#this really is a “perfect. no notes” situation

[athenalvss]

Could you write with Wally West being silly and madly in love with a girl Y/N, but every time he tries to confess, something happens (like that cliché scene where the boy is trying to confess in the middle of the hall and he ends up falling, something like this hehe)

WOULD YOU BE MY.... ( wally west! )

Summary: Wally is finally ready to face the girl he likes and tell her how he feels about her, but well, apparently fate doesn't want it that way.

pairing: Wally west x fem!reader

open request - wally west masterlist

Wally West paced the halls of Justice Tower, his heart beating faster than his feet. Every time he thought of you, the world became a little brighter, though also a little more chaotic. His mind kept going over and over in his head: Today is the day. Today I'm going to tell her how I feel.

He'd been rehearsing the speech in his head for days, searching for the perfect words to express what he thought without sounding like a complete mess. But, as always, when the time came, everything fell apart.

He stopped in front of the training room door. You were inside, adjusting the bandages on your wrists, ready for another training session after a mission, although you shouldn't have been doing so given the massive blow you'd taken. Maybe it wasn't the right time, but then again, it wasn't the right time for this kind of situation. Wally ruffled his hair a little, took a deep breath, and approached the door, determined this time would be different.

He'd been rehearsing the speech in his head for days, searching for the perfect words to let you know what he feels without sounding like a complete mess. But, as always, when the time came, everything fell apart.

This time everything would be okay. He'd tell you everything he felt for you, you'd say yes, he'd kiss you, and he'd hug you until you grew tired of him, everything would be okay this time, not like the other four times.

The first time, he'd tried it in the Tower cafeteria. He'd set out a tray of food and drinks, sat right next to you, and started a normal conversation, trying to find the right words to get it all out, but just as he started talking, Beast Boy excitedly entered the room to show off his newfound animal transformation, accidentally knocking a tray of milkshakes over Wally.

The second time, for some reason, he thought it would be a brilliant idea to say it in the middle of a mission, after you saved his life by pulling him out of the way of a giant laser beam. Nothing like a post-near-death love confession, right?

"For the love of god, are you okay, Walls?" you said, on the verge of worry.

"I'm more than fine! Because you... I... actually, there's something I want to tell you..."

And just as you were about to let him go, a ship exploded behind you, and he let out a high pitched scream like a five yeas old. Neither of you spoke of it again, but Wally knew you'd been laughing at him inside.

The third time he tried, he wrote a note, complete with little drawings and hearts; he'd even scented the paper. He discreetly left it in your locker, convinced it was his masterpiece. That was until the fire alarms went off and a large group of students ran down the hallway, sending the letter flying, leaving no chance for you to read it.

The fourth time you two were training together, he was really trying hard, really wanting to impress you, making spectacular dodges, rolling on the floor with a confident smile.

"I have to tell you something…"he began.

And right there, when you were trying to throw a punch, he slipped because he wasn't concentrating and fell backward, hitting his head on a dumbbell. Hours later, he woke up in the infirmary with a bandage on his forehead and a note from you that said: "Rest easy, silly Flash ❤️‍🩹"

He nervously shook his hands against his pants, as if that would take away his fear. This time, this time it was going to work.

He'd seen you from across the hall. You had a makeshift bandage on your forehead and a water bottle in your hand. Despite that, Wally thought you looked like the prettiest girl on the planet with that bandage and that bruise on your face.

There were no explosions. There were no drills. There were no treacherous weights. Just the two of you, and this time, he was going to tell you.

He approached with a clumsy but determined step, without running, even though everything in him told him to flee or at least make a joke to break the tension. But no. This time he was going to be direct. He was going to speak from the heart.

"Hey..." he said, with that smile of his that always appeared when he was around her, that smile accompanied by hearts in his eyes. He ran one of his hands behind his head and rubbed the back of his neck, nervously. "Do you have a second?"

You looked up with a soft smile, tiredness still etched in your eyes. "Sure, Walls. What's up?"

He stopped in front of you, and for once in his life, he managed to hold your gaze. It felt like fireworks were going off in his chest, like his hands were getting wet with anxiety, he felt his words pile up in his throat, and for the first time, they didn't stumble over each other. He was more than ready.

"I've been wanting to tell you something for a while. Something that... well, that scares me a little, but I can't keep it to myself anymore because every time I see you I feel like-"

you blink slowly, once, two, three times.

"You okay, hon?" he asked, confused by the sudden lack of response.

And before he could say or do anything else, you stumbled forward, as if the world were slipping away from under you. Wally caught you in his arms just in time.

—¡Hey! Hey, hey! No, no, no, don't do this to me! —he said, holding you with a mixture of panic and desperation.

You were unconscious. Fainted.

The blow you'd received during the mission, the improvised bandage, the exhaustion. obviously something was going to happen

And he, again, with the words on the tip of his tongue...

Damn fate

[pedge-page]

Joel Dealing with Preggo Wife: And Then There Were Four...

notes: I had a request a long time ago asking about the fam going to a water park. This took me so long because Its actually quite a big chapter! strong recommend reading! This takes place when Sarah is around 4 but Ellie is not quite born yet. Some Tommy and Maria development here as well!

Warnings: pregnancy announcement, some post pregnant body insecurity, unprotected sex, silght breeding kink, pool sex, mentions of unplanned pregnancies, not proofread

18+ ONLY

- - - -

There’s never been such a hot, sunny, cloudless, beautiful summer day. 

At least, according to Sarah. Who conveniently saw a TV commercial about the local water park, SplashTown, and now is raving about when you’ll be taking her. Calling up the weather forecast each day like the local advertisement “the PERFECT day for a water park!” She exclaims like a salesperson.

Honestly? It was a good call by your almost 4-year-old. It’s been a long time since your family took a day trip to do something fun. She’s starting to get the age that she’s going to remember these things, so making family fun is now a top priority for you. 

Joel agreed, though he wasn’t all that excited about spending an entire day with sun burn and bleached chorine and back bruises on those hot ass plastic slides.

So here you are, all piled in the truck with Joel at the helm, and you in the passenger seat rubbing his thigh; your giddy little girl in the back pointing towards the approaching parking lot signs. and—

“Wow I haven't been to a water park in decades!” Tommy shouts from the other back seat. “Joel, remember we used to go by ourselves when I was like 14?”

Joel just sighs loudly, ignoring his jumpy overgrown brother reverting to his child like stasis.

"Remind me again why we had to bring Tommy?” He asks you grumpily.

"The tickets were cheaper if we bought it as a set of 4 rather than 3 individual.”

Your husband shakes his head with tight lips. “Yet another reason 4 is the perfect number for a family,” he says, recalling that day on the beach where he revealed his not so subtle opinion on just how many children the two of you would ideally have. 

You raise your brows amused.

Tommy shouts from the back, “What are doin’ for dinner, by the way?”

Joel rolls his eyes. He’s focused on the road head while wiggling four of his chunky fingers in your face, mouthing ‘F-O-U-R’ in an I-told-you-so kind of way. You ruffle his soft curls affectionately.  

Your stomach churned uneasily since you woke up at 8 this morning. It’s been a minute since you were out and about in public wearing nothing but a bathing suit. Going to the beach with a 8 month pregnant body is one thing. Going to a water park with a post pregnancy one is another. One you were never really worried about until this very day.

You take a deep breath. 

You know that, no matter where you are or what shape you take, Joel’s always gonna look at you like Mr Owl with the tootsie pop — and you’re the tootsie pop— so the worry on that note settles a bit inside.

There’s other things, very recent things, to be anxious about for sure.

Once parked, walked (and skipped) towards the front entrance, tickets scanned at the gate, the four of you make your way to the cabana’s to get situated.

“Show me your backs, people,” you announce to your little huddle. Sarah, all decked out in her brand new pink and sparkle bathing suit complete with mesh tutu skirt, shuffles over first as you squirt a generous slob of sunscreen onto your palm and begin slathering it all over her body. Rubbing a little too aggressively, she squints and scrunches her face, but she doesn’t protest. You cake her face until her skin is a shade lighter than before.

“You’re gonna give her reverse cancer with all that,” Joel chuckles. You brush him off and smudge the excess on her little cheeks, squishing her cheeks as takes the abuse.

Now she’s whiter than cocaine on Christmas morning. 

You smile.

“You next, big boy.” 

Joel grumbles but sits between your legs and you begin rubbing it all over his face. 

While you don’t notice, he can’t help but grin at how you tilt your head and stick your tongue out like an artist working to preserve her masterpiece—protecting her family from the wretched sun.

“Back please!”

Joel yanks his top one handedly over his head, revealing his pasty skin. 

You hum and bite your lip. Yeah, Joel’s let  the role of ‘Dad’ take over his every demeanor. Body included. and FUck, if that soft tummy and broad shouldered man isn’t a sight for sore eyes…

It gets enough middle aged woman’s heads turning, so you quickly frown, slap his skin up and then usher his shirt back on. That sexy ass shit is for your eyes only.

“Thomas!” You scream, making Joel and Sarah curl inward.

The younger brother holds his hands up and back away. “I’m workin’ on my tan so uh—no I’m good.”

“You’re white as f—heck,” you correct yourself while sideways glancing at Sarah. “You’re gonna burn.”

“He’s too cool to be fearful of sunburn, babe,” Joel says, hoping you’ll forfeit the losing battle.

You all find a nice empty area with a few lawn chairs to set up base outside the tidal pool.

And of course, the child who only passed her toddler swimming lessons a few months ago is dying to get in the giant tub of crashing waves and cascading people.

“Please!pleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease,” she whines, swinging on your arm and shouting it into the air.

You grumble. While you would much prefer she be in a body of water that is no deeper than a foot and is the width of a bathtub, you lessen your worry as seeing the waves aren’t on and there aren’t many people in there. “Can you at least wear your floaties?” You suggest, wagging the two arm holding balloons suggestively.

“Nah, we don’t need those, right bubba?” Joel rubs her hair. “I got her, babe. I’ll carry her the whole time.”

“Nooo!” Sarah protests, but Joel’s already kissing your forehead reassuringly (winning some Daddy points along the way) and scooping her into his arms.

“Stay in the shallow!”

Joel waves you off dismissively as they skip into the chlorine filled open sea.

Once gone, you notice Tommy checking his phone anxiously every few seconds but closing it disappointingly. A few women along the way eye him excitedly, but he just keeps to his phone the entire time.

“You doing okay?”

He shakes his head out of his trance. “Yeah. Just … haven’t heard from Maria today.”

Oh—shit. 

The last you heard, the two of them had a pretty nasty fight and Tommy had been crashing at your place for the last couple weeks. He had supposedly gone back to have a talk with her yesterday. He didn’t come back till morning, and didn’t really update you nor Joel on the situation. If anything, he looked perplexed, pale, and shaken. You feared maybe that was the final straw in their on and off relationship. Unfortunately, you are completely left in the dark as to what really happened.

You rub his shoulder calmly. “It’s going to be okay.”

Tommy takes a deep breath, channeling as much zen into his chest as possible before exhaling and nodding. “Yeah. Yeah. It’s… its actually—“

Squishing steps in her pool sandals while holding Daddy’s hand with a death grip, a completely drenched and shocked Sarah is walks back towards you. Her expression is just blank, dripping with water like she was baptized 12 times in a row and forgot whether she breathed air or water for a living.

“Sarah? Sarah honey are you okay?” You get to your knees and try to comfort her with warm hands along her arms. She just nods quickly, feinting something of a half smile, half frown all at once. She looks more confused than anything else.

Joel, who’s suspiciously quiet and equally drenched, is shaking. Though not from cold, but from sheer effort of trying to hide his laughs. “She got damn near waterboarded.” His face is so red, wheezing in a high pitched, barely audible tone while recalling the image.

He had taken her way deeper than “shallow”, and made Sarah promise not to tell mommy. The two snickered, and Joel hoisted her on his shoulders and waded into the deeper end, where the water came up to his mid section. The waves came on, and Joel was honestly expecting to be able to jump with him and give her a little ride. She was super excited, smiling giddily while Joel held both her hands in his next to his ears. The first wave came up to Joel’s cheek, and he quickly squirted it out with a smile. She laughed with excitement, ready for the second one—

Instead, the second wave completely kicked his ass and knocked both them off his feet, falling backwards before regaining ground. All he saw were a pair of flimsy pink sandals attached to a little pair of feet wipe past his vision before being dunked underwater. He stood quickly, shook off the water from his head and eyes. Only to realize he was a whole 3-year-old lighter.

 “Oh shit, oh fuck, oh fuck,” he frantically looks around, already imagining the horror you’re going to have at the fact he just drowned his babygirl before—

He catches a glimpse of her tutu flailing under water with a foot within grasp as she waved her arms to get back up to the surface on her own. He snatched that ankle, yanks her in the air, and sets her upright. 

“Baby, are you okay?”

Sarah nods, blowing water out of nose. She seemed totally fine, really, just a little confused as to which way was up. Joel protectively wraps her body with his, blocks the next wave from knocking her out of his sight with his feet firmly planted and prepared this time.

“Shallow,” she says plainly, pointing back towards the shore, and Joel has nothing more to add but complete agreement. He grabs her arms securely and wades back, never once letting he go.

Now though, the thought of it is a lot funnier than when it was happening. 

“Almost lost her for a sec. Did you know those waves were like 10 feet high?"

"That's so not funny,” you scowl, although you could imagine you two little idiots getting wiped out by a controlled wave like a human sized super soaker, before retiring in defeat.

“Sarah, how about we stick to the toddler pool, okay?”

She gives two enthusiastic thumbs up in extra agreement. 

“Hey wait, I ain’t a toddler. what about me?” Tommy interjects.

Joel tuts. “You’re actin’ like one.” 

“Slides? Anyone?” The younger brother points behind him towards the water slide heaven.

Or as you view it, the bloodied noses, brush burn, cold shock lagoon.

“Can we do floaty one? Please mommy pleasepleaseplease—“ Sarah tugs at your arm incessantly. 

You grumble, but even Tommy is doing his best puppy eyed beg at you.

-

“Why are all these stairs—ugh—made of wood? Falling apart, termite ridden, not up to Miller Contracting Code—“

“They’re just fine, sweetie,” Joel reassures you. Although he too side eyes the state of the construction and wonders if this will be the first and last Miller family trip together.

The two of you finally catch up to the rest of the line, bending backwards to stretch your backs and sucking air.

You glance up at the perky fit ass that’s connected to Tommy above you, who’s just vibrating with excitement. He literally jogged up these stairs, two at a time, not even huffing, and he carried both sets of floats. This particular slide can do a two seater rider.

“I wanna slide with Mommy!” Sarah shouts. 

The four of you then look at the remaining buddies who need to reverse cowgirl floaty.

“I aint little spoonin’ you,” Joel says after they size each other up.

The worker who is helping you and Sarah get saddled up in the slide chimes in on Joel and Tommy conversation. “Smaller rider in the front.”

“That’s you,” they both say to each other in unison.

“I’m taller—“

“I’m older—“

“I’m not bottoming for you—“

“Why would you say it like that?”

“Get in the front, pops!”

“You first, kid, since ya got all that youthful energy—“

“JUST GET IN THE BOAT,” you shout over them, causing everyone to go quiet and look your way.

The light flashes green and you and Sarah are pushed off into the dark tunnel with an echoing “Wooooo!!!!” 

Tommy sticks his tongue out and gets in the front, Joel in the rear, the two of them fighting over foot placement and elbows squishing balls before the worker just kicks them down and hopes for the best.

You and Sarah gracefully emerge, skidding across the water gently before coming to a stop to disembark.

Your back is certainly killing you but you fake only smiles for your excited kid who thought that was a roller coaster.

A second later, Joel and Tommy’s floaty comes barreling down the slide next to yours—with no bodies in it—

OH sorry, one body, Tommy, coming down on his belly face first and—oh there’s Joel a moment later shooting out feet first and slamming into his brother as the two are catapulted way further into the pool than should be possible with the minimal flow of water coming.

Both disoriented Millers jump up from the water, shaking their heads vigorously. Tommy spits water from his mouth, just as Joel grasps his head and dunks him back under.

“I’m riding with your wife next time,” Tommy growls, rubbing his shoulder with a wince. 

Joel spits a stream of water on his face. “Over my dead body.”

“Your husband sucker kicked me in the back!”

“Oh yeah, not before he bit my damn ankles!”

“Maybe don’t shove your feet in my face?”

You sigh heavily. You’re kinda glad you didn’t have boys.

“Me n you next, right?” Tommy says your way, ignoring Joel’s death glare.

“No,” Joel interrupts once again to Tommy’s annoyance. “Because then Sarah would have to ride with me, and she doesn’t wanna, she wants to ride for her momma. Honestly babe, you’d be doin’ a dissatisfaction to your own daughter who’s only wish is to stick with her favorite person in the whole world,” he gleams as if he’d just presented the winning argument for a Nobel Peace award.

You shrug. “Okay, then you can ride with Tommy again.”

Joel’s eyes go wide. “Ya know sometimes kids need to learn hard lessons about not getting what they want and this is a perfect opportunity for Sarah. Sorry kid, you’re with uncle Tommy.”

After the second slide down, you and Joel’s backs are absolutely whipped.

The two of you don’t even need to communicate the envy you have of Tommy’s youthful body, springing back into action when he gestures towards another torture device:

“Let’s do the big one.”

“No. Hell no. I’m not a teen anymore. Body won’t survive it.”

“Yeah Tommy, you go ahead. That’s…Joel nor I would be able to get up from that.”

The younger Miller scoffs. “A slide? Seriously? You guys really are getting old.”

You and Joel look at one another. “Baby are we…getting old?” You ask incredulously.

Neither one of you are upset about it. Instead, you grin warmly at one another.

Getting old with the love of my life sounds like the best thing in the world. 

-

You make your way to the much safer, happier, safer, splashy, safer kiddie pool that is much safer for kids your daughter’s age.

As Sarah wades in the water up to her belly, Joel and Tommy huddle under the jellyfish water canopy of shade, sighing contently under the cool flow of water splashing their heads.

“I’m gonna go use the bathroom,” you announce, and Joel waves you off.

He never realized how fucking exhausting just walking and getting wet was. (He wonders if that’s what your life is like) 

“DADDY!” Sarah shouts, jumping in the water for the giant bucket overhead that she’s too short to reach.

Joel slaps his knees and gets to his feet, entertaining her as she gets absolutely pommeled by a few gallons of water.

They splash around together, him hoisting her in the air by her arms then dipping in again with smiles and laughter. It’s all fun, until he gets the odd itch there’s something off with you genuinely not being here.

 A seemingly single, girl dad all wet and shirtless, playing with his kid in the kiddie pool, the ONLY dad playing in the kiddie pool amongst all mothers… He looks up and sees every single woman in here eying him like a piece of meat, and he knows he's in deep shark territory.

Frantically looking around, he picks Sarah up like a football and waddles helplessly through the crowd of predators, desperately needing his wife back. 

As if sensing his trouble, he sighs relief when he sees you pumping your arms, steam billowing from your nose like a ranging bull and wading in like splitting the Red Sea, dead set on his rescue. His one and only great white shark here snap them all away with your snarls, growls, and hinged jaw. 

Joel immediately wraps his arm around you and never leaves your touch.

Eventually you all sit in the sand pit while Sarah sits between the three adults, making castles.

Joel clears his throat. “So how’s Maria doin’? Ain’t heard much lately.”

Your eyes go wide as you slap Joel’s shoulder.

“Ow—what!”

“They’re” you lower your voice, though sheepish Tommy can hear perfectly well. “They’re taking a break.”

“Oh—oh! Oh I’m—okay no that’s … good. Some times some space—“

“Actually,” Tommy says, but the way he brushes his elbow makes you snap back at Joel. 

“Stop it! You’re making this worse—“

“Nobody tells me anything!” Your husband whispers.

“Yeah and this is why!”

“Maria and me—“ Tommy starts again.

Joel winces when you bring your hand down on his bicep again. “Stop slapping me! You’re gonna give me slap AND sun burn!”

“Joel, seriously!”

“Woman, I swear!—“

“We’re pregnant.”

You both go silent, minus the clank of your sunglasses siding off and falling on poor Sarah’s noggin.

The younger Miller brother is radiating more anxiety than the sun UV rays right now. 

Joel quietly raises his hand up for a calm high five. You bare your teeth and quickly slap it down.

Tommy rubs his shoulder tensely. “I’m just…I don’t know. Nervous.” 

“Are you two…?”

“We’re …together. I think it was a cold shock but it—kinda put shit into perspective, ya know? I think even she admitted breaking things off was probably because of the pregnancy—before she even knew it. Was off hormonally but didn’t realize why until the test.”

“What did you two even fight about?”

“Tommy chuckles, suddenly realizing how stupid their argument was. “She got mad cause I left the toothpaste cap open on the sink.”

“Oh man, even I could have told you she was pregnant. Better get out now. They don’t get any better,” Joel teases sarcastically, bumping your shoulder in jest.

You smile warm bright and with an underlying venomous sting that even he can’t detect. “Hey Joel sweetie? Can I see your tongue?”

“Mmhm why?” He says, already sticking the whole thing out on display, wide and ready and trusting as always.

You toss a fistful of sand in his mouth. Joel doubles back and chokes, taking a moment to hack up the grains sticking to everything. As he coughs and spits and sputters, you rub Tommy’s shoulder.

“It’s gonna be okay. How are you feeling about it?”

He shrugs with a nervous laugh. “I don’t know what comes next. You guys did it after you were married. Feel like I’m all out of step now,” he laughs nervously. 

“Honey, it really doesn’t make a difference. Joel and I…we didn’t—“ you look down at Sarah who’s busy making bridges for her smudged up castle, before covering her ears with both palms slapped together like a head sandwich. “We didn’t plan her either. It just happened to be after we were married.”

Joel returns to the conversation with a hoarse choke. “Earned that one,” he croaks. After clearing his throat a bit, he finally slaps Tommy’s back. “Congrats, man. It’s really…it’s really the best thing…” he glances back over at you and Sarah, glowing in more ways than just the hot sun. He almost forgets time hasn’t stopped, that he’s not just oogling at his wife and baby like the greatest sight in the world (minus the fact he’s still got grains of sand under his tongue). He shakes his mind from your hypnotic glory before reassuring Tommy that everything is one day at a time.

Tommy agrees. “I just needed a minute to process it. I think—I’m actually—well… I’m excited…?”

You chuckle. “Is that a question?”

“I mean… I don’t know. I never gave it a thought. Never thought family life was for me. Maria is all for me, but I didn’t… I never really thought about having a family with her till …uh.”

“Till you saw how freaking awesome we are,” you boast proudly with your hands on your hips. Sarah has no idea what’s going on, but one look at you, your head held high with a dignified glint in your eye and sun radiating off you like the queen you are, and the little one mimics your posture to the tee like a mini me.

Tommy giggles and shakes his head. “Yeah. Something like that.”

You kiss Sarah’s head with a big smooch before she goes back to making holes in the sand. 

“So you’re happy.”

He smiles. It’s soft, sincere, and so easy to overlook unless you knew what a genuine human being Tommy Miller can be once you strip back the ego and playful charisma. “I’m happy. But still … anxious.”

You can’t contain your inner excitement, shaking and then launching into a Tommy with the biggest, tightest hug you can muster as you swing him side to side. “Listen its gonna be rough sometimes but its gonna be magical, and I know you two are going to do great. You’re gonna be such a great dad Tommy, I know it.”

He’s relieved to hear it from someone for the first line. As if it was the one thing he needed to know.

“I love you, and I say this respectfully, but you better get your ass back over to her as soon as we get home.” You put your hand on his shoulder. 

“Yeah yeah I know.”

Your smile wains for a moment, quiet yet almost threatening. He can feel the tightening of your finger tips digging into his muscles.

Tommy picks up on your thoughts real quick.

 “You can’t get all angry at Maria just cuz she didn’t tell you first.”

“I guess I’m just CHOPPED LIVER to her, her BEST FRIEND and she doesn’t even—!” you start stammering, getting louder and more agitated before Joel puts his hand on your head like an off button. “I need to calm down.” You pinch your fingers to your thumbs and take a deep breath, channeling inner zen. It suddenly dawns on you, the convenient timing of this all. “Oh my god, I can’t wait!”

“For what?” Joel asks curiously.

“Um—to be an aunty! Sarah with a cousin!” You quickly reply. “Uncle Joel!”

Shit. 

Joel gives you a confused look. It definitely wasn’t what you were gonna say. He knows that.

“Are you—?”

“Hot dogs!” Sarah shouts, pointing towards the cart that is sizzling up some fresh wieners and whose scent is wafting into your baby’s bloodhound-like nose. Thank goodness for it, as Joel and Tommy are seemingly distracted now with their equally hungry bellies.

Joel stands and dusts off his creaky knees from the sand. “You want one, babe?” He offers a hand out to help.

You rub your belly with a frown. “I’m good, I’m just gonna sit here for a bit. You go get her two.”

He winks at you before rushing off to Sarah, who’s already dragging Tommy to the cart about to con him in getting her some ice cream too.

-

By the End of day, everyone has warm skin, dried hair, droopy eyes. Sarah and Tommy and passed out on each other in the back. Tommy’s skin is tender to the touch, already starting to flake since he didn't want sun screen. 

Joel drives silently. He looks at you, who's slowly succumbing to sleep on the passenger as you stare out the window peacefully. 

At home, you rinse Sarah’s hair in bath and she's barely able to sit up. You pat her dry before she collapses in bed. 

Joel asks Tommy to watch after Sarah. The younger Miller nods, crashing on the couch with the fan on high.

“Psst!” Joel taps your shoulder. You were about to get undressed yourself when he nodded his head to follow. 

“What?” You ask curiously, closing the front door behind you as he sneaks you off to the community pool that’s closed after 6. Joel had maintenance keys to do any service stuff for the neighborhood, which included access 24 hours.

“Are you breaking into the pool?” You scoff.

“Me? No. I got clearance to work here. You? Yeah. Sneaky bad girl—“

The gate clicks open and Joel ropes you inside quickly.

You giggle as he latches the gate shut, his arm still around your waist. “What are we doing here, Miller?”

“What? It’s adult swim hour.” He draws you in close, his body pressed against yours. “Don’t ya wanna go skinny dipping’ with me?”

“I’m gonna keep my suit on this time.” You strip off your shirt and soaked shorts, and Joel does the same, making sure to watch you fully before he blinds himself with his own shirt.

You slip into the pool, sighing. It’s calm and quiet, cool to your sun-warmed skin. You were looking forward to just floating and unwinding until—

Joel rushes to you, wading in the water. You let out a shriek as he grabs your ass under water and wraps your legs around him. Cupping your face and kissing you, he backs you up against the wall. 

“I wanted to do this all day,” he rasps, sucking your neck with passionate kisses. “You look so fuckin’ amazing.”

Despite the arousal, the needy whimpers you let out as he ruts his hard on against the seam of your crotch, you gulp. Your mind had been distracted all day, but now seemed like a good a time as ever.

"I had that appointment,” you tell him softly.

He continues to pepper you with hot kisses, taking your bathing suit strap down your shoulders. Mmm? Which one?" He bites into your shoulder blade teasingly.

"Ya know. With Spoon being protective around me..."

"Yeah, she loves ya,” he hums. He pulls your body flush against his, feeling the hard and soft outline of his torso and chest. 

“…And… all the Pepsi, I’ve been drinking.”

He chuckles softly. "That ain't a medical emergency baby.” He continues to kiss down your neck. “Besides, ya only get like that when you're...." 

He stops kissing, pulling away with realization in his eyes. H parts his lips, as if he’s let out a breath but hasn’t sucked another in. Looking to you, really, genuinely, as if it’s the first time today he’s actually put all his attention to you. Consciously knowing he should have known the whole damn time.

And you confirm it all with casual smile:

“I’m pregnant.” 

There’s a frog that croaks from the grass next to you. The water filter plugging every so often in the distance.

"You’re....pregnant,” he repeats.

"Um yeah. What do you … think about that?”

He tries to find the correct words. Its like a bunch of lines of code are rambling through his brain, visibly on his face, but he can't help the first honest thought that tumbles out his mouth: “My dick is hard.”

You both combust into laughter.

He rubs his forehead on your collar embarrassingly. “I’m sorry shit that’s… that was my first thought. Oh my god, are you serious? Like really???"

You nod biting your lip.

"Holy shit, oh my god thats--! Wait are you… are you okay, are you excited? I mean, shit, I know we talked about it, kinda, but—but you don't have to be, we don’t have to--"

You can’t hide the gleeful smile bursting through your teeth. “I’m excited.”

He hugs and kisses you. “Me too!” He lets out a breath before gyrating his hips deeper against you, grinding the excitement directly against your cunt. “M’sorry, I cant help it. Fuck oh my god."

“Me too—Joel—please—I want to—“

He slips himself out of his trousers while rubbing your clit through your bottoms. "I knew you were glowing today. Thought it was just me. Fuck. Gonna make me a Daddy again. Wife's got such a fertile pussy. Shit. When do ya think it was?"

"That night--in the car. We went onna date"

"Shit really did breed ya on some back road. Fuck—“ he squeezes his eyes tight. “M’ not gonna last.”

“Should we be—doing this? In the pool? Thought no bodily fluids…”

“Its fine—I’ll clean it—“ he hastily rubs himself against your entrance

You chuckle. “The whole pool? That’s too much. We can get out and—“

“No—baby fuck I gotta have you now. Can’t wait another—“he slips his tip inside, and the two of you groan, frozen and clinging to one another. “ahhhhhh—second.”

You wrap your arms around his broach shoulders tightly, your noses rubbing against one another. You both huff, mouths gaping. You begin to ride him slowly. 

“That’s my girl—that’s my momma,” he groans. One meaty hand is planted firmly under your ass, assisting your bounces, the other flat against the pool edge, holding you up so you don’t bruise your back. His biceps flex deliciously in the water. 

You feel dizzy and alive all at once. Panting against one another, neither of you can contain your excited smirks. The thrill of your pregnancy, of doing it in a pool, of being sneaky and yet being the age you are now…it felt surreal. 

Or maybe that was just the pregnancy hormones all over again…

It’s as if he read your mind. “Holy fuck I can’t wait—I can’t wait—“ he mumbles again and again. He’s thinking about your body, your belly, breasts, milk, 2am cravings and baby shoes and a new crib he can make, strollers and car seats and you and his whole family in his arms—

“I love you so much,” you keen. He fills you just right. He always had. A damn professional at making you sing every time. 

“I love you.” He thrusts a little more incessantly, as best he can through the water. Your bodies ripple waves outwards from your motions, disturbing the pool’s serenity. 

“We’re gonna have a baby,” you jeer.

“F-fuck—say it again—“ he growls.

“Gonna—gonna be a mommy—make you a Daddy again—!“

“More—Fuck—gimme more—“

neither of you have more to give at the moment. Seizing up, fingers clawing into one another’s skin, you both gasp, stilling with his cock rammed deep into you until you could feel his balls twitch against your bottom. He lets out an animalistic grunt with the first squirt of his cream into you, and your walls soon follow with perfect flutters that has him stuttering.

“I’m —so in love—“ he gasps, teeth grinding as he ruts his seed deep into you. He can barely see straight. 

“Me—me too,” you moan. You feel like you’re on fire despite the cool water surrounding you. Everything hot and tense and heavenly as you ride out that high. 

It takes a moment for you two to relax, still wrapped in each other’s embrace. It feels like home.

As he’s huffing into your shoulder, he starts laughing. Big and hearty and full of love. “You know what this means?”

You shake your head.

“I can finally kick Tommy out of family gatherings!”

You roll your eyes, unable to hide your own smirk.

“FOUR!” He shouts. “I’M GONNA HAVE ANOTHER BABY! That Makes FOUR OF US! Fantastic F—!”

You slap your palm over his lips. “Have you forgotten we’re not supposed to be here??”

He shrugs, kissing your hand instead.

You get yourselves as decent as possible before sneaking back out and over to your house. What was a very exhausting day just reinvigorated both your spirits for the rest of the night.

Tommy is still drooling into the couch when you tip toe back inside with shushed giggles.

“Oh my god—“ you gasp. Your earlier thought dawning on you.

Joel cups your belly, holding you close. “What is it?”

You smash his cheeks with both hands. “Maria and I are both going to have babies—together!”

Joel’s face frowns despite your obvious excitement. He glances at Tommy—the poor bastard having no idea what storm is about to hit.

You stomp your feet happily, smiling like a clown. But it quickly fades, and suddenly you’re breathing heavily, eyes shining with tears that begin to spill.

“What—what’s wrong baby?”

“I— I don’t—“ you hiccup and sniffle, unable to hide your emotional turmoil. “I want—I want—“

He’s desperately wiping your sudden tears with his thumbs, terrified of what’s going on right now.

“I WANT A MILKSHAAAAAKKKEEEE!” You bawl, finally tilting your head back and crying loudly into the air.

Tommy stirs awake, confused. “What’s wrong? What the hell did you do?”

Joel stares off at him. Jesus. it’s absolutely insane how quickly it all was happening again.

Sarah walks into the living room, awakened by your raucous crying. She rubs her eyeballs. “W-what’s wrong with—mommy?” She asks, concern dripping from her voice. 

“Nothing baby, mommy is just—“

But the sounds of your loud, child-like sobs triggers Sarah’s worry, making her eyes water and tears spilling too.

Now both of you were crying.

Tommy covers his ears, looking between the two of you. “What is happening!”

The older, very older, Miller just puts his hands on his hips. He’s certain by the end of this pregnancy, he’ll lose full hearing in his left ear.

“We’ve got a rough year ahead of us, brother.”

Tommy tilts his head. “We?”

- - - -

Taglist:

@harriedandharassed @lola8888673 @its-nebuleuse @zliteraturehoe @merz-8 @joeldjarin @pascalscoffin @pedroshotwifey @ghostslillady @innerpersonunknown @missladym1981 @mrsoharaxx @survivingandenduring @milla-frenchy @cockykookiee @fairytale07 @daddy-din @pedropascalsbbg @spookyxsam @somehopeatlast @millercontracting @pedrostories @mishala005 @theoraekenslover @animez96 @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @puduvallee @cassiecasluciluce @loohoop @himboelover @callsignwidow @wintersquirrel @fluffygoffpanda @picketniffler @bbyanarchist @94namkooksworld @urlivingdeadgirl @yourmommycallsmemommy @kellielovesmovies @whoaitspascal87 @yournameyn @jeewrites

[slaybinnie]

HUMIN SMUTT PLEASE 🙏

PROBATION

ׂ╰┈➤ Humin (baku) x fem!reader

𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃 Warnings: explicit sexual content (18+ MDNI), explicit language, KINDA CRACK FIC, reader has boobs, humin has a boob obsession (lolz), dw I don't mention the size.

about: Humin usually seeks comfort in touching y/n’s chest.. privately. But when he crosses the line in public, he’s but on restriction. Oh the horror! How long can Humin last his boob probation? (lol)

note: WHO DOUBTED MEEE?? I ended up finishing this fic and it kicked my ass lolzers but it was so fun to write. thanks anon for requesting ILY. MUAH

WORD COUNT: 5k <3

Okay you admit it, this was partially your fault. The first time Humin had ever put his hands in your shirt was by your suggestion. 

It was a cold day and you were both curled up on your couch watching some random drama he had put on. You'd noticed Baku rubbing his hands together periodically with that adorable frustrated expression he got when he was annoyed. 

You reached over to touch his hands and they were freezing, “Your hands are so cold.” 

“Well yeah, the heating in my house is so bad,” he grumbled, even though you both knew he just ran cold naturally.

Without really thinking about it, you grabbed his hands and guided them under your oversized sweater, pressing his palms against your warm stomach. “Better?”

Humin grinned and nodded, “Much better!” His thumbs traced small circles on your skin, and you tried to ignore the way it made your heart skip.

That innocent moment had somehow evolved into... this. Since then Humin's hands seemed to have claimed permanent residence under your shirts, hoodies, and sweaters. What had started as a simple solution to his cold hands had become his go-to comfort method.

What had started as something innocent had slowly become something much more intimate as time went on. You weren't even sure when it had shifted but soon enough, Humin had discovered that your chest was the perfect temperature for warming up his hands. Your stomach was no longer an option for him. 

You'd be lying on the couch together, his head on your shoulder while you scrolled through your phone, and his hands would automatically find their way under your shirt to cup your breasts. It wouldn’t always be in a sexual way, though you were very affected sometimes, but just for comfort. 

“Mmm, you're so warm here,” Baku would say, sleepily, his thumbs brushing over your nipples unconsciously. 

Sometimes he'd even massage them gently while you watched TV or he'd trace patterns on your skin, and also play with the lace of your bra until you were squirming beside him. He seemed to find some kind of peace in the action which was fine by you. But Humin had a big problem. The problem of not differentiating between “at home” and “literally anywhere else.”

It was fine when he did it at home. More than fine, actually. You'd grown to love the way he'd automatically slip his hands under your shirt when you cuddled on the couch, or how he'd sleepily reach for you in the morning. But gosh, Humin had absolutely zero sense of appropriate timing or location.

You'd lost count of how many times you'd had to grab his wrists and gently pull his hands away when you were out in public. At the grocery store when he got bored waiting in line. During study sessions at the library when he got restless. Even at cafes when he'd absent-mindedly reach for your chest while scrolling through his phone.

“Baku, no,” had become your most frequently used phrase and honestly, the worst part? He has no idea why you were stopping him. He’d give you these genuinely confused looks as if the middle of the campus quad was an appropriate place for his hands to be wandering under your clothes.

Today’s situation had been the most annoying though, which led to your final decision of banning his touches. 

You and Humin had decided to catch the latest action movie on a Friday night. The theater was packed, and you'd managed to snag seats in the middle of a row, surrounded by other moviegoers. The previews were still playing when you felt Humin's familiar cold fingers slip under the hem of your sweater.

You didn't think anything of it at first as you were expecting his usual gentle touch on your stomach. The theater was dark enough, and you were tucked away in the corner where no one would notice. But his hands moved higher than usual, and instead of stopping at your bra like he did in public, his fingers slipped underneath the fabric to cup your bare breast.

You jumped so hard you nearly spilled your drink and a quiet gasp escaped your lips. 

“Humin.” you whispered angrily, grabbing his wrist and yanking his hand away. “What the hell?”

He looked genuinely confused, how annoying. “What? I wasn’t-”

“You can't just…” you took a deep breath “grab my boobs in a movie theater.”

“Why? There's barely anyone here. And I always touch you?”

Your eye twitched in frustration. You wanted to raise your voice to get your point across, but since you were in a movie theater, you just rolled your eyes and ignored him for the rest of the film.

-

After the movie was over you walked out in a tense silence. Humin kept trying to hold your hand, but you pulled away each time, still irritated. 

“Baby, come on,” he whined as you both got into his car. “What's the big deal? It's not like anyone saw anything.”

You turned to face him. “That's not the point, Baku! You can't just... feel me up in public. It's cringe and inappropriate!”

“But I always touch you,” he said, that same dumb confused expression on his face that made you want to kill him. “You’ve never minded before.”

“Because we were at home, Humin. At fucking home! Not in a movie theater, not at the grocery store, and not at the library!” You replied, turning your head to look out the window.

After a few minutes of silence Humin spoke, “Y/n. I’m sorry about touching you like that in public. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable but I did. I promise I won’t do it again.”

You crossed your arms over your chest and stared at Baku's apologetic face. His genuine remorse was clear, but you wanted to have a little fun with this. “I forgive you.”

Humin smiled and was about to say something until you said, “But I’m going to have to put you on restriction.”

“Restrict- what the fuck is that?” 

“Probation. You’re cut off. You’re not allowed to touch my boobs until you fully understand my frustration.” 

Humin's eyes widened in horror like you'd just told him the worse news of his life. Well, maybe this was the worst news of his life. “What? No! You can't do that to me!” 

“Well, I just did so…” You shrugged your shoulders, trying to ignore how his bottom lip was already starting to wobble. “Maybe this will teach you the difference between private and public spaces.”

The rest of the ride home was filled with Humin's dramatic sighs and protests.

“But what if my hands get cold?”

“Then you’ll wear gloves like a normal person.”

“What if I need comfort?”

“I don’t know, hug a pillow.”

“What if I can't sleep without touching you?”

"Then you'll be very tired."

“But I can’t survive without sucking them!” 

“Humin shut up!” 

By the time you reached his home, Humin looked like a kicked puppy. He followed you inside, hovering around you like that would change your mind. 

“This is cruel and unusual punishment,” he sighed, throwing himself onto the couch, “I'm going to die. Actually die. From sadness.” 

“You're so dramatic,” you said, but you couldn't help but smile a little. 

“Dramatic? Would if I withheld my penis from you? How would you like that huh?” Baku whined then buried his face in a couch cushion and let out a muffled scream.

“What the fuck is actually wrong with you.” You responded. 

“Nothing is wrong with me! I just love you is all.” Baku said, finally looking up from the couch cushion. 

You laughed then sat next to him on the couch, slowly running your hands through his hair. He immediately leaned into your touch, eyes fluttering shut. 

“So I can touch you now?” he mumbled, hope lacing his voice.

“No,” you said firmly, pulling your hand away.

“Goddammit woman!” 

-

So turns out Humin was the most dramatic person on the planet when he didn't get his way. He'd taken to wearing the most pathetic, sad expressions whenever you were around. He'd sigh heavily every few minutes, like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

When you cuddled on the couch, he'd place his hands on your waist or shoulders, then let out pitiful sighs like he was being tortured.

Mind you, it was only Saturday. One day after his ban. 

“You're being ridiculous,” you told him when you caught him staring longingly at your chest.

“I'm not being ridiculous,” he muttered, but his pout suggested otherwise.

“You're pouting.”

“I don't pout.”

“You're literally pouting right now.”

By Tuesday his friends had started to notice his very… very unusual behavior.

“Dude, what's wrong with you?” Gotak asked during a group lunch, watching as Humin stabbed at his food with unnecessary aggression.

“Nothing's wrong with me,” Humin grumbled.

“You've been weird all day,” Juntae added. “You keep sighing and staring at Y/n like she kicked your puppy.”

“She might as well have,” Humin muttered under his breath.

You kicked him under the table. “Don't be dramatic.”

“I'm not being dramatic!”

Sieun leaned forward, “Did you two have a fight?”

“We didn't have a fight,” you said quickly, shooting Humin a warning look. “Baku is just being a baby about something completely reasonable.”

“I am not being a baby!”

“You cried yesterday because I wouldn't let you put your hands under my hoodie.”

“I didn't cry! My eyes were just... watery.”

Sieun, Juntae, and Gotak exchanged confused looks but let it go. 

By Wednesday, you were starting to feel a little bad for Humin. Not bad enough to lift his punishment, but bad enough that you were considering it..

You had just gotten back from classes and were in his bedroom changing into more comfortable clothes. Normally when you were at home you never wore a bra. It was just more comfortable that way. Humin had gotten so used to it that he barely even noticed anymore. Well, he noticed, but it was just normal for him.

But now, with him on probation, you realized this might be the perfect opportunity to mess with him just a little before ending his punishment. 

You put on a fitted shirt that showed every detail of your chest and some comfy shorts then walked into the living room where Humin was spread on the couch, still looking pitiful. Cute, but pitiful. 

“Hey,” you said casually, settling down next to him.

Humin looked over at you, and you watched in real time as his brain processed what he was seeing. His eyes went wide, then narrowed, then wide again.

“Y/n,” he said slowly.

“Hm?”

“Why did you even put on a shirt?”

You tilted your head, like you were confused, “What do you mean?” 

“I can see your tits through the shirt!” 

You looked down at your shirt innocently, as if you hadn't deliberately chosen the most fitted top you owned. “Can you? I didn't notice.”

Humin's jaw dropped. “You're doing this on purpose.”

“Doing what on purpose?” you asked, stretching your arms above your head in a stretch. The movement made your shirt ride up slightly and pull tighter across your chest.

Humin made a strangled noise. “You're evil. Actually evil.”

“I'm just wearing a shirt, baby,” you said, settling back against the couch. “It's not my fault you're... distracted.”

“Distracted?” His voice cracked slightly. “Y/n, you know exactly what you're doing to me right now.”

You turned to face him fully, watching as his eyes immediately dropped to your chest before snapping back up to your face. “What am I doing to you?”

“You're... you're…” He gestured helplessly at your shirt. 

“Use your words, baby,” you teased.

Humin let out a frustrated groan and buried his face in his hands. “You’re giving me blue balls!” 

“No I’m not!” 

“Yes, you are. You're the worst girlfriend ever.”

“Aw, that's not very nice,” you pouted, leaning closer to him. “Maybe I should add another week to your punishment.”

“No!” Humin's head shot up, eyes wide with panic. “No, no, no. You're the best girlfriend ever. So beautiful  and funny. I love you so much.”

You laughed at his dramatic change in tune. “You're being very cute right now.”

For the next hour, you continued your torture. You'd lean over to grab the remote, giving him a perfect view down your shirt. You'd stretch, arch your back, and basically do everything you could to drive him crazy without actually letting him touch you. 

Thursday came and guys were having dinner with friends and they still had so many questions.

“Seriously dude, what is wrong with you? We tried to drop it last time but I can’t ignore it anymore” Gotak asked.

“Y/n's still being mean to me,” Humin mumbled.

“Stop lying to your friends.” 

“I’m not lying. You're torturing me!”

“How is she torturing you?” Gotak asked, looking between you two with confusion.

“She just…” Humin trailed off, clearly not wanting to explain the situation to his friends. “She's withholding affection.”

“Withholding affection?” Juntae pressed.

“Yeah, like... she won't let me…” Humin caught your warning glare and quickly changed course. “She won't let me hold her hand!”

His friends exchanged confused looks.

“You're being weird about hand holding?” Sieun asked slowly.

“Very weird,” Gotak agreed.

“I'm not weird! I just love holding her hand! And she's being stingy with the hand holding!”

You buried your face in your hands, torn between embarrassment and amusement at his terrible cover story.

“This is the weirdest conversation I've ever been part of,” Sieun said.

-

Later that evening, you were curled up on Humin's couch, still giggling about his ridiculous hand-holding excuse.

“Hand holding?” you said, holding in a giggle. “That's the best you could come up with?”

“I panicked!” Humin flopped down beside you dramatically. “I'm not good under pressure, okay? I just wanted them to stop asking questions.”

You laughed, and the sound made Humin's expression soften.

“I love your laugh,” he said quietly.

“Even when I'm laughing at you?”

“Especially then.”

You looked at him as the two of you cuddled on the couch. His hair was messy, his eyes were soft, and despite his dramatics, he looked genuinely happy just to be near you. 

“Can I ask you something?” he said quietly after a while.

“Sure.”

“Do you like it? When I touch you like that, I mean. Not in public obviously, but at home.”

You turned to look at him, surprised by the uncertainty in his voice. “Of course I like it. Why would you even ask that?”

“I don't know. This whole week made me think that maybe you just put up with it because you felt bad for me or because you felt like you had to or something.”

“Baku.” You shifted so you were facing him fully. “I love the way you touch me. I love that you find comfort in it. The only thing I don't love is when you try to do it in front of other people.”

Relief flooded his face. “Really?”

“Really. And you want to know a secret?” You leaned closer, dropping your voice to a whisper. “Sometimes when you're just holding me like that, playing with the lace on my bra or just touching me  gently. It drives me crazy.”

Humin's eyes darkened slightly. "Yeah?"

“Yeah. A good crazy. Like I can barely concentrate on whatever we're doing because all I can focus on is your hands.”

“Fuck,” he breathed, his grip on you tightening slightly. “You can't say things like that to me right now.”

“Why not?”

“Because I've been thinking about touching you for six days straight and if you keep talking like that I'm going to lose my mind.”

You bit your lip, studying his face. His pupils were dilated and you could see the way he was holding himself back. It was actually pretty hot, seeing him like this.

“Well,” you said slowly, “I suppose you have been very good today.”

“Have I?” he asked hopefully.

“Mmhm. Very well behaved. Very respectfulish.” You traced a finger along his jawline, enjoying the way he shivered at the light touch. “I think you've learned your lesson.”

“I have. I definitely have. I'm a changed man.”

You laughed, “Okay. Your punishment is officially over.”

The words were barely out of your mouth before Humin was kissing you, his hands immediately going to cup your face. It wasn't rushed or desperate like you'd expected, but slow, like he was savoring the moment.

When you broke apart, he rested his forehead against yours and said, “I love you.”

“I love you too baby.” 

Humin grinned and leaned down to kiss your neck, his hands finally sliding under your shirt to rest on your waist. His touch was gentle and his hands were cold. The two of you shuffled so that you were sitting on his lap. 

“I want to see them,” he said, looking up at you with dark eyes. “Please?”

You nodded, and he carefully pushed your shirt up, his breath catching when you were revealed to him.

“So beautiful,” he whispered. “You're so beautiful.”

He leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your chest, right over your heart, and you smoothed your fingers through his hair.

“Can I suck on them?” he asked, and the question was so direct and honest that you laughed.

“Of course baby.”

He didn't need to be told twice. His mouth latched onto your nipple, and the feeling made your back arch. He sucked gently at first, then with more pressure when you made a soft sound of approval.

“Missed this,” he mumbled against your skin, switching to your other breast. “Missed this so much.”

His free hand continued to knead and caress, and you got lost in the sensation. You missed this too. The way Humin touched you like you were his treasure, like you were his whole world.

“Feels good,” you breathed, and he hummed against your skin in response.

He took his time, switching between gentle kisses and firmer sucking, using his tongue to tease and his teeth to just barely graze your nipple. Your fingers tightened in his hair, and he groaned at the sensation.

“Humin,” you gasped when he bit down a little harder.

“You like that?” he asked, looking up at you with dark eyes. “You like when I bite?”

“You know what I like.”

“I want you to say it,” he said, his thumb brushing over your other nipple. “Tell me everything you like.”

“I like when you bite,” you said breathlessly. “I like when you suck hard enough to leave marks. I like when you use your tongue to…oh!”

He'd taken your other nipple into his mouth while you were talking, sucking hard just like you'd described. Your words dissolved into soft moans as he worked you over with his mouth and hands.

“You're so sensitive,” he murmured, switching between your breasts. “So responsive. I could do this for hours.”

“Please,” you gasped, not even sure what you were asking for.

“Please what, baby? Tell me what you want.”

“I want... I want you to keep going. Don't stop.”

“I won't stop,” he promised, his hands sliding down to grip your hips. “I'm going to love every inch of you. I'm going to make up for every day I couldn't touch you.”

Humin flipped you on your back so that he was hovering above you. He took a moment to just look at you, “I can't believe you're mine,” he said, his voice full of awe.

“I'm yours,” you confirmed. “All yours.”

Humin smiled and took in your nipple in his mouth again, his hand trailing down to pull your pajama shorts off. 

“Baku,” you whimpered when he bit down gently on your nipple.

“Hm?”

Instead of answering with words, you took his hand and guided it down your body, past the waistband of your panties. He groaned when he felt how wet you were.

“All this for me?” he asked, his fingers starting to move in slow, teasing circles around your clit.

You nodded as you moaned loudly, sensitive from not being touched in a week. 

“So wet, Y/n.” He whispered, voice thick with desire. “So perfect like this. Falling apart for me.”

Your head tipped back against the couch cushions, a soft whimper escaping you. Humin kissed your cheek, then your jaw, then moved lower again to kiss the swell of your breast. 

His fingers slipped lower, circling your entrance but not pushing in, just teasing. You let out a sound of frustration, and he let out a low laugh. “Use your words, baby.”

“I want your fingers,” you whispered. “Inside me. Please.”

The moment you said it, he obliged, slowly sliding two fingers into your heat. You gasped and your back arched as your hands flew to grip his shoulders. “Fuck!”

Shh,” he murmured, curling his fingers just right. “Let me take care of you.”

He set a steady rhythm, pumping in and out of you as his thumb found your clit again. Your body responded instantly—hips rocking, breath hitching, thighs trembling around his hand.

“That’s it,” he whispered, never taking his eyes off of you. “You’re so fucking beautiful like this. You always look so good when I’m touching you.”

You felt like you were going crazy, your body wasa over-aware of everything being said and done. “I’m close,” you breathed, barely able to speak. “Please, don’t stop.”

“I’m not stopping,” he promised as his fingers pressed deeper into you. 

With a cry, you came hard around his fingers. Your body jerked as the wave crashed over you. Humin held you through your climax, his free hand stroking your thigh as he whispered praises into your skin.

He kissed your forehead. “You okay?”

“Yes but, It was so good.” You said as your body sunk deeper into the couch as you tried to catch your breath. 

Humin stayed close, his fingers slowly pulling out of you with gentle care. He brought his hand to his mouth, tasting you with a soft groan that made your thighs twitch.

Can’t believe I went a whole week without this,” he murmured, trailing kisses across your collarbone. “Lift your hips baby.” 

You lifted your hips and Humin tugged your now soaked panties down your legs. He ran his hands along your thighs, then leaned down to press kisses to the inside of each one then pressed a firm kiss to your clit. 

You gasped when his lips made contact with your core and a soft surprised moan caught in your throat. His tongue flicked over your clit in slow, deliberate strokes. He wasn’t rushing it. He was taking his time, savoring every reaction you gave him.

“Humin,” you breathed, voice already trembling again.

He hummed in response, the vibration sending a jolt through your whole body. His hands gripped your thighs, keeping you open for him as he worked his tongue on the place you needed him the most. He’d always been good at this but now it felt like he was determined to remind you exactly how much you’d missed this week.

You reached for him, one hand fisting in his hair, and he groaned softly when you tugged. His tongue pressed harder and faster when your hips started to buck into his face, he paused and sucked your clit into his mouth.

You choked nearly jerking away, but his grip on your thighs tightened. “Stay still,” he murmured, lips brushing your skin. “Let me take care of you, baby. ”

Your head tipped back in pleasure. Your body burning with pleasure and your nerves buzzing. You could barely think. All you could do was feel. 

Humin kept going until your whole body was trembling and your moans were little whimpers. Your second orgasm hit stronger than the first, and you cried out in pleasure. 

After your orgasm Humin didn’t stop. He kept licking you through it, even sucking your clit. “You taste so good,” he murmured between licks. “I could do this for hours.”

Finally it was getting to be too much, you were moaning continuously and you were pushing weakly at his head, oversensitive and gasping.

“Too much,” you cried.

Humin finally let up and gave your clit one last soft kiss before lifting his head. His lips were slick, and there was a soft look in his eyes. “You’re unreal,” he whispered, brushing your hair away from your face. “So fucking pretty when you cum.”

You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down into a kiss. He melted into the kiss and his hands slowly found there way back to your chest, thumbing at your nipples. 

“Humin, I need a break,” you said pulling away from the kiss.

“Of course baby. We don’t have to go all the way tonight.”

“No! I want to go all the way, I just need a breather.” You responded, kissing his lips. 

“Thats fine! Want to watch a movie?” 

You shook your head no and pointed to the obvious bulge in his pants, “I can help take the edge off until I’m ready.” 

“You don’t have to do that, I can wait. Or I can take care of it in the bathroom-”

“No! I want to do it.” 

“Yeah?” he asked, his voice low, already affected.

You nodded slowly, “Let me take care of you, baby. You’ve been so patient.”

He swallowed hard, “You sure?”

“Very.” You kissed the corner of his mouth. 

He sat back as you shifted to the floor in front of him, pressing your palms to his thighs. His breathing was heavy as he watched you, and his hands rested awkwardly on his knees like he was trying not to grab you. You ran your fingers up his thighs, teasing the waistband of his sweats before tugging them down.

Humin helped you ease them off, his erection springing free. He looked painfully hard.

You leaned forward to kiss the tip, just a soft press of your lips, and he let out a shaky breath. “Fuck,” he muttered, head tipping back.

“And you call me sensitive.” 

When you finally took him in your mouth, his hips jerked up and he let out a string of curses. 

“Fuck, baby, your mouth feels so good,” he groaned, his hands gripping the ends of the couch.

You hummed around him in response, taking him deeper. Every reaction made you want to give him more. 

You took your time with him, using your tongue and lips to drive him crazy. When you could tell he was getting close, you pulled back, ignoring his whimper of protest.

“You can’t come two times. You know that.” 

“But-”

“I’m ready, Humin.” You said, cutting off his protest. 

His breath hitched as you cupped him, wrapping your fingers gently around his length. You got up from your knees and placed yourself over his lap, slowly sinking down onto his length. Both of you moaned at the sensation, your eyes falling closed as you adjusted to the feeling of being filled.

“Fuck Y/n, you feel incredible,” Humin moaned, his hands going to your hips.

You started to move slowly, savoring the feeling of being connected to him like this. His hands roamed your body freely, stopping to cup your breasts as you rode him.

“So perfect,” he murmured, his thumbs brushing over your nipples. “You're so damn perfect like this. Riding me. I’m the only one who gets to see you like this, hm?” 

You leaned down, pressing your forehead to his, lips barely brushing his in a soft, lingering kiss, “Yes Humin, only you.” 

Slowly, you picked up your pace, riding him faster and clenching him in. You felt him deepen his grip and his breathing get uneven as you slid down and back up again. 

He pulled you down for another kiss, and the angle change made you both moan into each other's mouths. 

You slowed your pace, leaning forward to press your hands against his chest, grounding yourself. His lips found your neck, trailing soft, featherlight kisses.

“Touch yourself,” he requested breathlessly. “I want to watch you touch yourself while you ride me.” 

“Fuck Humin,” you said but did as he asked.  Your fingers found your clit as you continued to move on top of him and stimulation was almost too much. 

“That's it,” he encouraged, hands guiding your hips, “Keep going.” 

Your free hand tangled in his hair as you picked up momentum again. Your eyes locked and you moaned at the lustful look behind his. 

Your hands left his hair and he leaned down to take your breast into his mouth for the 100th time today. You felt yourself tipping over the edge and you couldn’t hold it anymore. 

“Humin,” you gasped

“I know, baby. I can feel you tightening around me. Let go for me.”

Humin pushed your hand away from your clit and replaced it with his hand. The stimulation from his fingers was all you needed. You came with a cry, your body clenched around him as your third orgasm hit. 

The feeling of you coming around him was enough to push Humin over the edge too, and he thrusted into you one last time before spilling his seed into you.

You collapsed against his chest, both of you breathing heavily. His arms wrapped around you immediately, holding you close as you both came down from your high. 

For a moment, you stayed wrapped in each other’s arms, heartbeats slowing to match, skin sticky and warm. You were the one to break the silence, “Are you okay?” 

“I should be asking you that, you’re the one who came three times.”

You laughed, “Light work.” 

Humin smiled and kissed you softly. “We should probably shower.”

You yawned, “Probably.” 

“You’re not going to get off of me are you?” Humin asked.

“Nope.”

-

AND SCENE. Erm... thank you queens for reading. Was very very fun to write this :D REQUEST IF U WANT

[carry-the-sky]

gold rush

Soho, 1800.

“Did they say why?” said Crowley.

“Change of plans,” Aziraphale replied around a mouthful of chocolate. “I’m apparently needed here, in the bookshop. Battling the, ah.” He swallowed, looking away. “The forces of evil, and what have you.”

“Hungry work,” Crowley said solemnly, offering up the chocolate tin again.

Aziraphale feigned indecision for only a moment, practically wiggling as he leaned in to inspect the array of sweet morsels. “I really shouldn’t,” he said, selecting one from the middle. Crowley watched from behind the relative safety of his glasses, unblinking, as the angel took a bite.

“Mm.” Aziraphale tipped his head back, eyes fluttering half-shut. “Oh, that’s divine. I could eat every last one of those, right here.”

Crowley made a mental note to thank his friends at Debauve & Gallais for their suggestion to present the sweets in alluring little rows. “Well, don’t stand on ceremony,” he said, giving the tin a shake. “Lots to celebrate. It’s not every day you dodge a promotion at work.” 

“They would’ve given me Sandalphon’s old office, I’m sure of it,” Aziraphale muttered darkly, and he plucked another chocolate from the tin with even less hesitation than before.

Crowley sat back and let himself stare. Sugar and cocoa gave way between Aziraphale’s teeth; his tongue flashed pink, licking any remnants clean away.

So he’d indulged a bit of skullduggery. Pulled a few demonic strings. What was the alternative? Crawling back to his lodgings, sleeping off the reality of the situation for the next six months or so, waking up to find an angel who wasn’t Aziraphale installed here instead? They'd gone years without crossing paths before, decades. Longer, even. Somewhere in there, Crowley had gotten a bit too comfortable. Upper management checking in from time to time was one thing; being whisked Upstairs or Down with nothing but a ‘You’re being promoted, indefinitely!’ for warning was another box of snuff entirely. 

“You’re really doing it, then,” Crowley said, halfway between a question and a statement of pure fact. Aziraphale was here; Aziraphale was staying. “Selling your books to the humans.”

Aziraphale drew himself up slightly. “Certainly.” There was a brief pause. “Or at the very least, letting them look at the books.”

“Ah.”

“Oh, don’t you start.”

Crowley felt the stirrings of a smile tug at his lips. “I’m all for it, angel. People wanting what they can’t have? Coveting? You’ll be doing my job for me.”

“Yes, well—” Aziraphale’s eyes flicked upward. “The shop isn’t officially open yet, so if you could sheath your fangs until then, it would be much appreciated.”

“Sorry, sheath my—”

“And besides,” Aziraphale plowed on, “I still haven’t decided on a color for the backroom. I was rather hoping I might get your opinion on the matter, if you can spare a moment from delighting in the prospect of tempting my future patrons down a path of sin.”

Crowley made a show of pondering this. “No promises, but I’ll give it an honest go.”

“Good,” Aziraphale said, all too proud of himself, and Crowley’s insides did something vaguely acrobatic in response. Keep him here. Keep him looking at you like that. An old mantra, the only one he lived by these days.

“What do you think of yellow?” said Aziraphale. “For the walls?”

“Yellow,” Crowley echoed, nose wrinkling. “No, it’s fine,” he amended as Aziraphale gave a weary sigh. “Brings to mind all things pestilent and diseased, but what bookshop doesn’t?” 

“Horrid serpent. I should’ve known you’d be of no help.”

“And yet you asked anyway,” Crowley sing-songed. 

“Yellow,” Aziraphale said, ignoring this, “is a perfectly lovely color. Cheerful, warm.” He surveyed the room, face softening as he did so. “All the things a home should be.”

Home. Not Heaven, but here, the backroom of an unfinished bookshop, this dusty, dirty sphere of a planet, a speck in the grand cosmic backdrop. The perfect absurdity of it struck Crowley between the ribs.

He played it off with a shrug. “On your head, then.”

“You’ll come around,” said Aziraphale. His lips pursed, a not-quite smile. The pressure in Crowley’s chest swelled to a degree that would have warranted a trip to St. Bart’s, were he human. “You always do. And in the meantime—” With a small flourish, a sleek bottle of something red and expensive-looking appeared alongside the chocolate tin. “You might take those glasses off and stay awhile.”

“Twist my wing, why don't you,” said Crowley, and did.

[starlinggirll]

PITCH PERFECT — CHAPTER ONE

AUTHORS NOTE — some things will obviously be different from the movie for the sake of the series. keep in mind this is the first chapter so obviously not alot will be revealed. but im sooo excited to write more!

WARNINGS — r word (doesn't impact the story at all), other then that nothing? please lmk if you want me to add more i missed!

you got out of the taxi, bags and suitcases in both hands as you took everything in. "thank you," you say to the taxi driver as he helps you with your last bag.

your examination of "Barden University" gets cut off short by a girl in green uniform greets you and asks you for your dorm. "baker hall?" you mumble. and the girl nods at you and starts telling you were to go.

after, you take the keys she hands you. oh, and a rape whistle...? whatever. you take both and walk to your dorm. its not the best introduction to the campus, you immediately start getting cat called. nothing too serious, but its obnoxious.

after a while of walking you get to your dorm, already seeing your roommate there. "oh," you say as you see a girl in there. "oh, hi." she waves back lamely, but she has a small smile. her vibe is totally opposite from yours. she has headphones, eyeliner and piercings. "hi." you smile at her, setting your stuff down on your bed.

you soon find out her name is beca, and she's sorta of a dj. frankly, you dont pay much attention to her, it comes with having social anxiety. atleast in your case, you just sorta ... zone out. and thankfully she notices, "do you... want to go to the activities fair?" you nod almost immediately.

whatever to get you out of the awkward situation.

you both start walking out, "oh shoot, i forgot my phone. you can go ahead without me." you turn your head at beca's voice, nodding while still walking. what a mistake.

you're suddenly hit by what seems to be a wall, but you look up and see...a guy. he's tall, shoulders broad, his hair is blonde and curly. oh and another guy (jesse), he's about an inch taller, his hair is dark and unlike the guy you bumped into, he has a small grin. "sorry!" you blurt out, looking down at the floor in embarrassment. "watch were you're going." the mysterious blonde huffs out while already walking away.

the other guy offers you a sheepish smile before catching up to the blonde. "jeez art, could of atleast been a little..." their conversation fades out. but hey, atleast you figured out the name of the blonde. 'art'.

good to know.

so now you can avoid him at all costs.

you get to the so called "activities fair". you dont really have a niche, sure you like fashion. but its not something you're passionate about.

walking past a jewish group, a group of boys singing obnoxiously loud, you get called out by a bubbly voice coming from a white stand. a blonde girl (aubrey) and red haired girl (chloe) are infront of the stand, looking at your as if you were a treasure. "any interest of joining out acapella group?" the red haired girl exclaims while hanging your a paper.

the barden bellas. has a nice catch to it.

"acapella?" you murmur, looking up at him. "yup. its like a band, but every comes from our mouths. no instruments." "oh." you smile slightly, her bubbly personality is a bit contagious. "there's four groups on campus; the bellas, that's us." she chuckles, pointing her finger to another group, "Bu harmonics." you follow her finger each direction she's pointing at. "the high notes. and then there's..." both of their smiles fall as they turn to look at the same group of boys who were singing obnoxiously.

the treble-makers.

and surprise surprise!

the guy—art. and the guy you assume to be his friend, is talking to the front guy. your gaze flickers back to the girls as they both chuckle. "see you at auditions?"

"yeah." you blurt out. nodding before you realize you're doing it. "see you soon then." chloe says excitedly, waving at you. you wave back at them before walking away.

"c'mon dude. we have to join a group. live the college dream." jesse says while walking around the activities fair. "i dont-" art gets cut off by an obnoxiously loud singing coming from a group of boys sitting by the entrance. the banner 'treble-makers" behind them.

the conversation with the short guy, bumper, is a weird one. yet somehow, now him and jesse are going to auditions.

he did see you talking to the bellas. which from what he gathered from the conversation with bumper, the bellas and the treble-makers are sorta rivals. he doesn't even know why he noticed you talking to them. but whatever it is, you keep catching his eye.

but you, and him, have bigger fish to fry ; auditions.

[theonlyy1ivyy]

That'll Teach you.

summary: Satoru's had a crush on you for ages and finally get's the chance to talk to you because he's your new tutor. But he instantly regretted it the moment he realised how far behind everyone else you were. So he did something about it.

Tw: Gojo's lowkey mean 😓 and semi publix sex (you two are in the back of the library)

˚⋆. 𐙚 ˚ ˚⋆. 𐙚 ˚ ˚⋆. 𐙚 ˚ ˚⋆. 𐙚 ˚ ˚⋆. 𐙚 ˚ ˚⋆. 𐙚 ˚

You were gorgeous in all ways possible to Satoru. To him, there was not a single flaw that he could see whenever he admired you. But, you weren't the brightest, academically speaking.

You'd much rather focus on other things, like the activities you enjoy; shopping for new clothes or lingerie sets you know you'll never wear , getting your nails done with friends or following new trends you'd see on social media just 'cause you can.

All that to say that anyone who took the time to study you like Satoru, knew that College really wasn't your thing.

But the habit of not taking any relevant notes, falling asleep during Professor Yaga's lecture's and barely getting over the minimum you needed to pass your classes had to stop.

Your professor's came to a decision and you needed a tutor.

Three weeks is all it's been, but gosh did it feel way longer for Satoru. When Yaga approached him, explaining your situation, he couldn't help the huge butterflies that were doing tricks in his stomach.

He thought tutouring you would be the best time of his life. I mean, why wouldn't he think that? He finally got the chance he'd been waiting for since high school; to talk to you.

But oh he was wrong, so wrong.

Not only did it seem like you weren't trying, but Satoru felt as though you were playing dumb, because he refused to believe that his sweet could be so utterly stupid.

⋆. 𐙚 ˚⋆. 𐙚 ˚⋆. 𐙚 ˚⋆. 𐙚 ˚⋆. 𐙚 ˚⋆. 𐙚 ˚⋆. 𐙚 ˚⋆. 𐙚 ˚⋆. 𐙚 ˚⋆. 𐙚 ˚⋆. 𐙚 ˚⋆. 𐙚 ˚

"Are you even trying?" Satoru asked you, watching you struggle on the easiest question he'd given you so far. You look up at him and he could've swore he saw tears forming in your beautiful eyes.

"I am, I'm just-"

"focusing?" He scoffed and you could hear his patience running thin. "You've said that for the past 5 minues."

You went quiet and finished the equation, handing the paper to Satoru. You sighed and watched as he scowled at the paper. That usually indicated that you'd gotten everything wrong, something you picked up within the first few weeks.

He rubbed his temple, your gaze lingered on his veiny hands, watching as the muscles flexed. You were thinking...thinking about what else those big hands of his could do.

But you were caught.

As you tried to make out the expression on his beautifully sculpted face, his beaming blue eyes found yours. You looked away immediatly, the air in the library suddenly became thick. And tension arose between the two of you.

You avoided his gaze as he went back to correcting, when your phone dinged. You went in, slowling bringing it up to the table when Satoru abruptly stopped you.

"If you'd let go of your phone for once, maybe you'd actually be focusing and getting something right." He said harshly, sliding the paper your way.

"I have plans, I can't just put them off." You bit back, ignoring the paper in between you too, to text your friends.

Usually, Satoru was a calm and composed man with a great amount of patience, but with you...

he felt like every little thing set him off.

It enraged him that you, this picture perfect girl, were willing to throw your future away for nothing, when you had the most potential he'd ever seen.

"Y/N, please put your phone down." He urged. his voice calm, calmer than he'd been the whole session.

" Waitttttt- What colour suits me best 'Toru? Pink or cherry red?" You ignored him, going on to do exactly what he hated most.

Big mistake.

Because now he had his cock buried deep inside of you as you sputtered meaningless apologies with tears in your gorgeous eyes. Your slick dripped down your plush thighs and you squirmed under satoru's strong hold on your hips.

"S-satoru, p-please...It's too embarassing." You whimpered, gripping onto the wooden table in front of you for support. You were trying your best not to make a sound, but he was making that impossible.

He refused to let you move, letting you feel him...all of him inside you. He brought a pen to your fingers with a smug grin on his lips. He loved seeing you all worked up.

"Solve the question baby. Then I'll fuck you so good, so good you'll be begging for more." He whispered in your ear, watching you struggle even more. He knew you could it, he had no doubt, he just hated seeing you willingly act so dumb.

"T-that's not fair." You moaned as Satoru brought his fingers down to your puffy clit. So cute. " Ngh-you're being mean-Agh." You bit back a moan as you finished up the question.

"Focus." He reminded you.

"The value of x is -134°." You let out in a breathless tone.

He smiled, he knew you were hiding some intelligence in that head of yours.

Without a warning, he placed his free hand on your lower back. From a far it looked like you were just siting on him but little did they know, under your skirt was his cock buried in the depths of your pussy.

He thrusted into you and your eyes rolled back. You moaned and he brought his soft lips to yours. "Be quiet, Did you forget where we are?" he said lowly, against you.

You might not know a lot but one thing you knew was certain, you were about to have the best fuck of your life.

[just-gingerkat]

Pomni and Jax being a duo is honestly perfect and the way it was set up was awesome as well. Because it was teased but what more people saw, and what way more people were thinking was the duo of Pomni and Ragatha who were set up from the begining as well. Cause it should have made sense! After all they are both nice people who have others best interests in mind. Unlike Jax who seems to have everyone's worst interests in mind

The reason Ragatha and Pomni didnt work is because Ragatha is a dishonest nice person and Pomni is an honest nice person. Ragatha will try to positive and cheer everyone on, while burying and crushing down her genuine feelings. Pomni will genuinely try to understand others situations and shes not afraid to show her own discomfort, dislike, fear, anger, etc. Thats why Pomni and Jax clicked. Because theyre both honest. Jax may be deceptive and not like to talk about himself but hes very honest. He openly states his opinions and wants on everything even if it bothers others.

See the thing is The Ragatha and Pomni moments in this episode were there. Thats the greatest part. Pomni trying to genuinely connect with Ragatha about her showing her emotions. Pomni giving Ragatha her turn so she can prove herself. But they both failed. Ragatha blew up in Pomni's face, and Ragatha didnt even get to really get her turn.

Anyways Im finding Gooseworx's writing really intriguing and I am taking many notes

[yeonban]

I'm dissecting Tobias whenever he has a mood swing on main bc compared to his childhood era they're SO much rarer nowadays. These days he's either apathy embodied (*compared to anger personified as a kid) or he throws an impulsively angry fit that ends in the other person's death; never in a peaceful resolution. The fact that he's even composed enough to walk away from something that makes him annoyed now is a huge step forward from his younger self patience-wise, but every time he walks away it's simultaneously further detaching him from the rare emotion he does possess and alienating him even more from the people around him who are, at moments like these, blatantly shown that they're being kept at an arm's length no matter how close they previously believed they were with/to him

[mitta-likes-moths]

I need to put them through such a situation they will never recover from

[mobbothetrue]

Spotify prompt! Knuckles and tails, an 19 :)

Oh hoho! You managed to land FightSong by EVE (<- YouTube link), a song that by all rights shoulda been #2 (<- I refuse to pay Spotify money).

Hmm…. It’s been a while since I’ve done anything with Super Sonic Speed, but I always did intend to write follow-ups…

.•.•.•.

The city is unbelievably loud. They’re in what Sonic had called a shopping district, and it’s apparently very popular. Knuckles would kind of like to go home, a lot, actually, but Tails is flirting from one shop to another and he doesn’t have it in him to shut the kid down. Sonic is somewhere on the periphery of their little group— he and Tails had bonded, thick as thieves, and Knuckles— well, he tolerated the guy.

Tails gasps like he’s seeing the sun rise for the first time, excited enough that he’s lifting off the ground. Knuckles ambles over, grabs him by the ankle, and pulls him back down. He’s looking at some sort of… thing. Knuckles can’t make heads or tails of it, but it’s definitely saying something to Tails.

Hmm. He is, at least, familiar with the idea of shops. Chao liked to set them up, sometimes, selling fruit or handmade crafts for rings, but Knuckles has no idea if their idea of currency and everyone else’s aligns. Would the shopkeep accept a fruit? Most chao did. It isn’t like rings are a problem, so…

Knuckles turns, seeking out Sonic in the crowd. There he is— stiff as anything, glancing frantically back and forth between Knuckles and some other hedgehog, a pink one. One of his friends, maybe? They look irritated, maybe not. Knuckles steps away from Tails, invites himself into their conversation.

“and you just RAN OFF—“ the hedgehog is shouting. Sonic cracks his mouth open, a faint wheeze escaping.

“Hey,” Knuckles says.

“—do you have ANY IDEA how WORRIED I was—“

This looks like a battle Sonic is better off fighting on his own. Still, Knuckles needs his question answered. “Hey,” he repeats, slightly louder.

“—I mean, I knew you were alright because my cards said so, but—“

“Hey Knuckles,” Sonic manages to crack out, “this is Amy.”

Amy tilts her head at him, and then gives him a sharp, discerning once-over. “Are you one of his other friends?” She asks.

“Yeah, sure,” Knuckles says, and then “do rings work as currency down here?”

She blinks at him, as if this is a weird thing to ask. “Yes?” She says.

“Okay,” Knuckles says, nodding, “try not to scare him too bad.”

Any lingering confusion evaporates, and she whirls around to find Sonic trying to sneak away. “AGAIN!” she shouts, full of conviction, and Knuckles makes his way back to where he left Tails. He isn’t pressed up against the glass anymore, so Knuckles steps into the store. Yeah, there he is. Hovering— literally— over the same display.

Knuckles takes a moment to properly observe, rooting around for the terms Tails would use, in an attempt to ensure he gets the right thing. There’s a looping track, and a few other gadgets on the sides. A switch, one of them looks like, and some barricade, and a few blinking lights. On the track itself is a… sideways cylinder, set on wheels, connected to a few boxes, puffing out smoke— or steam, maybe. Tails is absorbed enough in watching it chug along that he doesn’t even realize Knuckles is standing right next to him. Knuckles’ll just have to make sure he comes up for air, occasionally.

He casts about the rest of the store, vaguely lost. There are a lot of displays, and a lot of colourful boxes. Knuckles picks up one, flips it over, and realizes swiftly he is out of his depth. He brings the box over to Tails, handing it to him. Tails holds onto it for a full few seconds, watching with bated breath as the cylinder switches tracks, before he looks down. His fur all along his spine puffs up, and he turns to look at Knuckles so fast he has to wonder if Sonic hasn’t started to rub off on him in more ways than one. That’s the right box, for sure.

“Really?” Tails asks, voice breathy with excitement, and Knuckles ruffles his fur instinctually.

“‘Course.”

Maybe the shopping district isn’t that bad.

[nostraightgloops]

Something i cant say i like about yinu's fight is In her mini frenzy sections where mamma slams her hand on the stage, if you get hit by a note, it renders you immobile...and you get hit again and again...and it's Really hard to recover....

[jonahmagnus]

By the end of the webcomic the ac club is gonna look like: Isabeau (two letters off from Isabel), Anna (from f/rozen), and Crash (i.e bandicoot, in honor of Crush) and Max is gonna be standing at the end of the line like ".....you people are shit at picking names"

[hayatheauthor]

10 Non-Lethal Injuries to Add Pain to Your Writing

New Part: 10 Lethal Injury Ideas

If you need a simple way to make your characters feel pain, here are some ideas: 

1. Sprained Ankle

A common injury that can severely limit mobility. This is useful because your characters will have to experience a mild struggle and adapt their plans to their new lack of mobiliy. Perfect to add tension to a chase scene.

2. Rib Contusion

A painful bruise on the ribs can make breathing difficult, helping you sneak in those ragged wheezes during a fight scene. Could also be used for something sport-related! It's impactful enough to leave a lingering pain but not enough to hinder their overall movement.

3. Concussions

This common brain injury can lead to confusion, dizziness, and mood swings, affecting a character’s judgment heavily. It can also cause mild amnesia.

I enjoy using concussions when you need another character to subtly take over the fight/scene, it's an easy way to switch POVs. You could also use it if you need a 'cute' recovery moment with A and B.

4. Fractured Finger

A broken finger can complicate tasks that require fine motor skills. This would be perfect for characters like artists, writers, etc. Or, a fighter who brushes it off as nothing till they try to throw a punch and are hit with pain.

5. Road Rash

Road rash is an abrasion caused by friction. Aka scraping skin. The raw, painful sting resulting from a fall can be a quick but effective way to add pain to your writing. Tip: it's great if you need a mild injury for a child.

6. Shoulder Dislocation

This injury can be excruciating and often leads to an inability to use one arm, forcing characters to confront their limitations while adding urgency to their situation. Good for torture scenes.

7. Deep Laceration

A deep laceration is a cut that requires stitches. As someone who got stitches as a kid, they really aren't that bad! A 2-3 inch wound (in length) provides just enough pain and blood to add that dramatic flair to your writing while not severely deterring your character.

This is also a great wound to look back on since it often scars. Note: the deeper and wider the cut the worse your character's condition. Don't give them a 5 inch deep gash and call that mild.

8. Burns

Whether from fire, chemicals, or hot surfaces, burns can cause intense suffering and lingering trauma. Like the previous injury, the lasting physical and emotional trauma of a burn is a great wound for characters to look back on.

If you want to explore writing burns, read here.

9. Pulled Muscle

This can create ongoing pain and restrict movement, offering a window to force your character to lean on another. Note: I personally use muscle related injuries when I want to focus more on the pain and sprains to focus on a lack of mobility.

10. Tendonitis

Inflammation of a tendon can cause chronic pain and limit a character's ability to perform tasks they usually take for granted. When exploring tendonitis make sure you research well as this can easily turn into a more severe injury.

This is a quick, brief list of ideas to provide writers inspiration. Since it is a shorter blog, I have not covered the injuries in detail. This is inspiration, not a thorough guide. Happy writing! :)

Looking For More Writing Tips And Tricks? 

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[kodokberjamur]

<333

why do you like treyjade so much? what is the thing about that relationship that draws you to it, and what is it that draws them to each other?

honestly this is why i keep thinking that i am not the best person a person can get their supply of treyjade from i don't have enough braincell to deliver them justice, bcs both of them are intellectual individuals in disguise that needs deeper clever writing INSTEAD U GOT THEM IN WHATEVER MESS I WROTE THEM IN FHSDH, that's why it's hard to understand how lovely their dynamic can be.

To start, these are their similarities. They have same vice duties. Jade loves growing things at botanical garden, Trey is in science club which also spends time at botanical garden. Trey bake, Jade brew tea. Trey cook, Jade eat. Simple enough.

And when they are together...

I love that Jade is completely off work/butler mode when with Trey. He is just a very spoiled someone who is very tired and just wants to be comforted with Trey. And of course Trey can be comforted the same way. This is easily one thing that brings connection between them.

Here's what my favorite couple is usually about. I can easily see them as adults that gets into meaningful long lasting relationship. Thanks to the japanese fandom, they are usually drawn in domestic relationship. Just living in the same house, spending their comfortable life together as an adult couple.

Jade can sense there are more under Trey's normality mask. If u consume more smart writing from other artists, Jade is /that/ curious about Trey that he tries to make Trey mad to see how it is if he loses his composure.

But Trey being actually smart, he can actually repel or counter Jade's taunting attempt with underlying smarter move. Which makes it even more interesting to Jade to keep on trying.

And another certain artist has Jade actually convincing Trey, that he doesn't have to stay normal, because he knows what Trey truly wants is abnormality. Trey just stays normal, because after getting Riddle in trouble & stirring trouble with Riddle's mom, it kinda traumatized him in a way. so in this other case, Jade just knows Trey is as messed up as Jade can be if Trey just let himself free, and he wants to unleash him & be (evil) partner hand in hand.

♡♡♡ Well, it's a secret. But Trey is actually bolder than you think. He is not easily repulsed or disgusted as you think. He would even break a 'law' or two to do things with Jade, like ... doing it in the school ground. (Riddle would be so mad, don't tell him) Which make them actually able cater on each other desires & quirks.

THIS PART MAKES JADE SO MOE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I love that IT MAKES JADE ACTS SMALL THAN TREY WHO IS ACTUALLY SMALLER THAN HIM WHICH SUPPOSEDLY DOESN'T MAKE SENSE BUT HE DID IT!!!!!!! H E IS A B A B Y !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

DAINTY TALLER JADE AND WELL BUILT SHORTER TREY????? SIGN ME UPPP!!!!!!!!!! THIS IS A BALANCE I CANNOT RESIST!!!!!

FSHDSHS CAN'T U SEE HOW MOE ITT IS FOR JADE TO BE THE TALLER ONE, WHEN TREY IS THE HEAD IN THE RELATIONSHIP????????

THE WAY TREY CAN STILL 'TOP' THE RELATIONSHIP DESPITE THE HEIGHT DIFFERENCE!!!!!!! THE WAY HE HAS NO FEARR OF THE TALLERR JADEEE AND JUST HOLD HIS NECK FROM BEHIND AND KISSES HIM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SCREEAMSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

This might be similar to the previous questions ago, but to me, they are more of themselves when they are together. They break from their usual duty masks. Trey is not just caring others out of responsibility. He actually have great fun feeding Jade and seeing him eats.

And Jade is not just following behind like a serving servant. He actually wants to be a baby girl, get on to Trey's lap, be patted, and bury his head over Trey's shoulder. AND U SHOULD LET HIM!! FSHDSHD

Jade not able to fly? CUTE! Jade always hungry? CUTE! Jade passionate about something? CUTE!! Jade love mushroom SENSELESS?? CUTE!! JADE PRETENDS HE IS DAINTY BUT HE CAN EASILY FIGHT A GROUP OF HOOLIGANS HIMSELF????? CUTTTEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!!

(EH ? ? TREY . T R E Y . P L EA S E C OM E B A C K T O Y O U R S EN S E . ;;;;)

Jade is so beautiful, how can he resist ? Despite being so dangerous, Jade is so ? C u t e ? ? how can he resist ? ? Does mermaid just naturally chant enhancement on human? O H , how can he reisist ? ? ? ? A R E H I S G L A S S E S J U S T F A U L T Y ? ? ? ? ? ? Oh Trey. Keep on guessing.

Mountain hiking? Camping? Cooking? Planting things? Alright, let's go. Outdoor wear Trey's lines said, "People get to research whatever they want in the Science Club which means I get to hear about all sorts of fascinating stuff" "Rook lectured me on proper hiking technique before we left. His tips have been pretty helpful" He actually listens, man. It seems like he is deliberately packing himself with LOADS of information so he can handle any possible situation. But he listens & actually digests the information Jade rambles to him. And that's the important thing.

O H ! The never ending fun ! ! Trey is a tough nut to crack. His defence meter skyrocketed up to the space. He is like an enrichment toy for Jade. But does Jade know that Trey is accumulating plan to also get back on Jade? Maybe not as evil. Maybe not as mean. But a win, is a win! U're gonna for sure make that pouty face, Jade.

You said what you said, Trey! No takesies, backsies! Have u seen Trey in Octavinelle uniform tho??? HE LOOKS LIKE, he's AT HOME! And for sure, Jade is muffling his voice at the corner right now. ♡♡♡

Their relationship can be sweet and direct, calculated but sweet; or attached but detached at the same time. Some artists took their individuality in more serious manner. Despite how it seems, their relationship doesn't go like actual cliche. They are not foolishly in love. They have first and foremost, sound logic of what they want. I remember this image has jade holding trey's hands while walking to the direction of the sea while the waves crashes on him, saying "sorry i can't go with you". It may seem cold. But in a way it's refreshing. It is a good material for pain for us who watches them. And they are not fake. They do not pretend that love is everything above all. They do not pretend they are actually a good person. They are what they are. And I love them for that. pixiv : (1) (2) (3) (4)

You understand what i mean?

Despite of lacking true ability to deliver how the true treyjade love is like, these are the things that make me fall in love with them. (I may feel like i missed talking about some points after posting this, i'm sure. Because i really love them in many different ways)

Since u come this far, u shall be rewarded. These are drawings from one of my top treyjade artist, toccamia, that has their account locked that you can't exactly re-live the moment I went through to get to this point. If these heavenly pictures still cannot convince you how beautiful their relationship can be . . . G o d k n o w s I ' v e t r i e d .

That's the end your journey of this post. Thank you very much for reading the rambling of lil' me.

[chuluoyi]

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐘 𝐖𝐈𝐅𝐄, 𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄

- zayne x reader

husband and wife, at the pinnacle of their love. on a night filled with wonders, you will know that he sees only you and everything that you are

genre/warnings: 18+ suggestive content—minors do not interact!—fluff, explicit smut: slightly rough & drunken sex, fingering, missionary. you and zayne have a daughter (her name is meirin!)

note: god what have i written... the anniversary banner pv made me do it T^T anyhow, this is also a direct prequel to the upcoming angst fic in the name of love :))

“Whoa, so that’s Dr. Zayne and his wife...”

Soft whispers rippled through the crowd the moment you and your husband stepped into the pristine ballroom, all eyes subtly drawn to your arrival.

Tonight, you were accompanying Zayne to Akso Hospital’s anniversary dinner party. His sharp gaze and immaculate three-piece suit made a striking impression. Naturally, you matched his sophistication in every way—your flowing black dress accentuated your figure, while your hair styled into an elegant updo.

A sight for sore eyes, that was what the two of you were.

“Mind your step,��� he murmured softly, his voice reassuring as the two of you gracefully ascended the stairs. His left arm wrapped around your shoulder, and you couldn’t help but notice the envious gazes of the ladies fixed on you.

“How does such a perfect couple even exist?”

“She’s so pretty… Of course, Dr. Zayne only wants the best.”

“Oh! And I’ve heard they already have a daughter too!”

A smile curled on your lips, a subtle boost of confidence washing over you as their murmurs reached your ears. You felt giddy too—on most days, you were a hunter in a life-and-death situations, rough and rugged. But tonight, draped in elegance and arm-in-arm with Zayne, you felt like a princess.

“Don’t smile that wide...” he suddenly whispered to your ears, a twinkle in his hazel eyes. “You’ll look like Meirin when she’s munching on her cookies.”

You shot him a frown. “Wha?”

“All those praises are going straight to your head.” Even in a prestigious event like this, Zayne couldn’t resist teasing you. “Sooner or later, it’ll get too big for me to handle.”

Fixing him with an unimpressed glare, you deadpanned, “Shush, you!”

When you reached the main hall, the buzz of conversation and clinking glasses filled the air, blending with the elegant music playing in the background. The hospital director, an elderly man with a warm smile, greeted you both along with his wife.

"Zayne, thank you for coming," he said, shaking your husband's hand and giving him a light pat on the shoulder. His gaze then turned to you. "Ah, this must be the stellar hunter wife of Dr. Zayne. You look absolutely radiant, madam."

"Ah, please don't call me that..." You mustered your most polished facade, supplying a soft, graceful laugh.

The director's wife grinned and added, "Why didn’t you bring your daughter here? Everyone’s looking forward to finally meet her already."

"She's a handful," Zayne immediately replied with a smile, his tone warm and affectionate. "And she gets fussy when her bedtime nears, so we decided to leave her with my in-laws tonight."

The director let out a hearty guffaw. "No matter how fussy she is, she must be really adorable with a mother this beautiful, eh?"

Throughout the night, it was a compliment you frequently heard. While you were flattered, a thought lingered in the back of your mind—what were your husband's true thoughts about all this attention to you?

Zayne was keenly aware of how captivating you were.

There was a surge of pride whenever he had you on his arm. Just like any man out there, he too wanted to show his hot wife off and flaunt her so everyone could see, as if saying: This is my woman.

But he too knew that it was in a human's nature to covet what they didn't have. And it was rightly proven when he stepped away for just a moment, only to return and find you engaged in conversation with a man.

The hospital director's son, no less.

"Miss, I've heard you're part of the Hunter Association?" he asked you inquisitively. "What a noble profession it is! Keeping all of us here safe on daily basis."

You responded demurely, "And those in Akso do the same, don’t they?"

Your conversation was harmless, and Zayne was a rational man, so he didn’t feel the need to intervene. He just made sure his gaze was on you every so often.

But when the director’s son began persistently offering you drinks, filling your glass time after time, Zayne's patience began to wear thin. The sight of the man’s insistence grated on him, stirring a possessive unease he couldn’t entirely ignore.

. . .

You could’ve sworn your vision swam a little after the third glass of alcohol. The warm buzz coursing through you also made everything seem a little brighter, and left you feeling just slightly off-balance.

"Miss, the white wine here is the best—" the man standing before you declared with a convincing grin, swirling the bottle in front of you. "Don't you want to try some?"

"Ah, no, sir..." you replied with a polite laugh, raising a hand in subtle refusal. "I've already had whiskey and gin just now—"

"Just a little! You really have to try it!"

You hesitated, heat creeping up your neck as the alcohol already coursing through your system made your cheeks flush. You didn’t even like alcohol much and only drank socially, but this was the very son of your husband's boss. Refusing outright seemed rude—

“Can you kindly not make her drink too much?”

Or so you thought, until your knight in three-piece suit suddenly stepped in and saved you from your plight.

Zayne’s tone was gentle yet firm, his words striking an authoritative balance. He flashed a placating smile. “My wife doesn’t have a very high tolerance.” Swiftly, he grabbed the glass from your hand and, without missing a beat, downed its contents in one go.

“If you’re looking for a drinking partner, let it be me instead.”

You knew better than anyone that your husband didn’t have a particularly high tolerance for alcohol either. Yet, for the next 30 minutes, you watched, equal parts impressed and concerned, as he matched the man drink for drink, deflecting further offers directed your way with a subtle, protective grace. Though Zayne’s words remained measured, you could see the flush creeping up his neck.

And soon, you’d witness just how far his limits had been pushed.

“Zayne! Are you alright?”

Worry laced your voice as you placed both hands on Zayne's cheeks, your brow furrowing in concern. Somehow or another you managed to drag your husband away and led him to the hotel room.

The warmth of his skin was unmistakable, and his face contorted in discomfort as the vertigo hit him full force. “Oh no, what have you done? Why did you even drink that much!?”

“I’m fine,” Zayne grumbled, his voice thick.

“You’re drunk!” You couldn't help but scold him as you started pulling off his coat and unbuttoning his shirt, trying to help him breathe easier. “You can’t even handle alcohol properly, and yet you’re trying to keep up with him...”

To Zayne, your voice somehow felt comforting. His mind was hazed, but your touch—your hand against his neck—felt like a cool splash of clarity.

His pretty wife... The dizziness was making it hard to stay upright, but the sight of you grounded him, and he instinctively leaned into you—

“Zayne—!”

You barely managed to catch his weight, instinctively wrapping your arms around him. He was so warm against you, his breath uneven, not to mention the slight tremor in his body. "Are you alright?!" you asked in a flurry. "Oh, let me get you some water—"

"You talk too much..." Zayne murmured, his words slurred as everything around him swayed.

Gripping your shoulder to steady himself, his unfocused gaze lingered on you, drawn to the curve of your lips, the delicate line of your neck, and the outline of your cleavage.

How can he have a wife this ravishing and do nothing?

And suddenly, he was sober. Very sober.

Or maybe not. It was simply just him finally giving in to his desires.

In one go, he seized your wrist, yanking you against him with sudden force— and with a quick tilt of your startled, precious face, he devoured your lips in heat.

"—!" It was like a spark igniting, burning through every thought. His mouth was urgent, demanding, as if he couldn’t wait another second to feel the rush of your closeness. His kiss was intoxicating—almost overwhelming—as he tangled his fingers in your hair, tilting your head to gain better access.

Zayne's hands moved to your back, pulling you into him, so close that the heat of his body pressed against yours. Then those sinful hands wandered to your hips, guiding you toward the desk. With reckless urgency, he swept everything off the surface, sending objects crashing to the floor with a sharp clang and made you sit on it.

"Ah, Zayne, you—!" You accidentally pushed him back, and he growled the moment your lips parted.

"Are you trying... to escape?" His gaze turned dark with lust, a dangerous glint flashing in his eyes. "Why? Isn't this exactly how you wanted me to be...?"

In that moment, you gulped as your heart thundered in your chest. What was even happening now? How did it escalate into this?

You stuttered, eyes widened, "Z-Zayne..."

But your husband had shed all traces of his usual composed self. In the haze of his muddled thoughts, he was driven purely by need. He swiftly removed his glasses, tossing them aside without a second thought, and this time—

His lips went straight for your neck, which, unbeknownst to you, had looked so enticing to him all evening.

"Hahh..." His breathy grunts were hot against your skin and his touch no longer gentle but firm and possessive. His mouth moved with a mix of hunger and desperation, and you struggled to contain the moans as his hands slipped inside your dress, and—

A shiver ran down your spine when he spread your legs, and you couldn’t help the titillating gasp that escaped when inserted his two of his fingers in you all at once, edging you.

"Ungh, ngh! Hah—" Your body jerked and you clung to him, your arms instinctively wrapping around his neck. Zayne wasn't usually this brash, but tonight it was as if a screw had come loose.

"Louder," he commanded in your ear, and your heart pounded at his authoritative voice. He pushed his digits deeper as if punishing you, that you yelped. "Do not hold back."

He lifted you by your waist, effortlessly pressing you against the small table by the window. You were on the 20th floor, the world below far out of sight, but the thought that anyone might catch a glimpse was somehow... thrilling.

"I-I'm close—" you stammered, and the moment you did, your husband vigorously moved his fingers inside your squelching folds, "A-ah!"

The room felt smaller, the air thicker. The way your walls took his fingers alone made your thoughts scatter, and when you came undone on him, you latched onto him, your head resting against his chest as your breaths came in shaky, uneven gasps. "Z-Zayne... please..."

He pulled out his fingers, looked at your cum coating them, and brought them to your lips. You, still trembling, sucked the essence off with teary eyes.

Sweaty, disheveled, lips swollen and cheeks flushed... how he had reduced you into this state was gratifying.

Zayne’s gaze darkened, his breath heavy as he stared down at you. "Are you ready to take me now?"

You nodded.

He gave you a small smirk, his thumb tracing the line of your jaw gently. "Good girl."

He lifted you over to the bed, and you gasped in surprise as he tossed you onto the soft sheets, the motion quick but not unkind. You barely had time to react before his intense gaze locked onto yours, his presence domineering above you.

“Spread your legs.”

Was this man really your husband? Sometimes, you still struggled to reconcile the tender part of him and the man consumed by a unrestrained intensity before you now.

By now you had swallowed all shame and did so. You wanted to look away, but then unable to when the sight before you caught your breath—

All the while, he had his eyes on you. Zayne pulled at his tie with deliberate intent, then he shed his suit pieces, casting them to the floor with a casual abandon, before undoing the remaining buttons of his shirt, revealing his bare chest altogether.

Your husband looks so hot. The way he gazed at you throughout it all too...

He glanced at the space between your legs. “Wider.”

You complied, letting your face burn impossibly hotter, anticipating him.

He eased in slowly, starting with just the tip. You whimpered at the intrusion.

"Hurts?" he questioned with a frown.

"No," you refuted quickly, desire too burning in your gaze as you met his eyes. "I can take more."

You arched your back as Zayne sank deeper, his full length filling you. A moan tumbled from your lips as your walls clenched in response, and he pushed himself completely inside you.

"Hah..." You inhaled sharply, giving yourself a moment to adjust to his entire length, and seeing you like that, your husband cradled the side of your face with his palm.

"So beautiful..." Zayne whispered, his glazed gray-hazel eyes fixed on your spent face. His other hand clasped yours, pinning it beside your head. "My wife... is so incredibly beautiful."

It was heart-fluttering to know that your husband found you pretty. Everyone might compliment you the same way, but his were the only one that truly mattered. After seven years of marriage, your heart still skipped a beat every time he held your gaze like this.

Without warning, Zayne started to move his hips. Your moans got louder and unabashed as his movements were slow at first, before he picked up the pace and thrusted in and out of you with fervor.

"Ahhh!" You threw your head back as his thick cock messily dragged itself against your walls. In, out, in out— Stars began to blur your vision, your nails digging into his shoulder as you reached for him.

You could see that excited glint in his eyes, the lust exploding at the sight of you. He watched you intently, savoring the way unbound desire twisted your face, each mewl you made filling the air. Your thoughts turned into puzzle pieces—

Thrust. So full, you are.

Thrust. What if... this time— you become pregnant again?

Thrust. That would be... nice. You can call it “New Years’ baby.”

Everything was incoherent. Teetering on the edge of consciousness, each hit to that one spot sent waves of pleasure crashing through you, pushing you to the brink of tears and screams.

Then, unexpectedly, he reached his climax first. His cum shot through, filling your womb to the brim in spurts after spurts, and you cried, trembling beneath him. Your release followed suit though, and you went limp in the aftermath.

Zayne collapsed on top of you and you wrapped your arms around him, burying your head in the crook of his neck, his name still falling off your lips as a whisper in his ear, a gentle song laced within moans. He kissed your neck, your shoulder, panting heavily against you.

“I love you.”

The world outside seemed to fade, leaving only the two of you in a tangled web of desire.

The first thing he heard was your whimper.

With a groan, Zayne cracked his eyes open the morning after, instantly recognizing the dull ache in his head—it was a hangover. But before he could press his hands to his temples, his gaze fell on you, curled up in a blanket next to him.

And the whimper came again, and it tugged at something deep inside him.

“What’s... wrong?” he asked in a groggy voice, turning toward you, his hand instinctively reaching for you despite the pounding headache. “Are you alright...?”

You blinked up at him, a flicker of resentment in your gaze, and Zayne gathered you into his arms. The events of last night came back to him in fragments, and realization dawned on him.

“Are you... sore?” he murmured, concern edging his tone.

“I hate you,” you retorted in a scratchy voice, mushing your head in his shoulder. Zayne widened in slight surprise, pulling you closer into his embrace.

“Is that it...? I’m sorry...”

He gently patted your head and back, trying to soothe you. The sight of you—vulnerable and distressed—made his heart tighten with a pang of guilt. Just how rough had he been with you last night?

“There, there, it’ll pass...” he said quietly, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “It’s normal... because we went longer and more vigorous than usual... Probably just mild irritation in your—”

“Don’t pull medical facts on me,” you muttered sullenly, weakly punching his chest. A smile made its way to his face at your mini attack.

“But it’s true though?”

How endearing. He couldn’t help but feel a warmth in his chest, his heart softening at the sight of you, even in your grumpy state.

And in that moment, Zayne thought, nothing could've possibly ever shatter his world ever again.

[hylemorph]

Spoilers: Eggers' Nosferatu

There's a lot of debate right now on if Count Orlok represents Ellen's shame/trauma/abuse, or if he represents her repressed erotic desires, and in turn there's debate on whether or not viewers who find the Ellen/Orlok dynamic alluring are "missing the point." Eggers and Lily-Rose Depp have both said in interviews that there's a mutual pull between Ellen and Orlok, and even that there's a love triangle element, but obviously the experience is terrifying for Ellen. How can we reconcile the sexual tension and the horror?

I think the broader theme is that Orlok represents everything in a woman's inner world that men refuse to acknowledge and accept - fear and shame and trauma, yes, but also our appetites . After the prologue, the story starts with Ellen begging Thomas to stay in bed with her; she says "the honeymoon was yet too short" and tries to pull him in and kiss him (obviously trying to start some nuptial bliss). But Thomas is anxious to meet with his boss and get his promotion, because he has a narrative he's going to fulfill: he's going to pay Friedrich back, buy a house, and then start having kids (he and Friedrich touch on this a bit later. Notably, Friedrich discloses Anna's pregnancy to Thomas before Anna has made it public.)

It's the start of Ellen and Thomas' married life and she just wants him to prioritize her sexual desire, but he chooses to focus on his ideal of success, which sets him on this path to confronting Orlok. We know Ellen doesn't care about having a house or fine things and she begs him not to go, but Thomas listens to Herr Knock and Friedrich, who tell him that as a husband he has to provide materially. He ignores Ellen's stated desires, and so fails to provide sexually and emotionally. When Thomas gaslights her about her nightmares and calls them childish fancies, he shuts down her vulnerability, which kills the intimacy she was enjoying in the literal honeymoon phase.

On a related note, there's a defence in here for Aaron Taylor Johnson's performance, which I've seen a few male critics call "over acting." In this story Friedrich represents the masculine ideal of the time, he's a rich business owner with a beautiful wife and kids. Thomas clearly looks up to him and wants to emulate him - he wants to give Ellen the life "she deserves." But Friedrich's elevated masculine status is why he refuses to listen to Ellen's "hysterical, sentimental" worries, he's too rational for all that of course. And his stubborn "rationality" leads to the death of his entire family. Friedrich IS the patriarchal ideal that crumbles when confronted with nuance and uncertainty. Some people see Friedrich and assume that a character like him is meant to come across as dignified, and that Aaron Taylor Johnson is messing up by making him look annoying, but really he is giving a great portrayal of a really common, annoying kind of guy. The kind of guy who melts down and has childish tantrums whenever they lose control of a situation, or their manly skills and values are shown to be irrelevant.

The men in the movie (excluding Professor von Franz) frame Ellen as childish for speaking about her dreams candidly, but their own childishness is revealed when her dreams manifest in the form of Orlok and become unavoidable. Ellen (partially? possessed in the moment by Orlok) tells Thomas how "foolish and like a child" he was in Orlok's castle. In the literal context that's cruel, and obviously that shit was scary as hell, but it hits on Thomas' failure in the metaphorical reading. He was a child playing house: 'I'll be the husband and make money, you be the wife and make babies.' When it came time to confront his wife's inner world and all the scary, traumatized, lustful complexity of it, he was completely inept. The message isn't that Orlok is what Ellen really needs, or that Thomas is a wimp, but he's not a perfect husband either. I think "the point" is that a real healthy marriage with sexual, emotional, and spiritual mutuality is impossible in that society with Thomas/Friedrich's ideals. In that kind of society, a spiritually and sexually potent woman like Ellen ("in heathen times you might have been a Priestess of Isis") will always be caught in a "love triangle" with her husband and her own inner world.