#I do think the only thing that could make it more delicious is if they have what I call an hourglass arc. where they switch motivations

[thesummerpetrichor]

𝓨𝓸𝓾 𝓬𝓪𝓷 𝓫𝓮 𝓶𝔂 𝓭𝓪𝓭𝓭𝔂

Father in law!Javier Peña x afab!fem!reader

Summary: Your soon to be husband leaves you at the alter, but you should have guessed since the practice seemed to run in the family. It’s hard to be upset however, when his father comes to repent for not only his own but his son’s wrong doings. Aka fiancé’s dad Javi fucking you in your wedding dress after his son ditches you at the altar.

Warnings: 18+ only minors DNI you will be blocked. Minimal editing, unspecified but thicc and legal age gap, infidelity, daddy kink, heavy breeding kink, insane dirty talk, toxic father son relationship, reader is delulu, praise kink, petnames, sex in front of a mirror, veil pulling??, a few spanks, creampie, Javi fucks you into the mattress, unprotected P in V [don’t do it!!]. Let me know if I missed anything 🫶.

Word count: 2.6k

A/N: Literally just porn without plot, lotsa fucking, I want father in law Javi. Minimally edited lmao I just banged this out Can’t wait for you to read it!! Hope you enjoy, nasties! Mwah!

Masterlist

You rich and I'm wishin', um

You could be my mister, yum

Delicious to the maximum

Chew you up like bubble gum

You love me, he wants me

I think I want you too

Best day of your life- yeah, what a fucking joke. But what were you expecting? Ditching people at the altar seemed to run in the family. Okay, maybe that was a bit of a harsh assessment of the Peñas, especially Peña senior, who, despite all you had heard of him from your ex fiance, had always shown you kindness. 

The thing is, it becomes really fucking hard to be charitable to a family when their son humiliates you infront of the entirety of Texas. Leaves you high and dry on the steps of the biggest church in town in your great grandmother’s silk dress. It becomes even harder when you learn his mother had been in on it all along, sparing you not even a little apology, or a comforting embrace after her son's little getaway plan had been revealed. 

Instead of extending you a supporting hand, she ran away to make sure her baby boy was okay, and that this entire ordeal hadn’t taken a toll on his emotional and psychological well being. 

How thoughtful. 

Of course, you were the pathetic one– unable to look anyone in the eye, sobbing on your fathers shoulder till you couldn’t breathe any longer. So distraught and unwell even getting out of your wedding attire seemed impossible. It only made you feel even more pathetic. At some point you ended up curling up in your hotel bed, still in the “happiest day of your life” outfit, and pleading for some time alone from your friends and family to wallow in your own suffering. 

You would eat your feelings in the from of the apology chocolates the hotel had complimented for you, but you couldn’t manage to even do that without feeling like a total fucking looser. 

After all that had transpired, and after years of hearing nothing but sour things about your soon to be father in law, safe to say you were surprised to see him at your hotel room door at midnight as the ambassador the family seemingly sent to smooth things over. 

For it being only your second time meeting the man, this was far from the most opportune scenario. In fact, him showing up all sorrowful and apologetic for his shitty excuse of a son, in his navy blue suit and loose tie, made your already pathetic day all the more difficult to get through. 

Your whole relationship you had blamed every fault of your boyfriend on his absent, detached father. You’d heard plenty about the lack of childhood visits, quality time, and playing soccer that had plagued your partner’s life, and had found it quite easy and comforting to pile on every relationship problem you ever came across as the consequence of Javier Peña’s lack of responsibility and good parenting. 

What you didn’t expect, was to find that Javi Peña was a whole lot more normal and level headed than you anticipated. He was just a guy trying to make a good living and provide for his family. Sure, he was a little bit reserved, but he was only ever warm and sweet and even quite chatty with you. To be frank, you should have seen your boyfriend’s shitty behavior as a consequence of his insufferable mother from a mile away. God knew you weren’t expecting Peña Sr. to be the better of your two soon to be in laws. 

That being said, you would have never expected to be on your hands and knees, on what was supposed to be your marital bed, being pounded from behind by your ex soon to be father in-law. 

Because that's where you are now, eyes rolling to the back of your head thanks to the most intense pleasure you've ever felt. The drag of Javis cock against your walls has been building a steady heat in your belly, the stretch of him so perfect and delicious it has you pushing your hips back to meet his every thrust. 

Any other day a man like him wouldn’t have needed much to woo you– with his cut jaw, handsome features and those chocolate brown eyes you wished his son had inherited. Safe to say on a day like this one it took even less, just a few rubs on your back, a hand smoothing over your head and trailing down your waist, a few “pretty girls” and “poor things” and some fucking sympathy from someone from your boyfriends sorry family. 

Fucking pathetic. 

But Javier knows his son is pathetic, knows he is a good for nothing moron who doesn't even know what he was losing out on when he walked out on you.

“He’s a fuckin fool- look at this tight little pussy, squeezin’ me so fuckin good. Bet he didn’t fuck ya like this, huh baby? Didn’t make ya cum over and over, make ya scream… stupid fuckin boy..” Javier’s grip on your hips tightens on hearing your moan, and he curses under his breath when your pussy flutters around his cock. 

Your legs are threatening to give out under you, your knees tender from how long you've been leaning on them. Javier’s hand moves to grip the fabric of your veil, using it to pull your head back and make you face the mirror that's been teasing you all evening. “Look- Look at ya- fuckin cryin’ on my cock. ‘S the only reason ya’ shoulda’ be cryin’ in this pretty dress..” With drooping eyes you're faced with your own reflection– stains from your mascara running down your face now less thanks to the sorry of the afternoon and more thanks to the way Javi’s cock has been nudging your sweetspot. 

You watch your tits spill out of your beautiful silk dress, the fabric now disheveled and a far cry from the sophisticated, simplistic garment it once was. You can barely recognise it, but then again you can barely recognise your own reflection. “Look at that pretty little body- fuckin made for me.” 

“Yours-” you cut yourself off with a gasp, Javi’s hands squeeze your hips and your cheeks set ablaze at the way he looks at you when you catch it in the mirror. The whole sight is so debauched and depraved– you on your hands and knees for a man who could easily be mistaken for your father. But somehow it's even dirtier- the possibility of your ex finding out sends you into overdrive. 

The silk of your dress brushes against your hot skin, flipped lewdly up to reveal your bare ass, bunched at the waist, the straps drooping and threatening to fall. Javi pulls the zip down even further, watching as it hangs off your body, draped like fabric from a 15th century painting. 

Javi’s voice calls your attention back to the present moment, lewd words showing you he doesn't hold back the way his son does. “Gonna fill this tight little cunt up..” The stretch is so delicious between your legs, you feel the steady throb continue to tighten the coil inside you and you can’t help but moan. “Yeah, you want that? Want daddy to put a baby in you?” the thought makes you shiver, that name makes you shiver, has your cunt clenching around his cock. What an image- you, belly round with your father in laws child, well, your ex father in law. Unlike his son you were sure he would be the perfect husband, would bend you over ever surface in your picket fence house and fuck you just like he’s doing now. 

Deep, and hard and fast, just like you need it. Just like you've always needed it.. 

“Please daddy, want your babies, wanna be yours…” Your voice is so broken and wrecked you're afraid he can’t understand what you're even saying. To be honest you can’t be bothered much, it feels so good, his thick, hard cock feels so good pounding between your thighs there's little else you can keep your mind on. 

“Yeah? you like that sweetheart? we can play house..” you nod your head and his hand tightens its grip around your veil, exaggerating your movements, bending you to his will. “Wanna play house with daddy? can be my pretty little wife” you fist the sheets, pushing back against him with his every thrust. You do want that, you’ve always wanted that. And what better person to do it with. Sure, his wife always complained about how he was never around, but that's looking a lot more like a her problem– especially with the way Javi’s tip continues to kiss your sweet spot. 

“Yes daddy, please..”  

Javier lets go of your veil, and pushes his palm between your shoulder blades, forcing you down into the mattress till your cheek is pressed against the warm, fluffy duvet. One hand keeps you there, the other lands a quick spank to your ass and kneads at the flesh with a newfound desperation. “Won't be able to even say his goddamn name after I'm done with ya. Stupid boy doesnt know how to treat a pretty thing like you– so sweet, so gorgeous, so fucking smart. Too fucking good for him.” 

With your lips parted and breathing heavy you drool onto the covers, letting Javi pound you into the mattress and overshadow every other thought that dared cross your head earlier in the day. If his plan is to make you forget about anything that isn't him, it sure is working. You don't think you’d even want to sound out his incompetent son’s name after he’s done with you. 

As if he can read your mind his voice calls from behind you. “Want ya to be drippin with me.” the wet schick of his cock fucking into your tight, wet, hole reminds you of just how needy you are for him, and the prospect of having him dripping out of you– down your thighs, between your legs, leaving you all messy for him to come back and do it all over again, drives you absolutely insane. 

“He’s fuckin useless, just like his ma. But look at you, so fucking tight ‘round me, making all those pretty sounds, she fuckin’ wishes she was you.” His words have your cunt squeezing around his cock, and a lewd, pornographic moan slipping past your lips. “My girl’s gonna be the perfect lil’ mamma, aren’t ya, so fuckin’ pretty.” You would certainly like that- in fact you’re almost surprised with how appealing it sounds to you. 

“Gonna be perfect for you daddy, only for you.” your dress rides up even further, the front slipping further down. 

“Thats my fucking girl.” That growl of his sends shivers down your spine– possessive, and confident and dripping like honey from his lips. It was almost like it could send you over the edge by itself. The lewd creaking of the bedframe fills the room, the sound of skin on skin driving you wild. The way he handles you– firm and deft but gentle and passionate, it's nothing like his son. 

He’s nothing like his son. 

“Yeah, bet it feels good don’t it, bein’ fucked by a real man? Feel daddy so deep in ya? Nothin ever been that deep before, huh..” You shake your head ‘no’ and he coos at how pathetic you must sound, barely able to make a coherent sound, forget string together a whole sentence. 

“Make me go fuckin’ crazy, babygirl.” 

What he says is fucking filthy, there’s no denying, no justifying it. It makes you squirm, makes you even wetter, makes you want him even more. 

“Think you wanna go back to him? With daddy’s cum drippin between those pretty thighs, show him how a real man treats his girl?” 

“Gonna make ya beg him to stay, gonna talk some sense into him, just so daddy can have ya all to himself, ain't that right? You gonna sneak into daddy’s room in the middle of the night? All wet an’ achy? Beggin’ daddy to fuck ya how ya need?” 

“Wanna run away with me baby, live in a perfect little house, let daddy give ya his babies, fuck ya full’ve my cum every single night?” 

His hands roam your body, smoothing over your hips, reaching forward to squeeze at your breasts, pinching and kneading the flesh. He bends down to trail light kisses along your spine and the feeling is like nothing you’ve ever felt before. Your head twists side to side against the sheets as you squirm, each sensation like it's heightened to the maximum, the heaviness and the throb between your thighs at an all time high. 

You know you're close, you can’t hold it off much longer. Your cunt squeezes and your toes curl. You also know Javi won't last, you can feel him pulse against your swollen walls, can feel the way he desperately thrusts into you, pushes you further down against the mattress, grips your skin with that renewed fervor, with the desperation of doing anything to hold on to the incredible sensation. 

“Come for me, babygirl, come for daddy, show daddy how much ya needed this, show daddy how bad ya need his cock.” 

Your legs part even further under you, if that's even physically possible, your entire upper body being smashed into the mattress. You call out Javi’s name, followed by a string of desperate, strained, whiny daddy daddy daddy’s. 

With a strangled moan that's partially muffled by the covers you come undone, your head spins and your heart pounds in your chest, you feel yourself gush and clamp down around his cock. You feel Javi’s hips stutter behind you and his cock throb against your wet walls. The feeling only prologues and intensifies your orgasm, your body going slack and eyes rolling back into your head. 

“Please daddy, need your cum, please, give it to me..” 

Javi’s groans catch your attention as you come down from your high, still reeling from the aftershocks when you feel his cock twitch inside you and paint your walls with his hot spend. Your words are strained and slurred, but they clearly get the job done. You shiver and press your ass back against him to meet his stuttery, sloppy thrusts, and bite your lip when you feel him tighten his grip on your hip, feel him land a final spank to your ass for good measure as he slows down. 

You keep your ass in the air, face still pressed against the mattress as Javi pulls out. You hear him mutter a few strained curses under his breath as he does, and catch him looking between your legs to see his spend obscenely leak out of your used hole. He reaches his fingers to rub against your messy folds and you whine, feel him gather up your juices and push them back inside your cunt in a way that has you almost cumming right there again. 

Your dress is still pooled at your waist and he unzips it entirely, sneaking his hands under your thighs and flipping you over and yanking you towards him. 

“You really want daddy’s babies?” Your head falls back against the bed when you feel his hand cup your cunt, rub your messy, swollen folds with the calloused tips of his fingers. You barely manage to nod. 

“Then I ain’t done with ya yet pretty girl.” You tilt your chin to catch his gaze, now in nothing but your stupid little wedding veil. You’re not sure about the best day of your life, but this sure as hell contends for one of the best nights. 

You can be my daddy tonight-night-night

I'm neon phosphorescent

Open like a Christmas present, oh

You can be my daddy tonight-night-night

If you're seeking heaven

Then you wanna come and get it alright

Be my daddy tonight

What's up what's up

What's up what's up

Be my daddy be my daddy

Be my daddy be my, be my daddy tonight

AHHHHH feel like I’m going to hell for this one. Thanks so much for reading!! Please please please let me know what you think. I’d love to know your thoughts!!! Thank you to everyone who engages with my work, you keep me writing!! 💗🐝

[icepip]

tags: 18+/mdni. toji fushiguro x gn reader. cockwarming. not proofread. <800 words.

thinking about giving toji fushiguro a taste of his own medicine — holding what he wants so desperately in your hands but never quite giving it to him. dangling it in front of him, so close but always just out of reach.

sliding down his cock, your plush thighs caging his as you perch yourself so beautifully on his lap, your tight heat wrapped so deliciously around his length. he thinks you're gonna put on a show for him, thinks you're gonna ride him until your legs give out and you cry for him to help. but you have something else in store for him tonight. something that'll push him the way he always pushes you.

his fingers flex on your hips, digging into your skin and urging you to move. you tut at him, pulling at his wrists until he relents.

"you'll only get what i want to give you, big boy."

that rewards you with a groan from toji, his head falling back and hitting the soft pillows. he looks gorgeous, his defined chest flushed from arousal, muscles twitching slightly as he tries to stay still. your hands follow the path of your eyes, rubbing up his firm stomach and to his pecs. his breath hitches as your fingers graze his hardened nipples, a slow smile creeping on your face.

this is going to be even more fun than you thought.

"don't you — ah, shit — wanna move?" he hisses out from between his teeth, hips instinctively bucking up as you pinch his buds harshly.

you hum, pretending to think it over as you lightly drag your nails down his chest. toji bites his cheek to stay quiet, eyes intently watching everything you do.

"nah, i'm good exactly where i am. and you're gonna stay right where you are, too."

you can feel his body tense, can see his mind weighing his options as you tighten around him. he's fighting his instincts to grab you and fuck you absolutely senseless, his cock throbbing with desire inside you. you suppose his curiosity of what you could be planning is greater than his need to feel the drag of your walls.

a few moments pass, the only sounds the soft praise tumbling from your lips as toji struggles to maintain his composure and his quiet grunts of pleasure as you touch his body. your fingers trail lower, carding through the coarse, dark hair of his navel and sliding past his hips. you reach behind yourself, caressing his thighs and watching his expression closely.

"w-wait," toji mumbles, eyes widening as you begin to fondle his sac. "fuck, baby, wait."

his cock jumps inside you, your hand gently massaging his swollen balls and making him groan.

"hm? what is it, toji?" you tease, rolling them over your fingers. he's always been so responsive e there, always spilling into your mouth when you played with them as you sucked his cock. it only makes sense that the sensation would be more intense now.

his mouth opens and closes, opening again but no words come out. his breathing is faster, lips parting as he pants and tries to focus on you.

"c'mon, big boy, use your words." just like you do to me, you say to yourself, a satisfaction coursing through you as he feels what you experience. toji grits his teeth, your fingers continuously working over the sensitive skin. "tell me what you want."

"g'nna cum, shit, lemme— let me fuck you. need to fuck you."

his body is hot underneath yours, a thin layer of sweat glistening on his skin. he looks a bit desperate, his tongue darting out to wet his lips, eyes never leaving you.

"you can cum, but only from this."

it's mean. just like he does to you. so close to what he wants, but still so achingly far.

his balls are heavy in your hand, his cock surely leaking precum with even the slightest touch. you know he's close, his pride the only thing keeping him from letting go. a little bit of cockwarming and fondling and he's cumming like a virgin.

his hips thrust up as his load spills from his tip, aching to be even deeper, aching to fuck you properly. you pull your hand away, letting him come down from his high without risking overstimulation. he's gone through enough of your teasing — for the time being. you'll save milking him dry like that for another day.

"feel good, toji?" you ask as his breathing evens out, his half hard cock still nestled inside you.

"fuck you." he grumbles, throwing one of his arms over his eyes.

you can't help the small laugh that gets pulled from your lips, recognizing the conversation. you say the same thing to him.

[hey-august]

August I need an opinion:

Which version of Crossguild poly x Reader insert is better?

Reader who’s associated with Buggy and gets dommed by Crochawk with him together and / or sometimes is used by all three of them to let of steam (Buggy being low on the pecking order because yes I love the idea of him needing to wait his turn or till Croc or Hawk say yes)

OR

Reader who has been associated with Crocodile and Hawk before this entire thing started, is immensely more powerful than Buggy and at least on par with the other two and is the sweet dom to crocodiles mean Dom and Mihawks strict Dom to Buggy?

What’s the best way for the clown to get dommed? Getting fucked silly alongside someone he loves by two dangerous men OR by three people way more powerful than him that all have their unique appeal?

Buggy don’t gets to Dom because I am in a whining, trembling clown mood

IN THIS ESSAY I WILL-

Anon. ANON. I made the mistake of reading this during a work break and it was ALL I could think of for the rest of the day.

Personally, I adoooore Buggy and Reader being the toys of the Cross Guild polycule. There's a bond between you and Buggy - something that can only be conveyed through half-lidded eyes and gaping drooling mouths while you two are being plowed into oblivion.

Sharing sloppy wet kisses while the other two chase their pleasure.

Maybe sometimes Crocodile won't grab one of you by the throat, or Mihawk won't yank your hair and pull you away from each other. It's rare, but they'll let you ride your one orgasm while squeezing Buggy's own shaking hand. Sure they'll tease you for it, but you deserve a treat after being so good.

And the times when Buggy gets to use his energy and status - well fuck. We can also flip that around. You and Buggy are Crocodile's and Mihawk's playthings after all. If they want you to dom Buggy, well you're going to have to make it happen and have the clown put on a pretty show for them.

BUT LET'S TALK ABOUT THE OTHER GIFT YOU BROUGHT. 😤🥴

Buggy being passed from dom to dom. From lap to lap. Bed to bed. He follows each powerful leader, wringing his hands and wondering what delicious punishment or mind-numbing reward he's earned that day.

You are so soft and sweet with him. At least compared to the other two pirates. You fill Buggy's head with honeyed praise and goddamn he would do anything to keep receiving such delicacies from you. To drown in your attention, no matter what you ask for or how you need him. Buggy is the dopiest, most compliant fuck when he's with you.

As for Crocodile, it's like stress relief for the both of them, honestly. A moment for them to turn off their brains and let animal instinct take over. To give into the feeling of fuck and get fucked. And with Mihawk, it's a game. A gamble. How well can the clown perform? How well can he listen? Can he actually do as he's told? At the end, they're both sore winners.

When you put everyone together… Oof. Well. It's a lot. See, Buggy wants to please. He wants to do a good job. He wants to show that he's very good at taking what each of you will give. No matter how rough Crocodile is, how brutal his pace becomes, or how hard those giant hands dig into Buggy's body, your voice is in his ear.

Hearing you coo about how fucking beautiful he looks getting wrecked makes every ache feel like a trophy. Listening to you tell Mihawk how Buggy deserves a reward for following every rule is almost as good as the reward itself. Almost, but there's not much better than the taste of heaven between your legs.

Imagine this with me - A weary, sweaty Buggy switching between riding Crocodile and Mihawk. Easing himself down on each cock, one after the other. His groan is a mix of pleasure and exhaustion. He's been going so long and they slide in effortlessly, but fuck if Buggy still isn't being stretched to capacity. They're just so big.

And there you are, encouraging him with kisses on his neck and shoulder. Coaxing his hand to keep stroking a cock that's waiting it's next turn. Meanwhile, you're guiding Buggy's hips. Keeping him going.

He can make them come, right? He wants to make Crocodile and Mihawk feel good, right? That's it, keep going. Shh, shh, it's okay. You're doing so good. C'mon, take it all the way.

Buggy can hardly hold in the sinful sounds he makes when you all but slam his body down on whoever he's on top of. He's your lovely marionette clown and everyone's enjoying the show.

[hyunebunx]

˖˙ ᰋ ── pies and cuddles can fix anyone

﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. genre: fluff

﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. a/n: happy lix day!! this is a reupload but rewritten so it's better. enjoy <3

There was nothing Felix loved more in the world than moments like these. Sure, traveling was nice, getting to see sights he’s only ever dreamed of but his favorite destination would always be here with you, in your cozy little apartment he knew like the back of his hand. Home, his favorite place to come back to would always be home to you. Back to being surrounded by your specific smell that he couldn’t fall asleep without and your comforting touch, he longed for 24/7 – nothing could ever come close to that for him. Especially when you were both engaged in his favorite hobby and dressed in matching pajamas.

“Felix, come here.”

Your sweet voice had him complying instantly, abandoning the hot chocolate to be by your side in a heartbeat. Turning to face him with the biggest smile, Felix felt himself falling in love all over again as you brought the wooden spoon to his lips while stepping closer.

“Taste this and tell me if it needs anything else. And be honest!”

With a nod, he opened his mouth to do as told, eyes closing briefly to savor the taste. Apples, caramelized apples for your pie to be exact. Nothing could feel more like autumn than that.

He had a child-like smile on his freckled face once he opened his eyes again, visibly pleased, “I think it’s delicious as always, Y/n. It doesn’t need anything else.”

The way your eyes lit up at his praise had him chuckling, your happiness contagious. That’s why he couldn’t contain himself as he moved to engulf your form in a warm hug from behind, squeezing tightly while his chin rested on your shoulder.

“Okay, thanks.” You nodded, one of your hands moving to intertwine your fingers on your stomach where his rested, “To the oven it goes then.”

But you didn’t make any attempt to move – on the contrary, you leaned back to melt into his warm embrace as he started to pepper innocent kisses all over your cheek and neck. That continued for a minute more before Felix swiftly turned your body around to face him, successfully caging you between the counter and himself.

Leaning in, he rubbed his nose against yours affectionately, “You know, the pie won’t bake by itself, my love.”

“Just five more minutes.” Your voice came out whispered as you stood there, basking in the love your boyfriend was currently showering you with. A deep laugh escaped him at your response, placing a kiss on both of your cheeks and forehead before pulling away slightly.

“You only say that when I dare wake you up without giving you cuddles first. We’re baking right now, Y/n.”

You nodded again and moved to wrap your arms around his middle, resting your head against his chest right where his heart was, “Yes so don’t wake me up. I don’t want you to disappear.”

His eyes softened at the double meaning behind your words, a pang of guilt suddenly hitting him in full force. No matter how far away he was, Felix was never going to leave nor forget you, not when his heart always brought him back to the only place that felt like home. The red string of fate that connected you could never allow that.

“This isn’t a dream, baby,” he placed a kiss on the crown of your head, words murmured against your hair, “I’m right here and I'll always be.”

You were well aware of that but some reassurance never hurt anybody.

“I know. I’m just afraid of you disappearing because you’re way too good to be true. Like an angel without its wings, trapped on this planet to make things more bearable.”

Felix laughed, the sound causing you to do so as well as he buried his face in your hair to hide his embarrassment. Flustering your boyfriend was always so fulfilling. Making an angel laugh must count for something, right? There must a gauge that once filled will grant you eternal happiness.

Not like you were too interested, you already had that with Felix by your side.

“Shut up.” He murmured against your neck, the gesture causing goosebumps to appear all over your skin. “Put the pie in the oven and let’s go cuddle already. Even the hot chocolate is cold by now.”

[queen-of-the-avengers]

A First For Everything

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader x Steve Rogers (no stucky)

Word Count: ~3.5k

Warnings: fluff

Summary: Steve Rogers. Thoughtful, considerate, and loving. He makes you feel safe and wanted. Bucky Barnes. Passionate, adventurous, and dangerous. He makes you feel alive and free. You think you can only choose one, but what happens when they offer to share you?

Squares Filled: image of bucky and steve from the comic (2021) for @buckybarnesbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are greatly appreciated <3

x

You don’t have a lot of money but you love reading so you spend a lot of time at your local library to read all the books you can’t get otherwise. They have a checkout system that allows you to take home up to five books. If you want more, you’ll return what you read and the cycle continues. You’ve been so often that the librarians know you by name. They often allow you to take home an extra book knowing you’ll return it in the same condition you got it at.

“Hey, Marie,” you greet when you walk in.

“Y/N, dear, how was your weekend?”

“Spent my nose in all the books I borrowed last week. I am here to return them and get five more.”

“I wouldn’t be opposed if you wanted to sneak a sixth in there,” she smiles.

“We’ll see,” you chuckle.

She takes the books and you head to the section you’ve been obsessing over for the last few months. There are three books you had your eye on last week hoping that they’re here now. You turn the corner and see a tall blond man browsing the same section you’re going to. He’s looking at the shelf that contains one of the books you’re interested in. You could ask him to move but you’re mesmerized by this man’s physique. He’s tall and very muscular with short blonde hair and a clean-shaven face.

“Can I help you?”

You’re brought back to reality when you hear his velvety smooth voice.

“No, sorry. I just, um, need a book from that shelf.”

“Oh, sorry. Here.” He moves to the left and allows you to step into his space to grab the book on the very top shelf. Your fingers touch the edge of the shelf but you can’t reach the book. This is so embarrassing. “Do you need help?”

“Yeah. It’s the pink book right there.”

“It’s a good book. I’ve read it five times. I love this book.” He grabs the book and hands it to you with a smile. He even has a gorgeous smile with perfect white teeth. “I’m Steve.”

“Y/N. It’s nice to meet you.”

“Are you new around here or have you lived here long?”

“I’ve lived here nearly a year. I like to come here and read as much as I can.”

“That’s cool. My roommate and I just moved out here. We’re trying to venture out and look for fun things to do.”

“Well, I don’t know what you’re into but there is a concert venue downtown that holds small concerts from bands that aren’t really well known. It has a bar and it’s a good way to listen to some new music. There’s also a farmer’s market on the opposite side of town that has delicious food. I like to go there.”

“Seems like you know your way around town.”

“Yeah, I do. I like to do new things every week and just get out of my apartment.”

“Think you might want to show me around?” You blush at his offer and he chuckles. “You’re incredibly beautiful and I’d love to take you out if you let me. I just don’t know much around here so I think I need a tour guide.”

“I can be your tour guide if you want,” you grin. “The beaches here are pretty nice, especially at night.”

“Good to know,” he smiles.

You hand him your phone so he can put his number in, and you call it so that he has your number. You part ways and grab the other books you’ve had your eyes on before heading back home. Tomorrow can’t come fast enough, it’s all you can think about. Steve says he’ll be over at seven to take you out, and you start getting ready two hours before the date. You take an “everything” shower, dry and curl your hair, get dressed in the perfect dress and shoes, do your makeup, accessorize, and spray your best perfume. You’re ready with ten minutes to spare, and Steve is knocking on your door before you know it.

“Wow, you look amazing,” Steve smiles.

“Thank you. You clean up nice, too.”

He leads you to your car and opens the passenger door for you. You’re not sure what kind of date he’s taking you on but you’re excited to see what he researched. For someone who doesn’t know the area, it’ll be interesting to see what he thinks is worth going to. Steve drives to the coastline and finds a parking spot right next to the beach. You love the beach and often come here to either read your books or enjoy time in the sun. You don’t normally come here after the sun has gone down so it’s nice to see the beach free of people.

“I never come here at night. It’s nice,” you grin.

There is an ice cream shop that’s open late to give people a reason to stay in the area, and Steve leads you over to it.

“What’s your favorite flavor?”

“Either strawberry or mint chocolate chip. Surprise me.”

Steve gets ice cream for both of you, and you two eat it while walking along the shore of the beach. You two take your shoes off to allow the water to wash over your feet whenever it splashes onto shore.

“So, tell me a little bit about you.”

“Well, I live alone. I have a degree in psychology. I own three dogs and two cats so it’s never quiet inside my house. I love reading. I think I spent more time inside the library where we met than anywhere else. If they let animals inside, I’d bring all my dogs with me. What about you?”

“I live with my childhood best friend. I never went to college but I did graduate college. We have one cat that’s mostly my roommate’s but I think she loves me more. I’m more outgoing than my roommate and love to go out and meet new people.”

Talking to Steve is easy. You’re not big on being social but there is something about Steve that brings you comfort. He’s safe and you can see yourself falling for him quickly.

“Despite coming here all the time, I have never had this ice cream before. This is delicious,” you grin and take another bite.

“You got a little something…”

“Where?” you gasp and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand.

“Here.”

Steve scoops some of his ice cream and touches the cold treat to your nose. You gasp and look at him with wide eyes.

“You did not just do that.”

“I did,” Steven grins.

You don’t even think about what to do next. You take a scoop of your ice cream and shove it into his face, watching as it drops from his face onto the sand. You and Steve are at a standstill with a tense silence between you. He jerks toward you and you take off running away from him with a squeal. He catches you easily and threatens you by moving his ice cream-covered mouth toward your cheek.

“No! That’s gross,” you laugh and cringe away from him.

Steve licks his lips and lets you go with a chuckle. You like how easy it is with Steve. Being the gentleman Steve is, he walked you to your front door when he dropped you off at home.

“I had a great time with you,” you smile.

“Me too. I hope we can do this again.”

“I’m sure I can fit you in.”

You think Steve is going to kiss you when he leans in but he bypasses your lips and kisses your cheek. You go to bed that night with a smile on your face and your head filled with thoughts of Steve. The next day, you head out to the gym early so you can start your day refreshed and energized. There aren’t a lot of people at the gym but you’re good at tuning everything out when you’re in your workout. You start with a light walk on the treadmill to get your blood pumping before moving to the weights.

You use the weight machine where you sit down on the small bench and grab the handlebars that you’ll pull toward yourself. You’ve never used this machine before but you’re doing it now because you want to at least try something new. It might work better for you. You set the weights to the amount you can pull before sitting down. You complete one rep when you feel someone tapping on your shoulder.

You look behind you to see a gorgeous man. Tall, dark hair, a sharp jawline, bright blue eyes, muscles for days, and tattoos inked down his arms. You can tell that ink is on his torso because it disappears underneath the collar of his shirt. He waves a hand in front of his face and you snap out of the trance.

“I’m sorry, can I help you?” you ask after taking out your AirPod.

“I don’t want to be that guy or a creep but I noticed your posture when using this machine. I don’t want to see you hurt yourself. Can I give you some tips?” You open your mouth to respond and he quickly speaks again. “Feel free to tell me to fuck off. I just… I know a bit or two about gym injuries.”

“Oh, okay. Yeah. What am I doing wrong?”

The man straddles the bench right behind you but stays far enough away from you so you don’t feel his skin. However, you feel the heat radiating from his body. It’s enough to make your head spin.

“Can I touch you?” he asks.

“Yeah,” you whisper.

He puts his hands on your hips and moves slightly closer to you. The heat increases and your heart beats faster.

“You want to keep your back straight. The point of this machine is to work your arms. Pull down the handlebar.” You keep your back straight when you pull it down because you’re afraid of leaning back into his body. He cups both of your elbows as you lower your arms and stops you from going further down. “You want to keep your elbows at a ninety-degree angle. Try again.”

The man takes his hands away from your arms but lets them rest on your hips. You do it again and you can feel him nod behind you.

“Good girl.”

Butterflies erupt in your stomach at those two words. You’re not even sure if you heard him correctly, he spoke so softly.

“Thank you for your help.”

“No problem.” The man stands making you wish he was pressed against you still. “I’m Bucky.”

“Y/N.”

“Again, I’m not that guy or anything but are you single?”

“Yes,” you giggle.

You and Steve went on one date so you don’t count that as you two being in an exclusive relationship.

“Would you be opposed to me taking you out on a date?”

“No.”

Bucky takes out his phone and opens the phone app so you can give him your number. After you put it in, he calls you so that you have his number.

“I hope you’re free Friday night.”

“I just so happen to be free that day.”

“Great. I’ll pick you up at six. Wear something you don’t mind getting a bit of dirt on.”

“Okay.”

Bucky leaves your side to continue his workout but you can’t continue. All you can think about is Bucky and the feeling you got when you felt him behind you. Friday is only two days away but it feels like a week has passed before it’s finally here. You and Steve have been talking about going on another date. Yes, you told him that you had a date with another man but he didn’t seem all that worried since you two aren’t exclusive. The second you decide that you are, you’ll break it off with Bucky. The same goes for Steve if you and Bucky decide to be a thing.

It’s nearing six when you tie the pink bow into your hair. You’re wearing jeans and a frilly pink shirt, and you’ve done your hair in a half updo with a pink bow. You swipe lipgloss onto your lips when you hear the unmistakable sound of a motorcycle. You look out the window and see Bucky roll into your neighborhood on a sleek black bike. You meet him outside just as he takes off his helmet.

“Damn, I thought you were beautiful in gym clothes and all sweaty. You’re gorgeous now.”

Bucky’s wearing a tight black shirt and jeans that fit him snugly.

“Thank you,” you blush.

“Have you ever ridden a bike before?”

“Once or twice.”

“Then come here, Doll.” You walk over to Bucky and he is careful when he slides the second helmet onto your head, careful to not mess up your hair too much. He straps it into place and helps you onto the back of his bike before climbing on himself. “Hold on tight.”

You wrap your arms around his waist and sit very close to him. Even through his leather jacket, you can feel his muscles flex whenever you touch them. Bucky takes you out of town and to the old Jasper property. Jasper used to be a thriving farmer once upon a time but lost his house after he died. He didn’t have any family to leave it to so the city took possession of it. It now stands as a property kids love to explore, trash, and do whatever else they want to do with it. The city does nothing because they either don’t care or don’t have enough money to put security there.

Bucky pulls into the farm and parks next to an array of bikes. There is commotion coming from the back of the property and the sound of bikes revving their engines.

“What is going on here?” you ask Bucky when you get your helmet off.

“Dirt bike racing,” he grins. “I usually race but this time, I’m happy to watch.”

“Because of me?”

“Well, I can’t be looking like a fool in front of you if I lose,” he chuckles.

You two head to the back of the property and find seats up high to be able to see everything. The bikers slowly drive around the track to get used to it right before the race.

“I’ve never been to one of these things before.”

“Oh, Doll, you don’t know what you’re missing.”

The race begins and all the bikers start it by giving it their all. Bucky cheers his friend who is in first place, and you watch with wide eyes, scared to look away even for a second. The race consists of thirty laps around the place but it feels like they’re doing it in five. They go so fast around the curves, jump over the ramps expertly, and gain a lot of cheers whenever their favorites get closer to first place.

Bucky tries to explain the logistics of it all but you’re too enthralled to listen to him. It’s nice to do this with Bucky because you love the thrill of racing whether that be cars or bikes. Bucky stands up and cheers when his friend finishes in first followed by two of his other friends in second and third. The winner gets a cash prize put together by both the audience and the crew members responsible for the race.

“So, how was your first bike race?” Bucky asks when he walks you back to his bike.

“That was amazing! You do that sort of thing?”

“Yeah. There’s nothing like feeling nothing but the rumble of your bike on a racetrack. Everything else disappears and it feels like you’re the only one on the track. Sure, we do races for fun but the serious ones are the best.”

“I’d like to see you race sometime.”

“I can arrange that,” he grins. Bucky takes the long way back to your house to give you more time pressed up against him. Like Steve, he walks you to your front door. “Can I take you out again?”

“Yes,” you smile.

Bucky glances down to your lips and decides to just go for it. He grabs the sides of your face and pulls you in for a kiss that makes your head dizzy. He dances around the idea of using tongue, and you open your mouth to allow him in. He slides his tongue in and explores what you’ve given him before pulling away.

“I’ll talk to you later, Doll.”

“Okay,” you mutter, still in a haze from his kiss.

Bucky waits for you to get inside your house before leaving. You rest your back against your door and bite your lip in thought. You had such a great time with Steve but you also loved your time with Bucky. Two men. How will you ever decide between them? You get ready for bed and fall asleep with thoughts of Bucky and Steve.

The next morning, you’re woken up by your phone ringing. You pop your head up and reach for your phone with one eye closed and the other squinted nearly shut. Both eyes pop wide open when you see Steve’s name on your phone. You sit up in bed and smooth down your hair as if he can see what you look like over a phone call. You cough to clear your throat so it’s not so obvious that you’ve been sleeping seconds before.

“Hello?” you answer.

“Hey, Y/N. Are you busy tonight?”

“No. What’s up?”

“My roommate is going to be out of town tonight and I was wondering for our second date, I can cook for you.”

“At your place?”

“Yeah. I totally understand if you don’t want to come over and go somewhere public, but--”

“Steve, it’s okay. I’d be happy to let you cook for me.”

“Okay, good,” he breathes in relief. “I’ll text you my address. How about you come over at six?”

“I’ll be there.”

After saying goodbye, Steve hangs up and looks at his roommate who is sitting in the living room cleaning bike parts he got from Facebook Marketplace.

“What have I told you about cleaning your shit in here?”

“To do it because you love it,” Bucky grins.

“You’re going to be out by six, right? My date is coming over then.”

“Yeah, I heard you.”

Bucky continues to clean while Steve gets ready for his date with you. Afterward, both men decide to kill time to watch whatever it is that’s on Netflix. Bucky looks at the time and sees it’s nearly six. He gets up and grabs his jacket on his way to the front door.

“Where are you going?”

“Out, remember?”

“British Bake-Off is next,” Steve says with the remote in hand.

“I’m leaving and you have your date. It’s almost six.”

“Shit, you’re right.” Steve looks at his friend who grabs his motorcycle keys. “You don’t want to take a shower first? Wash your hair, maybe?”

“I’m fine, Dad,” Bucky rolls his eyes. He opens the door right when you’re about to knock, and your eyes widen when you see it’s Bucky and not Steve at the door. “Doll?”

“Bucky? What… What are you doing here?”

Steve pops his head out from behind his friend and smiles when he sees you.

“Hey, Y/N, come in. This is my roommate, Bucky. He was just leaving.”

Bucky doesn’t say a word and opens the door wider so you can walk in. Of course, it’ll be your luck that the two best guys you’ve ever dated just so happen to be roommates. Steve isn’t freaking out so Bucky must not have talked about you or not mentioned you by name.

“You’re dating her? She’s your date?” Bucky whispers at Steve but you hear.

“Yeah, why?”

“Dude, she’s the girl I took to the bike race.”

“Wait, what?”

“Look, I didn’t know you two were roommates.” Both men look at you. “I should go, right? This is something I don’t want to come between. I don’t want to ruin your friendship and before you say anything, it will if we continue to let this happen. Yeah, I should go.”

Neither man moves from the front door so you’re stuck here while they stare at each other like in some macho standoff. They have a wordless conversation only spoken through their eyes. It feels like hours before Bucky finally speaks.

“We’re not going to make you choose but I still want to date you.”

“So do I,” Steve says right after.

“Both of you want to date me?”

Bucky shrugs and looks at his friend who has the same expression on his face.

“You wouldn’t be the first thing we’ve shared.”

“You obviously don’t have to choose right now, and if you’ll let me, I’d love to cook for you still.”

Two men? Two gorgeous men? You had such a fun time with Steve and Bucky, and if they’re willing to share you, who are you to say you can’t do the same? You’ve never done something like this before but there’s a first for everything, right?

“Fuck it. I’m in if you are.”

Bucky and Steve grin mischievously, ideas already running through their heads. This is either going to be the best thing to happen to you or the worst mistake of your life. It is sure fun to find out, though.

x

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[reccyls]

Your Hand, My Lady - The Mature Butler Pledges Loyalty (Victor story)

My translation of Victor's butler event story

--

As a result of the Evil King's Game, my exclusive butler for the day is...

Victor: Oh dear, how could this be! Turns out there isn't a number 6 after all, so the order gets turned back onto the king!

...the person who started this round of the game in the first place, Victor.

Victor: But one must put their heart and soul into what they have agreed to do, so do allow me to be your butler.

Kate: S-sure. I'm looking forward to it.

(Victor as my butler... I wonder what that's going to be like?)

...

Kate: Mm....

Daylight streaming into my room pulled me from my sleep. As I sat up, I noticed Victor drawing open the curtains.

Victor: Ah... Apologies, Lady Kate. Did I wake you?

Kate: It's fine...

(Oh, right. Victor's going to be acting as my butler for the entire day today.)

Victor: Heh. Are you still sleepy?

He spoke quietly, almost in a whisper, mindful of how I was only barely awake. His voice was sweeter and gentler than usual.

Victor: You have no duties to attend to today, so if you wanted to sleep in, that would be no trouble. It is still half past 5 in the morning.

Kate: Half past five...? Then, I'll sleep a little more.

Victor: Of course. Sleep well, and I will let you know when breakfast is prepared.

As I curled up in bed once more, Victor silently approached and adjusted my blanket. With a warm, ticklish feeling in my chest at Victor's care, I enjoyed my extra bit of sleep that morning.

...

After I had my fill of sleep, Victor woke me and I got dressed for the day. I also enjoyed a delicious breakfast.

Kate: Today's breakfast was really good!

Victor: That is good to hear. I'll be sure to pass your words on to the chef. Victor: ...My lady, how about some fresh fruits for dessert? Say 'aah'.

As Victor spoke, he held a fork with a piece of apple up to me.

(Is he really going to feed me...?) (Is this a normal thing for butlers to do?)

Hesitantly, I ate the offered fruit.

Kate: Mm, this is good too! Kate: ...But, um, it is a bit embarrassing to do this.

The gap between me and Victor felt smaller than normal today. It wasn't just regular kindness I could feel in the depths of his words and his expressions. He gave off the impression that he truly and deeply cherished me.

Victor: Please do forgive me. Victor: I was enjoying myself too much and I have ended up making you uncomfortable. Victor: Could you find it in your heart to forgive such an incompetent butler...?

Kate: You don't have to apologize! You're not incompetent at all! Kate: Please just keep doing what you think you should. If I'm actually uncomfortable with something, I'll let you know.

Victor: Thank you very much. My lady is truly kind.

...

(I basically spent the entire day with Victor. It was a lot of fun.)

...The truth is, this past week, I'd seen some pretty horrible things during my missions with Crown. I wanted to go on those missions so I could get used to that kind of tragedy, but all I ended up doing was make myself more and more depressed...

(...And that's when Victor proposed the Evil King's Game, and he ended up as my butler for the day.) (Thanks to being able to spend time with him, I feel a lot better.)

But just like nothing sad lasts forever, neither do the good times. Every hour that passed was one hour less that I would be able to spend with Victor.

Victor: Ah yes. Before dinner, may I braid your hair, my lady? Victor: During breakfast and lunch, your hair seemed to bother you.

Kate: Oh, thank you. If you don't mind?

Victor: Of course not, leave it to me. I'll be sure to style your hair to be both practical and beautiful.

Victor sat me down in front of the mirror. Parting my hair with a comb, his large hands began to braid my hair.

Kate: ...You really know a lot about women's fashion, Victor.

Throughout the day, Victor was careful to ensure that my clothes wouldn't end up dirty, and helped to suggest complementary accessories when I was unsure which ones to pick. And the hands working through my hair were obviously very familiar with the act of braiding.

Victor: I am your butler, but I do usually work as the queen's aide.

Kate: Oh, right...

Since he worked closely with the queen, it made sense that Victor would have picked up a deep understanding of women's fashion. I was embarrassed that such a simple thought never even crossed my mind. And not only that, but I became aware of a muddled feeling not unlike fog spreading through my chest.

(I had thought that I was the only one who would be able to see Victor as a butler.) (I just didn't consider that I wasn't the only person to know this side of Victor.)

Victor has a lot of friends and acquaintances beyond just Crown, and I've never seen the face he wears in front of them. For some reason, today, that obvious fact was like a dagger to my heart.

(Is there a side of Victor that only I know...?) (...Ah. That's right.)

Kate: Victor, can I ask you for something?

Victor: Of course, my lady. Whatever you need, I am at your disposal.

Kate: This isn't something that happens every day, so I wanted to see you wearing a butler's uniform.

Victor: A butler's uniform?

Kate: Yeah... Have you ever worn one before?

Victor: No, never... And if this is what my one and only lady wishes of me, then I do not mind wearing one.

Kate: I'd love to see it!

And so, Victor went to go put on a butler's outfit.

(Maybe that was kind of heavy-handed of me, but I'm really excited.)

As I stood in the hallway waiting for Victor to be done changing, William approached.

William: Kate, have you seen Victor around?

Kate: He's in his room right now. Changing his clothes, to a butler's uniform.

William: A butler's uniform...? Ah right, he is our little robin's butler for the day, isn't he. William: Sorry for this, but may I borrow your butler?

Kate: Huh...?

William: Her Majesty has summoned Victor for an emergency.

(Victor is my butler for the day... but the queen's orders take priority.)

Kate: Okay. It's Her Majesty's orders, after all.

William: ...You seem displeased.

I flushed, embarrassed at being seen through by William, who had let out a chuckle.

(Feeling lonely because Her Majesty has stolen Victor from me... I'm acting like such a spoiled brat.)

Just then, I spotted Victor, who had now finished changing, approaching. But I knew that if I looked him in the eye, I would end up asking him not to leave, so I made sure to look away from him. As I held back, William had walked over to meet Victor halfway, and the two of them began to speak. It was most likely about the queen's summons.

(Victor is going to leave.) (But... if I could leave a little of myself in his heart...)

Kate: ...Victor. Do you have a little time?

Propelled by a sense of possessiveness I didn't even realize I had, I called out to Victor.

Victor: ...William, can you go on ahead?

Seeing something in my expression or body language, Victor sent William off first.

Kate: Just a second, Victor.

I took one of my ribbons, and tied it around a lock of his hair.

Kate: ...Today, you're not just the queen's aide, but also my butler. Kate: Even if you're far away... please remember that. Kate: ...This is my order, as your lady.

As I told him my wish for him to keep me in his heart...

Victor took my hand and pressed a gentle kiss to it.

Kate: ...

Victor: ...Of course. Today, I am your loyal butler. Victor: And so would you tell me the reason for the fog that clouds your thoughts?

Kate: I... I-

I didn't know whether to reveal the truth of what I wanted, but every second I dawdled was another second spent obstructing the queen's orders. Gathering my resolve, I opened my mouth to speak.

Kate: ...I'm jealous of the queen, of how much time she has with you. Kate: If I could... I want to order you to stay here.

(Every moment I spend with Victor is precious.) (I wish we could be together forever... I've ended up thinking that way.)

But the reality of the situation is, I'm in no position to make that demand. The queen's orders are absolute. And so because I cannot always be by his side in reality, I wanted to make a place for myself in his heart.

Victor: ......

I turned away from my thoughts, back towards Victor, who had fallen silent.

Kate: I'm sorry. I don't want to burden you, so just--

Hurriedly, I tried to pull my hand back, but Victor raised it to his lips once more.

Kate: ....!?

(Th-that... that wasn't just a kiss, was that his tongue!?)

Seeing my flustered expression, Victor cracked a teasing smile.

Victor: Just because I am your butler does not mean that you can let your guard down, my lady. Victor: The more you say such sweet things, the more I wish to mark your body with my kisses...

Victor's words were full of uncharacteristic seductiveness, and my heart began to pound loudly.

Victor: Do you remember what I told you earlier, when you had dressed up as a maid? Victor: I said to make sure you only give your heart and your body to a partner you are happy to choose.

Kate: ...I remember.

Victor: And so... may I think of myself as that partner, my lady?

Kate: You...

If I gave the wrong answer or if I evaded, I got the feeling that Victor would slip far away from me. Determined to tell him the full, complete truth, I opened my mouth.

Kate: .....Yes. You may.

Victor: I see.

Victor let go of my hand.

(Oh....)

Victor: I'm sorry, I must go now. Until next time.

With that, he quickly walked away.

(I... That was way too forward, wasn't it...!) (When he comes back, I need to apologize for making things weird...)

But Victor did not return before the end of the day.

...

(I wanted to wait for Victor, but at this rate I'll end up staying up the whole night... I should go to sleep now.)

With that thought, I extinguished the lamp and got into bed. Remembering all of Victor's smiles from the past day, I began to slip into slumber. And just then-- My bedroom door quietly swung open, and a scent that brought to mind a quiet deep night approached. When I opened my eyes, there was a figure kneeling over me in bed.

Kate: Who's there...?

Victor: ...It's me. Victor.

Kate: Oh, you're back from the palace...? It's late... you worked hard today...

I was on the cusp of nodding off, barely able to keep my eyes open as I welcomed Victor back.

Kate: And... why are you in my room?

Victor: ...Don't you know?

Kate: Is it about work...?

Victor: Hmm... Something a bit more personal than work.

Kate: Personal? Is there some kind of night banquet that you want to invite me to?

Victor: That sounds lovely, but no. The truth is...

Victor brought his lips to my ear.

Victor: ...I've come to steal your heart.

(Steal my heart?)

Kate: Hehe... There's no point.

Victor: Why not?

Kate: Because you already stole it a long time ago...

I haven't been able to stop thinking about Victor after he left for the palace. If that didn't mean that he had already stolen my heart, then what did?

Kate: Why do you want my heart anyway, Victor?

Victor: Why, you ask? Victor: Because it's so beautiful, I couldn't help but want it.

(I'm pretty sure his eyes are more beautiful than my heart...)

His face was hovering above mine. In the darkness of the room, his eyes seemed to glimmer with light. As I kept staring, those gorgeous eyes drew closer and closer... His long, beautiful hair fell across my face.

Victor: ...

I felt the touch of something delicate across my neck, my shoulders. When I realized that it was Victor's lips pressing across my skin, I felt no desire to push him away.

Kate: Haha, that tickles...

It made me think of all the times that Roger's corgi, Ale, would play with me. I giggled.

Victor: That's all? It just tickles?

(Huh...? Victor's voice sounds a little unhappy about something?)

As I was wondering what it could be about, Victor's lips moved from my shoulder to my ear.

Kate: ...Ah...

The heat of his tongue traced the shell of my ear. I trembled at the unfamiliar sensation.

Victor: Kate.

He whispered my name into my ear like he was trying to express a secret love that should never be.

(He's looking only at me...) (I don't know why, but that makes me really, really happy......)

With that strange joy held in my heart, my eyes slid shut, and I finally drifted off.

...

William: ...I saw you paying a visit to Kate's room last night.

After finishing a discussion about work, William wasted no time in starting to gossip.

Victor: Are you accusing me of something?

William: Heh. Does it look that way?

Victor: No. You look like you're just having a laugh.

William: Not quite. I'm not poking fun, I am quite happy. William: After all, were you not doing what your heart wanted?

Victor: I'm sorry to disappoint you, but no. Victor: I only went to her room to warn her not to give her heart away so freely. And...

William: And?

Victor: Kate doesn't remember it at all. If she does, she probably thinks it was just a dream.

William: What a shame.

At William's words, a vague smile drifted to Victor's lips.

William: So why did you rig that game in the first place? William: Surely you must have known there was no number 6 stick in the first place.

Victor: Nothing gets past you, Will. Victor: Lately, Kate wasn't coping well with the missions she had joined. I just wanted to be able to do something for her.

William: That's it? No other reason?

Victor: ....No. Victor: Even if I did have feelings for her... there is nothing I can offer her. Victor: Because "Victor" belongs to "Victoria".

----

Notes: In the last exchange with William, Victor uses 俺 (ore) instead of 僕 (boku) as he normally does. Also, his last sentence is written as "Because I belong to Her Majesty", but what he says out loud is what I have written down.

[things-arent-what-they-seem66]

Apple Picking

Lucifer and Adam held hands as they walked to the apple orchard down in the Gluttony Ring, only the best tasting apples, ironically, could be found there.

"I'm glad you agreed to come and do this." Lucifer said as he grabbed a basket to house their apples for the time being.

Adam looked at all the apples still on the trees and a few that had already fallen to the ground. "Could be fun, I don't understand what all the fucking fuss is about they're just apples."

"Yes but they make delicious apple crisp or pie. Ou! Maybe even jelly."

That did sound good. Adam reached up and plucked an apple from the tree and placed it in the basket. "Are you going to make those things?"

"Of course. It would be very on brand I think."

Adam snorted, yeah he guessed it would be. "How many do we need?"

"Mmm..... 20-30 or more. I have big baking plans!"

Adam tried not to groan, that meant they would likely be here a while and would only pick the best apples. Lucifer was super fucking picky when it came to apples.

At least it would make for a nice fall day out with his husband.

[yeyinde]

hoooooo boy. m!mc anon here - your response was extremely interesting and i am a little obsessed with your brain (i’d like to study it, you truly come up with the most delicious ideas)

but i also have to say that out of all of tf 141, that idea for soap was actually so delicious that i had to physically put my phone down for a while. respectfully, that is the hottest thing i’ve probably ever read. even more feral soap?? forcefem?? phew. amen.

thank you for giving me more material to zone out to in the middle of the day (praying hands emoji)

ahhh thanks!!! i started to drag on more about m!Reader and Johnny, but. this happened lmao. so here is some nasty Johnny picking up m!Reader in a bar.

forced!fem. switch Johnny. m!reader is described as being very masculine presenting. but in the flavour of Will Graham's whole aesthetic

All things considered, it's a little clichè.

Older man (—ish, you amend mentally, remembering the birth year on his driver's license when you chanced a peek over his forearm as he rifled through his wallet: 1982—millenial) hits on a younger man in a crowded sports bar. Opens the conversation with haven't seen you around here before, and let's the defined chisel in his jawline do the heavy lifting in place of a personality. Adds a wink to that line, too.

Thighs pressed tight against each other on the stool. Arms brushing. Speaks purposefully when it gets rowdy so he has to lean in close, stubbled jaw grazing your cheek as he mock whispers his lacklustre response to a question you didn't ask. Buys you beer. The expensive kind, too. Laughs when you ask what he's drinking and orders something that makes him seem like he's more of a man than you are.

For a brief period between intermissions—when it gets quieter and he conveniently sneaks off to the washroom—you debate picking up the heavy innuendos he's trying to put down. It could be worse, you think, staring at the only other potential lay you've been entertaining over the last two weeks.

You could be getting mediocre sex from a guy who keeps sending you unasked for pictures of his cock and hole. One you keep dodging by adding an appropriately enthused wow, all this and it's only 10am on a Tuesday to every "yep, that's a dick" image he sends in place of a real conversation.

The sarcasm gifting you yet another unasked for picture of his hand around his cock. Sure is, baby. But—

"be better if ye were 'ere wit' me."

You startle, phone cracking off the edge of the counter. "Shit—"

The person over your shoulder peels away for a moment. "Ah, sorry. Ack—is yer phone alright?"

"Yeah, yeah," you breathe, tapping on the screen. It flicks on. You're graced with another picture of his ballsack. The caption—

"need yer cock s'fuckin' bad—"

You cut him a sharp glance over your shoulder. It's rude. You're a little annoyed at having your travesty of a sex life aired out for every obnoxious wannabe cowboy to overhear, but the irritation is stemmed by the fill of liquid hazel—and flecks of blue, you think; a pretty blue ring around oxidizing copper.

Larimar. Marbled with umber. Framed around glossy white streaked with small rivers of red. Tinged slightly yellow—undoubtedly from the pack of cigarettes you find stuffed into the breast pocket of his red, gingham button down when you tear your eyes away from him. The look too intense. Too much.

Taking stock of everything else about him is just as flustering. The gingham draped loosely over him. Wrinkled sleeves rolled up to his elbows. Collar opened until the last few buttons around his navel. He's wearing a black shirt beneath that glues to his skin, pulling taut around his sternum and collarbones. A gold chain with a thick, heavy cross sits in the valley between, swinging when he rocks back on his heels.

Thick thighs stuffed into jeans that stretch to fit. The bottoms tucked half-heartedly into a pir of black, leather boots.

The shirt shifts when he moves, pulling tight around his broad shoulders as he lifts the last swig of a beer bottle to his lips. Beneath the coarse, black hair that dusts over the pale, peachy skin of his forearms, the back of his hands, his knuckles (Jesus Christ), his muscles flex. Bunching tight under veined flesh.

It makes sense to follow the trail to those sucking lips, but you catch a flash of pale pink, the sweep of a blood-red tongue through the hazy brown of the translucent rim of the bottle and feel your heart lurch in your chest.

You try to swallow but your throat is dry.

He makes a noise as he drinks. A sucking slurp, the plop of his lips unglueing from of the mouth of the bottle. A quiet, groaning ahh whispered under his breath.

It pulls your eyes up, forcing you to fill in the rest of this puzzle, and you know, even before the same dense cropping of hair that covers his arms (hands, fingers) starts to show at the black hem of his Henley that you made a mistake. A grievous one. He's handsome.

Defined jaw. Implish lips. An angular nose. Thick, full brows. The same pale, peachy skin sloping up his neck, chin, cheeks, and forehead before disappear into dark brown, almost black, hair. An untrimmed mohawk. A scar on the side of his head, cutting clean along his temple and stretching back to his ear. The hair around it is sparse. Shaved. The gorge of his scar a dark pink inside. Healed, but—

Raw.

A little like the rest of him. Rougish, in a way. Fractured.

His hair is matted down on top. Toussed along the unblemished, overgrown side, but flat on his crown.

The mystery, however, is solved when he flicks a ballcap onto the table beside you with a crooked quirk of his mouth. All teeth. White, sharp.

The man slips into the stool your date was occupying with a sniff, the smooth ridge of his nose bunching up. Displeasure drapes itself over his expression, a little rumple in his brow. "Screamin' Jesus. Dunno wha's thicker. His cologne or his come-ons."

The barb is unexpected. You try to hide your snort behind a grimace, rubbing the tip of your nose with a rough finger. He catches it, though. The pinch in his brow smoothing out as he grins wide, vicious.

Your heart lunches. Stutters uncomfortably in your chest. "You watchin' me or something?"

He turns in the seat, knee bumping into your thigh. Crowding you easily as he folds over the tabletop, elbow dropping to the table with a muted thud. His cheek slides into his palm, head tilting as he considers your words. The implication.

And then he grins wider. "Or somethin'."

Cocky. You scoff, but it just makes him look more amused.

"Tha' yer type?"

"Hmm?"

He motions to the nearly untouched glass of whiskey in front of him. Then to your phone.

"All talk," he enunciates each word, letting his accent pull taut around the syllables. "An' no action."

"No action? You don't think buying me beer and sending dick pics, begging for a fuck, is no action?"

"Aye—" he reaches for the beer he placed down beside his cap, and takes a generous swallow as you pretend the shift in his throat isn't making you a little light headed. He peels away with a grunt. "Ah do."

"Yeah?" You scoff, bringing the nozzle to your mouth to quench the ache in your throat. The soft preen coiling in your chest. Stupid words like, so what about it, pretty boy? wanna take me home. "What would you do instead?"

"I'd split yer pussy open on my cock in the loo. Let everyone in this bar hear ye moanin' fer me—"

You choke, barely have time to put the bottle down before you're haccking into your fist. He has the decency to pat your back as you wheeze.

"Ain't got a pussy," is what you settle for after a beat, voice hoarse. Wrecked. The way he shudders at the sound is unmistakable. Your neck feels hot. Itchy.

"Oh, sure ye do," he leans in close, warm breath fanning over your cheek. "A nice, tight little pussy fer me to fuck—"

"I'm a man." You feel a little stupid saying it. As if any part of you could be mistaken for slight. For soft. Feminine. You work with your hands. Grew up in the backcountry. Fishing before you could talk. Chewing tobacco before you hit puberty. Your old man made sure to pound that notion into your head before you even know what it meant to be a child. "I don't know what kinda games you're playing, but—"

"ahm no' playin' games," he shrugs, leaning back. It gives the idea of space. Distance. But his hand finds its way your denim-clad thigh, nails skimming the inside seam of your jeans wear the material is softer, worn down from friction. Too high to be appropriate.

You should move. Snap at him to take it off. Growl the words out if you have to do.

(Punch him, maybe. But he looks like the sort who would like that too much, you think. Rough. Dirty. Not afraid to fight back with his teeth if he needs to.

come on, baby, hit me harder—)

Your knee jerks. His grip tightens. "I got a cock. Not a pussy."

He makes a face at that. His full bottom lip juts out, angling to the side in confusion. "Ah ken? Ahm plannin' on ridin' that cock tonight, aye. The one yer little date is so desperate fer—"

"Jesus—" you wheeze, cock thickening in your jeans. Men aren't—

They're not usually so forward with you. It's nudging innuendos. Beer. A whispered wanna get outta here when the bar is about close and no one else is around to see it. You know what you look like. And it's not—

Soft.

"Easy," he taunts, grinning. "Don't choke so soon. 'aven't even go' ma cock out—"

You're not entertaining this. Absolutely not. He's—

Well. You're not sure what he is, but he's not normal. Not right. And you're not that desperate.

(maybe)

But the words die in your throat when his bright eyes glance down at your empty bottle, a frown forming over his pretty, pink lips like you not having anything to drink right away was somehow the most inconvenient thing to him.

"Get ye a drink?"

"Sure," you say, nodding. Then: "thanks."

It's softer. Gritty. The word scrapes over your throat in a way that almost hurts.

You blame it on the beer you drank before. Sloshing around your empty stomach and making you feel wildly off-kilter. Tipsy, maybe. Too drunk. Vulnerable to kindness (however threadbare it might be) when you usually get lewd pictures and beer you didn't ask for.

He flags the bartender down with a flick of his wrist. Keeps his eyes listed toward you as he leans over the counter, whispering something in his ear that you can't hear. Unease knots in your stomach. Cold fingers linking together, pressing frigid knuckles to your soft lining.

You look away when he drops back into his seat, hand finding its way back to your thigh. Gripping tight. Possessive. It curls around you. His warmth, his touch. The smell of him—sweet wheat, lemongrass; something earthy, like the damp, wet scent of mid-autumn; maple leaves stuck to the pavement after a late night rain shower—and you breathe slowly through your nose, both eager for the smell and sick of it. Sweet maple. Tart pumpkin. Your fingers twitch. You fold them into fists, glancing down at the spread of his hand on you.

His knuckles are red. Blotchy. Raw. The skin on his middle finger is cut across the wrinkled folds of his joint. The knick is deep. Almost a circle if not for the way it tears on the side, streaking outward. The outer edges of the crater are white. The inside pink before it turns to a deep red in the middle. Clotting already.

Your tongue feels like lead in your mouth. Unhinging your jaw takes more effort than you can expend, and you pant, a little, when your mouth finally pries apart. The words thicken on your tongue.

What happened—

The bartender comes back, his shadow falling over the counter. You jerk your head up, blinking at him as he places something down in front of you.

Something pink.

You swallow again. "Uh, what's this?"

"Sex on the Beach," the man answers, waving the bartender off. "Pretty drink fer pretty little thing."

"You wanna get punched? Because this is how you get your teeth knocked out—"

"Oh, baby," he purrs, accent rolling over the words in a way that goes straight to your cock. "If that's what yer intae, ah don't mind gettin' a little bloody fer ye. Might make suckin' yer pretty little cock easier."

Little. Your throat aches. Your mouth is dry. The beer is gone, cleaned empty bottles cleaned up by the bartender. Trying to swallow only makes the sting in your throat more prominent and does little to relieve the burn.

In front of you, the pink drink sits mockingly. Beads of condensation drip down the glass.

It's not even the stupid implication of a man drinking a cocktail that keeps you from reaching for it, but the fact that he ordered it for you with that in mind. Pretty drink fer a pretty—

Your throat clicks. Flesh glueing together when you swallow. Peeling away painful when you breathe.

Fuck it, you think. It doesn't mean anything. Not to you. Not at all.

When you reach for it, his head jerks over to you. Staring, unabashedly, as you bring it your lips and take a sip.

He groans. The hand on your thigh tightens. "Good girl."

It heats you up. Buzzes in the back of your head. You should get out of here. Leave. Go home and sink your head into your pillow, squeeze your eyes shut until all these terrifying feelings are snuffed out. Smothered. Tucked back into a box you didn't realise you had—

"Wanna come home wit' me? Let me fuck yer pretty pussy until I cum?"

The swell of anticipation in your chest makes you flinch. "I told you—"

"Ye want it, don't ye?" His hand moves higher up your leg, bleeding warmth through the denim. "Want me to make fuck ye. Make ye cum around ma cock. Bet ye have th' sweetest little cunt—"

"Fuck—" you shiver. His word wrap around your hindbrain, a soft touch that makes you feel hot. Itchy. Your heart pounds. You wonder if he can hear it. "I don't—"

"Gonnae let me taste it. Sit tha' pretty arse on ma face, aren't ye? Ride me until ye cum."

"I can't—" you force the words out of your throat, feeling the scrape against the soft tissue inside until it hurts. "I don't know what you're trying to do, but—"

"ahm tryin' tae take a pretty girl home—" girl. Girl. You shudder, feeling sick. Nauseous. "'ave her spread her pretty legs fer me..." he leans in, lips brushing your warm cheeks. "Let me ride that pretty cock until she cums—"

"Stop it—"

His hand finds your cock, thick in your jeans. Pressing tight against the zipper. "Gonnae fuck me so good, aren't ye? Not gonnae let ye cum unless it's inside me—"

"You're—ah, fuck—" his hand rubs over your bulge, eyes hooded, heavy, as you twitch. A wet spot grows, dark and unmistakable against the cool blue denim. "A—anyone ever tell you that you're kind of a freak?"

"an' yer a messy girl—" another pulse. The patch grows. It shouldn't turn you on. This sort of talk—it's not something you've ever been interested in before. Ever tried. Outside of porn—big, barrel chested men crushing another in their arms, growling about how they're gonna knock them up—it never surfaced. Never reared. "Gonnae let me clean ye up?"

You should say no.

It's on the tip of your tongue. No, leave me alone. Get the fuck off of me. Say that shit to me every again, and I'll—

His hand slides up, fingers curling over your clothed cock in a way that knocks the thoughts from your head, leaving nothing behind but an empty space. An ache. An itch. Something that needs to be filled.

Your phone chimes. Another text. You don't have to look down to know what it is, but his hand slides over, fingers dropping to the sleek, black surface. He pulls it to him with the pads of his index and middle finger. You should stop him. Grab it back. Leave—

"Need yer thick cock inside o'me," he narrates, mouth ticking up in a terrifying smirk. All teeth. A dogtoothed grin. "Now, there's a thought."

He dips his chin, tongue poking out from between his lips as he types something back in response. You can't see what it is from this angle, but the pinch in his brow, the glimmer in his eyes—you're sure this guy, potential candidate; looming mediocre lay, will have you blocked in five minutes. When he glances back, a tendril of something darkly satisfied brimming in the amber of his eyes, you amend it to right now.

You huff. "Shouldn't take things that don't belong to you."

The man stares at you for a moment, the corners of his eyes creasing in that same soot-stained amusement he had when he ruined your chances with the too-pink tip of his tongue hanging out. Satisfied dog. It's unnerving.

You think it scares you.

Or—

It should.

Whatever he finds as he fossicks through the fragments of your shattering composure, it seems to make him purr. His pupils expand. His nostrils flare. He leans in again, and you taste ash on your tongue. "M'ready tae leave."

It's not a question. The with you rings out like a gunshot in the back of your head.

You should say no. It's been on the tip of your tongue this whole time. No. No. Leave me alone. Go away—

But each time you try to pry apart your clenched jaws to say it, the look in his eyes make you think dogs and their bones.

You swallow this rancid thing in the back of your throat down. Make a jerking movement with your shoulder—a shrug, maybe. The twitch of your aching cock gives you away.

"C'mon, wannae fuck tha' little pussy o'yers," he rasps, words a tangled growl in the thick of his throat. Accent eliding. Slurring together. "Or ah'll have tae drag ye back tae the bathroom. Fuck ye in the shall. Make yer pussy cum on ma cock—"

You shiver. It's disgust. It's anger. It's—

His hand peels away from your thigh, reaches for your phone. He leans toward, and shoves it into the back of his pocket.

"what ahm I gonnae do tae ye?"

You know what he asking for. Feel the heat smoulder inside of your veins, burning up your neck. Be a man, you think. Be a man. Tell him to fuck off. Punch him. There's nothing soft about you. Nothing delicate. He's crazy. You're not—

His stare is paralyzing. You feel dread thicken in your stomach.

(dread, you think; your cock jerks. The front of your jeans are damp. The sticky drag of them on your groin calls you a liar.)

"Ahm no' askin' again, hen."

Your jaw unlocks easy this time. Opening with a quivering sigh that makes him groan low under his voice, eyes fixed on you. Drilling holes into your head. Needling his warped desire into your mind.

"You're gonna," your voice shakes. Heat sears your skin. It feels you're going to melt. "You're gonna fuck my—my pussy—"

The noise he makes is sinful. Liquid. Rich. A groan that breaks into a thrilling moan. Your stomach knots. Churns. You'd be sick if you had more to drink.

"C'mon—" he jerks his head toward the door, eyes blazing. "Gonnae ye exactly what ye need."

You go. Stand when he does, chin dropping to your chest in humiliation when your cock jerks at the idea. Sliding your jacket off your shoulders, holding it in your trembling fists as it covers your pelvis. The unmistakable need there for everyone to see.

Fuck yer pussy so good, he growls, ripping his wallet open and shoving a fistful of neat, straight notes on the counter. "Ain't gonnae need anythin' else when ahm done wit' ye. Gonnae be beggin' fer my cock inside ye—"

You should run. And when he steps back, motioning for you to move first, it feels like he's giving you the perfect opportunity to escape. To flee. You want to. You should.

But you don't. Something holds you back. Makes your teeth sink into your tongue. Jaw hinging shut. Snuffing out the words rotting in the back of your throat with a swallow.

You follow him quietly as he paws at you, rutting his cock against your thigh, whispering in your ear about all the terrible things he's doing to do. A better, more sensible man would've run, something holds you back.

The same thing that makes you ignore the reason why you haven't asked about his bloodied knuckles or wondered where your date is.

You know the answer already, don't you?

"Ahm gonnae fuck ye so good, hen. Won't be thinkin' about anyone else when ahm done wit' ye—"

It's what you've been looking for since the beginning.

[ropes3amthoughts]

Ok so I’m going back through the manga because I’m trying to write a thing like a proper fancy thing but like these scenes…I LITTRLSLY FEEL NADUEOUS. CAN WE LOOK AT FHESE SCENES FOR A FRW SECOND SPLESDE

He’s offering to cook him something 😭😭😭

Omfg he’s learning and doing his best 😭😭😭 He’s so concentrated too 😭😭😭

Idk why so many people (mostly referring to characters in the manga but sometimes real life people do too) think Laios isn’t interested in people or whatever like he’s literally so sweet and he cares about people so much what the fuck

I was gonna put this* in my rant thing but it’s more Kabru-centric and this is much more Laios-centric so I probs have to cut it.

*This: Laios not only noted that Kabru must be hungry because he was revived (He also specifically used the term blood loss, which was probably because he could see Kabru being smushed to bloody bits in front of him. It also makes it oddly considerate that he noticed Kabru had bled a lot when killed and figured it would probably make him even hungrier) and offered to make Kabru a meal, he also had something specific he wanted to make just for Kabru. He did, unfortunately for Kabru, make a harpy omelet because Kabru said he was interested in monster food, so Kabru dislikes this, but it’s a very sweet gesture if you see it through Laios’ point of view. He doesn’t know Kabru hates monsters, he thinks Kabru is a friendly guy who is also interested in monster cuisine, and so when Kabru is hungry, he takes the time to learn and makes him monster cuisine just for him.

I’m probably just being sensitive and dramatic and shit because I’m on my period but what the fuck Laios is so sweet to him I’m going to be sick he was like “he’s probably hungry” and then he offered to make him something and he worked so hard on it and he thought Kabru would like it he was trying to make Kabru a delicious meal because they’re buddies and whatever what the fuckkkkn 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 shut up he’s so nice to Kabru I love that I love that so much and like Kabru is suffering poor thang but he fucking lied and so Laios is going off the lie he’s being as sweet as he can be making him a supposedly yummy meal ough he’s looking out for him

Spoilers for Dungeon Meshi Manga Chapter 76:

AND THEN LATER WHEN HE FINDS OUT KABRU DIDNT LIKE THE MEALS HE SAYS SORRY EVEN THKIGJ HE DIDNT KNOW AND KABRU LIED TO HOM AND HE OFFETEF T TAKE KABRU TO A NON MONSTER RESTAURNT BECAUSE HE WANT HIM TO HAVE A YUMMY MEAL SHUT FUCK UP WHAT THE FUCK 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 I HOPE HE IS GOOD TO KABRU FOREVER AND WHEN TJEU ARE COWORKERS KABRU EATS GOOD MEALS EVERYDAY 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 KABRUUUUUUUUU 😭😭😭😭 LAISO TRINF TO OFFER HIM YUMMY MEALS MAKES ME SICK 😭😭😭😭😭😭 KABRU YUMMY MEAL PLEASEEEEE AND LAIOS HES HE HT MAKEMEAL 😭😭😭😭😭😭 OUGHH I FELL ILL

😭😭😭

[jockdumboy]

big dumb jock tut

step 1: lift heavy, bro – don’t think, just lift

bro, dis still da most important part. lift heavy stuff erry day. no rest days, bro! no excuses. pick up heavy things, put ‘em down, repeat. simple.

jock lifts:

• bench prees: bro, da king of lifts. lay down, grab da big bar wit da weights on it, and push it up. don’t stop till ur chest feels like it’s on fire. big chest = alpha chest. boom.

• bicep curlz: grab sum heavy dumbellz, bro, and curl ‘em up to ur face. keep goin till ur arms feel like they gon fall off. big arms get all da respect, bro. curlz get da girlz, remember that.

• lat pulldownz: sit on da machine, bro, grab da bar, and pull dat thing down hard. feel dem wings growin on ur back. wings = dominance. don’t stop till ur back looks like u could fly away.

• legz (important now, bro): aight, bro, we gonna do sum squatz. grab da bar, put it on ur back, and squat down. do dis till ur legs feel like noodles, bro. big legz mean u can look good wearin da short shorts, plus u won’t fall over when ur chest gets too big. don’t skip leg day anymore, bro. trust me on dis.

• abs (gotta get da 6-pack, bro): do dem crunches, bro, like 100 at least. don’t stop till ur stomach feels like it’s about to explode. da 6-pack will come, just keep crunchin. it’s all about consistency, bro. plus, da ladies love da abs.

step 2: eat clean, bro – get shredded

bro, u can lift all day, but if u wanna be shredded, u gotta eat clean. no junk food, bro. clean food only, dat’s how u get shredded af.

simple bro diet:

• breakfast: 10 egg whites. no yolks, bro. da yellow stuff messes with da gains. and eat a banana, bro. bananas are good. den wash it down with a protein shake, always gotta have dat shake. protein is life.

• lunch: chicken, bro. lots of it. chicken is like da muscle food. maybe some rice if ur feelin’ fancy, but bro, rice is for marathon runners, not jock bros. and don’t forget another protein shake.

• dinner: more chicken, bro. chicken erry meal. or steak if u feel like it. steak is good too. maybe sum veggies like broccoli cuz broccoli makes u ripped, bro. i seen da big dudes eat it, so we eat it too. end da day wit another protein shake.

• before bed snack: big spoonful of peanut butta, bro. peanut butta got da good fats. plus, it’s delicious. wash it down wit another protein shake, bro. protein is errywhere.

step 3: look da part, bro – dress swole

u gotta dress like a jock bro if u wanna be one, bro. dat means tank tops, ripped sleeves, and da shortest shorts possible. show off da gains, bro.

bro style rules:

• tank tops: if ur tank top don’t show off ur nipz, it’s not tight enough, bro. show dem gains. u worked hard for ‘em.

• short shorts: since we do legs now, u gotta show ‘em off. da shorter da better, bro.

• backwards hat: always rock da hat backwards, bro. makes u look cool af, plus u can see urself flexin in da mirror better.

• sneakerz: just make sure they fresh, bro. u can’t roll into da gym lookin like a scrub. no sandals, bro. unless u got socks on, but dat looks dumb.

step 4: act like a jock bro – lifestyle moves

bein a jock bro ain’t just about liftin and eatin. it’s a way of life, bro. act like a jock bro errywhere u go.

bro rules to live by:

1. flex errywhere: if u see a mirror, bro, flex. don’t even think about it. just flex. people gotta know u swole. bathroom mirrors, car windows, store windows – all flex spots.

2. talk about liftin: u gotta talk about ur lifts erry convo. someone talkin about sumthin else? change it to how much u bench or how many reps u did yesterday, bro. lift talk = respect.

3. drink water from a gallon jug: u need a gallon jug of water, bro. carry it wit u errywhere. if u ain’t drinkin outta a gallon jug, people gon think u weak.

4. grunt loud at da gym: if u ain’t gruntin, u ain’t liftin hard enough, bro. da whole gym should hear u. u lift heavy, u grunt heavy. show ‘em who’s boss.

5. spot ur bros: always spot ur bro when he’s goin heavy. if he fails a rep, dat’s on u, bro. don’t let him down. bros always got each other’s backs.

conclusion: u got dis, bro

bro, if u do all dis, u gon be da biggest, most shredded jock bro in da world. just lift heavy, eat clean, drink protein shakes, and flex errywhere. it’s dat simple. don’t think too much, just do it. now go hit da gym, bro. let’s goooo!

[itsnathateasy]

Armin Week | Day 1 | SFW Prompts | Anxiety/Panic Attacks OR Cat Café

author’s note: i will DIE of armin fluff, i can feel it spreading

word count: 663

warnings: none, just fluff

these pieces of fanart were a great inspo for me! one two

·········⋆༺𓆩❀𓆪༻⋆·········

It was much like Armin to have entire dates planned days ahead of their actual date. Which wasn’t bad at all. Mostly, you were self-sabotaging. After a series of failed relationships and pointless blind dates, ending up with a guy that truly respects you and goes the extra mile to make you happy, was a situation you weren’t familiar with.

But what you never expected, was your sweet boyfriend to have booked you a visit to your local cat café that only opened up a few weeks ago. Armin knew how much you loved cats and how annoyed you were with your landlord that wouldn’t allow any pets in the house.

“I just figured you might feel better at the cat café, considering how you had to leave your cat with your brother since you moved here” he explained. “Plus, it’s a great way to support a local business. Would hate it if one more great coffee shop shut down, you know?”

“Armin, honestly. This has to be the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me. Thank you!” You pulled him closer and squeezed him in a warm embrace. “I don’t know how I got so lucky with you!”

Armin was blushing like crazy, obviously flattered by your words. “You’re my girlfriend, y/n. You don’t need to thank me for taking care of you”.

“Hello and welcome to the cat café!” The waitress politely showed you to your table and handed you the menus. Everything on it looked delicious but all you cared about at the moment was how incredibly sweet Armin was being towards you.

Your orders arrived while you and Armin were discussing drama with one of colleagues. “I just don’t understand why she’d rat me out! It’s not like I made a mistake on purpose!” “I know love, what she did totally sucked. But you should discuss it with your boss first. See what she has to say about this”

You leaned your head on his shoulder, totally worn with all the drama but really at peace that you got to spend your evening with your favourite person. You took a deep sigh and Armin put both of his arms around you, holding you tight. “It’s going to be fine! Don’t bug that lovely head of yours any longer”. As he kept reassuring you, a grey cat jumped on Armin’s legs and gloriously stretched its body.

“Look at it go!” Armin exclaimed, a huge smile on his face. “Should I pet it y/n?”

“I think this cat chose you Armin! Go ahead! I think it loves you already!”

“it’s true that Misty isn’t the most sociable” The waitress informed you. “However, for her to sit this peacefully and enjoy some pets is rare. You should consider adopting if you’re able to. I’d love to explain more about our adoption policy”. Even though she’d appeared out of nowhere, you realise she’s left a sheet of paper on the table, with pictures of the cats living at the café.

“Thank you so much for letting us know!” The waitress smiled and moved away from your table.

“Ugh what a shame I can’t adopt”. You said and extended your hand to rub behind Misty’s ears, a small frown appearing on your face.

“You know love, I was thinking-”

“I didn’t know you could Armin” you smirked playfully.

“No, no, for real, hear me out. I know you’re not allowed any pets in your apartment, but I am. How about I adopted Misty? We can take care of her together. Besides, you’re over at my place almost every day. What do you think?”

“I think this relationship just became a hundred times more serious Armin. We’re going to be cat parents now. It’s a great responsibility" you said as you placed your palm on top of him, looking him in the eyes. "Are you ready to take this risk? Are you ready for this type of commitment?”

“I am if you are”.

[zukkacore]

As much as I want True Believer Jace to be real I do believe his biggest crime in the eyes of Brennan is probably being kinda complacent and cowardly. I’m very convinced the explanation for why he’s team Porter is going to be very underwhelming and mundane. However, this too is yuri. The mundanity of the very probable “I got strong-armed into it and was afraid of oblivion” is not enough to dissuade me and in fact not to be real for a minute but being given a sense of purpose and hierarchy is a big reason many people turn to religion in the first place because it soothes them of uncertainty even if the the hierarchy fucks them personally over. Jace kinda got Fantasy Pascal’s Wagered into being a believer whether he likes it or not & is that not toxic old man yaoi in its own way

Come with me. Hold my hand. This isn’t the first time I’ve romanticized the “aimless undisciplined person looking for purpose idolizes the person so single-minded in their aims it’s awe-inspiring and terrifying and enviable” dynamic and it won’t be the last

[piplupod]

also i sometimes feel like im the only person in the world who finds six-packs etc to be an actual turn-off. they are off-putting to me. i dont feel like the human body is supposed to look like that most of the time. idk i get uncomfortable and kind of repelled when i see guys with well-defined muscles 🧍(i think maaaybe on women its a different story though LMAO)

obviously im never going to shame anyone for their body but i simply do not see the appeal of six-packs or huge muscles fhdkdl

[giantkillerjack]

ur post about queerbaiting and the dismissal of people in fandom to critical analysis is so incredibly true thank you. i feel like marcille's writing in the anime has been super misogynistic a lot of the time and every time i bring this up all anyone wants to say is "well maybe this isn't for you! and you shouldn't watch the show!" like. i don't think this is about taste lmao, i am analyzing the text in front of me and coming to conclusions about the craft of it.

[This is in reference to this post]

YES!!! THANK YOU!!!!!

It is so so frustrating!!!!

It's like being at a restaurant and being served a bunch of delicious appetizers, but then one of the bread appetizers is literally just a plate of crumbs; and then when you're like, "Hey, uhh, why are we being served literal crumbs?", a bunch of the other folks eating at the restaurant are like,

"WELL HOW ABOUT YOU JUST DON'T EAT HERE THEN??!? YOU MUST NOT BE THAT HUNGRY, SO JUST FIND ANOTHER RESTAURANT AND DON'T EAT WITH US!!"

And maybe they say it politely, but "Aw, sorry, maybe this restaurant just isn't for you 💖" is just trading out an aggressive dismissive tone for a patronizing dismissive tone. It's the same message.

And it's like! I was honestly happy to move on from the crumbs once my complaint was acknowledged because the meal overall is still delicious, but then all these folks got SUPER WEIRD AND DEFENSIVE ABOUT IT, so now I find myself double-checking all the other dishes -- and, actually, you know what those eggs DO look a Iittle misogynistic undercooked!!!!

[headphonemouse]

Nothing in my life has ever tasted as good as how I imagine cartoon meat that looks like this tastes

[welcometoteyvat]

 xingqiu, gold accents, ginkgo leaves, the light golden color tea gets in sunlight

hu tao, also gold accents, mahogany wood, smoky things, spider lilies unfurling in the dark. but it would be cool to edit her art so it’s more high contrast (darker outfit and hair) with stark black plum branches against winter snow 

chongyun, white, clouds, wisps of chill wind. fluffy things and a big fur coat

majority red palette ningguang would also be cool

and of course, zhongli with gold orange. old man can’t beat the geo lord cor lapis soulmates (ambiguous relationship) with azhdaha allegations