#and the only way to make it stop is to scream at the top of my lungs

[suiana]

(yandere! second prince x gn! royalty reader) (inspired by frozen, yk the movie with elsa ya)

"y/n!"

the second prince called out, his lips quirking up into a shaky smile as the love of his life approached.

he had been cursed by his older brother, the king of the empire. it all happened so fast. he went to find his runaway sibling and when he finally found him... he didn't even know what happened. one second he was fine then the next he was on the floor, clutching his chest as his friend carried him out of his older sibling's ice castle.

apparently he needed a true love's kiss to break the curse that his older sibling placed on his heart. and he knew just who to help him break that curse.

"my darling, are you alright?"

heaven.

your voice was like salvation to him. he swears he could feel his heart thawing with just the sound of your voice.

"I'm alright now that you're here..."

the younger prince trembles as he makes himself comfortable in your grip. ah... you're so caring... so charming... he's so glad that you're his one and only.

"y/n, you have to kiss me. that's the only way to break the curse. a true love's kiss."

his hair had already begun turning white, a sign that the curse was progressing to the other parts of his body. if he didn't get that kiss, he might never get to be with you ever again.

he couldn't let that happen.

"really? shall i kiss you then?"

yes! his heart and mind were both screaming at you to just kiss him already. but he only nodded weakly, his cheeks turnung a faint shade of pink as he shut his eyes.

he could feel your warm breath on his lip, your warm and tender touches as you wrapped your arms around him. warm, you were so very warm.

but why weren't you kissing him?

"m-my love?"

he was desperately waiting for that kiss of yours. to feel your soft lips against his, for your passion to bring him back to his original condition.

but it never came.

his eyes fluttered open, his heart shaking as he takes in your expression. what? why were you smiling at him? just hurry up and kiss him already! your love will beeak the curse and you two would be happy together!

"my love can't you kiss-"

"oh darling, if only there was someone out there who loved you."

the second prince swears he feels his whole world stop at your words. even your warm hand caressing his cheek didn't help lessen the shock.

what did you say? no, he had to have misheard, right? how could you not love him?! you said it before-

"haha... funny joke my love... now c-can you kiss me? i feel so cold..."

"mn... yes, i suppose you were an idiot for not realising. you are quite naive unlike your brother."

his eye twitches at your words. out of all the things you had to say... you bring up his brother?

it's always his brother this, his brother that... can't it be him for once?!

"don't bring my brother-"

"you know, i was originally planning on going to him. he's more of my type anyway. but... he saw through me and distanced himself."

you let out a sigh, shaking your head as your hands loosen around the second prince. that's right, you were planning to get engaged to the king for the sake of your own empire, you know? but he instantly rejected you. what a shame.

then you met this...puppy like second prince. he'd do. of course he would, he's not half that bad looking and he's dumb too! he wouldn't suspect a thing!

"you know darling, you should use that brain of yours more."

you click your tongue, shaking your head before releasing your hold on the second prince. it's time to go take over this empire. the king was gone and the second in line was about to die. the whole enpire needed someone to support them and who else but you?

"no."

unfortunately, your plans were shattered as the second prince suddenly tugged you down, his hands shaky as he crawled on top of you.

what the hell?

you could only stare in silence as the younger prince forced you to remain under him. his eyes were dark with an emotion you've never seen from him before. he was... even panting? what a dog.

"you can't leave me."

was he not listening? you've never loved him-

"no, you have to love me. you said it before, why can't you say it now?"

you roll your eyes at his words, letting out an annoyed sigh as you try to push him off of you.

"don't you get it? those words were just lies. i've never loved you."

silence.

before you knew it, his lips were on yours. his cold lips against your warm ones as he pressed himself up against you.

"you nust love me. don't lie to me. how.. could you not love me?"

he mumbles between kisses, his cheeks flushing red as he geips your wrists, pinning them to the ground. he continues to sit on top of you, his breath mixing with yours.

"hah... we still have... time. I'll make you realise your feelings for me."

he looks down at you, deranged eyes staring into your own confused ones before he goes back to kissing you, his teeth nipping at your lower lip.

"you're the only one for me, y/n. you have to be mine."

he mumbles, voice shaky before he grips your jaw rather tightly.

"love me back."

damn boy! he crazy crazy 🤣

[archangeldyke-all]

Desperately need my wife Sevika to hold me by the throat while she fucks me all slow and deep until i’m squirming and whining. Bonus points if she doesn’t let me move too much and tells me how pretty my pussy looks around her strap-

but i’m totally calm about her what do you all mean- i’m totally normal and calm.

- Pythia

ooooooh my god. i' mso normal.

men and minors dni

"sev-- 's too big!" you whine, desperately clawing at the sheets as you try to scoot away from your wife.

sevika grins and tugs your hips back down the bed, forcing you to take her to the hilt. she growls and you squeak, moaning and blubbering as she starts fucking you mercilessly. "quit squirming, baby, 'm tryna make you feel good."

you shiver, your words lost to the feeling of sevika stretching you out. she's smiling sweetly down at you like she's not ruining you right now, gently pecking your calf where it rests on her shoulder while her hands claw at your hips hard enough for you to be certain you're bleeding.

"you're ridiculous." she giggles eventually, her eyes fondly watching your cunt stretch around her strap. you just moan. "actin' like you can't take it-- like you weren't fuckin' beggin' for it ten minutes ago-- i know you baby. 'd you forget? i know how much you can take. i know how to make you scream--" you cut her off with just that-- a loud wail filling the bedroom when sevika starts rubbing your clit as she continues pounding inside you. sevika lets out a cocky little chuckle. "i know how much you fuckin' like it."

"sev, sevika!" you squawk, trying again to run away from her as she rearranges your guts.

"quit squirming." she grunts, smacking your ass. you whimper.

"can't help it! you're in my stomach!"

"'s it hurt?"

"n-no but--" the moment the word leaves your lips sevika's smile gets even eviler, and she stops her hips movements only to quickly rearrange your limbs, wrapping your legs around her hips, using one hand to keep you clinging to her, while the other trails up your body, briefly pausing to pinch your tits, before wrapping around your throat.

the moment she starts squeezing, you start to cum.

sevika cackles as she fucks you through your first orgasm, letting go of your throat long enough for you to gasp a breath of air, before ducking down and kissing you.

it's more like she's fucking your throat with her tongue-- just grunting into your open mouth as her hand cradles your jaw gently, greatly juxtaposing the way she's fucking into you.

"fuck, i wanna get you pregnant." sevika huffs against your lips. you whimper. "you're just so fuckin' cute, i can't fuckin' help myself. wanna ruin you."

"you are." you moan out eventually-- finally catching your breath from your last orgasm. sevika hums happily.

"'s good?" she asks.

"fuckin' perfect." you sigh. "fuck, sev, i love you so much. 'y fuck me so good."

"i know baby." sevika sighs happily, leaning back down to kiss you sweetly before she starts hammering into you again. you gasp. "i know." sevika repeats.

she brings her hand back around your throat, holding you in place while she starts to chase her own pleasure, her eyes locked on you, tracking every twitch and jump she pulls from you, her smile growing when your thigh starts to spasm as you get close.

"you gonna cum?" she asks. you nod underneath her. sevika grins. "fuck, me too. i dunno how you do it-- y' get me so fuckin' worked up baby, just watching you be all pretty, fuck-- shit, i'm gonna knock you up."

"sevika!" you sputter. she giggles.

"go ahead, baby. cum all over my cock and i'll fill you up with my babies."

you gasp and cum again, and the moment you do, sevika groans and collapses on top of you, cumming deep inside of you while you cling to her.

"fuck." you giggle. sevika snorts in your throat.

"fuck." she agrees. "shit, baby, you had my fuckin' legs shaking this entire time y' feel so fuckin' good. gimmie five minutes to catch my breath 'n we're goin' again." sevika sighs, settling in on top of you for a cat nap. you burst into laughter.

"sevika, you can't sleep inside me!"

"why not?" she asks, pouting down at you. you snort.

"'cause five minutes'll turn into two hours and then we'll wake up and you'll've been inside me for half the day. i'm not trying to be that sore tomorrow."

sevika huffs and reaches out for her phone, tapping a few buttons before throwing it on the other side of the bed. "there. i set a timer. happy?" she asks.

you grin. "deliriously."

sevika's responding smile is so sweet it gives you butterflies.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette

@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp

@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen

@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom

[daryltwdixon]

Live-In Bodyguard

A requested one shot:

hi!! i was wondering if you could write a little story where y/n and daryl were paired to live together when they first arrived at Alexandria and now have been living together for a while. They’re not necessarily friends, and actually don't really like each other and one day daryl is out hunting when y/n spills something on her clothes, leaving her with nothing but one of daryls old t shirts. 🤭🤭🤭🤭 he comes home and catches her in the kitchen where she pulls the tshirt down to cover her underwear and keeps apologizing. Tyyyyy @dixon555

I did take a little bit of creative liberty on the situation in which he catches you in buttttt what can I say :)

Fluffy, protective Daryl

When Rick comes out to meet you and the rest of the group, explaining the rooming situation at the compound you've arrived to, you can tell he seems hesitant before breaking the news to you. 

“Y/N…” he says carefully, his hand rubbing at his growing beard, “you and…” he looks over to Daryl, his eyes searching his chosen brother’s face. 

“No way,” you say, suddenly understanding, “No way, Rick. I can’t live with this guy,” your thumb points over your shoulder.

“Like you’re such a ray of sunshine,” Daryl snaps back at you, “think I wanna share a place with you either?” 

You and Daryl were…I mean, obviously you had lived together the past however long it had been since the group had found you. It had actually been Daryl who found you in an abandoned house, covered in walker guts and dirt after hearing you screaming when there was a whole group coming into the cabin. But since then, you'd been living in close quarters with everyone. As much as you had appreciated him coming after you, the rest of the time you’ve known him he’s always been on you–how you can’t be trusted on your own, always needing protection, never allowing you out of his sight. You had started going crazy that this man would barely speak to you, but insisted on always having eyes on you at all times. 

Rick sighs, looking at the ground, his forefinger and thumb at the bridge of his nose, “Look, y’all need to figure something out, this is just what I was told. The house has two rooms, you won’t be in each other’s way–”

“Great, great. Thanks a lot,” you groan, heading toward the row of houses, “my own live-in bodyguard,”

“Be nice,” you hear Rick saying under his breath to Daryl.

“Always am,” Daryl replies. 

This was going to suck.

—------------

You’re drinking coffee at the small kitchen table in your house at Alexandria, finally starting to feel settled in the place. Daryl was out in the beginning days of your time here, he finally understood that the walls were enough to keep you safely out of harm’s way. You had tried to sneak out a few times, only to find him waiting for you at the exit, ready to stop you. It’s like he could read your damn mind. So, you gave up trying to work around his helicopter protection. You decided to focus on your house, making it a home for you. If Daryl was going to be out hunting most days anyway, you figured you would make it how you wanted it. You found a way to decorate the place, even if it wasn’t the easiest task. The walls had been freshly painted a couple weeks ago when you saw they were a nasty mustard yellow when you had first walked in.

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

“Oh god,” you had moaned.

Daryl paused, suddenly rushing to you. He came up to your side quickly, scanning the room. You could tell he was on high alert.

“No, no, it’s nothing,” you assured him, “Just…the walls,” 

“The…walls?” he had grunted out

“They’re ugly,” you said to him, simply.

“And you were hoping for…?”

“Maybe a nice blue or something, anything but this awful mustard,” you said, and began walking around to discover the rest of the place. 

Two days later you had found a note stuck to a pail on the kitchen counter, with a large roller brush on top. When you approached it, a small, traitorous smile had crossed your lips.

“For making the walls less ugly” 

You hardly had to guess who the terrible handwriting was from. 

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

You took the whole day to paint, excited for a new project that felt like making the house a home. Setting your lukewarm coffee down on the wooden floor to dip the paintbrush in a fresh coat of paint, you begin your task. You’re lifting the paintbrush up to the wall, gliding it gently along the seams where the corners meet. When you step back to view your work, you trip over your half empty coffee mug you left on the ground, causing you to flail your arms out for support, the paint brush in your hand splattering all over your shirt.

“Ah, shit,” you thought out loud, touching the bits of paint that were wet on your shirt now. There were blue splatters all down the front of your shirt and your sleeves. You sighed, and looked around. You might as well finish before going up to change. 

When all four walls of the downstairs were done, you head up the stairs. 

Unfortunately, you hadn’t really had the chance to get out and scavenge for new clothes in Alexandria since you mostly stayed in the house, trying to acclimate the past couple of days. Daryl was out on a hunting trip today–surprise, surprise. He seemed so pent up since arriving. Every little thing pissed him off lately, his temper was so easily brought out of him. Not that he was very forthcoming on the reason he was so annoyed lately. But you would see him roll his eyes, scoff, and just overall pouting as soon as you arrived. You knew Daryl was most comfortable out in the woods–it was his happy place, oddly. As much as anyone else was terrified to be out in the woods alone, he cherished it. He barely talked to you in the past months you’ve known him but you were quietly getting to know him from afar. Or at least as far as he’d let you get from him. He was intriguing as much as he was annoying to you. 

So you’re up stairs, searching to see if any of your dresser drawers happen to have a fresh set of clothes, but it seems you’re out of luck. The drawers are barren, the dusty wooden bottoms seemed to be mocking you now. ‘Told you to get some clothes,’ they tell you as you open and clothes every single one to no avail. ‘Should've left the house for some when you had the chance–now look at you’. You shake your head– anthropomorphizing a dresser is weird. It’s a dresser. It doesn’t speak. But if this one could you know it would be chiding you for being such a recluse the past few days of arriving at the commune. A sudden thought occurs to you– you had seen Daryl walking in with a few things over his arm yesterday when he came in from being out in the woods again. He had grumbled something along the lines of getting called to the main house and being told off for looking like a forest creature with how ratty his clothes were looking. It had made you chuckle to see him embarrassed, holding a pile of crisp clothes that were such a stark contrast against him, but now you were suddenly grateful. Maybe you could take one of them and he wouldn’t even realize it was his, since he probably hadn’t worn any of them. Looking out into the hallway to make sure he hadn’t snuck in and was about to catch you, you quietly walk over to his room. You hold the doorknob in your palm for a long second, talking yourself into going in. It’ll be fine, it’s not weird–it's just Daryl. You close your eyes shut tight and open the door.

The room was pretty barren much like yours, you weren’t sure what you were expecting, really. As you look around you see signs of his presence though– his poncho hangs over the back of the chair at the desk, the keys to the motorcycle on the wooden chest at the bottom of his bed. 

You sneak over quietly to the chest of things, putting his keys to the side and opening it with delicacy. He could walk in here at any minute and find you snooping, and you’d be dead meat. But when you open the chest, none of the new clothes are there. It’s all his old stuff–the ratty sleeveless shirts, the angel wing vest he would wear, a big tee shirt with car or motorcycle oil stains… You stand and deliberate your best course of action. These options are still better than sitting in dry crusted paint all over you all day. They’re not necessarily dirty, since Carol had come over yesterday to take everyone’s things to be washed. Daryl had surprisingly neatly folded them up in the chest when he put them away–or maybe Carol had and he just left them like that. Gingerly, you pick up the large tee shirt with the faded oil stains, giving it a once over before deciding it was good enough. You take it and make your way to the shower, praying Daryl isn’t back til the evening when you could put it back before bed. 

You’re stepping out of the shower, wringing your hair out when you hear the door close out in the living room. Oh, shit. You were stupid enough to leave your paint splattered shirt in your bedroom along with your pants, only bringing in Daryl’s shirt and a pair of underwear to change into after your shower. You curse at yourself inwardly, figuring there was no way out but to face it. Hopefully Daryl would just stay downstairs while you made your way to your room to put your own clothes back on. You throw the tee shirt on, and it surprisingly makes its way past your butt, hiding everything just enough to be decent if he were to accidentally spot you running for it down the hallway. You collect yourself, wringing your hair out one more time before hanging your towel on the door and stepping out. Steam escapes the bathroom as the door swings open, and you’re looking around the door frame, making sure no one is there. You sigh in relief when you see no one on the landing–Daryl is still downstairs then. Or maybe he’s not even here and just had to grab something on his way out again. 

If only you were so lucky. 

You’re on the way to your room, padding over gently to your door, hand on the banister to keep yourself steady, when you catch in the corner of your eye coming up the stairs. You freeze on the top landing, directly in front of the staircase when he catches you trying to creep down the hall. 

His eyes linger on your face for a minute, and you watch his eyes suddenly scanning you from head to toe. You look down at yourself to assess how screwed your situation is– your wet hair is dripping on the shirt, making parts of it damp and see through. Of course where your hair meets your chest, the wetness is the worst, making the shirt cling to you like a second skin. Your eyes dart up to him as you take in your nearly drenched chest, your nipples hardening to the cold air now that they’re wet. His eyes are glued to you, still on your chest until they start to scan down to your bare legs, where the shirt just barely covers you decently. You squeeze your legs together, bringing the shirt past your underwear, a blush blazing across your face and neck. “Daryl, I'm sorry, I just--”

But suddenly he’s climbing up the stairs and grabbing you so quickly that the air escapes your lungs as he holds you against the wall, his lips crashing into yours.

[briseroyawritingsblog]

𝑺𝒕𝒂𝒚

𝒅𝒂𝒚𝒔!𝒐𝒇!𝒕𝒉𝒆!𝒇𝒖𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒆!𝒑𝒂𝒔𝒕!𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒂𝒏 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎! 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

• +18 minors do interact. Tiny plot, filthy sex, Unprotected sex, rough sex, choking kink, cum, slight facial, etc.

𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒂𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 / 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

divider by @anitalenia

Eyes fluttering open as he felt soft kisses on his chest. He was naked. So naked— “Mm..” humming softly feeling warm tongue on his chest. His hand gently cupped your hair as you smiled “Mornin’ handsome” his eyebrows furrowed in confusion looking around the room finding out that he indeed was sent from the future to this reality. A reality where he had a naked gorgeous woman on top of him. “We had so much fun last night..” you whispered straddling his naked hips. Your fingers wrapping around his thick veiny cock. Logan growled at the feeling, he became all hard and swollen in your hand “did we, princess?” he cupped your naked thighs. What a way to wake up.. even though he just got there twenty seconds ago.

You nodded needily hovering your wet pussy over his thick cock. You whined when he stopped you by grasping your hips groaning at you. “Please..” you rubbed his naked chest. “You kept fucking me all night long now you don’t want me?” Logan couldn’t respond to that. He wanted it, his body certainly needed some kind of a relief of course. A desperate relief. “Look Bub, I think I’m not the Logan you fucked last night..” he kept looking between your bodies swallowing. The red angry tip of his cock leaking with pre cum. Your tender folds parting making you impatiently whine “You’re, you just don’t remember it” you whispered hovering above him. Who he was to deny a sweet pussy. Gritting his teeth he slammed you down on his cock, making you cry out. “Fuck!” He huffed out groping the supple skin of your bouncy tits “feels so good Logan..” you whimpered out clenching your pussy on his big cock making a mess on his heavy balls.

“Fuck yes” he rumbled on bouncing you on his cock making the bed creak. You threw your head back gripping the headboard “my father doesn’t know this lo! He wouldn’t be thrilled!” To these words Logan responded only in deep growls bouncing you faster on his cock thrusting up into you before rolling over on top of you. Burying his face against your tits gripping the flesh of your thighs pounding you harder, rougher. Making you gasp for breath and scream his name “yes yes yes! Yessss!” You breathed feeling your orgasm spill all over his cock squirting your juices with a loud moan. “You’re a dirty little slut aren’t you, bub?” He hovered above you snapping his hips into you. You held his hips nodding “only for you lo, I’m gonna cum so hard again” he smirked down at you watching his cock slam in and out of you before he gripped your throat “greedy slut, beggin’ for my cock huh?” Your legs spread themselves even more as he fully on jackhammered into you making your eyes roll back into your head.

His deep breaths and grunts echoed in the room before there were few knocks on the door “keep going!!” You screamed clawing his back looking at the door. Logan scooped you in his arms shoving his cock inside of you as quick as he could before growling biting your shoulder animalistically. “Where to princess huh?” he moaned under his breath taking his cock out of your heated cunt; fisting it in his hand. “My breasts lo! My face!” You held his thighs before his head rolled back the tip spurting long strings of hot load on your body covering your tits and your chin, even part of your neck. His fingers slowly rolled your puffy clit in process when he slapped the tip of his cock on your ruined pussy “lo!!!” A broken whimper left you as you reached your second high trembling beneath him “atta girl..” he sighed watching the art he painted on your body. “You gotta clean it up” a knock on the door disturbed you two for sure. “Where the hell am I?” He sighed again. “Just stay..” you whined tugging on his hand “can’t princess but you gonna see me again.” Pecking your lips lightly he grabbed his clothes. At least the clothes he assumed were his. Quickly dressing up he yanked the door open “who the fuck are you?” The men asked “your nightmare if you don’t move” Logan growled his claws growing out. “Give me your car keys if you don’t wanna wake up in the hospital” you giggled on the bed at his words.

-

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

what you’ve come to find out about the outside world is that there are people everywhere and that everywhere is loud.

people are walking quickly, some of them are talking loudly on the phone. others are walking more slowly, or in groups. they’re even louder.

you’ve been walking around outside for a while now, there’s more noise than when you’re back home. back home, everyone mutters to themselves or are completely silent. the people in the white coats are always behind glass when they look at you and you cannot hear them.

the people here look at you too, but it feel different. they don’t write on clipboards when they do. some eyebrows furrow while others raise. they look at you curiously. you don’t think you like it much. an older woman stops you and asks you where ‘yourmother’ is. you’ve never heard that name before, so you walk away.

you somehow find yourself at a place with people that look like you. they are also in groups. and they are also loud. they play on weird constructions you’ve never seen, you think they might be strange, new training devices.

you feel something cold and wet touch your forehead. you know you’re not bleeding so it must be something else. you look up and another wet drop falls right on top of your cheek.

oh. rain.

the people that look like you are nowhere to be seen now, all running away somewhere else. some of them still scream and smile, running around in the rain. you don’t understand how that could be enjoyable at all.

you’ve managed to find a spot to hide from the rain, it still feels cold. you wonder when it’ll stop. you wonder if father and the others are already on their way to come catch you. it scares you, you’ll probably have to move soon.

“what anime is that from ?”

you jump when you hear someone speak, you look at them and they look at you, so you know they were talking to you and when you’re talked to you always have to respond.

except you don’t know what to say.

your mouth opens and closes, you make a noise of confusion. the person, a boy who also looks like you also looks confused.

“your outfit, what show is that from ?”

huh ?

“you a cosplayer ?”

huh ??

you know he speaks your language, you understand some words. except the last one.

“coz..player..?” you ask. the boy who has red eyes frowns at you. you don’t think you’ve ever seen that color before. you like it.

“yeah..you don’t know what that is ?” the boy with the red eyes looks at you strangely, you don’t like how long he’s been looking. you don’t like not being able to do something right. because that’s bad.

you shake your head, because you don’t know. “what’s with that get up then ?”

you understand that he means you’re clothes. you don’t think there’s anything wrong with them, they’re best for practice missions and training. you simply shrug.

the boy moves around a bit, he clicks his teeth. his red eyes are squinted. he has a bag in his hand and it crinkles as he moves to hold it better. the thing he has above his head is stopping the rain from touching him and casts a shadow over his eyes.

“you’re uber weird.”

you have no idea what that means. but you don’t think you like the tone of his voice very much. you stay quiet.

“you’re parents not here to pick you up ?”

you shrug again, because you don’t know.

“…you got somewhere to go ?”

you look up at him, he’s still looking at you strangely, you realize them you’re shivering because he’s brought his device a bit closer to you.

you don’t know where to go, so you shake your head. his eyes widen just a bit before any surprise is gone once again.

“we can stop by my house, you’re soaked.”

you take too long to answer, because he squints at you and starts pulling your hand and along with him somewhere only he knows the way to.

his hand is very warm, you notice.

[lvnleah]

Hi!! I said about lotte earlier, I’d love some kind of lotte x reader maybe early in relationship and reader has a fight with her family which she ends up spilling to the team in changing room/ team night. lotte instinctively gets really protective/ angry which puts their relationship to the group? or maybe something to do with a creepy fan at a match, lotte gets protective and their relationship is shared online? feel free to make any changes ❤️❤️

Under Pressure | Lotte Wubben-Moy

thank you so much for this request <33

word count: 900 a little short one!

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The hum of the changing room settled as you took a deep breath, peeling your training top off. The atmosphere was filled with the usual banter, chatter about the training session, weekend plans, and who got the most nutmegs that day. You had kept quiet for most of the day, a smile here and there, nodding along to your teammates’ chatter. But your mind was still spinning, replaying the argument with your family earlier that day.

You had walked out of that conversation, your head pounding, feeling like you had been run over by a truck. You couldn’t shake the hurtful words, the way their disbelief in your relationship with Lotte had made you feel so small. It was one thing for them to disapprove of your career in football, but to disapprove of her, of something that made you so happy, was a punch to the gut.

You and Lotte had been together for three months now, after being friends for so long you both decided it was time to try something new. Your family had never approved of you being a footballer let alone you being in a relationship with a woman.

“You okay?” Leah nudged you, bringing you back to reality instead of being inside of your head.

You forced a smile. “Yeah, just a bit tired. Didn’t get a lot of sleep.”

She didn’t seem convinced but thankfully didn’t push further. You were grateful for that, not sure if you’d be able to keep up the fake smile much longer. You wanted to scream, to vent, to let it all out, but you were also terrified of breaking down in front of everyone.

Later that night, the team decided to head to a local pub. A night out with the team was meant to be a distraction. The usual post-training hangout was filled with laughter, clinking glasses, and friendly teasing. But the mask you wore all day was starting to crack. Lotte, sitting across from you, noticed too. Her eyes flickered with concern, and she reached out under the table, her hand squeezing yours. It was a simple gesture, but it almost made you crumble.

“Babe, are you sure you’re okay?” she whispered, leaning in close so only you could hear. Her voice was gentle, her thumb brushing against your knuckles.

You nodded, but the lump in your throat only grew. “Yeah, just family stuff.”

You could see the flicker of anger in her eyes, her jaw tightening slightly. She hated that you were hurting and hated even more that it was because of them. You loved her protective side, but right now, you needed her to stay calm. The last thing you wanted was to drag the team into this.

But the dam broke when someone asked innocently about your family. “They still giving you grief about football?” Viv asked, her tone light but laced with genuine concern.

You hesitated, the weight of the day pressing down on you. “Not just about football,” you muttered, and the words spilled out before you could stop them. “They… they don’t understand why I’m with Lotte. They don’t think it’s serious, and they don’t think she’s… right for me.”

Silence settled over the group. You looked up to find everyone staring at you, the concern and sympathy evident in their faces. You felt exposed, vulnerable, and you wished you could take the words back, shove them down where they wouldn’t see the light of day.

Lotte’s hand tightened around yours, “That’s bullshit,” she said, “You deserve better than that.”

Your eyes widened, and you tried to give her a look, something to tell her to calm down, but she was on a roll now, her anger radiating off her in waves. “They don’t know what they’re talking about. You’re amazing, and if they can’t see that, then screw them. You don’t need their approval.”

The room was silent, everyone watching the two of you with wide eyes. It dawned on you then that she had said all this in front of the entire team. It wasn’t like you were hiding your relationship, but you hadn’t exactly put it out there either. You had wanted to keep it private, to let it grow naturally, without the pressure of everyone knowing. But now, there it was, out in the open.

You swallowed hard, glancing around the table. Leah was looking at you with a small, knowing smile, Viv and Beth exchanged a look, and the rest of the team seemed to be processing this new information.

“Uh, well, I guess that’s out now,” you said with an awkward laugh, rubbing the back of your neck.

Lotte turned to you, her anger melting away, replaced by a soft, almost apologetic expression. “Sorry, I just… I hate seeing you like this. I didn’t mean to…”

You shook your head, squeezing her hand. “It’s okay. I just hate that they get to me so much.”

She smiled softly. “I’m sorry.”

You leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to her lips. “Don’t be. It’s not your fault.”

A collective “awww” went around the table, and you could feel your cheeks burning as you pulled away, but you couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips. Maybe it wasn’t how you planned to reveal your relationship, but looking around at the team’s warm, accepting smiles, you realised it didn’t matter.

[mentha-vacciniumrainbow]

Zestmilla tickle fights with the girls?

Nice idea, can do! (Hope you enjoy, is a silly little thing 💜)

《Clara, no 》 warned Carmilla, but it was all useless, as her daughter got ready to pounce on her

《Clara yes! 》 The kid screamed, jumping from the top of the wardrobe and onto her mother, her little hands busy tickling her 《I got you! Mum is my prisoner now! 》

《Stop it! I'm serious! 》 scolded Carmilla between laughters, carefull to move herself so that both her and her daughter would hit a soft surface when they would inevitably fall 《No TV the whole weekend! No spicy chips! No... No skateboarding! 》

《Worth it! 》 giggled the child, well aware that none of those threats would be followed by action. Her mum liked to act as she didn't enjoy their surprise attacks, but truth was, she could always see them coming from a mile away and never did anything to stop them from happening

《Stop! 》 She ordered again, as they fell on the bed and her dearest friend entered the room, alerted by the noise but not particularly panicked

《Zestial, a little help, please! 》 She pleaded, but Zestial, her oldest friend, the almost father of her daughters, her lighthouse in the storm, simply watched her with a knowing smirk, as he made his way towards them

《Thou doth not seem to particularly mind, mine dear 》 he noted, simply standing as her hyperactive child had the time of her life tickling her and undoing her neat updo.

So, apparently that was how he wanted to play, this time

《Traitor 》

《At least thou art getting cuddles 》 he comforted, and Clara stopped her assault to look at him dead in the eyes, a fanged smile brightening her round little face even more

《Don't worry jefe*, we won't make you feel left out》

《We? 》 asked Zestial, starting to look around the room, but it was already too late

《SURPRISE ATTACK 》

《Odette! 》

The child threw herself from the chandelier, successfully managing to knock Zestial to the ground and climb on him to deliver her own ticklish assault

《I'm speed, I'm stealth, I'm grace, I'M THE INVISIBLE TICKLER! 》

《I see thee perfectly, little lambkin 》 he laughed, still a bit out of breath, as he tried to rise, but his daughter was of a different opinion, and climbed on his chest as she pulled a long feather out of her sleeve

《Not for long! Feather attack! 》

《No! Not the feather, my only weakness 》 he played along 《show some mercy, I beg thee! 》

《No! Clara, I need help, dad is too tall to tickle alone! 》

《Reinforces are coming! 》

Assured the other, climbing off of her mother and joining her twin in her endeavour.

As his two beloved little menaces went wild on him and his poor clothes, Zestial noticed his dearest swiftly recomposing herself and preparing to slither out of the room

《Carmilla, mine dear... 》

He tried in his meekest voice, but this time it was her turn to smirk as she watched from above

《Na-ah. You were ready to leave me to my destiny, I'm leaving you to yours. Good luck, dear friend! 》

With a satisfied smile, she made her escape and closed the door behind her.

"Oh well, I deserved it." He thought "Yet, I shall nonetheless have my own ticklish revenge on mine loveliest lady... after our little ones are settled for the night, without a doubt."

*"Jefe" is the Spanish word for "boss", but is also affectionately/respectfully used for one's parents. I have a whole headcanon around it -used in my main fanfiction "You bring back my Springtime"-, but long story short, it's Clara's way of indirectly recognising Zestial as her dad, where Odette is more explicit.

[hinatiny]

trivial things ੈ✩‧₊˚ kuroo tetsuro

kuroo is there with you through thick and thin, for everything between the worst of your days to painting your nails.

w.c: 0.8k

kuroo likes to help you.

the silence you share with him in the space of your bedroom is of the comfortable type—soothing, anchoring your mind to a plane of reality, not in the need of breaking.

your carpet doesn’t do much to soften your seats on the floor, and you’re sure both your and his spine will feel like a disaster within an hour or so. you don’t care about that really yet though.

you can’t care about it, you’re too busy focusing on not moving, to the point where you’re almost forgetting to breathe. you’ve curled a leg up, hugging it to your chest to keep it stable as kuroo, too, is busy focusing; his hands aren’t shaking, but his slight lack of inexperience with nail polish is visible as he tries to paint your toenails.

your feet are cold. just a bit wrinkly as well, the results of washing them after telling him there’s no way you’ll let him do your nails before that. he’d argued back, saying he’ll wash his hands later anyway, but you didn’t falter. thus you sit here with feet, cold, but not freezing at all; throughout the current process, his warm hands brush against your skin every now and then, and it’s oddly calming.

you glance away for a moment, at your own hands that he’d been taking care of just lately. the nails are red, alarmingly red. it’s a shade you didn’t even know you owned, let alone used, and you’re sure you’ll wipe it off before the next time you go out. for now, you’ll let it remain there, although it’s not the color you had initially planned on. “but red was our uniform color in high school!” was what had convinced you, along with a childish pout.

“woops, sorry.” you look back down. out of all the mistakes and accidental strokes kuroo has done so far, this fresh one is the worst. your toe looks like it’s screaming for help, and it somehow makes you feel like laughing. “i’ll fix that later.”

“i’ll forgive you if you let me do your nails later.”

he chuckles, “sure. what color are you planning?”

“black, i think it’ll look good on you,” you say after humming for a moment but he doesn’t seem as pleased with the suggestion, grimacing. “what?”

“that’s daichi’s team’s color.” “fukurodani?” “worse, karasuno. next color.”

you silently scoff, “per that logic, we should be dying your hair too.”

this brings out another chuckle from kuroo, “yeah? what color are we dying my hair then?”

“yellow.” “like kenma-yellow?” “no, it’s called kenma-yellow for a reason.” “are you saying i can’t pull off that color?” “kuroo, i hate to break this to you but you’d probably look like a chicken in that color.”

at any other time, he’d jokingly act offended. however, he can’t bring himself to do so when the image draws a hearty laugh from you as well, the sound only making him smile as he briefly glances up at you.

the laugh is soon muffled below that returning, comfortable silence again. it stays like that for a while, and you wouldn’t mind if it stayed like that the entire night either.

the only issue is the one sob you suddenly let out, one you’d been holding back after already having sobbed more than a just a few times only a short while ago. this time, kuroo sighs.

“i know i told you to cry it all out earlier,” he says without diverting his eyes from the work in progress. “but if your roommate comes in and sees you like this, she’s probably going to think i forced you into doing your nails.”

to his relief, between two more sobs you let out, cracks a small giggle out. “i’ll try to stop. sorry, i didn’t mean to cry again.”

kuroo doesn’t answer immediately. he spends another few moments on the very last nail left to paint, before eventually letting out a deep breath. he puts the brush back into the small bottle of polish, screws its cap shut and puts it aside.

his hand, as warm as it’s always been, finds the top of your head. your hair gathers in messes between his fingers as he ruffles it, but it’s gently done, so gently that you can’t complain like you otherwise would. for a few moments, it makes you forget that you have a whole world of stress and pressure spinning around you.

so you let it happen, finding solace in being able to let your walls down at last. you feel your eyes burn in threatening tears, but as he speaks, his reassurance tilts you closer towards a calm, “it’s okay. everything’s going to be alright.”

kuroo likes to help you, even if it’s through the most trivial ways — like visiting your home at two in the morning and painting your nails. he truly likes to help you and would probably do anything, as long as it meant hearing that laugh again, the one you let out when he soon adds,

“by the way, you weren’t serious about dying my hair, right?”

[puhpandas]

the sense that cassie would knock into tony

[b-rainlet]

'Swing Kids fails at showing how cruel the nazis truly were'

This is a movie about german children who weren't inherently in danger by virtue of being 'the right race' whose only 'wrong-doings' were listening to the wrong kind of music and still they were constantly threatened and beat up, were forced to join the HJ to not endanger their families, one of them had his hand hurt so badly by a nazi he couldn't use two of his fingers anymore and had to teach himself to play guitar three-fingered, they were used to gather information for the Gestapo to the point the mc distrusted his best friend, they witnessed beatings and deportations and the shooting of a man on the run, the movie quite literally ends with the teenage main character being sent to what's most likely a concentration camp for dancing to the wrong music

[shigussy]

i keep getting tiktoks of these younger gen z kids referencing a time they did something relating to fandom in public and now they're embarrassed by it and everytime i see one i sit there thinking over all of middle and high school and having genuinely 0 moments that i feel embarrassed by, like i definitely did a lot of shit these kids would be embarrassed by but i think these are all just really fucking funny

also photographic evidence of the kinda kid i was. these are from 2014/15 when i was in 8th grade

-desolation row one shot(still on wattpad gerard way/reader smut)

-twerk it on (mcr crack fanfic no longer on wattpad but i have another fic in my library called twerking in taco bell which definitely ALSO used for my reading log)

-frank iero must die(a serial killer/assassin frerard fic, still on wattpad)

-hair (really vague maybe a phanfic? nowhere in my wattpad library rip)

my binder i used in 7th grade i had a blue one that looked pretty similar to this for 8th grade but idk where it went, also the parts i scribbled out are my full legal name i had written on it. i wrote it normally and then the big spot is where i wrote my name REALLY BIG in elysian code from the vladimir tod books. also the lines are from when i used an exacto knife to cut up some papers and forgot that my binder was underneath

in conclusion yall can now see why im so shameless about talking about shigaraki the way i do

[isa-belle1367]

I AM ONE MILD INCONVENIENCE AWAY FROM PURE INSANITY I STG

[beananium]

oh its all so painfully real

[binders-and-beanies]

.

[screampied]

#OOHMAMI! g. suguru

☆ sum. cuban link, diamond cross—you’re a big fan of suguru geto, the top street racer in tokyo. he doesn’t wanna win any more races, he wants to win you this time. keep at it and he might have to fuck you on the highway.

wc. 5.7k

warnings. fem! reader, street racer! geto, pwp, unprotected, suguru has a (dick) piercing / tats, semi-public, riding, brief ōral (f! receiving), you get eaten out his window lol, overstim, dirty talk, praise, size kink, impact play, petnames, drive safe.

an. chase atlantic inspired me ¯\_(ᵕ—ᴗ—)_/¯

“you, yeah you. wanna ride?”

stop thinking dirty, stop thinking dir—

you stop dead in your tracks, hearing the deafening vrooming of a certain nissan skyline gtr along with a raspy deep voice. you knew that voice, in fact you’d be a fool not to recognize the voice of the suguru geto, infamous street racer who’s won more races around the world than you could count. he’s got a big hand on the steering wheel with his dark purple helmet cracked open. growing pathetically sheepish, you could barely get any words out before you start to feel your feet gradually dragging toward his rumbling car.

“really?” you mumble, barely even pressed up against his tinted window and you could smell his loud rich cologne from there. you couldn’t help but fangirl—and oh, did he look so much better in person. geto’s got pretty long tresses of black hair that’s usually down, but in every race it’s always pinned back. a few loose strands run down his face, peeking out of his helmet and his glove grips tightly against his bedazzled steering wheel that had ‘s. geto’ carved into the material as it flawlessly spiraled around the wheel.

“reaaally,” he tauntingly repeats your word, cocking his head to get a better look at you. you could smell the thick puffed smoke that weeps out of his silvery flashy tailpipes and he hums. slouching back against his seat manspread, his foot eases off from the break and you watch as the flashy racer’s seat flies open on its on, and you step in. “i take it you’re here to see the race?”

no, no you weren’t.

you couldn’t lie to yourself—you were here to see the race, but you were to here to see geto also. you’ve only seen him during his interviews, magazines, and sometimes on tv where his races would be broadcasted for the entire world to see.

but, you managed to snag enough money to actually see him in the flesh.

without a second thought you make your way inside. on the inside, you were screaming. you were currently living every one of his fangirl’s dream. immediately once you sit down, you’re surrounded by the balmy welcoming warmth of his beloved str. you assumed it was an older model but he made it work anyway — it had cushioned seats with blaring speakers and oh, the smell . . it’s almost as if the vehicle had a signature cologne scent of its self. it’s really masculine and it makes your thighs squeeze together once you recline back a bit. his seats warmed up your backside automatically and you glance around the rest of the car, taking in its glitzy beauty.

it’s pretty, you’ve only seen pictures. ogling near his rear view mirror, you see fuzzy dice dangling as he’s adjusting it. the rest of the cars usually gathered near the meet up spot before the race actually starts.

“she’s pretty, isn’t she?” geto snickers, noticing you gawking at the inside of his car.

indeed, you heard about how geto built this entire thing from scratch. before doing street racing as a little side hustling hobby, he used to be a mechanic. a well known one, but that wasn’t as fun as actually racing.

geto tosses an arm behind the head rest of your seat, preparing to go in reverse. “had her for about two years. haven’t lose a match, since.”

“not one?” you murmur, wanting to call his bluff. sure, you’ve never seen anyone covering him losing a match but that was a bit hard to believe.

“doubtin’ me, sweetheart?” he rasps, and you feel the rough jittering of the car. geto’s backing up safely, curving his wheel briefly to drive out of one of his many garages.

sweetheart, you don’t know why but that single pet name had you feeling hot for a moment. once your eyes dart back toward him for a split second, you spot a toothpick sticking out from the corner of his crooked lips. he’s so pretty — he’s got a natural smirk that’s tugging against the corners of his lips. as he starts to drive toward the starting point for the highly anticipated race, a gloved thumb taps against his furry steering glimmering wheel. with a low hum, he glances at you. “seatbelt, silly girl.”

shit, you snap on your seat belt moments later and notice even his signature’s all over his seatbelt covers. ‘suguru geto’ in bright bold letters.

drafty air wafts against your skin as he’s still creating distance with just a few miles. once he reaches near the starting line, you hear his foot tapping against the break.

one, two, three . . three, two, one . . he’s bored.

geto positions his rear view mirror for the millionth time before noticing you zeroing your eyes at his gear shift that glistens from the dozens of rhinestones that glue against the cover. countless diamonds stick up and down the leather skin of the handle and it’s so pretty.

“hold on, sweetheart,” geto purrs, his eyes slowly locking onto the flagger that’s stood in front of the row of cars.

geto’s still got a firm hand gripped onto his wheel, his right foot just barely hovering over the gas. come on, he just wanted to get it over with. you could almost smell the competitiveness dripping from his body.

it was intense, you could almost feel the anticipation as if you were in the driver’s seat. the tall woman that’s dressed in nothing but sheer black carries a hefty checked flag, swaying it in the air every few seconds. as she safely spaces herself between the cars, she does it two more times and you realize it’s almost time for take off.

the cars that were lined up beside and next to geto start to rev their engines and so does he. it’s a roaring groan, and his rousing wheels burn into the hardened cement, his gold pipes coughing up clouds of purple smoke. geto gives his wheel one more tap with his thumb before glancing at you with a cunning grin. “lie back, i take off pretty fast, heh.”

and he wasn’t kidding.

the moment the flagger does a final up-down sway motion with the flag, all race cars accelerate quickly past the starting point. you sink back into the plushy seat as he meanly yanks back his stick shift.

his engine’s loud, and within seconds he’s already in the lead. it’s like he wasn’t even trying. frantic turbo spits through his rusted pipes and you can feel his car speedily pass through each poor vehicle that tries to get in his way.

vroooooom, he’s flying by each checkpoint and you could almost smell the adrenaline that’s coursing through his pulsating veins.

the thrill . .

you felt it all ghost through your own veins, feeling the frigid air roaming through his vents tickle against the hairs that stand up on your arms. geto makes a few sharp turns, keeping an eye on the time every so often. his personal best was around five minutes and seventy-seven seconds. with a coarse grip, he’s tilting his steering wheel while the thunder of his engine growls louder and louder within each whizzing mile.

over time though—you can’t help but be a bit nosy. your eyes shift toward the racer and god, you’re just now noticing how handsome he was.

geto usually wore sweats along with his street gear. he didn’t have to wear his helmet but he preferred it just in case. its all black with a splash of purple—you can see his signature lazily signed near the very top. outlined beside his name was a curling design of smoke. the part where he sees through was all darkly tinted so you could hardly see his face unless you squinted or he took it off.

it’s like it added more to his appeal in a way. he sat manspread and doing so, it gave you a one way ticket to stare straight down at his barely hidden bulge.

fuck, your mind started to ponder. you had so many unanswered questions. isn’t it painful driving around that hard—

“hey,” your raunchy thoughts get rudely interrupted and you don’t even realize how many minutes had passed from you being cooped up in your own lewd fantasm. geto’s driving a bit slower now, around sixty mph instead of his usual two hundred. he’s way in the lead, first place. one hand’s lazily on the steering wheel and he fakes a yawn.

oh he’s cocky.

with a quick glance out his mirror, he knew the other cars were far behind him and he now starts drifting near the freeway. with an intrigued hum, he notices just exactly what you were staring at. his lap. “don’t tell me this was the ride you thought i meant, sweetheart.”

“i—”

it’s like his cologne got louder.

you choked on your words, wondering if you were hearing right. suguru, the suguru geto was flirting with you?

and the thing that got you the most was that he wasn’t even looking at you anymore—every few seconds, you’d lock eyes against him near the ear view mirror, feeling hot once his eyes slowly rove down your figure through his dark tinted helmet.

not only was his cologne loud but so were your thoughts—shamelessly, you did think he was referring to that kind of ride minutes earlier.

and the more you stared at his hardened bulge through his grey sweats, the more you started to think. .

but, little did you know your dirty wish would be granted.

not even a few moment later, you’d find yourself fucked - literally.

geto positions you on his lap, halfway pulling down his loose sweats just so you could ride something else entirely.

instead of riding just his car — you rode his dick, and fuck was he just ridiculously big.

too big, and he knows it. geto groans once he’s buried full inside, lodging his thick cock in between your slimy gummy walls. “shit,” he’d hiss, his head occasionally tossing back once the ring piercing that’s stuck on his tip tap tap tap’s away against your precious g-spot. it swirls all around the inside of your cunt and your thighs struggled to stay open. it tickles, but you were far from laughing. he’s so big, easily rearranging your insides and be barely even had to move a muscle.

he’s ruthless - but your hips were even more ruthless though, far more.

geto knew all too well that this was dangerous—just one swerve from the swerving stimulation of bodies smacking against his and game fucking over.

you moan, burying your face into his neck as your hips continue to move against him. he’s still burning gas as your cunt’s just merrily drooling all down his length from each slapping thrust.

belatedly, your brows furrow, almost forgetting why you even showed up to this event. well, part of why you came. “f- fuck, what about t- the race?” you speak in a breathy tone, your tempo becoming more and more relentless. the salaciously enticing jerk of your unsteady hips gradually turn into rough unstable bounces and he kisses his teeth. geto feels the convulsing veins that run down his cock pulse right through him and between your walls, you feel it too.

“oh, sweetheart,” he huffs, his back of his helmet hitting against his headrest. looking at you with hazy hooded eyes, he flashes you a sleazy grin. “technically, i already won,” and you gasp, feeling him reach a gloved hand down between your rickety thighs. his touch was so gentle, you felt yourself shuddering from both twin digits that drag further down your chest. he cups one of your bouncing tits that pop out of your tank top, brushing a thumb against your sensitive nipple. “god, what a pretty fuckin’ body. look at you girl,” and he’s still got a hand on the steering wheel.

a trembling whimper dies out your throat at the feeling of his swollen fat cockhead vigorously thrusting in and out of your dribbling entrance.

you’re just so soaked. it’s like you can’t help but be sopping wet on his lap and he loves it. sloshes of sobs echo out of your pussy and your legs pathetically quaver directly on top of him.

both of you groan in complete unison and a big hand of his creeps further down, giving your ass a teasing squeeze. “fuuucck, reel those nasty hips. ride it baby, ride me, yeah,” and you hear the grumbling revs of his engine ring against your ears louder. it makes the entire car shake a bit despite him pushing down a few miles. with widened dewy eyes staring at the back of his car, you squint, seeing dozens of cars trying to catch up to geto.

they didn’t have a chance,

they looked like tiny splotching dots in the far distance. geto even had the audacity to not do his usual speed and yet he was still dusting the other racers.

typical.

“s- suguru,” you whine, the undersides of your thighs sticking against him. each time you bounced back on his cock, each ruthless ‘pap pap pap’ of your skin mashing against his and the clingy recoil never fails to leave you brain dead for a few seconds. he’s so thick. you swivel your hips around him, gasping every time his dick piercing scrapes against your clit. the cold material makes a good portion of your thighs quake and you can’t help but coo out a few sweet ‘ooh’ or ‘ah’s right next to the shell of his ear. your panties were lazily shoved to the side and he didn’t even bother taking them off.

yet.

“so fuckin’ big, shiiiit.” you’d whimper, trying to swerve your way all around him. he’s just too big, you were even surprised he fit. you had to go down slow, aligning yourself against him — every few seconds his cock would pop out of you, making that cute squelch sound that makes his suck his teeth in annoyance.

“mhm, ‘n you’re takin’ it so well. you’re a big girl, fuckin’ take it,” he rasps in a hushed tone, nipping a few teeth near the inside of your neck. his helmet along with his toothpick ends up falling near the side of his seat with a loud thud.

your hips were killer.

unlike any opponent he’s had to go up against. you’re happily squeezing around him like a vice, taking in his curved inches like a champ. “f- fuck, who taught you how ‘ta ride? heh, tryna give me a run for my money, hm pretty?”

your whiny moans only pitch louder once he grips a nice chunk of your ass with one hand, peering at his bedazzled dash. the speed was a bit over one fifty now but it didn’t even feel like it.

“ugh, ‘m gonna cum,” you gasp, growing more and more dumb the faster you bounced on his heavy throbbing cock. his peeling sack hangs from underneath and he’s so swollen, you feel it.

maddened angry balls entirely reddened and puffed up from the delicious stimulation. with every sharp pull of your hips bouncing up and down, he feels himself shriveling — he’s so sensitive inside of you, and he can almost taste his own pleasure. whilst you continue to twirl your ass around in rotation for him, you couldn’t help but shamelessly salivate at the thought of imagining just how full he might be.

“sugu—fuuuckk,” and a bead of sweat races down the side of your face. geto’s primarily focusing on the road, it’s an easy straight shot and with how it was practically the middle of the night it wasn’t that many cars except for the one’s participating in the annual street races.

“bet you are. sloppy girl,” he huffs, groaning at the echoing loud smacks of your ass. you’re mercilessly clamping down his lap over and over, preparing to gush all over the dick that’s currently nestled inside of you. he’s got such a mouth watering curve of his cock that makes your stomach twist and churn.

the kind of curve that doesn’t involve his motor vehicle, that kind.

geto’s dick knew how to do swerves on its own, it even knew how to carve an entire bumpy race track allllll through your insides with his fat pink tip. “touch yourself, pretty. gimme a show before you mess up my fuckin’ seats.”

you could hear the sass in his voice along with a drip of vex and you’d giggle if you weren’t being ruthless stuffed full of inches. “o- okay,” you breathe through clenched teeth, guiding your hands up and down your body. geto’s dark eyes stare at you intently.

he stared at the way your hands caress your pretty plump tits, feeling down the valley of your exposed chest. his eyes flicker toward you then back at the road, then at you again - he repeats it, feeling his own muscles starting to tighten through his clothing. “ngh, suguru. can’t hold—”

your addictive slams against his cock got more intense until he’s fully buried balls deep inside of your squeezing cunt. you hear the saturated plops that’s squealing out of your pussy and you can’t even believe that’s you that’s sounding like that.

your poor sweet cunt was louder than his radio, completely shrieking over some random chorus of a heavy metal song you didn’t even know was playing in the background.

“fuck, cum then. cum on me, girl,” he grunts, one hand grabbing a nice fat piece of your ass again before spanking it.

you moan, the sharp brief twinge of elation sending you a shiver that immediately sends convulses between your thighs. lewd filthy thoughts foil at your brain and pretty soon, the car steams up with steamy clouded fog.

erratic sharp breaths match each other’s pace and you’re left breathless. geto feels your legs on the verge of giving out and he snickers, bringing a gloved hand to stroke against your sopping pussy. “go on, don’t be shy. should make ya lick up the mess later anyway.”

whimpering, your release comes and fuck, a sharp scream ripples out from your throat once you’re finally coming undone on his cock. the wrinkled skin of his base continues to stick against his sack due to you bouncing against him.

it’s hot, literally.

with both plush mounds of skin harshly plummeting on top of each other, the heat of the car made it feel like the air conditioner wasn’t even on. “thaaat’s it, work those hips, goddamn,” and abruptly, he cuts off from his words after feeling his mushroom tip reach a certain spongey spot that’s buried way inside of your gripping walls.

you gasp once you feel him throb inside with a soft upward shimmy of his hips. milliseconds later, your thighs collapse down on him and you feel yourself succumbing. you’re creaming down his shaft with your slippery slick while at the very same time, struggling to catch your breath. as you weakly try to continue your grinding with your feeble knees, geto uses a single hand to quickly make a detour.

he was close.

the race car makes a swift turn to the left lane, driving a few more miles before he then turns the opposite direction — pulling over safely. with a cooing skrrrrt, his rubber tires come to a cruising stop and geto groans, gripping at his tensing bouncing thigh with his glove. the finish line was just a few feet away but he could care less.

once he puts his car in park, geto falls back into his seat with own sable dark eyes flickering back to the very depths of his skull.

you rode him good, good to the point where he doesn’t even know what to say for a hot second. blinking twice, geto smears his glossed lips together before exhaling, “phew,” and he swats another palm against your ass. black unkempt strands of hair tape against the center of forehead like glue whilst he’s finally got a good grip on your hips. “fuck, ‘m gonna cum too,” and your puffy folds continue to dribble with honeyed slick.

you’re damping his cock and the squelches you make, they were loud.

so wet and slimy. he could listen to it all day, just the sound of your sweet cunt whimpering out sweet sloshes of nothing. the overwhelming sensitivity leaves a sourly candied taste in your mouth and you whine, feeling him squeeze a hand against your right hip. with a raspy out of breath tone, he strokes a thumb underneath your quivering bottom lip. “ ‘s okay if i cum inside, pretty?”

“y- yeah, please,” you babble out in broken cries, feeling your tummy frantically heave in and out.

as he grabs your hips, steadying you—you intake a breath, remembering how many inches he was buried inside. your tummy tucks inward and you whimper, feeling him preparing to shoot pure blanks. with a size like his, geto’s cock never failed to leave its sloppy infamous mark.

you’re just marveled at how fat his tip is, it’s voluntarily french-kissing up against sweet beloved cervix that’s screaming out curses just as much as you. he’s got two hands on your veering hips, smooth fabric of his racing gloves sliding up and down your wobbly. with pouty compressed lips, you moan, bringing your hands to grab onto his shoulders. “cum, cum in me—fuck.”

geto huskily groans, tossing his head back once your hips zealously reel into him right as he gives you the final perfunctory thrust that finishes him off. immediately, he’s shooting out ribbons of hot cum that pour into you. you’re panting as he slows down, glossy eyes raking at his body. you could see a bit of his tatted sleeves peek from underneath his shirt - his tense muscles bulging.

“god, better take all of it,” he groans, pretty black lashes sticking against his droopy hooded sockets.

it spurts out slowly but surely.

globs and globs of frothy cum bubble down the swollen sides of his cock and you feel it all. it’s toasty and warm and as he’s pouring his all into you, painting your gummy walls his pristine-white color, you couldn’t help but lean in.

geto’s matching your breathy irregular pants before he feels your trembling lips crash onto his. “mmf,” he moans against your lips, tilting his head back slightly to a certain attractive degree. a hand of his reaches toward his radio, turning the middle notch all the way down just to hear the squelches of his own seed slobbering down your slick cunt.

he tastes sweet. you moan at the lingering taste of fresh cooling mint that lives on his tongue, feeling his hands tighten around your waist.

oh, he’s obsessed—

screw the race by this point, all he wanted at this moment was you.

geto’s still got such a large load that’s dumping into you raw and it even oozes down past your thighs, a few creamy droplets plopping down on his velvet seats. he grunts, both twisting tongues ferociously tangling against each other whilst your pussy’s still squeezing down on him like a vice. a glossed translucent ring forms around his base and he feels you trying to touch yourself with two curious fingers.

with a slight smack, he swats your hand away and you whine in his mouth. “heh, hands to yourself,” you pout because earlier he let you touch yourself but now, no. he teases, breaking away from the hot kiss. a stringy cobweb of saliva tears back from both lax plump lips before he playfully nibbles on your chin. geto notices how slumped out you were and a broad open hand of his crawls between your legs. “ooooh,” and he lifts you up from his swollen flaccid cock, gazing at just how much of a fill he’s pumped into you. “well look at that,” and you whimper, feeling him strum a thumb down your drooling cunt. “would be a shame if it all went to waste,” then he quirks a brow, sliding a tongue across his lips. “princess, stick your head out the window for me real quick.”

“out the wind—”

and not even seconds later, you find yourself literally being bent over, halfway hanging out of his rolled down tinted window. geto wasn’t done, at least not yet.

your sheeny glossed lips immediately part into an ‘o’ as a sweet gasp leaves your lips. with clammy hands, they grip onto the edge of his window and you whimper once he delves his long tongue inside of your cunt. your fingers gripped against the window so hard that it ends up leaving dozens of your cute fingerprints against the tinted glass.

“oh my goddd,” you babble out in elongated sweet syllables. with your pretty eyes bulging, you gasp at feeling the tip of his tongue swirl all around inside of you.

geto lowly grunts, lapping his twitching pink muscle down your runny folds back and forth. between your legs—he’s a menace, and it was no prying him off.

at all.

he doesn’t even bat an eye at the simple fact that he’s eating his own cum out of you, unapologetically savoring the bittersweet taste that lands right on his flavored tastebuds. your legs were so weak and you can feel his warm breath continuously fan against and on your sopping folds as he chuckles.

“my my, look at her. this prize’s way better than some money,” he hums, using a leather thumbed glove to swipe down your entrance. he’s slow, dragging it all the way down just to watch spurts of your slick pop onto his digit. you’re just so wet, metallic fingers of his ghost further down your clit before you whine. geto sees your cunt pulsing from the sheer thrill and he snickers, smacking a palm right against your slobbering core. “she’s fuckin’ nasty today, yeah?” and his eyes flicker toward your drooling cunt, giving it a teasing suck. “mmph, listen to her with me, gorgeous,” and one spank against your pussy turns into one, then two, then three.

growing quiet, you listen to the weeping sounds purring out of your own cunt. so loud, so shamelessly loud. you could hear it and he barely even had to touch you. you’re drenching up his seats and you couldn’t help but bite your lip, feeling your heart pound ruthlessly out your chest. his tongue knew just where to go—it’s creating a path of its own, laying flat against your clit before sucking against every tender spot. your legs were on its final hinges. you felt like they were about to snap shut. you’re staring out the window, still not seeing any cars which was good.

if anyone saw you like this, being eaten out in this kind of position, you don’t know what would happen.

geto resumes to flick his long tongue down your swollen slit, lapping up the last few droplets of his own cum that tries to dribble down the crevices of your thighs. another final swat from his mean palm sets against your clit and you let off a cute squeal, your tummy instinctively caving in. “so much back talk from a pussy this fuckin’ sloppy. oughta teach it some manners, pretty girl,” he grumbles, and your eyes blissfully roll back once you hear him starting to sluuuurp.

geto had no shame — it was decided, this was far better than any race he’s ever had.

his teeth nip near the inside corners of your thighs before he trails back to munching on your clit, burying his nose deep. “mhm,” he groans, and it only takes a few seconds before his jaw finally locks. geto reaches down, giving his cock a few solid pumps. his pretty reddened tip was angry, it still had dried spurts of cum racing from the sides and he grunts at the memory of being inside of you only just a few minutes ago. whilst his face’s shoved right between your thighs—you don’t even realize you’re trying to reach back to grab onto his hair. you’re hesitant though, and he finds it cute. departing his wet slick lips briefly, a wry grin spreads against his lips. “kinky,” the dark haired man flicks a tongue across his lips, savoring your juices that smeared against his mouth. “don’t be shy. do it,” and you moan once he teasingly whistles against your pussy, kissing against your nub. “pull my hair girl. pull.”

you give it a good yank and his head pushes forward into you—geto’s lengthy tongue dips further inside your cunt and you whimper, gnawing the inside of your stiff jaw. “fuck,” you gasp, and as his tongue gradually curls various bubbly letters inside of your pussy.

it multitasks, continuing to send your entire body a plethora of fluttering butterflies. he was so sloppy, seeping from the corners of his mouth with your slick and just your slick. his head moving side to side eagerly and every few seconds, he’s got to flick away long shaggy strands of his hair. geto’s proudly devouring you entirely whilst you’re just literally hanging out his window.

“oh, come on. harder, sweetheart. even i can do better than tha—ngh.”

with more force, you tug roughly on his pretty black strands and you heard the most sluttiest moan pour from his lips. god, he was so close that you could literally feel that infamous smug grin spread against his lips. geto brings a fat round thumb to run down your drooling cunt, giving it a ‘good job’ kiss. “atta girl. that’s my girl.”

geto ends up coaxing orgasm after orgasm out of over and over and over again.

he’s mean with his tongue, slurping everything out of you until you had no more - nothing more to coal his chin with. his favorite thing to do was to playfully bite against your clit, feeling you writhe and shiver all because of his mouth.

you end up leaving his entire chin with a pretty stream of your syrupy slick. geto’s panting, falling back after talking you through your nth orgasm, and with a peek through his rear view mirror, he spots the remaining race cars that were finally approaching the finish line.

“ah, about time,” geto rolls his eyes, sliding his lips near the corner of his chin where a bit more of your slick laid.

he acted like it was nothing, like he didn’t just have his tongue shoved inches deep inside of your cunt, stuffing his race gloved fingers in and out of you until you gushed right down his lengthy thick digits. you’re just sat on his lap, and you’re too dumb to move an inch. “heh, comfy?” he purrs, dragging his seatbelt across both stacked bodies. you fall against his chest, inhaling his signature manly scent and feel the car jolt once he puts it back in drive.

needy silence was your only reply and he tsks, resting his chin on top of your head before driving toward the finish line. it was barely even a few feet away, and waiting there was a bunch of fans that were awaiting to greet their new winner.

geto couldn’t care less though—he had you on his lap and he could already feel himself bulging again.

he found it cute how you were just clinging onto him now.

maybe you were delusional—maybe it was the fangirl in you screaming, begging for more, but your body wasn’t just begging anymore, it ached for more.

he drives you back toward the car meet up spot, helping you fix back your skirt. with wobbly legs, you step out of the flaunting vehicle with the help of his burly arms wrapped around you. “t- thank you,” you pant, trying to catch your breath, even still. geto stands up tall and he completely towers over you. you feel so small all of a sudden, watching as he puts his helmet back on.

“anything for a fan,” he coos, and he brushes a thumb against your lips. just a single gesture just as that felt so intimate. your eyes lock with his for a long moment, and just before you could say anything more, he mumbles. “oh, you probably want an autograph?”

your eyes light up and you grow sheepish, awkwardly tugging on the vip-checked lanyard that wraps around your throat. “yeah, please.”

“such manners like a good girl, cute,” and you bring out a magazine with his face plastered on it as a headline for this week’s up and coming races in tokyo. “nah,” he waves it away, and as your brow quirks, he takes out a sharpie. geto slides the cap in between his teeth before he glances at you. “pull your shirt down real quick, sweetheart,” and without a second thought, you tug down the hem of your shirt, barely exposing your chest.

geto’s eyes rove down your skin before he swiftly signs right against your left tit. the ink softly runs against your skin and you gasp, watching as he marks up the upper part of your chest. “aaaand, perfect,” he concludes, adding a ‘xo’ at the end of his signature. geto puts the cap back on and he flashes you a sly expression. “so i’ll see you at the next race?”

he starts walking away before you could even reply and you feel the weight of your shaky legs grow heavy. “y.. yeah,” and with dewy eyes, you watch as he steps in his car, playfully revving his engine at you.

the cool air sets against your skin once more as you stood there with shaky legs. the car meet slowly gets more crowded as the rest of the racers pass the finish line.

but, your brows furrow once you realize you felt a bit . . . empty between your legs.

with a soft gasp, you squint near the inside of geto’s car before he pulls off.

hanging over his rear view mirror instead of the fuzzy dice you once saw—was nothing other than your panties,

his real prize.

[fanaticalthings]

I want an AU where after Jason gets brought back to life, he channels his inner rage and turmoil into the academics instead of murder

Talia has like infinite money and a crap ton of influence, so she can absolutely get Jason the best tutors and can easily get him into the most prestigious schools if Jason wanted to (she doesn't need to do that though because Jason's just smart enough to get into them on his own)

The major he chooses? Med.

Why? Because Bruce dropped out of med school.

Jason practically flies through all the secondary education that he needs to catch up on and is already en route to earning his bachelor's AND his master's.

And it'd be so incredibly funny if the way Bruce and Jason reunite in this AU was purely by coincidence.

Bruce (as Brucie Wayne) offers to show up as a guest lecturer at Hudson University (the school Dick attended but dropped out of so double points for Jason), maybe to talk about future career paths and job positions at WE idk

So as Bruce is just wandering around the campus, he randomly bumps into a student and immediately puts on the Brucie act and is all "Oh my, I'm SO sorry, I'm just a klutz haha" only to stop dead silent when he makes eye contact with a very alive, very grown Jason Todd, who also stops dead in his tracks, mouth agape, staring at Bruce like the world's about to end

And before Bruce can get his thoughts straight, Jason just bolts out of there like his life depends on it, and Bruce is just in shambles for the rest of the day.

It doesn't help that the person giving Bruce the tour is all like "Oh yeah, that's Jason, he's one of the heads on our student council haha, anyways, this way, Mr. Wayne." and Bruce is just stood there bluescreening.

----

Alternatively, it'd be kinda funny if this all happened AFTER the events of UTRH where after the final encounter with Bruce and Joker and the whole explosion, Jason's just like "yk what, maybe I'm just gonna turn over a new leaf and pursue a higher education"

So while Gotham's still reeling from the aftermath of Jason's near takeover as the top crime lord and Bruce is still painstakingly trying to figure out where his son went, the whole time Jason's just been chilling on a school campus and Bruce just so happens to bump into his son (who, last time they met, tried to kill Bruce and blew up the building they were all in) and Jason's just all normal-looking with his textbooks and nerdy glasses and Bruce doesn't know whether to scream or cry.