#The way he writes “d” is very neat

[revolutionarywig]

I think i can do a pretty good robespierre signature forgery

[wexhappyxfew]

"Hello, love! Could you please write from seeking out physical affection”, specifically comparing hand sizes, holding their hands against each other's, and then just holding hands” Could you also add a kiss on the cheek? For Judy and Rosie.

Tarzan and Jane vibes!

P.S Resending this, because I forgot to say that it is for Judy and Rosie 😆

Love you ❤️

AH HELLO!!!!! thank you so so much for sending this in! both you and @archival-hogwash sent in Judy x Rosie for this AND the same prompt so i hope you *both* enjoy this one!!!! i certainly had a GREAT time writing this, as i haven't done judy x rosie in what feels like AGES!!!!! SO!!! this is probably one of my favorite things for judy and rosie because we really get into their connection on multiple levels, along with their emotions and a piece purely focused on them. i would say this is purely self-indulgent on my part haha! so, i truly hope you enjoy! <3 THANK YOU SO MUCH AGAIN BOTH OF YOU!! :D

know it's you

(a/n): to the judy x rosie girlies, your joy and support and love for this duo has truly transcended, and so this piece is for you! judy rybinski is an OC i hold incredibly near and dear to my heart and it seems she's made quite the impact as well. plus - her and rosie make my heart melt and there's a whole lot of that here. so please, truly, enjoy! :) definitely love the jane/tarzan vibes in the gifs too hehe - that's so them in ways!!! AND -- to the judy anons earlier talking and asking about judy's past, we see a bit of why that is important to her character right here! ps — there’s some intimacy here but nothing super intense past that! just incase there are some not interested parties!

The barracks were much emptier these days - it still housed the Silver Bullets group, but with them 40% down their normal crew, which was now dispersed halfway across continental Europe, with the other 60% obtaining various positions in the air and on base - quiet was the new normal.

It was an off day and Judy hadn't been one to complain - they'd been doing missions and training relentlessly for days and by this point, to say the exhaustion wasn't getting to her would be a whole other level of lying lunacy. She'd had dinner with the rest of the girls - Dougie joining in beside Carrie because ever since they'd seemed to silently make it official between them, they'd been attached at the hip when they didn't have to be apart.

By that point, everyone else had gone out to the flying club, but Judy wanted nothing more than to curl up in bed and read the rest of Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen - she'd gotten close to the part with the love confession - she could feel it.

Freshly showered, hair nearly dry as it clung to her nightshirt and neck, she sat crossed-legged sideways on her bed, back leaned up against the wall of the barracks, listening to the silent hum of all the bugs outside, the crackle of voices somewhere in the distance and the hum of the lantern light turned on beside her.

If this was peace, she never wanted to let go of it.

It was almost a weird comfort that reminded her of training days - first getting the group of women together when Birdie had called on a crew. Meeting the girls, hanging out late into their off-day nights, talking, hearing peoples' stories and backgrounds and family history. By that point, Judy had taken to wearing her PT shorts to bed with one of the pale wool button-ups that Birdie had requested for the crew. Now, cuddled with her blanket, her button-up and her book, she was as happy as a damn lark. A gentle knock came from the door.

"You in there, Judy?" the voice called through. The corner of Judy's lip drew upwards.

"Who's asking?" She knew. She always did. She grinned wider.

"Who do you think?" the voice called back, a slight chuckle on their lips.

"I don't know…."Judy called back, "kinda hard to distinguish entirely with a wooden door breaking up the noise." She heard the laugh behind the door and couldn't help but take a split-second to brush her lose strands of hair behind her ears and rub a bit underneath her eyes, hoping the dark circles weren't as big as they had been earlier.

"Am I good to come in?"

"All clear." Judy called back. The door slowly pushed open and Judy couldn't help but feel her heart spin a bit out of control at the sight of Rosie Rosenthal stepping inside, crusher cap perched on his head, layered in his A2 and button-up, that look on his face that was a mixture of soft worry and concern all at once.

"Hi." Judy said, watching as he shut the barrack door behind him, waltzing over towards her with that silent look on his face and lips.

"Hey." he said back, pulling over one of the chairs from a table and placing it beside her cot and settling himself into the chair comfortably before leaning forward, "You doing okay? Didn't see you at the officers' club." She could feel the tension in her shoulders slowly unknotting at his worrying question, watching him peel off the A2 and crusher cap; it only took her a matter of seconds to slowly nod, a small smile on her face as she tilted her head.

"Yes," she said quietly, "just didn't feel up for being out tonight, I'll be honest. What about you though?" Rosie watched her as she let her eyes gently draw over his entire face, taking in each aspect of his eyes, his cheeks, his lips that made her feel all over the place on the inside. He grinned.

"Well, I'm glad you're here then," he said quietly with a nod, "sometimes you need a night away." She grinned. "I was at the officers' club. But, I don't know….didn't feel up for being out tonight. Wanted to come and see what you were up to." Judy let out a laugh and gently closed her book and leaned towards him over her crossed legs with a smile.

"Thanks for joining me then," Judy said, "can't promise to be as much entertainment as Dougie thinking he can dance, but….I can tell some pretty good campfire stories around the potbelly stove, I must admit." Rosie chuckled at her words, before looking up at her with a quiet look on his face, blue eyes watching her intently.

Rosie Rosenthal was like that though - he knew there was more behind it. He always did and with the way his mood had shifted, she knew in an instance that he'd been worrying for her longer than just the past hour when he came to see her. He could be in the flying club with the rest of the crews, drinking, having a grand old time, but instead he was here. With her.

"Just you here?" Rosie asked her, a slight tinge of concern in his voice and Judy nodded.

"It's okay," Judy said, looking down at her nails and picking at the edges of them with a shrug, "the other girls needed a night and I just wasn't feeling it. Didn't want them to miss out though. And sometimes just being here is what I need." Judy nodded towards the four usually empty and fresh-made cots. "Sometimes it's like they're here, ya know?"

They glanced towards the footlockers and cots across from Judy - mainly at the end of what was still Lieutenant Bradshaw's cot. Francis generally didn't allow anyone to touch it, open it, hardly even look at it. She always told people that they were coming back - if there was no word on any of the missing members of Silver Bullets or their bodies - they weren't dead. It'd be there until they got back. And Judy always believed Francis, she always did.

Judy couldn't help but feel her emotions wrangle with her heart as she stared at those four lone footlockers, untouched for months, cots forever-made on that last morning they'd been here.

The chair screeched slightly closer and she felt warmth overwhelm her hands, Rosie's large palms taking her small fists into his own hands, the nerves and tension immediately seeming to dissipate. Looking back towards him, she couldn't help but feel a small smile grow on her face, his face inches from her own.

"They're still out there," Rosie whispered quietly, his thumb running circles underneath the knuckles on her left hand, "I know that." Judy slowly nodded, knowing her words would fail her if she tried to talk. Rosie seemed to catch that in a matter of seconds and let out a deep breath.

"Tell me about what you were reading," he said quietly, nearly therapeutically, "that's a good one."

"You've read it?"

"I have." Rosie said, his voice a soothing sound to her ears, "When you have sisters, they convince you to read books like that." Judy gave him a look and he chuckled. "Didn't complain, I promise." Judy laughed lightly, eyes growing soft at his gaze on her as she smiled lazily.

"Mr. Darcy has just confessed his love for Elizabeth Bennet." Judy said quietly, retracting one of her hands to reach up and brush her fingers past some of his lose curls near his forehead, smiling slightly at the chill racing across his body underneath her touch, the way his eyes shut slightly and a small breath left his lips, "I would say it didn't entirely go as planned, but it has been one of my favorite things to read, I must say."

"You think it's a good book so far?" he asked her quietly, and she nodded, hand continuing to slowly careen back and forth over those few curls on his forehead.

"It blows some other books I've read out of the water." she said and she watched as he grinned, his eyes refusing to leave hers as he continued to watch her, the two of them falling into silence.

Watching each other in this quiet way was far more intimate than anything else she'd experienced in life and she hadn't experienced much. Her hand running through his hair, his hands holding her other, inches from each other's faces. Inches.

They each seemed to linger closer to one another, their eyes holding one another's gazes and she found herself welcoming his touch up onto her neck, the warmth making her whole body feel as if it were on fire.

It was always this.

Never touching this way, but still going to an extent before they'd back away. But now, they were alone and it was a warm, spring night and it was different; she wanted to feel something different than grief and loss.

Feeling his fingers grow up her neck towards her cheeks, her eyes shut at his touch; it was a little crazy to think about how close they were, his touch on her neck and face, breath fanning across her face. Maybe this crush wasn't as stupid as she had thought it to be. She was scared to open her eyes that had since closed and look at him, feeling his continual warm breath inches from her lips.

Kiss me, her voice seemed to whisper inside her head, please kiss me. His thumb brushed her warm cheek and she shivered a bit at the touch.

"You're shaking." Rosie whispered, and she shivered again, her heart racing inside her chest. She couldn't look at him. She couldn't do it.

"You make me nervous." she whispered back, her voice sounding light, almost like she was floating. Slowly, she opened her eyes - he was right there. He was so close, staring at her face like she was staring at something holy. His eyes were beautiful so close to her face, deep and caring and full. She had never been touched by someone like him, cared for, held and loved by.

"May I kiss you?" he whispered, his own voice sounding strained, "Please?"

"Please do." she whispered and it was in what felt like milliseconds where she was engulfed by him. His arms wrapped around her back, pulling her into him, his lips pressing earnestly against her own, her body snaking into his lap on the chair and her hands crawling into his hair and messing up those curls that were so perfectly done day in and day out.

Judy melted into him, his hands going up her back into her neckline, her body hot all over the place it felt as he tugged at her bottom lip, a small sigh escaping as she pressed her lips back to his.

It was such a quick-paced and desperate array of kisses - something she had never even experienced in her life. Rosie made a noise at the back of his throat, which made Judy pull back for a second, almost caught off guard - she'd never done this before, what was she even doing - were her hands in the right place? Could she even kiss well enough for it to be worth it? Did it mean anything? For him? For her? For them?

"Hey, you okay?" managed Rosie, trying to catch his breath, his lips a deep red - she realized she'd been sucking a bit on his bottom lip - his cheeks an equally similar color.

"Yeah, yeah," Judy said, her body clinging onto him with her arms and legs latched around his frame, "fine, this….wow."

Words, Judy, words.

It was so intimate to be so close to his face, almost like it was some secret thing no one had ever gotten the pleasure of doing before. She stared at him and watched as he licked his lips and glanced at her lips.

"Just…." Judy started as he watched her, his hands softly clinging to her back, his fingertips sending sparks along the fabric atop her skin, "I…..I've never been like this with someone."

"Like this?" Rosie whispered back, reaching up a hand to clutch at her cheek, brushing her flaming skin and smiling. Judy nodded.

"This….close." Judy whispered, "But for the first time in my life, I trust someone to be like this with." Rosie stared at her, a tender look on his face.

"I feel safe with you." Judy said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. Rosie continued to watch her and then smiled.

"Thank you." he whispered softly back, "I feel safe with you, too." Judy felt her heart skip a beat - multiple beats if anything - and smiled.

Within seconds of such a thing to say, Judy was kissing him, wrapping her body around him, pulling her hands up through his hair, every part of her body feeling her heart continuing to race faster and faster.

There was a deep-seeded need, but gentleness that came with his touch to her lips, the exhaustion of the day ever-present, but the want to feel showing in ways she couldn't quite understand as he deepened the kiss there in front of the fire. He slowly bit at her bottom lip as they parted, the two of them shaking, deep labored breaths escaping their lips as Judy slowly looked upwards towards Rosie, staring at his eyes in the quiet darkness that evaded nearly all the light. Judy's hands slowly moved down from his hair to his olive button-up, her fingertips dancing on the buttons.

"Do it." Rosie whispered, his breathing heavy, "It's yours." Just those words seemed to flip a switch in her head as she slowly, button by button undid both the shirt and him.

As she came to the bottom, his bare chest began to show and she slowly let her hands move towards his shoulders, peeling the fabric from his form, down his arms and to the ground. Her body was on fire, as she looked back up towards him, staring at her with those darkened blue eyes that made her go slightly insane. His hands lingered on her waist, hers on his now bare arms, their bated breath held for a moment as they watched one another.

Every movement made her want more, every look, every touch.

Everything made her live with want. Her hands slowly trailed down to his own hands, which felt like they were equally on fire, and she slowly guided them to the front of her wool button-up.

"Judy…." Rosie whispered. She slowly looked up and met his firm gaze and she sucked in a breath. It was so insanely attractive to her to know he was looking at her like this. She leaned slightly closer, still holding his hands to the buttons and watched his gaze.

"Will you help me?" she whispered.

"Yes." Rosie said, almost without any hesitation and immediately began unbuttoning her top, her heart pounding, the need growing.

As soon as the button on the bottom was undone, the top slid off her shoulders to expose her bare chest - and if she was honest, her rather sorry-excuse of a bra - his lips were pressing on her own and goosebumps danced over her skin at the slightly cool air and his touch. His lips were so gentle and soft, placed there on her own, a distant hunger behind each deepening of touch that made her crave more.

Taking in a shuddering breath, his lips moved to a tender spot on her neck and a small noise in the back of her throat escaped - it was almost so light-hearted as Rosie pulled back and softly tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and chuckled that soft, breathy laugh.

"You okay?" he whispered and she looked to him, a smile on her breathless face as she looked at him.

"Yeah," she whispered shakily, "yeah. Wow." Rosie smiled at her through the darkness before slowly leaning forward and bringing her into another kiss, him biting her lip, a groan from the back of his throat and a whimper from her own mouth.

The slight grind of his body against hers was making it much harder to just focus on him and his lips. He was kissing her neck again, his lips exploring the whole of her neck, arching down to her collarbone as her eyes shut and far too many pleasant thoughts entered her brain. She was unbecoming in front of him, as he clung to her in a God-like way.

Slowly, Rosie shifted, clutching her to him and moving her to the cot, the blanket soft on her back as he laid her there and then pressed down onto her, his larger form a comforting weight there on top of her.

God, if someone walked in now, what would she say?

But, it was Rosie.

With Rosie, she was safe.

Rosie sucked on her neck, before pulling back for a second, his entire body shuttering as he looked towards her and then smiled, hovering overtop of her and softly kissing her forehead.

"You're one of the most beautiful women I've ever met." he whispered softly, eyes honest, almost like he spoke and got choked up in the middle and recovered.

"Thank you." she whispered back, her own throat choking up as she stared at him, the light from the lantern tickling his features, making his face a honey gold.

No one ever had told her such things, touching her and holding her as gently as he had, caring for her like he did. Rosie smiled and then Judy followed, a giggle along with it. Then, they were kissing, their bodies pressed against each other again.

At some point, his lips were on her collarbone and her lips had traversed his face and neck and then they were curled into each other's bodies, as he traced her bare back with a warm finger and she stared at his soft, cuddly face that she planted a kiss to every so often.

Rosie Rosenthal was shy when he wanted to be, but he was nowhere shy about where he wanted to put his hands and mouth.

But in this moment, quiet and intimate, all she could do was watch him.

"I'll admit, I've never been like this with someone," she whispered quietly as his light finger touch sent chills down her spine, "I'm sorry if my kissing didn't offer much." Rosie watched her and then shook his head with a playful scoff, and continued tracing her back.

"Don't say that," Rosie whispered quietly and then brought his lips to her ear, "your lips were reverent."

Judy could feel her body get hot just at his words and slowly turned to look at him as they lied there under the blanket. Her heart pounded as her cheeks grew hot, staring at his devastatingly handsome face watch her right back, like he could see all of her - which in ways, he definitely could.

She leaned forward and captured his lips again in hers, hungrily deepening the kiss, both their lips red and swollen as she bit down tenderly and a groan filled his mouth. She was sinking underneath him as he deepened the kiss against her lips this time. His warm hands were dancing across her bare-skinned chest and eventually reached the waistline of her shorts.

And the second she felt a finger on her waistline, her entire body grew cold and froze. She stopped kissing him, her lips growing shut, her eyes blasted wide-open and her shoulders immediately tense. Rosie pulled back in an instant, his hands on her cheeks gently, his own eyes open above her, worry pooling in his blue eyes as he looked down.

"You okay, Judy?" he whispered quietly, slightly out of breath, "We can stop." Judy looked at him, her eyes suddenly filling with tears she hadn't quite expected.

She didn't want to cry, why was she crying. No, no, no.

"Oh, hey, hey, c'mere." Judy put a hand over her mouth, Rosie coming off the top of her, reaching over the edge of the bed to grab his collared button-up. As tears grew down her cheeks, Rosie gently guided her arms into the long sleeves of his button-up, pulling it overtop her bare shoulders, before slowly buttoning it up, button by button.

"C'mere, Judy." Rosie whispered quietly, positioning himself sitting up against the pillows on the cot, allowing her to curl into his body, head snuggled against his bare chest, comforted by his presence, the scent of his shirt that always smelled like that pleasant cologne he always wore, and the quietness of the world surrounding them, "You okay, Jude?"

Whenever he kept repeating her name, it always brought her back, it allowed her to ground herself and think and keep her mind clear. Because it usually meant he was trying to get through to her and calm her down. And it always worked.

Judy could feel his hand around her waist, his other hand gently brushing through her hair, over and over in the most soothing manner. A mixture of embarrassment and guilt hit her in that moment curled beside him.

Would he think that he'd done something wrong?

Would he not like her because she couldn't do it?

Whatever it really was?

Would he think she was too inexperienced and naive?

Would he-?

"I'm sorry," she whispered out against his chest, the tears continuing to well in her eyes as she let out a shaky breath, "I just….it's me."

"No, no, it's okay," Rosie whispered quietly above her, gently pressing a kiss to her head - she could hear the smile in his voice, "it's okay." Judy snuggled closer into him and let out another shaky sigh.

"I'm not ready," she whispered through tears, "to do that yet. I'm sorry."

"No, no," Rosie said quietly - quickly, "don't apologize. You don't have to apologize to me, okay? Or…better yet, at all. You're ready when you're ready and if it's not yet, that's okay." Judy slowly peaked up at him, red-rimmed eyes, her nose probably getting drippy, looking far less unpleasant than she had earlier.

"Are you sure?" she asked him quietly and he gave her the sweetest smile she'd ever seen.

"I am." he said quietly, reaching up to brush at some tears on her cheeks, "I just want to be with you, Judy, that's all. In anyway I can." Her heart released the tension it had held for a brief moment and she nodded, a small smile peaking out.

"There's that grin," he whispered, pressing another kiss to her forehead this time, "there it is." Judy smiled wider and couldn't help but press closer to him, trying to gain access to every part of him there, curled into him in anyway she could. In a quick second though - she came quickly to the realization of what had just occurred and looked up at him.

Kissing him, kissing Rosie Rosenthal, kissing him the way she had and him kissing her back with just as much desperation as she did to him.

"That was my first kiss." Judy whispered quietly, staring out in front of them, towards where the sun had finally set out that little window, "My first….anything like that."

Maybe Judy should've held off saying that because Rosie froze there beside her, the hand on her hair going still, the hand on her waist tightening. She slowly peaked up at him and saw him watching her, a mixture of worry and concern mixed in his eyes and maybe a slight bit of nervousness that wasn't there before? She sat up a bit, and reached forward with her free hand that wasn't tucked against her body and lightly brushed her fingers against his face, smiling automatically, his own grin growing on his face afterwards.

"I'm…quite honored to be your first, Judy." he said quietly, the nervousness in his voice probably one of the cutest things she'd heard in a while, "Firsts are always special, so…."

"You always make everything special for me, you know that?" she said quietly, tilting her head against him, "That was really special though. Truly." Rosie watched her with that soft grin and she couldn't help but lean forward and press a soft kiss to his lips, the quickness of the familiarity of his lips almost insane to her - that her body could so instantly store in her mind the touch and feel of his lips just like that, his presence, his touch, him. Pulling back slightly, she watched him.

"Even if my first didn't…..go all the way, I guess." she said.

A few years ago, she remembered when all the towns girls would talk about their firsts - she remembered some were even getting married or having their first born! And there'd been Judy, waiting and waiting. Feeling left behind, embarrassed, too quiet not to say anything, too much of an outlier to say that she felt she was behind in the first place.

In her mind, she knew she was being too hard on herself, but it was something about her past few years that did it to her. But Rosie was stopping that and telling her there was no rush - he just wanted to be there. With her. And that was more important than anything.

"It doesn't have to," Rosie said quietly, cupping her cheek and smiling tenderly, "it doesn't need to. It's whatever you want it to be. And to even just….know it's you…." Judy watched him, eyes darting back and forth between his eyes as her cheeks slowly heated, despite the realization she'd been heavily making out with him moments earlier. He'd probably always have that effect on her.

"Know it's me?" she whispered. Rosie smiled, lovingly running his hand back through her hair before coming to dote underneath her chin, raising it up gently and pressing a kiss to her lips.

"Yes." he said quietly.

"What does that mean?" He watched her and grinned again.

"Ask me again in a few months." he whispered back to her, pressing another kiss to her forehead, making her feel all warm and fuzzy. Slowly, he held up his hand and she reached out her own hand to press against his - she giggled.

"Your hand is so big, Rosie, God," she said with a laugh, hearing his chuckle from somewhere above her, "mine is so tiny."

"It's cute." he whispered quietly, clasping his fingers around her hand, holding it there against his chest.

Staring at their intertwined hands against his chest, an aggressive feeling for him suddenly took shape and she realized how quick it was that it was in fact the feeling of genuine love.

Affection.

Adoration.

Love. For someone like him. For every part of him in every way.

Judy looked up at him, meeting his gaze again there in the lantern light and couldn't help it as she leaned towards him and lovingly pressed a kiss to his lips that slowly got deepened and rather emotional and slow and infused with a tenderness that she'd never felt before. It was slow movements, their heads and lips moving in unison, breaking every so often for a collection of air, before connecting again, their noses brushing, bits of laughter escaping every so often. Judy couldn't help but laugh at how ticklish his mustache was against her upper lip. It was all so gentle and peaceful - she had never felt so at peace with someone like this.

"If one of the girls came in now…."Judy whispered, before breaking into a laugh, "I'd probably never live it down." Rosie let out a small chuckle and shook his head against her softly, before pressing another kiss to her lips.

"You're something else, Judy Rybinski," he said quietly, eyes meeting hers again and she couldn't help but swell with emotion, "ever since I met you. Something special."

[keeps-ache]

brrrba pa pa da de do ♩

[sysig]

Got ‘im (Patreon)

[nereidprinc3ss]

kiss it better

in which spencer notices your bruised knees and tries to make it up to you

18+ (fluff, allusions to past intimacy) warnings/tags: gn!reader i believe, reader has bruised knees lol, guess why, implied intimacy, hurt/comfort, sorta implied d/s dynamics maybe?? spencer is so smart and not very smart, but forever my no. 1 cutie pie a/n: why do i love writing about smut like before and after smut way more than i actually like writing smut LOL anyways here is this cause i haven't been posting very much!!! (also ik I said I don't like babe as a pet name but shhh) and GIF :D

“Hey,” you grunt as you flop on the bed in your pajamas, rumpling the neat covers. “Pay attention to me.”

Spencer holds his Sudoku off to the side and watches, eyebrows raised, as you scoot closer, tossing your leg over him. Soon he’s abandoning the book and pen on the bedside table in favor of hooking his fingers under your knee and stroking your leg, much to your delight. 

“Okay. What kind of attention would you like?”

You allow him to put his other arm around you and settle your cheek on his shoulder. 

“This is pretty good.”

“Oh, good,” he says with only a hint of teasing, leaning down slightly to kiss your lips and then the tip of your nose. 

When he pulls away you can’t help smiling up at him like a lovestruck idiot. Obviously he’s perfect all the time, but in his glasses, with his hair messy, wearing a navy crewneck instead of a button up and tie… he’s just… he’s just so…

He’s just so alarmed?

“Honey, your knee.”

“My knee?” Your own brows furrow and you track his eye line, craning your neck to look down to the blotchy sprawl of purple and red marring your skin. “Oh.”

The pillow is soft under your head where it falls, unconcerned even as Spencer gawps at you, baffled by your nonchalance. 

“What did you do?”

You snort. 

“What did you do, Spencer?”

It’s cute, the way his lips move as he silently repeats the sentence, trying to discern the meaning of your words. 

“What do you mean? I did something?”

“Babe.”

The knot between his brows has not loosened any—in fact you’re worried he’s going to give himself a headache. Or at least make himself dizzy, with the way his eyes cycle between your own. You try again, covering his anxious hand on the bend of your leg with your own. 

“When we got back from Penelope’s thing, the other night?”

Slowly the understanding seeps into his expression—soft guilt in his eyes, and a deep red stain in his cheeks. At least his face relaxes. 

“Oh.”

God, he’s so cute. He can’t hold eye contact, looking down once the shock of embarrassment has faded and swallowing, a little frown twisting his features once more. You reach up, brushing his cheek with a thumb and adjusting his glasses. 

“What’s wrong?”

The question comes out too smiley, but you can’t help it. 

“I hurt you,” he says, quietly, utterly ashamed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

“I kinda think you did,” you tease, and Spencer says your name with a serious edge. You try to quit grinning so much. “Baby, it’s fine. You didn’t hurt me. Don’t you ever get mysterious bruises?”

His eyes are wide and honest on yours when he meets them again. 

“No. My iron levels are optimal.”

Naturally. 

“Okay, well, lots of people do. Sometimes I get a bruise and I have no idea what it’s from because it never hurt. These,” you look down, gesturing to your knee, “never hurt. It’s just what happens when your knees hit the floor.”

“Well you shouldn’t have been on the floor,” he scolds, countering with a sweet touch on your cheek. “I’m never letting you touch the floor ever again.”

Your shit-eating grin is back and better than ever. “Oh, so you’re going to carry me everywhere we go?”

“If that’s what it takes. I don’t like seeing you bruised up.”

“It’s okay. I bruised myself doing something I love.”

At this Spencer rolls his eyes and kisses you once more before gently pushing your leg away and getting out of bed. 

“Where are you going?” You ask, all smugness gone and more concerned than you ought to be as he flicks the bathroom light on. For a moment you receive no answer, but then he reappears bearing a white tube. 

“Give me your legs,” he says, sitting next to you on the bed. You swing your legs over his lap and watch on in mild interest as he dispenses lotion from the bottle and tosses it aside, carefully rubbing it into the bruised skin. Every few seconds he glances up to gauge your reaction, and though it’s definitely tender, you avoid wincing. “You don’t have to do that. I can tell it hurts.”

You laugh. 

“Yeah, well, it didn’t until you started trying to fix it.” The ointment is pungent and you make a face. “What are you rubbing all over me?”

“This is vitamin K and Arnica. It will make the bruises go away faster.”

“Aw. You don’t think they’re pretty on me?”

He sets the bottle on the nightstand and retrieves the pen he’d been doing Sudoku with earlier, uncapping it. Your heart swells as he draws tiny sad faces by the bruises on your knees, glasses slipping down his nose as he focuses intently. 

“I always think you’re pretty. I just never want you to be hurt, ever.”

“Are you done taking care of me now?” You ask, reaching out for him. The pen joins the bottle and suddenly he has no concern for your bodily health, practically crushing you with a hug. When he speaks it’s muffled by your shoulder. 

“Never.”

You hum, nose tickled in his hair and forming a dastardly plan. 

“You could kiss them better.”

Spencer laughs and presses his lips briefly to your neck. 

“I might just do that.”

[ghosts-and-blue-sweaters]

Tommy sighs, and some of his anger is blown out through his nose and into the salty breeze. He’s quiet for about a minute before he says, “Do you want me to go in with you?”

~~~

Ghostbur stares at the list, and then looks up. He can see structures at the end of the path, behind some leafy trees. Wooden structures. Houses. A little village.

Ghostbur doesn't visit many villages—he doesn't remember any from Alivebur, either—mostly because they tend to be far away from the main parts of a server, and it takes a while to get to them.

~~~

Even so, Tommy’s heart pulses in his head, and his feathers are raised all over him, and he feels cold instead of hot even though his hair feels sticky.

~~~

When Philza saw Ghostbur for the first time, he gasped.

~~~

Wilbur wonders if Techno ever feels like this, around Tommy. This warm bursting inside his chest, like his heart is expanding past his ribs and slowly tearing through his skin. This explosion in slow-motion, a cacophony of colors and heatwaves and emotions, collecting in a storm cloud inside Wilbur’s brain. This feeling that’s so loud, and yet so quiet at the same time.

~~~

Wilbur loves her.

~~~

Tommy exhales softly. "Why aren't you saying much? You're all closed-off and stuff. That's bad, y'know. It represses trauma and locks up all your thoughts with a teeny tiny key and throws it out the window. Stuff like that." He waits. "Puffy says that's bad for you. Did she tell you that? About repressing things? Wil?"

~~~

Tommy presses his lips together. “Hey, if you- if you’re tired or anything, we can sit down. We don’t have to keep walking if you’re feeling bad.”

~~~

He wonders now, as he holds a tiny glass in both hands, walking from the kitchen to the den. It's the smallest glass he owns, he's sure; he'd spent way too much time looking for it earlier, opening cupboards and peering behind dishes and even checking underneath the sink. It's the only glass that'll fit the contents made for it—which, of course, is a flower. A very small, very tattered, very weak blue flower, all but one petal torn off.

~~~

Techno flicks his eyes to Ghostbur’s face, watching the ghost’s nostrils flare gently every time he breathes. Blanket covered chest rising up and down. Ghostbur doesn’t look like he’s in pain. That’s good.

Even so, Techno drops one hand from his chin and lets one elbow slide off his knee, reaching his arm forwards in order to lay his palm across Ghostbur’s forehead. A bit cold.

[goldenstring6123]

Hiii, my request is an ABC nsfw from each of the LaDS men, because I've been following you since the beginning and I ended up being curious about how you think they act during sex (If you could do Zayne's first I would be very grateful 🙏) I LOVE YOUR WRITINGS!!! (Sorry for any grammatical errors, English is not my first language)

Zayne: NSFW alphabet

Warning: 18+ only, MDNI!, Fem!reader, Full of sex related stuff: Toys, Kinks, Positions, preferences, etc. Read at your own risk!

Author's note: This is really fun to make but it's really long so I'll do individual posts. I was wondering what nsfw abc is and boy am I sooooo— heheh anyways, thank u for making this request pookie! #nsfweds

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Zayne will alternate between bathing you or simply wiping you down with a damp cloth. in order for Zayne to bathe you, you must be awake, or at least half awake, but this is a bit of a risky situation because things might also become 'steamy' in the bathroom.

If he has worn you out or had knocked you out cold, he would wipe you down with a cloth and move you to the other bedroom, then change the sheets in yours and move you back. Zayne would always make sure you rest with at least your underwear and a shirt on because he doesn't want you catching a cold.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Their favorite body part of you is your breasts and chest area. When you're on his lap, straddling him, he likes to bury his face in between your cleavage. Being close to your heart is something he likes to do physically, and when you orgasm, he likes feeling your pussy pulse at the same time as your heart.

Their favorite body part is their own hands. His hands may have scars, but that adds to the beauty of it. His fingers are long, and he keeps his nails neat, and because of this, he's able to reach places where you couldn't when you finger yourself. Plus, you like sucking on his fingers and intertwining it with yours when you're so lost in your mind.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

His cum alternates between opaque and thick to a bit thin and watery, depending on if he's managed to masturbate within the week. When Zayne wears a condom, he cums inside of you quite fearlessly, and you can feel his dick twitch while it spurts out the semen. When he doesn't wear a condom or when he decides to take it off, he likes spurting it on your lower abdomen and stomach. To which he'll use it to lubricate his dick again and pound into you. He's the type of guy whose body twitches when he ejaculates. He thrusts roughly and buries himself in you, only to tremble while he savors his high.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Zayne likes to see you squirt like a fountain. He likes how you write under his grasp while he keeps your legs still. He likes it when you cry that you can't stop cumming when he continues to lap your pussy, or when he continues to push through your orgasm. When you thrust your hip up, and your fluids spray on the bed—Zayne's mind is in a trance.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Fairly inexperienced, a virgin even—he knows what he needs to know through 'research', but a little guide from you would go a long way. He's a fast learner and a bit experimental (surprisingly), so he gets the hang of it in no time. You almost forgot that he's a newbie in just three months in.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Zayne likes two positions. First is the butterfly position, where one or both of your legs are over Zayne's shoulders. This position allows him to go deep while still being able to see your full body and touch you elsewhere. Moreover, he likes that he can seamlessly transition to a mating press if he wants to go rougher on you.

The second position that he likes is when you simply straddle his lap and move to satisfy yourself. He won't tell you this for some reason, but he likes it because you get to do the work while his hands can grope and knead your ass while kissing each other deeply.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

It's always serious when it's Zayne. Passionate, intimate, and caught in the moment are words that describe what it's like to make love. Although he genuinely admires your sense of humor, Zayne's in charge of making you happy in the bedroom.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

The carpets match the drapes, and Zayne has hair but not by a lot. He grooms them well, but at weeks when he can't afford to take care of himself, sometimes, you can see the hair creep up to his belly button, which is absolutely hot.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? The romantic aspect)

Very intimate. Almost all moments of Sex with Zayne will be intimate as you both want it and desire each other to the fullest, even just sex on regular days. That being said, there is an exception, which is when you're both hot-headed or frustrated: then you just use each other like a sex toy until you're both worn out, to which you'll make love intimately soon after.

J = Jack off (masturbation head-canon)

Contrary to what one may expect, he always finds a way to jack off; he needs to, especially with you so easily flaunting your body in his house or even just by sending him too sexy of pictures of you in his old college long coat. Half of the time, he distracts himself from the growing and throbbing hard on but the rest of the time, he'd excuse himself to the toilet or go on a quick shower run to jack off until he gets everything out of his system.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Secret Kink:

Alcohol kink - Zayne doesn't like to do things to you when you're inebriated because, to him, it's improper to touch a lady when they're not in their right mind. but when it's the other way around, he gets off of it. He gets tipsy for sure, but it amplifies his senses, and he can't focus on anything but the woman who's riding him to their own pleasure.

Well known kink:

Power play - It doesn't matter who takes the lead. Zayne would like it if you pushed him against the wall and rubbed yourself up all over him while you gave him orders not to touch you. It breaks his rational thinking when you yank on his tie and speak to him as if you're his superior. He's willing to follow your every whim and command. On his more erotic days, Zayne gives the orders, and you must oblige without fail because he's quite harsh and doesn't hesitate to give you consequences while cooing at you, be it by edging, orgasm denial, or breaking your orgasm.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

The bedroom. Because it's intimate, your body will be less sore in the bedroom because the mattress is soft and has many pillows to support your back. but of course, if neither of you can hold back, Zayne can do you anywhere as long as it's secluded. It could be his office, the hospital bathroom, or a hotel room with a full city view.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Zayne is turned on when you're acting all innocent and coy while rubbing against him "accidentally" and showing your assets in front of him, and somehow choosing the most revealing combination of house clothing and coincidentally wearing matching lingerie underneath your uniform.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Dislikes asphyxiation. He simply can't imagine choking you in bed, and the mere thought of you even fainting sends his stomach churning in the wrong direction. The bruises that one could get on their neck were even more appalling in his eyes. He knows it's a play, but he genuinely cannot allow himself to do it.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

A perfect balance of both. When you're stressed out, he likes to eat you out before having sex. When he's the one who's stressed out, you give him a handjob or blowjob but you never finish as he'd personally prefer cumming using your pussy.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

It varies on the mood, situation, and both of your conditions.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Quickies happen a lot before you go to work. Who wouldn't be tempted when their partner looks all so dapper and composed while you still bask in the high of last night's memory? A small kiss won't hurt, right? maybe add a blowjob while you're at it? Oh, who's the both of you kidding? Of course, you'll both end up on the couch with Zayne being 30 minutes in his early arrival.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He plays safe, but if he loses a bet or you manage to convince him through some special means, then he will play along as long as whatever you are doing is safe and doesn't cost his dignity too much.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)

On days when he's stressed, he needs to ejaculate quickly, and this could happen within 10 to 15 minutes. If he's more relaxed and wants to take his time with you, he could go for around 25 minutes before cumming and needing a break. By then, you would've orgasmed twice or thrice, depending on if Zayne is aiming for the right spots.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Zayne has a tenga cup which he used even before you got together. When you get together, he rarely uses it, but when you accidentally find it tucked under the bed, you would sometimes greet his morning boner by using the toy on him. When you're mad at him and bind him to the bed, you'd also torture him with it by edging him.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Your lover doesn't like to tease. He gets straight to the point.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

His breaths are very audible. You can hear him losing his breath in the middle of thrusts, and you can hear him let out a groan when you squeeze your insides on purpose. When you just feel too good, and he's really sensitive, he will let out a long moan while looking up into the ceiling, basking in the sensation.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

As much as he advocates for safe sex, he doesn't like using condoms, but he still does. To him, you were tight and warm, which is good and all but with even that .001 thin condom, he really just can't feel all of you

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Well, chiseled abs, a prominent v line, and a back full of claw marks.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

When you got together, you would think that he's the type to be low-key with his sex drive, but you were proven wrong when you get pounded every other night. He lasts longer than you, too, and can make you orgasm beyond the number of fingers you have in one hand.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Zayne never falls alseep before you. You don't know where he pulls the energy from especially during seasons where the hospital is extremely busy. Sometimes, you manage to stay half awake to see him take care of you, but there are also times when you just drift off mid-sex after a toe-curling orgasm.

Author's footnotes: Hehe I like doing stuff like these, it allows me to get into the nitty gritty details of the character~ will be updating this post with the oink to the other characters once I upload them.

Layout by me using canva premium | Do not repost

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Jamil Viper: A Web, Tangled

Aaand here we go with the Relaxing in Room line of birthday cards :v d ehebkwjw It’s so funny that they chuck pillows to attack??? (By the way, congrats to this Jamil card overloading and crashing the JP server 😂)

For this series of birthday ficlets, I’ll focus on writing each birthday boy preparing to walk to school with the reader (since the duo partner barely appears in the vignettes). Can be read platonically or romantically, whatever you prefer~

Rise and Shine!

You lingered by the doorway, your eyes glued on Jamil.

He was preoccupied with glimpsing himself in a mirror set on a table. Before him were various accessories from a jeweled box. (Judging from the gaudiness of the massive rubies on it, it must have been a gift from Kalim.)

Loose tresses the color of dark chocolate tumbled down his back. When Jamil ran a brush through them, the sun caught and his hair tempered, turning lustrous.

You’d seen him massage his scalp with oil-slicked hands before—and again, he diid it, followed by some sort of a cream. The routine left his head moisturized smelling faintly of jasmine. Jamil never compromised when it came to hair care.

You often had to remind yourself that he was not a princess, entrancing as he was. The sway of his hair, the snap of his steps. Each movement, close to a part in a mysterious dance.

Jamil produced his magical pen. The magestone laid in it was as clear as a cloudless day, and the color of blood that had been left out for a little too long.

Now came the spectacle, the very highlight of your entire morning.

Jamil raised the pen as if he was a conductor waving his baton. A hush fell over an imaginary audience, a collective of breaths held in anticipation. This is it, this is it.

He flicked his wrist, and the magic flowed.

A trail of scarlet light emanated whenever Jamil drew his wand. The accessories laid out on his desk floated up, compelled, in a neat line. A band with a feather dangling from it, narrow golden bangles, flat beads that clinked like coins.

His dark locks lifted, dividing themselves into even sections, then into even smaller ones. They carefully twisted over and under each other, weaving into tight braids. Accessories slid on, effortlessly fitting themselves at his direction.

His intricate hairstyle assembled quickly, as if arranging the pieces of a familiar puzzle.

The red sparkles faded into a fine shimmer and then into nothing at all. As the last traces of magic settled, you bursted into applause.

“Bravo, bravo! Great show as always,” you said appreciatively.

“… That wasn’t a performance,” Jamil corrected as he set his magical pen down.

“It might as well be! It takes some serious skill to pull that off every morning.” You gestured to him. “And so fast!“

“Anyone could accomplish it with enough time and practice.” His words choice was humble, but there was a hint of a smirk in his tone.

A rare moment of triumph for him.

“Not just anyone. I think you’ve got a natural talent for this kind of thing,” you grinned broadly, “like a spider!”

Jamil’s neutral expression splintered, leaving jagged edges exposed. His left eyes twitched, pupils pinpricks.

“Excuse me? In what way do I remind you of a vile bug?”

“Hey, don’t knock spiders! You guys have similar skills. The braids, the webs. You make’m well, all nice and strong. No strands out of place.”

“That doesn’t reassure me,” he groused, a hand on his hip. “I’d prefer if you didn’t compare me to them. It feels wrong.”

Jamil shivered. Not from the cold, but with repulsion.

You gave a laugh—soft against the rising morning sun. “Really? But you’re so alike in other ways too.”

His eyes narrowed into suspicious slivers. Mildly offended, perhaps.

“Elaborate,” he commanded.

“They’re hard working and important but under-appreciated,” you pointed out. “Without spiders, there would actually be a lot more bugs around. We should be more grateful to have spiders’ webs.”

There was a pause, deliberate. Then a gentle prompt.

“… Remind you of anyone?”

Jamil scoffed. It was as loud as a thunderclap in his suddenly cavernous bedroom.

“Maybe.”

Two syllables, clipped. An acknowledgment.

“Jamil-senpai…?”

He hurriedly looked away, staring at the wall for likely longer than what was deemed appropriate. Any more, whether in length or in intensity, and he might have burned a hole in it. His face, hotter than the Scalding Sands.

Your brows shot up. “… Ah. Could it be that you’re feeling embarrassed?”

“What? No, don’t be ridiculous. Something like this couldn’t possibly ruffle me.”

You craned your body, attempting to meet his gaze. But he wrenched away, denying that to you. “Then why aren’t you looking at me when you say that?”

“I need to get ready for class,” he replied dismissively. “So close the door and wait outside while I change out of my pajamas.”

“Now you’re just changing the subject!”

“Well, we’ll both be running late if we continue to dawdle,” Jamil warned—a tactful evasive maneuver.

His hands found their way onto your arms, steering you into the hallway. You turned back, mouth opening to protest, but Jamil had already sealed himself off.

Banging and calling out to him was no good. Kicking resulted in you gripping onto your poor foot and whimpering. You were left in a sorry state, back to the door as you rested on the floor.

On the other side, Jamil was surely having a little laugh. Cheeks still burning from the praise showered upon him, basking in the afterglow of it.

You sighed.

A spider makes its web to deceive flies into getting stuck in it. Jamil-senpai can be just as tricky.

[marksbear2]

Hii I was wondering if you would write for TASM peter. Also would you write the smut ABC's for any characters because I haven't seen one for him and I'd love to see it (specifically from nwh for this)

PETER PARKER X MALE READER

This is my first time ever writing one of these!! Uhm so I’m still struggling with my mental health and stuff but I promised that I’ll be back before the 23rd so here I am!

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Very shocked but like in the goofy awkward way. He likes to cuddle and hold you close while smiling ear to ear. He likes to tell you his favorite things you did.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He likes his hands, to hold and grip you close and close with him. He likes your arms the way you hold him tightly and he likes seeing your arms flex, also your back.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He likes facials, both receiving and giving them. He’s let you shoot your cum on his face and especially when he wears his glasses.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He wouldn’t mind doing it somewhere publicly but safe. Like in the bathroom stall during school or alone at night in the park.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

None, the only experience he has was watching porn. Lmao.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Missionary or mating press, anything that you two are close enough to make eye contact and to kiss.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

At first when you two just start out having sex he’ll let out nervous chuckles. But as you two get closer he’ll crack a joke here and there while moaning.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He’s not that wildly bushy but he is hairy, but it’s neat and sometimes trimmed. But on some occasion yes he is bushy.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Completely focused on you like he’s in a trance, nothing else crosses his mind only you. He wants to see you and be close with you.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He jerks off pretty often, whenever you two are alone but too tired to have sex you’ll two will jerk one another off, maybe edging to.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

He loves roleplaying, you or him could wear his Spider-Man suit while the other would be a fan or villain. Or other roleplays like jock and nerd.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

His or your room, or the living room on the couch. He can get off doing literally anywhere so

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Hearing you say his name, hearing his name roll off your tongue, he’ll already be ready for the next round it doesn’t matter who’s the top.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Someone watching or like being cucked. He would literally crash out because he thinks the thought of s someone watching is embarrassing but someone actually wanting to have sex with you makes him wanna commit.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He loves giving head, he’ll be under the table or blanket sucking you off until your dick literally can’t cum anynore.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Depends on the moment, when you two both are okay and happy he would fuck you or take it in a fast but deep pace but when you two aren’t okay he likes to take it slow as deep but very gentle.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He actually likes quickies, he would try to get off as fast as he could. You two probably do it moe often then most would.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

He’s willingly to take risk and try out new things no matter how confusing or scary it’ll be. He has an ‘You only live once’ type of mindset.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Four maybe six, he can take a lot even if your extremely rough with him. But after a long and hard rough day of hero work maybe only one round.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He owns rope and such, it’s for either of you two be tied up he doesn’t really care. Sometimes he’d use his web slinger to tie you up onto something so it’s sturdy.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He likes to tease, he’ll give you flirty signals and winks and make innocent things like drinking water seem dirty.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He’s pretty loud, he whines and moans while he gasps a lot.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Whenever he’s super exhausted he would cockwarm you, you could softly thrust into him or not and just hold and cuddle him.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He’s one of those skinny guys with a expressive dick. He’s about 5’4 inches when he’s soft and an solid 8 in when he’s hard. He’s an real grower.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

He’s very horny, he’s not a pervert or anything but when your in the mood he’ll be in the mood to. He’s buzzing with easy arousal.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

It takes him a while to fall asleep because he’s just yapping about how much he likes having sex with you and such but when you two are finally getting quiet he’ll drift to sleep in your arms.

THE END

[krysmcscience]

BILLDUMP TIME (with transparency, because I can). Don't mind me, I'm just yeeting my goofy art at some way more talented individuals out of nowhere and then hauling ass back to the security of being a weird silent lurker ahaha

@tesscourtes and @beccadrawsstuff, respectively! These two Bills make a little prism of sorts together because of their recent crossovers on Patreon~ :3c Speaking of which, I highly recommend supporting both these artists! They do fantastic work! (TessCourtes and Beccup)

@qoolk on the left, and @monobmp on the right! I am such a sucker for these outfits~ OuO Go and check these two out, their art is phenomenal!!! >u<

@1spooky2me The most difficult Bill of the lot for me to draw, ahaha... Their art is so incredibly consistent and dynamic, I am, a little envious <:,) A little envious, but mostly impressed, so go look at their amazing art, what are you waiting for

And finally, @ckret2, whose writing is sublimely in-character and just a delight to read - they're a great artist, as well! I simply Could Not resist drawing their Bill in this ridiculous incredible and very fashionable pink feather dress, even though he only briefly wears it in their fic, so I also did a little bonus doodle of him in his standard hoodie to make up for it. XD (Also, as far as I'm concerned, Bill and Mabel were both correct in that lime green accessories make the dress Much Better.)

This is just a small selection of the human Bill designs I enjoy. I may draw and post more later on, who knows! Feel free to reblog with some neat Bill designs, either your own or by other folks - if any of the designs particularly call to me, I'll add them to the little list I've got going~ :D (Alternatively, if you really like my stuff and want me to draw something specific, you could...mmm...perhaps, commission me...? OuO)

Also I'm tagging Billford because uhhhh yeah, sorry not sorry, every single one of these Bills is getting shipped with Ford by the artists in some way or another, lmao

[a-b-riddle]

Different Tastes: John & his Sweetheart

The '141' stops as soon as they are back home. After that, they are just close friends. Simon, John, Kyle and Johnny had managed to settle down and find themselves sweet little things. All who adore their brave men and all who share different tastes

In this 'series', it's essentially bits of each of the 141 one and their kinks they have with their partners. With that being said, I don't really care if you think that Soap is submissive or Ghost is into CNC/Primal play. That's great. But in this fantasy, this is what it is. It's what I wanted to write. If you want Kyle Garrick to be a pleasure Dom and John to be a Daddy Dom. Cool. Go find other fictions that write that, or be the one to write them. I'm not going to argue about what kinks they would really have.

CW: NSFW. aniligus on male and female anatomy. D/s dynamics. Name calling. Degradation. Oral. Humiliation. Aftercare. Mentions of pornography. Not establishing safe-words. Poor understanding of establishing BDSM boundaries too late. (Not in a non-con way. But two people who don't really have prior experience to BDSM).

MINORS DNI

John and his girl are perfect for each other. For his career, it's very difficult to turn the Captain mode 'off'. He's used to giving orders and taking control over situations. It had been a problem in all of his previous relationships.

So when he found you, his perfect girl, he would have moved the moon if it meant making you happy. Add into the fact that you did like to switch your brain on autopilot and let John control mostly everything, it worked out well for both of you.

Where do you want to eat tonight?

What do you think I should wear?

I'm getting kind of sick of my hair? What do you think? Longer, shorter? Darker? Lighter?

You always relied on his opinion and followed it.

John couldn't get enough. You never got sick of hearing his thoughts and opinions. You didn't get pissed when he gave you what sounded very much like an order. To you it was John being John. He didn’t simply stop being a Captain when he wasn’t in the field and you were content with that. Liked it even.

But soon enough his bossing around had taken you both down a slippery slope. You had always wanted to explore BDSM and each order in your everyday life made you fantasize about John as a Dominant. Your sex life with John was already fantastic and he always took the lead anyway. So it felt only natural to add-in some kinkier aspects. John wasn't opposed to tying you up. Dishing out occasional discipline when you did something wrong until you ultimately admitted you hated it.

You felt when he 'punished' you, you disappointed him. John's palms started to itch when you confessed that you would much rather him spank you simply because he wanted to. So he did. Whenever he pleased. Often bending you over the counter and giving you a few swats. Your pussy already dripping for him by the time he was finished.

Deeper and deeper you dove down to more than just tying you up and spanking your ass until your juices practically leaked down to your thighs. Service submission had been what you liked the most. If John told you to be on your knees when he got home with a whiskey neat in one hand and a plate of food in the other, you did it.

When you told him this, he started casually mentioning what kind of wedding ring styles you liked.

Eventually you admitted you like being degraded.

"I know you love me," you said one night. Lazily sitting on the couch with John after a dinner date with Kyle and his girlfriend. "And respect me." Butterflies fluttered uncomfortably in your stomach. You didn’t want John to think you liked being abused per se, but this is something you’ve wanted to try with him for so long. "but I don't always need to feel like I’m respected during sex."

John didn't pull his arm off of you as he turned to face you better. His head tilting to the side when he asked you to elaborate. You felt your cheeks heat up as you told him how you wanted him to treat you like a toy. That during a scene, you wanted to feel like he had total control over your body. You could outline actions and phrases you were okay with if it made him feel better about doing it. Even developing safe words.

There hadn't been a need for safe words up until this point. If you asked John to stop, he stopped. If you complained about something hurting, he still stopped and either readjusted, or ended the scene. But this time you confessed that you didn't want ‘no’ to be an option. No felt like you weren't being his good girl. You knew it didn’t make you bad for stopping but it just helped in some weird way you couldn’t quite explain.

He agreed. First came the colors. Then the limits. And most importantly, the fantasies.

After that John finally admitted that he wanted to try anal play on you since you didn't list it as a limit. He’s always fantasized about it, but he had always felt uncomfortable asking you. At first you thought he simply meant a finger up your ass. Some poking and prodding that led up to anal.

However, with the new found confidence to truly divulge his desires to you. John laid it all out.

Price knows what he likes and he absolutely loves worshipping any part of you he can get his hands or mouth on.

The first time he ate your ass it quite literally stole your breath. He had you bent over his desk; his scattered reports long forgotten. You had just gotten home from work. He heard the opening and shutting of the door before grabbing his phone. He had texted you to come into his office in 30 minutes.

Your outfit is on the bed. I’m in my office. Bring me a drink. Daddy feels like drinking some whiskey and eating a peach.

That was your signal. You were a nervous fucking wreck as you got ready.

Before you knew it, he had you bent over with two fingers in your cunt, rubbing that sweet spot while his tongue explored a place no one else ever had.

Months laters, neither of you were no longer shy about John taking you however he wanted. Whether that was hogtied with your ass in the air or you humping his boot when he ordered you to show him how much of a desperate little slut you were.

He loved seeing you so desperate for him. He was obsessed in the way you tensed when he had you bent over. Licking a long stripe from your clit all the way to your puckered hole before settling there.

What was once an occasional thing became a weekly occurrence.

As expected, the two of you eventually tried anal after realizing how good his tongue felt in your ass. The first time he fucked your ass he spent what felt like forever working his thick fingers inside of you before finally working your way up to take his cock. He refused to have such an intimate first thing be in any sort of scenario where he wasn't soft and loving. If you wanted it to be degrading, it would just have to wait.

John was a stern man, but he took care of you. This wasn't something that would be initially pleasant for you and he was damned and determined to make this a good experience by the end of it.

Because of the lack of pressure he put on you to just take it, you had loved it. Even craved it now. You loved when he called you a pathetic little whore after you followed his order of bending over and spreading your ass cheeks for him. You loved when he told you how pretty you looked before landing a glob of spit on your puckered asshole. You loved how he made you beg him to fuck your ass when it was that time of the month; that you were so desperate for his cock you will take it in any hole.

But funny enough, as much quality time John seemed to have with your asshole, you can't really remember if you've ever seen his. Sure, you’ve seen his bare ass sauntering around the house and in the shower, but he’s never been in a compromising position while naked.

Even funnier, you're not sure if you've ever really seen a guy's asshole. So down the rabbit hole of pornhub you went until you found what eating ass was also known as.

Rimming.

And more importantly, how men were rimmed. Your curiosity had eventually grown to wondering what it was like. What would it be like?

So you just asked him.

At first he laughed, assuming you were joking. But then you shamelessly admitted to finding it hot. You confessed how the porn you’ve been watching had pretty much centered around male worship. Although the underarm area and feet were usually something you skipped over, seeing women on their knees giving rimjobs was something that made your core ache when you thought about doing it with John.

To say he was flustered was an understatement. He tried to dissuade you. Insisting that it was, well, gross were his exact words. When a flash of hurt crossed your face he realized his mistake.

It wasn’t that he thought the act itself was gross per se. He felt as though he was gross. "Too gross to let a pretty little thing like you do that." Yet it didn’t deter you from showing him how much you wanted him.

With a little bit of assurance that it’s something you wanted to do, not just reciprocate what he had been doing, he relented. Although, having you on your knees, hump his boot practically begging to with tears in your eyes did make him believe you actually wanted this. John loved when you begged him, but always felt the need to tell you yes when he wasn't serving as your dominant.

Yes. John loved taking charge, but he hated telling you no when you hardly ever asked for anything.

So. It was a safety measure John and you had put into place. When you wanted something that he may say no to because he felt as if it would degrade you as a partner, you didn’t ask as his partner; you asked as his submissive. This put in the acknowledgment that he wasn't making the decision as a partner. John was going to do what he thought best, whether or not you agreed to it. You always set the precent, gave him the permission to be the one to make the decisions. It showed him that you trusted him and whatever he decided.

John always felt more freely when you had gotten in your sub space. He felt more confident in telling you no or giving you orders. He had spent so long being the one to call the shots in his career, he was always afraid of his domineering nature taking control in the relationship.

Your confidence in him meant everything.

He had just gotten home from an extended stay on base. Usually you were able to get a facetime or a call here and there, but besides the occasional texts you were met with radio silence for almost five days.

It wasn't until he came home Saturday just before lunch. You had snacked all day, suddenly feeling guilty you hadn't even gotten groceries for the week. You offered to order something when he told you he hadn't eaten lunch, but he declined.

"C'mere, sweetheart." He ordered pointing right at his boots. A soft smile played on his lips as you sank down to your knees and crawled over to him. John took a deep breath. Reminding himself he can't fuck you right now. Not when he finally built up the courage to do what he was about to do.

“I need to freshen up." He said, squatting down until he was almost eye level with you. "Open." He ordered. Without hesitation, you opened your mouth, tongue out prepared to let him do whatever he wanted. He gently grabbed your tongue, holding it between his thumb and finger before giving it a light squeeze. Drool already slipping out of your mouth. "When I get out of the shower, I expect you to be in our room, on all fours with this pretty little tongue to worship me. Understand, sweetheart?"

Your eyes widened as you felt your core involuntarily clenching around nothing. Fuck. This was so hot. Fuck. This was happening. It was happening.

John stood at his full height before heading to the master bedroom. You waited until you heard the clicking of the door before practically sprinting behind him.

You sat on your knees, anxiously listening to the sound of the running water from the bathroom. You wondered how he would discuss it. Both of you played out possible scenarios and weeded out ones you were absolutely not okay with doing.

One scenario you agreed on was you laying on your back with your head hanging off the bed. John would face fuck you for a bit before he got into a sixty-nine position. He would have the view of you playing with your greedy little pussy. You would lap at him like a pathetic whore while he stroked his cock before he finally came all over your tits.

One thing John didn't feel comfortable doing was simply bending over on his hands and knees. Hiking up a leg, sure. But something about the position made him feel vulnerable and he just didn't want to try it.

Waiting patiently by the foot of the bed. On your hands and knees like a good girl, you head the water shut off.

Fresh out of the shower, John walked over to you before sitting down on the bed. You waited for his order. Never jumping the gun and simply taking him the moment he waved his cock in front of your face.

He spread his thighs apart, letting his limp cock hang near the edge of the bed. "Put my cock in your mouth, but don't suck. Just want you to warm him up a bit." You immediately take him in your mouth without hesitation. Loving the way you feel his cock slowly harden.

You maintain eye contact, trying hard not to move your tongue. Fighting every urge to start sucking and being a good little whore. When he finally give you permission, he still sets the pace. His hand firm on the back of your neck.

"Go at your own pace, sweetheart." He said, kissing your forehead. "Just remember," He reminded, his voice still gentle. "Mo fingers and stop if you need to, yeah?" You nod, remembering that he's doing this for you.

He scooted down further on the bed before laying on his back. Legs spread.

You weren't really sure where to start. So you just started slow. Built up to the same way John did to you when he was the one licking your ass. You started with soft kisses. Letting your teeth graze over the skin of his thighs, getting closer and closer to where you wanted to be.

You felt him stiffen as you got closer. You gave a soft kiss before waiting for him to tell you to stop.

He doesn't.

You continue.

You start soft. Closing your eyes and licking and mouthing at his asshole like you were making out with it.

"Fuck." You hear him curse, but he doesn't tell you to stop.

"Can I please rub my pussy, Sir?" You asked, your hands aching to touch your wet cunt.

"Yes." He granted, his hand starting to slowly stroke his cock. "But you still need permission to cum." He reminded before closing his eyes and letting you continue.

With low curses and gasps falling from his mouth you became more and more enthralled. Your face pressing harder and harder against him. Trying to get your tongue as deep inside him as you possibly could.

The humiliation of it all making you feel already so close to falling over the edge. Your fingers rubbed methodical circles around your clit as you began mindlessly nodding your head along, tongue sticking out; lapping at his asshole like the stupid little bitch you were.

“You like that, huh? Licking me like the dirty little slut that you are." He said, knowing that was something you wanted to be told.

“Yes, Sir." You admitted, only breaking away briefly to answer him before resuming servicing him.

“Damn fucking right.” He growled out. "That's my good little whore. Worshipping my fucking asshole." His words made you clench around nothing. Making you wish you had asked to use a dildo or the fucking machine instead.

Next time. You thought.

"Can-fuck-" He pants tugging harder at his cock, his orgasm building. "Can I push your head, sweetheart?" It wasn't something the two of you had went over, but he wanted to be sure. During blowjobs were fine, but you had never done this before.

"Yes! Please!" You pant out before feeling his hand grab a hold of the back of your head and pulling you deeper into him.

You manage to spit, making it sloppier, wetter. Easier for you face to glide and knowing it probably felt better for him too. It's not too long before Price finds himself grinding pathetically against your face. "Fuck, sweetheart." He pants. "Fuck that feels so good."

You could barely breathe. Your mouth too busy lapping away at his asshole to bother breathing. Your nose pressed too hard against his taint to get any air. You decided if this is how you die... well, you wouldn't hate it. Hard

"Can I cum? Can I cum?" You repeated. Your voice muffled, but John knew what you wanted.

"Cum, but don't you fucking stop." He ordered. His grip tightening, legs beginning to tense. "I'm so close. Don't stop, sweetheart."

You kept going. Your jaw beginning to become sore as you kept going. Not even stopping when you felt John's body shake. Not stopping when your own orgasm took hold of you. Tears falling from the intensity of it all.

Not stopping when you heard him release a string of curses and praises. Not stopping when you felt his cum landing on the top of your head. Only slowing when he began to relax. Only stopping until he finally pulled you away.

You sat on your heels. Hands placed on your thighs. Waiting for him to look up at you. You were in position just waiting for fall apart. Trying so hard to be his good girl.

Finally he collected himself enough to manage to sit up. He looked down at you, marveling at the sight.

Mascara smeared. Face covered in spit. His cum now dripping from your head down to your face. Fuck, you looked beautiful.

Fuck.

Your hair.

Was that something you agreed on doing?

Fuck.

You had both agreed on him coming in you, on your face, tits, pussy or ass. Hell, you even agreed to lick it off of him or if any of it fell onto the hardwood. But you never went over if coming in your hair.

"Sorry, sweetheart." He apologized, swiping at a string of cum on your eye brown, threatening to make its' way into your pretty eyes. "Should have asked if your hair was okay." You smiled hazily at his concern, but honestly thought it was a little funny. This man pushed your face into his asshole while he called you filthy things and he was worried that you were concerned over a little cum in your hair.

"Let's get you cleaned up, yeah?" All you could do was nod as John hauled you to your feet and practically carrying you to the shower.

Tenderly, he got the oil based cleanser and began to clean your face as gentle as he could. It wasn’t methodical and not necessarily the best way, but he was too worried about rubbing your face too harshly knowing how raw it probably felt.

You didn’t care. You always marveled in the tenderness of his touch after an intense scene. Basked in his words of praise and adoration after he debased and dehumanized you. It was therapeutic. To be taken so low only to have the same man build you back up.

He spoke lowly in your ear. “Did so well for me, sweet girl.” After he ran the soft spray of water over your face, he pulled you tightly to his chest. You felt his lips press on your wet hair. “Made me feel so fucking good.”

You felt your knees weaken, but John continued to pamper you. Being sure to take extra care in washing your face again until at the remanets of your messed up make up was gone.

"You liked it?" You asked, closing in your eyes. Relishing in his touch.

"Yes, baby." He answered. "I loved it." Your chest swelled with pride. He liked it. He liked your fantasy too.

"Would you wanna do it again?" You asked, praying the answer was yes.

"I'd love that." You hummed in contentment as he turned you around, now starting on your hair.

Although John had never came in your hair before, he had learned your washing routine to the point of perfection and honestly his touch felt so much better than your own. It was a way of aftercare now, but initially he learned when you had hit a sub drop.

Neither of you knew that it even existed before it was too late. And two days after an intense scene you still hadn't washed your hair.

When he finally finished, he grabbed one of the microfiber towels you used to dry your hair. He methodically and gently squeezed out the access water before wrapping you in a huge towel. He stayed behind in the shower for only a minute to wash away your spit before joining you.

He took your hand, leading you to the sinks before turning you around to face him. You hated this part. It was when you were the most exhausted and you wanted to just crawl into bed. "Gotta dry it, Sweetheart." He said, sitting you down on the bathroom counter. "Just relax. Let me handle it."

So you did. You let John handle it. Let him have the power. It always worked out better for you anyway.

Eventually, John was satisfied and picked you back up. You were half asleep, barely holding on when he tucked you in. He pulled your back close to his chest.

It was nearing the end of your aftercare. John was scrolling on doordash, trying to find something that would be good to eat as he always did, asking for input. Sometimes you offered it. Mostly you said anything he wanted was fine. He always made sure it would be delivered after an hour. Giving you enough time to bask in the post-coital cuddles.

He continued talking. How much he enjoyed it. What he wouldn't mind trying next. Your eye were growing heavier and heavier the more he spoke. A brief moment of silence passed before he spoke again.

“You know,” he started. “Johnny was mentioning something about pet play with his girl.” It wasn't surprising. The four men of the 141 weren't shy in telling the others what them and the missus had been up to in the bedroom. Even going as far as to let the girls play together, but making it a point to never share.

None of them had any interest in letting another man touch what belonged to them, but they didn't mind letting the girls indulge in a little girl time.

“Heaven knows that MacTavish needs to be collared.” You said, feeling the edges of sleep beginning to take over your vision. You tried to stifle a yawn as you spoke, to no avail while John barked out a laugh.

“Who says Johnny's the dog?” He asked.

[literallyalbertcamus]

okay literally god bless you for writing about angus tully 🧎‍♀️

angus and reader have a “study date” but its just an excuse for mr tully to admire and try and make out with reader :3

(if you’re comfortable writing ofc 🫶)

Can’t Take My Eyes off You – Angus Tully.

(This is the first request for a headcanon i writte since i was twelve, a little short but i did my best. There where 910 words in spanish)

Going to the library that day had been his idea, you were stressed about a chemistry exam, twenty-five percent of your semester grade, which wouldn't have been much if it weren't for your normally deplorable grades in the subject. That's why Angus, being the attentive boyfriend that he is, proposed to help you study. So now there you were, probably the only two people besides the librarian in the building, at one of the back tables hidden behind shelves full of books, side by side with your books and notebooks open on the table.

You two had been in that situation for at least an hour, when you had finally begun to understand the subject matter so he leaned back in the seat with his arms crossed behind his head watching you write flash cards so as not to forget what you had struggled so hard to understand and what Angus had so patiently explained to you. Your hair was tied back but a lock of it fell over your forehead, you were wearing Angus' favorite mini skirt, a burgundy color that contrasted beautifully with your legs in his opinion, you were also wearing a new perfume your mother had given you that smelled exquisite, the last two buttons of your black blouse were undone and a third was threatening to come undone as you bent over to write on the flash cards. Practically a pleasure to look at in your opinion.

Sometimes it was hard for him to believe that you had agreed to be his girlfriend, and watching the sunlight fall on your face softly there in the library was one of those times.

“Do you have much left to write?” He asked you leaning over your shoulder.

“No, just three more cards” you muttered.

He stood in that position watching you write, your handwriting was curved and hurried, not very neat compared to his but he liked that, how authentic you were compared to his world and everything around him.

“Stop looking at me, i need to finish this”

At that he just smiled and moved closer to you, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“I like your perfume” he murmured into your neck and wrapped his arms around your torso, sometimes he liked to do that when you were together, just hug you and hide his face in your neck “ ‘s really nice... smells like candy”

Your fruity perfume represented exactly your scent in his personal opinion, completely sweet. The truth is that Angus absolutely adored everything about you, from your perfume to the way your hands fit his, or how good your lips felt against his, you were basically God in his eyes and could do no wrong.

“Enough! I need to finish this” you let out a giggle trying to get a little away from him to continue writing “come on, Angus I'm serious!”

“Nop, you’re just so sweet i want to eat you”

He began to spread little pecks down your neck, at first soft and not so close together, at first they caused you nothing but tickles and a slight blush because it was harmless, just his arms around you and his slender long fingers firm on your waist, so you managed to finish one of the cards, then when you leaned over to take another of the pink sheets of paper, Angus took the opportunity to move a little closer, and when you sat down the side of your back was on his chest now leaning towards your body.

“You're such a tease” you mumbled looking sideways at him, his smile bigger after your comment.

“Not my fault i have a total babe in my arms”

That made you stop writing and slowly turn around, his cheeks red as he tried not to start laughing.

“Oh my god! Stop it!”

“Only if you kiss me, doll”

Now the one who was red was you, trying to refocus on the sheet in front of you. Calling you nicknames like "doll" or "baby" had started after one afternoon at the pub where you two overheard a group of Barton boys talking about what girls liked, or at least what girls liked according to them, a group of teenage boys who had never interacted with a girl their age and who's only knowledge of the female body came from the hands of playboy.

You thought it was over when you were halfway through the important information, when you felt Angus' lips on your neck again, this time leaving wet kisses for every corner he had access to, you still weren't going to let him get away with it because that test was really important and you needed to learn that information at least until you finished it. That worked for a while until you were done with that card.

“Oh!”

That vicious bastard bitted you.

“Come on, you've learned all that already! Let me take care of you” he whimpered against your neck, his hands roaming your waist and what he could reach of your legs “You're so smart, there's no way you're going to fail that stupid test!”

“Well... maybe, maybe i can have a little break” you bargained, letting yourself be tempted by the kisses that trailed up from your collarbone to your cheek and down again “But! If you leave a hickey its over” you threatened him seriously as you turned around to drape your leg over his and sit nicely in his lap.

“Yes ma’am”

“Now stop teasing and kiss me right, pretty boy”

[ann1-wr1tes]

Luis Sera NSFW Alphabet

Dynamics: Luis Sera x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: Spicy Alphabet

Warnings: Adult themes, obviously smut

A/N: I just love Luis so, so, so, so much. He is my bbg so ofc I had to write for him.

------

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

-Luis is so sweet with aftercare. He'll hold you close while peppering kisses all over your face and he'll call you plenty of petnames in Spanish. Now he is a bit lazy so he'll probably want to rest a bit before he runs a bath or shower but he just wants to make sure you are cozy and feel good.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

-On you he loves your eyes. He loves how expressive they are, how he could just get lost in your lustful gaze while he kneels between your thighs or rolls his hips into yours.

-On himself he likes his mouth. Not only does he talk a lot, but he can put his mouth to good use by kissing you, leaving hickies on your skin, or nestling his face between your thighs.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

-On your chest. He loves to cum all over your chest and watch as it drips everywhere and makes a mess. In his opinion you look beautiful covered in his seed.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

-He wants to be pegged. Is that a bit of a blunt way of saying it? Yes. But I can totally see Luis just wanting to be ruined by you in such a way that it has his eyes rolling back into his head and his entire body shivering as he comes undo all over his stomach...

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

-Luis has decent experience. Not as crazy as everyone thinks, but Luis isn't a stranger to having sex and is actually quite experienced with it.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

-Now as freaky as we all like to imagine Luis to be, I think he'd enjoy missionary. As simple as it is, it gives him the perfect view of your face, letting him see all you pretty facial expressions, gauge all your emotions. It makes it all more intimate and sweet, getting watch your reactions and how your body feels while he experiences it with you.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

-Luis can never be too serious, lets be honest. He loves to crack a good joke here and there but I think he mainly leans more heavy on the teasing remarks. He keeps it heated and flirty to not ruin the mood but of course he's going to crack a joke when its needed as well.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

-Not bare, but neat. He doesn't like to shave it all completely and opts for having it trimmed neatly, leaving hair behind and of course his happy trail...ifykyk.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

-Luis can get very into it. When you set aside his teasing and few jokes, he's looking at you with love in his eyes. Every time you moan or your body reacts to him, he swears he's been graced by an angel. So he can be pretty passionate and sweet in the moment. Not to mention all the sickly sweet Spanish pet names he'd be calling you while he coaxes sweet sounds out of you.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

-Without a s/o he'd probably do it on a regular basis. Y'know just relieve stress and whatnot but why would he bother getting himself off when he has you? If you are together then you best believe that he will be coming to you and he won't even bother masturbating unless you aren't around or in the mood.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

-Okay hear me out....hair pulling. When he's going down on you, he's got his head nestled between your thighs, his tongue prodding and licking up all your slick while his hands trail up to your chest...this man is making you see stars and your hands are tangled in his hair. You are so close to cumming so you pull him closer by his hair, accidentally tugging a little and he lets out the sweetest moan. He's got long beautiful hair for a reason and gosh he loves when you play with it or give it a good tug to show him how well he's doing.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

-He doesn't care. As long as you have some sort of privacy he's down.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

-Just you in general. He truly believes that you are so perfect, so beautiful. It's honestly a challenge for him to keep his hands off of you but I think that anything you do to initiate it has him getting all hot and bothered whether that be a steamy kiss or your hands working off his clothes...he's just down bad.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

-Anything that could hurt you. So obviously no weapons, I don't think he'd be huge into impact play and would get nervous with choking. If you asked nicely for him to choke you, he may think about it but don't expect him to go too hard..

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

-LOVES GIVING! One of his favorite things is just laying down on his stomach and burying his head into your heat. It's just so easy, so nice, so relaxing to him. It's easy for him to get lost in all of you while your gushing on his tongue and your thighs are squeezing around his head...he swears he could die happy right then and there. (heaven forbid you sit on his face, he'll beg you to do it again when you finish)

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

-He prefers a slow more deep pace. He likes to take his time with you, feel you, show you how much he wants you and loves you. Of course if you want It rough he'll oblige but he prefers to just take his time while he's making you see stars.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

-So like I said, he likes to take his time but if you both are in a rush then there's nothing wrong with a little quickie here and there. He will want to get you alone again to really get to be slow and take his time but he isn't opposed to a quickie.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

-Luis doesn't mind taking some risks. As long as you can't get hurt then he's fine with trying anything at least once.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

-So because Luis likes to go slower, his rounds last a decent bit. So i'd say maybe two rounds, three if he's really feeling needy. Plus lets add in the foreplay which he always does beforehand...its safe to say that your mind will be melted by the end of it all.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

-I think he may own one or two toys. Like maybe a fleshlight or cock ring? But nothing too insane. If you have some though or wanted to use toys he would love to oblige. He'd let you use some on him too..

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

-SUCH A DAMN TEASE! During foreplay he won't shut up! Like bro is dirty talking, cooing at you and calling you sweet nicknames in Spanish. He teases you and goes..."Mi Vida, you're so wet." or "Keep making those pretty sounds for me Carino~"

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

-Noisy asf. He's got a loud mouth and will make it known when he's feeling good. I think it consists of a lot of grunts and whines in the beginning that turn into panting and loud moans with lots of dirty talk mixed in.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

-If you take the time to really love on him and specifically love on the scar on his chest that he got from extracting the Las Plagas he will melt. Trace it and presses kisses against the scar and its game over. He'll look at you with hearts in his eyes.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

-Thick enough to stretch you out and long enough to hit all the deep spots. I'd say maybe 7 inches with a few veins running along his shaft and a pretty, flushed tip when he's aroused.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

-Very high sex drive, esp with you. He's the man who would end up having wet dreams about you and you may wake up to him rutting against your ass bc he's pent up.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

-Tries his hardest to sleep after you have fallen asleep first. He honestly also loves to just watch you drift off. You look so perfect, so peaceful and still in his arms. He can run his hands through your hair, press kisses to your cheeks while you doze off.

[moralesmilesanhour]

Maybe write about very protective miles?

I actually got two requests for this same prompt, so I'm gonna combine them! :D

You thought there would just be a light drizzle on the way back from the bodega when you felt two cold rain drops lightly tap your forehead. The concrete became dotted with dark spots as the rain picked up.

Alright, you'll be home in a few minutes. No big deal.

...Until it became a big deal.

In a matter of minutes, the sidewalk was completely dark with rainwater, and small puddles deepened as your sneakers splashed across them. You had asked the man behind the register to pack your lunch in a paper bag, which was now soaked to the point of nearly falling apart. You hugged the soggy material to your chest, not caring about getting your already-soaked graphic tee any more wet.

"Aye, Y/N!" A familiar voice cuts through the downpour. You realize you were about to pass by Miles' house.

"Miles!" You smile up at the 3rd-story window, squinting through the rain now pouring down your face. "I gotta get home, now, but I'll call you la-"

The boy's brown face disappears from the window frame, and you sigh as the door to the apartment bursts open.

"If my mom found out I let you walk around in the rain like that, she'd kill me, so for my own safety, you gotta come inside." Miles grinned at you, his lanky figure filling the doorway. Shivering, you weren't about to refuse.

-

The following Monday at Visions, you flung open your locker in a rush to grab your Spanish notebook. Instead you were greeted with a flash of bright yellow. It was a raincoat, haphazardly stuffed into your locker when you weren't looking.

Struggling to pull the thing out, you assume at first that it must belong to Miles. He frequently left some of his things in your locker whenever he had to suddenly take off because of "an emergency". His mom must've bought it, Miles wouldn't be caught dead in anything that looked like this.

Once you finally manage to yank the coat out, a blue sticky note flies out with it. You pick it up before it can flutter to the ground, and it reads in Miles' neat handwriting:

"For you :)"

-

"Fuck!" You yelled as you fell. Again.

"Don't say a word, Morales."

A loose shoelace had caught beneath your feet and tripped you, right after Miles had warned you that your shoelaces were untied. Just before you hit the ground, his arms wrap around you from behind and he lifts you to your feet. Laughing, you turn to him.

He wears a shit-eating grin on his face as he jogs past you.

"You would literally not survive without me!"

-

Uhhh I hope this came off as "protective" enough 😭 thank you for requesting!!

[u3pxx]

you two can't just "ah... eto bleh" your way out of this one!

finally got to draw for ineffablerevau october! wanted to make something for the first day's prompt, "meet the cast", so i can finally introduce eve young here too! :^D and hey, better [looks at smudged writing on hand] 14 days late for the prompt instead of never, yea? extra stuff under read more!

really most of my ideas for anything are just "wouldn't it be silly if" or sometimes the occasional "wouldn't it be fucked up if" but that's bc i like tragedy and hurt </3 so i've had the idea of wouldn't it be neat if eve was trans in this au, just for fun DFGHDJ

she fractured her rib during football practice and then realized in the nurse's office "i think im a girl" ASKSKS (it was a long time coming but the rib thing was a catalyst pftt /j) (also get it, the rib thing, because she's EV

edit: forgot to mention her colors are an inverse of adam's colors!

once again and always, thank you to the gomens support group in the minibang server bc y'all always have such fun ideas and i love talking to yall <33 thank u for handling my insane and acoustic ramblings about my au very nicelys <33 ASKSKS

i also was thinking of giving crowley short hair for this one except I'm so used to him with the longer hair DFGHFJ, but then i remembered i made his hair timeline reversed in this so instead he has short hair 11 years before that he just grew longer pftt

[mediumgayitalian]

previous

———

“Hm,” Piper says, fingers steepled. She looks very intently at the air in front of her. “Hm.”

Nico scowls impatiently. “Feel free to be helpful at any given time. Now, even, if you’re so inclined.”

“Have you considered that the reason you’re so infatuated with Will is because you may be blessed by Apollo?”

“I’m infatuated with Will because he is the physical manifestation of everything I value in a person,” Nico says automatically. Then he frowns, processing the rest of Piper’s sentence. “Wait, what?”

Nico understands his error as the grin on her face stretches into something truly grotesque. “I was going to make a joke about your drama levels, but thank you for that. I’m really looking forward to telling several dozen people and delighting in the knowledge that you’re going to curl up into a bundle of humiliation under your bunk tonight as you think about it.”

Instead of answering, Nico decides to walk away. Since there is so much blood concentrated in his skull, resting mostly around his face region, he takes two steps and begins to pass out, but luckily Piper has followed him and impedes a head injury by gripping his arm and merrily forcing him forward.

“So,” she says, steering them towards the amphitheatre, “what’s Plan B?”

“Bold of you to assume there was a Plan A.”

“You like Sunny Boy way too much to walk in there blind.”

“…Touché.”

She’s smug enough to be silent, slinging an arm over Nico’s shoulders as they walk. The closer they get, the harder Nico is forced to grapple with just how godsdamn much he’s softened. I want you to be happy, Father had said. Camp will be good for you, Chiron had agreed. You’re a little twit and need socializing, Mr. D had snipped.

Nico needs a better father figure. He wonders if Paul Blofis’ offer is still open.

The amphitheater is not, of course, empty when they arrive, because Nico knows the Fates personally and each of them despises him. The actual training part is empty — unsurprising — but the stands are moderately filled, with people gossiping, braiding hair, and if Nico is not mistaken, a small, pop-up nail painting salon. Mitchel lifts a purple-smeared hand in an absentminded wave as they step onto the packed dirt.

Nico ducks under Piper’s arm, turning to face her. “I need to fight you,” he informs her. “For my own personal pride.”

She nods thoughtfully. “It does indeed need restoring.” He curved, icy blade gleams in the early afternoon sun, mirroring her dangerous smile. “Square up.”

Since honour is for nerds, Nico doesn’t bother waiting. He simply attacks, lunging for the left side Piper always leaves open. Unfortunately for him, her recent meddling in his love life means her mother has blessed her with a little sprinkling of extra verve, and she dodges easily and cheerfully.

He sends a glum mental prayer down to his father.

Anytime you’re feeling generous, Pop, he grumbles, I would love a boost.

There’s an actual rumble to the ground, as his father laughs at him.

“Real kind,” he says out loud. “Dick.”

“I wonder if you would have more success in the wooing department if you had conversations outside of your own head,” Piper says sweetly. She spins her sword in a neat little circle by his face. “All bay brooding makes you look so…broody.”

Nico scoffs at her. “Will seems to like my broodiness. For some reason. So there.”

“And yet…” She trails off, shooting him a teasing look. Nico is unfortunately very easy to tease (thanks, Bianca) (and for that measure thanks, Hazel) (Reyna too, probably) (and honestly Annabeth) (gods, and Percy) (don’t even get him started on Leo) (really, it would be more prudent to name the people who do not take sick pleasure in driving him up the wall) and as such succumbs easily to her tormenting, taking a hard hit to the side when he’s too keyed up to avoid her spinning slash.

“Note to self, don’t let the monsters know about big embarrassing crushes,” she muses. “They make Nico sloppy and will get him killed in battle.”

She mimes writing something down. This, thankfully, leaves her distracted enough that Nico gets his sword levered against hers, twisting until she’s disarmed. She lifts both hands up in surrender when he points a sword at her throat, but remains entirely unaffected by his glare.

“Pride re-instated?” she asks.

Nico huffs. “No.”

…Yes.

“You’re such a grouch,” she says fondly. She tries to ruffle his hair and is forcibly stopped by his jab to her ribs. Unfortunately, Piper McLean takes no shit sitting down, and in a minute they’re on the floor, getting caked in dust, trying to see who can leave the most bruises on the other. Nico would wager that they’re just about tied.

“You have a list,” Piper grunts, muffled as she bites his bicep. He shouts, wrenching his arm away — she is pointy. “I have no idea what you’re all mopey about.”

He digs his knee into the small of her back. “I gave him flowers! He made a poultice out of them!”

“Technically, you made the poultice.”

He elbows her in the stomach. She shrieks and jabs her knuckles right under his eye.

“You’re so annoying!”

“You’re so annoying!”

“Ugh!”

“Ugh!”

Every part of Nico’s body aches. So badly. He’s not sure which one of them won their brawl, if either, but he knows for sure that he is actively turning purple. He feels like the first time his nonna gave him a hammer and a piece of cutlet — he was maybe five years old — and told him to flatten it. (He remembers, now, the look on her face as she wiped pulverized chicken flesh from her eye. Oops.)

“Go to Will and get healed up?”

Nico huffs a laugh, immediately wincing at the strain on his tender ribs.

“Yep. Let’s go.”

The walk is miserable and bruised. And slow, since both of them are limping. Several campers walk by snickering, since apparently Saving The Entire Damn World, For Real And Actually, You Ungrateful Brat, Should I Just Destroy It Again Then earns you no permanent respect.

It’s not too bad, though. Nico would rather chomp on concrete than admit it out loud, but Piper isn’t horrible company, and she hums when she walks. Bianca did the same thing. For once, it’s a pleasant reminder, although he does wonder if Nico will ever be able to look at the women in his life and not think of her.

(In all honesty, probably not. He sees her in the clouds, in the gnarled bark of the trees; feels her in the warmth of the sun; hears her in every snorting laugh. He likes to imagine how much she would love these women, though. If she were alive they would be her friends first. He knows she was happy with the Hunters, however briefly. He thinks he can maybe forgive himself if he thinks of her without weeping.)

“Least it doesn’t look too busy today,” Piper comments. She purses her lips at the Big House, which for once seems quiet. Perhaps Will made good on his threats and finally dosed the Hermes’ table breakfast spread with Benadryl. Nico would be proud. He deserves a day of peace.

“Great. That means we get the full force of Will’s bitching on us alone.”

Piper scoffs. “Please. You like it when he yells at you.”

Nico almost kills her for real. By the time she manages to kick him off of her, still snickering to herself, they both have a new layer of bruises on top of the old ones.

“Gods, di Angelo, you make it so easy —”

“Shut up,” he says hotly. “You are literally the most annoying person in this stupid camp.”

She sticks her tongue out at him. He scowls, kicking a rock to avoid kicking her and setting both of them off again. It rolls over the grass, pinging off the side of one of the many braziers and rolling finally to a stop back at his feet. In its new position, it perfectly catches the brightly shining sun, refracting the light in a dandelion-esque burst.

“Huh,” he murmurs.

Wincing at his stiff joints, he crouches, vaguely registering Piper pausing somewhere to the left of him. He scoops the little thing up, bringing it close to his face to inspect.

It’s roughly cut, so it’s not anyone’s jewel or anything. Some of the pieces are textured with tiny little divots, like a regular stone, but some are straight and flat and catch the light. Some kind of crystal, then. It’s dense, about the size of a walnut, and shaped kind of like a brain. It is a very familiar shade of blue.

“Holt Hades, you are sappy.”

Nico flushes, shoving the rock into his pocket. “Nobody asked you, Piper.”

“I asked me! I am always asking me.” She jogs to keep up with his suddenly speedy strides, gripping onto the elbow of his shirt when he tries to move faster. “Is this Plan B? Little gifts.”

“It’s a rock,” he says shortly.

“Diamonds are rocks.”

“I didn’t get him a diamond.” He pauses. “Should I get him a diamond?”

She shrugs. “I dunno. I’m not the one in love with him.”

“Who said anything about —”

“Nico! Piper! Hey!”

“Notice who he called first,” she whispers, right in his ear. She grins over at Will before he can say anything. Or curse her. “Hey, Will! How are you?”

It is unfair for a person to look good in mint scrubs. They don’t even suit him, not really, but he still looks — well, he’s beautiful. His hair is poofier than usual and sticks out like he stuck his finger in a socket, and his beam is so bright Nico has to genuinely squint to look at him, and how is it, honestly, that his freckles look like dappled sunlight? That’s not normal.

“I’m okay.” He waves them inside, not bother to close the door behind them — it’s nice out, and Nico knows he prefers the breeze and sun. “Bored.”

“Not enough ocular surgery to perform?”

Will’s grin turns wry. “Nope.” He reaches out to brush his thumb across Nico’s eye scar. He freezes, holding his breath, hyperaware of those callused fingers as they approach the ever-warming skin of his face, heart galloping in his chest. As soon as Will makes contact — because of course the touch was to get his vitals, c’mon, Nico, head in the game — he frowns.

“Why are so many of your capillaries burst?”

Piper smiles guiltily, holding up a hand.

“I beat him up.”

“Wha — you did not!” He turns to Will, indignant. “We beat each other up! She’s lying!”

Will sighs. He glares at them both for a full forty seconds, then turns his face up to the heavens, muttering something that sounds suspiciously like I do not deserve to be surrounded by this kind of dumbassery. Send lightning through the sky if I should let them suffer.

Nico waits. No lightning comes forth.

Will sighs. “Cot, let’s go, y’all know the drill.”

Piper mouths y’all as she sits down. Nico mouths eat dirt back at her.

“Now, I could hum sum’n and —”

“Sum’n,” Piper whispers delightedly. Nico ignores her.

“— get y’all fixed up good, but y’all’ve pissed me off good —”

Nico takes the initiative to pillow-smack Piper in the face while Will’s back is turned. Luckily, it muffles her shriek.

“— so I’m not gonna do all that.” He closes the cupboard with his hip, hands full of vials. “Ain’t even gonna waste ambrosia on y’all, honestly. Y’get some bruise ointment and a Tylenol ‘cause I know y’all were up to shenanigans.”

He puts a lot of emphasis on ‘nan’. Nico knows he is trying very hard to be stern, but he is in fact very cute, and Nico is putting a lot of his brainpower towards memorizing the specific wrinkle pattern that Will’s nose gets when he’s annoyed. If he says that Will looks like a bunny he might actually get shot, no matter how much Will allegedly seems to like him, so he manages to choke down the sentiment. But it is indeed there.

“— and take it easy, y’hear? Bruises don’t heal in a day.”

Gods, his eyes are really, really pretty. He’s almost tired of thinking it, but they match the sky exactly, all the time. Poets write about sparkling eyes and pretty faces all the time, but all of them can choke because all of them are liars. Will Solace has the prettiest eyes of anyone who has ever lived. They are indeed the windows to the soul, and his soul is just —

“This is for you,” Nico blurts. Essentially acting on its own, his hand slips in his pocket and draws out the blue stone, holding it out. “Um. I saw it and —” He glances at Piper, panicked, and she kicks him in encouragement. “Thought of you. So.”

Will stares at the stone for a moment. Nico sweats.

“Nico di Angelo,” he chides, hands on his hips. The panicked look he flits in Piper’s direction grows tenfold. He is not at all comforted by the grimace she sends back. “Do you think I’m so corrupt as to accept a bribe?”

“Um.” Nico hesitates. Piper smacks her face onto her hands, groaning. “That’s not what I —”

“Well, you would be correct.” Quick as a bird, Will darts out and snatches the stone, sliding it into one of his many (many) shorts pockets, nodding in approval. “I don’t have any aventurine. I’ve been looking for it. Good bribe.”

He sets down the ointment and Tylenol, gesturing for Nico to hold out his hands. Nico sighs, then complies.

“I mean, he didn’t destroy it, this time,” Piper whispers as he begins to sing, enveloping Nico’s body in a warm, golden glow. “So…progress?”

“Progress,” Nico agrees. He glances over at Will, eyes squeezed shut in focus, and rolls his eyes fondly. “Who knew it would be so hard to convince someone who already likes me to go out with me.”

———

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