#he just needs to sit in corners sometimes

[icedbeverageenjoyer]

🖤📺🖤📺🖤📺🖤📺🖤📺🖤📺🖤📺🖤📺🖤📺

🖤📺Mr. Puzzles' Fluff Alphabet!! 📺🖤

Hey guys!!! The moment I saw snakes-writing-corner's fluff alphabet I couldn't focus on any of my other stuff until I've made one on my own! It's surprisingly easier than the oneshots I'm used to-- but on with the fluff!!!

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

He is incredibly affectionate and always wants to pamper you with kisses and compliments! Though he only shows it when the cameras stop rolling and he's sure you two are alone.

His love language is words of affirmation, since there is no better way to express his love than saying it directly! You would think he'd eventually run out of things to compliment, but his vocabulary is vast and colourful, making you blush every time. He is also multilingual, so sometimes he'll sweettalk you in a different language only to fluster you.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend?) 

Since you are his partner (and thus, his only friend), you're already his best friend! But if you weren't dating he'd probably be just as chaotic. He will call you in the middle of the night and ask you for input on his scripts, oftentimes his voice doesn't get picked up clearly and you just hear garbled static with the occasional manic laughter.

Sometimes he'll just skip the phone entirely, break into your house, and put on a movie so you two could watch. If the sound of a door being kicked to the ground or the smell of perfectly cooked popcorn doesn't wake you up, him manhandling you and throwing you at the couch (not on, at) is sure to do the trick!

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

He is not used to people touching him or vice versa. The only times in the puzzlevision arc where he touched someone were when he was threatening Mario or fighting the crew, so he only makes physical contact when nessesary.

The closest thing to cuddling he would do is sit next to you and press his screen against your temple. It's not exactly a kiss, but more like him resting his head on you after a long day.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they around the house?) 

If you were to live in his studio together he would give you your own room and personalize it to your needs! He doesn't need to clean much since he almost never leaves his office unless it is to either pester the Smg4 crew or hang out with you.

If you two live at your place he'd be a little bit more organized and take on all the cooking. He has been the host for a few MasterChef-like shows, so he knows how to make a nice three course meal when you both eventually get tired of takeout. His specialty is breakfast, mainly pancakes, and he takes great pride in it!

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?) 

He would never allow himself to break up with you, and if you were to break up with him, he simply won't let you. Every time you'd try to explain that you're leaving him he'd either talk over you or just cover his antenna and pretend he's not listening, all the while still doing romantic gestures for you as if nothing happened. He is naturally stubborn and refuses to take any form of rejection.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?) 

Almost immediately. He would throw a big, sappy wedding and show up in either the cleanest, most stylish sleek suit on the market or the biggest, most beautiful poofy dress ever made.

He'd record the whole thing in five different angles to get every detail on film, but he won't release it to the public. This special day will be for his eyes only.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Incredibly gentle! He doesn't touch you often, but when he does, his fingers are featherlight, and the cozy warmth of his old screen pressed against your face is always comforting.

He could get a little harsh sometimes and say things he really wasn't supposed to, but he always comes back and apologizes when things go too far.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? What are their hugs like?)

He is not used to them at all. Usually if anyone else were to hug him he'd kick them off immediately, but he's more patient when it comes to you.

He feels safe enough around you to let you get closer, but he'll be frozen stiff the entire time, not entirely comfortable with the pressure on his skin just yet. Still, every time you back away he'd insist he doesn't mind, and he means it, he appreciates every form your love comes in. And if you're ever upset, he'll wrap his lanky arms around you and just keep them there until you're feeling better.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?) 

In the early stages of your relationship he wouldn't actually see you as a love interest, but pretend to be interested so you'll fall for him and be there in case you were ever useful.

Soon, however, he found himself actually catching feeling for you. And after some inner turmoil, he finally confesses for real! After that, he would say 'i love you' in almost every conversation. At first he copied what he saw on television, he'd recreate every dramatic gesture and cheezy date, but it would always leave him frustrated for whatever reason.

It wasn't until you pointed out that he was acting instead of actually having fun that he started to slip out of his show host persona. Now his use of 'I love you' is much more sparse, but every time he says it, you know he means it.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?) 

Extremely. He is agressively passive-aggressive and if he sees anyone even looking at you in a way he doesn't like he'd immediately be onto them. He'd start off polite at first, basically telling them 'get out or I will throw you out' without saying it, but if they still don't get the hint he will grab them by the scruff of the neck and drag them out.

He would come back to you with a muffin from the snack cart and lead you away to show you his progress on filming the upcoming movie. You're not listening though, neither are you eating, the faint smell of gunpowder coming off of him immediately stumping your appetite.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

His kisses are him pressing his screen against your face. He doesn't have lips, but his gentle electronic warmth is enough to linger on your skin. He loves kissing your face and hands, having them securely in his hold as he peppers you with kisses. He also likes it when you kiss back, especially around the wires on his wrists and neck, as it is one of the few places where he can still feel touch.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?) 

He's not really a kids guy. On one hand most of his shows are aimed towoards a younger audience, and he wants to introduce kiddos to the wonders of TV! On the other...he can't handle the loud crying and sticky fingers.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

At the morning you will wake up to the smell of freshly made breakfast before you feel him pulling the covers off of you and dragging you to the kitchen. He'd talk about his plans for the day while you're still waking up and grazing on your toast. 

He would then head to the studio, but not before kissing you and saying goodbye like a working husband going out for a long day at the office.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?) 

Due to his upgrades and mostly electronic nature he doesn't need to sleep. Usually when you go to bed he stays up in his office, pouring his heart out on a script he'd likely end up tossing. Sometimes when he's lonely he'd quietly sneak in your room and lay down next to you, his screen facing you on a blank, staticy channel.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?) 

He doesn't mind sharing his 'tragic backstory' with others, seeing it as just another selling point of his persona, but you seem to be the only one to take it seriously. The irreversible effects of long-term isolation had warped him into a charecature of what he loved most.

You try to make him see just how horrible his situation is so he can start to heal and develop a real personality, but it seams near impossible to get through to him. You can't fix something that dead and gone.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?) 

Patience is not a virtue Puzzles acknowledges. The second something goes off scrip he will freak out and immediately focus all of his resources on fixing it. He craves control and if something doesn't go his way he will stop at nothing to get what he wants. When he is sulking in his office even the smallest little thing can set him off. 

Luckily, he seemed to have mellowed out after his defeat. When he gets worked up, instead of exploding and taking it out on the closest thing to him (he still misses his favorite remote), he simply let's out a long, tired sigh and goes back to work. Progress, you'd like to believe!

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?) 

He has a very advanced database that he's already explained to you in detail, but you still can't grasp how it works exactly. What you could somehow get was that ever since his face surgeryupgrade, he has been able to record and play back everything he's seen in vivid detail.

He has special folders of where he stores information and one of them is entirely dedicated to you. Every single interaction or passing glimpse is recorded, and sometimes when you're away for a while he likes to play them back and just listen to you talk.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?) 

Probably when he realized you were more important to him than everyone else. It was before you guys started dating. He was in the office repairing his hand after a loose prop fell on him, but he couldn't lock the mechanism in place with just one arm.

It wasn't until you walked in and offered to help that he finally let you touch him, albeit only his non-feeling, motionless palm. When he was done he muttered a quiet 'thanks' and began readjusting the fiberglass plates.<

"No problem, that's what friends are for, after all."

That was when it really sunk in. You guys really were acting just like friends. And it wasn't a staged act or anything, it was all just natural interactions. He had to rationalize it in his brain for quite a bit after that. Were you really friends, or was that just a passing remark? No, you actually meant it. Would he consider you for a friend to begin with...yes.

And so it was official. The day he gained his first friend.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you?) 

He has never felt the need to hire bodyguards, since his pointer finger alone is considered a highly lethal weapon, not only that, but he has complete control over the studio. So if anyone ever tried to break in, he'll just snap his fingers and have a heavy piano prop crush them.

That being said, he is your personal guard dog and will absolutely snap someone out of existence if he feels you are being threatened. 

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?) 

Puzzles is a tryhard in every way the word could be interpreted. When he figured out there's more to a relationship than surface level romantic cliches, he began to put more thought into what he gifts or what dates he takes you on, wanting them to be just perfect for you! 

Just like the shows he directs, most of them are hit or miss, but he puts his soul into every single thing he does for you, and you'll always treasure that!

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

His smoking and temper. He's a chain smoker, having one every odd day on good weeks, and blowing through a pack on particularly rough ones. 

For his temper, he usually has a specific set of rules before blowing up. First - try nicely. If that doesn't work, try again, but a bit more sternly. If that doesn't work, try again, but this time make it a clear, threatening warning. And if that doesn't work either, just brainwash them into complying.

You have gone through most of those stages at least a few times, but not the last one. At least, not that you remember. Maybe he figured taking control wasn't worth the trouble, or he was so frustrated that he didn't want to deal with you anymore, but you did notice his patience has been improving, especially when it came to you. Maybe all those therapy sessions you dragged him kicking and screaming to were working!

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Looking as nice as possible is a must, especially if it is to impress you! He obsessively fixes his puffy arm sleeves to fold just right, and if there's something wrong with his current outfit like a stain he hasn't noticed or a crease that won't go away he will just replace the entire outfit with a new, completely identical one. </p>

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Yes. No matter at what stage of the healing journey he's in, you will always be a big part of his world. If you go, he loses his partner, his best friend, his co-director, and everyone he's ever loved. He'd be left alone, as he always was, with his TV. . .And for the first time in forever, he'd grow to hate it.

X = Xtra (Random HC) 

While it was his lifelong dream to work in the creative field of television, Mr. Puzzles is not a creative person. He's more of a businessman than a director, creating several successful tech companies for the sole purpose of funding the studio, despite the low ratings. 

Low ratings which are caused by his complete inability to be original, pulling plot points from other established classics and writing them in with his own, stiff, awkward style of storytelling.

He speaks every language ever shown on TV, is fully able to perform invasive surgery without any risks, knows the copyright laws so well, he might as well be a lawyer, had a hand in engineering and programing his body, and has definitely done some less than legal things to get where he is today in the industry. And yet the thing that stumps him is actually being creative.

Y = You (How would they talk about you?)

Your relationship with him is one of the very few things he wishes to keep in his 'private life', so he doesn't talk about you often, mostly just quickly mentioning you when he explains his absence. "Ah, so sorry for depriving you all of my presence, my lovely partner wanted to watch 'Food fight' for the first time and I simply HAD to intervene!"

". . .who invited y-"

"ANYWAYS back to the show!-"

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?) 

He has a powered down mode when he recharges. Before going in that mode he'll go to your room and lay down army style on your bed, but by the time you come home you'll see him  sprawled out on your bed, one foot on the pillow, the other dangling from the edge, with his screen displaying the puzzlevision logo bouncing off the four walls of his monitor.

Thank you guys for reading, hope you enjoyed and have a great day!!! 💕💗💞

[reds-writings]

souls further entwined

(pairing: rust cohle x fem!reader)

a/n: finally an update for these two! sorry to keep you waiting! I've got a lot of life changes in the works so updates might come a little slower over the next few months depending but i hope this tides y'all over for a bit! this takes place sometime after if only tonight we could sleep

word count: roughly 2.5k

warnings: (PLEASE LOOK BEFORE CONTINUING) discussions of abortion, child loss, forced/unsafe medical procedures, bad family situations, angst angst, cursing, semi-not-so-smut at the end, minors avert your gaze or else!!

The hidden gem of a restaurant that Rust had brought you to somewhere in the French Quarter was rather nice with its live jazz band playing in the corner and lavish decor. The tinkering of silverware layered on top of the low rumblings of fellow diners did what it could to fill the void of silence that had long settled between you and the man sitting adjacent. He had spontaneously asked you– well more like told you to go out with him tonight. Something about wanting to do things right once and for all after all this tiptoeing around.  The whole notion had taken you off guard, admittedly.

You’d been buzzing so bright leading up to tonight that you could've probably put a lightning bug to shame. He’d asked you on a real date. A step forward from the semi-clandestine meetings you’d both been settling on for far too long now. It was unlike him to outwardly admit to much but you doubted it was a wide occurrence that he’d take a girl on a date just because he was bored. This had meaning.

With that thought swirling in mind, you’d found your best dress and took what constituted as way too long of a pampering shower to best prepare for a promising night out with the man you'd become so deeply enamored with. It wasn’t often you got to get all prettied up for some fun given that work always managed to swallow you whole. 

God you’d been so excited. 

From the time you’d gotten into Rust’s Ford up until you’d sat down to eat he had yet to utter a single word to you. Hell, he’d hardly even managed to look at you either and it was starting to cause a distasteful rock that went by the name of dread to sink lower and lower in your gut. 

Dexterous fingers stayed picking at the table cloth as a form of lengthy distraction and you fought the bubbling urge to snatch his hand and demand what gives. It wasn’t hard to miss the anxiety bleeding from his form with those tense shoulders and that telltale faraway look in his eyes. You didn’t want to continue the cycle of jumping to conclusions when it came to the routine lack of forthcoming involving his more vulnerable thoughts out of insecurity so you bit the bullet,

“Y’know…usually on a date there’s a bit more talkin;. Maybe startin’ with questions like ‘what’s your favorite color’-- it’s blue by the way, or ‘where’d you get that lovely dress’. Could also do with lookin’ a little less green in the gills.”

That got him to stop fidgeting but a response was not yet prompted. You sighed and looked down at the vibrant cloth napkin in your lap,

“If you’re startin’ to regret this we can just forget about it and head back-”

“I don’t know if I can be what you need.” He all but blurted and it had your head shooting back up in suprise.

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t…I don’t find myself being suited for marriage like before. I can’t give you kids because I don’t think it’s right-”

“Wait a minute just-...slow your roll for a second.” Your mind was going a mile a minute at his frank outburst and you were having trouble pinpointing just where it all came from. 

“First of all, I don’t necessarily need the promise of marriage to feel fulfilled. I’m about to hit 30 soon enough and I’ve supplied plenty for myself that I'm not sure some flimsy marriage papers can add on to. I’m not just sayin’ all this to make you feel better either so don’t go down that route.” You were tenderly stern in your delivery to make sure what you were saying was actually sticking without sounding offended.

All he could give was a slight nod as the tip of his thumb came to his mouth: a nervous tic.

“Secondly…” You cleared your throat slightly and gave yourself a moment of pause. The latter concern wasn’t that of an easy subject. For either of you. Besides your family and probably Marty, not many knew of your reality when it came to the idea of starting a family. 

“I can’t have children. So that wouldn’t even be on the table to begin with I suppose.” 

That seemed to stun Rust. His expression working out how, what, and when this came to be. You cleared your throat again. Talking about it was never easy no matter how much time passed.

“The gist of it is…well I got knocked up when I was sixteen. Total accident, shocker. And um…my pa didn't approve. Not one bit, bein’ the respectable county figure he was as a seasoned lawyer n' all.” 

Your sinuses began to sting but you willed away any threat of tears as you tried to explain. Rust didn't say a word, his expression hardening minutely with a knowing sense of where this was headed.

“I didn’t wanna listen. I was scared of course but the boy I was foolin’ around with at the time was nice and had a family who wanted to be involved so that was enough for me. My uppity family could shove it for all I cared,” You scoffed wryly but continued, “But pa was adamant. He couldn’t have some little whore of daughter muckin’ things up but we were a church family so abortion was obviously out of the question. At least one would think that was the case,” 

“Long story short he dragged me to some back alley clinic where things would be kept under wraps. They fuckin’ botched it of course and made me sterile. Didn’t really know how bad it was until another loss and a visit with the doctor after trying with a serious boyfriend some time ago…” You shrugged as you fiddled with your unused silverware. You hadn’t spoken with your family since then. Letting you be mutilated for the sake of preserving a frivolous public image was a hard thing to let go of.

You remember how sick you were afterward. Infection from the procedure and a decent amount of blood loss, go figure. You only recall the house's maids nursing you back.

Your pa had never been able to look you in the eye again. Your mama just pretended nothing had ever happened the way it did.

Sometimes your mind had the habit of taking a dark turn every now and then, wondering if they would’ve felt any remorse if their forced course of action ended up actually killing you. With a selfishness like they had you couldn't help but doubt it. 

They had always taken more pride in your sister anyway. 

“So yeah…you don’t have to worry about the possibility of kids when it comes to me. It’s not like with our line of work it’d be much of a good idea anyway. Marty’s a prime example I'd reckon.” Your laugh was brittle in a weak attempt to lift the heavy weight you felt like you’d set over the mood. 

Rust’s large hand reached over to encase your shaking one to garner your attention. Looking up you weren’t met with pity or disgust, but with recognition. One shared in the experience of grief. Of having something meant to be so precious ripped from you in the cruelest of ways. He didn’t feel sorry for you. He understood you. More than anyone else had or could. 

“You’re enough for me, Rust. I don’t know if you’ve noticed by now but there’s not much you can do to send me runnin’ for the hills. I like you as you are and I don’t need more. I wouldn’t expect you to change your mind over somethin’ like that anyway. It just wouldn’t be fair to ask.” His eyes glazed over at your words and he had to let go of the troubled breath he’d been holding. He brought your hand to his lips and kept them there as an unspoken thank you. 

After a moment or two he set your hand back on the tabletop, still grasped in his. 

“How about we find some shitty dive and let loose over there. This place is startin’ to feel a lil’ too stuffy for me.” Your light-hearted jab made the corner of his lips quirk up before he nodded,

“Yes, ma'am.” 

—

After a relaxing drive accompanied by the tunes of Willie Nelson in search of a dive bar that was sufficient enough, the ice from all the worries of earlier had melted as fast as they had formed. The establishment you ended up coming across was a more than welcome change of pace compared to that of the restaurant (as lovely as it was). It wasn’t big by any means but there was room to dance and plenty of open spots to sit around and drink. 

You looped your arm through his and leaned into his side as you made your way to settle down. There wasn’t enough time or clarity earlier to truly appreciate just how good he looked for the occasion but now you had all the time in the world to shamelessly ogle.

He’d donned a black dress shirt, forgoing a tie and leaving a few buttons undone in a way that had you feeling dizzy, as well as a nice fitting pair of jeans that had plenty of passersby’s eyes glued to his shapely form.

“The ladies of Louisiana might just beat me up for a chance with you. If your face ain’t motivation enough your ass surely will be.” You nudged him and he shook his head mirthfully. 

“One would say jealousy is unbecoming.”

“Who said anythin’ about jealousy? I’ve earned my stake in claimin’ you as eye candy fair and square. They can try all they want but they were just too slow to the draw.”

“With your pension for being scrappy, I’d say they wouldn’t have much of a chance to begin with.” 

“Gee, is that the only reason they don’t stand a chance?” You quirked a brow. You knew the answer but pestering him to fess up hardly ever got you far. 

“What d’ya wanna drink, Miss Envy.” He drawled, not one to fall into your traps so easily and you flicked him with narrowed eyes.

“Last time I checked my name don’t even come close to rhymin’ with envy so you can quit with that.” 

The shithead just smirked.

“I’ll take a jack and coke. Now run along.” You waved him away and he just shook his head. In his short absence you’d found a high top and decided to claim as your territory for the night. The music was clearer over this way and your heart jumped at the beginning notes of Fleetwood Mac’s Beautiful Child.

Upon his return, Rust had hardly been able to set the drinks down before you were grabbing at him to park yourselves out on the dancefloor. A few other couples were swaying in place so you figured it wouldn’t be all that awkward to steal a moment for yourselves.

It was strange, being able to be so open in your affections without the curious eyes of Marty or anyone else from the precinct to make judgments. You could just be yourselves. It was a breath of fresh air after all this time.

As the song gained momentum, you wrapped your arms around his neck, toying with the hairs at his nape while his strong ones made home around your waist to pull you in closer. A small spark of pride lit up your chest at him being able to be this comfortable with you.

As you rested your head along the expanse of his chest you felt the feather-light stamp of his kiss at your crown. The tenderness of the simple act almost had you turning into one hell of a mush puddle. You settled on burrowing deeper if that were any more possible as Stevie sang on. Fighting the effect he had on you was always going to be a losing battle. 

You wouldn’t trade this moment for a damned thing. 

—

It was nearing almost three in the morning by the time you arrived back home. Your mind had been pleasantly warmed by the drinks and all the dancing. Rust even seemed to have a newfound glow to him and it was triggering something innately carnal in you. 

Taking an opportunity from the pocket of silence, you scooted along the Ford’s bench seat to make a place for yourself along his lap. 

The relaxed daze displayed across his features was something you’d never had the pleasure of seeing before. It was nothing like the faraway trance he’d trap himself in with all the pills and whatnot in fruitless efforts of chasing undisturbed sleep. No, this was true content. 

“I had a good time.” You didn’t mean to sound so coy but it couldn’t be helped as your hands crept up to frame his fine face.

“That’s good. I’m glad.” He hummed as he took in every feature your beautiful face had to offer. It was like striking gold. Especially in this expansive wasteland of a state.

“When we get a chance we should do it again. S’nice to go out…feel normal…” Hair lying in his line of light distracted you as you moved it out of the way with a gentle sweep. The truck’s cab could probably burst with the steadily increasing tension so you did what any normal woman would do with such a man in front of them and kissed him with all you had. 

It started out syrupy and languid as if you had all the time in the world to be out macking in the car like a pair of careless teenagers. Your skin hummed like a live wire at his sudden grasp on the plush fat of your hips which served as the green light to go further. 

Your delicate fingers carded through his soft waves as the muscle of his tongue took dominance over the kiss. A meek whimper cracked within your throat as you tried to keep up with what little oxygen you had remaining. When Rust kissed, it was all-consuming. It was no act he took passively when it came to you which had been made crystal clear to you by now. With each pass of his wet-hot caress, you could feel everything he wanted to say to you without complication of expression through words. 

His mouth traveled across the apple of your cheek down the expanse of your neck, nipping and sucking with such lax reverence it had you arching as if you could fuse your ribs with his. Souls to be permanently intertwined.

With a starting grind of your hips that your body had no willpower to control you could feel him hardening with each intensifying roll. His choked moan had you remembering where you were and you’d be damned if your first actual night with him was in this old, damned truck right outside your house. 

“D’ya wanna take this inside?” You offered in a breathless huff, trying to catch your breath in vain. You’re sure that even in the dark of the truck’s cabin the heat of your face could set the whole space aglow. He nipped at your bottom lip and soothed it with another peck,

“I would.”

The sudden tangle of limbs clambering to make haste towards the beacon of your front door would’ve been downright hysterical had you any hubris. 

a/n: sorry to blue ball you lmao. I HOPE THIS WASN'T CRINGE AHHHHH. i'll probably come back and edit this later. feedback is always appreciated!

[teddynivvy]

schlatt and server reader is literally plaguing my mind. need him coming in to sit in my section, tipping so well and then eventually getting all the coworkers to be like “who is bro??? and why he always tip you so good 😭😭” n then you’re like “oh thats literally my bf” and everyone’s like 😮

ORRRR

he’s like a regular with ted n charlie but if he’s like at the bar he’d be a couple drinks in and is like “is toots working today?? haven’t seen em in a while” and then you get sent out n you’re like “you been askin about me?” and he’s all smiles n “haven’t seen you in a while, just wanted to see my favorite server” n ted n charlie are like “yeah bro always talks about you” and boom love story

or hell yall work together and love to smooch in the back n he always runs your food out for you but everyone thinks it’s rlly cute, like you’re putting food in the system n he’s behind u rubbing your back being like “you forgot they wanted no gravy on the mashed potatoes”

but idk i didn’t rlly put too much thought into it…

wait bc why is server!schlatt kinda….. doing it for me…. also i hope u don’t mind i kinda mushed everything together LOL, let me know if u want more of this!!

server!schlatt who for some reason always gets insane tips even tho he’s kinda an asshole to all the customers

immediately started flirting with u when he got hired… esp if you were training him LMAO

jumps in if ur tables are making u uncomfortable or flirting with u - and sometimes outright takes them over if they’re being assholes and is like “what you don’t wanna flirt with me? aren’t i pretty too?”

first kiss is def in the walk-in when he corners u and asks u point blank if u have a crush on him, and all u can do is kiss him bc he’s so close and has a hand beside ur head on the bin of lemons for the bar

manyyyy more rendezvous in the walk-in hehehe

when ted and charlie come in, he points u out to them while you’re working and is like “yeah seriously they’re so hot i’m kinda losing it” lol

ofc ted and charlie immediately tell u when u come by to check on their table, like “btw schlatt thinks ur super hot just fyi” and schlatt just blushes and hits them with his note pad

def a lot of little touches and spending time around u, looking to see if anyone else is watching while ur putting food in the system and he’s kissing your neck or rubbing your back

going out for smoke/vape breaks with him just to spend time together without anyone else there

wears a tight black t shirt and black pants every day, showing off the outline of his biceps and chest *drool*

always uses his cash tips to buy u a drink after work just so you don’t have to go home yet :) even tho he’s so exhausted from his shift

uses your purple frilly pen when he can’t find his lmao (def not because he likes it)

[thecuriousquest]

Yan!Armin Thoughts

Warnings: Heavy yandere themes, SFW, manipulation, pain, manipulation, mouth soaping and corner time as punishments, a bit infantilizing/degrading

Master List

—————————————————————————

Armin is on the softer side of the Yandere scale, but he is not above exhausting every means necessary in order to make you understand that you belong to him.

Your mind is not your own. He will replace your thoughts, educate you in his own way, so that you will come to understand that the way he thinks is the best way. No, you don’t need thoughts and opinions of your own. Just listen to Armin. He knows what’s best. He’s smarter than you are. Don’t worry your pretty little head with things that don’t matter.

Pain towards others: he’s not opposed to it, but it’s not his preferred method. He doesn’t want to harm or kill, so he will ruin lives instead. He will start with slight gaslighting, telling other men who have an interest in you that you have some kind of STD. Then, he will slowly work his way towards getting said men fired, forcing them to downsize their house, possible even forcing them to find a new home away from your district.

Pain towards you: Hates it. Absolutely loathes seeing you in pain. It’s even worse if it’s the type of pain that makes you cry, whether physical or emotional. He knows that driving some (or a lot) of people out of your life is going to hurt. He’s a very smart man and has calculated this already, but it’s still a necessary means in order to secure you. He wants to be the only man in your life, the only man that you’ll ever need. Whereas he doesn’t like causing you pain, he’ll do it if he thinks he has to because sometimes, words just aren’t enough. You need to understand, face the reality, that you are not your own person anymore. You belong to Armin, heart included.

There’s always going to be enough room in the relationship to communicate with him. However, you’ll need to tread lightly. Sit down and talk about whatever is bothering you. That’s fine. He likes it when you come to him in good faith. It’s only when he tries to talk to you about the problem in a couple of different ways that he starts to get frustrated because he sees that it’s no longer a conversation. You just want to argue with him and have your way. That’s not going to fly with Armin. You can try to be as sneaky as you want to be, but he’ll always catch on.

Preferred punishment: A good mouth soaping never really hurt anyone. Yes, it tastes awful. It’s a punishment. It’s not meant to be enjoyed. This way, he doesn’t have to physically hurt you into obedience. Leaving a bar of soap in your mouth for five to ten minutes and giving you a time out is enough to teach you how to respect him as your loving boyfriend.

He wears the title of “boyfriend” like a badge of honor. He does anything and everything for you. He gives you books that he likes, he’ll smuggle you extra rations of food (even from his own plate), and he’ll find places where flowers grow and bring you some.

As much as he loves giving you attention and affection, he is good about giving you your space. Sometimes, you get upset and need to be by yourself. Sometimes, you just need to decompress. As much as it pains him to have to leave you alone during the times which you need rest or space, he is always willing so see what you need and give it to you.

He’s probably the smartest yandere while also not being completely aware that what he’s doing is wrong. He doesn’t really believe that his love for you or the ways in which he shows love for you is “wrong”. How can his love for you be wrong? How can driving men away from you and punishing you for trying to argue about limits and things like that be considered a “bad thing”? He loves you so much, and he’s trying his best.

On a lighter note, I feel like he really enjoys kissing your nose. He’ll cup your jaw and cheeks with the palms of his worn hands, having you look into the sparkle of his eyes, the only time his eyes glisten in such a way is when he’s around you. He’ll bend down to your height and press a gentle kiss against the tip of your nose. When he pulls away after a few seconds of his lips lingering on your skin, he’ll look at you again with the sweetest smile, running his thumbs along the softness of your cheeks.

Some of the things he says to you:

“Darling, don’t cry. I know it’s hard, but you just need to bear with it for a little while longer. Okay? I love you. You just need to trust me. Can you do that? Can you trust me, my love?”

“YOU DID WHAT?! WHY WOULD YOU THINK CUTTING A POTATO WITH A KNIFE WOULD BE OKAY?! PUT THAT DOWN! NOW! No, I’ll do it! You might hurt yourself.”

“I don’t mean to be insulting…but you’re not exactly acting with intelligence right now, my love.”

“If I didn’t know any better, I would say you’re trying to sneak away from me…but you would never do that, right? Right?”

“Come on, you need to get to bed. No, put down the book right now. Sleep is important. The story can wait until tomorrow.”

[breadandblankets]

CivE Duke - inspired by this post by mysterycitrus

This was one of Duke's favorite parts of his job. Not that one, the other one, the civilian one.

"Duke Thomas," his mother had told him when he got his engineer's seal crimp in the mail. "Is every bit Gotham's hero as much as The Signal is."

Every other week it seemed he donned his steel toed boots, hard hat, and high vis and went to look at the bones of some old building.

Most days were sat at his desk in a nice comfy high rise in Old Gotham, eyes glued to the searing white of some ancient as-builts on his screen. (As-builts, especially in Gotham, were more of a suggestion than a rule, his team had started calling them "Maybe-builts" and it fit more than he'd like.)

Gotham, in Duke's experience, had good bones for the most part. Even caked in years and years of grime, asbestos, and mob snitches, there was beauty in pulling away the facade to look at all that union-made bessemer steel.

Today on the chopping block was a Park Row mid-rise, slated for either refurbishment or demolition, all depending on Duke's word.

It wasn't anything even close to the rush of saving a life, but there is a light feeling he gets, knowing that some old structure can be reused.

Duke knows its a little silly to get sad when something old is beyond saving, especially when he signs over it's death.

"It's like a forest fire," his dad had told him once, after he watched his first controlled demolition. "You gotta burn out the dead things so new things can live."

This building though, Duke has a good feeling about it. Or at least that is what he tells his trainee, Ines, while he scans the building with his X-ray vision.

Ines Borja is a bright kid fresh from the hell that is Gotham U's CivE program, she's not a Gotham native but while living here she fell in love with the city (and it's cost of living). According to her, New York isn't much worse, Gotham's just weirder.

Weird is, unfortunately, Duke's bread and butter. They pick through delapidated rooms with crumbling sheet rock with mostly intact concrete encased steel. He spots some areas with crumbling concrete that he points out to Ines, who dutifully takes photos.

"Those are areas we'll need to test for water penetration and corrosion," Duke explains.

He's explaining other testing that will need to be done, radar of the foundation, metallurgical testing, etc, when they hear yelling outside.

For a moment Duke ignores it, but the hard walls carry echos of what's being said.

"I'm not going to ask again, your money asshole!"

The flat thud of a notebook hitting the ground is the last thing Ines hears as Duke takes off like a shot.

His site walk boots are heavy, much much heavier than his Signal boots. They're for protection and insulation from the hard concrete he has to stand on all day. They're so not meant for running, he thinks as he barrels out of the survey site and around the corner.

There are two figures in the alley when he stomps into the scene, slipping his hard hat off. The mugger is on the younger end, thats about all the analysis Duke gets to do before he sees the gun.

It's nice sometimes, Duke things, as he spins like a discus thrower, to fight normal city problems. He's liable to get bogged down in big world ending shit that sometimes its just nice to save a mugging victim.

The reinforced plastic leaves his fingers in a rush, aimed straight and true, slamming into the gun in the mugger's right hand.

Both the mugger and muggee have a moment of shock before Duke slams into the first guy like a freight train, knocking him out of the confrontation and onto the ground.

"I'd advise you sit down for a moment," Duke says to the would-be mugger, flatly. He turns to the shaking older man.

"Sir are you alright," he asks politely.

"I am now," the older man, well dressed but not wealthy in the way that Duke knows people in the town are. "Thank you very much."

"Alright then," Duke says calmly, he fishes in his pockets for one of the many business cards he always keeps on himself. It's for a therapist, and a good one in Duke's opinion. A profession in too short supply in Gotham. "Might be best if you get on with your day, I'll stay with this young gentleman here."

The older man is clearly a true Gothamite, because he doesn't protest, just moves along. Probably not even the most traumatic thing the guy's witnessed in the last year.

Duke turns to young man on the ground, who hasn't moved a muscle from where Duke put him just a second ago.

"Hey man I don't want any trouble."

Ines chooses this moment to catch up, her skin flushed and she's panting, She is still carrying all the gear with her, which no doubt slowed her down.

"Bit late for that yeah?" Duke questions with a raise of his brow, he motions with his chin in the direction of the gun. It's a couple yards off, resting comfortably with his hard hat. "What's your name?"

"David sir, i-its not even loaded, just to scare people a bit," all comes out in a rush, the young man, David, is clearly terrified.

"Hey, I know, it's hard out here," Duke placates. Out of one of the seemingly endless pockets on his work pants he pulls out his wallet. Out comes two more cards and a couple of bills. "Listen, here's fifty bucks, go get yourself something to eat."

"I-"

"Hold on, I'm not done," Duke says. "This is the information for Leslie's clinic down the street, she can help you with a lot, or just point you towards someone who can. If you need anything else this is the Wayne Ent outreach office, the director there is Elaine, tell her Duke sent you."

"You- you're not going to call the cops?" David asks, bewildered.

"And have them do what? You're robbing a man for twenty dollars with a gun that has no bullets," Duke observes. "You clearly don't need jail time you need a hand."

As if to illustrate his point, Duke reaches out to help him up. David hesitates for a split second, before accepting the offered hand.

"Seriously thought," Duke continues. "Leslie and m-Elaine helped me though some of the worst times of my life okay, reach out to them, they can help, you're not in this alone."

David looked like he was about to cry.

"Thank you man, just thank you."

"Just looking out for my fellow man," Duke replies. "Now get going I got work."

David laughs a little at that before shuffling awkwardly by Ines. Duke turns to look at her.

"You are like, officially the coolest boss I've ever had," she tells him seriously.

"No way, didn't your last boss bow hunt wild boar?"

"Yeah but that's jack all compared to my Apparently incredibly based current boss."

Duke chuckles: "You don't even know about my teenage years."

"What, you were doing child anti-cop anarco-communist action?"

"More or less."

"Based as fuck," she says, amazed.

Duke just shrugs.

"My mom always said: never accept the world as it is, make it better. And so I do, so i will."

Duke turns a little, to look back at the mid-rise that will have new life breathed into it sooner or later.

So I will.

[dragon-spaghetti]

I just sent an ask about your most recent post but now I’m having more thoughts. Imagine Angel notices that Husk is being ran ragged. That Alastor is being a complete jerk, and Husk just seems to get more and more defeated as the day goes on while his pain gets worse. And Angel can’t fight Alastor for it (because he would know how terrible of an idea that is), but what he can do is just get everything ready for when Alastor’s finally bored. Get a heating pad, arrange the pillows on Husk’s bed in the best way for him to lay with minimal pain, then getting snacks and drinks and a show on the TV to distract him with. If he needs a bath, Angel’s the expert on preparing a hot one for sore muscles, and Angel waits at the couch in the lobby for him to get back so he can help him walk all the way from the front door to his room. Then plenty of snuggles of course

YES!!!! YESSSSS THIS EXACTLY!!!!!!!!!!

Angel knowssss what it's like to have an absolute bastard own you. He knows that stepping in just makes things worse. But he also knows that having someone to come home to when it's over, who will help lessen the pain and care for you, can make such a difference rather than curling up in an empty bed with nothing but your own self loathing over being in this position

Sometimes they just sit and cuddle in silence, other times husk asks for Angel to just. Talk. It's a welcome distraction from the static in his head, resting his face on that chest fluff to block out the shadows he can see in the corners of the room. When needs be Angel will preen the feathers of husk's wings and gently massage the muscles connecting them to his back, sore from lugging the heavy bastards around all day

And if Angel finds a way to convince Charlie and vaggie into distracting alastor from bothering husk for a few days, well then no one else needs to know 💖

[h50europe]

HELL HATH, NO FURY LIKE A FANDOM SCORNED (borrowed from the SPN fandom). I am not one who usually speaks up. But the things that are currently going down in the 911 fandom initiated from a particular corner of it with bashing actors and even harassing their family members on IG, as well as fellow fans, are disgusting. I had my share in other fandoms and got burned. I thought the 911 fandom was different. Little did I know.

The fandom has different levels of canonicity, from canon to fanon. The fandom is large enough to accommodate all of us. Can we please enjoy the present moment instead of playing the Oracle of Delphi? Speculations, discussions, and criticism (if constructive) are okay. But not going on a rampage based on hearsay, rumors, or a hunch.

The actors admit they are often unaware of what's coming next, as they receive their scripts on short notice. Longtime fans of the show know that anything is possible. Every fandom has its tin hats and conspiracy theorists, some of whom can be vocal and unpleasant.

However, the whole point of being in a fandom is to have fun. The playground is big enough for all of us, and plenty of talented, creative minds are contributing to the community.

Personally, I take the show as it comes. I'm used to not just having a favorite ship but an entire armada 😎 So I wouldn't go as far as declaring something "dead in the water" ( because I saw that concerning #Buddie) based solely on interviews. No offense here.

We should sit back and let the story unfold, treating it like a bottle of wine. You open it and then let it breathe. You don't immediately pour the liquid into the glass and drink it. Tim managed to surprise us by the end of the 100th episode. Who knows what else he has in store.

We are open to it. Of course, we sometimes disagree with the plot. But we don't throw a tantrum. There's already enough drama in this world. No need to add to it with "fandom wars" that go nowhere but hurt many people in the wake.

If you made it here, thanks for taking the time to read. You get an extra batch of brownie points...

[lemony-snickers]

Hey Lem!! Would you pls do smth with kakashi 28. If you'd like and if you are not already tired

I love you, take care, bye-bye!!💜💜

28. old gods - emily scott robinson.

carry my prayers on the ocean, carry my prayers on the sea and if you are meant to be mine, love, one day you'll come home to me

Kakashi pulls his cloak tighter around his face, shielding the tender skin of his cheeks from the cold, lashing rain. The bewitched wind is greedy, though, it claws at his hood, tangles his hair into knots, cracks open his lips. He can feel the magic in it the edge of a knife.

But all magic wanes eventually, all he needs to do is wait it out.

He growls as icy pinpricks of rain stab at his eyes, the new scar over his left eyelid still tender and swollen from a recent skirmish. Thunder rumbles overhead, the sky splitting across with a blinding streak of lightning.

Thunder rolls like a laugh and Kakashi cannot help but feel like the punchline of a cruel joke. The weather laughs at him, at the fool's errand he has set himself on. Desperation remains a faint flicker in his chest, just enough to keep him warm. To keep him moving when all he wants to do is stop.

your blue eyes are there when i close mine, i see your sweet face when i dream my heart is all raged in pieces, bleeding at every seam

He's been on the road for so long, Kakashi barely remembers the feel of a soft mattress at his back, the warmth of a real blanket. More often, he finds himself curled at the base of a tree, resting his head against the trunk at an angle that leaves him sore the following day as well as the one after. Sometimes he manages to find a corner of rock so he is protected on at least two sides, but it's rare.

Tonight, Kakashi is lucky to find an outcropping of rock partially shielded by a broad-limbed oak. It's not enough to keep the rain away, not really - especially when the rain is so specifically set upon him - but it's better than nothing. He slinks down into the tight space, shrugging his weary body into the least uncomfortable position he can manage before he tugs the hood down low over his forehad and closes his eyes.

Sleep won't find him, but it creeps close enough he can almost feel it and that's enough. It has to be.

i'm down on my knees at a crossing, wondering which way to go but all roads are dark through the valley, and i'll learn to walk them alone

You appear to him as a dream - or near enough he can't tell the difference. You stand before him, the rain falling everywhere but on you, your hair and your face and your clothes are so dry it makes Kakashi jealous - you look warm and content while the rain lashes around you, just barely tugging at the ends of your hair.

Your name slips in a croak from his parched lips and you smile. He watches your mouth move, but he can't hear you over the terrible discordance of the storm. He stands, stumbles over his tingling legs, weak from lack of blood flow. Kakashi pitches forward, reaches his hands out toward you.

Lightning splits the sky again and then you're gone and Kakashi is still sitting in his uncomfortable sleeping spot - the sun puts forth a grand, if mostly futile, effort to peel away the clouds. The rain is nothing more than mist, now, but Kakashi's clothes are so drenched and heavy it hardly matters.

With the noise of the storm diminished, he can hear the whispers on the breeze, all that remains of the spell that tried to drown him. He smiles, though it takes an immense effort.

but are you a trick of the memory that the old gods are playing on me? carry my prayers on the ocean, carry my prayers on the sea

Kakashi has come so far but he hardly has the will to continue. The tantalizing vision he had of you the night before feels like it's sucked all the air from his lungs - each step takes mor effort than the last, the weight of his sodden cloak doing all it cane to hold him in place, to drag his feet to a halt.

He wonders if the lethargy is a lingering effect of the storm's magic, one more hurdle to overcome.

He closes his eyes, tries to remember how you looked in his vision, tries to recall the exact movement of your lips as if he could figure out what you were trying to say by reading his memory.

But he doesn't understand. Hasn't since you left, since he woke one morning to find your side of the mattress empty, his father's sword gone. He knows, deep in his heart, you are trying to help. But he also knows that revenge will not bring satisfaction, will not heal the wounds he carries deep in his heart anymore than it wil bring his father or his friends back from the dead.

He wishes he could call you back to him, tug the tether he can feel stretching from his heart to yours until you return to his side, until he can feel the warmth of your body in his hands again.

He worries you have spent as many cold and ruthless nights with your back pressed to a tree instead of his chest, shivering in a cloak drenched by a vengeful storm.

i'm down on my knees at a crossing, wondering which way to go but all roads are dark through the valley, and i'll learn to walk them alone

Kakashi has battled too long to give up, but his knees protest each step. HIs eye - or, where his eye used to be - throbs in time with his heart beating.

He comes to a crossroad and hesitates, his feet unsure of which way he should turn. A light breeze brushes past him, soft as a caress against his cheek; he thinks he almost hears your voice carried on the air current. The wind whips his clock toward the right and Kakashi turns down the path, more confident than he perhaps should be.

He holds your visage in his mind's eye, feels the tether between your hearts shorten with each labored step, every shuddering breath.

no wine and no song can soothe me, i'm pierced by the arrows of pain i'll lay on the grass by the mountin and summon the wind and the rain

One day, Kakashi knows, he will find you again. He will wrap you in his arms, press his mouth to yours. And the two of you will face whatever darkness that lies ahead together. He will take up his father's sword to protect you.

He will thank you for giving him the courage to undertake a journey he never thought he would be strong enough to endure.

For now, as the sun finally wins against the lingering clouds, Kakashi lies down in a field of sweet summer grass. He inhales slowly as he closes his eyes. Sleep finds him this time, and his dreams are filled with you.

[milkydough]

Sketches and Kisses

[icewindandboringhorror]

this is not the exact one I watched but I saw one of these "dish scape" things at someone's house who actually has TV (like they pay for dish/cable instead of just watching stuff online) and I think they're meant to be relaxing atmospheric stuff that you mostly ignore, but I sat there for 35 minutes watching absolutely engrossed.. further proof that I genuinely think my brain is incapable of experiencing boredom lol..

[confused-wanderer]

Sometimes when Dicks just too tired to deal with the batfam’s shit he starts encouraging them.

================================

Surrounded by gang members and caught in the crossfire between two gangs

Jason *pulling out a gun* : I’m gonna fucking obliterate all of them

Nightwing: Go right ahead

Jason: .. you serious? I’m not playing Dick I WILL shoot every single one of them in the head

Nightwing: sure.

Jason:

Nightwing: What you want me to start? Okay.

Jason: .. Dick why the fuck do you have a gun? DICK STOP LOADING THE GUN-

================================

At a stakeout waiting for the proof before intervening

Tim: Why can’t we just force a confession instead of waiting for him to crack?

Stephanie: Ooo or threaten him with blackmail so bad he starts crying!

Duke: Guys *eyes point to Dick sitting in a corner*

Stephanie: Right.. party pooper

Nightwing:

Nightwing: Okay got it.

*heads out*

Duke: No Dick wait! We were joking!

Stephanie: drama queen just needs a minute sunshine- wait is that him approaching the target?

Tim *who’s seen this happen before* *panicking knowing what’s gonna go down* : OH SHIT ABORT-

================================

Being stuck with a very annoying henchmen who won’t stop talking

Damian: .. Can we simply shut him up?

Nightwing: whatever you wanna do

Damian *narrows eyes*: I can’t ruin my katanna for this

Nightwing: *hands him knife*

Damian:

Nightwing: And remember, the most effective place to silence someone without causing them excruciating pain and also temporarily depriving them of air is right here *points to a small area on the neck*

Damian: ..

Nightwing: .? Go on?

Damian *putting it away* : .. no..

================================

It works a 1000 times more effectively just because either all of them are bluffing or they’re scared Dick’s not.

[ohwowimlonley]

ohhhh free use with poly!marauders would be something like the boys making it hard for reader to do watch a movie because they keep using her holes and passing her around. imagine the boys sitting in one couch and the reader is seated in remus' dick, waiting for him to cum until she is passed to the other boys 😵‍💫

Changed this a tiny bit to fit a bit better but here :) (btw its roommates!marauders)

Cw for free use/advanced consent

-

You’re alone in your room, curled up in the corner of your bed, blanket covering your thighs as you finally start watching you’re favourite movie. It’s the middle of the day, so you’re the only one at home while the boys are out at work. See, you and your roommates had come to an agreement; they would go out to work and pay the rent and bills and buy groceries (and occasionally gifts for you), allowing you to spend your days as you please. In return, they ask for only one thing: your advanced consent.

Now, let’s not get silly here, you can always tell the boys no at any time, and they constantly remind you of that fact. All the agreement means is that they don’t have to ask you, and sometimes they pull you away from what you’re doing when they really need you. There are also a few rules in place. For example, you shouldn’t wear panties around the house (that is, excluding extenuating circumstances), and you shouldn’t touch yourself before asking for their help first.

Just as the plot starts to get good, your bedroom door creeks open. You jump, not expecting anyone to be home for at least and hour and a half, but relax when you see it’s only Remus. Once he determines you’re not in the middle of something vital, he pushes the rest of the way into your room. He doesn’t say a word to you just yet, just pulls his tshirt over his head and works on unzipping his jeans, pulling out his cock from his boxers and tugging on it.

“Rem! You’re home early,” you grin up at him, not bothering to ask him why, it doesn’t matter so long as he’s home. He makes a noncommital ‘hmph’ sound as he clambers up next to you, grasping at your him and turning you onto your stomach, letting your shirt rise up and expose your pussy to the room, still puffy from James using it this morning.

“Shush,” he grunts, but he doesn’t really mean it. He just wants to get inside you as quickly as he can, “boys’ll be home soon, wanna have you first,”

You go to respond, but Remus interrupts your train of thought by letting a fat glob of spit fall from his lips onto the folds of your pussy and follows it with scraping his fingers through the stickiness. He wastes no time at all before slipping his cock into you, not going slow like he usually does to let you get used to his size.

You whine loudly at the burn his cock leaves you with, and while he doesn’t slow down he does set a soothing hand on the small of your back and bends over yiu to press a kiss to the bcak of your neck as he starts up his fast pace. It doesn’t take long for you to get used to the stretch, and you let your mouth drop open in a long, continuous moan.

You lose yourself in the sensations, almost forgetting about the movie still playing in the background as your roommate manhandles you all over your bed, using his full strength to let out his frustration on you. Remus hears the soft click of the front door opening, but you don’t, so you let out a confused whine when he pulls out of you.

“Shh, sweetheart,” he soothes, seating himself at the head of your bed and pulling you over his thighs, slipping himself back into you, “boys’re home, gotta make sure they don’t take my girl, huh?”

You don’t respond. You can’t, what with Remus slipping his fingers against your poor, aching clit. The door to your room is already wide open, so James and Sirius can see the two of you as soon as they get to the upstairs landing. James clears his throat and you whip your head around to see your two other roommates standing side by side, watching you take Remus’ cock. You make eye contact with Sirius, and he rolls his eyes playfully.

“Told you he’d get home first,” he jabs his elbow into James’ rib before taking his hand and sitting on the end of your bed with the other boy in tow.

“Your fault really, Pads,” he points out, then smiles up at you, shrugging his shoulders, “the boys were arguing this morning about who got to have you first when we got home,”

“I was gonna share with Jamesie here, but Moony’s a stinkin cheater,” the boy in question doesn’t pay them any attention, just renews his grip on your hips and brings them down to meet his own thrusts.

“Rem!” You protest, turning back towards him and putting your palms on his chest to keep your balance. You can feel him throbbing inside you, a telltale sign that he’s close, and thank goodness for that because you’re getting there too, and on days where they pass you back and forth like this, it’s best if you cum as little as possible in the beginning.

“Who’s it gonna be next, love?” James is always more careful with you, his voice always questioning, never demanding. This by no means indicates that he isn’t just as desperate as you. In fact, on days where it’s all three boys, theres never a time where he isn’t practically forcing his cock into you.

There’s no opportunity for you to even try to answer his question, because Remus is anchoring you to him and spurting his cum deep inside you.

Sirius goes to tug you from Remus’ lap, but he locks his arms around your back and prevents you from moving even an inch further away from him. Sirius and James let out grumbles of displeasure.

“Rem, honey, share,” you remind him. When he eventually lets you go, James gets to you first, “can I face this way? I wanna watch my movie,”

All three boys chuckle amoungst themselves, and silently vow to make it as difficult as possible for you to watch your movie.

[gremlingottoosilly]

Sleepy!reader X Slasher!Konig

You literally slept through the massacre. Konig can appreciate that. Maybe it's fresh forest air, maybe it's just your general sleepiness - but you didn't wake up even as your friends were screaming and fighting, and you didn't wake up when he was dragging you to his house. For some reason, your sleepy face was too adorable to him to just toss you away into the basement. For some reason, your lack of fighting spirit and desire to keep sleeping even through bloodshed, made him want to keep you. He has a need for some soft, sleepy pet - and you can be his little housecat. Life with Konig is surprisingly nice. You have a heavy collar on your neck, of course, and your legs are bound by a rather short chain and handcuffs, so you can't walk as fast as you want to - but otherwise, he even allows you to go outside. Taking naps on the fresh grass and allowing your murder boyfriend to drag you home afterward - he just wants you to sleep in a nice environment instead of the cold ground. Sometimes, he allows you to sleep outside - if the weather is nice, he would just clip your leash to the metallic post in front of his house and throw a blanket over your sleepy head. The forest is too deep to care about your screams, and you're too sleepy to even try to scream. He usually drops you off to sit on a small mattress in the corner of the basement while he is taking care of other victims. Sometimes, he would make. them be quiet so that they would to make you suffer just a tiny bit and deprive you of the sweet sleep you craved so much. Makes you sit in the corner like a good girl and watch fates of those who were not as lucky as you are - despite your screams and begs of him to stop. God, you're fucking adorable - he has to have you. Pushing your legs apart as you're too sleepy to resist and listening to your choked moans as he fucks you right on that thin mattress in the basement. He is a merciful boyfriend and allows you to softly sob and moan into the pillow he brought for you - and he will clean you up after, maybe even taking you upstairs and getting in bed with you for a few minutes until you're fast asleep after a good fuck. Life is good when you're his victim - at least he finally allows you to have a girl nap for 12 hours like you always wanted to.

[nerdpoe]

Kon was visiting small town and trying to take a little bit of a breather.

Sometimes things got to be a little too much. For instance, he recently found out that due to some weird niche law, he wasn't a person. He was property.

So even if he ever got tired of essentially being owned by CADMUS, it was them or some government branch called the GIW.

And no one knew anything about the GIW.

So even if he wasn't really with CADMUS anymore, he would never be free of them. Which was. Not great.

So he was just. Taking a small breather.

Sitting on a curb, eating some burgers, and just vibing.

Then someone grabbed both of his shoulders in a death grip.

"Dude, what-?"

"-I'm sorry, but I need you to stay still or I'm gonna get got." A panicked teen voice hissed.

Kon turned his head; there was a scrawny teen with unnaturally clear blue eyes, black hair, and a white knuckled grip on Kon's shoulders as he desperately tried to...keep his feet on the ground?

Then a van came tearing around the corner, with the letters GIW stamped across it. The men that left it were wearing white suits, and were clearly keeping an eye on the terrified kid trying to pretend like he wasn't about to float out of some sort of fear response.

Oh.

Oh, this was another clone. One without the protection of CADMUS or Kal.

Yeah, no.

He's got the kid in his arms and was flying over the mid-sized city in an instant, right before pivoting and retreating to Metropolis.

He needed Kal for this. The man was over his thing about clones, and Kon couldn't face the American Government alone.

[triptuckers]

dawn - percy jackson

Request: nope Pairing:  percy jackson x child of apollo!reader Summary:  percy wakes early because of a nightmare and you're not next to him Warnings:  swearing, mentions of nightmares, percy being scared :( Word count:  900 A/N: SHIFTING INTO PERCY JACKSON MODE AGAIN !!! I cannot wait for the show !!! also this is based on a head canon I saw once and now it's my favorite, enjoy!

percy hears you scream again. he needs to find you now.

he's been running for too long now, you've been screaming for too long. he could tell from your screams you had gone from scared to absolutely terrified.

and he knows you've been through as much as he has. it took a lot to make you scared. and something has made you terrified.

percy runs around the corner, gripping his sword tight. up ahead he can see a shadow. that must be you.

he takes off running again but as he gets closer to the shadow, it's not you. it's someone - or something - that is holding two very long, very sharp swords.

percy turns around and bolts through a door. you scream again. and again. he can't get to you. gods, he's going to lose you.

with a start, percy's eyes fly open.

he's breathing heavily and his hands are gripping the bedsheets. percy's chest rises and falls rapidly as he tries to calm himself. he reaches out to you, but you're not next to him.

what if it wasn't a nightmare? fuck.

he pushes himself up with one elbow and notices the door to his cabin is slightly open. he can see you sitting just outside.

percy closes his eyes and lets himself fall back onto his pillow. he frowns when they're damp. great, he was sweating. that means it was a really bad one.

'shit.' he sighs, dragging a hand over his face. there's no way he's getting any sleep now. at least not with the adrenaline still coursing through his veins.

he can tell it's very early in the morning. the sun is starting to rise, but it's still pretty dark outside. percy looks over to you again and notices a mug in your hands, steam rising from it.

after the nightmare he had, he just needs you close. so he gets up and puts on a sweater and boots before joining you outside.

you look up when you hear footsteps on the wooden floor.

'hi. did I wake you?' you say, reaching for percy and pulling him down to squeeze into the chair next to you, careful not to spill your drink.

'no.' his answer is short.

'nightmare?' you ask, noticing the collar of his shirt that sticks to his sweaty neck.

'yeah.' he moves to get closer to you, needing to be near you.

'want to talk about it?' you say, lazily running your fingers through his hair near the back of his neck.

percy sighs softly. 'lately it's the same one.' he says. 'you're somewhere, I don't know where, I can't see you. but I can hear you. you're screaming for help, for me to come get you out of wherever you are. but there's this big guy chasing me and I can never get to you in time.'

he squeezes his eyes shut, trying to drown the image out.

'it's okay.' you say. 'I'm here now.'

'I know you are. you think I can ask any of the gods if they can stop the nightmares?'

you chuckle softly. 'it's worth a shot.'

'hey, wait. why weren't you next to me when I woke up?' he says, remembering the moment the nightmare shook him awake.

he turns slightly so he can look you in the eye, brows slightly furrowed. 'do you still have nightmares?'

'sometimes.'

'but they didn't wake you tonight?'

'no.'

'wait, so you willingly got up at the ass crack of dawn?'

you smile. 'also no.'

'you're usually up early, though. even on quests when you're exhausted but we need to go on, you're always the first one awake. perks of being apollo's kid?'

this time you laugh softly. 'no, more like downside of being his kid.'

percy frowns again. 'what are you talking about?"

'well, everyone wakes at dawn. look, will's awake as well.' you say, pointing to your cabin in the distance. 'michael is just coming back from getting his coffee. I saw lee as well.'

percy still looks confused. you're tempted to give him some weird reason and have him figure out I fit's real or not. but he might not even believe the truth.

'you know how apollo uses his chariot to ride across the sky to give us the sunrise, right?' you say.

'yeah, you told me about that.' says percy.

'well, when he does that he blasts heavy metal at a frequency only apollo kids can hear. so we can see him in the sky in all his glory.'

'seriously?'

'his words, not mine.'

percy laughs. 'that does sound like apollo, yes.'

'it's nice, tough. waking up before everyone else does. especially the younger kids.'

'hey, next time, wake me up okay?'

'I prefer to let you sleep. that's why I always get up quietly.'

'I know, and I appreciate it. but this is nice, just us.'

'us and all of my cabin.'

'well, yeah, but you're the only apollo kid sleeping in my cabin.' says percy, nudging your shoulder an smiling.

'and it better stay that way.' you say, smiling as well. 'I call dips on the shower.'

you lean in to kiss his cheek and get up, letting percy enjoy the rest of the sunrise on his own.

A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rulesHere’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit

[k-hotchoisan]

body language

<yunho x fem!reader>

well, pining after your brother’s fucking attractive best friend isn’t a sin if he doesn’t know right? nobody has to know.

nobody has to know that you're lodged in his fantasies when the nights deepen.

nobody has to know what happens when you're forced to share a room with Yunho.

Genre/Warnings: smut, big dick! X Perverted! Yunho, unprotected sex, low key corruption kink, mutual pining, cream pies, fingering, orgasms, overstimulation, oh no they are forced to share a room!, sexual tension, dirty talk

Taglist: @bro-atz @diamond-3 @mcarebearsstuff @choisansplushie @voicesinmyhead-rc @pre1ttyies @hwallazia @songmingisthighs @yeosangiess @sanhwajjong @interweab @mylovelymito @softwsan @yourlocaljonghoe @itza-meee

🩷 back to staying perverted

A/N: send me to jail for being so inactive TT I know life happens and I shouldn't apologise for going mia for a bit but I still feel so bad! Nonetheless, please continue giving my works as much love as you all always do, and that ya'll are my source of motivation. Thank you for waiting ❤️

Undoubtedly, it’s either your brother has good taste in making friends, or you just have interesting taste in men, because out of all men you had a crush on, it had to be the one closest to your brother—Jeong Yunho. Something about him made your heart flutter uncontrollably. Maybe it was the way he would lean in towards you when he wanted to whisper something in your ear, keeping your brother an arm’s length while his voice tickled perfectly as it reverberates in your brain. Maybe it was the way he would hold your stare for a couple of seconds before his pretty smiles spreads across his lips, as if he was keeping a secret that he wants to tell you. Maybe it was the way he would bump his arm against yours when he wants to ally with you to piss your brother off. 

Whatever it was, you couldn’t deny that the feelings you had for him were growing exponentially. How you managed to keep said feelings in bay was a mystery. You could attribute it to knowing Yunho for as long as you did. Maybe he treated everyone nice and politely like that. It was hard not to keep your hopes up sometimes and it really made you frustrated. 

“A chalet?” You repeat. “What’s the occasion?” 

“Just a weekend out”, your brother replies. “A couple of friends will be coming. You know them, including Yunho.”

“Are you going?” Yunho suddenly asks. 

You break eye contact with Yunho, going back to your phone. “No. I’m going on a date.”

Yunho’s eyes widen. There is a flash of panic that flickers in his eyes. His words spill out of him before he realises it. 

“With who? How come I didn’t know?” 

You cast a confused glance at him. “Why would you need to know?”

That was when Yunho realises, and he simmers down, going back to hiding behind his phone screen. He bites his tongue, hoping you nor your brother ha caught on. But thankfully, no one else questions him. In fact, your brother doubles down.

“Yeah, you didn’t tell me?” Your brother echos. 

“As if you’re interested in my love life”, you playfully retort, rolling your eyes before you disappear into your room, before Yunho starts to hear your heartbeat right in your ears again. 

Yunho stares blankly at his phone, still processing that you’ll be going on a date. Something sits uncomfortably in the pit of his stomach. He’s running his brain, thinking of a million ways to make you cancel the date, half of it under the pretence of your brother. How could he do it without making it obvious? 

“And why would I cancel my date, Jeong Yunho?” You ask, your arms crossed. For some reason, your brother and Yunho were suddenly way too interested in your date. Especially Yunho. He would not get off your back about it. 

“It’s dangerous? Who knows he might be a serial killer!” He was really dramatic about too, might you add. 

You scoff, and an amused smile tugs the corner of your lips, as your hand reaches out to pat his cheek. “I’ll be fine, Yun. You’re on my speed dial if anything happens okay?” 

For a moment, you feel his gaze piercing right into you, as if time didn’t exist—the both of you caught in between each other’s gazes, Yunho looking like he wants to say something, but he stops himself. You quickly break the eye contact, remembering that he’s your brother’s best friend, and that Yunho is just being as worried as your brother. Nothing more than that. Yunho wants to hold the gaze longer. He almost wants to break the imaginary boundaries then both of you set, but he snaps into to reality when he watches you leave, his voice trapped in his throat. 

Fuck. Looks like he’s the one losing now. 

It doesn’t help that during that night, you slip into his dreams, and instead of you leaving, he has your face in his hands, and your lips are on his. He feels you in your entirety, and you feel so fucking good pressed against him. Yunho wants so badly to mark every part of you, to remind you he could do so much better than whoever you’re supposedly going out with. He could kiss you better, fuck you better. Then it switches—to you in front of him, your ass bouncing off his cock, loud smacks echoing from the walls as he sinks into your pussy with a broken sigh.

That’s when he fucking jolts awake, warm fluids streaming down his thighs, as he swallows an imaginary mass in his throat because what the fuck just happened? He stares blankly at the white ceiling of his room, mind as blank. 

How fucked is he?

Yunho reaches to the doorstep of the chalet, almost close to midnight. Dance practice had bleed past the time, later than he thought. He greets his friends at the barbecue pit, still grilling chicken and seafood, stealing a stick and getting playfully hit before he enters the chalet itself. 

Your brother sat there, comfortable with his girlfriend’s legs crossed over his lap as they had joycons in their hands, playing some kind of co-op game together. His friend turns to him, before his eye dart back to the screen once he acknowledges Yunho, much too engrossed with the level he and his girlfriend was at. 

“Your room’s to the left of the stairs. I hung your lanyard there”, your brother says, before his attention goes right back to the game. For a spilt second, he suddenly remembers that he wanted to tell Yunho something, something important, but when his girlfriend squeals at clearing the level, the thought is completely erased from his memory.

Yunho climbs up the stairs, pushes the door open, and completely stops in his tracks as his gaze locks with yours. You’re seated on the bed, relaxed and on your phone until the door suddenly pushes open, and Yunho stands there, looking as bewildered as you. 

There is a long moment of silence between the both of you. 

“Can I help you, Yunho?” You break it. 

“No…isn’t this my room?” Yunho clarifies. You glance around and shrug. 

Yunho drops his bag, his heart beating loudly in his chest. 

His eyebrows furrow, confusion sprawled across his face. 

“Hold on. Weren’t you suppose to be on a date?” 

You shrug again. “Yeah. It ended early. I thought of finding my brother and he asked me to use this room since it was vacant. I supposed he forgot to tell you? I could leave if-“

“N-no. You can stay, since you’re already here”, Yunho cuts you off. No fucking way is he wasting this chance. Somehow the thought of you within the same, close proximity is making his head dizzy. “You’re okay with sharing the bed? I can sleep downstairs.”

Your face starts to heat up. As much as it was the elephant in the room, for Yunho to bring up so straightforwardly like that was making your mind wander a little too close to the sun. 

You force a small smile. “It’s fine. It’s not like we haven’t shared a bed before.” Well, not a lie, the only thing was that the both of you were blacked out drunk when it happened that one time. 

Yunho’s signature smile appears. He looks comforted, at least. “Right. Then I’ll use the bathroom to wash up.” He grabs a spare towel on the rack, then walks back to dig for his clothes in his duffle before he disappears into the bathroom, leaving you with your messy thoughts. Your hand is over your heart, and you feel it beating a little too wildly. 

Nothing’s gonna happen. Two people of the opposite sex can share a bed just fine, is what you tell yourself. Yeah, that would have been the case, if the opposite gender wasn’t Jeon Yunho. 

Fifteen minutes felt like fifteen years in all honesty. The anxiety wouldn’t simmer down, so you end up burying yourself underneath the cold sheets, hoping that you’d end up falling asleep. 

And by some miracle, you did. That is, until you feel the mattress weigh down, and shuffling on the sheets, then something bumping against your leg. You stir slightly from the disruption.

“Sorry. The bed’s a little…cramped”, you hear Yunho’s voice tickling your ears as his legs press against yours. 

You stay silent, the only things that you hear are the whirling of the air conditioning and the sound of your heart about to fucking burst from your rib cage. 

“It’s fine”, you finally reply, your body completely still, unsure how actually close the male is against you, only his legs pressed up against the back of your knees and his arms are barely touching your back as a gauge. Well, you weren’t in the mood to find out. The myriad amount of assurances you repeat to yourself that he’s just a friend, that he’s just Jeon Yunho, does nothing to comfort you to say the least. 

You hear his voice ring a little to close to your ears again. “How was your date?”

You don’t want to answer, your eyes are focused onto the darkness of the door in front of you. You fear that he might hear your thoughts if you speak, even though that’s literally impossible. 

“It was fine”, you curtly reply, squeezing the spare pillow in your arms. 

“What did you think of him?” 

“I think he’s okay. He’s quite a decent guy. Then again, it’s just the first date”.

The mattress shifts suddenly and you freeze when you feel him inch even closer to you. You have no clue what expression he’s making but from the way he suddenly shifts rather dramatically, you would assume that he seemed shocked? 

Oh, you were definitely about to find out. 

“You’re planning to see him again?” He’s closer now. You feel his chest almost pressing against your spine. You feel his gaze piercing daggers into the back of your head. You feel his agitation. But over what?

“I haven’t decided on that yet”, you reply. But you cut him before he says anything, “but what’s it to you? You usually don’t care about the things I do. Let alone my dates.”

This time, it’s Yunho’s turn to fall silent. The weight of the mattress beneath you shifts once more it stills. For a moment, you assume that he’d shifted away from you, and maybe he’d let the matter die off.

“Who said I didn’t?”

Now he’s completely pressing his body against you—you feel his lips just a hair’s length from the back of your neck, his chest completely flat against your back. 

His crotch right against your ass. 

“Yunho-“, you try turning to face him before the both of your start making any mistakes, but his hand presses your waist down, halting any movements you were about to make. Heat is flushing your cheeks.

“I’ll stop if you don’t want to, and I’ll turn away, and sleep downstairs. I won’t force you if you don’t want to.”

Shit, shit, shit. The more words Yunho speak, the more they aren’t registering in your damn head. His voice is melting in your ears, low and dangerous. The consequences that once rang like alarm bells in your head slowly grow muted, and now it’s just your carnal desire to let Yunho do whatever he wanted to you.

“I’m not doing this without your consent, my dear”, he reminds , and his hand is slowly trailing off your body. 

All the repercussions, completely wiped off when your feelings that you once tried to fucking hard to suppress behind to bubble up to the surface, and for Yunho to just summon them so easily when he says it so gently and with such  temptation.

But you should still probably stop this-

From the way you’re staying quiet, Yunho is ready to just cut his advances. After all, he’s not interested in making you feel uncomfortable, as much as he wants to just ruin you all for himself. He keeps his breathing light, but his heart is still beating loudly in his chest, bracing himself for the rejection, his hand gradually lifting from your waist, very much reluctantly-

Until he feels your hand cup his. 

“I wanna feel you, Yunho”, you answer him, loud enough for him to hear, even though it was only the two of you within the confines of the room. 

Yunho feels like he’s not close enough to you, even though the both of you are squeezed together, and his erection is evident—pressing shamelessly against the curve of your ass. It’s driving up the wall. 

Another thing he doesn’t expect is the way your fingers curl around his wrist, and you bring him to your braless tits, and he short-circuits when his fingers press against your hard nipples. You curse softly when he rolls them gently against his fingertips, and you lean back against his chest. Yunho takes the chance to kiss your neck down to your shoulders, making you melt all over again. 

But he doesn’t want to stay there for long. His cock is just throbbing and it’s overtaking his rationale. 

You always offhandedly complimented that Yunho had such long, slender and pretty fingers, and that he made mundane actions—writing, typing—look so attractive.

And now, his fingers are prying your legs to spread open for him.

His fingers dip into the wetness of your soaked folds, and his mind almost completely blanks out for the second time at the way you’re drenched for him. 

“Fuck. All of this for me?” He asks rhetorically, as he easily sinks two fingers in, hearing you choke from how his fingers are filling you up so well. The tip of his fingertips press against a spongy spot, and your head tilts back, face so flushed from the pleasure when he begins curl his fingers while in you and while he fucks your wet cunt. 

He’s not letting you form any coherent thoughts in your head, not while he’s finger fucking the thoughts right out your poor brain.

“You’re so fucking soft. Shit. I really want to fuck you so fucking bad”, he grunts in your ear, his hips grinding against your ass like a natural instinct to. 

“Your cock”, you mutter, struggling to keep your eyes open and mind clear. “Fuck. Need you to fuck me so good.”

Yunho inhales the scent of your hair wash as he peppers bites and kisses down the nape of your neck, smiling when he feels goosebumps spread across your skin.

He’s so tempted. But not yet. He desperate—desperate to see you fucking fall apart just with his fingers.

So he pulls his soaked fingers out, and for a moment, you whine at how empty your cunt feels, just ready to fucking beg him to fuck you with his fingers, his cock, whatever. 

He sits up, pushing the thick and heavy blankets aside, tugging your wet bottoms and panties off, giving himself a mental reminder to pocket your panties when he’s done with you. 

You’re spread open and perfectly wide for him to admire and drool over. By now, his eyes are pretty much adjusted the darkness, and the both of you are lazy to switch on the nightlight, so he’s definitely able to see your pussy in full view.

“Y-yu-“, your words completely cut off when he plunges two fingers right into your pussy again, filling you up completely. And this time, his other hand is on your clit, fingers rubbing, sending sparks flying beneath your eyelids. 

The pleasure makes you buck your hips, and it builds so dangerously quick in your abdomen. The sounds of your pussy growing so fucking wet only encourages Yunho to pick up the pace, catching a rhythm of fucking and rubbing your clit so perfectly that you realise the feeling is growing way too funny. 

“Y-Yunho-“ you try again. “Oh god. Feels weird.” Nonetheless, you don’t say it without your eyes rolling back and your abdomen flexing. 

“That’s it. Let it go for me, baby. It’ll feel so fucking good.”

Oh fuck. You don’t even register it before it happens—it totally washes over you, and you’re just helplessly submitting to how fucking good this feels as you squirt all over Yunho, your mind swimming in the depths of ecstasy, your moans drowned when Yunho seals your lips shut with his, greedy to just keep them all to himself, and well, also not trying to wake the whole chalet up. 

When Yunho pulls back and sees how flushed spent your face looks, he can’t help but sink deeper into his feelings for you. He goes in for another kiss, this time with your mind slowly clearing from the mind-blowing orgasm. Your arms wrap around his neck instantly, pulling him as close as you could, soft moans in between kisses only making him impossibly harder than he already was. 

He shifts to lie down on the bed with you again, this time the both of you facing each other. He tugs the hem of your shirt and lugs it over your head, before lowering himself slightly to face your chest. You don’t know how but his pants are somehow kicked off, somewhere on the bed, and he’s bare and so fucking hard when he presses his cock on your pussy. 

“Lift your leg for me, babe”, he says, palm sliding on the underside of your thigh as he feels you spread your legs open for him once more. 

Yunho rubs his cockhead along your wet fucking folds, before he pushes himself in, a whimper leaving his lips as he bites on your shoulder to stop any loud noises from slipping past his lips. 

He pushes himself in even more, and your arms are around his neck once more, light red imprints from your fingernails dig into his skin.

“Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Feels like fucking heaven. So fucking tight and soft”, he mutters, eyes so glazed, and arms so tight around you when he finally buries himself into the hilt. 

Your mind is complete mush by then—combined with Yunho’s cock that’s stuffed in you and the scent of his hair wash, you swear you were gonna cum for the second time. You knew he probably packed something, but holy fucking shit, you just never thought it would fill you up this fucking good. The rest of your senses slowly start to dull, the feeling of Yunho’s cock almost taking them  all away. 

“Shit. You’re fucking squeezing me-fuck!-here,” Yunho says, but it comes off as a broken moan. His head is buried into the crook of your neck, and you hear him trying to steady his breath through a slew of curses. 

“You wanna move now?” You ask, your fingers combing through his messy locks. Yunho thinks he might have some sort of hair combing fetish with you now. 

“Fuck, yes, please,” is all he replies before he pulls out slightly, then thrusting right back in, projecting fucking stars into your eyelids when he fills you up again and again. 

You press your head against the pillow, eyes shut from the pleasure. When you find the strength to open them, Yunho’s glazed out expression is what comes into view. He’s looking at you like you’re his fucking treasure. 

“Does it feel good? You feel so fucking amazing, y/n.”

“You can’t be asking me that when you’re fucking the thoughts right out of me”, and you squeal when he thrusts into you once more, filling you up to the brim.

“Even better. So my cock will be only the cock you know, right?” He smiles, fighting the urge to roll his eyes when your walls clench around him again.

And when you don’t answer, his hand slithers to your neck, and he squeezes, making you gasp. 

“Answer me, pretty.”

“Yes, fuck yes. Don’t need anyone else’s when you’re fucking me so good”, you cry, relishing in the way he’s gradually cutting off your oxygen supply. 

His thrusts grow harder and faster, his hands slowly letting go of your throat.

“That’s my good girl.”

And that makes your cunt flutter and pulsate uncontrollably for the second time, only now it’s on his cock this time. 

“F-fuck. Oh, that’s it. That’s a good fucking girl, cumming all over my cock like that”, his voice ups a pitch when you fall apart again. “I’m gonna cum. Make sure you’re full and dripping when I’m fucking done with you.”

And when he does, he leaves a whole garden of bites on your chest and shoulders on top of filling your pussy up with his thick and warm cum. You never thought his face would get anymore attractive, but when he cums? You could get addicted to pulling that expression out of him, that’s for sure. 

The both of you are panting as your highs wear off, hands still not off each other despite the shared warmth. He’s the first to let go, and you’re about to say something until he turns you around, and it’s then when his cock starts to harden in you. Your heart is beating rapidly again when his cock is filling you up once more, as it slowly displaces his cum that leaks past your sopping hole.

Your hand grabs onto his arm that’s snaking around your waist. 

“W-wait. We need to talk about my broth-“, and he hears you whimper when he pushes himself deeper into you, throbbing in you. The way he’s littering kisses down your neck is sending you into a spiral, and now you’re nothing but weak against him, and his fat cock.

“That can wait to tomorrow, babe. I promised that I’ll make sure you’re full and dripping once I’m fucking done with you right? Well, I’m not done fucking you yet.”