#*・ﾟ✧ just don't tell me that this doesn't mean the world

[telanadasvhenan]

thinking more about the psychological aspect of solavellan, and before I start, I'd like to stress that this is NOT CRITICAL of it, I actually think it's what makes part of the dynamic interesting. My word isn't the be all and end all, however, this is just my musings on the topic :] Also, REALLY long post! so, more under the read more lol

From Lavellan's point of view, I would personally struggle to see her trusting another lover or close one again for a long time, if ever again. I don't really think people ever talk about the real impact of the things she goes through, or what solas put her through, and the hurt as a result of it. The relationship is never defined between the two of them, it's always spoken about in vague undetermined words from their companions and poetic elvish between the two of them. Are they lovers? companions? partners? it's really up to the player. Leliana says that "you were close", Sera says Lavellan is "in it." Vhenan means home, heart, it's not a word said lightly imo and he tells you he loves her by their second kiss. It's never an official thing, so how secure can Lavellan truly feel?

This could go both ways when it comes to the break up. Crestwood, as a scene, is so interesting to me because the first portion seems like a man brought to his knees by weakness for the woman he loves. The two of them never cease to touch, fingers entwined, shoulders brushing, skin to skin. It's so reminiscent of how Lavellan matches his Hallelujah cadence. They're two parts of a song singing together. It's a gorgeous scene and it's understandable how so many are angry at how it ends because the whiplash between how it starts and what it leaves you with is severe. Imagine this from lavellan's shoes.

You're desperately in love with someone at odds with your people, who is wonderful and enticing and smart. Loving solas feels like loving the whole world, like being free and connected with the stars. But you don't know what this is. And, if you thought you did, how far can you presume? Is Lavellan always on edge, scared to love him deeper and richer than he loves her? or is she in a false sense of security, assuming his affection is forever hers. So when he not only breaks away your faith and trust in your history, plus potentially the vallaslin, she is clearly deeply upset. This isn't a minor fact that simply can be swept aside. The vallaslin is important. And Solas, even with the best intentions, has hurt her. He knows it and there's a reason why he apologises (bc he wimped out on the real truth). How much more does he know about her people that he has refused to tell her or kept from her by omission? Can you imagine the embarrassment, the utter humiliation of that secret? how many memories of them together where she replays his distaste for her people in her mind, knowing that he has access to knowledge that could change her perception of her past? Its ALOT. and thats even before the breakup.

Solas is not kind about the break up. It's rushed (impulsive to me) and doesn't do their connection justice. His composure cracks in places and it's very unlike him. It absolutely blindsides the player, so imagine being in Lavellan's place, AFTER THE VALLASLIN? personally, I wouldn't have been able to function. I half suspect that a sad, calm Lavellan is also in shock or disassociation. Because how else do you cope? The lack of communication between them alone is enough to raise my eyebrows. He promises answers. He confides that she saw through his mask and doesn't tell her what was real, and what was fake. He has given her a kernel truth whilst keeping her in the dark. Everything he told her could be a false, imaginary polite mask or it could be the truth. Where does it end? Where does he begin? Where does she stand?

I don't know if everyone has experienced what it's like to be ghosted or for a friend to simply disappear one day, but it changes you. I say this as someone who has both been avoidant as well as anxious, but you never recover. Someone disappearing like that makes you doubt any reassurance that people won't just evaporate from your life. So when Solas just disappears, the game's single conversation with Leliana feels a little lacking to me. I understand that they can't really dedicate a lot to it, I get that, so I'd like to fill it in. At first, it's search parties. Solas wouldn't just leave her like that. He promised her answers. He started another mural just before they left for corypheus. He didn't intend to just leave, surely.

Days, weeks and months pass. The question is worse than the truth. Is he dead? Did he use them? Was he being truthful when he spoke to her in those ruins, or another polite mask he could hide behind? Is it better if he's dead or better than he didn't deem her worthy enough to even say goodbye? We, as the players, obviously know this isn't true, but she doesn't know that. Does your lavellan assume the worst and be overcome with grief that her one love, her heart, her home, was nothing more than a lie of omission? or is there anger there at his betrayal of her trust once more? I seriously doubt it was easy to forget or dismiss. That kind of disappearance ruins your trust with people. Something. Anything would have been enough.

Again, this is all my opinion on how these emotions would play out and DEFINITELY NOT canon nor do they have to be! But I seriously struggle to see how Lavellan could even come to heal from these wounds within even a two year time skip. By the time of trespasser, almost everyone has left her side. She's almost entirely alone again, save Cullen and Josie (and leliana if she's not divine). And thats okay: they all have rich lives to return to. But that must just reaffirm to her that no one will stay. She is alone. How does she trust again?

And then there is Fen'harel. Lavellan's reaction to fen'harel has always lacked the fear I kind of hoped would be there? I mean this isn't just a minor deity, this IS THE antagonist of her entire faith. I'm assuming that she's lost hope in the gods, even though it's confirmed to her that they're real, but that message has been a part of her since childhood. So learning that he is the dreadwolf, again not from him, but from the fragments of his past must cut her deeply.

Her love was never who he said he was, she knows this, but who is the real man? She's never known him in a context where he can truly show her. Her love is fragmented between each identity he holds. Her trust that he is who he said he is fragments with it. The knowledge that not only has he been watching the inquisition, her, for years without a single hint that he lives or is okay must destroy her. Could you imagine how insignificant you must feel to him? And he essentially affirms to her that yes, in the greater scheme of things, his love and hers are inconsequential. They cannot matter to him because he cannot strive from his path. His indulgence was a mistake. And it's undeniably cruel. I love solas and I cannot argue that he was kind to Lavellan because he wasn't. To me, there is no way to see his actions as kind. Understandable, absolutely and definitely without malicious intent.

Lavellan learns that he loved her just as deeply, if not more. He loved her with all his heart and it did not matter. She changed him and it has only brought him more pain. He loves her too much to even allow her near him, to even give himself that weakness. They are apart from each other in an endless distance, only the two of them in the world. No one else.

Obviously, each Lavellan is different, and I've made a lot of assumptions, but I think it's worth considering. How do you love someone again after all of that? How much can you rebuild your faith after what you have learnt. Lavellan has loved a "god" (I know he's not a god, but for all intents and purposes, he has the power of a god and wears an evanuris crown.) and in turn, a god has loved her. And he left her with one last embrace that will leave its mark on her forever, then he leaves once more. Lavellan is alone.

Each love after is met with suspicion, distrust and comparison. Lavellan is entirely changed. How many pieces of her can be taken away until she is no longer herself? Each person wears a new mask she cannot determine. Where do they begin? Where can she find herself?

How lonely it must be to love someone like Solas and be at the other side of an endless distance.

[the-modern-typewriter]

wgshdwgd im sorry if youre not accepting snippet reqs </333

but could i req you write abt a villain who *everyone* is genuinely terrified of. and then the hero just politely tells them to shut the fuck up. like, villain could be monologuing or smth and hero would cut them off saying that they would really appreciate it if villain could finish up in the next hour or so because they dont want to miss bargain day at the supermarket.

uwah im sorry if i broke any rules </33 stay safe its a crazy world out there <333

"-Could you please just shut up?"

There was a moment of absolute, horrified silence. One man promptly fainted. Nobody seemed to breathe for a few seconds.

The villain turned, slowly, towards the protagonist.

They were on their knees on the floor, surrounded by armed guards ready to execute the various staff still in their building. Their expression was one of exhausted long-suffering, one hand pinching the bridge of their nose as if to stave off a headache.

"Excuse me?" the villain asked, oh so softly.

"Will you please stop talking?" The protagonist dropped their hand, levelling the villain with a look. "Like, if you're going to slaughter the lot of us, just do it, don't make us listen to the spiel first. It's been forty five minutes."

"Are you so eager to die?"

"No. But if I'm going to die, I think I'd like to get it over with. Otherwise, I'd like to just go about my day. I need to buy food before the shop closes and takeaway costs a fortune. I mean, bloody hell. Forty five minutes. Do you really think anyone here is listening?"

The villain stared.

"Like, not to be rude," the protagonist said. "But they're all scared out their minds. They are not processing the finer points of your monologue. It's just so unnecessary."

"I could cut out your tongue and feed it to you."

"You don't have anything better to do?"

"I could cut out their tongues," the villain swept a hand around the room, "and feed them to you. That sorts out dinner, doesn't it?"

"I mean, I'm vegan, and not a cannibal, but I appreciate you're more concerned with being menacing than actually addressing the issue."

The villain stared some more.

The protagonist stared back.

"The data I need is still downloading," the villain said, after a long moment. "If I let you leave, someone will do something stupid like try and call the police."

"Sure, sure. But the monologue."

"You don't enjoy the sound of my voice?"

"I wouldn't take it too personally. It's been a week. Bit overstimulated, to be honest. Anyone's voice right now feels a bit like a cheese grater on my nerve endings."

"A bit like a cheese grater."

"No offense."

The villain blinked at them, slow and somewhat incredulous. "A cheese grater."

The protagonist shrugged.

"I'm assuming you didn't miss who I am in the last forty five minutes," the villain said.

"No."

"And yet."

"It's not that you're not terrifying," the protagonist said. "I just - forty five minutes. Humans aren't set up to be this stressed for forty minutes. My head is killing me. Processing all this - if you don't kill us - is going to be hard enough without having to fit in all the life admin I'm not currently getting done."

"Come here."

"...what?"

The villain crooked a finger to beckon the protagonist forward.

The protagonist swallowed, eyeing the villain warily, but didn't make them ask again. With a glance at the armed henchmen, they shuffled forwards to the spot the villain had gestured at their feet.

"You know," the villain said, "it's been a very long time since anyone has talked back to me."

"Sorry. I'm really not trying to be rude."

"No," the villain mused, head tilting with something alarmingly like curiosity as the protagonist came to a stop. "You're really not, are you? Turn."

"...turn?"

The villain gestured again, to indicate that the protagonist should face away from them.

"...You can't just give me all the orders at once? I get this is more dramatic, but I probably wouldn't be trying your patience as much if-"

The villain seized the nape of the protagonist's neck, like scruffing a kitten, making their breath catch.

Everyone watched for the inevitable torment. The punishment. The kill.

The villain's fingers dug into the knots of tension in the protagonist's neck, power sparking up the touch.

The protagonist sagged. "Holy shit," they breathed.

"Better?"

"Um. I mean - yes - but -"

"Good." The villain glanced up to the henchmen. "Shoot everyone else."

"What? Wait - no -"

The sound was deafening.

Then the silence was, once again, absolute.

"You didn't have to do that," the protagonist whispered. "I didn't mean - if I offended you -"

"Oh, you didn't, don't worry. That's why you're still alive. Tell me about yourself."

The villain's grip stayed unrelenting on the back of the protagonist's neck, holding them securely in place.

"T-tell-?"

"We still have ten minutes," the villain said, in a tone of great patience, "before the download completes. Tell me about yourself. I shouldn't be the one doing all the talking, after all. It's very rude of me, isn't it?"

Hesitantly, the protagonist talked, watching the blood pool on the floor. What else was there to do?

The computer finally gave a quiet beep to indicate that the download was complete.

"Good. Very good." The villain gave the protagonist's neck another gentle enough squeeze. "Now. Let's go grocery shopping," the villain said cheerfully. "Up you get. Dinner's on me."

[narumi-gens]

heading north gojo satoru x f!reader

minors/ageless/blank blogs dni, pregnancy, major jjk manga spoilers, some angst (angst-adjacent?)

"your students are worried about you."

the heaviness of your words is undercut by your flippant tone. you wonder if satoru is surprised that you're waiting to greet him moments after he's finished slaughtering the higher-ups or if he was expecting you to be nearby.

"they tell you about their plan?" he asks, casually tossing his arm over your shoulders as he begins to lead you away from the carnage.

"you mean the plan for after you die? where yuuta cuts open your skull, takes out your brain, and swaps it for his?" you reply dryly as you wrap your own arm around his waist, instinctively holding him close for warmth as you both exit the dark corridor to be confronted with the early winter chill. you sigh softly and shake your head. "no, shoko did. I think they were too scared of my reaction."

"I don't blame them. those pregnancy hormones are no joke!" he teases, only to immediately hiss in pain when you give his side a harsh pinch. neither of you comment on how it only hurt because he let it.

silence settles over you and part of you thinks that he's going to let the conversation end there. after all, satoru has always been happy to let a serious discussion end prematurely with an annoyingly playful comment.

"you want them to leave my corpse alone?" it's as much a question posed out of curiosity as it is an offer. it's so unexpected that your feet come to a stop on their own.

he turns to face you and you can only look up at him thoughtfully, mulling over what he's asking you.

"no," you finally say with a shrug. "as long as it's disposed of properly after everything's over and done with, I don't care what they do with it. besides, you won't lose so it doesn't matter anyway."

a cheeky grin slowly tugs at the corner of his lips before he drops down to crouch in front of you. he slips his hands – the same hands that just wiped out the higher-ups in one fell swoop – beneath your coat to press a palm on either side of your protruding belly.

"you hear that? your mom's my number one fan!" he says in a stage whisper, speaking directly to your unborn child, his unborn child. you can only roll your eyes as you suppress the urge to flick his forehead.

you can feel his thumb rubbing circles through the fabric of your sweater and as he continues to gaze at your baby bump, something passes over his expression that you can't quite read.

"hm, maybe the jujutsu world won't have to wait another 400 years before there's another limitless user with the six eyes," he muses and your mouth suddenly feels dry.

the statement is weighted by the implication of his death, but it's something you look past to focus instead on what inheriting both the limitless and the six eyes would mean for your child's future.

"you'd curse our child with that?" you manage to finally ask with a small frown, your voice slightly rough.

it's not only the target that would be painted on their back that concerns you, but also the weight and expectations that would be placed on their shoulders from the moment they were born.

"if it meant their safety," he answers, his tone and demeanor both uncharacteristically serious.

you want to argue with him, to tell him that being given such great power would be the thing that puts them at risk. but instead, you ask him something else.

"you'd curse me with that?" there's something fragile in your question and your voice that has him lifting those cursed eyes to look up at you. you both know what you're really asking.

would he trust you to raise his child alone? would he trust you to keep them safe, until they were strong enough to protect themselves? would he curse you with doing what he might be unable to?

"with this?" he raises an eyebrow and glances down at your bump meaningfully. "who else would I curse but you?"

your eyes feel wet and you can only nod, unable to find the right words. instead, you lift your hands and cup his where they're still holding your belly.

despite the chaos and danger hanging over your heads and on the horizon, you take the opportunity to savor this moment – you and satoru together, your future, your legacy, held in your shared embrace.

a small thought comes to you and a faint smile forms on your lips.

"maybe they won't be born with the limitless and they'll get something different. or maybe even nothing at all and they'll have to find their own strength." your words seem to strike something in him because he gently rests his forehead on your bump. "maybe they won't have to be chained down with the burden of being the gojo heir."

he softly snorts, but you know him well enough by this point to tell that he's smiling.

"maybe they can start anew, huh?" he asks, amusement lacing his tone.

he stays where he is for another moment, his head bowed reverently to you and his child, and when he looks back up at you, he immediately takes note of the way your eyes are shining. a wide grin lights up his annoyingly handsome face.

"you cryin'? I told you those pregnancy hormones are wild!"

you're quick to shove his hands off of you and give his shoulders a hard push so that he falls over, relishing the way he cries out. as you begin to walk away from him, you're grateful that with him at your back, he can't see the grin on your lips that matches his perfectly.

[crows-in-the-house]

Some Bill Cipher nsfw 🙏🏻 I want that triangle

Same anon. Same.

I didn't know if you wanted headcannons or a fic so I made general hcs. I will add a part 2 later with him as a human and a triangle

tw: slight gore, and sex over all, nsfw!

At first he would be really bad at anything intimate - too harsh, too sloppy, maybe too fast, too laud or annoying. But with time he will learn. Especiallly with you as his test subject! Not that you will remember that with your memories changed!

also, enjoys making your mind blank, it feels like a tv with static, it's so funny to him he can't stop!

He likes to shove his tangue in your mouth when you don't expect it. He towers over you, exploring the insides and biting on your lips, making saliva drip down from your mouth. Then he steps away and leaves as nothing happened

He's not really into sex, he doesn't get anything from it, but likes to watch you squirm and make funny faces so he can get down to it - at least he gets to mock you.

He likes how fragile humans are, the thought of being able to snap your bones with one wrong move doing your special time makes him going places. Of course, to your dissmay, he will share such informations with you. Wanna know how you could die now? What are the chances for you getting a heart attack? He will let you know!

And don't worry! He won't shut up during the whole thing! Really! He will talk withaut a break, constantly laughing at your attempts of making him stop.

He is into gore so will actively try to harm you. Don't worry tho, he will make your nerves drown in pleasure when he disarreanges your body parts and organs. Will also take a bite out of your heart, lick in between your lungs and try to stick his fingers in your hot throat. Doesn't it feel nice? Maybe he should stick something else in there huh?

He enjoys making your hair messy. You look like a pouting dog every time!

His hands are constantly roaming on your body, if it's not your hand, it's a waist or arm, or maybe the back of your neck. He likes to "whisper" (shaut and threaten) all the things he could do to you if you won't stop talking to all of your friends. After all he wants to you himself. Always.

If you want him to, he can act a little more caring, whatever that means. Of course, you will have to pay him back for that, but why would you care about that now? For once he will be gentle, confessing how good you make him feel, how adorable your emotions are, how cutsy (pathetic) you look to him.

Remember to pay him back later tho, all great actors must have their prize sooner or later!

Also uses your blood as a lube and drinks your saliva lika water

I think he would be a switch - either wanting to annoy you, being all bratty and whiny or trying to embarras you as much as he can, being raugh and mean, ejoying you obeying him.

Call him your god, your muse, your world, your life! Anything stroking his massive ego will get him rilled up. Drown him in compliments, show him your devotion and admiration, maybe he will act a little softer then usually.

Better be careful what you say during sex tho, he will ask milion questions just to get you under his control :

"Want me to stop? Really? Oh it's a shame you can't tell me with that gag in your mouth!"

"aww does my puppet want to cum? yeah? what would you do to get it hm? OH, EVERYTHING? WOULD YOU SHAKE ON THAT?"

"HA I COULD FUCK YOU SO GOOD YOU WON'T BE ABLE TO WALK FOR THE WHOLE WEEK. YOU WANT THAT RIGHT? RIGHT? HA! YOU GREEDY HUMAN, AS YOU WISH KID!"

he's into shaming and degrading his partner but prefers to receive praise, will get mad and raugh if you try to deny giving it

will pull your hair,

and your limbs, he may even rip them of just to put them back in

enjoys your cries, doesn't matter if it's from pain or pleasure

also doesn't understand what "too much" means until he's on the receiving end

not that he doesn't like overstimulation, getting unable to talk and move just because of you stroking him so good shows him how obsessed you really are with him! Please make him tremble and shake, make him beg you to stop, laughing and whining when you ignore him

Will absolutely lie to you and prey on your naivety - of course he can make you not feel the soreness and pain the next day! He's a demon, remember? All tiredness could go away at the snap of his fingers, that's a promise.

(Not a deal tho, so he ignores it the next day. Just to see your tired expressions and body covered in bite marks.)

Over all, he's a very intense experience.

[jinuaei]

Dare

I saw a vid on twitter where the dude came while tattooing his own dick. Couldn't get out of my mind so now I have to write it about Leon because he's my muse. RE2r Leon in my mind but with a lil bit RE4r body. NO OUTBREAK HERE.

I also don't have any experience in tattoos in general so pardon me for getting stuff wrong.

Update: Put the vid in question, unsafe twitter link underneath the fic

Warning: NSFW MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, Multiple orgasms(Leon), tattooing, needles, dacryphilia, UNSAFE LINK BELOW

Word count: 2.2k

Leon S. Kennedy x Tattoo artist! Reader

This was a bad idea.

Leon feels stupid standing outside the studio, he can't believe he's actually going to do a stupid dare that Chris forced him to do. He's going to get his dick tattooed. Thankfully, Chris was gracious enough to give him the freedom to choose his own tattoo.

I'll just get a small one and go.

But once he steps in and is greeted by the tattoo artist, he realizes that maybe he might get a bigger one after all.

You stood there with a smile, the tattoos on your body proudly shown to the world-- and holy fuck it was hot. He stammers a hello and nervously looks around, feeling awkward being in a place that he clearly doesn't belong in. There were a few people inside, 2 customers and another tattooist doing work on one of them, and of course there was you.

Chuckling at him, you guide this bumbling blond to your chair, showing him a catalogue of the designs that you do. He was overwhelmed with the choices so ultimately he just looked at you with his big blue eyes.

"Uh.. could...could you choose one for me? Something that you think would look good on me..."

...

I THOUGHT YOU WERE GOING TO CHOOSE ONE FOR YOURSELF???

He mentally punched the air when your relaxed eyes clashes with his wide ones, berating himself for probably annoying you with his indecision.

I-I mean, I don't really know much about tattoos so it would be a good idea to ask them right? I-it's not because I think they're gorgeous and want their approval or something right?? Yeah..

Expecting irritation crossing your face, he braced himself to get screamed at but instead he was met with giddiness. He relaxes under your eyes, finally keeping his nervousness under control.

"I'd love that! I was meaning to do a design I came up with recently, so if you don't mind I can do that to you?"

He nods eagerly, like a happy puppy getting asked to go on a walk.

"Great! Where do you want to get tattooed so I can modify it based on the area."

Leon's blood runs cold as the nerves came back ten fold. He forgot that he was going to get a tattoo, on his dick.

"...my dick." He tries to tell you but it only comes out as a whisper.

"Pardon?"

"My dick...!"

"Sorry could you repeat tha-"

"My dick!!! I'm gonna get my dick tattooed...!" He finally shouts, panting, exasperated.

The studio is quiet except for the buzzing of the machines, everyone's eyes was on him. He feels his face flush and tried to hide himself, scrunching into a ball, or close to it at least without looking like a pathetic baby in front of you. But being the angel that you are, only laughed and waved those staring at him as if to say 'this is normal'. Your assistant also laughed but directed the costumers attention to himself, explaining how newbies get nervous like that.

The blond unfurls himself, looking at you with sad eyes. You pat his head and he won't lie to himself that he didn't enjoy that.

"Don't worry dude, we don't judge here. Luckily for you, I have experience in that regard, but you don't look like you have any. Fresh meat?"

"Yeah... This is my first time."

"Bold of you to choose a sensitive part of your body. Really brave bud."

A smile creeps onto his face, delighted at being complimented by you. Yet his mind wanders back to your words earlier, you tattooed other peoples dick before? Internally shaking his head, he then asks when they'll start, which you promptly answered with a right now if you're ready, in which he agreed excited to get done by you... The tattoo he means.

You lead him to a different part of the studio, a more private area to be exact, its smaller with only one chair for the client. Due to him being too excitable he forgot how embarrassing it would be for people to see his dick in general. But if it's you... Of course it's fine! You're tattooing him after all, this is professional work, be professional Leon.

He sits on the chair after you instructed him to, you then proceed to tell him to strip his pants and underwear and roll up his shirt. Before he did that though he had to ask something important.

"Does it matter if I'm hard or not...?"

"Nah, it'll still look the same whether it's flaccid or erected."

Nodding shyly he starts to strip off slowly, almost teasing, which embarrasses him further since he imagines himself looking like he's giving you a strip dance. You wait there patiently, head lowered, arms crossed, eyes switching between his pants to his own. Eventually he lowers his pants and underwear to his ankles, shirt blocking his dick, but when he raises his shirt your eyebrows raise when you see how hard he is. Red angry tip, twitching under your scrutiny.

"Do you like it...?"

"Hm. You're bigger than I expected. Great abs too."

That made him more confident, puffing his chest out in response. He laid down on the chair, readying himself with what's going to happen. On the side he can see you prepare a piece of paper with your design on it. Staring at you, he admires the tattoos that litter your whole body, your arms filled with dark ink, one half filled with intricate details of crosses and angels, he can also see some weird sigils, rings with what looks like Latin on it and stars. He can only assume that underneath your clothes there are more than what he is allowed to see.

The young mans imagination is cut of with a jerk of his hips, startled he looks at you wide eyed and scared. He tried to apologize profusely but you only shook your head and explained that you needed to put the stencil on his dick. Luckily he survived the stenciling as it was done faster than he expected, he can't say the same for the actual tattooing part though.

You we're thankfully very patient with him, caressing his thigh before starting, which his body reacted with a jerk that he somewhat kept to a minimum.

The first thing he noticed was the loud buzzing of the machine, the next is the vibration, finally-- the pain. It was bearable, but that was not the horrific part of this situation, no, it was the fact that he was enjoying the constant stabbing, combined with the vibrations it felt so good on his cock. Leon wouldn't say that he's a masochist, but damnit whatever the fuck is happening turns him on so fucking much.

Shaky breaths start to come out of his mouth, it was getting harder to breathe with the constant stimulation and if he focus hard enough he could actually feel your breath on his thigh. God you were so close to his dick.

"O-oh! Oh God...huff... shit. I like it, why the fuck do I like it???" He mumbles to himself, biting his cheek to suppress the moans that's bubbling up from his throat.

He tries so hard to focus on something else, the paperwork left on the station-- the vibrations... Chris' smug face when he told him the dare-- feels so good..! His best friend at home, his good ol' dog-- FUCK!!!

"STOP!! Stop...! Fuck. Ah...sorry, it's just hahh... Feels too good."

He pants harshly, fingers holding on the smooth leather for dear life. He feels humiliated under your stare, tears starting to prick at his eyes, making it hard to decipher the expression on your face but he can feel the heat in your eyes.

Your eyes hungrily take in his body, appreciating his muscles as well as his pudge in certain areas. With such a sensitive man in front of you, you get to see all of his reactions. The way his eyes are tightly closed, eyebrows furrowed, his lashes accentuated by the heavy blush spreading from his face. Every flinch causes his body to flex and it is truly a sight for sore eyes.

However, since this is a professional setting, you as the professional doing your job, and him, the client just getting a tattoo on his weeping cock. The same cock that you have to wipe over and over as it drips pre-cum over your work. You tried your best to hold back, managing to stop yourself from ravaging this delectable hunk in front of you. But it was soooo hard to do so.

God... What a cute little thing he is. Makes me want to eat him up.

You tried to wait patiently for him to calm down, you waited 5 minutes, 10 minutes, 20 minutes for it to stop twitching but it just wouldn't. stop. dripping. Ultimately you gave him a choice, either you stop here and work on it another time or you keep going regardless of how currently sensitive he his.

A whimper came out of his mouth when he sensed you getting more and more impatient with him. Wanting to please you he chose the 2nd option. The faster he's done the better right?

"If you're gonna cum, tell me."

"Wha- Hngggh...!"

The needles start up again and Leon really held himself back, gripping on the leather beneath his fingers. It worked for a moment but the sensation proves too much when his body jerks forward from a particularly more painful-- but delicious, jab of the needle. His hips was then forced down by your hand slamming itself on his pelvis. Your touch almost made him fall off the edge of the cliff but at that exact moment he had a brilliant idea to stop himself from cumming on the spot.

"Hahh...hng! Fuck!! I'm gonna cum! Pleasepleaseplease...!"

And then immediately proceeding to cum all over his chest and your hand that is still pining him down. Even then you were not strong enough to fully hold him down, his hips almost flying from the chair. Tears stream down his face, a mix of humiliation and pleasure dripping to the leather below. As he calms down from his high, he hears shuffling before suddenly, a weight plops down onto his lap. You didn't even warn him before starting again.

"Wait...! I'm still hnggg... I'm still sensitive!" Not knowing if you heard him or not, he tries again but is cut off with a moan.

"Don't move too much because I'm not stopping until it's done."

You're gonna be the death of him.

Finally after so so so so long you were done with his tattoo. Leon is spent, lying there chest covered with his fluids, t-shirt soaked with a mix of tears, drool, and probably semen. He was still twitching, eyes rolled back, overstimulated to hell and back. He doesn't know how much he came, thrice? Four times? Maybe even more than that but God was it amazing. Nothing could prepare him from the tenderness that you exude as you wipe the tears from his cheeks. You leaned in, face hovering over his as you look him in the eye, cooing at how much of a good boy he is for handling everything so well.

"Thank you... hahh hah..."

You hopped off his lap and went to get a mirror for him. He feels a little loopy with the dopamine rushing through his brain but that didn't stop him from thanking you. Blinking sluggishly, his eyes look at the mirror, showing his cock being held by you. Focusing on the design he can tell how much love you put on it.

It starts from just below the head, the whole thing wrapping around his whole dick. It was something akin to an insect, maybe a scorpion with 4 sharp legs, the head of the creature sprouting tentacles. The tail of it was long, twisting around until it stops, the sharpened end on the base, close to his balls. It was honestly really good, the shading makes it look realistic, almost like it will jump at him and bury itself into his skin. He's kind of sad that it's not similar to any of your tattoos. Still, he's happy to have been marked by you.

"Did you bring extra clothes?"

"What?"

"You can't walk around the streets with a cum stained shirt, and you need to wear looser pants so it won't irritate tattoo."

Chris you better fucking pick up.

I should've called Luis instead.

Chris brought him clothes, probably from his own closet and Leon knew when Chris arrived because he could hear his boisterous laughter right outside the private room. SHIT! If I could hear him, people definitely heard me earlier.

After dressing up and doing the walk of shame towards the main studio, he sees Chris and your assistant laughing their guts out. Yeah they definitely heard me, and he's probably telling Chris everything.

You went over to them and smacked the tanned guy upside the head, introducing him as Carlos. Leon strains a smile, regardless of how much he wants to curl up into a ball and die. But Carlos reassures him that it actually happens and how he also cummed from you tattooing his dick, although he was not as loud as him. After that he was informed how to do aftercare for the tattoo and both him and Chris were off to go home.

Sitting on the passengers seat, Leon tuned out Chris' teasing and how 'I can't believe you actually did it!' and 'Imagine cumming while getting a tattoo LMAO'. On his hand is a piece of paper, written inside is your number and a note that read; 'See you when it heals ;)'.

Hey, maybe it wasn't a bad idea after all.

The vid in question:

https://twitter.com/miauaoo/status/1740150245672321112?fbclid=IwAR17lRhs4MBgodCPaPNCDPLYxKSiTYr5xonOdN2QpnHtEZjODEXAN-6TuYs

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Home Is Where The Heart Is.

Synopsis - They say home is where the heart is. Your heart belongs to four guys you call your best friends. Also known as - four important times the boys told you they loved you.

Pairing - Frankie Morales, Will Miller, Santiago Garcia, Benny Miller x Female Reader.

Warnings - smut. cursing. alcohol consumption.

Age Rating - 18+

Word Count - 5k

Author's Note - is it weird that I have sort of compared each boy to a room in the house? maybe! but we're rolling with it, because it worked in my head. this is the first of a few fics like this, much like Tethered, Time and Tranquility - I have a few different TF boy comparison ideas. love these babies so much. <3

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback!!) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3

Masterlist. Inbox.

You follow the laughter floating down the hallway into your backyard. Standing against the doorframe, you watch as the boys double over in amusement while Benny reenacts the time Frankie fell in your pool. Their faces are illuminated by the golden glow of the fairy lights adorning your deck, moonlight shining down.

"And none of you helped me! Hermosa had to come and rescue me! At least I know who loves me the most," Frankie chuckles, tilting back in his chair to catch your eyes.

You make your way over and kiss him on the cheek, standing behind him and wrapping your arms around his neck.

"I don't think there was ever any debating that. You've always been my favourite," you coo, ruffling his hair gently.

"Give us a break," Benny teases. "We all know I'm your favourite, sweetheart."

Santiago scoffs and jabs Ben in the ribs, yelping when the younger man elbows him in retaliation.

"Cariño, put them out of their misery. Tell them I'm your favourite."

You catch eyes with Will, who's grinning at you across the table. He doesn't even have to say anything. He raises his eyebrows and winks at you, tongue pressed to the inside of his cheek. You can't help but smile back.

"I mean, Will is currently very high on the list, because he built this table for me today."

Everyone groans as you and Will laugh, knocking on the table to check his handiwork.

"You did a good job," Frankie praises, kicking at a leg to see if it holds.

"I built your couch!"

"You can't build a couch, Ben."

"He did! It needed assembling!"

Benny blows you a kiss, thanking you for the assist.

"I did most of the painting," Santiago chimes in.

"Until your weak ass knees gave in," Frankie laughs.

Santi shoots daggers at him, both of them chuckling.

"Me and Hermosa tiled her bathroom. That took fucking forever."

"Frankie, I told you that I'd call a guy for that, and you told me you were the guy."

"You can't tell me those tiles aren't gorgeous."

You shrug, squeezing him tight.

"You're right. They are. I admire them everytime I shower."

"Ooo, tell us more," Benny teases, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

"Pervert," you and Will say in unison, both shaking your heads.

You settle into the chair next to Frankie, popping the cap off your beer.

"I honestly don't think I'd have any furniture without you guys. This house wouldn't be a home if it wasn't for you."

All of their attention is on you, focusing as if you're the only girl in the world. You feel like it sometimes, when you're all together.

"I can't believe you've been moved in for an entire year," Santi muses. "Feels like only yesterday we were helping you unpack all those boxes."

"Time flies when you're having fun," you beam at him.

As the evening settles and the sun begins its descent, you start to think about just how many parts of the boys live in your house. The furniture, the paint, the lights. At least one of them helped you with basically every single element. You think of all the memories filled with happiness and laughter that have happened here over the last year, and your eyes well with tears. You meant what you said, earlier. Your house wouldn't be a home without them.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The Living Room. Benny.

You're tangled with Ben on your newly assembled couch, a cheesy romcom acting as background noise. We have to test it out, he'd said. Just in case.

So here you are, nestled into his side, strong arm slung over your shoulder to pull you closer. You sip your drink, paying virtually no mind to the movie. You're making a mental list of all of the things you still need to do for the house - tile the bathroom, buy a lawnmower, paint literally every room. But the couch is a start.

"I can hear the cogs turning in that brain of yours," he laughs, pinching your side. "We're supposed to be relaxing. You know, really getting a feel for the couch."

"Right, right. Sorry," you chuckle, nudging him with your shoulder in retaliation. "Just thinking about all of the shit I've gotta do."

"Hey, we've got plenty of time. And you've got four guys ready to do whatever needs to be done. There's no rush."

Exhaling loudly, you realise he's right. There is no rush. Yes, you may have a never ending list of things you need to get done, but there's no time limit. You can take each job as it comes.

You turn your attention back to the movie, discovering that it's actually half decent. By the time you're an hour into it, you and Benny are laughing along. It's a sweet coming of age story, two teenagers falling in love for the first time.

You watch as the two characters share a kiss, all clumsy hands and unsure touches. You smile, and start to think.

"This bringing back memories, Ben?" you tease.

"Oh yeah. First time I ever made out with a girl, I couldn't get her bra undone. I was trying to give her a hickey at the same time, and I snapped the clasp against her so hard I made her bleed. Safe to say, we didn't make out again."

Both of you are crying with laughter, vibrating the couch with it.

"I can see the image so clearly. Teenage Ben with his frosted tips and his puka shell necklace. Bet you broke some hearts, huh?"

"Shut up," he chuckles. "I got tonnes of girls back then."

"I'm sure you did," you joke, pinching his cheeks.

He pinches your thigh and pulls you closer, settling back into the cushions.

"You know, I've never had one," you say after a while.

"Had what?"

"A hickey."

Ben pulls away and turns to face you, looking at you incredulously.

"Seriously?"

"Yeah. Never got one as a teenager. Now I'm a grown ass adult, I always warn my partners not to leave marks. Guess I just missed out on the whole hickey thing."

Ben smiles at you, mischief rife in his eyes.

"You want one?"

You quirk your brow and turn your body towards him, putting some distance between you to look at him properly.

"What game are you playing, Benny Miller?"

He laughs, and the sound makes you smile so wide it's blinding.

"No games, baby."

"No?"

"I believe getting a hickey as a teenager and having to figure out how to cover it up in embarrassment is a rite of passage. And I'm weirdly sad you missed out on it. So, I'm offering to give you that experience."

"Out of the goodness of your heart?"

"Exactly. Because I am a kind, selfless, giving guy."

You pause for a moment, watching his face carefully.

"Okay."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," you laugh. "Show me what you've got, makeout king."

He chuckles at the nickname, but grabs your thighs to pull you closer. Benny plants a knee between your legs and leans over you, using a strong hand to hold onto your jaw. You tilt your head to the side, and brace yourself for his lips.

Instead, he takes his time. He noses up your neck, and then traces the path with the tip of his tongue. He blows onto your heated skin, making you shiver. Humming at your reaction, he leans in again, and connects his lips to the spot underneath your ear, kissing it softly.

"Benny," you breathe. "Don't tease."

"Whatever you want, baby."

Benny picks a spot on the side of your neck and sucks. When he's satisfied, he grazes his teeth over the mark, and uses his tongue to soothe the sting. Your eyes roll back, and you cant your hips into his knee between your legs.

You both lose yourself in the moment, chests heaving and breath panting. You separate yourselves to look at one another for a moment, neither of you breaking the gaze.

Suddenly, you burst into a fit of laughter, unable to stop it escaping. Within seconds, Benny joins you. Before you know it, you're both crying tears of joy, sides hurting and abs aching.

"Oh shit," you choke out between giggles. "How the fuck am I gonna cover this up?"

"That's half the fun, baby!"

"I hate you," you chuckle, smacking his side. "You're the worst."

"I love you too," he grins. "You're the best."

And when the rest of the guys ask what happened the next day, you and Benny discover that you make good improv partners. No one questions your elaborate story involving the couch and a runaway screwdriver. Benny winks at you cheekily, and you can't help but smile.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The Bathroom. Frankie.

Repeated knocking at your front door breaks you out of your reality TV induced haze. You check your phone for the time. 8:34pm.

You swing it open to be met with the sight of Francisco Morales. He has Ava perched on his hip, fluffy pink backpack held in his other hand.

"Hey, you guys. You okay?"

"Hermosa, I'm so sorry for just dropping in with no warning. I have a favour to ask."

"Anything."

"Can I bathe Ava here? We're having some sort of plumbing emergency in our bathroom, and we can't get a guy out until tomorrow. I want her to have clean hair for when I take her back to her Mom's."

You wink at Ava, who sticks her tongue out at you cheekily. You mimic her and smile, glancing back to her Dad, who looks like the weight of the world is resting on his shoulders.

"Of course you can," you assure, reaching over to grab Ava from Frankie's arms. "Come on, baby girl. Let's get you clean!"

Frankie exhales a sigh of relief, and follows the two of you upstairs, locking the door behind him.

"Frank, did you bring shampoo and stuff, or shall we just use mine?"

He unzips the backpack and pulls out a couple of bottles.

"I have shampoo, and conditioner, but no body wash or anything."

You root around in your cabinet, finding a bottle with a label that contains words like sensitive and hypoallergenic.

"Vanilla and chamomile. Is that satisfactory for you, my princess?" you tease, grinning when Ava beams at you at the nickname.

You turn the water on and start to run the bath, trying to ignore the way you can feel Frankie's eyes on you as you bend over the tub.

"Bubbles, or no bubbles?" you ask, already knowing the answer. "Right. Stupid question."

"These tiles are hideous," Frankie says from behind you.

"Thank you, Frank. Appreciate it," you tease. "I'm gonna call a guy about getting it all retiled."

"What?"

"What?"

"Don't call a guy!"

"Why not?"

"I'll do it."

You look at him in confusion, before realising he's very serious.

"Do you... know how?"

"Hermosa, it's not rocket science. We can figure it out together."

You deliberate for a moment, looking at him carefully.

"Okay. As long as you don't mind?"

"Of course I don't."

You smile at him before leaving and disappearing downstairs for a minute, trusting Frankie to watch the water.

"Where did you go?" he asks on your return.

"I just put a towel in the dryer, so it's warm when she gets out of the tub."

Frankie steps over to you and cradles your face in his hands, leaning forward to press a kiss to your forehead. He's always been good at that - saying so much without saying a word.

"Princesa, you need help?" you ask, laughing as she struggles, head stuck in her shirt.

Soon enough, Ava's sat happily in all the bubbles, splashing around in the warm water. You and Frankie sit on the floor next to the tub, legs tangled and bodies pressed together. You lean in and rest your head on his shoulder as he throws an arm around you.

"Thank you for this. Seriously. I don't know what we'd do without you."

"It's no problem, Frankie. I love seeing her. Wish I saw her more."

"Me too," he says quietly.

You look up at him, and grab his chin so he meets your eyes.

"You're a damn good Dad, Francisco Morales."

He goes to protest, but you cut him off.

"You are. You need to stop being so hard on yourself. You're doing a good job. I mean, look at her. She's happy, she's healthy, she loves you so much. What more could you ask for?"

Frankie stares at you for a moment.

"You're right."

"Can I get that in writing?"

"Shut up," he laughs, dipping his hand into the bath water to splash you. You splash him back, and before you know it, the three of you are completely soaked. Completely happy.

You eventually get around to cleaning Ava's hair, shampooing and conditioning as carefully as you can. She loves the fact she gets to use your body wash, and slathers herself in it, making you both smile.

You wrap her in the dryer warm towel and sit her in your lap on the floor, rocking gently as she snuggles into your chest. Frankie pulls you both against him, wrapping his arms around you tightly. The three of you sit for a while, peaceful and content.

"I know I don't tell you enough," Frankie murmurs. "But I love you."

"You tell me everyday, Frankie."

"I do?"

"You don't always have to say it out loud, but I know. The way you smile at me across a room, the way you always have one eye on me when we're in public, the way you trust me with Ava. You tell me you love me in a million different ways, every single day."

"I love you," he says again, surer this time.

"I love you. Both of you. So much."

When Ava falls asleep in both of your arms, you convince them to stay the night. The next day, she can't stop telling everyone about the best sleepover ever, with her Dad and her best friend.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The Kitchen. Santiago.

You're completely in your own world. An upbeat, catchy melody hums from the radio and radiates around the room as you slide across the tiles in your socks. You grab your mixing bowl from the cabinet, picking up the bottle of vanilla extract too.

Your hips are swaying, head nodding, feet tapping along to the beat. The sunlight is beaming through the kitchen window, keeping the room bright and warm. There's flour covering every possible surface, sugar sprinkled over the counters. An array of bowls, cups and spoons litter the worktops - a visual representation of your efforts. You've barely even began baking, only just having measured your ingredients. You've set yourself up for an entire day of preparation, ready for the exciting occasion.

You're humming away to yourself, completely oblivious, when two hands plant themselves on your hips from behind. You shriek and throw your elbow backwards, connecting with the person's ribs. You spin around to face your attacker, only to be met with the sight of Santiago Garcia hunched over.

"Fuck!" he groans, clutching at his side.

"Shit! Santi, fuck. I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

"Welcome home to me, I guess," he laughs breathlessly.

"Are you okay? Fuck, I'm so sorry, Santi. I thought you were an intruder or something. You're not supposed to be back until tomorrow!"

He smirks slowly, before winking at you.

"Surprise."

You finally calm your rapid heartbeat down enough to register what's happening. You grin at him, before running and jumping into his arms, holding onto him as tight as possible.

"I missed you so much," he breathes into your hair. "Four months is too long."

"I've been counting down the days," you whisper into his neck. "We all have."

He finally puts you down to take a good look at you.

"You look good, cariño. This dress is real pretty."

"Stop that."

"Stop what?"

He knows what.

"Looking at me like that."

"Like what?"

"You're just full of questions today, aren't you?"

He laughs, twinkle in his eye. The sun has kissed his skin while he's been away. He looks tanned, glowy, alive.

"Last time you looked at me like that, we ended up naked in your hot tub."

"Good times, huh?"

"I hate you," you chuckle, smacking him on the arm.

Santi looks around, and takes in the scene before him. Ingredients scattered, bowls full, oven preheated.

"What are you making, cariño?"

You survey the kitchen quickly before answering.

"Nothing."

He smiles, Cheshire cat style.

"Nothing? You've measured everything out. The oven is on."

You're trying to figure out a way to cover this up, to make up a lie as fast as possible, but it's no use. He can see right through you. You might as well be transparent when it comes to the boys.

"I'm making you a cake," you mutter quickly under your breath.

"What was that? Hmm?"

You roll your eyes and scoff, but give him what he wants.

"I'm making you a cake."

He looks genuinely surprised, gentle smile gracing his face.

"You are?"

"Yeah. I wanted to do something special for you coming home. Tomorrow."

"Sorry, cariño. I didn't know I was coming back early. Thought I'd make the most of it and surprise you."

"Well, now your surprise cake and your surprise party aren't a surprise anymore."

"There's a party too?"

"Shit."

The two of you laugh as he slings an arm around your shoulder.

"Thank you, cariño. You didn't have to do all this for me."

"I wanted to. I'm so excited that you're back, Santi. There's so much I've missed doing with you."

"I made a list."

"Of?"

"Of things I wanted to do with you when I got back. It's what kept me going - thinking of going to that lunch spot with the sandwiches we like, our annual road trip to Cali. It kept me sane."

You turn to face him, wrapping your arms around his neck. You lean up and press your forehead to his, both of you exhaling. You stay tangled together for a long moment, enjoying each others long awaited company.

"You know what was on the top of my list, though?"

"What?"

"Painting your goddamn kitchen."

You laugh, pulling back to look at him incredulously.

"Are you serious?"

"Deadly. This colour is fucking awful."

"It's not that bad."

"It's terrible."

"Fine, fine! Whatever you want, Santi. You can paint my kitchen if that's what your heart desires."

"It is," he grins. "I can think of nothing I want more. We'll do it this weekend."

"Okay," you smile. "Now, about this cake..."

"Can I help you?"

"I can think of nothing I want more."

"I love you," he tells you, stroking a thumb across your cheekbone.

"I love you too. So much, Santi."

The two of you spend the afternoon baking Santiago's cake, singing and dancing around the kitchen. You turn a blind eye to him licking the spoon and sticking his fingers in the icing. You're just glad to have him back, annoying you again.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

The Bedroom. Will.

"Can you pass me that screwdriver please, honey?"

You would, but you can't take your eyes off the man currently kneeling on your bedroom floor. His chest is glistening with sweat, warm in the morning sun. The light illuminates the room in balmy hues of gold, shadows dancing across your faces.

You and Will agreed to dedicate today to building all of your flat pack furniture. You've been sleeping on the floor for weeks, and it's finally taken a toll on your back. So, Will showed up bright and early, ready to tackle your bed, dresser, nightstands, desk, and whatever else presented itself. You were barely awake, still in your pyjamas, sleep heavy in your veins. But the sight of Will, toolbox in hand and smile on his face? That's enough to motivate anyone to assemble furniture all day.

"Honey?"

"Shit, sorry. The green one?"

"Please."

He smirks at you like he's reading your dirty thoughts. He probably is, knowing him. If anyone you knew turned out to be telepathic, it'd be Will. You're convinced he was some sort of psychic in a past life.

"You okay over there?"

"Yeah, I'm good. You need a hand?"

"Come hold this up for me while I screw it in."

You shuffle over to sit next to him, leaning over to hold the piece he's gesturing towards. He's trying desperately not to look down your shirt, and you're trying desperately to ignore the way he smells like heaven.

"C'mere," he murmurs under his breath, scooting backwards so you can get closer to the bed frame. He grabs your hips and pulls you so you're sat between his legs, holding onto the wood steadily. He wraps his arms around you from behind and gets to drilling, placing the screws in perfect rows.

Every now and again, he stops to press a kiss into your hair, or onto your cheek. You smile every single time, heat creeping across your chest. He eventually changes his path, trailing the kisses down onto your neck, shoulders, back. You're breathing so heavily you wonder if you're about to pass out.

"I like this colour," he whispers into your ear.

It takes a moment for your mind to register what he said.

"...Hmm?"

"The colour on your walls. I like it."

"Oh," you murmur. "Santi helped me pick it. He was only gonna do the kitchen, but then we were on a roll, so we ended up painting every room in the house."

He chuckles, tightening his arms around you and encouraging you to relax. You lean back into him, resting your head on his firm shoulder.

"This place is really beautiful, you know," he says lowly. "It's so... you."

"Is that a good thing?"

"The best thing. Beautiful house for a beautiful girl."

"You're a smooth talker, Miller."

"I learned from the best."

The two of you sit intertwined for a while, reveling in the comfort the other person brings. After a while, Will speaks.

"Okay, strong girl, you wanna help me put the mattress onto it?"

You flex your biceps, making you both laugh.

"I mean, I could do it single handedly... but sure, I'll help you."

"That's my girl."

You both make light work of the mattress, picking it up and throwing it onto the frame effortlessly. Will helps you put on your sheets and pillows, standing back to admire his handiwork.

"We did a good job."

"You did a good job, Will. I just sat over there and stared at you the whole time."

"Thought I felt eyes on me," he laughs.

You don't know where it comes from, the sudden honesty. It creeps up your throat out of nowhere, clawing to escape.

"I'm always looking at you."

Will turns to look at you, confusion written across his face.

"No matter where we are, or what we're doing. The most interesting thing in the room is always you."

His features soften, gentle smile tugging at his lips. He strides towards you and cradles your face in his big hands.

"I love you," he tells you so sincerely it makes you want to cry.

"I love you, William Miller. My love for you is just so... overwhelming. Some days I just want to scream it from the rooftops. I don't know what else to do with it."

"Give it to me," he says without missing a beat.

"What?"

"All the love. Don't throw it into the abyss. Give it to me. I want it."

You grin at him, a bright, blinding thing. He reciprocates, before leaning down and smashing his lips to yours. You tangle your fingers into his hair, pulling him impossibly closer. Your knees give out from the sheer love he's kissing you with, both of you tumbling to the floor.

You pull his shirt over his head, exposing his gorgeous, sun soaked skin. He's so broad it makes you clench your thighs together. He tugs your shirt off and throws it across the room, paying no mind to where it lands. The two of you don't separate your lips for more than a second.

He's rutting his hips into yours, the friction making you dizzy. You try and push his jeans down, fingers fumbling with the button. He takes pity on you and shoves them down himself, adding them to the pile of clothes scattered across the room.

Will wastes no time, throwing his boxers behind him and pulling your underwear down your legs. He pushes into you with effortless ease, both of you ready and eager. You unanimously groan in relief, panting rapidly. You claw at his shoulders, leaning up to connect your lips.

"I love you," he whispers against your mouth, hips gliding into yours.

"I love you," you gasp, resting your forehead against his. "I love you I love you I love you."

Will slides a hand down your body to rub quick circles between your legs, dipping his tongue into your mouth as he does it. He's swallowing your moans, licking the whines from your lips. He can't get over how sweet they taste.

"Come for me, honey. Give it to me, good girl. That's it. Atta girl."

You back arches off the floor, nails scratching down his back. Your vision goes white, stars clouding your view. Will groans, deep and low, spilling into you. You both ride out your highs while Will murmurs sweet sentiments into your ear, against your skin, into your mouth.

He collapses onto you, smothering you with his weight. You don't mind. Every part of your body is touching a part of his, and it still isn't close enough. It'll never be close enough. You could sew yourself into his ribcage, and you'd still want to be closer to his heart.

The only sounds that can be heard are two sets of heaving lungs. When you've snapped back to reality, you thread your fingers through his hair, scratching your nails across his scalp and smiling when he leans into your touch.

"Will?"

"Yeah, honey?"

"Why did you just build me a bed, and then fuck me on the floor?"

He takes a moment to register what you've said, before breaking out into contagious laughter. He's vibrating against you, both of you high on each others company.

"I didn't even think," he wheezes. "Fuck, we're idiots."

"You can say that again," you chuckle. "Wouldn't have it any other way."

Will rolls off and lies next to you, linking his fingers with yours.

"You ready to keep building?"

As much as you'd happily stay where you are forever, it would be nice to have actual furniture in your bedroom.

"Let's do it," you say as you sit up.

You scramble around for your clothes, both of you beaming at each other as you get dressed. You walk over and wrap your arms around his neck, looking up at him.

"I can't wait for you to move in."

He grins at you, pecking your lips.

"I can't wait either. Two more months and my lease is up. Then you're stuck with me forever, honey."

"I wouldn't say stuck. More like the luckiest girl in the world."

"Can I get that in writing?"

"Shut up," you laugh, grabbing the toolbox. "Let's build our furniture, shall we?"

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

"You've made this place really beautiful, you guys."

"Beautiful house for a beautiful girl," Will grins at you across the table.

"Ugh, I hate when they do that," Benny complains.

"Do what?"

"Look at each other like that. It's like they're communicating through their minds, or something."

"We're silently talking about you, dipshit," Will teases, jabbing his brother in the side.

"Before the Millers kill each other, we bought you a present, hermosa. Think of it as a one year housewarming gift."

Frankie hands you a large rectangular parcel, wrapped carefully. You rip open the paper, discovering a large, ornate picture frame. In it, is your favourite picture in the world.

You and Will's first dance.

Frankie had taken the picture, unbeknownst to the two of you. You're both swaying to the music, arms wrapped around your husband's neck, completely lost in each other. Around you, the lights twinkle as your closest friends and family look on in awe.

"Frankie," you breathe. "Thank you. All of you. I love it so much."

"We thought you could hang it above your fireplace," Santiago offers. "In that big empty space."

"It's perfect," Will agrees.

"It's like the final piece of the puzzle," you whisper. "Now our home feels complete."

You trace your fingers over the frame, overwhelmed with adoration for the four boys staring back at you.

"I love you all," you tell them, glancing around the table. "So much."

"Love you, hermosa."

"Love you too, cariño."

"Love ya, baby!"

"I love you, honey."

The chorus makes you beam so bright, you're convinced your smile can be seen from space.

@kmc1989 @modernperplexity @sia2raw @pimosworld

[anonymityisfunwriter]

The GED

Pairing - Grumpy!Bucky Barnes x Sunshine!Reader Summary - There's more than one way to be smart. Or so you've been told. But how on Earth do you go about proving that you're not (the stupid, illiterate Avenger) dumb?

Anon's 1K Celebration | The GED Series List

"Can you please just listen to me?" Sam begs you. "I'm telling you this is a bad idea."

"Or it's an amazing idea and it'll all be for the better!" you counter, plating the last of your freshly baked chocolate chip cookies.

He snatches a cookie from the plate when he thinks you're not watching, "Or you'll make an already strained relationship like ten times worse."

You glare at him, snatching the cookie back and placing it back on the plate, "Or by then end of the day we'll have a new set of friends."

Bucky groans, entering the room just in time to hear your rebuttal to Sam's negativity, "Please, not more friends. I don't like the ones I have as it is."

"See?" Sam wildly gestures to Bucky. "When do we ever agree on anything? It just proves that this is a terrible idea!"

"Hi," Bucky finally greets you, gently pecking your lips. "Missed you. Now, who exactly are we trying to make friends with?"

"The SHIELD agents downstairs," you blithely reply.

Bucky quirks an eyebrow at you, "Why? They hate us."

"That's exactly what I said!" Sam frantically exclaims.

"Have we ever asked ourselves why they hate us?" you muse. "Maybe we need to be a little nicer to them."

"Or maybe it's because they're bitter and jealous that we're better than them," Sam remarks.

"Well, it's definitely not because of Sam's incredible sense of humility," Bucky sarcastically retorts.

"Shut up," Sam snarks. "And we are better. Our stats are better, we get first pick of assignments, our mission times are like a third of theirs, Fury trusts us a hell of a lot more, and we get all the good snacks."

"And that means we can't be friends?" you rhetorically ask. "We work together all the time!"

"Listen, it's not that bad of a deal," Bucky tries to convince you. "They tolerate us. We tolerate them. It's never caused a problem on missions or anything, so who cares? Not everyone in this world is going to like you."

"Who else doesn't like me?" you frantically question, quirking an eyebrow at Bucky.

"Everyone likes you," Bucky assures you.

"Except the people downstairs," Sam teases.

"That's it!" You throw your hands up in frustration. "I'm going down there. I'm just going to bring these cookies down there and talk to them. They're just people, I'm sure they're all really nice!"

"Nice going," Bucky mutters to Sam, elbowing him in the ribs. "Come on, can't we just leave well enough alone? Isn't it enough that the people who actually know you like you? And not to mention, I like you and I don't like anybody."

"Aww.." you coo at Bucky, caressing his cheek. "Nope, too late, I'm committed."

"Why?" Sam groans. "You're never going to get everyone in the world to like you!"

"Oh, yes, I can! I've spend my entire time out in the world cultivating a personality that's impossible not to like just to satisfy my compulsive people pleasing tendencies."

Bucky's eyebrows furrow as a teasing smile pulls at the corner of his mouth, "People really don't see this side of you enough."

Sam nods, "You're a little scary when you think people don't like you."

"Scary or strangely endearing?" you wonder.

"Scary! Definitely scary!"

Bucky sighs to himself, pinching the bridge of his nose, "You're not going to leave this alone, are you?"

You beam at the two of them, scooping up the plate of cookies, "Not even a little bit."

"It's a bad idea!" Sam bellows down the corridor as you walk away from him.

You roll your eyes as you step onto the elevator and tell Friday to take you to the third floor, where the SHIELD agents typically hung out.

It wasn't a bad idea. It was a great idea. What could go wrong with trying to bring people closer together? They were just people. They were people you had to trust with your lives, why not get to know them a little bit more?

As you step off the elevator, you immediately notice that this layout is almost identical to the one upstairs, except without all the extravagant touches of Tony Stark. You amble down the hallway, looking for a sign of anyone. You figure if the layout is the same, their common room will be in the same place as the one upstairs. 

You're right, you realize when you start to hear faint voices from where you thought their common room would be. Even all the way down the hall, voices echo off the walls as you make your way closer.

You certainly don't mean to eavesdrop or listen into a conversation that you're not supposed to hear.

No, you definitely don't mean to eavesdrop on your new friends, but the open floor plan does nothing to dampen the sounds of their booming voices. 

"Yeah, I leave first thing tomorrow," an unfamiliar voice sighs.

"Who with?" someone else asks.

You don't like the way they spit Bucky's name out in disgust, "Barnes."

"Oh, he's the worst!" the same voice dramatically groans. You silently scoff at the insinuation that Bucky was the worst. "He just sits and stares like he's got nothing better to do."

"Please, I'd take him over his girlfriend any day," a different female scoffs.

You freeze at the mention of yourself. You know you should go. You shouldn't be listening to this. The things they were saying were definitely not nice, but neither was eavesdropping.

"Oh come on, she's not that bad."

You sigh in relief, feeling a little better that someone was defending you. You could go upstairs and tell Sam that he was wrong, not all the SHIELD agents were that bad.

And in the next second, you were proved very, very wrong.

"She's just such an idiot!" Your stomach twists in knots as the same SHIELD agent continues complaining about you. This is what you got for eavesdropping, you tell yourself. They're entitled to their own opinions about you. Better yet, you could change their minds and show them that there was more to you than what meets the eye. You just don't want to believe that people can be this mean, that it's so easy for them to be this casually cruel. They just didn't know you. You were sure that if they did know you all, they wouldn't be saying such awful things. "I don't know what everyone sees in her, but I swear I can see right through that whole Sunshine act."

"I dunno, she acted like that on the last mission I had with her."

"She didn't let up? Not once?"

"Nope! The whole time."

"I'd rather get caught by the bad guys then deal with her for a whole week."

"Who knows, maybe Barnes likes them dumb," the agent giggles. The words feel like a punch to the gut. You want to leave, to turn on your heels and pretend like you never heard a thing, but you're frozen in shock. "Like a Stepford Wife thing."

"If that's true, then they'll be together forever," the same agent, the one going on a mission with Bucky tomorrow, jokes. 

"What do you think they even talk about?"

"Who knows?"

"My question is what kind of adult makes it knowing as little as she does?"

"The kind with Fury in their back pocket."

"Exactly! It's the only reason she's even apart of the team. I'd bet anything she's never even picked up a book."

"Can I tell you guys something?" an agent exclaims. "Someone got into a bunch of their files upstairs. And guess what? She can't even read! She's illiterate! An illiterate Avenger!"

Your blood runs cold. Those were private. They held so much intimate information about you and your history and they were using it to make fun of you, make fun of the people that chose to love you.

You weren't sure what was worse, that they were using your past to make fun of you, or that they knew intimate details of your past, they knew the torment you were put through as a child and they still thought it was funny, they still used it as a way to belittle you. As though you had any control over it. As though it was your fault.

It's only then that you realize that tears are staining your cheeks, that you're still standing in the hallway with a plate of cookies as a peace offering for the SHIELD agents making fun of you and your friends. 

"Probably doesn't even know what a book is. Maybe her next mission should be a day of kindergarten."

It's mean. It's meaner than they have any right to be, but a lightbulb goes off in your head as you finally regain the ability to leave.

You furiously wiped away your tears, storming down the corridor and back to your side of the Compound. You leave the plate of pastries on the counter for your team mates.

And you made a decision right then and there. You wouldn't cry. You wouldn't try to convince them that you were smart. You would just do better. Be better. You were going to show them that you could be more than the illiterate Avenger. 

In that very moment, you decide your very next mission: School.

AnonymityIsFun Masterlist Grumpy Sunshine Series Anon's 1K Celebration

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

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[prideofcelestia]

❝when you repeat his words❞

« characters -> lucifer, asmodeus, solomon, diavolo, barbatos, luke, mephistopheles »

« gender neutral reader »

« headcanons »

« notes -> suggestive for lucifer's part, the way he is in the game... platonic for luke »

LUCIFER

His brows furrow.

"What is the meaning of this?"

When you mimic his displeased demeanour, he is almost sure that you are making fun of him.

Eyes narrowed, he stares at you for a while before sighing and bursting out into laughter, "You sure come up with the most random activities to have fun. It's cute."

Sure enough, you repeat his words.

"Hmmm? Why don't you follow me to my room and I will tell you about the latest activity I thought of? We can both take part in it and it won't be 'cute'," he smiles meaningfully.

ASMODEUS

"Awwww, you're such a cutie, trying to mimic my words!" he says. After a moment of pondering, he smiles seductively and coos, "I love love looove you, Asmo chan ♡.You are the brightest star on any stage! I swoon over your perfection, my lovely darling. Why don't you reserve all your hugs and kisses for me only? I want you all to myself! Oh, you are such a tease! Why do you leave me even for a moment? Please take me in your arms, right now and spoil me, my sweetheart!"

You are left speechless at the words he came up with on the spot. Since you didn't memoriese the words, you tried to satisfy him in your own way.

"Asmo, you know how I love you. You steal my attention when you walk into a room~"

He squeals, "Kyaaaa♡~ You did almost as good as the original! I knew you wouldn't disappoint me."

SOLOMON

He laughs at your antics and is amused to find you mimicking that sound too. When he narrows his eyes, you know that the cogwheels in his head are turning with some idea of its own.

"I am glad that I have a good teacher," he says coyly, waiting for you to reply. The smirk on his face makes you falter. You realise that irrespective of your reply, he will have his fun so you shrug and give up.

LUKE

When you stay silent, his smile widens. "Seems like your teacher taught you well. You know when to quit. Hahaha."

He blushes when he notices, his initial surprise fading away. Normally he would consider it rude but since it's you, he knows you're not making fun of him. So he's fine with it.

"H-Hey! Why are you repeating my words?"

"And the cute chihuahua says, 'H-Hey! Why are you repeating my words?'." you tease.

"I am NOT a chihuahua!" he pouts with hands formed in fists.

"I am NOT a chihuahua!" you bellow in an exaggerated manner and sulk.

Luke looks upset so you drop the act.

BARBATOS

He doesn't really react so you are left wondering if he even realised what you are doing.

"Barbatos, did you notice that I repeated the exact words you said? And copied your mannerisms too?"

"Why, yes, of course I did." he answers with soft laughter escaping his lips. " If I may take the liberty, allow me to say that I quite enjoyed it. And now, if you will quench my curiosity, why did you do so?"

His curious eyes fixed on you, taking you quite by surprise. "Eh... I was just having fun."

"Ah, I see. If it makes you happy, I will like to see you continue your endeavour."

A blush dusts his cheeks as he continues, "If I may be so bold, I will be really happy to know that I am the only one you mimic."

DIAVOLO

He finds the whole experience highly enjoyable.

"Oh, is this a human world game where you mimic the other's words? Hahaha I think this is an innovative way to bring people together."

The twinkle in his eyes makes you answer his question rather than continuing your prank. "Yes, it's really fun."

"Ohhhh? Is it my turn to repeat your words now?" he muses. Mirroring your actions, his voice echos, "Yes, it's fun."

You laugh at his seriousness so he joins you - half for the game, half because he wants to share the moment with you.

When Barbatos finds you two like that, he quickly exits. The sacred moment need not a third participant.

MEPHISTOPHELES

"I don't have time for this," he says when you stare at him for a while without speaking. "If you have something to say, say it."

He frowns when you repeat his words.

"Has the cold and lack of sun gotten to your head? You were the one who came to me."

He looks irritated when you mimic him again.

"I am a demon. I am used to the cold and lack of sun.... Ah I see. I read about a game like this in the human world. Why don't you find another victim, like Lucifer? I would love to know how he reacted."

The idea seems to please him so much that he starts daydreaming on the spot.

[yan-lorkai]

Hello , i hope your doing great . Would you please do a scenario for yandere undertaker and yandere sebastian (separately) x fem reader. Reader doesn't want to marry them so she tries to run away away at the wedding day but fails and gets captured ? Thank you ❤

.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ Warnings: Yandere content, fem reader, kidnapping, implied murder, threats.

Marriage is nothing more than a union between two people before God, so for Sebastian this does not carry the same meaning. For him, marriage only symbolizes what in his conception is already true: that you are his in every way and now the marriage certificate proves it. Even if you oppose to this marriage, Sebastian doesn't care.

Although he would love for you to give your opinion on the decorations or the type of cake you would like have at the wedding, he knows you are still in denial so he plans everything himself. From the hanging chandelier, to the flowers in the bouquet, to the dress you're wearing that he sewed himself, every little detail meticulously planned to be perfect.

He knows that humans like to be surrounded by their parents, relatives and friends on a special day like these, and if you had behaved they would all really be here. But it's better this way, just you, him and the priest who officiated the ceremony. That way he doesn't have to kill your parents and friends in front of you when you shout and scream about everything you've been through with him. Even though part of him wished this had happened, with no one else out there waiting for you, looking for you, praying, you would have only him. Only him.

Maybe he would kill them and return to your side, blood dripping from his hands and face as he kisses and touches you. Maybe he would even tell you what he did and how he did it to observe your reactions. If you like to act like he's the biggest evil in the world, maybe he'll give you a reason to hate and fear him. Maybe, but he won't act on those thoughts if you don't force his hand. The same hand with which he fixes your hair and makes your makeup, circling you to get a view of you from all sides.

"I will wait for you at the altar, my dear," His tone was soft, but there was an implicit promise of death in his eyes, a bloodthirsty glint that you had been able to witness many times before. Just for a second longer Sebastian stands there, looking at you through the mirror and then he smiles and leaves.

Your heart beats quickly inside your chest, it beats like it has never beat before. Your nerves are on edge, but you have to calm down and take a deep breath. You know what Sebastian is, you know how strong he is, but you know that an opportunity like that is unique and you must take advantage of it. You must escape now.

Running away isn't hard, well, actually it is a little, because you're wearing a dress and high heels but you kick them all and hold them hem of your dress up. And you run. You run as you never ran on your life. You know Sebastian is busy with tons of things, plus you are supposed to come a little late, as you are the bride. But you clearly underestimate him.

He may not be with you physically but as a demon he has his ways of knowing where you are and how you are, he can feel your heart beating, he can taste your fear and apprehension. And he loves it, he loves knowing your fear him, to know you are opposed to this marriage, given time he knows you come around.

But for now he enjoys the chase. He excuse himself for a moment to go meet you halfway through your attempting escape. You can hear his beautiful little laugh, can see his shadows but when you look behind your shoulder there's nothing there. He is playing with you, getting you even more frightened before trapping you in his arms so tight not even air can arrive at your lungs. His hand closes on your throat as he look at you, eyes red with animalistic excitement. "Dear me, look what we have here." He muses, watching you breathe hard, beads of sweat running down your forehead.

"Sebastian... What a pleasure to see here." Your reply is sarcastic, weak. But it makes him smile as he caress your face lovingly, as lovingly as a demon can, though you feel dirty at every touch, at every moment you're trapped under his creepy stare.

"You run away like a little lost mouse so I've came to get you back right where you belong. Don't make things harder than necessary, darling." It's his final warning. You know, you can feel in your bones that if you are to try anything again he would retaliate.

He has been doing a great job at keeping his demonic tendencies in check even when you snarled and yelled at him those past few weeks. But there truly nothing you could do? There was nothing you could try? His hand held yours, guiding you, the oppressive silence making you even more uncomfortable.

And when the priest asked "do you accept this man as your lawful and only husband?" All you could do was stare at him, tongue numb, members tired before answering. "I do."

And like a mouse, you were caught in Sebastian's trap. One you could never escape.

⠀⠀

Marriage. What a strange concept. Why people get married, that's what Undertaker thought when checking humans' memories. They all got married, they all had children, they all had their ups and downs together, yet they loved each other. Is love really that essential for humans? He didn't know, but he had a lot of questions to ask. And many of them answered themselves when you appeared in his life.

You had recently lost someone and like a wounded bird, you walked into his funeral home. It was like destiny. It was like a lever had been pulled in his brain, like he could finally see colors and feel the warmth of the sun on his skin after so long without those things. He was drawn to you, enchanted by your words. And everything else was history.

Undertaker knew that humans are fragile and fearful, and he tried to woo you the right, human way. Giving you flowers, walking with you, hearing you talk. And everything would have worked out if you hadn't discovered that he wasn't human, that he was a Shinigami and desperately tried to get away from him. He didn't want to kidnap nor threaten you but he grown desperate. He didn't want to lose the feelings you gave him, he didn't want to let you go. So he did what was necessary, he gave you a new home, he gave you books and lines for you to sew and weave if you wanted. He gave you everything you wanted but your freedom.

A marriage was bound to happen because he wanted you to experience this little enjoy. But also because he wanted to tie you to him even more, to make you his wife and be able to truly calls his wife. The ceremony is not as beautiful and organized as Sebastian's, but he supposes is the thought that counts. He buys you a really cute white dress and make-up, and he lets you get ready alone. As the bride and the groom can't see each other till they're both on the altar or something like this, honestly he doesn't understand this saying. Why can't he see you? He wants to see you!

But he controls himself, he has to. He stands on the altar with the priest at his side. He hums and waits impatient. Meanwhile you is running away so hard that everything else turns into a blur, people, voices, sounds, smells, everything is a blur as you run and pray for someone to save you. Anyone. Tears flow from your eyes when in the distance you see his silvery long hair and dangerous green eyes staring at you. You tremble, biting your lip so hard not to scream that you can taste blood on your tongue, you force your legs to work more than they can handle, you're sure later on your feet would be filled with blisters but you don't care about it now.

Though it's not enough. It's not enough and you hated it. You hear him mumbling while he catches up with you, a part of you is surprised he isn't actually going to pull his scythe from wherever he keep it and reap your soul right here and now. The part of you who is still in love with him wavers for a second, you think only for a second if it's worth to try, if you actually can win against him, if can actually escape and your hesitation is all he needs for him to close his arms around your body tightly. He breathes hard, warm air hitting your neck as you feel him still against you, afraid of losing you. Afraid of losing everything.

"Why did you run, sugar? Wasn't I good enough for you? Didn't I treat you right?" He was whispering right at your ear. And that was much more scarier than having him screaming or having him threatening to hit you. "Don't you love me anymore? That can't be, right? You must be a little scared, oh sweetheart I know marriage is a big step but everything's going to be fine. I can take care of everything, leave all the work to me."

As if to made you pity him even more, you could little tears streaming down his face and onto your back, timidly, slowly. A sour taste lingers on your mouth. You can't escape now. You can't escape now that he is so on alert, every little move you make would be under his eyes. You can't escape now but you certainly can play your card right. And the right thing to do now was surrender yourself. Surrender and wait for an opportune moment.

For now you let him fix your dress and hair carefully, and then drag you to that damned altar. It's suffocating, insufferable. And there's nothing you can do about it. He holds your hand as he slips the ring into your finger and look at you like you hung the stars in the sky.

"I do." You say as you stare at him. In the future your attempt would be successful but for now you may entertain him.

[mtchacffinz]

loose lips sink ships!

prompt! you don't talk much when you're tipsy, but when you do..

content! gn!reader, drunk confession, heavy on fluff, mutual pining, drabble ficlet, short and sweet ♡

note! kaf is here again !! not much words from me right now, but i want to feed Dan Heng stans so here you go (⁠*⁠˘⁠︶⁠˘⁠*⁠)⁠.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ love you ~

Dan Heng doesn't seem to mind going out once and a while. Of course, being closed off in one space could get suffocating even for someone like him who enjoys his time in solace. In a time where one needs at least a breath of fresh air, he knows more than well that it's time to get a new landscape to take in for the sake of himself.

He didn't expect that landscape to be you. The sight of you, on the Express counter, dazed.

You looked heavily flushed. You're eyes were unfocused and hazed. It didn't take even a moment of pondering for Dan Heng to know you were intoxicated and he wasn't about to ask why. Don't get him wrong, this man doesn't like to pry. As he approaches your figure, he observed you were quiet, as always— absorbed in your own little bubble universe. Making his way to the counters, the Trains kitchen always kept an abundance of food sources; he got you a glass of cold water.

Tapping onto your shoulder lightly, he hands you the glass. Delighted, you take it from him gleefully; giving the teal eyed prince your thanks. Dan Heng knows you don't talk much when you're tipsy. Times like this were pretty rare, he knows you don't usually drink.

The raven haired boy sits beside you silently, joining you in comfortable silence. On the occasional tap of your fingernails on the glass, he counts the minutes he's been spending with you. Stealing a glance from your figure, he notices your face was flushed in hues of heat. Slowly, your gaze found themselves to be locked with his — as Dan Heng can't seem to look away from.

"I'm not drunk, you know."

His eyes narrow at you ever so slightly. Humouring your antics, he voices out his own thoughts.

"How so?"

"I'm dreaming. I definitely am!" You say that so proudly, he can't help but curb a smile. He almost sighs, leaning towards the counter— letting his jaw rest on his palm. You continue your musings. "I can barely make out of anything. Hey, there's this local specialty I've been gifted in a world recently. Its so strong, i think I'm going to pass out."

Dan Heng's gaze never left yours, urging you to continue. Did you know? Aside from the calming splash of ocean waves, he loves listening to your voice. He loves hearing you ramble about every little thing you'd like to share.

"I'm not surprised if I passed out just recently, so I might be dreaming right now."

"So you mean to say I'm a figment of your subconscious." With that remark, you can't seem to refute. Thats what he at least thought. But no, you surprise him with your next words.

"You're still divine, even in dreams."

It wasn't related to his previous response at all. Dan Heng seems to be taken aback, his eyes slightly widening. Nevertheless, he purses his lips and let's you keep talking.

"Ah, you've stuck to me so deeply even if I can't see at the moment, you're perfectly fine to me.." a slight pout on your lips, you shake your head dismissively. "Dream Heng, let me tell you something ~" you coo sweetly, trying to attain his interest. Come closer, you beckon. A little reluctant, he leans into you, his ears at your disposal.

Dream Heng? So you really do believe you're asleep. What in the world did you ingest anyway?

You lean into his ear. He feels your hot breath on his cheeks, inciting that fluttering churn in his stomach. You're hand lay rest in his shoulder, while the other slightly caress his green earpiece.

"I really like your earring. Is it an earring? I don't know.. I'm not sure." You ponder out loud. Heat rushes up to his cheeks very quickly; not just from the close proximity, but from your sincere praise as well. "Your eyeliners really nice too. Can you apply mine?"

There was a reason, and he knew. Dan Heng knew why his heart fluttered, the mere fact of that is extremely conflicting. If he gets you involved in his life, and gets you tangled in this mess..

You pull away so suddenly, flushed. He inwardly deflates. It's embarrassing that he almost pulled you back just to have you near him. In Dan Hengs defense, it was a reflex.

"I've always wanted to ask you that, I'm embarrassed.." gushing, fanning your face. He blinks. Sitting straight up, his ears was still dusted with a cute hue of peony. Dan Heng clears his throat before you continue. "Dream Heng, you'd do that for me, would you? Please? Awwe, this is so nice! I feel like I can do everything with Dream Heng ~" your voice was so sweet. As you play around, you almost trip when you stand up.

Ah, the floor is like jelly right now, it feels like you're in a Donut. Dan Heng was quick to put you back on your feet.

"Be careful." he says softly. The boys hold on you was firm, making sure you don't stumble. God, you really we're drunk. There was an entirely new aroma somewhere, not of the usual beverage he knows. Maybe it's the new specialty you've dug out in a new world? Nevertheless, your hold on him was just the same. Tension was in the air, and you were about to make a move on it.

Dan Heng's teal woven eyes slowly travels to your lips. Was it conscious cognition? Maybe, maybe not. But the dark haired prince knew you saw, and you weren't about to let go.

"You can kiss me. I really like you, so it's fine." His breath hitches, face brightening up with brilliant red. You say that with no reluctance, non-existent restraint, and with a grin so shameless! Of courses, he admits— he wants to! But he j can't. He just can't! In a attempt to collect himself, Dan Heng gives himself a pause.

After a few mere moments of him sulking, as you were completely oblivious to his internal crisis, he finally speaks.

"You.. like me?" Dan Heng asks, slowly. He swallows thickly. His voice lingered in your head— echoing his heartbeat. Was it his? No, maybe it was yours. You don't know!

"Hmm? I do." That seemed to flip something in him. Oh, he wants to keep hearing you say this. But at the same time, there's something crawling in his back. It watches him like a hawk and it gets under his skin— but before he could say something, you cut him off.

"Hmmm. Even Dream Heng can't kiss me in my dreams. How could I ever get with a real one?" you sigh, breathless. It came out more like a soft whine. What? Eyes avoidant of his, you go about your way of immersing in your own thoughts. Maybe you didn't have thoughts at all, just zoning out. Dan Heng holds you closer this time.

Suddenly, the so-called ice prince lifts you up into his arms, carrying you effortlessly. Surprised, you let out a yelp. Eyes averting yours, even if you're in his confinement, he disallows you to see his face. You can't help but think what's up with him?

"I can't." he says sternly; like there was no room for discussion. How could he? How could he when you're at your most vulnerable? Your thoughts may be distorted, and maybe it's feeding you these untrue and conflicting feelings.

What if he got this all wrong?

He'd prefer if you flirt with him sober.

"But what I can do is to let you get rest."

Upon hearing that, you quickly protest, trying to get out of his hold. "What? No! If I sleep here, I'd wake up pissed. Imagine sleeping in luxury and waking up in an alley way! Just put me on the floor. I'll wake up soon."

He shakes his head in disagreement, only holding you closer. "You'll be fine. I promise. If your real Dan Heng wouldn't lie to you, how could I be any different?" Dan Heng says this so calmly— as if it was natural. His words were truthful, and he could only wish you knew. He would never deceive you— Dan Heng would never dare take advantage of you.

You swore your heart leaped. Are you in it so deep your brain creates these fantastic fantasies? You've always loved his sincere attitude, as well as his considerate nature. Dan Heng was always a man of his words, rationalizing every bit for the sake of his dear ones and himself. As your thoughts for on, only before then your eyelids start to feel heavy. Drooping sleepily, your hands lay on your sides, snuggling to his body heat closely.

After that, all left was darkness.

He's genuinely such a sweet guy, even if you get to read his messages. I want to eat him like a cupcake (⁠●⁠’⁠3⁠)⁠♡⁠(⁠ε⁠`⁠●⁠)

[crownmemes]

Immortal Sentences, Vol. 4

(Sentences for immortal muses. Adjust phrasing where needed)

"Every story has a beginning, but no story truly has an end."

"People die. It happens. Sometimes they even die twice."

"I've never seen much good come from looking to the past."

"Time is my greatest enemy."

"You of all people shouldn't be one to dismiss the influence of the past."

"Quite frankly, your lifespan sucks!"

"Did you think you could just go on and never once have to look back?"

"You opened up the door to feelings I'd forgotten - emotions I'd pushed out of my memory."

"Time is a flat circle and we are all stuck in it."

"What if the ending isn't really the ending after all?"

"Do you remember the last time you were happy?"

"The world changed. It doesn't mean you have to."

"Time is a flat circle. Everything we've ever done or will do, we're going to do over and over again."

"I don't expect you to understand this. I don't completely understand it myself!"

"I've never had a conversation with a dead guy before; forgive me if I don't know the rules!"

"They can't kill what's already dead."

"What would you know about where I'm from?"

"Perhaps in this case, death is merely an inconvenience."

"We mortals are but shadows and dust."

"I've lived a long time, so believe me when I tell you that sometimes when one walks away from his fate, it leads one directly to fate's doorstep."

"Yes, I remember. I remember everything."

"You and I have observed history. Time has been our glass. We are in history now. Living it. Making it."

"You have lived for far too long."

"I've had a few centuries of experience."

"Nothing ever changes with you, does it?"

"What am I going to do with you? You simply won't die."

"I thought I already killed you!"

"I watched you die, and I'm looking forward to seeing you do that again."

[short-black-diamond]

can you pls do moments they realised they were in love with you for kaiser, rin, barou, sae and karasu thank you 💗💗

female reader tysm

naw these requests are so cuuuuuuuute!!! Also thank you for mentioning the gender.

and please stop requesting for kaiser. i hate him.

---

"I think I'm in love with you!"

Kaiser

Kaiser saw you again after he went to japan, and he noticed a few changes in you. your hair didn't look really taken care of. Your eyes were dull, and you didn't radiate the same glow you did before he left.

He huffed in amusement. "What's up with you, ____?", he asked, examining your face closely. You smiled at him fondly. "I missed you. That's all, Michael."

His eyes widened, and a slow blush errupted in his face. He surpressed a grin, failed to do so, and then just smiled at you. "Really? and why's that?", he asked as he saw you smiling up at him. you were starting to look more and more like the ____ he knew as you smiled, and he was glad.

"Because you're my closest friend, Michael. You leaving me and Germany...it was like I was robbed off my soul, you know?", you spoke softly as you shyly averted your eyes.

He gulped. Damn, that was very smooth and poetic of you, ____...

"And...why is that? ...Hey, would you mind...maybe joining me to a trip accross the world? that way, you wouldn't miss me, you know?", he mused, smirking at you. He actually wanted to tease you.

Though he was taken aback when you smiled at him with a hopeful glint. "I'd love that, Michael.", you said, and Kaiser had to take a few moments to calm down his nerves.

Why was he so shy all of a sudden, averting his eyes at your smile? Or how fast his heart raced...

Could it be...that Kaiser fell for you?

The thought alone made him flinch, which startled you. "You okay?!", came your worried tone, along with a hand on his arm, which he dumbly flexed.

You blinked a few times. "...Micha?" "Y-yes, I'm okay, just-just thought about something.", he answered with a stutter and a heavy blush on his face before he looked away.

You only looked at him with a confused but worried expression whereas he was twisting his face and grabbing his throbbing heart.

Rin

You guys were actually childhood friends, along with Sae. However, whenever you and Sae conversed, Rin pouted and pulled at your hair to get your direction, yelling stuff like; "Stop listening to my lukewarm brother and play soccer with me, ____!"

You guys were seven, eight and nine at that time. Rin was the youngest.

Now, as Rin was checking yet another one of your messages with a small smile, Sae looked over his shoulder. "Damn, you still didn't confess?"

"Shut it. And besides, we're just friends."

"Just friends? Don't make me laugh...Y'know, I'm surprised, Rin.", the elder brother started, his bored eyes having a hint of a mischievous glint. Rin frowned, his guard up.

"How come you never confess to ____? It's not like she doesn't like you.", he said and crossed his arms over his chest, looking down at his younger brother.

Rin's eyes narrowed, but the older brother could see his cheeks taking in a pinkish hue. Got him.

"I mean, I'd be a much better option, given the fact that I have more money than you, I can play soccer in a manship while you have to rot in Blue Lock, and I've been to spain, a place where ____'s been dying to go to."

Sae loved the expression on Rin's face. "tch...as if she'd like somebody as lukewarm as you, Sae." "And you're not? Tell me; why should she choose you over me?", Sae asked, leaning down to look Rin more in the eyes.

the younger brother's eyes widened, and his brows furrowed. "because I don't look around bored and also don't act like a fucking adult whenever she mentions something cute or funny. I actually listen to her while you're so obsessed with wanting to bring me down."

Sae huffed after a moment after he glared at Rin. "then confess."

And with that, Sae left, leaving Rin alone with his thoughts. Rin was already about to ask you to meet him when his finger halted on the send button.

How did he even fall in love?

was it because he knew you since you two were kids? Or how you weren't a loud person but soft spoken? That you were a no-nonsense girl?

Rin's cheeks got warmer the longer he thought about it, until his phone vibrated. you sent a message.

-'Of course I'd love to go out with you!'-

That was your message. Did he-

Rin's face scrunched up and his nose flared up. He sent the message. At least he could go out with you now...if he had an idea where to go to exactly.

He wrote you back with a red face.

Barou

that guy...hm...

I think you two could've been roommates in a boarding school because Barou strikes me as a boy who went to boarding school before Blue Lock.

So imagine you and him going shopping for cleaning utensils which you guys ran short of, and arguing all the while on the way there.

"Cif is the best, dude!"

"I don't want everything to smell after Lemons, ____!", he retorted back and you clicked yout tongue.

"But it covers the smell of sweat and rotting food your friends have left!"

"Isagi, Bachira and Chigiri are not my friends.", he seethed, tick marks appearing on his skin.

you only huffed. There was a short moment of silence as you two went a small path ahead, none of you guys saying a word. However, you bit your lip.

"You seem to be pretty good friends with Isagi though.", you remarked quietly and giggled when Barou whipped his head to you with a pissed off face.

"I'M NOT!"

You held a hand in front of your mouth to stop the laughter from breaking out, and Barou huffed grumpily. However, as he looked back to you, he blushed.

You looked pretty cute, giggling into your hands, and the sound you made while doing so was also pretty nice.

the king then froze. That was actually the first time he thought like that. And the more he thought about it, the more he came to the conclusion that...well...

'Am I in...love?', he thought when he looked at you with a frown, but rosy cheeks. He quickly turned around when his cheeks got warmer.

"C-come on, ____. I heard today's sale is 70% off on the cleaning supplies...c'mon stop laughing, dammit!", Barou exclaimed when you snorted and looked to the side, still having a hand on your lips as you chuckled at his face earlier.

Barou only groaned before walking ahead, already having a headstart as he heard your surprised gasp and betrayed tone as you yelled at him to wait for you. Barou smiled.

Sae

You were the funniest girl with the juiciest ass he's ever seen, so of course he'd fall for you. He can't even remember when he actually fell, I think it was when you did a horrible pick up line which was so bad that Sae spit out the water he had in his mouth out of his nose.

However, now, as you two became good friends, Sae actually felt the more romantic feelings instead of 'damn she's hot' or 'what she said was so fucking hilarious'.

Now, he was watching you as you were preparing some food for him and you to eat, and he watched you with a bored expression, although he had one pink dot which covered both sides of his cheeks.

"Sae, stop looking...you know it makes me nervous.", you said in a concentrated tone, your gaze flicking up to meet his and the eyelocking stopped as soon as it began.

Sae stretched. "But I want to see you not burn the kitchen for once." "Hah? Who was so smart to put noodles with no water into the pot yesterday??"

Sae shut up. He actually broke your favourite pot and had to buy you a new one.

"thought so. Would you like some peppers with it?" "Would you?" "I asked you first." "and I second."

You sighed in frustration as you put the peppers away. you didn't really like peppers in food. Sae smiled softly at you.

he could imagine living with you like that. little arguments, lots of laughter, seeing your beauty...yeah, he fell for you just like that.

Karasu

you, otoya and karasu were friends, having gone to the same highschool. you are yourself, a great person. Karasu always felt at ease with you, but he hates when Otoya tries to flirt with you.

He fears Otoya might make you catch feelings, and that his friend might take you out on dates. he fears Otoya might hold you and kiss you, and promise sweet nothings into your ear.

He fears Otoya might break your heart.

Otoya Eita was known for being a cheater, and yet, numerous girls fell for him. You didn't.

However, it was only a matter of time for Karasu before you'd come running to him and tell him about your crush on Eita.

That didn't happen though. It still hasn't. It is eating away at Karasu's brain and heart. 'why didn't she confess yet?', he thinks, as he scans through your and his conversations on his phone. no mentioning of you having the slightest ounce of romance-y favours on Otoya.

but...

...why does Karasu care so much?

.....

.....

.....

....

....

....

...

...

...

..

..

..

.

.

.

Oh.

That's why.

A deep blush suddenly finds itself spreading out on Karasu's cheeks like a desease. you sit right accross him with your adorable, cat-themed chocolate coffee, doing your homework.

"Staring's rude.", you whisper, and Karasu closes his eyes. "Sorry.", he whispers back.

you raise your gaze from the ink to his face, and frown. "are you okay? you're beet red..."

god...you're so...how? when did he even fall for you?!

"I'm alright, please don't worry.", he says softly, but you don't buy him that. you just hold out the chocolate milk to him.

"Drink." "it is your drink." "and?"

'god,whydoyouhavetobesocuteandconsiderateandsweet,whycan'tyoujustfallforOtoya!?', he thinks as he takes the cup and brings it up to his lips.

He sighs and takes a sip. it is surprisingly good. "thanks."

Still red in the face. 'my face is burning...fuck.'

---

efewoifwfpo

I hope this was okay my love!!!

REQUESTS ARE CLOSEDDDDD

please tell me if you didn't really like it, I'll try my best to make it better!

-your diamond <3

[comicaurora]

One thing I noticed is ever since MAWSM came out is how people in discussions have been decreasingly calling Clark "Superman" and now almost exclusively refer to him with his real name. Yeah, of course. He is Clark first and foremost. The farmboy from Smallville, Kansas; reporter at the Daily Planet. Superman is an extension of Clark. He's not like the other dude whose hero persona is his core identity. He's just a normal guy at heart who happens to be indestructible. He's just... Clark.

I think it's because until My Adventures With Superman, his primary cartoon presence was in series that were overtly superhero shows with threat-of-the-week formats, where Clark's life was the two-minute framing sequence around Superman getting to do the good stuff. Even the original Fleischer superman cartoon was ten-minute shorts that couldn't afford to go slice-of-life when they could be animating Superman punching a hole in a jet.

There have been little moments that hinted at this in other series - the Justice League episode Comfort and Joy springs to mind, being one of the only downtime episodes the team gets, where J'onn sees Clark back home on the farm with Ma and Pa Kent and is surprised at how relaxed and genuine he is when he isn't "working", aka "being superman." But for the most part Clark doesn't get that kind of personal focus, and the seasons that center on him are entirely about Superman's villains and the risk of Superman becoming a despot like his Justice Lord counterpart.

Live-action shows have been a little better about this, if only because of the SFX requirements of superman meaning it's cheaper and simpler to lean into Hometown Hero Clark Kent, exemplified in the series Smallville, which had an actual development policy that Clark was never allowed to put on the cape or costume. It started as teen drama where the protagonist just happened to have superpowers and a weird allergy to green rocks, and for a while it even had a similar gimmick to MAWS, where every other episode he developed a new power or discovered a new trait of his physiology that the audience was already expected to know about. But the problem there is that the audience also has the biggest point of dramatic irony hanging over their heads for the entire show - we know Clark's destiny is to become Superman. So while the show is ABOUT Clark, there's this tonal undercurrent that most of the messy things that make him Clark are things he'll eventually outgrow.

I think what's making My Adventures With Superman work is that it's (a) deeply sincere and (b) centered on the thesis that Clark is an emotional, vulnerable person AND ALSO a flying invulnerable brick with laser eyes, and his stress over his powers isn't just "aw it's tough to be a god now put on the tights already" but it's the very reasonable "I don't know why I'm like this, I don't understand what it means or if it's dangerous, I can't stop breaking the things I touch but I don't want to be alone."

Clark's isolation has always been something other characters muse about privately (usually Batman) or a bit of fridge logic he turns into a cool boast (the World of Cardboard speech reframing every fight he's ever been in by telling the audience he is 100% pulling his punches ALL THE TIME) but to my knowledge it's never been played for this deeply impactful and HIGHLY resonant "there is Something Wrong With Me that I don't have a name for but I will regardless find a way to live with myself and the people I love."

When Superman is framed as Clark's inevitable destiny, we lose sight of the fact that Clark is, by necessity, the kind of person who would create Superman.

[svp3rrn0va]

The Artist & The Muse (NSFW)

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

Summary: MC is an aspiring artist. She talks to her close friend, Sebastian, about her hobby and how she wants to practice painting anatomy. He offers to be her nude model, and MC can't help but admire his body in more ways than one.

Warnings: 18+, aged up characters, explicit sexual content, body worship, foreplay, oral m!rec, unprotected sex, praise kink

Word Count: 4,748

You sigh as you struggle to focus on your book amidst the chatter of your peers around you. Out of anywhere you could've chosen to read, you chose the fountain in the literal epicenter of the castle. Central Hall seemed to be absolutely packed at any point of the day before curfew. It doesn't help that the content you're trying to read is already a bit confusing for you.

To your left, there is a group of friends cheering for a 2nd-year Gryffindor as he walks up the wall. Any moment now, you think to yourself. Just then, as if he'd read your mind, he falls to the floor with a shriek. Thankfully for him, one of his friends cast a charm so he wouldn't hit the hard floor below him.

They all began to laugh really loudly, and that was your last straw. Just as you were about to turn to them and scold them for picking such a crowded area to do something so dangerous, your friend Sebastian Sallow approaches you and sits beside you on the fountain with a smile. You give him a sigh that means "oh, hello."

"What are you reading?" he asks, his head pointing toward your book.

"It's an art book," you reply, closing it and placing it in your lap. "Although I can't get much reading done with all this noise."

Sebastian chuckles. "You're surprised you can't pay attention to your book in Central Hall?" You roll your eyes.

"Also, I didn't know you were into art."

"Yes," you say with a hint of shyness. "I paint, actually."

Sebastian's eyes light up. "You paint? I can't believe you've never told me this before!"

He was right. It was a rather ridiculous notion that you kept something like that from him. You actually kept that from a lot of people. Not because painting is such an embarrassing hobby, but because you're still learning, and you haven't felt ready to show your work to people yet. You've always had a tendency to be hard on yourself.

"Here and there I do; I don't really take it that seriously." That was a lie. Of course you see yourself having a career within the wizarding world, but you would also like to have a career as an artist in the muggle world, perhaps under an alias.

"Even so, I bet you're really good at it. You're good at everything." Sebastian says with a smile.

You scoff. "You're only saying that to be nice."

"No, I mean it! You're the smartest person I know, besides me, of course," he smirks.

You scoff and nudge his arm playfully, and you stand up. "On that note, I'm going to go to my room and read where it's peaceful."

Sebastian quickly stands up as well. "Your room? Your room of requirement? Is that where you paint?" You sigh, and Sebastian acts like a kid in a candy store. "I bet it is! I want to see them."

"You want to see my paintings?" you ask.

"Of course! You can't tell me that you paint and not expect me to want to see them."

You swallow, and you feel your nerves building up. You've never shown anyone outside your family your paintings.

"You're not going to let this go until I show you, will you?" you ask, already knowing his answer. Sebastian shakes his head, and you sigh. "Fine. But don't laugh at me. They aren't great."

"That's subjective. Besides, even if I were to not think they're great, I want to support you regardless. That's what friends are for, anyway." He says softly.

You smile, feeling touched by his words, and it makes you feel more relaxed.

***

You open the door to your room of requirement and Sebastian looks around in amazement. The room is quite large, and you've made yourself a nice, personal space. You've got a large bed, a large desk for your assignments, massive bookshelves filled with books, potting tables, and of course, your painting area with everything you'd need.

"Wow, if this were my room of requirement, I'd never leave," he says, taking a seat on the sofa by the fireplace.

"What's in your room of requirement?" you ask.

"I don't have one. I just spend all my alone time in the Undercroft."

You laugh, not understanding how he could choose a room like that over a room where he could have absolutely anything he wanted. Sebastian turns around on the sofa and looks toward your painting station, his smile dropping when he sees that the only visible canvas is blank.

"I thought you had paintings in here," he said with a hint of disappointment in his voice.

"I do," you say as you walk towards the bed. You open up the chest at the foot of the bed. "They're in here."

Sebastian quickly gets up and walks over to you, peering inside the chest to see three canvases facing down.

"May I?" he asks, looking up at you as he leans down to grab them.

You nod and take a deep breath as he pulls the canvases out of the chest and looks through them.

One is of the Scottish coast, with beautiful cliffs overlooking the sea. The second is a view of the night sky from what appears to be the observation deck in the astronomy tower. The third is your cat lying on your windowsill, looking at sheep passing by in the fields outside.

You chew on your lip as you watch Sebastian's face, trying to decipher from his expression whether he likes the paintings or not. It's a bit hard to tell, and he's silent. You begin to get antsy.

"Well?" you ask impatiently.

"These are-" he begins before once again going quiet as he keeps alternating between the paintings. You groan.

"Do you have to be so dramatic? Please tell me what you think!"

"Oh, I'm sorry," Sebastian says, snapping out of his trance. "I'm just speechless. These are amazing! I can't believe you said they aren't great!"

You raise your eyebrows. "Really? You think so?"

"Of course! I'm not a painter, so I can't use technical terms, but you're very good at blending the gradients in the sky, and the water in this one, just look at the way you did the bubbles on the crashing waves! You're really underestimating yourself."

You can't help but smile, and you look at the floor, blushing. "Thank you, Sebastian. That means a lot."

"You should be proud, really," he says as he gently places the canvases back into the chest. "What art book were you reading, exactly? Judging by these paintings, you shouldn't have much more to learn. You're already great."

"Alright, alright, you're flattering me too much now," you laugh. "It was an anatomy book. I've had enough practice painting landscapes and animals; I don't have enough practice painting humans."

"Well, why not just try doing it instead of trying to learn from a book first?" he asked.

"That's the thing," you say, and you feel your face getting warm. "I could handle painting people with clothes on, but I've always been inspired by art from the Italian Renaissance. I'd like to recreate that style."

"Well? What's wrong with that?"

"A lot of famous paintings from that time depict nude people," you bluntly reply.

"Oh," Sebastian says, clearing his throat. "You want to do a nude painting?"

"I'd like to try and make a painting in that style, yes," you chuckle nervously. "I just would like to get a hang of human anatomy before I even attempt to recreate a Renaissance piece. But asking someone to pose for that is-"

"I'll do it."

You weren't sure if you heard him correctly. "You what?"

"I said I'll do it." He has to be joking, right? But he looks completely serious and doesn't look unsure at all.

"You'll... you'll pose nude for me?" you ask, whispering the last few words as though someone can hear.

"Why not? We're close; I trust you. And I'd be honoured to help you get some practice. Unless you'd prefer to paint a female body."

"No, no, it doesn't matter to me. But are you sure?"

"I wouldn't have mentioned it if I wasn't," he shrugs.

You stand there and sigh, still surprised by Sebastian's sudden offer. Despite his offering, you don't want to put him in an awkward situation, but it also saves you from any future awkward situations of finding someone to pose nude for you.

"If you're comfortable with it, then alright. We've got time before class, so we could do a bit now, if you'd like." You say.

"I don't mind," he says, looking around the room. "Where would you like me to be?"

"You can be on the bed so you're on a soft surface." You grab your easel and blank canvas along with a chair, and you move them both across from the bed. "And I will be here."

Sebastian nods, and you make your way back to the table to gather all of your brushes and paints to use for the canvas. You grab your mug, and with a quick cast of Aguamenti, you've got a full water mug ready for you to clean your brushes.

When you turn around and catch sight of Sebastian, you nearly drop everything in your hands when you see he's already fully naked, standing by the bed.

"Are you alright?" he asks, chuckling.

"Sorry," Your face was burning hot at this point. You clear your throat. "I just didn't expect you to get undressed so quickly."

"I didn't mean to shock you," he says, looking at the bed. "How would you like me to pose?"

"Erm," you hesitate as you try your best to keep your eyes on his and not focus on his lower region. "You can lay on your side with your hand resting on your head, one leg propped up? That way I can see... erm... everything."

Sebastian nods and climbs onto the bed, getting into the pose you asked him to. You place all your paints and brushes in front of you, trying to ignore the blood in your cheeks and your heartbeat. You've seen a man naked before, but you've known Sebastian for a long time and had never been intimate with him, so you weren't sure how to feel.

"How's this?" he asks. You look to the bed, and he's laying in the correct pose, although his leg was tilted a bit downward, so you couldn't see his privates well.

"That's alright, but if you lift your leg up a bit more, then it's perfect."

He listens. He lifts up his leg so his knee's pointed directly towards the ceiling, and you see it. Your breath stops for a few seconds.

It's quite... big. Thick, but not too thick. It's more long than thick. You quickly peel your eyes away to not make him think you're staring. You begin to paint his head, and you notice your hand is shaking. You shut your eyes and clear your throat again to try to clear your thoughts.

"Are you comfortable like that?" you ask, trying to make conversation and feel more relaxed.

"I am," he responds casually. "This room is amazing. It conjured up a much cozier bed than what we've got in all the dorms!"

"I know," you reply. "I actually don't sleep in it much, though."

"Well, you should," he says. "I reckon you'd be the most well-rested person in the castle!" He moves his arm and head a lot as he speaks, making you struggle.

"Try not to move too much," you instruct him. He nods, quietly apologising.

You begin painting his lips, and you try to focus on his face, but it's very difficult. Your eyes have a mind of their own, and they keep trailing down to his length. You swallow hard as the light from the fireplace allows you to clearly see, even from that distance, the veins along it.

Sebastian seems to be unaware of your attention as he looks around the room while you paint.

It's no secret that Sebastian is a very attractive man. You and many other girls in the castle can agree on that. However, the fact that he feels comfortable enough with his body to agree to do this for you somehow makes him much more attractive to you.

You admittedly feel a bit entranced by him in this moment. You've never felt this way for him, so it's a surprise. In fact, you're so entranced that you almost didn't notice the heat from your cheeks sinking to your lower region as well.

No. No, now is not the time for this, you think to yourself. As you feel the heat turning into a slight throb, you clench your thighs together, trying to get the feeling to go away. You somehow manage to finish his head and hair, and it looks good.

As you begin to paint his torso, that's when you notice how toned he is, and how his freckles aren't just on his face. You begin to sweat, and the throbbing you feel doesn't get any better. You feel it even more this time. You gently take your hand and place it in between your thighs, closing them around it.

You shift in your seat and Sebastian turns his attention towards you.

"Are you alright?" he asks, his eyebrow raised.

You struggle to find words, and you quickly nod your head as you chew nervously on your bottom lip.

Sebastian begins to eye you as you insist on keeping your attention on your canvas. He sees your hand between your thighs and your fingers digging into the skin of one of them. When he looks up at your face, he can see how red your cheeks are and how aggressively you're chewing your lip.

"No really, are you alright? You seem flustered-"

"I'm fine, Sebastian," you snap. Unbeknownst to you, Sebastian knows better. He can tell by the way you can't sit still. He can tell by the way you're clawing at your skin. He can tell by the red of your cheeks. You're turned on, and he knows it. He just chooses to play coy.

You begin to paint his beautifully broad shoulders. Merlin, these intrusive thoughts. Get out of here! You almost don't want to look at him again, but you have to. As you take another look at Sebastian, your eyes quickly dart down to his length once again, and that's when you notice it.

He's getting hard.

You immediately stand up and start putting everything away.

"I'm sorry, this wasn't really a good idea. I really appreciate you offering to help, though," you say, almost too quick for him to understand.

"What? What's wrong?" Sebastian asks, getting out of his pose and sitting upright.

"This just feels too wrong. I didn't want there to be tension, I thought this would just be-"

"Tension?" he asks again, looking down to notice the obvious tension as well. "Oh shit."

You put away the easel and chair and begin to nervously pace.

"Again I appreciate you doing this for me but I'll just look for another model. Just put your clothes back on and we can act like this didn't happen, alright? I'll see you in class." You try to rush out of the room when you feel Sebastian grab your wrist.

You turn around in surprise as you didn't even notice him get up from the bed and walk towards you in your frantic state. You look down at all his glory once again before meeting his gaze.

"There's nothing wrong with it if you like what you see, you know," he says, his voice lowered. Your breathing speeds up.

"I-I don't know what- what you mean," you stammer.

"I've known you for a while," he smirks. "You've never been discreet, and you certainly aren't now."

He keeps his eyes fixed on you, and you can't pull yours away.

"Tell me what's on your mind." He licks his lips and you can practically hear your heartbeat in your ears.

"Y- your body," you say so quietly it's almost a whisper.

"What about it?" he asks softly.

"It's so beautiful."

"Beautiful in an artistic way? Like you want to paint it?" he asks, his eyebrows raised. You can tell that he is trying to get more out of you.

You hesitate and lick your lips before answering. "Yes, but, not just paint it."

"What else?" he whispers, and you can't help but whimper slightly at his voice.

"I want to touch it," your eyes begin to trail down his body again. "And kiss it..."

Sebastian, still holding onto your wrist, gently brings your hand up to his chest. You shiver as you touch his skin and he slides your hand down his torso.

"You mean like this?" He asks. You nod.

"And you want to kiss it?" He asks again. You nod again.

He chuckles and he interlocks his fingers with yours. He takes his other hand and places it behind your neck, pulling you in and crashing his lips to yours. As soon as your lips touch, you feel all of your nerves go away. All you want is him.

You run your hand through his hair and moan into his mouth. He smiles against your lips and waits for you to open your mouth just a little before he adds his tongue.

You pull away from the kiss with a gentle bite of his lower lip. He looks at you with nothing but lust in his eyes. Then you lean in and kiss his jawline, down to his neck.

A soft "mmm" comes from Sebastian and you smile as your kisses travel lower down to his collarbone all the way to his bellybutton.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted this," Sebastian growls.

You're on your knees at this point, and you look up at him with a look of surprise at his words. You had no idea Sebastian felt that way about you, but you weren't complaining.

"I think I have an idea," you reply, eyeing his erection in front of you.

"May I?" You repeat his question from earlier as you guide your hand towards his cock, glancing at him for permission. He nods and you place your hand on it, swirling your thumb around his shaft.

Sebastian hisses and you smile, before leaning forward and licking his tip as you begin to pump his dick with your hand.

"Oh god," he groans, throwing his head back. "That's perfect." He grabs onto your hair as you start bobbing up and down on his cock, pumping the rest with your hand.

You aren't quiet either. You make sure to slurp and gag as you take his length as far back into your throat as you can. He obviously loves it, too, as his legs shake and he moans with each gag.

"God damn, is there anything you're not good at?" Sebastian asks as his voice cracks, an indication to you that he may not last much longer.

You begin to massage his balls and he tugs harder on your hair. As you suck him off, you gradually use more tongue, and you can just feel his veins against your tongue from how prominent they are, and you love it.

"You're gonna make me cum," he whimpers. "Do you want to swallow it?"

"Mm-hmm," you reply, not taking your mouth off him. Anxious for his release, you begin to pick up the pace, just as he begins to thrust himself into your mouth. At this point your pussy is throbbing like crazy, and you take your hand from his balls to try to rub yourself through your underwear. Unfortunately, the hem of your pants are too tight.

"Oh that feels so good," he moans, and with one final thrust, you feel his cock twitch and he releases his load into your throat.

You giggle with satisfaction as the warm liquid fills your mouth. Once he pulls away, you swallow as if you've just had a nice, refreshing glass of water.

"Come here," Sebastian says as he takes your wrist again and pulls you to your feet, pulling you into another passionate kiss. You two begin to walk backwards while you kiss, not paying much attention to where you're going.

Next thing you know you collide with your painting table, and you press your hand onto something wet. You turn around and begin to laugh as you notice your hand landed directly on your painting palette.

"Oh, I'm sorry," says Sebastian, laughing as well.

"That's alright." You place your paint covered hand on his cheek and kiss him again, his eyes widening.

"Hey!" He exclaims against your mouth. You pull away and giggle once again as you see a handprint on the side of his face. Then an idea comes into your head.

Sebastian watches in confusion as you put both hands on the painting palette. You turn around, biting your lip as you slide your hands down his body, covering him in paint.

"What is this?" he grins.

"You're my art project," you laugh. "And I just want to keep touching you."

"It's my turn to touch you now," he growls. He begins to undo your pants, and you arch your back off the table so it's easier for him to pull them down.

He removes your pants and to your surprise, you've gotten so wet, you can see it through your underwear.

"And you tried to be discreet," he says with a smirk. "Tsk tsk tsk."

He slides one finger along your cloth covered slit and you gasp. You prop one leg up on the chair beside you to give him better access.

"Oh, we're eager, aren't we?" he whispers right next to your ear. You shiver. "You're soaking wet."

He presses his finger up against your clit through your underwear, almost to tease you. You whimper in desperation, and he grins again as he begins to rub. "What's wrong? You want me to touch you directly?"

You nod. "Please," you whisper. "Please touch my pussy."

With a bite of his lip, he hooks one finger through the hem of your underwear and slides it down towards your knees.

"Just look at that pussy," he says, admiring you. "I can't imagine what you've got under the rest of those clothes."

He begins to rub circles on your clit and you place one hand behind his neck to stabilise yourself. His fingers are cold, and it feels so good against your pussy that you shudder.

Sebastian leans in to kiss you again. He then drags his lower lip along your ear and places a gentle kiss on it. "So fucking good," he says. "So talented, you are. So smart, too, and so fucking beautiful." He rubs your clit even faster and your head falls onto his shoulder.

"Even better at sucking my cock, and I know you'll be great at taking it in that beautiful pussy of yours, too." His words are sending you closer to the edge. "I bet you're so fucking tight."

"Sebastian," you choke out. "Don't stop." You begin to grind your hips against his finger and he chuckles.

"Yes, grind those hips. You're making me hard all over again." You watch as his cock begins to grow once again, already prepared for you. You moan at the sight, and your desperation to feel it inside of you makes you finish.

Your legs shake wildly and you fall back against the table as you cum. Sebastian slows his rubbing, and he sighs in satisfaction as he watches your delicious juices drip from your pussy lips as you finish your release. Once you're done, he licks his finger as if he's licking chocolate frosting off of it.

"So sweet," he smirks.

You're getting impatient now, and without a word you begin to strip your blouse off, and Sebastian watches you with complete lust in his eyes. As you begin to take off your corset, you struggle a bit and he helps you.

He undoes the last button and your corset falls to the floor. You turn around to face him and his jaw drops. He gently places his hands on your waist, and caresses up and down your torso. Sebastian moans softly as he runs his hands over your breasts, spreading his middle and index fingers apart as he passes by your nipples.

"And you said my body was beautiful," he gawks. "Look at you. Just fucking exquisite. You should paint yourself. This is real art."

His sweet words drive you crazy and you crash your lips against his once again. He kisses you back with somehow even more passion this time. He's got paint all over him now, but you absolutely love it. You jump up and wrap your legs around his waist.

He wraps his arms around you, getting paint on you now as well, but you don't care. Sebastian takes you to the bed and drops you on it. He grabs each of your ankles and pulls you towards him as he remains standing.

"I wish you could see yourself from this view," he says.

"Well I'm satisfied with mine, as well," you reply.

He lets go of one of your ankles to position himself at your slit, and you begin to drop your leg. He quickly grabs it again and lifts it back up. "Keep your legs up," he instructs.

You begin to say "alright", but you're cut off by your own moan as he pushes himself into you. Since he isn't too thick, he's able to slide into you quite easily, but he's just the right girth that it feels fucking amazing.

"Your pussy feels incredible," he sighs, as he begins to softly thrust in and out of you.

You watch his face, and you admire how gorgeous his expressions are. The way he shuts his eyes, and raises his brows, and slightly opens his mouth. You wish you could see him like this all the time.

"You can go faster," you tell him. And just like that, he thrusts faster and harder. You both moan in unison and his grip on your ankles tightens. "Fuck, Sebastian, that feels so good."

"God, I- I can't," he breathes as he lets go of your ankles and collapses on top of you, not hurting you, and he continues his thrusting. You wrap your legs around his waist again.

Sebastian rests his head in the crook of your neck, and places his hand on your other cheek. "You're fucking perfect," he says.

You lift his head up so his eyes meet yours and you kiss him, this time it being a romantic, tender kiss. You press your legs tighter on his waist, pushing him closer to you so his cock hits you even deeper.

Sebastian's cock is hitting your g-spot just right, and you can feel your orgasm approaching quickly. You begin to rub your clit just as you feel Sebastian's thrusts slowing down just a hair, and you know he's getting close, too.

"I'm close," he whispers. "Do you want me to cum inside you?"

You think for a moment, and you nod your head.

You tug on his hair and you begin to kiss his neck. He moans and that little sound makes you fall apart. Your legs close around him tightly and as your walls begin to clench on his cock, he loses it. He groans, and right when you expect him to shoot his load inside of you, he quickly pulls out and cums all over your stomach.

He chuckles, and you look up at him with a look of both confusion and disappointment.

"Now you're my art project," he laughs, and you can't help but roll your eyes.

Sebastian falls back onto the bed next to you. "Look at us," he says. "We're a mess."

"I can always conjure up a bathtub," you reply. "By the way, you're not going to be my nude model again."

Sebastian sits up with a frown. "Why not?"

"Are you joking? I'll never get any practice done with you! You've distracted me!"

"You say that like it was a bad distraction." he chuckles.

You can't help but laugh, too, because it's true. You look up at him with a smirk. "You do make a good canvas, though."

[otdiaftg]

The King's Men - Chapter Four

Day: Tuesday, January 9th Time: 10:25 PM EST

"I'm not a striker by choice, either," he said. "I was a backliner in little leagues. Riko remembers because I scrimmaged with him and Kevin. He made me play defense with his Ravens over Christmas." That finally got Andrew to lower his arm. "Little leagues, he says. I distinctly remember you telling people you learned to play in Millport." "Partial truth," Neil said. "I knew how to play Exy. I just didn't know how to play offense. I didn't want to be a striker, but Coach Hernandez didn't have any room on his defense line. It was striker or nothing, and I wanted to play too badly to walk away. Now I can't imagine playing anything else." Andrew said nothing for a while, then, "You're more a raccoon than a fox." Neil stared. "What?" "A raccoon," Andrew said, and mimed holding a ball in front of his face. "Exy is the shiny object of your sad little world. You know you're being hunted and you know the hounds are closing in, but you won't let go to save yourself. You once told me you don't understand why a person would actively try to die, but here you are. I guess that was another lie." "I'm not trying to die," Neil said. "This is how I stay alive. When I'm playing, I feel like I have control over something. I feel like I have the power to change things. I feel more real out there than I do anywhere else. The court doesn't care what my name is or where I'm from or where I'll be tomorrow. It lets me exist as I am." "It is a court," Andrew said. "It does not 'let' you do anything." "You know what I mean." "I don't." "Because you don't have anything, do you?" Neil said in quiet challenge. "Nothing gets to you like that. Nothing gets under your skin." "He catches on at last," Andrew mused. "It only took him a year." "What are you afraid of?" "Heights." "Andrew." "If you make Kevin come looking for you, you will regret it."

Art used with permission by Emry-Stars-Art. Thank you @emry-stars-art!

[fictionadventurer]

I don't know why this feels like such a revelation, but after watching the latest Moffat episode of Doctor Who, it clicked for me that the core difference between RTD and Moffat Who is that to RTD, the Doctor is God (or a metaphorical substitute for God), while Moffat's Doctor is a man in need of God.

Like, it's obvious RTD deifies the Doctor. The imagery is not subtle. And Moffat's Doctor is obviously a much more fallible man. But I hadn't fully considered how this affects the kinds of stories they tell.

In RTD's Who, the Doctor is someone who comes into a mundane human existence and gives it meaning. An encounter with the Doctor changes your life forever. You would follow him to the end of the universe if he asked, because life with him is infinitely better than life without him. Humans who try to reach the Doctor's level are struck down, because mere mortals cannot rise to the level of godhood. From a Christian perspective, this offers valid storytelling possibilities ("Human Nature/The Family of Blood", with its musings upon the Incarnation, fits perfectly in this era), but it does have the Doctor standing in the place of God, which suggests that the universe of RTD's worldview doesn't have one and needs the Doctor to fill that gap.

In Moffat's Who, on the other hand, the Doctor is a wondrous, impossible, legendary being--but still just a man. He can guide you through some of the best or most terrifying moments of your life--but your life has meaning outside of him. His companions learn over and over again the perils of relying on him too completely. Ordinary people can be just as good--or better--than him, because the Doctor is just another man, growing and changing and trying to find his place in the universe.

Moffat's Doctor is extremely aware that he's in a story--and he is not the author. In "The Doctor Dances" he is aware of how death-filled his stories usually are, and is ecstatically grateful when he is permitted a story where everybody lives. In "Blink", he and Sally are both following a script--but neither one of them wrote it; though they have free will, this story came from outside of them. Of course, these are examples of Moffat's meta exploration of storytelling--but the fact remains that his Doctor exists in a world where there is a greater force that runs everything.

And the Doctor resists this. He remains skeptical, arrogant, independent--but he is always searching for something more.

All this crystallized when watching "Boom". There, the Doctor is facing soldiers in a religious war, and he sneers that they didn't notice anything fishy because they "had faith, which keeps you from ever having to think for yourself." Those are the brutal words of every hackneyed internet atheist, and since the soldiers were wrong to have faith in this war, it seems like the story's saying the Doctor's right, and religion's just the "opiate of the masses".

And yet.

The episode ends with the Doctor telling a little girl to hold onto faith, and when the religious character points out that the Doctor was stridently against faith, the Doctor replies, "Just because I don't like it doesn't mean I don't need it."

Isn't that the Christian experience in a nutshell? How many of us are tempted to think that life would be so much easier if we didn't follow God? And yet we can't leave it aside because we need God. We need meaning outside ourselves, and life with God is better than life without him.

But this isn't the Whedon-ish universe where it doesn't matter if it's true so long as believing does something good for you. There is objective truth, and the Doctor is aware of it. He is aware that love is the most powerful force in the universe. (God is love). He is aware that everyone and everything dies, yet knows that something lingers on. (God is stronger than death). The Doctor is in a world where God exists, and even if he (or his writer) doesn't know it, he needs him, is searching for him, and to some extent, believes in him, because he can't deny these truths that he's seen. And I cannot get over how many different ways Moffat has been exploring these themes all these years.