#i'm mostly just thinking out loud here...

[kkuras-gamer-gf]

Want a hit? | Daniela avanzini

Sorry ite so late, i had a series of unfortunate events but things have finally settled.

Smut. Not a series in that its one continuous story but a universe where I'll write one shots based on. Name ideas for said universe?

College frat boy Drug dealer!dani, g!p dani, fuckboy futch Dani, blowjob, her dick is huge, head pusher. Short but i wanted to post this finally.

It had been while since you last went to a party, the crowded overly loud spaces overwhelming. But tonight your friend Manon was insistent that you came with her, convinced you'd have a good time if you just came, so you did. Mostly to prove her wrong and say you told her so.

As soon as you walk up your skull vibrates to the beat of whatever song was blasting, the smell was a mix of weed, alcohol and sweat from the crowded group of college students dancing.

According to Manon, the house belonged to the local drug dealer Dani and was a frat house of her and all of her friends, throwing parties every weekend with all the drugs and alcohol you can think of.

You didn't know Dani personally, sure you smoked some of the weed Manon got from her, you had found the latina to be somewhat of a fuckboy after hearing many stories around campus about her plethora of partners.

Admittedly the details of the stories intrigued you, you wondered if it was all true. If she really was THAT good in bed, if the biggest dick in school rumors were accurate. So when you walk in your eyes immediately look around for her, even if you would never approach her yourself in a million years

"I'm gonna find Sophia." Manon says, breaking your focus from the crowd and rushing to find said situationship.

Looking around as you take a deep breath, your eyes settle on the upstairs which didn't have many people. Grabbing a drink before heading up the stairs and finding a quiet room, when you finally find an unlocked door you enter a dark room with a couch and a tv, lit by a lamp by the couch.

"Hey." A voice startles you, a familiar one that makes your heart beat a bit faster especially when you look up to her. It's Dani. You now notice she's sitting at a table in the corner, a scale and weed neatly packed into bags.

Baggy jeans hang on her hips showing off the band of her luxury boxers (and a noticeable bulge that your try to ignore), an t shirt loosely on and a backwards hat adorning her head.

"Oh- hi." You get out, flustered.

"You know, it's usually off limits up here for parties." As she takes a drag from the blunt between her fingers, eyes raking over you and if you didn't know any better you'd think she's checking you out.

"Oh, um I'm sorry. I didn't know, i just-." A slight panic at the idea of her being upset with you, turning to reach for the door again.

"Relax Mami. I can make an exception." You can hear the smirk in her voice.

You face flushes at the name, the way it came out of her mouth turned you on to an embarrassing degree.

Opening and closing your mouth not knowing what to say, you land on a meak "Okay.", fingers fidgeting as you try to look at anything but her smirk, and the way her eyes stare at you, deciding to sit on the couch.

"Not having fun?" She teases, standing and walking towards you.

"Yeah. I mean no, i am. Having fun." You mentally curse yourself, hearing a chuckle from the girl.

"You're cute. And a liar" The teasing tone getting louder as she sits on the couch next to you.

"I hate parties." You confess, "No offense."

"Well you've never experienced one of mine." The look in her eyes a bit mischievous. "Want a hit?" She asks, holding the blunt towards you.

You reach a hesitant hand, grabbing it and putting it between your lips. You can feel her eyes boring into you the whole time, watching ypur fingers move to your lips, a cocky smile on the whole time.

Though an experienced smoker, your lungs betray you making you cough

"Good?"

"Me or the weed?" You couldn't tell if she was worried about you or wanted a review of her supply.

"Both?" She laughs.

"Good. I feel good." You get a little hazy, grabbing the blunt back when her hand stretches towards you.

"I've seen you around campus, you're Manon's friend right?"

"That's me."

"You have a name?"

"Y/n."

"I'm Dani."

You laugh at her introduction as if she's not the campus drug dealer and fuckboy known by everyone, making her look at you with a confused smile.

"I know. I think everyone knows you. People talk." You get more comfortable as the weed takes over, an ease falling over you.

"Yeah? What do they say?"

"Oh just that you had a good supply." You regret bringing it up, not wanting to admit that your head is stuck on how big her dick is or how good she would fuck you if you asked.

"Really? That's it?" She asks, amused, she knows the people things say about her.

"Yeah."

"Come on Mami, tell me the truth." The energy changes suddenly, Dani's eyes darkening a bit. You know she knows, about your crush you have from afar, maybe its the weed but you stopped caring.

"I heard you're a fuckboy, the rumor is that you don't disappoint. That you can prove yourself in bed."

"What else?"

"That you're...bigger than average." You mumble.

"Speak up baby."

You knew she heard you, Dani couldn't help but want to hear you say it again. The bulge growing between her legs, restraining against her jeans.

"That you're bigger than average." You repeat louder.

"Would you believe me if i said it was true?" You hardly notice Dani get closer as she speaks.

"No" You stare right back at her now, you dont know what comes over you, challenging her obviously confident and dominant personality.

"No?"

"I'm a big believer in evidence."

The smirk grows on the blondes face, hands going to the button on her pants as she glances around. Unbuttoning and pulling down the zipper, your heart is beating so fast you think it'll stop that is until she pulls her jeans boxer down just enough to reveal her cock.

And no it wasn't like the rumors, it was bigger than that. At least 9 inches, thick and heavily veined, a warmth floods between your thighs. You can't help but drop your jaw at the sight, your eyes flickering between her eyes and her cock.

She was hard, her length landing at her belly button, liquid leaks from the red tip, when you finally fully look at her eyes she nods her head to her cock a silent plea to take care of her.

You can't help but reach your hand out, wrapping your fingers around her, instantly hearing a sigh come from her lips. It was kind of pathetic how much it turned you on when you noticed how little of her cock was covered by your hand, suddenly you worried you couldn't handle her.

"What? Too big for you?" If it were anyone else the smirk on her face would disgust you, but it made her even more attractive, but you dimiss her with a shake of your head

Hesitantly you move your hand, easily gliding up and down as you collect the pre-cum dripping down. A series of swears leaves the blondes mouth and you quickens the pace.

After a second, you give in to what you know she want, leaning down as your tongue darts out to lick a stripe from her base to the tip before wrapping your lips around it.

"Fuck." Dani groans, a hand immediately tangling in your hair and keeping your head in place.

Taking more of her into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks, only a third in and you feel full. The hand on your head pushes slightly, another couple inches filling your throat, only about halfway through. You gag at the suddenly, eyes starting to water.

"That's it baby. Take it all."

Her hand pushes down once again while her hips thrust upwards, forcing the rest down your throat, your nose hitting her skin as she holds you there. Her fingers tightening and pulling at your hair causing you to moan around her length.

"Good girl. Taking my cock so good." The Latinas hips lazily thrust into your mouth.

The sounds in the room were filthy, the sound of your mouth around her gagging as you take her length, wet sounds accompanying sloppy upwards thrusts that hit the back of your throat with every push.

"You're making such a fucking mess." The Latina breathlessly says, staring at the saliva dripping off your chin onto her boxers.

You weren't even doing any working at this point, simply a something foe her to use, her hips mindlessly thrusting into your mouth, eager for a release.

"Fuck" a groan leaves her lips as her pace gets faster but sloppily, she was close, "can i cum in your mouth baby?"

Nodding to the best of your ability, taking her a bit deeper in the process, tears now running down your face and mixing with your drool.

"S-shit" Her hips stuttering as moans leave her mouth, her hand tightens in your hair causing your scalp to sting, pushing your head so your nose stays pressed to her stomach while her cum fills your throat and leaking out onto your chin.

It takes her a bit before she pulls out, some of the liquid spilling before she collects it with her thumb pushing it back into your mouth.

"Swallow it all."

"Mm" A moan involuntarily leaving your as your tongue swirls her finger.

"Good girl."

Out the corner of your eye you see her pulling up her pants as your catch your breath.

"Does this mean i can get a discount?" You joke.

"I'll consider it." A grin forming on her face as she buttons her pants, standing to go to the table and grabbing a ziploc and extending it out, "on me. But full price next time." She jokes.

"Thanks." You grab it, finger tips brushing against hers, though you had just given her a blowjob it somehow felt more intimate. Silence overtakes you as you fiddle with the bag, "um, i should find Manon. Don't want her getting in trouble." You walk and open the door.

"No number?" She calls out after you.

"Don't you like a challenge?" You throw back at her as you head down the stairs, the blonde leaning in the doorway to watch you a smirk adorning her face.

You both knew this wouldnt be the last you saw of each other.

[murderbot-moodboard]

Okay, first thoughts on Murderbot (below the cut for light spoilers):

- I like that the show is emphasizing some of the things that are easy to forget as a fan who's read the whole series multiple times. Murderbot is a killing machine. It does consider killing everyone a legitimate option. It is not a human, it's a corporate product who's been forced to take a very pragmatic view of life due to its harsh experiences. All of this is good soup.

- Skarsgård as Murderbot is endearingly awkward and I'm really loving his performance!

- All the PresAux characters seem to fit pretty well with their book characterizations, and the small changes/additions only enhance their characters imo. I love them all and am gobbling up their added lore like Hostile One tried to gobble Bharadwaj (too soon?).

- Something that was never spelled out in the books but has been discussed by book fans is that Gurathin is kind of a human counterpart to Murderbot, and most of the things Murderbot dislikes about him are traits Murderbot itself has to some degree. The show seems to me to be deliberately playing up this theme, such as by having Murderbot and Gurathin react with similar disgust to Arada's comment about Murderbot's face, and showing Gurathin getting uncomfortable watching the visual of the throuple making out. I think this is a great choice and am really looking forward to seeing how their dynamic develops from here.

- Also, Gurathin is definitely acting more clearly like an asshole than in ASR, and that choice not only makes his character and the overall interpersonal dynamics more interesting, but it gives Murderbot a chance to make all sorts of snarky comments in its head which are very funny.

- Interestingly though, Gurathin is the one insisting on it/its pronouns for Murderbot early on, which could look like him being antagonistic but I suspect might be shown to fit Murderbot's preference later on. Also he is now show-canonically from the Corporation Rim, which is something that was sort of maybe implied but never actually confirmed in the books, despite its being the more popular fanon interpretation. (Fwiw I think it's the more interesting choice so it's nice to have confirmed.)

- Giving Mensah panic attacks seems like a good strategy for reflecting her inner fears and sense of responsibility in a way that translates better to TV.

- I laughed out loud at Pin-Lee's snark at the corporates, and I'm really interested in the way they're being fleshed out as a character who is aggressive but with a softer side, to paraphrase something Sabrina Wu said.

- Arada seems pretty similar to book characterization, and I love that we get to see her getting defensive of animals.

- Bharadwaj is more clearly going through it and her character seems more involved in the general events than at this point in the book, which are good choices.

- Ratthi seems pretty similar to the book so far, just with more details added which all seem consistent. We also got the iconic line "For fuck's sake, Ratthi!" lol.

- From Murderbot's early comments and what it sees of Pin-Lee's reactions, it's clear that the throuple is probably not going to be all smooth sailing, but any issues will likely be due to lack of clear communication about each person's feelings and preferences, so it's also theoretically solvable.

- The only thing that bothered me during the episodes was the parts where the audio was different or differently placed than what was in the trailers. But the changes between the first and second trailer (iirc) had already clued me in that they were being a bit flexible with the audio, so I wasn't as surprised as I would've been, I guess. Personally, since I tried not to have too many expectations outside of what was confirmed in the trailers and previews, it annoyed me that even those expectations weren't 100% reliable, but that's mostly an autism problem and I know I'll get over it.

- Other than the trailer thing I have zero complaints about the show so far! It seems to maintain the spirit of the books and their characters even in the parts that are added or changed, and I'm really, really looking forward to seeing the rest!

[mothinked]

Ellie scuffed a boot against the asphalt as she walked and replied to Abby with more docility than she'd shown before. More passivity, less caution but tentative of their fragile armistice. Offering Abby her full attention. "I'd believe you, if you told me," she said softly, just loud enough for her companions to catch. It was mostly mono-syllabic communication up until this point for the two women while she talked at length to Lev. Answering his questions to the best of her ability, even if they were more of a personal nature.

She was willing to entertain him and patient in showing him things he was unfamiliar with. Teaching was important, to pass on your knowledge and experience was invaluable. It was something she learned after leaving the Boston QZ and settling in Jackson for the first time. She had Joel to thank for learning so much. But also Dina and JJ as well. Meanwhile Tommy was the uncle she never had... Her last connection to Joel. She loved him and Maria like family, and they were her family.

Lev was Abby's family, there was no mistaking that.

Ellie found him to be well-mannered and kind, much like her son. Endearingly inquisitive, too. He covered Abby's weaknesses, helped draw her strength when she faltered and helped to ground her mentally. He was brave and compassionate in equal measure and Ellie told him once, unbidden, that she thought he would make a great leader. That the world needed more men like him. The way he shyly dipped his head and smiled was enough to make her day. Ellie knew she wouldn't have lasted this long being alone with Abby and so she was grateful that he came along for the journey.

Ellie noticed a lot about these two. And she doubted he would have let Abby do this on her own regardless. Nah, not this kid with his unwavering determination and stares that could make even two very headstrong women like them listen and relent, however begrudgingly. Abby needed him, that much Ellie knew beyond the shadow of a doubt. Nothing was able to tear these two apart.

Perhaps to make her first real effort to have Abby open up to her or to fill the quiet, Ellie began enumerating some fucked up shit she had experienced. "Came across a group of cannibals when I was fifteen." It was said with a nonchalant shrug. She'd lived through much worse in the years since. "Then a couple of years back, there was this other group I came across. Near Colorado Springs... I think? This man and woman saw me come out of a building filled with spores—" Here, she chuckled humorlessly. "—no mask. They saw how I wasn't showing signs of infection so naturally, they were curious. Shocked. I went with them to their camp when they offered me food."

"Yeah, I knew it was stupid but I hadn't caught any animals in days. They started acting.... really fucking weird in the next day or two and before I could get out of there, the man... their leader, I suppose, gathers his people in some kind of cult circle and draws a knife on me." Ellie added imagery to the story by holding out her switchblade, her eyes going from Lev to Abby as she lowered her voice and adopted a gruffer tone. "He said, 'We want your blood'. Like he was asking for me to give him the last piece of jerky or something. So I let them see their own blood instead... but then the woman got the others to grab me. They sliced my hand open."

She could still see the line of faded scar tissue on the palm of her left hand. Barely there but a souvenir of this unsettling encounter nevertheless. Ellie's switchblade was tucked away into the back pocket of her jeans before she continued. "They thought drinking my blood would make them immune. I'm sure they would have tried to eat me or worse if I hadn't gotten away. And I couldn't let them follow me either."

The rest of the tale was fill-in-the-blanks. She was quiet for a moment, staring off at nothing in particular as they walked, pensive. "I don't know if it would have even worked. My blood could be different though." She made eye contact with Abby, green seizing blue—like the earth meeting the sky. "Guess we'll find out soon enough." This brokered agreement was why they put aside their history and in spite of said history, they were choosing to co-exist without the threat of violence against each other.

Could she say she still hated Abby with every fiber of her being? The answer was no, she didn't. The hate and the wrath that came with it was gone. Did Abby feel that it wasn't there anymore? If she were to ask, there would be no point in lying. Ellie wasn't willing to choke on her own blood before she'd swallow her pride... Not anymore. Not over this. Abby had her own reasons for being the one to talk Ellie into the whole thing. In truth, Ellie wasn't so sure she would have trusted the Fireflies had they brought others to find her.

She, too, had her reasons, ones that didn't involve helping make a cure. To right her wrongs... To understand the woman who changed everything. Things she couldn't entirely made sense of let alone admit out loud.

Did the Firefly leader pick Abby because of her history with Ellie or did she volunteer beforehand while suggesting they continue Jerry's legacy? Ellie stored that question away for later.

She still wanted to make her immunity mean something, even if that also meant she was betraying Joel's and Jesse's memory in having her peace with Abby. The Fireflies could take her blood, run their tests and ask their questions. But they couldn't have her life—this was something she could not give up while she still had the people who loved her.

"So, what's this thing I wouldn't believe?"

Such a dismissive reaction to the offer of leading them didn’t come as any surprise to Abby. Sure whatever was right. The idea still didn’t thrill her but it was either try to navigate blind or leave it to someone who knew the area better than the two of them. The choice seemed simple enough, even if neither of them were a fan of the idea. She manages to contain an eye roll which is impressive. Lev could at least be proud that she was trying to somewhat come off as reasonable at that moment in time. A quick look in his direction and a nod in return is the reassurance she needs that everything is going to be okay. With such a fucked up history, his was the only judgment she could trust at this point and as long as he continued to trust Ellie, Abby would be forced to do the same. Even if it went against every single instinct in her body. She would be ready at a moments notice though to spring into action if needed. The remnants of the violence Ellie was capable of were scattered about her skin, visible on sleeveless, suntanned arms. No reason had been given on this trip to keep her guard up but she certainly wouldn’t be letting it down around her.

The two of them watch as she hops up onto the roof of the car and their gaze falls into the direction she’s looking at. Mention of a horde makes her tense up, her jaw locking into place. It’s less than ideal, even with the alleged distance between them and infected. Abby had encountered her fair share of infected groups but in terms of numbers, nothing had quite outdone those that had chased her through the snowy Jackson mountains. A horde that nearly killed her if it hadn’t been for… No. She shakes the memory out of her head and forces herself to lock in on the task at hand. “I’ve seen shit you wouldn’t believe,” she states calmly and looks in the direction of the other woman. There’s no sarcasm in her statement. No smugness. Maybe the slightest hint of fear in the way it comes out. No matter how hard she tried, that fucking abomination in the basement of the hospital had not been forgotten. The fact that something like that could exist was one of the things that brought her genuine terror. Making it out of Seattle was an accomplishment but making it out of that place was a miracle unlike any other.

Her focused is back on the land and she takes the binoculars as they’re offered to her with no hesitation. Ellie is right. Definitely a horde and thankfully a solid distance away from them. Not enough for her liking. She scans the surrounding area more before taking one final look at the horde. The faster they can depart, the better. At least they seem to be on the same page with that sentiment. “C'mon,” Abby mumbles to Lev who also takes a look through the binoculars. “I don’t want to stay to find out what kind of shit might be out there.” He’d heard the story of the hospital before and knew better than to question it.

She doesn’t even notice the slower pace and finds herself walking ahead until Lev calls out her name and she glances over her shoulder at the both of them. Too many recollections from her past have her in a momentary fog and the snapback to reality is all it takes for her to lock back in and nod. “We can boil some water for reserve, cool off. I’ll get things going for the night if the two of you want to have a look around.”

[howlettsangel]

—sunday nights

tags/warnings: 18+ mdni dbf!logan howlett x f!reader, sunday night fb, reader in college, big big age gap, established relationship, mostly fluff with mini smut, dry humping if you squint, clothes stay ON, risky touching

a/n: super duper short but im sooooo obsessed with dbf!logan...

wc: 1.1k

The TV was loud downstairs, so loud it cut through the music blaring in your headphones. Logan had stayed after dinner to watch the game, him and your father fussing at the screen for the past hour. Their voices mixed with the bustle of commentary and advertisements eventually drew you out of your bedroom.

You had driven in for fall break to visit with your father and catch up with a few missed faces from childhood. It felt good to be home, somewhere familiar outside of university. And maybe, it felt sort of nice to see Logan again.

Your father had worked with Logan since before you could remember. He had definitely become a regular face in your house, from birthday parties to family events. He tagged along whenever invited.

The feelings that developed over time seemed trivial, like a simple teenage crush. But, oh, it was more than a crush. For both parties. Logan spent days at a time trying to figure out when he would see you next. When was your next break? What holidays were coming up? No matter how many times he swore he didn't, he always found his mind wandering back to those questions.

⋆୨୧

You padded down the carpeted stairs, the soft thuds of your footsteps causing the pair of men to turn their heads towards you. You watched as a smile settled on your dad's face for the brief moments his attention wasn't on the screen.

"Look who it is," he teased, "I thought you would've gone to bed by now, sweet pea. Long drive yesterday."

"You think I can sleep with the two of you screaming down here?" you shot right back, your tired eyes drifting over to Logan in the other arm chair. He gave you a small scoff, half laughing, half annoyed by your comment. His eyes stayed on the screen as he let you and your father talk, but he felt you looking at him.

"Hey, ain't our fault they've played like shit lately," your dad shrugged back at you.

You moved into the kitchen to get a glass of milk, maybe some juice to sip on while you lingered around in the living area. It felt like you were being a bother from time to time, but having the liberty to stare at Logan from afar was far better than any stuffed animal up in your bedroom.

By the time you were finished up with the glass in your hand, the halftime ads were coming on. You knew your dad never cared much for whatever new brand he was gonna be convinced into buying from, so it wasn't surprising when he announced his plans to get more beer.

"M' gonna head out and fetch some more beer before the second half," he grumbled as he stood from his recliner. The wood floor creaked as he moved towards the front door and took his keys off the hook. "Keep an eye on her, yeah Logan?"

Of course he was just being a tease, glancing over at you with a smirk and then back to his friend. "I'm not a baby, he doesn't have to 'keep an eye on me,'" you protested, but the thoughts that came to your mind when you imagined the two of you alone betrayed your words.

"Yeah, yeah, we'll be fine," Logan huffed. The two of you watched your father leave with excitement bubbling in your chests, and it wasn't long before you were in the living room again.

You discarded your glass on the coffee table beside the couch, shifting closer with a smile on your face so that you could sit down right next to Logan. He didn't argue one bit with your company and simply let his arm fall across your shoulders. The scent of your perfume was light and faded from a long day, and he could still tell what shampoo you had used last night. It felt like a drug.

"Why're you sitting so far away?" he grumbled, the smallest hint of a smirk on his face. He tugged you a bit closer, an invitation for you to sit on his lap.

Like him, you weren't arguing. You rolled your eyes just to play up the sass, but inevitably shifted on top of his lap. It felt like ages since the two of you had a chance to be alone. It was always a risk, and it still was now. Your dad was never one to waste time when it came to football, but the back fridge was a bit of a walk from the main house.

"You're trouble," you breathed out, your voice soft as you leaned in to brush your lips against Logan's. Smiling back at you, Logan shook his head.

"Says you."

Kissing was usually the furthest risk you two would take especially on nights like these where getting caught was just a disaster waiting to occur. The longer your little make-out sesh went on, the lower Logan's hands went on your body. His palm slipped between your bodies that were flush against one another, reaching underneath the nightgown you wore.

You knew exactly what he was trying to do, yet Logan would just blame it on all the beer he had in his system (which was only two bottles). His fingertips brushed against the thin cloth of your panties, and even though you had definitely worn them for him, that didn't mean you could just throw your dignity out the window.

"Lo," you whined softly. Your hips were moving on their own accord as they bucked into his touch: squirming because you wanted more and because you wanted him to cut it out. "He's gonna see us."

"No he ain't," Logan couldn't care less about getting caught by your father. He continued coaxing each and every little whine from your lips. Your words weren't driven into his brain until you both heard the front steps creak.

His hand stilled for a moment as if thinking what to do, but you quickly moved away. You brushed off your dress to compose yourself and cleared your throat as an extra effort. It was only seconds before your dad came back, a second case of beer in his hand and an excited smile on his face.

"I didn't miss anything, huh?" he asked. You were still sitting on the couch, a bit closer to Logan than what seemed appropriate, but it didn't take long for you to scoot away. You were trying desperately not to laugh.

Your dad fell back into his armchair, barely paying any mind to where you were. You made eye contact with Logan across the couch, mouthing a small 'sorry' through your attempts to hide a chuckle.

He knew he would just have to wait until next sunday night.

tags: @blah-blah-bee @ellaynaonsaturn @ellaynahowlett @sweetverine @nymphoniah @cruel-as-sin @lostinlovingrevery @mcrdvcks @manipulatour @kvntonq

[lizardkingeliot]

Fair warning this is going to be a mess and my brain is running on fumes so... bear with me lol.

I'm thinking about Louis not uttering Lestat's name for 23 years until he starts unloading on a stranger trying to convince himself Lestat was nothing to him. He wasn't in LOVE what are you TALKING about. He wasn't a great musician who wrote me love songs so infuriatingly perfect I swam the Mississippi to bite him like a cat and fuck him on the floor! Lestat wasn't that great at all I promise look at me, Daniel, do I look like the sort of guy who would lie about something like that!!!

I'm thinking about how what Louis was doing here wasn't actually that at all. Armand read him for filth because he's always known who the real love of Louis' life is, hasn't he? And Louis couldn't bear it anymore. He couldn't find Lestat (which begs the question WHY they were separated after Paris if Louis knows he isn't dead at this point but I guess the show will tell us that in the upcoming episodes lol), and this was going to be his way out. Had he been searching for him in secret? Did Armand know? I'm thinking prooooobably not but I guess we'll have to see what happens in Paris and in the final three episodes to be sure why Louis was so INSISTENT he didn't want to see Lestat even while very obviously trying to do just that. I assume it has to do with the events surrounding The Trial???? A desperate attempt to protect Lestat (wherever he may be) from Armand? Who knows!

I'm thinking about Louis insisting all he did was talk trash about Lestat and Armand immediately answering... that's not exactly how you talked about him to me. Yet Armand says Lestat's name hasn't been uttered in 23 years. Which would have been around 1950 in the timeline. Right after Paris. So clearly we're meant to understand Louis confided something about the true nature of his relationship with Lestat to Armand. Yet Louis insisted right there in that coffin that Lestat was his maker and nothing more. Again, I guess we'll just have to wait for the end of the season to see how we're meant to piece that whole thing together lol.

I'm thinking about the way the show let us hear Lestat's voice as he spoke to Louis through Armand. They let US hear Lestat insisting Armand tell Louis "I love you". Yet that's not something Louis could possibly remember because he didn't hear it. Which seems confusing but it's actually confirming this theory I've had brewing in my head that the show intentionally shows us things Louis isn't actually saying in the interview. Like making out with Dreamstat in the park. If you rewatch 2x03 there's no way Louis actually told Daniel and Armand about that. Or in this case, it's the show showing us something Louis can't possibly know himself.

And I'm thinking... why? The only real reason to do that is to drive home that what we're watching is in fact the Louis and Lestat love story at its core. I mean... think about it. Every iteration we've seen of Lestat this season has been so ROMANTIC. They were so in LOVE. All the stuff Louis tried his best to omit in season one is leaking in around the cracks like sunlight through the slats of a window shade and it's only a matter of time before that shade is opened...

Also. One more thing. Not to dump allll of this in one post but....... we finally got confirmation in this episode that Armand IS messing with Louis' head and erasing things and overwriting memories and I am foaming at the mouth waiting to see what else is in there Louis doesn't know about...

[pastlivesandpurplepuppets]

Clancy Lyall has a different spin on the Norman Dike story. Lyall, who along with Lieutenant Jack Foley was “right next to Dike,” said their commander had been shot in the right shoulder. That wounding was what caused Dike to stop, not panic, as depicted in the miniseries. “People who saw this movie think the man was a coward because he was hollering, but he got shot in the shoulder,” Lyall said. Lyall said he mentioned Dike’s wounding to Winters at the film’s premiere, saying the filmmakers “shouldn’t do that. The man wasn’t a coward.” “The man has grandkids, and what are they going to say? ‘My grandpa was a coward’? If he was or wasn’t, you don’t do that shit,” Lyall told me. Lyall said what other veterans say about Dike “is their business,” but he feels the movie’s treatment of Dike was unfair. “I don’t care if the man was scared or whatever,” he said. “You don’t go telling everybody. Christ, he was there. That’s more than almost everyone else in the world was, right? Every one of us who was there was scared, and if he says he wasn’t, he’s a damned liar or he wasn’t there. That’s the truth.”

~ Larry Alexander

[pynkhues]

https://www.tumblr.com/pynkhues/781678933370355712?source=share

This makes me feel even more (along with Eric saying that about not wanting to lose Delainey, plus what Rolin has said) that we'll hopefully get some real ghostClaudia and Claudia flashbacks

Me too, anon! I feel particularly confident in terms of the Claudia flashbacks (and can't wait to see Delainey play more of Claudia when she's young + for her to have more scenes with Sam), but I'm mostly curious at the moment in terms of Ghost!Claudia. There are a lot of ways I feel like they could do that, and it'll be interesting to see if they approach her as a Dreamstat-esque hallucination, or if they decide to really lean into these different supernatural archetypes. Mostly, I think I'm curious as to the level of agency she might have as a ghost though, especially given Dreamstat didn't have any, of course.

[thoughtpeek]

I'VE FINALLY FINISHED BROTHERSHIP IT WAS SOOOOO GOOD!!!!!!!

[goat-boy-sounds]

opened my university email for the first time in months only to find that the lead directing professor I haven't talked to in a year is telling me individually to apply for a highbrow screenwriting diversity fellowship heyyyoooooo

[echoheart0324]

Sorry for just kinda disappearing in and out lately, I recently moved into a dorm (with 7 other people...), and I genuinely feel like I'm going to lose my mind... Q.Q

[jichanxo]

now i’m interested in how amasawa thinks of kitakata. i mean... she Must have heard something... and if she did, there is always a question what exactly. SIGH. all these possibilities

I somehow still ended up writing paragraphs but: long story short, yeah I have no idea right now.

their relationship in my head right now is pretty normal? she’s a nice enough student and he’s just another teacher. obviously amasawa is closer to yagami since they have the whole investigation thing in common, while kitakata is more the type to hang back and only intervene in something if it’s serious/when he really wants to. He’s the staff advisor for the club so that she can keep running it, so presumably she’s grateful for that, but I don’t see him as being particularly involved in what he sees as busywork/troublemaking. He’s their advisor more for the mystery fiction enjoyer side of the club, I think (japanese teacher = literature/writing = books, reading etc) so he’s more like itokura and just wants to drop in and do a little reading and keep an eye on things.

I’m thinking maybeeee possibly perhapssss he’s the head of department for japanese (he’s been teaching it long enough hasn’t he?) so he’s busy enough doing his own work and can’t necessarily stick his head in as much as you’d otherwise expect. Well. Still turning that around in my head, I’ll see if I end up doing it. It’d probably make for some interesting career contrast with yagami (who, by kitakata’s standards, looks like a freeloader lmao)

I’ve certainly thought about in passing how some of the students/teachers might know each other but haven’t locked anything down yet. I don’t see kitakata as knowing either of the girls particularly well, so he probably hasn’t been their homeroom teacher. Maybe he’s taught amasawa? And there’s also kento, maybe… sawa especially I think would be interesting to poke at here… maybe amasawa’s opinion on kitakata is partially informed by sawa, because she encourages her to ask him to be the club staff advisor since he likes mystery fiction? just thinking out loud

anyway suffice to say if any interesting ideas get thrown in my direction I’ll definitely be considering them. It’d also be nice to have yagami and kitakata hear things about each other through amasawa perhaps, but as for anything about amasawa and kitakata exclusively? yeah, no idea. It'll be interesting to feel out her personal opinion on him since yknow. Students always got interesting opinions about their teachers lmao

[knackfandomarchive]

Really wish I wasn't computer illiterate. Inspired by reddit's... decisions, I'm looking into how to use the Internet Archive. I have made an account on the Archive and installed a browser extension for FireFox that aims to archive web pages. But if I select the option to archive outlinks, they don't seem to grab the entire other pages, but still counts them as archived. There is a 45 minute cooldown period for every page that has been archived.

What I gather is that I can go onto the knack subreddit (which has not been privated yet/at all?) and archive the front page of it, and that results in a snapshot page of the first few posts listed. But if, on that snapshot page, I click on a post that has not been archived separately, only the title will load on the page I opened, and I have to wait 45 minutes if I want to archive that one.

Then there is the matter of I don't know yet how to find the existing archived pages through the Archive search function.

edit: okay, the only thing I can think of is reddit's busted. Plugging a URL for a post itself into the archive machine still results in an incomplete page. le sigh

[ryoflix]

sukuna doing your grwm voiceover | f. reader, s/h prns., crack 'n fluff, estb. rl ؛ ଓ

the mic is a cheap little thing—one of those clip-ons with a long cord and a half-broken clip that you swore was “totally fine for tiktok.” it’s taped to the desk lamp now, swaying slightly as sukuna leans back in your pink gaming chair, arms crossed over his chest like it might keep the cringe away. the video is on mute.

thank god. he would’ve walked out if he had to listen to your chipper little intro and do this dumbass voice-over. but he stays—grumbling, snarling under his breath, but he stays.

“ugh. fine,” he mutters as he hits record, voice low and already irritated. “hi. ’m narratin' her dumbass makeup thing. let’s get this over with.”

the video starts with you holding up your moisturizer to the camera like it’s a sacred relic. sukuna squints at the label.

“this one’s got... snail slime or some shit. don’t ask me. she swears by it. uses exactly three pumps, like a goddamn ritual. see? one, two... three. mmhmm. told you.”

he clicks his tongue when the next product flashes onscreen. your sunscreen.

“this one’s white as hell when it goes on. looks like a clown for a sec. she always pats it in too fast—like she’s in a race. it dries down okay, i guess. not that i notice. or care.”

he very much notices. always does. he sits on the bed pretending to scroll while you do this routine every morning. he's watched it with the intensity of a warrior memorizing enemy patterns.

now comes the concealer. the applicator dabs under your eyes with practiced precision.

“yeah. this part. five dots under each eye. exactly five. you miss one, she wipes the whole thing off like the world’s ending. don’t know why she bothers—looks good without all this crap anyway.”

he pauses.

“…not that i say that out loud.”

the beauty blender makes its entrance and sukuna actually groans.

“this sponge. she squeezes it before every use like it’s stress relief. and then she taps. forever. for e-ver. just... tap tap tap like an annoying little woodpecker.”

he mimics the sound with his fingers on the desk—tap, tap, tap—lazily, almost fondly.

your bronzer palette appears, slightly cracked in the corner. he narrows his eyes.

“this thing’s been through hell. she won’t throw it away. i offered to buy her a new one and she called me ‘sweet’ like i wasn’t trying to end this makeup horror show. anyway, she goes light-handed here. no muddy cheeks. she’s precise. annoying, but precise.”

his gaze flicks to the lipstick you picked—a soft, bitten pink.

“her favorite,” he says a little too quickly, a little too softly. then he clears his throat like the sentiment offended him. “whatever. next.”

the video ends with you posing for the camera, smiling. sukuna stares for a second too long. you’d edited a heart transition, too—sparkly pink.

“gross,” he mutters.

he clicks the mic off and pushes back from the desk like it burned him. “we done? finally?”

you post it anyway. mostly because the internet doesn’t deserve to be spared this kind of comedy gold. and overnight, the comments blow up. thirsting. begging. 

"i'd pay to listen to him read an audiobook."  "who is he and where can i sign up for the cult??"  "he sounds like he could ruin my life and i'd say thanks afterwards."

sukuna glares at the screen the next morning, cracking his knuckles like he’s ready to teleport into the comments section and throw hands.

“who the hell is sexyslut69 and why do they want me to whisper them affirmations?” he growls. “block ‘em. block all of ‘em.”

you laugh. he doesn’t. but when you offer to film another one, he grumbles a “tch” and sits back down in your chair.

“fine. but next time, you're using the expensive mic. and none of that heart bullshit at the end. i'm not doing that sparkly shit again.”

pause.

“…and do not let them think i’m for sale, you hear me? i’m yours. yours.”

[killerpancakeburger]

Thinking about a Reader who ends up having Scary Dog Privileges with Ghost without meaning to. It just happened.

Then they have to deal with the fact that this comes with duties too.

Tags: civilian!reader, gn!reader, mostly fluff, a bit suggestive, smug!Ghost, smooth!Ghost. 800 words.

Part 2. Part 3.

When Ghost is reluctant to getting sutured in Medical after accidentally opening his stitches, grumbling he can do it himself, who does the nurse call for? Yeah, you.

She could stand her ground, after all she's used to dealing with big, whiny men, but it's much more fun to knock on your door and smile at your bewildered gaze and gaping mouth when she explains the situation in two sentences.

"Ghost's being difficult, mind taking over?" "I'm sorry, what the hell does this have to do with me?" "C'm'on, everyone on base knows he's got a soft spot for you. Don't you want to make my job easier?"

You roll your eyes and slam your hands on your desk as you get up. Groaning as you walk past her— "I'm doing this for you, nothing else, got it?"

Mumbling to yourself "you've got to be kidding me" as you barge into the sick bay. Ghost is coolly seated at the end of a bed, large as life, casual clothes as black as his mask and— oh. You weren't told the wound was on his thigh— you weren't warned that he didn’t have pants on. You can’t help it, your eyes go down, down, your lingering gaze and your flustered silence forming a confession louder than words.

A noise — a scoff or a grunt, you’re not sure — emanates from him, breaks your trance, makes you look up. The amusement in his gaze tells you he noticed your oggling— of course he did. Nothing gets past the Ghost, and you've been remarkably unsubtle. Despite the mask, you swear you can make out the smug smirk on his lips. His cockiness reignites your irritation. Annoyance making you bolder than you really are, you charge at him, crossing the distance between you two in a stride, stopping close— too close. He doesn't back off.

"What's wrong with you?" you snarl. "Nothin'," he retorts, imperturbable.

It's actually the first time you’re overlooking him. You may be enjoying it a bit too much. Nevermind the fact that you've had to wedge yourself between his parted legs to get there.

You frown, unconvinced by his answer.

“Did Soap contaminate you?”

Bargaining to be cleared out earlier was the Scotsman's trademark.

“Johnny throws a fit cos he hates feeling useless. That's not what I'm doing.”

A smirk stretches your lips.

“Oh, no? I'm sure your reasons are much more noble.”

“Doesn't matter. Got what I wanted anyway.”

He's way too self-satisfied for a man in his underwear.

You throw an unequivocal look in the direction of his injury.

“What you wanted? A still open wound?”

“You.”

He replied without missing a beat, as confident as usual. It is both alluring and aggravating.

“And your idea of wooing me is making me upset?”

You don't add “because if it is, that's really fucking stupid” out loud, but you’re sure he got the message through your tone.

“Nah. But you're more honest when you’re angry. Gutsier.”

You only realize he slipped his index and middle fingers in your trouser loops when he sharply tugs at them. Off balance, you steady yourself by catching his shoulders.

Taking advantage of the strip of bare skin between your shirt and bottoms, the pads of his thumbs idly stroke your hip bones. The contact sends electricity through you, shivers of pleasure running down your sides.

“Ghost,” you start, severe, trying not to let the effect his touch has on you show in your voice.

“Simon,” he counters, surly. “Told ya it's Simon when we're alone, didn't I?”

He did, but you didn’t think he was serious. If that's what it takes to get him to listen… you’ll play by his rules.

“Simon. What's the rest of your brilliant plan? I'm here, but I can’t stitch you up.”

“How ‘bout a deal. I'll stop resisting… for a price.”

You raise an amused eyebrow.

“What kind of price?”

“A kiss.”

You snort. You didn’t believe him capable of something so… puerile.

“With the mask on?”

He doesn't move a muscle to get rid of it.

“Take it off.”

You usually wouldn’t obey what sounds like an order so easily, but it's the first time you get to touch the skull. Slipping two fingers between skin and cloth, you slowly roll up the mask all the way under his nose.

You gently trace the scars surrounding his lips. Then, the second you feel him relax, grip on your hips slackening and intensity of his gaze waning, you grab the bottom of his mask and drag it back down vigorously, making the holes for the eyes land way too low for him to see anything.

“If you thought you'd get a reward for acting out, you've got another think coming.”

[intromortal]

✷ LIQUID SWEETENER ⸻ sim jaeyun

jake takes care of his sick girlfriend, but with an unexpected twist.

this work contains ⋆ smut. mdni. established relationship, reader has a fever, she's very annoying tbh but it's bc she's ME! it's okay tho bc jake is equally as bad. spitting medicine in someone's mouth... is this sanitary? absolutely not but i also can't bring myself to care, fingering, praise, degradation (use of slut like once? and pet), he's mostly very sweet tho i promise, oral f!rec, squirting, mentions of free use, multiple orgasms, quick aftercare, jake comes untouched he's down bad sorry ! ⸻ rules ⋆ m.list

length ⋆ oneshot ⸻ 5.2k words

✷ NIA — i finally got around to rewriting this omfg. this rewrite is for my sweet @heechwe and all the nonnies who asked for this to be posted again <3

It's not everyday Jake gets to take care of you, so when you're all sickly and weak, it's hard to evade his attentions no matter how hard you try.

Jake pouts when you shoot down yet another attempt to get you to take your medicine. "Why don't you just chug it? I promise it's not as bad as you think."

He’s been trying to get you to swallow at least a tiny dose of the sweet fever syrup for the best part of an hour, after every attempt to get you to down any kind of pill resulted in you hiding them somewhere underneath your cozy pajamas, against your burning skin.

"If it's not as bad as I think, why are you suggesting I just chug it?" Your voice is slightly muffled as you eye him suspiciously from under the heavy cover pulled up all the way to your nose.

"You're the one insisting it's disgusting without even trying it, I asked for the best flavor possible when I got it." He made sure to pick out a syrup that doesn't taste straight up radioactive, knowing you well enough to predict you’d make a big fuss about the nasty taste. Yeah, he can picture it right in his head, how you’d gag dramatically at the smell and just beg him to go get the tablets again—which you wouldn't agree to take anyway.

For how much you hate being sick, you seem to dislike the idea of getting better quickly even more.

“You would feel so much better if you just took your medicine,” he sighs, resting the cap filled to the brim with honey flavored syrup on the crowded comforter, careful not to leave it too close to the edge. He licks whatever residue is left on his sticky fingers. "Really not that bad. It's sweet."

"So it's not good either," you huff back, trying to wiggle yourself out of the cocoon of blankets Jake wrapped you in as soon as you fell asleep. "I'm not even that sick anyway.”

“Yeah?” Jake looks at you with an arched brow, then points his head to the little mountain of discarded, snot filled tissues overtaking your comforter, the ones he was in the middle of throwing away. “This right here is breeding grounds for bio terrorism allegations.”

He stops you from getting out of bed, securing the warm fuzzy covers around you again. “No need to leave, just tell me what you need and I’ll get it for you,” he whispers against your lashes, placing a soft kiss to your closed eyelid.

“Just wan’ you.”

His plump lips thin into that gorgeous wide smile of his as he speaks,“but you have me baby, I’m right here, yeah?”

He knows very well what you mean, and a frustrated grumble spills out of you at the thought. Cheeky bastard, of course he wants you to say the quiet part out loud. Neither of you is used to going without pleasuring each other for long periods of time, and anything longer than three days is eons according to Jake. You're surprised he's behaved as well as he has this past week, you thought he would be the one to cave in first.

“Want…more,” you crank one of your eyes open, struggling when a droplet from the wet towel on your forehead Jake promptly changed every fifteen minutes slips in it. You blink a few times, adjusting to the light in the room before looking over to Jake, his grin still wide and brightening up his whole face, his head turned to the side as he observes you lovingly, a strand of hair longer than the rest tickling the side of his nose.

If Jake has to be completely honest with himself, he's not particularly sad at you being a little sick. 

Sure, it sounds mean when he says it out loud, but you're not doing so badly or in any kind of pain that would worry him, and he enjoys doting on you like this, with you having no choice but to take his love. Can’t blame a man for wanting to take care of his girl, especially when said girl has a streak of refusing to just lay back and let him do the work. 

You're always hiding your pain and vulnerability from everyone around you, so he enjoys knowing he's helping make it at least a little better for once.

You—however—wouldn’t exactly agree that he's making you feel better, definitely not by walking around with damp hair from the shower and intoxicating the air around you with the lingering salty marine and musky notes of the cologne he always sprays on his fresh change of clothes. A smell you usually related to comfort and home, making your head spin in the best way possible, a whirlwind of anything but pure thoughts crowding your mind.

Jake takes notice of the subtle shift in the air around you right away. You had been–subtly at first—laying down little hints for him to pick up, you craved him. Had been craving him for what felt like forever, ever since you got sick. A nagging hunger that just grew further with every hour he silently ignored it.

Usually you would busy yourself with random tasks, keeping your thoughts clear of images of his hands, or his plush lips and how he always absentmindedly licks away at them or how—you get the idea. But being sick doesn't help, being physically weak and needing rest doesn't stop your mind from running wild. Made it worse, actually, since you have nothing to do but lay in your bed all day. If only he’d slide right next to you under your covers and—

“I know what you’re thinking,” Jake interrupts your thoughts, a hint of amusement shining through his smooth tone. You look up to him hopefully, breath caught in your chest fearing the next few words he's about to say. “And you’re still too sick.”

Really not being dramatic, but you're pretty sure a boulder just crushed you right on your chest. You groan, turning to the other side so you can properly sulk without having to look at Jake’s stupidly handsome face. A face you'd love to ride as soon as possible.

“No like, you actually hate me,” your voice is muffled by the pillow currently squished against your face.

“What are you even doing.”

“Trying to suffocate myself since my man hates me.” You grab the sides of the pillow and push them to cover your ears, making Jake erupt in a fit of boyish giggles. 

“No I don’t, just want you to feel better first,” he whispers, and the loving tone makes your body feel light.

You suddenly push yourself up with your arms to look at him, nest of hair a mess from the speed of your movement. “I would feel sooo much better with your fingers deep inside me right now.”

He looks at you for a moment, really looks at you, assessing what to do in this situation. He too misses your touch, far more than what he lets on. Even just sleeping next to you—a pillow fortress separating you two by your request—turned out to be too much for him on multiple occasions. He often found himself silently sneaking out of bed to go and take care of his sudden little problems in the bathroom, trying not to wake you up because he knew if you caught him he wouldn't be able to get out of your claws.

And you really need the rest.

As if sensing his resolve wavering, you add, “don’t I deserve a little reward?”

“A reward… for what?” Jake is thoroughly amused by your desperation. You rarely ever get like this, and he enjoys every second of it. You can tell because he's pushing it a little farther than what he usually would, ending up punishing himself a little along the way too. On any other occasion he would've been all over you before you could even finish your sentence. But Jake doesn't care, not when he doesn't know when the next time he gets to hear you beg a little for him is gonna be.

“Well of course! For having fought this fever tooth and nail and having come out of it alive.”

“You still have a fever though,” he says. “Could kick your ass right down at any given moment.”

“That.” You glare at him with all the fake anger you can muster up. “Is such a mean thing to even suggest.”

“Don’t you care about me getting sick? Made a scene all week and now you’re okay with me touching you?”

“First of all—I only made you keep the pillows between us the first two days. And like I told you, I feel better, so if—” the words die in your throat as you feet the bed dip underneath the weight of Jake’s knee.

"No, no. Keep talking." He slowly gets under the covers, and it's not because he's testing your reaction. His presence felt different, the soft look in his eyes overtaken by something more primal, and you couldn't help but feel like prey under his watchful gaze. It felt intimidating in a way you weren’t used to. It made you squeeze your legs together in search of any friction, your already feverish skin somehow feeling even hotter.

You try to hide the way you gulp, eyes still fixed on his body as he gets comfortable on his side, facing you.

“Maybe you’re right,” Jake whispers against your cheek, his nose rubbing for a moment on your skin as he sneaks an arm underneath your body, pulling you flush to his chest. Even just that single touch sends an electrifying shiver down your spine. “Since you’re fully capable of talking my ear off…”

You reach for his hand wrapped comfortably around your waist and guide it down to cup your heat through your thin shorts, your own hand resting on top of his as you grind against it.

"I suppose you've had enough rest."

You take notice of how his breath hitches in his throat, his carefully crafted mask of calmness slipping as you use his hand. The illusion wears off even more when he tries to hide it with a gulp, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. You know he wants it just as bad as you do, you're just willing to beg for it as long as it gets you what you want.

“I’ll—” you gasp when he flexes his fingers that tiny little bit you need to be able to feel them press against your fluttering hole. “I’ll do anything, just please make me cum.”

“Anything?” his voice is light and airy as he moves the fabric of the shorts out of his way. A deep chuckle tickles your neck, Jake’s mouth dipping down do leave open mouthed kisses on the sensitive skin.

“Anything, just… please,” you whine, flexing your neck to allow him more space, his tongue dipping to lick a stripe down to the juncture of your neck.

Had you not been so deprived of Jake’s touch, you would have found the way you're grinding up against his hand and moaning in his ear almost embarrassing. But you're desperate, so you can't bring yourself to care too much about how pathetic you probably look to anyone else.

The only people in the room are you and Jake anyway, and he seems to be thoroughly enjoying it. His cock is stiff in his sweats, almost painfully so, from feeling how wet you are through your shorts. Dripping already and he barely touched you.

"You're so fucking hot. You know that?" Jake nibbles the shell of your ear, making you arch further in his hold. “You'll do anything you said? How about you take your medicine then?” He moves his hand from your mound to grip your thigh, ignoring your weak attempts at clawing his arm to get the little taste of pleasure he took away from you back.

He kisses his teeth, eyebrows furrowing in faux disapproval. “Use your words. What will you do?”

“Take my medicine,” you whimper, looking into your boyfriend's eyes despite the tears aligning your waterline, and finding amusement swimming through his gaze. Little piece of shit. Not that you were about to complain or anything.

“Theeeere we go,” Jake sings in your ear, placing a soft kiss behind it before dipping down once again and resuming his sweet torture. “You can be good once in a while.”

You nod, lips thinning to keep quiet as if any wrong sound could make him change his mind and leave you hanging. The hand that was drawing circles on your thigh comes up to hold your chin, carefully tilting it away from Jake’s mouth as he sucks on a particularly sensitive spot on your skin. He smooths over your lips with his thumb, coaxing them to part once again.

“Let me hear how good you feel, baby,” he mumbles, mouth still latched on your neck, before taking a strong whiff off your scent. Had you not been so distracted by the wetness seeping out of your clenching hole and soaking your panties, you would've noticed how his eyes rolled all the way back in his skull at your smell.

His free hand finally slides under your shorts,and a gasp leaves you because of how cold he feels. Jake is always warmer than you, but your fever makes it so his touch feels icy against your skin. Your back arches slightly when one of his digits parts your sopping folds, your sensitivity heightened by the unusual difference of temperature.

“Poor little thing, she’s got a fever too,” he giggles into your neck, another digit joining in as he slowly drags them from your clit to your hole to coat them in your juices. “But it’s okay, I’ll help her feel better.”

Usually, his stupid little jokes would’ve made you groan and push his face away. But this time—blame his voice for being deeper and hoarser than normal, or blame your fever—it makes you clench around nothing, cunt feeling emptier than ever while he takes his sweet time playing with you, savoring the moment.

Your head digs deeper into the pillow, hips lifting from the bed to follow Jake’s torturous movements, desperate to feel something more.

“So needy…” he breathes into your neck and goes back to placing sloppy open mouthed kisses wherever he can reach.

A yelp leaves your mouth, eyes you didn't even notice you closed shooting open when Jake bites down on the junction between your neck and shoulder, just enough to rip you out of the trance you were quickly falling into. He smooths over the little bite mark with this tongue, a tingly sensation overtaking the pain in a matter of seconds, the pleasure overriding anything else. 

Jake finally prods two of his digits into your hole, testing the waters, still careful not to push you too hard so soon. But your reaction is instantaneous, cunt fluttering against his fingertips right away. He has to bite down on his bottom lip to keep most of his noises in. “God… I fucking love it when you act like a little slut.”

Jake is so fucking turned on, he can barely think about anything but your pussy. The only thought in his mind is get her off, make her feel good, get a taste of her sweet cunt, sweet pretty and oh so delicious cunt… like a broken record. He feels like he was born for this and this only, as if his mission in life is just that of pleasing you. And to think he had deprived himself of such bliss for even a few days… Something in you seems different to him, almost animalistic, from the way you rut your hips against his hand as soon as he starts scissoring his fingers inside you, to the way you aren't even trying to hold in your moans like you usually would, mouth hanging open with a string of drool attached to your lips. And this is just from his fingers, he can do so much worse.

You yourself aren't doing any better, your brain basically turned to mush as you help Jake get you off by essentially riding his fingers, despite how weak you feel from the fever. His fingers are so long, hitting all the right spots you know you could never be able to reach by yourself, and his thick knuckles drag against your walls so deliciously.

“S-so good,” you gasp when he turns his fingers just the right way, hitting the spot he knows has you coming undone in just a few strokes.

The room is filled with the slapping sounds of his palm against your drenched cunt, more and more slick dripping down your thighs and onto the bed with every flick of his wrist, making it all that much more obscene and filthy. You can feel the familiar pressure building up in your tummy, and suddenly the overwhelming need to just grab onto something crashes on you, heavy and almost painful. You claw at his shirt, eyebrows furrowed in deep pleasure, unaware of the fact that Jake is not facing you anymore.

He looks at the comforter, over his shoulder. The cap filled with syrup is still there amidst the mess. He twists his body to grab it, careful not to slow down the relentless pace he's fingerfucking your cunt at. A few drops of the liquid spill onto his shirt as he takes a sip of it, a grimace overtaking his features as he tries his best to hold it in his mouth. You're still a moaning mess by his side, tiny brain turned to putty to the point you don't even register anything else happening around you, so hyper focused on the pleasure your boyfriend is providing you with.

“J-Jake, I’m so close.”

Perfect timing.

Jake grabs your jaw to turn your head towards his, applying the pressure you've learned means it is time to part your pretty lips and take his spit, like the good well behaved girl he know you to be. And you do just that; immediately following his movements like he trained you to, tongue sticking out too for good measure.

He bends down slightly to aim better, but this time, instead of the slightly bitter taste of his saliva you expect, he lets small amounts of medicine fall on your tongue.

You uselessly try to back away from him, but he holds you in place, fingers still working inside your cunt. Nor does he allow you to close your mouth despite your surprised gasp. His hand holds your jaw open, grasp getting firmer every time you try to break free from it. After all, you made a promise, and Jake's going to make sure you fulfill it.

“You weren't going to take it, huh?” Jake mouths against your lips once he makes sure you swallowed every last drop of the thick honeyed syrup, holding eye contact with you through it all, fingers never once slowing down their pace. “Little dumb pet thinks she can outsmart me.”

He smashes his mouth on yours, not so much a kiss but a silencing of any complaint you're about to spit at him. Those turn to even more whines when he finally brings his thumb to your clit, drawing harsh circles on it as he fucks you to your orgasm. It's almost instantaneous, you were so close already, his stiff cock rubbing against your thigh and his pants hot in your mouth, but his thumb so cold against your neglected clit.

“That’s it baby, so good for me, yeah.” Jake’s fingers gradually slow down inside you, making sure you got every last bit of pleasure you could possibly experience from this high. He too relishes in how your cunt pulses around his digits, making it harder to move them inside you. Oh, he wishes it was his cock being constricted like that instead, but that can wait.

You finally feel like you can breathe again, chest heaving to catch in as much air as you possibly can, forehead all sweaty from the exertion.

The sheets are drenched around you, and you can't even pinpoint when it happened, but you can immediately tell you aren't the only one who made a mess. Your gaze wanders to Jake’s pants, and a very evident stain on his crotch catches your attention. And fuck, if you aren't ready to do it all over again.

Jake looks absolutely divine; hair disheveled and soaked from the sweat, boxers and sweatpants full of cum. A waste, truly.

You sneak your hand in his pants, ignoring the loud hiss from overstimulation Jake lets out when you wrap your hand around his cock and pump a few times, your thumb swiping on his exposed head to collect some of the cum covering it.

Jake watches you, mouth ajar and cock stiffening again right away, as you lick your fingers clean. He slides his own fingers out of your cunt, lapping at them like a man starved, hoping to work you up just as much as you did him. His heart races in his chest as you keep looking at him, a little smile playing on your lips.

“That was so…” you speak up, giggling when Jake interrupts you by throwing himself over your figure, capturing your lips in an actual kiss this time. A very messy, very wet kiss. Allowing you to savor your own taste mixed with his and sweetened by the medicine.

“I think the word you’re looking for is hot.”

“Dramatic,” you interjected. “So, so dramatic.”

Jake curls an eyebrow at you. “You were the one acting like it’d kill you to swallow some syrup. And actually, let’s not forget–” He places a quick kiss on your nose before pushing you against the mattress further, his entire weight on you. “Ohhh no Jake! Please my Jakey! If I don’t get your cock right now I will DIE!”

“Well I still hav–” 

“And won’t.” he deadpans, sensing where you're trying to stir the conversation. “But I’ve got a few ideas.”

You smile to yourself, feeling feather light kisses making their way down your body, with his messy hair tickling your skin every so often. He places a soft kiss on your mound, whining dramatically when you grab a few strands of his hair to stop him. He rests his head on your thigh, puppy-like eyes looking up at you, almost pleading for permission to continue what he started.

“I really don’t want you to get sick,” you say, voice coming out in a whisper full of care, your fingertips playing with his hair and enjoying the way he nuzzles his head further against your skin.

“Well if I were to get sick by touching you… I’d say the deal is sealed by now, no?” He places another kiss on your thigh, teeth slightly grazing the plush skin when you take too long to contemplate whether to give in or not. “Actually, I think some of this syrup would heal me right now.”

“Jake. I’m being serious.”

“What could I possibly even catch from eating you out that I haven't already by exchanging spit with you? Best pussy in the world disease?” He laughs at his own joke, gaining a roll of the eyes from you. “Let me tell you, the chances of that happening are close to zero anyway. I don’t have a pussy but I am the proud owner of a very fat co–”

“You are downright insufferable.”

“Okay so shut me up with a mouthful of this pu–”

The rest of the sentence is muffled against your mound as you push his head down, deciding you heard enough for the day. And the week.

“Okay, okay. Go on,” you giggle as you lay back once again, a deep sigh following as soon as his expert tongue makes contact with your cunt.

Jake's movements are slow and deliberate at first, as he takes his sweet time collecting all of the slick coating your lips and smearing it all over your skin. It's methodical in a way Jake very rarely is, nothing like the primal and messy mixing of his own spit with your arousal and grunting noises you're so used to. When he gets like this, it's purely to tease you.

You grab a fistful of his hair, the strands soft in your hand, and raise his head to force him to look at you.

You almost regret it when you're met with the sight of him licking his lips, his plump lips spreading in a grin that looks almost evil. His irises are entirely drowning in the dark of his pupils, and you'd be lying if you said it doesn't send a chill down your spine. The good kind, the type that also makes you clench your thighs against his frame.

"If you're gonna beg me to eat me out," you say, finding your strength again and being careful not to let Jake see any weakness on your features. "You better do it properly."

You try to keep a straight face when he erupts in a fit of giggles.

"Oooh, look at you—" he starts, clearly amused by your attempt to assert dominance. "I know what I'm doing. You know I know what I'm doing. It just seems to me that I've spoiled the princess a little too much lately." He lowers his head to your thighs, and litters soft kisses as he makes himself comfortable again. Somewhere along the lines, the harsh hold you had on his hair turned into your hand dragging him closer, but you can't pinpoint the exact moment.

Or you just really don't care to know, not when Jake starts lapping up at your cunt like he's starving.

"You taste so delicious, baby," he moans between licks, his nose pressing further into your heat with every movement of his. "So much better than any medicine. Fuck—you're gonna be my little cure from now on. Every time I'm sick, I'll just let you open your legs for me. You'd let me, baby. Wouldn't you?"

You nod vehemently, before realizing he can't see you. "Yes, please use me," you moan, spreading your thighs as far as you can while pushing his head closer to you, even when it's almost physically impossible for Jake to even breathe. Not that he would have it any other way.

The grip on his hair, the way you push and pull at it as if you have any command over the stimulation he's giving you, the way you sing for him with every flick of his tongue. It all makes Jake's head spin in the best way possible, his cock stiff again in his pants and throbbing against the very fabric he ruined with his cum only minutes before.

He grunts and moans into you, like he's the one being pleasured, and it all adds to the magic Jake is working on you. The vibrations only aiding in inching you closer to the second orgasm of the day.

"Jake, I'm close, please."

You don't need to say anything else, because he parts from your cunt for a single second. Just enough to let a gobble of his spit drip down right on your engorged clit, coating it in more shiny essence.

You're about the complain about the lack of stimulation, but he dives right back in, licking a singular stripe from your poor mess a of hole upwards. He can taste the remains of the syrup in his own spit still, and paired with the straight up divine taste of your own slick, Jake thinks he might be in heaven.

"So sweet, baby. So fucking sweet. It's like you want me to never stop fucking you with my tongue." He catches your little bundle of nerves between his raw lips, already wet with spit, suckling on it like he's trying to coax even more wetness out of you. He swirls his tongue around it, his eyebrows furrowing in both pleasure and concentration as he keeps toying and prodding at every single part of your pussy.

You're so unbelievably close to coming undone, every passing second just bringing you closer to the brink. All it takes to send you over the edge is Jake moaning with your numb right in his mouth, the small vibrations from it all you needed for the searing white feeling to envelop you completely, the familiar silent yet still deafening tingly sensation spreading from your core to all the limbs in your body.

Jake keeps lapping up all your generous body gives him, thankful for it all and careful not to let a single drop go to waste.

Your arm is thrown over your eyes as you catch your breath, this second orgasm completely emptying you of whatever energy you had left. Usually you would offer Jake to help him out as a little thank you, even though he told you time and time again that it wasn't needed and pleasing you what was got him off in the first place.

But as much as you denied it initially, the fever did take a toll on you, more than you would like to admit. So any further activity would have to wait.

"Yummy." Jake comes up from below you, drying the bottom half of his face with the back of his hand. Even if you're tired and spent, the comment is enough to make you remove your arm from your eyes just so you can give him a well deserved death stare.

He gets up from the bed, disappearing for a few seconds into the bathroom. "What's with that look? No 'thank you Jake, you're the best?'"

When you don't reply, far too weakened to even try to banter with your boyfriend, he walks back into the room with a towel and a worried look etched on his gorgeous features.

He gets on the bed again, careful not to move your body more than necessary, and starts cleaning you up with the gentlest touch you've ever felt him use. "Did i tire you out too much? You're still sick—"

"You were great. Don't worry," you stop his train of thoughts you knew you wouldn't hear the end of if you let him go on for any longer. "I just need a nap, then I'll be as good as new."

The tension in Jake's shoulders only disappears once you smile at him, his own face morphing to match your own. It's one of your favorite things about him, how he's so careful and attentive to every hint and feeling on your face, he ends up mirroring them without even noticing.

He runs his hands soothingly all over your skin as he resumes cleaning you up, the room falling into a peaceful silence.

You almost fall asleep, but you should've known Sim Jake shutting up for once was far too good to be true.

"Look at the mess you made though. This is enough to start an entire pharmacy."

[sentient-stove]

"Oh my god he’s dead- we killed a vigilante, OHMYGODOHMYGOD—" A hysterical voice screeched out, decidedly feminine and loud enough that the comn line picked it up.

"He broke in here for no reason first! We have probable cause as to why you brained him with our wok!" The second interjected, calmer than the first, but there was still a line of tension, like they were uncertain about what they were saying.

"Oh my god, oh god we’re literally so dead Batman’s literally going to murder me and you and us and—"

"We're already mostly dead, he can't kill us. Although I thought he had a no killing rule anyways, so maybe we’re safe? Ancients, that is a lot of blood. You think we should call an ambulance?" Static filtered through the comn line before stabilizing again and wow. The residents of the apartment were really just having a full conversation over an unconscious Nightwing- in earshot of a microphone recording every word- like this was a normal occurrence. Maybe it was a normal Friday night for them, Barbara couldn't exactly judge.

"I'm not calling an ambulance, they might arrest him. Hell, they're probably gonna arrest us! Danny, we're fucking unresgistered metas in Gotham, I’m a clone—"

"—Not metas and I won’t let anyone arrest you—"

"—It's the same thing to the government at the end of the day. You're right though. I think I hit him too hard, we're going to lose the deposit with the amount of blood getting everywhere. Head wounds bleed a lot right? Maybe he's not dead."

"He's not dead, we'd know if he was."

"Oh. Right. Man. That is a lot of blood, our IKEA rug is ruined. I liked that rug, you think we could ask him to buy a new one when he wakes up or is he on the normal vigilante salary of nothing?"

“Mhm. I'll go get the med kit, you handcuff him to the table so he doesn't jump us when he wakes up. Keep the mask on- I don’t want to piss off whatever buddies he’s got listening in.”