#the sheer disgust 😭😭😭😭

[vcrnons]

[akkivee]

the reason ichiro’s under the impression people just text their feelings at each other is because that’s how kuukou love mailed him all the time lmao

[chrisevansonly]

DNF For Love

lando norris x reader

summary: you can’t believe your eyes, and lando can’t believe his ears

warnings: none, fluff, lando being lando

a/n: this is chaos and idk what i was doing with this 😭

Every now and then someone tagged you in a link on twitter and every so often your curiosity peaked and you indulged in whatever the fan had tagged you in. Most recently, you’d been loving the fan fiction links being sent your way, especially if they were written about your boyfriend Lando.

“Lan I cannot believe you right now.”

Now that tone of voice had Lando freezing from his spot in the bathroom, cleaning up his facial hair a little before he took off for Bahrain.

“Um…i’m sorry?”

“I just I can’t even look at you!”

Lando was quick to rinse his face off before walking over towards you and sitting in front of you. His eyes a little bit worried as he stared at you.

“What? I took the trash out, i cleaned up my facial hair out of the sink…there’s no socks on the floor!”

It was only a few seconds later that you sighed dramatically

“Well in this little story here apparently you dnf’d a race for the reader…you never do that for me!”

Lando looked at you like you grew four heads, his jaw dropping open as it clicked to him that once again you were reading fan fiction about him.

“Oh jesus christ-woman give me that!”

Finally letting yourself laugh you passed your phone to him and watched as his eyes scanned the writing, before he shook his head.

“Yeah because i’m giving up leading a race to dnf because my so called “girlfriend” is missing, mhm yeah because that makes sense”

“You wouldn’t even dnf for me?!”

Your laughter never ceased as he looked at you with almost a disgust, the idea not even fathomable for him, and even you knew it was so stupid.

“Baby, I love you, but I wouldn’t even dnf for my nan…and I love my nan a lot..”

You nodded shrugging as he passed your phone back, shutting it off you sat forward to kiss his forehead, easing the wrinkles that remained from his sheer distaste for what he just read.

“You heard it here folks, Lando Norris wouldn’t even dnf for love!”

“Okay that’s it”

There wasn’t much room to say anything because Lando had you pinned underneath him against the mattress as you laughed once again, a smirk on his face as he stared down at you.

“Here’s a deal, if i’m ever dead last in a shit car, i’ll dnf for you”

“So never?”

“Exactly”

Watching you carefully you shrugged

“I’ll take what I can get”

Happy with your response he leaned down to connect your lips together, the fanfic long gone out of your minds as you held one another tightly, Lando’s kisses always working to have you melt into a puddle. When you both pulled away you smiled admiring his face a little more than usual knowing you’d be without one another for a week until you went out to meet him at the first grand prix.

Lando’s new rule, no fan fiction at the track.

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Genuinely so obsessed with the ask you answered about reader being associated with König’s childhood bullies and coming back years later to try and make amends……. I need the angst, the drama, the nasty disgusting degrading sex, the absolute turmoil on both of their parts 😭 I am starving for this, the way you portray König especially there is exactly how I’ve always envisioned him in my mind!!!!!! And then with reader desperately trying to make him happy now out of guilt and her crush that’s grown 10x since she saw him in school, delusionally hoping and believing there’s a *relationship* between them and she can fix what she thinks she allowed to happen back then 10 years after the fact, while König is constantly fighting himself to not fall for reader despite his own buried crush resurfacing, and convincing himself he’s only using her to release stress and tension after assignment while simultaneously holding so much resentment for her and her sheer proximity to the people that tormented him back then, I am foaming at the mouth for the toxic dynamics to be found there !!!!!!!!! The old him begging to fulfill some childish need to have her, while this new monstrous version of himself only wants to watch her suffer to repent for how he had to suffer !!!!!!!!!!!!

I know right?! I’m obsessed with this too!

I’m so here for the toxic relationship dynamic (sue me), also me and @bucca2/@wordstome had a whole conversation about this yesterday because König would bend over backwards to self sabotage this shit.

(The following is mainly a summary from our brainstorm session from last night + I have bucca to thank for the precious meme at the end, it’s König in a nutshell with his high school crush lol)

First of all our girl is sooo in love. She was in love when they were young, but now? She’s a goner, König is out of this world. He's so handsome, so confident, the epitome of cool if there ever was one... and God, would you look at those muscles?

Now she can finally drool all over him but back then, what was she to do? As the shy one of the clique, she always tried to avoid attention; she could never have endured what König did. Perhaps it was cowardly of her, but she really was just scared. She could only dream about him from afar, and in her dreams, they would both change schools due to their parents moving or something... Ending up in the same area, finally getting to be together like it was a miracle, Deus ex Machina.

Her silly dreams never came true, but it looks like they're coming to fruition now. And this time, she's going to make everything better! Now that they're both grown up and free from their tormentors she can finally admit that she has feelings for him, feelings that are only sparked fast aflame when she sees the man he has become.

And König can’t stand it.

Where was she when he was odd and scrawny? Where was she when he cried himself to sleep over her?? Of course she wants him now that he’s big, independent and menacing, an odd nerd who discovered guns and gym... He thought she was better than this.

Deep inside, he’s still like this:

...but we just need to forget about it because König is NOT going to fold for this girl.

He’s not.

And the sex is so NASTY. Bordering on degrading, König wants to be a gentleman when it comes to ladies, but this one? This one he wants to fuck like he paid for her. She brings out the beast in him, and he finds himself asking her to get on her knees and blow his cock on some filthy cruise... Fucks her like he doesn’t love her, and she’s absolutely lovestruck, when did König become so mean? (God, that she loves him)

Trying not to fall in love with her (as if he ever fell out), König is so incredibly mad at this girl – is this what she wanted this whole time? A buff jerk who fucks her doggystyle until her knees bleed, who gives her the bare minimum, who barely even calls her when he’s away? (He has to physically restrain himself from doing that because of course he’d like to hear her pick up the phone with pure hope in her voice)

While changing his tactics and devising a plot to make her pay, König doesn’t even understand that he’s falling fast for her again while becoming now (seemingly) the best version of himself. It's only to dump her later, of course. He's just being nice so that she'll cry over losing him later. He brings her flowers, eats her out for hours, getting sick satisfaction from the way she cries about how it’s the best sex she’s ever had. He’s going to bring her to her knees, in more ways than just one... She’s going to remember him for the rest of his life when he rearranges her guts, ruining her for any other man.

König is becoming the thing he hates the most while she’s learned her lesson, now wearing her heart on her sleeve. No more shame and secrets, she’s not afraid to tell him how she feels! How she always had a small crush on him… And not even that small… How she loved to hear his presentations, no matter what silly subject they were about because he had actually done his research. How she could’ve swooned when his voice changed. After a short breaking period, he started to talk lower than anyone else in the class, earning himself more of that bullying because he sounded so manly at such a young age.

König is about to burst a blood vessel when hearing all this: she had a crush on him back then? What the actual fuck??

And then come the cuddles, the slow mornings, the coffee and toast, the showering together… She leaves her toothbrush in his place, and it stares at him accusingly from the side of the sink. She wears his t-shirts and looks absolutely gorgeous, mouth-watering and sweet in them. His sexy little minx, the one who didn’t get away…

Wait, what? No. No. No!

And when his high school sweetheart confesses her love for him for the first time, she's so open and vulnerable and sweet about it. Like she has been from the start, his sweet, sweet girl, exactly the kind of woman he always wanted to bring home to see his mom. König is about to lose his mind when she tugs at his shirt, almost cries when she says how much she loves him and couldn’t bear to live without him… She would cry herself to the grave if anything ever happened to him…

(König is like:)

[probablyintensemuses]

Hey, Brother

Armando Aretas

🎧- Story of My Life: One Direction

summary: Armando’s your older brother, here’s how you meet, past and present.

themes: extreme angst and fluff. A bit of violence. But mostly found family and sibling love.

authors note: completely convinced he’d be an amazing older brother. There is a 8 year age gap between reader (20) and Armando (28). Also shout out to my older brother…I wuv you 💞😭 Also yes I know i switched a few things around. Just enjoy it. If you want a part two, lemme know!

Read Part two here

Four Years Ago

Miami Florida University

The night on campus was quiet, the only things to be heard were the comforting trill of crickets and the soft waves of the ocean, only three miles out from the college.

Armando sat idle on his motorcycle, twelve beats away from where he’d been told you, their next victim, worked.

This entire time he’d been killing people in the name of the Aretas family, he couldn’t understand why Mike Lowery, some beat cop came last. And why his mother was resorting to taking his daughter as bait.

What made Mike so important that he deserved a fight for his life, for your life?

“Mamá, no entiendo, ¿por qué ella?” Armando says through his phone.

Isabel sighs on the other end. “Con el tiempo, hijo mío.”

“She’s just a kid.” Armando sighs, pulling out his ipad and looking at your photos again.

From what he gathered, your were a first year nursing student here at MFU, you got great grades, danced for a kpop club, and worked part time at the cafe he was currently parked out side of.

But most importantly, you were Mike Lowery’s daughter.

Which, in the grand scheme of things, shouldn’t matter.

But for some reason, to his mother, it did.

“She's a pawn,’ Isabel hisses. “Mike necesita conocer el dolor de la pérdida; this will show him.”

Armando nods, taking a deep breath, feeling the same incorrigible anger rising up in his pit again at the sound of Mikes name.

This man had stolen everything from him: his family, his dynasty…his father.

Though his didn’t understand his mother’s methods, he’d never question her madness.

This man took everything from them, it’s time he learned that same pain, and as much as he didn’t enjoy hurting innocent… you were the key to getting even.

“Lo haré mamá.” Armando said, watching you finally exit the cafe.

“Muy bien.” Isabel said, hanging up.

Armando pushed off on his bike, riding a bit down the narrow street before hanging a right and turning back around.

Out of his pocket, he pulled out a needle. Whatever was in there was strong enough to knock out a bear, so it should have no problems sending you, a small college freshman, into a deep sleep.

Swiftly, he drives forward, accelerating until he just passes you before he makes an abrupt stop, cutting your path off.

You fall back and onto your ass.

You help as you hit the pavement, lifting your small hands to access the damage that had been caused by you cradling your fall.

You hiss at your bleeding palms before looking up at Armando in sheer disgust.

The heat of your gaze causes Armando to flip up the visor on his helmet, something in your eyes giving him pause.

He wasn’t a vain person in the slightest, but something about your eyes, when he looked in the mirror, they were so similar to his own that it nearly startled him. They were the same shade of chocolate brown covered by thick, dark lashes.

His observation of you quickly dries as your curse at him. “What the hell, dude! You could have killed me!”

Armando doesn’t say anything, instead he offers you a hand.

Reluctantly, you take it.

Just as your nearly up, Armando pricks you with the needle.

Your face drops as you snatch your hand away from him.

You look down at your palm, a single trail of blood dribbling down your wrist from the spot he pricked you at.

“What the fuck,’ you wobble, turning to run down an ally.

Armando watches as you attempt to flee, he knew it wouldn’t be long before you passed out.

And as he predicted, ten steps in and you were slumped against the moist ally ground.

He picks you up, slinging you across his shoulders, carrying you towards his bike and driving off into the night.

Later…

When you awoke, you found yourself bound to a chair in a large, abandoned house. You wiggle against the binds, only scathing your wrist even more.

You scream out, panic rising in your chest as your breaths shorten.

"Help!" You scream. "Someone help me!"

"Help is on the way, princessa.' A slick voice says.

You turn and see a beautiful woman taking slow, slutry steps down the staircase towards you.

"Who the hell are you?" You croak, scooting away from her the best you can in this damn chair.

The woman, grips your chair with one hand, while running another through your curls. "Your fathers la venganza.” She hissed.

“Don’t touch me,’ you bite. “And my father did nothing wrong, you’re lying.”

Isabel grips your chin, hard. You try and wiggle free but it’s no use as she pulls you close.

She turns your head from side to side, the warm evening sun causing a glint in your eyes.

“Always the eyes,’ she mumbles. “He gives all of his children his eyes.”

“What?” You question, breathlessly.

Isabel forcefully lets you go, leaving a sore spot on your chin.

Your mind reels around her words and the weight of them.

She was your father’s revenge, why? And had she been the one to shoot him all those months ago?

And all of his children. Your father only had one child, you.

Looking around the wear house and seeing all the sage and candles burnt, the circles and alters, you could tell that whoever this woman was, she was crazy and you wanted no parts.

The thought was enough to make a few screams come out of you.

You stamp your foot against the ground, “Let me go! Let me the fuck go!”

Isabel rolls her eyes at you, mumbling something in Spanish before she shouts, “Armando, ven a llevarla antes de que la mate yo mismo.”

Quickly, the man for the other night emerges.

“No,’ you scoot back in your chair as far as you could. “No.”

The man, Armando, grabs you out of your chair and drags you up the staircase.

At the top of the staircase, he slices your binds loose but still has a good hold on you.

Now, you by no means are a good fighter, but with your dad being police, you know a few things.

So as Armando unlocks a door, presumably to put you in, you stamp on his foot as hard as you can.

Armando yelps at the sensation, doubling over, giving you enough time to kick him in the legs and send him down on the ground.

As soon as he hits the floor you take off, running down the steps as fast as you can.

In the foyer, you check for the exit in front of you, but the door is locked.

Your head is buzzing, you didn’t have much time as Armando would be up soon, probably ready to kill you, and that Isabel, who knew what she’d do if she caught you.

You had to move fast, and the window behind you, seemed like your best bet.

You scurried over me to it, working frantically as you tore wooden planks off the window.

You about all got your face out the window before strong arms wrap around your waist living and pushing your back.

You scream as you hit the ground, coming face to face with a less than pleased Armando.

“Enough games!” He shouts.

You crawl backwards, afraid he’ll hit you…or worse.

“Okay!’ You whimper. “I’m sorry…I’m sorry.” You squeak as he towers over your shaking body.

You fully expect him to return the blows you’d given him earlier, but to your surprise he doesn’t. He just grabs you up again and takes you back to that same room.

Shoving you inside he gives you a parting word.

“Do that shit again, and I won’t save you.” He slams the door, leaving you alone in a windowless room, wondering how you’ll end up dead.

In all the enemies your father has had, none of them had mad it a personal mission to kidnap you…so why had they?

Fingers toiling with the dirt around you, it finally clicked.

This was a set up.

You were bait.

And just as fate would have it, you could hear what sounded like your father and Marcus crowding in the foyer downstairs.

You stood up, running towards the door and banging on it like a madwoman.

“Help! Dad! Uncle Marcus!” You shout, slamming your fist against the door.

When the door flies open, you expect to see one or both of them there, but you see Armando.

“Come on.” He grabs you. “Nice and easy.” He places a gun to your temple.

“Stop, why are you doing this?” You whimper, taking careful steps down the stairs.

“Why did your father start it, hm, princesa?” He questions, pulling you in front of your family.

“Dad!” You shout, tears pooling from your eyes.

“Let her go, Armando!’ He shouts, turning to Isabel who stands elated. “She’s a kid.”

“We were all kids once, Mike. It’s why she must have her turn.” Isabel says.

Mike shakes his head, drawing his gun at her, Marcus doing the same to Armando.

“You kill me, he kills her.” Isabel shrugs.

Marcus adds, “then I’ll kill him.”

“Then it’ll be a blood bath.”

You whimper, “please don’t hurt me.”

Armando tightens his grip on you. “Cállate.”

“I just want to go home, daddy.” You cry.

Mikes hand shakes as he hears your pleas. “I know, baby, and we will.”

Isabel smacks her lips. “Liar!” She shouts, lunging at Mike.

Mike dodges the hit, but Marcus’s gun going off starts a cataclysmic event.

Everyone who wants present before suddenly emerging from the darkness and letting off their weapons.

You scream, falling back into Armando, who lifted you off the ground with one hand while shooting with the other, as the chaos erupts around you.

“Marcus!’ Mike yells. “Get Isabel, I’ll get my daughter!”

Marcus sprints, to the best of his ability, after Isabel, while Mike makes full way towards Armando.

In a dark room, Armando drops you, pushing you into a corner.

“Don’t make a fucking sound.” He threatens.

You whimper in a comply.

You hear your father, Mike, burst through the doors, calling your name.

You do as Armando says, though, keeping quiet, afraid anything you do or say will get you and Mike hurt…or worse.

You watch from the dark corner as your father searches the room, only seconds later Armando jumps him, landing a blow.

You watch from the sidelines as they traded blows back and forth.

And it hurt to watch your father in a fight, it did, but what hurt most? The words slipping from his mouth.

“Armando,’ he said. “I’m your father.”

Your head was buzzing, spinning.

What the fuck did he mean this man was his son? How was that even possible?

Your heart raced as you watched Armando’s face fall, confusion lacing every corner.

“You’re lying,’ he said lading another blow, bending down and dragging your father out of the room and into the burning hallway.

You weren’t sure if it was adrenaline or curiosity, but you needed to see this through, hear it for yourself.

You push to stand and creep after them.

Armando has your father at the ledge, his shirt balled up working his hands.

“Last chance,’ he croaks, eyes searching. “Who are you?”

“I just told you.”

“Lie again.” Armando growled, wrapping his hand around your fathers neck, applying pressure.

You gasped, stepping forward, but a hand cautioned you to stay hidden.

You turn, finding Marcus’s comforting eyes as he mouths, “Don’t do it.”

"He needs us," you whisper in protest, Marcus's arm staying firm on yours.

"They need this, just wait."

You relax, only a little watching the scene unfold.

"Ask your mother if you don't believe me." Mike croaks.

Armando turns, loosening his grip on Mike, and in a turn of lightning, Isabel appears, mumbling in Spanish.

"Es verdad lo que dice?" Armando questions his mother.

Isabel shrugs. "No es importante. Mátalo.' her eyes drag over to where you and Marcus stand. "Entonces ellos."

Armando shakes his head in frustration. "Es mi papá?"

Isabel's eyes darken, her words fleeing her mouth more rapidly. "

"Is he my father!" Armando shouts.

Something in the way your father laid limp in Armando's graps, the fire and smoke building around you all, and the life you once knew just yesterday crumpling around you had you desperate for the truth.

"Tell him!" You shout.

Isabel pays you no mind when she says, "yes."

Three letters.

One word.

That was all it took for your world to shatter.

You had a brother you hadn't known about, a brother who drugged and kidnapped you.

all of his children have his eyes.

A brother your father had behind you and your mother's back.

The realization made your mind splinter, picking up in your chest with each shortened breath you took.

Tears pooled in your eyes, making the scene in front of you blur and sharpen, wax and wane.

It's not until a shout and commotion caused you to dial back in, where you find Isabel pointing the barrel of her gun directly at your chest.

You're too frozen to move and put your hands up to brace yourself for the pain, for death.

But it never comes.

only the sounds of four shots ringing out and blaring in your ears, that's the only sensation you get.

You move your hands from your eyes and find Isabel falling over the balcony to her death and Armando on the floor, his shirt filling with blood as Mike, Marcus, and Rita crowd around him.

It clicks then for you, he took that bullet for you, he stepped in for you against his mother.

This family was dysfunctional as hell.

"Get over here!' your father calls out to you. "Now!"

You scurry over, tearing off your flannel and placing it on Armando's wound.

"We need to get the hell out of here!" Rita shouts.

"Go with Rita!" Mike shouts towards you.

You nod, locking hands with Rita and rushing out of the burning building.

Once outside, you look behind yourself to find Mike and Marcus dragging Armando's body and placing him on the ground, applying pressure to his wounds.

The rain clouds your vision as you draw closer to the van waiting to take you away and back home.

"Is he going to be okay?" You ask, holding your wet and naked arms.

Rita sighs, ushering you into the car. "I don't think that's something you should have to worry about.' She smiles softly. "Get some rest, kid. Okay?"

You nod and shut the door, feeling the car jerk before it pulls off and away from the chaos.

You fasten your seatbelt and lean your head back against the headrest.

Perhaps Rita was right, maybe worrying about Armando wasn't such a good idea. Maybe it was best for you to shove it down and let your dad deal with it, like he did everything.

Because you didn't think your heart could handle any more than what it was already going through. Thinking about Armando, your father, and Isabel...it would only weigh you down more.

So you decided to leave them all at that building that night, to burn up in the flames.

At least you tried to...

Four Years Later

Miami Florida University

"Please tell me you're coming to this party tonight?" Your friend, Kiesha, asked over the phone.

You chuckle, climbing the last flight of stairs to your apartment. Your father, Mike, had got it for you as gift for being in your last year of college.

“I can’t, sorry.’ You place the key code to your apartment and the door unlocks. “Lots of studying to do.” You half-lie.

“Girl, all you do is study. You know college is not actually for school.” You can practically feel her rolling her eyes.

You drop your bags on the counter, pulling out a pack of ramen noodles and starting a pot of boiling water.

“That’s easy to say for someone who’s only half majoring in, what is it, communications?” You comment.

The line goes silent for a minute before Keisha comes back.

“Wow,’ she scoffs. “I get that you’re stressing out with finals and you know, your dad being a fucking fugitive and all, but you don’t have to take it out on me.”

You run a hand through your hair, it getting tangled within your curls towards the end.

“Kiesh,’ you groan.

“Save it. Have fun studying.” She grumbles before hanging up.

“Fuck!’ You shout, turning and tossing your phone down the hallway.

Your grip at your hair and tug slightly, shutting your eyes you feel a hot tear slip out.

It had been a whole week since your father and uncle Marcus were deemed fugitives and accused of doing God knows what. It had been hard for you and Christine.

Knowing your father, you knew the allegations weren’t true, but another cover up, same as Captain Howard.

Still, you know it was bullshit meant nothing to the “adults” in charge. They saw him as guilty, and that seemed to be the end of it.

You turn, wiping away your tears and placing your ramen into the boiling pot of water.

It wasn’t the best, but it was all you could stomach these days, the fear of your family's future causing your appetite to slim.

You twirling the noodles in the water with a pair of chopsticks, watching the five minute timer chime by. It all but captivated you into a trance until a creak against the floor caught your attention.

You turn your head, peering down the hallway you had just thrown your phone. Staring into the darkness, you see a figure moving towards you slowly.

You gasp, grabbing a large knife and holding it out in front of you with shaky hands.

You would call for help, but unfortunately your phone was in harms way.

“Don’t come any closer,’ you squeak.

The figure doesn’t respond, it just trudges closer and closer to you until it’s emerged into your kitchen lighting.

At first, you have to squint real hard to make out who it is, but then, when you catch a glimpse of his eyes, so hauntingly like your own, you know who exactly it is.

Your brother, Armando.

You don't drop the knife, keeping it held high as you slowly approach him. You'd seen how vicious he was, and you weren't taking any chances with him.

Closing the space between you two, you could see that he's in full tactical gear, covered in blood.

He takes another step towards you, you step back, before collapsing onto the ground and passing out.

You rush towards his side. “What the hell!” You rip open his vest, finding all kinds of stab wounds and lacerations littering his body. “Armando!” You shake him.

He doesn’t respond, you shake him again, harder this time, and a tiny black book falls out.

You open the book and find your address on one sheet and another sheet addressed to you.

Don’t hate me, babygirl. I’ll explain everything soon, until then, you two lay low.

Be strong for me.

Love, Dad.

You could scream, you could actually fucking scream right now.

No way this motherfucker sends this other motherfucker to your house for you to nurse back to health.

You crumple up your father’s note, chucking it across the room.

Looking down at Armando, you watch the slow rise and fall of his chest as he lay unconscious.

It was obvious he was loosing blood, and you could let him bleed out and pretend you tried everything.

But then again, he saved your life before…and he didn’t even know you.

Guilt tugged in your chest at the thought.

“Fuck.” You breathed, throwing your head back.

You knew what you had to do.

You figured lifting him would be hard, he was bigger than you by a long shot and was basically deadweight.

You tapped him, shook him, slapped him…hard, but nothing woke him up.

Looks like you’d be operating on the floor.

You stood, gathering your curls in a pineapple on your head, and headed to your bathroom.

You grabbed all the first aid kit supplies you could find, fresh clothes, a blanket and pillow, before heading back out to the main part of your apartment.

You slipped on some gloves, cut open his shirt, and began working on his wounds, dressing them and putting on bandages.

Thank God for nursing school and clinicals.

It took you two bowls of ramen, a Celsius, and a whole heck of a lot of bandages and gorilla glue, but you got Armando mostly patched up.

You wiped the sweat of your forehead grabbing the pillow and blankets you’d grabbed.

You gently lifted his head placing the pillow underneath and the blanket on top of him.

Next to his body you placed the fresh clothes, Gatorade, protein bars, and a bottle of water.

When you finally stood, you felt woozy and in need of a shower and sleep yourself.

But before you crept off to take your shower, you stood over Armando, taking in his features.

His dark hair, his smooth skin, his nose, and lips. He looked like a Spanish version of your father and it was freaking you the fuck out, sending a shiver down your spine.

You walked away hoping your father’s explanation was coming soon because, you may have just saved his life on the conscious fact that he’d done the same for you, but he was still dangerous…and who knows what would happen to you when he wakes up.

The next morning, when you wake up, you creep out of your bedroom, peaking to see if Armando had moved at all.

To your surprise, he hadn’t.

You release a heavy sigh, walking over towards his body.

You watch his chest rise and fall, faster than last night.

Good.

At least your dad couldn’t kill you for letting his son die.

You lean in a big closer to Armando, checking out his wounds from a far.

One wound had opened it seemed like.

You turn and grab the gorilla glue and a bandage of your counter.

Completely removing one bandage, you toss it to the side, pinching the skin of his chest while prepping the glue.

You’re just about to glue his would shut again, when his arm shoots up, gripping your wrist.

You scream, falling back on your ass.

Armando’s eyes shoot open and he sits up quick in a panic.

You crawl backwards, away from him, bumping into the cabinet .

Armando groans, rubbing his sore torso and arms.

His eyes skate across the room before they find yours.

He jumps back a little. “¿Qué diablos me hiciste?”

You swallow, holding your knees. “I don’t speak Spanish.”

Armandos eyes widen then narrow. “Did you do this to me?” He says, accessing his bandages.

You hesitate to tell him the truth…would he be mad and hurt you again?

Armando must sense the hesitation. “I’m not going to hurt you,’ he groans, slowly standing up. “It’s just a question.”

You nod, backing away from him. “Yes…I did.”

Armando swipes up the bottle of water, chugging it, tossing it aside, and then going for the Gatorade. “Gracias.” He grumbles, heading towards your bathroom.

You stand, slowly following after him, still keeping some distance between you two.

Armando peers over his should, eyebrow raised. “Mike sent me, if you’re wondering.”

“I know.”

“I don’t want to be here as much as you don’t want me here.”

“I never said that.” You clarify, even though he’s not wrong.

“Don’t need to.”

You frown. “Armand—,”

He slams the door shut.

“Great.” You roll your eyes. “Just fucking great.”

You slam your head against the wall, thinking off all the ways you would tell your dad off when you saw him next. But until then, it seemed you and Armando would be roommates.

So you should try and be cordial, right?

[kenjakusbraincum]

*JJK manga spoilers*

You know how Yorozu is obsessed with Sukuna and wants to marry him and teach him about love? Well, I can’t help but picture Sukuna already having a wife and her being amused by the whole thing. One; because of the expressions her husband makes whenever Yorozu is in his general vicinity. Two; because of the sheer audacity Yorozu possesses.

Just Sukuna’s wife hiding her grin behind her hand as she tries to smother her laughter at the ridiculousness of it all.

She isn’t worried about Sukuna in the slightest, as they both share the same sentiment; they don’t like sharing.

Godd Sukuna's disgusted faces when Yorozu is near him live rent free in my hear 😭 He does NOT look like he enjoys that type of attention at all.

Sukuna strikes me as someone who is very subtle about love, and he likes his partners to be too. I don't think he enjoys being seen engaging in very loving situations. It definitely ruins his image of being a monster in his eyes. Poor Yorozu wouldn't know, she doesn't know him as well as his partner, of course.

There's multiple reasons I think Yorozu fails. First is that, second I think she's too loud and proud. Sukuna prefers his partners more submissive, at least in the public eye if not in private. Lastly, I think she's trying to teach Sukuna the wrong kind of love. Everyone tries to teach Sukuna love through the language of fighting, that he already speaks fluently. In fact, I think the whole approach of "teaching" is what Sukuna finds disrespectful.

But if you had to teach him something, why not teach him something new? The other kind of love. The one he's inexperienced in, something he's maybe never felt before. Maybe it's foolish and maybe he will never be able to feel it, but at least it's more creative than what everyone else is trying.

And maybe it succeeds, and has Sukuna trembling and walking on eggshells when Yorozu is around, cause he fears his spouse's all seeing eye and the (playful) nagging that comes afterwards 😩

[anathemaspeaks]

can i please get fluff number 13, "delete that! i look disgusting." and 14, "your flirting is so bad it's adorable." with gojo 😁

here you go 🫶

requests are open! (please request stuff)

check out my prompt list.

you stood in front of satoru, arms flailing around comically, trying to jump up and reach the phone in his hand. you never stood a chance. he just stayed in the same position, an arm lazily outstretched above his head, eyes filled with glee and laughs escaping his throat at your futile attempts at capturing his phone from him.

"delete that! i look disgusting" you demanded, thoroughly annoyed by his antics, hair messy, with both of you standing on top of your bed.

"disgusting? i happen to think this is your best picture yet!" he said, eyes filled with mirth, mocking your current helpless state, the wide grin on his face ever-present.

"gojo satoru-"

"not the full government name" he gasped, seemingly offended. drama queen.

the picture of you was downright horrendous. you were napping, mouth wide open, a little bit of drool on the side, head on your pillow with your hair as wild as a bird's nest. and click! he took a picture, being the spectacular friend he is.

but ever the dumbass, the shutter sound woke you up, which brought you to your current predicament.

you tried to reach up again, only this time, you lost your balance and landed right into his toned chest, causing you both to topple down onto your plush bed, with you falling on top of him. red from both the intimacy and frustration, you were still trying your hardest to retrieve his phone.

"that picture is a national threat" you reasoned, trying to convince him, looking into his eyes.

"national treasure, you mean?" he asked with a small smirk, eyes boring into yours. oh. they're really blue. now mere inches away from him, with you straddling his body with your own, you realized he was blushing, light pink dusting his cheeks.

"oh, so you want it because you want me, huh?" you teased. what you weren't expecting was for him to blush even more, now completely flustered.

"n-no!" he started, eyes shifting away from yours, the cocky demeanor from a minute ago now gone. "it's just for blackmail, because-"

"aw, your flirting is so bad it's adorable" you interrupted, catching your tongue when you realized what you just said. he paused.

"adorable, huh?" he looked into your eyes again, cocky smirk reappearing. shit. now you were the one blushing and avoiding his ardent stare.

the air had changed all too quickly, the witty comeback dying on your tongue at the sheer intensity of his gaze. you let out a meek "maybe," and that was all the confirmation he needed.

he tiled his chin, fingers lightly grazing your jaw and pulling you closer, noses almost touching. you could feel his teasing smile, the glint in his eyes shifting from playfulness to fondness and uncertainty, searching yours for permission.

you leaned down, and his mouth captured yours in a soft, hesitant kiss. warmth flooded through your body, eyes fluttering shut at the feeling of his lips on yours. you moved your hands into his hair, only breaking apart when you both were breathless, matching soft smiles on both of your flushed faces.

he tucked a strand your hair behind your ear gently, before letting his hand rest on your cheek with an unfamiliar shyness in his eyes.

"i should blackmail you more often" he quipped, breaking the silence, the stupidly handsome smirk back on his face.

"shut up" you mumbled, rolling your eyes. a smile tugged at your lips nevertheless.

"make me" he replied, voice deep and smooth, already leaning up to capture your lips in another kiss.

sorry this is bad 😭

likes, reblogs, and follows are appreciated <3

[dumbbitchgalore]

I don’t know if this is your cup of tea, but I feel this is the safest place I can discuss this 😭

Price with a small dick, like super small, micro penis kind of small. He’s a proud man, not many things he’s embarrassed of, but his tiny dick is one of them.

You guys are fucking for the first time and when you get him naked, you pause. Not because you’re disgusted, but because that wasn’t what you were expecting.

And he gets so mean!!! Asks,

“You gonna suck it or not, love?”

And you lean back on your haunches, arms folded across your chest as you glare up at him.

“Maybe, if you ask nicely,”

And it takes him a moment, but he chuckles and shakes his head. You aren’t disgusted by him, aren’t put off, but you’re upset about his attitude.

“Sorry darling,” He whispers. He rubs his thumb along your cheek in apology. “Will you suck it?”

“That’s better,” you practically harrumph.

And he would just fit so perfectly in your mouth!! No strain, no aggression when he rolls his hips against your face, no gagging, he’d feel so warm and delicious against your tongue.

He hardly touches your tongue, that’s how small he is, but you wouldn’t want it any other way!!!

I AM SQUEALING WHILE READING THIS ANON!!!

God, the way you suckle his micropenis is so cute! Sometimes you'll do it out of sheer boredom and bury your face in his crotch and nudge his cock with your nose, nuzzling against it. And best thing is the way John looks down at you when you worship his cock. Fuck, he looks so content and happy that someone like you can even appreciate his cock.

I am salivating anon! 🤤

Thank you for blessing me with your presence! 🙇🏽‍♀️

[groovygladiatorsheep]

Murder Drones x TADC designs !!

I recently started watching Murder Drones ( I don’t mind spoilers in tags or in reactions !! :] ) and I thought, hm. I could definitely do something with this and the Digital Circus..

So here they are ! They got lore ✨ and in fact, I do have planned to make multiple ‘pods’ of the gang, three by each. Pomni is here, and Caine is… something that’ll be introduced separately.

—•*—

Credits -

The Amazing Digital Circus - @/gooseworx

Murder Drones - Liam Vickers

—•*—

Info -

So !!!

Here, we have the first pod of the gang, Ragatha, Jax… and supposedly Kaufmo. Pomni is just tagging along !

Originally, I thought about putting the threes in others pods, such as the Kinger-Gangle-Zooble one.

I think it’d be super interesting to have Zooble with those twos ! But Kaufmo fitted more J’s abomination look, shame.

Andddd Zooble is supposedly new in TADC, so it’s doubly interesting to have them sort of be with one of the drones who’s been out there for very long, aka Kinger.

Even if Gangle has possible been here for a bit too ! We don’t know much on her whereabouts for now 😭

Onto the main part.

- Jax hides his disgust for killing other drones under the guise of a relaxed look and snarky comments, a bit like in his original ver. He’s one of the two who tends to first look out for the two pods, but no one notices since he can be a bit… your average disassembling drone but worse.

He loves to pull pranks on his camarades, except they can actually get hurt during those.. never severely though.

- Ragatha usually apologizes when killing working drones,she always tries to say the right thing to appease tensions ! I think she’d be capable of letting herself without the oil they need to survive, just to let the others take them instead of her. They always share, though !

She definitely can kick ass, I’d say she might be one of the strongest of the bunch when it’s physical. Jax and Kinger are more of the brain, Gangle is more of the deceiving kind, and Zooble is just straight up using tactics and her weapons instead of sheer force.

Sadly despite her competences, she tends to try and one shot the murder drones to not hear them scream too much.

- Kaufmo tends to try and make his victims laugh to death, but in the end they usually hurls and try to run off. Not much is known about him from our point of view after his sudden disappearance - although the next time we see him, he’s quite, different ?

- Pomni is assumed to be a worker drone with the AbsoluteSolver in her. But the odd thing is, she has traits from the disassembling drones ! She has claws,some similar looking legs but it’s questioned to be the only thing for now.

Her origin is unknown, but she one day woke up with all her previous memories wiped out.. I’d imagine she slowly uncover her newfound SolverTM powers.. and the downside of it.

[mamamittens]

Fun little headcanons before bed that I've had on my mind for a while.

How would (X) handle you not being able to look/talk to them because you think they're too pretty?

(it's me, I can't look and talk to people I think are really pretty. Don't look at me with your pretty eyes damnit 😭)

Marco

Now, quite reasonably, Marco is going to assume you're just intimidated (and he's not... Wrong???) And give you space. This is assuming you're on the same ship and prone to running into each other otherwise he wouldn't need to think about it much at all.

This does get troublesome when time doesn't fix the issue. Unless he's your direct commander it just gets... Frustrating. Sure you're not together all the time but he gets a bit tired of being treated like he has the plague. Eventually, he's going to confront you about hating him.

Only to be baffled by how you're studiously avoiding eye contact. And you're blushing madly. And can't seem to string together sentences.

Oh.

Now, he gets a little mean. Screw him. He thought you hated his guts for the longest time. He milks it a little, just enough to see you sweat that he's definitely onto you. But if it approaches real anxiety or fear he takes a step back and handles it differently. He doesn't want you to be uncomfortable after all.

Ends up having a small but genuine conversation with your backs to each other.

Afterwards, he's preening to himself.

You really thought he was so damn pretty you couldn't talk to him.

Luckily, he thinks you're pretty cute too.

Ace

Immediately assumes you hate him totally and completely. So much so that it takes some time for people to figure out who's avoiding whom. And it takes even longer for someone to convince Ace that there's something going on. But once that idea is planted in his head he's going to worry over it. Constantly. It will literally haunt him.

He needs answers.

He's going in a tad aggressive, demanding answers so he can make peace with the obvious truth that you hate him. Getting pissed off that you won't look at him--clearly you're disgusted by him. Fuck, can't you at least have the balls to say it to his face??? What's he gotta do to get you to admit how much you hate him?

Then he sees how hard your blushing, face hot as you hide behind your hands. And he assumes that he's effectively been bullying you and maybe you don't hate him but clearly you're terrified of him (so close yet so far...)

So now he's apologizing, getting all worked up himself because now you definitely have to hate him! He's just going to... Go now. Sorry...

It's only when his back is turned that you can string together a response to explain that he's too pretty to handle.

It's a solid two minutes before he can think again, he's so fucking thrown by your explanation. Turning on instinct before remembering the problem so he hides his face in his hat, which is great cause his face is bright enough to function as a lighthouse.

Face now hidden behind a hat he gets to the bottom of it. He's... Absolutely baffled and almost doesn't believe you but the sheer awkwardness is convincing enough on its own.

Now he's got a new problem.

How does he get you used to his face so he can see your cute face himself whenever he wants?

Thatch

Immediately he wants to solve the issue. He may not know what it is but he certainly isn't a shrinking violet! It's actually kind of impressive how persistent he is given your determination to not be confronted with him in person. He constantly laments that he can't hold a conversation with you now matter how hard he tries! That you always end up running from him--he's not that rough looking is he? Is it the hair? Please don't be the hair he might actually cry

Finally, after turning in some favors, he essentially corners you. Turning up the charm (oh sweet summer child that is not helping) to talk through this little issue between you. But! You're not looking at him! How will you know he's being sincere if you can't see his face?!?

And hey... You're looking kinda flushed you good? Are you sick?

He goes in to coddle you a little and is startled at the dying sound that slips out, your hand immediately covering your face in sheer embarrassment.

Oh... Oh?!? OH?!?!

He wastes no time preening to himself, instantly figuring it out while asking if there's anything he can do to make it easier to talk (batting his eyes like a nerd). You're so damn cute he pulls you in for a hug while laughing a bit.

All those plans for nothing! You didn't hate him not were you scared of him (sorta).

Looks like he's gotta make new plans so he can see more of your cute reactions for himself.

Now imma pass out for work in... 5 hours lol, no wonder I sleep for 17 hours on the weekend, yikes 😬

[sunshinejinx]

pls im so serious. the girl i’m in love with shows up to break up with me looking like this ??? no i would fall to my knees and beg for forgiveness. i would be sobbing screaming tears and snot everywhere, simply put; a disgusting pathetic mess bc like … lowcut violet top w sheer sleeves and a statement necklace… buffy!! this was crazy, she’s so pretty. this was almost criminal 😭

[rierice8]

Hey bestieee

So I think you should write Soukoku just for me bc u love me sm!!! I’ll leave all the details up to u but it must be SMUTTY AF foreplay to the max, and the rest can be whatever your pretty little heart desires

Merci ❤️anon

(Ps did I mention to make it extra smutty)

I THINK I DID YOU DIRTY BESTIE- I PUT A LOOOOT OF PLOT 😭😭

I’m not that good at writing smutty smut and I don’t wanna let down my bestie 😔

But I DO think I did you dirty…

I started writing this on the plane back home…in late August…SO IT'S BEEN A WHILE

Sorry if it feels a little plot heavy or rushed around the end, I…was not very inspired at all…usually an x reader blog but I made an exception for YOU 🫵 anyways let's say this is in celebration that skk isn’t soukover and they’re still alive!

What did you say?

Dom chuuya x sub dazai

Word count: 1876

Warnings: PLOT (scary scary oh no), drinking, drunk sex, name calling (good boy, slut, etc), size kink

Ever since the port mafia and the detective agency called a temporary truce to fight against Fyodor, to Chuuyas misfortune, Dazai has been showing up more and more often. To the point where sometimes Chuuyas afraid to open his room door in the morning since Dazai could easily be standing right there. Dazai has been purposefully trying to provoke Chuuya as much as possible, simply for the sake of being annoying. Leading us up to this evening, where Chuuya gets a knock on his door at a ridiculously late hour.

“What the fuck…who is it?!” Chuuya yelled from the living room as he stood slowly to go answer the door. The person on the other side just kept knocking too, not even stopping after Chuuya had got up to go to the door.

“Ok! Jesus fucking christ, I’m coming!” Chuuya said clearly annoyed as he groggily walked to the door and unlocked it. He didn’t even have to open the door by a centimetre before the door was flung open by who ither than Dazai.

“Chuuuuuya~ I brought wineee!!” Dazai giggled as he closed Chuuya’s door with his foot. Chuuya gave his unexpected visitor a look of sheer disgust.

“And who the fuck said you could come in?? Who invited you? Its fucking 2 in the morning?!” Chuuya yelled, but not loud enough to go through the walls, as he still had respect for his neighbours. Dazai sighed and placed his free hand on his forehead in a theatrically overdramatic way.

“But Chuuuuuyaaaaa!! I went out to buy the most expensive wine I could get just so we could get wasted together and now you're shunning me?!?! I’m going to throw myself off the roof!” Dazai cried. Chuuya all of a sudden was rather interested. Wine?

“Ooh…what kind did you get? Let me see the bottle.” Chuuya snatched the bottle from Dazai’s hand and grimaced.

“Expensive wine my ass, this might as well be from the fucking dollar store. Did you thrift this wine? Cuz I swear this shit is the cheapest thing on the shelf, fucker.” Chuuya put the bottle down on the kitched counter and got two glasses, and his own bottle of wine. Meanwhile Dazai walked to Chuuya’s living room and saw the tv was paused on a cheesy romance movie.

“Chuuya, what kinda garbage do you watch? I know I spent dirt on that wine but your brain must be dirt to think a movie like this is worth watching,” Dazai teased as he turned the tv off and waited for Chuuya to bring the wine and glasses. As Chuuya walked to the living room he scoffed.

“What do you know about romance, dipshit?” Chuuya said as he opened the bottle and poured the glasses. Dazai laughed.

“Surely I know more about romance than you do. At least I’ve had relationships before,” Chuuya scoffed and rolled his eyes at Dazai.

“Oh yeah, “relationships”. All of your relationships lasted a week or less and were toxic as fuck since I bet you’re not even interested in women,” Chuuya smirked as he took a sip of his wine. Dazai reached to grab his glass too, taking a sip and sighing.

“Aw drat! Caught me red handed again Chuuyaaa,” Dazai said sarcastically as he threw his head back dramatically.

“I guess all I’ve ever wanted was some short ginger man to fuck me dumb~” Dazai teased. Chuuya only sighed in response.

“Yeah? Just say that again when I’m a little more drunk and see where it gets you, whore.” Chuuya took another sip of his wine, while watching Dazais face turn from coy to flustered in seconds.

“What did you say?”

“Nothing, now drink up you fucker. By the way this is my own wine, not the dog shit you bought, so every drop you drink is coming out of your pocket,” Chuuya said as he refilled his own glass and went to sit down next to Dazai on the couch. Chuuya grabbed the tv remote and stuck on the movie he was watching before. Dazai laughed and immediately started mocking it

“Oh~~ Alejandro!! Mi amour!! You cannot leave me, wah~~ for look, my legs…they opened automatically!!!” Dazai laughed hysterically as he danced around the room. Chuuya held back a laugh, not wanting to give him the satisfaction.

“Bro just watch the movie. The wine is clearly already fucking with you, whatever happened to “I have a high alcohol tolareance” Dazai?” Chuuya laughed. Dazai looked almost offended as he sat down again and watched the movie.

Both of them were slowly sipping their wine glasses, unknowingly going through at least three each. Dazai lets his head slip onto Chuuyas shoulder…Chuuya runs his hand up Dazais thigh…Dazai whispers filth into Chuuya’s drunken ears...Chuuya lifts Dazai’s face by the chin and stares at him, eyes half lidded.

“What was that you said about wanting to get fucked dumb by me again?”

Dazai’s eyes shot wide open before he settled into a smug look.

“I don’t know~ did I ever even say anything?”

Chuuya scoffed as he lent in so closely to Dazai that they were basically kissing.

“Oh…well thats sad,”

Chuuya smirked as he completely pulled away, leaving Dazai sitting there stupidly with his eyes closed, as if he was waiting for Chuuya to kiss him. His eyes snapped open as Chuuya moved away completely

“Woah woah woah wait!! I was just jokinggg, I said something earlier, what, did you want me to repeat myself? I gladly will!!” Dazai chirped, basically begging.

Chuuya just nodded, waiting to see if Dazai really meant it or if he was just joking.

Dazai then lent in close to Chuuya’s ear, pressing himself against chuuya in the process and he whispered.

“I want you to to fuck me, Chuuya.”

Maybe it was pent up desire, or maybe it was just the wine, or whe way Dazai seemingly begged but either way their lips were pressed together. Dazai parting his lips slightly to leave passage for Chuuyas tongue, yet without breaking the kiss, he also stated moving to straddle Chuuya. Once Dazai found his place on Chuuya’s lap he only took a second long breather before going back to kiss the ginger. Bandaged hands running up under Chuuya’s shirt, almost achning to get the thing off. Slowly breaking the heated kiss, Chuuya moved to gently kissing along Dazais jaw before pulling away fully to look at him. Dazai’s eyes were halflidded and clouded with lust…or maybe just alcohol. Dazai steadied himself with a hand against Chuuya’s chest as Chuuya slowly unbuttoned Dazai’s shirt.

“For fucks sake just take it off already!” Dazai sighed, while Chuuya just smirked.

“You we’re the one begging for me to do with you as I want, now you’re gonna be a good boy and be patient, ok?” Dazai just gulped and nodded. Finally Dazai’s shirt was fully unbuttoned and thrown to the floor, where Chuuya then hurriedly takes his own shirt off. He peppered kisses down Dazai’s chest and started gently biting and sucking on the milky skin. Dazai’s already gasping, and tangling his hands in chuuyas hair.

“Shit...Chuuya” Dazai said as he let his head tip back. Chuuya smiled against his skin as he left little hickeys behind, all the way up to his neck, making sure they can’t be covered. He trailed his hands down Dazais chest before reaching the hem of his pants. Dazai’s breath hitched.

“You good?” Chuuya asked, making sure before moving any further. Dazai just nodded.

Bliss. That's what Dazai could describe it as, maybe if he could think. Chuuyas digits roughly fucking in and out of his ass, his head thrown back in pleasure as Chuuya kept leaving little marks all over his neck, pulling his bandages loose so that he has more access. As Chuuya fingered Dazai loose, he started playing with Dazai’s tip too, who only let out pornographic moans in response.

“Shit Chuuya- Ngh!”

Chuuya kissed him, swallowing all his moans in the heated moment.

“You’re such a slut. Letting me use you like this. You even asked for it, and now you're whining and doing absolutely nothing…what if I put you to work,” Chuuya whispered to Dazai as he stopped all his actions. Dazai whined in response

“N-no why, what? Don’t stop, come onn,”

He grumbled, Chuuya just took off his boxers and beckoned Dazai

“Ride me. Bitch.”

And without hesitation, Dazai climbed on top of Chuuya and lined up his hole with Chuuyas cock, slowly sinking down on it with an ecstatic expression, moans spilling out of the both of them.

“Shit…so deep…”

Dazai said breathlessly as he finally sat down fully. Within seconds Dazai started moving, up and down rhythmically. A small bump forming on his stomach. Chuuya just watches as it gets smaller and bigger again, moving his hand to push down on it before leaning in to Dazai’s neck, leaving kisses trailing up to his ear

“You feel that? Thats how fucking deep my cock is in you.”

Dazai moaned at Chuuya’s words. After bouncing for a while though he started slowing down, whining at the loss of sensation

“Chuuya, I can't…I’m tired…please..”

Chuuya thrust his hips up into Dazai, gipping into his hair and pulling on it.

“Please? Please what? What do you want, slut?”

“Fuck- shit Chuuya! Ngh- I just want you to fuck me already! Please-”

Chuuya then flipped Dazai over on the couch, so he was positioned on top. He then started pounding into Dazai, no remorse. As if it had been his one and only desire for years.

“Ngh- shit! Fuck I’m-”

Dazai was trying to grip the couch fabric as he failed to speak from all the sudden pleasure.

“Shit I’m gonna fucking fill you up,”

Chuuya panted out, slamming in and out of Dazai as he just writhes and moans. Dazai’s hands going to lift his legs up so Chuuya could hit deeper.

“Please do, oh fuck- Shit I’m gonna cum- mnfg!”

Chuuya bit his lip as Dazai clenched around his dick.

“Shit, me too…”

Chuuya moved so he was more so laying flush against Dazai, wanting to feel their skin touching as he uses it as leverage to also thrust harder into Dazai. Chuuya reaches down to stroke Dazai’s dick as he keeps pounding him at the same time.

“Ngh shit!! Fuck fuck I’m, Ah! I’m gonna- Mngh!”

Chuuya bit into Dazai’s collar as he only stroked him faster.

“That’s it, cum for me, good boy.”

And like on cue Dazai came just seconds later, clenching down tight around Chuuya, which only made him get closer to that edge. After a couple of thrusts Chuuya came inside Dazai. Basically collapsing on top of him moments after. Both panting and tired.

“I…never thought you were gonna take my joke seriously…very happy you did though,”

Dazai laughed breathily, Chuuya only laughing a bit in return.

“Any day…any time…I’d be more than willing to take your jokes seriously,”

Dazai’s eyes widened a bit

“Did you know I loved you, Chuuya?”

He said. Chuuya smiled and kissed him sweetly.

“Of course I did, dipshit. I’ve loved you for seven years now. That's seven years too many.”

Chuuya said with a smile, Dazai nodded.

“Yeah…seven years too many indeed…”

[cc-hot-cakes]

my favorite quote ever from camp camp has to be "wowwww, that is racist" because sometimes you really do see something that is so astonishingly racist that there's no other interjection you can use to convey the sheer shock, disgust, and amusement, other than "wow, that is racist"

YEAH 😭 I think it was definitely a choice to make David do the chant.. but at least it gets reprimanded automatically (still not gonna defend it.. for obvious reasons 😭)

[bbyquokka]

ohohohoho. thank you for the chan ask aND answer. it's given me some inspiration.

you're walking down the street, hand in hand with chan while the boys are being themselves and howling with laughter. you were returning from the group movie night after all. rubbing your eyes softly, you let out a small yawn which doesn't go unnoticed by chan. "is my baby sleepy now?" he asks to which you nod your head. it had been a tiring week at work/school but you decided to end your friday night at the theatres with the gang nevertheless. you take chan by suprise by letting go of his grip and making grabby hands at him. unsure of what you want, chan pouts while in thought. suddenly, his steps come to a hault and he crouches down in front of you. "watchyu waitin for pretty? hop on." he says to you as a slight blush taints your cheeks at his actions. obliging nevertheless, you climb onto his back as he secures his arms around your thighs. jisung is obviously the first to notice as he yells about how grossly cute this is to which chan headbutts him. hyunjin is making a face of sheer disgust while I.N. smiles sweetly at the sight. embarassed, you bury your neck in chan's face. his scent and the darkness making it even more difficult to keep your eyes open.

jisung has had enough.

he makes minho bend over as he forces himself onto the older's back. after a shit ton of coaxing from jisung, he finds himself happily relaxed on minho's back. changbin hoists felix on his and hyunjin on seungmin. at the sight of I.N. pouting his lips, minho convinces the group that he'd done enough back exercises at the gym during the week and could easily take both jisung and I.N. to the dorms down the road. the members have no choice but to let him because once lee know's made up his mind, there's no stopping him.

during all the commotion, you've managed to fall asleep, content on chan's back. his ears perk up at the soft snores escaping your lips and a smile graces his face as he tightens his hold on you. continuing his walk down the street while the rest follow. chan thinks to himself, "i could get used to this."

AHISIWJSI ANON!! THIS IS SO SWEET AND ADORABLE!! 😭

after saying your goodbyes to the others, Chan would carry your tired body home. opening the door and gently placing you on your bed, careful not to wake you up - which you do once you realise you don't feel that familiar warmth anymore.

rubbing your eyes slowly, you look up at Chan, lids heavy with sleep as you pout. he coos softly, grabbing your make-up remover wipes. he'd gently wipe away your make-up, being ever so delicate in doing so.

you'd whine and pout, clinging onto the material of his t-shirt. once done with make-up, you'd complain about how you have to brush your teeth and take a night pee otherwise you wouldn't be able to aleep

“carry me.” you'd sleepily insist. Chan happily obliges, picking you up bridal style. he'd help you brush your teeth, giving you some privacy as you pee. in doing so, he'd gather your pjs, ready and waiting for you to finish so you can change.

dragging your tired body back to the bedroom, Chan would help you change into your pjs, tucking you into bed. a soft peck on the forehead and a gentle “goodnight.” would cause you to grab his wrist.

“stay.” you'd whisper. Chan's cheeks turning pink, aware of what you're asking of him.

“i-i don't have pjs..”

“you have underwear though.” your eyes fightening a losing battle with sleep, feeling heavier and heavier by the second. “stay Chan, don't leave me just yet.”

how could he say no to his sweet baby?

deciding to give in, he'd strip down to his underwear and climb into bed next to you. you'd automatically shuffle into his chest, his strong arms wrapping around you and holding you close to his warmth.

you'd doze off, the sound of his gentle breathing and heartbeat soothing to your soul.

→ TAGS [open]: @chaneomma | @sstarryoong | @meltheninja13 | @laylasbunbunny | @oshimee

[bunny584]

From Obsessed:Gojo

"You longingly look back at the pastries, and furrow your brows. As if your figure isn’t goddamn perfect. You don’t need those silly pilates classes. Satoru could work you out on his cock every day. Would be more than sufficient enough. "

It's- It's so good ✨🤌😭

Like, the sheer want in that? Aaahhh I love it so much 🥺🫶

Love your work, OP! ✨

Hahahaha anon baby, I was in a MOOD when I wrote that. I’ve since been purified please I don’t know such sins!!!!!

(literally I’m disgusting thank you for reading my brainrot)

now that I’ve actually reread that one I probably should go back and edit the hell out of it. I give it a 6.5/10 technical score.

[apollogies-p]

Prompt: Fathers Who'd Kill

A part two to my other story and yet another really late addition to ToApril 😭🙏🙏

@toapril-official

▪︎▪︎☆▪︎▪︎

"Wha, shit-"

With a fluttering chiton, Apollo stumbled into the cottage he shared with Chiron and Artemis.

Speaking of Artemis, "Artemis! Artemis! Please, I need your help!" Dragging a hand down his face, he continued, "Me and, me and Chiron got into an argument and he's run off!" With a scoff (and just a few tears shed), Apollo realized Artemis wasn't going to help him anytime soon. It had been a little over four hours, and the sun was starting to set.

Under any other circumstance, Apollo would've been able to track Chiron, no problem (what you think his sister's the only one with tracking skills?) but unfortunately, he's afraid his dear little sister may have trained Chiron a little too well. No matter how far he strained his ears, Apollo never registered Chiron's soft footsteps or his breathing, and whatever traces he did find were in vain.

Chiron, his Chiron, his beautiful baby boy, was going to be at the mercy of all of those monsters. Chiron was eleven, and he couldn't defend himself, gods his dear son was still afraid of the dark for Hades sake!

He stepped out into the cool summer air and knelt in front of the cottage, the grass still wet with mildew. Ignoring the grass stains he was bound to get on his chiton, he screwed his eyes shut and began to pray.

Lady Persephone, goddess of Spring, Queen of the Underworld, and Wife to Lord Hades. Please. Help me. Chiron might be in danger.

Apollo's grip on the grass tightened, please, I can't lose him.

He closed the connection with Persephone and haphazardly wiped his tears away. Crying won't help his son, and neither will waiting.

Scanning the area for dryads left him with nothing. He was going to have to search further down the mountain. Most dryads would've turned in for the night the moment the sun started to set. With nothing more than a thought, Apollo appeared at the edge of the mountain, peering down the steep land.

Shit. He was going to have to go down the mountain wasn't he?

Under any other circumstances, this would've been an easy task, but as much as he loathed to admit it, he was terrified. The pit of anxiety and fear of potentially losing the same little kid that made the past decade the best he's ever lived grew stronger every passing moment. Holding his hand out in front of his face, he realized he was trembling.

Suddenly behind him, a burst of something that can only be described as the pure essence of spring overwhelmed his senses.

"Apollo? Honey, what's wrong?" Apollo turned around, and he lost it; he wept openly in Persephone's arms. "I lost him Persephone, he's gone!" It was through sheer miracle that she was able to piece together his incoherent blubbering.

"Apollo, sunshine, look at me, love. Please look at me." Her hands were so warm against his tear-stained cheeks, but all he could think about was his beautiful boy gone- just like so many of his other children-

"Apollo!" His eyes focused on Persephone's deep brown skin, and he forced himself to breathe.

"It was, it was just supposed to be an average training session Perse, but Chiron got frustrated, and he just-" Apollo licked his lips, he felt so winded, so human.

It wasn't a feeling he enjoyed.

With a shaky sigh, he rose from the ground, nose scrunching in disgust at the wet cloth of his chiton sticking to his knees. Persephone rose with him, and it was with a clearer head that he was able to properly recount exactly what occurred.

Persephone let out a soft hum and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, "Let me fetch my mother and we'll ask the local nymphs for help, " With a sly grin she added, "they'll listen to a pair of natural goddess for sure."

He returned the smirk and held Persephone's hand, giving it a firm squeeze before removing it from his shoulder. "I'll scour the forests again, Chiron couldn't have gotten far." He was gone before Persephone could even nod.

¤¤▪︎¤¤

Six hours.

Six long hours of searching for his son and nothing. It was a miracle that Apollo only had one minor breakdown during all that time. By hour three, he had gotten so emotional that he wailed in Demeter's arms as she whispered comforting words to him.

He supposed she knew what it felt to lose a child too.

Now, Apollo stood in a small clearing in the middle of the dense forest. The sun long gone, and now, with his sister in the sky, Apollo felt a little less nervous, just a little. The clearing was no doubt the former home of a pack of hellhounds, if the clumps of fur were anything to go by. Reaching his hand up the lower branches, Apollo grabbed a small clump of the jet black fur. It probably belonged to a small pup with how dark and unusually soft the fur was.

"Chiron..." He whispered. I'll find you, Chiron, I promise.

With a huff, he took off one more, leaping past rivers and rocks. He could feel the slimy eyes of all kinds of creatures following him. Apollo prayed to any god that'd listen. Please let him be safe.

Another hour- or had it been thirty minutes? Apollo's racing heart and thoughts made it hard to keep track of time-

Snap!

He whipped his head towards the source of the noise, it was at least about twenty kilometers away. Maybe he it just a rogue monster, a cyclops, perhaps? But his instincts told him otherwise, his body screamed at him, gocheckgocheckgocheck-

A sob pierced the air, harsh but quiet enough that, had Apollo not been a music god, he would've never heard it.

Apollo's never moved quicker.

He charged into the, now destroyed, glade. His eyes took in the scene, hellhounds everywhere, at least three fully mature cyclops surrounding a foal. No-

His son.

Pure fury filled his senses. Bright and violent like the sun should be. His body moved quicker than his thoughts. Golden dust painted the trees and ground. With a roar of pure rage, he shot down all three cyclops towering over Chiron, his baby. Finally, with a swift movement of his arm, light erupted, searing the remaining hellhounds that failed to leave in time.

Apollo turned his attention to his child, bloodied and bruised. He had to quell the rage that threatened to bubble over.

"Chiron, sunshine? It's just me, you're safe now." Knelt down to his level, Apollo opened his arms, and that seemed enough for Chiron. He tackled Apollo, tears quickly staining his chiton.

"Father, I was so scared! I'm so sorry I should've never said those things! I'm so sorry, I'm so so sorry..."

He cradled Chiron, taking his blubbered apologies, raking his fingers through his ruined hair.

"It's okay, my dear centaur," Pressing soft kisses on the top of head, "I love you so much. I'm sorry it took me so long to find you."

Together, they cried, taking every moment to reassure each other that they were okay.

Apollo walked home that day with a newly healed sleeping centaur, and if he curled up next to his son, pressing tender kisses to his forehead and mumbling sweet nothings, then none would be the wiser.

▪︎▪︎☆▪︎▪︎

Bonus:

Watching them sleep

Demeter: are you thinking what I'm thinking?

Persephone: that we should totally draw a sketch and give it to the muses to paint?

Demeter: yes