Taliah grins, knowing, or rather, having complete faith and trust in the fact that they were going to be together until the very end. "When I think about us, I like every idea or thing where I can say yeah, that's ours. Not yours, or mine, but ours, together, you know?" It felt natural, that's the only way she could describe it.

Moving her hand out the way of the kitten, she couldn't help but grin at how adorable and tiny she was. "She's so cute I want to squish her." She sighs contentedly. Styx was just wandering up looking for a comfy spot, Taliah couldn't say she was entirely surprised when she chose the middle of his chest. But really, it was listening to the way he softly spoke to her, guided her and payed her soft attention, it warmed her entire heart. "She loves you," Taliah whispers, turning her head to press a kiss against his collarbone. "Can't blame her." With a gentle shuffle, she slides her hand over his skin, wanting to rest it near Styx's nose where she can gently stroke the end of it with the tip of her finger. "We can stay in here. She can have free reign of the house once she's more settled, but yeah, for tonight, we can stay here. You big softy," she teased. "She shouldn't be alone and from now on, she doesn't have to be."

[kittenwalker]

The Evans getting turned on by you.

notes : hiya i’m starting a series where it would be how the Evans (Evan, Tate, Kit, Franken Kyle, Frat boy Kyle, Jimmy, James and Kai) would react to you doing something and requests would be greatly appreciated, thank you!! xxx

here’s a little preview, xxx

Evan Peters :

- wearing his clothes really turn him on ( but he would definitely rather you naked ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡° ) )

- preferably his shirts or hoodies, it would look very baggy and long on you and Evan would find that hot.

- he thinks you wearing his clothes is like a marking that your his

- you would walk out of the shower, his shirt draping over your small frame

- Evan would see you and dramatically gasp and act like he fainted then running over to you like a little kid 

- “ you look wonderful in my clothes, you should wear them more often “ he said in a low grunt then he unexpectedly picked you up and put you over his shoulder. Making you shriek, surprising you with the swift move. After carefully laying you down, he would smother you in kisses.

- it would either end up with cuddles or a steamy, segssy time

Tate Langdon : 

- seeing you choke on his cock pushes him off the edge

- he loves deep-throating and fucking your mouth

- likes to see you go all the to the base of his dick and gagging on it

- “ Come on y/n, you can fit it all the way you’ve done it before “ he says encouraging you to take him whole. You opened up your throat pushing the rest of his cock into your mouth, closing your mouth around it and hollowing out your cheeks. Tate would throw back his head in pleasure, accidentally pulling your hair in the process. After a few more thrust into your mouth, he would release his load into your mouth. “ Good girl, and now good girls get rewarded. “

- he would then continue to pleasure you as a exchange for sucking him off

Kit Walker :

- he thinks you look hot being angry ( like literally when your on fire, he’ll think your hot. get the pun? ok i’ll stop )

- he would cut you off in the middle of your rant or argument and just kiss you to make you shut up. Making you so confused but going along with it.

- “ My boss made me do another shift tomorrow even though I specifically told him I was busy the next day! ” you shouted out of frustration, putting both your hands onto your temples. Massaging them so you wouldn’t get a migraine. “ Well did ya tell em again that you’re not available the following day? ” “ Yes, yes I did Kit! But that bastard ignored it.” you replied, kicking the pillow in front of you. You kept going on about how your boss was an ass, until Kit couldn’t take it anymore. He crashed his lips on to yours, making you stop talking. “ Thought ya take the hint when my eyes was going all over you “ he muttered in a deep voice while making love bites on your neck. “ Let’s take this to the room, yea doll? ”

- would only want to pleasure you so that your mind could take time off after being angry

Frat boy Kyle Spencer :

- he loves to see you dress up sexy

- roaming his hands over your body

- shooting you with compliments left and right

- would want to just ditch the event you were getting ready for

- walking out of the your room, you asked Kyle to open his eyes then giving him a twirl. He would look absolutely star struck, eyeing your black silk dress exposing a bit of your breast. His hands roaming all over your frame, he leaned into kiss you but you backed away knowing his trick. “ Nonono, I know what you’re tryna do, one kiss and we’re not leaving hmph? ” “ Maybe let’s just skipped this one, please babe. “ he pleaded but you shook your head “ Nope I spent way too long getting ready for it to go to waste, c’mon let’s go .” you walked away from his grip, hearing him groan.

- he would make a fuss out of it and try to leave the party early

Franken Kyle Spencer :

- he doesn’t really understand what getting turned on is

- but he loves your love bites and bobbies

- he would then get hard but he wouldn’t know why so you’ll help him take care of it

- you were helping Kyle bathe and he would beg you to come in with him. Mostly because he feels shy being naked under your gaze, so if you don’t shower with him. He’ll just pull you in so that now you’ll be wet and mind as well take a shower. But it’ll turn south because it would just end up with you two making out in the bathroom. “ Suc-ck n-neck ” he’ll say so you'd give give him hickies and you would do as told. He plays with your breast while you’re sucking on his neck, kneading them like dough and pinching your hard nipples.

- you would also just end up having shower sex because Kyle would be too impatient

Jimmy Darling :

- dirty talk is his thang

- you in silk lingerie would make in make him do flips

- you moaning while his fingering you

- honestly just combine all of the above and he would drop dead

- you would notice Jimmy being tense up the whole day due his new act that he is going to perform tonight. So you decided to give him a little treat in the caravan at the end of the day. 12.33 am, Jimmy would be coming back soon so you slipped on his favourite lingerie set. Then you’d lay in a sexy position on his bed, waiting for him to walk in. “ Hey darling I’m bac- woah ” his eyes opening wide, definitely not expecting this. “ Like what you see? ” walking up to him and palming him while whispering into his ear. “ Let me take care of you tonight alright? ” you said while kneeling down

- he would definitely give you aftercare

James Patrick March : 

- lovessss to see you beg and call him zaddy

- would purposely do something out of your favour just to see you beg

- while having sex you’ll have to call him daddy or you would get punished ( sometimes you would intentionally disobey him so he could punish you, which is usually spanking. ) 

- “ Do you want me inside of you my dearest? ” he said, teasing you. You nodded hungry for attention at your cunt. “ Use you pretty mouth dear, come on, beg for it .” “ Daddy please enter me, I really need you to make me come. ” “ Good girl y/n ” James praises

- you usually are exhausted after sex, so James would clean you up and tuck you into bed. 

- Giving you a goodnight kiss on the forehead 

Kai Anderson :

- he likes it when you sit on his lap

- you would see him working very hard for his cult that day and would want to distract him a bit ( but would deeply regret it after )

- when he is working, you asked if you could on his lap and he would let you but you couldn’t distract him too much.

- testing the waters, you moved around trying to grind him but just said you’re trying to get comfortable.

- you knows he enjoys it but he also had a lot of work to complete

- you could feel him getting hard underneath, so you would full-on grind him until he got mad and carries you into the bedroom.

- he then violently throws you on to the bed and makes sure you learned your lesson to never do it again.

Peter Maximoff :

- he likes you riding his dick

- would absolutely die if you praised him

- when you ride his cock he always stares at your tits going up and down

- " yes y/n just like that " peter moaned while you bounced up and down. " Fuck maximoff, your cock is hitting all the right places " you whimpered, tugging on his soft sliver hair. His ears tingling after hearing you praise him.

- would swallow all of your cum that has spilled out.

god i’m so sorry if this was absolute ass i kinda struggled writing this :’)

[bucknastysbabe]

Hi, I am literally awful at making requests and I really hope you’re currently taking requests but I read your fic about Chubby!Bucky and was wondering if you could reverse it, like a short plus size reader and normal movie like Bucky , but not one where he just accepts her body because looks aren’t important but one where he worships her body, he doesn’t just think curves are okay for a woman he loves curves on a woman, you can make it an established relationship or a not, I prefer it not to be an established relationship but just write whatever flows. A smut story would be what I am asking for, some light dom!bucky sub!reader. If it’s not too much to ask can you throw in a kissing/spit kink, not too much focus on spitting but about slobbery messy kisses. Sorry if this is a rambling mess but I hope you can work with it, thank you, love your writing. 💜

YES I GOTCHU!! Always taking requests. Also I got what you meant don’t put yourself down DAMMIT *angry pointing*!! Sorry for the wait had a writers block moment this week but hope you enjoy :)

Big softie buck luvs his chubby gf

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 1,830

Tags: V!fingering, rough sex, pnv!sex, sloppy kissing, dirty talk, fluff and smut, Bucky is Babie, plus size!reader

A/N: Idk where the breeding kink hopped in but y’know how it be folks.

Bucky had a skip in his step going down the street. He was done with all of the bullshit paperwork in the Flagsmashers aftermath. Sam was taking over mantle of Steve amazingly, Walker was ousted and shamed, and they even got Sharon back into the states. Although he wasn’t completely sure about her.

Regardless he could breathe and go see his sweetie. Perfect, patient, lovely, and owner of the most wondrous curves. Bucky had to keep his dick in his pants for now. He carried a bouquet of roses and some chocolates, hustling down the row of brownstones. His girlfriend was very talented in her career and managed to buy one for herself.

He fought back his giddy grin when rapping on the red wooden door. It slowly opened to reveal her pretty face, mussed hair, and adorable huge t-shirt. The man had to shove down his intense desire knowing that was his shirt. She yelped in surprise, practically launching on the super-soldier.

Bucky laughed and grabbed her under the ass to keep the crying thing from falling. He chuckled, “Hey, hey, you’ll mess up the chocolates hold on.” She grabbed the package blindly and tossed them on a side table. She nuzzled into his scruff, arms wrapped tightly around his neck.

She sniffled, “Don’t need em- I got you.” The super soldier shook his head with a toothy smile, placing the flowers on another surface while leading the pair to the living room. He stroked her back in an attempt to quiet her crying. Bucky did not need to have the usual happy-go-lucky woman crying over the likes of him.

Sitting back onto the plush couch he murmured, “I’m back now, done, you’ll want to kick me out before the end of it.” His flesh hand thumbed away a tear and tipped her chin up. The girl wiped at her eyes and half-giggled and sobbed, “I know, I was so worried during it all. The news aren’t good for my nerves.”

Bucky wanted to sappily get lost in her watery eyes, framed by long clumped lashes. He murmured while stroking along her lush sides, “I can give you first hand doll,” he absently waved, “Tell me about you.” She rolled her eyes and replied, “Work, worrying, watching Alpine, I started a new project.”

As soon as the white cat was mentioned she appeared, purring and snuggling up to the pair. Bucky felt his eyes slightly water as he croaked, “There’s my sweet girl.” The cat let out a little ‘mrow?’ and promptly bit his hand. The couple busted into guffaws, Bucky snarking, “I guess that’s what I deserve.”

He leaned back, pulling his girl onto his chest.

“So tell me about that project, baby.”

He was listening to her talk about work and the project, really, but other things were starting to rear their head. She was so soft against him, lovely curves and pillowy breasts. The woman seemed sleepy recounting the latest news, words slightly stumbling. Bucky figured it was time for a wakeup call. So he grabbed a handful of ass, smirking lecherously.

She squeaked and bolted upright, gaping at Bucky. He snickered, “What?” She narrowed her eyes and groped his half-hard dick in return, the brunette’s eyes rolling with a breathy laugh. Bucky rumbled, “Sorry sweetheart, y’feel so good I lost control.” He squeezed again and nosed along her jaw— drawing out a gasp.

“Imagine how I’ve felt, toys don’t do the trick when I have a sexy super hero saving the world.”

Bucky grew jealous. He didn’t care if they were inanimate— only Bucky gets to watch his sweet girl lose herself in pleasure. He growled, “Oh yeah? What did you try?” She bit on her lower lip, eyes darting to the side, face flushing with embarrassment. Bucky ground his heavy cock against her thin underwear to goad her along.

She mumbled, “The vibrator, mm, then the shower one, y’know with the suction.”

He could’ve taken her right there imagining his girlfriend whining frustratedly on the dildo in the shower— curves slick, soapy, and bouncing with her movements. Bucky nipped her bottom lip sharply, relishing in her whimper. He cooed, “Didn’t do ya’ a lick of good either huh baby? Needed this to treat you right.” He rutted again for good measure, cock throbbing insistently. She shivered on his thighs, eyes growing glossy in desire.

She whimpered, “B-Buck, please.”

He growled, “Open.”

The girl did so obediently, widening lax lips. Bucky tilted her head back and dropped some of his spit onto her tongue. He commanded, “Swallow.” She whined thinly, throat bobbing as she did so. Her plush thighs were practically vibrating on his toned ones.

“Please, fuck, fuck,” she cried, tears pricking.

Bucky grabbed a soft cheek forcefully and claimed her lips. She pressed forward clumsily, heavy tits on his chest and little hands wrenching his jacket. Bucky dominated the kiss, his baby too overcome to do much except weak kisses and drooling. He laughed while sucking on her tongue, plundering the cute thing’s mouth.

It was sloppy. Bucky was in heaven. He liked knowing he could reduce her to tears and careless kisses without even getting in her pants. She mouthed against his lips, practically rutting to get closer. Which on that note, he snuck a hand down her plush tummy to get at her pussy. She cried out again, gasping hotly into the super soldier’s mouth.

Bucky slid two flesh fingers across her weeping slit and groaned, “Fuck- sweetheart you’re so wet.” She warbled, “Missed you, please.” In a fitful movement, Bucky flipped her around on his lap. Full ass thickly against his cock and now all of her soft parts for him to grab freely. She seemed too dazed to register, whimpering at the manhandling.

Nibbling on her neck Bucky hummed, “Can you take my shirt off for me baby? Hm?”

She flushed and nodded shyly. He hated when she got shy, thinking her extra padding wasn’t the sexiest thing he’d laid eyes on. Bucky was a man, he wanted something to grab on when he fucked a girl stupid. She shucked off the shirt, almost curling in on herself.

“No- no- you better stop it. Still like ya’ curves doll,” he tutted.

An annoyed whine was his response.

So Bucky ripped off her underwear with his vibranium arm, donning a shit eating grin. The woman yelping and jolting on his cock. Bucky snickered, “That’s what ya’ get, now I get to see it all.” Her face flushed even prettier, swollen lips lax and wet. He grabbed handfuls of her soft tits and groaned deeply, massaging and tweaking the tender flesh.

Her head fell back again the brunette’s shoulder, brokenly whimpering his name. Bucky murmured, “So sweet, missed my baby.” He thumbed at a peaked nipple and circled around it, sending her ass rocking back against his throbbing cock. Regretfully leaving her breast, he slid his other hand to grope at plush hips and belly before drawing fingers against her slick cunt.

She urged breathlessly, “Oh, c’mon touch me bear, oh!”

He sucked a dark mark behind her ear while delving two vibranium fingers into her slick channel— hot, pulsing, and oh-so-soaked. He grunted in arousal, thrusting and curling his fingers. Bucky growled, “Be a good girl and ride my hand.” She nodded vigorously, mewling and canting her hips against the heel of his palm.

Bucky gritted his teeth to hold back from her ass rubbing perfectly along his strained dick. He had to compartmentalize. Objective one, make his Angel cum. Then he can have a go. She squealed on a perfectly timed curl of fingers on the g-spot and his smooth palm against her clit.

The man used his other hand to grab and pull at her bouncing breasts, mouth leaving a mess of marks all over her neck. She began to tremble, hands twitching to find purchase. His sweetie wailed, “Buck, oh goddd, m’so close baby!” The former assassin paused his bite to growl, “Let go, I know it feels s’good. Then I’ll fuck ya’ raw.”

That did the trick. She loved fucking raw. Bucky had an inkling his girl had been wanting him to knock her up. He wouldn’t mind, more tits, more curves, and a Junior. But Bucky was selfish and wanted her to himself for now— no sharing. Her gushing all over his hand brought Bucky out of his fantasies.

She sucked in deep breaths, exhaling with moans, body wracked with pleasure. Bucky cooed and eased her down, drawing his hand out of her. He could bust right now at the slick coating his pants. She turned and begged for a kiss silently, eyelashes fluttering.

They kissed again, softer this time, softly intertwining their tongues. She whispered into Bucky’s mouth, “Your turn, old man.” Bucky snickered and rolled his eyes dramatically, nipping her upper lip teasingly. She reached behind blindly to help him unbutton, lips sealing together with wet smacks.

Bucky moaned when his achy cock hit the air, her slick center so close to where he needed it buried. She mewled, “Take me, use me baby, get it out.” Later, the man would deny the absolutely pathetic noise he made. Bucky aligned the ruddy tip of his cock to her and gritted his jaw at being sheathed. Her back arched at the intrusion, mouthing at Bucky’s scruff.

He gripped onto her wide hips and lifted her up and down on his cock. Basically a cocksleeve at this point with the way Bucky was slamming his angry cock in. She cried and babbled at the rough treatment, incoherent slurs. Bucky choppily grunted and moaned, veins pulsing with sheer need. She felt so fucking good.

Bucky hissed, “That’s my- hah- best girl, bein’a good little fucktoy.”

She nodded deliriously, drool running down a corner or her gaping mouth, tits bouncing wildly as she held onto Bucky’s hands for dear life. The brunette was going to blow quick at this rate— his girl was sucking him in too good. She seized up and squeezed his dick like a vice.

She had cum again, only a shrill yelp and Bucky’s cock being throughly milked as the indicator. His baby fell limp against him, nuzzling into his sweaty cheek. His balls were full up and pulsing, ready to release. Another one, two, three pumps Bucky came with a loud cry of her name.

He slumped into the couch, still seating inside of his girlfriend while riding out the aftershocks. He could vaguely hear her whimpering about being full under the blood rushing in Bucky’s ears. He wrapped his arms around her soft midsection, suddenly very tired. She hissed, “Not there.”

Yawning, Bucky snorted, “No way in hell baby. Can’t a man hug the woman he loves who just made him see stars?”

She narrowed her eyes for a pause then pecked his lips. The woman murmured, “Fine. Since you’re the man I love who made me see stars two times.”

“Well I could count two since you’re in my lap.”

“Hush.”

[secretkinkz]

Don't Tell Em~ Toji smut

Warnings: Step siblings, oral sex, and masturbating.

WTF LMFAO THIS IS CRINGEY ASF

I waved my stepfather goodbye as he drove away. My mother waved and smiled. After they were no longer in sight, I went back inside and sighed. This months was going to be hell.

"No, what do you want?" I rolled my eyes as my stepbrother leaned against the door frame. "What are you doing while they're gone?" He asked, following me to my room. "This." I closed the door in his face. "You plan on staying in the room all day?" I dismissed him and sat on my bed.

I put on my headphones and pressed play on my music. Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath. I wanted to imagine erotic things with my boyfriend. It's been a while since he touched me. Every time I thought about my boyfriend's touch, Toji popped up in my head.. I opened my eyes and stared at the wall in disgust. I found myself sexually frustrated, the dampness between my legs annoyed me.

I slipped off my shorts and began feeling myself. Thoughts of my boyfriend caressing my body didn't seem to indulge me. I thought of him biting and sucking my clit slowly. I lay there baffled. What's going on with me? I shook off the thought. Slipping my shirt off I grip my breast as I rub my clit. Thoughts of Toji's body invaded my mind. How sweaty he gets after playing basketball with his friends.

His flawless abs. I know it's wrong but I couldn't help but visualize how it would be if he was inside of me. I moaned softly. It must be good, every time he brought a woman over I'd hear them sobbing and screaming their lungs out. My pussy ached, I needed to be filled. My breathing quickened as my eyes fluttered shut. I arched my back and whimpered. "Toji." The name escaped my lips unknowingly. "Aren't you dirty?" A soft chuckle startled me. I threw the blanket over my naked body.

"What the fuck Toji? Get out!" He tilted his head and came towards me. "Oh, I'm not invited to the freak show? Oh, how I would love to watch you a little longer." I gulped as he stood in front of my bed. "W-what are you saying? We're step siblings.." He smiled. "Exactly, we're not blood." He gripped my blanket, slowly pulling it off of me. "Do you not want it?" I stayed silent. "Is that a yes?" The grip I had around my blanket loosened.

He yanked the blanket off and stared at me. Toji grabbed my ankles and pulled me to the edge of the bed. He spreads my legs and stares at my pussy. "Stop staring.." I mumbled, my face felt hot. "How can I?" Toji went between my legs and pressed his colds against my slit. I bit my lip and closed my eyes. "You're this wet, just for me.."

My eyes flew open feeling his mouth make contact with my pussy. "No, don't lick that.." I grasped his hair. Toji's tongue lapped against my pussy. With each lick, my stomach felt tighter and tighter, soon enough it was tingling with pleasure. I pushed my hips forward so he could take me deeper into his mouth, I felt weak and helpless. His muscular back flexed as my moans grew louder.

"Oh, fuck Tojii." I cried out, my hips jerking as I climaxed. He pulled away and licked his lips. "If I had known you tasted this good, I might've fucked you already." He removed his tank top and shorts. I was shocked to see the bulge in his boxers. I scooted back towards the headboard. "What are ya scared of sweetie?"

Toji grabbed my hand and placed it on his hard cock. It was so thick, I could barely wrap my entire hand around it. He released a low moan. I caressed his cock slowly. The feeling of it twitching in my hand told me I was doing something right. I moved my hand faster. Toji buried his head in the crook of my neck.

"Ahh... That feels amazing.." He groaned, thrusting his hips slowly. "Not too fast, I don't wanna cum this quick." He pulled my hand away and positioned himself at my entrance. "Hurry," I mumbled, my pussy was begging to be filled.

"It would be rude to shove something this big inside of a woman all at once." He pushed the tip in. I gripped his hands once he entered me fully. "Fuck." I whimpered. "Y/n." Toji moved his hips slowly.

After several minutes he started pounding into me. I wrapped my legs around him and started moving my hips. "Fuck baby, relax. You're going to snap my dick off." I clenched down on his cock harder. Toji grunted as held my hips.

"You're so hard-headed." He ran his hand up my stomach, stopping at my neck. My eyes rolled back as his cock hit the deepest parts of me. "Fuckkk!" At this point, I was screaming and trembling. "Shit." Toji's eyes fluttered shut. "You're so fucking good." I felt good like I could do this all day.

He flipped us around, me now on top. "Ride me, baby." I lift myself and slam back down. Toji moaned loudly. I felt more confident, leaning down I kiss Toji.

Sucking on his tongue and biting his lip. As my orgasm built within me, the muscles around my core tightened. "Close." I cried out gripping the sheets. Toji bucked his hips upward, fucking me at a fast pace. We both came with a long moan. My mind went blank.

"Shit Y/n, you almost took my soul." I went back to reality. "Your shits so fucking tight, you might've put a dent on my dick." I rolled my eyes. "This is why I don't like you." I stood up. Toji didn't know what to do. He laid there mesmerized.