#you can tell they’re both going to age really well

[theother-victoria]

LOVE IS CONCOCTED FROM ESTERS AND KETONES- CH.02: ROBIN

SYNOPSIS: you’ve been commissioned to make a perfume that tells the life story of the universe’s most beloved idol. don’t let her down now.

CHARACTERS: robin, mentions of sunday, gopher wood, jade, and welt

TAGS: robin character story spoilers, mild gore (descriptions of a gunshot wound), mild angst, CRASHOUT ROBIN REAL WE ALL CHEERED (potentially ooc), 5.7k+ wc (I got carried away... sorry not sorry :3)

TAGLIST: @mitsvriii, @harque, @akutasoda, @flowery-jazz, @hazyue, @gabile18, @khoncore, @lxkeeeee, @mewnekoice-mecha, @nariism

NOTES: i love women give me a "hell yeah" in the comments if u agree

special thanks to pookies @wystiix, @tragedy-of-commons, and @papiliotao for proofreading!

M.LIST | FIRST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

Paparazzi in front of your store isn’t uncommon, but for a crowd like this so early in the morning- it’s already giving you a headache.

It hasn’t even been a half hour since you flipped the sign on the front door to “open” when you hear the squeal of tires pulling up to the curb. Several of them, in fact. The voices of reporters and paparazzi meld into one jumbled mess that grates on your ears, growing even louder when a car door opens and shuts.

Yeri and Aika glance over from where they are.

“We haven’t had a crowd like that in ages. Wonder who it could be.”

The flutter of camera shutters going off one after another is so loud they’re heard even inside the store. Camera flashes practically blind your poor shop assistants as they shield their eyes and draw the blinds shut. The cameras go off even more frantically now, desperate to get a few last shots in before the blinds shut entirely. 

You hear the front door slam shut and a loud sigh of relief. Yeri and Aika both gasp in shock, and that catches your attention. It must be someone really famous then, or someone they idolize to elicit that kind of reaction. 

You peek up from the counter and instantly realize why the paparazzi went insane. Lilac-silver hair, fluttery wings behind her ears, a halo with flowers at the ends that resemble angel’s trumpets… 

It’s Robin. The Robin, in the flesh. In your store.

You’re no stranger to having famous people in your store, but you’ve never had a singer on her level of renown and you find yourself becoming strangely nervous. Two burly security guards flank her sides. She meets your gaze and bashfully smiles and waves. 

“You must be (Name). I’ve heard many good things about you and your store.”

Her voice is even more angelic in person… 

She extends her hand out for a handshake and you accept. The smooth silk of her glove brushes against your hand and you can hardly believe your luck right now. You’ve had your fair share of famous people in your store. Movie stars, politicians, celebrities, and the like tend to be a common sight in your store. Greetings range from a handshake to a hug to even a kiss on the cheek. But the thing is that they tend to be lax on a no-touching rule or don’t have one outright, often being photographed hugging their ardent fans. However, Robin has a strict no touching rule at her concerts and fan meet and greets. She will never touch someone of her own accord unless it’s a close friend or family and if a fan gets too bold… Well, her security is there for a reason. 

“Do you mind if I just walk around? I don’t really have a scent in mind- or rather, a story that I want to tell. I’d like to see what you have to offer.”

“Not at all. Just call me over if you have questions or need any help.”

She walks around the store, occasionally stopping to sample some perfumes. She likes many of your perfumes, as evidenced by how her eyebrows raise in pleasant agreement almost every other bottle. But she looks rather… disinterested. No, disinterested isn’t the right word. More like… unsatisfied. Like she hasn’t found what she’s looking for just yet.

She checks her phone and her eyes flash in panic as she sees the time. 

“Oh, it’ll be unbecoming of me and your shop’s reputation if I leave here without something. Quick, pass me a perfume you think I’ll enjoy! Money doesn’t matter. I have more credits than I know what to do with.”

You scan your store and hand her the first feminine perfume that catches your eye. It’s in a pretty pink bottle with a vintage atomizer. It’s sweet, sugary, and fruity. No surprise that it’s one of your best-sellers among young women, with top notes of juicy fruits and sparkling alcohol before drying down to a sweet vanilla with powdery aspects. You don’t doubt that she has a million other perfumes that smell similar and it’ll probably be quickly forgotten about in her undoubtedly already-extensive perfume collection, but it’s a crowd-pleaser and it wouldn’t hurt to add another bottle. 

She swipes her card quickly and leaves, but not before looking back at you with a promising glint in her eyes.

“I’ll be back soon. And without the paparazzi.”

In your experience, that usually means a client wants a personalized perfume. Meaning they’re going to be divulging aspects of their past they don’t want anyone else around for.

Aika wanders over to your side when she’s out the door and the paparazzi have left. Yeri is in the back on the verge of fainting, mumbling something about her lucky stars having blessed her for a lifetime.

“What was that about? Seems like a wasted trip to me.”

You shrug and make your way back to the lab.

“Beats me.”

Weeks come and go. You handle clients as per usual, but you can’t get her out of your mind. And as you’re thinking about her while opening for the day, she shows up- albeit you don't recognize her at first. There are no outrageous paparazzi and she doesn’t even have her security with. She’s wearing a big tan trench coat that hides her svelte figure and instead makes her look like a shapeless mess. Her silver hair is hastily shoved into the hat atop her head and when she removes it, her halo also springs up, bobbing up and down a bit before stilling. The wings by her ears flutter and twitch as she stretches them out after hiding them in what was surely an uncomfortable position for so long. 

“Good morning,” she greets with a gentle smile.

“Good morning,” you greet in return. “It’s nice to see you here again. Anything I can help you with today?”

“Yes, actually. I’d like to get a perfume custom-made.”

You tell Yeri and Aika to handle any customers that come in through the door before leading Robin to the back. Next to your lab is a small office where the business side of things are handled, and it’s where you negotiate commissions from clients. You unceremoniously brush aside a stack of credit card receipts and clear the desk space. You ask Robin if she’d like some snacks and tea. She declines the former but accepts the latter, and as the kettle boils atop the mini fridge in the corner, you get down to business. 

“I’m happy to custom-make a perfume to your needs. Let’s get the necessary details sorted out first, and then we can move onto the fun stuff.”

You rattle off your rules regarding payment, as well as a rough timeline of production and when she can expect updates from you. She nods when she has to and you can see the same impatience in her eyes for the fun to begin. 

After confirming with her and seeing the astronomical down payment go through, you can finally get into the part you enjoy the most. 

“So, what would you like your perfume to smell like?”

“I’d like it to reflect my life story.”

Not an uncommon request. Probably one of your most common ones, actually. Consultations for these types of scents tend to be the longest, as clients pour out their life stories to you. They’d often bring a variety of items for you to smell to get a better idea, such as rags that belonged to someone dear a long time ago or locks of hair tied together with a yellowing ribbon. In this case, you wonder what the illustrious Miss Robin would bring. 

The kettle goes off and you make some tea for the both of you. As you fill her cup, she looks around nervously.

“Will… anyone overhear this?”

“Don’t worry. The walls are soundproof here and you need the right key to unlock the door. As for my shop assistants, well…”

You mimic zipping your lips shut and throwing the key away.

“Client confidentiality has always been our utmost priority. Alongside a quality product, of course.”

You shoot her a wink and she laughs, her voice sounding like tinkling bells. The tension has visibly dissipated from her shoulders and she eagerly gets started.

“If I were to describe my life as a song, then the beginning of it was dark and solemn. A Stellaron invaded my homeland and took my mother from me. The chords were dissonant and the melody was unpleasant.”

Your phone buzzes and you see she sent over several voice messages.

“Transcripts of an exclusive interview I did a while back,” she explains. “One of the first and only times I opened up about my past. But since these are already out there, I wouldn’t want to waste your time. Instead, I’ll be telling you things that no reporter has heard before.”

She skips to when she first started studying music soon after she arrived on Penacony. 

“My fingers still ache every time I think about the countless hours and late nights I spent alone in the practice rooms,” she says, lightly chuckling at the end as she surely recounts many memories. Then, her smile fades a bit.

“At the time, I had the support of my brother and friends, but right outside, there were people already disapproving. We were taken in by Gopher Wood, head of the Oak Family. You see, there’s five lineages that make up The Family, each handling different affairs,” she explains. “The Oak Family is in charge of political organization, whereas the Iris Family oversees the entertainment industry. Thus, many people, especially those of the Iris Family, cast doubts on whether I could make it as a singer when I ideally should’ve been learning how to handle political affairs.”

Robin sighs and looks out the window, fingernails drumming against her still-steaming mug of tea. Your phone continues to record and you hurriedly scribble down notes in your notepad. 

“But I made it, despite what they said and their stake in the entertainment industry.”

“If you could thank only one person for their support, who would it be?”

“Why, my brother, of course!”

“Please tell me more about him.”

Her eyes light up and the wings by the side of her head flutter rapidly. It’s clear she loves her brother dearly as she excitedly gushes about him. 

“Sunday made many sacrifices to support my dream. From when we were children, he never faltered in his support. In fact, the tipping point was when I put on a concert soon after I had just started taking music lessons. It was in our bedroom with him as the only audience member. There were no fancy acoustics, cheering fans, or even a mic. It was just me, singing my heart out as he clapped along. Thinking back, it was… something for sure! As I had just started taking music seriously, I had yet to grasp the basics. I was off-key, would flub several passages because I forgot the lyrics, and wouldn’t be able to hit all the notes.”

She winces and shakes her head as if to chase the thoughts away. Her wings puff out and droop from embarrassment. 

“It must’ve been an awful listening experience for him. But Sunday never showed it. After the concert was over, he stood up and clapped as if demanding an encore and I’ll never forget the look on his adorable face,” giggles Robin. “I’ve rarely seen him look so proud as he did back then.”

You picture a starry-eyed, baby-faced Sunday, a far cry from the dignified and solemn image of the Family head and giggle along. Robin’s eyes glint conspiratorially as she divulges for a moment to show you his baby photos on her phone. Here, you learn that he has a massive sweet tooth and that the dentist was his worst nightmare as a child.

When she sets her phone back down, there’s still that joy in her eyes that only comes from discussing her brother. 

“When I went off to university, Sunday continued to show that same level of care, even with his ever-increasing responsibilities. He never missed a concert, never missed a call, and never failed to send me care packages when I needed them the most. However, he faced scorn from other Family members for my career choices when he was still a leader-in-training and lacked the grace to handle such situations.”

The joy falls from her eyes and her smile slips a bit. Her wings droop even lower this time. 

“Looking back, it must’ve been unimaginably hard on him. Not only was he worrying about how to lead The Family, but was also worrying nonstop about me. He must’ve been so stressed… But if I try to bring it up to him and apologize, he won’t give me the chance to.”

Robin lets out a forced laugh. You sip your tea and pretend to be very occupied with your notes, giving her a moment to collect herself before she moves on. 

“After I graduated, my fame steadily increased until it skyrocketed after I released two singles- ‘If I Can Stop One Heart From Breaking’ and ‘On That Most Beautiful Day’. I still remember waking up and seeing they had jumped to the top of the charts across the cosmos almost overnight and stayed there for ages. My manager was overjoyed and I could hardly believe it. It felt as if all my hard work and everyone’s sacrifices had finally paid off. I was no longer Robin the budding singer and little sister, but Robin the cosmic songstress now… it was a bit bittersweet, I’ll admit.”

She fiddles with a strand of hair. 

“As you may be aware, around this time I decided to take a break and devote my time to philanthropic work instead, much to the confusion of everyone.”

She shows you the photos she took during that time. Her standing in front of schools she had helped rebuild with, singing to a crowd of shell-shocked soldiers, holding up scores that would’ve been lost to time if not for her efforts, teaching children how to sing, and more. 

“I won’t deny that I was purposefully putting myself in dangerous situations. But to me, it was worth the risk. If I could save one child, provide an education for a child the way The Family provided one to me, or inspire someone to pursue their passion regardless of the obstacles standing in the way… then it would’ve all been worth it. Even this.”

She removes the violet collar around her neck and points to a spot on her neck. It’s a patch of skin lighter than the surrounding area and you realize it’s scar tissue. 

“I was shot during this time,” she gingerly says as she fastens the collar around her neck again. It’s then you realize that you’ve never seen Robin without something covering her neck. A scarf, furs, necklaces, there’s always something there. “This is something that only my brother and the late head of the Oak Family know about. The bullet had just barely missed my vocal chords. I made a full recovery, but I was terrified for a long time after that. Still, I found the strength to keep going and thanked Xipe every night that I had survived with my voice unscathed.”

You’re writing notes down furiously, and Robin pauses to give you some time. When you’ve jotted down all your ideas, you look down at the page and frown. Your notepad looks like a mess right now. Ruined childhood: strawberry, sugar, praline, bubble gum, cotton candy, violet, datura(????). War: BLOOD, GUNPOWDER, leather, smoke, pomegranate, METALLIC NOTES, animal notes. Stardom: marshmallow, cake, rose, raspberry, vanilla, caramel, amber, almond, SoulGlad (what does it even smell like…? ) MAGNOLIA, jasmine. Brother: sandalwood, lavender(??? Might throw everything off), skin. 

“Um… this fragrance won’t exactly be wearable. Would you like for me to-”

“I don’t care about wearability. I have too many pleasant-smelling perfumes. Show me artistry,” she demands. 

You feel the familiar thrill of excitement run through you that comes with having free reign to do whatever you want without your client getting pissed. 

You can tell you’re nearing the end now when Robin moves onto her brother and his fate after recent events. Now this, you know of, but you were surprised by how big of a role Robin played in toppling his plans. Faking her death, using the power of the Harmony to unite everyone under a song to lead the fight against him, striking a deal with a crafty IPC businesswoman, and for it all to have been successful. Or well, as successful as a plan of this magnitude can be.

You realize this little bird is just as cunning as her brother, even if she doesn’t look the part. They really do share the same blood. 

“I love my brother, I really do. He has a bleeding heart and hates to see those around him struggle. Of all the decisions he could’ve made in a position of power, choosing to protect people from suffering was one of the best. However, the way he went about it… I just couldn’t let myself turn a blind eye and do nothing simply because he was my brother. By trapping everyone within a dream to form a collective Order… that’s no way to live.”

She bunches her hands into fists. 

“This is something that we’ve disagreed on for years. He wants to shoulder humanity’s pain and give them an idyllic, painless life where no one has to think no matter the cost, whereas I believe that although pain is an unavoidable part of living, people are more than strong enough to push through that pain and make it something worthwhile. Take me, for instance!”

She suddenly stands up. There’s a blazing conviction in her eyes that makes you flinch a bit. Her fingers are splayed out across your desk as she leans forward.

“I sacrificed so much to pursue my dream of becoming a singer- time, money, energy, and blood! Sunday doesn’t know this, but I’d cry myself to sleep many nights during university, wondering if I could even make it in this field overcrowded with talent. What if I couldn’t? I have no other skills and I’d be forced to rely on him, which as much as I love him, I don’t want. I don’t want everything handed to me on a silver platter just because of his position! And he knows this! He knows of the impossibly high standards I hold myself to!”

Robin takes a deep, shuddering breath to calm herself. Reign it in. The Harmony preaches unity, not dissonant outbursts. But it doesn’t work. She hasn’t felt this angry in a long time. Or perhaps it’s all the repressed emotions finally bursting forth after suppressing them beneath the smile she always has on. 

“Let it all out. You deserve to.”

She doesn’t need to be told twice.

“I get that we’re siblings and that we’re always going to disagree, especially on something as subjective as our beliefs in humanity but how is he not only blind, but also deaf with his eyes and ears everywhere? He’s seen the lengths I’d go to, all in the name of music. He was one of the first to receive the news that I’d been shot, but did that dampen my resolve at all? No! If anything, it only encouraged me even more! It was all so painful, but it was all so necessary and worth it in the end. In fact, if you told me to experience all that pain again because it would push me closer to that envisioned ideal world, then I would dive in headfirst without hesitation! And dare I say who does Sunday think he is?” she exclaims, her voice steadily rising. “His ideals are a reflection of himself. Is he saying that he doesn’t believe his sacrifices- my sacrifices- to have been worthwhile because according to him, I could’ve gotten here without even lifting a finger? Don’t even give me that! That’s not a life worth living at all!!”

Robin deflates and flops back into her chair as if a balloon had suddenly popped. Those are all the words she wishes she could’ve said during their heated arguments as of late, but will never get to. At least someone finally heard her anger, as ugly as it may have sounded. 

“I’m surprised he even thought you’d be willing to listen to his plans,” you gently comment after refilling her teacup. The warm liquid soothes her throat on the way down and she finds that she’s able to speak again after a few sips. She shakes her head in response. She barely has the energy to even move right now. 

“No, he knew I wouldn’t even hear him out. That’s why he kept his true motives concealed for the longest time. Someone else actually figured it out first by reading deep into his words. Were it not for him, we’d be in a very different situation right now. What was his name again…? Ah, I can’t remember…”

Robin sighs. Her head rolls back to look out the window.

“Like how birds must learn to fly even if it means tumbling from the nest or encountering a dangerous predator, so too must people face hardship and struggle against the odds. Only then will a bird be able to freely spread its wings and will people see the world of possibility ahead of them,” she quietly whispers, voice hoarse from her earlier outburst.

A heavy silence sinks into the room. Robin looks down and fiddles with her hands. You stare blankly at your notepad, her words echoing in your mind.

Her phone breaks the silence by suddenly going off. Robin picks it up and sighs when she sees the caller ID. 

“I have to go now. Security’s calling and messaging me in a panic since I snuck out without them knowing.”

She gathers her belongings in a hurry and checks her appearance before leaving to ensure she’s as flawless as always. 

“Before you go, why did you decide to commission me to create a perfume for you?”

She stops just short of leaving and looks over her shoulder.

“I’ve long since heard of your artistic flair and your ability to tell lifelong stories through scent alone.”

“And what is your reason for being fine with receiving an utterly repulsive perfume, even if it’s the pinnacle of artistry?”

She goes silent for a few moments as she thinks.

“I suppose… It's to remind myself of just how far I’ve come and how much work I still have left to do to achieve that wish of mine. That wish is why I sing.”

And she’s gone. You lean back in your chair and sip your tea. Her half-empty cup sits across from you with a pink lipstick mark left on the rim. An open-ended perfume, huh? Most perfumes that are meant to reflect a client’s life story are in reality meant to encapsulate one perfect moment that they wish to relive every time they uncap the bottle. But to create a perfume for a singer of such renown that’s not only meant to reflect her past, but also her boundless future that carries years’ worth of hope and aspirations… 

You flip open your notepad again and add another section. Conviction: pink pepper, saffron, musk, cloves, tonka bean, chocolate.

After stretching, you get up and head to the lab next door. It’ll be a challenge, but one you think you’re now equipped to handle. 

For the next few weeks, it’s all you focus on. The exclusive interview and your audio recordings of your time with her loop on repeat for hours on end as you go back and forth between the lab and the drawing board. Accords are scrapped and tweaked or even tossed out the window to fit the vision in your mind as it changes by the day. Soon, it looks like a tornado went through your lab with every bit of counter space covered with labeled bottles and lab equipment. Bottles of SoulGlad are shipped to your door as you attempt to replicate the scent as closely as possible. Dozens, if not hundred, of attempts are made before the scent is indistinguishable from the original. 

Yeri and Aika are enjoying the free soda, but you notice they’re sleepier than usual and it’s only then you remember that SoulGlad is an effective sleep aid too. Dammit. 

Robin is always quick to respond to the updates you give her as well, despite her busy schedule. From when the custom bottle arrived to when you finally perfected the scent of SoulGlad, she always sends words of encouragement your way, as well as expressing her excitement over seeing the finished product slowly come together. She always sends a cute sticker or two at the end of each message as well. 

Several months later and after a final all-nighter for the finishing touches, it’s finally complete. You text Robin that it’s ready for pickup before you go to sleep and the next morning, she’s already outside the door, waiting for you to open. It seems she wasn’t able to sneak out this time, as she’s flanked by two security guards.

“Good morning. You’re here early,” you greet as you unlock the door. 

“I couldn’t sleep since I was so excited,” she admits as she watches you go about setting up the store for the day. The lights are flicked on, air purifiers are turned on, and you motion for her to follow you back into the office. Her two security guards start to follow her, but Robin gives them a look that tells them to stay put. 

You disappear into the lab next door to return with a white box tied with a pink ribbon. The office door locks behind you and she feels a thrill of excitement run through her at what’s to come. With a light tug, the ribbon comes undone and you remove the lid to reveal an iridescent bottle that scatters the early morning light peeking through the blinds into rainbow-colored fractals. It was carved and blown to look like a bird taking flight (you distantly recall the exact species to be a Charmony Dove. Her request.) and the bottle cap resembled her halo. The curved golden metal is polished to perfection and little flowers are attached to the ends.

“It’s already a work of art,” she marvels as she gingerly lifts it out of the velvet-lined box and holds it up, admiring the workmanship from all angles. Without any further hesitation, she takes off her glove and sprays it onto her exposed wrist. 

Robin’s eyes widen in delight at the first whiff. It’s a gourmand, sugary delight. Bubblegum, cotton candy, praline and raspberry practically dance on the tip of her tongue and she almost wants to take a bite out of her own arm because of how good it smells. There’s a floral aspect too with a strong violet note coming through. Blood orange and lemon pierce through the overwhelming sweetness, the astringency of the two fruits preventing her nose from becoming overwhelmed. She inhales again and sighs in bliss. Like her brother, she has a sweet tooth and finds this perfume to be temptingly delicious. It also reminds her of a dessert she had a long time ago. Strange, she can’t quite remember the taste or name of it… It must’ve been a dessert she and her brother enjoyed when they were children then.

The scent composition is beginning to change now. Robin inhales again, but this time her eyes fly wide open and her nose scrunches up in a mix of disbelief and disgust. The delicious fruits, which previously smelled juicy and ripe, are now overripe. They’re cloyingly sweet now, with the unmistakable odor of something rotting that makes her feel nauseous. There’s a weird, musty odor now that she attributes to the flowers in the scent decaying. It smells awful now. Revolting. Robin wouldn’t be caught dead out in public wearing this, but it was never meant to be wearable or for the public to smell it anyway. She paid for artistry, and she got it. 

“Oh, Aeons,” she whispers as the scent changes even more. It went from bad to worse to horrible. The sugary sweet and floral aspects are still there, but there’s something new that emerges. It smells like war, she realizes. There’s the unmistakable stench of iron- blood- and metal. Smoke and gunpowder waft up from somewhere within and her hand flies to her neck, right above where the gunshot wound scar is. The dull pain from the gunshot throbs. Robin isn’t sure if it’s actually hurting again or if it’s her mind playing tricks on her. The blunt pain spreads across her throat and she feels a strange chill rippling out from the wound to the rest of her body. She shudders violently.

A moment passes. Then another. It starts off as a faint tingle before escalating into a searing pain that paralyzes her. She feels like her vocal chords are on fire now. Her hands fly to her throat. Burning, twisting, and eating away at the bands of muscle that give life and hope to so many, including her. She cries out for help, but nothing comes out except for a scratchy version of the plea and a hot, wet gurgling sound that she recognizes as blood dribbling out of the wound- though the sound is muffled as if someone has shoved cotton into her ears. 

Robin feels something wet staining the fibers of her gloves and she looks down to see a deep red seeping into the silk and spreading until it covers her entire hand. It’s her own wet blood, still hot to the touch and she reaches up to the back of her throat where the bullet exited. Blood trickles down her back from the ruptured flesh and she gingerly presses a finger to the wound. It doesn’t hurt, strangely. Or maybe the pain is just overwhelming her senses to the point where she’s become numb. This doesn’t feel real. Nothing feels real. 

It’s as if someone forcefully shook her awake from a nightmare. Her pupils are blown wide and hair is plastered to the sides of her head and forehead from being drenched in a cold sweat. Her hands are still around her throat. The gunshot wound has long since healed. Her vocal cords are unscathed. Robin slowly peels her hands away and looks down. Her silk gloves are pristine. 

It was just a memory. A far too vivid one, though.

You pass her a bottle of water and she eagerly takes it, chugging it in record time as she recovers. Robin thinks back to your notepad amidst the horrible memories of war that resurface. Spoiled childhood. War. You really hit the nail on the head. Truly, your storytelling ability through scent alone was unparalleled. Case in point: cake and something berry-like are present- pomegranate, maybe?- but they smell expired and rotted, like they’ve been trampled underfoot while fleeing in a panic. How did you pull it off?

“So, what do you think?” you ask as she waits for the base notes to emerge. 

“Disgusting. And horrifying.” 

You both laugh in unison. 

“Then that means a job well done.”

The memory of war fades and something more neutral emerges. A sweet vanilla, one of her favorite scents, with woody notes. She immediately recognizes sandalwood. Sunday. It’s a favorite of his. There’s a nutty smell that emerges and she thinks of her brother again. One of Sunday’s favorite desserts was one topped with almonds and drizzled with syrup. This almond leans more bitter instead of warm and toasted, but the similarities are still there. Sticky caramel is present. Sunday loves those little caramel candies that practically melt in his mouth, she thinks. I should pick some up for him next time I go back. 

Oh wait. I can’t go home now. I almost forgot, he’s not there anymore. 

It smells like her brother now, and her heart aches. Will she ever be able to see him again? Strange. You’ve never met Sunday before- at least that’s what she thinks. How did you get his scent down almost perfectly then? But there’s also a surprisingly spicy kick in there that isn’t reminiscent of him. She likes it though. 

She swallows down the lump in her throat and clutches the bottle tighter.

“Thank you,” she whispers. You simply nod. There’s nothing else that needs to be said. 

She collects herself before leaving. It’s now approaching afternoon and there’s more people on the streets now. They stop for a double take when they realize it’s Robin, eyes going wide and jaw going slack. Whispers follow her, she sees phones being pulled out and soon, she’s surrounded by fans asking for a photo or an autograph, despite her security’s efforts. She’s used to this by now- mindlessly signing objects and donning the same smile every time for photographs. Robin the graceful, Robin the elegant, Robin the cosmic songstress who always looks flawless no matter what. 

But as the last of the fans run off and as she’s sitting in the back of her chauffeured vehicle, heading to the next item on the agenda, she finds herself wondering if there’s even more she can still do. The bag with your store’s logo on it tempts her and she lifts the box out, unwrapping it again to admire the bottle. She won’t spray it- she’s not subjecting her poor security guards and chauffeur to that smell- but she finds herself thinking back on the same questions she’s always asked herself.

Why do birds fly? Does my song serve any purpose?

She thinks these are questions she’ll spend a lifetime chasing the answers to. Realistically, Robin knows she won’t ever arrive at one. She’s no philosopher, but how many times has the former been asked? And as for the latter… that’s a subjective one that’s up to her to decide. 

But her song saved her brother in the end. And that’s more than enough for her.

PERUME NOTES:

TOP: strawberry, sugar, praline, bubble gum, cotton candy, raspberry, lemon, blood orange, violet, black elderberry, datura, soulglad (I hc it to smell like coca-cola)

MIDDLE: blood, leather, gunpowder, smoke, rose, pomegranate, incense, cake, metallic notes, marshmallow, magnolia, jasmine

BASE: vanilla, skin, bitter almond, caramel, amber, sandalwood, chocolate, tonka bean, cloves, saffron, pink pepper

INSPIRATION: Toskovat Age of Innocence, Toskovat Curtain Call, Toskovat Born Screaming, Ariana Grande Sweet Like Candy, Juicy Couture Viva La Juicy, Lattafa Yara

enjoyed this? the taglist is open!

@ theother-victoria, do not copy, repost, modify, translate, or feed to ai

[moonythejedi394]

oh you liked how in my fic for him. bucky didn't fall from the train well what if he did?

His phone buzzes. Steve picks it up and sees a text from Hill, then another one comes in. They’re both phone numbers. The first one is Becca’s and the second is Benny’s. Benny’s name is still Barnes, but Hill’s text has Becca’s last name as Proctor. Steve exhales, then he calls Becca.

It rings for a long time. Steve bites his lip.

“Hello?”

Becca’s voice is rough and cracking with age, but it’s her. Steve exhales heavily.

“It’s Steve,” he says quietly. “Hi.”

There’s silence for a moment.

“What flowers were at your wedding?” Becca asks. 

Steve smiles, bittersweet, but it’s just like Becca to be suspicious. “Red carnations and daisies. Bucky had a daisy in his lapel,” he adds. “Your ma did all youse’s hair with daisies, too. And you and Betty had matching dresses, little cap sleeves and empire waists and a bow in the back, and your ma bought both of you a pair of kitten heels, even though you were only eight, they were yellow with bows, too. Benny had a dress with a big poofy skirt and she kept grousing about it, even though she tried to get me to wear a wedding gown with a poofy skirt. I let Benny pick the color of your dresses, though. She picked pale yellow because she was obsessed with lemons back then. The wedding cake was lemon because of her, lemon and lavender.”

“Steve…” Becca exhales. “Is it really you?”

“Yeah,” Steve whispers, trying to hold back sudden tears. “Becca, Bucky – Before he – Before –”

“What?” Becca asks gently. “What did Bucky do?”

“‘M pregnant,” Steve confesses.

“Oh, my G-d,” Becca whispers. “Oh, my G-d. You’re pregnant?”

“Three months,” Steve then tells her, his voice almost breaking. “I’m about three months in.”

“Did Bucky know?”

Steve lets out a watery sort of laugh. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah. He – He said I could go on one last mission, the mission to get Zola, then he was gonna tell Colonel Phillips and get me discharged. We didn’t know for sure, but…”

“Oh, Steve,” Becca murmurs. “Where are you, honey?”

“Brooklyn,” Steve whispers. “Bedford-Stuyvesant,” he adds.

“Okay, honey, I’m gonna come pick you up, alright? I got a spare bedroom, you can have it. Bucky wouldn’t want you to be alone. What’s your address?”

Steve bites his lip hard, fighting back tears. But she’s right.

“Alright,” he mumbles, then recites the address for Barton’s apartment building. “I don’t have a lot of things right now,” he says. “I – I, uh, I’m trying to get the Smithsonian to give back all our stuff…”

“I heard your collar got taken out of the exhibit,” Becca says. “You have it?”

“Yeah,” Steve answers. “I had to get a new key fitted for the lock. Buck–”

He can’t say it. Bucky had had the key on the chain that held Steve’s dog tags. It had fallen with him, to be forever entombed in stone and ice.

“It’s okay, honey,” Becca tells him. “I won’t be long, just an hour. Have you got a nest set up yet?”

“No,” Steve admits softly. “I – I want –” His voice cracks and he swallows. “I want my nesting stuff. It’s all in the Smithsonian. They’re saying it all belonged to some Omega I collared.”

“I’ll sic my grandkids on ‘em,” Becca says. “What have you eaten today?”

Steve groans and drops his head back against the wall. “Protein bars,” he mutters.

“Anything else?”

“No.”

“Bucky’s gonna come back from the grave and take a double-folded belt to your ass if you don’t start taking better care of his property,” Becca offers kindly.

Steve laughs a little again, then wipes tears from his eyes. “You’re right.”

“What have you got other than protein bars?” Becca asks.

“Protein shakes,” Steve sighs.

“Oh, boy, Bucky’s rolling in his grave.”

Steve almost laughs. He squeezes his eyes shut and takes a shaking breath.

“If you need to cry, you should,” Becca says. “It’s good for you.”

“Call me when you get here,” Steve murmurs. “I have to pack.”

“Alright. Just an hour, big brother.”

[cowboy-kidd]

cg!the batman (2004) headcannons ᯓᡣ𐭩

x - x - x

—DNI NSFW—

· likes to pretend he’s a single parent even though it’s Alfred teaching him how to take care of you

· Makes comments on what the butler picks out for you- “Won’t it be chilly today? What if he catches a cold?”…”Master Bruce, I assure you, I’ve checked the forecast.”

· Has Alfred teach him how to cook breakfast so he can make food for you.

· Likes holding you close to his chest and whispering in your ear to make you go to sleep- is very advanced in the art of staying up late too make sure you get sleep- Alfred takes over when it becomes clear that Bruce needs sleep just as much as you do. He lays you down on your tummy and gently pats and rubs your back against your onesie to soothe you to sleep. He’ll play old records too.

· Bruce acts out the stories he reads to you. Literally. He can’t tell a story without setting up some sort of fortress and moving around it in a manner that makes you giggle. Anything to make you laugh.

· You hang off of him every chance you get. He doesn’t even have to be holding you for you to be hanging off of his shoulder or arm.

· You present to be the most well behaved little boy at the multitudes of dinner parties and charity balls that your dad hosts. Both Alfred and Bruce fret over you constantly but you manage to woo the crowd every chance you get.

· You prove to be a much better novice cook than your Dad, which he playfully sulks at before surprise picking you up and tickle attacking you.

· Not too much tv time- Alfred makes sure you’re always occupied whenever Bruce is away. Whether that be playing with toys or dancing on his toes to your favorite sounds with a wide smile on your face.

· You prove to be a much better novice cook than your Dad, which he playfully sulks at before surprise picking you up and tickle attacking you.

· Your sleep schedule is never really set. Whenever Alfred or Bruce puts you down to bed you end up sneaking down to the batcave, wide awake. You’re quite the stealth master yourself so Bruce only knows you're down there when Ace comes out of the darkness. Both just sigh at your insistence on staying up.

· You’re homeschooled. Everyone knows that Bruce- millionaire playboy who invests so much in his company his workers are prim and pampered-is your caretaker. So it’s not wise to just send you out into the world thinking nobody’s gonna at least try to kidnap you because of who you are. Besides, you don’t like the attention it brings.

· When you’re regressed to smaller ages and don’t like to be away from your Dad you have a little spot carved out in the batcave. Alfred likes to put you in baby jail a lot- a room with all your favorite toys directly across from the kitchen which he can see into.

· In the summer you guys garden. A bunch. Carrots, peas (bleh), parsley, tomatoes, beans, potatoes, and much much more. You don’t necessarily like getting your hands dirty but it’s fun when both your dad and Alfred are around.

· You and your Dad go sit underneath a tree when it’s especially hot and just enjoy the breeze and sounds. You usually fall asleep in his lap while he reads. You’ve forced him to recognize early on that his life can’t just be all work and no play. And the fear of leaving you early on to fend for yourself is still there, a blight on many of his days with you. It’s not like they’re numbered- more the suddenness of it.

· Leaving you without him is similar to the suddenness of a slammed door and the resounding quietness afterwards. Just like his parents did. In the blink of an eye, a mere snap of a finger, a subsequent pulling of the trigger. It’s instant. But he can’t live his life in fear. Knowing that without you the sweetness of life wouldn’t be fully realized.

· That he’d miss out on so many silly moments that only you could come up and he be the benefactor of. Being Batman is not so much about avenging his parents deaths anymore, but protecting those kids who would otherwise be out of luck if he didn’t exist. In a way, he does it for you.

· It’s what makes him clench you that much tighter despite the heat and the cicadas. What makes him hold your hand tighter at those annoying dinner parties. What makes him feel just that much lighter when he’s around you. What makes him work harder when it comes down to the nitty gritty of being a vigilante.

· You have one stuffed animal despite your Dads insistence on buying you more. It’s well-loved and you make sure whenever Alfred goes to wash it that he’s very gentle despite just how many times he’s gone about the task of washing said stuffie.

· He loves spoiling you, whether it be coming home with sweets you like (macarons hands down.) or bringing you toys and pacifiers and babas. It’s frankly impossible to get him to stop spending money on you. You rarely ask for anything but when you do oh boy you better hope he doesn’t buy multiples of the exact same thing just for you.

· What you do have in multitudes is blankets. Dozens of them on you and your dads bed for you and Ace to snuggle into.

· Bruce and Alfred always like to remind you that they love you. For Bruce it’s a quick kiss on the cheek that he pulls you into. For Alfred, a squeeze of your hand whenever you guys are out (especially during the cold months) or an ask for a little hand when he’s baking a sweet treat.

· Bruce is always peeling or cutting your fruit you. He learned from Alfred and now just likes the mundanity that comes with plating cut up and small digestible foods on your cute little separated plate and placing it in front of you while your playing pretend with something he carved.

· You very often go to Wayne tower with him. You curiously mock and observe all the little human quirks about your dad that people don't tend to pick up on.

note: There are different renditions of Batman everywhere. This specific rendition (The Batman, 2004) follows a younger, more naive Bruce Wayne who is just settling into his role as Batman- thus my headcannons might seem a bit out of character from the one you might be used to. However, this one, is not. This Batman is one I’ve known in particular for a very long time (been watching and rewatching this one since I was 14) and thus I write more about him because that’s what I feel comfortable with. He isn’t out of character, he’s just a different version.

[mymitochondriaforpresident]

they’re both becoming so handsome 🥹💜

so today i will wear my white button-down

[the-eclectic-wonderer]

Sophia is very specifically Sicilian and a rural village girl so it's actually logical she would struggle to understand some Standard Italian! Sicilian is its own language and Sicilian Italian is its own regional dialect. I'm 95% the writers weren't thinking of this but it actually makes sense.

Anon, you anticipated me! That’s exactly my hypothesis on why Sophia doesn’t speak proper Italian. In some parts of Italy (especially in the South, or in rural regions) people still speak their dialect before they speak Italian, and prefer their local dialect to Italian in their everyday life. Nowadays everyone learns proper Italian in school, but especially back when Sophia lived in Sicily, she definitely would have spoken in her local dialect only!

Interestingly enough, though, most of the “Italian” expressions she uses aren’t actually Italian nor Sicilian in origin (or, when they are, they’re used incorrectly — see using the word abbondanza as an insult). I think this is where her status as an immigrant comes into play: I have to suppose those words and expressions are part of the (Brooklyn) Italian-American vernacular, and considering she’s been speaking that vernacular for most of her life, it’s not surprising that she defaults to it. I’m afraid I don’t know enough about Italian-American slang to properly verify that, though!

[5sospenguinqueen]

Taste | Max Verstappen x Singer! Reader

Summary: She’ll just have to taste you when he’s kissing her. When Max and Kelly break up, the pair of you start something sweet. But, it only lasts a short while when your conflicting schedules drive him back into her arms. 

Warnings: Kelly Piquet slander. 

Requested: No, I’m just obsessed with making up fantasies whilst I drive home from work with my music on

Faceclaim: Sabrina Carpenter (yes, I know she’s used a lot but I stole her song and her occupation so why not steal her face) 

F1 Masterlist

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f1wags just posted

liked by user1, redbullracing and others

f1wags max verstappen and kelly piquet both confirmed they have seperated, posting a short statement on their instagram stories. the news comes after months of speculation after explosive arguments were caught on camera

3,306 comments

user1 omg did anyone see that red bull admin liked this and then unliked it

user2 thank god! i’ve been waiting for this day for ever

user3 can we see him date someone his own age now that didn’t go after him when he was a teen? 

user4 finally! turns out manifesting works 

user5 he always looked so upset after they argued. hopefully he finds someone good for him

user6 hear me out, but how hot would he look with yn ln

→ user7 like they’d ever cross paths. he’s an athlete and she’s a pop star 

→ user6 yes but my point is that they would look hot together 

→ user8 he did have one of her songs playing in the background of a stream once?

user9 i love how she’s really laying it on thick in hers and he’s just like “yeah, it’s over” 

→ user10 we love an unbothered king

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mclaren just posted

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and others

mclaren we have a special guest in the garage this weekend. thank you @/yn_ln for joining us

6,098 comments

yn_ln thank you so much for having me! i had an amazing weekend but i don’t think i’ll be in a rush to do hot laps again

→ landonorris don’t be like that. i know you had fun! 

→ yn_ln idk who trusted you with a licence but they should be fired

→ landonorris idk why they call you short and sweet :( 

user1 she looks soooo good wtf  liked by maxverstappen1

oscarpiastri it was really fun having you in the garage. thank you for making lando seem tall. now he’ll be in a good mood for the rest of the weekend

→ yn_ln f1 girlies, can you tell me if he’s dating the curly haired one?

→ oscarpiastri well played. i apologise for bringing your height into this

→ user2 yes, yes they are, yn

user3 chat, is this real? my fave singer in my fave team’s garage! two worlds colliding 

charles_leclerc omg please stop by ferrari. my girlfriend, alex, absolutely loves you

→ yn_ln come pick me up! (‘cause i don’t know my way around the paddock) and i’d love to meet her

user4 omg somebody tell max. i hope she gets lost and stumbles into red bull

→ user5 my delusions might come true if that happens

→ user6 he saw her when charles was walking her over to ferrari

→ user4 and?! 

→ user6 nothing. he turned around and went back into the garage

→ user7 yeah after he went bright red! 

f1wags just posted

liked by user8, shortnsweet and others

f1wags only two months since his split from model, kelly piquet, max verstappen has been linked to singer, yn ln. the pair have been spotted numerous times on dates and caught in moments of affection

2,999 comments

user8 yn’s clothing brand liked this! 

→ user9 that doesn’t mean anything?

→ user8 well, considering that is her own brand, and they’re a part of her image, i’d say it means something 

user10 anyone else notice that they’re wearing different outfits in every photo, which means they’re all from different days/dates

user11 i’m going feral

user12 okay but you can’t even deny that this is them because it very clearly is 

user13 people said i was crazy when i talked about these two being together! 

user14 they’re so hot together. i might actually combust 

user15 i’m (s)creaming

user16 the hand holding 🥹 they’re not just fucking

user17 my new otp 

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kellypiquet just posted

liked by maxverstappen1, piquetjr and others

kellypiquet my 🩷

2,987 comments 

maxverstappen1 ❤️

→ user1 aha this is such a dry response lmao 

user2 wtf? i thought he was with yn

→ user3 that was just a rumour 

user4 he looks much better with yn 

→ user5 yeah but she can’t give him the stable relationship he needs so no wonder he went back to kelly. she’s always there lmao 

→ user6 yeah because she never lets that man go. she’s possessive and it’s not healthy

user7 max is so cute with p 

user8 my favourite thing about this post is that all of these pics are old because max is currently in a press conference with his long hair, not these short strands

user9 how could he leave yn like this? they were so cute together 

(comments on this post have been disabled)

yn_ln just posted

liked by landonorris, kellypiquet and others

yn_ln in honour of my tour starting, please enjoy my new single taste! 💋

14,033 comments

user1 omg a new album, a new tour and an additional song?

alexandrasaintmleux got this on repeat 

→ charles_leclerc this is true. it’s all we’ve had in the car

→ alexandrasaintmleux don’t act like you don’t know all the words 

user2 this was 100% written because of the max situation

jennaortega but how hot do we look 

user3 not kelly liking this! 

→ user4 i like to think the middle picture is aimed at her for stealing yn’s man

redbullracing blue is definitely your colour

→ mclaren she looks better in orange 

→ scuderiaferrari we think she should try red next 

→ yn_ln i’ll wear whatever colour invites me to watch rich men drive around in circles next

→ alpinef1team pink it is! 

landonorris i liked the parts where you died

oscarpiastri oh so you’re allowed to make height comments but i wasn’t?

→ yn_ln please refer to the middle picture

user5 chat, i can’t stop thinking about “he pins you down on the carpet, makes paintings with his tongue” 

→ user6 max verstappen, i was not familiar 

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yn_ln just posted

liked by redbullracing, oscarpiastri and others

yn_ln i heard there’s some sort of race on so i thought i would show some support. let’s play spot the team

10,001 comments 

user7 omg did you see that charles and alex were there! 

→ user8 and pierre and kika

→ user9 well, we know who got charles in the divorce 

user10 we all know who red bull wants in max’s garage 👀

→ user11 the fact that they liked a gossip post of him dumping kelly and are now all over yn’s insta 

user12 okay but the placement of the bulls has me weak in the knees

user13 who’s your favourite driver? 

→ yn_ln daniel ricciardo

→ danielricciardo showing this to everyone i know

→ user14 does that include max? liked by danielricciardo 

user15 we love a petty queen because you can’t tell me the writing isn’t aimed at kelly and max 

→ user16 and the bull instead of the kiss

mclaren we’re hurt. truly hurt that you didn’t post a pic with our logo 

→ yn_ln you have a whole insta post dedicated to you! 

alexandrasaintmleux the hottest concert i’ve ever been to

→ charles_leclerc still can’t believe she arrested you when i was right there

landonorris does this mean you can come to the race? like you’re practically already there??

→ oscarpiastri i second this

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requests open. i'm just slow haha

coming soon; lewis hamilton baby angst

this wasn’t due out until next week but MAX WON!!! And so I’m posting this in honour of that. I’m just sorry this was planned as angst 😬😂

tag list

@peachiicherries @rosecentury @c-losur3 @heavy-vettel @evie-119 @raizelchrysanderoctavius @lilorose25

[totally-here]

3 times Phantom's Guardian was Mentioned + 1 Time He Showed Up

One

Phantom’s introduction to Young Justice wasn’t as dramatic as Empress’ or Slobo’s, or even Arrowette’s first introduction to the cave. No, it wasn’t during the Olympics, or on a battlefield, and he didn’t come in injured and looking for help. 

Impulse just brought Phantom in one day and insisted that he should join because he’s their age, interested in justice, and now that Greta’s human again they need another ghost member. So Phantom stayed, popping in and out for missions but never really sticking around all that long. 

Today is one of the days that Phantom’s with them on a mission, that being looking around a lab of the Brain’s that had an energy surge recently, despite it being presumably abandoned. 

Kon got paired up with Phantom to check the rest out first, since they both have better hearing than Anita and Tim, who were both still in the main room working on checking the computers for previous activity. 

The room is dark except for the light green ball glowing slightly above Phantom’s hand. He waves it around enough for it to reflect off of glass, then throws it up to the ceiling. The light expands enough to illuminate the room. 

Phantom mumbles about not knowing he could do that. Kon ignores him and moves closer to inspect the glass tubes to the side of several monitors set up. 

“Looks like cloning equipment,” Phantom says, casually. He drags a finger through the dust gathering on one of the monitors. “Don’t think they’ve been activated recently, though, so that’s good.”

“What? You got a problem with clones or something?” It’s a quick and defensive answer, and Phantom puts his hands up in surrender. 

“Not in concept.” He shrugs and joins Kon near the tubes. “But not a lot of people ask before making clones.”

“So I don’t need to sic Superman on you?” Obviously Kon could chew Phantom out himself, but few can do a “not mad, just disappointed” face better than Clark. 

Phantom scrunches his face. “Why would you need to?” 

Kon stops pretending to inspect the tube and stares at Phantom. “You do know I’m a clone, right?” The blank look on Phantom’s face tells him that no, he did not. “Well I am. Clone of Superman, though we’re pretty much brothers now.”

“Cool,” Phantom says, not a bit less friendly. He hesitates for a second before continuing, “Could I maybe ask you how you got there? Me and my clone have landed on cousins, but that was also, like, given to us by her evil dad. So.”

Phantom trails off. Huh, that makes three members of the team that have been cloned. Not a lot, but it’s weird that it’s happened three times. 

“You’re making sure she feels accepted, right?” 

“Yeah! Well, whenever she’s around. She,” Phantom waves his hand around, looking for the right word, “She’s a wanderer. Exploring the world and stuff. But Richard has a room for her at home, and I remind her of that whenever she does stop by.” 

“Well, first of all, don’t push it so hard,” Kon says. Phantom nods enthusiastically. “And second, who’s Richard?”

Kon doesn’t know a lot of Richards, and he doesn’t think that Phantom ever mentioned one before. Or even if he remembers his living life. 

“Oh, he’s my, uh, guardian? I guess that’s the best term. The guy I’m living with who forces me to go to school sometimes.” Phantom looks away and back to the tubes. 

Before Kon can ask for more details, Robin and Empress come in with a report of dead computers and wanting to know where they’re at with the cloning room.

They’re unimpressed with their lack of progress.

Two

Wally doesn’t really need to come by the Hamilton Lodge that often, not when that’s Young Justice’s territory and he doesn’t want to get involved in all of That.

But Red Tornado said that the team has a file on a planet that’s very quickly becoming a league problem, and he figured it might be a good time to try to check in with Bart, anyway. Make sure he hasn’t run any cars off cliffs again and all that. 

So he stops by Manchester to ask Bart about the file, then they both head East to actually find it. 

When they arrive at the hotel minutes later, Wally’s surprised to actually find it… clean? There’s no visible trash or overturned furniture or anything else he’d expect from an abandoned hotel filled with teenagers. Well, maybe not filled, lately. He doesn’t think anyone’s living here currently, with Greta at Elias’ for the school year and Slobo gone. 

Still, the room smells slightly of artificial pine scent, and Bart perks up before disappearing and reappearing rapidly, holding a teammate up by his armpits. Said teammate just accepts this, his legs folding into a wispy tail, and head rolling against his shoulders. 

“This is Phantom!” Bart holds him up higher. Phantom waves. Wally’s only heard of him through Max’s updates, the same way he would hear about Preston or Carol, but with more wariness about the supposed ghost. 

Actually looking at the pale face and glowing green eyes contrasting against the darker than dark jumpsuit, Wally’s a little more ready to accept his claim at being undead. 

“He stress cleans,” Bart explains, moving to carry Phantom under his arm. Wally bites down the urge to tell him to put him down, but only because Phantom doesn’t resist the hold, only moving to get into a more comfortable position. His hands are touching the floor. “So what happened?” 

Bart directs the question downwards, and Phantom heaves a very dramatic sigh. Definitely a teenager. It does raise the question of who exactly this kid’s mentor is. Hopefully he does have one. Maybe he’s the Spectre’s kid?

Phantom phases through the arm holding him only to lay on top of Bart’s hair. “I accidentally called Richard dad. And then fled.” 

Bart nods sagely. “Classic. One time I accidentally called Max dad, so I had to start a fire to distract him.”

Phantom sighs again, almost dreamily. “Genius.” 

Wally doesn’t have time to unpack all of that. Well he does, but he’s not going to, because there’s really only one Richard that comes to mind that might have the heart to take in a dead kid, even if he doesn’t go by his full name.

But surely Dick would have told him, or any other Titan, if he had adopted a kid. Right?

But there’s still a little shadow of doubt. Maybe Dick wanted it to be a secret, or it was really new or had a rocky start. Phantom doesn’t seem to hold himself like a Bat, but it’s not a guarantee Dick would have trained him. 

“The lodge looks nice,” Wally offers out loud, which Phantom shrugs at and wraps his tail around Bart’s head to keep secure. “Anyway, Impulse. The file on Myrg?” 

“Oh yeah!” Again, Bart disappears then reappears a few seconds later with a paper file. They really need to start digitizing more of these things. “That’s the planet where we played baseball so that they wouldn’t destroy Earth!” 

“You what.” 

The prospect of Dick following in his dad’s footsteps is forgotten in the face of what the hell Young Justice got up to on Myrg. 

Three

Tim may be in a…Predicament. 

It’s not his fault. Really. He knew what he was doing. He couldn’t let a civilian fall for the trap. But they were already so close, so he just, kinda, pushed himself into the rope instead. 

So there Robin is, tied upside down in a warehouse, with the Joker below next to an overly complicated control panel. The clown’s rambling about bombs hidden all over the city that Tim knows Batman is already tracking down with Batgirl. 

Tim’s not really paying attention to the rant because of that, more focused on wiggling enough to get the spare mini-birdarang out of his glove to cut the rope without notifying the Joker. 

“Yikes, bad time?” Asks Phantom’s voice beside him. Based on the source and accounting for the slight echo, he’s floating with his head near Tim’s, likely upside down. “Want some help?” 

Tim gets the birdarang out and starts sawing at the thick rope. They should be fine anyway, but stalling the Joker for extra time would be helpful. “Can you possess the Joker? Just hold him still.”

“The correct term is overshadow, but sure.” The voice disappears, and a few seconds later the Joker freezes. 

His body jerks forward, then backward, and a laugh chokes out of his throat. His hand claws over his mouth at the noise and he hunches over. All movement halts before he rights himself, shaking out his hands and rolling his shoulders. Phantom looks up at Tim and his eyes are glowing. 

Tim cuts through the rope, kicking and using the momentum to right himself and land on his feet. He brushes past Phantom in Joker’s body to handle the control panel. He turns off the radio broadcast and dismantles the bomb strapped to the panel.

Threat handled, he turns to Phantom and holds up some handcuffs. “Let me arrest you?”

Phantom obliges, turning the Joker’s body around and putting his hands behind his back. Tim lets him walk by himself out of the warehouse and moves the handcuffs around a lamppost. The Joker’s body jerks again, then slumps forward, just as Phantom reappears next to him, scowling down at the unconscious body. 

“That felt really slimy. Zero out of ten, would not do again,” Phantom grouches. 

“Why’re you in Gotham?” Tim asks. It’s not like Phantom makes a habit of visiting. The last time he came into the city, he complained about feeling the dead under the streets. Fortunately, that let Tim uncover a few tunnels that Talons travel through. Phantom, however, was unnerved by the Talons and left quickly. 

“Oh, Solomon Grundy’s back in our sewers. Richard said I should probably tell one of you Gotham heroes, since you keep track of those guys.” He shakes out his hands like they were cramped in the Joker. 

They hadn’t seen Grundy in a while. Tim assumed he was currently in a less violent personality. “What’s he doing?” 

Phantom shrugs. “Just chilling. Mostly underground. I tried to talk to him but he only grunted back at me. He also tried to pick me up, dunno what that was about.”

“Maybe because you’re both dead?” Tim guessed. That would be a surface level connection. Ivy and Woodrue have had more luck working with Grundy than anyone, and Phantom definitely doesn’t have the connection to the Green that’d help with that. 

Police lights turn around the corner, and Tim shoots a grapple to get to the roof above them. Phantom follows, but disappears as soon as they’re on the roof. Going back home, probably. 

Cass drops down from the roof she was listening on. “Richard?”

“Not the same one.”

They both stick around long enough to watch the Joker get put into the cop car. 

Plus one

A spaceship landed in the forests of New York, and Cassie’s team was the first to respond to it. Technically not respond, but check it out, since there wasn’t any alert or anything. 

Still, Wonder Girl has Empress, Robin, and Superboy on the other side of the ship, watching what looks like the back door, while she, Impulse, and Phantom watch the other door and main window. She has binoculars, but the windows are so tinted she can’t quite make anything out. 

No aliens have come out yet, and she hesitates to have anyone go in, in case whoever inside does turn hostile. 

Impulse has offered to run through a total of five times already, and it’s a testament to his restraint that he hasn’t, and a testament to Cassie’s that she hasn’t yelled at him yet. Phantom at least isn’t being annoying, but he’s not necessarily helpful, either. He’s not even watching the spaceship anymore. Now he’s trying to make a flower crown out of dandelions. 

“Door’s opening on our side,” Robin says from the comms. “But no one’s coming out.” 

“Alright, good enough to try to get in,” Cassie decides. She turns to Phantom, who’s closing off the circle of flowers. Beside him, Impulse has since pulled out a gameboy. “Phantom, go in invisibly through the open door and report back. Try to see what their plans are.” 

“Oh, sure. One second.” Phantom finishes the crown and tries to put it on Bart’s head. It doesn’t quite fit over his mane of hair, but Phantom shrugs and leaves it sitting there anyway before going invisible. 

“Maybe I should shave my head again,” Bart says as his game character dies. 

He gets a resounding no in response. 

Half an hour later they have a very annoyed Green Lantern lecturing them about league jurisdiction and knowing when to call someone else. 

Apparently, the alien ship was just stopping to complete some maintenance, and did not appreciate any spying on them, and especially did not appreciate who did it. Green Lantern was more than happy to explain that Wonder Girl’s team is not really a part of the Justice League and he can help with their maintenance. They denied his help and left to find a place with less people in it. 

“-and you!” Green Lantern rounds on Phantom next, but Cassie knows none of them are really listening. Sure, they messed up by freaking out the visiting aliens, and yeah maybe they should have contacted the league about it, but they’ve dealt with stuff worse than this! It’s not Cassie’s fault she thought that this would have stuck to the formula. 

“Who even are you?” Green Lantern runs a hand through his black hair, stupid green gauntlets shining in the sunlight. “Do I need to call your mentor?” He frowns. “Or do they know you mess up alien technology by just being around it?” 

Phantom scoffs and rolls his eyes. “How was I supposed to know their tech would go all fuzzy when I came in?” 

“You wouldn’t have to know if you just stayed out of the spaceship!” 

“Hey!” Cassie cuts in. “Technically that was my call. It’s not all on Phantom.”

“I still could've been more careful,” Phantom says to her, ignoring Green Lantern as they argue about blame. 

“Cut it out for a second, okay?” Green Lantern puts a hand between them and they stop to glare at him. He pulls the hand back. “Look, can I just talk to one of your adults about this?” 

Robin glares. “We don’t need an adult. We have this under control.”

“Only because I’m here now.” 

“I’ll call my mentor,” Phantom says. Kon opens his mouth, most likely to offer to call Superman instead in hopes of a lighter sentence, but Bart covers his mouth, smiling like he knows something Cassie doesn’t. Tim and Anita share a look, and don’t intervene as Phantom pulls out a phone from his chest. 

It rings once before it’s picked up. Cassie can’t hear the other side of the conversation, but Kon’s eyebrows scrunch in confusion. “Hey, do you think you can pick me up? Green Lantern wants to talk to you.” Phantom looks Green Lantern up and down then says, “No, this one doesn’t have a cape.”

Phantom says goodbye after rattling off their coordinates, hangs up, and stares at Green Lantern in silence for a few seconds. 

And then a swirling mass of black seeps into the space next to Phantom. The end of a cane steps out of it, followed by a leg, then the rest of the immaculately dressed man holding the handle of the cane that’s shaped like a bird’s head. 

“Phantom,” The man says. His voice drips with condescension in only a way a british accent can, yet Phantom smiles up at him. The shadowy portal behind him disappears. “What, exactly, happened?”

“That’s the fucking Shade,” Anita hisses to Robin, who shrugs noncommittedly at her. Green Lantern seems to recognise him too, taking a step back and clenching his hand that holds his ring. 

“Well, the team and I were staking out this spaceship–super cool, by the way–and I went inside to check it out, but my presence messed with their tech–which was an accident–and they freaked out, so I freaked out, and then we kinda got into a little fight until Green Lantern came to mediate.”

“Hm. Is that right?” The Shade asks Green Lantern, who nods slowly, still anticipating an attack. “It seems like the problem’s fixed, then.”

“Well, yes, but–”

“And it does seem about time for these kids to get home, doesn't it?” The Shade pulls out an actual pocket watch, chain and all, from his suit pocket and takes his time in checking it. “I’ll see them home.” 

Shadows grow from behind the team, swirling until they become a giant, gaping maw that swallows them up and spits them out in a different forest, or maybe just a different part of the same forest. 

Either way, Cassie has to take a moment to make sure she doesn’t throw up from the sudden vertigo the shadow portal caused. 

The Shade looks at Phantom, and raises an eyebrow. “You can’t expect me to always bail you out.” 

Phantom shrugs, looking guilty. “I know. Thanks, Richard.”

Oh, so that’s who Richard is. Annoyingly, neither Tim or Bart look surprised by this revelation.

[rosemarie333]

Astro Observations: Tropical Edition (Sexology🔞)

Hello Guys! Thank you for the support of my couple last post! Since we did a Vedic one, I kind of want to do a Tropical Edition one especially since I am more versed about it, SO I HAVE MORE TO SHARE😋

These are based on my perspective of placements and signs, so take what resonates and leave what doesn’t🫶🏾 I’d love to hear y’all’s take as well!

Please do not read if under the age of 18.

Let’s start!

1. Both men and women who have water paired with a fire placement or air placement are much more emotionally detached about sex compared to one with an earth or several water placements. I knew a scorpio moon guy with an aquarius mars and oh BABY he was so detached about sex, it was more of a conqueror thing than a thing of having sex with people he acc liked (he also was an aries sun💀). Water and fire can definitely still get attached but when it is time to walk away if the relationship doesn’t serve them they WILL in a heartbeat.

2. Mars with jupiter men be having that BIG shit compared to mars with saturn. But with jupiter, they’re so fucking cocky about it like babe no one cares more than you do. I knew a guy who had this aspect and he would talk about his length all the TIME like it was a flex 😭. Mars with saturn i have heard can restrict ur length or make you overall much more conscious with sex and sometimes even insecure. You hear the mars/jupiter being the loud asf one about sex and the mars/saturn lowkey watching in insecurity or in like a 🙄pipe down look.

3. Pluto aspecting ur mars or venus ESP in a water sign omgggg y’all can get super attached just by looking at someone like😭 once y’all have sex with someone y’all NEVER want to let them go and become so possessive and jealous (it can happen with any element to be honest but with water yeahhhh y’all never leaving) i think it def applies to scorpio mars and venus people but idk i feel like they get super attached but then they are super unattached at the same time IDK how to explain it

4. If you want to degrade someone because your into that kink, you have CAPRICORNS who love that🫶🏾🫶🏾 LMAO every capricorn lowkey either loves degrading themes orrr they love to be praised because they lack that🥺

5. Gemini placements do like to be talked while doing it likeeeee BITCH TELL ME IM DOING GOOD😭 tmi but like they really do and tbh most of them are really good at oral sex (using hands bc that’s what gemini rules) soooooo

6. If you’re not into threesomes don’t mess with a sage or aquarius bc they down for ANYTHING tbh. Sag placements love trying new things and aquarius placements are into unconventional themes so try it out with them if you’re into that.

7. Aquarius placements or heavy uranus aspects suffer from porn the most imo because uranus rules technology. Like i have met a aquarius that could watch porn every part of the day (but i have met some that ARE SO against it and they don’t watch it so i guess it depends on placements )

8. Don’t downplay the 6th house for synastry. The 6th house rules health and what you may do on an everyday basis. With mars and venus in one or the other 6th house i lowkey can deadass see y’all having sex like EVERY DAY or that’s the main theme when y’all see each other lol.

That’s it! Thank you for reading! I will get into individual placements really soon rather than talking about the general scope of placements!

[lemonlover1110]

Hi! For your requests could you do clingy reader in her early 20s and Toji in his mid 30s finding out she's pregnant and interacting with her strict parents? Please?

Whenever you get the chance, lysm!

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader

Summary: You break the news to your parents that you're expecting.

Warnings: Fluff, Pregnancy, Age Gap (Reader early 20s, Toji mid thirties), Toji being a nervous wreck, Strict Parents

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

Finding out that your girlfriend should be great news; however, this news takes Toji by surprise and leaves him unsure of how to feel. It definitely wasn’t planned, though he shouldn’t be shocked since you two weren’t all that careful. Toji wants to get really excited for this but there’s something that holds him back– Your parents.

Your parents haven’t been very accepting of Toji, mostly because of your age gap. Of course, there are some other factors that lead to your parents not liking Toji, but your age gap is the main one. Your parents aren’t easy human beings to win over, and for some reason Toji is freaking out about it. Truthfully, Toji has never been more worried in his life.

“Can’t you just call them? Tell them the great news?” He doesn’t hide the fact that he’s freaking out when you’re standing at their doorstep. You’re holding his hand, trying to get him to calm down, but it’s not working and you’re just feeling his sweaty palm. Great.

“C’mon, they’re not going to eat you alive. You are the reason they’re getting a cute grandbaby.” You tell him, hoping it’ll calm down his nerves, but he just side eyes you.

“Like that makes it any better.” He mutters, and you roll your eyes. Toji’s acting as if your dad is going to grab a shotgun and shoot him– Even if that were to happen, you’re almost sure that Toji will somehow deflect a bullet. “Baby, can you have an ambulance on standby?”

“Toji, for the love of–” You’re cut off by the door that opens. Your mother greets you both sweetly. She figured that she can’t change your mind, she might as well welcome Toji into the family. Your father is a whole different story though.

Your father is less welcoming to Toji, but he tries to make some conversation with the man. It’s dry since your father doesn’t want to talk to Toji, and Toji is losing his fucking mind.

Dinner begins, and your mother is the one that carries the conversation. Toji feels as if your father glares at him every once in a while, and you notice how his breathing gets heavier. He’s freaking out, and you don’t know how to calm him down. 

Your hand goes under the table, going to Toji’s thigh and lightly squeezing it, hoping it’ll bring him comfort. Toji gives you an awkward smile before sighing.

“So why did you two want to join us for dinner?” Your father asks, knowing this isn’t just a bonding dinner. You’re here for a reason. You clear your throat before speaking,

“We have an announcement.” You sound awkward, and your father furrows his eyebrows while your mother smiles, thinking she knows what the announcement is. You and Toji exchange a look, and you can tell he just wants to sprint out of the house. It’s hilarious to think about since Toji is the biggest person in the room, and not to even mention that you two are grown adults.

“You’re engaged! Let us see the ring!” Your mother exclaims, and Toji’s face suddenly gets hot. If he wasn’t dead before, he certainly is going to die now. The fact that you aren’t married is surely going to cause an issue.

“I don’t think that’s it…” Your father figures that out, but he can’t figure out the announcement. You take a deep breath, and you shut your eyes. You can’t even look at them, Toji’s nerves transferring over to you.

“I’m pregnant.” You share, and you know that their eyes are wide. You know Toji is about to faint.

“We don’t know how it happened– Well, we know how it happened but… We weren’t planning it so soon, I had a wedding and everything planned but this just came out of nowhere.” Toji is rambling. Your Toji, a man of few words, is trying to explain everything to your dad because he doesn’t want to die tonight. He’s sure he’s still going to, though. 

Your parents are oddly quiet, making you open your eyes and see what’s up with them. Your dad ends up sighing before speaking up, “You two are adults, you know what you’re doing.”

Your mother nods in agreement, and you furrow your brows at the lack of reaction. Toji shares the same reaction as you do. 

“Is that all?” Toji is about to let out a sigh of relief.

“Yup. Can’t hold you for too long since you two have to start planning a wedding soon.” Is your father’s response, and Toji chuckles. That’s more like it.

At least he isn’t dead, which was Toji’s expected outcome.

[meazalykov]

mind is well beyond my years

ingrid engen x reader

part one - part two here

summary: age wasn't going to stop you from being with the older woman

warnings: age gap (5 years) , reader being a flirt

as you step into the lounge, your eyes immediately start searching for her.

it’s a typical afternoon tuesday at the training ground, players scattered around, some deep in conversation, others scrolling through their phones, some breaking in their new cleats. but your focus is singular—ingrid.

you spot her near the window, her dark hair catching the light as she laughs at something fridolina said.

that laugh, it always does something to you, makes your heart skip a beat and your thoughts scatter. it’s been like this for a while now, this crush that you can’t seem to shake.

she’s older, more experienced, and undeniably out of your league, or at least that’s what you tell yourself every time she brushes off your flirtations.

but you’re not one to back down easily.

you make your way over, a casual smile on your face as you lean against the back of the chair she’s sitting in.

“hey, ingrid,” you greet, your tone light but laced with intent.

"hey, y/n! how are you?" she smiles.

“I’m okay— i just wanted to say that i saw your post from last night. you looked amazing in that ivory sweater, as always.” you comment.

“thanks, y/n,” ingrid replies. she glances up at you, her expression now unreadable from the smile she had moments ago.

her tone was polite, but almost distant. it’s the same response she always gives—acknowledging your compliment without giving you anything more to work with.

it’s frustrating, but you can’t help yourself. there’s something about her that draws you in, despite the coolness in her responses.

“I'm serious” you continue, undeterred by her lack of enthusiasm.

“you have a way of looking good all of the time, I'm not sure if its jealousy or something else." you hint.

“you’re exaggerating.” she shakes her head slightly, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

“not at all,” you insist, grinning. “just calling it like i see it.”

before you can push any further, fridolina walks over, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she looks between the two of you.

“mind if i steal ingrid for a bit?” she asks, not really waiting for your answer before she’s pulling ingrid up by the arm and leading her toward a quieter corner of the room.

you watch them go, your curiosity piqued. something about the way fridolina’s whispering and the slight tension in ingrid’s shoulders makes you wonder what’s going on.

you’re not usually one to eavesdrop, but this feels different. your gut feeling tells you that its important.

edging closer, you try to be as discreet as possible. the last thing you want is to get caught, but you can’t help it. you have to know what they’re talking about.

“i don’t know what to do,” ingrid’s voice drifts to you, low and uncertain.

“she’s just… she’s so young, frido. i can’t get involved with her, can i?”

your heart skips a beat. are they talking about you? you lean in a little closer, holding your breath.

“she’s only a few years younger,” fridolina replies softly.

“and she’s clearly crazy about you. honestly, ingrid, i think you’re overthinking this. nobody would judge you if something were to happen between you two.” fridolina continues.

“but i’ve always kept things professional with her, you know? and now i’m worried i’ve gone and caught feelings.” ingrid sighs, and you can practically hear the conflict in her voice.

your pulse quickens at her words. ingrid likes you? you’re not sure whether to be thrilled or terrified, but one thing is clear: you need to talk to her.

walking into that corner of the room, you take a deep breath and call her name.

“ingrid,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady. both women turn to look at you, surprise evident on their faces. “can we talk?”

fridolina gives ingrid a knowing look before excusing herself, leaving the two of you alone. ingrid fidgets with the sleeve of the black training kit, avoiding your gaze.

it’s the most vulnerable you’ve ever seen her, and it tugs at your heart.

“so,” you begin, taking a step closer, “you've caught feelings, huh?”

ingrid’s cheeks flush slightly as she finally meets your eyes.

“you weren’t supposed to hear that,” she mutters, but there’s no real anger in her voice.

“maybe not,” you admit, a small smile tugging at your lips, “but i’m glad i did. because i think it’s time we stopped dancing around this.”

“y/n, you’re so young. you're twenty-one and i didn’t think you were serious about… all of this.” she lets out a small, exasperated laugh, shaking her head.

“i’ve been serious from the start. i just thought you were out of my league, you know?” you raise an eyebrow, giving her a playful smirk.

“you? thinking someone’s out of your league?” she teases back, and you’re relieved to see the tension in her shoulders ease slightly.

“you’ve never been shy about flirting with me.” she walks forward. you don't bother to step back.

“well,” you say, voice dropping to a more sincere tone, “that’s because i’ve always liked you, ingrid. and i’d really like to give this a shot, if you’re up for it.”

ingrid’s eyes search yours, and you can see the conflict still warring within her. but then, slowly, she nods.

“okay,” she says softly. “let’s see where this goes.”

“i promise you won’t regret this.” you can’t help the grin that spreads across your face.

“you’re impossible, y/n.” she chuckles, shaking her head.

“impossible to resist, you mean,” you quip, earning a genuine laugh from her this time.

the sound is music to your ears, and as you walk out of the room together, you smile at fridolina who understands the bond that was just formed.

part two here

my master list is here if you want to read more fics <3

[lustlovehart]

Bitten Hope

A/n: loosely inspired by @merakiui ‘s DRU Jade and Death Row Floyd, not exact though, but I really liked her writing on their serial killer counterparts and took inspo!!

Pairing: Serial Killer! Jade Leech x Reader x Serial Killer! Floyd Leech

Summary: Interrogating criminals is your job, it’s rare for that to go wrong. Though, it’s even more rare for them to be infatuated with their investigator.

Warnings: Heavy Yandere [mdni] , Blood, Biting, Cuffing, Kidnapping, Violence, Dub-con kissing (not on mouth), aged 18+, Imprisonment

You’re stood on the other side of the one-way-looking glass. You can see them, but they can’t return that gaze. The two of them aren't eerily silent. No… they’re laughing and conversing as if this was just a regular brotherly reunion. To them, it might just be that, two brothers who are finally talking to one another after a year of only speaking through calls.

“Seems you’re still the same, Floyd”

“Well duhh, I don’t have that time you do to plan them out, I jus’ wanna get it over with”

“Perhaps that’s why you were caught much earlier than me.”

“Well you got jailed too so that doesn't change anythin’” Floyd leans back in the chair, his head craning up to look at the bright buzzing lights of the room.

“Ya think they’re gonna bring Shrimpy in?“

To this statement, the other twin looks at him, curiosity filled in those mismatched eyes.

“My, are you saying [name] is here?“

“Oh right, I didn’t tell ya cuz it woulda’ been lame if you knew,“ his head jumps back into place, a bubbly smile replacing his previously disinterested expression, “Yep! Shrimpy’s here, ain’t that nice~“

On the other side of the glass, you’re left balling your fist into itself.

How… How could they—!

A steady hand on your shoulder breaks your trance, the familiar sight of bright red somewhat comforting the tension in your joints.

“They were off-putting in our school years but, no one would’ve known how it was gonna turn out this way.” You place your hand above his, offering a smile to him to show your body easing itself.

“Yo Jade.”

“Yes?” Once again, Floyd’s mood changes, shifting from cheerful to… scary. The same aura can be felt from Jade but to a more concealed degree.

“I wanna break the glass.” You and Riddle's head turn immediately at the man’s suggestion.

“Pray tell how would you do that?” he tilts his head and strikes his signature close-eyed smile at his twin “And why do you wanna do that?”

“Dunno, wait till these cuffs come off.” His hands lift as the sound of clanging chains resonate through the empty room, his brother only smiling as he looks down at his own. “And I don’t like the vibe I got on the other side.”

You quickly move out of Riddles range, his hand grasping for where your shoulder previously was.

“Wha— You’re going in alre—?! [Name]—” You don’t reply, the sound of the door swinging open and shutting filling the silence of the space.

“Oh my. You should be more careful, any stronger and we could’ve broken free from these.” You sit on the other side of the steel table, crossing your legs as you lean into the cold metal.

Floyd’s been on death row for a month now, but he hasn’t given any leads. And Jade… he just got here. Maybe if the both of them are together we can…

“When. You can tell me.”

“When are we gonna marry Shrimpy? As soon as we get out—“

“No. When did you start? Killing. When did you start being murderers.” Jade lays his hands on the table, his biceps and forearms visibly buff as well as veiny.

“When do you think?”

“ Are you avoiding the question?”

“No, of course not, I’m just simply asking if you know—“ Floyd’s upper half quickly flops onto the surface, a loud sigh interrupting you and Jade.

“Since the last year of school, now can we talk about Shrimpy ‘stead, talkin bout us is boring”

“Floyd…” Jade's lips are pursed in a line, he expected his brother's outburst but he hoped it would come later compared to sooner.

“Whaat, the faces people made when I strangled them aren’t fun to think about anymore,” his body stays flopped, only turning his head as his smile is aimed towards you. “So shrimpy, yah still single right~? Savin marriage for us yeah?”

“You… I am not!”

“But you’re still available? I see.” Their flirtatious comments only serve as a way to piss you off even more.

“You two… I’m not going to marry serial killers…!”

“Then do not think of us as killers, think of us as your lovers.”

“I will not…! Ugh… just be quiet and answer me.” They don’t reply only giving you the smiles they would flash at you when school was still happening. I can’t be obvious with my questioning—

“About 250.”

“Jade, what are you talking about…?”

“You were about to ask us how many victims we’ve had yes?”

…

…What? What? We only linked 8 of those murders to Jade how could he possibly—

“Floyd, what about you?” Floyd looks up at the sky, his face almost cartoony as he ponders about the answer as if he’s on TV.

“Uhhh, dunno. I didn’t count. Was a big number too though.

… How did these two even—

…

“ Where are these people now? How did you do it to them?”

“Shrimpy wants to know real bad huh’. Okay, I’ll tell yah.“ you didn’t think his grin could grow any bigger but it does, somehow. “but yah gotta lean in close.”

Ignoring the obvious risk of getting too near, if you do this… you have the opportunity to finally know what’s happened to all these people. All those missing person cases… you can find out just how many of them were the faults of these two.

You look back at the glass for a moment. Knowing that Riddle is on the other side eases your tension, albeit only a little. Well…

You hope he’s on the other side.

Your body slowly leans towards him, each second making you wanna back out, but pushing through it despite that gnawing feeling.

Floyd’s smile seems to be the biggest it's ever been. His face comes closer to your own, his voice low as the whisper that leaves his lips sends chills throughout your body.

“Ya ready?”

It happens too fast. He’s swift with the movement, before you can fully lean back to avoid it, you can feel it. His lips are felt on your cheek before the tender texture is replaced with sharp edges that dig into the nape of your neck. Your fingers lock into his hair, immediately pulling yourself free from his Jaws.

The chair you originally sat on is knocked back onto the floor. The clattering sound of the seat resonated through the walls.

“Awwww shrimpy looks cute with red all over!” He flashes his teeth, once white canines, are now painted in red. The sight makes you freak out, both of your hands flying up to the wound in your neck, putting immediate pressure on the bite.

He didn’t hit anything vital, only deep enough to bleed me… but if I don’t get this wrapped up it might get infected.

You don’t spare them any more words, immediately walking to the door and gripping the handle. You swing it down pulling the exit inwards.

…

It won’t open.

It won’t…

“My I do wonder where that other officer went…” Your head stays locked on the handle, not even daring to turn back to face them.

“Goldfish s’out already? I wanted him to see you in red, ain’t that his favorite color?”

“How did you…?”

“Tarts, they do smell incredibly sweet, don’t they? Though, I do prefer eating their consumers instead.” It’s uncanny. Jade is putting on that… that smile…! He’s spotless, unlike his brother, the brother that’s exuding such a joyful aura with blood splattered on his mouth… The brother doesn’t seem bothered at all by the iron liquid that is absorbed in his jumpsuit.

“So that’s how… That’s how you covered up the rest of your victims…”

“Yes. Now do you understand self-control as well?” His eyes slowly trail down to your hands as he speaks, his tongue quickly wiping his lips before retreating inside. “It takes a lot of restraint to not take a bite out of such a lovely meal. I’m quite jealous of Floyd.”

“You wanna…?”

“Eat you? Oh no, not anymore. But, just a little nibble doesn’t hurt any—“

Clang!!

Your focus is caught by the sudden explosion of sound. Your eyes quickly shift to the interruption.

“So that’s how you gotta do it. It ain’t that much Jade, you jus’ pull up real hard.”

…

Floyd is out.

“It was that simple? Then let’s be quick.” Jade follows his brother's instructions, the same clanging sound ringing in the space. “It’s much more comfortable not having our hands chained to that cold metal table. It seems I even have bruises on my wrist from such capture.” He’s not lying, his wrists are littered with purple bruises, but you bet he was the one who caused those himself, not the cuffs.

“Look look!” the two of them circle the table, each step they take more menacing than the last. “Jades got a booboo on him, you gonna kiss it all nice and better right~“

Jade plays along seamlessly, wiping away tears that aren’t there at all. “Yes… It hurts a lot, it would feel much better if someone made it all better.“

“you…! I’m not going to-!“

“Jades hurt. You gonna fix him or what?“ His voice is deep, it’s not playful anymore, and his face is practically inches from your own, it’s horrifying... If you keep rejecting them you… You don’t wanna guess what’ll happen.

Riddle… Deuce… Why isn’t anybody coming?! Even if Riddle left for a moment he should be back, even then someone would’ve checked up on us…! Where… where…?!

“Won’t you heal me, nurse?“

This was so stupid! I should’ve come in with Riddle, or told him to come in with me! With how quickly I rushed in I didn't bring any of my weapons I’m…!

Your knees give out beneath you, falling onto the floor while the twins followed you down. Your fingers reach towards Jade, pulling his limb close to your mouth. The two of them smile at you, watching carefully each movement with an overabundance of joy.

Your lips make contact with the skin of his wrist. You don’t focus on the texture of his hand, only putting all your attention on this task.

“It still hurts dear, I would like more.“

This is humiliating.

“Shrimpy’s cute kissin’ you like that, I wanna take another bite.“

You keep going with Jade, placing more kisses on that one wrist before transferring to the next one.

Someone… Anyone please…!

Floyd leans into the side of your neck, the side completely clean and, un-marked. His mouth opened and his hot breath coated the skin of your side. You don’t stop your assault on Jade's hands, only acting as if Floyd isn’t readying himself to bite you again.

I’m gonna die. These two are gonna kill me.

To your right, wind blows next to you, the brighter light of the hallways illuminating into the room.

Someone… Someone came…! I’m free…!

“Rid–!... dle…?“

“You two… You couldn’t wait any longer than 20 minutes could you?!“

A man wearing a black hoodie and surgical mask walks in, the baseball cap and sunglasses covering any distinguishing traits he could possess.

“Ah, seems we forgot. Forgive us Azul.“

“It's not our fault you took so long, it wasn’t fun waitin’, we just wanted to mess with Shrimpy for a bit, s’not fair you got to play while we were locked in here.“

No… No…!

It’s been years since you’ve seen the con man. His looks have changed, but, he’s still the same it seems.

Hopefully… he doesn’t work out. Distantly, you can remember a point in time when you had wrestled Azul during your school years, albeit it was more of a surprise attack than an actual fight. You won against him.

Against the twins, even in NRC they had insane strength, so directly fighting them would’ve been a death wish, but with Azul, you might have a chance.

You pull all your leftover strength into your calves, pushing yourself up from the space between Floyd and Jade, ready to throw yourself at the man.

Before you even have a chance you’re pulled back down as a needle is pointed at your face. Jade's hand is tightly wrapped around your throat as Floyd’s arms squeeze around your waist.

“It’s rude to leave in the middle of a ‘party’ Is that not what you said to us back then?”

“You guys are leaving? Why?! A… special meeting? But I made all of you presents…! Look, I spent so much time making little eels and even an octopus…! Don’t go yet—! Oh, you’re not…? Great!”

“Where… Where’s Riddle…? Deuce…? Please I need to know—”

“They’re alive. Just asleep.” Azuls eyes look to the side, a little red blob reflected on his lenses when he turns.

“Really…? Good good…”

“But only if you behave.” His leather shoes take a few steps forward before kneeling down, his eyes scanning your body. Mostly unharmed, besides the vicious bite Floyd left on you. “Floyd did you really—” his eyes pinch together before his finger massages the nose of his bridge, the most exhausted exhale leaving his mouth at the sight,” It's… whatever, unless you two wanna stay on death row we have to go now.”

My best choice is to let them go, I'm unarmed and no one else is coming so… I’ll just use the building's cameras to figure out what they plan to do next.

“You guys can leave, no ones… no one’s going to stop you—” your body is lifted into the air, your stomach having the sharp pain of a shoulder blade driving into it.”w-wait stop…!” your legs kick and flail all around, but the hold Floyd has on your body doesn’t falter for a second.

Before you can lift your arms to hit him from behind, Jade locks them together using a spare pair of handcuffs he stole off Riddle’s unconscious body. His finger plays with the chain between the cuffs as a smirk plays on his lips at your struggle.

“I wouldn’t advise it.” His finger makes your hands move up and down before hooking the underside with his index. He doesn’t let up, successfully locking your hand from further use.

“We have 10 minutes to drive out of here, you two are lucky this place is on the edge of town.”

No… Please…!

Before you leave the room, your eyes take a glance at Riddle's body. It’s only a slight bit of movement, but you can see him stir up, his head turning to face the doorway.

He can’t move. It’s over.

The last thing you see before being swept away is the bright red of his pupils widening at the sight of you bitten and taken.

“[Name]… Stop… Don’t take…!”

A quick glance is all it takes before his eyes shut close again, the last thing his vision pieces together being the sight of your form carried away from view. The tall silhouettes of Jade and Floyd shrouding in shadows as they leave through the doors, the hooded figure waving his hand before following behind. The trail of officers littered behind them is a sad sight.

As they leave, their disappearance will leave a stir in their community, all that’s left being the view of their successful escape.

“[Name] [Last], missing, please call 911 if any leads.”

———

This is leaning towards heavier dark tones than what I usually write, but I hope you enjoyed it anyway <3

[merakiui]

the birds and the bees.

yandere!riddle rosehearts x (female) reader cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, nsfw, slight dub-con, implied stalking, age gap (riddle is 19 and reader is 29) note - you're hired to teach riddle about the birds and the bees. you need the money. he needs to get laid.

The Rosehearts’s Residence looks about how you expected it to after driving past houses of similar size and grandeur. Unlike you, they’re definitely not strapped for cash. It’s an impressive structure with its elegant wrought iron gates and expertly trimmed hedges. You’re immediately overcome with bitter jealousy when you step through the entrance, passing rose bushes in full bloom. If only your apartment could look and feel as nice as this place. You almost wonder if you should keep Mrs. Rosehearts’s contact in case she ever needs a gardener or a window washer…

But then that risks your cover, and the last thing you want is to get tangled up in trouble with the upper middle class.

Gathering your courage, you smooth invisible wrinkles in your pencil skirt, steady your balance in your Mary Janes—both at socially acceptable lengths and heights—and bring your fist down against the door. Seconds after the third knock, it opens to reveal a woman who looks as prim and proper as the landscape of her home. She takes a long moment, drinking in your formal features, and then smiles approvingly.

“Ah, (Name), you’re early.”

You soften your face into something polite and demure. “Better early than late.”

“I couldn’t agree more.”

She steps aside, gesturing for you to come in. You meander into the foyer and are instantly reminded of those exquisite house tours on MagiTube. There’s a fine layer of modest Victorian wealth to the decor. Flowery wallpaper, a lofty ceiling, an aureate chandelier, a vase filled with fresh tulips of all colors… Oh, how you wish you could live here!

“Your home is beautiful,” you comment as you straighten your bow headband.

“Why, thank you.” Her eyes light up once more. “I’ve always admired this neighborhood. Everything is so well-kept. Speaking of which, where did you say you’re from?”

“Oh, I’m actually getting ready to move back to school at the end of the summer,” you explain, narrowly dodging her question. No way I’m telling her I live in a not-so-affluent neighborhood… She’ll totally kick me out. “I’m staying with my parents in the meantime and working a few jobs to support myself.”

“And what was it you’re studying again?”

You paste a hollow smile on, sensing her distrust. I already told you this when we met at the clinic. Do I really seem so suspicious?

“I’m studying to be an ob-gyn.”

“A wonderful profession,” she praises, nodding to herself. “Very wonderful indeed. And how old are you? I merely ask to confirm. There are so many miscreants nowadays. You can never be too sure.”

“I understand completely, Mrs. Rosehearts. I’m—” you almost falter, your real age on the tip of your tongue— “twenty-two. What about your son? You told me he’s also looking to get into the medical field?”

“Not looking. He will pursue medicine,” she corrects sternly. “Just like his mother.”

You swallow your disgust and try not to let it show so openly. Yikes… Talk about controlling.

Mrs. Rosehearts waves you onwards down the hall. “My Riddle will be leaving for his first year of college at the end of August. Though I’m certain he’s more than prepared, it never hurts to review.”

“Absolutely. So you’d like me to give him the talk?”

“Not just that. I’d like you to teach him well enough so that copulation and any other libidinous ideas are the last things on his mind. Stamp them out if you must. He’s to focus on his studies and make good decisions just as I raised him.”

Shouldn’t he already be familiar with this? Besides, he’s not a kid. Of course he’s going to think about sex. Most of us do when we’re horny.

But you can’t say that outright, so you settle for something vastly different.

“It’s important to stay on the right path and be responsible.”

Mrs. Rosehearts nods her agreement. Your stomach twists in discomfort.

On second thought, I don’t want to be upper middle class if these are the people I have to deal with. Is this guy going to have any chance to be social? To live his life? To make and learn from stupid mistakes? I bet he can’t wait to get out of here and go off to school.

“I apologize if this is rude in any way, but I just want to ensure I’ll be paid accordingly.”

“Of course. Good work must always be recognized and rewarded.” She stops at a door. “I cannot thank you enough for lending my Riddle your time. Teach him well.”

“I’ll do just that. You can count on it.”

Pleased with the level of maturity you’ve displayed, she raps her knuckles against the door and calls out, “Riddle, the tutor’s here.”

“Very well, Mother. I’ve just finished today’s readings, so you can send them in,” comes a muffled reply.

Today’s readings? you think, perplexed. Your gaze slides from the door to Mrs. Rosehearts. Does she have this guy doing summer school? That must suck! What a shitty way to spend your summer, cooped up inside filling out workbooks and stuff.

“I’ll be out running errands in the meantime. I trust you’ll be all right by yourself?”

“Perfectly all right,” you assure her, to which she hums and strides past you. You catch her perfume as she departs, and it reminds you of the types of scents worn by saggy, old ladies who have nothing better to do than sit around and complain about the state of the world and the way their children turned out.

In other words, a scent you associate with misery.

You wait until she’s out of sight before opening the door and stepping inside the study. There’s a mahogany desk in the center, and thick textbooks are piled high on either side. Beyond that, beside a big bay window with cream-colored curtains drawn to let in the sun, two large bookcases are packed with an array of tomes. At the front of the room, a blackboard has been built into a wooden frame. Chalk lines the ledge, situated within reach of an eraser. And sitting at the desk, his eyes glued to an open book, is a young man. A pair of round frames sit on the bridge of his nose, slipping ever so slightly down the slope of it when he peers at the page. He pushes them up when he finally lifts his head to greet you.

“Hey.” You wave awkwardly, easing the door shut.

He seems taken aback by your appearance. “Oh, yes. Right. Hello…”

Silence soon fills the space. You wonder if you should just save yourself this nonsensical waste of time and retreat.

“Sooo.” You fold your arms behind your back, rocking on your heels. “Your mother’s probably told you why I’m here.”

“I’m aware.” He shuts his book and stands from his seat. “My name is Riddle Rosehearts. A pleasure to meet you.”

You blink at his outstretched arm. “(Name). Likewise.” You grab his hand and shake firmly. 

So stiff…

“So where’re we starting? The basics? You want the whole ‘when a man and a woman love each other very much’ version or—”

Riddle scoffs and yanks his arm back. “I’m not a fool. I’ll have you know I’m well aware of sexual reproduction and what it entails.”

“You can call it sex. No one’s forcing you to be all biological,” you tease. His body goes rigid, and his face reddens in what you assume is flustered annoyance. “Anyways, since you’re not as brainless as Mother Dearest wants me to assume, I’ll just get into it.”

Riddle stares at you, his arms folding over his chest. He looks like he wants to argue, but instead he huffs and lowers into his chair.

Wordlessly, you undo the buttons on your blazer and shrug out of it. Your blouse goes next, untucked from your skirt and shucked. Riddle’s eyes are so wide they nearly pop out of his skull when he spies the white, lacy false collar that just barely covers your breasts. You’re about to step out of your pencil skirt next when Riddle clears his throat.

“W-What’re you doing?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“No?”

“I’m teaching you the birds and the bees.”

“N-Not in that outfit! S-Surely not…” He averts his eyes, crimson crawling up to his ears. “You’re practically nude!”

“That’s the point of lingerie, silly.” Your skirt pools around your ankles to reveal the rest of your frilly ensemble. A black-and-white cupless bra and crotchless panties set, both with plenty of ruffles, held together with a pair of garters. Still wearing matching stockings and your precious Mary Janes, you bend down to gather your discarded clothes. They’re set aside on a nearby chair. “You can look.”

“A-Absolutely not!” he hisses, squeezing his eyes shut. “Y-You… You’re not decent. It’s rude to stare.”

“Come on. You got past anatomy diagrams just fine.”

Riddle opens and closes his mouth, speechless like a beached fish. Eventually, he manages to gather his coherency. “You’re a tutor, aren’t you? Where’s your dignity?”

“Nonexistent. I lied.” His head snaps over to view you, and he seems so scandalized by your admission that it’s almost comedic. “No way I’m studying to be an ob-gyn. I’m not even in school.”

“What?! But you—”

“It’s fine. I looked the part, didn’t I?” you joke, waving your hand about dismissively. “C’mon, mama’s boy. You’re going off to college. It’s nothing like those stuffy anatomy courses.”

Riddle tries and fails to look at anywhere that isn’t you, his eyes lingering on your chest to the space between your legs to the thigh garter and then to the ceiling. He’s so red you think he might explode.

“You’ve been with a girl before, yeah?”

With lips pursed in a tight line, he shakes his head.

“Sounds about right.”

“And you’re so experienced?”

You flash him a cheeky grin. “Don’t worry about it, mama’s boy.”

“I’m not a mama’s boy!”

“No? So you just let your mother treat you like a little baby at your grown age? You let her pick out sex tutors for you?”

“I—” He stops himself from speaking to mull over your questions. “If it’s what she deems necessary…”

“Because our biggest fear is sexually awkward you knocking up some girl at school, right?”

“I… I would never! Safe sex is—”

“Very important when you’re not trying to conceive. Good boy. See? You know your stuff.”

Riddle’s eyes narrow into vicious slits. You brush his scorching vitriol off and turn towards the board. Procuring a piece of chalk, you scrawl words on it: Birds and Bees 101. Wholly unamused, Riddle folds his arms across his chest.

“Your mother told me you’re gonna study medicine, so you’re probably familiar with everything already. And I’m sure you know all about the baby-making process on a biological level.” You whirl to face him, your tits bouncing with the peppy motion. Riddle swallows thickly. “But just to make sure… Let’s review.”

“R-Review? You don’t mean—”

“What’s this?” Your hands close around your tits. Riddle’s enchanted with the way you squeeze them—the way they depress under your fingers.

“Um… Ahem. Well… T-The breasts. They’re a type of glandular organ located on a woman’s chest, and they’re made up of lots of tissue and fat. There’s the mammary gland—that’s what produces milk. Oh, and then there are the areolas right around the nipples. Those are—”

“You can call them what they are.”

Riddle blinks, shaken from his studious spiel. “W-What?”

“You know the word, mama’s boy.”

He flusters. “Yes, I’m aware. But…”

“No harm in saying it.” You run your fingers over your nipples and giggle sweetly like a schoolgirl. “Go on…”

He inhales a deep breath. “They’re tits,” he mumbles, desultory. “Y-Your tits.”

You clap, beaming brightly. “Well done! Moving swiftly on…” You run your hands down the expanse of your stomach, stopping just beneath your navel. “What’s here?”

“Your womb. O-Otherwise known as the uterus. It’s where a baby grows over the course of nine months.”

“Mhm. Good job.”

He pushes his glasses up his nose, clearing his throat. “There’s more to your reproductive system than the uterus. Lots of parts. Important parts.”

“Right. But I don’t need to quiz you on it. You obviously know your stuff.”

Again, your fingers inch lower until they’re prodding at your folds. Riddle’s breath audibly hitches.

“And this?”

“Your vagina. It’s where—”

“What’s the other word?”

Riddle avoids your stare. “It sounds so vulgar…”

“So what?”

“S-So there ought to be a term that’s more…flattering.”

“Like what?” You approach him and, with the grace of a swan, lift your leg onto the desk to give him a better view of yourself. Shamelessly, you dip your fingers inside to spread yourself. “A guy called it the honeypot once. That pretty enough for you?”

Riddle squeaks and flinches back in his chair, his face now even redder than it was before. “T-That’s fine…”

“Really? I’d have thought the implication in that one is much dirtier than calling it a pussy.”

It takes him a moment to connect the dots, but once he does he gasps. “Ah. Then…”

You press inwards with your fingers, exaggerating a pornographic sigh. “Yeah?”

“Can I… M-May I call it your flower?”

“Sure.” His shoulders slacken with a flicker of relief. Your next words shatter that and his pride in one fell swoop. “That one’s not as special as you think, mama’s boy. I’ve heard it all—every type of flower you can think of.”

“Even a rose?”

“Especially a rose.” His lips twist into a disappointed moue. You chuckle and add, “You can call it a rose if you want. I don’t mind.”

Riddle meets your eyes then, searching them for the joke. When one doesn’t present itself, he relaxes. “All right. It’s a very pretty rose. Soft…”

“Aww. Thanks for saying so. It’s softer inside, y’know. See?” Spreading yourself wider, you angle your hips to bless him with the full view. “My fingers slide right in. Wanna guess why?”

“B-Because the vagina naturally—” He stops himself, his brows knitting together in contemplation. When he speaks next, it’s with a determined sort of conviction. “When you’re aroused, your rose produces a natural lubricant during sexual excitement.”

“Mhm. We call that ‘feeling good and getting wet,’ Dr. Rosehearts.”

“Yes. Y-Yes, I know that.” He eyes your pussy, a ravenous glimmer in his intelligent blue-greys. “And the wetness—it’s supposed to make it feel better. To make insertion easier, I mean.”

“Right again.” You ease your fingers out but not before thrusting them deeper just so he can hear the sinful sounds. They shimmer with your essence, enticing in a forbidden way. “What about the other parts? How about this spot here?” You brush against the hood of your clit, circling it slowly.

Riddle watches, hopelessly spellbound. “The clitoris.”

“I’m impressed. Most guys don’t know about it.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“But it’s your most sensitive erogenous zone! Just how uninformed does one have to be to neglect such a crucial part to your sexual anatomy?”

“Woefully uninformed, I’m afraid,” you mutter with a pout. Your fingertips drag your hood up to reveal that pretty, perky nub. “I think it’s dumb your mother wants me to talk you out of sex. You’re going to college. You’re an adult. You’re free to do whatever you want.”

“I…” Riddle frowns at that last line. “I have no interest in it. Besides, it’ll only hinder my studies. If I really need it, I’ll just masturbate. That’s healthy every now and then, and it doesn’t break any rules.”

“Really? No interest at all?” You shoot him a knowing look and run your tongue along your bottom lip. “Because your dick’s telling a different story.”

Riddle sputters, embarrassed, and squeezes his thighs together. His hands fly to cover his lap. “That’s because you’re—” He gazes at the floor. “Because you’re so pretty…”

Temporarily thrown off course, you gape at him. “What?”

“You’re beautiful.”

Gathering the remnants of your mask, you piece it together and laugh. “Not the first time I’ve heard someone describe it like that.”

“Not just your pussy.” Your gaze snaps to his. He smiles, impish. “I’m sure you know what I mean, Teacher.”

You exhale a short laugh. “Someone’s suddenly confident.”

Riddle rises from his seat. His fingers close around your wrist, gently pulling it away from your clit. He moves around the desk to stand in front of you and then, before you can comprehend his intentions, he’s pushing you down onto the desk. You yelp at the sudden change in position, your eyes blown wide when he presses his clothed hard-on against your bare pussy.

“You’re doing a poor job at dissuading me from wanting sex.”

“I wasn’t trying to.”

“Not in that outfit.” He grabs at the meat of your thighs and parts them. “If Mother knew you lied to her…”

You shake your head at him. “Please don’t tell her. I… I’m being serious. I need this money.”

“Desperately?”

Your lip curls into the beginning of a sneer. You hate feeling powerless more than anything, but the fiery glaze in his eyes is just as troubling. “I’m not going to beg.”

“I haven’t asked for that yet.”

You roll your eyes. “Not funny. I agreed to teach you about sex. We’re not actually doing it.”

“A shame.”

“You’ll find a nice girl at school. Don’t lose hope, mama’s boy. Lots of girls like the smart types who’ll give ’em a lecture on biology and stuff.”

“I think you misunderstand. I don’t want other girls.”

“Okay?”

“My mother’s paying for a tutor and I desire you, so unless you want to leave here as a lying cheat…” He hums, seeming awfully haughty to hold the only thing that tethers you to him above your head. “You need the money, right?”

“Yes. Sure, of course I do. But—” You shift on the desk, silently horrified when he rocks against you. “We can’t. Your mother—”

“Weren’t you the one saying I should live my life? That I have the freedom to do as I please?”

“That doesn’t mean—come on; listen to yourself. You can’t honestly think I’d fuck you.”

“No? And yet you came wearing this outfit, parading around the study with your pussy and tits out.” He glances past you at the window. “And you didn’t even bother to close the curtains… How brazen.”

Your attempt to jerk away from him is made in vain. He pins you down onto the desk, one hand squeezing your breast, while the other works to fish himself from his trousers. Now hard and leaking, his cock rests against your stomach. It’s not a terrible size. If anything, it’s perfect. Just right for your tastes.

“W-Wait! It’s not safe. You can’t—” You inhale sharply, bucking up towards his hand when he presses his thumb against your clit. Biting your lip, you fix him with a glower. “If you pay me… If you promise not to tell your mother—”

Riddle leans in close. “No one needs to know. No one but us.”

Your eyes flit about the room. With a withering sigh, you submit to his touch. “You’d better pull out in time.”

Riddle rolls his hips once and his cock drags along your folds. You hiss through your teeth at this new friction, a sinful delight more dizzying than any type of alcohol consumed in excess. “Do you want to be a mother?”

“What I want has nothing to do with you. I’m just—ooh—t-trying to survive. You wouldn’t know what that’s like, so don’t poke fun.”

Riddle hums, kneading your breast and rubbing you to the edge all at once. It’s so very obviously his first time, his zealous nature trumping any sort of experienced technique. It still does the trick, though, sending little bolts of pleasure up your spine.

“My mother wouldn’t just choose anyone. Her standards are very high.” His eyes flick to your face, drinking in your expression as it shifts with restrained bliss. “Somehow you’ve earned her approval.”

“Lying’ll do that.”

“Maybe.” His fingers replicate the motions you did earlier, though with a singular objective in mind. He’s so focused on succeeding in this endeavor that it makes him look so stiff. Under any other circumstances, you’d find it cute. “Mother always knows what’s best for me. Obviously you’ve met her criteria if she’s hired you.”

“Spoken like a true mama’s boy.” Seeing as this is now your unavoidable fate, you reach up to touch his shoulders. He jolts, his initial glare softening. You tamp down another giggle and massage up and along his arms. “Relax a little. Don’t rush so much.”

Or do. Let’s get this over with before your mother catches us.

Riddle traces two fingers along your labia. He’s quiet as he takes all of you in, and when he sinks three fingers into your gooey heat his breath catches in his throat. “Are you… D-Do you feel good?”

You reach for his unoccupied hand and guide it to your clit. Riddle understands the suggestion well enough, for he massages you slowly. Sucking in another breath, you nod at him.

“Not bad. You’re getting there.”

His neglected cock throbs at the praise, and so you wrap your fingers around it to give it the same amount of attention he’s currently giving you. Riddle grits his teeth at the contact.

“You can move your fingers. Don’t just focus on my clit.”

“Ah. Right. Of course,” he babbles dumbly, so swept up in everything that you are, so very eager to please.

You’re like a work of art pinned to his desk, a delicacy more forbidden than anything from the bakery. Sugary-sweet, adorned in skimpy ruche, you’re a temptation laid bare. Delicately, as if you might shatter, he curls his fingers to press up against your insides. Riddle watches you arch up towards him, your hand working his cock maddeningly slow and steady. It feels good—better than anything he could have ever imagined.

His eyes trail from your lips to your tits to your pussy stretched around his fingers. “Do you have any plans for this summer?”

The sudden question catches you off guard. You were expecting something related to sex, not whatever this new shred of curiosity is. Still, that doesn’t stop you from dragging him closer to the edge of ecstasy with every tug of your fist.

“Why?”

“I… I’d like to get to know you.”

“Me?”

“Of course. You’re more than a body to me.”

“How charming. I just—” You frown, unable to follow where he’s going with this. “Why?”

“Isn’t that obvious?” Even though he says it like it’s a fact, he looks shy. “I want to know you.”

“Uh… Yeah… Okay.”

“You don’t believe me?”

“Not that… It’s just hard to imagine you having any girl friends.”

Riddle rolls his eyes and grinds his thumb into your clit. You bite back a whine as his fingers pump in and out of you. “Is that space open or closed?”

“You know which one.”

“You could be the one to close it.”

You meet his eyes then. For a short minute, the two of you hold each other’s stare. And then, breaking free from his hypnotic hold, you squeeze his length gently. He shudders, his lashes fluttering against his cheeks.

“And what about you? You excited for your first year?”

“Mm, yeah,” he murmurs, rutting into your hand. His fingers spread you open, scissoring gently.

“Just make sure to take time for yourself. Have fun. Live.”

“What did you do?”

“What do you mean?”

“When you were at school—how’d you manage?”

“I never went.” He opens his mouth to interject, but you beat him to it. “Couldn’t afford it.”

“Oh…”

“It’s fine! I’ve got plenty of experience in other things. I don’t need school for that.”

Riddle doesn’t believe your feigned optimism for a second. “If you could’ve gone, what would you have studied?”

You release his cock from your hold and reach up to pull his glasses from his face. Gingerly, minding the fragile frames, you set them aside. You lift your index to your lips, effortlessly coy. “It’s a secret.”

Before he can protest, you tap the hand at your cunt next. Riddle’s fingers, wet and shiny, slide out with a slick squelch. “I think you can do it.”

“What?”

“Go to school and study what you want. I believe in you.”

A wooden laugh tumbles from your lips. “Thanks for the encouragement, mama’s boy.”

“I have a name, you know.”

You smile easily. “You want me to call you something else? How does ‘good boy’ sound?”

Even though he tries not to let it show, his cock betrays his reticence with a small twitch. He’s an open book. Not wanting to give you the satisfaction, he lines himself up instead. Your fingers slip down to spread yourself for him.

“S-Slowly…” you whisper, stumbling over your breath as the head of his cock presses inside. Shallow at first before more inches fill you.

Riddle heaves a shaky gasp, his eyes wide with amazement. “I… I’m inside you…”

“How’s it feel?” “Warm. Soft. Snug. R-Really good.” He bows his head and digs his fingers into your hips. You think he has a dozen more adjectives on the tip of his tongue, each one just as fluffy as the last. “D-Do you feel good? It doesn’t hurt?”

“I’m fine.” You wind your legs around his waist to pull him closer. Your hands come to rest upon his shoulders once more. “Move your hips.”

Riddle does just that. His pace is awkward and inexperienced, every motion unsteady and jerky, as he searches for the right rhythm. He falls into it surprisingly fast, and it isn’t long until he’s smoothly rutting into you. You grab at his shirt, your breath coming in reedy huffs.

“Good. You—haa—good. You’re doing good.” Praise pours from your lips like a waterfall, plentiful and refreshing. It invigorates him, fills him with a confidence that wasn’t there before.

The soft slap of skin on skin fills the room. You keep your voice in check, lest you lose yourself and alert Mrs. Rosehearts. Riddle seems to be doing the same, even though it’s obvious he’s struggling much more than you are. He worries his bottom lip between his teeth to suppress his groans.

“You can touch me,” you whisper, petting his cheek. He blinks at you, his face aflame with a bright blush.

Nervously, he reaches for you and then pauses. Contemplation passes over his features. “What feels better? I want you to—no. I will make sure you cum. I’ve studied it, actually. I know how long it takes.”

“Look at you, doing your research like a diligent student. You want extra credit?”

Riddle chuckles and pinches your clit between two fingers. The rest of your teasing tapers off into a lewd squeal. “What was that about extra credit?”

“You’re awfully bold for your first time.”

“I’m not clueless.” His hips press inwards, plastering you to the desk, and his cock brushes that special spot within—the spot that has you seeing stars, your every nerve tingling with pleasure. You choke around a delighted gasp. Riddle, feeling victorious,  places his hand against your stomach, as if searching to feel his cock thrust up inside you. “Will I see you again after this?”

“If your mother wants me to come back and give you another pointless lecture on celibacy and safe sex, sure.”

“No, not that. Outside of this.”

“Don’t you have friends you’d rather hang out with?”

“I…do.”

“So spend time with them.”

Riddle doesn’t dignify that with a retort. With the way his eyes gloss over, you wonder just how many of these friends are within physical distance. The conversation stalls out into silence.

“You’ll make lots of friends at school. So many you’ll probably forget all about me.”

Riddle yanks your hips to meet his, driving himself deeper into your pussy.

“A-And you’ll find a nice girl to love if you’re looking for that kinda thing.”

“I am,” he confesses, breathless. “I want to get married and—mmh—start a family one day… I want to study law—become a lawyer… Mother thinks medicine suits me, but I can’t agree. Law is fascinating. It’s a perfect fit for me. Far better than medicine.”

You drag your thumb over your mouth, wetting it with your lipgloss, and then press it to his lips. The indirect kiss sends a tidal wave of arousal over him, darkening the tips of his ears in striking vermillion. You offer him a gentle smile while he recovers from that devastating flirt.

“I’ll make sure to hire you as my lawyer if I ever get into legal trouble.”

“You’d better not!” He laughs and shakes his head in amused disbelief. “But if you do, I’ll be there for you. Always.”

“Thanks, Riddle.”

Maybe I judged him too harshly. He’s not so bad.

In that stuffy study, just as the late afternoon gives way to red-orange streaked across a purple-pink sky, Riddle fucks you against that desk in all manner of rhythms. It’s when he finally picks up speed that you realize he’s nearing his end. You mirror his enjoyment, strung along by titillating touches and whispered words drenched in sweetness. You’ve lost track of how many times you’ve reached rapture alongside him, your pussy now brimming with cum. There’s so much it leaks out of your slick hole when he draws away, only to burrow his cock deeper to stuff it back inside.

The room reeks of sweat and sex. You think, if not your disheveled appearance, the smell will definitely tell Mrs. Rosehearts all she needs to know.

“I love you,” Riddle murmurs, and you’re about to ask him what he means—maybe he’s caught up in the moment and doesn’t realize what he’s saying—but then he lifts your legs up to fold you into a mating press. Coherent thoughts are knocked out of your head when he spills over, filling you up for the nth time that day. You shiver beneath him, eyes rolled back into your skull and tongue lolling out. You feel so stupid, fucked submissive by some inexperienced, upper middle class mama’s boy. Which isn’t even an insult with real heat to it, but in your hazy mind it’s all you can think of to describe him.

He grinds against you in the aftermath, panting from the exhilaration and adrenaline. 

“We need to…open the window,” you mutter, your heart thumping wildly in your chest.

Riddle admires your fucked-out expression in his sex-drunk daze. He slides out just as he feels himself going flaccid. Cum drips onto the desk below. Briefly, you struggle to recall whether or not you took your birth control today.

Something to consider later. Definitely not right now when you’re still clinging to the vestiges of your orgasm.

— — —

Mrs. Rosehearts knocks on the door, opening it to find Riddle sitting at his desk, jotting notes and occasionally pushing his glasses up. You’re standing at the blackboard, writing a list of the consequences of unplanned pregnancies. The room smells pleasantly of roses.

“Pardon my intrusion.”

You gaze at her and smile, wearing the clothes you arrived in. Nothing’s amiss. It’s perfect—thankfully. “Welcome back, Mrs. Rosehearts. We’re just about finished here.”

“Is that right? I assume all went well?”

“Very well. Your son’s a fast learner. Extremely talented.”

“I would expect nothing less.” She withdraws an envelope and hands it to you. “Thank you again for explaining it in realistic terms. Of course I doubt that my Riddle will act senselessly while he’s away, but as his mother I’m prone to worrying. Boys his age are so easily influenced.”

“O-Of course! That’s a very valid concern.” You force a chuckle.

If only she knew.

“Your pay is in that envelope. Should I ever require your assistance again, I’ll be sure to call.”

“Right… Thank you.” You hold it close to your chest. “I’m happy to help.”

You follow her out the door. She pauses to address Riddle. “Do continue reviewing your notes. We’ll convene for dinner in thirty minutes.”

“Yes, Mother.”

Mrs. Rosehearts walks you to the gate. “I wish you luck in your studies. If I don’t see you again at the clinic, have a pleasant summer.”

“Thank you. You as well.” You smile, fidgeting slightly. A bead of sweat tracks a path down your leg from between cum-spattered thighs.

Finally! With this I can pay my rent and still have enough for a treat from the bakery.

It’s worth it, or so you continue to tell yourself.

— — —

From the window, Riddle watches you make the walk to your car. He lifts his phone to fit you in the camera and snaps a secret photo. He continues to watch you until you’ve driven off and turned the corner, disappearing from his sight.

A tiny smile tugs at his lips.

Within his phone, put under a password lock, a special photo album exists. It’s filled with pictures taken from your social media—all of them. Every. Single. One. He’s resourceful when he wants to be. He can play the parody of a tech genius when he sets his sights on something.

And you’re just perfect.

[garoujo]

✩ ˛˚ . 𝓨𝓞𝓤 𝓟𝓡𝓔𝓣𝓔𝓝𝓓 𝓣𝓞 𝓑𝓔 𝓐𝓢𝓛𝓔𝓔𝓟 𝓐𝓡𝓞𝓤𝓝𝓓 𝓣𝓗𝓔𝓜 & 𝓨𝓞𝓤𝓡 𝓒𝓗𝓘𝓛𝓓𝓡𝓔𝓝 feat. JUJUTSU KAISEN!

ஜ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ characters: gojo satoru, itadori yuuji, fushiguro megumi, nanami kento & geto suguru!

warnings! sfw, dad!au, all characters written age 22+, f!reader (they’re referred to as ‘mommy’) ♡ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ note! guys i literally found these hcs written & finished at the very bottom of my drafts so i’m posting idc, theyre v old & short so they may suck but pls accept my love!

✩ ˛˚ . GOJO SATORU

you hear him gossiping to your daughter who’s only a toddler when they return home, hearing her gasp dramatically at his words as they get closer. “sweet thi— oh?” gojo cuts himself off, followed by a few seconds of silence before you hear him whisper “hm, looks like mommy’s all tired out, princess. maybe we should just forget movie night and eat dessert before dinner.”

his words are goading and you try to hide the pout on your lips when they’re followed by a few of his heavy footsteps as he approaches you, like he’s trying to size you up for a reaction — looking for it as he pays careful attention to your features like he doesn’t have ever inch of you mapped out by memory.

it seems like an instant before they’re by the side of the couch, crouching down slightly to place a gentle kiss to your cheek, soft despite the way his lips linger on the skin as they move against you — enough for you to be able to feel the signature smirk you can only assume paints his pretty features right.

“really, sweet girl? i thought you knew me better than to pretend to be asleep.” gojo drawls and you almost jolt when he whips the blanket off of you with a gasp. “awake? all this time? princess i just don’t think they wanted to watch movies with us.” his tone laced with teasing as his lips curl into a smug grin — while you watch him turn to your daughter with a hand on his hip, yes you’re roped into it, not that you’re complaining.

✩ ˛˚ . ITADORI YUUJI

you hear their shared footsteps running up the hall as you quickly pull the blanket over your body, closing your eyes just as they burst through the door, closely followed by a gasp from your husband before you hear your son copy him — you always found it charming the way he truly seen him as his idol.

“oh no, mommy’s asleep so we gotta be quiet okay?” yuuji whisper shouts, a smaller voice piping up after with a just as excitable “bu’ you said we should never sleep with no goodnigh’ kiss.” your son tries to whisper back and you want to laugh at how loud they’re both talking while also trying to be quiet.

“you’re right! good job remembering!” you’re trying your best to bite back the smile you can feel twitch at your lips — the interaction making you feel warm in the best sort of way, but you hear them both begin to approach you before there’s a suspicious silence and you wonder if you’ve been caught.

“okay you go first then i’ll go!” you finally hear your husband say and you want to smile when you feel your sons lips press against your cheek before he pulls away again, whispering as he does “goodnigh’ mommy” followed by yuuji’s shortly after with a “goodnight baby.” hearing them leave after with a very quiet high five “wanna play a game now?”

✩ ˛˚ . NANAMI KENTO

you hear your husband’s chuckle as he returns home from picking up your daughter from school, your daughter rambling about what she learned before they enter the living room, noticing you asleep on the couch before nanami shushes her gently.

“how about you tell me all about it in the kitchen, princess? let’s let your mom rest.” he grumbles and it’s silent for a moment until you hear a cabinet close, feeling the familiar touch of your husbands lips on your skin when he leans down to place a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“sleep well, sweetheart.” nanami breathes, calloused thumb smoothing over your cheek soothingly incase he woke you, but allowing your daughter to kiss the same place he did before she’s copying her dads movements and tracing over the same spot with her smaller hand.

“that’s it, good job, princess. you want to help daddy make them some tea?” he grumbles, followed by a whispered “yes” before they move quietly to the kitchen.

✩ ˛˚ . FUSHIGURO MEGUMI

it’s quiet when you hear megumi and your daughter return home from school, her smaller hand still wrapped in his bigger one as he carries her pink bag pack over his shoulder with a pout on his lips (he knows he spoils her).

but as soon as they meet your figure draped so dreamily on the couch, pretending to be asleep — all sound dies down before you’re only met with light shuffling, the noise accompanied by the feeling of a soft blanket being draped over you a few moments later.

“like this.” megumi whispers, tucking it underneath you gently, he’s being careful not to wake you and you can’t deny the way it makes your heart swell. but not as much as it does when you feel the same movements on the other side — except by a smaller pair of hands this time and you can almost imagine the soft, proud smile on his face with the little. “is mommy warm now?”

your daughter tries to whisper, the sound comes out a little louder than intended, but you don’t mind when you hear your husband huff out a laugh after. “almost.” megumi hums, silence following his words before you feel him rest his lips along your forehead a few moments later with a soft breath. “there, perfect.”

✩ ˛˚ . GETO SUGURU

you hear the gentle of hum of geto’s soft laugh as he returns home with your daughter after the school run, both of their shared footsteps shuffling down the hallway as you work to quickly make yourself look comfortable on the couch. you lie back, pulling the blankets up to your chin just a few moments before their careful steps stop in the doorway, followed by a gentle shhh from your dark haired boyfriend as you hear them both fall silent.

“is mommy sleeping?” your daughter asks before it’s followed by a set of heavy steps—confirming that’s it’s exactly who you think it is when you sense his presence squat down at the side of the couch as his dark eyes probably settle on your features.

“seems that way.” geto grunts and you give it a few moments, hoping he hasn’t picked up on your little act before you feel his fingertips brush along your cheek, followed by a sigh before he’s falling into his place beside you softly. he moves you carefully until you’re pressed in his lap and you feel his other arm raise as your daughter asks “what’re you doing?” despite the way she approaches anyway.

“hm? i think i should get to cuddle with my favourite girls. cmeer.” and you think maybe you should keep up your little act a while longer as you nuzzle yourself into his chest with a content sigh when his lips press softly against your temple. but then he speaks against your skin and you can’t help the way you have to bite back a grin. “you really think you can trick me, pretty girl? i thought you knew me better than that.”

© 2023 GAROUJO. please do not copy any of my layouts or writing and translate or repost onto any other sites.

[touyas-multi-purpose-saline]

DAY XII. — HAND HOLDING (DURING THE ACT)

cw: Fluff, Romantic Talk, Hand Holding, Cunnilingus, Aged-Up / Pro-Hero Time Skip, Fem! Reader. 18+ Only!

author's note: It was so interesting writing Deku. He's so cute but he's still an anxious dweeb who struggles to talk to girls. Enjoy!

word count: Approximately 1.2k words.

“Um, okay. I’m not sure if—well, it’s just, I’ve never done anything like this before so I don’t know if I’ll be able to perform at the kind of standard you might be expecting, which—”

“Izuku.” 

Izuku pauses, the brows of his face pinched together and his pretty emerald eyes wide. They’re glossy with emotion, shiny underneath the dim lighting of your bedroom. His head rests in between your thighs, hands curled around the swell of your knees, fingers pinching into your skin. The way he looks at you makes you pause, but you just amend your surprise with a half moon of a smile. 

“It’s okay, really. I don’t expect you to be an expert at this. I mean, I’m sure I wouldn’t be good going down on you either.” 

A distinct little yelp squeaks in the back of Izuku’s throat before he quickly flings his gaze off to the side, red flames igniting and powdering across his face while he stammers a response. 

“Ha ha! W-Well, you’re great at everything you do, or, you have been, so I’m sure you’d do great if you, uh, did g-go down on m-me. B-But we’re not talking about me right now! I’m just trying to make sure that you’re comfortable with this, and that—” 

“Izuku.” 

Once again, his teeth snap shut, and his eyes meet yours. 

“Don’t think about it too much. Just do what your gut tells you. I know it’ll feel good, don’t sweat it.” 

Izuku gulps, but he nods, determined. His face shifts a little, and his body wiggles along with it. He tries to press himself further in between your legs, squeezing your knees before he starts to push them down so he can accurately lower his face to the meadows of your cunt. Izuku’s determination fades a little, cracks of doubt breaking through his facade before he swallows and scrunches his brow ridge. You stare at him fondly, content with observing him build up the courage to swoop forward and claim what already belongs to him. His locks sway along his forehead, full and curly, and they tickle your thighs with Izuku’s every subtle movement. One of your hands reaches for him, tapping his head in a wave gently before you start to pet him. Izuku jumps, quickly glancing at you before he blinks and looks down again. 

“J-Just tell me if you don’t like this and want me to stop. I’ll…” 

Izuku doesn’t finish his sentence. Instead, he finally bows his head until his hot breath fans against the meaty lips of your cunt. Another swallow, but Izuku doesn’t keep you waiting any longer. He’s delicate and ginger whenever he connects your lips, his mouth is soft and warm, and you moan quietly at the sensation that unfolds beneath him. It’s lightning, but it’s slow, it’s nothing real. Fire, but it’s dull, but toasty enough to feel like ice thawing from your body. The feelings start to weigh down on you, and your head collapses onto the pillow within a mere second of Izuku’s mouth against your cunt. 

The fingers in his hair braid themselves, a shallow sort of attempt to ground yourself. Izuku pauses for a split second, probably listening for any signs of discomfort, but resumes once another moan floats from your chest. His mouth parts, and his tongue pokes out like a snake hidden within tall stalks of gross to lay a thin stripe over the seam of your cunt. You feel like you’re spinning on a carousel, faster and faster, and your thighs clench once Izuku’s tongue prods against your clit. It’s hard, heavy, and thumping, eager to be touched and Izuku decidedly flicks it a few times. You groan each time, encouraging Izuku to tilt his head to the side so that he could suction his mouth against your clit. Both of your eyes roll back into your head, scattering like bowling pins smacked in the center, and a moan that’s way too loud escapes you whenever Izuku starts to suck and tug your clit. 

“W-What was that you were saying about not being good? Ahhh, haa, oh, Izuku, that feels so so sooo good. Don’t stop, don’t stop!” 

Your praise spurns Izuku on, and he starts to work his jaw in miniscule circles to lap at your clit and play it over his tongue like a meal, like food he wanted to savor, like a broth and soup that spreads love and health throughout his chest. You wondered what Izuku was thinking, you wondered if he was really enjoying this, but an ear-splitting slurp made your head dizzy and all thoughts flew out of your mind. 

His belly is flat to the bed, but you can feel him start to crunch up, can feel whenever he starts to gyrate his hips. Izuku’s moving in a way that slides you further towards him, your knees are growing closer to your head by the moment, and his face dives deeper. His groans vibrate your body, too, and his chin is parting your cunt down the middle. Glaze is slick down your flesh, but Izuku just bobs and weaves his head, smearing you wet, like he’s gone. 

“Like that! Yeah, ohhh, yes, yes.” 

Izuku nods to the best of his ability, and you’re left gritting your teeth and groaning. You wonder if he’s asked how to do this or if he’s researched it himself because, fuck, he’s so good, but that thought is fleeting and all you can imagine is teasing him after this is over by returning the favor. Because he’s eating you out like he’s mad with a fever, like you’re cetirizine. Maybe he’s listened to you gush one too many times—and that idea flatters you so badly, it makes you feel special to think someone is that dedicated to making you feel like this. 

And whenever one of Izuku’s hands leaves your thigh, trailing down, leaving storms and electricity in his wake, you nearly gasp and cry out his name whenever he finds your free palm and taps it gently. You flex, trying to process everything, trying to focus on anything all at once but finding each feeling overlapping and overwhelming. Izuku traces his fingers up before he laces them between the gaps of yours, curling down over your knuckles and squeezing. Tears spring to your eyes, fresh and new, and you start to pant, chanting Izuku’s name with every molecule of air you sip through. 

You can feel this burning, this reality that is starting to compress the rims of your belly. It’s down, but then it’s shivering and shuddering throughout your thighs all the way down to your stretching toes. But then it’s up, making your shoulder recoil and your chest bounce like a gunshot. 

Izuku’s hand is in yours, and yours is in his. You return his hold, losing yourself to the intimacy of him, of Izuku, of your lover, of your pleasure. His mouth seems to suck you in, through a drain and tumbling into the rabbit hole, and you’re crying before you can catch yourself. It’s getting to be too much, the way you seem to slowly implode, and your back arches before Izuku’s name is your death rattle.

And you squeeze again, hands intertwined, and Izuku holds you all the way through your orgasm. 

[fkinkindagauche]

Wild God

This is for day 20 of @steddie-spooktober, "cryptid" as well as @strangerthingswritersguild Kinktober prompt "worship". I fell asleep before I could finish it last night, so it is a day late on both! If you haven't listened to Nick Cave's new album, Wild God, yet, you should. The album is not actually about monsterfucking, but I like to think he really wouldn't mind the title being co-opted for that.

Summary: Mothman is in the woods of Hawkins and he's apparently a really good lay.

Rating: Explicit | WC: 2,229 | Tags: Anal Sex, Rimming, Monster Eddie Munson, Monsterfucker Steve Harrington, Blood, Biting, Unsafe Sex with Cryptids, Prehensile Tongues

Steve has become increasingly obsessed with the creature in the woods. Lucas says it's Mothman, who came to Indiana from West Virginia (“he has wings, you know”), while Dustin claims it’s just a weird sandhill crane. 

Steve doesn’t tell Dustin and Lucas what he knows, from overhearing a discussion at a party a few weeks before. He’d been pouring himself a drink in the kitchen when two girls came in, excitedly whispering to each other, not noticing Steve was there. 

“And it was so big,” one of the girls whispers. “I’ve never seen a cock that size before. It felt amazing.”

“You’re joking, right?” the other girl says, incredulous. “You didn’t actually fuck a random monster in the woods.”

“I swear, I did,” the first girl says, looking annoyed at not being believed. “Mary did, too, ask her.”

“Mary also said she fucked Justin Bieber. That’s not exactly helping your case.”

“If you don’t believe me, go try it yourself. If you spend the night out by Skull Rock, he’ll come.” She suggestively waggles her eyebrows. “In more ways than one.” 

Steve doesn’t really know why, but his interest is piqued. He asks around over the next few weeks, and finds out more. It’s apparently become a bit of a thing with the people around his age in Hawkins. The girls are calling the creature the Wild God, saying they’re going into the woods to worship, and the boys mostly seem to think the girls are all making it up to piss them off.

He talks to three separate groups of girls who tell him similar versions of the same story - they went to Skull Rock to camp, and around midnight, the creature approached, standing at the edge of the camp. He’s been described to Steve as anywhere from seven to ten feet tall, with wings, red eyes, and a huge cock. All you have to do is walk up to him and say, “I’m yours for the night,” and, if the girls are to be believed, you’ll have the best sex of your life. 

Steve, who has become increasingly bored with the girls of Hawkins, his sex life more of a slog than it is enjoyable, finds himself wondering what it would be like, to be fucked. He’s never experimented with men before, even though he has had thoughts. He especially wonders what it would be like to be fucked by a wild god. 

He makes Robin tell him everything he needs to know to spend a night in the woods, refusing to tell her why he needs to know. He goes to other sources (a sex shop in downtown Indy) to find out what he needs to know about what else he hopes will happen. He purchases varying sizes of dildos ranging from beginner to gigantic at the sex shop, and purchases a tent at a more respectable establishment. He spends a few weeks getting used to the feeling of his fingers, and then the dildos, inside of him. He likes it, almost more than he likes having his own dick buried inside someone. 

Once he’s graduated to the largest dildo, he decides to give his plan a try on one night in late October. He reaches Skull Rock around 10pm, with the moon high and full in the sky. He sets up his tent, starts a small fire, and settles in, prepared to wait as long as he needs. He can be patient. One hour passes, then two. He hears the sounds of the forest at night around him, small animals and insects going about their business, rustling and chirping. 

Just as he worries he may be about to nod off, he hears something larger moving through the undergrowth. His eyes scan the forest around him, the moon shedding plenty of light on the scene as a large shape comes into focus. It’s taller than a man, but not by too much, with the shape of unfurled wings making a shadow against the light of the moon. Steve can see two red orbs glowing in the dark - eyes. 

The creature stops about twenty feet from Steve, eyes pointed directly at him where he sits by his fire. It moves closer after a few moments, and the closer it comes to Steve, the more he can see in the light of the moon.

It’s mostly humanoid, but covered in a thin layer of fur, with large wings extending from its shoulders. The figure wears no clothes, and Steve’s eyes take in the size of the cock between its legs, which had not been exaggerated by the girls, before being drawn back up to its head, surrounded by a halo of unruly, long dark hair. 

The creature approaches closer, reaching a clawed hand out toward Steve. Steve studies its face, feeling a gentle thrum of something like recognition. Large, dark eyes, now with a distinct red tint, full lips, frizzy mane of hair, lines at the side of the mouth where dimples would be if it smiled. 

“Eddie?” Steve says, shock in his voice. It can’t be Eddie. He died five months ago.

The creature tilts his head to the side, confusion apparent on his face. The more Steve sees, the more he knows in his core that this is Eddie in front of him, changed almost beyond recognition. 

“Do you remember me?” Steve asks, as Eddie reaches out one clawed finger and strokes down his cheek.

Eddie doesn’t respond, just keeps looking at Steve, eyes hungry. Maybe he can’t even speak anymore. Steve remembers why he’s here, eyes tracking down to where Eddie’s cock rests between his legs. He would be lying to himself if he said he hadn’t been attracted to Eddie even before he got turned into a monster with a giant cock.

Steve takes a deep breath and says, “I’m yours for the night.” He wants to worship at the feet of the Wild God, especially since that god just happens to be Eddie Munson. 

Eddie makes a noise which Steve can only describe as a growl, then leans forward to press his mouth to Steve’s. Calling what ensues a kiss would be a mischaracterization. Eddie plunders Steve’s mouth, all sharp teeth and inhumanly long tongue. Steve tastes blood from where one of Eddie’s incisors has nicked his bottom lip. He moans into Eddie’s mouth as Eddie licks into him, mapping the inside of Steve’s mouth with his tongue. 

One of Eddie’s now huge arms wraps around Steve, pulling him flush against his body. Steve can feel Eddie’s cock growing hard where it’s pressed against his hip, so warm even through his jeans that Steve is worried it will burn his bare skin. He feels one of Eddie’s legs slot between his own, and starts to rut down onto it, his own cock so hard it’s almost painful. 

Eddie’s mouth moves to Steve’s neck, biting and licking, no doubt leaving ample marks which will be hard to explain to anyone who sees them. His clawed hands bunch in Steve’s sweater, pausing for a moment before tearing. Tatters of fabric fall from his body and he shivers as his skin is exposed to the cold. 

Eddie unfurls his massive wings, wrapping them around Steve, effectively blocking out the cold. It’s warm in this protected little alcove in the woods as Eddie moves his clawed hands to Steve’s jeans. 

“Wait,” Steve says, and Eddie pauses, red eyes inquisitive. “These jeans are expensive,” Steve explains, not sure Eddie understands him at all, but taking advantage of the pause to remove his jeans and boxers so they don’t also end up in tatters on the forest floor. 

As soon as he’s naked, Eddie starts to back him toward the fire, wings returning to their furled station on his back and clawed hands encircling Steve’s waist as he picks him up like Steve is a small child and not a fully grown man. He lays Steve on the ground beside the fire and blankets himself over him so Steve doesn’t even have a chance to be cold. 

Eddie starts to kiss and bite down Steve’s body, briefly nuzzling Steve’s straining cock before licking the whole length of it. His tongue is way longer than it should be, and seemingly prehensile, wrapping around Steve’s cock almost like a snake and gently stroking him. Steve moans loudly, bucking his hips up and grabbing handfuls of Eddie’s tangled, matted hair. 

Eddie moves further down, licking over Steve’s balls and grabbing his hips, pulling them up to get access to Steve’s hole. His tongue plunges easily inside of Steve, who opened himself up using his largest dildo right before setting out on this trip. The tongue presses and curls inside of him, seeking blindly until it finds that spot that makes Steve scream. 

Steve thrusts himself up into Eddie’s face, fucking himself on that absolutely earth-shattering tongue. Eddie continues to press perfectly into his prostate and Steve feels an unbearable pleasure start to build in his lower abdomen. He reaches down for his own cock and starts to stroke. It only takes two pumps before he’s coming all over his belly and chest, moaning and writhing on Eddie’s tongue.

Eddie keeps tongue-fucking him until the overstimulation becomes unbearable and Steve tugs on his hair. Eddie moves his face up, red eyes locking onto Steve's as he leans down and bites Steve’s hip, hard enough to break the skin. Steve groans and feels his cock twitching with the intense pleasure-pain of the sensation, Eddie’s tongue coming out to lick up the blood. 

Eddie moves up his body, kissing and licking and biting as he goes, until he’s face to face with Steve once again. Steve can feel Eddie’s hard cock pressing against his hip, huge and very wet. He reaches down and grabs hold, stroking. There’s an ample amount of a viscous fluid coating Eddie’s cock now, as if he can make his own lubricant. 

Eddie shudders as Steve strokes him, bending to lick into Steve’s mouth once again as Steve shifts to position the head of Eddie’s cock at his entrance. Eddie moves slowly, pressing his hips forward gently as he breaches Steve, stretching him. Eddie’s cock is about the size of the largest dildo he bought, a dildo he had been sure would be much larger than any actual cock he would ever take. 

The extensive prep that Steve did earlier, along with Eddie’s natural lubricant, are the only reasons it’s even physically possible for his body to accommodate Eddie. He sinks in slowly, giving Steve ample time to adjust, the care with which he moves belying his monstrous appearance. He pulls back to stare at Steve, gaze intense and more human than it has been this whole time, the red fading a little from his eyes as he finally bottoms out. 

Steve feels gloriously full and claimed, in a way he hadn’t anticipated. He presses a hand to his belly and he can feel where Eddie’s cock makes a palpable bulge. Inside, it presses into his prostate, and as Eddie starts to move Steve can feel his cock miraculously hardening again, almost immediately after his first orgasm.

Steve lets out a constant stream of wanton groans and pants as Eddie starts fucking into him in earnest, clawed hands braced on either side of Steve’s head as he pounds Steve into the forest floor. Steve meets each of his thrusts with his own, bucking up into Eddie as much as he’s able. 

Every brush of Eddie’s cock against his prostate builds inside of Steve until he feels like he’s going to explode. As Eddie bends his head to one of Steve’s pecs and bites down hard, Steve feels a second orgasm tear through his body, cock spurting a miniscule amount of cum onto his stomach as his whole body clenches around Eddie.

Eddie lets out a noise that can only be characterized as a roar and Steve starts to feel a warmth spreading inside himself as Eddie thrusts as deep into his ass as he can go and comes. It lasts a long time, longer than Steve ever thought an orgasm could last, and he feels excess cum dribbling out of his ass around Eddie’s cock. 

Eddie collapses against him, panting heavily, wings coming out to form a protective barrier around the two of them. Steve can feel Eddie’s cock starting to soften inside of his ass, and eventually it softens enough to slip out, a gush of cum following to coat the tops of Steve’s thighs. 

Eddie pushes himself up a little, looking down at Steve. The red of his eyes is more muted now, the color closer to the brown Steve was used to seeing. Steve reaches a hand up to cup one of Eddie’s cheeks.

“Can I come back to see you again tomorrow?” Steve asks.

“Yes,” Eddie says, voice gravelly with disuse and much deeper than it had been before. “Please.”

Steve smiles, elated at this evidence that Eddie is still in there somewhere, able to understand and respond. Then Steve remembers how he even found out about Eddie, and his face crumples into a frown.

“And stop fucking other girls. You’re my monster now,” Steve says, glaring.

“Okay, Stevie,” Eddie says, as he moves down Steve’s body to start thoroughly cleaning up the mess with his tongue.

Divider by @steddiecameraroll-graphics.

[5sospenguinqueen]

Tantrums | Lewis Hamilton x Reader

Summary: After 10 years together, Lewis keeps pushing back the date on when “forever” can start. Realising that forever applies to her job and not their relationship, she makes it clear that she’s had enough. 

Warnings: slight age gap, reader is 32. angst, heavy on the angst. 

Requested: @madelynn-sienna (sorry it took so long. i didn’t think i was gonna do it ngl to you because i don’t really write for lewis)

F1 Masterlist

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yn_ln just posted

liked by carmenmmundt, alexandrasaintmleux and others

yn_ln when he feels bad that he’s on the other side of the world for your birthday 

4,444 comments

lewishamilton happy birthday, love. i’m so sorry i’m in australia and not with you but i promise i will make it up to you when i’m home. roscoe promised me he’d spend the day spoiling you 

→ roscoelovescoco yes i’s did’s 

user1 oh to be loved the way yn is loved by lewis 

user2 no one makes me feel as single as lewis and yn do 

carmenmmundt @/georgerussell63 take notes

→ yn_ln you tell him, hun

→ georgerussell63 i buy you flowers all the time! 

f1 we’re sorry that a race fell on your birthday. we’ll ask the fia to fix the calendar next year so this doesn’t happen again

mercedesamgf1 we’d give him back if we could. happy birthday, yn

georgerussell63 hang on a second. you’ve not left us yet. that’s not the right car

→ charles_leclerc that’s the perfect car 

→ yn_ln i didn’t buy the car. i just jumped behind the wheel

user3 not me hoping she’d be getting a ring for her birthday 

→ user4 we’ve been waiting for this for the past 8 birthdays

→ user5 it’s been 10 years. we were expecting two rings and a few kids by now

→ user6 i mean, he just bought her a sports car. not very kid friendly 

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lewishamilton just posted

liked by francolapinto, sebastianvettel and others 

lewishamilton happy 10 years to the love of my life. every moment with you is an adventure i never want to end

9,448 comments

yn_ln forever with you ❤️ mainly because i can’t be bothered to train some new guy to photos that good of me

mercedesamgf1 can’t believe it’s been 10 years already. it feels like only yesterday yn was making her paddock debut. here’s to another 10 

→ user7 not mercedes commenting like they’re a part of this relationship 

→ user8 well he’s been with yn almost as long as he’s been with mercedes so they practically are at this point 

user9 my favourite f1 couple

user10 i love their rich money vibes

roscoelovescoco happy’s anniversary’s mum and’s dad 

→ yn_ln my precious boy 

→ user11 now she needs a real baby 

danielriccairdo i can’t believe she’s managed to put up with you for ten years 😂 huge love to you both

→ yn_ln ngl, it’s been tough

→ lewishamilton i’m taking the ferrari back 

user12 wedding and baby when? 

georgerussell63 happy 10 year anniversary. yn is my favourite part of you being my teammate 

→ carmenmmundt can we keep her when you go to ferrari?

→ charles_leclerc no. it’s my turn now 

→ lewishamilton i think you’re all forgetting that she’s mine 

mercedesamgf1 just posted

liked by georgerussell63, kimi.antonelli and others 

mercedesamgf1 GET IN THERE, LEWIS 🏆🥇 LEWIS HAMILTON IS YOUR BRITISH GRAND PRIX WINNER 

23,441 comments

yn_ln my love. i honestly have not stopped crying since you crossed that line. i’m so proud of you. you deserved this and proved to everyone why you’re a motorsport legend

→ lewishamilton couldn't do it without your support 🩷

→ mercedesamgf1 it’s true. the mechanics were uncomfortable when they realised they couldn't just keep giving her tissues

georgerussell63 you deserve it, mate

valterribottas well done champ

user1 can’t believe he won silverstone the same weekend he celebrated 10 years with yn 

→ user2 she’s always been his good luck charm. he performs so well when she’s watching

→ user3 they’re the dream team together 

user4 the fact that yn is the only one he responded to

user5 she’s getting it good tonight

skysportsf1 posted a new interview

user6 oh no, lewis…

user7 lewis, she was asking what was next for you and yn, relationship wise

user8 oh, that’s not quite

user9 i hope yn doesn’t see this otherwise i fear lewis might be in the doghouse tonight 

→ user10 i hope she does see it so that she knows he’s not thinking of her future in the same way 

user11 i always thought lewis loved yn as much as yn loved lewis but now i’m not sure

user12 it’s the fact that the poor interviewer looked upset at his answer as well. like she hoped for better

→ user13 we all hoped for better 

user14 it’s the fact that she’s always talked about wanting kids and getting married but has always said they’re waiting until lewis is ready

→ user15 the fact that every year passes and he never indicates that he’s ready for any of it though 

replies to @/F1Wags

user1 lewis still follows yn

→ user2 and still has all of his photos up, including their anniversary post 

→ user1 i’m hoping this means he’s in denial and is still trying to win her back

user3 i can’t believe this is real. she went all the way back and deleted everything related to him in 10 years. even edited posts to delete slides he was in

→ user4 dedicated queen

user5 just fell to my knees in walmart

user6 i’m devastated but i also hope this means she finds a man who will be prepared to give her the life she wants 

→ user7 well, more fool her for staying this long

→ user6 not really. ever think she wanted those things because she wanted them with lewis

→ user8 don’t break my heart like this please  

replies to @/WeDon'tThink

user9 okay but your pen was on fire when you wrote that 

user10 he literally had the best weekend of his life with a 10yr anniversary, winning silverstone and then clearly messed it all up somehow in the end 

user11 if sir lewis hamilton can’t even do right, what hope do the rest of us have in finding a decent man

→ user12 no because they looked just as in love as they did 10 years ago and he still fumbled

user13 i saw rumours it was because he gave her an ultimatum and she didn’t take the path he wanted 

→ user14 what do you mean?

→ user13 apparently “close sources” said that he told her if she wanted kids, she couldn't have him and so she left 

→ user14 wtf!!! good on her for dumping his ass

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calvinklein and yn_ln just posted

liked by nicorosberg, fernandoalo_official and others 

calvinklein @/yn_ln is stunning in calvin klein underwear. shop the collection now 

5,533 comments

yn_ln oh okay. i look goooood 

→ alexandrasaintmleux i would let you take me home

→ carmenmmundt me too

→ georgerussell63 excuse me, i don’t agree with this

user1 aha, nico we see you 

→ user2 and fernando

landonorris oh so he fumbled bad 

→ oscarpiastri they’re going to take your social media off you again

user3 is this her version of a revenge dress?

→ user4 more like undress

user5 not sure why you wouldn’t want to marry and give a baby to a woman like that 

→ user6 okay, ew

user7 can we appreciate how she’s handled this with class. instead of speaking out against lewis, she’s been booked and busy and flitting about europe on modelling jobs 

→ user8 just further proof that he managed to lose the best woman ever 

roscoelovescoco you’s look’s nice, mum

→ user9 i know lewis hires someone to run this account but what are the odds that he’s actually behind it now so he can stalk yn 

yn_ln please can we all focus on the clothes and support how hot i look by buying some! 

→ danielricciardo don’t even have tits but you convinced me to buy a bra

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lewishamilton just posted

liked by valterribottas, scuderiaferrari and others 

lewishamilton mixed feelings about today. obviously happy for a win but very disappointing for george and the team missing out on a 1-2

7,744 comments

georgerussell63 we put up a good fight today

user1 not really a deserved win though, is it

user2 you fumbled yn and now you’re fumbling wins. you only got this because merc screwed over george 

roscoelovescoco well’s done’s dad

user3 see what happens when you play a good woman, you get a dirty win

user4 man needs to act his age. can’t believe at the grand age of 39, he strung along a girl who loved him more than anything for 10 years

→ user5 destroyed my faith in men for real 

user6 robbed a win from george like you robbed 10 years from yn 

(comments on this post have been limited)

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I wrote this out and was really proud of it and then when I was adding the other driver’s versions on, I realised it was the same principal as Daniel’s so I’m so sorry for the repeated plot

Baby Fever Angst Masterlist

requests are open