#BUT YEAH NO I WANTED TO SEE IF I COULD FIND THE MOVIE IN HIGHER RES AND I DID??

[todayisafridaynight]

this isnt rgg related in the slightest i just need to share the fact im utterly baffled someone posted the entirety of Postman Blues onto youtube. seven hours ago.

[undressrehearsal]

is it casual now?

chapter 1

summary: you and ellie agreed that this was just for a little fun - so what's the harm in her inviting you to joel's for a movie night?

word count: 2.3k

tags: nsfw, fingering (e and r receiving), angst, dub con?? i think?, does this count as public sex?, this shit's messy af y'all, mean reader, toxic relationship

a/n: i've wanted to write a fic based off this song for a while now. i've seen a few people write it (the song's a banger) but i only ever see ellie being written as the distant toxic one and tbh i don't think that matches her character so here's the opposite

also i hid a one last stop reference in here if you find it you get a prize (it's not hard to find)

if you wanna be tagged in the things i post, just lmk in the replies!

Joel was trying to decide what movie you should watch. 

At least, Ellie thought he was. She could see the way his lips were moving - could even make out the words Dawn of the Wolf, whatever that meant - but she couldn’t actually hear him. She sat across from him at the dining table, nodding along, trying to school her expression into a pantomime of interest, but his words were drowned out by the ringing in her ears. 

Your hand on her thigh crept higher. 

Ellie shifted in the uncomfortable wood chair, uncrossing her legs only to recross them, and your hand didn’t move. You stroked slow circles into her jeans with your thumb; she would have thought it was absentminded if she didn’t know you so well. Ellie could see you in her peripheral. You smiled politely, nodding along as Joel listed off what movies he had found lately - it had become his mission to hunt for them while he was on patrol. (He always insisted that Ellie needed to be familiar with all the classics from before the outbreak.) 

Somewhere past the sound of her heart pounding in her ears, Ellie heard Joel say her name. She blinked, shifted in her seat again, and replied intelligently, “Huh?” 

He shook his head at her and laughed as he said, “Where you at, kiddo?” 

She ran a hand through her hair, purposely avoiding looking at you - she knew she’d only find that shit-eating smile on your face. “Sorry, had patrol late last night. Yeah, that movie sounds cool.” She had no idea what movie he had suggested. 

It didn’t matter much in the end. After switching off the lights, Joel sat back in his big old recliner (he’d looked like a fucking kid on Christmas morning when Tommy gave that to him), leaving the couch to you and Ellie. You leaned into her with your head on her shoulder; she had her arm draped over the back of the couch, not quite touching you. She was dancing a fine line between wanting to hold you and knowing you wouldn’t let her, but the tightrope was slipping from under her feet because you had put your fucking hand on her thigh again. She’d swear there was a damn magnet connecting your hand to her. 

Ellie covered a gasp with a cough when your hand drifted between her legs. Your eyes were glued to the flickering television, but there was no hiding the small, satisfied smile on your lips. And she fucking hated herself for wanting to kiss it more than anything. 

The tattered blanket you shared covered up the fact that the tips of your fingers were grazing across the seam of her jeans. Even the ghost of friction made her squirm, the movie becoming nothing more than white noise. You were too fucking bold, and her head spun when your nimble fingers undid the button and slid the zipper down so slowly it ached. When your fingertips dipped below the waistband of her boxers, she couldn’t stop herself from glancing at Joel. He was enthralled in the movie, and she couldn’t even pay attention to it; she hated herself for that too. 

She knew she shouldn’t; she knew she should’ve grabbed your wrist, told you to stop so she could just enjoy the movie with her… with Joel. He’d been trying to plan a movie night with her for a week, and tonight she had finally been free from patrol. God, she shouldn’t have invited you, but when he asked if she wanted to bring a friend, of course your name had popped up. 

She should have known it would be a mistake - an intoxicating one, but a mistake nonetheless. And when you dragged your fingers over her, pressing the lightest pressure to her clit, it took everything in her not to tilt her hips against your hand in search of friction. 

Ellie bit down on her lip so hard she'd swear she tasted blood when you dipped just the tips of your fingers inside her. It was embarrassing how easy it was - how wet she already was and you had hardly even touched her. But when you circled her clit, your fingers already soaked, the shame burning in her chest evaporated. Her eyes fluttered, heat burning in her stomach, your touch setting her aflame. Her fingers dug into the back of the couch. She longed to touch you, to just wrap her arm around you and hold you close, press your head to her chest so you could hear how her heart reached for you. 

Instead, she could only grip the couch behind your shoulder, gritting her teeth against the ache of it. You didn't even look at her, playing with her as though it were an afterthought, but there was no missing the smirk on your lips. She hated it; God, she wanted to kiss you. 

Ellie didn't dare look at Joel - she didn't think she could handle seeing him so engrossed in the movie he had been so excited to show her while she sat only a few feet away, coming undone on his couch. She couldn't handle the shame rising in her throat again. If she looked at him, she was sure she'd be sick right there. 

She tried so hard to keep it together - her hips ached from the force of holding them still, her lip surely cracked from biting it. Her chest burned with the moans she had to swallow like acid. But she couldn't keep it all in - it was overflowing. And when finally, the coil in her stomach threatening to snap, a low groan spilled from her lips, Joel turned to look at her. 

Ellie didn't want to think about what he saw, but whatever it was, it made his brow pinch in concern. She couldn't meet his worried eyes when he said, “You okay, kiddo? You don't look too good.” 

Your fingers hadn't even fucking slowed. You looked at her with a mask of concern, batting your eyes so innocently even as you pressed your fingers into her, curling them so you hit that spot that made her see stars. And then Ellie did grab you, gripping your shoulder in warning and glaring down at you. You wrinkled your nose, but relented and slid your fingers out of her; her grip tightened when you slid back over her clit. Fuck, she never should've invited you. 

Ellie cleared her throat; she couldn't look at either of you without feeling sick, so she turned her gaze to the movie. What was it even about? 

“Sorry, I just-” Her voice was strained, suffocating in her own throat. She felt like she was going to swallow her own tongue. The coil in her stomach tightened and she felt nauseous. She groaned again, and the words tripped over themselves in a rush when she said, “I don't feel good.” 

Ellie stumbled to her feet, forcing you to withdraw your hand; when she glanced down, she could see that your fingers were wet and it made her stomach twist. Keeping one hand over her stomach to hide the fact that her fucking pants were undone, she hurried from the room, ignoring Joel when he called after her. She couldn't look him in the eye or else she might actually puke.

Making a beeline for the bathroom, Ellie slammed the door behind her and leaned against it, the wood cold against her back. She took a deep breath, counting the cracks in the ceiling until her heart finally stopped bashing against her ribs, her throat burning. Pinprick tears stung her eyes as she fixed her pants, her fingers shaking so hard she could hardly grasp the button. 

Cursing under her breath, Ellie braced her hands on the bathroom sink, her shoulders sagging. Her eyes were rimmed red; she scrubbed her hands over her face roughly, willing her stomach to settle. 

She shouldn’t have been upset, really. The first time your hand had found its way into her pants, all those months ago, you had made it perfectly clear what this was. She could still hear your voice from that night, saccharine sweet and smelling like the whiskey you had nabbed from her cabinet: Come on, Els, Jackson’s so boring. We can just have a little fun, right? She remembered the weight of your body when you climbed onto her lap, your thighs warm on either side of her hips, your hands pressing her back against the couch. She could still feel the way your breath had ghosted over her neck, your voice dripping with honeyed desire: It's just a little fun.

Her own eyes looked so unfamiliar, a stranger peering at her from the bathroom mirror. 

Cursing again, she turned on the faucet, bending to splash water on her face - it was December and the water was so cold it numbed her hands. It was a welcome relief against her burning skin. 

Ellie felt so fucking dirty it hurt. No matter how she scrubbed at her skin, rubbing it raw, she couldn’t seem to rid herself of it. The cold water stung her cheeks. 

A knock on the door made her jump, cold water splashing down the front of her shirt. She cursed, pulling the damp fabric away from her chest with a grimace before calling, “Give me a minute, okay?” 

But you had never been very good at listening, had you? You didn’t even look surprised when you pushed the door open, ignoring her protest, and found Ellie leaning against the counter, water still dripping from her chin. If anything, you looked almost amused, quirking an eyebrow at her. It was the look you gave her every time you got her worked up, your eyes showing the laughter you bit back. She fucking hated that look. 

Ellie glared over her shoulder at you, but there was no real malice behind it - even when she hated you, something in her still softened when you were around. A switchblade girl with a cotton candy heart. 

You closed the door softly behind you, leaning back against it with a smug smile that she wanted to wipe off your face - she just wasn’t sure how she wanted to yet. Ellie could hear how your ego tinted your voice when you said, “Joel sent me to check on you. Probably thinks you're barfing your guts out or something.” 

Ellie rolled her eyes, looking away from you and mumbling, “Yeah, I guess dinner didn’t sit well….” 

You scoffed and the sound went straight to her stomach. She felt rather than saw you step behind her; she tensed when you placed your hands on her hips, leaning forward to put your chin on her shoulder. Her hands gripped the edges of the sink so hard she thought the porcelain might crack. She could feel the heat of your body all the way down her back, your hips pressing into her ass, and her traitorous heart fluttered embarrassingly. 

Ellie met your eyes in the reflection, watching as your smile grew into something almost mocking. You placed a kiss on the back of her neck, pressing your words into her skin: “Damn, Els, I didn’t know Dawn of the Wolf got you so hot and bothered.” Your fingers pressed into her hips, pulled her back against you. She failed to smother the sigh it pulled from her. She hated how it made your smile widen, and she hated even more how much she wanted to fucking kiss it off your stupid face. She shivered when she felt your teeth graze over her neck, and almost missed it when you muttered, laughing, “God, you’re so fucking easy, you know that?” 

Ellie shoved away from the counter, spinning on her heel and grabbing your wrist before you could flinch away. You had only blinked before she slammed you back against the wall, praying that Joel didn’t hear it. Her fingers wrapped so tightly around your wrist she could feel your pounding pulse, pressing it to the wall above your head. She slipped her thigh between your legs, pressing up into you, and she only had a moment to register that smug fucking grin before she slapped a hand over your mouth. She relished in the way your eyes flashed in something akin to fear. She had to find wins where she could, right? 

Leaning forward so her nose brushed yours, Ellie growled into the back of her hand, “Don’t make a fucking sound.” 

And she did get to wipe that cocky smile off your face. She kept her hand over your mouth, releasing your wrist to snake her arm between your legs. She muffled your moans, hissing when your nails dug into her biceps. 

Joel was in the next room, she thought distantly. Joel was in the next room, watching the movie he had been so excited to show her. He was in the next room, concerned about her, waiting for her, and here she was pressing her best friend into the wall of his bathroom. She had your pants around your ankles, two - three - fingers pushing into you. She could feel the vibrations of your moans against her hand - she wanted to press her lips to yours and swallow them, knowing you would never let her. 

It came too fast, Ellie pressing into you relentlessly if only to make you fucking shut up for once. Your body shuddered against her, and she wanted to hold you through it, but by the time it was over you were already pushing her away. When her hand fell from your mouth, you were smiling again. Maybe she was going to be sick after all. 

@filtered-sunlight

[icarusredwings]

Thinking about Logan adjusting to this new timeline, becoming sober, and Wade somehow finding Logan's dog tags. ~4k words.

(Tw: Logan's a depressed recovering alcoholic with survivor guilt, unofficial proposal, canon usual implied sex jokes, Logan tries to flirt but fails)

To my wife. Who's halo lit up my dark life to see just how many doors were available to me when I couldn't see them myself<3

He offers him his to wear as a cutesie matching necklace type of thing but Logan is hesitant to take them, scared of what will come of it. He does it anyway though because he sees how happy Wade is wearing his.

What he refuses to tell him though is that just hearing the tags jingle makes him jump, flinch, his heart rate rises, and his mind floods with scenes he's worked so hard draining every bar he could find dry just so he could forget.

For me, I, too, am a man with deeply rooted animal instincts and was raised to behave like an obedient pet instead of the animal they made me.

An animal trained to take orders. A soldier without his post is miserable and constantly is either trying to find it again or defend himself from ever having to go back to a post to begin with.

You aren't good enough for them if you obey what they say and excel past the standards. But you aren't good enough if you question their authority and make choices for yourself either. Hoizer comes to mind.

Running with the bulls

Working my miracles

Holding my world together with a boot string

His night terrors are worse, more frequent, constantly a battle between wanting to protect and defend the less fortunate to saying, 'No, I'm done with that. It's none of my business, It’s someone else's problem now.'

He wakes up screaming, claws drawn, every possible sense he has to run activated, panting, gasping almost for air. He's panting, heaving deep but quick breaths, all of the hairs on his arms raised like a cat who just heard a dog barking after having gotten attacked as a kitten.

Living the dream

Benzos and gasoline

Coffee and blue light screens till the morning

He wakes to the sunlight in his face, gets up, stretches, takes his Valium. Eats some toast, calls it breakfast, gets dressed for his weekly AA meeting. The moment he steps inside it smells like Gasoline. Sweet honey scented lies that he hates to admit that he knew all too well. ‘It was only one’ ‘I asked for a virgin one but they brought me the wrong one’ ‘I'm trying, I really am..it's just.. hard’ He's heard them all before but the last one he could relate to the most.

Coming home at night, Logan puts his face into the back of his partner's neck, hugging him from behind as he offers to watch a cowboy movie marathon with him. He barely eats, only taking what Wade gives him or shoves in his mouth like the now spilled popcorn that was all over the ground, His boyfriend sprawled out on the couch while the “Dvd” bounces back and forth on the blue screen.

Wade never likes it but recently he's been drinking coffee at night, pacing back and forth as he searched online for a job. Kept himself far from the nightmares that were trying to catch up with him.

If I tell you this is drowning

You tell me I'm walking on water

I could bring fire from the mountain

You tell me it feels a little colder

Everyone was telling him how good he was doing, how well he was adjusting, how happy they were that he was here and yet.. He didn't feel like he deserved it. Any of it. Not the second chance, not the love and support of all his new family, not the affection from the man who whispered how proud of him he was each night..

It doesn't help his mental status when multiple jobs reject him either. Interviews don't exactly go that well when you have claws for hands and a reputation for having a temper.

“I'm sorry we're looking for someone with more… experience.. in this field. You need an entry level job.”

“Woah dude! You are WAY too qualified to be working here! you should try looking for something higher up, yeah?”

“I'm sorry. You're too much of a liability.”

“Oh my god- You're the Wolverine!”

“Yes.. but uhm.. No.. I'm just Logan now.”

“Wait, why are you applying here? This is a cashier position.”

“I'm aware..”

“Aren't you like… an X-men?”

“N-no… not anymore.”

“Oh… Did they fire you?”

“I quit.”

“Why?”

“Are.. these questions part of the interview?”

What kind of man was he if he couldn't even get a damn job at McDonald's? It felt useless. Like everybody wanted something different from him, but no one was happy either way. Never pleased with his resume or his reputation. You would think being an ex X-man would make it easy. Of course someone would want to hire a superhero? Right? Wrong.

I don't wanna

Choose between being a salesman or a soldier

Just let me look a little older

It seemed everyone wanted him to rejoin the X-men and as much as he missed that mansion upstate, it wasn't his. So many times he's been told stories about himself that he didn't even remember …well.. because it wasn't him. They wanted The Wolverine.

Their Wolverine.

Not Logan.

There was always that spot at the dealership with Peter. Now that Wade was back on his role with mercenary stuff and doing more “Favors” with Colossus, Negasonic and Yukio, that position was open. Part of him- No. Scratch that. All of him was happy for Wade. He seemed to be enjoying life so much more now that he felt he had purpose. But what was his purpose? Selling cars?? Definitely not. Even if it was, they were looking for something else anyway.

“It says here that you are 286 years old. Is that a typo?”

“Oh- uhm… No..”

“I see…Well we are currently looking for someone… younger.. to fill that spot. Sorry.”

But they were never actually sorry. He could smell it.

Coming home from the failed hunt, he felt like an older lion losing its pride to a younger male lion. Well- if lions could develop arthritis in their knees and hands. Once a day he'd pop out his claws, just to keep them ready though he felt like he hadn't used them in such a long time… Maybe he really was turning into an old house cat like wade said.

Sitting in their shared bedroom, he was grumbling to himself, grunting as he tried to get his claw unstuck. This wasn't the first time they locked up and he feared it wasn't the last either.

He snapped his head up at the sound of tags. Around the corner came who he expected, Wade, quickly hiding his hand under the blanket. Coming in, his eyes widened.

“Woah wolvie! Without me? Really? I would have gladly done it for you.”

At first Logan wanted to thank him for offering to help before quickly realizing that from how his hand was under the blanket, it did look suspiciously like adult alone time.

“T-that's not… no.”

“M'kaay. If you say sooo~”

“H-how uhm.. How was work?”

Watching as he began to grab shower clothes and take off his mask, He smiled.

“Oh you know! Watching the life drain from peoples eyes and what not as they beg for their life! The usual.”

“Oh.. that's.. fun?”

“Extremely liberating stuff.”

Watching as he began to strip, He swallowed, wishing he'd leave already so he could finish shoving the claw back into his skin.

Let me step a little bolder

I don't wanna

Choose between being a butcher or a pauper

“You wanna take a shower with me?” He asked, Beginning to walk around butt naked in nothing but his tags.

“U-uhm… No. No thanks, I had one this morning.”

“D'awwww what? Worried i'll see your peanuts? News flash baby, I've had those things down my throat! And I will say. They're better salty anyways~”

All this teasing changed his monotone face into a small goofy smile as he came close, crawling up into his lap, taking hold of his cheeks as he kissed his nose.

“What's wrong? Did you not get the job?”

He was so envious of how he could say such dirty things. Wade was so confident and yet so shy about his face. It made him think of when he was that confident in himself too. (Probably overly confident if we're being honest) Oh that was so many years ago… he'd never get that back. And honestly? He wasn't sure if he wanted to.

Logan said nothing but it was all the answer wade needed.

“I see. Well you'll get’em next time, Right?”

He looked away. Ashamed. Here Wade was, being overly supportive, giving him everything, and still he couldn't find a single happy bone in his body.

Shifting his leg to reassure him more, His knee was placed on the claw, yipping. “Ouch!”

“Sorry! I… I can't.. i-it won't..”

And on top of all that, he just hurt him. Man he sucked at this. All of it. Every little bit of it.

Pulling his hand away, Logan's eyes looked over Wade just as quick as it happened, Trying to see if he was bleeding only to jolt.

“Hey- shh.. Calm down. You're alright.” Grabbing his wrist, he carefully moved the tags that had gotten stuck on the claw.

“What's got you all riled up, Kitty? The interview couldn't have been that bad.”

But what he didn't know is that it WAS that bad.

Instantly Logan broke down, breaking heavily as he began to sob, gritting his teeth as he put his non-stuck hand on his face, wanting to hide. He felt pathetic. Useless. Weak. All of the things he fought not to be.

“Ooh, Honey come her-” Wade reached a hand out, trying to console him only to be shoved away.

“Don't!! I-.. I'm tired of hurting people! That's not who I want to be!”

“Baby cakes, it was an accident-”

“No!! Eveyone wants the Wolverine until the fucking wolverine is actually acting like the Wolverine!” He shouted, trying not to choke on his own tears.

Tilting his head, Wade blinked as if he wasn't aware of what he was talking about, but why would he? Logan hasn't told him anything negative for the past 2 weeks. Keeping it all bottled up, trying to push it deep down but that wasn't him. He couldn't handle it anymore.

“Everyone just keeps saying I should join the X-men again and i-” Wilson put his hands on his shoulders, looking at him with the most serious he has ever been in his entire life.

“Logan, If that's what you want we'll make it work. It's only an hour drive, and i'm sure I could visi-”

“Wade!! Shut. Up! I don't…” He trailed off, shaking his head as he began to apologize, whispering he was sorry for yelling at him.

“I-it's not your fault.. I.. I don't..”

Wade was patient, Nodding, encouraging him to open up with his words. He knew when it was time to zip it and let him talk. Now was one of those times. It was his turn to listen.

“I don't want to fight anymore. I didn't want to fight to begin with but… It's the only thing I'm good at. I'm not good at anything else.. My whole life I've just been jumping team after team and they all eventually die or I just get kicked out for not understanding the power of team work or whatever. Hell, I've been through three different wars and every single time I ran away! Like a damn dog with its tail between its legs! All except the times I was TOLD to run and I didn't. Fuck, Wade! 3 fucking wars and I can't even take orders right!!”

Honey, I'm taking no orders

Gonna be nobody’s soldier

It was now Wade's turn to try to stifle a laugh, snorting as he covered his mouth.

“What's so fucking funny?! That your boyfriend is a sad pathetic loser who can't even get his hands to listen to him!?”

Now he burst out laughing, starting to giggle.

“You're over here talking about not being able to take orders and not being good enough for a team while talking to the same guy who can't even GET on a team and was kicked out of Canadian special forces because I didn't listen to a single thing they said! And you think I care if you ‘can't take orders’ ??” He said this last part in a mocking tone, trying hard to be serious but couldn't.

Logan's eyebrows scrunched with a skeptical glare, tears still dripping down his face, feeling embarrassed and stupid.

Cupping his face again, Wade smiled ear to ear, their foreheads together. “You're much dumber than the comics make you out to be if you think I'd care about anything like that. You honestly think I'd care if you don't want to be anyone's soldier? Why do you think I'm my own boss? The world isn't built for guys like us, baby. And if you wanna open a coffee shop or- pursue your dreams of photography, or hell! Even bird watching for all I care, I will still love you. We will make it work. No matter what you choose to do. Even if you don't get a job at all. Do you understand?”

The man started into his eyes, seemingly frozen as he processed all that he said.

“Logan..”

“Hm?”

“You gotta nod hon, we've talked about this.”

Slowly nodding, indicating that he understood, the tears got thicker as he pulled himself into Wade's shoulder, sobbing more.

“Oooh There there… There's my big strong man..” Wrapping his arms around him, he was careful of the single knife still out. Sitting him up, he rubbed the side of his face as he kissed the other cheek, only to gasp.

“GAASSSPP!! Peanut!”

“What!?” His grip tightened around his waist as he looked around urgently, immediately sniffling and starting to wipe his eyes.

“You're getting greys!” He coed, reaching up to pluck a single gray hair from the beast, who flinched. “Ouch..”

Leaning back, Wade held the hair in front of his face, His smile still wider than ever.

“You're turning into A silver fox, wolvie!”

“W-what?”

“Ooh I bet you're gonna be so handsome! Eehh!” Hugging him again, tight around his neck.

Blushing, He wasn't sure what had just happened. How him venting and crying out of the rage he felt to Wade fangirling over one of his single hairs.. though.. I guess it made sense for your bald boyfriend to monitor yours. Wade has even made him start using a fancy shampoo that made his hair a lot softer, curlier, and Less greasy.

“.. you..You're excited that i'm getting old..??”

“Duh! I've always wanted to be a hot silver daddy's sugar baby!”

“What does that even mean?”

“Don't worry about it- Oh hey look! Your claw went back in.”

Looking at his hand, he made a fist and opened it a couple of times, blinking, oblivious. “...How did you do that?”

But what he didn't realize is that the stress was flowing out of him, and the relief that Wade seemed to be obsessed with him no matter what had calmed him down enough for it to slide back in itself.

“I didn't do anything, sweetheart. You opened up. Let it out. All that stress isn't good for you, you know. How do you think I ended up looking like this?” He joked, giggling.

For some reason, He laughed too, finding this a bit funny.

“Do you feel better? Hm?”

“Nngh..”

“I'll take that as a yes.” The naked man whispers, kissing him with his arms lazily on his shoulders, glad that he was able to cry in front of him. Twas a very manly thing to do and there was no one more manly than the Wolverine himself.

“Alright. I'm gonna go shower. I stink worse than you do after being out in the rain.” You know, wet dog and all. Pulling away, there was a clang and a tug at both of their necks, the tags becoming stuck together, making wade smirk more. “I think these tags don't want me to go.”

Quickly frowning, Logan swallowed, moving to take his off, pulling up his hand as he held it, putting the tag inside of it, closing his fingers.

“Wha..I-... what are you doing?”

“Wade.. I..” He sighs, looking away with a nervous pout, Grunting a bit from frustration. Why did words have to be so difficult?

“Are you breaking up with me?!”

“What!? No! I-.. I don't..”

See what Logan didn't know was that Wade had viewed these as promise rings, the equivalent of engagement even but he was okay with never actually getting married. As long as he got to wear the dress in his closet and dance with him he wouldn't mind if it was legal or not. He understood fully that not everyone wanted to marry the stage 4 cancer patient whose skin looked like turkey bacon that was somehow raw and burnt at the same time.

“You don't what? Do you.. want something else? We can get rings! Do you want rings?” shifting to sit closer to him, Wade was obviously becoming upset about this, untangling the tags and looking at him with those big brown puppy eyes.

“Rings…?”

He could see the gears in his head trying their best to turn as he thought what he meant.

“How would we make them into rings?” He finally asks and to Wade, this was basically a proposal.

Sitting up more he began clapping excitedly the same way he did when seeing puppins again about 8 months ago. “Eeh!! Yes!!”

His head turns, Giggling. “I would've taken it in front of the subway like Sanda Bullock but this works too!”

Logan, like a dumb ass, looked too, knowing full well he wouldn't see anyone but still always looked anyway. “Who??”

“Oh I'll show you later! What size are you?”

“In rings?”

“No, your cock, Of course in rings!”

“Hey now- I never agreed to a cock ring, Wade. No.”

The serious tone and the way he pointed his finger at him made him laugh more, taking his hand as he kissed it. “We'll figure it out. Okay so after my shower, I'll call a guy I know. I think Forge would do a much better job but I feel like he'd say no.” He began rambling about how cute they would be and how excited he was, climbing off of his lap (finally) and started to walk off.

“W-wade!” He called, swallowing again, nervous to ask him to listen.

“What? You wanna come shower?”

“No- well.. maybe but..”

Again he waited, rocking back and forth on his heels, trying his best to be patient but it was hard not talking for 0.5 seconds.

“It's not that.. I don't like them. It's just.. I got those a long long time ago.. and I don't want to be the man those belonged to. Not anymore. And it's not that I don't think about rejoining all the time, it's just.. I want to live my life the way I want too. Charles always said that at the end, we'd get to live how we deserve. That's my time. My time is now. I want to sit on a porch somewhere out west and watch the horses graze. I wanna sit around doing nothing with Puppins in my arms. I want… I want to be with.. with you.”

He admitted, and for once Wade was the one speechless.

“I don't want you to visit. I want to live with you. But not here. I want to go somewhere quieter. Somewhere I can just be.. Logan..”

Putting a hand on his chest as he explained, he didn't see his smile move, not a smidge, watching as he bit his lip and covered his mouth trying to stay quiet until he was done.

“Of course I still want to help people though! Protect them from other worse people… I'm just tired of being someone's toy soldier all the time. I want to do what I think is right but.. also have time to listen to you sing when cooking and take Puppins to the dog park. I want to protect..Us.” Yeah. That felt right. Us. Both of them, all of them. Together. His family.

“B-besides.. If I became an X-men again I don't think I could do it. I could barely sleep back then thinking about all the screams.. the people I couldn't help. I don't think I would be able to get over the fact that I can't save everyone… But I definitely want to try to at least save a few people. Take care of them… all of them. Even if they don't think they need help.” He smiled a bit, taking a huge breath as the stress was relieved from his shoulders.

“Alright you can talk now because I'm never doing that ever again, that was super embarrassing.” He muttered, flushed as he looked down at his lap.

The second he gave him permission to speak, Wade screamed, a scream that made Logan's eyes widen and look at him with a slow blink. “....what was tha-”

Immediately he was pulled up from the bed, picked up and squeezed tightly as he jumped around. Grunting some, he held on tight, feeling a little nauseous. Sometimes it was easy to forget how strong he was.

Still screaming, Wade was extremely excited about all that was just said, Logan admitting that he wanted a serious future with him was a lot better news than he could have ever wished for.

“Put me down!... Wade!... I'm gonna throw up!” He said, whining that he was given uppies non consensually. Even he couldn't help but laugh though in response to his giggles. God that laugh was so annoying and yet his world would feel pointless without it.

Putting him down, Wilson grabs his cheeks, petting his beard. “Ooh Logan.. I don't need protection.. because I can't get pregnant. But if I ever find out that I can, I'll definitely hire you.” He jokes, causing more blushes as his hand comes up to Wades, nuzzling into it for a moment.

“You know what I mean…”

“I do. And while I won't stop you, how about you be your own soldier for a bit? Tell yourself how to live. Not anyone else. And i'll be behind you, wearing a shirt with your ugly mug on it, supporting you the whole way. Got it?”

“Aye! I'm not ugly!”

“No you are not! I've barely been home for 20 minutes and am already so wet. I haven't even taken a shower yet “ he mumbles casually as he begins walking away.

“Heh.. Hey…erm Wade?”

“Yes, love?” Just about to leave the room, he turns, smiling gently at how talkative his fiancé was.

Logan blushes more. “I uhm.. If I'm nobody's soldier… can your name be nobody?”

Wade looks confused at first, now it's his turn to figure out what he was saying.

“Cause.. if your name is nobody then i'd be.. nevermind.” Waving A hand, he glanced at his shoes, stuffing his hands in his pocket having just fumbled that line completely.

Within seconds, Wade was back in that room, giving him the sloppiest, deepest kiss that was available, kissing him all over.

“Oh Logie! You're so sweet! But leave the flirting to me, mkay? I don't need you throwing your back out trying too hard.” He pats his chest, grabbing his hand as Wade drug him by the wrist.

They both laugh as they enter the bathroom, closing the door with a click.

[missrosiesworld]

Starlight Flutters

Here are some cute headcanons for Billy Kid when he has a crush:

Starlight Hero Persona: Billy adopts a more heroic persona around his crush, often quoting lines from "Starlight Knight" and trying to emulate the show's protagonists.

Billy: "In the name of justice, I vow to protect you! No harm shall come your way while I'm around!"

Crush: "Are you quoting Starlight Knights again?"

Billy: "Maybe, but I mean every word!"

Over-the-Top Gestures: He tends to make grand, dramatic gestures to show his affection, like showing up with a bouquet or performing a flashy stunt to grab their attention.

Billy, arrives with a dramatic flourish, bowing slightly: "For you, a token of my admiration!" hands over a bouquet of holographic flowers.

Crush, laughs, clearly amused and touched: "You didn't have to go all out, but thank you!"

Billy, his voice warm and sincere: "Anything for my favorite person."

Nervous Energy: Despite his confident exterior, Billy gets nervous around his crush. He fidgets with his hands and his voice may rise a notch higher when he's excited or flustered.

Billy, fidgeting with his hands: "So, um, do you... like movies? I mean, of course you do, who doesn't, right?"

Crush, smiling: "Yeah, I do. Got any recommendations?"

Billy: "Oh, totally! I've got a list! Uh, maybe we could watch one together sometime?"

Show-Off Moments: Billy loves to showcase his skills, especially with his custom-made revolvers, "the girls." He might challenge others to friendly duels or display impressive marksmanship to catch his crush's eye.

Billy, pulls off a perfect trick shot: "Not bad, huh? Just a little something I picked up from Starlight Knight."

Crush: "Wow, that's impressive! You're really good."

Billy, trying to act casual: "Oh, it's nothing. Just, you know, a hobby."

Special Attention: He gives special attention to his crush, remembering small details about their likes and dislikes. Whether it's their favorite snack or a specific hobby, Billy tries to incorporate these into his interactions with them.

Billy: "I remember you mentioned liking spicy food, so I brought you this hot sauce. It's got a kick, just like you!"

Crush, surprised: "You remembered? That's so sweet. Thank you, Billy."

Billy: "Of course! Anything to see you smile."

Protective Stance: Billy becomes protective of his crush, always positioning himself in a way that he can keep an eye on them. He wants to ensure they're safe and will step in if he senses any danger.

Billy steps in front of his crush: "Hey, stay close. I’ve got this covered. No one's getting past me."

Crush: "You don't have to do this, Billy."

Billy: "I know, but I want to. It's my job to keep you safe."

Clumsy Sweetness: When Billy gets flustered, he can become adorably clumsy, sometimes tripping over his own feet or dropping things. He laughs it off, hoping his crush finds it endearing rather than awkward.

Billy, stumbles slightly, almost dropping a package: "Whoops! That was... not supposed to happen."

Crush, giggles: "Are you okay?"

Billy, laughing nervously: "Yeah, just distracted by... something, or someone."

Secret Glances: He often steals glances at his crush when he thinks they’re not looking. 

Crush, catches Billy staring: "What is it? Something on my face?"

Billy, his voice faltering slightly with a hint of nervousness: "No, no! Just... admiring the view."

Crush, teasingly: "Smooth."

Confiding in Nicole: Billy confides in Nicole, seeking her advice on how to approach his crush. 

Billy: "Nicole, what do I do? I can't stop thinking about them, but what if I mess it up?"

Nicole, smirking: "Just be yourself, Billy. And maybe tone down the Starlight Knight lines a bit."

Acts of Service: He goes out of his way to do small, helpful things for his crush. Whether it's fixing a malfunctioning gadget or finding something they’ve misplaced, Billy is always eager to lend a hand.

Billy: "Hey, I noticed your bike was making a weird noise, so I tightened the chain and oiled the gears."

Crush: "You did that for me? Wow, thank you so much!"

Billy, rubbing the back of his neck: "It's no big deal, really. I just wanted to help."

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Just Keep Breathing, part 2

TFW & Winchester little sister!reader

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: just a fluffy little follow up to part 1

You couldn’t breathe. Your mouth was opening and closing like some macabre imitation of a fish, but no air would come.

Sam and Dean were there. Dean tried to grab your arm, and Sam was reaching out to cup your face but everywhere their skin touched yours, you started bleeding.

Your lungs were on fire, you were crying, and Sam and Dean were too scared to hold you in their arms, even as you died.

You awoke with a jerk to find that you actually were being held—in fact, Sam had you in his arms and Dean was shaking your shoulders.

“Wake up!” Dean breathed a sigh of relief when your open eyes met his. “Hey sweetheart. You ok?”

You nodded silently, not trusting your voice.

“Ok.” And then Dean was pulling you into his arms, and you nearly cried in relief when you got to relax in his embrace with no pain. “Ok, you’re safe.”

“I think I’m gonna go make us some breakfast,” Sam said, letting go of you and standing up. You turned and latched onto him, unwilling to let him go.

“Please don’t…” you didn’t want to tell him not to go—you were hungry, after all—but you’d also spent so much time not able to touch your big brothers, that now you were scared to let them go.

Sam seemed a little confused, but no less willing to help.

“Ok…uh, hop on.” Sam turned the awkward silence into an opportunity to turn his back to you, waving you onto his back. You grinned—he always knew how to work with your emotions. You jumped up on his back, giggling when he grunted and hoisted you higher.

“Ok ok, now hold on tight. Dean, you coming?”

“Right behind you,” Dean chuckled.

…

You stuck like glue to your brothers as they worked in the kitchen; if you weren’t holding onto Sam’s hand while he was cooking eggs, then you were hanging off Dean’s sleeve while he was making coffee.

They weren’t stupid, and neither were you—you could see them glancing at each other over your head, silent concern etched on their faces.

“Hey, how about we eat in the Dean cave and watch a movie?” Dean suggested, his arm slung around you shoulder. You burrowed closer to his side and nodded.

“You doing alright?” Sam asked gently as he plated the scrambled eggs.

“I’m ok.” Your voice was quiet, but Sam believed you—you were probably tired, but he was sure you’d be ok. “Are you coming with us?”

“Uh, yeah.” Sam nodded. He’d planned on doing some research in the library for a case, but he could make a call and ask one of his hunter buddies to do it instead. “Yeah, I’ll be there in just a minute.”

You and Dean took your plates and retreated to the Dean cave. The movie was just starting when Sam finally came in, and when you saw his figure enter the room you jumped up to greet him with a hug.

“Hey.” Once you let go, Sam got on one knee so he could look at you face-to-face. “What’s going on, are you ok?”

You nodded, shuffling suddenly in embarrassment.

“I just…I just need you today.”

“Ok.” Sam pulled you into his arms, and when he stood you lifted off the ground. “Ok, then I’m yours.”

…

Your head was resting in Dean’s lap, your legs splayed over Sam’s, when the flutter of wings announced Cas’s arrival.

“Cas!” You were up and in his arms before he even knew what was happening. He hugged you back.

“Hello, little one,” he greeted. “Are you feeling better today?”

“Well, I’m not dying,” you quipped, grinning up at your angel friend. “Are you staying?” Your fingers tightened on Cas’s hands, like you could anchor him to the room.

Cas just smiled at you.

“Of course.”

…

After two movies, you took over Dean’s speaker system with your iPod. You dragged Sam to his feet, laughing. He was hesitant and shy at first, but once you had him up and you were dancing around him, he got into quickly. He’d spun you around about five times before Dean stepped in and stole Sam’s spot as your dance partner.

“Let me show you how it’s done.” Dean was grinning as he took over. You and Sam laughed mercilessly at Dean’s ridiculous dance moves.

Dean was unfazed, grinning as he said, “This is what real dance looks like.”

“Yeah, the real chicken dance,” you giggled.

Dean looked mock-offended.

“Ok then superstar, show us how it’s done.”

“I already did,” you argued. “Now it’s Cas’s turn.”

“No no no no no.”

Cas’s protests went completely ignored as you dragged him to his feet.

He—very, very reluctantly—joined the other three of you in your various dances.

Each and every one of you had some moves that you would never live down, but nobody cared.

It was one of the best days ever.

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl

[la-petite-lapin]

Keeping Secrets | John Price x female!reader

Navigation

John Price x afab!Reader Word Count: 2.3k Content Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI, smut, mentions of injury, cannon typical violence, swearing, age gap (reader is in her twenties, John is in his forties), suggestive content, oral (F receiving), PIV (protected (stay safe, kids)), brief mention of Price JRs, no use of Y/N

The Captain and the Sergeant start keeping secrets from the rest of the taskforce

It wasn't like it was in the movies or the books. There were no longing glances across crowded rooms; no deep, personal conversations late at night. There was no warning.

The first indication that anything had changed between the two of you was in a dimly lit safehouse. A job had gone wrong - horribly, irreparably wrong - and Soap had been medevac-ed out to the nearest army hospital. The rest of you would have to wait until morning; would have to make it through the night when a countless number of enemy operatives could still be hunting you, then hike to the nearest evac point before sunrise.

Ghost was pacing the worn wooden floors, and you were sure he'd wear through them at some point. You knew better than to make a joke about it - knew better than most the deep bond that he and Johnny shared. To mock it would be to die a brutal death by Ghost's hand in the night.

Gaz was coping with it in the best way he knew how: checking in with everyone, yourself - as the newest member of the taskforce - included, mother-hening his way around the three-room cabin in the middle of rural woodlands.

It wasn't until he'd finally convinced Ghost to sit down and take a breath, that Captain Price finally approached you. Heavily, he lowered himself down to sit beside you on the shabby old sofa, not saying a word at first as you stared ahead at nothing.

Johnny had been standing right next to you when it all went to shit. Him diving in front of you like a lunatic was probably the only reason that you were there with them. The shot to his shoulder would have been a direct headshot on you.

It was hard not to feel bitter or dazed about that.

"It's not your fault, Sarge," John said, his voice markedly softer than usual. He typically made it a point to avoid babying you in any way - knew that you hated being treated differently to the boys - but you could make an exception for him just the once. "Soap chose to block that bullet. Saved your life an' all. Cheer up, yeah? He's alright and you'll see 'im soon enough."

You turned to face him, offering him a small, weak shadow of a smile. "I know. It just sucks."

John frowned, seeing through the thin veil of fake cheeriness. Quieter, he added, "It's alright to be shaken by this, too. First near-death is always scary. It stays with you in a way the ones after don't." There was a pause - a long, tentative pause - as he leaned forward, elbows resting on his parted knees, dark eyes finding yours and holding them. "If- if you don't want to be alone tonight, you don't have to be."

Laid out in the open like that, the offer seemed so damn tempting.

Your mind raced through all of the shit that could go down if you took him up on it - if you were found out. You could be removed from the taskforce, stripped of the sergeant rank that you'd fought so hard to attain. John could be reprimanded for sleeping with an officer under his orders. But, if no one knew... what was the harm?

With a soft, sweet smile - a genuine one this time - you tilted your head, leaning slightly into his space on the sofa. "Yeah. I think I'd like some company, Captain."

Hours later, after Ghost had fallen asleep on the floor of the living room and Gaz had been assigned first watch, Price led you into the smaller second room of the safehouse - the bedroom - under the guise of checking your wounds. In reality, the minor scrapes to his arm and leg had already been dressed, not requiring any further attention. If anything, the cut to Gaz's forearm was of a higher severity.

John grinned as he shut the door with a soft thud, sliding the flimsy, rusted deadbolt across to lock it. You were thankful for the added security; the increased reassurance that the boys wouldn't be able to just wander in and catch you in the act.

The bedroom was poorer lit than the main room, making it harder to see. The moon illuminated the outline of the Captain's broad, muscular frame as he removed his beanie and tactical vest before turning his attention to his belt. You took a seat on the edge of the bed, thighs clenching in an attempt to relieve some of the aching tension in your core.

He took his time stripping down to his white t-shirt and boxer briefs, the material straining with the impressive tent in the front. "Like what you see?" he grumbled cockily, noticing your attention.

You let out something akin to a whine. He looked so good - so unbelievably good after the day from Hell you'd just had. There was also something else that made it undeniably more thrilling; the risk of getting found out. The taboo of it all.

You couldn't deny that you'd found Price attractive before that deployment. You'd spent every day for the past two years around him, living, eating, and working alongside him and the boys. It had also been a fact of life that he had a following - a constant, ever-present gaggle of new, female recruits cornering him in the hallways and vying for his attention. But he never took any of them to bed, preferring to spend his nights in the barracks alone.

At first, you'd thought that he had a wife or a partner off-base, but a conversation on your last stakeout together led you to the truth; he just wasn't interested in the barrack bunnies. He wasn't interested in sleeping with someone just for the sake of it - just because they wanted to get a piece of taskforce 141's infamous Captain.

"I think I might need to see some more to decide," you purr teasingly, lifting a hand to beckon him closer to the bed.

He stepped forward slowly, hands rising to rest on his tapered hips. He was built like a bear; broad, built, and covered in a fine layer of downy body hair.

You licked your lips, eyes tracking every single minute movement.

"I think I need to see something from your first, princess," John teased. "It's only fair."

Eyes never leaving his, you made quick work of stripping out of your own tac vest and pants, chucking them over the edge of the mattress and into a heap on the floor. You even went one step further; shucking off your t-shirt. With a small smirk, you leaned back, clad only in your flimsy underwear and sports bra.

John's eyes were practically bulging out of his head.

"Like what you see, Captain?" you purred, words a light-hearted mockery of his own self-assured crowing.

"If I'd have known," John grumbled as he took another slow, measured step towards the bed, "that this is what you looked like under all that gear, Sergeant, we'd have done this a long time ago."

A grin formed on your lips, ego expanding ten sizes as John prowled across to close the rest of the distance. His irises were all but swallowed up by his pupils, blown with lust.

Shuffling back on the mattress, you eased back as John came to a stop, kneeling between your parted legs. With a lover's gentle reverence, he pressed a kiss to each of your knees in turn before turning his attention to the scrap of damp cotton protecting your modesty.

"May I?" he asked softly, fingers hovering over the waistband at the side, thumb smoothing a path along the ridge of your hipbone.

Breathily, you gave your consent. "Yes. Please, John-"

With practiced ease, he lifted your hips up and off of the bed, guiding your underwear down your bare legs then chucking them to join the rest of the clothes littering the floor. His hands skimmed back up, callouses feather-light against the skin of your calves before rising to knead your plush thighs when he reached them once again. He seemed to be mapping out your body; ghosting over the sensitive parts repeatedly, lingering where he'd deduced you liked to be touched.

The man was a fast learner. An eager one, for sure.

When he'd finished kneading at the soft skin there, he pushed your thighs apart, holding them down to the mattress and exposing the moisture glistening at their apex. Licking his lips, he bowed his head slightly, lowering his body down to the bed.

"John?" you asked, confused as to where he was going and why he still had his briefs on. "What are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing, princess?" he mumbled against your inner thigh, dark eyes lifting to meet yours. "Didn't think to bring any rubbers with me, and I don't fancy having any little Prices running around any time soon." A spark of mischief glittered within his gaze as he nuzzled his bristly moustache against a particularly sensitive spot. Your shiver seemed to only embolden him further. "Which means tonight's all about you."

You arched your back off of the bed, trying to push his face closer to where you desperately needed it. "Can you hurry up then?" you whined, getting impatient.

John chuckled. "Yes, ma'am."

And, with that, he bowed his head and made good on his promise.

"John!" you yelled, thighs burning with the strain as you bounced up and down on his cock. "John- fuck!"

A whole three months had passed since the first night you'd spent together in the safehouse. The morning after, you'd fully expected him to put an immediate stop to it the moment you were all rescued. Instead, he'd held your hand in the Heli - tucked between both of your bodies, hidden from sight - and promised that you'd talk about what this is later.

Nights since had been split between your room in the barracks and his. Mornings, too, upon occasion. Every spare moment the two of you got alone was accompanied by the feeling of his large, warm hands on you. By his constant, protective presence in your life.

It was a miracle that no one had noticed the new pull between the two of you. How you seemed to orbit one another.

And then there was the sex. The constant fucking.

"Keep it down, princess," he grumbled, breathless and sweating, beneath you. He didn't look too bothered though - too blissed out to properly care or consider the consequences of someone overhearing.

Clinging to some semblance of intelligent thought, you bit down on your wrist in an attempt to muffle the sounds leaving your mouth, drawn out by the captain and his fat cock. It was quickly becoming one of your favourite parts of him, second only to his beautiful, expressive laugh. It was no secret to you that he was well-endowed. Well-endowed and skilled at utilising it.

"Stop that," he grumbled gruffly, raising a hand to gently remove your wrist from between your teeth. He quickly replaced it with his own hand, guiding the soft part of his palm between his thumb and index finger into your mouth. Anything to prevent you from accidentally injuring yourself. "Keep riding, love. I'm getting close."

A part of your brain purred at that. Love.

It was a pet name that he used sparingly. Perhaps because he saw the flash of panic in your eyes almost every previous time he'd used it.

But now...

You tipped yourself back, hands finding purchase on his tensed, thick thighs to deepen the angle. Freeing his hand from your clenched jaw, you whimpered, "I'm... John, I'm so close."

"Me too, sweetheart," he mumbled, speeding up the pace of his thrusts. He punctuated the sentence with a snap of his hips. "Me too."

Wrapping his arms around your waist, he tugged you down into his chest and rolled, rising up onto his knees as he set you on your back. Pressing a trail of soft, tender kisses to your face and neck, he picked up the pace; drilling deliciously deep.

You whined, squeezing your legs around his waist and clawing at his back with your fingernails.

With a low growl, John lost it. Turning frantic as he barrelled towards his rapidly approaching end, he pushed you towards your own orgasm - practically bullying it out of you.

You came with a sharp scream, turning your head in a fraught attempt to smother the sound in the pillow. It smelled of Price - rugged, masculine aftershave and a hint of tobacco smoke.

He himself came moments later, gasping as his release swept over him. Covering your body like the world's best weighted blanket, he slumped down on top of you.

Still buried deep inside the paradise at the apex of your thighs, he pressed a sloppy, lazy kiss to the side of your neck, running his nose along your throat. It was one of the best part of sex with Price; the cuddling that came after.

Giving a small jolt of his hips, he grumbled something into your salty skin.

"Hm?"

John lifted his face slightly, breath tickling the underside of your jaw. "I said, I wish I was ten years younger. Then I could go again and again without a half-hour break between each round."

You giggled. John's age was something that you didn't mind. You knew that the age gap between you probably would have put some people off, but - if anything - he made you feel safe and respected. Though that could be the fact that he was a highly-decorated war vet, and a complete Golden Retriever of a man.

Pressing a kiss to his temple, you whispered, "I wouldn't have it any other way, John."

There was a beat of silence as the two of you soaked up the moment; the feeling of just holding one another on the sweat-soaking sheets, oblivious to the world outside of the little bubble you'd created for yourselves. With a chaste kiss to your shoulder, John gave another tentative roll of his hips, drawing another whiny groan from you.

"You sure know how to make an old man feel loved, princess."

Before you could reply - to bring up to the l-word that you'd both been skirting around for weeks now - your phone chimed. The alert tone was one you'd reserved for the other members of the taskforce only.

Why would they be messaging on a Sunday night?

A wave of panic cresting inside of you, you eased John's softening cock out of you, wincing at the sudden emptiness. Your phone was on the desk, all the way over on the other side of the room. It seemed so impossibly far as you scrambled for it.

"What's wrong, sweetheart?" John asked, suddenly fully alert and hurrying to tug his boxer briefs back on.

Wordlessly, you read the message you'd just been sent. Your face blanched to an unhealthy pallor as you handed him the phone. A single message notification waited on the screen, glaring with accusation.

GHOST: We heard everything, you two. Think you owe us an explanation at the very least. Rec room in ten minutes.

John looked up from the phone screen, the corner of his mouth quirking up into a lopsided, sheepish smile. "Well, I guess that's what we get for keeping secrets, princess."

a/n: hello, hello :) so this was the Price X 141!reader fic that won the poll! I've had so much fun writing this one - not that I don't love Double the Love (my firstborn fic) please feel free to tell me what you want to see next! - happy surprise-post thursday, lapetitelapin :)

[shitsndgiggs]

Hey Kaya 🌸

I just saw a movie scene where a couple went to a charity event and the woman was teasing her husband under the dining people, he came in his pants 🐱🫠

I was thinking about Kenan yk 🤠🐱

If you could make this happen, I’ll sell my body to you 💋

Have a nice day bbygirl

A/N: WARNING SMUT!! I made this request into a part two, since a lot of you wanted it

Part 1

FAMILY NEXT DOOR (Part 2) - KENAN YILDIZ

It’s payback time 😈

Kenan Yildiz x fem! reader

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

The sun had just dipped below the horizon, leaving a warm glow in the sky as Kenan and I prepared for our evening out, with his family.

I stood in front of the mirror, adjusting the delicate straps of the dress I’d chosen—a sleek, figure-hugging number in deep red, one that clung to my curves in all the right places.

I added a touch of lipstick and smoothed down my hair, satisfied with the look. Tonight, I was determined to turn the tables on Kenan.

When I stepped out of the bathroom , Kenan was waiting in the bedroom, adjusting his watch. The moment his eyes landed on me, they darkened with desire.

He took a step forward, his gaze roaming appreciatively over my body.

“Y/N…” he murmured, almost in disbelief. “You look incredible.”

I could feel his eyes on me, taking in every detail, and it was exactly the reaction I’d hoped for. “Thank you,” I replied, giving him a small, teasing smile as I walked past him to grab my purse.

I could feel his eyes following me, the intensity of his gaze making my skin tingle.

Kenan moved closer, his hands finding my waist as he pulled me into his embrace. His lips brushed against my neck, sending a shiver down my spine.

“Are you sure we have to go out?” he whispered, his breath warm against my skin. “I’d much rather stay in.”

I laughed softly, turning to face him and pressing a finger to his lips. “Let’s not keep them waiting,” I said, gently pushing him away with a playful grin. “We have a dinner to get to.”

Kenan grinned, clearly trying to hide his excitement. “You’re right. Let’s go.”

We walked hand in hand to the restaurant, where his family was already seated. As we approached the table, Kenan’s hand lingered on mine, and his eyes kept drifting to me, clearly captivated.

As the main course was served and the conversation flowed, I decided it was time for a little payback.

While everyone was absorbed in their discussions about local cuisine and vacation plans.

"So, Kenan, how's work been?" his dad asked, taking a sip of wine.

I let my hand drift beneath the table. My fingers lightly brushed against Kenan’s inner thigh.

Kenan’s body tensed immediately. He tried to maintain his composure, but I could see the nervousness in his eyes.

Kenan fidgeted in his seat, already on edge. "Uh, yeah, it's been good. Busy, but good."

His breath quickened, and I could see the slight bulge forming in his pants.

I leaned in close, my lips brushing his ear, and whispered, "Be a good boy and stay quiet. Unless you want them to find out how dirty you are.”

His eyes widened, and he nodded, his mouth dry. I giggled softly, my hand now moving higher, caressing his hardening cock through his pants.

I slowly undid the button and zipper, careful not to draw attention, and slipped my hand inside.

His dick was thick and heavy in my hand, and I could feel the warmth of his arousal.

As we continued to engage in idle chit-chat with his family, my hand began to move gently up and down his shaft.

I teased the tip of his cock, feeling the pre-cum starting to leak out.

Kenan squirmed in his seat, biting his lip to stifle a moan. I loved having this power over him, driving him wild while he tried his best to maintain his composure.

His mom laughed at a joke his aunt told, and I used the moment to my advantage. I squeezed his dick a little tighter and quickened my strokes, my fingers teasing the sensitive head. "Oh, god, Y/n, I'm gonna cum," he whispered desperately.

I didn't stop, instead increasing the pace and pressure. “Go ahead, baby. Cum for me, fill your pants with your hot cum." My other hand reached down to rub his balls, massaging them gently as I stroked his shaft.

Kenan's breath hitched, and his body tensed. I knew he was close. With one last intense stroke, he came, his cock pulsing in my hand as he tried desperately to muffle his orgasm.

I could feel his warm cum filling his pants, the wetness spreading as I slowly milked him dry.

His body shuddered, and he let out a slight whimper, his family none the wiser.

"Oh, something wrong, Kenan?" his mom asked, concerned.

"No, no, just something stuck in my throat," he replied, his voice a little hoarse.

I giggled softly, my hand now covered in his cum. I brought my fingers to my mouth and sucked them clean, tasting his salty release. "Delicious," I murmured.

Kenan shot me a look of disbelief, his eyes wide as he realized what I'd done.

The rest of the dinner passed in a blur, with Kenan trying to hide his sticky pants and his obvious discomfort.

As we finally stood up to leave, I gave him a mischievous smile, my fingers gently stroking his still-sensitive cock through his pants. "That was just the beginning, baby. I'm not done with you yet."

We excused ourselves and made our way back to our room, his family none the wiser about the naughty game we'd played.

Once inside, I pushed him against the door, my lips crashing onto his in a passionate kiss.

Our tongues danced together as I reached down to feel the wetness in his pants, rubbing it between my fingers.

"You looked so sexy trying to hide your orgasm," I whispered between kisses. "But now it's time for round two."

I dropped to my knees in front of him and slowly pulled down his pants, revealing his semi-hard cock.

It twitched as I leaned in, my tongue flicking out to taste the remnants of his cum. I sucked his sensitive head into my mouth, moaning softly as I tasted him.

"Fuck, Y/n, that feels so good," he groaned, his hands tangling in my hair.

I took my time, sucking and licking his dick, enjoying the taste of his pre-cum mixing with the salty residue of his earlier orgasm.

My tongue swirled around the head, teasing the slit, before taking him deep into my throat. I savored the feeling of his cock pulsing in my mouth, his breath quickening as he got closer to the edge.

"I'm gonna cum again," he whispered, his hips thrusting gently.

I didn't let up, instead bobbing my head faster, my hand stroking the base of his shaft. His fingers gripped my hair tightly as he cried out, his cock erupting in my mouth.

I swallowed every drop, milking him dry once again, before finally releasing him with a satisfied sigh.

We collapsed onto the bed, our bodies sticky and satisfied.

Kenan smiled lazily, his eyes half-closed. "You’re unbelievable." he said with a chuckle, his hand finding mine. “That was payback and then some.”

I grinned, leaning in to kiss him softly on the cheek. “You had it coming, remember?”

[k4marina]

this was supposed to be a drabble, but fuck it, we ball.

bassed off of this.

warnings: gotham. moral of the story is don’t walk the streets of gotham alone at night

——

"i don't get it," you say into the phone that's pressed in between your ear and shoulder. your best friend on the other line hums in agreement. "it's like he's living like a double life y'know? rich corporate dude by day, and then some sort of street thug by night."

she laughs on the other end. "that would be an interesting movie plot. but for real, i'm glad that i'm not in your shoes, no offense-"

"none taken,"

"-i'd drive myself insane trying to figure out who my soulmate was."

you shake your head, smiling, "careful, keep talking like that and you'll end up in arkham."

her laugh fades for a second before coming back to the phone. "speaking of which, has your little thug boyfriend run across the batman yet?"

you shake your head, not that she can see anyways, "no, not yet. i wonder what that would be like though. maybe then he'd stop running around in the streets like an idiot."

"a little intervention by the bats?"

"totally," you laugh. you glance back at the little wall clock you had, groaning. "i'm gonna have to go, gotta head to work. talk to you tomorrow?"

"okay, stay safe, byeee," you could hear the sound of her kissing on the other end, you doing the same before ending the call and getting ready for work.

—

by the time 4 am had rolled around you had finished your shift and were steadily making your way back home. was it risky to walk alone in the dead of night in gotham? yes. but at least you have your pepper spray.

the streets are dimly lit, casting an orange hue onto the pavement. the second you turn the corner you could already tell something was off. your hand reaches into the bag, pulling out your pepper spray, uncapping it.

your eyes shift around, scanning the area in front of you when a hand reaches out, pulling you back by your shoulder. you hit the persons chest, instinctively pulling back to see who it was.

some street thug who looked like he hasn't taken a shower in days gives you an eerie smile, sending shivers down your body and paralyzes you.

"don't cha' know betta then to walk around at night?" his nasally voice makes you want to recoil into yourself. his rancid cigarette breath doesn't help when he speaks up again.

"hey, i'm talkin' ta yah. you not gon' answer me." he steps forward and you step back in fear. "what? you think you too fuckin' good?"

he reaches into his pocket, pulling out a switchblade. "no like's a fuckin' bitch, yeah?"

before he could do anything, he stops, looking past you. you find the courage to turn, craning your head at the shadowy figure, spotting the symbol on his chest.

batman.

his eyes lock onto yours and you take a sigh of relief. he grunts, softly grasping your shoulder and pushes you behind him. only, when his hand makes contact with you, a white flash comes over your eyes and when it all fades away your met with the thugs face.

except, it's like you're in another persons body.. sort of how when you and your soulmate see out of the others eyes...

you watch as the thug gets beaten into a pulp in an all familiar way, now finally taking notice of the gloves he always wore and how thee thug rasps his name.

by the time the beating is finished your sight has returned to you and you stare into batman's back, your heart racing. he turns, and by the look in his eyes he knows too. he steps back to leave, but you're quicker.

"wait," you reach out, your hand just briefly making contact with his gloved hand. but it's enough for your sight to switch, momentarily seeing your own shocked face from a higher angle.

it was the batman.

"no fucking way," is all you're able to say. your soulmate wasn't a rich street thug.

i tired to make the creepy dude have a new york /jersey accent, but i've never written one before so it's probably shit lol.

[daydream-cement]

At The Drive-In (NSFW)

Miranda Hilmarson x Reader

Miranda's plans to make her girlfriend's first time special.

Author's Note: I have no clue what compelled me to write this.

Miranda felt wrong for it, but after nearly a year of dating you, she was tired of waiting to have sex. The wait to have sex was mostly the blonde’s doing as it was her own way of showing you that she was there for you and you only. 

Kisses were lingering long enough to initiate long bouts of making-out on the constable’s couch. Make-out sessions that the blonde was positive she could feel you grinding against her thigh as the intensity of the kisses increased. Miranda craved your touch to the point she had been daydreaming of this date for weeks.

The drive-in theater had been pointed out by you on a previous date and the constable had been looking at the movie showings for weeks to find something neither of you would want to actually watch. Miranda had been planning for it to be a bit of a romantic excursion, seeing as the Hollywood version of a drive-in usually meant making out.

---

Miranda had been holding this question in the back of her mind for nearly 15 minutes. The movie only serving as background noise to her thoughts. It felt brazen and inappropriate to ask, but she hoped it suggested the desire she had for you. “Would you like to sit in the back with me?” 

“In the back?” Your response was automatic from an initial confusion as it would be harder to see the movie from the back. As you considered the question, you realized Miranda was more interested in spending some quality time with you rather than watching the movie. 

“Yeah.” Miranda felt like she could be sick, but there was no way she could initiate intimacy if she wasn’t willing to ask for it.

There was a brief pause from you as you considered all of the pent up desire you felt for Miranda and the potential there was for you to finally release it all. “Oh... Yes, please.” 

It felt incredibly embarrassing for the constable as she opened her car door and circled back into the back seat. She felt her ears burning and she clenched her fists a few times to chase away the feeling of them starting to shake. You followed suit and slid into the other side of the backseat, your own heart beating like a scared rabbit.

The air was thick with desire, masking itself as unbearable awkwardness. 

You shifted closer together, but there was a timidness to you that caused Miranda to swallow her nerves and take the lead. The constable’s tone was gentle and loving and her hands tentative as she waited for permission before taking any liberties.

“Would you like to sit in my lap?” Miranda asked, her hands drifting gently over your thighs. 

“Mhmm..” You hummed, crawling your way towards the blonde as the constable placed both of her hands on your sides. She brought you to rest in her lap, straddling her thighs. 

In spite of her better instincts, Miranda allowed her hands to shift, stopping at the cusp of your ass. Her fingers swiped back and forth, enjoying the texture of your jeans against the pads of her fingers. You sucked in a breath, not expecting this level of manhandling from Miranda and shocked at how much you loved it.

“You’re very beautiful…” Miranda mumbled as the grip of her hands tightened and she pulled you against her, putting her mouth level at your neck and collarbone. Only if your damned turtleneck weren’t in the way. The constable’s hands trailed over your ass and up her back, her fingers slipping under your sweater and pausing, “Is this okay?”

“Yes.” You squeaked, the speedy pacing being a dramatic change from the blonde’s usual behavior.

“How about this?” Miranda asked as her hands moved higher, beginning to expose your midriff. 

“Y-yes.” You stuttered, your arms beginning to lift away from the blonde’s shoulders to provide her with permission to remove your sweater.

The awareness that you being more undressed than she hit the blonde suddenly. The constable stopped, retracting her hands back to her own shirt, lifting it up over her head. She revealed a simple black bra to you. 

You settled her hips down against the blonde’s thighs and leaned forward, pressing your lips to the blonde’s. The constable tossed her shirt to the side and began lifting your sweater once more. There was no need for the blonde to ask if her motions were okay as you broke your kiss to help lift the sweater up over your head. 

You felt as if there was a faint glow to your chest that only burned brighter when the blonde’s mouth made contact with your neck. Between tastes and kisses, Miranda continued muttering how beautiful she found you to be. Your head was spinning, never had you experienced a sensation that felt as good as this. In order to ground yourself, you gripped the blonde’s shoulders, whimpering as you felt the blonde’s shoulder muscles bulge under your fingertips. 

The constable felt insatiable as her lips drifted across your skin. Sinking to the swell of your breast, the blonde pressed a kiss to both of the mounds before gazing back up at you. “Is this okay? Do you want me to keep going or to slow down?”

“Keep… keep going, please.” You whined, your lips dipping back down to capture the blonde’s once more.

The kissing intensified as tongues swept against one another. Miranda went as far as softly chewing on your bottom lip causing you to shudder as a bolt of lightning coursed through your body. Arousal began pooling between your legs, instinct propelling you to push your hips down against Miranda’s thigh. 

Miranda’s right hand kept splayed on your back while her left drifted around to the button of your pants. She was panting hard, the kisses taking her breath away, “Do… do you… want to, uh… take your pants off?” 

You nodded frantically, pulling away before pressing a few more desperate kisses to Miranda’s lips. The suddenness of the kisses made the constable laugh, and the laughs only seemed to continue at the clumsiness as you attempted to maneuver the backseat as you removed your pants. Your own giggles mixed with the blonde’s as you moved around one another, Miranda focused on keeping you from hitting your head or falling off the back seat.

Through the darkness of the car, Miranda groaned at the faint sight of your underwear. The urges from deep inside the constable got the best of her, her strong hands holding you tight as she guided you to lay back against the cushion of the back seat. Wordlessly, the blonde took a more uncomfortable position with one knee pressing to the floor of the car as her other wedged itself between your legs. 

In spite of her forceful movements, the blonde’s words were as gentle and caring as ever. “Is this okay? I’d love to touch you if you would let me.” 

You whimpered in response, twisting your body as your hips searched for Miranda’s leg to grind against once more.

“I’m sorry, baby, but I need you to say it… I need you to tell me what you want.” Miranda couldn’t believe the way her voice turned sultry and apparently neither could you, seeing as you sucked in a breath at the command.

“I want you to touch me, please.” You begged, your voice hoarse as your mouth went completely dry. Since when was Miranda so dominating? And why on Earth was it so arousing?

Miranda wasn’t interested in teasing you, your inexperience brought a vulnerability that the constable wasn’t looking to exploit. Rather she slowly trailed a hand down your stomach, pausing at the waistband of your underwear to tuck her fingers under the elastic. Before fully pushing her hand in your underwear, she looked up at your face, studying the way your brow furrowed and lips shifted into a pout from your frustration.

“I love you.” Miranda cooed, tears pooling in her eyes as a sudden wave of nostalgia hit her. Never had she waited this long because she had loved someone so dearly. The constable couldn’t ask for a more perfect person to call her own and she found it to be an utter privilege to be given the opportunity to pleasure you.

“I love you, honey. Now, please…” You were beginning to feel impatient, your hips bucking against Miranda’s hand, pushing it deeper into your underwear. You hadn’t realized the semi-emotional moment from the constable, but the neediness of you brought the blonde back to the moment.

Following your soft trimmed bush, Miranda’s fingers found your slick heat and whimpered at how wet you were. The blonde’s fingers brushed over your clit causing you to suck in a breath. The constable decided to fully focus on your clit, knowing now was not the time for penetrative sex. 

At the new sensation of Miranda teasing your bundle of nerves, you dropped her head against the blonde’s sternum and tried to stifle the moans that inched their way from your body. You mewled and clung to the blonde, your hips beginning to roll against the constable’s hand for more.

“Mir… Mir... Oh, Mir...” You called over and over as you unraveled in Miranda’s arms. 

“I love the way you sound… I’ve been waiting for this. You are so perfect…” Miranda couldn’t get enough of the feeling of your wetness against her fingers. As she circled your clit, her mind drifted to how good you probably tasted, how beautiful you would look sprawled out on her bedsheets.

The sounds of your squeaks and whines filled the car, pushing the blonde to add pressure and work her fingers quicker. There was no possible way you could hold out any longer, your inexperience and anticipation bringing you an orgasm quicker than expected. 

You pushed her face into Miranda’s chest, muffling your moan as the orgasm coursed through your body. Your hips bucked against the blonde’s fingers, both searching for stimulation and shifting away from it.

“Oh, baby…” The constable moaned at the sound and feeling of your orgasm, and withdrew her fingers from your underwear, not wanting to push the boundaries of overstimulation quite yet.

You soon began your own assault on the blonde’s neck and shoulders, hands squeezing at the constable’s shoulders and biceps, silently praising Miranda for her regular workout schedule. The fading elation of the orgasm you had experienced still had you on cloud nine and unable to hear Miranda trying to get her attention. “Oh, sweetie… The credits… The movie is over.”

You pulled your face away, eyes searching for the movie screen. “Oh…”

“Do you wanna stay at mine tonight?” The blonde breathed, sitting up in the backseat and pulling you up with her.

“Yes, please. I’d like to return the favor.”

—

On the front step of Miranda’s home, you were losing patience, your hands slipping around Miranda’s waist grasping for her belt buckle. The blonde chuckled and teased by pushing her ass back into you, her hands working diligently to unlock the front door. She opened the door and propped it open with her knee and manhandled you into her arms, lifting you so you could wrap your legs around Miranda’s waist. 

“The couch or the bedroom?” Miranda purred, a strong hand cupping your ass while the other maneuvered in the door. 

Your breath quivered at the return of Miranda’s brazenness. If this was the blonde’s intimate and sexual side, you were ready for more. The constable was always so gentle and sweet, almost to a fault. This physically dominating side could be something you could get used to.

“Bedroom…” You huffed, hands on the blonde’s neck as your thumbs stroked the constable’s jaw.

Swiftly, Miranda took you back to her bedroom, maintaining her hold on you as she crawled into bed. The blonde laid you on the bed and sat up to admire you beneath her. A mixture of nerves and excitement churned in the constable’s stomach as the thought of exploring your body in a comfortable place came to mind. 

Miranda pulled her shirt from her body, followed by her bra, tossing both to the side to reveal herself to the woman she loved so much. You allowed her eyes to slowly drift over Miranda’s rosy nipples, mouth watering at the thought of taking one in your mouth. The blonde’s overzealousness hadn’t given you the opportunity to properly enjoy her body as the constable began tugging your shirt upwards.

In a flash, you grasped the blonde’s wrist, preventing her from seeing your body in the light. There was something so nerve wracking and painfully vulnerable about exposing yourself to her outside the confines of her darkened car.

Miranda took your hesitancy as a sign of her own rushing of the physical relationship. “I’m sorry… Do you want to stop?” 

“No, it’s just…” Your hands tightened around the hem of your sweater, the anxiety of Miranda not liking your form was overpowering.

“I understand if you don’t want me to see, but I’d feel so privileged to see you… to touch you…” 

As always, the blonde’s words were incredibly genuine and loving, so much so that you couldn’t help but trust her. You moved her hands away from the sweater and lifted them above your head, giving the constable permission to undress you. You squeezed her eyes shut, unable to bear what negativite reaction the blonde might have when she realized you weren't as perfect as she thought.

Miranda moved slowly, her hands loving the softness of your skin. With some shifting from you, the blonde was able to lift the fabric up over your head, followed by you removing your bra, exposing your body fully. Miranda couldn’t help it when her breath caught, overwhelmed by how beautiful you were. 

“I knew you were beautiful… but… oh my god…” 

Shock and awe.

That’s what Miranda felt about your beautiful form.

Your hands now covered her face, fearful of Miranda’s face betraying her loving tone. What you couldn’t see was the blonde on the brink of tears, overwhelmed with the divine presence of your exposed form. She blinked away the tears, “God, you… You’re so, so beautiful…” 

Rather than trying to convince you of your beauty with more words, the constable took to showing you how beautiful she found you to be. She started at your bellybutton and slowly worked her way up, occasionally poking her tongue from her lips and licking your sweet flesh. She made her way to your sternum and continued her worship, lips finding every mark and scar available. 

As her mouth worked diligently to kiss every square inch of your body, Miranda’s hands kneaded at your breasts, delighted with how perfectly they fit in the blonde’s hands.

The tenseness brought on by your nerves slowly dissipated as it was evident your body wasn’t deterring Miranda anytime soon. After a short while, you relaxed into the bed and allowed herself to enjoy the constable’s touch. Your skin felt as if it had a glow wherever Miranda’s touched you, bringing a smile to your face. The same slow process of gaining consent followed by body worship occurred after Miranda’s drifted her attention down to your jeans. This time you felt much more prepared to give herself fully to the constable. 

Hours could have passed, neither of you had a concept of how much time had passed, but you both felt buzzed from the intensity. Your breathing was labored as your body ached for another release and Miranda was desperate for a single orgasm. Both of you were needy in the way that you needed to be rapt in one another’s embrace.

“Maybe we could- Would you like to try something?” Miranda asked, her mind finding a solution to her little dilemma.

“Okay.”

Minutes later, Miranda had retrieved a vibrator from her bedside drawer and maneuvered your legs to intersect with Miranda’s, making you look like you were about to scissor. Miranda held the vibrator between your cunts with one hand, and brought the other around your back to keep you close. Uour hands held the blonde’s thighs in a vice grip, the jolting of the vibe against your clit driving you wild. You turned your gaze up to Miranda and were mesmerized by the way the constable was unraveling before you. The blonde’s eyes were squeezed shut and her chest was heaving, causing her breasts to rise and fall in the most wonderful way.

You dipped her head to meet the constable’s breast, humming when the taste of her skin was tangy with sweat. Her nipple was so perfectly textured and shaped that you sucked it slow, releasing it with a popping noise before putting it back in your mouth.

All of it was too much for Miranda, between you moaning around her nipple and your perfect body pressed up against her own, the constable found it impossible to last. She quivered and shook from her orgasm, drawing you in close as she came. You fought hard to come afterwards, your hips bucking and writhing against the vibrator. 

You came with a loud groan, your hips falling away from Miranda’s to allow herself reprieve. 

Flicking the vibrator into the off position, Miranda discarded the sex toy onto the bedside table, turned off the lights with the remote, and settled into bed next to you. Miranda’s frame curled around your smaller one, your limbs quickly becoming intertwined.

“Thank you.” Miranda mumbled, her hand softly tracing circles into your stomach. 

You hushed the constable, your body twisting towards Miranda’s so that you could snuggle in close (hopefully so that you could fall asleep hugging the blonde). “There is no need for that. You are the most wonderful partner I could ask for. I’m happy we could share this experience together.” 

“I love you...”

“I love you.”

[daddy-suguru]

Congrats on 9k followers dear~

If you’re still taking event requests, would it be fine to ask for sex worker!choso x virgin!reader + overstimulation?

- sᴡᴇᴀʀ ᴛᴏ ɢᴏᴅ ɪ’ᴍ ᴅᴏᴡɴ, ᴀʟʟ ʏᴏᴜ ɢᴏᴛᴛᴀ sᴀʏ ɪs…;

ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇs | sugarbaby!choso, rich!virgin!reader, best friends to friends with benefits, overstimulation, fingering/clit rubbing, outdoor sex/sex on the balcony (no near by neighbors), high sex (bud), praise, daddy/princess, pussy kisses, oral, begging, squirting, tattooed!choso with a tongue ring, some making out

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ | 1.6k

sᴜɢᴀʀ’s ʀᴀᴍʙʟᴇs | thank you, also this prompt got away from me, i blinked and it turned into a drabble. sugarbaby!stoner!choso is going to be rotting my brain for a while now

Choso tilts his head to the side, and his fringe covers one of his dark eyes. He insists, "Think it over, are you sure you want to throw away your first time?" Wapping his lips around the butt of the thick blunt.

The end of the tip glows red with his inhale. Illuminating his handsome pale face in a soft red light. Which is already catching the bright light of the full moon.

The dark tattooed line over his nose adds to how pretty he is. While his dark, fluff hair, was taken out of its spiky ponytails, framing his face. With his high cheekbones, pointy nose, full, glossy lips, and sharp jawline. Even the dark circles around his eyes look endearing.

Choso's shirtlessness and his low-hung sweatpants while he leans against the balcony of your private home. Looking like a very tired model. With his toned, brawny build and inky tattoos.

You were trying to get him out of the city, away from his normal profession. Giving him a peaceful night in the woods out of the city Yet here you are offering him some money to eat you out. Since you were curious as to how it felt and didn't trust anyone else than him.

Huffing, "It's not throwing it away if it's you." Choso is one of four people in your life who didn't care about your money. Your friendship always seemed more than enough for him.

Your friendship bracelet Choso bought with a cute little charm, which he said reminded him of you. You had gotten him a bracelet of his own. Something he got into a fight to keep since someone tried to steal it from him once.

Unbeknownst to him, you've fought with your parents for the right to wear. Since the jewels weren't real it was deemed trash to them. You still refused to take it off no matter what snide comments you still got over it.

You say, "But if you don't see me that way. I understand, it's just I'm curious about what it's like to..." You trail off your face heating up as you focus on the blunt that Choso passes while saying nothing. So you ramble,

"And you said you needed some money. I'm tired of you living in that scary motel. So yeah the more I think about it more I want you to be my sugar baby. You won’t let me just give you money, so I thought - I understand if you don’t find me unattractive and don’t want to." Looking off the side of the railing taking a slow drag while Choso pushes off the railing.

He walks up behind you, pressing his body against yours. Whilst grabbing your hips. Something he has done more times than you could count. After you cuddled him on the second movie night Choso would find a reason to have his hands on your body.

The higher Choso gets, the more talkative and touchy he becomes. Choso’s sweet forehead kisses, lingering hugs, and gentle squeezes from his hand, always left you wet and warm. His touch is so comforting, exciting, and safe.

Hitching your large baggy shirt over your hips. Exposing your clothed pussy to the cool wind. Before he reaches in front of you, pushing your panties aside, dragging his fingers along your lips to your clit.

Arching your hips back, his finger following your clit. Taking your second hit while Choso ensures, “Lil’ princess if it’s me it isn’t a waste, as long as you don’t regret this, I don’t want to lose you.” While nudging one thick finger past your lips,

“Tell me if it hurts, or if you're becoming uncomfortable and I’ll stop darling.” He kisses the top of your head, pumping his finger slowly. The blunt shakes between your fingers as you clench around Choso's fingers.

Softly wondering, "Does this mean you're my sugar baby?" Choso gently massages slow tight circles into your sweet spot when he finds it. Squeezing his finger while your knees cave in, pressing against each other.

"I'm all yours since you are insistent on taking care of me, this way I can do something for you to. So when you do move on from me you pussy knows what it's like when someone takes their time showing you how much they adore you." His sweet words are just a part of him playing his role as your sugar baby.

This is something you remind yourself of, Choso still sees you as a friend. Even if he is finger fucking you. Yet you still end up confessing,

"I don't want to share you with others, want you to stay here with me so I can take care of you." The tension building in your stomach is alike to the pleasure you gave yourself. Yet so different, so much more demanding. Turning your brain to slush, and your legs to jello.

Reaching back and grabbing onto Choso, slipping your fingers into his long hair. While wrapping your hand around the back of his neck. Plastering your body against Choso's more so.

He slides his fingers out, while he keeps rubbing your clit. Your cheeks heat up as you realize that Choso is licking your pussy juices off of his fingers. His loud groans fill the night air and you whine for the first time.

Covering your mouth as your eyes widen, "Let me hear you, that was beautiful." Rubbing your clit faster, his rough finger pads stroking small circles onto your soft nub.

"So needy for me aren't you?" Nodding your head, whimpering as you gush, your thick slick soaking your thighs. Yet Choso doesn't stop rubbing your clit. As your legs tremble and your knees lock, giving out.

Choso places the blunt between his lips. Before wrapping his arm around your waist, while asking you, "You can cum for me princess one more time, can't you? Let your beautiful, tight pussy make a mess for me to lick up." Lifting you off your feet, holding you tightly against his body. While he moves to the love chair, sitting down with you on his lap.

He blows out a puff of smoke while he ashes out his blunt. "Tell me how needy you are, have't hear ya sweet voice." You can't form the words as Choso curls two fingers past your lips. As he rubs your clit with the same, quick speed.

The pressure of his thumb is too much. As he rubs your sweet spot relentlessly, "Please! Please!" Sweet, loud mewling begs slip from your lips. Mixing with the wet squelching of Choso's fingers in your pussy.

There is a tighter tension building lower in your gut, "Please what darling?" Looking up as Choso leans over while you mumble,

"Please help me cum daddy." Choso roughly kisses you, biting into your bottom lip. His loud groan tells you that you struck a nerve with that name.

Parting your lips for him to slip his tongue past. Rubbing his tongue bar before mimicking the actions of his tongue. As he pumps his fingers faster, matching the pace he is rubbing your clit.

Thick clear cum squirts from your pussy. As you break the kiss and Choso speeds up the pace of his finger. while you look down. The moonlight glints of your cum. Which coats Choso's hand and wrist. While soaking Choso's sweatpants.

Panting as Choso pulls his hand out and lifts his slicked-up fingers to his lips. While you catch your breath he licks his fingers clean. When your breathing steadies you slip off Choso's lap.

Your legs wobble as Choso grabs your hips to steady you while musing, "Princess, I haven't even given you my cock yet, did you squirt that hard?" He drops his hand as you push your panties down. The long thick string of your cum stretches and snaps.

Bending over in front of Choso, spreading your pussy apart for him. While admiting, "I'm so needy I keep thinking about the way your cock looks straining in your sweatpants. Please Daddy! Cho, nnng Daddy!" He kisses your pussy before slipping two thick, tattooed fingers past your lips.

Spreading your squishy self apart to spit inside of you. Stuffing his spit inside of you while asking, "You want me to be your sugar Daddy and be sweet on your pussy?" Rubbing your clit with his thumb. Which is still so sensitive from cumming so much. Yet you don't want him to stop.

Choso groans, "Fuck I've seen so many pussies but none as pretty as yours. And the way you taste!" He replaces his fingers with his tongue. His tongue ring drags along your squishy pussy. While he keeps stroking circles into your clit.

Whining to him, "You're my daddy cho, I love how you always check up on me if I've eaten. And you encourage me to take care of myself, along with how well you listen to me." Groaning as you reach back and grab a handful of his hair.

You're going to make his hair softer with the right self-care products you can splurge on getting for him. While using him being your sugar baby as the reason for him to finally accept your gifts.

Choso pulls away, crooning, "One more time, whose your Daddy princess?" Standing up and dropping his sweatpants. Pushing them to the side, swiping his thick head along your slit. Swirling himself at your small hole while softly pushing past.

The burning of the stretch has you whimpering and Choso pulls away. While you shift your hips from side to side, telling him, "You are! You've been taking care of me already for so long, I want you to be selfish for once and let me make you feel good." He steps out from behind you, as you stand up.

Furrowing your brows as he walks in front of you. Your confusion is short lasting as Choso confesses, "I'm getting off on your pleasure. If you really want to help me be selfish, then sit down, spread your legs, and let me eat your pretty pussy till I'm finished." He grabs the bottom of your shirt as you raise your arms, for him to slip it off.

Sitting down, spreading your folded legs apart. As Choso turns on the balcony's lights he stands in front of you. "Princess you're so beautiful, such a yummy pussy all wet for me."

[the-dawn-star]

May I ask for aged up yandere alec volturi where the reader is his mate and Bella's little sister and she is just such a cute cinnamon roll and is so oblivious so when their is a big fuss because alec wants her to stay in Volterra she is just like "ok!" With a smile because she over heard that it would affect him worst than bella and she was like "well I don't want anyone to be hurt." So they are forced to leave her and alec is just there holding her taking her to their room and is like "you can't leave without me." And she's like "can you bring my stuffies and get me some paint?"

A/N: Hello, lovely anon and thanks for the request. Hope you like it! Just to be safe, again !!Alec is the movie version, not the like 13-year-old book version!!

-S

+ 400ish words.

Alec felt the need to protect you the moment when he first saw you. And after a while he talked with Marcus and Aro who confirmed Alec’s suspicion.  

You were his mate and you needed to be protected from the evil outside world.  

So, Alec, Aro and few other guards took a trip to Forks 

You were sitting down on the Cullens couch with Bella next to you. Carlisle stayed close by, making sure that no one got upset. Aro and Alec sitting like they owned the massive house.  

Aro explained how you and Alec were mates and how you should come to stay in Volttera, at least to get to know Alec.  

For a moment you couldn’t say anything, still puzzled by the fact of mates.  

But your sister spoke before you could say anything, yelling how you were meant to be with your sister and your family.  

“Does it hurt you? I mean, when I’m not with you?” You asked while there was a second of silence.  

You remember hearing that if mates were away from each other for a long time it could get extremely painful.  

“Yes,” Alec responded quietly.  

“Well, I don’t want you to be hurt...,”  

So, you decided to go to Volttera with the vampires.  

~~~  

Trip to Volttera was lovely and every second Alec got more and more possessive of you, but he was your mate so this must be a normal reaction of finally finding your mate.  

Alec introduced you to some of the higher guards, before taking you to your new shared room.  

You hugged one of your stuffed animals while looking around the room which was mostly empty.  

“I don’t want you to leave this room without me, okay?”  

I nodded and hugged the lamb stuffie harder.  

“I need to hear you say that you hear and understand me.” Alec said and walked in front of me so he could see my face.  

“Yeah, I get it...,”  

“You don’t need to be afraid of me, I’m just trying to look after you.” Alec’s voice softened and cradled my cheek on his hand.  

“It’s not about it...”  

“Then what is it?”  

“I was just thinking if I can bring the rest of my stuffies here, and maybe some nice paint, this whole place is really cold.”  

Alec had to smile at your words, he was expecting a lot worse.  

“Of course, whatever you want, my darling.”

[mangoisms]

circle k (back to you)

summary: in which you're just the graveyard shift employee at circle k bombarded by vigilantes.

━ chapter five: i am found on the ground | read chapter four

━ pairing: tim drake x f!reader

━ word count: 4.5k

━ warnings: none

━ masterlist

━ a/n: if you'd like to see my notes (and my thoughts behind a certain inclusion of a character in this chapter), you can find them here <3 (also i'm on fire is playing in the last scene the formatting of the lyrics just killed me so i had to get rid of it thank you all)

“You just can’t beat it.”

“It was okay.”

You turn sharply to look at Tim, who shrugs, a small smile playing on his lips. 

In the kitchen, Steph snorts. “Here we go.”

You ignore her. “Okay? Inception was okay—”

“Uncalled for—”

“But true. This?” You gesture to his flatscreen TV, where the end credits for Interstellar are playing; you’re a little bit red-eyed from the end scenes with Cooper and Murph but no less passionate. “This is more than okay. It’s—”

“Not technically scientifically accurate.”

You grab a pillow and gently whack him with it. He tries to hide a growing smile. You don’t understand what exactly he’s smiling at but you don’t care in this moment.

“It’s not about scientific accuracy, duck boy, it’s about love.”

“Yeah!” Steph yells from the kitchen. “Go love! Woo!”

You gesture in her direction. “He literally said it in the movie, Tim. How can you miss it? And Brand, too!”

“It wasn’t enough to save who she loved, though,” he points out—ever the devil’s advoactate, honestly…

“But it was there and she knew that, too, and she was okay with it. And it was enough for Cooper and Murph, too. I mean, literally to the point that she was able to save humanity. Right? Brand said it—love is the one thing we are capable of perceiving that transcends dimensions of time and space.”

Tim looks… well, far from upset or annoyed. He seems amused, almost… almost fond, the way he looks at you, but it’s too much for you to handle, so you look away, pouting a little.

“And also, okay, I know entering the black hole wasn’t ‘scientifically accurate’ but that’s the point, that some higher being switched them out so he didn’t die. You do have to admit, however, that the depiction of the black hole, which I’ll give Nolan props for, was great.”

“Okay, true,” he concedes. “The score was pretty good, too.”

“It was excellent.”

Steph steps out from the kitchen, looking at her phone. “Give me a sec, you guys, my mom’s calling me.”

You both give her an affirmative and she steps out the front door. You and Tim quickly resume your discussion.

“Inception’s score was good, too,” he points out. 

“Bah. They both had Zimmer. Of course it’s going to be good. But Interstellar has the benefit of being enhanced by it because it’s already a good movie. I mean, it surprises even me that Nolan could manage to pull off something like this.”

“He has the range,” Tim protests. 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, you Nolan stan. I’m still a bit hung-up on you saying it’s just ‘okay.’ I mean, sure, it could just be me projecting my own grief about my dead parents onto the story about a dad crossing space and time to get back to his daughter but still!”

That’s the understatement of the century. The scenes between Cooper and an old Murph never fail to make you tear up. Any of the scenes between them, really. 

The prolonged silence from Tim tips you off and it’s only when you look at him do you realize your mistake.

His eyes are wide as he looks at you, surprised, with something else. 

“Oh, it’s fine—”

“Your parents are—”

You both stop. 

You clear your throat, waving a hand. “It’s fine. I… I mean, sorry if it made you uncomfortable, I joke about it sometimes.”

“No,” he says. “It’s okay. It just surprised me. I guess… I don’t want to—I mean—I’m, uh, sorry?”

You shift on the couch, turning more toward him. “It’s okay. It was… well, not that long ago, but—”

You stop, because your instinctive response is ‘I’m over it’ but that’s not totally true, is it? You don’t think you’ll ever be over it. One part of you still feels horribly robbed of them, and some days, their deaths feel so monumental you can barely get through the day, while others, you can function normally for the most part. 

“No, I understand,” he says softly. “My parents, too. My mom when I was younger but my dad died when I was sixteen. It’s… not really something you get over, I think. No matter how much time passes.”

A quiet moment between you. It’s not like he’s tried to make you feel ostracized—if anything he’s gone out of his way to make you feel welcomed here, to make sure he and Steph don’t get too caught up on their own and they include you—but… This is a common thread between you and you know he knows and you know he knows you know. 

“Yeah… Yeah, exactly.” You pause, glancing at the TV, where the credits are rolling now. “It happened when I was fifteen. The, um, earthquake.”

“I’m sorry,” he says again and you know he means it. 

“I’m sorry about yours, too.”

Tim nods, the look on his face still soft, still gentle, then he glances back at the TV. 

“I was kidding, you know,” he says next. “It, uh, really was good. Better than I thought it would be. Scientific inaccuracy aside…”

“It’s good,” you press, ignoring the last comment. “And I don’t think it was trying to fool anyone into scientific accuracy.”

“Also true. I just…”

“Wasn’t expecting it to hit that hard?” you guess, smiling. “Yeah, I get it. Cried like a baby when I first saw it. You’re stronger than me for getting through it dry-eyed.”

“Oh, I’m just waiting for later,” he says. “Saving my sorrows for my pillow. That kind of thing.”

You laugh loudly. He smiles. 

“It does unearth all the dead parent trauma, though,” he says. 

“Oh, tell me about it. Cooper wanting to try to go back home after they find out Dr. Brand never intended to help those on earth…”

“And then having to sacrifice himself to give Brand a chance,” he finishes, shaking his head. “Only for it to turn out well in the end. If only real life was like that.”

A shade too dark for right now but you can’t say you disagree. 

The front door opens. Steph slips back inside, raising an eyebrow at you two. Though she hardly means what you think she means, you find yourself inching away from Tim, turning back forward slightly. You’d hate to give her the wrong impression.

And of course, that is not at all what she is thinking about.

“Why do you two look like someone just died?”

“Well, we were just talking about our dead parents, so,” Tim responds without missing a beat.

You burst out laughing. Steph groans. 

“I was wrong. You two shouldn’t be friends.”

“It’s too late for that, I think,” Tim says, grinning. 

You can’t help but grin, too.

She groans again.

Catwoman is your next vigilante visitor.

All skin-tight latex and a coquettish attitude that makes your face hot.

Luckily, she doesn’t appear to mind. She even pays for her stuff. 

(“I was told,” she purrs. “And I don’t much like being told what to do but… you’re cute enough to convince me to go along with it.”

You don’t think the noise you made was human but it amused her enough.)

Alongside that, you have the others who regularly drop by. Your vigilantes, but then, as you pick up a few weekend afternoon shifts (much to Steph’s disapproval), some normal faces, too.

Barbara, a red-haired woman with sharp green eyes who has a stately and intimidating aura to her but is always pleasant when you two chat. Sometimes she has another woman with her, a pretty blond Barbara calls D. Then, that one man, the stocky blonde with the tortoise-shell glasses and a quiet but kind disposition, who eventually introduces himself as Jean-Paul. 

You spot him during one of your weekend shifts, waiting his turn as you finish ringing up a harried-looking lady. Another man joins him, a little bit younger, you think, with dark hair and an odd white streak at the front; they’re both dressed in scrubs. 

“It’s been a while, Jason.”

“You know how it is, JP. Work doesn’t stop. How’s Leslie?”

“Doing everything at once and somehow managing to pull it off. I’m sure she’d like to see you, if you could find the time.”

“Sure. I’ve got a couple days off from the hospital. I could drop in. Lend a hand.”

A soft chuckle. “If she doesn’t turn you around and tell you to go rest.”

“I’ll rest when I’m dead.”

He coughs. The other man snickers.

Just as the lady leaves, Jean-Paul says, “Let me pay.”

“I won’t say no.”

They both step up to the counter. Jean-Paul gives you a small smile in greeting and seems to decide to forgo your usual small talk—probably because of his new company, which you’re a bit grateful for. The other man—Jason?—nods, eyeing you curiously. Why, you have no idea. But that’s the only thing odd about it. You ring up the coffees without issue and soon, they’re stepping out, Jean-Paul giving you another small smile in goodbye. You return it. 

Having regulars like that reminds you of the ones you had in Keystone City. Kind Mr. Garrick, who stopped by about once a month for lottery tickets, his wife typically in tow; they were always kind to you, always a little bit concerned over your wellbeing, whether you were getting enough sleep or eating well. Painfully reminiscent of grandparents you never had. 

A little more frequently, there was Linda Park-West, a face you easily recognized from WKEY-TV for the Channel 4 News. She didn’t miss much, always so perceptive, but kind to you, sometimes testing your PR skills as a reporter. She usually stopped by for coffee before work but on occasion, she brought along her kids, Jai and Iris, to let them pick out something for themselves, too. Quite literal balls of energy, they were a handful but always good-intentioned. 

You miss them all a lot. More than you thought you would. The Flash, too. Especially these days. What you’d give to talk to him about all this stuff…

But you’ve managed on your own since your parents died. You can keep doing it. 

The following week, Tuesday night, you get another new vigilante visitor.

This one?

Robin. 

He is, admittedly, a figure you are considerably more scared of. It’s a bit… silly on your part, too, because he is a kid, you think, a teen at least, but, well, teens can be scary. This one certainly is. If only because of his close proximity to the one who scares the most. The one who you are happy not to have visited you thus far and Robin’s appearance… well, you don’t entirely know if it’s a good thing. 

But it might be foolish to assume that Batman doesn’t know this is happening. 

But then thinking of him knowing you exist makes you horribly anxious, so, you shelve the thought for now and try to focus on the situation.

Which is…

The three dogs in tow collapse in front of the door, panting, tongues lolled out, appearing to enjoy the air-conditioned bliss of the inside of the store. Robin stares at you, his face a blank mask. 

“Water?”

“At the back. Far left.”

He nods and turns.

You wait there, uncertain, glancing at the dogs. They look worse for wear, fur dirty and matted, old scars healed over; the sight tugs at your heart, so you step around from the counter, heading to the coffee machine. The store doesn’t carry bowls but the extra-large soda cups are wide enough to work for now. 

Robin appears near you, several big bottles of water held in hand. He doesn’t say anything, just looks at you and the cups.

“Don’t have any bowls,” you admit. “So, I thought this might work.”

He wrinkles his nose. “Styrofoam. Wasteful. But it’ll do.”

“Yeah, Circle K isn’t breaking barriers in terms of eco-friendliness.”

He says nothing to that, just turns and heads for the dogs. You follow him, not that turned off. You’ve heard rumors about this particular Robin. He does a good job but can be… rough around the edges. Like Bat, like Robin, you guess.

Glancing at the cups, you get an idea, stopping to duck around the counter and grab a pair of scissors. You cup off the top half of each of them, Robin taking them as you go, until all three cups are cut, allowing for the dogs to have better reach. 

You join him with the last one, filling it with cold water. Most of the dogs are so heat tired, they only lift their heads to drink, seemingly unable to stand.

You and Robin stay kneeled in front of them, filling the cups when necessary. You gently stroke the head of one nearest to you, smiling as his tail thumps against the tiles. 

Robin says nothing else and neither do you. That’s how his time there goes, spent in silence, petting the dogs, letting them cool down and rest. 

Eventually, he starts to leave, and you can’t help but ask, “What’s going to happen to them?”

He regards you for a moment and you get the unnerving feeling of being picked apart and analyzed. Still, you hold steady. It’s good practice, you try to tell yourself. One day, you’ll be faced with bloodhounds for journalists and you have to keep it together. Let yourself practice with Robin because if you can pull it off with him, you can do it with anyone. 

“The shelters are closed for the night,” he eventually responds. “I will take them somewhere safe, off the streets. Then in the morning, they’ll go there.”

“That’s good. Thanks for doing that. It’s kind of you.”

He pauses, looking back at the dogs, who are rejuvenated by this point, stretching and standing up, tails wagging as they look at you two. 

“It’s the right thing to do,” he says at last. “And… thank you, for your help.”

You glance away, picking up the cups. “Sure. No problem.”

A nod and Robin is soon corralling the dogs out of the store, murmuring more gently to them than you would expect, but from this experience, you suspect he has some kind of soft spot for animals. It’s endearing, in a way. 

You hope you made a good impression on him, too. 

(And if your good impression keeps Batman out a little longer, well, that’s just a lucky coincidence.)

The start of July creeps on you. 

There is still achingly little contact between you and Tim. By this point, you haven’t seen him in person for more than a month.

You miss him, in the same way you miss a limb. Scrolling through your social media, whenever you find something funny or that he would like, your knee-jerk reaction is to send it to him. But your conversations on those respective platforms are made up of messages from you and none from him, so you have to stop yourself, because it wouldn’t be worth it. He wouldn’t see it. 

Steph tries to preoccupy your time, though her behavior regarding Tim grows increasingly skittish, to the point where you almost think she might know.

She might know that you’re in love with him, him, her ex-boyfriend and first love. The thought brings on the usual amount of soul-crushing guilt and disgust with yourself. How can you do that to her? She’s your best friend. You love her to the ends of the universe and back and… How can you do that to her?

But… something else about it all niggles at you, too. She switches between reassuring you he’ll come around, and dismissing him the other times, saying you ‘don’t need him to have a good time.’ It makes you think they may be having their own issues, too.

The thought is sobering. 

You’ve always thought of Steph and Tim as—as insane as it sounds—a pair of bonded kittens. Not exactly getting along all the time but…

You couldn’t separate them. You shouldn’t separate them. 

And it feels so wrong for it to be just you two, sometimes. Like you’re missing another piece of the puzzle and it’s noticeable. This empty space between you two that he usually filled. Your group chat, at his insistence, is called the three musketeers. Well, you’re missing your third. Desperately.

“We can rebrand,” Steph says to you one day, the two of you at the mall’s food court. Tim said he was busy. Again.

“No,” you sigh. “That’s not… no. Anyway, Big Belly?”

“I—oh, you have got to be kidding me.” She sounds annoyed, voice sharp.

“What?” you ask, your eyes still on the menu in front of you. 

She grabs your arm. “I think we should eat somewhere else.”

You frown at her. “But you said you wanted to get—”

“We can get Big Belly somewhere else. Maybe a little more quiet, you know, it’s kinda crazy in here,” she laughs, though it sounds strained as she tugs you over to the exit. 

“Crazy? It’s not that busy—Stephanie!” You yelp as she drags you forward before you can take a look around. “What is going on—”

“It’s just—I think I see Jordanna—”

“Where—”

“Let’s not look! Don’t want her to see you or me, you know how she is, so, let’s get out of here…”

“Well, I—okay—you don’t have to—”

She tugs you all the way through the exit, out into the burning mid-afternoon heat. Humidity swallows you whole, turning your skin tacky, sun bearing down on you full-force. Outside, it smells sharply of gasoline and hot blacktop.

“Honestly, Steph,” you say, shaking your head. “You didn’t need to drag me out like that.”

She gives you an apologetic smile. “Sorry. I just… didn’t want to deal with Jordanna. She’s been really annoying me recently.”

“Has she?” You can’t imagine why Jordanna would even be talking to her since it’s the summer, but to be fair, there isn’t much Jordanna wouldn’t do in the name of annoying her. 

“Yup. Just… acting way out of line. So, let’s go somewhere else.”

“Alright, that’s fine. Let’s get out of the heat before you have to scrape me off the pavement.”

“Food’s on me,” she promises, looping her fingers through the belt loops of your jeans, tugging you gently; too hot to hold hands or twine your arms together like usual. 

Though the whole thing bothers you a little bit, you are too used to Steph and Tim’s sometimes strange ways. Leaving abruptly, missing scheduled hangouts, a penchant for tardiness. The occasional bruise or cut that they both wave away. The exhaustion that wears them down sometimes.

It’s odd.

But stranger things happen in Gotham, so, you heed their wishes for that stuff to be ignored. 

Just like you let this one go, too. 

Really. The things you do for them.

Oddities aside, as Tim remains virtually radio silent, you miss him more. Think about him more. 

Dream about him more.

“Steph’s going to be late,” is what Tim says as soon as he steps inside your dorm. 

You snort. “Of course she is. You’re both terrible at being punctual.”

“I… am less bad at it than she is.”

“Right,” you say, smirking, pointing to your clock. “You’re only twenty minutes late, compared to what her forty minutes to an hour will be.”

Tim grimaces as he shuffles off his shoes by the door, then steps in further. “She said she was showering.”

“So, we have even more time. That’s fine. I wanted to paint my nails.”

In the bathroom you share with your ‘roommate,’ the shower turns on. It’s really just the bathroom you two share. Your small dorm is entirely private. The perks of being a junior. 

You go over to your dresser, where your collection of makeup and nail polish is. Above it, your window looks out to the grassy quad, the sky clear of clouds, unusually blue today without the typical smog; the sun shines in, dust motes dancing in the rays.

Tim comes over, too, but he goes for your phone instead, which is connected to your Bluetooth speaker, music playing lowly; he got that for you this past Christmas. 

“Gonna play your old people music?”

“Bruce Springsteen is a treasure to this country and, to quote my dad, one of the few good things to ever come out of the state of New Jersey.”

You laugh. The song changes. The upbeat notes of Hungry Heart start. You’ve heard this one more than a couple times since meeting him. It’s not so bad. 

You fiddle with the bottles of nail polishes. Tim sets your phone down and leans over, dropping his chin to your shoulder as he watches you, humming quietly under his breath. 

The contact makes your heart skip a beat, tendrils of his cologne wrapping around you, the heat of his body palpable through your thin t-shirt. It’s a contradicting sensation, with the AC working hard to beat the May heat that’s settled in. Maybe too hard, as your fingers are a little bit cold. You warm up quickly with Tim so close to you, your heart thudding in your ears. You desperately hope he can’t feel the heat that expands in your face.

That’s a more recent development. One you hate looking too closely at, for fear of what it means.

(You do know what it means. You’re just still in denial. Because admitting it means you have feelings for your best friend’s ex-boyfriend. For your best friend.)

You keep fiddling, not sure which color to pick. Tim huffs softly, reaching past you, picking out a bottle of wine red nail polish.

“Fine. But you have to help,” you say, taking it from him, then grabbing another bottle for the top coat. 

“Don’t I always?”

You just nudge him back, stepping away from the dresser and taking a seat on the floor. The floor is hard, polished concrete; not pleasant to sit on or walk on, so you’ve invested in several cushioned rugs to cover as much as you can. 

Tim grabs a Zesti from your mini fridge, then joins you as you set to painting the nails of your left hand. This one is easier since you’re using your dominant hand and you manage to paint your nails without catching any of the skin around them. 

The shower in your bathroom hums underneath the sound of the song as you finish your left hand. The first coat, anyway. Tim passes his Zesti to you, wipes a hand on his jeans to get rid of the condensation, then takes the bottle of nail polish. 

You sip the soda, extending your right hand to him. He carefully balances the bottle on the rug and sets to painting your nails. 

Like with most things he does, Tim dedicates himself to his task wholeheartedly, cornflower blue eyes trained on your hand, tongue poking out in concentration. The sight makes your heart skip a beat. Warmth unspools in your chest like cotton candy.

Sunlight pours in from the window above the dresser, bathing him in warm, golden rays; it makes the shade of his dark hair warmer, the blue of his t-shirt, too, softening the pale of his skin. 

“So… how was that date?”

The question jars you. You avert your eyes. 

Ah. The date you agreed to go on with a guy in your communications class in an attempt to… you don’t know. Distract yourself from Tim? Try to find someone else to latch onto? All… not so great reasons, you know, but needs must. 

Not like it worked out, anyway…

“Terrible.”

He stiffens, pausing in his work to look at you, eyes narrowing, and you send him a small smile, privately pleased—though you shouldn’t be—at seeing him get all protective. You can take care of yourself and he knows that, too, but… one can appreciate having a cute guy be like that for you. Within reason, anyway. 

“He didn’t do anything, Timmy, relax. He was just… well, seemed nice initially. But when we got to the restaurant, he was horrible to the waitress. I already wasn’t feeling it, but after that, no way. So.”

He glances away, thumb rubbing idly at the back of your hand from where he cradles it in his. “Sorry to hear that.”

“It’s okay. It wasn’t a good idea.”

“To go with him or—” he clears his throat, turning back to his work “—dating in general?”

“I don’t know. He just wasn’t what I was looking for.”

“What are you looking for?”

You, you want to say, but don’t. 

Frightening to realize, really, that the answer to that question is immediate, as sure as the day. 

It’s Tim. 

Always Tim. 

But you’ve never felt this way for someone. This strongly, like you want so much, you could never be satisfied. 

“I don’t know,” you say quietly, watching the brush of the handle glide over your nail in easy, practiced sweeps. “Does anyone?”

“I guess not,” he concedes softly. “But still. I hope you can find it.”

The song changes. Something calmer, with the strum of the guitar. Familiar croons of I'm On Fire.

I have found it, you want to say. It’s you. It’s this. Right here, right now.

But just because you found it doesn’t mean it’s yours.

“Do you?” you find yourself asking because apparently you’re feeling extra masochistic today. “Know what you’re looking for, I mean.”

Steph sometimes teases him. Tries to point out nice boys and girls he might like. You used to play along. You don’t so much these days. 

He would always wave it off, anyway. Just shake his head and change the subject. He has dated before. Obviously. Someone as gorgeous as him… all of Gotham wants a piece of him. You do, too. Well. You want all of him. Which is another thing you are just now realizing. But anyway, since you’ve known him, he hasn’t dated anyone. He used to date a boy—Bernard? Steph said he was a character—from one of his old high schools but that didn’t work out. And now he still has the occasional date, but it never pans out. He says they just aren’t compatible. 

Makes you curious.

You’d never match up to it, you know, but you want to know, anyway. 

Tim looks up, his eyes slowly scanning your face. This close, with the sunlight, you can see the shadows his lashes cast on his cheeks, the flecks of silver in his eyes, like mercury, the odd scars, too, that he excuses behind clumsiness as a child. Everything inside you squeezes.

“I guess you can say that,” he eventually says, voice soft. 

The words hurt, but distantly, like it’s all far away from you. You’re too caught up here, now, close enough to smell his cologne. 

Tension thickens the air between you. It’s unfamiliar, unknown, but not unwelcome with how your stomach swoops like you missed a step, heart pounding in your ears. 

Tim looks… contemplative. Your eyes are immediately drawn to the movement of him biting his lip, teeth sinking into plush pink, and the urge to soothe away the indents with your own lips is fearsome, monumental, like a hurricane. 

His fingers tighten on your hand. You want to get swept away in this moment, no matter the consequences. It’s a dangerous kind of feeling you aren’t used to. 

But the shower abruptly shuts off in the bathroom, plunging the room back into silence with the strum of the guitar and the croon of the song as it ends. The moment is broken. 

Tim clears his throat and returns to his work. 

Neither of you say anything. 

Too much for you to want. 

Too much you cannot have.

Too complicated.

reblogs are appreciated!

taglist: @peachesona @knoxx-seresinbradshaw @kikis-writing-service @sweetistic @soundsfunbutno @ginevraxrogers @fridaenpina @skcj24 @bath1lda @omfg-its-tay @laughydaphne @fhrjrirj @iamthesimpmother @alittlelateforstars @thaliadoesthings @scarlett13 @zelabee @coffee-love-alltheabove @benstormy @sad-girl09 @lockofspades @thereallchristine

[ask to be tagged! either here or my inbox! ^_^]

[cybertron-smash-or-pass]

I mean yeah voice actors voices are hot but also like in appearance

Corey Burton is a cutie

You know what, that's valid

You must go on a vision quest to see what the MCU is blind to (and by that I mean go find one (1) weird indie movie youve never heard of and watch the whole thing). Then you will be cleaned of your corporate media sins (/lh)

Oh good, I get to talk about this dumbass show (beloved)

RiD 01 as a whole is a SILLY fuckin show. Like they took the sillygoofy nature of g1 and went "bet," then cranked it 10 times higher. G1 still had its somber moments. Character work. Genuinely threatening and downright cruel villains. RiD 01 has occasional complex characters, but 90% of the time, this show is a fairly low-stakes comedy that's going full camp.

The autobots are dysfunctional and just straight up weird. Three of them are brothers, and it's not a trio anyone would EVER expect. Prowl is a fucking narc. Brawn is here but he's named X-Brawn bc I guess he had to get that Xtreme rebrand for the 2000s. He's also closer to Ironhide than anything, complete with the Texas accent. Their other brother is named Sideburn, he's the bumblebee equivalent as the Designated Kid Appeal Character, but he's also, and I shit you not, a sex pest about red sports cars. Not just bots with sports car alts. Any red sports car. He will drop everything to go chase a sexy red car and he catcalls it the whole time. The TFA constructicons have NOTHING on this guy. He gets so aggressively horny on main his narc-ass cop brother has to arrest him for it.

Optimus is here, and he's got his own family trouble. He has a brother too, and it's fucking Ultra Magnus. Magnus hates his guts because OP got chosen as Autobot leader and he didn't. At one point they find a cache of blank protoforms, Megatron gets to it first, and has one of them scan both himself and Optimus when he comes online, which results in Scourge, my lameass emo boyfriend i was defending through the whole Scourge War. He's literally just, like, Their Kid and he fucking hates his autobot dad so he lives with Megatron instead to try and make him proud of how Evil and Competent he is.

Megatron has like. Too many altmodes. Just too many. One of them sort of kind of counts as a sports car, that is partially red, Sideburn gets horny about it. Finding out it was Megatron did not stop him for asking for a date. Canon bisexual before IDW, even in the English dub.

The main villains serving Megatron are the predacons and they're about as threatening as team rocket and roughly half as competent. One of them is a squirrel voiced by Steve Blum. The second in command is SkyByte and he's so fucking bad at being evil. He writes poetry (which Optimus roasts the shit out of). He takes online personality quizzes and then gets legitimately upset if he doesn't get the results he wants. This was the plot of an entire episode. He has a crush on Megatron and fantasizes about doing a good job for him. He doesn't like scourge because he thinks he's Meg's new favorite. He does circus tricks on command. He has a soft spot for kids and he was so nice to them while actively trying to be evil that he ended up with a fanbase in-universe that followed him around and encouraged him to be a good guy. He is the EPITOME of a skrunkly little loser boyfailure AND he's a shark. What more could you ask for.

This is not even a quarter of the insane shit that happens in this show. It has NO chill, ever. If you want to see pure, unbridled chaos from robots that are usually at least a little more serious and intense, I literally cannot rec it enough. A lot of hot robots too, tbh. The things id do to Midnight Express...

Beeussy

[chrissv4mp]

tornado warnings 🌪⚠️

warnings: vulgar language, maybe gets a little sexual but not real smut, getting back with an ex (don't do this seriously its the WORST decision you'll ever make)

author's note: GUYS i am so obsessed with sabrina carpenter so i js HADDDDD to make a matt oneshot based on one of her songs!!

edit: yall are getting this early bc i couldn't wait to post it & i also just hate having stuff in my drafts!!

_____________

"matt," you laughed, stumbling over your own feet as you tried to make your way to him.

"c'mon, just a few more steps. don't fall now, darling." he joked, and you swear you felt nauseous at the thought of it.

your eyes glanced to the ground, and you forgot how high up you were. was the alcohol just making it seem higher?

you took the last few steps with caution, and right at the last one, you stepped on your shoelace, causing you to stumble forward.

"shit," matt gasped, grabbing your forearm tight but gentle enough that it wouldn't hurt. he pulled you back, the both of you falling on your asses on the roof.

matt laughed at your shocked expression, acting as if you hadn't almost broken bones. he was always like this, never feeling anything. and even if he did, he would just find it funny.

"what the fuck?" you gasped, and before you could even yell at him, you started to laugh. his laughter was contagious, everyone would agree.

his hold on you didn't last long, quickly pushing you out of his arms and getting to his feet.

your smile faded as you watches him crawl back into the house through the window, leaving you by yourself.

what kind of boyfriend does that?

you shook your head, fending off the bad thoughts and quickly thinking of how many other guys were worse. matt wasn't even a bad boyfriend.

he just... was a little scared of relationships. it was the commitment, he always said.

_____________

sighing, you stared up at the ceiling of the office, the only sound in the room being a pen writing on paper and your quiet breaths.

"so, back to what we talked about last session, your boyfriend?--"

"ex." you corrected, looking back in your therapists direction.

"oh, i'm sorry ms. y/l/n. uhm, you said you felt unwanted, but that you still believed he had a good heart, is that correct?" the man asked, looking down at the paper in his clipboard.

"yeah, yes, that's right." you breathed, fidgeting with your hands as you looked around the room.

"you also said that you planned to breakup with him, cut off all communication. have you spoken to him since said breakup?" he tilted his head, looking up from his clipboard.

shit.

"no, no i haven't. never saw him. never kissed him." you said, your voice growing quiet as you said the last words.

if he didn't see it, it doesn't exist. he doesn't have to know.

the man sighed, taking his glasses off before placing them on a table to the side, "ms. y/l/n, this is a safe space, you know that. we've been doing these sessions for a little over 7 months now, and i'm sure that you know everything you tell me in here is private and is never spoken of outside this office."

"i know, i do feel that this is a safe space. and i swear to you i'm telling the truth. im over that son of a bitch. he's the worst." your lips curved into a reassuring smile, and unsurprisingly it hadn't helped your case.

"okay," he sighed.

_____________

you glanced at the clock on the wall, sitting at the island in your kitchen as you finished up some work on your computer.

your phone was left untouched next to your mouse pad and you silently prayed that it remained silent.

the screen lit up, and an array of messages suddenly blew up your phone.

great, just what you wanted!

you didn't take your eyes off the computer screen, but as soon as you saw matts contact name in the corner of your eye, you couldn't help but grab the phone.

matt🫀: 'can i come over???'

matt🫀: 'nvm im already On my way!'

matt🫀: 'bringing snacks btw, we should watch a movie if ur down'

matt🫀: 'was gonna ask what u wanted but u take centuries to reply soooo coke and kit-kats it is :)

"what?" you whispered, chuckling quietly at his texts.

no, you can't laugh. none of this was funny, and he knows that he's crossing your boundaries right now. why does he always do this?

you: you js keep gaining red flags every day, we're not playing capture the flag, ykw that right?🚩

matt🫀: we're always playing capture the flag, the only flags i collect r green tho!💋

he couldn't be serious. was he even real?

you: sassy man apocalypse has started yet again😱

matt🫀: you take the man out of the sassy apocalypse, not the sassy out the man🤷‍♀️

you: your the worst

matt🫀: you're*

your thumb hit the power button, and not even a minute later, the doorbell rung.

having forgotten about your laptop, you quickly jumped to your feet and ran to the door. a smile was plastered on your lips, and you couldn't seem to get rid of it.

why must you always fall for his tricks. he's such a dick.

"hey, darling," he smiled, his backpack hanging off one shoulder and a plastic grocery bag hanging off the other.

his pet name caught you off guard, and you swore your knees almost gave out. no man has ever made you as weak as matt has.

who does he think he is?

"hi, matt." you smiled, and he didn't hesitate when he leaned down to kiss you.

your hand went to his chest, pushing him back and moving your head to the side even if your hand kept him back.

he scoffed in fake offense, pulling away, "you're no fun, y'know?"

"i'm fully aware." you laughed before moving to the side to let him in.

he went straight to your room, having known your house so well since he had been living with you for a while before.

all doubtful thoughts were thrown out the window as you made your way to the bedroom. you caught matts eye as you made you walked in.

"c'mere," he smiled, gesturing you over with a wave of his hand, "what movie should we watch?"

you couldn't help but smile, almost forgetting all the prominent red flags that he had. he was the worst.

or maybe he wasn't as bad as you thought. maybe it was just you.

he was good for you. he kept you on your feet, kept you grounded.

"baby." he said, his voice breaking you out of your thoughts, "come here,"

matt smiled as he patted the empty spot next to him, and you wasted no time in getting on the bed and situating yourself beside him.

his hand grazes your thigh as he reaches over you for the remote, turning the TV on before scrolling through endless amounts of movies.

"superhero movie?" he asked quietly, looking over at you as you shook your head.

"wow, surprising." he joked, clicking through some more movies that didn't catch either of your eyes.

matt ditched the remote on what used to be his nightstand before he rolled over to face you.

his eyes were still that deep blue that you loved, and the smirk on his face didn't help as you tried to look away.

"i missed you," matt muttered, his voice soft as his fingers danced along the skin of your arm.

your breath hitched as his hand found the hem of your shirt and went under it, that stupid smirk on his face making it impossible for you to deny him.

"matt, we can't--"

"shh," his lips were dangerously close to yours now, and you didn't even want to question how he got so close to you in just a few seconds.

"there's not a rule that we can't, and we both know you need this. just let me relieve your stress, yeah?"

what the fuck is matthew sturniolos secret.

his hand traveled further up your shirt until it landed on your breast, and you couldn't help the gasp that escapes your lips as he squeezed it.

with his free hand, he propped himself on top of you, knees on either side of your body as he leaned down to your lips.

you couldn't resist him, not now that he was corrupting all your senses. all you knew was him now.

"no, matt." you muttered against his lips, your hand gentle against his chest as you tried but failed to push him away.

you couldn't do this anymore. it was killing you. he didn't want anything more than just a fuck-buddy and you both knew that.

so why was it so hard to push him away?

"matt," you gasped as you felt his lips on your neck, his smell intoxicating as your eyes fluttered shut.

no, you wouldn't do this anymore.

"matt, get off." your gentleness was gone now as you pushed him with real strength, he didn't give a single fuck about you, really.

the boy didn't hesitate to stop, quickly climbing off you before plopping right back next to you on the bed.

"shit, i'm sorry, baby." he muttered, real worry in his voice.

you shook your head, sitting up as you covered you face with your hands.

"please, just leave. we can't do this anymore. seriously." you sighed, tears pricking in your eyes.

"but--" matt tried, but you cut him off just as he was about to start begging.

"get out, matt." your hands went back to your sides, but you didn't dare look at him.

he would only reel you back in.

the boy sighed, frowning as he collected his stuff slowly.

he stopped when he reached the doorway of your bedroom, turning back to look at you, and this time you looked back.

"i do love you, y/n." he said quietly before leaving, shutting the door gently.

your lips parted as you took in the words that had just left his mouth.

no, it was a lie. it always was.

it wasn't true, right?

this was just another red flag to add to the list. all the lies he'd say.

fuck, he drives you crazy.

. . .

[descendant-of-truth]

I've been wondering if I should make this post for a while, but I'm just gonna come out and say it: the Sonic movies are not pro-military just because Tom is a police officer. I'd argue that the movies are pretty anti-military, actually.

So, let's talk about Tom first, since he's kind of the elephant in the room with this discussion. Tom is the sheriff to a small town where he rarely has to deal with any real crimes; he usually deals with more trivial problems like people's cars breaking down, and we see him help a family of ducks cross the street.

He's an officer partly out of a sense of obligation (reportedly his family has held this position in some way for over 50 years), and partly because he wants to be in a position where he can protect people in serious situations. His goal at the start of the first movie is to start working in a bigger city where he can be more helpful.

I won't say that Tom isn't something of an idealized vision of a cop, and that in the wrong hands, he could easily be used as a form of military promotion. But I think Tom is like this for a different, more specific reason: to be used as a sharp contrast to literally every other government official we see.

Question: who exactly is the villain in the first Sonic movie? Robotnik, yes, but who is he? What does he represent?

Well, he's pretty much the face of the military.

Robotnik is under direct orders from the government to look into the power outage incident, and that turns into a mission to capture (and experiment on) Sonic - and regardless if Robotnik was authorized to use lethal force, he does so anyway.

And the thing is, all of the higher-ups know he's unhinged and dangerous, but he keeps his job because he gets results regardless of his methods. Heck, the first thing we see him do is lie to Tom about who he is and what he's there for so he can get inside his house to search it. Not exactly the most flattering portrayal of military investigations.

(He even gets punched by Tom after forcing his way into the house anyway)

Tom then proceeds to spend the rest of the movie on the run from the government, going out of his way to protect Sonic (who is quite literally an illegal alien) at the risk of his own livelihood. Clearly, adhering to his job description is not something the movie views as morally correct here.

Second question: who's the villain of the second movie? Still Robotnik, but he's not employed by the government anymore, so he can't really represent them anymore, right?

No, but considering Sonic's adopted family was actively manipulated by a government spy, who was meant to marry his new aunt in order to target him, and Sonic proceeds to get tased and thrown into a cage along with Tails by the other military personnel present at the fake wedding... I think it's safe to say that they are, once again, a central antagonistic force in this series.

(Yeah they do a funny where the spy turns out to have fallen in love for real, but I think we can all agree that was done for the sake of keeping a whimsical tone and not to endorse what was actually happening with the government there)

Which brings us to the third movie, which is still unreleased at the time of writing this. And one final question: how exactly do you think they're planning to write an adaptation of Sonic Adventure 2?

They've already set GUN up as the villains. That alone is central to Shadow's backstory, and the writers have clearly done their homework on Sonic lore. And even if they've somehow wildly missed the messaging of the franchise they've made two successful movies off of, the fact of the matter is that there is no adapting SA2 without anti-military sentiments. Like, they would have to work pretty hard and completely butcher both the game and their own movies up to this point for that to come out being pro-military.

This part's more in speculation territory, but here's a thought: what do you think Tom is going to do when he finds out what happened to Shadow?

Remember, Tom is an idealized small town sheriff who has this job out of obligation. He hasn't had to deal with the darker side of all this stuff until he started protecting Sonic, which - just as a reminder - has led to his house being searched, his car being cut in half, Sonic almost getting killed at least twice, his sister-in-law being manipulated, Sonic and Tails getting locked in cages... I'm probably even missing a few things.

Once everything that happened 50 years ago comes to light (especially if the theorists are right about Tom's family having been involved in it), I honestly wouldn't be surprised if he just. quit being a police officer. or got into activism. or both.

But even if we limit the analysis to just the two movies that are out right now, I struggle to see how "Tom shirks his duties to protect an alien child from being experimented on by the government" is in any way a pro-military sentiment.

In conclusion: basically every problem in the Sonic movies is the fault of the government in some way, so can we please stop talking about the series as if Tom is singlehandedly making them pro-military, now. Thanks

[prettypei]

plot: Disney movies…but you guys are the mc and love interest; fluff!

reader: fem! Reader, Black! Fem! In nanami’s part

characters: gojo (x elsa reader), yuji (x rapunzel reader), yuuta (x belle Reader), nanami (x tiana reader)

warnings: just me and my weird ass mind, mention of killings

(a/n): THIS IS HOW THE JJK FANDOM COPES WITH SHIBUYA. Some of these apply to the princess canon storyline, some of these do not 👍

✰GOJO

I kinda see a enemies to lovers with him tbh

like he would be so mad that he can’t make snow

and you would be mad that he has infinity so you can’t attack him

basically you n him met bc he was sent to your ice castle to attack you cuz you were causing arendelle a lot of problems… and the village was really mad at you so they called the higher ups to send gojo over

and gojo was shopping and everything in arendelle ☠️☠️ and he met a lotta children there so he asked them if they were close with you and they replied yeah so he told them what you’d done and the children were like “no!!, (name) would never do that :((“ and that made him guilty for slacking off so off he went!

he’s not too worried about you so he walked up the mountain, he didn’t wanna teleport cuz he just wanted to take the longest time possible (he’s mean that way)

Gojo also meets Olaf on the way and they have the STUPIDIEST CONVOS EVER.

anws he pulls up to see your castle and he’s like “woah who’s sweet crib danggg”

and then he breaks down the ice door with red

and then he screams “where the baddies at?”

you rush out to see a weird ass man holding Olaf in his hands

so you’re pretty sure this man has kidnapped Olaf

you shoot icicles at him, he dodges

and this continues for an hour or so, until you’re tired so you just ask him to leave

but then he’s like “teach me to make ice girl”

and you (try) to teach him, but you just wanted to make him look stupid and you just laugh at him

gojos heart skips a beat when you laugh…IS THIS A CRUSH??!!!!!! 🐺‼️‼️🤐🗣️🗣️

you guys sit down and talk a lil

and he learns that you were treated as a prodigy as a child and he’s like “girl…me too!!!!”

you two really connect…and then Gojo remembers why he’s here ☠️

he explains the whole “everlasting snow” thig and you feel super guilty

so he teleports with you… as he holds you in his hands bridal style 🤫

you both arrive and the snow has cleared due to “Gojo healing a broken heart 🥺🥺🥺” corny!!!! You two get married Happy Ending

✰YUJI

you guys would be sunshine x sunshine ☹️☹️

ITS SO ADORABLE

Anws y’all met when yuji was like bored after a mission and wandering around the forest where the mission happened

then he feels a HUGE amount of cursed energy behind some vines

he then goes through them to find you tower and he’s awestruck cuz the cursed energy is OVERFLOWING.

and basically he tries to run up the tower??? But he can’t he’s so stupid n silly

and you hear this goofy mf trying and you thought it was mother gothel so you let you hair down

and YOU KNOW WHAT HE DOES????

HE PUTS IT IN HIS MOUTH. AND HE LICKS IT.

you’re extremely grossed out…but eventually he finds out that “oh wait I have to climb the hair”

so then he goes up and he’s knocked out by a pan 😭

he wakes up to find himself tied in hair and he tries to punch though the hair or cut it but it’s too tight

you interrogate him and he explains that he just felt a lotta cursed energy and he thought it was a monster, he then asks if it was because of your stress or sth

you admit that you were under a lot of pressure due to mother gothel always locking you in

he sees a couple curses spawning from this and he points this out, saying that you could just leave if you wanted to

But you say that it’s your mom and he replies with “family wouldn’t control you like that”

man’s then you do the scene where he promises to take you to see the lights blah blah blah

and he acts the boat scene 🥺 ITS SO CUTE

it was at that moment when he realized he’d fallen for u

✰YUUTA

I think that yuuta is kinda like the beast cuz he’s got Rika right? And he’s actually just a nice lil guy BEHIND the monster

anyways when you stumbled upon his lil castle and oooo Rika was REAL mad

she literally k!lls everyone who gets close to “her prince���

which causes yuuta to isolate him from the world cuz he doesn’t want to hurt anyone anymore

but that just caused Rika to get stronger due to his depressive state

anws Rika kidnapped your dad cuz he plucked one of the roses in yuutas garden

and you are here to save him!!!!

you and yuuta communicate through Rika cuz she doesn’t want you “to fall for him”

and she only lets you stay cuz yuuta commanded her not to hurt you and she then tells yuuta about kidnapping your dad

so he asks you to stay to “heal his heart” and he’ll let your dad go

and you agree. For your dear ol pa

you”re exploring the palace and you see a garden with a rose in it and you try to touch it but oh looky here! Rika tries to kill you again for touching it!

you learn from the pots and pans that yuuta’s room is right across yours so you slip letters under his door day and night

and slowly he starts getting better and he passes notes with you as the days go by (Rika doesn’t know ofc. Or she’d be PISSED.)

BUT THEN YOUR DEAR OL PA BRINGS THE WHOLE VILLAGE WITH HIM TO KILL YUUTA 😡😡

and then Rika goes all ape shit and tries to kill everyone from the village

and then yuuta comes out of his room to stop her

and then he kisses you and Rika vanishes :3 yay

happily ever after

✰NANAMI

I like this ship actually

nanami’s abroad to exorcise cursed spirits and he meets YOU. At a restaurant as a waitress

and he doesn’t think of ya much at first but your charming smile and dimples… MAN HES WHIPPED. (I am too) 🤧🤧

and you’re really nice too cuz you are a really good cook and you wanna serve him some of your own recipes in secret (cuz your boss would flip)

and he THINKS ITS SO GOOD!!!!! He actually wants more but he’s a lil shy

anyways you two meet again…but this time nanami’s a frog. He wasn’t careful enough and got turned into one by a cursed technique

and he’s frantic, asking you to kiss him cuz he thought that he could just be kissed by a random person and turn back…and then you turn into a frog :)

he has to get kissed by a princess btw

and you two find mama odie and act out your lil love story as frogs <3 and you stay like that forever

jk, you turn back to human as he kisses you at midnight

and you get to have your own restaurant and he’s so supportive of you!!!!!

But you sometimes overwork yourself a little and he doesn’t want that (even though he sometimes does it too) so you two try to spend more of your time together and it works!

he actually quits the jujutsu world cuz of you. he doesn’t want to get hurt and to see you get sad 😭