#people working with the public need to stick together!

[lexosaurus]

Hello!! I'm a new fan of Danny Phantom, and I've been blasting through fanfictions. Your "The Phantom Martian" is one of my favorites and I was wondering if you gave up on it orrrr am I just impatient or missing something. Thank you for your time byyyyyyyyyye

Hi, I've been getting asks/DMs/messages/etc, and I just want to clear up for those that missed that I recently started a new job and a week or so after received news that one of my family members very likely has cancer and will not be receiving chemo. So I both had to adjust to my new work schedule (which I love!) while also dealing with unfortunate family matters at the same time, and I'm often very emotionally/physically spent at the end of each day and haven't been in the headspace to write funny fic. Please be patient a little longer while I do my best to juggle this—thank you.

[dumbdomb]

if you've been blocked recently, it's bc i actually check my notes and have had so many blogs on my dni on my personal posts that i have been blocking anyone associated with those accounts. either you have your likes hidden for this reason or you don't pay attention to who you're interacting with and what content they're posting. check the source, ppl 🙄

[schizopositivity]

If you don't judge people for saying "sorry adhd brain" in public, then don't judge people for saying "sorry schizophrenia brain" in public

If you correct people when they misuse the term "ocd" then you need to correct people when they misuse the terms "psychotic", "delusional", "hallucinating" and "schizophrenic"

If you don't stare, laugh at or fear a stranger in public flapping their hands, then you need to do the same for a stranger in public talking to someone who isn't actually there.

If you give a trigger warning to sensitive topics then you need to give a trigger warning to unreality and false information as a prank.

If you want to normalize medication like antidepressants you also need to normalize medications like antipsychotics.

If you don't like people without your disorder joking about it online and report it as harassment, then you need to do the same for the tons of nonschizophrenics making "schizoposting" memes to make fun of us.

Just please include schizo-spec and psychotic acceptance into your mental illness/neurodiversity acceptance. We are part of your community whether you like it or not. We are constantly stigmatized, misrepresented and made fun of. We do what we can to help you, please return the favor.

Mental illness/neurodiversity acceptance is an ongoing action. We will get nowhere in the long run if we split the community into the "in" group and the "out" group. We could all accomplish so much if we worked together. But you need to include the "weird" people that don't fit into your aesthetic and don't fit the social norms.

Us psychotics and schizo-specs have been struggling for years and have been the only people fighting for ourselves while the people we plead to barely see us as human. If you are nonpsychotic and nonschizo-spec, you can help us more than you realize. Please include us and stick up for us the same way we have been including and sticking up for you.

[artbyblastweave]

A few years ago, there was a thread on r/asksciencefiction where someone was fishing for a superhero story with an inverted Omni-Man dynamic, or a setting where Homelander's initial presentation is played straight- a setting where the Superman figure actually is the paragon of morality he's initially presented as, but no other superhero is- a situation where you've got one really competent true-blue hero standing head-and-shoulders in power above what's otherwise a complete nest of vipers.

Someone in the thread floated My Hero Academia; while I haven't read it, my understanding is that that's not really an accurate read of what's going on with Stain's neurosis about All-Might being the only "real hero," that the point of that arc is that Stain's got an insane and unreasonable standard and that taking an endorsement deal, while bad, isn't actually grounds for execution. My own contribution to the thread was Gail Simone's Welcome to Tranquility, where a major part of the backstory involved the faux Justice-League's Superman analogue having a little accident because he's the only one who thought they were morally obligated to go public with the secret life-extending macguffin that the rest of the team is using to enforce comic-book time on themselves and their loved ones; while only a couple members of the team are directly in on it, the rest are conveniently incurious. And Jupiter's Legacy gets tantalizingly close to this- The Utopian, a well-meaning stick-in-the-mud, ultimately gets blindsided and couped by his scheming brother who creates a superhero junta staffed by a Kingdom-Come-style glut of third-gen superheroes, who are framed as fundamentally self-interested because only came onto the scene after most of the situations you legitimately need a superhero to handle have been neutralized. (The rub, of course, is that the comic is also highly critical of the Utopian's intellectually incurious self-righteously 'apolitical' approach to superheroism- if for no other reason than that it left him in a position to get blindsided by a coup!) While Jupiter's Legacy gets the closest, all three of these are only loosely orbiting around the spirit of the original idea, and there's something really interesting there- particularly if the Superman figure isn't hopelessly naive in the same way as Utopian. Because first of all, if you're Metaman or Amazingman or whatever brand-name alias the writer goes with, and you really earnestly mean it, and you put together a team of all the other most powerful heroes on earth in order to pool your resources, and then with dawning horror you gradually begin to realize that everyone in the room besides yourself is a fascist or a con artist or abuser or any other variant of a kid with a magnifying glass eyeing that anthill called Earth- What the hell is your next move?

Do you just call the whole thing off? Can you trust that they'll actually go home if you call the whole thing off? I mean you've put the idea in their heads, are you sure that they aren't going to, like, start the Crime Syndicate in your absence? Do you stick around to try and enact containment, see if getting all of these people on a team makes them easier to keep on a leash? But that's functionally going to make you their enabler pretty quickly, right? Overlooking "should you kill them-" can you kill them? You're stronger than any individual one of them- are you stronger than all of them? The first time one of them really crosses a line in a way you can't ignore- will that be a one-on-one fight? Are they the kind of people capable of putting two-and-two together and pre-emptively ganging up on you if you push back too hard? Do you just start trying to get them killed, or keep them at each other's throats so they can't coordinate anything really nasty? Can you squeeze any positive moral utility out of them, or is that just a way to justify not doing the hard work of taking them down? There've been works where the conceit is to question the default assumption that Superman in specific would be a good person, and there've been works where the conceit is to question the default assumption that superheroes in general would be good people. Something to be done, I think, with questioning the default assumption that everyone Superman becomes professionally close to would be good, and to explore how he'd handle it if they weren't.

[biteyoubiteme]

melon float

yeonjun x fem!reader

synopsis: a picnic in the park is always fun with your boyfriend

warnings: 🔞!!! semipublic/public sex, oral (f!rec), no protection, creampie, breeding kink if you squint kinda, Yeonjun calls reader baby once or twice, prob forgot some sorry

wc: 1.9k

an: feedback is appreciated!! this is apart of my float event! check out the other members fics [float m.list]

[m.list]

Yeonjun had been so excited this morning, for over a week he had been planning your next date, picking out every detail. He had gotten up early to get all your food ready, making sure to keep you out of the kitchen to keep the surprise up. “you should get ready I have this handled, maybe you could wear that pretty white dress you just got,” so you complied dressing up and after he was ready you hopped into the car asking him to reveal where you were going.

“to eat out,” was all he gave you to work with, hand on your thigh as he drove.

when you got to the park you knew he was taking you on a picnic. The past couple of days were too unbearable to be outside in the sun but the forecast had shown a few days of cooler mornings with partly cloudy skies. the two of you had been locked up in your apartment sticking to waiting until it was late to go out even when it still felt hot without the sun. you had complained about the heat and not being able to really enjoy the summertime. Now he's gone and found the perfect spot for a picnic, a little secluded patch of grass, the hanging trees giving peaks of the little stream they rest next to. you can hear the twittering birds, and the rambel of water, all of it the perfect soundtrack to summer.

everything had started innocently enough, Yeonjun set up the blanket for the two of you and unpacked his little basket of prepped foods. he had taken the time to cut all the fruit up into cute little shapes, some of them rough around the edges but his clumsiness only ever made the effort so thoughtful. he set up all the little things around to make them look put together to take a photo. “smile,” his little happy grin behind the camera making you blush. “look at how pretty you are,” he flipped his phone towards you to look at, “I'm going to make it my lockscreen,”

“Wait, you can see my underwear in this photo,” you laugh, zooming in on your panties to prove your point. your legs had been up, knees closed as you leaned back on your hands showing your cute outfit. you hadn't noticed how your dress had slipped down your thigh, low enough to show the lacy fabric.

“My favorite ones too,” he states, “they look so good on you, even better off,” the little grin he has is wicked enough to know exactly where his mind is going.

“you can wait until we get home to give me flirty looks like that,”

“I really can’t do that at all,” he looks around at the empty space we are in, “No one really comes around here anyways and we are blocked by all the trees…”

even just the idea of doing anything out in public was a little bit hot to you. Yeonjun was fully into pda, he loved to show you off, hand in the back pocket of your jeans, making out at the club like you'll never get the chance to kiss again, nay excuses to put his hands on you to let people know you were his and his alone. he wasn't shy when it came to people watching the two of you, if you let him he would stick his hand up your skirt in the back of a cab so this wasn't so different for you two. so he didn’t even have to ask for you to know what he wanted now.

“you don’t think anyone will catch us?” you ask but you don’t need to answer because even if there was a possibility of getting caught Yeonjun wouldn't admit it outright but he wouldn't let the two of you go far enough without caution. you stand up and trying not to lift your dress too much you hook your fingers into the waistband of your panties pulling them down. Yeonjun is fast to lean over so that he can help take them off fully, balling them up and tossing them over to the basket half-open behind him.

he slides his hands up the back of your thighs, sitting criss cross in front of you looking up like he found everything he's been missing. he's grinning as he cups your ass, pulling you closer to him, chin on your thigh. “I thought those were your favorite?” you brush his hair behind his ears.

“On the list of my favorite things, they come second to what's standing in front of me. no need to admire them when I could admire you,”

you roll your eyes but even if he was cheesy it always got you. He was rubbing up and down the back of your legs, fingers slipping to your inner thighs making you shiver. every drag of his fingers getting closer and closer to your center. “you know what?”

“hum?” you hummed the tips of his fingers only just grazing over your folds.

“I think I’m starving,” he pulls you back down to the blanket, your laugh cut off by his kiss. hands moving to your waist, body pressing you into the blanket. when he pulls away he keeps his mouth on you, lips down your jaw, down your neck. “and I just happened to bring my favorite meal,”

he lays himself down between your legs lifting the hem of your skirt peeking under to see how wet you've gotten for him. Since you’ve gotten together it was so easy to get wet from a few kisses, for him to look at you the right way and he would just know if he reached down to check he could slip in without any prep.

“You said earlier we were going to eat out, not this,” you’re sitting up on your elbows watching and Yeonjun is giving you a cocky smile, tongue running along the inside of his lip as he shrugs. “You must have misheard me, I was trying to say I wanted to eat you out,” pushing your dress up and bunching it at your hips he leans down blowing over your clit, your knees pulling in at the cool air.

“don’t tease me,” you whine but you don’t expect him to listen, he was always a tease, drawing out your pleasure like it was a test he knew he would pass with flying colors. but there was no time when someone could walk by secluded as the spot was or not Yeonjun didn’t need anyone else to see you falling apart on his tongue namely because he didn’t want to be interrupted. he licked up your wetness, circling your clit before giving precise controlled flicks of his tongue. your head rolls back and you bite your lip to keep quiet only it's harder than you thought when he starts to suck on your clit.

your knees try to pull together and he has to push them back apart, ravaging your cunt, swirling his tongue over and over. He had full control over your body pulling your orgasm from you slowly until you were combusting. hips sinking, hands fisting the blanket, your moans were not silent anymore as you fluttered around nothing, Yeonjun pulling away to let you calm down from your high. but you didn’t feel satiated, not when you felt so empty, it was almost painful. “please jjunie,” you whined sitting up.

“hum? Does my pretty girl need to be stuffed,” knowing exactly what you wanted. he was hard as he sat up, unbuttoning his jeans, “come here,”

you didn’t need to be told twice, crawling over to him before straddling his waist, sensitive clit rubbing over his bulge making the both of you moan. you didn’t even hold yourself back as you started to grind down on him, your arms wrapping around his neck and fingers tangling into his hair. He grabbed your waist trying to still you, “Hold on baby I won't last like that,” he pulled his cock free from his last layer of fabric. you were already clenching at the sight, watching as he gave two slow pumps, thumb running over the tip collecting his precum to spread around the veiny shaft.

you sat up on your knees lifting as he used one hand to guide himself in and the other to hold your dress up. your soft whine turned into a throaty moan as he sank into you, slow to inch as he stretched you open. when you were fully seated the both of you caught your breath, your dress falling from his hands before he pushed your hair away from your face. “you’re so pretty when you sit so well on my cock,” he could feel you pulse around him at his praise, gummy walls warm enough to make him weak. he pulls you in for a kiss on hand at the base of your neck, the other on your hip helping you rock forward on him.

finding a rhyme the both of you melt together, your drawn-out movements deepening your kiss. pressed so deep inside you, you swear you can feel him in your throat, every movement brushing him against your g-spot, knees weak from the feeling. tugging on your hair he leans your head back to expose more of your neck, kissing down the column of your throat and to your exposed cleavage he nips over your skin.

you can feel your second orgasm build aided by the way your clit is rubbing against him but you’re restless, needing more than every slow drag. “I want more,” you breathe trying to pick up the pace but failing to when you’re this close, “please I need more,”

he doesn't even pull out as he flips the two of you, pushing you down on your back and wrapping his arms around you before he starts to pick up the pace on his thrusts. “better baby?”

you can’t even speak as he frantically pumps into you, hips knocking into yours. his mouth at your ear he's moaning, “You feel so good- fuck- I'm gonna fill you up- I-“ he cut himself off on a whimper, “I wanna fill you up so bad, I can’t take it, I need to please,” he presses his face into your neck as he begs. “please,”

he twitched inside you, thrusts turning sloppy as you wrap your legs around his waist. his soft mewls sending you over the edge, your back arching as you came, dots forming in your vision. you’re clenching so much that he can hardly move anymore, hips pressed flush against yours as he stills, warm cum filling you.

Yeonjun pressed a messy kiss to your lips, going back to his slow thrusts to feel how slick you were with both of your cum. every other thrust he pressed into your womb feeling the way your pussy fluttered for him. He gave a lazy smile into your kiss before pulling out. you gave a shaky breath from the loss, your legs falling from around his waist as he leaned back to look at the mess he had made of you. “my pretty girl looking her absolute best,” you could feel the cum slipping out of you and he scooped it up with his thumb to push it back in, “stuffed full of my cum just as she should be,”

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Don't Judge A Book By Its Cover

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.3k

Warnings: none

Summary: You’re plagued by the kid who lives in your neighborhood, the kid you know has a crush on you. You left town, you lived your life without him, and now you’re staring at him face to face after years. Something about him has changed and now you can’t help but want him back.

Square Filled: art student au for @spencerreidbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

Then

As soon as the last bell at school rings, you race off campus to start the walk home. It’s not a far walk but you enjoy the silence you get from it. Your house is filled with little brothers and sisters and it’s hard to get a moment of peace. Your parents do the best they can but you know it’s hard for them. You’re the oldest so you’re expected to help out which is why you also enjoy your time alone.

You walk around the corner and notice the sixth house down from yours with the garage open. You’re not sure how you feel but something washes over you knowing what’s going to come next. Maybe it’s annoyance or irritation or indifference but the same thing happens every single time you walk home from school.

The only kid that lives there, Spencer Reid, loves to come out and walk with you the rest of the way to your house. He’s a nice kid but that’s all he is--a kid. He’s two years older than you are but you’re much taller than he is. If he is going to get a growth spurt, he’s getting it late in life or maybe his family are just short people. He’s not enrolled in your school because he’s mega smart and needs higher education to stimulate his brain.

You slip past his house in hopes you can enjoy the rest of your walk in silence but you hear the garage door slam shut and footsteps padding down the driveway.

“Hey, Y/N! Almost missed you.”

“Hi, Spencer,” you shake your head.

“How was your day?”

“It was fine. It’s just school.”

“Today was my first day of college and it was exhilarating. I have to admit, I wish you were there. Or I wish I was enrolled in your high school like all the other normal kids. At least we’d be together.”

You knew he had a crush on you after the first conversation you ever had with him. He called you pretty and vowed he’d walk with you to protect you against predators. It was cute at first but not you’re interested in someone like him. Like you said, he’s nice and has the potential of being a good boyfriend but he’s short and you don’t go for short boys.

“Sure, Spencer.”

“Listen, my mom gave me some money and I wanted to see this new French film that’s playing across town. Do you think you’d want to maybe go with me?”

Never has he ever had the balls to ask you out. Now that he has, you need to put a stop to this. He’ll get over the crush and you won’t be humiliated every time you go out in public. Does that make you selfish? Maybe. Does that make you a douche? Definitely. You stop outside of your house and look down at Spencer who has a hopeful look in his eyes.

“Spencer, listen, you’re a nice kid but it’s never going to happen between us.” Spencer’s face falls but he doesn’t say anything. “Grow over six feet and then we’ll talk, okay?”

You meant that as a joke but you don’t stick around to see if he laughs. That’s the last time you ever saw Spencer Reid.

Now

Today is the day. You’re given the opportunity to feature your art in one of the most successful art galleries in the country. You studied at Princeton and got a degree in fine arts before interning for known artist Benjamin Hale. He’s so successful that he has hundreds of galleries across America with dozens more across the world. He was impressed with your portfolio and offered to let you study underneath him while creating your artwork in private.

He offered you a chance to showcase your work in one of his new galleries. According to him, he needs new blood in this gallery and you’re the perfect fit for it. Your speciality is portraits, realism, and photorealism. Your favorite things to draw are people but there is something about being in nature and drawing what God put on this Earth. You have an eye for making your paintings look real and raw, and you’re able to capture people’s emotions henceforth the realism part of your art.

You only have about a dozen works put up in your small corner of the gallery but you’re proud of it all. You might not sell anything tonight and that’s okay. When you got the word out that the gallery was going to open, people agreed to come once they saw free food and wine was going to be handed out. Still, you appreciate everyone coming.

The place is packed mostly for Benjamin’s work but you see some people enjoying your work. You’re in the back room getting more wine for the servers when one of them joins you.

“Hey, Y/N.”

“Oh, hey, Lori. I’ve just gotten the box of wine for you guys.”

“I just came back here to tell you that someone just bought all of your things.” You’re so shocked that you spring up but hit your head on the corner of a shelf. You yelp in pain and rub the sore area before backing out of the dusty corner. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. What did you just say?”

“Someone bought all of your work.”

You don’t wait to hear what else she has to say. You’re already out the door and rushing into the main room. You look to your section but don’t see anyone lingering around. You’re not paying attention to where you’re walking when you almost run into someone. The man grabs your shoulders to prevent you from falling and lets out a chuckle.

“Are you okay?”

Wait you know that voice. You look up at the man towering over six feet tall. Damn, he grew up.

“Spencer?”

“So, you do remember me.”

He lets go of your shoulders and allows you to take a step back from him. Damn, not only did he grow but he grew more handsome since the last time you saw him. Well, he was fifteen the last time you saw him but still.

“How could I forget the little boy who followed me for two years?”

“Yeah, I kind of had a crush on you,” he chuckles.

Oh, he even has a beautiful smile. Damn, I really was a dick to him back then. You try to ignore the pang of sadness at his use of “had” and not “have”.

“I know you did. I’m sorry, but I need to go.”

“Looking for someone?” he asks before you have a chance to leave his side.

“Yeah, someone bought everything I have out.”

“It was me.”

You pause and turn to look at him. He has a slight smirk on his face, and something in your head clicks into place. You look at him up and down and notice how he’s trying hard not to be overly confident in his decision.

“So, what, you got older and taller and now you think you’re hot shit?”

Spencer shrugs and shoves his hands into his pockets.

“You’re the one looking up, not me.” Your jaw drops several inches at his remark. “So, can we talk now?”

“Excuse me?”

“You told me to grow over six feet and we’ll talk. Well, I’m over six feet now. Will you let me take you out?”

You have no clue what to say to that because your mind is reeling from the last thing he said. Someone calls his name and you both see a black man, two blondes, and a brunette waving him over. They point to their watches which means he is either late or they have to go. He digs in his pocket and produces a business card. Only it’s not a business card. He’s in the fucking FBI.

“How about this?” He hands the card to you. “Call me when I can pick this stuff up and maybe we’ll talk then.”

He leaves your side and joins his friend group without another look at you. Is it shallow to want him now? Maybe. Are you going to try like hell to make up for lost time? Definitely.

x

Want to be tagged? Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[kbspangler]

This is the public statement from @alepresser and myself which went up at Webtoons tonight.

Now for some ranting. Just from me, not from Ale—she's innocent of the art crimes I've committed in the past, and boy howdy have I committed art crimes.

This is the first page of my first webcomic, A Girl and Her Fed. I started this thing back in 2006. (I don't actually need a head count of those reading this who weren't yet born in 2006. I'm sure you're delightful and I wish you well in college.)

And this is the last page I drew in early 2020 before I turned art duties over to Dr. Beer. It's better, right?

Well, these days, A Girl and Her Fed has pages like this:

I drew this comic for fourteen fucking years because it's a story I wanted to tell, and I thought webcomics were the perfect format for it. I didn't know how to draw. I got better through sheer obstinate perseverance and sticking to deadlines as best I could for, again, fourteen fucking years. I sought out a replacement artist when I ran into time constraints and couldn't do art plus writing anymore; I'm a much better writer than an artist, so I had no problems whatsoever kicking art to the curb.

The first time Ale sent me art that would go up on the website—art I hadn't needed to draw myself—I literally cried in relief because I had been grinding myself down for, yet again, fourteen fucking years.

So when I read comments from people who say they want to make a webcomic but can't draw themselves and therefore need to resort to AI, that little line between my eyes gets dangerously deep.

This isn't like I'm some old dude who's bitching over student loans getting cancelled after making regular payments. This is me, someone who threw raw art onto the internet like a monkey hurling fresh poo, because I wanted to make a webcomic and the art is part of the process of storytelling via webcomics! I could've (arguably should've) hired an artist right out of the gate, and that would've been part of the process of making comics, too: a partnership between an artist and a writer is also something which grows and develops over time.

For example, after Dr. Beer and I spent two years working on AGAHF, we decided we enjoyed our partnership so much that we set out to make another webcomic! It's great! It's got wonderful art and consistent storytelling! You should read it!

But turning art duties over to unaltered images generated by AI because you want to make a webcomic but "just can't draw" is, frankly, a bullshit excuse. I'm not talking about persons who are physically unable to draw due to disability—I'm talking about people who say they want to make webcomics but simply don't wanna do the art part.

Friends, if you don't want to show your entire ass in front of God and country, you don't actually want to make a webcomic.

Do the thing yourself.

If you're scared, don't be. Take the plunge. Set a goal of twenty strips and do the thing yourself. If you can already draw but can't write? Great! Write twenty strips, write forty panels, etc. You might surprise yourself. If you can write but can't draw? Great! Draw twenty panels and see what happens.

Whatever comes out of it, it's a thing you've done yourself. It's something new you've given to the world, no matter how big or small. Be proud of that. And if you need to partner with someone else to make your comic dreams work? You can do that, too! It's still a thing you've done yourself, and many projects are stronger when done together.

...but maaaaaaaaaybe hire that partner before you've busted your own ass for fourteen fucking years. That one's on me.

[pit-2-podium]

I really think the Williams team hasn't realized how much of their treatment towards Logan has lost them a lot of good will among fans. Like take his lap of legends, so much work went in to that, (from Logan, Williams Alumni, and the team behind it), was such a big opportunity, and really could have had generated some much needed good pr for the team and Logan, especially with the team and their treatment of Logan. Yet they allowed it to be overshadowed by the Alex announcement, like really you couldn't have waited at least a few days?

The moment Logan leaves I can see a lot of fans, just not interacting with Williams content anymore. As much as we talk about Alex and James Vowles being the ones who are restructuring/rebuilding Williams you can't forget Logan has also been a major face of that movement. All of their new era content, like their podcasts and interviews, Logan has played a major part in and I think a lot of fans will have a bad taste in their mouth watching once he leaves on such bad terms. Because realistically Logan has the perfect personality for that type of content and it will be nearly impossible to replace him there, its why he and Alex work together so well, they can match the energy and tangents.

Then you have to take into account of them Americans and drive to survive people. They get a lot of hate for either liking the sport at all or how they get into it. Logan is their driver, if you look at social media beyond Instagram comments you will find so much support for him. It is one thing to drop Logan as a driver because he's under-preforming (though I have thoughts about That to) but to go from saying you are going to do everything to help logan to publicly flirting with new drivers? Thats just rude. And now Williams are shutting themselves off from these markets/fan bases. I'm sorry but realistically Logan is leaving F1 and Americans will no longer have a home driver to root for and they will blame Williams for that so people will not stick around.

TLDR; Williams by being dicks have shot themselves in the foot next year publicity wise

[saphronethaleph]

Literary Illusions

“It’s ironic,” Palpatine said, shaking his head. “He could save others from death, but not himself.”

Anakin frowned.

“And this is something the Jedi wouldn’t have told me?” he asked.

“Of course not,” Palpatine replied. “Is it a story you’ve heard?”

“Well, yes,” Anakin said. “Just now, from you. But not before then… and that surprises me, Chancellor.”

Palpatine shrugged. “I think you’ll find, Anakin, that the Jedi have not been telling you everything.”

“Maybe not, but… honestly, that sounds like exactly the kind of thing they’d tell me,” Anakin said.

Palpatine frowned.

“...what?” he asked.

“You know,” Anakin said. “Some Sith Lord works out how to bring people back to life from the dead, but his apprentice kills him and doesn’t bring him back to life because the Sith are inherently self destructive. If the two of them had worked together and been able to trust one another, they’d have been immortal.”

He shrugged. “It’s a good illustration of the inherently self destructive nature of the Dark Side, and it’s the dichotomy of how the Dark Side leads you to seek power in order to achieve goals that you then discard as irrelevant, because they’re not directly related to gaining power… hold on a second.”

Palpatine was a little distracted by trying to avoid mentally kicking himself, so it took him somewhat more than a second to notice what Anakin was doing.

“...Anakin?” he said. “Are you getting your comlink out?”

“Yeah,” Anakin replied. “Going to text Obi-Wan, ask him what he thinks of the story. Maybe there’s some kind of detail I missed which makes it less of a good illustration of the different worldviews and mindsets of the Jedi and the Sith.”

The Knight shrugged, his thumbs tapping away at his comlink. “He probably knows it, he knows all of the old stories.”

Palpatine blinked several times.

“...don’t,” he said, then very discreetly scrambled for a reason why. “It’s the middle of a performance. We don’t want to interrupt them.”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s on silent,” Anakin replied, with a shrug. “Or vibrate. Did I put it on vibrate… hang on, Chancellor, I’ll make sure it’s on silent…”

He turned the comlink over, then a loud bwing sounded.

“Oh, right, I forgot to set it to do not disturb mode,” Anakin said. “Hang on… uh… yeah, there we go, I forgot I added all these custom modes. I’ve been missing a lot of sleep lately.”

“Perhaps-” Palpatine began, but Anakin spoke over him.

“Huh,” he said. “He says he’s never heard of it either. Wants to know where I heard about it, it looks like he’s really interested… or maybe he’s trying to tell me about a death stick vendor, he’s terrible with multiglyphs and he thinks he’s good at them.”

Anakin glanced at the Chancellor, hoping for some solidarity, then visibly noticed that the Chancellor was several decades older than him and abandoned that.

“Is there a book I can get the whole story from?” he asked, instead. “Obi-Wan is better at nuances, like I say.”

“That is not the point,” Palpatine said, trying not to get visibly angry. “The point is that there is a way to save your loved ones!”

“Maybe there used to be, but not any more,” Anakin shrugged. “Like you said, this was a Sith thing and the Sith are all dead. Well, unless General Grievous is a Sith who knows how to heal people, but I doubt it given how much he got hurt, and I’m not sure Dooku knew it either… hey, if this story needs to be publicized more then maybe we could have them do a play of that instead?”

Palpatine blinked several times, as he tried to keep up with a Jedi with possible undiagnosed ADHD and found himself discovering a lack of talent for podracing.

“What?” he asked.

“You know, a play,” Anakin explained. “Dramatic betrayals, lost loved ones, it would probably do numbers. It’d be better than this, anyway.”

He waved his hand at the ongoing performance of Squid Lake.

“...what is wrong with Squid Lake?” Palpatine said, before reflecting that that had really been a stupid question for him to ask and that he should have asked a much better one.

“Well, uh,” Anakin began, looking a bit abashed. “Actually now I say it out loud this might be really culturally insensitive of me, but to me this play might as well be eighty minutes of people boasting about having enough water to swim in.”

“It’s a ballet,” Palpatine told him, now completely having lost control of the conversation.

“It’s just a less scary version of Sarlacc Pit,” Anakin went on. “Someone tried to drown me in a lake once, because they thought I couldn’t swim, but floating on sand is much harder, you barely have to do anything to escape a lake. You just float.”

Very belatedly, Anakin caught sight of Palpatine’s look of total befuddlement, and shrugged.

“Watto was a lot of things,” he said. “But he had culture.”

Palpatine’s hands twitched, as he very seriously considered the idea of abandoning literal centuries of Sith planning and decades of personal political advancement in favour of stabbing Anakin somewhere it would hurt.

It was extraordinarily tempting.

“...hold on,” Anakin said, slowly. “I guess… the thing I’d like most at the moment is for… and that means… this is literally one of those times when I could fall to the Dark Side because of it, like Darth Plagueis.”

He bestowed a grateful smile on Palpatine. “Thanks, Chancellor! I need to make a call, I guess the ballet won’t mind.”

Palpatine was so thrown by the swerve that he couldn’t think of a way to stop Anakin in the few seconds he had.

“Love?” Anakin said, into his commlink. “I… think we need to come clean, because otherwise I’ll fall to the Dark Side.”

Palpatine’s eye twitched.

[tea-cat-arts]

Ranking mxtx couples by whether or not I think they'd be good parents

(I'm 90% sure I'm forgetting someone)

Yep, next question (S)-

Wangxian: tried and tested good dads. I wish them luck with the whole “trying to get wwx pregnant” thing 

They have some shit to work through, but after that I think they'd be fine (A)-

Ling Wen/ Bai Jin: if we're just going off the original publication, I would put them in a much lower tier, but since the revised edition added that thing about them raising orphans together and said orphans turning out alright before unfortunate circumstances, I'm putting them up here. I think they'll be alright once they work through the miscommunication

Xiao Xingchen/ Song Lan: They obviously have a lot of trauma they're working through, but I'd like to think they and A-Qing will be a loving family in the long run 

One of them would be a good parent, the other wouldn't be a bad parent (B)-

Jiang Yanli/ Jin Zixuan: there's no canon reason for me putting them this low. Jin Zixuan just gives off a mediocre parent vibe to me (and we all know Jiang Yanli is the best)

Yushipei: Yushi Huang has good mom energy, and Pei Ming has been shown to be a not terrible mentor. I'd want the misogyny fully beaten out of him with a mace before I'd think he should have kids of his own though 

Lang Qianqiu/ Little Guy: at the very least, they're making sure Guzi is fed, clothed, washed, vaccinated, and has access to education. Neither of them know what they're doing, but I think Little Guy is good at faking it. I wish them luck in their upcoming custody battle  

You know what, surprise me/ I'll hear you out (C)-

Bingqiu: My first instinct is “no, do not bring kids into this,” but then I remembered tharnShen Qingqiu has a surprisingly decent track record? Like, Ning Yingying and Ming Fan both turned out a lot more health than they did in the original novel, and though I wouldn't call him in a good place, Binghe is doing a lot better than Bingge. The wild card for me here is Luo Binghe because I have no idea how he'd be with kids

Quanyin: Yin Yu had a decent track record until he was pushed into snapping. I think rn, he needs a couple centuries of being a babygirl before he's ready to parent again. No idea how Quan Yizhen would do though 

Born to “dual income, no kids, rich uncles/aunts” (D)-

Fengqing: Feng Xin is canonically a bad dad. I know he's working on it, but it is what it is. Mu Qing has been shown to be decent with kids, but I think he’d have a melt down if he had to deal with the mess constantly. 

Hualian: I mean, Xie Lian has raised three kids at this point and one of them became a god, another became state preceptor and then sorta complicit in a genocide, and one became god AND committed genocide + he babysat a ghost king for months and didn't even realize that's what he was because it was a miracle if he remembered to feed him… so, a mixed bag. Hua Cheng may be schrodinger’s child hater, but I'm intrigued by the idea of him raising kids just because I want to know how his own childhood would influence his parenting abilities. They should probably just stick to babysitting for now though 

Mingling: Liu Mingyan is too busy writing gay porn to be dealing with kids, and I just can't imagine Sha Hualing as a mom

Please don't bring a kid into this mess (F)-

Beefleaf: Do I need to explain this one?

Mobeishang: Shang Qinghua should not be put in any position where he has to teach someone about consent (Binghe’s early attempts at flirting being a prime example of why that's a bad idea). I also think Mobei Jun is still working on the whole “why hitting people is not cool” thing. 

QiJiu: I think the original timeline is a prime example of how they're just not in a place to be raising kids 

Jun Wu/ Mei Nianqing: Xie Lian would like a refund on his adopted father figures. They had one kid and he only made it to age 20 because he was cursed to not die

[01zfan]

muscle memory | p. wb

waiter!wonbin x waitress!reader | 5.9k words

WONBIN ANON(S) THIS ONE IS FOR Y’ALL!

contains: random idols mentioned for world building, semi-public sex, unprotected sex

you sat next to the pass waiting for the food you ordered for your table to be put out. it was ironically one of the few areas in the restaurant where you could gather your thoughts despite objectively being in the middle of all the chaos. this was the one place in the restaurant where you could actively see all moving parts in the restaurant coming together. next to the pass was also the personal dining room of you and your coworkers, the designated spot where discarded food was up for grabs. so you basked in the organized chaos of your restaurant while eating almost cold parmesan aioli fries.

from your seat on your barstool you could see the cooks in the open faced kitchen work preparing people’s food. you could see the fire coming to life in their woks, and how they didn’t flinch away. you could hear them yelling out terms and phrases to eachother about dishes. you perked up when you heard the items of the dish you were waiting for be called out. you looked down the line quickly, but went back to your slouching position when nothing you needed was there. 

you sat there eating the discarded food, half focused on putting something in your empty stomach while half focused on the sounds around you. you waited to hear the signature ding of a new dish being done, but all your ears could pick up was the sound of more tickets being printed and the low-volume music playing in the kitchen. if you got close enough enough and if it was loud enough you could sometimes recognize the words and sing along. you had built up a rapport with them that way, singing along to their songs and passing along compliments from the customers. when they were feeling generous enough, they would even prioritize your staff meal and actually make your on the fly items quickly.

you couldn’t decipher the song in the kitchen. it was drowned out by the million other sounds happening around you. you heard your fellow server yelling into the kitchen about something being made wrong. you looked up to see it was giselle, nearly sitting on the pass to lean as far as she could into the kitchen. any argument she tried to start failed. you knew it would be forgotten after closing, but in the moment it seemed intense. curses were being thrown over the wall on both sides and made it down the line. you wondered if you would have to call for shotaro to mediate the situation, but everyone seemed unbothered as they continued with their job. in less than a minute, giselle was handed her food and she had a smile on her face as she made her way back to the dining room. after seeing the exchange, all you could do was shake you head and go back to your fries.

you had learned a long time ago to stand off to the side when altercations happen. you only recently got in the good graces of most the people you worked with. the last thing you needed was to be put on someone’s shit list for rightfully asking for your food to be ready, or to ask them to calm down.

that was a big problem you developed working here. becoming fine with getting the short end of the stick. if anton sat a seven-top, two five-tops, and three two-tops in your section you only smiled and nodded your head. if someone asked you to come in for them even if you didn’t want to, you said yes. if one of your coworkers asked for your helped even if you were swamped you ran twice as fast to make sure you could save them. you never dared to yell, stomp your feet, or say no. you took it as penance for no other reason than simply existing. you knew everyone was aware of your pushover personality, you just hoped eventually they would give you grace.

normally, you would’ve set your foot down by now, at the very least set up boundaries for your coworkers on what they could ask for. you practiced the speech a million times, each one unique to the unfair things your coworkers would ask for. anton it would be about sitting too many big parties in your section. giselle would be how she rushes too much. winter would be about her laziness when it comes to being on the pass. sungchan’s would be that he helps too much, making you feel inferior at your job. but you keep it all at bay for penance, to make yourself pay for how you unfairly judged your perfect coworker.

you had been hired at the company two months ago. it was hard to navigate at first, having to swallow your pride from not finding a job in your career field. any shame you felt melted after hearing their were multiple “young professionals” at your job. you were even more excited to hear that there was actually someone else with the exact same degree as you, and seemingly went to the same school as you. before you could ask any questions the interview went on, and any questions about other people cleared your mind when you got the job.

when wonbin almost ran into you on your first day, you dropped all of your drinks. it came as a surprise, seeing a face you hadn’t seen in so long. he was different, his black hair that never touched his ears went past his chin now, and he was faster on his feet. he also was the apodeictic leader of the waitstaff, earned through his lack of mistakes, ability to speak his mind, and being a guest favorite. in that moment it became clear who the person that had the same major as you was, and it was too late to quit. you had gotten a taste for the money, and this was the only job on the market that would hire you. 

so you stuck through it, swallowing your pride each time wonbin helped you correct a mistake or appease an angry customer. you were grateful for the help, and to have someone who knew what they were doing by your side. something would randomly hit you like a pang in your chest realizing wonbin was better at this than you. all the times you bested him in school seemed to pale in comparison to this, something that actually mattered.

while you were with your trainer sungchan you were distracted, keeping an eye out for wonbin so you could ignore his gaze. what bothered you even more was the fact that wonbin was unbothered. with an exception for the first time he saw you, everything was business as usual with him. he was nothing like the wonbin you used to know, who was petty and didn’t let things go. this wonbin didn’t bring up your past to you or anyone who asked how you two knew eachother. this wonbin only simply said you two went to school together, greatly undermining the time you two together. 

working with wonbin took weeks to get used to. they were slow steps forward, finally making it out of the initial awkwardness to exchange pleasantries. 

you finally were able to have a conversation with your coworkers while wonbin was present. before you would simply go silent when he came around, avoiding eye contact when he would ask you a question directly. 

the conversation was what it normally was during slow mornings, complaints regarding work. you had to spend a ridiculous amount of money on the uniform with no help from upper levels of management. sungchan and giselle shared your complaints, even talking about how later down the line you would have to pay for dry cleaning.

“what would you suggest to fix the situation?” wonbin asked.

it was a question directed at you, unavoidable as wonbin titled his head. you thought for a moment before keeping eye contact with wonbin.

“they could have designated days of the month where they take all of our stuff to dry clean for cheap.” you reasoned.

you felt your heart pound in your chest as you held eye contact with wonbin. you were expecting a rebuttal from him, from anyone before you saw sungchan nod his head.

“there’s discounts for bulk at that place a couple blocks down.” giselle said.

“they could also pay us for buying parts of our uniform.” you added on.

”that would be a dream.” sungchan said.

all of you nodded in agreement before dispersing to get back to your jobs. wonbin hesitated for a second, and your own steps faltered. but he only cleared his throat and went his separate way to tend to a newly sat table.

within two says, there was a list pinned to the corkboard wall for dry cleaning. three times a month, designated days were listed neatly. you already saw a few names, wonbin’s at the very top. you also saw a stack of new waiter aprons and a request sheet to fill out for missing or replacement uniform pieces. you looked around in the break room, feeling angry burn in your chest and eyes. you were hostile the rest of the day, taking it out of your coworkers and customers that were snappy to you first. you didn’t let it out until you caught wonbin in the back of house, sitting in the managers chair as he collected his tips. the anger surged through your fingertips and your feet, causing you to stomp into the room.

“really wonbin?” you called out.

he seemed confused, looking up from his money to your frown.

“what?” wonbin asked.

“i get that this is the first time in your life probably being in a higher up position, but that doesn’t give you the right to claim them as your own.” you quietly yelled.

wonbin sat in the chair, staring at you in shock while your chest finally loosened. the shock and confusion was replaced anger of his own, and you could see wonbin take a deep breath before leaning back in the chair. he looked at you with a calm and even expression now, your exact opposite. he turned in his chair to go back to counting the money.

“i see you haven’t changed one bit.” he said simply.

somehow, that hit you harder than any insult could’ve. it had you averting your gaze from wonbin again, focusing on stacks of paper and the sound of the printer. he said nothing else to you, just letting you bask in the shame of your anger. 

when you turned tail to leave you were face to face with a manager, thanking you for your smart idea about the dry cleaning.

“hands please!” winter yelled down the pass.

you snapped up from the barstool, swallowing the week old memory and the stale food so fast it felt like a lump in your throat. you wiped your face with the back of your hand before using a wet napkin to clean your fingers. 

you made a straight line for winter working on expo while pinching your server apron between your fingers to dry them. winter’s piercing voice was like a bat signal for the servers, when she spoke suddenly everyone was there. sohee pushed open the two-way door from the kitchen to come to her, with sungchan trailing close behind. eunseok and seunghan were lucky they didn’t have to worry about friday nights, but they had their own personal hell on sunday mornings. 

winter handed off everyone’s dishes one by one. you saw more and more people rush off as they had the orders they needed. you waited patiently for winter to hand you the plates. 

by the time almost everyone else was gone, you were left with your ungarnished plates.

“i’m swamped, and desserts are coming out soon. can you finish this off for me?” winter asked.

winter posed it as a question and you knew you could say no, but it felt like an order. she barely finished her sentence before she was moving back down the pass, tearing the tickets off to impale them on the metal spindle next to your fries. the pass was empty, and winter relaxed on the barstool to eat your food. 

your response to winter sat at the tip of your tongue. your stomach growled, and you started to imagine your tables waiting for their food. were they hungry like you were while you watched winter scarf down the rest of your fries? you could’ve told winter no, to tell her to do your job like you had to do yours. but when you saw wonbin coming to the pass from the dining room you bit your tongue before turning to your plates to garnish. 

wonbin saw you finishing the plating. he had empty plates in his hand and was making a path for the dishwasher, but you garnishing your dishes stopped him dead in his tracks. he turned to look at and winter quickly turned to look at him, getting up from her seat to try and look busy working. he saw right through it, tilting his head as she looked at the blank computer screen.

“really winter?” wonbin said.

she quickly shrugged and her eyes got wide to defend herself.

“she doesn’t mind.” she said defensively.

wonbin got a little closer, trying not to make his voice heard.

“she has three large parties all sat within five minutes of eachother. you should do your job so she can do hers.” he said.

winter’s eyes softened sympathetically when wonbin told her about the amount of people. she nodded her head and wonbin headed off to the back of house. he passed by you while you finished your final dish, not sparing you a second glance.

you strategically placed the dishes on the bigger black plate, hoisting it off the pass to rest it on your shoulder. you stole a glance at wonbin for a second, and you could see his eyes dart to the amount of food balancing on your shoulder. the food to feed your seven-top weighed down on you, but you had to start getting the food out now to give yourself grace for the five-top. you could feel winter’s eyes on you as you slowly found the right position for the plate. you turned and started heading for the dining room when you saw sungchan heading straight towards you.

before you could head to the dining room with your food, winter called out to you.

“i have to get this food out to my table.” you said as politely as possible.

“i’ll garnish for the rest of the night. sorry about that.” winter apologized.

the food started to hurt your shoulder, but the acknowledgement and apology from winter made the food feel a little lighter. you nodded your head thankfully before turning back to the dining room. 

the rest of the dinner rush went as expected. things went wrong, you had to be bailed out, you had to bail others out. you got tipped well sometimes but got tipped the worst for the bigger parties. you wore yourself ragged jumping up and down for the customers and your coworkers. you ended up staying behind to do opening duties, something that should’ve been reserved for the openers. you were the last of the waitstaff to leave, saying a goodbye to your manager as he locked the door behind you.

when you finally left through the back door into the parking lot, your shift was nearly eleven hours. a quarter after one, calculating your route home made your slippers drag across the paved parking lot as you made your way to your car. you could feel some gravel find its way between the slipper and your foot. the small sharp rock poked through your sock and was stabbed against your foot, but you didn’t care. it paled in comparison to the pain of being on your feet all day. maybe the acupuncture could relieve some of the stress that weighed down on your shoulders.

the sound of your car waking up to you pressing the unlock button distracted you from wonbin on the other side of the parking lot. it wasn’t until he rolled down his manual windows and called out your name that you saw he was there. you have to blink a few times to realize who it was. exhaustion made your eyes droop and a little blurry. when your vision focussed you saw he was beckoning you to come to him. you looked at your car, so ready for you to get inside and drive home. but the guilt your situation carried your tired legs to wonbin’s car. he motioned you to the passenger side. you pulled on the lock handle once, and after wonbin let out an evil giggle he unlocked the door.

you sat quietly in the passenger seat, listening to the quiet music in wonbin’s car. you were only illuminated by the lamppost in the parking lot and the small light in the front seat. you stared straight ahead, awkwardly sitting upright waiting for wonbin to say what he needed to say. his thumbs tapped on his steering wheel, trying to get out what he needed to say.

“you’re overworked.” he said.

you scoffed and shook your hair lightly. you pressed a finger to your temple and turned to look outside.

“everyone is overworked.” you say.

“you are taking on a bigger workload for no reason.” you kept your head turned outside, desperately trying to ignore the caring tone in wonbin’s voice. “just because someone tells you to do something, doesn’t mean you have to.” he says.

“i do it because i want to.” you say quietly.

now it’s wonbin’s turn to scoff at you. you turn your head and narrow your eyebrows.

“what?” you say defensively.

“you want to garnish your own dishes when you have two five-tops and a seven-top waiting on their food?” wonbin asked you a question, but didn’t wait for your answer before shaking his head “give me a break.” he said.

you clench your hands at your sides, trying desperately to remain calm. but wonbin finds ways to push your buttons, found ways to make you so mad. the fake worry, the way he watched your every move without you knowing, the way he was right. 

“it’s none of your business what i do.” you said. 

“are you just going to keep letting everyone boss you around? do you plan on ever standing up for yourself?” he said.

wonbin had let of of the steering wheel, using his hands to argue with you like he always used to do. you cross your arms into your chest and tilt your head condescendingly.

“you don’t know anything.” you sneer.

“i know you’re making yourself suffer for no reason.” wonbin takes off his beanie, running a stressed hand through his hair. you keep your eye on his hand after sparing a glance to how his hair falls perfectly on his face. “is it because you thought i stole your ideas? so you just don’t advocate for yourself anymore?” he asked.

the incident hadn’t been brought up by either of you since it transpired. you half hoped he would’ve forgotten, but you knew wonbin always remembered. you had to pretend like you didn’t care when you shook your head, turning to look out the window.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about.” you lied.

“oh okay.” wonbin laughed. “just because you think we still have childish beef from college doesn’t mean you get to act the way you do.”

“i’m just not used to you being better than me at things.” you say.

it’s a challenge, the way you look at wonbin from your relaxed position on the door. you let your eyes go over his face a million times, resting on his lips after you lick yours. you almost forgot about the rush you got with pushing wonbin’s buttons. the feeling was freeing after a long day of running around for other people all day without saying a single smart remark. 

wonbin thinks about the type of person he is now. he thinks about how you two have been in this situation before, with you baiting him. you looked at him the same way you did now. back then he perceived the look in your eye as combative. but now, realization dawned on him. how he had never noticed before was beyond him. his eyes got wide as you leaned in with a smirk on your face. wonbin is timid, refusing to let his mind do something he might regret.

you the one that closes the space between you and wonbin by coming over the center console. you linger there for a second, waiting for his hand to come to your neck before you pull away.

”i’m not sorry by the way,” you brush hair out of wonbin’s face. “you should’ve told you were going to do that before you did it.” you say.

wonbin nods his head, completely giving up any argument he could’ve had with you. your smile is bright—you’ve bested him at another thing.

“i’ll do whatever you want.” he said.

you smiled before going back to wonbin’s lips. his hand on the back of your neck kept you in place, and his tilting head forced you to let him take the lead. you fought for it back through an iron grip on his shirt, pulling him forward. 

wonbin settled for letting you stick your tongue in his mouth to let his hand wander your body. he rested over your chest, lightly squeezing your breasts before moving down to your hips. he pulled you forward slightly, a hand underneath your ass lifting for from your seat. you pull away and sigh. wonbin looks at your expectantly, and you let him worry for just a moment before clearing the center console with your legs and straddling him.

“you’re still bossy.” you said matter-of-factly.

“you know, i’m technically not your boss.” wonbin said. 

he waited to say it until after his lips were already glossy with your spit and you were straddling his lap. even if whatever you were going to end up doing to wonbin wasn’t allowed, you were too far in now to back down. nothing he said would’ve stopped you from working the buttons on his shirt, or his hands that cupped your chest.

“we can’t get in trouble for whatever we do.” wonbin continued.

he looked up from your chest to look at you. he let your hand go to the buttons on his shirt before he went to yours. it was deliberate and slow, each button made the tension in the car go up. your shirts weren’t even undone all the way before your lips clashed together again. 

the kisses were messy like they always were. both of your tongues were mingling, the wet muscles causing a mess on the corner of your lips. the sound of spit being swapped filled the car, and wt kisses cooled the heating skin of your faces. your hands gripped wonbin’s shoulders, and his hand went to your pants. the button was stubborn and wonbin got no help from his shaky hands. it took entirely too long to get your pants open enough for wonbin to plunge his hand underneath the waistband of your panties.

instantly, wonbin almost cursed at your desperation. you were so wet the fabric of your underwear stuck to your folds. he wasted no time slowly sliding a finger into your heat, his eyes focused on your face when he made it to the knuckle. he put his second finger in a little faster, bending them when you brought his lips back in for a kiss. 

by the time wonbin put his third finger in your kisses devolved to sucking on his bottom lip. the way you were rutting your hips against his hand and gripping his bicep to keep his hand in place. wonbin watched you use him, unbothered by your desperation. seeing you get wound up so easily and hearing a quiet song about being all alone and needing someone made his dick twitch in his pants.

“been awhile?” wonbin asked.

wonbin’s words were laced with amazement, half talking about himself. the lewd wet sounds and whimpers from you both were already filling up the small space of his car. he was trying to make you feel better while you were still defensive. something in your mind still convincing you everything wonbin said was meant to be sarcastic, even if his pupils were blown wide looking at you.

“shut up.” you whine.

your whiny voice made your words bite less, and the way your hole fluttered around his fingers made wonbin want to keep going. he brought a hand behind your back to pull you further onto his lap. you pressed your chest against wonbin’s, still helplessly rocking your hips into his hand while whimpering into the crook of his neck. he cooed at you and gripped your side to keep you in place. it was the same bruising grip he would have on you in the relationship, one that he would always look at in pride the next morning. 

his fingers pushed inside of you at a skilled pace, wonbin would have to pat himself on the back for keeping such a steady groove while he was getting needier by the second. too many times in your relationship he would get lost and chase his own pleasure, going to fast for your liking. but wonbin was matured now, he changed. he could finger you at a pace that made you want more instead of giving you too much, and he could hit the spots you used to like despite the awkward angling in his car. he bent his fingers, smirking to himself when he could feel your body tense.

“fuck.” you moaned into his neck.

you reached out a tongue to lick the hot skin of wonbins neck. he preened closer to your mouth, the only hint he would drop that he wanted you to mark him like old times.

wonbin figured you got the hint, because a desperate hand pushed down his work uniform to uncover previously hidden parts of his neck and chest. your eyes scanned for a second, trying to figure out how high your marks could go while still being hidden. you went for a place on his collarbone and your lips found the perfect spot as if from muscle memory.

“no one will see.” wonbin said. 

his hands went to your ass, groping you over the fabric of your pants. he wedged one hand into your pants, reaching all the way down until he could get a handful of you. 

you continued sucking on his skin as your hands went down to the tent in wonbin’s pants. you moved so hasty that you didn’t bother with the button. all you did was unzip his pants before reaching into the fly of his underwear to grab his dick. wonbin hiss as he bucked his hips into your hand. his tip was angry and red, glossy from the precum that seemed never ending. his dick sat upright and fit perfectly into your fist. 

you wasted no time running your hand up and down wonbin’s length, the sound echoing off the walls in his car. wonbin started sucking on the exposed skin of your chest and laving any area his tongue could reach. you let your body lean back, a spare hand moving your shirt to expose more skin to wonbin. his hands started at your hips and worked their way up, grabbing anything he could. when wonbin got to the nape of your neck he pulled you in for a kiss. desperation from only getting chaste kisses turned to you pumping wonbin’s length faster. he continued to kiss you softly, hissing when the teeth of his zipper rubbed against his sensitive skin.

“does it hurt?” you asked breathlessly.

wonbin nods, reaching for the button of his pants. your shaking hands work together to unbutton the top, and you lift yourself up so wonbin can slide his pants halfway down his thighs.

you two look so pitiful, clothes only half off with forming bruises on your skin. the two of you were breathless only from making out and close to climaxing only from feeling eachother up. you almost forgot you were in the empty parking lot of your job, acting like a reckless horny teenager. if you had half a mind you would’ve gotten dressed and driven home to get ready for your shift tomorrow. but wonbin’s swollen lips called to you, and his dick twitched in your hand without you doing anything. you felt like you were wearing too many clothes and wonbin’s front seat gave you no space.

“should we go to the backseat?” wonbin asked.

you crawled over the center console a little to quickly. you laid down in the backseat, lifting your hips to take off your slacks and panties while wonbin put the driver seat back up. you kicked off your shoes and socks, putting them in the space behind your seat. your button up and bra followed, leaving you completely naked in wonbin’s backseat. 

the situation barely had time to settle before wonbin was naked and following you to the back. 

“how do you want it?” wonbin asked.

“i don’t know what position is best for car sex.” you said.

you forgot to lace your voice with sarcasm, or something sharp to show wonbin you were still mad. the words only came out whiny, putting a smile on wonbin’s face.

“just tell me what you want,” he runs a finger over the mark on your chest. “it’ll be a nice change of pace for you.” he smiles.

“you’re an asshole.” you said.

you roll your eyes before turning around. wonbin moves back, trying to give you the amount of space you need to get into your position. wonbin knew that you would put your ass up and spread your legs far enough where wonbin could slot between them. he helped you, moving your foot to plant on the floor in front of his so you could find more stability.

”spit” wonbin ordered. 

his hand was underneath your mouth, and you gathered the saliva in your mouth to fall into his palm. wonbin’s hand retreated, and you could hear the sound of him spitting and his hand running up and down his dick.

“i haven’t done this in a long time.” wonbin tells you.

wonbin’s wet hand presses on your ass to bring you down slightly. when you hear him moving forward behind you and his tip prods at your entrance, you feel yourself getting lightheaded. the feeling almost makes you forget that you have to atleast try to be a little responsible. 

“me neither. but you have to pull out.” you say.

“okay baby.” wonbin says behind you.

“i’m not your baby,” you almost recant your statement when wonbin pushes inside of you. “oh my god.” you moan.

“holy shit.” wonbin curses.

he’s still inside of you when he bottoms out. your walls waste no time clamping around him, almost like they’re trying to keep him inside of you. it’s blinding, and your body tries to adjust to the feeling of wonbin being inside of you again. you barely get used to the stretch before wonbin pulls out and pushes in again.

“so perfect. fits so perfect.” wonbin says.

you can only nod and whimper in agreement when he pushes in again. wonbin’s other hand presses to the side of your ass, spreading both cheeks. something so simple has you feeling something completely different. your whimpers turn you both into moaning messes as wonbin starts thrusting into your spread cunt. your skin is clammy, and wonbin’s hips start pressing against your ass faster and faster. you had to place a hand on the door in front of you for stability. when you tried pushing your hips back to meet wonbin’s he moaned behind you.

“i got you.” he said absentmindedly.

you reacted by reaching your other hand back, reaching for any part of him. wonbin gave you his hand, and then leaned forward to press his sweaty chest to your back. 

“wonbin.” you cried.

“i know. i know.” he cooed.

wonbin wrapped his hand around your body, bringing his fingers down to your clit. you could feel his breath hot on the shell of your ear, and you could hear the sounds the sounds he stopped trying to contain. you lifted your back up slightly to be completely pressed against wonbin, so closed you could feel his heart thudding against your back. he sucked on your shoulder blades and let go of your hand wedged between your two bodies to place it over the hand on the door.

“are you close?” wonbin whispered into your ear.

“yes. so close.” you said.

wonbin continued his revolutions on your clit, and started rutting his hips into yours. he was close too, and it took everything in him to not lose himself then and there.

“kiss me baby.” wonbin nearly begged.

you didn’t have to be asked twice to turn your head as far as it would go. wonbin caught your lips hurriedly, placing kisses to your jaw and cheek before kissing your lips successfully. he was overstimulating you both, becoming distracted between all the ways you touched. the fogged windows of his car only made everything worse, heat just circling the area between you two. 

you completely froze and no longer kissed wonbin back when you came. it was too hard to focus, each time your walls clamped around wonbin’s dick made you whine out helplessly. you wanted to cry when wonbin pulled away from your body to pull out. your sweat cooling on your ass and back mixed with wonbin’s hot cum. he moaned and pumped his length. he finally letting himself quickly rub at your clit to match the pace of his hand on himself. he kept going, long after the ropes stopped, trying to prolong the feeling of you both experiencing your highs together. 

wonbin didn’t pull his hands away until your legs shook and a weak hand pushed his away. your ass went lower and lower and you said nothing while you caught your breath. 

wonbin went to the center console of his car, opening it up to pull out napkins from his various takeout orders. he was delicate wiping himself from your back despite wishing he could keep it there forever. you murmured a tired thank you, still in your resting position. wonbin let himself slump into the seat after he cleaned you up, still trying to catch his breath as he pulled up his underwear. he looked at his foggy windows, then to you. wonbin let himself run his hands down the line of your back before affectionately tapping your butt.

“are you alright?” wonbin asked.

your moved from your spot, back on the seat to get more comfortable. wonbin could see sleep pull at your eyelids as you slowly nodded.

“tired.” you said simply. 

wonbin nodded knowingly, moving your body so your head rested on his lap. it wasn’t long before your eyes closed all the way, muttering something about giving you ten minutes.

“go ahead.” wonbin ran his hands over creases of your face soothingly. “you got time.” he said

[crosbyism]

"but then again this is the guy who’s publically known for loving to eat ass so"

I'm sorry, I thought Nate eating ass was fanon. Are you telling me this is an actual canon fact??

god i love when people don’t realise how much “fanon” around sid and nate is actually canon. it’s like heroin to me. also bc it’s like. 90% of the stuff in fics (which is probably why people assume it’s fanon but. oh boy it’s not. there’s shockingly little fanon around these two, mostly because canon is so abundant).

yes, nathan mackinnon is a known ass-eater. let me direct you to this post, anon. you’re welcome.

other nate (and sid) facts you might not have realised are canon:

nate is a known advocate for therapy. he’s been seeing a sports therapist since 2017

they wear matching clothing all the fucking time, sid has said publicly that he started wearing white sneakers and updated his wardrobe due to nate’s influence (iirc nate might’ve even bought him his first pair of white sneakers? either that or it was a “he told me i need to so i did” situation). they share a tailor. unfortunately i now have to bring your attention to the fact that since they have an alarming amount of matching clothes that they’ve bought for each other, that means that they in fact have to know each other’s clothing sizes off by heart. they also low-key share clothing btw

their families celebrate canada day together and their dads are best friends. in-law behaviour goes crazy

nate did in fact stalk his way into sid’s heart (got the same personal trainer and agent at age 13; built his house next door in 2017; they’ve been spending every day in the summers together since at least 2015. sid cooks for them daily, or at least did pre-pandemic. sid refuses to use nate’s gym tho so they always use sid’s).

nate used to have a fan twitter account more or less where he rooted for the pens. it was active until 2017.

sid and nate regularly go to summer weddings together as each other’s dates. they have done this since, once again, at least 2015

nate has confirmed that he used to have a poster of sid on his wall as a teenager (he didn’t confirm he used to jerk off to it but frankly. i think that’d be saying the quiet part out loud)

when sid won the cup in 2009 and held the parade in cole harbour, nate stood by the side of the road watching it. he was about to turn 14, he was already working with sid’s trainer and agent, and he was about to start attending shattuck (sid’s junior high). due to old pics we also know that this was RIGHT before nate had his first growth spurt and hit puberty. i’m not saying seeing sid with the cup kickstarted nate’s puberty and gave him his first boner but i’m not NOT saying it

nate dated vanessa morgan of riverdale fame in his rookie year. she’s now good friends with elias petersson from the vancouver canucks (this means nothing but i do think it’s a very funny coincidence).

nate schmidt, formerly of the VGK, once failed a drug test (it turned out to be a testing-fuck-up); when nhl players were asked about it natemack iconically said “i don’t think he was sticking a needle up his ass” (i just like this one)

when he was a kid, the one other thing sid wanted to be was a hairdresser. nate, on the other hand, “didn’t have a plan B”

nate is canonically possessive of sid (see: the asg 2024) and sid is canonically delighted by this and into it

they go on so many lunch dates in the summer my dude. they go grocery shopping together. like there’s so many pics of them in grocery stores or out having coffee or weird green shakes

oh i almost forgot, they went on a roadtrip through ireland last year. they’ve been on holiday together multiple times over the years though. done some eurotripping together and stuff. in 2015 they spent three months together, three weeks of which were spent living in sid’s santa monica condo together just the two of them

sid has put up a picture of every stanley cup winning captain in his basement since 2008, when the pens lost in the scf to DET. apparently this serves as motivation for him to win the cup. he notoriously does not watch the playoffs after the pens are out

however, he partied so hard at nate’s cup party he actually closed down the party with his dad. nate is the only non-teammate sid’s ever been seen supporting for a cup run (he’s also never been to his teammates’ cup parties afaik so. there’s that)

also they talked on the phone daily and between periods during nate’s cup run. they also canonically have almost weekly phone dates that can run multiple hours. quote nate “i can’t talk to anyone else the way i can talk to him”

they each have pictures of the two of them together framed in each other’s houses

there’s rumours they’re building adjoining houses on neighbouring properties in cape breton next to a golf course bc apparently being neighbours in halifax isn’t enough or something. this one is as yet unconfirmed by reputable sources though

[theminecraftbee]

the summer before THE END...

(this fic contains @hotguycomiczine spoilers! go read it first! i'll wait!)

It’s midday. The sun is heavy and hot, bearing down against the asphalt and visibly making the air shimmer over the road. Summer in Hermitopia can be miserable, and frankly Cuteguy thinks it’s far more miserable than the bruises. The humidity makes his feathers stick together and itch in awkward ways, he’s sweaty twice over because he hadn’t had time to actually wash his costume between the last major villain attack, his recent part-time line cook job, and then this fight.

He’s in his early thirties and he’s becoming an old man, he thinks. His knees should not hurt this much, and yet here they are. Vigilantism is going to give him early arthritis.

They’ve driven off the villain. Didn’t manage to catch him, though. He wasn’t even from Hermitopia. That’s been happening more lately; people who see Hermitopia as some lawless wasteland where they can come visit, avoid drinking any water, and live out their dreams of being a comic book character, damn the consequences or collateral damage. It’s frustrating. Sometimes, deep in Cuteguy’s soul, he sort of thinks the Soup Group has a point in calling out all this bullshit.

Of course, they do all that murder about it. So. Not much better, really.

He leans against a building and tries to breathe. Normally he has a water bottle with his costume, but this guy had homemade napalm. Luckily, not real napalm! The water did work for putting out the fire! Unfortunately, it’s ninety-seven degrees and humid and Cuteguy has just done enough cardio that he’s honestly worried about the odds he passes out. 

Out on the street, Hotguy is chatting with every civilian he comes across. He’s grandstanding. He’s giving blow-by-blows. He’s acting like his sweat doesn’t stink like a mere mortal’s. He has a water bottle, and he’s taking sips of it between chats with reporters and posing for cameras. There are enough cars and civilians that Cuteguy isn’t all that worried about the TCG yet. Hotguy’s still pretty damn wanted, what with the whole possession thing that they don’t exactly have the means to prove to the public, so Cuteguy’s got to keep an eye out for them, but with this many cameras on him? The TCG isn’t about to arrest him on camera. Despite everything, he's still too charismatic; he'd still make them look too bad. 

Cuteguy wipes his forehead again. He does notice when someone starts approaching him; he might be exhausted, but he’s acting as Hotguy’s situational awareness while he’s busy playing up crowds. He can’t afford to be that exhausted, so he isn’t. That, and the woman approaching him is hardly as stealthy as the Bleeding Hart. Another thing he might have to give to the Soup Group were he willing to give them credit for anything: he’s never been able to fully stop noticing where everyone is around him. Hotguy had winced and called it “hypervigilance”. Cuteguy had said that he wasn’t any better, he just calls it a superpower. Hotguy had said it is hardly his fault his superpower promotes vigilance. Cuteguy had—

“Uh, good fight. Thanks,” says the woman.

“Oh, uh. You’re welcome,” Cuteguy says.

She’s tall and blonde. Also, she has four arms. Cuteguy should have probably noticed that first, but he didn’t, and that’s on him.

“Bit of a mess, especially in this weather. Hotter and they’d issue a heat advisory, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Cuteguy says.

He is not good at post-battle smalltalk. That’s why it’s Hotguy’s job. He’s good at causing chaos if needed, but chaos is the opening the TCG would need to get to Hotguy. Cuteguy glances in his direction. He’s posing and signing autographs still. He can’t help but sigh. They’re going to be here all day.

The four-armed lady follows his gaze.

“You know, I’d always wondered why you stick to him,” she says.

“Sorry?” Cuteguy says.

“I just mean—I watched the fight. Yeah, he’s good, but you’re decent at range too. You can get enough height to really not need perfect accuracy because you’ll be hard to hit. Wings are, uh, a pretty overpowered combat tool, really, especially when most of your enemies are on the ground. But you’re good at close range, so, uh, inside isn’t awful for you either, really.”

“I mean, you’re right, I am pretty good,” Cuteguy says, interrupting her. “I don’t really get—”

“Look at him,” the woman says. “You ran around more than him and he took the water bottle.”

Cuteguy wants to defend Hotguy for that one; it’s hardly his fault that Cuteguy dumped his water bottle on napalm like it would do anything. It did, which is convenient, but still. Not Hotguy’s call. He doesn’t quite get the chance.

“Even after everything last month, he’s still grandstanding too. Sure, he’s stopped shooting people for not being grateful enough, or holding rescues hostage for cash, but look at him. Hardly any better, is he. Sure, he says he was possessed—”

“He was,” Cuteguy snaps.

“—but like, is the guy he is now actually all that different? Just saying.”

Cuteguy stares at the man trying to get extra photo ops out of a group of passing runners. They’re topless to account for the heat, which is probably why Hotguy wants photos with them. Cuteguy can just barely hear the man asking to trade phone numbers. Is it worse or better, Cuteguy wonders, that the phone number Hotguy gives out just goes straight to Cub’s inbox? Is that catfishing or just good sense?

“He’s trying to help,” Cuteguy says.

“He’s desperate for attention,” the four-armed woman says. “You know, you’d probably be better without him. After everything that happened, your reputation would be better too. A little more in the shadows, a little less associated with his crimes.”

“He’s…”

“I just want the real reason, really,” the woman says. 

“What do you…”

“Why would you stick with him when you’re so much better?”

Hotguy waves goodbye to the runners. He takes another sip of the water bottle. Really, there’s so much that Cuteguy can say here, watching that. He could say something about how, in the terrible days when the Soup Group had first come onto the scene, Hotguy had barely left Cuteguy’s side until Cuteguy started pushing him away. He could say that Hotguy is earnest, that he really does want to save people, despite the fact he also wants attention. He could say that he knows the man behind the mask now, and he’s seen his films, and frankly getting a little recognition as Hotguy kind of makes up for not getting recognition for his decent acting talent. He could say something about playing Mario Kart on the couch, or learning to aim a bow, or fights with Doc, or secrets shared that Cuteguy wants to make sure Hotguy never has an incentive to spread. He could say something about how dangerous fighting alone is. That’s probably the more sensible thing to say, actually; Cuteguy knows exactly how dangerous fighting alone is.

What Cuteguy says is this:

“He makes me happy.”

There is a long not-quite silence as sirens and cicadas fill the summer air.

“Huh,” the woman says.

Cuteguy doesn’t say anything else.

“Well. I mean. I don’t really know how to save you from that, so I guess I’ll just leave you to it,” the woman says. “Consider if he’s really worth it.”

She leaves. Cuteguy stares after her a moment before shaking his head and going back to scanning the crowd for any known TCG elements.

“Birdie!” Hotguy crows, running over from the reporters. “We’re on the 5 PM news!”

“Really? An out-of-towner with questionable pyrotechnics made it?” 

“I got it worked out,” Hotguy says confidently. “But, uh, with that said, you look like you need some AC and a drink. I have so much Gatorade in my fridge that it isn’t even funny. All the labels are pulled off because it’s for that one football movie I did, right? And for some reason they didn’t want to give Gatorade the product placement, so they made all these sports drinks without—”

“Not in-costume, Hotguy,” Cuteguy says, but he doesn’t put any heat into it.

“—oh, you know no one’s listening, lighten up! Anyway, so the movie ended up somehow ordering far too many bottles, and you know what they say about underpaid actors and free food—or, I’m not sure it’s actually an expression, but let me tell you, I have never turned it down. And with the number of ele… electo-mites? I think? You know, all the sweat we’re sweaty about—come on Cuteguy, I don’t want you passing out on the pavement, I really didn’t mean to get caught out that long!” Hotguy says, grabbing Cuteguy’s hand to take him back to his apartment.

Miserable heat or not, Cuteguy can’t help but smile slightly.

“I don’t want to pass out either, that’s why I’m not running, Hotguy,” he says, and he lets himself be tugged along in that man’s wake once more.

[unholyhelbig]

Romanov smut??

[This is 18+, if you are a minor DO NOT INTERACT, I will report you.]

Title: Spin Cyle

Ship: Female!Reader x Natasha Romanov/Romanoff

Warnings: Top!Natasha, Dom!Nat, Definate Mommy kink, semi-public sex, swearing, fingering (R recieving), derogatory names, pet names, Dom/sub dynamic, finger sucking, slight bimbofication if you squint [lmk if I'm missing anything], horrible grammar.

Summary: Reader is working the overnight shift at the laundromat when a mysterious stranger comes in with motives that are clear from the start.

[A/n: And so what if I have thing for laundromats? They're comforting, okay? I like writing fluff but sometimes you just really have to get in there. ]

Main Masterlist | Read my stuff on AO3 | Leave Requests

Spic & Span was one of the only laundromats left in a city that swarmed around a university, so it was always teeming with people. Between classes, students with headphones on and powder laundry soap would occupy the tables that pockmarked the large space.

No washer nor dryer were the same; some were a beautiful turquoise, with rusted patches on the front. Others were a sickly olive green that had once been coveted among housewives. They all seemed to function perfectly despite their age; but it was your job to make sure they did just that.

The usual shift you worked was 8:00pm to 8:00am, and aside from the stray kid here or there, it was mostly a silent endeavor. Since starting six months ago you had torn through at least fifteen novels, and when you grew bored of that, you moved onto movies that would hold your attention until the small bell above the door sounded.

You’d learned quickly that when people were doing their laundry, they were looking for peace. It was a tedious chore and the last thing they needed was someone breathing down their neck. Sometimes, there was the occasional person who was looking to chat, which you obliged to eagerly in order to break the silence.

It had been a clear, but cold, evening when she first came in. With none of the machines in use, the only mechanical buzz came from the vending machine in the corner that offered up stale snack-cakes and off brand soda.

Out of habit, when the bell sounded, you leaned back in the office chair and peaked around the doorframe into the main space. You were designated to the small room that had a desk, and place to sit, but was mainly a storage closet. The mini-fridge was sidled up next to a mop bucket that smelled so thickly of musk, no one tended to use either.

The woman didn’t look familiar to you. Over time you had gotten to know the regulars, and you were certain that you would remember her. Even under the harsh overhead lights, you clocked her beautiful complexion, her focused green eyes as she dug in her pockets for change. Her hair was an electrifying red, lips pursed together in frustration.

She didn’t’ have a laundry basket with her, nor her own soap. It seemed as if she were entirely unprepared to do any type of wash, and that made your fingers twitch nervously. You watched, cheeks heating up, as she stripped her shirt off and loaded it into the machine.

Goosebumps rose on her perfect skin, yet, she didn’t’ seem to mind; and holy shit, she was sporting a tight pack of abs. She shimmied her pants off and you forced yourself to look away. This was wrong. Admiring a gorgeous figure was one thing, but you refused to let your eyes linger.

Instead, you went back to your book, reading the same paragraph over and over again. None of the words were sticking. All you could think about was the curve of the woman’s mouth, how good it would feel to have it kiss every inch of your body, leaving little bruises in her wake. You were hopeless.

“Excuse me?”

The book flew from your hands, crashing onto the linoleum as you placed both feet firmly on the floor. She had been quiet in her endeavor to find you, to find anyone. It was nearly unnerving how she had wandered over undetected.

She was clad in a black lace bra and a pair of sweatpants that hugged her tightly and left little to the imagination. The amount of skin she was showing didn’t seem to bother her as much as it had flustered you.

“I think the soap dispenser ate my quarters.”

“Yeah, yes, uh” You shot to your feet at a dizzying speed “it does that. I have… key.”

She lifted both of her eyebrows at you, and you swore that you saw her smirk. You scooted past her, and she made no attempt to move. You could feel her body heat, your front pressing against hers. You did your best to mentally scold yourself for the reaction your body had to the proximity of hers. She smelled like vanilla, like something more biting that you couldn’t place your finger on. The stranger tracked your every movement.

“Just you tonight?” She asked, voice lilted.

You hummed nervously in response before heading over the small manual vending machine that would dispense little packets of soap if you had chosen to use it on the right day. She followed closely behind you, and you felt her heated stare as you unlocked the case.

“Pick your poison.”

“Mm, what do you recommend?”

“Um,” You turned, her eyes were glinting mischievously, arms crossed over her chest. It  was almost painful keeping yourself modest in this situation. You refused to let them wander, but squeezed your thighs together to dispel the thoughts. “Tide.”

“You’re a shy little thing, aren’t you?”

The woman reached forward and grabbed the suggested package. She didn’t’ wait for your response. Instead, she sauntered back over to her machine.

Your mouth was suddenly incredibly dry, and it was hard to lock the soap back up without fumbling. You’d dropped the keys twice before picking them up and succeeding in your task. Building up the confidence, you turned to ask if the woman needed anything else, but were once again, stilled in your movements.

She shimmied out of her sweatpants in a painstakingly slow manner. It was deliberate, you were sure, and if you weren’t than the salacious eye contact she made with you while straightening up and throwing her sweatpants in with the rest of her load confirmed it.

She was wearing the slightest bit of fabric in a black lace that matched her bra. Your eyes betrayed you, scouring her head to toe for any imperfection, but you found none. She was utterly perfect.

This had to be some type of test. There were hidden cameras somewhere and your overnight job that paid you a measly 7.50 an hour was trying to test your morals. This was the devil, and she was in lingerie, lilting her head at you expectantly.

“Damn it all,” She cooed, frowning down at the machine “It seems I don’t know how to work this thing at all. Every machine is different, you know? I might need a little help.”

Fuck.

You must not have moved because a few moments later she let out a breathy chuckle. “That is your job, isn’t it?”

“Certainly.”

She smelled like spiced coffee, something you caught a whiff of because she didn’t attempt to step back when you joined her. There was an immense body heat radiating from her, and you fought back a whimper when her hand touched the base of your spine. She was peering over your shoulder. She simply hadn’t pressed start- but you weren’t going to tell her that.

Instead, you savored the sparingly tantalizing touch and hit the button yourself. A low whirring filled the room. It was a sound that you were more than familiar with. The cycles of the washing machine were counted as easily as your own breaths.

“Dense, aren’t you?”

“hmm?”

You felt your cheeks redden as you turned to face her. Your back was flush against the machine, replacing her hand on your spine. You instantly missed her touch. She was so close to you now, but still took another step closer as if you could climb into the washer to avoid her.

“Sweet girl, I’ve thrown every hint at you in the book.” Her fingers came up to the collar of your shirt, dancing at its hem, right past the fabric until they left blazing trails on your collarbone. You clenched your eyes shut, letting out a shuttered exhale. “While I do love a woman with manners, must I ask?”

“I’m not sure I… understand.”

She whispered against your lips, not quite touching “You’re much too tightly wound, darling. Do you want mommy to take care of you?”

No one has ever asked you this before. Most of your partners, while satisfying, wouldn’t dare murmur anything close to what this stranger had just said. And you were much too shy to ask. Instead, you settled for spicy romance novels, and a magic wand that never seemed to itch that insatiable scratch.

“Don’t be so shy now. I saw the novel you were reading earlier. It’s just such a coincidence that it’s just the two of us here.”

Your forehead was pressed against hers and you stared into intense fern-colored eyes. God, you wanted her to take you right here, right now. There was something much too scandalous about fucking in the open, a feeling that you wanted to capture and savor.

“All you have to do is ask.”

You swore there was a slight Russian lilt to her voice. The more she got worked up, the more in was shining through. Her breath was quickening in pace with yours, the proximity of her making you press your thighs together to quell the excitement that threatened to drip through the fabric of your pants.

“Please,”

Her hand came up and gripped your chin in a fluid movement, manicured fingers squeezing with just the right amount of pressure. “Please what, Kotenok? What do you need from mommy?”

“Touch me,” It came out as a whimper that was much too desperate for you liking, “I need to feel you.”

An animalistic growl rumbled in her throat before she pushed her mouth against yours in a bruising kiss. You parted your lips, groans muffled by her tongue swirling around your mouth. She tasted like coffee, the same you had smelled earlier.

She reached down and ripped your shirt open, the pearlescent buttons popping away and scattering under the many machines around you both. You didn’t have much time to protest the destruction of your shirt before she palmed your breasts.

There was a mischievous look in her eyes at the front latching bra you wore. “Wow, you really are a little desperate slut, aren’t you?”

She unhooked and discarded the garment before you could get out more than a hungry noise. Her lips attached to one of your nipples, her hand grasping the other breast and giving it an almost-painful squeeze. You arched your back, pushing more of yourself into her hot mouth. Her tongue licked away the goosebumps raising against your skin in response to her ministrations.

You would have done just about anything for her at this moment, her fingers delicately ghosting over your stomach at the waistline of your jeans. Each shuttered breath pushed you closer to her.

In a swift movement she lifted you onto the top of the washing machine. You weren’t prepared for the bout of strength, nor the spin cycle that was happening below you. Another whimper escaped you and she looked at you with a wolfish smile.

“Oh, sweetie, don’t you dare think about cuming on top of an appliance.” She squeezed your hip and you took the cue to lift yourself enough for her to pull your jeans down and discard them with your panties. “Though, it appears your wet enough at the idea.”

A downright beautiful woman had you sweating and naked on top of a washing machine, promising to take care of your every need, no matter how salacious it was. Of course you were wet, dripping, actually.

Still, you flushed when she worked a single finger up your slit, testing it for herself. You shivered at the simple gesture, falling close to her. You felt her chuckle at your expense. “Mm, Kotenok, so desperate.”

Her thumb brushed against your cheek, you could smell your own sex on her fingers. She’d barely touched you, yet they were soaked. They traced your lips and you parted them on the silent command. There was a satisfied look on her eyes, at how easily you had folded for her.

You sucked her fingers, never breaking eye contact. Her stare was starving. “God, you’d look amazing choking on my strap, darling. I’m sure it’d stretch you out nicely.”

You groaned against her fingers, something that sounded along the lines of ‘fuck’ escaped you. Her other hand dipped lower, a gentle touch brushing against your clit. Your breath hitched, and you fell forward, you head on her shoulder.

“Do you want me to fuck you?”

“Yes,” you garbled, careful not to bite down on her fingers, but thankful that they muffled your expletives. “I want to cum.”

“Mm, but darling, you have to let mommy have her way with you, no matter how long it takes. That’s what good little whores do. That’s what toys do.”  

God, you’d do exactly that, anything to sate the need that made you want to buck desperately against the machine under you. It’s vibrations were slowing, but that didn’t stop your crude wanting to climax.

Without warning, the woman inserted a single digit into you. A gasp sounded around her fingers. She curled her touch inside of you and you pressed further into her. A fine sheen of sweat coated you both, the laundromat hot during the late summer night.

“You’re so tight.” She chuckled again, “Are you sure you can handle another?”

“Yes,”

“Yes what, pet?”

“Yes… Mommy.”

She was conditioning you with her words, and that much was clear, but you didn’t seem to care. This stranger had sauntered into your place of work and now had you under her full command with a few simple touches and an effective edging technique.

Another finger pushed into you, and you started to push down further into her. You weren’t sure what she saw in you that made her approach you like this. It had to be more than the novel, plenty of people indulged in smut. Maybe it was the desperation- your need to please in the most mundane of situations.

“Good girl,” she growled against the small of your neck, finally pulling her fingers from your swollen lips. You missed their taste, their feel against your tongue. “I’m sure you can handle a third, you desperate little slut.”

“I can,” You stuttered, tightening around her as she did just as promised. She flexed them inside you, drawing a whorish moan from the back of your throat. The woman started to pump slowly, at first, in and out of you until you felt something build in your core.

You hugged her close, the scratchy fabric of her bra pressing against your nipples, drawing them to points with their expert pressure. The sensation was phenomenal, something you never wanted to end. You hugged her close, your nails digging into the warm expanse of her back.

“Ask nicely, sweet girl.” She growled in your ear.

“Can I please cum?” You clenched your eyes shut, she quickened her pace, the word came out broken, but you didn’t care if you sounded like you were pleading, you absolutely were. “please. I’ll do anything.”

You could feel her smile against your shoulder “Go on, slut. Cum all over Mommy’s fingers.”

Her declaration was all you needed to finally give in to her attentive movements. The feeling that was building so deliciously in your core finally released in the most mind-boggling orgasm you had ever had. You silenced your own scream in her shoulder, but it could only do so much. You were thankful it was just the two of you in here, or your shame may have overtaken you.

She continued to pump in and out of you with her fingers, flexing and curling them expertly as you rode out your climax. You were shaking against her, nearly crying into the small of her neck when she pulled out of you entirely, wiping the slick on her fingers against your thighs.

Perhaps too kindly, she let you breathe against her for a moment, catching your bearings, her hand dragging against your bare back with a comforting amount of pressure. She was proud of herself, that much was clear in her movements. She knew in that moment that she was the best you had ever had; quite possibly the one person who you’d compare all the rest to.

The washer let out an unceremonious beep that had you chuckling, finally pulling back enough to see the woman’s face, shocked to see a bit of admiration behind her eyes. She lifted a perfectly sculpted brow at you.

“Hm,” she hummed, giving you a dazzlingly genuine smile. “I guess the spin cycle is over.”

[misstycloud]

Bear hybrid

Synopsis: you were on your way to work, when suddenly a bear-hybrid sees you. The look in his eyes says everything you need to know. Not wanting to spend the rest of your life as someone’s possession, you bolt. Too bad he won’t let you get away a second time.

——

Ugh, another long day ahead of me.

You thought tiredly. The long shifts at the diner you worked at really took its toll on you. If you could, you’d quit. But free time wasn’t worth getting starved.

You sighed and stared down at the gum stuck on a trash can. There was a hint of pale pink on it, signaling the colour it was.

Gum sticking to practically every surface in the subway station wasn’t the only defects. There were plastic cups, cigarettes, paper towels and a lot more unidentified items scattered freely.

Frankly, it was disgusting. If the government spent less on hybrid establishment improvement and more on the condition of public spaces, the maybe it wouldn’t look like shit everywhere.

You felt like a shitty person for thinking such things, hybrids have endured thousands of things in the past and now with modern development, they can finally lead satisfactory lives.

However, the government have begun to focus all their attention to the welfare of hybrids and neglecting humans in the process. It wasn’t their fault, you knew that. Still, one couldn’t help what they felt.

It’s not like you disliked hybrids, yet you did not love them either. You were neutral in that department. There were still humans with the old views, but they weren’t as many anymore or they simply didn’t run around telling people since it wouldn’t be very well received. The biggest problem and maybe the only problem you had with hybrids were their mating culture.

Clearly, no one in the relationship had a choice(not that they complained) and suddenly you’re supposed to be together until you die.

And now that they’re allowed to mate with humans legally, there is little that can stop them from forcing their human partner from submitting to their will; living and accept them as a lifelong partner.

It was wrong to force someone into a relationship they clearly express they didn’t want, unfortunately the animal-hybrids did not care for unwanted courting and do what they want anyway.

You shuddered at the thought of being mates to one of those creatures. It must be hell. Especially if you already have a partner previous to meeting them.

The train arrived and you made an annoyed face at how crowded it was. What felt like hundreds of people were squeezed into one cart, rubbing against each other and breathing as one being, making it incredibly warm inside.

You grabbed a pole with your right hand, trying to steady yourself and also liking to have something solid ground you. You’ve seen way to many consequences of people not holding on to anything while standing.

It was uncomfortable. Arms and elbows poked you from all sides, and two teenagers were talking way beyond the proper volume in such a cramped space. You couldn’t wait to get off.

Suddenly, commotion stole your attention elsewhere. Sounds of irritated folk earned everyone’s stares. You heard men and women alike, complaining about movement and pushing.

“Hey, stop pushing me!”

“Don’t look at me, it’s someone else!”

“Alright, who is then?”

Angry remarks were thrown. Not that you could blame them. The uncomfortable ride paired with lack of oxygen were not suited for enjoyable time.

An apologetic voice exclaimed, “Sorry! I need to get through, it’s important. Sorry, didn’t mean to step on your toes!”

Eyes widening and mouth nearly falling wide open, you turn to see the biggest man you’ve ever seen! His form was easily towering above all others, making you think that he was part of the reason why the train cart was so crowded.

The ginormous man had dark brown hair reaching his broad shoulders, the locks were messy and thick, slightly falling in front of his eyes.

What stood out the most however wasn’t his unnatural size. It was the pair of two brown, rounded ears atop his head.

It instantly hit you. The inhuman height was because he wasn’t human at all. He was a hybrid. A bear one at that! One of the most dangerous hybrids there is. While they might not attack unless provoked or caught off guard, meeting one is definitely something most would avoid.

Your heart nearly beat out of your chest when the bear-man’s eyes connected with yours. They were an odd amber colour, you noticed.

Fuck! You shouldn’t have looked his way.

And like the dumbass wannabe-dead, something in your brain forces your gaze back up and you freeze. The look on his face when he sees you. The look. It was the look.

Oh no. Oh no no no no no.

This could not be happening. It was obvious what was happening. You’d heard about it. On TV. From friends. Seen it in real life. There was no way you could be someone’s mate. Not when you’d spent so many nights praying it wasn’t your fate, since you didn’t want to end up like those humans you’ve heard about.

Well now you knew why he was causing a disturbance on the train. It was to get to you. A hybrid can easily smell its mate hundreds of meters away. He must have smelt you the second you got on that train and gone searching for you.

A squeak escaped your lips as you saw him waving at you while attempting to close the distance. Of course it did not go fast because of all the people between you.

No. You refused to be chained down to some animal. You had to get out. And as if someone above heard you, you heard the train voice speak, “Station X.”

That was your station.

The hybrid seemed to have noticed someone was off, he observed your face before glancing at the approaching platform. Then it clicked in his head.

“No, wait!”

Too late. You were already bolting out the doors, listening to angry comments after you. You only had time to rush a hasted ‘sorry’ before making it on the platform. The man did not have the same luck.

“Don’t go! Please! Don’t leave! No. ”

He desperately tried to shove passed all the passengers to get to the doors, but there was no time left and the doors closed shut before he managed to reach within one meter of them. The wheels of the train were rolling the connected vehicles away.

You had no interest to stay and watch, though. You still had a job to go to and you couldn’t afford to be late, or else your boss would scold you fiercely again.

Half running and half jogging, you hurried to the diner while in deep thought. Had you lost him? Maybe, but probably not forever. As hybrid will stop at nothing to find their mate once they’ve entered their sights. Fuck. My. Life. The next station the train would stop at was a bit away, so perhaps you were lucky this time? If you were careful from now on and don’t go out as much, then you could possibly avoid being found. Also, your work place was somewhat far from the subway.

If you saved up a bit, then you could also by a scent masking spray to hide yourself further. Although it was risky to do that. Because hybrids need a fair chance of finding their mate, masking spray became forbidden after people started using it. So now the only place you can buy it is from shady markets or people who may or may not want to steal your kidneys. Besides all that, it was very costly too.

You dragged a hand through your hair and heaved a deep sigh. What were you going to do?

“Y/N stop daydreamin’ an get back ta work!” Your bosses yelled and slapped you on the back.

Massaging your shoulder you answered, “Sorry boss…”

The diner wasn’t too busy so you had no idea of why he tried to rush you. Sure, there were some customers here and there filling the tables, but you weren’t so understaffed that youd have to srint around like a maniac trying to get everyone’s orders.

Approaching a table with customers, you put on you employe smile, “Hello, what can I get for you today?”

The man looked at the menu an extra time to finalise his decision, “I’ll have the chicken pasta with sundries tomatoes and red wine, can we also order some garlic bread?”

“Yes,” you wrote down the dishes on your small notepad, “and you, ma’am?”

No answer.

“Ma’am?”

But she wasn’t paying any attention to you. It was as if you didn’t even exist, looking passed you like air with wide eyes. Finding this weird you turned back to her husband. Feeling your gaze he chuckled awkwardly.

“Honey? Aren’t you going to order?” She still didn’t respond which forced her husband to see whatever she was focusing so intently on.

It was then you realised they weren’t the only ones acting unusual. In fact, everyone inside the establishment had their eyes turned in the same direction. You swing around to witness the horror.

There, in the resturant entrance stood he. His form creating the illusion of the door being as insignificant as an ant. With heavy breath and droplets of sweat collecting on his forehead, you frantically whirling around until he noticed you.

Dropping your notepad and hand clasping over your mouth, you thought fuck, so I didn’t get rid of him?

Okay, even though it was kinda delusional to believe you could shake him off, you were surpsised he found you so fast. The hybrid wiped his eye and it was then you noted the redness surrounding them, an obvious sign of crying.

He stumbled forward, “There you are, I was so worried I wouldn’t be able to find you!”

Suddenly you were the centre of attention.

“W-what….?” Backing, you feigned ignorance.

“You saw me on the train earlier, I tried to stop you getting off but you took off without warning…” he hung his head in despair.

Yeah, guess why?

“You should leave..”

“Huh? No, I can’t g-“ the hybrid rushed.

“What’s goin’ on ‘ere?” The voice of your boss interrupted. With a deep scowl he paraded into the scene and crossed his arms in a defensive stance as soon as he laid eyes in the bear-man. “W-whatddya you want?” His gruff voice sounded unusually weak. “If there’s any trouble I’ll ‘ave ta call the cops, ya got me?” He said despite appearing like a newborn deer.

A bewildered expression crossed the tall man’s face, “No I’m not here to cause anything! I’m here for someone!” He explained while waving his arms. Unfortunately it had the opposite effect, the humans in the diner cowered lightly at the gesture and he instantly stopped. “Sorry…”

Your boss cleared his throat, “Alright. Who ya ‘ere for?” He’d make that person go with the scary man to make him leave as soon as possible. Not that he’d admit it, but he never liked those hybrid people. They just seemed unreliable it all. Nothing to be trusted. With their animal intincts present and sharp teeth, he couldn’t allow them to be in his resturant. He hadn’t the curious he to blatantly kick them out but he could at least give them what they wanted to make them lose interest as fast as possible.

The bear’s gaze searched yours and your boss put two and two together. “Oi, Y/N, come ‘ere. Someone’s looking for ya!” The man pulled your collar to drag you forward, earning a small frown from the hybrid but it vanished just as quickly.

You refused to look at him, keeping your attention to the floor and praying for him to go away. A rough hand carressed your cheek and you flinched and after hestitation it pulled away.

“Won’t mate look at me..?” A saddened voice said.

A twinge of guilt started brewing in your mind but you pushed it down. “I see this is new to you-being human and all, haha.” He tried to liven up the atmosphere. “Umm…you know what this is, though? Me seeing you and then following you here must be creepy, haha- but it’s not I promise! I just want to love you. Because we’re,” he giggled, “mates!” He happily sighed. “And you know what that is, right? If you don’t it’s fine, I’ll tell you. Being mates is loving someone no matter what, be it looks or personality nothing is important. Mates take care of each other, providing for your mate and making them happy is the best feeling in the world! There doesn’t exist anything that can compare!- not that I know that personally or anything since I haven’t had a mate before but I’ve heard from all my friends who have mates. Oh, I’m so jealous of them whenever I see them together with their mates doing fun things. Though it doesn’t really matter what you’re doing as long as it’s with your ma-“

“Please stop!” You yell, several customers flinch at your tone, not that you cared anymore. Having to listen to his constant talk about being mates had brought you over your boiling point. The man silenced at your exclamation. “Sorry, but I don’t give a shit about all this mate stuff or whatever- it doesn’t mean anything to me so please leave! I’m sorry that this isn’t what you want to hear but I have no interest in being your mate, not now, not ever.” You pointed at the door. “So go.”

The hybrid was stunned and stood quiet, appearing hurt. Then your boss promptly spoke, “Y/N, you showing speak to someone like that! Especially someone who loves you so much!”

“Huh?” What the hell was he going on about? He never cared for hybrids, certainly not their feelings. You’ve heard all those thing he said about them when he thought no one was listening.

“Clark.” The hybrid said and lowered his head.

“What?”

“My name- I apologise. I shouldn’t have barged in here expecting you to be chill about everything, I’m a fool. I’m just a stranger to you. The least I could do is tell you my name.” The apology sounded so sincere.

“No, it’s uh- fine..” you scratched your arm anxiously. Luckily he seems pretty nice and not someone who would just take their mate and go; it’s happened before. Perhaps you’ve got a chance?

“Oh come on Y/N! Give the poor fella a chance!”

You crash into the giant’s chest from the shove.

“He clearly loves you!

What the hell was he going on about?

Strange that the man was encouraging your reunion, you thought.

“Actually, since I’m so nice, why don’ I do ya a favour and let ya go? Someone like ya shouldn’t have to work in a place like this. This’a happy day!” Then he pointed at the beak room, “Get ya stuff and celebrate.”

“Excuse me-wha- let me go? As in I’m fired?” Your brain tried to comprehend what just happened and words fell out in unfinished sentences. Despite yourself, you fixed your eyes at Clark.

“Don’ worry he’ll be ‘ere when ya get back!” The rough man shooed you towards the break room.

Having no choice but to comply, you do as he wishes and abandons the scene, which might’ve been the best thing really, the continued staring of the present customers was starting to make you uncomfortable.

Glaring at your locker like it was the cause of your I’ll mood, you harshly ripped your jacket off the hook and stuffed some scattered items back in your bag. You could not believe it. Fired? You? You have been nothing but a good employee at the diner, even taking all the shit from the boss and not complaining once.

Through the small window in the door, you spot the cause of your troubles thoughts walking by. Angrily you grab his arm and pull him inside the room, a surprised noise leaving him.

“What the hell, why am I being laid off? I haven’t done anything.”

He expressed a long breath. “Sorry, but I can’t ‘ave some brute hangin ‘round here ‘cause of you, customer don’t like it and I won’t sacrifice my business for someone like you. Surely you understand.”

“He won’t hang around the diner, we’re not together! Besides, it not my fault!” You pleaded with him. You needed this job. Without it you’d definitely die in the end.

“Well, we both know he won’t leave so don’ make this any harder than it already is.” He said before leaving to do whatever shit he did instead of being a good manager.

Bullshit. It wasn’t hard at all. In fact, you bet he loved an recuse to get rid of you. He never liked you from the very beginning.

With despair, you left through the back door and as you listened to it close, you did not react to the loud bam of the heavy metal slam. Recalling at how you flinched the first time you went out the back, you clench your fist. How’re you gonna make it now? You doubted you had much savings in the bank.

Making your way to the station, blew passed you that there was still a bear waiting for you so he could properly introduce himself. He was in his own mind so much that he didn’t realise you’d already left until it was too late.

Good that he was born with a great sense of smell. How stupid of him not to consider your perspective in the beginning! Not to worry, he’ll make sure he doesn’t scare you off the next time. His species didn’t have the best reputation so he understood why you acted the way you did; it still hurt though.

The next time he’d just need to show you he wasn’t dangerous at all.

——

Sorry the ending sucked and was rushed. I wasn’t really sure how I wanted to end it so it turned into this.

[skeletonapricationday]

The lab

@yumeno_54_ on insta (art creds)

Warnings: porn w/o plot, aphrodisiac, dumbification-ish kink, pentration (fem receiving), gojo x fem reader, fingering, being watched while masterbating, praising and cooing, public fun, mild mention of overstimulation.

You have a natural knack for chemicals, something surprising for a sorcerer. You collect certain chemicals that curses make and see if you can weaponize them.

Today you're working with a liquid produced from a curse that claims they're "lust."

You're careful with the chemical, afterall you're still unsure of what it does. All you were told is they have one liter of it and the curse is dead. You put the pH tester into the open vile slowly making sure it can't get onto your skin. The liquid mildly vicious.

You're about to pour some onto a microscope slide and- "Hey, I heard you got a new-" and it spills all over you. Running into your pores.

"Shit!" You shout, running over to the sink. Scrubbing your skin harshly, praying the chemical doesn't effect you. "Gojo I swear to GOD!"

"I'm so sorry are you okay?" The white haired man runs over. Checking over your face. You stop the sink water when you feel the chemical can no longer be scrubbed. You're starting to feel dizy and light. "Hey don't pass out on me, what was that?!" He asks worried.

"New chemical. No antidote yet. Don't know what it does." You breath out harshly, mind starting to go numb. Unable to properly think. Gojo quickly grabs you when you stumble. Surprisingly this causes you to moan, gripping onto his jacket. "Feel so fuzzy." You pant, nuzzling your face into Satoru.

"Woah-Hey what are you doing?" He asks a little amused, but still just as worried. You don't respond just pulling yourself closer to him. Did he always smell this good? Was he always this warm? You lean up on your tippy toes, sticking your flushed face into his neck. "From what curse?"

You whine into his neck, feeling the urge to lick his skin. "It said it was lust." You giggle out. "Come closer." You beckon. Looking up into his eyes lustfully.

"Woah woah mama, calm down." He jokes, pushing you by the forehead. You whimper and bite your bottom lip. Shaking your head no at him, like you were rejecting his statement.

"Can't." You answer blankly. Clenching your thighs together not so discretly. "Hot. It's hot." You moan out. Taking off your lab coat, nearly tearing it off. You start to unbutton your blouse when big hands grab yours and stop you.

"Hey, hey its the chemical. You need to sit. I'll get someone." You grip onto his hand, stopping him from leaving. Honestly you were weaker than him, he could leave if he wanted but he doesn't. "Want me to stay?"

You desperately shake your head up and down yes. He uses his grip on you to sit you down, you do so without complaint. "Burning, burning hot." You whine. Ripping your blouse off entirely, the tattered clothes hitting the ground. Leaving you in only a sports bra. You fan your skin with your hand, acting like you're having a heat stroke. "Notepad. Notepad now." You pant towards him. You words rushed and slurred.

He rushes over grabbing it and handing you a pen. You quickly start jotting down your symptoms. 'Accidential test subject-me.' Is the first thing you write. 'Causes delirium. Hard to think.' Gojo nods at the words you write. 'Hot. So hot.' You keep going. 'Touch feels so good.' You hear a small "oh" behind you. You tilt your head and look at him with wet eyes. "What?"

"Look this isn't exactly science based but that sounds similar to the feelings people get on exctasy." You look at him with parted lips, like a light bulb went off in your head.

"Lust. Aphrodisiac." You whine out, thighs clenching harder. You slam your head down into the desk, it's getting harder and harder to think clearly. You want to reach out to Gojo this instant. Put his fingers in your mouth, maybe even his cock. God you would ride right on top of him. The only thing you would hear is the squelching of your cunt and the slaps of skin. "Gotta go. You gotta go." You cry out.

"I thought you wanted me to stay?" You reach out and grab him by the jacket, pulling his blindfolded face to yours with serious eyes.

"Leave." You pant. "Cause I want to fucking ride you." You say honestly, lips curling at the thought. Gojo seems to just stare at you, even without seeing his eyes.

He laughs in disbelief. Taking off his blind fold, his spiked hair falling down into its natural shape. When his blaring blue eyes look at you, you freeze. Holding your breath at the site. "You want to-" He puts a hand on the back of your chair. "Ride me?" He asks with a devious smirk. You stare at him wide eyed.

"Sorry toots, this ride is reserved for those in a clear state of mind." He tsks his tongue with a smile.

You push at his chest. "Just go." You whine, feet stomping like an angry toddler. "I need-i need you to go." You say bringing your own hands to your inner thighs, wanting to start feverishly masterbating right then and there. You wanted to make him watch. You bite your bottom lip and you rub your thighs, eyes rolling back at the simple touch. You let out a small mmpf.

"Wow. I never thought I'd see you come undone so quickly. That stuff is strong." He states watching you. "I'm not going anywhere." He grins.

You groan and locks eyes with him. Finally coming to terms with it you smile. "Fine. Watch." You hiss out, unable to contain yourself any longer. Unbuttoning your work slacks. Pulling them desperately down your thighs. The cold air hits your wet panties earning a whine. Gojo's blue eyes never leave your form. Doing just as you said, watching.

As soon as you can you drill your own fingers into you, you do. Ripping your panties off and stuffing two fingers inside, using your thumb to toy with your own clit. So worked up the room is already filled with the sounds of your sopping wet cunt. "Ah-mmm fuck." You moan, eyes tempted to roll into your skull. Looking up Gojo is still standing over you, eyes focused on your wetness.

"Satoru don't stare so intently- aaa it's emrbassing." You whimper, biting your bottom lip. Hips bucking against your hand. Fingers becoming less satisfying the hotter you get.

"You told me to watch." He grins cockily, leaning back against your desk. His posture relaxed unlike yours. "So I'm going to watch. Show me everything you got, pretty girl." He teases with his famous playboy smirk.

You sob a little, your walls feeling so empty. You attempt to enter a third finger but it doesn't feel any different, leaving you just as void as before. "Fingers don't work." You cry. Small tears pricking your eyes from the sheer desperation in your gut. "Pleeease." You look at Gojo, begging with your eyes.

He knits his brows and sighs. "Only if you promise you aren't going to hit me for it later." He teases, pushing you further into your frustrated edge.

You pull your fingers out with a small hic. Gripping onto Gojo's jacket again, pulling him closer with your shlick covered hand. "I'm literally begging." You say annoyed, a hint of a moan in it.

"Fine. Fine. How could I say no." He says playfully, pulling your slacks the rest of the way down your ankles. "Jeez, what a pretty pussy." He says with a grin, spanking your cunt lightly with his hand. Earning a loud mewl in response.

"Satoru more." You whine, pulling his hand closer and bucking your hips. "More." You say saliciously. Trying to tempt him.

"Hold on gorgeous I'm getting there." He chuckles cockily. Tilting his bueaitful head to the side before slipping in two of his long and thick fingers. "Is that better?" He says with a grin, pumping them at a painfully slow pace.

"Faster." You moan. Pressing his hand further into you. "I want it. Please." You beg, sounds of pleasure falling from your lips. A thin pout forming from his obvious teasing. "Don't tease. Fuck me."

"Commanding as always." He thrusts his fingers faster, thumbing your clit in small circles. "Do you really think that's how you ask for help?" He asks, lips curling into a cruel smirk. You were about to retort it got you what you wanted when he suddenly ceases all motion. "I asked a question." He says harshly, pulling his liquid coated hand away. Bringing it up to his lips and licking it clean. "Go on, answer."

"No no m' sorry, don't stop." You cry out, whimpering as your pussy clenches around the cold air. Mourning the loss of Satoru's hand. You lean forward and nuzzle your face against his hardening length. "Please." You huff. Hot breath grazing against his clothed skin.

"Now that's how you ask for help." He grins, shucking off his jacket. Pulling his belt open and dropping his pants to reveal himself. Tip pink and leaking.

"You want it so bad?" He smiles and licks his lips. "Bend over the desk." He commands and you quickly obey. Nearly tripping over your clothes on the floor to bend over the desk. "It's cute when you act so needy." He grins.

He rubs his tip against you entrance and your clit. Collecting your wetness and smearing his precum against you. "In. Inside." You command, arching your hips up further.

"Do I have to reprimand you again?" He asks, tempted to pull away despite his own arousal.

"No, no, no." You whine, reaching a hand behind you and spreading yourself open. "Please." You say between broken sobs. You don't care if you're stroking his already too big ego, you're after his too big of a cock.

"I just love hearing you beg." With that he thrusts inside, cock entering with ease due to the Niagara falls that is your pussy. He groans at the feeling of you wrapping completely around him "God- you're so tight." He moans, fucking himself in and out of you. There's no friction at all, your walls welcoming him and spasming.

"Yesh- so big n deep." You praise, legs shaking from the pure exctasy. That burning coil of a feeling easing slightly. If you weren't half out of your mind you wouldn't nearly praise him as much.

"I get that alot." He teases and thrusts harder, making the desk you're gripping onto shake. You mewl angrily at his statement. Before you can tell him off he starts playing with your clit. "Don't worry doll, it was just a joke." He laughs and grunts.

"Satoru-Satoru." You say his name repeatedly. Legs aching, back arching, and cunt clenching. Every movement felt brand new. "THAT SPOT-" You yelp loudly as his tip pounds against your g-spot.

"Oohh ho ho" He says with a smug edge. Aiming his thrusts to keep hitting it, abusing the poor pleasure button inside you. "Look what I found." He grunts and grins, grabbing your hips and flipping you over. Looking deep into your eyes as they roll back. "Fuck you're so pretty when you're going dumb."

You nod and moan. Wrapping your arms along his back. "I'm not going dumb- m' just horny." You retort, drool dripping down your jaw. He smiles and pulls you in, kissing you deep as he fucks your gummy walls. His tongue tastes like candy, which makes sense considering his sweets addiction. When he pulls away a string of saliva connects you both.

He chuckles and grins, pressing harder against your g-spot, almost hitting your cervix. "You're sucking me in so desperately though. It's like you don't wanna let me go." He lets out a small groan as you feel your legs try to clamp down around him. He tsks his tongue annoyed, grabbing your thighs and forcing them open. "You begged for this, now keep those legs open."

You nod and try to keep your legs open desperately as you feel your orgasm coming on. "Satoru- 'mma cum I'm going too-" You squeeze your eyes shut tight and feel your thighs tremble with the force of the pleasure. A coiling heat wrapping around you like a snake. "Please- don't stop, no stopping!"

"Then open your eyes and look at me." He groans and grips your jaw, forcing you to look deep into his pale blue gaze. Tears stream down your face, struggling to stay open. "Fucking." Thrust. "Cum." Thrust. "On." Thrust. "Me." And with one more thrust you come undone.

The world shatters around you as you dig your nails into his back. Looking for any kind of leverage as he rocks into you. "That's it bueaitful." He coos as you whine and whimper. "Come undone." He smiles at you. When you're orgasm is done he doesn't stop.

"Wait Satoru I just came!" You whine overestimulated. Wrapping your legs around his waist and digging your heels into his back.

"I think this pretty pussy can squeeze out one more. Don't ya' think?" He asks with a smile as he keeps rocking his hips. "Cause I haven't cum yet."