#my writing 🖤

[josephseedismyfather]

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Many, many thanks to @cassietrn, @cloudofbutterflies92, @omen-speaker, @carlosoliveiraa, @noodlecupcakes, and @simplegenius042 for tagging me in my favorite tag recently! 😍🥰 I will never, ever get tired of this tag!

Writing has been hit and miss, but I have been able to actually work on all 3 fics a little bit. As it has been so long since I've shared some writing, y'all can get a little bit of all of them. 😁 Completely unedited, none of them are ready to go. Still never sticking the one line.

Afflicted - Chapter 3 Jacob was intimidating as she kneeled, pretending to focus on her bike, refusing to make eye contact. The gravel bit into her skin, but she hardly felt it. "Looks like you were wrong, girl," his voice made the hair on her arms stand up. Harley scowled. "Wrong about what?" She could hear the smirk. "You couldn't help it. Couldn't help yourself. Told me you wouldn't be seeing me again and here you are. Practically offering yourself on a silver platter."

Parenesis - Chapter 2 She jumped as the bathroom door swung open hard, hitting the wall loudly. "Hey-" Derek was furious. She shut her mouth instantly. He never got angry like this. She didn't realize she had retreated until her back hit the sink. "If you ever undermine me in front of clients again, Angie," his finger was in her face, "we will have problems. You will not talk to me like that again." And just like that, he was gone again. Evangeline swallowed, determined not to cry as the door shut slowly. She stared at the wall, noticing a dent where the door handle had hit it.

Untitled(shared) Johnny WIP - Chapter 2 The smile on Mother's face was unsettling. He squirmed at the table, uncomfortable, unsure what to say, but not daring to look away. His father cleared his throat. He felt his face get hot. "We will not hear any more talk of before. You will do as we say. This is your home now. You will follow our rules, or there will be consequences." he nodded, blinking rapidly. The smile on her face got wider. "We saved you, John. You will be grateful. Do you understand?" He nodded again. Her hand was cold as her fingers wrapped around his wrist firmly. "No. Do you understand, John?" "Yes."

Opt-in/out of tag list here.

@wrathfulrook, @socially-awkward-skeleton, @trench-rot, @ladyoriza, @redreart

@inafieldofdaisies, @hotmessteaparty, @g0dspeeed, @voidbuggg, @insanityofvaas

@malefiquinn, @strangefable, @skoll-sun-eater, @chazz-anova, @aristomal

@ocdemon-747, @evilvvithin, @la-grosse-patate, @grimmylover7, @3llisarts

@scorpiosleeps, @direwombat, @raresvtm, @walder-138

@simonxriley, @strafethesesinners, and anybody with something to share. Tag me! 😘

[alchemistmelody]

[jethrowest]

let me see you stripped down to the bone…

- stripped by depeche mode

congratulations! you’ve been hired as homelander’s entire glam squad! what an opportunity! now let’s try real hard not to let the fumes get to you, okay?

pairing : homelander/afab reader

word count : 5.6k

warnings : homelander in and of himself, toxic workplace environment, something akin to stockholm syndrome, fingering, smut. 18+, mdni

special thanks to @blindmagdalena @sehtoast @homeb0ys and @clockworkzeppelin for letting me scream at you about this!

writing tag

gif credit

divider credit

Homelander is an asshole.

That doesn’t bother you much. You’ve dealt with plenty in this field, which means you’ve learned how to make life easier for all parties. That particular learning curve includes when to stand out and blend in, at times concurrently depending on what variety of asshole they happen to be.

As a whole, the makeup artists and hairstylists at Vought take care of The Seven and go where they’re needed. And as a cosmetologist, you were hired to provide both services for Homelander and Homelander only, which you consider to be one of the most prestigious stamps one could add to their professional passport.

Before you became official, you were colorfully threatened by a Ms. Ashley Barrett, who, after the fact, had no qualms throwing you into the lion’s den to figure your own shit out.

In no uncertain terms were you told that if you fucked any part of this up, your sparkling resume would look best as something to sit her smooth, bare ass on while getting fucked on top of her desk. No lube or protection. It would then be tossed exactly like her salad.

Not an image you could have ever predicted crossing your mind. Honestly, you should have stopped her right there and walked your happy little ass out of her office toward pastures that might have not been greener (you were being handsomely compensated), but certainly not as toxic. While the red flags were a color you couldn’t quite ignore, you were also curious about why they stood out so much more than they did regarding previous employers.

None of this is to say you live under a rock. Anyone who has access to the internet is ambushed daily by these Supes’ personal lives. Homelander’s track record as far as choice in partners went hadn’t been ideal, so you understand that made him less popular at the time. That of course has nothing to do with you or your capabilities.

You opt to wear gray-colored glasses, seeing everything with a neutral blend of black and white. As much as possible anyway.

Nevertheless, curiosity killed the cat. But hopefully not your career.

The first day was awkward to say the least. Immediately, you knew you weren’t going to like your coworkers.

Glints of sympathy changed how they perceived you. A target, whether they intended for this to happen or not, was nailed to your forehead, and it made them buzz around you like avid, greedy wasps keen on seeing how rapidly the honeybee will be brutalized. You didn’t much care for going cross-eyed while staring at that target whenever you crossed paths. They didn’t know you, yet because of who you were working under, deemed you helpless. They didn’t give you a chance to establish yourself before branding you a victim.

Why should you respect them?

Small talk wasn’t entertained either, as their judgment tarnished any future encounters. They ostracized you once you showed no interest in engaging with them. That didn’t disappoint you. You weren’t here to make friends.

You do wonder how those before you fared: if they were jaded when they arrived or if they couldn’t help but succumb to the pressures of being at the top rung of a very unstable albeit sought after ladder.

Ms. Barrett quickly introduced you to Homelander, her parting gift before leaving the two of you alone.

You weren’t completely nervous in his presence. He wasn’t any different to you than the other celebrities you’d worked on, except he could rip you in half like a piece of paper if he was so inclined. But he’s the hero of this country’s story, so really, you should have nothing to worry about.

His demeanor, you noted, suggested arrogance, annoyance, and boredom. All things you’re used to. So you offered your hand to shake, which he eyed with a slightly upturned nose before grabbing, told him it was a pleasure to meet him and got straight to business.

Looking back, he was clearly expecting more out of you. Maybe not a display as excessive as getting on your knees and professing your undying love, but close enough. Somewhere in the middle, perhaps.

Part of you believes he might have also counted on fear. To you, he’s not anything or anyone unknown. Another big name in a fancy suit with impossible demands.

You were given a routine to follow and products to use. You did as you were instructed and found the process to be simple and, as Homelander’s expression revealed, uninspiring.

While you were utilizing a face brush to apply powder, he must have decided he was done enduring your lack of enthusiasm, because he suddenly asked, “What are you wearing?”

You stopped for a split second, no longer than, and continued. “The name of my clothing designer, you mean?”

He scoffed, waving his gloved hand at you, almost knocking the applicator you held to the ground. “No, your perfume. What are the top notes?”

You laughed and that seemed to confuse him. “Why, you want a bottle?”

“I don’t like it.” He sniffed sharply and cleared his throat. “Smells like you should be on the corner selling your used body parts.”

Ding ding ding. Alarm bells and red flags galore. You enjoy a challenge, however, and are a bit of a masochist, so you persevere.

“Well, what doesn’t smell like a cheap hooker to you? I’ll start wearing that instead.”

He cocked a brow, studying you. Trying to figure out if you were being serious or mocking him.

“It’s your first day.” A warning. “Are you on your best behavior, or can you do better?” He leaned forward in his chair, forcing you backward. “You should be working harder to prove yourself. Prove your worth.” He sat back again and shrugged. “Or maybe you really are worth as much as that dumpster juice you doused yourself in.”

At this point, he more than likely envisioned your happy little ass getting offended and storming out of the room. Breaking down, sobbing. Questioning why he was being so rude. One of those or, better yet, a nifty combination.

You’ve heard worse, unfortunately for him. Not always directed at you, but that doesn’t matter. You can handle it.

“You’re absolutely right,” you stated calmly, folding your arms across your chest. He looked at you with pretentious, petulant intrigue. “It is my first day, and I want to make a good impression. Which is why I’m asking you what you would like me to wear so I can continue to keep that good impression intact and, as our professional relationship develops, stay on top of it.”

Homelander’s mouth twitched. He sighed deeply and slouched in his seat, staring at the wall to the left of him. Then he deigned to cast his gaze back at you, resting his cheek on his index and middle finger. He tapped the arm rest with his other hand.

“Ugh, fine. Whatever.” A pause followed that lasted longer than necessary. Were you meant to guess? “Just wear something, I dunno, less. If you would have done your homework like a good little peon, you’d know I have super senses. Highly developed. Can you even imagine what that entails?”

Finally, he freed the canvas you were nearly finished with, and you flicked the soft bristles across the bridge of his nose. You smiled, more to yourself than him.

Felt rather on the nose, as the saying goes.

He didn’t comment on your grin. You didn’t give him time to. But he did huff like you were being obtuse on purpose.

“I can try. And my imagination is giving me some less-than-ideal scenarios,” you replied. Another pause. At least he was letting you do your job again.

You don’t know what compelled you to keep going, but something about his lack of a real answer made you carry on. “Do you have a favorite flower or baked good? Maybe a spice?”

Homelander almost glared up at you. You say almost because, for whatever reason, it didn’t seem like he was directing that harshness at you, though former words and actions proved otherwise. Something inside, perhaps. Or outside of this enclosed space.

“I already told you what to wear. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

You took the hint and remained quiet the rest of your session. Soon, you were done.

As you were packing and tidying up your station, he took it upon himself to stand behind you. He lingered over your shoulder, watching the scene play out like he was director and star and you were barely an ant on the sidewalk he acknowledged before squashing.

The heat radiating off of him was impossible to dismiss, a wall of it barricading your backside. He clasped his fingers underneath his cape and inched closer. You thought he was as close to you as he could get without touching you. He was that warm.

When you glanced up, he was staring at you through the mirror. As absurd as it was, you managed to get chills. Goosebumps broke the surface of your skin.

“Fresh chocolate chip cookies. Straight out of the oven. Like mom used to make.” He flashed an unnerving smile before turning to exit.

From there on out, even after you bent to his will and found a gourmand scent that matched what he described, Homelander tested you. Your work ethic, clothing choice, eating habits, and most of all, patience.

Your parents would ask how you were liking your job, how it was working alongside the Supes- not to mention the most famous of all- and you’d lie through your teeth. You felt you had no choice, Ashley’s threat ringing in your ears.

Resume, bare ass, tossed salad...

Oh yeah, it’s going great! They’re all super flexible. I couldn’t be happier!

At least that pun made you feel a little better about hiding the shame of what you’ve allowed yourself to take on.

This was all in the first few weeks. It started to get a little easier after that, which is surprising considering more was added to your to-do list.

You should have moved on before starting. But, for whatever asinine reason, you didn’t.

Every time you go back to your apartment and assess your appearance in the bathroom mirror, you wonder who’s making who up here. He’s changing your looks more than you are his. You’re like his human doll.

You’ve put up with a lot over the years, but this takes the cake and shoves it in your face. As fucked as it is, the flavor is growing on you. Like a fungus. Growing, nonetheless.

You can’t stop thinking about him.

It’s innocent enough, you try convincing yourself. Making sure you have the right outfit laid out the night before, the right lunch (no onions or fish or anything “freaky”!), etc. He is your superior, after all. You shouldn’t be viewing him in any other light.

He’s the most frustrating aspect of your existence these days, but he’s also the one you’re around the most. His penchant for workplace gossip and how unintentionally funny he is tends to make him palatable, which has regrettably become an understatement.

Months go by. You’ve witnessed how alone he truly is. How he has nothing outside of performing his tricks on Vought’s all-encompassing stage. And when he begins asking for your input, starts doing things for you that are so blatant it’s perplexing, you find your stress and vexation melting into cumbersome fascination.

It’s embarrassing. You don’t have the courtesy of enough time to dwell on your feelings toward the situation either, from beginning to whatever end you might be met with. You suppose that could be beneficial in the long run.

It also hits you when you least expect it; when you really don’t want it to.

Your body doesn’t wait until you finally have a moment alone. It decides, while you’re helping Homelander with his skincare routine that he insisted upon because you know more than these vacuous corporate douche-bags, to heat up without warning and slither from your head to your heart until it grasps you unfairly between your legs.

You try not to step into momentary paralysis. You understand to what extent his powers reach. It’s not like he doesn’t go on and on about them. About himself.

Whatever he notices, it’s not right away. A palpable tension fills the air between the two of you eventually. But it takes a more significant amount of time than you would have anticipated to permeate the natural flow of things.

Fuck, you can’t even be safe inside here, where your thoughts, whatever they may be, are yours. You can’t even have yourself. He has every part of you, and you are willingly relinquishing that control.

Your evening, once you can have it, consists of combing over every decision you’ve made leading up to this strange, disorienting space you find yourself occupying. All it does is leave you exasperated in a much different way than before and with an unsettling observation (or hallucination):

Was that the tail end of the American flag outside your window?

You are unacceptably late.

Rushing around, you throw on the first top and bottoms you see from your closet and spritz some perfume on your neck and wrists. You don’t check your phone. You’re afraid of what will pop up on your screen. And, frankly, you don’t have the time.

Your only option for transportation is the subway, as you’re sure the special vehicle from Vought is long gone. Why would they wait for someone like you, even if you’re practically Homelander’s personal assistant? One of his only friends. You doubt he has more than Black Noir, and that isn’t as perfect as it appears to the casual viewer.

You dread what kind of explosion you’re without a doubt walking into once you show your miserable ass up. You’re going to smell like everyone on this train. He’s going to go ballistic.

The question remains: why are you continuing to put yourself through this? It’s not your circus, yet somehow, the monkeys have become your liability.

You know, deep down, what keeps you going back. It’s simply too ridiculous to admit aloud.

Making your way past security, hurriedly presenting your badge, you realize you forgot to brush your teeth, or at the very least, gargle some mouthwash. You thank your lucky stars when you open your purse to a pack of gum tucked away in one of the compartments.

It will have to do.

When you open the door to Homelander’s dressing room, you see a couple of employees standing near the counter where the bag of supplies has been opened and rifled through, looking like they might soil themselves, a frantic Ashley, and an extremely pissed off Homelander in the middle of it all.

Reflexively, you cringe. You attempt to wipe any trace from your features, but it’s too late. Ashley is glaring daggers at you and Homelander can hardly bring himself to look in your direction. The others don’t matter to you. They never did.

“I’m so sorry I’m late. I know there’s no excuse-”

“You’re goddamned right, there’s no excuse! I don’t give a shit if god and his whole fucking choir of angels came down from heaven and divinely called you to give them a makeover! What were you thinking?!”

You’re about to answer, though you comprehend her query is more or less rhetorical. She interrupts your slightly open mouth while gesturing wildly, proving your point.

“Oh, that’s right! You weren’t thinking at all, were you?! But I do believe you’ve thought long and hard about what’s at stake here. And you know damn well we at Vought don’t tolerate this kind of sloppy behavior. Not to mention the way you’re dressed! It’s adding insult to injury!” Her hand swipes at the air, the length of your outfit, and you glance down, recognizing how comically mismatched you are. Her correct observation affects you more than it would have months prior, stinging your ego- one of the many things that’s been shelved in order to accommodate the person who won’t even grace you with a glance.

A dramatic groan cuts short any further commentary from the redhead, perpetually stretched thin between her absurd duties.

“Jesus Christ, Ashley, why are your big fucking horse gums still flapping?” Homelander’s booming voice slices through your mind like a jarring, dense migraine. He pinches his brow between middle finger and thumb, eyes closed. “I want you and Tweedledee and Tweedledum t’get the fuck out. Now.”

Ashley is plainly dumbfounded, struggling to see where she went wrong (a pattern when it comes to dealing with the volatile leader of The Seven), mouth agape. She shakes her head. “But sir, are you-?”

“You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about or doing. Clearly.”

Ms. Barrett turns a shade paler, staring at Homelander and blinking owlishly before snapping herself out of her stupor. She hurries her lackeys out of the room, shooing them along like a pair of misbehaving toddlers. She doesn’t give a final look, no further warning. She merely shuts the door behind her.

You also hear it lock.

What the hell does she think is going to happen?

You should have stopped this while you had the chance. You should have never taken this job. You should have stood up for yourself and walked out. You should have you should have you should-

“Who the fuck do you think you are?”

His caustic tone sends shivers down your spine. It’s unlike anything you’ve heard come out of him. And you’ve heard enough.

Again, you open your mouth. It fills with blood, thick and metallic and more potent than the mint from your gum. You’re silenced by it.

He stalks toward you and grabs you hastily by the shoulders, swiveling you around so you’re face-to-face with the choices you’ve made. Your mirrored image is reflected back at you, exhausted and searching for any last shred of who you might be beneath his heavy palms.

“Look at yourself! Do you even recognize who’s staring back at you?” No.

“What kind of game are you playing, hmmm? Is this… humiliating spectacle you’re putting on for the money? Your pathetic career? Like it’s goddamned rocket science to pick up a can of hairspray and use it. Monkeys have hands.” He makes a noise that’s akin to a snorting horse, exhaling forcefully past his nostrils. “I mean, did you really think you could pull a fast one on me?” He clutches your jaw, squeezing it between middle and thumb. Every muscle in your body tenses, your heart picking up rhythm.

“Spit that fucking gum out. Don’t think I can’t hear you grinding it between your molars like a dumb animal. You aren’t a mama bird, are you? Y’don’t have cute little baby birds t’force-feed your regurgitated leftovers, do you? Eugh, gross.”

You take a deep breath and exhale through your nose. It presents you with a false sense of security. You do as you’re told, and it lands on the floor in front of your shoe, saliva dangling on a thread as withered as your sanity.

Suddenly fresh breath seems like the most insignificant issue, when Homelander himself once made it out to be something earth-shattering.

You’re such a fool.

He leans in and sniffs your throat. Your fingers lengthen and bend.

You’re so many things at once. Confused, angry, nervous, scared. And, to your dismay, warm. God you’re so fucking warm. He’s heating you up from the inside out. You clench your jaw, still held in place by a firm bind.

“Get rid of those ugly clothes. I don’t care what you have to do. I can’t stand the sight or smell of them.”

You shut your eyes. When you open them, all you see is red. The other emotions are smothered in favor of that brand of heat. What happens next is a blur. You temporarily leave yourself.

“Fine. Have it your way, Homelander. You always do.”

Breaking free of his fluctuating hold, you start tearing at what you’re wearing, tossing everything- including your bra and underwear- to the ground. Your shirt winds up with the gum sticking to its loose fabric. You even take your shoes and socks off, not paying any heed to where your belongings go. Just that they’re gone.

You don’t process the glaring fact that you made yourself naked in front of your boss. In front of the most powerful man this country, and possibly world, has known. You don’t care that things have escalated this far. That they shouldn’t have. They shouldn’t have. But guess what? They did. And these are the consequences you both have to deal with.

“You wanna know what game I’m playing?” You turn around, forcing him backward. “It’s funny, I thought you’d be able to answer that for me, considering all the hoops I’ve had to jump through to not only save my ass, but make sure you had someone to talk to at the end of the day! Who on your team can you say goes above and beyond like that for you?!” He blinks at you now, eyes wide. Features fall to the floor where your clothes reside. You have his full and undivided attention.

An impressively dangerous thing to have.

“What more do you want from me, Homelander? I practically live with you without any of the benefits that usually includes! You’re really going to stand here and berate me like I haven’t given you fucking everything you’ve ever asked me for? Because I made one mistake? I gave up my entire world, which I know doesn’t mean shit to you. But it does to me.”

You fold your arms over your chest. Nothing covers it. You have to know before you lose all dignity. So you ask once more, hoping it won’t get lost in this bizarre mess.

“What do you want from me?”

Nothing. He can’t stop staring at you. You aren’t aware enough to be ashamed, but you are aware enough to be upset.

His infuriating silence compels you to bend down and gather what was a barrier between the two of you. You are no longer needed if he can’t do what he does best, which is spout off, leaking bottled words everywhere like a broken faucet. It’s a pretty simple question, you think.

That’s when the glass behind you shatters.

You flinch, pause what you’re doing and slowly stand. Cautious in whatever your next approach will be.

Surveying the aftermath, you’re relieved to find that you’re far enough away from the mirror so no injuries were inflicted.

When you finally lock eyes with the source, you see red. The atmosphere surrounding you heaves like the distended belly of a rotting corpse; hisses like an overflowing tea kettle; pierces you like lightning.

Homelander’s expression is rigid. His jaw quivers. Irises are a bright, shining scarlet. If you try anything rash, you might be next. But, having been around him for so long, you’re more inclined to believe he’s having trouble processing his own emotions. And that might have been one of the only ways to release them.

You drop the top and pants you managed to reclaim. Your brain hasn’t fully recovered from the constant devastating hit it’s taken, so you don’t want to put a name to what’s pushing you forward. You don’t stop until you’re directly in his line of vision.

Swallowing, you carefully extend your hand. The ruby color begins to crumble and give way to the vast ocean you might have drowned in one too many times. You lost track, blocking what you could out. Too real and intimate to accept for a realm that thrives off of inauthenticity and misfortune.

Homelander inhales harshly and you retreat, pupils hooking themselves to his. Searching for any sign you shouldn’t be right where you are.

Of course there are several; unfortunately, you are currently blind to them. Blind to everything but him.

That’s how it’s been for awhile, hasn’t it?

He has a habit of not granting you the luxury of time.

Quickly, he snatches your wrist and brings your palm flat against his cheek. He exhales, eyelids fluttering, nuzzling into you.

It’s so simple, yet it disarms you in ways you aren’t accustomed to.

Homelander basks in this chaste display of affection, and so do you, in awe of how enraptured he appears. Soaking you inside of his pores.

In turn, your cognizance reappears. You nearly topple over, realization infiltrating every part of you.

You’re not wearing a stitch.

A knock at the door startles you both. You glance over in that general direction and hear from the other side, “You’re on in fifteen, Homelander, sir!”

Gazing back up at him, you witness that same fire expand at a rapid rate. You use your other hand to bring him back down to reality, to ground him. It rests against his chest, delving into and cracking his ribs, flaying him open.

What strikes you is how vigorously his heart is beating. How you can feel it through his uniform.

This is how much you affect him. (Can you fathom that you’re only privy to a fraction?) Having evidence of the tiniest reciprocation drains you of any unwanted discomfort.

His fury subsides. You breathe out. He does, too.

“Go sit in your chair. I came here to do my job, after all.” The tenderness with which you speak seems to ease him further, his shoulders deflating with each word.

That aside, you’re playing with a lit match. You’re unsure who’s going to set who ablaze, but you’re willing to go down with this entire building to find out.

He does as he’s told, watching you the whole way like a mutilated mixture of a snarling cornered animal and a man fervently in love. He almost trips into his seat, not an ounce of grace in his gait.

Sacrificing his entire image just to get a glimpse of you.

Whipping his cape to the side, he sinks into the cushion. You get things ready as you typically do, your movements a bit jittery from the adrenaline sending haphazard jolts to your limbs. Despite this, you’re focused. You are more focused than you remember ever being.

You work efficiently, keeping in mind the limit that’s been put on your time.

Homelander bores holes through you. He doesn’t need lasers for that. You’re exposed and vulnerable and he pries what he fostered apart until it’s distinguishable by no one else but him.

You relearn his perfectly manufactured features. Different lights shape shadows you either haven’t seen before or feigned ignorance of. You commit to memory how he looks, smells, feels, the side of your hand grazing his cheek and hanging on.

He’s invigorating, your excitement building to a crescendo you can’t neglect. The heat in your core disperses, most of it congregating low in your belly and behind your expanding rib cage. His pupils drink you in, urgently and violently.

Your arousal is heady. He licks his lips. A hint of a whine caresses your ears and it makes you dizzy.

How could you have ever denied yourself?

You decide to take further control, testing the waters to a greater extent.

It’s your turn to watch him the whole way down. You straddle him, easing yourself atop his taut thighs.

After a few moments of humoring yourself, of pretending to concentrate on your work, dusting his nose with powder, you straighten. Eye contact has not been severed.

You motion toward his hands, balled into tense, repressed fists at his sides.

“Take off your gloves.”

Initially, it feels like maybe you said the wrong thing, or said it the wrong way. He doesn’t budge. You’re patient, however, so you wait like you’ve always done, the warmth from your cunt mingling with the hardness beneath you. Your mouth waters.

At last, Homelander nods and removes his gloves, tugging on the index of each. He places them on the armrests and transfixes himself to you once more.

“Do you want to touch me?” you ask, voice and body staying impossibly still in spite of your nerves.

Immediately, he shakes his head, “Yes,” the first time he’s spoken since your outburst, and without hesitation, reaches for your chest. You close your eyes, falling into his snooping lifts and tugs and squeezes, giving yourself permission to become possessed by the inhibited imaginations of how selfish, how rapacious his touches might be. How smooth his bare hands are, how ardent each digit is.

Leaning into you, he sucks one nipple into his mouth and palms the other, moaning and vibrating against your flesh. He digs his fingers into the pliant softness of your hip, steadying you with disciplined pressure. You squirm, attuned to every minuscule shift.

The lit match is tilted toward you now, swift and stunning. Your fingers release the brush you’ve been holding. It aligns with the slit of the cushion, forgotten and purposeless.

You wrap your digits around the hand on your curves and guide him toward your throbbing center. He doesn’t fight you. Doesn’t stop your movements. Doesn’t scold or challenge you. Instead, he curls his fingers in a way that makes you unabashedly moan, cupping your folds and pinning his thumb to your clit, adapting to your anatomy.

Your wants.

It seems like breaking away from you is a daunting task, but he does for a moment, brow furrowed, more engrossed and invested than you’ve ever witnessed.

“Fuck.” The curse sounds downright edible, your new favorite flavor. Your name tumbles from his lips like he’s been practicing, a sweet, rich icing on top. You gasp, his tongue adhering to you again, swirling around your peak before lightly biting it.

Rocking your hips back and forth, side-to-side, you grind hard into his palm. He strokes you like he’s studied what pace you prefer, how much friction you crave. You’re so wet, even you’re thrown off by it.

Once he’s finished with your chest, he’s back against the seat, unable to peel his gaze from you. Your full, swollen, glistening breasts.

His mouth hangs open, obscene, desperate whimpers slipping from it. Pupils are like whirlpools that drive you under. Drive you mad.

Homelander adeptly slips two, three digits inside your sopping cunt, unrelenting in his intentions to make up for lost time. The voracity of his actions propels you forward, balancing against his chest. He grasps and pulls at your other hip, groaning loudly in your ear, confirming his approval of how close you are to him.

It’s still not enough.

Pulling you even tighter to his blinding sun of a body, he encloses his free arm around you and desperately bucks his waist. “I want… I want… I want…” he chants. Your nails drag up his neck and along his scalp, overwhelmed by his warmth, his scent, him. Your lips ghost the sliver of skin above his collar, making him growl.

You anticipate and dread and yearn for what’s been building for so long. You clench and release, clench and release, clench and release, body chanting with him.

You’re intuitively thankful for the chair’s sturdiness; however, if it would have collapsed, you’re honestly not sure you would have noticed. Or cared.

You hear him come first. Feel the temperature rise temporarily. It’s so sudden and all-consuming that you naturally follow, his name an instinct you can’t help but divulge. You haven’t come down from the turbulent emotions rushing through you earlier, and that combination catapults you over the edge.

Your orgasm draws more deliberate, vehement grunts and sighs of satisfaction from him, as if your pleasure is inexplicably the same or worth more than his.

You can’t crumple into a boneless heap like you want to. You just can’t. You have to look at him. Look at his bliss; the glazed, barren-yet-so-full-of-you expression, of what these months of working in close quarters have done to him.

What you uncover is not what you were picturing. There’s a mixture of that haze with something almost apologetic below the teeming surface. Clouds of red to skies of blue. Destructive in and of themselves.

Sliding his fingers from your wetness, he wraps his lips around each one that was inside of you and spreads them apart. Your slick sticks to his glossy skin and stretches between digits, a generous amount. You whimper at the loss- the emptying, hollow feeling- and watch, mesmerized and delirious as he savors you.

Swallowing you whole, Homelander sweeps his knuckles across the apple of your cheek and presses his lips hard against yours. He wastes no time inhaling your gasps and moans, licking your mouth and the faint taste of mint, stealing it from you. You ingest what you can of him as well, exploring what was open to you longer than you realized.

He then seizes your wrists. It’s a rough gesture that evaporates into gentle circles along your pulse points. Still, you know you’re going to bruise where he turned the key and locked you into place: wherever he is.

A visible sheen coats his lips.

“I want you to tell me I’m good. Great. The best.”

His breathing is labored. So is yours.

He kisses the inside of the wrist smeared with perfume, your fluids, his saliva; ends with your hand and rests his cheek against the slope of it.

“I want you to be mine. All mine. Mine alone.”

You’re shaking. He moves forward and pets your hair, twirls it; grabs your nape and holds his thumb to the front of your throat. Securing you. Keeping you there.

“You have to stay. Be mine and stay.”

You thrum with an ache he forced upon you. He’ll claim you were starving and he was the only one who could satiate.

You nod. You were never going to leave to begin with.

Homelander made you his. And you thanked him for it.

[xxbimbobunnyxx]

ok so hear me out. rafe and weird!girl get into an argument and rafe calls her weird or says something about her being normal for once and my girl gets all upset as she should.

Nonnie, are you in my walls? I’m very much having a day like this. This is heavily based on the day I had today and writing it made me feel sm better. Slight angst. Fluff. 1.8K words. NO MINORS!! (Note: weird!girl is autistic coded bc I am autistic)

You were extremely overwhelmed. It feels like every single thing is out to get you today. Before you and Rafe left to go on your first grocery shopping trip since you moved in together you got into a bit of a disagreement over the list. You are extremely picky. You have set safe foods that you like to stick to and you don’t like to stray from them. But Rafe on the other hand would eat almost anything. He couldn’t wrap his mind around the fact that you wanted to live off of freezer waffles and chicken nuggets when he hired a professional chef for the two of you.

“Baby, why would I buy you the cheap freezer shit when I can have it made from scratch all fancy n shit?” It wasn’t about the price, you know that. It was just that Rafe wanted you to have the best of everything he could possibly give you and sometimes you just wanted the simpler things. Something that he’s still trying to understand.

“It’s just… I don’t want that. I want the ones from the store. That I always get. The ones I like.” Your lips were formed into a pout as you looked down at your lap and played with the rings on your fingers.

“Aight, Bats, if that’s what you want.” He shrugged and kissed your forehead before leaving you to finish getting ready. It was what you wanted. But you could tell it wasn’t what he wanted so you felt bad. You didn't want to be an inconvenience.

So after that you got in your head that you were too much for him. You spent the entire card ride to the grocery store thinking about how a normal girl wouldn’t want specific foods. A normal girl would be more than happy to have a personal chef make them anything and everything they wanted. A normal girl would be able to go to those fancy restaurants Rafe likes because she’d actually like anything on the menu. He tried to take you once and you spent the entire meal picking at your plate of chicken and veggies, so he never tried again settling to go places that had things you actually liked.

Then at the store you were so in your head that if you hadn’t made a list you probably wouldn’t have gotten a single thing you wanted. You couldn’t stop feeling like you were a burden to him because you needed him to buy you an entirely different grocery list from his own. You kept trying to put things back. Or tell him you didn’t need things that you did, in fact, need. You could tell Rafe was getting frustrated with you and it only made you want to shut down even more.

It didn’t help that the grocery store was easily one of your least favorite places. The lighting was awful. There were always so many people everywhere not looking where they’re going. The freezer section was always so cold that you spent that entire section of the shopping trip practically shaking. It was so goddamn loud. People talking. Kids crying. The squeaking of the old grocery cart wheels. So going there when you were already feeling overwhelmed was a recipe for disaster.

You fully lost it when you were checking out. The cart was extremely disorganized because you were too checked out to keep it in order the entire trip. The store you were at had it so you bagged your own groceries so the fact that the cart was a complete disaster made bagging them incredibly difficult. You were struggling to keep up with the cashier and also bag the groceries efficiently. He kept pushing the conveyor belt button, rolling the groceries that you haven’t bagged yet to pile up on top of each other at the end of it. The cart was full of bags and you weren’t even half done so you had to run and grab another one, only letting the pile grow further.

Rafe bought a case of beer and it the midst of you trying to frantically bag everything in a timely manner the cashier also asked you for your I.D. Which only frustrates you more. You don’t even drink beer. And it made you have to pause bagging again to dig in your purse. The cashier kept looking from the card to you and back again, like he thought it was fake.

“I know I look nothing like that, that was 7 years ago.” You didn’t mean to sound snippy, but you were pretty much at your limit.

“Baby, it’s fine, he’s just lookin’ for the date.” Rafe shot you a look and it only pissed you off more.

“Well he’s looking at it like it’s fake or some shit!” You scoffed as you slammed a full bag into the cart. Which only earned you another look from Rafe.

On the way home he hardly talked to you, instead he decided to blast trap music when you were clearly already overstimulated so you decided to put your headphones on and drown him out.

“Bats, the fuck is going on with you today, huh?” Rafe is towering over you the minute you enter the kitchen, backing you up against the counter.

“I just don’t like the grocery store. And you made me feel bad about the food. And everything was just so loud in there. And I felt like you hardly talked to me the entire time. I’ve felt like an inconvenience to you all day!” You snap at him as you stomp your foot in frustration, glaring up at him.

“All we did was go to the fuckin’ store. You’re seriously that worked up over it?” Rafe scoffs, running a hand through his hair.

“Yes! I am! The grocery store is extremely stressful for me and you’re not being considerate of that!!”

“That’s ridiculous, people go to the grocery store every day. It’s not a big deal. I don’t know why you can’t just be fuckin’ normal sometimes.” Rafe throws his hands up, letting them fall against his thighs with a smack. The minute the words leave his mouth your bottom lip starts to quiver as tears brim your eyes. And he knows he fucked up. Immediately he knows he fucked up.

“You know what? Why don’t you go find a normal girlfriend then!?” You push against his chest, running past him to your shared bedroom. You slam the door behind you, sliding down it as the tears in your eyes begin to spill down your cheeks. You knew it.

“Baby…” Rafe’s voice travels through the thick wood as he lightly taps on it. “ I’m sorry… that was- I shouldn’t have- Bats, can you open the door, please?”

“No. Go away.” You whimper as you curl further into yourself against the door.

“Baby girl, please? Just wanna talk. Lemme see you.” He turns the knob, pushing on the door lightly causing you to shift forward slightly. “C’mon, get away from the door, let me in.”

“Why don’t you go find a normal girl to talk to.” You snap at him before trying to push back against the wood but he’s so much stronger than you that it doesn’t even budge. Rafe shoves his foot into the crack of the door, pushing it until he can slip through. It slams shut behind him from your weight, causing you to yelp. He drops to his knees in front of you, taking your face in his hands. “Baby, look at me.”

“No.” You shake your head, subconsciously nuzzling into his touch. Your lips are quivering so bad your teeth are chattering as tears flow down your cheeks and Rafe kind of wants to kick his own ass.

“Listen I- I shouldn’t have said that, okay? I didn’t - fuck baby, I didn’t mean that shit. I was just frustrated. Doesn’t make it okay though, never wanna make my girl cry.” Rafe runs his thumbs down the apples of your cheeks, wiping away the salty tears that continue to fall. “I think I’ve gotten pretty damn good about knowing how you work. But with us living together now there's gonna be new shit that I’m gonna have to pick up on. I’m so sorry princess.”

“I just - I - just wanna be enough for you. Don’t wanna be a burden.” Your body tries to curl in on itself even more but Rafe doesn’t let it, he grips onto your hips and pulls you into his lap. He wraps his strong arms around you as he starts to rock you back and forth.

“Want you to listen to me baby, aight?” He takes your jaw in his hand, tilting your head towards his to get you to look at him. When you do it nearly cracks his heart. He hates that he made you feel like everyone else always has. “I never should’ve fucking said that shit. I didn’t mean it. Not even a little bit. I wouldn’t change a single thing about you, okay? I fuckin’ love you and all your weird little shit. Your weird little shit just makes me love you more. I’ve never known anyone like you. You’ve taught me so much. I guess I’ve just still got some shit to learn. But I’m trying, Bats. I’ll never stop trying.”

“You really mean it?” You sniffle as you look up at him through your teary eyes and Rafe has never felt more bad than he does at this moment. If he saw anybody else making you cry like this they would be so fucked and here he is, doing it.

“Of course I fuckin’ mean that shit, baby girl. I’m sorry for losing my patience with you today. I never, ever, wanna hurt you. Never wanna make you feel like all these other douchebags on the island do. Kind of want to run them all over, including myself right now.” Rafe lets out a dry chuckle when he sees the corner of your lips tilt up slightly. His large hand runs down the back of your head, smoothing down your hair as he continues to rock the both of you. “You know I love you more than anything, right?”

“It’s okay, Rafey. I know I can be too much sometimes. But I do know that you love me.” And you do. Especially right now. Rafe never opens up to you like this. And you kind of want to blow him right now.

“Hey, you aren’t too much, aight? Don’t ever let anyone make you feel that way. Including me, put my ass in check baby. God knows I need it.” He smiles down at you before leaning to place a gentle kiss on your lips. “Want me to put some nuggets in the air fryer for you and we can watch that movie you’ve been trying to get me to watch?”

“Mhm, that sounds perfect daddy.”

All things Rafe & his weird!girl here

[14dayswithyou]

[24 May 2022] First, I love your demo, your art, god I can't get Ren out of my head since the first time I played. Now my stupid questions. Ren gets asked on the street if he cosplayed Haruko? Since he is a walking cosplay And.... Where do I sign my marriage certificate with Ren?

Ty ty!! ♡ Ren has been stopped maybe 2 or 3 times out in public due to the striking similarities between him and Haruko, but in actuality, he /doesn't/ look 100% like Haruko! He only took the hairstyle and dressing-style aspects of Haruko and ran with it ^^'

For reference; Haruko's design is much more vibrant and his hair is faaaar more fluffier. Plus you have to take into consideration that Haruko is an anime character in Ren's world (whereas Ren is considered human)

Also Ren’s on his way with the marriage certificate right now 💀

[reorientation]

I don't want to fuck a dyke on top of her pride flag - I want to fuck her through it.

Tearing it down from her wall and pinning her underneath it, so that she feels my weight holding it against her skin as she realizes she can't escape.

Shoving a handful of it into her mouth when she tries to scream.

Cutting out tiny circles for her nipples, and then teasing them with my tongue until they're so hard they stick right through.

Rubbing her pussy through the flag until she starts to soak it against her will, then cutting away just the wet parts and pushing through to take her gold star.

And slicing all the rest in two when I'm getting close - so that I can see her laid bare beneath me, in the wreckage of her pride, as I fill her dyke pussy with my cum.

[h-c-u]

Was it ever really love?

Summary: You break up with your fiancé, and right after you throw your engagement ring at him, you go to Toto's room... 

Pairing: Toto Wolff x fem!reader 

W/C: 6.3k

Rating: +18, age gap, size kink, dirty talk, light dom/sub, oral sex (fem receiving), squirting, edging, choking, drooling, biting, breeding kink

TWs: dubious consent in the end (the reader is so consensually fucked out that TECHNICALLY she's not in the right state to agree to anything)

A/N: I mean... So that happened. Exactly what's in the rating. You are responsible for the media you consume, so if you're not into it - please scroll away :) Oh yeah, and it's like 90% smut.

Masterlist | List of tags

- Isn't it enough that I am telling you that I've never cheated on you!? - you were sure everyone in neighboring rooms and the corridor heard what you were fighting about.

- Apparently, it's not! How can I believe you if you're always with him!? You always run to him to sign something, pass the documents, and make sure he remembers about the meetings! For fucks sake, you do that even in the middle of the night, when you're in bed with me!

- Yes, BECAUSE THAT'S MY FUCKING JOB! IT'S LITERALLY IN THE DESCRIPTION BECAUSE I'M HIS FUCKING ASSISTANT!!! - you couldn't help raising your voice, because it definitely wasn't the first time you were fighting about it.

- OH, AND YOU'RE TELLING ME THAT YOU'RE THE ONE ASSISTANT NOT FUCKING THEIR BOSS!?!? - this conversation wasn't going anywhere, but neither of you was going to stop now.

- YES!!! THAT'S EXACTLY WHAT I AM TELLING YOU!!! - the stress of another lost race was getting to the both of you, and it was just too much. - Wait. Is that what it's all about!? You don't believe me, BECAUSE YOU'RE FUCKING YOUR OWN ASSISTANT!?!? - it suddenly hit you, and you started to connect dots in your head quicker than Sherlock Holmes. - Oh my fucking god, you are... - you had to sit down not to fall over.

- What gave you that idea? - he asked much quieter but equally angry.

- And you're not even denying it... How the fuck I could have been so fucking blind. Maybe you're right, maybe I was spending too much with him to notice that you are SUCH A FUCKING BASTARD. YOU MOTHERFUCKER!!! YOU CHOSE THE FUCKING DATE! - you stood up again and with a speed and intensity of a tornado, you started throwing your things in your bag. - YOU CHOSE THE FUCKING VENUE!!! – fortunately, you didn't have much to pack, since it was supposed to be just a weekend trip. - YOU STARTED MAKING A GUEST LIST!!! - you moved to the bathroom to get your things from there, and he didn't even try to stop you. - ALL THAT, WHILE YOU WERE FUCKING SOPHIE!?!? - he still hasn't denied that, and that was all you needed. - You know what...? - you closed the zipper of your bag with such vigor that you almost broke it. - We're fucking over, I'm done. And just so we're fucking clear - I never slept with him. Not even fucking once, you motherfucker. - it wasn't the best of your insults, but you no longer cared. You took off your engagement ring and threw it at him. - Here, give it to Sophie, I bet she'll love it since she took you second hand. - he didn't even try to stop you when you took your things and left. You were still fuming, and you honestly didn't know what you were supposed to do.

If anyone looked at you, they would be hit with a ricochet, and that wouldn't be good for anyone if you wanted to get another room in this hotel. And then it hit you. You knew exactly what you were going to do.

You marched down the corridor to the suite you were in so many times and with determination on your face, you knocked at the door. It was already late, but you knew he wouldn't be sleeping just yet, so you weren't afraid about waking him up.

- Y/n..? What do you need? - the door finally opened, and you had to look up to look Toto in the eyes.

- Funny you should ask. I need you to fuck the anger and frustration out of me. - you surprised not only him but also yourself with your boldness.

- I'm sorry, what? What about...? - he was clearly meant to ask about your now ex-fiancé, but you cut him off.

- We just broke up. - you motioned to the bag hanging currently on your arm. - So? Are you going to do it, or will I have to find someone else? - the adrenaline from the fight was still running high in your veins, that's why your voice wasn't shaking.

Instead of responding, your boss grabbed the strap of your bag and used it to pull you closer. You couldn't help but smile when you kicked the doors closed and he pushed you against it. You didn't even notice that the bag landed on the floor because he was already kissing you hungrily as his life depended on it, and you gave in... Well, at least for now.

His arms caged you against the door, which with his much taller figure meant that there was no way you could get away without him allowing you to do so. While the kiss was frantic and impatient, his other moves were much more calculated, because he put his knee in between your thighs, and started rubbing your crotch through the thick material of your jeans, but even that was enough to make you moan into his mouth, which only made him smile.

- If I knew you were such a horny pretty little thing, I would have done that much sooner... - he growled, bit your lower lip, and pulled on it, and you had no choice but to follow. And you did…

You kicked off the shoes off your feet and grabbed the front of his shirt, stopping him from moving further toward the bedroom, and while your bottom lip, was still locked in between his teeth, you aggressively sucked and bit his top lip, while reaching for his hands and putting them under your ass. You didn't have to say anything more, because he lifted you exactly when you jumped and locked your legs around his hips, which also meant that your faces were on a similar level now and he no longer had to crook his neck at the uncomfortable angle just to kiss you.

While he was walking in the direction of the bedroom, you started to unbutton your Mercedes-branded shirt, revealing a soft, see-through white bra, which left very little to the imagination. It didn't have any complicated lace pattern, but as soon as Toto saw it, he stopped kissing you and with his teeth grabbed one strap and pulled it down, and then the other, making it easier for you to take it off completely, but you knew he did that just to indulge himself because he didn't break the eye contact even for a moment and gave you a cheeky smile right after.

When the top part of your wardrobe landed somewhere on the floor, you finally moved to his. Due to the position of your hips, you couldn't unbutton it all the way, but he was already ahead of you. Sure, he could put you down, but the other option seemed much more fun, so he tossed you a bit higher into the air and moved his left arm, so now your ass was resting against his forearm, while his right was snaking under the white material. You pulled the shirt up just as his hand was on its way back to your butt cheeks. You maneuvered the material around his head and down his right arm, so he could take it off completely, and when he did, you were finally able to feel his hot skin clashing against yours. You could almost hear the blood rushing through your veins when you rubbed your whole torso against his. which got you a low growl deep from his chest.

You rested one hand on his shoulder, while the other found its way to the back of his neck, and you pulled him closer, catching his lips in yours. It was scarily easy to lose yourself in him, but right now you were far beyond caring and there was no time or space for any feelings between you two right now.

Only a few seconds passed since you kicked the doors closed, yet somehow it felt like a small eternity filled with so many sensations... The taste of his tongue on yours... His natural scent filling your nostrils and making you lightheaded... His hot skin under your fingers and against our body... His hands, kneading your ass while gently moving you up and down, forcing you to grind against him... His rough kisses leaving your lips puffed and oversensitive... It was like he knew exactly what you needed and was giving it to you without any questions.

- Be a good girl and unbutton your jeans... - he whispered in between the kisses, and you happily obliged, sliding your hands over his naked torso, until you got to the band of your trousers and undid both the button and the zipper. He slowly moved first one hand under the material and then the other, so there was another point of skin-to-skin contact, and you realized you were finally in his bedroom with his legs touching the edge of the bed.

He gently put you on the sheets; the tenderness in this move was contrasting so much with everything both of you were doing up to this point, which surprised you a bit. Especially when he slowly started pulling your pants and underwear down, kissing, licking, and biting every new patch of skin that showed up on your right leg, and it somehow turned you on even more. And when you were completely naked in front of him, he went right back up, marking every part of your other leg, until he stopped on the inside of your thigh, so close to your core.

- Are you sure you want this...? - he asked quietly, giving you one last chance to back out. And you knew that if you chose to do that, he would have never mentioned whatever just happened. But you not only wanted it… You needed it. You needed to get rid of all emotions, to forget, to throw away all the stress and anger currently bubbling under your skin.

- Yes, I am sure... And don't hold back, I need to feel anything but emotions. - you added, although based on his actions leading to this moment, you suspected you didn't need to.

- Your wish is my command... - you couldn't help but smile at the sight of the devilish grin that sprawled on his lips, but instead of being rough and messy, like he was just a few minutes ago, he started gently licking your slick from the outside part of your folds... You could feel the scratch of his unshaven five-o-clock shadow on the inside of your thigh and his warm breath just where you wished his tongue was, but he was merciless and meticulous as if he wanted to savor every little part of you. And with every lick and every gentle suck, you were getting more and more sensitive, so when he finally dove in, you were already panting, grasping the sheets in your hands, and you simply couldn't stop squirming and bucking your hips, even when he bit the inside of your thigh as a warning.

So instead of following your unpredictable moves, he wrapped his arms around your thighs in an iron grip so you weren't able to move your hips even by an inch... And he went right back down, pulling you flush against his mouth and keeping you there, no matter how hard you tried to react, to move even closer, or away from the sudden overstimulation. His tongue was circling around that sensitive bud, focusing a little bit more on the place just above it and it made your vision go white.

- Ffffuck... Just like that... Don't stop, don't stop, don't stop, don't stop, don't stop... - and he definitely didn't. He also didn't slow down or sped up, because he was experienced enough to realize that when a woman was telling him not to stop, it didn't mean to change anything, so he did just that until your whole body curled up. You squeezed his head with your thighs and grasped his hair with your hands so hard, that it actually hurt, but even then he didn't stop completely, licking your juices while you were trying to catch your breath, and when he felt your body relaxed in his arms, he picked up the tempo again, determined to make you forget everything but his name.

The sounds his tongue made in between your soaked folds were lewd and obscene, but you didn't have time to focus on any of that, because you could feel the second wave approaching much quicker than the first one. This time you looked down, and your heart skipped a beat when you saw his piercing dark eyes drilling into your soul with such intensity... You realized you won't be able to walk straight after the things he'll do to you, and just the thought of it was enough to push you over the peak and you couldn't help but to break the eye contact, because your eyes rolled back...

You could feel the electricity running through your body until it reached every single nerve ending, sending you into such an overstimulated state, that even the slightest touch hurt. His arms locked around your hips felt as if they were made of metal, his tongue was made of fire, his 5 o'clock shadow became rough sandpaper, the sheets under your back were made out of tiny spikes, the air in your lungs felt like steam and yet... He didn't stop. And what was more important - you didn't tell him to stop... You wanted him to pull you to the top and push you over it again, and you knew he was more than capable of doing so. And he did just that... Only this time you almost blacked out from the intensity of it, but you could still feel the release of the accumulated pressure deep inside you. You didn't process why, but you felt him chuckling against your skin, and only then you realized that he was actually swallowing your release. Which could only mean...

You almost immediately hid your face in your hands from embarrassment... It was supposed to be a quick one-night stand with your boss, an act of revenge towards your ex-fiancé. But here you were. In his bed. Squirting.

Toto finally released his grip on your hips, so you could move again, but before you were able to do anything, you felt the weight shifting on the mattress, and you could tell he was crawling up.

- Such a tasty little pussy you have there... You've been holding out on me, dear. - he said in a voice deeper than you've ever heard him use, while slowly moving your hands from your face above your head, where he held them both in only one of his, while the other found its way under your chin and forced you to look at him. - Here, see for yourself... - he growled and leaned down to kiss you. Technically you could turn your head away, and tell him to stop, but after coming three times in a row, most of your inhibitions went out of the window.

You could taste yourself on his tongue... And honestly - you were pleasantly surprised. It was a bit sour, but not overwhelmingly so, with a hint of actual sweetness. You didn't know what you were expecting, but it wasn't this. And even though the taste quickly faded away from both of your mouths, you couldn't stop kissing him, while his free hand slowly traveled down your body, taking a short stop to gently squeeze your nipples, but when you bucked away from his touch there, he stopped and pulled slightly away so he could look at you, his eyes instantly full of familiar softness.

- Are you in pain? Tell me. - he demanded, and you wanted to hide your face again, but it would be hard at the moment. He didn't know you well enough to know what your boundaries were, and he didn't want to assume anything.

- I am not in pain... - you whispered. - Well, not like that. I'm fine, I promise. It's just... They're really fucking sensitive when... - you could feel your cheeks heating up.

- When...? - he urged you to finish that sentence.

- When I'm ovulating. So, if we could skip touching them, I'd be grateful. - you wanted to end this conversation as quickly as possible, but his devilish grin told you that he already had a plan.

- No touching it is... - he echoed. - At least for now... And tell me if anything I'm going to do will be too much. - you nodded, and as soon as you did, he moved a bit lower, so his face was lined up with your breasts. He very gently blew on one of your nipples, the cold air making it slowly tense and rise, which made you blush. No one ever showed you this kind of attention, so it was completely new.

You couldn't take your eyes off your boss, who was currently letting his saliva drop from his mouth directly onto your nipple, and as soon as it touched your skin, you felt the soothing coldness, which made you rapidly suck a substantial amount of air through your nose. Just as you did that, he gently blew on your wet skin again, and you couldn't stop a soft moan that escaped your mouth.

He continued doing that to your breasts until both were covered in a cold, slick mess, and you were squirming under him, because it just felt so good... You knew it shouldn't be, but somehow, he found a way to make it hot.

- I am going to touch now, but as soon as you tell me to stop, I will. Do you understand? - he asked, and you nodded enthusiastically, hands still above your head in his iron grip. He started on the outside of your breasts, gathering what was left of his saliva, and the contrast between your cold skin and his hot tongue made you arch your back, pushing everything closer to him, in search of that sensation again.

He was using just his tongue and his lips, making sure not to accidentally scratch your skin with his cheeks or chin currently covered in a rough stubble, since you've said you were sensitive to the point of pain. Your body was asking for more in such a pretty way that he couldn't say no, so he tested the waters and very gently run his tongue directly over your nipple, and when he heard the loud, obscene moan that left your lungs... It went straight to his cock. But tonight, wasn't about him... It was all about you. And he wanted to spend time getting to know your body better; to see how it reacted to his touch, where to push, press, where to pull, and what to do to get a reaction out of you.

You didn't know that, but he thought about having you for so long... All the long evenings together, you always being so close, the white branded shirt hugging your every feature so nicely... How could he not? There were times when his fist was closed around his cock as soon as you left the room, your subtle scent still present in the air, and he honesty couldn't count how many times he thought about you in the morning, under the shower, in the garage, in his office... So many places to fuck you, but you were unavailable… A forbidden fruit hanging so low, that he could practically taste it... But you were happily in love, and even though he knew he could make you much happier than that idiot, he didn't dare to do anything. Until you fell from the tree right onto his lap, and you were all his to take, to mark, to...

He let out a low growl to stop his thoughts from galloping where they shouldn't, instead focusing on your beautiful moans while he very gently sucked on your nipples, blowing on them from time to time to soothe the pain with coldness, and never spending too much time just on one... After all - he didn't want to hurt you, just to test your boundaries. And by your reaction, he could tell that he was far away from breaking you, so he slowly moved his hand down and gently rubbed your overstimulated clit, making your back arch into his touch.

You were relaxed enough from the previous orgasms, that he could start stretching you with not one finger, but with two, dividing his attention equally between your breasts and filling you in search for this sweet spot on your front wall, and when he found it... Music to his ears...

He would have never suspected that you would be so vocal, but here you were, moaning, begging, pleading, screaming for more, and he just couldn't refuse, so he added the third finger, filling you up more. There were tears streaming down your cheeks, leaving behind light streaks of mascara that was supposed to be waterproof. Gentle pain was mixing with extreme pleasure, his soft tongue and his rough fingers, his hot body and cool air... All the extremes were colliding with you in the exact center of it all. You were ready to fall apart, just to be built up again, and as if Toto was in your head, he began to put more pressure on your clit with his thumb, and that was enough to pull another orgasm from you, and you suddenly found yourself sitting and tightly holding his head against your chest, with your face in his hair. You didn't register when exactly he let go of your wrists, but you were finally free to touch him, to feel him, and you took full advantage of that, letting your hands run over his back.

- Fuck you're good... - he didn't say anything, the smirk on his face telling you everything you needed to know, and you shook your head with disbelief because you couldn't believe the cockiness. He knew he was a confident man, but this was different... - Thank you for that... I should... - you started, but the fingers that were still inside you started slowly moving again, making a beaconing gesture against your wall, and you inhaled sharply once again.

- Oh, darling... I'm just getting started... Have you honestly thought that I will just eat you out, stick a few fingers in your pussy, and that will be it...? - he teased you, playing just the right chords on your body. - Now that I finally had you, tasted you... I'm not letting you go so easily. - if his thumb wasn't putting constant pressure on your clit and his long fingers weren't filling and stretching you so nicely, maybe you would have been able to form coherent thoughts and say something. - And it would be a shame if your pretty little cunt missed out on something else stretching it and filling you to the brim, hmmm...? - you dug your nails in his shoulders because that was all you were able to do. He was learning your body so quickly and skillfully applying that knowledge in practice.

You were a perfect mess... Panting, too exhausted to even moan, and he hasn't even properly fucked you yet. Your hair was sticking to your face, and your whole body was covered with a thin layer of sweat, which was supposed to cool you down, but the fire he lit inside you was too strong, too hot, too overwhelming... It engulfed you whole, and there was no coming back; not when you knew how he could treat you... Just before he made you cum for the fourth time, he stopped, and the needy cry that left your lips was music to his ears. It was right then and there that you realized there was no chance that you wouldn't be back for more. And he was more than willing to give you everything you needed...

- Toto... Please... - you whispered against his neck, your hands holding to his body for dear life, so desperate for him to finish what he just started, but the devilish grin on his face told you that he had other plans. He gave your body a moment co calm down just enough so his next touch wouldn't push you over the edge again, and he started to tease you once more, this time purposefully missing that sweet spot on your front wall, while his fingers were still filling you ups so nicely, the burn of stretch almost completely non-existent. His thumb was grazing your clit from time to time, just enough to keep you on the brink of orgasm, but not enough to give you the release you so desperately wanted. And he kept you in that state for so long, that all the thoughts slowly started to disappear from your head, leaving behind only flaming heat and want.

- Oh, look at you... Such a desperate little slut and just for me... I bet he never got you to that state, didn't he...? - you could only shake your head, his words barely reaching you. – You’re so cock starved that you would let me do anything with you, just to have me inside you, wouldn’t you...? - you nodded enthusiastically and tried to reach down to unbuckle his belt, but he swatted your hands away. - Tell me first... - you weren't in a state to make any decisions... When your friends told you that they sometimes felt like a feral animal in heat, you thought it was just a figure of speech, but here you were... So overstimulated yet so filled with a specific need that your thoughts weren't your own; all that mattered was getting filled. - Would you let me cum inside of you...? Fill you up so much you would be leaking for days...? - you had no control over your nodding head, but everything he was saying sounded amazing. - Put a baby in you, mark you in every way possible so everyone everywhere will know that such a perfect little cunt belongs to me? - you weren't sure if you even stopped nodding in between questions when he was peppering your neck with soft kisses that felt like butterflies made out of fire, and you could have sworn that every little kiss left behind a bright red mark, but that wasn't possible... was it...? - You truly don't know what I'm talking about, don't you...? - his devilish smirk only made you giggle. - Oh baby, we're gonna have so much fun... - he growled and finally got his fingers out of you, brought them to your mouth and you started to suck on them eagerly, chasing that newly familiar taste, while he undid his trousers with one hand and freed his cock, but you were too focused on the fingers in your mouth to even realize what just happened.

Only when you felt something smooth running slowly in between your folds, you realized that you were finally about to get what you needed. You gently bit his fingers from excitement, because you had no other way to release all the emotions bubbling under your skin, and as soon as you did that, he took the fingers out of your mouth and roughly grabbed your jaw to the point of pain. He forced you to look him in the eyes while he was slowly entering you, with your lips parted in the shape of a perfect "o".

Even though you were drenched, and he took his sweet time preparing you, there was still some pain. Not enough for you to ask him to stop, not in the state you were in, but enough for you to need a moment to adjust, which he seemed to understand because instead of moving, he leaned and placed a soft kiss on your lips, such a contrast to the words he said just a couple of minutes ago.

You wanted nothing more than to grind against him, but being pinned down under him made that difficult, although he seemed to read your thoughts, because his hand slipped down your body until it reached your knee, brought it up, and pinned it to the mattress, opening you up even more, making the burn a bit more manageable. And then he slowly started to pull out... At first, there was still that uncomfortable feeling, but as soon as the head of his cock run over that sweet spot on your front wall, your whole body twitched.

- There it is... There is my greedy little slut... - he whispered with a satisfied smile on his face. If you were able to think, you would probably wonder how the hell he managed to stay so composed while you were a leaking mess with nothing behind your eyes, but all you managed to do was moan when he entered you again, slowly picking up the pace, and moving his eyes down. - You're taking me so well, darling... Your pussy looks so beautiful all stretched out around my cock, I really wish you could see it in all its glory... - his words were entering your brain with one ear and almost immediately leaving with the other, but that didn't matter... What mattered was the fact that you were so close you could almost taste it, and every time he dragged his head in and out, he was getting you closer and closer. - One day I'm gonna fuck you in front of a mirror just so you could see up close how perfect your cunt looks with me inside you, but for now... - he moved his hand from your jaw to your hand and brought it to your abdomen, covering it with his own there. At first, you weren't sure why he did that, but then you felt it... Your skin was bulging and stretching every time he entered you; you could feel the outline of his cock and now you regretted you haven’t seen it before he started fucking you.

And then he caught your gaze, and put more pressure on your hand, and by extension - himself and this simple thing were enough to send you rushing in the arms of another release, while he was holding your hand in one place with an iron grip. He didn't even slow down when you squirted again, wetting the bedding and his trousers with your release, he just pushed and pushed, and pushed, until you had nothing else to give, and yet he still managed to take even more.

He changed the positions a little bit, wrapping his arms under your shoulders to find more leverage, and started hammering into you at a brutal pace, while you were still high on your last orgasm, and you weren't even able to form even a simple "please". With your walls still spasming around him, it didn't take him long to finish, and when he did, he pushed deep into you, holding you in an iron grip, so there was no chance you could escape even if you wanted to. He harshly bit the place where your shoulder met your neck, leaving behind a mark that would definitely bruise soon, and just as he did that, you could actually feel his warm cum spraying against your wall, which ticked just a little, but that was the last thing on your mind.

He was still panting when you moved your hand to his neck and pulled him into a deep kiss. No words needed...

Eventually, he turned around, pulling you on top of him, careful not to slip out of you... His arms were wrapped tightly around you, keeping you in place, while your legs were spread around his hips.

Slowly but surely, your brain started to become your own again… You placed your hands under your chin and started thinking about the consequences of what just happened.

- Toto...? - you eventually said, your voice deep, raspy, and almost broken from all the moaning, screaming, and crying.

- Hmmm? - he asked, not even looking at you, but his thumbs started gently caressing your skin.

- Do you really want a kid? - he raised his head and looked at you with his eyes barely open.

- Not just any kid... - he replied. - I want you to bring our child into this world. And I don't want to stop just on one... - he smirked, and you smiled in reply. He knew that about a year ago you tried to get pregnant with your fiancé, and how excited you were to be a mum. A few times he was the one to actually drive you to your appointments, but even though everything was ok with you, you never managed to get pregnant with your now ex, which - from today's perspective - was more than fine.

- Then we better make sure it will take... - you knew this was crazy, but you actively chose not to think about it too much, which wasn't that hard with Toto's hands gently turning you around, switching your position and moving both of you from the wet patch of your doing, so both of you were on your side with your back pressed tightly against his torso. He finally kicked his damp pants off completely, so both of you were naked.

Even before he started slowly grinding against you, he was already growing inside you, which was a sensation you’d never felt before. You could feel your juices mixed with his release slowly dripping out of you and around him, but he did his best to fuck it right back into you. His left hand was on your abdomen, so he could feel himself through your skin, and he gently wrapped his right around your neck, putting a small amount of pressure. Not enough to cut either air or blood supply, but enough so you could be always aware of its heavy weight there.

This time he moved much slower, savoring every feeling, and focusing more on himself than on you, but you honestly didn't mind. Even though your thoughts were much more coherent there were still stumbling in that pleasant fog filling your mind. You moved your hands to cover his because you needed to hold onto something, and it seemed like the most logical option to not let go of reality because everything felt like a perfect dream. His moves were hitting all the right spots, forcing the air out of your lungs, the warmth of his breath pleasantly hugged your neck, where he put his head, while your own was currently resting on his shoulder, your lips so close to each other, that one turn from either of you would be enough for a kiss.

His movements were sloppy and irregular… You weren't able to predict when his hips snap again and the tip of his cock would grind against your g-spot, so you couldn't prepare for it and all you could do was react to whatever he was doing to you. This time both of you were much quieter... No loud moans, no screams, no desperate cries, it was much more... intimate - with barely audible whimpers, deep breaths, and unspoken pleads and promises.

It took him a while to widen his movements so more of him was leaving your body, which made you hook your feet behind his calf in involuntary reaction because you honestly didn't know what you wanted or needed to do. You just didn't want this moment to stop...

You finally turned your head and caught his lips in a messy kiss, while his movements quickened, and his fingers put more pressure on both your abdomen and the artery in your neck, slowly restricting the oxygen supply to your brain, making it even harder to think, but in the end... wasn't it exactly what you asked for...?

You weren't sure if he was able to manipulate your body to that degree or control his own so well, but he squeezed your throat harder and pushed on your lower abdomen at the same time he reached his peak, so the two of you came in the exact same time. As soon as you felt your walls spasming around him, he released the grip he had on your throat, allowing a fresh dose of oxygen to flood your brain, making your orgasm much stronger. You felt the muscles in your legs tense up, and your hips pushed back, taking his cock even deeper. Your back so hard, that he actually had to use his muscles to hold you in place...

And then you collapsed in his arms while he held you flush against his body, gently rubbing your abdomen with his fingers, like he was trying to ascertain if he was able to already get you pregnant. Logically he knew it wasn't possible to tell that fast, but it didn't stop him from imagining a new life already growing inside you, the mere thought of it making his cock twitch.

When you finally came down from cloud nine, you reached back and put your hand on his neck and pulled him into a sloppy kiss, trying to turn around, but he didn't let you, because he didn't want to risk even a drop of his cum leaking out of you.

- You did so well... - he whispered straight into your ear. - Your pussy took me so perfectly that nothing in the world could compare, and I'm never letting you go... From now on - you're mine. Do you understand? - the growl in his voice should scare you because even so fucked out you could tell that there was something dangerous behind it, but somehow... His claim on you made you feel... safe. So instead, you smiled and nodded in reply, and he started to leave deep red hickeys anywhere his mouth could reach in that position.

Your whole life had just changed...

And you couldn't help but love it. 

A/N 2: Please don’t feel obligated/pressured to reblog, because I write mostly for myself. A comment would be appreciated though :)

Love,

G.

[coquetteriddle]

a little tomarry fighting snippet/warmup :)

"Oh please," Harry begins dismissively, "What would you know about friendship or kindness? All you do is lie and manipulate people."

Tom steps forward, an angry snarl on his face, his emotions far too unclouded. "Maybe, Potter, people are loyal to me because they actually like me, something you wouldn't be accustomed to."

And Harry can't help it. He laughs, and it's mean and cruel and childish and every bit of anger he's felt towards Tom Riddle since the moment he's gotten here. 

"You think people like you, Riddle?! You think anybody in this school actually fucking likes you?!"

The anger and bitterness in Harry are building up to such a boiling point that it releases in an awful, spiteful, flood. His manic grin is directly in Riddle's face, but nothing is funny. 

"The people who follow you are only there because you lied to them! You promised them fame and power and immortality and where do you think they'll go when you inevitably fail?! Because that's not loyalty, Riddle!"

Their argument has escalated so loudly that the entire hallway has stopped, instead staring at both of them, but Harry is too incensed to stop now.

"You know nothing about loyalty or friendship or anything worthwhile because you're such an egotistical maniac, that you can't even fathom the idea that people don't fucking care about you as much as you think they do!"

Over the whispers and mutters of the crowd, Harry can only hear his and Riddle's own heavy breathing. The hall seems blurry around them. There's only his furious screaming truth, and Riddle's look of angry shock. 

But underneath Riddle's expression is something Harry is all too familiar with. A slight look of fear and worry, some insecurity that's lived inside of him since he stepped into Hogwarts. Even without legilimency, Harry knows exactly what Riddle is thinking.

What if he's right?

[logophilist1982]

Cozy dark academia 🖤

[sunsetsandsunshine]

Hey!! For your next fic could you do Leo and Mikey angst

It came be 2012, MM or rise

~ 𝚈𝚘𝚞’𝚛𝚎 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚋𝚎𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚢𝚘𝚞 ~

💙🐢🧡 𝙵𝚒𝚌 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚋𝚢: @tmntalways 💙🐢🧡

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙷𝚒, 𝚃𝚞𝚛𝚝𝚕𝚎𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚍!!! 𝙸 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚘 𝚖𝚞𝚌𝚑 𝚋𝚛𝚘 ☹️💔…𝙸 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚋𝚊𝚍 𝙸 𝚠𝚊𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚊𝚋𝚕𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚘𝚗 𝚃𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚕𝚛 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝙸 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚋𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 💖💕💘💞🩷!!! 𝙰𝚕𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑, 𝙸 𝚍𝚘 𝚊𝚍𝚖𝚒𝚝 𝙸’𝚖 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚋𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝚒𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚠𝚘 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛’𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝 𝚒𝚗 𝚊 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢 😅👍🏾! 𝙸 𝚍𝚒𝚍 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝 𝚜𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚌𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚎𝚛’𝚜 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚒𝚎𝚍— 𝙸 𝚑𝚘𝚙𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝’𝚜 𝚊𝚕𝚛𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 🫠…˚*• ̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*＊·̩̩̥͙

𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: 𝙷𝚞𝚛𝚝/𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚝

𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜: 𝟹,𝟸𝟾𝟾

𝙻𝚎𝚎: 𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚢 🐢🧡

𝙻𝚎𝚛: 𝙻𝚎𝚘 🐢💙

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝙼𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚢’𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚎𝚗 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐…𝚞𝚗𝚏𝚘𝚌𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚍…𝚞𝚗𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚣𝚎𝚍, 𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎…𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊 𝚠𝚑𝚘𝚕𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚗𝚌𝚑 𝚘𝚏 𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 '𝚞𝚗'. 𝙰𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚒𝚝 𝚊𝚕𝚕? 𝙷𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝚔𝚗𝚘𝚠 𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚐𝚘 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢…

𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚜: @shut-up-jo @someone1348 @saturnzskyzz

@savemeafruitjuice @rice-cake-teen10 @mistyandsnow

@skyloladoodles @itzsana-kiddingmenow @titters-and-tingles

(𝙰/𝙽: 𝚂𝚠𝚒𝚖𝚜 𝚒𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚜𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚜𝚎𝚊 𝚘𝚏 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝…𝚋𝚞𝚝 *𝙰𝙷𝙴𝙼* 𝚖𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚒𝚖𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢: 𝙳𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚋𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚐𝚞𝚢! 𝚃*𝚌𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙺𝚒𝚗𝚔/𝙽𝚂𝙵𝚆 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐𝚜 𝙳𝙽𝙸!!!)

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚂𝚎𝚕𝚏 𝚍𝚎𝚙𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚜, 𝚊𝚌𝚌𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚕 𝚜𝚎𝚕𝚏-𝚑𝚊𝚛𝚖 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚖𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚑𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜, 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐. 𝙿𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝙿𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝙿𝙻𝙴𝙰𝚂𝙴 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚛𝚒𝚜𝚔!!!

𝚁𝙴𝙼𝙸𝙽𝙳𝙴𝚁: 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝙰𝙳𝙷𝙳 𝚊𝚗𝚍/𝚘𝚛 𝚊 𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚕 𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝚝𝚘 𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚌!!! 𝚃𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚛𝚢 𝚒𝚜 𝚋𝚊𝚜𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚗 𝚖𝚢 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚎𝚡𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚌𝚎𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚒𝚝 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚒𝚝 𝚒𝚜 𝚖𝚊𝚍𝚎 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢 ☺️💞💗💓💕

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙰𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝 𝚖𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚍 🕺🏾✨💞🎶˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙

Mikey couldn’t do anything right now. Like…anything.

Well…perhaps he was being a bit too dramatic. He was breathing. And he was fidgeting with his squishy cube. So saying he wasn’t doing 'anything' wasn’t entirely true.

Right now he just…couldn’t do anything…productive. 

For example, the box turtle tried making his favorite dishes and deserts! But that endeavor just ended up being a huge mess in the kitchen…and leaving the youngest turtle with a bunch of unappetizing food. 

Which he fed all to Raph by the way. 

Some would call that choice of action cruel but Mikey would just call it 'using his resources'. 

Besides, it’s not like the eldest minded at all. He said, and I quote: 'It has a nice…crunchy feeling to it. Did you put some of Don’s inventions in this?'

Which honestly got a couple of chuckles out of the smallest turtle teen of the bunch.

Then, Mikey tried skateboarding! But for once in all his 14 years of living…it was just utterly boring. 

And after all of that nonsense, Mikey then finally tried reading a comic…but he was too unfocused to even get to the second page…

But what was really new? Mikey could never focus on jackshit even if said jackshit hit him right in the shell. 

His brothers and sister would always have to remind him to stay focused or 'not do this' or 'not do that'.

For example, a couple days ago Donnie had to kindly remind the box turtle (well…as kindly as Donnie could be anyway…) to brush his teeth.

To. Brush. His. Fucking. Teeth. 

And honestly? Having to be reminded to do that was really embarrassing. And the orange banded teen knew his brother didn’t mean to humiliate him internally…but…yeah.

And it’s not like the softshell was wrong either! The youngest turtle just couldn’t freaking accept that he himself couldn’t do such a simple task in the morning. 

But literally every task he completely fails to do is just utterly simple ones!

Like cleaning his room or not forgetting things or even keeping track of time! 

…And the sad part about all of it was Mikey just honestly could not understand how his family haven’t gotten sick of his annoying tendencies…

And let’s be for real here…that was basically all of his tendencies. 

The box turtle groaned loudly in his room, slamming his whole body on his bed as he screamed into his pillow. 

There had to be something he could do instead of just wallowing in his own self pity…

And one of those options could not consist of bothering his family with his random bad mood. They had to put up with him 24/7…the least he could do was give them some space.

The youngest then glanced at his drawing notebook hopefully…

…One little sketch of something random wouldn’t hurt, right?

The amber eyed teen reached for his notebook, grabbing a pen from his drawer as he started to sketch his desk because why the absolute fuck not? Based on the objects he’s drawn in the past…sketching a simple desk should and will be easy, right? Right. 

That was until the orange banded teen’s pencil tip broke. But it was fine! He could just re-sharpen it, right? Right.

That was until the youngest realized he had absolutely no clue where his sharpener was due to the fact his room looked like a pig stie. And there was no way he was looking for it in…that whole situation. 

…The situation he created in the first place. 

Michelangelo layed on his bed with his face staring at the ceiling in frustration, he ran his fingernails along his arms, not making really deep cuts with them but going deep enough for it to hurt a bit.

Like a reasonable turtle would, Mikey should probably get one of his stress toys…or better yet, another pencil!

But let’s be for real here…he’d most likely find a way to fuck that up too.

Suddenly, there was a small, quiet knock on Mikey’s door but…in all honesty? He just wanted to crawl into his shell and sob for the next hour and a half. Letting out a niiiiice and quick 'come in' would take way too much energy. 

The box turtle let out a soft grunt, letting whoever was on the other side know it was a-okay to come in.

Abruptly, Leo peeked in the room, a wide smile plastered on his face as he closed the door, “Damn, Mikester…it looks like every single natural disaster went through your room…”

“I’m cleaning it.” The youngest grumbled to his brother.

“Really? You sure about that, little bro? Because if my memory serves me correct (which it in-fact does), you said that last week. And the week before that…and the week before—“

“I SAID I’M FUCKING CLEANING IT!!!” The orange banded turtle snapped, sitting up on the bed to glare at his immediate older brother before slowly realizing what he just did. 

The youngest’s heart dropped as he looked away from his brother. The orange banded mutant’s eyed widened as silent and small tears ran down his face. He covered his mouth as his other hand turned to a fist, his nails unforgivingly digging into his palm.

“I-I’m sorry…I’m s-sorry…I-I’m so s-sorry…!” He started, rocking himself back and forth before stopping as he was met with a warm embrace. Leonardo hugged him gently but firmly, rubbing the other’s shell in a comforting hold. “Woah woah…! Bud, you have nothing to apologize for…” The slightly older teen said as he rested his chin on the top of his baby brother’s head.

“L-Like h-hell I don’t. I-I just screamed a-at y-you for no reason…” Michelangelo wobbly said. “You were just trying to lighten the mood but I just had to make everything harder like I-I always do…!” 

“Mikey—”

“I-I always do this. I-I’m so f-fucking s-sorry Leo…”

“Mikester…I-I appreciate the apology but it seriously isn’t necessary—”

“You’re probably so sick of me and so angry at me. I-I’m sorry I just—”

“Mikey!” Leo gently yelled to get the other’s attention, squeezing the smaller turtle’s hands as he stared straight at him with pleading eyes. “Do I look mad?”

“…N-No.”

“Do I sound mad?”

“…No.” 

The second youngest sadly smiled, “So what are you apologizing for, hm?”

“…I-I…dunno…I-I just…I just felt I needed to apologize…” The box turtle mumbled as he looked at his hands. The blue banded turtle sighed, slowly getting out of the hug so him and his little brother faced each other. The slider rubbed the other turtle’s palm with his thumb comfortingly, “…Do you wanna talk about it, baby bro?”

The leader in blue was just met with silence…which he could honestly work with.

“Angelo…you know you can tell me…anything, right? Like…anything. Although, it doesn’t have to be me you talk to about it. It could be Raph or Don or April or even Dad or Draxum! I just…don’t want you sitting here and bottling up the way you feel…” 

Silence. Leo continued.

“You’re always there when we need you, Angel. Whether it’s to vent or to just ramble about shit, you’re just…always there. We don’t tell you this enough but we appreciate you always being someone we can lean on…”

Silence. Leo continued.

“But…you do know you can lean on us too, right? Comfort goes both ways and I can see you’re hurting, buddy. So please…if you need to talk to me…I’m right here.”

Mikey sniffled, squeezing Leo’s hand, “I-I d-dunno. Today is just…weird. This whole week has just been…weird.” Leo nodded, giving his brother his full undivided attention, “How so?”

“I just…haven’t been able to do anything…” The smaller teen admitted.

“What do you mean?” The taller teen inquired. 

“I haven’t been able to do…anything. Like, I can’t draw, cook or even skateboard! Me!!! Not being able to skateboard— isn’t that crazy?!” The amber eyed turtle laughed bitterly.

“And it’s not like I can’t do it. I’m perfectly freaking capable of doing it in the right amount of time I want but my brain just. won’t. let. me!” 

“I keep procrastinating and not doing the stuff I want to do and I have no idea why! I’m tired of just putting things off and being this way! I want to do things without having to ask you guys for help or to remind me or to relate it with a hyperfixation that I have!” Mikey hiccuped, a new wave of tears rolling down his face as his hands shook. 

The amber eyed teen sniffled, refusing to look at his immediate older brother at all right now because…holy shit he just overshared a whole lot…

Like…a whoooooooooole freaking lot.

“…That sounds like you.” Leonardo shrugged. 

In a state of just shock and confusion, the box turtle pulled his hands away from his brother, looking up at him as lime green eyes met amber ones. “I…what…?” Michelangelo murmured.

“I said that sounds like you.” Leo said again casually as Mikey glared at him, “Yeah. I heard what you said but that isn’t helpful.”

“I’m just being honest with you, Mikester.” Leo said, “Just…let me explain, okay?”

“…You have five minutes before I kick you out of my room.” 

“Deal.” The lime green eyed mutant commented, “You can’t draw, cook or skateboard right now. You’re procrastinating and not doing the stuff you want to do in the time you planned…is that correct?” 

Michelangelo sent deathly daggers to his brother— which the other wasn’t phased by at all. This time was probably the best time to crawl in his own shell and just sob his eyes out because what kind of dumbass question was his dumbass brother asking him?!

“…Yes.” The orange banded teen mumbled. 

“And…why are those bad things?” 

“WHY?!” The box turtle huffed out a laugh of annoyance, “Pfft— you’re asking me why. Maybe it’s because it’s annoying?! Maybe because it’s frustrating to deal with and I don’t want to burden you guys with my problems?! Maybe because I don’t want to fucking feel or be this way?!” The youngest shouted, breathing heavily as he finished his rant. 

The box turtle looked away again, silently cursing at himself for getting annoyed so easily. “Mikey.” Leo started again, “Your being too hard on yourself, okay? No one is expecting you to be at your 100% all the time.” 

“What you just described to me; you being able to not focus or you getting bored easily or procrastinating with stuff is…literally you. You’re just being you.” The slider explained as he held his baby brother’s hand in his. “And I get it. It’s hard to deal with it sometimes and it’s going to be hella frustrating. Like…super borderline frustrating. But you can’t shun them away and just…try to ignore them, bubs…”

“Let’s take moi for example. I’m impulsive, I talk loud and lose things daily. Those three things don’t make up my whole personality but it would be super weird and off-putting if I just…didn’t do or have those three things, right?” 

The youngest giggled wetly, “Yeah…it would. A-And by the way, I’m still waiting for you to find that glittery pen kit I gave you…”

Leonardo groaned loudly and dramatically, causing the other teen to giggle louder, “I’m looking for it, okay?! It’s in my room…somewhere.” The taller mutant mused, “But anyways…back to you. You procrastinate, you relate things to your hyperfixations and you can’t do some of your favorite tasks from time to time…those are some traits that make up you, is it not?” 

Mikey sniffled, rolling his eyes playfully due to the fact he knew damn well where this was going, “Yeah…” 

Leo smiled softly, seeing his younger brother was starting to get his point, “I wouldn’t change a single thing about you, okay? I know sometimes it’s hard to deal with the things you described but you have us for that.” He said as his smile turned to a grin. 

“You can come to me— to us— anytime. We love you for who you are…your flaws and all and we just…I-I need you to know that we love you so so much—!” The slider was cut off by a sudden abrupt embrace from the box turtle. The orange banded teen sobbed into the other’s shoulder, clutching the taller turtle like a lifeline. 

“T-Thank you…” The box turtle wobbly said through tears.  

“Of course, Angel.” Leo said as he hugged his baby brother back, “I love you.” He said as he kissed the other teen on the head.

“I-I l-love you too…”

.

.

.

.

.

.

“Tell your thoughts to shut up.” Leo said as he lightly poked Mikey in the forehead numerous times. The two were sitting on the box turtle’s bed just simply…relaxing and enjoying each other’s company. Michelangelo was sitting in between his older brother’s legs as he had his shell to his brother’s plastron.

Leonardo hugged his brother protectively, resting his chin on the top of the box turtle’s head. “What do you mean?” The youngest giggled out. “I can hear your thoughts, man. You’re not bothering me or disturbing me in any way, shape or form, alright…?” 

The amber eyed turtle nodded, squeezing Leo’s hand, “Y-Yeah…I know...” 

“I’m choosing to be here because I love you. I don’t feel obligated to be here, okay? You’re not annoying and you, neither your problems are a burden…okay?” The slider said reassuringly, “It’s okay to ask us for help…and we don’t mind reminding you to do things…okay?” 

“You’ve said ‘okay’ like, fifty times…”

“Mikey.” 

“Mhm…yeah yeah…I gotcha…”

The elder looked at his brother skeptically, resting his chin on his little brother’s shoulder so they made solid eye contact, “I want you to say it.” 

“…Say what exactly?”

“I want you to say that you are an amazing person and you don’t need to change a single thing about yourself.” 

“You are an amazing person and you don’t need to change a single thing about yourself.” Michelangelo grinned smugly. Leonardo glared at the youngest’s interpretation to his statement, “Mikey, you know exactly what I meant.” 

“I said what you wanted me to say…so…” The amber eyed teen trailed off.

“Michelangelo.” The slider said in a warning tone as he poked the other’s side. The box turtle squeaked at the unexpected touch, trying to stop his immediate older brother from doing it again but his brother had a strong but gentle grip on him…

Then the smallest turtle came to recognition that he was stuck in a potential tickle hug with no way out…

…How wonderful. 

“L-Leeheeo…doohoo nahat.” The orange banded mutant warned through his giggles, said warning not seeming too threatening due to the fact he was already laughing up a storm. The leader in blue raised a brow, poking the other’s side repeatedly, “I just want you to repeat what I said…in the first person.” The taller teen specified.

The smaller turtle squirmed in the hug, small frantic giggles pouring out of his mouth. This…really wasn’t how he was expecting his day to go. Just about an hour ago, he was wallowing in sadness about the stuff he hated about himself, to talking about it with his brother, to now getting tickled by his brother.

…So could he really complain about how things turned out?

…Yes. Yes, he absolutely could.  

“Leeheeon! Plehease dohon’t!” The youngest squealed as one of his brother’s hands hovered over his stomach. Mikey held onto the other’s wrists, trying to stop his elder brother from tickling him but his small attempts ending up to be all for nothing as Leo effortlessly tickled his stomach with one hand.

“LEEHEEHAHAHA!!” Michelangelo laughed wholeheartedly, swatting at his brother’s arms. The lime green eyed turtle cooed at the gesture, now using both of his hands to attack the youngest’s plastron, “D'aww…look at you giggling your head off~! You’re my adorable little bundle of amazingness, aren’t you~?”

The smaller teen shook his head, a faint blush appearing on his face, “STAHA— squeal N-NAHAHA!”

“What~? What was that?” The blue banded mutant asked as he kneaded the box turtle’s hips. “GYAHAH— squeal SHIHIHIT! COHOME OHAHAN!!!” The amber eyed turtle cried frantically as he kicked his legs on the mattress slightly. 

The youngest squealed with laughter, curling in on himself as he slumped in his big brother’s hold. Leonardo just sighed fondly at the action, wrapping the other in another hug as he raspberried his neck. “LEEHEEHEE!! PLAHAH— squeak NAHAHAT THEHERE squeak PLEHEASE PLEHEASE— squeak!!!”

“Not there~?” The elder lightly mocked, “What about…here~?” He mused as he used his hands to scribble all over the younger turtle’s ribs. Mikey cackled, shaking his head to try and at least subside the tickly feelings.

“NAHAHA— squeal AHAHAHA!! NAHAHAT THEHEHERE EHE— squeal EHEHEITHER!!! LEEHEEO!!” The orange banded turtle squeaked as Leo stopped for a second, “I’ve tried sooooo many spots, buddy! How many times are you gonna say not there, hm?”

Mikey genuinely squawked louder than a firefighter siren, squirming so much it looked like he was actually being electrocuted. “PLEHEHAHA LEEHEEO NAHAHAT THEHEHE RIHIHIBS!!!” He cackled. 

“Not the riiiibs~? Why~? Is it because it’s your tickle spot~? Your tickletickletickle spot~? Because you’re ticklish~?” Leonardo asked as he lightly nibbled the crook of Mikey’s neck. 

Michelangelo screamed in laughter, scrunching up his shoulders as he dug his heels on the bed, a couple of his plushies sadly falling on the floor (R.I.P. man…) “EEEHEEHEEP!!! S-STAHAP BEEHEEING MEEHEAN!” Mikey said as he thrashed on the bed. 

The slider said nothing, his hands sneaking up to the box turtle’s underarms. “AAAAHAHAHA! OHO NOHOHO— squeak SHIT! SHIHIHAHAT!”

Happy tears slowly begin to appear in the smallest teen’s eyes, he weakly hit Leo’s arms as a last attempt to be set free, “LEHEHEMME squeal GOHOHOHO!” 

“Ohonly if you sahay it, bubs.” 

“IHIHI— SQUEAK!! LEEHEEHEEON!!!” 

“Yeeeees, baby brother~?” The elder dragged out as he kneaded the other’s hips.

“IHI’LL SAHAY IHIHAT I-IHIHI’LL SAHAHAY IHIT!!” The amber eyed teen squealed. 

“And you promise not to be a sassy little shit about it~?” The older teen asked.

“SQUEAK YEHAHAHA— SQUEAK YEHES YEHES I-I PROHOHOMISE!” 

Leo stopped tickling his little brother, hugging him protectively as the youngest caught his breath slowly but surely. “W-Wahait…whahat squeak wahas ihihat yohou eeheeven wahanted me squeak to sahay again?” 

The taller turtle pondered for a bit, thinking to himself before loudly groaning, “That’s…a good damn question. I don’t really remember exactly what I wanted you to say in the first place…” The lime green eyed turtle sighed, “Forgetfulness at its finest...” 

The red eared slider adjusted himself, making sure the other was comfortable before starting to speak again, “Well…based on what we talked about…could you maybe just…y'know…” Leo gestured with his hands before groaning, “Do you get what I’m trying to say, man?” 

“…I thihink I have ahan idea…” Mikey giggled as he fiddled with his hands, “I shouldn’t beat myself up so much because of some of my traits or quirks. And I’m allowed to feel frustrated and/or upset because things don’t go my way because of them. But…I shouldn’t allow those things to put me down...”

Michelangelo smiled softly, rubbing his palm with his thumb, “They don’t define me as a person but they make me a person. I don’t need to be at my best 100% and I’m allowed to have bad days. And if things get too overwhelming or difficult I can just go to you guys.” 

Mikey hugged himself, letting out a small laugh as his happy tears welled up in his eyes, “I’m just…being me. And there’s nothing wrong with that.” Leonardo teared up at his brother’s words, hugging him tighter than he ever had before and burying his face at the back of the youngest’s head.

“Never forget that, Miguelito…never forget that.” 

·̩̩̥͙＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚𝙵𝙸𝙽˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊·̩̩̥͙ 

(𝙿.𝚂.: 𝙸𝚏 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚗𝚓𝚘𝚢𝚎𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚜 𝚏𝚒𝚌, 𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐!!!)

[thedeepsoctopus]

Hobie Hc's!!

warnings: none really just stuff about kissing :) (I'm not projecting you are) somethings may be misspelled and/or grammatically incorrect if so please let me know so I can fix it!

He likes to paint his nails and will paint yours if you ask nicely.

Hobie forces you to help during wash day, you don’t really have a choice anymore.

He definitely lives with you no matter if you're from his universe or you’re a fellow spider, he will find a way.

He definitely pierces himself but if you ask him to pierce you, he will refuse because he's too afraid to hurt you :(

Hobie babysits mayday for peter b. When he and Mj wanna have alone time

This man can't cook for the life of him. I feel like he would try to cook reader a romantic dinner but damn near burns down the kitchen and has to order takeout (he was really disappointed, but he made it up to you in cuddles and neck kisses

THIS MAN IS THE SLOPPIEST KISSER EVER. he doesn't take criticism.

He's not really a big fan of pda, with the exception of hugs and handholding, 

but if he feels someone is flirting with you and you don't realize or if someone was making you uncomfortable, he’ll come up from behind and give you a few kisses on the neck and ask if that person is bothering you.

When you guys are alone all he wants is to be all over you

When you guys cuddle, he prefers to be the little spoon. 

A/n: I hope you guys enjoy the food. I'm gonna try and more active with writing :3

[josephseedismyfather]

Afflicted: Harley & Jacob

Chapter 2: Ruins

Chapter 2 is finally ready.

Many, MANY thanks to my friend @redreart for once again creating the most beautiful chapter art a girl could dream of! Your support and your talent are literal life savers. I love you!

And to @hotmessteaparty, thank you SO MUCH for beta reading, you always manage to blow me away with the amount of work you do. Thank you for the endless hours spent on helping me hash out the things in my brain. I love you 💖💖💖 and am incredibly grateful.

I hope you guys enjoy the chapter! I have plenty more to go, these fics will be loooong, and chapter 3 is already fleshed out.

[chapel-of-rizztual]

hi please feel free to ignore this but ive been having a rough time and would adore some regressor phantom hurt/comfort. maybe little guy bends too far on stage and hurts himself or something, idk just so long as their comfort ❤️

He was so desperate to impress Dew that when Dew has pointed the floor, expecting him to drop to his knees before him, he had done, no questions asked. The problem was it was outdoor venue. And it was raining. Just as he was bending backwards to get his head to hit the floor behind him, his knee slipped, causing his back to jolt. 

 Immediately he felt pain spark all the way up his spine and down to the bottom of his back. He let out a whine, hoping Dew didn’t hear him, and he gently bent himself back up into a upright position. More pain bloomed under his skin as he did, he felt it wrap around his spine and constrict. 

He played as usual, not wanting anyone to guess something was wrong. The pain was bad, each step he took make it worse. By the end of the show he’s limping, his head is spinning with the fuzzy feeling he gets when he feels small. During final bows he’s next to Rain, and he squeezes the water ghouls hand tightly, feeling like he’ll topple over if he doesn’t. Rain gives him a look, even under his mask Phantom can feel it, it’s like Rain knows. 

He lets Rain pull him off stage, whimpering as soon as they’re hidden backstage, feeling tears fall down his cheek behind his mask. 

“H-hurts, Rainy. Hurts.”

Rain pulls him into his dressing room, shutting the door behind him. 

“I know, baby. I saw what happened.” 

He undoes Phantom’s helmet, pulling off his head, cooing as he does. 

“Oh, there’s no need to tears, babyboy.”

Phantom sniffles, a new batch of tears flowing down his cheeks. 

“Hurts so badly, Rainy. I don’t-I can’t-“ 

He’s cut off by a sob wracking thought him. 

“Please help me. Make the hurt stop.” His bottom lip wobbles. 

Rain brushes the tears on his cheeks away with his thumb, rubbing gentle circles on his cheek. 

“I’ve got you, baby. Gunna look after you, make you feel better.” 

Rain very carefully peels Phantom’s shirt off. Phantom whimpers the whole time, his eyes screwing shut as he sobs out again. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, darling. But we have to get it off to help you.” 

Phantom whimpers again, his eyes still screwed shut, shaking his head. 

Rain coos at him again, finally pulling shirt off him, 

“Being so good for me, baby. So brave for me.” 

Phantom perks up a little at the praise, letting out a little chirp at the praise. 

Before any of them can say anything, the dressing room door opens and Dew walks in. He’s changed from his stage uniform, wearing black sweatpants and no shirt, his hair down from its braid, the black stage makeup still smudged around his eyes and mouth. 

“How bad is it? I saw his leg slip, it can’t be good, right?” 

“I don’t think it’s that bad.” Rain rubs at Phantom’s belly in a confronting way. “I think he’s just pulled a muscle, I don’t think there’s any bruising or swelling.” 

Dew checks over Phantom’s back, humming in agreement with Rain. 

“No swelling or bruising.” He presses carefully at a couple of different spots on Phantom’s back, making him hiss out at one particular spot at the bottom of his spine. “Hurts there, little one?” 

Phantom nods, pouting at Dew with wet eyes. 

“Hurts, Dewy.” 

Dew pouts back at him. 

“I bet, sweetheart.” He ruffles Phantom’s hair. “Do you want me and Rainy to make it better?” Phantom nods, still pouting, but the tears have slowed. Dew presses a little kiss to the bottom of his back. “Come lie down on the sofa with us, baby.”  Rain manoeuvres Phantom so he's led in between Himself and Dew, his back to Dew. Phantom buries his face in Rains neck, still whimpering slightly. Phantom let’s out a small gasp feeling Dew get increasingly more warm behind him, making both ghouls giggle at him. “You like that, little one?” Dew noses at his shoulders, his hand wiggling between Phantom and Rains belly’s to rub at Phantom's. 

Phantom gives a little wiggle and a chirp. 

“Feels nice. Warm.” 

Rain presses a kiss to the top of his head, intwining his hand with Dew’s other hand, taking one of Phantom's in his other. 

“Dewy making you feel better?” 

Phantom hums, snuggling him deeper into both of them. 

“We’ve got some time before we have to be on the bus, why don’t have a nap, baby? We’ll wake you up when it’s time to go.” Dew presses a kiss to the back of his head. 

Phantom fidgets a little, letting out another little whine. 

“Tail?” 

Rain huff a laugh, bringing the spade of his tail up to Phantom’s lips. Phantom parts his lips, accepting Rain’s in his mouth, sucking gently at the spade. 

Dew let’s out a little giggle at him. 

“That better?”

Phantom nods, his eyes finally slipping closed. 

Somehow the other two end up falling asleep, the rhythmic breathing of Phantom slowly pulling them onto a peaceful sleep. 

That’s how Copia finds them, tangled up on the dressing sofa, fast asleep. They’d been waiting on the bus for them for an hour before he set off looking for them, hoping and praying that they hadn’t left the venue on their own. 

He runs a hand through Phantom’s hair, watching as the small ghoul twitches in his sleep, his eyes slowly fluttering open. 

“Hi there, little one.” Phantom blinks bleary eyed at him, sucking on the tail that’s still in his mouth. 

Copia runs a finger down his cheek.

“What’ve you got there?” 

Phantom's eyes flicker to Rain. 

“Oh, you’ve got Rainy’s tail?” 

Phantom gives a small squeak and nod, sucking a little harder on the tail. Copia smiles sweetly down at him. 

“Yeah? That’s nice of him, hmm?” 

Phantom nods again, feeling a little more awake now. 

“Do you think you three could continue your cuddle pile on the bus? We’ve been looking for you all.” 

He tickles under Phantom's chin, making the small ghoul squeal and squirm. 

The other two wake up at the noise and motion and grin sheepishly up at Copia, hoping the man won’t be too mad at them for making them a little behind schedule. He’s not, he would never be, especially the sight of them all cuddled up is so cute. 

On the bus, Phantom forgets all about his back, especially when he’s pulled into the middle of a cuddle pile including everyone. He happily laps up all the attention and cuddles, a goofy smile of his face and a loud purr rumbling though his chest. 

[justlightlysedated]

Another kiss!!!

35

- Edwin/cat king again lmao (I love mess)

35…to gain something

"I can think of one person who would have the information that you need, but you're not going to like it."

Both Edwin and Charles turn to Crystal curiously, to see her pointing at Charles, even though usually her plans are things that Edwin won't like.

He turns to look at Charles, who turns to look at him at the same time. They both shrug and turn back to Crystal.

Edwin raises an eyebrow in question, and Charles tilts his head to one side.

Crystal makes a face at them both, "Well, there is one person who is a couple hundred years old, who may know what kind of shit this witch is involved with since he was able to help with Esther."

"Ah," Edwin says, realizing who she meant at the same time that Charles scoffs.

"You're really not saying that we ask the Cat King for help, are you?" he says, and then turns to Edwin, who hasn't said anything, because Crystal isn't wrong.

They need information, and the Cat King would be their best bet.

"You are not seriously considering this after he trapped you in his 'kingdom' and tried to-"

"Charles," Edwin says, turning to face him. "While I understand where you are coming from, I've already told you that we ended things on good terms, and I'm not upset about what he did anymore."

He lifts an eyebrow pointedly, asking why Charles is still so upset about it.

Charles grumbles under his breath, but doesn't exactly say anything, so Edwin turns back to Crystal, who is looking at Charles with a pointed expression that she turns on Edwin, who just raises an eyebrow in response.

"Well, it seems like we know what to do next," he says, and tugs against the sleeves of his shirt, clearing his throat. "Maybe I should-"

"No," both Charles and Crystal say at the same time.

Edwin raises both of his eyebrows at them both.

"We're on a time crunch, god only knows what he'd ask you for if you're on your own," Crystal says, crossing her arms and smirking.

At the same time Charles steps closer and says, "There's no way you're going to meet him on your own after what happened last time."

Edwin's eyes dart all over Charles' face, and he softens at the obvious worry marring his features.

"Fine," Edwin says. "But this time, actually let me do all the talking."

Both Crystal and Charles turn and look at each other momentarily, before turning back to Edwin. Edwin sighs at the look on both of their faces, but ignores them both to walk over to the mirror.

Might as well get this over with.

Edwin presses his hand to the mirror and barely has to concentrate before he's sure he's got the right destination.

It's not like this will be the first time that he's used this mirror to travel back to Port Townsend.

Charles grabs on to Edwin's hand as he goes to walk through, and Edwin doesn't really question the move, just tightens his hold on Charles' hand as Charles grabs on to Crystal's hand, who snorts like she finds this whole thing ridiculous. Edwin ignores them both as he walks through.

They walk out right inside of the warehouse, cats yowling and cursing out of their way.

Edwin looks to Charles and Crystal to make sure that they are both out before he lets go of Charles' hand. Charles looks around, frowning, probably because there wasn't a mirror leaning against the wall the last time they'd been here.

He gives Edwin a look that Edwin ignores as he makes his way through the cats and towards the throne, still ostentatiously on top of a pile of crates and towering over the rest of the room. Edwin walks right up to the crates that serve as steps up to the throne, and waits for the cat licking it's paw right on the bottom step to nod its head before he walks up two steps and looks at Thomas, inclining his head a little, which is as close to bowing as he's willing to get.

Thomas grins, wide and pleased. He's lounging on his throne sideways, one leg hooked on the arm, and seems to have not put on a shirt, which Edwin knows is only for his benefit. He tries not to look as flustered as he feels.

"Seeing as you brought the old ball and chain and his side piece, I'm assuming this is for business not pleasure?"

"Quite right," Edwin replies, ignoring Charles and Crystal sputtering in protest behind him. "We're searching for any information that you can give us on how to break a spell a witch has on a fire breathing entity."

"Ah," he says, and then gets to his feet in one swift movement.

Edwin's eyes drop down his chest, and he looks away hurriedly.

"Well then, I certainly do have a little book around here somewhere that should be very helpful, but it'll cost ya."

He leans in meaningfully and raises his eyebrows pointedly, eyes darting down to Edwin's lips.

He looks both mischievous and desperate, and Edwin straightens up at the implication.

Charles says something, but Edwin isn't paying attention.

"Fine," Edwin replies. "I'll do one thing to make you happy, and you give me the book. No binding spells, and certainly no talk of punishments."

Both Charles and Crystal are suspiciously silent behind him, and he would love to turn and check on them, but Thomas takes another step closer, smiling too wide and pleased, like the cat that caught the canary.

"Should we take this somewhere private?" he asks, lifting his eyebrows.

"No," Edwin says, and both Charles and Crystal echo him. He's not planning on doing anything too salacious. And taking a trip to the Cat King's lair is not in the cards, given the time crunch they are under. "Here is fine."

Before anyone can say or do anything else, Edwin takes the last step up which leads him right into Thomas' personal space, which takes him aback.

Edwin smiles, and fists the open collar of his coat and pulls him in.

Edwin doesn't have any experience in kissing, but after Monty, he'd done the research. Niko had helped him, and while everything you read didn't translate well enough into practical application, he was sure that his inexperience won't actually matter.

He's sure that that is part of the appeal for Thomas, but he does like having the upperhand every now and again.

So Edwin kisses him, with his limited experience and vast knowledge, lips pressed together chastely, once, twice, three times, before dragging his tongue across his mouth, which he hadn't expected to have any reaction given the way that Thomas was practically pliant and unmoving in his hands, as though Edwin shocked him into stillness.

But Thomas moves then, placing his hands at the back of Edwin's head as he tilts his head and opens his mouth to Edwin's. And this time when Edwin licks into his mouth the kiss changes, and he makes a low sound, understanding now why tongues are so involved in the graphic novels that Niko insists he read.

Edwin isn't sure how long they kiss, because he doesn't need to breathe, but it's enough for him to see exactly what Charles meant by a kiss not being felt on the lips but in the head.

He pulls away once he's aware that a lot of time has passed, and Thomas looks dazed, eyes lidded, cheeks flushed, lips parted.

Edwin curbs the instinct to push in and kiss him again, by pushing him away. Thomas stumbles a few steps before he drops to sit back on his throne.

Edwin swallows and resists the urge to tug against his clothes like they're too tight.

"Was that satisfactory?"

Thomas laughs, a bubbly thing that seems involuntarily, but he's grinning more happy and satisfied than before.

"For now, yeah," he answers, lazily and out of breath.

He waves a hand in the air, and a book materializes in Edwin's hands.

"Thank you," Edwin says, gratefully, turning the book in his hands.

"No, thank you," Thomas replies, almost purring.

Edwin turns around before he decides that the kiss wasn't enough and stops short one foot on the steps leading down.

Crystal and Charles are just staring at him in silence. Crystal with a wide and delighted grin, while Charles frowned, loudly.

"What?" Edwin asks, lifting one hand to his hair and then putting it back down.

Charles scoffs, and turns around, stalking back towards the mirror. Crystal follows after him, bouncing and sending Edwin a thumbs up as she goes.

Edwin looks back to Thomas to see if he understood what just happened any better than he did, but Thomas just grins lazily, and blows him a kiss.

Edwin turns around quickly and almost stumbles down the last two steps in his hurry to follow after his friends.

[the-fire-within0]

SKAÐI

"Wife of Njörðr, woman of cold. She the wanderer of woods; the huntress in the snow. The winter's moon calls to her, with the wolves that follow her. With her bow and arrow, she aims ahead on a stag with no place to roam."

[14dayswithyou]

Meowdy Saint! ^^ What sort of havoc does Teo get into? Like besides smashing taillights.... aka... what am I going to see when Im stalking checking up on him?

✦゜ANSWERED: He's quite literally tied up in your closet right now...... I fear he's not doing much!! /silly

"Teo, I don't think this is legal..."

"Aw, don't get your panties in a twist, doll." Ignoring your words, Teo easily hoists himself over the chainlink fence and throws a casual look in your direction. "You're the one who said it was getting stuffy in the nightclub. Didn't you want to cool down?"

You glance between Teo and the empty public pool on the other side of the fence. "...I did. But this wasn't what I had in mind."

"No, but it's what I had in mind." Rolling his eyes at your hesitancy towards being rebellious, Teo throws a leg back over the fence once more and jumps off. He lands in his previous spot in the dirt with a grunt and offers you a hand. "C'mere. I'll help you over."

It takes one very large, noticeable moment before your feet start to move. Hesitancy is still thick in the air — and even in the forefront of your mind — but you somehow find it hard to say no to Teo when he's giving you those soft eyes and trademark smirk.

"C'mon. It'll be fine."

"We'll get in trouble." You manage to breathe out before you feel a pair of muscular arms around your waist. There's no time for you to react as Teo wordlessly hoists you over the fence and sits you atop the large steel bar that holds everything in place — before hoisting himself over as well.

However, he doesn't seem to wait for you to join him as the taller male takes a few steps toward the pool to suss everything out. And with a satisfied nod, he finally turns back to face you once more.

"We'll get in trouble?" With a scoff, he crosses his arms over his broad chest — making a point to flex his muscles and cock out his hip. "By who? That broken diving board?"

With an eye roll, you push yourself from the fence and jump down. "I don't know, but the... authorities... or something!"

"Don't see anyone around. Just you and me here, doll."

"W-Well... What about the cameras?" Even with nothing but the moonlight to illuminate your surroundings, you can still make out the shape of something circular in the corner of the main building.

"Oh, yeah. Forgot about those." Teo drawls as he begins to tug off his shirt. "Then we should probably give that lucky security guard a show, huh."

"Are you serious?!" You purposefully look away once he starts to remove his belt buckle. Suddenly, the questionable stain on the concrete was far more interesting than your half-naked companion. "No way!"

The sounds of something metallic hitting the floor ring in your ears before more rustling follows... Until the obnoxious sounds of water splashing everywhere drown out Teo's laughter and the rapid beating of your heart.

"Aw, you feelin' shy?" Teo's teasing lilt can be heard from somewhere within the pool as you fight the urge to look in his direction. "Gonna cry? At least let me see it."

At that, you whip your head and send him a sharp glare. It's your turn now to cross your arms over your chest, but Teo doesn't seem to acknowledge it with the way he dives back into the water and sloshes around without a care in the world.

Admittedly, it did look like he was having fun — and the droplets from all his splashing did feel nice against your bare skin.

But when your silence finally kicks in and makes itself known towards the dark-haired man, he turns to you with a serious expression and ceases his antics.

"If you really don't wanna be here, then I'll drive you home." Teo mentions offhandedly, "But the water's nice 'n cool. You're honestly missing out, dollface."

Not that you'd ever admit it out loud, but Teo did look all sorts of breathtaking as he casually waded through the water. His wet, tanned skin was glistening underneath the moonlight, and it was one of the rare occasions where he'd slick his hair back to give you the perfect view of his grey eyes — which seemed to be staring back at you with an intimate gleam to them.

Choking out a stutter, you try your best to brush it off by perching yourself on the ledge and dipping your feet into the pool.

"People have probably peed in here, y'know." You kick a bit of water in your companion's direction, but he easily brushes it off and splashes you back with his hand. You don't miss the way Teo fully turns his towards you, nor how he seems to be slowly inching his way closer to your spot by the edge of the pool.

"We can do something more indecent in here if you're up for it."

"Teo!" Your voice raises a few octaves, though you don't show any other signs of protest. "Don't you have your own pool, anyway?"

"Aw, where's the fun in that? Don't you wanna experience a new kind of thrill every once in a while?"

"..."

You despised the fact that he was right. Perhaps one of the main reasons you often found yourself drawn to Teo was because of how much excitement he brought into your life. Sometimes, it was nice to break the cycle of monotony... And Teo just so happened to be one of the very few people who could do that for you.

With a resigned sigh, you glance back at Teo and move to take off your shirt.

"See? Knew there was a reason I kept you around." He gives you a genuine smile this time, but you were too preoccupied with discarding your clothing somewhere safe to notice it. "This is why you're more fun than the others."

Teo swims closer to your side now — close enough to rest against the ledge and cage your thighs with his muscular arms. And had you chosen to look down at him, you would've noticed the soft look in his eyes and the faint blush on his cheeks.

"...Thanks for indulging me all the time."