#I’m sooooo self indulgent<3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[little-sw33tie]

“I’m the one everybody’s waiting for…”

“Scream for me, a romantic modern hero!”

Y/N the 3rd is an AU based around the show Lupin the 3rd (who’d a thunk!/silly). Y/N here will be based around Lupin, Sun on Jigen and Moon on Goemon! And we can’t forget Eclipse, who’ll take the place of Fujiko and Vanessa as our favourite Inspector Zenigata!

Y/N is the third thief of world class thieves from the (L/N) Family! Moon, Sun and Eclipse are bots made by an underground famous robotics corporation that fronts as a state of the art children’s pizzeria!

The three bots had managed to escape the Pizzeria at some point. Sun had escaped and met Y/N along the way, tagging with them as a close companion. Moon had managed to find his way to the property of a clan descended from a legendary hero, who luckily took the bot in and trained him. Eclipse made his own way and became a jewel thief, eventually running into both Y/N and Sun, and later on seeing Moon.

Vanessa is the lead Inspector, usually charged to hunt down Y/N, who she heard rumours of them going to the pizzeria to steal something form the CEOs office, there were also rumours about the place that she wanted to look into while she was there. When the bots escaped, the same night she went to investigate, all parties were present and when the bots and Y/N escaped, it was assumed Y/N had stolen the bots.

Though it appears something else happened that night, after that there was a small shift in the air. The air of a bigger threat.

ALT VERSION OF DRAWING UNDER CUT+VERSION WITHOUT TEXT! BRIGHT COLOURS WARNING!

[legendoflozer]

I really like dragon!warriors, so here’s my two cents! More underneath >:)

My first draft of dragon warriors was more based on Volga since that’s literally his game, but I was soooo inspired by all the cool dragon Zelda art that I made this second draft instead!

My revision is more of a half dragon, half Hylian situation, so unfortunately Warriors does not have a full dragon form here like Volga!

I also made him a fire dragon since to me fire rod = affinity for fire = fire dragon lol (also arsonist Warriors rights!)

I also went for a more red color scheme for his scales since I wanted some contrast with the blue!

Some more lil hcs <3

• Warriors is fire proof! So any sort of fire attack doesn’t hurt him, he uses this to his advantage to protect the other Links

• His skin is also super durable, even the skin that is untouched by his scales! He can still get hurt but he does not bruise easily and can tank a hit

• love love loves warmth!! He loves taking naps in the sun like a cat

• however extreme cold temperatures are harmful towards him, he gets sluggish quickly in the cold and if in the cold for too long, it can start to harm him!

• I’m still trying to decide if I want him to be able to breathe fire or not >:))

• definitely has a love of gems and shiny things, but anything given to him from the other Links, like cool rocks or leaves, are insanely important to him and he keeps every single one!

• Dragons are super protective of their hoards and I like to think that Warriors is the type to consider his friends as apart of his Hoard, not in the ‘you are Mine’ way but more of a ‘you are incredibly important to me that I will do anything in my power to help and protect you’ sort of way! He loves this friends and brothers very dearly <3 and gets super fierce if anything harms them <3

• he does have a magic item that disguises his dragon attributes, as not everyone is fond or okay with dragons, so he does it to protect himself and not make others uncomfortable

• def kept it a secret from the other Links for awhile, not including Time (due to knowing each other beforehand) and Hyrule (fae and dragon immediately spotted each other and went, ‘I’ll keep ur secret if you keep mine’) but I think they’ll all be supportive if a little put off at times lol

Can you tell I have a lot of thoughts on this??? Love dragon warriors <33

[shalomniscient]

i think you can tell im a yukong/ himeko/ natasha person by now gjfhlhgfklgslkj im out of ideas today but i would love to see your takes on your first time with them? id imagine they would be sooooo gentle and patient, and i feel like natasha would know all the ways to pleasure you considering shes a doctor and she would touch you in all the right places hehehe ~🍪anon <3

first time || hsr x reader [NSFT][MDNI]

cw. fingering, cunnilingus, first time with a strap-on specifically for yukong, entirely self-indulgent amounts of praise

notes. so............................ guess it's been a while huh

himeko

cw. cunnilingus

“If at any point it gets too much…”

You breathe out slowly, tangling your fingers in Himeko’s runy red hair. The tresses are soft against your skin, and you can glide your hand through it like silk. She so soft, but warms you like a hearthfire. “I’ll tell you, ‘meko. Promise.”

“Good,” she says, and leans down to capture your lips in a kiss. Her lips are as tender as the rest of her, and she tastes like sweet chapstick. Against the backdrop of the cabin lights, she looks like a goddess, a bright light in the vast cosmos stretching outside the cabin window. Her touch both sends you into orbit and draws you gently back to the ground—as if she is your gravity.

“I’ll go slow,” she whispers against your lips, and you nod mutely, only managing a soft mewl as she starts to kiss her way down your neck, her hands resting on your hips. She maps your skin with each kiss, pressing marks that she’ll later trace like constellations of affection. You gasp softly as her mouth finds your chest, and she uses her lips and tongue to lave all your sensitive spots with attention until you’re arching into her.

Himeko smiles, continuing to navigate her way down the plane of your body, drawing a path with her kisses until she settles between your legs. Her hands massage the jut of your hip bones as she shifts so that your legs are thrown over her broad shoulders. You shiver as her breath ghosts over your cunt, already embarassingly slick from her previous touches.

“I’m going to use my mouth on you, okay?” she murmurs, golden eyes flicking up to look at your from between your legs, and your heart nearly leaps into your throat at the sight, the coil in your stomach winding almost painfully tight.

“Okay,” you nod, voice a little small, and Himeko offers you a reassuring smile followed by a kiss to your inner thigh.

“Just relax,” she breathes, and then presses her mouth to your dripping cunt, drawing pleased, strangled noises from both of you. You, at the sensation of her tongue on your pussy, and her at the taste of you filling her senses. She has to hold back the urge to bury her face deeper into your wetness and just devour you—instead, she forces herself to take it slow as she had promised, and languidly laps up and down, from your hole to your stiff clit.

You mewl as her tongue prods the bundle of nerves, and the sound makes Himeko near-dizzy with need. She works you patiently with her mouth, though it doesn’t take much before you’re squirming in her hold, your body beginning to buzz with sensations, a knot winding tight in your lower belly.

Her tongue dips into you, two fingers assisting in spreading your lower lips for her. The wet muscle feels… odd, as it probes inside you, but certainly not unpleasant. Himeko drinks your wetness greedily, nearly voracious for you. The realisation only adds to your budding orgasm; to know you have her so needy, so desperate for you just by your taste—it’s certainly an ego boost of cosmic proportions.

Your hand tangles in her waves of fiery red, and Himeko smiles against your cunt. “Are you close, sweetheart? Just let it happen, let go. I’ve got you.”

Her lips move up from your twitching hole to your puffy clit, sealing around it. Then she sucks, a delicate pressure that nonetheless has stars exploding behind your eyelids as your eyes roll back into your head, your lips parting in a breathless cry of her name. Himeko moans into you as your cum wets her lips and chin more than it already is, and she laps up each drop eagerly.

Your hand in her hair flops down onto the bed as the wave of pleasure begins to ebb, and Himeko smiles as she pushes up, lacing your hand with hers. Her free hand brushes some hair out of your eyes, and she presses a soft kiss to your cheek.

“Good?” she asks softly, her eyes searching yours for any hint of discomfort. You only manage a tired nod, your entire body feeling floaty—in a good way. She chuckles lightly as how fucked out you look already, then lies beside you on the sheets. Her strong arms wrap around you and pull you close, your head resting over the softness of her chest.

“Rest now. You did so well, my dear.”

natasha

cw. fingering, kinda voyeurism

You’ve found that it’s a special kind of embarassing to be walked-in on while trying to get yourself off. That momentary beat of awkward staring between you and the person who walked in, that knowing look yet the refusal to acknowledge it for both your sakes—it’s terrible, and you’ve never wanted to crawl out of your skin more.

Thankfully, Natasha—angelic as she is—took it remarkably in stride, settling down at the edge of the bed, a patient expression on her face. Her hand encircled your wrist, drawing it from the waistband of your sleep shorts, her eyes glinting as she notes the slickness on your fingers.

“Were you close?” she asks gently, and all you can manage was a tiny shake of your head. Natasha smiles, relaxed and easy, and places her hand on your waist. Her touch is cool against your heated skin. “Do you want me to help?”

Your eyes nearly bug out of your head at her offer, a choked noise escaping you. “T-That’s— you don’t have to, Nat—“

Natasha only chuckles, pressing a finger to your lips to hush you. “I know, but I want to. May I?”

“I’ve never… you know,” you say, chewing on the inside of your cheek. “I don’t know if I’ll…”

“Don’t worry,” she assures you. “I’ll take good care of you—and we can stop whenever you feel like it.”

And so, that is how she has you where you are now: squirming under her touch, one hand held tightly in hers while the other grips her other wrist, where two of her long, dextrous fingers sink all the way to the third knuckle inside you. The feeling of fullness between your hips is foreign but not unpleasant, the pads of Natasha’s fingers rubbing the softness of your cunt. She toys with a spot within you that has you seeing stars, your thighs almost snapping shut around her arm.

“T-Tasha—“ you cry out as her thumb finds your stiff clit, and she soothes you with a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth. She draws delicate circles around the little bundle of nerves as her fingers continue to coax more pleasure from you, curling in a come hither motion to brush against your g-spot just right.

“You sound so lovely, my dear,” she hums, the hand holding yours bring it to her lips to kiss your knuckles. “So perfect.”

“Tasha, ‘m gonna—“ you whimper, eyes squeezing shut, and she speeds up her fingers ever so slightly.

“Come for me, sweetheart,” she coos, leaning down to press her forehead against yours. “Relax, and come for me.”

With one last expert curl of her fingers, Natasha sends you far over the edge, the strongest orgasm of your life winding up your spine and bursting like fireworks behind your eyes. You can distantly feel and hear her work you through the high, and you shiver as she withdraws her fingers. They glisten with your slick, dripping from her digits down to her wrist, and when Natasha’s tongue darts out to lick at the droplets you nearly whine.

“Tasha…”

She smiles at you, and it’s like the sun emerging behind grey clouds. She indulges you as you make grabby hands towards her, shifting on the bed so you can wrap your arms around her. “Yes, dearest?”

“Thank you,” you mumble against her shoulder, and she laughs softly, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Anything for you, sweetheart.”

yukong

cw. strap-ons

“H-Hurry up, already…”

Your whine is almost petulant as it leaves your lips. You wriggle your hips—or do your best to, what with Yukong’s firm grip on your waist—trying to push back on her silicone cock. Yukong grunts at that, her hold on you tightening ever so slightly.

“Patience, sweet thing,” she rumbles, low and soothing. “There’s no rush.”

Any smart-mouthed retort dies in your throat as Yukong pushes another inch into you, your head dropping down against the soft sheets. She’s filling you up in a way so different but just as good as her fingers—you can feel the artifical veins on her cock press against your inner walls, and the thickness of it creates a delicious pressure that has more of your wetness slicking the remaining length not buried in you already.

“Good girl,” Yukong breathes, leaning down to nose at your shoulder. “Such a good girl, taking me so well. That’s it, sweet thing, you’re almost there, just relax—“

By the time her hips meet your ass, she’s stuffed you so fully that you’ve already gone brainless. Your pussy squeezes and clenches around the false cock like a vise, tight enough that even drawing back is a challenge for Yukong. But she doesn’t, and lets you adjust to the length inside you first, her fingers traveling beneath you to tap on your clit to get you to relax.

Pleasure and an aching fullness buzzes throughout your body, and it is nothing but pure instinct that eventually drives you to rock back and forth on her cock. Yukong chuckles softly above you, her free hand gently tilting your head to the side. Her pupils blow wide as she notes your already fucked-out expression, and she kisses you with just the slightest hint of teeth as she starts to slowly pump her cock in and out of you.

The movement pushes breathless moans from your lips that Yukong devours greedily. The sound of your wet cunt taking her is the only thing she can hear, her sharp, foxian ears swiveled to focus only on you. She has to consciously pace herself, pulling back to nuzzle against your nape and drawing deep breaths through her mouth. If she breathed in any more through her nose, the scent of your slick would drive her to wildness and she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from pounding you into the bed.

But there’s always time for that in the future. For now, she moves slowly but rhythmically, hips slapping against your ass with each thrust. You babble her name in between whiny moans, your fingers clawing into the sheets.

“You’re doing so well,” she praises breathlessly, eyes flicking back to your cunt to see the way you spread around her cock, and it sends a bolt of need right down to her own cunt. “So good for me, darling, taking me so well. Such a good girl, aren’t you?”

You make a loud, keening noise at that, toes curling, and Yukong knows you’re close. She smiles against your shoulder, forgoing her slow, deep strokes for small, sharp thrusts as she’s buried fully within you. Her finger on your clit doesn’t let up either, and soon enough you’re squirming on her cock, that familiar tightness in your tummy ready to snap.

“Go ahead, darling,” Yukong croons, her teeth ghosting the soft flesh of your nape. “Come.”

And you do, beautifully, your cunt bearing down on her cock with enough force you nearly push her out. A white ring forms at her base, and Yukong swallows thickly as her throat dries at the sight. She manages steady, languid thrusts to work you through the daze of pleasure until you slump boneless into the sheets, utterly satiated. You whimper as she pulls out with a wet, slick sound, and she kisses your shoulder in apology.

“Come here,” she coos, discarding the strap somewhere on the bed and gathering you into her arms. You’re hardly able to move, all the sense having been fucked out of you, and Yukong chuckles at the sight, brushing a few strands of hair out of your eyes. “Good?”

You only answer with a pleased hum, snuggling close into her neck. Yukong smiles fondly as she cards her fingers through your hair, nose pressed to your temple to inhale your scent.

Seems like her strap will be seeing more action now.

[jen-with-a-pen]

Dancing in the Kitchen

summary: After the worst night imaginable, your best friend helps you when you need him most. What you don't realize is just how much you've always needed him. or: Tony Dumps you. Steve picks you up and puts you back together.

parings: protective!best friend!Steve Rogers x best friend!f!Reader

word count: 4.9k

warnings: fluff, angst, self-doubt and insecurity, verbally abusive relationship elements, insults + language/name calling, reader cusses and so does Steve bc he can, no smut!, wearing Steve's clothes (very little to no description about reader's body so do with that what you will), intense feelings, confessions, crying, anxiety, best friends to lovers, intimate touch, VERY SLIGHT possessiveness, protectiveness, not Tony Stark friendly, cap quartet mention

a/n: these characters are out of college! It's set in their early-mid 20s following graduating and I thought it'd be a little more relatable (also since I'm not in college anymore I wanted this specific fic concept to be more relatable. self-indulgence and stuff). the cap quartet rent a house together. there might be more shenanigans in the future involving them. maybe. who knows? enjoy <3

If I've missed any tags, please let me know!

gif by @annislittleshopofhorrors | dividers by @saradika-graphics | warning banner by me ♥

my ao3 | my masterlist Read this fic HERE on ao3! ♥Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated as always♥

Everything was cold. 

Everything was ruined.

Everything was a fucking nightmare.

Dark clouds shrouded the night sky, hiding helpful moonlight. Rain pelted at you from above, mixing with fresh tears, drenching you to the bone as cold water collected on your skin and soaked through your dress. Your hands morphed into balled fists at your sides as you shook with rage, heartbreak, and the innate need to punch something.

You couldn’t wrap your pounding head around the events of the night; everything blurred together after ten o’clock. It was like a cruel joke, one where you waited an eternity for the punchline, begging for it not to be real no matter how hard you screwed your eyes shut and prayed. 

You didn’t want to believe it, yet there you were.

It sure as hell wasn’t the first time you found yourself standing at the backdoor of Steve Roger’s house on the cusp of a breakdown– and a breakup– warring with your own body to simply knock on the fucking door. Hell, Steve was already expecting you. He knew something was wrong the second you called; there wasn’t a warning text, just you, asking in a choked-up whisper if he was home. His response spilled out in a rushed ‘yes’ before you could explain further. A ‘no questions asked’ request, something not uncommon in your friendship. Steve, since day one, was one of your main sources of comfort within a thousand mile radius. 

Now, he was your only source of comfort within a thousand mile radius. 

Remnants of the phone call from Tony only minutes earlier echoed in your eardrums like a bad case of tinnitus. Annoying, repetitive. His hoarse, drunken slurry of vicious words clawed at the inside of your skull. Another fight. Another screaming match. Another forgotten birthday– this time, it included meeting your family. You’d planned it for months prior, making sure Tony knew not to forget it.

Your insides were twisting in knots as you waited at the restaurant awkwardly with your parents, brother, and an empty seat next to you. After an hour, eight failed calls and fifteen texts later, Tony finally picked up. Delight revived the few butterflies left in your stomach, only to be crushed, turning them into weighted dread as loud club music obliterated your ear drum as he shouted at you. 

“You bitch!” he spat. “Why the ever-loving f-fuck are y’blowin’ up my phone for?!”

You didn’t have time to process what he was saying before he’d already reloaded and shot you with more.

“What the hell is sooooo important? Huh? Y-you stupid bitch! You fuckin’ knew I’m busy t’night!”

You tore the phone away. Even at arm’s length, you, and the rest of your family, could hear every single thing he spewed at you. A couple from the table next to yours stopped mid-bite to turn and throw rude looks at you and your family.

“Tony, please, I–” 

“‘Tony please’– just shut up!” he mocked. “Just shut the fuck up! I don’t fuckin’ care what you gotta– what you have t’say! I can’t f–fuckin’ stand you anymore!”

Hurt and hunger morphed into churning waves of anxiety and embarrassment. Your throat was closing. Tears began stinging your eyes. You looked between your parents in shame, meeting their stunned looks filled with pity and disappointment. Your brother refused to look anywhere but the spot on his plate where he played with his food, sadness and second-hand embarrassment plaguing his face.

Yelling, jeering, and chanting echoed out of your phone. Tony didn’t stop. 

“Y’know what? I’m not doin’ this anymore,” he slurred, gulping some unknown liquid down, swallowing, gagging. More cheering. “We– we’re fuckin’ done. You’re out. I’m done.”

The other line fumbled. You winced as you heard Tony wet his lips, preparing the final blow. His breathing became heavy, ragged, hard enough you could smell the liquor through the phone.

“Fuckin’ cunt.” 

Click.

You loathed yourself for tolerating him; the endless cycle of poisoning you, providing the antidote, and taking it away when it seemed to get better. The whiplash from his unpredictable moods and personal attacks on you hurt as bad as it felt when he’d come around with endless apologies– accompanied by flowers, cuddles, and kisses– to heal each wound he was responsible for. 

This time, though, the stab was fatal. This time, you bled out; it’d been akin to getting gutted and hung helplessly in front of your fucking family. 

A sob snuck its way up your throat. You choked it down, willing your fist to reach up and knock on the door. You didn’t understand why this was next to impossible. Steve was your best friend. It wasn’t like he was a stranger. It wasn’t like he’d chastise you or yell at you or tell you to fuck off. Yet, there was a fear, deep down, feeding on the anxiety and self-doubt in the pit of your stomach, telling you the opposite; it whispered to you, telling you to run back to your car, scream into the steering wheel, and speed off to disappear from everything and everyone for just a little longer. It’d only be until you got your head on straight, until you figured out what to do with the apartment and your classes and your stuff and–

Knock. knock. knock.

In the blur of a million thoughts racing through your mind, you automatically reached up and weakly knocked, body tensing every muscle as you waited.

The door swung open, revealing one extremely concerned Steve Rogers.

Steve panted, a result from sprinting down the stairs from his upstairs bedroom in an attempt to open the back door by your first knock. Acutely aware of his jaw hanging from its hinges, Steve’s soft baby blues bore into you, scanning you up and down, stunned at you and your dress and how desperate you looked. 

Time stopped the second you saw him; it was difficult to describe, but everything magnetizing between the two of you was different. You felt different– different in the way he was familiar and somehow new at the same time. Steve felt different– different in the way you were single for the first time in two years and he was single since… forever ago.

This time was unlike the million other times.

You both stared. Your lips quivered, his parted in disbelief. Both your minds instantly went blank, unable to think of anything to say, to do. So, the sky thought for you. It opened its floodgates, releasing a torrential downpour as you stood inches from warmth, from comfort.

“Steve,” you croaked, reaching for him. 

It was then, everything came crashing down. 

You crumbled to the ground in a heap, knees buckling while your hand and arms braced for impact with the ground. Steve quickly abandoned his tight grip on the doorframe, catching you, helping you inside. Lungs gasped for air as heavy sobs poured from your chest and tears flowed steadily down your face. You pawed at Steve’s arm hooked around you as he stumbled back into the house, kicking the door closed and collapsing onto the kitchen floor with you in tow. He immediately pulled you closer and hugged you tightly against his chest. You heaved, crying out from the painful pit in your heart, digging your fingers into his flesh, hard enough to bruise. You buried your face into his t-shirt and bawled.

All of it– the rage, the hurt, the mess of balled-up emotions from the last two fucking years– came unraveled. Hands twisted into Steve’s t-shirt, balling the fabric and pulling it taut enough to rip. 

Steve didn’t shout. He didn’t complain. He didn’t utter a single word as he leaned against the kitchen cabinets, rocking you gently, squeezing you harder as his chest rose and fell rhythmically against your pounding skull, silently coaxing you to follow his breathing. Blubbering in his lap, stringing words together became futile as thoughts became unrecognizable. Another wave of panic and anxiety crashed over you. Steve’s mumbled shushes softened you; the deep timbre and honeyed bass of his voice and vibrations in his chest grounded you, welcoming you to safety. To home. 

“Shh… don’t worry, I got you. I have you. You’re okay,” he muttered, running a hand gently up and down your back.

“I–he–bu–” you fumbled, lip quivering as another sob overtook you. Rage clawed at the walls in the chasm of your chest. You screamed. Guttural, pained. Again. And again.

“Shh… it’s okay, let it out. You’re okay. You’re safe here,” he soothed, rocking you, adding in a lowered octave, “I’m here.”

“T–Tony,” you hiccuped, fists twisting more of Steve’s t-shirt. “He–he–”

“What, angel? What about Tony?” 

“He–he c–called me n–names a–and,” you shook your head violently, “he b-broke up with me. For real, this time.”

Steve cupped your cheek, softly wiping away fresh tears with calloused fingertips. While you continued to cry in his arms, his focus turned to the back door you tumbled through. Inside, he seethed; his rage nearly boiled over at the thought of anyone doing this to you, let alone Tony fucking Stark. Out of all the things you’d told him over the last couple years– all the threats, the cruel jokes and abandonment and insults– tonight was the ultimate cherry on top. It validated every time Tony’s actions made Steve think vengeful thoughts on what he’d do if he ever got five minutes with the douchebag. Just five minutes. Alone. 

He shook the thought away, looking back down to you. The last thing he wanted was for you to see him upset, let alone remotely think you were the cause of it. He’d promised himself that the first time you met.

Tony was going to fucking pay for what he’d done to you every single second for the last two years. And on your birthday, for chrissake. 

“What–” Steve swallowed the excess rage in his chest. “What kind of names, sweetie?”

You softened, sniffling, refusing to look at him. “He called me a b–bitch, a–and,” you bit your tongue, “a… cunt.”

The moment the word left your lips, Steve fought every last nerve in him not to put you to bed, get in his car, and go teach Tony a lesson on some fucking manners. Hell, even the idea of taking Bucky and Sam crossed his mind. 

He pushed the thought away, focusing back on you. You needed him. You came to him for help. No one else but him. 

Steve slid his hand off your back and placed it under your chin, thumb and forefinger gently coaxing you to look at him. Big blue eyes swam with concern and worry. In the dark of the kitchen, they seemed brighter than ever– a beacon guiding you back from the hurricane in your head.

In an instant, everything in your head went quiet. No more muffled echoes from the phone call. No more sobs readying to burst out your chest. No more caring about how swollen and puffy your eyes were, or the drying combination of mascara and tear stains running down your cheeks and neck. Your sopping wet dress that drenched the floor, and Steve, was pushed to the back of your brain, the cold no longer leaking into your bones as he brought you back down from the ledge.

All you saw was Steve. All you smelled, all you could feel, was Steve. 

Steve swallowed. His jaw slacked, tongue jutting out to wet his lips, slowly drinking you in for as long as he was able. 

And honestly? You couldn’t care enough to stop him. It’d been so long since someone looked at you the way Steve did.

Had he always looked at you like that?

“Listen to me. You are none of those things. Not even close,” he whispered, hoping you believed him. 

You nodded lightly. “I–I know, but it hurts,” your voice cracked again, eyes drifting away from him. 

“Hey, look at me,” he tugged at your chin, “you will never be anything like he says you are. Ever. Okay?”

You stared at him. A small smile pulled at the corners of your lips as you placed a hand on his, taking it from your chin to your chest. Warmth bloomed as it rested against your damp skin. 

“‘Kay.” Barely a whisper. Enough for only him to hear.

He paused, gaze holding steady on you, lips twitching at the corners. 

“Let’s get you up ‘n out of that thing, yeah?” He nodded to your dress. “You gotta be freezing.”

Gently, he lifted you off his lap, rising from the kitchen floor and pulling you up on your feet. Your legs felt like a wobbly blend of jelly and nerves that forced you to lean onto Steve for support. He anticipated this, catching you and gripping your shoulders. You didn’t say a word. Instead, you clung to him as he guided you through the living room and up the stairs to his bedroom. You passed by Sam and Bucky’s rooms, both empty for the night, just like Natasha’s downstairs. 

As Steve rifled through his drawers and closet, your focus wandered to his messy desk: the lamp cast a soft, warm glow across the room, sitting next to history books and sketchbooks stacked high on top of one another; pencils and dirtied paint brushes littered the surface, products of his latest art assignment. His bed was half-made, dark green covers on one side neatly tucked in while the opposite was thrown aside, exposing gray pinstripe sheets. The walls were covered with scattered art– some his, others his favorite artists’– posters and pictures of family, friends, and some local bands. You bit back a smile. Memories of the shows you both went to over the last few years played like a highlight reel in your mind. You never regretted it; you never passed up a single invite, even after the time Tony locked you out for a whole weekend. 

“Here, these are clean,” he handed you a neatly folded pile of his clothes before adding, “I promise.”

A fuller smile broke across your face. The first of the entire night.

“Uh huh, sure, I believe you,” you joked sarcastically. He feigned hurt, scoffing at your false accusation.

“I did the sniff test, if that makes you feel any better.”

You giggled, taking the clothes from him and turning to head to the bathroom.

“I’ll be down in the kitchen,” he called after you. “You, um, you want something to drink?”

You paused, turning to look at him from the bathroom doorway halfway down the hall. From where he stood, the saturated pink creeping up his neck and reaching his face was more visible than the light on his desk. You couldn’t help but hold in a snicker and flash him a relieved smile, thankful.

“Coffee would be a godsend, right now.”

Steve smiled, saluting you. “Coming right up.”

You headed into the bathroom, tossing the clothes onto the counter, slumping against the door the second you shut and locked it. Finally relaxing, you realized how much tension was pent up in your tired shoulders– which, in turn, prompted the realization you were holding your breath the entire time in Steve’s room. 

Brushing the self-induced lightheadedness, you slipped the ruined dress off your body and hung it up on the shower rod. You hated the color, the texture, but wore it anyway. For Tony. On your birthday.

You cursed yourself, pulling your bra off next– a pushup that held your rib cage hostage the entire night. Just how Tony likes it. 

Or, liked it.

You silently prayed Steve included some Bailey’s in your coffee. 

Pulling on Steve’s sweatshirt, the scent of him enveloped you instantly. You couldn’t help but nuzzle into the neck of it, filling your lungs with the familiarity of Steve. He was a quiet, sunny Sunday morning and freshly brewed coffee. He was a nice night in watching your favorite movies and playing cards. 

Your head was swimming, swirling, caught up in the entirety of your best friend. He was yours just as much as you were his. Through Tony, through other guys you’d subjected yourself to the last few years, none of them compared to Steve. 

You tugged the sweatpants on, catching sight of yourself in the mirror and realizing the runny makeup staining your face. You snorted at how fucking ridiculous you looked, remembering the caked-on layers you’d put on for the evening. Again, just for Tony. The snort turned into a giggle, utterly grateful for Steve not making fun of how you looked and for ignoring the mascara stains on his poor t-shirt from earlier.

But, again, it was Steve. He’d never make fun of you. Ever.

Butterflies– the ones you’d thought were long gone months prior– stuttered suddenly, alive and fluttering in your stomach. 

You instantly recognized the feeling: it was the same you had the day you met Steve.

The same feeling you’d get on roller coasters, or reading an exceptionally good romance novel. Giddiness, dizziness. It was as if you were spinning while the room stood still. Your head felt light, high on helium. Your skin burned. Meeting your own gaze in the mirror, you scanned yourself, the question ‘is this happening right now?’ running on a loop at the forefront of your mind. 

Bzzt.

You jumped at the buzz of a text. With the trance broken, you took into account your shaking hands and the bumping tempo of your heart. Turning on the sink, you made sure the water was as cold as possible before cupping some in your hands and splashing your face. Refreshing. Needed. You rubbed the rest of the runny wakeup off your skin, stuffing your face into the fluffy hand towel and silently promising to get the boys a new one. Picking up your phone, teeth chewed on cheek to hold in your smile at the sight of Steve’s name on the screen.

⍟ Steve: You doing OK? Coffees ready 

You looked at yourself in the mirror.

“You got this,” you told your reflection. “He’s only your best friend.”

The butterflies continued to multiply, bumping against one another, fluttering and escaping out into your chest and your limbs. 

“Fuck.”

You opened the door. 

⋆˙ઇଓ⋆⭒˚｡⋆

“I was beginning to think you climbed out the window up there,” Steve quipped upon seeing you round the corner into the kitchen. He couldn’t help the stupid grin spreading across his face when he saw you in his clothes. You looked more relaxed, more comfortable.

More like you. 

You noticed he changed, too, donning a heather-gray t-shirt that clung to his torso in all the right ways– ways you hadn’t noticed before.

You mentally scolded yourself.

“A–Almost. But I’d never pass up a cup of world-famous Rogers Roast.”

“Wow, world-famous? I would’ve preferred universally-renowned, but I’ll take it.” He held a mug out to you, one faded with a ‘I ❤ New York’ logo– the one you’d gotten for him during your senior-year college internship. “Made it just how you like it.” 

He paused as you took a sip. You could feel his eyes on you, watching you, biting his lip in anticipation as you drank. The coffee tasted like liquid gold, warm and comforting and all-around delicious. You didn’t care if you burnt your tongue. This was what you needed. 

He was what you needed. 

Was he?

You looked back up at Steve. His cheeks flushed as he pressed his lips together, entranced with the mug in your hands, eyes ever-so-slightly flitting from it to your lips and back again. 

“Thank you, Stevie.” 

“You’re welcome, angel.”

You pinched yourself, then took another sip.

Silence fell, comfortable and calm, as you both nursed your drinks, checking your phones and letting time pass. You didn’t care to check the clock. 

Steve cleared his throat and set his phone down. 

“So, um,” he began. “What else did you have planned for your birthday?” 

His voice was low, tender, careful with the question so as not to upset you. He was curious, however, and determined to see exactly how much Tony fucked up your night.

And your life.

“Oh,” you swallowed, chewing your lip in an attempt to remember what you’d originally planned.

“He was, ah, gonna take me dancing. After dinner, after he,” you took an unsteady breath, “after he met my family. It was the one thing he told me he'd let me do after dinner.” You shook your head, adding under your breath, “besides him.”

Tension seeped into the space between you both. You didn’t want to meet Steve’s stare; it was the one you’d always see whenever you told him about Tony, one filled with anger so palpable it made his arms flex subconsciously, one he thought he hid well enough so you never saw, but you always did. Without looking up, you already knew his jaw was clenched and his shoulders were stiff and his eyes bored a hole into the wall behind you. Butterflies started to somersault, crashing into the waves of worry and anxiety. 

“Why?”

You looked up. Blue eyes. Stormy, swirling, stubborn.

“What?”

“Why did you stay with him?” Steve asked steadily, voice barely above a whisper. His Adam’s apple bobbed.

You paused. “Because he wouldn’t let me leave.”

“I could’ve helped you. We could’ve helped you,” he gestured vaguely to the rest of the house.

Your teeth tore into your bottom lip. Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry.

“I–” Steve sighed and carded a hand through his dirty blond hair, frustrated, trying to keep his promise while also appealing to you and balancing the fragile tightrope you two stood on. “I care about you, angel. I care about you so fuckin’ much. I just wanna know why. Why he was– why you were–”

“I–” Don’t fucking cry. “I was trapped. Every time I tried to leave, he’d tie me down more. It… it wasn’t as easy as you fucking think, Steve. Rose-colored glasses, wool over my eyes, wolf in sheep's clothing, that sorta thing, ya know? These last couple years, I… I don’t know why tonight was it, and I don’t know how I was able to get out, and I just… I don’t fucking know. I don’t. I–” 

You felt tears again. 

“I– Angel, I wasn’t trying to–”

“No, I know,” you cut him off, setting down your mug to rub your face in your hands. “I know. But I need you to understand that I– God, my fucking brain feels so scrambled. I just feel so confused, I feel like I’m going insane right now. Fuck!” 

You tried to calm down, taking deep breaths to feed your strained lungs, holding on to each before exhaling. In, hold, out, repeat. 

The room was spinning again, whirling around like a sick carnival ride as your center of gravity began to give.

As you braced the counter, strong hands and warm, muscular arms engulfed you, lifting you back from the countertop and guiding you into the middle of the kitchen. Steve pressed into you until you relented, reaching your arms around him and pulling him closer. The tension in your shoulders melted, migrating to your chest where your heart surged the moment he touched you, where it pounded against your sternum, threatening to break out of its marrow cage. You inhaled him, savoring him, feeling him all around you.

Slowly, delicately, Steve unwrapped from you. He was careful with every touch, as if he would shatter you– even though he had no problem with putting you back together again. He’d done it a million times before, and he’d do it a million times again.

He’d do it all again for you. 

Steve carefully slid your hands from around his center, placing one onto his shoulder, then– nervously and ever-so-slowly– he held your other hand out, sliding down your forearm and entwining his fingers into yours. His free hand fell softly onto your waist, fingers absently and lightly kneading the fabric and skin underneath his palm.

“May I have this dance?” he whispered.

You looked up from the floor to Steve, speechless. You nodded.

Then, he started to sway. He guided you both, rocking side to side to an unheard rhythm and subtly spinning in unison under the soft glow of the kitchen light.

He smiled softly, boyish and genuine, with admiration and tenderness in his eyes. Something gentle and kind, something about the feeling and the familiarity of it– of him– sank into you the longer you looked at him. Your focus shifted around the features of his chiseled face. You recognized the light freckles stippled across his nose and cheeks leftover from the summer; the scar on his earlobe from the night Natasha drunkenly dared you to pierce his ear and failed; the faint worry lines sculpted into his forehead he inherited from his father; the soft, full pink of his lips that innocently parted when you caught him staring at you.

It was the feeling that felt foreign to you; the one missing from your life after the last two years. But, it wasn’t missing. It had been right in front of you the entire time stealing glances, accidental touches, and irreplaceable memories.

Steve had been there. 

Steve had been the one looking at you like that for the last two years. 

He wasn’t missing. He was just waiting his turn. 

And, judging by the realization that washed over your face, his waiting was over. 

Steve's smile widened as he squeezed your waist, wordlessly confirming the thoughts running rampant in your head. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed the ghost of a cry, blinking away tears forming in the corners of his vision. 

Your lips trembled as you smiled back. Slowly, you snaked your hand from his shoulder to his cheek and cupped his face. He leaned into your touch instantly, stubble and skin rubbed against your palm as he kissed it lightly. The press of his lips sent a spark coursing through your veins, electrifying your body and the air around you. The two of you continued to sway while the kitchen spun faster, a blurred whirlwind while you both remained in focus.

“When?” you asked, voice barely audible.

“Since the day I met you.”

“Why didn’t you–”

Steve shrugged. “I wanted to get to know you first. Didn’t wanna be some random dude who just wanted you for your number. You seemed too special to rush into something. Still are,” he sighed. “I wanted to be your friend first, but before I could muster up some courage, Tony swept you out from under me.” 

Guilt crawled up your throat. “I– I’m sorry, Stevie.”

He stepped away from you, twirling you, then dragged you back to him. You could’ve sworn your heart stopped beating. 

“No, baby, you don’t have anything to be sorry for. I promise. I–” his voice broke. “I wanted you to be happy. I want you to be happy. I just– I wish I did more for you. I should’ve done more for you.”

He tilted his head to the ceiling trying to stop his tears from falling, but you pulled him right back down to you. 

“Steve,” you started, keeping on his baby blues while your own voice struggled to remain steady, “you’ve done more for me than anyone else in the entire world. Hell, in my entire life. I just lost the last two years of my life suffering with someone I thought I loved. Who I thought loved me.”

You brought your other hand to his face. “You did all you could. I just… I thought it was gonna get better, you know? I thought, I hoped– God, I even fucking prayed– that he’d get better, but he didn’t. Nothing did. And I couldn’t find a way out. It’s like he conditioned me to believe he was the only one I had, like, he was the only one who’d ever save me.”

Steve frowned, but nodded in understanding. 

“I’m glad you came to me. Not just tonight, but every night. It was like reassuring me that I didn’t totally lose you, or like I never totally lost you.”

“You’ll never lose me, Stevie.”

His face, red-hot underneath your touch, moved closer to yours. You couldn’t tell if you were pulling or he was pushing. His hands gripped your waist the tighter you held his face, the two of you crashing into one another in slow-motion. The light above you grew brighter, the humming of the appliances was getting louder, the room spun at an infinitely unfathomable speed. 

You crashed together. 

Soft lips– softer than either of you could’ve ever pictured feeling– fit together like the perfect puzzle pieces. Neither of you moved, staying locked together until your hands slipped around his neck, pulling him closer and smashing his nose into your cheek. His grip became bruising as his fingers kneaded into your waist, steadying himself with your hips. You felt another surge of electricity as his tongue jutted out, parting your lips and swiping along the bottom before retreating back behind his.

He tipped you backwards on your heel, smirking against your lips as you flinched and grabbed onto the collar of his shirt. 

Setting you upright, he pulled away from the kiss and whispered, “I’ll never let you go.”

“Never?” 

“Ever.”

You kissed him again, and the butterflies went wild. 

[ihavemanyhusbands]

Honey Bun (18+ Series)

Aaron Hotchner x Stripper!Reader

Part 3 // MINORS DNI

WC: 3.1k words

Song Inspo: Bop it Up! - The Marías (this song is sooooo)

Series Warnings: Eventual smut, bit of an age gap (placing reader at around 25-26), cursing, alcohol consumption, formalized sex work (Stripper/Pole Dancer), occasional angst, drama. In this chapter specifically -- oral (m receiving), p in v, dirty talking, tittyfuck, aaaand that's all I can think of rn, but lmk if I missed anything!

A/N: Hahahaha this got a little too self-indulgent for a moment sorry about that but anyways pls enjoy hee hee

Out in the main room, Gia was draped on the lap of her favorite regular —  A ruggedly handsome playboy that oozed charm and mischief, pearly white teeth glinting in the neon lighting. Derek was his name, and he was a rare exception to the sea of shitty patrons that came into the Crimson Lounge. 

While he didn’t stop by all too often, he always tried to make time to see Gia. He treated her like a queen, really. He bought her presents and kept in touch with her, so that she wouldn’t think he forgot about her.

He was generous with his tips, always making sure to give you some when you were on stage, too. Sometimes, he’d even get the VIP room for an hour just to get you and Gia out of the main floor, even if all the three of you did was talk. But that’s not to say things were always rated PG. 

You supposed at that point, you could consider him a friend of sorts, as well.

“Hello there, lovebirds,” you smirked at them, perching on the armrest of the seat next to theirs.

“Hey, Honey Bunny,” said Derek, adopting the nickname Gia gave you. “Busy night?”

“Never too busy for you two.”

Gia leaned her temple against his, smiling wide. “Derek was just being a big cheeseball.”

He chuckled. “What, can’t I tell you I missed you? It’s been a while, Gigi.”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “You guys are cute.”

“There’s enough love to go around, Honey,” Derek smirked.

“Save it. I’m allergic.”

“Oh, please,” Gia scoffed. “I’ve seen you heart-eyed before.”

You raised an eyebrow. “When?”

“With me, silly. Obviously.” She shook her head, bending closer to Derek’s ear to fake whisper, “Don’t let her fool you, she’s a big softie on the inside.”

His smirk only grew. “Trust me, I know.”

Once more, you rolled your eyes, swatting at them playfully. You still hadn’t told her about Aaron, but you were sure she could see the dreamy sort of infatuation in your eyes whenever your thoughts drifted to him. You hadn’t yet been on another date with him, but you couldn’t wait to see him again. 

Eventually, you would probably have to tell him about this job… if things even got that far. A part of you wanted to stall things so that you could keep seeing him for longer. You weren’t sure how he would react, and a part of you feared that he’d simply cut you off. If that were the case, he wouldn’t really be worth keeping around anyway.

It would hurt, yes, but you wouldn’t ever let anyone shame you for anything you chose to do. 

“We really need to get her a man, though,” she insisted. “Don’t you have a friend you could set her up with?”

“None that are worthy,” he said, but then thought about it. “Well, except maybe one or two.”

“It’s okay, baby,” you said, reaching over to pat his knee in appreciation. “Trust me, I can get my own.”

They both raised their eyebrows in amusement, sharing a look.

“I know you can,” Derek conceded. “If you change your mind, though, I can bring one to you. Hell, I can bring them both to you.”

—————————————-

“Are you going to be home late tonight?” Sadie asked from the doorway. “I’m going out, too, and I just wanted to know if you’d be here after me or….”

“Probably,” you shrugged, glancing over at her. “Wait, is that my shirt?”

“…Maybe. I’ll wash it, I promise.”

You sighed in resignation, letting it go for the time being.

“Actually, I don’t even know if I’ll be home at all tonight.”

“Ooooh, I thought it was just a lil date,” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

You rolled your eyes. “You know how dates can end.”

Aaron had invited you over to watch movies at his place, promising he would cook for you. It’d be your first date in private, which made it all the more exciting. You rarely accepted dates at somebody’s house, but this was Aaron you were talking about!

You knew he wouldn’t try any funny business — unless that’s what you wanted (which it was) — so that made you feel more at ease. Well, for the most part, since you were practically vibrating with anticipation, too.

“Oh my god, you’re like, shaking,” she said teasingly, wagging her eyebrows suggestively. “You like this one, don’t you?”

You huffed in frustration, fixing your ponytail. You’d opted to dress cute but comfortable, finally having a night off to yourself. You couldn’t even remember the last time you wore plain leggings and a sweatshirt, but at that moment, you wished you never had to wear anything else.

“What’s with everyone suddenly thinking I’m a hopeless romantic or something?” 

“I don’t know, dude. I haven’t seen you like this about someone in a while.”

“Whatever, Sadie,” you said, deciding to change the subject. “Where are you going anyways?”

“It’s Nena’s twenty-first, remember?” she said, shouldering you a little to the side so she could also look in the mirror. “We’re going to the Duchess, so don’t worry, I’m sure Jo’s gonna keep an eye on us.”

Your phone buzzed on the dresser, and you saw it was a text from Aaron saying he was outside.

“Well, just be careful, okay? And don’t drink too much,” you said, kissing her temple as you grabbed your stuff.

“Have fuuun~” she said in a sing-song voice. “Oh! And can I borrow your leather jacket?”

“Yes, as long as you don’t scratch it!” You yelled over your shoulder, practically skipping towards the door.

——————-

Upon arrival, Aaron hung up his keys and his jacket, hovering close to you.

“Welcome to my humble abode,” he said, vaguely gesturing around.

“Wow, your place is really nice,” you said as you took off your shoes by the door.

That was an understatement. His house was immaculate, really, with hardwood floors and modest decorations. He had nice furniture, but nothing too flashy or extravagant. You already knew he had money, but it was clear he didn’t much care to flaunt it.

“I can give you a tour after dinner,” he offered. “I finished preparing everything earlier, just need to heat it up.”

“Need any help?”

“No, no, don’t worry about it. You just sit back and relax, let me spoil you.”

You couldn’t help but smile slyly. “Spoil me, huh? Careful, Aaron. I just might get used to it.”

He smirked a little. “That’s the plan.”

From the adjacent living room, you watched him putter around in the kitchen, placing a dish in the oven and opening a bottle of red wine. He whistled a little as he worked, and you saw the flex of his muscles under his shirt. Your eyes trailed down to his exposed forearms, since he’d rolled up his sleeves.

Suddenly you were very hungry, but food was the last thing on your mind.

He brought you a glass and sat next to you on the couch, clinking his glass with yours. His body was angled to face you, arm resting behind you. You adjusted yourself, scooting just a little bit closer in the process.

“I’m surprised I was able to pull you away from work,” he said. “I’m really glad you could make some time for me in your busy agenda.”

“Oh, please,” you grinned, taking a sip of wine. “You act like I’m the only one.”

He chuckled. “I’ll give you that, but I did call off in advance.”

“So did I. Plus, doesn’t that make this time together even sweeter?”

He nodded, his eyes roaming over your face. He leaned forward to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

“It sure does.”

You couldn’t help yourself, so you met him halfway and planted a kiss on his lips. It was quick and innocent, but it left enough of a promise that there would be more to come. 

At that moment, the oven’s timer dinged, indicating that the food was ready. The two of you moved over to the dining table, which was neatly set, lit candles and all. He’d made pasta primavera and some rosemary chicken, which smelled heavenly. Not only did you love how much effort he put into it, but also the fact he was genuinely a good cook. He smiled when your eyes fluttered close after the first bite, humming in delight.

Dinner was a breeze, where you swapped stories and joked around, hands often coming together. They were so thrilling, those little touches; So incredibly intimate in their simplicity. 

Perhaps it was then that the foreplay really started, before you even kissed him again. 

You patted your belly as he cleared the table, smiling beatifically. At that moment, you wanted nothing more than to languish with him, your body warm from not just the wine.

“You know how they say that the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach?” You said. “I think that applies to women, too.”

He glanced at you over his shoulder, his smile mirroring yours. “I told you my nefarious plans from the beginning.”

You couldn’t help but giggle as he came back from the kitchen, leading you back towards the couch. God, now you were giggling too!? This wasn’t helping your case at all. You could picture Sadie and Gia’s smug smirks clear as day.

“Well, safe to say you succeeded.”

In a small act of boldness, you propped your legs up on his lap as soon as he sat next to you. He was so warm, too, and all you wanted was to sink into him. But the amount of restraint you two had held onto so far was kind of fun, almost like teasing. His hand came to rest on your knee, thumb lightly tracing it. 

“So, do you have a movie in mind?” You asked, propping a cushion behind you and lying back on it.

He looked over at you, his eyes flicking down your body before returning to your face. “I could think of a few. What kind do you like?”

“Wait, oh my god, crazy request, but have you ever seen Bram Stoker’s Dracula?” You asked excitedly, propping up on your elbows. “The Coppola one. It’s one of my favorite movies, sooo fucking campy!”

“You’re cute when you’re excited,” he said, and his eyes seemed to gleam with affection as he started looking for it on his smart TV. “Anyways, I haven’t seen it, but now I really think I should.”

“Prepare to be absolutely blown away.”

Once he found the movie, you were more focused on his reactions rather than the actual film. You tried to watch, you really did, but it was impossible to look away from him. The elegant column of his throat, the clean cut of his jaw, the dark fan of his lashes…

His thumb absently continued its slow caresses on your knee, and you surreptitiously slid closer, so now your thighs were on his lap. He looked down at you then, his eyes pitch black in the low light, desire like a living thing behind them.

Your restraint broke then and there.

You sat up, cupping the back of his head and bringing him into your ravenous kiss. On the screen, Mina and Dracula were also kissing after he finally confessed his undying devotion for her. You moaned a little as he pulled you up so you could straddle him properly. 

You raked your fingers through his hair as his tongue found yours. It wasn’t so much a kiss as it was a devouring, all the anticipation finally reaching its peak. He ran his hands down your back, reaching your hips as you rocked them. His breathing hitched at the friction, grip tightening.

“God… I’ve wanted this for days now,” he said, barely separating his lips from yours. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.”

“You’re telling me,” you said with the smallest laugh, capturing his lower lip with your teeth. 

He groaned into your mouth, which caused you to shudder. His hands hesitated at the hem of your sweatshirt, so you leaned back to grant him permission, raising your arms above your head. He took it off for you, tossing it to the side. 

“You’re not wearing a bra,” he rasped, seemingly surprised but also utterly delighted. 

“Obviously not, it’s my day off,” you said, nipping at his jaw, causing him to chuckle.

He moved to kiss your neck, your clavicles, your sternum, before finally his tongue encircled one of your nipples. One of your hands kept his head in place as you leaned back, eyes closing momentarily. Beneath you, his cock was rock hard, straining against his slacks. 

As he rolled your other nipple between his fingers, you rocked your hips agonizingly slow. When his teeth grazed your sensitive skin, your body jerked, and you pushed him back.

“I need this off, now,” you urged, shaking fingers unbuttoning his shirt and pulling it off of him.

You ran your hands down his hairy chest, mouth watering at the sight of his heaving breaths and his puffy lips. You licked your lips salaciously, an idea popping into your mind. 

“What do you say we turn this into a no pants party?” You purred.

He nodded eagerly, and you slid off his lap onto the floor, kneeling before him. He shifted his hips forward, and you reached to undo his belt and slacks, pulling them down. His cock sprang out, hitting his stomach. It was thick and just above average in length, with a prominent vein that you could not wait to tongue. The tip glistened with precum, and he gripped the base as your hands came to rest on his thighs. 

Teasingly, you gave the tip a couple of kitten licks, tasting the salty musk of his arousal. He sucked in a breath through his teeth, and you looked up at him through your lashes. His hips bucked involuntarily, and you smirked. 

“You like teasing me, don’t you?” he panted. “Where did my sweet Honey go?”

“I’m right here,” you breathed, pressing a kiss on his shaft before letting him feed it into your mouth. 

You flattened your tongue as you began bobbing your head slowly, taking him deeper each time. He wound your ponytail around his hand as he gently guided your head, groaning as he reached the back of your throat. You hummed around his length.

You released him momentarily, pumping him with your fist as you finally licked the entirety of that sensitive vein. His body jerked, and more precum leaked out of the tip.

“Fuck,” he gritted out, head tossed back. “That mouth of yours is heaven.”

You giggled, utterly drunk on the fact that you could give him such pleasure. You rubbed your thighs together as you leaned forward, pressing your breasts against his cock. He began shuttling it up and down immediately, and you spat down on it so it could slide even easier. 

“Such a dirty girl,” he praised, brow furrowed at all the stimulation you were subjecting him to. “I think I’ll lose my mind if I don’t fuck you soon.”

“That makes two of us.”

He gently pulled your head back as he bent to kiss you feverishly. Your tongues tangled messily, the movement of his hips erratic. Arousal was a deep well of heat in your belly, inner thighs sticky from how wet you were.

You moaned into each other’s mouths and, unable to wait any longer, you extricated yourself from him. You yanked your leggings off, along with your underwear, the two of you maintaining heavy eye contact.

You quickly grabbed a condom from your purse, opening the wrapper with your teeth before rolling it onto him. You were a responsible horndog, after all, even if you were also on birth control.

Next thing you knew, you were sinking down on his length, stretching you deliciously. You shared breath as he bottomed out, his hands on your back firmly pressing you against him. 

“God, you’re so wet and warm,” he groaned, gripping your hips once more. “You’re taking me so well, too. This pussy is so good to me.”

You began riding him slowly, adjusting to his size. He filled you up so nicely, and you couldn’t help but whimper in his ear. He kissed your shoulder and your neck, sending shivers down your spine.

Soon enough, you picked up the pace, working the entirety of his length. You pulled back, using his shoulders to steady yourself, your breasts bouncing in his face. He chased one of them with his mouth, sucking your nipple once more.

The lewd sound of skin slapping together filled the room, as well as the chorus of your moans and grunts. You could feel that familiar coil winding in your stomach, and you bit down on your bottom lip.

“F-fuck, your cock feels so fucking good. It’s so t-thick,” you mewled, back arching. “I’m so close.”

“You’re clenching me hard,” he said, pulling back and reaching between the two of you so his fingers found your clit. “Come for me, I want to feel you coming all over my cock.”

He stroked your clit in quick, tight circles, and your hips stuttered. There was no rhythm to your movements at that point, just you chasing your high.

You came undone mere moments later, crying out his name. He was whispering praises before his words melted into a low groan. You could feel his cock twitching inside of you as he also reached his peak, prolonging your orgasm.

The two of you panted heavily, foreheads leaning together. You kissed him sweetly, smiling against his lips. He rubbed your back gently, and you could feel his hammering heartbeat against your chest, in tempo with yours.

“I wanted to jump your bones from the moment I first saw you,” you confessed with a chuckle, wiping a strand of dark hair away from his forehead. “But the real thing was so much better than my fantasies.”

“Oh, so you fantasized about me, did you?” He teased, and you shifted your hips in retaliation, making him hiss. “Easy there, cowgirl. You know I wanted you just as bad.”

The two of you laughed, sharing a couple more pecks before you lifted yourself off of him, plopping back onto the cushion.

He went to clean himself off and discard the condom, coming back with some water and a wet cloth to clean you up. He’d also brought you one of his t-shirts to wear, which you immediately slipped on, inhaling the lingering scent of his cologne deeply. He pulled you to him, kissing the top of your head and wrapping his arms around you.

“We can restart the movie if you want,” he said. “I must shamefully admit I wasn’t paying any attention to it.”

You grinned impishly. “I forgive you, I also wasn’t focusing much.”

“Something tells me we might have to pause it again, especially with you looking like that.”

“Well, you won’t hear me complaining.”

[emmyrosee]

HIIIIII EMMYYY are you ready for possibly my most self indulgent rant yet?

so I actually haven’t had the best past few days and using fictional men as my comfort actually helped make me feel better a bit, soooo I’m here to share another rant in case you’re down and need this too!! :D

atsumu, the love of my life, my pride and joy, my husband, my everything tbh!! comforts you after a hard day, you’ve been down about so many things-body image (my main struggle as a not so skinny girlie tbh) not feeling good enough, missing out on stuff, whatever it is!! and when you get home you’re all teary and admit that the only thing you wanted all day was him. And he MELTS AND MAKES IT HIS MISSION TO MAKE YOU FEEL BETTER. he’d make sure you’re properly taken care of- sooooo many cuddles, the SWEETEST of sweet nothings whispered in your ear to make you ease up and feel so loved. That’s all he wants for you- he wants you to feel every single ounce of his love. He’s so set on taking care of you the best he can. Rubbing up and down your back and kissing you all over, every inch he can reach (if you’re like me with the body insecurities, he’d definitely give extra attention to those places). He’ll also do his best to make you laugh if you don’t want to talk about it. And when you wake up the next day, he’s still all sweet on you, making you breakfast and using your favourite pet names, etc. he hates when you feel sad, so he’ll be on high alert for the next couple days making sure his baby is recovering and not stuck in a bad place. I’m just so so so so soft for him always and he brought me a lot of comfort today so I wanted to share!!! There is absolutely NO RUSH to respond to this btw, please don’t feel pressured to!! ILYYYYY I HOPE YOU’RE DOING WELL !!!!

anon <3

LITERALLY LIVE LAUGH L O V I N G THIS-

Listen. ListEN TO ME DAMN IT-

ATSUMU LOVES A THICC MOMMAS AND HE KNOWS YOU KNOW THAT, OKAY??? I DONT MAKE THE RULES AND IF YOU THINK I DO, I ACTUALLY DO BC THIS IS MY KINGDOM

also just as a tiny baby tw for some potential body dismorphia, there’s nothing in detail but I know negative talk in fics can trigger it, so I just want everyone to feel safe 🥺❤️

Listen. Self esteem is something hard to maintain. And he knows that, he’s so proud of you for the strides you’ve made- but no one always loves themself. No one always loves who they are or what they see in the mirror.

And he’d rather shove a toothpick under his toenail and kick a wall than ever have you fester in these thoughts alone.

The minute your fine ass comes strutting into your house, eyes a little watery and bottom lip trembling, he instantly jumps up and wraps you up in his big arms, cradling your head and shushing you softly. He’s not gonna make you talk while you’re sobbing into his chest, though his mind is soaring a million thoughts a second to try and figure it out.

“Bad day?” He murmurs into your hair once you calm down, and you offer him a sniffle and cling to him tighter.

“They’re so… mean, ‘tsumu,” you whimper and he’s about ready to maim someone and their first born.

“Who is?”

“The little voice in my head…” you choke on your tears while Atsumu tenses up. “And telling me you’re too good for me and I’m too ugly for you and fat and-“

“Stop.”

His sharp word make you tense up, and you look up at him with watery eyes.

He wipes one of your tears with his calloused thumb, “I’m not ‘too good’ for you. That doesn’t exist. You deserve even better than anything I could give ya; and even if you don’t feel like the sexiest piece of ass on this damned planet, it’s not for you to decide if I’m ‘too good’ one day. You’re mine baby, and the universe made us for each other. So shut your fine ass up.”

It makes you giggle, but you know that there’s complete truth in his words, and with a shaky sigh you nod and let him kiss you once, twice, and a third time with only love on his lips.

But he doesn’t stop there. Nay nay.

If anything, things escalate in the best ways.

Because he already can barely keep his paws off of you, but if you’re feeling especially insecure, even for brief stints, he refuses to let your mind continue to tread.

If he’s at the stove, you’re tucked under his arm while he cooks with his dominant hand, letting his left hand soothingly stroke your arm. He makes little noises and grunts when he wants you to try a taste of whatever he’s making, and he smiles when you hum in contentment.

If you’re folding laundry, he’s gently grabbing your hand and spinning you into his arms, dancing a quick back and forth with you; it ends when he bends you into a dip, but that’s mostly because the squeal and the subtle smacking of his chest lets him know that you’ve had your fun, but you need to focus or whatever.

When you’re washing your face, his arms are looped low around you with his chin hooked over your shoulder, smacking on a silly voice to “explain” what products you’re using and how much of it to use, like a beauty guru.

When you’re finally settled in bed and he’s finishing up in the bathroom, you smile sweetly at him from over your book when he slinks back in, basketball shorts low on his hips and muscle tee clinging to his frame. Wordlessly, he leans on the edge of the bed, soft lips tracing kisses from your cheek, to suckle at your jawline and neck, and once he makes his way to your collarbones, he takes your book out of your hands while you recline back.

“Bookmark it.”

“I know what to do.”

His lips move to the valley of your breasts to leave marks just along your skin, his massive paws cradling the soft part of your belly. Your breath hitches, and he hums a soft reassurance.

“My baby,” he mumbles. “Wish I could’ve been there with you today. Kept those nasty thoughts away.”

You mewl as he buries his face against you, the unruly parts of his hair tickling you softly, “you’re here now.”

“And I’m never goin’ anywhere.” He wraps his arms around your torso to nuzzle into you, seemingly settling into a comfortable position to sleep for the night.

You giggle, “comfy?”

“Extremely,” he murmurs. “Told Meian I was spewing chunks and couldn’t come in tomorrow, so you’ve got me all to yourself.”

“Atsumu!”

“What, you think ‘Omi’s gonna let me on the court if he thinks I’m puking? He hates puke.”

“Stop saying puke,” you whine, swatting at him with some giggles. “You’re killing the mood.”

“Ah?” He hums, raising his head with a cheshire smile, “there’s a mood?” He raises back on his haunches to wrap his meaty hands around your thighs, and with a quick pull, he’s got you on your back just below him, squeals and giggles pealing from your lips.

“‘Tsum, I’m tired,” you whine, though your legs instinctively curl around him.

“Not gonna do anything,” he assures, the hands moving from your legs to brace on either side of your head. “Just like lookin’ at you… always love lookin’ at you.”

“Creep.”

He cocks a brow, “you think that’s creepy?”

“I do.”

“Well wait ‘til you hear what smellin’ ya does to me.” Before you can say anything, he ducks his head down to the soft pillowiness of your neck, taking ridiculously loud inhales through his nose. You shove at him with uncontrollable laughter, knees bumping into his back.

“You freak, get away!”

“Wait ‘til you hear what feelin’ ya does to me,” he mumbles from your neck, and in a similar fashion, his left hand comes down to claw at your sides dramatically, his sniffling now mingling with the tickling.

“S-Stop it!”

“But nothin’ quite like tastin’ ya, dollface.”

Your mind can barely process his words before he leans up to kiss the giggles straight from your mouth, his massive frame keeping you still and as if protecting you from anything you may fear.

He’s warm, he smells divine and he feels just like home, and for a moment you forget that even if you hadn’t come home and said you weren’t feeling great, there’s still a chance the night could’ve ended the same.

“Penny for your thoughts?” He whispers, nuzzling your nose with his.

You bite your lip, “I want cinnamon rolls for breakfast.”

He chuckles, “you got it boss.��

And just as atsumu always does, he holds true to that; the next morning, you wake up to the smell of vanilla and honey dancing through your home, and while part of you is bumming out for not being in your boyfriend’s arms, he’s up for you.

He does his daily affirmations with you- once again obliterating you with tickles when you snort at some of them- makes sure you eat anything you desire because he could die from the idea you’re not eating enough because of the things you try to convince yourself, and just. Being there. Holding your hand, complimenting you no matter where you are, playing hooky on his day off just to make sure you’ve got your fill and you’re right back where your sexy ass left off.

“‘Tsumu?”

“Yeah baby?”

“Thank you.”

He kisses your hairline without a second thought, wrapping an arm around you and letting you curl against him.

“Never gotta thank me for something I was born to do, babydoll.”

[pathologicalreid]

Hello there! I have just stumbled on your account and may I just say - you are sooooo talented!! I love your work so much! I saw your requests were open and couldn’t help but self indulge hehehe

I was thinking of a cute fluffy comfort kind of fic where r is taking care of Spencer after he got shot in the leg like hes getting frustrated because he’s struggling with things like he gets all settled in for bed or something and realizes that he forgot his book in the living room and instead of waking his girlfriend (which he should probably do, but the doctor if anything other then a genius is stubborn as a mule and doesn’t ) he goes out himself to the living room on crutches which takes him an annoyingly long time and then when he’s on his way back he drops his stupidly large book on his bad leg causing his girlfriend to wake up anyway and the poor kid is both in pain and frustrated to tears and his girl is like “Spence you literally got shot like a week ago? Why are you not letting me help you? I love you, will you let me take care of you how you take care of me for once so that you can get back to doing it so well?” And he just is so mushy and In loveee 🥹🫶

I’m sorry for word vomiting in your ask box I hope this is an ok request I personally when I get requests like them to be detailed hahaha

hey angelface! i just posted this request <3 find it here!

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

for the three anon questions thing :3

1. whats your mbti type?? if you know it!

2. what occupations do u think your jjk faves would have if they were in a regular world without curses… only asking this because i saw a tweet a while back asking the same thing. And someone said satoru would be a teacher who’s also a dog walker on the side. and I’ve been thinking about it for mobths it’s so cute 😭

3. do you write poetry at all? your writing is always so intimate and beautiful i feel like poetry by you would make me cry in the best way possible

hi hi anon <333 thank you for sending these in!! giving you a big smooch on the cheek

1/ infj!!!!!! :3 i think….. it’s been a while since i took that test though.

2/ GREAT QUESTION HEHE <333333 satoru would probably be a model 😭 i hate to say it but it’s true. thoughhhh i also adore the idea of him being a teacher no matter what, so i’m just gonna say that he’s a full time high school teacher who does photo shoots for fun :3 he likes…. the attention. you know how he is. BUT HIM BEING A DOG WALKER WOULD BE SOOOOO CUTE ARE YOU KIDDING ME 🥺🥺 suguru however…. hhhh i could see him being either a teacher or a lawyer. a teaching profession really would be perfect for him, but i also think public justice is something he’s very passionate about……. either one of them seems fitting!!! :3 if he’s a teacher then i think his class has the most serious beef with gojo’s class LMAO. they talk shit abt each other <333 shoko is :3 a doctor…. yeah. sorry queen. or maybe a school nurse, actually? just for the sake of sticking with stsg 🥺 she’s always there to patch any rowdy kids up and everyone adores her!!!! even if she’s a little scary sometimes….. one time stsg got into a fight when she was having a migraine and she got. really pissed. it was terrifying. she loves them though <3 aaaand then we have kenjaku………….. i’m gonna be self-indulgent and say they’re part of a famous stand up duo :3c with a certain silly guy. they’re on talk shows a lot….. kenny has almost gotten them cancelled several times <333

3/ 🥹🥹🥹 aaaa tysm anon….. i haveeee written poetry before but. i’m not confident in it at all!!!! i’m really just not good . at writing more…. compressed pieces??? idk but it feels a lot safer to write fics with flowery writing 😭 i really, really really admire anyone who writes poetry. and i love reading it soso much!!!!!

[mushiewrites]

CONRGRATS!!!! 300 followers is so cool I’m so happy for you! :D

for the fics, what inspired rise & shine and what possessed you to write Round One and The short(s) Struggle

from this milestone post / rise & shine / round one / the short(s) struggle

I am excited about explaining all of these, they are all so special to me omg elliot thank u for sending them in <3

also loving that you asked what possessed me, bc honestly I have no idea :D but whatever it was, it needs to do it again right now

rise & shine was written purely out of spite and 1000000% towards summer bc she was being a little shit and I was feeling evil.

exhibit A:

once summer told me she thought george was the meanest, I went with sap with the lee bc I hc both of them with horribly sensitive thighs, so it was always gonna be between snf since the target spot I had in mind....was thighs (gee I wonder why???????)

after that I kind of blacked out and wrote it. It was done pretty quickly, like I've mentioned before I'm way more motivated to finish something when it's targeted at someone else! (: it's just more fun and it doesn't really feel like I'm pressured to finish it or anything bc I want to sooooo bad anyways! and like I did with my other fics targeted at summer (yes there are multiple! :D) I just included things I knew got to her, and bam, good reactions!

exhibit B & C:

so yeah, this is why rise & shine was made! there was no planning in advance, nothing leading up to writing the fic, it was simply bc summer was being a little shit and I was feeling evil enough to write a reaaaaaally mean fic at her <3

I do it purely for the "MUSHIE", which I have sooooo many screenshots saved of <3

- - - - - - - -

okay......round one. okay. look. this was also for lee!george week, and it was born bc I NEEDED to do an intense tk day. it's just my branding, I needed them to destroy poor lil georgie ):

it's a litttttttttle bit self indulgent Im not gonna lie. a lot of what was written was from possibly personal experience, and I really just tried to write a lot of what I thought would be super intense tks for george (I also added in lil digs at someone but I will not be naming who <3)

I wanted to explore things that I hadn't publicly posted yet, like oil and some specific tools. I actually had a lot more plans for this fic, a lot more spots and tools and techniques, but I was running out of time, and left it off so I could revisit it as a sequel (which I absolutely am, I already have some plans written out)

but uh....mostly this one was self indulgent. I can't even lie about it, it was definitely written for me (and a few other people) more than anything 🫠

that's all I'm saying about round one (: <333333

- - - - - - - -

short struggle!!!! my tiny sap in his tiny shorts!!!!! literally was inspired by the tiny shorts he was wearing when he streamed a clothing haul when he was in LA <3 my brain chemistry has never been the same since <3

like….look at him???????

I have been saying this for half of my fics but like….I really was just mindless when I wrote this? I saw sap thighs and immediately got the idea for dream and george to latch on and never ever EVERRRRRRRR let go <3

sap is so tiny and small and a baby panda, and normally I love when people are sweet to him, but I just needed him to get his shit absolutely ROCKED in this, I have no explanation really, just that my brain went insane and I made dnf do what I wanna do to him :3

this was cals reaction in the middle of me writing the fic btw:

“why me!?” is one of my favorite lil dialogues I’ve written for sap just bc I can hear it so clearly in his lil raspy voice through his lil raspy giggles with his lil nose scrunch <3

short(s) struggle was purely bc sap couldn’t help but show off his thighs on stream, and i couldn’t help but destroy them <3333333

[hollyhomburg]

Hi First Time Messaging but I need to Scream About this particular SHOT BECAUSE IM GOING INSANE

AAAAAHAHSHAJFNWIDNAKDKSKSKSHDJSKSNASJHSJNSJSHXJ$🫡💕💕🫶🥰❤️🤪❤️❤️💔❤️💕❤️❤️💔🧍❤️❤️👍❤️🙏❤️🥺❤️💕❤️❤️🤩👍😌🥺❤️💔❤️

1) can i be the one pulling the cig out of his mouth

2) can i be the one getting the cig pulled out of my mouth

3) ITS SOOOOO *SOBBING CRYING FROWING UP HOWLING*

Also don’t get me started on the lyrics??? min yoongi the man that you ARE 🤩

“but don’t forget to differentiate between freedom and self indulgence”

“slaves to capitalism, slaves to money” “slaves to Youtube” (i screamed at that one)

The whole music video sexy as hell 😌

HIM JUMPING ON THE GUY AND ST*BING 💕 HIM JN THE NECK 💕🫶 HIM SMOKING 💕 HIM WOTH THE G U N 💕🫶💕💕🫶💕 HIM THROWING THE CIG ON THE MOMEY 💕🫶💕💕🫶💕💕🫶💕

Also Also it made me think of both sides of BILY Yoongi 🫶🫶 Mafia Boss Type in front of his blood family on one hand, Silly Goofy Guy that can still can and will kill you if you mess with his Pack family on the other 🫶🫶

Anyways do not know if you will see this and or answer especially anytime soon since the mv JUST came out but but but i’m 💕💕💕💕

P.S. I really love BILY a whole Lot and and i’m very excited about the update ❤️❤️❤️

honestly- that shot is so geumjae coded if i may 👀 personally i want one min yoongi to take a cigarette out of anothers mouth, pass it to me and then put it in his own- selfcest? twincest? dopelgangercest? all of em- only thing better than one agust d is two-

there's something about yoongi being murderous that's just so hot like...i feel like in kpop we very rarely see believable darkness, like don't get me wrong there are alot of darker mv's and shit- but i always have a hard time believing the acting in them. not with yoongi though. i firmly believe he'd stab someone if he needed too.

[blurglesmurfklaine]

Would love to know more about Love and Fanfiction 👀

HI SULLY!!! I feel like I haven't "seen" you around (probably bc Life and Work and also I follow over 700 people khdbfskhd) but I have missed your presence in my virtual space!

SO. Love and Fanfiction is the "IRL Besties; Online Worsties" AU that's been rattling around in my head for a while. It'll definitely be a few months before it's closed to being finihsed, but the gist of it is Kurt and Blaine are bffs in real life, but online they have Beef. Kurt is a popular fic writer and Blaine is a gifmaker for the same show (but different ships). It's utterly ridiculous and completely self indulgent but it do be livin in the old noggin rent free <3

I don't have much of this written AT ALL but here's the opening scene:

starchildofthenight: KURT starchildofthenight: THAT ENDING ON CHAPTER SIX OF STARING AT THE SUN??? ARE YOU FR?? SAY SIKE RN starchildofthenight: if I were less dignified I might give a keysmash

elizabethelphaba: Elliot, please. You read tentacle porn. There’s not an ounce of dignity left in your body elizabethelphaba: but also thanks for beta-ing, you’re my number one fan ❤️

starchildofthenight: thanks??? ohionians are so rude. even when they’re complimenting you

elizabethelphaba: that nightbird guy must be from Ohio, too then

starchildofthenight: I wouldn’t know, he never tells anyone anything about his identity starchildofthenight: but I do know he’s not that bad  starchildofthenight: I love his gifsets ngl. we chatted for a while the other day, on the Aathan server! I feel like you two would get along tbh

elizabethelphaba: [press X to doubt] 

starchildofthenight: message received

elizabethelphaba: okay I’m not going to convince you to not be friends with him but!!! he’s SOOOOO ANNOYING!  elizabethelphaba: like. who tf makes a call out post for breaking *internet ettiquite*?? It’s not like I doxxed someone! He only did it because I’m a caaron shipper, too…

starchildofthenight: well… you DID post hate in the Aaron X Nathan tag

elizabethelphaba: listen, I’m a Twitter refugee. This site is CONFUSING for me elizabethelphaba: almost as confusing to me as multi shipping Carson—no offense! I just truly don’t see the appeal, but I love it for YOU

starchildofthenight: if the smut’s good, the smut’s good 👀  starchildofthenight: speaking of smut…

elizabethelphaba: I’m not writing you caaron tentacle porn

starchildofthenight: Aaron would make the sexiest alien… Carson would sooooo secretly be into it

elizabethelphaba: JAIL!!!! STRAIGHT TO HORNY JAIL!! 

starchildofthenight: you can’t send me to horny jail, I’m the warden 😘 

[chryzure-archive]

im sorry abt your surgery, ill be there in spirit to hold your hand if you need it <3 wishing you the best and hopefully its just a scare and nothing to worry too much abt!!

as for asks...

i always love your music taste so, 5 songs youve had on repeat lately that make you think of chryzure + chrysijacks? also, if they were each a pair of unlikely animal friends (ie, a pig and a monkey lol) which ones would they be? def feeling rabbit and cat for chryzure.

this question is a very self-indulgent one cus ive been going thru a huge superhero phase but, if they were superheroes which ones would they be? this could either be made-up or existing superheroes-- personally, i think chrysi would be an AMAZING black cat/felicia hardy, she has the white hair and the dark aesthetic to match it :3 i def think azure would be a mutant/x-men (no particular reason, it just seems to match him?) and jacks... well, jacks is just giving me deadpool energy. slutty antihero? i think yes. it'd be cool to know what kind of superhero abilities youd assign to them tho :33

thank you 🖤 please hold my other hand though, they’re cutting up my right one 🤧 hopefully there’s nothing to worry abt since my family has a history of the weirdness w/o the cancer..

chryzure songs:

so good right now // fall out boy (wanted the whole album to make me think of chrysigil, then it jst wound up being chryzure and chrysijacks coded…)

xyz // technoplanet (vv specific vibe, idk why, but instrumentals like this make me go crazy, go wild)

anicent history // the crane wives (teehee! in agony thinking abt them separated)

in my head // mike shinoda, kailee morgue ((bonus song, still alive // demi lovato because screamvi brainrot real….. jst saying the au goes wild!))

cartoon people // billie marten (the vibes themselves……)

chrysijacks songs (he’s more annoying):

chapstick // coin (sorry, juno…:(( sorry jacks ruined this for you)

summer // circadian clock, baethoven (biting him!)

blood in the cut // k.flay (sorry juno pt.2)

hold my like a grudge // fall out boy (part-time soulmate, full-time problem too real for chrysijacks…)

121U // day6 (I DONT WANT TO WANT YOU I DONT WANT TO LOVE YOU!!!!!!!!)

chryzure is kittybunny lovers all the time… they are doing this right now:

chrysijacks is kitty and fox… sorry, the legend of the archer and the fox is actually abt chrysijacks and chrysi’s the archer and jacks is the fox!! idk what was going on in the books, get ur facts right!

((more proof is that i had a chrysijacks song called the fox before the book came out + the lyrics imply jacks not wanting to be the fox and hunted down by the archer… explain this 🤨))

oh my god, i looked up black cat and you’re RIGHT, that’s sooo chrysi??? esp the probability thing… explains why azure’s gotten such bad luck over the years.

if i were to make chrysi her own superhero, hmmm….. i feel like she’d summon ghosts and stuff… ??????? idk, i’ve never thought abt it 🫢 i mean, the funniest option is totally that she can bring back the dead and summon ghosts and stuff, but she never fucking uses that in favor of bashing ppl’s heads in w a baseball bat. OH, wait, her fated abilities include causing fear and giving nightmares, so maybe i could do something like that!!! she can keep the ghost summoning thing if she wants. idk what name i’d give her. it’s so hard coming up w a good superhero name. nightmare is too basic + i’m sure there’s thousands of ppl w that superhero name 💀 oh well!

AZURE WOULD SOOOOO HAVE X-MEN VIBES. he gets to go to a special little mutant school and have like minded peers… little special princess boy 🙄 SOME people learned they inflict fear on ppl and had to deal with it ALONE, but it’s fine. it’s rlly okay.

his powers probably are jst spatial manipulation, but he’s good enough at it that it looks like it’s jst telekinesis… and also teleportation :) jst the idea of him tricking ppl he has one power when it’s actually another makes me go crazy, go wild!!! idk what his title would be either. this is HARD, how do comic book writers do it!!!

yes. jacks is a whore. fuck him. i want him dead in a ditch. his powers are making ppl love him and want to obey him? rlly? he gets everything handed to him on a platter???? killing him killing him killing him!!!! he’d be the villain that chrysi and azure have to take down first, but they get there and jacks is jst rlly lameand they’re like, “…….. okay, guess we’ll leave you alive….?” and now he’s a thorn in their side that doesn’t leave ://////

[thus-spoke-lo]

Happy Friday, friends! Hope you’re all staying hydrated and rested whenever possible 💚

Chapter 3 of Pain Management should be up by Sunday or Monday, and I'm aiming for weekly-ish updates for the rest of it, if my brain and body are willing to cooperate. I keep running into the problem of wanting to add more scenes (because this fic is, if nothing else, a self-indulgent sick fic that I would have written for myself eventually but instead I've inflicted it on all of you), and the more I add, the more I have to reshuffle my existing chapters sooooo I’m gonna try to practice some self-control 🙃

Also upcoming for February/March: -Sanji NSFW one-shot (kitchen sex, sort-of bratty reader) -Nanami NSFW one-shots (finally getting around to those Spanking and Aftercare Kinktober prompts...😬)

[sunkingwrites]

POMPOM FLOWER :0

the funny thing is, whenever I see that flower I think of you! it’s one of my favooooriteeee flowersss, and they usually present joy and optimistic relationshipssssss (and youuu have brought sooo much joy! <3)

ahem ahem I probably shouldn’t be um being a dumbass using my phone in the bathtub after a mini photoshoot (IT WAS SO COOL) but i sWEAR i’m holding outside of the bath over the floor this time— anyways, whAT I WAS GOING TO SAYYYY- MndkajJjas I wanna paint my nails with you after I’m done taking a selfcare bathhh ;v;

I don’t even know why I’m talking about my bath- it’s comfortable… and I have no shame with my selfcare days ohmygod.. I need to learn how to stop 😭

KQJDIDI ANYWAYS BACK TO YOU, YOU DROP-DEAD-GORGEOUS HUMAN— I’m coooking laterrrr and I was wondering about food preferences (because I personally will eat anything edible as long as it doesn’t have b e a n s; I am a sucker for new things!)

sooooo what kinda food do you likeeee?? oooo and and back to the flowers- what flowers do you like as well? I swear I’m not planning anything *cough* I don’t know what you mean *cough*

POMPOM FLOWER!! FUCK YEAH FUCK YEAHHH!!

Bruuhhh it's suuuchh a pretty flower thoo aaahhhhhh

And-- PHOTOSHOOT, DID I HEAR PHOTOSHOOT??? Dude lemme get in there, imma get a bunch of closeups woo wooo, I fucking LOve photoshoots!!!! :DD

Ollie omg nooo, keep going on about your self care baatthh, VIBE AWAYYY VIBBEE AWAAAYYY!!

Ooh okay okay so what colour are we thinking for nail polish though? I'm getting you to decide because I think I have more colours so it'll be more likely to have what you choose,, and you can choose multiple colours of course of course BECAUSE THERE ARE MULTIPLE FINGERNAILS!!

uGH, yeah,, I am preettyyy gorgeeouus huh? ☆☆☆ :D

Okay uhhh food,, well since you're talking actually food and not candy-- because sour candy is where it's at-- mmmm I really like spicy food, and combining like.. every flavour that I like into one thing... because I'm verryy indulgent and I feel like that shows in the way I make things- today I had some butter turkey and rice with added hot sauce and green onions, because my mum made a turkey a bit ago and had a buNCh left over- but I should specify that I dIDNT actually make the food,, it was made for me and I just added a bunch of different shit to it like I always do--

something that I really like making is instant noodles,, then draining them and adding some margarine (cuz this boy shouldn't have butter), mayo, soya sauce, hot sauces, and a bunch of other stuff- it is again,, VERy indulgent.. but I really like it! And make sure you add a veggie aspect too cuz that'd important- but also slather those veggies in sauuceee becauseee yuummmyummyyy- oh goddss I'm getting hungry just thinking about this stufffff :')

Okay okay, so I'm gunna talk about flowers instead then-

Dude I literally don't know shit about flowers. xD I know tulips cuz they bloom around my birthday time (springg booyyy),, but I know the characteristics I like in flowers-- so I hope that's good enough

I like when flowers have a nice stem that you can hold it by, so it's easy to smell it, and easy to offer it to someone, so they can hold it and don't have to worry about dropping it

I like when flowers are bright, like they grab your attention, I like the warm colours of them- when it feels like they're reaching out to you and inviting you to smell them or take a closer look

I like when flowers have little patterns to their petals, yeah the teardrop shaped petals are fine- but I want some ruffles, some ridges and irregular curves- I need that flower to exist in its own space, existing as a separate creation in a field of monotony.

soooo yeah! I hope that's good <3

[melodyofthevoid]

(Sooooo I couldn’t resist the mer. Enjoy <3) 

He knew better. Of course he knew better, no mer grew up without being inundated constantly with the message "stay away from humans at all costs". For the safety of the pods. For your own safety. Stay away, otherwise you might not survive.

But Ballister preferred to indulge his own curiosity, no matter what the more logical parts of his brain demanded. Humans were simply fascinating with their ingenuity and creations, their art and music, at least from what he could see from the water.

And... well.

The man with the golden hair. It shouldn't have even been possible for his hair to be that perfect and yet. Yet there he was, broad shoulders and a smile brighter than the sun. How could Ballister truly stay away?

Plus the human seemed kind, at least from a distance.

He wanted to get closer, learn for himself if those eyes crinkled up at the sides when he smiled, what his laugh sounded like, learn what drew him out to the open seas. His name. He did, however, possess enough self restraint to only observe.

Which brought him to now, fretting from a league away as a storm tossed and battered the ship, eclipsing it in waves that pulled at Ballister even from where he swam. Dread warned of impending disaster, and for once, he had a feeling Nimona would agree with him. Not that she was here, she rolled her eyes (however many she felt like having that day) and told him to scream if anything happened. It was “his funeral”.

A flash of lightning struck the wood, illuminating the ship in scarlet fire.

He hated being right.

The golden man, the captain he assumed, rushed into action, ordering men to douse the flames while still trying to maintain a course for the shore. It was a valiant effort.

It wasn’t enough.

In preventing a younger member from going overboard, he overcorrected, tumbling off of the side and down into the sea below. At the speed the ship was going, they’d never turn around in time, not with this storm.

The man hit the water with a thud, thrashing beneath the roiling waves yet never breaching the surface. He fought, a fingertip’s length from reaching air before he went limp. Without thinking Ballister shot to his side, grabbing onto his hand. Pulling him up and away from the water and into the air.

Hacking coughs gave him enough hope to continue, the gentle yet steady thud of a beating heart all the more encouraging.

Apparently the worst of the storm decided to move more towards the northern star, allowing for the bright blue mid-day sun to peak through the breaking cloud cover. Shining a light on the kingdom’s coastline

“Just hang on, we’re almost there.”

Thankfully.

Hauling his dead weight took more energy than Ballister expected, but he managed to reach the sandy shallows, resting his cargo down. Avoiding any possible rocks or clumps of seaweed that might cause him to wake up too fast.

As much as he needed to leave, he was unable to tear his eyes away.

If his hair appeared golden before, in the breaking light of the sun, now free from the storm clouds, it shone brighter than any coin. His face defined, yet soft. Peaceful in his sleep.

Ballister rested a hand over his chest, both checking for any water left in his lungs and… indulging. For a moment he wondered if he’d forgotten how to breathe too.

No other humans were out of their homes yet, likely having taken shelter from the storm, so Ballister could at least tell him goodbye.

“I’m glad you’re safe, I wish… I wish that I could stay, I wish I could know your name, but it’s better for both of us if I go.”

“Brosisu…”

Ballister froze, lifting his hand and starting to turn away. Every instinct screaming at him to flee before the human opened his eyes.

“‘M name’s… Ambrosius…”

The human–Ambrosius– went limp again, brown eyes visible only for a second before fluttering closed again. Ballister let out a sigh and slipped beneath the waves, face burning bright and hand electric from where he’d felt his warmth under it.

By all means he should push this moment out of his mind forever and move on. Keep to his own life, and yet… Well.

He knew himself better.

got mermaids on my mind

[danisnotmyname]

How old were you when you wrote the Cisserus fic? Bc I remember reading it a few years ago to indulge my up at 3am reading a fic vibes and I recently watched vamps again and immediately was like I know there is a fic somewhere and now I’m re reading again.

Oooh thank you for rereading it! I'm glad to be a part of your 3 a.m. fic-reading list at one point, it's the best time of the day. That story is sooooo self-indulgent and cringe when I read it now but then I wrote it when I wasn't a part of any fandoms...so I'd say about 18 or so.

Hope you're having fun reading it! Thanks again.