#I had this idea yesterday and felt a need to draw it

[shmorp-mcdurgen]

Idk

Original image:

[maniculum]

Medieval Scorpions Effortpost

So yesterday I reblogged this post featuring an 11th-century depiction of the Apocalypse Locusts from Revelations, noting the following incongruity as another medieval scorpion issue:

The artist, as you can see, has interpreted "tails like scorpions" as meaning "glue cheerful-looking snakes to their butts".

Anyway, it occurred to me that the medieval scorpion thing might not be as widely known as I think it is, and that Tumblr would probably enjoy knowing about it if it isn't known already. So, finding myself unable to focus on the research I'm supposed to be doing, I decided to write about this instead. I'll just go ahead and put a cut here.

As we can see in the image above, at least one artist out there thought a "scorpion" was a type of snake. Which makes it difficult to draw "tails like scorpions", because a snake's tail is not that distinctive or menacing (maybe rattlesnakes, but they don't have those outside the Americas). So they interpreted "tails like scorpions" as "the tail looks like a whole snake complete with head".

Let me tell you. This is not a problem unique to this illustration.

See, people throughout medieval Europe were aware of scorpions. As just alluded to, they are mentioned in the Bible, and if the people producing manuscripts in medieval Europe knew one thing, it was Stuff In Bible. They're also in the Zodiac, which medieval Europe had inherited through classical sources. However, let's take a look at this map:

That's Wikipedia's map of the native range of the Scorpiones order, i.e., all scorpion species. You may notice something -- the range just stops at a certain northern latitude. Pretty much all of northern Europe is scorpion-free. If you lived in the north half of Europe, odds were good you had never seen a scorpion in your life. But if you were literate or educated at all, or you knew they were a thing, because you'd almost certainly run across them being mentioned in texts from farther south. And those texts wouldn't bother to explain what a scorpion was, of course -- everyone knows scorpions, right? When was the last time you stopped to explain What Is Spiders?

So medieval writers and artists in northern Europe were kind of stuck. There was all this scorpion imagery and metaphor in the texts they liked to work from, but they didn't really know what a scorpion was. Writers could kind of work around it (there's a lot of "oh, it's a venomous creature, moving on"), but sometimes they felt the need to break it down better. For this, of course, they'd have to refer to a bestiary -- but due to Bestiary Telephone and the persistent need of bestiary authors to turn animals into allegories, one of the only visual details you got on scorpions was that they... had a beautiful face, which they used to distract people in order to sting them.

And look. I'm not here to yuck anyone's yum, but I would say that a scorpion's face has significant aesthetic appeal only for a fairly small segment of the population. I'm sure you could get an entomologist to rhapsodize about it a bit, but your average person on the street will not be entranced by the face of a scorpion. So this did not help the medieval Europeans in figuring out how to depict scorpions. There was also some semantic confusion -- see, in some languages (such as Old and Middle English), "worm" could be a general term for very small animals of any kind. But it also could mean "serpent".* So there were some, like our artist at the top of the post, who were pretty sure a scorpion was a snake. This was probably helped along by the fact that "venomous" was one of the only things everyone knew about them, and hey, snakes are venomous. Also, Pliny the Elder had floated the idea that there were scorpions in Africa that could fly, and at least one author (13th-century monk Bartholomaeus Anglicus) therefore suggested that they had feathers. I don't see that last one coming up much, I just share it because it's funny to me.

*English eventually resolved this by borrowing the Latin vermin for very small animals, using the specialized spelling wyrm for big impressive mythical-type serpents, and sticking with the more specific snake for normal serpents.

Some authors, like the anonymous author of the Ancrene Wisse, therefore suggested that a scorpion was a snake with a woman's face and a stinging tail. (Everyone seemed to be on the same page with regards to the fact that the sting was in the tail, which is in fact probably the most recognizable aspect of scorpions, so good job there.) However, while authors could avoid this problem, visual artists could not. And if you were illustrating a bestiary or a calendar, including a scorpion was not optional. So they had to take a shot at what this thing looked like.

And so, after this way-too-long explanation, the thing you're probably here for: inaccurate medieval drawings of scorpions. (There are of course accurate medieval drawings of scorpions, from artists who lived in the southern part of Europe and/or visited places where scorpions lived; I'm just not showing you those.) And if you find yourself wondering, "how sure are you that that's meant to be a scorpion?" -- all of these are either from bestiaries or from calendars that include zodiac illustrations.

11th-century England, MS Arundel 60. (Be honest, without the rest of this post, if I had asked you to guess what animal this was supposed to be, would you have ever guessed “scorpion”?)

12th-century Germany, "Psalter of Henry the Lion". (Looks a bit undercooked. Kind of fetal.)

12th-century France, Peter Lombard's Sententiae. (Very colorful, itsy bitsy claws, what is happening with that tail?)

12th-century England, "The Shaftesbury Psalter". (So a scorpion is some sort of wyvern with a face like a duck, correct?)

13th-century France, Thomas de Cantimpré's Liber de natura rerum. (I’d give them credit for the silhouette not being that far off, but there’s a certain bestiary style where all the animals kind of look like that. Also note how few of these have claws.)

13th-century England, "The Bodley Bestiary". (Mischievous flying squirrel impales local man’s hand, local man fails to notice.)

13th-century England, Harley MS 3244. (A scorpion is definitely either a mouse or a fish. Either way it has six legs.)

13th-century England, Harley MS 3244. (Wait, no, it’s a baby theropod, and it has two legs. (Yes, this is the same manuscript, that’s not an error, this artist did four scorpions and no two are the same.))

13th-century England, Harley MS 3244. (Actually it’s a lizard with tiny ears and it has four legs.)

13th-century England, Harley MS 3244. (Now that we’re at the big fancy illustration, I think I’ve got it — it’s like that last one, but two legs, longer ears, and a less goofy face. Also I’ve decided it’s not pink anymore, I think that was the main problem.)

13th-century England, MS Kk.4.25. (A scorpion is a flat crocodile with a bear’s head.)

13th-century England, "The Huth Psalter". (Wyvern but baby! Does not seem to be enjoying biting its own tail.)

13th-century England, MS Royal 1 D X. (This triangular-headed gentlecreature gets the award for “closest guess at correct limb configuration”. If two of those were claws, I might actually believe this artist had seen a scorpion before, or at least a picture of one.)

13th-century England, "The Westminster Psalter". (A scorpion is the offspring of a wyvern and a fawn.)

13th-century England, "The Rutland Psalter". (Too many legs! Pull back! Pull back!)

13th or 14th-century France, Bestiaire d'amour rimé. (This is very similar to the fawn-wyvern, but putting it in an actual Scene makes it even more obvious that you’re just guessing.)

14th-century Netherlands, Jacob van Maerlant's Der Naturen Bloeme. (More top-down six-legged guys that look too furry to be arthropods.)

14th-century Germany, MS Additional 22413. (That is clearly a turtle.)

14th-century France, Matfres Eymengau de Beziers's Breviari d'amor. (Who came up with that head shape and what was their deal?)

15th-century England, "Bestiary of Ann Walsh". (Screw it, a scorpion is a big lizard that glares at you for trying to make me draw things I don’t know about.)

I've spent way too much time on this now. End of post, thank you to anyone who got all the way down here.

[incognit0slut]

Just the sloppiest head ever, that’s it. Choking, gagging, etc

Spencer finally lets you go down on him after you convince him that you're ready.

Warnings: (18+) soft dom spence x inexperienced fem reader. Oral sex (male receiving while he talks you through it?), female masturbation because reader can’t help herself lol. 1.8k words a/n: this is very much self-indulgent because I need him so bad. Ty anon for requesting

"No."

You pulled away from him, shifting your weight on his lap as you peered down at him, a furrow forming on your brow. "No?"

He gently shook his head, his hands tracing up your thighs. "You're not ready yet."

You leaned back, creating some space between you, though it wasn't much given the way you were straddling him. "Wait a minute," you protested. "Since when do you get to decide if I'm ready or not? And why aren't you into it when most guys would be jumping at the chance?"

A faint smile danced on his lips. "I thought I’m the first guy you've ever been with."

"That's not the point!"

He laughed, his hands finding a firm grip on your waist. "It's not that I don’t enjoy the idea..."

"Then what's holding you back?"

He paused for a moment, his expression softening as he looked into your eyes. "Because I care about you," he confessed, his thumb tracing circles on your hip. "And I don't want you to feel pressured or rushed for anything we do together."

"That's what I've been trying to say," you replied. "I don't feel pressured. I want to."

He studied you, and when the silence went on, you knew you had to do something to reassure him. With a gentle sigh, you shifted closer, nestling against him, and allowed your lips to graze the sensitive curve of his neck. It was a spot you knew well, one that never failed to draw out a reaction from him. You felt the subtle hitch in his breath and smiled.

"You already went down on me yesterday and I really, really liked it," you murmured between kisses, your lips trailing further down. "Let me do the same for you."

Feeling the warmth of your breath against his skin, he let out a soft sigh, his resolve weakening.

"I..." he began, his voice catching as he struggled to find the right words.

You lifted your head to meet his gaze. "Trust me," you whispered, your fingers tracing soothing patterns on his chest. "Let me show you how much I want this."

His eyelids drooped slightly as your hands moved down. When you paused, fingers poised right above the evident bulge in his pants, you realized you had him right where you wanted him to be.

"Come on, Spencer," you whispered, gripping him over the material of his pants, working your hand up and down his thickness. "Let me suck your cock."

He sucked in a sharp breath, his grip tightening on your waist as he met your gaze. What kind of man would he be to deny you? To say no to you as you looked at him with those glossy eyes, your lips running along your lips? With a low groan, he finally gave in, his resolve crumbling as he nodded in silent agreement. 

"Okay," he breathed out, his voice heavy with need. "Okay, just... only if you're sure."

With a reassuring smile, you leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. "I'm sure," you whispered against his skin.

As if a switch had been flipped, you felt the tension in him dissipate entirely. His touch on your waist was firm, sending a shiver down your spine, and the look in his eyes had you already feeling a flush of heat between your legs.

"Get on your knees."

Your breath caught in your throat at his tone, a thrill coursing through you at the sheer dominance in his demeanor. Without hesitation, you obeyed, slipping off the couch and sinking to your knees before him. The intensity of his gaze sent a delicious shiver down your spine, and you looked up at him, meeting his eyes as he reached for his belt.

As he undid his belt, the anticipation between you intensified, and you could feel the heat building between your thighs. With a slow, deliberate motion, he freed himself from the confines of his pants. Your pulse quickened as your gaze lingered on him, drinking in every detail, every inch of him, the veins pulsing on the underside of his cock.

Unable to resist any longer, you reached out, your fingers trailing lightly over his length, feeling the heat emanating from him. "I..." you started, your voice wavering slightly. "I might be bad at this."

His hand reached out to brush a strand of hair away from your face. "Do you want me to talk you through it?"

Your heart skipped a beat at his offer. "Yes, please," you replied. "I want to make this good for you."

A soft smile tugged at his lips. "You already make it good just by being here," he murmured. "But I'll guide you, okay?"

His words melted away your nerves. "Okay," you whispered. "What do I do first?"

"Start with gentle kisses," he instructed, his voice low and soothing. "Explore the tip with your lips."

Following his guidance, you leaned in, pressing soft kisses along his length, feeling the tension in him building with each tender touch. You focused on every sensation, savoring the moment as you allowed yourself to immerse in the way he pulsed underneath your touch.

"Good," he murmured, his breath hitching as he looked down at the way you were gripping his cock, your mouth exploring every inch of him. "Now, use your tongue. Start with light strokes."

Encouraged by his words, you followed his guidance. With gentle strokes, you explored the sensitive skin with your tongue. His reaction was immediate—a sharp intake of breath followed by a low groan that sent a shiver down your spine. 

His reaction spurred you on as you increased the pressure of your strokes. His hands found their way into your hair, his fingers tangling in the strands as he held you close. "That's it," he whispered, his voice thick with need. "Just like that."

A sense of power washed over you as you continued to tease him with your tongue, relishing in the way he squirmed beneath you. You marveled at the effect you had on him, and with a boldness you didn't know you possessed, you licked him from the base to the tip, savoring the taste of him on your tongue.

His reaction was immediate, a low groan escaping his lips as he arched into your touch. "You're driving me crazy," he breathed out. "Do you think you can handle more?"

Your heart raced at the question, excitement coursing through your veins. "Yes," you replied.  "Please."

He guided your lips over to his tip. "Now take me in your mouth."

You leaned in, allowing him to slide into your parted lips. The sensation was intoxicating, the taste of him filling your senses as you eagerly accepted him into your mouth. His hands gently guided you, encouraging you to find a rhythm that worked for both of you and before you knew it, your head was bopping up and down his length.

With your hand already gripping him, you began pumping up and down as you sucked him, eliciting deep groans and breathy moans from him in return. "God, your mouth feels so good," he hissed, his voice thick with desire. "Look up at me."

Obeying his command, you lifted your gaze to meet his, locking eyes with him. He looked down at you with his cock buried deep inside your mouth, your cheeks flushed, and lips stretched wide around his girth. Driven by the desire to give him more pleasure, you sank your mouth further, keeping your eyes locked on his as his tip hit the back of your throat. 

The sensation made you gag, your throat burning with the effort, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. But you pushed through before finally pulling back, a string of saliva trailing from your lips as you gasped for air, and despite the discomfort, the look of satisfaction on his face made it all worth it.

His head fell back against the couch, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. "I don't think I can last much longer," he admitted, his voice strained.

Feeling a surge of pride at the effect you had on him, you leaned in close, your lips brushing against his cock again, "Then let go. I want to taste you."

"Yeah?" he breathed, looking down at you. "You'd let me come in your mouth?"

Your tongue flickered over his tip, one right over his slit, and you felt his hips buck underneath you. "I think I'd let you do anything to me by now."

He let out a sound of pleasure, and without hesitation, you took him into your mouth again. You set a steady pace, moaning around his shaft as spit dribbled past the corners of your lips and down your chin. It wasn't long until the room was filled with obscene lewd noises as you took as much of him down your throat.

With each throb of him in your mouth and every intoxicating sound he made, the ache between your thighs intensified until it became unbearable. Unable to resist any longer, you let your free hand slide between your thighs, slipping underneath your skirt.

Surprised at how wet your panties were, you wasted no time in spreading your arousal everywhere, your fingers finding your clit with ease. You spread your legs further on the floor, arching your back as you pleasured yourself, your movements synchronized with the rhythm of your mouth along his cock.

Spencer's breath hitched as he noticed your dainty hand between your legs, the sight of you touching yourself while eagerly sucking and bobbing your head up and down his length sending him to the edge. He couldn't hold back any longer. 

He tightened his grip on your hair, his hips instinctively thrusting into your mouth as he surrendered to the overwhelming sensation. His release finally washed over him in waves, his body trembling with the force of it as he emptied himself into your waiting mouth, and you swallowed the hot spurts down your throat eagerly, savoring the taste of him.

It didn't take long for you to feel the familiar coil of pleasure building within you. With his release still fresh on your tongue, you shifted your focus to your own pleasure, your fingers picking up the pace as you sought your own climax. And then, with a sharp gasp, you felt the wave of pleasure crashing over you.

You finally released him when your orgasm subsided, slumping over his lap. He was quick to bring you up on the couch, a tender smile on his lips as he looked down at you. "Did you make yourself come?"

Feeling a warm flush spread across your cheeks, you nodded breathlessly, unable to meet his gaze. "Yeah..."

His smile softened further, his fingers gently lifting your chin to meet his gaze.

"There's nothing to be embarrassed about," he assured you. But before you could respond, you felt his other hand slipping inside your skirt, tugging down your panties.

Your eyes went wide. "What are you doing?"

"I think it's only fair," he replied as he pulled your panties down your legs. Then, to your surprise, he got to his knees, positioning himself between your thighs as he pushed your legs apart. "I want to taste you too."

[josephquinnswhore]

Her Sanctuary

Pairing: Joel Miller x female reader.

Summary: you start pulling away from Joel, he’s scared he’s going to lose you.

Word Count: 1.7k

Content Warning: mentions of anxiety, bad mental health. Joel talking about Sarah!!! 😭 soft Joel!!!!! Hurt/comfort.

Note: kinda just wrote this on a whim after rewatching the last of us. I miss joel. @cool-iguana ily.

You were an outspoken person. About everything. There wasn’t a single topic you didn’t have an opinion on. Always a snarky reply, a joke, or following pun. That’s just who you were.

Joel spent months wishing you weren’t like that. That you’d just shut up so he could have a few moments of silence between you. His limited replies included a scowl, raised eyebrow or an annoyed grunt. He spent months travelling across the country with you, refusing to open up and reluctantly teaching you how to shoot his rifle.

He didn’t like how you made him feel. How he had started looking at you romantically. The sound of your laugh stirred something in him. Your bright eyes lightened the darkness in his own.

He never allowed himself to let you in; as much as a fight he put up. You wormed yourself into the cracks in the walls around his heart and started to mend him. He doesn’t know when it happened exactly, all he can remember is wanting to hear more of her laugh, he even found her a joke book in an old RV he scouted one evening at the trailer park they posted in overnight.

He had learned how to accept your brightness, for all its worth. Your dorky comments, crooked grin and boisterous laugh. Even those small touches to his back and arm when you would pass by, excusing yourself. Always followed by a mumbled, “sorry.”

But this.. this he didn’t know what to do. He was tearing himself up inside for not knowing what to do. You were quiet today, something bubbling inside of you that radiated off and in between them in a depressing aura that had Joel feeling breathless.

He even found himself staring at you, from the corner of his eyes, turning his head to watch you, making sure you kept up as you lingered a few steps behind him, completely silent. Not laughing, not crying. Silent.

It was heart wrenching and he couldn’t figure out how to put the pieces together to finish the puzzle. Nothing extreme had happened that they hadn’t faced before. They’d fought off some infected yesterday but—it couldn’t have possibly been that. They were fine. They survived.

Maybe you just wasn’t coping as well as he thought you were.

He tried to think of things to cheer you up, and the guilt consumed him when he realised he didn’t really know much about you. He had never asked. It was always you asking about him, pestering to know more about him. He cursed himself for being so selfish.

The harsh reality of their one sided dynamic hit Joel hard, he had always protected her, with his physical strength and ability to kill. That primal instinct that kept them both alive and for what? He couldn’t help her when she actually needed.

He felt utterly useless.

Until. He had an idea. That stupid fucking joke book that she treasured, had to cheer her up right? It had to draw out one of those loud laughs that made his insides flip, the smile that made your eyes squint that his heart craved to see.

He reached into his pack, pulling it out. She’d stashed it in there, insisting that her pack had no more room. He didn’t argue, he knew she struggled carrying the weight. He decided that day that he could carry the extra burden for things that she decided she couldn’t bare.

This baggage however, was tricker. He would take it if he could. He hoped this would work.

He turns around to look at you and what he saw made him feel like there was a metal vice around his heart, your slumped shoulders and black eye bags complimented a vacant look in your eyes, you were unrecognisable in comparison to your default sunshine personality.

“Hey, I was thinkin’ about that algae-bra joke you told me the other day.” He tried to make his voice as soft as he could when he spoke to you, trying to nudge a reaction.

Nothing, she barely looks at him. “Hm?”

“Anyways, I was thinkin’ we could pass the time with this.” He held the joke book in his hand, swinging his pack back over his shoulder, adjusting his rifle strap as he shuffles on his feet.

You felt a spark of something, something that was quickly put out by the fear and darkness that felt so consuming.

“Maybe later?” You offer quietly, walking past him. “It’ll be dark soon.”

Joel felt defeated. How had he failed so badly. How did he let this fester inside of her like a fucking disease that he didn’t know how to get rid of.

This was an infection in your mind; that he figured on his own. This kind of infection he didn’t know how to cure. He had always pushed his own anxiety and panic attacks down burying them, until he learnt to live with it.

But you; the one fucking good thing in his life that brought him life, hope. He wouldn’t allow you to ignore it, to let it consume you.

He wasn’t going to let you fall victim. He would do whatever it took.

He set up camp in silence, stuck in his head about how the fuck he was going to help you, a feeling of shame overwhelmed him as he sits by the fire, rubbing his hands together as you sit in your sleeping bag, across from him.

Arms wrapped tightly around yourself, legs pulled to your chest. It made you look smaller, the way you held yourself protectively. A reflection of the flames flicking in her eyes only made the mood more somber.

He can’t say something came over him, possessed him to say what he felt bubbling up inside of him. He didn’t want to lose her. To him, you were too important, you disarmed him and weaselled your way into his heart. He wasn’t going to let you leave, not ever.

“When my little girl used to get upset, she always shut me out like this, like what you’re doin’, I always told myself she’ll come around.” He nods to himself, as if reminiscing the memory.

You stay silent, watching him. Watching his expression soften.

“An’ now she’s gone it’s all I regret. Not doin’ more. Not making more of an effort with shit like that. Fuckin’ haunts me.��

Not once in the months they’ve travelled he had mentioned having children, a daughter, let alone a decreased one. He had mumbled a few times in his sleep, incoherently a name. Serine, Sari, Sarah? You could never figure it out, and never pried.

But here he was, sitting across from her looking on with longing eyes and his features the most relaxed she’d ever seen.

“I ain’t makin’ that same mistake again, seein’ you like this, pullin’ away. Feels like I’m failin’ all over again.” His admission shocks you, enough to stun a quiet confession from your own lips before you could think.

“I thought you were going to die.” He seems surprised to hear you talking, but stays silent, wanting you to talk more, wanting to hear more.

“I know we’ve dealt with plenty of infected.. we’ve had some close calls even, sure.” Your heart clenched as you recall.

Joel lying on the ground with that infected on top of him, Joel’s gun inches away as he fumbles, fingertips desperately grasping the hairs of grass as he searched for his weapon.

Holding the infected away with one arm, grunting in a struggle that he was bound to lose. It’s rotten teeth and fleshy stench was so close to grazing Joel’s neck. Inches away from sealing his fate.

You had somehow mustered some courage inside of you to tackle the infected, throwing it off Joel and giving him a split second to reach for his gun and put a bullet in the back of the infected’s head.

Your jeans still stunk, of gunpowder and blood. A stench so vile you couldn’t help but relive the moment, it was on your mind every second, unable to process it all.

You almost lost Joel. Joel almost fucking died. It was a breath away.

“I thought if I just—shut down maybe you’d get tired and ditch me.. worse yet I’d stop caring about you so damn much.” Joel’s ears perked at her soft admission.

“And I know you think I’m just—some annoying fucking girl that you have to protect and feed and I’m sorry..“ Joel wouldn’t allow another word.

“Hey. Look at me, now.” His tone was soft, but held a firmness, there was no doubt he wasn’t asking you. He needed you to look at him.

His face looked so soft beyond the flames of the fire, his expression was tender and kind; as no one had ever seen before. He looked beautiful, fuck, he was handsome. You’d always thought so.

“I know it was a close call, we’ve learnt from it, yeah? We won’t make the same mistake.” You nod, Joel continues.

“Don’t pull away from me sweetheart. Please.”

You open your mouth to say something, but Joel interrupts by patting the space beside him.

“C’mere sweetheart. C’mon.” You don’t waste a moment to plop beside him. He wraps his sleeping bag around you and his big hands grip around your torso to pull you into his.

“Tell me you ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

For the first time since you’ve known Joel. He was the one asking for comfort, reassurance.

“Promise I’m not going anywhere Joel.” You nuzzle into him, his natural musk strung a desire out of her that all she could do was lean into him.

“You get some rest now. I’ll keep ya safe.” He murmurs into her ear, a promise.

All you could do was obey him. Closing your eyes as your body and mind revelled in the intimacy and vulnerability of this moment.

His head rested on top of yours, your hair gets stuck in the rugged coarse hairs of his beard. He finds himself nuzzling into you, allowing himself to get lost in you. After months of fighting you; he lets go. He lets you in.

You were his. And he wasn’t going to let anything fucking hurt you. Not even yourself. He would be your sanctuary. No matter what it took.

[redcherrykook]

────𐙚 maybe next time

────୨ৎ────

content: oneshot, strangers to ?, coffe shop, no dialouge, secret mutual pining

note from cherry: after being pissed off from that dm yesterday i had this beautiful idea. Random little story <3

────୨ৎ────

the greatest conspiracies lay beneath the surface of what seems to be most obvious. Dead giveaways- no brainers.

You don't spare a second thought to the boy that sits in the back of your favorite coffee shop, pondering about in his jean jacket that hangs loosely off his body.

The air reeks of brewed coffee and, undeniably, the boring allure of a regular life- one where you do your routine tasks inside a room drinking overpriced lattes, only to feel some sort of accomplishement. Convincing not only you, but every one of the unsuspecting people around you that- you have your shit together. You live a good, productive life.

Eyes darting to the bright screen set place in front of you, a long article about the importance of classic literature bores you to sleep,

Lids falling shut almost entirely- fleetingly escaping the horror or falling head first to the wooden table, another glance is spared to the boy in the jean jacket,

His delicate hands wrapped around the tall glass, filled half way with the same caramel iced latte he always had, sitting besides his propped up laptop, dew wettening the space beneath with the passing of unforgiving time.

You spare a brief thought to him, the question of this normal, average looking person written across your mind, begging to be seen, to no longer be talked up to being soley out of boredom, to escape the unescapable dread that lies within the reason you are even here, to work, to focus.

Only that he is far from average or normal. His beautiful chocolate locs fall effortlessly on the sides of his face, conturing the sharp lines of his face with gentleness. Brown, big eyes that remind you of a baby deer linger on the screen, sometimes looking outside the window next to him, but never to you

Truth be told, you didn't enjoy this shop. After having spend three consecutive days trying to like their cold brews, you noticed how loud the atmosphere is, cars rushing by on the main street, corporate employees on zoom calls that the barista noticeably rolls her eyes at,

Nonetheless, your feet take you down the street to meet your demise inside the cafe every time a call for long working hours is knocking at your door, wondering if maybe this time, he'd be sitting somewhere else, maybe this time he's spare you a split second of his pretty eyes

Jeon jungkook sighs, placing his forhead inside of his palm.

The young artist has once again met a dead end, researching galleries to supply with his sketches, pitching magazines to feature some of his work, the colors of his imagination brighter than any one he reachers to draw with, a dream so far- so unrealistic and unreasonable

He wishes to be seen, dreams to be looked at.

Although having been looked at by you for what adds up to three weeks now, Jungkook is, as any other person inside of this room, unsuspecting. Bored. Busy

Never noticing how you divert your attention to him when he sighs, thus never correctly timing when to look up, when to make your eyes collide in a brief manner, a second, one smile

Mentally, he has given up to do so. Beneath the surface of this mind, deep within the confines of his heart, he still wishes.

unrealistic, unreasonable, he would never be able to catch your glimpses.

As a person of solitude that seeks the beauty of human connection through art, his peers have never been more than that, his love has never felt like desire, eagerly growing a hunger- a primal need to look for that raw, irrational craving of someone elses company, analyzing the mind of a person who put their feelings to a canvas rather than conversing with them

Jungkook wanted to simply find what he was looking for in what he always knew to love, what has always loved him back, much more than the human experience ever granted him

The ice inside his venti glass had melted, evidence of unforgiving time coating the table in a little pool of water, he hadn't felt it passing- only being ripped out of the intimaticy inside his head when a small ring fills up his ears,

one he had trained to look out for, hoping to see your soft features and a way larger than necessary bag hanging from your shoulder,

it wasn't you who entered, he knew, you'd been sitting there for the past hour and a half, unsuspecting of his baseless imagination

It was you, who had gathered her things and left only the silhouette of your back to him, leaving through the door with a heavy heart that wonders if maybe next time, he'd look up,

You who entered to get everything done only to leave with an unfinished assignment and a surpressed craving for what looks to be an ordinary boy,

The boy in the jean jacket smiles a weak smile to himself, mumbling the words 'maybe next time' under his breath, almost involuntary it slips our from his lips, desperate to push it back down, down there where he covinced himself it had gone,

you only catch his soft smile, engraved inside your memory,

because this time, you don't turn the street up left to your apartment,

this time you walk right, passing the large window decorated with the boy in the jean jacket,

the time forgives you once- granting you a moment that seems to stop everything, seems to slow down your world and increase your heartbeat,

Because this time, he looks out the window as always, and as always, you look to him,

only that this time, he sees you looking, and you see his deer eyes land on yours,

a split second, a brief encouter, a tiny, polite smile, until time returns, the bustling of your ordinary life engulfing you with a hasty hug inside the big city, and you walk past the window,

maybe next time

[jullbnt]

I don't know if this is too simple for a request, but how about Twilight Princess Link as a child with Ocarina of Time Link acting as a father figure next to him? (Feel free to reject this though if you have too much on your plate!!)

Oh my heart 🥺

I've wanted to draw baby Twilight for a while so this is perfect!! I don't know if you had something that soft in mind but here it is :)

And here’s another quick sketch of the Hero of Time passing on his most sacred knowledge of magic beans 😆

(Idk I thought it was a cute idea? Maybe I’ll rework it later)

I sprained my ankle yesterday and am in quite a bit of pain right now so this felt comforting to draw (and now I need more Time being a dad)

The good side of things is that I'm on medical leave for the week so I'll have plenty of time to work on your requests 😁

———————

I won’t accept more requests at the moment! This is a request I received for my 500 followers celebration and I still have a lot to do :)

Answered art requests

[a-killer-obsession]

Whoops, you got hit by a bus, and now you're in the world of One Piece. But not everything is quite as you remember it...

General Tags: afab reader, she/her reader pronouns, isekai, monsterfucker reader, vampire!kid, werewolf!killer, wyrm!heat, minotaur!wire, everyone has a human form, smut heavy, unhealthy relationships, dubious consent, serious violence, spoilers for Wano arc, starts pre-timeskip. There will be a lot of more intense kinks, please check AO3 for all current tags.

Chapter 10 - Terms and Conditions

Now that you're part of the crew, it's time to set some ground rules.

WC: 4k

Masterlist | AO3 | Chapter 1

You sat sleepily in Heat's lap, well, not his lap really, more like the middle of his tail. It was coiled in a tight spiral, your rump sat firmly atop it, your back pressed against his warm chest and his warm arms around your center. His naturally hot body temperature soothed the aches you still had from yesterday, he was taking such good care of you, knowing how worn out you were from taking most of the crew. He graciously hadn't attempted to mount you, but he hovered close by, which was welcomed given his sweet doting and care you were very much in need of. Your joints ached from the positions you'd been in for such a long period of time and your pussy was raw and aching. You didn't speak more than needed and Killer had provided soft foods, knowing your jaw was stiff from all the pussy eating and cock sucking you'd done. You were happy though. You felt content, and finally safe and secure in your position here. Well, as safe as you could be, now that you were officially a pirate.

“Now then Mouse,” Kid grinned, “let's make things official, aye? We believe ya story now, or at least we're trying our best to. It's still hard to accept yer from another universe. But you've at least proven your usefulness to us, so ya can stay on the crew. How bout it, Mouse? Ya wanna join my crew?”

“Yes captain,” you smiled sleepily, “will my job here be as your… bed warmer?”

“Aye, you'll be our ship whore,” Kid smirked, “only for the four of us here though, unless we decide to give someone a night with ya as a reward. You good with that?”

“Yes captain, as long as my boundaries are respected,” you stated.

“Of course lass,” Kid replied, “Wire will draw up a contract for ya later. He's the most knowledgeable here, he'll make sure your boundaries are laid out for us. Everyone we let have you will be made clear of your conditions. You're still up for the four of us free using you, aye? It was your original offer. I did let you live, after all.”

“Within limits, yeah,” you responded, trying to not let your lust-addled brain distract you from an important conversation. Being free used by four big, strong, attractive, well endowed men? Ohhhh what a horror, the worst thing you could imagine. “I like what we've got going on. Will I be given a share of the loot like the others?”

“Of course lass,” Kid chuffed, “if anything you'll be paid better. You'll be saving us a great deal of money by servicing us instead of having to spend money on island whores. We'll give you your own room, for convenience. Everyone else shares but the four of us, but I'm not sure anyone is keen on losing sleep whenever we have need of ya. There's a lounge in the castle we barely use, we'll have it cleared out for ya. We're on our way back to Sabaody as we speak, you can go to the shops and get whatever you need to get set up once we dock. We'll back pay you for your time since ya started servicing us.”

“Thank you captain,” you replied gratefully. You didn't expect him to pay you for your time as a prisoner. “That's generous of you. I won't let you down.”

“You'll probably find your bed doesn't get much use, unless you're in need of a break,” Kid continued with a chuckle, “but it'll give you somewhere to keep your shit anyway.

“Speaking of resting,” you interjected, “I had a bit of an idea. In terms of the free-using. I was wondering if you'd make me a more long term wearable collar, something that won't irritate my skin, thin perhaps. With a tag that has your jolly roger. I thought maybe we could use it as a signal, if I'm not wearing the collar then I'm in need of rest.”

“EXCELLENT IDEA!” Kid roared, spooking you a little as he thumped his fist against the table, “I'll make ya a collar that'll make everyone jealous of ya!”

“Thank you, captain,” you smiled, nuzzling sleepily against Heat's bicep.

“Tired, Mouse?” Kid smirked.

“Mmm,” you mumbled, “I feel like I'm hungover from yesterday. Drunk on dick I guess. And pussy.”

Killer and Wire snorted while Kid made a boisterous laugh. “Before you fall asleep,” Killer jumped in, “is there anything we need to know for the immediate future?”

“Mmm,” you mumbled, trying to sit upright, to which Heat helped you, nuzzling his face against your back, “you need to get the ship coated before Ace's execution, cos after that the only coater I know will be busy.”

“Where do we find him?” Wire asked.

“You're all familiar with the coater already, in fact you met him the other day,” you alluded, “Silvers Rayleigh, he can coat the ship. You'll find him, or at least his wife, Shakky, in grove thirteen at Shakky's Rip-Off Bar. You unintentionally helped his friend rescue that mermaid by helping the Straw Hats escape, so he should be amenable to coating the ship.”

“He's the coater?” Kid exclaimed, “the fuck is the ‘Dark King’ doing coating ships?”

“Paying for his alcoholism, mostly,” you yawned, making the others snort laughs.

“Alright then Sleeping Beauty,” Kid laughed, before his smile fell to a more serious expression, “we don't have to worry about this whole execution shit, right?”

“There'll be a war, but your crew won't be involved,” you replied, “it'll all happen over at the marine base. You'll just see it on a screen on Sabaody.”

“Alright then,” Kid huffed, pleased and relieved with your answer. It was no secret that there was tension in the air regarding the execution and whether returning to Sabaody was even safe tight now. There were reports that Whitebeard was on the move to save Ace, and it made Kid uneasy, but he trusted your prediction, you hadn't let him down thus far. “Go get some rest then princess, we promise we'll behave till you're up to it. I'll have that collar for ya before your pussy is ready to get destroyed again.”

Kid winked as he stood and grabbed a boob as he passed by, making you squeal and slap his hand playfully as the captain chuckled. You started to stand as well, but Heat swung you onto his back to carry you, making you giggle as you grabbed his horns for support. “Giddy up!” You laughed. He pretended to buck you, which only made you giggle more, Killer shaking his head with a grin under his mask as Heat carried you out. He and Heat were in high spirits, overly relieved and happy that your story had been proven true and you got to stay. You'd promised Heat to do some sunbathing with him on top of the dinosaur skull while the sun was out, it was a good excuse for a nap and a cuddle really.

You hopped off Heat's back as he made it up, he was surprisingly fast and agile in this form. It'd made you curious as to why he didn't use this form more, to which he had told you that it ‘wasn't polite’ to go around in that form, whatever that meant. Maybe it was like how zoan fruit users usually stayed in their human form? Heat laid down first, making a pleased grunt as his head rested on the pillow he'd chucked up here earlier, his long tail stretching along the skull like an arrow pointed at the distant Sabaody that hovered on the horizon.

“I'm really glad you get to stay,” Heat hummed as you got comfy next to him, resting your head on his chest, tucked into the crook of his armpit.

“Yeah, me too,” you murmured back with a big yawn. Heat gave you a soft smile and a little squeeze before the yawn caught him too.

“Alright, ready to get started?” Wire asked, tapping the tip of the feathered pen against the page in front of him, “I've made a list of kinks the crew like to indulge in. You just let me know which ones you're comfortable with. Ready?”

“Yup!” You smiled back sweetly, leaning forward and resting your face in your palm, your elbow against the table. It was just you and Wire in the navigation room, he didn't want you to have the pressure of the others watching you and potentially pressuring you into things you weren't comfortable with.

“First item - free use for the four commanders, under the circumstances that your collar is on. That much I know you're good with, but what about outside of that?” He asked.

“A big maybe,” you replied, “I'm a regular woman without the collar. If they can seduce me, sure. But I reserve the right to deny them without consequence.”

“Okay, seems reasonable,” he replied, the pen making scratching noises as he jotted it down, “I have a list of things you've already participated in, so I'll just run through them quickly so you can confirm them for the contract. Touching of all body parts, vaginal fingering, vaginal penetration, cunnilingus, blow jobs, deep throating, face fucking, use of strap on, cum on body including face and genitals and inclusive of female cum, cum in mouth, creampies. Threesome, degradation, praise, bathing together, face riding, both giving and receiving, those are the basics, yes to all of the above?”

“Can we make an amendment for no cum near my eyes?” You asked him, “otherwise yes to everything else.”

“No cum near eyes, got it,” he wrote on the page, “the next set is things you've done that are on the more intense side. Gangbang, bukkake, self-wetting, humiliation, somnophilia, exhibitionism, bondage, pet play and master/servant dynamics, both as dominant and submissive. Amenable to all of those?”

“Somnophilia is the sleep one, yeah?” You queried.

“Aye,” Wire confirmed.

“Okay, yeah that's fine,” you confirmed, “but um… I don't want Heat watching me use the toilet anymore. And I'm not eating out of a bowl or shitting in a litterbox.”

“Noted,” Wire replied, scribbling that down, “you were fine with the self-wetting though? What about other watersports?”

“I've never tried but, I'm not not curious,” you replied unsurely, “the self-wetting was… enlightening.”

“I'll put it down as a maybe, for future experimentation. You can change your mind later if you want, same goes for anything on this list,” Wire assured you, “now for the requests. Anal fingering, mouth to ass, anal sex. Receiving and giving. Thoughts?”

“Yeah, those are fine. I've done a few on the giving end as well, but I guess that person wanted to keep it to himself,” you noted, “just uh… only receiving the whole way with proper lubrication. No spit as lube bullshit unless it's only fingers.”

“Got it,” Wire confirmed, “next up, use of toys such as dildos and vibrators, use of nipple clamps, impact play, with hands and equipment. Bondage such as shibari, cuffs, bed, wall and furniture mounted restraints. Sensory deprivation. Tickling. Forced orgasms. Edging. Thoughts?”

“No to the tickling, limited to impact play. I'm not a fan of pain,” you explained, “light smacking is fine, but you can cross off anything too painful, otherwise yes to everything else.”

“I'll cross off knife play and hook suspension,” Wire said as his pen ran a line through several items, “next set. Foot play, non-con roleplay, softcore roleplay such as maid, fisting, sex under the influence of alcohol and drugs, use of purpose built furniture such as breeding benches, double penetration, of separate holes and of multiple cocks in one hole.” Wire looked at you expectantly, his pen paused over the page.

“Uhh, no to fisting,” you ran through the list in your head trying to make sure you remembered everything, “um… yes to one in the ass, one in the cunt. Maybe to two in my cunt, I've never tried. Definitely no to two in my ass.”

“I think you could manage two in one,” Wire smirked, “as long as I wasn't one of them. You took me so well.”

“Mmm, I certainly want to try,” you hummed, “quit reminding me of your big beefy cock or I won't be able to concentrate.”

“We're almost done,” Wire snorted and shook his head, “anything else not on this contract, we'll ask first. You'll be paid the same split as Heat and I get. You'll use the colour system for safe words regardless of if your collar is on or not. Green when prompted to go ahead, orange if something needs to change or you need a break, red if you need to stop. No consequences will come from using the safe words so please don't be afraid to use them. By signing this you agree to remain up to date with your birth control unless an explicit agreement is made to impregnate you, you may expect that from Heat or Killer, Kid and I aren't the type to want babies. If an accident happens, Kid promises not to kick you off the ship. The rest of the crew will keep their hands off you unless you give them permission, otherwise a maximum of once a week we may choose to allow them a night with you as a reward. You won't allow anyone outside of this ship to touch you without permission from your captain. You will remain on this crew unless relieved of your contract by the captain. You'll also be given regular STI screening, as the four of us do, and all other crewmates will be required to use protection with you. Do you agree to all these terms?”

“Sounds good to me,” you hummed, openly ogling Wire's muscular torso, “you wanna fuck?”

“Sign here first,” he shuffled the page over to you and you quickly signed it, biting your lip as he stood and rounded the table. He loomed over you from behind your chair, running his hand up your neck until his hand was sweeping your chin up, forcing you to look at him. You pushed aside the page with its drying ink and sat on the edge of the table, spreading your legs for Wire to slot between them.

“What happened to having a sore cunt?” Wire mused, running his thumb over your lower lip, pressing against the soft flesh. He was all for fucking you, he'd been thinking a lot about your tight cunt and wanted to take his time with you. He worried though that you were ignoring your limits.

“Well you see there's this thing called ‘remembering how fucking big and hot your cock is’ and unfortunately I'm no good at disagreeing with my pussy, she wants what she wants,” you purred back up at him, peeking out your tongue to lick his digit before taking it in your mouth, humming as you sucked his thumb.

“You're so cute when you're being submissive,” Wire grinned, replacing his thumb with his pointer and middle finger and gagging you with them, “I have been wanting to get a taste of that pretty cunt of yours. No collar though,” he hummed, running his finger down your neck and tracing a trail of saliva over where the collar would sit, “so I have to ask, can I taste you, princess?”

“Please do,” you huffed, pulling your legs up so your feet rested on the table, showing off your flexibility as you sat back. You'd never properly redressed after waking up, still just wearing one of Heat's old shirts, large enough to fit as a baggy dress on you, your pussy exposed and inviting underneath. You tugged on the hem of the shirt to reveal yourself to Wire, who hummed appreciatively as he ran his thumb between your folds.

“Already wet for me,” Wire cooed as he knelt, “such a good girl.”

He kissed your thighs softly, making you giggle, before his teeth sunk into the soft flesh and the giggle turned to a moan. He nipped you a few more times before his tongue ran a fat stripe up your cunt, and your hand pushed away his hood to tug at his short hair. His tongue lapped against your pussy as he pulled your legs to rest over his shoulders, giving the occasional suck of your bud that made you whine. He was clearly enjoying himself as well, grunting against your cunt as his tongue bullied its way inside you, licking at your walls while his hand looped over your thigh to thumb your clit. You could feel his pointed sideburns against your thighs as he ate you out, his thumb making small, firm circles on your bud as his thick tongue wiggled inside you.

“Oh fuck that's good,” you moaned, laying back against the table, “just like that, fuck.”

His other hand weaselled up under his chin, the end of his middle finger toying with your asshole and spreading the slick and spit that had rolled down around the ring before sinking in. There was a spark of electricity in your clit as his finger pushed inside your ass, not quite finger fucking you, just toying with your hole for extra stimulation. It made that coil in your stomach pull tight, your back arching off the table as you fisted his hair, holding him tight against you. You could feel the coy grin he made against your cunt, and you made the mistake of looking down, immediately catching his eyes that were watching you carefully from between your legs. Those fucking eyes, they always did something to you, and you threw back your head with a groan, cumming on his tongue, his finger forced out of your ass by the contractions your orgasm made.

He gave you a few more greedy licks that made you shiver before he stood, making a show out of unfastening his pants and laying his thick erection against your stomach as his shorts and briefs pooled at his ankles. He rut his cock between your folds, getting his shaft coated in slick and spit and rubbing against your over-stimulated clit. “You're so pretty like this, blissed out with my cock laying against you,” he noted, “pull your shirt up, I wanna see your tits.”

You obediently did as he asked in your post orgasm daze, squishing and kneading your tits for his enjoyment. He groaned as you pulled at your own nipples, your hips rolling to grind against his shaft on their own accord. “You want it bad, huh? Cute little bunny, horny little thing,” Wire purred, putting more force into the rutting. He took himself in his hand and pressed the head of his cock against your entrance, pushing only the tip in and stretching you out. That on its own was enough to make you whine and try to shift to take more of him. “So greedy, trying to get more already. I'm gonna have fun taking my time with you,” he teased, pulling his tip out and sinking it back in over and over, making you whine at the emptiness each time he removed himself.

“Please!” You begged, “want it, want it so bad.”

“Yeah? You want this?” He asked, suddenly sinking himself in, to what he knew was your limit, before entirely leaving you empty again, his cock rubbing against your clit. “Use your words baby.”

“Want- want your fat cock,” you whimpered, “want it splitting me open. Wanna feel you filling me, please.”

“Such a good girl,” Wire cooed, bullying his cock back inside you, but not moving any further. You only said you wanted it inside you, you never said anything about moving. Wire was a master of restraint, any of the others would have already been fucking your brains out by now, while he enjoyed watching you writhe against the table as he warmed his cock. “That feel good, baby? You like keeping my cock nice and warm?”

“Y-yes,” you whined, “feels so full, hnng. Fuck me Wire, please, please please please.”

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” he toyed, before pulling out most of the way and slamming back in, prompting a scream from you at the sudden heavy thrust. He did it over and over, pulling out slowly, then pushing in hard and fast, driving you insane as you got enough stimulation to feel incredible but never enough to sustain the building orgasm, and you got the feeling that was purposeful. Wire was only doing exactly as you asked, he was testing you, teasing you to see how far you would go to beg for it. You reached between your legs to rub your clit, but he quickly grabbed your wrists and folded them against your chest, pinning you down.

“Please,” you begged, “more, please, wanna cum on your cock so bad.”

“How bad do you want it?” Wire teased, “what are you gonna give me in return?”

“Anything!” You cried, “please, anything, please fuck me harder!”

“You're gonna let me frost your face, and you're gonna wear it for the rest of the day,” Wire growled, “you're not washing it off till bedtime. Everyone's gonna see what a little slut you are.”

“Yes! Yes!” You whined, trying and failing to fight his hold to try and fuck yourself with his cock, “please, please, please.”

“Good girl,” Wire praised, before finally committing to a hard and fast pace that had you shrieking and seeing stars. Your pussy made obscene squelches as he fucked it, Wire making grunts and tightening his grip on your arms as he used you like a cock sleeve, loving the way your pussy was already fluttering around him, so desperate to cum, choking his cock like it was desperate for him to breed you. “You gonna squirt for me, bunny? Gonna make a mess?”

“Y-yes,” you moaned, unable to escape his hold as he started to overstimulate you, making you dizzy as you felt your orgasm rushing at you. “C-cumming!” You shouted before your thighs clamped around him and shook hard, cum dripping off the side of the table and on to the rug below, some of it drenching his abdomen. His cock never stopped pumping you, the wet sounds now increased tenfold with the added lubrication while you squealed and writhed before finally stilling with a heavy pant.

“Good whore,” Wire purred, “such a good girl.” You barely heard what he was saying, practically lifeless against the table, all you could do was whimper pathetically. Wire got close to his own peak and pulled out, climbing onto the table and straddling your chest. He pumped his cock over you, pleased by the half-lidded puppy dog eyes you were giving him, too weak and fucked out to do more than lick the end of his cock or feebly suck on the tip when he pushed it between your lips. “Close your eyes sweetheart,” he cooed. No sooner had you closed them did he grunt, and you heard his palm hit the table next to your face for support as the first hot spurts of cum hit your face, aimed mostly for your lips and cheek, some of it getting in your hair. It was a large load, and you could already feel it start to drip as he panted, rolling off you to lay on the table beside you, his legs hanging over the edge while yours were folded up, feet against the edge, knees together and still shaking.

“What do you say?” He teased.

“Th-thank you,” you whined.

“Good girl,” he huffed, before surprising you with his softness as he linked his hand with yours, “you're gonna do well here, and we're gonna take good care of you.”

“Mmm,” you replied sleepily, resting your eyes for a moment and enjoying his warm hand encompassing yours. Later you would go to dinner with Wire's cum still coating your face, sitting in his lap so it was clear to everyone who's cum it was. Everyone told you how pretty you looked, and promised they'd paint you too soon.

[Next Chapter] - coming soon

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[babyyhoneyyyyy]

✩ 🔦 𝓥𝓲𝓰𝓲𝓵𝓪𝓷𝓬𝓮🍸 ༘⋆ - One Shot [h.s]

Storyline: The sole goal that Harry pursues in his existence is to secure his position as the bodyguard of the prime minister's daughter. However, he faces a singular challenge that prevents him from achieving it: his unavoidable attraction to the rebellious and charismatic young lady he is supposed to protect. Word count: 4k+ Smut: 🔞

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

"Second room is secured. I repeat. Second room is secured."

The sound of the announcement echoed in his ear, his concentration fading as he gazed out at the pool from one of the balconies.

"First floor is also secured." A deeper voice from his next companion echoed.

The summer breeze brushed against his face, causing him to squint, yet his gaze remained fixed on the pool.

"Styles. Need confirmation on the main courtyard." His surname sounded foreign through the earpiece, blurring as the sound of laughter reached his ears, sweet and soft.

"Repeat, confirmation on the main courtyard, Styles." His companion's attempt to elicit a response continued to be ignored, whether by his senses or his mind. His pupils dilated and his lips parted as he watched the strawberry drink being absorbed through the thin straw. His throat felt drier than usual, and he had to close his eyes as he straightened up. He couldn't afford to be distracted any longer.

"Styles?"

He breathed in the fresh air as his eyes snapped open. His fingers brushed the small button on his earpiece as he turned away, leaving behind the hallway, the strawberry drink, and the young woman who had decided it was a good idea to remove the top of her bikini just as she had seen the man enter through the balcony.

"Main courtyard secured." He confirmed as he continued on his way in the opposite direction, ignoring the whisper in his mind urging him to turn back. But the prime minister awaited him downstairs, ready to assign the month's tasks due to his unexpected trip.

A business trip to Paris, lasting at least a week, and one in which he definitely couldn't take his daughter. The instruction was clear: "Don't lose sight of her", prompting everyone to nod before he climbed into the van with the other half of the team.

Harry scanned the faces of those present, noting the indifferent expressions of some friends and the friendly one from Carrie, his closest companion. Carrie had been the first to greet him upon arrival and, by chance, had introduced him to Audrey Coldwell.

He remembered that moment as if it were yesterday, perhaps because he had replayed it countless times in his mind since that night.

Audrey had been dining—or her version of it, with wine and cheese—sitting at the far end of the table. The first thing Harry noticed was her hair, cascading curls down her back. A throat-clearing from his companion wasn't enough to gain the young woman's attention, prompting Carrie to maintain her gaze on her before both approached.

Warm lighting filled the grand dining hall, where an excessively long wooden table dominated the room. As he approached, he began to notice the small details: the chandelier in the room's center, the shiny floor reflecting his image, the abundance of untouched food served in golden dishes, and the classic style of the house that contrasted completely with his own, which was more modern and not at all luxurious. Still, his house had been enough for him at the time, though he had to sell it after getting that job, which was one of the reasons that forced him to stay in that position.

That's precisely what forced him to draw a small smile when he found himself next to the young woman, whose face he still hadn't seen well because of the curls that fell over her face. He could only see her outfit, which consisted of a white silk nightgown over black fabric, which Harry supposed was her usual pajamas.

"Who's this?"

The question brought him sharply back to reality, filling him with discomfort. Harry blinked, confused, and his eyebrows furrowed slightly before Carrie gave him a reassuring look, then addressing the young woman looking for an answer.

"His name is Harry Styles, Miss Coldwell. He will be joining our team starting today."

Then, for the first time, Audrey's eyes met his. A contrast between deep chocolate brown and emerald green, yet despite that, the discomfort was evident in her intense gaze. Harry didn't fully understand Audrey's attitude, although his mind filled with possible explanations, like the typical arrogant behavior of people from her social class. However, he tried not to show his discomfort and growing displeasure, preferring to keep his gaze ahead rather than look at her, maintaining his expressionless face. Seconds later, it was the young woman who broke the silence.

"Did they change Alex for him?"

Harry decided not to inquire further about the matter after he and Carrie left the room once Audrey's attention turned back to the wine. Carrie also chose to remain silent, but both understood what it meant.

The answer was yes, and Harry could only speculate about the reason for 'Alex's dismissal. However, he was sure of one thing: if something similar happened to him, his fate would be humiliation and immediate replacement.

And that was something Harry was not willing to risk.

But for Audrey, the situation wasn't a risk but an adrenaline rush; a reality that Harry would discover the next morning, after their boss's departure.

The day started early at seven in the morning, but long before his alarm sounded, he heard the squeak of the door. A cry echoed down the hallway: "She's gone!" 

Still with heavy eyes, he got out of bed. Suddenly, his own door swung open without warning, revealing Carrie in what Harry supposed was her usual pajamas, consisting of sweatpants and a loose polo; however, and more disturbingly, was the strange expression on her familiar face. Realization hit him immediately, as the commotion began to spread through the hallway.

She's gone.

Audrey had left.

The rest of the day had been extremely distressing. The team scattered completely, exploring every place that seemed a plausible option for each of them. From yoga classes to university courses, passing through extracurricular activities, their favorite spots, external places like parks and streets, and even the different rooms of the house, but they found no trace of Coldwell.

And then, was there any place he hadn't considered at all?

Traffic forced him to stop in front of the church, prompting him to sigh with irony. Perhaps with a prayer, he could find her before his father found out, risking his professional career. He briefly closed his eyes as he took a deep breath, opening them again at the honking of the car behind him, urging him to move. However, his attention first focused on a line of nuns crossing the pedestrian crossing with notable patience, even after the traffic light turned green.

Harry observed their dark habits and the veils covering their heads, some tall, others short, but his gaze stopped at one in particular, notably younger. Unable to help himself, his eyes traveled her figure from head to toe.

A nun in designer shoes.

Unbelievable, yet true.

He reflected on the contemporaneity of the environment he was in, considering how common it was to associate the concept of a petite woman, with a face marked by years and the serene air of a nun. He had his aunt as an example, who had embraced religious life, which, she believed, had contributed to her own personal development. He deeply respected her and had contemplated the idea of following a similar path, and now, facing the possibility of being fired from his job, he found himself contemplating that option again. Perhaps all this time his true roots were destined for religious life. He imagined himself wearing a clerical suit with black pants, along with the alb; he even pictured himself carrying his own cross, the same one hanging around his neck at that moment.

The noise of the car behind him resonated loudly, catching his attention as he watched it move forward, the driver visibly angry and hurling insults.

Harry turned his gaze back to the church, watching the nuns' habits disappear behind a distant door.

He moved his hand to the handbrake, releasing it to press the accelerator.

Designer shoes.

Instead of the accelerator, he pressed the brake.

The elegant designer shoes no longer seemed extravagant in his mind when he remembered seeing that exact model and how he recognized them.

It was at a party in the Coldwell garden, days after he had started working there. Audrey Coldwell herself had worn those shoes, and he swore they had been custom-made for her then.

The roar of car horns behind him had never been as deafening as when he made a U-turn, regardless of the risk of hitting another vehicle, to quickly park in front of the church. He hastily locked the car and ran through the streets.

Once inside, he felt completely out of place. The atmosphere of the mass immediately intimidated him, and the looks he drew when he interrupted seemed to judge him severely. He murmured an empty apology, his heart racing and his eyes anxiously searching every corner of the church.

His eyes wandered between his wrist, the clock, and the scene before him. Finally, he identified the door through which he had seen the last nun enter. However, as he tried to move forward, an institution guard stopped him, with strict orders to allow access only to the nuns. An ironic smile crossed his mind.

If Audrey could be a nun, then he could consider being a father.

Despite his attempts to persuade the guard, he was unsuccessful. Finally, he was forced to resort to his only option: creating a distraction for the guard and finding an alternative way in. As soon as the guard looked away for a moment, he slipped inside.

A garden unfolded around him, his feet running on the grass, and the dress shoes began to discomfort him.

He walked with lighter steps as the surroundings around him seemed to empty out, only a few figures dressed in habits that stood out from his stature continued their course, seemingly unaware of what was going through his mind. His lips parted as he ran his hand through his hair, carefully adjusting it as some curls began to bother him on his forehead. Then, his hand slid toward the start of his tie, pulling slightly to loosen it. He felt the oppression increasing until, like a sign from fate, his senses sharpened to hear the sound of wood hitting something like that.

They were heels.

His attention immediately shifted back, where he recognized some of the nuns he had seen before. Beyond them, he saw the shoes he had been looking for. Without receiving any orders, his feet resumed their path, but nothing seemed to make her feel more distant. With effort, his throat was forced to act, leaving aside the little shame that remained to finally speak aloud the name that had been echoing in his mind, finally catching her attention.

Audrey's eyes widened in surprise, but just when Harry thought that would be his exit, the corners of Audrey's lips curved into a subtle smile, completely transforming her expression. With her hands together and a small bow, she caused the expression on Harry's face to change from satisfaction to anger.

Without wasting time, Audrey murmured an "amen" as she turned to head to another room.

Harry's eyes followed her; she could feel it on her back, his gaze gripping tightly and penetrating her very being. Perhaps that's why she had chosen the church as her hiding place and not somewhere else.

Purification was what she had in mind.

Her footsteps echoed in the deserted halls, the stillness marked by the time of day. Most of the nuns were at the public mass being held at that moment.

Although the church wasn't her usual place, she had visited enough to know the corners that nuns typically didn't access until a certain time, especially during mass.

It was precisely in that same room where she had found her outfit for the day: the custodian's area, fortunately vacant during the weekend.

Finally, she reached the door. As she attempted to close it behind her, a hand forcefully landed on the wood, stopping it and entering the space beside her.

"What are you doing?"

The rough tone in Harry's hoarse voice startled her suddenly, aware of her recent predicament as they both crowded into the cramped space near the shelf filled with cleaning products.

"Do you realize how many people are looking for you right now?" His body pressed against hers, the proximity accentuated by the annoyed expression on his face. "You've got everyone scouring every corner of the city."

Audrey smiled wider as she watched Harry's cheeks turn rosier, spreading across his face as he stared at her intensely. She wondered if he noticed his blush, if it was due to his own discomfort or if, like her, he was feeling the heat rise in that confined space.

"Let's go," he declared firmly, taking her arm, which she immediately withdrew.

"Or what?" Her voice barely whispered but was audible enough for both. Her brown eyes seized the silence to examine the face so close to hers. With a dark look towards her, furrowed brow, lips slightly parted seeking air as his breath became uneven.

It was the same expression Audrey had dreamed of before running away from home.

"Or I'll tell your father."

The threat seemed amusing to her.

"Tell him," she replied. "Then he'll realize how inefficient you are at doing your job."

The cold treatment made Harry roll his eyes in exasperation. He was already used to Audrey's bouts of arrogance, but this time, his patience wasn't what it had been on previous occasions.

"I'll see what I do."

"I don't think it's appropriate for you to talk to me like that," she replied.

"And how do you expect me to talk to you when you've got me chasing you through a fucking church?"

Audrey slightly arched her eyebrows at his exasperated response, making Harry avoid her gaze. Even though he could feel her eyes fixed on him.

He desperately needed to take a breath, and he took a few seconds to do so, but when he finally commanded his feet to move to leave, whether with her or without her, it seemed as though his senses had somehow disconnected.

His duty forced him to return to her side, no matter what.

But she made it so hard.

"Even more inappropriate," she suddenly declared, breaking the silence that had filled the place. "Cursing in a church." Her heel softly echoed on the polished floor as she stepped forward, feeling the brush of Harry's nose against her face. "What other inappropriate things do you plan to do here, Harry?"

Her name resonated in a whisper that tormented him, swirling in his mind like a treacherous melody. He didn't know how else to feel, mixing the rapid beating of his heart from the growing adrenaline, the desperation, and, worse, the temptation.

He closed his eyes for a moment, wishing to see only darkness, but reality hit him as his other senses awakened, and Audrey's sweet perfume permeated his being.

He opened his eyes.

"Take that off so we can leave," he murmured again, and to his surprise, the young woman nodded.

"As you wish."

Audrey could see the frown on Harry's face before her hands lowered her habit. The silk slipped off her shoulders and body with a smooth motion, revealing the black babydoll and matching set she wore underneath. The noticeable change in Harry's breathing brought a smile to her face. She could feel his breath, with a hint of mint, that caught her attention. Audrey glanced down for a moment, just long enough to pick up the uniform that had fallen to the floor, then lifted her head to meet the green eyes that were watching her.

Seconds passed with unsettling slowness as she rose. Audrey could perceive every detail of his face accentuated by the dim light, with a curl falling over his forehead, his chest rising and falling with measured breaths. In that moment, Audrey wondered if he was breathing properly.

"Do you do this often?" she heard him ask when he was facing her again. She tilted her head to one side, pretending not to understand. "Seducing your bodyguards."

The answer was already reflected on Audrey's face when her eyes sparkled as she responded.

"Only the ones I find interesting."

Harry couldn't pinpoint the exact moment his heart began to pound, but with that response, he couldn't help but imagine the same situation with someone else, causing his steady breathing to falter.

"Now I understand why Alex found it so hard to keep his job."

The confusion on her face vanished instantly when she felt the push of Harry's body against hers, finally perceiving him above her, though unable to yet savor the mint taste of his mouth. Harry chose another route, bringing his lips to her neck, allowing his saliva to taste the sweet perfume, which in his mouth turned bitter, but this lacked importance when Audrey's soft moans echoed directly in his ear.

Desperation and compassion manifested in his hands as he kept her in contact with his skin, his fingers gently gripping her hips and raising her leg to bring her even closer to him. The friction of her underwear against his pants was starting to become uncomfortable, and as his tongue slid down her neck, the urgency to calm the throbbing in her most intimate area intensified. To her surprise, Harry seemed to perceive it immediately, pulling back slightly to look at her.

Audrey's eyes, filled with pleading, seized his face. For a moment, she believed their tongues would finally intertwine; but soon she realized her mistake as she watched Harry kneel. Now, she was leaning against the wall and one of the cleaning shelves, while Harry, from the ground, pressed his face against her skin.

The sound of her own breathing filled her ears as Harry's fingers moved over her panties with agonizing slowness. She felt his lips traveling over her skin, unsure if they were trying to silence her or provoke her to speak more. His tongue explored forbidden corners, while his fingers maintained a continuous game of approaching and retreating.

Then, her hand descended to grab his hair once more, urging him to act, only for him to react faster and hold her back. Instead of pushing her away as Audrey had thought, Harry took her hand, guiding her fingers over his, and with a swift motion, he pulled her panties aside, exposing her intimacy.

Forcefully, her fingers clung to the fabric as Harry's touch focused on the exact spot where she needed it most. Audrey felt his breath on her, but not with the intensity she desired, leading her to look at him with narrowed eyes for a brief moment. He looked up with a half-smile.

He knew exactly what he was doing.

"You're so wet," Harry murmured, letting his words seep into Aubrey's senses. "Is it for me?"

She quickly nodded, exhaling a deep sigh.

"Words." Harry ordered in a rough voice, sending a shiver down Aubrey's spine. Swallowing with difficulty, she responded, "Only for you."

It was then that Aubrey noticed how the amusement in those green eyes transformed into the itch of his own lust in the blink of an eye.

"I'll make sure it stays that way from now on."

With only a warning that would echo in her mind forever, she felt Harry's tongue on her. A singular suction, a desperate pleasure. His lips pressed against her, his saliva mixing with her own fluids, and she heard him sucking and licking in perfect harmony, making the sound itself fuel her arousal.

She then thought about the possibility of living only from that pleasure, from the delight Harry provided her, from his muffled sounds between her thighs, from how he molded her ass while bringing her clitoris closer to his mouth, and from the way he looked at her from his kneeling position.

She could even live from a photo of him just as he was at that moment. So unreal.

The adrenaline increased as her fingers brushed against anything they could touch while she tried to keep her balance. She stumbled upon more cleaning items and even a small book, whose title she avoided reading so as not to remember the fate that had been imposed on her.

It was a direct ticket to hell, which at that moment was worth it for a small slice of paradise.

As the heat invaded her cheeks, she felt the space around her shrink. Her moans escaped her lips, and in a desperate attempt to contain them, she pressed her own hand against her mouth, biting down hard on her palm, hoping the pain would mitigate her desire, though it only seemed to intensify it.

Suddenly, feeling Harry's fingers joining his tongue inside her, entering with two dry fingers that, once they crossed the barrier, became wet in her essence, a muffled moan escaped her lips, followed by an abrupt silence around them. Harry had stopped.

"N-no, no." Audrey's words barely escaped her mouth as her dry throat burned, and the man kneeling before her locked his green eyes with hers. Audrey swallowed hard.

Harry chose silence over speaking, lowering his gaze. In a movement that escaped Audrey's sight, his free hand slid towards her panties, pulling them down until they fell around her heels. Once Audrey managed to lift each foot to free herself from them, Harry picked them up with his fingers.

"Open."

Harry's harsh voice filled the silence as he brought the panties to Audrey's lips. With that single command, a jolt of electricity coursed through her body, and she obeyed, parting her lips, feeling the lace brush against her tongue and gag her.

Without warning, the fingers reunited inside her, this time three of them, moving swiftly and adjusting to her contours. Harry's tongue swirled around her clit as if he were in a personal competition, and perhaps he was, challenging himself to see how quickly he could bring the woman, who struggled to make no sound in a sacred place, to the highest point of pleasure.

Whether it was the excitement, the adrenaline of being discovered, the sensation of Harry's tongue, or her own skill, Aubrey finally reached that moment, feeling the tension spread to her cheeks, making them burn just like her body. Her eyes squeezed shut, and her grip on the shelf tightened, clinging to it as if her life depended on it.

Her cry of release was trapped in her underwear, wet from the mix of her saliva and parted lips. But as if that wasn't enough, she soon felt a more intense pressure in her mouth when Harry's hand firmly covered her outcry.

Her eyelids finally lifted as her breathing began to stabilize, and when she thought she couldn't take it any longer, she found Harry's gaze fixed on her.

In the dim light of the room, his face emerged clearly, his hair tousled from her fingers that had run through it, with his curls spilling over his forehead, and his lips slightly parted, still wet from the fluids she had left on them.

A sigh escaped her lips without warning. Though she wasn't sure if it was from exhaustion or from the new wave of heat from having that sight right in front of her.

In one last effort to uncover her true desire, Aubrey mustered the courage to move forward and firmly grasp Harry's neck, pressing him against her body once more, feeling the bulge in his pants pressing against her stomach. But before her hands could slide further down, he quickly stopped her.

"There will be another day when you can make it up to me," he murmured, causing her eyebrows to rise, mixing surprise and disappointment, although that feeling quickly faded. Did this mean there would be a next time? Her eyes gleamed in the darkness. "Go to the car."

The command had almost turned into a question. The confidence in Harry's gaze faded before Aubrey left the room, already changed and seemingly more presentable, no longer in the nun outfit and dressed in clothes that truly reflected her personality.

"I'll go to the car," she confirmed as Harry's hand squeezed her wrist. "I have no other church to take refuge in," a crooked smile began to form on her face. Harry swallowed hard. "Or any other janitor's closet to dirty."

Finally, he nodded, his cheeks reddened, which contrasted with the attitude he usually displayed. It was fascinating to observe those small changes in him for her. Every time, it became more intriguing to see him.

"Oh, I almost forgot. About Alex..." Aubrey bit her lips, struggling to hold back a smile that threatened to appear at Harry's immediate reaction. "You would have had more chances with him than I did. Alex is gay."

With those words, she turned. A mischievous expression forming on her face as she saw his green eyes widen.

As she exited the room and re-entered the green space, several men dressed in black suits quickly passed by her. She averted her gaze, avoiding looking at them, just before hearing a new shout behind her.

"Catch him!"

Before she could react, she felt a tug on her arm that forced her to move quickly. Harry's fingers had gripped her again, and once more, adrenaline coursed through her body as they both hurriedly fled from the church.

[lost-in-fiction-like-ur-mom]

Hello lovely I hope this enough for a request but I was wondering if you would write a fic for Hunter x Jedi!Reader around season one. Hunter has the start of a crush on reader but once omega comes into the picture and he sees how good reader is with her he knows he needs to ask her out! Feel free to change whatever, I hope you like the idea!

I Will Protect You

Hunter x Reader

Summary- As a defective Jedi you are reassigned to The Bad Batch. How can you resist Hunter? Especially when he confesses after seeing how good you are with Omega.

A/N- Thank you so much for requesting! I LOVED this idea! I've contemplated doing something similar in the past, so I am so glad you requested this!

Word Count- 1,679

You remember being assigned to Clone Force 99 like it was yesterday. The day you were considered a 'defective' Jedi. While you were skilled in the force and an expert in wielding a lightsaber- you got attached.

In a mission gone wrong, you sacrificed yourself for your Jedi master. She was entirely grateful. Even though you made a full recovery, the Empire was not happy. Claiming you shouldn't have those 'emotional tendencies.'

You understood the purpose of severing all relationships, trying to only be one with the force. Emotions just came naturally to you! Connecting with all kinds of people, acting motherly to the less fortunate, and trying to be there for all of the clones.

The final straw for The Empire was when you were caught holding a small ceremony for a few fallen Clones. A fellow Jedi, you once called brother, turned you in.

You were immediately reassigned to Clone Force 99- labeled 'Defective.'

That was the same day you met Hunter. The first thing you noticed was his face tattoo, how attractive it looked. The skull covering half his face tickled your curiosity. You never had the courage to ask him about it, the whole 'don't get attached or you'll get reassigned' circled your mind.

You quickly grew to love Force 99. They accepted you, treated you like a human being. Not just a force wielder, something you'd never had. Despite your vow and upbringing, you considered them all to be your family.

Just under a year had gone by when Order 66 went out. You noticed how protective Hunter could be. He fought off droids, clones, and anyone who tried to harm you.

Not many knew of your Jedi background, allowing you to go into somewhat of a stealth mode. You acquired new gear, matching your team's. With a helmet on around others- your identity and life were safe. Though, you and Crosshairs friendship wavered...

The weight of your life always being at steak rested on you heavily. You couldn't sleep anymore, having gone days with low or no rest..

"Hunter, can we talk?" You asked him in the cockpit.

"Of course, what happened?" He looked worried.

Tech, however, does not even look up from his position as pilot.

"Uh, Tech, can we have a moment?" You asked, feeling a little guilty for making him leave.

Now he does look up, pressing some kind of 'auto-pilot' button. "Sure."

Great, now you already felt awkward.

"Look, I think I should go.." You got straight to the point. It hurt too much to draw it out.

Hunter's face fell, he was not expecting that. Though, a little part of you appreciated he cared so much.

"W-what?" He stepped closer to you.

"I just, well I just think it's for the best..." You fiddled with your fingers. The force felt moody, like something was off.

"Did something happen? Did Crosshair say anything! I swear I-"

"No, no. Nothing like that I promise!" You took the last step separating you. You were inches apart now.

"Did I do something?" He whispered, knowing he couldn't forgive himself if he did.

"No, I don't think there's anything you could do to make me turn from you." You whispered back, like a secret.

"Then what?" He softly asked.

You looked at the floor, unwilling to face him now. "I can't be the reason you guys are attacked. The Empire is after all Jedi's. You are all at risk if I am here..."

He, with the lightest touch, listed your chin up with a finger. "That doesn't matter... You're safest with us. You can't leave. Damn if the rest of us are in danger, I don't care. We will protect you. I won't let anyone take you." His voice was husky, he meant every word.

You didn't know how to respond, you were awestruck. Your legs felt like jello. All of your training out the window. You hadn't a thought except for him. Everything was suddenly him.

You just nodded, leaning further into his touch. Almost in a trance. You desperately craved his lips on yours. Just an inch forward and they'd be yours. So close-

A beeping made you gasp and pull away. Tech storming back in to the cockpit, taking his respective seat.

"Sorry to interrupt. We are about to land on Kamino."

You panted still, the exchange leaving you flustered. He eyed you, searching for any kind of rejection from you. Neither of you spoke with Tech in the room, you just looked at him with your head in the sky. You were unbelievably happy.

Unfortunately, you and Hunter were yet to bring that moment up again. Things kind of went back to normal, as you all got increasingly busy. Losing Crosshair and gaining Omega was a stressful time, you didn't have a second alone with Hunter. Even if you did want it more than anything.

Luckily, you had a calling to Omega. She was the sweetest girl you'd ever met, her positivity was inspiring.

You spent a lot of time with her, bonding especially when there was down time in-between missions. You also picked up on Hunters defensive and protective nature with her. He was undeniably acting as a father would.

"Yes, bullseye!" You jumped up and gave Omega a high-five. She was getting better everyday with her energy bow.

She laughed and bounced giddily.

"Now, lets see if you can hit a moving object." You encouraged her.

The two of you were far enough from the city to be hidden. You moved a small cart and a few bricks with the force. It slowly moved back and forth. It was hard concealing the powers you learned as a Jedi, but you soon adapted. Using the force less frequently as time went on.

She took a deep breath, inhaling as she pulled the bow string back. Just as she let the arrow go, it went flying past the target.

"Aw." She was visibly upset, not realizing how different moving targets were.

"Hey, it's okay. You should have seen me trying to move an object for the first time. It took me days to even lift a pebble." You proved your point by lifting a nearby stone up. "I still struggle sometimes..." You purposefully dropped the piece.

"You're so cool... I wish I was a Jedi! Then I wouldn't have to learn how to use an Energy Bow. I could just use my mind!" She made silly gestures. Moving a hand out to pretend she was wielding the force.

You smiled at her, deciding to shield her from the horrors of your childhood.

"I think an Energy Bow is just as cool. If not cooler!" You assured her.

"If you think so." She grumbled out, but ready to pull the string back again.

You sighed. "I think that's enough practice for today. It's getting late, honey." The sky was getting dark.

She looked displeased, "Why don't you go find Wrecker and get some dinner?"

She brightened up at this. "I'll save some for you too!"

You watched her as a mother would, making sure she was by Wreckers side before turning away.

"I can feel you staring." You announced, cleaning up the mess you and Omega made while training.

Footsteps were now heard as Hunter revealed himself. "Sorry." He acted as if you caught him doing something bad.

"Oh, I don't mind. I know you're just trying to keep Omega safe. Care to help?" You asked, bending down to place the brick back where they were found.

He walks to you, crouching to help. "Not just Omega." He says, lifting a few bricks.

"Hmm?"

"You as well." This made you blush lightly.

"Thank you, you know you'd make a really good father, right? Omega really looks up to you." You proclaimed, making sure Hunter knew his worth.

He stiffened, the words hitting his heart. "If anything she looks up to you. You're so good with her. It's..." He seemed to have regretted his choice of yours, continuing with- "You just always know what to say and do."

"It's what?" You asked, not letting him change the subject.

With a sigh he starts, "It's one of the reasons I love you so much." Another shift in the force, your heart thumping loud.

You stood, turning to him. A sense of Deja Vu rushed over you. To that day on the ship, the moment that was never resolved.

"You do?" You asked. Love was a feeling you were never supposed to feel as a Jedi.

"Have I not been clear? I live and breathe you..."

A flutter rests in your stomach. A sharp thrill reaching lower.

You walk to him, chest almost touching. "I don't think we finished what we started in the cockpit..." He declared, voice deep.

You shook your head. "No, we didn't. Are you going to make that up to me?" You spoke smug, but knew you'd melt at his touch.

"Only if you'll allow me..." A hand brushed against your forearm, resting there.

"Yes, of course..." He leaned down, his other hand now cupping your face.

He stopped just before his lips touched yours. "There won't be any going back." He whispered.

You didn't speak, only pushing yourself flush to him. It forced your lips to meet.

It was clumsy, you'd never done anything like this before. The Jedi code was very strict. You wondered if he had been with anyone else in that moment.

All of a sudden insecure over something you've yearned for.

Your thoughts were crushed with is next words, "You're perfect. So, so perfect." You turned a new shade of red, deeper and deeper.

"Watching you with Omega... Made me realize." He stopped, opting to kiss you once again.

You complied. He wrapped a hand around your waist, bringing you as close as you could be. Your arms lifted around his neck.

You pulled your head back slightly to breathe, "And what is that?"

"That I should ask this beautiful woman out." He stated, looking for your response.

"You didn't even have to ask..."

A/N- Thank you so much for reading! I loved writing this one, I hope you liked it!! It's like 1 am, so i'll come back and edit this when i'm not tired xD!

Tags- (lmk if you want to be tagged as well!) @thethreeeyed-raven @dangraccoon @knight-of-flowerss

[fanofstuff01]

HERE I AM! Here I am with a little writing of mine!

Before we get started, this AU belongs to @woah-why-i-am-here and they have pretty cool drawings about it. GO CHECK IT OUT!

Considering the show itself is 16+, this is aswell, know it then read this, also it has Valentino.

DEAR TUMBLR! PLEASE DONT TAKE THIS DOWN!

A little summary: Adam fell to hell, needed money, and Valentino was the only one hired him. He owned his soul, and it was too late when Adam realized what he agreed to work on. He is one of Valentino’s top whores now. And of course, Adam and Angel met, in fact, more than ‘met’. Their films sure sell a lot. They slowly become friends and Angel convinces Adam to come to the hotel. This is after these happened. Also not shipping Angel x Adam.

ENJOY! (Also since you love holydust @rius-cave , tagging you!)

“And cut!” Valentino said proudly, ending the scene. “One hour break and we’re here till 8!”

Adam panted as he tried to collect his mind. He slowly backed away from the fish demon gal, wore his robes back and got up to go to his dressing room. This was the third demon he was on top of that day, and sure enough she was not gonna be the last. Today was gonna suck. Val was planning to work on eight fucking movies, not to mention six of them were gay and two of them were with Angel. He was glad the one-hour break came.

“Addie~” He heard someone behind him and felt that certain ‘someone’ gripping his shoulders.

Valentino. Awesome. Just who he needed.

He attempted to not show the fear and hatred he felt to his face and mask. Too bad the fucking thing was programmed to show every emotion on his face, and sometimes they didn’t even needed to be on his face, him feeling them was enough. Angel had a -probably true- theory about it, he thought that it was ‘connected’ to his brain when he wore it. Adam was already regretting that he put the “I will only work with a mask” in his contract. He didn’t like the idea of showing his face on films, but this was much worse. He couldn’t fucking took it off till his shift ended!

“Yes, Val?” He asked, trying to avoid the movements he was doing to his chest. Yes, prick? he corrected himself in his brain.

“You were so, so good in the last one, babe” he chuckled.

“Thank you, Valentino.”

“Go ahead. Rest, baby.” He thought he was gonna leave him, but instead, he leaned in and kissed his cheek, completely disgusting the sinner. He didn’t flinch or resist though, he knew what’d happen if he did. “Oh, I can’t wait to see you and Angie on stage together.” he let out another one of his creepy chuckles and finally let the first man go. Adam almost runned to his dressing room, closed the door behind him and threw himself on the couch.

“Fuuck.” He groaned and tried to grab his wine bottle without getting up.

“Adam?” A familiar voice came from outside.

“Door isn’t locked!” He yelled.

“Hey, dickmaster.” A pink spider demon came inside and sat down beside him, tilted his head back and watched as the demon managed to grab the bottle and drank it without standing up, like his life depended on it.

“Y’know you can choke yourself doin’ that, right?”

“Meh, who the fuck cares.” He get up dazedly and looked inside the bottle with one of his eyes.

“I don’t recommend dying on work hours, Val punishes the ones who do.”

“Unholy shit, that actually happened?!” Adam asked, his pupil-les eyes went wide.

“I saw three accidents.” Angel shrugged. “Any left for me?”

“Sorry, I guess that bitch camera guy sneaked up here again and stole my stash.”

“It’s fine. Wanna eat your food? We’re gonna need energy.” Angel asked and took out two containers out of his bag. “I made lasagna yesterday.”

“Oh, you bet I do then.” He smirked and took his own. Angel knew the best ways to make it.

They chatted together until their break ended.

“Adam! Get your ass here or there will be consequences!” A little window appeared in Adam’s mask, almost like a pop-up ad. It was their costume designer. “And bring Angel with you!”

“Fine, fine! Ugh.” He groaned, swiped the page to make it dissapear and get up. “Who’s idea was putting this shit on this again?” He mumbled to himself. “Let’s go cocksucker, we have another job to do.”

HOW IS IT!?

By the way, Adam’s mask in this is practically based on his original mask, a Voxtech product just for Adam. Like Vox’s screen, it’s like a screen-face.

I’ll continue this

[gamergirl929]

The End of the Year (Hermione Granger x Reader)

A continuation of the multichapter fic, The Durmstrang

It felt like it was only yesterday when you decided to transfer from Durmstrang to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, a transfer that brought you to the woman you were hopelessly in love with, Hermione Granger.

Now however, you had no idea where your relationship stood, or if she felt the same as you did. You could only hope she felt the same way as you did, but would you find the courage to tell her how you felt before she left on the Hogwarts Express and off to her home for the Summer?

Disclaimer: SO, I took a crazy long writing hiatus, my writer's block literally took over, I recently picked up writing again, and realized I forgot to update this fic for a crazy long time, but I'm back and hoping to get this one wrapped up, please let me know what you think and I'm so sorry for such a long delay!

9.

Snogging with Hermione in the Astronomy Tower during your free period had become a regular thing, almost resulting in the two of you being caught.  

What bothered you, and what bothered Hermione as well was not knowing what exactly the two of you were.  

Was it a fling?  

Was it a relationship?  

Neither of you knew, but as the days of the semester grew fewer and fewer, you knew you needed to find out.  

It wasn’t until the last week though that you found the courage you needed to ask Hermione what this was, and if she wanted this to go further.  

************************************************************************

Hermione couldn’t believe the year was at its end, couldn’t believe that the year she’d spent with you was coming to an end, but it was, though she had your guarantee that next year, she’d see you at Hogwarts again.  

What wasn’t guaranteed though, was what was going on between the two of you.  

Hermione had wanted to know since it started, wanted to know what the kisses you first shared in the Astronomy Tower meant, though the longer it went on, the more fearful she grew.  

What if you didn’t want what she wanted?  

What if you didn’t want her as much as she wanted you?  

Hermione lets out a soft sigh, drawing the attention of her fellow Gryffindor's sitting around her in The Great Hall.  

“What’s wrong?” Ron asks, shoving as much food in his mouth as he can.  

Ginny rolls her eyes.  

“Honestly Ronald.” She smacks him in the back of the head, eliciting a snigger from those nearby.  

“Oi! I could’ve choked.” He downs his Pumpkin Juice.  

Ginny scoffs.  

“Don’t eat like a troll then, you git.”  

Ron mumbles.  

“You’re a git.”  

Harry shakes his head, turning away from the bickering siblings, his blue eyes landing on the Gryffindor in front of him.  

“Thinking about Y/N?” He asks, smirking when Hermione’s cheeks flush.  

“No.”  

Ron waves a fork at the girl.  

“I seen you two heading to the Astronomy Tower the other day, what was that about?” He asks dumbly, completely missing Hermione’s blood red cheeks, meanwhile Ginny grins, as does Harry.  

“Yeah, what WERE you two doing Hermione?” She teases, earning an eye roll in return.  

“N-Nothing, h-had a free period.” She mumbles, unable to look across the table at her friends.  

Meanwhile, you’re heading down the grand staircase, your face buried in your Charm’s book. 

You blindly make your way towards The Great Hall, somehow making it to the Gryffindor table and taking your seat beside Hermione, unaware that your friends had been discussing what had went on between you and Hermione in the Astronomy Tower.  

“Mione, can you help me?” You ask, not looking away from your book and Hermione nods, leaping up from the table and grabbing your hand, dragging you out of The Great Hall, leaving a smirking Ginny and Harry behind.  

************************************************************************

As the days went by, the end of the Semester neared, with exams going on, Hermione and you hadn’t had much time to talk, let alone meet in the Astronomy Tower.  

In reality, while there, you spent a lot of your time just talking, just being alone together without any eyes on you.  

SOMETIMES that alone time included snogging as well, but you’d keep that between you and Hermione, though considering you hadn’t spent much time alone together, you were missing her dearly.  

You yawn, rubbing your face before stretching with a lengthy groan.  

You had ONE day of exams left and you were doing everything to make sure Hogwarts had a REASON to welcome you back with open arms, though you knew for a fact you were coming back.  

“Hey mate.”  

You jump, glancing behind you, smiling when Harry and Ron jump onto the couch, sitting on either side of you.  

“Hey.” You sigh, slamming your book shut.  

“Still studying?” Harry asks and you nod, earning a snort from Ron.  

“Just wing it like I do.”  

Ginny rolls her eyes as she passes by, smacking him in the head with whatever she was holding.  

“Bloody Hell!”  

You slap a hand over your mouth, but are unable to hold back your laughter, tears forming in your eyes as you laugh at Ron’s misery.  

“Quiet you, git.” He growls, though he can’t help but smile as well, Harry’s lips splitting in a grin as well.  

T0he portrait swings open, revealing a disheveled Hermione Granger, the intellect having been in the library until it had closed.   

Hermione feels brief annoyance at the sound of laughter, but as soon as she realizes who it is that’s laughing, that annoyance melts away, the girl instead leaning against the wall to watch you.  

She can’t help but grin when you playfully shove Ron, the boy shoving you back.  

It’s in that moment, seeing you so carefree, so happy makes Hermione realize that she doesn’t just care for you as more than a friend.  

She was completely and utterly in love with you.  

Your eyes finally find Hermione’s, a grin stretching across your face as you wipe the tears from the corner of your eyes.  

Hermione smiles back, hugging her books to her chest.  

She could only hope that you felt the same.  

************************************************************************

That hope dwindled away when the final day of the semester came, and you’d remained silent, the courage you THOUGHT you had at the start of the week ebbing away.  

It wasn’t until you were walking to the Platform to see your friends off that you realized you were moments from running out of time.  

It’s only when your feet hit the platform that you realize you have to make your move now, your father and the things he’d taught you be damned.  

You clear your throat, grabbing Hermione’s wrist.  

Hermione turns to you, brows furrowed.  

“Are you alright?” She asks, worriedly and you nod, swallowing hard.  

“Ye-Yeah, I am...” You shuffle nervously from foot to foot, your father’s voice screaming in your head, repeating the same mantra as always.  

You give your head a shake.  

“L-Look.” You clear your throat.  

Hermione’s head cocks to the side in confusion.  

“Hermione, if I didn’t do this, I know I’d regret it for the rest of my life.”  

Hermione’s heart skips a beat as you lean in, her brown orbs widening.  

You stop midway, giving her the chance to close the gap between you, giving her the chance to make the final move.  

If her lips met yours then she felt the same way you did, if your lips met, it meant your father was wrong, and that everything you were told was wrong.  

Though there was a chance she might no- 

Your thoughts fall silent as Hermione’s lips meet yours, the woman’s fingers tangling in the fine hairs at the base of your neck as her lips glide against yours.  

Nearby, Harry, Ron and Ginny as well as a few other Gryffindor's watch the scene gleefully.  

The two of you part, your eyes wide and cheeks flushed as a grin stretches across your face.  

Hermione giggles, leaning in to rest her forehead against yours.  

“I suppose that’s a way of coming out to the school.” She shrugs, cheeks bright red and you chuckle.  

“I suppose it is.” You grin, the same charming smile that you’d directed her way when you sat down beside her in The Great Hall at the beginning of the year.  

Hermione licks her lips.  

“Does that mean...?” She starts and you smile.  

“Maybe I’d like to snog you in more places than the Astronomy Tower.” You shrug, earning a playful slap in the chest.  

You shake your head, wrapping your arms around her.  

“I wanted to do this in 4th year, but Victor got to you first.” You roll your eyes, the girl in your arms giggling.  

“And now?” She whispers hopefully and you smirk, glancing around.  

“Well, I don’t see Victor, do you?” You ask, the girl shaking her head.  

“No, I don’t.”  

You grin, leaning in to press another kiss to her lips, though you’re jumping moments later when the Hogwarts Express’s horn blows loudly.  

Hermione shakes her head with a grin.  

“I have to go.” She frowns, though it passes for a moment, when you kiss her forehead.  

“I’m sure we’ll see each other over Summer. Send me an owl?” You smile, the girl nodding.  

“Of course.”  

Hermione presses another kiss to your lips before she glances over her shoulder and Harry, Ron and Ginny, the three grinning widely.  

“Shut up.” She mumbles, turning to give you another squeeze and a quick peck before she makes her way towards the train, her friend’s in toe.  

“Oi! We’ll see you at the Burrow later this year, yeah?!” Ron yells and you nod, sending the four a wave.  

“You can count on it.”  

Your eyes remain on the group until they disappear into the train, your smile widening when you catch Hermione’s brown orbs behind the glass of one of the many train’s windows.  

You place your fingers to your lips before blowing at the girl, whose blush you can see through the train’s window.  

Your hand rests over your heart as you watch the train pull away, the last thing you see being that of Hermione’s chocolate brown orbs as the train rolls out of the Platform.  

In that moment you knew, transferring to Hogwarts had been the best decision you’d ever made.  

[daddyfordaeddy]

Pairing: god of time! San x f! Reader

Word Count: 2113

Warnings: cursing, dub con (it's a planned scenario but only shown to be one at the end so read with caution) (smut warnings under cut)

Genre: smut, rated E for explicit, established relationship au

Summary: Strange things keep happening, and your best friend may know something about it

Smut warnings: fingering, oral (female receiving, male recieving but only like a sentence and implied), unprotected sex (wrap before tap guys🔫), dirty talk, slight begging if you squint, felching (again), cum play, praise, light breast play, dub con, roleplay (they're roleplaying that san is her best friend who takes advantage of her), creampie i think?

I’m only doing a couple of the February Filth Fest, and this is day/track 25! free use/spit play, and i chose the former! this is a pretty heavy fic (dubcon) ad if you don't like it, please click away! while at the end it's mentioned that this is just a scenario, it's not really said outright and it's only at the very end so please!! read with caution!

And this is the last of the FFF i'm writing! i hope you enjoyed the burst of smuts from me and maybe you'll see more in the future ;)

ALSO! as threatened by @sanjoongie...dedicated to her and it's for topaz's eyes only lol /hj

-

A strange taste fills your mouth and you stop mid-sentence, clearing your throat and chugging the rest of your water. Your best friend, San, is watching you with concern on his face. “You good (Y/N)?”

You nod, clearing your throat again and swallowing down the strange bitter taste in your throat. “Uh. Yeah,” you say, smiling at him. “Just got a weird taste in your throat. Probably choked on my spit or something.”

San hums, brushing over the incident, but when he’s left for his apartment and all you have to keep you company is silence, you rush to the bathroom to cough and gargle the familiar taste of come out of your mouth. That has been happening to you for the past few days. You’ll be in the middle of the most mediocre task and in the blink of an eye your mouth or ass is sore and there’s cum dripping somewhere.

You remember the first time it happened like it was yesterday (and to be honest, it was only just the past Saturday). You were just doing your laundry with San playing video games as he usually does since you just ‘have the better router’, when you felt your underwear grow sticky and your legs quiver like when you use your Hitachi in privacy. With a glance at San, you slid into the bathroom and yanked your underwear down, staring for a good moment at the wetness that covered both the cloth and your thighs. There was no mistake about it. You had orgasmed.

You had brushed it off as just some random body thing, but then it happened again. And again. Some days you’d just be having dinner, and on others, you’d just be reading a book and you’ll find yourself ass up and underwear soaked. Every once in a while, you’d even have the taste of come on your tongue.

You swear you’re haunted, but no amount of salt, or incense, or candles kept whatever entity it was from coming and using you in the blink of an eye.

But one day, you were just trying to have a nice shower when this time, when you blinked, you were laying on the ground with come all over your face and your cunt ached and gaped more than you were used to. Tentatively, you pushed two fingers inside you, subconsciously letting out a sigh at the stretch. When you draw them back out, your eyebrows raise at the white, sticky release clinging to your fingers. That was a first, and you hate that you grow wetter at the idea.

This needs to stop.

-

“San, I think I’m being haunted,” you cry, launching yourself into his arms as soon as he opens the door at eleven at night. “I swear I can’t stop it.”

San’s brows furrow the slightest bit. “What do you mean? Why so late?” Even through his confusion, he lets you in and locks the door behind him, a fact you’re eternally grateful for.

“Okay, hear me out. I think a ghost is haunting me and using my body as a toy.” You know you sound like a fool with how San’s expression changes to that of slight amusement. “You don’t have to believe me, but I swear it’s happening!”

With a sigh coming from the depths of his soul, San opens the blanket he had swaddled himself in, and you quickly curl up under his arm. “Do you want to stay here tonight? We can check it out tomorrow.”

You nod as best you can with your face in his warm, sturdy, chest and the two of you waddle your way to his bed. The covers are thrown off haphazardly and you almost feel bad until you remember what happens to you when you’re in your apartment and you let it go.

As you melt into the bed, San throws an arm around you and mumbles in your ear, “You did look pretty good sprawled out in the shower.”

It’s almost embarrassing it takes you a minute to register what he says but your eyes snap open to find San staring at you right in the eyes with a smirk growing on his face. You jerk away from him but you’re tangled in the sheets and you just fall to the ground.

You try again, but this time, something’s off. Your limbs aren’t moving how you want them to…or moving at all. San’s smile only grows wider as he leans over the edge of the bed to stare at you. “Surprise,” he hums, reaching down to pull you back onto the bed like you weigh nothing. “You were just too easy, (Y/N)ie. Running straight to my arms like I’m the one to save you? Pathetic.” He scoffs, his hands wandering down your sides. It would feel ticklish but as much as you try to squirm, nothing happens and his hands keep moving.

With a glint in his eye, his large palm comes to rest on your cunt, still soaked through from what he did to you in the shower. And within a second, he pushes your panties aside and presses his fingers into you, groaning at how loose you are. “It was so fucking easy,” he moans, moving closer to you so his breath fans over your face. You can smell the mint toothpaste and you want to spit in his face, but you can’t. “You don’t even remember anything, right? Just what happens after. But God, now you finally can see exactly what I do.”

His hands slide up your torso, pushing your bra up to play with your nipples. “So pretty and pliant for me,” his lips twist into a smile and he presses a kiss to your slightly open mouth. “God, I’ve waited for this for so long. You never saw the way I looked at so, what was a guy supposed to do? Now I finally have you.”

His breathing becomes laboured as his mouth trails down your neck before nipping at the soft flesh of your breast. You can feel his hard-on pressing into your thigh, twitching and forming a wet patch at the front of his grey sweatpants. San’s hand reaches between your bodies to shove his pants down enough to free his cock, slapping it against your cunt before lining up and pushing in slowly. “Fuck,” he groans, his eyes rolling back in his head at the feeling of your hot pussy swallowing him up. “Just as sloppy and loose as I like it.”

He presses his lips feverishly against your unresponsive mouth, thrusting harshly. Each time he pulls out and slams back in, you can hear every squelch and you want to moan at how his thick cock hits the perfect spot every time. You hate that you love the feeling of him stretching you out and kissing your walls so sweetly. But the worst part is the fact that as much as you can feel every little bit of pleasure he’s serving you, you can’t move an inch to chase your own pleasure. The slow pressure building in your gut stays stagnant and you won’t come, not until you’re free from this prison of time.

San’s still mouthing at your parted lips, his hands wandering around your torso and gripping at your skin. His thrusts have become more erratic, pistoning in and out of you as his cock throbs. “Oh my God,” he groans, high-pitched and almost whining as he comes deep inside of you. With each rope of cum, you can feel it filling you up so well and if you could, you would relax at the end of it. San pants against your lips, his eyes squeezing shut as sweat falls on you.

His hands are still gripping onto your hips like there’s no tomorrow, but his hips come to a still as he jerks once, twice, and the last bits of come spurt out of him.  “God, still so perfect,” San hums, biting at your lower lip. “So much better when you look at me like that. So pretty.”

His hands cup your face and stroke your cheek. He slowly pulls out of you but to your surprise, instead of letting you regain control of your body, he shifts, sliding lower. It takes you a moment to register what’s happening but as soon as his warm breath hits your core it hits.

As he licks a broad stripe up the pool of his come and your slick, you jolt with a gasp, your body finally back to yours. Before you can do anything, struggle, moan, even blink, San sucks harshly at your clit and your hands fly to grip his hair as you half scream half moan. “Shit–” you whine out, voice broken as if you’ve forgotten how to speak. “San– please–”

As a response, his tongue flicks your clit and his grip on your hips tightens as he pulls you even closer to him. “Fuck, taste so good, and you taste even better begging for me.” His voice is so raspy as he mouths his way down to your fluttering hole, shoving his tongue in and working it against your clenching walls.

You squeal, legs jerking but you can’t move too much before they suddenly are still and you lift your head to see San staring right at you as he tastes you. “Isn’t it so much easier that way?” he murmurs into your dripping cunt, eyes burning with desire. “No struggling, just feeling?”

Before you can respond, his teeth scrape against your sensitive bud and the slow build-up of your orgasm finally crashes over you. Your brain goes fuzzy and your vision burns white as you throw your head back onto the mattress and your hands grip his hair so tight you fear you might’ve pulled out some hair. You swear you’ve gone deaf for a few blissful seconds before you come back down from your high and San’s slowed his licks as he groans, sitting up and pressing just the head of his dick into you as he cums again, painting your folds white. Gently, he pushes his come back inside of you around his dick while thrusting shallowly into you, moaning as his come foams up around his fingers. “God, you’re such a fucking dream," San moans, crawling up to meet your tired face and kiss you deep, his tongue working its way into your slack mouth, and you can taste his come on his tongue.

A pause, and he cups your face and presses another, lighter, kiss to your lips. You respond this time, pulling him closer by his shirt collar. “I wasn’t too rough with you, right?” His voice is much smaller now, and your eyes crinkle as you smile at him fondly.

“Of course not. You never are. Sure, I was a bit sore after you used your powers, but hey, that’s what makes it good.” You press a kiss on his cheek. “I’m just happy I got to be with you. I mean, who else can boast they’re dating a god of time?”

San chuckles, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you closer. “And I’m lucky to be dating the one and only (Y/N).” He presses another sweet kiss to your temple. “You did so well for me too. Now, let’s get you in the bath and clean you up.”

You chuckle, winding your arms around his neck and kissing his jawline. “Or…we could use another round.”

“Ah, you’re not tired yet? I just used you for a good hour,” San scolds, but you can feel him growing hard against your hip again. “Maybe I should tire you out for real.”

With a smirk, you reach down and palm his growing erection. “Maybe you should,” you start to say, but you’re soon cut off by his lips on yours. He picks you up, making you squeal as he carries you to the connected bathroom. “Aw,” you pout, but San kisses it away and you see the darkness in his eyes.

“Don’t ‘aw’ so soon, baby. If you want a round two, it’d just be easier to do it here,” San teases and your eyes brighten at his implications. “Now be good for me and get on your knees.”

In the blink of an eye, you find yourself already ready in position on the cold tile and heat pools in your core as you smile and open your mouth wide. Your body freezes, but your mind relaxes as you let him slip his half-hard cock into your mouth. There are many perks to dating him, and this is just one of them.

[perfectsunlight]

𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐠 [𝟏𝟑]

𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘅 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: NONEEEEE WE CHEERED.

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 2.3k

𝗽𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗲𝘀: 𝗴𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗽𝗶𝗲 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲

sm entertainment officially announced ningning’s hiatus one month after her arrival at the rehab center.

they said she was taking time for herself in order to focus on her health and wellbeing. most people had no idea where she had gone. 

dispatch had no sightings of her for weeks. they did not even know when she was at the hospital either, to which everyone was thankful for. the company was shocked to know that the chinese idol was willing to get sent to rehab. 

however, despite the initial shock, they offered to pay for all the expenses and also said she could take all the time she needed in order to get better. 

the truth is bulletproof, there's no fooling you

i don't dress the same

yizhuo needed to be away from the city. she needed to be somewhere where she could find who she truly was. geoje was where the company decided to send her. it was a 4 hour drive from seoul, making it just far enough for her to get away, but also close enough for people to come visit. the city was right off the coast of busan, situated on an island connected to the mainland via bridges.

she would hate to admit it, but part of her never wanted to leave geoje. it was beautiful, and she felt like she could be herself within the sanctuary of the rehab center. it was a bit difficult at first, opening up to complete strangers about her issues, but she was willing to try her best.

that was all anyone expected of her here — to just try her best.

she had never had that environment. it felt nice to have such a change. it felt right. 

me and who you say i was yesterday

have gone our separate ways

most of the people who arrived at the center were older than she was, meaning they had no idea who she was. there was an older woman who worked as an instructor for an art class that the facility offered, and whenever ning would go in and draw, she would sing.

she had told yizhuo that she should become a singer when she gets out because her voice was outstanding. all the chinese girl could do was smile and laugh a little.

it was ironic for her. she used to love being known by everyone as “ningning from aespa”, but here she loved being unknown. when she arrived, she said she was an international student studying korean language at yonsei. 

it was a believable cover story, and no one questioned it. the anonymity was a relief. she could walk around without the weight of her idol identity. 

there were no fans to impress, no expectations to meet, no cameras capturing her every move. 

she could just be yizhuo, a young woman finding her way back to herself. 

left my living fast somewhere in the past

'cause that's for chasing cars

days at the center had a gentle rhythm. mornings began with a communal breakfast, where she’d chat with the other residents, exchanging stories of their pasts and dreams for the future. after breakfast, there were various therapy sessions. she found solace in group therapy, where she realized she wasn’t alone in her struggles. the stories she heard, though different from her own, were a reminder that everyone had their battles. in the afternoons, she often joined the art class. 

the instructor, mrs. lee was her name, was a kind-hearted woman in her sixties, with a voice that was both soothing and encouraging. she felt more of a mother to yizhuo than her own had. her words of praise and encouragement made ning feel seen, not as an idol, but as a person with potential beyond her public persona. 

it was different to have someone so maternal, but she thoroughly felt better. whenever it felt difficult to open up, she would talk to mrs. lee. she had a way of listening that made yizhuo feel understood, without judgment or pity. the idol realized all she ever needed was someone who wouldn’t pity her.

turns out open bars lead to broken hearts

and going way too far

the two became closer when the older woman found her crying after her first few sessions of therapy with the facility’s psychiatrist. mrs. lee never asked any questions, and simply just embraced the younger girl in a tight hug until yizhuo’s tears stopped. from that day forward, ning went to mrs. lee for everything.

“you're stronger than you think,” mrs. lee would often say, her aged eyes filled with kindness. “you’ve done well. only you can be the best version of yourself, for yourself.” these words resonated deeply with the young idol. she began to see her journey not as a series of failures, but as a testament to her resilience.

she was ning yizhuo, a girl who did the best she could. and that was all she could ever want to be.

take one, pour it out

it's not worth crying 'bout the things you can't erase

on days when she felt particularly overwhelmed, yizhuo would take long walks along the coast. the sound of the waves crashing against the rocks was therapeutic. ning had never been a fan of beaches (mostly because of the sand), but upon arriving in geoje, she fell in love with them.

at first, she would just walk to the steps that led down to the sand but not descend. she’d only lean against the railing and watch the water from above, not wanting to touch the sand. the rhythmic ebb and flow of the tides calmed her, the vastness of the ocean making her own problems seem smaller, more manageable. 

like tattoos and regrets

words i never meant and ones that got away

but as days turned into weeks, she found herself longing to be closer to the water. one morning, she took a deep breath and made her way down the steps. she hesitated at the bottom, toes just inches away from the sand. 

with a determined sigh, she stepped onto the beach, feeling the grainy texture beneath her feet. the initial discomfort faded as she walked along the shore, the cool water lapping at her ankles. it became a ritual for her—each day, she’d venture a little further, letting the sand and sea become her sanctuary. 

she began to see the beach not just as a place, but as a metaphor for her own journey—constantly changing, yet always moving forward.

left my living fast somewhere in the past

and took another road

the young woman found herself collecting different things from each trip to the shore. on some days it was a small rock, and others it was other things.

she often collected seashells to save them for you. they were like little pieces of happiness for her, just like you were.

sometimes, she’d even sit on a large rock by the water’s edge, watching the waves crash and retreat. one of the gifts you had given her before she left was a digital camera. without missing an evening, ning took photos of every sunset. 

it reminded her of you, after all. it was only fair of her to show you.

the beach was quiet. ningning hated the quiet before. now, she loved it.

quiet meant she could breathe. she had control of her thoughts and emotions. she no longer let her mind bully her.

turns out crowded rooms empty out as soon

there's somewhere else to go, oh

visitors were allowed to come once a week, meaning most of the time, her members all came to visit her together. of course, she didn’t have a visitor every week, but sm made sure to keep these visits out of the public’s prying eyes when you or her members did come and visit. 

karina usually brought her new stationary, minjeong brought snacks, and aeri would bring her new sd cards for her camera or clothes for the seasonal changes. although ning was away from everyone she knew, she never truly felt lonely.

she had made peace with her isolation. however, the only person she constantly missed was you. 

she’d never thought of ever writing a letter, but she was over the moon when she saw you had written her one a few weeks after she was sent to the facility. mrs. lee teased yizhuo by saying she’d never seen her really smile until she saw her reading the letter. ningning missed you more than she could understand. 

it wasn’t a bad feeling of longing either, but rather a feeling of curiosity for what you were doing at the moment. before she had left seoul, you had mentioned to yizhuo that you had broken up with aeri the night she was hospitalized. 

ningning didn’t need to ask any questions about it, she knew why it happened. you cared about ning. more than anyone else, or anything else. 

and she cared about you, too. more than anyone else, or anything.

i know i used to be crazy

messed up, but, god, was it fun

after being in rehab for 6 months, ningning was finally comfortable enough to return to seoul. 

on her last day there, mrs. lee had brought her a gift. it was a beautifully wrapped box with a note attached to it. the note read, “for the journey ahead. with love, mrs. lee.” ning carefully unwrapped the box, revealing a set of watercolor paints in a case with her initials on it.

mrs. lee smiled warmly. “i thought you might want to continue expressing yourself through art. remember, these are tools for your journey, just as much as your voice is.” tears welled up in yizhuo’s eyes as she hugged the older woman tightly. 

mrs. lee must have known who she really was. the idol decided not to question it.

“thank you for everything,” she whispered. “i’ll never forget what you’ve done for me.” mrs. lee simply patted her back gently. “go out there and show the world who you have always been. and never forget, you’re always welcome back here if you need to escape.”

i know i used to be wild

that's 'cause i used to be young

the facility threw the young idol a send off ceremony the day before she was leaving. there were games and delicious food, and even karaoke. naturally, yizhuo stole the show with her voice. mrs. lee had been taking photos and videos for the chinese girl on the camera you got her. even though rehab was tough, ning didn’t ever want to forget her time here. 

“i’ve learned a lot here. thank you all for helping me remember who i truly am.” yizhuo said with a warm smile as she bowed, concluding her parting speech.

the applause that followed was heartfelt, and ningning felt a sense of closure and gratitude. the friends she had made and the experiences she had shared in geoje were now a part of her story, a chapter she would cherish forever. 

as the evening wound down, yizhuo mingled with the staff and residents, sharing hugs and promises to keep in touch. later that night, she found herself back at the beach for one last walk. the moonlight danced on the waves, creating a serene scene. she took out the camera and captured a few final shots, wanting to hold on to this moment forever.

with a deep breath, she whispered a goodbye to the ocean, feeling a sense of peace wash over her. she was ready to move forward, but she would always carry a piece of this place with her. 

those wasted nights are not wasted

i remember every one

sm entertainment had expressed their excitement in regards to yizhuo feeling well enough to return to seoul. she was a bit nervous for facing the public and their questions to where she had been, but one thing the idol had learned was boundaries.

she didn’t have to tell the world where she had been. only the people who needed to know, knew.

ningning didn’t bring her phone with her to the facility. it was something the facility had requested before her initial arrival. it was quite the laugh when the chinese girl showed up with a mp3 player. however, the idol was thankful she downloaded as many songs as she could have because the upcoming 4 hour drive would be a bit more boring without it.

a car pulled up to the curb, and for a moment ning was confused. she couldn’t see who was inside because of the tinted windows, but when the passenger side window was lowered, she couldn’t help but smile.

i know i used to be crazy

that's 'cause i used to be young

you smiled and ning swore she was about to throw up from excitement. she practically bolted inside with her backpack and duffle, almost hitting her head on the roof when she got inside.

“hey, stranger,” you greeted her warmly, your eyes twinkling with joy. “ready to go home?” the chinese girl nodded, feeling a rush of emotions. she had missed you, she had missed seoul, she had missed her members.

 “more than ready.”

you tell me time has done changed me

that's fine, i've had a good run

“you didn’t forget anything, right?” you teased as you set the car into drive. the idol laughed at your remark before pretending to feign thought. “hm,” she hummed as she tapped her finger against her chin. “just this.”

ningning leaned over the center console and gave you a quick kiss on the cheek.

your cheeks flushed with a warm pink, and you couldn’t help but smile and roll your eyes playfully. “definitely not something to forget,” you replied, feeling a happy flutter in your chest. with one hand on the steering wheel, you took the other and intertwined your hand in the idol’s.

“let’s go home.”

i know i used to be crazy

that's 'cause i used to be young

𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑬𝑵𝑫.

a/n: WE CHEERED ! thank you for all of the support for this series, i love u all <3

𝗧𝗔𝗚𝗟𝗜𝗦𝗧: @jiihu @silantryoo @rosiehrs @craftymasterlistcomicsprune @skisk1 @jisooftme @babycubchae @yunjinhart @pandamiswifey @jenoteamo @lcv3lies  @pagedpick7 @bexisbomb @lcv3lies @lauxymy4 @justalittledissociation @captivq @jeindall777

CLOSED.

[frostbitebakery]

You See Such Mad Things Happening

an The Unlucky Ones snippet

The Curse rises out of him, ghostly bones tapping along his arm in question.

Bly doesn’t know how to answer. His chest feels funny still. Scientist Se has patiently explained to him - “you died” - what had happened before he woke up. But he must’ve done it wrong?

There’s transparisteel cubes around the capsules now.

“I want my batch,” he whispers into his arm, carefully muffled, daringly out loud. He shouldn’t. He must already be in trouble for dying wrong.

He can’t even hear the thuds of Wolffe punching against his own cube. His knuckles are bloody and used to write mean things.

Cody is trying to get Wolffe’s attention.

Wolffe will get in trouble, too. He surely will be disciplined if he doesn’t wipe away the mean words.

The Curse puts a hand against the glass, skull turning to look at Bly.

“I don’t know,” he replies softly. “Maybe it’s because you acted funny yesterday?”

The Curse had grown so large, had called its other halves to itself until they melted into each other. It had looked beautiful and it had felt— scary. But that’s dumb. They’re clones, there’s no need to feel scared if the fear response isn’t to release adrenaline in order to accomplish the mission in an efficient and timely manner.

The lights had clattered and exploded all around them, white halls plunged into darkness, the transparisteel glittering down to the floor. It had been so pretty.

Commander Fordo had snagged him up while Commander Alpha-Seventeen had carried Cody away in the other direction. Gree had been taken away by another Alpha class, too fast for Bly to see who it was.

Cody had looked as mesmerized as Bly had felt. Everyone else had panicked.

And now there are transparisteel cubes around their capsules.

“What if I have a bad dream again?” He can’t go to Cody. Or Wolffe. Or Fox. Or—

He rubs the sniffle into his sleeve. He can’t go to anyone.

The Curse curls around him and he imagines, with everything he’s got, that he can feel it, that it has flesh and skin and warmth.

He comes out of a light doze when a bony hand waves in front of his face, flowing to the bottom edge of the mattress and pointing.

“Stop it, silly,” he chides and looks around. No one is watching him. Fox is playing hand signals with his Curse. Cody ignores his like always. Wolffe— Wolffe isn’t there. Where—

His brother is guided back into their capsule room by an angry looking Alpha-Seventeen, cleaning droid under one arm.

The Curse taps the mattress again and Bly minutely shakes his head. Not while Alpha-Seventeen is here. Bly trusts him with his life but this isn’t about his life.

“Start of night cycle,” the voice in the ceiling announces and the capsules automatically close.

He hurriedly ducks his head and lies down.

The Curse is still outside his body, illuminating the inside enough to crawl to the end of the mattress and fumble a hand under it until he finds the slit in the cover, the pens and flimsi.

He makes himself comfortable on his stomach, knowing the Curse will hover around and through him.

The Curse snaps its jaw a few times, that weird metal rattle only felt, not heard.

“What do you want me to draw?”

The pen follows the glowing finger bones, tracing curves and circles. No straight lines, no hard edges.

Bly looks at the thing when they’re done, angles the flimsi to get a better idea. “What is it? Looks like something from survival sims.” He squints, holds the drawing closer to his face. “Is that a—“ He falters. Stupid survival sims. He knows this. His memory was literally engineered to be eidetic. “A… an angiosperms type plant?”

The Curse hovers next to him, mute.

“A flower, silly.”

It tilts its skull and one of its hands comes out of his chest where his heart is.

“Uh, thank you?” Bly has no idea what the Curse means.

It snaps its jaws at him before sinking into his skin again.

“Goodnight to you, too,” he grins, carefully tucking the drawing under his nightshirt.

[liillyliilly]

Lost In Yesterday

ushijima wakatoshi x reader words; 1446 synopsis; Ushijima wished that things would always stay like they were when it was yesterday. When Y/n moves out of his yesterday, will he be able to keep up?

[Eventually, terrible memories turn into great ones]

Ushijima Wakatoshi doesn’t know what it means to be subtle. Even as a second year in middle school, when he first saw Y/n he knew he needed to say something about the way she looked or else it would just kill him.

“You are very pretty.”

Y/n just gave a small smile and said something in what he could only recognize as English. When she walked off to her desk in the second row, Ushijima knew he was in for a challenge. Being quiet himself, he realized this wasn’t a good match to try and win. His confidence was at an all-time low, as he looked on at her trying to find ways to fit in at school. She would try and use her hands to talk, or resort to drawing what she was talking about. But when people would just shrug and walk off, he felt like seething because Y/n honestly didn’t deserve that.

The one time he tried to get her to play volleyball with him was when he saw her sitting under a tree flipping through a book. But when she just shook her head and pointed at a group of other kids, Ushijima set the ball down and sat next to her. He felt like he was going to burn himself from how much heat was rushing to his face. When she tried to talk to him using small phrases, he felt endeared to her because even though she could only talk like a small child she had tried her hardest. And he could commend her on that.

He thought he would try and pick up on his English when he got home that day. As he laid on the floor, looking through an English dictionary, his eyes wandered to the volleyball sitting right by the door. But he refocused and lasered his eyes onto the pages of words.

“You can do this. Do it for L/n.”

The next day at school, he swallowed thickly before going up to Y/n and making conversation.

“You and I are friends.” He meant it to be more of a question but the reaction Y/n gave was enough of motivator to keep him learning English.

As he went through Middle school and eventually was in his first and second years of High School, Ushijima kept learning English. And while Y/n improved her Japanese and Kanji writing skills, she was still lacking in a lot of descriptive words and could only make out simple sentences. Which gave Ushijima the opportunity to say whatever he was thinking without getting too flustered, knowing that she wouldn’t understand unless he repeated the words.

“Your eyes remind me of the passion I have for volleyball. Deep and pure.” He mustered out as Y/n was resting her head on her hands reading the same magazine as him. They were sitting across from each other at his kitchen table. And if he lowered his gaze, he could see the colors of the magazine running across her eyes.

“What was that?” She set a hand on the magazine page, lifting her head and straightening her back so that she could be semi-eye level with him.

“Nothing to worry about.”

The days he spent trying to keeping growing as friends with her turned into weeks, that turned into months, that turned into a strong bond going into third year.

[Does it help to get lost in yesterday?]

Ushijima Wakatoshi feels like the only time he ever experienced true jealously was when Y/n started going on dates with the boys on the volleyball team. Even as a blunt person, he just couldn’t ever bring up the fact that he also wanted to take her out on a date. At least once. He could deal with meeting and challenging other volleyball players, but the idea of facing Y/n left a sickly-sweet taste in his mouth.

He didn’t notice just how much she had changed from his second year in middle school, until she started to speak to him in near perfect Japanese. Or how she made friends easier than he did. Or the way she laughed at the jokes his team members uttered. He figured the best way to approach this was to talk to Tendou.

“Satori, how do I make a joke?” Ushijima was laying on his dorm bed, his volleyball resting on his chest.

“Oh, is this mayhaps about the foreign girl?” Tendou kicked the desk he was sitting at and slid across the dorm floor with his office chair, only stopping when his chair hit the edge of Ushijima’s bed.

“There are millions of foreign girls Satori.”

“But there’s only one L/n.” Tendou sang, as he wiggled his fingers in the same way he used to taunt their opponents.

“That is true.”

['Cause it might've been somethin', who's to say?]

Ushijima Wakatoshi was never one to regret things. But he regretted ever letting his heart become Y/n’s, if only for an hour. Recently Y/n had been going on and on about some boy in her math class. And it itched at Ushijima. Every time she said his name in that very specific tone of voice, it scratched at him. She would talk about what it would be like if she ever did confess, saying something about it ‘being something, but really who’s to say’.

“And he lent me a pencil when mine ran out of lead. Can you believe that?” She sighed dreamily, and put her hands to her face and held back a smile.

“I can give you a pencil.” Ushijima handed her a pencil.

“Thanks, Ushi, but it was different when he did it.” She twirled the pencil around her hand. Toying not only with the writing tool, but also toying with Ushijima’s heart. It was some sort of game where she continued to just give him hope then steal it away at the last moment.

“Different how?”

“I don’t know. It just felt,” She muttered in English for minute before getting her light bulb moment. “It felt like some sort of made for TV movie about teenage romance.”

“Real romance is not the same as it is in the movies L/n.” Ushijima clarified. He didn’t want Y/n to mix her reality with the incessant daydreams she wandered through.

Real romance wasn’t just a love at first sight thing. Real romance is knowing and understanding a person on such a deep level where you could probably be more conscious of them than your own self.

“I know.” Y/n huffed, and handed the pencil back to him. But he just closed her fingers over her palm so she kept gripping the pencil.

“So why are you fawning over it?” Ushijima was stuck. He wanted to stay in his yesterday of simply talking to Y/n about her books, or school work, or even just listening to her blabber in an incomprehensible jumble of English and Japanese.

“Ushi, you sound angry.” Y/n set the pencil down on the nearest table in his room.

He didn’t want to be angry. He just had had enough of the waiting around for yesterday to happen again.

“I am.”

“Why?” Y/n tilted her head.

“Because I like you.” He confessed.

“I like you too Ushi, but I don’t know what that has to do with this.”

Ushijima wanted to pull his hair out. Ushijima wanted to grab her shoulders and shake any form of sense into her head. Ushijima wanted to stare at her eyes and watch as the vivid colors swirled around with her emotions. Ushijima wanted something so simple, but why wasn’t he getting any sort of response.

“No, you do not understand. I like you.”

“I like you too! But why are you being mean?” Y/n huffed and turned around so that she wasn’t facing him anymore. It seemed so childish and immature. But it was the only way to protect herself from having to directly look at him.

“Can I show you?” Ushijima walked around Y/n so that they were facing each other again.

“Sure.” Y/n still wasn’t meeting his eyes

He leaned in and pressed his lips onto of hers. He didn’t try to go further by moving his lips. He was content with just having his lips touch hers. But when she pressed back and her hands moved up to run through his olive colored hair, he was no longer lost in his yesterday. The yesterday of staying still and watching everything from a defensive stance. Because, it isn’t yesterday any longer. It’s today.

[meluene]

“As I said before, I am not great with people, Dean, I never have been. I often experience trouble with understanding certain behaviors.” He stopped, then narrowed his eyes. ”However, I believe that when it comes to you, I read the situation quite correctly.”

Dean didn’t move. He also probably stopped breathing.

“The mistake you were referring to… is connected to your self-doubt, isn’t it?” Cas asked quietly after a beat. “You actually thought that you were not good enough for me. For us.”

Dean looked away, unable to stand the softness in Cas’s gaze. It felt like his eyes bore deep into Dean’s soul, drawing out all the secrets and fears that Dean didn't want to deal with.

“I hope you understand that this is absurd to me, Dean. It never even crossed my mind that you could think something like that about yourself,” Cas added, raising his eyebrow.

The silence between them stretched uncomfortably to the point where Dean started fidgeting in his seat under Cas’s steady gaze. He knew Castiel was waiting for him to speak, but Dean wasn’t even sure what to say. Of course he wasn’t good enough for Cas or Jack, but he had a suspicion that saying it out loud would end in another pointless argument between them.

“Listen, man,” Dean finally muttered. “I only recently discovered that I’m not straight. I am very out of my depth here. And you… you seem to be like, I don’t know… experienced. And there is Jack, and he needs stability and all that, and I’m just… some guy. With… with issues,” Dean ended weakly.

A smile flickered on Cas’s face. “I believe that you completely ignore your own worth, Dean Winchester,” he said, observing Dean closely. “You are very smart and incredibly funny. You have a kind heart and a beautiful soul. You are sensitive and truthful and everything you do has a meaning. You have to admit, ‘a guy with issues’ doesn’t really cover it all, does it?” He ended, raising his eyebrow at Dean.

Dean let out a chuckle, but it sounded hollow. “I’m no good, man,” he said, looking away.

Castiel sighed, then put the mixtape on the table between them, getting Dean’s attention again.

“Alright. I want to date you, anyway,” he said calmly.

Dean blinked. “What?”

+++

It's a fragment of my AU Destiel fic - Hoist your colors

I've been working on it since December, and I finished it yesterday!

I'm kinda proud of myself, not gonna lie.

310k, sailing AU, Impala is a sailboat.

You can find more of it on AO3:

*Special thanks to Chance Peña, who has no idea about me or this fic, but his music kept me going for those few months.