#⋆ ASKS. ࿏ 🔥 ۞ 🔥 ࿏ Always Room for a Friend of Rock! ⋆

[imyourbratzdoll]

The “best friends older brother vibes” are awesome 🥵🔥🤤 maybe u stayed for a sleepover and u hear some noise from his bedroom and you can’t see what he’s doing so u open the door but it makes noise and he tells u he can show u what he’s doing 😅🥵

Thank u for gifting us all your stories! You’re so talented!🥰🌟

hey honey! thank you so much! I hope you like it!

summary - you are staying over at your best friend's house and unable to fall asleep, you stumble across her older brother doing something.

warning - smut, masturbating, voyeurism, swearing, innocence kink, slight oral sex.

18+ only please, the gif I use isn't mine, divider by @newlips

You were confused. You had agreed to a sleepover at your best friend’s house. You were excited when she asked and missed her so much while she was away. Right now, she was fast asleep, and you were struggling to fall asleep, so you decided to get up and get something to drink. But while walking down the hallway, you heard strange noises coming from her older brother’s room. You’d never admit that you found the older man attractive. He had always made you feel funny and tingly between your thighs, and you were confused about why.

You begin to make your way to his room, curious to see if he is okay. His door is closed, which makes your brows furrow, wondering how you are supposed to check on him. The noises seem to get louder and louder, more strained. You reach forward and grasp the door handle, turning it and peeking through. Your eyes fall onto Sebastian and widen as his pretty blues connect with yours. Sebastian grunts, “What are you doing opening my door without permission, Angel?” 

You bite your lip, chewing nervously on your bottom lip as your cheeks become red from embarrassment. “I–I thought you were hurt or something… Heard some funny noises….” You rock on your heels, clasping your hands together as you bow your head, feeling stupid for opening the door. 

“Aww, you were worried about me, Angel? That’s so cute. Why don’t you come in and close the door behind you. I’ll show you what I’m doing.” You look up with wide eyes, and a smile blooms as you follow his orders and skip over to him happily. Standing beside his bed, you look down at him. Sebastian’s eyes move down your body slowly, feeling your cock twitch at what little clothes you are wearing. “Angel, why are you walking around wearing that? You’re giving a guy dirty thoughts.” You look down at him confused, plumped lips pouted, and brows furrowed. Sebastian groans, noticing the look on your face. “Shit, are you really that innocent?” 

“What do you mean? I–I’m not….” You whimper, wondering what he means by everything, not understanding a word he’s saying.

Sebastian grins, patting the bed. “Sit down, Angel. I’ll happily show you what I was doing.” You sit and smile happily, following his movements, and let out a gasp as he pulls the blanket away to reveal his cock, long, thick and veiny. Slick with lube and pre-cum, red and throbbing with how horny he is. A whimper escapes you as you stare wide-eyed, licking your suddenly dry lips. “You like what you see, Angel? This is my cock, and I’m so fucking hard. I’ve been thinking about you for so fucking long now. You wanna see me touch myself?” You nod, feeling your mouth water at the thought of this large, handsome man touching himself to the idea of you. Sebastian pants, wrapping his massive hand around his thick member and squeezing it as his eyes stay connected with yours. A soft whimper leaves his lips as he begins to stroke. “Fuck, Angel. Do you see what you do to me?” His head tilts back as his movements become faster, squeezing harder. His other hand moves down and massages his balls, tugging at the heavy sacks as he whimpers and moans. “F–fuck, Angel… Feels so good. I’m so hard for you, fuck.” 

You whine, squeezing your legs together as you watch him destroy himself, your knickers becoming damp from the slick between your thighs. Your mouth falls open, eyes glued to his throbbing cock, and you begin to rock into the bed, feeling the tingles come back. “D–does it really feel that good?” His eyes move to you, with a brow raised.

“Have you never touched yourself, Angel? Never felt so good that you were in bliss?” You shake your head, and the confession causes Sebastian to groan, eyes rolling to the back of his head. “Jesus, Angel! That’s so fucking hot.” He whimpers, stroking faster, feeling his end approaching rapidly, his balls tightening, and his cock twitching. His thumb swipes across his tip, collecting his pre-cum from the slit, rubbing and stroking. “Oh, Angel! I’m going to cum!” He grunts, biting his bottom lip as he looks up at you, eyes half-lidded and full of lust. “You wanna taste my special cream? Make me happy, Angel?” 

You nod, eyes wide and full of wonder, staring into his eyes. “Yes, please! Please let me have a taste!” You beg and plead, practically whimpering, your brows furrowing with worry that he won’t let you.

Sebastian groans, nodding as he grabs the back of your neck and guides you down toward his throbbing member. “Go on, Angel. Wrap your pretty lips around my tip and suck until your mouth fills with my cream.” You nod and timidly open your mouth, wrapping your lips around the large mushroom tip and beginning to suck softly. Sebastian’s hips jerk, pushing his cock deeper into your mouth as a strained moan escapes him, his eyes rolling to the back of his head. “Fuck! Angel, your mouth feels like fucking heaven!” His hand rests on the back of your head as you continue to suck his tip, his other hand stroking his thick base, feeling close to cumming from the feel of your lips around him. “Are you sure you’re so innocent? You suck cock like a pro!” His eyes glaze over as he watches you suck on him, feeling his mind become numb as his hips jerk up, his toes curl, and thick, white spurts of cum shoot out of his tip and deep into your throat.

You whimper, choking a bit as you swallow large amounts of his special cream, lapping at his tip to clean him up before you pull away and sit on your knees, looking at the older man with wide eyes. “Did I do good?” 

Sebastian huffs, sagging back into his bed as he looks at you through dazed eyes. He nods. “Yeah, Angel. You did amazing. Come here.” He gestures, opening his arms and smiling softly as you slowly crawl into them and curl into his sweaty form. Soft giggles escape you as you finally get to be close to the man you have a crush on.

thank you for reading!

feedback and reblogs are greatly appreciated.

[maraschinomerry]

Rock Paper Scissors

Pairings: George Karim x gn!reader, background Locklyle

Summary: George is your best friend, Lucy's convinced there's more to it but he's not your type... is he?

Content: friends to lovers, oblivious flirting, misunderstanding, light swearing and suggestive thoughts, kisses

A/N: it's officially 1 year since I posted my first Lockwood & Co fic!! Thank you all for making it such an incredible year and continuing to support my writing, it means the world to me ❤️ and thank you to the Multiverse of George for fuelling the buff!George fire 🔥 I've even made a montage so everyone can see the vision, plus the gif above of George swinging the chains he's definitely strong 💪

Word count: 4.2k

Taglist: @neewtmas @marinalor @ettadear @honey-with-tea @mischiefmanaged71 (let me know if you want adding or removing!)

Ever since you'd started working for Lockwood & Co, you and George had had the most playful rivalry.

It had started on the very first day, when you came for your interview. Lucy had welcomed you into the living room while George went to fetch the biscuits. After breezing through the tests, Lockwood gestured to the plate still being clutched by the other boy.

“Biscuit?”

You frowned at the boy in the armchair, who looked like the last thing he wanted to do was to share. “Am I supposed to fight you for them or something?”

George had the audacity to snort. “In your dreams.” But then he did offer you the plate, albeit reluctantly.

Once you got used to one another, you found that you actually got on really well and gradually he became your best friend, but by then you'd set a precedent that neither of you wanted to drop.

“We're heading out soon,” Lucy informed you both as she slid cups of tea across the table. She and Lockwood had an appointment with a client, leaving you and George behind to keep working. “Can one of you oil the chains ready for tonight?”

You turned to George; he was already looking at you. A gleam came to his eye.

“Rock paper scissors?”

“You bet,” you grinned, already raising your hand. It took a few attempts, as you'd done it so many times by now that the two of you knew what each other was planning before it happened, but eventually you lost. Sticking your tongue out, you picked up your cup and headed towards the basement. Lucy followed you down.

“Can I ask you something?” she began cautiously.

“Course you can.” It wasn't like Lucy to not just ask straight out. This was odd.

“What's going on with you and George?” This was definitely odd. “It feels like you've gone past teasing, you're almost flirting with each other.”

Your gaze flew to your friend, who had lingered on the stairs. Was she being serious? “It's not like that, Luce,” you replied, wondering if it was warm in the basement or if it was just you. “I love him to bits, but the same way I love all of you. He's just not my type.”

Her eyebrow quirked up at that. “You have a type?”

“Don't say that like you don't,” you hit back. “You and Lockwood are made for each other! And George is great, really, but I prefer guys a bit more… buff?”

Lucy nodded. “Interesting.” It was spoken with the air of someone who knew exactly why it was interesting and someone who was absolutely not going to explain why. “Well… just don't rule anything out, but please be careful. I love you both too and I'd hate to see either of you get hurt.”

It was touching to hear her so candid about her feelings for you both. “I won't, I promise.”

—

You always forgot how ridiculously heavy the chains were. Just trying to hoist them up to make sure you'd oiled all the way round each joint was a workout. It was only adrenaline that carried you through working with them on cases. Thank goodness you were almost finished - your arms were beginning to ache and you were sure you were coated in sweat.

“Need a hand?” George's voice drifted from the stairs. You hadn't heard him come down, probably drowned out by the clanking links and your strained grunts, but there he was, sitting on one of the lower steps and watching you in amusement.

“You mean you want me to dishonour the sacred pact of rock paper scissors?” You mimed fainting in shock, taking the opportunity to slump back on the pile of chains and let the tension dissipate from your shoulders.

He chuckled, climbing down the final few steps and holding out his hand. “Will the sacred pact allow a lunch break? I made soup.” He'd got you there and he knew it. You loved his soup. Grinning, you accepted his hand and he pulled you away from the cold, hard metal.

There were two steaming bowls already set out on the table when you got back to the kitchen, and beside yours was a plate of sandwiches, cut exactly how you liked them.

“You're the best.”

“I know,” George smirked. He was eating with one hand, the other scribbling away on the Thinking Cloth. As he became more engrossed, he leant further forwards, his dark curls flopping over his brow. It was fascinating watching him get so engrossed in his work, the whole world melting away around him. Once you finished eating, you glanced across and took his empty bowl from in front of him. He looked up sharply, snapped from wherever his thoughts had taken him.

“Sorry, didn't mean to disturb you,” you mumbled.

“No, it's fine. We should probably get packed.”

You followed him down to the basement and pulled your kit bags from the shelf. Set side by side on the table, you both began to load up.

“You can carry the chains,” you told him over your shoulder as you picked up a half-empty box of flares and emptied it into your bag.

“Hey, you're the one who lost!”

“Only for cleaning them, I've done my bit.”

He huffed, but gave you a smile as he made his way over to the mound of chains. Your eyes widened as he scooped up a whole length in one easy movement and gave them a quick shake loose. You'd spent nearly quarter of an hour trying to manoeuvre that section earlier.

“How the hell did you do that?”

“They're not that heavy,” he shrugged, then added with a cheeky raised eyebrow, “or at least only when you’re trying to clean them.”

You threw the empty cardboard box at his head with a laugh.

—

A week later, the four of you were nestled in the living room. Outside, rain battered against the windows, which were almost being shaken out of their frames by the driving wind. You'd never have guessed it was June; it felt more like January. The fire was lit in the hearth, the occasional crackle of wood splitting the only other sound.

Eventually, Lockwood broke the silence. “I hate to say it, but someone's going to have to go out. We've got no tea left and barely enough food to last until tonight. We can draw straws to make it fair.”

He needn't have bothered. You and George already had your fists raised. One, two, three, paper. One, two, three, rock. Scissors. Paper. Scissors. Rock. Round and round you went, the symmetry only fuelling your competitive natures.

“This is ridiculous,” Lucy muttered. She was right, of course.

You raised your fist higher, leaning forward in an offered challenge. “Right. Arm wrestle. Loser goes.”

George leaned in, resting his elbow on the table. Lockwood and Lucy exchanged wide-eyed glances.

“Y/n…” Lucy began, but you weren't listening. Your elbow was already mirroring George's, hand in his. You weren't sure why you'd expected the easy, flexible grip of holding a rapier, but his fingers were clenched firmly around the back of your hand. Lockwood moved closer and counted you down.

Your hand hit the table almost immediately.

It felt like all the air had left the room. You stared in shock at the boy opposite, the triumphant toothy grin that crinkled his eyes, the unexpected tightness of his shirt sleeve around his arm. The similar tightness in your chest. Interesting.

Some sort of realisation hit you, and your attention shifted to Lucy. The look she was giving you was almost as satisfied as George's. Warmth flooded your cheeks. You drew in a shaky breath as you struggled to drag your eyes away from George's arm, which was still pinning yours to the table. After a moment, you felt his fingers loosen and with some reluctance pulled your hand away. The silence in the room was palpable. Lucy was still watching you in amusement. Lockwood was watching Lucy, trying to figure out why she had that “I know something you don't” look again over a simple arm wrestle. George was watching you too, his expression slowly shifting from victory to concern.

“Y/n? You okay?” he asked quietly. Your thoughts rushed back into your body, snapping your attention into the real world.

“All good,” you mumbled. “Just preparing to get drenched. If I'm not back in 20 minutes, assume I've been blown to the other end of the country.” At least that got a laugh out of Lockwood. Hurriedly, you stood and made your way to the front door. Why had you agreed to this? It was your own fault, of course, for continuing this whole competitive thing with George, but how were you to know he was that strong? A flash of bicep clouded your vision again, and you reached for the door handle before you did something regrettable.

“Hold on,” a voice came behind you. It was him. Keep it together, you told yourself.

“If you're about to volunteer to take my place, go ahead,” you forced yourself to stay casual.

George moved closer, and you swallowed a lump in your throat. “I was actually going to question why you looked like you were about to leave without a coat.” He reached to the rack over your shoulder, lifting yours from its hook.

“That might help.” You knew you were blushing again, but prayed he thought it was just from embarrassment at being so forgetful. Definitely not how close he was, how he was holding your coat in the same hand that had been holding yours moments ago.

—

By the time you made it back to the house, you were soaked to the bone and almost shivering. It seemed like the storm wasn't going to let up until at least the next day, so you'd decided to stock up on plenty of food which had seemed like a great idea until you tried to carry it all home. You'd had to stop several times on the way, ducking into doorways and bus shelters to escape the weather as you swapped hands, flexed your shoulders or relieved your fingers from where the handles of the bags had started to make dents. When you finally made it, you held the door open with one foot as you negotiated the bags in and dropped them unceremoniously on the hall floor. George emerged from the living room, alone this time; Lockwood and Lucy must have gone upstairs or down to the basement.

“You look awful.”

“Aww thanks, you're not so bad yourself,” you joked dryly. Oh god, Lucy was right, you were almost flirting. A shiver ran through you and this time you hoped it was from the cold.

For a second, you thought you saw George's eyelids flutter. “Well, I uh… I ran you a bath to warm you back up. I'll put this away.” He hauled up the bags of shopping with barely a huff, and you tried to reason that he hadn't just carried them through a storm.

The water was soothingly warm and scented with lavender salts, the smell wafting up in delicate bursts as it swirled around, relaxing all the tension in your aching muscles. As you lay peacefully, you reflected on what had happened earlier. You weren't sure you'd ever felt… You couldn't even identify what feelings you'd experienced during the arm wrestle. Shock? Embarrassment? No. It was something else, something that Lucy had noticed immediately and had been trying to get through to your oblivious self. But she was wrong, wasn't she? You said it yourself, you weren't into George, even if he did now fulfil your main criteria. Then again, so did plenty of other guys you'd met. Kipps was quite well built, definitely had muscles, but that didn't mean you'd considered dating him. He wasn't like George though - smart, funny, thoughtful George. You couldn't imagine Kipps running you a bath or making your favourite lunch, or doing any number of the things that with George felt so natural. And there were all the little things you did for him that you'd never do for anyone else. No, there were no two ways about it: you were a pair in whatever capacity that meant.

Still didn't mean you fancied him, you told yourself.

You volunteered to help George with the dishes after dinner that night. It was always nice to be able to spend time just the two of you in sync, but tonight especially you figured it was a good idea to be around him in perfectly normal circumstances. You'd chat or enjoy the companionable quiet, you'd both be at ease; nothing could possibly happen, which would give you time to prove your feelings were a fluke.

George picked up his blue rubber gloves and tossed you a tea towel. He was dressed casually, in sweatpants and an oversized T-shirt (so large that the sleeves almost met his gloves at the elbow). The radio was playing quietly in the background, giving you a welcome distraction. Whenever a song you recognised came on, you'd start humming along or singing under your breath, and George would smile at you, sometimes even joining in. Your heart leapt a bit when he did, but that was nothing, you were just happy to be sharing this moment with your friend. He stuck an arm deeper into the sink to grab something at the bottom and made a small noise. Water had splashed up onto the cuff of his sleeve. You giggled at the look of disgust he made at the wet fabric sticking to his skin. The sound died in your throat when he took off his gloves, draped them on the side of the sink and rolled his sleeves up out of the way. You were so used to him being hidden behind his giant tops, or at the very least being in longer sleeved shirts, that seeing his bicep completely exposed was a shock in more ways than one. It wasn't much wonder he'd beaten you so easily at arm wrestling with muscles like that. You wondered whether it was just his arms that were so toned, or was the rest of him the same? Was he hiding a set of abs under that T-shirt too? Were his thighs-

“You okay?” George nudged you, and you hastily looked away.

“I was just…” Come on, come on, find an excuse, your brain urged. “...thinking how this means we both got wet clothes today, if you want me to put that top in with my washing after this?” God that was lame. Not much wonder he wasn't interested in you. That wasn't the point, you reminded yourself.

“Oh,” he smiled. “That'd be great, thanks.” He leant over to put a chopping board on the draining rack, and his bicep brushed against yours. A shockwave of warmth resonated through your whole body. Oh.

“Tell you what,” you forced yourself not to stammer, “are you okay to finish up here and I'll go and grab the laundry basket?” He nodded, and you tried not to fall over your own feet as you retreated to the hallway and sucked in a breath to calm your racing heart. Oh.

—

You cursed yourself for ever starting this. No, this was Lucy's fault for pointing it out. No, still your fault.

Being around George was becoming unbearable. Not for anything he'd done, rather the things he wasn't doing. He was carrying on exactly as he always had, that inimitable blend of playful and caring, and it was driving you mad not knowing whether he meant any of it in the way you wanted him to. You couldn't say anything, of course. If you were wrong, it would mess up the whole dynamic of the group. That would hurt almost as much as any rejection. But the more things went on, the more you took notice of the little moments between you, the more your feelings grew until it felt like they would crawl out of your chest.

“What the hell were you thinking?” George snapped at Lockwood. He and Lucy had been out on a case which went badly, and now the four of you were sitting at the dining table in the early hours, George applying butterfly stitches to a cut on Lockwood's arm and you cleaning a couple of scratches on Lucy's face. The misty gloom of the night outside the window reflected the atmosphere within.

“I was thinking,” Lockwood snapped back, “that we only had to handle a couple of Type Ones, according to your notes.”

“I told you those weren't finished!”

“Well maybe next time, don't get distracted.” Was it your imagination, or had his gaze flickered to you?

“Maybe next time,” George replied darkly, “do your own research.”

“Fine.” Lockwood pushed his chair back and stalked from the room. Lucy shot you both an apologetic grimace and followed.

George began pacing round the kitchen, hands twitching angrily. You stayed at the table, knowing it was best to give him the space to say or do whatever he needed to let his feelings out. You were there if he needed you.

“Can you believe him?” It was rhetorical, you'd heard him say it enough to know, so you waited for him to continue. “We end up in this situation almost every week, because he's too reckless to wait! I know he'd rather be in the action, but he'd be able to do all that more if he'd let me give him the right information first.”

You gently waded in, trying to be reassuring. “We all know how useful your research is; he just gets overeager, especially when Lucy's involved.”

“I know you know how important it is,” his words sent butterflies through you, “but Lockwood just…” He gave a frustrated huff. “Maybe I should make him do all the legwork for a change.” You tried very hard not to think about whether George's legs were as muscular as his arms.

“I'll support whatever you decide, but for what it's worth I think you should just talk to him.”

He sighed heavily, placing his hands flat on the table and allowing his head to drop. “You're right. Thanks, y/n.” The sincerity in his voice caught you off guard, as did his deep brown eyes as he raised his head to look at you. You were already distracted by the tension which lingered in his shoulders, the rigidity of his arms as they supported his weight, the way he had leaned into the pose so much that now when he looked up his face was so close it almost filled your vision. You swallowed nervously.

“Any time. I- I have to go.” You stumbled up from your chair, ignoring George's confused stare and sounds of protest as you practically bolted from the room.

—

You lay on your bed in the attic, tears slowly soaking into the pillow you'd buried your face in. This was the end; it had to be. You couldn't carry on working for the agency like this. If George had shown any interest it would be okay - Lockwood and Lucy managed to balance being a couple who worked and lived together, there was no reason you two couldn't do the same, but it could never work being so one-sided. You'd just keep being weird, struggling to hold your nerve around the boy until it would start bleeding into cases and Lockwood would have no choice but to fire you for everyone's safety, if you hadn't already got one of you hurt by then. Not to mention the emotional hurt. It would happen either way, but at least if you walked away now you could control it.

“Y/n?” Lucy's voice came tentatively from the bottom of the steps. “George said you ran off, is everything okay?”

You flipped onto your back, drawing in shuddering breaths to recover from almost suffocating in the pillow. “You were right, Luce.” There was movement on the steps, but you kept your eyes on the ceiling. You couldn't bear to look at anyone right now. “I tried so hard to make sure neither of us got hurt, but George doesn't love me back and now I feel like even if I stay I'm going to lose him.”

The silence that followed dragged on longer than you could bear. Why wasn't she saying anything? You forced yourself to sit up.

George stood at the entrance to your room, eyes wide and lips parted.

You scrambled to your feet. “Shit! I mean, hi, um… how long have you been there?”

George continued to stare.

“I'm so sorry,” the words were rushing out of you now, “I just panicked but I don't want to make things weird so can we just pretend-”

“What do you mean, ‘doesn't love me back'?” he interrupted quietly.

You froze. There was no mistaking it: he'd heard you basically say you loved him and now there he was looking like the mere concept was so unbelievable, like the option hadn't even crossed his mind. Why would it? Time stretched on as you fought the urge to run again, as far as the ever-widening space between you would allow. Neither of you had moved, but you could feel the room expanding around you to make room for the bottomless pit you wanted to crawl into. “I…” you drew in a slow, deep breath, “I was fine just being friends but Lucy got in my head about you being exactly my type and now I think I'm actually flirting while you're still just pretending and I'm sorry…” Tears were pricking at the corners of your eyes and you hurriedly looked away, hoping he wouldn't see.

George stepped closer, and you shrunk even further into yourself. Your heart skipped a beat when he gently tilted your chin up to meet his surprisingly soft gaze. “I meant, why do you think I don't love you back?”

You faltered. Was he saying what you thought he was? “Well, I mean, I thought I'd made things super obvious and awkward but you didn't change so I thought you weren't interested.”

George's hand was still on your chin and his thumb rubbed soothingly across your cheek, wiping away the single tear that had spilled. “I thought you weren't interested! You normally go for those muscly gym guys so I figured I'd take whatever I could get with the arm wrestles and stuff, but then you started avoiding me so I thought you were done with it.”

A small laugh escaped you, and he looked at you in confusion. “Have you seen yourself?” Hesitantly, you raised a hand to his bicep, marvelling at finally being able to feel the muscle instead of just staring at it, and more amazed at the way the boy responded to your touch, drifting closer until you were barely inches apart.

“So then why did you run?” His voice was whisper soft against your face, eyes gazing down at you with an overwhelming blend of sincerity, bewilderment and something like longing. His cheeks were tinted as pink as you knew yours were.

“Got flustered.”

“Flustered? You? I don't believe you.” A smile tugged at the edge of his lips, the playfulness you were used to creeping back into his voice. It was such a relief to feel the tension dissipating from the room, to have your George back, that you buried your head in his shoulder with a giggle. He laughed too, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Oh, I see, you really want to do this? Okay, let's see ‘flustered y/n’ at their best.”

You yelped in surprise as his other arm hooked under your legs and swept you off your feet, your arms flying up round his neck for support. His arm was tense across your back but he looked the most relaxed he'd been since he walked in, and he shifted you closer to press a quick kiss to your lips before setting you down on the bed and sitting beside you.

“Lucy's going to be very smug about this, you know,” he nudged you.

“I know,” you whined, burying your face in your hands. “Rock paper scissors for who has to tell her.” George laughed again and placed his arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer as you leant into the embrace.

“Is this just a ploy to get more hugs?”

“Is it working?”

In response, he brought his other arm around your waist and kissed your forehead. You smiled, leaning up to kiss him properly, and he reciprocated eagerly.

—

Lucy had left George alone on the steps to your room once you started your confession, giving you both a bit of privacy, and decided when he didn't come back downstairs immediately that things had either gone very badly or very well. She believed, and hoped, that it was the latter. Her suspicions were confirmed when she came to tell you she'd made breakfast and found you fast asleep, wrapped in George's arms.

[reidsdimples]

After Hours

Spencer Reid x Reader

18+🔥

Spencer Reid Smut ‼️ Friends to lovers

You sneak Spence into a public library after hours🫢

“We can’t be here right now,” Spence whispers as he glances around the dimly lit street.

“Shh,” you shush him.

You grab his forearm and urge him to follow you to a small door at the back of the brick building. You furnish a single key and quietly unlock it.

“Where did you get that?” His pushes.

“I know a guy who knew I guy that worked her,” you grin mischievously. “Come on, you know you want to,” you elbow him and push the door open.

The library has been closed for hours and you’re enjoying making Spencer squirm as he wars with the thrill of getting into a library that’s closed and the moral dilemma of trespassing.

“I am only agreeing to this to see those books they keep in the temperature controlled cases,” he sighs and slinks into the small room behind you.

You and Spencer have been friends for a few years, working closely in the BAU, and bonding over your own interest in law and his knowledge in well… everything.

He pushes some strands of hair from his forehead with long delicate fingers and adjusts his shoulder bag. His hair is shorter than usually but it suits him.

“You do know the penalty for trespassing in Washington, DC is a fine and up to 6 months in jail,” he turns to you.

“I think we’ll be alright,” you grin and tap your badge.

After about an hour of roaming the shelves, he finally becomes more relaxed. He’s crouch on the floor, examining a stack of old documents from a filing cabinet. Books are scattered around him chaotically.

You watch for a moment as his fingers work to trace over the text, his brain working exceptionally quick to intake the information instantaneously. You always find yourself amazed at the way his brain works.

The small crush you’ve harbored for him has been tucked tightly away. Keeping things professional is essential in the line of work the two of you share and you won’t jeopardize the friendship. Still, you allow yourself moments to admire him in all of his beauty.

His tongue darts out and swipes his bottom lip like it always does when he’s focused, his brow furrows slightly as he reads, and he mouths words here and there. He rocks back on his heels and sits on the carpet next to a bookshelf.

“Okay brainiac, I have a game,” you bounce into the room hold the stack of books. He looks up at you curiously, his brown eyes like honey in the dim light. You swallow.

“A game?” He asks.

“I found the most random and niche books I could, I’m gonna hold them up and you’re going to give me a synopsis. I’m positive I’ve found one that will stump you,” you smile and sit with your criss crossed in front of him.

“I haven’t read every book,” he starts. You raise your eyebrows at him. “Just most of them,” he shrugs.

You hold up a book about gardening and he gives you a run down of it.

“Why did you read this?” You ask.

“I skimmed it in high school,” he appears please with himself. You hold up another;

“Let me save you some time,” he grabs the other six books. “Lovers during World War Two, the rise of buddhism in western culture, lame romance about a cowboy… who dies at the end…” you snatch the book from his hand.

“You are insane!” You laugh. He smiles and holds up another.

“Julie is married to a man but is in love with his brother and noone has a happy ending,” he gives you a cocky grin but continues. “Inside Richard Ramirez’s life and…” he flips the last book over. “Oh, sci-fi about a journey to the Cigar galaxy,” he finishes.

You snatch it, examine it, and then throw it at his chest.

“What was that for?” He laughs and rubs his hand over the spot you hit.

“You’re too smart for your own good,” you sigh in defeat. He collects the books from around you, his knees knocking into yours.

A spark of heat seems to be exchanged from the touch, his breathing hitching so low that you almost miss it.

He glances up at you for a moment, searching your eyes as a strand of hair falls over his own. You reach out instinctively and push it back.

Your hand lingers in his hair for a moment, your fingertips grazing his scalp. He sucks air between his teeth as though the sensation is shocking to him. You lean forward and push your hand further into his hair, you don’t know why but you feel the need to touch him. He doesn’t protest, he’s staring at your lips.

The two of you gravitate closer, your heart pounding when his hand runs up your arm and entangles your hand further into his hair. He’s urging you to tug, to massage, it feels too good. His hand on yours, laced with your fingers, you oblige and take the control, you push his head closer to yours, overwhelmed by the small noises he’s making in the base of his throat.

His jaw tenses and he’s done with restraint. He drops the books and closes the rest of the space between you, leaning up on his knees to kiss you. You drop your hand from his hair and meet him there, winding your hands into his dark button down shirt, tugging on his loosened tie.

He tastes like mint, like heaven and earth collided, his lips soft and warm. A moan escapes your lips when his hand grips your hip, the other winding into your hair. You can’t believe what’s happening. You don’t want it to stop.

“Spence,” you whimper and pull away to look into his eyes pleadingly. Your grip still from on his tie. He nodded, understanding what you’re asking.

You push him backward, forcing him down onto the floor, a small laugh escaping him. His eyes are wild, his hair tousled, his lips reddened from the kiss, and he’s lying below you allowing you to take control.

Fuck.

You straddle his hips, papers and books being kicked around beneath you. Both of you are panting with need when you kiss him again.

“You’re so beautiful,” he breathes. You pull his shirt open while his hands caress your body, long fingers trailing up and down your spine and hips. It drives you wild, sending heat gathering between your thighs.

That heat builds up so quickly when you begin to kiss his bare chest that you have to grind down onto his growing erection to appease the need.

He tilts his head back, reveling in the feeling of the friction.

“So…” he swallows when you rock your hips again. “So good.”

He pulls your tight sweater up over your head, greedily taking in the view of your breasts in the lace bra. His face is red, he’s burning with need too.

You fumble with his belt and finally pull his cock free, the sight and size mouth watering. You push away the thoughts of Hotch reprimanding the two of you for what you’re about to do. Yet the thought of sinking down onto him is too overwhelming. You don’t care about anything in that moment, but getting him inside of you.

“We’re going to be in so much trouble if someone finds out,” you muse as you tear yourself free of your own pants. He leans up on his elbow and tilts his head as though he hadn’t thought of that yet.

“So no one finds out,” he demands. It takes you off guard when he pushes himself up and takes you to the floor, pinning you beneath him. His eyes darken, his gaze more primal when he leans down to kiss your neck.

His hard cock prods at the entrance of your vagina, your wetness soaking the tip. He slides his cock upward, between the lips teasingly, coating himself in your arousal. Your lips meet and your tongues fight for dominance as he groans. You reach down and grab his cock, stroking it in warning.

“Give it to me Reid,” you bite out.

He smiles but obliges. He pushes himself into you, slowly so that you can stretch around him. You buck your hips up, taking him off guard. He slams his other hand onto the floor to steady himself, the raw pleasure of being seated completely inside of you stealing his breath.

He throws his head back and works himself out slightly before pushing back in.

“Fuck, Spence,” you moan. His shirt is hanging open but you kiss and suck at his chest while he finds his sweet sinful rhythm.

He pushes your legs up and open wider, slamming deeper into you until you’re crying out into the empty library.

“Shhh baby, you’re taking it so good,” he whispers. He doesn’t stop his hard pounding into you, drawing you closer and closer to the edge.

You tighten around him, a warning of your impending orgasm. He smiles knowingly and gives you long slow strokes to ride it out to. Your nails dig into his back as your legs wrap around his hips, greedily taking all of him while you explode around his cock. You pulse around him, squeezing, and practically begging him to cum too.

“Ah-“ he shutters and slows his pace. He doesn’t want to cum yet. He grunts and grabs a fistful of your hair before pushing himself back into you.

He buries his face in your breasts, abruptly biting hard as his hips wind and work his cock in and out of you. He nips at your nipple, causing you to tighten around him. He grins into the soft skin, breathing hard against you. Your hands are in his hair again, holding on as another organs builds within you.

“Reid…” you moan. But he bites you again, thrusting hard as though he needs it more than life, more than oxygen. “Spencer I’m going to cu-“ you don’t get to finish the words.

His hands wind into your hair, yanking your head upward and back and he drives into you with unrelenting speed.

“Fuck,” you swear he groans under his breath.

Your orgasm comes over you without mercy, ravaging your core, blinding you with pleasure, and causing your legs to shake violently around him. He whimpers as you tighten impossibly tight around him and it consumes him.

His hips sputter as he erupts inside of you, pumping you full of him. He slides in and out of you, rolling his hips a few more sinful times as though to enjoy the sensation. As though to solidify the memory of how it feels to be inside of you.

His kisses you deeply and buries his face in the crook of your neck as you hold each other.

Neither of you want to be pulled from the moment, so you lavish in the afterglow in each other’s arms.

[diazsdimples]

Hi, so this is going to be a group order. I need

❄️❄️ 😴 😴 😴 🔥🔥 🩰 🩰 🩰 🩰 🩰 ⚕️ ⚕️ ⚕️ ⚕️ ⚕️👨‍❤️‍💋‍👨👨‍❤️‍💋‍👨👨‍❤️‍💋‍👨

…and I think that’ll be all for today? Oh, and can I get a carrier for all that? Thx 😘💞🦛 (aka you’re the bestest husband ever and I’m feral for all the things)

I feel like a harried fast food worker completing this! Would you like a toy with your Happy Meal?

❄️ - Frostpunk AU

Buck catches him easily and pulls him against his chest. He rocks them from side to side, his cheek pressed against the back of Eddie’s head. Eddie shakes in his arms as his breaths come hard and fast, making Buck worry that he might pass out. “Hey,” Buck says, moving his hand so it’s pressed against Eddie’s chest. “Breathe with me, Eddie, you’re hyperventilating. Come on, in for 3 seconds, out for three seconds.”

😴 - Sleepy Mornings

Sleep had come much easier with Christopher in the room, bundled up in Buck’s arms. It was as though his subconscious knew the boy was safe, that Buck could rest. It was surprisingly bright when Buck finally woke. He blinked blearily as he pulled himself from the haze of sleep, rubbing his fists into his gritty eyes. At some point during the night, Christopher had scootched across the bed to Eddie’s side, and he lay with his back to his father’s chest, using Eddie’s arm as a pillow. Eddie’s hand stretched across the bed, his fingertips just barely grazing Buck’s shoulder. Buck swallowed down a rapidly rising lump in his throat at he took in the two Diazes in front of him. There was a graze over Christopher’s right cheekbone, the skin around it turning purple as a bruise formed, but that aside there was little evidence of the turmoil of the previous day. Every breath of Eddie’s ruffled Christopher’s curls, and there was a damp patch on Eddie’s sleeve, just under Christopher’s mouth.

🔥- Sauna Sex

Buck lets out a broken cry as Eddie sucks his nipple, hard. He scrabbles at Eddie’s shoulders, the skin slippery beneath his fingers as the water cascades over them. “G-god, Eddie, stop teasing,” he begs as Eddie grazes his teeth lightly over the sensitive flesh. He squirms in Eddie’s arms, and it has the desired outcome as his cock slips against Eddie’s thigh, granting him the friction he so desperately craves. He shamelessly ruts against Eddie’s thigh, breaths coming out as a quiet ah ah ah as the head of his cock catches against Eddie’s hip bone with each thrust. Eddie grabs Buck’s hips, his fingers pressing into Buck’s skin with a bruising touch, and he stills Buck’s movements with a warning nip to the soft skin of his neck. “Stop.”

🩰 - Ballet AU

“Hey, why don’t we introduce you to everyone?” Tommy suggests. He gestures to the steadily-filling room, small pockets of ballerinas scattered from one end of the barre to the other, with others stretching near the benches. Buck has always been reasonably good at making friends, with his boisterous personality and his ability to “fake it till you make it”, but he must admit that the sheer number of incredibly talented people is a little bit intimidating. However, Tommy and Eddie take him under their wing, as it were, and before long he’s been introduced to just about everyone. It’s hard to ignore the way Eddie and Tommy stay close to him the whole time. There’s always a hand on his arm or the small of his back, and at one point he turns to wave at someone who called out his name and he crashes straight into Tommy’s chest. It gets to the point where one of the ballerinas – Amy, he thinks her name is – asks how he knows Eddie and Tommy. He just laughs somewhat awkwardly and says he doesn’t, that they just met today. She gives him a bit of a weird look but before she can ask a follow up question, he’s whisked off towards a couple that have been watching him with great interest. “Buck, this is Hen and Chimney. They’re our resident physiotherapist and choreographer, and aside from Bobby will probably be the people you’ll see the most,” Eddie introduces. Chimney (he assumes Chimney is the lithe, Korean man he’s seen prancing around the room) gives him a scrutinising look, and starts circling Buck, poking and prodding at his biceps and abs. “How are your pliés? Can you lift well? How many times can you rotate during a pirouette?” Eddie leans close to Buck and whispers to him conspiratorially. “Ignore him, he’s like a pretentious chihuahua. His bark is worse than his bite.” Chimney digs his elbow into Eddie’s ribs in retaliation.

⚕️- Doctor's AU

It’s all hands on deck. Hen and Eddie push the bed down the corridor, heading towards the OR conveniently nestled in the middle of the delivery suite. Bobby holds Jessica’s hand as they power past the other rooms, reassuring her and taking her through the consent forms. Eddie can faintly hear him explaining their need to do a general anaesthetic, what that’ll mean for her and her baby, and Jessica just nods mutely. Her mascara has left back streaks down her face as tears quietly slip from her eyes, and there’s a hand gently cradling the faint swell of her abdomen. They pull in to the OR and the scrub nurses immediately get situated on the operating table. Eddie doesn’t quite run into the scrub area but it’s a near thing, especially when the blankets are pulled away and he sees the absorbent cloth beneath her legs slowing taking on more blood. Buck is right behind him, scrubbing so he can receive the baby when it’s born. “You okay?” he asks, bumping Eddie’s shoulder as Eddie scrubs under his nails. The yellow of the iodine flows down his arms, dripping off his elbows and into the sink with a dull plunk, plunk, plunk. Eddie resists the urge to rest his head against Buck’s shoulder. They’re not in their sterile gowns yet, so it wouldn’t be unsafe, as such, but they haven’t come forward with their relationship yet either. With all their friends only a flimsy glass door away, it would be too risky. “Yeah, this is going to be a fucking close one, I think. You’re going to be ready to take the baby as soon as it’s born?”

👨‍❤️‍💋‍👨 - Disaster Date Eddietommy Fic

Trying to get Eddie Diaz and Tommy Kinard to talk about their feelings is an exercise in extreme futility, according to Buck. The three of them have been together for five months now, and practically live with one another. They’re at Eddie’s house more often than not, and if they’re not there then they’re at Tommy’s apartment, or very rarely, at the loft. Two months ago, Buck told Eddie that he loved him, and Eddie said it back immediately. He repeats it through the day like a mantra. “I love you, Buck,” as he kisses his shoulder. “I love you, Buck,” as he hands Buck his coffee in the morning. “I love you, Buck,” as they throw their turnouts on before racing off to tend to a burning building. He told Tommy he loved him a week later, and although it had been a few days, Tommy took Buck in his arms and whispered, “I love you, Evan,” as he held him in the darkness of the kitchen.  Tommy and Eddie though? Absolutely fucking useless. Buck knows they love each other – he sees it in the way they get all gooey when Eddie makes Tommy coffee or when Tommy comes home to find Eddie covered in soap suds cause he’s washed Tommy’s truck. They just cannot fucking say it to each other.

[sugdenlovesdingle]

🐶📷🎶 for the Tarlos asks!

🐶 What are TK and Carlos' favorite dog breeds? Which one do they get if they eventually get a dog of their own?

I can see Carlos wanting a "real dog" - like a German shepherd or maybe a staffie or some other average size breed (like Labrador size-ish). But probably also something fluffy like Buttercup because you can't tell me he wouldn't love cuddling a big fluffy beast when TK is at work.

TK would pick the saddest looking little bundle of misery at the shelter (adopt, don't shop, people) and go "I want that one" and just love it and spoil it and give it the best food/treats/toys money can buy. No matter the breed or size. If it's a tiny chihuahua it's coming home with them, if it's a Great Dane Carlos better make sure there is room in the Camaro for a crate - and they'll have to invest in a bigger bed because the "baby" sleeps in bed with them.

📷 Walk us through the different photo albums TK and Carlos keep on their phones.

I feel like TK is too chaotic for actual albums - other than how his phone sorts his pictures automatically. He'll take pictures of everything. Carlos looking exceptionally beautiful (just watching TV at home in his oldest and comfiest pjs), pictures from their catan hangs, selfies, some nsfw pics and videos (Nancy learnt the hard way not to scroll through his camera roll), random stuff he comes across when he's at work and sends to Carlos - which can be anything from a cute dog to funny holiday decorations. And every single pride flag he sees in June - no matter how small. He does have every picture of their wedding and some of his mum marked as favourite for easy access.

Carlos is a lot more organised and not really one to take pictures of random stuff - though he's doing it more now than back when he and TK first met. The first time he puts his new uniform on, TK is at work and he sends him a mirror selfie, he gets a string of 😍🥵🔥 back and 5 minutes later a video call request.

i think he has albums for important stuff like birthdays and family events. He definitely has every picture taken at their wedding saved in special album. A few he's taken himself, but mostly from their family and friends. His favourite picture is one of the two of them during their first dance his mum took. it's one where he has his back to the camera but you see TK resting his head against Carlos' and just looking blissfully happy. he uses it as wallpaper and lockscreen on his phone and he just likes to look at it whenever he's having a bad day. It's also one he shows to people asking about his husband or his wedding. That and the post cake smash kiss.

He DEFINITELY has some pics and videos that are meant for TK's eyes only and they're carefully hidden away and will never see the light of day.

🎶 It's time to expose these boys' spotify playlists! What are TK and Carlos' favorite genres, artists, songs, etc.

Oh man - don't get me started on music, we'll be here a while lol

I don't use spotify so the boys don't either - fact.

I think TK has a pretty broad taste. Anything from showtunes to the new Linkin Park - and everything in between. He'll sing along to the latest pop sensation that's on the radio 24/7 or something more underground he'll have discovered on insta or a local band playing in a bar or busking on a street corner. I think he's always looking for something new that catches his attention.

Carlos grew up with Latin music from his parents but his sisters were both BIG into boybands so he still knows practically every Backstreetboys/Nsync song by heart. He generally likes music he can dance to but TK has introduced him to some cool bands too over the years and he likes a bit of rock here and there. Though he's more into indie and singer songwriters with a nice melody than the wall of noise TK sometimes likes to listen to. But if he comes home and sees TK airdrumming along to one of his favourite songs he just enjoys the view of seeing his husband happy and carefree. He has a full album of happy TK on his phone too.

thanks for asking, these were fun!

full list tarlos asks

[infinite-hearts-333]

Welcome to my blog! I’m Infinite, a genderless Cryptid of ink, a uni student, full time plant parent, story teller and artist! Feel free to snoop around or leave an ask! Be weary that 80% of the time when you drop an ask I may be asleep, and that with the joy of autism I can take a bit to respond. Please be patient with me, I tend to be slow lol.

As always, have fun, be kind and rock on you crazy beans!

Master Post!

Different aus below!

My old master post that is full of work when I was like. 11. (Read at your own risk, also it’s like 80% sander sides lol)

SR! Ouřa Thorn Spotify Playlist

Pim’s Spotify Playlist (BBI)

Similarity with the Thorns!

Ouřa Thorn Cartoon Universe

Ouřa Thorn Reference!

How Thorn was born! (By stork don’t worry lol)

Goofy Dreamer

Ouřa Thorn factory au

Reference sheet

Experiment 1190 Log.

Crusty ass comic of Pim and Reed meeting

Pim and Reed meeting Rupert

Space Rider OC stufz

“Book one: Meeting”

Ouřa Thorn Reference!

Introduction to Oura Thorn! (The og post)

Meeting Sunny Yolk ☀️

Meeting Sparky and Zelda 🤖🌟

Nightmare <3

The Beast - explained

Ooohhh past lore, how exciting

Support animal! 🫧

Meeting North Heat ❄️🔥

“Book two: THE INTERVENTION”

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5 (TW for blood!)

Reconnect: The Intervention Aftermath

Da Baby cycle

History with sheep

The Beast’s Gear for missions!

Emotional ties to Power

Within the Conference Room (Starring North Heat!)

The Rangers

“Book 3: Golden Threads”

The Light Bringer

Thorn Revamp!

Moving

Bonding of a Family

Clothes reference (starring mini missiles)

Cast Away / Reach Out

Spellcaster au! 🪄

Tay info :3

Tay and Maya 💛💚

Friend hc <333

Darryl and Tay!

Tays dark mode

Coffee spy au

Reference

Concept doodles

Mini comic -North

Meetings with Ñora

Family photo

[max-nico]

I just wanna let you know that your writing is living rent free in my mind and is actively fueling my sonic obsession ♥️♥️♥️/pos

If you're still doing them do you have any headcanons for Knuckles Sonic and Shadow? (the blorbos)

AHHHHH thank you sm sm !!! 🫶🏾🫶🏾

I'm unsure if you mean separate or as a team/working together so I'll try to squirrel in a little of both. I hope this is to your liking 🔥

As a team

I'm pretty sure any team with Sonic on it is just referred to as team Sonic ngl, I don't know what they would be called anyway? Just bc they have so many conflicting traits

They'd probably end up with something generic like team Force or smthn

They all have a music preference but don't mind the music the others listen to

They bond mostly by beating each other up. It's all in good fun. Kinda.

All three of them are quiet one on one but are nothing except overstimulating when together

Sharing Tails is actually the worst thing to ever happen to them, as well as Tails. They fight constantly. All the time.

They rarely ever actually say things that would cause emotional damage, and they're all horrible at apologizing, but they're all learning together. Since everyone understands hating emotional vulnerability so well they cut each other some slack

Normally only two people are fighting at the same time, allowing the other one to act as a mediator. Though, three-way fights aren't unheard-of, and they usually get over it after punching each other a bunch instead of talking through it

Shadow and Knuckles take great joy in teaming up against Sonic when he gets too cocky

Group costume except they all showed up as the same thing on accident and started brawling because of it

Argue like brothers. Everyone is tired of them. Everyone. However, when it comes down to it if you upset one of them you upset all of them. Especially if you upset Sonic, the other two have way less restraint than him. You will get jumped I fear

None of them keep track of anything. They lose things constantly. Important documents? Yeah they're gone. Why'd you even give them those? At this point it's your fault you know how they are. Shadow is the only one with an excuse (I headcanon Shadow still suffers from short term memory problems many years after his not-really death)

None of their sleep schedules line up. Ever. Someone is always running on empty and is cranky all day.

Separate

Sonic is an early bird and takes naps throughout the day. Shadow is a night owl and doesn't really need to sleep as much as the average person. Knuckles goes to sleep super super early and has the sleep schedule of an old man

Shadow spends a lot of time trying to figure out newer technology. Despite being the ultimate lifeform it just really doesn't come naturally to him

Knuckles is the same way except he doesn't care, and only really tries when Tails asks him to

Sonic ends up being shorter than most if not all his friends and is very salty about it

Sonic and Knuckles are audhd

Shadow is autistic OCD <- projecting

Shadow's house is covered in incense. Every room has one. They're all lavender scented.

Shadow hates change, Sonic has mixed feelings

Knuckles is a chronic headache haver. Like no wonder he's always in a bad mood, do you know how hard it is to get Advil when you live on a floating rock

It's okay, Knuckles has tons of natural/organic remedies for most sickness anyway

Sonic is really good at charades

Shadow is super sentimental and refuses to admit it, he has lots of old mementos that he simply refuses to acknowledge but can't bring himself to throw away

Knuckles is fluent in multiple dead languages

Sonic and Knuckles are both super into geography, one is way better than the other one at it but you can choose which is which lol

Knuckles likes grapes but can't stand any of the faux grape flavors of processed foods. He wants grape flavor not purple flavor.

On the same wavelength, he doesn't really f/w processed food in general. He spends most of his time foraging and making his own foods from scratch, most processed foods make him sick

[spacepiratenemo]

Jackpot Space Pirate Crew - Lunaliel Alliqui

#charactersheet Lunaliel Alliqui

☠ Lunaliel refers to “from the moon” : Alliqui refers to the latin word “aliquis/aliqui” which describes a person of importance. A someone, a somebody! A real flex! Alliqui is four years older than his little sister Nemo, for which he cares deeply. He shows his care like most big brothers do. He bullies her in a friendly way, ruffles her hair, throws her across the room or calls her a “mouse” to provoke her. He also is the only person who is allowed to do that! If someone touches Nemo, they’re dead!

🔥 He may be a very good big brother, but he also is a complete jerk, a womaniser, a wanna-be proletarian. According to some, he certainly possesses no more than one brain cell. Despite this, Alliqui was the one who programmed the “personality-disorder” of B.E.N. Afterall, when his little sister were to be angry during his absence, then she had no time to cry ;) One may make out of it whatever they wish to do. But despite having no manners, being flirty, sleeping with an abundance of women, delusionally thinking he is also too cool for this world… Alliqui is a good guy. He will always have his family's back, he is loyal to the core, stupid but determined, silly but someone to depend on. His friends can always fully trust and rely on him. His enemies might not be too lucky to get to know his better qualities.

👾 Alliqui is a fan of rock and metal music, he does love soft underpants and he is completely irresponsible. But he also is the most fun person to be around! Somehow, hanging out with Alliqui always ends up in disastrous adventures.

💀 Alliqui had a huge crush on Lena. The medic of the Crew was not interested at all, since Alli was a jerk! Tough luck! This silly guy also frequently challenged his adoptive father and Capt’n, delusionally thinking he’d stand a chance. He never learned his lesson. However, he was very famous on “Spacegram”. Not for his character, but girls did like his packs.

Age: 22

Height: 287CM

D.o.B.: 7th. May // Taurus

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Straight

Known as: First mate of the Jackpot Space Pirate Crew, best brother but worst example when it comes to showing others some respect, rude jerkbag but funny fella! Loves to brawl, brag, boast and loves dem boobs.

Voice-Claim: // Dawn

Weapon: Wields a Greatsword one handed, uses his other hand for punching

Fighting-Style: Brawler/Swordsman

Music: Metal-Music, Grindcore, Deathcore and as a guilty pleasure: some Lady Gaga!

Favourite Insult: "TF are you? Moonlubber-McGee?"

Traits

Optimist or pessimist? Way too optimistic

Introvert or extrovert? Extrovert ala Supreme! *gotta take pics of those abs for the girls on moonstagram* 

Daredevil or cautious? Daredevil & professional Troublemaker 

Logical or emotional? Emotional Brawler, suffers also from the explosive-temper-syndrome. Is easily distracted by bewbs. Has one brain-cell. 

Disorderly and messy or methodical and neat? Ordered Mess?! Order inside the chaos. Somehow the "system" works. It's a mystery. 

Prefers working or relaxing? Relaxing, Training

Confident or unsure of himself/herself? Delusionally confident

Animal lover? Yepp! Has a soft spot for tiny kittens and tiny cute animals, sleeps with a teddybear. 

The Brawler-Class Lunarian: These types of Lunarians are most common on the moon. King-Classes are known to be basically extinct. At the time of the Jackpots there were only 13 Lunarians left in total. That was their entire population! Two of those Lunarians were of the King-Class, everyone else was a B-Class and Nemo was the only C-Class who had been born in ages. B-Classes lost their wings. They can no longer fly and they are not as huge as the A-Class. They often stand somewhere between 2.5 - 4 metres. They can conjure their own fire and use it in combat; they're also known to have slightly hotter flames than the A-Class.

To his persona: He is either the best brother you could ever ask for, or he is the biggest jerk in the entire solar system. There is no in between! If you dare to hurt his family or friends (or even worse, you dare to touch or hurt his kid sister) he will snap as massively as one could possibly snap. Literally! Once some dude flirted with Nemo and Alliqui punched that guy halfway around the entire moon, before putting his head into the next toilet bowl and making him choke on shit! Afterall... Alliqui is the only one who is allowed to bully his sister! Or annoy her... JUST DON'T TOUCH HER!

Alliqui is also a huge womaniser who has a big crush on the crew's nurse, Lena. (She isn't interested because he is behaving like an idiot, asking her if he could touch her boobies! IDIOT!) He enjoys pranks and loves to prank others. He is brawling, bragging and enjoys to challenge his Capt'n to fist fights. If you have seen the series "Jackass" you can imagine what Alliqui did all day long together with the others. Stunts, silly things, idiotic things and nothing but nonsense for the sole purpouse of shits and giggles.

"When Nemo was born, our beloved mother died and our father turned into a monster. He had been ill for a long time, taken over by something we only call "the madness". A rare disease which sorely seems to be contagious for the King (A) - Class Lunarians. As the illness went on and our mother died, the madness took him over fully and turned this man into a demon. He hated Nemo. That's why he dubbed her "No one". In his twisted mind it was her fault that mother died giving birth to her, but I saw things differently. I loved my little sister from the very start and I thought that I've gotta protect her no matter what.

Father tried to kill my little sister on many occasions and I always stood between him and her. I took the punches. I took the rage. I took all the pain so I could make sure that Nemo wouldn't be harmed. I was awake every single night, every single day. I didn't sleep and made sure that my eyes were always on her. But when Nemo was a few months old, still being an infant, she suddenly began to speak her first words. I will always remember what she said when she was pointing at a book about quantum physics, which also was the first word she has ever said. Shortly after she began to read, then calculate, and then she walked and broke her first physical law. She began to screw around, braze metal scraps, build things and I began to realise what extreme intelligence she was gifted with. THIS WAS INSANE! There was no way anyone could ever comprehend this and despite me being aware of the fact that the extremely rare C-Class mutation is gifted with incredible wit, this was way beyond anything anyone could've imagined.

I knew she was special! I just knew it and when I closed my eyes, I saw her guiding us to a better future!

When I was seven, father had his last strike on her. That fateful night I fell asleep, despite trying to keep awake for years and when I woke up, I heard her cries and screams, begging father for mercy. I can't remember precisely what happened. I snapped and all I saw was black. There is this huge gap in my memory, but eventually this outburst turned into murder. I killed our father... I killed this man... and I don't know if I can ever forget what I've done. To protect Nemo, I told her that father abandoned us and grabbed himself a pack of smokes from the asteroid-belt. I told her that from now on, it'll be only her and I...

Shortly after we left home and wandered the streets of Fairy Vearth, we met my idol sitting in a bar, punching people who dared to tell him that he wasn't cool. Man! That was Capt'n Zekka!! The coolest man in all of the universe and the biggest badass I've ever heard of! I was erratic, going bonkers! My Idol! He just sat there and only looking at him was like looking at a real life superhero...

And when he suddenly talked to us? Dude! That was like a dream come true!

He asked where our parents were and I didn't know how to answer that question really. So, I lied. Telling him that they both went on a venture to the Blue World. Zekka knew that this wasn't true. He recognised me, but he didn't tell me. Our father, Sev, used to be a friend of Zekka and as I later found out, Sev had been dealing with mental decay for a long time.

When I finally told Zekka what really happened, he hugged me. It was the first time anyone, ever, besides my little sister... gave me a goddamn hug.

That this day would be a big turn-around for us was something I couldn't have dreamed of. Zekka adopted us! We now had the coolest, strongest and most badass of all Fathers in the entire universe and if that isn't the best thing ever, I don't know what is!!!

Zekka himself also quickly realised how smart Nemo was and when he saw what that little Mouse could do, his vision of the future changed quickly. She is it! She is the one who will be guiding us to the future! Who will advance our civilisation! And today? Today - The Jackpot Space Pirate Crew is the strongest and most successful Crew on the Moon. This is not because of our Capt'n. It's because of her. Because of my little sister and I couldn't be any prouder! She built our weapons, our security systems, our ship, our camp, our electrical chargers and everything we needed to become truly successful on the harsh, dire and dusty surface of the moon."

"We can do whatever we want! So let's stop this world and get off!" - Lunaliel Alliqui, First Mate

[gardnhee]

fuuuuuuuckkkkk okay okay.

beomgyu. (shocker) BUT HES LIKE really rude and like emo and like hates everyone type beat, everyone but the reader and she like a lil sunflower (me) 💪

MKAY SO. they’re at a party mhm mhm and then he gets a lil jealous hehehehe, takes her home immediately then BOOM raw sex.

BUR BUR BUT BUT it’s like a lil soft because he’s soft for her, ygm ygm?! 😅😅😅😅

that’s all

CONGRATS ON 100 BABY U GON ROCK THIS🔥

100 bash here ! (master list coming soon…)

warning(s). smutsmutsmutsmut, they’re so in love it’s gross, dramatic asf, no foreplay cs reader is needy :3, yn loves his thighs hehehe, lots of dirty talking!!

note. i need emo beomgyu in ways no one will ever understand (TRUTH!)!! This took me much longer than expected > o < please excuse any mistakes as I am not the best at writing smut …

wc. 2k

pairing. emo!bf!gyu x afab!reader

“Baby…” you sigh out, gently rubbing his bleeding lip with soapy finger pads. Beomgyu slumps against the infirmary wall, wincing at the sting, “I know, I know.” It’s cold, chilly air settling on your warm skin like a blanket.

“Well, obviously, you don’t know.” You spit as he frowns, “look, I get it, okay? Don’t nag me.” You scoff, wiping the froth away. “You’re unbelievable, Beomgyu.”

He doesn’t say anything, letting you bandage his wound with the utmost care. A care he doesn’t deserve. Yet you give it, no questions asked.

“I’m sorry, yn.”

“What for?”

“I keep getting into fights and-“ his words come to an abrupt stop, as if pondering on what he’ll say next, “and I keep bringing you stress, it shouldn’t be that way.” Your heart swells, scrunching your nose as you place your hands over his.

“I forgive you.” Your eyes gleam, holding his in a comforting silence, and for the nth time today, he’s fallen hopelessly in love. “Do you…” he clears his throat, “let’s eat, my treat.” He leans in, pecking your lips, “what do you say?”

You tap your chin, gazing at the ceiling with a grin, “I say yes.” Beomgyu claps, hopping off the creaky cot and extending his arm, “come on.”

. ۫ ꣑ৎ .

“Beomgyu, if I asked you to come with me to a party, will you?”

He nods without a second thought, gobbling his food like he hasn’t eaten in years. “Who-“ he continues chewing, pausing for a brief moment before swallowing, “who invited you?”

“Nari, I’ve talked about her, I believe.”

“Childhood friend, right?” You nod, leaning in, “are you sure you want to come?”

“Yes, I’m okay with it. I’ve got nothing to do, so I’d rather spend some time with you.”

“We live together, silly.” You smile as he shrugs, diving back into his food.

People never believe you — an extroverted person — have an introverted boyfriend who’s basically a homebody. But it’s true, he’s not as sociable as you. To be frank, it was extremely difficult to talk to him, let alone get close on a romantic level. Always shy, always — despite his not-so discreet crush — avoiding you.

His social circle consists of nine individuals, including friends, some family, and well, you. So, you can’t help but feel a strong sense of accomplishment when he steps out of his comfort zone. However, it’s not like you repeatedly ask him to tag along, you respect his boundaries and vice versa.

To put it simply, he dislikes people.

“Can you wear that dress I love so much? You know, the red minidress?”

You shriek in excitement, “yes!”

. ۫ ꣑ৎ .

“This is the party in question?” Your boyfriend looks disappointed, turning to you with a frown. “I…guess so? Haha…” you awkwardly scratch your nape, eyes darting around the crowded room. “Jesus, even I know what a good party is supposed to look like…” he mutters, shaking his head in disbelief before regarding you, “I’ll get us some drinks, ‘kay?” Beomgyu pats your shoulder, blending in with the crowd.

Nari approaches you, shuffling through the horde of people with a smile so bright it’s blinding, “hey!” She sing-songs, grabbing your hand and twirling you around, swiftly pulling you in for a hug, “you look so beautiful!” She compliments, eyes sparkling with enthusiasm.

“Thank you, ri. You look amazing yourself.” You study her dress, simple, but cute.

Her cheeks dust over as she waves flustered hands in the air, “I’m flattered!” Her body tilts forward, yelling over the blaring music.

“Whose party-!” Your lips form into a frown as your shoulder dips, “Beom-?” A drunk man stands before you, hair matted with sweat, sporting a crooked smile. “May I help you?” You scowl, shoving his greasy hand away.

“Wanna have fun, sweet thing?” His arms snake your waist, vice grip almost punching the air out of your lungs. You gag, pressure building in your head, pulsing, wrapping its malicious hands around your body. The air is dense, hints of salt and booze dancing in your nostrils till you feel lightheaded.

“Excuse-“ your friend chimes in, trying to push the man away in vain.

“Yn?” Your blood freezes, “what’re you doing?” Beomgyu’s stunned eyes flicker from you to the unknown man. His jaw ticks, handing Nari the cups.

“I-he-“ you stutter, swallowing hard at his stern glare. “Who is he, sweetheart? Your brother?” — “boyfriend.” Beomgyu answers, voice low and menacing, “take your hands off of her.” A demand, not a question. However, the man, in his intoxicated state, doesn’t comply.

“Let her go.” Beomgyu tenses, gaze trained on your waist as his fists curl into white-peaked hills, nails digging into his palms.

“No-“

The man falls limp on the floor, blood spurting from his nose and staining his clothes. “Did you just-“ the words die in your throat, mouth going dry at your boyfriend’s forced smile.

Your ears no longer ring from the piercing boom of the music as three dozen pairs of eyes stay engrossed in the commotion.

“Let’s go.” He grits, bloodied knuckles matching your dress.

. ۫ ꣑ৎ .

Your leg bounces as anxiety rips through your skull, a painful tingle bubbling on your scalp. Beomgyu’s been in the bathroom for at least an hour now, and aside from the fact that you’re sweaty and need to shower, you’re worried. He never takes this long unless he’s genuinely upset about something.

You spring from the bed, reaching for the bathroom door. “Gyu?” He stands in the shower, turning as the water pours over him, sliding from his hair to the tip of his nose and jaw. “May I come in?” Beomgyu nods, liquid clumping to his lashes like droplets on a spiderweb after a rainy day.

Humid air slaps your face, fogging the mirror and shower window. “You okay?” He questions as you stay facing the glass barrier, eyeing his every move.

“I’m okay, are you okay?” It’s hard to breathe as dampness hugs your skin.

“Yeah…” His voice is hoarse, wet palm massaging his red knuckles, “I’m sorry you had to experience that.” You open the glass door, speckles of water bouncing around and bleeding into the fabric of your dress. “Don’t apologize? I mean, I’m good. You protected me.” Beomgyu bites his lip, nodding before stepping closer, “come in, please?” He pleads, rubbing his hands together with a pout.

You slither out of your clothes, trying to ignore the way he ogles at your hardened buds. He pulls you by the waist, hugging you so tight you might actually stop breathing.

Beomgyu rests his chin on the crown of your head, drawing circles on your back. You run an adventurous finger along the muscle of his upper leg, “Have I ever mentioned that I love your thighs? They’re so pretty…” the rumble of his hum drums on your ear, sending shockwaves of arousal through your body.

You raise your head, arms draped over his shoulders.

“I really want to kiss you right now.” He comments, gliding his thumb over your bottom lip. His eyes glaze over, lust, longing, brewing beneath.

You seize his nape, smashing your lips in a heated kiss. Beomgyu moans, nails digging into your skin, leaving crescent moons in their wake, “I need you so bad…” he breathes, hoisting your legs around his hips and pinning you against the icy tiles.

Your back arches, trembling in his hold as electricity pokes under your flesh, harshly picking at the seams of your very being, stripping you of any and all stoicism. “Please…” you keen, grinding your sopping cunt against his cock, angry red, standing proud. His face is nestled in your neck, biting and sucking to his heart’s content.

You cry, the combination of wet bodies and the steam of lukewarm water is enough to drive you to the brink of insanity. “I need it, please…” your hand finds his dick, furiously stroking it as his grip falters, “mff…beg for it, doll.” He rubs your clit with a shit eating grin, “come on, use your words.”

“Please…please I want it so bad pleasepleaseplease!” You fuss, pawing at his back with fervor. “You’re so good to me...fuck…” Beomgyu skims your folds, lining himself with your throbbing entrance.

He’s slow at first, inserting his bulbous head with an exhale, making you take him inch by inch until he’s completely bottomed out. But his patience runs thin. Images of that man’s arm around your waist flood his mind.

Beomgyu seethes, fighting that little voice in his head, begging him to plow into you, to make you scream until the only thing you can remember is his cock filling you up.

But he won’t, because you’re the most fragile, precious thing he’s ever laid hands upon. Your tender skin, your gummy walls squeezing him for all he’s worth, that sensitive spot in your neck that has you seeing stars every time he suckles on it.

He loves it, he loves you. He’d never want to hurt you.

“You can m-move…faster.” He smiles, eyes softening as a single tear escapes your lash line. “feel good, princess?” you’re subdued to a moaning mess, toes curling as he nudges your cervix with his blunt tip. His mellow thumb wipes the salty streak from your cheek, basking in the way your neck is littered in purple love marks.

Beomgyu licks a thick stripe up the valley of your breasts, groaning when they bounce against his cheeks. “You’re doing great baby…” he pants, breath fanning your nipples in ragged puffs, “takin’ me so well - ah…” his balls slap your ass, the faint sting making your pleasure increase tenfold.

“That man can’t have you like this…” He gives you a wry laugh, shuddering at the slick sound of your sobbing cunt everytime he pulls out, “can he?”

“ngh…gah!…”

“What was that, dollface?” His teeth graze your neck, smiling as a vein pulsates under his lips, “No! No he can’t-!” You hiccup, eyes shut tight as more tears threaten to spill, “only you- shit!…only you..!” he nods, “good - hah - girl!” hissing when you claw his bicep, “Beomgyu ‘m s-so close…!”

“Me too, baby…wait for me?” Beomgyu peers into your dazed expression, drool pooling at the corner of your mouth. “Fuck…you look breathtaking.” He heaves, cock twitching as he teeters around the edge.

The tiles scrape your back, so you mewl, tapping his shoulder. “I got you, I got you.” He spins, leaning on the frosty wall as you freely bounce in rhythm with his thrusts. “That better?” — “mff…mhm!” You can’t think, you can’t speak, you can’t function. The only thing you can do is take what he gives you.

Beomgyu’s arm moves to your lower back, holding you in place while his free hand finds yours, intertwining trembling fingers. “Let go, yn. Please, cum with me…” he moans, kissing you, a filthy clash of teeth and tongues. He moves to your shoulder, biting it as his drenched hair clings to your face, thrusts becoming sloppy, and after three more, he releases with a high pitched mewl, letting go of your hand to find purchase in your nape, pressing the side of your face to his.

You convulse, fluttering around him as white-hot pleasure courses through you, prodding every nerve within. “I’m right here, baby. Yeah, that’s it…” Your senses are heightened, taking note of the sizzling slosh of water, punching the floor before growing the puddle at your boyfriend’s feet, the soothing palpitations of his heart, filling you with love and adoration.

his breath brushes your ear, chest moving up and down as pulls you away, peeking at your sleeping form, “what about aftercare?” He pouts, pulling out with a wince.

He airily lays you down on the bed, brows rising when you clasp his wrist, “hold on…” you groggily sit, “I have a favor to ask…”

“Ask away, princess.”

“Can you get some towels? Please?” You pause, eyes twinkling, “and ice-cream?”

“Yeah, okay. I’ll be right back.” He stands from the bed, marching to the bathroom. “And gyu?” Beomgyu stops in his tracks, humming in response.

“I love you.”

He smiles, quickly sprinting to you and pecking your lips, “I love you so much more.”

💌. kinda iffy ab this but whatever my bae serene wants, my bae serene gets.

taglist. @beomiracles @theresawtf @jjklvr9 @binniebakery @beomies-world @hyukaaa @ninoshome1 @babymochibeargyu @lunathewritingcat @duckywuckypookiepie @naoristerling @oddracha @soohashits @junimoa03 @sendhelpiloveyeonjun @beomtasticc @itaehynz

© GARDNHEE, do not copy, modify, or upload on other platforms.

[analogboii]

tumblr.com/analogboii/746259671902535680

What's bishops castle? Please tell me about it!

GJSKDK GOD YES. I WILL ALWAYS TALK ABOUT THE INSANITY THAT'S BISHOP'S CASTLE 🗣️🗣️🗣️

okokok

this is a "castle" that currently resides in Rye, Colorado.

So, Jim Bishop bought some land way back when. He was 15 and saved up 450 bucks from various jobs. His parents used his money to buy it for him (cause he was 15, so he couldn't legally purchase land yet). Originally, he just built a cabin with his dad. But one day, motherfucker just woke up with a "message from God" that told him to build a castle. and he was just like "alright bet" and just started building one. Mind you, this guy has NO IDEA how to build a castle (I mean, who tf does these days) and just starts slapping rocks/slabs and concrete together.

Not only is he doing this, but he's primarily doing this BY HIMSELF. No professional team of contractors or construction workers, no. Its mostly just HIM fueled by "the spirit of god". Sure, different family members helped over time here and there, but it was mostly solo work. People would say they'd help them flake out, but he didn't care. He kept going bc he was fully convinced that this is why god sent him to this plane of existence. To build this castle.

that being said, he OBSESSED over this. this was the reason he got up in the morning. the first thing he thought about when he woke up and the last thing he thought about before going to bed. it consumed his life.

tragedy struck in the 80s when his four year old son died. they had been taking out the trunk of a tree. some of the roots were giving trouble so he sent his FOUR YEAR OLD SON to cut the roots. only for the trunk to end up falling on top of him and squashing him.

you'd think that something like that would fuck you up and you'd stop, right? not Jim. he kept going. later when asked why he had kept going he just "well, what else am I gonna do? he loved the place!"

the website leaves this part out, but you can find articles and interviews about it. the website is VERY tailored to make Jim seem more sane than he is.

after this, a lot of his relationships strained. some family and friends stopped talking to him. some were wary. some tried to get him to stop, but he just kept saying that god was telling him this is what he needed to do. this was his calling.

as it got bigger over the years, people started to come and see it.

some people told him he should charge to see it, but growing up with not a lot of money and not being able to do things bc of that, he was determined to keep it free, but it does have a donation box. between that and the gift shop, they are primarily what keep this place running. they are also a registered non profit charity as well. they donate quite a bit to newborn heart surgeries.

tbh, it's a really insanely impressive the way it looks. it's got a grand ballroom and several other rooms. there isn't running water as it's not a functioning castle and still isn't technically finished, but to say it got this far as a solo man project is insane. it took 40ish years to get to this point.

like this shit even has stained glass

now Jim Bishop is old as shit so he's unable to keep building on it. it's still considered under construction and sometimes he'll hire friends or family to build on it. he spends his days sitting outside of it, ranting about the government.

THIS MAN HATES THE GOVERNMENT BY THE WAY (as he should). like I remember one of the times I went, he was YELLING about shit. people will go to just rile him up cause this man will POP OFF. he also has a lot of anti government signs around his property as well.

also, colorado can frequently have fire bans because it can get incredibly dry in the summers. he's got signs about those too. he's also got your disclaimers and such as well.

oh the signs are all handmade, btw.

there are more signs, but Tumblr is only allowing me so many photos.

during the two years I lived in Colorado, I went eight times. I would've went more if I could've. the over all energy from there is insane. love talking and listening to Jim's insane rants, his grandkids sometimes run the gift shop and they're always nice. this man is absolutely batshit but we got a really cool castle out of it. he also prides himself and calls it "a working class made attraction for the working class" if you're ever in Colorado, especially near Rye, go visit it. the drive up there is beautiful, the place is stunning, and it's a free attraction, so definitely worth it.

tho if you go, be careful. shit gets a little rickety once you hit the third floor. walk carefully and don't even think about running. you can go even higher as there are walk ways and stuff around the outside and to the towers. there are signs when you reach this point that warn you to progress as your own risk (I'd post it if I could stuff more pics in here). I've never reached the very top bc I'm so scared of heights but I want to be able to do it one day. i haven't been in a few years because I moved, but hell yeah I'd go again.

I could talk more about it but this is already insanely long. definitely look into it, it's so worth it. and thank you for asking so I can unleash this verbal vomit 🙏

ALSO YES. THE DRAGON HEAD CAN BREATHE FIRE 🔥🐲🔥🐲

[zhuqued]

@ghostlyanon​ takes the stage! call out for being into anemo  peeps 😏

    “𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐄 ! ”

    Shock! Disbelief! A betrayal most foul! 

    Already Xinyan could feel the hot flush of embarrassment crawl its way up her neck as she gives the lilac girl a look of utter mortification. One minute had been filled with the secret admirations of the heart, the next, all of a sudden her companion donned an unexpected look of utter evil. It gleamed in the Liyue sun, darkening an otherwise bright and beautiful day.

    A friend had become foe. A foe that got a sharp elbow right to her scrawny little ribs. 

    “We’re supposed to be friends! Pals! Y’dont gotta broadcast it to the whole damn world. y’know!”

[jobean12-blog]

Party for Two

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Word Count: 971

Summary: Bucky doesn’t really want to go to the party tonight and he knows just how to convince you of the same. 

Author’s Note: Well, my amazing friend @nix-akimbo​ did it again! She made his amazing edit and wrote a little blurb about crawling in his lap and all the fun that follows and I just couldn’t help myself! THANK YOU MY LOVE! and thank you all so much for reading! Much love always! ❤❤❤ Divider by the lovely @imerdwarf

Warnings: choking, dirty talk, light knife play, cursing, smut (18+ ONLY PLEASE!!!)

The loveliest @nix-akimbo gets full credit for his amazing edit below, thank you beautiful! 💕🔥🙌😍

“Bucky!” you shout from the bedroom. “I need your help.”

You reach behind you, awkwardly trying to grab the zipper of your dress and pull it up. As more time passes you become increasingly frustrated and with no sign of Bucky you stomp out of the room.

“Barnes,” you yell, turning the corner to find him seated on the couch, still in his towel and skin slightly damp.

He looks up. “Hey doll face. Did you call me?”

You walk around the couch and slip the remote from under his hand, turning the TV off and standing between his spread legs.

“I did,” you pout. “But apparently you’re too busy to help me zip my dress.”

His metal hand slides off the back of the couch and smooths over your thigh, stopping just at the hem of your dress.

“I’m sorry baby girl,” he says quietly as his metal fingers graze your skin.

“And you’re not dressed yet. We’re going to be late,” you scold, resting your hands on his shoulders.

“But I can think of so many better things to do than go to the party,” he purrs, taking you by the waist an pulling you into his lap.

Your dress slides higher and Bucky’s hands follow. You look down at the towel tied along his waist and grin.

“I can see that,” you simper, reaching down and undoing the towel with languid movements.

The material falls to the couch and you wrap your fingers around his cock, stroking gently. His hand moves to your back and he unzips your dress, delicately pushing the straps from your shoulders until it bunches around your breasts.

You release him and slide the dress down your body, revealing your lace bra and naked skin beneath.

“You weren’t going to wear anything under this?” Bucky asks as he helps you get the dress all the way off.

With a shrug you answer, “I wasn’t done getting dressed. And I thought you were going to help me.”

His fingers ghost over the swell of your breasts and toy with the lace. “Is this a favorite of yours?” he murmurs, ignoring your question.

“Not necessarily but it is one…”

Faster than you can finish your sentence his hand snakes between the couch cushions and returns with a small knife that he spins deftly between his fingers before slipping it under the lace and cutting it in half. Then in the same moment it’s gone, back from wherever he took it from and you’re left smirking at him.

“You’re hiding them in the couch now?”

“I like to be prepared,” he replies, covering your breasts with his large hands.

He teases your nipples with his thumbs, pulling lightly and pinching before he leans forward and does the same with his mouth. You rock your hips, scraping your nails down his chest then dancing your fingers back up to his hair.

When he pulls away you crash your lips to his, sucking his bottom one between your teeth as his hands smooth down your back and knead the soft flesh of your ass.

“I’m not even inside you yet and you’re soaking my cock. Fuck baby doll.”

You press down in his lap, gliding yourself over him and moaning into his mouth. He rocks you over him again, tracing the column of your neck with his tongue until he reaches your pulse point and sucks hard.

“Bucky,” you whimper, needing more.

“Mmmm, not yet baby girl. I love getting my mouth all over this beautiful skin.

Your hand slides up his metal arm and around the back of his neck so you can pull his lips closer. He trails them over your collarbone and shoulder, sending goosebumps erupting in their wake. Your fingers comb through his hair, tugging gently as he moves to the other side, kissing along your neck until he reaches your earlobe and pulls it between his teeth.  

His hand drifts down between your bodies and closes around his cock. He rubs the tip through your folds before pushing in just an inch. You whine and sink down lower, the stretch making your eyes roll back.

“Fuck,” he growls, grabbing your hips.

You set a slow pace at first, the feel of him this deep enough to make you cum. His mouth wraps around your nipple and you throw your head back, arching into him.

“Come on baby girl, let me see you ride my cock.”

Your breasts bounce as you start to move faster and his metal hand slides up between them and around your neck. His touch is teasing at first, no pressure, just the ghost of his fingertips over your skin.

“Please Bucky,” you whisper, taking his wrist in your hand.

“Are you gonna cum for me baby girl?”

“Yes, you breathe out, gripping his wrist tighter until you feel his metal fingers close around your throat.

He squeezes with just the right amount of pressure and you feel your stomach tighten, that familiar warmth rushing through you as you clench around him.

His hips thrust upward and his hand squeezes harder until you feel him throb and spill inside you. He doesn’t release you at first and looks down, watching his cum drip down your thigh.

“Fuck if that isn’t a beautiful sight,” he whispers.

You slump against his sweat slicked chest, resting your head in the crook of his neck and placing soft kisses along his skin. Your fingers dance over his shoulder and down his chest until you reach the V of his hips and the light trail of hair above.

His cock pulses inside you and you bring your lips to his.

“I guess we’re skipping the party,” you giggle.  

“Fuck the party. I haven’t even fucked you with my fingers or my tongue yet,” he murmurs hungrily.

[royalsunshinehotel]

I am SO PUMPED to send you the request snd I truly hope you love it too and are inspired to go balls to the wall with it, almost literally 😂🔥

Okay so this request is Sonny x Reader. In this scenario Sunaina and Sonny are either on a break or she left him for Dushal or something 🤷🏻‍♀️ I just don’t want cheating involved

Okay so…scenario is reader’s grandma is staying at the Best Exotic Marigold Hotel and reader originally came to visit grandma (she probably doesn’t have much time left) but ended up wanting to stay longer. Reader gets a job at the hotel helping out and Sonny can’t help but notice her…she confesses she’s got a crush on him one day when they’re in the laundry room which leads to some impromptu hot and heavy making out/groping on the washing machines (feel free to write this part in detail) BUT there’s some sort of emergency/urgent interruption and Sonny has to man the front desk…reader sneaks under the desk because she wants fo finish what they started. After all, she didn’t get to see his beautiful cock as they were rudely interrupted��so she decides to give him a BJ under the desk and Sonny absolutely had to keep his shit together and pretend THAT isn’t happening…..

THANK YOU!!! 💖🔥

"First Time For Everything (18+)" (Sonny Kapoor x Reader)

A/N: Thank you for your patience lovely. I've got some David Copperfield smut coming tomorrow too @catcher11

On paper, you loved your Grandma.

She’d been good to you when you were young, giving you wonderful memories. She took care of you when your father evaporated from your life, and she was also responsible for your love of art, and your willingness and bravery when it came to trying new things.

But she also happened to be a tormentor of your mother, your aunt, and an uncle you hadn’t seen since you were six. She was the reason these people had as many issues as they did, and as you got older, you became a target as well.

There were typical rants about how you’d never amount to anything, but this wasn’t new. She was definitely not in her right mind, but you were able to shrug these attacks off knowing you were the one person in the family who would still speak to her.

Yeah, you’re a “good person”. Every interaction with her brings you a headache, but you do it anyway, for the sake of the woman who once drew and illustrated an entire children's book from leftover printer paper. “YN of Hawk Hill”

You had to do it for her.

And yet, when you had lost the family-wide rock paper scissors contest, you found that you’d been recruited to escort your grandma to India. You’re a “good person”, yup. That’s why you got suckered into this.

“You were always my favorite!” she had said, like you hadn’t been bullied into this. You had never been on an airplane before.

There’s a first time for everything.

Like most things though, life dealt you something sweet, as if to pay back for your sacrifice.

Sonny Kapoor, and the Best Exotic Marigold Hotel. You were less concerned about the hotel, and more with him.

He was handsome, obviously, but it was his optimism and his kindness that really made staying with your decrepit grandmother bearable.

You had been there for about a month before you said actual words to him. You wanted to ask him about local food, cool spots to hang out, you know...local stuff. And what came out was, “can I have a job? I feel bad not contributing.”

“Ah Americans, always need to be productive. If you feel up to it, I could use help on the front desk?” He suggested, you couldn’t quite look at him then, but you shook your head for yes.

He was too bright, as if you were literally staring into the sun.

“Cool,” and with that you had a position. If not for yourself, to keep away from your Grandmother before you run out of things to talk about.

And it’s a good job too, you get to know the other staff members, you get paid a living wage, and you get to be near him.

You make eye contact eventually, and it’s good. You might even consider him a friend. It’s good banter, he helps with the ‘menial’ tasks even though he’s the boss.

And it’s a routine, you made it all on your own, but early, you and Sonny get up together, and work on the laundry.

The laundry itself is a bit of a mixed bag, but he helps you and the two of you absent-mindely chatter on about nothing. He’s lovely. Of course he is. His brain was marvelous, and he could string seven different topics together before you even finished thinking of one.

But there was always something bubbling beneath the surface. You weren’t shy the way you were when you’d first checked-in. You can look at his face now, you’d even consider him a friend. The heat you felt under your skin when your hands brushed was a little too intense to be ignored any longer.

So one day, at 4:30am, you ask.

When you’d first gotten to the hotel, he’d worn a ring. And now he didn’t. You’d heard whispers from the staff about a Sunaina, and you were just being friendly!

“You broke up six months ago?” You wheezed the words out as you folded a heated towel, and carefully placed it on the pile the two of you had made.

Sonny worked in an impractical way, handing you each linen out of the dryer one-at-a-time. Maybe he wanted to talk more? He was good at that, after all.

“Yes,” Sonny looked stunning in the blue light, not that you were paying close attention of course,” she left me for her brother’s friend.” You winced, as Sonny stuck his head into the washer, fishing out a stray scrap that had gotten stuck in the back.

“Oh wow. And you haven’t rebounded yet?” You scoffed at him in an attempt to sound confident. You weren’t inexperienced but you’d never truly liked someone this much.

“Rebound?” Sonny questioned, groaning as he got out of the washer. Sonny was raised correctly and went through the world like no one would fall to their knees to get their hands on him. Like you weren’t wanting to grab his shoulders and pull him to you.

“Yes, just getting her out of your system. It could be a date, or a kiss, or...more.” With you, he could do that with you. “But it doesn’t have to mean anything, it’s like a palette cleanser.” You just compared him to a meal because you’re going to eat him alive.

“Like gum?” You can’t help but smile at his suggestion. He spoke in such an earnest way, it drove you insane.

“Yes, you're getting your ex unstuck from your system.” You nod, noting how Sonny stared at the rag in his hand as if it was foreign.

“What would one do to get a rebound?” He asked, making your mouth go dry as his long fingers carefully traced the edges of the fabric.

“I suppose, just….make a move.” With you. If he didn’t put his mouth on you in two seconds...

And your wish came true. Softly, slowly, Sonny leaned down and pressed his lips to yours. Only for a moment, and not an ounce of force behind it. Something about him just felt correct.

But just as quickly as he’d pressed his mouth to yours, he’d backed away.

“Oh.” You said softly, giving a small smile to him.

“Did you not mean yourself?” Sonny’s face contorted to a dramatic expression of horror, “Oh no, this is an abuse of power!” He groaned, “I'm a bad boss!”

In a smooth gesture, you grabbed both of his wrists, choosing to ignore the little sparks working their way up your hands, and you brought him right back.

Sonny started by reaching his hands around your waist and lifting you to sit on the top of the dryer, door having slammed shut of course.

Your dark-haired boss sweetly sucked at your bottom lip, as he gripped your thighs and wrapped you around him.

Sunaina was an idiot, and Sonny was relentless, hands everywhere, trying to get as close as possible as quickly as he could.

Your head was buzzing, and you felt teeth tugging at the spot below your neck. You dug your nails into his shoulders, earning a loud-and slightly startling moan.

You couldn’t help but giggle, you really couldn’t. You raked a hand through his thick hair and pulled him away from your throat as he made a dramatic, disappointed expression.

“Do we have to tell HR?” He joked, half-closing his eyes as you ran your hand up his chest.

“I don’t even have a work visa.” You snipe back, as Sonny, pulls you closer, resting his forehead against yours.

He smiled into your mouth, with a kind of softness that didn’t belong to a guest or some new investor. This was a smile only meant for you.

“Mr KAPOOR!!” A shrill voice cut through the courtyard as Sonny groaned into your mouth.

“No.” You tangled a hand in his hair, sticking out your lower lip into a pout. If you could smother Mrs. McClintock you would. It would be an international incident though.

“Mr. KAPOOR!” The voice cut through again, “I’m WAITING.” It was before sunrise and she just shuffled over to the front desk, ringing the bell like she had somewhere to be.

Sonny takes a moment to kiss your lips sweetly, before he pulls away, leaving you sitting on the washing machine alone.

The cold metal of the washer seemed to dig into your skin, but it provided motivation.

You weren’t going to be pushed around. Not this time. You got bullied into coming to this country, you settled for a random job when all you wanted was a date, and now you’re being blocked from - what you felt was- a great fuck by some 90 year old with a sketchy political history.

He’d been towards his hotels since he was 18, and he’d only ever regretted having to handle guests at this exact moment.

You looked so upset when he pulled away. He should have said something.

Sonny smoothed his shirt down and gave Miriam McClintock the most dazzling smile. Why didn’t he tell you to stay put? Why didn’t he tell you all of the disgusting things he’s been wanting to do with you?

Mrs. McClintock was, for lack of a better term, a bitch. But the white noise she provided did give him an ample amount of time to figure out how he felt about you. Maybe it was as simple as you said- a rebound, a palette cleanser, and that was why his first urge was to pin you against the wall and make you his.

But it was more than that. You’d come here for someone you loved, and the way you put your heart into work that you’d barely even wanted.

It’s not a rebound. It’s more. He had to stare at Mrs. McClintock, and let her feel as if she’s being heard. Nothing she was complaining about was anything he had the ability to change, but he was her host. He could be fucking you until your eyes roll back, but he just had to handle this guest first.

“I just feel as if Nixon…” she started, as if the owner and proprietor of the “best exotic marigold hotels” would have any idea who a US president was.

God, he just wanted to be inside you. He could have been with you at that moment, maybe he’d have you on his lap, and have you ride his hand. Sonny always saw how your eyes dilated whenever he picked something up. God. Sonny was grateful for a moment that his hands were so large. All the better to feel you.

“And young man, your shirts are too…” Mrs. McClintock continued as Sonny felt something against his leg. Taking a half-step back, he lowers his eyes to see you, sitting under the desk, on your knees.

On your knees. Oh god.

The object of his affection, the star of his best dreams, underneath the desk. You were biting your lip, and your shirt was buttoned down lower than when he’d last seen you a few moments (or an eternity) ago.

Your soft eyes pull him in, and when you open your perfect mouth, Sonny sees stars dotting over his vision. It’s just too perfect.

Smoothly, as calmly as he could muster, Sunit Kapoor pulled a chair over to the desk, and sat down.

“Oh there, are we comfortable now?” sniped Mrs. McClintock, bouffant hairstyle suddenly seeming more lopsided. If Mrs. McClintock had been less concerned with the skylight in her room, she might have noticed how quickly Sonny leaned back into his chair.

You were grateful, in a way. She’d be talking for a while. You could take your time.

Sonny grins as his eyes go out of focus. You, slowly, as quietly as you could, unzipped his jeans and took his head into your mouth. You couldn’t let yourself be resentful of the old woman because she robbed you of the opportunity to tell Sonny exactly what you thought of his cock.

It was absolutely beautiful, just like the rest of him.

Your mouth was warm, and soft, just like he hoped, and if this was something you wanted to do, he was supposed to facilitate it. He was a host, after all.

Sonny wished he could look down at your pretty face, and watch as you bobbed your head, but all he could do was speculate.

This was months in the making, tucked under his desk, you decided to have fun.

With thin little kitten licks, you started at the angry head of his stiff cock, your hand in a firm grip, giving him a painfully slow tug. Sonny held in a wheeze above the desk, reaching a hand down to grip your hair.

“And the milk isn’t….” her words trailed right through Sonny’s ears as you licked up a notable vein along the side of his cock.

So what if your grandmother was sleeping across the courtyard, a few feet away? You undid a final button and pushed your shirt back as you lazily played with his cock. If Sonny could have looked down, he would have seen your shirt open, nipples hard in the cold air, and a hand resting between your legs, but he couldn’t. Mrs. McClintock needed her air vents cleaned.

“And I really do think that Laila in room 7 is…” you let out a low choking sound as Sonny was suddenly staring very hard at the white dot on Mrs. McClintock’s nose.

You dug a hand into his leg as you steadily opened your throat and took Sonny’s length. It was as if you’d stolen all the breath from his lungs. The old woman noticed the Kapoor boy looked strange, but she just didn’t care.

Sonny was pretty sure he was going to die. The desk wasn’t good to hold onto, and he didn’t want to grab your hair. If he didn’t get you closer, he’d have to pull you up and take you in front of an elderly guest, and that would be less than ideal.

As if on cue, you took a free hand he’d rested on his leg, and wrapped it around your throat. You stifled a little squeal of joy as he squeezed on you firmly.

“Yes. Mrs. McClintock, it’s so good to see you out of your room, I’ll send the MacDonalds right over.” He wouldn’t. He would have to bend you over this desk. Sonny never did anything halfway and you sure wouldn’t be a stick of gum. You would be a whole meal, and dessert.

Mrs. McClintock huffed and made herself scarce, slamming the door to her room like a child.

He gasped into his palm and you knew, deep in your gut, that he was close. You did that to him.

Sonny’s warm hand squeezed in a pace that matched the rhythm you had set sliding him in and out of your warm wet mouth.

And then the dam broke.

You felt Sonny’s legs shudder as he tightened his grip on your throat. The tears in your eyes started to fall as he came undone in your mouth. The deep satisfaction made you start to work your fingers in between your legs. If he wanted to continue after this, he would have a lot to work with.

Sonny gave you a hungry look down as he took in your sweet face, tear-stained, and smug. He muttered some words to himself that you later found translated to ‘greedy slut’, and it wasn’t as if you could argue.

You got up off your knees, feeling his hand on your head to steer you away from hitting it on the desk. Your neck felt strange without his hand around it.

“I like being in your mouth.” He said, in a stupor.

“I like having you there.” You replied as he kissed you, tasting himself in your mouth.

The rest of the morning is an exquisite haze of hands, mouths, and teeth.

In his twelve years as owner and proprietor of The Best Exotic Marigold Hotels, Sonny Kapoor had never been late for morning roll-call.

There’s a first time for everything.

[zhuqued]

so. what do you think of albedo. do you know him, have you met him. is he good-looking

    "I heard he's real fuckin' short."

[zhuqued]

@kanedoji​ takes the stage! "You know what? You, me and Yoimiya-san make a pretty good team," Itto stated with a grin as the pair had since sprawled in a grassy meadow spangled with wildflowers following a recent stint of mischief-making, the fireworks proprietor long since sojourned home. "Hey, y'know I'm pretty swell at singing, right? You should totally let me join your band! I'd fit right in!" 

    𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃𝐍'𝐓 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐏 𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐄. Of all the things Xinyan had expected to find in her travels through the land of thunder, a solid connection hadn’t been amongst them. Of course she felt nothing but respect towards Kujou Sara and her endless hospitality when Xinyan had found herself in need, but like a crystalfly at night, Xinyan had found herself drawn to the fiery spirits of a too-tall troublemaker and a summer-bound girl. Kindred and kindling, they.  

    “Of course you would -- the ‘band’ is me.”

    Her head tilted back to flash that cheeky grin his way, enjoying the way the seabound breeze brushed against her face. Xinyan was tempted to tell him that there wasn’t even really a need to ask her. Xinyan was no stranger to a stage bombs from the few enthusiastic fans she’d managed to gather back on the stuffy shores of Liyue; one of these days she should regale him with the story of how a certain cool-natured exorcist so strongly resonated with her song that he hopped up on stage and took the frontrunner spot for himself. It had been one of the more interesting sessions of her early career. If her music reached your heart, who was she to stop what you did with it? Her stage was not exclusionary.

    ... But if the man wanted an audition-

    Xinyan sat up rather suddenly, and with her guitar seemingly appearing from the void on her lap (no seriously, where the fuck did it come from), the quick thrum of a few, sharp chords broke the easygoing air the remaining pair had thought to unwind to. 

    -who was she to refuse?

    “Alright then big guy, lemme hear ya! You wanna rock? Show me what’cha got! 

[zhuqued]

@lumnius​ takes the stage! ❛  you don’t have to deal with this on your own.  ❜

↳ Found Family Starters || NOT ACCEPTING

    𝐗𝐈𝐍𝐘𝐀𝐍'𝐒 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐌𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐓𝐈𝐒𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐀 𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐐𝐔𝐄 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒 as they danced across iron-woven strings, plucking experimentally a simple tune as her free hand adjusts the tuning heads at the end of her precious instrument’s neck. It’s a relaxing motion, one that could absorb her no matter whose presence she fell at ease with.

    So it would be understandable if she didn’t raise her eyes to meet Lumine and her offer. This was a very intensive process, after all. But she listened. 

    Part of her wondered what had caused her such concern; if the sidelong glares from Harbor elders or particularly nasty rumors about her corrupting punk influence had caught the Traveller’s ear, which Xinyan herself thought was more embarrassing than hurtful. Something secret in her wished she meant she had insight to this loud presence the musician felt niggling at the back of her mind. Whatever it was, there was something unnervingly earnest in the way the Traveller could stare right through you with her big, bright eyes. Searching, helpful, a star shooting across Teyvat and touching the lives of anyone who caught a glimpse of the light she left behind. It really wasn’t that hard to hear the stories. It was harder for her to think that light wanted to shine on her.

   Xinyan pressed her lips together, and she was certain that the gesture had no doubt made her look agitated, but masked the tremble that tried unbidden to send the mountain-face of her expression crumbling. Whatever the storm, she could weather it. She had this long. 

    “Hey, we all got our burdens to bare.”

    Xinyan had years of experience on how to paint on a smile, whether or not it was reassuring. Not many thought so even when she meant it, but for Lumine’s sake, the burning soul tries to mean it. 

    In a gesture that might be seen as uncharacteristically gentle, long fingers swipe at a nearby, newborn qingxin and stuck it between the petals that already adorned her hair, aglow with the light of her own otherworldly blossoms that more than once had drawn Xinyan’s eye. Her grin becoming crooked, she offered the starbound wanderer a playful wink. 

    “You’ve got enough on your shoulders as it is, hero.”