#(if it is feel free to steal it or any of my other ideas I think so much but hardly ever use em feel free to snatch any of my rambles LOL)

[daisymbin]

14. "oh, so now we’re holding hands?" With Wonwoo pls and female:)))

thank you for requesting! please let me know what you think about it 🥰

request your own: full prompt list!

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fluff prompt #14: "oh, so now we're holding hands?"

wonwoo didn’t know what he did wrong.

one moment, everything was fine. the next, you were cold, sharp replies replacing your usual warmth, and any attempt he made to talk to you was met with an annoyed glare. you weren’t outright ignoring him, but you might as well at this point.

so he did what any reasonable person would do: he followed you around and tried to make you laugh, even if it meant annoying you further. but no matter how much he teased or tried to catch your attention, you stayed firmly in your icy bubble, refusing to give him an inch.

after dinner with the rest of the boys, he thought you’d leave the moment the dishes were cleared. instead, you lingered in the living room, scrolling on your phone while pretending he wasn’t there.

thats when the idea came to him; he quickly pulled his phone out, texting jeonghan.

"let's watch a horror movie, im in the mood for it." jeonghan declared out loud. you didn’t object & wonwoo could only count that as a silent win.

wonwoo should feel bad, he really should, because he knows scary movies weren’t your thing, but he doesnt feel any remorse or guilt. so here you were, sitting stiffly on the couch beside him, your arms crossed, your gaze fixed stubbornly on the screen.

he tried not to smile, he really tried.

“you know, if you’re still mad at me, you can just say so,” he whispered as the opening credits rolled.

you didn’t even spare him a glance. “i’m not mad.”

“right,” he said, dragging out the word. “you’re just giving me the cold shoulder for fun.”

“wonwoo.” your tone was a warning, but it only made him grin wider.

“okay, okay,” he said, holding his hands up in surrender. but as the movie started and the eerie soundtrack filled the room, he couldn’t resist stealing glances at you, waiting for the moment you’d crack.

it didn’t take long.

the first jumpscare made you flinch. by the third, you were gripping the edge of the couch cushion so tightly that your knuckles turned white.

and then came the scene. the one with the flickering lights and the slow, suspenseful build-up that everyone knew would end in something terrible.

you tensed beside him, this is it, wonwoo thinks. your breath hitching as the music swelled. and just as the shadow moved on screen, you let out a startled yelp; one hand moving to grab at his biceps, hiding your face behind it and the other subconsciously intertwines with his fingers, clutching it tightly

he blinked, startled by the yelp you let out even though he expected it, and then, a slow, triumphant smile took over his face.

“oh?” his voice was soft, teasing. “so now we’re holding hands?”

your head snapped up, your eyes wide with realization. “i—i wasn’t—” you stammered, trying to pull your hand away, but his grip tightened, keeping your fingers firmly intertwined with his.

“uh-uh,” he said, his tone light but his hold steady. “you can’t just grab my hand and then let go like that. that’s rude, you know.”

“wonwoo,” you said, your cheeks burning as you tried to tug your hand free again. “let go.”

“no,” he replied, his thumb brushing casually over your knuckles. “besides, you’re still scared, right? so what’s the harm in holding on a little longer?”

“i’m not scared,” you shot back, though the tremble in your voice betrayed you.

“sure,” he said, clearly unconvinced. “totally fearless. that’s why you’re clinging to me like your life depends on it.”

“i am not clinging,” you hissed, glaring at him even as your face grew hotter.

he chuckled, the sound low and warm, and leaned in just slightly. “you’re cute when you’re flustered, you know that?”

“i’m not flustered,” you muttered, looking anywhere but at him. “and i’m still mad at you, by the way.” a small pout makes its way to your face.

“really?” he asked, his voice softening as he tilted his head. “because you’re not acting very mad right now.”

“i am,” you insisted, though your resolve was quickly crumbling under the weight of his teasing gaze and the warmth of his hand in yours.

“mhmm,” he hummed, his smile turning fond as he looked at you. “well, just so you know, i’m not letting go until you’re not mad anymore.”

your eyes darted to your joined hands, your heart racing as you registered the sincerity in his voice beneath the teasing.

“i’m not mad,” you admitted quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

“oh?” he said, his grin widening. “so does that mean you’re holding my hand because you want to now?”

"I'm not holding your hand, you're holding mine!" you argued, your cheeks burning as you tried to pull away one last time.

but wonwoo didn’t budge. instead, he laced his fingers fully with yours, his grip firm but gentle.

“you should know,” he said softly, his teasing edge fading as he looked at you, “if you hold my hand so tight like this, i’m never letting go.”

your breath hitched, and for a moment, all you could do was stare at him, his words settling into the space between you like a promise.

[poyitjdr]

Aight hear me out: Zoro gets cursed fuckin’ Ella Enchanted style and he accidentally discovers that written commands *also* count after Sanji’s “kiss the cook” apron triggers it. Sanji stuffs the apron into a random drawer in Chopper’s office (he can’t seem to bring himself to actually get rid of it and that fact irritates the shit out of Sanji). Anyways, Zoro visits Chopper to discuss the curse from a medical point of view and Chopper pulls out the stupid fuckin’ apron and shows it to Zoro cause wtf is that in his desk drawer??? and BAM second kiss triggered

anyways that’s the exact line of thinking that got me to draw this lmfao

[benetnvsch]

Hey knkdz nation - is there a kunikidazai fanart/comic/fic/text post even maybaps based on when Dazai first joined the ADA and pretended he didn’t know rlly how to remove the safety of a gun where Kunikida’s just like “oh yea- dw I’ll teach u” and it’s normal until Dazai messes up how he’s holding the gun and so Kunikida goes behind Dazai and like,, holds his hands to guide them to correct him and dazai has a oh shit oh fuck wait - lowkey lil flustered moment or did I fucking make this up again </3

Legitimately Cannot remember if I saw something like this and forgot abt it, if I saw something v similar but it was actually for a different fandom, or if this is actually anoriginal thought for once

[thebestandworstdayofjune]

in the refrigerator light

summary: you are somehow unprepared to run into Logan while on the quest for a midnight snack... in the house you both live in. wc: 1.9 k a/n: to be fair I did warn you that this would happen. I have a few more ideas kicking around in my head, but feel free to send requests if you have any! this doesn't take place during any particular movie, fyi, but you and Logan are both teaching at the school warnings: fluffy fluff, mutant!reader, empathic powers!reader, soft!Logan

You should have been asleep. Even after choosing to stay on at the school past your education, you’d had a hard time shaking habits of the past. It still felt strange to walk freely into professor only areas, and you were always in bed by 11:00 pm every night. Sneaking down to the kitchen to steal one of the chocolate bars you knew Scott had stashed deep in the back of a cabinet felt wrong, but the siren song was too strong to resist. 

You’d been quiet, making sure to avoid the creaky stair (third from the bottom on the right) before shuffling into the kitchen. You rubbed at your eyes as you made your way to the proper cabinet. The only problem being that it was much higher up than you remember. It was times like these that made you wish for a more helpful mutation, like telekinesis or at least a few extra inches of height. You struggled for a few moments, on your tippy toes, stretching your arm as far as you could reach before you gave up. You sighed, raking your hands through your hair and making your peace with the fact that chocolate was not in your future tonight. 

“Scoot over, bub.” You jumped and let out a small shriek, before clasping a hand over your mouth. It was rare that anyone got the drop on you these days, your power more finely tuned and emotions tending to be strong around the manor, but your guard was decidedly down in the place you’d called home for so many years. But Logan was an exception to many rules. HIs hand gently gripped your wrist, pulling you against his chest for a brief moment before moving to stand in front of the cabinet. He reached up into the cabinet, the zip up hoodie he wore pulling up to expose a few inches of his stomach before pulling down a few bars of chocolate with ease. He smiled, the crinkles by his eyes more prominent in the low light of the kitchen. You did your best to appear like you hadn’t just been ogling him. 

“How did you know-”

“Scott’s shit at secrets.” He huffed, rolling his eyes. “You think he’d learn by now to not be such a loud mouth in a house full of people with enhanced hearing”. 

Your laugh was quiet, muffled by your hand in the interest of not waking the others. “Well, in that case, I hope one of those is for me.” 

Logan shrugged, eyes full of mirth. “What’ll you give me for it?” 

You blinked, unsure of yourself. You weren’t used to this Logan, yet. He was usually gruff and reserved, always reluctant to give into the kids in his history class that were trying to derail the lesson with a joke or two. He’d been playful a few times in your presence, and it almost always made you worried that the other shoe was about to drop. Seeing him in pajama pants and a soft grey sweatshirt only added to the strangeness situation. 

For the briefest moment, you considered using your powers. A single touch and you would know exactly how he was feeling. It was a blessing and a curse, to be able to be sure of how others were feeling with a single touch. A god-send on intel gathering or stealthy missions, a terrible temptation at midnight alone in the kitchen of the manor with the man you had harbored a crush on for as long as you’d known him. You make to grab one of the bars out of his hand, but he is too fast for you, quickly lifting them over his head. Your eyes narrowed. 

Fine, two can play at this game. You roll your shoulders back, drawing up your courage. “Depends what you want for it.” 

Logan grinned, dropping his arms and holding the bars behind his back. “Well, what I don’t want is to be an accomplice in your quest for cavities. Chuck’d have my head if he found out I had a part to play.”  

“I’m a big girl, Logan. I can take care of myself” You grab for the chocolate, but he’s too quick for you. For a brief moment, the two of you stare at each other, the moment charged. You lunged for the chocolate again, but Logan is already halfway across the kitchen, waving the chocolate around teasingly. 

“Logan, please” you laugh, following around the island. He cocked his head to the side, smirk playing at the corner of his lips. You were seconds away from stomping your foot and demanding he hand the chocolate over, when his smirk grew into a grin. 

“Alright bub,” he made his way around the island, depositing one of the chocolate bars in your hand. “You know I can’t say no to you.” 

You did your best to tamp down the butterflies that suddenly made a home in your stomach, but his smile was so gentle and he looked so soft, it was hard not to feel a little lovestruck. You snapped a piece of the bar off, and held it out to him. You dutifully busied yourself with breaking off a piece for yourself, ignoring the way that his affectionate gaze seemed to never leave you. 

“You’re not usually up this late,” he says, holding his hand out for another piece. You shrug, dropping another section into his hand. 

“Couldn’t sleep.” 

“Welcome to the club.” You knew that Logan had trouble sleeping, he was usually the first one hunched over a cup of coffee in the mornings, steadfastly ignoring inquiries into how he slept. 

“I, um” You hesitated. Usually offers of using your powers didn’t go well. You took a breath, steadying yourself. The worst he could say was no, right? “I could help with that, if you want.” 

Logan reached out, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. You could tell your eyes were the size of saucers, but you couldn’t find words. After a few moments, Logan took a step back, shaking his head slightly. You blinked owlishly, taking a breath to steady yourself. 

“That’s sweet of you, bub. But I wouldn’t want to tucker you out.” It was no secret around the house that although you had a less physical mutation, it still took some of your energy. Sensing emotions was as natural as breathing, but influencing them was newer, and took much more focus. 

You pointedly glanced at the clock over the stove, noting that it was well past any reasonable bedtime, before facing Logan once more. “That actually sounds really nice.” He mumbled something about not wanting to take advantage of you, but the words died in his throat when your hand found his own. You looked up at him through your lashes, hoping that he would be able to see how earnest you were being. “I don’t want to force you, but I want to be asleep more than anything, and I can tell that you are too wound up about something to even begin to fall asleep.” 

His thumb stroked over the back of your hand a few times, before he stepped around you and led you out of the kitchen. You expected him to turn towards the living room, where you’d caught him ‘resting his eyes’ a few times in the middle of the day. Instead, he turned right making sure to skip the creaky stair (third from the bottom on the right) and right up to the door of your room. 

“A bit presumptuous, no?” You asked, before opening the door and walking through. 

Logan rolled his eyes, leaning against your doorframe. “I was there the first time you tried this. Figured it was best that no one has to pick you up off the floor.” 

You felt your face grow hot, remembering the unmitigated disaster that had occurred the first time Charles suggested that this application of your powers was a possibility. Your chin tilted up, doing your best to project confidence. “Well, it’s been a while since then, I’ve gotten better.” 

If the lighting had been better, you would have seen the faintest pink blush coloring his cheeks. “Rogue’s in my room.” You couldn’t help it, your eyebrows shot up near your hairline. “She and Bobby got into a fight, she wanted somewhere she would be left alone.” His hands were twisting in the pockets of his sweatshirt as he ducked his head down low. 

“Is that why you were prowling around the kitchen?” He rolled his eyes, but nodded all the same. “Well, do you wanna stay here tonight?” He looked like he was about to object, but you held your hand up, effectively silencing him. “You’re doing a favor for Rogue, let me do one for you.” 

“Thought you were already doin’ me a favor, sweetheart.” He protested, all while moving towards your bed. 

You perched on the edge of your bed, consciously doing your best to keep your heart rate in check. The students always joked that between Charles and Jean’s mind reading and Logan being able to hear cheaters hearts speeding up, it wasn’t even worth it to try and cheat in class. It hadn’t occurred to you that if he could hear your heart fluttering, he could definitely hear the measured deep breaths you were taking to mitigate the issue. 

You reached for his hand, and he accepted it readily. His palm was shockingly smooth under yours, it must be from his regenerative powers. Your thumb gently ran across his knuckles, still slightly red from the training session he’d had with some of the students earlier in the day. You tugged on his arm slightly, and he lowered himself down onto the bed beside you. “I thought that it’s important to work as a team, sometimes.” 

“You spyin’ on me, bub?” You sheepishly meet his eyes, but find nothing but tenderness waiting for you. “I’ll try to forgive you.” He drops a kiss on your knuckles, before motioning for you to lay down. “I’ll take the floor.” 

You tightened your grip on his hand. If he really wanted to, he could have broken away easily. Instead, he paused, eyebrows raised and waiting for an explanation. “Not much of a favor if your back hurts in the morning from sleeping on the floor” you shrugged. 

“Only if you’re sure-”

“Just get in the damn bed Logan.” He grinned, pulling back the covers and slipping into the bed. You followed shortly after, and slipped your hand back into his. The both of you laid in silence for a few moments, adjusting to your new arrangement. You were nice and toasty warm, able to feel the heat radiating off him under the covers. You were in the middle of working up the courage to actually use your powers, when soft snores began to emanate from the other side of the bed. You chanced a glance towards him only to find his lashes gently fanned out over his cheeks, and his chest rising and falling with his steady breathing. 

After a few moments, you followed him into dreamland. In the morning, you woke up with his arm firmly around your waist, feeling fully rested for one of the first times in your life. Again, you waited for the awkwardness to come, for your face to flush and your stammer to pick back up, but you were left waiting.

feedback is very much appreciated, as I’ve never written for Logan before! let me know what you think <3

next part

[bweirdart]

nearly oc-tober time again - time for some prompts for 2024

F.A.Q

do i have to draw?

not at all! you are free to participate with any medium that suits you... writing, artwork, free bases and templates, simple text posts, in-character-as-your-oc roleplay, whatever! (just no stealing or AI)

do i have to make new content?

nope! re-uploading old stuff that fits the prompts is allowed (and encouraged) ... old art that didn't get the appreciation it needed always deserves a chance to be shared again, it's a fun throwback!

do i have to post every day?

nope! only 10 days are mandatory (the ones in red with a star symbol) and everything else (yellow) is 100% optional! if you're busy or tired, please skip as many as you want

can i start early?

you can prep your posts in advance if you need to ... but please wait until the right day in october to share them!

can i re-upload your prompt list to another site?

i would prefer if you dont - i have accounts on most sites, so just reblog/retweet/share from me!

event tag?

#bweirdOCtober

have fun!

image desc/text version ↓under the cut↓ or on bweird.art/october

prompts:

WEEK 1: OC INTRODUCTIONS

⭐ 1: FAV OC

what makes them your fav?

2: NEW OC

how recently did you make them?

3: OLD OC

how long ago did you make them?

⭐ 4: UNDER-APPRECIATED OC

an oc you feel like you don't talk about enough, or you haven't fleshed out as much as you would like

5: RE-DESIGNED OC

an oc who has changed a lot (what changed about them?) or, if you haven't redesigned an oc: is there anything you might want to change about an existing oc?

WEEK 2: BUILDING BACKSTORY

⭐ 6: PAST

where is your oc from? what did they look like as a child?

7: LIKES

what do they like (and why?)

8: DISLIKES

what don't they like (and why?)

⭐ 9: RELATIONSHIPS

doesn't have to be romantic! can any kind of relationship (frienship, family, rivalry etc)

10: PERSONALITY

what are your oc's main personality traits

11: SYMBOLISM/THEMES

what represents your oc? is there a specific colour you associate them with, or a specific animal?

12: FUTURE

what will your oc look like in the future? do they have any plans or goals?

WEEK 3: FUN + GAMES

⭐13: MEMES

do any memes remind you of your oc? are there memes your oc would find funny? maybe you want to redraw your oc as one?

14: WHO/WHAT INSPIRED YOUR OC

are there existing characters that your oc looks like? was your oc based on yourself? is your oc originally from a specific fandom?

15: MUSIC

share a character playlist, write a songfic, post lyrics that remind you of them, etc

⭐16: EYES CLOSED or NON DOMINANT HAND

draw a picture of your oc with your eyes closed or with your non domminant hand, write or type a paragraph about them without your eyes closed, etc ... have fun, and don't worry about it looking "bad" -it's meant to!!

17: DnD ALIGNMENT CHART

put all your ocs into a DnD alignment chart, or any other similar chart if you prefer

i've compiled a few templates on my site, but you can find more easily if you google "oc alignment chart"

⭐18: SWAP

swap something between your ocs - their role in the story, hairstyles, personalities, fashion taste, species ... whatever you want! how would this difference change them?

19: PALETTE CHALLENGES

draw your ocs with as many of these colour palettes as you want (or just skip if you don't draw/don't like doing these!)

hex codes for the colours:

palette 1 - #3C1E81 #6D1EA2 #B059E8 #FE0876 #FE5284 #FE7C96 #E0CFE3 #FFD5C3

palette 2 - #352823 #673F28 #AB541C #BA8233 #897128 #A68B2F #F7BF6A #DAC3A4

palette 3 - #A42E25 #D7412B #E47C29 #F7A233 #FCC02D #FCE4A6 #486548 #FEFDE8

palette 4 - #2F4769 #39597E #53779C #94D1E7 #AADDE7 #D48DB7 #D498B5 #D2BABA

WEEK 4: COMMUNITY

20-26: A WHOLE WEEK OF SOCIAL STUFF

if you don't have the time/energy to do every day this week, ⭐ day 23 is the only one marked as mandatory! you can skip the rest!

some ideas for what you could do: talk about a friend's oc you like, make gift art/writing of them, collabs, trades, reblog/appreciate ocs in the event tag, make interactions between your ocs and other people's

WEEK 5: HALLOWEEN

⭐27: FEARS

is your oc scared of anything? do they have any phobias? are they startled easily? would any of your ocs try to scare ppl on purpose?

28: MONSTER

what would your oc be if they were a monster (eg: werewolf, vampire, eldritch beast.. whatever) or, do you have an oc who is already a monster?

29: PUMPKIN CARVING

your ocs carving pumpkins, a drawing of a pumpkin carved to look like your oc ... or even carve it in real life!

30: GHOST

this can be literally a ghost, or a concept that haunts your oc! up to you!

⭐ 31: COSTUMES

what are your ocs wearing for halloween?

[honey-tongued-devil]

↞[arcane preference] founding out you were injured in crossfire↠

Since I've created a Bluesky profile and wrote my thesis on Arcane, I'll be posting both old and new drawings there as soon as the time comes. I'm taking advantage of this little space to promote my other social account. honey-tongued.bsky.social Also, I've received both comments and requests, but Tumblr decided I couldn’t post for a week (my internet connection is terrible). I want to let you know that I appreciate them, and I'll get to everything as soon as I can. So, feel free to leave comments, feedback, or requests!

Jayce: 

- This is the worst news he could receive: he's a scholar, he has no idea how to handle these situations, and, most of all, he's forced to confront his pride.  

- Not only was he unable to protect you now, but what if it happens again? Even if he's there, he wouldn't know what to do.  

- What if there's a next time? What if it doesn't turn out as well next time?  

- His self-sabotage leads him to distance himself from you for a few days, not because he doesn't want to be near you while you're hurting, but because he's ashamed of not being able to protect the person he loves.  

- On the bright side, for even just a second, he remembers the original purpose of his research: making the city safe, helping people.  

- But on the negative side, with no one to blame, more than ever, the people of Zaun appear to him as beasts, second-class humans who can't be redeemed in any way.  

- When he finally gathers the courage to see you again, he tries to make amends for everything: for not protecting you, for not being able to, for allowing someone to hurt you, and for not being there during your recovery.  

- He'll literally do anything to be forgiven: every morning you'll find breakfast in bed, if it's cold at night he'll prepare a warmer for your feet, and despite his squeamishness, he'll personally tend to your wounds, even if it makes him feel queasy.

Viktor:

- He tries to help you in every way possible, even ignoring his own pain.  

- He feels sadness, regrets that you went out alone and ended up in such a situation. He can't help but imagine the fear you must have felt, the confusion, and the loneliness when the guards intervened, and you woke up alone in the hospital.  

- He may be a scholar, but first and foremost he's a man with a moral code, and secondly, he's from Zaun: if he has any work, appointments, or lectures, he'll skip them all, maybe muttering a few insults in his thick accent at the most insistent people, and make up for it at night.  

- Plans, ideas, codes, anything – but he won't leave you alone unless you ask him to.  

- He takes care of you meticulously, respecting schedules, bringing you meals in bed, changing your bandages until your skin heals, and you're able to stand on your own again.  

- He doesn't mind helping you – as a chronically ill person who refuses others' help, he's learned to do everything on his own, and he's almost happy that his skills can be useful to someone else.

Ekko:

- Is it something totally normal in the lanes? Yes.  

- Does this stop Ekko from panicking? No.  

- He's the one who finds you and brings you to the others, but he doesn't want, nor can he afford, to be seen panicking. So, he swallows his despair and tries to act as normal as possible while ten other people rush to help you.  

- His face remains expressionless as the most skilled remove debris, clean the wound, stitch your torn flesh, and bandage you, but his foot keeps tapping the floor with force and speed, revealing his anxiety.  

- When the others insist that it's best you stay in the makeshift infirmary, he tries not to protest, but suddenly every moment of the day becomes an excuse to pass by: to bring you stolen sweets from Piltover, to tell you about some expedition, maybe even steal a kiss or fall asleep leaning against your mattress.  

- It's an overwhelming fear, but the fear of losing you makes him unable to think rationally, and all he feels is how much he misses you, even while you're right there with him.

Vander:

- A crossfire from the other side of the river was already a big enough provocation to alert him and prepare to defend the city or, if absolutely necessary, to strike back.  

- But you, as an accidental victim, are a huge problem.  

- He doesn’t have the heart to pull away from you, and when he does, he can’t help but feel frustrated, angry at himself, knowing he hasn’t been able to keep his city under control like he promised—to you, to Piltover, to everyone.  

- He’ll ask for your forgiveness by kissing the scarred skin every day, even if you insist it’s not his fault, and if you remember even one of the faces, he’ll go and handle the problem.  

- Not with violence, unless necessary, but it’s not about personal justice; rather, it’s about protecting the other citizens of the alleys too.  

- Even after you’ve healed, he’ll insist it’s absolutely necessary to carry you everywhere you need to go, claiming a very good doctor told him so.  

- And the memory of the scar will be tiny compared to all the marks Vander has left on you.  

Silco:

- Private justice is absolutely the first option, even though you were an accidental victim.  

- He’ll call all his goons and associates for a meeting while you’re still bedridden, to see if they’ve heard, seen, or been involved in any armed conflict, and if he doesn’t get a face or a name from them, he’ll turn to the brothel, the house of all information,  

- Until he finds who hurt you and makes sure they can’t do it again.  

- Silco isn’t fazed by blood or open wounds, but despite having enough experience to handle it himself, at least on the first day, he’ll take you to Singed to make sure you’re in the best condition.  

- In the following days, he’ll take care of you himself, but he has pride, a façade, and little emotional communication skills, so he won’t openly show how worried he is, relying entirely on the fact that you don’t know about the murder of your assailant and remember nothing of the visit to Singed.  

- But the only reason you heal so well and so quickly is that, even if he doesn’t know how to express it, all the love he feels is poured into the care he gives you.  

Jinx:

- Flashbacks. So many. Too many.  

- At some point, she’ll even convince herself that she’s the one who shot you, leading to a complete breakdown.  

- She punches her head, scratches herself without realizing it, her nose bleeds, and her eyes are bloodshot.  

- It takes her a while to convince herself that she wasn’t the one who shot you, even though the hallucinations overlap images of you with memories of her armed, creating waking nightmares that feel increasingly real.  

- As much as she’d like to ask her father for help, even just to give you a cleaner room, she feels responsible and is too scared that if she stays away from you, you’ll forget her. That’s why she sets up a little space for you and takes care of you herself, though not always painlessly.  

- She’s pulled bullets out of her own body more times than not after missions; what might seem like dangerous, delicate work to someone else is almost routine for her by now.  

- Once she has a suspicion of who might have done it, she’ll make sure they learn their lesson. 

 

Vi:

- Anger.  

- Why were you out alone? Why didn’t you leave as soon as you saw the crowd getting too big? Why were you in that area?  

- But her anger is just panic pouring out like a flood, the fear of not being able to protect the one she loves twists her stomach, making her feel like she might throw up, like she’s dying inside.  

- None of those questions mean she blames you, but she doesn’t know how to feel, what to think, or even what to do.  

- She’ll do everything to help you—bandaging you, cleaning your wounds, staying silent and giving her full attention to make up for not being there when you needed her, even though that’s not true.  

- And when the scar forms, she’ll kiss it every single day, every single night, like a little ritual between the two of you.  

Caitlyn:

- Safety first.  

- She’ll be the one to assess how bad the injury is, and if there are any foreign objects in your body, there’s a good chance she’ll try to handle it herself, even though at first it might seem a bit barbaric.  

- She’ll give you the guest room and call the family doctor to make sure you’re okay, that you don’t need anything else, and she’ll take care of what’s necessary, even teasing you a bit to hide her worry.  

- "A bullet in the leg from being caught in crossfire? Very vintage, I must say."  

- What you won’t know is that she’ll quietly increase security, not in an oppressive way, but just enough to make both you and the other citizens feel safer.  

- Her family won’t get involved directly, but they won’t stop her either. Sometimes Cassandra herself will make sure her daughter finds the tray to bring up to you, though she’ll never be too open about it.  

- The perfect rehabilitation? Long walks in the villa’s garden, so you can stop for some cookies or tea when you get tired.  

Mel:

- Flashbacks, but less personal than Jinx’s.  

- Her mother would call her weak if she knew how it kills her to see someone barely scratched by crossfire, and that realization soon turns into frustration, which then becomes anger.  

- She tries to stay calm, but her voice sounds like she’s scolding you, and then like she’s scolding the servants, or anyone else who crosses her path.  

- Two hours of lecture if you’re lucky—why you shouldn’t go out without a guard, why you shouldn’t put yourself in dangerous situations, why the enforcers are utterly useless and can’t find anyone responsible, even though the fight was so intense.  

- She’ll focus entirely on the bureaucratic side because little Mel was never taught how to deal with strong emotions, and she’s definitely feeling them now but can’t afford that vulnerability, even though she knows you’re safe.  

- She won’t take care of you herself, but she’ll always stay in the room. Not because she doesn’t want to, to be clear, but because she wants you to have the best care possible and prefers to leave it to a top professional rather than her inexperienced hands.  

- In return, she’ll triple the amount of affection and caresses��more to calm herself than you, but you won’t be the one to complain.  

Sevika:

- She needs a moment.  

- She knows she has to report to Silco that there was a firefight, that someone is threatening the people, but part of her just wants to grab those responsible and crush their heads with her bare hands, doing both you and her boss a favor. Yet, another part of her doesn’t want to leave you alone or take you with her.  

- She knows how to handle these things; she’s lost an arm, and Silco’s goons often come back in worse shape, which is why she’ll take care of you herself, in complete silence.  

- She’ll wait until you’re asleep to place a water bottle, a glass, some painkillers, and some bread on the nightstand next to your bed. And when she’s sure you’re fully asleep, she’ll leave a soft kiss on your forehead before putting on her cloak and heading out to the Last Drop.  

- There, she’ll release her anger in a brawl or two, talk to her boss, and search for the reason why she feels so awful at the bottom of her third glass of whiskey.  

[mythvoiced]

@theimpalpable | the GBEP

Another glance at his front. He can't help it. They hadn't exactly signed up as extra aid to keep watch to this area with the idea they'd be getting fashion tips from random strangers he'd almost threatened to apprehend. To stutter a little through their thought process and reactions seems sensible enough.

Also because he's somewhat starting to doubt he's talking to an actual person. Or... a living one, at least. Which opens the door to a completely different set of problems, which he'd truly rather not step through today.

Or tonight, rather.

Or at any point in time, actually.

Calloused hand flattens the front of his clothes until his fingers curl around the hem of the bland shirt he's wearing under his jacket, lifting it up to stare down at it as though the fabric could materialise a visual representation of the colours just described.

They look up.

What an odd fella. Stiff, somewhat, but not really. Stiff in a way gentlemen are in Western shows, controlled like people of the elite, intellectuals, and superior to the smaller ones who don't have fine shoes, nor can they afford them. At the same time, though, he doesn't... seem... particulary arrogant? That small extra weight to self-importance that would have made assessing him easier.

His tone of voice, too, conversational, if, again, a little... stiff.

Though Seok-ju feels that's not quite the right word.

He blinks, tilts their head. "I'm... I'll be honest, I'm not quite sure what 'burgundy' and 'hazelwood' look like," a smile breaks out on their lips, like the sun through hazy, stern clouds. Not quite sheepish. Humorous, almost. "I like my fashion and my style, but... not an expert on the finer details like the actual proper names of colours."

"So," Seok-ju clears their throat, a casual little human error, tick, more than the actual need for it, "when you say replicate... You're a tailor? Or someone from that industry?"

Well, that would explain... wait, that would explain a lot actually. Fine suit, fine demeanour, fine everything. Seok-ju shoves his hands into his back pockets and relaxes with his elbows jutted out, like moments from replicating a mother scolding a silly child.

Although, the naturalism makes him wonder if 'industry' is the right word to apply here.

"Some sort of patrol, yeah," they concede, shifting their weight to rotate the stiffening joints of one of their ankle. Fine manner of speech and apparently very dedicated to his craft, which could both make him terribly innocent or... well... be a very good cover.

"It's nothing too serious, though, you don't have to worry. Nothing dangerous at least," a shrug. A kid missing is always a serious thing, even though too many in the precinct would argue that 19 years don't make a guy a kid, and he's a guy anyway, whatever could possibly happen to him.

Maybe that's why they'd had to volunteer. South Korea and its oh so inclusive laws for missing people. "Say, you wouldn't happen to have seen a young male-presenting adult most likely wearing a Doosan Bears baseball shirt, beige school uniform trousers, white running shoes and a sports bag?" A tilt of his head to the side again and tragically for himself, the face he makes is doubtful enough that he can't help recognise that some of his fellow officer's thoughts might have begun slipping into their head. "About this height," lifts his hand to hover, flattened palm facing the ground, an arm width over his head. "Potentially in distress, appearing lost, or unapproachable. Maybe in the company of someone else?"

[davdcorenswet]

🌪️ whirlwind.

scott miller x reader Synopsis: the bar has always been a safe haven after a long week of storm-chasing, but when tyler owens decides you’re his lucky charm for the night, you find that scott’s control has its limits. Word Count: 6.4k (pls don't look at me) Warnings: SMUT 18+ MINORS DNI!!!, mentions of near-death experiences, tornadoes (obviously), brief insinuations to cheating, tyler is a pot-stirrer, public sex, dry humping, fingering (f!receiving), degradation, nipple play (f!receiving), orgasm delay, biting?, scott miller has a whore mouth, minor choking, use of pet names (baby, sweetheart), lots of dirty talk, no use of y/n A/N: my first time posting fic & writing for scott so pls go easy on me 🥺 sometimes you just have to let a smug little asshole take over ur entire life, am i right? if you enjoyed, pls feel free to reblog or give it a like and as always, my inbox is open if you want to chat!!! 🤍

It’s been a grueling week, one tornado after another hammering Oklahoma into a state of disarray.

You’re still shaken from the last one, the anxiety of being alone in a motel with your thoughts almost unbearable. You’ve tried to avoid being alone since then, afraid that something worse is always on the horizon, and the thought of being isolated in a room while the rest of the team is out doesn’t sit well.

The bar, though, is a familiar sanctuary. A small comfort amidst the chaos. Even though you’re drained and the idea of socializing feels monumental, tradition is tradition. Javi’s sad puppy eyes and the inevitable guilt trip on the drive back to HQ tomorrow is enough to push you out of bed and into the shower.

And, as much as you don’t want to go, it feels wrong when even Scott makes an effort to go.

By the time you step into the dimly lit bar, clinking glasses and the hum of chatter soothe your worries quickly away. Whirlwind may have seen more than its fair share of fights and other throes of debauchery, but it was a frequent, favorite stop.

And it’s already packed. Between the locals and the other storm-chasers crowding the space, you can’t find Storm Par anywhere. A roar of laughter strikes from the pool tables, and you quickly pocket your phone, realizing you’ll have no luck calling or texting when it won’t even be heard over the noise.

Oh, well. You’ll find them soon enough. Making your way to the bar to greet Jack, the burly bartender who’s been running the place for years and has grown more familiar to you the more you frequent, you hear — rather than see — one of the storm-chasers you were hoping to avoid tonight.

Tyler. God damn. Owens.

You weren’t struck by his Southern charm — your days of easy flattery were past you — but he was hard to ignore. Then again, you should’ve known better by now. Tyler always seemed to be at his best when he had a crowd buzzing around him.

“I thought tonight couldn’t get any better, and then you walked in,” he drawls, finding a space alongside you as he sets his empty beer bottle down, his voice smooth. “Can I buy you a drink, darlin’?”

You consider turning him down, not sure if you’re up for his ego tonight, but you also know Tyler. He wasn't swayed easily, especially if he saw a challenge. Besides, a free drink was well, free, and as grating as he could get, you supposed one couldn't hurt. So you nod. “Sure, why not.”

Jack, who’d wordlessly gotten your drink as Tyler approached, sets a bottle of your favorite down in front of you, his brow raising to get your attention. You hesitate before taking it and catch his gaze shift slightly past you.

Before you get a chance to follow, Tyler steals your focus with a grin, the ever-present pain in your ass. You can’t fight your instincts to be polite. “So tell me. What’s a girl like you doin’ in a place like this?”

You meet his gaze, all swirling hues and open attraction. Maybe if you were that kind of girl, his smooth, clichéd lines would work on you. But you weren’t that girl. You preferred sensible. Practical. Safe. It was why you’d joined Storm Par in the first place, rather than one of the many other crews. This tornado wrangler just wasn’t for you.

Unfortunately for Tyler, he always seemed to miss that memo.

“Same as everyone else, I guess.” You laugh half-heartedly. Maybe if the conversation is light enough, you can slip away without it turning into a spectacle. “Just looking to unwind.”

If Tyler notices your lack of enthusiasm, he doesn’t show it. Instead, he makes a show of settling into his spot next to you, grin stretching wide. The beer in his hands is fresh and cold, same as yours, though unlike yourself he’s already taken a few drinks while you start to pick at the label. Javi would've poked fun by now, but your friend is nowhere near. Typical.

Tyler takes another drink, resting his arm on the bar, your eyes drifting to his tanned bicep. His grin stretches when he catches you looking, and you try not to scowl at falling for his display.

He continues with a well-used, “Well, you sure do brighten up the place.”

Thank god. Playing along, you don’t waste a second as your gaze wanders eagerly around the bar. From your new position you spot a cluster of tables on the other side of the room, Storm Par filling out the seats.

Scott sits alone at one of them, as he always did, but his posture is rigid, and even from a distance you can tell his focus is far from the game of darts Javi tries to include him in. Unsurprising. But rather than being distracted by his phone, worrying about the next job the team would have to take, his eyes are locked in on you.

The intensity makes you shiver. A few bottles sit empty next to him, and you only know they’re his by the unmistakable Guinness label adorning the side. A half-empty glass rests in his hand like he’d meant to take a sip before catching sight of Tyler.

Since joining Storm Par, the number of things you knew about Scott could be counted on your fingers. And in that time, you’d never seen him unwind. Not truly, anyway. As frustrating as it could be, you'd come to respect Scott's unwavering demeanor.

Amidst the chaos, no matter how intense it got, Scott was the stoic anchor of the team. There was a reason for his lectures and regulations. He was as dependable as the code he lived by, but most of the team often dismissed it as rigid and unnecessary. You knew it took strength and reliability to remain true to your values.

Much like you were forgoing now, your polite smile tight on your lips.

Beyond Javi, the rest of the team is scattered around Whirlwind, some dancing with reckless abandon on the makeshift dance floor while others clink shots over a job well done with the other storm-chasing crews. Scott is still firmly planted on the barstool, setting his glass down with a white-knuckled grip.

Tyler, of course, pays no attention. He leans in, casually inching closer to you, wrapping up some story of an exaggerated Wrangler exploit. Close enough to brush against you. When you glance down at the contact, Tyler notices where you’ve grown distracted, that easygoing grin slipping as he takes in your view.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Tyler says with a sigh, head shaking in disbelief. “Just admit it — I’m a hell of a lot more fun than Storm Cloud over there.”

You disagree, but keep it to yourself. Tyler and his crew were reckless, and, sure, while there was some level of risk that came with what you all did, there was a clear difference between you and them. 

It was part of what had drawn you to Scott in the first place. He was meticulous and no-nonsense, quick to call out mistakes whether you were out in the field or back in the office. But even Scott wasn't immune to a lecture or two — something he'd gone to great lengths to keep under lock and key.

And you only knew by accident.

Another sleepless night had driven you out of your room in search of coffee, leading you to a diner where you’d stumbled across him and Riggs in a heated discussion. Your Mama had taught you manners about eavesdropping, but you were frozen in place, listening to Riggs furiously drill into Scott over another fuck up (not his fault) and whether he was serious or not about the work they were doing. Before you could slip away unnoticed, not wanting to be lectured too, Scott’s eyes met yours, giving you a small, subtle shake of his head.

You’d run straight back to your room after, hoping that maybe it'd been a weird nightmare and you’d wake up to business as usual. But after another hour of tossing and turning, Scott’s familiar knock sounded at your door, and when you’d gathered the courage to meet him face to face, he’d looked just as conflicted as you felt. After what you’d heard, the way Scott took responsibility for every mistake and didn't throw anyone under the bus, keeping it between you two was the least you could do.

Something changed after that night. When a particularly nasty tornado touched ground a few weeks later and nearly swept you up in it, nobody questioned Scott’s decision to reassign you to Scarecrow. Nobody questioned why your partner had quit shortly after, either.

Scott still hadn’t asked why you’d been awake that night, just the same as you didn’t ask about Riggs.

You glance over at Scott again now, the memory fresh in your mind. His knuckles are just as white as when you’d found him in the diner, expression still shadowed, like he’s torn between intervening and letting it play out. But even with a crowd between you and the two men, the tension is thick, crackling in the air.

Tyler leans in closer, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper as glances over at Scott. “He’s got that brooding thing down to an art, doesn’t he? Don’t you ever crave a little spontaneity?”

You shift away from Tyler, the weight of Scott’s gaze growing heavy. From the corner of your eye you can just barely make out the hard set to his jaw, no longer working the cinnamon gum he obsessively kept on him. You manage a tight smile, distracted, as Javi’s voice rises briefly above the noise — your attention divided between the brewing storm on the other end of the bar and the eye of the one you were currently stuck in.

“I… I think we all have our reasons for sticking around.” You say, just as Javi finally notices you, his smile dimming as his gaze slides to Tyler.

Shit.

“Oh, I’m sure you do.” Tyler’s drawl is playful, almost teasing, and if he sees that you’re not even looking at him anymore, he doesn’t seem to care. “I’m just saying. If you ever want to get away from Clipboard over there...”

This time you do look with a flash of agitation. “If I wanted that, I’d be part of your team, Tyler. Not his.”

“Now, hold on, just hear me out for a second.” Tyler takes another pull from his drink, but when he sets it back down, he’s too close yet again. Fingers brush unwarranted against you, his touch lingering in a way that immediately makes your skin crawl. “How about we make a deal? Let me show you a good time tonight, and I promise you won’t even remember his name by the end of it.”

The suggestion hangs heavy in the air. You're only just barely aware of the way your features shift as background noise fades and you’re left with a high-pitched ringing in your ears, each emotion rolling through you longer to process than the last. By the time disgust sets in, flinching away from his wandering hands, you see past the red just enough to catch his grin widening in amusement.

And you realize, with terrifying clarity, that he’s been toying with you the whole night, just to start something with your team. You try not to tremble, swallowing your rage, and remind yourself that you'll be kicked out if dump your drink on him.

A stool scrapes loudly from the other side of the room. Whatever semblance of peace snaps.

“Uh oh.” Tyler notices Scott’s approach, and has the audacity to flash you a smile. “Looks like we’ve got company. He sure knows how to kill a mood, doesn’t he?”

You don't have a chance to respond, Scott stopping beside you, barely restrained anger coming off him in waves. You instinctively step closer to him, your drink forgotten and unwanted on the bar. His eyes flash with anger as he regards Tyler, that muscle working overtime in his jaw — and you know he's seen everything, from Tyler whispering into your ear to the look of repulse that you'd tried to hide.

“We need to talk.” Scott’s gaze shifts to you. You recognize the silent message he sends, the urgency in his voice as he fights to control his composure for your sake. “Now.”

“Ouch, Scotty. Not even a hello? And here I thought manners came with that fancy degree.” Tyler whistles low, appraising Scott like he’s not seconds away from getting his nose broken. “I was just getting acquainted with your friend over here. Giving her the whole Wrangler pitch. You know how it goes.” His smirk growing, he takes your silence as a cue to continue. “Come to think of it, wasn’t that how Gabby left? Told me she was over all the huffin' and puffin', especially after—”

“Enough.” Scott's interjection is loud and clear, your heart stuttering at the icy tone. When he slides an arm around your waist, the weight unfamiliar, you can’t tell if it’s to keep you from lunging at Tyler, or himself. You glance between Tyler's satisfied grin and the glare Scott sends him, confused. Who was Gabby? “Shut the fuck up for once, Owens. Seriously. Do us all a fucking favor.”

You still swim with questions as Scott pulls you close, no longer waiting for Tyler’s approval or response — not that he needed it in the first place. Lights cast long shadows as he navigates you between tables, the ringing in your ears lessening the further away from Tyler you get. Scott ushers you out the nearest exit, his palm warm against the small of your back.

The back door slams shut with a final click as you spill out into the alley together. It’s as dimly lit as the inside is, a singular dying bulb flickering just a few steps away. The sounds of the bar are muffled here now that your hearing has returned to normal, leaving only the distant hum of traffic and your ragged breathing.

The chilled air immediately hits you as Scott pulls away, and you watch, lost, as he paces angrily while you try to sort your thoughts out.

“What the hell was that? I thought you said you weren’t coming tonight.” Scott’s voice is sharp, cutting through the night like a knife. He turns to face you with an intensity that makes your pulse quicken, his scowl reflecting the look he gets when he's about to unleash on someone. “You said you needed space, time to clear your head… So why are you here? With him?”

“I know. Plans change,” you reply, caught off-guard, hoping to sound casual even as you hook your finger nervously under the strap of your dress. You’ve never seen Scott this worked up before, and it’s unsettling.

“Plans change?” Scott scoffs, his voice rising with every word. “That’s your excuse? You say one thing, and then do the complete opposite? What was your plan, then? To drink with Tyler and maybe let him drive you home? Was that the idea?”

You’re taken aback by the sharpness of his words. “It was just a drink, Scott. I needed to get out and clear my head.”

“Just a drink?” Scott’s eyes narrow, and he takes a step closer, his frustration barely contained. “Do you really think I’m that naive? Tyler doesn’t just do ‘just a drink.’ He’s always looking for something more. And you—” He cuts himself off, shaking his head as if trying to clear his thoughts. “He makes a mess of everything he touches. You know what he’s like. Hell, you’re smart enough to see through his bullshit. So why are you letting him get close to you?”

“Scott, it’s not like that,” you protest, your voice wavering slightly under his scrutiny. “I needed to get out. It had nothing to do with him.”

“And you couldn’t find another way to clear your head? Without him? Without the guy who’s known for causing chaos?” His voice is thick with emotion, the carefully controlled mask he usually wears slipping away to reveal the raw frustration and fear beneath. “You think I don’t see what’s happening here? I’ve been through this before, and I’m not going to stand by and watch you make the same mistakes.”

“What are you implying?” You ask, confused and angry.

“I’m saying I think you’re using Tyler as a distraction,” Scott says, his voice sharp, “A way to escape from everything you’ve been dealing with.”

Frustration prickles at his words, and even though you try not to, it’s hard to keep the edge from your voice. “Escape? That’s not— I’m not running away from anything.”

“We’ve had a rough week. I know it’s been hard on you,” Scott says, his tone softening slightly, though he still looks on edge. His jaw ticks again, and your gaze immediately darts to the pack of gum you know he keeps in his right back pocket. “But if you’re letting someone like Tyler pull you away from what really matters, it’ll only make things worse. I’ve seen too many people get hurt by him.”

Your anger flares at his scolding, hating that you found yourself in one storm, only to be led willingly into the next. “And what, Scott? You think you know me so well that you can just decide what’s best for me?”

“No, I’m just—” Scott shakes his head, taking a step toward you, then rethinking it. “I’m trying to keep you safe.”

“Safe?” You try to suppress a laugh, but it comes out bitter. “Safe doesn’t really exist in our line of work, and you know that.”

Scott’s eyes flash with a mix of frustration and something else you can’t quite place. He takes a deep breath, struggling to steady himself. “You think I don’t know that? When things go wrong, I need to know that I can count on the people around me to handle their shit.”

You raise an eyebrow, uncertain where this is going. “And what exactly does that have to do with Tyler or me?”

“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” he asks, his tone almost pleading. “When you’re involved, everything gets complicated. I can’t think straight when you’re involved. I can’t focus. Hell, I can’t even sleep at night.”

Scott runs a hand through his hair, his fingers gripping tightly as if trying to ground himself. “That tornado— When the equipment malfunctioned because Dale failed to follow the calibration protocols I specifically fucking outlined— I was frozen, just paralyzed with fear. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t move. I knew we couldn’t make it to you in time.”

You still, remembering how quickly Scott had cornered Dale when you got back. You’d thought it was because of the readings and the instructions he’d ignored that had nearly cost you both your lives.

Scott’s breath hitches as he continues. “It would’ve been my fault. My responsibility. My orders. I was convinced I’d lost you. And I thought if I could just keep you safe, try to control the chaos, that it might make things better. But seeing you with Tyler tonight... It’s like I’m back in that moment, feeling helpless, and I—” He cuts himself off with a shake of his head. “Look, I’m not going through that again. I can’t.”

His voice cracks, and you see the depth of his internal struggle. “I’m just… trying to protect you,” he admits quietly, “but I don’t know if you even see it that way.”

His words weigh heavy, the shock of it ripping right through you. Scott Miller didn't go out of his way to be kind.

You're pulled back through the last few months: the coffee, just the way you liked it, that Scott always had waiting for you after a chase; his lack of scorn when you fell asleep on him in the van the next morning, when exhaustion wins and his silence becomes safety; the lingering, unasked question on his lips every time you were tasked to go out onto the field again and you agreed, over and over, despite the very real fear of the very thing you chased.

For a moment, everything else fades away — Tyler, the bar, the noise.

“Scott.” Your voice breaks through the quiet in a whisper, drawing close to him. Your hands glide gently along the black fabric of his shirt, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your palms. “I’m here,” you say, your voice steady but soft. “I’m with you.”

For a moment, that vulnerability continues to swim in his eyes. And then he steps closer, his fingers wrapping around your wrists. You think, for a split second of panic, that he means to push you away and close himself off the way he usually does; instead, his thumbs rub tenderly at your palms, the action so gentle and unlike him that it makes your breath stall.

Instinctively your gaze meets his, forgetting (as you often did) just how big he actually was. Tall, broad, and deliciously toned; when you thought of Scott, you thought of him behind a desk, not running laps around his neighborhood and clocking in hours at the gym. Your uniforms did an amazing job of hiding his physique, but it’s impossible to ignore now. His black undershirt clings to him like a second skin and reveals the hard, taut muscles of his body, further evidence of the control he wielded so effortlessly.

His eyes search yours, the intoxicating scent of his cologne enveloping you. You’ve never seen him so open before, and as his hands smooth down your arms to the curve of your waist, there’s a sense of urgency in his touch that he doesn’t vocalize.

Fear. Longing. Desire. His jaw sets again as his gaze drops to your mouth, and you think, for one terrifying moment, that he won’t do it. Would he regain his composure, push you away, then act like nothing had happened the next morning? His brows furrow, as if reading your thoughts. Maybe you’d be reassigned just to avoid the awkwardness of it all. Scott could send you packing with just a phone call.

Your heart pounds, frozen in place, each second lasting an eternity. His fingers flex on your waist, the electrifying touch causing your lips to part and your lashes to flutter. The sight makes his throat bob.

“God damn it,” he groans, his voice guttural.

It’s the only warning you get before his mouth descends onto yours. Though his lips are smooth, there’s nothing gentle about the way Scott kisses you. His mouth moves hungrily against yours, devouring and demanding and all-consuming, like you’re the very air he needs to breathe. You sigh, aching for more, that dull fire inside you growing hotter at the groan that escapes him. As he fists a hand in your hair, he wraps a strong arm around your middle to pull you closer, deepening the kiss.

“Scott…” Bunching his shirt in your hands, you’re helpless when he nips at your bottom lip, pulling desperate, needy sounds from you. As he trails hot open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, finding every spot with ease, his fingers wrap gently around your throat, your pulse racing against his thumb.

“God, I’ve wanted you like this for months,” Scott murmurs against your skin, his voice a low growl that makes your thighs clench. A soft moan escapes as you tilt your head to give him better access, his noise of approval rumbling deep in his throat. “I’ve dreamt of this.”

He presses you into the wall behind you as he ravages your neck, all teeth and tongue and the kind of marks that you’ll have to find excuses for in the morning. A shiver sends you arching up into him, fingers slipping into his hair as he palms your breast, lowering his mouth to suck a greedy mark there. You whine at the friction you’re missing, hips circling the air, desperately hooking your fingers into his belt loops to drag him closer.

“Shhh,” Scott pauses to hitch your leg up, slotting his knee between your thighs. Dark blue eyes drink in the sight of you as he squeezes your ass, a cocky smile spreading on his pink and swollen lips. “I know, sweetheart. That’s what you want, isn’t it?” You mewl when his knee brushes against your heat, enough to have you rolling helplessly against him but not enough to satisfy your desires. “So pretty, so desperate.”

“Yes,” You grip him harder for some semblance of a tether, that condescending, degrading voice only adding fuel to the fire. Did he know what you fantasized about late at night? The shower running to muffle your moans while you touched yourself to his deep voice, lecturing you over a simple mistake? Open desire swirls in your eyes, pleading now, every want laid bare for him. “Please, I want it.”

Scott’s low noise of approval sounds in his throat, pressing closer to give you what you need. You’d be half-ashamed at the way you eagerly grind against him if his own arousal wasn’t hard against your hip, straining, large and throbbing with every roll of your hips. The material of your panties do nothing to stop the delicious ache of his worn jeans against your clit, too many pieces of fabric between you, trying to quiet pretty sounds as you bite your lip.

“Look at you,” Scott growls, your dress inching higher as he seizes your hips, helping you find a rhythm. Hooking the lace of your panties under his fingers, he tugs the material up tight enough together to elicit a hiss, a dimple playing at the corner of his mouth as he smirks, “Is this all for me, baby?”

Barely managing a nod, you meet his eyes through thick lashes and whimper at the expression on his face. That intense gaze drinks in every inch of you like you’re a piece of art and the last thing he wants to remember, his usually stormy eyes hazy with desire.

“God damn... You just can’t get enough, can you, baby? When you touch yourself at night, do you think about me? Rubbing that needy little pussy on your pillow ‘cause you just can’t help it?” You press harder into him in response, his answering laugh dark against your ear. “But it’s never enough, is it? You always crave more, something thicker, something stronger.”

You whine against the loss of contact as he drops his knee, the sting of your panties snapping against your skin quickly forgotten when he trails his digits along the swell of your mouth. You open up greedily, the salty taste of his skin on your tongue intoxicating as you wrap your lips around him. 

“I bet you look so pretty,” he continues, his voice ragged, “Spread out like a top dollar whore with your cunt in the air, gagging on your fingers and wishing it were me. Wondering how many you need to suck on to fill you up just right. How many do you think, baby? Two? More?”

Scott pulls his fingers out with a pop, nuzzling against you as you try to remember to breathe. “Would you even be able to use that brain of yours, baby? Or would you be so fucking desperate to fill your hole that you’d use however many fit?”

He hikes up your dress while he pushes his hand in your panties, fingers slipping through your soaked folds. Fuck. He slowly circles your clit, stealing the breath from your lungs as you arch up into him. “Oh, I know, sweetheart. It doesn’t feel like this, does it?”

Not even close. Worst of all, you weren’t even sure if Scott knew just how true it was. Other men may have excited you, but nothing compared to this — not you, not the others you took to your bed, not even the fantasy Scott you envisioned. You buck helplessly against him, eager for more, whimpering out some sort of half-reply as you grip his wrist in a pathetic effort to keep him there.

Scott just grins. “What’s wrong, baby? Am I going too slow for you?” When he softens his touch, your nails dig into his skin, leaving little crescent moon marks. Lips desperately search for his, your eyes half-lidded and hazy. “I knew you’d be greedy,” he hums, gripping you roughly by the chin, his thumb swiping over your parted lips. “Letting me play with your pussy like this, where anyone could walk out and see how much of a slut you’re being.”

You bite back a moan as you remember where you are, glancing frantically at the door like it might open any second. Your pulse skyrockets when he resumes teasing, circling your clit then dipping down to press at your entrance. Fingers close around the fabric of his shirt, meaning to push him away and only pulling him closer with another desperate whine. “Scott, please…”

“Fuck.” There’s a dark look that flashes across his face, voice rough and ragged, and you watch, with nothing to shield his gaze, as his control snaps.

Sliding his hand over your mouth, it’s the only warning you get before he sinks a thick digit into your weeping cunt. The growl that escapes him when you automatically clench around it only makes you wetter, paralyzed with lust as he works you into pliancy. You pant, chest heaving, as he finds a steady rhythm that makes your eyes roll to the back of your head, every moan muffled against the palm of his hand as you arch into his touch.

You cry out when he adds a second finger, rocking your hips desperately as he angles his hand just right to rub against your clit. “Harder— Please, more—” The words are strangled, spilling out of you mindlessly now, unable to think beyond the way Scott stretches you out. You grab a fistful of his hair as he groans against your neck, dragging teeth and tongue along your skin, freeing your breasts from your dress before covering your mouth again.

“So god damned sexy,” he growls, quick to lap at your hardened nipples, the flat of his tongue spilling another pretty sound from your throat. He curls his digits deeper inside you, the wet schlick of your heat loud in your ears as he sets a brutal pace, switching his attention to your other neglected nipple.

Breath hot against your skin, Scott relishes how you become putty in his hands, holding onto him for support as he strokes that burning fire in you.

“Perfect fucking tits. Perfect fucking pussy. Jesus, sweetheart,” he nips at your skin, soothing the bite with his tongue. “Is this what you like? Being used like my own personal fucktoy? What would the others think if they saw you right now, fucking yourself stupid on me like a bitch in heat?”

He slips his fingers out long enough for you to beg, his smile dark against your skin while you whimper in desperation — and then he’s pushing back into you, stretching your hole with every rough thrust of his fingers. “Hear that, sweetheart? Even your body knows it’s meant to be mine.”

Scott kisses you hungrily as he drops his free hand to your breast, pinching your nipple hard enough to make you scream. His fingers slick harder into you, his cock thick and grinding into your hip while you try to breathe against his storm, your own control slipping as you fist his dark curls in your hands, looking for leverage.

“That’s it,” he growls, teeth sinking into your bottom lip. “This is my fucking pussy, isn’t it, baby? You wanna cum for me? Let the whole bar know you’re my toy to play with?”

“Please, please, please—” You can’t think beyond the brutal pace he’s set, not even sure that your voice sounds human as you babble, eyes big and watering. “Wanna cum for you, please, I need it—”

“You need it?” You gasp as the pain on your nipple subsides only for him to pinch the other, something dark and destructive swirling heavy in his blue eyes. You shiver at the expression, the carnal desire written so clearly over his face, every word out of his mouth deep, commanding, leaving no room for debate. “I’ll tell you when you get to cum. This is mine.” Pressing the heel of his palm hard against your clit, he watches with glee as you clamp down on your bottom lip to keep from screaming, obeying his command even as your body fights.

Your knees nearly buckle at the growl in his voice. Every thrust of his fingers brings you closer to the edge, the heat overwhelming. How many nights had you spent with your fingers in your cunt, picturing scenario after scenario of him taking you in the van, in the bathroom, on his desk after hours? 

“Say it,” Scott insists. “Tell me you’re mine.”

You meet his gaze, the intensity of it nearly sending you over the edge. “I’m yours,” you say, caught between a moan and something stronger, your words choking off.

“Again.” His expression tightens, picking up speed. “Louder.”

“I’m yours!” Your body trembles with the effort to stay upright, writhing against him. The words feel like a vow, your grip on Scott tight as you sob them into him. “My pussy is yours, my body is yours— Just a pathetic, dirty, worthless hole for you to fuck— Fuck, Scott, please—”

Scott growls in response, fisting his hand in your hair as finds the spongey spot inside of you. His digits work you hard, the veins in his arms on display as you bite back a scream, waiting, begging, needing. “Cum,” he grunts, the sound of his fingers driving into you loud and damning, “That’s it, sweetheart. Cum for me.”

You fall over the edge hard and fast, crying out as all the tension from the night finally snaps. It feels like an eternity as he continues fucking you through it, every filthy promise spelled out clearly with his lips at your ear.

By the time you come crashing back down, you’re shaking and empty, blinking back stars as Scott steps back. “Oh my god,” you gasp, fighting to catch your breath, mind still a mess as you try to piece together everything that happened. “That was…”

You watch, mesmerized, as Scott sucks his fingers into his mouth, a groan of approval sounding deep in his throat. And when he squeezes at his bulge straining against his zipper, your core clenches tight at the thought of his weight on top of yours, fucking you into submission again and again until he gets his fill.

“Just the beginning,” Scott promises, stepping toward you to tilt your chin up, his free hand coming down to tighten around your soaked panties and pull. They rip easily in his strong grasp, his grin triumphant as he stuffs them into his back pocket. “You won’t be needing these anymore.”

“Why?” Your body tenses with anticipation, noting the defined dimple in his cheek, the kind of grin he only wore when he was about to be incredibly, infuriatingly smug.

“Because,” he hums, full of condescension, “I didn’t hear a thank you.”

Before you can fix your mistake, Scott silences you with a kiss, his mouth patronizingly gentle as a wicked laugh sounds in the back of his throat. “Don’t worry,” he says, dropping another chaste kiss to your mouth, your nose, the space between your creased brows. “It won’t happen again. I’ll teach you, sweetheart.”

Goosebumps rise on your flesh as Scott adjusts your dress to cover your exposed body, the act so gentle and unbecoming that you freeze enough to let him. The moment only lasts a minute, your eyes meeting as he squeezes the curve of your ass when he’s done, all that vulnerability you had seen locked away again, like he’s guarding himself as reality comes back to life.

A muscle feathers in his jaw as his gaze shifts from you to the back door you’d spilled from. You’ve known Scott long enough by now to know he won’t be the one to say what’s hanging in the air. It would be easier, safer, to walk back in like nothing had happened and return to the motel alone, hitching a ride with anyone other than Scott the next morning.

But if you turn away now, you’ll never see that side of him again: the side that stayed up with you when he could be sleeping, the kind that comforted you without words, the kind that lit your world on fire with every bruising mark he’d left on you. The chance of knowing the man behind the mask.

You don’t miss the way his muscles tense under your touch as you reach for him or the flash of relief that flickers through him. “You think I’m teachable?” You ask, turning big eyes up at him, begging him to see the way you lay yourself bare for him — hoping, praying, that he doesn’t turn you down even still.

“I’m not an easy teacher.” He says, low, still guarded. Still giving you one last out.

You shake your head, a laugh tumbling out. His throat bobs at the sound. “I don’t want easy.” The truth of that hangs heavy in the air, zipping between the two of you as recognition passes through his eyes. “Now are you driving, or am I?”

A faint smile tugs at the corner of his mouth before he presses his tongue into his cheek and takes a step back. “My van, my rules,” he says, his voice softer now but still firm, and you hear the familiar rumble of the Storm Par van coming to life. His keys jingle in his hand as he adds, “You should know that by now.”

You bite your lip, suppressing a smile, and follow him out of the alleyway.

You did know. And as you settle into the passenger seat, the scent of the van enveloping you — a mix of old leather and Scott’s cologne — anticipation crackles in the air. The night stretches ahead, full of unspoken possibilities.

You couldn’t wait to test how far those rules went... and just how much you both were willing to bend them.

[bluejutdae]

best friend Stray Kids saving you (or being saved by you) from a bad date | Chan x you

this will become a series, I’ll make a scenario like this for all the members. Minho | Changbin | Hyunjin | Jisung | Felix | Seungmin | Jeongin

genre: romance, friends to lovers

warnings: asshole guy who thinks sex is required in exchange of a dinner

“I’m sorry but I really have to go, it’s a family emergency. But I’ll call you.” This guy is really pissing you off, but he’s tall and pretty muscular and the vibes you got from him during the (luckily short) date make you uncomfortable.

“Are you really using this lazy excuse? I invited you to dinner, I’m gonna pay, so the least you could do is to put it out there!” You blink in disbelief, he really is a creepy guy. Chan is on his way though, so the thought comforts you a little. You reach into your bag and grab a few bills and, as you place them on the table, you give the guy a sarcastic smile. “I can pay for my own dinner.”

Grabbing your jacket you turn your back to him, ready to leave, but the asshole grabs you by your arm and yanks you towards him. You don’t have the time to do anything because a hand is suddenly around the guy’s wrist like a vice.

“Let her go immediately or I’m going to break your arm.” You’ve never heard Chan talking with such ice in his voice and a shiver runs along your spine.

“Fuck you both. I should have known you were a frigid bitch!” the guy lets you go and raises his free hand in surrender. Before letting him go, Chan looks at you for the first time since his arrival. “Are you okay?” You nod, confused. You thought your crush for Chan was long gone, but if the butterflies in your stomach are any indication, your crush is alive and burning.

Not even 5 minutes later, in a cab with Chan sitting next to you, you catch the end of your best friend’s sentence: “…can’t believe that asshole!”

“You know what’s funny? He called me a ‘frigid bitch’. Isn’t that a bizarre insult? What does it even mean?” Now that you’re with Chan, you’re calm and not scared anymore.

You hear him laughing, shaking his head. “Like anything that came out of his mouth made any sense… but really, are you okay?” You nod again. You’re not scared, you’re not uncomfortable, but something in your chest trembles at the idea of parting with Chan. “Can you stay over tonight?”, you ask quietly.

When you close the door, the atmosphere is uncommonly quiet and tense. Did you make Chan uncomfortable? Did he have other plans? Is he annoyed with you for always needing him? As all those thoughts run across your head, he slips out of his shoes and goes straight to the kitchen, feeling at home in your small apartment. “Can I steal some ramen? I didn’t have the time to eat a proper dinner.” In lieu of an affirmative answer, you wash your hands and start preparing a quick dinner for Chan. “I’m sorry I hijacked your night, Channie.”

“What are you talking about? My plans involved ramen at the dorms and hearing Hyunjin and Jisung screaming against the tv. They started a new drama”, he explains watching you moving around the kitchen. He loves to look at you while you’re busy, while you’re too occupied with something else to notice him studying you, watching you with love in his eyes. Tonight was once again proof you only saw him as a friend and nothing more: otherwise you wouldn’t have gone on a date, right?

Wrong.

You spent ages crushing over him, but once you were sure he felt nothing for you, you tried (in vain, apparently) to get over him.

You place a steaming bowl of food in front of him and sit at the table, looking at him.

“No more lame dates. No, you know what? No more dates.”

“You let a couple of bad guys ruin your search for true love?”

Well, he’s not gonna complain, but he also doesn’t want a bad experience to scar your hopes for romance. “Nah, they’re not worth it. My perfect match is not interested in me anyway.”

Fuck, you shouldn’t have said something like that, now he’s gonna ask questions.

“Perfect march, uh?”

You wave your hand, almost slapping away the topic. “Eat your food, Chan.”

“I thought you told me everything,” he pouts and you’re a weak weak person, how can you be tough in front of his pout?

“There is someone I like, I liked him for a while but it’s unreciprocated, so there’s no point in talking about him.”

“Then he’s dumb. Tell me his name?”

“You kinda know him, so I’d rather not… you know, don’t wanna make it weird.” Chan looks at you with a weird something in his eyes you can’t really understand, but for the sake of your secret you let it slide.

“Movie?”

The movie has been on for at least an hour but neither of you is really watching it. You’re cuddled on the couch, Chan’s head on your lap and your fingers slowly playing with his hair. It’s one of his favorite cuddling positions, and you love it cause you have the chance to watch him without being noticed.

“I wish you’d tell me who he is.”

You freeze in surprise, fingers stilling on his head.

“Chan…”

“No wait, listen for a second.” He sits now, and bites his lip. “We’ve always told pretty much everything, but there are things I haven’t told you either. So I will tell you something secret about me if you tell me who he is.”

“Why do you wanna know?”

“Because!”

He’s quick to get on his feet, walking on the small carpet in front of the tv. “Because I wanna know who’s this dumb guy who is not in love with you. What’s not to love? He’s lucky enough you are interested in him, something I’d give an arm for, and he’s not on his knees worshiping you?” He then freezes, like something hit him and trains his eyes on the floor. “Forget what I said”.

What did he say? Are you drunk and incapable of understanding or Chan just said he’d give an arm to have you interested in him? Something swells into your chest and you decide to be bold for once.

“Do you like me, Chan?”

He stills his pacing, gaze still trained to the floor, and nods carefully.

“It’s you.”

“Mh?”

“The guy I like, it’s you.”

He’s gonna have a sore neck tomorrow, considering the speed in which he raises his head.

“Me?” You nod, with a hopeful smile on your lips.

“I was convinced you felt nothing for me…”

You don’t know which one of you moved first, and it doesn’t really matter. What matters is that you’re kissing, now. You have his wet, soft and pillowy lips on yours, his tongue asking to be let in your mouth, your hands holding the other tight, almost to make sure this is real and you’re not going to vanish any seconds now.

“We’re such a clichè” he says on your lips, laughing cutely.

“Maybe. But I like it anyway.”

If being a clichè is what brought you two finally together, then so be it.

[glossysoap]

thanks for the tip ; 141 camgirl au

tags: poly 141 x reader, camgirl reader, afab reader, use of fem anatomy, smut.

note: this isn’t as official bc it’s a drabble/rambling of a future fic idea.

🏷️: @warenai @viylikescats @cassiecasluciluce @divine--serenity @sunnynomoar @lilpothoscuttings @jumbojazzcats93 @krakenbabe @lordlydragon

you’re their hacker. so you’re not actively in combat, but more behind the scenes gathering intel while they’re in combat. that leaves you with plenty of privacy and more free time than the boys. and you enjoy your sexuality. you own it!

so you become a camgirl. you make sure to maintain anonymity of course, by wearing a mask and using a voice changer. and because you’re a hacker, you made sure that no one could track your IP address and find out you worked on base.

imagine the boys are looking to blow off steam. with one hand on their cock and the other on the computer mouse, they started skimming the camgirl site. until they saw a picture of a live. they clicked on it, and their breath hitches. it’s a girl sitting on her bed, legs spread open and dildo fucking her soaking wet pussy. her moans were loud and desperate, in tandem with the wet sounds.

your head is thrown back in pleasure and your hips buck against your toy, as your hand pumps it in and out. you were wearing a mask so they couldn’t see that it was you. and they’ve never heard you moan so they didn’t know that was you.

but they kept finding themselves coming back to your lives, watching you squirt around your toys or your fingers with a cry of pleasure. white ropes of cum would spurt from their cocks as they watch the anonymous girl on the screen squirting. squirting on the toy that they so desperately wished was their own cock.

your subscribers had the opportunity to send in requests, with tips of course. and the boys took full advantage of that. all with throwaway accounts, of course.

ghost would ask you to wear a skeleton mask. or he might even send you old skeleton gloves of his to wear while you fucked yourself on your fingers. he could feel himself getting hard at the thought of his favorite camgirl squirting on the exact gloves he wore.

soap would ask for you to moan for him, moan his name. he was lucky that johnny was a common name. “johnny, please! i need to cum, please please please!” hearing you moan his name while you squeezed around your thick dildo? just about made him cum himself.

gaz would ask for you to call him sir while you came. maybe even throwing in his name every once in a while. again, he was lucky that kyle was such a common name. hearing you cry, “please let me cum, sir! pleasepleaseplease kyle!” is what pushes him to his own orgasm.

now PRICE? he would make you beg to cum. make you call him captain. “please please please captain! please let me cum on your cock!” then after he finally let you cum, he would tip you over and over. requesting an orgasm for each tip. so you would be forced to squirt on your dildo for the captain, over and over.

they would watch you for a month or so before they noticed a small detail. well, small for anyone but big for them. because that small detail was a birthmark on your wrist. that they saw whenever you pushed the dildo into your cunt over and over, or whenever you pumped three fingers in.

it was also the same birthmark they saw whenever they watched you type on your computer, searching for intel.

©️ glossysoap 2024. please do not steal, copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my works without my permission. do not steal any elements of my theme without permission.

[steviebbboi]

Good For It

Pairing: Ari Levinson x F!Reader

Word Count: 8.1k~ (no idea how this happened) 🫣

Summary: Ari was deeply misunderstood by everyone except you. What happens when someone tries to hurt the one person he cares about the most?

Disclaimer: This is my submission for @stargazingfangirl18 writing challenge, "Siri's Birthday Bonenanza"~ Thank you to Siri for hosting this, and hoping that you all enjoy this as much I loved writing it :)

***I don't give any permission for this to be reposted anywhere! Pls do not steal work, plagiarism isn't demureeee~~~~

Warnings/Triggers: 18+ Minors DNI; Mentions/threats of violence, mentions of drugging reader (not by Ari), mentions of sexual harassment (again, not by Ari), explicit language, explicit smut, oral sex (f. receiving), p in v, angst, fluff, mentions of trauma, PTSD-like symptoms, Lumberjack!Ari, Veteran!Ari.

Prompts: Ari Levinson x F!Reader feat. Bryce Langley (not involved with Reader at all) + "The moment you or babe realize you’re in love with the other" + "Scary!babe is in love and a simp for you" + "Playful trolling/banter"

Quote Prompts: “Why can’t you just let yourself be loved?!” + “Goddamnit, will you just fucking let me do this for you?” + “You move an inch, and you’ll be sorry. + “Can you just…hold me, please?”

Trope Prompt: Scary, dangerous!babe who is only soft with you

Kink(s) Prompt: Size kink + Praise kink + Squirting + Manhandling +soft!dom (ish) + Possessive!babe + breeding (ish?)

Other kinks: mild choking, spanking, overstimulation (if I missed any TW, feel free to lmk)~

Rowdy laughter and the clinking of glasses came into earshot as you pushed the bar doors open. You greeted the bouncer as you usually did and gave a quick scan of the back of the bar. Once you found who you were looking for, you felt your lips quirk into a small smile as you headed toward the back.

Ari Levinson, the local town recluse with only four friends (including yourself and the bouncer-ish). He’s a retired military veteran and is known as “that weird, scary dude who lives alone up in the mountains.” To be fair, the town’s whispered descriptions of him were not entirely inaccurate.

You could feel the regular, daily stares coming in hot as you continued walking toward the back booths. Although you were used to it at this point, you could feel yourself becoming more tense as the whispers started to creep through.

A tired sigh escaped your lips as you passed by one woman in particular who seemed to always let out a muttered comment under her breath—all synonymous with criticism that you never took lightly.

“Poor girl doesn’t know what she’s doing. She’ll end up in the morgue someday.”

“He just has her wrapped around his finger, huh? Someone should say something.”

“You know he almost beat a guy to death a year ago. What is a sweet girl like her doing with a guy like him?”

“Nobody told her to leave the undesirables alone.”

Any and all comments surrounding Ari’s character felt crushing every time you heard them. In the beginning of your relationship with Ari, you used to cry yourself to sleep every night because some of the comments were so scathing. All these people were just judging you because you were with a person that you deeply cared about.

Ari would be there every night to soothe you (he didn’t care as much about what others said). He would wipe your tears by holding your face in his big hands and kiss you until you couldn’t remember what you were crying about in the first place.

See, there are things that people don’t know about Ari. They judged him based on his background and one incident at the mill. He was hulking over everyone at 6'5", his stature and demeanor a bit more closed off and quiet. When people tried to say hi to him, he would give them a small grunt and continue on his way. He wasn’t a small man by any means, emotionally or physically (of which, your size difference is something you both indulge in, in many ways).

The problem was that they only saw and perceived things from the surface. They didn’t see all of the qualities underneath that make him so desirable, wanted, and valuable to you. With Ari, you felt protected, safe, and secure in ways that you had never experienced before. You never felt disrespected by him in the slightest. People didn’t see that, even through his dark aimless stares or quiet mumbles and grumbles, he still cared and was incredibly kind.

One day, you were working furiously on your laptop as you sat on Ari’s couch. Your work was demanding, and more often than not, you would work your remote 9-to-5 job straight through without taking care of yourself. Ari only ever gazed at you with curiosity and never said anything about it. Although you could tell from his stare that he disapproved of your self-negligence. The next time you sat working, Ari placed some dinner on the coffee table in front of you. The smell of the hot, homemade food made your tummy rumble as you stopped typing after four hours of working nonstop to look up at him with surprise.

“Eat,” Ari said simply and reached out to stroke the exposed skin peeking out from underneath the blanket on top of you before heading back to the kitchen. You usually wouldn’t let anything get in the way of your work, but his act of care was so wholesome and precious that you stopped and ate the whole thing.

Ari came back once you were finished to sit down next to you under the blanket with a book. He made an effort to get comfortable by placing his large, calloused hand on your inner thigh underneath your now-shared afghan before getting back to his reading. You could only stare at him, astonished by how this beefy, quiet giant of a man managed to not only get you to pause your work but also make you eat (disrupting your chain of focus and habits was not an easy feat, just ask your ex-partners). He let out another deep grumble when you kissed his bearded cheek with a soft thank you as you put away your laptop and leaned into his shoulder to read with him.

It was then that you realized Ari, depicted as this scary, violent, tainted, isolated person, was deeply misunderstood.

It was also the moment that you realized you were deeply in love with him.

Coming out of your reverie, you let out the tension that had been carried in your chest as you saw your man start to turn as you finally approached the booth. Your soft smile turned into a genuine grin when your eyes met his. You greeted Sammy (his third friend) as you went to scoot next to Ari. You put an arm around him to give a gentle rub on his large back while giving him a quick kiss on his cheek. As usual, he gave you a quiet, deep mumble of acknowledgement but proceeded to put his muscular arm around you protectively, giving you the opportunity to place the hand that had been shoved to your side around his thick, jean-clad thigh.

“What are we talking about?” You engaged Sammy first, knowing that Ari would likely be more of an active listener, as he usually was.

Sammy and Ari were in service together, along with Rachel (the bartender and the fourth friend, completing the group). Ari was noticeably relaxed with them, as he was with you, but you had no idea how they got the man to talk. You heard stories of their time in active duty, but they never went beyond surface-level details. You knew Ari had done some dangerous work during his time in the military; he never really talked about it, but you could surmise that he was still recovering from it, especially since that incident a year ago.

“Oh, you know, same old, same old. Rachel threw beer on a guy who was trying to score free drinks by hitting on her,” Sammy said with a smirk.

You laughed freely. “Man, I wish I had been there to see it! Some newbie at the office messed something up, and who has to fix it? Me, of course.” You rolled your eyes and put a hand to your forehead to rub away the fatigue.

“Did you eat, baby?” Ari cut in quietly. You turned to meet his concerned gaze and gave him a soft smile with a rub to his knee. “Yes, honey. I was able to have my assistant run out to grab some grub. Don’t worry.”

He gave another affirmative grunt with a nod and shifted to hand you a beer that was hidden at the end of the table. You huffed out a quiet laugh before giving him one last squeeze on the knee before reaching for the drink gratefully. Of course, Ari had already gotten you a drink but only gave it to you after you gave your daily report. He was always looking after you.

“When are they going to gear up and give you that promotion?” Sammy asked, shaking his head.

You gave a despondent shake before sighing. “You know, they’re a small company. I think we’re understaffed as it is right now. That’s why these new hires keep making these small mistakes.”

“Aaaand that’s why they need to promote you to manager, to teach some sense into ‘em! Ari’s always sayin’ you’d be a great supervisor.” He replied with an encouraging smile.

Now you were the one letting out a small questioning mumble while looking down at your drink bashfully. You felt Ari stroke the back of your arm with a firm gentleness, and you knew it really meant, “Yes, you do deserve more.” 

This kind of touch was often a reminder for you to believe in yourself and that you deserved better things (a tough job for your ex-partners, you might add). Ari had seemingly broken a cycle for you, helping you genuinely care about yourself in a way you hadn’t before. (All the ways he protects you are just sickeningly cute, aren’t they?)

Bringing yourself back to the present, you gave Sammy a stronger “hm” in response and said, “I know. I mean, when will these bastards just wake up?”

Sammy gave a shout of laughter and a “hell yeah”  before giving you another supportive response. You turned to Ari briefly to give him another smile of appreciation, only to notice that he was already looking at you. But the glint in his eyes… you hadn’t seen that before. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you registered Sammy announcing he was going back to the bar for another drink.

The two of you were now alone, just observing each other. A shiver ran down your spine at his piercing gaze as you asked quietly, “Everything okay, honey?”

At your reserved tone, Ari gave you a subtle, tilted smile. “I love you,” he said simply.

Your breath hitched, and you felt your eyes widen at his surprise revelation. You knew that you loved Ari, maybe even before you realized it yourself. There were many ways the two of you showed your love and care for each other—from cooking food for each other to gentle caresses during more intimate moments. However, this was the first time either of you had ever said it out loud.

Now you were the one stumbling over your words, struggling to respond, swallowing thickly as you tried to say it back. It’s not that you felt you couldn’t, but the man had just revealed that he loved you, in a bar no less! The guy was usually full of grumbles, deep hums, and mumbles. You never would have expected him to reveal something so vulnerable and intimate in an environment like this. You figured your actions would be proof enough, and that was okay with you. You accepted that about Ari—you never expected him to actually say it.

At your floundering, Ari had a full-on smirk on his handsome face. He seemed to appreciate how the tables had turned. You stopped your mumbles once you saw his reaction to your shock and squinted your eyes in fake indignation. His smirk only grew wider, the glint you noticed earlier now turning into an affectionate mirth that you knew Ari reserved just for you.

“Damn him and his sexy, lumberjack hotness,” you thought to yourself. You and Ari both knew you loved it when he teased you like this. You pretended to be upset, but it was all part of how well the two of you bantered throughout your relationship.

Most of your relationship involved speaking in a language your friends couldn’t quite understand, which only played into the image of how polar opposites you two were. But you and Ari reveled in it, just like Ari was now. You were more embarrassed at being caught stumbling on your words, and felt the need to beat him in your little game. The man hadn’t even said anything in the past minute, and he was already winning. He knew how you felt about him; it was just fun for him to see you all flustered.

“HA– alright, Mr. Grumbles. I’m going to get us some more drinks. Did you want anything else?” you said begrudgingly while gathering your glasses to bring back to the bar.

“No, baby. Sammy said he was going to get us some, though.” Ari conceded his smirk (and victory). Speak of the devil, and he shall appear—Sammy came up behind you to slide back into the booth, but with only one drink in his hand. You and Ari stared at him and then looked back at the beer with questioning eyes.

Sammy got comfortable and noticed both of your stares only when he realized that nobody was talking. Glancing down at his own drink, then toward your empty glasses, and back to your amused stares again, he muttered abashedly, “You didn’t say I had to get you another drink too.”

You let out a small giggle and looked back at Ari again to repeat, “Did you want anything else, baby?”

Ari responded with the same amusement in his tone. “No, love.” He grinned back at you as he said the endearment, which only furthered your fake ire. You pouted your lips in playful anger and met his beguiled stare with your own before standing up from the booth.

As you gathered the empty glasses again, you saw Ari attempting to grab them from you as he also stood up from his seat.

“No– don’t worry, Ari. I’ve got it,” you reassured him, but he ignored you and responded only with a grunt. He proceeded to scoot out of the small booth, hunched over the table.

Letting the glasses go, you pressed down on Ari’s shoulders hard to shove him back into his seat. His eyes widened in surprise at the forceful touch as he sat back down, but you knew you hadn’t hurt him. If anything, he lurched back from you since he didn’t want to bump into you while attempting to get out.

“Goddammit, will you just fucking let me do this for you?” you scolded him in feigned anger. You grabbed the glasses quickly and scurried away before he could respond. You only heard him and Sammy laughing at your retreat before the chatter from the other end of the bar became more prominent as you approached.

Setting the two glasses down on an empty section of the bar top, you leaned over slightly to catch Rachel’s perceptive gaze. She nodded with a smile on her face as she made you two new drinks. Glancing around the rest of the bar with mild interest, you couldn’t help but reflect on Ari’s intimate reveal.

A smile spread onto your lips, and you let out a small laugh to yourself. You were in love with a man who communicated with short hums and grunts, and with only three words—he had unraveled you. You felt so happy in that moment to be with someone who could meet you where you were, for once.

At first, you were intimidated by the looming lumberjack, but as you got to know each other, you grew to understand that he didn’t need big, fancy words to connect with you. Ari was the kind of partner who was straightforward with you and never hid anything maliciously while still respecting the integrity of your relationship. You felt grateful to be a part of each other’s lives.

Floating mindlessly in your thoughts, you didn’t notice the man staring at you across the bar. You also didn’t notice him approaching until you heard him say, “Hey there, what are you smiling about, sweetheart?”

Glancing over, the giddiness you felt thinking about your relationship with Ari was now interrupted by feelings of annoyance and suspicion. “I’m good, thanks,” you responded dismissively, not even bothering to answer his question.

“Aw, c’mon—just wanna talk a bit. Hey, are you with anyone right now?” the guy persisted.

Looking at the intrusive person, you could tell he was a bit younger than you. His polo shirt was disheveled, and his demeanor seemed careless. If his side-swept hair wasn’t an indication of his immaturity, it was the way he reeked of alcohol and weed. A smug smile lifted on his face as he assumed you were checking him out, when in reality, you were trying to piece together how to shut this down and walk around him on your way back to the booth.

“Uh, I am. Just waiting for our drinks,” you answered shortly, hoping your dismissiveness would be enough to make him go away. Heckling men never seem to take the hint when you’re not interested, and it seems like telling them off only riles them up more.

“Well, if I were your friend, I certainly wouldn’t have let you come up here by yourself. There are some weirdos out here, y’know?” He leaned onto the bar and into you, his body too close for comfort. You leaned back and crossed your arms defensively.

“I’m sorry—let me? Listen, kid—you got one thing right: there are weirdos out here. Almost like some weirdos just don’t seem to get the hint when they’re harassing women who only want to be left alone by the bar.” You couldn’t hold in your snark as this misogynistic asshole seemed to only smile wider at your reactions.

“Right! That’s why you’re lucky I’m here, sweetheart. Considering that I’m being so helpful by giving you this piece of advice, I think that now makes us friends.” He laughed, ignoring your irritation.

“Everything okay here?” You looked up to find Rachel putting down the newly made beers while looking the stranger dead in the eyes. You could see him squirm a bit, and you stifled a giggle—you were always amused to see her put men in their place.

“It’s okay, Rach. I’m heading back to those two dummies, anyway.” You left some bills on the counter. Rachel gave you a look since she always insisted drinks were on the house for you, but you never really listened. She took the money anyway, gave the guy one last daggered look, and made a small dismissive sound before leaving to attend to other customers.

Ignoring Rachel’s reaction, he turned to you and said, “Well, where are these two dummies you speak of? Are they cute like you?” He looked over at the general crowd of women lingering behind you.

You cleared your throat at his blatant ignorance. “Actually, my two dummies are over there.” You pointed to the back where Sammy and Ari’s profiles could be briefly seen.

He followed your hand to see the two men sitting there and let out a surprised “ah.” He looked back at you after seeing the men but couldn’t help but do a double take once he recognized one of them.

“Wait, you’re that guy’s friend?” he asked incredulously, looking at you expectantly.

You gave him a warning look and made an affronted sound. “Careful. ‘Friends’ don’t talk to their friends like that. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” You gestured to take your drinks, which seemed to snap him out of his shock.

“Hey, hey—wait! Relax, relax. That just took me off guard, but… I mean, you do know what he did, right?” He gave you the same look others would give you, almost disgusted, as if he couldn’t believe a ‘girl like you’ would be with a ‘guy like him.’

Your eyes narrowed and you huffed an exasperated breath, preparing to retort, but were interrupted by a voice yelling, “Yo, Bryce, hurry up!” You looked to the end of the bar to see another young man in a polo (god, these entitled kids are a dime a dozen) looking over at you. They wore the same cocky, smug smiles, and you were immediately done with this interaction.

Letting out a scoff, you replied, “Well, Bryce, it’s been real. Now, please, leave me alone.” Not mincing words nor your mocking tone, you started to grab your drinks when you froze in place, frowning as you noticed one of your drinks had an abnormal fizz on top.

“Are you kidding me? Did he just…?” Your thoughts felt scattered as you realized that your drink had been spiked. Your frown persisted as you looked back at Bryce in disbelief. “Did you really just do that?”

Bryce looked nonchalant at your question and, almost innocently, responded, “What are you talking about, sweetheart?” He had a dopey look on his face, but he couldn’t even hide his rising grin at your growing outrage. You knew you weren’t overreacting and you knew what you saw in your drink.

“You just spiked my drink—what the fuck is wrong with you?!” You accused and turned to catch Rachel’s attention. A strong grip twisted your arm back to Bryce as he looked at you with something completely vile in his eyes. He leaned in close to whisper in your ear with venom as you leaned back and attempted to get his hand off you. “Stuck-up bitch. You know you would’ve been asking for it if you didn’t have your killer boyfriend to cover you.”

Feeling his hot breath in your ear made you panic even more, his unrelenting grip getting tighter by the second. You shouted while trying to push him off you, “Get the fuck off of me! LET GO!”

You flailed your limbs more in your attempts to make a scene. You heard a barstool crash to the ground loudly, and all of a sudden Bryce’s fingers were no longer around your arm. The only thing in your vision was a person’s vast back.

Ari.

Catching your breath from your panic, the sounds of the bar that had seemed to mute during your thrashing suddenly tuned back in. You registered pained groans and the utter silence, yet concerned murmurs scattered across the room. Looking over from behind Ari’s back, you saw Sammy putting a hand in between Ari and Bryce, who was now on the floor, clutching his nose with blood spilling out rapidly.

“You fucking prick! I’ll press charges!” Bryce shouted from the ground as his friends crowded around him, trying to get him up.

Rachel raised her voice to be heard amidst the chaos and said, “I saw what happened, asshole. I’d be happy to call the cops and let them know about you and your buddies’ attempts to sexually harass my customers.”

Bryce, now being held up by his friends, looked over at Rachel menacingly. Rachel didn’t back down and walked towards the phone on the wall. “Shall we?”

Bryce hissed in pain from his new injury and looked back to meet Ari’s stone-cold eyes. Sammy turned to face Bryce and his friends with a look of caution, almost ready to get into a fight if it came to that.

Bryce took a heavy gulp, attempting to stare Ari down with bravado. He then locked his jaw and scoffed, “Whatever, I’m out of here.”

The bouncer suddenly appeared behind you, making you startle slightly, and pushed the group toward the exit. As they got closer, you hid yourself behind Ari’s back and gripped his shirt tightly for comfort. You could feel Ari’s hand reach for your waist, and you assumed he could sense your shaking and wanted to offer you more protection and ease.

In your peripheral vision, you could see and feel Bryce’s eyes staring at you, almost as if he wanted to say one last thing. But Ari’s grip on your waist tightened as he turned to face Bryce directly, orienting you with him and blocking his gaze from you. Though you couldn’t see it, Ari looked deadly in that moment, removing any access Bryce had to your presence.

“If you ever come back in here, and if I ever see you near her again, I will hurt you,” Ari said quietly, but his warning reverberated across the large space. “And you know that I’m good for it.”

Bryce, still clutching his nose, averted his gaze and continued moving toward the exit.

As the group exited, people still looked over but gradually returned to their tables and muttered conversations. The jukebox came back on at a lower volume, and people eventually resumed their activities.

You were still clutching Ari’s back as you released a sigh of relief. You leaned into him, your forehead resting between his shoulders. The adrenaline had left you with residual energy, and it was noticeably hard for you to regulate your emotions. Ari heard you release one more exhale in an attempt to calm down before he turned to meet your tight grip with his strong hands.

“Hey, hey, you’re okay, baby.” He released your hands with one last squeeze and cupped your face sweetly. He whispered more reassurances as he pulled your face close to his and leaned down to give you a soft kiss on your forehead.

“Sammy, we’re gonna get going.” Ari glanced at the teary-eyed look on your face and knew you couldn’t stay. He wouldn’t have expected you to, either—he was accustomed to chaotic and loud environments, able to regulate during scary situations. Ari knew this was exceptionally jarring for you, and he desperately wanted to protect you from any feelings of unsafety. His priority since you entered his life was to preserve your softness, and if his hard exterior could help do that, he would go to any length to ensure you felt secure with him.

“Of course, check in and get home safe.” You also turned to give Sammy and Rachel a soft smile and a quiet ‘thank you.’ If there was any effort to expend, it would be that.

They returned your smile with reminders to be safe while driving home, and Ari took your small hand in his to lead you to the exit. You both passed by the bouncer, who returned Ari’s thanks for earlier with an affirmative nod and also gave you a parting “feel better.” You muttered your appreciation and clutched Ari’s forearm with your other hand still in his. You felt that if you weren’t right by his side, if he weren’t touching you, the panic would rush back in.

On the car ride back to Ari’s place, you kept yourself as close to him as possible. The truck’s seats facilitated closeness; Ari wrapped his right arm around you protectively while driving with his left.

Ari appreciated that you felt safe with him. Unbeknownst to you, his own panic about losing you crept in whenever you weren’t by his side.

His arm wrapped around you tighter, and his caress provided comfort for him as well during the rest of the ride home.

Later that night, after Ari got out of the shower, you noticed cuts on his knuckles from his punch earlier.

“Ari, why didn’t you say anything earlier? Come here.” You scolded him as you led the giant of a man (a very half-naked, still wet giant of a man—okay, focus) to sit on the toilet seat.

“Baby, it’s fine—” Ari began to say, but you interrupted him, “Honey, let me do this—why can’t you just let yourself be loved?!” Ari let out a rare scoffed smile at ​​your dramatic flair before acknowledging you with his usual grunt. You returned his smile and gave him a kiss on the forehead.

Ari watched you as you ventured over to the bathroom counter to gather the first aid kit. You were already in your sleep clothes—simple camisole and shorts. Though he remained silent, you could feel his eyes roaming over your newly exposed skin. You glanced up at the wide mirror and caught him in the act as his gaze lingered a bit too long on your ass. You stifled a small laugh, and his eyes met yours unashamedly.

You turned to walk back over to him, and his eyes never left yours as you took his palm gently between your hands. As you cleaned the small wound, you could feel his gaze burning on your skin. You took your time patching him up, and with the last bandage, you brought his burly hand to your lips, planting a meaningful kiss on his knuckles. Continuing to brush your lips against the back of his hand, you left more kisses until you reached the underside of his wrist.

Ari’s gaze darkened with every peck of affection you left on his clean skin. As you raised his hand to rest it on your cheek, Ari’s other arm wrapped around the low of your waist, pulling you in closer. Deciding you weren’t close enough, you straddled his towel-clad waist. Enjoying the intimacy, you both savored the simplicity of feeling safe in each other’s embrace. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you softly caressed his wet strands of hair away from his face. Tucking your face into the crevice of his neck, you closed your eyes and hummed contentedly, feeling his large hands rub up and down your back. You felt so small enveloped in his arms.

“Look at me, baby,” Ari whispered softly. He laid a calloused hand on your cheek and stroked it gently with his thumb. His other arm remained wrapped around you to support you, and he said, “I know that we don’t talk about this often enough, but I want you to know that I would never hurt you. Ever.”

You gave Ari a confused look. “I know that, Ari. I trust you. I always feel safe with you.” His eyes were full of concern as you rushed to reassure him. Your own hand rested on his bearded cheek. “I know that what happened at the mill last year has lingered a bit.”

He turned his gaze downward until you cooed at him, making him look back at you. “Hey, I know you. I know that you were only doing what you thought was right. At that moment, it was about protecting Sammy. The guy was making threats against you both. It made sense that you went to defend yourself.”

Ari was quiet for a minute. You continued stroking his cheek to let him process. This was a vulnerable conversation for Ari that his usual grunts couldn’t explain.

He broke the silence by saying, “I lied to you.”

Your heart froze, and you felt even more confused. Your hand dropped back down to grip his bulky shoulder. “What do you mean?” you asked tentatively.

Ari met your curious gaze with an ashamed look. “He wasn’t making threats against Sammy… he was saying things about you. Us. How a woman like you shouldn’t be with someone like me—‘damaged goods.’”

Lines formed between your eyebrows as you tried to register what Ari was saying. Leaning into your silence, he continued, “Then he started saying that he would be a better fit for you. He talked about all the ways he would treat you better, and then he shoved me and… I just lost it.” Ari’s mouth twisted grimly, and his eyes held a weighted look. “I just… didn’t want to lose you.”

Swallowing thickly, you reflected on that time in your relationship when you heard about Ari being involved in an accident at the mill. It wasn’t until you saw him that you realized there had been no accident, and that Ari had put his co-worker in the hospital. Of course, you worried about the implications of his actions and what it would mean for the two of you. At a certain point, you did question your safety with Ari.

But you remembered meeting him at the station when the police let him go due to it being self-defense (and many of Ari’s co-workers, including Sammy, vouching for the incident). He had the same look that he had now—fear.

In that moment, despite what he had done, you knew there was something so strong and willed behind his reaction. He was so protective and gentle with you, and you believed him. You believed that that was the man that you were falling in love with. You just never would have guessed it came from the fear of losing you.

Realizing you had been quiet for a while as you processed your feelings and what you wanted to say, Ari didn’t move from his position. He licked his lips nervously, waiting for your response.

Releasing a slow breath, you cupped Ari’s face in your hands and looked him in the eye. “You protect, Ari, that’s just what you do.”

Ari exhaled in relief and felt a dark weight lift off of his shoulders, his stomach no longer churning, while putting his forehead to your chest. He moved his arms under your butt and lifted you slightly to do this but you embraced him openly. You stroked his hair again as he started kissing your exposed skin above your breast until he was laying a series of soft kisses up your neck. You both knew what his kisses really meant: “I’m sorry, I love you.”

You hummed out a soft moan as his lips found that spot under your ear that felt extra sensitive to his touch. Turning his face to meet your cheek, he tilted his head slightly so that he could finally reach your mouth. You allowed Ari to control the pace of the kiss and moaned when you felt his tongue softly caress yours. 

The tension in the air quickly thickened into something more primal and electric from Ari’s confession. There was something about this huge, strong man protecting only you that made you feel so worshiped and desired. These feelings start to overcome you and you move to sit on top of Ari’s towel-covered erection only to grind yourself down on him. Ari groaned sensually into the kiss at the feeling of delicious pressure sitting on his hard cock. Your mouths continue languidly meeting each other when you let out a squeak from Ari suddenly gripping your thighs tightly to carry you back into the bedroom. 

You released a squeal as Ari threw you on top of the bed before dropping his towel on the floor. Breathing heavier, you backed up on the bed to get a better look at his glorious sculpted figure and Ari only smirked at your hooded eyes gazing all over his body. Standing at the edge of the bed, Ari decided that you were too far away and he gripped your ankle to roughly tug you back towards him. Letting out another brief squeal and giggle, you quickly sought into his rhythm as he kneeled onto the bed. 

His bulking mass overshadowed you as he leaned forward to place more deceivingly gentle kisses upon the exposed skin of your stomach where your tank top rode up. Your stomach fluttered as you could feel his kisses getting wetter, and were leading down towards your cotton-clad pussy. You whined in anticipation as Ari gently tugged off your shorts to reveal your soaking core. 

Ari let out a deep groan at the sight of your pussy weeping for his touch. Using his hands to spread your legs open to make space for his massive stature, you gasped for air even though he has barely touched you. You stroke the hands holding you down and beg, “Ari, please. Please do something.” 

At your begging, Ari released a louder groan this time. “God, baby. Look at you just creaming for me, and I haven’t even touched you yet. You want me to take care of you, sweet girl?” 

He used his forearms to hold your already squirming legs down as he used his thumb to cut through a string of wet and reveal your thrumming pink clit. Not being able to resist his own yearning, he gave a firm lick up your cunt and released a deep groan at the first taste of you on his tongue. “Oh fuck, you taste so fucking sweet.” He groaned and went back into your cunt for more. 

You sobbed your pleasure at the feeling of his tongue caressing your wet folds, “Yes, please, Ari– please!” His tongue continued licking all over your pussy while he released his own small moans at the taste of you. He made sure to thrust his tongue into your soaked opening before licking his way back towards your now puffy clit. 

Your moans steadily increased in volume and small, short-bursts of whimpers fell out of your mouth as Ari devoured you. Feeling his lips suction at your clit, you mewl and feel his thick finger start to breach your entrance. Your head fell back on the bed, your mouth agape at the sheer pleasure you were receiving from your man. One hand tightly gripping the sheet next to you and the other wrapped in Ari’s hair as you kept him in place, your hips started to thrust back into his mouth and fingers. Not expecting for you to turn so wildly, Ari’s mouth left your clit unwillingly. Letting out a whine at the loss of warmth, you press down on the back of Ari’s head to get him back into position. 

But all of a sudden, you felt a sharp smack on your ass and you let out a yelp. Ari was still thrusting his finger, and inserting a second one, at a slower pace when he looked up at you. His lips and beard glistened with your wetness when he said darkly, “You move an inch, and you’ll be sorry. Do you understand me, baby?”

You could only respond with a soft whimper before letting out another cry as he slapped your ass again. “I said, do you understand me?” 

“Yes, Ari, I understand.” You responded with a glazed look in your eye at the combination of pain from his smacks and pleasure from his domineering words. 

“There’s my sweet girl, so good for me.” Ari said before he kissed his way back to your sopping cunt, his fingers thrusting faster now as his mouth created a suction on your clit again. Releasing out a louder cry at the transition, you could feel Ari’s fingers start to push deeper and curve inside of you to find your g-spot. You let out a sharp gasp once you felt him start to stroke that spongy spot over and over again while his tongue started to softly create a rhythmic pattern on your throbbing bud. 

The other thing about your relationship with Ari is that he was the most vocal when you were fucking. He always let you know how you felt around him and freely praised you as you gave each other the most visceral and intense experience. Anticipating more from him, your body rolled with his fingers to get him even deeper inside of you.

Only squeaking out sounds now, your high-pitched tones of pleasure were music to Ari’s ears. Your wet starting to squelch around his fingers and spurt out of you, Ari knew you were almost there. His fingers thrusted faster into you and curved in deeper with each thrust. He groaned, “Hmm, yeah baby? Is this the spot right here?”

You couldn’t conjure up a response as you were only experiencing the immense pleasure that he was giving to you and almost animalistic groans started leaving your throat. Ari looked up to see your head thrown back on the bed and your upper body contorting, your tanktop having ridden up and was now showing your beautiful perky, round breasts. Nipples peaked in heightened pleasure. Witnessing you like this was a privilege for Ari and he never thought you looked more beautiful than when you were writhing for him in the bedroom. 

A deep desire to witness more of you, Ari increased his efforts by pushing down on your tummy just above your mount. “Yeah, that’s the spot. Be a good girl for me, and let me have it. Let go for me.” He breathes against your slit while giving you one last intentional suck and rapid licking at your clit. 

Inhaling sharply, his words were your undoing as you felt that tight knot inside of you tear in ecstasy. Your head tossed back in euphoria as you cum hard, your pussy clenched around his fingers. Though, Ari didn’t stop thrusting his fingers deep inside of you. Whispering good girl and so sweet against your thrumming folds as he continued to coach you through your release. 

You let out a satiated whimper at experiencing your orgasm but Ari wasn’t stopping. If anything, his fingers curved into your g-spot faster and his tongue licked harder at your humming, swollen clit. You did thrash at the overstimulation. Your disobedience resulted in Ari slapping your ass once more. Even though it was served as a punishment, it seemed to only end up heightening your yearning for a second release. Noticing that your juices were spurting out excessively now, Ari kept slapping your ass as your pussy gripped tighter onto his large fingers. 

Letting out a myriad of whimpers and desperate moans, you sobbed out, “Ari please, please…I can’t do it, please!”

“Yes, you can baby, you can. Don’t you want to be good for me?”

You couldn’t answer him other than your random babblings– you couldn’t even think as you felt so consumed by the pleasure that he was giving you. You felt like you were being consumed by him and adored at the same time. 

A cry left your lips as he slapped your ass harder. “I asked you a question, are you my good girl?”

“Yes, yes, please, let me cum, please!” You sobbed out. 

Ari grunted deeply, “Your pussy is begging for it– you hear that?” He quieted only for the sounds of your own wetness slopping out of you to fill the space. “Mmm, see, I know you can do it, just one more, love.” Ari went back to suckling on your clit while he rubbed and grabbed at your now pink-colored flesh. 

Hearing him use this endearment again as his lips never left your body made your eyes roll up and you inadvertently held your breath as you let go for the second time. You register Ari’s moans and praise against your clit as you squirt your cum into his awaiting mouth. 

All you could let out were quiet mumbles of satisfaction as Ari’s fingers slowed. Your body was still jerking as it carried out aftershocks of your release, and you let out another sharp breath as Ari left one last kiss on your velvety folds. 

You were attempting to catch your breath as Ari kissed his way up your body, spending some time on your nipples by taking one in his mouth while his hand caressed your other breast. Ari brought up his fingers that were just inside of you to stroke your nipple and groaned as you glistened with your own cum. Leaning down, he took your nipple in his mouth again to suck it clean. You moaned softly and arched your back to give him more access as your hands stroked affectionately through his hair.  

Working his way back towards your bite-ridden lips, Ari slanted his wet mouth over yours as you taste yourself on his tongue. The both of you moaned as you continued making out leisurely. Ari pulled back to lick your lips sensually before dipping into your open mouth one more time for his tongue to meet yours in a passionate, sloppy dance.

Ari stroked your hair away from your face. “You ready for my cock, baby?” 

You whined and nodded as he leaned down to give you another wet kiss. You feel him reaching for his cock, hard and resting on your clit heavily. You mewled at him again as he slapped your clit with the wide mushroom head of his cock and he pushed in slowly. 

Groaning together at the feel of his thick cock bottoming in you, Ari lets out a strained moan. “Fuuuck baby, your pretty pussy is just sucking me in. Agh, so tight.” 

He withdrew until he was almost out of you before thrusting back into you deeply. Your eyes rolled back in your head and your mouth fell open as you could feel the veins on his girthy cock graze your inner walls. 

Ari leaned his head back in ecstasy at the feel of you clenching around him. He squeezed his eyes shut and groaned out your name, “Yes, take it, baby. Take my fat cock.” 

You felt like you could barely breathe as his thrusts became faster and harder. He was sinking in so deep and you were gasping for air at all of the sensations your body was experiencing. Besides your mutual groans and moans, the sounds of your union could be heard as you only became wetter at the stimulation. 

“I’m so full, so full…so big, Ari.” You mumbled out, your eyes crossed in ecstasy. Ari let out a condescending laugh, “Aww, look at you. Can’t even speak, can you? Just continue taking my cock, honey, you’re so good at it.” 

Ari leaned up and thrust out of you, despite your desperate whining, only to turn you on your stomach. You feel him kneel outside of your thighs that were clenched together, and only had time to hold onto the pillow in front of you as he thrust back in. You gasped out a high pitched moan and small, repeated sounds of pleasure came out of your mouth as you felt his long shaft pit up against your g-spot with every thrust. 

“There she is, yesss. You’re so fucking tight when I take you like this, baby. Your pussy is gripping me like a vice, goddamn.” Ari groaned louder as your warmth enveloped him. Tension started brewing again deep inside your belly as he thrust faster into you. 

Leaning down, his chest was damp and his hair grazed your smooth skin as it met your back. He lifted you slightly to wrap his right hand around your neck and squeezed. He whispered harshly in your ear, “Don’t ever forget that you’re mine. This pussy is mine, your body. I’ll always protect you, you hear me, love?”

Gripping onto the pillow in front of you fiercely, you couldn’t contain your moans that were now resonating in the room. His possessiveness, his fingers gripping your throat so protectively, and the passion in his words made you feel so hot, you felt that coil in your belly about to snap. The sensation pulling at that area inside of you that felt so full and relieving when released. “Ari, yes, I’m yours! You’re gonna make me cum again!” 

“Yeah, I am, love. Soak my cock, make a mess with my pussy.” He released the grip on your throat to lean back up and take your hips in his hands for full control. His thrusts were consistently hard and deep. It twisted that coil inside of you so delightfully that you finally snapped and cried out your orgasm. 

Ari’s thrusts became sloppier as your juices squirted around his cock. He bellowed out a deep and low groan from his strained throat and followed you as you rode out your orgasm against him. You moan at the feeling of his dick throbbing inside of you and feeling him cum so deep in your pussy made you feel like you were being claimed. His dick was still buried deep inside as you gyrated against him. At the overstimulation, Ari thrust out of you with a sharp hiss and a mixture of your cum with his started to spurt out of you. 

“Fuck, so pretty, baby. Here, let me help you.” He breathed out heavily while his hand left your hip to use his finger to push your combined cum back into your quivering pussy. You moaned out at the sensation of his thick finger thrusting his warm spend further into you and mewled in content. 

Ari kneaded and squeezed your ass one last time before attempting to get off the bed to get a towel to clean you up but you clutched his hand before he could fully leave and pleaded, “Wait baby, stay. Can you just…hold me, please?”

He picked up the hand that you were holding to kiss the back of yours softly and collapsed on the bed next to you as you leaned into his outstretched arms. Cuddling him as your head rested over his chest, you felt him graze his fingers soothingly on your arm. You both were satiated in your passionate release, and after the day that you had, you both were starting to feel the effects of it. 

Embracing you in his arms, the warmth of your body and the softness of your skin felt like heaven against him. Before his sleepy eyes shut completely, you gave him a gentle tap above his heart to get his attention one last time. He peered down at you and gave you a relaxed grin. With his familiar grunt, his eyes questioned your touch. 

You gazed into his blue eyes that were filled with such affection, the same glint that you saw earlier at the bar. A familiar burning in your eyes started to come on at his stare, but you blinked them away to smile back fondly at him. 

“I love you too, Ari.” 

A/N: Welp! We made it -- I'm hoping ya'll enjoyed Ari and reader on this one. Something about Lumberjack!Ari being protective and only having eyes for you makes me feral and that can be the only explanation as to why this is so long lol. I would love to know what ya'll thought! Speak soon, lads~

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[hellfirenacht]

Anomaly Part 2

Summary: You can talk to anyone in school with no problem. At least, anyone who's not named Eddie Munson.

Tags: Anxious-ish!Reader but not shy, one sided pining, no use of y/n, fem!reader, one sided enemies to lovers, fem!reader

2.1k Words

Part 1

School assemblies were fun in their own way. You weren’t exactly brimming with school spirit but you could fake it for a half-hour when it got you out of your History class. Everyone was ushered into the gym at the end of the day to celebrate the sport season. You had no idea if the Hawkin’s Tigers were good or not, you could really only name two and a half people on the basketball team: Jason Carver, who you unfortunately had shared a free period with once, Lucas Sinclair, who you had seen talking to Eddie once in a blue moon, and Steve Harrington who had graduated, so he didn’t really count. You vaguely remembered working with him on some school project for two days and thinking that you just wanted to squish his hair down to see if it would spring back up. 

Stacy bounded over to you in the bleachers, decked out in more Tiger’s Green than a leprechaun. She shook the scrunchy out of her hair and slipped it onto your wrist. You sometimes wondered how she never became a cheerleader with how perky she was.

“There, now you look like you tried.” she giggled, nudging you. 

“I was gonna scribble on my face with a green dry erase marker, but Mr. Thompson’s had run dry.” You said. 

“He was probably lying so you wouldn’t steal one and huff it in the bathroom.” 

“Hey, that was one time and 4th grade math was hard.” you cackled. 

“Speaking of hard drugs, look who decided to actually show up.” Stacy smirked and your stomach instantly dropped as you followed her gaze. 

“What the fuck is Eddie doing here?” you whispered to Stacy. “He doesn’t do pep rallies!”

“Guess he does now.” she shrugged. 

Eddie was a few rows lower than you, leaning against the end railing of the bleachers. You vaguely wondered if he was burning up in that leather jacket, it wasn’t exactly cool in the gym with so many bodies all squished together. 

He was alone, looking like he’d rather be literally anywhere else. You didn’t blame him, this clearly wasn’t a place where he fit in. You looked down the bleachers in the opposite direction, unable to pick out any of his friends. During pep rallies, the bleachers were divided by grade, with Seniors on your end of the bleachers, and freshmen on the opposite end. Maybe Eddie was pressing himself against the railing to create his own section of Super Seniors. 

If he was anyone else, you’d join him in that section, but you kept that knowledge to yourself. 

“He looks lonely, go talk to him before they start.” Stacy encouraged. 

“Please, I doubt he’d want to talk to me at any other time. You think he wants to talk to me now?” you asked incredulously. 

“What’s the worst that could happen?” 

“He could convince me to join a cult and then sacrifice me to the dark forces.” you said, looking over at him. Well, it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. 

Eddie’s head snapped up and he whirled around. Out of everyone around, his eyes immediately locked onto yours. 

Oh shit.

He heard that. 

His round brown eyes sized you up, and you cringed out of embarrassment for your stupid joke. You felt like a deer in the headlights. Eddie was looking at you, really looking at you for the first time and you were about two seconds away from jumping off the back of the bleachers and tunneling your way out of the school. 

Next to you, you could practically feel Stacy shaking as she tried to hold in her laughter, which unfortunately, triggered your own set of nervous giggling because this whole thing was so stupid and Eddie was still looking at you. 

He looked unimpressed, and flipped you off before turning back around to sulk against the railing again as the band suddenly started up, and everyone started cheering for the team. 

“Gotta say, I am nailing this, Stacy.” You laughed, leaning against her shoulder. “Practically had the boy swooning.”

“Yeah, he’ll be asking you out any day now.” She rubbed your back sympathetically. 

“I can’t believe he heard me. He totally thought I was being serious.” Your giggles finally subsided and you looked up at her. 

“It would be very easy to clear this up, if you’d just talk to him.” She said. 

“I don’t like it when you’re rational, you know.” you replied and glanced at him again. Eddie was no longer looking at you and was just fiddling with his rings as he watched boredly as Principal Higgens was giving announcements. 

You had to apologize. The last thing you wanted was for Eddie to think that you were really like that. You didn’t buy into the bullshit that some dice and graph paper could damn your soul to hell. 

“Fuck it, I’m going in.” you said, and turned to head towards Eddie. 

“Go get ‘em, Tiger!” 

You made your way to the edge of the bleachers, and three things happened in quick succession. First, Miles Cooper got overly enthusiastic as you passed by him, and his elbow made a quick and sharp connection to your stomach, knocking the wind out of you. The second thing that happened was a stray backpack got kicked right in front of you as you staggered from the shock of being elbowed. The third and final thing was you falling down the two benches of bleachers that separated you and Eddie. 

“You can either go to the pep rally and act like you are a part of this school, or you can have detention, Mr. Munson. The choice is yours.” 

Normally, no one gave a shit if Eddie skipped out on something like a pep rally. That time was better spent either reading in an empty classroom or as a smoke break in the parking lot. He had just made it out to the parking lot before he was spotted and given the option. Eddie had been good about not skipping class this year, but he really didn’t want to give Higgins another reason to threaten to withhold his diploma. 

So there he was, leaning against the railing of the furthest bleachers so that the second the pep rally ended, he could just book it back to the van and leave to.. Somewhere. Uncle Wayne had work, and Eddie didn’t have a shift at the Hideout. There was no Hellfire today. 

Eddie was feeling restless as he fidgeted with his rings. Today had already been annoying and he really just wanted to sneak out to his van and have a smoke. It’s not like anyone here would miss him, they’d probably celebrate his departure more than the entrance to the basketball team. 

He looked down at his hands, taking his rings off and rearranging them on his fingers. He tapped them on the railing, listening to the sounds they made as he counted the seconds for this whole thing to be over. 

As his mind started to wander off, a voice snapped him back to the hell he was currently in. “-join a cult and sacrifice me to the dark forces.” 

It was always obvious when someone was talking about Eddie. Normally he’d let it go and ignore whoever it was, but he wasn’t exactly in the best of moods today. His head whipped around, looking for whoever was talking about him. 

There you were with Stacy, again. Eddie wished he could be surprised, but he wasn’t. His eyes narrowed as he looked you over. You weren’t dressed in anything that screamed “school spirit” except for a scrunchie around your wrist. 

He saw how you cringed at the sight of him, which only pissed him off more. What was your fucking problem? You were friends with Stacy, who had been on the cheer squad before her ankle gave out, the skaters liked, you liked everyone. Everyone who wasn’t Eddie Munson. 

Eddie had wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt, that maybe the two of you just hadn’t crossed paths enough. Maybe it wasn’t personal. But now, after hearing you say that you also thought he was some sort of demon worshiping freak he was fine to write you off as just another Hawkins student. Maybe then he could finally move past this weird feeling he had whenever you gave him the stink eye. 

Stacy started giggling next to you, and Eddie just rolled his eyes and turned away. It wasn’t worth it to start anything now at the pep rally. He was already on thin ice after being caught trying to skip. The sooner this was over the better. 

His attention drifted as Higgins droned on and on about school spirit and upcoming fundraisers and games. It was all background noise. In his mind, Eddie was working out the next dungeon that Hellfire was going to take on. His party was getting too used to his usual tricks, so he’d have to pull out something new to really throw them off-

There was a choked off gasp. 

Then a curse. 

Then a horrible cracking sound as something fell next to him.

“Jesus-!” Eddie jumped nearly a foot in the air as you hit the bleacher next to him. His eye nearly bugged out as he saw you sprawled next to him, clutching your stomach and gasping for air like a fish. 

Everyone in the section was still as they all stared at you, before a few started to snicker. Stacy was quick to jump down with far more grace and land by your side. Eddie was completely frozen, unsure of what to do until he heard Miles Cooper say- 

“It was Munson! He did it!”

Eddie’s head snapped to Miles, about to say something before a teacher sharply demanded the Eddie get off the bleachers and come down for what was sure to be a one-sided lecture and detention for something he didn’t do. 

He didn’t fight it, he was about to argue and cause a scene right now in the bleachers. Not when that teacher had a fire in her eyes that said she was just itching for trouble. Fine, he wanted to be as far away from this as possible. 

Eddie walked down the bleachers and followed the teacher out into the hallway. He was already tuning out the lecture about watching your body and not hitting girls. This was such bullshit, and he knew he couldn’t even fight back and defend himself. 

“Look, I didn’t touch her!” Eddie couldn’t stop the frustration in his voice. “She was behind me when she fell!”

“Witnesses say otherwise.” The teacher crossed her arms. 

“Look, just because that dumbass said it was true-” 

There was a loud CLANK as the heavy doors to the gym burst open and to Eddie’s surprise, you were rushing through the door, holding onto your arm. 

You made a beeline for him and the teacher and Eddie could already see it now. Your fake tears as you cried about how the freak shoved you down for no reason-

“Didn’t... do it.” you were shaking your head and panting hard. With your free hand you were pointing at Eddie. “He didn’t... he didn’t do anything... Miles elbowed me. Then I tripped. Eddie never.... Touched me.” 

Stacy was behind you and grabbed your shoulders, trying to hold you in place. “Eddie didn’t do anything, Mrs. Jane.” she explained. “She was just trying to go get some water and ate shit. Eddie had nothing to do with it.”

You nodded, still panting hard as if trying to catch your breath. Stacy was rubbing your back, and you looked like you were on the verge of tears. 

Eddie felt like he had just stepped into an alternate timeline. You were actually defending him? You were in that much pain but had still come running to claim his innocence? 

Mrs. Jane looked at you with concern. “Eddie, you may go back to the pep rally.” She dismissed him without so much as an apology for chewing him out. 

Fuck this. Eddie didn’t need to be told twice. He made his way back towards the gym, but slipped into a side hall. The pep rally was going to be over soon anyway, he might as well beat traffic. 

He paused just as he was out of sight. Fine, he was a little nosey and mildly concerned as you had just come to his rescue. 

“I... I think I hurt my arm.” you said, and he could hear the real pain in your voice. 

“I’ll take her to the nurse.” Stacy said. 

Eddie heard the sound of footsteps, and quickly slipped out of the school before Mrs. Jane caught him escaping. 

Yeah, he was going to need something stronger than a cigarette after this. 

I really didn't think the original blurb would get much attention lol

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[rainydayathogwarts]

omg james trying to get remus and reader to be together and setting them up would be hilarious

Part of my potter!reader x remus secret relationship au 0.7k wc

The last thing Remus had been expecting when he was reading his book in the common room were those specific words tumbling out of James's mouth. "I think she's an absolutely lovely person." He had replied to James's inquiry, trying not to be suspicious. After what Sirius had told him about James speculating between him and James's precious sister, he had learned not to trot so close to the edge. Now, instead of sneaking off with you when everyone was free, stealing kisses from each other in a hidden corner of the library, you resorted to be more daring when James had quidditch practice, attention stowed away to his beloved sport. If anything, you and Remus did share a free period no one else had, locking yourselves in a dorm for the hour.

The only thing Sirius had forgotten to mention was that Lily had convinced James that whilst you and Remus weren't dating, it would be an amazing idea to set up his most respectful friend with his sister. So that's exactly what the teenager was up to. "Lovely enough to go on a date with?" Remus froze, feeling the energy in the room drop. Unfortunately for him, he missed the most crucial part of James's sentence: his suggestive tone. "Well, I mean, I suppose - well what do you mean by that?"

"Remus, there's no one I trust more at Hogwarts to be dating my sister. So I was wondering if you'd like to go out with her." All the blood that had drained from Remus's face moments before suddenly came rushing back, feeling his face flush too quickly for his liking. "Oh, well I suppose I would." Remus sighed at James's happy hum, turning subtly to look at Sirius, sitting on a lonely armchair, a wide grin on his face. The boy raised his eyebrows twice at Remus suggestively, who only now realised that he'd probably known about this the entire time. Remus picked his book up again, beginning to scroll through the pages to find where he'd left off, thinking he had to tell you about this conversation later.

A slump in the couch next to him had him abandoning his book once more, looking up to see you sitting next to him. "Hey y/n!" James started up again cheerfully, unusually ignoring Lily as she walked by to speak to Sirius. "By any chance are you free this Saturday?" You hummed thoughtfully, eyebrows furrowing slightly. "That depends on if anyone wants to go to Hogsmeade with me since Lily wasn't up for it." Remus almost saw the lightbulb appear above James's head, a sentence line forming in his mouth. "Oh Remus would love to come with you! Wouldn't he?"

If you were confused before, you definitely are now, turning towards your boyfriend with a "Huh?" Behind him, Sirius began giggling, poking at Lily's side to avert her attention to you. "What's this about?" You questioned, watching as a small smile made its way onto Remus's face. "I think your brother's trying to set us up." He said confidently, biting his lip to hold in his laugh. "Oh! Well, you know what, I'd love for you to come with me then." Shit. Your lack of hesitation had most definitely given you away now, you thought. The lot of you went silent, and you turned around to catch your brother's facial expression just as he said "Lily said I wasn't missing anything before but I'm not so sure about that now."

You winced at the tone, eyes on James as he stood up, sassily putting his hands on his hips. "James the truth is..." Remus started, glancing between the two Potters, "I already asked y/n out like two days ago. And she already said yes." James's eyebrows shot up in shock, a small "Oh" escaping his lips, arms falling slack on either side of his body. "Oh that's fine then." You slumped back into the couch in relief, the lie luckily escaping James's realm of realisation, one of your hands snaking between your and Remus's body to hold his hand.

"Wait you were going to tell me though right?"

[colourstreakgryffin]

I had a silly idea, what about an Cheshire Cat!reader x Alastor? (Feel free not to do this dearie ( ·∀·) )

Haha. OMFG. A Cheshire Cat would really match with Alastor well! So, thank you, Lady Beelzebub! I’ll try this out!

Alastor- A Little Game

Vaggie has been so frustrated. Charlie has been trying to ease the crew. Husk is on the verge of murdering somebody. Niffty is annoyed that her cleaning equipment is gone. Angel is quite amused by what’s going on and Alastor is very invested in the cause

Lately, the Hazbin Hotel has been dealing with a suddenly appearing invisible menace causing pranks after pranks nonstop; locking or trapping up doors, stealing items and storing them high up, whispering out in the halls at night

Alastor didn’t suspect he’d ever run into the culprit of all this trouble but he has. After Charlie had been giving Vaggie a calmdown pep talk, the Princess politely asked Alastor to check around the hallways for any more prank remnants, the Overlord did so, just to see what he may find… and he made a incredible discovery

A floating cat-like sinner with magenta and pink colouring, most importantly, a big Cheshire wide grin. A rival of Alastor’s own smile and with almost half a body, as if cut in half

The sinner was in the midst of setting up a trap consisting a big silver bucket full of thick blood over the top of Alastor’s own hotel room door, but they’ve been caught in the act

And Alastor doesn’t plan on dealing out punishment… he’s too amused

“Ah… you must be the little troublesome beast causing so much disrupt in this Hotel?” Alastor asks almost immediately with literally no malice towards what’s been going on, his transatlantic accent smooth and almost making his voice sound more friendly and warm than he actually is as this cat sinner… or otherwise, you

Just giggles under your breath and disappears into thin air properly with the wide grin floating in the air for a few seconds almost magically before dissipating with you

“And if I have?” Your voice rings out after a few more seconds of silence, disembodied, invisible. You can’t be tracked with eyes but Alastor’s powerful magic can pinpoint where you are by detecting your own demonic magic, sharply looking over his shoulder to be greeted with your floating head

Just your head… no body, it’s like before when it was half of your torso. Now, it’s just your head. Your magic is a lot like the storybook fairytale character, Cheshire Cat

But that’s because you’re the most Cheshire Cat person anybody will ever met. Alastor couldn’t help but be so amused by you; you’re skilled, you’re snarky, you know what you’re doing and you’re resourceful, good at planning

Able to have avoided being caught by everybody in the Hotel for months now and you’re lucky enough to have been caught by the one member who enjoyed the chaos and madness the pranks caused

“I believe you must avoid the others if so” Alastor proclaims, almost mysterious and still silky in that radio-laced but classy and dapper tone as you tilt your head confused. For the first time, you’ve been snapped out of your mischievous chaotic demeanour

You suspected him to bark, to growl, to be annoyed so him not is so odd to you but quickly brushing it off, you manifest your whole body into frame. Cute fluffy striped cat-like ears flicking and long fluffy cat-like tail curling around, almost like a coil spring

You couldn’t really understand this Overlord, something you don’t like. You’d prefer people to be confused by you, by your style of insanity and madness, by your enjoyment of causing so much disorder and high-tension emotions

You were about to speak, basically floating over his shoulder before Alastor beats you to the punch. You can’t tell if you’ll like him or despise him with the way he speaks, almost condescending

“If you’re going to make my project topsy-turvy, I suggest do a better prank”

[kajibunny]

Can I request Umemiya & Togame x reader where they have an aquarium date? I feel like it would be cute^_^ feel free to ignore, I hope you have a great day :D

🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ aquarium date ˖𓍢ִִ໋🌊˚˖𓍢ִ✧˚ w/ the wind breaker boys

✿ featuring: hajime umemiya, jo togame, ren kaji ✿ contains: established relationship, fluff, unverified facts on sea creatures ✿ a/n: what a lovely idea! ( ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ) actually this has been requested quite some time ago rip!! tho aquarium dates are definitely cute and i feel like there'd be lots of funny moments! i hope you don't mind but i added kaji in too, cutie~ thank you for your patience!! ✿ wc: 1.1k

ʚɞ umemiya -

ꕤ the aquarium tickets were a heartfelt gift from a generous townsperson who thought that you and umemiya were the cutest couple. he always talked about you, and shared how he was so lucky to have someone so kind, caring, sweet, and beautiful. the complete package, really. as soon as he had a free day without any scheduled patrols or activities, umemiya eagerly invited you to join him on a date at the aquarium.

ꕤ umemiya got selected as a volunteer for the sea lion show, due to his sparkly-eyed enthusiasm. he was being so cute and silly as he blew flying kisses to you while helping perform tricks and interacting with the sea lion, then when asked if he was here with someone today and if he'd like to give a shoutout, he proudly points at you and proclaims "that's the love of my life right there!" the crowd around you couldn't help but gush at his romantic declaration.

ꕤ as you and umemiya walk into the serene, dimly lit fish aquarium, he notices how the soft blue illumination of the tanks cast an ethereal glow on your face, and umemiya couldn't resist stealing a kiss from you, catching you by surprise from his spontaneous smooch.

ꕤ under the shimmering light of the fish tanks, umemiya pulls you close, whispering to you: "today has been the most amazing day and i'm glad i got to spend it with you." his voice filled with sincerity, as you two walk out of the aquarium hand in hand. "also, did you know my love for you is deeper than the ocean, my sea anemone?" he adds, as you giggle at his chosen pet name.

ꕤ he surprises you with a coral keychain from the gift shop, because he says it reminds him of you. corals bring life to the ocean, and you know how umemiya loves his plants, which provides the oxygen that we breathe, so he says you are like a coral that breathes life into him. (how cute is that!)

ʚɞ togame -

ꕤ togame actually went and bought the aquarium tickets for both of you, because he remembered how much of a marine life advocate you were, to the point that you detested plastic straws because of their detrimental effects on the turtles. he thought it was cool how every ticket bought contributed to help save the sea turtles, and at the same time, you two could also get a fun date out of it.

ꕤ he actually stops and reads the facts about the sea creatures and he tells you about the ones that he finds interesting, but he ends up unintentionally getting real smooth with it and tries to woo you (even if you two are already together).

ꕤ "did you know sea otters hold hands or grab onto each other while sleeping so they won't drift apart? maybe we should try that next time too." togame says as he grasps your hand in his, demonstrating his recently learned fact.

ꕤ by the time you two got to his favorite part, the turtles (it's your favorite too, since it reminds you of him), he would look at the sea turtles with you with so much affection.

ꕤ you point at the mating turtles and giggle, tugging on togame's shishitoren jacket and telling him to look at it. he chuckles and says: "us when we get home later." half jokingly.

ꕤ you two also attended an environmental awareness talk hosted by the aquarium on sea turtles, as togame wraps an arm around you, but his attention seems to be immersed in the talk, while your eyes were fixated on him, feeling a sense of wonder not just for the turtles, but also for togame, who was nodding and listening intently, and it reminded you of how much of a good listener he is to you too.

ꕤ you and togame get matching turtle keychains from the gift shop as a souvenir of your aquarium date. the keychains were the magnetic type, so they click together whenever you two are near each other, accentuating the fact that you two are each other's other half and are very, very attracted to one another.

ʚɞ kaji -

ꕤ kaji (sort of) won the aquarium tickets at the tonpu shopping district raffle, and he was extremely baffled because he doesn't even recall signing up for anything, but it turns out that kusumi and enomoto frantically entered his name daily, as soon as they overheard you mentioning to kaji that you wanted to go to the aquarium with him someday.

ꕤ you excitedly pulled kaji to go watch the dolphin show together, oblivious to the faded "splash zone" sign on your seat, resulting to getting quite a bit drenched despite his attempts to shield you with his arm. kaji blushed furiously and tried his best to look away when he realized he could see a glimpse of your undergarments through your top.

ꕤ he quickly pulled his hoodie over his head and handed it to you, telling you to put it on. with kaji only in a shirt in the chilly aquarium, you insisted he wait outside while you ventured into the gift shop. you returned a minute later to gift him a hoodie that you bought, adorned with cute baby dolphins and the words "i love dolphins" on it, proudly gifting it to him.

ꕤ he said "no way in hell am i wearing that." but he couldn't resist the sad look in your eyes as you pleaded with him: "please? for me, ren?" and that was all it took. for some reason, kaji just can't say no to you. you held too much power over him. he huffed and muttered a "fine", grumbling while reluctantly putting on the dolphin hoodie.

ꕤ you tried to take a picture of him wearing it, but he grabbed your hand and held it to drag you off to the other sea creature exhibits.

ꕤ upon reaching the shark tanks, you playfully nudge kaji to get his attention. "that looks like you whenever you're angry, ren!" you exclaim as you point at a shark gnawing at its food. "is this your way of telling me that you want me to bite you?" kaji looked at you like he was a predator and you were his prey. you blushed as he blamed you for starting it in the first place. kaji also blushed furiously as he realized the implications of what he just said.

ꕤ as you walk home together, kaji shoves a lollipop into your hands, but not just any lollipop - a shark shaped one, and says he just got it for you as thanks for the hoodie. but deep inside, you knew that kaji got it for you because he wanted you to think of him (and maybe of him biting you).

© kajibunny 2024 / all rights reserved

[jobean12-blog]

Falling for the Forbidden

Pairing: Marcus Acacius x female!princess reader (Pedro Pascal Gladiator II)

Word Count: 1,574

Summary: Having to hide your love away is difficult and each day it becomes more so...especially when all eyes are on the General.

Author's Note: I swear I will stop...someday. He's too gorgeous and perfect and with the trailer today I nearly died. This is along the lines of my other two stories I've written for him, A Warrior's Heart and Forbidden. You do not need to read them with this one but they are all the same reader. Thank you all so much for enjoying with me! Much love always! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics Thank you Daisy! 😍

PS If anyone has any ideas they want to throw my way, feel free. Thank you 😘 Also, I'm trying to do my research but if I make any historical mistakes, I apologize.

Warnings: there's always soft sweetness under it all, tension, semi-public sex (although at that time I don't think it mattered much haha) but they are sneaking around!

This gif below is NOT MINE it's from @a7estrellas and I've linked the post! Thank you for gifting us with such beautifulness!

Pedro Pascal Character Masterlist

The streets of Rome are bustling with life. The market vendors’ loud voices ring out over all else and the smell of various wares fills your nostrils. Every time you walk by a stall the merchant shouts at you to buy something, shaking a fresh juicy fruit or something that catches the dying sun and sparkles like a diamond.

With a polite smile you decline and pull your hood higher up over your head, hoping to just slip through the crowd without notice.

Night dances along the horizon, casting long shadows onto the stone streets and filling the sky with pale pink and orange.

You pass by a fruit stand with baskets of sweet apples, red and shiny. Watching the vendor, you wait for a distraction and grab an apple, quickly stuffing it into the wide arm of your cloak.

Without a glance back you disappear into the darkness between the large stone pillars of a nearby building and press your back tightly to the wall. Your breathing stills and you wait.

Long minutes seem to pass in silence and just as you’re about to give up hope a large and strong hand closes around your wrist and yanks you away from the wall and down into the shadows of an alcove.

“Since when does the princess steal?”

His voice is smooth and deep, purring into your ear while he reaches inside your cloak to retrieve the apple.

You pluck it from his fingers and take a small bite, savoring the sweetness with a matching saccharine smile. A small trickle of juice slips from your mouth and down your chin. His dark eyes watch before he presses his lips to your skin and gently sucks the juice clean.

The apple drops from your hand and rolls further into the darkness, the sun nearly kissing the horizon and hiding you both away in the shadows.

His lips move to your ear and lightly graze the soft spot just below. You shudder at the contact, grabbing onto his biceps when his mouth continues and ghosts along the column of your neck.

“How many nights has it been?” he asks, running his hands under your toga and pressing his fingers between your legs, “since I last had you.”

Your eyes close and you sway into his embrace.

“Too many.”

Your low moan echoes in the emptiness of the hidden spot and he stops his movements.

“Far too many,” he whispers as he removes his hand and grabs your wrists between his large fingers.

He raises your hands above your head and leans down to capture your lips. You struggle weakly, needing to touch him, but he shakes his head and tightens his hold.

“We cannot do this here,” you gasp as he presses his hardness along your stomach.

His lips move down and across your collarbone and his free hand reaches down to slowly pull apart the fabric that covers your skin. He repeats the action until he reveals your bare breasts, hungrily licking his lips before he closes them around your nipple.

Your knees buckle slightly, and you moan out his name.

“Shhh princess,” he whispers against your skin.

“More Marcus. Please.”

He takes his time, teasing, licking, and sucking until your body is aching then he lifts you so you can wrap your legs around his waist.

Your hands immediately delve into his hair, roughly dragging his mouth down to yours as he presses your bodies together more firmly.

The sounds of a raucous and drunken mob grow louder, and you tense against him. You hold your breath and a long a long stretch of time passes before you meet his eyes.

“Marcus. We should not do this.”

You halfheartedly try to push him away, but he holds his ground.

“I cannot wait another moment,” he growls. “I cannot go another night without you.”

Your eyes hold his gaze, but you don’t answer.

“Please,” he murmurs.

Your fingers stroke his cheek, idly tracing the raised skin of a scar that lines his jaw.

“I can never seem to deny you.”

He lets one of your legs fall gently to the ground and his fingers ghost up your thigh. A low hiss escapes his mouth when he feels how wet you are.

“I do not think you ever want to my love,” he whispers into your neck.

With quick and quiet movements, he frees himself, hiking your leg higher around his waist before he pushes in deep.

Your simultaneous moans are lewd, and you hear the crowd growing closer. It makes him push into you harder.

He kisses you hard and fast then covers your mouth with his hand but keeps his eyes locked on yours as he draws himself all the way out. Your strangled sounds make him smile and he rewards you with a deep thrust.

You’re gasping and your fingers search for something to hold on to, every roll of his hips making your muffled moans louder.

His words are soft against your ear when he whispers, “do you feel how perfectly you fit around me? Nothing feels better than this.”

Your only answer is a nod of your head and when he moves harder and faster you silently beg for more.

“I want you to remember what you do to me. Tonight, when you’re alone in your chambers…and the next morning when you ache between your legs.”

His words have you teetering on the edge and now the intoxicated group is just on the other side of the wall. He lifts his hand from your mouth and covers it with his lips, swallowing your strained whimpers as your body tenses and tightens all over.

Your hands fall from his curls and grab his broad shoulders, holding tightly when his final thrusts stutter and slow. He spills his warmth inside you, and he opens his eyes, resting his forehead to yours.

The oblivious voices start to fade as they move away, and you catch your breath as the quiet blankets the night once again.

He reaches for your hand and lifts it between your bodies, delicately kissing your palm before turning it over and brushing his lips across your knuckles.

You inhale softly and whisper his name.

“I should like to see you reach the palace safely.”

Your expression softens even more, and you trace his lips with your fingertips.

“And I should like to have you in my bed every night.”

He squeezes his eyes shut, the gesture laced with pain, and carefully unwinds your leg from his waist and sets you down on unsteady feet.

The next day passes far too slowly, and your mind is constantly occupied by thoughts of last night. You’re jolted out of your reverie by a familiar voice.

“Princess,” General Acacius greets.

Turning, you catch a glimpse of him standing with a group of gladiators fresh from training. His chest is bare, and you follow the line of strong muscle to where a dark trail of hair disappears under his canvas loincloth.

When your eyes-finally- reach his face, your breath catches in your throat at the look in his eyes.

Then those eyes rake over every inch of you and even though you’re completely covered in your royal attire, you feel completely naked. His expression is as intense as his touch and you wonder, if he continues to stare in such a way, will your skin ignite?

You try to fix your face into something that camouflages that you’re mentally cataloging the way his chest heaves with his quickened breaths, the way his hands fist at his sides and cause the muscles in his forearms to flex and strain, and the way his neck and shoulders are tense as beads of sweat drip down his glistening skin.  

His tongue darts out to trace his lips and he quietly dismisses the others with a growled command. They walk off silently but not before throwing their covetous eyes your way.

The General draws his sword.

“I would not have you look at the princess in such a way…” he says, his voice low and dangerous.

They turn their eyes to him, narrowed and glaring before stomping away with quiet mutterings.

Once they’re out of sight he walks briskly down the hall, waiting in a shadowed recess until you follow.

He grabs you, spinning you out of sight until he has you caged against the cool stone wall. His breath is warm and heavy against your cheek.

“Marcus,” you gasp, fighting to control your own breathing. “Not here. And especially after that…what were you thinking?! It is too dangerous.”

His grip tightens and he bends slightly, kissing your lips softly.

“Then do not tempt me with a look like that again.”

Your hands reach for his shoulders, and you run your fingers across their broad width before tracing his chest and stomach.

“Then you should not tempt me with such…magnificence.”

His scoff is muffled against your skin, and he pulls away to take your face in his hands, softly brushing his thumb across your lips.

“Magnificence…my princess, there is nothing in this world to rival your beauty. You are…stunning.”

His name falls from your parted lips in a whisper, and he kisses you softly, gliding his nose along your cheek until he meets the soft shell of your ear.

“Have you thought of last night?”

You tilt your face and find his lips again. “With every step I take.”

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