#i think i might be onto something with the second half here 👀

[certifiedcodbabygirl]

I see the ask box open I ask like a moth to flame!!🔥👀✨ Potential TW for anxiety around intimacy(nothing graphic or descriptive) I NEED soft dom soap x reader w a SHIT TON of praise& encouragement. A bitch has a LOT of anxiety and need someone to talk me through it, and can it be they’re already together? Anything else fluffy pls add whatever you’d like!!! Thank you & feel free to ignore if you don’t vibe! Peace out!!✌🏼

Hi love, sorry it took so long but here you go <3

Thought I'd go with your first time with him. Lyrics to Francessca by Hozier are used.

The atom soulmate theory: The idea that during the big bang, the atoms that make us were split into two, creating soulmates aka our other half.

Times like these are meant to be exciting, loved, desired. Why aren't they? He kisses you like you're sculpted by Michaelangelo himself, as if you are his own angel. You are. His hand cupping your face, thumb gently caressing just below your eyes. So gentle you almost miss it. You don't.

He tries to gently pull you on to his lap, but you pull back, knowing where it will lead. He looks up at you, confusion lightly etched onto his face.

Do you think I'd give up?

"What's wrong, bonnie? Why do ya do this?" he softly asks, hand moving to cup your jaw, thumb gently swiping over you bottom lip.

"I don't think I can" you say quietly, not even meaning to fully say it. You move to get off the couch, but he grabs your wrist, pulling to sit you on his lap.

"What do ya mean you can't? What's wrong?" He asks, softly kissing your collar bone, looking up at you.

It's time. He never wants you to hide from him because you're scared of the outcome.

"I wanna be good. I'm don't wanna be disappointing.. And before you say I couldn't or something, you don't know that. I could be. I know you love me, and you've been so patient. I just don't want the wait to not be worth it. You deserve the best, or at least satisfying and I dunno if I ca-" you begin to ramble but are cut off by his lips covering yours. He holds the back of your head. Not harshly but to keep you there. He pulls away, forehead against yours.

That this might have shook the love from me?

Or that I was on the brink

"That's what this is about?" He asks in a near whisper.

"Mhm.." you say quietly as well.

"Mo leannan" he lightly chuckles, "Why didn't ya tell me sooner?"

"Didn't wanna bother you" You say, heart pounding and throat beginning to tighten as your anxiety rises.

He gently and slowly lays you down on the couch, hovering over you, hand holding your waist.

"My love fer ya innt dependent on sex. Yer so beautiful, how could ya possibly disappoint?" He asks as he softly kisses your neck.

How could you think, darlin, I'd scare so easily?

Now that it's done

You stay quiet, not wanting to argue, slipping into wanting his praise. He slowly moves down your body, gently lifting your shirt to your ribs, softly kissing your ribs, moving down to above your belly button and below your belly button.

"So fucking beautiful, so soft" He whispers into your skin, hands caressing your sides. His hands move down to your pants, and looks up at you.

"Can I?"

You pause for a second, the feeling reappearing in your throat. You shakily nod, hoping to be wrong, faking the courage.

"Words, bonnie" He kisses your stomach again.

"yes" You say quietly.

"Good gal" He gently pulls your pants off, discarding them next to the couch. His breath hitches as he slowly removes your underwear.

"Beautiful" He looks at you as he spreads your legs, laying soft kisses to the inside of your thighs, moving to your cunt. You subconsciously close your legs slightly.

There's not one thing that I would change

My life was a storm since I was born

How could I fear any hurricane?

"Hey, sweetheart. It's okay, just lay back fer me. Close your eyes for me, alright?"

Your lip slightly quivers, but you listen to what he says. You sink into the couch. He laces his hands with yours, thumbs gently moving against the back of your hands. You let out a deep breath, trying to calm your nerves.

"Tha right, just breath for me, okay mo ghràdh? Good girl"

That's easy enough. Inhale, exhale.

Inhale

Exhale

His tongue licks a stripe up your cup, the feeling causes you to take a sharp inhale at the feeling. He pauses for a second.

"Fuck" He exhales, leaning in for more.

"What's wrong?" You lift up to look at him. One of this hands moves to gently push your chest back down.

"Best fouckin taste. Been keepin this from me, tastes like heaven" He slightly groans, tongue flicking against your clit.

If someone asked me at the end, I'd tell them put me back in it

Darlin, I would do it again

Your hand grips his hair slightly, more resting against it. You let out a long exhale.

"Johnny" You whine, head going fuzzy from the soft pleasure.

"I know, sweetheart, I know" His hands leave you to move your legs up and over his shoulder, feet against his back. His hands grip your thighs, a bit of your fat squished between his fingers. Not enough to leave a mark, but a firm grip.

If I could hold you for a minute

Darlin, I'd go through it again

He alternates between sucking and licking your clit. You moan, hands holding the back of his head.

"I love ya, so much" He whispers between your thighs.

You feel tears beginning to well in your eyes.

I would still be surprised I could find you

Darlin in any life

"I love you" You sniffle, "Thank you"

"Meant fer eachothar, swear teh god we are" He sits up, lifting his shirt off over him, and takes of his jeans.

He leans down to kiss you, lifting your head up to meet him halfway. You fully lift up to wrap your arms around his neck. His hands hold the small of your back, as if you'd disappear. He lays you back down, and removes his boxers, cock springing out. He's not ridiculously long, about 6.5 inches, but thick. He leans back down, kissing your neck so so softly. He slowly grinds his cock against your clit, the stimulation slightly making you jolt.

"Do ya want this, if yer not ready, we dinnae have tah" He whispers into your neck.

"Want you, just dunno what to do" You say, hands cupping the back of his neck.

For all that was said

Of where we'd end up at the end of it

When the heart would cease, ours never knew peace What good would it be on the far side of things?

"Ya already do so much just layin here" He reassures, lining up to your entrance, "Just relax for me, sweet gal"

You inhale and nod. He kisses your upper chest as he slowly pushes in. You let out a shakey breath, hand slightly scratching up his upper back.

"Good job, bonnie. Doin so good fer me" he says as he pushes in more.

It was too soon When that part of you was ripped away A grip taking hold like a cancer that grows Each piece of your body that it takes

"'M not like em, I promise. You're like a fouckin angel to me" He says, as if he already knew the other men you had been with had taken you for granted.

"Don't wanna let you down" You inhale.

"Never" he pushes in all the way, letting out a groan, "so fouckin tight"

He gives you a moment to adjust, before slowly grinding into you. His arm moves to fully hold you by your lower back.

"Johnny, please, need you to go faster" You whimper, trying to grind into him.

"Shh, needa appreciate 'er" He whispers against your skin.

Though I know my heart would break

I'd tell them put me back in it

Darlin, I'd do it again

If I could hold you for a minute

Darlin, I'd go through it again

"Thank you" He kisses you more passionately than before.

"For what?" You whine as hethrusts into you a little deeper than before, as if trying to become a part of you.

"This, everything, to feel ya, fer choosin me" He exhales, "Dinnae ken how I even looked at anyone before ya"

I would not change it each time Heaven is not fit to house a love like you and I Heaven is not fit to house a love like you and I I would not change it each time

"I promise there int an after ya" He promises, breath fanning against your collar bone.

Before you can respond, the coil in your stomach begins to tighten.

"Johnny" you try to warn, "I'm gonna cum"

"I know, bonnie. 'M gonna too. Let go fer me" He groans into your neck, slightly speeding up, pace faltering.

Your whines get higher and higher pitched, the cord finally snapping with a cry as you tumble off the edge.

"Johnny!" You cry out, clutching onto him.

With a groan, he spills into you, holding onto you like a lifeline.

"Oh fuck" He damn near whimpers, gasping.

As your orgasms fade away, he leans in to kiss you, softly kissing your cheeks, then your forehead, and lastly your closed eyes.

"So so good, bonnie. Better than I imagined" He whispers, forehead leaning against yours.

"Most beautiful fouckin soul I would've ev'r met"

I would not change it each time

The atom soulmate theory: The idea that during the big bang, the atoms that make us were split into two, creating soulmates aka our other half.

[parkitaco]

Umm 51. Kissing each finger + byler???? (If you want 👀)

hi toy tysm!!! i decided to make this one into a lil extra/missing scene set in the gaps and the silence universe - the original fic is not required reading but like. u should read it. bc i wrote it and it's cool. anyway~ fic below the cut <33

Will wakes up feeling, in a word, optimistic.

He usually feels that way, these days - optimistic for his future, his relationships, basically every aspect of his life. He hadn’t really realized how much he’d missed the feeling, these past few years, or how drastically it would affect everything. It’s happiness plus something, happiness that isn’t tainted by the worry of everything being snatched away from him. Happiness that promises to last.

He rolls over onto his back, opening his eyes and releasing a contented breath as he stares up at the ceiling, smiling to himself. It’s Tuesday today. He used to hate Tuesdays. Now, though, it’s sort of hard to hate anything for any extended amount of time.

The primary reason for his optimism is still sleeping, chest rising and falling gently on the other side of the bed, and Will chances a glance at him, the smile on his face growing tenfold. Mike’s hair spills out over the pillows, one arm thrown over his stomach and the other brushing Will’s. He’s a pretty sight, even in the weak sort of sunlight that January offers through the half-closed curtains. But then again, Will’s a little biased.

Everything is so good, lately. Even this morning, a Tuesday, where he’s doomed to spend the unfortunate majority of his day helping ungrateful customers at the convenience store where he works and then come home to a darkened apartment and be forced to throw something together for dinner- it’s good. It can’t be anything other than good, when he gets to wake up next to his boyfriend.

Said boyfriend stirs, rolling over onto his side and shoving his face into Will’s neck, tossing an arm over Will. “Hi,” he mumbles, lips pressed against Will’s skin, and Will grins.

“Hi,” he whispers back, quiet in the delicacy of the morning, and presses a kiss to the top of Mike’s head. “Sleep okay?”

“Mhm,” Mike hums, still half-asleep as he wriggles closer to Will, chasing his warmth. “Your bed is so much more comfortable than the one at the motel.”

Will huffs a soft laugh, reaching up with one hand to trail his fingertips through Mike’s hair. “I would certainly hope so.” Not that Mike even sleeps at the motel that often anymore, only occasionally going back to get clothes or prove to the staff that he does, in fact, still need the room, but still. Will likes to think he has a little more to offer than a dingy motel room.

Mike hums, and Will can feel the vibration of it from where Mike is pressed up against him, warm and sleepy, and for a second Will is tempted to quit his job just so that he can stay here with Mike for the rest of time rather than standing behind a checkout counter all day trying to stay awake. He’d go broke, probably, and stop being able to afford this apartment, and then he wouldn't even have a place to hide away from his responsibilities anyway, but- it might just be worth it, for a couple extra hours curled up beside Mike. 

He glances at the clock, one hand resting gently against Mike’s bare shoulder blades as he shifts, and winces when he sees the time. “Shit, I have to start getting ready.”

“Nuh-uh,” Mike says immediately, tightening his hold on Will’s waist and pressing his nose firmly into Will’s shoulder. “Stay.”

Will smiles, settling into Mike’s grip if just for a moment and pressing another kiss to the crown of his skull. “Tempting,” he murmurs, as Mike trails a gentle hand over his ribcage, “But I can’t. Sorry.”

Mike whines in protest, flopping back over to his side of the bed and throwing a dramatic arm over his eyes. “Fine. Go, see if I care.”

Will smirks, leaning over and gently nudging at the arm blocking Mike’s eyes. “You can stay here if you want,” he offers, as if it’s not obvious, as if Mike has not spent the majority of the month since they reconnected hanging out in his apartment, “I’ll be back by five.”

“That’s forever from now,” Mike huffs, breath fanning across Will’s face as he leans in to press a kiss to the sliver of jaw not obstructed by Mike’s arm. “I’ll die of loneliness.”

Will laughs. “I’ll be sure to write a heartfelt eulogy for your funeral. ‘Mike Wheeler died as he lived; being a dramatic loser.’”

Mike lifts his arm in order to glare at him, lips twisting into an exaggerated pout. “Mean.”

“You love me,” Will replies, kissing his forehead one, two, three times before slipping out of bed and heading in the direction of his dresser. The sentiment still sends a little thrill through his ribcage, a confirmation and a confession at once, slipping more easily off his tongue every time he utters it. It feels true, these days, something he’s gradually learning how to let himself believe. 

“Yeah,” Mike agrees, already back to burying his face in his pillow, arm tugging the covers further over himself, “That’s kinda my point.”

Will grins, pulling a t-shirt out of his drawer and pulling it on. “Bowie will keep you company,” he says, nodding to the cat curled at the foot of his bed, sleeping in a patch of sunlight. 

“I can’t believe you named your cat Bowie,” Mike huffs, as Will zips up his jeans and leans over to grab the cat off the floor. “You are so pretentious.”

Will feigns a scowl, cradling a squirming Bowie in his arms and pressing a kiss to the top of his furry head. “You love me,” he repeats, and Mike opens one eye as he smirks up at him, “And you love Bowie.”

To prove his point, he dumps Bowie onto the bed, earning a scathing glare from both his boyfriend and the cat. Bowie swishes his tail, giving Mike an appraising sort of look, and Mike frowns. “I don’t think he loves me,” he points out, as Bowie turns his little head firmly in the other direction. “He bites me every time I try to pet him.”

“Yeah, well, he has trust issues,” Will says dismissively, grabbing his bag off the floor and leaning over to kiss Mike’s temple. “He’ll warm up to you eventually. Especially if you feed him.”

Mike doesn’t look convinced, but he sends Will a soft smile anyway, relaxing back into the pillows. “If you say so,” he says warmly, and Will swoops in to kiss his cheek one more time.

“I’ll see you later,” he murmurs, lips still pressed against Mike’s skin, and Mike reaches up to tap a finger against the tip of Will’s nose as he pulls away. “I love you.”

“Love you too,” Mike murmurs, already fading back into sleep, and Will can feel his ridiculous, ballooning optimism exponentially increase as he ruffles Mike’s hair and slips out of the bedroom, leaving the door ajar behind him. 

He grabs an apple off the counter on his way out of the apartment, keys clutched in one hand and jacket thrown over his arm as he takes a bite. In the back of his mind, he can already hear Mike’s lecture later about taking care of himself and getting enough protein, because he takes the being-back-in-Will’s-life more seriously than he’s ever taken anything else in his life. It’s an entirely hypocritical lecture, considering Mike is deficient in maybe every vitamin in existence, but it’s endearing anyway. Mike cares so much, all the time and about everything, but especially Will. He’d forgotten that, in the time they’d been apart. It’s nice to be reminded.

Will does a final scan of the apartment, making sure he has everything he needs, before steeling himself for the bleak world outside his warm, cozy apartment and opening the door. He takes another bite of apple as he fumbles with his keys, part of him still wondering if it’s really too late to call in sick to work, really. His meager salary of seven dollars an hour, times the eight hours he’d be working, so he’d be missing out on- oh, forget it. Will’s never excelled at math, but he knows skipping out on that paycheck would be a missed opportunity.

“I knew Will first, you know,” he hears Mike say to Bowie from the bedroom, in the split second before the front door swings shut, “You’re not special.”

Will grins.

---

Will gets home at five-thirteen p.m., lugging a back of groceries over one arm and swinging his keys in the other. The day had been long, in standard Tuesday fashion - an eight hour shift under fluorescent lighting followed by him scouring the aisles of the grocery store for the cheapest items his meager income can allow, and he’s exhausted, hair limp and floppy against his face and feet heavy.

He kicks the door closed behind him, muttering to himself about stupid minimum wage jobs and college schedules, and glances up to find Mike sitting at the counter, eating a bowl of cereal and reading a book. It’s the last of the cereal, probably, because he’d been down to the end of the box and had forgotten to buy more, but it’s cool, Will would give everything he has to Mike Wheeler and cereal is probably the least of it.

He stops short, grocery bag slipping off of one shoulder as he takes in the sight. “Hi.”

Mike glances up, smiling and setting down his spoon. “Hey. How was work?”

“Um- good,” Will says, even though it wasn't, really, although at least this time he didn’t have to deal with old Mr. Becker and his millions of discount codes and gift cards that he can’t ever manage to use in a timely fashion. “You’re still here,” he says observantly, noting that the oversized t-shirt he’s wearing is, in fact, Will’s, as are the sweatpants he’s wearing, too short in the cuffs. 

Mike smiles a little confusedly, sliding off the stool he’d been sitting on and walking over to Will, gently taking the bag of groceries out of his hands. “Yeah,” he says slowly, setting the bag down on the table and taking Will’s keys as well, “Was I not supposed to be?”

“No, it’s- good,” Will says, feeling a little dazed. His brain is overtired from the day, and he’s having some trouble processing information. “I’m glad you’re here, I was just surprised.”

Mike huffs a wry little laugh. “You told me to stay, remember?” he asks, and now that he mentions it, Will does vaguely remember telling him he could hang out at the apartment for the day. He just hadn’t expected Mike to, you know. Actually do it.

“Yeah,” he says, still reeling a little, and that strange optimism strikes up in his chest again. It shouldn't be a big deal. It’s not a big deal, because Mike comes over all the time, and spends four to six nights a week sleeping beside Will in his bed, but something about Mike staying here, sitting at the counter eating food from the fridge and reading one of Will’s books off his shelf, waiting for him to come home after a long day - there’s intimacy there. That’s seven-year-old Mike, sharing half his sandwich with Will during lunch without even thinking twice about it. That’s twelve-year-old Mike, wrapping an arm around Will on Halloween night and telling him he was taking him home, only to end up in the Wheeler’s basement instead of Will’s own house like it meant the same thing, which to Will it truly did. It’s twenty-year-old Mike, traveling halfway across the country on the off chance of seeing Will and twenty-year-old Mike standing in front of him now, here in Will’s apartment with a bemused little smile on his face like it didn’t occur to him to be anywhere else.

Will’s brain kicks back into gear, and pulls Mike into a kiss.

Mike makes a pleased, surprised sound against Will’s lips, hand flitting up to press against Will’s arm like an instinct, and Will shivers as he reaches up to cup Mike’s jaw. He can get used to this, he thinks incredulously, just like he has every day for the past month - he can get used to the feeling of Mike’s lips against his own, his arms wrapped around him when he wakes up in the morning, the soft lilt of his voice when he talks to Will. It’s not getting taken away this time, as Mike makes a point to remind him of at every possible opportunity. Mike is Will’s, for as long as he wants him.

Will presses in closer, kissing Mike firm and slow, tongue tracing gently over his lip. Mike holds him close, protective and solid and just as awed as Will feels, and it’s a few long moments before Will pulls back, breathless and dizzy as a wide smile splits across his face. 

Now Mike is the one who looks dazed, eyes hazy as he presses his forehead against Will’s. “What’s that for?” he asks softly, leaning in to kiss him again quickly, soft and gentle and lips disconnecting with a soft click when he pulls back. 

Will drags his thumb over Mike’s jawline, eyes tracing over his face. He feels like he’s overflowing, a little, his optimism spilling out over everything he touches, and it should be embarrassing, but Will can’t remember ever being this happy before. He couldn’t begin to figure out how to apologize for it even if he wanted to, and for once in his sorry excuse of a life, he doesn’t want to.

“I think,” he says, fingers trailing over Mike’s flushed cheeks, tracing over his freckles, “You should let the motel have their room back.”

Mike’s eyebrows draw together, lips twisting contemplatively. “What, like, find somewhere else to live? I guess, but that might take a while-”

“Mike,” Will interrupts, laughing, hand pausing where it caresses Mike’s cheek, “I meant- you should live here. With me.” He pauses, flushing, and is a little shyer when he adds, “I mean, if you want.”

Mike’s eyes widen almost comically, and he releases a soft breath against Will’s hand. “Oh,” he breathes, sounding a little awed, a little like how Will feels every time he looks at him. “Oh, I- yes, of course I want, are- are you sure?”

And- it’s only been a few weeks. There’s still so much to work out, so many conversations to be had, so many broken things to be mended. They’re still getting used to this new, wonderful thing between them, and there’s still five years of silence to make up for, and even in terms of normal standards it’s moving pretty fast, and-

And yet. 

He thinks of Mike, stepping into Will’s apartment on the third day after they reconnected, looking around with that reverent look on his face and whispering I feel like I’m home, and all the excuses, all the protests the practical part of his brain tries to make, all the worries that the part of him that still wants to doubt insists on, fade away like melting snow.

“I’m sure,” Will says, giggling a little and kissing Mike’s forehead quickly, “I’m definitely sure.”

“Okay,” Mike agrees breathlessly, sounding as giddy as Will feels, “I- shit, okay, yeah.”

Will loves him. He loves him so much. “Even though you’ll have to deal with Bowie?” he teases, as the cat in question appears from the direction of the hall, swishing his tail and looking expectantly at his empty food dish. 

“Me and Bowie are gonna be best friends,” Mike declares, grinning as he wraps his arms around Will’s waist and hitches him closer, “I fed him today and now he doesn’t try to bite me.”

Something warm and light settles in Will’s chest, and he blinks up at him. “You fed him?”

“You said he’d like me if I did!”

Which, again, Will remembers saying, but again hadn’t expected Mike to pay all that much attention to. He presses his thumb over Mike’s cheek, right at the corner of his mouth, feels the dimple in his cheek when Mike smiles at him. “I love you,” he murmurs, the only way left to describe the way he’s feeling right now, that invincible, warm, giddy feeling. He, for the first time in a long time, feels like everything might turn out okay. Better than okay, even.

He goes back to tracing Mike’s freckles, but Mike catches his wrist, bringing Will’s hand around to his lips and kissing the pad of his thumb before trailing to his other fingers. Will laughs softly, Mike’s thumb brushing over his knuckles as he kisses Will’s index, middle, ring fingers, hooks his own pinky through Will’s and kisses the knuckles there like a promise. “I love you too,” he murmurs, flipping Will’s hand around and pressing a firm kiss right to the center of his palm. “So much.” His lips trail back over Will’s fingertips, feather-light and almost ticklish, and Will feels- rosy, bathed in warmth and light and love even in the dead of winter. “Do you want help with the groceries?” Mike offers, lips still pressed against Will’s hand, and Will had almost forgotten about the bag of food abandoned on the kitchen counter, lost in Mike’s touch. 

It’s all so domestic. Will could fucking cry. “Yeah,” he whispers, as Mike presses a firm and final kiss to his knuckles and pulls away, sending Will a soft, pleased smile as he steps over to the counter and reaches into the bag. I love you, Will thinks again, balling his fingers up against his palm like he can hold the ghosts of Mike’s kisses there forever. 

From his spot on the ground, Bowie twitches his tail in warning, needing attention and probably food. Outside, rain falls softly on the concrete of Will’s - Will and Mike’s - apartment building. Mike hands Will a carton of eggs, smiling as Will brushes past him to put them away. 

All is well.

[sir-yeehaw-paws]

can we have some more of ur tpp ocelhira hcs? 👀 (its my bday today although thats completely unrelated ehe)

AYEEEE HAPPY BIRTHAY OCELHIRA ANON.

Let me see what I have brewing and cooking here.

So TPP can definitely get a little wonky-donky for the Ocelhira times because Ocelot has hypnotized himself. This puts a minor wrench in things, depending on what Kaz knows. And I'd say there's a good chance Kaz doesn't know he's hypnotized BUT I think Kaz might know something is up. He's known the guy nine years at this point (give or take) and he knows Ocelot is the master of mind games, but after that long working together, I think even Ocelot is going to have some consistencies with his personality-at least, the very basis of his personality himself.

But I don't want to complicate it too much, so anyway. I think that Kaz asks a lot of questions in this time period, and the answers he comes up with boil down often to things like: Boss is back so Ocelot's mindset and priorities have (of course) swapped over to his favourite person of all time again. The stuff they've been building for 9 years is now in fruition, their needs and mindset have changed and Ocelot has other things on his mind besides Kaz, etc. Intense, unforgiving self-loathing. Kaz assuming he's not desirable or interesting anymore. Etc.

I do think Ocelot helps Kaz out (whether he wants that help or not) because it has to be done. If neglect or otherwise starts affecting Kaz's work, he is going to step in. I have shaving headcanons here too-Boss is off base half the time (and often by Kaz's request, especially early on when Kaz is giving Venom mission after mission after mission) and Ocelot's good with a blade (IMO anyway). Kaz doesn't shave much in this time (as we can see), but if he does. Ocelot is there and waiting with the straight razor.

Their banter got WAY worse in this time period. Like, way worse. Banter is a normal thing for them, it got dialed up to 11 in this time. This one gets explored in fanfics periodically and it's one I agree with, or at the very least it is one I like to explore and ponder myself. It's where Kaz actually does catch onto the hypnosis, and confronts Ocelot about it. I have a headcanon about them orchestrating Kaz's capture together.

Far as Parasite! Verse is concerned, I headcanon Ocelot being one of the first to really clock into the parasites, and start coaxing them out to play because his morbid curiosity gets the better of him, and he knows it's around and happening of course he's going to pry.

The worst fights they have are about Quiet (though Ocelot just makes Kaz admit he's jealous and maybe gets slightly petty and teases him about it)

Ocelot loves to fuck with the office. They probably share an office, but Ocelot will do shit like move Kaz's pens slightly to the left, or hide his favourite notebook somewhere stupid. Rearrange things JUST enough that Kaz knows something moved, but can't quite pinpoint how, or where too.

NSFW/Darker

Ocelot has probably offered Kaz Venom's wormwood more than once. With or without complete total consent. Just dip a little bit into the food, the coffee. Anything that will get him to chill out for ten seconds. It's for Kaz's own good (is how Ocelot justifies it to himself)

I imagine they have probably the least amount of sex here than ever before. Ocelot is distracted, and I feel that Kaz's own sex drive is about the lowest it's been since he can even personally remember. There are a few lackluster quickies, maybe. Sometimes there's the sudden re-surge where it's as good and as intense as before, but it's not a frequent thing.

That being said, I think Ocelot is one of the few people who doesn't 'kid glove' Kaz. He will still get physical with him, he will still call him out. They will still fight/fuck. Kaz takes a little bit of perverse pleasure in it because it makes him feel something like his old self again, to some degree.

[pocketramblr]

machia and yoichi, you say 👀 could you tell us more about this ship, please? i smell a lot of fun here - they both were close to afo, had some emotional attachment to him, experienced extreme violation of their body autonomy because of it, however they had very... well. rough start. but any romantic relationships between them would be based on something more than constant manipulations, lying and lust, i bet

My thoughts are more half-shaped vibes than coherent sentences but I'll do my best. I see two main sets of options for this ship

1- where they do indeed have a very rough start lol. Machia is one of the few trusted with the Vault's location and purpose and brings food when AfO is too busy elsewhere, and sometimes they talk- neither of them think very highly of the other, but I think actual conversation could break out after Yoichi asks where his brother is when it's been longer than usual since he visited, and Machia picks at the concern in his voice, to Yoichi's protests. Yoichi would also ask his name and not get it, but two days later realize Machia never refers to him by name either. "I'm Yoichi, by the way." And Machia never heard his name out of AfO's lips before (never heard AfO's name either, though, surely he doesn't need it, to serve his lord...) but something's gotta shift then, even if it isn't much. Perhaps it is something different, to hold down someone for force feeding when you know their name. (Something different when he shot an angry look at you first, for telling AfO about the hunger strike, even though you aren't the one who got him locked down here and he was skinny enough before-). Also I don't think Yoichi is actively trying to seduce his guard to escape (which is also something fun but anyway less so here) BUT he does have this urge in him. This "I can fix him" urge, or maybe this "I can save him" urge is a better way to put it. Also, Machia had to have seen a lot of quirk exchanges, thefts, and rewards in his time guarding AfO. He's also not that dumb. I don't think it'd be too much of a stretch for him to begin to pick up on the different reaction to someone without a power getting one, someone with a power getting another one that merges, and someone with a power getting another one that overwhelms them. So after Yoichi has a power forced onto him, I think Machia might be one of the ones who realizes what happened first- even if he's in denial, thinks it could be an unusual reaction because Yoichi's body was weaker than expected, surely AfO would know if he has a quirk and they merged together- but after reporting the reaction to AfO, who suddenly can't take it back out of Yoichi, well... clearly AfO isn't perfect. I don't know if it would go fully romantic before Yoichi's rescue from the vault but I think it could be heading that direction. And, Machia would feel guilty enough for Yoichi being taken from the vault even though he was guarding AfO at the time as ordered, more so if Yoichi dies soon after. Guilty and grieving enough to submit to AfO giving him more powers, even as it hurts while they're still merging, he'll survive it, get stronger, never notice how much of his mind AfO clawed back under his control, how little he thinks of Yoichi years later.

2- the second option is that they actually had a rough end. This is one where Machia was Yoichi's friend first, and AfO suffered a bad case of "can't let him have his own toys". Perhaps Yoichi started out as a villain, or closer to it, and recruited Machia in. Perhaps they were friends when younger. Either way, AfO slowly gets in between them, charismatic and manipulative. Maybe seems a more capable villain than Yoichi, who gives Machia powers while Yoichi keeps losing the forest for the trees, trying to ensure each lower member of the group is in the right spot, helped in return, something Machia had appreciated when it benefited him early on, found good, but now finds irritating, as AfO clearly does. Or perhaps Yoichi was always too sweet, and AfO poked and prodded about how he needed more protection, about how only he had the power to do more, speaking of things Yoichi couldn't understand but they, the metas, could. And then it's easy to join, and easy to be betrayed when Yoichi tries to leave. After all, if he'd turn on his own beloved family, who was there before you were, of course he'd turn on you too eventually, and maybe you were more of a project to him than a partner- memories easily rewritten, when pretty green eyes are glaring at your fiercely as if you're the traitor, when you never left, carrying him down to the vault (gently, as ordered, even though you know Yoichi could handle more than his brother's protective instincts want to admit.) And then he doesn't even say anything to you again, never- not in the vault, not after, not when he's dead.

[be-ready-when-i-say-go]

Eddie trying to hide his very obvious boner in the middle of class and POC reader decides to do something about it ? 👀

The hoes gon' love this. Thanks for the idea!

Eddie Munson x Gender Neutral Reader. Black Reader described. Reader is 18.

CW: 18+ Content (Smut Adjacent)

Send me request here! Currently writing for Eddie Munson. I write for a variety of reader inserts (male, female, gender neutral, POC too).

Feel free to look through my masterlist here!

__________________________

While you weren't one to be late, you were one to always try your best to be a helping hand. Halfway through lunch, you walked one of your friends to the nurse's office. She'd been complaining for the last half an hour about her stomach hurting and it wasn't until she sat down that you saw the flash of panic over her face. She asked to borrow your jacket to tie around her waist and you easily gave it up. Though you did definitely try to keep an eye for the seat she'd just exited.

The excursion to the nurse's office took longer than you originally intended, but you didn't mind it as the nurse scratched down a late pass. Which landed you here, walking into Chemistry a few minutes late.

Mr. Clarkson takes the pass, seemingly satisfied by the signature on the bottom. "Table in the back, you're with Munson."

Eddie catches the sound of his name and looks up from the set of instructions copied over from the handwritten set. You stand, right off the side of the bench in the front of class, not a single set podium but clearly for Mr. Clarkson to show the class how to run the experiments.

He watches you, the gray t-shirt covering the expanse of your chest. It's not what he saw you in earlier. He distinctly remembers a green top because he liked the way it set against your deep brown skin. But he tries not to stare. It's sort of ridiculous that he remembers what you were wearing at the start of the day. You start to turn, scanning the room to locate him so he turns his attention back to the instructions. Eddie wishes at that moment he didn't have to tie his hair back for the lab today.

From the periphery of his vision, Eddie watches as you approach, sneakers squeaking just a little as you turn to slide onto the stool. Eddie looks up then, giving a small tight lipped smile. "Hey," he offers.

"Sorry I'm late," you return, grabbing the safety glasses off the desk and scanning through the instructions.

"I haven't burned anything down just yet so I think it's safe to say you're right on time," Eddie teases.

"Oh, c'mon, who doesn't love a little arson," you laugh, looking up to Eddie. His laughter sounds short and you realize his gaze is lingering on you longer than you anticipated. The cool on your arms reminds you that you don't have anything to cover your arms. "One second," you say, patting Eddie on the arm and then half jogging to Mr. Clarkson's desk.

Eddie closes his eyes as you go, trying to keep his mind on the lab, and not the way your hand felt warm against his forearm. It was a soft squeeze--one that reads friendly, but Eddie hates how much it sends a tingle down his spine. You approach not too long after, threading your arms into the sleeves of a lab coat.

You don't even bother slipping back onto the stool. You move it to the end of the bench and lean into the table. "How far have you gotten?" you ask, peering over Eddie's shoulder.

You're not even that close. But Eddie can still catch the heat radiating off you and he shifts a little in the chair, trying not to imagine how it might feel for you to completely press into the back of him. Eddie points to the step he's on, measuring out milligrams for the solution. He got through the first three or four steps before you arrived by himself.

"I'll do it."

It's a simple offer and you reach right beside him to the dish that's been set out for you two. "I-I'lll get the bunson burner set," Eddie offers weakly, slipping a hand down from the table over his crotch. Now was not the time to have a boner. But Eddie is too fucking weak to really stop it.

He's thankful as he sets the heat just right that you haven't seemingly noticed. Eddie stays on his stool, trying to push his lap as far under the bench as he can get it. But when you measure out the powder and go to add it to the solution Eddie's already started you run one hand across his shoulders and Eddie bites his lips.

He should think about dead puppies. Or dead cats. Or how he got picked on in the third grade and his favorite sneakers got ruined because Carver pushed him into the mud while they waited for. the bus. Eddie should think literally about anything else, but he keeps his mind lingering on the feeling of your fingers over his shoulder and he hates himself for it.

"How long do we stir?" you ask, the glass clinking just a little as you work.

"Thirty-thirty seconds."

"You doing alright over there, Munson?" you laugh. The glass clinks, clinks, clinks and Eddie counts the seconds. Before he can reply you slide the solution his way to add the heat and then there's one last chemical you have to add. Your press against his shoulder and bicep, one hand creeping up onto his thigh and then slithering closer and closer to his erection. "Because if you ask me, you look pale? Don't tell me I'm going to be making a second trip to the nurses off today."

Eddie can't fully swallow down the whimper when your hand squeezes at him. He has just enough sense to look up. No one else seems to be watching and he taps for the last dish, right in front of it. You slide it his way, grinning as the liquid turns purple and fizzes a little.

"Looks perfect you too," Mr. Clarkson notes as he slides up to the fron to the bench.

Eddie takes in a giant inhale, praying that he does not look down under the table, lest he catch sight of your palm pressed against Eddie's crotch.

"Easy to get great results with a great lab partner and easy instructions," you beam.

Mr. Clarkson laughs, wagging a finger at you. "Certainly a smooth talker. Since this all set, you two can get a head start on the balance equations review sheet."

"Sounds good. We'll clean this up for you," you offer watching Mr. Clarkson reaching forward for your trays. "You're already done so early," you shrug.

"You can use the sink in the back," Mr. Clarkson states, giving explicit instructions on how to handle the chemicals. You nod, palm slipping just a little down but the pressure is still firm. Eddie focus on his breathe, fingers digging now into the meat of his thighs.

Please God, Eddie pleads. Just walk away.

Mr. Clarkson walks away a few seconds later and Eddie exhales, shakily. You snort and lean into Eddie's ear. "Gonna cream your pants right here? In the middle of class?"

"Why-why are you even doing this?" Eddie hisses out, getting the burner off.

"You're weak and a little pathetic as how much you tried not to get hard with my touching and I think just as weak you are, I'm weak too. Couldn't help myself."

You and Eddie flirted--in hallways, across the cafeteria. It was all really a game. You had an energy that could match his. But Eddie didn't actually think it would go anywhere. It never did. He was the town freak. No one really wanted to openly be with him. He'd been asked on nights after he performed at The Hideout for quickies or managed during the heavy end of 7 minutes of heaven and truth or dare to cop a feel or get a kiss, but Eddie wasn't anyone's type. He was a fun story, a side quest, but never the main adventure.

"Who put you up to this?" Eddie asks, hand wrapping around your wrist. "You can tell them whatever story you need. Don't pity me."

"It's--" you pull away, body and hand. Eddie reluctantly lets your fingers fall from his. "No one put me up to this?"

Eddie's hum says otherwise to your protest. And though he's still hard he takes a quick second to get resituated. "That's what they all say."

"Why did you flirt back? If you're going to say it was a prank?"

"Because everyone needs their story right? It's a fun story," Eddie huffs, taking the dishes to the back sink.

You look around and notice most of the class is still buried in their labs, so you slip stalk over to Eddie. "I like you, dipshit. In case you couldn't tell. We are literally in the middle of class. You think I'd do that for just anyone?"

Eddie's scoff is bitter on his tongue, but his heart thunders in his chest. You like him? What god had smiled on him? And what devil was trying to play a trick? "You like me?" It comes out covered in sacrasm.

You take his wrist and still him. "Look at me." You don't speak again until Eddie's staring at you from behind the goggles. "I like you. A lot. It's why I flirted back. It's why I'd actually like to take you out, if you're okay with it. Dinner and a movie? I'll pick you up at 7."

Eddie shakes his head. "What? You're asking me on a date?"

"As sure as I am Black right now. Friday night?"

Friday, friday--"I run the Dungeons and Dragons club on Friday nights. Sessions can be sort of long."

You nod, hand slipping from his wrist. "What about--"

Eddie interrupts the question, but taking your fingers through his. "I can do Thursday."

"Thursday," you agree.

"And I like to properly wined and dined," he teases.

"So I can't offer that you go to the bathroom first and then I go after you by like three minutes?" you laugh.

"Oh," Eddie grins. "You absolutely can. But it's going to cost you an icee at the theater."

"Sounds worth it."

[yukichouji]

I missed it the first time around!!!! I'd like to hear something about WillPeroPt2 👀👀👀👀👀👀👀 And maybe Waiting to exhale?

Hello friend! :D No worries :) I am sorry it took me this long to respond! Things have been really busy lately. But thanks a ton for your ask 😊

Putting it under the cut, because long xD

WillPeroPt2 is the second part of that The Great Wall series I started :D It is set a little while after the first but still a while before the movie. Basically it's just an excuse for me to write even more character study and exploration of their relationship dynamic xD

Here's a little snippet from it :)

“I still think this is a stupid shitting idea.” Pero mutters, watching the flickering light of the campfire reflect off of the blade of the dagger he’s balancing between his hands, turning it this way and that to keep himself busy. Before lifting his gaze and meeting William’s eyes where his friends sits next to him, legs crossed and going through his arrows one by one, checking the fletching and trimming it into shape where it’s needed. Night is slowly falling around them and the first scouts are prepared to head out as soon as darkness has settled completely. Pero, William and the rest of them will leave shortly after.

“It’s a decent plan.” William says, not moving his attention away from his work as he speaks. He has an aura of focused calm wrapped around himself like a fine mantle, but Pero knows him well enough by now to see the sharp edged blade of an eager, battle-ready mind underneath. The intent in his gaze could cut a man in half if he wielded it too carelessly. Still, Pero bristles at William’s words.

Pero’s shoulder is healed as well as it is going to and they’ve been on the road together for more than half a year, picking up short stints of work here and there along the way. Not yet ready to commit to something more involved than that. William hadn’t been lying when he’d said that he is in no hurry to get to the Byzantine empire and for once Pero is content enough to amble. Some stiffness remains, as Pero had expected, due to the method of treatment, and he now has another scar that aches unpleasantly whenever the weather shifts too quickly or it gets too cold and wet. But it is not going to stop him from fighting. Not for now, at least. And the scar on his face serves well to make him look more dangerous, more like he’s worth the gold he’s asking for his services. So he will not complain about that one.

Still perfectly happy to dabble with this one :) Though I am, as always a very slow writer.

Waiting to exhale is one of those fic I started a long time ago but somehow still like enough to hold onto the hope that I might one day return to it, if the stars align just right. I actually posted most of the chapters that exist for it on my AO3 but I have one more partially wirtten one in my drafts. It's a Gotham Alfred/Jim fic with a pretty weird, abstract air to it? I started writing it in a really high stress phase because I needed a place to put all that strange energy haha Basically Jim and Harvey are investigating cases of areas in Gotham being exposed to a drug that causes weird hallucinations and Jim gets a dose by accident. And stabbed. Because, of course. It's pretty strange and kind of gory, so be warned, but here's a bit from the first chapter that I like. Also, vomit. (Yeah, I was that weird kid in class who thought German Expressionism was the coolest literary period ever)

Jim lifts up his head and spits out his lungs.

They make a dull, wet sound when they hit the grimy tiles. A pale, flesh-colored butterfly, wings outstretched and laced with a delicate latticework of bluish veins.

The surreal tilt of the world topples and cants until he realizes that he’s the one falling and not the other way round. The floor is cold and sticky-wet with the bitter stench of old piss and fresh vomit and the iron tang of congealed blood.

Above his head the door of a bathroom stall hangs ajar on its rusty hinges, crude drawings coming alive on their makeshift canvas, a writhing mess of thick, black lines that slither across plains of pealing, puke-green paint.

This is such a mess, he thinks and slides his eyes back over to the mass of convulsing flesh that should be in his chest but isn’t. Just barely, loosely attached to his body by the windpipe that pulls at the corner of his mouth and winds down thickly into his throat.

Such a mess.

A door bangs open and an overwhelming pool of noise – voices, voices, voices like the buzz of bees amplified beyond reason – spills into his head, and he’s drowning in it, even though his lungs are safely doing their breathing elsewhere.

Someone drops onto their knees beside him and the blurry familiarity of a blunt-edged, age-worn face shifts into his line of sight like an elastic band that was stretched across time and then sharply snaps back into place.

Caught off guard Jim jerks his head to the side and retches until the muscles in his stomach ache and bile soaks warm and biting into the shoulder of his dress-shirt.

A disembodied voice with an oddly out of place English accent curses in a way that would make Jim blush if he weren’t lying in his own vomit on the filthy floor of a restroom in the back of the cheapest joint in the worst part of this godforsaken city.

Ah, this was really fun. Thanks for giving me an excuse to babble about my projects and to revisit some old writing I still hold very dear :) Much love your way! I hope you are doing well and enjoying the pre-holiday season!

[themadsquirrel09]

Find you ☆ Chapter 6

👉 Click here to go to chapter 1! 👀

👉 Or read on AO3 🕯

Fandom ☆ South Park

Ships ☆ KenMan ♡ KenEric (Eric Cartman x Kenny McCormick), Clybe (Bebe StevensxClyde Donovan) and Creek (Tweek TweakxCraig Tucker). There might be some glimpses of other ships.

Characters ☆ Kenny McCormick, Eric Cartman, Wendy Testaburger, Stan Marsh, Kyle Broflovski.

Rating ☆ M

Warnings ☆ Swearing, violence, fluffiness, tegridy. They are aged up here. It starts when they are 14, but happens mostly when they are 18, at the last year of school. 

Chapter summary ☆ Truth or dare?

☆ 1147 words ☆

With love: (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ Stan

When we go back to the house, they are playing truth or dare. I sit beside Cartman, who seems to be more in his usual mood today, loud and obnoxious. Maybe he was just acting differently because he was hyped to meet us again. When he sees me, though, he lets out a soft smile and pulls me close.

“Kenny!” I smile back. I’d totally do him, and when I see the people who surround me, most seem attractive in some way; I would bed at least half of them, given the chance. I giggle at that thought and lean on Eric, he smells like cookies and beer. Sweet. 

“Ken-doll, truth or dare?”

“Dare.” I reply to Bebe, who gets to choose.

“Ok, I’ll go easy on you because you are a darling.” I wink to her, she is one of the few people I feel close to. “Just kiss the person you think it is the hottest in the circle,”

“Oh, a classic!” I say, then look around, humming. When my eyes lock with Eric’s, I don’t even give it a second thought and kiss him as the others cheer and whistle. When I’m done, he looks all surprised and flushed. I wonder if he is already drunk.

We keep playing and end up outside. Stan is trying to climb a tree, he has to scream from the top of his lungs that he is a loser and he is proud; that’s his dare, thanks to Kyle. But he can’t climb because he is laughing like an idiot.

“Come on, Stan! Do it already.” Kyle is getting pissed, which seems just to make him laugh louder.

“Just.” He holds his stomach, “Just let me breathe,” He laughs so much he starts to cough. “You’ll make me puke!” 

“He is really taking it well this time.” Says Cartman, satisfied.

“Right? I feel bad for Wendy though, she didn’t even come.” I check. “Oh wait, she is right there.” Is she drunk? I haven’t seen her like this before. She looks at Stan and her smile breaks; she walks away. Wendy has always been crazy about Stan, maybe too crazy about him.

She is wasted, sad and going on her own, what if she tries to kill herself?

“Hey, Kenny.” Eric holds onto my clothes, looks down and to the side, like he is doubting.

“What is it? Are you drunk?”

“A bit,” He chuckles, “But I wanted to know, did you really mean it?”

“What?” He laughs and I chuckle, but then I remember Wendy. I see her walking away on zigzag. “Let's go with Wendy.”

“No way!”

“Dude, she is wasted and going on her own.” I grab him by the arm and pull him. 

“So? Fuck her!” He seems really pissed.

“I'll go alone, then.” I haven’t finished the phrase when I’m already turning around.

“No, Kenny,” Cartman holds onto me. “I’ll go with you. Don’t get mad, we are having a good time here.” 

“Ok, but promise not to be an asshole,” He laughs, shrugging. "Just try to shut up and we will bring her back with the others.” 

“Alright, let's go,” I grab him by the hand and walk fast. “Kenny, you didn’t answer me.” He says when we are closer to Wendy, she is distracted watching the snow fall; seeing her smile again calms me down. I stop and face Eric to ask him:

“What are you talking about, Cartman?”

“You kissed me. Do you really think I’m the hottest in that circle?” Oh.  

“I do.” He looks down, frowning. “Is that bad?” 

“Do you have a fat fetish or something?” 

“What?” I think about it. 

“So?” 

“Give me a minute, will you?”  I shake my head. “Some people who are fat are also hot to me, but not because of that.” He looks at me doubting and I shrug. I’m about to keep going, but he grabs me by the parka.

“Me too.”

“What?”

“I also think you were the hottest there, Ken.” I grin at him, but he looks away.

“Thanks.” 

“Whatever.” He mumbles, then grabs my hand and we keep going.

“Hey, Wendy!”

“Kenny, Cartman!” She exclaims happily.

Eric breathes out a what as she comes to us and wraps us in a hug. 

“How are you doing?” I ask as I hug her back.

“I don’t know. I think I shouldn’t be called Wendy.”

“Why?” Says Cartman and she giggles. “Ugh, let’s go get something to eat. She is wasted.”

“Hold onto us.” As we go back, she is listing all the names she thinks would suit her better. When we are about to enter the house, Wendy let go of us; right at that moment, Stan gets to the top of the tree and screams:

“I am a loser and I’m proud!” He raises a fist. At that, Wendy bursts into laughter and mumbles what seems an: “Aren’t we all?” Then she sort of hugs herself and starts sliding, like she is going to lay on the floor. I’m about to reach her when I see Cartman grab her and pull her up in one swift motion. She hangs to the side, groaning.

“Come on, Wendy. You can break down later, we gotta eat!” She looks surprised, then gives him a half hug.

“I thought you hated me!” His gaze goes from her to me.

“I thought so too.” They start walking to the house.

“You are so round, Cartman; like a small and angry version of that Baymax bitch.” I burst into laughter and Eric protests and curses, but keeps helping her until we are at Bebe’s kitchen. 

We end up eating, then chilling on the couch. Wendy falls asleep. I light a blunt to share with Eric.

“You like this, right?”

“Yeah, but I get paranoid sometimes, so you have to stay close.”

“Don’t get pissed, but she is right about the Baymax shit.” I say and, as I do, I squeeze him. 

“I guess I can’t complain about that right now.” He snatches the blunt from my hand.

“You have changed, Cartman. What was it?”

“A lot of shit I don’t want to talk about.” 

“Oh. Sorry,”

“It is better like this.” He smiles, then takes a drag.

We keep talking until the sun rises, just a few of us are still awake.

I wish there were more nights like this, I wish it didn’t feel like I’m right in the hurricane's eye.

Prev ☆ Next

[sammy-is-not-smiley]

ok since you were looking for fic requests i have one for a robin x reader!!

reader is hoppers daughter. she dated jonathan for the entirety of freshman year. they broke up but it wasn’t bad. hopper keeps saying how good of a kid he was and how the reader should just get back with him. little does he know, she just wants to be with robin. so one day, she slips a confession note into robins trumpet case to meet her in the janitors closet after school. it goes well and they kiss a little ehe. maybe a part two or in the end she introduces robin as her girlfriend and hopper being confused but supportive 👀

Salty, Then Sweet

Robin Buckley x fem!reader

S4 SPOILER FREE

Summary: After going through the summer of 85' with Steve and Robin, you've had feelings develop for Robin. Now, after a sleepover with her, you suddenly felt the strong urge to confess your feelings. Could she love you too?

Word count: 5.1k

Warnings/tags: Underage drinking, language, PTSD, nightmares, nightmare scene, hurt/comfort, love confessions, Hopper is still in Hawkins after season 3, reader is hoppers daughter, gay kissy, timeline might feel off idk

A/N: I FINALLY FINISHED IT! The longest fic I've finished yet. This one was a lot of fun to write, I hope it's what you were imagining. I went a little off the request and then back to it lol

Butter sizzled in the frying pan, making you jump slightly out of your sleepy stupor. Your father had the heat up way too high on the stove again. He would tell you he liked how the burnt butter tasted, but you knew his pride was just a pill too big to swallow. You sighed heavily and rubbed your eyes, trying to listen to what your father was griping at you about this time.

“I'm just saying, he was a good kid to ya.” 

Oh. Right. This again. 

He sloppily cracked an egg on the stove and thumbed at the shell. “When you two dated he helped you keep a schedule. You were never too out too late, always got enough sleep,” He finally dumped the egg onto the hot skillet, “And your grades definitely saw better days with him.”

“Dad,” You groaned, resisting the urge to let your head drop to the table. “I’m pretty sure you liked Jonathan more than I did, but can we not talk about him now?... Not this early,” You finished under your breath. You hadn’t dated Jonathan Byers since freshman year. The end of junior year was just around the corner and somehow your father still pressured you any chance he got to get back with Jonathan. Your family had a past with his, sure, from small interactions to dealing with the supernatural. But your father's obsession with you getting back with Jonathan was starting to get annoying. You wouldn’t tell anyone this, but deep down you had never felt any attraction to Jonathan.

Your father sighed irritably, “Fine, fine. My point is you’re staying up way too late. You never used to come in here half asleep like this.” He gestured with his spatula and flipped the already overcooked egg. "I get you're young but sleep is important"

"I know."

"I don't even know what you would be staying up doing."

"Mm-hm."

"If this keeps up, though, I might have to take your radio or something-"

“You ever think maybe it’s because I have nightmares?” You suddenly snapped, startling you both.

His spatula froze a moment as if he was taking a second to buffer. His shoulders then sagged and he continued his cooking. You watched as he put fresh bacon, eggs, and toast on your plate then walked over and slid it in front of you. You stared intently at him, trying to gauge his feelings through his expression. It was no use, he rarely wore his emotions on his face. He put his own plate down across from you and allowed himself to fall into the chair. Neither of you touched your food. 

After a bit, your father finally broke the silence. “I didn’t mean for you to get involved in my work,” He muttered, guilt present in his tone. “.... What kind of nightmares?"

You shrugged, gazing down at your eggs. The edges looked burnt, dripping with brown butter. “Those stupid monsters… and the Russians… Having to run for my life, watching Jonathan or Robin die in front of me even though they're still here… Stupid stuff.”

“Don’t call them stupid, they’re normal. You went through a lot… we all did.”

You nodded, thinking back to the events of the past summer.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

You gave a weak shrug, flicking your bacon with your finger.

“How long?”

“Since I first saw one of those things in Jonathan’s house.”

You had been with Nancy and Jonathan when they discovered what they would later call the Demogorgon. You were right there when it somehow entered their house and attempted an attack. Lights flashing and heart beating out of your chest. Ever since then, your nights had never been the same.

“Shit… (y/n) Hopper, you need to tell me these damn things,” Your father chastised sternly, however, you knew this was just how he got when he cared. “I need to know when things aren’t good.”

You smiled bitterly, grabbing your fork. “If I did, I’d start sounding like the boy who cried wolf.” With that, you shoved your breakfast into your mouth. Things hadn’t felt good for a long while.

Your father leaned back in his chair with a heavy, unsatisfied dad sigh, then began going at his breakfast as well. 

As you both ate in silence, your mind still lingered on just a few months earlier. You wished things could have stayed the way they were. Working with Steve and Robin at the mall was one of the best things to happen to you… until it quickly descended into madness once again. Yes, you all managed to stay together despite being kidnapped by the Russian government, but that didn’t make the situation okay. Far from it actually. To add to your trauma from interdimensional monsters, you ended up facing federal agent-level torture. It was the first time you ever felt true terror from the presence of other human beings. It was the first time you ever got beat up and bloodied. But towards the end of it all… It was also the first time you realized exactly what it was you felt for Robin.

While you wanted anything but for Rob to get involved and be put at risk, you felt better knowing she knew the chaos you knew was lurking in Hawkins. You felt better knowing you could go to her about your nightmares, which you did. Quite often in fact. Before your father, she was the only one you ever told. She was the only one you ever called at 3 am. She was the only one you felt like would ever answer.

As soon as you were finished eating, you got up and got ready for school. It didn’t take you long, the sleepless nights slowly forced you to make your self-maintenance routine shorter and shorter. 

School hadn’t felt the same since all of this had started either. Ever since Will had first gone missing, tasks that should have felt normal… didn’t anymore. The feeling always hit you at unexpected times too. While walking down the hallway at school, during dodgeball, while shopping for groceries. You hated how that was no longer your normal and how fighting monsters was. You knew nothing would be the same and a sense of mourning for the past would come over you every time you remembered that. 

---------

Lazily you stared at the blank chalkboard, mind empty, waiting for class to start. Somehow you managed to get to first period on time today, probably because your father had drug you out of bed for the ‘proper breakfast’. You could still taste the burnt butter on your lips. 

“Hey, hey,” An chipper voice pulled you from your gaze. Robin sat next to you, a pile of textbooks thumping on her desk. “You got here before me! You slept better I’m guessing? I mean you didn’t call like usual last night. I hoped that meant you were doing better.”

The night before had been rough. It was one of those nights where you couldn’t close your eyes without seeing one of those monsters blooming their face of teeth at you. You could have sworn you heard one gurgling outside your window at one point. Guilt had kept you from grabbing the phone and calling Robin though. 

“Yep, slept through the night," You swiftly lied. 

She beamed, but it faltered as she leaned in and inspected your face more closely. “You got something on your face,” Her hand came up and wiped at the corner of your mouth, then she wiped it on her pants. “All good. Guess it was some breakfast I hope?”

“Yeah,” You nodded, fighting a smile, “Dad made us both breakfast this morning.”

She beamed once again, this time remaining that way. “Nice! Slept through the night and got breakfast. Look at you, a babe, and with your life together.” She nudged you on the arm, both the compliment and her touch making butterflies rage in your stomach. All you could do is smile in return, even if it was founded on a lie. “Hey, tell you what,” She continued, “Why don’t you come to my house tonight for a sleepover? My parents will be out late on a date so we can have a movie night! We have popcorn and fuzzy blankets-- Oh there's this one blanket I’ve had since I was little that's SO SOFT. No matter how much we've washed it, it somehow stays that way. I'm pretty sure if I ever go to college I would take it with me-” And from there she rambled on, happy as ever. You loved the way her eyes lit up and how her hands went crazy when talking about the things she loved. You were pretty sure you didn’t even get to tell her 'yes' to the invitation to her house.

By the end of class, she gave you a time to be at her house, offering to have Steve pick you up for her. You agreed considering he was the only person out of the three of you with their own car. With plans solidified for that night, you parted ways down the hall, to your dismay. You wished you had more classes with her. 

The rest of the day was a blur and suddenly you were zapped full of energy as if her touch gave you just enough power up to make it until the end of the school day. Another failed quiz didn’t even bring you down like it normally would. Before you knew it, you were getting off the school bus and running down your driveway to hurry up and pack your things. 

----------

Steve was in a rush to get you to Robins as he was already late for his shift at yet another job. You knew his boss would give him shit about it, but bless him for still pulling through for you and Rob. 

You had scrambled out of his car at your arrival, just as eager to get to Robin as he was to get to work. 

Your heart jumped in your throat at the sight of her when she opened the front door. Rob was wearing the shortest pair of bottoms you had ever seen on her. You'd go as far as to say they were boy shorts a size too small. It was compensated with a large baggy t-shirt from band, hand cut into a short crop top and exposing her belly. 

"Hey!" She paused a second and leaned out the door. "The whore didn't bother to walk you to the porch?" 

You scoffed, using it as an excuse to pull your gaze and instead look to Steve's car turning out of the driveway. "Nah, he's too anxious to get to his new flirting grounds." You felt a tingle in your stomach when Robin smirked at your remark. 

Although snickering with her, you were deflecting the situation with humor. You liked Steve, he was sweet and a big dummy, but deep down… you were jealous of him. Jealous of how close he and Robin seemed to be. They always emphasized their 'relationship' wasn't a relationship at all, they were just friends. Strictly and forever platonic. It didn't change the fact you wanted that same kind of closeness with Robin though…. And maybe even closer. 

"Figures," Robin rolled her eyes. "Get in here, make yourself at home." 

You did so, kicking your shoes off and dropping your overnight bag at the door. As soon as you were unencumbered, she jolted and tossed her hands up in excitement. "Oh!! Did I tell you what Steve was able to get for us?"

"No," You shook your head plainly, smiling at her animation. You loved when she did that, even if it was mentioning Steve.

She grabbed hold of your wrist and drug you to the kitchen. Getting into the fridge, she reached to the back and proudly held up a bottle of tequila. 

"Robin…" You whined, "We still have school in the morning, you know."

"I know, I know," She put her hands up in defense, "We won't get drunk or anything, okay? Just a few shots to relax." 

You shook your head in disbelief, taking the chilled bottle from her. "Never thought you, the band kid, would peer pressure me into drinking. I think you're spending too much time with Steve," You jested, inspecting the bottle. Although once again, there was truth in your statement, you would admit spending the night watching a movie and drinking felt like a good plan. 

"What can I say, he's clingy," She shrugged and took the bottle from you to set on the counter.. "Also I didn't know what movie to get so I think we'll just have Breakfast Club on in the background again while we drink and snack and whatever the fuck else we want to."

You nodded fervently, convinced she had somehow read your mind. "Let me change first though, I need to be comfy."

"Sure, you know where the bathroom is."

Walking past the front door, you grabbed your bag and locked yourself in the bathroom out of habit. 

Once you were changed, you couldn't help but stare at your choice of pajamas in the mirror, comparing them to hers. Should you have tried wearing something more revealing? Could you have worn a shirt that figured you better? You about slapped yourself for getting insecure over something as dumb as your pajamas. Quickly, you gathered your things and yanked open the door, the only thing on your mind being shots. 

When you got back to the kitchen, Robin already had the limes cut and ready in a bowl. 

"Let's get wasted… but not," She elbowed you teasingly and began to pop open the bottle. You stared at her hands as she worked the cork off, slender and calculated with a dash of clumsiness thrown in. Her nails were painted but scuffed and her rings gleamed slightly in the fluorescent light. It felt like forever before she got the bottle open. 

Right as she was about to pour the liquid into shot glasses, you stopped her. "Can you… just give me the bottle?" 

She froze, wide-eyed at you. "... You sure?" 

You nodded. Although surprised at yourself, you were ready for the anxiety in the pit of your stomach to drown in alcohol. 

Hesitantly, she handed you the bottle. As soon as your hand connected with the cold glass, you tossed it back in two swift swigs, treating it as if it were water. Your regret was prompt as soon as you swallowed, your eyes going wide and coughs bursting out uncontrollably. 

"Take a lime, take a lime!" Robin laughed, shoving the bowl of limes at you. 

You quickly brought one to your mouth, although you were pretty sure it was too late, the desperation on your face evident. 

"Damn, (y/l/n), never took you for the type…" She gawked at you, mouth slightly agape. It wasn't often you left her genuinely in awe of your actions. 

You wearily tried to smile, but it caused your face to twist into a lopsided grimace, making both of you split your sides in laughter. 

"Alright, fair is fair," She mumbled, swiping the bottle from you and copying your actions. The result was entirely the same, just reversed. You were now the one laughing at her as you pushed the limes to her. 

The night went on like this. Against your better judgment, you kept gulping straight from the bottle. In between swigs, you tucked the bowl of limes and the bottle in some pillows between you both on the living room floor along with the snacks. The mixture of alcohol, popcorn, and candy sat uncomfortably in your stomach, but it didn't matter. The way Robin laughed when she drank was priceless. It made the butterflies numb the slurry in your stomach. You wanted to hold on to these moments forever. By the time Robin finally took the bottle away from you and back to the kitchen, you both weren't quite drunk, but you definitely weren't sober. 

Before you knew it the movie credits were rolling and Robin was checking her watch. "Damn, mom and dad are probably on their way home." She stood from the nest of pillows and blankets on the floor and lifted her arms to stretch. The movement revealed more of her torso, her sports bra peeking out ever so teasingly. You quickly looked away before she caught you staring up at her like a freak. Little did you know, she already had and smirked to herself, cheeks heating slightly.

"We gotta be in bed by the time they get here or they'll be pissed. Ya know, school night and all," She mocked goofily. 

You cleaned the living room and kitchen together and managed to finish up just as a pair of headlights appeared in the driveway. You both dashed up the stairs, racing to the bedroom together prudently. The front door opened just as you closed her bedroom door, making you both giggle like a couple of middle schoolers. In all honesty, her parents wouldn't have been all that upset if you two were still up. But it was still fun to make a harmless game out of it. 

When the lights went out, you fell into a night of sleep faster than you had in months. Although you were sure the alcohol helped, you felt the safest sleeping next to Robin in the bed. Knowing she was right there made all your worries fade into the background, barely seen or noticed. 

----------

It's so cold. 

"Keep running!" A voice screamed at you from behind. 

Something galloped behind you in hard impending steps. It was getting closer… And it felt like it had been for a while. 

You sprinted through the woods, terror powering every stride you took. You couldn't bring yourself to glance back, for fear you'd catch sight of the creature pursuing you and the other person with you. 

Your head throbbed, blood pulling through your veins at an alarming rate. You didn't know where you were, which filled you with even more dread. 

Branches and bushes clawed at your skin like fingernails, leaving burning scratches in their wake. 

The creature behind you roared, the sound rumbling deep into your gut. An approaching doom that was so close, yet somehow it hadn't arrived yet. 

Suddenly a scream ripped through the air and reverberated down your spine. 

Skidding to a stop, you looked behind you for the first time. A stiff body lay on the ground as a demodog feasted on the ripped-open belly. Blood. Blood was everywhere. On the leaves, the body, the demodog's face, your shoes, the trees… everything suddenly now sheened with fresh blood. 

You watched helplessly as the limp body began to slowly turn its head to you and you fell to your knees in anguish. 

Robin. 

Robin was being eaten alive. 

"Please…" She pleaded in a broken sob, however, her face showed no emotion as if she had already passed on.

You felt yourself breaking down on the inside, tears freely streaming down your face. Why didn't you reach for her behind you? Why did you leave her instead of running side by side? This was your fault. You were the reason for her suffering. You lost her because of your own selfishness.

"I'm sorry," You tried to cry out to her, but the words wouldn't form. Your throat felt like it was closing up. It stung and the breath was stolen from your lungs.

"Please…" She croaked again, blood beginning to leak from her eyes resembling the cruel form of tears. "(Y/n)..." Your name echoed from her in barely a whisper. 

Your weeping was uncontrolled now and you attempted lamely to crawl to Robin’s aide. 

The demodog suddenly stopped and trained its attention onto you. Although it had no eyes, you could have sworn it was looking into your very soul. Like it knew your guilt. 

It gurgled and chittered menacingly, blood oozing from its odd lips in thick, viscous drips. It stepped over Robins's body, stopping and standing over her as if she were its property. 

Its mouth blossomed wide in rows of teeth, Robins's flesh and blood splattering forward to the ground. A roar bellowed deep from within it, making the trees around you tremble in some sort of earthquake. 

"(Y/n), please!!" Robin's voice screamed out at you. "Please, wake up!!" 

The demodog lunged forward at you at terrifying speed. 

"Wake up!!"

You awoke with a violent jolt, nearly tumbling off the side of the mattress you were on. Your eyes were suddenly no longer closed but wide open, darting around you for any sign of danger. Before you could get up from the bed and try to run, as was usually your first inclination after a nightmare, you felt the pressure of someone sitting on top of you at the waist. A pair of warm hands caressed your face at the sides, forcing you to look straight up at who had pinned you down. 

Robins horrified but compassionate face looked down at you, her shoulders heaving in breaths as quick as yours. 

"Oh thank God you're awake," She muttered, swiping your cheek with her thumb. It was cold and wet. Tears. "You started sobbing in your sleep."

The fear subsided slightly and the emotions came flooding in full force. It was all a nightmare… None of it had been real. "Oh god," You choked out, bringing your trembling hands up to her wrists. "Rob, th- that was… The worst one. That was the worst yet," You couldn't hold anything back, you couldn't stop the tears from flowing. She was okay. She wasn't dead because of you. 

"Shit," She let out in a breath, then leaned down, pressing her body weight completely onto you in a type of hug. 

You wrapped her in your arms and squeezed, both relieved she was okay and terrified of thinking of ever losing her. You tucked your nose into her shoulder, sobs racking your body in brutal tremors. She was so warm.

"I’m right here… I’m here…I thought they were getting better," She said nearly in a whisper. You felt her slide her hand to the back of your head and begin stroking it soothingly with her fingertips.

"They never were," You confessed in messy uneven breaths. 

And that's where she left it. She didn't say another word to you that night, but you didn't need her to. The fact that she stayed there, pressing herself to you like a weighted blanket was enough. The pattern of her breathing was enough, the clean smell of her shirt was enough, the way her hair tickled your face was enough. Under her, you slowly could distance yourself from the images of the nightmare and you felt safer and safer. Only that way were you able to finally calm down and gradually let yourself fall into another slumber, tears still wet on your face.

----------

Beep beep beep beep

Robin's morning alarm… Right. You both still had school. 

Your heavy eyes broke open to meet Robin's sleeping face mere inches from yours. Although no longer on top of you, she still had you pulled to her body by the waist, legs in a tangled mess. 

You leaned over and hit snooze on her alarm clock, thankful Rob was one of the heaviest sleepers you had ever met. 

The pillow cradled your head again and you lay there, staring at her lovingly. You watched her eyes lightly flutter in her sleep, her eyelashes thick and perfect. Her hair was an absolute bird's nest and it made you snicker to yourself. Then the events of the night before surfaced in your mind. 

You had woken her up with your nightmare. God, it must have been really bad to have woken her up. Shame hollowed into a pit in your stomach and you pulled away from her touch. 

You weren't sure how much longer you could take this. The nightmares weren't the only thing that had been eating you up inside for months. Every day your chest ached over Robin. Every day you wondered if today would be the day you would say something. It never was, but it was getting harder to keep it that way. 

You loved her… and you wondered if maybe she could love you too. 

After the night before, feeling her intimate touch when you were at your worst… hearing her lovely voice in your ear to ground you again… you knew you couldn't keep how you felt a secret anymore. Something had to be done. That felt like the breaking point.

You untangled your legs from hers and got up to begin getting ready for the school day. You were going to let Robin sleep a little longer, considering you kept her up the night before. The only thing keeping you going that morning was the fact that you could walk to first period together. 

----------

Your bedroom door creaked open behind you and was paired with a quiet knock. "Hey, kid, how was Robins the other night?" Your father asked.

You paused your writing at your desk and didn't turn to look at him. "Good." 

"Good, good… Sorry I had to work so late last night." It was quiet for a moment. "You… have any nightmares at her place?"

"No," You lied. 

"Oh… really?"

“Really,” You nodded. Only then you turned to look at him. "She makes me feel safe, dad." You weren't going to try and hide everything from him…. Considering you were going to hide the note you were writing from him, you had to let some truth slip. Half-truths were going to have to be the compromise to keep your conscience quiet.

Your father simply nodded back at you, then told you he was heading out for work early that morning. You weren’t convinced he was fully appeased with your conversation with him, but you had other things on your mind to think about. 

After his leave, you continued your writing. 

Your hand ached as you wrote everything in a note. When the feelings started, the jealousy of Steve, the fear you had deep down that the feelings could ruin your friendship with her, her presence in the nightmares, your nightmare at her house, all of it. Nothing was held back. Once it was all written out and physically there in front of you… It scared you. But you weren't going to let that dampen the determination you felt to get this over with. 

You asked her at the end to meet you in the alleyway next to the running track as soon as she was done with band practice. Once she knew everything, you needed to talk to her face to face. It felt like the final battle. The most telling moment.

After that, you let your pencil hover over the bottom line, hesitating to sign the note. In the end, you decided the leave it unsigned. All you could imagine was the worst-case scenario. The look of disgust Robin could have when she read it. You trusted she would know it was you based on the context and that she wouldn’t spread rumors. But if someone else were to find the note, you didn't want it to be traced back to you. This information had the potential to ruin the rest of high school for you both. 

Tentatively, you folded the note and slid it into an envelope, sealing it with an ice cream cone sticker. It felt fitting. 

Checking the time once you were done, you grabbed your things and went out to wait for the bus.

----------

At the end of the school day, you snuck into Robins's band practice in the gym, scouring for her trumpet case. You recognized it immediately and quickly slipped the note into it, heart beating loudly in your ears. 

As quietly as you snuck in, you snuck out and made your way outside to the alleyway. You pressed your back to the cold brick and slid down, picking at your nails anxiously for her arrival. 

You hoped the band director wouldn’t keep them long that day. The last thing you needed was to be sitting out there until dark or something. You missed the bus for this, so walking home in the cold at night was definitely a possibility. Sure, you could call your father, whether at the police station or at home depending on the time, but you knew he would drill you with questions as to why you were at school so late. You didn’t have the mental energy for an interrogation like that. 

Before long, you heard the gravel crunching under the steps of someone approaching to your left. Too nervous to look, you kept your eyes trained on your hands in front of you. Behind them, a pair of beat-up red converse came to a stop. The person wearing them didn’t say anything, but you knew exactly who it was. Sheepishly, you raised your eyes up to meet Robin’s staring down at you. She offered a sympathetic smile and lifted the piece of paper with your handwriting on it. However, she didn’t say a word. 

You raised your brow at her. “What do you want me to say?”

“Can you stand up?”

A sigh pushed out of you and begrudgingly you stood from the ground to face her. You hugged yourself, telling yourself it was because of the cold. 

Robin shifted the paper in her hands and looked down at it, her expression unreadable. She was quiet, and that was out of the norm.  

“I meant all of it,” You vacillated quietly, the silence between you both feeling too tense. 

She nodded. “I know…” She looked up at you, eyes softening. “Can I tell you something?”

“Of course-” You were cut off by her body crashing into yours, pushing you against the brick, and her lips meeting yours. For a moment you went wide-eyed, but it didn’t take long for you to close your eyes and melt into the kiss. You felt like you were spinning as her lips fitted perfectly to yours, dancing together in a choreography that only you two knew. Her hands snaked around your waist, the letter falling to your feet and your hands found themselves weaving into her hair, pulling her face to yours as if you two could get any closer. 

She was the first to pull away, warm breaths tickling your cold face. If your cheeks hadn’t been rosy before, they definitely were now. 

“Did that make sense?” She whispered after a moment, a worried smile growing on her face. 

You smiled back and put your forehead to hers as you cradled her cheeks. “Absolutely,” You giggled. “And I loved every word.”

[iamasimpingh0e]

would love to make a request please.

connor being jealous after seeing reader and jay together remembering jay was once reader's ex 👀

Words: 689

A/n: this is really shitty and I'm sorry

"Halstead and y/ln! I want you two to drive to meet to ask the victim some questions." Voight said as he passed the team in the bullpen.

"Okay let's go." Jay handed you your jacket as you two were about to head out.

Your team caught a case about woman trafficking, due to one of the victims being able to run away.

She was found in the middle of nowhere, badly beaten and only half alive. Luckily a truck driver saw her on his way into Chicago, which leads you to the situation you're in right now.

Walking into the ER you eyes locked with Maggy's right away as she walked towards the two of you.

"Hey, I bet you are here to see the girl?" She asked the two of you.

"Yeah, we are" Hay went to answer for you.

"Alright follow me."

You walked behind Maggy and Jay left his hand on your back to guide you through the small corridor.

It was more of a comforter for him, knowing you were with him and safe, after you had found yourself in a hospital room a couple of weeks ago.

Unknown to you, your fiancee Connor had seen this and didn't really like the way Jay touched you.

He wasn't the jealous type because he trusted you, but knowing that Jay and you had a history made his stomach drop.

He couldn't help himself but wonder, if you'd leave him if you had the chance to get back together with Jay.

With a grumpy look on his face, he turned around and went into the doctors lounge for a short break and to get his mind off of those things.

After you and Jay had asked the victims some questions, you went out of the room.

"Hey, I have to ask Connor something. You can wait in the car, okay?" You said to Jay.

"Yeah, I'll wait."

So you went into the doctors lounge, because you knew that's where Connor would be.

He might think that he was sneaky but you saw the look he gave you and Jay and you know that look.

It was the same look, tour first boyfriend had given you before he broke up, because you had 'too many guy friends'.

Then your second boyfriend did the same and the third one did too.

It was like all male people had the same one and you would always recognize the situation.

Jealousy, the main cause of death in a relationship.

But this time you could kinda understand Connor. Jay was your ex and, to be completely honest, you would be jealous too if Connor suddenly appeared at your work place with his ex. But Connor knew there was nothing going on between you anymore, aside from being partners and friends.

You and Jay went apart on good terms. You both had the mutual feeling about your feelings fading, so you called it quits and stayed friends.

"Hey." You greeted Connor as you stepped into the lounge, seeing him sitting on the couch with his phone in his hand.

"Hi," He grumbled.

"What's wrong?" You asked which finally got his attention.

"Nothing? You think somethings wrong." Oh, was he serious now?

"Cause I know that look, and you're acting like a bitch right now." You told him.

"Oh I'm acting like a bitch right now? You're the one who walked in here all flirty with your ex while your fiancee is working."

"Oh god, you know there is nothing between me and Jay anymore, babe. And you know that you're the only one I want." You went over to him and sat down onto his lap with your arms around his neck.

"Yeah?" He asked with a teasing smirk.

"Yeah" You whispered back.

"Well you might have to show me then." He simply commanded.

"Hell no, you're at work, I'm working too, but I'll definitely show you when we're at home." You winked at him as you gave him one last kiss before you stood up again.

"See you later, babe." You sang in a sing-song voice as you left the room.

[omoghouls]

Can you write one were Vladislav is seducing Y/N for sex and he notices you have to pee and Vladislav teases you and makes you hold it while riding his dick in his torchure chamber? YN is completely into it. How the accident/release happens is up to you

👀👀👀👀 oh HELL YESS

Perhaps you are one of the ones who the vampire's have deemed "not food" or maybe until this point you've lucked out.

But, here you are, seated in the parlor with the eldest of the vampires, Vladislav. He's talking about, well, honestly you aren't quite sure, you've long since stopped listening to the words of the vampire.

There is bit more of a, pressing matter at hand. If there is one thing about vampires, it's that they don't quite understand, or maybe they just have long since forgotten just how much a human can drink. And, you had been given glass after glass of what you can only pray is some sweet red drink.

Now here you are, ankles crossed as you shift your weight on the couch, wondering where the washroom was in this flat. Just praying for a moment you could excuse yourself.

Which, perhaps tonight was where your luck ran dry. As when you were lost in thought, as the medieval vampire has leaned in close to you, a tilt of his head sends a shiver down your spine; inches away from the man, his dark eyes piercing into yours.

"Is something distracting you?" Vlad ask.

Was it vampires that could tell when you're lying, or was that a Sphinx? You glance to the side for a second before saying, "Oh, nothing just, have to take a leak is all," you say, attempting to keep a nonchalant exterior.

"Oh? So soon?"

Fuck, that tone of surprise and hint of playfulness just instantly goes to your nethers. You swallow and watch as the vampire stands with a stretch.

"You humans, three drinks and you have to piss," Vlad muses, "almost like evolution is make you humans weaker," a smile creeps over his lips, sharp canines bearing, "but, I certainly don't mind that."

You roll your eyes, now unsure if the warmth you feel lower is a leak or something else.

"Maybe other humans but," you stand as well, biting back the slight gasp as gravity takes its effect, "I like to think maybe I'm the underlier."

Vladislav looks at you, his eyes trailing over your body, you try to keep a straight posture. Eventually there is a gleam in his eyes as he makes a gesture for you to follow him.

"Then I suppose you can prove that to me, yeah?" He says as you both walk down the hallway and down a set of stairs.

Excitement fills your chest, for a moment you forget your growing urgency as Vladislav opens the door to his chambers.

You cock your brow, "You're not going to hang me on those are you?" You half-jokingly ask, pointing to the hooks that dangle idly above.

Vladislav shakes his head as he leans against the wooden table, "Nothing too drastic, but, perhaps you can prove that stamina you seemed so boastful about," he says, looking to you before pulling you close.

His hands roam over your hips, lowering his touch to your thighs. You gasp when his strong hands slip between your upper thighs, it takes all your might to keep from bucking at the clothed touch.

You look to him with a nod before Vladislav slowly pops off the buttons of the slacks, taking some of the pressure of your swollen bladder. You stand there for but a moment, eyes wandering over the old vampire's body as his cock springs free from his pants.

He smiles, hopping onto the padded table, beckoning you to come closer. Vladislav helps you up.

You kneel above the man, your legs quiver slightly as he spreads them so you're sandwiching his legs between yours.

"Do we need a-?" You ask.

Vladislav shakes his head, "Nothing can be given, except pleasure."

Properly lubricated, you slowly lower yourself down on the hardened member. You hiss as the thick cock opens you, soon that slight uncomfortable sensation turns to pleasure as he twitches inside you.

You whimper, feeling Vladislav's member pressing against your overfilled bladder. His calloused thumb slowly rolls against your taut skin, smiling at your little noises as your rock your hips.

"Now, little dove, show me just how good you are," he coos, "how long you can hold it for me."

The challenge approached, your determination, perhaps stubbornness is better suited as you wish to prove him wrong, that you aren't going to piss yourself all over him.

Slowly you lift your hips, keep a rhythmic beat as you ride the vampire. Each slap back to his base sends warning pangs from your bladder, the ache soon becomes a warmth of added pleasure. You clench around Vladislav for a moment, heart thudding against your chest as you feel the very first leak spurt out.

"Mmm, getting difficult to hold?" Vladislav says, both hands now wrapped around your hips, "You want to let go so bad, take alll that is in you, a built pressure and just, let go, just like a human does, huh?" He teases with a low grunt as he lifts his hips up without a warning.

Your breath hitches at the sudden movement, another leak escapes, the pale fluid trickling around Vladislav's member. Fuck, it feels so nice, so good.

"V-Vlad," you moan, clenching your teeth as his fingers move lower.

"Mhm?"

He knows exactly what you want. But, like hell he's not going to have you say it.

"F-fuck I-I can't," you whine, "I'm- I'm going to-"

Vladislav grins a small nod of permission as he lower you back fully on his cock.

Your bladder finally gives out. Urine hisses, splattering all over yourself and the vampire beneath you. You swear, you can feel your bladder shrinking as it all pours out.

Drenched in piss, you feel the final twitch of Vladislav's cock as he comes, a new warmth filling you as the last jet of urine joins the rest onto the table. You shudder as the orgasam blooms and spreads throughout your quivering body.

With a wet pop you slide off of the man's member, the two of you lay chest to chest. Although his heart beats slow, you can still feel it as you both come down from the bliss.

Both of you lay there for a while, sharing panted breaths until things settle back down.

"That, that was," you pause to find your words, "nice."

Vladislav chuckles, looking to you with a grin, "That it was, and, you certainly lasted longer than I thought you would."

You smile, your chest puffing up in confidence, "Well, you definitely didn't make it easy."

"Ooh I went easy on you, next time I won't be so courteous."

Next time, the rings in your ears.

Eventually you two sit up, Vladislav wraps his robe around your body before you two wander back upstairs for a well needed clean up.

[penaltbox]

i know you did one for bords but 51 with him seems so fitting 👀

51. “Please stop rolling your shirt sleeves up; it’s terribly distracting.”

__

the sun hangs low in the sky as you finish getting your makeup put on after basking in the heat at the beach all day. thomas has some song you've never heard playing at a slightly unreasonable volume, but that was typical with him and it only made your vacation more comfortable and fun.

you move around each other as you get ready, him being done far sooner than you but still invading your personal bubble like he always did. he steps out of the bathroom as he slips his shirt on finally, claiming he needs more room to get ready than what you were giving him.

you peak around the corner and see him doing the last button of the short sleeve dress shirt and you swear your mouth starts to water. he always looked good but something about the way his tan skin played off the silky black material had you staring shamelessly at your better half.

"baby?" thomas asks, biting back a smile as he catches you.

you blush slightly and clear your throat, "i'm ready for dinner if you are."

he nods but heads back into the bathroom one last time, his hands finding your hips with a squeeze as he kisses your cheek and steps around you. you grab your clutch from the bed but realize you forgot the bracelet thomas had given you for your anniversary. you never went anywhere without it on.

"one second, babe," you announce, entering the bathroom but stopping immediately.

thomas is looking in the mirror as he rolls the sleeves of his shirt up a bit and you have to bite your lip to keep composed. he takes a second but finally realizes that you've basically frozen in place.

he chuckles lightly, "are you okay? you're being so weird tonight."

you finally break your gaze from his bicep that was now well encircled with the black sleeve, "please stop rolling your shirt sleeves up; it’s terribly distracting."

"is that all that's wrong?" he smirks, turning towards you and pulling you close. his arm wraps tight around your waist, pinning you to his chest.

"we won't make it to dinner in time at this rate. i don't think the others will be happy about that," you say, an empty threat that you don't care to follow through on.

thomas hums, leaning down and gently biting your bottom lip. you let out an airy moan and grab his shoulders.

"fuck dinner. i've got plenty to eat right here," he whispers, pinning you back against the bathroom counter.

you gasp as he lifts you onto the ledge and steps between your legs, "are you sure? we might be able to be quick."

"let's find out," he smirks, leaning in for a kiss that makes your heart pound.

dinner could definitely wait. you needed to see about getting your hands under that tight black shirt first.

[cinnamon-bunni]

I wrote this in like an hour and a half lol so that might be a new record Also I wrote this a few hours after finishing Infinity Train, and I just knew I had to write something because I love Ryan and Min-Gi so much,,,so this fic was made Idk if I'll write anything for this fandom, but I certainly wouldn't be opposed to the idea of writing more 👀 Anyways, hope y'all enjoy it! <3

Rating: G Pairing: Ryan/Min-Gi Word Count: 2.1k Read it on Ao3!

Min-Gi found himself awake, lying in bed. Not that he had a good sleeping schedule to begin with, but he knew that he should really be asleep. It was getting close to midnight, and he had school in the morning. But he couldn’t get his mind to rest. Although, that was always a task he seemed to struggle with.

His mind always tended to wander at night. To thoughts about what his parents wanted, to what he wanted, to what Ryan wanted–his brain always seemed to like to stress him out more at night than any other time of day. He covered his head with his hands, as an attempt to silence his thoughts and to just rest. It, as every attempt, did not work.

His thoughts were interrupted though, when there was a knock. Not on his door, no, because his house was dead quiet, with everyone else in his family sleeping by now. The knock was against glass, and he immediately knew it came from his window. And he immediately knew that it was Ryan who was knocking.

And so Min-Gi threw the covers off, and went across the room to the window. And sure enough, he was there. His room was on the second floor, but that never stopped Ryan from entering through the window. A simple climb from the convenient ivy that grew on the side of the house made it possible to get inside of the house without having to go through the front door (Min-Gi was sure that the only reason his parents haven’t cut down the ivy like they had everywhere else was because they knew Ryan used it all of the time).

Min-Gi gave a smile when he saw Ryan, who was wearing a similar look on his. Min-Gi opened the window–slowly, to be as quiet as possible–and tried not to react when the bitter cold wind attacked him.

“Thanks dude,” Ryan said, not being as stealthy as he climbed in. He struggled a bit, his guitar case getting a bit stuck for it couldn’t completely fit through the window, but after a bit of shifting it around and being as loud as possible, he got it through.

“Can you try and be a bit more quiet?” Min-Gi whispered. “My parents are right down the hall, you know.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Ryan replied, seemingly not caring too much, but he still lowered his voice a bit. “But I also know your dad is a pretty heavy sleeper, so I’m not too worried.”

Min-Gi closed the window, and Ryan jumped onto the bed. Min-Gi winced at how loudly the bed squeaked. “Is there a reason you’re here so late?” he asked. “We have school tomorrow, and it’s already almost midnight.”

“I mean, well, you were awake, so…” Ryan gave a shrug. “I was bored.”

“C’mon, you’ll have to give a better excuse than that,” Min-Gi said. “I mean, aren’t your parents worried about where you are?”

“Psh, don’t worry about that! I snuck out, I doubt they even noticed I even left.” Ryan’s smile shifted into an uncomfortable grin, as he shifted a bit in his spot and started to fiddle with the sheets with his hands. “I mean, I don’t think they’d really care, anyway.”

An uncomfortable silence filled the air, with Min-Gi not knowing what to say. Luckily he was saved though, because Ryan’s smile came back (one that shined less, Min-Gi noticed, but he decided to leave it alone).

Ryan patted a spot on the bed next to him. “C’mon, sit down! I brought something for you.”

Min-Gi of course obliged with the request, and sat down. But, Ryan didn’t move. “Uh,” Min-Gi started, not sure what to do or say. He stretched the back of his neck in nervousness. “What is it that you have?”

But Ryan didn’t answer. Instead, he seemed content staring at Min-Gi’s digital clock. 11:59 the clock read, the low red light doing little to illuminate the room. At least the light from the moon poured in through the window, letting Min-Gi see Ryan’s determined look on his face.

“Ryan? What are you doing?”

“Just a few more seconds…” he said, eyes narrowing on the time. Min-Gi started to grow more nervous as they waited, not knowing what Ryan was doing or what he had in store. And if he knew Ryan, it would most likely not be anything good.

“There!” Ryan shouted the second the clock had changed, a large smile on his face, while Min-Gi immediately shushed him. He took off his guitar case, and placed it on his lap. Unlocking it, Min-Gi furrowed his eyebrows when it was revealed that Ryan’s guitar was not where it should be. The case was empty, except for the small container that was placed in the vacant spot that the guitar was usually held.

Ryan reached in and took out the small tupperware. “It is now officially the next day,” he said, kicking his guitar case down to the ground to make room.

“Yeah? That’s how time usually works. Ryan, what are you-”

“And today is a very special day,” he interrupted, shoving the tupperware into Min-Gi’s hands. “Go on, open it! I promise I didn’t do anything to scare or prank you, I promise.”

Min-Gi hesitated a bit, worry clearly plastered on his face. But Ryan was still giving him a happy smile, hands resting in his lap when he shifted to sit criss-cross on the bed. Min-Gi moved to mirror his friend, and opened the plastic container.

His eyes widened a bit when he saw the cupcake inside. “Pretty rad, right?” Ryan asked excitedly. “I made it myself. Well, my sister helped me a bit since I kept ‘messing up with the measurements’, but I still think I did a good job!”

Min-Gi made sure to be careful as he removed the cupcake, as to not ruin the frosting on it. Blue frosting coated the sweet, with red gel that looked to be sloppily applied, but he was still able to read the number 18 on the cupcake. He couldn’t help but smile down at the dessert.

“Min-Gi Park, you are now officially an adult,” Ryan said, giving a small, playful bow. “I wish you a very joyful birthday.”

“Isn’t it your birthday too?” he asked with a grin.

“Of course, but technically you were born first, so you’re officially an adult before I am.”

“I mean, if we’re going by specifics, my official birthday wouldn’t start for like, a few more hours. So I’m afraid you’re a bit off with the time, Ry.”

“Eh, what’s a few hours to the endless time of being an adult!” Ryan said with a shrug. “We are taking this time to celebrate you! So let me do that, ‘kay Min?”

“If you say so,” Min-Gi replied. He looked back down at the dessert, and he could feel his heart practically warming at the idea that Ryan had gone out of his way to make something for him.

“Are you sure you made this?” Min-Gi asked, a teasing smirk on his face. “I feel like your sister did and you’re just taking the credit.”

“As if! You wound me Min,” Ryan said, grasping his chest. “I made this for you, only to doubt my gesture? The audacity!”

“I mean, you never were one to bake anything good-”

“The audacity!”

The pair started to laugh. Min-Gi made sure to be careful with the cupcake, but still shook as the laughter coursed through his body.

“Oh wait! I something else, just a sec,” Ryan said, the second his laughter died down.

“More? Ryan, this is already more than enough,” Min-Gi said.

“Nope, nothing’s ever enough for you, Min!” Ryan replied as he fumbled through his pockets. “Aha! Here it is.” He pulled out a small, blue birthday candle, and placed it hastily into the frosting. He then brought over a lighter, and lit the candle. “There. Make a wish, buddy.”

“C’mon, it's your birthday too,” Min-Gi said. “How about we make a wish together?”

“I mean, if you really want to, I certainly won’t turn down a free wish.” Min-Gi gave a smile at that, and decided to ignore the blush that was starting to grow on Ryan’s face when their eyes met. “On the count of three, okay?”

“Alright. One…”

“Two…”

“Three!” The pair blew out the small candle together, and the two couldn’t stop smiling. It made Min-Gi’s heart flutter a bit whenever he saw Ryan like that, to see him truly happy.

“What did you wish for?” Min-Gi asked. He was answered with Ryan pushing his pointer finger against his nose.

“Silly Min, wishes don’t come true if you say them out loud!”

“Right, right, my bad,” he said with a roll of his eyes. “I forgot how seriously you take your wishes.”

“What, and you don’t? Min, how are any of your wishes supposed to come true if you say them out loud and break the one rule of wishes?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be more careful from now on,” he said with a small chuckle. “And I hope you know that I won’t be eating this right now.”

“What! Why not?"

“Because it’s just past midnight?” Min-Gi offered. “I can eat it later this evening when we officially celebrate our birthdays. My mom made some cupcakes for you to take home and eat. They even have those weird, popping rock candies you like so much on them.”

Ryan’s eyes practically shined. “Pop Rock cupcakes? Sweet! Min, your mom is officially the best person to exist ever.”

Before Min-Gi could say anything to reply, he was interrupted with the door swinging open and the light being flicked on. Min-Gi let out a small yelp in surprise, and the two immediately reacted negatively at the sudden light.

“I should have known it was you, Ryan,” Mrs. Park said. Min-Gi couldn’t look over at his mom, both from the shame and embarrassment from waking her up and disrupting her sleep, and from still trying to adjust to the bright light.

“Sorry, Mrs. Park,” Ryan said, rubbing his eyes. “Just wanted to be the first person to wish Min a happy birthday.” “While that’s nice Ryan, I would appreciate it if you didn’t come around during this time of night,” she chided. “What if something happened to you during your walk over here? Do your parents even know that you came over here?”

“I mean, no, but I don’t think they really mind all that much-”

“And what did I say about using the front door?” Ryan gave a sigh at that.

“Sorry, Mrs. Park.”

Min-Gi was now able to finally see. He had to squint a bit, the light still attacking his eyes, but he was able to see how discomfited Ryan was.

“Sorry Mom,” Min-Gi offered. “I tried to be sure we were quiet, so we wouldn’t wake you.”

She gave a sigh at that. “It’s alright Min-Gi. Ryan, if you wanted to come over, tell us so we could’ve made arrangements.” Ryan just gave a quiet nod.

“I guess–I should really get going now,” Ryan said, jumping off the bed and scooping up his guitar case. He headed over to the door. “Nice to see you Mrs. Park. Sorry that we woke you up.”

She blocked his path though. “What, and send you home at this hour? Of course not! You don’t know what kind of people are out there on the streets at night!”

“My house is only a few blocks away, I think I can manage-”

“Come, the guest room is still set up from the last time you were here. You can rest there for tonight. We can just leave earlier in the morning to grab your things for school.”

Min-Gi could see how Ryan relaxed at those words. “Really? Thank you, Mrs. Park.”

“Mhm. Just don’t make this a habit, okay?”

“Of course.” He looked over his shoulder, giving Min-Gi a smile.

“Guess I’ll see you in the morning then.”

“Yeah. Um, good night, Ryan,” he said, giving a small smile of his own as Ryan left down the hall. When Ryan was gone and his mother headed back to bed, he gave a sigh as he let himself relax. It was nerve wracking, and he felt guilty for waking his mom up in the middle of the night. But he still found himself smiling when he looked back down at the cupcake that he still held. He got up to place it down on his desk, and turned off the light. He got comfortable in his bed, determined to get to sleep before he had to officially get up for school.

And he found that, thanks to Ryan, the worrying thoughts left him alone for the night.

[roughentumble]

Perfectly Titillating, v2

Geraskier, explicit, 3k, on ao3

SUMMARY:: just an excuse for some chest worship, after that bathing scene in s2. you all know the one 👀 we're ignoring any negative associations jaskier may have for being tied up, i just wanted to write something horny. 

(when i wrote this fic i accidentally went a little hard on geralt calling jaskier's chest his "tits". i wasnt sure how i felt about it, so i created a second version with very minor edits where i removed all but one reference to them being "tits", and this is that version. if you think that the word "tits" is/could be hot and fun, feel free to view the original, posted here)

@greyduckgreygoose asked to be tagged when this fic was uploaded, so i’ll be tagging her in both versions. and @hale-of-stiles-heart just because i get the vibe she’d wanna be tagged :3

FIC::

Yes. This, this feels right. When they'd first kissed again, it had been slow, soft, filled with trepidation both of them wondering, would the other feel the same? Had time and fights and reconciliation changed things? Where were they allowed to touch, how far could they go, a gentle testing the waters. Geralt's hand had shook where it cupped Jaskier's cheek, and his own didn't fare much better, clutching at Geralt's shoulder. Hesitant lips and trembling breaths both met in the middle, but as they both sank into the kiss, it became obvious there were no reservations, no hesitations. Just want, just yearning, just the feeling of coming home. Desperation had taken over, and now as Jaskier is shoved onto the bed in a flurry of motion and need, everything just feels right.

Geralt's on him in a moment, straddling his hips and kissing him breathless all in one fluid motion. He licks his way into Jaskier's mouth with fevered determination, and it makes Jaskier shiver, already drunk on kisses. Heat pools in his stomach, licks up his spine, flares to life at every point of contact between them, and Jaskier needs more, nails digging into Geralt's back and fingers kneading at his flesh, as if he could somehow drag him even closer, like the weight of him might somehow quell the rising need under his skin.

Geralt's hands rest on Jaskier's shoulders, another point of contact pressing him down onto the bed, grip almost bruisingly tight as he rubs at the straining muscles through Jaskier's shirt. Then one hand is wandering up, tangling itself in Jaskier's hair and pulling and it's perfect, perfect, Jaskier's spine bowing off the bed as he gasps and leans into that glorious tug, feels his toes curl with delight, feels the pull all the way down his back, electricity crackling.

Geralt pulls away for a moment, watching, eyes dark with desire as they linger on the curve of his torso, twisted into an arch. "How much do you like this shirt?" Geralt asks, somewhat randomly if you were to consult Jaskier, and he blinks dumbly as he attempts-- unsuccessfully-- to pull Geralt back into a heated kiss.

"It's a pretty good shirt, not my favorite but certainly not the worst thing I own, why--" Geralt lets out a growl, takes two fistfuls of the shirt right near the collar and pulls just enough to strain the fabric so it creaks pitifully.

"How much," he asks again, pointedly, voice a low rumble, "do you like this shirt?"

A thrill goes through Jaskier as he understands what he's being asked. "I fucking hate it."

Geralt grins, and tugs, and it's like the shirt is paper in his hands the way it rips down the middle with no effort at all. Jaskier gasps, stomach fluttering pleasantly as the tatters of his shirt come to rest on his now bare chest. Geralt takes a moment to tease, fingers tracing the frayed edge so they lightly skim across Jaskier's overheated skin, and he twitches and squirms away from the feather-light touch. "Geralt, please," he begs, but Geralt takes a few more moments to explore, hands groping at his half-exposed body, before he finally takes pity. He grabs the remains of the shirt and tugs it down hard and fast, yanking it down Jaskier's arms.

It bunches at his elbows awkwardly, drawing them together and getting stuck there. He moves to fix it, but then pauses, staring. "Geralt..?" Jaskier asks, chest heaving, head cocked in question. With his elbows trapped together behind his back, his chest is pushed up and out, with nothing to cover it, no way to twist away from Geralt's gaze. He watches as Geralt takes his pose in, expression growing hungrier by the moment, hand fisted in the fabric of his ruined shirt to keep him pinned on the spot.

Geralt rearranges them just a bit, shuffling so he's kneeling on the bunched up fabric, keeping Jaskier pinned but both of his own hands free. He takes just a moment to shed his own shirt, barely taking his gaze off the prone body beneath him. Geralt watches him, eyes dark, and slowly drags a single finger down his body, collarbone to belly button, then back up again. Anticipation skitters across Jaskier's skin, leaves him flushed and heaving.

"You taunted me with this on purpose." Geralt says, voice a low rumble, finger trailing back up to circle one exposed pec. It sends a thrill up Jaskier's spine, and he bites his lip, tries to hide his eager panting.

"I don't know what you're talking about." he replies, then squirms a bit beneath Geralt's iron grip.

"Teasing me. Had no reason to take your shirt off, to wade in so deep and yet leave all this exposed." His fingers skirt over sensitive skin, too light to be fully felt, gentle enough to raise goosebumps  in their wake.

"When have you ever known me to tease?" He says just to rile Geralt up, reveling in the look that flashes through his eyes.

Geralt grabs him by the jaw, forces his head back a bit, caught in his grip. "You're a brat." he rumbles, thumb coming up to rest on Jaskier's lower lip, pressing lightly as if testing the plumpness. His lips part easily, little huffing breaths escaping between them. "I'm gonna take my time with you... really savor it." His fingers release Jaskier's jaw to trail down his exposed neck, following the sensitive line of his veins down to his collarbone in a caress. Jaskier shivers to be touched somewhere so delicate, could swear he can feel his heartbeat in his throat, the ghost of Geralt's touch, the gentle pressure, lingering long after his fingers have gone.

His palm comes to rest in the center of Jaskier's chest, and he buries his fingers in the wealth of hair there, curling them into a fist and tugging. Jaskier moans and arches further, following Geralt's pull, relishing in the gentle ache. He does it again, just because Jaskier seems to like it so much, then he lets go and pets the skin soothingly.

His hands trail down farther, tracing the point where chest gives way to rib, that sensitive little patch of skin on the underside of Jaskier's pectorals. He cups his hands under both sides, holding and framing them, lip caught between his teeth as he stares down at the tableau beneath him.

"Wish you could see yourself from this angle," Geralt says, squeezing them just a bit more, so they stick out more prominently. "how pretty your tits look." Color immediately rises to Jaskier's cheeks and he inhales sharply, the crass word throwing him off-guard.

"They're, they're not--" he starts, tripping over that word as it catches in his throat. His arms yank in their bonds, trying to cover, but there's nowhere for them to go.

"What, pretty? Sure they are." Geralt teases, playing dumb as he squeezes again, pushes them up and together. "Prettiest tits I've ever seen in my life. And they're all for me, aren't they?" Jaskier whines, flushed red high on his cheekbones, and tilts his head to the side as if attempting to hide. He isn't usually shy in bed, but Geralt just does something to him.

Geralt keeps his touch feather-light for as long as he can stand, tracing whorls and patterns across Jaskier's skin, watching as he squirms. "Fuck, you're so beautiful..." he mumbles, more to himself than to Jaskier, but it makes him suck in a breath anyway. A finger trails down to circle an areola teasingly, watching as it slowly peaks and hardens beneath his touch. "How often do people touch you like this?" Geralt asks. It's not a sensation Jaskier's all that used to, and it makes his stomach flutter.

"Often enough, I get plenty in my bed--" He cries out as Geralt suddenly pinches his nipple, harsh and punishing on the unsuspecting flesh. He stops as quick as he started, thumb petting over it soothingly.

"How often." His tone brooks no argument, and Jaskier lets out a shaky breath.

"They don't, really," he admits, "they don't bother."

Geralt growls, as if the statement personally offends him. Perhaps it does. "Idiots. They don't know what they're missing." He ducks his head down, nuzzling at Jaskier's chest affectionately before taking his other nipple in his mouth. He laves his tongue over it gently, lapping and suckling, and Jaskier moans again, a helpless, unrestrained sound.

Geralt cups the breast not in his mouth, callouses dragging over sensitive skin, finally moving with purpose. He massages and squeezes, kneading the flesh, petting it eagerly, careful not to miss a spot, his mouth never quitting as it works in tandem with his fingers. He catches the nipple between his teeth and rolls it, tugging back on it just so, and Jaskier keens.

He squirms under the onslaught of both at once, breath coming in weak pants, arms tugging uselessly at their cloth prison. He wants to push him away, pull him closer, urge more out of him, something. But he cant, so there he continues to lay as Geralt torments him, switching sides in an apparent interest in keeping things even.

It's like there's a direct line to his dick, each squeeze sending sparks of pleasure down his spine until they stop to settle at the base of his throbbing cock, trapped and neglected in his pants, tenting them as an ever-growing wet spot soaks the front.

He finally gets his footing, planting his heels in the bedding and arching up, as if he could press more of his chest into Geralt's mouth, pleas for more falling from his lips. He doesn't come close to dislodging him, but Geralt gets with the program anyway, pulling his mouth away so he can knead them both equally.

He doesn't go far, though, lavishing wet kisses over all the free skin he can reach. Up to his collarbone and then back down, down, until finally he focuses on a single patch of skin and bites. Jaskier yelps, but Geralt doesn't let up, sucking and nipping at the same patch of skin until a bright red hickey blooms across the pale skin of his chest. "Fuck, Geralt," Jaskier moans as he looks down at the spot, skin tingling where his mouth had just been.

"Geralt, please," he begs, though he isn't sure what he's begging for, hips shifting endlessly to make his smalls rub against his dick just so. Geralt's uninterested in bringing anything to an end, though, interest instead sparked by the hickey on his chest. Over and over Geralt leans down, working another pretty red mark into his skin as he grows ever needier, skin alive and tingling with each love bite left behind.

Geralt kisses him again, on the mouth, and it does something to quell the frantic thrum beneath his skin, but then Geralt pinches both nipples and rolls them, leaving Jaskier to pant into his mouth, all finesse lost. Something about that sort of touch fills his stomach with butterflies, it's so sensitive but in such a different way from anywhere else on his body, and he gulps for air when Geralt finally leans back.

He doesn't go far, though he does twist himself to retrieve something from the nightstand-- a bottle of oil. "So fucking gorgeous," he says, "most beautiful thing I've ever seen." And oh, the butterflies are back but for a different reason now.

"Geralt," he breathes out. All his words have left him, it feels, and he struggles to find them. "You-- you too, so gorgeous. So good to me. Always so good to me. Please touch me, please?"

"Fuck yes, anything you want, baby. Just one second, alright? Gonna get myself off, then we'll make you feel good." He fishes himself out of his pants and his smalls and gives himself a few perfunctory strokes. He pours a generous amount of oil in his palm-- then waits, warming it before it touches Jaskier's skin. It's a little detail, but it makes him feel so cared for he almost coos... but then Geralt's tipping his hand over, pouring it across Jaskier's chest.

He works it in, makes sure everything's coated, and briefly Jaskier worries about how much it's going to suck to clean out of his chest hair, but then those glorious hands are rubbing at him, and the smooth glide across his hypersensitive skin makes his mind go blank. "Fuck, should've started with this." Geralt says, both hands massaging Jaskier's chest enthusiastically.

He seems to snap out of it after a moment, though, to the sounds of Jaskier's moans, and he-- somewhat precariously-- procures himself another handful of oil. "Don't worry, Jask, just a bit longer, okay?" He coats himself in the oil as well, hissing slightly as he finally makes contact, then wipes one of his hands on the thigh of his pants, to middling effect.

"What... what are you--"

"Gonna fuck your gorgeous chest." he says, and just the thought has Jaskier's dick giving a rather interested twitch in its confines. "Is that okay?"

Jaskier's head lolls back as he moans, loud and unrestrained. "Yeah. Yeah, yes, fuck, please."

There isn't really enough there to actually fuck, and it's awkward trying to move into position while also keeping Jaskier's arms pinned, but Geralt manages, squeezing Jaskier between his thighs to force the flesh together. He has to press his palm overtop of his dick to actually form a tunnel to fuck, but the effect is still obscene, and Jaskier cant help the little punched-out noise he makes with each thrust, heels scrabbling for purchase in the sheets.

"Geralt." Jaskier whines, arching up into his touch. "Geralt, I- I want you to cum on my chest." Geralt groans like he's been shot with a crossbow.

"Don't worry, baby, that's exactly what I'm gonna do. 'm gonna give you exactly what you want." he says, panting harshly.

Jaskier can't decide what to focus on, Geralt's face, his thighs, the flex and clench of his stomach muscles as he thrusts, but what he keeps coming back to is the head of Geralt's dick, framed on either side by his own pecs. The angle's a bit steep, but he can't tear his gaze away, and the constant rubbing is making his own dick leap in his pants, almost certainly ruined now from the wet patch forming at the front. It chafes, but he can't find it in himself to complain when it's all so good.

It doesn't take long, anyway. The sight of Jask spread out and eager, chest puffed out so perfectly and slick with oil, desperate tears clinging to his lashes, is all practically enough on it's own to tip him over the edge. The tunnel he's created is slick, but the chest hair drags just right on the underside of his cock, rubbing against where he's most sensitive, and his balls drag through the mess just right. The room is filled with obscene, wet sounds and harsh panting as he chases his orgasm, sweat beginning to drip down his spine. "Geralt," he hears, and he looks up at Jaskier's face, beat red and panting as well, making sure to plead as perfectly as he can. "P- please... please cum on my pecs."

"Oh, f- fuck," Geralt mutters as Jaskier's words push him over the edge. He groans so loud that it fills the space, and he pulls his hips back, jerking himself through the aftershocks. The first spurt of cum hits Jaskier on the collarbone, gives him a pretty pearl necklace, but he makes sure the rest decorates his chest, and they both let out a groan when they look at the finished product.

He takes just a moment to catch his breath, then he says "Your turn now." as he walks backwards on his knees, shuffling down to sit on Jaskier's thighs.

Geralt's knee's off the fabric now, but it's gotten all twisted, and his body feels too heavy to lift off his arms, so he remains as pinned as when they started. It only takes Geralt a moment to get Jaskier's pants down around his thighs, and then Geralt jacks him hard and fast and tight and perfect, exactly what he needs. His toes curl so hard his foot cramps, and he can't stop the weak little 'ah, ah, ahn's that fall from his lips. He's been so needy for so long that being touched directly makes his head spin.

"Look at yourself." he says, voice harsh, and Jaskier's head snaps down, looks at his cock angry and red, at how it disappears and reappears in Geralt's grip with each movement, at the mess smeared across his chest. Geralt follows his gaze, then slowly he leans down, and licks a long wet stripe up Jaskier's chest. Jask can see the cum collecting on his tongue as he does it.

Jaskier's head slams back against the pillows as his orgasm tears through him. A ragged moan is pulled from his chest, and he regains his faculties just in time to look down and see Geralt smearing the cum on his hand across Jaskier's chest, one final addition to the mess they've made. Jaskier moans and collapses against the bed like a puppet with its strings cut, mindless of how uncomfortable it is to lay on his arms.

They must sit there for a full minute, panting and puffing like racehorses. then Geralt's moving him oh-so-gently, picking him up like a rag doll to finally free his arms, setting his coat and ripped shirt aside. He lays Jaskier's arms beside him, gently massaging feeling back into his shoulders, each movement tender and careful.

Geralt wipes him clean and the cool water against his abused chest pulls another moan from his lips, but Geralt doesn't linger long. Just gets him stripped and cleaned up, then tugs some blankets over him to protect him from the cold winter air.

"Feeling alright?" Geralt asks gently, and even though his arms feel useless, he manages to open them up, tops it off with a show of grabby-hands.

"I will once you come join me." Jaskier replies, and Geralt's smile warms him up almost as much as his body does.

[scalproie]

idw megs, i wanna hear ur thoughts 👀

Sometimes I feel you read my mind💖

favorite thing about them: So when I read mtmte/lost light I'm like. Wow. Megatron is such a great character and you really sympathize with him and his redemption arc is pretty cool and somewhat well-handled and even the simple fact that they're giving a redemption arc to MEGATRON of all characters is pretty daring on itself. Idw Megatron in general really makes you feel the tragedy of his character. And also he's looking very pretty thanks to his design by the very gifted Mr. Milne and later Mr. Lawrence.

least favorite thing about them: AND WHEN I STEP AWAY A BIT FROM MTMTE/LOST LIGHT I'M LIKE... ok so a big appeal of mtmte to me was how it was essentially a story about a bunch of nobodies, and unless you were a pretty big transformers fan to begin with, the main characters didnt really meant anything to you if you were a casual. You might knew Rodimus, Ultra Magnus and Ratchet, but they werent really... the transformers' most known characters, or the main ones. So bringing MEGATRON into the picture is like... he's A VERY BIG player in the cybertronian war, and he's like, the second or third most well known transformer, and suddenly the story has to resolve around him, because of course it does. Yknow that arc where the ticks that feeds on charisma just, spontaneously combust when he and roddy enters the room? That's it that's part of my problem, he's too big, he's a vortex of attention, and he just arrived so I don't really... care about him? And while that may change later because of his exposure, bringing him into the spotlight steals it from Rodimus, and it's extremely unfair to Roddy tho I'll admit I still have secondhand frustration about that. And then, it's not HIS fault per say, but because transformers will always hurt me when something good is going on, the rest of his development and ending (the ending of mtmte/lost light in general really) felt aborted and rushed because the reboot was on the horizon, and his redemption in particular really wasnt one to rush. Speaking of, I have no problem while reading it but. When I think about it, I am kinda :/ about him having a redemption on principle, it simultaneously feels like yeah the story succeded in selling it but also Not Really :/ :/ :/

favorite line: "I've heard it said that we only gain wisdom through suffering, and tonight I intend to make you very wise" because. come on.

brOTP: putting this in brOTP but I am not blind and I can see that he and Ultra Magnus/Minimus have A Vibe

OTP: I'm a very boring person who rarely multiship and I only like an extremely specific flavor of megop so. there you have it. you know I latched onto that one spacetime phonecall.

nOTP: I KNOW. I KNOW that if he had been ANYONE ELSE I would have NO PROBLEM with it I KNOW IT but there's something that simply prevent me from seeing him with Rodimus

random headcanon: okay it's been a hot minute since my last mtmte/lost light/idw re-reading so I'm kinda drawing a blank here.

unpopular opinion: he's very divisive so I feel every opinion on idw megatron is an unpopular one, but at the risk of repeating what I said above, I am kinda :/ :/ :/ at the fact that he gets to go on forever multi universal adventures with the rest of the cast at the end of the comics. Especially after the basically second chance at life he had in the functionist universe. Like, I get why but Idk I feel I wouldve enjoyed him more if he had been a temporary addition. But he was there for more than half of it and just. So much was dedicated to him. So. :/

song i associate with them: im so mad I KNOW there was a perfect idw megatron song but its been two years and I CANNOT remember it

favorite picture of them: panels that vibe check you into oblivion

[lossie92]

Hello again! I do hope I am not bothering you with the repeat anons, and if I am please know that I am so sorry. Don't feel obligated to respond if you don't wish too but I just wanted to say a few things.

First off, I'm so sorry you have gotten the virus, I completely understand where you're coming from with the lack of energy. I have cystic fibrosis which comes along with cronic pain and exhaustion so for the two plus weeks I was sick with the rona I think I was awake an average of 4 hours a day lol. I was lucky enough to have no lasting symptoms and I wish all the same to you. May you have a speedy recovery and your symptoms be mild, I'm sending you all the love 💗!

Second, I'm really thankful to hear your thoughts when it comes to darker or more triggering subjects, especially rape. I am 100% of the opinion that writing is complete fiction and a should be a safe space to explore and work though your thoughts and experiences. However, correct usage of tags are essential so that people are aware of and can currate what they wish to see or not see. The author needs to be aware of what kind of material they are creating and how it comes across. I don't want to get to personal, so I'll just leave it at thank you for spreading awareness about victim blaming in the rape culture we live in. Fiction is fine until it affects someone's reality.

Onto a more positive note, I wanted to thank you again for all the wonderful work you've put out into the world! I don't know what it is but since I've found your blog something clicked and I've gotten my spark back. I'm creating things again and I'm so happy to do so! I haven't written for anything besides school content and scientific papers in years and yet I've written so much in the past few weeks, just fun, stupid stuff I don't have to turn in for a grade or even show anyone if I don't want to! I've gotten out my old bags and boxes of yarn and half finished cross stitch projects and I'm so full of ideas I could just cry. I'm hoping to possibly make something based of one of your pieces if that would be alright? It's totally fine if not though, I would never want to steal someone's work!

I know I probably sound like a broken record at this point but once again, from the bottom of my heart, thank you 🥰.

If you feel up for answering a question, here's a silly one: Pineapple on pizza, yay or nay? Or, what is the weirdest food combination you enjoy?

Hi there! Sorry for the late response, I wanted to be at least a bit coherent when responding to you. Hope you don't mind 😅

You're not bothering me at all! I actually really like getting your messages. Totally a highlight of the day!

Thank you for the well wishes! I feel much better now. Still fatigued af and coughing, but that's not all that different from the usual lol. I was awake more or less the same amount as you tbh and I still have to nap during the day, because I feel like shit otherwise. Hopefully it gets a bit better with time. Fingers crossed and all that.

Also, I hope you are feeling better now?

Thank you for saying that. I means a lot 🥺❤️

Omg I'm so happy to hear this! Yay to you for getting inspiration back! I'm glad I could be of help in that! It's awesome~! 😄 Yes, you can use one of my pieces as long as you credit me. I'm actually REALLY excited to see what you come up with (if you decide to share it ofc) 👀

I used to like pineapple on pizza, actually. Haven't had it in a long time though so my taste might have changed. When it comes to the weirdest food combo, I enjoy savoury dumplings with beetroot salad on the side. Tbh I don't personally consider this weird, but I have been told by other people that it is weird so🤷

[queensconquest]

@safaerax​​​​​​ said: “ you won’t win. “ // hc @ fx 👀

( ANGST PROMPTS )

   Feng  Xin  coughed  as  dust  filled  his  lungs  ,  spitting  out  blood  as  his  armor  dragged  across  the  ground  while  he  pushed  himself  up  from  where  he  was  on  the  ground  till  he  was  at  least  on  his  hands  and  knees.

   “  You  think  I  don’t  fucking  know  that  ?  “  He  scowled  ,  wiping  the  blood  from  his  mouth  even  as  he  lifted  his  head  and  stared  at  the  Ghost  King  defiantly.  He  knew  that  and  it  did  nothing  to  quell  the  fires  of  determination  in  his  gaze.  “  Does  it  look  like  I  give  a  FUCK  ?!  You  were  a  soldier  ,  you  should  fucking  know  that  going  into  a  losing  battle  doesn’t  change  a  damn  thing.  “

   But  Hua  Cheng’s  presence  was  really  pissing  him  off.  Not  that  it  didn’t  to  some  extent  normally  but  his  casual  ,  almost  smug  demeanor  was  salt  in  the  wounds.  His  issues  with  Mu  Qing  he  could  get  ,  but  hell  he’d  made  sure  that  brat  was  okay  and  this  was  what  he  got  ?  An  arrogant  ghost  who  thought  he  was  the  only  one  who  cared  ?!  Fuck  that.  If  Feng  Xin  was  going  to  deal  with  this  entity  on  everyone’s  tail ,  he  might  as  well  spit  it  all  out.

   “  If  it’ll  help  His  Highness  ,  then  so  be  it  if  I  won’t  win.  Anything  I  can  do  to  help  him  will  be  worth  it.  Because  here’s  a  FUCKING  NEWS  FLASH.  “  Feng  Xin  snarled  as  he  clutches  onto  the  wall  to  push  himself  up  to  his  feet.  “  You’re  not  the  only  one  who  cares  about  His  Highness.  And  for  all  your  knowledge  and  tricks  ,  you  don’t  know  SHIT  about  me.  You’re  not  the  only  one  whose  suffered  !  I  don’t  know  all  the  details  , fuck  I  probably  don’t  even  know  half  of  what  Mu  Qing  knows  about  you  or  what  happened.  I’m  sure  it  was  awful.  But  you  don’t  know  shit  about  me  either.   I  didn’t  want  to  be  a  god  ,  i  would  have  happily  died  for  His  Highness  too.  Even  after  ordering  me  away.  I  still  would.   And-  And-  FUCK  ,  I  know  I’m  not  perfect.  But  I  try  my  best.   The  point  is  ,  asshole  ,  you  aren’t  the  only  one  who  fucking  cares.  “

   He  slumped  for  a  moment  ,  clutching  at  his  chest  before  scowling  at  him.  His  anger  had  always  led  to  him  spitting  out  aggressive  facts  and  insults.  But  what  did  it  matter  if  he  might  die  ?  And  it  was  true  and  it  seemed  no  one  else  was  going  to  deck  him  in  the  face  with  facts.  

   His  hands  lowered  to  his  belt  ,  fumbling  with  the  buckles  before  he  pulled  Hóngjìng  in  its  sheath  free  from  his  waist.  So  many  centuries  of  history...  Feng  Xin  stood  upright  ,  forcing  his  feet  forward  as  he  shoved  it  into  Hua  Cheng’s  hands.  He  clenched  his  jaw  ,  swallowing  the  emotions  as  he  stared  at  the  king.

   “  You  take  this  back  to  His  Highness.  It’s  his  anyways  ,  and  he  loved  it.  He’d  be  devastated  if  something  happened  to  it.  You  take  it  back  to  him  and  give  it  to  him.  “  Feng  Xin’s  voice  was  steady.  This  Hua  Cheng  might  do.  Because  if  he  didn’t  ,  Xie  Lian  would  be  devastated.  And  no  matter  what  ,  if  it  appeared  or  it  didn’t  ,  it’d  be  proof  of  something  happening  to  Feng  Xin.  But  at  least  he  could  finally  give  him  the  sword  back.

   With  that  ,  Feng  Xin  straightened  his  bac  as  he  grabbed  his  longbow  ,  nocking  an  arrow  as  he  began  walking  towards  the  cavern.  “  Get  back  to  him.  I’ll  buy  His  Highness  and  everyone  else  some  time.  Besides.  I  don’t  have  to  win.  I  just  have  to  distract  and  hold  it  off  long  enough  ,  yeah  ?  “  How  much  time  he  could  buy  in  this  state  ,  Feng  Xin  wasn’t  sure.  But  even  a  few  seconds  could  be  enough.  The  god  didn’t  look  back  at  the  Ghost  King  as  he  walked  away  ,  already  focused  on  his  task.