#i don’t know there’s not rly anything to be said or done

[diffenbachiae]

the worst part of anxiety is that it feels bad before you do the thing, while you’re doing the thing, AND after you’re doing the thing, but if you ever stop doing the things it gets WAY WORSE!!!!

[d3arapril]

nsfw modern!ellie headcanons <3

i've been deep in a pit of reddit audios and this is the result. i love ellie. head = empty.

mdni 18+ only!

i will start by saying this - ellie is dirty and a freak.

spits on it, in ur mouth...she also likes it when u spit in her mouth when ur on top

literally the dirtiest fucking mouth!? angels have cried bc of the things she says during sex

whispers 'whose is it?' in your ear whilst she's digging deep into you from behind, hand in your hair to pull your back up to her chest

(doggy is her favourite position btw she told me)

i've briefly said this before but ELLIE WILLIAMS SUCKS TOES! I DON'T CARE WHAT ANYBODY SAYS!!!! your legs will be up on her shoulders and she will have a toe in her mouth. or she’ll start at ur feet, kiss up ur legs until she reaches ur pussy 🍴

speaking of pussy this bitch loves to EAT! “babe can you get me an i’m a munch tshirt?”

anything is an excuse to go down on u. had a successful grocery shop? she’s down there. finally cleaned the bathroom? she’s down there (in said bathroom.. and she is eating it from behind, face against the mirror u know what’s up)

strap queen.... sings trap queen by fetty wap and laughs to herself cos she just thinks of the word strap..she sings it to u often.. u get annoyed often "she's my strap queen...that's what u think of me right babe?" (and abby is a scissor queen...will i elaborate? maybe one day)

she's huge on eye contact, loves to stare you down and make you feel small

as serious as she is she can very often be rly stupid during sex too.. like she will randomly gasp and lean up from ur neck and ur like what?!? and she’s like i just remembered something in savage starlight.. i gotta read that when we’re done and then just carries on fucking u. she forgot to read the comic and fell asleep

growls and groans in ur ear, her voice gets super deep and raspy when ur fucking

“let me fucking hear you” “whose is it baby?” “tell me whose pussy this is” all up in ur ear. Yes Sir 🫡

speaking of sir.. i don’t think ellie rly likes being called anything else besides her name (controversial)

she is a super jealous as we know so only wants to hear her own name coming out of your mouth

speaking of jealous she gets jealous of the strap if u suck it so she doesn’t like u doing that anymore

tell u what she does like tho.. she loves it when u go down on HER. she never asks for it but ur always happy to do it and when u do.. she’s wriggling all over the place, hands constantly switching between being in ur hair, in her own hair and covering her face, squeezing at ur hands.. girl can’t control herself

that’s enough for now i think…i need to go stand in the rain🧍🏼‍♀️

[givemequeen]

the artist; spencer reid x reader

request: Hello! It’s me again. :) I have a concept but I’m unsure about a plot, if that’s okay. Could you maybe write a Spencer x Fem!Quiet reader who likes to draw? And Spencer always sees her doodling on her papers while she’s bored like flowers and eyes and stuff? And sometimes she draws the team while they’re working but one day Spencer sees her drawing him and he confronts her very politely and she’s all flustered and blushing? I don’t know if it’s something you’re comfortable with, I just like to draw and if I worked with the FBI that would definitely be something I would do if I was bored. 😄🫶🏻 Thanks a ton!!! I love your writing.

a/n: i love spencer sm. i rly hope this is what you were looking for! thanks for the request :)

It had all started with some fun doodling; a couple of fun little drawings here and there when things were slow or during long flights. It hadn't been anything serious. Then, you attempted drawing landscapes; mountains, buildings, anything. Not just silly doodles.

Drawing helped you pass time, you enjoyed it and, if you said so yourself, you were quite good at it. Drawing people had always scared you, you weren't sure if you could get it right so you started with strangers, people on the bus or tram, in long queues, at cafes.

On one particularly long flight to Seattle you had drawn Hotch. His hard stare and furrowed brows as he read over a case made him easy to draw. Then it was Garcia, her bright smile brought you comfort. Then Rossi and JJ and Morgan.

And finally, Spencer, the cutest member. You could definitely see why Morgan called him pretty boy. His soft lips and hair beautifully juxtaposed his sharp jawline and slim fingers.

He was you're favourite to draw. You had around half a dozen drawings of the team by now; some individual, some in groups. But, your best drawings where those you had done on Spencer.

"Wow. You're really good." Spencer voice made you jump, nearly spilling your coffee over your drawing.

He had just gone to the jet's bathroom - you had been careful to hide your work as he passed by you.

"Spence!" you yelped, moving to clean up. "You scared me." you pressed your sketchpad against your chest, hiding your drawing from sight.

"May I see?" he leaned over and stretched out his hand - that gorgeous, slender hand of his. The one you had a couple drawing dedicated to in the very sketchpad he was reaching towards.

"No!" you said, a little too quickly. "I- erm-"

"Oh, that's okay, sorry for asking." he straightened up. "I just... well I thought that was a really good drawing. You made me look quite nice." his voice was soft, no one else could hear you.

Apart from the looks from that initial scream, no one was paying any attention to you two, everyone too immersed in their own thing to pay attention. You looked around, confirming no one was watching, and moved over in your seat.

"Sit." you said, patting the space beside you.

Spencer sat down, his thigh warm against yours, and smiled at you.

"Here." you offered him your sketchpad and hid your face in your hands, too ashamed to watch his reaction.

He opened the first page and oohed. You peaked between your fingers, wondering what he was looking at. It was your very first doodles. He pointed out some and smiled; his revolver, his favourite book, Morgan's headphones, Garcia's pens.

"I really like these." he said.

"Thanks." you mumbled.

He turned the pages, his fingers feeling the bumps and ridges of the drawing. He was particularly fond of the one you did of Vegas' skyline.

"That's amazing." he said, more to himself than to you.

You pulled away one of your hands and leaned over to him. His scent was overpowering in the best way possible; coffee, old books, and that new cologne he had been trying out.

He finally got to the one you made of Hotch. Spencer laughed out loud, looking up to his boss and laughing even more.

"Identical! Same expression." he whispered in between laughs.

"Thank you." you said, a smile appearing on your face.

"Oh and Garcia..." he laughed. "The same smile..."

He passed the pages - the first drawing you had done of Morgan made him laugh again. It had been of him flirting with Garcia; you had nailed his wicked grin.

Finally, he flipped the paged onto his section of the book. The first one you had done of him he had been reading a book, his fingers pressed against the pages and he read page after page.

"Oh wow." he whispered. "That's... it's amazing. You're such an artist. How did you manage it?" he turned to look at you.

"Oh, well, I dunno." you bit the inside of your cheek. He wasn't mad you had drawn him without permission or something? "You like it?" you asked.

"Of course! They're amazing." he reached out to squeeze your hand. "You're amazing. I'm really impressed."

You stared at your joined hands and your heart skipped a beat. "Thanks." you stuttured.

Spencer let go of your hand and went back to passing the pages. The next drawing, he had been fast asleep, an open book resting against his chest. He laughed at that one too, making some comment about how ridiculous he looked.

"Well, I thought you looked cute." you whispered, scared he might actually hear you.

"Yeah?" he said, looking over at you.

"Yeah." you said.

Spencer was blushing. He quickly looked away and flitted through the rest of the pages. He was especially impressed by the one of his hands ("wow, I had no idea they looked so..." "beautiful?" "creepy").

He closed the book gently and handed it over to you.

"I'd love to get a copy of some of those, if you don't mind." he was so close to you, you were afraid he could hear your heartbeat.

"Yes- no- I mean, I don't mind. I'll send you the original." you were having trouble trying not to stare at his lips for too long.

"You'd do that?" Spencer asked.

"Of course, since you were such a good subject." you laughed and stared into his soft eyes.

"I'd love to be an actual subject for you one day, since you're so good at it." he moved to stand up and you nearly whined as his warmth left you. "If you ever need a subject, let me know." he flashed you that sweet smile of his and made his way back to his seat.

You couldn't believe what had just happened. It took everything in you not to squeal and dance around like a teenage girl. You pressed your sketchpad against your chest and buried yourself deep into your seat, already thinking of all the poses you could get Spencer into.

[caitlinbueckers]

ok Ik you said Pazzi fic in studio but will never get the idea of Paige calling azzi mamas out of my head so just felt like I needed to share an idea for a blurb or to include in anything you write PAIGE CALLINF AZZI MAMAS

anon ur a genius but i am simply a fool who took this prompt and then ran with it and turned it into a random oneshot soooooo i apologize for the minimal use of ‘mamas’ but hope u like it anyway and will implement that in all my writing deadass

pet names.

paige bueckers/azzi fudd.

2.8K.

kinda bullshit rambling but a lil more of a structure to follow???

minimal nsfw so 18+ as fuck

Wait guys let me know how u rly feel bcuz im not suuuper happy w this one

at first, it’s a subtle change.

it’s not like paige is ever actually serious enough for her words to be taken to heart or with any ounce of meaning behind it— she’s a fucking idiot, and azzi was more than well aware of her incessant antics, and the fact that she just played too much.

so, of course it surprises her, but she can’t say it really means anything, until it does.

it’s funny to azzi, really, when recently, all of a sudden, paige will get caught up in her usual tangents that she’s started letting these random, little pet names slip from her lips, mouth moving so fast, almost as if she barely meant it, could barely even call it out herself.

it happens usually when they’re tired— or, at least when azzi’s tired, and paige is excited. sweat clinging to the back of azzi’s neck, her curls drawing up and away from the edges of her hairline, skin flushed and hot to the touch when paige is suddenly breezing past her. she’s somehow still in a jog despite the rigorous drills they’d done, oblivious to the redness of her face or the plastered strands of blonde hair against her forehead. she’s at the tail end of a conversation with KK, still grinning like a fool about whatever they must’ve been chattering about, yelling out some type of phrase or joke that only those two could conjur up.

azzi’s right eyebrow is already lifted, somehow already suspicious and unimpressed of her intentions when paige is launching straight into a new conversation, cheeks still pink and teeth on display as she skips backwards to keep her eyes on azzi.

“i think me an’ KK are ‘finna go play 2K when we get back to the dorms— i told her ass she doesn’t stand like, a single chance when I’ve been on my grind, and she don’t believe me, like, baby, you know i’ve been on that shit,” she clicks her tongue, rolls her eyes before she’s smacking azzi’s arm, giving her a sneaky grin, one that signaled whatever she was offering was really gonna be a delight, (it never was), “you should come chill. you don’t gotta play if you don’t want, you can always be my lil’ cheerleader.”

it wasn’t like her high energy, rapid movement behavior was anything unusual, but that little, barely missable word was.

baby. it rolls off her tongue like it’s been waiting around the whole time, lingering beneath the surface, waiting for the moment to strike. she says it with an ease of comfort she can’t necessarily place, and azzi doesn’t necessarily hate it, but it’s there, nonetheless.

it momentarily stunts her, but azzi still finds herself smiling— not from any type of fluster or flush miraculously, but one that she usually gives paige when she’s amused by her, eyes wide and exaggerated as she huffs out a chuckle. “that sounds… boring, honestly.” but, she’s laughing at the gape on paige’s face anywa, “i need to shower, dude, i don’t wanna watch video games.” she scoffs, before she grins at her, only because she knows it’ll piss paige off.

and it does, so, of course the walk out to the parking lot is filled with a whole lot of, ‘oh my god, bro, you’re so lame.’ or, ‘like, azzi, you can have a turn ‘forreal, like just come over for like, deadass a second.’

ultimately, and unsurprisingly enough, paige ends up getting her way. though, she’ll swear it’s only because azzi takes her shower, does some homework and is in the middle of taking out her braids when the word hits her again, and again, and again.

babybabybaby.

she can’t really blame the way she rolls her eyes despite herself. her and paige had been close for fucking ever, so there wasn’t necessarily much between them that was off limits, but it still resonated within her as something azzi couldn’t just brush off. whether that was more damaging than pretending it never happened, she didn’t have a single clue.

all she did know, was that paige bueckers got her way entirely way too much. so much so, that azzi has to let out an audible groan reserved only for paige, before she texts that she’s on her way over.

and yeah, whatever, maybe it wouldn’t matter so much if it was just a one-off, or if maybe their friendship wasn’t so fucking complicated in the first place.

but then, it does matter, because it doesn’t stop happening.

when paige is frustrated at her homework, sitting plainly with her legs at full extension in the study room with aaliyah, ice, and azzi, it leaves her lips in a huff of exasperation, “azzi, babe, this shit really makes no sense, swear.” even if she’s saying it in the voice that clearly states she hasn’t attempted it for nearly long enough to proclaim she doesn’t get it, “az, can you please just come check it out.” azzi can’t tell what’s worse; the fact that paige had said it, or the fact that nobody had even looked surprised that she did.

or when they’d gotten dressed for media day, everyone milling about as they try not to wrinkle their uniforms or crease their concealer, it’s paige (and eventually nika and aaliyah) that whoops and hollers during azzi’s solo pictures, something like, “yeaaaah princess! nation’s best, babyyyyy! work that shit!” followed by a series of whistles that sounded so off pitch it makes azzi snort, rolling her eyes as she purposely avoids the gaze that paige so obviously wants to capture, teetering at the edges of azzi’s peripheral with a grin so wide it threatens to make her blush.

and, she swears she doesn’t, and instead turns back to the photographer with cheeks only a touch pinker than they were previously, “sorry— can we do that again?”

really, the only time she’d ever allowed herself to actually enjoy it, was on the last night at the hotel after a game. it couldn’t have been later than two or three in the morning, paige and azzi having spent the majority of it whispering beneath the covers, anything to not wake up the two other girls asleep in the other double bed.

it’s not too bad, having to share beds— except that, paige is a chronic cuddler and azzi would rather sleep on the shitty futon than be subjected to paige’s unrelenting weight against her back, or her arms slung lazily over her, but it was because of that precise position that azzi could even hear the words when she says it.

“mmmh-,“ she hums tiredly first, speaking mostly out of her ass, like paige always did when got too tired and let herself start rambling “night, pretty girl.”

it’s soft, and sort of raspy— the way paige gets when she’s been screaming all night on the court, and azzi can really only tell by the amount of ibuprofen that she’d downed before bed being somewhat more than her usual, that she’s probably got a headache. it’s a voice she uses when she’s being sincere.

the quiet sentiment, however insignificant to anyone else, replays in her mind. almost like a secret. almost like the closer she keeps it to her chest, the harder it’ll be to lose it.

it makes her whole body warm all over.

her response comes a few beats later, when she’s sure paige has drifted, and nothing but her measured breath is puffing against azzi’s neck, heard only between the two of them.

“night, p.”

but then, suddenly, everything sort of changes. azzi doesn’t know when this part happened— maybe it’s between the time she kisses her at that bar, tipsy and too close, unaware of the camera that set the internet aflame, and now, where it was customary that paige did homework with her, or ate dinner with her or slept over all the time. perhaps, it’s one selective moment in the chaos between that had suddenly transformed paige’s subtle casualty of the pet names, to something more intimate. more for them, rather for anyone else.

or, maybe it was exactly where they knew they’d end up all along.

it’s after a night out, after neither of them had ever really questioned how this had became their routine. that now, it had become something unspoken, an inherent rule that was followed without it needing to be stated. that, when they got too fucked up with the team, and the ubers were being ordered, azzi and paige always went together, that the address would always end up being paige’s dorm, and that azzi would always be curling into purple sheets by the time she sobers up enough to sleep.

but, she’s not sober. she’s drunk, and her face is flushed hot, sticky with the bar atmosphere. “paige, you’re making me too hot.” azzi complains with an impatient lilt to her voice, lifting her right shoulder up to her neck as if to shrug paige off, but the girl is relentless, humming her denial as she slid a hand across azzi’s thigh, grasping it hard enough that her nails dug into the skin there.

“psh, you’re already hot, shut up.” the words are spoken clumsily, lips brushing against the bare skin of azzi’s shoulder with each word, while a sudden surge of annoyance and somehow gratitude courses through azzi for having worn a sleeveless top, “c’mere, mamas, ‘lemme lay on you.”

she’s being whiny, and it only makes azzi roll her eyes before her gaze flickers to the screen of the car, giving her another light elbow prod, only this time, a short, sneaking smile is crossing her face. “paige, ‘forreal, we’re about to be back anyway.”

this, somehow, only fuels her. “i’m wounded,” she complains, before she’s pressing a little smack of a kiss to azzi’s neck, “my girl’s so mean to me, shit.”

my girl.

what the fuck ever.

azzi should’ve demanded an explanation then, but she doesn’t.

in fact, there’s not an explanation waiting for them when they stumble into paige’s room, their hands in a tight grasp, pulling each other in so that they can both fall against the bed, and azzi really shouldn’t have been expecting one. it’s definitely not explained when they’re somehow under the blankets, and paige has an arm, long and lean, wrapped around azzi’s waist to end somewhere between her legs, fingers finding a rhythm that seems to pull the very air from azzi’s lungs.

it’s not what azzi was expecting to happen, and yet somehow they’d fallen into place like it something they’d done a million times. paige had undressed her, after azzi’s complaint of still feeling too hot, and paige— not even a singular bit sober— finds her hands along the bottom of azzi’s top, tugging it over her head before she tosses her an old basketball camp shirt that had been slung across her dresser.

“you gonna sleep in jeans?” is really what had started it, paige’s pointed tone making azzi’s face burn hot, but the smirk on her face never faltered. “you’re so annoying.”

because then, paige has her fingers hooking into azzi’s waistband, eliciting a string of giggles that escape because fuck, she’s ticklish and paige knows. “what? what am i doing?” the blonde is grinning too, snickering under her breath as azzi’s pants are yanked down her hips, kicked from her feet with minimal effort until azzi feels it. a featherlight kiss was placed to each of her scarred knees, the inside of her thigh, eyes flickering up to azzi’s hazy but steady gaze, “this okay?”

god, azzi hadn’t realized until just then how fucking okay it was.

it’s quiet, sensual even, the way that paige talks her through it— heel of her hand dragging endlessly against her swollen clit, fingers thick as they arched into her, teeth grazing the back of azzi’s shoulder with each word of encouragement.

“c’mon, mamas, jus’ like that.” had anyone known better, they’d think paige must’ve been getting off just to this, by the way her own voice hitched and caught, her own hard swallows that reverberated in azzi’s ear, each laced with little gasps as she plunged into her wetness.

but, azzi did know better— paige was absolutely getting off to it. her voice is all breath, crackling and barely audible, murmuring incoherent mumbles that make it almost incomprehensible to decipher, yet, azzi swears she can understand.

it’s in her ear, over and over, that heat and pressure between her legs building as her hips twitched involuntarily against her knuckles, feels the way they slide deeper within her and azzi lets out a noise that even she’s too embarrassed to recount. “fuck, i wanna hear that shit, need to hear you baby, please.”

it coaxes the orgasm straight from azzi’s core, thighs involuntarily squeezing around paige’s hands, to which the blonde is silent in muted awe. she watches with bleary eyes but bated breath, sitting up only a bit to really witness it. the way azzi’s face drew up, eyebrows furrowed and lips parting, the whimper edged breaths that huffed out of her, the tight clamping of her eyes shut.

“so fucking pretty,” each word is punctuated in a kiss, “so good.”

really, it should’ve been a lot worse for them the next morning. azzi can’t help the wave of a ground shaking realization she gets when she rolls over to inspect paige’s sleeping expression, lips slightly parted, her blonde hair mussed on the pillow behind her. there should’ve been some type of lingering awkwardness that hung above them, some type of trepidation or fear, maybe even regret.

it definitely wasn’t like they talked about it, but they’d also never quite gone this far. did they need to? probably, because azzi knew that the guilt would probably hit sooner or later.

in fact, azzi waits for it to hit, all the way until paige wakes up, and her eyes are a little puffy, watery blue and clear as she blinks up blearily at azzi like she’s the finest thing she’s ever laid eyes on (because she is), and whispers with a grin, “distracted by my beauty?”

she waits even until the next away game, when her legs are propped up over paige’s lap and her fingers are drumming absently against azzi’s thigh, humming something in her headphones with her eyes shut, looking like a complete idiot, before their eyes meet by chance when paige opens them, and suddenly, they’re both grinning.

she even waits for it to hit when the buzzer goes off after the fourth quarter of that game, an easy win, and confetti is thrown. it’s chaos really, with all the girls rushing through the tunnel to get back to the lockers. that is, until, paige pulls her aside for half a second, hidden away from the hungry eyes to press a solid, sweet kiss to her lips.

but it doesn’t end there. azzi waits for it during her injury, when enough nights in linoleum covered white floors with the constant smell of antiseptic start to pierce the inside of azzi’s brain, ruins her attitude enough that paige’s texts go unanswered. and yet, everytime azzi wakes up, the pain in her leg flared and angry, it’s paige that’s sat in the corner of the room, huddled under a shitty hospital blanket, waiting for her to wake up.

it went even as far as the loss against IOWA when the roles are reversed— after the excitement of final four had became real, after the grueling, rampant preparation, and then ultimately, a loss. it’s when azzi gets permission to stick around in paige’s hotel room until she gets back from the game, and the way that the blonde, finally in the safety of the four walls, found herself crumbling to azzi, becoming nothing but a shell of what everyone perceives her to be, everything paige wishes she fucking wasn’t.

it’s only then, that azzi finds herself returning the favor— arms wrapped tight around paige’s waist with a burning, sting in her own eyes that she can feel the moment she sighs against the crown of paige’s head. she can smell the sweat, the smell of a basketball court that had just gotten waxed, but really, azzi just smells paige, and that’s enough to give her the composure she needs to whisper against her head, “don’t be so hard on yourself, baby… you guys did so good.”

and they don’t talk about it, because they don’t need to. the same way they never had to ask the other when it came to the hospital or bus rides or homework dates or hotel rooms— it was unspoken, implied but never mentioned. the same way back when they’d met at USA camp, it was never a matter of conversation for their plays to work, it was all in the matter of a look, or a slight of hand.

and when the team starts asking, giving paige shit about how she’s missing video game nights with KK or azzi’s getting shit about caroline missing her study partner, everybody already knows. when paige tells nika, voice only a little timid as she gives her a condensed version of the last few months like it was a ground shaking news, head tilted to lean on the older girls shoulder, the brunette bursts into laughter. ‘finally, took you guys long enough.’

and really, it was a wonder they hadn’t been like this the whole time.

a wonder that it had taken this long in the first place.

[ephemerensis]

Lavender // Tim Drake x GN! Reader

part 1. this is part 2. i just took the LSAT (law school test) feeling floored and dejected right now i cannot lie! rly just ran through writing this 😖 not proofread im sry

—

When you came to, it was Red Robin at your bedside. His hands neatly folded beneath his head as he rested it on the side of the mattress. The way his back rose and fell, and the way he was still as you shifted around indicated he was asleep. You knew little of him, but enough to know that this was a rarity, to see him in his slumber. And it softened something in you, awakening a yearning to protect this peace for him.

Memories of the previous night ran through your head again, and from what you could collect you remembered that bludgeoning feeling that accompanied his little outburst. To think you were the source of his stress, and his being here amplified that. Tense even in sleep like a guard dog at your beck and call.

But he’d forget you soon enough.

If you were honest with yourself, you held a selfish desire for this arrangement to last as long as possible for all the wrong reasons. He was kind and dependable and witty; talking was easy and secretly fawning over him was even easier. This, of course, you knew was unsustainable. You’re a job. He’s a hero in a mask.

When all is good and done and you go your separate ways, he’d find something else to stress over. Although, you hoped it wouldn’t be so taxing. You weren’t happy to be a burden, but if you were his worst then the rest would be easy to bury when you were gone. Wishful thinking, there’s always bigger fish to fry. But worse was the thought that something else could make him as upset as this.

He looked so peaceful, face resting in his palms, features angelically frozen in place. A couple of stray strands dangled between the whites of his mask, brushing against his nose as a breeze trailed in from the open bedside window. You reached forward to push them back, but as soon as your fingers brushed his locks he stirred. Your eyes widened; pulling your hand back, out of embarrassment or something other— you weren’t sure, you pretended to be interested in the birds flying by outside as he’d picked his head up off the sheets.

“Y/N?” It was a wonder you mistook him for Tim the night before, the fatigue was likely to blame. What a ridiculous mistake. Where Tim sounded gentle and fleeting, like waves lapping at the shore, Red Robin was more grounded in his speech. They were uncannily similar in their own respects, but the difference was undeniable. When Tim spoke, it was like he coaxed you into listening, when Red Robin calls your name it’s like he pulls you to him.

You turned from the window to look at him, feigning as composed of an expression as you could, as if your hand wasn’t inches from his face a couple seconds ago.

He stood, stoically brushing himself off and straightening himself, “are you feeling alright? How’s your arm?”

That’s right. You’d been shot at. You glanced at your bandaged arm, neatly wrapped and tightly bound. It honestly wasn’t so bad, it was the tranquilizers that really hit you, and the worst of that effect was long over if your sudden alertness had anything to mean by it, “fine, I almost forgot about it.”

He shook his head, arms crossed, “I don’t know, you seemed pretty shaken yesterday.”

“Was not.”

“Sorry, who was screaming crying?” The ghost of a smile danced on his lips.

Your face burned red remembering your sorry state, “you said you wouldn’t show! How was I supposed to know?”

His lips curled up into a real smile with the twinge of something like guilt hidden underneath it. You didn’t mean to make him feel bad, but the fact that he was smiling was enough to ease your heart. “Told you I could get in anywhere.”

The serene expression on his face reminded you of Tim. In almost every sense they were different, but something in their mannerisms aligned as if the very fabric of their nature were cut from the same cloth and tailored by someone else’s hand. And although you’d only met him once, Tim struck you as someone you really wanted to know. He was magnetizing and more importantly, things with him felt like they were easy.

“Do you know if Tim Drake got out safely?”

Red Robin nodded, “he’s fine.”

“He hid me in the first place, you know,” you smiled to yourself, “and then he went back out for his brother or something. He seems like a really good person.”

He snorted and you swore if you could see his eyes he’d be rolling them, “he should’ve taken you outside to the police or left you with a guard at least.”

You furrowed your brows, “don’t be mean.”

“Just saying,” he mumbled. “They did book tickets for you to return, the Waynes.”

“I’m not going back, I told you that.”

“At least think it over.”

“I slept on it, I’m staying.” You cut him off before he could protest, “at least until the launch. And I meant what I said, you don’t have to watch me anymore. It’s not like I remember all the files I’d read, Gotham is safe, and I have my own people. I’ll just have to keep a… lower profile.”

“You meant what you said?” You couldn’t read his expression, the mask got in the way.

“Every word.” But the way he asked the question made you want to throw in a ‘mostly’ for insurance.

“So you really like Tim Drake?”

Your face burned, immediately crossing your arms in defense. That part of the conversation conveniently slipped your mind.“You know that’s not what I meant!”

“So you don’t like Tim.” The nerve he had to smirk at you left your jaw on the floor as you stumbled for a response. As if you’d admit it twice, you didn’t even know him that well.

“Stop bullying me,” you grumbled.

He just snorted, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. “You don’t need to keep a low profile. As long as you’re here I’ll take care of you.”

You whipped your head to look at him. The last thing you needed was to be a burden to the infinitely charming, slightly annoying, masked stranger sitting in front of you.

“No way, I can handle—“

“I’ll take care of you,” he reiterated, in that frustratingly soft tone that made you forget everything else. Your resolve was by no means something weak, but you already had an inclination towards him, you knew this. And he was too tantalizing to deny, he must know this. It wasn’t fair, you had to fold.

“Thank you.”

Despite it all, you still exercised your caution. Unlike before, you were careful about announcing your whereabouts or even spending excessive time in public. He would do his job, but you would do your best to make it easier. And things were quieter, nothing happened.

A week after the altercation your schedules cleared enough for you to meet Tim for coffee. He’d reached out first but you brought up meeting, for business purposes of course. You’d arrived early, out of something like excitement or anticipation. And he was late.

“Hey, sorry traffic held me up.” Your heart sped up when you saw him walking towards the table, and you weren’t sure if it was your brain tricking you into thinking you liked him that much or if you were really that pathetic. His hair was messy in the way hair gets tousled when you change shirts, but it suited him more so than the polished, perfect look he’d worn the day of the gala.

“That’s okay,” you shook your head with as calm a smile as you could muster, “my schedule is open today. I’m not in a rush.”

He beamed at you, taking the opposite seat. “Right! What’d you order?” Tim nodded towards the cup in front of you.

“Oh, it’s—“

“Wait no let me guess.” He squinted at the cup before locking eyes with you. The cup itself wasn’t clear, but maybe he could get a sense for what it was based on the residue on the straw or something ridiculous like that. After a moment, it seemed he’d decided. He spoke with confidence, complete and certain, “a chai… dirty. Like four shots of espresso dirty, light ice, sugar free sweetener.”

And he was wrong. You burst out laughing, “What? No.”

His eyes had a tendency to smile before his lips did, you noticed. He was shocked for two seconds before laughing with you. “Was I close?”

“Not even, you order espresso with chai? Are you okay?” You scrunched your nose and shook your head just thinking about it. Not just espresso but four shots of it, he was something else.

“No, see, I’m more of a straight black coffee kind of guy.”

You had to laugh, making him stare at you with an amused confusion. First his archaic responses to emails and now this. He just looked young, but he was 40 and balding deep down inside, you knew it. “And you like reading Kafka and playing chess too?”

He tilted his head to the side in catlike curiosity, and the sunlight caught in his eyes the way it glimmers on the surface of the ocean. It wasn’t fair to compare him to a cat though, you’d supposed, he was a dog. Through and through. “How’d you know?”

When he’d gotten his coffee order (pitch black; you shuddered just thinking about it) and you’d both settled into the late morning, he suggested a walk around the city.

You were supposed to be playing things safe, sticking to quiet locations that Red Robin could clearly monitor you from. But truthfully, you hadn’t had time to see the city, nor did you want to turn down the most charming guide the place had to offer. So of course, you agreed. Red Robin was good at his job, this much would be fine.

“You know, I’m not so bad a dancer. I just hadn’t waltzed in a long time.” He’d taken you to a park in the heart of it all. It was huge, sprawling walk ways amongst rolling hills dotted with trees. Somewhere in it was a lake, he promised, so that’s where you were headed arm in arm.

“Right,”he scoffed, “I believe you.” You could’ve drowned in the sarcasm that dripped from his voice. If he wasn’t so chipper about it, you might’ve even been offended.

“It’s true!” You smacked his arm with a half hearted huff he had nerve to laugh at. After a breath, you started again, “I’ve been meaning to ask, what cologne do you wear?”

An emotion flickered across his face, going as a quickly as it came. If you’d blinked you’d have missed it, the briefest twitch of his left brow and the way his lips parted for a millisecond. Not that it meant anything to you, you could’ve imagined it, because he was back and beaming before you could push on.

“Why? Do you want it?” From seemingly nowhere, he pulled out a pocket sized atomizer and spritzed the wrist of his sweater. Tim linked his arm with yours again, before taking the cologne covered sleeve your shoulder and arm with it. The scent of that lavender vanilla washed over you again. In your head you thought they were Pavlov-ing you in some tag teamed manner. At first it was whatever, but now those gentle notes meant safety and comfort. It made you mellow. “Just hang around me more often, it’ll stick.”

“Red Robin wears the same one,” and there it was again. Except this time his face didn’t change, but you could feel the muscles the arm linked to yours tense briefly and his pace slowed by a millisecond. “I just thought it was a funny coincidence. I’ve never met anyone else that’s worn it, and I know my perfumes. You’re a fan right?”

“Oh no, not at all.” He said it too quickly and he knew it. It looked like his featured had frosted over, like a deer in headlights. Tim cleared his throat, glancing away awkwardly. “I prefer Red Hood,” he tacked on.

“Oh,” you frowned, maybe he was shy about it or maybe Red Robin yelled at him. He was displeased enough the other day. “You’re awfully similar, I think you’d get along. He’s a little meaner though. Well, not mean but like… closed off.”

“Yeah that guy sounds like he sucks,” he mumbled.

“Don’t say that.” It came out sterner than you’d intended or anticipated. You don’t know why the urge to defend your masked stalker arose so strongly within you, but you didn’t feel justified in anyone thinking anything less of him than what he was. Softening your tone, you tried again. “He cares a lot, and he tries really hard, and he’s good at what he does, and it makes a difference.”

He just stared at you. But not in a way you could decipher. He wasn’t annoyed or spiteful or anything. He just stared; mouth slightly agape and face unshakingly still.

Tim’s silence spurred on your embarrassment, maybe you’d spoken out of turn. You were suddenly very interested in the foliage, “hey, look at that… tree.”

“You’re right.” Relief flooded your body as he broke the tension, and moreso because he agreed with you. “Do you wanna go out sometime? With me?”

You slowed your steps to a halt. It came out a little out of the blue, but more importantly, “this isn’t a date?”

“I can do better than this for a first date.” And with that oh so gentle smile on his face, you were doomed to believe him.

Tim delivered, of course. He took you to a pottery house to paint your own plates and spin your own mugs; none of which were shaped very nicely by either of you, but he insisted they were gorgeous and… avant garde.

After you’d both wasted enough clay and everything was ready to be fired, he took you to a private garden with the most scenic blooms in Gotham. For a workaholic shut in, he knew an impressive amount of plant facts— at least enough to give you a guided tour of the place and tell you what each flower in the bouquet he picked for you meant.

Subsequently he’d prepared a picnic dinner under starry skies and a full moon, that he insisted he’d cooked himself. He was lying, but you wouldn’t find out until years after.

So saying yes to a second date was an easy answer. And to a third. A fourth.

Before you knew it, you were going steady, and the day of the product launch was soon approaching. You didn’t know what you’d do after. It’s not like you had everything on the files memorized, so if anyone kidnapped you for information, Gotham would be safe. But likely they’d try anyways and you couldn’t keep dragging Red Robin along on a string.

You’d grown fond of his presence though, telling him secrets or asking for advice about Timberly, and you were disappointed when he rejected your employment offer. Not that it surprised you, he had his own agenda. You weren’t scared of going long distance with Tim, he’d reassured you that the two of you could FaceTime during your 30 minute lunches and that he liked you, like really liked you. And you could believe anything out of his mouth these days. Moreso you were sad you’d miss him, well, them. One was your confidant and the other your lover; leaving felt disheartening.

“Tell me why you like me again,” you asked. You and Tim were bird watching at a local wildlife sanctuary. Even though it was a Saturday, the reserve was big (and unpopular) enough to be sparse. And the stillness of it all gave you enough room to hear yourself think and bask in the ambiance of being around him.

The truth was you didn’t know much. It was impressive how, with the lengths the two of you would talk, you learned nothing about him. Everything centered around you or the city or something other, and you couldn’t control it at all. He was enchantingly skilled at directing conversation.

“Because your eyes sparkle when you talk and your hair is shiny,” he answered.

You nudged his shoulder, making him lower the binoculars he was looking through from his eyes. “That’s not what you said last time.”

“I find new reasons every time I see you!” Handing the binoculars to you, he pointed in the distance at some vague tree. “Look there, I think it’s a blackbird.”

You peered through the lens and after some squinting to try and deliberate branches from feathers, you could see what he was talking about. “Tim that’s a crow.”

“No way,” he took the binoculars back to take another look. After a few seconds he shook his head solemnly, “it’s too small to be a crow. I’m so sorry, but you’re wrong.”

You gasped at the accusation, as if you could ever be wrong, “it’s too big to be a blackbird!” Looking for the bird again to confirm what you saw, you huffed, “its beak isn’t even—“

When you’d whipped around to tell him to look again he caught you off guard, just looking at you with the most serene smile you’d ever seen.

“Yellow,” you finished. “It’d be yellow if it was a blackbird.”

It was one of those where you couldn’t tell if he was teasing you or being genuine, although neither was every far off from the other, overlapping often like the ripples fish make in a pond. In this regard, he was uncannily like Red Robin; you couldn’t tell a thing he was thinking.

A faint whistling sound pierced through the air for a moment, so subtle it could’ve been mistaken for bird song. That moment was all it took for Tim’s expression to change, barking a command for you to duck before pulling you down by your arm anyway. The dull thunk that hit the tree you were leaning on seconds later told you why.

The red tail of a dart was stuck in the trunk where your neck was seconds before. You really couldn’t catch a break. Your head snapped towards the sound of rustling leaves in the direction the dart was fired from.

“Did anything hit you?” he whispered and you shook your head. Before you could think anything else your feet were moving on their own, trying to keep up with him as he weaved through the trees, dragging you along. The grip he had on your wrist burned and under different circumstances you’d have been impressed with his agility through the rough terrain, like a third grader admiring the fastest kid in school.

Despite his talents, you weren’t so graceful and you found yourself tumbling along. In your own way you were gifted with tripping on every root, rock, and stone that littered the ground. If it weren’t for the grip on your wrist you would’ve fallen and given up at the first rock that crossed your path.

He ushered you into a small bird watching cabin before letting you go and closing the door behind him. You gripped your knees trying to catch your breath as he peeked out the windows.

“Stay low, they can shoot through the windows.” You nodded, sliding to the floor with your back to the wall. Instead of sitting beside you, Tim headed straight towards the door.

“Where are you going?”

“To get help. You’ll be safe here,” he flashed you a reassuring smile. But before he could leave you caught his arm, shaking your head.

“Red Robin’s here, we’ll be okay. Just stay.” This you knew was true because he said he would be, and you didn’t need much more confirmation beyond that. The only thing that irked you about the whole situation was why he was so late, he’d prevented almost everything so far, but you were certain he was rushing over or taking care of it as you spoke.

To your surprise, Tim didn’t budge, looking you dead in the eye with one of those unreadable expressions again. He didn’t tear away from you or do anything intimidating, but it was in the mystery of his expression that you found yourself nervous.

“They’re not far behind. Let me go.” He spoke gently but poignantly, like goading a child. And while it was compelling, as he so often was, it didn’t make sense.

“No he’s here, it’s not safe outside!” It felt like you were begging. In all the time you’d spent together, you knew one thing for certain. Tim wasn’t stupid, and he definitely wasn’t irrational. This was something else, and he wasn’t being himself.

“Y/N.” In your head you ran through a hundred scenarios. Maybe he got hit by a dart and it made him delusional, or maybe he was a robot clone short circuting. But the plea in his voice when he called your name struck you in the same way an apology from the other night did.

He was still as you let go, reaching instead to cover his eyes with your hand. With just half his face in view, you wondered why you’d never seen it before.

“You’re him.” It was almost a whisper, you didn’t even know if he could hear it or not. But it dawned on you as all the coincidences and reconciliations aligned. All down to the cologne he wore.

“No.”He was firm, but his voice wavered. Maybe you imagined it, but nothing he could say now would change your mind. “I just want to get help.”

Gingerly, Tim pushed your hand down and you took a step back, reeling in the thought.

“You’re Red Robin.” In your own head you tried to disprove it, but it made sense. And you almost felt bad for knowing it because you never wanted to know his identity, that was always supposed to be his to keep.

“I’m a blackbird.”

“You’re a robin.”

But time wasn’t on his side. No one else was coming and the perpetrators were advancing. So without a final refute, he took a breath and reached for the door.

“I’ll be back.”

—

tags! @jedidiah1201 @a-taken-url @lara20aral @moonccakes

[the-dumpster-fire-of-life]

hi!! could you write grover x nymph reader? where reader went to yancy and stuff with him for percy. shes very fem and confident and doesnt rly care about combat or the rules, her and grover butt heads alot bc she wanted to let percy run around and do whatever he wanted while grover tried to be a good influence. shes the only person grover is willing to argue w because she makes fun of him alot but shes rly just trying to encourage him to stand up for himself. maybe on tlt quest they have to work together to look after percy and annabeth and they realise they dont hate eachother as much as they thought? sorry if thats too specific im tryna abide by ur post 😭

if not thats okay!! i loved ur soulmate clarisse fic <3

Sure! Here ya go, and thank you for the request and listening to my post, lol. I’m glad you liked my clarisse fix, and enjoy!

Too Bad

Grover followed right after you, the two of you sent away to look for some food while Annabeth and Percy hung back.

“I just don’t get why you have to be so difficult!”

“I’m difficult?!” You exclaimed, spinning around to look at Grover in disbelief.

“Yes! Why? Why do you always have to argue?!” Grover asked in exasperation.

“I haven’t been arguing with you.” You shook your head, only getting a wide eyed look from Grover.

For as long as he had known you, you loved to argue. It could be anything and everything, and it wasn’t even with everyone.

You just always had it out for him, and he didn’t know why.

You were everything Grover wasn’t, and sometimes without meaning too, Grover couldn’t help but be envious.

You were confident, you stood up for anyone and everyone of your friends, even if they could be wrong. That just never seemed to apply to him.

He didn’t like it, and just wanted this to be over but you were making it so hard. You let Percy run a mock, doing whatever he wanted while he tried to be a good influence.

What did that get Grover?

Another argument.

“Uh- yes, yes you do!” Grover said in disbelief. “You make fun of me, go against anything I say, and you always want to pick a fight!”

“So?!” You exclaimed, throwing your hands up in exasperation as they hit your sides.

“There’s no reason to! Especially because you do it just for me!” Grover complained.

“Because you Don’t stand up for yourself!” You said, Grover stopped as he look at you in confusion.

“Yes- yes, I do.” Grover sputtered, shaking his head after a beat of silence. You sighed, shaking your head.

“You let people walk all over you, Grover. You give in, you’re too nice, and-“ You tried.

“How is that a bad thing?” Grover asked. “Because you can’t be someone’s doormat, Grover.” You stated, giving a pointed look.

Grover just stared at you for a moment Before trying again. “But you’re the one who’s been doing it...” he said, a bit suspiciously.

“No, not me.” You shook your head, laughing under your breath as Grover looked at you confused.

“With me, you argue back, you stand up for yourself. You wouldn’t have done that before, would you?” You asked, Grover silent for a moment as he thought about it.

“…you were doing it…to help me?” Grover asked, almost struggling to understand. You nodded your head, smiling smugly.

“And it worked, didn’t it?” You asked, watching as he mulled it over.

“Your teaching methods are…questionable,” Grover started, getting an offended “hey!” From you.

Grover ignored you, thinking before looking back at you. “But I get it, though.” He nodded.

“See?” You asked, chuckling a bit. Grover couldn’t help but smile a bit as well. He has never thought about it that way.

He had to look away after a second though, because now he had more time too look and see, that the old feeling he felt when looking at you wasn’t exactly envy.

Now, all Grover felt was awe, and a bit of longing as he saw your smile.

You weren’t so bad, especially with your pretty smile, especially when you’re smiling at him

[burnyouwithacigarettelighter]

sugar daddy cillian or robert fischer pls i beggg !!

THIS IS SO!!! had me sweatin writing this fr… also this got rly long by accident and i kinda underutilized the sugar daddy part, i apologize😓

warnings. daddy kink, anal sex, mildly dd/lg, au!cillian (divorced, again not to be disrespectful it’s just to be convenient)

“D’you like it?” Cillian asked, sneaking up behind you in front of the mirror and wrapping his arms around your waist. 

You giggled, “You know I like anything you pick out for me, daddy.” He’d bought an expensive pink silky lingerie set for you, skimpy and revealing but with soft cream ruffles and strategically placed bows that made you look like a little angel — his little angel, he’d so often remind you — and you tried it on for him as soon as you got home.

He chuckled deeply, pressing kisses into the crook of your neck, “I know, I know… you’re a good girl like that, aren’t you? Always wantin’ t’please.”

You grinned sweetly, tilting your head to the side to allow further access to your neck as Cillian’s kissing and nipping grew rougher. “Only ‘cause you spoil me so much.”

Cillian’s grip tightened around you, making the seam of your ass press flush against his clothed cock, which you vaguely felt hardened and pulse at the feeling of your sweet ass. “Gotta spoil m’girl, don’t I? What kinda daddy would I be if I didn’t…” he hummed, trailing off as his hands seemed to form a consciousness of their own, sneaking into the waistband of your new panties. 

His fingers seemed to graze everywhere but where you needed him most, kneading at the flesh of your ass, imprinting his fingernail marks into the skin of your hips— even fucking petting your mound, but not at all going lower. 

“Please, daddy?” you begged with a whimper, your thighs clenching on instinct. 

“I’ll only touch your other hole, angel. You’re not on anythin’ right now.” He chastised, pulling away from you completely and sitting on the edge of your bed.

“We could use a condom,” you insisted weakly, despite knowing his answer anyway. 

“No,” Cillian shook his head, “you know daddy’ll only come raw.”

You pouted, taking gentle steps and sitting on your plush mattress beside him. Here was the crux of the matter: you ran out of your birth control a few weeks ago and couldn’t get your doctor to prescribe it again — y’know, just tedious medical bullshit — and with Cillian’s existing children, the divorce, your paid arrangement… let’s just say, it’d be the terrible cherry on top if he got you knocked up. 

You hadn’t had his cock in you at all, and since running out of your pills it’d just been other stuff, like head or fingering or very, very rough nipple play— all good stuff, just not enough stuff. You wanted him to fill you up, stuff your cunt to the brim with his thick length, but he refused. 

He did, however, offer up the alternative: anal, to which you shook your head and shuddered— you’d never done it before, and if your friends' experiences were anything to go by, you didn’t want to. They always said it was too harsh, that it hurt and he’d stretch your hole too painfully, that you wouldn’t be able to sit properly for days after.

But by now… you were going stir fucking crazy. It felt like one long game of edging, ‘cept there wasn’t going to be an end ‘till you got back on birth control, which could be in months from now. You missed his delicious cock so much, the sweet curve that tickled your cervix just right, the veins that rubbed your walls like he’d stuck his tongue right in you…

You bit your lip, peering into his soft blue eyes, before sighing. “Okay… you can - put it in my other hole,” you whispered nervously, tucking your hair behind your ear. 

You didn’t miss the way Cillian brightened, how his body relaxed with relief at your long-awaited agreement. “Good girl,” he praised, pushing you onto your stomach lightly, petting your hair out of your face. 

He then dragged your panties down slowly, hands splaying across your ass cheeks and humming satisfactorily at the wetness your cunt had been collecting. You were sopping, your sweet liquid smearing against your lips and dirtying your soft, supple thighs. 

You flushed at his intense staring, pressing your face deeper into your baby pink sheets, feeling every bit the little girl Cillian told you you were, getting ready to be fucked in the ass in your overtly feminine bedroom. You heard him fumble with his jeans, before letting out a sharp gasp when two of his fingers dipped into your cunt, swirling around your hole for a pleasure-filled moment and then coating your puckered asshole with the juice. 

“Don’t be scared, my sweet girl,” he soothed softly, lightly toying with the rim of your hole, a finger or two able to comfortably press in. “I’ll be gentle.”

Then, Cillian lined up his thick head with your hole, inhaling sharply as he pushed in. A pained whimper left your throat at the painful stretch, and he cooed, lightly spitting onto your ass to moisten the area up more. “So fuckin’ tight,” he groaned jiltedly, unable to keep in his audible pleasure despite the way you writhed. 

You breathed in and out shakily, incredibly glad that Cillian had stopped for a moment to let your tense hole readjust to his thickness. You could see clearly how your friends’ protests were based in fact — but you could also feel that familiar heat building into your stomach, the insatiable little monster in you acting up ‘cause Cillian had you wrenched on his cock. 

“Can I move?” He asked breathlessly a short bit later, cock swelling when your hole clenched at his words. 

“Ah… uh-huh,” you responded weakly, spreading your legs more, as if it would help lessen the sting. It didn’t do much, other than spur Cillian’s hungry appetite more, but the effort was appreciated at least mentally. 

“Fuck,” he cursed when he pulled out then slid back in, a measly few seconds interval between the two actions. It was so quick it made your head spin and your insides burn, but he noticed this rather quickly and massaged your hips with his fingers gently. 

“I’m sorry, angel,�� he apologized, “just need y’so bad. Haven’t had you in so long.”

You blinked blearily, shaking your head. “N-no, don’t be… I’ll… I’ll be a better angel for daddy.”

He smiled, pressing a wet kiss to your ass cheek, “Thank you, my sweet.” Then, he pulled out again - slower, thankfully - and then pressed back in. He gathered a good pace: not too fast, not too slow, and the pain that you’d felt taking you over scarily dripped away into a pleasure you’d never felt before. 

His cock just felt so much bigger in your ass, and it was already plenty for your cunt. “God, I love your little holes,” he wheezed out, and your back arched, your first moan slipping out of you that night. 

Cillian grinned. “Such cute noises, all for this cock in your tight ass.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but were cut off by your second sound: a wet mewl as his balls brushed past your puffy clit. Your head was swimming with these stranger sensations swirling all over your body, the weird, out of place knot stirring in your lower stomach from anal. 

“Oh, baby, you’re so good for me,” Cillian praised, seemingly out of nowhere, but you didn’t have time to be confused when his thrusts got harder, a modicum of the pain you’d felt earlier returning as he forced his cock deeper within your ass. 

You’d realize a little later what he meant, why he fucked you rougher so suddenly: your walls finally relaxed sround his length, pulsing every so often and feeling like it wanted him to have his way with you. 

“Big,” you squeaked out, squirming and gripping your mattress for dear life. He rutted into you carnally, your ass bouncing with every needy push, jaw falling slack when the pads of his fingers cheekily found your clit, rubbing and pressing on it. 

Your sticky, filthy orgasm was sneaky, hiding behind his groans or your shallow intakes of breath, and came out to surprise you when Cillian’s hips jutted right against yours, his cock deeper than he’d ever been in your cunt. Your cunt clenched around nothing, creaming on his balls as you choked out his name, eyes rolling to the back of your head. 

“You came on my cock in your ass,” he said, amazed and a hundred percent more turned on, sliding in and out of you hurriedly like if he didn’t climax as quickly as you you’d change your mind about anal and leave him in the dust.

 After another loud moment of fucking, skin slapping on clammy skin, breathy whines falling from your lips, desperate growls out of his, you felt the familiar rush of warmth fill you — in your ass, this time, which was similar and completely different all at once. Like, you certainly felt full, but his load didn’t easily drip out of you like it would’ve in your cunt. 

Cillian released a satisfied sigh, leading his softening cock out of your stretched out asshole delicately, telling you to breathe when his head had to exit and reawaken the terrible initial stretch. 

You were face down into the mattress, ass up in the air directly in Cillian’s eye line, knees pried open, back arched— you were utterly, completely wrecked, fucked out beyond belief at the strange combination of pain and pleasure. Cillian leaned down slightly to suckle on your sensitive clit, the torturing tease, before leaning back slightly and frowning, because his come still didn’t spill out of your tight hole. 

“Push f’me, my sweet girl, let daddy see himself drip out’a you,” he ordered huskily, spreading your ass cheeks wide with his large hands. 

You pushed once, and sighed tiredly, feeling his come slowly slide out of your spent hole. It was wet, warm, and thick, coating your cunt’s outer lips lightly.

“That’s a good girl,” he patted the small of your back sweetly, then turned you over to your side to face him. “Now, baby, because you’ve been so good, what do you say about going to Paris? We’ll get those pretty red-bottoms for you, and the sweet Chanel dress too…”

[thebestandrealestever]

..shut up my moms calling !

miles morales 42 x black fem reader

sum: miles is always there . warns : cursing . a/n : the blue story is not coming out right now, i done got my heart played wid so bad . it hurts to much to write that story and i need sum happy . it is coming out just not now, sorry to let u down . and sorry this short i got finals coming up , bop = hoe

based off jace nd crystal from swagger .

miles has always been there , even when he wasn’t he was . you could feel his eyes on you when he wasn’t even in the room , you hoped it wasn’t just you being delusional and your falling out hurt him as much as it did you . now what you didn’t know is it hurt him so much more, it consumed him . and he did swing by your house , your school , and your job . where ever he knew you would be just to see you . you fell out because he was with a girl and he wasn’t treating her the best and u checked him on it . he didn’t wanna be with her and you didn’t want him to either but you’ve known each other way too long to say anything . his parents and yours would often tell each other it was only temporary, you both thought it was weird they stayed in touch but you both hoped it was. you checked on him too , watching his location on your phone or even stopping by the bodega he’s always at . you were actually doing it right now , at the lil corner store miles was always at . you roamed the store just to do it and then you saw curly hair that couldn’t be any one else , you saw your best friend . but to not make it look like you were stalking him, you quietly walked in the aisle he was in . fake looking at the candy while your mind and heart were racing . and he noticed you too , he noticed you walk all the way over there and noticed you looking at candy you didn’t even like.

“hey bop” he finally said turning his head to quickly scan you then turning back and his tone irked you a little but you shook it off .

“who a bop ? anyway hey girl .. “ “ i miss you .” he said in a hushed tone so maybe you wouldn’t hear . “i miss you too, a lot.” you said and his nonchalant demeanor broke , the real him returning , only you could do that . he put his candy down , hugging you as he let out a breath he didn’t know he had . you leaned into the familiar touch , you really really missed him .

“can we not do this again ? life so boring without my favorite hoe .” you said with a sweet smile truly meaning every word , “say it again i bet iah smack tf outta you .” he said laughing and you laughed too, acting as it no time had passed , but you both knew nothing could go unsaid , as the laughter died down and you left the store he spoke up . “ i’m sorry.. about acting like that , i just don’t get why it made you so upset i was with her .” he said walking on the outside of you like he always did . “ion know i guess i didn’t want you with her , you were also treating her like a dog .” you said mindlessly only realizing when it already left your mouth , did you just say that ? “shit not that like i wanted you or anything, i just didn’t want gwen to be h-“ “she wasn’t you , i tried to see you in her but i just couldn’t .” he said stopping in his tracks pulling your hand to turn around at him , “oh , u want me real bad get off my body damn .” you said obviously kidding to avoid talking about your feelings “u play too much” he said leaning into kiss you for like the 4th time ? you always ended up kissing miles , so you let him and it happened like it always happened . it was special like always, different than anybody you’d ever kissed . “you like me or sum ? you always kissing me like damn nigga get out my mouth !” “yo stfu fore i rly do sum to you lil boy .” he said as he starting walking again and you looked around for the “lil boy” “where he at? ion see no lil boys” you said catching up with him and he just chuckled as his response . “i want you , i want us” he finally said as you smiled at the words you’ve waited so long for , “me too .”

[foxaftershocks]

Hi!! I just wanna say first that I absolutely adore ur writing :) and I've literally never done this before, tbh, so I'm so sry if I've done anything wrong or smth. :)

But I wanted to suggest maybe a reader thats also an engineer and scientist for the Ghostbusters, who Lars always considered less able than him since reader was quite quiet, and would run their expermients in peace, never rly interacting with people. Until one day reader is talking to lucky or phoebe or smth, and goes off on a tangent when talking abt smth they're working on, and it's a very sudden realisation to him that reader is actually rly knowledgeable, that their intelligence is much greater than he anticipated.

Totally fine if u don't wanna write it, remember to take care of urself!! <3

I always take care of myself <3 you did nothing wrong, a totally perfect request. I hope you like it

You were sitting across the room from Lars, absorbed in your work, headphones on as your head nodded in time to the beat of whatever music you were listening to. He hadn’t heard you arrive that morning. Not an unusual situation. He never heard much from you ever.

You seemed to be so unaware of his gaze on you, watching as your hands moved, fingers typing, adjusting your equipment, writing something down in a notebook. That was something he’d noticed. You kept paper notes.

Insane. Absolutely nuts.

Your head tilted up and he realised he’d been caught watching. His nose wrinkled and he looked back to his own work. It wasn’t as if he wasn’t busy. He had enough to get on with.

There was no reason for you to be there. He kept trying to figure out what it was you did, what you contributed to the lab. You kept to yourself and no one else could tell him what it was you did. You preferred to work alone, and while he could empathise with that as someone who didn’t love working in a team, he did enjoy leading a team of researchers. You’d never agreed to joining him.

He had to assume it’s because you knew you weren’t up to the task.

When he next looked up, you were gone. The workstation was empty and there was nothing to indicate where you’d gone. He couldn’t imagine you were rushing off to tell someone of a great discovery.

You’d never had one before now.

It wasn’t that he felt contempt for you. Surely there was a reason you’d been hired. He just thought everyone should be on his level and you just weren’t. The proof was in the output.

Stretching, arms above his head, he figured it was time for another cup of tea, the one he’d made earlier having gotten cold as he lost himself in his work. Taking the mug, he sauntered towards the small kitchen set up in the back corner.

“So if I can just figure out where the spectrometer has gone then I think I’ll be back on track.”

He paused outside the door. That was your voice. At least, he was pretty sure it was. From the few times he’d heard it he thought it probably was.

There was something there in your voice, not something he’d heard from you before. It was close to excitement. Lingering out of sight, he continued to listen. He certainly wasn’t about to offer the information that he had the spectrometer you were looking for. It would be put to better work in his possession.

“You really think you’ll be able to figure it out?” That would be Lucky. He didn’t realise the two of you talked. Lucky was meant to be his intern, not yours. He didn’t know why it rankled him so much.

“Sure. I mean, Nadeem keeps letting me study him to figure out where the source of his magic is so… I can’t see why I wouldn’t,” you said, “oh but you remember when I hooked him up to the EEG machine?”

“Yeah. You got those weird readings, right?” Lucky prompted.

“Right and I spent hours staring at them trying to work it out. And then inspiration struck. So I thought maybe there was some kind of electrical field going on. Which would be crazy because usually we don’t think the two are linked. But fire conducts electricity and so can humans. So what if the magic is connected to ions? Seems simple, right? Only, the electrical charge usually comes from the gas around the flame rather than the flame itself. So does he actually manipulate the gas? Or, is it this pyrotron subatomic particle we haven’t found yet? I mean, in order to prove that one I have to find quarks in isolation and I think that would rock the science community more than proving the science behind pyrokinesis,” you said, almost all in one breath.

It was easily the most he’d ever heard you say before.

“Because in order to prove that I’d need to show that Nadeem is manipulating pyrotrons with psychic powers, probably through the electric signals in his brain, and making them hit isolated quarks, which don’t exist so… I’m back to looking at electricity in flames because clearly it’s to do with the electrical activity in his brain,” you said, with a sigh at the end.

Lars felt his breath catch. There was so much going on in your brain, so many thoughts, so many theories, and you were investigating something he hadn’t even considered looking at. Maybe that’s why you always worked alone. Your projects were on things no one considered researching. You looked at the world differently.

It was… refreshing.

He’d thought you’d ket silent because you knew you couldn’t keep up with the rest of the scientists. Instead, it looked as if you kept silent because your research was so different from everyone else’s. They were so focused on ghosts. You were trying to understand everything in its entirety.

He felt dumbstruck. Everything he thought he knew was wrong. It wasn’t usual for him and he felt on the backfoot. It was like you’d been lying to him but for that to be true you would have had to have talked to him. This was so much worse. This was him lying to himself.

You were so much smarter than he’d thought and it left him questioning so many things.

Walking through the door, he felt combative, like he wanted to start a fight. Your voice died as he did, eyes widening when you saw him. He offered a tight smile, pouring out the cold tea into the sink. He glanced over his shoulder, finding you turning away.

“I’ll see you later,” you mumbled to Lucky.

You slipped out of the room, not even offering him another look. He scrubbed at the mug, not wanting to bother making another cup, taking his frustration out on it.

“Rough day?” Lucky asked, sliding up to him.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he replied.

“No sweat,” she said, “but maybe don’t glare at people when you enter a room. It sure does clear it.”

He didn’t have a response to that, refusing to be shamed by a teenager. He left the mug on the rack to dry and walked out of the room, lips pursed, trying to work out how to feel about everything. He wasn’t used to feeling stupid and yet that’s where he was. He’d judged you because he never heard you talk. Because you kept to yourself. Because you didn’t feel the need to show off like the others around the lab did.

You were sitting in his sight again, the headphones back in place over your ear, pen tapping your notebook in time with your music. You didn’t even look up when he sat down, staring at you. If he allowed himself to admit it, you were lovely to look at. Even trapped in a world of your own, there was something there that he found pleasing. You were soft, like the worries of the world had never curved your shoulders, and your wide eyed gaze left him feeling like there was no pretence. You had never lied. He’d just been a fool.

He stood, hands already grasping the spectrometer he’d stashed in the storage behind his desk. trying to project confidence, he sauntered over with it. Placing it down in front of you, he waited a moment for you to notice. Your gaze dragged up to him and once again he was struck by how lovely your face was. You were slow to tug he headphones off, leaving them hanging around your neck.

“I heard you were looking for this,” he said.

You looked down at the machine in front of you then back up to him. There was a slight curve to your lips, an almost smile marred with a hint of confusion. Your eyelashes fluttered and you tilted your head down, looking back to the spectrometer.

“Thank you,” you said, voice sweet.

It was a sudden thought that he could probably listen to you talk for hours. Not that he’d ever be offered the chance.

“And uh, if you ever need help or want to talk through anything.” His hand came up, rubbing at the back of his neck. He hadn’t felt this awkward since his university days, “I’m just over there. I don’t know if you know. You seem to keep to yourself. So maybe you don’t want the interruption. But yeah, I’m just over there if you need anything.”

Christ, he was rambling. It wasn’t like you were the first pretty girl he’d ever talked to. He didn’t even have a crush on you. What was wrong with him today?

“I’m sure you’re too busy to help me,” you replied, voice quiet and far more put together than him, “you’re always working on something.”

“Oh,” he said, shoulders deflating. You were being polite but of course you didn’t want his help. Especially when you seemed to be a genius in your own right and more than capable of being brilliant without his input.

“Not that I don’t appreciate the offer. But you’re working on important things and I don’t want to bother you with my stuff. You’re probably working on some new weapon that will save someone’s life or something. My stuff is pretty silly in comparison.” Your head was bowed and he wished he could see the expression in your eyes.

“All science is important,” he said.

“No, I know but you know, my stuff isn’t saving the world like yours so, I don’t want to take time away from that,” you said, voice growing quieter the further along you went.

“I’m always happy to help,” he said, hoping it would be enough.

Your eyes darted up to him and he saw panic there. He took a step back, reeling from the look. He knew he wasn’t always the friendliest guy but this was a not the kind of reaction he ever expected from his words, especially when they were meant to be nice. He took another step back.

“Right, well, I’ll stop bothering you,” he said.

Thrusting his hands in his pockets, he wandered back to his own station, shoulders curved forward, trying to figure out what he’d done wrong. Other than ignore you, he couldn’t think of anything you would know about. It’s not as if his thoughts were broadcast over the tannoy system.

Only he hadn’t really been ignoring you, had he? He’d noticed you enough to form an opinion. He watched you. He’d grown used to your habits. He thought about you. Earlier that day he’d been watching you. There was no way he could pretend like you had been a non-entity in his life.

When he looked up at you again, your head dipped down as if you’re been looking at him just a moment ago. He found a flutter in his stomach, like a butterfly taking flight. The thought of you watching him was pleasing. Unless it was because you were wary of him and felt you had to keep an eye on him.

Finally taking the chance, he went to make himself another cup of tea, if only to try and ease you again. Maybe his presence made you uncomfortable. He didn’t like the thought that he made you uncomfortable.

He decided perhaps to keep his distance for a while.

A few days and he stayed away. He didn’t try to engage you in conversation, allowing himself to watch you when he thought you wouldn’t notice. The more attention he paid, the more he realised exactly how wrong he’d been. You kept to yourself, but you were confident in what you were doing. Something had alighted in him, the flame fanned by your confidence. Someone so capable at science was a turn on. He hadn’t expected that. He should have. But he hadn’t.

And he should have expected to hear you in the kitchen again.

“I just find him really intimidating,” you said, just through the doorway.

“Why?” Lucky laughed.

“He’s so smart and I know you’re going to make fun of me for this, but he’s really handsome. I’ve never been good around smart pretty people,” you said.

He lent closer, wanting to hear more. He didn’t know who you were talking about and the thought someone else in the lab was receiving such compliments made him feel disgruntled.

“Just talk to him,” Lucky said, “he’s not that scary.”

“I can’t,” you whined, “I get all tongue tied around him and he offered to help me and I just… I totally put my foot in it.”

Who else had been offering you help? He would hunt them down and make it clear to stay away from you. Or, no, that would just make you more scared of him. He had to gentle dissuade them from helping you.

“Yeah, trust me, he’s done that plenty of times,” Lucky snorted, “seriously, just talk to him again. Two awkward nerds deserve each other.”

You gave a small chuckle and he could imagine the soft smile on you face, small, underfed, and yet still there.

“I didn’t think he even know I existed,” you eventually said.

“Look, Pinfield is awkward and not always nice. But it sounds like at the very least he’s never outright insulted you. That’s more than Dan over in R&D can say,” Lucky said.

Pinfield. He was Pinfield. You were talking about him.

“Yeah, well, you crush on guys who actually give you the time of day. I crush on the silent guy who’s science is brilliant but who couldn’t be bothered with so much as a hello,” you said.

That wasn’t true, was it? He’d offered you help. And then gone back to not talking to you at all. He’d gone about this all wrong.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t take my frustration out on you,” you said.

“No, you should take it out on him.”

This was met with silence before Lucky’s laughter burst out, loud and long and he could inly imagine the look on your face. Not that he wouldn’t enjoy… He was sure it would be… Well, he was very open to it if the chance arose.

He slipped away to mull over what he’d overheard. He intimidated you. Because you had a crush on him. And you thought he didn’t like you in any way, that he didn’t even notice you.

Yeah, he’d fucked that one up. No one but himself to blame.

He paid attention for when you returned to your work station, across the other side of the room, quiet and focused. And beautiful. How hadn’t he thought that before? Or rather, how hadn’t he noticed it?

He was so caught up in his own assumptions about you he hadn’t taken the time to notice. He cursed his past self for being so caught up in his own ego to notice what was sitting right under his nose.

Steeling himself, he rose and made his way over to you. He loitered across the bench from you. You were still listening to music and hadn’t seemed to notice him. Tapping his finger on your notebook, he tried to get your attention. You looked up, startled, eyes widening when you laid eyes on him.

“I was thinking of going out for lunch and was wondering if you wanted to join me,” he said, trying to sound confident but also approachable. He realised he was treating you like an animal prone to startling.

“Oh, uh, I actually brought lunch today,” you said.

“Maybe tomorrow?” he asked, “I’d love to hear more about your work.”

“Why?” You sounded so bewildered it was almost offensive.

“I don’t know much about what you’ve been working on. Is it so odd I might want to know about it?” he asked.

“You’ve never asked before. Have I done something wrong? Because if I have I’m really sorry and I’ll stop doing whatever it is,” tumbled from your lips and he was reminded that you found him intimidating, “I really am sorry. If you just let me know what it is I can stop doing it.”

“You haven’t done anything wrong,” he was quick to say before you could continue rambling an apology for something that hadn’t happened, “I’m just interested in what you’re working on.”

“Why?” You sounded defensive now.

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He was trying. He was really trying. And you just weren’t getting it. You were making it so difficult.

When he opened his eyes you were frozen, as if waiting to be told off. Taking a deep breath in, he offered you a smile, his best attempt as he tried to when he felt such roiling emotions.

“You’re an asset to our team and you’re working on things I’m not involved in. I’m curious. That’s all,” he said, desperate to put you at ease.

“Oh.” You voice was so quiet.

“If you don’t want my company I understand. I thought it would be nice to get to know one another a bit better. Whatever. I see I was wrong.”

He shoved his hands in his pockets and turned away from you. He must have misheard. Clearly you and Lucky hadn’t been talking about him.

“Wait,” you said. He paused, looking back at you over his shoulder, “lunch would be nice.”

His shoulders relaxed and he let the corner of his lips curl up in a small smile. Your answering one stole his breath.

“Come on then,” he said.

You hopped off your stool and he realised you didn’t even come up to his shoulder. He could wrap you up in his arms and you would be completely engulfed in him. He found that thought tempting.

Walking beside him as you left the lab, you weren’t looking at him, gaze turned towards your feet. His hand closed around your arm, steering you in the right direction. You looked up at him, eyelashes fluttering. His head dipped towards you, not able to stop himself. There was something about you.

He spent the entire lunch watching you, basking in your presence. You were slow to open up, answering his questions about your work softly. But once he got you going, your eyes sparked and the words tumbled from your lips faster than he could have thought possible. Your passion was clear and it only drew him in further.

“I dunno. Maybe’s its stupid,” you said, tucking some hair behind your ear.

“I don’t think it sounds stupid at all,” he said and noticed the way that seemed to turn you bashful. Your chin dipped and you couldn’t look at him. He lent forward again, over the table, trying to catch your eye, “you sound like you know what you’re talking about.”

It was a quick flash of a smile, that same piece of hair falling forward again. You reached up to tuck it back again but his fingers were already there, doing it for you. You looked up, mouth falling open but you didn’t seem to be drawing back from him. His fingertips brushed over your jaw before he retracted his hand, pulling it back to his side of the table.

“Oh,” you said, almost a whisper, practically nothing but the movement of lips without sound.

“I’d like to do this again,” he said, assuming honesty was better than beating around the bush.

The look of surprise that passed over your face wasn’t what he’d been hoping for. But then you softened, that small smile reappearing.

“Really?” you asked.

“Sure. I find myself fascinated by you,” he said.

“Like I’m one of your experiments?”

He hadn’t expected that.

“No. Christ no,” he said, perhaps louder than intended, “fascinated like I like you.”

“Oh.”

“Can you say something other than that,” he demanded, then realised that wasn’t a good idea, “please?”

“Okay,” you said, giving him a shallow nod, “we can do this again.”

“We can?” He brightened, “we can.”

“But only because I like you too,” you said, not looking at him again.

So he had heard right. He felt a sense of satisfaction hearing the words from you. He would never admit it, but it wasn’t often someone liked him. Maybe that’s why he’d been doing so badly with you. Or not so badly since you were going to go out with him again.

He led you back to the lab, hand resting on the small of your back, the material of your jumper soft against his skin. You were half a step closer, leaning into his touch more.

It was a good sign.

Thank god he’s listened in to your conversation with Lucky otherwise he never would have been able to find you. And he thought you might be changing his life for the better. Your smile was already capable of brightening his day.

He was excited to see what was to come with you.

[shougojo]

SWEETHOLIC

cw: established relationship, satoru gojo x gn! reader, fluff, gojo has a sweet tooth, mentions of the dentist

a/n: haiya idk 💀 i also don’t rly listen to my dentist so this might be stupid

”gojo?”

you had no idea what you had just walked into. you already knew that your boyfriend - satoru gojo, had a sweet tooth, but you never expected him to have such a ‘heavy’ sweet tooth.

gojo was practically stuffing his face with the sweet candy that you had just bought for yuji, since he completed his homework for the week. you were astonished, even dumbfounded. you couldn’t even understand how he hasn’t even gotten cavities yet.

approaching him, you noticed that gojo was literally devouring the candy and was nearly done.

“gojo.” you said, standing right behind him. “why are you devouring the candy’s livelihood? you know it’s not for you, right?”

“huh?” gojo mumbled, face stuffed with candy. you face palmed yourself, he was so shameful; but you couldn’t help but smile at yourself. gojo looked like squirrel stuffing its face with acorns.

“what do you mean?” gojo babbled. “who is it for? you love me so you must’ve bought it for me right?” you couldn’t help it, you started cracking up. “no gojo, it’s for yuji.”

“…huh?” gojo compared to a toddler who just got their tablet taken away. “it’s true gojo.”

saying so, gojo left with his remaining candy and towards your shared room. huffing he said, “you know, between you and candy, i think i like candy more. you probably love yuji more than your own boyfriend.”

you were laughing with tears.

~

the next day, you went out to get another bag of candy for yuji, since gojo, unfortunately, finished it.

opening the door to your shared apartment, you were met with a whiny and scared gojo running to you.

“babe! look at my tooth! why is there something gray in my enamel!?” gojo opened his mouth wide and showed you one of his many teeth. and there that laid high and proud, was a cavity.

“it’s been hurting all morning! i think i might turn ugly!” said gojo dramatically falling to his knees. “could you pretty please with cherry on top, kiss me to make it disappear?”

you love gojo, truly, but you wanted to tease him about the candy from the other day.

“but gojo, you told me you didn’t love me! you love candy more. so how about your candy kiss you instead, hm?” you snickered. gojo gasped. “im sorry baby, i was just kidding!! i obviously love you more than candy!” “more than anything?” “anything!”

you chuckled at his cuteness. “fine, but promise me your gonna buy me the ( food ) that i really wanted the other day!” you said, crossing your arms. “promise!”

“okay let’s go to the dentist gojo!”

“wait what!?”

[gojoest]

Would gojo view sex as a sacred act like something he can only do with someone he truly loves/harbors feelings for… 👀

Since his infinity makes him touch starved/deprived, he wouldn’t want to be vulnerable and give his body away to just everyone/anyone.. His lover being the only one he makes love to. However this does contradict geges statement regarding gojos character (😭)

Idk.. what’s your take on this? :)

yes, in a way i think he does view it as a sacred act. he keeps to himself a lot despite always having this big energy attitude, being all smiles and giggles around ppl, he’s actually got nobody to talk to. he’s not as great expressing himself emotionally to begin with, so he lets out a big portion of his bottled up feelings/frustration when he’s fighting (that’s why he gets such a thrill out of it) or during sex. but i think with sex, he needs some sort of connection with the person, like i rly can’t see him fooling around with random ppl :/ it makes no sense to me bc he usually keeps everyone, his friends and colleagues, at a certain distance from himself even if he acts overly familiar with them all the time. and by connection, i don’t mean it as knowing each other to the T, but more like clicking spiritually with little words exchanged. like he’s attracted and naturally drawn to them but afraid to explore it further so he engages only physically with them (physical touch is definitely his love language btw) and that’s why i said he’s got someone he goes to for sex. and he’s like, if i can’t tell you how much you mean to me, i will show it to you with this but after we’re done, let’s pretend you don’t know anything…. this is how i interpret gege’s words, i can’t ever see him as a fuckboy i just can’t and i don’t think he meant it that way but maybe i am biased. yet judging by his character there’s just no way i speak out of subjective opinion only

[jgracie]

hi guys!!! i would like to speak to u all ab smth i’ve been thinking ab for a while 🤍 please please read

tldr: leaving for a few days, mutuals feel free to ask for @ for secret blog

ok so i’m gonna be completely honest w u all 😣 for months now my mental health has not been the best. ik it obv won’t show on the internet (and irl either because i’m not that type of person) but i’m in a bad place in my life rn. i’ve been pushing thru it but today i received some news that was kind of the final straw for me 😭 (it’s not life threatening or anything it’s just super disappointing for me)

i feel like because of this + stressing over exams for months i’ve kind of lost who i am as a person ?? if u know what i mean ??? and i need nth more than to reset and find myself again because honestly i’ve been making decisions and doing and thinking things that i know aren’t who i am as a person and don’t align w myself and it’s really bothering me but i haven’t done anything ab it and it’s become an endless loop

today was awful for me tho and so i’ve decided to take a break from all social medias 😣 i’ve alr deleted insta and tiktok cz they’re my main issues but i fear this is a social media too. i don’t want to fully leave because honestly this place isn’t that much of an issue for me & u guys rly make me feel better but i can’t do anything halfway LOL so basically what i’m trying to say is i will be taking a break from this blog and my main ( @gentlehue )! ik i already said i’m on semi hiatus but that’s more posting content w this i mean posting in general so this blog will be mostly inactive

i dont think it’ll be very long!!! a few days at most just for me to reset my brain and fix my mindset 🙏🏼 however i do have a secret blog made so that i can talk to my mutuals still because i love u guys SOOO much and i can’t just leave u like that so if we r mutuals feel free to ask for the @ of that blog (i’ll be going by my irl nickname on there so don’t question the name LOL)

i’ll stay checking this blog today and tomorrow just to answer asks and post the buzzcut jason drabble i promised but after that i’ll be gone for a little bit

i’m so sorry it’s come to this but i feel like i’m losing it and if i don’t do this i’ll lose track of everything ☹️

love u sososo much, cynthia

[heart4gyu]

teach you pt.2 || heeseung x reader

note: 18+ minors dni!! very suggestive && wayyy more than just kissing in this one!! [pt.1] so i took some advice from the last part hope you all like it !! i started this off and i rly liked it but towards the end idkk (i also haven’t proofread but i’m so tired Zzz)… lmk what you think anything is appreciated ^_^ enjoyyy & gn <33

wc: 2,361 words

you aren’t really sure why you left so abruptly that night. you could’ve kept going, just like heeseung wanted you to. you could’ve made him forget all about her, all about that date. but you didn’t, you couldn’t. you couldn’t stand the thought of ruining him.

but now you kind of regretted it. you couldn’t stand the thought of her having him all to herself even more. she didn’t deserve him. he was sweet and gentle, always looking out for others. she didn’t know that, all she knew was that he could help her get a good grade.

but maybe the real reason you left him there that night was because you don’t deserve him either. he didn’t call or text you the rest of the weekend so you just assumed his date went well. as mush as you hoped it didn’t…

you and heeseung had a psychology project that you were working on together. so he texted you to meet up with him at his dorm to work on it after class. he wasn’t really much of a texter, so you figured you’d just ask him about his date when you got there.

once your last class ended, you made your way to his dorm. it was around 4 pm when you got there, and he was prepared. he had all his supplies laid out on the small coffee table in front of the couch and a bag full of snacks for you to share.

“so i’m guessing you plan on finishing the whole project tonight,” you said. the project wasn’t due for another week or so but if you knew anything about heeseung, it’s that he hates procrastinating.

“yup, so you might want to make yourself comfortable,” he said, sitting on the couch and patting the spot next to him.

about two hours had passed of you two really getting a lot of work done. you divided the work into two and discussed anything you needed help on. if it was anyone else, you wouldn’t have done a thing but he was a really great project partner so you didn’t want to let him down.

“alright i finished the third slide, i’m taking a break,” you said, getting up to throw away some of the trash that had piled up on the table.

when you came back heeseung’s computer was no longer on his lap and he was sitting back watching whatever movie had been playing in the background. “you never told me how your date went,” you said, as you walked back in the room and sat beside him on the couch.

“well it honestly didn’t go as i expected,” he said, laughing humorlessly. “what do you mean? what happened?” you said, turning to face him and giving your undivided attention.

“we went to the movies so we didn’t have to talk much but afterwards when i walked her home, i realized we had nothing in common,” he said, looking down at his hands that were fidgeting, of course. you felt relieved but you tried not to let it show too much. “and she did try to kiss me, but i couldn’t,” he said, looking over at you only for a second.

“what? why? you did really good when we practiced,” you said, wanting to encourage him in case he felt disappointed. “i- i know, i actually felt really confident after you helped me but… i don’t know, i-,” he stopped, a flush beginning to dust his cheeks.

“it’s okay, you can tell me,” you said, knowing he had something he wanted to get off his chest. you could always tell when he had something on his mind.

“i just- i couldn’t… i couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he said, looking over at you, hesitantly.

you swear your heart skipped a beat. “why me? you’ve been crushing on her since the moment she first talked to you,” you said, really not expecting this at all.

“i don’t know, i was just as confused as you are. but the more i thought of it, the more it made sense,” he said, scooting just a couple inches closer to you.

“y/n, you’re the one that’s always there for me when i need encouragement or advice on anything. you’re always nice to me and looking out for me when i don’t make the best decisions. it’s always you. so i couldn’t kiss her because all i could think about is how much i wanted it to be you,” he said, leaving you speechless.

never had a guy made you feel like this just from telling you how he felt. your heart was beating fast and you almost felt like you wanted to cry. you felt such relief that you couldn’t contain it as you smiled down at your lap, touching over your cheeks with your cool hands.

“and if you don’t mind, i’d really like for you to kiss me again,” he said, his puppy eyes pulling you in just like last time. how could you ever say no to him.

“okay but if i do this won’t be practice anymore,” you said, leaning into his space. you weren’t as good with your words as him but you hoped he understood that you wanted him as much as he wanted you.

“i don’t want it to be,” he said, sitting back on the couch as you climbed over his lap. you smiled at his words but he was already too far gone to return it as you hovered over him.

he was breathing heavy and his hands dug into the couch as if he was scared to touch you. you kissed the corner of his mouth as you took his hands and placed them on your waist.

he gulped when you finally leaned in to kiss him. and it was perfect, feeling his lips on yours again.

you didn’t go slowly this time, when he parted his lips you immediately let your tongue push into his mouth. just like last time, he gasped, but this time it was somehow a bit more desperate.

he moved his tongue with yours right away as you kissed him. you placed a hand on his chest as the other combed through his hair.

you gave the hair at the back of his head a tug and sucked on his tongue making him moan. and it was the best thing you’d ever heard, you’d never heard anything like it.

you noticed his hands gripping onto your shirt tightly and he was shifting his hips beneath you. you could see the growing bulge in his sweats and from his heavy breathing you could tell he needed some friction.

you kissed him some more, really enjoying how good he was getting at it.

you knew he probably wouldn’t be able to handle it but you also really needed to feel something in between your legs.

so you sat yourself down on his bulge and through the thin layers of both your sweatpants, it was pure ecstasy.

he broke away from the kiss just to gasp and hiss at the feeling. you figured he’s just never felt anything like this. it was cute.

you placed a hand on his cheek, making him look you in your eyes as you continued to grind down on him. he shut his eyes tightly as he kept moaning, when you suddenly came to a stop.

“y/n no please, i can’t,” he whined, trying to thrust his hips up into you but you pulled away further.

“what? you can’t what baby?” you said, kissing him again, making him moan into your mouth at the pet name.

“i can’t take it, i need you to keep going,” he said, and he already looked so fucked out. he was sweating, his lips were so red and swollen, and his chest was heaving.

you smirked, thinking about how you could probably make him come in his pants right now, untouched. but that’s too mean, and you couldn’t stand teasing him anymore.

you attached your lips to his and sat back down gently this time. you moved your hips back and forth slowly, letting him whine into your mouth.

he was trying his best to move his tongue against yours but he was completely overwhelmed. all he could do was moan into your mouth and try to match the pace of your hips grinding against his.

when you picked up the pace, he sobbed into your mouth and you pulled away to see tears at the corners of his eyes. you leaned down and kissed the tears away then kissed down to his neck, sucking and marking the skin there.

finally you felt his hands grip onto your waist but what you didn’t expect was for him to push you further down onto his clothed cock.

and now it was your turn to moan for him as he moved your hips in a circular motion over him. you kissed him again as you felt a knot begin to form in your stomach.

the kiss was messy as he bucked his hips up into you. your hands began to wander down his chest, and he flinched when your fingers came into contact with the skin under his shirt.

you continued to kiss him as you felt him up, he didn’t really have defined abs but you honestly preferred it. you felt all the way up to his chest and he let out a groan when your fingers brushed past his nipples.

you smiled into the kiss, and pulled away just enough to look him in the eyes. he looked at you curiously before you dropped your hands back down to the hem of his sweatpants.

“can i?” you asked, and his eyes went wide. “y-yes, please,” he said, nodding his head. so cute.

he watched, nervously, as you slid your hand into his pants and past his underwear. you took hold of his cock and stroked it a few times, getting a feel of his size.

it honestly made you shiver how nice his size was, but you didn’t want to get ahead of yourself. he definitely wasn’t ready for everything that you had in mind so you stuck to jerking him off in his pants.

his whines and moans were really indescribable, they were breathy and pretty high pitched. and you found that you liked kissing him while he made those pretty sounds because it only amplified them.

so you kissed him as you continued to stroke his cock and he kept whining into your mouth. but his head fell back onto the cushions when you swiped your thumb over his slit, spreading the precum all over his cock. he groaned loudly, squeezing his eyes shut. the grip his hands had on your thighs was sure to leave bruises.

“fuck,” he breathed out, “please don’t stop, i’m gonna come.” you were starting to get the appeal of guys begging.

with his head still leaned back, you started sucking a couple more bruises onto his neck and collar bones. you took the tip of his cock out of his sweatpants and rubbed circles at the tip while grinding your hips against his again.

his head shot up and landed on your shoulder at the new sensation. he just let out moan after moan, gradually becoming louder.

you knew he was close by the way his cock twitched and his stomach was contracting. his cock leaking more and more as the seconds passed.

“please, i’m- uhhh god i’m gonna come-,” he said, barely able to get the sentence out with how much he was crying and moaning.

just as you were about to pick up your pace for the final time, you heard it. a key being pushed into the lock of the front door and you both scattered.

you got up off of him quickly and adjusted your clothes and hair. and heeseung put himself back into his pants, both breathing heavily as the door opened and his roommate walked in.

“oh hey guys,” he said, turning his back to shut the door, “hope i wasn’t interrupting anything.” he was only teasing but the longer he stood there with no response from the two of you the more evident it became.

he laughed loudly as he stared at the two of you, blushing on the couch. “jake get out! go! go to your room!” heeseung yelled, throwing a pillow at the back of his head as he ran away, still giggling like a teenager.

heeseung threw his head back onto the couch and covered his face with his hands after jake’s door was shut. “oh my goddd, i hate him,” he said, into his hands.

and you laughed, lightheartedly, at probably the most embarrassing thing that’s happened to you in a while.

“on the bright side, at least he didn’t technically see anything,” you said, and he out his hands down with a sigh. “but he probably could hear you down the hall with how loud you were,” you said, teasingly.

heeseung groaned loudly, the embarrassment being too much for him. you laughed again and reached over for his hand. you intertwined your fingers and kissed his knuckles.

“you wanna walk me out this time?” you asked, and he nodded, defeatedly. he got up and walked you to the door, still holding your hand.

as you were about to step out of the door, he pulled you back in quickly by the waist. “wait, just one more kiss? i’ve been through so much tonight,” he said, an exaggerated pout on his lips.

“oh my poor baby,” you said, the nickname making him weak in the knees. you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, kissing him just one more time.

one more kiss. just one that lasted a little well over a minute. when you pulled away, he groaned and complained but you were already walking away.

“text me hee,” you said over your shoulder, as you walked down the hall.

“of course, and hey, maybe you can come over and study or practice again tomorrow,” he said, shrugging his shoulders when you turned to roll your eyes at him.

[danandphilplay]

im going to put my answers below bc i know some of these vids are likely not returning to dnp and i do agree with that i just wanted to do a fun poll abt if you could have another of these vids then which would you choose. ofc like ive said before we have no control over dnp uploads and i fully know some of these won’t come back lol

ok first of all i don’t think pinof is coming back and i think that’s been clear for ages anyways like ten is a nice number to leave it. HOWEVER i do think an april fools dapc pinof would be hilarious. answering crafties questions and whatever they send to craft universe dnp.

same with amazingdan BUT maybe there’s a slight chance of reacting to amazingdan. maybe not since so much time has already passed since pinof reactions (four months …..) honestly out of the options i’m not that bothered about pinof or amazingdan i feel like they’re classic dnp content that’s fine left as it is

ok for the pizza mukbang thing i don’t care for it to be a mukbang video lol like the actual thing was the nice sit down talk vibes pyjama pizza w friends maybe this is exactly what dan means abt being parasocial 😭 but that video is nice so i don’t think the actual mukbang part of it is that important it’s more the sit down talk style vid

i think i would do anything for another day in the life but i feel like it is prob peak parasocial content. would it count as phouse tour probably. do i think there will be a phouse tour no bc it sounds like it is still having a lot of work done 😭 and i honestly don’t really care abt it… i think the sims renovation was fun and an insight into their interior design opinions lol and that is enough for me

i put it takes two bc a lot of people want to see the next bit i like the game but not rly enough. idk it’s been awhile since that first vid and in terms of other games and things from dnp i don’t rly mind about it takes two being ignored 😭

i know baking is not a discontinued thing anymore bc HALLOWEEN but BUT i really believed easter baking would be a thing 💔 dapc had so much put into it that i kind of forgot about wanting a baking vid but 💔 i can’t lie i think i got set on the expectation for it. like the baking vids have always been absolute classic staple dnp content but definitely the cinnamon roll one was like the baking vids to the extreme… the full potential AND THE BAKE WAS GOOD TOO. the vid was also pretty popular. so my expectations for easter were a bit high. ok so if this poll is like magically summon a dnp vid 🪄 maybe id consider baking because i just love it so much like irl as a hobby but also then dnp doing one of my fav things too and it being so fun idk it’s some of the best dnp content imo. i would love them to try a series of making food from videogames but no offence to them i don’t get the vibe that they cook a lot…… so i think it might not happen. but dil is turning TEN in september so maybe dnp special dil birthday cake baking vid 💔 pleaese pleasemaybe

i think tumblr tag is totally plausible although ik the april fools tumblr tag thing 💔 bc the twitter vid happened i think they’ll do a tumblr one at some point. there’s so much amazing art on here not just fanart but written stuff video and photo edits so i’d want them to see all of that as well as the funny stuff. this isn’t like top of my list of things i’d want to see but it’s definitely one of the more plausible things

dapc behind the scenes content its either happening or it will never be spoken of

honestly idk if they would do reactions to the super amazing project. bc like what vids would they choose. maybe i can see them referencing it or discussing it if someone asked or in a live but idk about reaction vids.

ok draw my life would be fun and i’d watch them. i’d watch an updated dil draw my life too. they put so much effort into that dil draw my life. maybe an updated one for dil’s 10th birthday will happen? that would be pretty fun.

i think if i had to choose it would be a ditl vid. top 3 would be ditl, mukbang or literally just any sit down talk vid, and another baking video. ditl may literally just be bc of nostalgia i don’t really see it happening again but who knows. again just a poll about which vid you’d want to see if you could magic up a dnp vid i definitely know some of these aren’t coming back or very unlikely to

[jack-kellys]

i hate the song something to believe in dearly and truly. it’s the one part of newsies i cannot reconcile because it’s just so bad

please fix it. or do something with it

it’s just not a banger i agree. alright.

send me issues from the Plot or Script of this darn show. and i’ll fix them onstage

so my rules for this is that i cannot cut the song. i cannot invent a scene bc i did that already & that’s cheating.

i do think tho that the key to being… fine with something to believe in is the scene right before. i think that scene MUST be fucking stellar in order for the song to be passable. and the scene before…augh. it could also be written better. the positionally of it and the context and the stakes are more interesting than what they say to each other. except. for.

“don’t say it like it happens every day. i’m not an idiot- i know girls like you don’t wind up with guys like me. i don’t want you promising nothing you’re just gonna have to take back later. but standing here tonight, looking at you… i’m afraid tomorrow’s gonna come and change everything.” EATS.

what’s rly important abt jatherine to me is that jack like. literally does not express his fears to anyone else except her. he talks about regret and anger with davey in wwh(r), i’m not counting that as fear. kath is the only person in the show he shares this with. and what he’s afraid of is being alone.

tomorrow coming means he did vote for the disbanding of the union, it means all the kids he loves are angry and done with him, tomorrow means everyone is gone from his life. (in his pov).

so katherine has a job with this song. she has to refute those fears, finally admit that she’s fallen for him, which means he won’t be alone, even if he leaves. he’ll be in her heart, he’ll have a home there, even if he were to get on a train the next day. she initially comes into this scene demanding something of him, but when she learns his actions were done out of this loyalty and his fear for others & himself… wow. “you snuck up on me, jack kelly. i didn’t even see it coming.” YOU KNOW?? going from “cocky little sonofa” to “of course there’s something” is wild for her

she needs to see him FULLY and completely by this point. idt she does until now, it has to be here for this scene & song to mean anything. this is her almost like. protecting his scared little heart. she says she’s in love (he doesn’t), she assures him it’s okay that it might be for a short time, that it’s random, that things like this CAN be something that happens any day. she offers terms that are accessible to jack, that can let him love her. belief conquers fear, undermines it, and if there’s something reporters are good at it’s getting to the root of something. she just has to take an angle that she didn’t expect from herself.

i think honestly the only line that genuinely bugs me abt this song is jack calling her “an angel come to save him”…. especially cause that boy ain’t white anymore we’ve grown passed that as a community so now it’s like. eugh like SURE, sure, but jack u did lead the strike. with ur boys. and ur leadership skills. and ur love for them. so i think this can be said as a knowing tease and she can wave it off and blush and whatever. u can make it cute i promise.

smth abt uksies that was stellar (wow what a shocker rizz is praising uk newsies…) was how emotive and present bronté’s kath was thru this song, she reacted to every word jack said to her. as long as she’s present i think this scene and consequentially the song can work. u just cannot forget abt katherine’s stakes and her journey of learning abt who jack kelly really is. it’s not a bad song bc it’s a love song it’s bad bc it’s not…. actually about how THEY fell in love. the courage and fear line from seize the day should’ve had a reprise moment here bc that’s what their relationship is based on.

if newsies rly was a love story i think that would be the proper theme through their whole arc together. jatherine is about fear and courage. and so is the show. tbh. just saying

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Was I the asshole for getting a to-go bag at a boba place?

My partner and I (neither of us white) were at a boba place in Soho with 2 friends. My partner got two drinks, paid, and left for the restroom. So I went to pick up the two drinks when they were done making them. The person (of three) working there asked first if I wanted help stabbing the boba, if I’d like to drink it now, to which I said no (Bcs honestly? A bit odd of a service as most people do this themselves, also I wanted to wait for my partner anyway). She then followed up with “would you like a bag?”, which I acquiesced to, thinking why not.

I then proceeded to wait with my boba in the bag, standing in the bar area next to the boba kiosk with our friend A, waiting for friend B and my partner’s return. As they got back, friend A was already sipping on their boba, so in general the vibe was just very normal boba drinking times due to warm weather (at the time). So the rest of us stabbed our bobas while making small talk next to the small counter space provided.

After a few sips, the lady who gave me the bag leant out of the kiosk area, cupping her hands together to tell me that “I’m afraid you’re not supposed to drink it straight up like that” and further, with many gestures “if you were going to drink it now you shouldn’t have asked for a bag. I gave you a bag because I thought you were having it to go.” (Paraphrased) with the general air of explaining sth to a moron. She had a rather heavy accent which was a bit hard for me to understand, so my blank expression might have caused the general condescension.

I was very surprised at this frankly weird interaction and didn’t know what to say at the time. Why was I being schooled? For a bag? A guy in line looked at me with disgust as if I was pissing on the floor right in the middle of the mall or sth. When I left the scene I felt like I was half running away but thinking back it was rly just hella weird. Was I the asshole for taking a bag to wait with?

Note 1: it couldn’t have been a matter of bag price as it was made of paper, which they don’t charge for at these overpriced boba places, and we weren’t in anyone’s space.

Note 2: there were 3 people working in the boba kiosk and at most 3 people in line at the time of this interaction, so unsure why the guy in line gave me such a dirty look besides potential racism. I wasn’t holding up the line or anything.

Note 3: yes I understand overall this is trivial but it was so baffling that I wanted some kind of closure. I still don’t know what I did wrong, since as far as I can tell this is mainly classism for my not understanding “upperclass” norms, hence this submission.

What are these acronyms?