#i'm falling in love with him more but i still don't know how to vibe him out AHHH

[alwerakoo]

'Eyes off of you''

TMNT 2012, post-canon Donatello x April first kiss/getting together, 5k words

art by @nerdy-turtle-enthusiast

[READ ON AO3]

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“So, how do you feel about corn?”

April blinks.

It's such an absurd question it makes her pause, her thumb still frozen on the screen where she held it to pick up the call. Then she laughs, one hand raising to her face to cover her mouth.

“What?” She asks through a giggle, shifting to sit on her heels.

There's a rustle on the other side, like Donnie was doing something just now and didn't even really realize he called her. It's happened before, but not in a few years, and she wonders what got his mind so scattered now.

“It's really not that funny,” he says, in that voice that makes it easy to tell he's not really offended. “Answer the question.”

“I don't know,” April says, moving to stand. “Normal?”

She's been making a dent in the huge pile of textbooks next to her bed that she's been 'organizing' for the past week, but she puts it away for now, happy for the excuse.

April falls onto her bed, the springs in the mattress squeaking under her weight.

Donnie hums. She thinks he might be typing on his computer, or maybe disarming a bomb – it's a little hard to tell with him nowadays.

“What about corn mazes?”

“I do like puzzles.” He can't see her, but she raises her other hand anyway, tapping a finger on her temple. “Only when I can cheat, tho.”

She stares at her ceiling, tracing the long crack in it with her eyes.

Her new apartment has a lot of those. And a minor mold problem.

But it's hers, and she was allowed to pick out whatever awful looking thing she happened to find on Facebook Marketplace and paint the walls a bright yellow that her dad always said 'gave him headaches', or something like that, so either way – she's more than in love with it.

“There's a festival,” Donnie says finally, which sounds like the thing he's been meaning to tell her from the start. “A few towns away. It's like, uhm, I don't know. Kind of cringe. But it might be fun to go tomorrow, if you want to.”

It still feels weird that this is something her friends can do now. Not without any struggle or many unpleasant stares, but it's a start, and isn't that something.

The world they build up after The Shredder is a fragile and young one, wary of mutants but pushing forward despite it, kept upright by years of wild desperation. She knows her boys well enough to trust they won't let their chins fall now that they can finally look up at the sun.

“And what, it's corn-themed?”

Some more typing from the other side.

“Indeed.”

April laughs again.

She's been doing that a lot recently, definitely more than she ever did in her final year of college.

School was fine, and she liked all her new friends, and her college town was just big enough to keep her busy, and it all weighed down on her more and more every year. She missed home, and she missed her real friends, and it all feels a bit like finally taking a breath of fresh air after a long, long time.

She's been laughing a lot more around Donnie too, which is something she usually tries her best not to think about.

“Do you wanna go?” Donnie asks.

“Oh,” April says, voice full of something catty. “You'd make a space in your busy schedule for corn?”

“Sure,” he says, in that voice where it's hard to tell if he's joking or not. “I love corn.”

“Are your brothers coming?” She asks. What she really means is 'it's cool if they are, but please say no'.

“I'm not sure it's really their vibe, to be honest,” Donnie says. And what he really means is... Something. April doesn't dare assume.

She doesn't assume anything, and she wants nothing, and she's going to keep telling herself that until she finally believes it.

“Alright!” She says, voice light. “It's a date.”

She pulls the phone away so quickly she almost drops it right onto her face, ending the call. She lingers there for a moment, her apartment quiet.

Finally, she lowers her phone, holding the edge of it to her forehead.

Softly, she swears under her breath.

***

“You'd think the world's largest cob would be a lot bigger, huh?”

She stands leaning against his car, hands tucked away behind her to not stain her dress. It's one of her better ones – white and simple, and exactly the kind she wears to a date when she wants the guy to call her pretty, and then kiss her goodnight, and then never see her again.

Which is ridiculous, because this is not a date (probably), and she would definitely hate for at least one of these points to happen tonight.

(She's not sure about the other two, and that is a thought she tries her best to push deep, deep into the back of her mind.)

Donnie closes the door to his car, coming around to stand next to her. He tilts his head, like it could make the giant lump of yellow and green plastic grow any taller.

He's wearing sweatpants and at least three layers of shirts, including a plaid, and standing next to him, April feels quite overdressed. It's silly, and she pushes herself upright, smoothing down her dress just to keep her hands busy.

They've spent a good while trying to find a spot in the visibly improvised parking lot, and she's almost certain Donnie actually took up two of them, but whatever they used to paint the white lines on the grass washed out a long time ago. So really – not their fault.

She looks over her shoulder, watching Donnie fiddle with his car for a moment longer.

It's an awful thing, really. Old and beat up, with some value April's almost certain old men make up just to feel better about the piles of junk rusting away on their lawns for years.

She knows Donnie can fix it, but he won't, because he'd rather 'keep it authentic', which apparently means no AC in the middle of the summer, and at least two jammed windows.

He loves that thing to bits, and she can never bring herself to say any of this to his face.

“Okay,” he says, slowly pulling away, hands raised in the air like it's a spooked animal. “It's fine now. Let's go.”

The festival is just about what she expected, if she's being honest, and maybe that's the best part of it.

They're close enough to New York to only get a few side glances, and far enough away to feel as close to anonymous as they can be nowadays. There's a modestly noisy crowd of locals and a bigger, obnoxiously loud sea of tourists, and it's easy to get lost in.

She's glad they went in the evening. It's a full moon, and the dark sky and strung-up fairy lights make every cheesy sign, every dumb attraction, and every awful radio song feel just a little bit more purposeful.

It's nice to spend time with Donnie, too.

Obviously, it is, but there's something to how light it all feels, how their conversations flow and loop back around themselves, and how he looks her in the eyes and doesn't shy away.

It's fun, and it's normal, and it's like those long months where they weren’t speaking never happened. As if he was always like this – tall and confident, and quiet in that way people get when they grow older and realize half of the voices in their heads don't make that much sense after all.

She missed him.

She missed him when they were teenagers, in those moments where he seemed to forget she was his friend before she was a girl, and she missed him when she left and he texted her happy birthday, which made her realize it was the first private message she'd gotten from him in the last six months, and she missed him when she moved back and couldn't quite recognize him anymore.

She thinks that the last part might be mutual.

He's been looking at her a lot lately.

Donnie stops her next to the long line of cheap (and scammy) looking carnival games, his hand on her shoulder.

“Wanna win a plushie?” He says, in that weird way he always does when he both genuinely means something and thinks it's dumb.

He points to the closest cart, a simple balloon dart game, with his chin.

April thinks for a moment, taking a sip of her overpriced lemonade (eight dollars, what the hell?).

“It's not really fun if I play,” she says. They're close enough to the cart that the guy running it can probably hear them, but she stopped caring about those kinds of things a long time ago. “Too easy.”

She taps the side of her head with a finger.

“Too bad,” he says, “'cuz I want one.”

She knows Donnie has no actual interest in anything soft and cute, because he hates life and fun, but he'll probably give it to Mikey, which is really sweet when she thinks about it, so she follows him when he steps closer to the cart.

The guy behind it looks about her dad's age, with the same balding pattern, and he smiles in a way that quickly lets her know he's the only one winning anything tonight.

“'Evening, young man.” He nods at Donnie, giving April a full view of almost all of his teeth. “Winning something for your girl?”

April knows he doesn't mean anything by it, but the comment still almost makes her wince.

But this is so normal, and there's a part of her that still only feels amazed she and her friends can do things like this now, like go to a festival, or to a concert, or to the store, or to be mistaken for a couple, and she's content enough with letting it pass without acknowledgment.

Donnie doesn't say anything for a moment either, busy turning one of the darts around in his hands. He looks so focused it almost makes her laugh again.

“Not my girlfriend,” he says, which surprises her a little. He leans his elbow on the cart, head tilting to point to April with his chin. “She's my sister. The resemblance is uncanny, isn't it?”

April laughs – that loud and sudden thing that very few things can punch out of her. The man's eyes open a little wider, and then he chuckles, a little awkward, like he honestly can't tell if it's a joke or not and doesn't want to offend.

Donnie holds up one of the darts, finger pushing on the metal needle.

“Also, this is dull as hell,” he says. April squints, looking at it more closely, and can't help but agree. The old pocketknife she always keeps in her boots seems a deadly weapon in comparison. “How about I give you two bucks more, and you give me a real dart?”

A few minutes later, they're walking back to the car, giant blue dinosaur in tow.

Donnie looks ridiculous holding it and seems painfully aware of that, his hands stiff like he needs everyone to know this is not for him.

It's equally annoying and cute.

She opens the door for him, and he bends almost in half to push the plush into the backseat.

He's so tall now. They used to be almost the same height, especially when April hit her final growth spurt at the end of high school and gave up on heels for good.

But she has to tilt her head to look him in the face now, and she wonders when all of this happen.

There's so much to Donnie now, so many things she missed in the five years she was gone.

He didn't offer the plushie to her, which feels like something Old-Donnie would trip and fall over himself to do. Because he liked her, so it didn't matter that she wasn't all that interested either, and it didn't matter if she could do it on her own.

And Old-April would hate it, and it'd make her feel stupid and no better than all those prizes hung along the carts.

“You can get these things for like five bucks online,” says New-Donnie, pulling out of the car. “It's a real rip-off.”

“Yeah,” says New-April. “It really fucking is.”

**

April doesn't dance.

It's what she's been saying at every family function, at every prom, at every house party, at her graduation.

And it's mostly the truth, because she doesn't – not with her family and not with her school friends.

She's far away from the painfully insecure teenage girl she used to be, but she always thought there's something everyone ought to keep from those years, and this is hers.

But there are very few things she'd insist on keeping away from people she fought a war with, Donnie being one of them.

She's a city girl, really, unless someone else calls her that, in which case she was "born and raised in the countryside, fuck you". But there's a certain charm to barns and stacks of hay and miles and miles of nothing but corn that she can't quite resist.

“I want to dance,” she says, leaning against the wooden doorframe.

This barn is a lot bigger than anything they ever had at the Farmhouse; repainted and polished up for the tourists. There was a crowd here the whole evening, but it's now late enough for most of the families with kids to fade away, replaced by adults only now going out, or drunk enough to stay.

They're playing a song she vaguely knows, something from the 70's or 80's, and she's feeling warm and fuzzy from overpriced food and good humor.

“I'm not stopping you,” Donnie says.

That gives April a pause.

Because: A – he's being polite and giving her an out in case she wants it; or B – he's dismissing her.

She's not a gambling woman, and she doesn't like her odds here, and there's a part of her that wishes she could just ask him.

But it's one of the many things she doesn't allow herself to do, because she feels like she can't.

She can't talk about things like wanting something more with her ex-not-boyfriends, and she can't go back and forth on her own word now, and she can't have a crush on Donnie, because all of those things are what caused them to drift apart in the first place.

Even if she really, really wants to.

But she can have this evening, and she can have this dance, and if it makes everything awkward and awful again – then be it.

“Come with me,” she adds.

Donnie looks at her.

He told her once that he feels like his brain just works fster than most people's, and she's willing to believe him, judging by all the small expressions that pass over his face.

She knows this is something he would've killed for just a few years back, and this little hesitation makes her feel strangely secure.

Donnie's so different now, free from every awkward habit that clung to him as a teenager. There's so much of everything she used to (and still does) love about him on full display, dressed in a new layer of confidence.

He laughs the same, and there's still that familiar spark in his eyes when something interests him, and he still tends to ramble till he falls out of breath. She always liked that, those moments when they were just two friends, hunched over microscopes and computers together.

But she also likes this new way he makes her feel now – like there's no image she has to fit into, like she can be just April – not an A+ student, or a perfect daughter, or a pretty girl.

There's some bitter irony in that.

That the result of Donnie finally letting go is what made her fall for him like this.

“Alright,” Donnie says, finally. “But I'm an awful dancer.”

***

He really is.

He's stiff and tense, but he doesn't step on her feet, and that's good enough for April.

“Can I tell you something?” He asks over the music, maybe just for the sake of saying anything.

“No,” April answers, because she has a feeling this isn't all that serious, at least not in a worrying way.

He's been keeping a respectful distance, but April steps closer (mostly) to hear him better. She wraps her hands around his arms, and that finally gives him enough courage to rest his palms on her shoulder blades.

“I think Raph is going to propose soon.”

She expected a lot of things but not this, and it makes her blink – taken aback.

And then she grins, squeezing Donnie's shoulder with sudden excitement.

“Fucking hell!” The older couple next to them gives her a look, and she lowers her voice again. “How come?”

“He's been acting weird lately. Asking about good spots for a 'nice date' and all that,” Donnie says, leaning down a little. Maybe just to hear her better. Maybe. “Oh, and I saw the ring.”

April raises her eyebrows.

“Why do you always do that?”

“What?”

“Say the most important thing last. You think Mona will like it?” She questions.

“You think she'd say no?” There's a sudden drop in song and Donnie pulls his arm out to spin her in, her dress twirling around her in a circle.

“What? No,” she says, a little breathless from smiling and laughing now. “Obviously she'll say yes. But I don't know if aliens do proposals like that.”

She steps forward, hand wrapped around Donnie's back, until he's leaning in something resembling a dip. It must look ridiculous on the outside, but the closeness makes her heart beat a little faster.

“I mean, you're the only other alien we're close with.” He straightens again but doesn't pull away this time. “So, what do you think?”

April hums, like she's thinking long and hard.

“If Raphael wants to propose to me, I'm all in.”

“Stop that,” he says, voice a little rough with amusement and something else she can't quite put her finger on.

“I think he should just ask her about it.”

“But then it wouldn't be a surprise.”

The song changes into something a little more upbeat, and she spins again, a little ungraceful in her heavy boots.

“I don't think proposals should be a total surprise,” she says honestly.

Donnie looks at her, maybe a little surprised.

“Really?” It seems like he doesn't really share the same view, and she never expected him to. The helpless romanticism is the part he kept from his teenage years.

“Well, yeah. Like, you should talk about getting married in general before it.”

Donnie seems to think about that for a moment. April knows she has the point here, and that he might never admit it, and she's fine with that.

“What if you dated a really great guy for, like, ten years, and then he suddenly proposes? Does it matter then whether you talk about it before or after?”

In April's mind, ten years and no talk of marriage is an answer enough.

“I don't know,” she jokes. “Ask me in ten years.”

“That's a long time.”

“You said that's how long it'd take for someone to marry me.”

“I'll marry you now.”

And just like that – the world stops.

April freezes mid-step, her smile falling. Her face feels numb and hot, every part of her body twisting with a sudden rush.

Suddenly she's six, and a boy in her class gave her a flower on the playground, because it was orange like her hair.

She's ten, and her crush just asked her to the school dance when she thought he didn't know she existed.

She's sixteen, and there are two boys fighting over her, and she hates the twisted sort of pride it makes her feel.

She's twenty, and the guy she's been 'casually dating' just told her he loved her.

She's twenty-three, and she's dancing in a barn with her best friend, who she just might be in love with, and she's every April she ever was and ever will be – all at the same time.

The silence stretches forever, but it can't really be more than a few seconds. The chorus isn't over yet when Donnie says:

“Oh my God.”

He pulls away, hands raised in the air like he's suddenly scared to touch her, even though she didn't mind it just a few seconds ago and really, this is not the issue here.

“I-”

“I'm so sorry,” he interrupts, voice fast and panicked. “That was a joke. I promise, I was just kidding, I just didn't think- Shit. I'm sorry-”

“Okay.”

She says it louder than maybe necessary, but she feared that if she didn't – she wouldn't say anything at all.

Donnie brings his hand close to his chest in a nervous gesture, breathing fast. It's so rare to see him so off-balance and upset nowadays, and it makes April feel even more awful.

“I believe you,” she says, because she does.

She wouldn't five years ago, but she does now.

She can see Donnie force his breath to even, but he's not looking at her anymore, and maybe that's the worst part of it all.

They stand there until the song ends, and then April says:

“I need fresh air.”

***

There are picnic tables set up outside the barn, close enough to hear the music but far enough away to keep some privacy in case anyone wanted to have a discreet smoke, or make out, or recover from a possible near cardiac arrest.

April sits on one of them, boots on the bench.

Donnie leans against the other side, the distance painfully noticeable. He didn't even follow her outside until she looked over her shoulder and waved him over, and she supposes she really can't blame him for any of that, as painful as it feels.

She leans her elbows on her knees, resting her chin in her hands. There's not much of a view – mostly green fields and dark sky, but there are more stars here than she ever saw in New York.

“Shame you don't see them much in the city,” she says.

Donnie blinks. He's been chewing on his thumb, visibly distracted, and it takes him a moment to realize what she's talking about.

“Oh. Yeah.” he says. Then: “April, listen, I'm really-”

“Donnie, it's fine,” she interrupts with a sigh. “Sorry I made it weird.”

His mouth draws into a thin line, like he doesn't really believe her but won't argue about it.

But it really is fine.

She knows it was a joke, and that he didn't mean anything by it, and it's her fault because she thought about it a little too hard.

And she got scared.

She got scared that there would be another night like this, where she's warm and safe, and so, so in love, and he will say the same thing, and this time, she'll say yes.

And then nothing will be the same ever again.

She's terrified of it – of losing him again, of making the same mistakes they made when they were kids.

“You're right, by the way,” Donnie says after another quiet moment. “It is a real shame.”

“Yeah.” April reaches down, wrapping one of her shoelaces around her finger, just to keep her hands busy. “Makes you wanna move to a farm.”

“If Leo doesn't have to almost die this time, I'm all in.”

It's the sort of joke that doesn't really make anyone laugh, even after all this time, but it makes it all just a little easier.

April shifts on the table, moving a little closer to Donnie. He doesn't pull away, and she takes that as a good sign.

“I wouldn't, tho,” she confesses. “Move to a farm, I mean. I'd miss it here. Maybe that's why I keep coming back.”

Donnie hums.

“Yeah, I mean,” he shrugs, “I'm glad you're back now. I missed you.”

It's a simple statement, all honest and innocent, and it makes all the blood inside of her veins boil.

Because fucking hell did she miss him.

There was a wall between them after she left, something she started to lay down herself, but it hurt her either way when he put down his own part.

It was for the better, and she believes that even now, no matter how hard it is sometimes. They couldn't be friends, and they couldn't be anything more, and there was a part of her that resented him for it.

She hated feeling like that, like there was nothing she could do other than hurt his feelings or lie to him. There must've been a moment when he realized it, too, because it was never the same after she moved out.

She missed New York and her family, and she came back every month, called every week, texted every day.

They were a group, that little family she carved out for herself – April and her boys. But she only really saw Donnie when they were all together, learned about his life through second-hand remarks.

It was Leo who told her Donnie started to take online classes, that he found a part-time job in some local car repair shop that could never afford him if he actually cared about the money, that there are now people who'd kill for every piece of scrap metal and motherboard his hands ever touched.

If they talked directly, it was brief but never tense, and he'd ask her about that one class she aced, or that professor who insisted she intern for him, or that local newspaper that published her article, and she knew he heard that from Leo, or Casey, or whoever else.

He was hers, and she was his. They all were, in that way only people who lived through and saw the things they did could be.

But she thinks that somewhere along those five years – they stopped being friends.

Leaving opened up a part of her she didn't notice before. They occupied so much of her life – Donnie and Casey, that she never even thought of taking that space for herself, under her own rules.

She dated guys in college; nice boys with pretty smiles and curly hair, who dressed in oversized sweaters and always modified something in their coffee order.

They never stuck, and she never minded.

She finished college like she said she would, and then she came back – like she said she would.

And then Donnie was suddenly there, and everything between them clicked into place, like those rough edges they managed to sand down in the last five years never existed. Like they were always this comfortable next to each other, like they always talked every day and went to dumb festivals, like it was always this easy.

She's not even sure it's really easy now. It doesn't feel like it.

She must be quiet for just a moment too long, because Donnie looks at her. April doesn't know what her face looks like, but it can't be good, because he frowns with worry.

“Sorry?” He says, unsure.

And she's so, so tired of this.

Of all the things she can't say or do, of every day they wasted on not being friends, and every day they're wasting now pretending it's enough.

“I missed you, too,” she says.

She doesn't remember moving closer, but here she is now. The table is tall, and they're almost at the same height. When he looks her in the eyes, it feels like every unsaid word.

“This-” He starts but doesn't finish.

He stands still, like he's scared any wrong move could make her turn and run, and she supposes he's not entirely wrong.

“I hated it,” she confesses. “When we weren't talking.”

It's selfish to say that, because it was exactly what she wanted. What they both needed, maybe.

But Donnie says:

“Me too.”

And it's easy to imagine a world where it was all different.

Where she stayed in New York, and they grew up together, and there wasn't a single moment where she doubted if she even knew him anymore.

“But I needed time,” Donnie says.

And she knows it's true.

Because in the world where she didn't leave – where she never felt that painful blow of understanding she's not the smartest kid in the room, where she never went to house parties and never lost her shoe stumbling her way back to her dorm, where she never cut her bangs in the middle of the night and regretted it by morning – she wouldn't be sitting here right now.

Donnie would be different too, for better or for worse, and he wouldn't be standing in front of her, carefully raising his arm to take her wrist in his hand, squeezing lightly.

His eyes are careful, face drawn, and then he shifts his fingers a little further up.

He's testing the waters, and in a different world – April would pull away.

But she doesn't.

Donnie slides his hand up until he's cradling his elbow, his touch leaving a trail of goosebumps on her forearm.

“I know,” April says. “Me too.”

“I wanted to...” He starts and then stops again, calculating every word. “I wanted to move on.”

“And did you?”

He watches her for a long, careful moment. Then:

“No.” His voice is rough, like it's been a while since he admitted this even to himself. “But it got easier.”

Her dad used to say that 'old love doesn't rust', and she thinks she might finally believe him.

April moves to sit at the edge of the table, letting Donnie rest his hand next to her, their knees touching.

“Yeah,” April says, so quiet it's almost a whisper. “Me neither.”

One moment they're like this, still and quiet, with soft music and laughter coming from far away.

And then the next – she's cradling his face, fingers smoothing over his jawbone, and he has his hands on her hips, firm and grounding, and her head is a buzz of every hidden feeling, every second of doubt, every wasted moment.

When Donnie kisses her, it feels like every orange flower, like every school dance, like every prideful bone in her body, like every 'I love you'.

When April kisses Donnie, it's every corner she carved out for herself, every space she filled up on her own rules, every dance they ever shared, every 'I'll marry you now'.

She thinks she might be dead, or dying, and the only things keeping her alive are Donnie's hands on her hips and his warm breath on her lips, and she pulls away, tilting her head back to laugh, every bone in her body humming.

Donnie laughs too, a quiet and dazed thing, like he's still not really sure what's happening, which is fine, because April doesn't either.

“If I knew, I would've driven you out here a long time ago,” he says, which sounds like a joke but probably isn't.

She leans forward to kiss the side of his neck, his cheek.

“It's not the barn that did it,” she says.

It feels so nice; to finally let herself ignore all the things she can't do, or shouldn't, or any other thing her careful mind has been telling her.

To let herself be selfish, just this once.

To forget everything that happened between them at fifteen, sixteen, nineteen, and remember that this is her friend, one of the bravest people she's ever met, that his eyes light up every time he looks at her, and how much she missed seeing him laugh like this.

She kisses him, short and sweet, before finally saying what's been gathering in the back of her mind for months now.

“I want to give this a shot.” She rubs her thumbs over his cheeks, smoothing over the lines on his face. “It's- I can't help it anymore.”

It's raw and honest, vulnerable in a way she doesn't usually allow herself to be.

Donnie watches her for a moment, eyes wide and red in the dim light.

“Yes,” he says, voice light with something hopeful. “Fuck, yes.”

It all feels a bit unreal, and like she might wake at any moment, or make a wrong move, and it'll all fall apart again.

But she knows it' different this time, because they're different, and she won't let Donnie go, even if it doesn't work out.

She kisses him again, in the middle of a field, with yellow lights and country music all around.

She's twenty-three, there's a moldy apartment and minimum wage internship waiting for her back home, and there's everything she didn't know she needed this bad – right between her hands.

And maybe, for once in her life, she thinks that's enough.

[belle--ofthebrawl]

ROSEMONT NOTES

Is Rain usually so center stage? We had barricade pt 2 (floor seats, row one, dead center, pit benefits w/out pit heat) and he was upfront more than Papa was, I feel. I guess it tracks he would be though, the Ghovie opened up with his ghussy.

Tempest and Cirrus vibing and dancing together, god they're adorable. Tempest suits her so well for me, that woman can BELT out a strong melody so beautifully. She's a whirlwind of a ghoulette.

Rain jerking it (guitar) while his boyfriends touched tips (guitars)

He also jerked off his guitar during Cirice, flung his load somewhere and wiped the rest of it on his face

Pretty sure Papa extended his "take you out back in the lot and fuck you" speech because a woman passed out in the pit and he was stalling to make sure she was okay. She was!

Papa said the venue was pretty small but he'd come back and play a smaller one maybe. (Unholy/Unplugged skeletwour incoming???)

Rain playing with his veil and using it to cover his nose. He also did the infamous knock-kneed bambi headbanging during prime mover.

Perpetua beating his fist to his heart and cradling his belly looking horrified

Yero (year Zero) observation: did a "pretty princess shuffle" when singing about daughters falling and then gestures to himself when singing about sons. No penis helicopter but did do a little snake arm dance.

Aurora and Gale dancing together and tapping each other with their tambourines.

ELIZABETH LIGHTS ARE BEST LIGHTS I ADORE A RED AND BLUE MOMENT ❤️💙

Cirrus danced around the stage waving at everyone before starting her solo compared to Milwaukee where she stalked elegantly over to my side of barrier. I hope security gave her the bracelet I made for her and the one I made for Vanessa.

Umbra flirting is so funny bc Cirrus is so playful and Dew is so serious and standoffish but in a fun way?? Cirrus is teasing him and low key mocking him with her finger wiggles and dancing but they're CLEARLY still flirting and matching energy (AND I PULLED THESE TWO BAD BITCHES IN MKE NO ONE CAN TAKE THAT FROM ME)

Cirrus was also dancing with Aeon at the end of the solo I love how much fun they have.

Alright look, this is my propaganda moment. I don't give a fuck if people hate the name Gale. We get big springtime winds that are simultaneously scary and thrilling because you don't know if they're going to bring a tree down or flip someone's skirt up. Storm seems too one-note and serious. The girls that get it, get it and the girls that don't, don't. I accept any judgement put against me like Galileo being killed by the church for saying the sun was the center. I die with the dignity of a martyr, cast your tomatoes cast your stones.

ANYWAY MOVING ON THEY GOT A PICTURE OF HIS IDLE ANIMATION MID GROWL UGH

Dew only lasted four pumps before the cannon went off, icon behavior.

The crowdwork segment to stall for time as Papa got buckled into the lift is one of my favorite moments I think. The doofy walk up, the shushing, the cheering.

I don't know how someone manages to make playing a cowbell hot but Aurora does it. Queen.

Dew kicked his fingers and went for Papa's ass before squammer and did an air grab

Papa said Dew was going to shove that kick ass boot up all of our asses.

And this last bit is just a personal one but I tend to flash the asl for 'I love you' 🤟 a lot because it's so similar to the horns and it's true, I love them. I'm pretty sure Gale saw and returned it because at the very end when they were waving goodbye, he put his fists together with the pinky and index and thumb extended, thumbs touching to make a double 🤟. Did he see and return it because he knows ASL?? Was I delusional and he was just flashing horns? But his hands were too far apart and I SWEAR those thumbs were extended. I will chose to believe he did.

[thistlerock]

ur latest posts have pointed out an underrated aspect of fabian and riz’s relationship which is that for all of freshman year it was not super nice. in junior year we see him be a social coward which is such a realistic depiction of a teenage boy

Oh oh yes!! That's one of my favourite things to talk about ngl

Freshman year Fabian? Kind of a shitty friend! Specifically to Riz! Like sure he TRIES but he's not that great. Beginning of Sophomore year too. He's an insecure shitty teenager which I think is pretty important and normal, and on top of that he's living in his father's shadow and desperately trying to be something he isn't and that something can't openly be best friends with a nerd loser like Riz. He first has to work through his own shit and learn to love himself for being himself rather than loving himself for being his parents' (mostly his father's son) before he can have healthy relationships with other people. Which like, makes sense. That's how it goes. I like to think that he happily wears the best friend necklace after fhsy :)

I also don't think junior year Riz would put up with the kind of friendship he had with Fabian initially because he's learned to take up more space socially and demand recognition more boldly. They all kind of grew, which is of course expected irl and from normal stories but was still a pleasant surprise at least to me coming from dnd characters.

But then they're still not perfect. Fabian is still some kid with a lot of insecurities (that he refuses to acknowledge) and no parental support or guidance absolutely fumbling any social interaction outside of his pre-established (safe easy and familiar) circle of friends. I find it really interesting how bad Fabian actually seems to be at talking to other people as soon as he isn't falling back on "I'm Bill Seacaster's son" anymore. Since he went adventuring w/ his father before going to school the implication is that he literally did not have regular contact with anyone his age before going to Highschool. I think Fabian wasn't properly socialised as a kid and it shows, he only has experience talking to his surrogate mother maid, his insane father, the servants who appease him at every corner, adult pirates, and maybe his actual mother but then again she seems to be. Neglectful. So it's not like he spent that much time with Hallariel. This kid straight up doesn't know how to talk to other kids or make friends in freshman year. So you can't even really blame him for sucking that bad lol.

I think there's a lot of interactions every day that he halfway fumbles and if like. Gorgug said the same thing people would be weirded out but Fabian is very charismatic (both literally as in stats wise and just from how Lou plays him) so he gets away with it. I think Mazey is a good example because he comes across as "endearing cringe failure" when he talks to her but out of someone else's mouth the vibes might be worse. She literally tries to kiss him because he's stumbling over his words and she pities him bc she thinks he's nervous lmao

Speaking of Mazey. Social cowardice yeah! Then he hurts people's feelings and he goes along with things he doesn't actually want and he realises that sucked and tries his very best to make up for it. He's a good guy! And it's nice to see because I think a younger Fabian would have simply refused to see that he was in the wrong for running after the pretty mean elven lady and abandoning all rationale (COUGHSAELWYN COUGH COUGH) so uhm yeah Fabian being a shitty teenager who needs to better himself and learn how to actually be a good friend is very important to me and I like keeping it in mind when talking about him👍👍👍 sorry this turned into a ramble he's my favourite guy

[ovaryacted]

moreee about jack abbott and aftercare please 🚬🐤

─ Jack Abbot x fem! reader || WC: 1.1k

CW: Mentions of past smut. Soft dom! Jack Abbot. Post-coitus aftercare. Subspace if you squint. Loving affection. Use of pet names (sweetheart, baby, kid). Mentions of Jack Abbot's leg stump. Jack Abbot being the best partner ever.

I meant to post this the other day but I waited a little bit. I absolutely LOVE how you're using the duck emoji combos, please keep using it! (even though that's a chick, I'm sure, but idgaf!). But yes god I think Jack would be soooo good with aftercare no matter what he does. He definitely gives me pleasure dom vibes, he gets off on your pleasure, and really knows how to drag it out and give you a run for your money. This also turned into an analysis of aftercare on both ends, because Jack deserves to know he's being cared for & loved too.

He's the kinda man that will give you exactly what you need, the right pressure, the right force, the right touch. Thing is, he's consistent, patient, steady...he keeps you close to him and talks you through your climaxes every single time, and yes he always tends to give you more than one orgasm if your body can handle it. That becomes a standard in your relationship very early on, and he won’t let you take anything less than that. Whether it be from his mouth, his fingers, his cock, or even your toys, you always come first, and he'll fill you up in any way you need and ask.

As for the aftercare, Jack grounds you, brings you back down to Earth after turning your mind and body to mush. His large hands caress over your shaking legs, rubbing into your skin and skimming over the new bruises and marks that will bloom in the morning. He doesn't pull out just yet, he keeps himself inside your cunt until your body is done flexing around him, until you’re finally relaxed enough for him to give your body a proper break. He hovers over you, gently kissing your jaw and cheek, lightly pecking the corner of your mouth as he wraps his big arms around you and keeps you close.

"Cmon, sweetheart. Come back to me, I'm right here."

He's so good, so patient. Jack watches your face carefully for any signs of discomfort, attentive to the way your eyes are still rolling to the back of your head. He cups your hand to rub his thumb over your jaw in a swiping motion, brushing your hair out of your sweaty face. You lean into the touch, humming lowly as you swim through the residual high of your climaxes, your body melting into the mattress, trying to steady your breathing through your nose with every pass of Jack's hands on your cheekbone.

"Don't fall asleep on me just yet, baby. Need to get you cleaned up."

A whine punches out of you then, limp legs wrapping tighter around Jack's waist in defiance. He knows you can fall asleep like this, with his cock still nestled inside you. You actually prefer it sometimes, but he knows how uncomfortable you'll be if you were sticky and covered with sweat. 

"You gotta let me go so we can head to bed. C'mon, kid. The sooner you let me pull out, the faster you'll be asleep, yeah?"

You reluctantly peel your legs off of him, reciprocating his soft kiss and whimpering when Jack moves to pull his softening cock out of you, sighing in relief from the change in pressure. He doesn't mention how his spend dribbles out of you, your slick walls flexing to keep most of it inside.

Sometimes if you really don't have the energy to move or get up, he'll use the wipes specifically for your post-coitus sessions in the bedside drawer and clean you up that way, carefully making sure your lower body was all taken care of.

Other times, he'll bring you to your feet and guide you over to the bathroom and use a crutch to keep himself steady, letting you pee while he starts the shower at the temperature you liked. Jack will join you under the warm spray, running his hands over your body with reverent affection and starts rinsing you off, using the calming lavender body wash to put you at ease. You don't mind him sitting on the built-in shower stool, laughing at the ticklish sensation of his hands rubbing down your waist and your twitching legs. With some of the remaining energy you had left, you also rinse Jack off with your body wash, running your hands through his hair and washing his scalp for the night, making sure he’s all cleaned up just like you.

Afterwards, you help each other wind down for the night, Jack sitting on the toilet seat and massaging body oil and lotion into your sore limbs, making sure to really knead into your body and release any knots and remaining tension. He doesn't miss an inch of skin, moisturizing your thighs, breasts, your back, and down your arms. Jack dresses you in one of his baggy t-shirts, not bothering to bring you panties, figuring it would be more comfortable to just let your body breathe with no restricting material.

He throws on some boxers after you mimic his previous action and moisturize his body, placing light kisses here and there, giggling to yourself in between every smooch. You also help massage Jack’s stump if he absolutely needs it, putting whatever necessary skin care he used to protect the skin where it was the most sensitive. You’ll do it with a smile and without question, and his kiss after you’re done is all the thanks you needed to hear from him.

If you were hungry, he'd whip you a snack to eat really quick before you went to sleep for either the full night or just a nap. But if all you wanted to do was close your eyes, he'd simply tell you to brush your teeth as he gets the bed all prepped for you. You flop into the mattress, now with clean fresh sheets thanks to Jack changing them. Your eyes flutter closed instantly, bringing the covers up to your waist and sleeping on your stomach, digging your face into your pillow.

You only mumble a curt "love you" before you doze off, your breathing even and deep as you go to the land of dreams. And Jack? He smiles in the dim lighting of your shared bedroom, kissing your forehead and your nose, whispering those three words back to you, silently hoping they would follow you wherever your happy place was. He stays up a little longer just looking at you, admiring you, thanking whatever prayer he said to have you in his life. He brings you into his arms and positions your head against his chest, feeling you nuzzle closer into him and chase his warmth.

He falls asleep like that with your body against his, cradling the back of your neck and caressing your nape over and over again. With one more kiss to your temple, he breathes you in, answering the call of sleep and keeping in mind to make breakfast for you in the morning.

©️ ovaryacted 2025. Please don’t repost, copy, translate, or feed into any AI. Support your fellow creators by reblogging, commenting, and liking!

[immaqulate]

stay inside | c.s

— chris sturniolo x fem! reader

— warnings: smut, suggestive, intense sexual tension, possessive language, breeding kink (implied), soft dominance vibes, lots of touching and begging

you wear his shirt, he wants to wear you out.

requested by anon! | word count: 614 | proofread by @blushsturns | part 2 here

You weren't expecting him to follow you into the bedroom that fast, but maybe you should've known better.

You'd barely turned on the lamp, that soft, golden one on the nightstand when you felt him behind you. The door shut with a click. You heard the sound of his rings clink as he pulled them off and set them on the dresser, slowly. deliberate, like he was preparing.

"That shirt's real short on you, baby," Chris rasped behind you, voice wrecked from the night, low and hot in your ear. "That for me?"

You turned slowly, the oversized tee barely grazing your thighs. It was his, obviously, grey, worn in, with a faded logo and a neckline stretched from how often you tugged on it over your head when you miss him. But he'd never seen it like this. Not with you hair messy, your thighs bare, or your eyes asking for trouble.

Chris steps closer. "You know what that does to me?" He took your face gently in his hands, thumbs dragging over your cheekbones. His gaze burned right through you. "You don't even have to say anything. You look at me like that, and I lose my fucking mind"

You barely whispered his name before he kissed you, deep, slow, his body already pressing you back towards the bed. He kissed like he was telling a secret, like the more his mouth moved against yours, the more you'd understand just how far gone he was for you.

You were breathless when you hit the mattress. He pulled back just long enough to look at you, sprawled, flushed, chest rising and falling beneath that shirt and smirked. "Bet you already know what I'm thinking."

His hand slid down, dragging the hem of the shirt up over your hips. "I wanna take my time with you tonight." His thumbs brushed your inner thigh just enough to make you twitch. "I wanna feel you. Every inch.. And then?" His lips were at your ear again when he says. "I wanna stay." Your legs clenched.

"I wanna bury myself into you so deep, baby, you don't forget what I feel like for days"

He kissed you again, slower this time, groaning into your mouth when your hips arched into his touch. He guided his hand down to where you needed him most, palm resting there, possessive and warm.

"So wet already," he murmured, like it hurt him. "You don't even know what you're doing to me, huh?"

You whimpered when he pressed down ever so slightly. His hand was big, his grip even firmer, but he was still waiting. Still making you wait.

"I know you want it. You're not fooling me" Chris kissed your collarbone now, mouthing at your skin like he was leaving a trail of silent promises. "Tell me you want it, princess."

"Want what?" you whispered, teasing even as your thighs trembled.

His laugh was soft, yet dangerous. "You know" He pulled back to meet your gaze, eyes dark and unrelenting. "You want me to fill you."

Your breath hitched. "Don't you?" His thumb rubbed slow, dangerous circles on your inner thigh. "Want me to stay in you. Want me to make sure it takes."

You could barely breathe. He kissed you again, rougher this time. His voice in your ear made your whole body burn. "One day, Baby," he whispered, "I'm gonna give it to you. I'm gonna fill you so deep you'll feel me for weeks. Gonna watch you swell with me. Watch you carry what we made"

You whimpered again, nails digging into his arms. He groaned into your skin. "Say the word, and I'll make it happen tonight."

this fun was so fun to write! reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated ❤️ if you have any requests please submit them to my inbox! love you all, thanks

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[sturnsdarling]

'just need t'feel you around me'

part two of 'are you still awake?', Chris cant keep his hands off y/n once they make amends after an argument.

vibe check: pure SMUT, needy!chris, bigdick!chris, spooning position, sleepy!reader, needy!reader, 'skip the foreplay' type sex, all that good shit you get the vibes, falling asleep with it inside after sex (I wont tell you to wrap it but i will tell you to GO FOR A PISS AFTER YOU FUCK YOU DON'T WANT A UTI)

1.1k words

A/N: thankyou for all the love on part one hehe. soft and needy chris makes my toes curl like i'm biting the pillow as we speak. also you just know that chris is chatty as fuck during sex, kid loves the stimulation that comes with dirty talk so this is very verbal lol i hope you guys don't mind

love and cigs, merc

...."I jus' need t'feel you around me" Chris whispered, pulling his stiff length from his black boxers and pumping himself slightly into the curve of your ass.

You whined tiredly, the soft pressure of his leaking tip against your fleshy skin making you somewhat desperate, despite how adamant you were on Chris 'doing all the work'

Chris chuckled at your needy whines, "you still tired, ma?", he said, as he stroked his cock along your wet and puffy folds, collecting all your juices on his tip.

"mhm" you whimpered, stretching slightly and arching your back into him, the tip of his cock pressing into your hole ever so slightly with your movement.

Chris sucked the air around him in through his teeth, the very brief sensation of your sopping hole around him making him feel a little lightheaded. He pushed his cock between your folds, letting it push through them and into the soft skin of your thighs as they pressed together, palming the flesh of your ass with bruising pressure as he pulled your cheeks apart, edging his thumb painfully close to your core.

"so wet f'me and I ain't even touched you" He said in a low hum, a cheesy smirk forming on his face as he dipped his thumb into your pussy.

Your whole body shifted at the sensation, arching back into him even more as he ducked an arm in between you and the bed, wrapping it up and round you, taking a handful of your tit in his hand.

"mphm, Chris" you whined softly into the plush white pillow.

"hmm, I love it when you're all sleepy like this, baby, s'soft n' sexy" He said, peppering wet kisses along the curve of your shoulder and up to bite softly at your earlobe as he continued to tease your hole with slow thrusts between your folds.

"need you, Chris" you said through a whimper.

"m'right here, ma, what d'you need from me, huh? tell me" He whispered in your ear, a cheshire cats smile spread across his face as he felt you begin to push back onto his hips, his cock growing painfully hard as it leaked pre-cum over the soft, fleshy skin of your thighs.

"need you t'stretch me out, Chris, please" you brought your arm round behind you and raked your fingers though his hair, tugging at the root slightly.

A low and gravelly moan left Chris' throat and, with your begging, he was a desperate mess. He pulled his hips back from your ass, lining himself up with your glistening hole, his hand still gripping your ass and the other rubbing and pinching at your hardened nipple. He pressed his throbbing tip inside of your gummy walls, the sensation of you immediately clenching around him causing him to instinctively buck into you, bottoming out instantly.

A pornographic whine left your throat as Chris' teeth clenched around your shoulder, the sting of his cock stretching you out coupled with the warm pressure of his tongue, soothing over the mark forming on your shoulder made your eyes roll to the back of your head.

Chris' pumped in and out of you at an agonising pace, pulling out almost completely only to be sucked back in by your clenching, sopping hole.

"christ, baby, y'so fuckin tight around me" He moaned, pulling at the flesh of your ass before slapping the skin lightly.

You tugged harder on his hair, and he pushed his hand up and over your hip, dipping his long fingers down to find your puffy clit as he kept his agonising pace, fucking into you desperately slow.

He rubbed slow circles over your clit, your head hanging back on its hinge into his warm chest, a soft moan leaving your open mouth.

"thats it, jus' feel it baby, you feel so fuckin' good, so fuckin' good" He whispered gentle praises into your ear as he fucked into you, the pressure of his fingers against your clit making your whole body tingle.

All you could do was moan in response, your vision going blurry as your high was fast approaching, a familiar knot forming in your stomach as you clenched harder around Chris' cock.

"I never wanna fight with you again, princess, love ya too much to ever make you wanna go to bed without me ever again" He pressed warm, open mouth kisses along the side and back of your neck.

"I love you too, Chris, s'much" you whimpered.

Chris near enough growled into your ear at the sound of you telling him you love him, as if he hadn't heard it a thousand times. He picked up his pace slightly, fucking into you harder as he rubbed steady circles around your clit.

"tell me again, baby, tell me you love me, please"

"I love you, Chris" you moaned out, his faster pace bringing out closer and closer to your release.

"mphm, keep saying it, I love it when you say it" he grunted into your skin, chasing his own high now.

"fuck, I love you" your thighs started to shake as your stomach tensed completely, the act of telling him you love him as he desperately fucks into you only serving to turn you on more.

"oh shit, y'gonna make me cum, cum with me please, ma, cum all over my dick" Chris' hips began to stutter against your ass.

As if it was a reflex, Chris telling you to cum did exactly that, and your whole body shook in his grip as you released sticky hot cum all over his length, the juices forming a white ring around his base. "I love you, I love you, I love you" you whimpered out, clenching around him like a vice as you came.

"I love you more, princess, I lov-" Chris' words were cut off by a guttural moan as he came inside of you, his long threads of white cum painting your insides.

He stuttered into you, using his cum as lube as he rode out his high, unable to pull himself from you, desperate for the warmth your wet pussy provided.

Soft moans filled his room as he came to a halt, resting his head down onto your shoulder as you caressed his tousled hair.

"might jus' stay like this for a little longer, don't think i've had enough a'you yet" Chris said, bringing his arm up and pulling you into him, locking around you as he nestled his hips into your ass.

You let out a tired chuckle, nodding and curling back into him. Chris' warm skin pressed against yours, coupled with his tight grip around you lulled you to sleep almost instantly, and Chris wasn't far behind. You fell asleep like that, wrapped up in each other with his dick still tucked snug between your walls.

Even though arguing with Chris was horrible, the make-up sex was always worth it.

taglist: @sturniozalt@mattslolita@shaquilles-0atmeal@blahbel668@sleepysturniolo@le4hsblog @sarosfilms @joemamaaa42069 @2muchofaslvt @seluky10

[zoro-sremedy]

I NEED A HERO!

I'm holding out for a hero 'til the end of the night He's gotta be strong, and he's gotta be fast And he's gotta be fresh from the fight!

Synopsis. Your vibrator died and are in dear need of a rescue.

Including. Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Toji, Sukuna, Megumi, Yuji.

Risk assessment 18+ mdni, smut and crack, stablished relationship, reader is unprotected, spanking, backshots, missionary, prone bone, mating press, soft dom/dom vibes.

HOLDING OUT FOR A HERO 'TIL THE END OF THE NIGHT! SMAU that started this drabble if you wanna read it.

GETO SUGURU—"YOU DON'T NEED ANYTHING ELSE"

It started with a joke. The amused little smirk he gave you.

Then came the silence—that heavy kind, thick and knowing.

And now?

You're beneath him. Completely. Bent in half, legs folded up towards your chest, arms pinned gently above your head by his hand as he sinks into you for what has to be the hundredth time tonight.

"You poor thing," Geto murmurs, voice warm but sharp at the edge, like silk over steel. "You thought a toy could give you this?"

You try to answer, but you're already moaning—body melting under him, trembling from how deep he reaches. His strokes are slow, controlled, focused—designed to unravel you piece by piece.

"That little thing just buzzed at your clit, didn't it?" he goes on, kissing your jaw, your neck, your clavicle with unbearable patience. "Didn't touch your cervix. Didn't make you cry. Didn't tell you how beautiful you are like this?"

He thrusts deeper—you feel it, that weight pressing down where it aches, where you're soft and needy and desperate for him.

Your hands clench. He tightens his grip on your wrists.

"No, angel. Look at me."

You do.

His purple eyes lock on yours—glowing a little, even in the low light, like they're drinking you in.

"That toy doesn't know how to kiss you while you fall apart," he says, voice velvet-soft. "Doesn't know how you look when you're about to come. Doesn't know what your body begs for."

You gasp, head tilting back as he angles his hips just right—finding that devastating rhythm, again and again. You feel yourself spiraling.

And Geto leans down, forehead against yours, voice just above a whisper:

"I know."

You come. Hard. With a broken cry, tears at the corners of your eyes, chest heaving beneath him. And still—he doesn't stop.

His thrusts grow tighter, rougher, more desperate. You feel the warmth of his breath on your cheek as he groans, "That's it, just like that. Take it, love. Take everything."

When he comes, it's with a soft moan against your lips and a deep grind into your hips, holding you there, filling you to the brim.

He doesn't pull out.

Instead, he shifts, kisses your collarbone, and murmurs:

"Now stay. Let it sink in."

You're breathless. Blinking.

He chuckles softly and presses his palm on your lower belly.

"I want you to feel me for hours. I want you to leak me tomorrow. Let everyone wonder why you're walking so slow."

You whimper, and he kisses your temple sweetly, like didn't just rearrange your soul.

"I'll burn that vibrator later," he adds, smirking into your skin. "For your own good."

GOJO SATORU—"YOU THOUGHT THAT COULD REPLACE ME"

At the end, the filthy little thing abandoned you! How dare it! And after Satoru's threat, you didn't want to risk being edged to madness. So, you actually decided to have a cold shower instead.

You're getting some water when the door slams open.

"Satoru—?!"

"Don't you Satoru me," he growls, strides hitting up the hallway. "You really sent that text and thought I'd stay home?"

He's in front of you before you can blink—shirt half-tucked, pupils blown wide, lips twisted into something between a smirk and a warning.

"I was joking," you whisper, already breathless as he cages you in against the kitchen counter. "I didn't think—"

"Didn't think?" he repeats, jaw ticking. "Didn't think before announcing you were out here mourning a fucking vibrator like your pussy doesn't belong to me?

You whimper.

His hand slides down, fast and firm, slipping beneath your shorts. He finds you embarrassingly wet and groans low, head dropping to your neck.

"God, you are sorry, aren't you?" he murmurs against your throat. "Dripping like this. Practically begging to be punished?"

You nod. "I didn't mean it—please, I'm sorry. I should've waited for you. I need you."

"Oh, baby," he hums, dragging your soaked panties down with one hand while the other lifts you onto the counter. "You do need me. You just forgot what it's like to be ruined."

He doesn't bother undressing fully—just yanks himself out, strokes one, twice and then he's there, thick and hot into you like he owns the space between your legs.

(He does.)

When he thrusts in, you sob.

"Yeah?" he moans. "That feel like something your silly little toy could do? Can it make you back your arch like that? Can it grab your thighs like this while you cream all over it?

Your nails dig into his shoulder as he fucks you deep, relentless. One hand finds your throat—no choke, just holding—and he leans close, breathless against your lips.

"Say it."

You blink up at him, dizzy. "Say… what?"

"That you're mine," he pants. "That no battery-operated piece of plastic could ever make you feel this way."

"I'm yours," you gasp." Only yours—fuck, Satoru—please, don't stop, I'm—"

You melt around him, trembling and slick, and he groans loud as he spills into you, hips jerking, forehead pressed to yours.

When it's over, he doesn't pull away. Just holds you there, still full of him, smirking like the bastard he is.

"Good girl," he murmurs. "Now… next time you even joke about needing a replacement—just remember who shows up ready to break the bed.

You nod, limp and blissed-out. And he—grinning like the madman he is—adds:

"I'm still bringing back up. Just in case. Y'know. Double homicide."

NANAMI KENTO—"YOU SHOULD'VE WAITED FOR ME"

You should've known better than to text him that.

The moment Nanami steps through the door—tie loosened, jacket discarded, sleeve rolled to his elbows—there's something dangerous in his gaze. Something quiet, simmering. All the more terrifying than yelling.

"I see I failed you," he says, setting down his briefcase. His voice is calm. Too calm. "To make you feel so neglected… you considered outsourcing my job."

Your breath stutters as he approaches, undoing the top button of his dress shirt, eyes fixed on you like you're both a problem and the solution.

"Kento, I was just—"

"Joking?" he murmurs, stepping between your knees as you sit on the edge of the bed. His large palm slides up your thigh, warm, adoring. "Darling, you know better than to joke about things like that."

You open your mouth to protest again, but the way he tugs your panties down in one fluid motion tells you talking isn't part of the plan.

He kneels in front of you—his hands still gentle, always gentle—but his mouth? His tongue?

That is punishment.

By the time he rises again, your legs are shaking, your voice wrecked from the begging. And he's not even undone his belt yet.

"Now," he murmurs, brushing your hair back, kissing your temple. "You're going to apologize properly."

He turns you over onto your stomach, pressing a soft kiss between your shoulder blades before he pulls your hips up, spine arching under his guidance. He lines himself up, slow and reverent, like he's not about to break you from the inside out.

And when he pushes in—fully, deeply, thickly—you cry out his name like a confession.

His hands are firm on your waist. His pace is steady, precise, measured—the way he approaches everything else  in life. But his voice, oh, his voice…

"I never want to hear about batteries," he growls into your ear. "I never want you to think there's something that could replace me. You want pleasure? You wait. You wait for your man."

You nod, blubbering, barely able to speak through the way he hits you just right.

"And when I come home from a long day," he pants, pace finally stuttering, "I want to find you right here—warm ,ready, aching—like the good girl you are."

He fucks you through your orgasm like it's his duty. When he finishes inside you with a soft moan of your name, he stays pressed to your back, kissing your shoulder softly, breathing hard against your skin.

"I'll always take care of you," he murmurs, voice hoarse. "No substitute. Ever."

You nod, blissed out and dazed, a sleepy smile curling your lips.

And he, ever the gentlemen, tucks you in the whisper:

"You're mine. And I take my responsibilities seriously."

FUSHIGURO TOJI—"BATTERY-OPERATED? CUTE"

You did wait. The last thing you needed was Toji edging you to your next life. Because he would, even more after you apparently offended him with the use of your pathetic little toy, or so he said.

"You what?"

His voice is flat. Unimpressed. He's tossing your vibrator between his fingers like it's a joke—a sad little toy he plucked from your drawer the second he walked in and saw the way you looked at him: guilty. Needy. Ruined before he even touched you.

"I—It died," you mumble, cheeks hot. "I was just—I wasn't gonna finish—"

"Oh, you weren't? he laughs, full-bellied and sharp. "Could've fooled me. Look at you. So fuckin' desperate you pulled this pathetic thing out like it'd satisfy you?"

He tosses it aside like trash and stalks towards the bed.

"You really think something like that could do what I do?" His shirt is already done, his belt undone—and there's that familiar glint in his eyes: wicked, ravenous. Mean.

By the time he's got you on your stomach, ass in the air, his hands are already spreading your thighs like he owns them.

"Should've waited for me, baby," he says, leaning over your back, tip of his cock dragging between your folds. "Now I gotta show you—again—what the real thing feels like."

The first thrust knocks the breath out of you.

He's thick. Deep. Filling you in a way that makes your eyes roll and brain empty. There's no buildup—just Toji, slamming into you like you owe him something. Like this is a lesson you need to learn.

"You feel that?" he grunts, hand wrapped around your throat, pulling you up just enough to hear your whimpers. "You think some battery-powered piece of plastic could fuck you this deep?"

He slaps your ass, watches it bounce. His thrusts are brutal, unrelenting. You're already clenching, already gasping—and he's just getting started.

"Say it," a low, hungry sound leaving that pretty face of his. "Say you're sorry for trying to replace me."

"I'm—fuck—sorry," you cry, barely able to breathe. "It's not the same, I swear—"

"Damn right it's not the same," he snarls, grabbing your hips tighter, driving into you so hard the headboard cracks. "You're mine. This pussy's mine. Don't you ever forget that again."

Your orgasm hits like a freight train—unexpected, unstoppable—and he doesn't let up. He keeps going, even when your legs shake, even when you sob his name like a prayer.

By the time he's done, his cum is dripping from between your thighs, you're brain's barely functioning.

And still, he leans down, kisses your shoulder, voice low and smug.

"Don't worry, sweetheart," he purrs, "I'll buy you a new one."

A beat. A smirk.

"Just so I can break it again."

RYOMEN SUKUNA—"IMPUDENT LITTLE THING"

His throne room is dim and gold-drenched, heat coiling in the air like smoke.

You hadn't even meant to tell him about the broke thing—the poor, dead vibrator now tucked in the bottom of your drawer—but he felt it the second he returned. Felt your body still humming with frustration, with denial. With betrayal.

"You toyed with yourself," Sukuna murmurs, voice like velvet over glass. "In my absence. With that?" You flinch under his gaze. His four eyes burn with quiet disdain, like he's looking at something pitiful—a servant that disobeyed. A possession that misbehaved.

"Sukuna, I didn't mean—"

"You did not wait for me." He steps down from the throne, barefoot and lethal. "And you expect leniency?"

-

The broken vibrator is on the nightstand of his chamber, like a criminal caught in the act. Sukuna sees it. Picks it up. Smirks.

"Pathetic little thing." Hi s voice is thick with amusement and venom as he lets it fall with a dull thunk on the floor. Then he turns to you—already bare, already flushed, knees pressed together nervously on his bed.

He's quiet for a beat.

Then he's on you.

One hand wraps around your ankle, dragging you flat onto your back like a prey. His body covers yours in an instant—massive, solid, terrifying—all ancient muscle and cruel intention. He grabs your thighs, shoves them open, wide enough to ache, and settles between them like a god claiming tribute.

"Let's see what kind of mess that toy made," he murmurs, running two fingers through your folds. You're embarrassingly soaked. "Tch. You're still this wet for me?"

You gasp, but he doesn't wait. He lines himself up—thick, heavy, perfect—and slides in deep in one brutal, punishing stroke.

Your back arches of the. He growls, low and guttural.

"That's it," Sukuna hisses, pressing down until you're completely folded under him, legs hooked over his shoulders, hips pinned. "Look at me."

You're trembling. There's nowhere to hide. His four crimson eyes stare down at you, devouring every twitch, every moan, every time your lashes flutter.

"Is this what you need? A fake little buzz, or this—my cock kissing your womb like it belongs there?"

He starts to move—slowly at first, but each thrust grows more intense. More deliberate. He rolls his hips to grind impossibly deep, relishing the way you gasp with each stroke, they way your hands claw helplessly at his arms.

"You'll take every inch," he grunts. "Every drop."

One hand slides to your belly, pressing down—you feel the bulge of him inside you, obscene and undeniable.

"Look at how deep I am. That toy never even made it past your entrance."

You whimper, lost in him. He smirks.

"That's right. Whimper for me. Let that ruined cunt remember what real pleasure feels like."

And then he snaps his hips.

Again. And again.

You come—not once, but twice—sobbing his name, thighs trembling against his shoulders, body a trembling mess beneath him. And still he doesn't stop.

"One more," he growls. "You're gonna come again—with my cock inside, and my name in your throat."

You do.

And he follows.

Sukuna spills inside you with a low, possessive groan, burying himself to the hilt. You feel full—thick warmth flooding you until it leaks around his cock, dripping down your thighs.

When he finally lets your leg down, he doesn't pull out.

He lays on top of you—heavy, warmth and possessive—cock still buried deep.

"You'll stay like this," he murmurs against your ear. "So every time you walk, you feel me leaking out."

And with a final, smug chuckle, he adds:

"Try replacing that, little one."

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI—"EMERGENCY RELIEF"

You barely make it to the bed before he's pressing you down, lips grazing your cheek with a quiet, unimpressed sigh.

"You couldn't wait for me?" he murmurs against your skin.

You whimper a weak sorry—but he's already there, behind you, hand curling under your thigh to lift your leg over his hip, cock slowly sliding into you from behind, inch by deliberate inch.

"I'm here now,' he says quietly. "So stop fidgeting."

You nod, biting your lip as he sinks in deep, so deep you swear you can feel him in your chest. The room is dim and quiet, his chest warm against your back, his arm beneath your head holding you still like you're made of something precious.

He doesn't thrust hard. He rolls into you. Every deep, slow stroke is maddening—filling, soothing, wrecking.

"You couldn't wait, so now you're going to take your time," he says against your shoulder. "That toy couldn't do this."

You can't even argue. You're too full, too breathless, the angle of your leg letting him reach everything inside you that makes your spine arch and your eyes flutter.

His hand slips between your thighs, thumb circling your clit in lazy, knowing motions.

He kisses your neck softly.

"Always so needy," he murmurs. "But this is what you wanted, wasn't it?"

You nod fast, moaning quietly, trying to hold back the sounds that bubble up.

"'Gumi—please—"

"You're lucky I miss you," he says, voice low, almost smiling as he slows down even more, just to hear the whimper in your throat. "Because otherwise, I would've let you suffer for teasing me like that."

When you come, it's not loud—it's devastating. Your whole body tenses, then melts into him, sobbing as you fall apart, clenching around him like you're trying to keep him forever.

He follows soon after, a groan into your shoulder as he spills deep, still inside you, staying exactly where you both want him.

You're both quiet for a while.

His hand strokes along your side, his breathing slow.

Then, a quiet murmur:

"Throw that thing away."

You laugh, exhausted. "Yes, sir."

ITADORI YUJI—"PUT ME IN COACH"

"Okay—" he pants, sweat dripping down his temple as he presses deeper into you, "—you're gonna have to say if it's too much, 'kay?"

You laugh, gasping as his hips meet your ass again, thick cock hitting just the right spot. "You're literally apologizing while wrecking me."

"Wha—I'm not wrecking you," Yuji huffs, offended. "I'm being gentle!"

You look over your shoulder, barely managing a smirk. "Baby, you're flatting me against the bed and whispering sweet nothings while my face is in a pillow."

He whines—actually whines—and leans over you, punishing, pushing you deeper in the prone bone position, his broad chest on your back, lips at your ear.

"I'm just—trying to make it good for you," he mumbles, hips stuttering when you clench around him. "Better than your toy."

You giggle, breath shaky. "You're jealous of my vibrator."

He groans. "You named it."

"I name everything!"

"I heard you say 'he never lets me down' with a smile," he mutters into your neck.

"And yet—" you moan as he grinds into you slow and deep, making your legs shake, "—here I am, flat on my stomach, absolutely owned."

Yuji moans again, like it physically affects him. "Yeah? Say it louder."

"You're better," you whisper, breath hitching as his thrusts quicken, muscles flexing above you. "So much better, Yuji—oh my god—"

His arm wraps around your waist, holding you tighter. "Good. Because I'm not stopping until you forget his name."

He means it, too. He's panting, flushed, focused completely on your pleasure. Every roll of his hips is desperate, not for release, but to feel you fall apart beneath him. When you come, he nearly cries, whispering "that's it, that's my girl," over and over like a prayer.

And even after, when your legs are shaking and you're practically sobbing into the sheets, he's still kidding you back, asking if you're okay, offering water—

Right before he says:

"… so, we are throwing him out, right?"

[bluem1lls]

hii, could you write a one-shot where se-mi fucks fem reader after an argument/angry? like including really rough sex, degradation, hair pulling, a strap, etc, anything you feel comfortable with. im sorry if this is too horny this is my ovulation week 💔

✧₊⁺ but you belong to me

se-mi x fem!reader

authors note: so clearly, this is very much headcanon shdjdjj i tried mixing both together and this came out! thank you so much to both for the request and i hope u like it!

✦ synopsis: you're so in love with your best friend that is not really a surprise when you two fight because she wants to hookup with a random girl.

but as she sees you sitting next to nam-gyu, talking so close, she needs to show you who you belong to.

content: minors dni, best friends to lovers, jealous se-mi (AAAA), smut, strap on, dom!se-mi x sub! reader, bathroom sex, fingering/oral (r!receiving), slight choking and degradation, hair pulling

i can't believe my anger lead me to this pathetic path.

sitting here, with nam-gyu. that's like... as low as you can get.

"why are you here, doll?" he says, staring at me. "like, don't get me wrong, i'm happy that you decided i'm the best option to hang out but... don't you have a little bodyguard that you're always with?"

i frown as i stare at a blank point. "she decided it's best to go fuck a random girl than staying with her best friend"

se-mi and i have been best friends since senior year from high school. we did everything together, that even lead to eachother being our first kiss for example, but we always said it was a way to experiment, for when the real time comes.

of course, that didn't stopped me from falling for my best friend.

so when we met this new waitress at our usual coffee shop that couldn't stop poiting "how pretty se-mi's piercings are", i didn't liked her.

i was hugging se-mi, feeling cold and confused as she broke our hug to chat with a random girl. random! girl!

that's was so mean of her.

i mean, she has no idea of the feelings i have for her but... she can't be that blind?

right?

so, that lead to us fighting at se-mi's house afterwards, where we were having the last hangout of the year with our group and a few others.

the 'fight' being me telling her how much i didn't liked this new girl as she replied by scoffing and rolling her eyes.

like always.

that brings me to present time. where, the party has already started. i can see se-mi talking and laughing with this girl (she even invited her, i can't believe it!) while im sitting next to nam-gyu, a boy who i know she really fucking hates but just got used to his presence because we're in the same friend group.

"i think the word you're looking for is jealous" he keeps with the conversation. he chuckles as i stare at him like he was insane.

"don't say that. i'm not jealous. i just think it's stupid that i tell her 'oh hey don't hook up with her, she gives me bad vibes' and she still goes for it!" i tell him gesturing with my hands, getting angry all over again.

"you're too pretty to be jealous, doll" nam-gyu says, staring at me.

"maybe not more than a random blonde" i mumble, covering my face.

"hey listen. we might not get along great, but" he says, removing my hands out of my face, making me stare him. "you're the most gorgeous girl in this trashy party" we both chuckle.

i smile, thankful. he's actually making me feel better.

"thanks, i can't believe i'm saying this but... you're actually a decent person" i spoke, smiling.

he grins as one of his hands goes to grab a strand of my hair, tucking it behind my ear.

as he was getting close, a hand grabs the neck of his shirt from behind and pulls him away.

"what the fuck do you think you're doing?" se-mi says to him, her face twisted in anger and betray. her stare now focus on me as she frowns. "were you going to kiss him? for real?" she scoffs as she lets nam-gyu free of her hold and sarcastically chuckles.

i stare at her, confusion all over my face.

what was she talking about?

getting up from the couch, i stand in front of her.

"i don't get it. if i get in between your hookup i'm a bitch but you interrumpt a conversation and you're a heroe?" i say close to her face. we're standing a few inches apart. i can feel her breath on my face. i know she's mad. she has the same harsh look everytime thanos or nam-gyu say something that she doesn't like, before punching them.

but i'm not used to her staring at me that way.

"this is ridiculous. we're all having a good time. we'll talk about this later" i say turning around, heading to the bathroom.

i can hear her loud steps following me as i enter to the bathroom. she pushes the door before i can close it and enters, closing the door behind her.

she walks towards me, taking a deep breath as she stares my features. annoyance is clear on her face.

"what the fuck? nam-gyu? that's who you choose to go for, out of all the people here?" her expression growing with irritation.

"oh i'm sorry, i thought you were too busy with the blondie to notice my presence!"

"what are you talking about?" she says like i'm insane. "why does she makes you so angry? you never aprove of anyone i try to hookup." she says, scoffing.

"well, im just looking out for you"

"bullshit." se-mi replies, her expression growing angrier "you push me away, you flirt with nam-gyu-"

"flirt with nam-gyu?" i say, stopping her mid-sentence, confused. "what are you talking about? i wasn't flirting with him!"

"you were. you literally let him get close to you, touch your hair"

"you do that, my friends sometimes do that, i thought it was friendly" i shrugged. was he really flirting with me? "i didn't noticed. i promise"

she gazes into my eyes and looks for any sign of a lie in my face. her stare softens once she sees that i'm not lying to her. she steps closer to me, her body still tense.

"it made me so angry seeing you with him" she said, avoiding my eyes. "i thought you were trying to make me jealous on purpose and.." she stops and pins me against the wall. "it was driving me crazy"

my heart beats like crazy, i feel my cheeks heating up from how close she's standing to me.

"wh-why did it drive you crazy?"

her eyes becoming darker, filled with possessiveness. her raw voice, talks in a low tone.

"why do you think? i want you. all the times i hate seeing someone else get too close to you? i knew i was a little too much overprotective over you but," she stops, lifting my chin so i can stare into her eyes. "tonight? you ignoring me and talking to him instead? made my blood boil. i wanted to bend you against the table and fuck you right then and there so everyone can see who owns you."

i felt a heat set on my lower stomach, my panties becoming soaked for her words. i bit my lip as my stare drops to her lips.

her breath hitches. she swallows hard while closing the distance between us, trapping me against her and the wall. her lips capture mine with a kiss, her hands roaming all through my body as she settles on my throat, squeezing to remove air from my lungs. my hand wraps around her bicep, squeezing it one the choking becomes too much.

the kiss turning into a hungry, desesperate one. deepening as her tongue enters my mouth.

"you have no idea how much i want you" i moan in between kisses as her hands lower to my waist.

"if you keep saying things like that, i'll fuck you here, no time to take you to the bedroom" she says, eyes darkened with desire.

i nod as her kisses go lower to my neck, bitting, licking and leaving hickeys as i whimper.

"when i finish fucking you stupid, you're gonna go show him your hickeys and tell him who left them there" she says in a growl.

i nod, completely at her mercy.

she kneels, her hands slowly going under my skirt as she pulls it up, making me hold it.

"you and this miniskirt have been driving me insane all night" she says, her fingers teasing my folds over my panties. "look at you baby, you're soaked. you ruined this pretty pair of undies. being my whore made you this wet?" she says, her fingers still softly tracing my cunt, feeling the wetness.

"all for you, all for you. please se-mi" i beg whimpering, my puffy clit needy for stimulation.

"please what baby? use your words like the grown girl you are" she says, her eyes dark and feral, staring at the wet patch growing on my underwear.

"please fuck me."

her eyes graze all over my face as a smirk forms in her lips. i whimper as her fingers grab the elastic band of my panties. her face so close i can feel her breath against my cunt, making me clench to nothing. her tongue can't help but swipe across.

i moan, one hand holding to my skirt as the other one heads to grab her hair to pull her closer. she chuckles at my desperation, giving another flick of her tongue.

finally, she slowly begins to pull my panties down, removing them.

cold air hitting my clit, making me squeeze my thighs. her breathing getting heavier as she parts my legs, seeing the wetness covering my inner thighs.

she grabs my leg and places it on top of her shoulder, getting closer to where i need her the most. her fingers slowly teasing my clit as i give her a choked moan.

her tongue meets my clit, giving kitten licks as her fingers lower to tease my entrance. i yank her hair, trying to pull her even closer, making her stop. my eyes become watery.

"n-no wait, wh-why did you stop" i whimper, so needy.

"you're such a brat. you tease all night, you make me angry and you want me to take it to your pace?" she says, two of her fingers enter without warning in my soppy cunt, making me moan loudly. "you'll do as i say when i say it, you're my slut" she stares at me, as my eyes threaten to shut close from pleasure. i nod, making sure she knew i understood.

"lets fuck the attitude out of you, hm?" she says, her tongue meeting my clit once again as her two fingers curl inside of me with no mercy.

her tongue flicks on all the right places, fingers never leaving my inside as she thrust deeper and harder, making me clench.

"i-if you keep going i'll cum...i'm gonna cum please" i moan loudly as her pace seems to go even faster.

my head against the wall, feeling completely overwhelmed by how good she's fucking me. i can hear the squelching sounds of my pussy as she keeps thrusting, hitting that spot that makes me wanna crumble for her.

she keeps eating me, soft moans leaving her mouth, turning me on even more.

then suddenly, when i'm about to hit the climax, everything stops.

i open my eyes wide as i see her smirking playfully in between my legs.

"you're ready to take my cock princess?" her voice dripping in lust as she stood up. she grabs my hips and bites my pouty lips, kissing me once again.

she pounds with no mercy into me with her fake cock, my eyes rolling back from pleasure as i feel her hand squeeze my throat, choking me as she thrusts harder.

"you like it baby? you like my cock?" she says, heavy breathing as i mumble something that sounds like "yeah..yes..yeah"

she keeps slamming into me as her fingers leave my throath and go straight to my aching clit. she circles as i clench, showing i'm getting closer and closer to my release.

my moans get louder as she goes deeper and faster.

"you're gonna cum for me princess? i wanna feel you tight around my cock" she says, her moves never stopping.

i nod, desesperate. "se-mi.. baby i love-i love you so much.. so so much-" i cry out as my mouth opens in a "o" shape.

heat positions in my lower stomach, expanding more and more with each thrust, until it snaps.

i pull her by the neck, kissing her deeply to shut my loud moan as i cum. my cunt pulsating around her cock as she never stops moving, making my orgasm last even longer, while she hungrily returns the kiss. her hand leaving my clit and settling on my throat, choking me while she bites and pulls my lower lip.

"i love you so much princess" she says, slowly pausing her thrusts.

as she pulls away her cock leaves my insides, making me whine as i let my body go numb against the bed. my eyes closing as i feel her move from on top of me to sit besides me

her hands position behind my head, pulling me up to drink some water.

i open my eyes to see her hair sticking to her face, cheeks flustered and her eyes dilatated.

as i stop drinking and slowly sit myself in bed, she kisses me once again, her tongue exploring once again my mouth. the feeling that i'll never get tired of this sits on my chest.

"you didn't think this was all, right baby?" she smirks, breaking the kiss and grabbing my hips.

"you're such a good slut, you like this huh? being a whore for your best friend? this' what you wanted?" she teases me as her cock slams into me from behind, spanking me, leaving a red mark of her hand.

tears running my cheeks from pleasure and humiliation. the moans that came from my mouth chanting her name sounded almost pornographic.

"poor baby, all she ever wanted was to go dumb on my cock. you're taking it so good, my little slut"

she had me on all fours, rutting into me, making me take her whole lenght.

her black strap hitting places that made me scream from pleasure. my face against her pillow trying to quiet the moans she took out of me by fucking me ruthless.

"you only wanted me to fuck you dumb, fuck that bratty attitude out of you. look at you now" she said, spanking me as she went harder. "pathetic whiny baby"

one of her hands on my hips, helping her slam deeply into me, while her other hand threads my hair and pulls it, making me lift my face from the pillow with a moan.

"i dont hear you screaming princess, and neither can the idiots downstairs. i bet they want you like this, but you're all mine" she whispers in my ear bringing me closer to her chest without removing her cock, who fucks into me while my slick is covering it entirely.

she keeps pulling my hair harder and tighter. her moves becoming sloppier as her hand sneaks to play with my clit.

the circles over it and her cock thrusting non stop to my squelching cunt made me clench, the release feeling so close again.

"se-mi..se-mi i'm coming again" i cried as she kept slamming and pulling my hair so i couldn't fall against the pillow. my moans becoming louder with each thrust.

the pleasure taking all over my body, i cried as i felt myself reach the climax. she kept going with her moves, but started to slow down, softly grabbing my body to prevent me from falling hard onto the matress.

she pulled away, the feeling of nothing filling me left me whining. my body lays in bed as my breathing tries to become normal. i felt like i was passing out.

she lays besides me, moving my body to be almost resting on top of her as she kisses my head.

"i never wanted anyone else. and you're dumb for not telling me about your feelings. we could've done this sooner" she chuckles as i nod, tired.

"i wasn't flirting with nam-gyu. i always wanted you" i said with my eyes close, almost falling asleep.

"i know baby. but tomorrow he'll see the hickeys and i'll be happier" she mumbles, closing her eyes to doze off.

i hear a few knocks on the door as we both open our eyes.

"why do we get all the cleaning and you two get the sex? that's so unfair" thanos said, knocking again on the door.

we could hear him and nam-gyu mumbling as thanos laughed at him.

"a chance? "thanos snorts, teasing nam-gyu. "you're stupid if you thought se-mi would let you get an inch close to her" he says as the other guy shushed him.

se-mi scoffs as she hugs me, forcing me to close my eyes and doze off.

who knew falling for your best friend could end this good?

[nereidprinc3ss]

Happy 2k babe! I have a request for fluffy Spencer smut based on the song "touch tank" by Quinnie! (the song gives me like golden retriever vibes so maybe you could put something about reader playing with his hair in there? I don't know I'm having later seasons fluffy hair Spencer brainrot and I never make requests, obviously feel free to ignore or change things if this is too specific! <3)

hi angel babe!!! i love this song!! and i too am always having later seasons fluffy haired spencer brainrot!! i wrote this super quick, please let me know if its any good, ILY!!! xo

warnings/tags: fem!reader, softdom!spence, sub reader, fingering, oral f receiving, sorta kinda overstimulation, implicit consent, praise n stuff, not proofread, written at 9 pm on a tuesday night, so fluffy

18+ (smut)

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

Spencer is clearly almost asleep on the couch next to you. That’s one of many things you find endlessly fascinating and charming about him—his ability to fall asleep anywhere at any time within minutes. 

So you probably shouldn’t speak. But the stakes are low; it’s barely 7:30 in the evening. 

“Spence?” You whisper. His eyes don’t open, but his thumb goes back to making little passes where it’s settled over your hip. 

“Hm?”

“Don’t fall asleep.”

He smiles, slight but beautiful—yet his eyes remain stubbornly closed. 

“Why not?” 

“’Cause I want you to be awake.” 

“Then you can’t keep playing with my hair like that.”

You pout as if he can see you.

“But I like playing with your hair.”

Spencer hums, and you can tell you’re losing him again as you continue carding your hand through stupidly soft locks. 

“One or the other. You can’t have both.”

“I love you both, though,” you complain. “I don’t know who to pick.”

The grin has been steadily fading from his relaxed face but it flickers back to life for a moment. 

“I’m getting a haircut tomorrow. That should make it easier for you.”

“What?”

It’s the genuine horror in your voice that finally gets him to open his eyes. A little line appears between his brows as he regards you with bleary eyes. 

“What what?”

“You didn’t consult me!”

The momentarily tensed muscles in his face relax and he rolls his eyes affectionately before craning his neck to kiss your forehead. 

“I’m not in the habit of requesting your approval before I make choices like that.”

“Spencer, please don’t cut your hair,” you beg, genuinely distraught. “You can’t. It’s so so pretty.”

“It’s too long, baby. I don’t want to grow it out again.”

“You don’t have to grow it out! Just don’t get it any shorter! It’s perfect how it is,” you insist. Spencer narrows his eyes as you plead with him. But you stand firm in your position. His hair is sort of shaggy, sure—too long to be considered cropped and too short to be considered long. It’s like a beautiful curly halo and it’s perfect playing-with length. “I’m serious. I’m asking you to not cut it short, please. This is what I want for my birthday.”

“Your birthday’s not even—”

“Pretty please with a cherry on top? I love your hair so much and I love you more but I just really don’t want you to cut it, please—”

He’s laughing when he silences you with a soft kiss, and you melt, sighing against him as his hand slides up and down the back of your thigh. When he knows you’ve been sufficiently soothed, he pulls away, still smiling. 

“Oh my god, baby—are you about to cry?”

“Stop!” you whine, burying your face into a throw pillow and screwing your eyes shut. Your nose crinkles up with embarrassment. “Don’t laugh at me.”

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, and though he’s no longer outright laughing, traces of humor still color his lowered voice as he kisses all over the side of your face.  “I had no idea you felt that way. I didn’t realize I’d be causing you so much emotional distress if I cut my hair.”

You sniffle away any unfortunate emotional reactions and turn your head back to him. He’s ducked down slightly, still peppering kisses over your jaw and neck, and you lace your fingers through the contentious hair. 

“Obviously I’m not the boss of you. If it makes you uncomfortable I want you to cut it. But I really like it how it is.”

He hums against your throat and the vibrations send a chill down your spine. You arch against him unconsciously. 

“You are definitely the boss of me. I don’t know anyone else who I like receiving orders from so much.”

“Hotch,” you whisper, and you can feel Spencer’s teeth against your neck as he smiles and presses another loving kiss to the sensitive spot above your collarbone. 

“Not the kind of orders I was talking about. And I don’t particularly care what Hotch thinks of my hair, honey.” He kisses tenderly until he earns a tiny whimper from you—which sates him enough to raise his head until you’re eye-level again. His hand, however, has other plans—it creeps south, slipping under the waistband of your pajama pants. “What if we compromise? I just get it trimmed so it doesn’t keep getting in my eyes when I have a loaded gun in my hands, yeah?” You nod dutifully, looping your arms around his neck as his fingers dip beneath your underwear. When you don’t reply verbally, he prompts meaningfully, “okay?”

“Okay,” you whisper, voice small as you look into his searching eyes. 

For a few moments, when he finally pushes his fingers against your clit and begins rubbing with slow, gentle strokes, his eyes are everywhere on your face—then they focus back on your eyes, watching with that habitually intense interest permeated with a sense of devotion—like he wants to see exactly what pleasure looks like reflected in your irises. Like he could see through them to your brain and watch your dopamine transmitters working overtime. A soft moan escapes through parted lips, which seems to spur Spencer on. He drags more arousal over your aching bud and openly chuckles at your airy sigh of pleasure, unable to resist from giving you a short kiss. 

“Feels good?”

“Mhm,” you breathe. 

“Mhm,” he agrees, kissing you again just as quickly before pulling back to study your face once more. “Pretty girl.”

“You’re pretty,” you insist, with what little brain power is available to you as you rake one hand through his hair. He smiles, eyes pinging between your own and your mouth like he can’t decide where to look.  

“I’m pretty?” he asks, speaking over another quiet, yet unabashed moan. You nod, hips bucking slightly off the couch cushion as he speed up the motion of his hand. The grin widens and his soft amber eyes soften further. “You’re so sweet.”

You give him a moan he can’t ignore and he takes it as a signal to slip two fingers into you, sighing in what sounds like relief just as your breath catches. The way he seems to feel your pleasure will never get less erotic. Once he’d explained it—something to do with mirror neurons—but whatever the reason, watching the way his arousal rises with yours is exhilarating. 

A squeaking sound is expelled from your lungs and your whole body tenses, propelling you maybe an inch upward involuntarily. 

His lips part the same as yours—but only allowing another dry laugh to pass between them. 

“Relax. I’ll come to you.”

You hum as he leans down and kisses you back into the pillow—a proper kiss, this time, lips parted and the tip of his tongue grazing yours—all the while, still pumping his fingers much deeper than your own could ever manage. Each moan and gasp he allows you to release freely, only barely parting from your lips every few seconds to let you breathe and make your noises. When his fingers begin pumping faster, and you can hear it, you whine, knees clamping shut as the small of your back jumps away from the couch. 

“Fuck,” you pant against his lips. 

“Need you to keep your legs open, baby,” Spencer reminds you gently, giving you a peck and a moment to relax as his hand stills. 

“I don’t think I can,” you admit shyly, still wriggling. “Um, can you—can you use your mouth, please?”

Your boyfriend chuckles again and your cheeks get warmer. Momentarily you allow yourself to be grateful that his face is pressed too close to your own for him to be really be looking at you. 

“You still have to keep your legs apart for that.”

“I know. It’s easier when—when you’re not inside.”

The smile in Spencer’s voice when he replies gives you butterflies as if he’s not knuckle deep in you already. 

“I bet you think that’s true.”

“It is!” you whine. 

“You’ve never had your thighs wrapped around your head so tightly your ears pop, have you?”

“That did not happen.”

“Only once,” Spencer reassures you. “And I happen to like your thighs. So no harm done. Go lie down on the bed.”

You let out a small chirp as he withdraws his fingers from you and your waistband snaps back into place against your skin. 

“Where are you going?” you ask suspiciously, once you’re on semi-steady feet and watching him rise from the couch too. At once he kisses your forehead and grabs your ass—the contrast is dizzying. 

“To wash my hands,” he says, popping the fingers that were just in you into his mouth like a preliminary clean up. “Go,” he urges, jutting his chin in the direction of the bedroom door. You hang from him just a second longer, biting back a smile, before tearing yourself away and only half-skipping to the bedroom. 

Only a moment or two after you flop joyfully down on the mattress, he appears in the doorway again, immediately noticing the way you’re practically vibrating with excitement and unable to hide your grin as he approaches. It seems the smile is contagious—he’s sporting one of his own as he climbs over you. 

“You’re adorable,” he murmurs toothily, kissing you once and then speaking again, “I love you so much.”

It’s exactly the kind of thing that makes you feel all soft and shy and giddy and speechless—even as he gives you one more parting kiss and then is sitting up to slide your pants off. 

Maybe even especially then. 

The sweetness dissipates only a little, still hanging thick in the air as you kick your bottoms off, and he leans back down, pushing your shirt over your chest and pressing kisses to your ribs and down your tummy. He doesn’t waste much time, only taking one brief detour to suck a mark and sink his teeth into your inner thigh until your breath catches loud enough to appease him. Then it’s all easy—his cool fingertips trailing up and down the backs of your thighs as he kisses all over and around your core. Intimacy with Spencer is definitely a spectrum, and while you can always feel the depth of his love for you in every touch, right now it’s so tangible, so potent you can feel it in your teeth. 

You coo when one of the kisses finally sticks, lacing your fingers through the hair you love so much and pushing it out of the way as he laps gently at you. He looks as beautiful as always in the golden hour light as it filters through the window, but you’ve always thought he’s just that extra bit prettier when he’s eating you out. 

Visually you’re entranced—it’s only when he begins easing you into the deep end with the flicking of his tongue that your brow knits and you gasp. 

“Spencer,” you whisper, and it melds into a louder gasp. “Baby.”

He hums into you, reaching around your thigh to grab one of your wrists. You allow him to drag your hand from his hair and intertwine your fingers, his hand on top of yours, pressing them against your stomach where he sweeps his thumb back and forth over your knuckles.

The display of tenderness only makes you ache deeper in your belly, singing in airy, open-mouthed praise for him with a moan you know he would describe as pretty. Spencer says things like that often. He always talks about you like you’re an art form. When it comes to talking about touching you, he’s especially poetic. 

When he begins to suckle, your moans get a little more explicit. 

But he likes those ones just fine, too.

“Oh, fuck,” you breathe, though it’s a little choked, as you writhe just slightly against him. “That’s so good—oh my god.”

The hand that’s not holding yours rapidly changes position—pressing your thigh to the side with his elbow while he slips his fingers inside you once more. 

At that, you really do choke, your body attempting to sit bolt upright but set off balance by the way your hips buck. You moan, loud, lilting, head still lifted to watch as he begins fucking you with his fingers. Your fingers brush through his hair several times before you’re anchoring your hand in it and falling back. 

“Wh—please, baby, I can’t—”

But you can, and you both know it. You always do this; your body sends you signs that you’re over-indulging and fights to escape the stimuli and Spencer has learned to recognize your false flags for what they are. His hand speeds up along with his tongue and you cry out again, fighting to keep your legs open and your hips on the bed as every nerve in your body seems to light up neon. 

“Oh—Spencer I’m gonna come,” you warn, all high pitched and synthesized into one word. He simply hums a long mhm in acknowledgment, and decides at that moment to brush his fingers over that spot inside of you which proves to be exactly the right button to trigger your detonation. 

You can’t help the way you twist then as your orgasm washes you out—jaw dropped as your final keen starts loud, sputters into silence, and melts into an exhausted whine as your hips wind down. Spencer (wisely) adjusts his position, letting go of your hand only so he can sit up as your thighs clamp shut hard. But he’s still pumping his fingers as you writhe, his own mouth hanging open and groaning as you mewl. You watch him through half-lidded eyes, ready to beg him to stop—but as usual, he knows your body better than you do. An orgasm that you had thought was on its way out gets a second life and you can’t even breathe as you feel it so deep within you, pinpointed to one spot of focus, that you have to curl in on yourself, keeling onto your side because it’s simply too intense. 

Either your vision goes black or your eyes are simply closed—regardless, time ceases for an unquantifiable moment, and you come to with Spencer rubbing your back and murmuring your name. 

“What did I do to you?” he laughs, not unkindly.  

Your back arches as mild aftershocks trickle through your system. 

“I don’t know,” you slur. “Dark magic.”

He allows himself to be pulled on top of you once more, and you tangle your hands in his hair again. 

“But you’re okay?” he murmurs, using his dry hand to play with your hair and brush over your cheek. 

“Mhm,” you nod, eyes fluttering shut once more. Then you laugh, sudden and unexpected to both of you. “I think. That was intense. I felt that one in my soul.”

You smile as he exhales a laugh against your skin. 

“Okay,” Spencer sighs after you catch your breath, bumping his nose against yours before sitting up—this time, not allowing you to pull him back down. “I need to take a shower. You should come with me.”

“Five more minutes,” you mumble. He raises his eyebrows. 

“But this is your last chance to wash my hair before it’s a whole inch shorter tomorrow.”

“Oh,” you laugh, but it turns deadly serious very quickly. “Spencer, I am not letting you cut a whole inch off your hair. I need that inch.”

“For what?” He snorts. 

You smile big, glad he didn’t see your joke coming for once. 

“Handles! Duh!”

[sugar-write]

Heart-eyes (LN4)

Lando Norris x rocker!fem!reader

type : smau (fc : random girls from aesthetic on Pinterest)

summary : Lando Norris and his rocker childhood friends interaction are the favorite of the fans, they love their best friends dynamic and how different their life are. but when people start shipping her with her bandmate, the world is about to learn what's really behind their 'best friends' title.

note : Ikare and Astrid are your bandmates

adv : nothing really, maybe swearing, pictures with cigarettes and alcohol, English isn't my first language so sorry for the mistakes. it's my first smau plz be nice

part 2???

its.yn.bitch

liked by Lando, fallingIkare, AstrId and others

back in the city for some fun with the gang (yeah it's Ikare and I in the hoodie)

view comments

Lando I'm not part of the gang... I feel betrayed

its.yn.bitch ur like on the other side of the world

Lando so what

Lando distance is breaking us down now

its.yn.bitch you're such a drama queen

Lando but you love me

its.yn.bitch unfortunately I do Heart-eyes

user4 new music when?

user6 to be friends with people like they are...

Lando can you teach me skateboarding?

user22 day 386 of Lando asking for skateboard lessons and getting left on red by yn

user5 give us new music bandname ✊✊

fallingIkare chaos is our second nature 👆

its.yn.bitch always and forever 👆

AstrId always and forever 👆

user2 why do she always calls Lando Heart-eyes

user1 they're childhood best friends and when she saw him watch a Karting race she thought he had heart eyes and it stayed

user8 it's when he looks at her that he have heart eyes

user10 plz they're like best friends forever

user3 yeah stop shipping people

user15 manifesting for a new song

user11 she's like very close to Ikare

user24 I was thinking the same, they're always together

user9 yeah because they're bandmates and friends

user13 you guys need to go to therapy people can be just friends

Lando posted a story

view replies

its.yn.bitch you should be grateful to have me in your life

Lando I am I am but I'll still call you loser

its.yn.bitch fuck off you fell to

Lando but you fall first

its.yn.bitch you're like a trained athelt

its.yn.bitch I can't win a pump match!

fallingIkare idk what you did but she came back angry

Lando she just don't like losing

fallingIkare what was the dare

Lando pump and she's good

Lando I only made two more

fallingIkare yeah she do pump on stage before show she says it helps with stress

Lando such a weirdo

user32 it's giving chaotic date vibes

user17 I love how you have two lives, like F1 and making date night eating on skateboard at night in some street

user26 when is it my turnnnn

user32 why do you always post her in story and never in post

its.yn.bitch

liked by Lando, fallingIkare, AstrId and others

chaotic you said?

view comments

user37 wait that's a MAN

user25 red alert, who is that guy

user14 which one? Ikare or Lando

user1 for fuck sakes they're friends

user34 come on man respect them!

user38 guitare ? new music ?

fallingIkare you just set the world on fire

its.yn.bitch :) :)

AstrId no need Ikare she's just proud of herself

user36 omg they're so much things to analyze in that post

user34 even in these interaction

user19 she woke up and choose violence

its.yn.bitch posted a story

view replies

Lando I thought you stopped cigarette

its.yn.bitch i did

its.yn.bitch don't worry not gonna start again

Lando great

Lando I hate the smell

its.yn.bitch I know heart eyes I know

fallingIkare makes us sound like junky

its.yn.bitch I thought it was poetic

fallingIkare it's not

fallingIkare sorry to break your little dream

its.yn.bitch you suck so bad

fallingIkare ouch

AstrId photo creds ?

its.yn.bitch thanks babe <3

user16 what do you mean high?

user35 are you two dating?

user38 you're just playing with us

meanwhile on Twitter~~~

meanwhile on yn's phone~~~

its.yn.bitch

liked by Lando, fallingIkare, AstrId and others

time to go back to work

view comments

user17 omgggg new musics

user29 she's in the studio!!

user8 using music to get our attention out of the man

user3 we see you yn

its.yn.bitch oupsiii

user09 she's so unserious

user22 I can't wait to listen to it

Lando I'm hyped

user45 bro you probably already knew

user31 honestly even knowing before everyone I would be hyped

user37 yeah like, it's bandname new song

user43 Ikare x yn dating comfirmation?

user39 I'm so ready for this frr

user14 omg would this be about Ikare??

user42 I can't wait

its.yn.bitch

liked by Lando, fallingIkare, AstrId and others

happy birthday bb <3 <3

(ps : Heart-eyes, solo song available everywhere, make sure to give it a chance)

comments had been limited on this post

fallingIkare when you said it was freaky I didn't though it like that

Lando oh my god

Lando thanks

Lando I mean I love you too

Lando god I miss you even more now

Lando wanna make up?

its.yn.bitch omw heart eyes

AstrId so this was your master plan

its.yn.bitch it worked no one thinks I'm dating Ikare anymore

fallingIkare thanks god they stopped, it's already too hard to be your friend

its.yn.bitch 🖕🖕fuck off

its.yn.bitch I don't accept negativity on this beautiful festive day

AstrId nurse they're out again

—————————–————

thanks for reading

I hope you like it I loved making smau so maybe I'll do a part 2 or another story tell me

Anyway have a good day take care of yourself

[hoodedjelly]

my Jenny, Tuck, Brad, Shelden, and Vega older designs ^__^

i'm watching mlaatr, still not done, i think i got like 10 more eps (and if i'm being transparent i skipped around eps... i just wanted to see vega...). And i'm absolutely loving the show!!!! i love these characters a lot, didn't like Shelden at first i'm going to be honest, #1 Shelden hater for a bit there. but he chilled out in season two and i started to ship breldon with that too so now i just love him so much.

more about my personal headcanons:

Jenny: - I am under the belief that she is transgender. Jenny was made genderless, so her deciding to be a girl was strictly her choice and i believe that makes her trans. (She's also a lesbian) - she did grow a bit, im not gonna explain how idc really i just liked her being a taller lady :-) - she has A LOT of different cute outfits and hair styles, honestly too much to draw. she never transforms back into her base show outfit when crime fighting, she just fights in her cute summer dress she don't care. - her and vega are dating grrgrgrrrr - when vega is in rule she makes it so there is complete free access between earth and cluster prime for citizens in both places. - I say that cause i think when jenny is older she moves in with vega, technically living in cluster prime but visits earth like everyday. And brad/shelby/tucker/wakeman visit cluster prime - Jenny also hangs out with the nicktoons unite gang, but i deffo feel like its just that secondary friend group that you don't talk to with for months. when you talk again its the same goofiness as before - i think danny calls for her help when he needs it (also manny) Tuck: - he is still a little shit but we love him - adhd boy - questioning cis (he/him) - he got into robotics/stem and builds little silly things - with that, he gets help from Shelby - pretty much just a silly teen, he's on the internet a lot and has "cringe" interests - but idk he's having fun and being silly and finding himself (those interests is stuff like sonic and among us) Shelden(Shelby) - honestly kinda nervous about ppl thoughts on my Shelden, idk it makes so much sense in my brain - hits you with the transfem beam (she/they) Pansexual (she just wants anyone type of vibe) - I think when jenny is visiting vega often that leaves Shelby and Brad hanging out alone a lot. which they don't mind honestly, they are actually good friends! - but during that they just get closer and start catching feelings. Shelby eventually lets go of her feelings about jenny and realizes they were a real jerk and weirdo to her. brad helps them through that and eventually her realizing she's trans. blah blah they in love and kiss at some point. - Shelby is also a furry lmaooo her fursona is a cat.

Brad: - bisexual cis man (he/him) - Still his old brad self if i'm being honest. - totally forgot to say i think all 3 of them go off to college together (even though jenny doesn't have to i feel like she would prob want to just for the experience, but tell me if you think differently i'm still unsure) - i really don't know what else to say sorry brad! he's literally just as silly as ever man. he's just also gay - i will say here i feel it takes a lot longer for shelby and brad to start dating then jenny and vega. they got that slow burn kinda shit going on, since a lot of that is shelby being confused about her feelings. and jenny and vega just hit it off right away if im being honest, very high school sweethearts. - (also i think shelby makes brad make a fursona to match hers, so brad got a dog fursona)

Vega: - Lesbian cis (she/her) - That ending of her just ruling cluster prime was just so crazy to me cause like, aint she like 16? - i think she has a lot of stressed nights and fearing she's not doing the right thing for her people, and jenny tries to help as much she can - that is why jenny visits so much, she wants to help her. - very much got those nights were she accidently falls asleep at her desk, jenny finding her and giving her a blanket and a kiss goodnight - it's not like she's unhappy, she is actually very very passionate about her work and wants to NOT be like her mom - and yeah she deffo goes to robo therapy for the stuff with her mom. - i think it's a conflict where vega is scared her mom is gonna come back and jenny has to reassure her that if she does they'll get rid of her for good.

imma be honest a lot of my hcs are pretty half-baked and random things, im sure im going to think of more stuff in the future but that will be in different posts.

[everrinsly]

a/n; i was listening to "infinitely falling" by fly by midnight!

life with rin vibes.

down bad with rin. drabble. fluff. very suggestive. fem!reader. | not proofread.

more reads!

~~~~~

When you and Rin first moved in together, you were shy and sweet. Adorably so—

"Baby, why are your mugs on the other side of the shelf?"

"B-Because yours were on that side... and I didn't know—like... maybe you need more space...? So I-I just put mine a little over."

(It was not a little over; it was a lot over).

"You wanna take my car to work, pretty? I'm off from practice today."

"Mm, it's okay, Rin... I-I don't wanna accidently scratch it."

(Unbeknownst to you, he'd love a scratch on his car made by you).

—but now, you've grown. Shaper. Firmer. Wiser. Rin obviously noticed, but to him, you were still shy, still sweet, still his.

Rin's girl.

And shit, Rin has never seen his girl so simple yet so sinful.

You were standing barefoot in the kitchen, wearing his oversized sweatshirt that hit mid-thigh, humming softly as you reached for a mug on your tiptoes (your mugs and his mugs now scattered together, intertwined in one corner of the shelf). The morning sun filtered through the windows, catching in your hair, painting gold across your cheek.

The scene made something snap in his brain.

Not the kind of snap he usually has on the field, no. Like he wasn’t angry, wasn't frustrated, wasn't... anything really. But the feeling of it... the feeling of seeing you like this—

No, it was worse. It was want. Bone-deep. Dark-edged. The kind that started in the gut and bloomed up his spine like heat.

You looked so soft, so good, like you belonged there. Like you already belonged to him.

(You did).

And Rin’s thoughts turned filthy in a heartbeat.

He imagined walking up behind you, sliding his hands under that damn sweatshirt and gripping your hips. Pinning your hips to the counter and whispering low in your ear about how perfect you’d look full of him. How pretty you'd sound whimpering his name, begging softly even though he knew you’d take it all. You always did. Always so shy, so sweet—but so good for him when it counted.

His jaw tensed. The idea of you all round and swollen with his child, wearing his shirt, walking around the house with that golden glow he put in you—

God damn.

He exhaled, quietly. Controlled.

You turned to smile at him, holding out a cup of coffee like nothing was swirling beneath the surface. Like you didn’t know he was two seconds from dragging you back to bed just to claim you all over.

“Rin?” you asked softly, eyes blinking gently up at him.

He crossed the space between you in two slow steps, fingers brushing yours he took the mug.

He eyed the promise ring on your middle finger.

“You really don’t know what you do to me, baby,” he murmured under his breath, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Stay with me forever, yeah?"

You nodded, sheepish and confused but wholly trusting.

And Rin, for all his discipline on the field, couldn't stop thinking about how badly he wanted to fill you. Not just once, absolutely not. Not even twice or thrice.

But multiple times (everyday). Just to keep you, to mark you in the most permanent way possible.

Not just because he could.

Not just because you were his.

(Not just because the image of you carrying his child does unspeakable things to him).

But because deep down, there was a part of him that wanted everything you. All soft, shy, and sweet. Utterly his.

And fuck—was he already hopelessly, possessively in love.

[dearhargrove]

summary A sleepy morning with cuddly Sam.

word count 820

masterlist

There's few things you're always ready to spend money on. One of them is a funfair. The overall vibe, the attractions, the food and just the nostalgia of being a kid is exactly the reason you loved them so much. So, when you were out a few days ago and saw posters all over town advertising an upcoming funfair you already marked your calendar.

Today is a free day; no case, no research to be done – nothing. And also the day of the funfair. You're a bit embarrassed over just how excited you are, barely able to fall asleep yesterday and now awake at seven in the morning. You desperately try to go back to sleep so as not to disturb Sam, who's deep asleep next to you with his hair spread out around his head like a halo and his left arm snug around you.

But your attempt to keep calm seems to have failed when he groans and squints at you, “Baby?” he slurs half-awake. You wince apologetically and turn onto your side, “Sorry, didn't mean to wake you,” you whisper back.

He mumbles something incorrigible and then yawns heartily, free hand pushing hair out of his face before falling back into his stomach. “'s okay, hun,” he mumbles to stop you from feeling guilty and turns his head, smiling tiredly.

“We should sleep some more, it's barely eight in the morning, Sam..” he just waves his hand in dismissal and heaves himself onto his side, supported on his elbow. You can see the slight redness in his eyes from just waking up but his soft smile distracts you anyway.

“Why are you awake this early, pretty girl?” he lowly muses, letting his other hand rest on your cheek, thumb running under your eye. The pet name paired with the soft actions and the sight of him makes you melt and scoot forward to tangle your legs between his, throwing an arm over his waist.

“I'm excited,” you admit, sheepish as you push the hand on his back under his shirt to warm it up and at the same time give him a back rub. A soft frown of confusion settles on his face – which you immediately soothe away with a thumb smoothing out the wrinkle between his neat brows – and he makes a soft ‘oh’ sound.

“Excited for what? We don't have any plans today?” You can see the flicker of dread on his face as he passes through the possibility of a forgotten date or anniversary, making you snort softly. “We do. I made plans for us.” He raises his brows but doesn't intervene, letting you finish explaining. “There's a funfair in town.. I really want to go there with you and Dean.”

You bite your lip as you await his reaction, not expecting at all when he just snorts and pulls you even closer, pressing a kiss to your head. “That's why you've been in such a good mood?” he chuckles, bemused.

You pout a bit at his humorous reaction, making him lean down to kiss you shortly, “Don't pout. I wasn't mocking you, sweetheart. Of course we'll go with you.”

Grinning, you pull him into another kiss, this time deeper but still rushed from the excitement coursing through you. He chases after your lips when you pull away too early for his liking, simply pushing you down into the mattress with one big hand when you attempt to squirm away.

“We've got plenty of time before we can go.” He murmurs against your jaw, nipping there once before moving down lower to your throat and leaving similar small bites on your soft skin. He's making sure not to mark you up too much, instead pulling the collar of your shirt down to decorate your collarbones and shoulders with actual love bites and hickeys.

Sighing in mock annoyance you slip your hand out of his shirt and into his hair, tugging at the long strands which just makes him grunt in contentment.

You close your eyes again and play with his soft hair while he leaves marks all over you, soothing each new one with a bout of kisses. His arm is tight enough around your waist that you know he intends for you to lay still and take whatever he'll give – which you don't mind in the least.

After a few minutes he stops and lays his head on your chest, tip of his nose a bit cold from the room being chilly as he tucks it against your throat to keep breathing in your perfume and natural scent.

“Back to sleep?” you guess quietly, already pulling the duvet higher around his shoulders and sinking your hand back into those brown locks to scratch at his scalp the way he loves. He grunts in acknowledgement, arm momentarily tightening around you.

“Good idea.”

[gotta-winwin]

going seventeen 2020 <> TTT #1

masterlist | cyana's masterlist

word count: 1.5k italics are in english, bolded words are in mandarin a/n: one of my fave series in gose ever... ttt! lets all thank @massivecrusadephilosopher2 for requesting this wonderful gose ep <3

Cyana was glad she chose the car with all the chill people. She could only imagine how loud the other cars must be, filled with karaoke loving singers and members who couldn't stop talking. She loved them all to death - but it was way too early in the morning - and she couldn't be happier sitting next to Vernon as Minghao drove.

"I'm in such a good mood today." Minghao announced to everyone as they pulled out of their company driveway. "Although it is a bit burdensome, celebrating my birthday with everyone."

Cyana nudged Vernon. "Nonnie was so excited while packing. I've never seen him so ready to do something."

"It's been awhile since we've all hung out." Vernon reminded them. It was rare for all 14 of them to spend a night together.

She hummed, happy just thinking about the fun they were about to have. "It's my first staycation."

Wonwoo twisted around from the front seat to look at her. "Ever?" His voice was uncharacteristically loud with astonishment.

Cyana nodded, curling up in her seat. She tugged the blanket Joshua had gotten her so it draped over her lap. Getting comfortable, she looked up to see Wonwoo still looking at her. "You don't really film content like this as an actress." She shrugged. "I'm happy my first staycation is with Seventeen."

Vernon nodded, in the middle of putting headphones on. "It's definitely going to be a trip."

"Since we don't have to be on time..."

Cyana peaked an eye open upon hearing Wonwoo's voice. They had been driving silently for the past couple hours. She wordlessly apologized to the editors for giving them nothing to work with. She however, did not regret the nap her and Vernon had just taken.

"...why don't we go and enjoy the sea?"

Wonwoo always had such bright ideas, Cyana mused, sitting up and pushing Vernon gently off her.

"It's like we're on a personal trip." Minghao said, laughing at the thought.

"This only happens because it's us." Cyana added, her eyes warm. "I still can't believe they let us drive together - they know we're all no fun."

[ free-willed group ]

The scenery was beautiful as they walked along the seaside, autumn leaves blowing gently through the wind.

"I love fall." Cyana announced, to no one in particular. "I love fall so so so so so much."

Wonwoo couldn't help but smile at her words, watching as she admired the autumn colors around them, seemingly in her own world. Wordlessly, he held up his phone and snapped a picture.

The movement didn't escape Minghao's keen eyes however, as he raised a hand to tap Cyana on the shoulder. "Wonwoo-"

"Let's all take a picture!" Vernon jumped in, saving his hyungs ass.

Cyana blinked, quickly agreeing, confused why Wonwoo's face had turned so pink and why Vernon was suddenly so enthusiastic about pictures.

Shaking his head, Minghao shot Wonwoo a look.

Wonwoo could only subtlety shake his head and hope Cyana was still too enamoured by the scenery to notice.

Arriving at the airbnb, Cyana let out a loud gasp. "Look!" She grabbed Vernon's shoulder, shaking for his attention. "You can see Hoshi singing from all the way here."

Vernon followed her gaze, joining in on the laughter when he saw Hoshi, serenading the others in his tiger print t-shirt. "Wow." He mused, respecting the dedication. "He's actually insane."

"I want to join." Feeling rejuvenated after the calm and peaceful nap she just had, Cyana raced up the stairs and into the house.

"Cute." Vernon stated, as he watched the girl run away.

"What?" Wonwoo stood next to him, watching her as well.

[ admiring alien + painfully oblivious cat ]

The general vibe of the gathering was being kept up solely by Hoshi's passionate performance, as more people came and joined him in singing. Cyana sat on the couch, amused by the whole thing.

DK, Hoshi, Dino and Mingyu began singing some sad song, making her laugh over how much raw emotion was going into the performance.

"We're not onstage, guys." She reminded them, smiling so much her cheeks were starting to hurt. "Wa~ they really are natural performers."

Jun patted the spot next to him, urging her to come closer. "Hi."

She giggled. "Hello, Moonjunnie."

"I haven't seen you all week." He complained, throwing his head back against the couch. It was true, their schedules had somehow resulted in them never crossing paths. "I miss you."

"I'm right here, Junnie." Cyana smiled at his theatrics. "I missed you too. I haven't seen anyone this week, but somehow I've seen Mingyu every. single. day." She voiced out her complaints to Jun, who was listening, bemused.

He pointed at the boy in question, who was busy singing his heart out into the mic, a large arm around Dino's shoulders. "He's right here."

Cyana sighed. "It's like he's glue or something. We had identical schedules this week. I don't even know how that's possible. He's in Hip Hop and I'm in Vocal."

Jun patted her knee. "Ah. To have problems like you."

She kicked him playfully. "It is a real problem."

She regretted drinking so much so early. It was evident from the way Jeonghan was yelling about playing foot volleyball that the party had only began, and Cyana was already feeling way too tipsy.

Ignoring their calls to play, she ventured deeper down the hallway where their rooms were, coming across a figure lying on the ground.

Upon closer inspection, she realized it was Vernon.

"Nonnie?" She whispered, bending over and shaking his foot to wake him up. She was no longer surprised, having been used to his quirks for awhile now.

"Hm?" His voice was rough from the lack of use. "Nana?"

She hummed in confirmation. "The others are playing foot volleyball. You want to join?"

She knew his answer before he even replied.

"No."

Smiling, she slumped down next to him, leaning against the wall. "I don't either. I might black out from all the movement."

Vernon peaked open an eye to look at her from the ground. "Dizzy?" He asked, knowing she was part of the "low iron line."

Cyana only hummed in reply again.

Shouts and cheers echoed through the place, reaching both their ears as they stayed in silence, listening to the whoops and cries as the others played.

"This is nice." Cyana mumbled after awhile, smiling. It felt like her face was permanently frozen in one, with how much she had been smiling and laughing today.

Vernon nodded, his eyes still closed. "Told you."

Vernon had promised her any trip with Seventeen would be fun, reassuring her that spending a night with 13 boys was not as scary as it sounded when the 13 boys was them: made of goofiness but full of gentle care.

Cyana watched as Dino took shot after shot, living out his punishment after losing to Seungkwan in badminton.

"You reap what you sow." She told him, wagging a finger when he only pouted.

"Where did you even learn that?" Seungkwan asked her, throwing an arm around her shoulder. "No way Joshua taught you that."

"I did." Jeonghan raised his hand, a silly grin overtaking his face. He was proud that Cyana had found a chance to use the new phrase - even more proud that it had been used to tease Dino. "My little prodigy." He cooed, hands reaching to grab her cheek.

Cyana swiftly dodged, having much experience with it by now.

"Wait." Seungkwan called after Dino, who had been trying to escape through the distraction. "You still have to call me 'Hyung who I respect and have a lot to learn from.'"

Dino cringed just thinking about it. "Can I not?"

"You reap what you sow, Dino-yah~" Cyana sang from behind him, giggling when he turned to look at her with betrayal in his eyes.

"You're really going to treat your own twin like that?" He asked, pointing an accusatory finger at her. "This is betrayal."

[ you reap what you sow kekekeke ]

Seungcheol's voice rang through the room as he sang, proving to everyone he wasn't just a rapper. Cyana lazily waved her hands in the air, following the beat. The alcohol in her system was increasing both her social levels and her lack of self-control.

"Wooo~" She cheered once Seungcheol was done. "Best leader!"

He beamed under her praise.

"My turn~" Jeonghan took the mic from Seungcheol, cueing up the last song Cyana thought he'd sing. A rap song.

"Oh my god." She raised her hands to her mouth in surprise. Falling into DK's side, she let out a squeak. "It's Yoonzino." Jeonghan's infamous alter ego only ever made an appearance whenever Cyana was in his room and Jeonghan rapped along to her Spotify playlists.

"That's right!" Jeonghan called into the mic. "Yoonzino in the house~"

"You're so lucky you see this every night." DK nudged Cyana.

She laughed. "Hannie oppa has a secret love for rapping."

Laughing even harder when she saw Minghao jumping from outside the window, she doubled over in a fit of giggles, her upper half falling into DK's lap.

He stared down at her affectionately, an equally big grin on his face. "You're giggly today."

"She's drunk." Wonwoo mused, fighting back a smile.

[ mysterious until filled with alcohol ]

a/n: woo first half of ttt 2020 done! it was sm fun rewatching and imagining what cyana would be doing. she's part of the low iron line cuz she's just like me fr. let me know if you guys would be open to a part 2!

[sorryitsmyfirstdayonearth]

Seashells

(Dean Winchester x female reader)

Summary Dean, you and the kids spend a day at the beach in late summer. CWs Dad!Dean, end of summer, fluff with a touch of melancholia? 1k words AN Another entry for @ambiguous-avery's Summer Snapshot Challenge! I was trying to kind of go for this slightly melancholic vibe you sometimes get when summer's almost over - it's already a little cooler, the sun's not quite as hot. The kids are small still, but they're growing up, and it's just a marker of time, inevitably, passing. I don't think I was super successful (challenge is to stay under 1k words, and I'm a blabber, as you know 😄), but I'm sure I'll write something trying to hit that vibe again, cause I love it (even though it's sometimes sad).

Dean Winchester masterlist ⏐ SPN masterlist

“You have to understand what's at risk here,” Dean says on one of the last days of summer, looking from one face to the other. “Not all of us are gonna be ready for when we… see it.”

Emma nods, eyes wide.

“Okay,” she says.

“I'm serious,” Dean continues, and you think you see a slight glimmer in his green eyes, even through the darkness of his sunglasses. “We've never gone up against anything like this. Are you ready?” Emma nods again, hanging on his every word. Dean extends his hand, and she does too. He shakes her much smaller one.

“Good luck, soldier,” he says.

“Good luck,” she says, all seriousness.

“Go!” Dean calls, and both his tiny Batman figurine as well as Emma's Summer Fun Barbie start scaling the sides of the sand castle. Emma makes it up first, because Barbie is as tall as the castle itself. But that's when it happens.

“Raaaahhh!” JJ yells, doing a great job at letting the plastic kraken slowly scale the other side. “I'm gonna eat you!” 

Emma squeals, but luckily Batman comes to the rescue. While you peek over the edge of your crime novel, you watch as the two manage to drive the kraken back into the sea. JJ, always one to think on his toes, drops the toy in the sand, and jumps at his dad, wrapping his arms around his neck, and Dean lets himself fall back, pretending he's been bested, while in a shocking turn of events, Emma turns turncoat, and decides to join her little brother’s side.

“Don't kill your dad, okay?” you speak up, just as Dean manages to start tickling JJ’s ribs. “He still needs to grill burgers for us tonight. And you both should eat some more fruit, okay?”

Emma jumps up, rushes over to where you’re sitting only a few feet away on your towel. She drops to her knees and reaches for the container of fruit, picks out a piece of pear and pops it in her mouth. You run your hand over the side of her head, then look up.

Dean’s got JJ over his shoulder and is carrying him over while your son howls with laughter. Dean plops him down and then drops himself into the sand next to you.

“Dad, we gotta do that thing,” Emma says, and then she throws Dean the most meaningful look her adorable, nine-year-old face can come up with.

“Right,” Dean says, nodding, “the thing. Well, how about you and JJ get started and I’ll join you in a minute?” Emma nods and gets up. 

She reaches for her brother’s hand, and drags him up with her. He’s at the age where he’s still fine with being led and manhandled by his big sister. You wonder if this will change in the next few years. You know it would be natural if it does, but you can’t help yourself wishing that certain parts of them always remain the way they are now.

The two run off, and once they reach the edge of the water, Emma stops them. She leans down, picks something up without letting go of her brother. She holds it in her hand, studies it the way she does, with utter concentration. JJ bends down too, but he’s just copying her. You can tell he’s only picking up some sand. He doesn’t keep the act up for long, though, and soon lets it drop through his fingers and joins Emma in admiring her find.

“They wanna make you a shell necklace,” Dean says, and you turn to him, a soft smile on your face. He’s been looking at the kids too, but now he turns to you, needing to angle his head up to look at you. “Act surprised, okay? And like it doesn’t look like crap.” You chuckle, raise your hand and run it through his hair.

“I’m sure it’s gonna be beautiful,” you say and Dean huffs. 

“Nothing can beat that Q-tip horse they made last year, when we were stuck inside during that storm,” Dean says, looking back towards where Emma and JJ have moved a few steps down the beach before having stopped to admire something new. “I swear, I almost shot that thing. It was a mess. But it was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen.”

“Funny,” you say, letting your hand come to a stop high on Dean’s neck. “That’s what I thought the first time I saw you.” Dean turns back to you, now with his entire body, his hand landing on your ankle.

“You’re hilarious,” he says, running his hand up, “And very creamy.” You wiggle your eyebrows. 

“Protection’s important,” you say and Dean grins, leans towards you. Lands a kiss high on your knee.

“Yeah,” he says, turning back to watch your beautiful children. “But sometimes it’s good if you forget it.”

You think about that moment again when you’re driving back to the house. Emma and JJ are asleep in the back, leaned against each other, their small mouths opened, exhaustion from the beach day having overtaken them. They still do that - that full-bodied passing out. Sleep like a sudden blanket thrown over them. Dean threw on a bright blue shirt, only did up a few buttons. There’s sea salt all over your skin, sand still between your toes.

You turn to him. Low music on the radio, the windows down. It smells like it’s gonna rain. Dean looks at you with a question on his face.

“What?” he says. You shake your head, then reach for his hand on the steering wheel. You drag it towards yourself, kiss the back of it.

“Just happy,” you say. Dean smiles, squinting a little in the late summer sunlight. 

“Good,” he says, then winks at you. “That was the plan.” You chuckle, and then you turn and look at your children again. Their pockets full of sea shells.

[xaeyrnofnbe]

i think spuffy can be broken up into 5 main stages, and each stage manages to have entirely different reasons for being extremely compelling. it's like 5 different ships between the same 2 characters. it's awesome

stage 1: enemies. they both want to kill each other. there's some mutual respect what with them being pretty equally matched in combat, but otherwise they are literally just each other's natural predator. they put this aside briefly to defeat angelus, but they're still very deep in stage 1 for that. overall there's a ton of tension and chemistry and punching. very good

stage 2: chipped. a pretty short stage, but still worth being separated from stage 3 i think. starts when spike gets chipped and ends when he realizes he can't kill buffy. they still don't like each other, but now they're in close proximity all the time so they're constantly pissing each other off. Something Blue occurs in this stage, which is funny. and spike is just kinda the gross pathetic stray cat that the scoobies are just barely putting up with. he's in love with buffy already he just doesn't know it yet.

stage 3: pining. spike wants buffy, buffy does NOT want spike. but it's during this stage that spike gradually makes himself more and more useful, eventually earning buffy's trust. he's in love with her. she thinks he's weird and creepy and annoying but shit keeps going wrong and he's kinda starting to be the most reliable person in her life. this stage lasts all the way into a bit of season 6. i really really dig this stage tbh. might be my favorite. it's about the unwavering devotion.

stage 4: sleeping together. ok 'sleeping together' is maybe not the best description since this stage starts when buffy kisses him at the end of Once More With Feeling, but i think the sex was the most defining detail of this stage. all of buffy's friends suck so so bad during this stage except for spike, who is a vampire. which is both funny and severely fucked up. she's taking advantage of his love for her because she wants to feel something, to be distracted from how awful life is, and he lets her. even though it's changing both of them for the worse. but this is also kinda when buffy starts falling for him, even though she won't know that until the next stage. whole lotta repression going on here. ends with spike getting his soul.

stage 5: whatever the hell it was they had going on in s7. spike is all sad and guilty but buffy is like sooo invested in what he has going on. she knows she has feelings for him but it's all so damn COMPLICATED now. they do a lot of concerned frowning at each other in this stage. spike becomes a bit of a damsel in distress while also simultaneously being buffy's pet attack dog, like he was in stage 3. they are both each other's #1 priority which is extremely awkward for everyone else in the vicinity, because they're INTENSE about it. but they never kiss. some destiel vibes in this stage if i'm being honest.

BONUS STAGE: comics. in seasons 10-11 they are normal and in love. so normal it's almost boring. but they have some very fun moments regardless.