#and its okay to feel that way and its okay to want to stay that way

[reidrum]

how you talk so sweet when you’re doing bad things | s.r.

A/N: this is literally prn with no plot i’m sorry. i just really love thinking about spencer on his knees sue me! this was supposed to be longer but then i decided to save it for when i write for juno heheh

cw: smut 18+ minors dni, softdom!spencer AND munch!spencer look at that a 2-for-1!, fingering fem receiving, brief condescending!spence if you blink, many many pet names, spencer says good girl that’s a warning on its own, afab!reader

summary: you and spencer come home from a night out and he knows exactly what to say to get you wrapped around his finger (literally!)

wc: 1.4k

_______________________________________________

You stumble through the door with Spencer trailing not too far behind you. You’d both been out with the team getting drinks and as the night progressed Spencer found himself getting especially touchy with you, so much that you could still feel the imprint of his hand on your inner thigh.

The drinks of the night had long faded leaving you in a haze as you both entered your apartment, Spencer’s solid frame coming up behind you to hold your waist.

“Good thing I’m here to make sure you don’t fall.” He chuckles softly.

He slowly turns you around and gently pushes you against the wall. You give him a lazy smile as your hand reaches up to trace the outline of his jaw, “You’re pretty.”

“If I’m pretty, what does that make you?”

“Lucky.”

Spencer blushes and smiles softly, “That was good,” He bends down to press a kiss to the spot behind your ear, slowly trailing down to the sweet spot at the base of your neck. His fingers press into the sides of your hips, “You okay? Still feeling it?”

You shake your head no pointedly, “Just fuzzy.”

“Fuzzy is good,” He nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck, “You’re nicer when you’re fuzzy.”

“I’m nice all the time!” You feign offense.

He chuckles back, “Okay, you are nice all the time. I think I meant more…compliant.”

You grin up at him, “What, you don’t like me in control?”

“No I do, trust me, I do. But, you deserve to be taken care of. And I really like it when I get to take care of you. It’s easier for me to do that when you’re all…fuzzy.”

Another lazy smiles adorns you and Spencer can’t help but lean in and kiss your nose.

“Well, we aren’t doing anything until these devil shoes come off.” You mutter softly.

Spencer laughs and kisses you one last time before smoothing his hands down your side as he sinks to his knees, gesturing you to lift your foot up and perch it on his shoulder, allowing perfect access to your heel.

You lean back against the wall attempting to flatten your back to ease the aching of it. Through hooded eyes you look down to meet Spencer’s hazel ones staring right back at yours, as his fingers ghost over the straps of your heels.

“Feet hurt?” He asks as he presses the pads of his fingers into the flesh of your calf, gently massaging the skin as he works his way down the buckle of your heel.

“In these? Always.” You laugh back.

“Oh, poor baby.” He mumbles back with a pout, leaning forward to kiss the base of your ankle. Your eyes widen slightly in entice as you watch him leave kisses up your leg, hands following their path and caressing the skin it touches. He gently places your bare foot on the ground and picks up the other heeled one, placing it on his shoulder and repeating the same motions.

The intimacy of the moment strikes you as you watch his long fingers toy with the buckles and straps of your heels before sliding them off. Your hand subconsciously reaches for his hair and cards through it gently, pushing it away from his eyes.

“Hi.” you whisper.

He looks up to meet your gaze, “Hi, honey.”

“You look pretty down there.”

A chuckle escapes him, “Do I?”

You nod, “Are you going to stay down there or…?”

His fingers dance around your calves slowly inching upwards, “What do you want me to do?”

Humming softly at the touch, you lean your head back against the wall, “I want…whatever you want.”

Spencer laughs again, “See? My compliant, pretty girl.” His fingers reach the hem of your dress, slowly inching further up, “I think I’ll stay down here for a little bit…if that’s okay with you.”

“Yeah, that’s o—okay.” Your breath hitches as he toys with the outer edges of your panties. His fingers trace the outline out to in, just missing contact with where you want him.

You whine softly as he continues to evade the one spot you need him, squirming against the wall for any friction you can find. He lightly chastises you, “So needy…you’re acting like you haven’t been touched in weeks.”

“Spence…”

He hums, “But that’s not true, right?” One finger strokes the front of your panties, tracing a path from the wet patch up to your clothed clit.

“N—No.” You half moan.

His finger lays more pressure, “I take really good care of you, right angel?”

A curse slips from you as he strokes you over your panties.

Spencer smirks as he hooks his index fingers on either side of your panties and slowly starts to drag it down, not missing how the fabric sticks to your slick like honey. “You know why, I take such good care of you?”

You’re too caught up in the anticipation to respond, but that’s not enough for Spencer when he stops his motions and taps your leg, “I asked you a question.”

You look down at him and shake your head exasperatedly, hoping the silent answer was enough for him to continue since you’re nearly on the ledge from the way his hands are moving.

His finger trails back up your leg and ghosts over your exposed cunt, teasing you endlessly, “I take care of you…because you’re a good girl. Isn’t that right?”

“Spencer…please…” You’re not sure how much longer you can take this, your body squirming for any contact.

“Say it.” He pulls back so he can look you directly in the eyes, a single digit sliding through your folds.

“Jesus, fuck,” you let out breathlessly, “Okay, okay I’m a good girl, I’m your good girl, just please…” You can’t even bring yourself to care at how desperate you sound, you would start begging like a sinner in church if he didn’t do anything soon.

He smirks, “That’s my girl,” he taps your thigh, “Over my shoulder.” You quickly abide and raise your leg over his shoulder and rest your thigh on it. Spencer leans in and dives into your folds like a man starved, your hands moving to tangle in his hair and in an effort to stabilize yourself. His tongue motions like he’s making a painting and you definitely think you deserve to be hung in the Louvre after this.

You feel him add a finger in and you’re a goner.

“Spence…I’m—fuck oh my god, please don’t stop.” You whine.

His lips detach from you while he adds another fingers and continues his motions and he mumbles, “You gonna come for me, angel? Been like, what a few minutes and you’re already about to make a mess on my fingers…so needy.” he teases.

He returns back to your core, licking long and thick stripes up and down, his fingers not slowing down as he brings you closer to the edge. The peak begins to build in your gut and the climax overtakes you, a mixture of expletives and Spencer’s name leaving your mouth like a twisted spell.

You release your death grip on his hair as he sits back to catch his breath. You slump down the wall to sit in front of him, your leg still swung over his shoulder. He smiles fondly at you and holds the ankle next to his head, leaning in to press a kiss, “You okay, baby?”

“Mhm…” You hazily say, “Peachy, even.”

His eyes narrow slightly, “…Because they’re fuzzy?” you giggle and nod feeling super proud of your pun. He can’t help but laugh with endearment with you as he gently helps your leg off his shoulder and places it on the ground before standing up himself and reaching his hands out for you to grab it, “Let’s go to bed, I’m not done with you yet.”

You place your hands in his and allow him to pull you up, once you’re on your feet you register his words, “Wait, huh?”

He slowly spins you around so his chest is to your back and starts guiding you down the hallway, “Oh baby, did you think we were stopping at one?” he whispers sultrily in your ear. A shudder runs down your spine and he laughs feeling you shake in his arms.

[yunniestars]

"maybe this time, love won't end."

. . . ACT IV. "Oh No, I'm Falling In Love." ʚɞ pairing: kinich x gn!reader ʚɞ cw: kind of short sorry, mostly fluff hehe, reader is shit at cooking

"sorry..." you dry his hair off using a towel as you apologize. "to be fair, it started to rain heavily, too. so it would've saved you from being sick."

"it's fine," kinich responds as he mesmerize over how your hands knead his hair with tender. "i would've said yes either way. but you really didn't had to headlock me like that," he frowns which erupts a giggle from you.

"i literally never seen you make that face. i should do it more often." he scoffs at your suggestion.

even with such childish banter, kinich feels so much warmth from what was happening at the moment. the loud and thunderous rain contrasted the comforting laughter from the both of you. it reminded him of how you'd tend to his wounds when he came home from a commission that made him end up in a bunch of bruises.

this very moment felt like one of them, however he knew it wasn't the same.

the love and affection he felt, though, remained.

suddenly, he felt something caress his hair. and it wasn't a towel.

"hmm?" kinich feels your hand on top of his hair, which surprised him. "what are you doing?"

"feeling your hair. it's so soft," you tell him as you bask into the softness of the strands. "seriously, how do you have better hair than me? it's so annoying," you sounded a pout which made him chuckle.

"maybe it's because you're the one taking care of it."

୨୧

time ticks down and before the both of you knew it, the hour of supper had arrived.

kinich would expect that it would've been domestic, cozy and full of laughter. he thought that it'd be a simple moment of peace with shared fondness.

boy he was so wrong. because apparently alongside your memories, your amnesia also caused you to forget your ability how to cook -- or more like, you have no idea how to measure things and the portions you pour in the dish ends up altering the taste completely.

"oh my archons- i said SALT."

"THAT'S SALT YOU DUM-DUM."

"look at the label closely, and it says 'sugar'."

"oh."

it was rare for kinich to get verbally upset, but this very moment had him wanting to throw punches at you and toss you from the very top of tectipac peak. he tries his very best to not show his frustration and be patient but oh goodness gracious of all archons you were stubborn.

"kinich! how much soup do i pour in?" you ask but even though you did, your hand had a mind of its own and poured a lot of soup on the bowl which could only take half of the amount you poured on, which ultimately led you to dropping the bowl and a loud yelp from you.

kinich immediately stopped what he was doing and immediately ran up to you, caressing your burnt hand while bringing you to a place away from the shards of glass.

"are you okay? how bad does it hurt?" he asks while checking for any bruises.

"a little..." you responded while feeling a bit faint from the altercation that just happened. kinich sighed and carried you to your couch, gently laying you on top of there.

"stay," he instructs while he goes off to grab your first-aid kit. you were confused on how he already knew where it was placed, but perhaps it's due to the amount of times he crashed in your place.

besides everything, though, you felt your heart thump at how he'd take such good care of you. even though you were stupid to pour an unreasonable amount of soup in the cup, he never insulted you and just immediately came to your aid. it felt nice, considering how you'd always get called out for being clumsy when you still lived with your family.

it wasn't just that, though. the way he'd gently hold you felt like you just fit right in his arms. is it platonic to say that being your friend's arms felt like home? because that's exactly how you felt.

you were used to how boyfriend-material kinich would be but goddamn it still made your heart skip a beat each time.

then again, he said it's how he treated his friends in general, so did you really have any right to feel like that?

after a time of thinking, he soon comes back with the first-aid kit in his hands and kneels in front of you, grabbing that injured hand onto his immediately to treat it.

"so reckless... you just do whatever you want, huh?" he huffs while applying ointment on your burn.

"i'm sorry," you apologize, feeling a lot of guilt while refusing to look at him.

"for?"

"for being clumsy and... not being a good host."

"host?" kinich raises a brow and remembers the main reason how he winded up in your abode. "ah, you don't need to apologize for any of that." "but-"

"but what? no matter the amount of apologizes you utter to me, you'll still do the same thing ever again, and i would be a fool to repeatedly tell you that it's 'okay'," he chuckles lightly and touches your bandaged hand. "i treasure you a lot, so i'm willing to put up with your antics."

ah fuck.

you feel yourself burning up at your words, while also feeling tears well up in your eyes. "i mean that much to you?"

"of course."

you smile and look at him with a gaze you'd only ever show to him. "well, i feel the same."

୨୧

a few hours after eating and cleaning up, the rain hasn't still gone away which led up to the reason why he's staying at your home overnight for the time-being.

"i'm going to sleep at the couch," kinich says, about to tell you good night until you beat him to it.

"no, you're sleeping in my bed," you refute. "you're the guest, i should be the one sleeping on the couch."

kinich sighs and crosses his arms. "well, looks like this is another argument i can't wait, so how about this -- we share a bed."

the idea made you blush. even though kinich looked nonchalant on the surface, deep down he was pulling his own hair for saying such crass things. now he felt kind of like some creep for saying it.

"sorry, i shouldn't have said anything," he apologizes, wanting to break the awkward tension. but you just shake your head and drag him on your bed.

"it's fine. we can share," you fiddle your hands together.

oh. well... that definitely surprised him.

"what? are you sure? i just suggested it because i didn't want you to sleep on the couch and i know you're going to force me to sleep on your bed so..." he trails off and you just put your index finger on his lip, which immediately shuts him up.

"if i say we can share, then we can. okay?" you huff and place your finger back down, leaving him to no choice (even though he really liked the idea). "

and so, you two end up sharing the same comforter. surprisingly, kinich ended up falling asleep real fast. after all, you did notice how exhausted he looked even before the two of you got soaked by the cold rain.

you smile and stop any urges to go and caress his face. you notice his long lashes, the marking on his neck, and of course your favorite part of him, how soft his hair looked. even while sleeping, he looked so undoubtedly beautiful that you'd think about what it'd be like if you kissed him- woah there.

kisses?

beautiful?

you notice how you used such words towards him, ones that only couples would ever refer to each other. but can you blame yourself? he was so full of love, giving you attention when you barely ask for it, doing things that you'd only let him do to you.

the more you think of it, more the realization finally dawns upon you...

you were in love.

୨୧ act iii | act v ୨୧ masterlist

♡ tags: @lvvcian @sunsethw4 @wutap @gasoline-eater @ellieloverrr @romyoia @lunavixia @hipsdofangirl @3lectraheart @keiiqq @fantasyhopperhea @idontevenknow129 @kimura-uzuri

a/n: finally!! ive been wanting to finish this chapter ive had the idea since act 3 but i am so sorry for not updating a lot as of late!! :( ive been preparing for lots and lots of projects + exams r coming up. not sure if i can keep on updating consistently, but most likely when exams end and also during our club week hehe. thank u so much for being patient :')

[opal-owl-flight]

TIRED OF WAITIN’ MAKE UP YOUR DAMN MIND

YEAH ITS ALRIGHT, WE BOTH KNOW THAT YOU WANT IT, DONT YOU BE SO SHY, SHY!

OH MY GOD I LOVE STARKILLER WIDNEKD. I had this idea for Tartar manipulating 3 with words similar to the song…

more abt that below + the piece without the words :]

I wonder if 3, at that point in OE, carry a thought within them... something Tartar can use.

The sanitization is absolute mind control, yes, but it would be neat if it was preceded by a sort of hypnosis; a suggestion that tartar puts out for a victim to bite onto (not that it really matters. The forced body control happens anyway.)

Theres a yearning for the past. That much I know. But I do wonder if Tartar also suggested something else alongside that.

"Ah, the legendary captain of the Squidbeak Splatoon. He probably was the one who pulled you out of that life, hm?"

"...Yes."

"Despicable, this old coot, forcing you to fight a war that ended a century ago. Forcing you to dig up a city your nation already buried.

Making you a weapon in this...disgusting show of continued dominance."

"..."

"Dont you want to end him, right here, right now?"

"...."

"Avenge that younger self, child. Join me, and we will make sure he never hurts you again."

"..."

They look at Cuttlefish. Cod, theyre so weak, their head hurts, they are in no shape to defend themself. Neither is the old man, but...

Their hearts were burning with a feeling theyve been burying for years. A feeling thats gotten stronger and stronger over the long patrol.

This...doubt. Towards the captain they followed the ends of the earth for. Day by day, being pushed to their limits for his continued war. Wanting his approval, wanting to make him proud. Believing that theyre indeed keeping this fragile world safe.

Wanting to...keep being this hero he said they were.

But its getting harder to believe those words now. Not when that Octarian from earlier was such a sweet soul...among others theyve encountered and observed in other patrols.

Their arm burned. It was drenched in that cyan ink the telephone was oozing.

They have no reason to trust this thing that almost killed Cuttlefish and that Octarian that he was with moments before.

Still...

They feel...

Their mind is slipping.

So tired...so hurt...

"Join me. I can give you rest.

Ill bring you...to the promised land."

"...Okay."

--------

They went fully unconscious for awhile. When they "awoke" (but is still under Tartar's control), they were already fighting 8. And their body hurt even more than before.

They never shouldve trusted him.....

--------

This baiting rings familiar, doesnt it. Order did it to 4, as well. Much to 3s horror, they were the reason she took that bait. Her desire to be their perfect agent, and their desire to never be hurt or used by anyone like Cuttlefish again...

They wanted her to be strong enough so she can stay safe and live her life the way she wanted to. But their fear spoke louder than their adoration for her.

Hurt people hurt people, cycle of violence, and all that.

[slutshamethesquirrels]

Your JJK Fav + Why I think You're Single

hi so i did a version of this on tiktok way back when but i feel like i didn't have as great of an understanding of these characters and their respective fans as i do now. please keep in mind that this is purely my OPINION!!!! (my correct opinion)(im kidding)

Gojo - This one's a little hard because there are subsections of Gojo stans. You have the bad bitches, the coolest of the cool Gojo meat riders and then you have (incoherent screeching). I'm gonna assume you are the former here.

Y'all really love the idea of a partner, not actually having one. I feel like y'all will have talking stages a plenty, but when it comes to the nitty gritty y'all are not riders. Not that you don't want to be, no no you'd love to find your person but at some point friends you gotta realize that your person is gonna come with an ick or two you might not like. Relationships are about compromise. Real people simply can't be hot, rich, talented, strong, and funny all at once!! You're getting three of those at best.

Geto - I feel a need to disclose here that I am a Geto girly. I feel like most of us are chill, if not a bit odd // willing to swing.

Babes,,,, and im gonna touch ur clit when I say this-- Real life relationships aren't supposed to have intense cycles of highs and lows. Thats,, thats the cycle of abuse friends. Genuine, healthy connections actually aren't supposed to make you feel like you wanna rip their chest open and crawl inside. I know, i know you can't get attached unless you feel insane about them- but we have to stop this.

Nanami - Again, I feel like Nanami girls have a wide umbrella, but generally I think Nanami stans are very nice people. Nanami, for the most part, is the safest healthiest choice.

Put down the fuckin calculators. I am contacting cafe astrology as we speak and having them ban your IP from accessing their domain anymore. No, put your wallet away, we are not PAYING a psychic to tell you your most recent crush is not your soulmate. Y'all are over-analyzers, over-thinkers, and have a list of requirements for a partner that is twelve miles long. Maybe just talk to people?? Hmm?? Make a connection??

Choso - Oh, Choso stans,,,, loves of my life. Y'all are cool. Like genuinely actually fucking cool. Kiss me.

Okay, so I actually need you guys to see red flags as what they are. No, he doesn't coincidentally have 13 insane exes that won't stay out of his DMs. He did something to all of them. No, its not cute and sweet that he has to call his mommy and tell her goodnight and goodmorning everyday with kissy noises. That man is 24. No, Dominoes pizza did not text him and ask if he was up at 2AM. ur too optimistic, baby. I love you. Get a grip.

Toji - I have knocked noggins with more Toji stans than I care to admit in this fandom, however the ones I do vibe with are SUPER cool. Again, I feel like Gojo/Toji stans have that same thing. Im gonna assume you're the cool variety.

I feel like a lot of your relationships start purely based on sexual/physical attraction, and then get explosive bc yall didn't actually like eachother, you just liked the way the other one looked. I can definitely see this leading to maybe not abusive, but definitely toxic situations. and the thing is i feel like toji stans actually would make a BOMB partner but yall will settle for shitty people because theyre hot and then end up locking yourself in the bathroom and going through their phone while they bang on the door and scream from the other side.

Sukuna - This is the one I have the least interaction with on the day to day. Y'all fascinate me. Just out here doing you. I feel like most Sukuna stans are actually probably some of the sanest of the bunch, they seem to just slide in, post their fan works and dip. I respect it.

You can't fix him. no, no, you can't. stop trying. he's already grown. you cannot raise him.

[ink-perfect]

together.

during battle, zoro takes a hit for you, causing him a serious injury. when the fight ends, a heated confrontation between the two of you ignites, forcing you to confront the fear of losing him for good. (vv angsty, but i can't bear to have a sad ending so some extremely cute fluff at the end!)

the battlefield was a blur of steel and screams, the air thick with smoke and the sharp tang of blood. your body moved on instinct, every step calculated as you cut down the enemies that surrounded you. but you were getting tired - too tired. your limbs were heavy, your breath coming in short, ragged bursts. still, you pushed forward. you had to. your crew needed you.

in the chaos, you felt it before you saw it - a chill making its way down your spine. turning your head, you saw him. an enemy soldier, his eyes locked on you, his sword raised and aimed straight for your heart. you were too slow. you knew it. nobody had expected the fight to go on for this long, and you felt the last of your stamina draining, legs threatening to buckle on the spot. there was no time to block, no time to move.

you were done for.

the glint of his blade caught the light as it arced toward you, and you couldn't even find the energy to flinch. 

but before the blade could strike, something blurred in front of you - a flash of an all-too familiar green.

zoro.

his back was to you, his swords already crossed to block the enemy’s strike. the force of the blow sent sparks flying as their blades clashed, a few landing on your legs and imprinting a constellation of maroon across your skin. once again, you barely reacted, instead just adding the burns to your sprawling mental list of battle scars you had gotten in the last few hours. it was only when you mustered up the strength to look up that you realised how strong the enemy’s attack really had been. his sword had broken through zoro’s guard, slicing deep into his side.

“zoro!” you screamed, your voice breaking with panic as you watched the blood stain his shirt, bright and vivid against the chaos around you. without hesitation, he pushed the enemy back with a snarl, cutting him down with a single, vicious strike.

you stumbled toward him, your hands reaching out, but your legs gave out as soon as you moved. the adrenaline was gone, and your body was failing you. zoro was there before you hit the ground, his arms catching you, consequently taking the brunt of the fall.

“you’re...okay, i got...you...” he rasped, his voice strained but steady. his breath was hot against your ear as he pulled you close, and you could feel the tremor in his body as he struggled to stay upright.

“no,” you choked out, your hands gripping his shirt, feeling the warmth of his blood soaking through. "you’re not okay. zoro, you’re-"

“doesn’t matter.” his voice was low, rough, as he pressed his forehead against yours for the briefest second before lifting you into his arms. “you’re safe. that’s what matters.”

you wanted to argue. to scream. to cry. to kick that stupid attacker's ass. but most of all, you wanted to sleep. this urge overpowered all the former ones, and your world tilted, darkness creeping into your vision. you could acutely feel firm hands running along your back and through your hair, then elevation, and finally a slow but steady movement forward. zoro was carrying you. carrying you with a massive wound in his side. you wish you could tell him to stop, to wait, to let you carry him, but the strength and warmth of his grip made your body feel heavier by the second. the last thing you felt before slipping away was the steady rhythm of the swordsman’s heartbeat beneath your cheek, constant and comforting even as blood pooled at his side.

you woke up in a daze, your head pounding and your limbs aching. the familiar sway of the thousand sunny rocked gently beneath you, the soft creak of wood and distant sounds of the crew murmuring outside the door. but you were alone, tucked beneath a heavy blanket. the infirmary was dimly lit, the faint salty scent of the sea mingling with the sickening one of antiseptic.

suddenly, it all came rushing back - the fight, zoro stepping in front of you, the sword slicing into him. you bolted upright, body sore but heart racing. where was he? was he okay?

“zoro…?” you tried to yell, but your throat was so sore and dehydrated it came out as a silent croak. shit. you couldn’t even call for him.

before you could gather your thoughts, you heard racing footsteps and the door subsequently creaked open. zoro stepped in to fill the frame of the infirmary doorway, panting from the run down there. speak of the devil, you thought to yourself, but as you took him in, light filtering in only from behind his figure, perfectly chiseled features morphed into a face of concern, you couldn’t help but think he looked more like an angel. 

“how’d you know…i woke up?” you mumbled, still very much disoriented. he couldn't have possibly heard you.

“i didn’t,” he came over to sit at your bedside. “just had a feeling.”

you swelled at the sweetness of the coincidence, but deflated almost immediately as you caught sight of his injury. from this angle, you could clearly see his bandaged side, a massive crimson spot already formed on the gauze. the sight of him, alive and standing, had filled you with relief at first, but now you felt something else: hot, sharp anger that twisted in your chest. 

“what the hell were you thinking?” you snapped, throwing off the blanket, wincing as the cold air bit at the burn marks scattered along your thighs. you moved to swing your legs off the bed and stand up, but zoro immediately pushed you down in concern, lightly tracing around the scars with his fingertips. his eyes darted back and forth on each one, furrowed brows morphing into raised ones of guilt as he realised their source. 

“fuck,” he groaned, eyes snapping shut as soon as he felt tears lining the bottom of them. “i did this to you.”

you jerked upright, causing you to scrunch up your face in pain yet again. “what? no, that’s not why i’m mad…”

he blinked, his brow furrowing. “then what...?”

his cluelessness made the fire inside your chest burn brighter. how unaware was he?

“you could’ve died, zoro!” your voice cracked, the weight of what had happened hitting you all at once. “you took that hit so mindlessly…if you had been even a second slower-” your hands trembled as you clenched them into fists, frustration and fear boiling over.

he frowned, his arms crossing over his chest, clearly confused. “you were in danger. i wasn’t gonna just stand there and let you get hurt.”

“no, you could’ve let me handle it,” you shot back. “you can’t keep throwing yourself into the line of fire like that! it’s reckless! i mean, do you realise how that feels? knowing someone could’ve died because of you? i didn’t ask for you to put your whole life on the line for me-”

“ask? baby, the fuck do you mean by ask?” he interjected, voice sharp now, eyes narrowing. “i am never letting you take a hit. not a chance. i don’t care if you ask or not.”

you couldn’t help but admit that the pet name paired with the bold statement made you melt a little, despite the circumstances. after regaining your composure, you continued. “that’s not the point!” your chest was heaving now, the words spilling out before you could stop them. “i don’t want to lose you, zoro. don’t you get that?”

he scoffed, his tone dismissive. “you’re not gonna lose me, sweet. you should know that by now.” his lips quirked up in that cocky, familiar smirk. “i’m gonna be the world’s greatest swordsman, i can’t die before that.”

something in you snapped the moment those words left his mouth. a strangled cry tore from your throat as your fists clenched at your sides, your chest tight with frustration. "listen to me!" you shouted, louder than you intended, your voice breaking with emotion. “i don’t care about your dream, zoro. i care about you."

his eyes widened, momentarily thrown off by your statement. you didn’t care about his dream? but you didn’t stop. “why are you being so selfish?” your voice cracked with the weight of it all, tears stinging at your eyes.

his face hardened, defensive. “it’s not about being selfish-”

“then what the hell is it about?!” you cut him off, fully getting off the bed and stepping forward, your hands trembling. "you’re willing to risk your life for your dream, but have you ever thought about the fact that i need you? that the crew needs you? we’re a team - you don’t have to carry everything on your own!" your voice dropped, softer now, the anger giving way to fear. “and i don’t want to keep wondering if the next fight will be your last. keep living in fear that my incompetence could be the reason for your undoing. do you think your dream’s more important than your life? than us?”

he looked up, at your last sentence, a blind rage, similar to fire coursing through him. “are you…saying…i have to fucking pick?” his voice came out beat by beat, sharp and venomous, like the very idea of it was an insult.

your heart pounded in your chest, panic rising. "no, obviously not-" you backtracked quickly, your eyes darting to his, desperate to get him to understand what you had meant. but the matter was too far gone. his fists were clenched at his sides, his jaw tight.

"it’s only been a few months of us anyway," he said through gritted teeth, his voice low and far too cold. "if you can’t respect my dream, i don’t know if this can work out anymore." 

you felt like you had just been punched in the gut. you let out a massive gasp, stopping in your tracks as a numbness started to make its way through your body. what did he just say? 

your breath caught in your throat, your mind reeling, unable to comprehend the weight of his words. “this can’t work out anymore?” it felt like the ground had fallen out beneath you. you looked up at him, tears welling in your eyes, but he refused to meet your gaze.

his jaw clenched, his muscles tight with frustration, but you could see it - the way his hands shook, the storm raging behind his eyes as he fought against his pride and your words. he was hurt, too. you didn’t know how to continue anymore, so neither of you spoke for the next minute, tension in the air thick and suffocating. then, without another word, he turned on his heel and left the room, the door closing with a soft thud behind him.

that night, you lay in bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, your thoughts spinning endlessly in circles. the room was dark, but it wasn’t the kind of darkness that comforted you. it felt suffocating, like it was pressing down on your chest, making it harder to breathe. the silence in the room was deafening, broken only by the faint creak of the ship as it drifted through the night.

your chest still ached with the weight of everything left unsaid. the words you’d both thrown at each other replayed in your mind, over and over, like a broken record. his cold tone, the harshness in his voice - it had felt so unlike him. and yet, you couldn’t stop hearing it. “if you can’t respect my dream, i don’t know if this can work out anymore.”

the pit in your stomach grew heavier. your heart twisted painfully every time you thought about it. how could he say that? your hands clenched the blanket as if holding onto it could somehow anchor you.

you couldn’t sleep. you didn’t want to sleep. the image of zoro taking that wound for you kept playing in your head - him throwing himself between you and danger without hesitation, the way his body had tensed, how he’d barely flinched even as blood poured from his side. each time the memory replayed, it sent a confusing mix of emotions through you - anger, fear, sadness, and something else. something you didn’t want to admit.

he’d saved you. but at what cost? why did he have to be so damn stubborn, always putting himself on the line without thinking about how it made you feel?

you felt torn apart by conflicting emotions, your thoughts a tangled mess. you were furious with him - for being reckless, for acting like his life didn’t matter, like your feelings didn’t matter. but at the same time, you couldn’t shake the guilt gnawing at you. had you been too harsh? had you pushed him too far? you hadn’t meant to make him feel like his dream wasn’t important. of course, it was. it was everything to him.

and you hated the thought of zoro out there, alone, nursing his wound in silence. was he thinking about you? was he still mad? but this wasn’t just about his pride. this was about you two, about something bigger than just a fight. what if he meant it? what if this really was the end?

the thought sent a cold shiver through you, the possibility more terrifying than any battle you’d ever fought. your heart clenched painfully in your chest, the fear sinking in deeper now. 

you squeezed your eyes shut, trying to block it all out. but the harder you tried, the clearer everything became - the memory of his blood on your hands, the fear you’d felt when you thought he might be seriously hurt. and now the fear of being alone, because that was what you officially were.

“zoro…” you sobbed quietly to yourself, for what felt like the millionth time that night.

suddenly, the door creaked open, so soft you almost missed it. your body tensed, but you kept your eyes shut, your breath steady, pretending to sleep. footsteps padded quietly across the floor, and it was these that gave away the fact that it was him instantly. god, he had to stop doing that, arriving as soon as you spoke his name.

he came over to stand over you, his breathing heavy and uneven. he’d probably been training. that’s what he always did when he was angry or frustrated - push his body until the physical pain outweighed everything else.

“i know you’re mad at me,” he began to whisper, his voice rough and low, almost too quiet to hear. “but i couldn’t - i couldn’t let you get hurt.” 

there was a pause, and you could hear him sigh, the sound full of exhaustion and something else - something more vulnerable than you’d ever heard from him before.

“and i’m sorry,” he said, his voice breaking just a little. he clenched his jaw. “but i’d rather die than lose you.”

your heart soared at his words, the weight of them sinking deep into your chest. you wanted to move, to say something, but you stayed still, your breath caught in your throat. his words from earlier came back to haunt you, sharp and biting. “it’s only been a few months anyway.” the comment had hit you hard at the time, like he was dismissing everything between you, reducing it to something temporary. you’d felt crushed, like you didn’t mean as much to him as his dream.

but the more you thought about it, the more you realised - he hadn’t meant it like that.

zoro wasn’t someone who spoke about his feelings easily. you knew that. and when he did, it often came out wrong, guarded by his pride and that tough exterior. “months” wasn’t a measure of how little you mattered. it was the opposite. it was a measure of how little time it had taken for him to realise that you weren't something fleeting. that you weren’t just someone by his side for a few months. that you were way something more significant, so fast.

it hit you like a wave - the way he looked at you, the way he protected you without a second thought, how he stood by you not just because you were part of the crew, but because you mattered. in his world of unshakable dreams and ironclad will, you were one of the few things that could make him question himself. and that scared him.

he didn’t have to choose between his dream and you. that’s what you had been so afraid of, but now, hearing his words, you knew - he’d never been choosing between the two. you were already part of his dream. the fact that he was terrified of losing you, more than anything, was the reason behind his biting words from before.

currently, you could hear his breathing even out as he came to lay down beside you in force of habit, worn out by his own thoughts. in the silent darkness, the weight of his presence was palpable, the tension in his body easing as sleep began to claim him. just before surrendering to it completely, the memory that you were no longer together surfaced - but he didn’t leave. he couldn’t.

you turned your head slightly, your eyes tracing his slumbering silhouette. seeing him like this, unknowingly exposed to you, made the wall of anger and fear between you begin to melt away. this was when you realised it as well. this wasn’t just a few months of something casual. this…was something real. something he’d never said out loud, but something you knew now, somewhere in your heart.

you stayed still for a few minutes, listening to the steady rhythm of zoro’s breathing as he slept beside you. his presence was heavy, comforting in a way you hadn’t expected after the intensity of the day. but his newer words began to replay in your head, replacing the harsh ones from before. they sunk deeper with every passing second.

“i’d rather die than lose you.”

goddamnit, you couldn’t pretend anymore.

with a shaky breath, you shifted under the covers, turning around toward him. “zoro…” your voice was soft, barely a whisper, but it was enough to stir him from the edge of sleep. his eyes snapped open, his body tensing for a moment before he realized it was you.

“you’re… awake?” he muttered, blinking in surprise, his voice still rough from exhaustion.

“yeah,” you said, sitting up slowly, your heart pounding as you braced yourself for the conversation that had to happen. “and i, uh…i heard everything.”

the swordsman’s eyes widened slightly, his usual stoic mask faltering for just a moment as the weight of what he’d said sunk in. he sat up as well, avoiding your gaze at first, his hands resting on his knees as he stared at nowhere in particular.

“i didn’t mean for you to hear that,” he finallymurmured, voice gruff, a mix of embarrassment and regret. “i-”

“no,” you cut him off, reaching out to place a hand on his shaking arm. “i’m glad i did. because i need to say something too.”

he finally looked at you, his dark eyes searching your face, unsure of what was coming next, but oh so ready.

“i’m sorry,” you said, your voice trembling slightly. “for what i said earlier. i didn’t mean it like that. i never wanted to make you feel like your dream didn’t matter. it does."

you frowned as tears welled in your eyes, guilt hitting you like a tidal wave.

"your dream is so important. especially to me.”

zoro’s expression instantly softened, the tension in his shoulders easing a little. but you could see the conflict still lingering in his eyes, the pain that had been eating at him since the fight.

“but you matter more to me,” you continued, your voice steady, even as your heart pounded in your chest. “so i was scared. i am scared. of losing you, of watching you get hurt because you’re always so willing to throw yourself in front of danger for everyone else. but i know now that it’s because you care, not because you’re selfish and i’m so horrible for saying that.”

his jaw clenched, and for a moment, you thought he might argue, but instead, he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “i’m sorry too,” he said quietly, his voice thick with emotion. “i shouldn’t have said what i did. about us.”

your breath caught in your throat, the memory of his words from earlier still stinging. “did you mean it, at all…?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

he shook his head instantly, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that took your breath away. “no. of course not,” he rushed to say, his voice firm, but still gentle somehow. “i was pissed and... i didn’t know how to handle it. but this - what we have? it’s not just a few months of something. i care about you more than i’ve ever said.”

your heart clenched at his words, your suspicions, or rather, hopes, confirmed. you could see it now - his struggle, the way his pride had gotten in the way, but more than that, the way he felt. this wasn’t just about his dream anymore. it was about the two of you, and everything you’d built together, piece by piece, in those months.

“i love you,” you whispered, tears stinging at your eyes again, but this time they were different - they emanated less from fear and more from an overwhelming sense of relief. “i really hope you know.”

his eyes softened even more, and for a moment, you thought you saw a flicker of vulnerability in them, something raw and unguarded. “i know. and i love you too,” he said, his voice low but steady, like it had been true for a long time. “way more than i’ve been able to say.”

and before you could think, before you could process the weight of it all, you leaned forward, wrapping your arms around him, burying your grinning face in his chest. he tensed for a moment, then slowly, his arms came around you, holding you close.

“i’m so sorry, baby…” he murmured into your hair, his voice rough with emotion. “for making you feel like you weren’t important. you are. you are so goddamn important to me, to the crew, to everyone.”

you pulled back just enough to look up at him, your fingers brushing the side of his face, heart flooding with affection. “we’ll figure this out,” you whispered. “together.”

zoro nodded, his expression serious but soft. “together,” he agreed.

you smiled, the tension between you finally lifting as you leaned into him again, resting your head on his chest. the sound of his heartbeat was steady beneath your ear the same way it was when he saved you, grounding you in the moment.

and as you sat there together, wrapped up in each other, the weight of everything that came before melted away, leaving only the quiet certainty that what you had wasn’t temporary. 

it was real.

it was forever.

and you would grow it, together.

-- ౨ৎ

masterlist

[fanfictionismyaddiction]

Crash Course

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3

word count: 822

pairing: Lando Norris x driver!reader

summary: Y/n returns to the paddock after recovering from her injuries, and Lando confronts her with his growing feelings

______________________________________________________________

The days following the crash were a blur for Y/n, filled with recovery sessions and endless interviews about the accident. The media buzzed with speculation, talking more about the rivalry between her and Lando than about the championship itself. Everyone wanted to know if the tension between them had reached a breaking point.

But Y/n couldn’t stop thinking about what Lando had said. His confession kept replaying in her mind, stirring something she hadn’t allowed herself to feel before. She kept pushing it aside, trying to focus on her recovery and the upcoming races, but it lingered in the back of her thoughts, persistent and confusing.

A few days later, Y/n was back at the paddock, still moving a little stiffly but determined to show everyone she was ready to race again. She walked through the garage, her team bustling around her, making sure everything was in place for the next practice session.

As she sat down to review some data, she felt a presence behind her before she heard the voice.

“Back so soon?” Lando’s voice was light, but she could hear the edge of concern behind it.

Y/n glanced over her shoulder, seeing him leaning casually against the wall, hands in his pockets. He looked relaxed, but his eyes were studying her closely, as if assessing whether she was really okay.

“Did you expect me to stay away?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “I can’t let you have all the fun, can I?”

Lando smirked, pushing off the wall and walking closer. “Just making sure you’re not pushing yourself too hard.”

“I’m fine,” Y/n insisted, though the slight wince as she shifted in her seat betrayed her.

Lando noticed, his eyes narrowing slightly. “You sure about that?”

Y/n sighed, rolling her eyes. “You sound like my doctor.”

“Maybe I should be,” he teased, but there was an underlying sincerity in his tone. “Look, I just… I don’t want to see you get hurt again.”

Y/n paused, the playful banter between them losing its edge. There it was again—that concern, that softness. She wasn’t used to this version of Lando, and it made her feel off-balance.

“Why do you care so much?” she asked quietly, looking up at him.

Lando hesitated, his playful smile fading. He glanced around to make sure no one was within earshot before sitting down on the chair next to hers. “Because I meant what I said, Y/n. After the crash, when you almost collapsed… I realized how much I care. More than I probably should.”

Her heart skipped a beat, the air around them growing thick with tension. “Lando…”

“I know we’re rivals,” he continued, his voice low and serious. “And we’re both fighting for the championship, but… that doesn’t change how I feel.”

Y/n’s pulse quickened, her thoughts racing. This was happening—he was actually saying it, putting into words what had been unspoken between them for so long. She opened her mouth to respond, but no words came out. How could she explain the way she felt, when she wasn’t even sure herself?

Seeing her hesitation, Lando sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Look, I get it. This is complicated. And if you don’t feel the same way, we can forget it—”

“No,” Y/n interrupted, her voice firm. She took a deep breath, gathering her thoughts. “It’s not that. I just… I’ve been so focused on beating you, on proving I’m the best, that I didn’t stop to think about anything else.”

Lando’s eyes softened, a glimmer of hope flickering in his expression. “And now?”

Y/n looked at him, the weight of her feelings settling in her chest. “Now, I’m starting to realize there’s more to this than just the rivalry.”

For a moment, they sat in silence, the noise of the paddock fading into the background as they looked at each other, a silent understanding passing between them. The tension that had always existed between them was still there, but it had changed—shifted into something neither of them had expected.

Lando leaned in slightly, his voice barely above a whisper. “So… what now?”

Y/n swallowed hard, her heart racing. She knew they couldn’t just flip a switch and change everything. They were still competitors, still fighting for the same title. But maybe—just maybe—they could be something more, too.

“I guess we see what happens,” she replied softly, her eyes locking with his.

Lando’s lips curled into a small smile. “I like the sound of that.”

Before they could say anything else, Y/n’s team called her over for a briefing. She stood up, feeling Lando’s eyes on her as she turned to leave. Just before she walked away, she glanced back at him, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

Maybe this wasn’t the end of their rivalry—but it could be the beginning of something else. Something that neither of them had been prepared for, but now seemed impossible to ignore.

[bbyangyl]

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚— EASE YOUR MIND- DEKU | IZUKU MIDORIYA

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚— description: after inviting you to an event, izuku has a difficult time deciding if "a date" would be the right term to use.

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚— w.c: 2.1k

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚— tags: sfw (however, my blog isn't!), fluff, very soft, deku is basically in love with you but overthinks like CRAZY

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚— a/n: here's something that has been sitting in my drafts for a while now. I actually have a lot written so you'll be seeing a lot from me soon :) I just need time to edit a few things. please stay tuned!

deku was sweating

he was sweating so much that his palms felt drenched, struggling to discreetly wipe them against his pants, hoping you wouldn’t notice. you walked beside him, wearing a smile that outshined the sun.

he doesn’t know how he got here, with you. the only thing he could recall from the events of his spiraling and panicking brain when he asked if you wanted to go with him to a “history of heroes” event, where he scored two tickets for, were your bright, excited eyes and lovely smile when you agreed to go with him.

and then, he was sure he messed it all up when, for some reason, his mouth moved faster than his brain and said “I’m so glad! It’s a date then”

he didn’t mean for the words to be heard aloud. and through his stammering voice and flushed cheeks, he tried so hard to make an excuse; to distract you from the fact that he just called it a date. which meant he asked you out on a date.

but instead of gazing at him in confusion or uncertainty, (or worse, disgust), you simply giggled, nodding as you gathered your belongings before heading out to the dorms.

“it’s a date” you said, walking away from his frozen figure that decided to stay in place on its own accord, processing the three words you repeated back to him.

you said yes, despite him calling it a date, but did you really consider it a date? or did you know he accidentally called it that and you just went along with it, even though he truly did want to go on a date with you. but he never thought you’d ever go on a date with him. and even if he intentionally asked you out, he wasn’t sure a first date with you to a hero event was good enough. You seemed excited for it, should he plan something else?

as he looked up at your retreating figure, he noticed the way you look back at him, with soft eyes and a pretty smile before turning around, continuing to walk away.

he felt his brain short circuit, as you leave him with nothing but blooming red cheeks, shaky legs, and thoughts of you.

as the day of the event arrives, after thirty minutes spent rehearing how to approach you and what words to say, a soft knock unexpectedly echoes on his own door, before being opened slightly.

and he begins to sweat.

there you were, in a cute sundress, looking at him with such a sweet expression on your face. he felt his hands slightly trembling, his heart practically soaring through the air in a fluttering mess. he felt like a fish, mouth opening and closing as he tried to think of what to say. anything at all! at least a hello.

he didn’t trust himself, however. deku had a tendency to ramble and mumble, and he had an small feeling that a simple ‘hello’ would turn into ‘you’re the most beautiful girl in the world’, or something more than he was ready to admit

it was difficult to form words anyways, when just the sight of you is enough to leave him breathless, unable to think about anything else but the fact that you were here, ready to go out with him…

to an event that he had called a date, and you seemed happy to agree...

he felt his face burn, and one part of him believed that the temperature could’ve rivaled todoroki’s quirk.

“hey! I’m sorry if I interrupted you, I just wanted to let you know that I’m ready! If you’d like I can wait in the common area while you’re done.” you say, playing with the straps of your backpack.

he laughs nervously. “o-okay, yeah. I just need to grab a few things and we can head out” he feels his voice get shaky towards the end, and quickly he turns around, flustered, as he pretends to try and find something on top of his bed.

he hears a small laugh from you, before announcing you’ll be waiting for him over there. as your footsteps indicate you walking away, deku immediately lets out the tremulous breath he didn’t realize he was holding in.

the thought of being around you, without the confirmation of what this “outing” was considered to be, caused his nerves to skyrocket. he hated second-guessing, and couldn’t bear the embarrassment he would feel if he treated today as a date, only to find out you thought he was joking, or vise versa.

despite the inner conflicts in his overworking mind, he, at least, was certain of one thing. he invited you and you said yes, and you were now waiting for him in the common area.

with a small, unsteady sigh, he starts to relax a bit. everything will be fine. he’ll take you to the event, and you’ll both have an amazing time, free from his overthinking.

at least, that was the plan.

it’s a bit easier said than done, especially in this circumstance, where his mind is on endless overdrive, hanging out with a girl who practically hung the stars in his eyes.

he felt awkward, realizing that not a single word had been exchanged between the two of you since leaving the dorms. he tried to think of something to say, but the probability of stumbling over his words as he tried to start conversation was unfortunately high.

each step he took felt unnatural, as if every movement was a forced effort, desperately trying to match the light, effortless way you walked beside him toward the museum.

it only made things more complicated when deku realized he couldn’t even bring himself to look at you; it was too overwhelming. but the brief glances he stole, seeing you smile softly as you took in your surroundings, only made the fluttering in his heart grow stronger.

he was sweating

but luckily for him, you were the one to break the ice.

“y’know, I’m actually a bit shocked you invited me out, midoriya” you say softly, glancing at the ground with a small smile on your face. deku turns to you, feeling his hands trembling against his side, wondering if you’ll bring up his embarrassing ‘it’s a date’ declaration.

“what…uhm…what do you mean?” he asks, feeling his voice crack. immediately he feels his face grow hot, watching as you glance at him with a small laugh, no trace of teasing, just amusement.

“it’s just, we’re friends, obviously-“ you begin to clarify, and he can’t help but feel his heart drop slightly, despite that being the facts. “but…I don’t know, you were always so close with ochako, iida, todoroki and our other classmates. we don’t interact as much.”

it was the truth. deku never had much trouble talking or hanging out with his classmates. he was extremely close with a few and, at the very least, felt comfortable around all of them, even with bakugo. deku was proud of how far he had come from his middle school days, now able to talk freely and be himself. he felt lucky. but with you, things were slightly different.

he always caught himself rehearsing what to say before starting a conversation. he’d stumble over his words, his face flushing red during any interaction. just a glance in your direction was enough to turn him to mush. in some ways, you made him feel like his middle school self again; timid and nervous. but the reasonings couldn’t be more different.

“I actually wanted to get closer to you, but funny enough I was always kinda shy around you.” suddenly, he halts any movement. did that come from him? that wasn’t his voice. his eyes widen as he realizes that came from you. shy? around him? really?

“what?!” It was difficult to wrap his head around the fact. all this time he was so focused on how to interact normally with you, never once did he take the time to analyze any interaction you had with him and deem it as shy. you were always so happy and kind, and anyone with eyes could see how much he fumbled through the smallest of conversations with you. the thought that maybe you were also shy around him too, made his heart skip a beat.

he watched as you turn to him, cheeks blooming a pretty pink, like the petals of a cherry blossom fluttering through the air. “yeah…i mean…we talked every now and then. not as often, but you were always so kind despite our limited conversations. I never really reached out to you because I was always a little nervous around you, unable to get a clear picture of how you felt about me.”

you take a small step forward, and he immediately notices the slight hesitation in your movement, as if there was more you wanted to say but weren’t sure if you should. he catches the way you try to meet his gaze but become a little flustered, and how your fingers fidget with the straps of your book bag.

deku had always been so perceptive; picking up on body language and mannerisms with ease. but he never realized how similar the two of you were in your interactions. he was always focused on not looking like a fool in front of you; a blushing mess. Yet now, seeing the flustered look in your eyes instead, he felt himself melt on the spot, fighting the urge to kiss your cheeks.

“when you invited me to the hero event, I couldn’t help but feel happy! and…I felt over the moon when you called it a date. even if you didn’t mean to call it that l-“ you pause, before giving him a gentle smile “-it still made me very happy.”

he gazes at you, momentarily questioning if his mind is deceiving him, conjuring up a hopeful illusion. but as he watches you nervously bite your lip, awaiting his response, the reality of the moment sinks in. he feels his heart flutter in his chest, and the weight of your words sends a shiver through his entire body. “you wanted it to be a date?”

“Is it weird if I said more than anything?” you confess, shyly looking at the ground with uncertainty and anxiousness. he feels himself physically vibrate with excitement, hearts practically forming in his eyes as he steps closer, unable to hold back the confession on the tip of his tongue.

“I-I want that too! I want this to be considered an actual date!” he exclaims with happiness pouring out of his soul, feeling his cheeks become slightly sore from his smile. you look up at him, a shocked expression on your face as you slowly process his words. he watches in time the way your features soften, beautiful eyes widening slightly as you let out a gentle gasp.

“really?” you ask, as he feels the joy practically radiating off of you. deku nods in confirmation, hands trembling from overwhelming delight. he meets your gently gaze, as you both stare at each other with bashful grins before a small laugh escapes your lips, followed by a domino effect of uncontainable giggles between you and him.

he feels lighter, almost euphoric; his entire body buzzing with warmth that radiates from his flushed cheeks, offering a new kind of comfort he’d never known before. he was always used to feel shy around you, his heart brimming with so much love and admiration that he could barely meet your gaze. but now, that love has multiplied, and all he wants is to lose himself in your eyes for as long as you’ll let him.

you step to the side, offering him one last smile before the two of you begin to walk in sync. it no longer feels out of place. just right.

“can I hold your hand?” he asks, a hint of the familiar shyness still laced in his words. but this time, there’s a newfound confidence beneath it. he’s certain you feel it too as you beam at him, gently intertwining your soft fingers with his calloused, scarred hand.

“you know…I…all this time, I was kinda freaking out! I didn’t know if this was actually a date or not, and I was extremely nervous this whole time. I’m sorry if things were a little awkward when we left the dorms” you look at him with reassurance; an amused giggle leaving your lips as you shake your head.

“please don’t apologize. I couldn’t even tell!”

[destinationtrekk]

young wesker who gets drunk and giggly with reader. at first he had been so... cold, so expressionless and absolutely cluelessly bone-dry on how to go about doing anything but a daylight two-step move-his-arms-a-little to the dance music blaring from somewhere, but that's okay, reader can show him.

and he enjoys it... and he's laughing, and his face is flushed, and the scent of vodka is deep on his tongue, and he has severely miscalculated his drink, but that's okay, because reader keeps him safe and happy and distracted the entire time.

at the end, as he begins to sober up, they can't seem to get out of him where he's supposed to go to now (perhaps he is trying to revel in it, this one normalcy, just one event he took on to learn how to behave like everyone else and got taught more about himself and his own interests than he'd ever planned, a snapshot of a life he could have lived if only--) so they take him back to their house and snuggle him up in a blanket burrito on the couch, making him drink water, take an advil, a tylenol.

and as he gets back to himself and they smoke a cig, talking about life as he gets rather quiet and inward again (for he cannot share, he has nothing positive or appropriate to), they do something unexpected and yet wholly welcome, a gift to close out the night: they give him a quick, brief and fleeting shotgun kiss, hand warm on his cheek, before they send him off for a nap, telling him to stay the night so he'll be well and sober the next day to depart. free breakfast if he's still around by then, otherwise, they take no offense.

he has no way of telling them the truth of this fragile matter. he has no way of divulging his life, which would undoubtedly ruin whatever scrapbook memory he is currently creating, and certainly no way to hold onto this awfully pleasant being who he can, apparently, trust in his total ineptitude with heavy inebriance. and he can't keep seeing them again after this. and his view on how ruthless and manipulative human beings are when faced with vulnerability has been shaken to its' core, and he can't say it, and he wants to, but...

instead he asks them to stay a little while he falls asleep (just one final, little test, he muses to himself), and they oblige. he's laid on the couch, head in their lap, his (admittedly not quite so soft after all the gel has hardened) hair being carded through by soft, ever-eager, sleepy fingers. he will never get a moment like this again and he pushes himself to take it in, revel in every second that passes, commit to absolute memory (no matter what he had earlier in the day) every detail of this sightly, sweetly saint's face.

he ends up falling asleep feeling cherished. he will remember this day forever. years to come he will still have tabs on this person, and their life will still be unexpectedly, oddly lucky.

maybe one day he'll find it in him to thank them properly, face-to-face...

nshtn can i say i love you? because i love you and every time you come in my inbox i get so excited

first and foremost i don't think he even would dance at a party. he very much is the kind of guy to find a spot and linger there with a group he's only half listening to. once he meets you though his night gets much much more interesting

he's never really had chances to drink, except maybe whiskey or something expensive with Spencer during their talks about Umbrella and the future, so when you start handing him all kinds of seltzers and mixed drinks and straight shots of vodka, he is very overwhelmed

he can't show it though! so he dutifully takes most of what you hand him, a few drinks are two sweet for him, and he is very quickly wasted tbh. you're so nice though, and you drag him in the middle of everyone dancing and show him a few easy things and soon enough he's bouncing around with everyone else

every time he starts to think about what's going to happen tomorrow you're immediately there to distract him. it's almost like you can read his mind - you know just the right things to say and how to push people out of the way and he just thinks you're perfect under the flashing lights

finally when it's time to go home, he knows for a fact he can't show up at his place looking messed up as he is - what if Spencer or Birkin or some nameless Umbrella employee saw him and ratted him out? so he takes your offer to go to your house gracefully as he can this drunk

he knows now that you're a party expert, you immediately make him drink water and wash his face and take preemptive tylenol for the hangover. your fleeting kiss and warm hands on his sweaty skin are so sweet he can't bear to think about it longer than he has to. he knows he should leave before you wake up tomorrow and forget this wonderful night ever happened (he'll never forget you, not even on his deathbed)

you give him every courtesy and kindness you can offer and he decides to take just one more, one last sweet touch to take with him into the night. you smile sleepily and open your arms for him to fall into - the blanket covering his shoulders is a little too hot and you both smell like beer and liquor and sweat but your lap is so soft, it makes the ache in his back and shoulders from carrying the world lessen a bit, and your fingers in his hair send him into a beautiful and silent sleep

the next morning it physically pains him to untangle from your body on the couch. he stands and watches you for a moment, his heart clenching and pounding in his chest, until he forces himself out the door before you can feel his absence.

when he meets you again, what feels like a thousand years later, his heart pounds just the same. you recognize him, his twisted dark smirk and deep eyes, and when you smile and say his name he's suddenly twenty-something all over again and dizzy and drunk in your arms - he never wants to leave you again

[jewish-vents]

i’m a teacher and i had a kid draw a swastika in my classroom on like. the second day of school. so one of our admin came in to two of my classes the next day to talk about it. and she started by telling this story about how she had a hijabi student. and a boy in the class was “really curious about what her hair looked like.” and had the students guess what happened next (pulled the hijab off, gross and awful) and how that might have made the hijabi student feel. at this point i’m sitting at my desk like “it’s been five minutes are we going to talk about the swastika” and then she finally goes “yesterday someone drew a symbol that represents division. and hate. and those aren’t things we stand for” and a kid (of course) was like what was it? and this fucking woman turns to me and goes “are you comfortable sharing what it was?”

?????? i thought that’s why you were here?? i thought you were here to explain why swastikas are not okay, and we are seven minutes into your little presentation and you haven’t said the word swastika or even jewish. so i said it was a swastika and several of the kids didn’t know what that was. which was disturbing on its own as i teach middle school but i digress. i said no way in hell am i drawing one so my admin looks at me and is like “could you google a picture?”

can’t believe i did this but i didn’t know what else to do in the moment so i pulled up a google image search of swastikas and projected it on the board. at no point did the admin say “hey you can take that down now” it just sat up there until i got uncomfortable and sick to my stomach enough to close it myself. and then she came back the next period and did the WHOLE song and dance again (no jewish, no antisemitism, not even the word NAZI which is insane to me) and STILL told the opening story about the hijabi girl even with two hijabi girls sitting in the class this time who were clearly uncomfortable.

this was like three weeks ago and it’s been quietly bothering me for a while and i finally told my (nonjewish) work friends about it and they were all like “holy shit that’s so fucked that she asked you to do that” and i told my (jewish) partner and he went “she couldn’t have picked up a fucking marker??” and that was when it really hit me.

maybe she didn’t want to be in a situation where she drew a swastika on a jewish teachers whiteboard. ok. but she apparently didn’t consider the WORSE implications of asking that same jewish teacher to google an image of a swastika and project a google image search of a page FULL of swastikas on her board.

AND she never once checked in with me after that. she left the class without talking to me again and hasn’t said a word about it since. i remember i even asked her “do you want me to leave the room” beforehand because im thinking i don’t want to have to look at swastikas but she asked me to stay because “the impact is real and they need to see it” which. uh. i’ve been pushing this experience down for weeks bc at the end of the day it “wasn’t that bad” but like. holy shit. she really wanted to put my trauma on display for the students instead of just asking me to leave and explaining what a swastika is/showing them one. and it took her nearly ten minutes to get to the actual swastika!! i’m just. so done

.

[bellysoupset]

Posting this and running away

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

"What is this?" Jonah chuckled, gesturing vaguely to the image in front of him. This was easily the weirdest thing he had seen in a while.

Leo was inside the bathtub, with no water, in the middle of the day, wearing just his boxers, head leaning back and scrolling in his ipad.

"Hey," the blonde turned his head slightly, voice all soft, "missed you."

How could Jon not melt around this man? He entered further in the bathroom, crouching down to kiss his fiancé and Leo grimaced and pulled back, causing Jonah to whine, "what the hell?"

"You don't wanna kiss me," Leo cringed, "I ate something weird and it messed with me. I just puked," he gestured vaguely to the closed toilet with his head. Jonah raised his eyebrows, surprised.

Leo didn't look sick... But now that Jon looked closer he could tell the sweat clinging to his temples and over his lip. Instead of pale, he was flushed in a slightly unnatural way, specially given how cold their bathroom was.

"Is that why you're in the tub?"

"Yeah, still feel pukey," Leo groaned and slid down in the tub, resting his feet on the opposite end and dropping his ipad to the side. Now that it was no longer blocking Jonah's view, he could tell his fiance's abs were slightly bloated, the usual line separating its quadrants all but faded, "I don't know what's wrong with my office, you'd think such a fancy building would have a decent catering."

Jonah grinned, collapsing down on his ass instead of staying crouched down and leaned in to push Leo's hair back, away from his sweaty forehead. The blonde let out a happy noise at the hair pet, "why don't you come to bed? You can feel sick in the bedroom, where it's comfy."

Leo snorted at that, turning his head so his cheek was pressed to the cold rim of the tub and going boneless as Jonah petted his hair, "bedroom feels too warm, was making me claustrophobic."

"And the bathtub is not?"

"You may question my methods, but not my results," Leo smiled, looking up at him and grabbing the ditched iPad, "I want a March wedding."

"Okay?" Jon moved on the bathroom floor, stripping the thick wool vest he was wearing over his shirt and removing his belt so he was more comfortable, throwing them on top of the sink, "why March?"

"Because I don't wanna wait until October next year," Leo pouted, turning on the screen. Before Jon could question why March and October were the only options, Leo said, "I made a pinterest board."

Jonah couldn't stop smiling, it was embarrassing and hurting his cheek muscles, "you made a pinterest board," he echoed, amused and endeared to hell and back. Leo glared at him, pushing the iPad in his hands.

"Stop looking at me with this stupid smile and look at the board," he tapped the screen, then curled up with a grimace and planted a hand on his stomach, pressing slightly and bringing up a sick burp, "god..."

"Should I move from the line of fire?" Jonah squinted at Leo, noticing the way he was gulping down.

The man shook his head, taking another gulp, "swallowing air," he cleared up, "not gagging."

"Counter intuitive if your stomach hurts, no?"

"Trying to burp," Leo cleared up with a strained voice, digging his fingers in his tummy, until another little sickly burp came up, "urgh, it's stuck."

"My husband, the romantic," Jonah teased him with an eyeroll, then scooted closer, "sit up, let me thump your back."

"Like a baby?" Leo snorted, but obeyed and let out a pleased noise as Jonah started doing exactly that. A couple pats in and he brought up a large, brassy belch.

"UUruorup- Fuck, that felt nice," he hung his head between his knees, breathing out in relief, "look at the board."

"Bossy," Jonah glared at the side of his head, then actually looked at the board. It was a collection of farmhouse weddings and hotels and event-centers... None of it looked very Leo, "uhm- these are the ones you liked?"

"You hate them," Leo sighed, "I don't know, everything I'm able to find is either those ultra girly things that only Wendy could like or, if I search for gay-wedding, it's like they're competing to see who can be more cringy."

Jonah cackled at the bitchiness, earning himself a smile, "this is nice," he leaned against the tub, all but sprawled on the bathroom floor and pointing a picture of a tall, reflective ballroom. Leo draped himself over the edge, squinting at the screen.

"That's a cathedral, Jonah," Leo said dryly, "I'm not gonna get married in a church, thanks."

Jon let out a scoff, "it's in your board!"

"As inspiration! Because I like-" he cut himself off with a nauseated gulp, "the-the tall ceilings..." Leo's voice trailed off and he raised a hand to his mouth, the other one darting up so Jonah could help him up.

Jon was up in a flash, grabbing Leo's hand to hoist him up and leaving the iPad on top of their sink, while the blonde fell to his knees before the toilet and gagged weakly over the water.

He cringed in sympathy as Leo retched and a thin dribble of colored in spit fell in the water, causing him to say in a thick, nauseated voice, "Oh god..." then gag once more, bringing up a mouthful of frothy, beige vomit. Jonah gulped down against the knot in his throat, forcing his gaze away and planted a hand on Leo's naked back. He was covered in cold sweat, muscles seizing under Jon's hand as he continued to heave for another five minutes.

Leo let another sickly burp, the groaned and collapsed forward, causing Jonah to scramble to grab him by the shoulter, "don't split your head open, Leo!"

"Uhhmm, wasn't gonna..." He scoffed, pressing his forehead to the cold porcelain, "I still feel so queasy..."

Jonah hit the flush, then combed his fingers through Leo's sweaty bangs, touching his cheek and forehead inconspicuously. He wasn't feverish and Leo let out a little snort, "I know what you're doing, Dr. Banks..." he blew out another soft burp, "I wanna go to bed but I'm all sweaty..."

"Couch?" Jonah suggested and Leo lifted up his head, considering it for a minute before nodding.

"Yeah okay, help me up..."

It was a bigger hassle than expected, as Leo washed his face and brushed his teeth, only for the toothbrush to send him into another gagging fit, but eventually they managed to move into the living room and Leo collapsed down on the cushions with a sigh, "Jon..."

"I know, I know," he grinned, sitting next to the man and planting his hand on his boyfriend's bloated belly, "tummy rub."

"You're the love of my life," Leo said in a pleased tone, eyes slipping closed as Jonah started rubbing his hand in a soft, gentle circle over his distended abs. It wasn't much of a massage, but he was afraid of putting too much pressure, with all the angry gurgling going on inside.

JD, who had been very busy chasing her toy mice, perked up at the sudden company and jumped on the couch as well, meowing and stepping on Leo's thigh in order to headbutt Jonah's chin.

"She's ignoring me," Leo groaned, pressing a hand on his stomach, "I stepped on her tail earlier."

"Well, I can't blame her," Jonah scoffed, kissing the top of JD's head, "Leo didn't mean it, baby."

As if she understood him, JD crawled on Jon's lap, nuzzling the inside of his arm and letting out a happy meow. Leo opened his eyes to glare at the cat, pouting.

"It was an accident! I was rushing in," his stomach let out a loud growl and he squirmed, gulping down, "Jon..."

"Shit, give me a second," Jonah sprung up, taking JD with him, and rushed to their kitchen, in order to grab a bowl. By the time he made it back, ten seconds later, Leo had his eyes squeezed shut and was breathing slowly through his mouth as if he was giving birth.

"Here, here, here-" Jon pushed the bowl under his chin and Leo grabbed it with sweaty fingers, but didn't immediately retch. Jonah cringed, planting JD down and moving so he wasn't directly looking at the bowl, but could help Leo hold it up, "baby?"

A nauseated hiccup shook the blonde's frame and he let out a moan, leaning forward and drooling over the bowl, "fuck..." he cleared his throat, taking a deep breath, "my stomach hurts."

Jonah frowned, not liking this one bit. He hated the strong feeling of concern, over something so dumb like food poisoning, but he couldn't help it. Leo worried him always.

"Leo, no, don't do that!" Jonah groaned, as he realized his fiancee was shoving a finger down his throat to trigger his gag reflex, "don't force it-"

Leo shook his head, pulling back his hand and burping wetly over the bowl, "I can feel it in my stomach..." his voice was thick with queasiness and he hiccupped again, his belly letting out a disgusting wet sound, "Urgh, fuck..."

"Can I h-" he never finished that sentence, as there was a sudden wet noise in the back of Leo's throat and the blonde folded in half, projectile vomiting in the bowl.

He hung over it, panting as if he had just ran a marathon, before letting out a dainty little burp and another impressive stream of sick fell from his lips. Leo let out a whimper, coughing, then sighed, "Holy fuck... I feel tons better," he said hoarsely, causing Jonah to let out a disbelieving snort.

"Are you sure?" Jon scoffed, biting down a gag of his own, his mouth watering like crazy at the gruesome sight. Leo nodded, forcing up another burp.

"Yeah... Like crazy better," he rolled his shoulders, then let out a whine, "aw angel, you look grey. Sit down, I can clean this up-"

"No, I'm o-Oo-" Jonah interrupted himself with a retch and Leo let out a little giggle, planting a kiss in the inside of his wrist, since his boyfriend was sitting on the couch's arm, and slowly getting up.

"You're fine, uh?" He chuckled quietly, grabbing the bowl and gingerly walking to the bathroom to empty it out. Jon let out a humiliated sigh, sitting down on the couch and staring at his feet. He thought he was over this, he hated when Leo was feeling sick and his body decided to attention seek.

His belly clenched and he brought up a little sickly burp, breathing out slowly against the prickles of nausea... "Hey," Leo crouched in front of him, between Jon's knees, "you're okay? Are you sure it's just sympathy sickness?"

"Yep," Jon gulped down, nodding, "are you-"

"Really, I'm fine. That's on me for being too lazy to cross the street to go to the restaurant that I know won't make me ill," Leo rolled his eyes, leaning in and hugging Jonah by the waist.

In this weird position, with his boyfriend down to his knees in the rug, it was easy for Leo to drop his face to his lap and Jonah leaned back, starting to pet the golden waves of hair, "don't take this badly," he said slowly, while Leo sat down on the ground, leaning his head back to keep getting his hair petted, "but you suck at event planning."

Leo let out an offended huff, but didn't say anything and Jonah folded in half to kiss his forehead upside down, "I'm gonna take this from you and I'll scout for a location, okay? You worry about the damn flowers or what not."

"Anything more inconsequential you wanna hand me?" Leo pouted, causing Jon to grin and kiss the tip of his nose.

"Test me and I'll put you on water duty," he teased, before falling back against the couch, "so March?"

"Yeah, March," Leo smiled, then let out a little pleased sigh as JD sniffled his hand and came to sit on his lap.

[horny-p0et]

incelbur blurb part four

the support on this little series has been amazing, i want to thank all of you for the likes, comments and reblogs. that support and exposure encourages me to post more and improve as a writer. so thank you. genuinely c:

also this is the longest part yet and an apology to everyone who was upset y/n didn't kiss wilbur last part lol.

part one + part two + part three

warnings: alcohol, masturbation, noncon somnophilia

wordcount: 2503

dont like, dni. please just block me and move on.

────୨ৎ────

INCELBUR who avoided you for two weeks to punish you for breaking his heart. he was furious at you, but angrier at himself. he wasn't surprised you didn't like him, no one does. and they shouldn't like him, he's an ugly piece of shit. he told his professor he was sick to skip your classes together, he couldn't see or smell you again because he'd get on his knees and beg for the forgiveness he doesn't deserve.

INCELBUR who still kept an eye on your social media, obsessing over every scrap of information he could find. he wanted to know if you were upset, if you were struggling. but you just looked as happy and carefree as you always do. it was like salt in his wounds, seeing you laughing and smiling with your friends, enjoying life in a way he doesn't know how too.

INCELBUR who got a message from you after two weeks, ignoring the notification for a few hours before curiosity got the best of him. its an apology of sorts, reminding him that you care about him. it makes his heartrate increase but he knows there has to be something more, you have to be hiding something. because if you cared about him you wouldn't hurt him like this. you ask if he wants to game with you, and he knows he should say no. he should tell you to fuck off and die, but he doesn't. he says yes. he doesn't know who he is without you.

INCELBUR who tries to put his walls up now that you guys are talking again, bury his feelings in his shoes and just be satisfied with a friendship. but he isn't. he wants you to be his girlfriend, to be owned by him. he'd be happy if you loved him, he knows you could fix him. make him a better man, teach him to love himself, he wishes he deserved your love. he knows he doesn't.

INCELBUR who drinks until his vision blurs when he see's you at another bar, another night out having fun without him. you post a photo of your little black dress and it makes him so hard he thinks he might pass out because of the lack of blood in his brain. all he wants to do is rip it off and explore your body with his hands and mouth, show you what a good lover he could be. he knows he shouldn't but before he can stop himself he calls you, his fingers fumbling on the phone screen.

"wilbur? do you need something?"

".... you. needed to hear your voice, need you to tell me you still like me."

"of course i still like you, wilbur. i've always liked you."

"why? why do you fucking like me? i'm disgusting, and you're perfect and happy. everything i'm not."

INCELBUR who feels like crying when you reassure him he isn't disgusting, tell him that you think he's sweet and cute. you tell him he's funny and way better than you at call of duty, and way smarter than he gives himself credit for. he asks you how you stay happy when the world is so awful all the time, how do you stay so beautiful when everything else is broken.

INCELBUR who doesn't believe it when you tell him you aren't perfect. he can't understand when you open up and tell him you don't feel beautiful, how you hate the way you look in the mirror and aren't happy everyday. how can you be sad? do you not see the goddess on earth in the mirror when you wake up? he hates hearing your insecurities, you shouldn't feel as bad as he does. it isn't fair, you don't deserve that.

INCELBUR who like he's been punched in the chest when you offer to come over to his house that night, ditch your friends to make sure he's okay. he hates that his first thought if you coming over to fuck him, sucking his dick to make him feel better. he knows that isn't what you're offering, you just want to come over and look after a friend. but a man can dream.

INCELBUR who agrees, scrambling to clean his room before you get there. he throws as much rubbish as he can into the bin until its overflowing, shoving his piles of dirty clothes into his wardrobe and shutting the door. he sees the way his sheets are stained and wishes he had time to throw them in the wash, you deserve better than the disgusting man cave he rots in for days at a time. you should have a castle and lush fabrics, not him. anything is better than him.

INCELBUR who thanks god his mum is away on a work conference when you show up, he's embarrassed by the fact he still lives with her in his 20's but he doesn't know how to take care of himself. he can't cook, doesn't know how to save money or do his laundry properly. he apologises for the mess, you tell him it's okay and you don't care. but you should care, he's a slob.

"sorry about coming over on such short notice, i just wanted to make sure you didn't do something stupid."

"i called you when you were busy with your friends, that was pretty stupid."

"well, yeah but you needed some help. there isn't anything wrong with that. you know you can always call me when you need help, that's what friends do."

"... i guess so. i'm just not used to having friends at all. i don't want to make people deal with my shitty existence."

"if i didn't want to deal with your existence i wouldn't have bothered talking to you at all, mate."

INCELBUR who thinks you are an angel. that's the only logical reason you make him feel this good. you sit on his bed listening to some music, and he finds himself opening up about all the things he's kept hidden. his absent father, his insecurities about his body, his paranoia that everyone is out to get him, his innate need for validation and love. you thank him for opening up and put your hand on his bicep, squeezing gently. he hates that such a simple gesture of love makes his dick stiffen in his sweatpants.

INCELBUR who listens when you tell him about your problems. how you worry about the future, distracting yourself with partying so you can ignore that voice in the back of your head that says you're a disappointment. he wishes he could press a button that would make you feel better, even if the button only worked once he would use it on you instead of himself.

INCELBUR who tells you he's a virgin, how he hasn't had a girlfriend or even kisses anyone before. he wants too, badly. any form of intimacy he craves like a drug he's never even had. it makes him insecure knowing how everyone around him did it years ago. it makes him feel like the biggest loser in the world. you remind him there's more to life than finding love but he doesn't believe it. he knows he would be happy if someone loves him, because then maybe he could love himself.

"honestly my first kiss was awful, it was with some guy when i was thirteen at school. if i'd waited for someone who actually cared about me it would have been more memorable."

"i guess, but at least you had someone who wanted to kiss you. no one has ever wanted to kiss me."

"... you sure?"

INCELBUR who thinks this must be some cruel joke when you offer to kiss him. he knows you've been drinking tonight, and you just feel sorry for him and his sad life so you're throwing him a bone. but even knowing all that he says yes, god yes. he can't say no to you, he'd jump off a sky scraper for you. you tell him the kiss doesn't mean anything and it'll help him get over that desire if he just does it, and see's its just a thing. a physical action and not some giant, life changing event.

INCELBUR who forgets to breath when you put your hand on his cheek, he can smell your perfume and the alcohol on his breath and he think's he's suffocating, drowning in you. then you kiss him. your lips are soft, gentle, loving. his hands find your shoulders, his fingers dig into the skin, he can feel the bones and muscles underneath and he knows he's already in too deep.

INCELBUR who could have died when your tongue slides against his bottom lip, gently asking for entry. he lets you, of course. why shouldn't he? he wishes he had brushed his teeth that morning but if he tasted bad you don't pull away, instead your hand moves from his cheek to grip the curls at the nape of his neck and tilt your head to the side to deepen the kiss.

INCELBUR who's cock is so hard it hurts, the outline so clear in his pants but he can't bring himself to be embarrassed. he's kissing you, his first kiss is with the most gorgeous woman on the planet and she's kissing him back. His hands move on his own, moving from your shoulders to your waist, one gripping the fabric of your dress while the other snakes up to palm your breast. he moans into your mouth, his body shaking with anticipation of anything else, of more of you. all of you.

INCELBUR who whines when you pull away, giving him a small smile. you sit back but he doesn't move his hands, he isn't ready to let you go. he asks to kiss you again, and you chuckle. you tell him you're happy to make out some more but you aren't fucking him, he's too drunk. he wants to protest and tell you it doesn't fucking matter if he's intoxicated, if he was sober he would just be drunk on your lips instead. but he stops himself, he'll accept more kisses if it means you stay with him a little longer.

INCELBUR who makes out with you on his bed for what could have been hours or minutes, he can't tell. you grip his wrist to pull his hand away when it tries to sneak up your dress, so he grabs your ass instead. you're lying on top of him, your warmth seeping into his bones. eventually though, it stops and you get off him. he opens his mouth to demand you get back on him but suddenly you're asking to crash the night. now he knows he is dreaming.

INCELBUR who agrees, how can he resist you? he feels like such a slob knowing you'll be sleeping in his gross sheets but you asked, you know what you're getting into. he offers you one of his shirts to sleep in and he can't wipe the grin off his face when you agree. you disappear into the bathroom and when you come out you're just in his shirt and your panties, the fabric hanging around your thighs. his cock pulses, still painfully hard. god, you will be the death of him. he doesn't take his own shirt off, he doesn't want you to see his pasty, skinny body.

INCELBUR who spoons you from behind when you slide into bed beside him, one arm under your neck while the other grips your hip possessively. he leaves some space between his hips and yours, he knows you would have felt his boner when you kissed but he doesn't want to scare you away. you tell him goodnight, and nuzzle your head into his pillow. he presses a kiss to the back of your neck, he wants to tell you he loves you. but he doesn't. he just says goodnight, and thanks you for coming over tonight.

INCELBUR who can't fall asleep with you in his arms. he glances at his alarm clock to see he's been lying behind you for at least two hours, still hard as a rock. you're asleep though, serene and relaxed in his bed. he's imagined how you'd look asleep beside him but reality is better than his imagination. you look beautiful, your face relaxed and lips parted as you breath deeply. you should stay he every night, you look happy here. with him.

INCELBUR who can't resist shuffling forward until his clothes erection is pressed against the cleft of your ass. he bites back a moan at the pressure, he's leaking precum and its pathetic. he knows it's wrong but his hand on your stomach creeps up to your tits again, massaging the globes through his shirt until he feels your nipple harden. he pressed his face into the back of your hair, inhaling your scent as his hips rut gently against the curve of your buttocks.

INCELBUR who is being a creep. he knows that's who he is deep down, and he's desperate. he slides his hand up his shirt to play with your bare tits, his cock twitching with excitement when he feels your nipple against his palm. he wants to suck them, bite them. but he knows if he moves to much you'll wake up and be furious at him, so he keeps his movements and touches subtle. his hips roll in a gentle rhythm, its not enough to get him off but the pressure on his cock is enough to relieve some of his tension.

INCELBUR who presses kisses to the back of your neck and shoulders, sucking on the skin softly. he wants to mark you, to show everyone who belongs to him. he hesitated for only a moment before he presses his teeth into your soft flesh, increasing the pressure until he's confident you'll wake up tomorrow with a bite mark on your shoulder. he can feel the wet patch leaking through his pants from his precum and hopes to god you can't feel the wetness against your ass.

INCELBUR who doesn't remember falling asleep, but when he blinks his eyes open he reaches for you again. but you're not there. he sits upright, his head spinning from his hangover. he rubs his eyes, clearing his vision and scanning his room for you. but you're gone. your shoes and purse aren't there, the shirt you wore sits folded on his desk chair. he's filled with so many conflicting emotions he doesn't even notice the note on his bedside table.

INCELBUR who screams into his pillow, throwing a textbook against the wall hard enough to dent the plaster. of course you're gone, why the fuck would you give him the privilege of waking up beside you? god, he's such an idiot. why did he even think he had a chance with you? it was just some fucking kisses. he's just a charity case, not deserving of anything more than the scraps you give him.

--==--

taglist: @lillyspeakz @multifandomhallucinations @xxvalentinezxx @charlidog @bellelikesmcyt

[implied-divinity]

im feeling sappy tonight. shoutout to the baby tboys begging to be forcemasced. one day you will become the man you want to be. within the kink its wonderful when another man grabs you by the shoulders and pushes you headfirst in. its wonderful to share in the joy he felt when he started. in reality know youre afraid. it takes guts to let yourself be who you want. dont take your feelings lightly and let yourself explore. you are not alone but its also up to you. take care. much love.

[lacecap]

song about something you'll never be forgiven for. beepbox link here, and a singalong under the read more :''-)

starting point "…so don't look back" i took your hand and led you astray into the light i fear i might have made a fatal mistake walk in a straight line walk in a straight line i couldn't ask i only hope that sinners are saved but in all honesty, my honor keeps me somewhat afraid walk in a straight line don't dare look behind ♫♫♫ i had a dream we tried to reach the finishing line but in the silence still the time we killed had come back to life walk in a straight line walk in a straight line the signs had merged into a single "end of the world" where every undead thing was damned to sing "esrever ni gnos a" walk in a straight line …tell me that you're fine ♫♫♫ walk in a straight line (walk in a straight line) don't dare look behind (don't dare look behind) tell me that you're fine (something that had died) you're still breathing right? (are you satisfied?) walk between the lines (how to save a life) don't dare look behind (change the ending line) reach the end this time (tell a little lie) bring me back to life… ♫♫♫ if i'd look back and held the hands that led me astray into the light i'd proudly cry "this is my final mistake" walk with me this time walk with me this time i should have asked i know the answer's somewhat cliché but was it worth the price and worth the pain? you're fading away— walk with me this time bring me back to life… if i'd look back… if i'd look back… if i'd look back… if i'd look back… if i'd look back… if you'd look--

[baeshijima]

since maintenance has (i think) officially started . . .

MAY ALL MUALANI WANTERS BE MUALANI HAVERS !!!

MAY ALL KAZUHA WANTERS BE KAZUHA HAVERS !!!

MAY ALL KACHINA WANTERS BE KACHINA HAVERS !!!

MAY ALL KINICH WANTERS BE KINICH HAVERS !!!

MAY ALL RAIDEN WANTERS BE RAIDEN HAVERS !!!

GOOD LUCK ON UR PULLS AND HAPPY 5.0 + HAPPY NATLAN + HAPPY 4TH ANNIVERSARY EVERYONE 🫶🫶

[socksandbuttons]

Anyway

Todays episodes

Idk

I dont know what the future one was trying to tell me

But poor puppet trying to get info and everyones like WTF

like an alternate future that dosnt help at all

[tangledinink]

I can imagine the first cycle after moving. Probably Leo because Donnie likely has internal scarring, so leo goes through the process of laying his eggs, panics, his brother can't help, and finally, *finally* they ask for help. It's not willingly. It's not for fun. It's purely necessity. It's purely because there's *literally noone else* and the idea of telling anyone at all is so scary that the way they do so is in a note. Splinter sits them down and basically walks them through "You're safe, you're fine. We can handle this however you feel most comfortable, including getting you both on blockers if you prefer" and they just.... sigh. For the first time, there's *someone else* in their circle, and it's willing and it's warm, and it's *safe*. There will be tears.

Yes, except I'm not convinced that either of them could stand to tell anyone. Even if it was literally life or death (which it has been before,) I'm not sure if either of them could bear to give up that information. Donnie is finally, finally away from the people who hurt him when he got found out last time, and even though logically, he knows that it's different here, he's absolutely petrified of the thought that the same thing will happen again and it won't be over anymore. He's still horrified by the idea of anyone else knowing about Leo when he's gone to such lengths for so long to protect him, and Leo is likewise terrified in the same way. They've spent years with this being their more closely guarded secret, and that's going to be really difficult to give up.

But it's really not a secret they'll be able to keep for long.

They're in a completely different environment, with far less space and privacy. They're both stressed as hell and Donnie WAS on birth control and taking all sorts of vitamins and supplements to make sure he didn't eggbind again and now he's suddenly not and it's not only messing with his body, it's fucking scary. It literally keeps them both up at night. Neither of them know how to wash blood out of clothes or sheets. There's no private en suite bathroom they can sequester themselves away in. They're both literally making themselves sick with anxiety trying to deal with this, and they're used to handling this on their own, this is routine for them, but they're not used to all of this.

They'd probably metaphorically limp through a few cycles before their family puts it together and gently confronts them.

Venus probably figures it out first. She's pretty smart, and incredibly observant, and after all-- she quite literally experiences the exact same thing. April may not lay eggs, but I think she'd be able to get the idea after a bit as well. And while I think Splinter would realize something was wrong pretty quickly, Draxum would probably realize what was wrong first. Splinter has April, so he has a little bit of experience in this realm, but Draxum has Venus and so he has far more experience.

And so when they do sit them down and talk with them, it's going to be really scary at first. And then they get to, "you're safe, you're fine, we can handle this however you feel the most comfortable. It will be okay. No one will hurt you."

And then there's finally other people in the know, in the circle, people who will actually help them. And yes-- there will definitely be tears.