#Im going to do something once i finish it

[azullumi]

BUT I’M INTO YOU !! ft. ANAXAGORAS & PHAINON

like paramore’s hit song, “still into you”, some things just make sense and one of those is you and him | gender-neutral reader, established relationship, reassurance, anaxa nurses reader, relationship dynamics (phainon with a constantly stressed and overthinking reader), fluff, not proofread | wc: 3.2k

DIRECTOR NOTES — i need anaxa so bad im going to go crazy

anaxa and the reversed “how are you two not dating yet?”, so it’s just “WHY ARE YOU DATING HIM?”

Some people are just born soulmates, complete halves of each other; the edges of their being meant to fit one another. ANAXAGORAS and you are what you like to believe to be the embodiment of that—two flames from the same fire, burning brighter when together.

“Must you really be troublesome?” His voice echoes, concern written on his often stoic his face as he places the back of his hand against your forehead for a moment. His fleeting touch is cool against your warm skin, a quiet contrast that makes you lean into it instinctively. He exhales softly, almost inaudibly, before retrieving his hand.

“Must you be so handsome?” You beam at him, despite how sickly you look and how your voice is rough and hoarse. The frown he gives you makes you laugh—then choke and cough afterwards. He clicks his tongue, not unkindly, giving you the glass of water then dabbing at your lips with the edge of the towel when you finish, muttering something about how recklessness must be a disease. Still, even with the irritation painted across his face, his hands are careful, his touch gentle. And you feel it again: that unwavering, bone-deep certainty that you were always meant to be right here, with him.

“You’re fussing too much,” you murmur, voice still scratchy, but your smile is unshaken. You let him do what he needs to do for yourself, lest you concur his wrath and get a mile of scolding about your carelessness from him. You don’t want to hear it anymore. He had already talked your ears off when he had arrived and saw that you weren’t resting just like he had wanted you to do.

“You’re ill,” he replies flatly, squeezing the excess water from the towel before folding it anew, placing it over your forehead. “Forgive me for wanting to keep you alive.”

“I’m not dying, Anaxagoras.”

No. If you perished from something as banal as fever, it would be after he’d dragged you back to lucidity and made sure you remembered it was his hand that spared you. And not just once. He’d remind you daily and without shame, that it was he who nursed you through your recklessness, he who kept you from slipping away over something as embarrassingly preventable as he’d once put it; “Next time you have decided to tempt mortality, at least wear a coat.” 

(It was undeniable, however, that underneath all that pride and sharpness, Anaxagoras loves you in the only way he knows how: deeply, deliberately, and with a care that clings to the edges of everything he does for you.)

“And? Shall you be on the deathbed before I begin taking care of you?”

In a world full of almosts and maybes, you and him are the rare certainty—a quiet, unwavering truth as if the stars themselves whispered your names in the same breath long before you ever crossed paths. 

However, others seem to oppose these ideas.

Such as your friend, your dearly beloved Stelle, who finds fascination in trash cans. Over the duration of your friendship—which is roughly from when you saved her when she got her ass stuck in a bin to this very moment and onwards—, you’ve found that embarrassment does not exist in her vocabulary. 

You’ve recalled your conversation with her a few days ago, when she had asked you to: “Blink twice if you need help.” to which was met with just your confusion. You remember the dramatic groan that escaped her—loud, theatrical, and full of despair—as she clutched your shoulders like she’s anchoring herself from being swept away by the tragedy that is your love life. You remember her eyes and how they lock onto yours with the intensity of someone who’s seen too much, recounting horrors no one else can understand, and the rare seriousness painted across her usually unserious face. All of that just to present the grand question that has been repeatedly hammered into your ear drums: “Why are you dating him?”

Was it really unbelievable that you are dating THE Anaxagoras—the demised scholar, the known blasphemer, one of the Seven Sages, and founder of the School of Nousporists?

Stelle’s question then had come out in a raised tone; horror, confusion, and everything that reeks of despair and doubt. She has met your lover many times before and all she got is terrible impressions from him. You get it, you understand her, truly, a hundred million times over. Anaxagoras is difficult in the same way a cryptic crossword or a sudoku puzzle with only five numbers given as clues is difficult; he is maddening, frustrating, and devilishly handsome. Well, that too, and how he often causes people to mutter curses under their breath. He talks as if every word of his is carved from marble and gold and thinks in layers you often need to chisel through.

Although, Stelle was not the first person to express her concerns. No, no, she was not the only one who had questioned you about your romantic ties with the man himself. There had been a long line of them—colleagues, acquaintances, old friends who hadn’t seen you since the two of you got together—each of them offering their unsolicited takes like critics reviewing a painting they couldn’t comprehend. Some were subtle, expressing their skepticism through light jokes or half-serious jabs, dressing their doubts with honeyed laughter, and the repeated statements of “Really?” or “Wow, I could never… believe that.” While others were more direct, eyebrows raised, voices dripping with disbelief. “Him?” they’d ask, like you just dropped the most terrible news in their lives ever.

“How are you feeling now?” Anaxagoras’ voice snapped you out of your daze. You had not noticed you have been staring at him for a while now, recalling the conversation in your head like a script you’ve read a thousand times. You blink, reality trickling back in with the weight of his gaze. It is steady, unreadable, but undeniably attentive, only for you.

“Better,” you rasp, offering him a weak smile, “or at least I will be, once you stop hovering like a mother hen.” He doesn’t react at first, only lifts a brow as he shifts the damp towel slightly to sit more evenly across your forehead.

“Then I suppose you won’t be feeling better anytime soon."

It’s not that they don’t like Anaxagoras—they just don’t know him, not in the way you do, at least. They see the storm but not the calm it leaves behind when it reaches you. They hear the sharpness in his voice but never the softness interlacing between the syllables when he says your name. They witness the way he dismantles arguments with precision but never the way he carefully tucks your hair behind your ear when the wind picks up or remembers exactly how you take your tea without ever needing to ask. 

What none of them seemed to grasp was the way Anaxagoras, for all his cold logic and biting words, treated you as if you were something priceless. Something fragile and worth protecting. You know it, because even with his sharp mind and sharper tongue, he’s gentle with you.

Gentle in this, in him dropping everything that he needed to do just to take care of you, like the world could wait if you so much as whimpered. Gentle in the way he holds your hand, gentle in the way his thumb traces idle circles against your skin like he’s memorizing the heat of it. Gentle in the way his silence filled the room, soft and reassuring. It’s in the quiet moments where he simply exists beside you. You’ve known that the way he shows his affection and adoration for you is not loud, and never will be. It is neither grand nor showy, but it is steady and grounding, and it is yours.

(Anaxa didn’t need to say he loved you for his affections were in every quiet action, in every unspoken gesture that threaded through the ordinary like gold in cloth.)

“What are you thinking now?” Anaxa says, noticing your gaze.

His voice is calm, unhurried, yet carries the weight of someone who’s always listening, even to the things you don’t say. You blink up at him, the corners of your mouth curving, and for a moment, you hesitate. Not because you don’t know what to say, but because putting feelings this big into words feels like trying to catch the sky in your hands.

“That I must’ve done something good in a past life,” you say softly, “to be loved like this.”

Anaxagoras doesn’t speak, but you catch the way his expression shifts. It is the ever-subtle change in his eyes, softer now, like moonlight breaking through cold marble. He doesn’t smile, but there’s something in the way he looks at you that feels louder than joy.

“I don’t love you because of merit,” he murmurs, adjusting the edge of the blanket with care. “You don’t need to earn something that already belongs to you.”

They only saw the philosopher, the blasphemer, the myth himself, while you saw the man who kissed your knuckles when you couldn’t sleep. And something about this feels almost holy, the kindness reserved only for you is sacred, untouched by the noise of the world and tucked safely in the quiet corners of your world. It’s in the way he holds your gaze like it’s the only truth worth believing, in how he tends to your needs before you voice them, as if your comfort is a principle written into his very being. 

To others, he is a riddle wrapped in cold intellect, but to you, he is all the warmth embodies, the tender affection that weaves into the gaps of your fingers, the gentle lull of a tide as it crashes into the shore, and the stains on his cheek when you kiss him; he is the quiet devotion in the spaces between his sighs and your laughs—it is simply, completely, and utterly undeniable that the both of you are truly for one another.

phainon, a laid back guy who takes care of everything, and you, a dramatic person who stresses out a lot.

They say opposites attract, and you and PHAINON are the utter proof of that statement. And much to everyone’s expectations, it works against all odds, though how chaotic everything may be. Where you spiral, he steadies. When your thoughts are loud and messy—which often is—he answers in calm nods, soft chuckles, and gentle touches. In those drastic moments, his arms are already around your shoulders before the panic hits its peak, steadying and guiding you back to solid land.

Phainon just seems to know what to say—or not to say—to bring you back down to the ground when you are overwhelmed and flooded by thousands of (imaginary) disasters running inside your head or when you are frantically pacing around, mumbling to yourself, and doing that small habit (e.g. biting your nails or picking your lip until it bleeds). He’ll tread towards where you are, taking your hands, and offers words of comfort and assurance as if he’s done it a thousand times before—he already has and he will never tire of it, never pull away, never let you down, never treat your panic like a burden but rather like something gentle to cradle until it passes. 

It was as if your mind is a place he knows all too well, like a maze that he had already memorized, navigating through the paths of your thoughts with a tender precision.

“Don’t worry, love.” He tells you, voice warm and soothing as he cups your face affectionately. He holds the same note in his gaze, love and the gentleness that comes with it, that only you know of, that only the both of you share for one another, “You can leave it to me.” You cling to your thoughts, all panic and muddied, that has now lost all meaning under your turmoil and in between his ease. His words tug you back to the brink and somehow when everything feels like it's on fire—oftentimes metaphorically and sometimes literally—he’s already halfway through putting out the flames of your problems. (See? The world didn’t end) You don’t know how he does it, how he holds your mess with such grace, only that he does.

You had asked him once, “Aren’t you tired of me?” Surely, he should be, right? I mean, having to deal with someone who is stressed every minute and needing reassurance every single time can be so draining, right? You’ve already heard about couples breaking up because of those things like their lover was being so much like they didn’t want to be comforted every single time like they never even listen like everything is just the same thing over and over again and it gets so tiring having to deal with those things repeatedly. You’re tiring to deal with, right? Maybe he’s just trying to put up with you because you don’t know?? How would you know???? 

It feels like you’re always too much and never enough at the same time. It was as if you’re clinging too tightly and still somehow slipping away, like one more breakdown, one more late-night anxiety spiral, one more text asking “are you mad at me?” will be the final straw. You replay every conversation in your head, dissect every pause, every sigh, every silence that might not even mean anything but what if it did? What if he’s just too kind to say he’s tired of you? What if he’s just waiting for the right moment to leave quietly? What if you’re reading too much into this—but also, what if you’re not? What if you’re right and he’s just too polite to admit it? You try to shake the thoughts off, but they cling like static. It’s relentless.

What if—”No. Why would I be?” But his voice cuts through it all, clean and sharp like a stone abruptly dropped into a pond, and like the settling ripples that eases into the water’s surface to return to what it once was and what it ought to be, your spiraling thoughts are quiet once more. “You may think that you’re unraveling, confusing, and a mess, that perhaps I am tired of your chaos and thoughts. But I promise that you’re still—only a little tangled right now.” His words settle into you like soft rain. “Sure, it gets tiring sometimes, but love is not about ease, isn’t it? It’s about staying, especially when the wires get crossed and the lights flicker. I don’t mind untangling you. I chose you, mess and all, and I’ll keep choosing you, even on the days you forget how to choose yourself.”

It’s just so simple. For Phainon, loving you means loving the storm and being unbothered by the lightning and everything terrible that comes with it.

Albeit sometimes, he matches your energy. No, more like snatches it from you, spins it in his hands, and throws it back at you. He can be dramatic too—even a hundred times more than you already are. One particular example is when the both of you had a fight—it was nothing major, no broken plates, no screaming, no yelling involved (aeons, he’ll hate himself if even raised his voice at you for a little). But still, it was something that made you upset and turned away from him. 

The silence between you and him had only lasted for less than a day, however, when you heard the sound of something hitting your window, to which you dismissed as nothing at first. Not until it came again, again, and again. Until you get sick of it and decide to check which little kid is playing pranks on you this time, thus you open the window, ready to address the annoyance but…

Spoiler alert: it was not a kid.

It was a man in the form of someone you clearly know, whose lines on his face has been memorized by you, whose hands you had held many times in yours, whose laugh still echoes in your head even when he's not around—and there he was, Phainon, standing a few feet away from your window. You just noticed but there is someone else too, but situated a little further away from your boyfriend who you just had a fight earlier. Wait, are they singing? Was that singing you’re hearing? And is that a water vase that he’s trying to spray on himself to imitate the rain? 

“What are you doing?” You voice out the loudest question inside your head, confused. You’re beyond bewilderment, actually.

Phainon expresses the most exaggeratedly forlorn expression you’ve ever seen on his face. The guy beside him, one that you don’t know but have seen performing in the streets of Okhema several times before, keeps singing into the invisible microphone in his hand. You don’t know what the song is but he sure is hitting those notes.

“I’m suffering, clearly.”  Phainon replies dramatically, placing a hand over his chest like a wounded prince. “I’ve been banished from the kingdom of your heart, and thus I stand here—exiled, soggy, and still utterly devoted.”

“What?” At this point, you are not entirely sure what to say or react, but Phainon does as he rambles on and on with his poor singer accompanying him from the back.

“I have known despair. I have tasted the bitterness of your silence. I have felt the frost of you turning away from me. Please,” he begs, asks, and does everything just for you even if he looks utterly stupid right now. Thankfully, there aren’t any citizens to witness the spectacle of their dazzling Chrysos Heir. “Please come back to me, my love. Allow me to hold you again.”

“Phainon, it was just spilled milk.” Why was he acting as if you were breaking up with him? As if you were truly going to leave him? You had planned on apologizing to him later on and admitting your mistakes, you really were, but he beat you to it with whatever this is.

“And for that,” he declares, without a hint of sarcasm or anything similar lacing into his tone. “I shall atone.” And you could not help but sigh, rubbing your temples as he continues to look at you like a tragic hero awaiting his redemption arc.

“You know it was my fault, right?” You remind him, voice a little softer now. However, his response comes without hesitation, firm and full of that all-consuming affection he never dares to hide:

“You could never do anything wrong in my eyes.”

The ridiculousness of this situation sinks into you now—the man donned in white and gold, half soaked and entirely unserious, staging a melodramatic serenade over something small, with a busker-turned-background vocalist going off like this was their final performance. And yet, in the absurdity of it all, your chest aches from the sheer, overwhelming love you feel for this man who would make a fool of himself just to see you smile again. You lean slightly out the open window, resting your arms on the sill, watching the man with a mixture of exasperation and adoration, wondering how on earth you got lucky enough to be loved like this.

A breath of laughter slipping past your lips. “What are you waiting for?” you say, voice tinged with fondness. “Didn’t you wish to hold me?”

Phainon beams up at you like you’ve just given him the stars and rushes to where you are, despite the fact that there is a perfectly fine door that he can go through.

“Oh, and please, compensate the poor man for your theatrics.”

© AZULLUMI. plagiarism of any form and type, stealing, copying, translating, reposting my works on other platforms is NOT permitted.

[missmanlykink]

i know you miss me… | johnny storm ✿

MDNI - 18+ | navigation - m.list - taglist 𝜗୧ | COME TO MY 𝐈𝐂𝐄 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌 𝐒𝐎𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋 (100 followers celebration!)

summary: even though johnny pretty much abandoned you, he still finds a way to have you wrapped around his finger once again. and even though you tell yourself over and over that you’re going to end this situationship, you guys still end up banging.

paring: fwb!johnny storm x fem!reader

wc: 1.0k

warnings: smutty but no actual smut, kinda proof read, slight angst, toxic?, reader is in denial, descriptions of smut but not really (i don’t know how to explain it.) and yes this is more than sex for them. lower case intended

a/n: yall i haven’t seen this movie yet but i needed to write SOMETHING about him bc johnny is my man and i love joesph quinn BAD so this may not be canonically accurate or some stuff may be a little weird but i don’t thing this is half bad so plsssss enjoy! (and im in superhero phase so my baby clark is next on my list after i finish all my requests)

SMUT UNDER THE CUT - MDNI </3 *

you didn’t expect to be in the endless cycle again when it came to you and johnny, but when it comes to him you know there’s no stop anytime soon.

it all started over again when you got an unexpected phone call from your ex-hookup. he had basically dumped you after he went up to space and got his fancy new powers and became the human torch. you hadn’t got a phone call in weeks. maybe even a month.

you shouldn't have felt any way about it. you guys weren’t dating, and as soon as you started dipping into each other's pants, the other thing left of a friendship was a tainted one.

you let out a soft hello into your telephone and what came from it was a voice you knew all too well.

“hey y/n” he said softly, but you could tell this wasn’t a check up call. you could sense that “i wanna bang” voice from a mile away.

“what do you want, johnny?” the way you said that came out way harsher than your intended. you needed to put an end to this. as much as you may have enjoyed the sex, you were just some toy for his enjoyment.

you heard a fuzzy sigh from the phone, “c’mon…i miss you…”

you couldn’t even hold back the scoff that if epurted from your throat. you could not believe this guy. “no, johnny i’ve moved on from whatever we used to do.”

unfortunately that was lie. and it makes you so mad that he knows how to use his little control over you.

”don’t say that, i know you miss me too. im sorry for not calling you.”

and this is where he gets your every time. this is the cycle. you guys have a lot sex for a few weeks—very good sex—and then decide it’s enough, you guys were only supposed to be friends and “this is the last time you find a way to get into my underwear” and would smile and nod his head. “agreeing with you”. then you’d get that phone call. he always knew how to draw you right back into it. he was addicting.

but it was different this time. he wasn’t returning your calls and he didn’t even bother to try to call you even once during all of this. not even a post card to say “yea y/n i didn’t for forget about you and did you hear?! i got powers!”.

nothing. and you really shouldn’t have cared. you’ve been telling yourself “it’s okay” and that “i’ve been meaning to end it with him for a while, this is goof thing!” but it all still stinger in the end.

“you literally abandoned me, and you can literally just go and get it on with one of you many many groupies.” that earned you another sigh from him “i’ve been trying to call you and- i’ve been so busy…” he stared off with sincerity lacing his voice

“and about the groupies, they’ll never compare to you y/n. you know me.”

and that’s where he got you back. next thing you found yourself stepping out of a cab, standing right outside of baxter tower. you walked through the glass doors to be faced with a couple of security guards.

you really didn’t want to have to explain way you were there, but luckily—somehow—you saw johnnys walking from the elevator to greet you and hopefully find a non embarrassing way to explain why you’re at the tower at such a late hour.

“don’t worry i invited her over. she’s an old friend” he whispers to one of the guards and flashes you one of those winks that made you want to jump his bones and he knew it.

the palm of his warm hand reached the small of your back. leading you into the very luxurious elevator. johnny clears his throat to begin the process of breaking awkward silence. “so, how’s life been treating you”

you roll your eyes at his very out of place question “ listen, johnny. i’m here to catch up on sex, not life. and this is the last time i'll be doing this.”

“hey, don’t be like that. i really do miss you a lot..” you shake your head and sigh at his apology. you know he probably does really mean it but you didn’t wanna hear it . “it’s okay. let’s just get this over with”

he did that same smile and nod as you both walked out of the elevator. when you both were tip-toeing down to his room, trying to stay quiet, you had this feeling that you were going to be here again, doing the same thing.

intoxicating nights filled with limbs wrapped around each other, him whispering the same seductive words he’d known would have your back arched up into his chest. the nights that had his team caking make up over his hickey covered neck that were placed by your hungry lips.

the sound of soft whimpers coming from both of you, tangled up in his sheets. and sometimes you’d meet at your apartment. you wait on your balcony to see flying through the sky just to be with you. and at your place you could be as loud as wanted—even though you did get a complaint from one of your neighbors.

the nights you spent together kept you reminiscing about the feeling of body on yours. and you always told yourself “this is the last time” but you always had a gut feeling you’d find yourself in the same position you were before.

taglist ✿ ៙ : [to be added later!] + like this > post if you want be added!

dividers: @/hyuneskkami do not copy my work for anything without my permission.

[andromedathefairy]

Bondage with sevika x butchreader whose achingly sensitive??

She finally just wants them to take it uhh yeah

First request guys im kinda nervous 😞

Hi there, anon!

Don't be nervous, I don't bite... unless my partner wants me to. ;)

I hope you gonna like this, because - I was nervous to write this a little bit.

The Butch in Bondage

Sevika x butch!Reader bondage, mean!Sevika, daddy kink(?), butch!Reader, praise kink, strap-on Summary: Sevika and butch!Reader trying out bondage, and Reader has a really hard time to let themselves be dominated, but in the end, it will be worth it. word count: 1,5k sorry, not proofread.

You looked into Sevika’ silver eyes, once again she was adamant, but so were you. Her eyebrows almost met above her nose, her eyes narrowed as she tried to read your face. Both of you held your own straps in your hands, ready to click it around your waists and fuck the other senseless. Silence sat in the room, you confidently lifted your head, ready to dominate Sevika. She let out a low chuckle when she saw your movement. She stepped closer to you, that’s when you noticed that she was holding a rope in her mechanical hand.

You almost had a feeling you were in an opening scene of a lesbian cowboy porn. All you missed were the cowboy hats. You both held your straps by your side as guns, and Sevika’s rope made it even more grotesque.

“All right cowboy, back down.” you said to Sevika with a stern voice. “Just let me dick you down.”

“Ain’t gonna happen, Love.” Sevika retorted with a smirk as she moved forward. You stepped back.

“What do you want with that rope anyway? Make a lasso and catch me?” you snorted. You watched as Sevika’s face lit up, and you already knew you are fucked.

“That is for you.” she said with a mean smirk. “To tie you up.”

“Fuck no.” you cried out as you stepped back and you reached the wall of the bedroom. “No, I’m fucking you!” you spit between your teeth, you knew you lost this round, but you refused to go down quietly.

“You were the one who admitted that you want to try out bondage.” she told you as she reached you.

“No! I said I want to tie you up!” you lied as you stared into her eyes. You felt the heat that was coming from her body. You could’ve sworn that the more confident she felt, the more heat she radiated.

“Tssk, tssk.” she clicked with her tongue. “Don’t play the hard to get. Put down that strap and undress. Be a good girl for daddy.” Sevika ordered you with a demanding tone.

“NO!” you yapped as you tried to stand your ground.

Sevika laughed at your words: “You have one chance to undress, then I’m going to tie your hands, get your fucking pants and boxer down, and fuck you senseless anyway, but then I won’t touch your sooo, sooo sensitive tits.” she finished with a cruel tone.

“You don’t even know how to tie a knot!”

“Wanna test your theory?” Sevika asked you as she laughed into your ear. She stepped back, waiting for you to make your decisions.

“Fuck it.” you said as you put down your strap. Sevika graciously helped you undress, she feasted in her small victory over you.

“Good girl.” she said with a sarcastic tone as she pulled down your boxers. Sevika calling you a “good girl” did something to your brain, but you still wanted to deny it.

“I won’t fold just because you call me a good girl.” you tried to stand your ground once more.

Sevika pulled you closer, you felt ridiculously as your bare body clashed against her dressed up one. “You are right, you folded even before I called you that.” she laughed into your face.

“I hate you.” you spit out the words with as much disdain as you could gather.

“Mmmm, so you don’t want to help me take off my clothes?” Sevika asked you with a grin. She slowly pulled her shirt over her head.

“No, you can do it alone!” you crossed your arms before your body, but you ached to touch her, and knowing what was coming, you were sure you won’t be able to touch her during sex, so you devoured all your remaining self-worth – which to be fair, weren’t much at this point – and reached out to her. You kissed and caressed her skin as you freed her from her clothes. You looked at her face, and the devotion and lust that you saw in her eyes made your knees shake. You knew you would be safe even in bondage. She would never do anything to hurt you, especially not during sex, and you also talked this through many times.

Sevika kissed you with passion, like she wanted to become one with you. And Goddess knows, she wanted to.

“You ready?” she asked you as she walked beside the bed and grabbed the rope.

“Yes.” you nodded as you stepped forward. “…Daddy.”

She tied you, she put the rope around your body with expertise, you knew this wasn’t the first she had done this. You had many questions, but you kept them to yourself. You tried to accept your new title, The Butch in Bondage. Eventually you ended up in a box tie, the rope surrounded your chest below and above your boobs, it circled around your upper arms and held your hands behind your back. There was no touching for you that night anymore.

You were entirely at Sevika’s mercy, and somehow losing control made you horny. You were both dominant personalities and neither of you lost control to this extent before, but it thrilled you. The rope surrounded your upper body, the pressure of the rope was there, but it was not too strong, it just held you tightly.

“If anything feels off, if you feel the rope is suffocating you, or its too much, just tell me, and I will get you out of it.” Sevika reassured you.

“Okay.” you nodded.

Sevika kissed you, then she wandered down, while caressing you with her nose and mouth. When she reached your chest, she took her time. She fondled, licked and bit your boobs. You wanted to grab and pull her head backward by her hair, but because of the state you were in you could do nothing else just moan.

“My beautiful.” she mumbled against your tits. A shiver ran through your body when the words left her mouth. You rarely been called beautiful.

She continued her way down, she kneeled, and then she finally reached your pussy. She kissed your pubis, then she slid her hands between your legs, she had to force herself a little, because you just stood her with your legs closed. She gently slipped between your lips.

“Be a darling and spread for me.” she said it with a kind tone, but you knew it was an order. You swallowed the last drops of your defiance and obediently parted your legs.

She went straight for your pussy, her tongue was instantly on your clit, her hands grabbed your ass. She feasted on your cunt, she was not in a hurry. She enjoyed your every movement, every little twitch, every whimper and moan as she circled with her tongue on your clit, as she ran her mouth through between your folds, and massaged the entrance of your hole.

“Yesss, Daddy.” you moaned with shaking legs.

Sevika stood up and gathered her strap. She led you to the edge of the bed, and lubed you and her strap, just to be on the safe side. Sevika turned you so you would face the bed, and she stood behind you.

“Don’t you want to say something to me?” Sevika asked you as she pushed the dildo against your butt. You tried to turn back to her, but you felt the rope cut into your skin.

“Fuck me.” you told her weakly.

“What?” she asked as she led the strap between your slit.

“Please, fuck me, Daddy!” you screamed at the top of your lungs. Sevika chuckled, grabbed your waist with both hands and pushed her dick deep inside you. Your mouth formed a silent O as she suddenly filled your thirsty pussy with the strap. This was not the first time she fucked you with her strap, but you still did not get use to the feeling. Your previous partners had no idea what they were doing when they tried to fuck you, but Sevika did… all too well.

She fucked you with mean thrusts, your legs were shaking so badly, it was a possibility you would collapse, regardless that Sevika hold your waist with firm hands.

“Bend.” she ordered you as she pushed your upper body to the bed. There you were, your legs spread, hands behind your back in bondage, your chest on the bed, and in this position Sevika was deeper inside you than ever before. You thought she couldn’t stimulate you more, but then she grabbed your hair and pulled your head up just a little bit.

“So precious, so nice for me.” Sevika grunted as she bounced back from your ass with each thrust. Hearing those words scrambled your mind, you came with a loud moan that shook the whole room. You expected her to stop as your orgasm washed over you, but Sevika didn’t even became slower, she promised you she would turn you into the whimpering mess, and she was keen on keeping her promise.

She fucked you through your orgasm… then through an another one… and another, until you couldn’t stand, hardly breath and couldn’t even say “Yes, Daddy.” anymore.

taglist:

@riotstemple29 @belldonic @lovhergrl @sophiasophia19 @valdoesthings4

[nefarioushours]

Intertwined

Chapter Two: Solutions

[The Saja Boys x Witch F!Reader]

[Prologue] [Ch. 1]

Summary: Fear is starting to consume you. Rumi is sure she can help you come up with a solution.

Warnings: no use of y/n, you almost drown

WC: 3.7k

A/N: AAAH more reader related things are happening! I plan for the next chapter to be Saja Boys Centered :3 I hope you all enjoyed this one! I have tentatively decided to do a taglist... i may change my mind. for now, im going to try! However! I will not be tagging when i do nsfw chapters, as I do not feel comfortable with that! Divider by @uzmacchiato

You cannot sleep. You have been trying for what seems like hours now. Every time you shut your eyes and start to drift off, fear creeps in and a horrible feeling forms in the pit of your stomach. You toss and turn a couple of times and groan.

As you settle on your side you feel something start to loom over you. You wait before doing anything. You think that maybe whichever demon it is, will speak up. He does not. You tense, hands gripping your shirt.

“Do you need something?” You ask.

“Wouldn’t your bed be more comfortable?” Abby asks, obviously smiling.

Your eyes snap open and you sit up. You look up at him and inhale slowly, thinking about what you want to say next. “It would be… Yes.” You narrow your eyes. “Why?”

Abby shrugs. “Just wondering why you’re laying out here. On the couch.”

You place your head in your hands and groan. You drag your fingers down your face. “I’m scared.” You admit.

“We’ll protect you.” Jinu tries to comfort you. Baby snorts.

“From the magic contaminating my body?” Your head tilts. “From the witch in my fucking mind?” You shake your head. “I don’t want to see her again. It was hard getting out of her grasp last time.”

“Humans need sleep.” Mystery huffs. “You need sleep.”

“I know!” You throw yourself back, sliding down the couch cushion, right into the floor. You lay there, limp, looking at the ceiling. You want so badly for things to return to normal, even just twelve hours ago would be fine. You sit up and look at the men. “I’m going to bed, I guess.”

If you are lucky, you will sleep. Normally. If things keep going the way they are, you will not sleep at all. Only one way to find out. You stand up and begin to walk towards your room. As you do so, every other person in your apartment follows you. You get to your doorway and turn towards them. You furrow your brows and place a hand on the doorframe. You give them a confused look.

“We don’t need sleep.” Baby is the first to speak.

“Thank you, that explains nothing.”

“We’re going to make sure you’re okay.” Romance informs you.

“Wow, thanks.” You turn and trudge towards your bed. You flop onto the mattress and curl into a ball on your side.

“We can tell when you’re upset.” Jinu steps into your room.

“We can wake you up if you seem to be having a nightmare.” Abby finishes.

That makes more sense. “Okay…” You yawn. “That works.” You settle onto the mattress and get as comfortable as your aching shoulder will let you. You hope it does work. As you drift off to sleep, the men settle around your room, watching you. You have to ignore how weird that is to actually go to sleep. But it is not hard to drift off once you realize just how tired you are.

The sound of a bird wakes you. You are used to bird noises. You wake up to them often. However, this one sounds rather close. As you try to completely wake up, you feel a blanket on top of you. Your palms dig into your eyes, and you groan. You shift and wince as you do, pain flaring up in your shoulder.

It is only worsening.

You sit up and look out of your window. The sun is high; it is almost the afternoon. You swing your legs over the side of the bed and hear it again. A bird. In a hat. Your heart is almost in your throat when you realize it is in your house.

Oh, that is an omen. Your mind is racing. You are quick to pinch yourself. You are not dreaming. You inhale and the bird notices you. You tense, every muscle in your body freezes. You swallow hard as it blinks. The bird blinks, and suddenly three eyes on either side of it are staring at you. You gulp down air, wanting to scream, but no noise comes out.

Before you can muster up any sort of voice, a portal opens near the bird, right on the floor. A tiger, that under any other circumstance would be beautiful, makes its way through the portal. Its head pokes out first, and slowly, the rest of the body pops out. It is sitting, staring, watching you. You blink a few times, eyes growing wider with every blink.

You hear your name being called. You do not even turn your head towards the sound of the voice. You are stuck looking at the strange creatures in your room.

“I heard you moving, I know you’re awake.” Rumi reaches the doorway. She looks at you and then her eyes travel to what you are currently gawking at. “Oh!” She huffs, “you two are scaring her!” She walks towards them and tries to shoo them out of your room. “Go back to the others-”

As she shoos them, the bird begins to flap its wings. Seemingly annoyed that Rumi would even suggest leaving. The tiger bounds towards you. You let out a little noise, scooting back on your bed and the tiger places its large, fat paws on your cover. The tiger sniffs you, inhaling every scent that seemingly lingers on you. The bird lands on the tiger’s head and looks at you. They are both examining things you do not have the capacity to know, it would seem. You sit still, letting them do whatever it is they are doing.

Rumi crosses her arms and groans. She knows they will not hurt you. The tiger’s nose makes its way to your shoulder and a loud huff releases from it. It backs up and you can only assume it looks disgusted. Your heart drops. Your face falls and you grab the covers under you.

“What’s wrong?”

You look at Rumi and pout. “My shoulder…-” You do not even finish the sentence. Rumi makes her way towards you, and you grab the collar of your shirt. You gently pull at the fabric and give her full view of your shoulder. Rumi is about to get up close and personal until she does not. Rumi pulls back fast. Her eyes are wide, and her hand is over her mouth.

This causes panic to stir in you. Your bottom lip quivers. You are terrified to look at it. You decide to do so, like ripping off a band aid. You look over quickly, your head snapping towards the wound, and your skin begins to crawl. The bruise is still there. It is worsening. But that is not the only thing worrying you. In fact, it is probably the least of your worries.

Where the witch’s nails had dug into your shoulder, there are marks. They are not open wounds; you are thankful for that. They are more like scratches, irritated and the skin has risen. Black blotches cover the areas.

“Is that… Oozing?”

You gasp, offended. “Rumi!” You cover your shoulder back up. “It’s… It has to do with magic!” You shout at her.

The tiger places its head in your lap and the bird hops onto your other shoulder. They seem to feel sorry for you. You place your hands on the tiger’s head.

Everyone rushes into your room, wanting to figure out what is going on. Rumi turns towards Zoey and Mira, making a face.

“What did Celine say?” You need relief, maybe she knows something. Rumi turns back to you, still making a face, her nose crinkles. “What does that mean!?”

“She doesn’t know much about witches…” Zoey admits. “But she did mention magic could counteract magic.”

“She also said anyone who revives five demons should-”

Rumi nudges Mira. She stops talking. “Don’t worry about that part.” Rumi puts her hands, “However… I have an idea.”

You light up. Anything will give you hope in your current state.

“Wait a minute-” Mira turns towards the demons in the doorway. “You do not know anything about how to help her?”

They all give Mira a nasty look. “If we did,” Jinu tries to remain levelheaded., “we would be helping her. Witches, most of the time, don’t contact demons. We know nothing about her magic.”

Rumi catches your attention again, “Look,” She steps towards you. Your fingers pet the tiger anxiously. “Do you know any sort of healing spells?”

You point towards your nightstand. “My spell book is in there.” Rumi opens the nightstand and hands you your book. “This is actually… My grandma’s book.” You laugh nervously. “I stole it. I mean, Grandma gave it to me! My mom tried to take it before I moved… Said I wasn’t strong enough for it. I took it back from her the night I left. It has every spell she ever learned or thought about learning. My grandma was powerful, she really only ever used ‘good’ or acceptable magic though.”

You sift through the pages as you speak.

“Anyway,” Your eyes narrow as you reach the healing section, “Grandma, before she sort of retired, was renowned by all witches for her abilities. Mom never knew why she gave me this book, considering my sister is so much stronger than me.”

You spot a spell used for healing wounds inflicted by magic and read over it. Your brows furrow. “Find something?” Baby asks.

“Yeah,” You scrunch your nose, “Kind of needs water though. And I don’t think my bath is big enough…”

The girls light up now. Rumi, Zoey, and Mira all look at each other and then back to you. Your brow cocks and Rumi grins.

“The Bathhouse!" They girls shouts.

“Uh, that is public. It would be pretty weird for me to just perform magic over the bath, no?”

Rumi smirks, “Bobby can pull some strings.” Zoey and Mira both seem excited for some time to relax. Rumi gives you a soft smile. “This will work. I know it.” It has to. You give her a weak smile. “We’ll go ahead and go; I’ll text you the location. We’ll see you soon.”

The three of them exit through your window and leave you with your new roommates, again. You look down at your spell book and shut it. You pat the tiger’s head, and he moves. You walk towards your bag and shove the book in it. All eyes are on you.

“What?” Your voice is soft, weak.

“You don’t have to go.”

Jinu says it, but they all seem to agree. His voice, something in it lingers. His tone is telling you something opposite from his words.

“And then what?” You throw your bag over your good shoulder. You walk towards them, and for the first time, you are not scared of them. You are not afraid of what they are capable of. “I could die. If this does not work… I. Will. Die.” You cannot emphasize that enough. “You said if you five happen to die again, or whatever,” You are agitated, “I’ll lose myself. What happens to you five if I die? Hm?” Your forehead wrinkles from your brows furrowing. “I know it won’t be good.”

You push past the five men and walk out of your room. You make it to the door. They are on your trail. You turn to look over your shoulder, “You guys… Just stay here. Do not cause any trouble, please. I will know if you do. If you give me a reason to,” You open your door, “I will pour salt in front of this, and none of you will be able to leave.” You close the door and begin to walk down the hall.

Frustration is taking over. You hold onto your bag like a lifeline. As you walk towards the stairs, a door behind you opens. Your head snaps back.

“If that is you-”

You are met with Ari. You groan. Her brow cocks and she gives you a cheeky smile. “Who?” She looks behind her, towards your apartment. “You got someone over? A man, perhaps?” She taps her chin.

Five of them. You force a smile and ignore her question. “Ari, what are you doing?”

“What are you doing?”

You blow out air, “I’m just- I’m- It’s just-” Your hands motion around you, “You know?”

Ari’s jaw drops. “No.” She shakes her head. “Did you dabble in bad magic?” Your face drops, your body goes numb. “What did you do?” She whispers, concern and curiosity getting the best of her.

“Ari,” You step backwards towards the stairs, “I can tell you later. I have to handle something right now-”

“Can I help?” She lights up, giving you puppy dog eyes. “I promise, I’m so helpful! You know I am!” She grabs your arm, begging you.

You almost scream. Your teeth grind down and your jaw clenches. Ari lets you go and watches you in fear. You sigh. “I know you’re helpful. This may be too much for you. But, I promise,” You put your pinky out, “if you can be of any help, I will get you.”

Her pinky hesitantly meets yours. You pull back and motion for her to go back home. She takes that as a ‘leave for now’, gives you a quick goodbye, and heads back to her apartment. Your phone buzzes and Rumi has sent you the location.

“Please,” You whisper to yourself. “Please let this work.”

You stand in the bathhouse with Huntrix. A towel is around you, and your spellbook is in hand. Your eyes look down at the tub in front of you. The girls gather around you and watch you closely. You open the book up to the healing spell and the girls immediately back up.

“Should we leave?” Zoey asks.

You shake your head, “You should probably use a different bath, but you don’t have to leave.”

They continue to watch you. You begin to circle the tub of hot water. You inhale and place a hand over the water. You begin to read off the spell. Your voice is soft and not all that confident.

Nothing happens.

You are growing anxious. You look at the girls. Rumi smiles at you. “Be more assertive!” You nod. Your grandmother was always confident when doing magic. You stand on the other side of the tub from the girls. You shut your eyes and begin to speak louder, chanting the spell. Your fingers curl towards your palm and the water begins to bubble. You open your eyes to find the water glowing. You smile at the demon hunters across from you.

“I think it worked!”

Zoey gives you two thumbs up. Her, Rumi, and Mira excuse themselves and walk to another tub. As they do so, you place the spell book in your bag, and you remove your towel and step into the water. You slide into the tub and immediately feel something. Your shoulder stings. All of the dark magic is being pulled from it. You hiss in pain, writhing momentarily.

You try to relax into the water, submerging yourself further. Your eyes shut and you exhale through your nose. You need to relax. The more you do so the easier it will be for the magic to leave you.

You unclench your jaw and open your eyes. You see the girls across from you in another tub. They are talking and having fun. They all look over at you and you give them a thumbs up. You sigh and close your eyes again.

The hot water is bubbling around you. You feel relief. The water, within seconds, is freezing. Your eyes shoot open. The world has shifted. You whine. You are on your back, lying in freezing water, wearing nothing but a towel.

You stand up and look around. You realize you are back where you were when you met Jinu. The moon is bright above you, and the area is ever expanding. You turn around and, in the distance, you see her.

The witch.

You growl. You begin to sprint towards her. She stays where she is, and somehow, you do too. You stop running. The water settles around your feet, and you look at her. Your eyes do not fall from here.

“Come here.” It is stern. Your voice is soft. Too soft. You tense, your hand gripping your towel. “Come here.” You say it louder, angrier.

You blink and she’s standing before you. You want to reach out and grab her. You remain still. You have questions and beating them out of her is not an option. Right now.

“Did you enjoy your rest this morning?” She asks, her voice as distorted as ever. “I figured you needed it.” She feigns concern. Her hand reaches out to pat your shoulder and you are reeling back. She clicks her tongue. “I have no intention of harming you. Yet.”

“Why am I here, again? What do you want? Haven’t you already done enough?” You hit her with multiple questions.

“Slow down,” She hisses. “You’re here because you’re useful. You revived five demons, dearie. You truly cannot fathom how strong you are.” She grabs your chin. Her claws do not graze you; she is being careful. “Your family put you down. Your grandmother was the only support you had, and… look where she let you end up”

“Leave them out of this! I’m here because of me. I’m bettering myself.” You snap at her. “I’m fine by myself-”

“But you are not by yourself.” She corrects you. “You are bound to five demons. And those demon hunters are now buddy-buddy with you.” She snarls. “You are going to get hurt.”

Your face softens, “I can handle my-”

“No.” She interrupts, stopping you entirely. “You cannot handle yourself. You are bound to them, and they are bound to you. What happens when they want that bond broken?” Her head tilts. She is still obscured by shadows, but you can barely catch her head drop to the side.

Your stomach is in knots.

“They won’t break it.” You reassure her.

“They are demons. They look out for themselves. As soon as you become a hindrance, it is over for you.” She cups your face. “Anyway, the darkness is already in you.”

“I’m done talking to you!” You scream at her. Power surges around you. The witch disappears. You are left alone. You shut your eyes and feel it. In your chest. You feel heavy. Water fills your lungs. You begin to panic. You fall to your knees and choke. You cough, trying anything and everything to get the water out.

Your eyes shut tight, and you fall to your side, into the water surrounding you.

“What have you done!?”

Jinu shouts, his patterns glowing. His claws are out; he is going to pounce on the hunters at any moment.

You lie on the bathhouse floor, limp, covered in a towel. Rumi is giving you chest compressions. She ignores Jinu and breathes into your mouth. You do not respond in any way, at all. Rumi continues.

“How could you let her slip under!?” Baby growls.

Mira and Zoey are standing guard over Rumi, keeping the demons at bay. As Rumi breathes into your mouth again, the power of the facility blows.

Everyone freezes. Your gurgles can be heard around the room. The tension rises. The power comes back, and you roll onto your side, coughing, puking up water. You are surrounded instantly.

You are immediately bombarded with questions. You almost have to pry your eyes open. Rumi and Jinu are in your face, the others right behind them. Jinu is quick to grab you into his arms and pull you from Rumi. You keep the towel around you and look at him with confusion.

“Are you okay?” He asks.

His golden eyes catch you off guard. Your breath catches in your throat. “I’m- Yeah. Never better.” You mumble the words. You look over at your shoulder and relief washes over you. You sigh. It is healed completely.

“Hey,” Abby pokes at your shoulder, “It worked.”

Rumi, Zoey, and Mira crinkle their noses at the demons. They are all biting their tongues. Mira cannot bite hers forever though.

“We had this under control.” She crosses her arms. “There was no need for you to ‘poof’ in here and act like we were killing her.”

You look at Jinu, “You thought they were killing me?” His grip on you tightens, but he does not look away from the hunters. You take that as a yes. Jinu stands you up and steadies you.

“We could tell you were losing it.” Mystery places a hand on your back, sending chills down your spine.

“We couldn’t let you die.” Romance grabs at your arm. “Especially because of them.” He looks towards the hunters.

They are all over you. You cannot process anything right now. “Can we just go back to my place?” You ask them. “I cannot think straight.”

“What’d you see this time?” Rumi asks you. Genuine concern laces her voice.

“Oh,” You shrug, “just the same scenery as always. Neverending darkness and a huge moon in the sky.” You leave out the witch. You hope she is not an issue anymore.

“Anything else?” Mira cocks a brow.

“No.” You lie to her. “Nothing else of importance.”

None of them question you further. You pry yourself from Jinu’s grip and walk back to your bag. You pick it up and walk to the locker room, putting your clothes back on. You exit the locker room and find Mira, Rumi, and Zoey have left. Leaving you with your newly acquired problems.

You walk towards them and swing your bag over your shoulder. They all seem upset. You pout at them. You motion towards the exit, but do not get any words out. Not before one of them does.

“Why’d you lie?” Baby asks, stepping towards you. You grab your bag tighter. “What else did you see?”

“Nothing!”

“We know you’re lying.” Abby crosses his arms.

“Can we talk about this at home?” You bite back. You do not want this right now. You have not even processed what happened. “Please?” Your voice softens. They all let out an array of different noises.

“Fine.”

You sigh.

“But we’re taking you home.” Jinu snatches you from your spot and you squeal.

You are all gone in a poof up pink smoke.

-----------------------

taglist:

@ml3czqo @just-set-things-on-fire @osball @ri-eveowe @nightlark100 @vipxl @ballads-for-kuni @stzatz4ever @satansdaughter123 @whimsiecat @xsammijoanneex @disappearintofanfiction @itsberrydreemurstuff @sxlsvv @sirens-and-moonflowers @kpopgirliez @ohgodimgoungtodie @jaeisdiary @yaminions

I tried to tag everyone, im sorry if it didn't work or i forgot you! tumblr hates me and so does my memory.

[saltcxrcle]

a lazy morning ── . ✶ l. lane

summary: kissing lois was always your favorite past time in the mornings

pairing: lois lane x gn!reader, lois lane x afab!readerノ wc: 1.1k warnings: no use of 'y/n', none really, reader refers to themself as lois's girlfriend but there's no use of any pronouns, fluff!, lois not being a morning person, making out, slightly suggestive but not really, kinda edited; all mistakes are my own a/n: wrote this short and sweet one shot in an haze from 1:40 to 2:50 AM this morning bc i got inspired by this post and needed to write it for lois bc im so gay for her!! and lois is 100% a girl kisser in this movie you cannot tell me otherwise! lois lane masterlist

YOU LOVED HAVING LAZY DAYS. 

It was rare when Lois decided to have a day where she just took the time to slow down and relax. Being a workaholic was something that was burned into her veins. There was always a new story to report on and evidence to gather on a new exposé she was writing for her job. 

But this morning was different. Lois finished the final edits on her new story last night and would take it to Perry tomorrow morning for approval, leaving Sunday free for the two of you to do whatever you wanted. You thanked whatever higher power was out there that your girlfriend managed to finish her article so she could actually spend time with you. 

Lois had a problem shutting out the rest of the world when working on something big. You knew it from first-hand experience when she locked herself in her apartment over the weekend when you first started dating. You almost broke into her place when she wouldn’t respond to your texts asking if the two of you could go on a date, or respond to your ‘are you okay?’ texts. 

Nonetheless, you were delighted by the fact that she could finally sleep in for once and not worry about a deadline or the final edits to the draft she was working on. 

You woke up before her, which was unusual for the pair of you. She would usually rise first and get out of bed carefully to work, but since she didn’t have anything to do, Lois was able to sleep in. Her face was nestled in the crook of your neck, her slow breaths fanning over your skin as she slept soundly. 

The two of you found each other in your sleep last night, having been on opposite sides of the bed, but slowly migrated to the middle. And now you were wrapped up in each other, not necessarily knowing whose limb was whose, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

You were content in staying there forever, letting Lois catch up on much-needed sleep, but the sharp intake of breath let you know that she was starting to stir. It was almost like she could sense that you were awake, and her body began to wake up. 

Lois pressed a lazy kiss to the hollow of your throat before pulling away to meet your eyes. 

“Morning.” She murmured, eyes still hazy from her deep slumber, as Lois blinked away the remnants of fatigue lining her gaze and limbs. 

“Morning babe.” You whispered back, a small smile on your face as you took in the relaxed face of your girlfriend. 

Lois raised her head up, glancing at the alarm clock behind you before her head fell—Lois’s forehead hitting your collarbone. 

“Ugh.” She groaned.

You couldn’t help but smile and pet the back of her head, smoothing down some of the flyaways of her bedhead. “What time is it?” 

“Too early.” Lois grunted out, her face finding itself back in the crook of your neck. 

She let out an indignant noise when you craned your neck to see the time. It was nearing noon. 

You let out a gentle laugh. “S’ not early honey, we slept in. It’s almost noon.”  

“Then why am I still tired?” She grumbled as she pulled you tighter against her. 

“Maybe because you’re a chronic overworker and stayed up later than you were supposed to instead of sleeping in bed with your darling girlfriend?” 

Lois huffed but said nothing in retaliation, burying her face further into your neck. If her brain was working any faster, she would have come up with a snappy retort, but it was lagging behind due to just waking up (and she would rather have a building fall on her with Superman not there to save her than admit that you were right). 

You let out a soft chuckle before shuffling down your pillow, meeting Lois’s tired but bright blue eyes. Your hand moved to push a wayward strand behind her ear before cradling her cheek, your thumb caressing her sun-warmed skin. 

The two of you stared at each other, faces unknowingly leaning toward each other like two magnets coming together. Before either of you knew it, lips were pressed against each other in a warm caress. 

Neither you nor Lois cared about the morning breath that both of you had. You were too focused on how soft Lois’s lips were against yours, how they slotted against your own perfectly like two puzzle pieces, and how you could taste the lingering remnants of the vanilla lip balm you and she applied just before the pair of you went to bed. 

Your mouths moved together in sync—a familiar and choreographed dance that you and Lois did frequently whenever you kissed each other. Kissing Lois came to you naturally—it was as easy as breathing. You never had to think too hard about it; you just did it.

A familiar warmth started to spread throughout your body, slowly burning in your core—but you did nothing to turn the kiss passionate. Each kiss was slow and deliberate. Filled with nothing but love and devotion with each other, the two of you savored the sensual press of lips against one another. 

Hands slowly started to roam over shirts and thin pajama pants, the pair of you were wearing, not daring to slip underneath to feel skin, but the touches weren’t hesitant—they were grounding and reverent as you and Lois lost yourselves in each other. 

Tongue was slowly introduced, swirling around each other, and suckled on slowly. Not daring to change the pace of the rhythm, the two of you were content to kiss. It was perfect for this Sunday morning. If you had it your way, you’d spend every waking moment doing only this with Lois. 

Your hands eventually made their way into her raven-colored hair, pulling lightly at the strands of hair at the nape of her neck, making a soft moan spill against your lips. You couldn’t help the smile that grew against her own lips before nipping at the plush skin of her bottom lip. She retaliated with her own little nip before kissing you again, a little more forceful than intended, but still held a tenderness behind it. 

Swiping your tongue against hers one last time, you pulled away. Your lips were slick with spit and slightly swollen from the kisses you traded with your girlfriend. You brushed your nose against hers in an Eskimo kiss before your forehead rested against hers. You breathed each other in, smelling like clean linen and sunlight as the two of you stayed wrapped in each other’s arms. 

Neither of you was keen on moving, so you didn’t—the bubble the two of you were in was built with love, warmth, and blankets as you guys stayed in bed, content on having a lazy day doing nothing but relaxing, cooking, and kissing. 

[mamawasatesttube]

also finished issue 30 and . GOD .

good thing: i love kon <3 also love his TTK(?)

??? thing: the whole knockout thing almost had me ugly crying i cant even lie……

first: this panel where he says “can’t… can’t do it, knockout.” IM LIKE. FUCK HES LITERALLY A BABY LIKE. like he should be having a snack and playing video games with friends or whatever im so.

then this panel with him on the bed and then him getting thrown……… (+ the whole bed thing before it)……. i kinda just put my phone down and Hoped that when i picked it back up he’d just be magically Away and smiling again

HES SO GOOD. hes literally pure of heart he couldn’t kill her after ALL that…… hes so 🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲 baby……….

and finally this one where he says he lost something he’d never get back. i had to go breathe fresh air after this

conclusion: i love him way too much already. i Need to go to bed i feel so konpilled right now

I KNOW. I KNOW. AUGHGHH. i just reread this arc myself too and its so agonizing hes SO little. tom grummett is really good at actually drawing him like a 16 year old with the chubby lil cheeks and it RUINS me. hes only little....!!!!

one thing i think about so much is how both of kon's canon suicide attempts are tied to feelings of "deserving" to wear the S shield and mae's words to him in #28. (the supergirl here is called the matrix supergirl, or mae, not kara, btw! kara at this point was dead and also written out of existence </3 mae has... a lot going on and to be frank is not a character i personally enjoy very much bc she hits a few points of "character archetypes i kinda hate" lsdhkfjd but if you are interested in her i can def explain more abt the different supergirls!) like, he really internalizes what she said about him not deserving it, and later once again tries to kill himself, to save superman's life this time, because in his words it's how he can "show [superman] he deserves the S". AUGH.

but YEAH!!!!! hes literally such a good boy. he can't bring himself to kill her even after all that!!! the whole thing with the bed also is really oof to me bc it reads so clearly like a sexual assault or even rape metaphor. especially if you consider that a former dc editor said that superboy was originally meant to "lose his virginity" to knockout in this arc.

i do think losin' it arc is a pretty solid portrayal of abuse - like, knockout does so many textbook abusive things like isolating him from his peers and using their judgment (like mae's, most notably) to further drive him into her arms + telling him that she's the only one who gets him and the only one he needs. it can get pretty victim blamey at times, but at the same time that almost feels on the nose to the point of intentionality (i would think it's intentional if tana wasn't still portrayed as a paragon of virtue despite also being a grown ass adult dating a 16yo). like, yeah, even today but in the 90s context especially, a lot of people would act like a boy can't be abused by a woman. so some of that tracks. (it's like... kesel thinks knockout is abusive, but not bc kon is underage. its just the manipulation and his naivete, which ... somehow ... we don't connect to him being one year old and also issues in his relationship with tana. karl kesel i need to study you.)

but yeah. yeah. i get it. im also konpilled. we are lying facedown on the floor and rotating slowly together

[setratwo]

beware the chibis

[analog-television]

the forecast calls for - an 100% chance of deltarune tomorrow !!!

higher res pic of the duo under cut

[xxplastic-cubexx]

[wip] i can draw whatever i want forever

[cozylittleartblog]

9th annual nick valentines day (ft. soup again) + doodle i made last year that i forgot about, from when bethesda gave us that free update

[eyes1nthewoods]

[impactrueno]

[man-me--a-sand]

Rictor and Boom Boom meet a strange kid in Central Park.

this is a scene from close encounters of the mutant kind by @kermit-coded, which everyone should go read,, go read all their fics actually.

versions w text under the cut bc I couldn't make up my mind

[rohirric-hunter]

Anyway. I'm gonna start using, "None of These Words are in the Silmarillion," as a catch-all phrase to describe that phenomenon in the Silm fandom where some concept appears from nowhere, based on nothing, makes no sense, and is treated as irrefutable canon for 3-12 business years.

[coolnonsenseworld]

Samurai and Ninja in crappy pics because December here is under a constant cloud and I just want y'all to see them all golden and cute without learning how to take aesthetic pictures 🥴 💙❤️😆🥰

linktr.ee/Mezzy

[cerealmonster15]

yknow i understand that the memes are Not That Deep and it is fun to make jokes and relating w/others about like "oh no i started another wip when i have 90000 other wips im neglecting!!! i had another idea when i should be working on the projects i already have!!!" and i get that it is a good habit to like, finish what you start and the want to see things through and such. like shore i relate 2 these too. but ☝️! i must ask. is it really so bad to have many ideas. is it really so bad to have several idea pools to bounce back and forth from when perhapeth you get stuck on the current one youre on and wanna mix it up a little. IS IT SO WRONG to not finish a wip. must everything be a completed project that is pretty and cleaned up and perfectly done?! i do know, as i said, that it is Not That Deep. but also i do worry that perhaps for some people, it Is That Deep. i would personally like to reject the concept that all ideas must be completed start to finish in a nice little order otherwise it's "not right" or whatever. sometimes you start something and it doesnt really go anywhere! that's fine. sometimes you put it away for a few days or weeks or months or years and then you come back to it later!! whats wrong w/that. who is putting deadlines on these things, if they are in fact hobbies. business is i guess another story but im not TALKING about business. i am talking about fun teehee hobby time. cutting away imaginary rules and putting false pressures and having FUN why is it so SHAMEFUL to have many ideas and working on them as you GO!!!! be free. do whatever u want FOREVER!!!!!!!