#yet another long ass post whoops

[heartofjasmina]

On the note of your most recent post. Big Bro! Any characters of your choosing… when?

Listen, I tried my best but my brain still went to big bro Bakugou and brat lil sis--

You knew you were in for it. But your half brother had been studying for midterms and ignoring you for weeks, and you were sick of it.

So you stole his entire weed stash, stripped naked before putting on one of his shirts, and started messing with his gaming equipment while you smoked.

"So... who are you again?" the user's ID was chargebolt and he sounded constantly amused as you went on a rampage with your brother's character in their. He was part of your brother's guild along with a few other friends from school you knew.

"Just a girl who likes to mess with Kacchan." You giggled, not really understanding the prompts the game gave you but simply choosing to smash buttons instead.

"Bakubro is gonna be pissed," user redriot grumbled as you took another hit of your blunt.

"Nah, he's too busy studying like a good little nerd." You snorted, finding your own lame joke hilarious.

"Kacchan isn't a nerd he's just very driven--" Izuku's voice came through next, but even without hearing his voice, his userame allmightsfanboy gave him away.

"Yeah yeah yeah," You dismissed your brother's best friend with a wave of your hand--

Except your hand was caught in one rougher and bigger than yours. You gulped, and peeked behind you to find your fuming big brother looming over you.

"Time to log off," He growled in a voice that left no room for argument.

Wolf whistles and whoops could be heard through the headset he took off your head, and all he said into the microphone before shutting down the computer was "I'll be offline for a bit."

Then it was just the two of you.

"You couldn't just tell me your slutty holes needed more dick." His voice was almost conversational, if it wasn't for the fact that he was stripping off his clothes. Your parents wouldn't be home for hours yet, as they worked the night shift at the hospital.

That's when your fried brain actually put two and two together.

No one would be coming to save you.

"Nope," he popped the 'p' and grinned sharp, feral. "You decided to throw a tantrum like a proper fucking brat." He tossed his shirt over his head and pointed at his bed, his red eyes narrowed as he barked out the command,

"Face down, ass up. Now." You scrambled to move as he ordered, face burning when you realized he's gonna see exactly how slick your thighs already are.

You tried hiding your face in his sheets-- but one slap to your asscheek had you yelping and gasping for air.

"You really can't go a few weeks without me fucking you huh? Get all pissy if I don't." He chuckled as he groped the bright red handprint he left behind.

"I'm not-" You were mortified and indignant, but as always your big brother saw through you.

"Don't fucking bullshit me. Why else would you be acting out? But no worries. As long as you take your punishment you'll get all the dick you want." Katsuki smirked as he grabbed your wrists, holding them behind your back.

You could hear him fumbling around in his pockets one handed, never letting your wrists out of his grip as he set up his phone to record the bed ensuring your face was hidden.

"Now, for your punishment, you're going to apologize for being a needy slut." He explained calmly as he smacked your ass again, just to hear your pitiful whines that went straight to his dick.

"B-but.." You knew your voice sounded breathless and fucked out already, and you had a sneaking suspicion you'd see this recording again in the future.

"No buts, if you want to be a fucking brat you're going to be punished. I already told you that didn't I?" He narrows his eyes at you, landing heavy handed blows to your ass until it was glowing red and your pussy was gushing.

"Fucking slut, you like this too?" He sneered down at you, and you struggled weakly against his hold-- unsure why you always felt so hot and bothered when he was mean to you.

"Apologize and I'll fuck you." Katsuki taunted you as he trailed his fingers through your slick, feeling how swollen your clit had gotten just from your spanking.

"I-I'm.. I'm sorry.." You whimpered as you kept your face buried in the sheets.

"Can't hear you, try again." He showed you no mercy as he pushed two thick fingers into you, your juices running down his hand to his wrist.

"I'm sorry!" You cried out needily, fucking yourself back onto his fingers shamelessly.

"For?"

"For being a needy slut." You finally got the words out as you panted, his fingers stretching you out and prepping you for his dick.

"Now was that so hard?" You could hear the satisfaction in his voice, and you whined, shaking your hips to entice him into moving a bit quicker.

"Want.. want my reward now please," you sniffled, and smiled into the sheets as he cursed under his breath.

"Alright alright. A deal is a deal." You shivered when you heard his zipper, eager beyond words for what was to come.

[tkaulitzlvr]

SORRY - T. KAULITZ

synopsis: you were drinking your sorrows away after yours and tom’s breakup, receiving unwanted attention at the random club you are at, until the last person you expected to see comes to your rescue.

content: angst + smut

a/n: again pulled this out of my ass this is becoming a very common theme LOL. this isn’t what i wanted to post but it’s been a week since i last put anything out so i threw it together, def not my best work and i feel like all i write is angst to smut whoops, hope u all enjoy anyway and thank u for 500 followers!!

the alcohol soon takes over as i down another shot, the liquid burns my throat and only fuels my recklessness. not that i mind, in fact, it is exactly what i need. tonight i don’t want to feel - tired of the everlasting burden of my emotions. i want to be numb, nothing but an empty vessel, letting the alcohol lead the way opposed to my diseased mind. music blares through the speakers, probably loud enough to cause some serious damage to my eardrums. but i don’t know how long i have been at this club for, though it is long enough for my hearing to become accustomed to the thick bass pulsating through my body, no longer wincing whenever i would near the speakers.

intoxicated bodies encircle me whilst i make my way to the centre, some just like me - alone and drinking away their self pity. others dance with their friends, slurred giggles leaving their lips as they sloppily sway their hips to the music, covered in nothing besides their skimpy dresses. those that i envy don’t dance alone, but with a man beside them, hands on their body, faces inches apart. they are able to focus on the one person in front of them, tuning out the hundreds of people surrounding them. but, each person that i see all have one thing in common - they fit in. and i want that too, so bad, instead of feeling so misplaced - that feeling ripe within me, apparent ever since he left.

everyone knew about tom and i’s breakup, hell, how could they not? ‘germany’s biggest heartthrob - tokio hotel guitarist tom kaulitz, parts with model girlfriend after two years!’ - that’s a headline most reporters dream of, christmas having come early for them when the news came out. and it spread like wildfire, his fans - who were particularly notorious for not being entirely fond of tom finding a long term girlfriend - had hit the jackpot. they speculated, some saying that i cheated on him, some insistent on me being too controlling - others even going as far as to say i made him choose between me and the band. but when it came down to it, they were just rumours, plain and simple. no one is aware of the true reasoning behind it - only the two of us knew why we parted.

it was a mutual agreement, yet tom was the one that initiated it. the distance inevitably put between us as a result of him travelling on tours, from continent to continent, state to state, meant that we rarely saw each other, this putting stress on the both of us. i wanted us to work, more than anything, yet the way we drifted apart from each other made it impossible, being with him feeling like a chore as every small disagreement would blow way out of proportion, usually fixed by sex, the cycle repeating for the last few weeks of our relationship, until it reached breaking point. and i didn’t want to be used for my body, though i knew deep down tom loved me for more than that, fixing our problems with physical intimacy was only a temporary solution - leading to us parting ways.

that was one reason for our breakup, however the other was far more serious, and tom wasn’t even aware of it - but i had been speculating for a while. with his frequent travelling, i knew that i wasn’t the only girl in his life. how could i have been? he would go without seeing me for weeks, and whilst he had changed past his womanising ways, it would be stupidly naïve of me to think that he had moved on from that lifestyle completely. or perhaps my mind was tricking me, the loneliness i was often left to increasing the paranoia. though he had never explicitly given me the impression he was cheating, the thought always nagged in my mind, making the breakup slightly easier once he announced that we were no longer working. he promised that he still loved me, that maybe in the future things would work out, but i knew that was just a way to make our separation less bitter.

the constant articles, pictures, videos, and speculations of tom with other women each week lead me to the present, drinking my sorrows away a month after our breakup, wishing that i had never let him go despite agreeing that us parting ways would be the best solution. i was tired too, sick of fighting for a relationship that was no longer there. sometimes it felt utterly one sided, like i was the only one willing to try. tom refused to admit this, reminding me that "i know how much he loves me". however we just didn’t work anymore, his claims of our love like empty spews of desperation, but any words uttered from his beautiful mouth were words of truth to me, until i came to the soul-crushing realisation that he doesn’t adore me the way he did when we first met, all those years ago.

but god, every time i see pictures of him with a girl that isn't me, my heart wrenches at the sight, slowly tearing my insides apart as i recognise letting him go as my deepest regret. and the anger at not only myself, but him for leaving me eats me up, alcohol and temporary fixes being the only thing that can put my ill mind at ease.

but tonight tom isn’t on my mind. i’m desperate, longing for the touch of anyone who will give me the attention. that is why i left the house wearing nothing but a tight black dress that barely passed my mid-thighs. tom would never let me leave the house in such an outfit alone. he was always over-protective over me, loving the idea that I was his and only his. however he had left me, and i don’t care how promiscuous i appear, because admittedly, i am more needy than ever. my body running way ahead of my mind, i move sloppily to the rhythm of the music, feeling two hands grab my waist gently, pulling me into them as i turn around, seeing a tall-ish guy with fluffy blonde hair smirking down me.

he wasn’t tom. he could never be tom. nobody could. not a single person on this earth could even come close to him, could make me feel the way he did, both mentally and physically. right now it doesn’t matter, i don’t care who he is, because, on the surface, he is a male giving me attention, something which i have craved over this last month of loneliness.

"hi there." I utter drunkenly, slurring my words and backing further into him, the alcohol sinking more and more into my system as i no longer care who is dancing with me, this being the first time i have experienced physical touch since tom. and oh god how i’ve missed it. i’m a mess; a desperate, foolish fucking mess. if tom could see me right now, he wouldn’t recognise me. hell, i don't even know who i am anymore - in all honesty i had lost every part of what i thought i was the second he had walked out of the door. somehow, through the alcohol and attractive man behind me, tom is all my mind can focus on - his body the only clear image in there, beyond the fuzziness from the alcohol. i utterly despise the way he has such an effect on me, knowing that he has already gotten over our relationship despite the years we spent together, even before we had started dating, we had been close friends. using all the strength within me, i drown out every thought of him, attempting to enjoy the bitter-sweet freedom and get over him.

"what's your name beautiful?" the mysterious guy shouts over the crowd, tightening his grip on my waist.

"doesn’t matter." i reply. honestly, it didn’t - i probably won’t see this guy ever again, not after fucking him anyway. in any other circumstance, i would be scolding myself for giving myself up so easily, selling myself like some cheap slut. now though, i’m no longer myself, turning to face him, latching my arms around his neck. "what's yours?"

"alex." he responds, clearly not looking to make conversation, his dick appearing to be doing all the talking. "do you wanna get out of here?" he signals to the door, my head nodding eagerly in response, craving for any intimate moment no matter who it is with. part of me convinces myself that i am with tom, that it is him i am leaving the club with, as i would every single time. i imagine that it is him holding me with such adoration, that it is him soothing me in every way possible, yet i know that he is never coming back.

my body pushes its way through the crowd, uttering broken excuse me’s as i walk by, legs becoming weaker by the second as my vision slowly blurs. i soon pick up on the reality of the situation, disgust and shame echoing within me as i realise how fucked up my mind truly is. i am about to have sex with a guy who I have never met before - whether or not tom had broken my heart, i deserved to have morals. the rationality ticking in by the second, i roughly pull out of alex's grasp, his tall frame turning around in confusion.

"i- i have to get to my friends." i lie, totally aware that i came here alone, my words barely audible as my breathing becomes uneven.

"no, come with me, don't be like this baby." he smiles, pulling me along with him, tears soon clouding my vision as the chances of me escaping the situation seem to slip through my fingers before i can gather any sense of what is happening.

"let me go!" i muster all the courage and strength within me and yank my arm away, stumbling backwards into the cold brick wall behind me, the harshness causing me to shiver as i bite the inside of my mouth, praying for something, anything, to take me out of this situation. alex nears towards me, our faces inches apart as he towers over me, my body weak and defenceless against his.

"stop being such a bratty fucking bitch and just come with me-" he begins, grabbing ahold of my arm, only to be pushed to the floor in a matter of seconds, my head looking upwards in confusion to be met with a face i dreaded and longed to see at the same time.

"fuck off!" tom begins, squaring up to alex, who is useless against him, the height difference almost humorous. if i hadn’t been scared for my life seconds prior, i probably would’ve laughed, though the only thing i am truly able to process is the confusion that soon replaces any fear within me. "you ever go near my girl again and i'll break your fucking jaw. you understand, hm?" he shouts, alex smiling to himself and walking away, clearly not looking for a fight, though his cold glare moments ago said otherwise. his girl. i am everything but, closer to being the complete opposite, though i am too startled to consider questioning his words right now.

my body refuses to move, paralysed in utter shock, wondering whether the alcohol is causing me to hallucinate. i hadn’t seen tom since the day i moved out of his house, and now he is standing in front of me. and fuck, he looks good. it doesn’t matter that it has only been a month, somehow he seems to look much better, and undeniably different. his hair, usually a dark shade of blonde, the thick locks tied into a ponytail, adorned with whatever cap matched his outfit, is changed, almost so drastically it is hard to recognise him. instead, jet black braids rest on his shoulders, the colour mirroring his entire outfit - dark and cold. his cap is replaced with a small bandana, fitted securely around his forehead, the silver piercing on his lips now just as dark as his hair, matte black, making the soft shade of pink on his lips stand out even more.

though his new look is certainly a shock, the more daunting realisation comes merely from his presence. he is here - standing inches away from me. i am unable to gauge his next move, his expression still just as harsh as it had been once he had threatened that guy. however, any doubts i have are quickly put to bed, his tensed frame nearing mine, planting a calloused hand on my shoulder before pulling me into a tight hug, his thumb caressing my lower back whilst his other hand rests in my hair. i sob into his chest, failing pathetically to hide my emotions as i cling on to him, my small frame shaking due to the cold berlin weather and my irrational state.

"i’m so sorry." he mutters, resting his head on top of mine. i cannot respond, choking on my tears and unable to do anything but hold onto him as if he may slip away. my vision is slowly blurring, the countless drinks i had making their appearance as i realise how badly i have fucked up by coming here. beyond my intoxicated state, i realise that i don’t want to be this close to tom. i long to scream at the top of my lungs, something about how he made me feel, how fucked up he is, and how much i hate him, but right now i am too shaken to even stand up alone, so i save my breath and prepare to spew my feelings out when i have the energy.

"we need to get you home." he mutters, pulling away after a couple minutes. i stare into his eyes for the first time since we broke up, his immediately filling with hurt once he registers my damaged expression. "god, this is all my fault." he whispers under his breath, guiding me to his car, grabbing his jacket that he always kept in the back for instances like this, knowing that i get cold easily. it brings me some comfort knowing that he kept the jacket there, though it probably means nothing. he places it gently over my shivering frame before climbing into the driver’s side and beginning to drive to my apartment. the house that tom and i shared was in his name, meaning that i insisted on moving out. despite us breaking up, he helped me find a place, a decent sized two bedroom apartment in the heart of berlin. though it wasn't nearly as perfect as our home, it was something, and i am grateful for it.

i face away from him, not willing to forgive him despite my vulnerable state just moments before. no matter how much he protected me just then, i can’t place my trust in him, my heart and mind still wary, the thought of him discarding me for other girls so nonchalantly after we parted fresh in my mind.

"i missed you." he announces into the empty silence, his head turning in my direction whilst i scoff in response. "don't lie to me tom." his words bring anger coursing through my veins the second they utter from his mouth, sobriety soon taking over me as the alcohol quickly wares off. if he missed me, he wouldn't have fucked every girl he has seen this past month, he would have come back, or better yet, he wouldn’t have left me in the first place.

"i'm telling the truth." he begins, hesitantly turning his gaze to meet mine, my eyes filling with tears before i can attempt to collect my composure. "i regret leaving you. i need you to-"

"do you have any fucking idea what you did to me? i haven't been eating, sleeping, you've just seen me almost have sex with a guy i'd barely known for five minutes for gods sake!" i shout, my voice breaking as the tears cascade inevitably down my cheeks, unable to hide my vulnerability in this moment. he winces slightly at the mention of me nearly sleeping with alex, his grip on the wheel increasing whilst his jaw is clenched.

he is hurt. i have known him long enough to be able to distinguish how he is feeling without him saying a word. the pained look on his face almost pleases me, glad to see him guilty over the emotional turmoil he has caused me, because i long for him to grasp even a small segment of how i feel, and my small outburst has definitely achieved that.

"i’m sorry. i never deserved you, now even less than ever. i fucked up, badly. i have no idea how to make it up to you. help me, please schatz. i want to be better, for you." he finishes, pulling into his driveway as the dark grey gates open, revealing the house that i share so many memories in, yet it feels strangely foreign, like i don’t belong here, and i never did.

"sure doesn't seem like it." i begin. "from everything i've seen online you seem to have gotten over me pretty fast. thought you were better than meaningless sex, but i guess not. same old tom." i scoff, shaking my head in disbelief of his empty words.

"what are you talking about? i haven't had sex with anyone. not since you anyway." he fires back, staring into my eyes, and for some reason, i don't think he is lying, the amount of time spent with him across my life meaning i can read him like a book.

"whatever, i don’t have the fucking energy for this. besides, you said you were taking my home. this isn’t my house anymore, incase you fucking forgot.” i state matter-of-factly, not in the mood for continuing this conversation, or even being around him.

"you can barely walk. no way was i leaving you to go home alone. you can spend the night here." he replies assertively, stepping out of the car as i do the same, slamming the door shut in frustration.

"you don't have to protect me tom. we aren't together anymore." i respond bitterly, looking down at the ground, wishing it would swallow me up. his hand gently grazes mine, testing his limits as he attempts to take his hand in mine, to which i quickly refuse, pulling away and looking at him in confusion.

"what are you doing?" i hiss, looking upwards as he puts his hands up, surrendering.

"sorry just, please come inside, you're freezing in that tiny dress." not having the energy to argue, i reluctantly sigh, following him inside, taking in the all too familiar surroundings and immediately reminiscing on all the memories i have here, longing to go back to the time when things weren't so complicated.

"look i-" tom begins, however his words are soon shortened to a stop as i quickly cut him off, lethargic and carrying a lack of effort to argue with him, because i know that no matter how long i let him speak, the conversation will only end badly, turning even more sour than it already is right now.

"i'm tired, please can we talk about this in the morning." i sigh, my head pounding as i groan out in pain, massaging my temples slowly and closing my eyes.

"okay, you take our- my bed and i'll sleep in the guest room. there's some of my hoodies in there for you to sleep in." he responds, a look of defeat evident among his complexion, relief coursing through me as i nod my head, walking up to his bedroom. the countless nights i spent in this room, wrapped in his arms, the countless mornings i woke up to his affection, the countless evenings we shared intimate moments all seem to be lost as i feel a stranger here, almost misplaced without a sense of belonging.

i open the wardrobe, immediately knowing which door has his hoodies from when i would often steal one, something he is used to me doing. i pick out my favourite one. it is simple - a white hoodie with writing printed across its front. to others, it holds little meaning, however even after our breakup, it holds thousands of memories, because it is what he wore when we had our first kiss, and the first piece of clothing he ever gave me, this small act something i won’t ever be able to forget. slipping my dress off and the hoodie over my head, his scent quickly envelops me, providing with all the security i have been longing for, my mind quickly breaking down as tears cloud my vision, my desire to have him holding me taking over as i wish that we would have never parted.

climbing into the soft sheets, i attempt to fall asleep, any element of lethargy in my body fading away as i crave to be in tom’s arms like i have been each time i have laid in this bed. his side is cold and empty, my body shuffling over to it as i snuggle into his pillow, reaching out pathetically to any remnant of him i have left. seconds feel like hours of me thinking of him, wondering if he cares anywhere close to the extent that i do, finding myself longing to take a small look inside his mind, because all i want is his love. the darkness encloses me, silence echoing throughout the empty house and only fuelling my wandering mind. every thought flashes back to him, and i loathe how he can consume my entire being without even being aware of the effect he has on me.

eventually, my eyes begin to droop, almost falling into a somewhat peaceful slumber, however before i can do so, the door creaks open, light from the hallway leaking into the bedroom, before it is cast out seconds later with the soft click of the door closing, footsteps nearing the bed as i feel it dip beside me. my body is afraid to move, instead laying still in confusion until i feel a single hand brush against my shoulder, causing me to whip my head around, tom’s eyes gazing into mine.

‘i can't do it." he mutters, scanning my eyes with his own, only the seas of brown are filled with sorrow, slightly distinguishable through the darkness.

as much as i want to tell him to leave, to scold him for disturbing me when i was finally close to falling asleep, i simply can’t. i am compelled to him, silently thanking his impulsiveness and finding myself pleading for us to work things out.

"can't do what?" i respond, laying on my side and facing him, our bodies at each side of the bed as he is slightly reluctant to push my boundaries.

"live without you, i can't do it. i need you." he replies, slowly reaching his hand out until it meets mine, his fingers clasping mine in the centre of the bed, this small act of physical affection being the only thing that binds us together, yet it is more than enough.

"you broke me tom." i whisper, blinking away the tears as i refuse to cry again, tired of being so vulnerable around him. “do you realise that?”

"i know, and i’m so sorry schatz. i’ll never be able to make that up to you. but i want to try, can you let me do that? please baby." his body slowly nears mine, until our faces are inches apart. he removes his hand from mine, my face falling in disappointment, however this quickly turns into curiosity as it moves only to reach up and caress my cheek, wiping the single tear that had fallen with his thumb. i wither helplessly into his touch, feeling completely and utterly trapped within his affection. i am bound to him, left hopeless and attached. no matter how much i try fight, it is useless, my body and my mind is unable to function without him.

"it’s only you schatz." he mutters, his face nearing mine as he captures my lips in a sweet kiss, the first one we have shared in over a month. the way his lips fit so perfectly with mine, their softness contrasting with the harshness he showed me all those weeks ago, makes me wonder how i managed to live without this feeling all this time. he is a drug, his kisses addictive as i find myself longing for more, desperate to make up for the lost intimacy as a result of our separation.

"i love you." he whispers against my lips, reattaching them almost immediately with even more desire than before, sealing every unspoken apology in the most beautiful way possible. the darkness between us is a barrier, preventing my vision from witnessing the man above me. tom reaches quickly to flip the bedside lamp on, faded yellow light leaking dimly around the room, illuminating his features as i can finally see every part of him. and oh god, is he perfect. his lips plump and parted, tinted with a rosy shade of pink, adorned with that same piercing that drives me crazy each and every time, tired and shaky breaths erupting from them whilst i stare into his eyes, deep pools of brown that i could get lost in if i look for too long.

his body. crafted by god himself - concrete proof that he really does have favourites. each inch of skin soft and sheen, resembling silk itself whilst my fingers slowly trail down it, melting into the pale surface , past his chest to his chiselled abs, gently grazing the muscle and refusing to break eye contact. my hand creeps lower and lower, tom becoming increasingly flustered until they reach the waistband of his boxers. at an agonisingly slow pace, my finger slips inside, fiddling with the waistband whilst touching the skin there, refusing to move my hand any lower whilst i take in tom’s expression. his eyes are flickering between being fully closed and half-lidded, barely noticeable wrinkles lining his forehead as his eyebrows knit together, lips parted with shaky breaths uttering from them, the cold air fanning onto my face, heavy against his warm kiss.

"fuck- please don't tease." he whispers, resting his forehead against mine and beginning to slowly kiss my lips once again, my body feeling full again as i soon realise how much i missed this feeling. complying with his plea, my hand slips further into his boxers, a choked breath muffling into my mouth as i begin to gently move my hand up and down. he struggles to kiss back, soft moans escaping from his lips and mixing into mine in the most delightful way possible as i pick up the pace.

"oh my god..." he trails off, his voice vibrating into the soft skin below my ear once his head falls just below it, my movements not slowing, the slight whines emitting from his mouth pushing me further, desperate to please him. the fast and sloppy kisses being placed onto my neck soon slow down, giving me the signal that he is close. he clutches onto my waist, his fingers running up and down whilst his legs slightly tremble, his release taking over as he lets out a loud groan, a string of curses following until he slips his boxers off, regaining his composure and climbing fully on top of me.

our faces are inches apart, my ragged breathing echoing my desperation to feel him inside me, because it has been so long since i have experienced the feeling, and it is like no other. his thumb runs along my lips, pulling the bottom one downward slowly and releasing it, before moving his head to the nape of my neck, placing slow and gentle kisses.

"you have no idea what i want to do to you schatz." he mutters against my skin, nipping at it gently, these words alone almost being enough to let go, to lose any remnant of composure i have and allow him to take me right there and then. his calloused hands reach for the large hoodie draped over my frame, pulling it over my head as i am almost completely naked, my underwear being the only barrier between us and exercising those silent promises of our love on the tips of our tongues.

"so perfect." he whispers, caressing my cheek lightly. pressing himself against me, his hand reaches to caress my now exposed breast, kissing and biting at any skin he can get access to, inaudible spews of satisfaction swallowing the silence surrounding us, my hands pushing his head further downwards ever so slightly, savouring the pleasure and wishing it would last forever. he slowly pulls away, maintaining eye contact as he reaches for my panties, swiftly tugging them downward and discarding them somewhere across the room, like the rest of our clothing.

skin to skin, the warm and bare air a mirror to our nakedness, we kiss with such hunger, such desire that our need for each other is palpable, so strong that i swear if i tried, i could feel it. because he is that love, his body living and breathing evidence that this love is real, not something that can only be felt inside, though the fire that his touch ignites within me is one that will burn forever, as long as he vows to supply the heat that is his affection. my hands clutch onto his back, his roaming my waist and pushing our hips into each other, ragged breaths echoing throughout the room as i find myself becoming too impatient. although part of me wants to savour this moment as it is our first special one in over a month, one part of me, the more irrational side, wants him to ruin me, wants him to claim me as his own and do whatever his heart desires. i am his to destroy, because if it means that i can be with him for eternity, then i am willing to do anything.

"tom…i need you." i whisper helplessly against his lips, no longer able to mask my hunger.

he places one final kiss to my lips, stroking my hair gently and positioning himself to my entrance. my eyes squeeze shut in anticipation, relishing this feeling and preparing for the intense pleasure that i have been so empty without.

“then i’m all yours.” he speaks softly, sliding into me slowly before i am able to repeat my desperate plea. because if i tried, i know that my speech would be inaudible, struggling to breathe at the feeling of him filling me up.

unaccustomed to his size, or any dick for the last month, i wince in pain before he is even halfway in, gripping his bicep and giving him the signal to stop. "wait a minute." i state breathlessly, biting down on my lip as he stops his motion, gently stroking my cheek with his palm and awaiting my permission to carry on. feeling him stretch my walls fills the hole within me, once hollow and empty, however the pain takes longer to subside, tom slowly biting and kissing the sensitive skin on my jaw whilst he waits.

"c’mon baby, you can take it." he mumbles against me, the raspiness within his voice vibrating up my spine, motivating me to tune out the pain and allow him to pleasure me. "okay." i whisper, pleasure soon starting to take over as he moves into me, stopping and throwing his head back as he bottoms out, his tip hitting my g-spot perfectly, this being enough for me to cry out, my screams echoing throughout the room, the air thick with passion. his eyes are screwed shut, sweat lining along his forehead, his breathing ragged and uneven, yet he only increases his stamina, picking my leg up and placing it over his shoulder.

the new angle sends me into euphoria, my vision turning white as i can do nothing but scream his name, my fingers raking down his back. he memorises the way he hits my g-spot, doing it over and over again, bringing me closer to my release, yet i can tell he is not there yet, prompting me to hold it so i can share my high with him.

"fuck me..." his voice trails off, his eyebrows furrowing as he savours the pleasure. my legs wrap around his waist, bringing him closer inwards, if that is physically possible. somehow he is still going, not showing any signs of lethargy. he is desperate to meet his release, hips snapping against mine with such intensity, his head buried in the crook of my neck, the incoherent groans escaping from his mouth fanning over the bare skin, sending shivers down my spine.

"tom i'm so close!" i moan, knowing that i will not last much longer. i do not know if it is the absence of sexual intimacy in my life recently, or my intense desire for him, but this time around, my ability to contain myself is long gone.

"i know baby, i know..." he sighs out, the feeling him twitching inside of me silently letting me know that he is almost there too. "just hold it for me." overstimulation soon takes over, the feeling of him moving in and out of me providing me with such overwhelming pleasure that my mouth gapes open, no sound escaping as i am utterly speechless, drunk on the sensation and a complete mess beneath him. i could cry at the feeling, on the verge of tears with each stroke, wondering how this moment is reality, seeming entirely too good to be true.

"okay baby, let go." he breathes out, his voice shaky as it is soon cut off with a choked moan, his load shooting into me as mine soon follows. i swear i can see stars, my eyes not able to stay still, my whole body the same as it trembles uncontrollably, tom’s slow and steady thrusts sending me into oblivion as he rides out our highs, his lips hovering over mine. "oh my god" is all he can say, still inside me, his mouth eventually moulding with mine, the kiss filled with so much energy despite the amount of stamina that was used just seconds before.

i am not done yet, my body feeling like it has just started as i have the motivation to go one thousands times over, addicted to the way he feels. "let me be on top." i mutter against his lips, the pillowy skin battling to try continue kissing me. in one swift motion, he flips us over, moving upwards so that his back is resting against the headboard, his hands placed steadily on my waist whilst i sit on top of him. i waste no time, hovering over him and sliding downwards, letting him fill me up and sighing loudly as i do, tom tightening his hold on me and muttering a slow ‘jesus christ’, his voice low, words as sweet as honey as they sound from the back of his throat.

pressing open mouthed kisses against my jaw, neck, collarbone, anywhere he is able to access, he groans out in pleasure, his hands remaining steadily on my hips whilst i easily maintain my rhythm. with a slight change in the movement of my hips, his tip presses against my g-spot, the friction causing me to cry out, him doing the same as his head falls backwards, eyes squeezing shut, savouring the ecstasy. my hands lay flat against his chest, watching it heave up and down with each unsteady breath he takes, his muscles flexing with each squeeze of my waist, this only encouraging me to go further, the sight of him being pleasured by me almost pushing me to my release alone.

the feeling so good i question whether i have reached heaven itself, though my actions won’t get me anywhere near, my mind wanders how i survived for so long without him, without his dick inside me, without his hands on mine - because right now he is my oxygen, my sole purpose. i can barely catch my breath, my legs shaking uncontrollably whilst my hips circle around his, feeling every inch of him inside of me. my body leans forward, skin to skin, as i bite down on his shoulder, becoming increasingly tired, however i am so desperate for my release that i continue my slow and lethargic movements.

tom is quick to pick up on my change in speed, grabbing my hips once again and angling himself correctly, before thrusting into me from below, the sudden pressure causing a throaty moan to escape from my swollen lips.

"fuck…missed this, missed you so much baby." he mutters, his whole body tensing for a second whilst he begins to twitch inside of me.

"i’m close." he groans, meeting my lips in a sloppy kiss before i can respond. i don’t even bother trying to hold it, instead allowing my release to take over me, my vision turning white as i cling onto tom’s shoulders, my head buried in the crook of his neck, crying out in pleasure as it is so intense i almost feel myself slip away. his release soon follows, mouth gaping open, eyebrows furrowing and sweat glistening his chiselled frame, outlining his muscle in the most attractive way possible. he still strokes in and out of me slowly, his hands wrapped around my small frame, no space between us. my breathing ragged, hair a mess and body trembling, i pull away from his shoulder to look into his eyes, pressing my forehead against his as i can do nothing but admire him.

“shit- i love you so much." he manages to breathe out, moving a few stray hairs from my face and planting a last kiss on my forehead, slowly pulling out of me, the loss of contact making me whine slightly as i cling onto him, afraid of losing him ever again.

"i love you too." i respond, certainty uttering from every word as i find myself more in love with him, the best sex we have ever had replaying over and over again in my memory, our naked bodies pressed together.

"i promise you, i never slept with anyone else. i never even kissed another girl. i couldn't, it wouldn't have been right, not when you were the only person on my mind." he speaks slowly yet firmly after a few seconds of peaceful silence, pulling my body further onto his as he rests his forehead against mine, stroking my hair gently.

i move my head upwards, my eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "why not? there's so many girls that you could've had. what was stopping you?" i ask, lacing my hand with his and beginning to play with his fingers, the skin soft and smooth.

"the fact that they weren't you." he responds, gently lifting my chin upwards with his pointer finger, tenderly running his thumb along my cheek. "i never got over you. i hope you know that."

deciding that actions speak louder than words in this instance, i place my lips on his, sealing our love with a sweet kiss as he instantly kisses back, laying downwards flat against the bed whilst i am still on top of him. i slowly pull away, my entire body aching, eyes fluttering shut as a tired yawn escapes from my mouth. tom reaches over to turn the lamp off, laying down beside me and opening his arms out, my head resting on his chest, his thumb running comfortingly up and down my arm. "goodnight meine liebe." he whispers, my throat sore from our rendezvous, so i place a quick kiss on his chest in response, my eyes falling shut as sleep takes me. our legs entangled, bodies together, heartbeats aligned, i feel him now more than ever. not just physically, but i feel him mentally, spiritually, our mind and being merged together as one.

requests are open! keep sending them in!!

[mizusnose]

ahem so I just read your college fuckboy mizu headcanons (which I loved) and was wondering if I could request a lil something about fuckboy mizu genuinely liking the reader so she makes changes to convince the reader she's serious. Reader would probs be SUPER skeptical bc casual relationships isn't their thing but it'd be so cute. Obvs you can just ignore this if you don't want to do it my mind has just been mizu brainrot lately

so i’ve been letting this one marinate for a bit BUT: reader who gets together with Taigen to spite Mizu who won’t get serious for reader. Cue the jealousy, club shenanigans, and poet mizu (!!)

boyfriend by dove cameron for max brainrot

———

Taigen was a fine boyfriend. All things considered. He was better than most of the guys you’d been with before, and he had a motorcycle that he’d let you take pics with and post them on your feed.

But, he wasn’t Mizu.

This point had been made several times. Mostly on Taigen’s end. His constant whining of I see the way you look at her, god I bet you thought I was a woman huh, better yet—you wished I was her huh!

He wasn’t wrong, necessarily. It wasn’t your fault you’d gotten bored and decided to go to Taigen’s fencing practice. It wasn’t like you’d intended on falling head over heels for the hot butch lesbian who had a mean smirk and a sweaty jaw when she whooped Taigen’s ass.

You still remembered the way she had her neck bared, her hair falling over her shoulders, the beat of her heart nestled in between her collarbones, the dark green of her veins under her skin.

So, yeah, maybe you did have a thing for Mizu, who may or may not be your boyfriend’s biggest rival.

Heavy quotations on the rival part since Mizu didn’t give a shit that Taigen hated her—in fact, she didn’t care that the majority of the lesbians, bisexual, and bi-curious girls on campus hated her guts.

But that was what made her interesting.

You’d thought about it often: her, telling you to leave as soon as you’d come on her tongue or strap or fingers, (whatever was fine, you weren’t picky.) and you’d feel that tug in your tummy and your jaw would relax and fall open and—

“hah, did you come?”

And then you’d be back where you started: dating Taigen and fucking him and not being able to enjoy it or come or anything.

The thing was this: You’d only ever been in long-term relationships. Never dabbled in casual one night stands that Mizu was rumored to stick by. Even if you did want her, her time was limited. And you didn’t exactly love sharing.

So, when Taigen complained about having to go out this weekend to “bond or some teammate trust building shit, pfft, as if we aren’t trying to kill each other every practice. Not to mention Mizu will be there,” You convinced him to go, and for you to tag along. As moral support of course.

Now as much as Taigen loved telling you how much he hated Mizu, he liked coming to the thought of her much more. You’d done it quite often, bring Mizu up in sex, the way she’d fence and made him look like a fucking loser. How good she’d look kissing you, having you, taking you away from him. You’d both come then, not just him.

So you supposed it wasn’t that weird to be crushing over Mizu. Especially when the weekend came and the alcohol was sweet and fizzy and the wine dark and bitter, and the club lights shimmering on Mizu’s skin, her hair, her hands as she came up behind you.

“Hey.” She said. Simple, easy, confident. Her hands brushed your exposed back, the bend of your hip, the jut of your ribs.

“Hi.” You said. Sultry, warm, quiet so she’d have to twist closer to hear you when you gasped as she held your waist, tighter this time. A little mean, “I have a boyfriend.”

And she’d chuckle, and pull away and quirk her dark eyebrow up, “Really? Him?” A barely there glance at Taigen who was with the other fencing team members taking body shots off one another, “I could be a better boyfriend than him, you know.”

She spun you around, the steady heat of her palm always on you, “You know me.” It wasn’t a question. You saw the way Mizu’s eyes dragged across your body on her way over, her tongue on her lips as she stared. She knew you were Taigen’s girlfriend.

“Been watching.” She brought you closer, shifted her hands and then you were close. Closer than you’d ever been to her before.

She smelled heady and like pinewood. The plane of her chest was defined, sturdy, and you wondered if she had small breasts, if they were sensitive.

“Can’t believe I almost went home when you’re here—all alone.” She smirked, the same damned smirk you’d replay in your mind as you masturbated and thought of her, “Think I might just steal you from him, hm?”

Her hands slipped up your back, to the bottom of your nape, a demanding grip: there one second, gone the next. She watched your face, your lips, your neck.

“Does this usually work on other girls?”

You pushed away then, your legs wobbly and your underwear damp. You wanted, but you knew exactly what Mizu thought of you: an easy thing, something of Taigen’s. Good for a night, forgotten the next.

So you straightened your clothes, and met Mizu’s confused gaze, “I have a boyfriend.”

Mizu’s mouth twitched. Barely. But you’d caught it as you turned, and headed to the bartop. Even if Mizu was who you’d wanted, being a one-night stand wasn’t what you wanted.

So, you walked back over to Taigen, beers in hand, and watched Mizu as you kissed him wide and dirty. Her glare a steely weight in your belly, and on your beating cunt.

You’d make Mizu yours, one way or another.

——-

Let’s make this a 2 parter. Poet mizu will have to wait. Thanks for the ask :)

[theyluvlyss]

𝐈 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐈 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭, 𝐛𝐮𝐭...

...you'll be able to find each ghost boy (under their respective section, ofc lol) in the master list all with the same title :). I decided to just do them all one at a time to keep from having you wait any longer/forcing myself to pump them all out in one go/one long ass post lmao.

plus, to hopefully make it easier, I'll just tag you each time as the requester so you know, if that's okay lol♡.

𝐄𝐚𝐬𝐲 𝐎𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐄𝐲𝐞𝐬

《 ♡ 》 headcannons

───────── 《 .°•♡•°. 》 ──────────

𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 :

while it's always fun to imagine (haha, get it💀) what it'd be like for him to be your best friend or your boyfriend, there's times when you yearn for that tension. that something in between that's more than a platonic relationship, but just short of being a lover. and I'm here to revive that feeling of what it'd be like for robin arellano to have a crush on you...

𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 :

fem!reader x robin arellano - she/her/hers pronouns!

𝐓𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐞 :

70s-80s - the grabber doesn't exist

𝐓𝐖/𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 :

cursing - robin lowkey being a menace💀 - him also liking you tho - mentions of fighting/violence - manhandling,,, kind of?? (idk I personally wouldn't call it that, but- 😭✋🏽) - me focusing a little too much on the jealousy stuff lol whoops🧍🏽‍♀️...

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ...𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

───────── 《 .°•♡•°. 》 ──────────

I feel like he doesn't really "crush" on ppl. He finds people attractive and that's about as far as that's gonna go lmfao. If anything, he finds it fun to recognize/point out the difference between when people are conventionally/deemed by society's standards "attractive" vs when HE actually finds somebody to be a good looker to HIM (he wanna be different so bad🙄✋🏽).

But like I said, him finding someone hot doesn't really go anywhere. He doesn't do/say anything about, nor go out of his way to force things, especially when there's no prior connection/feelings there.

On that note, I feel like for him to have a crush on you (reader), two things would need to be an order; You'd have to attract him one way or another. Like, there's gotta be something about you that makes him have that, "Oh, she's fine as hell, I gotta talk to her." mindset towards you, even if he'd have yet to act on it. And, there's gotta be, like I said, a prior connection.

Or, you could get lucky, and a very specific set of circumstances could spark something up between y'all. He's not opposed to a meet-cute😻.

If y'all were already friends/close, he'd deny👏🏽deny👏🏽deny👏🏽 having feelings for so long. Not towards you, but towards himself. He would deadass be lying to himself about liking you romantically, even a little a bit, but unfortunately, it'd be one of those things that sneaks up on him one day and then just all comes crashing down into one existential crisis.

But even after accepting them, he'd STILL not bother to do anything about it - not bc he doesn't think he has a chance (well, maybe a little bit, but see if he'd tell anyone that), but also bc he doesn't want to ruin the friendship between y'all.

He'd hate to lose you just because he woke up "...on some bullshit, bro, I can't believe I like her..." one day, so he's more than likely to keep quiet about it.

Although, he can say that's what he's doing all he wants, his actions kind of prove otherwise; he might accidentally drop a subtle hint or two, and the stuff that he normally does that held the air of friendship and loyalty suddenly becomes a bit more,,, ✨️🧡💫💋, ykwim?

If he's walking with you, maybe crossing the street or something, he could care less about how far you are behind him if it meant getting to the nearest idk Burger King or whatever faster💀✋🏽. Or at school - sure, he might be on the look out for you if he's bored, or should he hear anyone tarnishing your name without you there to defend yourself on your own, shoot them a dirty look. And even just hanging out at the drive-in; it's viewed as more of a casual hangout than anything.

But let a crush develop some,,, let him become a little infatuated with you... Now, all of the sudden, crossing the street is a whole ordeal; checking for cars is routine now, and whether you like it or not, he's got a hand wrapped around your wrist and is tugging you along gently with an alertness that both amused and perplexed you. And at school, he's now taking any free time he may have to actually go looking for you instead of your paths crossing due to natural coincidence, just to act as though he had no time at all to waste with you, and would pester you at your locker whenever he did spot you.

And, as much as he hated the way his hands would clam up and how his heart would beat out of his chest and how he practically had to force himself not to look for your reaction to every single scene of the movie he picked, he was insistent on having a specific schedule for going out to the movies now. And no, he'd never, ever let you pay, even when you really should've and definitely could've.

But...

Say if he hadn't known you beforehand tho, and y'all met through some sort of meet-cute or whatever,,, him starting to like you would be a little easier of a process for him.

Something he wouldn't be so against because there's "nothing" to ruin or fuck up besides his chances with you, so now he can pretty much just focus on not screwing that up.

He's way quicker to drop hints (not saying he's any smoother with it, but that's not gonna stop him from doing it lmfao cuz who finna check him😗😹).

It's things like really obvious (almost bad) flirting, and teasing that isn't in the same way as he might do with his regular friends. If anything, he might use it as an excuse to always be touching you in some way - OMG TELL ME HE WOULDN'T BE A CHRONIC "You got something on your shirt..." JUST TO FLICK YOUR FACE TYPE OF PERSON LMFAO!!

You'd hate it and look at him like, "😐" and he'd just get a kick out of it, looking at you and laughing every single time like he's comedy fckn central💀.

Or if he's telling you a story - probably about the last time he beat someone up - he's using you as "the other guy", gently tapping you with ghost punches and moving you about by the shoulders when need be lmao. And even just in general, when he's not storytelling,,, give him ONE good reason to try and be physical, and he'll take it and SPRINT.

And if you notice that fact (there's no way you possibly couldn't), all he'll do is smirk at you and go, "It's fine, you like it😌."

Bro just slaps on an obnoxious and obscene amount of confidence and calls it a day, basically. Fake it 'til you make it type of thing, and it most definitely works (you wouldn't be reading this if it didn't🤭🤷🏽‍♀️). But of course, let it be known he'd never do anything to make you uncomfortable. I just imagine he's rather cocky in his abilities to woo someone if he really, really wanted it, and well... it's you, so...

He really, really wants you LMFAO😭. Anyways, back on track...

I feel like he's definitely the jealous type, but he won't do anything about it/won't get outta pocket unless your well-being is at stake. Like, if you were clearly uncomfy in a situation, or you specifically came to him on some, "This guy's bothering me..." type shit, oh, it's 0-100 rq. He's absolutely beating the shit out of that person (more so than when he's just in a regular fight).

Because of that, he'll definitely be scary dog privilege, like, I'm sorry, but,,, I feel like he's the type to - once he decides he's gunning for you - that's it. Not in a possessive way, just in the sense that he's totally made up his mind and, as much as he likes to maybe slap on a chill and nonchalant-type persona, he actually cares very deeply about things and people that have an affect on him.

He's also a go-getter, so with all of that in mind, it makes sense that even if you didn't reciprocate his feelings, he'd STILL make it known that he don't play about you lmfao. But even so, jealousy is also one of those things he just deny-deny-denies, will totally brush it off if you bring it up, even if you tease him for it.

But, he is a dork at the end of the day lmao tease him long enough and he'll eventually fold and just be like, "Nah it's just cuz I treasure you and I like you, like... would you rather I didn't care or just ignored it whenever a guy looked at you crazy? Exactly, hush, you love me😌✨️🧡." Once again, it's that seemingly blind confidence that definitely has you shaking your head a lot with a giggles escaping you, but YOU ALSO DON'T SAY NO/TELL HIM OTHERWSIE, SOOO😆🤭...!!

Honestly, with Robin being jealous, I feel like it's one of those things you dk/even realize he's feeling until it's "too late" - he's stalking towards someone you've complained about making you uncomfortable or he's already done what he needs to do, he's coming back to you, and after a short conversation with you pressing him about why and whatnot, it just hits you, and you're like, "Oh...Oh my god, you're jealous🤭..." and he's all "nO😡....."

"You lyin'?😆"

"...yeah😔..."

Although, jealously for you surprisingly isn't often. Like sure, girls dk how to back off, but not only are you both pretty secure, but he's also very reassuring. Both in speaking directly to you, telling you he doesn't really have eyes for them, AND towards the other people. He breaks hearts left and right, and it's highkey not even on purpose...

Bro just doesn't know how to let folks down easy - so much so that sometimes even YOU feel bad😭. Sometimes...

"You didn't have to say it to her like that...!"

"Wha-? But it's true! Should I have lied? Like..."

"No, but I'm just-! ... You need to learn to be more sensitive about these things😭..."

"Fym, I'm the most sensitive guy I know😙."

"...The kid whose nose you broke a month ago would say otherwise, but okay🙃."

But otherwise, if and when you're not scolding him, he finds your envy to be very endearing and validating. It lets him know that you are actually thinking about him in the romantic sense like he is you, and he just likes seeing you get all worked up lmfao. Something about your brows being furrowed and the heated look in your eyes reminds him of, well, himself! And he takes a little bit of pride in that, if he's being honest with himself, especially if it's a rare occurrence.

If you're normally this little sweetheart, and you're not exactly on the violent and/or temperamental side, in those moments where you might snap a little bit, he's DEFINITELY paying the most attnetion and he's DEFINITELY standing there like, 'Omgomgthat'shot-...' 💀😭.

If anything, I feel like these strong emotions from either one of you two could for sure be the gateway into him finding out/realizing you like him back...

Like, you'd definitely slip up one time, say something you weren't supposed to, or he'd reassure you way too much and let something slip, SOMETHING LIKE THAT, and either way, he finds out and he's like "Ohp🫢...AAAAH😃🫵🏽⁉️....YOU LIKE MEEEEE I KNEWWW ITTT🤪😘🫵🏽!!!"

He'd probably be too busy celebrating the fact he "...always knew and I'm always right about these things, blahblahblah..." while you stand there like, "🙄😒..." to remember there's actually supposed to be something following up after a whole ass love confession💀.

But, because you do, in fact, love him, I'm sure you'd be the one to fill in that gap, and short after, a very chaotic yet loving/meaningful relationship would ensue.

THAT BOY LOVESSS YOU, OKAAAY💋🧡✨️‼️‼️‼️

𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐥...

...as I was writing this one (well, adding onto what had already been written), the app glitched, and the whole thing deleted itself...

shit pmo so bad, I just didn't touch it again for like a whole month😭✋🏽. it's also part of the reason why it's shorter than I actually intended, so I apologize, but I hope all enjoy it regardless🙏🏽♡.

next up is vance, tho !!

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ...𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ...𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 :

@in3rci4

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 :

1,830 words

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬 :

none :(

[maxismp1]

Friends

Logan howlett x reader

Remame of my old post from years ago

Many years passed since Logan joined the mansion. And shortly after he apeard so did she.

There was always soemthing going on. Him being the one to least interact with people, genuinely avoiding contact with other. Yet he was always somhow around her.

And her. She was similar to him, ironically. Not shy, by all means she had a mouthfull of insults for everyone.

Both of them type of people to try to get some alone time, and yet they are always found together.

That arose suspisioun around the other's. The theory were simple at first.

"they met during some battle"

"they know eachother from before"

"they are friends"

One that always somehow got discarded was "they are together"

Simply because it didn't seem like it. Logan maybe did flirt with who eh could. But her? To him, she just. Existed. Or that's what others thought.

First to start asking around was suprisingly not scoot, but hank. He would side glance at them during the misison. The way "wolverine" would be more closer to her then other x-men. Always managing to land her a hand or help her take some mutant. Meanwhile scoot would be in middle of a ass whooping, he would help her punch some low mutant she could handle herself.

Even after missions. They would be the first ones to check on eachother.

Every exhausted sigh form logan was met with her extabding her hand, making a cigar appear and giving it to him. Thankfully look would always cross his bored face.

"thanks Bub"

"you're welcome"

Short sentance we're always exchanged. Yet everytime hank would walk into a room previously filled with chasing, they would always be there.

(side note. Y/n has the ability to store things into the "inventory". She can't craft new things, onyl store them into the make shift void)

Another thing that happend was both of them in the kitchen. Cliche, I know. Soft hums filled the room, along with the soft tune of a radio.

In the kitchen were both of them. What a surprise, I know. She was moving around, walking form one end of the canter to other. Logan on the other hand just leaned onto the wall to her left. Amused look on his face as he watch her, admiring if you looked close enogh.

He was smoking his cigar and a soda in other hand. There was no beer in the whole mansion and he was sure that he was rather gona kill scoot or trow the profesor down the stairs. Again.

"yoh are squising the soda onto the floor"

Her voice caught his attention. He was indeed squising the can

"fuckin' hell, sorry bub"

"all good. Here"

Her hand was extanded towards him. A beer bottle materialised I her palm

"Got it yestrday. Here you go love"

he gladly took the beer bottle from her bruised yet soft hand

"thanks"

The nicknames weren't goneunoticed by a certain blue beast with a keen hearing. Onyl a chuckle was heard in the hallway before he disapeard

Next to actualy starts seeing the details was rouge. (comics rougher, not movie). She would tease him no matter if he was with Y/n or not. Not even a are whats the truth behind her teasings

"heard y/n 's out of the house... Finaly you can go on yer day without clinging to her like a cat onto a fur ball"

"i do not cling to her"

He rasped out as a responce. His mind somwhere else compeltly. She was out. Yes. On a mission that he knew of long ago, yet couldn't get the profesor to let him go with her. Distractions, he said.

"sure you don't logan.. I heard she's coming back in around 4 minuts"

Just as the words left he mouth he was alrady on her feet. "good to know" he gave her a s smirk before walking past her. By the rout he was taking she could tell the first place is definitly eather his or her room. Wasn't like they were Separated. No no. They were in the same room. Just diferent enetry doors. Not like many noticed anyway.

Every time one of them came back there would be laughter coming form the "rooms".

Suprisingly the last to notice and the one to make it known to all was Jean. She was in the lab per usual. Checking on hank to see what he was doing now and to get to her own lab to do some stuf.

She was doing routine checks on the files of everyone along with check ups. Her enxt file was y!/n. She opened the file and started checking the data so see if it was corect and matching with her current one.

One thing made her stop in track, her name. "Y/N Howlett /Blitz ". The last name was the thing that made her stop in her tracks. She quickly opened the file details and went to marriagale status

spouse : James Howlett / Wolverine.

Marriage : unknown

They have been married... This entire time.. That little fact made her sit up and get to Hank as fast as possible

"HANK!!"

"Jean.. What got you so worked up?"

"they are married!!"

"who is?"

"Logan and Y/N! They have been married this entire time!"

"how did you-"

"her file!"

"has no one checked her file in years?"

"yeah... That'd besides the point! Oh I have to tell Scott..."

And at that moment Y/N came true the door. Tired look on her face

"yo hank. Got them sleeping pills? Logan can't sleep agai-" she stoped to look at Jean

"... Well hello.. Anyway, Hank"

Hank looked ta je a with a slight smile

"we could say I knew" the blue hair beast chuckled and went to get the medication. Jean stayed there mouth slighly open while looking at Blitz.

Heheheh

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

hiii hello idk if you take tmnt x reader requests (ignore this if you dont take requests) but like. can you make an 03 raphael x fem!reader ?? like something with love at first sight,, ykwim :3 something kinda similar to the '12 raph x reader thingie you posted??

Foot Ninjas and Sidewalk Beauties

2003!Raphael x reader

A/N: Sure I can❤️ My guess would be that this takes place around season one or season two, but that doesn’t matter that much.

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Warnings: Spelling, turtles getting their butts kicked, Raph falling in love at first sight❤️

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Last encounter with the Foot was, just say it mildly, an absolute failure. The turtles had gotten their butts kicked and then had the floors cleaned with it. None of them had been prepared for Shredder and his ninjas. It had been a surprise attack, or as Shredder had called it, a warning. And then he left, leaving the turtles injured and bedridden for a week.

Leonardo was not happy. Not happy at all. He immediately started blaming their loss on their lack of training, giving way for him to start a ned training schedule. And Raphael did not like it. It messed with his own training. His boxing that helped him blow off build up steam was now cut short, leaving Raph more agitated and angry. Not only did he not have time for his anger relieving boxing, but his knitting had also taken a back seat. So to say that Raph did not like it, may have been an understatement. Raphael hated it.

Raph especially hated it today, as he was stuck on a roof on a Friday night, continuously doing push ups for what felt like hours. Both Raphael, Donatello and Michelangelo was getting tired, yet their older brother did not yield. He continued, telling them to do the same, to which they sighed and did. Expect Raph. His patients was growing dangerously thin, as Leonardo continued once more.

“If I have to do one more push up, oh high leader”, Raphael growled. “The Foot ain’t the only one that will feel the rage of me breaking their bones!”

“Considering how you got your ass severely whooped the last time, I would have to see it to believe it”, Mikey shot in, causing Raph to growl at him.

“Raph, you know very well that we have to be prepared”, Leo said, during yet another push up, making sure his brothers were following his lead. “The Foot have been quiet for a long time. They could make their next move at any time”.

“Leo’s right, Raph”, Donnie strained as he did another push up. “After what happened last time, we can not be too prepared”.

“Don’t even remind me of that”, Raph said. If his arms weren’t preoccupied in his forced push ups, he would be slamming his fist against the roof. “Those bozos almost broke my sai!”

“That’s why it’s important we up our training”, Leo said as he got down on his forearms. “Plank, now. First to give in takes five rounds”.

“That’s it!”, Raph rumbled, getting up from his push ups, his arms screaming in relief. “No more training! I have shit to do, Leo! All of us do!”

“Raph”, Leo said, getting up to stand, frustration visible on his face. Donnie and Mikey sighed, knowing what was coming. “It’s not up for discussion. We have to be ready for the next Foot attack, and at the moment, we aren’t”.

“Speak for yourself”, Raph growled. “I’m ready for anything! Bring those Foot scumbags, and I’ll give them a taste of my knuckle sandwich!”

And as if those had been magic words, part of a spell, a ninja star embedded itself into the rooftop, in the space between Raph’s feet. All four turtles looked up to find a small army of Foot ninjas, waiting on the tall building beside them.

“Oh, crud”, was all Raph got to say before the ninjas descended upon them.

Once again the brothers found themselves unprepared. Their muscles weak after the extensive training Leo had put them through that evening, they found it hard to keep up with the Foot. Leo was the only one that seemed to put up a fight, while Mikey and Donnie dodged every attack that came their way, too exhausted to do anything else. But Raph was not the time to dodge. With his frustrations flowing, Raph threw himself at the Foot ninjas. But with his body and mind tired, he was easily pushed back.

It didn’t take long before they had backed Raph up against the edge of the roof, with no obvious way out. Okay, maybe Leo hadn’t been so wrong after all. But it was still his fault that they even were on the rooftop in the first place!

Raph did all he could, but with every punch or push he was taking a step backwards, until his heels hit the edge of the roof, causing Raph to go off balance. He tumbled backwards off of the roof and down towards the street below. Even though Raph was tired, the sudden adrenaline from his fall caused him to think fast. He took his sais and slammed them into the side of the building, digging them into the bricks in one hard move.

Raph breathed a sigh of relief, looking down to the street below, in order to look for an easy way down. But what Raph saw was far from what he had expected. Hanging from the side of the building, Raphael never thought that anything would be able to take his mind of the situation he was in, but then he saw someone. You.

You were standing right below him on the sidewalk, in the light of the street lamp, phone in hand and headphones over your head. You cased glances down the street, as if you were waiting for something. Most likely a car.

Continuously looking between your phone and the street, you did not notice the mutant turtle hanging off of the side of the building behind you, his mouth agape as he stared at you. To say it straight forward, Raph thought you were absolutely beautiful. The profile of your face whenever you turned your head to the side, the way your hair fell down your back. The silhouet of your body and the shadow it cast on the ground below you. Raphael felt his heart beat hard in his chest. Never had he thought he would see anyone so beautiful. How could his dream girl be walking the streets of New York City, and be so much better than he ever dared imagine?

While Raph admired your beauty from afar, the car you had waited for drove up beside you. You greeted the driver with a smile, that almost made Raph loosen the grip on his sais. He watched you take off your headphones as you took a seat at the passenger side, before shutting the door behind you. Raph watched, with his heart beat so loud he wondered if you could hear it inside the car, as you and the driver drove away, disappearing down the street, leaving Raph behind with a feeling of longing. He already felt a need to see your face again. You’re pretty face, that he hadn’t had the chance to enjoy the sight of, to the fullest.

A sigh escaped Raph, in the form of a breath he did not know he was holding. He felt a tingling sensation in his stomach that made him feel happy. All the anger he had been feeling a few moments before, was gone, replaced by a feeling of joy.

“Raph!”, his big brother’s voice sounded from the roof above. "Where are you? We need some help here!”

“Coming!”, Raph yelled back, suddenly having the energy to propel himself back up to the roof, using this sai and his own strength.

As Raph jumped back into action, giving the Foot ninjas a long overdo round of a good beating, his mind kept wandering back to you, enjoying the energy the thought of you gave him. Maybe that day's training session hadn’t been so stupid after all.

[lu-is-not-ok]

Everything you need to know from Leviathan

First things first: this is Not a story summary of Leviathan. This is merely a collection of all the pieces of characterization, backstory, and worldbuilding that I believe is or will be relevant in Limbus Company.

I encourage everyone who has finished Library of Ruina (or doesn't care about spoilers to that game) to read Leviathan yourselves, as I will be skipping over most of the actual plot of the novel.

Also, due to the nature of Leviathan as the direct sequel to Library of Ruina, some endgame spoilers to that game will inevitably come up. That being said, I will try my best to keep those spoilers as minimal and vague as possible.

Preamble: Done. Let's get into this. Something something long post warning ahead. It's also kind of chaotic and borderline incomprehensible. If I missed something then, uh, whoops.

Event Timeline:

The end of Library of Ruina directly causes an event dubbed "the first miracle" by some, and "the second passing of White Nights" by others, during which the people killed in the Library would begin returning to the City as if nothing happened.

An orphanage in the Backstreets of District 22 (V Corp's) was at the epicenter of this event, being destroyed in the process and causing the Ring to take interest in the children raised there.

The events of Leviathan follow half a year after this event, and seem to take place over the course of at least a few days. It's as of yet unclear how much time has passed between the end of Leviathan and the beginning of Limbus Company.

Vergilius:

Vergilius comes from District 22 (V Corp's), a Nest filled with wide water canals and boats that make use of them, making it somewhat reminiscent of Venice.

Vergilius used to be the operator of a highly-experienced and skilled Fixer Office. The lowest Grade Fixer at that Office is Grade 3 until a rookie joins them during the events of Leviathan. This Office seems to be dissolved by the end of Leviathan after half of the Fixers working for it die.

Vergilius's title, the Red Gaze, is a stealth pun in Korean. The word used for Gaze is a homophone to the characters used in an epiphet meaning Immortal Poet.

The red eyes Vergilius is named after appear to have a certain kind of aura to them, which causes him to draw attention to himself and be easily recognised. For missions where stealth is involved, Vergilius has a special pair of glasses to make his gaze less recognisable.

Also, Vergilius owns whole-ass calling cards with his Fixer title and a portrait in a Roman-inspired style.

As a Color Fixer, Vergilius is extremely strong and fast, being able to crack the ground underneath his feet when running at full sprint and literally cut through buildings. In fact, Vergilius's body is heavily augmented with artificially woven muscle fibers, which Vergilius compares to hydraullic cylinders and motors in how it feels to use them, though they're not literally mechanical. Despite that level of power, he's noticeably less experienced or skilled than another Color Fixer seen in Leviathan - Iori, the Purple Tear.

Speaking of her, Vergilius appears to know quite a bit about her, including her name, what happened to her in Library of Ruina, and what one of her goals is. She's also implied to have taught Vergilius a technique called Shin that gets introduced later in Leviathan. Also, Iori calls him a junior, implying a difference in either age or experience between the two. Oh, and he also knew Roland.

In addition to knowing those people, Vergilius appears to have also known Carmen before she died. He recognises the nickname Carmen uses for him within the Light as the one she used for him back when they knew each other. Also, back then, Vergilius's weren't as they are now, implying they've known each other before Vergilius was a Color Fixer.

For some time during his work as a Fixer, Vergilius has had the ability to sense "Flow". A fate-like pressure that he sees as trails of shadows and light, pointing him towards a destination he doesn't know. It's a force he notably struggles to resist, only being able to by following dim Flows, rather than the slow but bright Flow. However, doing so merely brings ruin to Vergilius's life, as the dim Flow inevitably guides him back to the slow Flow.

For ten years, Vergilius has been visitting an orphanage in the local Backstreets, donating money and goods and spending time with the children there. He even keeps an old photograph of him with all the orphanage's residents on him.

Before he found the orphanage for the first time however, Vergilius would go on rampages and kill people he believed were contributing to the horrible current state of the City. One of those rampages involved the slaughter of a whole Syndicate, the leader of which was Lapis's father. It's heavily implied that all the children within the orphanage landed there as a direct result of Vergilius's actions.

Vergilius is consistently shown to be stoic and emotionally distant, yet deeply caring underneath his aloof exterior. This is most clearly shown through his relationship with Garnet, the previously mentioned rookie who was raised at the previously mentioned orphanage. Though Vergilius denies Garnet's claims that he raised him, and regularly thinks about how Garnet's sentimentality is going to get him killed, yet he also can't help but feel proud of Garnet in moments where he truly shines, care a lot about Garnet's safety, and feel horrible guilt when he fails to protect him.

Back during his rampaging days, Vergilius is unable to show mercy, with his "attempt" to do so involving giving the last survivor a cut that would let them survive for a few hours, in gratitude for giving him a code to the door. Inversely, current day Vergilius appears to have softened, as his gladius has a heating mechanism that immediately cauterizes the wounds it inflicts. This ensures non-fatal wounds remain not fatal, even if leaving his target alive could cause him issues later on.

Vergilius's motives for taking care of the kids at the orphanage despite being the one who orphaned them are as complex as they are layered. Guilt is clearly a part of that, as Vergilius believes there's no reason for him to see Lapis again when Garnet offers to take him along for his meeting with her. Another part of it might have been Vergilius secretly wishing that one day, one of the kids would realize what he'd done and take their retribution... however it's unclear how "canon" that particular motivation is due to it only being brought up in a vision of a Mirror World. The orphanage was also a reprieve from his former reality filled with wails and begging for mercy. It was a place of warmth, filled with voices of delight waiting for him every time. At the same time, it was a source of hope for him. A place where he could redeem himself, to raise children who could live with the heart he couldn't have, and who could potentially change the City with their virtues alone. All of these motivated Vergilius to cover up and forget about his true goal. One he's been actively burrying during his visits at the orphanage.

That goal? Redacted from the viewer. The first explicitly set up mystery in Leviathan. However, we know that it is directly tied to how Vergilius wishes to change the City.

Vergilius believes that the City is deeply wounded, with its injuries having festered for a long time. He believes that the way to change it is to continue spilling blood, never letting it dry out. To try and pierce through the City's thick shell into its wounded core. When describing the world he wants, he says it's "a world that can only be understood once you feel it with your whole body".

After a talk with Carmen, Vergilius effloresces into his E.G.O, which allows him to wield blood as both a weapon and armor. It also allows him to become one with pools of blood, however he would be unable to leave them if they were to dry while he's inside. However, the usage of his E.G.O is limited by the amount of other people's blood he has available to him. If he were to run out, he'd be forced to use his own, dying painfully in the process.

Also, Vergilius keeps coming up with one-liners when beating people up. It's kinda funny.

At the end of Leviathan, Vergilius is invited into Limbus Company, being promised to give him Lapis (who had been replaced by Charon) and Garnet (who has been reduced to a tiny glowing jewel) back. Thinking back on his past, Vergilius accepts, though the story ends before we get to see the exact terms of his employment.

Charon:

Previously, Charon was known as Lapis, and was one of the kids at the orphanage Vergilius would regularly visit. She was especially close friends with Garnet, who would later become a Fixer and join Vergilius's Office. In fact, Garnet notes how Lapis wouldn't usually open up to anyone but him, and when they did talk she would often talk about Vergilius. She's also noted to not be a fan of studying.

Lapis ended up at the orphanage after Vergilius killed her father during his slaughter of the Syndicate he led. While we don't get to know much about her father, we do know he cared deeply for her, to the point his last words were calling out her name.

In a flashback to her childhood, we learn that Lapis would always suck on bitter candy as she's able to preserve it and suckle on it little by little, whereas sweet things melt away much sooner. She follows this anecdote of hers up by revealing her wish to "try all the flavors in the world" when she grows up.

After aging out of the orphanage, Lapis got a job at a fruit-harvesting company. During the events of Leviathan, Lapis has decided to meet up with Garnet at a private location. However, the area turned out be occupied by Syndicate members, including that of the Ring, and Lapis was kidnapped to be used in the Ring's experiments with Mirror World technology.

At the end of Leviathan, Lapis turned out to be the only of the "gems" to have survived the experiments. However, she did so because she was the only successful one. Her former identity was completely erased, replaced by that of Charon. Initially, Vergilius is hesitant to make contact with her, feeling like keeping his distant will save both of them from pain. However, he relents when Charon finds a still living piece of the jewel Garnet had turned into.

Gubo:

Gubo is one of the researchers at N Corp, and during the events of Leviathan he comes to an auction held by the Ring for the sole purpose of gaining access to their Corridor and retrieving Aseah.

His connections to a Wing allow him to casually bid 10 billion Ahn like it's nothing. Gubo is also notably frustrated when the auctioneer appears to be breaking their own rules, trying to convince them that doing so would put their gallery in ill repute.

To enter the Corridor despite his failure at the auction, Gubo is willing to sacrifice the lives of the people that had accompanied. Notably, Vergilius is able to tell that Gubo did no fighting himself due to his appearance, reckoning he merely hid while others fought in his stead.

Gubo is someone who's willing to keep himself calm and composed regardless of the situation. He's constantly calculating ways to reach his goal, willing to do anything and pay any price to do so. However, that composure is said to reflect insecurity, obsession, and yearning. He is shown to take some ridiculous risks in pursuit of his goals, attempting to attack Vergilius twice despite being clearly outmatched against a fucking Color.

Despite N Corp being at potential odds with the Ring, due to them kidnapping Aseah, Gubo doesn't act hostile towards the Ring's members outside of getting rid of those who were directly standing in his way.

Aseah:

During Leviathan, Aseah is the main researcher working on the Mirror World technology for the Ring. He's specifically working on modifying and tuning an invention made by Young-Ji, the Glass Window.

By that point in time, Aseah had already joined N Corp, however the Ring kidnapped him to use his knowledge for their own gain. Despite such seemingly dire circumstances, Aseah does not seem bothered to be working for the Ring in the slightest.

Aseah is a cold and usually emotionless individual who only cares about his research. In fact, he only ever shows emotions, specifically passion, when realizing he's made a breakthrough or describing how the technology he's researching works. He's easily swayed to risk other people's lives for the sake of pushing his research even further.

One of this main motives for using the Glass Window is to create a Singularity to surpass Yi Sang's creation, as well as any other competing technology of this kind. Despite his self-imposed rivalry with Yi Sang, Aseah still calls him a friend.

At the end of Leviathan, Aseah is successfully retrieved by Gubo . However, a question is posed: for both to get back out of the Corridor, Aseah must be able to know how to navigate it. If that's the case and he could have escaped this whole time, why didn't he? He must have had reasons to not fly away, even though his cage was wide open. Add that to the mystery counter.

Limbus Company:

Limbus Company shows up at the very end of Leviathan, being a new enough Company for Vergilius to have never heard of them before.

A Special Operations Team from a department called LCA raids the Ring's lab, specifically searching for Vergilius. A woman with hair that seems white from far away, but appears graysih close up, approaches him. This is revealed to be Faust, and she's the one who gives Vergilius an offer.

Work for Limbus Company, and we can bring Lapis and Garnet back.

The Ring:

The Ring are a Syndicate that are said to only believe what they see with their own eyes, and are dedicated to the creation and display of various types of art. They also hold auctions for various pieces.

Some of the Ring's art falls within our understanding of it, such as paintings and sculptures. A large amount of it however includes acts of extreme violence or otherwise cruel behavior.

Many of the lower-ranking members of the Ring and Backstreets residents under their protection are considered to be akin to students, being graded on their pieces and taking art exams. While the Ring does allow resits on their exams, flunking too many times will result in death. In such an environment, a lack of inspiration causes people to have mental breakdowns.

As far as we've seen, the Ring hold two different types of art galleries, which I'll refer to as Syndicate-facing and Public-facing respectively.

Syndicate-facing art galleries are structured more like schools, complete with classrooms and suspicious "art" exhibits within the halls. One of those exhibits we see are "statues" of people with animal heads. However, these statues are actually sill living people that are forced to stay completely still under the threat of violence, or "scolding". Oh, and those people also had their mouths and ears sewn shut. This particular exhibition is revealed to be a part of a test that the Ring was holding that night.

Public-facing art galleries look more akin to modern art galleries we'd see in our world, and their lower floors are accessible to pretty much any public person. These floors are filled with more standard types of art, like paintings and sculptures. The top floor of these galleries is considered the VIP floor, where auctions are held and the true disturbing nature of the Ring is shown to the guests there.

During the auctions, every participant has a veil put over their head, and they are to bow in respect when the one holding the auction enters the stage. The art pieces sold on these auctions can be anything from paintings of real slaughters that took place in the City, to objects made out of or containing pieces of actual people, to straight up dancers stuck eternally dancing in glass stages in which time flows slower. Additionally, the person who wins the bid on the "meister's most cherished work" will be allowed into the Ring's Corridor.

At the time of Leviathan's events, the Ring not only has access to the Corridor, but also Mirror World technology in the form of the Glass Window.

A secret research lab was kept hidden within one such Corridor, where the Ring would test Mirror World technology on "gems" - young people who came from the orphanage at the epicenter of the Miracle. These experiments involved these people experiencing many Mirror Worlds at once within their mind, with those people physically shattering if pushed too far.

The Ring's goal with their research of the Mirror Worlds is to open as many Rifts to as many of them as possible, with one of the high-ranking Ring members saying they wish to open ten thousand rifts at minimum.

This plan appears to be thwarted by the end of Leviathan. It's vaguely implied that N Corp and/or Limbus Company seized the tech in the Ring's possession, leaving it unclear if the Ring still has access to it currently.

Over the course of Leviathan, we learn of two different high positions within the Ring: Docents and Maestros. Each can be identified by the kind of ring they wear on their ring fingers. Also, all of the ones we've seen thus far are gender non-conforming as fuck.

Docents are responsible for taking care of and monitoring the art galleries. Notably, they are responsible for guiding guests and giving lectures on the lower floors of their public-facing galleries. These lectures appear to involve explaining the ideals of their Maestros. Docents wear two-coiled rings that extends down the top of their hands and coils around their wrists.

Maestros are responsible for holding the auctions and appear to have a high amount of control over the Ring's actions. They wear three-coiled rings. They also notably act a lot more according to what they believe is true art, as opposed to the Docents who can still be swayed by money and social standard. As an example, Maestro Jumsoon decides to give his most prized artpiece not to the person bidding billions of Ahn, but to the person who convinces him they can complete the piece due to being personally involved in what it represents.

N Corp:

The physical location of the Ring's secret lab appears to be within N Corp's District. However, due to its entry point being connected to the Corridor, it's unable to be accessed from outside the Corridor.

One of N Corp's main source of income and culture are so-called suicide vending machines, or vending machines that dispense canned experiences that specifically allow a person to experience suicide. This bit of technology is considered both amazing and condemnable, and is said to be one of the main reasons people move to N Corp's Nest.

N Corp Taboos are upheld vehemently. Recorded footage of that secret lab, even without knowing it's located in N Corp, would result in Taboo Hunters being sent out over the breaking of the Nest filming taboo. They are highly efficient, going after everyone who had seen the recording before finally retrieving the footage.

M Corp:

M Corp's full name is MDM Enterprise. In Leviathan, we see M Corp do business with the Ring through delivering their product to them - an entire moonlight stone.

A moonlight stone delivered in a massive box filled with a flesh-like cushion around the stone. Opening the box requires using an unlocking mechanism composed of multiple various levers. Everyone present in the same room as the box during its opening are required to wear ear plugs, while those actually opening it also require airway protection. Upon being pulled open, the stone needs to be cut out of the flesh cushion using a knife.

If sufficient ear protection is not worn during this process, the sound the stone emits while being forced out of its container will cause all that hear it to experience a "wave of hiraeth". This is shown as a sort of dissociative state where the person rambles about the ocean being their home and family, and how they need to return to it.

The moonlight stones themselves appear similar in shape to large pearls. The Ring appears to use them by putting them in translucent containers, where the stone is attached to multiple electrodes and tubes for a yet unclear purpose.

The Light:

After the second passing of White Nights, people would begin transforming into forms similar to cocoons or eggs. This happens when a person becomes aware of how unbearable the world around them is, causing them to retreat from reality.

When seperated from their bodies, people establish their... Redacted. Yet another mystery. However, it's implied to be something along the lines of the ideal world they wish to create, or the dream they wish to make true. If they manage to set this Redacted and endure the process, they can be born anew as a Distortion (or potentially with Effloresced E.G.O). If they can't their bodies are seized by their sins, resulting in the creation of a Peccatulum.

This process is pointed out as being different to the process of Distorting that we're used to seeing, though it's not yet unclear to what extent.

The inside of the Light as utter stillness, shimmering as if somethered in light. When someone is inside the Light, Carmen attempts to guide them towards a specific conclusion, acting kind and trying to absolve them of any guilt over their actions, while showing an utter lack of pity or genuine feeling. She's able to see past the facades people put up, directly looking into what they have been through. She uses that knowledge to direct people towards realizing their true desires and wishes.

Carmen is able to meet and talk with people whose hearts "crack". Who are too overwhelmed with their emotions in the moment. When she discovers a person's true wish has been buried and hidden away, she acts as if the act is so painful that it hurts her by proxy. She uses this opportunity to offer these people the power to create they consider right, one only for their own eyes.

She claims that she's helping everyone paint the City with their own colors, much like the Light, in which all colors perfectly blend together. When it's pointed out to her that doing so would be impossible, due to everyone's colors being different and thus it being impossible for them all to exist together in perfect harmony, Carmen responds by saying everyone should be dedicated to protecting and fighting for the sake of their own world, even if it means fighting the entire world itself.

Carmen describes the process of Distorting or Efflorescing E.G.O as becoming a "self unbound by the eyes and standards of the City", with Carmen attributing the latter to being Ayin's idea. Carmen says that she believes the final destination of everyone's ambitions is Love, specifically unconditional Love towards oneself, as the only person that can truly understand and love them is themself. This is where Carmen and Ayin come into conflict. Ayin believes people should be able fight using clothes and tools, holding the human form in high regard. Carmen, on the other hand, sees that as unnecessary moderation, and argues one should express their love through their body, so that it and their heart can become one.

Effectively, Carmen is trying to guide people to only caring about themselves and their desires, disregarding everything around them. She does so through a "friendly, yet ruthless pressure", by offering the seemingly perfect solution of absolute self-love at the cost of being blind to one's reality. She knows what the "right" choice is, and will be disappointed if one were to choose the other option, but she won't stop anyone from pursuing their desires even if their way is different from what she's envisioned.

...There is a purpose to it all. A goal Carmen has for herself. After all, she's a person too. It's another bit of information that's redacted, setting it up as yet another mystery, but we do have a hint towards what it could be. Somehow, a person who was given power by Carmen failing to fight for their wish appears to contribute towards Carmen's personal purpose.

Speaking of that, Leviathan reveals another, more violent way to defeat a Distortion. By proving the fundamentals of a Distortion's beliefs wrong, by breaking the foundation upon which their wish was built, the Distortion begins to fall apart. With nothing left to its form but vague concepts, an Abnormality is born, tearing out of the Distorted person's body and killing them instantly.

Peccatulae:

The Peccatulae are the result of the process enabled by the second passing of White Nights, in which a person retreats into a cocoon-like form upon finding the world too unbearable and faces an ordeal within. If the person fails the ordeal by not being able to find a wish for which's sake to return to their world, their body is left to be fed on by their sins. This results in their bodies transforming into manifestations of those sins - the Peccatulae. Once this transformation takes place, it cannot be reversed.

Peccatulae are not Distortions, as they are what happens when one lacks the strong desire needed to either Distort or Effloresce E.G.O. They are also not Abnormalities, as unlike them the Peccatulae can be killed.

The Peccatulae visually lack any humanity they may have had before the transformation. At the same time though, the cries they let out are compared to that of humans burdened by life, by the sin of bearing sin.

Those cries are also seemingly able to affect one's mind, causing memories associated with the Peccatulum's Sin Affinity to resurface.

The Glass Window:

The Glass Window is a piece of technology created by Young-Ji, which was co-opted by Aseah and studied by the Ring. This technology is considered to be a Singularity by Wings and Grade 1 Fixers.

The main function of the Glass Window is superimposing Mirror Worlds onto whatever is viewed through it, though in a blurry state. It's noted to be less stable than Yi Sang's Mirror technology, but in exchange it's capable of superimposing a much larger number of Worls at the same time.

The amount of Mirror Worlds and their intensity can be controlled through modifying the Glass Window's Refraction Rate. A higher Refraction Rate allows more overlayed Worlds to stack, at the cost of "yielding more of one's heart to the Glass Window".

Surviving high Refraction Rates without physically shattering involves attaining focus - a process involving perishing one's heart without killing it.

Most weapons cannot damage the Glass Window.

The Corridor:

The Corridor is a piece of technology that the Ring owns during the events of Leviathan. It's a liminal, seemingly-infinite space that can connect to places all over the City. As long as the area they wish to link has an exit, a matching entrance will appear within the Corridor.

Many of the doors within the Corridor are locked using mental locks, to be able to enter them one needs to think specific mental keywords as they attempt to open the door.

Inside the Corridor itself, electronics such as video recorders and ear pieces appear to malfunction.

Despite the Corridor being a mostly linear space, the complex and intricate rules by which its passages connect make it more than possible to get lost within. As such, navigating the Corridor is usually done when accompanied by a guide.

To navigate the Corridor by oneself, one needs to always remember two things - their starting point, and their destination. Knowing those two points will allow one to be able to find their way by feeling which directions to take. This is due to a phenomenon called Reversion of Causality, a phenomenon which some Singularities take advantage of as well.

Breaking through a wall in the Corridor leads to a massive hall made of constantly shifting purposeless surfaces lined within even more purposeless doors. Staying within this outer hall is dangerous, as one would become stuck here if the doors within the Corridor reassembled themselves.

Shin and Mang:

Shin is a technique Vergilius learned from (who's implied to be) the Purple Tear. Shin involves completely relinquishing the control of one's body to one's mind, specifically one's memories and the feelings associated with them. When Shin is used, it causes glowing rings to appear around the weapon (or body part if weaponless) one is using to fight. The glow of these rings is constantly emphasized to be that of the moon.

Vergilius describes Shin as "the power of Light", and "the power of sin".

To use Shin, one needs Mang (referred to as luna/lunae when not a proper noun), often multiple of them. Using Mang is described as filling onces emptied minds with dense and heavy memories, then letting the lunae of these recalled feelings guide one's movements.

Random Miscellanous Bits of Info:

It's a tradition in District 8 (H Corp's) to gift apples on Christmas Eve, to wish the giftee a peaceful night.

Cellphones in the City seem to be at a stage in-between Iphones and slightly older smartphones. The screen only takes up roughly half of the phone, but it appears to be a touchscreen due to the lack of mechanical buttons.

Related to that, payphones also exist in the City. The District the payphone is in gets shown to the one recieving a call from one.

The Seven Association holds seminars for new and aspiring Fixers that teaches them the basics, such as information about major Syndicates, Singularities, spatial awareness, etc. The Seven Association also holds Fixer qualification tests.

Higher education is something one can pursue in the City.

There are still video recorders that use videotapes in the City.

Cognition-warping ID Cards are a thing within the City. However, they are noted to only be useful for brief deception.

One of the canonical Mirror Worlds is literally our world.

Airplanes don't exist in the City.

[chronically-ghosted]

the only thing we have to fuck is fear itself

rating: 18+

pairing: max phillips x f!reader

word count: 5309

summary: You get drunk at a happy hour and tell Max to his face you don’t find him scary at all. He takes that personally.

warnings/tags: drinking, like two seconds of scary vibes, smut, (secret) established relationship, work hard, play hard, have secret sex with your coworker even harder

a/n: I’m so sorry to FDR for butchering his quote for the sake of a title, but i like to think that horny bastard would have loved my smut.

🤍AO3 Link 🤍 Masterlist 🤍 Get notified when I post new works!

Despite working at a place that was quite literally soul-sucking, your coworkers could throw one hell of a happy-hour. 

There wasn’t a bartender in a ten mile radius from the office who didn’t know you all by name, didn’t shout a greeting over the tightly-packed house the instant you walked in. Rarely was it just a single crew member at the bars – you often got accused of moving in a pack like a five-headed hydra that could drink double its own weight in liquor, beer, and frosés – and being only two-fifths human, the Monster Squad was an alcoholic force to be reckoned with.

Maybe because you actively promoted unity amongst the species, like poster children for positive and “non-toxic human-demon relationships” HR kept encouraging in their Monday-Funday email blasts, but your little group was something of a legend in the area. You thought any notoriety was more likely due more to your faces plastered all over the bars’ trivia night winner boards, but in the office, people tended to stare. Trish, a siren from Santa Barbara, loved the attention, said it was good for her skin – gave her a “dewy” look. Nita, the only other human in your group besides you, disagreed with Ken (a quarter leprechaun on his mother’s side) when Ken claimed the whispering came from the sheer volume of nonsense that started around 4PM in the office on Fridays and continued until you all left the office. Ken was of the belief that the notoriety was actually infamy – to which he was promptly booed and had to buy the next round. 

And yet, to yourself, to the quiet conversations you had in the bathroom mirror after two long island ice teas and whatever was in what the centaur bartender at Lucky’s called an “Ass Whooping”, you suspected there might be another reason the Monster Squad even had a name at all. Within your own fields, each of you were respectable – Ken and Trish were both heads of marketing and Nita oversaw a considerable team of engineers, with you of course a department leader over in legal – one member of your group was, let’s say, more well-known. 

Well-known because he was the flashiest, the loudest, and certainly the most demonic of you all: Max Phillips, VP of sales, money-maker extraordinaire, and a fan-favorite amongst your Overlords, the rest of the sales team, and anyone with working and interested sex organs in the near vicinity. 

To your complete and utter annoyance.

You don’t quite remember how you all came together, who brought who into the group, and when it was unanimously decided that you’d stop snatching up office workers like limes at $5 margarita night after Trish, but it was Max who kept you together, who set up the group chat (somehow mysteriously gathering all of your phone numbers after a very late night), who bullied anyone who responded to his weekly “winner winner liquid dinner” texts every Friday morning with a tepid maybe into coming out that night. He already seemed to know half of the bartenders in the city, all of whom were happy to send over a free round of tequila shots as a “thank you to Max’s friends”. While you’d never look a gift vampire in the mouth, you were suspicious of his influence. Was that vampire hypnosis real? Did he have a pack of lesser, baby vamps to send out to tenderize the hunting grounds?

One thing’s for sure, he definitely didn’t scare them into it. 

“Has Halloween, like, changed for anyone else?” Nita grouched over her second Sangria Spritzer two hours into another fantabulous happy hour at Heel Clicks. The four of you were huddled into your comically small booth up on the landing near the back bar – of course there were other seats available but this had the best view, the closest access to your favorite bartender, and at some point, the shoulder-to-shoulder proximity served as a way to counteract the tipsy swaying. 

Trish leaned around Ken, her beautiful blue eyes sparkling with curiosity. 

“What do you mean?”

“I dunno,” Nita shrugged hopelessly. “It used to be one of my favorite holidays when I was a kid. I loved the candy, the costumes – all of it. But I really liked being scared the most.”

Ken sorted into his old-fashioned. “Well, if you’re still scared of things you were as a kid, Nit, I think you’ve got a bigger problem than seasonal preference.”

She elbows him and he knocks into Trish.

“Not like that . . . but, like, monster movies aren’t really scary anymore? I mean, I used to watch Ginger Snaps religiously around Halloween, but, uh, now that I know an actual werewolf and he’s the nicest little old man in accounting, I dunno . . . it’s just not the same.” 

“Sorry to burst your bubble on monsters,” Ken shrugged. “But I personally cannot relate. As a member of the Free Folk, my people have always been welcomed, seen as bringers of good will towards man.”

“You know there’s eight movies where a leprechaun murders literally dozens of teenagers, right?” You turned to Ken over Nita, your entire right buttcheek hanging off the edge of the booth. 

“Oh, yeah, baby Jennifer Aniston,” Trish mused, thinking. “If that’s what your uncle looks like, Ken, then I posit Halloween is still fucking creepy.”

“Halloween is definitely creepy and it sucks.” Your ringleader has returned with electric-green jello shots. Max Phillips carried a tray with one hand, his immaculate blue jacket gone to display firm forearms underneath his white, rolled-back sleeves. “Bunch up, kiddies, Daddy’s back with treats.” 

Half the group groaned, the other squealed in delight.

Max hip-bumped you, his ravenous cologne immediately making you think unwise thoughts, as he pushed his way onto the bench absolutely not made for this many people. He looked back at you as he passed out the drinks.

“Now why are we all in agreement that Halloween is a lame holiday?” 

“Nita claims that because she personally knows a werewolf – Ned, right? – she’s not scared of monster movies anymore.”

Max scoffed. “Well, there’s your problem right there. Werewolves were never scary to begin with.”

“What monster movies have you been watching?” Nita gaped at him. “Maybe it’s bad representation, but all the movie werewolves can tear you to shreds!”

Ken nodded solemnly. “This is why affirmative action is so important.” 

Trish smacked him over the back of the head. 

“So, what?” Max continued, crunching up the jello in its plastic cup. “Now that you know me, a vampire, you think all Dracula movies give blood-suckers a bad rap?”

“No, being a human-sized mosquito with too much hair gel is doing that all on its own.” You smirked, dead-eyed, at him. Behind you, Ken and Trish snorted so hard they almost spilled their drinks. 

Max narrowed his eyes at you, in a look he only gave you when you wouldn’t let him ease around legal loopholes “for the good of the business”. Only Nita seemed to be oblivious. 

“That’s a good point, Max.” She thoughtfully stirred her jello with her pinky, unsticking it from the sides of her cup. “I mean, I guess I never watched that many vampire movies to begin with.”

Max broke his heated staring contest with you to look around at Nita, elbow pressing up into your chest as he leaned forward on the table. “I can promise you, doll face, vampires have been and always will be more terrifying and lethal than werewolves.”

“Not the argument I think you want to make, mate,” Ken murmured as you shifted yourself to face Max entirely. 

“Oh, yeah? Enlighten us all –,”

“Nope,” Trish called down the row, “we’re taking this shot before you two get into it again.”

“To Ned!” Ken yelled. 

“To Ned!” 

Plastic crunched, tongues slurped, as jello ungracefully slipped into every open mouth down the bench. You licked your lip, tip of your tongue green. Max watched the movement out of the corner of his eye. 

“So, enlighten us, Max, why should we be so afraid of you?” 

Max grinned out the side of his mouth. “One, I’ve seen more bite out of a pomeranian than one of those Tribbles. And two, whatever-wolves can only get it up once a month. I’m all monster, all the time, baby.”

At this, everyone groaned.

“Dollar to the Dick Jar!” Trish smacked her hand on the table.

“Here, here!”

Max pouted as he took a dollar out of his wallet and slammed it into the center of the table, payment towards tips or the bill or whoever suffered the most due to The Dick. 

“Face it, buzz,” you shrugged as he put his wallet away. “You’re just not scary any more, if you ever were.”

“Is that right?” 

Fuck, you were in a lot of trouble. Beneath the table, his thigh soaked yours in heat. 

“That’s right.”

“You know what is really scary?” Ken muttered, digging around in his crushed up for the last remnants of jello. “Kelpies.”

“Ah – yes! They’ve got sloppy fangs covered in algae!”

“Hey – that’s my cousin you’re talking about!”

Heel Clicks was hands down one of your favorite bars in the area. Devoted to the local music scene in the area, the vibe was a mix of old 70s rock bands, modern steel, and whatever justified lots of mounted horns and hairy cow-skin stools. The drinks were great, seasonal too, and there was always live music on the patio out back. In a twist that you found particularly cool, the old rum-runners tunnels had been converted to comfortably spacious bathrooms in the basement. Behind the solid oak door, the noises from the above bar are nearly entirely muffled, making the slow descent to the bathroom something of an out-of-body experience when you’ve had a few and the sudden silence is almost an echo. 

Plus, these fucking stairs are a death trap. 

You embarrassingly clutched at the railing, the wooden stairs at far too sharp an angle even if you were sober as a judge, much less at a Monster Squad happy hour. 

Stupid Max and his stupid drinks and his –

What was that?

You stand up right on the third to last step, listening. 

In the half darkness in front of you, there are three paths available. To the left, employee storage, the lights above the door flickering, the sign reading “do not enter” pulsating in and out of visibility. To your right, another door, maybe an exit. Always unmarked and always locked every time your drunken curiosity got the better of you. 

And across from the stairs were the bathrooms, left women, right for men.

God, what year is it? Shouldn’t it all just be gender-neutral? You think to yourself, a tad bit more aggressive than you’d usually oppose the gender binary – primarily to wash out the rising concern at the back of your neck.

You are alone down here. It’s obvious. It’s not like there’s that many places for some dastardly villain to hide. Four shut doors and three hallways. Unless some maniac was curled up under the stairs, you are the only person in the basement. 

At least, the only person you can see. 

You don’t realize how sweaty your hands are until you try to continue your way down the stairs. You take a step and nearly slip, the eyes you know are on you somehow laughing. 

One blinking light. No where for anything to hide, so why are you so nervous? You are an adult woman, for god’s sakes. You make it to the floor, the most likely candidate for your demise behind you and –

The stairs creaked. 

The empty stairs that you just walked down creaked and you nearly leap across the hallway to put space between you. Heart in your throat, you make the monumentally stupid decision and call out, “hello? Is anyone there?”

As if the serial killer was just going to announce himself, give up the whole element of surprise.

Blinking through the bleary haze of too many drinks, you take out your phone and flip on the light. A white beam chases back the encroaching darkness, a frantic worried ghost peering through the gloom. And yet, like you consciously know, there’s nothing there. But the darkness feels heavier, the eerie distant noise from the bar above so quiet and removed the sound is more of a memory – the idea of what comfort and community should sound like. But it’s not. It’s too far gone – if anything were to happen, it’d be hours before they found you. If they did at all. 

“Oh my god,” you scold yourself, squeezing your eyes shut. “Get a fucking grip and go pee and then go back up those fucking stairs and –,”

Okay, that was definitely breathing.

Breathing, right behind you. Ragged, hungry, disembodied breathing, in your ear and your heart ricochets into your chest. Your own breath turns short, choppy, panic swelling into your ears, over your fingers. You think you might drop your phone, your fingers are so numb from fear, so you clutch tighter, the trembling throwing white light across the paneled wood in a craze. 

Be rational, this is crazy, there is nothing down here! 

The stairs snarl again and you squeak, all but bolting for the women’s bathroom, desperate to put at least some space between you and those fucking stairs, put some boundaries between –

The door is locked. When the fuck is this door ever locked?

Panic recedes to overwhelming rage because fuck, fuck, fuck, now you’re trapped in here – you can’t go back to the stairs – you rattle the handle, shaking the door against its lock –

“Fucking let me in!”

The light above the exit door goes out. And then the other. You throw all of your weight against the bathroom door. You claw at the handle, begging it to give way. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck – you can hear the darkness breathing –

No, speaking – it’s saying something, chanting, mocking, calling out – calling out your name –

The door suddenly unlocks and you stumble forward – into something solid –

Its hands grab you and like a fucking fool, you played right into its trap. 

It turns you, throws you up against the tile wall, its claws around your shoulders, cold tile against your cheek and you whimper. Whimper when you feel the soft pin-prick of fangs against the back of your neck – fuck, this is how it ends?? – and –

“Got you.” 

That voice.

That condescending, snide, bratty, little –

You elbow the solid body behind you and Max lets out a puff of air, staggering back. You whip around, nearly snarling in his smirking, beautiful face. The bathroom is dark, black tiled walls and floors with a faux-wooden sink and dim lights across the top of the mirror. In the flushed orange light, his eyelashes encourage thick shadows under his eyes and in the collar of his throat. If it wasn’t for that insufferable smile, he’d look painted from thin brush strokes and heavy scarlet paint. 

Caravaggio, eat your heart out. 

“Max, what the fuck was that?” 

He rolls his eyes, rubbing the spot on his chest where you hit him, at the top of his ribcage. “Oh, c’mon, it was just some fun. Saw you sneak off after you got Nita’s drink and thought I’d mess with you just a bit.”

You sigh, willing your heart to slow down, throwing your gaze to the ceiling and dropping your head against the tile.

“God, you asshole, I thought I was gonna die.” You swallow and move your hair out of your face. “You scared the shit out of me.”

“I what?”

“You scared –,”

That smile, the crack of fangs across his mouth, widens, the bottom of his lip rolling back over the cut of his teeth, those brown eyes melting into a warm, obscene black, as he meets you hip first against the wall. 

His hands climb over your waist, as though daring you to hit him again, and your thigh muscles tighten. Your hands instinctively trace the exposed skin left by his opened collar at the dip of his throat when he comes closer, chest pressing up against yours, nose against your temple. 

Fuck, it shouldn’t be this easy for him. You sigh through your nose, eyes rolling shut, when he nips at your cheek.

“I think you were supposed to be mad at me.”

“I am,” you groan. “I’m livid. I’m enraged. I’m –,”

His thumb brushes your ribs – not tickling, not entirely touching, but just reminding. Reminding of the force behind his touch, behind his teeth. 

“Baby girl,” he chuckles softly, the sound running down your neck like rain, “you’re melting in my arms.” 

“This doesn’t mean I’m scared of you.” You focus on the softness of his hair between your fingers, the heat of the back of his neck beneath the pads of your fingertips – resolutely ignoring the radiating scent of his cologne coming from up under his collar. More than once had he come across you in his apartment bathroom, sniffing that bottle like some dopey perv looking for a quick fix. Of course, instead of admonishing you, he bent you over his sink and fucked the daylights out of you, his wrists singing with the smell of that cologne. Now he wore it to work wherever he wanted something from you, particularly to overlook some pesky lines of legalise. 

In the hallowed darkness of the bar’s bathroom, he drops a single kiss just below your jaw, inches beneath your ear. He grumbles when your pulse there quickens, and again his fangs find a curve of skin to press against – a reminder. 

Always reminding, always lurking, a threat without a promise.

And he knows exactly what that does to you. 

You release a full body shudder when his hands drop lower, guiding you back against the wall, fingers rounding around your thighs. Like interlocking pieces, your bodies slide together, your arms curling around his neck, the heat of his chest branding yours as it forces you against the wall. You’re breathing all wrong again, but for different reasons this time. You catch a flash of the ink-well darkness of his eyes when he nuzzles out of your neck to admire the mess he has made of your skirt.

“Can I fuck you in this or is this thing too tight?” He asks, like he specifically didn’t get on his hands and knees and beg you to wear that gray pencil skirt only twelve hours earlier. 

You lean up, snagging his bottom lip between your teeth, kissing him roughly and showing him he’s not the only one with a little bite. He groans softly, one hand curling into your hair at the base of your skull, and he licks you, from the front of your lips up to the valley of your mouth. He tastes like the sweetness of his whiskey n’ coke, his tongue rubbing the flexing muscle of yours, the sharpness of your molars. You could spend hours just sucking on his plush mouth. 

Maybe he did scare you. Maybe he should have scared you more, the threat of anyone discovering your relationship a real danger to both of your careers. Maybe it should have scared you, how little you cared about any of that when he palmed your breast over your shirt. 

You inhaled over his mouth, popping off his lips with a moan, his hand cupping you roughly as he dove in to suck marks on your neck. Every moment that passes, you feel your skin ratcheting up with heat, blood almost hot. He thumbs your perk nipple through your shirt and you arch your chest, his massive palm nearly cupping your ribs to your spine.

“Max, either you figure out how to fuck me in this skirt or you owe me a new one.”

“You want me to rip it off you?” He slurs, eyelids heavy, his thigh slides in between your knees, the fabric preventing him from going higher, to the place where you both need him. You groan in frustration and his hands squeeze your hips at the sound. “Tell me fast, baby, because I can’t–,”

“For the love of – just fucking lift it up–,” His hands fumble over yours as your fingers curl under the hem, his own want making that brilliant mind for numbers almost stupid. His warm fingers overwhelm your own as they push your skirt up your waist, and then dig around the line of your pantyhose. 

“Jesus Christ, are you trying to Fort Knox me out of your pussy? Why are there so many layers?” 

You hiss at him as you slide out of your heels and shove your nylons to the ground, hopping on one leg to take them off your feet. “It’s like you’ve never undressed me before.” 

Freed of the chaos of your underthings, Max’s hands rush to his belt, the clinking of the metal sending shivers down your back and straight up your cunt. He doesn’t notice because he’s obsessively watching your thighs. “I’ve never undressed you with our coworkers a floor above us and probably becoming increasingly suspicious about where the fuck we are–,” 

You take him by the back of the neck, hand clenching around the starch white of his shoulder. He comes to you, zipper digging into your hip bone as he pulls you up off your feet. For once that chatty mouth is quiet, open and wet with desire as he takes in your flushed face, the blood pumping under your tits. Max is nothing if not almost supernaturally consumed by the look, feel, texture, and taste of your tits. 

The look on his face is one of those reasons you tend to throw caution to the wind, why your heart almost feels too big for your chest, whenever he’s around. 

He hooks an arm around your low back, tilting your hips forward. You feel the heat of his cock somewhere below you and it takes all of your strength not to grind down. 

“Max –,” he’s not even inside of you and you’re already begging. You bite down on his ear to stifle whatever was rising up your throat. 

“Hang on, baby, I gotta make sure you . . .”

Using your shoulders as counterbalance, he holds himself up against the wet warmth of your cunt, breath stuttering as he rubs the head of his cock against your slick folds. That bratty aloofness is gone; he wants to sink so, so deep into you.

“Fuck, baby, I didn’t even get you ready – but you’re already so wet –,”

You don’t resist grinding down now and he knocks his shoulders forward, needing movement, but fighting against the urge to buck up into you, gasping from the feeling of your cunt. 

“Please, Max, just –,”

“Yeah, I know, baby, okay, just, I gotta . . .” 

He angles himself and you arch your back, unable to watch with the mess of your skirt around your waist, but he finds it, finds your opening, the place he loves to mark, and without any warning, thrusts his length up into you. 

The stretch, the surprise, the ear-ringing split between being empty and then stuffed so full – you can’t help but moan so loudly, you sing to the ceiling. For a moment, your bodies hum with the stillness, the blood in your cunt pulsating around him, you claw at his broad shoulders, need him closer, needing that smell of him that haunts your empty bed as far inside of you as his cock is. His hips stutter and he presses one hand against the tile by your ribs, teeth clenched against the sensation. 

“When I fuck you, every time feels like the first time. Every goddamn time.” 

It’s not particularly the confession it could be, but you shake your head, clearing it of anything stupid like feelings for Max Phillips, your chin brushing his jaw, his nose against your ear. 

“Then do it,” you whine. “Just fuck me, Max.”

With a groan that could be mistaken for a snarl, he lifts you both up right, pushing your hips down and spreading yourself over him. You lock your ankles around his back a second before he pulls out halfway, then to jerk back in with such force and precision your eyes roll to the back of your head. He sets a pace that has pleasure weaving a tight drum just under your stomach. Each sweaty thrust fires sparks up your spine. He really is so fucking good at this. 

This is the release you need, you both need. Sure, it’s an after-effect of having a high-powered job, but it’s also more than that. Max fucking you is unfortunately very often the highlight of your day. He knows what you need, how you need it – how hard to drive his cock into you, it makes you tongue-tied and dizzy. The fast pump of his cock, how it feels to split you apart over and over again, the back zipper of your skirt digging into your back – it’s too fucking good.

“Don’t know where you get off giving me orders,” he grunts, the pounding of his hips into yours rapidly shoving you up your ascension. The slapping, wet noise in the empty room is obscene. “I’m a fucking VP, little girl, and I–,”

You tense your muscles around his cock and he fumbles, his knees buckling momentarily. 

“Do not fucking bring up the org chart right now,” you hiss, your own edge yanked away when he stills. “I’m almost there–,” 

Quicker than he’s been all night, Max lunges forward, mouth open and teeth bare. He bites your neck and then he bites you. 

Fangs puncture your skin, not deep, but enough that your body is thrown into a messy coil of nerves and adrenaline. It knows you could die like this, even if you’ve only ever called the vampire a mosquito to his face, and triggering a self-preservation instinct, your body trembles from the sudden blast of sensation.

Your pupils dilate further than they were, your skin becomes overly aware of every drop of sweat, every flutter of hair, every rub of flesh – and your fucking nerve-endings feel like static, as if brushed by lightning. 

Pleasure so-white hot it almost burns roars up your spine, slick coating his cock inside you, and you cry out. Wail in his ear. Begging him to make it better. To give you your release. The feel of his cock pounding up inside your now-overly ripe cunt brings tears to your eyes.

“Oh, fuck – fuck, fuck, fuck – Max, p-please –,”

“Can you handle it if I touch you?”

You shake your head. “Yes, yes, please, touch me.” 

“You can’t keep screaming like that,” he scolds you breathlessly, the punch of his hips bouncing you against his cheek. For all his vampire stamina, the flush of exertion across his cheeks is truly staggering and a triumph for your ego. Flecks of blood dot his mouth. “Someone’s going to come looking.” 

“I don’t care,” you groan, angling your hips to take more of him. His hand not on your back cups under your knee, tugging it higher up his torso. His pace is relentless, overwhelming – with his weight on top of you, and his cock up under you, inside you, you’re consumed by Max Phillips. “Whatever you do, d-don’t stop. Don’t stop.” 

“You scared I’m gonna?”

“Yes,” you whine. You can feel your heart pounding out its shape into your ribs. 

“Good girl. And good girls get to fucking come.”

Balancing your increasingly limp body, he holds you up right, his hand snaking beneath your skirt, between the sweat of your thighs and his torso, and –

He thumbs that buzzing bundle of nerves, “come for me, baby”, and you do. You come screaming, the tension snapping, vision sparkling with stars, and you are shoved over the edge. You don’t know you’re wailing his name until he comes too, all concern for getting caught seemingly gone as he begs you to continue as he fills you up with his pearly, gooey cum:

“That’s right, say my name. Say my fucking name, sweetheart.” 

His hips thrust weakly, some instinct choking him until he makes sure every drop of him stays in you. You’re going to be dripping for hours. 

His skin is fire-hot beneath his starched white shirt. You’ll be thinking about that for days afterward when you see him in the hallways of the office. 

This is what scares you the most. When you realize it's over and neither one of you want it to be. 

Shaking from exertion, Max slowly sets you down, unwinding your legs from his waist, your ankles trembling against the cold tile. You couldn’t imagine putting your nylons back on, the thought of that pressure against the curve of your lower stomach while you are so full of his cum practically unbearable. 

He lifts his head from your neck, eyes intentionally avoiding you as he inspects where he bit you, breath coming in ragged, long gasps. Sweat darkens the hair at his temple and that post-fuck blush is staggeringly gorgeous on him. He pricks his thumb on the sharp edge of his fangs and with a scarlet bead balanced on his thumb, he smears his blood against the puncture wounds, like someone would wipe dirt away from a loved one’s skin. 

It doesn’t really hurt, but the effects leave your neck tingling. You’d never say this out loud, but you fucking loved when he did that. 

He steps away without looking at you, giving you time to adjust your skirt, your hair in the mirror. You help him straighten his collar because it’s not like he can use the mirror to check himself.

He grins, the flush fading far too rapidly from his cheeks. 

“What are you going to tell them?” You nod to the stairs on the other side of the wall. “This can’t look good for us.” 

“You got attacked by a werewolf on the way to the bathroom. I saved you.” 

“Thought you said werewolves weren’t scary.”

He shakes his head, smirking, then presses a kiss to your temple. “Just said I was the bigger monster between the two of us.” 

“My hero.” You turn your head until his lips drink in yours. 

It is dangerous, your feelings for him. 

He taps you on the butt, pulling away. The lines around his eyes do an excellent job of masking the hurt in the brownness of his eyes. 

“Gimme five, then you come up. Can’t have you looking so completely debauched.”

He kisses you again, betraying whatever amounted to “cool and collected” he attempted for, and without another word, he slides out the door. 

His smell lingers in the air long after he does. The throbbing of your cunt also serves as a fantastically bitter reminder.

You go back to the mirror because yes, you could not have been more obvious if you were wearing a sign that said, “hi, yes, I did just get my back blown out.” You try to fold your hair around your ears at least a dozen times before pulling it back in what you hope to be a casual pony-tail. You toss your nylons into the trash can, pleading that the “oh, I tore them in the bathroom” excuse might hold an ounce of water. 

You think about what’s waiting for you a floor up and your stomach clenches. 

Fucking Max could upset the dynamics of your little group, your little Monster Squad. Whatever the stupid office bylines were, your happy-hour social group is one of the bright spots in your life, especially while working at a place run by those bastard Overlords. 

And Max knew that. He didn’t want to risk your long-term happiness for his short-term. 

Max didn’t scare you because he was a monster.

He scared you precisely because he wasn’t.

You open the bathroom door and return to the world. 

[azucar-skull]

How Many Sorrys Does It Take To Fix This?

(written for @tmnt-write-fight for @dorky-pals)

Fandom: Rise Of The TMNT (post movie)

Prompt: I don’t know how to apologize., any turtle angst

Word Count: 963

Posted on AO3 too!

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Leo was never one to say sorry. In most cases, his pride had always been first and foremost priority in any argument or fight.

Yet there he was, his neck clutched around Raph’s kraang arm. Lowering his hands to his side.

“If this is it, I want you to know I finally understand… A-and I’m sorry…”

And now…here he is, hours after saving the world and getting his ass whooped by the Kraang. Sitting at the dinner table with Raph on the other end. And…eugh boy…did Raph want to have a talk with him.

There’s a lot of awkward silence for a long moment, only the ticking of the kitchen clock making any sound. Leo would do anything to get out of this.

“So…how’s your eye?”, Leo draws out.

“It’s healing.”, Raph nods. His eye is still covered in gauze and there’s high debate about how it’ll affect his sight.

Leo nods slowly. “...Cool.”

More silence. More awkwardness. Leo drums his digits against the table.

“Soooo-”

“I’m sorry.”, Raph speaks up.

Leo blinks. Twice. Processing what Raph just said. “...What?”

Raph takes a heavy sigh. “I don’t know how to put this. I don’t know where to even begin with this so I might as well just come out and say it.” His eyes meet Leo’s. “I’m sorry.”

Leo pauses for a moment, brows furrowing as the gears are turning very slowly in his head. Did I get a concussion back in the prison dimension or something?? And the way Raph isn’t speaking in the third person let’s Leo know he’s been super serious.

“What could you possibly be sorry for?”, Leo asks, more confused.

“I don’t know! Beatin’ you up? Tryin’ to actively kill you?”, Raph throws his hands out more agitated. “I mean, c’mon, Leo!”

“But that wasn’t you.”, Leo argues. “You were under Kraang’s control. The last thing I remember you doing was…” Leo glances down at the table, clasping his hands together. “Was you saving me when I went to get the key. If anything I should be sorry. You had to use your escape pod on me when I abandoned mine. I should’ve listened to you.”

“No. No.”, Raph argues back. “You were just doin’ what Casey Jr asked you to do and warned us ‘bout the Kraang. I’m the one who should be sorry, I couldn’t protect you-”

“You wouldn't have had to protect me if I actually listened to you when you said “I got it”. I was so focused on being cocky and trying not to bruise my pride that I messed up the entire mission and caused the apocalypse-”

“That shouldn’t be on you! That should’ve never been on you, Leo, ever! It was my fault, okay? I should’ve taught ya to be a better leader instead of arguin’ with you over a pizza stack competition-”

“But that was on me! I made Donnie and Mikey ditch out on training to do some stupid activity because I didn’t want to listen to you, I was being petty-”

“Ya weren’t listenin’ because I didn’t help you prepare enough. We got into another fight and you took it upon yourself to help cheer up our brothers-”

“Our brothers who should’ve never been involved in the first place. But they had to because I was too stubborn to let you knock me down a peg and get me to listen-”

“But I shouldn’t have fought with you! I let my anger take over and couldn’t control myself. I should’ve never had use my strength against you or any of our brothers-”

“ENOUGH!”

Leo’s anger spills over in a shout. The bickering stops. Raph stares wide eyed at Leo, noticing how he’s leaning over the table with clenched fists. The slider sighs and flops back in his chair.

“Just…enough.”, Leo laments. “I’m tired of fighting with you, Raph.”

Raph's expression softens, recognizing that tired look in his little brother’s eyes.

“You want to keep coming at me? Go ahead. I’m done fighting you.”

“I don’t want to fight anymore.”

Raph sits back in his chair, unclenching his fists. He heaves a heavy sigh, shutting his eyes to hold back tears of the memory.

Leo’s brows upturn more, frowning sympathetically.

“Can we just admit we’re both in the wrong here?”, the slider asks the snapper. “I’m sorry for not listening and you’re sorry for pushing me so hard or not pushing me enough or however to get me to listen.”

Raph sighs. “I don’t want to fight you anymore either, Leo. I just… I just care ‘bout you so much. It would kill me to see ya get hurt.” His eyes scan his brother up and down at all his bandaged wounds, scars, and cracks on his shell. “But I guess it didn’ even matter.”

“It doesn’t. Our injuries are the result of both our failures.”, Leo nods. “But we fail together.”

Raph can’t help but smile at that. “We fail together.”

Raph gets up, walking across the table to Leo’s side. He holds out a hand with a sad but warm smile on his face.

“Brothers?”

Leo’s eyes widen for a moment before smiling back, standing up and taking Raph’s hand. He nods. “Brothers.”

Raph chuckles as he pulls Leo in for a hug, rubbing his knuckles against his brother’s head which gets a laugh out of him. But Leo’s laugh is cut short when Raph hugs him just a bit too tightly.

“Ow! Raph, Raph, be careful. My shell!”, Leo winces.

Raph immediately pulls back from the hug. “Omigosh I’m so sorry!”

“No, no you’re good. I should be sorry, I wasn’t being careful-”

“No, I’m sorry because-”

“Oh my GOOOOOOD we’re never gonna stop saying sorry to each other, are we?”

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I have that one Justion Bieber song stuck in my head now

[missbunnybunny]

" Miguel Look . At . Me ”

⚚ This story had been in my Draft for a while, I wasn't sure if I should post it or not. But here ya go. It a LONG reading!⚚ 🚩 cws: cursing, yelling, gore, suggestive, slightly, proofread but don't count me on that. Enjoy! Miguel O'Hara x Special Spider-Women. This is a y/n story hopefully by the end it's well written. There is Spanish in this story. Plz enjoy and I hope you all liked it.

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There was a terrible humming in your ears. Your head felt literally as though it were submerged in water due to your swelling and impaired eyesight. It was hardly audible and distorted like a damaged radio. A voice yelled out, "/n." Then even another and yet another "y/-". Your name must have been called out by several individuals. Y/N! reverberated in your thoughts as your conscience faded in and out. "Get moving right NOW!"

However, for us to get here, we must first go back a few hours. The weather had been miserable for a few days already, so it was not your week. You had very little chance of escaping without taking a direct hit from a bucket of liquid sky bullets. Less deadly rain was falling, and it was turning into a lovely, soft drizzle. Your little sister kept pleading, "Please, can we go play? I'll behave. " delivering her best puppy eyes. Despite being aware of what she was doing, you fell for it.

Putting your phone down and sighing, you turned to face her. She had been begging to play outdoors in the rain for the last ten minutes. As much as Jay was annoying you, he also enjoyed rainy days. "plz y/n. It would be exciting. " Jay talked to you from the left. You ruddered your templé and muttered, "Didn't I tell you to quit coming up in front of Liz?" "No lo regañes!"Liz commanded. You'll never understand how your 5-year-old sister didn't run away from the symbiote. Really, kids are odd.

Jay had unexpectedly entered your life. You got your ass beat while fighting a bad guy, yet you still won. You had been a spider woman for nine years, and every battle taught you something new. One of these lessons from six years ago was to never, I repeat, never, fight in the presence of a crazed old guy! The senile old guy was restrained by the time the struggle was over. Glass was all throughout the place, with liquid green and other multicolored pieces on the ground. You created a terrible mess, slightly horrified that if your mother had seen this if it had been your room, you would get an ass whooping. however, it was not your mess. When you reach out to shoot your web, a quick, sharp pain struck you in the back.

You spun around to confront whoever did this but couldn't find anyone. You concluded it was back discomfort, went home, had a shower, and went to bed because the old guy was still chained up, and the room was empty. waking up the following morning to a slimy-looking monster in black and crimson, staring you in the face. That being was now giving me a puppy-dog expression. "Esta bien!" while raising your hands. "You win. Get ready." < fine> After 20 minutes, everyone was prepared and ready to leave.

Grading your keys and phone, you left the apartment turning around to lock the door. Liz was standing next to you in her favorite raincoat. It was clear with cats sprinted on the design. Yours, on the other hand, was a hooded cyberpunk long cape raincoat in black and white. The second you both were outside, Liz started to jump into the puddles. She was having fun while I was taking a video of her to show Mom later.

Speaking of Mom, she was calling me. Asking me how our play date was going. " va bien, ma. Se está portando bien." < everything's good, ma. She's behaving well> You turned around to see she was still playing. "Si, mami. La Quiero adiós."< Yes, Mom. Love you, bye.> You ended the call and turned around to see some sort of portal take your sister. You dropped your phone and jumped right into the portal. Jay is grading your phone on the way down. Landing in an empty hallway, no little sister in sight. Spidy sense going absolutely crazy, Jay growling as he spoke, "Smells like more of you, think their nice?" You scoffed a little," you bite, so we're good, " you told him.

After walking for what felt like forever. Finally you saw the light of a bigger space, you saw a sea of spider people. You looked at them wide-eyed and mouth agap, and they stopped what they were doing to stare right back at you. "Uhh, hi." You smiled, fans slight poking out. Jay manifested on your shoulder, looking at them. Before anyone could move to get you, you had glitched right out of there.

In the meanwhile, with Liz:

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"Ow, ow eso duele." < Ow, ow that hurts.> Liz rubbed her behind and murmured." Where are we, Hermana?" < Sister> She turned to look, but she couldn't find her big sister. Standing up, she set out on a quest to find an adult and ask them for assistance. While moving, She checked each open door to see whether anyone was around. She approached a door, knocked a few times, and waited for it to open. The door was opened by a huge, extremely tall man who was glaring aggressively from side to side. Still staring at him, she timidly said, "Hola, hi, can you help me." Children do think grownups are tall.

He noticed a young child with an umbrella and raincoat as he looked down. He questioned what a child was doing here. He asked, "What's your name, Niña?" < kid> "My family and friends call me Liz, but my name is Eliza." She gave him a smiling face. "What's your name, mister?" Liz questioned. He said, squeezing the bridge of his nose as he anticipated getting a headache, "Miguel O'Hara." He saw the little girl enter the room and was shocked that she didn't immediately start touching everything. He sensed her staring a hole through the back of his head after five minutes. He gave her a raised eyebrow and silently prompted her to continue.

"Your suit looks like sis, but hers is cooler," she said playing with her umbrella from where she had taken a seat. Miguel froze, his mouth slightly wide as he stared at her. He said, "What does your sister's suit look like?" Liz smiles as she starts to explain, her eyes glinting. She wears a black mask with a crimson inside. She wears a hood that is black on the outside and crimson inside with a white lining. Oh, her mask only covers her eyes, not her entire face. she wears a stylish cyberpunk jacket that hides her mouth. It has a glitchy spider with a heart for a head, and it is black with a crimson lining. Also, her pants have several pockets with zippers in black and red. black Snickers with a bottom color of crimson. She grinned while panting, I helped her design it. "

The child responded with a shake of the head in the negative when a holographic woman asked her, "Did you even breathe?." He thought to himself, "Can kids talk so much without breathing." But thanks to her eager and thorough explanation, he now knew where on earth she was from. Although it sounded like earth-xxx, he still had to determine how she entered his world. Lyla and Liz were having fun. the lady abruptly appeared in front of Miguel. A spider person wearing a cyberpunk raincoat with a symbiote had entered the mess hall,  they glitched just as soon as they appeared and disappeared. 

Liz jumped up onto her feet and excitedly spoke, "That y/n my big sis. Vino por mí." < She came to get me.> Now Miguel had another problem on his hand you! Liz ran towards the door in front of him before he could take another step. She stumbled and nearly fell face-first to the ground, forcing Miguel to grab her hand. It was amusing to observe Miguel clutching the hand of an adorable kid who was carrying an umbrella while wearing a raincoat with a cat print. She was a smiling woman with a stylish motorcycle jacket and yellow spectacles, staring down at the small child. The little child hid behind Miguel's leg when she knelt down to talk to the child. As he knelt down next to the girl, Miguel sighed and said quietly, "This is Jess; Ella's una buena persona." < She's a nice person.> He gently persuaded the small kid to shake Jess' hand. The little girl reluctantly shook Jess's hand after looking at Miguel and then at her. Eliza introduced herself before hesitantly moving to Miguel's chest and said, "Hello, my name is Eliza." When Miguel stood up, he was holding Liz in his arm to prevent her from falling and accepting that she wasn't going to let go of his neck.

They encountered several floating passageways while Miguel was narrating to Jess how Liz and her sister Y/n had arrived in this reality. Liz started gushing to Jess about how amazing you were and how she wanted to grow up to be just like her big sister. " But I don't like it when she calls me at weird hours of the night to open the window." Liz sighed. The kids' concerns were teased by Jess, and Liz said, "But, they make it up. I always get some snacks from Jay. " "Who is Jay?" Jess questioned after pausing for a few moments. The young girl hesitated, seemingly recalling something. "Oh, Jay is my sister's symbiote; I should have told you about him. But don't worry, they won't bite. As soon as she finished speaking, Miguel and Jess' spidey senses activated. "Oh, but we bite alright," said a lady in a voice that sounded like it was coming from a doll's voice box.

returning with Y/n✁┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

" Oh, but we do bite alright," we spoke. Jay wondered who these guys were and why they had his small human friend, and he was on high alert. The huge man in particular felt odd. He smelled like a spider, but he couldn't determine what was in the mix. You questioned, "Who are you?" "Tiny human, are you okay?" said Jay as he suddenly appeared on your shoulder. He reserved a hum from Liz in response. Liz called out from above them, "Am okay, these kind people saved me." As you leaped up to meet them and your sister, you exhaled a breath of relief.

"This is Miguel O'Hara and Jess." You acknowledged Liz's introduction by nodding and telling both. As you took Liz from the tall man named Miguel and said, "Hello, I'm Y/n these ones' big sister, and this is Jay. You had to admit that he had fantastic looks, but that wasn't the goal.

You realized it was 2:30 when you looked at your phone and realized you needed to get home before Mom got home. It means your search for your sister had taken an hour and thirty minutes. Due to traffic, she didn't arrive home until 6 or 7. You were ready to start talking when you heard someone else's stomach gurgling. Liz looked at you shyly and said, "Oops, am hungry." Jay also added his voice, saying, "I agree with the tiny human." You rolled your eyes and chuckled a little. "We have a mess hall; feel free to eat there," replied Jess.

When you arrived, it was the same area you had initially entered when seeking Liz. Jess and Miguel had led the way. but soon after arriving, Miguel went off to his office. Jess advised you not to take it personally since it was simply the way Miguel behaved. You all approached the counter and placed orders. "Please give me 20 chicken nuggets and a large plate of fries," Liz asked. You said, "I'll have a plate of (favorite food) and some lasagna, please." "And I'll have a grape soda and (favorite drink), please," Jay stated. Following the completion and settlement of all orders, Jess took you to a table with a large group of people. Liz carried her food, you carried yours, and Jay held the beverages.

they all waved at Jess and at you once you had fully arrived at their table. They moved over to make some space for you both. You thanked them before taking a seat and placing your plates down. Jess announced that she had to go " enjoy the food, take care." With that, she left the mess hall. " am Hobie, nice to meet you mate." Said the man with a guitar and cool punk style. " am Miles, and this is Gwen," the young man introduced himself and the girl beside him. " And am Pavitr Prabhakar." The last one of the group was introduced. Liz let out a Squeal, " Am Eliza, you're all so cool. Special you Hobie." She commented.

Everyone was eating when a sudden purring sound could be heard. Except for Y/n and Liz, everyone froze. Miles, who was glancing about, questioned, "What was that?" “Oh, that was just Jay, I guess.” Liz moved her plate to you and stated, "Am done," as you continued to eat. When Liz stated that black and crimson liquid came out of your raincoat, you said, "Jay can have the rest. "Don't mind if I do," Jay suggested getting a few chicken nuggets. “That's Jay's sister's symbiote; he enjoys nuggets. Because of that, he purred.” While the other guests at the table were fixated on the new friend, Hobie was the first to say, "That's cool." He stated while gesturing to Jay. Jay commented, "I know”.

"Jay, at least drink something. You're giving me a stomachache," you said as Jay continued to eat endlessly. He was hesitant and downed the grape soda after you reprimanded him. When you sipped your (favorite beverage). Of course, you were eating for two, so when you finished your meal, you felt content. Liz was having fun as Hobie was showing her how to play the guitar and looking at the stickers. When you're having fun, time does fly, as you discovered when you checked your phone at 4 p.m.

You stated, "Can we be taken to Miguel's office, I think it's time for us to go," as you cleaned your plate and disposed of it with the other dirty dishes. Hobie took hold of Liz's hand while the rest of the gang led the route and sometimes talked. Once everyone had come into the room, an older man holding a young child with red hair greeted them. Miles sprang up and said, "Oh, hey Peter," while waving a hand. Gwen exclaimed as she removed her from Peter's head, "Mayday, stop pulling his hair."

Miguel continued to work while staring at the several screens in front of him without turning around. When Liz saw him, she raced and clutched his leg, asking, "Can we go home now?" At last, Miguel turned his head away from what he was doing to look at Liz. True to her claims, a portal opened just a few meters away from Liz when Lyla said, "A portal should be ready in a few seconds." Liz tightly hugged Miguel's leg before releasing her grip and waving goodbye to everyone. A clawed hand grabbed her and pulled her into the portal just as it started to crash before she could scream.

" ELIZA!" You hurried to the portal while yelling in terror only to have it close in your face. You spun around in horror only to see the look on everyone else's face. save for Miguel, who had a contorted expression of rage and fear? Liz was gone, what were you to do? And you have no idea where she may be; is she alright? Is she injured? She had to be located. Miguel continued to type, and eventually, it looked like he had solved the issue since a perfectly shaped portal suddenly appeared next to you. "You should return to your universe. We'll find your sister," Miguel remarked. You headed over to him because you were enraged. Having been recently told to leave your sister by him? Was he crazy? You lowered him to your level by grading his jaw, "Miguel Look. at. me. I came here for Liz and am not leaving without her." You informed him while looking him in the eyes, then released your hold on his face. Jay was experiencing the same level of anxiety as you were by silently pacing back and forth in your head.

Everyone saw the encounter as it took place. To their amazement, Miguel merely let out a sigh and hit a button. They had anticipated Miguel to lash out at you for scolding him for even ordering him. "Your sister was unintentionally sent to this Earth." Your legs quickly carried you there when a gateway popped up next to him. "Thank you," you said to him before briskly moving through it. With the exception of where the city and the forest appeared to meet, it appeared to be your earth. Your spidey sense went off behind you; it was beautiful, but Liz was more crucial. Miguel and the other spider people appeared as you turned to face them.

You puzzledly turned to face them. You didn't expect to see them, so you questioned, "What are you doing here?" "I think that the little lad is cool," Hobie remarked. " We're friends, and friends support one another," Miles and Gwen nodded in agreement as Pavitr Prabhakar made his statement. You turned to face Miguel as he assuredly nodded and continued, "We'll find your sister." You spoke out, "Jay, you know what to do," and maintained a forward gaze. With that, a dark, red liquid began to seep out of your body and completely cover you. You were now dressed in a completely black suit with red eyelining. "Ah, it's wonderful to have control every so often," Jay remarked. He began to smell the air, searching for any traces of Liz. In times of need, having a fairly keen sense of smell was helpful. Once he spotted her, he started to leap. Jay said, "Try not to get left behind you, slowpokes." Jay came to a rest on top of an abandoned factory whose windows were all smashed after swinging from building to building. Jay squats and scans the ground below him. A big Lizard was tying up an unconscious Liz, which they could see.

Miguel was explaining his strategy to safely rescue Liz when Jay rose up and hissed, "Blood." " What did you say?" Miguel questioned. "He made her bleed, and I'm going to kill him," Jay stated before thudding to the floor with a loud THUMP. Miguel merely looked down at Jay before diving down as well. "Huh?" said the man, turning around to face Jay. "You're not Spiderman," said the Lizardman. when he watched more people plunge from the roof. "Give me back the tiny human," Jay commanded. Jay charged towards the Lizarded, punching him in the face before being struck by a Tail. Miles shocked him, while Gwen, Pavitr Prabhakar, and Hobie fired their webs to keep him in place, and Miguel punched the Lizardman in the face. While they were doing this, Jay hurried up to Liz, who appeared to be in good condition, save for a scrape on her left knee. Jay relinquishes the majority of power to Y/n. As you scooped up your sister, you sighed a sigh of relief. As you were doing so, someone yelled your name, "Y/n watch out!" You felt as if your back had been crushed by a sack of boulders, knocking the wind out of you, even though you were still clutching Liz firmly.

There was a terrible humming in your ears. Your head felt literally as though it were submerged in water due to your swelling and impaired eyesight. It was hardly audible and distorted like a damaged radio. A voice yelled out, "/n." Then even another and yet another "y/-". Your name must have been called out by several individuals. Y/N! reverberated in your thoughts as your conscience faded in and out. "Get moving right NOW!" With that, your eyes shot open. The fight was still going on, and you had to keep Liz safe. standing up and wobbling from side to side a little, after a few seconds with the help of Jay's help, you managed to stand up straight. looking to your side, you saw a large pail of (favorite color) web safely covering Liz.

taking a deep breath, you looked at the battle head-on. When you saw there was an opening, you mustered all the strength that you could and ran to the Lizardman. punching him in the face and blasting him throw the wall, leaving him unconscious. " Ah, eso duele como una puta," < Ah, that hurts like a bitch> you remarked while clutching your hand. The trip back to the Spider Society was probably a blur to you because Jay led the entire time. Liz had awoken after having her knee treated; how she had so much enthusiasm, you I'll never know. Your injuries weren't too serious; Jay had healed most of them. Miguel gazed down at Liz with a small smile on his face. " Si sonreíes así más a menudo, no me importaría llevarte a casa conmigo." < if you would smile like that more often, I wouldn't mind taking you home with me.> You gave Miguel a sly grin. Liz said, "Uu, ella está tratando de seducirlo." < Uu, she's trying to seduce him > Laughing her little head off. 

Lyla announced that the portal to your world was complete. You had Liz picked up and were ready to head home. Liz murmured something into your ear as the portal opened, and you smiled. "Can you come here, Miguel?" Liz said, inviting him over. The man raised an eyebrow but nevertheless approached her. "Come a little closer," she whispered, causing Miguel to stoop to your height. Liz grinned as you kissed him on the cheek, "Tengo un nuevo tío." < I have a new uncle.>You grinned even wider as you noticed Miguel's cheeks get slightly pinker by the second. " Ay, Que lindo. Bye everyone, see ya next time." < How cute.> You mentioned entering the portal. As the portal finally closed, Liz yelled, "Bye-bye, everyone."

Miguel was rendered speechless as his mind absorbed what had just occurred. Muffled snorting and laughing jolted him out of his stupor, and he spun around, glaring angrily at the perpetrators. "You hear me, not a single word of this to anyone," he warned. "Get out, all of you," Miguel yelled. Hobie said, "I wasn't even here." He headed to the door, followed by the rest of the gang.

It was still softly raining when you exited the portal. It was a nice and much-needed melody. You entered your apartment and opened the door. Liz leaped out of your arms and raced to her room to change into her pajamas and take a bath. You did the same once she was showered and clothed. After a while, the jingling of keys drew your attention. " Ya llegué." <am home> yelled a lady from the front door. " Hola ma, como te fue?" < Hi, Mom. How did it go?> You asked. " Me fue bien, les traje Pizza. Se divirtieron?" < It was fine. I brought you some pizza. Did you have fun?> she asked. " Si, verdad Liz?" < Yes, right, Liz?>  Looking at your sister, you said. She leaped and shouted si <Yes> as she held her pizza dish." Eso es bueno, me voy a baña." <That's good, am going to take a bath.> she replied as she exited the room.

"We should do it again!" Liz stated. "The next time you fall, throw a portal," you said with a smile. Make a note of Miguel's phone number." You made a joke poking her nose. She glanced at you and smiled, saying, "On it." You couldn't keep a straight face and burst out laughing. You both had a long day, Jay was out cold. It was interesting. You couldn't wait till your next visit to the spider society. But it would have to wait till you got some much-needed rest after such a long day.

☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆

[thiswasneverthat]

wednesday

ㅡ seven masterlist

❅ chan x fem!reader

❅ smut, fluff (I think), a little bit of jealousy issue, praising

❅ wc: 1.2k

A few days ago, your boyfriend decided to create an Instagram account on a whim, also perhaps sparked by sheer curiosity.

Despite not being one to value social interactions beyond family and closest friends, you found yourself amused by his impulsive decision. Nonetheless, you offered Chris your undivided support. You even helped him to pick a profile picture and username.

And it was no surprise for you to see many of his coworkers and college friends follow him on Instagram cause he had always been a popular guy, even in the past.

When he uploaded his very first post, which was some pictures from your holiday together a month ago, a lot of his friends left some nice commentsㅡ complimenting how stunning he looked in the pictures that you took.

"I see you're getting even more popular on Instagram," you teased him when he just got home from work.

"Can you blame me? I have been told so many times that I am irresistible," Chris answered with a smirk, which immediately had you rolling your eyes at him.

"Just go take a shower, Your Highness. You reek of rotten narcissism."

Chris only laughed at your snide comments before he leaned closer and pecked your lips. "I will be right back, milady."

While waiting for Chris to finish his business under the shower, you seized a can of beer from the fridge and sat down on the couch in the living room. You then turned on the TV and immediately scrolled through the screen to pick a movie.

As you both had planned since the morning, the two of you would be indulged in binge-watching while cuddling. You both even made a pact to switch off your phones so you wouldn't be disturbed for the entire night. 

However, a few moments later, Chris' phone which was placed on top of the drawer beside the couch flickered several times.

"Whoops, sorry but he is mine tonight," you murmured to yourself as you reached for the phone with the intention to turn it offㅡ before you instantly changed your mind the moment you saw the screen.

There were Instagram direct message notifications from someone with a name that was not familiar to you.

sent a photo.

sent a photo.

Are you busy? Do you want to hit the gym together?

And maybe we can also hang out at my place tonight?

Your heart dropped to your stomach after you read the messages.

Well.. maybe it was a little exaggerated to say that your heart dropped to your stomach because it was not physically possible, but the point was, you were simply shocked. 

Not because another girl just sent your boyfriend direct messages on Instagram, but because of the extremely straightforward audacity to flirt with Chris.

So, without thinking twice, you launched the Instagram app to see the pictures that she sent.

"Holy shit," you then hissed harshly, eyes as wide as a saucer.

Displayed on the screen were two pictures of a girl with long hair. She seemed to be in a gym studio and she was only wearing a sports bra that flaunt her cleavage and a biker short that accentuated her plump ass.

And as if your hands had minds on their own, you zoomed in the pictures to see her face clearly.

"Damn, she is so stunning," the words slipped out of your mouth without you realizing.

She was devilishly luscious. She had a demure yet alluring smile etched on her face, while the glint in her gaze seemed to possess a spellbinding intensity that left you momentarily speechless.

Your very teeny-weeny jealousy that was previously ignited by her messages then was quickly replaced by your insecurities. 

As much as it pained you to admit, but if Chris was to cheat on you with herㅡ which you highly doubted, you would still understand his decision. Hell, even if you were a man yourself, you would love to date her.

"Damn, I definitely should start working out again," you said to yourself while still staring at her pictures.

"Why? Why do you want to work out again?" Chris asked from the doorway. He frowned at you while drying his hair with a towel.

"Uh, it's because.."

"Hm? Because of what?"

You thought for a moment as your pursed your lips. You knew he wouldn't be mad at you just because you read his messages, but you couldn't help to feel bad because it was also a part of his personal space.

 "Well.. I didn't mean to, but I accidentally read your DM from Instagram and.."

"And what?" Chris asked casually, he didn't even react when you said you read his messages.

"Come here then. You need to see this."

Once Chris sat next to you on the couch, you handed him the phone and observed his face for his reaction.

"Oh, she is a coworker and she had always tried to approach me at the office but I never gave her any response that was beyond a professional relationship between coworkers," Chris clarified with a shrug, still couldn't grasp what you were trying to convey. 

"No, that's not what I mean, babe. I know you wouldn't do that."

"Then what?"

"Look at the pictures she sent you," you pointed to the screen with your finger. "Isn't she gorgeous? Look at her ass.. and even her boobs. I really need to work out again, I swear."

"Baby.." Chris was visibly stunned for a moment as he raised an eyebrow at you. "Have you seen yourself? At least in the mirror?"

"What..?"

"Tell me you are joking," he shook his head before he put his phone on the table and cupped your face with both of his hands. "Please, tell me you are joking."

"No, I am not," you answered seriouslyㅡ which caused Chris to break into a very wide smile.

"She got nothing on you, baby. You are unrivaled, don't you know that?"

"Liar," you snorted and rolled your eyes. You thought he only said that to make you feel better.

"Oh, you silly," still with a wide smile on his face, Chris leaned forward to playfully nibble on your lips. "But, I can help though if you want to work out."

Shortly after he had finished kissing, nibbling, and biting your lips, Chris carried you to the bed and pinned you underneath him. He trailed feathery kisses along the column of your neck to your shoulders.

"I have just the perfect workout routine for you," he whispered next to your ear as he caressed your tits through your shirt.

And.. Long gone was your insecurity.

When he started to undress you, all you could think about was him.

"You are so beautiful and my heart is aching," Chris said against your skin before he latched his mouth on your nipple. He took his time to suck and lick your tits, leaving reddish marks all over your chest.

"You are the prettiest and you are mine," he continued with a smirk as he buried his face between your legs. He teasingly nuzzled the bridge of his nose against your folds before he spoiled your dripping cunt with wet kisses and delicate touches of his skillful fingers.

"I love you, baby. So, so fucking much," those words escaped his mouth as he glanced up to lock his eyes with you while rubbing your swollen clit with his thumb. "The only workout you need is this. Got it?" 

[fandomfluffandfuck]

Why am I thinking of Sebastian blowing Chris in the comfortable space of the Boston home. He’s been needy all day. Chris had meetings and calls, now is his moment to shine. He put a nice color with matching black lingerie. Soft and smooth agains his sensitive skin. Seb (Sub;)) slowly sinks down between Chris’ spread legs. He still had his eyes on his laptop, but oh my, his sweet boy is all dressed up. “Is that for me?” He runs his hand through Sebastian long locks. “Mmh, you want to suck my dick?” He asks. Sebastian nodded. Yes, fuck yes. He needs that cock in his mouth, like yesterday. Sebastian goes head first, struggling with the zipper and ugh why are those pants so tight. Chris helps him, taking himself out of his underwear and he strokes himself a few times. Seb moans. Shifting forward, he sticks his tongue out. Licking a big stripe from to the shaft and up and to tonguing the head. Then he takes him down in one go. Chris groans, “Yeah baby- fuck I love your mouth.” He lets his head fall back and hit the top of the couch. Seb keeps bobbing his head up and down, taking himself out of fluently. Chris’ hand moves up and finds Sebastian’s head, tugging on his hair. Sebastian looks up, his mouth wrapped around his thick cock. Tears are forming in his eyes. “You want me to fuck your throat?” Chris asks. Sebastian hums. He tries to scream, “Yes, please I need it.”, but he doesn’t want to let go of his lovers cock. He opens his mouth even wider. “M’gonna need you to say it, Sebby.” Seb groans and pulls off of him. “Yes, Chris” he says. Chris tsks and pulls Seb hair “Yes, what?” Seb rolls his eyes, wasn’t he clear? “Yes, Chris, you can fuck my mouth.” And Chris does. He pushes Sebastian’s nose against his stomach, making him choke. “Always so bratty,” he mumbles. Then his hips start moving, thrusting in and out of Seb’s mouth. He doesn’t last long after that. Chris pulls Sebastian off right before he finishes. His come hits Sebastian’s hair. They are both breathing hard. Chris pulls Sebastian up by his shoulders and settles him in his lap, straddling him. Sebastian’s arms wrap around Chris’ neck. They kiss feverishly. Chris moves his hands up and down Sebastian sides and into his hair, rubbing his come into the locks and dirtying him. “You look so good. Such pretty panties,” he mouths against Sebastian’s collarbone. “Would be a shame if we messed them up.” Sebastian groans. He thrusts against Chris’ abs. “Gnh, need you.” He replies. Is that a reply? Chris laughs and answers, “You have me.” Sebastian groans again and begins moving faster, quicker. Chris’ hands find his ass and squeeze. A moan, so needy. And then “Oh what’s this?” Chris asks as he pushes the base of a plug deeper in Sebastian. The plug is touching his prostate just right. “Ngh, Chr- Chris. O- oh fuck. Fuck me.” He begins fucking him with the plug, hitting his prostate on almost every thrust. They kiss, sloppy and wet. “M’gonna come,” Sebastian manages to say between kisses. With another few thrusts and he is coming. Chris fucks him through it. He slumps against Chris’ muscular chest. “I love you,” Sebastian says “Gonna sleep.” He hugs closer and seals his lips with Chris neck and suckles. “Not yet, baby, let’s get you clean first.” He picks Sebastian up. “What did I do to deserve you?” He murmures, when he gets a good look at Sebastian’s disheveled appearance.

Sorry for the errors! English isn’t my mother tongue and I’m a virgin… physical, mentally I’m a slut. Whoops!

Also I didn’t mean it to get so long, sorry and I actually wanted you to write something with Chris rubbing his come into Sebastian’s long hair. It’s this visual in my mind and I can’t get it out.

Another also I was so happy to see that you reposted one of my posts. It was like “oh my god, my Tumblr- idol noticed me” So thank you Sir and see you later!!

First of all--

Secondly--

Thirdly, more coherently, not just useless horny stuttering and equally horny reaction memes, don't worry at all about your English, it's great, you're great, I fucking love this. It's been too long since I've thought about some plain old, good needy-Seb-dressed-up-pretty, that shit used to be my bread and butter, I need to get back to that 😮‍💨😮‍💨 You do it so elegantly, too.

Fucking damn.

Lmao, aren't we all mental sluts? At least, on my blog, I'd like to think so. Everyone is slutty, mentally, physically, etc., etc.

No worries about the length, I enjoyed this fucking journey. Literally. Fucking journey, haha. It's an adventure, though, again, needy 👏🏻 Seb 👏🏻 I love that shit!

If I had the time, I'd love to write something like that (and you might be interested in this stucky cum-in-hair fetishization drabble I wrote a while back) but I don't right now, unfortunately. It is a good visual.

Aw, you're so sweet. Hopefully, I'll see you around then, yeah <3

Thank you, thank you, thank you for this horny masterpiece, though. Jesus Christ. What a good gift to find in my inbox!

[goth-mami-writer]

A post about my life lately.

(If you fucking care ✌️🫠)

⚠️Tw: There's some mentions in this that may stir certain emotions regarding✨️pro-choice✨️mindsets (abortion) and vomiting. So if you think that's gonna upset you, don't interact pls. Thx.⚠️

Soooooooo-

I've been away. And here's why without being theatrical - I found out I was pregnant again. And....I wasn't happy.

I'm a mom to 1 already and...I knew that I couldn't do it again. It's hard, to be as frank as I can. The physical effect of pregnancy on the body is something...I despise? I had awful, TERRIBLE sickness the first time anddd fuck, it was the same this time.

Yeah, no. You can go ahead and count me out.

Well- Were you using BiRtH CoNtrOl?!, you may ask?

Yes. Abso-fuckin-lutely. I had an IUD inserted two months after I had my first kid. Cause FUCK THAT. I knew I didn't want another. My son's awesome. Being his mom is my reason for living. But pregnancy is not for me.

So- this being the decision, I fucking called the one person I goddamn trust and that's Mera. ❤️ @short-honey-badger

And bitch, did we plan a trip. We had to drive OUT OF OUR STATE TO RECEIVE THE CARE NECESSARY. (That's a topic for another day tho t-.-t )

✨️Anyways,✨️ Mera is a badass and drove me to said appointment as I'm fighting the most debilitating nausea. All I could stand to eat without vomiting was fucking popsicles and slushies. So yum at 5 am, BTW.

~But here's where shit gets wild~

I show up, ready to have this done. Get on with my life. Maybe start writing again because I know that I'll feel better. The nurses and staff were incredible and sweet. But there was one problem.....my IUD was out of place, they tell me.

Okay? I knew that, right? Obviously, that's why it didn't work and I got pregnant. Makes sense.

NONONONO. I'm laying on a table out of my home state, laughing gassed out of MY FUCKING MIND, with a lady doctor telling me in the calmest demeanor that she can that I need FUCKING ✨️EMERGENCY SURGERY✨️

LIKE. HOW DO YOU REACT...TO THAT?

So...the staff is obviously letting me recover from the procedure- THE ONE I JUST HAD. and now I'm being fed all this medical jargon basically saying that if I didn't receive surgery, this IUD was gonna tear its way into my other organs because it was already embedded in the muscle tissue of my abdomen.

Fucking AWESOME.

Luckily, all these people were contracted to the local hospital in this city and they were going to let them know I was coming over and all that good jazz, but I basically needed to get over there. Like...now. RIGHT NEOW. 💀

So then it's me and Mera just navigating parts of a city that we just DO NOT fucking know, trying to get me to said hospital where this surgery needed to take place. It wasn't far but goddamn this hospital had absolute SHIT parking. It was a monster to fucking navigate as well. Luckily, I was on some good pain meds that were keeping me kinda stable, but ooohhhh, not for long.

We get checked into the ER and yeah, I started HURTING. Not to mention also, viciously nauseous once again. But this time, because I hadn't eaten anything since 5am and I was told that it would basically be fucking ILLEGAL for me to eat again until I got off this operating table.

Fucking. AWESSOMMEE.

(I thought you said it was an emergency, why didn't they have you in OR yet??)

I HAD TO WAIT FOR THESE MFS TO GET THERE, HOLD ON.

My particular case needed staffing of crazy ass doctors to oversee this procedure. I swear to God, I met like 5 people in the four hours that I sat in the emergency room before being prepped for surgery.

I was rolled out for testing like four different times! All kinds of shit just being shot into my IV while I'm still fucked up on the first dose of morphine that's still whooping my ass in and out of consciousness as Mera is at my bedside like,

"O.o u okay?" (Bc she's an angel that stayed with me during the entirety of this fucking insanity like T-T)

FINALLY. I got into my fucking surgery. It went fine, everything is fine. But goddamn, I'm exhausted. Mera was exhausted. We'd been up for almost 24hrs at this point in the day and now I'm finally being admitted into an actual room for post-op recovery.

That next morning before my discharge, I was let know the gravity of my situation and things like that. I was reassured that nothing I did caused this IUD to move. And that meant one thing-

It was never inserted correctly in the first place.

✨️So✨️ let me be the first one to tell you- please. For the love of FUCK. Go get your IUD checked. Via fucking ultrasound.

Don't let that sassy nurse stick a speculum in your fuggin hoo-haa and tell you she can see the strings so you're good.

Guess what? EVERYONE SAW MY STRINGS TOO.

Check your IUD!!! Or you're gonna be knocked up, getting a little pregnancy✨️deletion✨️ in a strange state where a really nice lady doctor is gonna tell you that you're like weeks away from internally bleeding and need dire abdominal surgery to prevent that. And all you're gonna have is your bestfriend who you feel terrible for bc she didn't sign up for any of this bullshit. But there you are, passed out on morphine, hungry, confused, nauseous and WAITING FOR SURGEONS.

GO TO THE GYNECOLOGIST. NEOW. 💀

[cher-rium]

Liquid fashioning Snake’s sneaking suit with his own flare.

I really enjoy Liquid as a character. I haven’t played all the games in the franchise quite yet but I’ve finished MGS1.

Here are some headcanons for if Liquid lived through Foxdie or wasn’t targeted by it in the first place:

-He honestly really reminds me of Dio Brando (another fictional fave of mine) so I think he’d have a similar relationship as Dio did with Jonathan. A burning hatred accompanied some level of respect. Maybe Liquid, after being defeated by Snake, would have some respect for him but still bicker and have a corny little rivalry. 

-Honestly, I think he’d share a lot of personality traits with Dio! Just very… not intimidating.

-Since we’re still on the topic of JOJO, I imagined him having hair closer to REO Speedwagon? Like in my head I was like “yeah Liquid has slightly wavy/curly hair” and then I looked up reference images for this drawing and i sharted a little. His hair is so FLAT. I think there should be an appropriate middle-ground where his hair is still straight but has waaayyy more volume similarly to his little PS1 model.

-Liquid seems like the type to hold grudges so I don’t think there’s going to be much forgiving besides tolerance.

-It’d be really comical if Liquid accompanied Snake and Otacon and they’re just dragging around this man-child who keeps complaining and bragging. 

-I intentionally avoided giving Liquid any of the gear that Snake has on his suit. I think Liquid would purposely try to out-do Snake at every turn, thus going into missions naked so he can brag when things go well. 

-However when things don’t go well, I think he’d be like the average Overwatch player and just blame his teammates or bad luck. I feel like he’s the kind of guy to make REALLY shitty decisions in fights just for the sake of looking/feeling cool and then getting his ass beat. 

-And then after a whooping he comes back down to earth and actually does something useful 💀 (or Snake saves him)

-I know the sneaking suit has the shirt for a reason but, bro had his tits out on shadow moses, he can withstand the cold.

-I gave him grey hairs and a few more wrinkles than he initially appeared with to account for his aging.

-I can kindaaaa see him applying black eyeliner to his waterline. I also added really long eyelashes since I think he’d slay mascara too !

-I don’t think he and Otacon would get along at all initially. My thought is that Otacon tries to introduce him to anime or Japanese media as a whole to try to find something they can both enjoy. Personally, I really see Otacon being into your typical high school or magical girl anime and Liquid would be super-turned off from it. So instead they’d watch like Cowboy Bebop, Yu Yu Hakusho, Berserk, Ghost in the Shell, AKIRA, etc. Stuff that might be appealing to some random guy.

-It’s kinda hard to speak on anything relating to Snake cuzzzz uhhhh y’know I haven’t actually played most of the games– I’m particularly referring to the one where Liquid is a kid! (WHICH im really tempted to play rn in the middle of MGS2 since I REALLY wanna see Lil Liquid). That would give a lot more context ‘cuz I’m currently learning about everything relating to the other games via fanart and discussion posts here on Tumblr 💀

-Idk maybe they can bond on shared trauma man i got no clue

-Raiden? Uh? Okay say he’s [Liquid] involved in MGS2 (or at least the start of it since I haven’t gotten very far in): I feel like Raiden would be really annoyed by Liquid. Just a crazy dumbass making things more stressful than they already are. 

-I didn’t really draw it here but I think Liquid would have downturned eyes while Snake would have upturned eyes. Idk like if I could show the facial structure in my head, Liquid’s sitting face would be really miserable looking. Snake’s would be resting furrowed and seem more intimidating.

-Don’t know much about Solidus and Liquid (for some reason the only interactions I see between them in fanart is either them being shipped together or Liquid about to violently assault the old fuck) but do you know that image of Spiderman getting dunked on by Venom??? Ok so I think that’s them 😭 As soon as Liquid knows there’s an even better clone out there he’d just have a fuckin’ temper tantrum like Muscle Man from Regular Show and make it his mission to dunk on that old man.

-I think Liquid would CONSTANTLY smell like fuckin’ sweat despite literally being shirtless 24/7

-If Liquid were in the modern day he’d smell like 72 gallons of axe body spray

-On nice occasions he would smell like 72 gallons of cologne 

-He’d be a gym bro for sure

-Carrying around protein shakes, talking about gains, and crying about how his stocks are plummeting 

-His hair is definitely a little greasy

-I honestly think he’d have trouble growing facial hair in comparison to the other clones

-I feel like he’s the kinda guy to sit in a corner of a dark room and stare at Otacon to scare the ever-loving shit out of him. 

-Also seems like the kind of guy to have trouble sleeping at night so he just roams like a FNAF animatronic. 

-Seems like the kind of guy to ask Otacon what he’s doing out of boredom and then immediately regret it and space out.

-Ok so I had a thought. I think instead of smoking like Snake and Big Boss do, I think Liquid would drink.

-Y’know the room you find Otacon in MGS1? Where you fight funny ninja robo man? Ok so I think Liquid specifically asked for Otacon to be put into there so that everytime he switches to the security cameras in that room he just laughs at his goofy ass.

-Seems like the type of guy to ask “can i put on your glasses?” and then proceed to act like he just got shot by a firing squad from how blind you are (he does this to Otacon for sure)

-I’d think that Liquid’s ego is so inflated that he’d lack bitchess due to the “I’m too good for them” mentality 

-Upon seeing Ocelot I’d like to think that Liquid would bitch-slap him.

-Seems like the kind of fella to enjoy a meal consisting of dinosaur chicken nuggets, crinkle-cut fries, and mac n’ cheese.

Alright that’s enough headcanons goo-bye.

[katyawriteswhump]

WIP ask game: You've built it up and now I HAVE to know more about your Power of Love fic. I love long fics too much not to ask!

I am so very sorry! I thought I answered this Tuesday, but actually saved it as a draft. Whoops!

Also, thank you soooo much for asking :) Not sure about building up, I was being pretty honest with the 'deeply unbeloved' but I guess I still kinda love it. I really hope to finish it soon in a satisfying way for those who stuck with me, as I've had it planned out for ages.

It's basically s4 fix-it fic. Steve saves Eddie and they go on the run from the police etc. together with Robin. Meanwhile Steve develops mysterious powers, though ones that come with a price...

If anybody is interested, the full fic so far is on tumblr here and on AO3 here.

Excerpt:

“You sure about this, Stevie?”

“What part of ‘let’s do this’ do you not get?” 

Steve unwinds himself from Eddie. He peels his sweater over his head then glances down at the bandages… Screw it, can’t worry about scars now.

“Damn,” breathes Eddie, apparently drooling too hard to care. “I totally dreamed about this, when I luuuuurved to hate you. Okay, hate is kinda overkill but—”

“Yeah, I was a douche. Blah, blah, blah.” Steve shivers lightly, pitches the sweater at Eddie, who totally fails to catch it. “If this is some freak show revenge kink—”

“Wasn’t like that—seriously, you have no idea. It was, uh…” Eddie ventures closer. Under the rays of the flashlight, his dark eyes seem impossibly large and liquid. “I used to watch you in the pool—you were so disgustingly squeaky clean. I wanted to drag you into the deepest, darkest recesses of my dungeon-master mind and, ahem…”

“I needed bringing down a peg?” Steve gets right in Eddie’s face.

“Not even that.” Eddie’s deadly serious. “Just wanted you aaaaall for myself.”

Steve smirks—best way to disguise the candy-ass swirl of butterflies in his belly—then steps back and spreads his arms. “I’m all yours. Knock yourself out.”

Eddie gets some rope, hooks it over a high beam, and climbs on a crate to fasten it in place. He then plants a palm on Steve’s bare chest, backing him up against a wooden post. Steve smirks harder than ever, if only to distract himself—and Eddie—from the heart hammering insanely beneath Eddie’s hand. Jesus Christ, don’t think! Focus on the hotness.

Eddie reaches up to grab an end of the rope and loops it around one of Steve’s wrists. Steve tugs himself free: “You do know what you’re doing here, right?”

“Believe me, my uncle is worse than any overgrown boy-scout leader. Not sure he taught me knots and shit for exactly these purposes, but… anyhoo.”

“Okay. Got one condition. You get shirtless too.”

Eddie’s grin makes Steve ache in all sorts of fun places. “Guess I can indulge you, Babe.”

“Babe? I was a brat five minutes ago. Make yer mind up.”

Eddie flips the bird, turns away and strips. Steve lolls against the post, longing to drag his tongue over every salty inch of Eddie’s torso. Jesus, he never knew he had a shoulder and back kink, because… Gnnng! And those tats, stark against Eddie’s pale skin? As Eddie turns back, Steve drinks them all in. Even the goddamn bats, which should be scary as hell these days, are beyond intoxicating, and seem to dance and spin and…

“Ready now?” Eddie grabs the rope.

Steve fakes a yawn. “Getting old waiting, Munson.” 

“You really are a brat, you know that? C’mon, gimme your hand.”

Eddie ties Steve’s right wrist with a loopy, hitchy knot. He tugs another part of the rope, suspending Steve’s wrist in the air above him.

“How ya doing, big boy?” Eddie grazes his fingers, feather-light, down the light stubble on Steve’s cheek.

“Never better.” 

Steve swallows hard, offers Eddie his other hand. The exquisite concentration on Eddie’s face, the tip of pink tongue at the corner of his mouth, is hilarious. Eddie’s half-naked body is totally smokin’, and yet…

Steve’s eyes drift closed. Those butterflies in his stomach are fast transforming into a horde of angry wasps. He’s had his hands tied before, by the Soviets and… Dammit, is this really distracting him from anything? I DIED IN 1978. I DIED! His breaths come faster, shallower. Nevertheless, he bites his lip against asking Eddie to stop, to slow down even. Don’t spoil this, Harrington.

“Steve, you sure you’re okay?”

As soon as his gaze meets Eddie’s, Steve’s anxiety fades a little, and he nods. He tugs lightly at Eddie’s handiwork, now complete, and a snigger he genuinely feels tugs the corner of his lips. While the ropes don’t dig in, he doesn’t think he could easily yank himself free.

Okay, this is definitely kinda hot. Like the channel of air between their bare chests, which honestly, steams like a sauna. He’s always been in control in sexual relationships, always taking the lead. Lately, yeah, it’s felt kinda dull almost, as if he’s been going through the motions. Now, his nerves still jangle, but simply losing himself again in Eddie’s soulful eyes, he’s getting a goddamn semi. He peeps down, and the strain at Eddie’s fly suggests he’s suffering the same.

“What you gonna do next, Munson?” he husks.

“Stevie, I… I…” Eddie steps back, plows all eight fingers deep into that lush hair. “Seriously, now I got you like this, I have no clue, other than I want to kiss you so bad.”

“I want that so bad too.” 

Eddie kisses his own knuckles, dusts them across Steve’s lips, setting Steve squirming, keening even. His heart and his every goddamn fibre strain madly toward Eddie. Then an unexpected rumbling noise clamps those same fibres super-tight.

“Shit!” Eddie’s half-lidded eyes stretch wide. “More choppers?” 

“No… No. Sounds like a truck or something.”

...

(so, this is one of my favourite bits, among the heavy, heavy angst... maybe not representative of the whole thing, but perhaps there'll be more like this to wind things up... it doesn't not fit with my story plan ;))

AO3 link

[tiredcatboysinc]

Is it literally 10 minutes till 12am rn? Yeah. Will I be posting this anyways? Yes :3c

Here's an angsty ass TSP fic I wrote earlier today and I completely forgot to post!... Whoops (꒪ᗜ꒪ ;;)

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Words: 857

AO3 link

Summary: "Stanley, Stanley promise me you won't leave me like that again alright?" The Narrator was on the brink of tears, it was evident in the way his voice shook and he croaked his words from a dry throat. Stanley stared at the camera with a feeling of dread, he wanted to promise that to his Narrator, promise him he would never leave his side again, but he knew how unpredictable this game was.

Warnings: Angst with a happy ending, Narrator has so many trust issues, also probably fear of abandonment, Post skip button, Like it happened just a reset before, Narrator and Stanley both remember the resets, Men are crying, Not beta read-

A hollowed-out look sat on Stanley's face as he stared off into the distance of his office, leaning back in the rolling chair and his thoughts slowly began to click and register in his head. That was awful. The feeling of loneliness was overwhelming him, but most importantly, the feeling of absolute dread was filling his throat as he sat in the silent room. Normally The Narrator would have started bugging him to move or to just react in some way, but there was none of that. It was just silence, and the air was so thick Stanley felt like he couldn't breathe.

Finally, Stanley takes a long and harsh breath and glances up at the camera in the corner of the room. He stared at the camera for a long moment, hoping The Narrator would say something, anything, yet no noise was given. Had this all been Stanley's fault? Or maybe those stupid commenters who left the reviews? Either way, it was clear it had bothered The Narrator and Stanley wanted to help. He starts to speak, but a small, extremely saddened sigh, cuts him off. Sitting quietly in his office chair Stanley clutched his work shirt sleeves, staring up at the camera with a worried look as he tilted his head.

The Narrator lets out small grumbles of mushed-together words, the words were unintelligible to Stanley. Stanley swallowed a lump in his throat as he heard The Narrator shift papers around, something hitting the desk harshly behind the camera. Narrator lets out another sigh and the sound of his chair squeaking is heard. "Stanley... Do you remember what just happened?" The Narrator questioned, his tone of voice sounding drained and with a tinge of fear. Stanley looks off to the floor, nodding as he fiddles with the hem of his shirt sleeve. Grumbles of anger, or displeasure, are heard before the Narrator begins speaking again.

"I'm sorry, Stanley... I'm sorry I put you through that..." His voice is much softer, and Stanley honestly thought his Narrator was about to cry. He flips his head around the camera, a look of worry on his face. Narrator grumbles a small curse under his breath, it's clear to Stanley that there's more bothering him. Stanley tilted his head, his brows furrowed anxiously. "I... I don't know what I would have done if you had gotten trapped for much longer, Stanley. I think... I think I might have gone mad." He sounded so empty, his voice filled with sorrow. Another shuffle of papers and a chair squeaking is heard, and Stanley was beginning to get a little tense. He could feel the misery in The Narrators words, and he couldn't help but think it was his fault.

"Stanley, Stanley promise me you won't leave me like that again alright?" The Narrator was on the brink of tears, it was evident in the way his voice shook and he croaked his words from a dry throat. Stanley stared at the camera with a feeling of dread, he wanted to promise that to his Narrator, promise him he would never leave his side again, but he knew how unpredictable this game was. Stanley looks away, and a small shakey breath is heard from The Narrator. "I'm... I'm sorry Stanley, I don't know what's come over me." He was crying, the tears were rolling down The Narrators face and cascading into the desk below. His voice cracked and shook as he spoke, his breath coming out in short hitches and gasps.

"I... I... Goddammit. Stanley, please don't leave me, I don't know what I'd do with myself." The Narrator lets out a shaky exhale, sniffing and wiping his eyes as is clear by the sound of fabric shifting. "Just please, Stanley. You're the only person I've come to enjoy being around..." Stanley stared up at the camera, his own eyes starting to well with small tears. Never once had The Narrator ever been so vulnerable with him, and never did Stanley know that the Narrator enjoyed being around him... Stanley swallows the lump in his throat and holds his tears back, giving a small nod to the camera in confirmation.

He wasn't going to leave, he would stay for as long as The Narrator wanted. Narrator lets out a hitched breath, sniffing once more before he speaks. "You promise, Stanley? Please, please don't go leaving me again." He spoke in a sorrow-filled and broken voice. Stanley nodded once more, a soft smile on his face. "I promise." He spoke, the first words he had said in this whole ordeal.

That sent a wave of relief over The Narrator, and he let out a sigh of gratitude. "Th...Thank you, Stanley." The Narrator sniffed once more, wiping the tears from his eyes to attempt to regain his composure. "Here, why don't I reset and we can go lie down for a while hm? That sounds nice right now..." He sounded much calmer, but his voice still had a tinge of anxiety in it. Stanley laughs softly while he nods, giving a thumbs up to the camera and allowing Narrator to reset the game.