#[ i feel like this is how mai looks like everywhere she goes just a little wind blowing into her hair ]

[demaparbat-hp]

Hiya!! 👋🏼😄 How's it going? Your fashion taste for Zuko in a Modern AU seems to be artsy, or maybe "formal" is the word. That shirt he wore when he gave Sokka romantic song advice looked Versace🧐. Anyway, I was wondering how you came up with it, he always struck me more as the type that didn´t care much about fashion, so I'm curious about other´s opinions and heacanons about it. And do you have any other fashion headcanons for the rest of the GAang? Also, their music tastes. How did you come up with them? Especially Katara's! 😍

Hello! As it happens, I have a lot of Thoughts and Feelings™ about this, so I'm leaving these over here, and the rest of my ramblings down below the cut!

Let us begin with the Gaang, shall we?

SUKI always struck me as that Pretty Girl from the Gym. She is so incredibly fit it isn't even funny. She could kick anyone's ass, and we'd all thank her. She has this casual gym style that somehow always looks glorious on her, as it should! Comfy yet fashionable clothes for a nice workout or a day in town.

Her music tastes are basically any and all power songs from the eighties and nineties. (Eye of the Tiger, anyone?) She also enjoys metal via Toph, and bands like BSB, NSYNC, or Boyz II Men with Katara. My girl has a very eclectic Playlist and we all love her for it.

SOKKA is That Guy™. Loose T-shirts and shorts everywhere he goes, no matter the weather. He's stupidly into fashion but it doesn't show! At all! And everyone teases him about it. His closet is about 90% Cactus Juice merchandise, hence the "it's the quenchiest!" shirt.

His fashion and music tastes are pretty much the same. He loves poetry but isn't really into lyrics. He'll misinterpret just about anything you place in front of him. His Playlist is mostly vibes and tiktok songs he kind of enjoys. He isn't really into music...at least not as much as his sister.

AANG owns exactly one hoodie, one pair of shorts, and one beanie (THE beanie). Oh, and the crocs—don't forget the crocs. Somehow, he's always wearing the exact same outfit. Every. Single. Day. Ancient Gaang lore suggests that the day Aang goes out without his beanie, it's the end of the world.

His Playlist is the poppiest, most bizarre thing ever. Every single song is Happy by Pharrell Williams levels of happy. Yet sometimes, among the bouncy dance-to songs, you'll find the strangest of things... (He does know what Good Day by Twenty One Pilots is about. That's the reason he likes it so much, actually. And it's so weird.)

KATARA is all about sundresses and loose pants. The epitome of comfortable loveliness. Light fabrics in blue shades, careful embroidery, delicate shoes, and little to no accessories—hers is a simple, yet quite adorable, style. She just needs to add more colors to her usual palette...

She is, first and foremost, a Florence + The Machine girl. It's the Dark Goddess of the Sea vibes, to be honest. Florence Welch is her idol and yes, she will fight you about lyrics interpretation, and win. It may not seem like it, but her music tastes are also very varied.

She draws a little from each member of the Gaang, so you'll hear her humming along to Gorillaz (where did you even find out about them, Aang?), The Weeknd (I...don't think this song means what you think it means, Sokka...), and Hozier (Zuko why did you dedicate Talk to me, Zuko WHAT DID YOU MEAN BY THAT).

TOPH...ah, lovely girl. I'll summarise everything about Toph’s fashion sense in two words: comfort and rebellion. Stuffy dresses forced on her by billionaire parents? No thank you! Give her tank tops with loose shirts and short pants. Bandaids shared with Aang, bracelets from Katara, and even piercings she got in tandem with Sokka. Shoes? What even is that?

Something I love about this fandom is our collective agreement that Toph is into the dirtiest, heaviest, most ear-splitting and soul-crushing death metal of all times. Her Playlist is full of the most obscure names to ever exist, and she can and will blast through your walls with the sheer volume of her speaker.

Zuko. ZUKO.

Even in a modern AU my boy must suffer. That being said, I envision Tales from the Couch as—well, exactly what it is: an ATLA modern AU. While there is not a war to fight, and a lot of plot lines are discarded or expanded upon, much about the core story remains the same.

This is my way of saying that Zuko still goes trough his redemption arc, and it reflects on his fashion choices.

The way you described it works perfectly because of one single reason: in this AU, Zuko is an artist. He had to suppress his love for writing and drawing because of his background and the expectations Ozai had for him (taking over the family company), and a very large part of his redemption arc directly affects his relationship with art.

In the Couch equivalent of S1, Zuko has fallen out of Ozai's graces, and is desperate to protect his place in the company and the Kasai household. He's pretending to be someone he isn't and trying to live up to his Father's image of a perfect heir while still being somewhat cut-off financially, and it shows.

He's all about imposing long coats and a semi-formal style, imitating what he knows Azula and Father would respect. He's striking and sharp and dark. But no matter how he dresses or carries himself (that air of cold superiority and arrogance)—it won't help him when he needs it the most.

In S2, Zuko has hit his lowest point. He's officially disinherited and tossed away by his father, and would be out in the streets if it wasn't for Uncle Iroh. He goes from sharp, high-tailored outfits to old second-hand clothes that hang loosely on his frame. He starts smoking and cuts his hair off, forgoing the undercut for the first time in years.

But then...Father accepts him back. When Zuko returns home, it's with respect to his name and a very high position in his father's company. He's finally the perfect Kasai heir, dressed in overly expensive suits and finery, even at home... But Father forbids him from wearing Lu Ten's earring, and Zuko can no longer recognize himself without the familiar glint of gold dancing on his peripheral vision.

When Zuko leaves the Kasai name behind him and goes back to living with Uncle Iroh...he's finally at peace with who he is, and what he wants in this life. The sharp edges aren't gone (they'll always be a part of him, after all), but now they're dulled by looser clothes and softer hairstyles.

He's an artist, and for once in his life, he is determined to pursue his own ambitions. Zuko's outfits may not be designer-made anymore, but he takes what he has and makes himself look like he wants to look, like the person he wants to be.

He doesn't read fashion magazines or keeps up to the latest trends like Azula does. He's just...Zuko. And his newfound confidence makes everything he wears look like it belongs on him.

As for music...well, Ursa raised a literature boy.

He loves lyric-heavy music and natural voices, be they soothing or powerful. Dissecting song meanings and possible interpretations with Katara is one of his favorite parts of the day. They're both very passionate and strong-minded individuals, so it stands to reason that their debates can get quite...heated.

Zuko's Playlist is both incredibly eclectic and somehow very...him. There's a common thread that binds together every song and artist he likes, and he's hilariously unaware of this. To take a look into his Playlist is a higher honor reserved only for those closest to him.

In the wide spectrum of things, it is no wonder that Zuko is, first and foremost, a Hozier man. But though Andrew is his God in all aspects of this life, there's someone else that has had a huge impact on him...

Two someones, actually.

Zuko refuses to tell anyone how he got into Twenty One Pilots, but it's kind of a moot point when the beginning of his obsession is nothing compared to everything that came after. They have just about the right amount of everything that makes Zuko...well, Zuko. The poetic lyrics, the soothing or raging music, the heavy, intensely resonant themes...

Up there, in the second artwork, I placed an album cover behind each period of Zuko's life. The election of these records is intentional, as I feel like their general themes work incredibly well with Zuko's arc and growth.

Blurryface in S1. For the demons within us. For giving a name to our fears and shame.

Trench in S2. For escaping the confined walls of a depression city, and fighting to understand the depths of the map of your mind.

Scaled and Icy in the first half of S3. For returning to places you had left behind. For convincing yourself and everyone around you that you're fine, that you're perfect, even though everything is crumbling inside...

Clancy in S3. For recognizing that you can backslide, that you can have fears and shame and pain—but you're shaping yourself with each step you take. For knowing that seeking help from others is okay. Nobody learns to walk on their own.

(And, in the end, you'll always be better than the person you were yesterday. If only because you're still here. You're still alive. You're still yourself.)

.

Overall, I rambled a bit too much, don't you think?

If you made it all the way down here—thank you so much for reaching out and being interested in this crazy AU! I hope you enjoy these ideas and tell me some of your own ❤️

[eatfishies]

Black Lace and Trouble All Over Your Face 🔞

summary: A black lace underwear vs a lust-driven Sylus.

or

He may or may not have seen a peek of what you wore beneath your dress.

word count: 2.5k tags: NSFW, sylus x reader (afab), no plot just filth, oral sex, cunnilingus, clit play, swearing, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, squirting and ejaculation, overstimulation, choking, blowjobs, slight fluff, panty kink (?), deepthroating, pet names, nipple play, established relationship, creampie, degradation fish notes: please and PLEASE heed the tags oki !! only read if ur comfy but yes anyways i decided to share my smutty sylus fic here too ^__^ forgive me if it's a lil rusty, i haven't wrote in awhile T__T ── ao3 link ★ ˙ ̟ song recs: guess by charli xcx

She honestly didn’t know how it even came to this point. From trying on an innocent dress to now, laying and spreading out before the most fearful man in the whole N109 Zone. And yet, Sylus finds her the prettiest like this — flustered and bewildered. The dress she was trying on hiked up a bit, showing off her bare, smooth legs.

Sylus could no longer ignore the gnawing primal hunger he feels towards her. It was torturous, having to hold back his desires and maintain a facade of nonchalance when all he wanted was to ravage her and make her feel like she’s on top of the world.

Her breath hitched in her throat as she stared at him. Red eyes swirling with multitude of thoughts. “W- what are you doing…?” She asked, slightly confused, yet mildly curious. Of course, she knew what he was thinking about it, she’s not entirely dumb.

Sylus traced her jaw ever so softly. “Don’t play coy with me, kitten. You knew what you were doing wearing this dress.”

Well, it wasn’t really a revealing dress per se, it’s just that… she was in the middle of picking up her phone that had dropped to the floor when he walked in on her. Bent down and revealing a peek of what’s underneath her cute little dress. Sylus briefly caught a glimpse of a black lace underwear, but he couldn’t be too sure. He needed to see it for himself to confirm his suspicions.

If only Sylus hadn’t come home at this exact moment, then maybe she wouldn’t have been in this exact predicament. Not that she’s complaining much but she is more or less a little bit surprised that it took Sylus longer than she anticipated to make a move. For someone so bold with his adoration towards her, he is awfully slow when it comes to voicing out his inner desires. Perhaps this train of thought goes way deeper and… dirtier than it seemed.

“I really don’t know what you’re talking about. I was just trying on a cute dress I had just bought online. It’s not my fault you saw my underwear. You should’ve knocked before you entered anyways.” She spoke, trying to remain casual and calm but only he knows how fast her composure is slipping the more she is pinned beneath him.

He only smirked, as he wasn’t particularly phased or bothered by it. The tent on his pants says otherwise though. He really is curious to know what lies beneath her dress. For once, he’ll let go of his pride and bite the bullet. After all, he couldn’t resist her, no matter how hard he tried. She’s the only one that can conquer the depths of his heart.

“Well then… care to satiate my curiosity then? Or is my kitten too shy to admit that she wears such a pretty little thing underneath her clothes everyday...”

A blush crept on her face even more. “O- of course not everyday!” She looked away, too embarrassed that she may have worn it because she had also bought it along with the dress. It seemed like her wishful thinking came true after all. Now that Sylus has her trapped and nowhere to go, she could only let herself go.

“Why don’t you take a guess then? What do you think I’m wearing, hm?”

Sylus stared at her, amused by her sudden bold question. “You want me to guess, huh, darling?” He leaned down to gently bite her earlobe, sending tingles everywhere down her body. He whispered hotly in her ear, “I think it’s black and lace. Am I right, sweetie?”

At this point, she was still surprised at how she’s even holding up. She merely croaked out a flustered, “yes” before Sylus smirked and went lower to kiss and bite her neck, leaving a trail of hickeys that would be visible to everyone tomorrow. She could only let out whimpers and moans at his ministrations.

“Sy- sylus! Please…” She begged as he continued to tease her. He pulled back slightly, “What do you want baby?”

With no hesitation, she said breathlessly, “I want you.”

Red eyes gleamed dangerously as his usual smirk tugged at his lips. “As you wish, princess.” In a swift motion, he took the dress she was wearing and tossed it somewhere on the floor. Normally, she’d be a little pissed but now, she couldn’t care less.

Not when Sylus is marveling at the underwear she’s wearing. A black lace, almost see-through underwear with pink bows on it. It should be a crime on how it ridiculously made him salivate at the sight before him.

“Like what you see?” She bit her lip shyly, observing his expression carefully.

“Like it is not even a word for it, sweetie.” His fingers went up to expertly take off her bra, leaving her breasts exposed. He grasped both of them before pinching her nipples, eliciting a moan out of her. Sylus closed the distance between them and kissed her hungrily, addicted to the way she tasted as he played with her tits. He pulled away and gazed at her with a wild look in his eyes, “I am going to devour you.” Was what he said before his lips enclosed on the nipple, feeling it hardened as he continued to twirl with the neglected bud.

Pure ecstasy ran through her body. She can feel herself getting even more wet the more Sylus continued to suck and lick her nipples. He watched her carefully as he trailed kisses along her soft skin, igniting all sorts of butterflies in the pit of her stomach.

She squirmed beneath his watchful eyes, “Sy… please. Don’t tease me.” She pleaded, her tone was sweet and desperate. A deep chuckle was all she heard before Sylus slowly moved down to stare at her sopping wet panty. He smirked, finding this amusing, “Already so wet for me, kitten?” He prodded at her soaked underwear, pressing down on her clit.

At the sounds of her whimpers, Sylus continued to rub her clit through her underwear. Edging her closer to release but the moment she arched her back and curled her toes, Sylus stops. Unable to control herself any longer, she begged, “Please… I want you. I’ll be good, I swear.”

“Really? Then I shall reward my good girl, hm?” Sylus pulled aside her cute lace underwear, staring in fascination and adoration at her dripping cunt. “Your pretty pink pussy is so eager for me, sweetie.” She blushed, seemingly having a hard time to grasp on his crude, yet blunt words.

Without giving her a chance to dwell on it, Sylus begins to lick her pussy. All she could do was lay back and let out a string of moans– overwhelmed by the pleasure. Ruby eyes gazed at her intensely as he continued to expertly suck on her drooling cunt.

“Haaa..! Ah! Fuck–! It feels so good, Sy…” She moaned out his name and it sounded like heaven to his ears. He hummed, skillfully tonguing her pussy with vigor, aching to witness her orgasm. The tent in his pants is becoming awfully hard, he longed to see her on her knees and choking on his cock. The more she mewls and cries, the faster Sylus laps at her eager cunt.

Her fingers find their way to grasp and pull on Sylus’s soft hair, a plethora of moans and whimpers choked out of her throat as she feels herself reaching her climax. “Ah! Sylus, Sylus! Fuck, I’m so close!” A wave of euphoria washed over her as she came undone on Sylus’s sinful mouth.

“That’s my good girl.” He spoke lowly as he licked his lips, she felt herself flush at the sight of his face wet with her juices. Just when she thought it was over, her underwear was pulled down and tossed to the side, revealing her dripping wet pussy. Her cunt clenched around his digits, sliding in and out of her gummy walls with ease.

“Argh…! Sylus… put it in me. I want it. I want your cock.” She whimpered and who was Sylus to deny his slutty girl what she wanted. “Relax, kitten. Let me see how much you can squirt for me.” She bit her lip, hard as he continued to finger her, casually inserting three fingers at once.

He chuckled, “My… someone’s insatiable. Can’t get enough, hm? Such a dirty whore for me.” She could only moan out in response as Sylus sped up, ramming in her cunt like there’s no tomorrow. The room was surrounded by her cries of pleasure and wet squelching sounds, courtesy of her desperate pussy.

Curses and whimpers elicited out of her throat, her cunt spasming against his skillful fingers. Sylus curled his fingers and that’s when she saw stars, coming once more for him. “So… so… good…” She said breathlessly, seemingly in a daze.

Sylus brushed a strand of hair out of her face, drenched in sweat as she stared back at him. Her eyes are unfocused and filled with desire. “Does my slutty kitten want my cock?” He leaned down and began to litter bite marks at her thighs. Sylus loved this, claiming her as his own. Letting everyone know that she belongs to him and him only.

She whined, her hands reaching out to grip on his shirt. “Want it, Sy… please. I’ve been so good…”

He lets her unbutton his shirt, her fingers are itching to feel his skin against hers, while Sylus removed his pants, speeding up the process. Without wasting any time, Sylus stroked his hardened shaft, letting out breathy moans. His gaze remained on her, laying beneath him. “C’mon sweetie, open up.” He said as he guided his cock to her parted lips.

She lets out a whine, swallowing him whole. Sylus was way too big to even fit in her mouth but the more he trained her, the more she became accustomed to it. “What a good cockslut.” He praised her, his fingers tugging onto her messy hair.

Eager to please, she began to bob her head around his shaft while he roughly throatfucks her. Saliva trickled down her chin but all she could think about was him. Sylus is truly the definition of perfect.

The sight of him in bliss and in pleasure turns her on way more than she’d like to admit. Feeling strangely motivated by the looks of his face, she quickened her pace, wanting, no, she needs his cum.

“Ah… yeah, just like that, kitten. Fuck, you’re so good at this. You like sucking my cock, huh?” He stroked her hair as she gazed up at him, nodding. Unable to resist any longer, Sylus grips her hair, and she lets herself be used just like a toy. “You dirty little whore, so good at pleasing me. Fuck, I’m close!” He thrusted inside her hot mouth before finally reaching his high.

As soon as he came, she hummed in satisfaction. Pulling back, she stuck out her tongue and showed him before swallowing. Sylus’s eyes glowed, he’s hungry for more. In an instant, he grabbed her throat, “You pretty little thing, I’m going to ruin you.”

She braced herself when she felt the tip of his cock slowly push inside her dripping cunt. Once he finally slid all the way in, he let out a moan. “Your pussy is so needy. It’s gripping me so hard, sweetie.” She could only arch her back as her fingers scramble to grab the sheets.

Feeling herself clenching tightly around his shaft, she whimpered, “Move… Sylus, please, I need you hard and fast.”

The usual smirk appeared on his handsome face, “As you wish, my slut.” Was what he said before ruthlessly pounding into her with an inhumane pace. His name falls out of her lips like a prayer – a mantra as she feels her pussy drooling and becoming wetter with each thrust.

“Scream for me. Say my name.” His hand gripped her throat, “Say it, you dumb slut.”

She had no choice but to obey his demands. With a choked voice, she screamed out, “Sylus! Sylus! Fuuuuck! Feels so good– ah! Right there, right there!”

He could only admire her as he thrusted deep into her sweet spot. Watching his lover make such lewd expressions makes him feel a swell of pride, knowing that only he could do that. No one else.

He lets go of her throat, thick fingers coming down to rub and flick at her clit. “Cum on my cock, whore.”

The world turned white as soon as she reached her orgasm. Sylus continued to ram into her before coming deep in her tight cunt. He pulled out, staring in fascination as cum dribbled out of her used pussy.

“You did so well, kitten.” He said softly, caressing her cheek as she nodded dumbly, too out of it. Sylus could only smile, knowing that she is still in a state of euphoria. He leaned down to press a kiss on her forehead, “Let me take care of you, my precious.”

The next morning, she woke up feeling sore and satisfied. To her disappointment, Sylus was nowhere to be seen. She frowned as she sat up in bed, maybe he has work? She thought to herself before getting out and walking to the bathroom.

Bite marks and hickies scattered across her skin as she observed her disheveled state in the mirror. She blushed as she recalled their intense activity last night. After she had finished washing her face and brushing her teeth, she walked out and was surprised to see Sylus in bed with a tray of breakfast.

“Good morning, sweetie.” He said, his eyes softening at her appearance.

Her feet instantly moved to sit beside him, “Sylus, did you make this?” She pointed to the fluffy pancakes and a cup of coffee. A smile crept on her face once she realized that the pancakes were shaped like hearts.

“Of course. I dismissed the chef for today. Wanted to pamper you for being so good to me last night.”

If it wasn’t possible, she felt herself falling for this man more and more. She smiled brightly at him, “Thank you, this is lovely.”

He returned her smile with his own, “Anything for you, my sweet.”

The couple enjoyed their morning with breakfast in bed and cuddles. When Sylus was feeding her, he suddenly asked, “Where did you get that underwear from?”

She raised a brow, “I ordered it online. It’s pretty, isn’t it?”

“Very. Next time you want to buy something, put it on my card.” He said casually.

A hint of surprise etched on her face, “Oh? Okay then.”

Over the course of a few days, she finds new packages arrived at her doorstep. No doubt the work of Sylus when she shook her hand and sighs as she held up the new lace panty that he had ordered for her.

There was a note at the end of the package, it wrote, “Wear this for tonight.”

She could only smile as she knew she would be in for a treat once more.

[snowballseal]

Hello! I love your writing sm!

If your requests are open may I rq mc taking care of a burned out or overwhelmed Rafayel? I feel like he's always there for mc but she doesn't get to return the favor often.

Maybe her figuring out how to make him relax and feel better after a particularly bad day/week. ty! <3

Taking care of a fishie

Rafayel X Reader

Summary: When you go to visit Rafayel during a storm, you realize something isn't quite right. He's upset, dealing with a storm of his own as he works, and you decide he needs to take a break. It's up to you to take care of him.

Word Count: 3892

Note: So..........this kind of took on it's own life. It got a little angstier than I'm sure you intended for in your request, anon, but it's still mostly just a lot of fluff and comfort. I really enjoyed writing it, though his dialogue takes time for me to work out. Still! I hope you like it!

Also, I will die on the hill of calling Rafayel "fishie". Sorry not sorry, I think it's so cute.

---

Stepping into the studio is like stepping into a storm. Instead of its usual light atmosphere, the air feels thick and heavy. You can almost feel the static tension crackling along your skin. An actual storm can be seen out the windows, creeping along the coast outside at a threatening pace, casting shadows that make the space feel cold and eerie.

“Rafayel?” You call out into the dimly lit front hall.

No response. All you can hear is the distant sound of harsh brush strokes on a canvas. 

Of course he’s working. The world could end and Rafayel would still be working. Though he doesn’t sound…happy about it. Concern slowly twines around your chest as you make your way deeper into the studio, towards the sound. The usual mess is somehow worse - fruits, paints, and brushes scattered everywhere, along with crinkled balls of paper and tape. You guess this storm was a tornado.

As you expect, you find Rafayel where he usually works. He’s deep into a painting, his brush moving ruthlessly across the canvas. His movements are jerky and unnatural, yet robotically precise. Almost…apathetic. 

Unease prickles under your skin.

It’s nothing like the evenings you’ve spent watching Rafayel paint, when his motions are slow and hypnotic, his focus always so intense but gentle. You could watch him for hours as he brings life to a painting, each brush stroke a breath into existence. This - this is nothing like that. This feels more like anger, bristling and hot, just like the colors slicing across the canvas. There’s no hint of the beautiful, dulcet tones of blue he loves to use. Instead, it’s almost a violent clash of fire and steel and blood. 

Your unease grows with each strike he adds.

Something is definitely wrong.

He’s so focused, Rafayel doesn’t even notice you coming up behind him, not until you curl your arms around his waist. The artist goes tense under your touch, brush freezing against the canvas.

“Hey, fishie,” you greet, voice impossibly soft, hesitant, “I think maybe it’s time to take a break…”

Oh, that’s a tempting thought for him. Rafayel’s eyes flutter shut as he takes a moment to focus on the feeling of your body against his. Your touch is so warm and comforting, like being enveloped by the perfect heated blanket, drawing his attention to just how sore he feels. A bone-deep ache settles in his muscles, reminding him of the deep-set anger simmering in his blood. 

His jaw clenches as he levels the painting with a glare, “No time. I have to finish this.” 

You don’t even blink at the bite in his tone. It’s not meant for you.

“Raf, you look like you’re seconds away from stabbing the painting. And like you haven’t slept in days,” you note, scanning the bags under his ocean eyes. A frown flickers across his lips as he looks away. “You need a break and you know it. Come on.”

“This is just the way artists work,” he grumbles, waving his paintbrush dismissively, “There’s no such thing as time when it comes to inspiration. Unless there’s enough money, apparently.”

His comment makes you tilt your head, eyes narrowing. It’s not playful or simply dramatic like he usually talks. Instead, you hear a thin note of bitterness, as sharp as his wit. And it tells you all you need to know.

“Nope.” 

You click your tongue and snatch the paintbrush from his hands. Rafayel squawks, turning to you with an almost offended look as you drop it in a nearby can of paint. His lips part, and you can tell he’s getting ready to put up a fight, but you don’t even let him start, shooing him off the stool.

“Nope, nope, off you go. You’re going to take a break and a shower,” you insist, pushing him towards his room.

Rafayel gapes at you, and then tries to duck out and around your firm grip, “Cutie, I really can’t-”

“Nope, I’m not hearing it, Rafayel,” you chirp, not unkindly, and block his path when he whirls around. 

The man can be more stubborn than a mule sometimes, and it’s best to fight fire with fire. He plants his feet, crossing his arms over his chest with that exaggerated pout, the one that usually makes you give in to all his whims because you can’t deny such a cute, little fish. You hold your ground, though, raising a brow at him. It’s a stand-off. His stubbornness against your desire to take care of him. And you’re going to win.

After a few seconds, Rafayel scrunches his nose, glancing between you and his unfinished painting. If he really wanted to he could probably overpower you, if only for a second, and get back to his work. But the look you give him, eyes wide and earnest, a deep ocean of concern that threatens to pull him under, makes what little is left of his resolve crumble.

“I really need to finish it,” he tries again weakly.

“You need a break,” you respond decisively, “so we’re taking a break.”

“But-”

“Nope.”

“I just-”

“Nope!”

The artist wilts like a kicked puppy. For a moment, though, you swear a flicker of relief passes through his tired eyes. Like he didn’t really want to keep working anyways. It makes your heart clench.

A little more gently this time, you turn Rafayel around and lead him to his bathroom. He doesn’t put up a fight this time, allowing you to leave him perched on the counter of the sink while you go about preparing the shower. You can feel his eyes on you as you move around, the only sound in the room coming from the water steadily hitting the shower’s glass walls, and the distant roll of thunder.

There aren’t many times you’ve witnessed Rafayel being quiet. He usually likes to chatter, no matter what you’re doing, whether it be about a painting, or something he saw on a trip to the city, or a story about Lumerians. This silence is unsettling. Another storm, on the brink of breaking. That feeling grips your chest, tight and cold, despite the warm steam curling around you, filling the room.

When you glance back at Rafayel, your eyes meet. He’s still watching you, an indecipherable look on his face. He looks somehow more exhausted, his skin ghostly pale, eyes dull with a look of…defeat. 

It’s wrong. Everything is wrong. And you want to make it right.

Stepping over to him, Rafayel spreads his knees a fraction wider so you can settle between them. One of your hands finds the line of his hip, the other resting against the soft curve of his cheek to draw him close. Rafayel lets out a stuttering breath. You touch him with such tenderness, such love, it makes his head swim, makes him feel like he’s drowning yet undeniably safe, all at once. Everything else fades away, leaving just the two of you, surrounded by a soft haze of steam and the low light of his bathroom.

“I don’t know what’s wrong,” you murmur, so quiet he can hardly hear you over the sound of the shower, “but you know I care about you, right? I’m not trying to be mean to you, I’m just….”

Worried.

Rafayel softens. Of course you’d worry. You’re the only one that would for someone like him. His own personal angel, sent to drag him from the depths over and over and over again. Reaching up, he traces your brow almost reverently, easing the wrinkle between them.

When he talks, his voice is raspy and low, “What a fool I must be, making such a beautiful face look so concerned.”

“You’re not a fool,” you chide disapprovingly, “You’ve never been a fool, Rafayel. You’re just…a little self destructive at times, like we all are. But that’s why I’m here. I’m happy to be the one worrying about you, fishie. I’m happy to take care of you. If you’ll let me.”

Another emotion you don’t recognize flashes behind Rafayel’s eyes. He hums quietly, the tension slowly dripping from his shoulders, and turns to nuzzle into your palm. You inhale sharply, heart fluttering when his lips press against your skin, lingering yet hesitant. And when he looks back at you, there’s so much warmth, so much affection in his gaze, that you almost feel yourself melt.

“Please take good care of me then, miss bodyguard,” he murmurs, a ghost of that familiar smile on his lips, “ I leave my wellbeing in your capable hands.”

The heat that creeps up your cheeks matches the blush warming his ears. What a pair you are. 

“Then let’s get you in the shower,” you hum, voice a little shaky (though you’ll deny it), and card your fingers fondly through his messy hair. “I’ll get you some comfy clothes and make you some food. I’m sure you haven’t eaten all day.”

“Mmm, am I that predictable?”

“Only to me.”

You lean up and press a chaste kiss against his cheek. As you pull away, though, Rafayel catches your chin, slotting his lips over yours. It's a slow and overwhelmingly gentle kiss, devotion bleeding with fondness, raw and vulnerable and filled with a yearning that makes you dizzy. You can barely catch your breath when you pull away, the heat in Rafayel’s gaze nearly making you toss out the rest of your plans for the night.

“Take a shower,” you whisper, breathless, quickly separating yourself from the tempting man in front of you.

You still catch a glimpse of his smirk as you dip past the door, though.

Closing it behind you, you steady yourself against the wall, taking a deep breath. The sounds of him shuffling inside, followed by the soft clink of his shower door closing, lets you know that he’s at least listened to your instructions. Your racing heart gets a slight reprieve, then.

Alright. 

Slapping your cheeks lightly, you bring your focus back to the present. Even if he seems a little more himself, there’s still a lot to do. Rafayel deserves the world, and you’re determined to give it to him. As much as you can at least. Starting with comfortable clothes and a good meal.

You duck into his closet, picking out a particularly soft looking pair of sweats and a light button up. Maybe some socks too, you think as you remember just how cold he felt. Rafayel usually prefers to go barefoot, but you pick a pair of thick socks, just in case he wants them. Everything gets laid out on his bed, ready for when he finishes his shower.

Next - food.

Digging through Rafayel’s fridge is a mostly fruitless effort. Well, not fruitless. In fact, there’s plenty of fruit, only fruit really. Amusement curls in your chest. You’ll have to take him grocery shopping tomorrow and maybe have a conversation about a balanced diet. Luckily, you find some pasta in the pantry, and the basics you need to make a decent sauce. Maybe you can cut up some of the fruit too and make a little snack board.

Plan devised in your head, you set about making it happen. 

You’re in the middle of finishing the sauce when Rafayel silently pads into the kitchen. He looks a little more lively, cheeks flushed, eyes bright with curiosity as he shuffles up behind you. Slowly curling his arms around your waist, he draws you back against his body so he can nuzzle into the crook of your neck.

“Smells good,” he murmurs, breath tickling your skin.

You hum, one hand falling to rest over his, “I hope so. It’s nothing special, but it should help you feel better.”

“Anything these hands make can be special.” His fingers trace over your knuckles lovingly. “It just has to mean something to you. It’s only when it means nothing to you that a creation becomes insignificant.”

A part of you wonders if Rafayel realizes how transparent he is being. That, or you’ve just become so familiar with all his habits that you can just tell. To you, reading him is like reading your favorite book, and this is as obvious as a missing page.

But you don’t want to address it just yet. “Ready to eat?”

“Hmm, will you feed me?” He draws back to look at you, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

It takes everything in you to smother a smile. While you don’t often entertain Rafayel’s games, sometimes it’s nice to play along, if only to see him blush when you turn it on him. And today feels like one of those days. So you plaster on the most exaggerated, concerned look you can muster, flipping in his arms to cup his face.

“Do you need me to? Are you that tired?” You coo at him, satisfaction washing over you when his ears burn vermilion red. How cute. “Aw, my poor fishie. You’ve been working too hard, I knew it. Guess I’ll just have to tell Thomas that I’m holding you captive to make sure you get enough rest.”

“You’re teasing me,” Rafayel whines, the rest of his face flushing.

“Only partially,” you giggle, leaning up to peck his lips, “You always turn so red, it’s adorable.”

“I’m not adorable,” he grumbles back, “I’m handsome. Some would even say dashingly so.”

“Of course.” Mirth dances in your eyes. “My dashing prince. So I guess that makes me the knight coming to your rescue.”

He turns somehow darker, gaze darting away, “Even a prince needs caring for sometimes…”

“Yes, they do,” your voice softens, and you press another kiss to his cheek, “Now come, my prince, let’s eat and then we’re going to lay down on the couch and watch a movie so you can relax, okay?”

Rafayel is surprisingly cooperative for the rest of the night. You do end up feeding him a few bites, teasingly wiping at his mouth just to watch him blush again. But with every tender touch, no matter how teasing, you can see him slowly start to relax. His smile becomes a little more genuine, what’s left of the tension in his shoulder melting away. And you love it. You love taking care of him, spoiling him, if only for the night.

By the time you’ve finished dinner and cleaned up, the storm has finally made its way over the studio. Rain drums against the windows as you lead him to the lounge, streaks of lightning filling the room with flashes of light. It’s just the two of you, isolated from the outside world, lost in the warmth of the coastal storm. No one’s going to bother you tonight.

Or so you thought.

You curl into the corner of the couch, holding your hand out for Rafayel, waiting. Just as he’s about to collapse onto you, to finally put the day behind him, his phone comes to life on the side table. Its ring pierces through the relative quiet of the studio, startling both of you. Thomas. Rafayel’s face immediately falls at the name, and he hesitates at the edge of the couch, so close but still so far. In the dim candlelight, you watch his eyes waver, glancing back at the doorway.

“Rafayel.”

They flicker back to you. A flash of lightning illuminates his face, and for an instant, you see dread stain his beautiful features, pleading and desperate. It breaks your heart. 

“It can wait, Rafayel,” you whisper, somehow feeling just as desperate. Desperate to take him away from whatever it is that’s making him feel like this. Desperate to let him know he can rest. “Whatever it is, it can wait. Just…stay. Please.”

He glances back at the phone. It vibrates against the marble table, over and over and over, and you wait with baited breath. Until it goes silent. Still, he doesn’t move.

Slowly, so slowly, you reach forward. When your fingers tentatively intertwine with his, Rafayel takes a deep, uneven breath. And when you give his hand a gentle pull, he crumbles.

Rafayel lets you pull him onto the couch wordlessly. You make him lay down, head on your lap, while his arms curl tightly back around your waist. His grip is almost crushing, his fingers going pale as he wraps them in the back of your sweater, like you’ll disappear. Or like someone might try to tear him away.

Not that you would ever let that happen.

A heavy silence rests over the two of you. Not suffocating, but thick with unspoken words. What words, you’re not sure. They seem to rest at the tip of your tongue, but you can’t make sense of what you wish you could say, or even if you should say anything at all. It doesn’t quite feel right.

So you settle for waiting and start brushing your fingers through his unruly, damp curls, working out the tangles. Rafayel shivers at the sensation, the gentle tug at his roots, the pleasant tingle it leaves behind. He focuses on it, breath catching whenever your nails trace along the back of his neck. Desperate for another anchor point, his hands slip under your sweater to press against your skin. 

You gasp at his cold touch, movements wavering.

“Don’t stop,” Rafayel immediately pleads, voice cracking.

God, the things you would do for this man.

You continue without a word, and the artist hums, practically purrs. He’s remarkably like a cat, despite how much he hates the animals. Clingier, though. Much clingier. And you will never admit how much you love it.

You’re not sure how much time passes like that. Time never works quite the way it should when you’re with Rafayel. Seconds feel like days and days feel like seconds. His hair is dry. The rain is light, now tapping a quieter rhythm against the windows. The thunder sounds farther off. His chest rises so steadily, you almost wonder if Rafayel has fallen asleep.

Until he finally breaks the silence.

“It’s a commission from the mayor.”

You blink. The words process slowly in your mind, a frown forming on your lips. He continues before you can say anything, though, and once he starts, it seems he can’t turn it off.

“Thomas accepted it without asking me. He said the money was too good to pass up, as if I don’t have enough already.” Rafayel’s voice bleeds with such pure vitriol, you’re almost taken aback. You’ve never heard him so…angry. “It’s for his nephew. You’d hate him. He’s no better than a wanderer, preying on helpless people for profit.”

Understanding washes over you.

No wonder he’s upset.

Rumors have spread like wildfire about the nephew of Linkon City’s mayor. Sexual assault allegations. Financial fraud. None of it has been proven in court, but that hardly means they’re not true. It just means he has the power to avoid the consequences.

“I told Thomas to refuse it, but he insisted business is business and he’d already taken the money. As if my art is just business and money. As if inspiration can be bought. Like I can be bought.”

“Rafayel…” You start, a lump forming in your throat.

“It’s like when they used to capture us.” His voice remains thick with bitterness, shaking as he talks. “Humans would pay such high prices for us Lumerians.  Just for entertainment, to show off their status and power. Dead or alive, it made no difference, we meant nothing to them. This painting represents the blood of my people, but to him, it will mean nothing.”

You’re not sure if an aether core can break, but you’re certain you feel something shatter in your chest. It hurts. Seeing Rafayel like this, feeling him shake in your arms, hurts. You’ve never seen him so fragile, so trapped.

And you hate it.

“Rafayel, listen to me.” 

You touch his chin, drawing his burning gaze up to you. He looks torn between tears and brutality. The man who’s held you through your worst nights, and the one who can take life as easily as he creates beauty. Always torn in two and living under the weight of expectation. You can’t stand it.

“You have a choice here,” you murmur, tone insistent, “This is your work. It’s the way you speak to the world. You don’t have to share it with people who don’t deserve it. If this is the hill you want to stand on, then I’ll stand with you, and I’ll make sure you always have the freedom to choose.” A weak smile pulls at your lips. “I wouldn’t be much of a bodyguard or partner if I couldn’t do that for you.”

Rafayel’s brow furrows, sharp and conflicted, “But Thomas-”

“-Is a smart guy,” you chirp, “And you pay him well. I’m sure he just got swept away at the business prospects. If we sit down with him and explain the best we can, I bet he’ll understand. And if he doesn’t, we’ll just find a…creative way to fix this deal. Like delivering a blank canvas with your signature. We can say it’s a commentary on the emptiness of human gratification or something”

That gets the artist to snort despite himself.

“Or we could take it a step further - deliver an empty frame. They’d probably force Thomas to return the money at that point.”

His snort turns into a low chuckle. You grin, ruffling his hair.

“Humans may suck, but we’re good at being petty and coming up with ideas for revenge, huh?”

“Mmm, not all humans are so bad,” Rafayel hums, eyes dancing with amusement as he looks up at you. “I know a hunter who never fails to remind me how good some can be. She’s bold and selfless, not to mention compassionate, even to cats. The world is brighter when she smiles, and her touch chases away even the worst of storms.”

Thunder rolls through the house, perfectly timed, and you giggle when Rafayel frowns.

“Well, maybe not real storms. Though I’m sure she would try.”

“For you, I would do anything,” you promise and he softens even more.

“I know, cutie.” Rafayel catches your hand, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. He then moves to start getting up. “And knowing that gives me the strength to finish what I need to do. You’ve inspired me.”

“Nope.” The artist grunts as you suddenly wrap yourself around him like a koala, dragging him right back down onto the couch. You flip the two of you over, so you’re laying on top of him, chin propped on his chest. Stuck once again. “You agreed to listen to me about your health today. And now that we’ve talked about it, you’re going to actually rest. Whatever you have to do can wait until tomorrow, okay?”

“Ah, my apologies,” he says, voice lilting with hardly concealed laughter. “It seems I forgot about our arrangement.”

“Uh-huh. I’m in charge tonight, and that means we are going to cuddle and watch a movie, and then you are going to sleep. For the whole night. Understood?” You try to speak with an authoritative tone, but it also breaks with laughter.

“Of course.” Rafayel leans forward, and seels your deal with a brief, but ardent kiss. It leaves your heart fluttering as he draws back to whisper, “Thank you for taking care of me, my treasure.”

“Anytime, fishie.”

---

This ended up being sooooo long! I wanted to get the atmosphere and stuff just right, and then poof, nearly 4000 words. Anyways, hope y'all enjoyed a bit of Rafayel angst/comfort.

[gakups4]

teasing them (hcs)

includes : osaragi, uzuki kei, shin asakura & gaku (x gn!reader)

cw. suggestive

- osaragi isn’t the most expressive, but the faint blush and small smile doesn’t goes unnoticed by you.

- when she notices you being touchy towards her—grabbing her waist and stroking her body gently, she’ll hug you and hide her face on your shoulders, trying to calm down her beating heart. if she has enough courage, she would leave kisses on your skin

- make outs would be rare, but osaragi would love french kissing you. she prefers to either be on top of you or you pinning her down, she just loves the feeling of each other’s bodies being close. your lips having a glossy look after a session is endearing to her

- but when you both do make out, she’ll put a piece of candy in her mouth for you both to fight over! she’ll eat a minty one if she’s feeling more playful

- leaving kisses on her legs and thighs really does it for her, bite them and leave hickeys too when you can. osaragi would be breathing heavily from your teasing

- she’s a lovergirl at heart, so please give her all of your affection ♡

- kei is very not used to affection, so teasing him would be very fun (for you). wouldn’t push you away because of your antics, but if he was snail, he’d definitely hide in his shell

- holding his face and staring intently to his eyes would fluster him a lot. your faces are so close to each other, he could almost feel your lips. if you do it for too long, he’ll start to look around everywhere but you. but if you won’t let go at all, he’ll start muttering “please stop…” (he doesn’t want you to, but he’s just way too shy). how could he not blush when your pretty face is directly in front of him, he will never forget that view

- another way to tease kei is to whisper sweet or even dirty things to his ears. he’ll turn stiff and grip his clothes, trying to regain his composure.

- want to overstep the line a little more? kiss, bite or lick his ears and the oh so powerful assassin would start heavily panting. he’s so flustered he doesn’t know what to do with himself, if you roughen your actions a little more, he would start whimpering

- aside from that, you should tug his hair and bite or suck his Adam’s apple. at this point he’s nothing but a puddle. he’s thankful to wear turtlenecks to hide the hickeys you gave him

- uzuki kei may be a dangerous person, if not the most. but only you know how weak his heart is

- since shin can read minds, you don’t even have to lift a finger to get his knees buckling (and you should take advantage of it). stare at him intently while he’s exercising, he’s trying so hard to keep his cool but your thoughts of undressing him in your head is making it harder for him (hah).

- you can think the most dirtiest things ever while having a stoic expression or sweet smile. shin is always in a hard time because of you

- he could be talking to sakamoto and suddenly he sees an image of you about pinning him to the bed. he can’t even scold you without looking suspicious to mr sakamoto

- straddling him is another way to fluster him, no matter how many times you do it, it’ll always make him go shy.

- you should feel up his abs and biceps! he doesn’t have those for no reason. you could also put your mouth to good use and kiss them. at this point, shin should just give up on pushing you away and let you play with him

- it’s fun to tease shin with how reactive he is with his feelings, especially with that clairvoyance he has! bully him all you want

- gaku definitely has a thing for biting.

- cover him with bite marks, he’ll shudder from how sharp your teeth are on his skin. if you bite down on anywhere that is more sensitive, he’ll whine and pant

- bite him until his skin bleeds, he’ll never get over how good the feeling is (and probably get turnt on.)

- I really think he likes you roughing him up, so push and shove him whenever you can. hold his jaw harshly, or even his throat, and maybe tightly to the point he can barely breathe. and if you’re strong enough, manhandle him.

- he gets off to your praises too, he doesn’t hear them often before meeting you. “you’re so strong, gaku”, “you’re really good at playing that game”, “you’re amazing at this gaku” and whatever else. gaku would want to hear them more and get desperate to impress you all the time

- if you send more than enough praises to him, he might just bow down to you and breathe heavily due to the intense adrenaline he’s getting from your loving words

- if he’s in a really submissive mood, even kissing you would turn him whiney. leave teasing kisses on his face while having a loving gaze towards him just makes him soo giddy and needy.

- gaku is deep down still childish, similar to an abandoned puppy. he’s happy to receive whatever affection you’ll give to him

[wolverigrl]

Party (1)

Hugh Jackman x reader (actress)

A/N: Sooo this part was written right after clubbing, and I may got carried away, which why I divided it into two parts. The next part should be online on Monday or Tuesday! So stay tuned! :)

Warnings: smut (not completely detailed), unprotected p in v (wrap it up!), mentions of alcohol, some swearing, mentions of pregnancy

Not proofread!

Enjoy!

Previous Part

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

It's happening. I'm officially a year older today. Honestly, I don't even feel the change. Except for maybe the overwhelming sense of everything right now - the music, the laughter, the champagne that seems to be in my hand all the time - and him. Especially him. Hugh.

The night feels like a dream, but it's real - my birthday, my party. I rented this entire club for the occasion, and it's filled to the brim with friends, the people I care about, the ones who've been there through everything. Some are people I used to only see on screens, in magazines, but now they're real, they're here, and they're celebrating me. It's surreal.

The cast of The Greatest Showman showed up early, and I've barely had amoment to myself. Zac and Zendaya are dancing like they don't have a care in the world. Keala's by the bar, harmonizing with the DJ's set like only she can. Everywhere I turn, someone new is pulling me in for a hug, giving me a gift, toasting to me and wishing me all the best.

"Happy birthday, y/n!" Another friend comes up to me - one of the faces I vaguely recognize through the blur of champagne and flashing lights. They hand me a beautifully wrapped gift, and I accept it with a smile, although my mind is elsewhere. I'm grateful, of course, but the attention, the noise, the constant flow of people - it's overwhelming.

But my eyes always drift back to him. Hugh.

I catch a glimpse of him near the bar, his tall, broad frame leaning casually as he sips martini, talking to Ryan. The way the dim lights catch his features - sharp jawline, eyes that sparkle with a mischievous glint - it's like time slows down when I see him. My heart speeds up, a familiar heat spreading through me. It's not the alcohol. It's him.

I can't stop thinking about him, not tonight. There's something about the way he looks, how he moves in that perfectly tailored suit that drives me crazy. Maybe it's because I've had one too many glasses of champagne, or maybe it's just that he's Hugh and he's everything I want right now. I'm feeling it, that hormonal pull that still won't quit. It's like I'm on fire, and he's the only one who can put it out.

Our eyes meet across the room. A slow, easy smile spreads across his lips, and I feel a rush of heat flood through me. God, he's gorgeous. I feel myself gravitating toward him before I even realize what I'm doing weaving through the crowd.

"Enjoying your party, love?" His voice is low when I reach him, the deep itmbre sending shivers down my spine. He leans in, his breath warm against my ear, and I inhale the familiar scent of him - something earthy, masculine, mixed with the faintest hint of martini.

"I would be enjoying it a lot more if you weren't all the way over here." I murmur, my fingers finding the lapels of his jacket, tugging him closer.

Hugh laughs softly, his hand sliding around my waist with such ease it feels like second nature.

"Oh, I see. Is the birthday girl feeling a little. neglected?"

"Maybe." I tease, but the truth is, it's not just that. It's everything. I feel wound up, my body buzzing from the alcohol, the excitement, and from him. The way his hand rests so possessively on my waist. The way his eyes darken just a bit when I lean in closer and my chest brushing against his.

He's trying to play it cool, but I know him too well. He feels it too, this spark between us that's been burning hotter as the night goes on. And right now, I can't think of anything but us.

I press my body against his, my lips just grazing his ear as I whisper.

"You know, I've been thinking about you all night."

His grip tightens on my waist, his thumb brushing my hip in a way that makes me bite my lip.

"Oh is that so?" His voice is teasing, but there's an edge to it now, something darker and more primal.

"Mmhmm" I hum, letting my hands drift up his chest, feeling the firmness of his body beneath the thin fabric of his shirt. My fingers toy with his collar, brushing against his skin.

"I can't stop thinking about how good you look in this suit."

He chuckles, a low, rumbling sound hat vibrates through my body.

"You're playing with fire, baby."

"Oh I like the burn." I grin.

For a moment, we're just standing here, locked in this invisible dance of tension and desire, the noise of he party fading into the background. My fingers slip into his hair, tugging lightly, and I can feel the way his breath catches in response. He doesn't move, just looks at me with that slow smoldering gaze that makes my knees feel weak.

"Y/n.." he murmurs, his voice a little rough now, like he's barely holding himself back. "We're at your birthday party. You do realize that?"

I grin, pressing my hips against him as I lean up to whisper in his ear, "And what do you wanna do about that?"

His hand grips my waist tighter pulling me even closer, his mouth so close to mine I can feel his breath against my lips.

"You're trouble, you know that?"

"Only for you, baby."

Before I can say anything else, the music changes, and I feel the beat thrum through my body, pulling me onto the dance floor. Hugh follows, his hands on my hips as we move together.

Dancing with him feels like the most natural thing in the world. Every sway of my hips, every turn, it's like our bodies are in sync, perfectly attuned to each other. I can feel the heat of his hands on my skin, even through the fabric of my dress, and it makes me ache for more.

I turn in his arms, pressing my back against his chest and grinding against him as the music pulses around us. His hands tighten on my hips pulling me back harder against him, and I can feel his breath on my neck, hot and heavy.

"Y/n.." he whispers in my ear, voice strained but playful.

"You're making it very hard to be a gentleman right now."

A wicked smile curves my lips. I glance over my shoulder, giving him a sultry look. "Who said I want you to be a gentleman?"

His eyes darken, the playful glint replaced by something more primal. He presses a kiss to my neck, just below my ear, sending goosebumps down my arms. I turn in his arms, facing him fully, and pull him into another kiss, this one deeper, more intense, oblivious to the crowd dancing around us

He groans softly into the kiss, his hands sliding down my sides and his fingers gripping my hips like he's trying to keep some semblance of control. But I can feel him losing it, just as much as I am. The way his body presses into mine, the heat between us - it's almost unbearable.

The music blurs into the background, and all I can think about is the feel of him behind me. His body moving with mine, the way his hands seem to leave trails of fire on my skin. I look up, our lips just inches apart.

"We should stop.." he murmurs though his grip on me doesn't loosen. If anything, he pulls me closer.

I tilt my head up, brushing my lips against his in the barest of touches, teasing.

"Do you really want to?"

He doesn't answer with words. Instead, his mouth crashes against mine, and I lose myself in the taste of him. My hands are in his hair, tugging him closer, and I can feel the way his body tenses against mine, like he's holding back everything he wants to do.

I know we're still in the middle of the dance floor, but I don't care. Right now, it's just him and me, lost in the heat of the moment. I deepen the kiss, letting my tongue slide against hus, and he groans into my mouth, pulling me even closer, if that's even possible.

After what feels like an eternity, we finally pull away from the dance floor. My head is spinning, but not only from the champagne. I grab his hand, pulling him toward the photobooth in the corner of the club.

"Come on, let's do something fun!" I say with a playful grin, tugging him inside.

He laughs, following me into the cramped space. The curtain closes pehind us, and I waste no time climbing onto his lap, my legs straddling his.

"Smile for the camera!" I say, sticking my tongue out at him just as the first flash goes off.

We make silly faces for the next few shots - sticking our tongues out crossing our eyes - but I can feel the tension building between us again. My body is still humming from the dancing, the closeness, the way his hands feel on my thighs, even through the fabric of my dress.

I lean in for the next shot, kissing his cheek, but it doesn't stop there. The kiss lingers, my lips trailing down to his jaw, his neck, and I can feel the way his breath hitches beneath me.

"Love.." he breathes, his hands sliding up my thighs, gripping them tightly. "You're really trying to drive me crazy tonight, aren't you?"

smile against his skin, my lips brushing his ear as I whisper, "Maybe."

The camera flashes again, but we're not paying attention anymore. My mouth finds his, and the kiss quickly turns heated, desperate. His hands slide up my sides, pulling me closer until there's no space left between us. I can feel him hard against me, and it only makes me want him more.

I grind against him, and he groans softly, his hands gripping my hips so tightly I know I'II have bruises tomorrow. But I don't care. All I care about is the feel of him beneath me, the way his mouth moves against mine and the way his hands are everywhere at once.

We're lost in each other, so caught in the heat of the moment that I barely register the curtain ripping open. It takes a second for reality to hit, but when it does, it's not subtle.

"Hey! No funny business in there!" a voice teases, giggling as it echoes in the small booth.

I freeze, still straddling Hugh, our lips inches apart, our breathing heavy. I look up and find Chris standing there with his brother Scott, both grinning like they've just caught us in the act - because, well, they pretty much have.

"Really, guys?" I groan, burying my face in Hugh's neck in a mixture of embarrassment and frustration. Hugh chuckles, his chest vibrating beneath me, still catching his breath.

Chris gives me an exaggerated wink. "What? Thought we'd come join the party. The booth's big enough for four, right?"

"Get out of here, man!" Hugh says with a laugh, shaking his head, though he's still holding onto me like he has no intention of letting go. His hands remain firm on my waist and his body warm beneath mine. Scott leans against the doorway of the booth, grinning. "You know, we're happy for you two, but maybe save the PDA for after the birthday cake?"

I roll my eyes and slide off Hugh's lap, standing up and adjusting my dress, trying not to look too flustered.

"Fine, fine. The booth is yours!"

Hugh stands up behind me, smoothing down his suit and running a hand through his hair. He's got that mischievous glint in his eyes, though one that tells me this is far from over.

"Have fun!" he says, stepping out of the booth, his hand slipping into mine as we head back toward the party. I squeeze his fingers, unable to hide the grin on my face. But as we walk away, I feel the heat between us still simmering beneath the surface. It's like every brush of his hand against mine, every glance he gives me, is charged with electricity. I don't think either of us is done with what we started.

We slip into a quieter area of the club, tucked away from the noise of the party.

There's a small storage room just off the side of the main hallway, dimly lit, the perfect place to catch our breath and maybe finish what we started.

Inside the storage room, it's cramped and cluttered, a stark contrast to the opulent club just outside. The air smells faintly of cleaning products and dust. Shelves ine the walls, stacked with supplies - boxes, extra bottles of liquor, random equipment that looks untouched for months. There's a small, rickety table in the corner, just big enough for me to sit on, though it Iooks like it could collapse at any moment.

Hugh's hands are on me the second the door clicks shut. His lips find mine in a fierce, hungry kiss, and the world around us fades into a blur of heat and need. His fingers grip my tips, pulling me against him, and can feel the hardness of him through his pants, pressing insistently against me, The urgency between us is undeniable, like we've been holding back all night and can't wait another second.

He guides me backward, and stumble slightly as my back hits the edge of the small table, my breath catching. His mouth leaves a scorching trail along my neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin where my shoulder meets my collarbone. I shiver, my hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer.

"I need you." I whisper, my voice breathy and desperate.

His response is a low growl vibrating against my skin. "God, y/n.. I need you too. I've needed you all night."

With one swift motion, he lifts me onto the table, my legs wrapping around his waist instinctively. The table creaks beneath me, unsteady from our combined weight, but neither of us cares. His hands slide up my thighs, pushing my dress higher, bunching it around my hips.

"You have no idea what you're doing to me." he murmurs against my ear, his voice thick with desire. His nands grip my waist, and his lips brush my neck again, leaving a trail of heat wherever he touches.

"I've been thinking about you.. imagining this.. every second of tonight."

A soft moan escapes my lips as his fingers tease the edge of my panties, and I arch my back, pressing against him. "Hugh please.."

Hugh's mouth crashes back onto mine swallowing my words. He fumbles with his belt, the leather slipping through the loops with a soft hiss, and the sound alone makes my pulse race. I can feel the tension in his body, the way his hands shake slightly with need, and it drives me wild.

He pulls my panties to the side, and I gasp as his fingers slide against me, teasingly testing.

"Fuck. You're so wet." he whispers, his voice hoarse. His fingers dip inside me briefly, making me gasp.

"And all for me?"

"Only for you baby.." I manage to say parely able to form the words through the haze of desire.

I need you, Hugh. Now."

With a groan, he frees himself from his pants, and I feel the hot, hard length of him pressing against my thigh. His fingers dig into my hips as he positions himself at my entrance, and I bite my lip, already rembling with anticipation.

"Tell me what you want." he murmurs, his lips brushing my ear. "Say it."

"I want you." I breathe, my voice shaking with need.

"I want you to fuck me."

He pushes inside me slowly, inch by inch, and my head falls back as a moan escapes my lips. The sensation of him filling me is overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and pain as he stretches me and takes me.

"Fucking hell, y/n." he groans, his forehead pressed against mine as he bottoms out inside me.

"You feel...so fucking good."

The table creaks beneath us, swaying slightly from our movements, but I barely notice. My legs tighten around his waist, pulling him deeper, and he begins to move slow at first, then harder, faster, until the rhythm of his thrusts matches the beat of the music still thudding through the walls. With every movement, I feel the tension building inside me, winding tighter and tighter until l'm on the verge of breaking. Hugh's hands roam my body, gripping my thighs my hips, sliding up to cup my breasts through my dress. His lips find mine again, his tongue tangling with mine as he thrusts into me with a desperation that mirrors my own.

"You make me feel so good.." I whimper, my nails digging into his shoulders.

"Don't stop... please, don't stop.."

His hand slides down to grip my ass pulling me harder against him as he thrusts deeper, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

"I love you, y/n." he groans, his voice rough with need. "I fucking love you."

"I love you, Hugh." I whisper, my body trembling as I hold onto him for dear life.

"I love you so much."

We're completely lost in each other now, the world around us disappearing as we move together and the table creaking loudly beneath us.

At one point, I hear something fall - a bottle or maybe a box knocked off one of the shelves - but neither of us cares. We're too far gone, too wrapped up in the heat of the moment to think about anything else.

His thrusts become more erratic, harder, faster, and I feel the tension inside me snap.

My climax crashes through me, sending waves of pleasure rippling through every nerve in my body. I cry out, my nails raking down his back as I hold on, riding the wave of ecstasy.

Hugh groans loudly as he follows me over the edge, his body tensing as he thrusts one last time, his release hot and deep inside me. We're both shaking, breathless, our bodies pressed so tightly together it's like we're one.

For at few moments, we - just stay like that, holding each other with our foreheads pressed together as we try to catch our breath. The room is silent now, save for the sound of our breathing, the faint thump of music still vibrating through the walls.

After a long moment, Hugh pulls back slightly, his eyes dark and intense as he looks at me. He leans down, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to my lips.

"You're amazing." he whispers, his voice thick with emotion.

I smile, my heart still racing. "So are you."

He kisses me again, but this time slower and sweeter, like he's savoring the moment. Then, with a soft laugh he pulls back and reaches into his pocket, pulling out a handkerchief.

"Here, love." he says with a grin, his back pocket and pulling out a handkerchief. It's such a gentlemanly gesture, one that makes me laugh softly. He helps me clean up, his touch careful and respectful, and I can't help but feel a rush of affection for him in that moment.

"Always prepared, huh?" I tease, running a hand through his tousled hair, which is still slightly damp with sweat from our heated encounter.

"I like to think so." he replies with a wink, adjusting his pants and redoing his belt.

He then wrapped his arms around me and pulled me closer while kissing softly my forehead.

"You okay?" he murmurs, his voice soft.

smile, my heart still pounding 'More than okay.

He chuckles, pressing a kiss to my forehead before slowly puling away and helping me straighten out my dress. We both fumble with our clothes trying to make ourselves look at least somewhat presentable, but I can't stop myself from smoothing his shirt, adjusting his tie, and brushing a hand through his hair.

"You're fussing." He says with a lazy smile while his hands find my waist again. "They're going to know we've been up to something."

"I don't care!" I laugh softly, though I can feel my cheeks flushing. I tug on his shirt collar one last time, making sure everything is back in place.

Then, he looks at me with that familiar softness in his eyes, the intensity from earlier replaced with something deeper. His hand cups my cheek, his thumb brushing my skin, and for a moment, we just stand there in the dim light, staring at each other like the rest of the world doesn't exist.

"What if you were pregnant?"

...

- to be continued -

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

@spectorrrhgf @tinawantstobeadoll @appetencyfortacos @weskerussy @kellyxo1 @larkkyoris @shukirschtein14 @corvusmorte @carefree-flowerchild @rexmeshlasblog @melmel-fandom @needz1nk @nonamevenus @morganlolitta @angelofthorr @pickuptruck01 @inlovewithcharmers @gaulty74 @mega-kittyglitter-1 @sylviavf @bethexo07

Next part

[bonbonly]

Collage au Carlos definitely the type to go after the quiet art student. Doesn’t care how cliche it is, doesn’t care about his football mates teasing him. Doesn’t even care about the hottest girls over at the the social studies building that quite literally spell their interest out for him.

His scholarship already gets him through comfortably, AND he gets to spend his time doing what he loves the most already, playing football. But oh, how can he resist that primal urge of curiosity after he has a taste of the little artist? Not that he goes out of his way to search for her in the campus, but he does seek her presence in the room wherever he goes. He has no business being in the arts building, so he keeps his eyes open everywhere else to get a glimpse of her.

And whenever he does see her, she does everything in her power to avert her eyes and sneak out of the room as soon as possible. However, it PROBABLY doesn’t help that his dearest mother buys the one piece she painted for the annual gallery night hosted by the university. And it probably doesn’t help that his mother likes her in very much, so much so that the poor little artist can’t bring herself to escape the room this time when Carlos rounds the corner to get to his mom with a huge grin on his face.

And just when he thinks it can’t get any better, his mom has invited her over for the holidays when she heard that this poor girl can’t be with her family since they’re going on a trip of their own. “I understand if you want to spend it alone, but if not, I insist!” she says with that glint of hope in her eyes, and how can she resist such a heartfelt offer even though she knows for a fact Carlos will be there also? Well, Sainz mansion is a big one after all, sure she can try to avoid him, but how long can she keep it up?

ANON YOU ATE, YOU COOKED SO HARD WITH THIS if we know anything about artstudent!reader it's that she minds her business. she's there to earn good grades, open art galleries and fulfill all her dreams. she doesn't have time to get a boyfriend or get laid - oh wait. she still thinks about carlos and her in the art closet, and every time she goes there to grab some supplies, her eyes always fixate on the one spot on the shelf where he had her pinned. she'll blush and grab the paintbrushes, scurrying out of the room as fast as she can.

and it doesn't make it any better when some of her friends tell her that carlos is frequenting the art building a lot more. one of her friends wonders what he's doing, and if he switched majors. artstudent!reader gulps, shrugging her shoulders and trying so hard to make it seem like she doesn't care. she may feel a bit excited that someone like him is looking for her, but at the same time she knows its a mess she doesn't want to get into. she makes that known every time she crosses the football field to get back to her dorm. he's staring at her with a wide grin on his face, hands on his hips and sweat covering his body with one foot on the ball. she almost turns to send him a quick glance just to see what his reaction would be but she knows better than to indulge him like that and keeps her head held high, marching off to her dorm. he likes her stubbornness, but he hates seeing her be quiet. he wants her to yell and scream at him, in more ways than one.

oh and can you imagine the art gallery??? spending weeks painting large canvases, sleepless nights and sore arms from just trying to reach the top part of the canvas. and the fact that someone offered to buy the canvas? she's beaming, she's envisioning her future as a world renowned artist, in front of rich galas and having her name be in future history books about the art she contributed to the world. and then her dreams vanish into thin air when she realizes that it's carlos's mother standing in front of her having bought her painting. she's so in shock that she hardly recognizes carlos behind the older woman, and when artstudent!reader finally glances over the woman's shoulder, she wants to scratch his eyes out at the way he's grinning, his eyes twinkling at the sight of her.

"mama, she's very good, you know?" carlos comments, and artstudent!reader forces a smile, awkwardly looking between the two. "i can tell, mi hijo, that's why i bought her painting! it'll be nice in our living room, no? with the colors?" mrs. sainz exclaims, unaware of the storm brewing in the poor artist's guts.

"she has many talents, mama, many," carlos smirks, sending reader a wink that nearly has her pass out in front of everyone.

and forget about trying to avoid him in his mansion! seriously, forget about it! carlos follows artstudent!reader around like a lost puppy, convincing his parents that he needed to guide her around the house or else she'll lose her way. no matter how many times she insists she won't get lost, and that she doesn't need a guide, carlos always finds his hand resting on her waist, pushing her to the rest of the house. before dinner even begins, artstudent!reader probably excuses herself to use the bathroom but someone was in the nearest one. which meant she had to go through the other side of the house! how perfect!

and carlos follows her like he always will, quietly pulling her into his large study room which has her painting on the wall. he pushes her onto a lavish couch, spreading her legs wide as he pulls her panties down with his teeth, "lo siento princesa, i guess i'm just too hungry"

his voice is a bit mocking, and as she opens her mouth to argue that this could all go wrong, that his mother might walk in and see the obscenity, his lips are around her cunt and he's feasting like a starved man. juices dribbling down his chin, he shakes his head as he sucks her clit, causing her to fall back into the couch, legs wrapping around his head on instinct. she tugs at his curls, chasing her own orgasm

and her eyes fall onto her painting placed between some family portraits and photos. a symbol of her permanent fate in the sainz family.

[babiebom]

Would they be a Girl Dad/Mom or Boy Dad/Mom

A/N: just know that this isn’t the weird incest-y thing that people have going on (the boy moms saying that no girl would ever compare to them when talking about their sons dating stuff) this is just what vibes they give off!! The is completely ignoring the how many kids they would have thing!!

Tw:cursing? Mentions of a afab partner in bachelors and amab partner in bachelorettes. Some angsty stuff but nothing too bad except for the authors note which mentions incest.

Wc:at least 5 for each!

Stardew Valley Masterlist

Sebastian

Girl dad

He just gives off girl dad energy

Like a daughter would soothe his soul if that makes sense.

Especially because I feel like he would have a daughter that’s exactly like her mother.

He would become softer, and would probably be carrying her everywhere.

Would be the parent that shows up to the school like “WHO TF HAS A PROBLEM WITH MY DAUGHTER?”

Absolutely doesn’t allow her on his motorcycle at all.

Maybe when she’s a little older he’ll get mods to a new motorcycle so she could ride with him but as a baby absolutely not.

She is a daddy’s girl through and through and it makes him happy because he never had a relationship like this with his biological dad nor with Demetrius.

Sam

Girl dad

You will see him teaching his daughter how to skate EVERY DAY

Like dude is a skater boy that’s also a musician.

He definitely has a daughter with her skirt on and some knee pads a helmet and some flannel or something.

And he’s like “okay try again! You’ll get that kick flip eventually.”

And you’re just like “SHES GONNA GET H U R T!!!!”

And he’s like “yeah but she’ll be fine :)”

It’s VERY stressful because he’s a little rough with playing sometimes because he gets too excited but it’s good to have a partner that will push your child like that.

He’s a very good fun dad

Vincent enjoys being an uncle.

Shane

Girl dad

Have you seen how he is with Jas?

Dude is a girl dad all the way!

Would teach his daughter how to take care of the chickens, and would try to teach them proper ways of dealing with their emotions because he doesn’t want her to end up like him.

I could imagine he’s one of those dads where his daughter posts something on a social media platform and gets the “this is no father behavior” or whatever people be saying

And she just makes another video with him standing there and is like ??????? I’m actually close to my dad thanks <3

Like his daughter would be strong but a good person because he would work hard to make sure she’s a person he wishes he could be. But not in a toxic way

More in a you could be and are better than me.

Alex

Definitely a boy dad

I think he gives off the vibes of a dad you see at the park

And you can immediately tell that his child is a boy and when anyone asks him he points to a little boy that looks exactly like him.

They have football days

And it just very much him fixing what he didn’t have with his dad, and giving his son as much love and care as he can.

It’s as if he is getting a do over, but in the form of having a child instead of him going back to being a child.

I can see him and his son in the kitchen with a mess everywhere trying to make you breakfast

He takes him to sports games and goes to all of his kids events at school.

They’re both EXTREMELY loud when doing anything together. It’s just shouts of excitement and joy.

Harvey

Boy dad

I don’t know he gives off that he specifically has a 3 year old son that clings to both of you on any given day.

Like a son with big eyes that can melt anyone’s heart and his hair is always neat.

Son may be a bit of a crybaby ngl but in a cute way. Because both of you allow him to express his feelings in any way he wants to as long as it’s healthy.

Like y’all’s son would be an incredibly sweet boy and so loving and caring towards other people and things.

Harvey has a picture of you and your son as his lock screen on his phone and the clinic computer. And he has a little picture (more like a million) of you three in his wallet.

Elliott

Girl dad

She takes mom’s looks but has his hair.

And also his bone structure.

Gives off Nepo baby vibes and has a big vocabulary bc Elliott would speak to her as if she’s an adult since the day she’s born.

Like yeah he still speaks softly and everything

But he uses adult words bc his kid is going to be smart.

Would be so sweet and would absolutely call her his princess.

Elliott is for sure in charge of bedtime stories and has probably already or has made plans to release a children’s book just for her

She gives him inspiration and a new meaning to his life.

Penny

Boy mom

She just seems like the type of woman to have a son

I imagine him literally either as a newborn with her never putting him down or like a 4 year old playing at the park.

I think he would be similar to her in personality but more like dad in looks.

He’s attached to her and they spend hours reading together because they’re both very into stories.

I think out of all the kids he would be the sweetest.

He’s very soft spoken like she is and she loves that he is (don’t get me wrong if he was loud she would still love him just as much) but she’s seeing all of the traits that she was more insecure about in him and figuring out that maybe it’s nothing to be ashamed of because those traits are lovely in him.

Leah

Boy mom

Like I mentioned in the other post I think she would have one child

And I think this little boy would be so creative it’s crazy

But is also super hyper so all of his art is chaotic but very cool

She probably started doing art with him the second he was born.

She makes a bunch of finger,hand,toe, and footprint art because he’s going to grow quickly and she wants to have something that she can look back on when he’s grown.

He’s encouraged to be messy and I think because of it he learns to clean up his mess quickly

They’re a very smilely duo and she makes sure to encourage him in whatever he wants to do no matter how absurd because no one encouraged her to follow her art dreams and she never wants him to feel like that

But also teaches the importance of accepting failure and continuing to try to achieve his goals.

Emily

Boy mom

Very strange like her but in a good way like her

She lets him express himself in all kinds of ways so he’s very…idk how to explain it

Sometimes off putting to people?

Sort of autism coded ngl

Like has no ability to read the room and very much says what’s on his mind no matter what’s happening

But it’s kinda impossible to get mad at him because he does it in a very nice way?

Probably has his hair dyed some random color that he wanted and everyone gets mad at Emily for it because “HeS a KiD hE cAnT dO tHaT!!!!!!!1!!!”

They’re also super close. But I don’t honestly think any of these bachelor/ettes would have kids just to hate them.

But they have the kind of bond that people usually have with their friends like where you can halfway read their mind and you don’t really have to say full sentences or anything they just get it.

Haley

Girl mom

OOOOOOOOF her daughter is the spitting image of her

Like her daughter knows EXACTLY what she’s going to look like.

Would probably dress her daughter up in expensive clothes and stuff and they’ll have mommy daughter dates where they get their nails done and go to a hair salon and go shopping and have their little drinks.

Her daughter would probably have a popular girl name because Haley would wanna set her up for success.

BUT unlike what people might think I think that Haley would be very…relaxed with her daughter if that makes sense

No almond mom shit

No making her feel bad

No being distant and distracted

Haley sometimes feels abandoned by her parents and I have a headcanon where even though she loves them and they love her they kinda made her feel shitty about certain things

Like her and her mother would get into arguments and her mother would say “I hope you have a daughter just like you so you can see how hard it is to deal with you!”

And after Haley has her daughter she sees that it isn’t really hard to love herself at all. Her daughter is just like her and it’s the easiest thing in the world to love her.

Abigail

Girl mom

I think Abigail would struggle with this at first because y’know I think out of all the bachelorettes she her up with the stereotypical roles in her household and even when she tried to go against it her parents wouldn’t let her

So when she has a girl she panics because what is she supposed to do? And she worries that she’ll be like her parents even though she does love and cherish them.

But as her daughter grows older she’ll relax more especially if her daughter is into video games and adventuring.

I think she would probably take her kid on hikes and stuff. Like she doesn’t really care for exercise but it’s kinda like adventuring going hiking.

So her daughter would grow up with a love for adventure and the outdoors but also with the knowledge that she could be into whatever and her mother will not judge and will always love her

Maru

Boy mom

I don’t know why but I can see her with a Spencer Reid son if that makes sense

A super nerd that’s super cute and lovable and also info dumps and inappropriate times

I think he would be space nerd instead of robot nerd and also maybe a bit of a bug/dinosaur nerd

And she’s like !!!!!! That’s so cool!!!!!!

They just talk for hours and hours infodumping at each other and everyone is like ??? What kind of conversation is that you’re both just taking turns talking for an hour straight???

BUT a difference is that she understands Demetrius’ position but also kinda is annoyed at him for his behavior

Like she would NEVER dream of holding her child back socially because she thinks his academic progress is more important

It kinda made her shit at socializing and she’s kinda grateful to have a partner and son that understand her

She wants him to be well rounded instead of just smart.

[erideights]

Little pieces here and there (3)

Pairing: Buggy x Fem!Reader (One Piece Live Action)

Chapters: one, two, four, five

Word Count: around 2K again.

Warnings: minimum context of the arlong park part of the story (background), MUTUAL FLIRTING, forbiden pinning of them both, Buggy has his body back *wiggling eyebrows*, sexy times

A/N: devil works hard but i'm working harder, every 5 free min i have from work/class/practices i'm writing on my phone, i'ts actually insane and i love it (ROAD TO CHAPTER 4?? If you like this one and want the next one, please let me know!)

Oh, he was mad. He was really mad.

Maybe "sexually frustrated" was a way more accurate term given the circumstances but the feeling was so strong, so visceral, he was sure he was reaching a point where jumping to the sea to end that agony -even if a bit exaggerated, like him always, everywhere and for everything- was justified.

Somewhere in Arlong Park, Buggy could feel the boner pressing his pants, demanding to be satisfied; dirty talk was one of his true passions and when (Y/N) played that card on him, being capable of picturing himself with her on his lap, that damn woman so -actually- close to his face in that moment he was already tasting her lips, her low, smooth voice driving him insane, he could not help it, but get turned on so easily and so strong is been hours, and he's still mad, incapable of stop thinking about that.

That is, perhaps, the reason he feels relief as soon as the sun rises and Usopp is back on the helm again, asking for directions as Buggy, in fact, demands to go faster. Like instead of slicing and dicing his body, his power could control the wind that propelled the boat or the force of the waves against the hull.

(Y/N) ran away just after such a -even if brief- conversation. She may have broken his balls with that dirty trick, but she was equally a victim of her own game. She knew what to say to push Buggy and leave him so stunned -to speak- that the poor clown didn't have the chance to fight back at that moment, not without his body to help him keep her in that kitchen, lift her up on the counter, force her to back down, regret even thinking she could do that to him, and then, only then, yes, fuck her until she wakes up the rest of her little and - according to him - pathetic crew with her moans.

Or so the girl imagined, leaning against the door of her room, eyes closed, heart slightly racing, fighting the temptation to lie down on the bed and masturbate thinking about what had just happened.

Which included him. Him!! What the hell, was she actually losing her mind? All that damn flirting had really gotten into her, for fucks sake, because regardless of her finding him quite interesting when they met, this attraction was something else.

Lately everything around her was something else. Did she really think through the decision of leaving her mercenary life behind and follow those kids to the Grand Line? Did she really think through the decision of flirting back with a psychopath clown?

Because in the end it's just that, right? Flirting. Was nothing else, is nothing else, and will be nothing else. She doesn’t want it to be something more, that's for sure; there's no need for unnecessary complications and extra headaches. In the meantime, it's fun, a bit of a backfire kind of situation, a bit -sexually- frustrating, but fun.

After a good ol' resting night and already some hours into the new day, (Y/N) notices that it's been a lot, since their encounter in the kitchen to be precise, that Buggy not only doesn't flirt with her, but doesn't talk that much or even look at her as amazed as before. Of course, he is, also, way less annoying, which Zoro subtly points out clearly pleased with how calm, nice and silent this morning is.

At some point she shakes her head, knowing, or at least guessing, the reason for this behavior, so she decides to check no one's around and the rudder is locked in the right direction, and then goes to where the bag with his head is, closed probably by the sniper when he got the last indications he needed from him. She opens it, lowering it until the clown's head is free on top of that barrel.

"How are you doing, Bugs?" she starts with a funny little smile, looking intently at him as she leans her back forward to leave her face level with his. "It's been hours I don't hear your raspy voice, I'm starting to miss it."

Silence. Absolute indifference besides the sidelong glance he gives her because let's face it, Buggy is annoyingly proud, extremely, exaggeratedly, but he loves attention. He likes nothing more than receiving it, no matter where, when, and from who, and she could see it as soon as they met.

"Also your silly nicknames for me" She grants, giving in. She would also be mad as hell if someone leaves her as horny as she knew she left him, so she doesn't have any problem being the one to start the tug-war this time.

"Already tired of the shidiots?" He finally asks, almost drily, after a minute; now he is the one to play difficult, huh? "No wonder, they don't even know where to start being pirates."

"Oh, of course, because no one compares to the famous Buggy The Clown, the colorful nightmare or the East Blue." Playful, she retreats a bit, resting her hip in the barrel, arms crossed over her chest.

"Quit the sarcasm doll, you know I'm right." Well, he was, in fact, right. None of them had real experience in the whole i-wanna-become-a-pirate thing, still, they were doing pretty good to be newbies. She was quite proud of them.

"I cannot wait to have my body back" he then murmurs, adding before she could say anything else about her new friends. "To do what?" She asks, you know, like she didn't know.

"Take a guess"

"Recover your spotlight? Find a new crew and a way to enter the Grand Line to go search the One Piece and be the king of the pirates?" (Y/N) mocks, clearly enjoying being the annoying one this time.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah'' Buggy rolls his eyes, scoffing. ''All that, but not before making you regret what you did last night." To that accusation she gasps, resting her right hand over her chest "What did I do last night?"

The clown falls silent again, but his mood is completely different. Right now he's not pissed off, it's obvious that this time, instead of flirting with her in a casual and natural way, he’s thinking what to say, choosing carefully his words to return a fraction of the effect she had on him hours ago.

His eyes darken, and his voice goes octaves lower and raspier. "Sweetheart, there will be no possible escape from what I plan to do with you. At the slightest opportunity I will make you cum on me so many times you will be the one to find the One Piece without needing to go to the Grand Line, but first…'' He pauses, breathes, and lets it go calmly, like the intimidating, psychopathic calculator she saw at the circus and not that flirty cartoonish version she got to know on the ship. ''you will beg for it."

She knows she shouldn't surrender to this type of tease, but she also can't and doesn't want to avoid it. Getting heavily carried away, without thinking about it twice, one of the girl's hands slides to the back of his neck, slipping under the bandana, and tugs his hair aggressively as she leans in again to speak close to his face. He grunts in pure satisfaction, closing his eyes for a second. Of course (Y/N) is, once again, taking advantage of the fact that he cannot defend himself no being more than a head, and the fact is that he enjoys like a condemned bastard those small but intense gestures the girl has given him since they met at the circus.

He can't wait to break a woman like her. And oh, he will.

"Are you sure about that?" Hearing distant steps, someone from the crew coming out on deck and climbing the stairs, she gets some distance from him, acting naturally, closing the bag again around his head. "My expectations just skyrocketed, I hope you don't disappoint."

By the end of the day, the Konomi Islands begin to appear on the horizon, and as soon as they set foot on them, shits get really serious. The situation of the poor people who live there is heartbreaking, so for two days, no one dares to make a single joke, Luffy's usual energy and bubbly positivity is nowhere to be seen, and of course, the interactions of (Y/N) and Buggy are reduced to = 0. The clown's head is no longer of any real use to them, and it’s poor Sanji, the new recruit, who’s carrying it around just in case.

At least until they reach Arlong Park.

Again, (Y/N) is not exactly the type of mercenary expert in martial arts and although she knows how to defend herself, fighting like Zoro or Sanji is, in few words, impossible. Her only advantage is being very, very fast, and knowing how to use the scenery to her advantage, so it doesn't take long for her to hide here and there among the different tents and attractions in the area to get rid of the most straggler fishmen, with a knife she got long ago during one of her jobs, capable of cutting their tough skin easily.

Everything happens so fast and is so chaotic that apart from some screams and blows in the background and having seen Usopp running towards the forest, (Y/N) is completely unaware of what is happening in the main complex.

A strong pull on her left arm activates her flight or fight response as one last fish falls dead to the ground in front of her. Raising the knife, in a quick movement, she tries to defend herself by aiming at the stranger's neck, although in vain; a pair of lips whose red has already been worn for days impact against hers, stealing her breath, a small moan escaping her. Eyes wide open, she barely registers the blurry color of Buggy's nose when two strong hands squeeze her hips as if the life of the clown depended on it, pushing the girl against the wall of the building behind them, cornering her without any type of delicacy.

She hadn't heard from him since they reached the island. Hell, she didn't even know he had got his full body back and was already so close to it that air was unable to pass between each other.

Of course, the moment the clown's head joined the rest of himself -the feeling much better than he remembered- he fucked off his captors and decided to flee. Not before making a vital stop along the way.

The ideas about how to proceed with her once he was whole were very, very different in his wild fantasies, but when he saw the girl's back, he knew that the only thing that would -partially- calm his yearning would be to kiss her before disappearing as fast as possible. To taste her lips, to feel her warmth.

Still not recovered from the shock of the kiss, Y/N doesn't remove the knife from the clown's neck, but he couldn't care less; quite the opposite. He is so turned on and waited so much -again, exaggerated- for this he doesn't know yet how he will be able to break the kiss, take distance from her, and run away.

Passionately carried away, moved by his most primitive instincts, Buggy sneaks one of his legs between hers, pressing in between them as Y/N inhales through her nose and her free hand flies to his vest, pulling it a little.

It wasn't the time, nor the place, to think about fucking that asshole, but damn, after all the teasing and the tension and the adrenaline of the fight--

And just when she starts fully giving in to him, he retreats just enough, panting a bit, and looks at her now red, stained lips, eyes darkened and full of lust. Just like hers.

"Hate to leave you like this sweetheart but I have things to do and places to go. I don't want people relating me to Arlong, I would hate the bad press on my persona." He whispers, cracking his usual cruel, playful smirk when he finally puts some distance between each other.

‘’It's time to exit stage left.’’ Buggy adds, theatrically raising both hands in the air. ‘’I promise I’ll see you around.’’

And like this, he stars running away again. Where? She doesn't know, or even guess at this moment, too busy registering the kiss in her memory, the way his lips felt on hers, how his nose pressed her cheek the entire time, or his hands grabbed onto her for dear life.

Bastard.

''You better'', she whispers to herself.

[auclairedetoru]

Ahhh I saw you're also open to writing AoT? Especially Eren?? And I love your little headcanon things, they're so cute! So may I request something sweet with eren too? Maybe a college au or something, they could either be strangers to lovers or idk friends/best friends to lovers (with like years of pining, I love that trope but you do you!). Maybe just some headcanons again💙Have a lovely day!

Thank you for requesting, nonnie 🤍 it's a little short and sweet but I'm definitely going to write more about these in the future!

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Eren who has a big friend group, from childhood friends to his frat brothers.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Eren who people perceive as a typical college student in a frat house. Parties any chance he gets, drinks, sleeps around, has a new girlfriend every two weeks, is failing his classes...etc.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Eren who laughs when he hears those assumptions despite them being partially true. Yeah, he does love to party and have fun, but he wasn't the type to wake up in a stranger's bed every weekend, mainly because the thought of catching an STD is scary, but because he might have eyes for one specific person. He's not stupid, either. He's the top student in all of his classes.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Eren who Intrigues people when they scroll through his social media. He has a few solo posts and some with friends, but when you swipe through all of them, you'll always find the same person present... His best friend y/n.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Eren who has known y/n since middle school and has been inseparable from her since then. He does everything with her, takes her everywhere he goes, his friends are her friends and vice versa. The day they got accepted into the same college was one of the best days of his life.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Eren who loves his best friend so much and isn't afraid to show it. Giving her a tight hug and a kiss on the cheek when he first sees her in the morning, holds her hands when walking, wraps his arm around her shoulders and pulls her in a hug, cuddles with her, calls her cute pet names... He just really loves his best friend.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Eren who's actually been in love with y/n since high school but has always been too scared and nervous to confess. Jean - his other best friend - has told him many times that she feels the same because if she didn't she wouldn't allow him to be as affectionate with her but he still refuses to believe him.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Eren who starts hearing the whispers when he's seen with her. People are now saying they might be dating, and those rumours spread like wildfire. He's not doing anything to help calm them down either, but he casually posts a picture of her sleeping in his bed, wearing his sweater, hugging his pillow, with "my world" in the caption.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Eren who despite his nonchalant attitude about everything is worried about her being uncomfortable with his actions, so he asks her about it and she simple answers with sitting on his lap and kissing his cheek, “you know it would be visible all over my face if I'm uncomfortable, 'ren.”, and it's true, he can read her like an open book, even when she tries to hide her emotions.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Eren who's now tired of just being friends and wants to take it a step further. All they need to do is kiss at this point because even their parents think they're an item.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Eren who one morning is on his bed sitting across from y/n who spent the night again. She is still a little sleepy, her hair is a little messy on top of her head and he tries to calm it down a little by petting her head gently, she's wearing his hoodie and drinking from his water bottle. He smiles at her, thinking about how absolutely adorable she looks.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Eren who let's go of everything that was holding him back before and cups her cheek, his thumb slowly caressing the soft plush as he moves his face closer to hers. A soft good morning left his lips making her smile and lean her forehead against his forehead, replying back with the cutest and softest sleepy voice.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Eren who stares at her for a few seconds before leaning in fully and placing his lips against her soft ones, sighing in relief when he feels her kissing him back. His unoccupied arm wraps around her waist and pulls her closer to him until she's on his lap and she has her arms wrapped around his shoulders.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Eren who doesn't hesitate to confess, declaring his love against her lips making her giggle softly in happiness and confessing right back. He feels over the moon, everything he's ever wanted is in his arms, kissing him back, loving him back.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Eren who proudly shows off the promise rings he got them the same day they made it official. Holding their intertwined hands up so their friends can see them with a big grin on his face, “it's our initials! See? That's the first letter of her name on my finger!”.

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Eren whose social media is now only filled with pictures of his pretty girlfriend and unapologetically corny captions. He's spent years wishing he could love her the way he's doing now, and he's not going to hold back now that he's got her.

[justasecretflower]

- How many kids would they want? + pregnancy head canons Ft. Inuyasha boys 💐

Inuyasha

- I would like to say none..

- canonically, he has a daughter. So I imagine that if he had kids it would’ve just..happened.

- that’s the case back then anyway because they didn’t have birth control and whatever else.

- when you become pregnant he’s a whole mix of emotions but dw he’ll settle on being happy.

- he’d be the type to be like “kids are sticky and gross.”

- he warms up to the idea when he sees you with kids

- it’s one and done though..he’s extra careful after having a kid. He loves them, but he’s not doing another.💀

Miroku

- oh my gosh

- you’d pop out more babies than a Victorian wife if he had the choice.

- he wants like 10.

- you tell him obviously you’re not gonna rip your body open to birth 10 kids.

- you settle on like 4 MAYBE 5.

- he’s so happy and very supportive during all of your pregnancies.

- now, many people may think he’d want only boys, but in reality he’s such a girl dad.

- “oh how scandalous” he gossips while sipping imaginary tea.

Sesshomaru

- uh oh.

- none. Idk how to tell you this.

- he’s like Inuyasha, if he has one, he’ll warm up to it, but he doesn’t really try for one.

- again he’s one and done. Like, he’s not exactly dad material, nobody say rin because he married her..

- I feel like he’d have a boy and he’d be exactly like sesshomaru

Naraku

- NONEEEEE

- he’d baby trap you if you’d try to leave, but only because he wants to manipulate you to stay, not because he wants kids.

-now, if that happened..

- he’d constantly ignore the kid, but maybe he’d warm up?..

- he’d also not have any other kids, he’s successfully manipulated you so why would he?

- you’d have to hold the kid and let them cry as they ask why dad doesn’t want to spend time with them.

- naraku hears this, and, in his own twisted way, yes he “loves” his kid. He just thinks of them more so as a commodity.

- so he takes them on a ‘mission’ and teaches them how to use his puppets and stuff.

- the kids ecstatic, naraku doesn’t have to do much work, it’s a win win.

- that’s all you’re getting though.

Kōga

- he’s a “however many you want” kind of guy.

- he adores his kids though.

- I think you prolly end up with like three. That fits him.

- two boys one girl. The girl being the youngest is how I picture it.

- overprotective girl dad obviously.

- teaches his sons how to hunt properly, dots on his daughter but teaches her how to fight with her brothers for self defense.

- if she ever gets a bf he’s fighting for her, actually.

- he likes when you wear clothes that show off your belly. He likes showing off how he “claimed” you.

- also in a “look at my beautiful, glowing wife” way.

- tells your belly how strong they’ll be.

Jinenji

- I love him.

- he cried and passed out when he found out you were pregnant, he didn’t know he could even have kids.

- now he wants a whole army, but secretly because he never voices his opinion on it. He thinks since you go through the pain, you have the absolute final say and you wouldn’t want that many kids anyway..

- he carries you everywhere. You’re never on your feet.

- his whole hand takes up your entire belly. So when the baby kicks around he’s watching and feeling with tears streaking down his face.

- he’s our lil sensitive king.

- he goes into serious overprotective mode. He’s checking all of the food that you eat, making sure every step doesn’t end up making you trip, making sure you rest up.

- prepares you little salted rose petal baths and just sits there watching you. The love in his eyes makes you melt every time you look over to glance at him.

- his mom goes crazy too. Giving you advice, old wives tales, etc.

- the best overall. Because he is.

———————————————————————-

~. You look lost, visit my garden ?

Reqs open.

Tags

[tallgirl14]

Chilchuck angst

I love this lil middle age man but i aslo live for angst so her are few my ideas because I need tell someone and if you have angst dm me we can talk about it

He carries a wallet size family portrait (when his girls were little) with him when he goes down in a dungeon, and he looks at it when he miss them. ( I feel like photos are probably pretty 💰💰 so they only had few consist wedding photo, baby photo mayjack she's fist born, then one of the whole family ) and this photo is chaotic and It makes him smile.

This is the ONLY photo he has of his entire family and he hasent seen them in few years with his kids grown living there own lives and him and his wife are split this photos all he's got.

How far would this man go for this picture. I can see chilchuck getting badly hurt because he went back to grab it and as Marcille is lecturing him about his reckless action as she's healing him.

Marcille: "What could have been so important that you risk your life over??"

Chilchuck: "my family or what's left of it"

He shows her the photo and marcille feels her heart drop she finally got to learn something about him and its sad ( this miscommunication leads to his group to believe chil family is dead )

Chilchuck taught Mayjack how to pick locks, and in the manga, he says when he dies, if they need someone, she'd be their first choice. SO he obviously took her through dungeon showing her how to navigate because being locksmith in a shop vs. dungeon is night & day different, dungeon being high pace environment.

Could you imagine how traumatizing that would be if saw her dad die in front of her AND NOT KNOW THEY COULD BE REVIVED!! (Seeing anyone die would be scaring) Especially if she felt it was her fault.

At first, Mayjack was curious about going into a dungeon with her dad to see exactly what he does she rember as kid seeing him come home late tired excused but mostly worn down.

Whenever she asked him about his work as a kid he was always vague or if he did talk about it was pg version and normally he was just trying scare us about going into dungeon. BUT one thing he made very clear, he didn't want any of her or her sister near the dungeon, but now that she's an adult, he couldn't stop her.

" I still don't want you near the dungeon, but you are a skilled locksmith, so you would be valued and well paid. IF you're still interested, I'll have you shadow me on my next small job so you can see what it's like."

At first, it was like any job we met with the client went over to the terms dad took payment, and then we headed over to the dungeon. I was awestruck by the new environment, but it quickly became overstimulating it took me a moment to adjust. the first few levels, dad had pointed out things to avoid what were scams & how to detect traps and walked me through a few I felt confident. Most importantly, when talking jobs, always have a skilled healer. Now I realize why as we enter new room dad was working on trap I was observing the room when I noticed treasure chest peaking out corner not knowing it was a mimick.

Chilchuck was Halfway through picking his lock when his dad sense went off. He quickly looked around room and spotted may messing with mimick

Chilchuck: "MAYJACK TIMS! get away from that!!" He starts running towards her

May turned to look at her dad, confused " why I already unlocked it?"

Her body stiffened as she could feel presents inside the chest, but before mimick could attach, chilchuck pushed her out of the way taking damage as it jabbed one of its claws through his neck causing him to bleed everywhere all mayjack could do was watch in horror paralyzed with fear trying process what happened. One of group members took care of mimick while she scrambled to her feet to get to here dad trying to put pressure on his wound tears flooding out

"Nonononno im sorry I'm sorry 🥺 "

As chilchuck lay there dying, he was more concerned with the fact he could comfort his daughter. This wasn't how he wanted to see death for the first time. Afterwards, the healer from their group came over and assured her he was going to be fine as she worked on reviving him.

Chilchuck let out a gasp and cough out some blood that had remained stuck in his throat. He turns to mayjack " that's why I told you to stay near me..." He moves toward her noticing her hands are strained with his blood. " are you hurt?... may? "

She shakes her head, and tears start to fall down her face he pulls her in for a hug. " it's ok, I'm ok ... I'm right here. " she hugs him tight, and they stay in that embrace for a while. When they finally break the hug, chilchuck wipes tears from her face.

" im sorry you saw that... do you want to go home.? "

" but the job?"

Chilchuck shakes his head " don't worry about it I brought someone along for that exact reason"

[fredshroomz]

The scene where Geta & Caracalla ask Lucilla to adopt them is so deeply important to me, and the fact that it was cut makes me so miserable, even if I (think i) understand why it happened.

(I don’t have gifs or screenshots on hand pretend I used them)

We really don’t see the twins acting as a unit much at all. We see Geta being diplomatic, to an extent, and Caracalla being brain damaged and hungry for violence, entering the conversation late and not seeming to know exactly what’s going on (but he is always a very silly guy who I deeply treasure.)

When they proposition Lucilla, Caracalla is at an even pace with the conversation, almost leading it in some instances. He has his faculties in order. The twins finish one another’s sentences, like they’ve rehearsed, like they’re in lockstep as emperors, and I really love that dynamic, it gives them an even higher height to fall from as the two of them descend to the lows they reach before their respective deaths.

I’d also like to note that the two of them being in synch feels so dangerous. Geta is circling Lucilla like she’s some sort of prey. Caracalla eyes her and makes some milf hunter comments. Their motivations are unclear, but seeing them work together, again, installs them as much more competent tyrants than we see them as in the rest of the movie. Sure, they revel in opulence, they adore violence and have little consideration for the conquered. That never smelled like the level of corruption and cruelty that Acacius claims. (But also I was never a Roman history buff.) Seeing them pull out all of the stops and offer their prisoner ‘benefits’ for adopting them (a method of controlling both lucilla, who is evidently beloved by their people, and acacius, her husband, a general whom glory follows everywhere he goes. Them being his sons may have been a ploy to get him to do what they want in the name of expanding their empire. It would also further cement their right to rule, as not only sons of a usurper, but sons of the bloodline that came before their father.)

I dunno. I love them.

We also get to see Dondus here, in the first act. He kind of just spawns in at one point and is illustrated as being so very very important to Caracalla. But he just started existing like twenty minutes prior by the time Macrinus weaponizes Caracalla’s protectiveness for his tiny monkie against his brother. Seeing him earlier just would’ve… I dunno. Shown us the monkey. MORE SCREEN TIME FOR MONKEY.

Lucilla being re-introduced to the audience when Acacius returns to her was absolutely the right call. It feels right, rather than ‘hey look its Connie Neilsen!!!! and some ginger fucks! look!’ I love how we see her for the first time. It really works to the movie’s benefit.

I just think losing the scene with the twins was a detriment to their characters, even if it made the film stronger as a whole. I never went to film school, so don’t take what I say super seriously, I’m just autistic about all of these freaks. Heart heart.

[ragnarockz]

AO3 Works

On Hands and Knees (Agatha Harkness/F!OC) A shared, comfortable silence opens the floodgates, which allows Agatha to make the next move in her growing romantic relationship with Sam.

Depression & Obsession (Agatha Harkness/F!OC) It's hard to give yourself grace when you feel like the worst person in the world. Agatha dealing with her internal struggle of wanting to be loved yet feeling her and Sam's relationship crosses between obsession caused by her guilt, sadness and, grief.

The Raw You (Agatha Harkness/F!OC) A raw and intimate moment between Agatha and Sam.

Liquid Poison (Agatha Harkness/F!OC) Sam stakes out the infamous nosy neighbor Agnes to let her know she's onto her but, is she aware that Agnes knows how to play that game, too?

Oh, So Familiar (Agatha Harkness/Rio Vidal) Agatha finds Rio in everything and Rio, cannot help but to find Agatha everywhere she goes.

Swallow The Hook (Agnes O'Connor/Agent Vidal) Agent Vidal shows up at Detective Agnes O'Connor's door; there's a spell that needs to be broken and Agent Vidal has the magic touch to break Agnes out of it.

Dagger: An Invitation (Agnes O'Connor/Agent Vidal) Detective Agnes O'Connor must work with Agent Vidal on a stake out for their prime suspect in Agnes' case. Agent Vidal doesn't necessarily see the importance of the stake out; there's more important things to focus on when you're alone in a car in the middle of the night with Detective O'Connor.

A Feral Pet (Agnes O'Connor/Agent Vidal) Agent Vidal and Agnes O'Connor are playing a little game; can a feral pet become tamed to pleasure?

Watch Me, See Me (Agnes O'Connor/Agent Vidal) Agnes O'Connor is working late and Agent Vidal decides to pop in for a late-night visit. Good thing no one else works overtime at the Westview Police Station.

I Drink of My Sisters (Agatha Harkness/F!OCs/Rio Vidal) May 3, 1996 and it's opening night of The Craft in theaters. Agatha takes her group of young witches to see it; her treat. She has a surprise for them right after to keep their spirits up, a promise and a chance for them to walk the Road.

Five Star (Agnes O'Connor/Agent Vidal) Agent Vidal has asked Detective Agnes O'Connor out for a nice date at an upscale restaurant. Detective Agnes O'Connor feels like a fish out of water. Agent Vidal, smooths out Agnes' uncertainties.

Taking It (Agnes O'Connor/Agent Vidal) Detective Agnes O'Connor promised Agent Vidal they would spend more time together after working hours; even if it meant they were a phone-call apart.

A Promise Kept (Agnes O'Connor/Agent Vidal) A grand crescendo of the growing relationship between Detective Agnes O'Connor and Agent Vidal. A promise is a promise and Agent Vidal is showing Agnes that she is keeping it.

Ripple Effect (Agnes O'Connor/Agent Vidal) A direct follow up to A Promise Kept; Agent Vidal recalls the moments in between her and Agnes' night together and a colossal shift between them.

The Good Detective (Agnes O'Connor/Agent Vidal) Using the prompt: "Be good for me and I'll untie you", Agent Vidal wants to see just how far she can push Detective Agnes O'Connor while being tied up like a present for her own use.

Off The Record (Agnes O'Connor/Agent Vidal) Using the prompt: “You used to hate me and now you can't keep your eyes off of me,” Agent Vidal and Detective Agnes O'Connor are granted access to Westview's Public Library after-hours to follow a lead in the case. Agnes comes clean about their power dynamic thus far.

Friday Night (Agnes O'Connor/Agent Vidal) Agent Vidal and Detective Agnes O'Connor go out drinking on a Friday night. Drinks and dancing catch up to these two; making them unable to keep their hands off of one another 🥃💜💚

Salivating (Agnes O'Connor/Agent Vidal) Agent Vidal has a favorite game she likes to play with Agnes; look but don't touch. Just how long can Agnes follow the rules without breaking them?

[johnwickb1tsch]

bittersweet ~ a yandere!John Wick x fem!reader sunshine/grump coffee shop AU... Part 36 all chapters

WARNING: NSFW, SEXUAL CONTENT, YANDERE SH!T. Plz take care. I luv u all. 😘

You are getting the feeling that Mariko Kimura doesn’t really like you. 

And maybe it’s stupid, but you’re really not used to that.

Worse yet, this woman basically has a license to beat the hell out of you as The Personal Trainer–how else are you going to learn how to defend yourself in this vicious world? Strikes, blocks, throws, joint locks–she’s taking her job seriously, and after a week has gone by you’re not sure how much more you can actually handle. Maybe you’re a hiker girl, but it’s been a long time since you’ve done any athletic activity that demanded you give everything you have, take a breath, and then give fifty percent more. Your body hurts everywhere. Your torso is bruised in twenty places under your top, and you think she might have knocked one of your back teeth loose with a dirty punch.

You do not want to complain to John. You know he went through so much worse, and it would feel like tattling. So you take a moment to compose yourself on a bench before returning to your room, breathing deeply. That hurts too–jesus fuck, did she crack your ribs? 

What you really want to do is have a good little cry, but that’s completely off the table. 

Show no weakness. 

“Are you alright, my dear?”

Your eyes fly open to find Winston Scott, looking dapper as ever in a pinstripe suit, standing nearby. You hadn’t heard him approach. That’s probably not a good thing, even in this supposedly neutral environment. 

“I’m fine,” you say brightly with a smile you know looks more like a grimace. “Just…catching my breath.”

“May I?”

You scoot over on the antique wooden bench, very aware that you are sweaty as the proverbial whore in church, surprised this fastidious man would dare come within six feet of you at the moment. 

“I must admit I was surprised when I saw that Jonathan enrolled you with Miss Kimura. She is close friends with Akira Shimazu.” 

“I…don’t know what that means,” you admit. 

“Ah. Well, Jonathan should.”

You blow out a long breath through your teeth, bracing your kidneys. Maybe a shower and a dip in the cool waters of the pool downstairs would be nice. 

“I don’t want to get anyone into trouble,” you sigh. If John suspects Mariko is playing rougher than what is demanded for some personal reason that has nothing to do with you, that could breed a whole new problem. You have enough problems. 

“As you wish. I am not sure you know this about our Jonathan yet, but politics are not his strong suit. He is the best at what he does, but the more subtle machinations of our world still escape him.”

This doesn’t come as a total surprise to you, although if you let Winston in on some of the psychological games John played with you not so long ago, the old man’s hair might have stood on end.

Or, maybe not. 

“Are you telling me it’s my job to keep him from killing everyone when the Camorra finally show for this sitdown?” 

“Well. I’m sure you’ve heard tell of what happened with Santino d’Antonio.”

“Yes.” 

“Perhaps Jonathan is in a better state of mind these days thanks to you. But I also fear what our dear boy may do, to defend you.”

Hearing anyone call your fearsome assassin John dear boy brings a little smile to your lips. You are glad that someone seems to be in his corner. You’ve gotten the impression from hearing John talk that Winston is like a father figure to him. You’re relieved it goes both ways. 

“I will keep what you’re telling me in mind.” 

“That is all I ask,” he says with a nod, standing. “And perhaps, a little break from the Trainer would do you good.”

A small laugh escapes you–you know it sounds bitter. “You give very good advice, Mr. Scott.” 

“I know I do. If only the young people around me would deign to benefit from my wealth of experience.” This is his parting shot, and you watch as he makes his exit stage left, leisurely strolling back down the hall like a king in his castle. 

***

Lounging in a warm bubbly bath–with John Wick’s solid naked body behind you, maybe makes the beatings you’ve been taking worth it. 

Ok, it’s totally fucking worth it. Nothing hurts anymore…except for when his soapy hands gently massaging your sore muscles find a bruise. There are a lot of them. 

It also helps that a few minutes ago he ran those soapy hands all over your breasts and aching center, coaxing a soul-wrenching orgasm out of you, all while talking you through it with his low voice in your ear.

He never actually asked if you’re alright, and you take that as a compliment. Maybe it’s fucked up, but you’re kinda proud of your pain tolerance–and John’s quiet approval. 

That doesn’t mean you’re capable of keeping your mouth shut about something else that’s bothering you. 

“Who is Akira Shimazu?” you ask sleepily, your head lolled back on his broad shoulder. His hands pause tellingly upon you, before resuming their soothing circuit. 

“She’s the daughter of one of my oldest friends, Koji,” he finally answers, his tone deliberately neutral. “He…was killed by the High Table, when I went to his Continental in Osaka for shelter.” 

There is a lot to unpack in that sentence. You start with the part that alarms you the most. “Wait…the High Table are allowed to break the rules of the Continental?” If those fuckers were coming, supposedly to play mediator–what good would it do, if they were not bound to follow their own rules? 

“Not usually,” he assures you. “The Marquis who was hunting me was granted…privileges.” 

“Sounds like bullshit.” 

“It was bullshit.” 

You decide this is all the information you need to connect the dots. If you were Akira Shimazu, you would probably blame John Wick for your father’s death too. And if you were Akira’s friend, and had no recourse to hurt John Wick directly–beating up his girlfriend was pretty much the next best thing. Great. 

“Why are you asking me this?” 

“Oh…just a conversation I had with Winston today.” You turn in the bath, reaching for the soap to return the favor to John, only in part to distract him. He weighs you with those dark eyes, only half believing you, or at least, sensing there’s more than what you’re telling him. You sit up straddling his lap, running your hands over his chest. His eyes slide closed, quiet for some time as you touch him. His wounds from the home invasion have healed now, his stitches out just the other day. Now they are simply slick pink flesh under your fingertips–as though it had all just been a bad dream.

These moments seem even more precious between you, now. You want to hoard them like a dragon with its pile of gold, keep them forever shining in your memory. You know what you’ll draw in your sketch journal tonight. You’ve been trying to keep up with a drawing a day, a way to pass the time, though the past week you’ve been too tired in the evening.

“Is Mariko…associated with Akira?” 

Maybe Winston doesn’t give John enough credit. 

“I think they might be friends.”

He touches a bruise on your arm with a new understanding, his dark brows drawn in a frown.

Well shit. So much for being subtle. 

“Is she hurting you on purpose?” 

“She’s…not pulling any punches. That’s ok, John. I’ve learned more this past week than in the five years I did in Tae Kwon Do.” You realize that is absolutely true. 

John’s eyes narrow as he searches out your bruises with new eyes. “I’m sorry.” 

It’s interesting to you, how it was par for the course before, but with the new information that it might be personal, it’s suddenly not ok. 

“Don’t be.” 

“I didn’t think I would be a good hand to hand combat teacher for you.”

“Why not?” you ask, not accusing, just curious. 

“Because when I put my hands on you I just want to fuck you,” he admits bluntly, raising gooseflesh all across your body, your greedy cunt suddenly clenching in insistent reminder of her state of abject emptiness...drama queen.  

 “Even…if we were fighting?”

Considering his penchant for chasing, maybe you already know the answer to that. He blows through his nose, pulling you close with those mitts for hands on your hips so that you can feel he’s hard just with the thought of it. 

He ducks to graze his teeth upon the curve of your shoulder, and your state of relaxation is starting to fly out the window again. This man. 

“Especially if we were fighting,” he admits against your ear, his voice gravely with desire. “I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from taking you down. I’d fuck you right there on the mat, and you wouldn’t learn a thing except that you drive me wild.”

Your nipples tighten with the thought, your breath caught in your throat, and he lifts you easily in the water with that controlling grip on your hips, rubbing your now slick center against his throbbing cock. Tub sex can be tricky, but the bath water stands no chance against the suddenly raging state of your arousal. Without further ado he lifts you onto his cock, impaling you on his thick tip. The glorious glide and stretch of his girthy shaft inside you still takes your breath away, like you can feel him in your lungs, your fingers digging into his shoulders. 

“Fuck,” you squeak, winning a dark chuckle that scrambles your insides. 

“Yeah.”  

It’s the last intelligible word you manage, in the next few minutes, as he uses you just as he pleases, the water sloshing all around as he pistons inside you. It’s all you can do just to hold on, clenching tightly upon his insatiable erection the way you know makes him lose it. 

“Touch yourself for me,” he invites, though you know he’s close. You’ve reached that point in your physical relationship when you know each other’s bodies so well, your rhythms and sounds, down to the very tone of a gasp or the desperation of a thrust. 

“I don’t think I can cum again,” you admit, though you’re thoroughly enjoying him inside you. 

You really didn’t mean it as a challenge, but when he smirks at you with that certain sparkle in his anthracite eyes you just know you’re in for it. 

“Yes you can,” he insists, slowing his pace inside you, arching you back in his arms so that he can flick one of your nipples with his devilishly clever tongue. Oh. Well that’s not fair at all. You reach down to rub your clit while he fills you like this, delaying his pleasure to hit that perfect spot just past your entrance that makes you forget anything else exists in the world but you and him and the promise of a soul-snatching orgasm on the horizon.

“Give it up for me, my pretty girl,” he coaxes with his lips against your skin, and you know the snake must have sounded like that when he spoke to Eve. Tempting and forbidden and yet oh so reasonable. You’ve asked a lot from your body in the past few days. Maybe this is how you die–and what a way to go. That wonderful tingling pressure fills your hips and you moan, forgetting, again, that the other assassins down the hall probably do not want to hear more evidence that John Wick never misses. 

There are stars in your eyes and a ringing in your ears as this shining, bone-shattering release takes you. You are a ragdoll in his arms as he fills you to the hilt and bathes your cervix with the hot rush of his cum. It’s all the two of you can do, not to sink into the water and drown. With a shaky sigh you kiss his lips before melting against him, re-learning how to breathe with his arms wrapped around you, your head on his shoulder. 

He strokes your hair, whispering endearments so low you can’t really make them out, but the tone is so soothing you drift asleep for a few minutes. You only wake when he freshens the bath with more hot water, before drifting off again. 

***

Much later, when both of your faculties have returned, and your fingers have turned to prunes, he tells you, “I think we’ll give you a break. We’ll start weapons training tomorrow. That, I will handle myself.” 

This is news to you. “Here? In the hotel?”

“There’s an armory, a range, even a course.” 

“In this hotel?” 

He chuckles a little at your disbelief. “Yeah.” 

The New York Continental: anything and everything a killer could need…

And here you are, trapped amongst them with the man you love. You know this is technically John’s world, but a part of you just can’t shake the feeling that he doesn’t belong here. That he shouldn’t have to be back here–it’s not fair. 

You sit up in the water, reaching for a little yellow rubber duck on the side of the tub, not meeting John’s eyes. You’re not sure where it came from; there must be some inside joke you’re not privy to…but it’s cute. 

You do feel some relief, knowing you’re not going to get beat up again tomorrow, though going through tactical firearms drills makes you more than a little nervous. You’re sure it will be different from plinking in the backyard on a Sunday with your dad and his drinking buddies. Ah, alcohol and guns–a time honored American classic.

“I feel like I’m walking out of here with my Certificate in Baddass Assassin Studies,” you say with a nervous little laugh. “What else is there? Are you going to teach me how to pinball flip someone with a muscle car? Maybe how to ride a motorcycle while swinging a katana?”

His lips twist in a smirk. “If you want, when we go home.” 

You find the thought buoys you with hope. “Will we ever get to go home?”

“Unless you really want to move to Argentina,” he needles you.

“Argentina does sound pretty bitchin’...” you tease him. 

He narrows his eyes at you; after all this time, it still gives you a thrill. “Are you sure your fascination with Argentina doesn’t stem from the good looking men who seem to live there?”

You make a raspberry at the thought. He still remembers Javi, it seems. You do too, of course, but all that feels like a distant dream in your memory. “Darling, I have all the Tall, Dark, and Handsome I can handle right here.” You place the rubber ducky on top of his head as though bestowing a crown, and he rolls his eyes before snatching you to him, water splashing all across the floor again. 

“Who’s going–to clean–that up?” you tease between kisses and giggling, suddenly drunk on his arms around you, his strong hand running down your side to squeeze your behind before long fingers quest further towards your aching center. 

“Baby, that is the least of your worries right now.”    

“I can’t!” you whine in protest as he palms your breast, rolling your nipple between his fingers. You absolutely give yourself away with your joyful laughter that turns into a moan.

“We’ll see, cheeky girl.”  

This insatiable man really might prove the death of you. 

----

Pretty sure the rubber ducky is all on @sweetwolfcupcake …😂😘😘😘

[baby-tini]

May I ask for Mikey x fem oc or reader, in the last arc scenario when mikey goes back to the past with his memories intact and tries to find her but couldn't, and only finds her again when both of them are adults with their own jobs and everything...(Also just for it to be a little angsty maybe she died before the last time).... I'm sorry I'm so bad at this 😭

A/N- You're all good, sorry it took so long, hope you enjoy it nonetheless.\ TW- Readers death and Manjiros attempted suicide in the Bonten timeline. He looked for you, he looked everywhere for you, but you weren't anywhere too be found. He searched for you for days, then those days turned into weeks and unfortunately months. The last image he has of you, is when you died in his arms, during his Bonten days. He remembered he didn't eat or sleep for days. You were the only light in his dark life. The only thing that actually kept him going. The only reason he even thought about getting up in the morning, that's the main reason he tried too jump off that building in the first place, but then, Takemichi had saved him and promised everything would be better for him and everyone, including you. But as he went through his life, happy to have all of his friends and family alive he was grateful, don't get him wrong, but he missed you, deeply he missed you. He's never loved and cared about someone so deeply and intimately before. He never forgot about you, not even once, you were always stuck in his head as the same questions continuously ran through his mind. Where were you? Were you okay? Were you thinking about him too? If you were, were you thinking about him nearly as much as he thought of you every. single. day. It was a chance meeting in all honesty, your friend was really into motorcycles so, of course she wanted too watch the races, so when she bought tickets, and her boyfriend wasn't available, she asked you too go with her instead. You really didn't want too go at first, given motorcycles weren't really your thing, but in true bestfriend fashion, she had pleaded with you until gave in. Giving you the little puppy dog eyes as she clung to your arm with a multitude of pleas. Then demanding you get ready when you finally gave into her. When you did finally get to the racing stadium, she went crazy, telling you all about the racers and who they were. How skilled they were and what type of motorcycles they were driving. Again, being someone who really wasn't into motorcycles, you weren't really listening, just watching the bikes speed around the track until they were done and finally announced their winner, but you didn't really stay for that, instead quickly leaving too busy yourself at the taiyaki stand. You've always liked taiyaki, it being your favorite snack and all. Especially when you think about the memories you'd occasionally get, eating it with a man that you couldn't give a face or a name. "Hey, just make double and I'll pay for it." That voice... sounded so familiar, the deep rasp hitting your ears as it sent your brain into deja vu. A man, with a black undercut walked towards the stand as he pulled out his card, still dressed in a racing uniform. As he turned to look at you and your eyes locked on his, you both froze. There was a feeling of electricity that shot through the both you, as your eyes met his. The beautiful obsidian that felt so familiar yet so.. distant. "...Baby?" The mans eyes held a recognition in them as those lost memories of yours came back, clearer then before. Finally giving the man a face and a name, "Manjiro..?" The way his name fell from your lips sent a shiver up his back, as though he had been dunked in ice water. It was quick, more on instinct then anything really, as you both grabbed at each other. Clinging to the other as you ran your hands over the other. His hands running through your hair, then grabbing at your face and staring deep into your eyes while his watered.

Quickly pulling you away from the crowded area, he led you into a back alley. Quickly trapping you in his arms, chest-to-chest, he held you as he buried his face in your hair, inhaling deeply. Wrapping your arms around his waist you held him tightly, taking in the smell of his cologne, Hugo Boss, you'd never forget that smell, it would always drive you crazy whenever he wore. The smell nearly as comforting as his arms, the tan, muscular limbs wrapping around you in a vice. You both pulled back after long minutes of the tight embrace, before you could say anything though, his lips were already on yours as he buried his hands deep into your hair. Your hands coming up to run up under his shirt, feeling the hard muscle of his chest and abs, trying too recite everything to memory as he pulled closer. Only pulling back too catch his breath before diving back in and holding your face in his hands, rubbing his thumbs over your cheeks, as if, too also recite everything to memory. Reluctantly pulling away, he leaned his forehead against yours as he panted against your lips, your breath mixing with his as he stared you down with those wide black eyes, no longer empty and cold. Instead they were warm and loving, his pupils dilated as he took you in, the image of you dying in his arms coming back as he held you closer while he felt his eyes got wet, the salty liquid dripping down his cheeks. "Don't ever leave me again... I can't be without you baby, you're all I ever think about, I need you, I love you so much."

[miowritings]

Pjsk boys x gf who is older than them so she treats and calls them her baby? Fem reader plzz alsp hcs plz, tyy <3

Pampering♡

Tsukasa tenma, rui kamishiro, toya aoyagi, akito shinonome x F! Reader(separate)

✮A/N: yayayayayy fantasista gang!! Was gonna post this on tsukasa's birthday but forgot.. so sorry if it looks rushed!! :'(( idk if you wanted me to include len and kaito aswell but you only said pjsk boys and kaito and len arent from pjsk so i decided not to add them..

✮Synopsis: general hc's for the squad🔥🔥

✮Contains: no warnings! May have a few grammatical errors but thats it, fem reader!(Though pronouns arent mentioned)

✮Tsukasa tenma!

-When tsukasa started dating you, he would think that he would be the clingy one, that was a mistake..

-whenever both of you were around, he would often get teased by his friends, but nevertheless, it was funny, as he was a grade lower than yours..

-both of you would get nicknames such as father and mother, cause of how mature you look and how you care for others as if theyre your children, and tsukasa? He cares for his peers as if they were his siblings! A good match if you say so;)

-speaking of nicknames, he loves making you nicknames and so do you! He'd call you my love, darling or honey, you? You love calling him sweetheart, darling too, and babe

-whenever he's practicing his lines for a show, you'd sometimes sneak up on him and hug him from behind, at first he'd be surprised, but eventually getting used to it

-despite you being the oldest in the relationship, he's more reliable than you.. he loves helping you with your studies.. even though you're the oldest, and you love giving him your old notes, occasionally, both of you spend more time at the library

-when cuddling, his favorite position would be him resting on your chest, your taller, so he likes to be the little spoon sometimes.., he'd nuzzle into your chest and would fall asleep then and there

-tsukasa would pout when you kiss anywhere his face except for his lips, its funny how he gets red, expecting you to kiss his lips but i. Reality? You would kiss him everywhere but his lips

-"hey.. are you doing this on purpose..?! I didnt do anything wrong did i..?"

-when visiting his place, saki would be the first one to greet you, hugging you while squealing, oh how she loved to have an older sister!!

-nevertheless, tsukasa likes the way you cling onto him, he feels warm.. back then.. he didnt receive that much attention from his parents as his parents were busy taking of his little sister, so, seeing you shower him with love and affection, makes him feel lucky and proud to have you.

✮Rui kamishiro!

-Rui doesn't mind being pampered by you, heck he loves it!! Sometimes he'll do the pampering but it's mostly just you :3

-Rui may be sly and cunning, but he blushes ALOT when you call him any nicknames such as "baby" or "honey" he'll give you an awkward chuckle accompanied by the blush on his cheeks<3

-Rui doesn't really care about you being older than him, that gives him an excuse to act immature just to tease you!

-His classmates often envy him of having a girlfriend that's older than him, some boys would come up to him and ask "howd you manage to get her?" Or something like that..! Though all he replies are shrugs..

-WILL BRING YOU WHENEVER HE GOES TO THE CINEMA, like, rui's probably 17-18 considering he's a 3rd year, you're probably 18-19?? He'll bring you to the cinema to watch horror movies that are too graphic for the younger audiences

-would sometimes ask you for the lessons you learned during your school year, so that he could learn in advance!

✮Toya aoyagi!

-will definitely look up to you!!

-gives you the biggest amount of respect since youre older than him

-would often ask you for advice since youre older than him, he feels as if he had some kind of strong bond with you, sometimes it would be simple ones, and sometimes its really confusing to the point you search it up

-will blush awkwardly when you call him "baby" or any other lovely nicknames

-WOULD BE EASILY SOFTENED WHEN YOU CUDDLE WITH HIM!! his fave cuddling position would be where his head would rest on his lap, he likes it when you play with his hair TRUST!! He'll easily calm down when you tell him some assuring words while playing his hair<33

-really, REALLY likes it when you pamper him with care and love, do you notice his parents? Sure they're not that good but.. they're somewhat distant? So.. having you close by him is pretty new.. at first he would be easily flustered but eventually, he'd get used to it

-Toya here is very reliable, sometimes the other way around, both of you take turns when helping each other, he's pretty mature so when you act "childish" he'll simply tell you so!

✮Akito shinonome!

-when akito first met you, he would put on his "nice guy persona" time gradually passes by and he put the mask away

-isnt that used to receiving affection.. when you call him baby or pamper him even just a bit, he gets red and would often murmur out something or look away

-has deep respect for you, since your older than him, its obvious he'd treat you much nicer and respectful

-does tease you here and there.. would sometimes tell you your shoes are untied only to find that they werent..

-accepts any forms of gifts you give him... Even if theyre a bit.. cringey.. still he finds it cute

-SUCKS AT STUDYING, will always ask you to teach him, if not, lets you answer his homework

-"hey.. uh y/n? Could you help me out here?" He asks, showing you a math problem he finds difficult

-your older than him so its just like the others, would ask you for advice whenever he's lost

-secretly loves it when you pamper him with affection, sure he may be gruffy or rude to others, but deep down he's very clingy and would get protective of you when something isnt right..

Taglists..

Rui kamishiro: @nogenderbee