MINORS DNI 18+

RAFE CAMERON who manages to grab the waistband of your little shorts, keeping you from escaping with the rest of the Pogues as they speed away. He yanks you into him, wrapping an arm around your waist to lift your feet from the ground. Hopelessly, you fight back, heartbroken your friends have to leave without you while you’re stuck on the boat that carries the Cross of Santo Domingo and the traitor who kept it out of the hands of its rightful owner. “Where’d you think you were goin’, huh?” Rafe’s smug and husky voice fills your ear, and instinctively you jerk away. Claws rake at his corded forearm pinning your back to his side but it’s no use. He lumbers off with you in hand.

Stuck with him in close proximity on this boat means you get no privacy. No room to yourself, no room to breathe. Rafe Cameron is breathing down your neck at every turn. You’re with the Pogues for life, but Rafe’s got a hold on you you can’t shake. You had no idea what to call it, friends, exes, lovers, you couldn’t label it. All you know is for the next couple weeks while he transports that cross he’s got your legs spread, speared on his dick, every which way. “S’good way to pass the time.” he tells you. Cock licking your insides with the deliberate roll of his hips, his cords of muscle moving fluidly under his skin. “I’m too soft on you, aren’t I? Y’know, you rebel against me, show me you’re tough, but when it comes down to it you’re begging me to put you in your place, huh? Where’s that place, baby?” His questions go unanswered as you can barely piece together what your name is let alone what he wants you to say. His pelvis drives harder, smacking skin on skin to a painful degree, until he squeezes choked sounds out of you. “Huh? Where’s it at?” he asserts with more force this time, dragging his bottom lip through his teeth.

“Right here, Rafey, right here.” you promise, clinging onto him tighter: hands in his shirt, legs wound around his torso, pussy pulsing. You belong right here underneath him and you know it.

“Don’t start that ‘Rafey’ shit with me, I’m pissed at’you.” he sneers, his intense eye contact demanding your attention when he grabs your chin to make you look at him. “You think they’re gonna come back for you? Naw, baby, you’re stuck with me. And there ain’t a thing you can do about it.”

anakin kissing gum outta your mouth

oh indy i'm so glad you talk to me about gross!anakin cause he's my fav <3

--

yeah he does kiss gum out of your mouth. the first time he does it you are appalled. he grabs your jaw and leans in and you tuck it into the side of your cheek so that you can kiss him semi-properly but he jams his tongue rather unceremoniously into your mouth to fish it out. It's gross and spitty and drooly and wet, it's probably the sloppiest kiss you've ever gotten, but when he curls his tongue over it and sucks it into his own mouth you feel a fucking shiver up your spine. I'm talking one that tightens up your shoulders. Electric.

let me tell you he is delighted by how indignant/horrified you are. the more you huff and puff about how that was disgusting, how that was your gum with your spit on it, the wider his grin grows, wolfish and satisfied. it's an open-mouthed grin that perfectly showcases the gum he's still chewing on, and he grabs you around the waist when you try getting up to get another stick.

He'll take turns with you, but only because he gets to pinch your cheeks all hollowed and then spit the gum into your mouth. he gets a real nice view of your mouth open and ready for him, and depending on where he's put his massive hands, he can feel your pulse racing every time he manhandles your face. he might give you an extra glob of spit along with the gum but he wants you to let it pool around your mouth while you chew on the gum and mix it with your own spit, not waste it by swallowing it all

𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐛𝐨𝐨𝐩 ; 𝐬𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐛𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐬

>>> drabbles for the main sally face boysss, sal fisher, and larry johnson. sal’s is inspired by bubblegum by clairo, larry’s is inspired by east liberty by partnextdoor.

𝐬𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐫 —

mildly obsessed with the uncertainty of ghost hunting.

too curious for his own good. literally curious george. the curiosity that killed the cat.

laid-back, doesn’t give a damn about most things.

has a very deep voice for a teenager. sounds like a literal grown man.

sometimes you can’t tell if he’s even awake.

“sal? sally? sal??” he’s just staring into the void.

“what?” he had to sneeze. that’s why he paused and went radio silent for two minutes straight.

you spend most of your time in his room, curled up on his bed reading while he sits on his bean bag chair and plays video games.

sometimes turns around to make sure you’re still awake / doing okay.

one time you put a toy rat next to him. he nearly shit his pants when he noticed it.

“(y/n)?” “hm?” “you’re fuckin’ ugly.”

doesn’t mean it. apologizes right after. he thinks he’s so funny.

grew comfortable enough around you to lift up his mask far enough to eat.

whenever you sleep over, he’ll take off his mask once all the lights are off.

loves watching movies with you, especially when there’s snacks involved.

will listen to every sanity falls album over and over again with you.

you had been switching between reading, doing homework, and playing video games for close to five hours, well into the twilight era of the night. it was 10pm when you decided to start getting ready for bed, being as both of you had school in the morning. you showered as sal brushed his teeth and combed through his hair, then switched. sal showered as you did your skincare and brushed your teeth and put your hair up. you both fell into his bed after he switched the light off, taking your respective sides. you liked to sleep next to the wall for the purpose of putting your body against it if it got too hot, and sal liked sleeping closest to the door for emergency purposes. you wore his tshirt and boxers, and he wore boxers. you turned over to face him, propping your arm underneath your head. he laid with his hands behind his head, staring up at the ceiling. “sal?” “hm?” his gruff voice always soothed you in a strange way. “can i.. touch you?” you heard the movement of the sheets as he turned his head. even in the dark you could tell he was looking at you. “what?” “can i touch you? like, your face?” sal had never let you see his face up to this point. he preferred to keep it hidden, only sometimes letting you see his lips. he was silent. “you don’t have to.” “okay. you can.” you looked at where you assumed he was, breathing in deep. “are you sure?” “yeah.” he whispered. you slowly reached out, feeling out for where his face was. you found it, your fingertips pressing lightly against his cheeks. he flinched under your touch, a sharp inhale sounding through the little space you had between your bodies. “are you okay?” you whispered, starting to retract your hands. “yes. it’s fine.” you nodded, swallowing a lump in your throat that wouldn’t go away. you loved sal. you knew vaguely of his past and understood where the roots of his insecurity started, but societally accepted face or not, nothing would change your love for him. you gently ran your fingers over the expanse of his skin, feeling his lips and cheekbones, and the dips. the missing flesh, the scars. and you loved it. loved him, loved what made him so unique. you pulled your hands away slowly, grinning to yourself. you could hear the quiet sniffle. “sal? are you alright?” “do you think i’m.. gross?” he asked. your heart broke. you moved closer and wrapped your arms around him, resting your head against his chest. his arm slung over your body naturally, pulling you closer. “no, sally. i could never. you’re beautiful.” he turned his head, resting his face on your hair. you felt the very slight puckering of his lips as he kissed the crown of your head. “thank you.”

𝐥𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐲 𝐣𝐨𝐡𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 —

his mom LOVES YOU. absolutely adores you. you two have girls nights all the time.

took you to the sanity falls concert tour for your birthday, kissed you in the rain, and took you home sopping wet. your dad wasn’t pleased.

“uh— we got caught in the rain, sir.” “i see that.”

apologized for weeks. it still makes you laugh.

smokes so much weed it’s a miracle he remembers his name.

“hey man, how’s my driving?” “…i think we’re parked, man.” vibes

you’re constantly sleeping over at his place, you have a drawer in his dresser dedicated to your belongings.

is very meticulous with his hair. has a hair care routine. refuses to cut it for any reason.

has painted you on multiple occasions. boudoir shoots happen often.

“paint me like one of your french girls.”

loves watching horror movies with you.

is surprisingly very gentle and sweet, especially when you’re upset. unless it’s with travis. fuck travis. all my homies hate travis.

“hey, girl. what’s the matter?”

holds you until you feel better and is very patient

listens to the sanity falls albums constantlyyy it drives you crazy.

“larry— stop. you’re gonna green out.” he exhaled a huge cloud of smoke directly into your face, smirking. “greening out is a make-believe concept made up by losers who can’t handle their marijuana.” you swear larry only knows big words when he’s high. when he’s sober, he has the articulation of the average seventh grader, but when he’s high he turns into fucking shakespeare and it’s crazy. specifically because if he’s high, there’s a good chance you’re high, and you won’t understand half the shit he says. the sound of the tardy bell rattled against your skull as it rung throughout the entire school, screaming at you and larry to get to class before the dean came hunting you down. you took one more big drag from the blunt you two had rolled during study hall before stamping it out and throwing it in the toilet, flushing the evidence. you two shuffled out of the tiny bathroom stall, looking at each other proudly. “sniff me.” you stepped closer and sniffed his shirt, him doing the same for you. “nah, i think we’re good.”

ya’ll were not good. both of you smelled absolutely rank, so it was truly no surprise when you ended up in the dean’s office, but it surprised you to see larry sitting in the office waiting area with a bloody nose. “oh, hey man.” you fist bumped him as you plopped into the chair next to him, manspreading the entire seat. “what happened to your face?” “fuckin’ travis wanted to run his mouth. kicked his ass, but when i turned around he clipped me in the nose. kicked his ass again, now i’m here.” “word.” you were so faded it was humorous. “what about you? what’d you do this time?” “ms. fat tits sent me out because i was ‘stinking up the room’ and if i ‘wanted to smoke pot and ruin my mind’ i needed to do it at home.” you cackled, larry joining in.

“is something funny?” the principal asked the both of you. you straightened up and held your breath, shaking your head no. you and larry looked at each other from the corner of your eyes simultaneously and you exploded with laughter. long story short you both got suspended for three days. did you give a fuck? hell no. hence why you were now in larry’s room in nothing but a sanity falls tshirt and underwear, rolling up another fat one. “you’re my favorite person, y’know that?” “(y/n), shut the fuck up.” he shook his head, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “you’re my favorite person too.”

saw your post about poolboy!reader and as someone's who also at a pool, hell yes. reader trying to stay profession and not drool over hot women

also they would jump into the water to save a hot lady (who may or may not be faking to be carried by reader) m

oo! yes yes, i highly agree anon!

reader is always so professional when it comes to their job, trying to wander around the pool to lookout for others and be aware, but as soon as they meet women who are most likely to catch their eyes, that persona crumbles down!

they are so likely to internally scream at the amazing sights, trying to not drool so intensely at the view of women wearing revealing things. although they’ve seen countless women wearing similar things, nobody could beat the ones they see right now.

and as soon as one of them seem to be in possible danger, they’re quick to hear the pleas for help and jump into the pool heroically, taking the opportunity to shine and show themselves.

as soon as they have the lady in their arms, they’re quick to have the professional personality back on, to avoid any suspicious behaviour.

they still observe the way the woman would look at them astonished, thanking them confidently for the assistance.

reader as usual, gives a stoic “no problem, it’s part of the job.” but the lady seems to be unsatisfied by the response, seeing how they look like they have no interest in her whatsoever.

but then the vivid image of you eyeing them so intently earlier popped back up in her head.

so giving you a small smirk, she uses the advantage of still being in your arms to lean closer to you ear, whispering,

“is there any way i can thank you personally?~”

My Queen, my Queen.

"My deepest apologies.. My queen." Kinger whispers to himself as he sits on the edge of the stage.

"A monstrosity like that was never like of you.."

Kinger looked down at his hands to stare at the robe that was once wrapped around a queen. The robe that used to glitch and distort on the day of Queenie's abstractory; now in perfectly good shape like it hasn't been touched in years. The soft texture of the fabric only made Kinger want Queenie to be right next to him once more. He wanted to feel that same comforting presence that she had left upon just one more time.

Thinking back to the day of Queenie abstracting replays in Kinger's mind. The way that Queenie looked at Kinger like he was her only hope of getting out of it alive brought tears in his eyes.. How her eyes twitched, and her hands got all shakey-She was unable to speak, let alone read her own thoughts. Kinger saw her leave her digital body to become something so much worse. How she didn't even scream after assuming that abstracting would cause so much pain left a permanent scar in Kinger's mind.

However, he wonders if abstracting is the only way out. If that were true then Queenie would be back to where she had first picked up that headset. She would had finally have the option to take it off her head after many many years of trying to find something that lead them out of the digital world.

But.. What if she's forever in her form? crying in agony from how much pain she must be in knowing that Caine will never figure out how to un-abstract her, and the rest that are down in the dark and sorrow cellars that Caine keeps them under.

Forever roaming in his thoughts, those same tears had start to run down his face. He balled up his fists, and ended up taking parts of the robe that was still in his hands in a tight hold.

Even after all of that thinking, Kinger doesn't know what to do. He knows he is no help to the ones who have already abstracted. How can he of all people fix something that is potentially forever broken?

"Someday, my queen.. Someday, When the time comes, we'll see each other again." Kinger says, holding up the robe to burry his face in while more tears leave his eyes.

The night went on with Kinger still clinging onto the robe of what once was worn by a queen, and is now used as a blanket for one who is huddled under a fort of pillows that the chess piece was taught to make for comfort to stop his thoughts from making him abstract.

"So whenever you ask me again how I feel, please remember my answer is you."

I WANT TO SEE MICHEAL AFTON WHIMPERING AND WHINING IN PINK LINGERINE WHILE ME AND HIM REFORD A SEX TAPE NOW 💯💯🔥🔥!!!

I might write this.

Femslash February

⬡ Prompt: Copycat & blind date (sweet bingo) | Indis x f!Manwë ⬡ Synopsis: Manwë decides to meet Indis in a different fána ⬡ Warnings: / ⬡ Drabble

AN: Manwë uses she/her pronouns while in female form; before the change, it's he/him as usual (Ainur should probably be more fluid in general, but I digress)

It had come to Manwë's attention that Queen Indis had grown fond of female company and found more comfort in it. 

Thus when it came to meeting her, he fashioned a new fána for himself, one like his wife's. 

"My lord – no, my lady?" Indis asked, uncertain. 

"A queen, just for you," Manwë smiled. 

Indis bowed deeply, enchanted by the new shape of the Elder Queen, and kissed her hand. 

And so it came to pass that Manwë was invited into her chambers and entertained her with her new, unfamiliar, exciting presence, keeping her company until her sorrows were soothed. 

Thanks for reading! ♡

taglist: @asianbutnotjapanese @a-world-of-whimsy-5 @eunoiaastralwings @i-did-not-mean-to @singleteapot @stormchaser819 @wandererindreams

For Nolofinwëan Week:

Fingolfin and Indis, stolen fresh baked cookies.

Thank you for the ask! For @nolofinweanweek, 100 words, slightly adapted:

Ingwë’s golden people are light of foot, buoyant in their dancing, all given over to joy. Indis teaches her children that gossamer stride, that gentle passing from one realm to another, from stone to song to light. Findis dances her way up Taniquetil, vanishing from war and history. Lalwen and Finarfin are led to laughter, to the arms of silvery Círdan and Eärwen, to love in a tangled light. Fingolfin is most subtle, all that airy grace poured into strategy. He bides his time, builds alliances with unsuspecting cooks, sneaks cakes from the kitchen to share with his mother, laughing.

I'm still taking drabble prompts for this week. Drop me an ask if you'd like one!

MINORS DNI 18+

Every eight months or so you see BABY DADDY!JASON TODD who turns up when it's most convenient. Having a grip on the criminal underworld means he's on top of it full-time, not to mention whatever's closest to him gets torched as soon as an enemy gets a whiff of it. Just his presence puts you and the daughter you have with him in danger, which he acts like it's no big deal.

"Can't I just see her?" his pleading tone is enough for your demeanor to crack. You were never very good at saying no to him, but ever since you and him broke it off you've been gradually pushing him out of your life. For everyone's sake. "She's my daughter, too. You can't keep her from me." Playing a card that gets more and more difficult to refuse.

It’s enough to cave like you always do. Slowly he creeps his way back into your life, and in his eyes it’s regaining his rightful place in your bed. Hanging around turns into catching up turns into putting your daughter to sleep turns into crashing at your place. "Got a long way back. Just this once." he'd said, and you fell for it.

Now he's got you folded in half, mounting you from the back with big hands keeping you pinned. He groans, a low rumble that sends shivers up your spine as you feel his tip nudging your hole, seeking out the give. The sheer weight of him pushes you into the mattress, sinking as he arches your spine painfully. Such a big guy prepping your back to break and you wouldn't have it any other way.

"Jay, put it in." you quiet plea is met with his gentle shush.

"Don't wanna wake anybody up." he sings tauntingly, and you clutch onto the sheets tighter. His swollen head prods in, and the sting of the stretch elicits your sharp inhale. "Fuck, baby, almost forgot how good you feel. Never feel like this with anyone else."

Angrily, your fist bangs against the mattress; unable to decipher if your resentment that flares up stems from your familiarity with him or the fact he brought up he sleeps with other people while he's inside you. "Jay." you scold, that pet name that only you get to call him.

He answers you with a mean buck, your ass bouncing on his hips as he plunges in without polite accommodation. You cry out from surprise, but bury your face in the covers to muffle yourself. Little whimperings surface as he continues on, bottoming out every time, letting the natural bound of your body do the work as he pushes it forward just for it to spring back from the position. Your slick coats him, forming in a pretty white cream at the base. "I missed this," he releases in a husky exhale. "Can't keep away from this pussy, she grabs me too good." Wet and warm, full body chills run down him as your hole swallows him up, and his nails dig into the flesh at your torso as if daring you to move. He's not above shoving you right back down.

idgaf about eddie but i’ve wanted venom since i was a wee lad. venom who’s all big and mean and manhandles you because you’re nothing. talks about how he could squash you like a bug between his fingers yet here you are letting him fuck your interesting little human pleasure hole

FUCK indy i've had this brewing in my inbox and now i've finally got the time to give it the attention it deserves <3

this post is 18+, minors dni. cw for mentions/'threats' of extreme violence/death, don't like don't read.

"I could kill you," Venom grunts, not a threat but an observation, "I kill lots of people."

Your face pinches down into a grimace but the waver in your voice isn't from the imagery, "Venom, no, don't- don't say that! I don't want to know."

His viscous appendages, more tentacle than hand, edge deeper into your hole, filling in every inch of space and unconstrained by defined mortal flesh. A web of the black goopy substance holds you against an empty wall in Eddie's apartment, pinning your back to the brick and scraping your skin.

"But you liked hearing me tell you," The symbiote practically purrs, his voice gravelly and miles away from the safety of human baritone, "Your hole got tighter around me when I said it."

"No, it- I don't like- no!" You gush, unable to defend yourself but desperate to save face, "That's not true."

"It is," Venom presses, another stray tendril suctioning to the curve of your ass and leaving burning skin in its wake, "I will do it again. I am stronger than you."

As a testament to his statement, he expands the web of black fluid that's holding you against the wall, forcing it around your neck like a snug sleeve. He's right; you can't move. Of course you'd known it since the first time you laid eyes on the alien, but the effortless proof he offers you has your hole fluttering around his tendril once more.

"I could smother you," Venom continues, and you feel a distinct throb between your legs, his makeshift dick only seeping further into you, "I could flood your lungs and drown you," He threatens, the slime crawling up around your chin and mouth, hovering teasingly over your nose as you frantically gasp through it, "I could squeeze you until each of your bones break and you are helpless."

You do more than clench around him. The acrid stab of fear in your chest couples with the rising swell of bliss below it, and you wriggle your hips pathetically in his strong grip as you ride out your orgasm on his tentacle.

"I was right," Venom concludes, far from human niceties, though he still suspends you against the wall as your limbs sag with exhaustion, "You want me to kill you."

"No, Venom," You swear, though you don't have the energy to be as alarmed as you should be, "I- I don't want you to kill me. It's just- sometimes I think it's hot to remember that you could."

Milky white eyes blink at you, once, twice, and Venom decides, "I do not understand humans."

But you're saved the effort of explaining yourself when he draws his tendril out of your sensitive hole, letting his obscenely long tongue draw your wetness into his mouth, "But if you think it is hot, I will not let you forget that I could crush you."

being already so pent up and frustrated, that when you go to your girl, all she ever does is ties you up and makes you even more frustrated when she cups your sex and you can’t help but tremble in your spot so needily, your crotch already growing so damp in your pants that you don’t know how much you can hold on.

then once she lets you free you’re quick to pounce on her and rid her of her clothes, too excited enough to even resist you at that point and she lets you fuck her till she’s seeing stars.

May we interest you in some drabble of how the 3 Seasons boys each hold your hand? 👉👈

Written for warmups as vanade jumps back into outlining Briar's route! Text versions included as image descriptions on each picture, and included below the cut.

Holding your hand: Yuto Edition

Yuto reaches for your hand with hesitance—even now that you're together—as if he's afraid to let himself touch you... Afraid his cool skin might make you flinch away instinctively. He knows you don't mind, but it's a tough habit to break. You find it cute though, how his pinky finger interlocks with yours in quiet silence, wordlessly seeking your consent. You don't need to look at him to know his gaze is averted, the tips of his ears flushed a soft pink, peaking out from his long white hair. You slip your hand into his, intertwining your fingers with a gentle squeeze. He returns your gesture with a firmer grip, the way you'd hold on to something precious you dare not lose.

Holding your hand: Sol Edition

Sol's hand finds yours with such natural confidence. His palm is rough from constant time spent outdoors, and his lightly calloused thumb runs over the back of your hand unconsciously even as he chatters at you about something irrelevant. He tugs you along like an excited kid, his grip sometimes loosening in his excitement to show you things. Every now and then though, something he sees or says will remind him of you—you catch the glint of affection in his eyes as he squeezes your hand, a silent gesture of gratitude that you're with him.

Holding your hand: Rye Edition

Rye's fingers intertwine with yours slowly, assuredly. He enjoys this act and display of intimacy: the symbolism of your bond through physical touch. He doesn't hesitate in the slightest... if anything, his slow and deliberate gesture loudly signals his confidence and his love of romantic actions. It's his own way of communicating to you the thrill and happiness that being in love with you has given him… the ability to shower affection on his own special someone.

All my love to the other g/t weirdos like me 🫡😂❤️❤️❤️

And self plug - follow me on tiktok ✨

@ marydublin_author

"Let's be alone togther."