#But my spice is words more than pictures

[changingplumbob]

Random Ramblings

I've got to go out today so my reply to SQOTD will be coming later, not because I don't love you, but because I love too many of you to do the response justice in the brief time I have before needing to get the bus.

Also I wrote a spicy woohoo scene last night and I'm looking back on it this morning and wondering if tumblr will tell me off... Descriptors below, please let me know if you think flagging will or won't happen!

First up yes my writing is mostly G/PG but my adult sims have needs and occasionally they and I are feeling it at the same time and an intimate scene emerges. I promise I tag these posts.

So the screenshots do not show any nipples (wow I didn't even capture male nipples, weird) or genitalia. The sims are naked but I don't show any part of them below their shoulders.

The spice is in the words and I'm not sure how tumblr goes about filtering or flagging that. Because I don't want my blog to be marked as mature. But my sims do get it on. Example sentences below (and hey I could well edit these if this post gets marked as mature so don't go getting attached) obviously NSFW.

REDACTED: -sure you didn’t imagine me, under you, squirming away

REDACTED: -odd that you never imagined my mouth around you considering how much the idea ran through my mind

Then we have several broken sentences featuring the words: suck, touch, mouth, hands, with several mhmm's and *kisses*

So do we think it'll fly or will tumblr give me a time out if I try to post it?

[idiopathicsmile]

School Gymnastics: A Tragicomedy

So one day when we were in third grade, our P.E. teacher divided us into girls and boys. (I don’t remember what the boys had to do. Wrestling? Tackle football? I don’t know, probably not at age nine, but that’s not the point. Gladiatorial combat? I still don’t really understand kids’ sports.)

What matters for this story is that all the girls had to do gymnastics. Now—and I suspect this won’t surprise you if you know literally anything about me—I was always terrible at any form of school athletics. I am intensely, almost impressively uncoordinated. This doesn’t affect my life much at 36, but it was often a miserable way to be a kid. The only playground game I liked was playing pretend, because when you are playing pretend, you don’t have a bunch of people ostensibly on your side screaming in your ear, “Pretend faster! Pretend over there! Pretend with greater accuracy!”

Anyway, gymnastics and my clumsy, doughy little body. I couldn’t do a cartwheel. I couldn’t do a backwards somersault. I couldn't do any of it. We had an entire unit on this business and I literally did not learn how to even safely attempt a single move besides the log roll (lie flat and roll sideways on your belly). In retrospect, this seems like maybe it was in part a teaching problem, not a me problem, but that’s actually not the point either.

The point is, at the end of the unit, we were told to divide ourselves into little teams and choreograph a group gymnastics routine. My group, faced with my long list of limitations (more limitation than girl, really) decide my role will be to just forwards-somersault around the rest of the group as they do their moves. (This is itself kind of embarrassing but trust me, it is but the appetizer.) My friend Ashley has the Lion King soundtrack and we all agree that it is a great choice. The movie has only come out a couple of years earlier, and it of course features some funny, peppy options. 'Hakuna Matata'? 'I Just Can't Wait to Be King'? It's all coming together.

Carried on a wave of youthful enthusiasm, none of us even think to double-check which track Ashley has picked. Foreshadowing!

So the day of the performance comes. Another group goes right before us. They had picked “Wannabe” by the Spice Girls, which was a huge hit at the time. I mean, it still is because it’s a classic, but then it was big and new. They step onto the mat and immediately begin to do choreographed dance moves, which they have worked into their routine. We had not thought of this. Oops. Dance moves, of course! So they incorporate the necessary gymnastics, it goes over really well, the energy is high, and now it’s my group’s turn.

I take my place at the edge of the mat, the mat we are required to stay on for the length of the piece. Ashley cues up the track she’d chosen.

A song starts up. Instantly, I recognize it from the movie. It is the very slow instrumental music that plays when Simba realizes his dad is dead.

‘Well, this is not optimal,’ I think. I've been on this planet for nine years; I can see that much. But it’s too late to change the track, and so I tell myself, ‘It’s okay. I’m a performer. I can sell this.’ I put on an extremely solemn face and begin to execute a series of the world’s saddest somersaults.

Friends, when I say “sad” I mean it, in every possible sense of the word. Picture a nine year old with the gravest possible affect, determinedly doing somersaults to the slowest, most serious music she can imagine, in a careful ring around her friends who have actually learned any gymnastics whatsoever. Okay, now as the music starts to pick up and get more hopeful, imagine she gets real dizzy and in front of everyone, she rolls all the way directly off the mat, careening dangerously towards the assembled students.

Somehow, I roll myself back onto the mat, we survive what feels like hours of humiliation, we stagger away, and I blessedly avoid adding “puking my guts out in front of all of my peers” to my very short list of gymnastics tricks.

Later, I asked Ashley what in the world possessed her to choose that song.

“It didn’t have any words,” she said.

(There was absolutely no rule against using songs that had lyrics.)

Anyway, that’s why being an adult is better than being a kid.

I may have to do laundry and make my own dinner and wrestle with more complex existential angst, but you know what I haven’t been asked to do in like 26 years? Somersault for three minutes straight to the musical shorthand for “this cartoon lion cub has no choice but to process the weight of unimaginable grief for his dead dad.” And you know what? If I live another 50 years, I can be pretty confident nobody will ask me to do it then, either.

[lalunanymph]

TOAST TO CLICHES IN A DARK PAST

not even another man's ring on your finger can stop sylus from taking what's rightfully his

warnings: fem!reader, ex-boyfriend sylus, toxic!sylus, mean!sylus, reader is engaged 🤭, cheating, oral s/ex, unprotected s/ex, collars, possessiveness, blank and ageless blogs dni

dawn says: i wrote this with one hand can you tell.... ALSO surprise at the end wbjwhjdkf ;)

“Hey, it’s me.” You can almost picture the scowl on his perfect features. “Let me in.” If patience was a virtue, waiting for another moment must be his vice.

Another sharp rap on the door shatters your peaceful evening. 

“Y/N, I’m here for my things. Open the door.” 

You decide it’s either now or never to get this over with him. 

Standing from the couch, you muster the scariest scowl you can plaster on and answer the door. “I heard you for the first time.” 

Right at your threshold, a 6 feet 2 menace stands clad in his sweatpants and compression black shirt, biker jacket hanging from his tall frame, those vermillion eyes raking up and down your figure, suddenly making you feel too self-conscious. 

You’re in a pair of gray shorts and a tank top, nothing too fancy or scandalous, yet there’s a pressing heat behind his gaze which makes your skin flush like you’re presenting yourself before him in a risque piece of lingerie.

Your mouth curls around his name like it's a cud you can’t wait to spit out. “Sylus.”

He tips his head forward. “Y/N.”

The both of you don’t say a word, and you feel much too exposed. Anyone could pass by and see you speaking to him. The ring on your finger is heavy, and you subconsciously hide it behind your back, not wanting him to see it and comment.

“Nice rock.” Too late. Your scowl deepens and you huff a sigh. 

“You said you forgot your insurance file? That’s not like you.” The sneer that carves your face is nothing in comparison to his smirk.

“I’m here for it and nothing else,” he clarifies, sweeping his gaze over you as he sweeps past you. “Don’t you hope for anything else.”

“Wh—hey,” you trail after him, spluttering indignantly. It’s just like your ex-boyfriend to walk in and claim the space as his own; large build and larger than life personality swallowing all the air in your lungs and in this room. 

He plants his hands on his hips, surveying the newly decorated living room with cool distaste. “Looks like your plan to scrub me clean from your life worked, sweetie,” the nickname drips from his lips with condescension. “It’s so… clinical.”

He’s mocking you. Heat rushes to your cheeks, and your hands clench to fists by your side.

“We love the combination of gray and white,” you say past gritted teeth. “The red-black abomination you had going on was an absolute eyesore.”

“Oh,” he flickers his gaze back to you, completely disinterested. “I see. I guess you didn’t just get engaged to some random schmuck to get back at me.”

The ring around your finger is heavy enough, tempting you to smash it through his mouth. You scoff. 

“You’ve never changed, Sylus. Always mean—always a loser.”

With a single word, you find yourself pushed against the wall, your ex towering over you. The smell of his rich leather and spiced cologne swims in your head, driving you dizzy. Heat engulfs you as his arms come up on either side of your head.

“You know how this works, sweetie,” his smooth, rich tone bathes you in that blessed timber, making a shiver crawl up your spine. “We fight, we break up. You text me, I come over and—”

He’s much too close. Too overwhelming. 

Sylus waits for you to finish his sentence.

“Come on now, kitten,” he purrs. “What is it we do whenever you come crawling back to me?” 

You refuse to answer him, despite the ache spreading right at your core. You huff and turn your face to the side, finding refuge from those searing darkened eyes.

“You can’t do this to me anymore, Sylus. I feel nothing for you.”

“Nothing, huh?” If there’s one thing your ex loves more than this toxic rollercoaster you want no part of anymore, it’s the challenge of getting you back on it. 

“I’m engaged,” you emphasize, a sinking realization of this mistake washing over you. You should’ve never allowed him to come back. 

“This flimsy thing?” He plucks your left hand from your side, a sneer curling on his mouth. “Two weeks. You thought you could replace me in just two weeks?”

“We were friends—”

“He can’t treat you like me.” With the bold declaration, Sylus grows more audacious. He bends his head forward, eyes close and chest rising—inhaling your sugary vanilla body wash straight from your neck. “Can’t put you in your place like I do, sweetie.”

Your eyes involuntarily flutter shut and Sylus takes this chance to pounce on your jugular. “Where’s my insurance file, sweetie? Do you know?”

Vaguely, you recall seeing it in your bedroom. “It’s in ou—my room.”

Sylus doesn’t comment on the slip up, corners of his lips twitching. “Well? What’re you waiting for? Go get it for me, sweetie.”

Your nostrils flare, anger coursing through you. Does this guy think you’re his maid or something? 

“Go get it yourself.”

With Sylus, everything is a game. A struggle for power. He snorts and turns his gaze to the expensive Rolex on his wrist. “When does he get off?” Your ex’s sneer deepens. 

Knowing who he’s talking about, you match his energy with an eye roll. “In a few hours—”

“Don’t roll your eyes at me.” 

Throughout this little bantering session, Sylus never once lost his cool; calm and teasing like the asshole he usually is. This time a flash of anger sears through his tone and you falter, the repressed heat inside you lifting its head to scent the sticky sweet danger clinging in the air.

Warning, the nerves in your body scream. Stay alert.

You shut the voice down, crossing your arms. “Or, what?” You try to mimic him with one brow raised. “What’re you going to do to me?” 

Sylus doesn’t immediately react. That’s why he’s a risk to deal with—one wrong move and you could go falling back into the wolf’s den. He bides his time, staring at the silver rings adorning his slender fingers, knuckles split and bruised from his love of violence in the ring.

“The sooner you get the file for me, the faster I will get out of your life,” he smoothly interjects. “Unless… you want me?” 

He stands up lightning fast, cornering you again with his staggering presence, making you take one step back. 

You touch your throat on instinct, and Sylus chuckles.

“What? Cat got your tongue, kitten?” The use of your favorite nickname sends a wave of heat rising inside of you, the flush warm and demanding on your cheeks. Sylus doesn’t reach out to touch you, but he doesn’t need to if he wants to turn you on. 

One look. A careless brush against the back of your thigh and you’re aching all over.

“It’s been so long, hasn’t it?” A drop of sympathy colors the waters of his deception, and your shoulders loose their stiff edges, walls coming down a fraction. “No one can do those things to you… make you feel like that…”

He’s speaking in riddles and it’s successfully scrambling your mind.

“Sylus—”

“Turn around.” 

You inadvertently raise the stakes by shaking your head.

“What did you do, kitten?” His voice is smooth, but underneath, there’s a zing of livid distaste. Sylus never likes it when you defy him.

His jaw clenches, but he’s focused on the long game. Sylus hums. “Come on. We shouldn’t waste anymore time. Take me to your bedroom.”

The shivers wrack you tenfold and it’s borderline criminal to bring your ex back into the room where you laid with and fucked your fiance. Electricity crackles in the empty spaces, and you try your best to ignore the current sparking on your tongue. 

“Check under the bed,” Sylus suggests, doing nothing but stand by the wall, arms folded. Expecting you to pull the most weight.

You pause, sending him a look of indignation. “Why’re you ordering me around? You do it.”

Instead of adopting a look of contrition or remembering his manners like any normal person would, your psychopath of an ex shakes his head. He starts to shrug off his jacket; enjoys how wide your eyes become when he removes his shirt and tosses it to the ground.

“Sy—” you hiss, but he interrupts you with a raised brow. 

You turn mute, bunching your fingers together in front of you, a curious part of you wondering what he’ll do next—the depths of depravity he will drag you back into. 

“You don’t get it, do you?” He steps closer and closer, pushing you to the edge of the bed where you have nowhere to escape.

“I know you, sweetie. I can sense when you’re excited. I own you. You want this—you want me.” You drop your gaze, suddenly afraid of him looking into your eyes. Sylus tastes of your impending surrender right on the tip of his tongue. Call him a genius or a madman, but nobody can call him ignorant to his girl’s needs.

“I can give you what you want. What you’re craving for.” It’s too much—his presence, his voice, this smoldering heat. You feel like you’re going to combust. 

Without thinking straight, you press your hands flat on his pecs, trying to push him away, but all it does is make him grab your wrists, locking you in place.

“Don’t,” he warns, velvety smooth with his threats. Your white-haired devil of an ex smirks at your wide eyes, and chuckles. 

“Come on, sweetie,” he leans in closer, gathers both your hands in one of his own and tilts your head up to face him. “Look at me—look at me. Come on. Give me a kiss.”

He coaxes you with a gentle nudge, but it’s enough to send a battering ram through your defenses. The tension—so thick that you can cut it with a knife—comes to a jolting deadend and you have no choice but to give in. 

You fold, parting your lips and Sylus goes in straight for the kill.

Hot kisses devour your soft moans, sending shudders all over your skin as goosebumps erupt everywhere; Sylus kisses you with bruising accuracy, hell bent on getting his revenge. 

No one dares to leave him unless he declares it, and you’ve committed the biggest sin out there by throwing away his love. 

He pries your lips apart, plundering his tongue to tap and caress the roof of your mouth, running the tip over your teeth and twining messily with your own tongue; reducing you to sporadic moans and twitches. Encased in his arms, you feel small and helpless, a prey who has fallen right into her beloved predator’s jaws.

“Come here, sweetie.” Sylus plops himself on the edge of the bed, and brings you right onto his lap. You’re woozy and lightheaded when he starts to paw at your shorts, dragging it down—exposing the sweet white cotton hiding his favorite pussy.

Sylus tugs your panties down unceremoniously, and you barely have time to steel yourself when he murmurs, “How dare you say no to me?” 

A heavy hand lands right on your right cheek, jolting you forward. Your cry is part ecstasy, part pain.

It rebounds around the room, echoing your betrayal when he sends another hard spank on your left cheek, following it up with the right one; white heat engulfs you all over and your ass is on fire. 

“That’s it,” he murmurs. “See, sweetie? You’re wet. You’re leaking alllll over my thigh.” He drags the words and your humiliation out, plunging two thick fingers and dragging them through your folds. Sylus dangles his drenched fingers right in front of you and chuckles.

Something hard pokes your lower belly when he shifts you into a seating position, tilting your face up. The look of hunger he wears unhinges the last of your restraints and this time, you’re the one who tugs him by his hair, smashing your mouth hungrily to his.

The wet smacks and muffled groans of lips on lips. Moans. Bodies on fire. You’re rubbing yourself all over him.

Get on your knees, he orders feverishly, grabbing your hair and pushing you down in between his legs. Suck my cock. Go on, kitten. Suck my cock and make me feel good—you know you want to.

You obey him—of course you do. 

You can never forget the taste of him when he hits your tongue, like musk and man, saturating flavor making your eyes roll back in your head. The dopamine kicks in and Sylus swears he sees little pink hearts right in your eyes when you take him down your entire throat. 

Who is more insane—the psycho, or the one who dares to love him? 

You’ve always been a little loose in the head, but this definitely takes the cake. 

How you’re willing to risk everything—your stable life, your safe home, your fiance’s love—all for a man who plays with you like you’re his favorite toy. 

For a man who will never tell you he loves you or wants to marry you. 

Like he’s reading your thoughts, Sylus gives a strained chuckle. 

“Stop thinking about him. Just focus on me.” 

His abs undulate under your palms, and he eyes the twinkling ring on your finger with distaste. 

One way or another, he’s going to get you to remove it for him someday. 

Until then, he knows the perfect counterpart to that asshole's claim on you.

“Stop.” He pulls you from his throbbing cock, a smidge of pride staining his ego when he sees your swollen lips and the ravenous look in your eye. “Go and get your collar, sweetie.” 

It’s a risk to bring up the one item you didn’t toss into his box of belongings. But, his gamble comes back as a win when your eyes sharpen with want.

“Yeah,” he feeds off your reactions, an incubus desperate for your light. “Yeah, you still have it, don’t you, kitten?” 

The answer is painfully obvious on your face. 

“Why don’t you go and grab it?”

You move with uncertainty, but this time, Sylus allows it. He lets you feel through your emotions, knows the erotic pulse of submission must be tearing you into shreds—warring with your desire to stay faithful to some poor cuck. 

Sylus knows all this because he knows you; knows what you love, what you hate. How you taste at different times of the day. Your favorite flowers, fast food order, your preferred poison on the weekend. The cadences of your breath when you fall asleep in his arms. What your shampoo smells like when it lingers on his sheets.

He is, after all, the best owner you could ask for.

And you’re still obviously, undoubtedly, and painfully in love with him.

Your throat bobs with a hard swallow, but you don’t defy him. He swats your ass with a cheeky spank when you stand and shuffle out of the room.

“Atta girl,” he praises once you come back with your collar in hand. It’s a little dusty, but the leather is still supple. 

Sylus runs his fingers over it, flickering his gaze to you. 

You’re kneeling right between his thighs, head bent, hair gathered in one hand to expose the back of your neck. Waiting for him to reclaim you. 

Sylus doesn’t take such submission lightly.

This collar—proof of his quiet yet powerful devotion and fondness for you—is more of a commitment than that stupid band around your finger could ever be.

It’s his promise to always look out for you. Care for you. Protect you.

Love you.

Though the words don’t dislodge from the grasps of his ego, Sylus has and always will love you.

“That’s my girl,” he whispers, dragging one finger down the nape of your neck. Your shudder makes an unwilling smile curve on his lips, and he snaps the leather collar around your throat, giving it a few good tugs to see how tight it is.

You turn and stretch towards him, planting a soft kiss on his lips as gratitude—a muscle reflex for the many times he’s collared you. 

Sylus deepens the kiss, running his hands through your hair and grabbing a fistful of it, directing you back towards his throbbing, leaky cock.

You lick at a clear bead of precum slipping down, flatten your tongue to run it over your favorite prominent vein. Sylus leans back against his forearms, watching his ex-lover pleasure him on another man’s bed. 

The band around his self-control is slipping, and he can’t hold back a low, drawn out groan when you suckle on the flushed, mushroom tip.

“That’s it,” he grunts, low and commanding. Such a pretty girl you are—make me feel good, kitten. You’re doing so, so well. 

His voice is an aphrodisiac in itself, making you flush hotly. Your core throbs with neglect as you pay full attention to sucking him off, putting his pleasure above yours.

Sylus isn’t stingy with his praises or affections: caressing your hair, patting your cheek, fingering your collar when you get more worked up over sucking him off.

You’re so messy it hurts. 

Drool dripping from the corners of your swollen lips. Precum smeared all over your cheeks. Eyes low and lustful—his personal wet dream came to life.

You’re halfway bobbing your head up and down his slick shaft when he stops you, gestures for you to come back up for air.

In a swift movement, he has you under him, legs tightly wound around his narrow waist; forearms roped with muscles on either side of your head. 

His red eyes bore into yours, watching your reactions with heated attention.

Your gasp as he rips your tank top off, kissing and suckling your plush tits and nibbling on your sensitive nipples until you feel positively ripe for the picking. 

He’s tempted to leave a mark on your neck, but you know him well enough too, and shake your head with a cute little teary, “N-no. Don’t.”

Sylus will let it slide—just this once. 

The warm expanse of your bare skin opens under his palms like the bright evening sky outside. 

He savors your hitched gasp that melts into a sultry groan once he stretches you out with his girthy tip. Another inch, another cry. 

Sylus falls right into your seduction and embrace, bottoming right to the hilt; his hips clip with yours, lips mere inches from your parted ones.

He devours you with hot, open mouth kisses. From your pouty lower lip to your curved cupid’s bow, he traces your mouth to memory with his own. You taste like home, he wants to tell you, but doesn’t. He’s never had a home to compare you to. 

Sylus the orphan. The vagabond. The corrupt. 

Molded deep in your body, he supposes this is the closest to a home he has.

Your fingers twine with his above your head, another hand tangled right in his frosty white hair. 

Languid rolls of his hips. Your own try to keep up—meeting him in the middle.

Say you’re mine, he growls. Say it, kitten. Say it and I’ll make you feel so good.

“Yours,” you hiccup, unable to peel your eyes off of him. 

I’m yours, Sylus. 

His thrusts send shocks of pleasure through your body, hitting the sensitive spots inside of you and making you flinch like he’s touching an open wound.

Over and over again. His mouth grazes yours. You don’t hesitate to swallow his kisses. 

You’re clinging to me like a vine, kitten. He nuzzles your hair, your neck. Smearing his lips all over your face.

His collar jingles around your neck, muffled metallic clicks mingling with the sloppy sounds of two bodies meeting again like the sea to the shore.

Your body runs hot, flushing and going taut under his own sturdy one. 

Unfurling like a flower, your release is about to wash over you like a crashing wave. He talks you through it, going yes baby come for me come for your owner I love you I owe you you’re mine forever come back to me I can make you so happy, sweetie.

You’re shuddering like someone’s run a voltage through you, holding onto him as tears gather in the corner of your eyes.

No, stop this—you can still stop this! Your mind screams but your body doesn’t listen.

Heat sparks at your fingertips, your world going hot white. 

His name tumbles from your lips, your body cramping and pulsing out his claim over you in shaking tremors; knowing exactly who it belongs to.

Fragments of your mind fall around this soft bed, and he gathers you into the tight seam of his embrace. His warmth comes next, filling you up, the walls shaking in your periphery. 

That’s it, kitten. He’s quivering, too, you notice, reaching out to brush a stray lock of hair from your sweaty forehead. You belong to me.

He switches to his back, and you’re sprawled across his chest, breathing heavily. 

Sylus holds you like this for a long time until your rapid heartbeat steadies to the rhythm of his breath. He says nothing and you wonder what plagues his mind.

Though quiet and pondering, his fingers run up and down the curve of your spine, drawing random patterns.

The quiet and calm this lull brings could make you drift off, if it wasn’t for the fact that your fiance would be back anytime soon.

As if he reads your mind, Sylus helps you unsnap your collar, pushing the leather circlet into your hands. He doesn’t meet your gaze while he cleans you up, dressing you again to decency. 

His silence follows from the bedroom to the front door before he exhales a laugh, breaking the melancholic spell of this mistake.

“I forgot to take my file.”

It’s a thinly veiled excuse; another loophole presenting itself as a casual observation.

Those red eyes are soft when you meet them, and if you look closely, you might see them wavering slightly with hope. 

You curl your hand over the door handle, wondering if he can tell just how badly you’re trying not to tremble when you say:

“Come back tomorrow for it.”

Sylus’ broad shoulders relax and his smile is brittle with hope.

He doesn’t kiss you ‘goodbye’ though you can tell he’s thinking about it when he flickers those vermillion orbs to your mouth.

When he leaves—bike roaring down the driveway and out of your life again—you lean against the closed door, bucking into the sadness building inside of you like an explosion waiting to happen. 

Tears chase down your face, the ring on your left hand burning against your skin as you press your hands to your mouth to muffle your wails.

You don’t know what strength possesses you but you stumble to the couch, curling yourself on the plush cushions as you try to erase how sweet his lips tasted on yours. 

Your collar was quickly chucked under the bed, though you can feel its siren call demanding for more.

Demanding for him.

You don’t know how long you’ve been crying, coming back to your senses once you hear the door swinging open. 

The familiar footsteps which once gave you pure joy fills you with dread when he walks into the foyer, removing his coat and scarf to hang it up. His movements are methodical—clinical, as Sylus once said. 

That name sparks a wave of pain through your soul. You can't think of him—not right now.

You blink the tears away though it’s for naught when they wouldn’t stop welling in your puffy eyes.

Your fiance sighs deeply and you’re reminded of how stressed he’s been lately; saving lives and working late night shifts. 

He hums under his breath as he rounds the corner, taken aback by your intense stare. 

He breaks out into a smile which falls when he sees the watery look in your eyes; your runny nose and swollen lips.

“Darling?” Those emerald eyes waver when he notices your trembling lower lip. “Did something happen—?”

His name burns through your lips like it’s a forbidden curse because how dare you evoke him when you were just chanting some other man’s name a few hours ago?

“Zayne… I have to tell you something…”

— please don't ask for part 2 there won't be one lol reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated <333

©️ lalunanymph. do not copy, repost, translate, take elements of my story and claim it for your own across other sites.

[exactlymaximumgarden]

722 Schlatt please 🙏

722. park your car on my face - louis cole (link to req info here)

eheheheh this one is gonna be FILTHAY. also unrelated but he looks so scrumptious in this image so i had to share. nsfw under the cut (afab!reader).

the first time schlatt suggested you sit on his face, you were hesitant.

"what if i crush you?" you protested worriedly. "i don't want to suffocate you." still, the idea secretly excited you, as much as you didn't want to admit it.

however, schlatt clearly caught on to this. he could always read you like a book. and with the way your face grew bright as the picture of it all transpiring ignited in your mind, it wasn't all that hard for him to tell what your true thoughts were.

"c'mon, toots. y' won't crush me," he insisted. his voice was liquid smooth, like a warm honey. his tone paired with the way his large hands snaked around your waist, pulling you flush against him, was enough to cause you to short circuit. "i can handle it, y'know i can. lemme do this for you."

you bit your lip, torn.

"hey. i'm not trying t' force you, doll. i just think it'd be fun for us to at least try, y' followin' me? just to spice things up. but it's all up to you."

you couldn't resist. and now here the two of you are.

schlatt's head is nestled comfortably atop his pillow, and your thighs are spread just beside his mutton chops, allowing his tongue full access to your pussy. you're hovering just a tad above his lips, your worries from when he initially suggested the idea only almost a distant memory.

"dollface," he grunts. "stop pussyin' around. i wanted you to sit on my face, not fuckin' hover above it."

you're barely given time to process what he said before his hands clamp on your hips, yanking you downward to where he's completely swamped in between your thighs. a high-pitched whine escapes you, yet he only seems to feed off the reaction.

his tongue moves fervently against you, eating you out as if he's a man starved. it isn't long before any inhibitions melt away. your hips buck and roll in response to every little flick, kiss, and suck he leaves against your pussy.

"fuck, toots." it's a challenge for him to choke out any words. he's too lost in the moment, too busy drinking you in. "love that taste."

it's so clear how much he loves you. from the way you ride his face with reckless abandon and the way he continually praises you in between his ministrations, coaxing you to your climax. it isn't long before your orgasm comes crashing over you, and schlatt eagerly laps up the evidence of your arousal without a second thought.

your legs feel like they're made of jelly as you slightly lift yourself up off his lips, glancing down to check on him. his face is beet red, his eyes are half-lidded, and his lips and chin are slick with your cum. he gazes up at you with a dreamy haze in his eye.

"you okay?" you whisper quizzically. your own voice is shaky as you attempt to recuperate.

"more than okay." schlatt emits a breathless laugh. "what'd i tell ya, huh? fun, wasn't it?"

you nod with a sheepish grin.

"yeaaaah." he cranes his neck just enough to press a chaste kiss to your inner thigh. "i say we should do this more often."

[lixies-favorite-cookie]

⋆.˚ ☁︎ TEENAGE DREAM ☁︎︎ ⋆.˚

—sometimes at eighteen, young love is anything but a teenage dream.

genres・fluff // young love // awkward confessions // meet cutes. summary・love is embarrassing, especially when you're in high school. from the cozy coffee shop to the local campus, eight boys stumble through the awkward world of crushes—trying, and failing to confess to you. taglist ・@its-stayville-forever, @aris078, @emilywjinnie

a/n・I haven't been on here for a little while, but I wanted to do something silly and fun to celebrate 500 amazing followers! All of these ideas are still in the works, so the plots may change, but I'm having so much fun writing them. I get hit with a pang of nostalgia every once in a while, remembering my very first fanfiction, haha. If you want to be tagged in any of these, just comment down below or send me an ask—and always remember to support your content creators; it means the world to us!!

☁︎︎ COFFEE CUP ☁︎︎

BANG CHAN loved being a barista; not only did he get exceptional employee discounts but it was peaceful—he handed people their coffee, they said thank you and walked away—nobody ever bothered him. that is, until one night, ten minutes before closing, you walked in with your bright smile and garrulous chit-chat. It only took you one sentence to have him hooked, eagerly waiting for your next late-night visit. what is bang chan going to do when he finally works up the nerve to write his number on the sleeve of your coffee cup, only for you to toss it away without ever seeing it? (coming to your shelves December 10th)

☁︎︎ ROSE ☁︎︎

LEE KNOW was famous for being the star quarterback turned heartless bachelor—or so everybody thought. nobody could have guessed that the reason minho chased every woman away was because, hidden 60 miles from home, there was the animal shelter where he volunteered. the reason he drove an hour every day to nurture abused pets? you. what is minho going to do when, no matter how many roses he gives you, you just can’t take the hint? (coming to your shelves soon...)

☁︎︎ MOTORCYCLE ☁︎︎

︎SEO CHANGBIN. there’s nothing he loves more than his motorcycle—well, that’s not entirely true. he probably loves you more, but his motorcycle is certainly a close second. with prom looming, changbin finally gathers enough courage to ask out his long-time crush and childhood best friend. what is changbin going to do when, halfway through, he chickens out—and, in a panic, ends up ramming his motorcycle into your mailbox while trying to back out of your driveway? (coming to your shelves soon...)

☁︎︎ MY MUSE ☁︎︎

HWANG HYUNJIN has been in love with you for about as long as he’s understood the word love; stuck in the seat beside you since elementary school, hyunjin grew to adore the soft curves of your features. one day, in the middle of art class, he's struck with the urge to draw you. overcome with the fear of never getting the chance to tell you how he feels, hyunjin stuffs the picture in your locker. what is hyunjin going to do when he overhears you talking to your friends about the drawing—and you mention his enemy's name, and not his? (coming to your shelves soon...)︎︎

☁︎︎ LYRIC BOOK ☁

HAN JISUNG is dedicated to securing the top spot in his songwriting class, and nothing is going to stand in his way. that was, until three years ago, when you walked through the door, head held high, speaking of your goals as if they were already part of the present. jisung never thought there would be any competition—until there was. now, he doesn’t know whether to write songs about his overwhelming hatred or his overwhelming ardor. what is jisung going to do when, one day, you’re paired with him for a project, and you discover all the love songs he’s written about you? (coming to your shelves soon...)

☁︎︎ SUGAR AND SPICE ☁︎︎

LEE FELIX, the school's sunshine, the universe’s fallen star—nothing was going to get him down. well, except for you. no matter how hard he tries, felix just can’t form a sentence around you; his tongue twisting into sailor’s knots whenever you look his way. what is felix going to do when he tries to confess through a cake, baked fresh in the culinary class you share, but trips over his shoelaces and smears the cake all over your shirt instead? (coming to your shelves soon...)

☁︎︎ BASEBALL ☁

KIM SEUNGMIN worked with a focus nobody else seemed to reciprocate, constantly practicing to be the best pitcher this world has ever seen. his teammates respected him, his coach loved him, and the school only ever saw his poised manners—not the awkward teenager he really was. that is, until he meets you—equally shy and almost as painfully awkward, studying on the bleachers every day after school. there's something about your concentration, the self- assured direction you set for yourself, that makes him want you even more. what is he going to do when, one day after practice, he scrawls his number on a ball and chucks it toward you? and for once, the ball doesn’t go where he aimed. instead of landing in your lap, he nails you right in the forehead. (coming to your shelves soon...)

☁︎︎ THE BOOK WAS BETTER ☁︎︎

YANG JEONGIN lived in the library. on the days when he wasn’t cramming for an exam, he was relaxing with a good book. the library had always been peaceful for him—a sanctuary that students rarely ever touched. that is, until one random morning, he sees you walk in—captain of the cheerleading squad, with your tiny skirt and sparkly eyelids, jeongin almost expects you to laugh at him and his pathetic seating arrangement—all alone. but then, checking to see if anyone’s watching, you pull a book from the shelf, and begin to read it. that's how it started—now, every day during lunch, you come and read your book, safe in the shadows, creating a home nobody else knew about. what is he going to do when he starts falling for you, through the notes he slips into your book after you leave? And what will happen when the wrong girl comes in and tries to take the book? (coming to your shelves soon...)

a special thank you to @jeonginsleftcheek who helped me flesh out all these ideas. I couldn't do any of this without you!! I hope you like these stories <33

[hangmanssunnies]

The Hangman Special

Summary: On a night out with your friends at a fancy cocktail bar, you are just trying to keep your head down and ignore the girl that your ex cheated on you with. The night only seems like it's going to get worse when you are dared to kiss a stranger at the bar. However, it seems like the odds might finally be in your favor when you notice a familiar set of broad shoulders. If you can be convincing, you think you might just be able to get your brother's friend Jake "Hangman" Seresin to help you out with your little problem.

Pairings: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Reader

Word count: 7k

AO3 Link

Warnings: 18+ only, kissing, hot and heavy make-outs, exs, truth or dare, bad friends.

Author's note: Dreaming about kissing Jake in a bar. Thanks to everyone who looked at earlier drafts of this. I hope you enjoy this if you take a chance to read. My inbox is always open if you want to let me know your thoughts. Reblogs with your thoughts, opinions, and tags are gold to me. I love reading through them.

The bar is buzzing with the loud chatter of patrons, the clinking of glasses, and the rhythmic beat of music. You are sitting at a corner table with your friends, a group with an eclectic mix of personalities. You are known for being more on the shy and reserved side, but tonight, you are even more withdrawn than usual. No one had mentioned that Tassie had also been invited to the evening's hang out at the bar. An oversight you felt was probably intentional since everyone knew Tassie had started dating your ex only a week after your breakup. She went so far as to post a picture of them together on her Instagram. It had been a few months since that happened, and until now, you had managed to avoid running into her. However, it seemed like luck had run out.

"Hey, I've got an idea that would spice up the night," Cece says after the first round of drinks. She is one of your bold and outspoken friends, and you aren't sure you like how she is eyeing you with a mischievous glint. "Let's play truth or dare." 

The whole group groans at the suggestion, and one of your friends vaguely wonders if you're all still in middle school playing that kind of game. Despite the initial lack of enthusiasm, after another round of drinks, the group is laughing and entrenched in the game. 

When Cece sings your name when she finishes her turn, you are nervous by the sly smile she is wearing as she formulates an option for you when you hesitantly concede to doing a dare. "You're the only one of us still single, so I dare you to go over to the bar and give somebody a kiss." 

"What?!" 

"Just a quick one, nothing too scandalous," Cece says placatingly. "Come on, live a little! It's just a bit of fun. What's the worst that could happen?"

"I bet they won't do it. They're too chicken for this kind of thing, not one to step out of their comfort zone," Tassie says. It makes your blood freeze in your veins because you know those words. You have heard that criticism thrown at you in the past, but not from her, from your ex. 

Your eyes narrow at her, and you ask, "Too chicken? Seriously?"

"Yeah. Please, prove us wrong. Show us you can do something spontaneous," Tassie taunts, grinning. You feel a surge of defiance welling up. Even though you're reserved, you are not one to back down from a challenge, especially not when the woman who cheated with your boyfriend is acting like you're the one who should be ashamed. Acting like she is better than you. 

"Fine, watch this," You declare, feeling hot with a mixture of embarrassment and determination. As you stand up, your friends exchange amused glances, convinced that you are about to back out of the dare. 

With absolutely no intention of  backing down, though, you scan the bar. After a moment of examination your heart soars because you realize you have this dare in the bag. You have the advantage even, because there is a familiar tall, broad-shouldered blonde at the bar that you know all too well. Jake Seresin, or Hangman, is one of your brother's best friends, and he is looking just as delectable tonight as he always does. The group would undeniably be impressed with you kissing someone so handsome, and you knew one way or another you could convince Jake to help you out. 

"Cece, I'll even let you pick since you made the dare. Point out the hottest man in the bar, and I'll kiss him." You say confidently. There is no doubt that Jake is the most attractive person there, and he is just Cece's type, too. She falls right into what you want, pointing Hangman out for you. The rest of your friend group hoots, making even more comments that you aren't going to follow through with the dare and approach someone who is that drop-dead gorgeous. 

Ignoring their taunts, you square your shoulders and walk with as much confidence as you can summon into sashaying across the bar. Putting mental effort into trying to project some form of hotness onto yourself not only for the confidence boost but also the bit of spite burning in you. 

Reaching the bartop area, the hesitation starts to set in as you admire Jake's profile. He is sitting on a bar stool leaning against the counter, patiently waiting for the bartender in the crowd that is starting to grow. Taking one last breath to steady yourself, you reach out and delicately set a hand on his bulging bicep. 

"Hangman!" You say brightly as if you're surprised to have run into him. Jake turns to face you at your touch, and an easy wide grin spreads across his face. 

"Fancy seeing you here, my dear! How are you?" He asks as his eyes trace you slowly from head to toe and back again, the grin on his face not slipping once. 

"Oh, I’m fine, and I am so glad I ran into you." 

"Most people are," Jake says, winking at you. You are nearly distracted by his handsome face and flirty tone. He looks like he has put on even more muscle since you saw him last. The green button-down he is wearing appears close to bursting at the seams with how it clings to him. "So, what have you been up to these days?" 

"Are you still single?" You blurt quickly, ignoring his question, not wanting to lose your steam. 

"Yes, Ma'am. Last I checked. Why?" 

"Perfect, can you do me a huge favor?" You ask. 

"I'm always happy to help out a friend," Jake says, sounding increasingly suspicious. The smile hasn't dropped from his face, but his eyes have narrowed slightly, examining you. 

Quickly standing on your tip toes, you loop an arm around Jake's neck, appreciating that he is sitting on a stool, helping level your height difference. Wasting no time, you pull him down to meet you in a quick kiss. Once his lips brush yours, you let go of him, stepping back, not even taking a moment to savor the feeling or enjoy having Jake this close. 

With your mission accomplished, you have every intention of making a hasty retreat back to your friends and hoping that you will be able to forget this. You are going to erase knowing you've kissed Jake Seresin from your brain, and then the next time you see him, you're going to pretend this fiasco never happened. It feels like the best and only course of action for you to take. 

However, you don't even get to make a full step away from Jake before large hands and thick arms circle around your waist, pulling you back towards him. He tugs until you are standing between his spread thighs, his hands maintaining their position on your waist. 

"Woah now, where do you think you're going?" He asks, eyes darting around your face, studying you closely. 

Embarrassment at having to explain your actions rushes through you, turning your stomach and overriding or maybe enhancing the butterflies there. You glance away from Jake towards your friends and see them watching with rapt attention. Then his thumb moves in a slow soothing circle, drawing you back towards him. 

"I'm sorry! My friends dared me to kiss someone at the bar, and when I saw you, well, I knew it wasn't a lost cause because you're not a complete stranger." 

You refuse to believe that the frown that flashes on Jake's face is one of disappointment. However, it's hard to ignore when his eyebrows are scrunched together, and his hands are so warm you feel it bleeding through your clothing. 

"You could at least buy someone a drink before stealing a kiss, you know. That's just some common decency." 

"I'm so sorry, Jake," you apologize again. "Let me buy you a beer for your troubles." 

"Naw, you don't got to." 

"Well, now I have to because you made me feel bad," you say, waving your arm to try and flag down a bartender. 

"I didn't take you for one to just kiss someone on a dare," he says conversationally. You try not to wriggle uncomfortably in his hold, but without even trying, he seems to have pulled you even closer. 

"I normally wouldn't be," you agree. "But the girl who I highly suspect of cheating with my ex while we were still together is here. I'm sure she thinks she's better than me and that I'm a boring prude."

"She clearly has never been around when you drink tequila," Jake laughs. You can't believe he would still remember the camping trip from years ago, where you were drinking tequila. Definitely notable because it was probably the last time you had dared have any of the liquor. 

"Can you please forget about that? And tonight, too?" You request. Jake pretends to think it over, humming lightly before shaking his head. 

"Sorry, no can do. It's already burned into my eidetic memory." You huff at his response, avoiding eye contact with him to try and catch sight of the bartender again. "You know, if you just asked me first, I would have given you the friends and family discount." 

"And what is that?" 

"Pretty similar to buy one get one free," he says, his voice dropping a little lower. Your mouth falls open in surprise, but you can't find any words. "Could have given you more than a quick peck, something that would really wow your friends." 

Trying very hard not to imagine what kind of kiss Jake would consider wowing, you decide to deflect. Jokingly saying, "Didn't think you were from one of those kinda southern states. Do you make a habit of kissing family members?" 

Jake throws his head back and laughs full-bellied at you. "The friends and family of my friends discount then," he amends. 

"I already hate being in this situation. I don't want more of a pity handout than I've already taken."

"Darlin," he sighs, shaking his head at you. "I would have even given you the Hangman special. Which is a deal, bargain, and steal. Comes with a kiss that's guaranteed to impress friends, people who cheated with your atrocious ex, everyone in this bar, and has even been known to, on occasion, inspire a standing ovation." 

"Ha.Ha. You're so funny," you say dryly, rolling your eyes. 

"I am, thank you for noticing," Jake says. "However, I think you deserve that kind of kiss to prove a point to your friends over there." 

"They didn't even think I would be able to make it over here to talk to you." You admit to him, glancing over at your friends again, a little displeased that they are still obviously observing your interaction.

"That them over there?" He asks, following the direction you're looking. You hum in acknowledgment. "Which one's the cheater?" He breathes, his lips ghosting the shell of your ear, sending a shudder down your spine. 

You describe Tassie a bit to him, finding yourself shifting closer into his embrace, enjoying how he is somehow able to help most of the chaotic bar disappear from your senses. It's hard to think about the noise or the increasing number of people starting to press in when Jake's touching you. When he picks out who she is, Jake grunts a little. He lowers his face and nearly kisses your neck over the pulse point. His hot breath tickles the spot, causing shivers again as he declares, "I don't see the appeal." 

"Wish my ex felt that way," you sigh. 

"Fuck him," Jake says with conviction. Drawing a bit back from you to make eye contact again. His green eyes are clear, and in the dimmed mood light around you, they seem to shine even brighter than usual. 

"You sure you don't mind me having kissed you to prove a point?" 

"My dear," he laughs like you told him a funny joke. "I can't imagine a situation where I would mind you kissing me. Let alone one where I get to help you out." 

Sliding your hand up his chest to casually rest on his shoulder, you wonder, "Is the Hangman Special still available?"

"Yes, Ma'am."

"Guaranteed to be wowing?" You check. 

"Got a warranty for you and everything," Jake says lowly. 

Your hand curls around Jake's neck again, and you attempt to tug him closer to you. He doesn't even budge, though. One of his hands slowly traces up your side from your waist until he is cupping your cheek. Then Jake leans close, his breath ghosting over your lips, where he lingers for a moment. Your eyes flutter closed, and as soon as they do, his lips press to yours. This time, it's not a quick peck. 

He is slow and deliberate in how he kisses you. Tilting his head to the side to get a slightly better angle, Jake uses his hand on your face to urge your lips to align better with his. Pliable to his touch, you open your mouth to him, seeking even more, and rewarded when Jake's tongue brushes against your own. You never doubted that Jake would be a good kisser, but knowing firsthand is something you know you won't be able to erase from your memory. When the kiss starts to border on indecent, he pulls away. 

You linger in the moment, keeping your eyes closed until your heart doesn't feel like it's going to burst from your chest. While you are in that limbo spot, his thumb slowly strokes your cheekbone. Sea glass green is the first thing you see when opening them again, Jake not making any effort to veil how he is admiring you. His lips are slightly pinker now than they just were, and you can't help but imagine how pink and swollen they would get if you had the opportunity to get this man alone on a couch. 

Just as you consider requesting that he kiss you again, just to really really solidify how good you are to your friends, because obviously, three kisses are much better than the one they dared you to get, you are suddenly bumped from behind. The motion roughly shoves you against Jake's solid chest. Both his hands automatically return to your waist, tightening as he steadies you there. Glaring over your shoulder at whoever bumped you, he asks, "Are you okay?" 

"Yeah, I'm okay," you breathe. Being this close to him, the woodsy scent of his cologne tickles your nose. And you suddenly wonder why exactly he is in this upscale cocktail bar dressed so nicely. 

"I'm glad you decided to kiss me and not any of these other assholes," he mutters darkly, still glaring over your shoulder. 

"Well, it wasn't really a choice." You reveal, which has his eyes snapping back to you in an instant and a frown pulling at his lips. One of his thumbs that's resumed making circles on your waist stops, and the other falls off your waist entirely now. He doesn't move otherwise, but his presence feels less consuming. Tersely, he responds, "I see." 

"I may have skewed the odds. Told my friends to pick the hottest man they could find. What would you know? They picked you." You explain quickly.

"That's some good luck on your part." 

"It wasn't luck, not really."

"How do you mean?" He wonders. 

"I knew they would pick you." 

"What made you so confident?"

"Because, Jake, you are, hands down, the most attractive person here," you reveal to him shyly. Your fingers curling into his silky shirt, where they have found themselves on his chest after being pushed. 

"See now, I don't think that's true," he says, his eyebrows pulling together. The frown is gone though, the edges of his lips quirking up again. 

"Oh please, Jake. Do not pretend you don't know how handsome you are."

"I'm aware. However, that doesn't change the fact that you're the most attractive person in this bar tonight." 

"You're a flirt," you accuse him. 

"I am," he agrees with no argument. "But that don't make me dishonest or mean I'm not genuine. I haven't been flirting with you just for the sake of it." 

Warmth blooms in your center at his words, and you nearly forget all about trying to escape away from him. Right now, you just want to get closer, as close as he will let you. However, you are pulled out of the fantasy when you look away from Jake's intense gaze to see your friends and how most of the table seems shocked and scandalized. Wryly, you notice Cece giving you two thumbs up. It's like you could almost forget that this was just him being flirty and imagine he was kissing you for more than just helping prove a point. "Well, I appreciate your help with the Hangman Special. I know they will all be impressed and jealous when I head back over there." 

"Now, wait a moment. You can't just sneak away. The Hangman Special not only comes with mind-blowing kisses but also a free night out, all expenses paid, and dinner at any restaurant you choose. "

"You just give that away to any random person who asks?"

"No, only the pretty ones I've had my eye on for a long while," Jake says, his eyes intense, the hand still on your waist flexing tighter for a moment.

"You have?" You ask, completely surprised. 

"Yes, Ma'am," he replies with no hesitation. Before you can respond, the bartender finally makes his way over to you two, asking for your order. Jake instantly defers to you before ordering, asking, "What do you want, my dear?" 

"I thought I already told you I'm taking one of the Hangman specials." You say, after taking a moment to think it over. The grin that lights up Jake's face is sunny and bright, and if you weren't being supported by his strong body, you would have probably fallen over swooning. 

Turning back to the bartender, Jake requests two bottles of water and both of your tabs. As you peek over his shoulder while he signs, you see the bill consists of just one beer, the water, and the two drinks you've had tonight. 

"So you want the full experience?" He asks you when you've taken a sip of water, and he has downed half of his in the same time. 

"From what I know about you, Jake, I don't think you're someone who does things by halves," you answer, fiddling with one of the buttons on his silky green shirt. Then you are pushing a bit on his chest, trying to step away. When you do, Jake's hands find themselves on your hips again pulling you closer to him. 

"Where you going?" He pouts. 

"I just need to grab my purse." 

"Whatcha you need your purse for, sweetheart? Don't you know I ain't going to let you pay for nothing?" Jake drawls. 

"I'm sure you want that to come off gentlemanly, but you're close to flirting with misogynistic." You say, playfully poking a finger into his chest.

"No." Grabbing your hand and bringing it up to his lips, Jake brushes a kiss on your pulse point, saying, "I know exactly who I'm flirting with, and that is you, my dear." 

The laugh you let out is slightly involuntary, but it makes Jake look like he won a prize, so you can't be too displeased, especially not when he has resumed drawing circles on your skin, and it feels like some sort of hypnosis you never want to end. "I'll be right back, and you can keep flirting with me for as long as you like." 

"That a promise?" Jake asks.

"Sure thing," you agree, but Jake still hasn't let go of you. 

"Do you want some company?" 

"You don't have to." 

"Little worried you're going to try and sneak away," he admits. 

"But Jake, I am sneaking away," you say in a fake whisper as if sharing a secret. "Sneaking away with you from my friends and this bar." It makes him smile again, just like you were hoping it would. "Just wait here for me. Okay?"

"Okay," he reluctantly agrees. Despite agreeing, the hold he has on your hand actually slightly tightens. "One more kiss?"

"I'm starting to get the feeling that you're always going to want one more kiss."

"You already know me so well," Jake grins. You press your lips against his again in a quick kiss, careful not to get caught up in it, before slipping out of his grasp. When free, you practically skip away from Jake to grab your things. 

Arriving back to your friends, you're greeted with loud whooping and even some clapping thrown in. Cece is practically giggling as she says, "I really didn't think you had that in you." 

"What were you talking about for so long?" Another one of the group asks.

"Was that kiss as hot as he is?" Someone else wonders, and then questions are coming from every direction before you can answer any of them. 

"It was great, he's great." You manage to get in. When they start to flood you with even more questions, you cut them off. "I would love to talk all about it, but I'm sorry y'all, I'm actually just over here to grab my purse." 

"There is no way you are leaving with that guy," Tassie says incredulously. 

Irritation and anger flares up in you as you turn to glare at her. "Really, there's no way? And why would that be Tassie?" 

"Come on," she says, clearly surprised that you've decided to call her out. "You're just not the kind of person to go home with someone from the bar, and he doesn't really seem like your type." 

"I don't know how tall, handsome, funny, and phenomenal kisser could not be someone's type," You say harshly, snatching your purse and jacket from where you had been sitting. 

"I'm just trying to look out for you," she responds sharply. 

"I don't think that's true," you snap back. 

"Hey now, why don't we all chill out," your friend Marv cuts in placatingly. 

"Sorry to interrupt," a familiar southern drawl says from behind as a warm arm wraps around your shoulder. You nearly sag into Jake. The urge to explode on your friends, more specifically Tassie, instantly absorbed by his presence. "But I was promised I could take this one out on a date tonight." 

"We can't let our friend just leave with a stranger," Cece says, and you turn to narrow your eyes at her, frowning that she is butting in when she is the one who set all this into motion in the first place. 

"While I respect that, I don't think you get to make that decision," Jake says lightly and a lot nicer than you would have in that moment. 

"You could be a crazy serial killer or something," Tassie says. 

"While I am a killer, that's normally just how people describe me in bed," he answers in a flirty, exaggerated way. That has you nearly coughing, you suck in air so hard. He gently pats your back and continues on. "If you're really worried though, you can look me up on Instagram. That's at LT.H_ANGM_N. I hope y'all have a good night. I know we will be," Jake punctuates the sentence with a kiss to the side of your head. 

Stuck between laughing and balking you glance around at everyone’s surprised faces at Jake’s boldness. You know exactly what Jake's last Instagram post was, having spent several minutes the other day debating whether you should like the shirtless picture of him on the beach. 

"Are you ready, sweetheart?" Jake asks you, practically muttering the words in your ear. All he needs is your nod before he confidently starts to turn you and lead you out the door. You manage to throw your friends a small wave goodbye, but it only takes a few steps for them to be out of your mind. 

"Did you drive?" Jake asks you as the fresh evening air rushes over you both. 

"No.” And you’re glad you didn’t when it means Hangman will be driving you home.  

"Good," he grins, "do you mind me driving?" 

"I don't," you answer easily, completely content to follow Jake to wherever he is going to lead you. 

He stops in front of a Jeep Gladiator, and you aren't overly surprised by his taste in vehicles. He goes to open the passenger side door for you, but you don't immediately take his offered hand to get inside. Instead, you tug it as you lean against the side of the truck. Jake follows the motion easily, not hesitating to bend down and mold his lips to yours. 

Jake looms over you, one of his hands balancing his weight against the side of the truck just over your head. The other on your side pulling you a bit closer to him. Looping your arm around his neck for some leverage, you let Jake take over your senses. The softness of his tongue paired with how he nibbles at your lower lip pulls a little whine from you.

When you have to pull away for a ragged breath, Jake groans low in his throat as you press teasing kisses down the column of his neck to the V of skin his shirt shows off. The hand on your waist slides up to cup your cheek and pulls you back to his lips. Kissing Jake is easy, he doesn't leave enough room for you to question if he's enjoying it. Nor do you have the capacity to overthink it as Jake's lips move surely and confidently with your own. All there is is him, his warm strong body, soft lips, and the calluses of his fingers. 

Leaning backward, you pull Jake with you wanting to have him pressed flush because even though you're tasting him, caged in, surrounded by him it still isn't close enough. However, the motion presses one of the Jeep’s jutting door hinges sharply into your back. You can't help but gasp a small "ow" as you try to shift. Concern creases Jake's features, and he pulls you away from his truck into his chest, glowering at the vehicle as if it had somehow betrayed him. 

"You okay, darlin?" He asks, his hands tracing down your back checking for injury. You lean more into his chest even though you don't really need the support, it's just nice to be in his arms. 

"I'm fine," you reassure him. 

"Let's get you out of harms way." He says pulling open the passenger side door. As you start to heave yourself into the tall truck Jake is practically picking you up and easily setting you in the seat. You blink at him in surprise at his show of strength. He remains there, standing in the open door, leaning closer and placing his hand just above your knee, his thumb drawing circles there. Then he asks, "So, where would you like to grab some dinner, my dear?" 

"I've heard of this really great restaurant I've been dying to go to."

"Yeah? Let's make it happen then." 

"Mhmm," you hum in confirmation. "It's called Hangman's House." 

Jake's thumb immediately stops moving and the smile on his face seems to shift. The genuine glint there slipping away, to something hard for you to really identify, practiced or guarded. Whatever the change was you don't find yourself liking it and immediately wonder where you misstepped. 

"So, Hangman's House, that's a pretty exclusive place. They don't usually do unplanned reservations," Jake says after what's nearly an awkward silence. 

"That's too bad. I heard that they have great service." You say a little dejected but glad he told you no in a casual manner that you can play off. 

"You're in luck though, my dear, because I know the owner. I think he would be willing to make an exception for us sometime, but they are better known for their breakfast menu." Jake responds upbeat again. 

"I like breakfast." You mutter in what you think is a flirty way. However, it's obvious that you've missed the mark when Jake's hand drops off your leg completely now. 

"Listen, if this is just a one-night thing, just some making out and fun stuff, where you are going to leave in the morning and pretend it never happened next time we see each other," he says seriously. Pausing, he runs a hand through his hair taking a measured breath, and you watch as the muscle in his jaw flexes. "That's fine, but I need to know it now." 

As you study his face intently it occurs to you that maybe even men like Jake Seresin have insecurities. Maybe he was used to interacting with people where more often than not they only saw him as a handsome face with a nice body. People who were ready to leave the next morning. The realization that a one night stand isn’t the series of events he is interested in with regards to you twists a pit of uncertainty in your stomach. You feel a little uneasy not sure exactly where you stand or what he wants with you. 

Reaching to catch Jake's lost hand and tangling your fingers, you start playing with the big class ring he is wearing. He allows the movement and relaxes his hand further, giving you additional leeway. The distraction of Jake's fingers gives you the courage to say, "I guess maybe I misunderstood that this was going to just be a nice fun night with you. Is that not what you were looking for?" 

"I do want that," Jake says adamantly. " However, I don't just want that." 

"What do you mean?" 

"I want to bring you flowers, dance with you, write you love letters. I want to explore every inch of your body and heart until I know what makes you tick. I want you to forget that any other man besides me even exists." Jake presses himself close to you again, and he turns his hand to thread your fingers tightly together. "Now I'm good, and I mean really good my dear, but those aren't goals I can make happen in one evening. So I want to start with tonight, taking you out and giving you a good time. And then I want to do the same thing tomorrow or whenever you have free time. I want to do that for as long as you will let me." 

"Oh wow," you breathe, taken aback by his declaration. "That's kind of a lot." 

"I know, but I don't want my intentions to be unclear. I wasn't lying when I said I've had my eye on you for a while. I'm happy to go at whatever pace you need; I'll do whatever you want. However, if this was all just getting back at your ex and proving a point. If you can't see yourself wanting anything more with me past tonight again, I need to know." Now, Jake takes his turn playing with your fingers as he breaks eye contact to stare at where you're intertwined. "I'll happily let you break my heart, but I don't want to be blindsided by it. 

Surging forward, you pull Jake in to kiss you again. It's an awkward angle, and the way the truck makes you taller than him feels odd. However, none of that matters when his lips are so pliable against yours. 

"I don't want to break your heart," you tell him between kisses. "I want to go on dates with you, and I want to go home with you. I want to go to bed with you and do it more than once if we find out we are compatible." 

"Are you doubting our compatibility?" Jake asks, raising an eyebrow. 

"Not really, but you know it's better to make sure with these things. Have to double check, I think." 

"That makes sense," he concedes. 

"Now let's get some food so you can take me home and then to bed. Show me these killer skills you mentioned earlier." 

"We can do a lot tonight, but we can't sleep together," Jake says mournfully.

"Why not?" You ask confused. 

"Everyone knows you don't sleep together until the third date," Jake drawls.

"That's a cliche. Plus, why does it really matter?" 

"Because I've been dreaming about forever with you, and when you want forever with someone, you don't want to skip any steps." Jake answers, dead serious and earnestly. It makes you wish you weren't in such an awkward position in the truck. If you were still outside pressed against it, or in the bar even, it would be so much easier to show him the appreciation and affection burning inside. 

"We've got to be somewhere near the third date by now. We have tonight and that camping trip we went on. Oh, and that one time that everyone went bowling. Plus, there was that bonfire a few months ago!" You say, trying to think of occasions you and Jake had spent a good amount of time together. While considering it, you also realize he has nearly always gravitated to your side during group interactions, and going off tonight, that clearly wasn't as coincidental as you had previously thought. 

"You deserve real dates," Jake responds with conviction, and the look in his eye really isn't something you can or even want to argue with. There isn't anything wrong with someone wanting to act like a gentleman with you; it's actually flattering, especially when it's clear Jake isn't going to play any guessing games with you concerning his feelings. 

"Well, then we are wasting time when we could be on our first date," you say, pressing another peck to his lips and lightly pushing him away from you. 

"One last kiss," Jake whispers as he lurches close again for another peck. Then, he gently closes your door and jogs over to the driver's seat, asking where you want to get a bite to eat. 

The two of you end up at a fancy Italian restaurant where you share an appetizer, bottle of wine, and dessert. During dessert, Jake insists you pose for a picture. Despite your initial resistance, he convinces you, and then, nearly as soon as he takes it, your phone lights up with a notification telling you that you’ve tagged you in his story. He tells you before you even ask that he hopes your friends looked him up on Instagram but requests that you repost it on your own just in case they didn't. He claimed it's so they know he's not kidnapped you, but you suspect that it's more likely he wants to prove a point. And it's something you don't mind one bit, especially when he easily lets you post a picture of him on your own story. 

After the restaurant, Jake drives you both out of town a bit to where the sky is much clearer and the stars are visible. The evening isn't warm enough to cuddle in the truck bed like he wanted, so instead, you end up in the backseat with the moon roof completely rolled back. You manage to pretend to be looking at the stars for about three whole minutes before crawlingl into Jake's lap to kiss him. 

Before the making out can get too heated, Jake grips your chin, urging your face upwards to look through the moonroof. Gruffly, he mutters into your ear, telling you to behave. Words that only make you squirm in your newfound place sitting on his lap. He lets you stay there, though, his hands steady on your hips, and his lips leisurely brushing yours or your neck whenever inspiration strikes. 

"What were you doing out tonight looking so nice?" You wonder absentmindedly, unbuttoning the top button of Jake's shirt. It's not with an ulterior motive. Really, it's because Jake's shirt is so soft, and the top of it is hiding his dog tags from you, which you have suddenly decided is unacceptable. The new skin exposed to you is just an added benefit. 

"Ah, nothing to worry about darlin'." 

"Common, you can tell me," you say, pressing a kiss to the underside of his jaw. 

"You know, whinnies?" 

It takes you a moment to place the restaurant and remember that it's across the street from the bar where you met up with your friends. "The wine bar?" 

"Yeah," Jake confirms. "Well, I was on a date there." 

"Oh." When Jake doesn't say anything, you decide you have to push the conversation forward. "So, what happened to your date? Were they not nice?"

"No, she was real sweet," Jake says, and you feel your stomach drop as if you aren't in the back of his truck and sitting in his lap right now.

"So why did you end up at Gem's?" 

"I was checking Instagram before she got there, and I saw you post that you were at Gems, right across the street. And no matter how nice she was, I knew it wasn't fair that I was thinking of a different person the whole time. So, we didn't even make it through appetizers before I had to be honest with her about that, and then I swung by Gems, hoping I would bump into you." 

"You were at the bar just to see me?"

"Sure was. So imagine my surprise when you found and approached me first."

"How would it have gone if you had approached me first?" You wonder. 

"For one, I would have offered to buy you a drink before stealing a kiss," Jake says teasingly. 

"You're not going to let that go, are you?" 

"Probably not for a while," he tells you. You groan and hide your face in his neck as if that will save you from some of the embarrassment. Feeling his chuckles in his throat and rumble in his chest is soothing, and you pepper more kisses to his neck and collarbone as if you were tracing the sound.

"You wouldn't have left without a kiss, though?" 

"I wouldn't have left without seeing you, and I would have done everything to try and convince you to give me one," Jake promises. 

"How would you have kissed me for the first time?" 

"Are you asking for another demonstration?" he wonders. As soon as you nod in affirmation, he pulls you close, repositioning you on his lap so you're straddling him. The darkness of the truck makes it so you can't quite see how green his eyes are, despite that they are still somehow bright.  He holds eye contact with you for a long moment. His hand cups your cheek, and like earlier in the night, he pauses, not closing the gap, observing you close. When you try to lean forward and seal your lips, he backs his head away. Then he chastises you while wearing a smirk, "I'm goin' to kiss you, baby. Now, let me do it how I want." 

Anticipation tingles in you as Jake leans close; however, at the last minute, he swerves, pressing a kiss to your cheek, then the other cheek, your forehead, and your nose. Finally, his lips meet yours firmly. Closing your eyes, you sigh into the kiss. The feeling of being intimately connected to Jake again is nearly the same as relief. When your mouth opens, Jake licks into you, searching out your tongue with his own. 

There no longer seems to be any will in Jake to tamper down the heat of your kissing. He allows you each time you push the envelope of the moment being just the soft sweet first date kissing he initially claimed to want. As he sucks on the sweet spot, her discovers on your neck, the way you grind downwards is involuntary and completely by accident. A low moan comes from Jake, and you like the way it sounds. So, the next time you grind down on him, it's completely intentional. 

The dark slacks he is wearing don't do much to conceal his hardened length. After a few more rolls of your hips, Jake's hands tightly grip your waist helping you grind against him. He urges you into a rhythm that has whimpers, moans, and gasps passing from both your mouths between hot kisses. As you try to speed up, frantic lust beating so loud you can hear it in your ear, he doesn't let you. Though you are on top of him, there is no doubt that Jake is in complete control. 

Just from this night, it's not difficult to imagine how he will be in the bedroom. Strong,  consuming, and in control. You can picture how he will confidently lead you exactly where you want to go, and you will get there because just a back of the car's make-out shouldn’t cause someone to be as turned on as you are right now. You unbutton his shirt and let your hands roam over his chest. Dragging your nails along his abs causes a full body shudder and Jake to grip your ass so hard you think you might bruise. It doesn't bother you, though, because how can anything that gets you closer to his cock be a bad thing? 

“Jake,” you say in a sudden moment of clarity. He hums his acknowledgment but keeps kissing at your neck and squeezing at your ass. A particularly hard thrust upwards from him nearly has your brain going fuzzy as you desperately try to hold yourself together.  “Jake,” you repeat more forcefully, “we need to stop.” 

“What’s wrong?” He asks concerned, detaching his lips from your skin and losing his hold so he is barely touching you. 

“If we keep at this I'm going to beg you to fuck me right here right now,” you answer. He makes a strangled groan. With his swollen lips, lust filled eyes, and hard dick you're sure he wouldn't actually mind. “Which would be amazing but you told me about a three date rule and I agreed.” 

“I did say three dates,” he responds and looks like he hates himself for it. 

“But if it doesn't actually matter I would like to suck your cock at least once before we fuck.” You boldly tell him, twisting his dog tags in your fingers pulling them taut against Jake’s neck until the release beads give away. The chain falls into your grasp, and you use the warm metal to distract yourself. 

“Fuck me,” he breathes throwing an arm over his eyes and leaning back. “You're perfect, you know that?” 

“I'm not.” 

“You are. So perfect, so hot.” He kisses you like he's about to ignore what you just said. Hot and a little sloppy with tongue and a bit at your lower lip. When he pulls away he rests his forehead against yours saying, “We are going to stop now  because I don't want there to ever be a doubt in your mind that I'll keep the promises I make to you.”

Your stomach flips with affection, and you sag, leaning heavily into Jake, just hugging him tightly, waiting for the lust that's sparked to cool. The two of you even manage to get some actual stargazing in where hands roam but in more so in an exploratory way than sexual. 

Holding hands driving back into the city you can’t stop staring at Jake’s profile, or admiring his fingers or tracing the veins of his forearms. You are focusing on trying to convince yourself that this isn’t a dream, you're definitely going to wake up with hickies in the morning, and another date with Jake Seresin scheduled tomorrow. It’s something that if you had been told at the start of your evening, you would have laughed at the absurdity of the idea. 

"I know it's really soon, but do you think that if you asked me again in a few weeks if I'm still single, we'll be able to change my answer?" Jake asks you after a bit breaking the comfortable silence you two had been in. 

"I think that's possible. What do you think about that?" You wonder. 

"I would change my answer tonight if you wanted me to."

"Jake..."

"Listen, I really like you, and I don't see that changing anytime soon. So as soon as you give me the okay, I will bring you flowers with a promise ring and ask if you want to go steady with me." Jake's thumb rubs along your pulse affectionately, "I'll change my Facebook relationship status. I'll get a nice little charm with your name on it for my dog tags. I'll take you to meet my friends and brag about how amazing you are." Jake leans over at a red light to press a soft kiss to your lips. "The whole shebang." 

"That sounds nice. Does that deal have a special name, too?" 

"Yeah, we can call it the Jake special. It is a whole package, long-term, all-inclusive deal." 

"Extended warranty?" You check jokingly.

"It actually has a no-return, no-refund policy," Jake answers.

"That's a pretty big commitment," you whisper back, even though the idea of keeping Jake all to yourself sounds nothing but appealing. 

"It's not something that expires. So how about tonight, we just worry about getting you home where you're going to let me walk you to your front door and give you a kiss goodnight."

"Just one kiss?" You ask in a pretend pout. 

"Let's shoot for two, but don't be surprised if it's three, maybe even four." 

"I want five," you declare stubbornly.

"Then I'll give you six," he easily offers. 

You try to hide your smile but don't quite manage it. It's a permanent fixture the whole drive home and during all seven of the goodnight kisses you get. They aren't the best kisses in the world because Jake is smiling through them, too. It's okay, though, because you both know there's going to be more in the future, a lot more. 

[so-much-for-the-seashells]

Logan Howlett, the man you are. (Headcanons!!)

Minors, do not interact.

A/N: Y’all. I’ve been in a writing rut, but something about Logan- and Huge Jackedman, by extension- regaining his moment in the spotlight has gotten me back at it. Hugh was 1000% the reason I found out that I have a thing for dilfs, and let me tell you, I ain’t mad about it. To quote one author, who I can’t remember off the top of my head but wrote a KILLER breeding kink fic for Wolvie, “before there was Jensen Ackles, there was Hugh Jackman.” If you know me or my work, you know I’m a Jackles girl, but Hugh? Hugh will always get me going, whether he’s a ringleader, a robot shadow boxer, or otherwise.

TLDR I’m so in love with Hugh/Logan again. I always am, but I’m really on fire rn. Don’t worry, I will be continuing the 2SC series, but I needed this.

As always, all interaction, especially your words, is so very much appreciated!! I hope you like this one! Also, thank you for 120 followers! This account is maybe three months old, this is an insane milestone.

CW: it’s really just soft with a side of spice, the most flavorful being daddy/breeding.

-first of all, this man is a the biter.

-and it’s not always in a sexual sense

-he’ll just walk up to you and gently graze his teeth against your exposed shoulder or neck

-especially at night, after sex or not. He’ll be holding you close- you’re the little spoon ofc🎀- and just nibble on the juncture of your neck and shoulder while you cuddle into him

-honestly, it doesn’t hurt. And he only leaves marks if he wants to, ie when he’s balls deep inside of your little cunt OR wanting to remind the world who you belong to

-he’s just got a bit of an oral fixation is all

-speaking of which, he could be between your thighs for the rest of eternity and he’d be fine with it. He LOVES when you tug on his hair as he makes you squirm, only needing one strong hand to hold you down

-he goes feral when he sees you wearing his shirts

-loves to throw you over his shoulder and to play fight

-he’s interested in anything you’re interested in

-mans can’t cook to save his life but adores watching you and “helping”

-aka being all up in your business when you’re literally just trying to chop an onion

-he can be clingy. Not in a whiny way, in a playfully annoying way.

-will always find a way to make you late to anything. Sometimes it’s for the sake of a quickie, other times it’s because he wants one more kiss or to see the last five minutes of whatever show you guys watch together

-if you’re into daddy, he’s into daddy. Especially if you’re significantly younger than him

-he likes to squish you- your boobs, tummy, ass, wherever. He loves your body for what it is and loves you

-this man is so in love with you, by the way

-he’s old as hell but if you teach him how to text he’ll text you sporadically throughout the day. Sometimes it’s really blurry, almost impossible to decipher, pictures of things that remind him of you, other times it’s “When will you be home?” even though he’s already called you to ask four times. That’s mainly on his days off though- if he’s not doing something or you then he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

-that’s not to say he’s not always thinking of you. On missions, wherever, you’re the first thing in his mind. Give him a locket with a picture of the two of you and chances are he’ll wear it forever

-oh back to the other one he totally texts like an old man. If you try to use slang, or even just use “u,” you’ll confuse him so bad that he’ll think he’s in the future or that you’re speaking a different language. He also doesn’t like emojis, unfortunately 😞

-he’s got a sweet tooth. Loves to bake with you- he can’t cook but he can make a mean batch of snickerdoodles. No one knows why, and he’ll never offer any explanation.

-speaking of sweets that’s why he loves eating you out so much, because you taste so sweet to him

-and all of his nicknames are sweet based- sweetheart, sweets, sugar, etc- with the exception of darling which coming from him would put anyone on their knees immediately

-speaking of being on your knees he loves when you do it. Not as much as he loves eating you out, but he does enjoy a solid blow once in a while

-he’s a sucker for cockwarming, even if it’s barely sexual. Just as a way to be close. If you don’t mind him smoking he’ll smoke a cigar while you do so, and get into a nice soft headspace

-the kink of his that annoys him the most is breeding. He doesn’t want kids (unless you do, which is its own conversation. Personally I don’t so works for me haha) but when he’s balls deep, pushing you into the mating press, it doesn’t matter. Especially if you’re in a place where he can fuck you raw all the time- ie you take the pill, have had a hysterectomy, etc- then he will, and he will always spill his seed deep in you, mind filling with pictures of you all round and swollen and cute even if it’s impossible

-however it is hot when he gets in that headspace regardless of if kids are in the question or not

-hang on I thought of something else and then I forgot it

-uhh

-oh that’s it. Praise. Loves getting it, loves receiving it. If you’re more receptive to degradation he’ll give you that, but he loves telling you what a good girl you are

-also has a blast with brat taming

-anyways back to the soft stuff

-he loves domestic life. Curling up with you on the couch with fluffy blankets and snacks, watching rom coms and other cheesy movies

-he’ll rest his head in your lap if you’re drawing, crocheting, reading, etc

-he loves being petted. Your hands in his hair, tracing his muscles, whatever. It makes him so happy and it’s soothing for him

-and we all know how he’s mr gruff n tuff, right?? Well if he’s really eepy and lying on his lap while you stroke his hair, there’s an ever slight chance you can get him to purr. Don’t tease him about it, though, or he’ll get super self conscious

-if you like to workout he’ll work out with you

-he really likes to box to blow off steam, but if it’s with you and you’re not a fellow mutant it’s more play fighting than anything, but it’s still fun

-he’s a sucker for cheesy dates

-call him ‘Lo’ or ‘Wolvie,’ or any nickname that fits him. He thinks it’s adorable, and owns it. He also gives you like fifty nicknames of his own.

-he loves long walks on the beach if it’s accesible, hiking’s also fun to him

-he’ll never take his anger out on you, ever

-he loves reading with you, just sitting in comfortable silence with your respective books

-that’s all for now!!

If you have any ideas for ficlets or headcanons, my asks box is always open!! Xx

[spicyspiders]

old man logan part 6

1.4k words

There's no smut in this, but it's really fluffy.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

“Hey,” you said, balancing the phone between your shoulder and ear, “what’d you need me to get again?” You questioned, placing the basket onto the floor. It was Logan’s turn to make dinner tonight, and he wanted to pair the pasta you had just placed into the basket with some type of fancy sauce you couldn’t remember the name of. 

“Want me to just text you the name?” He asked. 

Your brows lowered in confusion as you looked over the shelfs of sauce jars, hoping maybe one of them would jog your memory, “you said you hated texting.”

”This is important,” Logan answered, making you roll your eyes, “it has to be-”

”Found it! It’s the one with the old man on it, right?”

”Yes. And you got the rig-”

”The rigatoni,” you said with another roll of your eyes, “yes,” you said as you grabbed one of the jars, “hey, he kinda looks like you,” you observed, giggling after hearing the sound of Logan’s huff on the other end of the phone. 

“I don’t look like the guy on the sauce jar,” he grumbled. 

“I’d send you a picture, but it probably wouldn’t show that well on your dinosaur phone,” you said as you moved from the aisle to the next.

”I like my phone,” Logan said, sounding mildly offended. 

“You told me you hated texting because your fingers are too big for the buttons,” you replied, deadpan, “we could get you a bigger phone that isn’t a flip phone. They actually have some really fancy touch screen ones now,” you said as you grabbed the bottle of spices Logan said early paired well with the sauce. 

“Maybe I could upgrade to a different brand,” Logan responded, a smile in his words, “and then I could buy one of the holsters you like,” he teased. 

You cringed just thinking of the sight, “fine, you win. I’ve got to get a few more things, then I’ll be on my way.”

”Drive safe,” Logan responded, his voice full of seriousness. 

“Yeah yeah yeah,” you said with a breathy laugh, “love you, bye,” you said ending the phone call as you stepped into another aisle. 

It wasn’t until you were checking out that your brain caught up to what you had said, “shit,” you said, startling the cashier. 

“Everything alright, sir?” She asked, a worried look in her eyes, “did you forget something?”

”No! No I- um,” your mind went blank, not even knowing how to begin to explain what had happened earlier. But actually, this poor cashier didn’t deserve to be subjugated to your blabbering mouth. You didn’t know how long it would take to even explain that you meant what you said to Logan, but you didn't want it to come out in such an unserious way. 

“Just remembered something I need to do later,” you said as you fished your wallet out from your pocket. 

——

All throughout dinner, you couldn’t focus on anything other than how you had ended the phone call earlier. You weren’t even able to focus on the delicious meal Logan made, the man being able to tell from the worried looks you could feel as you kept your eyes on your plate. 

“Was it not good?” Logan asked after setting his fork down onto his empty plate. 

“No!” Your head shooting up, “No, I mean it was great, not no, I didn’t like it,” you said quickly, hoping as you stood up and grabbed your dirty dishes that cleaning them would help you calm down. “It was great,” you said into the sink as you turned the hot water on. 

“If you say so,” Logan replied, like he wasn’t convinced. 

“Go relax, I’ve got this,” you said as Logan grabbed the sponge. 

“You wash and I’ll dry,” Logan responded, his hip brushing yours when he walked up beside you. 

Washing dishes was a quiet affair, which gave your brain the perfect opportunity to overanalyze. It made you nervous how Logan was being, save for the soft thank yous he said when you handed him a wet, clean dish. 

You hoped Logan hadn’t noticed the way your hands shook each time you handed him another dish, but if he asked, you could just blame it on the weight of the pot Logan used to cook the pasta in. 

“Your sink isn’t big enough for this,” you grumbled, trying to pour out the soapy water without getting it all over the counter. 

“It feels like you’ve been bitching all day today,” Logan observed as you passed him the pot, “first my phone, now my sink.”

”I’m trying not to get water everywhere,” you said as you cleaned the lid that went with the pot, “unless you want me to get it all over your counter,” you said, almost tipping the water over, but not before Logan grabbed your wrist. 

“You do this and I’ll bend you over this counter,” Logan said, “move,” he said, pushing the damp cloth into your chest before he manhandled you into the spot he was. 

“I wasn’t actually going to do it,” you groused, snatching the clean dish Logan gave you. 

You turned your neck to the side to hide your smile after seeing Logan’s glare. A few moments later, you felt Logan’s hip brush yours again as you heard his soft chuckle. Your mind, at least for a little while, was finally at ease. 

——

Though it freaked you out that Logan hadn’t said anything about it, you felt another wave of affection in seeing Logan in bed. He looked comfortable and warm, a sight that you were grateful Logan let you see. He lounged under the covers, sat up against the headboard, a book in one hand, and his glasses perched upon his nose. 

“What’re you reading?” You asked as you closed the bathroom door. You made your way through the dim bedroom, illuminated by the lamp beside Logan, to get in bed next to him.

“It’s about the first world war,” Logan said, not looking up from the page he was reading. 

“Was that the one you were in?” You asked, a smile stretched across your lips. A laugh burst forward when Logan glanced your way with an unimpressed look. Maybe it was from exhaustion from the full day you had, or the inner turmoil in your brain and going over what you said to Logan, but the look he gave made you burst out into laughter. 

Your body shook as you laid down onto his shoulder, trying to muffle the sound into the soft cotton tank top he wore. When Logan responded, you could hear the smile in his voice, “because I’m so old, right?”

You didn’t respond and instead sat up to grab the remote on the bedside table that was on your side, “you mind if I watch a little tv?” You asked once your laughter had died down. 

“Just not too loud,” Logan murmured, glancing up to look at you over the top of his glasses, making you smile once more, “what?” he questioned. 

You weren’t going to let yourself laugh again and instead settled yourself back down, your body curled towards Logan. You felt his hand brush your thigh under the covers as you turned the tv on, making sure to immediately make sure the volume was low. 

“Fuckin’ commercials,” you groaned. 

“Be patient,” Logan said humorously as he squeezed your thigh with a broad palm, “you could stand to read a book instead of watching that.”

”Once I graduate next semester, I’m never reading another book again,” not tearing your eyes away from the screen. 

It didn’t take long for your eyes to begin to droop, and you gasped awake when the remote fell from your hand, “I’ve got it,” Logan said softly as he clicked the tv off. 

He placed his book down on the table, followed by the remote, and then finally his glasses. He pressed a soft kiss to your lips before leaning back over to turn the lamp off, the room falling into darkness. 

Tiredly, you rolled onto your side, away from Logan, only having to wait a few seconds before his arms were wrapped around you. 

“I do love you too, you know,” Logan said softly as his lips brushed the back of your neck.      

“Yeah?” You asked into the darkness, your heart hammering in your chest. 

“Wanted to tell you earlier,” Logan said, one of his hands, sneaking under your shift, “but didn’t want to say it with my mouth full of pasta,” he said, hiding his smile in the back of your neck.

”I wouldn't  have minded,” you said, placing your hand on top of Logan’s through the shirt. 

“Cause you love me?” He asked, rolling you over onto your back, his body hovering over yours. 

Wordlessly, you pulled Logan down into a kiss, suddenly not feeling tired. 

[gingernut1314]

Call Me Baby

SDC x SDC!GN!Reader

Summary: The Stardust Crusaders need to know why you called them by their name.

Warnings: Takes place in JJBA part 3, Jotaro's kinda of goes past part 3 cause I wanted to lolol, established relationships, slight misuse of a Star Platinum??? (I say it's the only right way to use a stand buuuuuttt......), I'm pretending like Suzi Q was never in the picture (love you queen, but your husband is hot so you can travel with Lisa-Lisa) but yall are free to do as you do, the slightest mention of spice, Iggy is a PET/DOG only

Word Count: 760+, 680+, 560+, 700+ , 760+, 450+, Total: 3.9K

Song:

BABYDOLL Youtube | Spotify

A/N: because I JUST WANT TO CALL THEM MY BABY SORRY NOT SORRY

Taglist: @cinnbar-bun @lostfirefly

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Jotaro Kujo 😒🐬

Jotaro will never admit it, but he loves that you call me baby/babe

At first, he grumbles and tells you to stop but the more you do it, the more it grows on him and the less he’ll complain

When the other Crusaders get on him for it, he’ll tell them to shut the hell up as he simply grabs your upper arm and drags you further along and away from them as they cackle like utter fools.

He’s been through all the teasing and continues to let you call him that silly-ass pet name even when he utterly dislikes it (Errrrrrr--fake. He lies to himself)

So when you call him by his name on a random Tuesday afternoon he doesn’t know what to make of it

What the hell were you doing calling him by his name?

He won't respond and continues to read his book in the living room of your shared home

You’ll call for him again, thinking he didn’t hear you the first time

but this time he’ll turn his sharp, green eyes up to look at you from underneath the visor of his hat

“Who the hell are you calling for?” He asks, letting his irritation get the best of him. You just blink because what is he talking about? It’s only the two of you here. Who else would you be calling for?

“Your name is Jotaro, isn’t it? I’m calling for you so get your ass up and come help me with this. I can’t reach--”

“No.” He simply says, returning his eyes to his book. You grit your teeth and stare daggers into him, trying to think of what the hell he was going on in his mind--what the hell he was playing at

“Jotaro.” No response. “This isn’t funny.” A flip of the page in his book. 

You march over to him with a huff of annoyed air, the book he’s trained his eyes on snapped shut with a simple movement of your hand. You leaned down, placing a hand on the armrest next to him so that you could look upon the entirety of his flawless face under his hat.

“Remember what we’ve gone over together about telling each other our feelings because some of us would prefer to bottle it up and storm around all grumpy?” Those green eyes snapped up to look at you again.

“You’re starting to piss me off now.” You give him an all too bright smile, bringing your other hand up to pat his cheek in a way you knew would only piss him off further.

“Aww see, Jotaro. That’s not so hard.” You tease only for his hand to grab hold of your wrist faster than lighting, yanking you closer so that you see his displeasure up close and personal. 

“You’ll stop calling me that right now.” You blink in utter confusion at his gritted-out words.

“Then what am I supposed to--” It clicked then what he’s so worked up about. Why he keeps insisting you not to use his name. It makes your heart flutter to think that he might actually like being called by that pet name. “Oh--oh you sweet thing.” You purr in teasingly, only making those eyes of his hardened further. His grip on your wrist tightened. “You just want me to call you my baby, right?” 

Jotaro lets you go then, going for the closed book in his lap in his own unique way to end the conversation there. Oh, but you are fully invested. You weren’t going to just drop it as you might usually do. No. Not when he’s put on such a show for you. 

“Baby,” You say, lowly, stopping the books to travel upward. You watched his shoulders relax at the pet name. Such a small release of tension you hadn’t even noticed added before. “Can you please grab the tupperware from the top cabinet for me? The one with the red lid? I need it down so I can pack some goodies for your mother when we go to visit her tonight.” 

“Fine.” He said, going to stand from his seat, but you kept him caged in. You couldn’t help the smile that bloomed over your face as you looked over his features, which he always tried to keep oh so emotionless. 

You leaned in, placing a quick peck to his feather-soft lips. 

“Thank you, babe.” You said, moving away so that he could stand. 

“Good grief.” He grumbled, sounding and looking all so annoyed, but he couldn’t control Star Platinum from popping an arm out to give your hand a quick squeeze.

Joseph Joestar 🏃‍♂️🛬

He’s calling you babe/baby

You’re calling him babe/baby

He hasn’t given you a choice in the matter and neither have you

It’s second nature

It’s his and yours second name

So when you call him by his first name, it can only mean one of three things

1) You’re in his arms moaning it for all to hear and making his already too-big ego even bigger

2) he’s dying/in danger and you're screaming at him to not be as such

Or 3) you’re completely and utterly furious with him and are about to murder him

But, as he’s joining the other Crusaders all gathered in the hallway of the hotel room they had picked out and hears his name growled out like it had come from the lips of some great bloodthirsty beast, he knows he’s about to get completely wiped from the face of the earth by your hand 

“OH MY GOD!” Joseph shouts, heart coming to a full stop in his chest. “Hide me! Hide me now.” He all but begs to the group.

“What? Trouble in paradise?” Polnareff teases as Joseph grabs for his arm.

“What the hell did you do now, old man?” Jotaro asks, shoving his hands into his pockets. 

“I don’t know!” Joseph just managed to get out before the door to your hotel room swung open with a bang. He gives a shout in fright as he pulls Polnareff in front of him in an attempt to hide himself. 

“Joseph Joestar.” You fume, marching down the hall towards the group. 

“Last name too. Huh.” Kakyoin observes from where he stood next to Jotaro. 

“Get your ass over here. Right. Now.” You hiss, shoving Polnareff out of your way. The Frenchman began to laugh hysterically, unable to keep it down any longer.

“What? You’re gonna have to speak up, my sweet honey bunch, sugar pie, love of my life. My hearing isn’t how it once was.” Joseph panicked, reaching for Avdol’s arm only for the fortuneteller to move out of the way. 

“Forgive me, friend. This is your battle alone.”

“But--but--” A hand grabbing hold of his shirt froze him in his place. “B-baby…hey. Mornin’.” He said, slowly turning around to face your wrath. “Have I told you how beautiful you look today? No?” He gently unraveled your fingers from his shirt to hold it, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your knuckles. “Just--look at you. You take my damn breath--”

“Joseph.” The man gave a sharp gulp at his name spoken in such a threatening way.

“Yes, sweetness?” He said, trying to soften your anger one last time with pet names and caresses against the skin of your hand.

“What is the one thing I have asked you to stop doing time and time again?” Joseph’s brown eyes flickered towards his grandson as he thought. Jotaro only pulled his hat further down his head to keep himself out of it. 

“Uh--not to use your hairbrush?” You shook your head. “Not to…eat your snacks?” Yet another shake of your head. 

“Nope. Want to take one more guess?”

“I--Do I want to?” Joseph said with a nervous laugh. 

“Next you’ll say: Sorry, babe. I was in such a rush this morning I completely forgot to not use your hair products because my hair could never be as beautiful and luscious as yours.” You said all too sweetly in the face of such anger you had been presenting.

“Heh, heh…babe, you know that's my lin--OH NO!” Joseph shouted, as you yanked him down, knocked his hat off his head, and gave his hair a good ruffle to mess up all the work he had done using your products. 

“Don’t do it again, Joestar.” You hissed, in his face, now sporting a too-cute pout. It made your anger bank the slightest. You could never resist that face, even when he drove you utterly crazy. “Find us a good breakfast place baby, and I’ll forgive you.” Joseph’s face instantly brightened and he placed a big, old smooch on your cheek. 

“You’re in luck, baby because I know just the place.”

Muhammad Avdol 🔥🦅

He’s not going to be the biggest when it comes to calling you baby/babe

But please go ahead and call him baby/babe

He loves it

He loves it so much he finds himself doing more and more romantic things for you just to keep pulling the pet name from your lips

He’ll shower you in flowers and small gifts and forehead kisses and praises all to have you call him baby

When he’s feeling more goofy or happy, you’ll find him calling you baby/babe right back

So on the rare occasion you call him by name, he can’t help but feel disappointed

“Have I done something to upset you?” He’ll ask softly, brows furrowed as he focused his whole attention onto you. 

“What? No. Why would I be upset with you?” You asked, turning to face him fully, your own concern etched onto your face. “I was just asking for you to pass me another napkin.” 

“Oh.” Avdol mutters in a small voice you hardly ever heard him speak in. He hadn’t even heard your question, just the utter lack of the pet name. You watched him carefully as he grabbed a napkin from the small pile the waiter had brought the group. “Here you go.” 

“Thank you.” You said, taking the napkin from his warm fingers. He turned back to the food on his plate, taking his fork back into his hand but making no move to begin eating. 

Had you done something to upset him? 

You couldn’t think of a single thing that might have done that, but something was clearly wrong. You reached a hand out to brush your knuckles over his cheek, gaining the attention of those bright brown eyes of his. He leaned into your touch, giving you an all too pinched smile. 

“What’s up?” You asked, moving you knuckles over his cheek once more. 

“Nothing. Truly. How are you liking--” “Hey--stop. Tell me what I did, okay.” You watched him pause, eyes taking in yours before his hand came up to keep yours against his cheek.

“It’s silly.” He said and you could see the slight embarrassment rising in his features. 

“I doubt it. You can tell me.” He gave you a lovely smile, squeezing your hand gently. 

“You said my name. I told you, it’s very silly.” You knew what you’d done instantly. 

“Oh baby, I’m sorry.” That smile of his only grew at the pet name. “I--you’re name is just so beautiful I just want to use it here and there.” You felt the skin of his cheek grow even warmer at your words. 

“Geez--can you two get a room.” Polnareff huffed from where you sat beside Avdol, arms crossed and a deep pout on his lips.

“Jealous?” Avdol teased the Frenchmen with a rumbling chuckle. “I don’t have any doubt you’ll find someone to call baby soon.” You couldn’t help the smile that pulled to your lips at the flutter of happiness in your chest. 

“Me? Jealous? Never.” Polnareff contiuned as you moved to take Avdol’s hand within your own. You brought it to your lips, pressing a soft kiss his skin. Those brilliantly bright eyes turned back to find you once more at the touch. 

“I love you, baby.” You murmured against his skin. 

“I love you too…baby.” He said a small smirk on his lips that had a small laugh pull at your throat.

Noriaki Kakyoin 🍒💚

He’s not used to the whole relationship thing

So don’t expect him to instantly be calling you baby/babe 

He might not even say it all, feeling too--strange saying it

But go ahead a call him baby/babe

He likes it

No--no he loves it

He especially loves it when you call him baby/babe when excited

The spark in your eyes as you jump and giggle and call for him using that pet name to show him whatever had gotten you this excited is addicting to him

It's especially addicting when you take his hand in your excitement 

So when you call for him using his name, he’s frozen in his spot looking towards Mr. Joestar, Polnareff, and Avdol for help

Because they might have more insight into the situation than he ever would hope to have

“Oooo--you’re in trouble now.” Polnareff teases, making Kakyoin’s anxiety spike in his chest as the Frenchmen elbows Advol playfully, though the fortune teller made no move to help or laugh. 

“T-trouble? What did I do?” Kakyoin asked, racking his brain for anything he could have done to upset you. 

“Beats us bud.” Mr. Joestar added, his own snickers adding to Kakyoin’s stress. “I’m sure you’ll find out.”

“But--I didn’t do--” You call his name again, cutting off Kakyoin’s frantic rush to figure out what might be wrong off. He snapped around to find you all but bouncing down the street towards the group, Joatro following behind in his typical unhurried state. Kakyoin tried to catch Jotaro’s eye, to try to keep figuring out why you might possibly be using his name, but his friend kept the visor of his hat down. 

“Y-yes?” He asked as you came to a stop before him, a bright smile on your lips. 

You didn’t seem upset. You looked all too happy to be upset…but maybe it was a trap of some sort? Maybe you were trying to get him to drop his guard so you could better shout your anger at him. 

You paused in what you were about to say, brows furrowing as you took in his panicked and stressed state. 

“Something wrong?” You asked, only making the snickering from Polnareff and Mr. Joestar harder. You took in this and then his state and felt anger begin to build in your chest.

Had they said something to him? If they had, oh were you more than ready to give them hell. 

“Kakyoin, what happened?” He seemed to sink into himself, eyes winching as he scanned over your features, which were growing more and more pissed by the second. 

“I-I don’t know. I think--did I do something wrong? Did I upset you?”

“Do something wrong? Why would you think you did something wrong?” You asked, placing a hand on his arm in comfort. 

“I don’t know. You just said my name and I don’t know--” He gave a deep sigh, looking away from you as embarrassment began to creep into his eyes. 

“Wait--You’re name? That’s why you think something’s wrong? Because I said your name?” Kakyoin glanced back at you, a small shrug on his shoulders. 

“You only ever call me baby.” Your heart hurt a bit when he finally expressed what was truly bugging him. 

“I’m--no I’m not upset at you. I like your name. I like calling you baby. I like both so I just--switched. I’m sorry sweetheart.” You said, rubbing his arm to try and soothe him. Kakyoin seemed to relax, a smile pulling at his thin lips. 

“O-oh…I feel a bit silly now.” You pulled a bright smile to your lips as you shook your head.

“No. Baby, I don’t think so at all.” That stress continued to ease within Kakyoin and it only made you even happier. “Especially when you have those two idiots whispering in your ear no doubt.” You said, shooting them a daggered glare that had their snickers turned into their own panic. 

“Come on, I found this little tea shop that’s selling a cherry tea you need to try. It’s to die for!” You said, moving your hand down his arm to interlock your fingers within his. Kakyoin was more than happy to take it and follow you.

Jean Pierre Polnareff 💔🗡️

Deep inhale…

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASEEEEEEEEEEE CALL THIS MAN BABY

CALL HIM BABE

CALL HIM BABY GIRL 

He needs you to call him every last pet name in the world and then some

And he’ll do it back

He’ll do it back SO MUCH LIKE

It’s in his DNA. He can’t help it. It needs to be said right alongside every other pet name and praise he can think up 

He’s bursting at the seams every morning to wake up and whisper a “good morning, baby.” against your lips 

And he’s just as excited to whisper a “good night, baby.” before you two drift asleep wrapped in each other's arms

He melts into a puddle every time you call him baby/babe

Like--just puddy in your hand

So when you say his name--not even his first name--he’s completely coming apart at the seams panicked.

“Mon coeur, what have I done to deserve such harsh treatment?” He cried, tears brimming in his gray eyes as he grabbed your hands up in his own. His lips peppered each with kisses, flipping them over so he could do the same thing to your palms and inner wrists. It was a flurry of kisses that had your slight annoyance ebbing in your chest even when you fought so hard to keep it. 

“You didn’t take me with you to grab supplies.” You played up your anger with a humph, turning your face away from his utterly forlorned one. 

“Forgive me, please. You were sleeping so peacefully. Like an angel. Mon Ange.” His kisses continued to travel up your arm. It made your skin tingle and your heart begin to beat rapidly in your chest. 

“When have I ever cared about you waking me up, Polnareff?” You said his name only to pull a mournful cry from his lips. “What if something had happened to you? What if you had gotten hurt? Hum? What then? That would kill me.” Polnareff’s lips left your skin only so that he could pull you into his arms, trying his best to find your gaze but you continued to look away. To turn him into a near whiny mess as you crossed your arms, preventing him from pulling you flush against his chest. 

You were serious about him going off on his own. He should never go off on his own while on this journey. Not when he had been attacked while all on his lonesome one too many times for your liking.

“Je suis désolé. Please forgive me.” You peeked a glance his way, keeping your features and eyes stern compared to his pleading, pouting face that nearly had you breaking down and forgetting about the whole thing.

“Promise me you’ll never do it again.” Polnareff nodded, pulling a hand away from you only so he could stick a pinky finger up. 

“I pinky promise, mon amour.” You eyed his pinky, then his big old puppy eyes and gave a soft sigh. Your pinky found its way around his and he gave it a gentle squeeze, which you gave right back. 

“I’m serious. I don’t know what I would do if you got--really hurt.” You said, feeling your heart twist painfully at the thought of your best friend and the love of your life getting more than hurt. Polnareff’s soft, needy features shifted suddenly into that of complete and utter seriousness as he leaned in closer to you. 

“I will try my best to keep myself safe, but I will do everything in my power to keep you safe above all else.” You watched him for a long moment. Watched him and just felt your love for him grow with each passing second. 

You gave in fully then, pulling your hand away from his so that you could gently cup his cheeks. You stood on your tippy toes to press a soft, tender kiss to those warm lips of his. Lips that had stars bursting behind your eyes and making you feel like you were standing on top of the world. He sighed into your kiss, holding you tighter against him and never once threatening to let go.

“Amour?” He questioned, keeping his forehead pressed to yours. You opened your eyes to find that soft, needy look had returned. 

“Yes?” 

“Please call me baby. I cannot take it any longer.” He begged, a deep blush crawling over his cheeks and neck. You chuckled, rubbing circles into his pink-dusted cheeks. 

“Baby,” A bright smile pulled at his lips, his grip pulling you ever closer. “I love you.”

“Je t’amie.” He whispered before claiming your lips all over again.

Iggy 🐕💨

CALL THIS PUPPY A GOOD SWEET BABY BOY 

Give him some coffee-flavored gum while you do and you’ve got yourself a loyal companion for life

Will only let you pick him up, pet him, and scratch his belly once you’ve gained his trust

He’ll grow so loyal he’ll start getting a bit possessive of you if any other the Crasuders make you upset or threaten to even touch you

Their hair

Gone

Their lungs

Invaded with the foul smell of a ripe fart

Call him a baby while he falls asleep in your lap 

Just

Please call him a good, sweet baby

He’s ugly and a bit of a menace but he just needs someone to be gentle and sweet to him

“Whose the best baby boy in the world? Hum? Who is?” You ask as you pepper kiss upon kiss to his ugly little face. Iggy's little tail is waggling so much it's moving his whole body in his excitement. “The most handsome baby boy in the whole world.” 

“The most handsome? Hardly.” Polnareff huffs from where he sits next to you on the ground, arms crossed and eyes staring daggers up at the dog. “Have you seen me? I’m a cute baby boy too.” He huffs, making Iggy pause in his excitement. 

“Polnareff, you are fighting with a dog.” Polnareff growls. 

“That is no mere dog. No. That’s a devil. A foul beast come straight from hell itself to torment my innocent soul.” Polnareff hisses making you roll your eyes. 

“So mean to the itty bitty baby.” You said, voice turning back into that of a coo, placing another smooching kiss on Iggy’s stubby muzzle. Though, Iggy had now set his buggish blue eyes on Polnareff. 

“What’s he looking at?” Polnareff asked, panic rising in his voice.  

“What? This baby? He’s just looking at you. Probably wants a pet.” Polnareff’s eyes fly wide as he rushes to his feet, trying to create as much distance as he can between him and the dog. 

“Keep the demon away from me and my hair. I just fixed it.” He all but whined as Iggy began to wiggle in your grip, a growl on his lips. 

“He hardly did any damage. He’s just a good baby.” You said, loosening your grip on the short-haired dog. 

“Hardly any damage!” Polnareff shouted, taking on a defensive stance. “He tore it out!” You huffed, patting Iggy’s round belly as he continued to pull himself from your grip. 

“It wasn’t that--” Iggy shot from your arms and latched onto Polnareff’s face, becoming a storm of teeth and farts and growls that had you wincing in pity for the Frenchman, who shouted and screamed away. “…bad.”

[cottonlemonade]

Brushing Your Stress Away

word count: 1321 || avg. reading time: 6 mins.

pairing: University AU!Tsukishima x chubby!Reader

genre: spice with fluff

warnings: mdni

request: Hello!! can me and my dear Tsukki get an 11 and 23 for lunch before i procrastinate? || fluffy-spicy, dealing with exam stress + studying together with boyfriend Tsukishima

Tsukishima didn’t even flinch when the pen zoomed past his head, bounced off the wall, and landed perfectly in his hamper. Without looking up from his notes, he asked, “Tough chapter?”

You groaned and let yourself fall on your back, arms and legs outspread like a starfish, “I wanted to study art because I love painting, not because I love remembering dates! This is impossible!”

You dramatically flung an arm over your eyes to drive your point home that you were done with studying.

“Come on, only 32 more minutes on the timer.”, your boyfriend said, turning a page and pushing your art history book closer to you.

“No.”, you pouted, wiggling a foot in defiance, “Don’t wanna.”

“So, you plan on working in a museum as… what? A barista?”

Letting your arm fall off your face, you turned your head to look at him, “You could come visit me during your breaks.”

“Not likely. Coffee is disgusting.”

“Not the point, Kei.”

“Resign to your fate or study for another 31 minutes. Either way, stop whining. Some of us want to focus.”

You sat back up, squinting indignantly at your boyfriend, who skillfully ignored you as his eyes skimmed the pages.

Letting out a small huff of boredom, you looked around his bedroom. When he invited you to come spend the break with him in Miyagi you were excited, even more so when on the drive here he casually mentioned that you’d be alone because his older brother was staying at uni with his friends and his mother was away on some conference. But four days of your precious week had already passed without so much as a roaming hand.

On a whim, you reached for your pencil case to take out a cheap replica of an old artist’s brush - a small gift from the souvenir shop Kei had gotten you the last time you visited a museum together. Turning it in your fingers to have something to do, you stared at the page of your book, admiring the pictures at least.

Kei meanwhile, chewed the inside of his cheek, throwing a quick glance over his glasses at you. He knew he wasn’t doing a particularly great job as a boyfriend right now.

To not make it too obvious what he was looking forward to the most during this week together - uninterrupted alone time with no nosy roommate to worry about or forgetting his key and having to spend the rest of his night on a bench in front of his building - he had put together quite the itinerary under the guise of how much you’ve nagged him to show you his hometown (you asked once). Somehow, being in his childhood home after the months away at university made him almost shy. If he didn’t know any better, he would have thought he felt guilty for bringing you here without telling his mother. However, if his shower thoughts were any indication, he wanted nothing more than to make use of the empty house with you - not seeming too eager, of course. He flipped a page without having read the previous one. Unless he finally acted on his impulses, you would return to academic life without even a good solid make-out session at this point.

A soft caressing sensation on his arm made him snap out of his thoughts. He found you running your brush along a faint vein on his wrist.

“What are you doing?”, he asked unnecessarily but didn’t pull away.

“Nothing.”

The smooth bristles followed his long fingers now one by one.

Without any conviction, he said instinctively, “Stop that.”, whilst really hoping you wouldn’t.

Luckily, you never listened to him, so instead you brought the brush up to his neck and tickled the sensitive spot under his ear. He shuddered and you laughed.

“You think this is funny?”, he asked.

“Hilarious, actually.”, you said.

He got to his knees and all too easily made you tumble backward, making sure to catch your head in his hand before towering over you. With a superior sneer, he took the brush from you.

“Let’s see how ticklish you are.”

Trapped between his long legs, you giggled and squirmed when he ran the brush under your chin, and you ducked your head between your shoulders to defend yourself. So he brought it to your ear.

“Stop!”

Your hand shot up to cover one side, but he just took this to mean he could attack the other. He sat back on his heels and in an attempt to hide the outline in his sweats, pursed his lips in fake pondering.

“Hmm… looks like you leave me no choice.”, he shrugged with a heavy sigh and unceremoniously lifted the hem of your shirt, making extra sure his palm, rough from the years of playing volleyball, dragged gently over your pillowy tummy as he did. You became very still, waiting for his next move. He felt you pressing your thighs together between his legs and scoffed while painting invisible lines on your skin as if he were sketching the outline of your bra.

“This is very much in the way.”, he said more to himself than to you and pulled a cup down from your breast. He leaned forward now, his free hand holding him up next to your head and with precise little teasing strokes he flicked the brush over your perked nipple. You made a small noise, one he loved to hear so much, so he did it again, and again.

“Pretty sure the other one is just as sensitive.”, he murmured and without warning, he pulled down the second cup, tucking it safely under your breast, then got the brush into position. You bucked your hips under him when he twirled the bristles this time.

“You’re right, this is fun.”, he noted and kissed you, not letting up on the teasing with the brush. You ground against him, making him gasp into the kiss.

“Will you finally focus on your studies if I give you what you want?” He had trouble catching his breath, was met with a very enthusiastic nod, and kissed you again.

Kei moved back, slowly dragging your sweats down with him, and had to suppress a dreamy groan. You were nothing short of perfection. With the pudgy tummy, the generous love handles, and full thighs you had always reminded him of beauty depicted in Renaissance paintings.

He shifted to lay on his stomach, propped up on his forearms, spinning the brush in his long fingers. A little spring of pride bloomed in him when he noticed a wet patch on your panties already.

The more he dragged the brush over the soaked fabric the more he noticed a definite gleam on the bristles. With the very tip of it, he focused on the pronounced little nub of your clit and was rewarded with a high moan. He was curious if he’d be able to make you cum just with a simple little painter’s brush when the door to his room slid open.

“WOAH!”

Akiteru spun around to look away.

“Sorry! I just heard a noise and - don’t mind me.”

“Why aren’t you in Tokyo?!”, Kei yelled in frustration, scrambling to his feet. A low rustling behind him told him you followed his example.

“Needed some fresh air?” His brother shrugged awkwardly, still with his back to him. “I’ll uhm… I’ll head to the convenience store. Should take me maybe 20 minutes. Do with that information what you will.”

He grabbed around behind him to find the handle before pulling the door closed again, then called from the hallway, “I’ll bring you some snacks!”

Kei exhaled, rubbing his eyes under his glasses, “I’m sorry… y/n, I- mfpg”, he was interrupted by you turning his head and yanking him down to you by the collar of his shirt to kiss him.

“You heard him, 20 minutes. Let’s go.”

a/n: reader was on mission! Thank you to the anon who requested this prompt! I hope you enjoyed it 🌟

[corkinavoid]

The Tip Of The Iceberg · Owl City

Grumpy x sunshine

Winter wonderland

DPxDC Love at Frost Sight

Jason's favorite season of the year was fall. Early fall, to be exact, when the trees become red and golden, and the air smells of pumpkin spice because of all the coffeeshops simultaneously deciding it's the time to bring it back once again, and it's not yet cold enough to wear a coat, but just cool enough to put on a comfy sweater.

On the other hand, his least favorite season was winter. All of it, starting from late November and ending in early April. His bones ached in the cold that no coat could manage to keep out, the roads were always slippery, no matter how much salt was thrown over them, and he despised the amounts of hot tea he had to drink to keep himself from freezing to death.

Not to mention the lack of sunlight, the vitamins he had to take daily, the shiver that ran down his body when he stepped out of the shower and-

"You know, if you keep frowning like that, people are going to start thinking I've brought you here under the threat of a gun."

Jason blinks and tears his gaze away from the dimly lit, snowy scenery of Robinson Park and looks to Jazz, who is walking just beside him, a steaming cup of coffee in her fingers. She looks beautiful, even wearing a puffy purple jacket that makes her look like an off-color penguin and a knitted hat that hides all her red hair.

Jason huffs and rubs his forehead, smoothing the wrinkle between his eyebrows manually.

"You still hadn't told me why are we taking a walk in the park instead of doing literally anything else," he reminds her, and Jazz smiles, holding her chin higher.

"I have my reasons," she tells, her voice full of mischief. Jason rolls his eyes and hides his freezing palms deeper in his pockets. "We're almost there, don't roll your eyes at me," Jasmine shorts a short laugh and pokes him in the side.

Almost where, he wants to ask, because he is pretty sure she can't show him anything he hasn't seen before in here. He is a Gothamite, after all, and she just moved here two years ago, and Robinson Park couldn't have changed that much since his whole dying and coming back act.

But then, Jazz finishes her coffee in a few large gulps, tossing the empty cup into the nearest bin, and takes his elbow, all but dragging him forward, off the path and into the who knows where.

Jason stumbles over his feet but catches himself quickly enough to not faceplant the snow. Yet, that doesn't help in the slightest with figuring out where they are going because, well, it's half-past-six, which means it's already rather dark around them even with all of the street lights, and Jazz can be really fast when she wants to, and-

"Here," his impossible girlfriend suddenly stops, so abruptly like she's just ran into a wall. Jason, despite all his vigilante training, is not capable of canceling the laws of inertia on command, so he takes a few more steps forward to slow down.

"And what exactly is here?" He shakes his head, trying very hard not to snap, because he is cold, and he doesn't like surprises, and Jazz can be frustrating more than she likes to admit. But, before she can answer, and before Jason is able to put all that winter irritation into words, there's a snap.

Jason turns his head sharply, looking for the source of it just out of habit.

And halts, feeling his eyes go wide and his head completely empty.

The lights appear one by one, a slow, charming process of illuminating the small clearing they've run into. Warm and fuzzy, like tiny stars, or maybe fairy lights, but with no strings to hold them, they light up the trees and the sparkling, untouched snow under their feet. Jason blinks. The sight that he's grown to associate only with those decorative glass balls full of fake snow doesn't shatter.

And, to be fair, Jason knew winter could be beautiful - he's seen countless pictures and movies, and he understood the appeal it had on some people. But he's never really felt it, what with winters in Gotham, even at Christmas Eve, being more glum and gray than sparkling white and twinkling pretty.

But this is exactly that.

The tall trees covered in white snow, the gentle fall of snowflakes over them, the bright yellow lights that surround them.

"Close your mouth, love, you'll catch a cold," he hears Jazz say with a fond, soft laugh, and only then he realizes he is gaping.

His mouth closes back with a snap as he turns to face his girlfriend.

"How did you..." he trails off, not even sure what he's asking. How did she bring a fairytale into life? How did she find this place? How did she manage to bring him here?..

Jazz's teal eyes hold the reflections of countless warm lights around them, and she is grinning from ear to ear, her hand finding Jason's to intertwine their fingers.

"Danny helped," she admits, "But I just wanted you to see it. See why I love winter - not just because my brother is a living icicle, but because winter is magic, in a sense. It's only in winter that you can feel what's really warm and what's not."

Jason has half of a thought to ask her what she means, but he gets it just a moment before the words fall out of his mouth.

Because this, standing in the silent snowfall among the tiny lights of miniature stars, holding Jazz's hand in his, is warm. Not in a literal sense - his skin is still moments away from freezing - but something inside his chest feels like a tiny, flickering flame.

And that flame makes him smile.

"It's very pretty," he says, not taking his eyes off Jazz, and watches her cheeks become pink.

Somehow, he is certain it's not because of the cold.

~•~•~•~

This was written to not one but two Owl City songs. The first one was, as requested, 'The Tip of The Iceberg', and the second was 'Peppermint Winter', my all-time favorite winter song.

And here's the additional aesthetic!

Danny, who is responsible for the gently falling snowflakes and keeping the lights from going out, sitting invisible in a tree above them: what great lengths do I go for you, Jazz, you better get me something nice for Christmas or I swear to Ancients-

[misshoneyimhome]

What’s up buttercups! 🎄✨

We’re slowing things down a bit for something more romantic—at least for a little while 🥰 It’s time for another chapter of Sexy Christmas ☃︎, and this one brings the festive heat with none other than our captain himself, Nico Hischier ❤️🔥

Writing this chapter was an absolute joy. Nico’s charm, vulnerability, and sweet intensity shine in this holiday tale, and I hope it captures all the magic of the season with just the right sprinkle of spice 🌟

Wishing you all a warm and magical holiday filled with love, laughter, and just a bit of passion. 🎁✨

Merry reading, my loves! 💕

➼｡ﾟ

Steamy Christmas Eve Confession - Nico Hischier

During a cosy Christmas Eve dinner, one of them confesses their long-hidden feelings. What starts as an innocent conversation turns into a passionate Christmas confession neither of them expected.

Tropes & warnings: 18+ smut, Nico Hischier x reader, fingering, protected sex (p in v), Christmas eve with Nico's family in the living room.

Word count: 2.3K

The smell of roasted pork and fondue chinoise filled the air, mingling with the soft sounds of Christmas music drifting from the living room. The Hischier home was a picture-perfect holiday scene, with fairy lights twinkling across the walls and a beautifully adorned tree standing proudly in the corner. It was warm, welcoming, and filled with the laughter and chatter of Nico’s family.

This year, Christmas Eve felt different—charged with a quiet intensity that you couldn’t quite place. Nico had invited you to join his family after learning you’d be spending the evening alone, and though you’d hesitated at first, the gentle way he’d taken your hand and said, “It wouldn’t be Christmas without you,” had left you unable to refuse.

Throughout the evening, Nico had barely left your side. His hand brushed yours as he passed you dishes, his laugh echoed warmly when you made a joke, and his eyes lingered on you in ways that left your cheeks flushed. The unspoken tension that had always simmered between you felt magnified, pulling you closer to him even amidst the festive chaos.

Dinner had been filled with stories and teasing, his family’s warmth making you feel like one of them. But as the plates were cleared and everyone settled into the cosy comfort of the living room, Nico leaned toward you, his voice low and private as he said, “Can we talk for a minute?”

You nodded, your heart fluttering as he took your hand and led you down the hallway, away from the soft hum of his family’s conversation. His bedroom was quiet and dimly lit, a sanctuary compared to the lively energy of the rest of the house. The door clicked softly behind you, and when you turned to face him, his expression had shifted—his usual easy confidence replaced by something more vulnerable, more serious.

“I didn’t mean to steal you away,” Nico began, his hands fidgeting slightly at his sides, “but there’s something I’ve been wanting to say. And I didn’t want to wait anymore.”

Your breath caught, the charged energy between you heightening as he took a step closer. “What is it?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He hesitated, running a hand through his dark hair, before meeting your gaze. “I’ve been thinking about this for a while—about us. You’re one of the most important people in my life, and I’ve been too scared to say this because I didn’t want to lose what we have. But after tonight, I just can’t keep it to myself anymore.”

Your pulse quickened, the weight of his words settling in your chest. “Nico…” you started, but he shook his head gently, his lips curving into a soft, almost nervous smile.

“I like you,” he admitted, his voice steady but tinged with vulnerability. “More than just a friend. And I have for a long time.”

The air in the room seemed to still, the only sound the faint murmur of Christmas music and laughter drifting down the hall. His gaze searched yours, his eyes filled with hope and a hint of fear as he waited for your response.

For a moment, you were too stunned to speak, your heart pounding as his confession replayed in your mind. Then, slowly, you stepped closer, your hand reaching out to rest on his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath your palm. “I’ve liked you too,” you whispered, your voice trembling with the weight of your own feelings. “For so long.”

Relief washed over his face, his smile widening as he closed the small gap between you. “You mean it?” he asked, his tone soft and disbelieving.

You nodded, your breath hitching as his hands came up to cradle your face, his touch warm and grounding. “I mean it,” you said, and before you could say anything more, his lips were on yours.

The kiss was tentative at first, filled with the nervous energy of two people finally crossing a line they’d both been tiptoeing around for years. But as you melted into him, his arms wrapping around you and pulling you flush against him, it deepened into something more. His lips moved with a certainty that made your knees weak, and when he pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, his breath mingling with yours, he whispered, “Sorry for waiting so long.”

The room felt warmer, the scent of pf Christmas roast and sweets  more vibrant, as you leaned into him, smiling against his lips. “Better late than never.”

The warmth of Nico’s breath lingered against your lips as his forehead rested against yours. The soft glow of the fairy lights illuminated the raw emotion in his honey-brown eyes, and the steady beat of his heart echoed in the space between you. His hands, warm and steady, framed your face, his thumbs brushing gently along your cheekbones, as though grounding himself in the reality of the moment.

“I’ve always wanted to touch you like this,” Nico murmured, his voice a low rasp that sent shivers down your spine. “To feel you.” His gaze dropped to your lips, lingering for a moment before he leaned in, capturing them in a kiss that was slow and deliberate, but charged with unspoken longing.

Your hands rested around his neck as you pulled him closer. The kiss deepened, his tongue brushing against yours in a rhythm that made your knees weaken. His arms moved to circle your waist, pulling you flush against him, the heat of his body seeping into yours as the world outside his room seemed to fade away.

His lips left yours, trailing along your jawline until they found the sensitive spot just below your ear. “I want you to be mine,” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin, his hands sliding down to rest on your hips. His fingers gripped you firmly, his restraint barely holding as he fought the urge to give in completely.

The two of you knew the risk—his family was just down the hall, immersed in holiday cheer—but the pull between you was impossible to resist. This had been building for far too long, and there was no stopping it now. You needed this moment, this release, to finally give in to everything you’d both been holding back.

“Nico… I’m already yours,” you whispered, your voice trembling as your fingers deftly found the buttons of his shirt, eager to feel more of him.

You fumbled slightly in your haste, your need for him outweighing your coordination. He chuckled softly, his lips brushing against your ear as he murmured, “Let me help.”

With practiced ease, he undid the buttons, shrugging the shirt off and tossing it aside. Your hands roamed over his bare chest, tracing the hard planes of muscle and the soft warmth of his skin. The way his body responded to your touch—the slight hitch in his breath, the way his hands tightened on your waist—sent a surge of confidence through you.

When his hands found the zipper at the back of your dress, he hesitated, his dark eyes meeting yours. “Okay?” he asked, his voice rough but tender.

“Yes,” you whispered, the word barely audible as you nodded. The soft smile that curved his lips melted your heart as he gently pulled the zipper down, his hands steady as he slid the fabric from your shoulders. The dress pooled at your feet, leaving you standing before him in nothing but your lingerie.

His gaze roamed over you, the admiration in his eyes unmistakable. “Can’t believe I waited this long,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion as his hands returned to your waist, his thumbs brushing over the bare skin just above the lace of your underwear.

You reached for his belt, your fingers working quickly to unfasten it and push his jeans down over his hips. The bulge in his boxers pressed against you as he stepped closer, his hands sliding up your back to unhook your bra. The straps slipped from your shoulders, and the garment joined the growing pile of clothes on the floor.

Nico’s hands covered your breasts, his touch reverent yet insistent as his thumbs brushed over your hardened nipples. The sensation sent a spark of pleasure through you, and you gasped softly, your body arching into his touch. His lips found yours again, the kiss deeper this time, hungrier, as though he couldn’t get enough of you.

He guided you backward until the backs of your knees hit the bed, lowering you onto the soft mattress with a care that left you breathless. Crawling a bit backwards, Nico’s body hovered over yours, his weight pressing into you just enough to make your heart race. His lips trailed down your neck, his teeth grazing your collarbone before continuing their path lower.

When his mouth closed over one of your breasts, his tongue circling your sensitive peak, a soft moan escaped you, your hands tangling in his hair as your body arched toward him. His free hand slid down your side, tracing the curve of your hip before slipping beneath the waistband of your underwear. The first brush of his fingers against your core made you gasp, your hips lifting instinctively toward his touch.

“You’re so wet,” he murmured, his voice filled with awe as his fingers explored you, stroking with a precision that left you trembling. His lips returned to yours, swallowing your soft cries as his movements grew more deliberate, his thumb finding your clit and circling it with slow, deliberate pressure.

“Nico… please,” you gasped, your body on fire as the tension built, coiling tighter with every touch.

He groaned at your plea, his hand leaving you only long enough to push your underwear down and toss it aside. His boxers followed, leaving him bare before you. When he settled between your thighs, the heat of his skin against yours sent a shiver racing down your spine. Every movement felt deliberate, charged with the weight of unspoken longing that had finally found its release.

“You’re perfect,” Nico murmured, his voice a low rasp as his hand reached for the nightstand. He pulled out a condom, his movements steady and deliberate as he tore it open. His forehead rested against yours, the intimacy of the moment making your breath hitch as he rolled it on, his eyes never leaving yours.

Lining himself up with your entrance, his free hand settled on your hip, his thumb brushing soft circles over your skin. “Tell me if it’s too much,” he said, his voice filled with both tenderness and restraint, his gaze searching yours for any hesitation.

Your heart raced, your body humming with anticipation as you shook your head. “It’s not too much,” you whispered, your voice trembling but sure. “It’s perfect.”

Nico’s lips curved into a soft smile, the tension in his body palpable as he began to press into you, his movements slow and careful. The stretch was intense but exquisite, the sensation leaving you breathless as he filled you completely. His groan of pleasure mixed with your soft gasp, the connection between you both deep and electrifying.

He paused for a moment, his forehead still pressed to yours, his lips brushing lightly against your temple. His hands caressed your sides, his touch grounding you as he gave you a moment to adjust. “Are you okay?” he asked softly, his voice thick with emotion.

You nodded, your hands gripping his shoulders as you whispered, “More than okay.”

Encouraged by your response, Nico began to move, his thrusts slow and deliberate, each one sending ripples of pleasure through your body. His hands clenched the sheets on either side of you, as he found a rhythm that felt as though it had always been meant for you. The sounds of your mingled breaths and soft moans filled the room, the intimacy between you magnified by the flickering glow of the Christmas lights outside the window.

The way he moved, the way his body fit perfectly against yours, made you feel completely consumed by him. Every thrust, every touch, every whispered word of affection deepened the connection between you, the years of unspoken feelings finally given the space to bloom.

When he leaned down to kiss you, it was slow and consuming, his lips capturing yours in a way that made the world outside the room fade into oblivion. The tension between you built steadily, the heat rising as your bodies moved together in perfect synchrony, each touch and shift bringing you closer to the edge. His hands gripped your hips, guiding you, his whispered praises mingling with your soft gasps.

“Nico…” you breathed, your voice trembling as the wave of pleasure built inside you, sharp and unrelenting.

“Mmm, yes… baby, yes,” he growled deeply, the sound vibrating through you, making your body arch instinctively into his.

It wasn’t about anything deliberate; it was simply the way your bodies fit together, the way you responded to each other so naturally, so perfectly, that brought you closer and closer to the edge. The rhythm, the connection—it was overwhelming.

“Nico, I’m gonna—” The words barely escaped your lips before the crest hit, the perfect angle of his cock striking that sensitive spot repeatedly, sending a shockwave of pleasure through you. Your climax overtook you, leaving you trembling, your body clenching around him as you cried out his name.

The feeling of your release pulled him into his own, his hips stuttering as his thrusts grew more erratic. A deep, guttural groan escaped him as he followed you over the edge, his body pressing tighter against yours as he spilled into the condom, the intensity leaving him shaking.

For a moment, neither of you moved, your breaths heavy and uneven, mingling in the heated space between you. Nico buried his face in the crook of your neck, his arms wrapping tightly around you as though anchoring himself.

When he finally lifted his head, his eyes met yours, warm and filled with an emotion that made your chest ache. “Merry Christmas,” he whispered, his lips curving into a soft, boyish smile.

“Merry Christmas, Nico,” you replied, your own smile mirroring his as you brushed a strand of hair from his face, the moment feeling impossibly perfect.

[ihatedtoadmit]

Art study

pairing: Bang Chan x gn! reader

genre: ...suggestive

warnings: nothing actually happens, so none besides teasing

word count: ~1.3k

summary: You're doing an art study on muscles, and who's a better candidate for reference than your wonderful boyfriend who keeps feeding his delulu fanbase with half-naked pictures?

a/n: Well well well, Nat, you don't have to pay to see me write something like this after all (if you will ever see this, because no chance am I tagging you or anyone, dear). Here, have fun, this is the most spice anyone can get out of my asexual ass.

↳ Main Masterlist

All rights reserved. Please do not steal, repost or feed my work into AI. Thank you!

You were a very reserved person, something your partner knew all too well. Every touch the two of you shared throughout the entirety of your relationship had no heat behind it, each one only fueled by pure adoration and love. Never once did a kiss turn hungry, hell, there had barely been any kisses the two of you had shared due to your lack of need for the action. Chan knew it all too well, and while he craved more, he also respected it. The last thing he wanted to do was to make you uncomfortable, and so he’d never stepped over that line.

That was the exact reason for his current shyness, the confusion that wanted to sit onto his face hard to mask. There he stood in your doorway, the desk before your hunched form cluttered with pencils and little crumbs of dirty erasers. You were entirely too focused on the task at hand to notice your boyfriend's presence, the song that flowed through your headphones much too loud to hear any footsteps or even words. And so you continued drawing, clueless about anything as your lover watched you work, eyes flitting between your sketch and the endless reference pictures on your screen.

Pictures about him, his back fully on display and unclothed.

A touch broke you out of your concentration as you erased a line for the fourth time, scaring you into throwing away the pencil in your clutches just so you could tear the headphones off your head.

“Interesting art you have there, love.” - Chan mused, yet his skin was as flushed as ever.

You joined him as you could feel your own skin heating up, ashamed that you’d been caught like this. Eyes looked at everything besides your boyfriend, yet you found comfort in that warm touch of his.

“I was just… doing a study, on muscles.” - the words were but a mere whisper, hand quickly reaching to minimise your browser and just hide it from a certain pair of prying eyes.

Still, there was a feeling clawing at the cage of your soul, ripping at the flesh to be let out and rampage freely. It was feral and vicious, planting a thought into your head that seemed impossible to get out, no matter how alien it felt. You could feel your breath hitch at the image that popped into your head, memories of the images you had been staring at for a while now overlapping.

The hand on your shoulder gently squeezed, breaking you out of your derailing thoughts.

“I don't mind, baby, it just… caught me off guard? Glad you enjoyed my performances though.” - Chan’s voice was light, mixing well with the shyness he was trying to hide.

It only urged that fierceness inside to break free, granting you a surge of confidence you would have never had otherwise.

Without any words you finally glanced up at the man you loved, finding him utterly handsome; you would hone your artistic skills for the rest of your life just to capture a fragment of that beauty. His skin was dusted with a faint red, ears painted by the deepest of shades. Those eyes you loved to get lost in were alight with an emotion you had seen them only hold whenever he looked at the boys, and it took your breath away within a heartbeat.

Your body moved on its own, towering over him as you now stood. His hair was still slightly wet from the shower he must have just taken, and you just knew he had been originally on his way to his room to swap his bathrobe for those comfy, black clothes he loved to don in his free time.

He searched your gaze, unsure, yet trusting. His hands comfortably placed themselves onto your hips; their touch was warm, the man before you always running hot. It was something you loved as he balanced out your always cold hands wonderfully, reaching the perfect temperature you both enjoyed.

“Hey, love. How was work today?” - you asked, leaning closer than usual as you swiped those dark curls out of Chan’s face. He leaned into your touch, eyes closing for a second as he thought about his answer.

“The usual, although Hyunjin managed to piss off Minho again. It was a shoe this time that was the weapon, by the way.” - there was an airiness of joy to his words, yet no laugh accompanied it.

No, Chan was entirely too enamoured with the look you were giving him, as if you were worshipping him with your eyes alone. And maybe you were. With each look you studied the way your lover's skin moved, the shadows conforming accordingly. It lured you in, as if Chan was the siren and you were his prey, fated to be drowned in the vast oceans and seas.

He didn't move as you took him all in, hands eventually unable to keep themselves away. Your fingers were cold against the warmth of his fair skin, and you could hear his breath hitch, the muscles inside his neck moving beautifully.

There was something different in your touch, that much he knew, yet he wouldn't have it any other way.

As if you had never seen anything like it before, your hands glided over any free expanse of skin you could reach, memorising how the muscles hidden beneath curved and jumped at your touch. Never once did your eyes stray, wanting to remember every little detail. You wanted your art to be perfect, after all, to represent the real thing as closely as possible and that meant every little detail in their complete glory.

Your eyebrows furrowed as the white robe blocked you off, and so you slightly slid it off from one of Chan's shoulders. His hold on you tightened and you glanced at him briefly, seeing an intensity burning in those dark eyes, one you had never seen before.

You were playing with fire, and you could feel the heat of the danger.

Despite the clear wanting signs, you ignored them much like Icarus, hands now gliding down your lover's arm. Each touch held meaning, praising him in silence, singing odes about this man’s beauty. There was something so intriguing about watching the muscles connect to skin and bone, oh so perfectly toned and reacting to every touch of yours.

You stepped even closer, breaths mingling together as you reached into his robe, mapping out the vast skin of your partner's back. Every dip, every rise and imperfection was noted inside your head, the scorching star in Chan's eyes only growing in intensity as time passed. Your eyes flitted between those deadly stars and his neck, seeing it strain, muscles so tight that they jumped out of the skin in that lovely V-shape you could never grow bored of.

Then, as if something snapped, he gripped your waist with incredible force, not giving you a chance to escape. Despite that, no fear took residence inside you, your now warm fingers still laid peacefully on his shoulders.

“And what do I owe this extremely special moment to, baby?” - his words were a deep rumble, eyes begging for an answer with desperation.

“For being the most beautiful human to grace this planet, my wonderful love. Be my muse, please. Let me draw you, let me study you.” - you answered, one hand now cupping Chan's cheek tenderly, despite the uniquely heated situation.

As if that was the magic word to undo his binding, your lover moved, hauling your taller form easily onto the bed with him. There you were now, sat on his lap as he looked up at you expectantly, the intensity and love never diminishing in those bright eyes of his. Your sketchbook was still sitting beside you on the bed where you had originally thrown it at, hands itching to take it and immortalise what you had engraved into your mind in the past few minutes.

“I'll be your muse whenever, baby. All you needed to do was ask.”

[actuallysaiyan]

I Think You're Holding The Heart Of Mine(Part I)

warnings: fluff, mutual pining, office relationship, mommy and daddy relationship

word count: 1.1k

pairings: Nanami Kento x Fem!Sorcerer!Reader

summary: as you're lost in thought about your life as a sorcerer and teacher at Jujutsu High, your work husband comes by to surprise you with lunch. and he suggests going to that little pub you enjoy for dinner...only to have Itadori-kun ask such a shameless question

a/n: This is very much inspired by the thirst and fic that @carnal-lnstinct sent in and wrote! I didn't think this would be a multiple part fic, but here we are! I hope to update this little story regularly.

Part two!

Your mind is clouded as you sit at your desk, paperwork forgotten in front of you. Despite the fact that you’ve settled in well at Jujutsu High, you were wondering where this position may lead you. You were wondering if things would evolve into something more than this. Life as a Jujutsu sorcerer was tough enough as it is, but someone was always there to make you feel more at ease.

It started small too, just him being kind to you behind those stoic glances and authoritative words. You were beginning to tear down those walls and see the true Kento underneath it all. And all this because you had proclaimed he was your work husband. It wasn’t something he truly loved to hear at first, but as you continued to treat him kindly, Kento was beginning to love the special treatment.

Your thoughts are interrupted by a knock at your office door and you look up to see the man in question. He’s got a paper bag full of food for lunch and there is a tiny grin on his face as he sees you. Your heart skips a beat at the way he’s playing into this role more than you ever expected him to. You beckon him closer and he sits down on the chair that faces yours. The bag is placed on your desk and your stomach growls the moment you can smell the many scents of spices.

“I got your favorite, honey.” Nanami loves calling you pet names, but it’s always with that teasing tone.

“Awh I should have known my sweetheart would know just what to perk me up.”

He pulls out the boxes of take-out and hands you a set of disposable chopsticks. Your heart is full of love for a man who you know isn’t actually your husband. But damn, you can’t help but really be in love with him most days. You’d do just about anything for him to slide a beautiful diamond ring on your finger.

The both of you eat comfortably, Nanami inquiring about your day just as a good husband should. You ask about his day, smiling when he mentions Itadori-kun. The first years were so special this year. You knew that Gojo had asked Nanami specifically to take care of the young pink-haired teen, but when you saw just how much Nanami took the young man under his wing, you could tell that there was a strong bond forming there.

“So our little boy is doing well,” you tease the blond man in front of you. 

Nanami blushes slightly but keeps his composure, “Itadori-kun shows promise. Despite the brash way he charges into battle, he is a kindhearted young man.”

Just those words paint such a beautiful picture. You can’t help but fantasize about family movie nights with Itadori coming over and snuggling between you and your husband. You coo softly at the way Nanami is describing the young sorcerer.

You finish up your meal, thanking the blond sorcerer in front of you. Nanami smiles, and this one is a genuine smile. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to hear you thanking him for dinner as well. He was planning on asking you out, strictly as co-workers of course. He doesn’t want you finding out about the feelings that are building so deeply inside of him. If it were up to him, he would have married you quite some time ago.

“I’ve got this paperwork to finish up, then I’m training Kugisaki-san.” You explain to Nanami, and you watch as he wipes his hands on the wet wipe provided by the take-out place.

“I’ve got to get back to training as well with Itadori-kun.”

There’s a silence that falls between you both. Your heart is racing in this moment. You just want to jump over this desk and pin him to the ground. You want to press kisses all over his beautifully chiseled face until there’s red lipstick prints everywhere. But you do no such thing. The two of you exchange a smile and a glance, and it’s almost the kind that suggests you’re both part of an inside joke that the whole world is excluded from.

“How about after work we head to our favorite pub for dinner?” Nanami suggests, praying his tone isn’t too hopeful.

You smile, “That sounds nice. It would be good to get out. It’s been a little bit since we’ve been out.”

He nods, “Yes, I was just thinking that.”

The two of you get up, and Nanami throws the trash from your lunch into the garbage can that’s next to your desk. As you come around the desk, he wishes he could just take your hand in his and walk you outside to the training ground. Instead you both walk side by side and chat lightly about work. 

It’s a mundane feeling for the both of you, but it isn’t boring. It’s sweet and domestic, and everyone knows that you two are pretty much attached at the hip. But yet there always seems to be something keeping you held back from actually making this work relationship into a real one.

You spot Itadori and Kugisaki awaiting the two of you, the pair seem to be gossiping. You always loved the way those two had grown so close, and yet…you wondered if maybe they had something similar going on that mirrored your own relationship with Nanami. You looked at Kento, smirking playfully.

“You sure you won’t be too tired to take your poor wife out to dinner tonight?” You practically purr in his ear.

Nanami shudders, “Please, have a bit more faith in your sweetheart, dear.”

Just the sound of his voice calling you dear has you wondering if you should just confess right here and right now. You want to tell him how badly you have fallen head over heels for him, but you also wonder if that’s just not the right choice. You look at him once more, and you lean in the smooth the collar of his shirt and the lapels of his jacket. His heart skips a beat when you’re this close to him.

“Well, I suppose I have faith in an old man like you.” You rib him, laughing at his reaction.

“You’re three months older than me.” He says, a smirk spreading on his face.

You groan, “Please, don’t remind me.”

You two begin walking over to the first years you’re responsible for. With a final promise to go out for dinner, you part ways. It’s only then you hear Itadori asking your work husband.

“Nanamin, are you sure you and her aren’t actually married?”

[shegatsby]

Summary; Feyd has dreams and finally meets you, he is so overhwelmed by emotions that he paints a picture of you with his blood.

Words: 5. 143K

Warnings: War, fighting, weapons, kidnapping.

A/N: Hi guys! I had this one shot fic idea for a while, here you go. Let me know what you think. xxx It resembls your request to I hope you'll like it babe @ilikefeydrautha

‘’We’re under attack!’’  Your fellow Fremen yelled and with his voice everyone around you geared up in a second. Ever since the fall of House Atreides you have been in numerous battles with the House Harkonnen. At first Duke Leto’s son Paul and his mother Jessice were refugees under your roof, thankfully they grew accustom to your way of life and since then they have been a great help. With their help and strategy you and your people won every battle against Glossu Rabban, however, with the change in command you met someone new. Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, Baron’s youngest nephew. He was much more unpredictable than his older brother Rabban and much more vicious. One night, Jessica, now Fremens’ Reverend Mother, had gathered you and other important soldiers to give information about Feyd-Rautha and you felt your blood run cold even in the hottest planet in the entire galaxy.. he was psychotic. Since you were the daughter of a skilled warrior you were trained as such, and you had responsibilities; leading your people in these dark times. Unfortunately these dark times have been unstoppable.

The first time you had encountered him was at the desert.

You and your group had been trying to steal spice, well, it couldn’t be considered as stealing if it was your own planet.. the Harkonnen soldiers attacked. The open field had turned into a grave, crimson color spread on the sun dust sand which turned it into mud. After slaying a soldier you were pushed to the ground by a kick but you managed to get back up quickly, you were like a garden snake, swift and like liquid, but your opponent was a viper. He was covered in black head to toe but you could tell he was from a higher rank since he got some medals on his broad chest, a worthy opponent to kill and leave his body to Shai-Hulud.

You attacked but he pushed back, under the fire sun you fought, with his elbow he managed to punch back your helmet and it fell to the sand, your face exposed to him…

He didn’t attack but circled you like a predator who is contemplating what to do to his prey. He did something which surprised you.. he removed his helmet and tossed it aside. You took a step back in revelation, thanks to Reverend Mother’s description you knew who your opponent was… Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen himself. The monster who put you and your people in this situation.

Why wasn’t he attacking? His blue eyes under the sun gave the impression of two shiny diamonds, piercing through your skin like the heat. As he circled you and came to a stop he leaned closer, you didn’t know what to do or to say, he made sure to leave a safe distance between the two of you but he was much more closer than before. ‘’Pleasure to meet you, desert flower.’’

The ships to help Harkonnens were approaching and your commander ordered for you and other Fremen to fall back. As you ran you could feel his diamonds on your back, mapping you, his presence made you uneasy and questioning his behavior.. why didn’t he attack?

After meeting him flesh and blood you went to Reverend Mother Jessica, you were hesitant at first, she was on the ground, you could smell the spice coffee she had, the walls of her room held handmade carpets, Jessica’s baby bump getting more and more visible each day, ‘’Come forth young girl.’’ Her voice wasn’t the same as the first week she had been with them, more in charge and demanding. ‘’I am disturbing your meditation, I shall take my leave.’’ You said, regretting that you even went to her in the first place, you were covered in sand and blood, your face burning with embarrassment and the exposure you had from the sun, Jessica’s blue eyes were magnetizing, ‘’Sit.’’ She used the voice on you and you found yourself sitting in front of her, ‘’I’ve heard you had to fall back. What happened?’’ Jessica asked, her question had under tones of deep curiosity for something else.  ‘’We were ambushed.’’ You shortly replied. ‘’You have met him, haven’t you?’’ with the mention of him Jessica noticed the change in your posture, you were alert. ‘’Be not afraid child, he cannot reach you here. Now, pray ell. What happened?’’

You found yourself giving each detail to her.

‘’So chose not to attack you… how strange..’’ Jessica was more talking to herself than you, ‘’You are dismissed.’’ And you left without getting any explanation of answers.

Ever since that incident you kept battling him or his soldiers, you were so fed up with the situation that you prayed to Shai-Hulud to end this war one way or another… you would come to realize in near future that when one prays for something one should be specific.

The second time you have seen him was at the skirts of the palace which Harkonnens had built 80 plus years ago when they first sent to your planet by the emperor. How you loathed the man.

You and your team’s plan was to provoke the Harkonnens by bombing their walls, creating damage and most importantly pissing them off. You couldn’t finish planting all of the bombs because alarms started to go off but that was enough anyway, it was close to dawn. Your fellow Fremen were brave and fighting the enemy like drinking fresh water… insanely devoted.

A bulky man was your opponent, he had a war, carrying it both of his hands, it was so heavy that whenever he missed hitting you hit the ground you felt its earthquake. You didn’t want to imagine the damage it would inflict on you.. imminent death.

‘’She is mine!’’ you heard a man scream with a raspy voice and in a second the bulk man with the hammer lost his head with a swift blade motion, you jumped back and fell on your arse, the bulky man’s head rolling towards you, you pushed your body back to get away and you saw him. Feyd-Rautha just killed one of his solider and stepped on his dead body to come to you…

You kept slithering back on the sand, the sky was getting brighter with each minute, the heat getting higher. He used his heavy boot to press on your ankle and make you stop getting away from him and you screamed in pain and cursed. With his heavy boot still pressing on your ankle he knelt down to be on the eye level with you, ‘’Hello again.’’ His pale face made him look like he was sculptured by most talented artist of ancient times, his shiny eyes never leaving yours, he then looked at his hand which was holding the blade and then looked back at you. His hand came to your face, you didn’t have your helmet, only a dirty scarf covering your face, except eyes. How did he even knew it was you?

With the tip of the blade he cut open yours scarf and revealed your face to him, ‘’There she is.’’ His voice raw and dominant, it made you shiver in fear and curiosity.

Your ankle was hurting you but you held your face blank as much as you can, didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. How could he look so calm and collective while there is a chaos surrounding him, Fremens and Harkonnens fighting to death. You tried to pull your leg but he didn’t budge and it hurt even more, ‘’Why so hasty desert flower?’’ he mocked, you noticed the smirk shaping on his plump lips. You refused to give in so you kept your mouth shut, didn’t want him to get a reaction from you. The tip of his blade traced the strand of your hair, his eyes observing your hair like it was the most important thing in the world. Why was he interested in your hair anyway? With his other hand he grabbed your hair and pulled your scalp, you yelped. He cut few strands of your hair, you froze in your state, he lifted his hand to show you, ‘’Till next time.’’ He got to his feet and left you there.

This time you didn’t go to her, the Reverend Mother came to you, you were in your room applying a soothing gel to your ankle. As soon as you saw her you tried to get up in respect, ‘’Relax child, sit down.’’ You did what you were told. She came to sit next to you on your bed, ‘’I’ve heard some rumors and I wanted to hear the truth from you.’’ And you told her what happened, Reverend Mother Jessica looked deep in thought, calculating. ‘’Maybe there is hope for us yet.’’ She said turning to caress your cheek, like a mother caring for her child, you didn’t understand the ‘’hope’’ in question but these were dark times and your people relied on hope to survive for centuries.

And you were under attack few weeks later of that incident. Guess the Harkonnes needed time to build back the walls you had bombed. But how could they find the secret siech you wondered. Was there a rat among you? There was no time to think, you geared up and left your room to fight, ‘’Get women and children out of here.’’ You told one of your men and moved to the battle, in the common area of the siech your men and warrior women were fighting the monsters, Harkonnen war drums were beating so loud and deep, you felt he vibration in your body. You could see the monsters with torches, burning the messenger birds, birds that you had been taking care of… you found yourself screaming in primal hate and you marched to the closest Harkonnen soldier to kill, you were so quick the man didn’t even see it coming. You sliced his throat like it was nothing and kept moving, slaughtering men after men with your lust for blood your fellow Fremen warriors got the courage that needed, your home was invaded and you had nothing to lose at this point. Or so you thought.

You climbed on top of a rock to see the battle field, you could see Harkonnens popping up from every whole like a bug infestation.

You could also see how your folk falling to the ground, monsters were too many and you had to do something about it and you heard the drums change rhythm. He was coming.

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen marched in with soldiers on his left and right, slaughtering men who stepped on his path. He walked like a man who owned the entire galaxy.

You jumped from the rock to keep fighting, you either won or die among your people.

Soon you have come to realize that Feyd was after you, his soldiers were opening the way for him to reach you and you kept changing your location, ‘’Get her!’’ the battle scene was hectic, screams filled your ears, you were covered in blood, you weren’t sure if it belonged to you or someone else.

A hand grabbed you by the hair and yanked you back, a kick came to your knee to make you kneel, you screamed in pain and looked up it was a Harkonnen soldier, smiling down at you like an animal.

Feyd-Rautha came, focused on the man who was still holding you by the hair, ‘’How dare you touch her hair!?’’ his scream made you look at him, with a quick move he cut the man’s hand and the hand dropped, the solider screamed in pain and fell on his knees next to you and Feyd beheaded him.

The man’s blood splashed on your face, you closed your eyes to pray, he was going to kill you, you were sure of it. You have heard that he loved to play with his victims and then kill them, he had play with you long enough, it was your time and you welcomed death.

A woman’s voice was heard and you opened your eyes.

‘’ENOUGH!’’ Reverend Mother Jessica yelled using the voice, her hands up she was standing on the highest rock, ‘’Tonight we shall end this bloodshed once and for all!’’ her voice was so demanding and dominant, everyone stopped and looked at her, including Feyd.

‘’Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, leave our lands, let us harvest spice and end this warfare, and we shall give you what you want.’’

You didn’t believe that this animal could agree on something and leave you all alone.

‘’My terms are this,’’ he began, looking directly at Jessica, everything seemed off putting to you. Like there was something behind this scene.

‘’I will have 90% of the spice. I don’t want any Fremen at the city and outskirts of it. ’’ He said his terms,  Jessica nodded, ’’Then you shall have it. Tonight marks the day-‘’ Feyd caught her speech, holding the room’s full attention,

‘’And I want her, as war prize.’’ He pointed to your direction, you were still on your knees. Your breath caught up in your throat, your fellow Fremen looked at each other in shock, an outsider having a Fremen as a war prize? No way.

‘’Then it is settled.’’ Jessica’s words cut you like a hot blade, you were in hypnotic state, not understanding what was going on. Feyd held your arm to make you stand up and you started to scream like a mad woman.

‘’No, let go of me, no, no!’’ you screams could be heard outside of the siech. Over minutes you were placed on a ship and taken away from your home, your desert.

The doctor inside the ship gave you a glass of water and within seconds you passed out.

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen boarded the other ship after he gathered his troops, he had to go back to Giedi Prime, his servants had already sent his belongings back to his home planet, and after tonight he had to go back, report to his uncle and take care of his business there, he had been in Arrakis long enough and since he had established a good spice deal there was no point for him to stay there. He laid on his bed and as he drifted to sleep his mind was on her and how he got her.

Feyd-Rautha was having his breakfast when he received a message, the language was foreign to him so he had to get it translated. In the message it said that Lady Jessica was willing to make truce in exchange of something they both need. Feyd had sent his spies first, he tracked Lady Jessica and they met in secret. At first he thought this was a scam but Lady Jessica had promised to him that they would benefit from this truce.

‘’A little bird told me you have taken an interest in someone… Is it true? If it is then we can come to an agreement.’’ Reverend Mother spoke, there was a safe distance between them, ‘’What if I have? What are you willing to give me?’’ he questioned, his neck moving like a snake, ‘’Leave us alone, have some of the spice so that your uncle wouldn’t get suspicious and you can keep her to yourself. How does that sound?’’

After their secret agreement she gave the directions to the secret siech and they staged the entire battle. If the battle wasn’t realistic no one would believe them.

Feyd didn’t know why but ever since he saw her he kept having these dreams, she haunted him day and night so much so that he found himself drawing her on a gigantic canvas, every time he got a pen and paper he found himself drawing her eyes, her mouth, her hands.. he didn’t believe in coincidences, the universe put her in his path for something…

You opened your eyes in a comfortable bed, the comfort made you question your surroundings since you weren’t used to it, your head was pounding like a hammer to a rock, you slowly sit and look around. You were in a big room, the walls were black, also the furniture, the bed you were in was bigger than your own bed and the fabric made it feel like liquid running through your skin, your hand went to your head and noticed the dampness on your hair, you smelled your hair and it smelled like roses.. when you noticed your lace night gown you jumped to your feet, it was long and had laces, you ran to the nearest tall mirror and looked at your reflection, you had bruises due to the fight.. yes the battle. You tried to remember what had happened..

The fight

Reverend Mother and Feyd-Rautha’s agreement…

Everything came back to you like a running stream…

So that wasn’t a nightmare, you were actually kidnapped and brought somewhere you do not know. You walked through the open doors of your room’s balcony, the sun was out but something was different. Everything looked black and white and you were surely not in Arrakis anymore, how long have you slept? Most importantly who bathe you and made you were this gown, as you stood there watching troops walk into the fortress you were trapped in you noticed how black the walls of the fortress, this wasn’t a friendly planet.

The metal doors of the room you were trapped in opened wide by two guards who were covered in black, a bald female servant walked in, her head was low, and in front of her there was an another woman who was older than the servant, she wore doctor’s uniform but it was also black like other people’s clothing. ‘’I am here to examine you, my lady.’’ You were standing on the threshold of the balcony watching them ‘’Lady?’’  you thought, ‘’Please sit.’’ The old woman said with an authoritative tone, she was also bald, you immediately moved away from them, you looked around to find a weapon but the room was so basic you started to panic, ‘’My lady, please calm down.’’ The old woman warned, you started to scream like a savage and threw the lamp on the nightstand by the bed you woke up in, the old woman covered her face with both of her hands, she was carrying a leather bag, ‘’My Lady please, I have to run some tests and give you hormonal vitamins to make you more fertile-‘’

You froze, ‘’fertile’’ for what? Your panic grew more in your stomach and chest, the room was suffocating you.

You wished you were on the desert, the scent of spice in your nostrils, riding a sandworm. You threw whatever you could find, you didn’t even utter a word you simply screamed at them.

Soon the doctor and servant left you alone, you could hear the heavy lock on the doors.

You were marching up and down when your doors opened again, and you saw him. Followed by the doctor and the servant girl again, ‘’My Lord,’’ the doctor began, they were watching you rather examining you like an exotic animal. ‘’She has been difficult.’’ The doctor said looking him but Feyd-Rautha’s blue eyes were fixated on you. He was in more casual clothing, his hand behind his back, he seemed more in his element here, ‘’Leave us.’’ His raspy voice made you shiver, with his order they left the room and when the doors locked you were alone with him.. in a room where you are trapped.

You didn’t say anything but watched him, he looked around, ‘’Don’t worry you’ll be moved to a better place once I get things done.’’ He was talking as if you were his friend or.. someone close to him…

You refused to speak. He was walking around the room, ‘’We’re in Giedi Prime, my home planet.’’ He began coming closer to you, you found yourself walking back slowly. Being in his presence was something you experienced before but it was always in a battle, he looked so calm and collective when there was no chaos.

He came to a stop when he noticed your trembling form, even though you looked sacred you had this fighter aura, he knew no matter what you would be ready. ‘’Let the doctor help you, I chose her specifically because I don’t want any man to touch you.’’ His confession startled you, his pinky finger coming up to your face to removed a strand of hair away from your face, ‘’More beautiful close up.’’ He was more talking to himself as if he was in trance of a witch, ‘’Let them serve you.’’ His eyes moved away from your hair to your face. And with that he turned and left, his march echoing in the room and halls of the fortress.  

You let the doctor and maids help you, your maids explained that this will be your room for a while, they emphasized on the word ‘’for a while’’ you watched the doctor injecting liquid in you so many times, you felt your body like a puppet, being shoved around by people around you.. well.. if you could call them people. What made you curios is that man and women were all bald, skinny and the fear in their eyes were showed you the menace of House Harkonnen. For centuries they brought nothing but suffering to the people they own. And you were one of them now, someone they own.. not even a someone anymore, just a relic to add  Feyd-Rautha’s collection.

‘’My Lady,’’ one of the girl approached, she had a black dress that showed her rank, she was a maid, you turned to her, her head was down, ‘’You can look at me’’ this was the first time in hours you have spoken which startled the poor little girl, she slowly raised her gaze, she had jet black eyes, ‘’If you would like to see the fortress I can escort you.’’ Her offer med you smile in pain, even the servants pitied you it seemed. ‘’I would love that.’’

Together you left the room you occupied, you have heard so many storied about House Harkonnen’s fortress but nothing compared to what your eyes witnessed. A magnificent jet black fortress, standing proud and tall in the center of the city, walls, floors were mostly made from obsidian, Harkonnens didn’t understand much of furniture and decorating but they knew how to be intimidating.

Guards were at every door, the servant girl showed you the throne room, it was a grand hall with a black throne and steps to reach to it, you felt the thin carpets under your feet, ‘’They are human skin my lady.’’ The girl explained and you could feel your body freeze in disgust, ‘’Animals!’’ you muttered under your breath, ‘’Can we please go somewhere else?’’

The girl took you to the courtyard, you were expecting to find trees or flowers, even in Arrakis some regions had desert plants but here… you found none. Just an open space with pearl white floors and statues, sitting places and guards.

‘’Follow me my lady.’’ The girl said and you followed suit, you walked back into the fortress, this was a prison and you were sure of it now, more than ever. Your heart yearned for your home, the smell of spice in the sand, riding your sand worm, your community…

What you noticed was that as you walked servants bowed to you, and they kept calling you

 ‘’My Lady’’

You weren’t a lady, you were just a member of a Fremen family who were powerful and influential. Your ancestors were fighters and so are you.

‘’My lady, please wait here, I will fetch you in a minute.’’ The girl bowed and left her in a small library, this must be a personal library. You walked around and read the titles of the books, some were in different languages that you don’t know, some Chakobsa, your native tongue.

You loved the smell of books and tranquility this room held, you felt at ease, as you were walking around you saw a door, it was slightly opened, something in you warned but your curiosity got the best of you and with caution you approached to the wooden door, you were surprised that this fortress had wooden doors because they were mostly metal or stone.

With your left hand you opened the room and thankfully no one was there. It was a small room, as soon as you entered you could smell the carpet’s scent.. it was spice, most likely came from your home planet. The walls were also wooden and dark red, by the wall you saw a huge canvas, it was covered with a dirty white sheet, near the canvas a set of brushes and painting materials were on display, you wondered who was the owner of this painting room.

Your Fremen senses were begging you to leave but your feet approached to the canvas and your hand grabbed the dirty sheet to reveal the painting behind it and what you saw made you take a step back and inhale in shock.

The painting was mostly finished, on the surface you saw Arrakis’s desert, sun was setting and you were standing in the middle, in your warrior suit and yet your hair was loose, as you observed the painting you noticed the crimson color on your hair, you got close and you could smell it.. it was blood. Someone was painting you and used blood to paint your hair… but why?

Even though the entire situation made your heart beat in fear you were also in awe of the painting. Whoever did it must be a great artist, the details of you and Arrakis were uncanny.

You and the painting version of you were staring at each other, you were captivated by the entire painting when you heard the sound of the door closing behind you and you jumped in fear. When you turned you saw him, locking the door and leaning his back against it, his hands behind his back, a strange calmness on his pale face.

‘’You shouldn’t be here desert flower.’’ His raspy voice was low and serene.

His sleeves were rolled up and you noticed the knife scars on his hands and wrists, ‘’I should thank your maids for they know how to make dresses fit you so well.’’

And you lowered your head to look at the dress they had made you wear, a dark blue dress with open chest and back, the cut on the chest would made any men lower their eyes on your firm bosom. The fabric was satin and to Feyd it made every male being on this planet to crave to feel it on you and he loathed that idea.

You noticed that he put the key into his pocket and his posture got tall, now his hands were in his pockets, ‘’Do you like it?’’ he mentioned the painting but you kept your silence, you never uttered a word to him directly and you could see it was driving him mad. He exhaled in annoyance, ‘’Until I met you I have never believed in fate, dreams or any prophecies really,’’ he began approaching to the tall window, his back was turned to you know, ‘’What I knew was that the world was black and white, strong and weak, dominant and submissive…’’

You walked away from the painting and put a safe space between you and him, even if it meant you would be at the corner of the room, ‘’Before I left Giedi Prime to govern Arrakis I had a dream,’’ you could sense how thrilling he was to tell you the story, ‘’In the dream I saw you, all I thought was that I had a dream of some random girl, and that was it… but when I saw you first time on the battle field…  when your helmet fell off I didn’t know what to do desert flower, there you were.. the girl from my dream.’’

‘’That’s why you didn’t attack me.’’ You gasped in shock, your folk believed in dreams and prophecies but you had never expected to find yourself in one. As soon as you spoke he turned to you with a smile, a brutal smile on his plump lips, ‘’Yes!’’ he exclaimed with such happiness it confused you, ‘’I have spoken to every Bene Gesserit that I could find and finally Reverend Mother Gaius Helen Mohiam came to my rescue…’’

He was starting to take steps towards you, your feet moved to the back and you felt your back make contact with the cold wooden wall, you felt the shiver but you didn’t know if it was because of the wall or his dark aura approaching.  He came to a stop, just few inches between you and him, you had to look up to meet his blue eyes, his eyes were naturally blue not because of spice and it was the first example you have seen in your life. You remembered the oceans Paul told you one night, if those oceans were true than they have a competition because his eyes were more alluring than any ocean can offer. Up this close you could smell his body, gun powder and mint, it was strong.

‘’I had to have you desert flower,’’ back of his fingers traced your cheek and you could feel your face heat up with the tender action. ‘’We are meant to be together. Can’t you see?’’ he started to sound irritated when you didn’t reply to him, you could only stare at his ocean eyes, he pulled you to face the painting, he was standing behind you, one of his hand wrapped around your waist and pulling you to his front body, ‘’Look at her, such a strong and wild creature,’’ he mentioned the painting, ‘’you and I, we are meant to rule Arrakis, two bodies one soul.’’ He had a point, you looked very courageous in the painting. His other hand went to caress your hair, you could feel his nose, smelling.

‘’Say something.’’ He said with a sharp tone, he turned you to face him, holding you by your upper arms, shaking you, ‘’Say something!’’ he raised his voice and when he saw how sacred you were you witnessed the sorrow in his eyes, ‘’I apologies you must be-‘’

‘’Yes.’’ You replied and his orbits grew large with satisfaction, ‘’I will be on your side.’’

''Prove it.'' he said desperately, you lookd around and found a tiny knife, you cut your palm looking into his eyes, and held his hand to cut his palm as well, blood was dripping but you didn't care. You entwined your hands together. With a pleaseing smile he leaned in for a kiss.

Thank you so much for reading. :)

[yoonavii]

Flirting with fire (Pt. 2)

OPLA! Sanji x Reader

A/N: Read PART ONE first before this one. Enjoy :)

The next morning, you made your way to the Baratie’s bustling kitchen, ready to start another day of culinary adventures. As you walked in, the savory aroma of cooking filled the air, but your attention was quickly drawn to the hushed voices coming from the pantry. Curiosity getting the better of you, you lingered by the pantry’s cracked door, unintentionally eavesdropping on a conversation between Zeff, the grizzled old chef of the Baratie, and Sanji, the suave and passionate cook.

Zeff’s gruff voice reached your ears, “Little eggplant, you’re not fooling anyone. I’ve been around long enough to recognize love when I see it. I’m aware of your feelings for y/n. You’ve been taking too long to confess.” Sanji, who was usually quick with his retorts, tried to deny his feelings, “Oi, Zeff, what are you talking about? There’s nothing like that going on.”

Zeff’s eyes bore into Sanji, his tone stern, “Boy, I know you better than you know yourself. Don’t try to hide your heart from me.” Sanji sighed, seemingly defeated, and admitted, “Yeah, Zeff, you’re right. I’ve got feelings for her, but I don’t know how to confess. I can’t even find the right words.”

Zeff chuckled, “Confess? You, who can woo female customers with ease, can’t confess to the one who matters most? That’s rich.” Just then, you cleared your throat, making your presence known. Zeff greeted you with a knowing smile and gave Sanji a subtle wink before leaving the room, leaving you two alone.

An awkward silence hung in the air as you began gathering ingredients from the pantry’s shelves. Sanji, seemingly unable to contain his emotions any longer, followed closely behind you. With a gentle push, he closed the pantry doors, leaving you both in a secluded, intimate space. The tension between you two was palpable; your bodies were practically pressed against the pantry shelves, and you could smell his signature cologne, a mix of tobacco and spices, even more intensely at such close proximity.

Breaking the silence, Sanji took a deep breath, his voice sincere and filled with longing, “I can’t hold it in any longer, y/n. You mean everything to me. When I’m cooking, it’s your smile I picture. When I’m dreaming, it’s your face I see. I’ve been hiding my feelings because I was scared, but now, I can’t. I love you more than anything in this world.” Your heart skipped a beat at his heartfelt confession, and you couldn’t resist any longer. You pulled him closer by his tie, capturing his lips in a passionate and fiery kiss. The world outside the pantry seemed to disappear as the two of you lost yourselves in each other’s embrace.

As the kiss deepened, your hands explored each other’s bodies, igniting a fierce desire that had been smoldering for far too long. Sanji’s hands cradled your face, his lips fervently moving against yours, tasting the sweetness of the forbidden fruit they had longed for. You could feel the rapid beat of his heart, synchronized with your own, and the heat between you intensified with every passing moment. In your passionate frenzy, you stumbled and crashed into shelves, knocking over cans and creating a cacophonous mess. From a distance, Zeff’s voice interrupted your heated moment, “Oi, you two lovebirds better get to work before the whole ship catches fire!” Giggling and flushed with desire, you both separated reluctantly, leaving the pantry to resume your duties in the kitchen. But now, you carried a secret, a newfound passion for each other that had finally been confessed.

As the day went on, the two of you shared secret glances and subtle smiles, knowing that your love had been revealed and that your future together was now a tantalizing promise.

©𝐘𝐎𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐈— Any sign/evidence of plagiarism made from outside this name will be dealt with by whatever means necessary. Legal action may occur if non fanfiction works are plagiarized.