#because he's a freak and gets off on that

[cupidstrace]

You're having a baby. He's freaking the fuck out.

Gojo Satoru never wanted kids.

Too messy. Too unpredictable. Too dangerous.

All of the above if, god forbid, the kids pop out and end up like him. The idea of some tiny version of himself running around with cursed energy leaking out of their sticky little fingers has always made his skin crawl. Not because he couldn’t handle it – he could handle anything – but because the world couldn’t. Because he knows exactly how that story ends.

A kid like that wouldn’t get to be just a kid. Not with his blood or his power or his name. They’d be taken and dissected before they could be loved, worshipped before they could be understood or even understand how to. Thrown into a battlefield before they’d ever lose a tooth.

But worst of all – the fear that’s kept him up more nights than he’ll ever admit – is that they’d have his eyes.

Those unnatural, glowing, light-refracting things. A curse disguised as beauty. A beacon of danger. And what if his baby came out looking like him? What kind of life would they ever get to have?

No, he decided a long time ago: No tiny Gojos. No soft cheeks or first steps or lullabies. No cursed bloodline dragging another child into a war they didn’t ask for. He doesn’t want to leave a legacy.

He just wants peace.

So, of course, you had to go and ruin everything.

“You better not be crying,” you whimper from the hospital bed, your fingers squeezing his so tight he swears you might shatter bone.

“I’m not,” he lies. (He absolutely is.)

“You are,” you whine, breath catching in your throat as another contraction ripples through your body. “Satoru, I swear to– fuck! You’re not even the one pushing something the size of a watermelon out of your–”

“Okay, okay!” he blurts out, brushing his thumb over the back of your hand like it might soothe you. “I know, baby, I’m not leaving your side. Not for food, not for water, not even if Shoko threatens to kill me. Again.”

You blink up at him through bleary eyes, sweaty, furious, and glowing in a way that makes his chest ache. “I literally told you to get me ice chips five minutes ago.”

“Ignore past you,” he says solemnly. “Present you needs me more.”

You roll your eyes, the little curve in the corner of your lip sending a warm tingle spiraling from his heart to his fingertips.

He doesn’t know why someone like you could love someone like him. Much less want children with him. But you do, somehow.

The midwife says it’s time.

And when she tells you to push, you stare directly into your husband’s eyes like this is his fault – like your withering glare is some sort of karmic retribution for him cumming in you nine months ago (which is maybe not entirely untrue).

“Don’t look at me like that!” he squeaks, panicked, as you scream bloody murder and clutch at him like you want to take him with you. “You look so pretty all the time, especially when you're ovulating, I didn’t know it’d come to this–!”

But the words catch in his throat as a cry cuts through the room.

Small and sharp and alive.

The nurse is saying something, handing you something, but all Satoru can hear is the way the baby is crying. Loud and trembling and needy and pissed off. Exactly the way you cry and hide in his arms when you’re frustrated.

You let out a shaky sigh, settling down as you rock the little bundle in your arms.

There’s something in the shape of the face, the tilt of the nose, the set of the lips, that is all you. Undeniably, irrevocably, painfully you–

Oh.

It opens its eyes.

And for a second, he forgets how to breathe.

They’re bright blue. Too bright. His. The kind that twist the light around them into something gleaming. But there’s something different, too, something soft. Something gentle.

They shimmer like starbursts on water. Like they were made to reflect everything good in the world back at him.

And suddenly, he’s not afraid anymore. Because they aren’t just his eyes. They’re yours, too, in shape and in spirit and in the way they seem to say I’m here, I’m real, I’m yours.

Everything about this is unfamiliar and impossibly small and he’s terrified he’s going to fuck it all up somehow. But those eyes?

They’re beautiful.

You’re holding your baby like it’s made of starlight and miracles, and your lips are trembling like you’re about to cry but you’re too tired, and when you look up at him, it all clicks into place.

God.

You’re beautiful.

You, and your baby, and he loves you so, so much, it’s insane.

Yeah.

Maybe having kids isn’t so bad after all.

[tojisteddy]

After little to no consideration, I thought about inmate!simon.

inmate!simon, who’s been in and out of jail his whole life but really did try his best to stay out of the system when he started dating you. well, tried not to get caught, but they’re kinda the same thing, no? What was his job exactly? No one likes a hit man until you need one.

It’s after you had your baby, little Robin, Simon got caught up on a mission. It was supposed to be in and out— who would’ve thought it was the man pulling the strings over some President? Price’s own target. So someone had to take the fall, for the time being.

Does Simon hate being in there? Course he does. No one likes being jail unless they have no where better to be. But he promises you it’s just six months. And it’ll only be six months. Why? Because he made a deal with the devil John Price that would get him out of that shit hole only if Simon worked for him.

inmate!simon who’s letters are extremely plain, ‘worked out a bit on the yard, almost got in a fight but the guy fucked off when he saw me. The foods still shit but I ate.’ But he’ll end it off with something so fucking sweet, ‘hug the kid a little tighter and a little longer for me. I’ll take all the responsibilities when I get out, change every nappy they ever have. And you sweetheart, I think about you every day, every hour. My darling [+], my all, I know I hurt you this time, but I’ll be there for you soon baby. Just wait for me. Please.’

inmate!simon, who gets visits twice every two weeks from you. One with Robin so they can see their father, Simon will put his fingers to the glass and cutely coo to get your child’s attention. He even smiles— okay, maybe not a proper one. But his eyes are gleaming like stars as he hears his baby babble ‘dada’ and ‘wub,’ heart swelling at how fantastic his one year olds drawings are, “Bloody incredible artist you are baby, Micheal Angelo doesn’t got shit on you.”

the second visit— let’s just say, it’s never just you two just catching up.

inmate!simon who whispers the nastiest, freakiest, down right sluttiest things imaginable through the phone as he watches you try to contain yourself with the vibrator you got stuffed in your cunt. How’d you get it past security? Don’t ask. Your hands trembling as you cough the phone. Your eyes hazy as you look at the hunk of man through the bulletproof glass, his scared face and tattoos— you gasp at the sight of him. The vibrator buzzing inside your tight walls.

“Such a dirty little slut, getting off while someone’s fuckin grandma is crying next to you. Bet your dyin t’ have your pretty pussys stuffed with my cock, hm? Have you sobbing while I play with your little button, ma hands goin from your wet cunt to your pretty nipples, to your neck while I fuck you stupid— you’d like that? Wouldn’t you?”

inmate!simon who gets off on you getting off because he just can’t get off without seeing you face to face, loves to how you react his and only his husky voice talk to your through the glass. How you drool, and whimper and mewl his name, even humping at the damn chair if you’re too out of it.

And sure inmate!simon’s been escorted out of visitation by security, right after you’ve cum and all— once off catching someone sneaking a glance at you, of course the blonde had to teach him a lesson for keeping his eyes away from you, slammed his head on the table with not a fuck given. The other for Simon “encouraging” you to be the freaks you are.

He could only let that conniving smirk dance on his perfect lips, he’ll yell as they take him the door, “You call me dolly, not finished with you yet.” And it simply makes you melt, excitedly blowing a kiss to your man goodbye.

inmate!simon who spends his time working out or reading. He keeps to himself most of the time, moseying around the courtyard on a good day. On a good day, he plays barber and will do just about anyone’s hair— cutting hair, buzzcuts & line ups, trimming beards, maybe even teaching someone a lesson with a spare blade, Simon does it all!

inmate!simon who gets out with more tattoos than he went in with but they’re not shit by any means, well drawn and taken care of. Simon only shrugs, let’s the end of his lip curve up, “Little babe didn’t get the talent from no one love.”

a/n: more one day idk.

most recent

[mercurysilk]

Mark Lee as the boyfriend who simply cannot stop bringing you up

Mark is for sure the kind of person who, once he's in a relationship and deeply in love, can't help but talk about his significant other every chance he gets. Whether it’s relevant or not, he’ll bring them up because they’re always on his mind. I know this because he's like this when it comes to me #AskAboutMe🙂‍↕️

During a break from practice, Mark sits huddled in the corner, sipping from his water bottle as Haechan approaches. “What is that?” Mark asks, putting his water bottle down. “Menu.” Haechan replies, leaning down and handing his phone off. Mark scrolls through the menu aimlessly, unable to find anything that sounds good to him—then he stops abruptly. Haechan, growing increasingly impatient as he stands in front of Mark, perks up hopefully, thinking Mark has finally made up his mind about his order. Mark looks up at Haechan and holds the phone up with a grin. “Man y/n would die if she saw this. Delivering restaurants never have this on the menu.” Haechan sighs and lowers his head before reaching for the phone, only to have his hand quickly swatted aside. “I'm still looking!” Mark shouts, clutching Haechan's phone tightly in his grasp. “Then look!” Haechan snaps back at him, “Actually look.”

Packing in his last bag, Mark thanks his manager before climbing into the van. He's riding with Jeno, who is mostly absorbed in his phone. Mark usually takes a power nap or listens to music on his way to Music Bank, but right now, his eyes are glued to Jeno's phone screen. “What?” Jeno asks, laughing at mark who was currently leaning over him. “I'm bored.” Mark laughs, and Jeno shifts to give him a better view of his phone. “I was just watching the highlights of yesterday's race...you don't really care about this though.”  Mark shrugs, eyes wandering over the screen. “I can explain it to you, this is the—” Mark interrupts, “Wait does that say Lego?” Jeno nods. “Yeah, Lego is a sponsor for Mclauren th—” “Dude this is reminding me of that one time y/n was freaking out over this one Lego set…which one was it?” Mark recalls, pursing his lips as he tries to remember. “I'm pretty sure it was a car one too. Crazy... Maybe it was F1 related.” Jeno gazes at Mark with idle curiosity, while Mark chuckles sheepishly. “My bad for cutting you off, I just remembered... continue, I'm listening.”

Walking back into the kitchen with his phone in hand, Mark searches up the recipe once again. “Yeah, its butter. You're good.” Jaemin nods at his confirmation and adds butter into the pot he had been stirring. “You didn't have to do this you know.” Mark says walking to stand beside Jaemin and lean against the counter. Jaemin waves his unoccupied hand dismissively. “I just felt like cooking today.” Mark chuckles lightly as Jaemin add more to the pot. “Oh, I get that. It's like a mood you get in, right?” Jaemin snorts and looks at mark, “and what would you know about a cooking mood?” Mark tilts his head slightly, a smile spreading across his face, “Me? Nothing really. But y/n talks about these random urges she gets to cook or bake all the time. so, I'm assuming it's like that” Jaemin raises an eyebrow before shaking his head and facing the pot. “I should've known that's where that was going.”

What was meant to be a quick trip to the store is ending up taking much longer than planned. “Are you sure this store even has it?” Mark asks, feeling defeated. “Yes.” Renjun replies plainly, “I mean they could be sold out but, I doubt that.” Mark's shoulders slump at that, and Renjun bursts into laughter. “Let's just go check over there really quick and if it's not there then we can leave.” Their endless search for something clearly not there finally concludes in the back of the store, near the clearance section. “Well, I guess they are sold out...” Renjun comments, throwing a timid glance in Mark's direction. Mark gives him a sarcastic smile, “I told you that. Just order it onl— Oh my god!” Mark runs over to a nearby shelf and picks something up. “What?! Is that it?” Renjun asks excitedly, quickly following behind mark—his face dropping in disappointment once he sees what's in his hands. “Y/n has been trying to get her hands on this figure for the longest time...and it was just back here!” Mark turns to him, shoving the box in his face happily. “Congratulations.” Renjun replies snarkily before walking off.

Sat outside of Market Restaurant waiting for his order to arrive, mark reaches over to Jisung's plate. Jisung playfully pushes his hand away, “She said she'll be right back with your food.”  Mark frowns. “You'd let me starve until then?” Jisung smirks in disbelief at Mark's exaggeratedly fake sad tone. “You won't starve; besides, you didn't even want to come here with me at first.” Jisung munches on more fries as Mark takes a sip of water, keeping his gaze fixed on Jisung. “You’re being so mean right now...” mark trails off as Jisung pushes his plate towards the middle of the table, offering. Mark flashes a big smile at Jisung, grabs a few fries, and slides the plate back. “What made you order breakfast? They said it'd take a while since its after twelve now.” Jisung asks. “Is it…like a y/n thing?” Mark glances up in shock, “Yeah actually. Need to see if it's good to get the word back, you know she just has to know all the good breakfast spots.” Mark explains with a small smile, “I'll get a sandwich to-go though.” Jisung nods, taking a sip from his drink. “I figured.”

As soon as the live ends, everybody gets up to stretch. “What are y'all about to go do?” Haechan asks as they all move towards the exit of Mark's hotel room. “I'm going to sleep.” Jaemin replies simply and Jeno seconds that. “We're probably going to order something then go to sleep as well.” Chenle says, gesturing toward himself and Jisung. “I'll go eat with them two, then I'll go to sleep as well.” Renjun adds. Haechan agrees, “I'm sleepy too but I probably won't go straight to sleep so I don't know...what about you?” Haechan turns to mark. “I'm tired too, but I have to stay up a little bit longer.” Mark points to Jisung and Chenle, “can I come eat with y'all too?” Chenle gives him a thumbs up and Jeno asks why he has to stay up, but before he could reply, Jaemin and Haechan both answer for him. “Y/n.” Mark stares at them in shock. “How did you know?” They look each other then back at mark. “How could we NOT know?” Haechan asks in disbelief.

Bonus:

Not long after you step into the building, you are greeted by Chenle. Mark had rushed out earlier, forgetting his phone, so you reluctantly made your way to his workplace to return it to him. “Hey Chenle, I’m glad to see you.” you wave before reaching into your purse and grabbing Mark’s phone.

“Can you bring this to Mark? It’s his phone.” Chenle returns your greeting before taking the phone. “You don’t want to come by the room?” He asks and you say not today—your eyes locking on his wrist.

He notices your staring and holds his arm out to you. “I’m sorry…” you apologize shyly, “These are just so cute. Is it va—” Chenle cuts you off mid-sentence. “Van Cleef? Yes.”

You hum excitedly. “I thought so. I lov—”

He interrupts you again, speaking knowingly. “You love Van Cleef and you’ve been thinking about getting the tiger eye motif but you’re on the fence.” Chenle holds his wrist up and points, “Get it, you like it.”

You stammer, bewildered. “How d—”

Chenle interrupts again, marking the third time. “I know because your boyfriend doesn’t shut up.”

[biteyoubiteme]

something new

bestman!yeonjun x maidofhonor!fem!reader

synopsis: the one where you are the maid of honor at your best friend's wedding and have to spend too much time with the best man. wc: 6.2k ✶ warnings: nsfw! smut with a little bit of plot, teasing, slow sex, dacryphillia, slight nipple play, no pull-out mentions, no protection, slight overstimulation, im sorry if i forgot anything ><

an: i dont know what it is about wedding media but i love it so so so so so so much, i will eat up any movie or book or fic talking about a wedding and this was only scratching the surface of that ;-; i hope you guys like it <333 not really proofread sorry ><

[m.list] [summer collection m.list]

“No, no, the flowers were supposed to be delivered at the back entrance so that the chair people could just unload without going through the kitchen-” you could see the panic rising on your friend's face, her hair thrown up in pink rollers, wispy strands curling next to her cheeks, eyes wide enough to tell you she was about to freak out more than she already had been all this moring. 

“It's okay, I sicked Yeonjun on them, he's over their bossing them all around to fix it, you are supposed to be upstairs with the champagne-” you knew one of your tasks had been keeping the bride calm, and you had hoped for just a moment where you went around placing table settings while the other bridesmaids would have been keeping occupied. But just as you should have expected, there was no preoccupying her with sitting in her dressing room waiting for the wedding to start when so much needed to be done on your end. 

You didn't need to be on the front lines, bossing people around, calling in orders, and accepting their deliveries, but it had been the one thing you wanted to do for the bride to be. As soon as she had asked you to be her maid of honor, you knew she would panic, the adrenaline already coursing through her when she asked you, hands shaking in excitement when she showed you the ring Taehyun had perfectly picked out. 

She didn't need to ask you to help, not when it was exactly what you were so excited to do. For years, she had gushed about having a perfect wedding, had planned it all out in her free time, the second she felt in her heart of hearts that Teahyun was the one. And as much as it she believed it would be a turn off for him to find out she was so invested in their future he had only chuckled and kissed the top of her head because it was so entirely her to plan a whole wedding for a date that wasnt set, for a ring that wasnt even on her finger just yet. 

It had only taken him a few months to pop the question after. The answer pulling every binder and magazine she had looked over in her free time out before her to worry and pick over. It had been one tearful call about invitations that finally pushed you into action. Where you nearly begged her to take over most of the work, the planning had mostly been done, she knew what she wanted, but you would execute the vision she had held and make sure she was actually present on the day of her wedding, not thinking about the photographer when she should be so in love and lost in Taehyun she didnt need to have any other thoughts. 

You hadn't known what to expect, you were no expert by any means, but you pulled on your best nice but passive aggressive voice and called florists like you were handling the stock market and not ordering hundreds of lilies. Never had you known exactly how mean people could be, not until you were knee deep in wedding planning and everyone was cutting throats to get the next best spot on a registry, a venue tour, or an interview with a string quartet. 

It wasn't even your wedding, but it might as well have been with the way you elbowed your way into a dress shop with a rack sale of designer that frankly didn't look half as good as what you had expected. But that was the fun of it, and for more than half of the time you were arguing over the phone, you had one little annoying man mocking you on your shoulder. 

“Just give me the phone- they aren't listening to you-” his voice setting your face into a scowl. 

Choi Yeonjun had never been your friend, not because you hadn't wanted to be his friend, but because you hadn't known him. He had been a long lost bestie of Taehyun from his college years, someone the happy couple went and visited all the way out in California around twice a year. You had seen the pictures, heard the stories, and kept your distance. 

He wasn't all that bad, at least not at first, not when he had moved back to your city right around the time of the wedding prep. He was a charmer, his smile the kind that worked to muddle anyone's insides, just as well as it had your own. And he had taken it upon himself to help you out because he was your wedding counterpart. Taehyun had asked him to be his best man at the same dinner you had been invited to when the two of you had been introduced. 

“You'll just love Yeonjun, he's such a gentleman, and he's funny in a bit of a grandpa way,” your best friend had prefaced the dinner, and you had walked away with that very impression. 

All until you had finally shared your first wedding conversation together. The binders placed before you, his slim fingers flipping through a bridal catalog as you explained the next week's prep for booking appointments, finding time for fittings, contacting friends and family. He had looked it all over and told you with an air of cockness that was suffocating in an instant, that you were doing it all wrong. “Here, let me see that,” your planner held in his hand as he scrutinized everything you had been working to achieve. 

In a week, he had moved from casual new friend with the same goal of relieving the weight of a wedding off of your shared friends to an annoying brother, who thought he knew all, that you never knew you would have. 

Yeonjun was casual, laid back just enough to give an air of relaxation when in reality it was what he needed to mask the calculations he was making to achieve his perfectionism. It bit into you, annoyingly like a mosquito you just couldn't swat. Because, although he wasn't always right, he sure as hell was never really all that wrong. Your plans had been a weak attempt at organization, and Yeonjun had come in like a belt that sinched the plans into place and held them tight. 

For months, the two of you had found a friendship that was on the cusp of battle. You two traveled like the children of your friends, following behind them happily touring venues with love-sick smiles as you two found yourself bickering about florists and reception plans. You couldn't deny that either of you needed the other. Because you were just as useful and just as annoying to him as he was to you. You had connections, living in the city for so long, a foothold on the knowledge of the best deals, the best spots, and you knew exactly how to plan around the families. 

Yeonjun was graced with the ability to sweet talk just about anyone who looked his way; he didn't even have to try. He’d smile, that grin hanging on the edge of his mouth as he welcomed the person he talked to into a conversation that felt as if it was held between childhood friends and not strangers. He could convince anyone to give their spot in line up for a sample sale, talk about tailoring like he was well versed with a sewing machine, to bump elbows with the seamsters to get the best deal on the groomsmen's suits. 

It had been very abrimable in the beginning, until it turned into a competition. Over dinner the both of you sat side by side, going back and forth on what you had achieved to help the wedding planning run with ease. Even when you had gone to the same venue to secure a viewing, your proud moment was shot through with Yeonjuns reminder that he had been the one to finally seal the deal. 

It made you want to clench your fists and stomp a foot like you were some toddler who didn't get their turn on their favorite toy. No one could boil your blood as thoroughly as Yeonjun could by doing your job in the same way you did his. 

For weeks, you had held back the complaints, because they had little to stand on. Yeonjun was not doing it truly to mess with you; it just so happened to be his favorite part of the wedding planning. That's what got you, that he loved to watch you reach out for something, only for him to swoop in at the last second and secure it. As if the hotel booking for the bachelor and bachelorette parties were on a shelf only one step too high for you, your fingers just brushing the edge of it until he came behind you, reaching it and passing it to you with ease. Every, “you don't need to thank me,” a pin you wished to prick into his skin just so that he could feel that annoying burn. 

He was helpful, he made plans and stuck to them, and so to get back at him in even the smallest ways, you sweet-talked your way into getting both parties an upgrade to suites instead of mid-level rooms. His jaw would tick, fingers tapping against the tablecloth as he nodded in solidarity. A silent match set evening the playing field. 

If it had just been the planning, it would have been enough for you to forget the second the wedding was over. But even when you shouldn't have been thinking about him, he was on your mind. 

The entirety of the bachelorette party had been spent on the Vegas Strip, fully planned to make sure that the joining bachelor party would never cross your path at any point. The two of you had been thorough in your itineraries so that there was no hint of overlap until the end of the night when you were headed up the elevators to your rooms in the same hotel. 

It was supposed to be brainless, all past the airport trips and split ubers. Because in all the planning, you had not thought to think about how love struck your friend actually was. Her hand was twisting in Taehyun's the second you were supposed to pass your tickets over when boarding. “Please, it's not like we're partying on the plane, we can split up once we get to the hotel, just switch with me,” 

“But-” and you would have given her anything, it was her weekend, her month, her year, but sitting next to Yeonjun after late night bickering matches back and forth over flower arrangements felt like a punishment. 

“It's fine with me, it's not even that long of a flight,” the weight of his arm slung across your shoulder making you instinctively dig your elbow into his side. 

“Yeah, it's fine with me too,” your friend doesn't even notice your pursed lips, not that she should, because the trip was for her and Taehyun to have fun, not worry about whether or not their best man and maid of honor got along fine enough to sit next to each other on an airplane. 

But it was how fun Yeonjun found it to agree, knowing you wanted to put up a fight, his niceness eating at you until you wanted to scream. He didn't even stop to think twice before lifting your carry on into the overhead compartment for you, letting you take the window seat. You couldn't be mad at him, but it didn't stop you from feeling annoyed when he muttered, “You know you don't have to pretend you don't like me.” 

“I am indifferent toward you,” your eyes closing as you leaned your head back against the rest, because you couldn't look at him, not when his hair was hanging in his eyes in fine wispy strands, his grin gold-touched and impossible to deny. Maybe that was the problem you had with him, he walked through life like it was easy, effortlessly so, that looks and short shrugs got everyone everything they wanted. 

“Sure,” the sarcasm dripping from him disgustingly. He sat back in his seat, spreading his legs just wide enough so that your knees bumped, thigh warm and flush against yours for the whole of the plane ride. 

The touch had been laced in poison, his words sinking into you the whole trip, drinks making it hard to push the idea of him down deep. Because every second you looked at your best friend, her ring on her finger, the bride-to-be sash across her chest, a direct reminder of Taehyun and with Taehyun, Yeonjun. He popped up in every conversation, every thought, until it was too much for you to keep in. “He's so….” 

“He's so what?” your friends asked, an array of adjectives thrown around the bar like the pretty bouquet Yeonjun had drawn up based on your best friend's collage of her favorite flowers. 

“Devastating,” you had sighed the words, felt it deep in your chest that it was the only word you could allow yourself to label him with. He was a tornado to your clean acre of land, your mind and feelings twisting up in him every time he walked into a room and opened his pretty mouth. He left everything in disarray, and it made you dizzy. 

“I think he likes you,” and even several shots deep, it had been the steadiest your best friend had spoken that night, her shrug the hammer needed for you to truly look at him past annoyance. And that night, when you had all stumbled to your rooms, giggling and easy to forget just how regrettable late nights like these felt the morning after, you let yourself think of him. 

And when you pulled yourself up the next morning, craving a coffee that wasn't brewed in a machine plugged into the wall of the room you slept, you found yourself in the same elevator with Yeonjun, and you couldn't run from him on the ride down. 

The two of you leaned back against the wall and watched the doors shut without a word. He had sunglasses on inside, as if he were a pop star and not hungover, and if anyone could have pulled it off, it was him. And usually, where you would have filled the space with teasing, you took the silence for what it was. Because even having been drunk last night, it didn't erase any of the thoughts you had had of him. 

Maybe he had only been annoying to you because he was everything your friends had been telling you he was. Annoying because you couldn't find something to pick away at until you could find a reason not to like him, just to stand out from the crowd. But he didn't let you, even hung over with sunglasses inside, dressed down in baggy sweatpants, and a tank top, you felt yourself being pulled like he was a rip current you weren't strong enough to fight. 

And you wondered if he had known it, that you were a girl wrapped up twice instead of just once, that he'd have to work to peel back the layers, but it wouldn't be too hard. “Remind me on the day of the wedding not to drink this much,” he had hardly opened his mouth to mutter the words, his hands fists in his pockets as he watched the numbers tick down the keypad as you descended. 

“We both know we will have our hands full on the day of, I'll only be drinking for the toasts.” You're sure that as soon as the stress of the day hits, you won't even be able to remember to drink. 

“No, I mean after it's all done, when we’re sending people home with centerpieces and sweeping up the confetti. You'll share one celebratory drink with me, right? A final close to all this,” he waved his hand between the two of you, as if he could mix the tension up with one swirl of his finger. 

“Sure, one drink and I'll finally feel peace and won't have to fight with you over the color of name plates and Jordan almonds,” 

He had grinned, slow and boyish as he nodded, “I'll look forward to it,” and when the two of you flew home, he traded his seat to sit next to you, neither of you putting up a fight, not even a passive-aggressive one. 

For a week, the two of you had played as nicely as you could until it back back to one-upping and eye rolls. The wedding date should have made everything feel like it was falling into place; you had both worked to make it go as seamlessly as it possibly could go, and still, the second you had pulled up to the venue, dressed down in your pajamas, running around bossing people around, you felt the tension at its peak. 

Yeonjun had already been at the venue bright and early, earlier than Taehyun, who wouldn't be pulling in until two hours before the ceremony to get ready. And when you had walked in, yeonjun was already placing out plates on tables, helping order around the lights, and setting out glasses at the bar. You had been a mess of calling to make sure everything for the bride was taken care of, calling on the makeup team, the stylist for her hair, while carrying the dress in your arms because you were the only person you trusted to make sure that it would make it to the dressing room in one piece. 

The phone had been tucked between your ear and shoulder, your hands full, and yeonjun had pulled open the door, looking you up and down with a simple word, “cute,” as if looking frazzled was the cherry on top of it all. He had taken the weight from your hands, followed after you to set it up on the wall hook while you argued with the florist over the phone. 

“No, I needed you here before me, now I'm here and you're not-” you tried to keep your voice down, tried to steady yourself before it was all too much, all too soon, when yeonjun took the phone and took over the conversation. 

“Is this bridal blooms? Oh, okay, I was just making sure my review was put on the right page, and your name? Veronica? I just need to clarify exactly who I was working with. I know you guys work on commission and don't want to label the poor work- oh! You're on your way? Perfect, make sure you pull in around the back of the venue so we can keep the lot open,” in one threat, he had gotten the florist moving, and you were still panicking. 

Because now you were running around, the seating chart in hand, while you placed each nameplate on each plate and made sure no one crossed with the wrong side of the family. Yeonjun follows behind you, setting out forks and knives, the staff following behind him, placing down clean champagne flutes. 

And when the flowers arrived, through the front door instead of the back, and your best friend was panicking, looking for anything she could fix to take her mind off of her excitement, you were quick to calm her. Because the only way to do so was to confirm that you or yeonjun had set out to solve any problem. She had trusted you two above any other company that did wedding planning professionally, and neither of you had backed down from the challenge. 

So she went back upstairs to get her makeup done, left you to help yeonjun point fingers and fix bouquets. And hours had slipped by like seconds, Taehyuns car pulling in as a reminder that you needed to get ready. “Go, most of it is already done, it's just delegating, and I take less time to get ready, don't worry.” yeonjun had cupped the back of your arms lightly, nodding towards the dressing room where the faint music your best friend had picked out was playing. 

“But-” you didn't want to leave him, not when you were already so close to seeing the rest of it done. But you also knew he was the only one you trusted to see it through in exactly the way you would have. In no time, you would be back out to relieve him, and still, it made you hesitate. “You have the rings, right?” 

“For the sixth time, yes, go get ready, bully the photographer into taking more shots we asked for unlimited, make sure we get the best use out of that money,” and you had, doing exactly as he said because it had been the same thought on your mind. 

And it had all felt so close to the end, your tears starting the second you had helped your friend into her dress, the stress of the day worth it to see how truly happy she was, worry free because of the work you had put in. You almost couldn't believe it when you were finally dressed and waiting behind the glass double doors leading out into the ceremony hall. You and yeonjun were working simultaneously to make sure all the groomsmen and bridesmaids had every hair in place, every wrinkle smoothed out on their dresses and tuxes. 

The two of you would walk out together, arm in arm, at the same queue you had practiced at rehearsal. Only this time, your hand was shaking because suddenly the hard parts seemed over, and yet you had to walk down the aisle and not trip. 

Yeonjun grabbed your hand in his, leaning in until his lips brushed over your ear to mumble, “It's okay, I won't let you fall face first.” 

You had huffed out a laugh, pressing your elbow into the spot on his ribs you found so often, “shut up, we will miss our entrance,” but you hadn't, you had walked just fine, split at the alter and tried desperately to keep your tears from ruining your make up when you friend walled down the asle as beautiful as you knew she would be. 

But the tears could not be held back when you stood up to give your speech, the night coming to a close so much faster than you would have thought after months of planning, and long nights of staying up, bickering with the very man who held his hand out for you during last call and asked you to dance. 

Your best friend was already lovingly dancing with taehyun, their smile worth everything it had taken out of you. And for the first time since you had met him, you could look at yeonjun as someone who could be your friend, just as he had been theirs. 

“Good game,” yeonjun smiled when you placed your hands on his shoulders, his fingers laid nearly at your waist, no lower. His nod was that of a competitor who was happy to have found such a match. 

“So it was a game to you?” you arched your eyebrow, letting him lead you to the sway of the music. 

“Only the parts where I got to see you see all flustered,” he shrugged, the movement slipping your arms closer to his neck, you instinctively stepped closer to him, weakly clasping your hands right near the neatly cut hair at the back of his head. “It was fun,” 

“I did enjoy it, at least I can say that now,” because most of the guests were already saying goodbye, the tables were already being cleaned, the bar closed, and the music low. The remaining few of you would cheer as the happy couple left in the car you had rented for them to take back to their hotel suite close to the airport so they could take their midday flight out to their honeymoon vacation. 

“It was stressful, but I think I liked that.” You didn't even notice the way the two of you were leaning in closer and closer with each word shared. As if being pulled in by the lull of his voice was something you just couldn't resist. But as soon as your hips bumped into his, his hands slipped down just enough to make you pull back to the reality of the situation. 

You couldn't look away from his mouth, his same gold-touched lips that had made you clench your fist was softening the edges of the walls you had put up around yourself in terms of Choi Yeonjun. There was no need to dislike him, not anymore, not even in the first place. And he was following the same line of thought, eyelids heavy as he followed the slope of your nose down to your lips, catching the sight of the words leaving your mouth, “you liked being in control,” 

“So did you,” he whispered, so close to leaning into a kiss that you could feel his breath fan over your jaw. 

“We're leaving!” The happy screech of your best friend startled both of you, pulling you two apart until you were blinking back at her in confusion as if you didn't understand what she was saying to you. Not until she was pulling you into a bone crushing hug, swaying you side to side as she thanked you. “I don't think I'll do nearly as good as you did on my wedding for when I do yours,” 

“Oh, I don't think she'd let anyone else do the job besides herself,” yeonjun chuckled, your friend pulling him in for his own hug. 

“Yeah, you will have to bully her into letting you help. You guys make such a good team,” the comment made both of you smile, taehyun embracing you guys next, thanking you just the same. 

It made your heart happy to see them so joyous, and you could see it on yeonjuns face as well, even when they were gone and the dust had settled and the night was truly at an end. Nearly everyone had gone home, or to a hotel, glitter on the floor, and the lights dimmed as the chairs were hauled off. You stood there in the center of the dance floor, a lone bouquet in hand when yeonjun walked up. 

“A toast?” he held out the bottle of champagne he had snuck from the bar before they shut it down, “you promised me in Vegas.” 

“You only have the bottle.” It made you chuckle, the cork already popped and long lost amongst the several being swept up. 

“You know, I think I've done enough thinking for a whole year, because it completely slipped my mind to grab glasses,” he held out the bottle by its neck like a peace offering, and you took it, curling your fingers around his like holding his hand right before he let it go. 

Yeonjun watched you place the rim to your lips, sipping on the bubbles like they were starlight, the welcome drink loosening your shoulders as you passed it back. And like a kiss, he mimicked your movement, his lips over the spot yours had been, and you watched him just the same. And like in Vegas, you thought over the way he had made you feel. Wondered if this was the eye of the tornado or if you had never been a field at all but a tornado yourself, and now the storm had settled and you two just were. 

“Do you think you could help me with my dress? I had a whole crew to zip me up, I don't think I'll be able to get it back down on my own.” It was as if you had finally laid your cards on the table for him to see, and he didn't miss a beat.  

“I'd love to help,” 

You don't even remember the walk to the bridal suite. Not when the second you closed the door behind you, yeonjun was kissing you, devouring your resolve and taking control in a way the two of you had fought against for months. It was hard to pull away, and you're not sure you wanted to when he tasted like champagne bubbles and everything you had forced yourself into believing you didn't want. But you wanted him, devastatingly, chaos and all, until you were dizzy enough to not care. 

He let his hands slip down the curve of your ass while you twisted your fingers into his hair, messing up the neatness he had made sure to keep throughout the day, the night. You two were sloppy, a mess of teeth and need as he walked you back until your legs hit the back of the low couch that was set up in the room. 

You gasped into his mouth when he found your zipper, fingers leaving a trail down your spine as he let the fabric loosen around you, your hands sliding down until you could tug at his tie. Your dress pooled at your feet when he pulled away from you just enough to tug at his shirt, the buttons coming undone far too easily. “Do you know how annoying it was to want you so fucking bad, and all you did was scowl at me?” 

“Like you were any different,” you tossed back, fiddling with his belt, undoing the silver buckle until it was clinking at his side. “You did it on purpose,” the accusation was caught against his lips, his mouth back on yours to shut you up, to find the source of his addiction. 

He had craved you, and it made him angry enough to fuck with you all because he knew you meant business and would deny him, so he took it upon himself to jump the gun, deny himself of you well before you could reject him yourself. But it had backfired, had resulted in him spending far too much time thinking about you and how sweet you must taste when you have the anger kisses away from your upset lips. 

Now he was groaning at the flavor of your bite, the sound pressed to your lips in a wave of want that you couldn't deny any longer, not when he was unhooking your bra and pushing you down to the couch until he could pin you with his hips against the fabric. You gasped into his mouth, nails scratching at his shoulders as you widened your legs for him on instinct. 

Yeonjun rolled his hips, pressing the bulge in his pants right against the well-defined outline of your cunt in your panties. “You're a fucking menace. Do you feel how easy it is for my body to react to you? Huh?” you whimpered as he angled himself just right to brush your clit with his grinding, “every time you leaned into me just to press your elbow into my ribs i coudlnt help but think about how easy it would be to wrestle you down on my bed, how easy it would be to get you to apologize after i got your to cum on my fingers,” 

He leaned down until his mouth was at your throat, lips leaving wet open mouthed kisses all the way down to your collarbone, his teeth nipping at your skin like he was keeping himself from sinking into you. “Why didn't you?” your words hanging on the edge of a gasp, your back arching into him when he dragged his hand down your side, thumb dragging over the fragile skin of your breast. 

“Because it's so much better to tease you,” he muttered it right against your nipple, the sensation making you tremble before he finally took the sensitive bud between his teeth and drew a faint whimper from deep within you. He spends his time against your skin, kissing you between slow rolls of his hips that leave you weak enough to beg him for more. 

“Yeonjun- please,” you can't even tell what you want, only that it's him, all or nothing, because it would break you apart to lie down and take his slow torture. And it was almost as if he could tell he was fracturing you down the middle, because whatever it was that you felt, he felt it calling right back to you tenfold. 

He slipped his hand between your bodies, pushed his fingers into the waistband of your panties, and circled your clit as he groaned at just how wet he had already gotten you. “God say my name again-” he muttered against your throat, your fingers scratching down his back as he traced your folds like he was trying to memorize the map of your pleasure. 

You didn't need his plea to find yourself repeating his name like a mantra, not when he was pulling himself from his dress pants, the tip of him following the path his fingers had gone, straight from your clit down to the source of your wetness, and back up. It made you buck your hips up, searching for more, needing more. 

And when he finally pushes in, you're gasping on a silent moan, fingers curling into his hair, tugging the strands as he hums into your mouth, the echo of his need filling your chest as he presses in deep. He can't help himself from going in all the way, pressing his hips flush against yours until you're squirming from the pressure, lower back arched at just the right angle to feel him where you had never felt anyone before. 

It's almost too much when he starts to move, so slow you're whimpering, legs wrapping around his waist like that would pull him back in any closer to you. But like so many other times before, he had found the upper hand, found the way to control what you had fought so hard to grasp onto. His hand slid up your thigh, pushing your leg back towards the couch to spread you open just right so that he could sink impossibly deeper into. 

“Just fucking right, just for me,” his forehead pressed to yours, his eyes screwed shut as he rolled his hips incredibly slow into you like he was testing his ability to drive you insane one last time before he broke you. 

Yeonjun didn't want to rush, not when he finally had what he had wanted for so long, and he didn't; he took his time, his slow thrusts pulling out sounds you never heard yourself make before. Your hands are clenching at him, searching for something to rein in your emotions on. But you couldn't find it because no one had someone had such control over your body, drawing out your orgasm like he was coaxing a confession from your soul. 

Every drag of his heavy cock makes your nerves sing with a song in a language only he had been able to teach you. The tip of him hitting the sweetest spot every time he found himself stationary, it made your legs shake, tears welling up in your eyes because it was almost too much. 

Yeonjun was trying to hold himself back, his hips having a mind of their own, the building of his own orgasm right at the pit of his stomach, tightening until there was almost nothing left in him to do but completely fall apart, but he couldn't, not just yet, not until he felt you cumming right along with him. He slipped his hand down between you two, fingertips back to your clit as you whined out, “I can't-” your head shaking as you cried, the sensations all too much, as if falling into him would never leave you whole again. 

“You will,” he muttered, his nose bumping yours, his lips kissing away the salty tears left on your skin. He rolled his hips, pressing in and holding still until you were convulsing around him, shaking as you both came, the deep throaty moan that ripped through him pressed into your neck, hot and sinking into your skin as you felt every nerve ending in your body go numb before lighting back up just for him. 

He was twitching inside you, spilling so much of himself into you until you felt full, your body weak and trembling when he finally pulled out just so that he could push right back in, the warmth of him spilling out where you connected. You didn't want him to leave, didn't want to know what it felt like to not have his weight holding you down. 

And when he kissed you, the trail of them leading up your jaw to your lips, he muttered into your mouth, “Come home with me,” the door open enough for you to run if you wanted, if it was too much, but you want him, even past this moment, past this day. 

“Okay,” the word was a whisper of hope, threaded through with the last bit of yourself that had ever been fighting back against the feelings that you had for him. 

taglist 🏷: want to be added to the taglist? check out my rules to see how to join! want to be taken off the taglist? send an ask! @taegyutomorrow @izzyy-stuff , @felixleftchickennugget @filmsbyun @bts-txt-ateez @apeachty @dawngyu @heesmiles @hyukascampfire @bamgyuuuri @xylatox @lickingan0rchid @no1likemybbgcharlie @demidelulu @boba-beom @bloomri @tyunningism @candigyu @soobabby

[neonbluehazardsign]

 mermaid! au because i couldn’t get the idea out of my head 

you’re a marine biologist, working on the west coast (i’m biased to say Washington, but it could be Oregon or California), studying the rising levels of pollution. your observatory is right on the coast, so you’ll take hikes down to the beach and work there. one day, you notice an alarming amount of seagulls surrounding a little inlet in an area of the beach you’ve never gone to before. 

curious, you hike over there. noises that sound like a humans, but are…wrong, distorted somehow come from the inside of the cave. you’re a little scared, but you keep going. at the end of the cave, you find eddie. (he’s a copper shark btw) there’s a large gash on his side, and his breathing is labored and shallow because of how low the tide is. 

once you shake off your shock, the doctor side of you takes over. initially, he tries to bite you, but relents when he’s too weak + realizes you’re here to help. you stitch up the wound, holding his hand when he makes what you assume are pained noises. internally, you’re freaking out. you’d dreamed about mermaids since you were real, but you always knew that they were a myth. until now.

by the time you’re finished, the tide’s higher, and you can help eddie swim out back to the sea. he’s making noises the entire time, and when you see volt, you realize they’re mating calls. volt is…beautiful, to say the least. iridescent scales, with little bursts of rainbow flickering the longer you stare at him. (he’s an albino leopard shark. not sure if that exists but idc) him and eddie nuzzle together, and you look away because you feel like you’re witnessing a private moment. 

you’re surprised when volt comes up to you and lets you touch him, rubbing up against you as if in thanks. (nope. he’s horny + he likes reader and is trying to signal to them that he wants to be mates) when you realize that it’s getting dark, you start backing up out of the water. eddie and volt make sad sounding noises, and you tell them that you’ll be back as soon as possible. volt’s tail swishes back and forth as he watches you climb up the cliffs. he’ll make sure you come back, one way or another.

[unholyfudgebiscuits]

Summer Heat

College sophomore Stiles seeing a full, real life wolf locked inside a black SUV in 110 California heat. Obviously this is some weird ass exotic pet trafficking shit going down but he’s more afraid of the wolf having a heat stroke so he grabs his metal bat from his Jeep and smashes the drivers side window. 

Fully shifted Derek who was waiting patiently and quietly for Laura to come back to the car watching in awestruck horror as a skinny human hipster smashes through the windshield in one stroke. He’s so shocked he doesn’t even move when the doe-eyed, fae looking man slips a harness over his head. "It’s okay boy. It’s alright. Let’s get you somewhere cool." And Derek is about to protest. He’s not supposed to growl at humans but he bares his teeth and when he does he catches the man’s scent and his body locks up, his mind short circuiting except for one word. "Mate"

And holy shit he can’t bite his mate. He can’t hurt him. And Stiles has his hand petting along his ears and he knows he shouldn’t go but he can’t really stay either without his human getting in trouble. Besides he can probably escape from him and run back so no biggie right? He follows Stiles to the Jeep and jumps in. 

Except Stiles is insane as Derek soon learns. He’s convinced himself Laura is an exotic pet trafficker and he calls the police on his sister. And oh fuck. Derek can’t shift. He can’t risk letting a human know about werewolves but he wants to warn his sister. But Stiles convinces his dad to make some calls and then reassures Derek he’ll find him a good home since he’s obviously too domesticated to be returned to the wild but Stiles doesn’t trust animal control because of some bad stories from a vet tech named Scott? So Stiles elects to keep him in his one bedroom apartment until he can get in touch with a wolf sanctuary.

Cue comedy fueled shenanigans of all the Hales trying to get Derek back. 

Laura tries first. After tracking them down. She knocks on the door and tells Stiles she knows he has her dog. "It’s illegal to own a wolf in California." Stiles demands. 

"You kidnapped him. You busted my van. I should call the cops!" 

"Go ahead! Maybe they’ll connect you to my dad, Sheriff Stilinski. Beloved sheriff of 15 years. Let them know his son, who grew up at the station, who was babysat by every officer there has taken the wolf into custody until we can find a sanctuary. Let them know this majestic animal was left locked alone in 110 degree heat." Laura leaves, defeated. 

Peter tries next. He corners Stiles in the park, offering a large amount of money for the wolf. Stiles plays along until he has enough incriminating words to flash Peter his tape recorder. "You just randomly record every interaction you have?" 

"Only when I see creeper DILfs staring me down and stalking me for 2 days. My dad’s already working on the restraining order. Scram!" 

He sets up wind chimes and security alarms, afraid the Hales (who are looking more and more like some sort of exotic pet trafficking, mafia family) are going to try and kidnap Vader. (Name pending)

Derek is stressing. He tries waiting for Stiles to fall asleep so he can sneak out except this absolute freak never fucking sleeps! He has to be magic because he literally stays up 32 hours straight deep diving into the rich Hale family. He tries taking off once when Stiles was in the shower only for the wind chimes to go off when he cracked the window and the Star Wars Imperial March to blare throughout the apartment and Stiles flies into the room naked, covered in suds and screaming at the top of his lungs while wielding his bat. Derek is then pulled into the tiny bathroom with him every time after that. 

Isaac and Boyd try to intimidate Stiles to give Derek up but even the blatantly bad attempt at scaring the human has Derek’s protective instincts go haywire. He bites Boyd on the thigh and chases Isaac off before checking back on a grinning Stiles. Realizing too late that was his chance to escape. 

Erica tries to flirt with Stiles but the dudes already suspicious and after a hour of him trying to shrug off her advances he screams at her across the parking lot "I’m only into dick! Leave me alone!" 

Cora tries to break in and nearly has a heart attack when motion sensor lights light up the building like the Fourth of July. 

Talia finally, finally has enough. After a month she goes to the apartment. Stiles opens the door and when Derek whines pathetically at her from behind Stiles’ leg she sighs. "Show him Derek." And Stiles is like "look lady-" until Derek shifts back into a human and Stiles is standing there wide-eyed and silent for the first time since Derek has known him. "I’m sorry for the misunderstanding. Obviously you’ll have some questions but my son is a shapeshifter and he didn’t want to alarm you. We’ve been trying to discreetly retrieve him but he has quite the body guard as a mate." 

Stiles brain slowly starts firing all cylinders before he turns to the alpha. "I meant what I said." Stiles finally tells her.

"Oh?" 

"As I made it clear to your daughter, he’s mine now." 

Derek grins. 

Yes I’m working on the full fic. Yes I’ll post it up when it’s on aO3. Why shouldn’t I start up another one!? Dang it, I didn’t want to start another one until I finished my last one but come on!!!

[l0s3rd0wnt0wn]

would you consider writing a sakura haruno! reader 🤨❔(mostly because a wanna see readers version of sakuras inner self considering younger sakura was so much more hotheaded and strong willed in her head than she actually presents herself to be plus i always found sakuras inner self relatable since i would usually try to ignore or stay calm when people are being rude especially cause of my interest but im causing havoc in my head )

BACK IN THE DAYS USED TO DEFEND SAKURA WITH MY HEART AND SOUL

Bio: Sakura!Reader, the rest of the batfamily think your just to sweet wait still they hear what's inside there little sisters head

"Sorry, [Name], you can't go on this mission. I'm afraid it's too dangerous." Dick says, trying to face you from the Batcomputer. Isn't that sweet? She thinks you're some type of weakling. You can't take on the villain of the week. "Cha! Who does that circus freak think he is, drenching me when Damian gets to run around with swords all night?" you wanted to scream. "It's all right, big bro. I'll just be a liability, you know, ha! Sometimes my strength can get the better of me. I'll make sure to get out of your way!" you said in a sweet, soft tone, a smile on your face as you cocked your head to the side. Dick was none the wiser; he thought that was just a cute little quirk you picked up from your time training with Lady Tsunade. Little does he know that you're actually pissed off, and you're this close to smashing his face into the pavement. But you can't do that. You can't. The overwhelming feeling to strangle him was creeping up on you. It's been like that ever since you were little; your passionate emotional control—maybe these were traits a young woman could not have and should not have. So instead of embracing them, you let them go and hide them as much as you could. You wanted to connect; your adopted family made you needy. You shouldn't show your anger when Jason calls you weak and dramatic. These emotions are not for a young lady—not at all. So you hide them discreetly and as best as you possibly can. They won't see your rage, they won't see your passion, and they won't see your fear, but they will feel it under the pressure of your fingertips.

"[Name], come watch this show with me! It's called Bridgerton, and I think you would like it a lot," Jason asked, pulling at your arm. Is he serious? The man's been making fun of you for watching that show, but now he wants to watch it with you. "Cha! Who does this bastard think he is, first neglecting me, making fun of the things I like, then liking them? I should beat him to a pulp for that!" You're this close to grabbing his arm, flipping him over, and smashing him into the hard wooden floor. But instead, "Oh really? I thought you didn't like that show?" you asked with a soft giggle, acting like your blood pressure isn't skyrocketing. "Well, I gave it a try, and I want to watch it with you now!" Like there aren't six other people in this house he could have watched it with. "Cha! Go ask Penis or something, ya loser!" you wanted to say so badly. You cocked your head to the side. "Huh? Why can't you ask Dick?" putting on a winning smile. "I don't want to watch it with Dick. I want to watch it with you," he replied gruffly. "Cha! I'd rather die!" the inner you scoffs. Meanwhile, the outer you responds, "Yes!" like a happy chirping bird. "'Ukht! Come and paint with me!" Damian orders, the brat he is, pulling on your hoodie. "Cha! Who does this brat think he is? After all the times he was rude to me, I think not!" But instead, you back down to be at his eye level. "Sorry, Damian, I have to study," the lamest excuse to ever exist, but your little brother insists sadly. "Don't care! I wanna paint!" God, why does he sound like such a baby? "Cha! Didn't I just tell you I was busy? Run along, ya little brat!" If only you could punt him like a soccer ball. "Alright, alright, we'll paint," you said, finally caving even though you'd rather do anything else than spend time with that little demon. After he called you "flat-chested," he's now worse than the Joker. "I know you can't draw to save your life, so I'll be helping you out, okay?" he said in a little snotty voice. "Cha! I bet I could paint better than you!" No, you can't, but with your ambition, you'll try.

"[Name], can we talk?" Bruce asked, holding out a gentle hand to you, even though it was calloused with small cuts. "Cha, I’d rather die than spend a second with you. Old, I bet you feel guilty; that's why you're doing this." You felt your blood vessel might burst if another person asked you to spend time with them. You swore they probably have a schedule for when they can hang out with you; they are seriously trying to make up for lost time, even though you could care less. "Oh, I don't know..." But the second his eyes darkened, that’s when you had to drop whatever excuse you had and actually talk to him, apologizing about how he left you alone, that other stuff. But you could feel deep down that his apologies were half-baked and ready to melt. "Cha, yeah right. I’ve heard better apologies from YouTubers." You sucked your teeth just to put on a soft smile for him and say that you forgave him. Deep down, you would never forgive this man, father or not, and the same goes for the rest of the Bats.

Cassandra was trying to tell you that your dance was all wrong, like you could just crack her head into that training mat. Yeah, right. Stephanie was trying to bond with you by getting your nails painted; if you can recall, last time she called those things "girly." "Cha, get a load of her." Tim was trying to correct you over the littlest things, helping you even when you didn’t need it. "Cha, get off my back, nepo baby." Dick was trying to be the big brother, even though he was off in Blühaven doing whatever, like always. "Cha, drop the act; we both know you just feel guilty." Duke was trying to bond with you over the simplest things, like you grew up under a rock or something. "Cha, of course I know what TikTok is, you Duke Dennis wannabe." Barbara was watching you and your every move. "Cha, she's trying to be sneaky, but I saw that camera in my room. I'm going to destroy that thing in front of her face." But in reality, you just threw it out in the garbage. How dare they try to get close to you? You're not their little soccer plant that can just be neglected and then have them come back when it’s all withered away. You'll grow and thrive on your own; you'll water your own roots with your tears if that's what it takes.

[0celesteisthebest0]

Oh reader I love her and relate to her toooo muchhhh because I would not stop thinking about that beautiful man and calling him is a very gutsy decision lol that still leavess with anxiety for poor reader.

ooof the cold feeling of reality for reader with her friend showing her perspective on the matter really is a let down ad saying that he is the only man you've been with so how do you know he's honest stings a little. Obviously her friend is looking out for her but he interaction still stings.

NOOOOO and then he answers and it definitely is something but that conversation kinda ruined her confidence of the situation AND HE WAS WAITING FOR HER TO CALL GODDD!!!

:( he felt the connection too especially the fact that he took his helmet off for you! DIN AND HIS LONELINESS KILLS ME TOO cause that moment felt like something to both of you and him not getting a call doesn't mean that they weren't anything it's just complicated on both ends.

OH NOOO and the party where they see each other again! Din there working as well as you. ALL HE WANTS IS THE INTIMACY OF YOU :(

BOTH OF THEM HAVE MISCONSTRUED IDEAS IN THEIR HEAD ABOUT WHAT THE OTHER PERSON THINKS OF THEM AND IT IS KILLING ME!!

FUCK THAT GUY! Doesn't he take the hint that reader is not interested like omfg, I am sorry but I love DIN SO MUCH like yeah fucking freak him out by putting your hand on your blaster! THREATEN THAT MANN SCARE THE CRAP OUT OF HIM!!!!!

Finally they are left alone together :)

YESSS I LOVE YOU DIN AND YOUR BLUNTNESS!! And Din not understanding why it matters to you how he met her boss when it was just a job to him. Not what he feels towards you.

AAAAAAAAAA Din saying that he left it there because he wanted to talk to you and the look on readers face being utter surprise!

Them having a private place to talk was definitely needed, especially where they can explain to each other what was going on in their heads. AFTER TALKING IT OUT TOO HIM LIFTIng HIS HELMET TO KISS YOU SHOWING MORE PARTS OF HIMSELF!!!!

Taking in every detail of Din is such a precious part of this moment to me cause they really are seeing each other in different lights. OH AND HIM GETTING TURNED ON WHILE EATIN YOU OUT YESSSSSS DINNN

Also the fact that Din asks if you miss him while inside you is crazy but also shows how insecure he is about the fact you didn't call. He wanted that connection with you and thankfully he is gettting that in this moment. HE WANTS YOU AND HOW YOU WANT HIM IN MORE THAN A SEXUAL WAY!

THE END MAKES ME GRIN THEY GET TO SEE EACH OTHER TONIGHT YAYY

Mutual, Part II

Pairing: Sexworker!Din Djarin x Female!Reader Word Count: 10.2k Rating: Explicit, 18+ Warnings: misunderstandings/bad communication, a bit of angst, one gross jerk, Din being protective, cursing, oral (f-receiving), unprotected p-in-v, semi-public sex

YOU

You tell yourself you’ll wait two days—That’s a normal amount of time to wait before contacting someone, right?—and during those two interminably long days, you think about him nonstop.

About bringing him home and pulling him into your bed. About easing his gloves off and holding his hand. About sinking to your knees in front of him. About taking him apart piece by piece again, just to fall asleep on his warm, broad chest.

Keep reading

[smallvillesweetie]

NSFW - clark kent • afab reader - other than that unspecific reader

now there aren’t enough people divulging into how alien clark is and i need to change that…

adult content littered into these thoughts this is also afab! reader but other than that unspecific

okay (another) disclaimer

clark is a subhuman, kryptonians are descended from humans, but if i remember correctly it was very common to genetically engineer your children on krypton so technically kryptonians are just a more developed human species - however clark or shall we say kal el was carried to term organically but that doesn’t hinder his alien anatomy

some of these thoughts are pulled directly from canon but most of them are being pulled from my very horny brain :)

firstly it is canon that clark’s glasses are hypno-glasses and that ‘he had crafted the lens of his glasses using Kryptonian plexiglass from the rocket that brought him to Earth’ which is why they are so thick - i think that they would look like more like bottle glasses than anything

it is widely accepted that clark and superman would have a uncanny valley feel about them - i mean he is an alien so if you were gonna get that feeling off of anyone it would be from the friendly extraterrestrial hero

but not only would you get a vibe i think once you were quite close with clark and the glasses that prohibited you from really SEEING anything…off…about him i think that there would be a few things that you would begin to notice like how clark’s eyes may dilate more than a normal humans would when he would look at you or talk about his interests, often looking almost completely black, like a wet seal or a puppy :( or that they would flicker almost like nystagmus, but voluntarily - constantly looking… watching… analysing, taking in every. single. detail… i can imagine the eye contact during sex would be the most captivating thing ever, forehead to forehead just completely lost in his beautiful eyes

i also think that clark would have a greater lung capacity so he wouldn’t need to breathe as much as he gets most of his energy from the sun so i think he would be a very intense kissing partner, sometimes even stealing your breath from you leaving you heaving (god if u were asthmatic you would need to have your inhaler CLOSE BY)

i think clark would do it completely unconsciously and would feel bad about it, i can see him just getting soooo lost in your kisses and the way you taste :( hes just a big alien boy doing his best

there is a plus to him having such a great lung capacity and that is that he would be a pussy eating machine - his lung capacity paired with his super stamina means that he could eat you for hours completely uninterrupted… the overstimulation would be so delicious

speaking of being delicious i think that clark would have the most beautiful cock, like ever just point blank

i can see both arguments to if clark is uncut or not, on one hand clark is kryptonian and they were fond of genetic editing so maybe they got rid of foreskin completely lmao for ‘hygienic’ reasons but on the other hand maybe they just didn’t care i’m undecided but i do know that when clark came to earth if he came uncut there was nothing that was gonna circumcise him

i think i am an uncut clark truther, i am also really into the idea of pincers on his cock (which is technically canon - i know some of you freaks have seen the comic clip going around twitter and here ;) i love the idea of like ridges or bumps on his cock too solely for pleasure - we know that kryptonians didn’t have children naturally so perhaps sex was just a solely pleasurable act

i also love the idea of clark having hyperspermia (nerd speak for bucket loads of cum coming from his balls) i won’t try and put a canonical spin on this one people this is purely a self service because i am a cum freak i think it is the hottest thing…those creampies would go crazy…

this post was wayyyy longer than expected if anyone wants me to expand on any of these thoughts i will find the power to do so

[firingstars]

happy 1k! for your celebration headcanon- in "preciously mine" how hard did bucky try to injure himself so he could visit reader in the med lab?

thank you sweet one <3 and BROOOO you best BELIEVE bucky was a fucking IDIOT when it came to this LMFAOOO read preciously mine here!! yari's 1k celebration: requests are open!

Bucky tried so hard to get injured… like it was actually kinda sad. 

It’s instilled in his bones for him to fight, right? When Bucky realized that he couldn’t just let himself get injured in training, he started doubling tf down and started fighting even harder– everyone thought he was fucking MADDD LMFAOOO

Sam literally sent Steve to go talk to Bucky at one point…

“Buck… Is something going on…?” 

Bucky’s confused as hell, chest heaving and panting because training is over, but he’s also happy because Steve finally managed to hit him hard enough for a fucking bruise to form on his back. 

“Fuck are you talking about?” Bucky grunts.

“We’re just– I’m just getting worried,” Steve said, shaking his head. “You’re pushing yourself a little too hard. You need to get some rest, y’know? Have you tried visiting the doc recently? Maybe she can help you sleep?”

“Why the fuck would I do that?” he asks. 

“I know you don’t want to bother her, but–”

“Just drop it, Steve.”

Bucky pockets the “sleep” idea for a later time– a rainy day idea, if you will. It will be his last resort idea if everything else fails. 

When getting injured proved to be difficult, he tried the headache method, and he felt horrible for making you stress out like that. - He secretly liked that you were fussing over him - Also when you had your hands all over him for that examination?? He was trying his best to focus. Man had a crush on you from afar this entire time. It was one thing for you to have been doing an examination on him when he was actually injured but to be touching him when he was perfectly healthy was doing things to his brain - Bucky was freaking out in his head... He was not okay. - also when you said you noticed that he compensates for his weight??? he fell in love with you all over again.

The knee scrape? He slammed his knee the side of the building - where there weren’t any cameras - also wasn’t through clothing like you thought - had to repeat several times bc it kept healing before he could come to your lab - #worth bc you ended up on your knees and you said his name for the first time

The papercut???? Completely unintentional. The second Bucky felt the paper slice through his skin?? Oh yeah it was game over. 

Bucky was rushing to the med lab like his entire finger was sliced off even though the wound had already been pieced together seconds ago and he literally almost bulldozed over Sam in the process.

“Dude?? What the fuck–”

“Get the fuck out of my way”

Bucky had one mission and it was literally to make you kiss his boo-boo that was literally not even there anymore.

Honestly even after the events of the fic and mission Bucky still comes to the med lab with obscure “injuries” and reader still indulges. 

“Sweetheart my chest is really hurting,” he complains.

You obviously take it seriously and get your stethoscope out to listen to his heartbeat, only to find that his heartbeat sounds completely fine.

“Can you tell me more?” you ask, frowning at him.

“Yeah,” he sighs. “My girl just– you really just made my heart stop with how good you look today–”

You kick him out of your infirmary, but give him a kiss in the hall.

[moonietuney]

katsuki as your husband — h.c

note: thank you guys sm for the support and requests! i’m getting to them as quickly as i can! ♥

husband!katsuki who scolds you for waiting up for him when he works late patrols.

you’re laying on the couch, dozing off because it was nearing 2 AM. the sound of the door clicks open and you jolt up, squinting at the doorway as you see him walk in.

he doesnt expect you to be awake, but when he sees you waddling towards him he frowns. “you should be asleep.” he’ll say in his usually tired voice. “i told you stop waitin’ up for me.” he pokes your forehead and gives you another one of his speeches of how much of a worry wart you are and how he wishes you’d just go the fuck to sleep so he wouldn’t have to deal with your cranky ass in the morning.

husband!katsuki who (as cliche as it is) takes pride in making you breakfast.

every other day he gets the motivation to make you a well rounded, nutritious breakfast. bonus points if he’s shirtless. he’s always in the kitchen, always whipping up some grand meal that’ll make your mouth water.

he toses the plate on the table when you’ve settled yourself and nods upwards. “you better like it.” he tells you before kissing your head.

“mm..can i have you instead?” you smirk and reach out to touch his toned abs he worked so hard for. he moves before you get the chance and just scoffs, although he’ll deny he likes the flattery.

“eat your food, you idiot.”

husband katsuki who often prefers to be the little spoon when cuddling you instead of the big spoon.

you’ve teased him about it before and he almost blew your face off. “oh shut up! m’just comfortable this way.” katsuki will gruffly state. he claims its a better position because his arms have more room to sprawl out. but you know that’s not the only reason.

he likes being held.

husband!katsuki who brings you to hero gala events for the sole purpose of showing you off.

he gets all giddy and lowkey excited when you agree to go to an event with him. he’s even helping you pick out an outfit, but is awfully strict when you say something looks bad on you. he leaves no room for your self-depreciating comments.

at the events, he lets his hands roam over your waist and hips. his grip isn’t tight, but it’s firm enough to let other’s know you’re definitely taken by the No. 5 pro hero. will give midoriya looks whenever he looks your way.

husband!katsuki who gets freaked out at your outbursts of emotions when you’re pregnant.

you’re almost worse than him, and he has to take a step back and try not to yell back at you.

“it’s missing the nuggets! go back and get them!” you yell, tears streaming down your face with the fast food back in your hands.

he growls under his breath. “you shouldn’t even be eating that, it’s not good for the baby!” he retorts.

“go get me my fucking food. now.” oh he’s trembling. when your voice drops an octave lower, he turns right around and fetches the keys. on his way back to the fast food place, he calls his parents. he’ll ask his mom for advice and his dad how he managed to make it through this stage alive.

husband!katsuki who send pictures to his friends when the baby’s born and from then on.

he’s always taking pics of the baby, always getting them to do stupid poses or doing 0.5 zoomed out pictures of their foreheads.

“hahaaa. this kid’s got a massive forehead,” katsuki will tease and you’ll frown.

“yeah wonder who it came from..”

“WHAT.” he slowly turns to you and lowers his phone in his lap. you’ve always teased him about his forehead and he’s always yelled a “ITS NOT THAT BIG.”

wanted to do katsuki fluff bc i got smth brewing.

₊ ⊹ ₊ ⊹ 𓂃 ₊ ⊹ ₊ ⊹ 𓂃 ₊ ⊹ ₊ ⊹ 𓂃

more mha || masterlist ↖

all rights reserved to yours truly @moonietuney please do not translate, copy, or steal my work or there will be hell to pay.

[dottysdokis]

it's time for me to finally reblog this legendary post that has so many good tag additions and threads that i literally got overwhelmed and put off reblogging it for a month because i love it TOO MUCH. tag hall of fame (bolding/emphasis mine):

[@equilateralromance : #he has a traditionally feminine role in the narrative imo. who is usually chased fought for & objectified? the female lead #especially in period scifi or noir media which gf has a lot of inspiration from #ford's such a 'superheroine' archetype in some ways]

[@strawberry-smog: #crying screaming throwing up over fordsy :( #because #you encapsulates it so beautifully #(just copy pasting from an older conversation here lol) #there is a lot to be said about how up until the post-finale timeline #Ford considers his entire existence to be making up for something #Post-Bill this has shifted mainly to the mistake he made in trusting Bill in the first place #but prior to that the thing he was trying to make up for was basically just... having been born "different"#and having parents who weren't very supportive? #He spends so much time clinging to and chasing after being smart being athletic being better than everyone else #because the alternative to those things isn't just not succeeding #its that everyone who was ever mean to him was right and he is crazy ugly a freak etc #and they all saw it and were right to hate him #so instead he has to believe if he just tries hard enough everyone will realize they weren't forward thinking enough and actually he is a h #There's no room for himself just existing as a person because hes never felt like he has inherent worth #reblog #GF #Ford]

[@jheselbraum: #Stanford Pines #This is why the end of tbob and the Ford journal entries of tinawdotcom are so important to me #Mabel fucking recognizing Ford's grief and not questioning why he's grieving someone who was so awful to him is everything to me #Also dippers mini arc of humanizing The Author into My Uncle #From ddmd through weirdmageddon #Stan's acceptance of how Ford interacts with and shows affection to the people he cares about #Like the ending of tbob notably lacks any of the pines questioning why Ford hid the book #They get why he did it what they're doing by laughing at Bill is telling Ford they're going to care about HIM no matter what #And they don't PRY EITHER like I'm assuming Bill blathered on about Ford like he did in the 'version' we were presented with so to speak #They don't ask questions they let Ford keep his secrets #They just also let him know he doesn't HAVE to keep them if he wants to keep his family #Ford is going through a deobjectification arc post finale and I love it #Or I should say #Everyone else is going through a deobjectify Ford arc #Also look I'm a fiddauthor truther but I'm so glad that Fiddleford wasn't in the picture of his family at the end #At least as written #Like the end of J3 where they sit and talk is adorable #But I need at least one on screen honest conversation about capital E Everything before Fiddleford is #Allowed to be considered part of ford's happiness #But then when I talk about it people go 'wait when did they objectify Ford in the first place' #My guy he was literally represented by an object for the first season and a half of this two season show #What do you MEAN 'what objectification']

[@bulkhummus: #something something the legend has overshadowed the man #ford has become the catalyst or event in his own story against his will lol #idk something about a scientist who wants his contributions to be the defining aspects of his life without realizing his footnotes are - #- what people are reading most reverently #this makes me think about how everyones perspective is their own reality #and the one person who has the ability to cross dimensions is ford #and the feeling that the first time ford truly felt free is when there was no back drop for him to be defined by #being a twin and sharing a life and being defined by the other in similarity or opposition is literally burned into his genetics #'wanting control over his past so he journals' is not far off from becoming a conman and manipulating peoples idea of you #and mistaking the encouragement of bill to enter and to explore as benevolent and supportive when bill too was 'chasing' ford #I also just love the theme of bill driving a wedge btw brothers or at least exploiting what was already there #and him not understanding that that won't work with dipper and Mabel]

[@5p4ced-0ut : #ARGH #me reading this #Nothing but peak #absolute literature #no but fr I go crazy about allll of this #Any and EVERY time Stanford Pines reaches to accomplish his goals or tries to carve out a place for himself and himself alone #he is punished by the narrative and the characters that surround him #no matter WHAT he does it always ends up hurting himself or someone he cares about #It's no wonder he decides to go sailing with Stan even if it isn't really *his* dream #anytime Ford has sought to achieve his dreams it ended in disaster #so maybe it's for the best that he doesn't get what he longs for #maybe it IS better to have others make the choice for him #seeing as making his own decisions only leaves him with pain and suffering #ouah #Stanford Pines the man vou are]

[@thepinkminx6457: #ford pines #stanford pines #ford is only ever a concept to others #he is never truly himself #he lives a life of objectification and abuse #and he is actively punished for pursuing his own wants#😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭#yes yes yes yes #this is such an eloquent way of putting all the things i feel into one post good grief thank you op]

[@raccoonhusband : #this popped up back on my dash and i gotta add something i never got to add to my original reblog/commentary bc it was a separate point: #this is why ford is the daisy buchanan in the great gatsby parallels the BoB's got going on #both objectified and considered tools and trophies by the people around them #both prone to lashing out in selfish, careless, but ultimately understandable (but not always justifiable) ways #that ends up making them polarizing figures to the audience #reblog #stanford pines #character analysis]

ford's lifetime of objectification is so important to me.

when you first watch the show, you don't really see it in tots. just taking the show in isolation, stan's experience is much easier to latch on to: stan is being neglected by his parents and the education system, and he compensates for it by becoming useful to (and therefore needed by) ford. the codependency and abuse are the themes that stand out.

which makes sense, since we've been following stan so long by this point we're bought into his character arc. alex has even said that ford was built to be someone who would explain stan's trauma response. we are meant to be looking at stan for these reasons and because ford lies to us (by omission) during his story. yes stan lies too, but only in the narration; we are shown the truth. ford's story is a lie both in narration and in visuals.

but as the show goes on and as the books come out, we are directed to start looking more and more at ford's experience.

when you read journal 3 standard edition, what stands out is bill's manipulation and how ford fails to grasp the lifelines fate throws him. we see ford transform from a man wanting recognition and connection to being isolated and unable to trust.

but then you read journal 3 blacklight edition, you realize it wasn't just bill: fiddleford was hurting him too. when fiddleford first presents the memory gun to ford, ford tells him that it's dangerous with a high risk for misuse, and to destroy it. not only does fiddleford lie about agreeing with ford and lie about destroying it, he also turns around and starts routinely, non-consensually using it on ford. whenever fiddleford wants to do something he knows ford will disagree with or be upset by? zap zap! conflict averted, no compromising or debating necessary. (and then, of course, he starts stalking ford to ensure nothing happens to him that fiddleford deems deleteable.)

and then we get tbob and watch bill hijack and mutilate his body, rewire his brain, and threaten his life. his value reduced down to a pair of eyeballs bill is more than happy to pluck out to use as keys if ford won't deactivate the retinal lock.

with this new insight, it makes ford's experience in tots significantly easier to see. filbrick didn't care about what happened to ford, he cared about what he lost. yes stan probably did care about what happened to ford, but not enough to tell him about the accident with time enough to fix it. not enough to let him be angry, let him grieve, let him figure out alternative college solutions. it was just right back to what stan wanted: sailing away together. for the entire scene, ford's opinion weren't asked for, his emotions not given a platform, until they were useful for what stan wanted: not having him kicked out. ford's experience of the event was so unimportant, he'd gone to his bedroom while filbrick and stan fought. he was no longer needed.

neither bill, nor fiddleford, nor filbrick, nor stanley see ford as a fully realized human being with wants and goals and dreams and aspirations of his own. at least, they see him as a fully realized human being only up until what he wants conflicts with what they want. after j3 blacklight it starts to become obvious that ford is a tool, a concept, to the people ford thinks are his closest allies.

to bill, ford is an escape (with just the show and j3 we think only into our world, but after tbob we learn that this is both literal and metaphorical). to fiddleford, ford is freedom (from his marriage, from societal expectations, from the pressure of being more than his roots). to filbrick, ford was stability (i refuse to believe it was just about the money, but more about what the money represented. filbrick and caryn wouldn't have to worry about making ends meet, wouldn't have to worry about their children's future; all reasonable desires for parents to have but inappropriate responsibilities to place on a teenager. not to mention how the lasting impact of the holocaust combined with the rise of holocaust denialism in the 1970s would influence filbrick's perspectives). to stan, ford was everything (he was willing to throw away his life on shore, both what he had and what he might have, to sail with ford, just the two of them, forever. and he did throw away his life bringing ford home: he murdered stanley pines and sacrificed 30 years in exchange for his brother. stan believes he is only one half of a dynamic duo, that without ford there is no him).

in a way, ford was a portal for all of them. something they could use to get a better, happier, fuller life. ford is fought for, someone hard decisions are made for, someone people do terrible things for. but not for him, but for the opportunity to keep him, to control him. hell, even his doctor said they want to kidnap him.

because keeping stanford pines is extremely difficult. he's hard to get close to, but once you're close he loves fully, trusts implicitly. but if he's wronged, he's vindictive, he holds a grudge, he pushes you away and he runs.

princess unattainabelle indeed.

doesn't it make sense, then, after all of this, ford would grow into someone who insists upon his own agency? that he was forced to become self-confident, self-assured, a man of action. that he would become an avid journaler so that his wants and goals and dreams and aspirations would become concrete, would become tangible. that he would become someone who lies about his past in order to have control over how he is perceived, how his life is remembered?

because after what fiddleford and bill did to him, wouldn't it make sense he would become someone anxious about his reality, his memories, his sense of self? how much of who he thinks he is and what he believes and what he knows and what he can do is because of changes they made to his mind?

does he even have himself?

for the entire duration of gravity falls, every character, at some point, to some degree, is chasing ford: his journals, his inventions, his knowledge, his identity, what he is able to give them, do for them.

but how many of them are chasing ford.

edit: just want to add this disclaimer for clarity. i intentionally left out other characters' nuance. if this reads uncharitable, that's not an accident and also i know there's a more nuanced perspective. that was just not the point of this.

[authorhjk1]

Gloryhole scenarios for funsies. Pick the idols that fit it better:

1) Loves the taste of precum, so she edges the cocks non stop until they unexpectedly cover her face;

2) Forget about blowjob and handjob, she loves doing a facejob rubbing her face on the cock, feeling the warmth and impregnating her face with the smell long after leaving the gloryhole;

3) Doesn't even try to suck, she goes straight through and fucks herself on the cocks, getting creampie after creampie thinking if she should take a plan b or not and get knocked up;

4) Takes her least experienced member to learn and enjoy the wonders of a gloryhole, holding her head, dictating the pace and instructing her on what to do. She doesn't blow no one but she happily shares the load kissing her member;

5) Two sex freak friends (doesn't need to be from the same group) go to a booth with a hole on each side and compete to see who can dry the most cocks (who did it? And how many each of them manage to dry?)

6) Two friends (different from the previous answer) also compete, this time for who can look the best with the most amount of cum on their faces (who looks the best?);

7) Takes her boyfriend and blows guys while he fucks her pussy. But there's a catch, she saves the loads to use as lube for the anal sex which will be the the cherry on top of that night;

8) [Two separately names for this one] As soon as she enters the booth she gets naked and go wild, after getting every load she just rubs the cum all over her body, from her hair to her soles. After pretty much getting kick off, because the place need to close, she goes home with the strongest smell of cum ever, gets naked and goes without showering to her bed with fresh sheets and starts to masturbate basking on the smell of cum and her sweat, sometimes taking dry flakes of cum off her skin and eating. After getting done she goes to sleep intending to continue the fun later trying to go the longest without showering to keep the dirty and nasty smell;

1)

(Blackpink's Rosé)

2)

(Red Velvet's Seulgi)

3)

(Blackpink's Jennie)

4)

(Ive's Yujin)

5)

(Twice's Sana)

(G-idle's Miyeon)

Sana wins with 20 vs. 12.

6)

(Twice's Tzuyu)

(TripleS's Xinyu)

They decide to call it a draw and then clean each other's faces with their tongues.

7)

(Red Velvet's Joy)

8)

(Ive's Wonyoung)

[higuysetc]

Exactly, in this hypothetical, catch me outside the Netflix HQ, pitchfork in hand, kicking and screaming HE’S LYING HE’S LYING when the Duffers announce that Mike’s ending had been planned since the beginning and throwing rocks with strongly-worded handwritten notes attached, signed from someone with media literacy, through the windows.

Hypothetically.

But Byler is endgame so it’s not that deep.

For real though a Mileven endgame would make for one of the biggest queerbaiting scandals. If the Duffers didn’t want a good fifth of their dedicated fanbase after them then maybe they shouldn’t have made Mike perform the Homotron 7000 dance of Season 4 or 3 or 2 or even 1 I mean this man has been queercoded since the beginning.

If Byler isn’t endgame I will be pissed. If Mileven is endgame I will be fucking fuming.

This isn’t even about shipping anymore- it’s about doing your characters justice and upholding the foundational message of your show.

“For the marginalised, for freaks and outcasts” my ass if you have the potential to give your target audience the most well-written portrayal of internalised homophobia in media history and instead decide to throw all that away in favour of a comphet relationship that stunts the growth of both of the characters involved.

Mileven could have been beautiful, alas its endgame would fuck over the boyfriend, the girlfriend, and the gay brother/best friend. These guys are like our main characters. They’re our day ones. El and Will especially.

So yeah, if Byler isn’t endgame, I will riot. I didn’t spend all this time kicking my feet with glee because my community was going to get some accurate representation in the form of a main character with depth that I saw myself for nothing.

A Byler endgame will change lgbt writing in film and TV forever and make way for lgbt representation on screen without the obligation of casting aside, killing off or giving the queer character a side character as a love interest.

Representation in mainstream media, it sounds like a dream. This show was never intended for a mainstream audience, alas it’s one of Netflix’s biggest projects. This dream better come to fruition, an opportunity like this should not be taken lightly. Especially for a show centered around uplifting the outcasts of the world.

The DELUSION of milevens that in the impossible case in which byler wasn't canon endgame think that bylers will all delete their blogs and disappear from the internet is so fucking funny to me, you have no idea of what a fandom is 😭 and I'll tell you more, if byler doesn't happen I will switch to gay mike wheeler and talk about it constantly on pure spite ✌️

[revelboo]

Hello Revel~ hope you are doing well. May I ask how well Vortex/ the Combaticons as Sires? Is/are the sparkling/s a much greater menace to society?

Vortex’s spawn is pretty much feral like he is

Domestic…?

Vortex x Reader

• Startling awake at your infant son’s aggressive chuffing warbling, you turn your head and spot Vortex moving about the habsuite. And you tense when Onslaught braces a hand on the wall behind the berth and leans down to stare at you and your sparkling. Your son wobbling as his head lifts, tiny denta bared in a shaky hiss, getting upset at the other mech getting too close. ‘Frag, why’s it that small?’ The big mech growls as he reaches out a hand like he’s going to grab you both and you smack his servo without thinking. And the Decepticon just stares at you, as if just now seeing you. ‘Your squishy just slapped me. You can’t teach it some manners?’

• “More fun when they’re half feral, those teeth trying to tear into my mesh feel amazing,” Vortex says, keeping an optic on you as his rotors flick. Pretending to be relaxed even as he’s ready to gut his fellow Combaticon if you or his sparklings are threatened. No one’s allowed to upset you but him. ‘Freak,’ Onslaught snarls, tossing back his engex, but not moving away from you or his young and it’s starting to rub him the wrong way. No longer funny. Sees you gathering his son to you as the sparkling keeps hissing warnings to not touch you. ‘Can’t believe you frag that thing. Let alone sparked one ugly aft sparkling on it,’ Onslaught laughs.

• Turning your son’s face to you as his servos fist in your loose shirt, you can almost feel the change in the air. The way Vortex’s stance goes loose and predatory as his head tips. And you twist your back to Onslaught as Vortex draws one of the sharp blades of his rotor and you hear the huge mech snarl in pain to make your son chirp in fear, feeling something warm spatter against your neck and back as you shudder. Hear a crash, both mechs snarling in their own language and another crash. Curling yourself tighter around your son, it takes you a moment to realize the noise has abruptly stopped. And you flinch when an arm comes around you before realizing it’s just Vortex mass displaced.

• Mouth brushing Onslaught’s energon from your neck and cheek, he wraps his arms around you from behind. And rumbles in amusement when his son sinks his little denta into his hand, growling shakily. Your head turns to stare at him and he licks a spatter of energon from your cheek. “No one threatens my family,” he croons, free hand tipping your face his way and you relax as his mouth slides against his. “I don’t think I did any permanent damage this time,” he adds, nudging you with his head as his son shakes his head, biting down harder. “Bloodthirsty just like his little carrier,” he adds as you shift to curl into him and for a moment he panics, always off balance when things get too real. Freezing as you lay your head against him before gathering you to him.

• Nudging your head up under Vortex’s chin, you gently pry your son’s denta loose, cupping his chubby cheek when he starts trying to shakily growl at his sire. Knowing he can pick up on your and Vortex’s fields, that the uncertain, sometimes violent nature of your relationship isn’t something the sparkling understands. Because it’s still strange to you that you can love Vortex and want to make him bleed. Knowing that he’s as broken as you are, driven by the same hungers. Thoughts that you’d been brought up to know were wrong, but somehow aren’t with him. Pleasure and pain tangled and inseparable when you’re together, becoming something dangerous and exquisite. But not with your son, never want any harm to come to him. Want him to be better than both of you. To know he’s loved. “Only I get to bite your daddy,” you whisper, brushing a kiss against his little head as Vortex’s hand on your hip shifts, servos digging in until it almost hurts as your mate growls.

[m6cabre]

warmth in the cold p.5

p.1, p.2, p.3, p.4

warnings: swearing, arguments, family issues, mentions of non severe injury to a young child

written in third person, no use of "y/n." reader is referred to with female pronouns and terms of endearment.

she hurried over to answer the phone. grabbing it off the receiver, she heard her father's voice.

"i need to talk to my daughter," he stated, knowing anyone could've answered the phone.

"it's me, dad," she muttered.

"we are having a family dinner this weekend. be there. six o'clock. your grandmother's house."

"dad, i—"

the line went dead. johnny walked over, donnie on his hip.

"who was that?" johnny asked.

"my dad," she mumbled, "he wants us to come to a family dinner."

johnny signed. donnie looked between them, seemingly confused.

despite not wanting to go, she packed them up that weekend and drove up to boston. she arrived at her grandmother's house at 5:45. they walked inside, huddled close together. they shucked off their jackets and slid off their shoes, tucking them off to the corner. they walked into the living room and everyone's eyes immediately landed on them.

"who invited her and her freak baby-daddy?" one of her cousins asked. she held donnie a bit closer instinctively and johnny's hand tightened on her hip.

"my dad invited us," she mumbled.

"well, we should make sure you don't have too much dinner then, dear," her grandmother commented condescendingly, poking her stomach.

she stepped back, uncomfortable. she held her son even closer, as if he was her support beam. he laid his little head on her chest, hand gripping her sweater. johnny's hand rubbed her side gently.

"lemme see the baby," one of her uncles insisted, approaching with a discomforting grin. as he tried to grab donnie, she stepped back and johnny grabbed his arm to stop him.

"back off," johnny snapped, body beginning to heat up.

the uncle gave him a nasty look but backed off. she shuffled closer to johnny, still holding donnie tightly. she didn't trust her family enough to put him down. they'd do something. she knew it. and, she was proven right at dinner.

as they ate dinner, she had put donnie down because everyone was at the table. one cousin got up to 'go to the bathroom'. a moment later, she heard a bang, followed by sobs and laughter. she quickly stood up, nearly knocking over her chair as she ran into the living room. donnie sat on the floor, bawling as a red bump formed on his head. a baseball sat beside him, seemingly having been thrown at him. she rushed over to her cousin, slapping him roughly.

"what the hell's the matter with you?" she shouted, "he's a baby, and you throw a fucking baseball at him?"

"i was just trying to play catch with him," the cousin lied.

"oh, you son of a—"

johnny grabbed her, pulling her back.

"let's get donnie and go," he suggested softly. she was silent for a moment, but she walked away, grabbing donnie from the floor. she walked out, johnny following close behind. they gathered their coats and boots before rushing out of the door.

she buckled donnie into his car seat and climbed into the passenger seat. johnny slid into the front seat, silently. they returned home that night at 11:00. they put donnie to bed, then they got into bed themselves. she sat against the headboard, silently staring at the wall.

"hey," johnny muttered, "don't tell me you still feel bad about that."

"rick through a damn baseball at him," she choked out, tears welling in her eyes.

"he's alright, sugar. he'll just have a goose egg for a few days," johnny reassured, rubbing her back.

"we should've never gone," she sobbed, "i was so stupid for thinking they would behave normally."

"oh, honey," he sighed, wrapping his arms around her and continuing to rub her back gently. she continued sobbing against him, head tucked under his chin.

she felt like a terrible mother. she should've never accepted that invite. her poor baby was hurt now.

"never let me accept something like that again," she begged.

"i won't, sugar, don't worry," he reassured, kissing her head as she snuggled closer.

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