#/font : it was a suggestion not a request

[nateezfics]

hi love! may i request how ot8 would react to your skirt being a little cheeky at the amusement park?

love your work and hope you're doing well 🩷🩷

❝ wearing a short skirt on your amusement park date ❞

: ̗̀➛ ateez’s reaction to you wearing a short skirt on your amusement park date. 2.3k words.

: ̗̀➛ ateez; boyfriend!ateez. established relationship. fluff. smut (suggestive).

: ̗̀➛ warnings: minors do not interact! suggestive sexual content. mentions of sexual themes. possessiveness. public displays of affection/arousal. tbh there’s nothing explicit so there’s really nothing to warn about lol. strong language. fem bodied!reader. intentional lower case and small font.

hongjoong

god, you tested his patience. you really knew how to flirt your pretty little fingers around all his buttons, never fully pressing them but being so dangerously close to doing so. always just enough to make him tense and the prominent vein on his neck to pop a little.

hongjoong was in the queue right behind you as you stepped onto the ride. your absurdly short skirt fluttered as you did so, and from his position he was able to see the little pink panties you wore underneath...and so was everyone else, including the ride attendant who gawked at you like a deer in headlights. you plopped down into the cramped seat, blissfully unaware — or you just didn’t seem to care — while hongjoong had to mentally count to ten to keep himself from turning on that guy for even daring to look at you. though, he supposed it wasn’t all his fault; you were the one who decided to wear a fucking mini skirt to an amusement park.

“you know,” hongjoong began, settling himself next to you on the ride. “i really question your reasoning for wearing that.” He tugged at your skirt just as you both brought the bar over your laps. your thighs looked so pretty all exposed, mental images of your panty clad ass flashing in his mind, and hongjoong really wished that dumb ride attendant would stop throwing glances your way.

you smiled which only served to aggravate him more. “it’s such a cute skirt and i haven’t worn it yet! plus, it’s so hot outside today,” you reasoned with him while you watched others pile onto the ride. hongjoong scoffed.

“you sure you didn’t just wear it to drive me crazy?” he gripped your thigh tight, his fingers just under the hem of your skirt. “you think you’re so cute, huh? but let’s see how cute you are once i get you home.”

the ride jerked to life and began to move, his grip remaining firm. you smiled internally. your little plan worked, just like you knew it would.

seonghwa

seonghwa loved being close to you. he did, really. but it was so hot out today, and within the concretes and metals and crowds of the amusement park, it was scorching. your body was sweaty against his own. as much as he loved being near you, it was too hot for it. but you decided to wear one of the shortest skirts you owned today of all days, and he stuck close behind you to keep you from flashing anyone.

“hwa,” you whined as you both waited in line for the next ride. the sun was beaming down on you. you shuffled in place uncomfortably. “can you like, give me some space here? it’s hot as balls out here.”

seonghwa didn’t move an inch. he stayed in place, his taller form close behind you. you both probably looked ridiculous to everyone around you; they were all probably thinking you were that kind of couple. “sorry, can’t do that. not when you’re on the verge of flashing everyone in this damn park. what made you think wearing a mini skirt to an amusement park was a good idea?”

you huffed. “i don’t know. i just wanted to!” you tried to step forward, but two hands kept you firmly in place. “hwa, it’s really not that bad.”

“baby, one gust of wind and everyone can see your ass. and personally, i’m not too keen on everyone getting a view of you like that.” the queue moved, and you both shuffled a few steps forward.

“i’m wearing underwear —”

“god,” seonghwa groaned, his hands tightening on your hips. he was even closer now than before, his front pressed flat against your back. he dipped his head to whisper in your ear. “either you deal with me like this, or i’m taking you home and ripping this skirt off you. understand?”

you nodded slowly, a little taken aback by his words. that second option didn’t seem like that bad of a choice….

yunho

yunho wasn’t keen of your skirt at the beginning of your date, and he certainly wasn’t fond of it now as he watched you throw your leg over the carousel horse. your skirt was so short, and as you straddled the horse it did little to cover your ass. he took a second to appreciate the sight of your panties peeking under what your skirt couldn’t quite cover, but then he noticed the people behind you were also appreciating the view.

“you’re going to be the death of me,” yunho whispered to himself as he got on the horse behind you, much to your confusion.

“there’s a free horse right here,” you said, pointing to the horse next to you where he should have been. you looked at him over your shoulder, and you caught the dip of his gaze.

“i’ll sit here. this spot’s got a…good view.” his gaze lingered on your ass for a moment as he hoped his larger frame could block you from the sight of those behind him. he groaned inwardly when you wiggled your ass; his dick twitched and fuck it this was not the time or place for this.

you giggled when you realized, unbothered that you’d flashed more than just your boyfriend. you noticed the bob of his adam’s apple before you turned to the front again. even as the carousel began to spin, you felt his eyes remain on your backside.

yunho was thankful when the carousel stopped and the two of you were off, but his pants felt a little more snug than they had before the ride. he grabbed your smaller hand and lead you towards the park exit, not giving you any other choice but to follow him.

“yunho, where are we going?”

he didn’t even look back. “home so i can get you out of that fucking skirt.”

yeosang

yeosang was not one to say much about your outfit choices, even during times like this when you were skipping around the amusement park in what appeared to be the shortest skirt he’d ever seen you wear. he was walking behind you, struggling in silence, eyes glued to your backside even though he tried so hard not to stare.

you whirled around with a beaming smile. “yeosang, let’s go ride the ferris wheel!” your skirt twirled when you turned to face him; you undoubtedly just flashed everyone around you. yeosang was really going through it.

“uh, okay, baby. let’s go ride it.” yeosang was thankful the ferris wheel carts were enclosed. the last thing he wanted was you hoisted in the air for the whole park to see under your skirt. but inside the cart, you really must have wanted him to suffer when you plopped yourself right on his lap.

“fuck, baby, what are you trying to do to me?” his low voice was raspy, a groan slipping out when you shifted in his lap to make yourself more comfy. he felt himself starting to get stiff, and getting a hard on on a ferris wheel was not ideal.

you faced him and smiled; you looked so innocent, but there was a mischievous gleam in your eyes that he couldn’t miss. “i’m not doing anything, yeo.”

yeosang let out a sound that was a combination of a scoff, groan, and laugh. “bull shit.” his palms were grazing your thighs and traveling upwards, fingers dipping under your skirt. he swallowed hard when you gasped, the sound going straight to his dick. “god, i can’t believe you. i hope you’re planning on helping me out here, right?”

san

“and we have a winner!” the amusement park employee handed san the prize he’d won, a large plushie just about the size of his whole upper body. san was quick to hand it to you, laughing at the way you struggled to hold it.

in your excitement, you twirled around, your newly won plushie squished in your arms. but your skirt, a bit too short, flew up and gave a quick flash of the pink panties that lied underneath. “san, i love it! what should i name it?”

san laughed nervously, quickly drawing to your side and smoothing his hands over your hips to keep your skirt down. “i’m glad you love it, but baby,” he practically whined at you. “you can’t be out here twirling like that. you wanna flash the whole park?”

you giggled, snuggling your plushie tighter. “sorry, sannie.”

san smiled and kissed the top of your head. “silly little baby in your tiny skirts. i think you’re trying to mess with me.” his hands stayed on your hips while he fought the temptation to reach down and grope your ass.

“maybe a little,” you admitted with another giggle. “but i knew you’d like it, so that’s why i wore it.” you felt excitement bubble in your belly when you saw the way his gaze darkened a little.

“oh, i do like it,” san agreed. “but i think everyone else here does, too. and i can’t have others looking at you like this. so, how about i get you home, yeah?”

mingi

mingi had lost count of how many times he’d seen your ass so far today. not that he could complain about that, but he was certainly confused as to why you decided to wear a mini skirt to an amusement park. “baby, you keep messing with your skirt, but it’s not gonna get any longer.”

you huffed at him while you pulled at your skirt. you were regretting your decision making skills currently. was the outfit cute? yes. was it practical for the occasion? no. but you didn’t want to admit defeat; your boyfriend would be way too smug. “it’s fine, just needed a little fixing.”

he watched you very obviously grow frustrated with your short skirt, and a smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. “oh yeah? I bet you won’t last much longer until you’re begging me to give you my jacket to cover up.”

you put your hands on your hips. “i bet i’ll be just fine.”

mingi chuckled as he closed in on you. “fine. but if i win, that skirt’s coming off as soon as we get in the car.”

your heart leaped in your chest at the meaning of his words. even though it was enticing, you still didn’t want to admit that you were dumb for wearing this skirt. so you tried not to fiddle with it for the rest of the day, tried to act unbothered that you were giving everyone in the park a free view of your undies. but you eventually had enough, and soon you had your boyfriend’s denim jacket wrapped around your hips, a signal of your defeat.

mingi brought his lips to your ear when you both got in the car later, his hand traveling up your thigh. “skirt off, baby.”

wooyoung

“woo, get some pictures of me in front of the ferris wheel!” you handed your phone to your boyfriend and ran to get in front of the ferris wheel.

wooyoung knelt down to get the best angles, but as he snapped photo after photo, all he could focus on was how short your skirt was. and every time you changed to a different pose your panties flashed as your skirt moved. “well, if you’re goal is to show off your panties in every single picture, i’d say you succeeded.”

you frowned and rushed to take your phone from him. you swiped through the pics and he was right, your panties could be seen in every shot. you sighed. “well, it’s because of the angle. you were crouched down the whole time. it’s like you wanted to get shots up my skirt, you perv!”

wooyoung laughed. “it’s not me! it’s that little mini skirt of yours. maybe you should have worn something a little more appropriate for the occasion.” he laughed some more when you playfully swatted at his arm.

you couldn’t help the way your cheeks grew warm. you gave him your phone again and walked back towards the ferris wheel. “okay, get some more pics. but this time, no pervy up the skirt shots, alright?”

“you look too fucking good in that skirt. can’t make any promises, baby.” wooyoung gave you a wink before snapping some more photos.

jongho

jongho was judging you. hard. and not because you were in a short skirt, but rather because you looked way too damn good in it. and you were in an amusement park, one of the last places to be wearing something so short. other men were staring, thinking they were being sneaky with their glances, but he caught them. it was making him feel a little aggravated; not with you, but with the way he needed to have you but couldn’t because you weren’t at home.

you walked hand in hand with your boyfriend as you searched for the next thing to ride. “we haven’t done the carousel yet. wanna go ride that?”

there was a mental image of you straddling one of the carousel horses and jongho tensed. “you sure that’s such a good idea?”

you looked at him in confusion. “why wouldn’t it be?”

“well…” jongho peered down at your skirt, and you got the hint.

you smirked. “oh. does it bother you?”

he cleared his throat. “it does,” he admitted. “but in a ‘you’re driving me insane and i have the sudden urge to take you home’ kind of way.” his grip on your hand tightened.

you giggled as you looked at him. he looked tense, and it was so obvious how affected he was. all because of your skirt. “we ride this ferris wheel then go home. deal?”

jongho groaned. “deal.”

notes from nat: this request is so perfect for the summer time. thanks for sending it in, anon! hope you enjoyed!!

taglist: @abiaswreck @charreddonuts @hongthoven @httpseungmxn @itza-meee @jungkookieprincess @jaerisdiction @lilie-dctl @mjyungi @marievllr-abg @maltesejjong @mylovelymito @nebulousbookshelf @northerngalxy @silverpixiedust23 @staytinyinmybpack @svintsandghosts @thesafecafe @wolfgurl2600-blog @5starduca @yyaurii

networks: @kflixnet @wonderlandnet

© nateezfics. do not plagiarize. do not repost. do not translate.

[vivwritesfics]

LOOOOVE YOUR FICS

Just got this inspo for a fic I'm to lazy to write so next best thing is requesting

Daniel getting his kids names tattooed 🥹

Thank you 💗

I'm so sorry this is short, my mind is with my Harry potter au atm

Picking out the actual design was the longest part of the process. Daniel wanted it to be special, something for each of them. The lettering had to be perfect, a reflection of them.

Every time his artist suggested something, Daniel had to make a small change. It was a never ending process of small changes. At first, the kids names were together, a line running through them, connecting them

But Daniel changed it. He took out the line, changed the font and such. And then he made it so, if they were to have a third child, they could incorporate the name somehow.

After the design was picked, it was the placement. Daniel wanted it to be visible, he wanted everybody to ask about it.

When he joked about putting them on his neck, his wife could have killed him. "Don't you even think about it," she said, giving him a glare. She didn't care that it was a joke. He was not allowed to get a neck tattoo.

She actually picked the placement, a spot on his right arm that was unmarked. Her fingers traced over the skin and, suddenly, she couldn't wait to see her babies names there.

Lea and Tom had no idea what their dad was doing. They had coloured in his tattoos before, pushing each other out of the way to run their colourful markers over their dad's skin.

Daniel had gotten tattoos before, sure. But he still didn't like to go alone. The kids were dropped at their grandmother's house and Daniel and his wife made their way to the tattoo shop.

They were a little early, and there was a long wait while the tattoo artist set up.

At last, she called Daniel over to her station. She sat him down, placed the stencil on his arm and then had it checked in the mirror. It was moved around a couple of times before the place was just right.

And then the tattooing began. Daniels wife held his hand and the artist kept him talking, making conversation as she tattooed. She asked about Tom and Lea and Daniel confessed that he hoped there would be another name added soon.

It didn't take very long to get the names tattooed. Before they knew it, she was wrapping up his arm and sending him on his way.

He finally had his babies named tattooed on his arm

[bxnfire]

Silver Tongue || Satoru Gojo

✎ synopsis: after losing a bet to geto, gojo has to go get a piercing of geto’s choice, but this was far from a punishment; you were his piercer, and one thing sure leads to another when dealing with someone with a silver tongue like gojo

✎ content/warnings: piercer!reader x gojo, smut, fluff, oral (f. receiving), semi-public, unprotected sex, p in v, fingering, masturabation, needles (?), pet names, dirty talk, mutual pining, flirting

✎ a/n: bra i saw this random mf on tiktok with a tongue piercing and decided my beautiful man should have one as well. enjoy <3!

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ˏ ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ˏMINORS DNI ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ˏ ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ˏ

Geto and Gojo have been friends for a really long time. Their dynamic is a chaotic one, but it works for them just fine. It is not uncommon for the 2 to go out a lot, but what is uncommon is Gojo losing bets. Gojo was cocky, yeah, but he had a reason to be; he was the kind of guy to be good at what he tried his hand at no matter what, often leaving Geto amused by trying to figure out what it was he couldn’t do.

Turns out, Gojo’s biggest enemy was his very own ego. After a long day of doing random physical activities, Geto challenged Gojo to a simple race. Of course, Gojo was fatigued but he let his ego take the best of him, and thus accepted Geto’s challenge.

“But,” Geto added, “if I win, you’re getting a piercing. Of my choice.”

“So then if I win, you’re getting my initials tattooed on your arm,” Gojo said cheekily, trying to think of the stupidest font to request at the tattoo shop.

“You’re so on,” Geto replied. And with that, they had a race. But much to Gojo’s dismay and Geto’s amusement (or rather, amazement?), the former lost.

That is how the pair found themselves at 1 a.m. at the door of the tattoo shop you worked at. You were a great tattoo artist and piercer, but since you were still in college you were often given later shifts, which allowed you to meet interesting characters, this duo being one of them.

You were sitting at the counter working on some new designs when you heard the door open, and once you looked up you made eye contact with the deepest cerulean eyes you had ever seen. Unaware that you were starring, you got startled once the man next to him spoke to you.

“Hey there Y/n, nice to meet ya,” said the black-haired male, looking at your name tag, startling partly because you were in a trance watching the white-haired guy next to him, and partly because his voice was oddly… sultry.

“Hi, whatcha thinking of getting today?” You ask him, eyeing his piercings.

“Well the thing is we’re not here for me today, though I may come back; we’re here for him,” he smiled, gesturing towards the guy that had you in a trance.

“Yeah…. I’m getting a piercing today,” he said, looking deep into your eyes.

You swallow before replying. “So then, what piercing would you like?”

“What’s popular with girls these days?” He says smirking.

The black-haired guy laughs, slapping him in the back. “You’re so dumb,” he manages to get out between laughs.

“Well,” you paused, genuinely trying to answer his question, “I’ve seen a lot of girls go crazy for some eyebrow and nose piercings. You could also get traditional earrings of course, they’re always good starter piercing.”

“I don’t know if I want it to be so apparent though… but I like the eyebrow piercing suggesting,” he responds, deep in thought.

“Not too quick Satoru, remember our bet: I get to choose your piercing,” he cuts quick, looking at Satoru.

“Oh… Bring it on then, I could rock anything,” he laughed, his pride shining through.

“You’re so damn cocky, I’d like to shut you up… actually, yes, I’ll shut you up,” he then turns to you, “he’ll be getting a tongue piercing tonight,” he says, decidedly.

“I hope you’re not a foodie then,” you say amused, catching on the dynamic between the two.

“Suguru,” he cries, “you KNOW this won’t end well.”

“Well that’s part of the point isn’t it?” He smiles softly, his angelic tone just making it funnier.

“Well, I’ll start setting up my station,” you say, looking through a couple of drawers until you find tongue jewelry. “While I set up, pick one of these, I recommend the first 3 at the top, they’re nicer while you’re healing.”

As soon as you leave, Satoru starts looking through the selection of piercings. Pills, dice, even a marijuana leaf, and he giggles, but in the end, he does take up on your recommendation and chooses a simple, silver stud.

“I can’t wait to hear you speak after this,” Geto says.

“Oh shut up,” he replies.

“Ready! Please come over here,” you shout from your station, putting your gloves on.

“Coming!” Said Satoru, and as he started walking Geto followed.

As he sits down on the chair, he shows you the piercing he chose.

“I see you took on my recommendation,” you say looking at him and smiling, and Satoru felt his heart flutter.

“Y-Yeah, I did,” he replied, trying to hide how flustered he was.

“You nervous?” You ask, catching on to his stutters.

“You could say that,” he laughs, happy he could cover it up so easily.

And sure, maybe to you he could, but not to Geto. He quickly caught on the fact that Gojo was flustered because of you. Having known the guy for years, he knew how he reacted to injuries, danger, and even needles, and he never gets flustered, no. He’s also seen him around girls he finds attractive, and while Satoru is able to talk to them, he does get flustered at first. How adorable.

“Yeah, he’s scared alright,” Geto says, teasing Satoru.

“Don’t worry! Tongue piercings aren’t typically the most hurtful ones. Of course, it varies from person to person, but having pierced and heard from several people about them, they’re not terrible,” you say reassuringly.

What an angel, Satoru thinks. Though he’d never admit it to Suguru, he was starting to be glad he got him in this predicament. You were so cute, so sweet trying to make him feel better, and he couldn’t help but notice the piercings and tattoos that adorned your beautiful body. He wondered if there were other masterpieces hidden under your clothes.

Trying not to pry on it too much, he watched you get a marker and come close to him, so close he could smell your sweet scent. Shit, maybe looking at you could be my anesthesia, he thought.

“Alright then! Please take out your tongue, I need to mark the spot where I’ll pierce,” you say.

“Well then,” he says, taking his tongue out. Getting a funny feeling as you mark his skin, he tries not to giggle in fear it’d mess up your work.

You pull away and then put a mirror so he can look at his face. “Do you like how it looks there? Or would you want it someplace else?”

“That looks perfect, let’s do it,” he says.

“Great! Then sit while I get my stuff,” you say.

“What’s your name again?” You ask.

“You can call me Gojo,” he replies.

“Ok Gojo, Take a deep breath in,” you say, and as he does so, you put the needle through his tongue, “then breathe out,” once again, he obediently breathes out, relieved in the little pain he actually felt. This is when you actually put the jewelry in.

“Now I’m just securing the stud. And there ya go, take a look,” you say, bringing the mirror back.

“Wow,” he says, surprised at how much he actually liked the piercing.

“There’s some fun piercings you can put in once it heals, but make sure you’re taking care of it correctly,” you say, and then begin to explain the care process for the piercing.

As you 3 move back out to the checkout counter, you recommend some products to Gojo for whatever he may need. You also say he’s welcome to come back if he feels uncomfortable in any way.

“Or if you’re a busy man, here’s my phone number,” you say boldly, hoping it’s not obvious how attracted you were to him, “let me know if you have any questions as it heals!”

“Thank you Y/n, I’ll let you know if anything happens,” he smiles as he takes the paper with your number, automatically taking out his phone and putting the contact in.

“Alright then, ready to survive off ice cream for a while?” Geto asks.

“Sounds like a sweet deal,” Gojo replies smiling.

“Pleasure to meet you,” you say as they walk out.

“The pleasure was mine sweetheart,” Gojo replies, finding the courage from his new piercing, and luckily for you he turns around, because you’re left as red as a tomato.

As him and Geto walk out, you wonder whether he’ll text you with more than just questions about the piercing. Sheepishly, you go back to your station and clean it up, relishing on the faint smell of Gojo’s cologne that stayed behind.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ˏ ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ˏ ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ˏ ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ˏ ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ˏ

While you’re sitting on the train on the home, you get a text from an unknown number:

💬 Unknown: so what did you say helped with swelling again?

💬 Unknown: it’s gojo btw 👅

You smile. As you type up your recommendations and add him to your contacts, admittedly wanting to see him again. So then, conveniently of course, you ask for a contact picture.

💬 You: mind sending me a contact pic?

💬 Gojo 👅: [IMG]

The picture was of him taking his tongue out playfully, showing off the jewelry you had just given him. His cerulean eyes peeked through his round sunglasses, and with that you got flustered yet again, which was ridiculous: to think you had pierced nipples, tattooed in places where sunlight doesn’t quite reach, and you’re flustered over a normal selfie?

💬 Gojo 👅: you did me justice

💬 You: i think any piercing would’ve worked just fine 👀

And on the other side of the screen, it was now Gojo who was flustered at your words. Unknowingly, for the same reason as you, he asked for a contact picture. Bringing out your holder side, you take a selfie from an angle that shows many of your attributes, and Gojo isn’t immune to your charm. As he updates your contact, he can feel the blood rushing to his cheeks… and his dick.

He quickly realizes it was going to be a restless night, or rather, morning? The clock marked 3 o’clock, and whilst the world outside his room was silent, it was easy to fantasize of what it’d be like to have you there with him.

Squeezing his tip through his underwear, he thinks back to your pretty face, so focused and so close to his as you pierced his tongue. He wonders what it’d look like covered in his cum: would you lick it up? Would you clean it with your fingers? Would you make him clean it up for you?

The more he thinks of you, the hornier he gets. Taking his hardened cock out from his underwear, he starts thinking of what he’d do to you. Oh, what he wouldn’t give to see your body before him right now. Is there any piercings he didn’t catch on you having? Tattoos? Would you like him to kiss those on you? Maybe even lick them? You would probably taste so sweet, yeah, as sweet as you smell or as sweet as you sound.

At this point, he’s fisting himself quickly, massaging his balls every now and then, soon to reach his release. He remembers your sweet voice saying his surname, your laugh as you watched him and Suguru’s banter, and your beautiful eyes looking at him. With that, he came all over his hand, deciding he had to see you soon.

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As the days passed, you and Gojo texted more and more. Your conversations always started with a silly question about the piercing from him, and from then on it would range from your favorite subjects to trips you have made and your favorite foods. You found yourself crushing hard on Gojo, taking little notes of the things he liked and wanted to do, and trying to gather up the courage to ask him to hangout.

Lucky for you, he had been feeling the same, except he was bolder than you, and thus, he asked first.

💬 Gojo 👅: y/nnnnn

💬 Gojo 👅: you free tonight??

💬 Gojo 👅: there’s this place i wanted to check out near your job, so maybe before you start your shift we could go?

You were ecstatic. Quickly confirming that you were down, you get dressed and head out for the door. Reaching your meet-up spot, you anxiously wait for Gojo. To calm your nerves down, you scroll through TikTok and find yourself laughing at the stupidest videos. Not noticing a tall presence behind you, Gojo decides to surprise you, crouching down to your level to whisper in your ear.

“What’s so funny, doll?” He asks, completely scaring you.

“Gojo! Dont sneak up on me like that again,” you say, relieved that it’s him and not a weirdo, and he laughs at your scared state.

“But where’s the fun in that?” He asks cheekily, and then he begins walking to the place he wanted to go.

You two chitchat nonstop on the way there. You had nurtured a sweet friendship in the little time you guys had known each other. You really appreciated how funny Gojo was, telling you things that made you wonder just how his mind worked. There truly was never a dull moment between the two of you. The more you knew him, the more into him you became. Sometimes you could feel the tension between the two of you, walking together while your hands brushed against each other, him asking you to check on his piercing often and you having to get so close to his handsome face, and other things like that which gave your stomach butterflies.

After eating at that new restaurant, you suddenly remembered that Gojo’s piercing was now fully healed, and knowing his spontaneous nature, you suggested that he get it changed, just to switch it up a bit.

“Really? What would you suggest, you’re the professional after all,” he says while smiling at you.

“Well, we could go back to the shop and I could show you a couple of cool ones, we got a new batch this week,” you replied, thinking already of which he would like.

“Sounds like a plan,” he says, and after that you two head into the store.

It wasn’t open on Mondays, but given that your manager really trusted you, you had a copy of the keys to the store. Rushing into the shop before other people noticed, you and Gojo get settled in the quiet store. As he waits there looking around the things you had on display, you look for the drawer with tongue jewelry once again, reminding you of the night you met. Smiling softly to yourself, you pull a drawer out and bring it on the counter, the noise of you setting it down catching Gojo’s attention.

He steps closer to it and starts looking through the collection you have. Giggling once he reached the marijuana one again, he asks for the one you like most.

“Well, if I’m being honest the one you have right now is one of my favorite, you can never go wrong with a traditional silver stud. Now, I remember you wanted something to impress girls yeah?” You ask jokingly, and he blushes a little at the fact that you remembered him telling you that when you met.

“In that case, then you should definitely check this one out,” you say as you point to one that looked sort of like a hammer.

“What’s special about that one? It kind of looks like the pill one you got over there,” he asks curiously.

“While this one may look like just a little “pill” to you, it is a vibrator piercing,” you say a little flustered, realizing how intimate it was after you said it out loud.

“Oh,” he says, now looking intently at you.

“Yeah, I don’t really know if you’re an eater or anything,” you joke, trying to bring up the mood, but you notice it only made the atmosphere grow thicker, so you continue, “but this one can really take things up a notch when you’re down there hehe.”

“I’d like to say my head game is strong,” he says suggestively, “but I sure would like to see how this would make things better.”

“I could change it for you if you’d like! Or I could walk you through the process so you know what to do in the future whenever you wanna change it yourself, but trust me when I say, any girl you’re with will be very lucky,” you say boldly, hoping he realizes the piercing is not what they’d be lucky about.

“I think I’ll let you do it this time doll, I wouldn’t want to mess it up,” he says, knowing he’d be too distracted thinking of what he’d like to do to you with this very piercing if you would so desire.

“Well then,” you say, growing flustered as you get near your station, feeling him come close behind. You set him down, and ask him to open his mouth, something that feels oddly intimate considering the fact that you’re alone with him, with no one walking in, and he’s opening his mouth with your face so close to his, to make matters worse, his enticing eyes looking right at you.

You get to work in changing the jewelry as you explain to him how it works. “So, to turn it on, you need to tighten up the little ball at the bottom,” you say as you demonstrate, and then he gets a funny feeling on his tongue as he feels the metal vibrate through.

“And turn it off?” He asks, trying his best not to laugh.

“For that just unscrew it a little,” you demonstrate yet again, and he feels the vibrations coming to a stop.

Feeling the tension between you two, he decides to take it up a notch and test the waters. “I’d love to try it to its full extent,” he says, knowing that the conversation would go back to a more explicit topic.

“I’m telling you, your girl will be satisfied,” you reply, trying not to pry too much on it in fear he’ll see how badly you wanted him to try it on you.

“Well, I don’t really have a girl right now,” he says, not missing the relief and happiness that comes to your face right as he says it, “but there is someone I’d like to try it on.”

“And who might that be?” You ask, almost breathless.

“Take a guess,” he says, not giving you a chance to respond as he’s bringing your face to his and kissing you right on the spot.

After the initial shock of Gojo’s actions and the fact that your very own crush is kissing you, you let your impulse take over as you put your hand on his neck and bring him closer. You lick his lower lip asking for permission to go in, something that he eagerly grants, and your tongues find a rhythm that leaves you both breathless, your cunt feeling something whenever your tongue graced his piercing.

“So, were you able to figure it out?” He asks cheekily, still blushing from the fact that you kissed back and lord, were you a good fucking kisser.

“No, I don’t think you were very clear,” you reply, the fact that you matched his energy doing things to Gojo.

You pull him in this time, but he took his initiative somewhere else. He sat you on his lap and started caressing your sides, not daring to touch your bare skin no matter how much he wanted to, he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.

On the other hand, it was getting harder and harder for you to play it cool in front of him. Feeling his big, veiny hands run all over you was making you ache for so much more. Not daring to say a word, you put your hands over his and guide them where you want them to be. You take one of them under your shirt all the way to your boobs, and in doing so you feel him moan into your kiss. Growing more confident at his reaction, you take the other one down to your ass, letting him squeeze to his desire.

He understands what you need want him to do and he starts gently fondling your boobs, switching back and forth between the two, as his other hand guided your movements to grind on his hardened dick.

You start moaning into his lips, and he abandons your lips to go on a trip down your face to your ears and your neck with his own. Finding a spot that seemed to have the greatest reaction out of you, he chooses to mark it for reference, just a little hickey to guide him later on, and one to let others now that you were his.

“This is your weak spot, isn’t it?” He says, relishing on the way you quiver at the feel of his breath on your skin.

“T-That’s one of ‘em,” you respond, giving in to your lust entirely, “but can ya find the o-others?” You ask, wanting to see how far he’ll go.

“Such a dirty doll,” he says, feeling his dick throb at your words, “of course I can find the others, I know you’ll guide me to them.”

Breaking away from you to take your shirt off, you shiver as you feel the cold hit your skin. Your nipples hardened and it was apparent through your bra, which made Gojo hungry for more of you. Taking it off as he plants a sweet kiss on your lips, he licks his way down until he reaches your nipples, and starts licking them and then blowing to keep them hard, something that had you grinding harder and harder on his boner.

“Can I try my piercing on you doll? Please? I need to know how you taste,” he says, drunk on your body, “I’m craving the sweetest treat of all.”

As he says that, his hands find his way to your underwear, and over them he plays with your wet pussy. Circling around your cunt as you whine for more, he takes your pants and panties off, letting him take a look at your naked body.

Admiring it like a master piece, Gojo stood what he’s doing altogether just to get a good look at you, wondering how concerning it’d be if he got this tattooed sometime. You squirm under his stare, and yet, you don’t feel the impulse to cover up or turn any of the lights off, if anything, you wanted him to look at you like you’re the last meal he’s about to eat.

And a feast is exactly what he had. Not even 2 minutes after admiring you like a goddess, he tightened the piercing and started flat-tongued to lick up and down your pussy. Moans quickly filled the room, the wet sensation of his tongue combined with the vibrations all over your pussy quickly overstimulating you. He puts his fingers in your mouth as his tongue finds its way to your clit. Lapping at it with the vibrating piece on his tongue sent shocks through you, making you buck your hips into him desperate to feel more than just his tongue on you. Retrieving the fingers you licked from your mouth, he put one finger inside of you, surprised at how easily it slipped into you.

“You’re so fucking warm and wet,” he says as he feels you on his finger, dick throbbing just thinking of how good it’d feel like once it wasn’t just his fingers inside of you.

Fingering you as he kept his tongue pressed to your clit, your eyes rolled back in pure pleasure, your moans now louder than they were before, sounding even more lewd combined with the sound of your wet pussy taking in Gojo’s fingers and his tongue slurping and keeping in contact with your clit.

With his free hand, he caressed your thigh gently, which seemed almost ironic giving how relentlessly he was pumping his fingers into you, how mercilessly he was working his tongue to please your clit.

You couldn’t take it for much longer. You felt your climax building up in your stomach, and just before you could tell him, you were splashing your juices all over his hand and face, leaving him shocked for a moment.

Quickly realizing what had just happened, he happily licks your cunt clean before cleaning his own fingers up, happily realizing that you’re even sweeter he thought you’d be.

“Don’t think I’m done with you just yet,” he says, getting up to undress quickly as he was eager to fuck you.

Coming out of your post-orgasm bliss, you notice how veiny his long, thick shaft is. Feeling your cunt clench on nothing just waiting for him to come inside of you, a curious hand reached for his dick and gave it a few stokes, filling your fingers get precum on them. Hearing his breath hitch, you quicken the pace of your strokes. This activated that dirty mouth he had on him, making you think that he’s nothing but a silver tongue the way he effectively had you right at his mercy.

“F-Fuck doll, your h-hand feels s-so good,” he moans. “Y-You h-have no idea what y-you do to me.”

You keep going like this for a little bit, until he grabs your hand and kisses it while looking right at you.

“I would love to cum off your hands alone someday,” he says, “but today is not that day, I need to be in your sweet pussy doll, can I?” He asks, placing another kiss, this time in the inside of your wrist.

“Y-Yes please Gojo,” you whine.

“Say my name doll,” he says.

“Gojo,” you respond.

He positions himself right at your entrance. Slapping his dick in your pussy, he teases both you and himself while his pride toys with you until you call him by his name.

“Wrong,” he says, now slapping a bit quicker, the lewd sound of skin slapping combinted with your moans filling the room. “It’s Satoru,” he says, trying his damned best not to moan at the pleasure.

Seeing you lost in that same agonizing pleasure, he dives right into your pussy, touching your cervix in that first stroke, earning a yelp from you. Wanting to keep his little game going, he kept talking. “C’mon doll, it’s easy, it’s S-A-T-O-R-U,” he panted, a stroke for every letter as he spelled out his name.

“S-Satoru! I-It’s so big!” You said, struggling to adjust to his length with how recklessly he pounded into you right off the bat.

“You can take it doll I know you must have a high pain tolerance,” he said, focusing a little too much on the feeling of your warm, soaked pussy, which squeezed his cock so deliciously, he knew he wouldn’t last long.

You, on the other hand, were in a whole other world. Satoru quite literally was fucking you silly, being already stimulated on your orgasm from not too long ago, his big fucking dick just had reached the spot you struggled to reach even with your toys. Blabbering some nonsense amidst of saying his name like a broken record, you feel your orgasm building up once again, something that Satoru quickly catches on to from the way your pussy was gripping his dick.

“You’re so tight doll, you’re going to milk me dry,” he says in between pants, “fuck, can I cum inside?” He asks while looking right at you, doubting how effective he’d be trying to pull out right now, and in all honesty, he was so lost on how good you felt he wanted to paint your insides, leave his mark, make you his.

“Y-Yes!” You do your best to say, finding it hard to get the words out. It doesn’t take long from here for you both to finish, Gojo making a mess of your pussy as by the time he pulls out both of your juices and his and intermixed coming out of you. He fingers you once more, this time to help you take his cum out. He then carries you bridal style to the bathroom so you can pee, in the meantime finding some paper towels to clean himself up and a little bit of the mess you left behind.

When you came back, he carries you back to where you had just fucked, and lays you on top of him to cool off together after such steamy sex you had.

“So… did you like the outcome?” You ask giggly, breaking the ice.

“Fuck, if getting piercings means I’ll get to be with you more then so be it. I’m coming every week for a new one,” he says, genuinely thinking of what he could get next.

“No need, I’d make time for you even if you didn’t get any more piercings,” you say, blushing at your little confession, immediately putting your head on the crook of his neck out of embarrassment.

He pulls you back, forcing you to look at him. You’re blushing, hair messy, and eyes slightly glossy after the intense moment you just had, and you’d never looked more beautiful in his mind. Smiling like an idiot after just looking at you, he says “you’re truly just as sweet as you taste,” and with that, you blush even harder.

“So then, will you be my girlfriend?” He asks suddenly, leaving you dumbfounded.

“I know it’s a bit of a rush and maybe not as romantic as I would’ve liked for it to be,” he admits, “but I must confess that I’ve had a thing for you since we met, and I couldn’t live with myself if you weren’t mine after today.”

You’re blushing so hard right now, but also matching his love fool smile, happy that he liked you back. “Of course, Satoru, I’ll be yours, but only if you’ll promise you’ll be mine,” you say, snuggling up to him and looking deep into those beautiful eyes.

“Oh doll, I have been yours ever since you merely looked at me,” he says, then he kisses you gently, you can feel his love through this kiss, which unlike the others you just shared, this one was filled with pure love and admiration, and much like the other kisses he had given you today, these were addicting, immediately making you ache for more.

For the rest of the night, you guys just stayed there talking to each other about anything and everything. Making silly plans for the future, confessing the way you both had been pining for each other, and just laughing at how funny this all was, how crazy it was that it took you two less to have sex than to confess to each other, but, it was just as meaningful nonetheless.

Going back to your apartment, you two settled in your bed, ready to sleep after such intense night. There, basking in his warmth, you realized just how lucky and happy you were to have your job, because after all, if it weren’t for that you wouldn’t have met Satoru, the boy of your dreams, and next to you, Satoru was thinking just that, and even if he’d never admit it to Geto, he was so grateful to have lost that bet and swallow up his pride, because now, he had something truly worth boasting about: you. Who would’ve thought a piercing would change his life? Certainly, he wouldn’t have guessed it, but at the same time, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

[vampiretendencies]

request; jj blurb idea! wearing his clothes for the first time/him seeing you in his clothes for the first time. maybe showering at the chateau but you didn’t bring anything so he gives you a tshirt! hehe literally kicking my feet under the table rn

pairing; jj x fem!reader

warnings; fluff, maybe suggestive

authors note; i was doing the same when you sent this anon in love with this idea ! (req a blurb from below w what’s left on the prompt list, or send in blurb, imagines, & fic ideas) a few more hours until season 3!

other ways to say i love you prompt list

The opportunity to wear JJ’s clothes tainted your thoughts undoubtedly.

Not only because it belonged to him but because everything about JJ’s wardrobe, is so JJ.

No problem with repping any and everything that belonged to your infamous boyfriend. Wether it be wearing his pair of boxers as shorts, a wife beater to slumber in, or a random tee shirt to go out in broad day light.

You just longed for his material to be around your figure.

Congenial and adequate, soft yet comfortable— all elements of his clothes that are alike with JJ.

They are his clothes, after all.

“JJ let go of me!”

Stood smack in the the middle of JJ’s room at the chateau. His window partially open, wind bristling from the night air, making its way through. Whilst the hard wood floors beneath the two of you tracked the imprints of your feet. Bed rolled around in, from you forcing JJ off of you then— merely to let you get up and off of the bed to shower, that you did. Since you came out though, wearing little clothing, (given that there wasn't much of your own items lying around at the Chateau) he hasn't let you be.

He encapsulates you with his sinewy arms, body swallowing you whole. Whilst you forcefully push your hands against his broad, shirtless chest— the skin mellow and thick. Indentations of your miniature hands marking his skin, like your were a rag doll; screaming for dear life.

All JJ could muster was a low, raspy chuckle.

“Say you won’t leave.”

JJ wanted to make love to you all day long.

Not sex.

But emotionally.

To emotionally make love, to have and hold. A day full of luster, every millisecond spent around or with you. To confide in and maybe even shrink you and put you in his pocket.

A keepsake.

“You know I can’t, I don’t have another change of clothes.”

Behind every ‘can’t’ JJ miraculously finds a way, opportunity at hand to see you clad in something of his.

“Lets find you something of mine?”

JJ flicks his tongue, peering down at you due to the fact that he knows he’s won and you aren’t moving a muscle. His hands maneuver themselves to the lower part of your ass, hands habitually grasp the masses with a squeeze of his hands.

“Are you gonna’ give me something to wear then or what?”

You hid your secret giddiness inside, not wanting to be the one to initiate this sentiment— things seemingly working themselves out anyway.

“Actually, baby … just fuckin’ walk around naked … s’even better.”

He acknowledges the glint in your eye, possibly even a twitch that says, ‘get me some damn clothes before I wring your neck.’

“Okay okay, whatcha’ thinkin’ a little Heywards t-shirt action … Bait Shop shirt … ?”

He let go of you distastefully, instantly salivating for the contact again. Walking over to the wooden drawers of his dresser, pulling out multiple options— signaling you to come over and pick.

“Surprise me.”

And you turn around, facing the emptiness of his room, that wasn’t his room, but nonetheless. Rummaging was heard as he hummed and mumbled minuscule things to himself.

“Turn around, pretty girl.”

An off-black brownish t-shirt is thrown into your hands. A decor in the upper left side that read ‘Sex Wax Est 2005’, font circular and embellished with stars on either end.

“Your turn-“

He was already turning around, the gentlemen that he prided on being. You grinned at the cotton beneath your digits, bringing it up to your nose— though it had been washed, his powerful musk still retained it. The silky sensation of yeasty beer and a freshly rolled blunt encompassed your senses.

“Need more time?”

“Just a second, J.”

If only he knew your fixation was obsessive beforehand.

“I’ll just be here … y’know ... missin' my girl."

Feet away, physical touch being his love language fully had a choke hold on him per usual.

After you were done with your inspection you pulled the thin material of your cropped cami past your shoulders, bra clasped tight to your back. Leaving you to remove those lacey pocketed shorts that adorned your body; his shirt lazily pulled past your head, drowning you in its bigger size, falling just to your mid thigh.

The sole way to sleep with JJ disclosed.

You felt more his than you ever had in the past; claiming his array of bib and tucker with exuberance.

His baby suffocating in him.

You cleared your throat gesturing for him to turn around, his mouth gaping open as he's awe struck; open long enough that you were impressed something didn't fly in it.

"Shit you look better than me!"

Ogle eyes whilst his mouth formed a tight-lipped smile, stomach churning and insides wavering at the woman he chose to take part in his life with him.

It may be a shirt to most, but with his person inside of it made it all the more nostalgic, heart growing tender.

"C'mere gotta get a better look at you."

Following suit you step forward to him, lips instantly connecting with your jaw with pure infatuation.

"S'perfect baby."

"Yeah? Think I can pass as the new JJ Maybank?" In the same position the two of you were in minutes ago, except grins are wider and souls aching all the more for eachother; and you mocked him.

"Pass me a beer and a J."

[hoshinasblade]

Can I hear your thoughts on calling Soshiro the wrong name? Like when I first got into the kn8 fandom, I could never get Soshiro's name right. It's always "Seishiro" as in Nagi Seishiro from Blue Lock 💔. I wonder what his reaction would be to hear his partner calling him a diff guy's name 🤔

this ask has the potential to cause so much mayhem anon, thank you for sending through

pairing: hoshina soshiro x f!reader content warnings: none, just a bit suggestive at the end, established relationship this is super short, but hopefully you like it! my ask is open again for requests but be warned that replies will be delayed. it takes time for me to write, and if i dont immediately vibe with the prompt, that makes it harder for me. i will always reply though because there is not a lot of hoshina stuff around here and i value people's ideas. thank you guys for understanding!

being hoshina soshiro's girlfriend has a lot of perks.

first of all, you had never felt safer anywhere you go when he is accompanying you - it's not that you treat him as your personal body guard, but he cannot help to act like one, always on the lookout to protect you. more than everything, nothing beats knowing the simple fact that you are dating an ultra-handsome killing machine who treats you like a princess.

the thing is, being hoshina soshiro's girlfriend also has some downside.

the worst of all is because the vice-captain is famous, it cannot be helped that women and a few men are all over him, competing for a crumb of his attention.

your smile disappeared when you saw another video from the social media influencer you mentioned to hoshina last week. it was a short edited footage of the vice-captain's brief interview after the most recent kaiju attack - his hair wet from perspiration, his long fingers trying to brush his bangs away from his eyes. how hoshina can still look ravishing after killing kaijus is a mystery for you as well - no one should be allowed to be that hot, you thought. "hoshina, date me," the caption reads in an annoying cursive font. you were going to scroll away when you noticed your own boyfriend's personal account among the few thousands who liked the clip - the icon of his profile is at the top of the list. you closed the app, formulating a plan to exact a cruel vengeance against hoshina.

the chance came that same night when hoshina dropped by your apartment for dinner. the entire week is for saving the country, hoshina would tell you, but weekends are always dedicated to movie marathons and cuddling until one of you falls asleep.

"what's the theme for tonight? any preferences?" hoshina asked, pressing buttons in the remote control as he goes over the directory of tv series and chick flicks. "i'm thinking something scary."

"you know if you are looking for a reason to snuggle with me, you can literally just say that, soichiro." there was no change in your tone as you delivered the line, biting the insides of your cheek so you won't burst out laughing. keeping a straight face was not that difficult because hoshina seemed to ignore you.

"the conjuring, then." hoshina sat beside you in the couch after choosing a title, his right arm going around your waist as he leans into you.

you rested your head on his shoulder a bit and inhaled lightly the scent of his shirt. "you smell nice, soichiro."

hoshina's arm dropped faster than you would have expected, and when you glanced at him, you wondered if you had taken this game a bit too far.

"right, what did i do this time?" hoshina did not bothering the show playing in the television, the opening credits rolling in the screen.

"what do you mean?" your words were hurried because you feel you were going to explode in giggles. it is absolutely funny how the most skilled close-quarters combatant of the defense force can react so strongly to being called a different name.

"come on, you calling me by my brother's name is infuriating enough already. you doing it again is just hurting my feelings now. you're never mean without a reason. what is this about?" hoshina's face is earnest now and admittedly, you felt a tiny tinge of guilt.

you sighed. "i don't know, maybe your fans wouldn't be calling you the wrong name. you should date them instead." it came out of your mouth too bitter, but you could not take your statement back. trust has never been an issue between you and hoshina in the years you were together, but you don't suppose it is wholly your fault when you get affected by little things like this.

"if i wanted to, i would," hoshina answered calmly. "but obviously, i don't. because here i am, proposing we watch something scary so you could snuggle with me."

you chuckled and that finally eased the tension. "i'm sorry. i did not mean to ruin our night," you confessed. "i swear to pretend i'm scared of the ghost in the movie so i can cuddle closer to you."

hoshina's eyes carry a certain sparkle whenever he smiles. he leaned on you again then grabbing your hand, linked your fingers together.

"hey, you can always talk to me if something's bothering you, you know that, right? and i'll always try to do better by you," he said before kissing you.

you and your boyfriend never finished the movie but at least by the end of the night, hoshina had made sure you call him by no one else's name by making you moan his.

[multi-fandom-imagine]

Hi, I'm new to you're page and i wanted to put in a request for standford and Stanley Pines? I don't care if it's long or short but my request is simple. I also dident see any rules, and I'm probably being stupid and dident see them.

How would they each react when there, younger (S/O), is having her shark week? Like, she is extra moody, extra hungry, and very, very, very easy to piss off that if you did, even Bill will be scared of her.

Please don't take this request if it goes agjnst you're rules, makes you uncomfortable, or you font have time! Stay safe irl and any video games you play!

A/n: Please! Please! Never apologize. You didn't miss anything. I really don't have any rules and really this is one of the tamest requests I received. I've written plenty of requests about the reader being on their period so it's no trouble at all. And if anyone sends in a request I let them know. So please! Don't ever apologize.

Second I am so sorry this sucks, I have a massive headache

•Stanford Pines•

Knew it right away, the man has your schedule down to a T so he always has everything you need when your period hits. He does try his best to not piss you off because he really does know how easy that can be. But he can never be mad at you, you are the one he loves more than anything. Even know seeing you get mad is scarier than anything he's seen before.

"This is the wrong chocolate?! I wanted the ones with the nuts!" You cried falling back on the bed curling into a ball as fat tears rolled down your cheeks.

"I..." dropping his shoulder, Ford pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'll be right back." Turning to leave, Ford quickly left the home, rather not face your rathe.

"I didn't know which one you wanted so I grabbed them all." Ford stated sitting on the edge of the bed.

Sniffling, you sat up then placed a kiss to his cheek as he held you. "You're not mad at me are you."

"Of course not love, this is a very a normal reaction...you'll feel better so enough."

•Stanley Pines•

Stan is a bit slow when it comes to you and your period though he's the most sympathetic. He hates seeing you in pain and will often hold you to his chest messaging your belly doing his best to ease your cramps.

He jokes about being a personal heater for you, he really doesn't care if you yell or scream at him since he's dealt with worse.

Has you stay in the room wearing his boxers and white beaters. The man want's you to stay as comfortable as possible.

Will ask you about sex.

"What?! Stan no?" You could feel warmth creep up his neck from his suggestion.

"What?! Come on babe, I read orgasms help and a little blood never scared me. "

Rolling your eyes you did your best to ignore his hand messaging your thigh. "This shouldn't be hot to you...I shouldn't be hot to you."

Stan scoffed as he gave your hips a squeeze. "You'll always be fucking hot to me...besides I can just steal some sheets."

"Stan" "I can buy some sheets...come on doll face...It will make both of us feel good."

Huffing you then rolled on your back. "Fine."

[lilacs-stars]

a night to remember

this is part 2, recommended you read part 1 first! (to avoid confusion) pairing: james hook x fem!reader (requested) (note: reader is glinda the good witch's daughter) SUMMARY: one day, you find a mysterious note in your locker from a certain pirate. who knows where it'll end up taking you—and your interesting relationship with him. GENRE: very wholesome despite the intro (I swear), fluff, some teasing and banter, reader being oblivious, mutual pining, just relationship cuteness overall CW: not much, mentions getting tipsy (not from alcohol), one little dirty joke if you squint hard enough WC: 7.5k

A/N: the title was inspired by the song of the same name by beabadoobee and laufey (I recommend listening to it while reading, as it sets the mood nicely!) james hook is literally so gentleman coded you can’t convince me otherwise. also I randomly thought of male characters using "m'lady" and now I'm obsessed...this was made to be pure, feet-kicking and giggling inducing fluff, so enjoy! thanks again to the anon who requested this, hope you like it! please leave feedback and suggestions, hearing your thoughts makes me so happy! :))

You stare down at the drink in your hand, the realization of what it is slowly dawning upon you. 

Mouth agape in pure disbelief, you glance up at the man sitting in front of you. The devilish glint in his eyes, rivaled only by the shine of his metal hook, sends chills down your spine—making it terribly clear why he brought you. 

Oh god, you think. How in the world did I get here?

You make your way through the bustling halls of Merlin Academy, trying your best to not get jostled by the ruckus of the crowd. 

Honestly, who puts people’s classes on the sixth floor and their lockers on the first? you mentally grumble, finally reaching the dreaded staircase that you climb up and down dozens of times each day.

After descending the five flights of stairs, you’re completely out of breath by the time you reach your locker. You tap the lock with your pointer finger three times, a magical device inside reading your fingerprint. It clicks open, and your locker door swings out towards you.

Reaching to place your books inside and take out some new ones for the rest of the day's classes, you’re shocked by something that slips out as soon as the door opens. A white piece of paper sways back and forth as it falls to the floor, right next to your feet.

You bend down to pick it up. Upon closer inspection, you learn that it’s not a piece of paper; it’s a small packet, stapled in the corner. At the top, in neat, printed letters, are the words “ENCHANTMENT OF MAGICAL OBJECTS: UNIT 3 WRITTEN TEST.”

Below it, a line is provided for the student's name. Scribbled down in a fancy, yet somehow still messy and barely legible font, is the name “James Hook.”

He left me his test? you question. You don’t even bother wondering how he broke into your locker; after that little incident where he stole your ring, you have resigned yourself to not being surprised at his so-called “bad boy” antics. He is a villain, after all.

This test was one that your class had been preparing for quite some time. It mainly centered the theory of enchantments, with the most difficult one being the Aiming Spell. Thankfully, you had taught Hook most of the material during your study session last week, specifically focusing on helping him improve his Aiming Spell (although maybe he got a little too good, considering how he pulled off that ring trick).

Your confusion regarding the test placed in your locker lasts only a second longer, until you notice that in the top right corner, a big, circled "87%" is written in bright red pen.

The number stays for a brief moment, before the red ink rearranges itself on the page, morphing into a “B+”.

Wait…that’s really good. For him, at least, you think. Is this really all because of your one tutoring session? You have always thought that you’re pretty good at teaching other people, but you never considered yourself a miracle worker. He must think it is because of me, I guess. Otherwise, he wouldn't have left this in here.

Even though you know you’re probably not supposed to, your curiosity gets the better of you, and you flip back the front cover to check what he got wrong.

As soon as you lift the top page, another piece of paper falls out of the test. This time, it’s smaller, a faint beige color tinting the sheet.

You reach down once again to pick it up as you notice that this one is actually an envelope. Glancing at the back, which appears to be empty, you flip it over to the front side. It bears a wax seal embossed with an emblem of two crossed pirate swords.

Carefully peeling back the top of the envelope so as to not rip the delicate paper, you pull out the note inside. There isn’t much writing on the plain paper, but it’s in the same handwriting as before. Very intrigued at this unusual occurrence of events, you read the few lines of text keenly.

“Friday, 6 pm. The Rogers Place.

Make sure to wear your fanciest dress.

Meet me there. I’ll be waiting.”

...What? You’re too stunned to even think. What is this? There’s no way he’s actually asking you out…on a date.

This has to be a joke, right? A study session was one thing, but this, this, meetup, is something entirely different. He even asked to meet you outside of school. You've heard before of the restaurant he mentioned, although you've never actually gone there yourself. Based on what you've gathered, it's a popular, rather formal place run by Eudora Rogers and her young daughter, Tiana, in memory of her beloved husband. 

So why in the name of the heavens would James Hook ask you, someone who has no dating experience whatsoever, of all people, to go with him to dinner? “Wear your fanciest dress”? What is this guy thinking?

In utter disbelief, you flip over the note, checking the back to make sure you haven’t missed something. To your surprise, there is some writing scrawled on the back, which reads: “Your payment for helping me pass my test.”

Right…so…he’s asking you out on a—no, it’s not a date, you remind yourself, yet again. He’s simply doing a nice act to return the favor. This was probably the only thing that came to his mind. Silencing the little voice in your head that whispers, “Why would the first thing that came to his mind be asking you out to dinner?”, you stuff the envelope and note in your bookbag, holding on to the test to give back to him sometime.

As you walk down the hallway, rushing to get to your next class, you don’t see the figure lurking behind the corner at the other end of the corridor.

He smirks, knowing he has you right where he wants you.

This one? No, it’s too casual.

How about this one? No, it’s not fancy enough.

This? Too sparkly.

That? Not sparkly enough.

You sigh, flopping onto your bed amidst a pile of dresses. It’s a few hours after school let out, on the day you’ve been anticipating all week long. And, not surprisingly, you can’t decide what in the world to wear. After all, it’s not like you’ve been out on lots of not-dates to know what a typical outfit would be like.

You stare up at the ceiling, sighing again for what must be the hundredth time this night. At times like this, you seriously wish you had a roommate. You've always had your dorm all to yourself, and sure, it is really nice most of the time. You can relax and unwind in solitude, with no one distracting you or pestering you with trivial matters while you study. However, there are the rare few occasions where you long to have someone close, to help you out or give you advice.

After holding up quite a few more dresses in the mirror, you finally decide on the one with the fewest number of cons, from the mental list you made for each dress. Slipping it on—albeit with much difficulty, since who designed dresses to be so frilly to the point where you can't even find where to put your head?—you stare at your reflection, completely enamored by the person you see staring back at you. You’re not really used to wearing fancy things like this, which is probably the reason why you barely recognize yourself.

Twirling around, head over your shoulder as you keep your gaze locked on the mirror, you realize why people have always told you that you have a striking resemblance to your mother. Your outfit consists of a ballgown-style dress, which really is the only type you have in your closet. Even though it’s a bit uncomfortable, the fitted bodice making it rather hard to take a full breath and the off-the-shoulder neckline compelling you to constantly tug it up to prevent it from slipping, it still is absolutely gorgeous. The short sleeves complement the torso, and the full skirt, all puffed up with layers of tulle, swishes elegantly as you move around. The bodice is densely embellished with small rhinestones, mostly at the top, with the gems growing sparser farther down the dress. A few crystals are set into the skirt just below the waistline, creating a scattered, shimmering effect reminiscent of the stars in a night sky.

Even though you aren’t a fan of fancy dresses, you must admit, you absolutely adore this one.

Finishing off the look with some jewelry and accessories, you take one last look at yourself in the mirror. You've never been one to be arrogant, but it's still hard not to think that even though this is certainly not a date, maybe, just maybe, Hook might be a little more interested in you after tonight.

“Um…hi?” you say, timid voice rising into a question from your uncertainty.

After getting dressed, you made your way to the restaurant. Fighting the deep-rooted urge to get there early as possible, you took the long route, not wanting to be the first to arrive. I’ll make him wait for me this time, you decided with an evil little smirk, thinking back to the day of your study session and the long minutes you had agonizingly spent wondering if he was going to show up.

Now, you stand in front of the reception desk, peering up at a waiter ordering papers. Fiddling with the lace gloves covering your hands, you add, “I don’t know if my name is ion the reservation or anything…”

Honestly, you’re not quite sure what to do at this point. All Hook had instructed you was to show up at the restaurant at this time. Part of you had expected him to be waiting by the door, but now that you see he isn't, your nervousness rises.

“Are you Y/N?” the server questions, glancing down at something on the small podium-like stand.

“Uh, yes, I am,” you reply.

“A young man has made a reservation for the two of you. He’s already waiting for you out on the patio. If you’ll follow me,” the waiter informs you, grabbing a menu from his stack and leading you through the bustling restaurant.

You follow him, feeling incredibly bashful as you swerve around tables and people alike. You finally reach a large set of doors in one of the seating areas, which the waiter opens for you.

Stepping through the threshold, you sense the cool rush of the evening air welcome you out. The sky has already begun to dim, a few faint stars gleaming against the dark backdrop. Spread out in front of you is an array of tables, most of them small enough for only two people. The low lighting, coming solely from flickering candles and glowing lanterns strung throughout the area, paired with the singular rose set in a vase at the center each table and a faint, slow jazz song playing somewhere in the background, makes for the most romantic of settings you could have possibly imagined.

Your breath is completely taken away as the server leads you through the arrangements of seats. It’s sparsely crowded, with only a few couples seated here and there, each enjoying an amorous dinner.

The server stops at a circular, two-seated table close to the edge, overlooking a magnificent view of the city down below. A few feet in front ahead and sitting with his back towards you, the only object of your thoughts for these past few hours turns his head in your direction, probably upon hearing the clacking of your high-heeled shoes.

Although you’ve tried your best to convince yourself that this, in fact, is not a date, you simply can’t deny the way his entire expression light up at the mere sight of you. Hook stands up, unabashedly eyeing you up and down slowly, taking all of you in.

A small smile tugs at his lips as he takes your hand in his, once again bowing down to place a kiss on your ring—it appears that this has become a routine, which you can't exactly say you mind.

You don't miss how he pauses for just a moment, noticing the way your ring is still on your ring finger, unchanged from the place he left it. Holding your breath, your heart beats faster as you worry about what he thinks of it. To your relief, he doesn’t say anything, instead kissing the gemstone and straightening back up again, but not before ever so softly—yet still with obvious intentionality—brushing his lips against your finger, deliberately tracing your skin with an agonizingly slow pace as his warm breath sets your every nerve on fire.

“M’lady,” he breathes, standing to meet your gaze. His casual nonchalance is a stark difference from the way you struggle to regain your composure, hating how even the smallest of actions from him can elicit such a reaction from you.

As you study him, you notice that he had a significant wardrobe change too; instead of his usual pirate attire, he dons a dark maroon frock coat, embroidered with intricate swirls and designs. He definitely made an attempt at looking a bit more classy, with his hair neater than usual and the collar of his shirt tidily done. You could even swear that his hook looked more polished than usual, and that he carried the faint, odd trace of expensive cologne.

The server leaves the menu on your table and walks away with a polite nod of his head. Hook steps over to the chair opposite the one he had been sitting in, pulling it out for you in a manner that is far too gentlemanly for what you're used to seeing from him, gesturing at you to sit down with a wave of his shiny metal hook. 

Overwhelmingly flattered, you walk over, smoothing your skirt beneath you as you take your seat. Hook pushes your chair in, before going back to the other side of the table to take his own seat.

Not sure what else to do, you pick up your menu and glance over it. “Decide what you’re going to order yet?” Hook asks you.

“No, you?”

“They already took my order, but I told them to wait on preparing my food until you had ordered as well.”

They already took his order? How long has he been here? you wonder. You glance at your wristwatch, seeing that it’s only a few minutes past six o’clock. Deciding to shrug it off, you go back to looking at your menu, despite not being able to fight the voice in your head that whispers about how you should've gotten here earlier, that he had probably been waiting for you, all alone, for quite some time.

“It’s so hard to decide,” you say with a halfhearted laugh, trying to fill up the heavy silence. You peruse the menu more carefully this time, marveling at how many different dishes are listed. Finally, after reading through the entire thing a few more times, you settle on the one that sounds the best.

After only a few moments, the server comes back around and takes your order. “A fine choice, ma’am,” he comments as you tell him your choice of entrée. You notice that all of the waiters here wear fancy black suits and come with a pristine white cloth draped over their arm. Huh, how fancy, you think to yourself. I never knew this place was so formal.

“So, Hook,” you begin, “Why did you bring me here?”

“Didn’t you read my note? It’s a thank-you for helping me pass my test. The teacher was very impressed with my score, you know,” he responds indifferently.

You give him a small sigh, paired with a gentle smile—your attempt at hiding the twinge of disappointment dancing in your eyes. “I did, but you didn’t have to treat me to dinner. A simple note would have sufficed.”

Hook looks at you, dark brown eyes wide and holding your gaze with an intensity you’ve never known. “Sufficed? I don’t want to just suffice. I want to give you a memorable night. An unforgettable experience.” “I don’t think I could ever forget a charming pirate with a hook for a hand,” you laugh, teasing him lightly. Instead of laughing along with you, Hook stares at you for another moment, studying you with slightly scrunched brows and an indecipherable expression on his face. You grow uneasy at his burning look, shifting in your seat as you wonder why he’s watching you so intently.

However, the tense awkwardness in the air lasts for only a minute, before Hook breaks into one of his famous smirks as he replies, “Oh, charming, am I? I know you can’t stop thinking about me, love.”

“Th-that’s not what I meant!” you cry, leaning across the table to give him a small push. He breaks into a laugh, his lips curling up into yet another genuine smile as he leans back just out of your reach. His mirthful expression makes you realize that he had been simply joking, causing your face to burn up as your mind replays your rather dramatic reaction. Honestly, you can never really tell whether he’s being serious or just messing with you.

“Settle down, love. Wouldn’t want you ruining that pretty dress of yours,” he responds, twisting to the side again to prevent getting smacked by you.

You two continue making small talk, still partaking in your teasing, only slightly annoying banter. Before you know it, a waiter is walking towards your table with two platters, one in each hand.

The server sets down the plates on your table, the dishes both looking absolutely delectable. Along with the food, he places two matching beverages in front of you two.

You thank him, and he bows again before leaving. Turning back to Hook, you watch with a slight arch of your eyebrows as he raises his drink in the air.

“A toast,” he says. “To continuing our little dates.”

You roll your eyes, not bothering to correct him this time. Lifting your own glass, you add, “And to you continuing to get good grades.” He smiles at this, before lifting the drink to his lips. Perceptive as always, you notice how his eyes follow your hand as you bring the glass to your mouth.

A sudden, fleeting doubt crosses your mind at his suspicious behavior. Glancing down at the drink skeptically, you notice its unique bright red color. You lower +it slightly and sniff it, then bring it down from your face, fixing a glare at Hook. “You think I don’t know what this is?”

“Oh, I know you do. That’s what I was counting on, at least.”

You persist with your glare. You've spent many hours reading up on different potions and elixirs, so you're no stranger to the drink in your hand. It's a popular one known as the Lovers' Lascivious Lure, a beverage with a fruit punch-like taste, plus a little kick. The real reason for its fame, however, is the touch of love potion that gets mixed in. Not enough to truly make someone fall in love with you or intoxicate them, but rather something that is favored by couples looking to get a little tipsy in love on their night out.

You set the glass down on the table, not breaking your gaze away for a second as you continue to glower at the person sitting across you.

“It’s rude to not drink after a toast, darling,” Hook says, raising his eyebrows at you.

“I don’t care, I’m not drinking that,” you reply irritatedly. 

“Fine. Your loss, love.”

You watch in complete shock, eyes blown wide and mouth agape as Hook brings his drink up to his lips again, tipping back his head as he gulps the entire thing down in one go.

“I’d drink yours as well, darling, but I’d hate for you to be forced to walk me home, instead of the other way around,” Hook spouts with a bit too much added expression, slightly swaying as the effects of the potion kick in. 

You continue to stare at him, concern etched into your features, knowing full well that this drink is designed to be sipped slowly throughout a leisurely dinner, one with much idle conversation and flirtatious looks. Not to be downed all at once. You honestly don’t know what the side effects are to consuming a large amount very quickly, but you pray that the potion is weak enough so as to not cause actual harm—or any other effects—to him.

“So, love,” Hook drawls in a low tone, leaning in. “Anything you feel like telling me?”

“You’re the one who drank the liquid courage, not me,” you point out, fixing him with another look. “Honestly, I’m not sure how much longer you’re going to last like this.”

At your words, Hook’s dazed expression suddenly disappears, instead replaced by a very serious, stern face. “Oh, I assure you, love, I can last very long.”

You blink, a tad confused at why he said that with such a strong conviction. Brushing it off, you look down at your food again, your mouth already watering. “Come on, our food’s going to get cold, and it looks far too delicious to waste.”

Hook agrees, unrolling his utensils instead of shooting back a one-liner, much to your surprise. You’re even more taken aback at the way he drapes the white cloth, which previously held his cutlery, over his legs as he begins to eat, keeping up with his very proper etiquette. He does everything with utterly perfect decorum, from holding his fork and knife in the correct positions to cutting all his food into little pieces. You honestly don't know why this comes as such a shock to you; he has been employing rather polite manners all evening, after all. It appears, you realize, that you’ve always subconsciously believed the stereotypes that pirates are unruly creatures, which therefore must mean they eat messily.

Apparently, this pirate doesn’t.

You both make small talk as you enjoy your food, which is every bit as delicious and succulent as it looked. All the different components are cooked to a perfect degree; not raw or difficult to chew, but not burnt, either. Rich, deep, aromatic spices have always been the staple of this restaurant, and for good reason. You have no clue what flavorings they used, but whatever they are, they taste unlike anything you've ever eaten in your entire life, like an otherworldly meal sent from the heavens. To top it all off, the food also comes with piquant side dishes, followed by desserts that are absolutely decadent and make you melt with every bite you take.

After you both have had your share, Hook motions to the waiter for the check. You had slipped some extra cash into your handbag before coming, not sure what the expectation would be for who paid. As the waiter returns with the small black book in his hand, you turn to Hook.

“I can pay, if you want,” you offer. 

Hook quirks his brow as he gives you a look, before reaching into his coat pocket. “Come now, don’t be ridiculous, love. What kind of a man would I be if I didn’t pay for you? Especially considering that I was the one who asked you out.”

You blink hard, barely aware of your small nod towards him, your mind racing as the waiter gives Hook the check. You blankly watch him scribble a signature before handing it back, trying to process what he just said. “...asked you out…” Does that mean he actually considers this as a date? Especially since he offered to pay for you…Heavens, what is going on?

Your eyes trail the waiter as he leaves, just as Hook turns back to you. “All finished?”

“Yeah,” you confirm. “So…what now?” You aren't quite sure whether or not he's planning on walking you home like he mentioned earlier, but you do know that you're not ready to part quite so soon. Averting his gaze, you instead choose to look down at the candle flickering in the middle of your table. It is now very dark outside, to the point where the flame’s meager light shines with a bright luminosity. Entranced by the fire, you stare intently at its dancing movements, attention fully consumed by how the flame appears to be practically alive.

“Now,” Hook says with a glint in his eyes, causing your head to snap back up, “I have something to show you.”

“Something to show me?” you repeat. “Show me what?”

“I guess you’ll have to wait and see once we get there, love.”

“Once we get there? Hook, where are we going?”

He gives a smug, knowing grin. “You’ll see. Just be patient, darling.” He notices the skeptical look you still have, so he adds, “Trusting me last time turned out good, right? So trust me one more time. I promise you’ll like your surprise.”

You consider his words, hating how he had a point. “Fine,” you huff. “Lead the way, I guess.”

You start to push your chair back to get up, but Hook chides, “Ah ah ah, no you don’t,” standing up himself before walking behind you. He grips the back of your chair and pulls it out for you, before offering his good hand to help you stand too.

Once again, you’re rather shocked at his well-mannered behaviors and courteous gestures. As you accept his outstretched arm, you wonder how in the world this is the same person who was, only a few days ago, leaning back in his chair with his feet up, flinging magical disks across the room.

Getting up, you hesitate for a moment, freezing in place now that you’re level with his eyes. You haven’t been this close to him since that pivotal day during your study session, and your breath gets taken away once again by the proximity.

His angular features and sharp jawline catch your attention, causing your legs to stagger as your gaze wanders down to his soft, plush lips, which definitely stand out amidst the rest of his chiseled face. You had never noticed how his eyeliner also traces his bottom lash line, making his eyes pop whenever he widens them, or how part of his hair swoops to the side and slightly covers his forehead. It dawns on you that you’ve always overlooked the two small silver earrings that dangle from his ears, or the chain around his neck with a cross on it, usually hidden by the collar of his shirt.

Not aware of how you’re just standing there paralyzed, you commit to memory the small details about him you’ve never really seen before. Even though the inside of your head is alive and bustling with a plethora of thoughts, outside, you two stand in terribly awkward silence.

Hook clears his throat, snapping you back to reality. “Come along, darling. We wouldn’t want to be interrupted by curfew again.”

Tightening his grip on your hand, which still holds yours, he leads you through the entrance you had used not so long ago while bidding farewell to the waiter. You continue up the hill to the woods behind the restaurant, Hook refusing to give even a single hint as to what big surprise awaits you.

The trail through the trees starts off easy enough, although still rather difficult for you to traverse in your tight dress and voluminous skirt. If I had known I’d be taking a hike, I’d have worn something more suitable, and much more comfortable, you think, but ultimately decide to keep your mouth shut. After all, Hook had been spoiling you all evening. The least you could do was not nag him about every last thing.

The farther you go, the thicker the branches that block your path and scratch at your arms with their sharp claws get, and the denser the underbrush that tries to trap your feet and swallow you whole grows. After a quarter hour of consistent walking, the trail all but disappears, until only a small path carved by the footsteps of a few brave souls remains. You have to hold up the edge of your full-length skirt the whole way to ensure it doesn’t get all dirty and muddy; by the time you’re nearly done, your arms ache just as much, if not more, than your legs.

You and Hook travel mostly in silence, the sounds of your heavy panting and the crunches of leaves and branches underfoot filling up the empty air. You trail behind him, sometimes struggling to keep up, although he does happen to notice this and slows down his pace after the first few minutes.

Occasionally, Hook gives a short, crisp, “Watch out for the rock there, love,” or “The branches here are really low, I’ll hold them up for you.” You always respond with a clipped “Yeah,” or “Okay, thanks,” trying to mask just how out of breath you've gotten from the difficult climb. Early on in the beginning of the hike, you had to let go of his hand, favoring holding up your skirt instead. Still, in areas where the ground is rough or rocky, or the footing becomes difficult or rather steep, Hook always turns around and offers his hand to you and helps pull you up, or reaches out his hook from overhead for you to grab on to.

The noises of the night accompany you the entire time: the soft chirps of crickets, a few croaks from a frog somewhere out of sight, a creature or other scampering through the bushes, a rare call from an owl, and the whispering of the leaves above as a cool breeze passes through them. After a few more minutes of walking through a maze of nature with trees so thick—their only rival being the velvety blackness of the night—the pace of the trek finally slows down. You've long tired of always having to hold one arm ahead to ensure that you don’t get smacked in the face by an unsuspecting branch, so you're overwhelmingly relieved when Hook finally says, “We’re almost there.” “Finally,” you mumble between breaths. “I think my limbs are just about to fall off.” You can’t really tell in the pitch-black darkness, but you could have sworn that Hook gave a small smile at your words.

Once you reach a thick tangle of branches and vines that completely block your path, you both come to a stop. You watch as he pulls them back and to the side, even slicing through some with his hook. He beckons you forward with a courteous, “Ladies first,” a grin dancing on his features.

You walk through the clearing and onto a wide ledge overlooking the entire city. The view knocks the breath out of your lungs, despite your body already screaming at you for more oxygen. All thoughts of your strenuous hike vanish from your head, except for one that reminds you the arduous journey was absolutely and totally worth it.

From all the way up here, you can see the entire land. The shimmering lights of the large cityscape below you steal your heart, while the small village houses and mountains beyond them, creating the faintest of outlines against the horizon, capture your soul. This vantage point allows you to see everything; every bustling street filled with people rushing to get home after a long week, or frolicking around on a night out. Every house, every drawn-back curtain, but a mere speck in the constellation of human activity, a testament to the splendor of life. Twinkling lights sprawled below you paint a shimmering mosaic, reflecting the celestial canvas of stars hanging above you.

You stare in pure awe, almost forgetting about Hook as he approaches you from behind. “Enjoying the view, love?” he whispers softly, his voice closer to you than you expected.

You startle, turning backwards with a sharp inhale. “Oh…yeah, it’s just…breathtaking.” Unable to think of the right words to describe it, you decide to settle for an almost shameful understatement of the view's beauty.

You’re not quite sure if you imagined it, too caught up in your head, but you hear something that almost sounds like a soft, “Just like you.”

“Huh?” you ask, turning back around to face him. 

“I said, I told you you’d like it,” Hook repeats, although you still hold your suspicions. “All you had to do was trust me.”

“And how can I be sure you aren’t planning to push me off the edge?” you question, teasing him.

“Well, you can’t,” he replies, walking over to the ledge. “But if I do, I’ll let you drag me down with you. If we go down, then we go down together.”

You giggle, choosing to take his words at face value only and not read into them too much. After all, your heart can only take so much in one night.

Hook crouches down, using his good hand to support him as he sits down in front of you, keeping one foot hugged to his chest as he dangles the other off the side of the cliff.

He glances over his shoulder at you, patting the space besides him. Cautiously, you walk over to the ledge, joining him on the ground. 

You both sit there for a moment in silence, looking over the magnificent scene. You can tell that Hook finds comfort in the lack of conversation, but it feels too heavy for you, and so you decide to finally break it with the question that’s been on your mind this whole night.

“Hook?” you ask gently.

“Hmm?”

“Why did you bring me here?”

He turns his head slightly to glance at you. “I thought you’d like the view,” he replies, looking at you with a confused expression.

You take a quick breath, preparing yourself for the difficult words you’re planning to speak next. “No, I mean, why did you really bring me here tonight?” He opens his mouth to respond, but you cut him off, adding, “And don’t lie to me.”

His mouth closes shut again and he hesitates for a moment, contemplating his next sentence carefully, before responding, “I’ve already told you.”

“What, that you wanted to thank me for helping you get a B-plus on your test? Yeah, that excuse won’t work on me anymore.”

“No, not that.” He turns his head back and runs his good hand through his hair, making his neatly combed style look a bit more windswept than before. “I wanted to ask you out on a date.”

“…What?”

“I already told you that it was a date, love. You just chose not to believe me.”

It’s your turn to whip your head to the side this time, now facing directly towards Hook, who’s still looking straight ahead at the scenery.

“I-I didn’t…truly…I thought you were just joking when you said that.”

He glances at you again, a roguish grin forming on his lips. “Oh, darling, I don’t joke about much. Especially not with you.”

Again, you choose not to read too deeply into his words, trying to break your awful habit of overthinking. Instead, you press on, wanting to gain as much information as you can from him. If nothing else, at least a few answers might help put your mind at a little more ease. “Why’d you want to ask me out? I’m not exactly…”

Your voice fades away as your brain catches up with your far-too-fast mouth, realizing that saying “I’m not exactly the most desirable person to date” may not do you any favors.

Hook turns to look at you with an expectant gaze, and you know that you can’t sweep your little slip-up under the carpet that easily. Gods, he’s observant. “…the most popular person at our school,” you finish.

“Hmm, true,” Hook concurs, tilting his head with a tone as if he’s never considered that point before. You were half-expecting him to disagree, more out of courtesy than honesty, so you’re a bit taken aback when he agrees with you.

“But I don’t care about popularity.” Ah, so there’s that socially obligatory politeness. You don't really believe his words at first, yet the way he says it so sincerely, so genuinely, makes you wonder if he truly is being honest.

“So why’d you want to take me out on a date?”

“Because, love, you’re different from what I’m used to,” he replies. “You’re kind, soft, pure. You intrigued me.”

You recoil at his words, a deep, writhing anger rising out of you. “What, you only went out with me because I’m so pure and innocent? So you could corrupt me?” you spit, having heard this little skit far too many times before.

“No, not like that. Not at all.” Hook twists his body to face you more, and although you’re still mad at him, you can’t deny the hurt and pain that swirls in his voice and eyes at your accusations. “You’re…you’re always trying to help others. You always speak softly, always smile. You’re untainted by the evils I've witnessed. You’re like an angel sent down from the heavens. You’re not like me, love."

Hook continues, “And I don’t want to change that. I don’t want to corrupt or hurt you. I want to preserve that. Every time I’m with you, you make me want to keep you safe from the troubles of the world, the cruel things I’ve seen.

"You make me want to be around you. I can't explain how, or why, but your presence alone compels me to change my ways. To be kinder, gentler, softer. For you. It's as if you're contagious, and well, I think you've infected me, love. Whenever I see you, or even think of you, everything feels just a little bit better. The weight on my shoulders feels a bit lighter, and nothing seems as bad as it used to, as it was when I was on my own.

"I guess what I'm trying to say is...you've made me feel things that I haven't felt in a long, long time. Things that I thought my blackened heart couldn't even experience anymore. You make me feel like there's still goodness in the world...like there's still hope. Like I still have hope." You blink slowly, your mind and heart spinning alike as everything around you, as time itself, seems to slow down. You're unable to process all his words, unable to even begin to consider the implications of what this all means. “So, what you’re saying is…you only like me because I’m good?” you ask, touched by his sentiment, yet a little sad at the underlying meaning. Does this mean that if you want to stay with Hook, to maybe even be something in the future, you can't have any darkness to your soul? That you'll have to continue to be as righteous and morally correct as ever?

He gives a small chuckle. “Of course not, darling. I love when I make you snap, when you get angry at me. I love when the fierce part of you comes out. Just like it did now.” He reaches out his good hand to tuck a loose strand of your hair behind your ear, brushing against your cheek as he keeps it there, not pulling back quite yet.

You can see the hesitance swirling in his eyes, the uncertainty in the way his hand lingers by your face. By some sudden stroke of courage, the origins of which are a complete mystery to you—maybe he had the love potion added to your food too?—you shift your whole body towards Hook, keeping your legs tucked together and off to one side. 

“Kiss me,” you breathe.

“I'm sorry, love, wh-what?”

It feels strange to take command for once, but it sure is nice. “You heard me. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

His lingering hand cups your cheek as you both lean in, meeting each other in the middle. Hook’s lips are as soft and plump as you imagined, almost like brushing your mouth against the petals of a rose. Placing one of your hands on the ground beside you, you put your weight on it as you move even closer.

You’ve read of intense kisses, filled with passion and fueled by lust. But this isn't like that. It is slow, sweet, intoxicating you with only the purest of adorations. Your lips hover over his as you tilt your head to the side to prolong the embrace, getting swept up in the moment whilst being completely and blissfully unaware of anything and everything besides how his lips feel against yours, how his hook traces your body as he devours you like a starved man given his last meal. How he breathes you in like you're the very air that fills his lungs, like your sheer essence is the only oxygen he needs. You bring your hand up to his shoulder, leaning further into him as he moves his good hand back and tangles it in your hair.

It ends rather quickly, the entire kiss lasting but a moment, yet still filling you with the sweetest pleasure. In that moment, you realize why people spend their whole lives searching for love; it’s one of the most endearing, profound forms of joy that one can feel, and you're certain that you just felt it.

You pull away, noticing how his gaze lingers on your lips, before looking back up at you. He gives you a captivating, yet genuine smile, one that makes your heart to ache at how perfect he is, yet simultaneously yearning for his touch, his lips, him being wrapped up in another embrace with you and never breaking away. The newfound euphoria coursing through your veins and making your mind fuzzy causes you to return his smile with a wide, love-drunk grin of your own, a deep, wholehearted devotion emanating through your gaze as you study his features.

“Can I tell you a secret?” you whisper, staring into his eyes—eyes that reflect your own.

“Always, love.”

“You were my first kiss,” you confess.

Hook brings his hand back up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing along your cheekbone. His grin grows, an endless affection swirling in his dark eyes as he replies, “I guess this really is a night to remember.”

You give a small laugh, lowering your forehead to lean it against his shoulder, seeking comfort in his hold. “You did want to give me an unforgettable night, after all.”

“Can I tell you a secret, too?”

You raise your head again to peer up at him with wide eyes, curious as to what he has to admit.

“That day, in class,” he confides, “I was enchanting those disks and sending them across the room so you’d come and talk to me. I saw how you went over to help that other kid who was struggling. So, I figured that if I struggled too, you'd come over and I could get a conversation with you.”

You raise your eyebrows. “So you could cast the spell right?”

“Oh, no, not even close, love. That was all your work. Although I might have put in a bit more effort just to impress you,” he adds with a small smirk.

You move one of your hands closer to him, placing it on top of his and intertwining your fingers together. “Well, I suppose it worked.”

You lean back into him, kissing him blissfully yet again under the watchful smile of the moon glowing high in the sky, the stars glimmering and winking down at your young love. As you embrace, the city below bustles with the joys and despairs of human life unbeknownst to you, each person a thread in the tapestry of the world. Every soul but a speck of stardust in a cosmic dance.

And perhaps that is the greatest folly of human life. All the weight of one’s burdens, all the battles fought, all the hearts and souls that love and cry, together composing of but a fleeting second amidst the vastness of forever. And yet, each person gets lost in the preeminence of their own narrative, joyfully unaware of every grain of sand that disappears into the abyss as we shuffle closer to the edge of this mortal coil. But oftentimes, one’s deepest flaw is their greatest feat, as no imperfection comes without its own merit.

So maybe that very feature is, instead, the greatest feat of humanity. To love like you’ll live forever, and to weep like there’s no tomorrow. Maybe our ignorance gives us strength, the strength to keep going every day, pretending as if we somehow have an authority and power over the galactic strings of thread that weave together the fate of our universe.

The city below you, the world outside of the little bubble the two of you have created, moves on, unknown and unknowing of you both. But in this moment, nothing else matters. Nothing besides the love and affection you and him have grown to share.

end x

<- back to part 1

taglist: @4ng3l-ch1ld @astrynyx @0strawberrysorbet0 @ljaylmaoo @maggiecc @elltheawkward @eretsupremacy89 @dreamerofasgard @mabs04

just leave a comment if you want to be added to the taglist!

a/n: I just had to end this with some philosophical musings haha (hey google, how do you write beginnings and endings?) anyways hope you liked this, I love making fluff like this :D I love seeing everyone's comments and reactions, all feedback is highly appreciated! until next time :))

do not plagiarize, translate, remake, or copy my works, including my writing and images, in any way.

[sainzsiren]

ill beg u on my knees to do a smau with leo valdez PLEASEEE

"king of my heart"

leo valdez x unclaimed!reader

smau - dating as demigods is hard, but leo makes it easy

🎧 - king of my heart by taylor swift

a/n: i'm backkkkk! i havent been super active recently but i'm really trying to get back into it. first leo request woooooo! i also just updated the format of my smaus, posted a poll for my next smau, and added request guidelines so go check it out and request!! xoxo, liz

*swearing and suggestive content, not checked so might contain mistakes*

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

liked by theleovaldez, whosannabeth, and others

yn_yln pizza date 😇🍕

tagged theleovaldez

view comments:

whosannabeth this is adorable

yn_yln ur adorable

percy.jackson i agree

itslukecastellan are those my glasses?

theleovaldez no...

percy.jackson ur making me hungry

whosannabeth ur always hungry

yn_yln lmao fatass

theleovaldez ❤️

yn_yln i love u more than pizza

theleovaldez oh

yn_yln ????!!!!!

theleovaldez i really like pizza

yn_yln 😐

theleovaldez but i really love you

larueclarisse AWEEEEEEE

yn_yln 🤭

_groverunderwood tin cans>>

yn_yln ew grover

yn_yln's story

view reply from theleovaldez:

theleovaldez ur literally the love of my life

yn_yln and ur mine

view reply from whosannabeth:

whosannabeth WE SHOULD DO A BEACH DOUBLE DATE

yn_yln OMG YES! SATURDAY?

whosannabeth YES

view reply from percy.jackson:

percy.jackson ur so lucky i didnt drown u

yn_yln wtf???

percy.jackson oh sorry i thought this was leos story

percy.jackson im dyslexic

yn_yln a) we all are b) wtf???

theleovaldez's story

liked by yn_yln, iamchrisrodriguez, larueclarisse, and others

liked by itslukecastellan, _groverunderwood, and others

theleovaldez the world and my world in pngs

tagged yn_yln

view comments:

larueclarisse "my world" SCREAMING CRYING SOBBING

yn_yln me rn

iamchrisrodriguez ur my world clar

larueclarisse this isnt about you chris

theleovaldez 💀

yn_yln king of my 🖤

theleovaldez body and soul 🖤

whosannabeth percy you no longer have any excuses to not learn taylor for me

itslukecastellan ok this is cute

theleovaldez ur cute

yn_yln 😃??

_groverunderwood leave the bromance alone y/n

silenaaaa goals 👏

liked by theleovaldez and yn_yln

yn_yln's story

view reply from silenaaaa:

silenaaa how to find a boy in this font no effort envolved

yn_yln lmao (fr tho i have no idea how this happened)

view reply from theleovaldez:

theleovaldez you make every picture pretty

yn_yln ur the kind of guy they write songs about

theleovaldez 🖤

[oscpias]

if you're up for it

logan sargeant and the inked soulmate prompt (also this isnt too related to the suggestion but does prompt include writing in drawing? or just actual drawings?)

maybe logan absentmindedly drawing the circuit he'll be racing on before the race starts, when reader sees they add details to it, recognizing it, and reader is there at the race whether to watch or as a worker and they somehow run into each other after the race and maybe logan notices the drawing on reader (perhaps short sleeves with the drawing done on the arm)

Hey, thanks for your request:) I hope you like it

This is actually my first work

Like I mentioned it will take me always some days to finish them

——————————————————————————————-

Ink soulmates | Logan Sargeant

Logan Sargeant x fem!reader

593 words

Masterlist

——————————————————

Logan grew up with drawings on his skin. When he was little, he was excited about it and would always show it to his parents. At the age of thirteen he began to understand the concept of soulmates and he tried to have a conversation with his soulmate, but he never got an answer. He eventually gave up. So, when Logan started karting, he had the habit to always draw the circuit into a small notebook he always carried with him. It’s a habit which still stayed with him even in Formula 1.

Y/n grew up with a love for drawing on her own skin. Pretty early in her life she got told to stop that because it shows up on another person's skin. So even when different questions started to show up on her arms, she tried to ignore and cover them. Thanks to her dad y/n grew up with a passion for motorsport. When she was little, she was watching the races in front of the TV with her dad. Now that she is 23, she got herself tickets for the Austrian GP with her best friend.

Logan was prepared for everything what might happened at this weekend. But when he wanted to draw the circuit into his red notebook, he couldn’t find it. He even asked Alex if he has seen it, but he only got a “No, sorry mate” back. So, he did the most logical thing he could think of, he drew the circuit on his underarm. Just the circuit, no turns or DRS zones.

At first y/n didn’t see the new drawing on her underarm. But because she was wearing a nice summer dress, her friend pointed it out to her: “Hey, look! Your soulmate drew the circuit on his arm. Maybe he’s also here.” Y/n took a closer look, and her friend was right it was the racetrack. “Do you have a pen? He forgot to add the turns and DRS zones to mark”, y/n said to her friend who handed her a pen and she added every other missing detail she could think of.

Logan didn’t notice the new details on his arm until Oscar pointed it out to him: “Hey man, there was just the circuit and now there are all the details. I think your soulmate knows a thing or two about racing”. Logan shakes his head and tries to focus on the race ahead.

Y/n and y/f/n are walking through the pit lane and looked in the different garages when y/n pumped into someone. Only a hand stopped her from falling to the ground. When she wanted to thank the person who saved her, she was met with an Oscar Piastri studying her arm. “So, you’re his soulmate. Oh, he will never believe me that one!” “You know my soulmate?”, y/n asks with a hopeful undertone in her voice. Oscar nods and simply drags her along to the Williams hospitality.

“Logan, I found her!”, is all Logan hears when he is leaving the hospitality. He looks up from his phone and sees Oscar who’s dragging a girl with him. “I found your soulmate! She has the same drawing as you on her arm”, Oscar is really excited about this.

“Hi!”, is all y/n manages to get out. The man in font of her holds out his hand y/n assumes to shake it and takes it. But to her surprise he takes a look at the drawing on her arm and his eyes start to sparkle. “Nice to meet you, soulmate”, he smiles.

©️oscpias 2024

[anonymityisfunwriter]

CONGRATS ON THE MILESTONE!!!!!!!

i’m so happy you’ve captured the audience you deserve with all the stories you’ve shared with us

you never let me down with anything. now, i don’t typically read sam wilson romantic fics (i love him platonically), but your midnight rain fic truly had my heart in pieces, i adored the way you wrote everything and the flash backs that tied it all together. solid 5 stars from me <3

now, as for a possible request / idea, i’m obsessed with a classic “who did this to you?” / “who did this” protective fic with bucky - or anyone really. romantic or platonic, it’s a favourite of mine and i’m sure that i’d love any way you wrote it – if you chose to write that, no pressure at all i just love you

an: i would gladly write anything for you. ily, bestie, and thank you so, so much 🥹

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Anon's 1K Celebration | Bucky Barnes Masterlist

Who Did This To You?

this made me think of irrationally overprotective bucky barnes. the one who threatens men that stare at you a little too long. the one who wouldn't have a single qualm about killing someone for hurting you, even if you're perfectly capable of taking care of yourself.

you’re not together. it doesn’t matter what anyone thinks, you’re really not.

you’re just close. sometimes, a little too close.

but you're not together. no, you're definitely not together.

so after a long, exhausting, disaster of a mission, you're not thrilled to be sitting in the medbay with your team mates not so gently suggesting that you need to tell bucky.

"he's going to be pissed," sam warns.

"occupational hazard," you grunt, holding the ice pack to your throbbing temple. "he's just going to have to deal."

"so you don't deny that he's gonna be pissed?"

you roll your eyes, "no one likes when their friends get hurt."

sam shrugs, "friends, bed buddies, a couple, same shit, different font."

you groan at him, hissing as you accidentally put a little too much pressure on your temple, "don't you have to go annoy anyone else?"

sam looks down at his watch and hums, "not until 4."

there isn't a warning when bucky bursts through the door, rage rolling off of him in waves. his darkened eyes flash over to you.

"you know, on second thought, i did have that other thing to go do, so, uh, bye!"

bucky's chest heaves for a reason that has nothing to do him running down here. he stalks over to you, making no attempt to hide his eye raking over you head to toe.

"buck..." you sigh.

he stands before you, and without a word, he grips your chin, angling it to the side to see the full injury.

you suck in a sharp breath, you've never seen him this upset. his nostrils flare as he breaks his silence. "who did this to you?"

"bucky," you admonish. it wasn't even that bad. you took the butt of a rifle to the temple, leaving a nasty bruise and knocking you out momentarily. thankfully, sam was there to assist. it looked much worse than it felt.

he grips the back of your neck, his breath coming out in pants, "i want a name. now."

you rest your hand against his chest. you can feel his heart hammering against his ribcage, "it’s fine. mission’s over. it’s done."

"fuck no," bucky growls. "someone gave my girl -"

"your girl?" you rasp.

one hand still gripping the back of your neck, bucky's other vibranium hand comes to lift your chin to meet his gaze. your shiver has nother to do with the cool metal. bucky's breath skates across your gaped lips, "no one touches what’s mine."

AnonymityIsFun Masterlist Anon's 1K Celebration

As always, let me know what you think! Reblogs and comments are always appreciated! 💛

Taglist: @marianita195 @meli18gonzalez@ludicbouquetfromearth@matchat3a@famousbreadcherryblossomsstuff@valoraxx@blue786sworld@buckyandgeraltsupremacy@geminigengar@ansaturn@ecolle@lexhalstead3@ybflkmj@mediocre-daydreams@shanye1112@thegirlnextdoorssister@toomanyfanficsbruh@moonlightreader649@breathtaking-cynthia@mirikusashes@beans-and-toast@niyahcoca@katiechikin@elxvrr@antiheroxsblog@infamouslyclumsy@krissydclayton93@buckysbarne@deadheadwbedhead @qualitygiantshoepsychic@whitexwolfxx310 @getosprettyboy @buckybarnessimpp @withyoutilltheendoftheline

[seethesin]

rotaries and roses

pairing: Tattoo Artist!Corky x Florist!F!Reader

tags/warnings: modern au, tattoo artist/florist trope, first time tattoos, suggestive themes, cursing, teasing

a/n: requested by anonymous here. this was my biggest challenge yet because... this is smut free and i don't have tattoos 😭 i hope you guys don't mind how many liberties i took with this! as there are no gif hunts of gina as corky, this will have a gifless format. enjoy! 🥰

You found yourself at Corky's by the recommendation of a close friend. Every time you mentioned your desire for a tattoo, they would practically beg you to give the tattoo shop a chance before pulling up their Instagram page. The first thing you noticed was the address. The tattoo shop was on the same street as your flower shop; how you hadn't noticed it sooner was beyond you.

Your friend was right. You needed to take your ass over there. And now, there was no excuse not to.

Out of all the artists featured, the owner, Corky, had your favorite designs. Her Neo-Traditional style blew you away, and it was the post featuring a canvas with an array of roses that sealed the deal. They had always been your favorite flower, regardless of the stereotypical label they held. Every bouquet of roses that leaves your shop always receives your special attention. They never fail to bring a smile to your face, regardless of the color, quantity, or occasion. To have them on your body felt right to you and you wanted them in Corky's signature style.

You spent the rest of that evening mulling over what you wanted. It took you a few more days, but finally, you came to a decision. You wanted a ram surrounded by Corky's roses. A ribbon would wind around the portrait of the ram with the phrase: My will is sturdy inscribed on it. The design was perfect and you knew Corky would do your vision justice.

Your consultation was the first time you meant Corky outside of emailing her. A studded leather jacket was haphazardly thrown over her white tank top. You couldn't tell what brand of jeans she wore, but they did wonders for her legs. Her steel-toed boots clicked on the hardwood floor as she came to greet you. You accepted her offered hand into a shake and couldn't stop yourself from memorizing the callouses on her palm within those few, fleeting seconds. Her brown hair was perfectly unkempt and a permanent, knowing smirk was glued onto her face.

"I'm Corky."

She was hot. You were fucked.

After your initial greetings, she brought you to the back where her desk was so you both could work through your design. You found as many references as possible, including the same array of roses you saw on her shop's Instagram page. Corky chuckled fondly as she examined the canvas, lips quirking into a genuine smile.

"This is some of my older work," she mused as if she was warning you. Her gaze flickered through her lashes, brow quirked inquisitively at you.

"It's one of my favorites," you admit and Corky's smile only grows at your confession.

The close proximity allows you to catch onto her scent: fresh smoke and citrus. You want her to tattoo it into your lungs.

"Give me an hour and I'll have something nice for you. I'll call you when I'm finished."

One phone call later and you were back in her shop. Unsure of proper etiquette in the tattooing world, you had brought back coffee for both yourself and Corky. You needed a pick me up and it felt strange not to share with her. Shyly, you offered her a cup which she graciously accepted. Your guess of Corky taking her coffee black was right; you swallow a smile at the thought. She leads you back to her desk so she can present you her work.

It's overwhelming how beautiful Corky's art is. Everything about it is perfect and truly, you can't think of anything else to add, remove, or change. The roses woven through the ram's horns, the brilliant blue outline, and the delicate font she chose for the banner were small details you would have never considered on your own.

Your lack of a verbal response makes Corky laugh, leaning in closer.

"Stunned ya speechless, huh?" she teased and you can't help but laugh with her.

"It's gorgeous, Corky."

There's something on Corky's tongue as she pauses. Silently, you watch her shake whatever thought it was away before refocusing on you.

"Where do you want this?"

You pause to think.

"I think my thigh would be the best. I've read that it's one of the better places to get your first tattoo."

This information slaps a smile back on her face.

"You read right. That works for me."

Soon after, you discuss the rest of the housekeeping tasks regarding your tattoo. Once you put an initial deposit down, you decide on a date a month later. You bid Corky goodbye and return to your flower shop to close up for the night. Before you retire to bed, you start working on a custom rose bouquet for one of your clients.

The roses are beautifully crimson, just like the ones Corky drew for you.

"I'll be with ya in a moment!" A disembodied voice calls from the next room over at the sound of the doorbell. You nod—more to yourself—before shutting the door behind you.

A month blew by quicker than you anticipated. Tonight, you found yourself awkwardly stationed at the front door of Corky’s tattoo shop with a cup of coffee in each hand. On her recommendation, you came well-fed, hydrated, and with eight hours of sleep under your belt. You donned a loose, simple dress, figuring it would make Corky's job tonight easier.

What you didn't realize was that she booked you as her closer tonight. The shop was empty and immediately, you felt yourself sweating. Silently, you asked whatever higher powers existed to refrain from making you out into a fool tonight.

Shifting on your heels, you visibly brighten at the sound of Corky's boots thundering towards you. She appears from the backroom, grinning ear to ear as she walks towards you. She's clad in another plain white tank top and dark jeans, revealing the complex sleeves her leather jacket hid. The most notable tattoo is of a labrys on her upper arm.

"Hey stranger," she greets, raising her brows as you offer her a coffee cup. "You spoil me; thank you."

You don't miss the way her eyes drag down your frame.

Corky's fingers slide against yours as she takes the coffee from you. Her touch is electric and you hold back from shivering. If something so innocuous got to you, you don't know how you'll last tonight.

"My pleasure." You don't mean to sound so breathless, but you were currently recovering from her touch. Corky merely smiles and beckons you to follow her. You do so wordlessly, stepping up and over to her workstation.

She sifts through her desk before pulling out the stencil of your tattoo. Turning on her heel, she presents it to you and you nearly choke on your coffee.

It’s perfect.

Every detail from her initial artwork has been transcribed onto the stencil. You find yourself hypnotized as you lean in closer. It needs to be on your body now.

"Corky," you start and she laughs, gesturing for you to sit in the chair. You do so quickly, placing your belongings on an empty side table out of the way.

"Don't go worshipping me yet," she teases, easily picking up on the dreaminess laced in your voice.

She drags over a small, wheeled cart, completely set up for your session. You're unfamiliar with everything on it, but you watch carefully as she sets up her rotary machine. After checking to make sure you didn't have a latex allergy, Corky puts on a pair of black, single-use gloves.

"I still gotta tattoo it."

Pulling her stool over, her gloved hand goes to your thigh. The edge of her thumb grazes the hem of your dress and tenderly—so tenderly you might faint—she pushes the skirt up. You meet her in the middle, pulling it the rest of the way so it settles just over your hips. Cool air immediately rushes between your thighs and you've never felt more exposed. Corky guides your leg towards her and the thought of her face buried in your cunt flashes in your mind. Swiftly, you shake it away.

You allow her to position you as she sees fit while she preps your skin. Once satisfied, she presses the stencil to your skin to transfer the design. It takes all of your restraint to stay still and on the chair. How were you going to make it through a two hour session?

"Go check it out in the mirror." Corky points her thumb behind her and her voice sucks you back from your reverie.

Holding your dress skirt up, you walk to the wall mirror and examine the design. Turning to her, you hold a thumb up as she stares intensely at the exposed flesh. She hums in approval and you hurry back onto the chair. You get comfortable and again, Corky's hands are on your thigh. She's readjusting you and your teeth dig into the inside of your cheek to keep from moaning.

"Are you ready?"

You nod.

"Let's begin."

The first ten minutes are relatively quiet. The buzz of the rotary is the only thing distracting you from the dull pain in your thigh. Well, that and the fact that her other hand is gripping your thigh in a way that makes your head spin. Corky pipes up first over the noise.

"What do you do?"

You beam; you adore answering this question.

"I'm a florist!" You watch as Corky's brows raise in interest, her gaze intensely fixed on your leg as she works. "I actually own the flower shop just up the street."

The buzzing stops completely and her eyes are glued to your face, lips parted in surprise.

"You own Fern & Flora?"

You nod proudly, practically glowing from the recognition.

"No shit; one of my girls, Sue, is there every two weeks buying flowers for her girlfriend."

Corky's machine whirs back to life and the prickly pain on your thigh returns. You hum to yourself, going over a mental list of your regulars and who could fit the profile Corky described.

"She's always going on about how her girlfriend likes the—"

"Violets." You finish thoughtfully, unable to stop the genuine smile growing across your face. "Margaret's favorite flowers are violets and Sue never lets me forget it."

You watch the way Corky's face softens as you speak. Her thumb presses against your inner thigh and your breath hitches quietly in your throat.

"What's your favorite flower?"

Staring down at her in disbelief, a chuckle pushes from your throat. You gesture to the tattoo she was currently working on, hoping to highlight the array of roses she was getting ready to outline.

"Do you even have to ask?"

Corky's shoulders raise into a shrug, glancing up at you quickly before refocusing on your thigh.

"Hey, forgive me for making small talk." The smile in her voice is evident and you find yourself grinning along with her.

"What's your favorite flower?" You toss the question back to Corky, ready to take her answer and brand it into the back of your mind.

She takes a moment to think about your question. If it wasn't obvious already, you could tell that this was something Corky hadn't previously thought about.

"I think I'm going to have to swing by your shop at some point to answer that question."

You can't help but blush. Was she flirting with you?

"I'd like that," you admit, fiddling with your fingernails.

Corky doesn't respond, instead reabsorbing herself back into her work. But a sly smirk plays on her lips and you have to stare up at the ceiling to keep your thoughts at bay.

"I think you'd like cornflowers." You finally state after a minute of silence. The cool colors and perky petals reminded you of Corky's persona. The bouquets that you crafted with them were some of your favorites so far.

"I think I'd like anything you recommend."

Okay, she's definitely flirting with you. Brazenly, you reply with: "Then I recommend you visit me sooner rather than later."

"Oh yeah?" There's a teasing edge in Corky's voice and you feel the warmth rise to your cheeks. Her voice drops an octave lower and you've completely disregarded the pain in your thigh. "And why's that?"

In that moment, you’ve forgotten everything about yourself. The only things you could comprehend were Corky’s hands groping your flesh and the irritating whizzing of the rotary. You suddenly feel hot and the idea of stripping your dress off grows more attractive with each passing second.

“I want to make a bouquet for you.” The sentence is rushed from your own nervousness, but you mean every word. “The sooner you stop by, the better of a selection I’ll still have for the season.”

Caught off guard, Corky sputters out a cough. However, she doesn’t stop working. The machine is still on as she finishes the outline of your tattoo without issue. You glance down curiously and witness her face flush crimson. A delighted giggle squeezes from your throat and you swear Corky blushes deeper than before.

“I’ll come by tomorrow.”

Your laughter is replaced with a kind smile. “Promise?”

She nods.

The rest of your session goes swiftly. Corky works like a machine: detailed, efficient, and insanely accurate. Your small talk comes and goes in waves, more so that she can focus on her work above all else. With a final wipe of her towel, your tattoo is finished two hours later. She grins eagerly before looking up at you.

"Wanna check it out?"

You don't miss a beat: "Uh, of course!"

You practically spring off the chair, stretching your legs as you scurry over to the mirror. The hem of your dress is still bawled in your fists as you stare at your thigh. You can hear Corky snickering at you while you fawn over her work.

"Holy shit..." You are awestruck and you turn to her, gaping before turning back to the mirror.

"It looks incredible," she agrees, discarding her gloves before pulling the rolling cart over to the side and out of the way. She goes to her workstation, pulls a few documents out, and scribbles something down as you continue to gape and stare at your new tattoo.

You return to Corky's workstation, gathering your belongings as you ready your wallet. She turns to face you again, handing you paperwork and guidance on how to maintain your new tattoo. You listen to her instructions carefully, unable to stop yourself from staring at her chapped lips every few moments.

"Do you have any questions?" You shake your head, averting your gaze to the papers she gave you. It essentially regurgitated what she said aloud, but you were thankful to have something written to refer to. Corky had also included her business card that you examined, noting the handwritten number just below her professional contact information.

"Actually, I do have a question," you start, not looking up from the papers in your hands. "Do you give all of your clients your personal number?"

Turning the documents to Corky, you point at the handwritten digits just below her work email. She flushes briefly before clearing her throat.

"Well no," she starts and a grin is already curling on your lips, watching as she gathers her thoughts. "But I figured it would make sense to give it to you. For tomorrow."

You hum thoughtfully, glancing over at her workstation before looking at her.

"Can I borrow that?" You gesture at a Sharpie marker on the side and she snatches it up before handing it to you.

"Give me your arm."

Corky stares at you, bewildered by your demand, but obediently offers her right arm to you. Your fingers clasp her wrist, outstretching it so that her fingertips just barely graze the top of your chest.

You miss the sharp inhale Corky takes.

Carefully, you jot your phone number down, making sure to avoid writing over the pinup girl tattoo facing you. Once finished, you push the cap back on and place the marker in her open palm.

"For tomorrow," you parrot, giddily watching the flustered look wash over Corky's face. She nods quickly, clutching the marker before stammering for you to follow her so she can take the rest of your payment. You trail behind her, already working out flower combinations in your mind for Corky's bouquet.

Out of all the ones you can think of, cornflowers and roses are the most fitting.

🦇 tag list: @crvptidsmain, @astroph1les, @uraesthete

[matchadobo]

Hello! Is it possible to request Kid X Reader where the Reader is a virgin and Kid is loving and soft with her? I love soft Kid and how you write Kid in general. Thank you!

KIDD; soft and loving kidd

warning/s: nsfw under the cut, afab reader, has sfw (a bit suggestive bUT ONLY A BIT REALLY LIKE 2%) and nsfw hcs, might melt your heart, the red fonts indicate that it is under the previous bullet

SFW

kidd was your first kiss, first love, and first partner

ahh first kiss with kidd, it would be comical. let's just say, kidd would have had ENOUGH of your cuteness and he'd just march in your room while you were doing your hobbies. he would be so fucking red. you asked him if he was drunk and he said yes.

"i'm fucking obsessed with you." he'd say before going on a rant on how pretty your eyes are, how your touch feels like an absolute wildfire, how your smile is too contagious he loses his cool, how your voice is too pleasant to his ears you could talk about total fucking nonsense and he'd still swoon, and how you always look at him with the same love in your eyes

you were so fucking shocked you started crying

he'd just stand there, like a lamp post, while waiting for you to catch your breath and pick up your jaw

"c-can i kiss you? i'll kiss you." kidd waltzed towards you, bending down to your height, lifting your chin and colliding his lips with yours

his lips was soft and tasted sweet, must be lipstick. the rum made it bitter

once he feels you melt into the kiss, he'd smile through it before angling his face on the other side to kiss you better. he figured you didn't know how to kiss 😖

"you go like this, name." he angled his face one more to the other side, puckering up his lips before sucking on your lower lip. "don't freeze like goddamn ice, okay?" he snorted. "move your lips. kiss me. suck it. follow my rhythm." with each phrase, his actions mimicked his words. you were on fucking fire.

it was a pretty long kiss. you soon got the hang of it. once you two pulled away to catch your breath, kidd's heart almost exploded when he saw how swollen your lips are and how flushed your cheeks were. what a fucking darling you are

it would be absurd to think that someone like you would end up with someone like him. a thorn like him with a rose like you

he'd always have a scowl in his face but when he sees you, it loosens up a bit. he turns into a blushing mess at the littles things you do

since he was your first relationship, you were really navigating the boundaries and hows of it. it also took a lot of patience since, well, it was kidd

he wasn't used to having you follow him around all day but he loves it

you weren't used to having him behind you, arms by your side as he caged you. when he feels you up, humming in your ear, and his cologne drives you nuts

he wasn't used to your habits to sit on his lap without warning

you weren't used to have his arm protectively around you at all times

he wasn't used to your kisses on his face, he started getting conscious if he smells good or if his face was clean

you weren't used to having this big bear that clung onto you, keeping your bed warm

he wasn't used to waking up next to you, seeing you with your guard completely down around him

you weren't used to seeing kidd all vulnerable and wasn't scowling, instead letting you witness what he was under all that cold exterior that you warmed up

he wasn't used to feeling all this fuzzy and warm on the inside even if you weren't even here, he constantly yearns for you

you weren't used to dealing with kidd in his snotty attitude, it took a lot to be understanding but kidd also did his best when he saw you struggling. that was a challenge for him too

"come here, bug. gimme a hug."

"got you a new dress, come on i wanna see you wear it."

"you want it? i'll steal it for ya." then he proceeds to use his df to the stores to leave no trace

when kidd was courting you, yes he learned how to court 🥺, he will always bring you tiny flower trinkets. on special days he'd have really intricate jewelery that had flowers or butterflies. he'd earnestly find you and give it to you, insisting that you receive it personally 😖

when you were on your period, he'd tiptoe in taking care of you 🥺. he'd be met by your snappy attitude to which he would usually fight back but would later surrender for your well-being. man, a flower like you taught kidd to surrender 🥰. he'd have chocolate and sweets. if your cramps are really bad, he'll help you fall asleep to numb it away

"here, have some chocolates. snappin' at me would get you nowhere."

"as if i'd be goin' anywhere when you're sleepin'. you're clunging onto me like crazy."

"bought you pads and tampons, quit fuckin' whinin' and just hug me."

when cuddling, he always reaches under your shirt to rub your stomach. his cold hands felt good in your warm tummy. soon enough he'd be reaching over your mounds or somewhere down there 👀

when he kisses you he always wants to have a long, deep kiss before pulling away. he'd wanna have a goodbye forehead kiss when you two part ways and went on back to what you were both doing individually

kidd would LOVE and NEED to spoil you. making you trinkets, buying you stuff, and doing things with you even if he puts on a facade that he doesn't wanna be there. he just loves seeing the joy in your face!

NSFW

oh boy is he starving for you

but he'd patiently wait until you're ready

and when you are, this animal would be unforgiving

he'd go hard on the foreplay, playing with your tits under your shirt as he thrives on the little moans and whimpers you make. he'd overstimulate you so much you'd be too tired for the actual deed

but don't get me wrong he won't be rough, he'll just be doing A LOT of stimulation

he'd kiss you a lot during your first time, periodically checking if you're feeling okay. it'll be sloppy kisses tho, always have saliva trailing down your skin with lip marks

"sure you can handle it, flower?" a mix of genuine concern and teasing

it'd be missionary. as much as he REVERES reverse cowgirl so he has a full view of that cake, he'd want your first to be special. he'd want your first to be completely skin on skin with him, maintaining eye contact as he slides it in, kissing while moving, and holding hands so you'd have something to squeeze onto. he'd press foreheads with you, easing your knitted brows as you try and take him all in, clenching along the way

as aforementioned, he wouldn't have much trouble in sliding himself in despite his size because of the amount of foreplay he did on you

"aren't you a pretty fuckin' sight like this, aye?"

"so well, so fuckin' good, my love."

"you're close? enjoyed yourself too much, aye?"

he'd stay forehead-to-forehead with you, exchanging breaths as you both released in each other. he'd mumble a low "fuck," as you did a last clench around him with your release when you were desperately clawing at his neck and back with the ecstacy. "went a little wild there, princess." he'd kiss your cheek, tucking the hair sticking on your face behind your ear. he'll gently throw you over his shoulder, so as to not hurt your cunt by stretching it more on a bridal carry, and bring you to the bath to wash up with you

helllooo thank you for requesting 🌷 this was soooo fun to make i really miss my boy 😍 thank you for the support anon 🥺

[kiss-theggoat]

I wanna know your opinion on billy loomis getting jealous bc his s/o was hanging out with someone else more often

A/N: Thank you for this request and I can’t handle writing for Billy I’m so in love with him it’s crazy 🧍🏻‍♀️ I might do a pt. 2 to this 😍

Eyes on Me

Billy Loomis X Reader

Word Count: 1K

Summary: Billy hates how much attention you give to that nerd, Randy Meeks.

TW: Possessive Billy, Suggestive, Mainly fluff/domestic stuff

It was a perfect, stormy October evening. You and your beautiful boyfriend Billy had decided to have a night in, watching scary movies and indulging in all of your favorite sweets and snacks. So, in preparation for this date, you two decided it’d be cute to go out and shop for a little bit as couple. Your first destination was the grocery store, where you picked up some popcorn and your favorite candies, watching as Billy tossed one too many chocolate bars into the basket you carried in the crook of your elbow.

And now, you held hands as you browsed through the horror section of the video store, eyes fondly scanning all of the cheesy and brightly colored covers of all the movies on display.

“Hmm…what about The Exorcist?” You asked, grabbing the tape and showing it to Billy, just to be met with his usual unimpressed shrug.

“Just saw it the other night.” He tells you, grabbing a different movie and flipping it over to read the back cover. You set the tape back down and decided to look around the store to see if Randy was working, and to your delight, you saw the spiky haired cinephile just a few feet away, pushing around a cart of rom coms.

“Randy!” You called out, completely abandoning Billy where he stood. Randy stood still for a moment and looked around, seeming alarmed at having his name called until his eyes landed on you. He’d had a crush on you almost the entire year, but he knew better than to mess with Billy.

“Oh hey!” He said fondly, leaning against the cart. “What’s going on?” He asked, immediately cursing himself afterwards for sounding so awkward.

You smiled, motioning towards Billy. “Not much. Just picking out a movie to watch.”

Randy could feel the anger behind Billy’s gaze, his dark brown eyes burning into the side of his face. “O-oh uhm…what are you guys looking for?” Randy asked, even though he already knew.

Billy walked up behind you and snaked a tight arm around your lower waist, yanking you against his body. “Horror.” He said, eyes not moving away from poor Randy’s terrified face.

Randy cleared his throat and gave you a quick glance, but you seemed to be completely oblivious to Billy’s display of ownership. “We uhm…we just got a new slasher in... I’ve never seen it, but it looks pretty good….”

“What? A slasher movie that Randy Meeks has never seen?” You asked with a teasing tone, eyes still focused on Randy. This had Billy absolutely fuming. “We’ll take that one. And I can finally spoil a movie for you for once, not the other way around.” You joked. Randy let out an awkward laugh and knelt down to the bottom shelf of the cart he was pushing, grabbed a tape and handed it to you. It was covered in neon colors, bright red, and a dramatic font splayed across the front.

“Hm. Looks interesting.” You said, setting it down in the basket you held. “Thanks Randy! Hey, I’ll see you at school on Monday!” You said happily, walking back over to the horror section without a second thought about the interaction, not knowing that both men were feeling the tension.

Billy kept a tight arm around your waist and when you got back to the horror section, he whispered so close to you that you could feel his lips against the shell of your ear. “What the hell was that?”

You jumped at the intrusion, turning around to face him, face scrunched in confusion. “What the hell was what?”

“Flirting with Meeks.” He said sternly, eyes dark and lips pressed into a disapproving sneer.

“Flirting with Meeks?” You almost laughed at how surprised you were.

“You talk to him like you just sucked his dick.”

Okay, now that caught you off guard. At first you thought this was sort of funny and a little cute. Billy being a little jealous, but the way he said that to you made you feel…disrespected. You backed up a step and scoffed.

“Billy, what the hell? Randy and I are friends. I’m not allowed to say hi to him?”

Billy rolled his eyes and grabbed another movie off the shelf, tossing it into the basket. He ignored you, a classic Billy comeback.

You grabbed onto Billy’s bicep and shook his arm a little bit, a little, sly smile sneaking onto your face. “You’re so cute when you’re jealous, Billy.”

“I’m not jealous of Meeks.” He grumbled, his back still towards you despite your mighty effort to get him to face you.

“Oh? You’re not? Maybe I should watch movies with Randy then. I’m sure he’d like to come over and sit with us…eat some snacks…maybe we could-“

Before you could finish your thought, Billy grabbed the top of your forearm, finally turning to face you. His grip didn’t hurt, but it was definitely firm. The look in his eyes made shivers go down your spine, and he leaned closer to your face, allowing his breath to fan across your forehead as he spoke to you.

“You just wait until we’re alone.” His tone was low and his voice was gravelly. You felt warmth pool between your legs, and you shyly averted your gaze from Billy’s oppressive stare, but Billy wasn’t having it. His fingers gripped your chin and you felt a slight ache radiate up your cheeks as he yanked your face back towards his.

“Eyes on me.”

As you caught his eyes, you could see and feel the lust behind them, and he leaned closer to you, his hand moving down from your chin, slowly trailing to your neck down the side of your chest and finally resting on your hip. “You’ll be lucky if you make it home.” He growled, pushing you back slightly by the hip. He walked away towards the counter where Randy stood, ringing up another customer.

He left you in the horror aisle, mouth open and face beet red, feeling like you could practically combust at any moment from how he’d just spoken to you. Maybe you’d have to make Billy jealous more often….

[luvpookie02]

He's into you ~ Manjiro Sano x Reader ~ SMUT

001: Betrayals and New Beginnings

It's been five years since you and Mikey broke up, yet the memories still haunt you—his childish, infectious laughter, and that magnetic aura he carried when leading his gang or tearing through the streets on his bike. Those were the things that made you fall for him. Everything had seemed perfect until the day you caught him cheating, and not just with anyone—he was with your best friend. You still remember it vividly: the two of them kissing, oblivious to your presence. But instead of apologizing, Mikey looked at you coldly and insulted you, mocking you in ways that made you question your entire existence.

It wasn't just the betrayal that shattered you—it was how casually he ended things, as if you didn't matter. He had the audacity to break up with you when you had planned to do it yourself, and to make it worse, he threatened you, warning you to never show your face to him again if you had any thoughts of getting back together.

For a time, his words broke you. You were on the verge of ending it all, but thankfully, Emma and Draken stepped in, saving you from the abyss. With their support, you found the strength to move on. You left Tokyo, distancing yourself from the pain and the people who reminded you of it. You flew across Japan, eventually finding success and a sense of peace. A year later, you had reinvented yourself. You were featured in women's magazines as one of Japan's youngest businesswomen, running eight store locations across Paris. People admired you, especially younger women who dreamed of following in your footsteps.

Your life felt perfect, and you even found love again. Your new boyfriend treated you like a queen—everything was just as you had always wanted.

One day, while at your office, you heard a commotion coming from the store floor. Quickly, you stood and rushed outside. Your eyes narrowed as you saw one of your staff members, Mika, crying as she stood before a middle-aged woman who was waving her finger in her face, clearly scolding her. You sighed, murmuring to yourself, "Too early for a Karen."

"Excuse me, ma'am," you interrupted the woman, forcing a polite smile despite her obvious disdain as she crossed her arms over her chest, her expression screaming entitlement.

She raised one eyebrow and sneered. "Are you the store manager?"

You nodded, keeping your tone light. "I'm actually the owner. Is there anything I can help you with?"

She took a step closer, her breath hot and unpleasant in your face. You remained calm, though in your mind, you were thinking, Your breath stinks, you old hag. Back up before I stab your eye. Of course, you wouldn't act on such thoughts—after all, she was still a customer. Your mafia upbringing, though tempting, had been left behind at Mikey's request. Even though he betrayed you, you had stayed true to your promise to steer clear of that world.

The woman's loud voice cut through your thoughts. "This bitch won't accept my coupon," she snapped, jabbing her finger toward Mika.

You glanced at the coupon she waved around. "I'm sorry, ma'am, but we don't accept coupons here."

Her eyes bulged in outrage. "WHAT? What kind of store doesn't accept coupons? And LOOK! It has your store's name on it!"

You calmly examined the slip she held. The design was amateurish, the font mismatched, and your store's name was misspelled. It was clearly a fake.

"I'm afraid this isn't a valid coupon, ma'am. Our store doesn't offer discounts like this, and the grammar and spelling errors are... well, quite telling. If you don't want to get into legal trouble for using fraudulent coupons, I suggest you leave." Your voice was firm but composed, your words leaving no room for argument.

The woman glared daggers at you before muttering curses under her breath and storming out of the store.

"Y/N-san, that was amazing!" Mika exclaimed, her eyes wide with admiration.

You chuckled. "Karen encounters always make my day," you joked, although in the back of your mind, you couldn't help but mentally murder each one you came across. The staff around you laughed, the tension lifting, and this moment of camaraderie was one of the reasons your stores thrived. You always made sure to keep the atmosphere light and positive, no matter what.

After handling the chaos, you left the store, entrusting the closing duties to your manager, Miko. Tonight, you had plans, and you needed to prepare.

After a 40-minute shower, you slipped into a tight yellow dress that hugged your curves and paired it with three-inch heels. Once satisfied with your appearance, you drove for thirty minutes, anxiety gnawing at you the closer you got to the club. As you parked, you leaned your head on the steering wheel, your heart racing as you imagined every possible worst-case scenario that could happen tonight.

A sudden knock on your window startled you. You turned to see your friend Yoru, knocking loudly and grinning mischievously.

"Yoru! What the fuck? You scared the hell out of me!" you exclaimed, stepping out of the car.

"Relax, hothead," she teased, clearly already tipsy.

Before you could respond, a familiar voice called out, "What are you guys doing out here? Let's get inside and fuck some bitches!"

You both turned to see a guy walking toward you, and your eyes widened.

"Takuya?" you both shouted in unison, surprised to see him here.

You fist-bumped him as he approached. "Yoo, didn't know you were already here."

You had met Takuya two years ago at a business party, and the two of you had hit it off immediately. He was the son of the CEO of Twilight Entertainment, a fact he kept hidden from most people. Over time, you had become close friends, talking about everything from business to personal secrets.

As you looked at him, something caught your eye. You noticed the obvious bulge in his pants and laughed, "Takuya, are you seriously hard already?"

Both Yoru and Takuya turned red with embarrassment, but Yoru burst into laughter, teasing him. "You fucking pervert!"

Takuya, flustered, quickly changed the subject. "I can't wait any longer. Let's go inside!"

You followed him into the club, where the pounding music immediately filled your ears. Boys flocked toward you as you entered, but your attention was elsewhere. You felt the anxiety return as you scanned the room. Something wasn't right.

Your heart dropped when your eyes landed on two familiar faces across the room—two purple-haired men lounging with women on their laps.

"Y/N? What's wrong? You look like you've seen a ghost," Yoru asked, noticing your sudden change in demeanor.

Ignoring her, you stared at the brothers. "What the hell are the Haitani brothers doing here?"

[elliott-the-creature]

My request requirements!✨

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What I do requests of:

Moodboards

Wallpapers

Banners

Userboxes

Flags (pride flags, plural flags, agere/petre flags, etc.)

Pfp (basically the image with line redraws on it and any little icons you want + pride flags if you want)

Outfit boards

Topics of requests I do:

Therian

Otherkin

Theriomythic

Physical nonhumanity/holothere/clinical lycanthropy/zoanthropy

Otherlink/copinglink/funlink

Plantkin/phytanthrope

Objectkins

Conceptkins

Elementkins

Aesthethickins

Divinekin (includes angels, demons, gods/goddesses, fallen angels, and other divine beings)

Placekin

Unnaturalkin

Celestial/spacekin

Fictionkin/fictionflicker/fictive

Otherhearted

Hearthomes

Pet regression/dreaming

Age regression/dreaming

Aesthetics

Objectum (sfw ONLY)

POSIC+

LGBTQIA+ identities (any and all identities, I don’t discriminate!)

Plural stuff

And more! Feel free to suggest any more topics, I’m pretty open to any suggestions.

Topics I DON’T do requests for:

Anything nsfw (including kinks, paraphilias, nsfw objectum, and other sexual stuff)

Adult/adult oriented comedy cartoons (like family guy, the simpsons, south park, big mouth, bojack horseman, american dad, king of the hill, etc.). I find these shows to be often crude, gross, and overall unappealing, so please find another blog if you want to request stuff like this.

Harmful/mocking sexualities/gender identities (like super straight, dreamsexual, MAPS, animesexual, etc.)

DSMP stuff (or any minecraft smp stuff) (regular minecraft is completely fine though!)

Anything roblox or roblox related (it can be very hard to find pictures of characters to use for wallpapers/moodboards without using fanart, and I want to avoid fanart as much as possible, so I sadly can’t do it)

Harry Potter (or anything else made by or associated with JKR)

Hazbin Hotel/Helluva Boss stuff (basically anything made by and/or associated with vivziepop)

Countries or nationalistic stuff. You should’ve read my DNI/DNF before asking me stuff

Real people. I don’t feel comfortable making stuff related to real people (like artists, celebrities, youtubers, writers, etc.). That basically means no factkins; I’m factkin neutral but I don’t want these kinds of requests.

If you have any questions about whether the topic you want is ok or not, please dm me beforehand.

Things to add in your ask:

For moodboards

What the topic is (like if it’s a kintype, favourite animal, aesthetic, hearthome, object companion, etc.)

What the main subject is

What theming/colour palette you want

How many pictures you want

Whether you want a standard (regular square pictures) or fancy (different shapes for pictures) moodboard

Anything you DON’T want in your board

For wallpapers/banners

What the topic is (like if it’s a kintype, favourite animal, aesthetic, hearthome, object companion, etc.)

What the main subject is

What theming/colour palette you want

Whether you want symbols/extra stuff on it

Formatting of your wallpaper (like whether it’s a phone, ipad, desktop, etc. (saying what specific kind of device you have is best))

Whether you use tumblr for mobile or desktop (banner sizes change depending on device)

Anything you DON’T want on it

For userboxes

What icon you want

What you want the text to say (or a sorta vibe to what you want the text to say if you don’t know exactly what you want)

What kind of font you want (I use ibis paint btw so keep that in mind)

What you what the background/theming to be

What colour you want the text box to be

Whether you want stickers (a little png of a related object near the corner of the box) or not

Anything you DON’T want on it

For flags

What flag you want

Whether it is a redesign or something new

What colour scheme you want

How many stripes you want (I mainly do 4, 5, 7, and 9 stripes)

What kind of icon/symbol you want

Anything you DON’T want on it

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Please only request TWO (2) things per ask! And if you’re requesting only wallpapers, then only ONE (1) wallpaper request per ask.

Anonymous questions are currently unavailable. If you wish to remain anonymous, please just mention it in your ask, I’m happy to do so :)

Anything I make for someone is ONLY FOR THAT PERSON. You are NOT ALLOWED to use anything I make for someone for yourself. If you want anything similar, please send a request.

.•°°•..•°°•..•°°•..•°•. .•°°•..•°°•..•°°•..•°•. .•°°•..•°

↓ some examples of my works below! ↓

click here to go to my side account (I ONLY take requests from there)

Enjoy, and ask away! ✏️

[thedroneranger]

Pages In-between

Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Synopsis: Mrs. Seresin is a hard person to surprise. However, stealing a page from her book, Jake may have managed to catch his wife off guard.

Notes: Here is entry one of two for @roosterforme's '80s Rocktober challenge! The song is Centerfold by J. Geils Band. Part of the To-do List collection.

Warnings: 18+ only; smut.

Word count: 3.8k.

Mrs. Seresin did a little happy dance as she stuck the key in the lock and opened the door of her PO box. This was the last time she would have to stop by the post office to pick up her business mail. A smile pulled her lips as she cradled all the mail in one hand and locked the box with the other.

She was also delighted by the thought of all her sample books and design digests moving to her new studio. Now, she and Jake had more room for collector edition novels and travel tchotchkes in their home office. Jake was returning tonight from a week-long training and had promised to help pack. He might’ve been more excited than her that she was finally getting a studio. 

Jake never stood in the way of her career, but he did voice his opinion about her need for more separation between work and home. Yes, she had an office—they technically shared the space—but sometimes work spilled into other areas of the house. And Jake knew she was overworking when he was away.

Today’s mail drop was sizable and included a few new sample books. A couple of her monthly subscriptions also arrived. She’d have time to thoroughly sort when she got home. Jake wasn’t due back until later.

Once home, she parked in the garage and was greeted by Ruck when she entered the house. She spent a few minutes loving him before going upstairs to change. Ruck on her heels, she returned to the garage to get the mountain of mail. Back inside, she stood at the kitchen island and sorted.

A sample book for a new tile company’s latest collection. The wallpaper samples a client requested. Pantone’s interiors collection for the new year. New editions of Dwell and Architectural Digest. The last piece of mail was wrapped in an opaque poly plastic bag. Going for ease, she fished scissors out of the drawer beside her and sliced off the crimp.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she said aloud as she pulled a glossy magazine out of the wrapper. Staring back at her was a shirtless Jake, wearing Wranglers with his thumbs hooked in the belt loops. He donned his favorite Stetson and had a toothpick dangling from his lips. The title Flyboy was printed above his head in a font that mimicked the infamous Playboy.

A smile plastered on her face, she sighed as she flipped it open. As tempted as she was to immediately look at the centerfold, she browsed the articles and features first. Jake put a lot of thought into Flyboy—from the photos to the articles and down to the barcode, which included their wedding date.

Now she understood why she’d been banned from his calendar photoshoot.

Every year, the Lemoore-based strike fighter squadrons competed to raise money for charity. By New Year’s Eve each year, the squadrons were expected to present a check for at least $12,000 to the charity of their choice. The three years previous, Jake’s squadron, the VFA-151 Vigilantes, had at least doubled the minimum expected donation. The squadron’s creative approaches to raising funds not only brought in a lot of money but made them the reigning champions. 

Over the years, the Seresin became a staple in the competition. Year 1, Mrs. Seresin pitched the Commander to allow the Vigilantes to participate in a date auction. The night was memorable not only because the squadron raised $64,000, but also because Mrs. Seresin got into a bidding war with the Commander’s ex-wife over Jake. The victor, she got kudos from the Commander for putting his pain-in-the-ass ex in her place.

The following year, Jake suggested weekend car washes from Memorial Day to Labor Day. The weekends he and Mrs. Seresin volunteered were always the highest grossing. When Mrs. Seresin couldn’t join him, he was sure to send her pictures of him and the rest of the squad posing in black triangle bikini tops.

For Year 3, the squadron was cleared to host an air show. It got so much publicity that the Navy decided its official demo squadron, the Blue Angels, would participate. Obsessed with the Blue Angels as a child, Jake nearly blacked out when he was presented with an honorary patch for flying alongside them.

No one thought the Vigilantes would be able to top the air show for Year 4. However, inspired by an anniversary gift from his wife, Jake proposed a calendar. Twelve months, 12 pilots. After the initial laughter, everyone was sold.

When Jake told his Mrs. Seresin, she immediately sprung into action to assist. By the time Jake left for work the next morning, she had secured a pro bono photographer and had plans to dress the sets and pilots. Jake knew his wife was a force, but she never ceased to amaze him. She had to shoo him out of the house before he was late for work, because he was showering her in physical gratitude. 

Mrs. Seresin couldn’t help but smile as she thought about all the late nights and takeout. Ann, her long-time friend, agreed to be the photographer and de facto assistant art director. Mrs. Seresin and Ann had staged and shot so many home and business interiors together, they lost count. They were excited to tackle a new frontier.

However, Mrs. Seresin did not get to conquer the frontier that was Jake in front of the camera. When he asked her to not attend his shoot because he wanted to surprise her, she choked down her disappointment and respected his wishes. 

However, her disappointment was in the rearview mirror the minute she saw Jake’s photo at the reveal party. Clad in just his dress whites pants, Jake’s megawatt smile lit the image while he kneeled alongside Ruck. Tongue lolling out of his mouth, Ruck was also smiling at the camera. 

To top it off, Jake was the pilot for December, Mrs. Seresin’s birthday month. “An early birthday gift,” Jake called it as he hugged her to his side and kissed her temple. 

That night was for Jake and the rest of the squad, but Mrs. Seresin felt like the real winner.

After its release, the Vigilante calendar took social media by storm. It was easily their most successful campaign, raking in over six figures. And of course, Jake and Ruck became everyone’s favorite duo. 

Although Jake wasn’t on social media, and Mrs. Seresin kept her social footprint strictly business, the internet sleuths still found them. Fortunately, they were respectful of their boundaries. Even more surprising, learning Jake was married and that Ruck was Mrs. Seresin’s dog just made folks swoon harder.

An hour after opening the mail, Mrs. Seresin was tucked on the couch, wine in hand, and reading Flyboy cover to cover. Ruck laid at her feet and lifted his head every now and then to confirm her noises weren’t duress.

Mrs. Seresin held the magazine sideways to take in the centerfold in all its glory. Jake was standing naked in the foreground of a hangar with his helmet perfectly positioned to keep the photo modest and have his call sign on full display. His signature smile, sandwiched between deep dimples, added to the cheekiness of the missing vowels on his helmet. She couldn’t help but smile.

Jake knew the magazine arrived today. His grip on the steering wheel tightened as he thought about her reading it. It wasn’t the pictures he was nervous about, it was the pages in between. 

Curating Flyboy was a trip down memory lane for Jake. He spent time scrolling through their shared memories and writing his perspective of their adventures. It was fun, and he even decided to start a journal.

Jake was confident the magazine caught her off guard. His birthday plan was unfolding perfectly. He was hoping his outfit, his flight suit, was the second punch of a one-two celebration combination. The cherry on top was riding shotgun: a half dozen her favorite donuts. 

Since her birthday was two days after Christmas, Jake vowed to keep her birthday separate from the holidays. To honor that, he always celebrated with her in early December. More used to having her birthday swept under the rug, it was the first time in their relationship Jake was able to surprise her.

The truck headlights lit the closed garage door as Jake pulled into the driveway. Once parked, he slipped out of the vehicle and prepared for Mrs. Seresin’s three-legged protector, Ruck, to greet him. Inside, while Jake shed his things at the door, Ruck nosed the donut box. Jake had bought a doggie donut so Ruck could celebrate, too. Package inspected and approved, Ruck led the way to the living room. 

Mrs. Seresin was flipping through what Jake assumed was his magazine. She glanced up to find him swaggering over in his flight suit—the top tied around his waist—and a black t-shirt, holding a box. “Hey, flyboy.” Her voice was sultry. “Or should I say coverboy.” Jake couldn’t help but smile, and she mirrored his expression. 

“Happy birthday, baby.” He flipped open the box. Her face lit up as she stood to get a donut. Jake watched as she selected her favorite and happily took a huge bite. While she chewed it, she turned the pastry to feed Jake. He obliged. 

She tucked a couple fingers in the waist of his flight suit and led him to the couch. Jake placed the donuts on the coffee table and traded her donut for Ruck’s treat. She smiled and fed it to him. Jake’s heart swelled at how gentle Ruck was with her. She finished her donut nestled under Jake’s arm with Ruck’s head in her lap. She fed Jake the last bite. After swallowing, he leaned in to plant a sugary kiss on her lips and murmur one more “happy birthday”.

“Can I unwrap my present?” She smirked at him.

Jake grinned. “You already did.” He tipped his head toward the magazine on the table. Mrs. Seresin leaned forward to grab the magazine, and then returned to her spot under Jake’s arm. Casually, she flipped the pages. “Do you like it?” Jake questioned.

“Love it,” she quickly answered. She looked at him with the biggest smile. He leaned down again and pressed his lips to hers. “So thoughtful. So personal. So hot,” she said between kisses. “But you really didn’t drive home in your suit flight for me?” Her lips pulled into a pout. “I know this is a clean suit. You don’t reek of jet fuel.” Jake wordlessly responded, his bottom lip disappeared behind his teeth as he smiled.

“What was your favorite article?” Jake asked, unfazed.

“Ruck’s, of course.” Jake scrunched his nose at her. She chuckled and returned to lazily flipping the pages. “I also liked reminiscing about our honeymoon. You picked some exclusive photos.” Jake flashed a toothy grin as she looked back at him. He had included some photos he took of Mrs. Seresin on the private yacht they stayed on for their French Riviera honeymoon.

His personal favorite was her draped nude on a deck lounge chair with her legs butterflied while she pleasured herself—her hand tastefully covered her core. “I’d love to recreate some of those by the pool,” he responded. 

“Mhmm,” Mrs. Seresin replied, still flipping through the magazine. “Or on another yacht. We do have a milestone anniversary coming up,” she reminded him. Jake responded by placing a kiss to her temple.

“Your photos were nice, too,” she added, making eye contact with him and sticking her tongue out. He squeezed her closer and tried to playfully catch her tongue but captured her bottom lip instead. She leaned into the kiss, bringing a hand to the side of his face. Carefully, Jake removed the periodical from her lap as she slid onto his. 

Straddling him, she cradled his face in her hands as she deepened the kiss. Magazine safely on the coffee table, Jake slipped his hands under her shirt—one of his Academy shirts—and his thumbs dipped into the waistband of her bike shorts to rub the soft skin of her lower belly. His thumbs circled lower and confirmed his suspicion—no panties. 

She rolled her pelvis into his as she kissed him harder. He moaned, and Mrs. Seresin thought she might come right then. She pulled away, mouth agape, and sat back on his lap. “Get this off.” She demanded as she helped strip him of his t-shirt. “Just like the magazine.” She referred to the picture of Jake shirtless with his flight suit tied around his waist. In the photo his suit was so dangerously low that, with his thumb hooked in the roll, you could see his tiny “Bite me” tattoo. 

She rubbed herself all over Jake as they continued to make out. Jake’s hands alternated between squeezing her ass and wandering up her shirt. He quickly learned she wasn’t wearing a bra and was doing his best to coax her out of her top. 

She whined and tangled her fingers in his locks, pulling his head back and breaking their kiss. “I want to feel more of your skin.” Jake punctuated his statement by palming her ass.

“It’s not your birthday, you don’t get to make demands.” She ground herself more in his lap, making him groan.

“Not a demand, just a suggestion,” Jake responded. She loosened her grip on him, allowing him to dip his head toward her chest. She watched as he found one of her taut nipples through the fabric. Gently, he tugged it with his teeth. She bit her bottom lip as she enjoyed the sensation. 

“Jake.” She drew out his name as her head tipped back. He switched to the other nipple. “Fuck.” She quickly ripped her shirt overhead, and he gladly mouthed her bare chest. As he licked and sucked and massaged, she found a rhythm rolling her pelvis against his.

Mrs. Seresin slowly halted her hips and curled her fingers back into Jake’s hair to pull him away from her chest. Jake looked up at her—lips puffy and cheeks a little flush. He whined when she wiggled out of his lap. 

She stood and slowly began to slide off her bike shorts as she sauntered out of his reach. She even turned so he could see her tattoo appear on the swell of her backside as she slowly slid the fabric down. Once her shorts were around her ankles, she stepped out of them. 

“C’mon, coverboy.” Back still to Jake, she come-hithered him over her shoulder as she strutted away. Jake immediately knew where she was leading him. He practically jumped off the couch and ran after her. She squealed when his arm snaked around her middle, and he carried her sideways into their office. 

There were boxes—half full, empty, flat packed—strewn around the room. Otherwise, the office was in its usual decadence. The floor-to-ceiling windows, looking out to the secluded backyard, letting the moonlight flood the space.

Jake marched past their desk, over to the windows and set Mrs. Seresin on her feet. He soaked in her naked form as he held her until she was steady. Jake was distracted by her curves illuminated in the night light. She got his attention back by tugging on his arm as she turned to face him. Jake made eye contact with her as his hands continued to traverse her body. He could feel the incremental movements of her muscles. 

“You ok?” She asked as she wrapped her arms around his neck and moved a stray lock of hair away from his face. 

Jake engulfed her in his arms and pulled her into his chest. Her head was tipped completely back. “Never better.” His voice was heavy with lust. She smiled as his lips met hers for a lingering kiss. “Is it my birthday or yours?” he asked as they separated. 

She smirked and nipped his lip. “It’s definitely mine.” She slipped out of his arms. He watched as she pressed her back flush to the cool windows. “Your flight suit looks good on, but take it off for me, coverboy,” she said.

Even in the low light, Jake’s smile was beaming. Jake’s movements were antagonistically slow as he loosened the fabric and pushed it down his body. She couldn’t help but smile as he mimicked her earlier motions, slowly revealing his tattoo. 

Flight suit abandoned, he stalked toward her, holding eye contact. His cock bounced against his abdomen with each step. Back and palms still flush to the glass, she craned her head back to maintain eye contact as Jake approached. He leaned down for a kiss. A large hand softly cupped the column of her throat. Jake had her pinned between him and the window with his length resting against her belly. She squeezed her thighs together as their make out intensified.

He couldn’t wait any longer. Jake pulled back. “Turn.” His voice was deep. She obeyed and supported herself with her forearms against the glass as she bent and arched her back.

Mrs. Seresin closed her eyes and remembered to breathe as Jake easily slid to the hilt. “You’re so wet,” Jake praised as he began a slow pace. One hand returning to her throat. “Did you work yourself up looking at my photos, thinking about what’s behind that helmet?” Jake rhetorically asked as he gently squeezed her neck. He snapped his hips, making her whimper. He smiled, feeling the hum against his fingers.

For leverage, Jake placed a hand beside hers on the window, and slipped the other around her front between her legs. She moaned and squeezed her eyes closed as his calloused fingers drew tight circles on her clit. Jake smiled into her shoulder as he felt her push onto her toes to chase the friction of his fingers.

Together they found a perfect rhythm. Jake continued to pepper her with praise and move with her. Eventually, Mrs. Seresin had her cheek and chest pressed against the window. She moaned with each thrust. Jake knew if they kept this positioned he’d come before her. 

She gasped but stayed pressed to the window as Jake dropped to his knees. Spreading her with his thumbs, he lapped her from behind. She keened as she arched her back more to give him better access. Jake shifted slightly so his tongue dipped into her.

That was all Mrs. Seresin needed. Jake stilled and let her bounce up and down on his tongue. Mrs. Seresin grew louder with each bob. Palms pressed to the glass, she rested her chin on it as she quickened her pace. Finally, her hips stuttered and she slowed her motions as waves of pleasure rolled through her. 

Jake popped to his feet and quickly slipped his cock into her throbbing heat. “Yes,” he hissed as her walls squeezed him. A few thrusts and he pumped her full of cum.

He groaned as his body eclipsed hers against the glass. After he caught his breath, he kissed her shoulders. She groaned, lifting her head off the window to look over her shoulder. 

“Happy birthday,” Jake said before he pressed his lips to hers. 

“A happy birthday, indeed.” She returned to her position against the window. 

Quickly, Jake slipped out of her and scooped into her his arms to avoid dripping any cum on the floor. She relaxed into him as he carried her to their bedroom. He deposited her on the bed before getting a washcloth to clean her up. 

Cleaned up, he tossed her favorite of his shirts at her before disappearing back into the bathroom. When he returned she was already curled under the blankets. Jake tossed on a shirt and shorts and headed downstairs to let Ruck out. 

While Ruck was in the yard, Jake went to the garage and unloaded the last of Mrs. Seresin’s gifts. He set them in the office out of the way. She could open them in the morning. 

Their little secret, Jake treated Ruck to one more donut before they headed back to the bedroom. Ruck tucked himself in his bed on Mrs. Seresin’s side of the bed as Jake slipped under the covers and spooned his wife. 

She turned to face him. “Thank you.” She gave him a quick kiss before flipping back over to tuck herself against him. 

“You’re welcome.” Jake pressed one more kiss to her temple, and then listened to her breathing as he fell asleep. 

The next morning, Jake still asleep, she wandered downstairs to make coffee. While she waited for his pour-over, she picked up the remnants of last night. Retracing their steps, she picked up clothes and folded them. As she entered the office, she kept her sights on Jake’s crumpled flight suit. She folded it, a smile tugging her lips as she thought about last night. Her smile became a full fledged smirk as she noticed all the body part prints on the glass.

As she turned to leave, something leaning against the bookshelves caught her eye. Those were not there last night. Two very large packages. She walked over with a hand extended, fingers ready to graze the paper, when she heard, “Go ahead, open them.” 

Startled, she jumped back, clapped a hand over her heart and turned to find Jake. His grin outdoing the Cheshire Cat, he leaned against the door frame with a mug in each hand. She caught her breath as Jake sauntered over. He handed her a mug and pressed his lips to her forehead. 

“These are your last gifts,” Jake said. She threw him a look as she walked back toward the packages. Perching her cup on a shelf, she dipped her fingers behind one of the folds and tore the wrapping. She couldn’t help but laugh as she caught sight of her own face staring at her. 

Quickly, she tore through the paper to reveal framed prints of her draped naked across the hood of Jake’s vintage Mustang and him naked, holding his helmet and smirking. Their centerfolds.

“Where were you thinking we would hang these?” She gathered her coffee and stepped back beside Jake so they could view their photos together.

He shrugged. They looked at each other. “You’re the designer, and it’s your birthday, so you get to pick.”

“I’ll think about it.” They both smiled as she bounced onto her toes to give him a quick peck. 

“One more thing,” he said as they parted. She waited for him to continue. “You can’t hang yours in the garage.” She arched an eyebrow. “I don’t want the neighbor boys trying to sneak a peek when the garage opens and closes.” She burst into laughter. 

“I love you,” she replied. Jake feigned confusion as she kissed his cheek. Together, they sipped their coffees and chatted about where to hang the photos. 

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