#Send help there's only corn in here

[ericksensensen]

What's wrong dude Missing your boyfriend? 🤨

[mrpenguinpants]

Sakura, did they...set off your romance sensor?

—  "Oh, listen, this boy here…whenever he senses anything romantic…he goes beet red in the face!!" - Tasuku Tsubakino (Ch.66)

— Hayato Suo, Hajime Umemiya, Jo Togame

[Masterlist]

Wow, my windbreaker brain rot has shot me into a whole new timeline where I can sit down and write. Not gonna lie, not my favorite but it is what it is. I've beat my first fic for a fandom nerves.

Hajime Umemiya

When Umemiya had called a rooftop meeting, Sakura had been through them enough to know what to expect. Umemiya would either show up late or be completely off-topic until someone, mostly Hiragi, stepped in to direct the meeting to its actual purpose. Most of the time, the distractions would be on his plants or his giddy plans of having another barbeque with everyone. It used to be annoying, Sakura once believed the reason why Umemiya was so unserious was because he didn't care. But he knows better now than to take that carefree smile on the surface level. Deep down, Umemiya is a great leader who knows when it's time to get serious.

But this...

Sakura's cheeks are already turning pink.

This is a bit too much for him. He hasn't leveled up enough for this.

"The Three Sisters is a method of gardening that involves planting corn, beans, and squash together. The corn provides support for the beans and squash, the beans add nitrogen to the soil, and the squash's sprawling vines create shade and discourage pests too. It's really quite fascinating, don't you think so Ume?" you ask, lightly petting the leaves of his most recent tomato plant sprout. Your eyes downcasted as you thumb away bits of dirt that happened to be blown by the wind onto the greenery. Perhaps it's because you're one of the few people who entertain Umemiya's rapid obsession with his garden, even going out of your way to tell him facts to better his plot and compliment him on his efforts. Heck, Sakura has seen Umemiya crying because Nirei has told him that his saplings look bigger each time. While Sakura does not doubt that those feelings and expressions were genuine, the look Umemiya is giving you, a look you're not even seeing, feels different. Umemiya himself is different.

"Yeah..." Umemiya responds in a soft tone, his voice almost a whisper. Their usually talkative leader who won't shut up for half a second, who talks over people, is currently so distracted that it's kind of embarrassing watching him. He's been staring at you, eyes zeroing in on your fingers as they brush against the leaves, almost entranced by the sight. Sakura would give anything to leave right now, this second-hand embarrassment is too much. Luckily, Umemiya finally seems to register that you and he aren't alone despite the fact he was the one who called the meeting in the first place. His head perks up confused, hands on top of his knees, as he's greeted with varying expressions from his grade captains. Hiragi in particular looks like he's having both a stomach ache and the urge to slap the back of Umemiya's head. The urge is only partially restrained when you also look up, sending them all a little wave. Hiragi isn't going to slug Umemiya if you're there to see it, it's the pride of a man to not get beaten up in front of his crush.

"Oh shoot, you're all here already? Why didn't you say anything?" Umemiya whines, standing up while dusting his pants free of any lingering dirt. He extends a hand to you, not before rubbing his palm furiously on the back of his shirt, to help you up, "I'll see you later?"

"Mm, sure. Good luck with your new sprouts. Remember to remove the bottom leaves once the plants are over 3 feet tall. I'll be upset if they develop fungus issues," you pat Umemiya's cheek gently, ignoring the way that Umemiya completely melts openly at the gesture. You turn to nod at the rest of them, offering another wave goodbye, as you pass them to exit the rooftop. The resounding sound of the door closing finally sets them back on track.

"We did," Hiragi speaks up as soon the vibrations in the air fizzle out with an exasperated expression, referring back to Umemiya's first question, "You were too busy staring. We've been here for almost ten minutes, you idiot."

"Sorry, sorry, my bad," Umemiya laughs easily, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. Although he's been clearly called out, Umemiya doesn't seem the slightest bit ruffled. Sure, he looks a little bashful but Sakura doubts that he'll tone it back much to the embarrassment of any onlooker. Maybe one day, he'll be able to look that happy with his own feelings on display.

A sudden clap has Sakura jolting back to reality, Umemiya's loud voice returning back to something familiar, "Now then, come sit! I prepared some snacks for us all to share."

Everyone else seems used to Umemiya's behavior and they easily follow him, completely disregarding your and Umemiya's interactions as if they never happened. Sakura doesn't really get it but if everyone else is unbothered, it'd be seriously uncool if he said anything. He lets out a sigh, whatever. It's none of his business anyway.

"Sakura, why are you blushing?" Nirei, the bastard, pipes up behind him. Suo, the even worst bastard, laughs behind his hand like he's some rich Victorian lady.

"Huh, no I- I'm not." Sakura's cheeks went from pink to red, now that he's been caught. He looks away, avoiding eye contact, "S-Shut the hell up!"

Hayato Suo

"Mr. Customer, if you're dissatisfied with our menu, you're more than welcome to leave."

Sakura blinks, head jerking up as he crosses the threshold of Café Pothos. Initially, he assumed those words were directed at him even though it wouldn't make sense. He quite likes the menu despite only ordering the same thing each time. But no, when Sakura looks up it's to a rather unexpected sight. Suo sits at the bar counter, back ram-rod straight and his hands folded in his lap, with that ever-pleasant smile on his lips. Across from him stands a worker Sakura has never seen before. He always assumed that Kotoha was the only employee, but today seems to be full of surprises. A green apron with white ties, sleeves rolled up to the elbow, and hands fisted against the hips.

"The bakery across the street would love to hear your complaints, Mr. Customer."

---

There is something about the new worker and Suo that keeps Sakura glancing back at them after he's sat himself in a secluded corner. Perhaps it's because it's a new face he has yet to meet at a place he frequents so often. It's normal to be curious right? Or maybe it's Suo being here alone. He's never seen the man "out in the wild" before. They aren't even looking at him, Suo hadn't even looked up when he first opened the door although Sakura is sure that Suo is aware of him. He's creepy like that. The new worker, however, whips an annoyed glance at Suo before letting out an irritated huff, arms crossing over the green apron, and glaring down at Suo’s smiling face. A face that would remain ever-pleasant in any given situation.

Regardless...

"Is this your version of service? It must be hard on the customer," Suo chuckles, a slight tilt of his head that bounces his tassel earring. Suo's laugh, however, causes Sakura to feel a hint of surprise. It's not a laugh he expects the man to give, yet at the same time, it suits him.

"That's because you're a terrible customer and a pain in the ass." The worker sneers, leaning in so the two of them are face to face.

Suo seems to be difficult for anyone to handle.

"It's busy today," Kotoha says, appearing out of thin air and scaring Sakura half to death. A plate of steaming omurice slides in front of him because he really does only order one thing here. It's not a great conversation starter, but it's nice of her to break the odd tension that has settled over the cafe. Kotoha is also looking to the side, watching the scene of her co-worker and Suo bickering and arguing. Passive aggressive comments are being flown out, scathing remarks padded with polite voices, so much so that the two of you don't seem to register anyone else around. Completely wrapped up in your world of irritation versus amusement.

"What…are they even arguing about?" Sakura chances to ask, his eyes still glued to the curve of Suo's smile, red eye focused solely on you. His hand idly reaches for his spoon, scooping up a bit of rice and egg, yet it hovers in the air ideally. Suo has his head tilted and is leaning somewhat in the worker's space. His eyes don't stray, watching each shift in facial expression carefully to gauge whether his words are having their intended effect. He looks like he's having way too much fun.

"Oh, that." Kotoha giggles, placing her palm on the table. She too looks like she's having way too much fun, "They always go back and forth like that. It's like a game of cat and mouse with those two. They're both stubborn as hell so it's a constant power struggle between them. Although, I wonder what they're arguing about this time. They always bicker at each other when we change shifts."

Kotoha shakes her head, a fond smile on her face. She glances briefly at Sakura before her eyes drift back to the other two. She raises her hand, finally cutting the bubble between you and Suo.

"Hey, I'm back from break. Thanks for covering for me," she calls, waving her hand in the air. The frown that was permanently on your face melts away when you break eye contact with Suo, returning to a more neutral blank look. You only nod to Kotoha, flashing up a thumbs-up, and you move to head back to the kitchen. But not before sticking your tongue out at Suo over your shoulder as you disappear through the doorway. Sakura blinked surprised, he had somewhat expected a different reaction than something so...tame. His eyes drift to Suo and he can feel his cheeks heat up.

He doesn't think he's seen Suo look happier.

Jo Togame

"See, you peel off the seal on the cap. Remove the ring from the little plastic piece you use to push the marble. Then, with your thumb, press down, and poof, the marble drops and you can enjoy!" you grin as you move slowly for Sakura to see your hands with each instruction. The fizz of carbonation and the clink of the marble hitting the glass amplified louder in the abandoned auditorium. A few other shishitoren members are loitering, but only you and Sakura are sitting up on the edge of the stage. After the embarrassment of not knowing how to open the ramune Togame had given him, he sought you out to explain it to him. Sakura didn't think he could stomach it if he went back to Togame again for help. He follows your movement, his fingers removing the thin seal. Popping the ring off the marble pusher, and with his thumb, pushes on the marble. His thumb slips a few times, but you're patient as you coax him to try again. With his third attempt, he feels the marble give, the rewarding sound of bubbles popping.

"Thanks..." Sakura mumbles, a faint blush on his cheeks as you cheer your ramune's together as you take a swig.

"No problem," you say nonchalantly, leaning your weight back on your arms. With the bottle held in your hand, you watch Sakura, who is intently staring at the drink on his own. The silence between you isn't exactly uncomfortable, but you can sense the slight embarrassment oozing off him. "Soooo... how's it taste?"

He gives a soft hum before taking a small sip, the fizzy liquid leaving a tingling sensation on his tongue. It's not as sweet as he thought it’d be. It's rather subtle for a soda. He takes a longer sip this time, the fizz tickling his nose and bubbles popping against his lip. Looking at you sidelong, he can see you already staring at him excitedly. You weren't kidding when you said you were a big fan of this.

"It's sweet, I guess," his voice soft as he shrugs. A few strands of his white hair fell in front of his face. His eyes glance up at you as you stare at him intently, waiting for him to continue. He awkwardly bites the inside of his cheek. It still feels weird having people who actually want to hear his opinion, even if it's as small as a drink. "A bit strange… The flavor is nice, but the fizz is new."

He takes another sip, careful with the angle he tilts the bottle lest the marble block the opening. He doesn't really understand the appeal of the marble. It's a nuisance. The fizz was the best part of the soda, but the clinking made it impossible to drink it quietly. Besides, he holds the ramune bottle out, how the hell do you even get it out? Does he need to throw it against a wall to break the bottle? He doesn't want to get broken glass everywhere since someone could accidentally step on it.

"Is the marble irritating you?" you ask, laughing quietly under your breath to not set Sakura off into another tomato-faced explosion.

"No!" he answers with a quick hiss, cheeks flushing. He can feel you stare at him as a smirk dances across your lips. He can already envision the teasing you’re concocting to make him react. He gives another soft huff, refusing to look at you, as he fidgets with the bottle. He doesn't want to ask you to help again. He already feels like a helpless idiot. Instead of commenting, you swing yourself upwards, planting your hand on your knee. The other hand, wrapped around the bottle, moves to your lips as you down the rest of your drink. The fizz of bubbles pops in the air while Sakura looks at you bewildered. Weren't you supposed to drink carbonated drinks slowly or you'll stomach hurt? Did you become immune or something from drinking so many?

"Come on, let's go. I still haven't finished my ramune 101 class," you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, winking over your shoulder which sends Sakura into another pink mess, as you slide off the stage.

"W- What do you mean we’re not done?" he stammers quickly, flustered as he scrambles up to follow you. He feels a bit dizzy from going from a sitting position to standing too quickly. He grips the bottle in his hand and takes a few quick steps to catch up to you as you stride to the doors leading outside the auditorium. You laugh again when he rushes to catch up. His quick reaction time betrays his small stature. It's kinda cute.

"It means I'm gonna teach you how to get the damn marble out, genius" you tease, shoving his shoulder as you reach the doors. Opening them, the two of you were met with the cool outside air. It's refreshing after being indoors for so long and the auditorium has gotten you both hot and stuffy. Hence the initial ramune drinks. You quickly take his hand, ignoring the screams, as you drag Sakura to the side of the building. "Togame! Are you sleeping still?"

"Huh?" a tired voice answers groggily from the other side of the wall. Togame is sitting on the ground next to the wall with his back against the auditorium. He has his legs stretched out, his head leaning back on the wall, rubbing his eyes to clear the ever-constant droop in his eyes. He looks as if he is napping before being rudely interrupted, "I was..."

"Oops. Hehe, sorry," you chuckle, hands raised up in a mock surrender although you don't particularly look apologetic. To be fair, Togame doesn't look upset either. Only gives you and Sakura a sleepy smile and nods as he raises his arm high to stretch. His green eyes drifted to the bottles of ramune in your hands with a curious tilt of the chin. In response, you beam at him, rattling the marble inside the glass bottle before handing it to him. "Please, if you could."

Togame snorts as he takes the bottle. There's a hint of playfulness in his tired eyes as he shakes the bottle a few times, letting the marble inside thump against the glass. It's funny watching the marble rattle around. It reminds him of a little toy marble maze he had as a child. He flicks his gaze to look at Sakura, who stands off to the side stiffly. The poor kid looks ready to bolt at any second when given an opening. His own half-finished bottle lays limply in his hand, the marble reflecting off the sun's light.

"You know you just have to twist the cap in the opposite direction right?" he says, wrapping his fingers around the blue lid and twisting the cap off. Turning the bottle over, he catches the marble from the opening into the palm of his hand. He extends his hand, sliding the marble into your waiting ones. "I know you're strong enough to do that."

"Yeah, but my hands get cramps and it's impossible to move it!"

"I don't think that's how that works...But if it really is too hard, you can keep coming to me."

Sakura stands by, feeling out of place as you go back and forth with Togame. Yet, he doesn't feel like an intruder this time, merely an observer. He looks down at his own bottle, hands moving to twist the cap off while making sure he doesn't spill the drink.

It's easy. It pops right off with barely any effort. Sakura has quite literally seen you throw a man double your size over your shoulder.

The marble reflects his face messily, but there's a shine of red glinting off the surface.

[bellasweetwriting]

call it what you want { clark kent x f. reader }

masterlist

part one. part two.

plot: an incident forces clark kent to see you in a different light

request: Clark Kent x popular mean girl reader? Would love to see how they would react in school and others pov of them especially Lana maybe - anonymous

tags: mean girl!reader x goldenretriever!clark / just so much fluff you can melt / i love witty characters so a lot of witty dialogue, back and forth between clark and reader, sarcasm and just bad humor

a/n: i love receiving requests to write so keep them coming. also this one is kind of long because i love to write characters beginnings rather than already established relationships, so, enjoy !!

You were definitely not keeping your eyes on the road. You would never admit that though.

But when you crash your car, you beautiful, far from new, restored car you got with your own money, against the back of that red old ugly pick up truck, you can’t help but to get as angry as possible.

Naturally, you get out of the car tossing that red lipstick as it is nowhere to be seen, not letting the guy you just hit be able to tell it was your fault. Okay, what was the plan? You definitely had to remain firm on a posture. What posture could that be? It wasn’t your fault. He was the one backing up! That didn’t make any sense. Uhm… think think think.

You hear the door of the truck closing, your eyes opening widely.

“Did you just rear end me?” Clark Kent, from your class, you definitely sit behind him in biology. You’ve seen that amount of hair before, and yeah, his height matches the one of the guy that never let you see the whiteboard.

“No, you caused it!” You defended yourself, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “You should be more careful, you know? Stopping like that in the middle of the road. You didn’t give me enough time to react.”

“There’s a stop sign.” You looked at the red sign, smacking your lips together. “And your lipstick, by the way, is smudged. Probably because you crashed my car while applying it.”

“Well… Your car is fine, alright?” Clark raised his eyebrows. “Fine, you want me to pay for your little dent that you probably won’t fix? Alright. Just so, I probably fixed that other dent over there, you know? You should change that truck. It’s old and… dented. And the color… it’s not… it’s not it, you know? I didn’t see it while driving.”

“Didn’t you, huh?”

“No, I didn’t. It’s the same color as all the corn that is around us! I probably thought your truck was a pile of corn on the road. Yeah…” You bit your lower lip, knowing you were definitely not making any sense.

Clark stared at you before turning around, walking back to his truck.

“I’ll send you the bill,” he said.

You looked back at the dent of your car, noticing something that was even more terrifying than having to pay Clark Kent for a dent in his truck.

The crash had slashed the front tire and you needed to change it.

“Kent, wait!” You said, gaining the tall guy’s attention once again. Clark Kent turned back, staring at you with his icy blue eyes, clearly annoyed by you. Most people looked at you that way. “Could you help me out?” He raised his eyebrows. “I don’t know how to change a tire.”

And then he dared to laugh. He laughed! In your face. When he approached you, you hit him on the arm, that was as harsh as steel, and you held how it backfired for you, as it hurt like hell.

“Would you stop?” You asked him, watching him as he kept laughing. He approached the trunk of your car, opening it and getting first seat view to your mess. As his laughter seized, he looked at you in amazement. “It’s my second closet.”

“I’m afraid a rat is going to jump at me.”

“Only if rats fancy burnt Nirvana CDs,” you pointed out as he lifted the floor of the truck, and took out the spare tire and the replacements. “So you live around here? In the middle of nowhere?”

“Yeah, at the Kent farm,” he said, shutting the trunk closed before approaching the slashed tire. “What are you doing here? Don’t you live near the sheriff’s department?”

You frowned, crossing your arms. “How do you where I live?”

“I’ve been there before, y/n,” he said as he took off his jacket, placing it on top of the hood of the car. “School project? Eighth grade? You dropped lemonade on my pants and said I peed myself.”

“Ha! Classic,” you said, too loud, looking down at Clark with a smile. “I’m sorry. I was a mean kid.”

“Was?” He said, smiling.

You watched him as he changed your tire. He was wearing a white t shirt, his forearms and biceps visible to your eyes. They were the size of your head, practically. You looked down, noticing how the light of the sun helped you see through the fabric, the framed abs of Clark Kent visible to your eyes. Maybe you never noticed before, but Clark Kent grew up to be much more than a regular man. He was fairly attractive, even more so: hot.

“You should drive to a mechanic so you can get a new tire. Don’t you dare drive on this tire for a long time. You can get hurt. They are just for short distances,” he started explaining you. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“Which was?”

“What is this year’s Miss Sweet Corn doing in the middle of, well… a corn field?” He asked, looking up in your direction.

You smiled, lifting up your sunglasses and placing them on top of your head. “Well, if you must know,” you began, walking towards the center of the road you guys were in and pointing to the direction you were going to. “You see that windmill over there?”

He stood up, standing by your side, narrowing his eyes in order to see where you were pointing at.

“I see it.”

“Have you ever climbed it?” You asked, looking back at him with a smile.

He looked at you. “Have you?”

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Getting Clark Kent to climb that windmill had been a harder challenge than you had ever expected. You laughed when you saw that six-foot-four guy trying to keep himself from looking down and shitting himself. You laughed, helping him up by pulling his arm as soon as he reached the last step of the ladder, both of you falling on the platform.

You laughed, harder than ever, at the sight of that gigantic man falling down on his back, scared for his life.

“You’re insane!” He yelled, laughing even louder than you. “What on Earth are we even doing?”

You sat down, patting him on the side, making him sat down as well.

“See that?” You asked, even if you already knew the answer. “That’s the Metropolis skyline, Clark Kent. I come here when I try to remind myself that life is far more than waking up in the morning and going back to sleep at the end of the day. It’s about working for what’s to come, for tomorrow. That’s my tomorrow!” You point at the buildings you could see of the big city. “I’m going to play every bar, every club, every stage there is on the city. Everyone that’s anyone is going to hear me sing. I’m going to make a name of myself, some that doesn’t start with Mrs. nor comes with a crown and a satchel. That’s what I’m working for. I’m making my future.”

You turned, looking at Clark Kent staring at you at what you could only call fascination, and inquiry. You smiled, blushing by the way he kept looking at you, kept staring, as if you were something he was trying to decode, something he was trying to read but was in a different language. Your cheeks flushed red as you looked away, your eyes focused on the view that normally brings you peace, but not even that could keep your heart from racing.

“What?” You finally asked.

“I would’ve never guessed you had that in you,” he admitted. “I find it incredibly you’re so driven. I don’t know what I’m going to do in a week from now, let alone in the years to come. It’s admirable how you know exactly what you want.”

You looked at him, giving him a tiny smile. “Thank you, Clark Kent.”

He turned his eyes towards the skyline. “Why did you decide to share this with me?”

“Well, you change my tire… I change your world,” you joked, making him laugh.

“You’re funny.”

“You’re surprised,” you pointed out as well. “Am I that despicable?”

“I would say… unapproachable,” he described it, staring back at you. “My friends believe a Queen Bee like yourself has troubles coming down from the top of the hive to check on the rest of us mortals.”

“What did I ever do to give such impression?”

“Well, you can be…” He stopped himself, and you saw the search for a word in his eyes. “Direct.”

“Mean?”

“Honest,” he continued, smiling. “When honesty is best avoided to maintain good manners and good relationships.”

“So rude?”

“You’re putting words in my mouth.”

“You’re lacking the courage of putting them yourself.”

He clicked his tongue. “See, that’s what I mean. Direct.”

“Maybe more people should be like that.”

“Maybe,” he said. “Can I buy you a cup of coffee?”

You snorted, surprised by the invitation. “Where did that come from? I thought you hated me. Or at least the idea of me.”

“Yet, you keep me on my toes,” he said, softly. “Let’s do this: let me buy you a cup of coffee and I’ll forgive you for rear-ending my truck.”

“It’s that what it is, huh?”

“It is what it is,” he joked, making you laugh. He was funny, and charming, and handsome. You needed someone funny, charming and handsome in your life.

“That easy, huh? I get a coffee and free of charge. I think that’s a win for me.”

“You’re right, you’re right,” he murmured, placing a strand of your hair behind your ear. It came natural to him, as if he had done it a million times before, even if it was the first time he had ever touched you, the first time he was ever this close. Everything just seemed natural, easy. “What I want in exchange… it’s you telling me more about that future of yours.” You smiled. “And, goes without saying, letting me hear you sing.”

“Is that what you want?” He nodded. “Okay…”

“Okay?”

You smiled. “Okay.”

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“I don’t know about this, Kent,” you said as he parked his truck in front of the school entrance.

Whatever it was that was going on between you and Clark had being going on in secret for more than two weeks. A couple of stolen kisses, several cups of coffee, and the promise of a sweet serenade still being held over your head, and you guys had come in quick pace from acquaintances to friends to definitely more than friends. And now, he wanted to make whatever was going between the two of you public.

“What? I want to tell people I’m dating Miss Sweet Corn,” he mocked your irrelevant title, turning off the engine of his truck. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

“My popularity crashes so far down the Earth it reaches its nucleus and dies?” You joked, making him raise his eyebrows. “Your friends hate me and I cry?”

“They won’t hate you… a lot.” You rolled your eyes at his bad joke, trying to hold back a smile. “Come on. I’ll be there, I’ll defend you. I’ll show them you’re a lot more than a mean face and a skirt.”

“You’re saying I have a mean face?”

“Yeah, let me kiss it,” he said, planting his kisses all over your cheeks and face, as loud as he could, tickling you and making you laugh.

Inside the school, Chloe Sullivan was putting down his books when Lana Lang interrupted the solitude she was in. Lana was nervous, jumpy, unable to stay still, and she knew Chloe could help her.

“What’s up?” Chloe asked her best friend, holding back her laughter. “You seem… tense.”

“I haven’t seen Clark much these past few weeks, have you?”

“I see him at the Torch and in class, not more than usual, but not less,” she pointed out. “Are you okay?”

“He hasn’t been at the Talon as well. I think he’s hiding something,” she said, placing her hair behind her ears. “I know things haven’t been great between us ever since we decided to be nothing more than friends, but he has never pulled a disappearing act before. Has he said anything to you?”

“Nothing strange enough to alarm concern. In fact, I think he’s happier than usual.” Chloe looked behind Lana, her smile turning upside down. “I think I now know why.”

Lana turned around, noticing it as well.

Clark Kent walked in holding hands with you. You looked incredibly beautiful, maybe because it was the first time anyone had ever seen you with a true smile on your face. Your hair was straight, shiny, longer than common. Your eye makeup highlighted your eyes, making them bigger and sweeter. And your signature red lipstick not only was on your lips, but had left a trace on the neck of Smallville High’s most elegible bachelor.

“Looks like farm boy found himself a cheerleader,” Chloe scoffed behind Lana, which only made the brunette even more jealous than she already was.

“Hey guys,” Clark finally said as you reached them, placing his arm over your shoulders. “You know y/n?”

“We’re familiar,” Chloe said, extending her hand in your direction. “Hi, I’m Chloe, you egged my house on Halloween.”

You smiled, shaking her hand. “Hi Chloe. I’m sorry about that. I was not the most well-behaved kid.”

“Last Halloween,” she highlighted, making you look at Clark, who was holding back a laugh.

“Sorry again,” you whispered.

“Hi Y/N,” Lana said, a sound of disgust coming from her mouth. You stared at her, handing her a tiny smile. “How’s the cheerleading squad?”

“Good, we’re going to regionals. We really miss you on the team, Lana,” you said, handing her a tiny smile. You’ve never felt as uncomfortable as you felt now.

Clark clicked his tongue. “That’s awesome, right? Guys?”

Chloe nodded. “So awesome. I’m a big fan of deadly turns up in the air. So, not to force the elephant in the room to talk but how long have this been going on and why didn’t we know anything about it?” Lana turned to look at Chloe. “Seems like a valid question.”

You and Clark immediately looked at one another, sharing a small laugh when you did.

“Uhm… Two weeks ago? Yeah?” Clark said, looking back at Chloe. “She rear-ended my truck.”

“He stopped abruptly.”

“There was a stop sign.”

“It was his fault.”

“No, it wasn’t.”

“Typical Y/n, always blaming someone else for her mistakes,” Lana interrupted, surprising everyone.

You stared at the girl, letting out an awkward chuckle just to release the tension that had built up.

“You know what? I have to go, I have Mr. Turner, and you guys know how he is about tardiness,” you excused yourself, turning to look at Clark with a smile. “I’ll see you later?” You whispered to him, telling him with your eyes how much you wanted to leave.

He nodded, understanding. “Okay,” he whispered just to you, kissing your lips quickly, just a tiny peck, as if you had done it a million times before and it was usual between the two of you. “Save me a seat at lunch.”

You nodded before walking away.

Clark turned to look at Lana and Chloe, giving both girls a smile that shared more distaste than happiness.

“Well, she’s very pretty, lad. You got yourself a charming new gal,” Chloe mocked in a southern accent, trying to ease the tension.

“Good thing my gals were so nice,” he said, alternating his eyes from one to the other. “I really like her. Really. And since I tend to not ask things from you, I’d really like if you guys to do me this favor and be nice to her.”

“Like she’s been nice to us?” Lana argued, raising her eyebrows. “She’s a menace. A pompom girl. Pirouettes in the air, high kicks on your face, or whatever you want to call it. I thought you hated girls like that.”

“Weren’t you a cheerleader?” Chloe asked Lana, making the girl look at her. “Not helping. Sorry.”

“She’s more than that,” Clark said. “And if happened to get to know her, you’d agree with me.”

“I know her fine, thanks,” Lana said.

“Not like I know her,” Clark argued.

Chloe scoffed. “I don’t want to know her that well, thank you!” Clark raised his eyebrows. “Just saying.”

“Just… Give her a chance?” Chloe nodded, giving up. Yet Lana remained still. “I’ll see you guys around.”

And with that, Clark walked away, leaving the two girls alone once more. Lana turned to look at Chloe, her eyebrows raised.

“Are we going to let Miss Sweet Corn swoop into our lives that easily? I believe there’s something weird going on. Wall of weird weird.”

“I don’t know,” Chloe said. “I know Wall of Weird, trust me. But I also know Clark.” The blonde grabbed her books, holding them against her chest. “I think he really likes her.”

[pedriache]

Héctor Fort who can’t help but look down at reader over everything and anything bc he knows how it makes them flush and avert their gaze

Those eyes — Héctor Fort.

Pairing: Héctor Fort x Fem!Reader

Summary: Héctor, who loves to see the familiar rosy color blossom across your cheeks. He does everything to see it, but he finds the easiest way to do so, is by looking down at you with a grin on his face.

Word count: 390+

Disclaimer/s: None, just fluff!

A/N: another draft from the summer . . .

Walks with you boyfriend was always enjoyable. You liked to sight see, and he loved to just spend time with you. The summer breeze brushed against your face as you leaned over the railing to look at the view. The city spread out below you, the building lights twinkling beneath the slowly darkening sky.

“I love this city.” You say quietly, turning to glance up at your boyfriend. A small flush passes across your cheeks as you realize he was already looking down at you. “What are you doing?”

“What do you mean?” Héctor asks, suppressing the smirk that threatened his lips. His eyes trail across your face, tracing your features he seemed to love so much. He knew how much it affected you when he did that, which only prompted him to do it more.

His attentive stare only has you growing more flustered. “Quit staring down at me! Look at the view, that is why we walked all the way here is it not?”

Héctor simply shrugs, not looking away. “I’d rather look at you.” This elicits a groan from you along with an eye roll. “What’s that for!?”

“You are such a corn ball.” You laugh, shooing him away with a dismissive hand.

The brunette trails his hand up from the small of your back to your shoulders, sending goosebumps everywhere his hand touched, eventually his arm loops around your shoulders and pulls you into his side.

Héctor uses his other hand to hook his finger under your chin, forcing your head to look back up at him. Your heart stammers in your chest as you meet your boyfriend’s eyes. “I love you.” He whispers, dipping down to hover above your lips.

A wide smile breaks out on your face. “I love you, too.” You whisper right back, standing on your tip toes to place a quick peck to his lips.

When you pull away, Héctor makes a sound of protest, his lips chasing after yours, though you wiggle out of his grasp and take a step back. “Nuh-uh! We are sight seeing!”

“In a city we’ve lived in for years! We’ve seen this view a million times!” Héctor frowns, though his eyes sparkle with something you couldn’t quite place.

“Boo-hoo. Now, look at the view.” You point to the city scapes, flashing him a teasing smile.

Likes , comments , and reblog’s are all appreciated. Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in any of my posts <3

DTS , @halfwayhearted @spidybaby !

[thedilfdiaries]

Watermelon Sugar

Dbf/neighbor/daddy!Joel Miller x f!reader

Masterlist

Wordcount: 6,522

Summary: At the annual neighborhood barbecue, you can't ignore the sparks flying between you and Joel Miller, your dad's best friend. What starts as playful flirting leads to a secret, steamy encounter that leaves you both wanting more.

Warnings: 18+, age gap, unprotected p in v, m! oral recieving, soft but dom daddy!Joel, Joel calls reader baby and sunflower, use of daddy, light choking, hair pulling, and spanking. And a lil aftercare. Reader has hair and wears a bikini.

Notes: I've been slow over here and a little inactive due to adulting ughhh, but thank you all for your love and support 🥰 I truly appreciate all of you! tysm @joelslegalwhre & @evolnoomym beta reading for me. Smooching you both forever. Divider by @saradika-graphics

You stand in front of your mirror, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. The annual neighborhood barbecue is a tradition you've always looked forward to, but this year, it feels different. Ever since you can remember, Joel Miller has been a fixture in your life—a man who could make you laugh with a single look and who always seemed to know when you needed a friend. But lately, the glances you exchange feel charged with something new, something you're not quite ready to name.

As you dab on a bit of perfume, you catch your dad's voice in the hallway, calling out that he's heading over to Joel's early to help set up.

“Be there soon!” You yell back.

—

As you step out of your front door, the warm summer breeze brushes against your skin, carrying with it the mouth-watering aroma of grilled meat and freshly cooked burgers from the neighborhood barbecue, hosted by none other than Joel Miller - your dad's best friend and neighbor, the one youve had a crush on forever. You can't help but feel a flutter in your stomach as you walk towards his house, knowing that he will be there waiting for you.

Your heart races as you approach the familiar scene; tables filled with food and drinks, kids running around playing games, and adults chatting animatedly under the shade of trees. You spot Joel standing near the grill, his broad shoulders moving up and down as he expertly flips burgers on the sizzling hot coals. His tanned skin glistens with sweat from all his hard work preparing for today's event.

"Hey there!" Your dad calls out when he sees you approaching. "Just in time! We were just about to start eating."

You take a moment to admire Joel's form; how strong yet gentle he looks handling those flaming hot coals like they were nothing more than pebbles in a stream; how those little black shorts sit on his body just right, how that white baggy shirt hangs over his big broad shoulders hugging his thick neck just right. Damn it. Why does he have to look so good?

As you draw closer, the heat from the grill is almost as intense as the warmth that spreads through you at the sight of Joel. His head looks up for a moment as he sees you approach, a wide grin spreading across his face.

You take a plate from the stack and start to serve yourself, trying to keep your hands from shaking. The array of food is impressive: potato salad, corn on the cob, fresh fruit, and an assortment of desserts that would make any food lover weak in the knees. But your focus is on the grill, where Joel is now plating a burger that looks like a work of art.

"Here ya go, sunflower," he says. The nickname, worn in like a favorite pair of jeans from years of use, still makes you feel like you’re the only person in the world. "I added a secret sauce.” He whispers, his voice low and conspiratorial. “Tell me if it's as good as I think it is.” He winks, his eyes sparkling with anticipation, and you can't help but feel a flutter in your chest.

As you take the burger from Joel, your fingers touch briefly, sending a jolt of electricity through your body. You try to brush it off as static, but deep down, you know it's more than that. You take a bite of the burger, and the flavors explode on your tongue. The sauce is tangy and sweet, perfectly complementing the grilled meat's smoky flavor.

"Mmm," you moan, closing your eyes in appreciation. "This is incredible."

Joel's eyes light up with pride. "M’glad you like it." His eyes follow every movement of your lips, every chew, every swallow. It's as if he's savoring every moment of this interaction.

You try to ignore the flutter in your chest, telling yourself it's just appreciation for a good meal. But deep down, you know it's more than that. Joel has always been kind to you, always looked out for you, but now, as your eyes lock in a silent understanding, you sense something different. Something forbidden.

"So, you really like the sauce?" he inquires, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he wipes his brow with the back of his hand. The gruffness in his voice sends a shiver down your spine despite the summer heat.

You nod eagerly, your taste buds still dancing from the burst of flavors. "Mhmmm! What’s in it?”

Joel chuckles. "That's top-secret information, darlin', Ain't gettin’ it outta me that easy."

With a mischievous glint in your eye, you walk behind the grill and up to Joel. “How about we make a deal? You give me the secret sauce recipe, and I'll show you something I know you wanna see.”

"Alright, you've got my attention."

Slowly, with deliberate grace, you begin to lift your shirt just enough for him to catch sight of the vibrant pattern of your bikini top beneath—your fingers deftly move towards one side strap of this bikini top; teasingly pulling at it as if contemplating revealing even more than intended

"Fuck - " he breathes out, quickly shaking his head to compose himself before grabbing your arm to stop you. "Your dad's right there, the hell you doin'?”

With a mischievous wink, you let the strap snap back into place, leaving just enough to his imagination. "Maybe later then," you tease “If you wanna see the rest come find me Mr. Miller.”

Joel watches you step back and saunter away towards the pool, your words hanging in the air like a challenge. The playful sway of your hips is hypnotic, and he can't help but stare as you make your way over to the pool. He shakes his head, trying to clear the fog of desire that's clouding his judgment. "Christ," he mutters under his breath, turning his attention back to the grill, but the sizzle of the meat does little to drown out the sound of your laughter carried in the breeze.

He glances over at you, watching as you settle by the pool, your legs dangling in the water. You're a vision, your hair catching the sunlight, your smile bright and inviting. He tries to focus on the task at hand, serving people, and making small talk, but his eyes keep drifting back to you. He can't help it; you're like a magnet, drawing him in against his better judgment.

He watches as you reach for a slice of watermelon on your plate, its vibrant red color promising a burst of sweetness. The juicy fruit is cool and refreshing in the summer heat. As you take a bite, the watermelon's juice is so abundant that it escapes your lips, trickling down your chin.

In an attempt to catch the runaway droplets, you quickly bring your hand up to your face. But in your haste, another stream of juice breaks free, trailing a path down your neck and disappearing into the valley between your breasts. The sensation of the cool liquid against your heated skin makes you gasp softly, making Joel groan under his breath. He watches you with an intensity that borders on feral. His grip tightens around the spatula he's holding as he takes in the sight of you, flustered and trying to contain the watermelon's sweet rebellion. His mind races with images he knows he shouldn't entertain—images of him licking away those sticky trails left by nature's candy on your skin; his hands following suit to ensure not a single drop is wasted; his lips tasting every inch they cover until there's no trace of watermelon left.

His body reacts before he can stop it—a sudden twitch in his pants that thankfully goes unnoticed by everyone else due to his strategically placed apron tied securely around his waist. He takes a deep breath to regain control over his runaway thoughts while simultaneously adjusting himself discreetly under the cover of fabric.

Taking the opportunity to step away from the grill, Joel grabs a cold Corona from the cooler, the bottle sweating as much as he is. He approaches you but stops for a split second to watch you. The sight of you lying there, your body still glistening with juices, makes his heart race.

"Thought ya might be thirsty," he says, handing you the beer, his voice deeper than usual.

You look up as he approaches, your eyes sparkling with mischief. "Took you long enough," you say, a teasing lilt in your voice as you take the beer and sip it.

He sits down beside you, his heart pounding in his chest. "You're playin’ with fire, y’know that sweetheart?" he warns.

You just smirk, leaning back in your chair, your gaze locked onto his like a little puppy.

"You keep lookin' at me like that, and we're gonna have a problem," Joel says, his voice a low rumble.

"What if I want a problem?"

His intake of breath is sharp, and you can see the effect your words have on him. His jaw clenches, and there's a flicker of something dangerous in his eyes—something that tells you he's teetering on the edge of control. You watch as Joel quickly gets up from his chair and walks away. He rounds the corner of the house before disappearing.

You wait for a moment before you put your beer down beside the one he left and casually stand up to follow him.

Around the side of the house, away from prying eyes, Joel is leaning against the wall, his chest rising and falling with each heavy breath. The moment he sees you, his eyes darken.

"What are we doin' here?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

You close the distance between you, your body brushing against his. "Something we both want," you reply confidently, your hand coming up to rest on his chest.

He captures your wrist, his grip firm but gentle. "This is wrong," he murmurs, though the conviction in his voice is wavering.

"Does it feel wrong?" You challenge, your fingers tracing the contours of his muscles through his shirt.

For a moment, he doesn't respond, his gaze dropping to your lips. Then, with a groan of surrender, he closes the gap between you, his mouth crashing onto yours in a hungry, desperate kiss. His hands roam your body, exploring every curve as if he's memorizing you by touch. You respond with equal fervor, your hands tangling in his hair as you pull him closer, deepening the kiss. The taste of him, a mix of beer and the sweet tang of barbeque sauce, drives you wild.

Suddenly, Joel breaks the kiss, his breath coming out in ragged gasps. "We can't do this here," he says, glancing around to make sure no one has followed you.

You nod, your breath hitching as you realize the gravity of what you're about to do. "Then take me somewhere we can," you whisper back, your hand slipping into his.

With a groan that sounds almost pained, Joel takes a step back, pulling you with him as he leads you away from the party and towards the detached garage at the end of the driveway. His grip on your hand is firm, almost possessive, sending a thrill of anticipation coursing through your veins.

The inside of the garage is cool and dimly lit compared to the bright sunlight outside. It's filled with tools and gardening equipment—a testimony to Joel's many hobbies. The door lightly closes shut behind you, sealing out the world and the sounds of the party. The air is thick with the scent of oil and wood, a heady mixture that only adds to the intoxicating atmosphere. Joel wastes no time, pressing you against the cool metal of a parked truck, his body a solid wall of heat against yours.

"You've been drivin’ me crazy all day," he growls, his hands gripping your hips tightly. "Teasin’ me like that in front of everyone."

You can feel the evidence of his arousal pressing against you, and it sends a shiver of excitement down your spine.

His lips crash onto yours once again, demanding and dominant. His tongue sweeps into your mouth, claiming you with an intensity that leaves you breathless. You can feel his stubble rough against your skin.

"You're playin’ a dangerous game, baby," he murmurs against your mouth.

He spins you around roughly, pressing your chest against the truck's hood. You can feel the cool metal against your overheated skin. His hands tangle in your hair, giving it a gentle tug that sends a jolt of pleasure and pain straight to your core.

"Tell me whatcha want," he commands, his voice a low rumble in your ear.

"You," you gasp, arching your back to press closer to him. "I want you, Joel."

He rewards you with a slow grind of his hips against yours, the friction making you moan. "You want me to fuck ya, sunflower?" he asks, his voice thick with desire.

"Yes," you whimper, your hands gripping the edge of the hood for support. "Please, Joel."

He chuckles darkly, his lips tracing a path down the side of your neck. "Beggin’ already? I thought you liked playin’ hard to get." You feel his teeth nip at your skin as he speaks. Your body trembles with need, your breathing coming out in short bursts. You don't understand why this feels so right, but you don't question it anymore. "Stay still," he orders, his voice firm.

You force yourself to comply, your body trembling with anticipation. He takes his time, his fingers tracing maddeningly slow patterns on your skin. When he finally reaches beneath the fabric of your bikini top to palm your breast, you can't help but let out a moan of relief.

"That's it," he encourages, his thumb circling your nipple. "Let me hear how much you want this."

His other hand slides down your body, slipping beneath the waistband of your shorts. You're already so wet for him, and when his fingers brush against your clit, you can't help but buck your hips.

"Fuck, you're so responsive," he groans, his fingers circling the sensitive bundle of nerves. You're panting now, desperate for release. But he denies you, pulling his hand away just as you're about to tip over the edge. "Not yet," he says, his voice stern. "You don't come till I tell ya to."

He spins you around once again, his eyes dark with lust as he takes in the sight of you. "I wanna see you baby," he says, his hands tugging at your shorts. "All of you."

You help him undress you, your hands shaking with need. Once you're standing before him in nothing but your bikini, he takes a step back to admire his handiwork.

"Goddamn, you're beautiful," he says, his voice filled with awe. "Now, get on your knees."

You do as he says, the concrete floor cool against your skin. You hear the zip of his pants and then them falling to the ground along with his boxers as he steps forward, his hands fisting in your hair guiding you to his cock. "Open up," he commands, his voice gruff. "Show me how much you want this."

You part your lips obediently, taking him into your mouth. He's big and hard, and the taste of him is intoxicating. You swirl your tongue around the head of his cock, eliciting a groan from above and then take him entirely until he's hitting the back of your throat.

"That's it, sunflower," he praises, his hips thrusting gently. "Just like that."

You look up at him, your eyes locking onto his as you take him deeper. His grip on your hair tightens, and you can tell he's struggling to last. "Fuck, you look so good with my cock in your mouth," he says, his voice strained.

Your hands grip his thighs, feeling the muscles tense under your touch as you bob your head, taking him deeper with each stroke. The salty taste of his arousal mixes with the lingering sweetness of the watermelon, creating a heady combination that has you moaning around his length.

"Feels so damn good baby," Joel groans, his voice echoing in the quiet garage. His eyes are locked on yours, filled with a raw, unfiltered desire that sends a thrill through you. You feel his thighs quiver under your hands, and you know he's close. But before he can reach his peak, he gently pulls you away, his cock slipping from your lips with a wet pop.

"Up," he commands as he pulls you to your feet, his hands roaming your body once again. He unties your bikini top, letting it fall to the ground, and then he's cupping your breasts, his thumbs teasing your nipples. "Tell me you want this," he says, his eyes searching yours. "Tell me you want me to fuck you baby."

"I want it," you assure him, your voice trembling with need. "I want you to fuck me, Joel."

With a growl, he lifts you onto the hood of the truck and with a hunger in his eyes that matches your own, Joel hooks his fingers into the sides of your bikini bottoms, his gaze never leaving yours as he slowly begins to peel them away. The fabric slides down your legs, leaving you completely exposed to him. He tosses the bikini bottoms aside, his hands returning to grip your thighs, spreading them apart as he steps closer.

"You're so fuckin' wet for me," he murmurs approvingly, his fingers tracing the seam of your cunt. You can feel yourself growing warm at his words, but you don't have time to feel self-conscious because he's leaning in, capturing your lips in another searing kiss as his fingers continue their exploration.

One finger circles your entrance before pushing inside, making you gasp into the kiss. He adds another finger, stretching you deliciously as he establishes a rhythm that has you writhing on the hood of the truck. His thumb finds your clit again, rubbing it in time with his thrusting fingers.

"Joel," you moan, your hands fisting in his shirt as pleasure builds within you. "Please..."

He chuckles against your mouth, clearly enjoying the effect he has on you. "Please, what?" he teases, even as he adds another finger, filling you even more. "Tell me what you need."

"I need... I need you inside me," you pant out, barely able to form coherent thoughts with the way he's playing your body like a finely tuned instrument.

Joel's eyes darken at your words, and he withdraws his fingers, leaving you feeling empty and needy.

You ready for me, sunflower?" he asks, positioning himself at your entrance.

You nod eagerly, your body aching for him. "Yes, please."

With a groan, he pushes forward, filling you in one slow, deliberate thrust. The sensation of being stretched and filled by him is overwhelming, and you can't help but cry out at the intensity of it. He stills for a moment, allowing you to adjust to his size.

"Fuck," he groans. "You feel even better than I imagined."

As the initial shock of your union subsides, Joel begins to move, his hips setting a rhythm that sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body. Each thrust is a sweet invasion, a claim that leaves you breathless and begging for more.

"Look at me," Joel commands, his voice gruff with need. You lock eyes with him, the intensity of his gaze searing into your soul. "Who do you belong to?" he asks, his pace increasing with each word.

The question hangs in the air between you, heavy with implication. You know the answer he wants, the answer that feels right in this moment. "You," you gasp out, your voice barely above a whisper. "I belong to you, Daddy."

A shudder runs through Joel at the sound of the word Daddy falling from your lips. "That's right," he growls, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he drives into you with renewed vigor. "You're mine, sunflower. Say it again."

"I'm yours, Daddy," you moan louder this time, surrendering yourself to him completely.

The words, once taboo, now feel like a secret language between the two of you. With each thrust, Joel reaffirms his claim on you, his movements becoming more frenzied as he chases his release.

"Harder," you beg, your nails digging into the flesh of his back. "I need more."

He responds with a growl, increasing the intensity of his thrusts. The sound of skin meeting skin echoes in the garage, mingling with your cries of pleasure and his grunts of exertion. "Is this what ya need?" he pants, his hips snapping against yours with bruising force.

"Yes," you cry out, your body coiling tighter and tighter with each powerful thrust. "More... I need all of you."

In response to your plea, Joel reaches up and wraps his hand around your throat, applying just enough pressure to make your heart race and your head spin. The sensation of being restrained by him sends a jolt of adrenaline coursing through your veins. It's a thrilling mix of fear and excitement that heightens the pleasure coursing through your body.

"You like that baby?" he rasps out, his eyes searching yours for confirmation even as he continues to pound into you relentlessly. "You like it when Daddy chokes you while he fucks your pretty little cunt?"

You nod as much as his grip will allow, your breath coming in short gasps as stars dance behind your closed eyelids. "Yes," you manage to choke out.

The world around you seems to blur into a haze of pleasure and desire as Joel continues to claim your body with an almost feral intensity. His grip on your throat remains firm, yet gentle enough not to cause harm, serving as a potent reminder of his control over you. The sensation of his fingers wrapped around your neck only adds to the overwhelming tide of ecstasy that's building within you.

"Come on, sunflower, come for me." Joel grunts, his voice strained with the effort of holding back his own release. "Wanna feel this pretty little pussy squeezin’ Daddy's cock.”

His words are the final push you need. With a cry that echoes off the walls of the garage, your orgasm crashes over you like a wave, causing your entire body to convulse with the force of it. Your inner muscles clamp down around Joel's shaft, milking him as he continues to drive into you with powerful thrusts.

As the waves of your orgasm begin to subside, Joel isn't done with you yet. He pulls out, leaving you feeling momentarily empty, but before you can protest, he's flipping you over onto your stomach with a strength that leaves you breathless. Your body is still trembling from the aftershocks of your climax as he roughly pulls you up, positioning himself behind you.

"You think we're done?" he growls, his voice thick with lust. "I ain't even close to being finished with this sexy body of yours."

His hands grip your hips tightly as he lines himself up with your entrance once again. With one powerful thrust, he's inside you, filling you completely and causing you to cry out in a mix of pleasure and surprise. The new angle allows him to go even deeper than before, hitting spots that make your toes curl and your breath hitch in your throat.

"Fuck," he groans, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips as he sets a brutal pace that has the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing around the garage. "You feel so fuckin' good like this."

One hand releases its grip on your hip and tangles in your hair instead, pulling it just hard enough to tilt your head back and expose the long line of your neck. His lips find the sensitive spot where your neck meets your shoulder, kissing and nipping at it as he continues to pound into you from behind.

"Such a good girl," he praises between thrusts, his voice a low rumble against your skin. "Takin’ Daddy's cock so well.”

His other hand comes down on the curve of your ass with a sharp smack that makes you gasp and push back against him for more. The sting of the slap only adds to the overwhelming sensation of fullness as he drives into you again and again. Each smack is followed by a soothing caress that sends shivers down your spine and makes a heat pool low in your belly once more.

"You like it when I spank this naughty little ass?" Joel asks wickedly as his hand comes down on the other cheek, this time eliciting another moan from deep within you. "Answer me, baby girl."

"Yes," you manage to gasp out between thrusts, your body shaking under his relentless assault . "I love it when you spank me, Daddy.”

The sound of your admission seems to spur Joel on even more. His thrusts become wilder, more uncontrolled, as he chases his own release. The hand in your hair tightens, pulling your head back further, forcing you to arch your back and take him even deeper. The sensation is overwhelming, and you can feel another orgasm building within you, a tidal wave of pleasure that threatens to sweep you away.

"That's it, baby girl," Joel growls, his voice ragged with desire. "Come for me one more time."

His words are all it takes to send you tumbling over the edge once more. Your body convulses beneath him, your inner walls clamping down around his shaft as wave after wave of pleasure courses through you.

Joel lets out a guttural groan as he feels your orgasm milk his own from him. His hips stutter against yours as he buries himself deep inside you, his cock pulsing as he finds his release. You can feel the warmth of his seed filling you, marking you his in the most primal way possible.

For a moment, the only sounds in the garage are the ragged gasps of your breathing and the pounding of your hearts. Slowly, Joel releases his grip on your hair and hip, his hands gently caressing the skin he'd so roughly manhandled just moments before.

"You okay, sunflower?" he asks, his voice soft and filled with concern as he carefully withdraws from your body.

You nod, still trying to catch your breath. "Yeah," you manage to say, your voice shaky but filled with a satisfaction that you've never felt before. "I'm good. More than good."

Joel chuckles softly, pressing a tender kiss to the nape of your neck. "You're more than good, baby girl. You're incredible."

He helps you to your feet, his arms wrapping around you to steady you when your legs threaten to give out beneath you. His eyes scan your body, taking in the marks he's left on your skin—the redness where his fingers had gripped you, the faint handprint on your ass, the love bites that dot your neck and shoulders.

"Let's get ya cleaned up," he says, his tone gentle as he leads you over to an old sink in the corner of the garage. He turns on the water, testing the temperature with his hand before wetting a clean rag and using it to gently wipe away the evidence of what just happend.

You watch him, your heart swelling with emotion as you take in the tenderness of his actions. This is a side of Joel you've never seen before—a side that's caring and attentive, a side that makes you feel cherished and loved.

Once he's satisfied that you're clean, he helps you dress, his hands lingering on your skin with each article of clothing he helps you into. When you're fully clothed again, he pulls you into his arms, holding you close as he presses a kiss to the top of your head.

"You're so beautiful, sunflower," he murmurs, his voice filled with awe and admiration. "Inside and out."

The warmth of Joel's embrace and the tenderness in his voice make your heart flutter with a mixture of joy and trepidation. You're standing in a moment that feels both surreal and more real than anything you've ever experienced.

"Joel," you say, your voice still shaky from the intensity of your encounter, "what does this mean for us now?"

He pulls back slightly, his hands cupping your face as he looks into your eyes with an intensity that takes your breath away. "It means," he begins, his thumbs stroking your cheeks gently, "that I can't ignore these feelings any longer. It means that I want to be with you, truly be with you, in every sense of the word."

Your heart leaps at his words, but reality quickly sets in. "But what about my dad? What about everything else?"

Joel nods, understanding the weight of your concerns. "I know it's complicated," he admits. "And I don't have all the answers right now. But I do know that I can't go back to pretending there's nothing between us, that you're just my best friend's daughter.”

You smile at that, feeling a sense of relief wash over you. "So... where do we go from here?"

"First," he says with a grin, "we get back to that barbecue before your dad sends out a search party." He gives you one last lingering kiss before stepping back to survey the scene. "Then we figure this out together—away from pryin’ eyes and family gatherings."

With a nod of agreement, you follow Joel out of the garage, your hand securely tucked in his. The world outside seems different now—brighter, more vibrant, as if your encounter has somehow altered your perception of reality. The sounds of laughter and music from the barbecue drift towards you, a stark contrast to the intimate silence you've just left behind.

As you approach the party, Joel gives your hand a reassuring squeeze. "We'll take this one step at a time," he whispers, his voice barely audible over the noise of the gathering. "Okay?"

You nod, grateful for his presence and his promise. Together, you reenter the party, blending seamlessly into the crowd as if nothing has changed. But everything has changed, and you can't help but feel a thrill of excitement at the secret you now share with Joel.

Throughout the afternoon, you catch each other's eyes from across the yard, exchanging knowing smiles, and subtle touches whenever possible. Your dad, none the wiser, chats happily with neighbors and friends, his laughter mingling with the sounds of summer.

As the sun begins to set, casting a warm golden glow over the neighborhood, you find yourself standing next to Joel by the grill once more. He hands you another beer, his fingers brushing against yours in a silent gesture of affection.

"So," he says, nudging you gently with his elbow, "how's that secret sauce treatin ya?"

You can't help but chuckle, the memory of your earlier exchange bringing a flush to your cheeks. "I think it's safe to say it's the best sauce I've ever had," you reply with a wink, taking a sip of your beer to hide your smile.

Joel laughs, shaking his head in amusement. "Well, I don't know about that," he teases. "I might have to give you a few more samples before you can make such a bold claim.”

But before you can retort, your dad saunters over to join you by the grill. He claps Joel on the back affectionately and turns to address both of you.

"You two look like you're up to no good," he says with a smile. "What are you plotting over here?"

Your heart skips a beat at his words—does he suspect something?—but Joel seems unfazed as he throws an arm around your dad's shoulders with brotherly affection.

"Just discussing some top-secret barbecue business," Joel replies smoothly, giving your dad a reassuring squeeze before releasing him and turning back to tend to the grill once more.

—

Eventually, as the crowd begins to thin and the night grows deeper, your dad announces that it's time to start cleaning up. You join in, helping to gather plates and cups and fold tables, all the while feeling Joel's gaze on you.

Once the last of the guests have said their goodbyes and the yard is returned to its peaceful state, your dad claps Joel on the back, thanking him for another successful barbecue. "You outdid yourself this year, Joel," he says with a smile.

Joel returns the smile, though his eyes flicker to you for a brief moment. "Always happy to host," he replies, his voice steady despite the undercurrent of emotion that passes between you two.

Your dad turns to you, his eyes tired but content. "I'm gonna head home, kiddo. You coming, or are you gonna help Joel clean up?"

You glance at Joel, who gives you a small nod, understanding the silent question in your eyes. "I'll stay and help out, Dad," you say, your voice calm and composed. "You go get some rest."

Your dad chuckles, shaking his head. "Always the responsible one, just like your mother. Alright, I'll see you in the morning."

With a final wave, your dad heads off down the street, leaving you and Joel alone under the starlit sky. The moment his figure disappears into the distance, the air between you seems to crackle with anticipation.

Joel steps closer, his eyes searching yours. "You okay?" he asks, his voice low and intimate.

You nod, a small smile playing on your lips. "Yeah, I'm good. Just... processing everything, I guess."

He reaches out, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear. "We don't have to figure it all out tonight," he says softly. "But I want you to know what happened between us... it wasn't a one-time thing for me."

Your heart swells at his words, the warmth of his touch igniting a fire within you. "It wasn't for me, either," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

For a moment, you simply stand there, lost in each other's gaze, the world around you fading into insignificance. Then, with a shared look of understanding, you both begin to tidy up the remaining mess, working side by side in comfortable silence.

When the last dish is washed and put away, and the yard is once again pristine, Joel takes your hand, leading you to the porch swing. The night is quiet now, save for the distant sound of a dog barking and the soft rustle of leaves in the gentle breeze.

You sit down next to him, the swing creaking slightly under your combined weight. His arm wraps around your shoulders, pulling you close as you both look up at the stars.

As you sit there, nestled under Joel's arm, the stars twinkle above, casting a serene glow over the quiet neighborhood. You feel a sense of peace and contentment that you've never experienced before, a feeling of being exactly where you're meant to be.

"It's beautiful tonight," you murmur, your head resting against Joel's shoulder.

“It sure is," he agrees, his voice a soft rumble. But when you tilt your head back to look at him, you realize he's not looking at the stars. He's looking at you. His eyes trace the contours of your face, drinking in every detail as if to memorize you, to etch this moment into his memory forever. The corners of his eyes crinkle slightly, a silent indication of the smile he wears in his heart, a smile that reaches out to you, enveloping you in its embrace.

"Joel..." you begin, unsure of what to say next. There are a million thoughts swirling in your head, a million questions about what the future holds for the two of you.

He seems to sense your unease and gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze. "We'll figure it out, sunflower," he assures you again.

You take a deep breath, letting the comforting weight of Joel's arm around you anchor you to the present moment. The uncertainty of the future looms ahead, but for now, you choose to bask in the warmth of his affection.

"I know we will," you reply.

Joel's smile is soft. "That's my girl," he says, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "Brave and beautiful.”

The gentle sway of the porch swing and the rhythmic chorus of crickets lull you into a state of peaceful tranquility. Your eyelids grow heavy, and despite your best efforts to stay awake, you find yourself succumbing to the pull of sleep.

Joel notices your drowsy state and smiles softly, his eyes reflecting a tenderness that makes your heart flutter. "Come on, sunflower," he whispers, his voice a soothing balm to your weary senses. "Let's get you inside." With surprising gentleness, Joel scoops you up into his arms, cradling you against his chest as he stands from the swing. You let out a sleepy protest but quickly settle against him, your head resting on his shoulder as he carries you into the house.

He navigates through the darkened rooms with ease, making his way to his bedroom. He lays you down on the bed, pulling back the covers so he can tuck you in.

You watch him through half-lidded eyes as he moves around the room, turning off lights and setting an alarm for the morning. When he's satisfied that everything is in order, he begins to undress, shedding his clothes until he's standing in nothing but his boxers. The sight of him—all hard planes and toned muscles—makes your breath hitch in your throat despite your sleepy state.

Joel catches your gaze and chuckles softly. "Like what ya see?" he teases gently as he slips into bed beside you.

You nod, your cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and desire. "Always," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper.

Joel's eyes darken at your confession, but he makes no move to act on the attraction that still crackles between you. Instead, he reaches out, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear. "Get some sleep, sunflower," he says softly, his fingers tracing a gentle path down the side of your face.

You nod again, snuggling deeper into the covers as Joel turns off the bedside lamp, plunging the room into darkness. The bed shifts slightly as he settles in beside you, the heat of his body a comforting presence in the cool room.

As you drift off to sleep, you feel Joel's arm wrap around your waist, pulling you back against his chest. His breath is warm against the nape of your neck, and he lulls you into a deep, peaceful slumber. In the quiet darkness of the night, with Joel's protective embrace surrounding you, you feel safe and cherished. The worries and uncertainties of the future fade into the background, replaced by a sense of contentment and belonging and you know this is exactly where you were meant to be.

[ohokaythtsu-blog]

“PALE MOON” PART 1

REMMICK x Reader (Black Female Reader)

WARNINGS: Cursing, Blood, Biting, angst, death, interracial, mention of racists subjects, KKK mention

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

The music pulled through the wooden walls of this ol barn, black bodies swayed and sweated through the floor as we danced, sung, and laughed the night away. I stood over by the door looking down at my drink, swirling around my glass cup, filled with corn liquor. See I wun’t like my brothas, Stack and Smock. Sure money made me smile but I wanted to move my body and dance, but them two, they wouldn’t dare let they baby Sistah sway ha body on the floor where any man could touch and grab me. I wusn’t no damn baby no mo. But let them tell it, I was still baby sis, the one those two left with Mary while they took they asses to Chicago. I had a lot on my mind that night and all I wanted was to shake my body at this new Juke they opened. It was a celebration that my brothas was home, and for me and Mary to grieve her motha’s passing, god rest her soul. But something eerie and exciting about tonight had me on my 4th cup of corn liqa.

“Sis get yo ass over here!”, Mary shouted as she danced with Stack. I huff and saunter over, I was wearing a soft purple silk dress, and my momma’s purls. “What ya’ll wont, finally letting me dance with somebody tonight Stack?” Mary chuckled and Stack looked at me like I stole his money. “Sis it would be a cold day in hell before I let you do that…nah actually I need you to work yo magic”. I looked at Stake wit a scowl. “Boy the hell you need me to do na? It bet not be about them white folk that stopped at the door earlier”, I look between Stack and Mary. “Ya’ll aint serious is ya…Why yo ass and send Mary? What if they Klan?”. Stack looked at me then Mary, “Know what ya’ll can both go, Sis only reason I said you because you a swindler at heart like ya big brothas and judging by the eyes on that white man…whatever he said his name was, he was eyeing yah. Bet you can get bank out him, and Mary yo ass better watch my sista”. Me and Mary looked at him, Mary wanted to help but I did not in the slightest. “Oh, so I can’t shake my body in here or you’d cut one of these n**gas hands off, but you’d make me go talk to a white man? You a cold man Stack”, I said before taken his gun from him and Mary took a switch blade. I put the gun on my garter and walked towards the door. Cornbread was sitting there as I walked past him with Mary behind me. “Where ya’ll narrow ass’s goin?”, Cornbread yelled. I looked back with a mean attitude, “Cornbread mind yo damn business I ain’t lil no mo. You don’t need to be minding my business”. I sway away and walk towards the three-white people on the tree bench far outside. They were…singing?  

I listen closely but something was eerie about their singing, made me feel uneasy, especially the man with the overalls and gold chain, his eyes in mine as he strummed his banjo. His voice calmed me a bit, made me feel at ease, like I could trust him, almost hypnotic. Mary claps as they finish, but I remain quiet. Mary begins talking to them, but that mad….would not stop looking at me.

Mary notices our staring and she whispers to me, “Looks like he want ya”. I look at her with a scowl, “hush it Mary”. But she was right it was like I could hear his thoughts. “Is there a reason you looking at me like dat?”, I asked looking at the man. He smiles and lets out a deep chuckle. “Oh darlin, I don’t mean no offense, your just…beautiful”. His blue eyes investigate my brown ones, and something about the sweetness of his tone of voice made my stomach flutter. I blush and bit my lip, unable to really look at him after. “Well  thank ya…”. I straighten up a bit, quickly regaining my thoughts of why me and Mary stood out here in the first place. But before I could fully even get a sentence out, I hear some arguing out back of the Juke. “Excuse me on moment..”, I ultimately leave Mary there, knowing she would be safer than I, considering she was a white woman, and I a black one. Sure she was like my sister but, my loyalty truly was to Stack and Smoke, my older brothers. Before leaving, the man that made me blush only moments prior looked at me. “My name is Remmick…”, he smirked, which I found endearing but also unsettling, like he heard my thoughts of me getting ready to leave but not knowing his name.

 I rush out back of the Juke joint and hear Smoke and a few men arguing. Sammie, our cousin, standing there like he ain’t know what to do. I budge in and step between my brother and the man he was arguing with. “Now we tryin to be civilized folk, and here ya’ll go with that sh*t now what’s the problem?”, I ask crossing my arms. Smoke clenched his jaw, “This n*gga thought he could walk out here with my money from that dice game”. See one thing my brothas aint like is for ANYBODY to steal they money, and judging by the way Smoke held his gun in his hand, he meant business. The man in question, accused of stealing Smoke’s money, stood his ground. But that was his mistake, so me being me, I looked in his eyes. “Look if you don’t wont no Smoke, you best be emptying yo pockets”, the man looked at me and scoffed. “I ain’t gotta do shit…bi*tch”. Now while everyone knew Stack and Smoke as the men they were, they also knew, that they little sister wasn’t shit to play with. I just laughed before smacking him, hard. And before the man could even lay a finger on me, nor before Smoke could shoot em dead, and hand punches him. Swiftly the man falls to the ground, and I look at who punched him, it was…Remmick.

Guess Mary heard the commotion first, and Remmick followed her. The man now on the ground knocked out cold. “Sis you know this white man? First he at the juke door, now he saving ya? He yo man or sum?”, Smoke says as he looks between me and Remmick. “No, met him same time yall did”, I look at him and my heart flutters again, finding it hard to defer the difference in Remmick’s eerie nature and his flirtatious one. “Oh I ain’t mean no trouble, I heard him call yah outcha name, and ain’t no way to carry on with a beautiful lady, is all”, Remmick says with a smile, he then looks at Smoke. “I don’t mean to intrude on anyone’s business, but I have a knack for catching someone in a lie, and I’d bet he may have your money.” Smoke still ain’t trust no white man, but when he looked in the man who was knocked out cold on the dirt ground, he found trick dice and about $25 in the man pockets. The money belonging to Smoke. Smoke said nothing, instead he pocketed his money, and had the other men beat up the man on the ground. Smoke, Mary, and Sammy all walk back into the Juke joint, before Smoke turned to me and whispered, “I know you…just yell if you need me sis.” Smoke was much more of a gentle brother to me, he spoiled me and Stack rotten, and he could tell by the look on my confused and slightly astonished face, that I was growing some interest for white boy Remmick.

There is this bit of awkward silence, I look at Remmick with now less guarded eyes, I was faltering a bit. "Thank you for...that, though I ain't no damsel" Remmick smiles and chuckles looking at his feet, "Well I know that, by just looking at yah lot, I can tell your a strong one. I just don't like a man to treat a woman, like she ain't right.", he says as we sit on a bench far off. I noticed his...'friends' were still where I left them out front, but I could feel their eyes on us. "You know, while I may be polite now...your friends need to mind they eyes." I say before looking back at Remmick, he smiles and rests his hand on my thigh, respectfully. "Oh them...don't mind them, they are as equally enamored with your beauty...though I myself am a bit of a jealous man, that all these people look at you" I look at him, but all I could feel was my fast heart rate, and his weirdly cold hands on my thighs, each slow movement of his hand comforting me. I wasn't sure if I should have been turned on or afraid. I wasn't like Stack, he easily could be with Mary and no one dared to look his way. Me flirting with Remmick was hard to do. "What ya saying Remmick?", I say with a more softer southern voice. He leans in with a somewhat sinister smile and whispers to my ear, his breath hot on my spine. "What I am saying is you are beautiful, and I hope that my exterior, doesn't keep me from knowing your interior."

[manicpixiejinxgirl]

Arcane as Thanksgiving

Vander: Is the one hosting. Made the turkey and it is subpar but made with love. He hopes to rekindle some old friendships and maybe even start up new ones. Delighted to meet Vi's girlfriend and her friends, and is anxious but hopeful about seeing the more... estranged side of his family.

Silco: Was invited by Vander and dragged there by Jinx. Spends the day making snide comments towards Vander until he gets drunk and then just starts hurling insults and accusations at him like the messiest wine aunt known to man. Brought a store bought green bean casserole so he wouldn't get accused of not bringing anything but left the price tag on it to make it clear that zero effort was put into it on his part.

Vi: Brought napkins and will be the one doing most of the dishes and clean up when the meal is done. Invited Jayce alongside Caitlyn mainly out of pity but now Mel and Viktor are also here. Torn between flirting with Caitlyn and sending death glares towards Silco. Does get in a full blown argument with him in defense of Vander after the passive aggression turns into full insults. Almost flips the table.

Caitlyn: Brought three different kinds of pies that she baked from scratch herself in an attempt to make a good first impression with her girlfriend's family. Very anxious and awkward but is trying her best to put her etiquette classes to use and play it cool (she's failing). Tries to get Vi to calm down at first but is now just trying to make awkward smalltalk with Vander as all hell breaks loose around them.

Jayce: Brought a mildly overcooked sweet potato casserole that he made using his mother's recipe. Very excited to spend thanksgiving with his favorite lesbians, and invited Mel and Viktor along bc where he goes he needs them to be too. Doesn't know anything about Vander but backs up Vi in the argument without hesitation. Only makes it worse.

Mel: Was definitely invited by Jayce under false pretenses. Came in hopes to get closer to and learn more about the people Jayce cares about. Brought something very elegant and handmade like cranberry brie pull apart bread. Like Caitlyn and Vander she tried to diffuse the argument, but eventually gave up and is drowning herself in wine hoping that she will forget all about this day tomorrow.

Jinx: Came with Silco so didn't feel the need to bring anymore food items, but did bring custom christmas crackers that she made specially for each guest. Sensed the tension between Silco and Vander and Vi and Silco, and decided to make subtle comments that she knew would lead to the big argument just for fun. Joins the argument on Silco's side just to further irritate Vi but fully does not gaf and just wants to watch the world burn.

Viktor: Was forced to come by Jayce and had no idea what to bring. Googled "What to bring to Thanksgiving with my boyfriend's family" because he felt that was the most comparable common situation to his and so he brought a semi fancy store bought charcuterie board. Hates big social events and didn't want to be here in the first place. Attempted to start a conversation with Jinx about her clear talents for crafting but now that the argument is in full swing he's decided to channel his discontent into helping her add fuel to the flames of the fight despite having no idea who any of the people arguing are (except for Jayce who he is mad at for forcing him to come here just so he could third wheel his little sister and her gf for some reason)

Ekko: Brought some garden fresh roasted corn and carrots. Came believing it was just going to be the Vanderfam and was mildly dissapointed when the Pilties showed up, but almost left when Silco arrived. He is the only one asides from maybe Viktor who knew instantly what Jinx was trying to do and spent the entirety of the meal trying to thwart her attempts at instigating a huge argument. He failed and is now glaring at Jinx from across the table who is smuggly grinning back at him.

Sevika: Brought the wine and then dipped. She was only invited because she happened to be there when Vander invited Silco so she came to bring the penultimate ingredient of all family arguments and then left bc she has better things to do.

[alexanderlightweight]

I'm dying to send this since you filled the prompt and I'm so happy I can finally do it! Can I ask for a follow up of the bonds I'd break?

here is the last bit and then this is a bit of a time skip.

i hope you enjoy!

<3 lumine

the bonds i'd break

Alec moves as if he’s experiencing the phantom pain of a missing limb.

There’s a part of him — an awareness of Jace that used to exist even if Alec tried to ignore it — that is gone. It lingers on his mind and in the way there's a sense of emptiness.

The outing with Magnus was fine. It was something of a distraction at best and Alec got to spend time with Magnus, which is about the only thing he actually knows he wants to do.

So walking around together was informative. The quiet was a balm to his raw senses and seeing Magnus enjoy himself was soothing.

Alec… Alec hasn’t yet remembered how to enjoy himself.

In fact, he’s beginning to wonder if it’s something he’s ever actually done.  He remembers having fun with his siblings but even that wasn't free in the way Magnus is when he shows emotions.

The pleasant expressions that he sees on Magnus' face aren’t familiar and just as Alec is beginning to wonder if he’s truly broken, Magnus laughs.

They’re no longer out and about.

Alec is making waffles — because cooking is mindless and even if he burns something, Magnus will just summon actual food — and Magnus is laughing.  It’s genuine and deep and the corns of his golden eyes crinkle and his smile stretches so wide his teeth gleam like a promise.

“You’ve got flour in your hair, sweetheart.” Magnus chuckles and instead of using magic, he crosses the room and brushes it free with gentle, tender touches.

It makes Alec’s chest ache, but not with pain.

There is a feeling almost like relief that echoes through him, because Magnus laughing like this is beautiful.  It’s safe and warm and it’s something that Alec wants to hear, again and again and even more, he wants to be the cause of it. 

Like he is right now.

Magnus' laughter is something to look forward to.

And now its his goal.

It's something Alec didn’t even have a moment ago and it’s something for him to want. Alec looks at Magnus and wonders how to explain his revelation when words are already so difficult that they feel heavy on his tongue.

“Sayang?” Magnus asks and Alec suddenly wishes he knew what it means when Magnus calls him that.  He hasn’t had the energy or the interest to ask. It was just a word that didn’t hurt but now, Alec thinks maybe it matters.

That maybe it can matter. That he can matter.

Having Jace cut away and losing his future — and his family — doesn’t have to be the end of everything.  Alec’s adapted before and while it’s never been easy, it’s always been worth it.

—

Alexander nuzzles into Magnus palms with a sigh of deep relief.  The tension that’s never left his body suddenly breaks and he inhales, like the touch and scent of Magnus’ skin is the only thing from falling apart.

“Alexander—” Magnus strokes magic over Alexander’s spine in comfort, pressing close to him with both his body and his power.

Alexander’s lips kiss Magnus’ palm and his fingers twitch, stroking over Alexander’s cheeks with the instinctive desire to touch.

Magnus has been so careful with handling Alexander that this moment feels fragile, yet Alexander’s eyes are the clearest Magnus has seen them when he looks up through his lashes at Magnus.

The energy feels precious. A sacred balance forming as Alexander looks at Magnus with focus and purpose.

��What makes you happy, Magnus?”

It’s not a question Magnus is expecting and yet he can’t brush it off or answer it with a joke as he normally might.

“A great many things, darling. Happiness can’t truly be quantified by preference or assumptions. Sometimes what should have made me the happiest has caused me the most sorrow and other times, things that should have brought nothing but pain have caused joy instead.” Magnus can’t help the chuckle he lets out, or the way he brings his left hand to the nape of Alexander’s neck and scritches at the loose curls there. “I never expected a shadowhunter to make me happy, but you do.”

Alexander seems genuinely surprised by that.

“How have I brought anything but tragedy to your door?”

“Don’t take on burdens that aren’t yours to bear, Alexander. Very little of that was your direct fault. Also I realize now I could have been a bit more direct with how serious I was about you. There were several times were you proved that you trusted me, even if you tried to say otherwise. Besides despite how horrible of a situation it was, you chose me at the end and that made me happy. That you continue to trust me, that you let me see you like this and let me help you; that brings me joy.”  Magnus can’t help but smile, because Alexander is smiling at him. It’s small and it’s soft but it’s there and Alexander’s eyes thaw even more in response.

“May I ask why?”

Alexander shakes his head and at first Magnus thinks that’s his answer until he realizes Alexander is blushing and trying to rub away the pink of his cheeks on Magnus’ palms. It makes him laugh and that has Alexander pausing, looking back up at him with eyes that seem to glow.

“Because I’ve figured out something I want.” Alexander tells him, “and I wanted to know how to get it.”

Magnus worries that his heart won’t survive this, because the devotion and awe in Alexander’s eyes would overwhelm a Saint.

AN:

alec is super dissociating. he actually is rabidly curious about what sayang means, he just hasn't had the spoons to care or ask. like, that is beyond him when right now he should be getting a gold star for just getting up every day.

he's starting to snap out of it. hyper-fixating on magnus quite a bit because magnus is what makes sense and is comfort and safety and

magnus is just relieved his shadowhunter is self-healing for the most part and that he doesn't need to bring in a therapist. magnus doesn't mind a little codependency. that's not uncommon in immortals.

yes magnus is beyond pleased that alexander just told him that his goal is making magnus happy.

magnus is going to milk that.

and alec is going to be thrilled.

[srldesigns6277]

If the kids family entered the country illegally then yeah, they should get deported?? Lmao??

There's only so many people a country can sustain. Every country worries about its citizens first and foremost. The obligation of a country and the politicians is to take care of their own FIRST. Everyone else is second. If you want to move someplace else then fucking do it legally and see if they let you in. You don't get to just jump the fucking border and rub your hands like a shitty little fly.

I am going to break this down point by point.

Your first statement: One that's fucking appalling since I know people who have seen the inside of those fucking facilities. I have seen the cages they have put children in before. No one. NO FUCKING PERSON should be put in a fucking cage. Many of the students I know and see have entered the country on visas and do work, but many American students I know won't. Many of them also have experiences that would make your head spin, from either their home countries or Border Agents. My community is better off with our immigrant population. We have construction workers, plumbers, thriving restaurants, and community groups. Many of the immigrant students and their parents have entered the healthcare industry here, too. They are integral to our community.

Your second statement: Did you know our country pays farmers to burn their crops or to not plant them at all? We often have overproduction in certain cash crops like corn and wheat. Most homes in the United States are owned by corporations rather than individual citizens, which has led to more homelessness, especially as those corporations tend to increase rent exponentially each year, often pricing people out of being able to afford rent. If the country truly cared about its citizens first, wouldn't it do something about the corporations?

Third statement: Similarly to what I just stated, If the obligation of Congress, the President, and the Judiciary, wouldn't they want to lower the infant mortality rate? Wouldn't they want to lower the pregnancy mortality rate? Wouldn't they want your prescriptions to be lower? Wouldn't they work with veterans to ensure they had easy access to healthcare and homes? Wouldn't college be cheaper or at least more accessible? Wouldn't they care about climate change since, as we just saw this past week(Jan 2025), the deep south has been under snowfall, the last time being the 1890s? Wouldn't they want to protect the rights of citizens since CITIZENS are you claim they want to help over immigrants? Wouldn't a government that cared want to have affordable homes for people?

Fourth statement: What ever happened to the poem on the Statue of Liberty?

"Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, The wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tost to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door!"

Or does that just matter if you are European? My family went through Ellis Island, where all they had to do was present their names and what they brought with them. But they were from Italy, so they were deemed okay, right? Or my family from Germany immigrated in the 1840s and were just allowed to move and create their own farms in Western Pennsylvania or Ohio. Or even still, the individuals who come on work or college visas, the H1B visas, are deemed perfectly fine. What's the difference there?

Your fifth statement: Our families probably did that, from the boats of Ellis Island in the East and Angel Island in the West. Plenty of people have been allowed to stay after doing similar things in the past, so why is it different now?

Next time just say your racist and move the fuck on.

[shady-lemur]

you and roommate!ellie who impulsively skipped the dating part and went straight to engagement.

pt 2 of this

you guys almost killed joel when you announced your engagement.

“okayy so we’re sure your all wondering why we gathered you guys here tonight!” you say excitedly as jesse, dina, and joel stuff chips and salsa into their mouths. dina and jesse had already found out when you posted on your instagram story a picture of ellie pretending to eat your hand while you showed off the ring, they were just here for support (chips)!

“we’re expecting!!” ellie says, clapping her hands, making you hit her arm gently, “ow! fuck sorry..”

“we’re.. engaged!!” you say holding up your hand, dina starts HOLLERING at you guys and joel starts to choke. like fully choking on his chips. you are completely horrified, watching your fiancées dad choke right infront of you. ellie is covering her mouth, kindve worried but mostly trying not to laugh. dina is cracking up… like hysterical, and thankfully jesse was there to do the heimlich maneuver…

joel was happy for you guys after he finally spit up his corn chip though!!

after the excitement wears off a little bit it lowkey gets a little awkward at home 😭😭

“soo.. do we like sleep together now?” ellie asks you as you both sit on the couch cuddling your cat, you deadpan at her, “ellie don’t be a perv..”

“OH MY GOD. not like that oh my god. like should we share a bed?” her face is bright red and she buried her head into boo’s fur. you start laughing at her, “oh shit!! umm… yeah i guess… we could start like kissing more too.. i don’t know i’ve never been engaged..” ellie starts giggling too. “i think once your engaged you have to send your fiancée one boob pic a day..” you smack her arm, “YOU ARE A PERV!” she tries to dodge your hand, “only for you baby” she winks.

your bachelorette party is LITTT 😛😛

you and ellie have all the same friends. so you decide to just have a party a couple days before the wedding instead of doing separate things. you had gone a complete deep dive online, buying things you didn’t even know what to do this for the wedding. so for the party you decorated your home with led lights, disco balls, plastic dicks that came in a huge package of bachelorette things. ellie made you hang up a banner that said “same dick forever!”

there was karaoke all night. so much alcohol that you still woke up hungover on your wedding day, 3 days later. the neighbors came to complain at first but you would just invite them in. dina gave a slurred speech, you and ellie left your own party to get taco bell and make out in your car, someone hired a male stripper and you started crying when he started stripping because you got scared. someone got a video of you sobbing into ellie’s chest while this man danced to pony in the background.

you made fun of her for laughing when you walked down the aisle but then you balled like a baby during vows.

“hi” you whisper when you finally get to your spot at the alter, she nervously sniffles, “hi.. you look beautiful..” you giggle at her teary state. neither of you are listening to word the pastor is saying, too absorbed in your own universe. “i remember you saying you weren’t gonna cry..” you giggle. ellie presses her lips together and rolls her eyes playfully. “yeah yeah.. you would’ve beat my ass if i didn’t cry though.” you nod and smile at her. you guys are snapped back into the real world when vows are announced.

ellie goes first. she’s literally one sentence in and your crying. everytime she looks up from her paper she gets distracted by your sobs and starts LAUGHING AT YOU. she brings her hands to your face every once in a while to wipe your tears and help you fix your makeup. you are a mess by the end of her vows and so when you start saying yours you can barely get a sentence out.

you guys finally get to kiss and you both have never felt so inpatient in your lives. ellie grabs your face and pushes her lips into yours, she pulls away and whispers, “who’s the baby now?” you stick your tongue out at her.

you find a baby at the reception and you and ellie carry it around all night, only returning her to her mother when get low starts playing.

you guys get a photo booth !! you flash her in it and so there’s one picture of ellie where her eyes are so wide they look like they popped out of her head.

you guys are the last two when your playing limbo and you get so competitive about it.

“oh my god ellie your actually sleeping on the couch tonight if you fucking beat me..”

“baby you literally used your hand!!! i saw your hand touch the floor!!!”

[ohbo-ohno]

Please please bo sort a girl out with Ghoap x Reader in an abandoned farm 🤪🤪

1k game here - no more please!

@luminousbeings-crudematter my beloved!!! idk if tumblr gives you a notif when i post an ask you sent so im tagging you just in case lol. also you said "unhinged texas chainsaw massacre" and i tried my best but i've never seen that movie :')

3.8k of ghoap x reader ft. ghost and soap hunting down their newest pet in a corn maze (cw: rough noncon sex, kinda puppy play? super light) this is mostly soap x reader, sorry!!

The collar is heavy around your neck, making every breath difficult as you pant. Your lungs seize in your chest when you stumble through the corn maze, desperate for any light at the end of the tunnel.

It doesn't come, but you push on anyways.

The corn is rough against your arms and legs, your body vulnerable to the rough stalks with so many tears in your clothes. Everything hurts - your feet from the rough ground, your throat from all the screaming, your stomach from pure fear and adrenaline. You're too blinded from terror to focus on any of that, the only thought in your head to go go go go get away.

The roar of a chainsaw is loud somewhere to your right. You nearly fall to your knees at the sound, windmilling your eyes to keep yourself steady. A loud, manic laugh echoes from the same direction, and your legs nearly give out.

Fuck, he's right there.

You can't think about how close the sound is, can't focus on how you swear you can see the corn moving, you can only run.

The stalks split in front of you, and you stumble into a clearing. You freeze, feet stopped right on the border of the new area. You bounce onto your toes, like you'd been tugged to a stop before exposing yourself.

The clearing is empty accept for an old tractor, sitting in the center of the grass. It's just a large enough circle that you'd be exposed for several seconds if you tried to reach it, totally clear if anyone was in the stalks.

But... you could hide there, couldn't you? The machine looks massive from your vantage point, there's surely a place to hide there.

It feels cruel to leave your fellow victims to the killers hunting them down, but you know that you have to try and save yourself before trying to help someone else.

You take a deep breath as you sink back to your heels, crouching a little lower in the corn to see if you can spot any movement around the perimeter.

The chainsaw revs again, and someone screams.

Your decision is made for you. The sound of death sends you forward, instinct making you move.

The dirt is rough beneath your feet, small rocks sticking into the soft parts of your sole and offsetting your run. You try your best to keep your balance, eyes trained on the tractor and the small space you know you can squeeze in.

It's silent but for the sound of your own panting, blood rushing through your ears, nothing but that perceived safety in your mind.

Just as you start to ready your legs to launch yourself up to the seat, legs tensing, you're shoved away. Your breath is forced from your lungs as you hit the ground, dirt and rocks shoved into your arms as you roll.

"Ah!" You cry out, forced to your stomach as you roll. It takes a minute to recognize what's happened, for it to click in your mind that someone's there.

It's too late by the time you realize.

You still try to get away, some animal part of you knowing that it's dangerous to stay down.

You manage to get to your knees, eyes darting wildly to spot whoever's tackled you, to know what direction to run. But the field is empty, and you're already moving before you think to look behind you.

It costs you, because you hardly get a step away before you're shoved to the ground again, your attacker staying over your body.

"Where you goin'?" The man rumbles in your ear, his chest pressed to your back and lips against your ear. He nips the shell of your ear and your eyes fly open, face shoved into the dirt.

Hardly a foot away, a chainsaw rests in the dirt. Blood drenches the blade, slowly dripping into a puddle beneath the weapon. It makes you whimper, trying to squirm away from the killer above you.

"No, no, no," he purrs, nosing his way to your cheek and just leaning there, pressing his smile into your skin, his voice rumbling through your back. "Down, pup, c'mon, you're caught. No point in runnin'."

"Please-" you gasp, neck arching to try and get away. "Please, please, please-"

He makes a sound that's somewhere between a laugh and a grunt. "Please, please, please?" His voice pitches up in a mocking tone, a horrible imitation of yours. "You a broken record, lass? Only wanna say the same thing? Come on, tha's no fun, gimme something new."

You shout, the sound caught somewhere between a cough and a sob, hands stretching forward and clawing at the earth. "Please!"

He truly laughs now, a sharp noise in your ear. He stretches himself up above you, chest lifting and hips pushing into yours so that your legs are pinned. All you can do it try to drag yourself forward, hot tears beginning to fall as you're held down in the same place.

"Guess it does sound good from your lips," he muses. He shifts behind you, knees squeezing to either side of your hips and hands reaching so he can grab your elbows.

"Look'it you," he tsks, bending forward to lace your hands together. You cry out at the feeling of being covered, his chest above your head. "Ruinin' your pretty nails, and for what?"

Your head drops to the ground, sobs tearing your throat to shreds as spit falls from your lips. You feel bile working in your stomach, that horrible tension beneath your tongue like you're about to throw up.

"I can't-" you gasp, panic clawing at your mind. You know this man is going to kill you, that he's going to make it hurt, and every part of you rebels at just the thoughts. You can't stop fighting, can't stop trying to get away from him even with the weight holding you down.

"Can't what?" He hums, shifting to kneel above you so that he's not nearly suffocating you. "Can't go anywhere? Naw, bonnie, you're not goin' anywhere now. Caught you fair and square, didn't I?"

There's a part of you that screams to try and argue, to take a deep breath and settle to see if you can make some sort of deal, but the bigger part of you can't calm down, can't do anything but try and shove yourself out from the maniac above you.

"Plus, if I let you go runnin' off you might get caught by Simon." His arms settle on your shoulders and you can't help but yelp, ducking your head low to try and protect your neck. "Then I'd lose. You want that? Thought we were closer than that, lass."

You sob, teeth clenched tight. You don't fucking know the man, you don't know whoever Simon is, you just want to go home.

"That's what I thought," he hums. "Now," he pushes up, and your arms and torso are free as he settles back to rest his weight on your thighs. "I think you and I have some time to play, hm? Before Simon catches us both."

You don't- you don't know what he means, and it's hard to breathe past the fear. It clicks when his hands move to your hips, gripping them tightly.

"Wait," you gasp, eyes flying wide when his fingers creep beneath the hem of your jeans. "Wait, stop-"

"Oh, look at that," he laughs, hands shoving further down until his palms wrap around your thighs. "Learned some new words, baby?"

Your eyes squeeze as your feet kick against the dirt, unable to find any traction without shoes. Scrabbling so frantically only to stay right where you're pinned only serves to work you up more, to make your heart race faster.

"You're warm," he hums, kneading at your thighs and using his wrists to force the pants down, slowly revealing more and more of your skin to the cold night air. "Gonna warm me up, lass?"

"No," you hiss, the realization of what he's going to do sinking in. Your pants are pulled down to mid thigh, keeping your thighs from spreading and leaving your backside on display. "Stop- I'll- don't you dare-"

He laughs again, landing a harsh smack to your vulnerable ass. You cut your begging off with a yelp, hips rocketing into the ground to try and escape the sting when he lands another slap.

"You tryin' to boss me around? Real cute, pup, but you don't have a leg to stand on. Stuck pinned in the dirt and still tryin' to be in charge?" He laughs again, blows shifting from slaps to taps, jiggling the fat of your ass. "Cute, bonnie. Real cute."

You fold an arm beneath your face, try to use the other to force yourself up. "Stop fucking- stop hitting me, you bastard!"

"Oh!" He cackles, his lap slap almost bruising in it's force. "She's got some spine, huh? Maybe you'll be more fun than I thought."

You snarl into the dirt, legs kicking up behind you to try and hit his back. He's too high up on your thighs o reach, and you end up kicking the air like a toddler throwing a tantrum. It only fuels your anger, makes you feel more stuck.

"Keep fightin', bonnie." He presses himself closer to your face, and you catch a glimpse of sharp teeth from your peripheral, his smile sharp. "Makes it more fun for me. Think you'll tighten up if you kick kickin' and screamin'?"

You scream, a primal sound straight from the gut as you throw your head back and to the side, trying to hit him. You somehow manage it, but you hurt yourself just as much. You cry out at the sudden pain in the back of your skull, crumbling back to the ground.

There's a loud moan over your shoulder, and his hips press into yours. He's hard to your horror, his length pressing against the softness of your ass. "Fuck, that felt good."

God, the man is disturbed.

Your attempted attack doesn't stop him from hooking his fingers in your underwear, tugging them down to rest in the crease where your thighs meet your ass.

"Pretty," he purrs, hands stroking from your rips to your jeans, hands pushing hard enough to make you whine. His treatment is all too rough, like he's trying to mold you into the shape he wants. "Can't wait to get my dick in you," he groans, groping you.

"Nooo," you whine, trying to push yourself into the dirt, like it might open you up and swallow you whole, help you escape the horror you can't do anything to stop. "You can't- you can't fuck me, please, don't-"

He moans again, and you hear the clinking of a belt being undone. "Fuck, say it again for me."

Your eyes squeeze shut. You want to be anywhere else, anywhere but here.

You feel the heat of his cock against your ass, and tears sting in your eyes. You taste dirt against your lips, feel your palms sluggishly bleed from the scrapes against the rough ground. You try to focus on everything but what the killer's doing to you, but's impossible

His palm cups your center, fingers wrapping around your vulva and holding firmly. You flinch when his middle finger works between your folds, coming to rest on your clit.

"Need to get you wet," he mumbles, starting to work at the nub to coax some pleasure out of your body. "Simon wouldn't like it if I made you bleed." He snorts, then corrects, "Well, bleeding down there. Won't be shocked if he wants to carve you up a bit."

You shiver, focused too much on staying stiff and keeping your mind as far away as possible to put off the inevitable. What he says doesn't even properly click in your mind, floating in one ear and out the other.

"There we go," he purrs, palm growing slick as your body warms to him unwillingly. He grunts as he shifts to use both hands, one focusing on your clit and the other coming back to tease at your hole.

Two fingers slip in without warning and you yelp at the sudden stretch, hips bucking back instinctively and forcing the fingers further. Your moan is pulled from your chest, part pleasure and part pain.

"You want more lass? Here, don't mind stretching you out."

The third finger comes too soon, too suddenly, and the sting edges too close to pain for you to feel good, even unwillingly.

He's got no patience at all, fingers spreading inside of you while his thumb works furiously at your clit. The mix of good and bad leaves your head clouded, tears slowing as your mind starts to float away a bit.

He moans against your back, face pressed into your shoulder. "Feel so tight, bonnie. Can't wait til you're wrapped around me, wet and tight... fuck, can't wait much longer..."

His teeth press into you throw the fabric of your shirt, the bite only slightly blunted. You breath stutters out of your chest, lips shaking. You want to fight, tell yourself that you should bite and claw and scream, but he's already proven to you that he'd only enjoy that. All you can do is lie in the dirt, lamp and shaking.

Despite all your fear and your hatred for the man over you, you wish he'd stretched you out more.

"Gotta get inside of ya," he grunts, tugging his fingers out with a terribly wet sound. You can hear him sucking your wetness off of them as he shifts further up, letting his hard length rest between your thighs. "Don't... God, you taste good, don't wanna stretch you out too much. You get it, yeah bonnie?"

You whine forlornly, turning your head to the side. You can see him over your shoulder - tall and broad, brown hair in a... mohawk?, bright teeth shown off in a smile. He ducks down while he fists his cock, dipping himself into your wetness.

Wet lips press a kiss to your cheek, a trail of that wetness left against your face. When he pulls back you see the blood dripping from his nose, sniffle at the realization that he's left his own blood over your face.

"Look pretty in red," he whispers, tone oddly soft. It tugs another tear out of you, dripping down the bridge of your nose. His free hand comes up to your face, running a finger through the tear track and sucking the drop off his fingertip. "Taste good everywhere, love."

Your eyes close when he notches himself at your hole, pressing in just enough for you to feel the stretch. He's massive, and the prospect of him shoving himself fully inside of you... you shudder, trying to loosen yourself as much as you can.

He's not kind when he pushes in. You're not sure why you hoped he would be, not with the blood-soaked chainsaw still in your line of sight. But the sudden fullness, the sting, the stretch, draws a high cry from your lips.

His groan nearly drowns out your sounds, your walls spasming around him to try and adjust. You hate that it feels so good for him when you feel like you can hardly breathe around him.

"Feels so good," he moans, words hardly enunciated, thick accent only thickened by his pleasure. You can hardly understand him, far too upset to bother translating him in your head.

"Can't-" he pants, hips jerking out just a few inches only to buck back into yours, pushing as far inside as he can. "Can't come, but can get you off, yeah?"

There's a part of you that's confused by that, that wonders what the fuck he's talking about, but a much larger part of you is focused on the slow drag inside of you.

It would feel better if you were a little wetter, a little more stretched out, but you can't change those things. You relax, try to force your body to cooperate just to make things easier. You try to lean into the parts that do feel good - the way his cock drags against all the most sensitive parts of you, the slap of his balls against your clit - and sink into that pleasant feeling instead of the adrenaline still lingering in your veins.

He doesn't speak when he fucks into you, forehead pressed into your shoulder blade as he starts to drive you truly insane. It starts feeling good quickly enough for you to forget the pain, the horror, and you gladly fall into the oblivion creeping over your mind.

It's good, as horrible as it is to think. The bastard knows what he's doing.

It's some indeterminate amount of time later when you hear the stalks shifting again, eyes flying open just in time to see a man step into the clearing.

The man over you moans when the stranger gets closer, turning his head to the side. His hips buck into you even more roughly, your thighs beginning to ache from the force.

"Simon," he calls out, and it clicks in your head.

The new man is masked and wearing all black, and you recognize him as the other killer hunting you through the maze. His mask is just as terrifying from close up as it was when you first glanced over your shoulder while running, the sight of him in the distance almost floating while surrounded by shadows.

"Bein' good, Johnny?" He rumbles, boots stopping next to the chainsaw and toeing it away.

"Yes, sir," the man over you - Johnny - grunts, thrusts erratic. "Left-left the ring on, haven't come, promise."

There's a hum from above you, the man crouching down. "Good boy. Woulda had to ruin your fun if you got yourself off."

He whines at that, and you can't help but furrow your eyebrows. The man above you going from cocky and terrifying asshole to whining and moaning above you doesn't fit with the image you'd had in your head.

"I ken. 'S why I didn't take it off, ye bawbag." Johnny's voice shakes a bit as he switches to grinding against you, hips pressed flush with yours. The sudden pressure against your clit and so deep inside of you leaves you moaning, eyes rolling back. The peak of an orgasm is right there, just out of reach, and you reach for it desperately.

"Watch it," Simon scolds, shifting forward to his knees and reaching far enough to slap Johnny, the sound echoing through the silent clearing. Your eyes fly open, instinctually flinching away.

Simon's head tilts down to you, ignoring Johnny's whine. His gloved hand comes down to rest on your face, gripping your chin and lifting enough to get a good look at your face.

"Pretty thing," he says, giving your face a little shake before letting you drop to the ground. You can't even begin to care so close to the edge, focus solely on getting off

"'S what I said."

"Hmm. Why don't you go ahead and get the poor pup off? Looks like she's cockdrunk enough as is, might as well get her the whole way there before we take her home."

"With pleasure, sir."

It's hard to focus after that point. Johnny's hand tunnels beneath your stomach and to your clit, working his hips in full thrusts and rubbing you so perfectly. It takes hardly any time at all to get you off, the perfect mix of sensations sending you flying over that edge.

You're not sure what happens between the time when you come and when Johnny pulls out. Your vision nearly whites out, moving away from the scrapes and bruises and into the pleasure gripping every muscle. It's so much easier to lean into the good than the bad, to pretend the warmth is just the pleasure instead of the man at your back.

You're brought back into the real world by the feeling of something being wrapped around your neck, left just tight enough for you to jerk, panicked you couldn't breathe.

"Hush, pup," Simon shushes when you jerk up, eyes flying wide. "Just givin' you your collar. Makin' sure anyone who spots you can take you right home, hm?"

Johnny tugs you up as Simon speaks, grip just a tad too rough on your shoulders when he pulls you up to your knees. You're still a bit out of it as he tucks your jeans and underwear up, dick hard and slick against the small of your back.

The fear comes back as you're brought to your feet by Simon, hands on your elbows tugging you up. You're unsteady on your feet, knees almost knocking together while you blearily blink up at the masked man.

The sound of metal clinking together, a small yank against your neck, is what brings you fully back into your skin. Simon clips a leash to your collar and then Johnny's, matching pink and blue leads that make your eyebrows furrow.

Johnny - shirtless, drenched in blood - smiles at you, teeth stained with his own blood.

"Come on," Simon rumbles, a sudden tug against your throat nearly sending you to your feet. "Need to get you home, pup."

Johnny catches you before you can fall, laughing as he helps you up. The sight of a black studded collar at his throat jars you, fingers lifting to feel at the fabric around your throat. It's not studded, just a soft leather with a thick ring at the front where the leash connects.

"Looks good on you," Johnny compliments, guiding you to stumble along behind Simon as the man leads you both away, into one of the entrances to the maze.

"What..." your throat is rough and you cough, heartbeat picking up. "What're you doing?"

Johnny's smile is a little condescending, almost herding you forward by staying half behind you. "Takin' you home, lass. You're the last one alive. You make a pretty final girl, bonnie."

There's a sharp yank at your collar, tugging your attention to Simon where he's glancing over his shoulder at you. "Think you'll make a good pup. Johnny's been needing a new little friend, might as well be you, hm?"

There's.... nothing really to say to that. You're too weak, too shaky to try and make a run for it. The blue leash is held loose in Simon's hand, but the pink is wrapped tight around his fist. There's no way you're strong enough to jerk it out of his hand, and even if you could you've got no way out of the maze - they already found you first.

Johnny's hand nudges you forward, almost making you fall. He moves to walk beside you, shoulders almost rubbing together. You think the expression he shoots you is supposed to be comforting, but it's anything but.

You breathe deeply, head beginning to throb again, and hope you have the strength to survive what they'll do to you.

[unwantedtomost]

Pls pls pls 🙏🙏🙏

You miggy and your dad all go out the the fair and some dirty shit goes down

so needy — miguel o'hara

dbf!miguel x fem!reader

word count: 659

summary: dirty things happen at a carnival and you wonder if this is how it has to be. part ii to so dirty.

warnings: slight angst, fingering (f!receiving)

a/n: thank you so so so much for all the attention on so dirty! i was definitely not expecting for it to get that much attention. i do think i'll be coming out with a part three that fits the themes. thank you anon so much for this request it definitely gave me much needed inspiration. keep sending in requests!

You couldn’t believe what you were doing.

You don’t know why on earth you would agree to something like this. Being trapped between your father and Miguel for an entire day. You were almost positive the night would end with tragedy. Someone would say something, you would slip up, then your father would be aware of your little affair. That’s exactly why you ended it after the little stunt Miguel pulled during the neighborhood cook-out.

You knew it was going to be hell and it was.

Your father wanted to go to the carnival. It was a tradition, you couldn’t say no. Miguel was a lonely bastard and your father’s closest friend, so of course your father invited him to tag along. And of course he said yes. Bastard.

He was trying to get you under your skin, trying to worm his way back into your heart, back between your legs, but you weren’t going to let him. You were positive you were strong enough not to give into him. Absolutely positive. You never felt that confident about anything, that’s how you knew it was a lie.

Miguel’s eyes were on you the entire day, you could feel it. His gaze burned your skin, you sadly invited the heat. Every time you tried to catch him, make him admit just for a second about what he was doing, but it was no use. He was too quick.

You started to wonder how you had avoided giving in for so long. You had pushed him away for two weeks but in five hours you started to melt at every glance. It was so easy to forget about him when you tried to forget about his existence but now that he was in front of you, there was no hope.

Everything started to boil over when you were finally trapped alone with Miguel.

Your father insisted you and Miguel enjoy the ferris wheel while he waited in the long line to get corn dogs for everyone. You were at an impasse: either you act weird and risk getting caught or get trapped alone and possibly give into the one thing you’ve been trying to avoid.

There was really only one option.

Now you were trapped at the top of a ferris wheel with your face pressed into Miguel’s neck and his hand buried between your thighs.

“Baby, why have you been hiding from me?” he whispered into your ear.

“This is wrong, so … wro...” your thoughts drifted off as two fingers entered your dripping heat.

You missed him. You missed him so much. How could it be so wrong when it felt like heaven? You loved him, you wanted him. Who cared if it was taboo?

“But you like it, don’t you, amor?”

“I love it,” you whined. You would feel embarrassed if you weren’t so needy.

“Tell me how much you want me,” he cooed in your ear.

“I need you, Miggy. I want you forever. Don’t care who knows anymore. Just need you forever.”

His fingers pumped into you harder, his other hand rubbing fast circles on your clit. The coil in your stomach was about to snap. You hated how good he could make you feel, hated how he had you cumming in minutes.

“I love you,” he whispered and continued like a chant.

Suddenly, you were gone. You bit his neck, trying to hide the loud moan bubbling in the back of your throat. Your thighs clamped around his hands. Despite the pressure, he tried his best to continue his motions, helping you ride out your high. 

The ferris wheel started moving and you sat up straight.

“Let’s get out of here, Miggy,” you said as you fixed your hair. “Let’s figure this out.”

He smiled at you and you felt warm everywhere. For a moment you realize that you didn’t have to be Romeo and Juliet. The story didn’t have to end in a tragedy.

[criticallyacclaimedstranger]

August Rain [Frankie x reader]

My Frankie Morales masterlist

Read on Ao3

Fandom: Triple Frontier

Ship: Francisco “Catfish” Morales x you (f!reader in that Frankie calls them ma'am, but otherwise no descriptors)

Warnings: Sugary cuteness, kissing, allusions to sex. Frankie mentions getting fat.

Summary: You and Frankie have tea and cake and cuddles on the porch swing. That's it, that's the plot.

Words: 1,200

A/N: @rambling-in-purple sent me a bunch of gifs (see below) to inspire me to write something starring Frankie. It took me a couple of days, but here's my lil cutesy comfort piece. I hope you like it, Lila!

It starts to rain as you’re finishing up dinner. You glance out the kichen window, sigh deeply, and grimace across the table at Frankie.

”There goes my gardening time.”

”Good,” he replies sternly. ”You’re sniffling, you should be taking it easy.”

He’s right, of course, but gardening after a long, rough day at work soothes and grounds you. You had hoped that the forecast had been wrong, that the late summer weather would be unpredictable enough to evade meteorologist analysis, but no such luck. Then again, you’ve been feeling under the weather for two days now, sniffling in the morning and beat at night. You really should be relaxing to avoid a full blown cold, or worse.

”Whatever,” you mutter, putting down the cutlery. ”Thanks for dinner.”

Frankie had been home before you, and prepared the food, for which you were grateful. To have to think about dinner on top of everything at work was a little too much for you at the moment.

”You’re welcome,” he replies softly. ”I’ll clean up, you go lay down for a bit.”

”I’m too wired.”

”You’re exhausted.”

”That, too. I’ll clean up, it’s okay.”

You end up doing it together, Frankie accepting your help only because you know that he likes doing everyday chores with you. When the kitchen is spotless and the dishwasher humming, he grabs the tea kettle.

”Cup of tea?”

”Please.”

”You wanna thaw those pieces of chocolate cake we’ve been saving?” he suggests as he fills the kettle. The mention of chocolate sends a small starter rush of dopamine to your brain.

”Hell to the yeah.”

You take out the box containing two pieces of cake from the freezer, and put it out on the counter to thaw.

”That’s gonna take a while,” Frankie points out. ”Come on, let’s go sit down.”

”Can we go out?” you suggest. ”We haven’t used the porch swing much this summer.”

Frankie accepts, and that’s how you end up on the porch swing, your head on Frankie’s shoulder, his arm slung around your shoulders, a blanket over your laps. The rain is soothing, and even if it’s not cold, there’s a melancholic hint of fall in the air. You look at your overgrown garden where everything seems to be in a hurry to grow and bloom before the season is over, and there’s something both sad and beautiful in it.

”This is nice,” Frankie murmurs, his low voice sending a warm, titillating vibration through you. ”Why haven’t we done this more often?”

”Too hot,” you remind him, and he hums as he remembers how hot indeed the porch gets in the summer afternoons and evenings.

”We still have time in the fall,” you add. ”Just have to bundle up properly.”

”I like that.”

”Me too.”

He kisses your forehead and pulls you in snugly against him.

”It’s even nicer when it rains.”

”Cosy.”

He kisses your head again.

“You think those cake pieces are good to eat now?”

“Oh, right. Yeah, they should be.”

“You sit here, I’ll them them, and the tea.”

You sit up straight and hold onto him to prevent him from rising.

“Love you,” you tell him with a grateful smile, and kiss him.

“Love you,” he hums against your lips, kissing you back until you’re done. You give him a little shove.

“I want cake.”

He chuckles, and gets up with a Yes ma’am before disappearing into the house. You pull up the blanket and redirect your gaze to the garden, looking at the sunflowers, brilliantly yellow and dramatically red in the rain. There’s still crops to be picked, the corn stands straight and proud in their patch, and you remind yourself that there is still time. Summer will linger during the days, even if the evenings and nights are getting cooler and darker.

Frankie returns carrying a tray with two steaming mugs of tea, and the cake slices on two plates. You pull up the sidetable to the swing, and soon you’re enjoying tea and a perfectly moist and soft chocolate cake.

“God, this is good,” Frankie sighs. “Why don’t you bake chocolate cake?”

“Because the bakery does it so much better,” you shake your head. “You know I can barely bake cookies. Why don’t you bake?”

“Because I’d do it constantly, and get really fat.”

“It doesn’t matter, I’d still love you.”

He looks at you with those soft brown eyes that still make you weak at the knees, even after all these years.

“That’s a relief. Maybe I will learn to bake.”

You grin, then see the smudge of chocolate on his lower lip.

“You got some chocolate there.”

“Here?” He points at his lips, and you shake your head.

“A little to the right, no, not there, hold on…”

You lean forward and kiss the spot on his lip, suck it into your mouth gently, tasting the chocolate on him, his scent surrounding you in the best way possible. Frankie’s arm comes around you and he pulls you in close, his lips claim your with that slow security that he possesses and that is so familiar and safe to you, and you kiss and kiss, unhurriedly, lovingly, comfortably.

When you finally have to stop and take a breather, your cheeks feel warm.

“Anywhere else you wanna check for chocolate?” Frankie jokes in a low hum, making you laugh.

“Not before I’ve finished my piece.”

“Oh, that’s right, we still got cake left…” He sounds almost disappointed, but accepts your final little kiss, and sits facing forward with you, both of you eating the rest of your cake. Mug in hand, you cuddle up to him after, sipping the hot beverage.

“We really should do this more often. Light candles and stuff.”

“We’ll see to it that we do,” Frankie promises.

The subsequent silence between you is comfortable, the only sounds the rain and the faraway din of a car passing by on the road further away. Your mind is calm even if your body still feels like it might be fighting a budding infection, yet you still feel better than you have in days.

“Frankie?” you speak quietly.

“M-hm?” he hums in the middle of a sip of tea.

“You think we could fuck on the swing?”

He coughs, then swallows the tea audibly before looking at you. You look back innocently.

“You need to be careful, I could’ve choked to death.”

“You’re fine.”

“I’m an old man who could die from anything.”

“That doesn’t answer my question,” you remind him sweetly. He purses his lips and furrows his forehead, and you can practically see the cogs moving.

“Not right now we can’t,” he eventually tells you.

“Why not?”

“Because you’re not getting undressed outside in this weather, you’ll catch your death.”

“It’s not even cold!” you protest with a smile, and now he’s grinning back.

“I’m not taking any chances. If you wanna have sex, we’re going in.”

“Fine.” You stand up, the blanket gliding off your lap on onto the floor. “Then let’s go in.”

You pick up the tray with the now empty plates, and walk ahead. Frankie stands up as well, folds the blanket, and grabs the mugs.

“Yes, ma’am…”

[ohokaythtsu-blog]

Saw this movie twice, and I felt like I wanted a story with him but make it what his true nature was, and this is the start of that. So, leave some suggestions. Also, the spelling errors are on purpose for the accent. Also, this isn't a fun fanfic this is something dark like the movie, something I actually dreamed about. :)

TITLE: “PALE MOON”

REMMICK x Reader (Black Female Reader)

Release: May 10TH, 2025

PSA : I am a black woman, so if you read any offensive language in here. A) I can say it and B) this the 1930’s in MISSISSIPPI, I am more than sure this was how it sounded.

WARNINGS: Sexual content (Not what you think it is, or rather who you think it is), Cursing, Blood, Biting, angst, death, mention of racists subjects, KKK mention

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

The music pulled through the wooden walls of this ol barn, black bodies swayed and sweated through the floor as we danced, sung, and laughed the night away. I stood over by the door looking down at my drink, swirling around my glass cup, filled with corn liquor. See I wun’t like my brothas, Stack and Smock. Sure money made me smile but I wanted to move my body and dance, but them two, they wouldn’t dare let they baby Sistah sway ha body on the floor where any man could touch and grab me. I wusn’t no damn baby no mo. But let them tell it, I was still baby sis, the one those two left with Mary while they took they asses to Chicago. I had a lot on my mind that night and all I wanted was to shake my body at this new Juke they opened. It was a celebration that my brothas was home, and for me and Mary to grieve her motha’s passing, god rest her soul. But something eerie and exciting about tonight had me on my 4th cup of corn liqa.

“Sis get yo ass over here!”, Mary shouted as she danced with Stack. I huff and saunter over, I was wearing a soft purple silk dress, and my momma’s purls. “What ya’ll wont, finally letting me dance with somebody tonight Stack?” Mary chuckled and Stack looked at me like I stole his money. “Sis it would be a cold day in hell before I let you do that…nah actually I need you to work yo magic”. I looked at Stake wit a scowl. “Boy the hell you need me to do na? It bet not be about them white folk that stopped at the door earlier”, I look between Stack and Mary. “Ya’ll aint serious is ya…Why yo ass and send Mary? What if they Klan?”. Stack looked at me then Mary, “Know what ya’ll can both go, Sis only reason I said you because you a swindler at heart like ya big brothas and judging by the eyes on that white man…whatever he said his name was, he was eyeing yah. Bet you can get bank out him, and Mary yo ass better watch my sista”. Me and Mary looked at him, Mary wanted to help but I did not in the slightest. “Oh, so I can’t shake my body in here or you’d cut one of these n**gas hands off, but you’d make me go talk to a white man? You a cold man Stack”, I said before taken his gun from him and Mary took a switch blade. I put the gun on my garter and walked towards the door. Cornbread was sitting there as I walked past him with Mary behind me. “Where ya’ll narrow ass’s goin?”, Cornbread yelled. I looked back with a mean attitude, “Cornbread mind yo damn business I ain’t lil no mo. You don’t need to be minding my business”.

I sway away and walk towards the three-white people on the bench far outside. They were…singing? I listen closely but something eerie about their singing made me feel uneasy, especially the man with the overalls and gold chain, his eyes in mine as he strummed his banjo. It was almost Hypnotic. Sum ain't right...

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

EDIT: PART 1 out now

[dodger432101]

Maybe, Hopefully.. - Mr Ring-A-Ding x Reader Part 2

[Muahahaha, I tease you with the idea of the reader meeting Ring! Next time, promise ;>]

You arrive at Palazzo on time, not early, for your second day there. After the creepy stuff that happened yesterday, you're not as excited to dive into the cinema and start your work. By the entrance, your boss is waiting, hands in his pockets and whistling a tune. When he spots you a huge grin stretches his face, almost like he wasn't expecting to see you. “Oh, good morning! I was a little worried you wouldn't come back, to be honest.” It was something you'd contemplated when your alarm had woken you up. Spending another day in this haunted building wasn't something you were looking forward to, but hey, you're getting paid! “Like I said yesterday, I'd like for you to test the projectors that are currently inside. They're all old, and haven't been used since the place got shut down. It'll be good to know if any need repairs or just replacing completely before any new ones are installed. There's plenty of films in there to choose from, so you can have a real movie day!”

That doesn't sound half bad. “I think I can manage that. Do you know if the popcorn machine works?” He laughs as he checks his phone.

After a few seconds he shrugs. “All I know is that there's one in there. If you can get it running, you're free to make use of it. And I'll add the repair to your paycheck.” After sending you a goofy wink and finger gun, your boss makes his way over to his car. “Have fun! Send me a checklist of all the projectors, and maybe put something to clarify it's you, seeing as our little spectre likes to send messages too.” With a wave he's in his car and driving away. You take a deep breath and walk into the cinema, missing the figure in the window who'd been watching since you showed up.

It's eerily quiet inside, even with the construction workers already on the roof again. The air is still, yet slightly chilly, and that cool temperature only adds to the goosebumps rising on your skin. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you shudder as you make your way to the popcorn machine. It.. looks clean. So clean, you'd imagine it's a brand new machine. Surely the previous caretakers didn't clean it, right? If they'd done that, they might as well have fixed it too, and your boss would know about that. A clean corn popper is one of the less strange things that you've encountered in here, though, so you shrug it off and check the machine. The burner looks to be in good condition, there's no visible breaks in the plug’s wire. Is this a new machine? There's no way it would be in this condition after so many years of going unused and unchecked.

With a shrug, you stand up and go to the kitchen to grab a bag of popcorn seeds and anything else you want to add to them. Might as well test it. As you return, you finally remember that you haven't actually used one of these before. “Now.. How do you work?” After mumbling that under your breath, there's a rustle of paper to the side of the machine. An instruction manual has appeared. “Oh.. uh, thanks..?” You look around. No sign of anyone, or anything. At least this invisible force is being helpful. It takes a few minutes for the burner to heat up enough for the seeds to pop, but it works! You can't help but giggle at the popping sounds, watching the white fluffy kernels dance around the pot.

Once it's all done, you carefully move it back into the paper bag and turn off the machine, unplugging it just for good measure, then head off to the first projector you need to test. There's a selection of films waiting for you in the booth, lined up on the desk. They're.. all Mr Ring-A-Ding cartoons. Just the name makes you smile. Yeah, you were quite the fan of this little guy while you were growing up. Your parents and grandparents would take you to any showings of those cartoons, even though it must've been insufferable for them. Might as well see if the jokes still hold up. After a quick look at the projector -which, while clearly old, is still in good condition- you load up the reel and take a seat at the desk, munching away at your little bag of popcorn.

Ring-A-Ding peeks around the door to the projector room, little sparkles in his eyes as his gaze is fixated on you. You're actually watching his cartoons! He'd honestly thought you'd just laugh it off and find something else, but no! Not only that, you're.. Smiling. Laughing. Singing along to his theme tune. You.. You like him! You actually like him! Maybe, hopefully, you wouldn't be afraid if he showed himself to you. Maybe you won't run out of the building just from the sight of him. Ring presses his cheek to the doorway, watching you watch him with a hopeful smile. Maybe.. maybe not yet. He frightened you yesterday, multiple times, the memory of your scared expression making his mood sour and antennae droop. The click of the projector turning off snaps him out of his sorry state, quickly hiding behind the wall as you turn in his direction.

There was that flash of blue again. Just in your peripheral. Maybe this place is drawing on your paranoia, making you imagine things in the corners of your vision. Anyway, that's one projector running smoothly. Let's check the rest.

At the end of the day, it turns out only one of the projectors needs a professional look over. You ended up watching more of the Ring-A-Ding films left out for you, reliving the joy of your youth through that silly pig-bug-man. With a report sent to your boss -ended with your name, surely whatever’s impersonating you through text doesn't know that- you start to head to the entrance. That's when you look down at the paper bag in your hand. There's still some popcorn left, under ten pieces easily, but.. maybe someone will want it. The mysterious blue… Thing doesn't seem to be very big, from what you've seen in the quick glances before it makes itself scarce. You go back to the popcorn machine, where you'd left the instructions on the ground. “Hey, uh..” It feels really awkward talking to thin air. “There's some popcorn in here. If you.. want it..” After placing the bag on the floor, like you're leaving cheese out for a mouse, you head back to the front door. “I'll.. see you tomorrow.” Then you leave.

The paper bag is picked up by a blue, four fingered hand. Ring is a little suspicious of the white kernels, having never tried them (let alone any food at all), but you seemed to enjoy it and you clearly have good taste - watching his cartoons all day! So he pops one into his mouth, freezing up as two big white stars flash in his eyes. Oh, no wonder you like this, it's amazing! The little toon has discovered a love for popcorn, and he quickly fishes around for more of it while he trots over to the window to watch you walk away. Though unlike yesterday, there's a little smile on his face. You will see him tomorrow. And hopefully you'll like him in the real world just as much as you like him in film.

[etheralisi]

Rottmnt Fakeposting part 3

Find parts 1 and 2 here + 3.5 + 4 because this couldn’t all fit on one post

🍏holy-sewer-apples Follow

I met a little green alien dude once. Wonder if he’s doing okay

1,578 notes

🕜has-lou-jitsu-been-found-yet Follow

Day 3679 of me posting: no

🎃scared-of-crows-deactivated23902741 Follow

Get a hobby

🛸atomiclass9000 Follow

I will out your search history 

92 notes

☄️gravity-tumbles Follow

Every time I phone in sick, I think about that one kid who came into school bright green. Must’ve been ill as hell. I could never 

767 notes

🐝noneofyourbeezwax Follow

Sasquatch this kappacrawler that. There’s only one cryptid I care about and that’s my neighbour’s cat. That thing ain’t a cat. It’s bright yellow and it stares into my soul

🚫nonononope Follow

That’s normal cat behaviour

🐝noneofyourbeezwax Follow

DID YOU MISS THE PART WHERE I SAID BRIGHT YELLOW

🐝noneofyourbeezwax Follow

No I don’t have any pictures. Stop asking. Damn not-cat keeps vanishing into thin air

🫂glompglomp Follow

Tf is a kappacrawler

🐺wendigo-watcher Follow

Local New York conspiracy. Scuttles around sewers, on roofs, steals your children (maybe)

🐝noneofyourbeezwax Follow

This ain’t about him

6,073 notes

🧚pixipartched Follow

I really really feel bad for asking, but I don’t have much of a choice. Aliens squished by home. Here’s a link to my go fund me here

48 notes

💀outoftouchoutoftime Follow

Last time I had this many people following me, it was an ambush

#I don’t know what I did but hi

56 notes

🏒 HOCKEYORDEATH Follow

EVERY WEBSITE I VISIT ASKS IF I ACCEPT COOKIES

🏒 HOCKEYORDEATH Follow

NO I DO NOT

🏒 HOCKEYORDEATH Follow

BEGONE. KEEP YOUR SUBPAR BAKED GOODS TO YOURSELF

🌽 sherlock_corn Follow

>:(

157 notes

🛸atomiclass9000 Follow

My driver’s license is a two year winning streak in Mario kart. Try arresting me now

⚔️ bluejitsu Follow

Oh???? So you lie to your followers???? I know I won first place last games night and you know it

🛸atomiclass9000 Follow

You cheated

🌽 sherlock_corn Follow

Says the guy who hacks games as a pastime. I still want a rematch

⚔️ bluejitsu Follow

You tell him corn

🌽 sherlock_corn Follow

Oh I know you’re not innocent either mr

203 notes

🚂imatrainwreck Follow

If only there was a way to grow instant luscious locks

🐙massages-at-a-price Follow

I can help with that

#hehe

72 notes

🛸atomiclass9000 Follow

Throwback to that one time my brother was mistaken as IT when trying to return someone’s keys

🥊 red_hotsoup Follow

I was just trying to help

#they fell down the drain #so I picked them up and pushed them back through the grate #I wasn’t trying to be scary #and should you really be posting this

341 notes

cyyyynamon said: I’m going cave diving tomorrow. Will I see you there?

💀outoftouchoutoftime Follow

But you didn’t invite me?

86 notes

⚔️ bluejitsu Follow

Don’t send me back to jail. I’m too pretty

🥊 red_hotsoup Follow

What have you done now

⚔️ bluejitsu Follow

I was too pretty ✨

🛸atomiclass9000 Follow

Be original, Blue

75 notes

💀outoftouchoutoftime Follow

First day of school. I’ve never seen this many people in one area before

🌽 sherlock_corn Follow

Oh the joys of public school. 

⚔️ bluejitsu Follow

*Wipes tear* they grow up so fast

💀outoftouchoutoftime Follow

So apparently normal people don’t chirp. I never want to hold a conversation ever again

60 notes

🕵️‍♀️sloopersleuth Follow

Yoooooo what if our mysterious superheroes in rainbow know the kappacrawler??? You think they’re buddies? Think they hang out and chill and talk about how their week has been? Think kappacrawler house sits from them sometimes? Think they share birthday cards?

7,421 notes

🎽tink-tank-toe Follow

Sometimes I wonder if time travellers really exist. Are we all just on some divergent timeline? How close a shave have we come to a world obsolete?

🛶canoodleoodle Follow

#posts that keep me up at night

5,329 notes

🎨asprinkleofrazzmatazz Follow

Remember to spread the positivity ✨☀️ Kindness can go a long way

🛸atomiclass9000 Follow

Where was this kindness when it came to the last pizza slice?

🎨asprinkleofrazzmatazz Follow

I was already at my daily kindness quota 

1,997 notes

🔎detective-cornstarch Follow

It has occurred to me not everyone on this website knows about the kappacrawler

🔎detective-cornstarch Follow

Your loss

466 notes

🦷sleeptooth Follow

#i am curious

8,003 notes

🫨shake-it-away Follow

Oh kappacrawler, take me away

🫨shake-it-away Follow

Oh kappacrawler, whisk me away into the night

🫨shake-it-away Follow

Oh kappacrawler kidnap me

809 notes

🍮fastest-flanalive Follow

Stop with these he/him pronouns for the kappacrawler. Did you ask them their preferred pronouns????? No. Kappacrawler could be a very fancy lady

🐈meown Follow

I’m very sorry kappacrawler. You can be a fancy lady if you want :(

🍯honeyhoneysugar Follow

Have we been misgendering kappacrawler with whole time? 

😐restingsnitchface Follow

It’s a cryptid. You think it’ll care about gender?

7,335 notes

🐸frippityfroppity Follow

If I was a kappacrawler where would I hide

🍾snopop Follow

In your walls

2,756 notes

🫣flinx-blinx Follow

I thought there was only one kappacrawler. But I swear I just saw two. Is there a mr and mrs kappa??? Baby kappletts??? A whole kappa family 🥹🥹

😈my-dad-is-satan Follow

Maybe? I think there’s at least three

4,102 notes

🐒nightmonkey Follow

Who is this kappa??? Why is he crawling???

🐒nightmonkey Follow

Spider-man wannabe

2,811 notes

🦜petite-parakeet Follow

Still convinced that whole invasion thing was a hoax. Elaborate, but a hoax

765 notes

🪄meet-my-nunchucks Follow

Were those aliens sent packing? I’m confused

🪄meet-my-nunchucks Follow

Are they at home? On some faraway planet? Kicking their tentacles up after a long day at work invading our planet?

3,230 notes

💗love-duv Follow

5,008 notes

📖myfixoffic Follow

Guys come read my slenderman x kappacrawler fic here for all of your slenderkappa needs

🌑faded-moonlight Follow

Why would you write this?

📖myfixoffic Follow

Why not ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

278 notes

⚔️ bluejitsu Follow

I heard that kappacrawler has an 8-pack. That the kappacrawler is shredded

🛸atomiclass9000 Follow

Be original, Blue (tally: II)

312 notes

👻ghost-chase Follow

Why can’t I live in New York. I want to fight aliens too

👻ghost-chase Follow

1,864 notes