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#like woody or buzz were
mis3rabl3m3lody · 2 years
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Hey uhhhhhhh,,, new Layton AU/crossover time??
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I just recently thought of this when I re-watched the Toy Story trilogy for the 1000th time. Basically this is a Professor Layton/Toy Story AU(could also technically be a crossover dhdhdb) where most of the PL cast(Hershel, Emmy, Descole, Don Paolo, etc.) are Luke's toys that he goes on imaginary adventures with, and has an entire established world based around them. The professor is Luke's favorite toy; the boy loved his Professor Layton doll just as much as he loved puzzles. He couldn't quite explain why, but the professor really felt like a second father to Luke. He, along with his Emmy Altava action figure and Flora Reinhold doll that he thinks of as big sisters, made the boy feel like he could take on any challenge, solve any problem. They acted as a source of encouragement and inspiration for Luke. The professor doll, in Luke's eyes, was the spitting image of a true gentleman, and Luke wanted to grow up to be just like him. As the professor's self proclaimed "apprentice", Luke would make sure to spend every day learning the ways of the English gentleman, setting rules for himself as he imagines the professor would, and always finding new puzzles to solve. After all, as the professor would say(in Luke's mind, that is): "A true gentleman leaves no puzzle unsolved"
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megatraven · 2 years
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when toy story 4 came out i watched it a lot but i cant bring myself to watch it anymore bc it just makes me Sad and i really wish it hadn’t ended the way it did v_v
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husband-steve-cortez · 7 months
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Horny ending: Miles and Kaidan both dress up as cheerleaders and when they inevitably duck out to a closet to make out with each other one of them says "B-but we're both girls" which just absolutely skyrockets the mood for reasons not easily explained and Kaidan stumbles out of the closet with lipstick marks all up and down his scantily clad body and then Miles comes out and has a compact mirror and is reapplying his lipstick and Kaidan is like "gimme that" and pushing Miles back into the closet
True ending: Miles and Kaidan show up to halloween parties in cute pg-13 at most elaborately themed couples costumes or simply matching costumes that don't make either of them insatiably horny.
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luvwestwood · 4 months
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"Off Limits" - Gojo Satoru
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4,120 words.
warnings. n*sfw (18+), tongue piercing satoru, substance use, satoru is a plug, fuckboy! satoru, oral sex (he eats your pussy OUT) , both characters 🚬 🍃, resolved sexual tension, porn with a BIT of plot, mildly dubious consent, fucking at a party, he makes you squirt
notes. this was originally posted on my ao3, which is much more longer. i've shortened it down and fixed errors I made on ao3 originally (see if you could notice what it is 😭)for tumblr so its more of an easy read! <3
banner cred. @/yunonoai on twt/ig
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You had about an hour and half to get ready, before you had to make your way to the Mappa Frat House down the street. Chloe's brother, Satoru, and his friends were inviting you two to some house party they held every year building up to Halloween.
To be real, it took you A LOT of convincing for Chloe to have you come to the party with her. You were never a party person. The thought of throwing up your guts after your system has consumed all types of shit. Or the annoying guys that slap your ass from behind in hopes of getting time with you in the bedrooms upstairs.
You were the total opposite of Chloe, and honestly, you envied her. She was a social butterfly who could blend in with anyone if she needed to, and she was evidently liked by the other students of any clique out there.
Oh, and by party animal, I mean it. Dresses in every colour, length and pattern. Heels of every inch and style. She just knew what to do. Practically, if you got her to go to your party, that's how you'd know if it was a good fucking party. 
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Sitting in front of your desk finishing your makeup, which you were surprisingly good at, you giggle as you watch Chloe attached a lasso to her waist.
She had looked really cute in her Woody costume, and you were in fact, dressed as a sexy Buzz Lightyear. Earlier on at Ann Summers, Chloe was begging for you to match with her. You couldn’t refuse. It was a 2 for 1 sale anyway..
You smiled as she started to record a few tiktoks before hitting the road.
"I'm gonna have so much fun with this rope tonight."
"Mhm.." you let out a hum as you focus on doing your eyeliner. It was hard not to laugh at what she said, but you managed to suppress a giggle.
You lined some lashes with glue before placing them on your lash line. Your makeup was flawless tonight, and you were grateful because it had been quite some time since you've done a full glam. A bit of setting spray, and you spun your chair around to face Chloe.
It was as if she was a proud mother from what she was seeing in front of her. "Gorgeous! You look like a doll. A sexy one. Stand up really quickly, let's take a few pictures before heading out."
You stumbled a bit from the high heeled boots you were wearing, and you had to adjust the fabric your ass was practically eating as you stood up. You and Chloe took a few cute pictures before heading out to the Mappa House.
As you guys got there, it was already packed with all shit ton of people spread out on the front lawn doing all sorts of stuff.
The loud music from the inside could be heard from where you were standing. People were smoking, making out, doing keg stands.
Honestly, Chloe was right. You looked at a group of girls huddled and chatting near the door, and one caught your eye. The girl was wearing nothing but black tape on her boobs and underwear.
You nudge Chloe. “Chlo, what is she meant to be..?”
She giggled a bit before replying, “Who knows.”
You got a bit nervous as you walked on the path leading up to the main door. Spooky Halloween decorations were all over the House, and sometimes you were unable to tell what and what's not a decoration..
A man was standing just inside the door, it seemed like he was waiting for Chloe.
The guy dressed up as Johnny Cage from Mortal Kombat. You'd never seen him before, and he looked a bit intimidating.
You heard Chloe call out to the man. "Kento!" ..So that's his name. You stood behind Chloe like a loser as she gave him a hug. She pulled away and stayed pressed up against him. 
He smiled, "I'm glad you came. And who's this pretty girl?"
Kento turned to you as you looked at Chloe, she held you close to her too and gave you a proper introduction. "This is my best friend and room-mate, I convinced her to come along tonight!"
You returned the smile to him, he seemed like an okay guy. "Hi, nice to meet you."
Chloe winked at you, and you smirked, knowing what it meant. You gave her the look of approval as she took her lasso and tied it around Kento, pulling him to a room somewhere in the house.
You laughed as you made your way to the kitchen, after they disappeared up the stairs. How outrageous.
It was more quiet, which you liked. Making your way to the far end of the kitchen, you opened the fridge and scanned what's inside. You decided to take a small can of Pepsi. You sighed as you turned around, closing the fridge shut with your butt.
The presence of someone behind all along startled you, leaning against the island watching you this whole time. 
"Oh my fuck. Why are you creeping up on people like that?"
It was a person, assumingly a guy, his face covered with a ghostface mask. He was dressed in all black. A simple black fitted tee and jeans. He had a fake knife strapped to his belt.
The mysterious guy took off his mask, and placed it on the counter behind him. Of course, It was Satoru, Chloe's brother.
You let out a labored sigh as you leaned against the fridge, unable to move.
"I'm surprised you showed up tonight, I thought you never will."
You slowly slid to the right trying to escape him, turning your back to face Satoru as you popped the can open on the counter. "...It was a last minute decision."
"Seems like you got a costume too, huh?" Eyes sliding down your body as he finished his sentence.
Your eyes widen, realising your ass was on show to him this whole time. I'll kill this man if he thinks I'm up to no good.
You quickly turn back around to face him with the front of your body, and it didn't do you any justice as he was just met with your almost exposed chest. Party in the front, party in the back.
"I'm not complaining, you look good." he reassured you, trailing his eyes down your body from head to toe.
"..Thanks." Quickly, you took a huge sip from the can as you looked at him. This drink will only un-calm my nerves.
"I'm actually not into parties myself either." he spoke, and you almost choked on your drink.
"You? THE Satoru Gojo? I wasn't expecting that."
"No, I just like more intimate parties. Big ones like these annoy me. I don't know and don't care about 3/4 of the people who are here."
He continued, “You wanna come with? I’m going upstairs. There’s one last free room. And that’s the master room.”
Chloe was already busy, and there wasn’t really anyone else you could talk to around here. You had no choice.
”Hmm, okay. I’ll follow.”
He made sure to grab his mask from the counter, and the two of you left the kitchen.
As you made your way up the stairs, you could feel other girls eyes piercing through your back like daggers. Luckily, they couldn’t recognise you that easily.
By the time you set foot on the upstairs landing, you called out to him. "Satoru," you continued, "Who's room is this even?"
"Suguru’s, but it's cool. He won't give a fuck."
You followed behind him for a bit until you reached the master bedroom.
”Lock the door if you don’t want people coming into this room eating each other’s faces off.”
You blankly stared at him for a bit before turning back around to twist the lock. The music from downstairs turned faint and so did the chatter.
For a frat house, Suguru’s room was actually clean, you expected dirty plates and what-ever-the-fuck to litter the rest of the room, but the only exception was the clothes scattered on the ground. You watched and sat yourself down on the bed as he rummaged through the drawers for something.  Is he… reaching for a.. 
He picked up a lighter from deep inside the drawer, taking a joint out that was untouched from the same drawer, but kept away in a tiny zip bag. Phew.
”You smoke?”
You looked at him. “What do you think?”
”I’m guessing no.” You didn't know if you were to be butthurt by his quick and certain answer, but you don't see a reason why you should be anyways. His words went a bit quiet as he concentrated on sparking the joint between his fingers.
He took a hit from the joint as soon as it was burning perfectly. “Damn, that shits good.”
”Is Suguru not gonna be pissed if he finds out you took that..?” You questioned him.
”..Who do you think sold this stuff to him?” He flashed his famous smile as he saw the priceless look on your face.
You chewed on your lip and looked at the ground. “Oh, right.. yeah.”
You forgot that Satoru was basically the one who sold 🍃 on and off the campus.
He walked over to you, and sat beside you on the edge of the bed. “You don’t wanna try?”
Satoru took another hit before blowing the smoke out on his right side, making sure it doesn’t hit your face.
“I don’t know. I’ve never done it before, plus I’m scared.” You continued, “More scared I’ll start coughing like a bitch that I’d make a fool out of myself.”
Even though the only source of light came from the bedside lamp, you could still see that his eyes were glossy, and at this point a tiny bit bloodshot. “I could teach you, here.”
He held out the joint towards you, the smell was so strong it was probably sticking to your clothes by now.
”Quick, it’s burning away for no reason.”
You held the joint between your fingers like a cigarette, and looked at him for assurance.
”No, not like that.” He took your fingers and placed it properly between your pointer and thumb. “You look like a loser if you hold it like a cigarette.”
”Okay, what now.”
”Do it, take a hit.”
You stared at it before bringing it to your lips. Satoru spoke from beside you.
”Like, almost as if you’re sucking. Make sure it really gets to here.” He points to his chest.
You slightly squint your eyes as you take a mistakingly big hit.
”Now hold it for a bit, then exhale. It’s gonna hit better.”
The joint left your lips as you held it for like two seconds, and you let out a laboured exhale.
“Good girl, see? No coughing.”
You passed it back to him and Satoru takes another hit.
”..How’d I know if it hit me?”
He smirked, “You’ll just know. Don’t worry, I got you.”
All of a sudden, it felt like everything slowed down and your face was being grabbed to the ground.
You felt a bit relaxed knowing that Satoru was beside you, and you managed to take a hit without embarrassing yourself and going all snotty.
Unwillingly, you take the joint back from his hand to take another hit.
”What happened to Ms. I don’t smoke?”
You rolled your eyes before you passed it back to him again. 
Satoru smiled at your reaction before speaking again. “You wanna play a game?” 
Stomach churning, and not really liking where this is going, you answered. “..like what?”
”I ask you a couple questions and you answer, then you do the same to me.”
You snickered. “Isn’t that just called ‘getting to know each other’?”
”Yeah, I just wanted to make it sound more interesting.”
“Okay, why not.”
“How about, if you refuse to answer a question you take off one piece of clothing.”
You looked at him with a , ‘nice try’ face. ”Nuh uh. Not happening. Just ask the questions.”
”Aww, it was worth a shot.”
“Start asking questions or I’ll change my mind,” you changed your position on the bed to lie down on your stomach. It was more comfortable than stiffly sitting on the edge of the bed.
”You ever had a boyfriend?”
”Once. But I was like sixteen.”
Satoru just nods. “Your turn.”
“Did getting your tongue piercing hurt?”
He turned to you and smirked, “I’m surprised you noticed it. But nahh. Not really, it was just the healing process that hurted.”
Your face slightly grew warm, “…Yeah, I noticed it yesterday.”
He just smiles, and asks his second question. “You ever gotten your pussy ate before?”
You swallowed your spit as you propped yourself up slightly. “I’m sorry, what?”
”You heard me.” He takes another hit of the joint even though it’s almost shrunken to the smallest it can be.
You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “…No.”
”…Good.” Satoru muttered, but you couldn’t really hear.
It was your turn to ask question again.
”..Why’d you want to get it pierced anyways?”
”Dunno. Why’d you think?”
Silence and tension grew between the two of you. You didn’t know if the naughty answer that crossed your mind was right or wrong. 
You didn’t know if it was the temperature of the room or the shit you smoked. You avoided answering his question.
”…Y-your turn to ask the question.”
His next question came out immediately.
“..Wanna see for yourself?”
Your breath hitched as he spoke. You didn’t know what to say. And you didn’t know what he meant.
”Is that a question you’re using up or are you just saying that… as a joke..”
Satoru stood up and walked over to the dresser, placing his costume props on top. In fact, he took everything out of his pockets and placed it on the dresser. 
You watched him glance at his phone for a bit, reading all the messages from his other homies before placing it down on the dresser and not replying.
A pool was forming between your legs, and you gently clamped them together while still lying down.
You’d be lying if you said you totally didn’t want to strip everything off and be naked by the time he turns back around. But you kept your composure.
Satoru turned back around, walking back to the bed. He sat on the same edge he was on a few minutes ago.
”And what if I do wanna find out,” You spoke, testing the waters.
His voice was laced with honesty. “I don’t want to push you out of your boundaries, we don’t have to do this. We can forget that this happened and my sister won’t ever know I was near you.”
A few thoughts were racing through your mind. I mean, Chloe was busy, you literally had weed in your system and you never thought you would’ve. There’s a first for everything, right?
You gently crawled over across the bed,  closer to him. “…No, I do want you to show me.” Your voice trailed off quietly, you grew shy as you drew back.
He turned his head behind to face you, and was able to see the sincerity in your eyes. Not gonna lie, he was very attractive. And I was literally begging to have his head between my legs.
You came closer to him again, and found yourself placing your lips on his first. The two of you melted into each other, with the lingering sexual tension finally resolved. 
The good girl act no longer existed, and time around you felt like it had stopped. This was something you needed, and you finally got it.
He was extremely gentle with his hands, and softly guided you to move back further onto the bed, placing your head down on the pillow.
You slightly squirmed as he placed his knee between your legs. He pulled away from your neck  before looking at you from above, caressing your cheek with his thumb. 
“Just relax doll, I’ll take care of everything.” He left you with a peck on the lips as he slowly peppered a trail of kisses down your body, going lower and lower.
Your breath hitched as he cupped both of his hands around each of your thighs, kissing your inner thigh as he looked up at you in between.
His hands were cold, and caused your nipples to harden from his touch. But the heat of your body cause him to warm up in no time. He paused for a moment. “Can I?”  Satoru points to your tiny shorts before you responded with a nod. You slid them off and threw them somewhere in the room. You’ll find those later.
You watched as he used his teeth to teasingly slide your thong off your body, down your legs. You grew goosebumps from the feeling of the fabric slowly gliding down your skin.
It was painfully slow, but it made you want him even more. He knew what he was doing, and for your first time getting eaten out, it was like winning the lottery if Satoru was the one doing it.
He took them from his mouth, and placed it in the back pocket of his jeans before kissing past your inner thigh, Satoru placed a wet kiss on your throbbing clit before doing a few small licks with his tongue.
The mixture between the metal of his piercing and tongue made you shudder, causing you to whine and clamp your thighs around his head gently.
You felt Satoru's soft hands grip slightly your skin firmer, spreading your legs more apart and keeping them wide open for him. You were expecting his hands to be cold, but surprisingly your skin was met with his warm touch. He sucked on your clit gently, before lapping at it again hungrily.
Your two hands were occupied themselves, one grabbed onto his hair and the other clutched onto the sheets beside you. He only pushed his tongue deeper into you, basically gently fucking your hole with it.
Practically losing your mind from how good Satoru made you feel, you could tell he was enjoying every single noise and reaction you made. You felt the way he smiled against your dripping cunt as he cycled from sucking to licking.
”…Don’t.. stop..” you continued, in short breaths. “…Please”
He hummed gently with his eyes closed, his lips glossed with his spit and the juices from your pussy, and the sound of someone’s phone ringing echoed in your ears, releasing you from your trance.
You looked down at him annoyed as he hauled his head up from your legs. “Not my phone, mines silent on the dresser.”
You turned to the far end of the bed to your left and saw your phone screen was flashing. Reaching for it, you saw Chloe was the one calling.
Turning the phone screen for Satoru to see, he squinted his eyes a bit to read who the caller was. “You can answer,”
Before answering the call you laughed a bit, as you saw how ridiculous you made him look after grabbing his hair.
”Chloe?” You watched Satoru as he tried to listen in on the conversation.
He whispered, “Put it on speaker.”
You nodded, and Chloe could be heard on the other line speaking.
”Hey girl, just checking on you. You okay?” You heard her and Kento giggle as she tried to speak over the phone. But it was a bit louder around her, so that means they were with a bunch of other people now.
”Yeah, I’m…” Your eyes widen and flutter as felt as Satoru placed his head back down between your thighs, slowly and slightly lapping at your clit again with the cold metal orb on his tongue causing you to throb again.
You felt as he carelessly swirled his tongue around like there’s no tomorrow, but this time he let one of your legs go and thrusted a finger in and out of your hole, emitting a squelching noise as he continuously sucked, stimulating you like crazy.
The pleasure overwhelmed you, and you had to bite down on your bottom lip to suppress a moan.
”Heyyy, you there?”
You were unable to answer as your own words became nothing but breathy as you try to form a sentence.
”…Y-Yeah, everything’s fine. I’m in the…b-bathroom.” You felt his lips curl into a smirk against your inner thigh for a second time as he heard your little lie over the phone.
You furrow your brows, making an “O” shape with your mouth.
Your hand holding the phone fell flat onto the bed, and by now you were no longer listening to whatever Chloe was saying on the other side of the line. Your mind was clouded, and the knot in your stomach tightened as you felt an orgasm approaching.
Lucky for you, Chloe ended the call less than ten seconds ago as it seems like she was busy with something else. Hopefully Kento.
He felt the way you quivered even more than last time, and held one of your legs over his left shoulder as he thrusted another finger in, still lapping and sucking at your dripping cunt as your breathing quickened, becoming irregular.
”Cum all over my face,” He murmured against your warm lips, and that did it for you. You liked the way he was gentle with his hands, slowly using one to rub your thigh on his left shoulder. He was deep in there, and he ate your pussy like it was a five course meal.
You watched as him as you rode out your orgasm, your head falling back against the pillow. Your mind was all over the place as you endlessly squirted all over his fingers that curled inside of you to aid your high, and felt as you slightly pushed your body more towards him.
“S-shit..” Was all you could say. You saw the way the piercing was exposed for a split second as he stuck his tongue out, the juices from your release dripping all over his mouth.
As he gently pulled away from between your legs, a ‘pop’ noise was heard after he gave your clit one last suck. 
You couldn’t help but laugh at the way his face was soaking wet.  Luckily it didn’t go past his above nose. Or he’d be partially blind for the rest of the night.
The neck of his shirt managed to be slightly soaked with splatters from your juices. But he didn’t care.
“..You got a little something on your face..” You say, pointing to your mouth with your finger to tell him where it was.
He smiled, and you watched as he used his tongue to wipe the corners of his mouth, but took a random towel hanging off the door to wipe the rest off his cheek.
“Damn, Suguru’s gonna be pissed when he sees how soaked his sheets are.” Satoru laughed as he looked at you still with your legs spread out, trying to recover.
No can do, the towel that was previously used by Satoru was passed to you after.
The wet circle underneath you had expanded from soaking into the sheets for too long. Satoru grabs your shorts that landed just in front of the door and tossed them back to you, but as he walked away a knock could be heard.
It was Suguru, of course it was. “Yo, whoever’s in there is cheeky enough to lock my own damn door!”
You quickly slid on your shorts as you turned to the body mirror beside you, combing your hair with your fingers.
Honestly, you were a bit upset that your fun was cut short. But you couldn’t stay for too long or eventually someone would break the door down.
“Man shut the hell up, it’s me, Satoru. I’m in here.” He responded. You watched him in the mirror as he slowly came up behind you, turning you around and gave you a sweet peck on the lips. Making sure you knew he didn’t just want to leave you hanging like that. That you weren’t just a toy to him.
The two of you walked to the door, twisting the lock to it. “Here, you go out first. I’m right behind you.”
You nod as you left the room, and shyly smiled at Suguru on your way out who was dumbfounded, followed by Satoru behind you.
And of course, Suguru couldn’t help but notice your pink thong that was still hanging off Satoru’s back pocket.
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⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ © luvwestwood ‘24. all works are owned by me, and originally come from my own head. please do not re-post on a third party platform without my permission!
⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ as always, thank you for the love on each and every one of my posts. 🎀🩷
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ghouljams · 3 months
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I can just imagine the first time König meets his darling goes a little like; he steps on one of her flowers and out of nowhere this woman appears and starts giving him the dressing down of his life for being "such a clumsy, unobservant oaf," but the whole time he's just starting at her with heart eyes.
She could also keep the name Bee, because she's buzzing about the flowers all day. Though, perhaps she's a bit more like a hornet with that fiery personality she has.
Yeah that's pretty much how it happens.
König has never cared much for plants, he walks through the garden with advisors in tow, grumbling and growling until he finally rounds on them to leave him the hell alone for two goddamn minutes. Christ he didn't become king so he could deal with all this mundanity, he became king because his father was weak and the kingdom was going to shit. Corruption was a hydra, each head he chopped off just sprouted three more. He needed people he could trust, not power hungry nobles that only sought to elevate their own status by joining his cabinet. He may have to look outside the kingdom for that.
König stops at the edge of a wide flower bed, well tended, but in his way. The garden is full of winding paths, ones meant to draw people in to the scenery and inspire admiration in whatever flora is blooming. As previously stated, König has never cared much for plants. He steps off the path and into the bed, not so carefully trampling over the blooms and delicate stems that live there. He's king, these are his gardens, he can destroy what he wishes. Actually it's sort of nice to destroy something after a long day of signing laws and reviewing tax nonsense. He steps more purposefully onto a rose bush, eyes wide and pleased at the way the thorns drag against his clothes and attempt to prick him. Good, he hopes they draw a little blood for the trouble it's causing to walk through them. He even hears them yelp.
Oh no, that was a human. He stops grinding his boot into the woody stems and glances back at you. You look horrified. You look mad. Oh you look mad. He feels the emotion sink down his spin like warm honey, your eyes are furious as you pick your way through the trampled flowers. Actually you stop and gasp in horror at one of the bushes he'd destroyed crouching to fret over the stems and cup the delicate petals. König takes that as his sign to continue his walk. He doesn't expect you to stand in front of him or push your hands against his chest to yell at him.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" You ask him, fury edging your voice, his eyes dart between yours enjoying the fire in them, "Do you have any idea the work I've had to put in to make the hydrangeas that color? The soil has to be exactly right or they won't be red enough and look at what you're doing to my roses!" You push at him again, he tips his head to properly stare down at you.
"Move." He commands, and you push him again. Something shakes in his eyes, makes the world feel like it's trembling on the edge of insanity.
"You are supposed to stay on the path," You insist, "You move!"
"I am your king," König threatens, "Move or I will move you."
It hardly seems to make you do more than glare. He'd think you were stupid if he hadn't decided you were crazy. You point at the path he's made for himself. "This is my garden, and my flowers, and you-" You jab a finger against his chest, "-are going to apologize for ruining it."
König grabs your wrist and drags you, kicking, the rest of the way across the flower bed. You do your best, but he's sure to make you trample some of your precious flowers same as him. He tosses you onto the path and, though you stumble, you manage to keep yourself upright, glaring as he steps over the stone edging and back onto the path. You clench your hands into fists, and he hopes maybe you'll cry. He likes when that happens, it's fun seeing the waterworks. Instead you slap him, and all his anger and annoyance fall into the pit of his stomach as the chainmail mask stings both his cheek and your hand.
You seem to realize you've just struck the king almost as quickly as König realizes it. Though your reaction and his are miles apart. You freeze and he, decidedly doesn't. König grabs your arms and squeezes you, leaning in close to look you in the eye. You can smell the metal of his mask, see the almost reddish color of his irises. The mad dog that killed his father rather than wait for a throne that was already his. He's going to kill me, you think to yourself, watching the heave of his shoulders as he breathes.
"Do it again," He squeezes you tighter and your fear flips to confusion, "mein Herz, mein liebe, do it again Liebling."
Who are you to deny an order from your king?
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ma1dita · 3 months
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Duddee, now you gotta write luke proposing to trouble, you simply cannot now IBHBHKK
the perfect weekend
a ‘partners in crime’ alternate universe installment - luke castellan x dionysus!reader
alternate universe masterpost
words: 1.2k (this was too cute the word count escaped me)
summary: alternate universe - the perfect weekend with your perfect boy, even if he thinks otherwise
a/n: happy luke happy luke happy luke FIANCE LUKE 
(posted 2/4/23 unbetad and written on caffeine)
This weekend felt like a dream.
Luke took you to your favorite spots that you’ve both carved memories out of in Westport, buying you and his mom gorgeous fresh flowers from the farmers’ market, and he let you drag him around his hometown, spending hours in tiny antique shops and the record store on Main Street. He couldn’t get over how you always found fun in the simple things— even going to the pharmacy to pick up his mom’s medication felt like going to Disney World with you. He couldn’t be more sure of his decision, it was almost inconceivable to spend another day without you being his fiancee.
But luck wasn’t known to be on his side, after all (yeah, thanks dad). Luke’s always had to work harder to get what he wants, and he’s spent the past few years trying to prove himself to your dad—though deep down, he thinks Mr. D doesn’t mind him as much as he makes it seem. (Asking him for his blessing last week over a bottle of wine and a bone-shaking hug scared the wits out of him. He pretended to not notice the god cry.)
Luke just wants to give you what you deserve. And if he needs to spend the rest of his life working on it to prove it, he ought to do it with you by his side.
But he couldn’t think of how.
He tried proposing over dinner last night, with the smell of burnt cookies in the air, but that wasn’t romantic at all, and his hands were shaking so hard he knocked a glass over, prompting you and his mom to fuss over the mess and giggle over his silliness. You both chatted deep into the night, Luke sitting quietly and nodding at two of his favorite women babbling about who knows what (Sometimes he’s still convinced you like his mom more than him, but the way you both take care of him makes him tear up if he thinks too hard about it).
When you went horseriding this afternoon, he set up a picnic for lunch, which was romantic. Chocolate-covered strawberries and sandwiches made by mom, sparkling cider twinkling in the sun. Luke was sure it was going to be great timing— until he realized the ring box fell out of his pocket again, and he slipped in manure trying to rush you back to the house (The sound of your laughter at clumsiness made his heart warm though, and it almost made up for the three hours he looked for the stupid box in the grass that night when you fell asleep with his tiny Star Wars-themed flashlight).
He woke you up early before the sun rose, carrying you out to the car still bundled up in his old Toy Story throw blanket that you wouldn’t let him toss out when he brought it to college (The faded pictures of Buzz and Woody kept a smile on your face, and the memories it brought make you feel connected to 9-year-old Luke). The drive to the beach was short, a sleepy smile on your face as you felt Luke grab onto your hand, sand getting between your toes before he laid out a blanket and the both of you sat down.
Cracking open a redbull for the both of you to sip on, you leaned against his muscled frame, legs hanging over his lap as he wiped the sand off your feet, holding you close as he smiled.
“Good morning, handsome,” you grinned, leaning up for a kiss. Luke obliged, savoring the taste of you mixed with sleep and artificial peach. Your noses nudge against each other before he mumbles a reply, “Good morning, pretty girl.”
“Y’know? I could die happy just like this. I can’t think of anything else that would make this weekend more perfect.”
Luke hummed in contemplation, “I could think of a few things,” he said, as a laugh bubbled from his lips. A noise of confusion rose from you as you reached up to dust lint off his shirt before your knee nudged something hard in his pocket, and your eyebrow raised in mischief.
“Dirty boy, you get me out of your mom’s house and you’re already excited?”
And he laughed the stress off until it freed itself from his bones, pure elation radiating off of him before Eos even had a chance to spread her first rays of light into the sky. 
He’s never needed perfect.
He just needs you.
His hands dug into his pocket, pulling out the ring box that’s caused him so much trouble this weekend. But a life with you should’ve already prepared him for that—and the shock on your face became funnier when you launched yourself on top of him, kicking up sand and taking the air out of his lungs.
You both hit the ground with a loud thud, your nose buried in his chest as he chuckles at your scream. Why was he even worried to begin with? 
“Wait, wait, I still have something to say trouble, don’t jump ahead of the script!”
His hand rubbed your back in gentle strokes as he popped the box open to reveal a delicate golden band with two diamonds juxtaposed against each other sitting pretty on top.
“It’s always been you and me. And I’ve spent hours thinking of what to say, days trying to figure out when the time would be right, months working for a pretty ring that’s perfect for you, years loving you… and well… I want more. I want this, you and me spending the rest of our lives together because I can’t comprehend a future without you. I’d do anything for you trouble, and I don’t believe in much, but I believe in you. Us.”
You’ve cried so hard by this point that you’re convinced it’s so goddamn ugly but Luke smiles at you like he’s been promised immortality. And perhaps he has, with the future you two will have scrolling through his mind like an old film, a house on a hill, kids, a dog, shit—whatever you want as long as he’s with you it’ll be the closest thing to forever he’d have.
“Are you sure?” you said sniffling, and your boyfriend wiped your tears away like he has countless times before, though happy tears are something he’ll have to get used to.
“I literally ruined your proposal, I just thought you were horny, oh my gods…” Whining loudly and laughing, you held your shaking hand out as he sat up to put the ring on your finger.
“Well, we can fix that later. I still have a question to ask, after all.”
Luke grinned when your head nodded rapidly, finally shutting up so you wouldn’t interrupt him again.
“Will you,” he says so surely now, saying your name before continuing, “let me have the honor of spending the rest of our lives together as your husband?”
“Gods, yes. Fucking hell angelface, did you really think I’d say no?”
The both of you laughed through tears and snot as he placed the ring on your left hand, and still, it couldn’t be more perfect.
“A life with trouble is the life for me,” he mused, laughing as you covered his face in kisses before the both of you fell back into the sand a tangle of lips and lust and love.
You jolted up from your fiance’s embrace just as he thought he was going to get lucky, almost emptying your entire wallet of drachmas into the sand-covered blanket to Iris message your friends.
---
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(pics are not representative of reader's appearance or gender just a lil visual for funsies)
ask to be added to general/luke taglists!
luke taglist (struck out won't let me tag, turn on my post notifs?): @kissingyourgrl @dorcas4meadowes @lorarri @andrewgarfldsgf @noodlesketchbook @10ava01 @poppysrin @ashisabitgay @timhalamet @liv1104 @leeknows-wife @mxtokko @bugcuti3 @luvvfromme @midmourn @2hiigh2cry @yuminako @niktwazny303 @lukecastellandefender @intergalactic-padawan @iliketopgun @annybah @dangelnleif @thegrinningghost @alyssajunelle @obxstiles @m00ng4z3r @visndcaitswhore @b0ok-lover @elegant-face-tree @this-barbie-is-having-breakdowns @amortencjja @idonevenknow1359 @maliaaaa @targaryenluvs @sakyira @dhdjdjjdhsjdiri @number-onekidqueen @nininehaaa @bradynoonswife @stevenknightmarc @hoodedhavok @happy-mushrooms @homebyeleven @anotherblackreader @too-deviant @liviessun
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daisyblog · 6 days
Text
New Friend
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Unexpected Love Masterlist Summary: Harry meets Jacob.
YN could feel the nerves start to creep in as the time for Harry to arrive approached. Deep down she knew she had nothing to worry about, but that niggling thought at the back of her mind pushed forward reminding her that if Jacob didn’t like Harry or if things didn’t go to plan then she would have to end their relationship.
Jacob had been excited all morning, wanting to know when Harry would be arriving and if they could bake something for him. They had spent a couple of hours baking brownies, Jacob insisting that Harry would love them “because everyone loves brownies”.
After spending the morning tidying and baking, Jacob suggested going to the shop to get some snacks for their movie night. As they walked around the store, YN couldn’t help but laugh at how Jacob continue to pick up different types of treats and saying “Just incase Harry likes these”.
As YN watches Jacob playing with his Lego in the lounge area, she thinks back to a few days ago when she sat down with him and asked if he’d like to meet Harry.
---
YN had already asked Jack if he was happy for Jacob to meet Harry, he screamed with excitement knowing YN would never introduce someone into Jacob’s life unless she was serious about them.
Jacob was cuddled up to her on the sofa, they were watching Toy Story, one of his favourites. “Hey Jakey…can I ask you something?”. YN ran her fingers through his hair, knowing it was something that helped him relax.
“Yeah”. His eyes didn’t leave the screen as they focused on Woody and Buzz.
“Uh…Mummy has a new friend-“. YN began, trying to explain in simple way.
“A new friend?”. Jacob’s voice was curious but his eyes only left the screen for a few seconds.
YN nodded. “Yeah…and I like my new friend a lot…and I was wondering if you would like to meet him?”.
Jacob was still distracted by the scene on the tv. “Yeah…will he be my friend too?”.
“Well not straight away but once you get to know him I’m sure he’ll be your friend too”. YN smiled at how innocent he was despite his mature social skills.
“What’s his name?”. Jacob continued to ask questions.
“Harry”. YN felt herself smile as she said his name. “Is there anything else you want to ask Mummy about him?”.
Jacob sat in thought as he tried to think of another question, but he quickly shook his head and continued watching the film.
---
Jacob was watching Manchester United play as YN began clock watching knowing that Harry would be arriving any minute. She got lost in the excitement of Jacob cheering on his favourite team, when the doorbell rang.
YN quietly walked to answer the door, knowing Harry was the one standing behind it. “Hi”. She smiled widely as she stepped aside for Harry to walk in.
“Hi…you look beautiful”. Harry complimented YN with a quick peck on the lips, whilst they were alone.
The blush crept onto her cheeks. “Aw tha-“.
“YEEEEESSSSSS!”. Jacob’s voice shouted from the next room, causing Harry to have an amused grin and YN to laugh knowing someone must have scored.
“Sorry!”. YN let out a laugh. “Jacob is watching football and I’m guessing someone’s scored”.
Harry held his hands up in defence. “Hey…that’s a boy after my own heart”.
“He’s a Manchester United fan”. YN explained knowing how much Jacob loved football.
Harry smirked as they both still stood in the hallway. “What a coincidence, so am I”.
Harry followed YN through to the lounge and he could see Jacob sat on the edge of the sofa, his eyes focused intensely on the game. “Hey Jakey”. YN tried to get his attention.
“Mummy they scored!”. Jacob announced as he heard his mother enter the room. Excitement clear in his voice.
“Wow that’s amazing!”. YN shared the excitement despite not knowing much about football. “I said you were their lucky charm”. Jacob gave YN a toothy grin.
“I think we going to win”. Jacob looked behind YN to where Harry was standing. He looked to YN with a shy smile.
“Jacob, this is Harry”. YN explained to the little boy before she continued. “Do you want to say hello?”.
“Hello”. His voice was quiet as he looked at Harry with a shy expression.
“Hi Jacob…thank you for letting me join you and Mummy for some dinner”. Harry knew this was a huge deal for him but an even bigger one for Jacob.
“Guess what Jakey”. YN knew she had his attention from the way his eyes lit up when he heard the word guess. “Harry loves Manchester United too!”.
Jacob’s little eyes widened as far as they could. “Really?”. He couldn’t believe it, when Harry nodded with a big smile. “My Daddy says they’re the best team”.
“Your Daddy is right…they are the best team!”. Harry agreed.
“Mummy? Can Harry watch football with me?”. Jacob asked, his eyes large as they pleaded.
YN smiled. “Yeah of course he can”. Harry gave YN a smile of relief as he took a seat next to Jacob. She couldn’t help but look on at the scene of them both at the edge of their seats as they waited for a score, or how they spoke about different players.
---
Harry had insisted on buying them all pizza in the evening and as they all sat around the dinning table, Jacob had began asking Harry questions.
“Harry? How old are you?”. Jacob took a bite of his pizza.
“Twenty five”. Harry answered another question, as he picked up another slice of pizza.
“My Mummy is twenty five…but I’m five”.
“What’s your favourite colour?”. Harry joined in on the questions. YN smiled over to him from where she was sat next to Jacob.
“Blue!”. Jacob answered quickly. “My Mummy likes pink…my Daddy likes green…Zara likes red and…Theo likes….Mummy what colour is Theo’s favourite?”. Jacob info dumped as he tried to recall everyone’s favourite colours.
“I’m not sure sweetheart…I don’t think he has one yet”. YN answered. “He’s still little isn’t he?”.
“Theo’s my baby brother”. Jacob turned to look back at Harry.
Harry pretended this was new information to him. “Waw…you’re so lucky having a baby brother”.
“Have you got a brother?”. The questions kept coming. YN laughed at how inquisitive her son was.
YN interrupted. “Sorry…Jacob is a social butterfly after a while…aren’t you Buddy?”.
“I’m used to questions….but these are definitely my favourite ones”. Harry waved off YN’s apology. “I don’t have a brother but I have an older sister…her names Gemma”.
“Mummy has a sister and a brother”. Jacob revealed a new piece of information to Harry. He noticed YN smile down at Jacob, but he could see it wasn’t her natural one. It was more forced and like she was putting on a show. “But they make Mummy sad”.
“Okay sweetheart…why don’t you go and choose some snacks and we can watch a movie”. Whilst Jacob was oblivious to YN changing the subject, Harry wasn’t but decided staying quiet was for the best right now.
---
Jacob had chosen for them to watch Cars and insisted to sit next to Harry, so he could share his snacks with him.
“Harry look how fast they go!”. Jacob’s voice was excited as the screen showed all the cars racing around the track. “Watch….vrooooom!”.
“They are super fast!”. Harry agreed as he watched the scene in front of him. “Who do you thinks going to win?”.
Jacob was fascinated by the cars fighting for first place. “Uh…I think Lightning McQueen!”.
“Oh here they go…they’re starting to go faster!”. Harry encouraged Jacob’s excitement. “He’s nearly there….is he going to do it?”.
“HE DID IT!”. Jacob shouted and turned to Harry who was signalling him for a high five.
About half way through the film, Harry felt a heavy movement on his arm and as he glanced he noticed Jacob resting against it with his eyes closed. “All this excitement has worn him out”.
“He’s been so excited all day to meet you.” YN explained as she looked down at the sleeping boy, who had made himself comfy against Harry. “He really likes you already…when you went to the bathroom earlier…he whispered to me asking if he could have hair like yours”.
“He’s adorable…today’s been one of my favourite days”. YN felt her heart swell with warmth at Harry’s words. “And I’m hoping there’s many more to come”.
“We’d like that!”. YN gestured towards Jacob, who was still sleeping soundly. “You’ve definitely made a new friend today!”.
Taglist:
@ell0ra-br3kk3r @vikiii07-blog @sleutherclaw
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cameronspecial · 6 months
Note
I know we’re pass Halloween but I’ve had an idea.
Drew smut (only if your comfortable) where he and reader as a cute matching costume like Flynn and Rapunzel or daphne and Fred from scooby doo and they go to a party with all the cast members and he just can’t keep his hands to himself.
So when they finally get home they get freaky lol on the island in the kitchen and he lifts up her dress/skirt cause he can’t wait anymore and it’s so hot but cute.
Drewbie Doo, Where Are You?
Pairing: Drew Starkey x Reader
Warnings: DARK SMUT and Swearing.
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 1.6K
Masterlist
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Y/N loves costume parties and dressing up for them. She always goes all out for them, coming up with creative spins on classic costumes. Like right now, Y/N and Drew are dressed up as Daphne and Fred, but with the twist that they are both serial killers. The idea came to her mind as she was looking through different costume inspirations and she saw a couple dressed as Ghostface and one of his victims. The girl’s white dress is stained red with the red handprint of her boyfriend and the idea stuck to Y/N. She knew Drew wanted to dress as Daphne and Fred, so she decided they could combine their two wants. This is how she finds herself giggling while Drew covers his hand in the fake blood she bought from the costume store. His hand rounds her body and brings it down to her bum. He gives her ass cheek a squeeze, causing her to let out a yip in surprise. He smirks down at her and brings his bloody hand to her cheek to smear some red on it. His hand brings her lips to his. They pull apart from each other and look at themselves in the mirror. 
The red of his handprint stands out against her purple long-sleeved dress, which she admires with a little wiggle of her butt. He lets out a chuckle at her action, giving her a small spank. She jumps forward a little bit and giggles, “Come on, we are going to be late for the party.” “Darling, I don’t know if we are going to make it to Madeline’s party with how your ass is brandishing my handprint on it. It shows everyone that you are mine,” he growls, pulling her in by the green scarf around her neck. She steps out of his reach and picks up her fake knife, “As much as I would love to stay home and let you fuck me. Madeline will kill us if we skip out on her party.” 
——
Everyone’s costumes looked stunning. Madison is wearing a fairy costume and Madeline appears to be dressed for the 1950s. Rudy seems to be the back half of a cow and Y/N can only guess that Elaine is the front half. Chase is dressed as Woody while JD is Buzz Lightyear. She spots Carlacia dressed as Barbie, talking to someone Y/N doesn’t recognize. Seeing other people’s costumes is one of Y/N’s favourite things about dress-up events. Squeals pull Y/N out of her observations and she turns her head to see Madeline running towards them. “You guys look so good, but you are late,” she scolds, twirling Y/N around to admire the costume. “You naughty girl. Is that Drew’s handprint?” Y/N’s head bows down and Drew brings her to his side by her waist. “Damn, right, it’s my handprint. Who else do you think it is?” he grumbles, resting his hand back down to her bum where the print is. 
“God, you are so possessive of her. Now, I know why you guys were late. You guys were probably having sex,” Madeline comments. “She wouldn’t let me,” he whispers under his breath as Madeline goes off to greet more guests. Y/N swats Drew’s chest, “Really? Did you have to say that?” 
——
Drew couldn’t keep his hands off of Y/N throughout the night. As she talks to the various castmates, Drew’s hands roam around her body, leaving a trail of fake blood all over her purple dress. He begs her to go home, whispering in her ear all the naughty things he wants to do with her. The final straw that breaks the camel's back is when she is standing in the kitchen and she is pouring herself a drink. Drew comes up from behind her, the strain of his dick pressing perfectly into the dip of her buttcrack. “Feel what you do to me, Darling? I could be making you feel so good right now,” he mutters into her ear. His hand moves up to her breast, staining the fabric of her dress as he cups it. She takes his wrist into hers and drags him out of Madeline’s house. 
——
They close the door in a frenzied kiss. It only gets locked when Drew begrudgingly pulls away from her. She is about to make her way to their bedroom, but he stops her by grabbing her wrist and bringing her to his chest. She lets him waddle them to the kitchen, where he pushes her hips into the counter. One of his hands keeps her pushed into the surface and his other goes to pull off the ascot from his neck. He takes both of her wrists in one hand, tying them together with his orange scarf. He shoves her back down onto the counter, so her elbows meet the cold granite and her wrists are in front of her. Drew's mouth meets the shell of her ear, “See if you had let us leave earlier in the night,  then you would have gotten sweet and passionate Drew. The Drew that lets you cum. But since you didn’t, you are going to take what I give you like the good little slut you are.”
She has to stop herself from moaning out at his words and the way his front is pressing up against her back. She knows her noise will only darken his mood if she lets them out without his permission. He knows she secretly loves it when he gets this way. Foreplay is not an option as he just needs to feel her walls close in around his dick. He unbuttons his pants and tugs his pants down just enough so he can pull himself out of his briefs. He doesn’t even wait to take her clothes off. He lifts the bottom of her dress just enough so that he can rip her thong off of her. She lets out a quiet gasp at the feeling of her underwear being torn off. 
He shushes her, kissing the back of her neck which is exposed by her hair falling to one shoulder. His tip finds her pussy and he gives her no time to process it before he slams into her. She can’t adjust to his size because he begins his harsh thrusts at an unforgiving pace. Luckily, she is already wet enough from their party antics to lessen the friction. She tries her best to keep quiet as he brings his dick in and out of her. “Go on, Darling. Let me hear how good I’m making you feel,” Drew orders, pulling at the scarf around her neck so that her back presses against his chest. She obeys his command, crying out about how much she loves his cock. His pace keeps going and she feels like he is trying to fuck her into the kitchen island. His lips find their way to her neck. He nibbles a hickey on her skin, loving the melody coming out of her mouth. He can feel her tightened walls around him. He lets out a low laugh, “Tell me you're sorry for not letting us stay home. Tell me we should’ve stayed home and let me fuck you like a good girl. And then maybe I’ll let you cum.” 
His hips have stopped moving and he is still inside of her while he waits for her pleas. She tries to bring his hand up to her throat, but she forgets her hands are tied. He smirks down at her attempts and brings his big hands around her throat, squeezing gently around it. Knowing he will love to hear her breathy voice, she calls out, “I’m sorry for being a whore and not letting us stay home because I wanted everyone to see me in my slutty costume. I’m sorry you didn’t let you have sex with me sooner.” 
His dick twitches inside of her at her words and he knows he doesn’t have long to make her climax before him. His forceful thrust picks up again and the hand around her neck goes to her clit. He starts rubbing her bud in quick circles. Her moans and his groans mix with the slapping of their skin and they are slowly being brought to the edge. Her bound hands reach above her to the other side of the island, so she has something to grip as her pussy swallows Drew in a tighter hold. She orgasms with a scream of his name and he follows soon after her. His cum shoots into her in ropes as he fucks her through their high. He collapses onto her, smushing her breasts against the granite. His head falls to wear he bites a hickey into her skin and kisses up and down her neck. His hands reach up to untie his orange scarf from her wrist. She brings her wrist over her shoulder so he can kiss the forming bruises. He slowly slips his flaccid penis out of her, bringing her up to stand straight. She turns around in his arms and rests her head on his chest. The thump of his heartbeat starts to slow down. 
His lips find her temple, “I hope I wasn’t too hard on you, Darling. I know you didn’t use our safeword, but I didn’t even eat you out first.” She shakes her head against him and kisses the exposed part of his chest. “No, Baby. It was perfect. Like you,” she mumbles, still a little groggy from her release. His fingers run through her hair, “Good. I love you, Darling.”
“I love you too, Baby.”
Taglist: @loves0phelia
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johnnys-breastmilk · 4 months
Note
Wally anon new request 4: Bottom!teacher!reader x Top!Wally where the reader happens to walk in on Wally cranking one out very. loudly in the school's most isolated bathroom & has an inner debate about saying something. They proceed to accidentally make noise, prompting Wally out of the stall (his pants poorly concealing his erection) & trying to turn on his charm before taking the opportunity he has to dominate the reader (& he gets very. sloppy with it) cause he notices how distracted they are from the entire situation.
A.D.I.D.A.S. | alive!wally clark x teacher!male!reader
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a/n — yes, the title is a Korn song. sue me (please don't) fun fact: grammarly said this had 150 "premium errors"🤓☝️nerds. if i say it's late at night will that make me exempt from blame for the probable grammatical errors
summary — check the ask! basically the same build-up to the smut
warnings — smut (sooo 18+), teacher/student pairing, facefucking (Wally receiving), rimming (Wally receiving), anal sex
words — 4.7k
~~~
Only people who had nothing better to do skipped class, so that’s why Wally skipped lunch instead. At a time when he would be scarfing down the scarce protein found on the high school lunch menu and rushing to finish whatever homework he forgot to do the night before, he chose to negate all of his troubles for something more enticing. Smudges of graphite were smeared on the back of his left hand from writing an essay for your class all night and left his hand feeling sore, his head feeling too occupied to conjure up a fantasy before hauling into overdrive to stage each production required for his dreams. The underside of his hand complimented the rest as he stroked his dick, the bristling bundle of his dark pubes sprawling out over the undone flaps of his jeans pressed against his hand every time he reached the base and traveled back. It was done with the same fiery passion he had for you when you paired him with someone he openly disliked in class for a group project—for the times when you wouldn’t give him an extension because he had football or family matters. For the times when he thought that you were too stuck up and needed a hefty dose of dick to get the stick out of your ass. So now he was relieving himself in the men’s bathroom, it only seemed like a fair trade. If you got to fill his nights with readings, assignments, and studying for the next pop quiz, he got to let you take up the space in his head. He got to dampen the wad of toilet paper in his hand with the results of his endless thoughts about you.
The bathroom was expectantly dingy, painted in yellow from the incandescent bulbs buzzing out waves of it. Wally’s vibe proved to be combatant to the do-what-you-need-to-and-leave-as-fast-as-you-can mentality that this restroom evoked. It was the last one on the list for Split River’s renovations, and therefore the place that people went to the least. Cascades of shadows form a sloped line against the wall of the stall like the setting sun unevenly tilting through a set of blinds, the wall climbing higher than the black hair on Wally’s head as he leaned back against it.
He could still smell the pencil shavings on his hand, the woody scent hiding under his fingernails as he brought a hand up to his mouth, stifling a moan from releasing. He needed to tear his gaze away from his dick, his hand acting as a surrogate for either of your holes. Wally had worked himself up to the point that picturing your lecturing lips stretched wide around his dick or your hole taking all of his abuse. He became uncontrollable, ready to finish this as fast as possible. Like he was running a race on foot, only a few more steps until he was past the white and blue finish line. His feet shifted and his sneakers squeaked on the glossy finish of the floor. Another moan escaped his lips, going far beyond the white cement bricks of the bathroom and out into the hall, where you were passing by.
Hall sweeps were a common thing at Split River, and you were stuck with the west end of the building. It was already on the opposite side of the school from where your designated classroom was. You barely knew this side of the school, so you had no clue who’s classroom was supposed to be occupied and who’s wasn’t. Some people liked to duck into classes to hide from teachers, making noise that you had to assume was acceptable and just part of some class you weren’t familiar with. Thankfully, it seemed that everyone in the hall was at lunch, none of the classes offered were in session for the time being. There was no one to report on the walkie-talkie attached to your hip. At least you got to learn of bathroom locations, also known as the main hub for in-school skipping. The faculty bathroom was a few doors down and on the opposite side of the hall from the student bathrooms, the men and women’s entrances being separated by a thick brick wall but still in proximity to each other. But as you walked by them, taking your mental notes of where everything was in this corridor and which teachers resided in it, you heard a guttural moan. It was quick and quiet like a kid saying a swear word before cutting themselves off in fear of being heard, but you heard it. The moan had a tremble to it, a shakiness that sounded like desperation. You knew it was deep enough to come from the men’s bathroom, but you really didn’t want to confront a student for doing something of the sort. But it would be more awkward to let them finish and walk out, only to reveal yourself as having known about it for however long it would take them to walk out.
You had to go in, and you kept your steps light. Maybe you were wrong—you wanted to be wrong. Your eyes flew to the sinks on the left, then the urinals on the right. Nothing, no one was here and maybe you had just heard something. But then, you looked at the two stalls in the back with a sliver of space on the one side to swing open both doors and enter them. It was the space underneath showing their white and orange Nike’s that gave them away, making it clear that they had no intention of using the toilet for its intended purpose. They were backed away to the wall of the stall, and you knew that you had to beckon them out. You held your breath, thinking about what to say and if you even wanted to say anything. Would it just be better to turn around and leave? They weren’t hurting anyone but… 
Before the debate could come to a conclusion in your head, your walkie-talkie rung out, filling the bathroom with an echo of the grainy voice of another teacher. This bathroom must have been far off from the rest of the school, now that you thought about it. The kid in the stall probably wasn’t even skipping lunch, he was probably skipping a class on the other side of the school. Multiple periods for lunch overlayed with other classes to fit the entire student body into one cafeteria, you had to remind yourself, so it wasn’t a far cry from being reasonable. 
Something else that was expected was the teen in the stall finally accepting that he was caught hopefully clean-handed. You could hear fabric shifting and a soft plink ring out from something being thrown in the toilet. He flushed it and then there was the sound of a zipper being pulled back into itself. The lock on the stall was the next noise, the door swinging open after a beat. Out came Wally, a student in one of your later classes of the day after every lunch period is said and done. You considered him to be a decent student, most of his papers and in-class work earning him low B’s and high C’s. Maybe you were a harsh grader, but you really didn’t have a grasp on it yet due to this being your first year of teaching. Regardless, you didn’t expect him to be the one to walk out. You only had as much knowledge of him as he was willing to give you through fifty-four-minute classes, five days a week, for the past fifty-or-so days, but he would never do something like this. He would never be stupid enough to walk out with his boner so prominently forming a line in his jeans, either. But he kept walking towards you without letting it hinder his movement, the same swagger present in his step that he had walking into your class.
“Mr. Clark,” you sighed, taking the responsibility as it was your job to confront him. You tried to stay combobulated as he went for the sink, turning to the side to show the real size of his tent that the front couldn’t show. Crossing your arms, the pressure put on your chest exhumed the words stuck in your throat, “Shouldn’t you be in class?”
He didn’t look like he was worried about being caught, in fact, he was ready to lie his ass off. The faucet handle squeaked when he turned it off with one of his wet hands. He didn’t bother going for the paper towel dispenser less than a step away, instead, he turned to you and made the intentional choice to rub his palms over his denim to dry them. It was only for a moment, but he made sure to let his hands ghost his crotch in their proximity.
“I was just finishing up,” he decided to say, a slight shudder slipping out at the obvious satisfaction he got from his hand going over his covered shaft. Keeping it simple was the easiest way to skate by you, if you were willing to let him. Wally went to go around you, but your hand found his chest and stopped him in his tracks. His Nike’s scuffed the floor and let out a high-pitched squeak when he stopped, the dissonant symphony continuing as you used a little force to guide him back into the middle of the bathroom. He may have been on the football team, but he was in no position to fight you, not when you were closer than you had ever been to him. 
“Finishing up what? Come on, be honest and it’ll be easier for you,” you had to quote some late-night cop show for the coercive words you angled at him. You never had to do something like this—maybe you should have taken him in silence to the office. But even the quiet drawls of each breath reminded you of his visible frustration during the tests he took in your class, the consequences of his emotion you wanted to be the victim of. He had the right tools to jackhammer away at your stone-cold treatment of him, but that was mostly to act professional. You could never make it to the office.
“I think you know what it is. I don’t have to tell you.” He laughed. He leaned in closer, pushing against your hand that still hadn’t left his chest. The fabric of his plain white t-shirt underneath his staple letterman was thin and flimsy and let you feel the light definition of muscle underneath. He wasn’t a beast but he was still young, still had time to bulk up. At this moment, though, it was everything you needed it to be, “What are you gonna write me up for, Teach?”
You looked into his soft eyes, “Nothing. Just… get back to class.”
“No way, you’re staying to learn with me,” he was the one to pull away from you even if he was leaning into this absurd turn of the conversation, doing a quick turn on his heel in disbelief and gratification. He refused to leave even though you stepped aside to let him pass. “I’ll give you something to write me up for and help out my favorite teacher. Get on your knees.”
“Mr. Clark,” you protested. Speaking his name so pure and so isolated would probably make you forget about your position and that he was your student. You could get fired for this, but Wally continued regardless. It’s not like this would make him look bad. If either of you were caught like this—which was slim to none given how out of the way this bathroom was, but the mere sliver of a chance was enough to make you believe it was more than likely to happen—would boost his social credit and be spun into a sob story for him, making you look like the monster in this situation. You had power, the power to stop this and send him walking to the office and having him return to class with a lifetime’s worth of detention, but you could be Wally’s little mistake for the next twenty minutes.
“No talking while class is in session. Don’t you usually say that? It sounds so fucking stupid,” he laughed again. Wally pushed the sides of his letterman jacket behind him to open the gate for easy access to his jeans. The dark jeans had a golden button that he fooled with for a second before undoing it, and then the matching brass zipper followed in his haste. His hands were a little shaky as he did it like he needed release from working himself up beforehand. He parted the flaps of his jeans to show off a pair of solid white tights encasing his massive erection. It filled the front of his briefs to the point that it looked like it would flop out any second, and he had a dark shrub of curly pubes peeking over the waistband. There was precum leaking from the tip that caused the white fabric to become see-through and cling to the tip of his dick. It confirmed your long-forgotten suspicion that he was in the stall, masturbating. “I don’t listen to what you have to say because I want that mouth to be used for something else…”
If you hadn’t fallen to your knees by this point, the sight alone would have made you too weak to stand. You were eye-level with the tent he formed and it protruded much more than when it was hidden in the dark behind his jeans. His relaxed and casual clothing contrasted the more formal ones you had to wear, the cotton dress pants doing little against the hard linoleum. You could feel bruises already setting into your knees before the fun had even started, wondering if the purple would leak through the fabric of your pants like his precum.
“For our first lesson—we’ll be going over how to handle a big piece of meat.” His thumbs hooked into the elastic of his underwear, stretching out as he half-circled around his thighs to push down his underwear. Somehow, his dick looked bigger now that its shape wasn’t hidden by his tent. His girth matched his length to create something of a beast, something they should confiscate from him for being too dangerous. No wonder he struggled to hide it when he came out of the stall, there was no possible way to not show it when he was fully hard.
His steps toward you were a lot smoother, and a lot more coordinated now that the stiffness in his pants was finally free. It swayed from side to side with each step, drawing your attention like a teacher rounding up the class. Your entire school of thought was out the window at the hypnotic sight, all streams of consciousness flowing towards the idea of him—it was all you could think about. When he neared you, the length of his dick was the same as the distance between you. He took it into his hand, pointing it up towards the ceiling and moving closer before letting it fall down on your face and bob around.
“I know you’re new to this whole thing.” He smacked his dick over your face by holding the base. He pulled his shaft up and carelessly let it fall against your face. “But you need to learn what runs things around here, Teach.”
It was rare that Wally found himself at a loss for words, always having a remark that needed to be said—most likely in your class—but here, he had nothing to say when his dick was on the tip of your lips. The heat was pouring in and melded with your equally warm mouth, adding a wetness that could have made Wally cum then and there. His cheeks filled with air and he expelled it with disbelief. He didn’t expect your mouth to feel so good, or for you to be so good at taking him. Never would he have guessed that a teacher could be such a slut. 
He guided you slowly down his length, not to let you learn its curves and ridges and to let your mouth get used to it, no, he had to take it slow or else he would burst. He had spent a good ten minutes tugging on his dick without lotion, just the dry touch of his hand and a little spit that took him a long way and now he wanted to enjoy the massive step-up from his hand and vivid imagination to the very real feelings and sight of you sucking his dick. 
“Fuck, yeah,” he moaned and bit his lip, watching you finally bury your nose in his pubes. Looking away when you looked up at him with eyes that eagerly waited for his command, his hand slid into your hair to grab a fistful of it. He kept you at the base of his dick, softly grinding himself against your face. He needed to bury himself deeper but he was as deep as he could go. 
There was a still moment where his shaky breaths matched your quick ones ruminating over his crotch, warmth that matched what he radiated out. He reeled himself back, you could hear the imaginary tick, tick, tick in your head as every inch escaped your mouth before sliding back in faster than the first time he did it. The way his hips slowly backed away from you felt like the fleeting hope when you reached the top of a roller coaster with a steep drop, and it was plunging right into the pit forming in your stomach. He did it until a rhythm of hip swings and moans swelled. The cherry on top was the way your mouth started to fill with spit and spill out as his cock forcefully brought it out with it, only to slam some of it back in and leave the rest spilling over your chin and the sides of your mouth. You couldn’t help but get hard at the treatment, at the way he stretched out your mouth alone.
Wally heard your belt’s buckle clink against itself as you fiddled with it, being thrashed around a little too much by his fast thrusts to properly undo your belt. He stopped you just as you pulled the end of the strap out, the leather stiff and still wrapped around your waist even without it looping through the hole in the belt to tuck itself away in.
“Don’t touch yourself, dude.” He said plainly, there wasn’t a hint of teasing behind it. It was a command. His hand lightly tapped the side of your face as a reminder. It wasn’t a full-on slap, but it felt like the precursor to someone readying their aim before really committing to it—a warning.  You felt just like him, your dick straining against the looser fabric of your pants. It must have been painful to be so worked up and have to tuck it away in such an awkward position, and now he was returning the favor by not letting you find relief.
At a certain point, when your jaw started to ache and you could tell that your lips were fed up with the abuse, he pulled himself out of your mouth with a snicker and an “Oh, fuck.” He didn’t do it for you, though, he did it because one more slip into your throat and he would have coated your throat in cum like a parent trying to force cough medicine down. He knew you would’ve sputtered and probably sent him to the office regardless of this extracurricular going so well, so he had to be careful even if he wanted to defile you. Maybe if you looked more like a mess than you already do, that option would be out of the window. Your hair was ruffled by his hands raking through it and there were stains on the sides of your face—what exactly was spit caught in the crossfire of Wally’s throatfucking and what were tears at the occasional gag was unknown. 
“Now, for the next lesson.” He continued to assume power over you, letting his sloppy cock hit you in the same way as before. It left a line of your own spit across your face as if he was obsessed with waving it in front of you. He stopped fulfilling his addiction to making you a mess quickly when he turned around while keeping you in the same position, introducing you to his ass that you would also have to get acquainted with.
His jacket covered some of his butt, but he pulled it up with one hand so you could see the full thing. The thick trim at the bottom was the school colors, rounding off the curve from his ass to the small of his back and reminding you that this was an ass you would still have to see in the halls, one that you couldn’t look away from. You’d have to pay more attention at the football games, because Wally was sure to drag you to them from now on, and this was more of a sight than his front side had been. He was rather modest in size and mostly hairless around the back, a light tracing of hair revealing itself when you used your hands to part his cheeks. They filled out your hands, his ass being firm yet squishy enough to almost seep through the space between your fingers. There was more than enough to play with, but you were interested in his untouched hole.
Just like yours, Wally never had anything inserted into his hole. That is, from what you could tell. You were too busy rimming him to ask and he was too busy enjoying the feeling to give you a proper answer that wasn’t a hastily blurted-out profanity or half-slurred plea to keep going. Your jaw couldn’t seem to get a break from his torment, having to subtly move every time your tongue extended to lick around his hole. The sounds of him welling up spit in his mouth to make his dick extra slick could be heard from the other side, though you couldn’t see it happening. 
You noticed that one specific movement—particularly where you flicked your tongue up, stretching Wally’s hole and continuing to lick all the way up to the divot where his tailbone was—sent shivers down his spine. His head tilted back and his raven black hair bunched up at the collar of his jacket from above. You tried a few other tactics like licking in the opposite direction until you reached his balls, using his taint as a bridge between his hole and sack to travel down with your tongue, and laying your tongue flat over his hole to stimulate the ring of nerves in one go.
When Wally deemed his dick to be lubed up to his liking—and totally not because he could have cum from your amazing work—he pulled you away from his ass.
“Come on, I know you’re not done after that,” Wally sneered, turning around to see you, a bit breathless with sweat forming on your forehead. Your formal clothes were really doing you no favors with how your dick was trapped and you had to keep all this heat in without taking anything off. “Time for lesson number three, buddy: don’t fucking interrupt the teacher.” 
He hooked an arm under your elbow and brought you to your feet. The sudden rush was enough to make your head spin, or maybe it was the way he turned you towards the sink and was quick to lift you up onto its surface. He positioned you between the two sinks, your thighs making contact with their white porcelain as the space was barely enough for you to fit without some overlap. Finally, he let you have some freedom of movement down there. He was the one to undo your belt and pull down your pants and underwear while doing all the work for you. He sat you up against the sink, the counter having more than enough room to let you sit—and lean back—on it so that your back was touching the mirror. 
Your ass was scooted forward, allowing him to do all the lining up that was required to easily slide himself in. Given that it was your first time, the pain was very real, and the solid countertop and mirror made your writhing when his tip pierced your ass feel restrictive. He treated it the same as your mouth, slowly sinking in like he was inching himself into a pool with frigid water, the shock making him lose all composure in the best ways possible. And when he was buried as deep as he could be, he stood there, one hand on your hip and the other against the mirror. His face was impossibly close to yours, his soft eyes darkening in the shadow of the yellow light above. It cast a dark shadow to make what would usually be unassuming eyes look dark with intention. 
But then, his lips pressed to your puffy ones. They stung at the contact but the pain detracted from his gradual movements. While it started slow, it quickly became a rough fucking that rocked you back into the mirror. Wally could only take so much build-up before he could no longer hold himself back. There was another motivation too—your teaching style. Some of his thrusts were intentionally rough, and most of his actions had derived from when you paired him up with someone he found annoying and you refused to let him swap partners. For all the homework he had to begrudgingly sit down and finish instead of jerking off or doing anything he actually liked. This was his own lesson for you, and you had to sit back and take it.
This is when you were at your most vocal. He managed to stretch you out just like the syllables coming from your mouth, half-formed and incoherent and held longer than they needed to be. But they strung themselves together on the thin lines of ecstasy. He was so painful in the way that he fucked you against the mirror like you were trapped between a rock and a hard corner. Short strands of his hair separated from the rest as he bowed his head, looking at his work from above and finding pleasure in how he jackhammered into you. It was enough for you to finally shoot your load and hands-free at that. It primarily shot up at your stomach, missing your formal top by a minuscule gap. 
Wally didn’t last long after seeing you lose your composure and you found it to be adorable. He seemed like he was going to keep going—he had fended himself off long enough from cumming, but he pulled out and side-stepped over to one of the sinks on your side. You watched his hand just barely reach his dick in time to aim it into the sink and spray his load out in strands all over the shiny white surface. He kept pumping, drops of white dribbling over his dick and into his hand with each tug.
The bell rang and that let Wally know that his lunch period was finally at an end. Forty minutes had never gone by so fast for him. He fixed himself back up and left you weak on the counter, presumably to clean up his mess that was left in the sink.
“Your homework is to clean that up for me. And make sure you look good for later today.” Wally smirked and patted your thigh, “See ya in class, Teach.”
His squeaky shoes stopped once he reached the hall and you heard the pitter of his steps fade away. And you were left in the bathroom with a voice fighting through the grain on your walkie, announcing that the lunch period had ended and you were needed to supervise the next group of students having their meals. At least you were more than satisfied with the five-course meal you just got handed and your hall-sweeping duties were over.
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summer-may · 6 months
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Lover boy Frank is something else.
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He is so protective and obsessed with you. It's sometimes borderline paranoia suffocating. You know he's working on it, he's talking to someone, you have no idea who that someone is, but you could see some changes so you let it be.
The constant need to check his phone when you're away; maybe you called, you messaged, or you're in danger, used to eat Frank alive. The Punsiher doesn't have many allies but enemies, and some powerful and nasty ones are abundant.
What if someone tried to do something to you? What if you were hurt and bleeding in some alley?
He would kill all of them, each and every one; guilty or innocent, it wouldn't matter at that point. If they dared to touch the one person who brings some form of light into his life, his peace, his everything.
The constant weight on his chest when you were away has been brought down to a phantom ache where there was a ton once. The need to check your location was reduced by a thousand. Now, only done when you were late, then the time decided.
Frank loves cooking for you. Especially when he feels that itch to do something. He loves the look on your face when you cross your threshold and smell the aroma of his food. The godlike moan you give makes him almost cream himself.
When both of you clean the dishes side by side, there is a quietness settling in his bones. The noise in his head fades to an inconsequential buzz.
The only thing that wraps around him like a weighted blanket bringing comfort to his weary bones is your smell; citrus, woody, and a little bit of him. Your voice telling him nothing and everything. The way you elbow him to emphasize a point of something so mundane and domestic, he feels it too good to be true.
Late at night when you both settle into your bed, lights off, windows open, light breeze fluttering the curtains. He puts his head on your shoulder, arms pulling you in, and tucks himself impossibly closer to you and feels himself sleep to a dreamless sleep with no weight on his heart.
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wordywarriorwrites · 2 months
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Life Is But A...
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Title: Life Is But A... | AO3 | Rating: T
Pairing: Frankie Morales x F! Reader
Summary: Frankie is ready to tell his daughter about you...
Warnings: Kissing. Mild-spicy thoughts. Mention of death and medical issues (not explicit).
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You’re flipping through the pages of a Little Mermaid coloring book – Cranberry Red crayon at the ready – when you feel a strong hand grip your calf.
“Got a minute?” Frankie’s deep voice rumbles through the air.  
You glance at his daughter and quirk a brow, “You’ll have to ask Her Royal Highness, Princess Isabella. We are very busy, after all.”
The three-year-old little girl, with beguiling brown eyes just like her father’s, looks up from her own artistic endeavors. She cranes her neck, gaze focused on her dad, and seems to consider his request. A purple and pink bejeweled crown perched precariously on her head, lips pursed, and brow furrowed – she’s clearly thinking hard, but it’s not until Frankie says the magic words, “pretty please,” that she finally acquiesces.
It takes only a few moments to scoot the basket of shared crayons closer to her and relinquish your own, much smaller tiara and white, feather boa. You roll your old bones back into order, elbow bumping up against the plastic cup and saucer from an earlier tea party as you move from lying on your stomach to sitting up.
Frankie’s knees pop when he stands, and as you look up at him, your mind immediately switches from coloring inside the lines of Sebastian, Flounder, and Scuttle, to appreciating the broadest set of shoulders you’ve ever had the pleasure of digging your nails into. He offers you a small, knowing smile and a hand up, and you admire the strength and the flex of his bicep, your heart stuttering a bit at the way his eyes sweep over you in return. Frankie makes a motion for you to follow him, and you do just that, tiptoeing over toys and around laundry baskets. His long strides eat up the length of the hallway to the master bedroom in no time, and you’re right on his heels, stepping over the threshold when he gestures for you to enter first.
The door is left slightly ajar, allowing you both to hear his daughter and the movie playing in the background. Woody has just called Buzz “a child’s plaything” when he reaches for your hand, guiding you forward until you’re seated at the foot of the neatly made bed.
“Wanna talk to you about something,” Frankie starts.
Spine straightening, you clasp your hands in your lap, “Alright. I’m all ears.”
There’s a discernible shift – the air suddenly a little tense, a bit more serious. Lips pressed into a hard line and eyes dark with an as-yet-to-be-revealed purpose; he paces the small space between the dresser and closet like a caged lion, and you consider asking him what’s wrong, but he doesn’t give you the chance.
“I want to tell her about us,” he says, tone low and certain. “If that’s okay with you?”
Your body is engulfed with a combination of relief and excitement, as well as a hefty dose of nervousness.
You’d agreed from the start that neither one of you wanted to confuse Isabella or cause her any pain. And that pact you and Frankie made was exactly why his daughter – who is currently belting her ABCs with all the power her toddler's lungs possess – still believes you’re simply “a friend of Daddy’s from work.”
In the beginning, it had been a casual thing; more about sex (great, mind-blowing sex) and adult conversation than anything else, really. But as with all things tended to with passion and kindness, it grew, gradually morphing into something more – something significant. You knew about Isabella from day one, met her officially at month three, and then, just like that, Frankie and you were no longer simply dating.
A couple became a trio, and you were given a drawer and space in the medicine cabinet. You had a car seat installed in your sedan and your apartment was no longer a “bachelorette pad,” but a kid-friendly spot for the occasional weekend getaway. Purse staples, like lipstick, gum, and perfume, were replaced with a toddler-friendly gamepad, snacks, and sanitizing wipes. There are boxes of goldfish and teddy grahams in your cabinets, and string cheese and apple slices in the fridge.
You’ve been part of the bedtime routine – helping Isabella get into her pajamas and reading her a story before turning on the nightlight. You know she hides her peas in her potatoes and that she’s allergic to penicillin. You’ve noticed she prefers to wash her hands by herself and favors the giraffe toothbrush over the whale one.
You’ve seen Frankie handle her meltdowns and marvel at her milestones. You know about the handmade bracelet beneath the band of his watch, and that his iPod has more specialized playlists and audiobooks for her than it does for him. You’ve seen the preschool brochures and are aware of the college fund her honorary uncles, Ben, Will, and Santi, have started for her.
You also know about Isabella’s mother – have listened with a heavy heart as Frankie told you stories about their complicated past and too short-lived time together. You know the circumstances that took her away from them – the unknown, undiagnosed cardiomyopathy that snatched a mother from a five-month-old baby girl who needed her. You have smiled, lash line brimming – honored to be asked to help decorate a frame for a photograph of the very woman with whom Isabella shares the same chin and nose. It’s buttercup yellow, decorated with assorted beads and shells, and it has held a place of prominence on the nightstand ever since she got her big girl bed, which you and Frankie built together.
Isabella refers to you by your call sign, Hawk, and will “kree” excitedly whenever she runs to greet you. To her, you’re a playmate. A grown-up friend. You fix broken helicopters and sometimes sneak her cookies before dinner. You show up for movies on weekends and occasionally pick her up from daycare if Daddy is running late. The two of you work as a team to beat Frankie at Don’t Break the Ice and Go Fish. Bumper bowling and band-aids. Flus and fairy tales. Pinkie promises and potty training.  
“What’re you thinking?” Frankie asks.
There’s a hole in the knee of your jeans, and you tug at a loose thread until it begins to unravel. “Is she ready?” you wonder, winding the string around your finger and pulling hard until it comes free. “Are you? Really?”
Frankie reaches for your hands. Yanks you to your feet. You meet his gaze, finding an unwavering sureness that somehow steadies you and makes the butterflies in your stomach take flight. Eyes narrowed and the corner of his mouth quirked, he switches his hold to your upper arms, giving you a squeeze and little shake for good measure. It’s all silent, affectionate admonishment for what he clearly thinks are very silly questions, but still, he follows up with a tender kiss to your forehead and softly spoken assurances.   
“I’ve been working up the courage to ask you since her birthday two months ago,” he admits. “And Isabella is braver than you, me, and her uncles combined.”
It’s an assertion you can’t argue with because it’s so very, very true, so, you don’t. You just smile and nod, which prompts a hug that brings forth tears, and then, Frankie’s kissing you – gentle pecks on your damp cheeks that morph into a lip lock full of relief and love and unrestrained happiness.
The rest of the afternoon is a blur of chores and games and nap time that’s more about reading books and cuddling than actual napping. Frankie oversees the grill, while you and Isabella, sous chef extraordinaire, put a tray of fries and tater tots in the oven and set the table. Halfway through dinner is when he broaches the subject, reaching for your hand and holding it tightly while he tries to explain in toddler-friendly, simple terms that you’re more than a friend.
“You understand what I’m trying to say, querida?” Frankie finally asks.
“Daddy loves Hawk,” she chirps, swiping her index finger through a glob of ketchup and bringing it to her mouth. “Duh.”
You let out a burst of surprised laughter, and that, combined with Frankie’s admonishingly bemused, “Oh, mija!” makes Isabella kick her feet and giggle wildly. She dances in her booster seat, and as she worries a fry between her teeth and pulls the cheese off her bite-sized cuts of burger, you can’t help but smile because you adore her.
A bite of food. A sip of milk. After she’s declared she’s full and can eat no more, it’s bathtime. You do the dishes while Frankie has the fun, undoubtedly overindulging on the bubbles and toys. Row, Row, Row Your Boat echoes off the bathroom walls, but in this version, life isn’t a dream – it’s a bowl of spaghetti. You join back up with them in time to see the exciting saga that is hair combing and teeth brushing before the three of you head into Isabella’s room to get her dressed for bed.
“Daddy read,” she insists as her head pops through the shirt collar of her moon and star-themed pajamas. “Hawk tuck.”  
Two books, a potty break, and another book. Then, she’s conked out, with her favorite stuffed moose in her arms and owl-patterned sheets up around her shoulders. Frankie asks you to stay the night, and you say yes, the two of you spending what remains of your evening on the couch, chatting about everything and nothing, silently agreeing that the “what now” conversation can wait for another day. By the time you climb into bed beside him, your heart is full to bursting and your cheeks hurt from smiling.
“Daddy loves Hawk,” he mimics with a snort. “That kid… Already actin’ like she knows everything.”
“Can’t imagine where she gets that from,” you quip.  
He grunts, mockingly indignant, and waits for you to stretch out beside him before wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close. Nosing your hairline, he takes in a deep breath before exhaling a contented hum into the quiet, comfortable space between the two of you. You adjust your pillow, and when Frankie kisses you, it’s soft and sleepy, his mouth and bristly moustache brushing languidly against your lips and chin.
“I do love you,” Frankie rasps.
“I know,” you sigh. “And I love you.”
“Yeah?”
You nod, “You’re my bowl of spaghetti.”  
For a moment, he looks at you – all tired-eyes and quizzical brow – but it comes to him eventually, and when you start lightly humming the song, he groans low in his throat and gives your ass a playful swat.
“You know what?” he challenges.
You jut your chin, “What?”
A pause. A sigh. Another kiss – one that sizzles and lingers until he slowly pulls away.
“You’re my bowl of spaghetti, too.”
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imagitory · 4 months
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All right...for those of you who don't know my thoughts about Wish, yes, I wasn't happy with the finished result, but no, I'm not a hater. I'm mostly just disappointed that this project that had so many good ideas came out so half-baked, and THIS is a perfect example of what I mean.
No, it's not because "Star Boy" appears in it -- at least, not by itself. I do actually like Star's "himbo" personality in this, even if I also completely understand liking the idea of a mute version of the character. (The downside is that the mute Star from the finished film honestly doesn't have much personality outside of just being cute, in contrast to other mute magical Disney characters like Tinker Bell.)
No, the lost potential here is two-fold --
Firstly, I once again felt more emotion watching this storyboarded sequence than I did at any point in the finished film. I smiled hearing the fun banter between Star and Asha, insinuating that they're becoming closer despite their contrasting personalities; I felt some suspense in how Star and Asha were going to get away from evil!Queen Amaya; I even laughed pretty hard at the cat-and-yarn gag! I didn't laugh once while watching the finished movie.
Secondly -- and this point is actually the one I want to focus on more -- is the commentary given about why this scene was cut. I truly think another unspoken reason behind the decision was that this sequence was clearly inspired by the transforming chase scene in Nimona, which Disney of course infamously dropped when they closed Blue Sky Studios and later got picked up by Netflix, only to receive glowing reviews from just about everyone...but one of the core reasons that Head of Story Mark Kennedy cites for why they changed this scene (aside from wanting Star to be mute and not a shapeshifter like other Disney characters, which I'm a bit confused about because yeah, Disney's done cute, mute non-human characters before too -- what about Dopey, Pascal, Maximus, Dumbo, Bambi, Magic Carpet, Sven, and again Tinker Bell?) is that they wanted Asha to be the hero and be able to "solve all her problems" without Star's help.
Up to a point, I understand what Kennedy means -- the theme of the film is supposed to be that we all have the power inside of us to make a difference, and that's great. But by making it so that Asha doesn't need any help from Star, it takes something away from their relationship. No human is an island, and relationships, both in stories and real life, are often built on that fact. Just look at Ariel and Eric in the original Little Mermaid -- Ariel saves Eric from drowning and from Ursula zapping him with Triton's trident, and then Eric saves Ariel from Ursula by skewering her with the broken figurehead of a ship. Even in non-romantic examples, we have Judy and Nick having to help each other solve the case in Zootopia; Buzz and Woody helping each other get back to Andy in Toy Story; the Parr family and Frozone all fighting together against Syndrome's robot with their unique powers in The Incredibles; Jim Hawkins and Long John Silver working together to save themselves and everyone else at the end of Treasure Planet; even Anna helping Elsa learn how to control her magical abilities through an act of authentic, courageous, selfless love that only she can do in Frozen. These characters needing help and deep emotional connections with others is what creates a bond between them, helps the characters grow and change into stronger people, and makes us as an audience enjoy watching the two characters together. We become invested in both the two individual characters and the relationship forged between them. Because they all have their unique strengths and weaknesses, they supplement and complete each other. Even perfect paragon Superman in most DC properties isn't an island -- when he's in the Justice League, there are plenty of times where he needs help from Batman or other team members to save the day. Even Superman is a stronger character when he has people around him who can balance out his flaws.
If Asha never needs help, that runs the risk of the challenges she's facing seeming far less consequential, because no human can handle absolutely everything, all by themselves. Yes, perhaps in the finished film, Asha asks her friends to help her liberate the wishes (a task which ultimately fails, leaving Asha to confront Magnifico alone again and realize exactly what everyone has to do to defeat him on her own anyway)...but just in regards to Star and Asha's relationship -- which even the filmmakers have said is something like a "soulmate" relationship, though not in a romantic sense in the finished product -- these two can't have a meaningful connection if one of them is completely self-sufficient. This is also why quite a few Disney fans didn't like that the Little Mermaid remake changed Ursula's defeat to have it be Ariel who killed her, rather than Eric, because it hurt the "equal" dynamic between the main couple where they both helped and supported each other.
In short, "girl power" shouldn't have to mean never needing to rely on anyone else...and honestly, looking at this scene concept, we don't see Asha relying on Star too much! She's the brains of the outfit -- she's making plans; she's providing Star some much needed common sense; she's using Star's light as a distraction so they can get away...she even escapes Amaya at one point by sliding right under her horse! Asha in this storyboard is a bad-ass!
What we see in this sequence is these two characters having to help each other in order to succeed. And that would've been a great foundation on which to build more dramatic stakes and a relationship with actual pathos, whether romantic or not.
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ssadumba55 · 10 months
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The Gang Dealing with a New Traumatized Toy! Reader
Request: headcanons for Toy Story, specifically platonic separate headcanons for Woody, Jessie, Buzz and If you can then also Bo Beep with a 13 y/o toy gender neutral reader that comes to Andy's room pretty traumatized from their last home. (because they've spent their live in a home with abusive parents towards the child that owned them) They tend to flinch at almost everything and is very scared of yelling and/or loud noises, but somehow feels safe when they're with Woody/Jessie/Buzz/Bo and doesn't want to leave their side because they feel protected and at home when they're with them?
tw mentions of ab//se, both physical and verbal
General Headcanons for What Happened Before You End up In Andy's room
It had been a long road to get to Andy's room in the first place. Back at your old owner's house, you'd been a gift to the sweet little girl, Lucy, from her mother.
It was one of those rare moments when she had actually been happy. From the moment you were unpackaged and she held you, you knew you loved her more than anything else in the world.
Late nights were spent hidden under beds or in closets, being clutched to her chest. Any loud noise made the two of you flinch. It was your job to be the protector, so you tried your best. But there's only so much a toy can do
The other few toys strewn in the room appreciated your efforts though, they had been in torment far longer than you
The best times for Lucy was when she went to school, because there she was away from her parents and their harsh words and even harsher hands
Everyday you waited eagerly by the window for her to come home. You didn't get the same luxurious daily escape, but you were grateful she did.
One day, she never did come home. A stranger in a vehicle pulled up and came in the house. She talked to Mom and Dad, told them that your little girl could never come here again. Something about bruises found at school...
You never saw her again. It took a while, but eventually Mom and Dad gave all the toys, including you to a thrift store. You sat on the shelf grateful that your little girl got out but sad you couldn't go with her
"Mom! Oh! Mom! Look!" A little boy lifted you from your shelf with all the gentleness and reverence only a kid could show a treasured toy. He excitedly held you up
"That's just the one you've been looking for!" A woman smiled, ruffling her boys hair affectionately. You felt sick. You knew what happened to kids behind closed doors but your face did not move
That day, you became Andy's toy. He rushed home, scrawling his name on the bottom of your foot carefully
You were still waiting for the other shoe to drop
Woody
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Woody is a natural protector, so it isn't farfetched that you immediately latched onto him when you first arrive in Andy's room
Even though you appear much younger then the rest of the toys in your new home, it’s obvious to all of them that you’ve been through much more. The most obvious sign being the little flinches you have when loud noises happen
It's Woody's job to ensure the safety of all the toys in the room, including you
He doesn't mind that you're basically his shadow at all, if you're on your own at any point he may even offer you to come along with him
Sometimes, you like to hide in the closet or under the bed. It's quiet. It reminds you of safety. Woody always makes time in his busy schedule to join you. He never asks why you do it, he just joins you to make sure you're okay
Some of the other toys can be a little mean without realizing it, he always makes sure to set them straight when he hears someone talking about you, it's not your fault you are the way you are
One day, you work up the nerve to tell him what happened with your old kid. And he wraps his arms around you, holding you close. Promises that as long as you're in Andy's room you'll never have to worry about that again
He calls you his little deputy, and if you're feeling particularly down he may even let you wear his hat
Seriously, he adores you and you adore him just as much! He is such a softie, even though he tries to pretend he isn't. If you want or need anything he will get/do it for you.
Jessie
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Jessie is a traumatized toy, so she knows another traumatized toy when she sees one. She will definitely latch onto you before you can latch onto her
When she finds out your trigger is loud noises/yelling, she tries her best to keep her voice down (which is hard because she likes to be loud), she knows what it's like to have to suffer through something that makes you feel that way and she doesn't want you to have to feel that way
If yelling or loud noises are unavoidable, then she will find a safe quiet spot or offer her comfort. Holding your hand, an arm around your shoulders, whatever you need.
She will absolutely let you tag along with whatever she does, she might even teach you how to do some things.
And to comfort you, make you feel less alone, she'll tell you about Emily. When you're comfortable, you tell her about Lucy. And the two of you commiserate in old owners together, even if it's not exactly the same
If there's ever a situation where you need to be in a tight space or a box, you always offer the same comfort back to her because she does so much for you.
She will never make fun of you or push you out of your comfort zone if you don't want to be, she'll just be there cheering you on when you do feel like making progress.
And she's a hugger, so hugs will always be given. She loves having you around more than anything and would do anything to make sure you feel safe in Andy's room.
Buzz
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Buzz isn't dumb, but he can be a little clueless so when you first start following him around everywhere/clinging to him, he might be more than a little confused.
He might even find it a little annoying or weird, but overtime (and potentially with his friends' help) he will definitely realize that you do it because you feel safe around him
Despite knowing he's a toy now, being your safety net will fill him with a sense of pride and duty, knowing that he's fulfilling his destiny as a space ranger
He makes you a little helmet, not only so you can be like him but so you can use it to muffle/tune out loud sounds that you don't like or that scare you
And he'll make up space stories to calm you down if you happen to freak out a little or get super anxious.
The journey to recovery is a long one, but he wants to make sure you're comfortable and safe during it.
He will also hype you up and remind you how strong you are, especially in moments when you feel like everything is too much. He believes in you and he's proud of you for coming such a long way.
If you eventually feel comfortable telling him why you're upset, the idea of parents like that would keep him up at night. He had no idea people like that could even exist, having always been Andy's toy.
He reminds you all the time that they can't hurt you ever again and that you're safe now
Bo Peep
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She will adore you and feel so honoured that you feel safe around her, even though it isn't a huge surprise, after all she is a nursery lamp. It's her job to stand watch and make children feel safe.
Her soft voice and gentle demeanor are definitely what draws you to her, she never yells and as a result you feel safest with her because of that
If other toys are yelling or things become too overwhelming, she'll take you far from it and count sheep with you until you feel better
She will sing lullabies to you too if you ask her too, she doesn't mind being a comforting figure for you.
When she finds out the reason you're upset and guarded, all she'll want is to protect you. To shield you from everyone and everything that has ever hurt you and to make you feel better.
She never lets you out of her sight, the two of you spend long amounts of time together, talking or playing with her sheep. You love how calm she is compared to everyone else in the room.
She always seems to know something is wrong, before you actually say anything is wrong. It's like she can read your mind.
And if nightmares are a problem, she'll stay up with you all night just to make sure you always have someone to support you/in your corner.
She knows you need time to heal and she's grateful you decided to include her in that journey
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lostloveletters · 4 days
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Sunday Eve (John Brady x OC)
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Summary: On a freezing night blanketed with snow, John and Woody know how to keep each other warm.
Note: It’s been in the 80s here, so naturally I wrote a soft, smutty, post-war winter fic for them. I’m sorry if the formatting is weird, I’m posting this on mobile. Do not interact if you’re under 18, terf or radfem, or post thinspo/ED content.
Word count: 1.7k
Warnings: Period typical attitudes. Sexually explicit content involving vaginal sex (light breeding kink elements, but I wanted to mention it just in case). Do not interact if you’re under 18.
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John privately wondered if his Californian sweetheart regretted moving to Upstate New York for him when he found her sitting next to the radio in their small living room, bundled up in not one, but two of his sweaters, with a quilt from his grandmother on her lap. Woody’s eyebrows furrowed as the newscaster announced more snow overnight. He figured she would be used to it by then. England was no stranger to snow.
But the way she reacted to their first snow day together brought the magic back into it. She threw her arms around him and pulled him back into bed when he told her the schools were closed, which meant he had the day off of work. They spent half the day in bed, the other half dancing around the apartment and drinking whiskey they’d gotten as an engagement present, all hopeful attempts to mitigate the heating bill while money was still a little tight.
After two days of scattered snowfall, she appeared baffled that it wasn't coming to an end for the foreseeable future. She knew to expect it. Saw firsthand the rush of people bringing their cars into the shop for snow tires and chains. She got the hang of it quickly. ‘You’d hardly know she was from Los Angeles,’ her boss, an old friend of his father’s, had told John after mass one particularly chilly October morning. ‘San Francisco,’ John reminded him, to which he received a shrug in response.
“Ready to head to bed?” John asked. “We’re meeting my mom for lunch after mass tomorrow morning.”
His family adored Woody, especially when she shared her intent to convert to Catholicism. He didn’t know how to feel when she confided later on she was doing it for him, rather than out of spiritual conviction, which he suspected, anyway. He never wanted her to feel as though he were forcing her to do anything. ‘It’ll make things easier for us,’ she assured him.
The part that bothered him just as much was that it did. His family suddenly weren’t making as much of a fuss about them living together. Probably assumed they wouldn’t push their beds together or keep condoms in the nightstand. The monsignor promised them a wedding mass in the spring, the most coveted time of year to celebrate the sacrament of holy matrimony—provided she completed catechism by then. She was on track to, so long as she kept showing up to mass.
“Will the roads even be cleared?” she asked.
He smiled. “We’re used to it here, sweetheart. You’d be surprised.”
She turned off the radio, getting up from the armchair and throwing the quilt over the back of it. He reached for her hand, taking it in his and pressing a kiss to her calloused palm.
Their bedroom was chilly when they slipped beneath the covers together after rushing through their respective nighttime routines, brushing teeth and changing into pajamas. In Woody’s case, taking off one of his two sweaters she’d requisitioned for herself, not having much of a winter wardrobe of her own.
Compared to the Stalags and freezing night marches, though, their drafty old apartment felt like heaven with the radiator buzzing and Woody in his arms. John dreamed about such a moment so many times, he needed to remind himself it was real. Pressed a kiss to the crown of her head, her hair soft and smooth against his lips. She trembled against him, breathing out a soft sigh.
“Sweetheart?”
“Keep me warm,” she whispered, nuzzling her nose against his cheek. “Please, Johnny?”
“We have to get up to go to mass tomorrow,” he gently reminded her.
Woody wanted him morning and night, and in between too, if he could manage it. Far from a complaint, but he was certain he was the only man in the world with such a dilemma as making sure to wake up early enough to sate his love’s desire before getting along with the day. When the topic came up among his coworkers or old college buddies, they grumbled with foreign tales of fiances and wives who feigned headaches or went to sleep early.
As soon as she shifted, better positioning herself to give him a kiss, he gave in. With little more than a glance his way or brush of their lips, she could silently transform her desires into his own, making him ache for it, too.
“Turn on a lamp,” she said, her voice low and husky. “I wanna see you, honey.”
And who was he to deny her? Nighttime could be formidable, but far less so with Woody around, ready to take on whatever haunted him with the determination that earned her the admiration of so many at Thorpe Abbotts. Didn’t care if it meant forgoing sleep or engaging in odd rituals when he needed a hand to reach out and bring him back from the depths. She dove in without hesitation.
So, within seconds of her request, the amber glow of his bedside lamp washed over them. She smiled, fondness and adoration in the gold-tinged forest of her eyes as she caressed his cheek, drawing him in for another heated kiss as he moved on top of her, straddling her hips, plusher and wider since they arrived stateside and received regular helpings of family cooking. Made it hard for him to keep his hands off of her even outside of their bedroom.
He reached down, slipping his hand down the waistband of her pajama pants and between her thighs—warm and wet, he easily slid two fingers inside her. He knew it wasn’t a sin. Not anymore. Not with her. It couldn’t be.
She moaned against his mouth when he rubbed her clit with his thumb. Rocked her hips for more friction.
“I want you inside me,” she said breathlessly, grabbing for his cock, tugging his pants down and croaking out a desperate, “please.”
He buried his length inside her, swallowing the groan that caught in his throat when he felt her pussy squeeze around his cock. Found a steady pace as she pulled him closer, pressing his body against hers, like she was trying to make him part of her.
She cried out for more as her eyelids fluttered shut. “John—oh my god—harder.”
“Look at me,” he demanded, echoing her earlier sentiments, “I wanna see you, sweetheart.”
She opened her eyes, bright and wild in a way that sent a delicious shiver down his spine. His fingers played with her clit, could feel how close she was. He thrust harder, rougher as her moans filled his ears, her voice hoarse as she came loudly, her pussy pulsing around his cock.
His hips shuddered. His brain felt fuzzy, almost lost himself before asking, “Where should I—“
“On my stomach.” She hastily bunched up her sweater just below her breasts, exposing it to him.
His blunt nails scratched gently against her bare stomach, soft and inviting. Tried not to think about it round and full with child, his child, one day when she wasn't so afraid. He recognized the uncertainty that flashed in her eyes whenever someone brought it up. ‘Not until you’re ready,’ he had promised with all the understanding he could manage despite the animal part of him trying to claw its way through. She’d look so pretty, so perfect. She’d be his wife soon, after all.
But it’d be worth the wait. She waited two years for him and didn’t waver. He’d do the same for her the world over. They belonged to each other.
“Fuck,” he groaned, pulling out just before he came, his seed spilling onto her stomach as his orgasm rocked through him. Buried his face in the crook of her neck, her skin warm with a sheen of sweat. Made his mind hazy with the feel, the smell of her intertwining with pleasure until he was spent.
With a shaky breath and equally shaky hand, he reached over to his nightstand, grabbing a handkerchief to wipe his cum off of her stomach. Didn’t need to look at her face to know she was eyeing him like a bird of prey. He threw the soiled fabric aside and pulled down her sweater to cover her again.
She grabbed him by the collar before he could move back to his side of the bed, pressing soft kisses to his neck, the prelude to gentle bites on his collarbones and then lower, and even lower. He took a deep breath, mustering up all of the resolve he could to pull away from her.
“We have to get up early tomorrow,” he said, as sternly as he could manage.
A small pout made its way onto her lips before she relented with a slight smile. “Alright, honey.” She gave him a kiss on the cheek. “I love you.”
He turned off the bedside lamp. “I love you too.”
Heat radiated off of her as she curled up against him. He stroked her hair, tongue between his teeth as he tried to fight off the urge to indulge her—and himself. She always took a while to fall asleep, even when he was convinced he tired her out.
Slowly, his hand drifted lower until he found the thick, cuffed hem of her sweater and slid his hand up it, playing with her breasts, rolling one of her nipples between his fingers.
A pleased hum came from her throat before she gently taunted him. “You just said—“
“You’ll make me extra coffee in the morning to make up for it.”
Her laughter tore through the darkness as he pulled her on top of him with a wicked grin.
——
John woke up before Woody. He almost always did. She could sleep until nearly noon if he let her, which he did sometimes. Usually, though, around ten in the morning, after already being up for a few hours on his own, he’d find himself missing her and coax her awake.
He rolled out of bed, pulling on his old flannel robe before the frigid morning air could bite him too hard. He nearly winced at the loss of body heat, sparing a longing glance to Woody, still curled up under the covers.
Shuffled over to the bedroom window and pulled back the thick curtain, something he had to put up when they realized how much of a draft it let in otherwise. All he could see outside was white. The whole block was covered in a thick blanket of fresh snow—including the roads. He sighed in relief, something he’d surely have to confess the following week.
John hurried back to Woody’s side, eager to relay the good news to her. “Hey,” he whispered, stroking her cheek. “The roads haven’t been cleared yet.”
She smiled, grabbing him by his shirt and pulling him back into bed. “Thank god.”
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thenewblackcanvas · 7 months
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Spooky 3 (California Kings// Poly Chanlix)
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poly chanlix (bang chan x reader x felix) themes: polyamory/throuple, fluffy, funny, two boyfriend shenanigans, mention of sex, alaskan king bed (not californian king), three parts of halloween with your boyfriends ♡ Spooky Season 2023♡
Part I: Costumes
“Ok boys,” you announced as you jumped onto the bed where the two were relaxing. “spooky season is upon us. It is time to decide on costumes.“
Felix sat up excitedly. “Oh yeah! We have to do something good.”
“Should we go trio again?”
Chan, who was watching tv, paused his video. “It’s one of the fun things about being together. You have to take advantage of it.”
You nodded. “Important question: are either of you opposed to wearing dresses?”
Chan seemed confused but Felix just shrugged. “Nah.” Chan echoed the same sentiment after a moment before adding “Do you have a good idea or do you just want to see us in dresses?”
“Yeah,” Felix added. “Because we’ll do it anytime.”
The thought made you giddy but you refocused. “In that case, we could always go classic trio. Powerpuff Girls!”
The men seemed less than enthused. 
You shrugged “Just a thought.”
“Hmm,” Chan hummed in thought. “What about Ghostbusters?”
“There are 4 Ghostbusters.” You frowned.
He groaned, rolling his eyes. “Ok maybe we just say Stantz is sick.”
Felix shook the mattress as he jumped up and down in excitement. “O! What about Batman, Robin, and Batgirl!”
Your eyes light up. “That’s a great idea!”
Chan sat up, now excited as well. “Good idea, Lix!”
“I wanna be Robin!” the younger says.
“I’ll be Batman. Robin shouldn’t go kissing my girl though.” Chan jests.
He starts searching for costumes on his laptop as Felix protests next to him. “Actually Dick and Barbara were together-” 
“Sure, Boy Wonder.”
Felix jumps on Chan as they begin to play fight. You laugh as you take the laptop and peruse through a list of trio costumes. Some are interesting though less fun than Felix’s idea, others have you cringing at the suggestions.
“Oh what about Woody, Buzz, and Jessie from Toy Story!”
Chan sits up from where he has Felix pinned under him, holding the boy’s wrists in his hand. “Oh that’s a good one too!”
Felix squirms under him. “I wanna be Buzz!”
“Trying to get with my girl again, Lightyear?”
“Buzz and Jessie are together!”
Chan knows that but has fun egging his boyfriend’s ranting on.
Next to them, you add both positively received ideas to the list, knowing you might have to deal with it more later since your boyfriends seem riled up now.
Part II: Party Party...yeah?
Three drunks at party can get rough.
Part of the time you three are glued together, somewhere in the middle of where the dancing is happening, grinding on each other in a way that has people that don’t know you questioning if they’re going to see a threesome and the three of you about to give them that show.
Or
The other times you are all lost in the dim party lighting unsure of when you separated. You become aware of the lack of warmth you’re used to and drunkenly look for your boyfriends. Thankfully, you find your oldest boyfriend with a trash bag. Somehow he’s managed to clean part of the kitchen in the time you lost track of him. With a groan, you take the bag from him. “We need to find Lixxie. I’m tired and the music is making me want to hit someone.”
He seems to sober up ever so slightly, recognizing you’re at the point where you can’t handle being around other people like this. Last time he and Felix insisted on you staying with them you ended up passing out in a linen closet and they couldn’t find you for three hours.
He takes your hand intending to lead you but you walk much faster. You want to find your third before you start crying. Alcohol and your emotions make for a rollercoaster when you aren’t careful. 
And with the way the three of you were downing "ghost shots" when you arrived, you weren’t careful at all.
Chan spots the blonde in his Robin costume. You didn’t see him at first but saw the man sifting through the bowl of candy as you approached. 
“You remember we have candy at home right?” Chan says making Felix jump. He was barely phased by the older being strangely close, instead, his attention turned to your purse. “Yeah, but this is free candy.” He gently tugs you closer to him by the strap. You’re confused for a second, not having paid attention too much thanks to how good he looks in his costume, until you realize what he’s doing. He unzips your bag, dumping his loot in. The purse is more decorative than anything else but he doesn’t seem to care much.
“Technically our candy IS free for you because I bought it.” Chan chastises though doesn’t try to stop him. Clearly, he wasn’t listening anyway as he took a final mini snicker before zipping the bag.
He finally looks up at you, whining. “Can we go home now?”
Chan rolls his eyes probably muttering how that is why you both came to find him but you're so endeared by him you just nod and take his hand.
Part III: Back to Bed
Coming into the house was already alleviating the pressure you felt. As if you couldn’t stand it anymore you started to strip as you made for the bedroom immediately. Felix follows suit, mask then cape, before basically breaking the back of the outfit to pull it down around his waist. Chan starts cleaning up behind you two silently.
By the time you flop back on the bed, you’ve somehow managed to pull yours completely off.
Chan sees Felix struggling with the tightness of the pants. You open your eyes at the grunt Felix lets out. As you watch Chan start to strip Felix you feel the sparks of arousal. Felix in turn helps your Batman do the same. Your mind starts to delve further into desire as he fixes Chan’s hair after undressing him. It’s short-lived as Felix pouts, putting his arms out to hug you but tackling you backward onto the bed instead. You laugh as you stroke his head. His hair tickles you while he buries his face in your neck. You look up, wondering why Chan hasn’t joined yet. 
Silently, he’s picking up everything on the floor. You watch for a moment as he flints around the room like a fairy, cleaning the tornado that is his drunken partners. You laugh to yourself as you get up. Doing as you did earlier, you take the discarded costume from his hand. He looks confused but lets you lead him to the bed. You sit on the bed, holding his hand to drag him with you as you scoot back. Felix finds you again with his eyes still closed as Chan lays on his back with a deep sigh. 
The alcohol settles in your system again as you feel how tired you are. 
Chan seems to feel the same. “Only two more to go.”
“Huh?” you look over to him, his hands behind his head and his eyes closed.
He opens an eye to peek at you. “Minho’s party is next week.” Chan states.
“And our company party is on Halloween.” Felix adds.
You groan loudly rolling to your side to curl into a ball. Somehow you’d forgotten it was only the 20th. ���We shoulda just gone as ghosts.”
Felix laughs and he sits up resting on your side. “Sounds like more free candy to me.”
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spooky season mlist * poly chanlix
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mythicalartistx · 5 months
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KH3 Worlds ACTUALLY Matter and show Major Parallels and Foreshadowing through Sacrifice and Separation
The worlds in KH3 are often seen as just retelling of the Fairytales but with added Sora and his friends or Organization members. Because of this they're often disliked especially when there are some sections that are scene for scene and Sora and the others might not be present for this.
However, if you get passed the fact it's a retelling of the movie and get into how it connects with Kingdom Hearts story, they actually play a major role.
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Olympus: Sacrifice
Olympus shows themes of sacrifice and love. It shows that Hercules didn't think and all he knew was that Meg was in trouble and threw himself in harm's way to save her. He sacrificed himself by doing that but also sacrificing his godhood to be with Meg. He would have to be separated from Meg and that's not the kind of life he would want to live.
Later on Riku ends up doing the exact same thing. When Sora feels powerless and all alone he sacrifices his being and life for Sora. And I could also argue he does it out of love because when he does this he doesn't necessarily think of his actions but does it to his devotion to Sora and protecting him like he always promised Terra.
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Corona: Sacrifice
In the Tangled world, Rapunzel is willing to sacrifice her freedom to save Flynn's life and become separated from the outside world she's grown to love forever.
However, Flynn decides that her freedom is more important and sacrifices himself by cutting her hair which could make her lose the power to heal.
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Rapunzel is also compared to Riku because they both so desperately felt trapped. Riku felt trapped at the island and wished to leave and explore other worlds with Sora and Kairi to point where if the raft didn't work out, he would open the door to darkness. I'll also like to include they both felt that someone they were close to left them for others.
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Toy Box: Separation
In Toy Box, we learn of how Woody and Buzz among a few other had separated from half of their group. However, they are later seen that the world was split in half and are separated from their beloved friends. They realize at the end their friends who they've been separated from that they are always connected through their hearts.
And this goes back to how Sora will soon be separated from everyone and become stuck at the Quadratum. It also shows that he is always connected to them through his hearts and that's how he uses/and abuses the power of waking through that connection.
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Arrendale: Sacrifice
When Elsa is about to get slashed by Hans' sword, Anna who is in the brink of death rushes in and saves her by taking the hit instead. She freezes at the same time and makes it so the sword shatter from her entire body becoming ice. She sacrifice her life for her. Elsa manages to thaw her and the cold weather by the act of love.
Which Riku then does the act of love when he sacrifices his life for Sora. Riku is also compared to Elsa on how they both pushed the people they loved/ cared about away to protect them.
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Monstropolis: Separation
In this world, Sullie goes through separation of being away from Boo. They have to separate so Boo will be safe.
This also refers to how Sora ends up in the Quadratum from bringing back Kairi and abusing the power of awakening by using it too many times.
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100 Acre Woods: Separation
In this world, Pooh talks to hope they're growing apart and that he misses Sora. Sora feels sad that they're not as close. The eventual outcome is that he'll always be in his heart no matter what.
I feel like this refers to him and Kairi not being as close as they were before. Ever since KH1 things changed between them and she changed. She's no longer the Kairi he knew and they are slowly growing apart. (Which is honestly sad). It also shows that even if he's by himself in the Quadratum he'll have everyone in his heart no matter how far away they are.
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Fransankyoto: Separation + Sacrifice
Unlike the others I decided to say this world shows both. In the past, Hiro's brother separated from him when he sacrificed himself to try to find and save the teacher. This is also reflected in the past when beymax also stays behind to sacrifice himself so Hiro can then leave.
It helps shows the connections that no matter how far they are away, the people you love and care for will be in his heart. This shows that to help save everyone he used his connection to his friends to bring them that. It furthers that he won't be alone in the Quadratum and that Riku was able to go to him in MOM because of this.
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PoTC: Separation
Finally in the pirates world, we show separation. After Will gets stabbed and he is made Captain of the Flying Dutchman, he faces separation from the one he loves Elizabeth. Only every 10 years are they able to see each other.
This foreshadows both being separated from the ones Sora loves and bringing back all his friends' hearts when Will's life almost gets taken when he gets stabbed. Being apart for 10 years also could lead to how it will take at least a year to find Sora in the Quadratum.
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