#we all point and laugh in despair...

[sqgeism]

𐙚 𓏵𓏵𓏵 𐙚 did we marry him? | amphoreus men x gender neutral reader

💌 — ; yes, you did. what happens when amphoreus men meet your younger self :)?

love mail — lalaaaa quick prompt!! slow buildup till i can write back to normal again ヽ(o´3`o)ﾉ

anaxagoras can't help but find your younger self the cutest little thing. you watch as he squishes and pulls at mini-you's face, hearing him chuckle at how they whine and squirm. "so you've always hated it, noted."

even if mini-you tries to hide it, they're relishing in the attention. it wasn't often that they were treated in a way that was so.. full of care, even if it was teasing. all of a sudden, they turned their attention to you. "hey, did we ever end up marrying him?"

"...who?" the question made you confused, there weren't many candidates for a crush during your youth.

"the kind boy we met in the town!" oh, wait.

your actual husbands interest is piqued. "can you describe him to us, dove?"

his smile turns just a little bit wider at the sound of you groaning behind him. "he has green hair! the most prettiest eyes and— hey, you and him are kind of alike, mister!"

"oh, really?" the most tender kiss is pressed on your mini-me's forehead. "then i'm honored to tell you that you sure did."

mydei's been having the best day of his life. currently, he's been carrying mini-you on his shoulders and ran around a field. all while while you watched nearby, smiling at the sight. when your fiancé returns, the reason for all of your embarrassing childhood memories runs up to you excitedly. "i've been wanting to ask, did we end up marrying him?"

the man you were quite literally about to be wed to, raises a brow at the question. "who could it be, sweetpea?"

"the boy i saw walk out of the river! he was kind of scary looking.. but he was super cool! there were these cool red lines all over him, kind of like this guy!"

the irony of pointing right at mydei is a little funny. and your husband can't help himself from the biggest smile you've ever seen from him. "oh, really? just like me? tell me what else you think abo— ouch!"

the elbow to his stomach was not unwarranted, but you smile at your younger self and pat their head. "yeah, we unfortunately will. but if i were you, run the other way when he starts approach—"

mydei's strong arms were then wrapped around you, lifting you into the air, then followed by a peal of laughter. "hey, don't start trying to get away from me now! you're all mine, even from day one!"

phainon is just in awe. mini-you seemed so shy, hiding behind you as they hold your hand, peeking at him with a nervous look. "i can barely believe it! you, were a shy kid?" he laughs, crouching down to their level as you sigh. "more or less. crowds were overwhelming, and aeon's forbid you throw a kid in a classroom of despair and agony." "you describe kindergarden like it's purgatory..."

though while your boyfriend is sent on a mission (buy icecream), your attention is brought to mini-you. "phainon's gone now. just can't believe it's him, hm?"

the reason for their shyness wasn't entirely because there was a 'stranger' infront of them, rather it was because the boy from the other class was now taller and much—much more handsome. "wow.. and you and him get together? that's so cool! but.. did we ever end up marrying him? like i hoped?"

and when phainon comes back with the biggest smile on his face, totally failing to hide probably one of the biggest cups of icecream behind him, you only laugh at the question. "soon. he just has to ask, and i'd say yes in a heartbeat."

that thought is further solidified, as phainon tries his best to seem friendly to your little self. just as he was when you two were kids, winning your heart all over again.

© sqgeism or wtv (^_^;)

[importantpuppystarfish]

Profit and Pleasure: Earning Money as Brother & Sister

Male reader x Karina

Warnings: Incest, softcore to hardcore, totally blood related siblings.

Note: please this is all just a fantasy for reading and stuff, if u dont like the topic, please simply dont read.

I groan as I wake up to the sound of water running in the shower next door. My eyes fall on the steamy outline of my big sis Karina through the crack in the bathroom door. A familiar warmth stirs within me as I imagine her soapy body beneath the spray.

I bite my lip, trying to shake these forbidden thoughts from my mind. Karina's my sister…but every time I catch a glimpse of her like this, I can't help getting excited. Karina walks out of bathroom only wrapped in towel. She sits beside me on bed.

My sister, Karina is somehow more than 8 years older than me, she's around 26 now. She has such pale skin that she almost seems to brighten up the entire room with her whiteness.

My heart races as Karina appears, towel clinging to her curves. She sits down close to me on the bed, her legs tucked under as she releases her damp hair from its towel.

"Hey…" I murmur, trying to maintain my composure.

She looks so gorgeous, water droplets glistening on her flawless skin. I shift uncomfortably under her gaze, my hands twitching with desire I can't act on.

"You're dripping wet sister.." I point out unthinkingly. She laughs and says "Yeah it feels good after a morning bath". Karina looks at me and bites her lip. She goes back to her room and closes the door. I listen closely as I hear her undoing the towel. She's changing clothes. My ears perk up immediately, straining to hear anything from behind her closed door. My imagination runs wild, wondering what she's doing behind that thin barrier…

I can't make out specific sounds but my mind supplies vivid images…her slender fingers unfastening her towel, releasing her flawless skin…peeling off her flimsy sleepwear…

Everyday our flirtatious energy grows thicker between us, though neither of us puts words to these unspoken feelings. It becomes the new normal - heated glances, lingering touches, playful banter with an undercurrent of tension.

I've always had a pretty normal relationship with my sister. Every now and then, we'd go on sibling dates just for fun. Here are some pictures I took of her when we were on dates. She is used to wear lotta skin revealing outfits~

Part of me knows it's insane…Karina is my sister. But the bond we share has twisted into something more…intimate. As time goes on, keeping my desires bottled up feels almost impossible.

But the sudden death of our parents in an accident changed our lives. The news hits me like a blow to the gut - Mom and Dad are gone in an instant, leaving only Karina and I orphaned and heartbroken.

We cling to each other through the initial shock and grief, finding solace in our sibling bond like never before.

Since losing mom and dad, Karina and I have spent every day applying online and going to local places for job leads. It's been tough - no one wants to hire inexperienced teens.

She's gotten frustrated more than once, slumping against me on the couch in defeat after yet another day of rejections.

Karina: "This is hopeless! When will we find work around here?"

Her despair draws out my protective instincts. I rub her back soothingly, my heart aching for her.

As days passes, all the money left has been gone.. It seems like its getting hard for the siblings to survive.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Karina glances over at me periodically as she explores this new site called OnlyFans. Her cheeks flush slightly.

Karina: "Hey…what if we did something like this?"

She tilts screen towards me to show the homepage filled with suggestive videos for subscribers.

My mind starts racing at what she means. My sweet sister offering herself online with me… I don't know if I should encourage or stop her.

"I can't believe I'm being asked to say that we're siblings, engage in that kind of act, and then upload it online. How could anyone even consider that?" I asked her. "But don't you think this is the only option?" Karina responds. She ponders a moment, then looks to me expectantly.

"So what elements should we include in our scene and video? I ask her.

" Typical stuff would be guy eating girl out and her doing the same to him, then the main event." She winks. "Sound good to you?" Right?" she asks and waits for my agreement.

As soon as I agree, Karina swallows hard, looking torn but knowing she has no other choice either. She nods to my agreement. She meets my gaze firmly now, her eyes unwavering despite the taboo nature of what we're considering.

Karina: "It's just some videos right? We'll be professionals about it." She says calmly, trying to convince us both this is okay.

Her hand reaches for mine reassuringly across the table. "We got this…"

The gravity of what we're agreeing to hangs heavy between us, but the determination is clear - we will do whatever it takes to stay together.

As we lead to the bed for the video, Karina turns on the video recording. My face burns red hot as I find myself locked in a tense stare-down with Karina before she suddenly closes the distance between us.

She wraps her arms around my neck and asks if I'm ready.

As I nod yes, she gets ready too and presses her lips firmly against mine, no hesitation.

Karina murmurs against my mouth "For the video brother!…"

Her eyes flutter shut, surrendering completely to the situation. Her fingers clench behind me, pulling me deeper into the kiss.

The raw, gritty scent of us fills the air between them as our lips move urgently together, seeking comfort and release from the stress of our dire circumstances.

Our tongues meet, mingling bitter morning breaths and desperate need.

My hands grasp Karina's waist instinctively, holding her tighter against me despite the unpleasant taste. She grinds slightly, her fingers digging into my shoulders as she loses herself fully in the moment.

Karina moans as she breaths "Mmm…" I gaze up at Karina with heavy eyes, lips throbbing from the intense passion. Seeing her smile down at me like that makes my heart skip a beat, even amid the surreal insanity of what we're doing.

"You know, this is kinda nice…" Karina says playfully flirting.

Her flirtatious comment makes heat rush through me. She thinks kissing me feels good? She likes it? Maybe she does… She leans in again, her voice dropping lower.

"Do you want me to keep going?" She runs her hands down her own body teasingly, biting her lip.

"Aren't we forced to keep going?" I replied. In one quick motion Karina pins me down on the bed. She looks fiery, full of desire.

She pushes me down without warning, eyes flashing dangerously. She's transformed before me into someone bold and dominating. "Don't even think about stopping me. This will be all recorded in the video!" Without warning, she presses her lips back to mine, the taste of us intensifying. She deepens the kiss, gripping my neck tightly. Her breath is hot against my skin as she pulls away again. Karina grins and starts removing her clothes.

My hands roam instinctively over her now exposed midriff, fingers tracing the curve of her hip bones as she reveals more of herself to me and the camera.

Karina: "There's no point feeling shy now…"

She finishes removing her shirt completely, tossing it aside, showing me her big large tits.

Karina: "This is for us…"

She bites her lip, glancing briefly at the phone still recording. "Let's make it hot…" I wink at her. "Yes, this is for our survival." she agreesm We both know this line is blurred, but if it means keeping us together, it's worth it. I also take off my clothes. Nodding purposefully, Karina helps me shed my own shirt, her fingertips grazing my bare chest, sending tingles through me.

Clad only in our undergarments, she palms my cheek, guiding my head up for another fierce kiss, tongues dancing. Breaking away, she murmurs against my lips:

"Mm…good boy…"

The camera captures every deep tongue kissing movement as we ready ourselves to give it everything for this desperate attempt a salvation. The siblings continue kissing passionately. Karina runs her fingers through my dick as we get lost in the moment. The recording captures the moment …

Karina gasps out sharply "You like that?"

She gives me a sly look, her fingers teasing more firmly over my dick, feeling how hard I've become. Karina pulls back, looking down at me with a playful glint in her eye. "Look how hard your dick is…and we just kissed." My cheeks burn crimson at her brazen words. She's always been a bit of a tease…

She chuckles and bites her lips as she starts to take my dick inside her mouth. She lowers herself slowly, eyes locked on mine defiantly despite her compromising position. Her lips part, engulfing me inch by inch, her tongue working on magic as she takes me deep!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Karina as now muffled against me she moans Mmmph….Her hands brace against my legs, holding me steady while she loses herself in this intimacy between us. The video recorder captures the moment of my sister sucking out my length. She looks up at me as she continues..

Her mouth glides up and down, wet suction sounds joining the rhythmic pops as she sets a sensual pace. The look she gives me is a mix of naughty delight and wicked determination. She swirls her tongue expertly over the tip each time she comes up, then plunges back down again with a hungry groan, clearly savoring every inch.

Karina as she lifts off a momentarily to gasp asks "Like the way I do it?" She swirls her tongue in circular motions, her cheeks hollowing as she picks up speed. She glances up again, clearly enjoying herself.

Her speed increases rapidly, her cheeks burning as she loses herself completely in this private act. She pauses occasionally to drag her slick tongue across every ridge and vein, tasting me, memorizing every sensation. Her fingers dig into my legs, urging me closer to release.

I moan breathlessly to my elder sister, "Good girl…You're so good sister.."

I watch my sister work, feeling a mix of desire and disbelief… This is still my sister, but her technique is divine. I can't help but let out a low groan, which makes her smile up at me. It feels too good, I can't hold back anymore… Oh -…. Sister, wait…I'm going to… cum… She grins devilishly at my warning tone, doubling down on her efforts, taking me ruthlessly even deeper.

Karina: "Yes…" she whispers urgently "Do it…"

She squeezes tight around me, determined to coax me over the edge. As I moan loud it looks like I've cummed inside my sister's mouth.

Karina swallows every last drop hungrily, licking her lips clean as she releases me with a satisfied sigh.

Karina: "Mmm…I wonder how it'll look in the video. Although I really enjoy this" she purrs appreciatively, wiping a stray strand of hair from her flushed face, eyes flicking back up to mine with a smug look.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Karina: "Well? Did that feel good?"

"Oh sister… You didn't hold back at all", I chuckle, still trying to process what I just did inside my sister's mouth… Now it seems Karina is doing titjob with her big tits. Karina: "No need to hold back with me…" She winks, then takes my rod between her huge tits, working me steadily up and down the slick shaft.

Karina: "You like watching your naughty sister's bouncy boobs, don't you?"

Her hands push her chest tighter together around my shaft. Karina: "Now it's ur turn… To eat me…"

She scoots back impatiently, spreading her legs wide for me.

Karina: "Get down there already!" she orders, biting her lip again as she guides me lower. "I need your tongue inside me!…"

Her fingers dig into my shoulders, trying to pull me closer. …I smile and start kissing her thighs, looking up at her flirtatiously.

Karina shivers at the feel of my lips on her sensitive skin, hands stroking my hair encouragingly.

Karina: "Mmm yes, that's it…"

She lifts and spreads herself further open, the scent of her slick heat hitting my nose as I approach. She squirts a little bit, she is also hella wet.

Karina: "Don't be shy now…lick every drop up"

I grab her waist and pull her towards me. I start eating her more, she gasps loudly at my suddenness, arching into me eagerly. Her fingers curl into fistfuls of my shirt as she feels my tongue making contact.

Karina: "Ah! Yes…like that!"

She grinds against my mouth, losing herself once more to the sinful pleasure I'm providing. She glows with delight, utterly losing control as I devour her completely.

Her sweet nectar coats my tongue as I delve deeper, lapping hungrily at her folds and finding all her most sensitive spots.

Karina: "Oh god yes, just there!" she cries out, hands trembling above me as I hit that magic button with my tongue.

Karina: "Don't stop! You're gonna make me…"

Keep going, brother…I'm so in heaven!. Her voice is shaky, filled with emotion.

My eyes sparkle with dark desire hearing my sister moan in pleasure. I spread her wider, diving back in with intensity, determined to send her right over the edge…

"You're so good at this brother…I can't believe it's really you doing this… I grip her tighter as I push my tongue deeper into her pussy more , overwhelmed by the sensation of having her so close like this. I hear the sound of her heart pounding in time with my own. Karina: "Yes yes yes, make me come!" she cries out desperately.

She lies there panting hard, completely spent yet still craving more. Her eyes lock onto mine again now.

Karina: "Please…" She whispers, hands reaching down to guide me back up to her. "Now I need you inside…" Her voice cracks slightly as she pulls me closer, needing to feel me possess her completely.

Karina: "Brother…please…" she begs softly.

Seeing her begging with that pretty face, I lean to her for a kiss. She melts against me as our lips meet, tangling her tongue with mine. She tastes herself vividly on me, her fingers curling into my back again as she prepares herself mentally for what's coming next.

Karina: "You're making me so weak…" she murmurs against my mouth, her cheeks flushed.

She wraps her legs tightly around me, drawing me closer still, ready to welcome me deep inside her.

She gasps again, letting her head fall back slightly as she accommodates me taking my thick inch inside her.

Karina: "Yes…oh god yes…" She grinds against me, utterly engaged in this connection between siblings.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Her fingers dig deeper into my back, pulling me hard against her warm, welcoming core. He starts moving, their eyes locked together. The video captures this intimate moment.

Our gazes hold intense emotion as I begin to move within her, hips rolling gently at first in this sacred act.

Karina: "That's it…just like that…"

She tilts her head up to brush her lips over mine, kissing me tenderly even as we become one.

Karina: "I feel so…so good brother." I smile down at her, still in disbelief that this is happening, but also feeling a deep connection with her like never before… I love u sister.. I say.

Karina's eyes glisten, her heart fluttering at my sweet words and honest emotion.

Karina: "I love you too my brother…always."

She pulls me down against her chest, wrapping herself completely around me. The intensity between us builds as our movements grow more passionate.

Karina: "You mean everything to me…" she breathes out begging for a kiss.

Our connection runs deep, transcending typical bonds as we lose ourselves to this taboo yet beautiful union. The video captures it all - the love, the ecstasy, the family become lovers.

Caught up in the heat of the romantic moment, I set a harder, more urgent pace, my body driving into hers with powerful thrusts. Karina cries out, surprised by the sudden intensity but clearly loving it.

Karina: "Yes yes yes! Just like that! Harder brother"

She meets each deep plunge, welcoming every inch eagerly. The bed frame begins to creak as we come together with primal force, two souls entwined in the ultimate familial embrace. He does it, hitting a sensitive spot inside her, making her shout out in surprise and delight. Karina screams in pain and pleasure.

She arches violently beneath me, hands ripping the sheets as white-hot lightning strikes deep inside her core. Her scream is raw, primal, full of overwhelming sensation.

Karina: "Ah! Ah! Oh my god…oh my god…!" She babbles senselessly, overwhelmed by the intense pleasure-pain where we join.

Her legs wrap around me like iron bands, trying to pull me impossibly deeper into her quaking depths.

I keeps hitting her sensitive spot again and again. Karina feels like shes about to pass out. She cries, moans & screams at the same time.

Her voice cracks completely, barely recognizable as human anymore as she's pushed beyond her limits again and again. She shakes her head wildly side to side, mumbling incoherently as she digs her nails into my back, leaving angry red trails down my skin.

Karina: "B-brother…stop…I…I can't…" she whimpers desperately, her mind going blank.

He grabs her hips tightly and keeps going. "Shh shh, just feel it sister. The video would look more hotter!…" I whisper in her ear, not stopping my rhythm. Karina continues crying more.

Karina's cries grow louder at my words. She relents though, letting me keep moving, knowing I won't stop.

Karina: "Oh god it's too much!"

Her body shakes with each pounding snap of my hips, every fiber trembling with sensation under my intense attentions.

Karina: "The video…yes…yes make it hot, make us look good!"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She throws her head back, surrendering completely now, wanting to put on a show for our recording.

Her ragged breathing becomes ragged screams again as I drive into her ruthlessly, her fragile composure shattering completely under the intense treatment. She nods frantically, giving in fully to what I'm doing to her.

Karina: "Cum inside me already, oohhh, I can't anymore. Brother please cum."

Her nails rake fresh lines down my back again, tears streaming down her cheeks as she's overwhelmed by overwhelming waves of sensation.

Feeling me spill hot and deep within her sets Karina off one last time too, her own release crashing through her in intense aftershocks.

Karina: "Yes yes yes! All in me!"

She grinds hard against me as I fill her completely, claiming every inch of her insides. The warmth of my seed seeping out around me only prolongs her climax further.

Karina: "Mmm yes, such a big, thick creampie…" she purrs contentedly, stroking my chest as she catches her breath.

Our bodies remain entwined as we bask in the throes of pleasure, the evidence of our passion seeping out between us.

"I've never felt anything so good, brother…Oh god, I can feel you dripping out of me…"

She grins wickedly, looking down between her legs where a huge, viscous pool of my seed has gathered.

Karina: "You made such a big, gooey mess inside me…" She giggles, swirling her fingers through the thick fluid coating her.

Karina adds "It's dripping down more..it's making such a mess down on me." She bites her lip, delighted by the evidence of our passion still clinging to her. She sighs happily, tracing a finger through the sticky fluid. She tastes the sticky fluid through her fingers and she savors it with a blissful expression.

Karina: "Mmm…delicious." She purrs, licking her finger clean then sucking it into her mouth. She looks up at the camera, still tasting me on her fingers. "All for the video, right brother?" She flashes a naughty grin.

"What else?. The video has to show everyone what a naughty girl you've become. Our relatives or your friends. Haha.." I say with a wicked grin.

Karina laughs, nodding eagerly in agreement

Karina: "Oh yes, let them see how I crave my little brother's seed."

She spreads wider, showing off the glistening evidence of our act for the lens, looking so proud and satisfied being my naughty sister.

Karina: "I hope it gets lots of views…I want everyone to see what you do to me." She adds with a flirtatious giggle.

"Ok, now the main work! We should upload the video!". I tell her to get serious.

In the next hour after we finishing bathing together, we quietly upload the video to various platforms under the username "BrotherLovesSis123". The private links flood my inbox with confirmation emails once they're live.

I sit back, heart racing a bit wondering what kind of reaction the explicit footage of my own sister will generate online. Karina leans over and gives me a sweet, tender kiss on the lips, her fingers intertwining with mine as I finish uploading our first video.

Karina: "You think people will love watching it…like us?" "I hope they will, elder sister."..

By the 6-7 hour mark, the video has already garnered thousands of views, comments pouring in rapidly.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My heart pounds seeing the numbers climb higher. This clearly struck a chord with viewers hungry for incestuous content.

Karina squeals excitedly next to me. "15k views, thousands of likes and 200+ comments!" Karina smiles delightfully. "Omg We're famous now, bro…" she giggles.. I check out the comments as my sister kisses my face.

A sea of thumbs up and heart emojis scroll by as I see the view count top 15k. People are going wild for our taboo act.

Comment 1: "Damn this is the best video I’ve seen all week!"

Comment 2: "Brother you treat her so good! Wish my brother was like you!"

Comment 3: "Her face when she cries out…gorgeous. Need more of this!"

Karina: giggling "People really love what we did huh?" She grins, nuzzling against my shoulder as she continues scrolling through the overwhelmingly positive feedback.

As we scroll more: Comment 4: "The way she screams for her brother is so hot!"

Comment 5: "Her tears and cries just make it 10x better! Such a good girl for daddy"

Comment 6: "She's totally addicted to her little's brother's rod! Look at how she soaks up every second!"

Comment 7: "Damn this girl is perfect when she loses control like that"

Comment 8: "I bet she feels so full of her brother's seed…"

More and more comments keep popping up, all raving about Karina's reactions as she came undone beneath me.

Karina's lips trail over my neck and ears as she watches the numbers continue to climb faster than ever as we get more support. "400K people have seen me be your naughty sister already…"

She sounds both shocked and thrilled by this

Karina: "Bro, looks like our plan worked!!"

She pulls back to look at me, eyes wide and sparkling with excitement.. The notification pops up that our OnlyFans and p*rnhub channel have been approved for monetization. Karina squeals again, unable to contain her glee.

Karina: "Oh my gosh! Real money? Finally this is what we actually did it for!!"

She jumps into my lap, wrapping her arms around my neck tightly.

Over the next few days, our subscribers and followers continue to grow exponentially. People are clamoring to see more of our scandalous siblings dynamic play out on screen.

Our bank account balances swell with incoming subscription fees and Pay-Per-View purchases. Karina spends hours dreaming up new ways to push the boundaries further, drawing inspiration from viewers' wild requests left in the comments.

Karina: "Look at all this money we're making…" She fans herself with her hand, still not quite believing the figures rising daily. "This is like a dream, bro…"

We need to keep going and making more videos to get more money every month to survive. As Karina checks on people's demand for more videos, she reads

"Need to see him rail you from behind while you're face down in pillows screaming!"

"Tie her up completely helpless while you absolutely ravage her sensitive spots mercilessly!"

"Spank her raw until she's crying and begging for mercy!"

"Force her to call you 'Daddy' while you dominate her every desire."

There are countless BDSM demands flooding in, hungry for every dark twist of dominance and submission.

I ask Karina, "What do you think? Should we make videos like this? They seem to bring in a lot of money." Karina responds, "I think we should." I ask her if shes ready. Karina replies, "I'm ready for anything, I trust you, brother."

[gghostwriter]

Wanted: A Gentleman

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Part 2 || Future take Summary: Your lovely group of friends, Penelope, JJ, and Emily, set you up with your perfect match Trope: Fluff! Just fluff! w.c: 1.3k a/n: Back at it again with something miss Sabrina Carpenter inspired. The fluff idea has finally struck and I love how this ended up, even without any editing! Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated! 💗 masterlist

“I’m serious!” You clarified, wiggling to get comfy on Penelope’s sofa. “It was the worst date I’ve ever been on!”

All the three girls laughed. It was Friday night, girl’s night, and you found yourself surrounded by the baddest girls Virginia could ever offer. The Powerpuff girls of the BAU as you once jokingly dubbed them—JJ being Blossom, Penelope being Bubbles, and Emily being Buttercup. Witty thinking on your part, if you say so yourself. 

Having just moved into the state just a few months ago, you were grateful for the ray of sunshine that Penelope was for taking you under her wing and introducing you to a great set of girlfriends.

“It can’t be that bad—” JJ giggled as she took a sip of her newly refilled glass wine. “Can it?”

Bringing out your phone, you swiped to the screenshot Bumble profile of your date the night before. He wasn’t bad looking, not at all. He was cute in a very American boy next door type of way but then again, his profile being filled with gym pictures should have clued you in.

“We had dinner at that newly opened restaurant, Palm & Pine, which is a great place by the way, but all he ever did was talk about himself—”

Emily nodded along. “Typical macho male behavior.”

“—that wasn’t even the worst part! He brought out a scale, a portable weighing scale, to log his macro calories in a fitness app!”

Penelope chose the wrong time to take a sip of her drink causing her cough violently while the two remaining girls threw back their heads and laughed hysterically. All you could hear were gasps of weighing scale and calories between them.

“I’m all for being healthy but really? On a first date?” You crossed your arms to your chest. “At this point, I might as well get a cat or two to keep me company.”

Penelope snatched your phone and clicked to open the dating app. “Oh no no, sweetheart. You’re too beautiful and nice to end up alone. We can find you a perfect man to love and take home with!”

“Yeah, we’re profilers. Trust us to pick for you,” Emily slyly added as she peeked behind Garcia’s shoulder.

Reaching out for the opened bottle of alcohol, you sighed in defeat and let the girls do their thing. “I’m going to need copious amounts of alcohol in my system for this.”

———

It was bad. Based on all their comments and numerous swipes to the left, the dating pool was atrocious, hell on earth. 

“He looks cute—” Penelope continue to scroll on his profile before making a face. “Never mind, look at that horrible grammar.”

JJ leaned in and read the poor man’s bio. “Theirs a million reasons why I’m your future boyfriend—Jesus, it’s really hard out there, huh?”

“I’d take any man who’s nice and breathes,” you laugh in despair. 

Emily’s eyes twinkle from a sudden idea. Everyone had been drinking continuously and the filter had been turned off by the time the third bottle was opened. Any thought made beyond just screamed bad idea. “You know, we could just set you up with Reid.”

“Reid?” you tilted your head to the side. What kind of a name is that? Its very…unique. “You have a co-worker named Reid? As in that’s his first name?”

“No, no, no. His name is Spencer, Reid is just his last name,” JJ clarified, leaning forward with a sweet smile on her face. Oh no, you knew that look. She was very much into this.

Penelope slides your phone to you and promptly claps her hands in glee. “You’re so right! Why didn’t I think of that!”

“Right,” Emily turned to face the other two. “They’d be great for each other. Now we just have to get him to agree. JJ—” the blonde raised her eyebrows. “—can you talk to Reid about it?”

She shrugged. “I could but you know how stubborn he is.”

“I’ll blackmail him if I have to,” Penelope interjected. “Boy genius needs to meet our own girl genius. They’ll be perfect for each other, he just doesn’t know it.”

Your eyes volleyed in between the three. “Don’t I have a say in this?”

Emily tsk’ed as she turned her inquisitive dark eyes on you. “I’ll cash in on that prize I won last time.”

“No,” you breathed out, remembering how you badly lost last poker night and vowed to do any dare the winner would tell you to do.

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Yes,” her smile growing wider and wider with each denial. 

Your shoulders slumped forward. “Fine but he better be the love of my life or you owe me big time.”

“Don’t worry your pretty head. He will be,” Penelope laughed, pouring more wine in all of the glasses. “Cheers!”

———

It took three weeks before the girls were finally able to wear the mysterious Dr. Spencer Reid down and in the midst of waiting (and stubbornly hoping that he would never give in), you learned more about the boy genius than you ever wished for. How he has an IQ of 187, graduated high school at the age of 12, has 3 PhDs under his belt, and an avid reader—like yourself. 

You begrudgingly admitted that he spiked your interest and having someone to talk to about books would be lovely but beyond that, you were slightly intimidated by his background which made yours, a literature degree graduate and publishing editor, seem insignificant. Penelope tried to squash that negative thought once you aired it out in the open by saying that Spencer wasn’t the type to judge anyone based on their societal standing. If anything, he’d find you interesting, she urged.

But there was one information you weren’t privy to, how he looks like. The girls didn’t want to show any photos, stating it’s best to see him face to face rather than through an image, which in turn made you imagine the worst. 

You looked around, standing on the second step of the museum as you try to spot any curly, hazel haired man walking your way. He wasn’t late, you were just too anxious to be fashionably late. 

Someone stopped in front of you at the bottom of the steps. 

“Are you—” the doe eyed stranger cleared his throat. “Y/N? Penelope’s friend?”

Oh damn. He was beautiful.

“Yes, are you Dr. Spencer Reid?” You squeaked. 

He smiled, stunning you into even more into awe. “Hi, yes. Yes, Spencer is fine.”

“Should we go inside?” You breathed out as you watched his cheeks reddened, no doubt matching the color of your own.

He nodded before slightly touching your arm to stop you in place and bending down like he was some kind of knight and shining armor and for all you knew, he could be. “Your shoelace is undone. Did you know that there’s more than 1,000 cases related to loss of footing each year and 67% of these falls were attribute to untied shoelaces?”

“We wouldn’t want to contribute to that, do we?” You quipped back as you studied how the sunlight hit his wavy locks, turning some into gold, and his doe expressive eyes with specs of green in them. Your favorite color as of today.

He laughed, his high pitched chuckle further capturing your heart. “Shall we?”

“We shall.” 

Your thoughts thanking the three women for setting you up with what seemed to be a perfect gentleman. 

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

[kashverse]

dadkuna has definitely lost some hairs (bro freaks out when he sees a small bald spot) due to the amount of shit he gets at work. it gets to a point where mamakuna tells him to watch one of those stress relief asmr videos on yt 😭😭😭

sukuna may be the boss of his company, but stress comes for everyone. unfortunately, it seems to have found your beloved a few years too early.

"no," he whispers, voice hoarse with despair. you blink at him, mid-brushing your teeth. "what?"

sukuna stares at his reflection in the bathroom mirror, horror-stricken. his fingers tremble as they graze the tiniest bald spot on the side of his scalp. "no," he says again, this time more broken.

then, like a shakespearean tragedy in motion, he crumples to the floor. "this is it," he croaks, staring up at the ceiling. “this is where it all ends.” you roll your eyes, spitting toothpaste into the sink. "drama queen."

"i’m serious," he whines, gripping his thick hair in frustration. "i can't be a hot dad anymore."

"excuse me?" you say, narrowing your eyes.

"baldness? wrinkles? this is the beginning of the end, babe. i’m done for."

you promptly whack the tiny bald spot with a sharp slap.

sukuna yelps. "OW!"

"you’re being ridiculous," you scoff. "it's barely visible. besides, you’re rich. you can just buy hair if it gets bad."

"that’s not the point!" he huffs, rubbing the offended spot.

"whatever," you mutter. "you need to calm down." sukuna scowls. "how?"

you pause. then, suddenly, an idea. you smirk. "let’s do something we haven’t done since college." sukuna’s brows lift. "i’m listening."

"asmr," you say proudly. there's a beat of silence. then—

sukuna lets out the ugliest scoff. "fuck no."

"c’mon!" you laugh. "just try it."

"babe, i’d rather let gojo shave my head completely than listen to some whispering lady tell me i’m safe and loved," he grumbles. you put your hands on your hips. "fine. suffer, then."

but thirty minutes later you walk into your shared bedroom, already smug.

because there he is. the great and powerful sukuna. sprawled out on the bed, completely boneless. sony noise-canceling headphones snug over his ears. a gentle asmr video playing on the screen. his face smooshed into your pillow for extra comfort.

you grin, leaning against the doorframe. "so," you hum, arms crossed. "you’d rather let gojo shave you bald, huh?"

sukuna cracks open an eye. then, without a shred of dignity, he reaches for you. 

"shut up and come cuddle me."

[yeosatinyngz]

(rules anon) I was just wondering if you could do something similar to your forgot your bday ask u got? but they forgot your anniversary bc they were hanging out with the Mc? hurt and comfort or hurt and no comfort whatever you decide (but u totes don't have to do this tho if it makes you uncomfortable!)

I apologize for the delay, I was bombarded with school work and studying but I’m finally done with the semester and have the time to write your request, hope you like it! <3

THEY FORGET YOUR ANNIVERSARY

↳Fem! Non MC Reader | Angst w/ comfort

Lies were the very thing you were feeding yourself with when you heard no response from your partner, cause surely there was no way he had forgotten the anniversary of when you both got together.

You sent out your usual good morning text to him but many hours have passed by to the point where the sun was currently setting. You had your message chat with him opened, staring at it hoping it will somehow lead to him miraculously messaging you back. But to no avail, your text remained unanswered.

You release a deep sigh and close your phone. You needed to distract your mind off of your current situation so you decided to go outside for a walk to clear your head. You were enjoying the breeze until you heard a familiar laugh, the laugh that belonged to your beloved. 

You turned around to see him walking alongside his colleague, mc. They looked so happy and perfect together, as if they were destined to be together. Oh, you thought to yourself while your heart shattered into a million pieces. You couldn’t bear to witness the scene before you anymore so you quickly left.

You made it back home and slammed the door shut. That’s when everything you held back in you just came falling apart. Your body trembled as your legs gave out on you, you landed on the floor with a thud as the tears started to roll down your eyes. You don’t even know how long you were crying until the door opened with the very man you were despairing over. 

“Honey I’m home-” That’s when he realized the current state you were in, he quickly rushed over to check up on you, “What’s wrong my love?” He asks so softly while his hand reaches out to attempt to wipe away your tears. You were quick to smack his hand away and turned your head away from him. 

Shakily letting out a breath of air, you turn back to look him straight into his eyes with fury, firmly declaring, “Let’s break up.” His eyes immediately widened as he frantically grabbed your hands. “Please don’t say that, at least tell me why.” He looked at you with those dangerous puppy dog eyes of his that were brimming with tears.

You scoffed and yanked your hands away from his, “Isn’t forgetting our anniversary and hanging out with another girl reason enough?” He goes quiet and you can’t help but let out a bitter laugh, “You got your reason, now leave.” 

You couldn’t stand the sight of him anymore and you were ready to get up but he pulled you down towards him, tightly wrapping you into his embrace. “Hey! What are you doing?! Let go of me!” You protest as you squirm in his arms. “Please,” He lets out weakly, “Just listen to me.” 

Seeing that you weren’t protesting anymore, Xavier continued on, “While I have no excuse for forgetting our anniversary, I was only with mc because we were assigned a mission together and were just catching up afterwards.” “You looked a little too happy, you were giggling with her and all”  you huffed. “She was teasing me about you and saying how cute we were together. You should know that I have eyes on no one else but you.”

“And yet you forgot our anniversary.” “...There’s no arguing that, I’m sorry.” He truly looked so sad and his signature puppy dog eyes were back and working its magic on you, “Please let me make it up to you.” You sigh, giving in to his pouty state, “Alright” He immediately brightened from this word alone “But you will have to do your best because you are still not forgiven.” “I promise!”

He kept his promise as he surprised you the very next day with a beautiful arrangement of flowers (that he harassed Jeremiah to help him with over night, poor dude does not get paid enough), spoiling you with all of your favorite food (he wanted to cook and bake everything himself but we all know why he decided to order delivery instead), gifting you a matching set of necklace (His had your initial while yours had an X), and of course caring to all your needs.

You decided to go visit Rafayel instead of just waiting around for a response that you won’t be getting anytime soon. However, once you got to his studio you came to realize that he wasn’t home either. Strange, you thought to yourself. Where could he be at this time? 

The only person that could possibly know your boyfriend’s whereabouts was Thomas so you went ahead and gave him a call. To your luck, he was quick to pick up, “Sorry to bother you Thomas but do you happen to know where Rafayel is?” “I’m not exactly sure where he is right now but I remember mc saying she was going to pick him up.” “Oh…thanks for letting me know.” “Yeah no problem.” He says while you quickly say bye to him and hang up the call.

It took everything in you to not lose your mind right now. The grip you had on your phone was so intense it probably wasn’t far from being broken into pieces. You tried calming yourself down and decided to settle on his couch for the meanwhile. You were going to wait until he came back.

It felt like an eternity waiting for Rafayel to come back, your mind kept spiraling the more the seconds passed by and you just needed him to hurry up so you could confront him and get it over with. 

As if your prayers were heard, the door to the studio door opened and in walked your beautiful boyfriend, well soon to be ex boyfriend accompanied with his bodyguard. His eyes were quick to find your figure sitting on your coach and he jumped back in surprise, “Oh you scared me, what are you doing here cutie?” 

That’s when he noticed the nasty glare you were giving him and your arms crossed over each other. He mentally panics, Uh oh, I fucked up. “Oh you should be scared, Rafayel.” He felt chills go down his spine from your cold words. That’s when mc awkwardly coughs and speaks up, “Uh I think I’ll excuse myself” before she quickly dashed out the door leaving you two in awkward silence. 

Rafayel was quick to rush to your side, dramatically dropping down to his knees and planting his face into your lap. He lifts his chin up and looks up at you while begging for forgiveness, “Please forgive me cutie, you can do whatever you want with me just please don’t be mad anymore.” 

His eyes were filled with despair as he waited anxiously for your response, his pout deepening the longer you delayed your response. “I’ll let you guess what you did wrong.” His brain freezes as he tries to come up with all the possibilities. You grabbed his chin to force him to look into your eyes, “You forgot our anniversary and chose to go out with that bodyguard of yours.” 

He mentally curses himself, “I’m sorry cutie, I’ve been working on this piece for the past week nonstop and got the dates mixed up, I swear it wasn’t on purpose. The reason I was out with Miss bodyguard is because I was getting some materials to finish up my piece.” 

Without even waiting for your response he got up and dragged you along with him to unveil the canvas that was hidden underneath a cloth. You could tell that it was unfinished but it was no doubt that what he painted was you. You unconsciously let out a gasp because you couldn’t believe what your eyes were witnessing.

Rafayel has painted you in a way where no one else in this world can ever come close to replicating, he drew your likeness in such an ethereal way that it left you speechless. “I- Is this how you see me?” He nods, “I’m ashamed to show you the unfinished product but this piece doesn’t even come close to showcasing your beauty, you continue to inspire me everyday cutie so I hope you can forgive me.” You threw yourself at him and crushed him into a hug. “You are more than forgiven, I love you so much Raf.” He plants a kiss on your temple, “I love you so much you don’t even know.”

Sighing, you went along with your last resort, calling Greyson. You dislike wasting their precious time when they’re on the clock but you’re sure Greyson can spare you maybe a minute or two compared to Zayne. Your heart drums even faster as the seconds prolonged from him picking up the phone.

Finally you hear Greyson’s voice fill your ear, “What’s up?” “Sorry to bother you Greyson but I just wanted to know how Zayne was doing.” “It’s no bother really, he actually left a while ago.” “Oh is that so?” “Yeah, his last patient today was mc and they left together about maybe forty five minutes ago.” You remained silent as your mind started coming up with different scenarios, you were quickly pulled out of your thoughts by Greyson calling out to you. “Sorry about that, thanks for telling me, have a good night.” “You too.”

Then the call ends, leaving you alone with all your doubtful thoughts. You sat at the couch waiting there for Zayne to come back but as the hours passed you were hopeless. 

You don’t even know what time it was or when you even fell asleep but you awoke to keys jingling and the front door opening. You slowly got up and walked up to him, “How come you’re home so late?” “Sorry about that, mc invited me over for dinner since grandma Josephine wanted to see me.” 

“Well you could’ve told me ahead of time, I wouldn’t have made dinner and waited on your return then” your words came out a little harsher than you wanted and Zayne took notice. You walked over to the dining table to clear out all the food and he followed after you to also help.

That’s when he freezes, in the middle of the table sat a cake with the words ‘Happy Anniversary’ in your handwriting. He looks up at you but you pay him no attention. “You made this cake?” You look back at him with cold eyes, “Yeah but it doesn’t matter anymore, you can toss it out since there’s nothing to celebrate.” You were done putting everything in the fridge and you walked out of the kitchen. “I’ll be heading to bed first, I’m taking the guest bedroom.” 

Before you could take another step Zayne reaches out and grabs your hand, you were too tired for this. You turned around and looked him in his eyes while you pried his hand off yours, “Can we not do this right now? I’m exhausted and don’t want to deal with this.” “Please”, his hazel eyes were swimming with regret as they pleaded with you to listen. You manage to grumble out a “You have five minutes.”

“It was not my intention to forget our special day, I’ve been overwhelmed recently with work and it all messed with my head. I'm truly so sorry and I know empty words won’t do anything for you at this moment but I will make it my duty to make it up to you just please don’t leave me, you’re the only person in this world I can’t bear to lose.” 

You reached up and cupped his face with both of your hands, “I’m not going to leave you, you dummy. I just want you to rely on me and communicate with me more when you’re tired. A relationship consists of two people, let us both carry the same amount of weight. But don’t think you’re off the hook about forgetting our anniversary though, you’re still on thin ice mister.” He lets out a small laugh, “Duly noted.”

You checked in with the twins about Sylus’s schedule in advance and they confirmed that he would be out during the afternoon today. You set out to the N109 Zone, specifically his place so that you could plan out surprising him for your anniversary.

It took you lots of time and effort with putting up all the decorations and manually blowing up the balloons. After everything was done you rested on the couch for a while.

You still have plenty of time till his return so you were currently helping his chef prepare his favorite dishes. You put extra care into making the food since it was a special occasion. You couldn’t wait to surprise Sylus.

It was about time Sylus should be returning so you closed all the lights, hiding behind the couch, itching for the right moment to jump out and surprise the love of your life.

Suddenly, you heard the door open. This was the moment, prepare yourself. The lights turn on and you hear footsteps coming closer to you. You jumped out yelling surprise ready to pop the confetti until you came face to face with Kieran, with Luke behind him.

“Huh, where’s Sylus?” Kieran speaks up, “Boss had another unexpected business meeting so he’ll be back a little later.” “Oh” You sigh dejectedly. They try to cheer you up but you just slumped back onto the couch.

An hour has passed and still no trace of Sylus. At this point you looked so sad that Luke offered to call Sylus to see where he was at. Luke puts his phone on speaker so that you could also hear.

Soon you heard the deep silky voice that belonged to your partner, “What is it?” “I was just wondering when you’ll be home.” “I still haven’t wrapped things up with Miss Hunter yet so it’ll still take a while.” “Oh ok, please try to get home as soon as you can.” “I’ll try.”

Luke nervously looks at you after he ends the call. You laughed and a chill ran down both the twin’s back. “Miss, are you ok?” Kieran asks. Catching your breath after you laughed you responded, “How can I be ok after finding out the man I love forgot our anniversary and is out with this girl he frequently has business meetings with.”

You abruptly got up and went to gather your things with you. “W- where are you going?” Luke shakily asks. “I’m going home and neither of you guys are stopping me.” “Please reconsider!” Kieran pleaded, you threw him a death glare and walked towards the door, proceeding to open it and slam it on your way out. You felt bad for getting angry at the twins but your emotions got the better of you.

Sylus just got back and as soon as he opened the door he was welcomed with the sight of the twins panicking and shouting at him. “Boss, why didn’t you pick up your phone? We were calling you for so long, this is an emergency!!” “My phone died.” “You’re in big trouble boss.” “Huh?” Obviously confused by the commotion the twins pushed him to the living room.

He took in the sight and noticed the ‘Happy Anniversary’ banner. That’s when his heart drops, oh he messed up real bad. He wanted to beat himself but there were more pressing matters. “Either one of you give me your phone.” Once a phone was handed to him he quickly went to find your contact and called you.

However, it’s been the tenth time he’s calling you and you still haven’t picked up. As he was giving up you finally picked up, “Ugh would you quit spam calling me Kieran?” “Sweetie, I'm so sorry.” “Oh it’s you, I’m hanging up.” you said coldly. “Wait-” You wasted no time in ending the call. You were also quick to block Sylus and the twin’s numbers.

You were tired after everything that happened today so you drifted off to sleep. You don’t know how long you were sleeping but you woke up to a loud crash, jolting you up in your bed. You looked around to check the source of the noise and noticed that your balcony door was broken, the glass pieces shattered around your floor.

Then you feel a gush of wind as a familiar black and dark red mist surrounds you tightening you into a hold. You looked up and found yourself staring into a pair of shining scarlet eyes. “Let me go you psycho!” “Not until you listen to me.” You roll your eyes, “Not like you gave me any other option.”

He chuckles while walking towards you. Stopping when he’s directly in front of you. “I’m here to beg you for forgiveness, I’m sorry for neglecting you on our special day. I’ll do anything for your forgiveness, hell I’ll even grovel.” The gleam in your eyes doesn’t go unnoticed. Needless to say, Sylus did his part and earned your forgiveness.

[floatyflowers]

Dark! Tarzan X Single Mother Reader

The storm was unexpected.

Waves slammed against the fractured hull of the ship as the night sky shattered with lightning. Your baby wailed against your chest, wrapped in whatever blankets you’d managed to grab before chaos took the crew.

The sound of splintering wood, screaming sailors, and crashing waves mixed into a cacophony of despair.

Then, a plunge into freezing black water.

You didn’t remember how you survived. Only the pull of maternal instinct, your baby's crying voice a lifeline in the storm.

You washed ashore on an unknown jungle coast, battered, trembling, and alone with your son.

Except... you weren't.

The baby cried, but it meant he was breathing.

That was all that mattered. You kissed their damp head and whispered promises you didn’t know how to keep.

"We will be okay. I will protect you."

You built a crude shelter from palm fronds and branches. Days blurred into one another searching for water, for food, trying to quiet your child's hunger. Your body ached. Your mind is tired.

But you weren't alone.

At first, you noticed footprints near your camp, large, bare, and human.

Then came the food which were fruits placed in careful piles, bowls carved from bark filled with clean water, and once, a rabbit skinned and cleaned.

Something or someone was watching you.

You tried to stay calm. Maybe it was a local. A tribal man? Or someone else who had survived like you?

But then you saw him.

He emerged from the trees; the stranger was tall, wild-haired, shirtless, his skin bronzed by the sun. Muscles tensed beneath every movement, but he crouched low, green eyes pointed at you with eerie stillness.

Then he vanished, back into the trees.

You told yourself it was a hallucination.

Until the next morning, when he stood just beyond your camp's edge, holding your baby.

Your heart stopped. You rushed forward. Yet you realised that the baby wasn't crying.

In fact, he cooed, nestled calmly in the handsome man's massive arms.

"Safe," the man said simply, his voice low, rough, like language was unfamiliar to him.

He stepped forward, carefully handing the child to you. "Safe with me."

You backed away, clutching your baby. "Who are you? What do you want?"

His head tilted. He looked confused.

"You. Mate"

The word landed like a stone in your gut. You stared at him, horrified.

"I don’t know you!"

He blinked.

"I know you. Long time. Since sea came. I watched. You… strong. Protect cub." His gaze softened slightly. "Good mate."

You didn’t answer. Couldn’t. Your blood ran cold.

From that day forward, he never left.

He followed at a distance, silently watching. Every night, he lingered near your shelter, unseen but felt.

When you gathered water, he would appear from the trees, walking alongside you as if you belonged to him.

He would pick fruit and place it in your basket, like a lover trying to please you.

And your baby? Adored him. Laughed when he appeared. Reached out for him.

That's why you finally decided to give him a chance to learn about him.

And from the information you managed to collect with hardship due to his lack of vocabulary.

You found out about his name, age, and how he grew up with animals like gorillas.

He also told you about how an english woman called Jane taught him the vocabulary before she left to return back home.

That made you warm up to him.

You taught him words, through gestures, repetition, soft correction.

And he mimicked you like a devoted student, eager to understand.

Tarzan was intelligent in a raw, primal way, his voice gradually shaping your language like it was his birthright.

Tarzan had found the remains of a treehouse, half-rotten but salvageable.

It was his parents’ long abandoned home, tangled in vines and broken wood. and he began repairing it.

For you. And your son.

You watched him every day, his muscles rippling as he lifted beams like they weighed nothing, his hands bloodied from work, but never complaining.

He carved handrails so you wouldn’t fall. Laid moss and furs across the floor so your baby had somewhere soft to crawl.

"I fixed it for you, and our son" he said one day, gesturing proudly. "Our home."

You touched the wall. It smelled of cedar and sun, warm, clean, and strong.

Just like him.

And you began to fall for him.

Because out here, in the wild, he was everything for you, food, shelter, and safety.

When you cried, he held you, when your child was sick, he sat awake through the night, bathing them in cool river water and humming low, wordless lullabies.

He didn't ask to sleep beside you, but one night, when the wind howled and your baby curled up between you, you didn't send him away.

You almost forgot the life you had before. The pain. The betrayal.

Until he came back.

Your ex-husband.

It was early morning when you heard the shouts, male, unfamiliar, human. Tarzan stilled like a hunting cat.

His green eyes narrowed at the intruder.

You rushed down the ladder of the treehouse, heart pounding, baby strapped to your back. And there he was.

Soaked. Sunburned. Bruised, but unmistakably him.

"Y/N?" he gasped. "Is it really you?"

You froze as he ran toward you, grabbing your arms.

"God, I thought you were dead! I came back, hired a search crew. The boat is nearby, it’s not too far down the coast. We can leave! We can-"

"Stop," you whispered.

He blinked, confused. "What?"

And then Tarzan stepped out of the trees.

Your ex froze, taking in the Tarzan appearance with wild eyes and an unreadable expression.

"What in the world is this?"

Tarzan moved beside you, putting a hand over your shoulder in a protective manner.

You didn’t speak as your former glared.

"You living with this freak now? Did you lose your mind out here?! He is dangerous, he is a savage!"

You felt your baby stir at the rising voices. You rocked him gently, trying to stay calm.

Tarzan’s breathing had grown shallow. Slow. Eyes locked on the intruder like a predator sizing up prey.

"Go," Tarzan said, voice flat.

When you opened up to Tarzan about the abuse you endured and how you fled on that ship to escape your ex-husband, it broke his heart, and left no doubt in his mind who the real villain was.

Your ex turned, glaring at Tarzan.

"Excuse me?"

"Go back to the tree house and protect our son.”

"She is my wife. That is my son!”

Tarzan tilted his head slowly.

"No."

The man tries to walk past Tarzan to get to you, but he doesn't get the chance to do so as Tarzan stabs him in the chest with his spear, killing him instantly.

A silent gasp escapes your lips, as you hide your son's face in your embrace.

The way Tarzan turns around to face you with a small smile as if he hasn't committed a murder in front of you is shocking.

But his proposal was something else.

"Can I be your husband now?"

[cybergoth1]

﹟— ❛❛LOATHING, UNADULTERATED LOATHING...

☆﹟— paring: fem!deadpool!reader x jason todd.

☆﹟— summary: jason todd used to think dying was the worst thing that ever happened to him. then he met you.

☆﹟— warnings: +18, dni. hate fuck. rough sex, oral sex, hair pulling, a little bit of spanking, filthy dirty talk, degrading, unprotected sex. swearing, blood, guns, suggestive dialogue, deadpool being deadpool, reader and jason throwing punches in the kitchen. enemies to lovers (?). the divider was made by @bernardsbendystraws. thank you!. some of deadpool's lore. red hood's lore. 4k words!.

JASON HAD BEEN TORTURED, murdered in a warehouse explosion, and shoved into the Lazarus Pit like some experiment. He came back different; angrier, colder, with a permanent itch under his skin he could never quite scratch. He’d clawed his way back into a city that barely noticed he was gone, wearing a new mask and a grudge like armor. And then he’d spent years readjusting to a world he never asked to return to, trapped in a body that felt more like a cage than himself. But none of that, none of that life-long, soul-crushing suffering, prepared him for the torment of working with you.

Standing by your side made him believe in karma. Hell, even divine punishment at this point. Maybe those christians were onto something after all, because just hearing your voice made him want to put a gun in his mouth. That was the level of his despair.

You, with your mouth that never shut up. Your warped moral compass. Your blood-soaked sense of humor. Your fourth-wall-breaking commentary that made him wonder if he was the one hallucinating. You were a walking migraine. A useless, brainless cheap merc from New York who somehow hadn’t managed to die permanently — thanks only to that freak-show healing factor. And, of course, your kill count that made even him raise an eyebrow.

And now you were in his city.

Bruce was pissed. Truly, deeply furious, the kind of mad that led to terse one-sentence orders and sending Red Hood to "clean up the mess". Which meant Jason got stuck playing babysitter to a lunatic who treated Gotham like it was her new theme park. You kept taking contracts on people too close to the Bat’s interest; mob bosses under surveillance, corrupt judges, the occasional undercover informant. Important people. The kind of people you weren’t supposed to make disappear without blowing up months of work.

Months of his fucking work, by the way.

And now here he was, trying to keep you from burning his city to the ground while resisting the urge to shoot you in the face. Not that it would work. He’d tried. Twice. Shoot you right in the face, and in the thighs at least four times. You just laughed at him. Like the bitch you are.

But in the end, the two of you had a few things in common. You were both taking out terrible people, and it’s not like the old man and his cult could really do anything about it, you’re basically immortal. So, yeah… sometimes he ended up teaming up with you behind his family’s back.

You two were literally doing that right now. And he bitterly regretted making that damn call.

The warehouse you two had broken into thirty minutes ago reeked of cheap gun oil and rust. Smoke still curled in the rafters, clinging to the air. Jason stood near a half-shattered window, body tense, pistol aimed at the last conscious thug crawling toward his dropped knife.

One silenced shot.

Thud.

Peace.

Or… so he thought.

"Okay, but hear me out—what if, instead of just shooting them, we had, like, a dance battle first?" your voice rang out behind him, chipper as hell, despite the blood soaking your suit from shoulder to knee. "Real Step Up vibes. I could’ve been Channing Tatum, Hood. You robbed me of that."

Jason let out a slow, pained sigh.

You strolled into view, katanas dripping, mask rolled up just enough to chomp on some suspicious-looking beef jerky you’d stolen off one of the corpses.

He stared at you — hard — judgment practically radiating from behind the helmet.

You winked. "What? He wasn’t gonna need it. I checked. Real dead. No pulse."

He holstered his gun like he was trying to keep himself from choking you with it.

"This was supposed to be stealth," Jason growled. "You came in like a Michael Bay explosion in clown shoes."

"I only wear clown shoes on thursdays. Today’s monday, obviously I wore my sexy combat heels. They give me great posture."

He rolled his eyes, not that you could see it — but you probably felt it.

"You decapitated a guy mid-sentence."

"Yeah, I freed him from the shackles of his spine. Heroism."

Jason sighed, loudly. It came out all warped and mechanical through his helmet’s voice emulator, like a dying vacuum cleaner. Fitting, given his shitty mood.

"Do you even remember the briefing?"

"Absolutely not." You beamed. "But you looked super hot while explaining it. I was distracted by your mouth. It moves like a really angry kiss."

He turned to you slowly, the glare behind his helmet palpable.

You tossed your bloodied jerky onto a pile of corpses. "Also, sorry about the headshot bet. I thought we were still playing. I win, though. That guy’s brain did a little jazz hands at the end."

Jason’s jaw ticked. His fists clenched. He hated you so fucking much. Every mission with you ended in some kind of bloodbath or blown cover. And he’d put up with it. Again and again. Because, unfortunately, you were useful when managed correctly. Roy’s words, not his.

He’d managed feral dogs with more grace.

Still, he tried.

Every time he managed to think of you as just a useful tool — and not an actual person capable of annoying the absolute shit out of him — some of that deep, deep hatred eased up. Just enough to keep him from having a heart attack mid-conversation.

"Let’s just sweep the building and go," he muttered, shouldering past you. You could feel the raw, seething loathing rolling off him. He was pissed. Yikes.

You grinned. "C’mon, don’t be mad. They were assholes. One of them called me a slut with swords. Joke’s on him, though, I’m also amazing in bed. Two for one."

He turned slowly. Here we go.

You took a playful step back. "Ooh. Somebody’s got the grumpy face on. What’s wrong, Red?"

He inhaled, deep, slow, like he was trying not to explode.

Then he did.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Ooooh, there it is."

"I’m serious," he snapped. "You’re a fucking useless dumbass. You blew the side off the building before I even gave the signal!"

"Well, to be fair—" you started.

"Shut the fuck up."

Your mouth closed, but your smirk widened.

Jason stepped toward you, voice dropping to a hiss. "I have had it with your psychotic bullshit. You treat every op like it’s a fucking improv skit. People are dying. Real people. And all you care about is if your one-liner hit or if I laughed at your dumbass joke."

You raised an eyebrow. Not that he could see. "To be fair, the ‘pencil-dick mafia’ line was comedy gold—"

"SHUT UP!" he barked, voice raw now. "Jesus, do you ever stop running your mouth? It’s like your brain’s stuck in horny stand-up mode while the rest of us are trying not to fuck up the mission. You’re not fucking funny. You’re a goddamn walking catastrophe with no fucking impulse control!"

You stared at him.

He kept going.

"You think you’re charming? You’re exhausting. You make every mission ten times harder than it has to be. You blow our cover, you disobey orders, and you laugh while slicing people open like it’s a fucking cartoon. I don’t care how fast you heal—if you get me or anyone else killed with your bullshit, I will personally find a way to keep you dead."

He was panting now.

"And for the record, stop flirting with me. You’re not sexy. You’re not even fucking attractive. You’re loud, obnoxious, and about as subtle as a chainsaw to the face. You think I haven’t had people throw themselves at me? Women with class, with self-control, with an ounce of fucking dignity? I don’t want you. I don’t even like you. Fuck."

Silence.

The air was thick.

And then—

You let out a soft, breathless laugh. "Holy shit."

You stepped closer, eyes gleaming inside your mask. "That was the meanest thing anyone has ever said to me. I think I need to sit down."

"What—"

You pointed at him. "That? That whole verbal curb-stomp? I think I just came a little."

"No, seriously," you whispered, leaning in like it was a secret. "I am so unwell right now. I think my ovaries did jazz hands. My therapist’s gonna hear about this. If I had a diary, I’d write ‘Today, Red Hood called me a useless bitch, and I got horny in a warehouse full of corpses."

He took a step back like you were radioactive.

You followed. "Say more mean shit. Call me pathetic. Tell me I’m annoying again but in that gravelly ‘I want to strangle you’ voice. Maybe spit on me?"

Jason turned sharply. "I hate you."

You cupped your hands around your mouth. "Is that foreplay?!"

He ignored you while leaving the warehouse.

You grinned like a devil.

Ten minutes later, you were sitting on the roof together, watching the flames lick up the side of the warehouse. Jason was smoking, trying to pretend you weren’t five inches from his thigh. He’d given up smoking a while ago, but being around you made him seriously reconsider. Alcohol or nicotine felt like the only way to survive your presence.

He was so out of it, he couldn’t even bother worrying about you seeing his face without the helmet.

"I’d call this a win," you offered, sipping from a cup of coffee you definitely hadn’t been holding five minutes ago. "We stopped the arms deal, torched the stockpile, and I got to see you yell like a stressed-out dom in a CW drama."

He exhaled smoke through his nose. "Stop talking."

"Make me."

He didn’t move.

You smirked.

"I can be quiet. If you put something in my mouth."

Jason side-eyed you with the force of a thousand suns.

"Like a gag. Or a sandwich. Or your coc—"

He shoved the rest of his cigarette into your coffee and stood up.

You sighed dreamily.

"God, I love him."

TO JASON'S GREAT MISFORTUNE, the two of you kept working together. Worse, you somehow wormed your way into Roy and Kory’s lives, like this was some kind of team-up he never asked for. Naturally, Roy adored you. You made him laugh so hard he had to stop eating and drinking around you just to avoid choking to death. Kory didn’t get your sense of humor at all, but she liked your honesty. And Jason?

Jason just kept hating you for using his damn safehouse like it was your personal Airbnb.

At least during that time, he’d managed to run a few background checks on you — always keeping tabs, just in case. Dug up some interesting things, like the fact that you’d had terminal cancer and underwent some sketchy experimental treatment. It saved your life, sure… but it also wrecked your body. Now you were covered in scars and practically unkillable thanks to a healing factor so extreme it bordered on obscene.

But being honest, he didn’t give a fuck about your messed-up origin story. Cancer, shady experiments, freakshow healing factor. Whatever. Join the club. He’d been blown to pieces and dumped in a Lazarus Pit, so forgive him if he didn’t feel special sympathy. Your problem was your problem. All he wanted was for you to stop eating his food, leaving weapons in his couch cushions, and walking around his place like it had your name on the deed.

You were needy and reckless, an obnoxious pain in the ass with zero boundaries. Jesus Christ.

But, anyways, things had really gone downhill after that garbage fire of a day he had. He and Isabel were done for good, — she’d been his last attempt at feeling something decent in his shitty life, something soft, something that didn’t hurt — you’d tanked another mission, and now you were somehow giving him unsolicited dating advice, like your love life wasn’t a fucking joke. He knew damn well the only person you’d ever seriously dated before turning into Deadpool was a stripper named Vanessa. Sweet girl. Way too good for this mess. She died in New York months ago, because of you.

And then came the shitshow.

Jason had snapped at you again, like it was becoming a habit.

He would never forget the way your body froze, how your shoulders locked up, your breath caught, and every trace of humor bled out of you. Even with that stupid mask on, the look in your eyes gutted him. Like you’d been slapped.

And he meant it to hurt. Every word he spat was sharp and aimed to cut deep. And judging by the silence that followed, he had.

"The only person who ever loved you was a fucking hooker. And even she had to be paid to do it. So fuck off."

The world stopped in his living room.

You didn’t make a stupid joke.

Your fists clenched before your brain could even register it.

Then you hit him. Hard. Square across the jaw.

No more nice ‘Pool, hm?

His head snapped sideways with a grunt, blood blooming in his mouth, but he was already swinging back. Jason’s body twisted with trained precision, his fist caught your side and you gasped, more from fury than pain.

You grabbed him by the front of the shirt and slammed him into the wall hard enough to make it shudder. The plaster cracked behind him, flakes drifting to the floor like ash. His hands came up again, but you were already pushing him back, breath hot, eyes wild under the mask.

"Call her a hooker again," you growled, breath ragged. "I fucking dare you."

Jason spat blood, his grin feral.

The next punch came fast. His knuckles cracked against your jaw. You grunted, stumbled, but swung back instantly — he ducked under it, shoulder-checked you into the wall, and the two of you collapsed in a flurry of fists and curses.

He grabbed you by the waist and slammed you onto the kitchen counter, the edge biting into your back. You didn’t hesitate. Your boot caught him square in the chest and knocked him back into the fridge. The whole thing rattled violently, a magnet flying off and clattering to the tile floor.

Neither of you even looked.

Your eyes burned. Your chest heaved. You were soaked in sweat.

Jason’s pupils were blown wide, locked on you. Blood dripped from the corner of his mouth, smeared across his lip, but he didn’t wipe it away. He just stood there, chest rising and falling, like he couldn’t tell if he wanted to hit you again or—

"You don’t talk about her. You don’t even fucking know—"

God, you never shut up.

Jason rolled his eyes, and then his mouth crashed into yours, taking full advantage of the way your mask was rolled up to the bridge of your nose — your lips exposed and vulnerable for him. You bit his already-busted bottom lip out of pure fury, tasting copper and spite. You swung at him again, but he caught your wrist, groaning low in his throat.

Then his mouth was on yours again, harder this time, devouring you like he was starving and furious about it. His knee forced your legs apart, pinning you where he wanted you. One hand fisted in your collar, the other wrapped around your throat. Not choking, not yet. Just holding.

"Always running that loud, stupid mouth around me," he growled against your lips. His breath ghosted over your cheek, warm, intoxicating, and for one fleeting second, you almost forgot. Forgot how he disrespected you. Forgot the way he spat on the memory of the only person you ever truly loved.

"Gonna do everyone a favor and keep it busy."

The kiss tasted like iron, blood on both your tongues, heat rising like a fever. And despite everything you felt yourself melting into it, breath hitching against his mouth. Your hands curled in his jacket, unsure if you meant to push him away or drag him closer.

Jason’s hand fisted in your leather mask, rough and impatient, and tore it off completely. The air hits your skin like ice. You flinched. You felt naked. Your scars, your ruined skin, were now fully on display. And for a second, you hesitated. You turned your face just slightly, instinctively, already bracing for disgust.

But Jason didn’t stop. Didn’t hesitate.

Instead, his hand came to your jaw, guiding your face back to his and then his tongue slid past your aching lips, slow and deliberate.

Your brain short-circuited.

"Jason…"

You whimpered against him, a soft, unguarded sound you couldn’t even stop. His bigger body pressed against yours, pinning you to the counter. He was already hard, you could feel it heavy against your thigh.

"All that goddamn noise, every smirk, every wiseass comment, walking around my place like you owned it…" His mouth dragged along your jaw. "You’ve been begging for this. Dripping desperation under all that leather."

His hand dipped between your thighs, fingers finding your clothed cunt. You’d never been a prude but the sound that left your throat was a full-bodied, surprised whine, like some Victorian maiden getting her ankle glimpsed at a ball.

"Is that what gets you off, huh?" he growled against your skin, his thumb finding your poor clit. "Pissing me off until I snap? Playing dumb little games, fighting me in my fucking kitchen, so I’ll bend you over and fuck the attitude out of you?"

Yes, you were absolutely eating that shit up. Thighs already twitching, core pulsing, hips aching to grind into the heat of his thumb. But being a little shit was practically a personality trait by now.

"You sound like a discount Christian Grey or, I don’t know, one of those garbage Tumblr fanfics written by a—"

Jason didn’t let you finish.

He spun you around with zero finesse, hands gripping your hips like handles, and bent you over the kitchen counter so fast your breath left you in a grunt. Cold marble met your cheek as your hands scrambled for purchase.

"Try saying that again with my cock halfway inside you."

You just smirked, eyes wild.

"Oh, I love that."

He yanked the bottom half of your uniform down in one smooth, breathless motion. The cool air licked across your thighs and your ass.

Jason froze.

"...Hello Kitty panties? Are you fucking serious?"

You craned your neck with the most unapologetic grin known to man.

"I got them at a Walmart discount bin. Two-ninety-nine."

He stared for a second, dead silent, like he genuinely couldn’t decide whether to fuck you stupid or haul you in for crimes against fashion. His fingers hooked the waistband of your ridiculous Hello Kitty panties and let the elastic snap back against your skin with a sharp flick.

From that angle, bent over the counter, ass bare, pants around your knees, he could see everything.

Strong legs braced wide. Thick, powerful thighs. And the scars, God, the scars. Burns, patches of rough, discolored skin where your healing factor hadn’t cared about aesthetics. Jagged textures that twisted and crawled across your flesh.

He didn’t say anything.

Not at first.

You sighed after a few seconds.

"Gonna leave a lady hanging?"

"I don’t see any ladies here."

Your grin widened.

He dropped to his knees behind you.

Rough hands yanked your thighs apart as he ducked between them, spreading you open — your ugly panties were already balled up in his jacket pocket, swiped without a second thought after he’d torn them off you.

"Hey," you panted, voice wobbling through a half-laugh, half-moan, "you don’t have to steal my underwear, okay? I can buy you your own. Maybe with little bats on them—Jason?"

His only response was a low growl as he sank his tongue into you without a shred of mercy.

You jolted, mouth falling open.

"Fuck—okay, okay, take the panties, Jesus—"

He didn’t even look up. Just shoved your thighs wider, buried himself deeper, and groaned like your pussy was the first meal he’d had in days. Whatever joke you’d been about to crack turned into a breathless scream, your fingers scrabbling across the counter for something to hold on to. He licked like a man possessed, angry and hungry. You tried to push him back just enough to breathe, and he slapped your thigh. Hard.

"Don’t fucking move," he moaned against you, voice wrecked, wet sounds echoing through the room as he sucked your clit. Then he spit directly onto your cunt, tongue catching it before it could drip, and shoved two thick, warm, fingers inside you without warning.

"Oh—God—what the fuck?" you gasped, legs trembling as his fingers did something positively illegal, curling them just right inside you.

"Where the hell did you learn that?!"

He bit your thigh, hard enough to bruise, then sucked another mark into the skin.

"Jas—fuck—Jason—"

He pulled back just enough to speak.

"Did you ever shut the fuck up?" Jason growled, fingers still deep inside you, knuckles slick, "you sound like a fucking chatterbox."

You gasped, moaned, and tried to sass back but it caught in your throat. His fingers were so big, stretching you up so good…

He smirked, mean and low. "Yeah. That’s what I thought."

He stood up suddenly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and his fingers on his jeans. You didn’t get to finish the way you wanted.

"Hey— I was in the middle of something…"

Jason didn’t even glance at you. Just muttered, "Didn’t ask," as he undid his belt with sharp movements, the clink of the buckle cutting through the room. You twisted around on the counter, half-smirking through your haze.

"Hmm, someone’s eager. I get it, okay? I’m hot. Hot like Jessica Alba in The Fantastic Four."

He stepped forward, belt dangling from one hand, eyes dark, mouth set in a flat line. His other hand grabbed your hip hard enough to bruise and spun you back around with no effort at all. Jason lined himself up and thrust in, deep, splitting you open in one filthy, perfect stroke.

Every snarky comeback, every filthy one-liner, every sarcastic jab — all gone. For the next thirty minutes, you couldn’t even form a normal sentence. You moaned loud. Legs shaking.

"Fuck," you gasped. "Jason—"

"Shut up," he grunted. "You can take it."

He fucked into you hard. Brutal. Like punishment. Like he was trying to tear you apart from the inside out and stitch you back together in his shape. You were moaning high pitched, snarling, begging under your breath.

God, that was the best of your life.

He grabbed your wrists, pinned them behind your back with one hand, his other braced on your lower back, pressing you flat to the counter. Every thrust knocked the air out of your lungs. His cock dragged against every overstimulated nerve, punishing and perfect.

"Ah— Fuck, please, Ja—!"

Jason grabbed your hair and pulled you back against him.

"What?" he muttered behind you, giving your cheek a wet kiss, hand tangled tight in your hair, tugging your head back hard enough to sting. "Runned out of jokes? Got nothing for me now?"

He fucked you until the slap of skin was louder than your ragged breathing, until your thighs were shaking and your voice was breaking. And you moaned happly, pressing back into him like the goddamn animal you were, desperately trying to fuck yourself on him.

Jason chuckled, his grip tightening for a second.

"Thought so."

©cybergoth1, 2025

[hotvintagepoll]

Peter Lorre (The Maltese Falcon, Arsenic and Old Lace, Casablanca)—to me he DEFINES scrungle hes the first person i think of every time the term comes up! i want to fold him up like a paper accordion and put him in my pocket. guy that spawned a million voice artists and impersonators. they made a ghost version of him for halloween cereal staple boo berry. bewitched by his nervous mania and tooth gap <3 (for the purposes of propaganda im linking a photo from his extremely short appearance in muscle beach party bc ive been obsessed w it for years and i couldnt find any video for it :/ anyway imagine youre frankie avalon spending the whole movie battling a bodybuilder faction thats taking over your beach and your girl and then you find out this fucking guy is their mastermind mystery leader and hes stronger than all the bodybuilders combined. like Huh. What.)

Elsa Lanchester (The Bride of Frankenstein, Witness for the Prosecution, Mary Poppins)—Surely somebody's already submitted Elsa Lanchester for this right? Right??? Because her scrungle levels are OFF THE CHARTS in literally everything. The way she's Katy Nanna straight-up refusing to spend another minute with Jane and Michael Banks because she has DIGNITY thank you very much. The way she's Mary Goddamn Shelley stuck listening to Lord Byron mansplaining literature like "ha ha maybe even YOUR little monster story will be published" and she shoots back "It *WILL* be published, *I* think!!!" in the most bright-as-nails fuck-you-Byron voice imaginable. The way she's a nurse herding her lawyer charge through a sordid love-triangle case and we gradually realize the real love story was between her and the lawyer all along. The way she's a clandestine witch casting hexes on telephones, the way she's a princess's PA and helps an old friend steal an invitation card, the way she's a cleaning lady who goes to Germany to personally assassinate Hitler, the way she's a posh village worthy trying to impress Danny Kaye, the way ERRGHH i could go on just look at her scrungle.

These are the the semifinals for the scrungly little guy contest. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. If you’re confused on what a scrungle is, or any of the rules of the contest, click here.

[additional submitted propaganda + scrungly videos under the cut]

Peter Lorre:

he's pretty much the archetype of the scrungly little guy. the blueprint. the example by which all other scrungly little guys are judged

The entire point of his iconic role in Casablanca (apart from introducing the central plot mcguffin) was to be LITTLE and SCRUNGLY to make Bogie look even cooler. And Maggot in Corpse Bride - the littlest scrungliest guy in that film - was a parody of him.

Between his big eyes, wheezy laugh, short stature, and expressive faces, Peter Lorre achieved icon status as the scrungliest, littlest guy in Hollywood. His scrungly little guy energy was often contrasted with the more typical masculinity of the leading man, but whether this contrast was meant to make him seem especially sinister, comedic, or pathetic, it always left an unforgettable impression!

The perfect sniveling character actor, “scrungly” is the first word that comes to mind when I think of him.

I'm sure somebody else has already submitted him (if not then ???) but he's a cute kind of scrungly little guy. He's got a distinctive nasal voice with an accent that is instantly recognizable and often imitated. His later horror movies are so much fun, especially when he's playing off of Vincent Price. He's so good at being unhinged, creepy, or manic, but also pathetic and sympathetic.

Classic scrungly hollywood golden age little guy who was friends with Humphrey Bogart and still played some of the wettest most sniveling characters ever committed to celluloid (complimentary) there is a deep despair and darkness in many of his characters that enhances his scrungly

To be clear, I am one of those people who will argue that Lorre is one of the most underrated film actors, but the POINT is that he's also just a scrungly delight. A delightfully pocket-sized man. Somehow endearing even when he is being actively amoral (see esp. Casablanca. "I found myself much more reasonable!") The faces he makes while doing the Russian cossack dance with a butter knife between his teeth in Silk Stockings make me laugh just thinking about them.

Wikipedia described his typical characters as "timidly devious", lots of weird little villains and evil sidekicks that are pretty horrifying but still manage to be sort of pathetic and the very definition of "poor little meow meow". His look and voice and mannerisms are so iconic they're still imitated

Cartoons for the next century have and will continue to include Peter Lorre-esque characters when needed to up the scrunge factor (see Bugs Bunny and so many more).

Youtube link for characters inspired by Lorre [editor's note: I'm not actually sure how many of these characters are directly, verifiably influenced by Peter Lorre, so take with a grain of salt. tw for suicide depiction.]

I think Arsenic and Old Lace is his quintessential "scrungly" performance. He's so put-upon and tired...all he wants is sleep and some schnapps! I love the way his shoulders fall slowly when he thinks he's caught (he looks like a sad puppy!), only to gleefully sprint out the door when he realizes how dumb those police officers are.

Elsa Lanchester:

[throttleheart]

⸻ ⸻ ⸻

The Cold Night 

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!Reader

Genre: Fluff

Word Count: <1k

Summary: Sharing warmth with Lando, in unique ways.

⸻

The room was quiet, save for the soft hum of the air conditioning and the occasional sound of Lando’s restless shifting beside you. You were warm, snug under the thick covers, blissfully unaware of the slight chill in the room. It was the kind of night that made you want to melt into the sheets and forget the world outside.

But apparently, Lando wasn’t feeling quite as comfortable. You could hear him grumbling softly, a low murmur that grew louder as he shifted again.

“Y/N,” he complained, his voice muffled by the pillow as he half-turned towards you. “It’s freezing in here.”

You blinked lazily, stretching out a little as you tried to sink deeper into the warmth of the blankets, blissfully ignorant of his discomfort. “It’s not cold, Lando. You’re just not sharing the blankets,” you teased, barely opening your eyes.

He groaned in frustration, the sound of him tugging at the sheets making you grin. “I’m going to freeze to death,” he muttered, his voice laced with mock despair. “You know, we could’ve just turned up the heat.”

You couldn’t help but laugh softly at his dramatic tone, but you knew he was right. You had definitely claimed more than your fair share of the covers. The blanket was nearly over your head, leaving him shivering from the cold air.

Turning toward him, you finally gave him your attention, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “Oh? You’re cold?” you asked teasingly, propping yourself up on one elbow to look at him.

Lando sighed dramatically and rolled his eyes. “I’m freezing, and you’re hogging all the warmth. What kind of partner does that?”

You bit back a smile, looking at him thoughtfully. The situation was admittedly a little funny, but you couldn’t deny the way he was looking at you with those big, pleading eyes. The temptation to tease him further was strong, but you figured it was time to show him a little mercy.

“Well, Lando,” you said with a wicked grin, “since you’re so cold… maybe we can do something about that.”

His brows furrowed, clearly curious but not quite sure where you were going with this. “What are you suggesting?”

You didn’t answer immediately. Instead, you stretched out beside him, the covers still tangled around you like a cocoon, and extended your hand toward him. He hesitated, eyeing your outstretched fingers as if trying to gauge your intentions. You only smiled, offering him a soft, inviting look. “Take my hand.”

Lando raised an eyebrow, a hint of suspicion in his gaze. “What are you up to?”

“Nothing,” you said innocently, though there was definitely a glint of mischief in your eyes. “Just trust me.”

After a moment’s pause, he gave in, his fingers intertwining with yours as he let you guide his hand beneath the covers. You both shifted so that you were facing each other, the bed creaking slightly as you moved. Your hearts beat a little faster in the quiet of the room.

The warmth from your body was almost tangible, and as you led his hand lower, you could feel the tension in his fingers as he realized where you were taking him, in between your thighs. He paused for just a second, clearly surprised, but didn’t pull away. Instead, he gave you a teasing, curious smile. “So… this is your solution?”

You chuckled softly. “I mean, you said you were cold. Now, you’re warm, aren’t you?”

Lando’s lips curled into a grin, and he let out a soft laugh, but there was something more in his eyes now—something that told you he wasn’t complaining anymore. “I guess you’ve got a point,” he said, his voice softer than before.

You held his gaze, the playful teasing between you fading into something deeper. You could feel the warmth radiating from him now, not just from the physical touch but from the way his presence seemed to settle over you like a comforting blanket.

There was a shift in the air between you, the earlier banter turning into something more intimate. Lando’s hand lingered between your legs, the connection between you both growing stronger with every beat of your hearts.

“Y/N,” he murmured, his voice low, almost reverent now. “You know, I think I’m going to hold onto the covers from now on.”

You laughed softly, your breath hitching just slightly as you met his gaze. “Deal,” you whispered, wrapping your arms around him to pull him closer.

Lando didn’t hesitate. His arms found their way around you, pulling you into the warmth of his chest as he buried his face in your hair. You could feel his breath against your skin, warm and steady as he held you.

“Next time,” Lando whispered, breaking the silence, his voice full of that familiar mischievous tone, “I’m making sure I get the covers first.”

You smiled, nuzzling into him. “I’ll let you have them,” you murmured, your eyes fluttering shut. “But only if you promise to keep me this warm.”

Lando’s fingers brushed against your back in a soft, reassuring motion. “It’s a deal.”

And with that, you both drifted off into a peaceful sleep, the warmth of each other’s presence more than enough to ward off any lingering chill in the air.

⸻ ⸻ ⸻

[jenosonlywife23]

No Nut November Regrets

summary; nnn with jaehyun but he actually regrets it cause his about to enlist and his devasted cause he should have used those days to bang you up teehee!!!

a/n; Lets pretend he still hasnt enlisted lol.

-------------------------------------------------------

Jaehyun’s pacing your bedroom like a man possessed, muttering to himself with his hands in his hair.

"Are you okay?" you ask, half-laughing at his dramatic behavior. He’s been acting weird ever since he got home.

"No, I’m not okay," he blurts out, turning to face you with a look of absolute despair. "I’ve made a grave mistake."

You tilt your head, trying to stifle a smile. "What, did you lose a bet? Forgot your phone at the gym again?"

He stares at you like you’ve missed the point of life itself. "Worse. I wasted an entire month."

You blink, thoroughly confused. "A month on what? Your skincare routine? 'Cause, babe, you look amazing—"

He groans, cutting you off. "No Nut November."

There’s a beat of silence before you burst out laughing. "Oh my God, that’s what this is about? Are you serious?"

"I’m dead serious!" he exclaims, throwing his hands in the air. "Do you know how much time we could’ve spent—" He stops, rubbing the back of his neck as he tries to find the words.

"Spent...?" you prompt, clearly enjoying his struggle.

He sighs deeply, his ears turning red. "Banging," he finally mutters, avoiding your gaze.

You choke on your laughter, clutching your stomach. "Are you actually upset you didn’t? What happened to self-control, proving something to yourself, all that motivational crap you were preaching?"

"That was before I knew I was enlisting!" he practically yells, throwing himself onto the bed like a soap opera heroine. "I thought I had time. But now? Now I’ve got weeks—weeks, baby! And I just... I feel like I’ve betrayed us both."

You sit beside him, trying to hold back your laughter. "So, let me get this straight. You’re mad because you spent thirty days not having sex with me, and now you think you’ve wasted your youth?"

"Exactly!" He sits up, his expression so sincere it makes you want to both laugh and kiss him. "I thought I was doing something noble. But now all I can think about is how many times we could’ve—"

"Jaehyun!" you cut him off, cheeks burning.

"No, listen!" he insists, gripping your hands like he’s about to deliver the speech of a lifetime. "We could’ve been doing it every night, every morning, maybe even on lunch breaks. Do you know how much catching up we have to do now?"

You’re crying with laughter at this point, collapsing onto the bed. "You’re ridiculous."

He flops beside you, throwing an arm over his eyes dramatically. "Ridiculous and horny," he declares. "And I’ve got no time to fix it."

"Well," you say, leaning over him with a sly smile, "we’ve got tonight. Think you can make up for thirty days in one go?"

He peeks at you from under his arm, his eyes narrowing like he’s accepting a challenge. "Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea."

[torchwood-99]

Can you please develop more on what in your opinion makes Éowyn originally doomed by the narrative? I agree with the idea, I'm just curious as to what traits or parts of her narrative makes her doomed according to you!

In her first scene, she comes across as almost spectral.

First time we see her, she's stood in the shadows behind a decaying old man and his creepy, snake like advisor. Her nickname, the White Lady, conjurs images of phantom "white ladies", which are staples of supernatural mythology, and are usually found in rural places, and are associated with tragic histories and unrequited/doomed love.

When she is dismissed, she leaves, she doesn't speak, but goes silently from the room, and she passes judgement on those she passes. She looks on Theoden with "cool pity", and recognises the power in Aragorn. A pale, voiceless, woman, dressed all in white, passing judgement on those before her, before silently gliding from the room, like a wraith or spirit.

To further reinforce the ghost like imager, she is cold; "thought her fair and cold, like a morning of pale spring that is not yet come into womanhood." She looks on Theoden after his recovery with neither joy or love but with "cool pity".

Whereas warmth usually holds connotations with life, the cold conjurs images of corpses and the grave. Even the use of "spring" in her description, a season associated with life, birth and new hope, is described as "pale". The combination of "spring" (life) and "pale" (death), conjures an image of something that is at once living and dead.

A lot of our view point characters look on her with unease. She is repeatedly described as "stern", and the only time that stern façade cracks is when she shows emotions that are discomforting for other characters.

Her hand shakes when she serves Aragorn the cup, and Aragorn senses her attraction and is deeply concerned about. The intensity of her desire, and Aragorn's unspoken unease, makes for an aura of discomfort and dread.

The only time Eowyn shows "life" is when she's trembling with passion for Aragorn, a passion unrequited, or when her eyes are sparkling with visions of war and death.

The first time her stern face truly cracks, and she lets the feelings show, is when she breaks down in tears, begging Aragorn to let her ride with him. She's either frozen or weeping.

Everyone who observes this is deeply distressed. They find it painful to watch a proud and stern woman break down in tears and beg, a sensation the reader shares with them.

Aragorn himself is deeply pained and troubled by his concern for Eowyn. 'Only those who knew him well and were near to him saw the pain that he bore.'

Aragorn later admits in the Houses of Healing that his concern for her haunted him after their parting, and that nothing caused him so much fear on the Paths of the Dead as his fear of what may come to her.

In the same chapter, Aragorn likens her to a lily. Lilies themselves have connotations of death, and also harken back to Elaine, the "lily maiden" who died of heartbreak after being forsaken by her love, Lancelot.

So Eowyn is a figure of death, despair and tragic love. She is white, cold, lily-like, and is looked on with grief by many who perceive her. And not just grief, but discomfort. They don't just notice her distress, but are distressed by her.

When Merry meets her, he notices she seems to have been weeping, an image that is uncomfortably at odds with her stern manner.

Even Theoden, who cannot be credited with being that tuned in to Eowyn's feelings, notices she is unhappy, asking her how she is, and commenting twice on her obvious distress.

When Merry meets her in her guise as Dernhelm, he shivers, because he feels he is looking at someone with neither hope nor will to live. Their journey to the Pelennor passes in silence. Eowyn is a solitary figure, cut off from all those around her, riding to her death.

This culminates in Eowyn laughing at the Witch King, who brings despair to all who face him, because at this point she has literally nothing to fear from him.

The scene in which she faces him is written as a death scene. She fights him valiantly, but his destruction seems to be her own, and the consequences of her apparent death (Eomer's reaction) are severe.

Her tragedy appears compounded when Theoden bids her farewell, unaware she was with him the entire time, which rather sums up his fond, yet blinkered attitude towards her. She gives her life defending the dignity of a man, who is only half-aware of her existence.

Eowyn is mourned. Eomer rages against the heavens at her passing, and the riders of Rohan speak of their regret that she followed them without knowing. She is carried alongside Theoden, and it is only Imrahil's sharp perception and respect for her beauty that causes him to notice she is still alive, taking them all, and us, by surprise. Up until this point, Eowyn has been doomed, and she seems to have met her doom, heroically so.

But there's still a spark of life in her, still a weak breath in her lungs, and that's enough for her to be saved, and taken to the Houses of Healing. It's just a faint sign of life, barely noticeable, but it's life, which means there's hope.

As we look into Eowyn's mindset, we begin to see why she is such a tragic figure.

The first time she is addressed by name, she is being sent from the room. Her orders to take charge of the people of Rohan, which should be something of an hour of triumph and honour for her, feels almost insulting, in how her uncle would rather throw his crown to the people to take for themselves, than name her as an heir after Eomer, and then forgets she is even a part of their house, until Hama reminds him.

Our final scene of Eowyn in Two Towers is of her as a solitary figure, left alone to guard an empty hall, watching as the men ride away beneath their sparkling spears, a striking contrast between the camaraderie and fellowship we witness between the men riding out together.

That Eowyn is loved and respected by many, as revealed by Hama and her ability to safely lead the people to Dunharrow, despite their reluctance, compounds the tragedy, because she is not entirely alone and overlooked, but the people she wishes to been seen by, the people she holds in esteem, Theoden and Aragorn, rejects. Theoden, unthinkingly, by forgetting her worth until it is spelled out for him, and Aragorn in being unable to accept her love, or her offer of service.

Eowyn's driving conflict, the one that seems central to her character, is not even with the villains who everyone else is banding together to fight. She is part of that fight against them, but her personal struggles stem just as much from her conflict with her own family, her own people and her own society, as they do with the threat of Mordor. Victory over the Mordor does not necessarily mean victory for her, we know for Eowyn to be spared her doom, she can't just be rescued from the enemy that everyone else is fighting. She is trapped, caged, and would rather ride out and die, than live to see herself fade.

“What do you fear, lady?" [Aragorn] asked. "A cage," [Éowyn] said. "To stay behind bars, until use and old age accept them, and all chance of doing great deeds is gone beyond recall or desire.”

That whole exchange between Aragorn and Eowyn reveals that above all else, beneath her stern facade and dreams of valour, Eowyn is absolutely seething. She is burning up with rage and frustration, and it is not just her enemies she is raging at, but her allies.

Her narrative starts to turn in the Houses of Healing. Not only is Aragorn able to bring her back to life, but it's clear that despite her unhappiness, Eomer's love for her is still a comfort and a source of happiness. When she wakes up, her first words are joy of seeing her brother there. For a character who until this point has been a figure of sorrow and loneliness, for her to speak so instinctively of joy at the presence of another is momentous.

This joy seems well justified, as not only do we witness the extent of Eomer's love, we also see a change in Eomer, and his perception of his sister.

Her sufferings, and the causes of her sufferings, are finally acknowledged. But they aren't acknowledged as some ephemeral, intangible thing, caused by a broken heart and some vague sense that she's just "doomed", but as the result of a set of specific circumstances that naturally caused her great feelings of despair and hopelessness. Eowyn isn't tragic because "she's Eowyn and she's doomed", but because of Grima's manipulation, and the constraints inflicted on her because of her sex.

That Gandalf compares Eomer's lot to Eowyn's, and points out to Eomer the freedoms and opportunities he had which she did not, further emphasises that it was Eowyn's circumstances that made her so tragic.

Eowyn wasn't "just doomed" and Eomer wasn't "just not doomed". Had their roles been reversed, Eomer could have ended up in similar straits.

Eomer hears this explanation, and a change occurs. He looks on Eowyn differently, and starts rethinking their whole lives together.

In the causes of her suffering being recognised, there is now some hope for her recovery. Her "ailment" has been "diagnosed", and it's much easier to find a "treatment" and a "cure", when there is a "diagnosis". There's a practical solution to Eowyn's suffering, and the person closes to her is brought one step nearer to seeing it.

Eowyn remains in the Houses of Healing, something she sees as frustrating, unnecessary and pointless. She doesn't want to live, she doesn't expect to heal, she thinks herself fit enough to ride and die, and that's what she wants to do.

Eowyn still sees herself as doomed by the narrative, but the narrative and the cast no longer see her as such. She is kept in the Houses, she is encouraged to rest and to heal, she is encouraged by Faramir to have hope, and gradually she starts to thaw.

She also becomes more gentle and vulnerable. Her youth is dwelled on, and her former concerns about living forever in a cage for a moment lapse as she focusses on a more trivial worry that Faramir thinks she's childish. When she scales down her request from permission to ride to battle, to be allowed to walk the gardens and look east, she speaks as a "maiden, young and sad."

In becoming more vulnerable, she becomes more approachable. She is no longer the ice maiden, a spectre, but a living person, with worries large and small, and Faramir is able to smile at her and offer her consolation.

The requests she makes during her "thawing", to look east and not be confined to her bed, signals a slight, perhaps unnoticed by her, return to hope. East is, as Faramir remarks, where their hopes lie. In looking east, she is looking towards hope. Furthermore, her second request, to not be confined to her bed, is something that Faramir can provide a practical solution for. She can have a chamber facing east, and she can have freedom to walk the gardens.

He almost speaks to her like a conciliator, or a negotiator. He talks her down from asking for death, to having a chamber looking east, and freedom to walk the gardens and take in the sun, in return to her agreeing to 'stay in this house in our care, lady, and take your rest," . That he phrases it gives the sense she has agency, he isn't saying "you will stay, and you will have a chamber that looks east, and you will walk in the sun", but instead he says if she agrees to stay, this is what they can do for her.

Therefore, the choice to stay, the choice to walk in the sun, the choice to heal, is put back into her hands, and in accepting Faramir's offer, she accepts the chance to heal.

Both Faramir and Aragorn are struck by pity when they meet Eowyn, but Aragorn's pity makes him hold her at arm's length. He maintains a distance between them, he turns from her and rides away. When he does try to "reason" with her, he only makes things worse, twisting the nail into Eowyn's frustrating circumstances.

Faramir feels pity for Eowyn, but he also feels kinship. She isn't some strange, removed creature. He doesn't look at her and see someone who is doomed. Nor does his treatment of her isolate her, as the treatment of so many others have.

He speaks of the pair of them as a unit, right from the start. He notes that both of them are "prisoners" of the healers, he tells her that both of them will be able to fight the end, if it comes to them, if they rest, and that the hours of waiting are something both of them must endure, and that both of them have passed through a shadow, and in from kinship, he expresses a belief that he might find comfort in her presence.

Eowyn's isolation and lack of agency are key causes in her despair, so it is understandable how this man, who makes efforts to understand her, to get to know, to befriend her and to make a connection with her, is such a balm, and manages to cause such a turn around in her arc.

Through her friendship, and later romance, with Faramir, she opens up, and arguably becomes more emotionally resilient, neither freezing her emotions, "cold and proud", or breaking down, weeping or begging. She shows uncertainty and fear in more moderate, casual ways, instead of pushing them down until they burst out of her.

However, she is still Eowyn. She is still proud (Faramir describes her as looking queenly), she is still proud, strong willed and sharp tongued. Even in her happiness, when she agrees to marry Faramir, she teases him for his people's snobbery, and she refuses the Warden's attempts to "release" her into Faramir's care, by instead asking to stay at the Houses of Healing.

She doesn't go from Ice Maiden to Fragile Flower. Instead, in grasping her future by the hands, in choosing for herself what she will do and where she will go, in deciding her own fate, her own role (that of healer), she shows that she is as strong willed as ever, and Faramir, who re-iterates twice; when speaking of his plans to marry her and go to Ithilien with her, that they will only do so if she is willing.

Eowyn also makes it clear to Faramir that while she will return to him, she has other duties and priorities that will keep her. That is, the rebuilding of the Mark. She has to go, she will come back. A striking contrast to her first introduction, when Eowyn is told "go", then told "stay", as it pleases those around her. She now has freedom of movement, she now chooses when to go, when to stay and when to return.

That Eowyn speaks of how she must go back, must look on her country and help her brother, also indicates that Eowyn sees her own worth and importance. She values herself and feels valued.

At Theoden's funeral/Eomer's coronation, Eowyn plays an integral role in the ceremonies. She presents Eomer with a golden cup and gives the signal for the cups to be raised to drink to the new king. This in itself indicates the esteem in which Eomer holds Eowyn. However, she has arguably been a cupbearer before, and it hasn't been a role that has brought her much joy. While it is a position of prestige, and shows she is a valued member of the household, it's not enough. Luckily, here, she isn't just there to oversee the celebrations of others, but to be celebrated herself.

Eomer ends the ceremonies by announcing her betrothal to Faramir. His justification for doing so is because of Theoden's love for Eowyn, which he uses to argue that Theoden wouldn't begrudge Eowyn's announcement being made at his funeral. He also notes how great the gathering before him is, greater than has ever been seen before. That Eomer wants to announce his sister's happy news before such an assembly, speaks of how much he wants to honour her.

Eomer certainly appears to have taken Gandalf's words on board. When he makes the announcement of Eowyn's betrothal, he says that Faramir asked for her hand, and Eowyn granted it, full willing.

He doesn't say anything about whether or not he gives his permission, (as her king and head of family, he probably was asked, but considering Eowyn and Faramir made their plans to wed with total confidence, you get the impression this was a matter of form, they were going to marry, Eomer disagreeing would be a complication, not a defeat), but instead emphasises how Eowyn has agreed to marry Faramir, full willing.

The final image we have of Eowyn can be a foil of that image of we have of her at the end of her first chapter in Two Towers. Once more, she is bidding farewell to a loved one as they depart Edoras. However, this time, she is embracing Merry before he leaves. She gives him a gift, that speaks of the bond of friendship that is now between them, and a remembrance of the time they rode together to battle, comrades in arms.

Compared to her formal parting from Theoden in Two Towers, this parting is full of warmth and intimacy. She and Eomer both hug Merry farewell, and when Merry leaves, Eowyn is left with both Eomer and Faramir, the two people she loves best, Faramir himself putting off his own duties in Gondor, to be near to Eowyn as she does her duty in Rohan.

Even the parting of Eowyn, Eomer and Merry, which could be a sad thing, is softened with Tolkien concluding "and so they parted for that time".

Their parting isn't forever, it's just for the moment. They will see each other again. Compared to the jarring juxtaposition of the brotherly army riding out, to Eowyn left alone to guard an empty hall, which created a sense of dread and foreboding, the final lines here at this parting fill us with warmth, with them all embracing, and leaves us with a promise that this parting isn't forever, and that the friends will all be reunited soon.

So, to summarise, Eowyn at first appears "doomed by the narrative." She is cold, stern, ghost like, and carries an aura of tragedy and dread.

Her doom she seems to carry through to fruition, and she is mourned accordingly, but the smallest spark of life remains in her, and in the causes of her despair being acknowledged, in the people in her life reaching out to her, making an effort to understand her, and in her and those around her making practical changes, the characters actively defy the narrative that has apparently doomed her, and together, through their combined efforts, Eowyn escapes her fate

Eowyn feels hopeless and trapped, and the people around her struggle to relate, and in fact many of them contribute; some un-knowingly, some knowingly (fucking Grima), to her depression. It first looks like a force greater than herself (the narrative) is causing her despair, and it cannot be overcome, but will instead lead to her destruction.

But actually, there is hope, and there are practical measures that can be put into place, to help her overcome her despair. Medical treatment, a support network, and a greater understanding from herself and from others of what she is going through, enable her to defy the narrative and find happiness.

[thewickedjazzy]

Blood, Sweat & Tears [Sex Pollen] for Kinktober.

♡「knight! akutagawa x afab! reader.」

Synopsis: you drag your loyal knight to a secluded antique shop, unaware that a cursed relic would force him to quench his insatiable desire for you, leaving him one choice only...fuck or watch you both die.

Warnings and w/c: 3.1k. ņsfw, smųt with plot, dead dove ー read at your own risk, dub-con, blood, cum, manipulation, age gap (aku is in his 30s YUM), sex pollen (obv.) slight implied knife play (rashomon)...etc.

“ryuu-kun, c'mon! why are you so stiff? just relax!” you giggle softly, tugging on the poor man's black shoulder cape as you practically drag him toward the entrance of the haunted antique shop.

truth be told, akutagawa wasn’t hesitant —at least, not for the reasons you assumed. the idea of going against the king’s orders wasn’t something he took lightly. defying authority was not a habit for a devoted knight like him, and he had never imagined himself in a situation like this. but for you?

oh — for you, he would go against any order. he would take any risk just to see your eyes light up, to hear that carefree laugh of yours that always seemed to make the heavy burdens on his heart feel lighter. lord! how he loves to just see your cheeks flush, the delicate pink hue resembling the sakura in full bloom ー his new favorite colour.

akutagawa had been by your side for years, from your childhood through your teenage years, and now, as you stepped into adulthood, he couldn't help but notice how things had changed. he had seen your growth with his own eyes, and it disturbed him more than he'd ever admit. you were becoming someone who could get into trouble with ease, and while he was too loyal to question you, the protective instinct in him was stronger than ever.

“i’m relaxed, with all due respect, don't you think you're being a bit reckless?” despite his apparent annoyance, his eyes soften as they find yours. there was something captivating about the way your eyes glimmer under the poor light of the shop, like stars in a forgotten sky.

you step further into the abandoned shop, soft giggles echo as akutagawa’s reluctant footsteps follow close behind. the place feels like it hasn’t seen sunlight in ages, dust dances in the beams filtering through the cracked windows, illuminating shelves filled with eerie artifacts and relics of a forgotten age. for you? this was simply an adventure — a moment of thrill in an otherwise carefully controlled life.

“look, ryuu-kun! isn’t it fascinating?” you point toward an ornate mirror standing tall at the back of the shop. its frame is twisted, covered in intricate carvings that seem almost to shift as you stare at them. “wooah! i’ve never seen anything like it.”

the knight watches you approach the mirror, every instinct tells him this place isn’t safe, that there’s a dark enchantment here that could harm you. but your enthusiasm and willingness to explore, pulls him in against his better judgment.

“your highness...” he says softly despite the danger evident in his voice, “don’t touch it. we don’t know what kind of curse or magic might lie within that thing.”

but of course you’re already inches away, mesmerized by your own reflection in the mirror’s surface as if it almost seems to beckon you, whispering captivating, incoherent lullabies that you can’t quite decipher. your fingers reach out, grazing the glass searching for the source of the sound. but the moment you make contact, an odd chill courses through you, and the reflection changes, warping, revealing shadows of something darker within.

and suddenly, you’re not looking at yourself anymore. instead, you see visions flickering across the mirror — scenes of solitude, a vast, empty world where you stand utterly alone. the cheerful warmth in your chest vanishes, replaced by a cold sense of despair. you try your best to step back, but your gaze remains locked onto the mirror as if bound by an invisible force.

akutagawa’s eyes widen as he watches you freeze, your expression shifting from delight to horror. without a second thought, he lunges forward, pulling you away, but not before his eyes accidentally catch his own reflection. and again, the mirror’s black magic grips him, and for a fleeting moment, he sees something horrifying — the blood stained memories of his past in the port mafia, of every life he’s taken, every failure, every ounce of suffering he encountered.

“r-ryuu-kun…” you try to speak but you're disoriented...pale, leaning against him as you struggle to steady your breathing.

he shakes himself free, grip tightening slightly on your arm. “we need to leave. NOW.”

you nod, feeling a strange, lingering heaviness creeping inside your chest. arguing feels pointless, afterall he’s the reason you’re still alive and kicking up till now. you murmur a soft “i’m sorry,” but he doesn’t respond. without a glance, he strides toward the door pulling you along with him.

and just as he reaches the threshold, a sweet, floral yet infused with a dangerously intoxicating heady scent looms around you both, almost as if the scent itself seeps into your senses, leaving your body heating up and your thoughts hazy.

“ryuu?… i don’t feel well-… what do we—what's happening to me?” your voice is barely audible, the heat sensation spreading through you rapidly, making your cheeks flush more and your breaths come quicker, each inhale carrying more of that cloying scent, filling your senses until all you can think about is the knight by your side.

“it's the curse,” he mutters, “i-it won't break unless we give... blood, and... uh- more.”

you look up at him and it’s clear he’s struggling just as much, flushed and panting heavily. you instinctively cling to him, seeking closure against your own will, and he finds himself leaning closer, almost reflexively. despite the losing battle within him to resist, he begins to tell himself that perhaps fulfilling this desire is the only way to break free of the mirror’s spell? perhaps it's the only way to truly protect you? there’s no time to consider if it’s twisted or not, he's silently beating himself up for letting you get hurt in the first place.

he tries his best to keep his thoughts under control, but it's nearly impossible with the enchanted pollen's effect taking over his mind and turning him into a puppet of it's own making and the line between his sense of duty to protect you and his desire to make the aching pain in his pants go away becomes harder to see.

“your majesty..” he murmurs almost apologetically as he lowers his face close to yours, a deep blush spreads across your cheeks as you finally understand — this isn't just about you and him anymore. this is about survival, about breaking the curse that binds you. blood and cum must mix in order for the magic to release its grip. is it grotesque? yes, but in this moment, it’s the only way out.

your eyes are heavily half-lidded, lips parted perfectly, a few beads of sweat trace your cupid’s bow as you clench onto him with wobbly legs, your thoughts absolutely shameless, cunt instinctively clenching around nothing, are you actually craving him? the knight who has been by your side for so many years — the one who’s spent countless hours guarding and protecting you — is now stirring feelings you’d only ever brushed aside. you would be lying if you said that you never thought of him this way, there was something about the familiar warmth he carried that made you want to stay wrapped in his arms forever.

“ryuu-kun.. i-it hurts so bad— please make it stop.” you cry, though you're not sure whether you're asking for release from the curse or for something else entirely. the look you're giving him is so pathetic that he can't help but dart out his tongue to wet his lips, before smashing his lips on yours feverishly, you both grunt in relief, you're not sure what's happening but it's seems to work. he slips his agile tongue between your parted lips, spit mingles with lewd mewls as he pins you against the wall, hands fumbling with his garments, taking his pants off, unbuttoning his black tonic, almost everything as to free himself from the suffocating layers of fabric, before fully pressing his bare upper body against yours.

“your highness... i'm sorry,” the words are soft, but the look in his eyes is anything but. there’s a lurking emotion there that he rarely reveals— less guilt, and more... eagerness? surely he knows the stakes of this spell too well. he understands the strength and danger of it, how it could kill you both in less than an hour if you don’t break it. yet, akutagawa’s no saint. he's a deviant, laced with sin and shameless thirst, an absolute reprobate. even as he’s forced into this for your survival. there’s an obscene side to him he can’t hide, a filthy hunger in how his gaze trails over your body, wondering how it’ll feel when you’re wrapped tight around him, how you’ll respond to him thrusting into you. will you bite back a scream? will you moan his name, too breathless, too fucked out to form a word?

either ways, there's no point for him to guess as he'll be witnessing it shortly. strong and boney hands tremble as they run wild against your body till they reach your pants pulling them down, he's too engrossed in your details as a muffled groan escapes his pretty lips before he slides down your nectar-soaked panties, taking both your legs wrapping them around his narrow waist, holding you close as if he can’t bear the thought of you slipping away from him. with a shaky sigh as he pops the buttons of your shirt, catching the beautiful euphoric sight of your breasts spilling over your bra.

“there's no time, please trust me on this,” just a few words to trick himself that what he's doing is only for your survival. his disheveled black and white locks brush your cheek as he presses quick, breathless kisses to your temple.

you manage to nod, feeling his hard cock press against your puffy folds from beneath, and your hips subconsciously buck yearning for any friction to ease the swell of pain building rapidly in your core.

however, it's short-lived, as in mere seconds, he's plunging into you with a deep, throaty groan, his entire body trembling as if he's been transported to another dimension. a wave of tingling ecstasy floods through him, muscles tightening as his fingers dig into your bare shoulders, holding you close.

“f-fuhckmmh- your highness-” he whimpers against your ear, the heat radiating from his body is absolutely insane, “forgiv-e me—,”another thrust, “i am bound to protect you— not to desecrate you like this.”

“i-it's fine,” you murmur, soft fingers gripping his face to force him to look at you. “i trust you ryuu-kun.”

what other options do you have? none.

he just stares at you for a few seconds before thrusting again. his hips start moving leisurely at first, stretching you deliciously as you bury your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his mesmerising scent, feeling every agonising movement of his flawless cock picking up its pace by each passing second and the instant he bottoms out, he practically 'pounds' into you deeper, harder, each stroke finding a new angle that leaves you gasping for air.

his own pleasure is muffling his ears. he still cannot believe it. he's been waiting for this moment his entire life, to finally fuck his monarch that's been taking over his thoughts each passing night, getting him atrociously horny.

“oh god, you feel ngh~ heavenly—,” it's a whisper more to himself, knobby hands gripping the swell of your ass as he rams into you manically, “blood...we- fuck! have to mix blood.”

before you can make sense of it, he conjures a faint trace of rashomon from his tonic, its shadowy tendrils coiling around his sleeve, sharp enough to slice yet gentle in his intent. he presses the edge to your palm, watching a bead of crimson pool against your skin.

the sharp sting pulls a gasp from your lips, your dazed mind barely registering the act before akutagawa does the same to himself. dark silver eyes smoulder with lust as he guides both your bleeding palms to his cock, smearing the mingled blood over it, the warm slickness adding to the sinful mess already coating him.

“ryuu-” you breathe, with a trembling voice, whether from pain or arousal, you’re not sure.

his eyes meet yours before you feel the soft clouds of his lips crash onto yours, it's all desperate and messy, teeth nipping at your lower lip hard enough to draw blood. the metallic tang spreads across your tongue, blending with the taste of him as he drinks in your broken moans, tongue delves deeper into your mouth, spit melding together as he aligns himself with your slit once more. his blood-slickened cock slides back into you, each thrust feels heavier, deeper, as if the leverage of the curse itself presses against you both, urging you to fulfill its dark demands.

“just a litt-le more,” he rasps, teeth scraping along the sensitive skin of your neck, leaving a delicate trail of violet bruises and ruptured vessels.

a borderline salacious symphony of sounds echoes, wet and obscene, sopping and slick, each thrust accompanied by a squeaky rhythm as his balls slap against your pillowy ass cheeks. your eyes roll back in a bliss, glossy lips parting lusciously in a wanton moan, every vein and ridge of him dragging you closer to euphoric oblivion.

“ryuu... i can’t...” you sob, nails digging into his back as the pressure in your core mounts, legs trembling around his waist. “i... i can’t take it anymore...”

“stay with me, your majesty haah,” he murmurs breathlessly, lips brushing against your ear as he drives into you deeper. “we need... to break it. just a little longer... please...”

his hands clutch at your hips, pulling you into each thrust until all that’s left is the white-hot pressure of the spell, of the lust, threatening to swallow you both. his cock throbs inside you, and it’s clear��� he can’t hold back any longer.

“please, ryuu... i’m—” you bite your lip, unable to finish as the knot in your belly tightens, ready to burst.

akutagawa's focus narrows, all he can think about is you, how your breasts bounce with each thrust, body arching beneath his, exposing the delicate curve of your neck— everything about you is perfect in this moment, and he can't tear his eyes away. the sight of your face contorted in pleasure, the pout tugging on your lips, the way your legs tremble, how your hips move to meet his, how your nails drag across his back starved for his naked skin. is this his body on yours? is he finally feeling you? kissing you? fucking you?

'god, look at you,' he can barely think, his thoughts fragmented, lost in the instinctual need to bury himself deeper, to take more, to feel more. the way you tighten around him, the slick, wet warmth of your cunt — he’s fucking drowning in it.

'fucking beautiful.'

a few thrusts of akutagawa’s hips and his name tears from your lips in a breathless, desperate cry, the sound of your orgasm crashing over you like a truck, slamming into him with brutal force. your walls flutter and clench around his cock, milking him, dragging him deeper into the molten heat of your release.

his vision blurs, heart thundering in his chest as his hearing dulls to nothing but the wet, obscene noises of your bodies joined together. for the first time in his life, he is obliterated by the sheer, soul-stealing intensity of his orgasm, his cock still twitching violently as he spills deep inside you, his seed mingles with the blood smeared between you, the combined essence finally breaking the curse’s seal.

“i-is it over?”

akutagawa doesn’t answer immediately, his forehead pressing against your shoulder as he struggles to gather himself. his meaty length that's still buried inside you twitches, body refusing to move, refusing to let go of the impossible warmth and tightness of your walls. the thought of pulling out feels unbearable, like he’d be severing himself from something sacred.

“yes,” he finally rasps, “the curse is broken.”

still, he doesn’t move, his grip on your hips tightening imperceptibly. every inch of him aches to stay like this, to savor the raw, feral perfection of you wrapped around him. but he won’t say it — not to you, not to your highness. it’s not his place to speak such desires aloud. instead, he forces himself to swallow the words, forcing his breathing to even out as he pulls out of you despite the burning need still coiling in his gut.

without a word, he moves to gather your clothes, fingers brushing over your skin tenderly in a way that feels foreign coming from him, as if he’s afraid that, if he rushes, it’ll break something.

“rest, your highness. please, don’t move,” he ties the fabric hovering near your ear as his soft upper lip brushes your sensitive skin with a low murmur. “you’re safe now.”

“safe...” you repeat the word, almost testing it on your tongue.

“at least for now, but the curse... it doesn’t work like that. it’s not just broken once. it could flare up again in a few days... and when it does,” he pauses, allowing his words to settle in for a few seconds. “we’ll have to repeat the ritual.”

he’s a liar. a filthy, self-loathing liar.

the curse is broken. it has been broken since that moment. nothing will flare up again. it’s absolutely impossible. the ritual is complete. there is no reason for him to say this, no reason at all. but still, he can’t help himself. he lies, not to protect you—but to keep you. to keep you near him, just a little longer.

“we’ll have our next time soon,” he mutters to himself, he hates himself for it. every fiber of his being recoils at the thought of deceiving you like this, manipulating you with his twisted words, but the words are already sealed in his mind. mostly like a promise — one he will keep. and this time, he won’t stop.

TAGS: @a-smol-bean @violetbutterflix @amanoava @falloutjuli @embersweapons @warriordemigosworld @cathias @v15aexe @vasarii @pe4rl-diver @sukidenks @dazaifavbandage @chuuminn @fyodorsprettynun @ace-0fspades69 @irasamu @trippyserval @alyszuha @bittysuguru @writingandmusing @corruptedwrathkitsune @thedamselzelda @fyodorssimp1 @vikkinakahara @laylabuurr @perlaslibrary @remlionheart @osamucide @ranpazz @naviiq

[spiderb00]

- Fam out #7

Sophia Laforteza x reader  

“The dinner with has finally arrived, and it's time to find out who Evie is! Luckily, your girlfriend is always by your side” 

Genre – fluff        warnings - none 

Now playing – Rude, by MAGIC! 

“can i have your daughter for the rest of my life?” 

previous chapter | next chapter | masterlist

"You're right. This is bad."  

Manon's girlfriend was the first to speak. After you told everyone that Yoonchae had a girlfriend, silence settled over the room. You freaking out, Sophia rolling her eyes at every word that came out of your mouth and each of the girls in the living room giving you their own reactions to this information.   

Yoonchae wasn't present at the small reunion you called. And now, you wondered what the girl was doing.   

“Babe.” Manon patted her girlfriend's belly, scolding her. Knowing that she was only saying that to make you feel crazier.  

“What?” Her girlfriend asked, laughing. "We don't know this girl. She could be a criminal! A drug dealer who will put Yoonchae in the middle of her business!"  

You widened your eyes, looking at Sophia as if to ask if this was a possibility, causing the woman to deny it and snort, before putting her hands on her head in a sign of despair. Sophia had been struggling with all your outbursts ever since the maknae dropped the bombshell in both your laps. At first she thought your concern for Yoonchae was cute, but now it was starting to get on her nerves.  

“Baby, Yoonchae's girlfriend is not a drug dealer.” Sophia said, looking at you as she stroked the messy strands of hair on your head, before looking at Manon's girlfriend with a frown. “Eve is just a seventeen-year-old girl.”  

“You don't know how today's teenagers think...” Manon's girlfriend continued.  

"All right, that's it. You're grounded! Go wait in my room!" Manon pointed to the stairs. The brunette's voice was authoritative and made her girlfriend wince slightly, before standing up.   

Megan and her girlfriend were laughing at the whole situation, as was Lara's girlfriend, who got a little nip from the Indian girl. Only to discover that she was trying to hold in her laughter too.   

“ Grounding?” Daniela's girlfriend asked sarcastically, receiving a middle finger from the girl who was now climbing the stairs.   

“Do you want to join her?” Daniela asked, making her girlfriend wipe the smile off her face and shake her head negatively.   

"Sorry. I'm trying to deal with her hyperactivity." Manon explained before letting the conversation continue.   

“Look, guys, I know it seems a bit weird to have Yoonchip dating, but it was bound to happen at some point.” You groaned in disappointment at your girlfriend's words. “She's growing up and we can't protect her from everything forever.” Another groan of disapproval. “All we can do is guide her and hope that this girl is really nice.” You groaned again in disapproval.   

This time you really managed to get your girlfriend's attention.   

“All right, if you do that one more time you'll be waiting upstairs with Manon's girlfriend!”   

Turning off the lights in the bathroom, you walked towards your bed, the house was silent and you were still thinking about the conversation you had with the girls earlier. At the same time as you thought you were overreacting, you swore that you just didn't want Yoonchae to get hurt.   

You knew more than anyone how cruel first love can be, how exciting and scary. You've had your own experience, and you've struggled a lot to really have a love like the one you have with Sophia. You just don't want things to go wrong for Yoonchae like they did for you.   

Walking over to the bed, you pulled back the blanket, lying down on the right side of the bed - you always slept on this side, because your girlfriend didn't like sleeping near the door. Sighing, you leaned your head against Sophia's shoulder, the woman reading what she always read before going to bed.  

“Do you think I'm exaggerating?” You asked as you kissed the Filipina's shoulder.   

“I think you're worrying too much.” Putting down the book, Sophia grabbed your hand, kissing your knuckles. “Yoonchae is smart, she knows how to take care of herself.”   

“She's still just a child to me...”   

"I think she'll always be just a child to all of us, Mahal. But we have to face the fact that she's growing up."  

You nodded, kissing Sophia's shoulder again before you heard a light knock on the door to your room.   

After a little “Come in” from Sophia, the topic of the moment poked his head into the room. The typical little smile on her face.   

“I just came to say good night...”  

The Korean girl looked shy, almost as if she were tiptoeing around, avoiding starting a conversation she didn't want to or even giving you another heart attack.   

Sighing, you sat up properly on the bed, patting the space between you and Sophia with your hand. With a shy smile on her face, Yoonchae approached, crawling on the soft mattress until she was sitting between you and your girlfriend. 

“Sorry about my reaction before, Yoonchip...” You began, attracting curious looks not only from the maknae, but also from your girlfriend. "I guess I got too overprotective with you. I just don't want you to go through the same things I did."  

Yoonchae's gaze was compassionate, as if she completely understood your point. Meanwhile, Sophia looked at you in confusion, she knew that you hadn't had good experiences with love before, but at no point did she associate this with your protectiveness towards Yoonchae.   

“All right, I understand.” Yoonchae said, taking your hand in hers. "But I promise, Evie is great! She's not an idiot and I certainly wouldn't be with her if she was one."  

Smiling, you ran your thumb over the back of the girl's hand. Sophia just watched the whole interaction between the two of you, stroking Yoonchae's hair. "I know you don't. You're too smart not to notice if something's wrong."   

Laughing, you and the girls let a comfortable silence fall between you. The mood quickly became more relaxed as the guarded words were spoken.   

"Look, how about you invite Evie for dinner tomorrow? Then we can get to know her once and for all..."   

"REALLY? That would be great!" The girl perked up, jumping out of bed as she ran towards the door. "I'll text her and tell her everything. I love you!"  

The door closed with a satisfying click, Yoonchae probably running towards her room, texting Evie. Meanwhile, the woman next to you looked at you with admiration.   

“I'm so proud of you.” Sophia said, pulling you close so that she could lie on your chest.   

“It was the right thing to do.” You reply, stroking Sophia's hair before closing your eyes, breathing in relief at having resolved the tension between you and Yoonchae.   

“You're going to be a wonderful mother, you know that?” Sophia's words made you open your eyes, only to see that the woman was already looking at you with passionate eyes. “I can't wait to have a family with you.”  

Reaching out, your fingertips brushed against Sophia's chin, pulling the Filipina closer until your lips touched. The kiss was slow, tender and passionate. The idea of starting a family always left your hearts beating at a much faster pace than normal.  

“I'm going to be the happiest woman in the world when that happens!” 

“How do I look?” You asked Sophia for the second time.   

The woman - who was standing in front of the mirror, putting on her earrings - rolled her eyes with a smile, before finally turning towards you, grabbing the collar of your shirt and pulling you into a quick kiss. The sensation of her gloss on your lips made you want more than a lip seal.   

“You look beautiful!” The Filipina said, loosening your shirt and smoothing out the places crumpled by her grip. “You seem to be more nervous than Yoonchae.”  

As if on cue, the younger girl came into the room like a hurricane.  

“HOW DO I LOOK?”   

Laughing, Sophia glanced between the two of you, before turning once more to the dressing table mirror. “Wow, you two really could be mother and daughter...”  

“You look beautiful.” You said, ignoring your girlfriend's comment. “Relax, she'll find you beautiful anyway.”   

The sound of the doorbell ringing made Yoonchae's heart race again, fearing that her girlfriend had finally arrived. She knew that Evie was punctual, so she went downstairs as quickly as possible.   

“DON'T RUN ON THE STAIRS!”  

You nodded. God save your future children from Sophia's screams.   

Yoonchae, meanwhile, opened the door, slightly out of breath. Her smile faded as soon as she saw the scene in front of the house. Manon's girlfriend's arms around Evie's shoulders as she said something nonsensical to the girl - who by now looked pretty bored. The girls were all behind the pair, huddled by the door touching up their make-up or fixing their hair.   

“Hi Yoonchip, look who we found by practically ringing the doorbell.” Manon's girlfriend entered, dragging Evie along with her, not before winking at the maknae.   

“Baby, leave the girl alone!” Manon said, coming in right after.   

“Hey girl.” Daniela's girlfriend was the next to enter. A backpack on her back and the smell of smoke permeating her clothes.   

"God, where were you? In a barbecue?" Yoonchae complained, turning away from the woman as she let her into the house. 

“She's just come off a shift at work.” Daniela explained, smiling at her girlfriend as she watched her all dirty.  

"First, get that look off your face. That's disgusting." Yoonchae said, looking at the Latina like she was insane. "And you, use the bathroom in the guest room. You can change there too."  

“I love you, Yoonchip.” The woman said, coming forward to hug the maknae.  

“HEY!” Yoonchae shouted, pulling away from the woman with her hands raised, putting distance between the two. “Save that mess for Dani.”  

Laughing, the firewoman climbed the stairs. Yoonchae just watched as Daniela followed her girlfriend. Mumbling something about helping her with her clothes. As the Latina walked up the stairs, you walked down, looking at the woman with a confused look as she seemed a little too excited - at least for someone who was just going to help her girlfriend with her clothes.  

“Hey, you guys are here.” You said, seeing Megan and Lara with their girlfriends. “Nothing from the special guest?”  

"She's already arrived. Manon's girlfriend is stuck on her." Megan's girlfriend said, laughing as she was accompanied by Lara's girlfriend.  

“Poor girl.” You said. “All right, how about you go and rescue your girlfriend and I'll take care of the door.”  

Yoonchae nodded, heading towards the kitchen, but not before whispering a “thank you” to you.  

"Have you finally come to terms with all this? Lara was the first to ask. All the girls watched you sigh and shrug.  

“Well, it was bound to happen at some point.”  

Dinner went well, as far as that was possible. After Sophia finished getting ready and Daniela and her girlfriend came downstairs flushed and panting, you finally started dinner. The conversation didn't flow as much, an awkward silence settled in at times, causing Sophia to start a conversation - which would soon end, making the silence take over again.  

"All right. I don't think anyone will ask, so I'll be the brave one here!" Manon's girlfriend began, causing everyone at the table to turn their heads attentively towards her. "How did you two meet? Like, since when does Yoonchae have time to get to know someone?"  

Yoonchae opened her mouth, only to close it again, not knowing what to say. All eyes were on her and she hated it.  

“We met at school.” Evie was the first to speak. “We did a project together.”  

The girl's hand grabbed Yoonchae's under the table. Hearing her girlfriend's breathing calm down, Evelyn calmed down along with her.  

“Like in the movies, cool.”  

“Awn, how cute.” Megan said, looking at her girlfriend.  

“ Really cute.” The actress agreed.  

“We weren't that close.” Yoonchae began. "But... Evie defended me from some people who were laughing at me."  

You dropped your fork, making the loud clinking of cutlery with plate echo through the house. “Were you getting bullying?  

” “It wasn't bullying.” Yoonchae tried.  

“Yes, it was.” Evie retorted. Evie retorted.  

“All right, maybe it was a little bit...”  

“Yoonchip, why didn't you tell us?” Sophia asked. Reaching across your chair to stroke your back, knowing that you would probably be uncomfortable with this situation.  

" Well. It didn't last long. And Evie sorted it out."  

The table fell silent. Evelyn poked at the piece of chicken on her plate with her fork, squeezing her girlfriend's hand under the table. The girls were standing around, watching the strangely maternal interaction between you and the girls.  

“Thank you for protecting her.” You were the first to speak. Directing your gaze at Evie. The girl giving you a - genuine - tight-lipped smile.  

“Always.” 

“So, now we have another teenager dating,” you said, lying on the bed while you waited for Sophia to come out of the bathroom.  

The girls had already gone home, Yoonchae would be sleeping at the Kats' tonight, so when dinner was over and you'd finished washing all the evening's dishes, you went upstairs and waited patiently for your girlfriend to come out of the bathroom.  

“Isn't it strange how we're all dating at the same time?” You rambled on, staring at the bathroom door, as if Sophia were there.  

You could hear the woman grumbling from time to time. You just assumed she was doing her nightly skincare, and chose not to slip into the bathroom with her.  

"Dinner was nice. Maybe you could do it again." You heard a small murmur of agreement coming from the bathroom. "God, it's a good thing we don't have another child. I don't think I could handle another teenager starting to date."  

Hearing the bathroom door open, you looked towards the sound. You swore you might faint.  

Sophia, your girlfriend, stood there in the sexiest lingerie you'd ever seen in your life. The teasing smile on her face told you that she had gotten exactly the reaction she wanted from you. The glossy sages drawing your attention to her lips and the bra making you mesmerized. You honestly looked like a deer caught in the headlights.

Walking towards the bed, Sophia climbed on top of you, taking her place on your lap. Taking your hands only to guide them to her waist.  

"You know, Mahal. If we make it hard enough, maybe a few years down the line we'll have another teenager in the house."  

“We can test it!” 

it's almost 3 AM here. I'm dead

drink water and be safe,

xoxo, spider.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

Angel || LN4

Summary: Kingsday gets a little wild, in honour of Lando’s nose. Warnings: alcohol, injuries, blood WC: 1.7k

Lando wasn’t drunk, but he was by no means sober either. Everyone had warned him the Kingsday event was a marathon not a sprint so he was taking it slow, sipping his rum and coke out of the orange paper cup while the river boat cruised its course.

By midafternoon it was another story completely.

Martin had taken a break and let a playlist continue the party without him on the deck while he went in search of Lando. The British driver had reached the point of being tipsy and fallen into a state of drunkenness where he could no longer block out his intrusive thoughts. Everywhere he looked couples were dancing or making out and he couldn’t help the despair of loneliness that separated him from the fun.

Leaning back on the cushions that covered the bow, Lando looked up to the bright blue sky and wondered why he couldn’t find someone that loved him with the same passion he had. He was always the one to fall harder and knew it was why things didn’t work out long-term.

The half empty cup was stolen from his hand and Lando lolled his head to see Martin drinking it dry. “No more for you, my friend. Smile! It’s Kingsday: the sun is out and the music is loud.”

“Sorry,” Lando sighed, not quite able to muster up a real smile.

“What’s wrong?” Martin dropped onto a cushion beside him and nudged his shoulder until Lando spilled the thoughts he was harbouring.

—

“These heels are killing me,” you complained as they wobbled on the cobblestone. “Can we stop for a minute?”

There were groans from some of the guys in the group but their girlfriends silenced them. You smiled gratefully at your friends but knew they were in just as much pain after hours of drinking in the city for Kingsday. The thought of walking any further to the house party someone had invited everyone to nearly had you calling for a taxi, despite the chances of getting one next to nothing.

“Lennon said there will be tons of single guys at the party. In that dress you will totally pull a 10,” Sarah said as she leaned back against the bridge rail and rolled each ankle to ease the ache.

You laughed at the statement and mirrored her position, careful not to drop the glass you had accidentally stolen from the last bar. “Getting laid isn’t the problem, it’s getting the guy to stick around afterwards.”

“Relationships are overrated,” she said, blowing a kiss to Lennon when he looked her way and raised a brow. “Not ours, baby.”

You sighed longingly as they shared a smile. “I want what you guys have.”

“Well then you better hurry up because the love of your life might just be waiting for you. Wouldn’t want to miss that, would you?”

You rolled your eyes but decided that you would continue the walk barefoot and put your heels back on when you got to the house. Leaning against the rail, you balanced on one foot and reached for your heel just as a drunkard went flying past on his e-bike.

“Ah, shit!” you screamed as you lost your balance, toppling back over the rail and straight towards the murky water below.

—

Martin yawned as he listened to Lando’s long winded explanation for why he was alone and all his friends were in relationships.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t realise I was putting you to sleep,” he sassed.

“Well if you want some advice, from someone in a relationship, you’re not helping yourself moping around. For starters, you need to get up,” Martin encouraged as he rose to his feet and offered his friend a hand before the sunlight disappeared, the boat passing under one of the many bridges. “Love isn’t going to just fall into your lap-”

A scream pierced the air before a flurry of orange material crashed onto Lando, both their eyes squinting to readjust to the bright sunlight out of the tunnel.

Your heart hammered in your chest as you realised you were still alive and you looked around to see what had broken your fall. “Holy shit, I am so sorry!”

A stunned man sat beneath you and you reached for his face as you noticed the blood running down his nose. “Oh my god, did I do that? Are you alright? Shit, you probably don’t speak English.”

“He speaks English. It’s getting him to shut up that’s the problem,” a man standing above you said with a laugh. “Lando, mate, snap out of it.”

You started to climb off his lap but his arms tightened around you and he shook his head with a wince. “Don’t move, you might have broken something.”

“Fuck, I’m so sorry,” you apologised again.

“Not me, you muppet,” he laughed. “You might have broken something.”

You patted yourself down, straightening your dress back into place at the same time, but everything felt fine. You tested your wrists and ankles too, only to notice you had indeed broken things.

“What’s the damage?” Lando asked.

“Ego mostly,” you admitted sheepishly. “I think I broke my heel on your face.”

“Pretty sure that was your glass,” he said looking at what remained in your hand, the sting of the cut on your palm finally appearing when you noticed the blood on the broken glass. “How bad is it? Am I hideous?”

“You are still a 10,” you giggled after noticing he was devastatingly handsome, even with the cut across his nose. Grabbing the hem of your dress, you gently dabbed the blood away before realising that it was a stupid idea. “You don’t have any diseases, do you?”

“Rabies,” his friend joked.

“Speak for yourself, mate,” Lando shot back and while they bickered jokingly you heard your name called from the river bank. “Is that your boyfriend?”

“Are you alive?” Lennon shouted as he ran along with the boat.

“Nope, I’ve died and gone to heaven!”

“I’ll let Sarah know!” He grew smaller as he stopped running and the boat continued downstream to some unknown destination.

“That’s my best friend’s boyfriend,” you explained as you patted your bra but found your phone missing. “Can I borrow your phone? I think mine drowned.”

Lando carefully shifted you so he could get to his pocket before settling you back on his lap. The grateful smile you gave him almost made him drop the device and he had to enter his passcode in twice before he got it right.

“Where is this boat heading to?” you asked as the dial tone connected. “Hey, it’s me, calm down, I’m alive.”

“Good, I’ll kill you myself! You gave me a fucking heart attack, woman!” You had to hold the phone away from your ear as she shouted her concern.

“I didn’t do it on purpose, but I’m sorry for giving you a heart attack.”

“As you should be! Len said you landed on some guy. Is he hot?”

Your face heated and you knew he had heard the question with the curious look on his face. “Mhmm, very.”

“You should invite him to the party and do a little sexy dance for him!”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. I kind of…broke his face.”

The silence was damning before you swore you heard her laugh from all the way upstream. “Only you could have the worst luck with men.”

“Trust me, I know all too well. Anyway, they are stopping at the Rose Bridge so I’ll just meet you guys there. Guess my luck isn’t all that bad.”

You ended the call and handed the phone back.

“What party are you going to?” Lando asked as he pocketed it again.

“I don’t know, it’s some house party. There’s a local DJ playing.”

Lando’s smile grew and he pointed to his friend. “Local DJ, ha!”

As it turned out the house party wasn’t actually a party at someone’s house and the DJ wasn’t just locally renowned. Once you were finally introduced to Lando’s friend you found out he was the DJ, Martin Garrix, and Lando was even more famous.

“I can’t afford a lawsuit,” you groaned when you realised you had practically assaulted a celebrity.

“It’s just a scratch,” Lando assured you after Martin found a first aid kick. His poor attempt at wrapping a bandage made Lando look like a mummy so you took the box yourself and found a couple of small butterfly stitches. “Nothing a kiss wouldn’t fix.”

You giggled at his flirty nature you had come to adore in the last hour and if you hadn’t drunk so much liquid courage at the bar you probably wouldn't have been able to lean closer and kiss his cheek. His skin was warm and soft beneath your lips and when you opened your eyes you found his blue eyes staring intently back. “Better?”

He shook his head. “Nope, I think it needs another try.”

“Hmmm, good idea.” You kissed his other cheek and grinned when he pouted. “No? One last try.”

Your fingers delighted in the feel of his soft hair as you combed the curls and dipped your head to his. Your heart rate spiked and you closed your eyes as you kissed his pillow-soft lips teasingly slowly before his hands cupped your face and he deepened the kiss.

You broke away with a small gasp and your eyes were wide with the want for more. It was a look reflected on Lando’s face as he gently stroked your heated cheeks.

“Hey, lovebirds! We’re here,” Martin called as the boat reached the canal edge.

You kicked off your broken heels and Lando frowned before he gave you his, looping his fingers into the straps of your shoes to carry them. You were already wearing his shirt since your dress had his blood on it and you were certain you looked at absolute mess.

“Ready to party, Angel?”

“Angel?”

“What else would I call a beautiful woman who fell from the heavens?” Lando wondered if he was making a mistake and moving to fast like he always did but it was too late, the question was already out there.

“You could call me your girlfriend.” You cringed in an instant. “I mean not tonight, that would be way too quick but-”

Lando cut you off with a kiss and you felt his smile against your lips before he asked, “How about tomorrow?”

[unfinishedslurs]

average batfam dinner conversation

“Maybe try therapy?” Duke suggested. “Just putting that out there. You know, as an idea.”

“You try therapy,” Tim snarked back, jabbing his fork into the broccoli with a worrying amount of fervor. 

“It would be good for you.” Cass grinned mischievously over her plate at Duke. He narrowed his eyes, and there was a muffled thump beneath the table. It was immediately followed by a slightly louder thump, and he yelped. 

Bruce really thought the kids knew better than to pick fights with her at this point. 

Duke scowled as he rubbed his shin. “I’m the best adjusted out of all you assholes.”

“Lies and slander,” Dick declared. “There is no ‘best adjusted’ out of us, and if there were it would be me.”

Everyone turned and stared at him for that. He stared back with a bright smile, daring them to challenge the notion. 

He was lucky Jason wasn’t here, because he would have picked a fight instantly. Especially because he’d been there for the worst of his and Dick’s fights, back when their family was smaller but somehow no less complicated. The rest of his kids were too tired to argue the point, thank god. 

“I went to therapy once.”

Now everyone was staring at him instead. He took another bite of his food. 

“Uh…are you going to elaborate or anything?” Duke asked. 

Bruce chewed, swallowed, and sighed. “The therapist kidnapped me and held me for ransom.”

“Oh my god.”

“That explains…a lot.”

“You mean everything about him?” 

That was hurtful. It didn’t explain everything about him. That would be ignoring both his parents deaths and finding out he lived above a giant cave that was the perfect size for a secret lair. Really, Dick, he expected better. 

“Sorry that happened,” Cass said, because she loves him the most. Then she added, “It does track.”

Never mind. Bruce was going to die cold and alone, rather than be surrounded by his army of tiny traitors. At least Damian was eating quietly, although he could see him hiding his gaming counsel beneath the table. He was supposed to be grounded, but Bruce could only deal with so many losing battles a day. 

“What if you went to a therapist outside of Gotham?” Duke suggested, apparently having latched onto the idea of Bruce seeing a professional. He didn’t know why. All in all, he thought he was handling things pretty well. 

Tim snorted. “Yeah, and then they’d take off their mask at the end of the session to reveal it was Ra’s al Ghul all along.”

“Yeah, okay, fair. But like, Ra’s al Ghul? That’s who you’re going with? Seems out of his area of expertise.”

“If you ask him, nothing is out of his expertise. He’s probably got, like, three psychology degrees or something.”

“More,” Damian said. The final holdout in the children's war against his mental health this evening. Bruce quietly despairs. “He is a knowledgeable man. Although most of the degrees he has earned are not legally recognized, as he did not actually go to a university for them. I myself have obtained several while living with the League.”

Duke nodded along. “So what I’m hearing is we hire Ra’s to be Bruce’s therapist.”

Tim immediately choked on his chicken and fell out of his chair. Dick had a similar reaction, erupting in a coughing fit that nearly toppled him too. Cass just laughed loudly. Damian was looking at Duke with disturbance written across his face. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Bruce decided then and there not to mention that he actually had confided in Ra’s some while training under the League. He’d take the secret to his grave, if only not to give Duke more steam. 

“Could be funny,” Cass said. “Mental illness? All illness can be cured with my special green pool.”

There was a strange silence after she said that, as if his kids were waiting for something. Dick frowned and leaned over Tim’s chair. “Tim? Buddy? Are you dead? You didn’t even make a joke about Jason being sick in the head.”

“Did I kill Tim?” Duke asked. “Shit, Jason’s gonna be pissed. He’s gonna have to stop calling him a cockroach.”

“Don’t worry, Thomas. The name still fits perfectly.”

Maybe he could skip patrol tonight and just…go to bed for once. Take a break. Smoke a joint and watch Real Housewives of Metropolis again, if only to quietly make fun of Superman’s guest appearance. Or loudly, if he felt like antagonizing Clark. 

“Wait, no, I think he’s actually choking, hold on-“ Dick’s chair tumbled over as he rushed to give Tim the Heimlich. Cass’s eyes widened, and she quickly grabbed a trashcan to save the floors. Bruce got a glass of water ready as he retched. 

Tim’s head popped up from under the table, and he pointed at Duke. “We have got to hang out more,” he rasped. 

Duke looked touched. “I just almost killed you.”

“That’s how I make all my friends, you’re not special.” He accepted the water, and Bruce quietly despaired as he helped him up. Why were his children friends with such dangerous people?

There’s a little voice niggling in the back of his head that says that maybe if he didn’t want his children to be friends with dangerous people, he should lead by example instead of befriending the most dangerous people on earth. He pushed it away. 

Damian sniffs. “Your self preservation skills are abhorrent, Drake. I should never have even bothered putting in an effort to get rid of you, your stupidity will make quick work of you sooner rather than later.”

“Puh-lease, like none of your friends have tried to kill you.”

“Obviously not. My instincts are far superior to yours.”

“Horton hears a bitch ass liar,” Tim singsongs, and immediately has to duck back under the table to dodge the fork that was thrown at him. Thank God Alfred wasn’t in the room for it. If the silver was scratched, Alfred would give him the I’m not mad just disappointed face. As if it’s Bruce’s fault his children are like this.

He takes zero responsibility. They came to him like that.