#WORK LIFE BALANCE IS STRENUOUS.

[asbestieos]

day 1, fave oc: caesar “salad” shezain

[siyotani]

YOUR NEXT LEVEL UP 💵 . ݁₊ ⊹ ( posted by siyotani )

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a reading based on the guide towards your self improvement and everything you need to know regarding your next level up. content and media posted is for entertainment purposes only.

. . . ⭑ COLUMN ONE for this pile, i’m sensing quite a bit of stagnation and delays in regards to your current state. it’s almost as if you’re in a trance or in autopilot mode. there’s a lot of reluctance to move forward and it could be because you have a chronic fear of failure. you don’t want to work tirelessly day and night just to never be able achieve your goals or for it to never amount to anything. you wanna be somebody and to chase after your highest aspirations because you’re really a dreamer at heart, but somewhere along the way, you’ve grown intimated by the exertion it would take to get there. you put far too much pressure on yourself and because of this, it’s like you wish you could take shortcuts and jump to the finish line. but hon, rome wasn’t built in a day. it took blood, sweat and tears to build that empire and it’ll take the same amount of effort and will power to make your dreams come true. i know it’s not always pleasant to hear, but there is no substitute for hard work.

for your next level up, you will need to stay focused and diligent to achieve your goals. i see you becoming motivated to do better for yourself in the future as well as strengthening your mind and spirit in order to persevere through any obstacles that may come your way as you rise to the top. you will be finishing some sort of strenuous project that you’ve been putting off for quite some time now. for example, you may have been working towards some sort physical fitness goal or perhaps, doing something related to school or your job. no matter what your aim is, know that you will see the fruits of your labor.

you will be somebody and you will make it — you just need to believe it. do not allow yourself to be discouraged by the bitter comments of others and do not allow their words to tear you shreds because once you learn to stick to your guns and prioritize yourself, you will shine brighter than they could have ever imagined. and be generous with yourself, hon. give yourself the space to make mistakes and to learn from them. taste every sweet opportunity God has to offer to you and take your time transforming into the best version of yourself. life isn’t a race and there is no winner. as long as you dedicate yourself to working towards your own happiness, success is guaranteed.

. . . ⭑ COLUMN TWO this pile has a similar feel to the first group, but there’s more of a burnt out undertone to your reading. your energy is very scattered and chaotic from trying to balance too many things on your plate to the point where i feel like you’re being distracted from your own feelings and your true purpose. there is so much more to life than running errands, working and the anxiety that fills your every atom. your existence is meant to be riddled with joy and laughter as you live every moment without a care in the world. what you desperately need right now is to relax. you can’t be there for everyone and for everything.

your next level up requires structure. there’s an emphasis on prioritizing yourself. clean up any clutter whether it be literal or figuratively and take in a deep breath. then, do the things that you enjoy doing. bake a pie, soak in a warm bath, polish your nails and really reconnect with yourself on a physical, mental and spiritual level. self care is the first step towards your new beginning. there needs to be a certain level of serenity and confidence too.

i’m sensing that you may be a real worry wart. you dwell too much on the past and the future. when you’re not beating yourself up about what you could’ve done differently with your life, you torture yourself with negative thoughts and “ what ifs “. it’s like you have a constant headache and you never feel like you’re going to be good enough. but, i’m here to tell you that you are more than worthy. you’re gonna get it together, thrive and receive every blessing that you could ever hope for. all that you need to do is take a little more time out for yourself. personal management is very important and it’s not rocket science to know that some mindfulness can go a long way too. once you apply these things to your routine, it’s like suddenly you will see certain situations through a whole new perspective. the tasks that stressed you out before will be like a piece of cake and everything will seem to just fall into place. always remember to put yourself first, hon. don’t wear yourself out trying to please others either. you are all you got, so take care of your mind, body and spirit — you’ll glow up overnight !

. . . ⭑ COLUMN THREE wow, it seems like lots of change is in store for this pile. i get the sense that this has been a long time coming because you have struggled tremendously with the cards dealt to you throughout the duration of your life. shitty relationships, financial troubles, and general confusion about your direction and purpose may be all of the things that have plagued your mind and spirit relentlessly. i also feel that you may be no stranger to self sabotage — turning to bad habits and behaviors in attempt to soothe yourself. it’s really okay though. your sorrowful pain and heartache have not been all for naught and they have built a true strength from within that will be essential for rebirth.

for your next level up, your resilience will finally pay off. it’s like you’ve been outrunning so many things for so long that you’ve lost sight of the finish line, but what you aren’t aware of is that it’s a mere few feet in front of you. victory is already yours, hon, just a little more vigor and push is required. i know it’s cliche, but don’t give up now. the world is in need of more people like you; people who take their biggest weakness and transforms it into excellency.

not everyone could have handled the bad experiences you have lived through. they would have been crushed by the extreme pressure and the aftermath that comes with it which is why you need to stand up, recognize the pure badass that you are and start spinning your straw into gold. you have what it takes to achieve whatever your heart desires because it’s already yours, so tune out anyone who tells you different. at the end of the day, the people who try to tear you down are hateful and intimidated by the intensity of your power. just continue to make good decisions for yourself and the rest will follow.

[nicromancytarot]

WHAT WILL YOUR FANS THINK OF YOU?

This is a general reading based on a collective of people. Take what resonates and leave what doesn’t. If you don’t feel the pile resonates with you, don’t be scared to try another, if it still doesn’t feel right, that’s ok! Maybe our energies aren’t as connected and my readings are not for you.

I do these strictly for fun and educational purposes. I do not charge for these readings, and I do not fake readings. I would tell you the cards I get for the readings, but I pull like 15-20 cards each reading and that is just slightly a strenuous task to write them all down lmao.

PICK A CARD TAROT READING

I asked my spirit guides what your fans would think of you if/when you become famous, pick a picture to find out what they have to say!

Pile 1 ———> Pile 2 ———> Pile 3

PILE 1

They’ll think you have a very good work ethic, and that you a perfect balance between what you show online and what you hide behind the scenes. They’ll respect you for showing your struggles and helping them stay motivated, you could teach them some valuable lessons, directly or not, it’ll stick with them for years. They may think that you’re a bit impulsive and quick to act on things. You could get into a fair amount of public disputes which stresses them out since they have to be there to defend you. Their may be some times that they see you as someone they want to become, however it seems they believe your life is so far out of their reach. They definitely gossip about you a lot on social media, to their friends or family, heavy energy of telling all third parties about you, whether they wish to hear it or not. They view you as someone who has everything, and they may sometimes think you are a tad ungrateful, that’s only for those of you who won’t share your personal struggles online, they’ll just be a few lines blurred between truths and their interpretations about you. The reason they feel all of this is because they see you working really hard to appease to your audience, and sometimes they may think you stress out about their perception about you, not knowing that they plan on sticking around for as long as you let them.

PILE 2

For a lot of you, you’re in an industry where your personal struggles are seen, whether you right music or books about your trauma, or you talk on a podcast which expresses your truest emotions, some of them pity you; not in a patronising way, rather a way or recognising everything that you were unfortunate enough to live through, and they respect your perseverance for it. They may have noticed that you popped up spontaneously, some of you could even be an industry plant and they’re confused about where you came from lmao. I see that they may gatekeep you for a while, making fun of anyone who didn’t know you before your most viral content/project came out and everyone started to recognise you as a creator or artist, you may need to control this to make sure it doesn’t spiral out of control and get toxic. They see you as someone they look up to and feel mentally, emotionally and spiritually in touch with, someone who understands them on deeper levels that no one else ever has, you’re their home. Your fans feel like you’ve lived many lives and you know the world like the back or your hand; they look up to you for advice and ideas, they trust your judgement more than anything, they do have the tendency to follow you blind. For some of you, they may struggle or flat out refuse to hold you accountable for your actions if you make a mistake, so make sure to remind them that you are human and they should call you out if you slip up. Super defensive over you, they will attack anyone who slanders your name - again, this can be good, however just ensure it doesn’t spiral out of control.

PILE 3

Well my pile 3, they feel a lot. Firstly, a large amount of them are parasocial, very sorry, just got to give that to you. You could be known for your appearance or something along those lines, and they are very, very attracted to you, which leads them to being a tad too parasocial here. I see they would defend you with sticks and stones if you gave them the chance, there is nothing to stop them from sticking up for you against those pesky trolls. They’re also keyboard warriors, so you may wanna ensure your fandom are not blabbing their mouths about other fandoms, just for the sake of keeping everything comfortable and healthy. Some of you, if not most could post vlogs or TikToks that resemble a FaceTime call, and this could make them feel attached to you and as if you are their friend. They respect your work a lot, they may constantly beg for you to release more of what you do, they’re waiting on their hands and knees for your next drop. They are making you a shit ton of money, rewatching all your videos a million times, going to all your concerts, travelling the world to be at your meet and greets. They’re very obsessive, so you may wanna back down a little on how much personal stuff you post. You could also be a streamer, and that’s making them feel more connected as they get to see the uncut 1-5 hours of your life, again feeding their parasocial desire. They have a name for themself that they go by, and a fair amount of them may call you a parental name “mother,” “father,” “parent.”

[milky-aeons]

— FLY AWAY WITH ME

ᯓ★ starring: dazai osamu, kunikida doppo, atsushi nakajima, chuuya nakahara and ranpo edogawa; what their honeymoon would be like.

warnings: marriage, female reader, wife reader, sexual content for dazai, kunikida and chuuya, mentions of death, bondage, swearing, mentions of vomiting, alcohol intake, mdni, w.c 4.2k

𝐎𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐖𝐀 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐃𝐀𝐙𝐀𝐈 . . .

To honeymoon after one's wedding was not as practiced in Japan as it was the western world — however, Dazai, of course, jumped at any opportunity to slack off from work. A week away from the city with his newly married wife sounded right up the agent's alley.

And when Dazai Osamu was given an inch, he always strove to take a mile.

"Kunikida-kun is going to kill you when we get back, Dazai." You scolded your husband sitting at your side. But when you turned to him, attempting to pin him down with a look, you just couldn't help the sides of your lips curling into a smile. "Like — actually kill you, this time."

Dazai rolled his head, humming a musical sound. "To have my life ended under the cold, bony hands of an Idealist. How could you even speak those words, my love?"

"Only you would find a way to convince the President that a week away in Okinawa would be good for two of his agents. Paid all inclusively, too. What did you call it?" You quirked an eyebrow. "Sand resistance and underwater training?"

The briny sea air teased at his loose shirt and wild, unkempt curls, making him look like a divinity — a mythical creature of the ocean. Both of you sat side by side on the coast's cool sands; sipping from a bottle of sake, watching the sunset bleed the sky into twilight. After spending the day full of adventurous activities; wandering nature trails, stopping for a late-afternoon lunch under the canopy of marine trees, only to take each other by the hand and venture through the Churaumi aquarium's glass blue halls — you both had been content to cuddle up and watch the stars, that evening. Listening to the lull of the sea, talking about everything and nothing at all.

Dazai cocked his head in that funny little way he always did. "Is that not what we're doing?"

"Of course," You agreed, and then leaned over to poke the tip of his nose. His surprised little blink almost had your heart melting into a puddle. "And tomorrow, I expect you up bright and early, because we have an extra strenuous day of whale watching to attend."

Dazai leaned in, as if you were both sharing a secret, and touched his warm forehead against yours. It made your pulse flutter; the shade of his eyes, so complex when he was this close. They softened into something a lot more sultry. "Hmm? Whale watching? I was under the impression our schedule was already taken up tomorrow, though."

"Oh?" You smiled, your breath mingling. "Do divulge me, Osamu."

That was when he went for you. Pouncing with the agility of a leopard, a beast, until he had pulled you against his lean body and you were both rolling around in the sand — shrieking and chuckling.

"I am to accompany my beautiful princess bride on a mission that could mean life or death! World dominion or forever peace! The very nature of things hangs in the balance and I have the key to it, right in my very hands!"

"Osamu—you're—!" You chortled. "Stop! You'll get sand in my ears!"

He brought your rolling bodies to a halt with you laying flush against him. There was mirth dancing in his eyes, his face — looking at you like he was a teenager in love for the very first time. He pouted playfully.

"You don't want to hear my master plan to save the world?"

"You just don't want to go whale watching."

"Hmm~" He purred, and you felt those long fingers begin to trail up your thighs — so sensitive, almost completely bare to him underneath the cotton beach skirt you wore. They drew languid, mind-numbing circles that traced a picture of fire from your thighs, the small back, your thighs again. You found yourself arching back instinctively into them.

Dazai craned his neck up then — just so he could trail his lips against the shell of your ear and whisper, "Because I am much more inclined to hear someone else moan for me all day, instead."

The last of his words were accompanied with his palms coming down on your ass, squeezing possessively — the shock of it lurching you forward a little. You gasped, and he revelled in it. You could see it in the way his tawny eyes darkened into a promising mahogany. Whenever Dazai looked at you like that, it eddied any and all coherent thoughts from your mind. Just like the first time you met him, the second, the millionth, you'd never tire from marvelling in your husband's beauty. Both on his gorgeous face and inside his well-protected soul.

You just had to peel back each and every layer he had learned to build up until you coaxed it out. But you would wait — for him, you would wait a lifetime.

Chuckling a heady sound, you leaned down, ghosting your lips over his parted ones. When he shifted up to try and connect your mouths together — you were mean. You pulled just out of his reach, grinning a wicked, vixen-like smile.

"All day?" You challenged. "But—oh—!"

A yelp tore from your throat when Dazai startled you by surging foreword and rolling until you were beneath him; trapped underneath his long, caging arms. His bangs tickled your face when he pitched forward to arrest you in his intense stare. Holding so much weight, so much promise, that it sent a thousand sparks of pleasure racing from the crown of your head right to the tips of your toes.

"Every day, my beautiful wife."

You didn't think either of you could wait until then.

𝐊𝐘𝐎𝐓𝐎 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐊𝐈𝐃𝐀 . . .

After the rather formal affair that was you and Kunikida Doppo's wedding; a honeymoon was far removed from your mind. So you were surprised, when your new husband approached you one morning, two long-distance train tickets held firmly in his grip. The ledgers are already taken care of, he had assured you when protests rose on your tongue, you needn't worry. There is enough staff to cover our absence.

There was something — something fiercely intense in his eyes when he had said those words, too. Of course, your husband Kunikida Doppo was a fierce man by nature; it was one of the many things you had learned to love about him. But then, you had been unable to place the heat in his eyes, the way his body strained towards you — as if holding some monstrous part of himself back.

You had been unable to place it — that was, until now.

His naked body stalked around the foot of the bed — soft, buttery light throwing all of his defined muscles into focus. The curtains of this private suite were decorated with cotton and cashmere, letting as much natural light into the room as possible while still offering you two some privacy. In fact, one of the drapes from your bathroom window were missing — but that was because it had been wound tightly around your wrists, pinning you to the headboard.

"One hundred and forty-five." Kunikida spoke suddenly.

Through your lust addled mind, you tried to parse his words. Your brows came down over confused eyes. "W-What?"

He stopped, snapping his Ideal book closed in one hand. And when he turned towards you — God, your tongue pasted to the roof of your mouth. He was marvellous. He was breath-taking — his blond hair let loose around his shoulders, the length of him standing stiff and erect for you to see.

"One hundred and forty-five," He repeated. The mattress dipped when he leaned one knee against it, then the other. "That is the amount of days which have passed since I had the first indecent thought about you."

He might as well already be touching you — the way those words instructed a shiver to race down your bare skin. Kunikida pitched forward so he was on all fours now — and with savouring slowness, he began to crawl towards you.

"O-Oh?" Was the only coherent thing you could get out. Your eyes darted all over him, you tried to rub your thighs together to garner some type of friction since he was so adamant to tease you. Kunikida's quick-silver eyes noticed the movement, however, and reached a large hand out. He flattened it on the bare skin of your thigh; a silent command for you to be still.

Frustrated, you levelled a heated glare at him, huffing, "This is no way to treat your new wife."

"Believe me," Kunikida's tone was controlled — always controlled, but you delighted in the fact that his lips twitched into a smile. "I have every intention of treating my wife very well, indeed."

Your breasts strained taut when he came to settle himself just over you and leaned up — bracketing your hips with those strong thighs. Ever since he had gotten your clothes off; Kunikida Doppo could not stop himself from just looking at you. An extremely controlling part of him was overcome with the mind-consuming urge to lock you up and keep you all for himself. But he knew he could not do that. So here he would revel, every moment he could, in you flushed and bare beneath him. Begging him with your eyes to touch you, to relieve that ache only he had caused.

Shit, Kunikida Doppo thought when he looked down at you, he'd pay only the finest artist to paint you like this. But then he'd have to rip their damn hand off.

He reached a hand out to trail it against your twitching tummy muscles. The hand which brandished that newly crafted gold band.

"It was exactly 11:48am, Tuesday the 7th," Kunikida murmured in a deep, throaty voice. His eyes glazed over as he trailed his fingers all over you — from your naval to your breastbone to letting them dance across the planes of your face. "When you walked into the main office with a large stack of reports a certain someone has been slackin' on. You bent over — in that tight little skirt you always wear," He inhaled, dragging your bottom lip gently with his thumb. "And I was overcome."

"O-Overcome?" You echoed. If he kept this up, you were very certain your new husband would make your heart burst out of your chest. You burned, you needed him like your air, like the blood roaring in your ears.

Kunikida leaned in close enough until he was all you could see. He dropped his voice, and the words rumbled out of his chest.

"Overcome with the need to bend you against the table and fuck you, right then and there."

A small whimper climbed up your throat. Like a butterfly, caught and pinned against a board, you fluttered restlessly beneath him. Kunikida placed the softest kisses against your skin; but you could feel the tension that tremored underneath his marble skin. He was taking his time. He was adamant to keep you here for as long as possible just to savour you, over and over again.

And you were more than willing to oblige.

"And now," You whispered, hot and needy, against him. "You have me right where you want me, Kunikida."

Your husband groaned and began to roll his hips against you — absolutely unable to help himself when you said those words. Gasping, your eyes rolled to the back of your head, and you were barely lucid enough to hear him growl out the words;

"And you'll always have me at your mercy, darling."

𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐁𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈 . . .

You and Atsushi had decided to get married under the gentle blossoms of springtime, but it had always been your dream to escape on a winter's honeymoon. Of course, when you broached the topic with him a couple of weeks before the ceremony, Atsushi took some time to gradually warm to the idea. He had never been out of the country, after all, and the thought of boarding a metal tube that soared thousands of feet in the air definitely did not appeal to his feline side.

"It's... so it doesn't stop off, somewhere?" He had asked you with those adorable wide eyes. "What if I need to pee?"

His country naivety was all too amusing to you — a warm grin brightened your face, and to stifle the chuckle, you buried into his silver hair, instead.

"There are toilets on the plane. And refreshments, and seats." You replied to him. "Besides, there'd be nowhere for us to stop off. We'd have to cross over the ocean, after all."

"T-The ocean?!"

The Harbin Ice and Snow festival held its open ceremony a few months after you and Atsushi's marriage, but once you got there, you knew it had been well worth the wait. The city was crafted with ice structures and snowy castles, illuminated by floodlights that coloured them all different shades. Both bundled in layers, you and your husband walked side-by-side through them, warming the other's hand. Atsushi bought you a delicious hot chocolate to share, and never missed the chance to kiss the cream off of your face.

"I have no idea how you're not wearing gloves," You said to him one evening as you strolled around the resort. From here, the blanketed mountains stood stark against the night sky, littered with evergreen trees. Each step you took crunched the snow beneath you.

"Ah," Atsushi piqued. He then lifted his hands to show them to you, and when you inspected them closer; you noticed that he had coated them in a thick layer of tiger fur. "Ta-dah!"

The funny sight caught you so off guard that you doubled over giggling. "What a convenient talent. I wish I could do that when I get cold!"

"You know I would if I could," He said, the warm sincerity of it coming to hug around you like your very own blanket. "But there's something that I can do."

"Oh?" You leaned up to regard your new husband — only to realise that he was no longer by your side. Instead, he had taken a few strides ahead, leaning forward onto all fours in that familiar position he took before an ability activation. Whoosh, the snow whipped up to bite your cheeks, the entire landscape was drowned out in the supernatural blue light as he shifted from man to beast.

The bands of light exploded to leave him in their remnants — only bigger, furrier, and so much more deadly. Not an ounce of fear touched your body, however — because even though standing in his place was a monstrous weretiger that prowled towards you; those were still Atsushi's eyes. The tender bump he gave you with his head still belonged to the person who had Atsushi's soul — your Atsushi.

You carded your fingers lovingly through his coat. "Hello, there." You murmured, taking his big head in your hands and scratching behind his ears. "What brings you here, Mr. Weretiger?"

Atsushi's honey-gold eyes held yours for a moment. Then, he made a swishing movement with his head — an indication for you to follow. You knitted your eyebrows, initially confused at what he wanted when he couldn't use human speech — but when he lay down in the snow and made his back easier for you to reach, you suddenly realised.

"Oh, okay." You hummed, manoeuvring to the side of his massive body and hiking your leg up. Shifting, you found a comfortable sitting position on his back. But not before you cuddled into his soft fur a little. "You are so warm, no wonder you don't need gloves."

His great big lungs reverberated when he spoke something you couldn't understand. Atsushi padded the snow — an indication that he was going to move, letting you know to hold on tight — before straightening up to his full height.

Then, he was running.

Galloping through the snow scape like you weighed absolutely nothing at all — the wind ripping through your hair, smattering your cheeks in little flecks of snowflakes. You gripped on tight to his coat, feeling the wild rush of adrenaline spike in your blood. His great big paws ate up the distance with agility, with grace. As easy and breathing for him in this form. You held on tight to your husband's body when he hopped from rock to rock, from tree to tree, taking you through your very own winter wonderland on a night you'd never forget.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐔𝐘𝐀 . . .

After the unholy shitshow — as your husband eloquently puts it — that was your wedding reception, it was safe to assume that Chuuya Nakahara was adamant to get out of the country in order to spend a few days alone with you. Somewhere extremely far away. And what better place was there, than the classy city of romance and wine?

He had been cunning in the preparations, refusing to reveal anything until it was the evening you scheduled to fly out on one of the Port Mafia's private air jets. Sure; the plane had been in regular use to smuggle large shipments of drugs across the Japanese border, but Chuuya had gone to touching lengths in order to make it special for you.

The inside was completely cleaned out and lavished with first-class opulence. When you stood in the hanger, suitcase in tow, you couldn't believe how beautiful he had made it look. And when he handed you a flute of fizzing champagne before boarding, he pulled you in by the waist; kissed you on the cheek, and said, are ya ready to see the real Eiffel Tower, sweetheart?

The sheer beauty of Paris was all you needed to make up for the long-haul flight over. Each building towered above you; beige stonework, panelled windows, the smell of fresh baked goods and coffee in the air. Chuuya walked with his hand on your back through the winding cobblestone walkways. He did not complain once when you spent hours busying around the shopping district La Vallée, gushing at all the quaint boutiques and bakeries. He bought as many pastries as your heart so desired. And on your last night, he told you to wear your finest dress, and took you on a boat ride around the city.

"This mustn't have been good for your bank account," You pouted, leaning over the side of the boat to admire the glossy river water. "Even for you."

Chuuya popped a piece of steak into his mouth. One eyebrow quirked. "I thought I told ya never to worry about money when you're with me, doll. Even more so now that you're my wife."

My wife, you closed your eyes, savouring the sound of it wearing his voice like the meal in front of you. It still sounded so foreign — a little out of place, when you had just gotten used to being to as the General's fiancée. When you opened your eyes, you allowed yourself a few seconds to marvel at the man who worked to make all your desires come true — and not because he had to, but because he wanted to, he loved to.

Chuuya's blue eyes twinkled underneath the fairy lights that hung from the boat's canopy. "What?"

You beckoned to all the other empty seats around you. "How did you manage to rent an entire boat for just the two of us, though?"

At that, your husband's lips lifted into a wide, vulpine smile. The type that made delicious heat lick down your spine.

"Do ya object to being on this big boat all alone with me, sweetheart?"

The heat cascading down your spine spread its fingers — until it was all over you, reaching the tips of your cheeks, the skin of your chest left exposed by the open dress. You swallowed, not breaking the eye contact, and placed your fork down with very precise movements.

You purposefully flicked your hair behind your shoulder — exposing your collarbone, the long column of your neck.

"Quite the contrary, my beautiful husband. In fact, I think the rocking could make riding you senseless feel extra good, if that was even possible."

There was a heartbeat where Chuuya didn't move. And then, the table was knocked to one side, there was a harsh clatter of metal and plates and his chair scraping against the deck when he surged for you.

You shrieked in delight when you felt his hands on your hips — hoisting you swiftly from the terrace chair and into his arms. Guiding your legs to wrap around his waist, you were held securely against him, looping your arms around his neck as he made quick work of the ships decking and down the stairs into your private bedroom.

When you both resurfaced onto the deck for some fresh air, you were blissfully unaware that the sun had risen and it had already become morning — but the crewmates definitely were.

𝐓𝐎𝐊𝐘𝐎 (𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐍𝐄𝐘𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐃) 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐏𝐎 . . .

When your newly-wed husband Ranpo Edogawa pitched the idea of a honeymoon in Tokyo; initially, you were quite sceptical. Tokyo was a city packed with people and, God forbid; a very advanced transport system. Whatever could your particular partner want in the bustling capital of your country?

Roller-coaster rides and donuts and mickey mouse ears, apparently.

He was such a child at heart, you thought fondly as you watched him flutter around the food stalls at Tokyo's Disneyland Resort, pointing at all the colourful sweets he wanted to try. You suppose Ranpo never really had the opportunity to have a childhood; being hunted for his mind and hopping from job to job just to survive before he met the President. And you cherished that part of him. Your heart grew twice its size when he returned to you, a chest-full of of packaged goods and two sticks of candyfloss.

"According to my Deductions," Your husband boasted, thrusting the candy floss out to you. "Poo's Honey Hunt is the next attraction which will have the least amount of waiting time."

You took your candyfloss carefully from him. "Of course. Although do you think it's a good idea to go riding when you have a stomach full of sweets, Ranpo?"

He leaned back and guffawed. "Pwah! Nothing is impossible for the World's Greatest Detective!"

It turned out that spinning in a plastic honey pot one too many times was a little too much for the World's Greatest Detective, after all. You rubbed soothing circles against your husband's back and held his cape out of the way as he upheaved into a colourful trashcan the moment he stepped off of the ride. You hushed anything he tried to say, instead guiding him to sit with you by the riverside — watching the fairy tale boats float on by until the nausea subsided.

A bottle of water and a handful of pastries later; Ranpo Edogawa was right back on his feet again, dragging you by the hand to the next attraction with excited, skipping steps.

And when the sun dipped low behind the bright pink castle that was a landmark to the grounds and the sky darkened into twilight, your forever partner guided you across a beautiful bridge closed off to the public for the rest of the evening. Of course, you scolded him with each step, telling him that this would get you both in a world of trouble. Only for him to turn around and wink, assuring, the stewards only patrol this area of the park every quarter of an hour. We have at least twenty minutes until anybody will be near this area again.

"Ranpo, darling, I love you," You said to him, stepping over the foliage and onto the bridge painted with bright gold — mimicking those found in story books. "But if we get fined for this, I am taking away all of your sweet stash for at least a month."

He twirled around to face you when you came to a stop in the centre of the bridge; his hands folded behind his back. His tongue stuck out. "Boo. You wouldn't be able to figure out the code."

"You doubt the mind of a wife who is angry." You cooed, but were completely unable to help the smile that tickled your lips. You were like two schoolkids; sneaking around in a no-trespass area trying not to get caught. Although you didn't understand the entire reason as to why you were stalking around a closed area of the park late at night.

You decided to question him, tilting your head. "Remind me, why is it that we're slinking around Tinkerbell's Garden and running the risk of getting caught, again?"

Your question was left hanging when Ranpo decided to keep his lips shut. Instead, he lifted three fingers up in the air. You watched with knitted brows as he brought down one — leaving two left. Then, brought down the other. And just as he let the final finger close into his fist, there was a shrill whistle, a tail of sparks flying through the night—

BOOM!

The most brilliant firework exploded in the sky.

You gasped, turning to look above the canopy that hid you both. Boom, there was another — a brilliant explosion of red and yellow. Boom, boom, two at the same time. You were arrested in place, marvelling at the light show that sent a thousand sparkles reflecting in your eyes.

Warmth. Skin. Ranpo's hand coming to intertwine with yours. His soft lips ghosting your temple, whispering the words so sweet;

"They're almost just as beautiful as you, my wonderful wife."

ღ . . . the bsd men ON THEIR WEDDING DAY

requested by wonderful [ nonnie! ]

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA for breaking up with my boyfriend because he likes my body?

TW for ED but please hear me out:

My bf (30m) and I (28f) have been together for a little over 5 years. When we got together I had an extremely stressful and physically demanding job. Shortly after our relationship started I relapsed with an eating disorder that had been a problem since prepubescence; I started restricting heavily at age 11 and had struggled with it on/off since then.

After quitting that terrible job and regaining some agency in my life, I spent a couple of years really focused on recovery. Without giving specific numbers (cause triggering) I'll say that I was extremely underweight to an unhealthy level for at least a year and experienced severe health complications because of it. I nearly died from heart problems and had a big wakeup call that caused me to change my whole life. I've done the work of recovery without medical help (history of omission with doctors) but have had support from my bf, and am currently at the highest weight of my life.

at a recent checkup my Dr talked a lot about "healthy lifestyle" and mentioned my weight gain over the past couple of years. I'm still within the "normal" range for my height and build, but the after visit summary/chart notes denoted risk of becoming overweight. Idk if my Dr would have brought it up if my history of ED was in my chart, (and I did switch primary care practices a few years ago, so they weren't treating me at my thinnest) but it still shook me a bit and I will admit to feeling very triggered.

The job I moved to is quite sedentary compared to the previous terrible one - I wfh, and very rarely have to be on my feet or do strenuous activity. In addition, I have chronic pain issues that make exercise difficult, and so historically have just restricted to maintain/lose weight because it's easier for me physically to just be hungry than to work out. I didn't want to go down that road again though because of how intense and scary it got last time.

My bf is a personal trainer and specializes in working with low ability clients and people recovering from long illness/injury. When I told him that I wanted to start exercising more often and get a good cardio routine going, he was really excited and started immediately putting together an "action plan" (what he calls it w his clients idk) for me. Then he mentioned how I'd need to add on a bunch of meal supplements and snacks to avoid losing weight and I got upset.

We're a plant-based (vegan) household and live with a roommate (bf's friend) so mostly eat/cook communal dinners and have various breakfast & lunch plans on hand, so we already eat pretty healthy and make sure to have a good balance of macro/micro in the meal plan. My intent was to eat the same but increase my activity level to get out of the danger zone without restricting. I don't generally snack and rarely eat dessert, just the 3 squares.

I told my bf that I needed to lose weight and be more active according to my doctor, and that I wasn't comfortable with having protein supplements, smoothies, and snacks in addition to regular meals because that would defeat the purpose. He got really sad and said that he likes the way my body is now, and while he supports being more active, he doesn't want the size of me to change. His exact words at some point were "you look so good now, I love the amount of you that there is and I like the way you jiggle." It kind of made me feel sick and wonder if he has like a secret size fetish or something?

So I've been thinking of breaking things off with him and moving in with a friend or back in with my parents, but idk if this is actually a red flag or just the disorder talking? He did help me a lot with recovery but if he's going to keep me from being healthy or wants me to gain even more weight then maybe it's better to leave - would this be an asshole move? I honestly don't know.

[joshym]

Muse

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!Reader

Summary: Your struggling artist is desperate for some inspiration.

Word Count: 3.4k+

Warnings: smut (18+ ONLY), unprotected p in v, oral (f! receiving), a smidge of sir kink, some spanking, a lot of fluff because i can't help myself, Jake draws a naked portrait of you (let me know if i've missed anything)

a/n: special thanks to this lovely anon for this brilliant idea. this was way too much fun to write.

this was inspired heavily by that scene from the Titanic. (you know the one.)

as always, thank you to my favorite editor/motivator, @jakeyt.

i hope you enjoy. ♡

“I want you to draw me wearing this.” You reach into the lapel of the robe, retrieving his coin that now hangs from your neck. “Only this.”

.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.

His frustration is palpable, evident in the nearly incessant huffing emanating from behind the closed door of his studio.

It's moments like these that leave you feeling utterly helpless. There’s nothing you can do, no inspiration you can provide that will pull him from his artist’s block.  

He's been holed up in there for hours, since the early dawn, lost in the depths of his imagination, sketching away. You know better than to intrude; he's never been keen on sharing his work until it's finished.

In fact, he's never once allowed you a glimpse into his creative process. "It's the strange doodlings of a mind overrun with ideas. It's not to be seen until it's in its final form," he's reminded you countless times when your curiosity gets the better of you.

Still yet, you're consumed by the desire to witness his beautiful mind in action, crafting masterpieces in real-time, each stroke flowing from his soul through his tireless hand on his Somerset velvet sheets.

But, like any artist, he’s his own worst critic. He’s never truly satisfied with anything he creates, though you are left utterly speechless after each piece he finishes. His mind is a beautifully profound chasm of endless wonder, manifested through his artistry.

You hate when he has these moments of doubt, these instances when he questions whether he’s truly capable of such greatness. 

And you especially despise days like today, when he spends the better part of it feeling as though he has a mental brick wall in the way of his ingenuity, hindering his hand from bringing to life what his mind so desperately longs to conceive. 

Commissioned pieces, like his project today, always hold the most weight for him— from the need to earn a living, to his persistent worry that his art might not meet the expectations of the client. 

It’s not that he doesn’t love doing them, or that he’ll ever stop taking them; quite the contrary, they’re his favorite pieces to work on. They provide him with an added pressure that elicits some of his best work. 

But, reaching that point can be rather strenuous for him. It can at times take days, weeks before he discovers the creative impulsion he needs. 

And right now, he’s in that very rut, awaiting the surge of inspiration that will reignite his dulled spirit.

There truly is nothing you can do when he’s lost like this, and any effort you’ve attempted in the past has always proved useless. 

The one thing you can do, however, is prepare him some dinner.

He’s hardly left his studio today, and you know he’s not eaten much, if anything at all. Perhaps a morsel of sustenance will ignite the dormant embers of his mind. 

.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.

After a quiet tap to the door, he invites you in with a serene voice. 

He looks tired, but lovely as ever. The golden hour has officially set in the sky, and the opened curtains on the windows have allowed for a warm hue to encompass his studio, enveloping him in its delicate lume.

“That smells absolutely divine,” he remarks as you enter his studio, his plate and yours delicately balanced in your hands. 

“I figured a little homemade pasta would do you some good,” you tell him while you pad across the floor to his work station.

With a sly disposition and a playful glint in your eye, you aim to steal a glance of his day-long project, but alas, you’ve been caught. Your sweet Jake misses nothing.

"Not yet, my love," he murmurs, flipping the page over as he takes your hand, planting a tender kiss over your knuckles. "You know the rules."

“I know, I know.” Your response holds a bit of remorse. You know better, but can’t begin to help the relentless desire to see his mind at work. 

Setting his dinner on the desk he’s working from, you move yourself across the small office to the green chaise lounge that sits across from him, silently seeking his permission with your gentle glances. The smile in his eyes tells you that he’s more than happy to be graced with your company for the time being. 

After taking a bite of the spinach tortellini you prepared, he unbuttons his white striped shirt, removing it from his shoulders and stretching his arms high above his head as though he’s ridding himself of the weight of his frustrations.

You can’t help your glare, watching him do something so normal yet so intriguing all at once. 

His skin is velvety smooth, his chest rising and falling with every breath he takes, his chestnut wavy locks sitting atop his broad shoulders. You’re in awe each time you look at him; the sheer magnitude of his beauty never fails to steal your breath away.

And his necklace, his most cherished piece of jewelry that he wears each and every day. The precious coin, a relic salvaged from a centuries-old shipwreck that hangs against his chest.

The way it sits on his bare skin is nothing short of elating, sexy. It’s a wonderful addition to his already captivating aura. 

He’s flawless. Everything about him.

Once he catches your gaze, he responds with a sly wink, eliciting a blush that paints your cheeks a bright shade of pink.

Then, a thought begins to swirl around your mind for a brief moment. One that you’re shocked you’ve not conjured until now. 

The vision of the pendant against his bare skin sets your own imagination alight. 

“I’ve got an idea,” you propose, your voice soft and sultry, trying to pique his interest even just a little, something that may help the rusted wheels of his mind turn at full capacity once again.

While his focus remains on his work, his right eyebrow arches ever so slightly, and you catch the hint of a grin daring to curl in the corners of his mouth.

“And what might that be, my dear?” he asks with an unknowing, devilish smirk. 

As you get up, he hastily flips the page back over to hide his work from you once again.

“Don’t worry,” you say as you move behind him, placing your hands on his bare shoulders. “I won’t peek.”

You glide your fingers along his skin, feeling the subtle rise of each goosebump in the wake of your gentle touch.

He hums inquisitively as you delicately take hold of the clasp of his necklace in between your index and thumb, undoing it in one fluid motion before slowly slipping it from around his neck. 

“Be right back,” you say as you head towards the door. “Don’t move.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he responds, a myriad of questions splayed across his features.

With light steps, you make your way down the wooden floors of the hall towards your shared bedroom. Hanging on the back of the door is your sapphire hued satin robe, adorned with a delicate lace detailing along the hem—the one Jake has always fawned over. 

The satin drapes coolly against your skin as you slip it on, wearing nothing underneath, save for the weight of Jake’s necklace resting against your chest that you hide beneath the fabric. 

You run your fingers through your hair, adding a subtle tousled look, before applying a light blush to your lips and cheeks to impart a bit of natural color to your complexion.

And with that, you're poised and ready.

.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.

As you turn the corner to face his studio, you see a very weary version of your Jake. His head sits in the palms of his hands, his leg bounces up and down at a rapid rate—a clear sign of the mental battle he’s waging. 

This is as good a time as any for your little idea, and you’re hoping that it’ll be the very thing he needs to find some much needed initiative to keep going. 

“Hi, baby,” you venture, leaning your body alluringly against the frame of the door. 

As he looks up, a familiar twinkle dances in his eyes—a sight you've longed for all day long. It's a glimmer that tells you he's rather fond of the vision before him.

“And what exactly is your idea?” he inquires softly, slowly standing from his chair. But you stop him, motioning for him to stay just where he is as you saunter towards the chaise you were seated on just moments ago. 

“My idea,” you begin, making a very slow, deliberate attempt to untie the sash holding your robe together at the waist. “...is for you to draw me.” 

As if your thought has affected him physically, his posture immediately straightens, and his once tired eyes hold a renewed sense of life as they watch you intently. 

“I want you to draw me wearing this.” You reach into the lapel of the robe, retrieving his coin that now hangs from your neck. “Only this.” 

Your robe suddenly falls to the floor, revealing your fully nude figure that was hidden beneath. 

“Oh…” he utters, his tongue wetting his lower lip before tucking it between his teeth. “You can’t do this to me, baby. I can’t look at you like this an–”

“Consider it a commission,” you interrupt, tracing your fingers lightly up and down the skin of your torso. “And when you’re finished, if it’s to my liking, you’ll receive a full payment.”

With a raised eyebrow, his gaze sweeps up and down your form, while his index finger lightly grazes his chin.

“You’re quickly becoming my favorite client,” he quips, wiping a stray bead of sweat away from his forehead, tousling the front of his hair in the process. “Consider it done, ma’am,” he continues with a confirming nod of his head. 

You lay yourself down on the forest green velvet cushions, positioning yourself sensually across the chaise. Your body is turned slightly to the side, your leg gracefully crossed over the other, an elegant display of your curved silhouette. 

The warm glow that is so beautifully cast upon Jake, is now cast upon you, the aura laying over your nude body like a golden blanket of light. 

“Is this okay?” you ask him, draping your arm over the back of the chaise, making sure the coin sits meticulously atop your chest before your other arm falls to rest against your body. 

He simply grins while nodding his head, his eyes drinking you in, a mix of surprise and desire evident within his expression.

“Yeah, that um…that’ll do just fine,” he tells you, the slight crack in his voice eliciting a smile from you, a break in his professional facade. 

With a deep breath, he takes his prized Faber Castell 9000, carefully sharpening the tip just a bit before putting it against a blank sheet. 

And then, as the true artist you know him to be, he begins without a hint of hesitancy. The gentle sound of the lead scratching away at the paper fills the quiet room— a sound you’ve come to cherish, a sound that signifies his craft is steadily blossoming to life.

He seems charmingly nervous, his hand gently brushing against his nose every so often between a series of strokes from his pencil, clearing his throat more than usual. His eyes flint to you, then back to the paper, then back to you, a succession of his adoration and determination, ensuring that the likeness captured in his art closely mirrors your essence. 

You try to keep your face composed, a seductive allure about your features. But as you watch him, immersed in his passion, the way he’s studying you so intently, it becomes nearly impossible to suppress the beginnings of a smile upon your lips. 

But despite your efforts, he takes note of the curve adorning your flushed lips, mirroring it with his own. “Relax your face for me, beautiful.” The soft rasp in his tone is enough to send a blush throughout your whole body. 

Breathing in your nose and exhaling through parted lips, you’re able to reclaim your composure enough to steady your expression. 

Every moment you share with him is a brushstroke of beauty, but something about this one stands out. The intimacy of it all, how he must diligently study every inch of your form to convey your image through his art, the intensity behind his focused gaze…your heart is racing in your chest, despite your relaxed demeanor. 

.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.

With the sun almost hidden behind the early moon, he completes the final stroke.

He lays his pencil down, gently blowing on the paper to remove any stray lead before he picks it up, examining it closely while he walks it over to you. 

As he holds it out before you, allowing you to at last see his craft come to life, you’re left entirely awestruck. 

“Oh, Jake.” The sight before you leaves you nearly breathless. It exceeds every expectation, beyond the boundaries of your imagination. It’s a portrayal of you, but not just that— it’s how he sees you.

It’s the first time you’re witnessing yourself through his eyes, and in that, you feel a profound sense of beauty within yourself that you’ve never known. 

“Do you like it?” He asks, a slight tremor present in his voice. 

“It’s…incredible, Jake.” 

Propping yourself up a bit, you carefully take the drawing from his hands, poring over his vast attention to the detail in your face, your body. 

Specifically your breasts, how perfectly he depicted their round curve above your rib cage, encapsulating the fullness and allure of them. 

You’re entranced by the way he drew the contour of your hips, how he captured the dip in them that you’ve always looked at with disdain, yet in his portrayal, you’re able to see the beauty in what you’ve considered a flaw.

He encapsulated everything, even the faint freckle beneath the curve of your left breast, and the mole under your belly button. He managed to immortalize all the intricate nuances that you typically overlook.

“Is this what I really look like?”

“Yes, but,” he takes the drawing from you, placing it on the mahogany table beside the chaise lounge. He helps you lay back down, gently caressing your face that he’s just conveyed through his artistry as he props himself above you. “The essence of your beauty defies any depiction.”

Then, his lips envelope yours in a kiss so fervent, so ardent, as though he’s waited hours to finally have you within his grasp. 

His hand moves with a swift grace to your breast, fingers toying with your perked bud. This erotic moment with him has you already so flustered, so sensitive to every touch of his hands. 

He breaks his lips from yours, only to land them down the column of your heaving chest.

“You’ve no idea how hard it was for me to look at you like this, to look at these,” he mumbles against the tingling skin, hands kneading the flesh of your breasts. “And fight the urge to come place my lips on every inch of this beautiful fucking body.”

And just as he said, he bestows tender yet hungry kisses down the length of your torso, maneuvering his body down the chaise lounge until he kneels before you. He nestles his face perfectly between your thighs, his warm breath tantalizing your wet center from his dangerously close proximity. 

“I certainly hope you don’t let all of your clients pay you like this,” you mutter, breathless and yearning for his mouth. 

“Only the ones that tickle my fancy,” he says, his words adorned with a playful wink before he delves into you. 

He laps away at your pulsing cunt, like he’s been starved for your taste this entire evening. The lewd, lascivious sounds he’s emitting from between your legs only serve to heighten your need for him, causing your back to instinctively arch away from the plush cushions. 

And when his lips envelop your throbbing clit, his tongue swirling around it inside his warm mouth, your body trembles and shudders. A rush of warmth encompasses you, starting from the depths of your core, the pit of your stomach, spreading to every inch of your being. 

You surrender to the intoxicating bliss, your breath catching in your throat while your heart pounds in a crescendoing rhythm.  

He guides you through it, gently holding your hips in place while the movement of his tongue slows in perfect time as with the ebb of your climax.

“Oh, that was so beautiful, my love.” He lovingly kisses the inside of your thigh before he stands, removing the belt from his patchwork jeans. “Turn over for me, baby.”

“Yes, sir,” you quietly utter as you obey his demand, knowing good and damn well what that specific name does to him. 

Just as he commanded, you turn your body over to your stomach, placing your elbows against the arm of the chaise, your back arched as much as you can so that your ass is sticking up just right for him.

“Love when my sweet girl calls me that,” he purrs before his belt hits the floor, his jeans and underwear quickly in tow and freeing his impossibly hard cock. 

“So, what’s the verdict, my love?” You feel the cushion sink in behind you as he settles himself between your legs, his right hand caressing your hip while the other teases your soaked cunt with the tip of his cock, leaking with precum. “Was my work to your liking?”

You giggle breathlessly, poking your ass out even further as an offering to him for his hard work. “Yes, I believe you’ve earned your reward.” 

He steadily begins nudging his cock into you, going slow at first, allowing you to fully adjust to him. 

Inch by thick inch, he fills you completely to the hilt, your breath catching in heavy gasps that are robbed from your lungs as he buries himself deeply within you. 

Your nails claw at the velvet armrest as his thrusts quicken in their pace, your upper body nearly going limp as you’re no longer able to easily hold yourself up.  

His hands hold a firm grip at your lower waist, pulling you into his cock rhythmically, yet becoming more and more disordered as he’s beginning to lose himself to the pleasure. 

You cry out a slew of obscenities mixed with his name, begging him to fuck you harder, faster.

Without question he complies, landing an open palm against your ass cheek. “So good for me baby,” he hums, his thighs slapping against the backs of yours as he drives into you just the way you need. “So fucking good for me.” 

With one more vigorous thrust of his hips, you feel that familiar rush throughout your whole body as your cunt throbs and pulses incessantly around his cock.

“Fuck, I feel you, baby. Pretty little cunt squeezing me so tight.” You feel the twitching of his cock inside of you, an indication that he's on the very brink of his own release. 

“Cum inside me, sir. Please…need you to fill me.” Your voice is faltered, your body still reeling from your second climax. 

“Jesus,” he groans, moaning exasperatedly as your words have him spilling within you, filling you with his warmth just as you requested. 

He stays buried inside of you as he catches his breath, feeling his release slowly trickling down your thighs as you struggle to fill your own lungs. 

You have to fight the urge to protest when he begins pulling himself away from you, not yet ready for the empty feeling he leaves you with. 

You practically collapse against the cushion, your body exhausted in the most enthralling way, the kind of exhaustion that only immense amounts of pleasure can bring forth. 

“My sweet, beautiful girl,” he whispers, kneeling himself before you as he softly caresses your flushed cheek. 

You kiss the pad of his thumb as it crosses over your mouth, summoning the strength to lift yourself up enough to steal one from his lips. “I hope it worked,” you say, gently cupping his face in your hand. 

“You hope what worked, my love?” He asks, leaning into your soft touch. 

“I was hoping this would help inspire you.” You reach for the drawing, savoring its beauty once more. “I was hoping I could help inspire you, pull you out of your moment of doubt.” 

“My love,” he murmurs, setting the portrait back down before he gently brushes his lips against yours. “You inspire me endlessly, every single day.” 

His tender smile warms your very soul as he leans in for a deeper kiss, imbued with all the love you could ever want for.

“You’re my perfect muse,” he utters against your lips, “I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of you.” 

.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.⚘🀢⚘.

a/n: suffice to say, this inspired the hell out of me when i've lacked inspiration/motivation lately. thank you, anon.

if you have any juicy ideas, feel free to send them my way. ♡

love you guys.

taglist: (let me know if you'd like to be added/removed!)

@jakeyt @objectsinspvce @stayinginthesun @sinarainbows @stardustcordzz @klarxtr @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @highway-tuna @way-to-go-lad @reesetrippingthelight @jakesgrapejuice @sacredjake @notthedroidz @kiszkashousee @psychedelicstardust-gvf @jjwasneverhere @gvf-ficreads @stardust-jake @gretavanbear @gvfmelborne @sirjaketkiszkasharmonica @jaaakeeey @neptune2324 @jaketlove @myleftsock @joshskittytickler @audgeppp @jordie-gvf @gretavansara @gretasfallingsky @jazzyfigz @louiseecraigg @hippievanfleet @blacksoul-27 @sarafrusciante2 @heckingfrick @citylight-delight @electricgoldtendercare @musicspeaks @hollyco @gvfpal @dannys-dream @josh-iamyour-mama @edgingthedarkness @earthgrlsreasy @hernameis-heaven @mackalah @gvfmarge

Masterlist

[sunflowersbones]

High Fidelity

Warnings: This fic will contain DUB-CON/NON-CON, Manipulative behavior, Spanking, Somnophilia. My warnings are not exhaustive, proceed at your own risk.

[STEVE ROGERS x reader]

Summary: The captain has unwritten rules laid out, ones you blindly follow. No questions asked, only orders followed. You’re like a loyal dog at his feet, ready to obey his every whim and command; only that you don’t realize how close your collar is to strangulation, and you're terrified that you won’t learn your lesson even when it snaps your neck.

NOTE: I suppose this could be my kinktober fic! Happy Autumn. Reblogs and comments are really appreciated, this is tumblr after all. I hope you enjoy!.

DIVIDERS: @writeyourmindaway * BANNERS: @vase-of-lilies

*

You look out of the window as the sun shines through, lightening up the break room. The slight bitterness of the last remains of your coffee mellow on your tongue as you start preparing it for the others. You make his at the end to ensure that it remains warm until he drinks it. An Americano, with three cubes of sugar. Just the way he likes it; you can only hope that he’s appeased by your attempts, even if it’s not much.

You walk back to the conference room, one hand balancing the coffee and the other carrying a few files Pepper needs. Your life as Pepper’s assistant involves having to clean up everything for her as well as for Tony. Well, more for Tony than Pepper.

As you walk through the corridor, you hear the regular good morning charades. You smile and nod too tired to say anything as your eyes beg you to get some sleep. Tony’s plethora of mishaps as of recently has only increased your work load. This boy leaves around more paperwork than Pepper can handle.

While work can be strenuous at times, you’re extremely grateful for what you have. Who wouldn’t want to work for Stark Internationals and… you got to meet him, talk to him, get to know him, and you wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

“Ahh, there she is; we were wondering where our coffee monkey is.” You hear Tony chime.

“What he means is, good morning, Y/N.” Pepper snorts.

“Morning Pepper, Tony, everybody. Pepper, the files you needed.”

“Oh, thank you!.”

Most of them flock around you to get their hands on the coffee, but Sam and Tony beat them to it, like indecent children. The only ones with a little decency are Pepper, Nat, Bucky, and, of course, Steve.

You walk over to Nat and Bucky after you give Pepper hers. Both utter a small thank you as you give them theirs. You slowly turn around and place Steve’s cup near him on the table. He barely acknowledges you, his eyes concentrated on the file in his hand. You’ve always admired that; his ability to never get distracted from what he deems important—you could only wish to have such discipline.

You bask in his scent for a few seconds and immediately leave. You hope nobody caught you staring; you tend to do that a lot. If they knew, they’d make fun of you for being such a love-sick fool.

You finish entering all of last week's finances when you see him approach you. You avert your eyes immediately; to avoid too much eye contact is something he insists upon. You stare at your computer as you type in a few more numbers.

He clears his throat as he stands in front of you, a file in his hand.

“Hello captain.”

“Pepper wanted to return this to you.” He says as he extends the file to you.

“Oh yes, I’ll need this for...,” you stop as you realise he’s barely listening. You see him look around to make sure no one is nearby as he turns to you.

“You didn’t stop by yesterday.” His tone was laced with disappointment.

“I… I didn’t leave office until late, and I had to come back early; there was a lot of work left.” You wait for him to say something but soon realise he’s not going to. His face is as clam as ever, yet his eyes seem to be throwing a reproachful look at you.

“You’d just arrived from a mission too; I assumed you might be tired.”

"Yeah, I was; don’t you think that’s when I need you the most?” He whispers.

“I’m sorry, you never said anything, and I—

“Do I have to? After all this time.” You feel your heart clench at his accusation.

“I’m sorry, Steve.”

He stares at you for a few seconds, and you feel yourself shrink at his presence.

“I should leave; you’re not the only one with work here.” Before you could say anything, he’s gone, only the echo of his footsteps left behind.

The whole day passes by uneventfully, and Steve’s words stung. You tried to immerse yourself with work, but your mind seemed inclined to relive your conversation from the morning. You really hadn’t meant to upset him.

At about nine, you receive a text from Steve.

“Stop by tonight.”

Simple and direct your conversations never went past that. You still have some more work left, but you don’t want to upset him any further, so you pack your stuff and decide to head to his room.

You wish that Steve would come over to your place instead; having to sneak around like this can be really difficult at times. If it were your place, there’s nothing to worry about—nobody to catch you. But now... does he not think of these things?, you wonder.

You’re not particularly afraid of the others finding out, considering Pepper and Tony have themselves breached the professionalism code of conduct. Nat and Bruce are on their way to; there’s nothing new about finding love at the workplace, right?

You’re more worried about how he’s going to react when people find out; you really didn’t want to deal with the burn of something you could have avoided.

As you turn around the right corner, your heart jumps out of your body as your eyes meet a pair of questioning blue ones.

“Why haven’t you left yet; isn’t it late?” Bucky enquires; he seems to have changed into his workout attire, his hands warped in bandages. Who works out at this hour? You ponder. He seems to have read your mind through your face as he answers, saving you the trouble.

“Couldn’t sleep; thought I’d punch some of the energy out.”

“So, why are you still here?”

“Uhh work, there were a lot of emails and I lost track of time.” He gives you an understanding nod. His mouth slightly parts to say something but then thinks better of it. You move around to pass through, when he suddenly says, “I’ll walk you out.”

“Oh, it’s ok. I wouldn’t want to ruin your workout.”

“You won’t. I’ll walk you to your car and then head to the gym.”

“Really I — But, before you can finish, he turns back towards the elevator and presses the button. The doors swing open, and he steps inside, leaving you no choice but to follow.

Bucky leans onto the side, pressing himself to the cool glass walls as you stand rigid on the opposite side. You don’t think you’ve ever been alone with him before or this close to him. Now that you notice it, he’s built quite a lot like Steve, although Steve might be a tad bit taller or it could just be the hair.

You quickly avert your eyes as he catches you staring at him. He clears his throat as he says, “You really shouldn’t be working so late, Y/N; it’s not healthy, you know.”

“Overworking will only make things more difficult in the future; Pepper wouldn’t want that for her favourite employee.”

You chuckle at that, “I’m not Pepper's favourite employee.”

“Of course you are; she couldn’t manage a day without you. She’s always praising you.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, plus we like having our morning coffee, and you’re the only one who’s kind enough to get it for us.”

“Oh, it’s nothing, really.” You smile back.

“Still, thank you. We really appreciate it.” He says, a slight smile warming up his face.

The lift arrives at the parking lot, and you get out of it into the well-lit space. The cluster of cars overwhelming you as you look around in search of yours, lost in the myriad of similar-looking vehicles.

“Well… Thank you for acknowledging it, Mr. Barn—

“Bucky.” He cuts you to it, his voice carrying a timber of shyness.

“Bucky.” Your whisper back, happy at the aspect of knowing that after all, maybe the supersoldier doesn’t despise you. You don’t know why you ever worried about that; your communication with each other might have been limited, but he was never anything but kind and respectful.

You say your final good-byes and walk towards your vehicle. You open it and get inside, fumbling with your key, hoping that he would leave soon. You did not want to actually leave the building for the pretence of it.

You turn your key around, the car engine roaring at you. You look over ahead to see Bucky turning around to ride up the elevator again. You decide to stay put for some more time. You don’t want to ride the elevator just yet. What if he hasn’t left?

If you get caught again, you have no excuses left. So you stay put for a good 40 minutes before you make your way up. Bucky’s bound to be in the gym by now.

You slowly sneak towards his room, heels in your hand, to avoid the loud tenor of its click-clacking. You arrive at his front door and repeat the pattern twice. A knock-pause, followed by two rapid knocks. You’re received by silence, and you grow a little uneasy. What if someone shows up? What will you say? Was he really that mad?

You repeat the knock again and pause for a few seconds. The door swings open, and your breath hitch’s at the sight in front of you. He has a towel wrapped around his hip, his hair wet as the droplets still cling on to him. His face and body; glistening. There’s a frown etched between his eyebrows as he stares at you.

“You’re late.”

“I was—before you can finish, his hand extends to latch on to your belt as he pulls you in. He shuts the door close as he presses you against it; you feel your entire face heat up. You’ve seen him naked so many times, yet you can’t help but ogle at him and admire him every time you see him.

Every time he needs you, there’s a bloom in your heart that radiates through your whole body. One that just wants him near you, on you, inside you. And you just want to be there for him whenever, wherever, however he wants you to be.

He gives you a questioning gaze as you mumble. “Bucky kinda noticed that I hadn’t left yet, so I had to play around a little.” His frown still remains as you let out a “Sorry.” His hand moves around you to lock the door, the sound of it synchronising with a beat of your heart. His hand moves to rest on your lower back; it curves around you and pushes you towards him. Your breasts press tightly against his chest as he traps you between him and the door. He presses his mouth on to yours as he kisses you; it's messy, all teeth and tongue. His desperation seeps through you as you feel yourself get wet.

You feel his hard length against your core as he presses his hip to yours. You let out a loud moan, your head leans back onto the door as you attempt to take in shallow breaths. He moves his face ever so slightly to look at you as he moves his hips back and thrusts into you with a force that knocks the wind out of you. You gasp at that as he adorns a devious smirk.

His hand travels down your thigh, he lifts it up and hooks it around his hip, spreading you apart as he nestles in between you.

“Been thinking about this pretty cunt, the whole time I was away.” He whispers into your mouth. One of his hands travels under you skirt as he cups your core, his fingers maneuver around your underwear as he plays around with you.

“Well somebody’s excited.” He sighs out, hot breath fanning your face.

“On the bed, ass up, right now.” He sternly recites. Your body immediately moves on its own, pealing your clothes off of yourself. Anticipation overwhelming you as you lay down, just like he told you to. You can hear him pumping himself with the hand that was covered in your slick just a moment ago.

He climbs onto the bed behind you as his hands move to grope your ass. With a smooth clean thrust he slides himself inside you. He lets out a moan as you feel yourself clench around him. His right hand rear back and as he smacks you, you feel the sting pass through your entire body.

You bite your lips and start counting; you haven’t forgotten, the last time he made sure you won’t. “…3,4,5,6,” you feel hot tears well up you eyes, “…8,9.” His left arm gropes your titts and moves forward to your neck, he squeezes it as he yanks you back.

Your back collides with his chest and he increases his pace, thrusting into you. Your knees are falling apart and the only thing that makes sure you stay upright are his hands. Your own hand maneuvers back to play with his hair, you ruffle your fingers through the short strands and slowly scratch his head. His eyes shut close as his breath falters and his thrusts start to get sloppier. You press yourself even closer to him as you tilt your head sideways. You lean forward and place a light peck on his lips. He opens his eyes as his grip on you tightens at that, you’re sure that it’ll bruise by tomorrow morning.

He moves your upper body around uncomfortably so as his lips find yours. He growls into the kiss as he twists your body, you’re almost afraid that you’ll snap like a twig, but you felt reassurance course through you when you realize its him. You wouldn’t mind if it’s him but you also know that nothing would happen because it’s him; he would never hurt you, he would never hurt anybody. He is Captain America after all.

You feel yourself close and you cling on to him desperately. “Sir… sir, I’m clo—

“Hush, hush let go… just let go, I’ve got you.” You come apart around him as you clench him tighter and he closely follows you.

You fall on to the bed as exhaustion overcomes you. You can hear his soft, shallow breaths behind you as you close your eyes and focus on it. You feel him shift as he gets out of bed and leaves the room; he comes back a minute later carrying a bottle with him. His eyes are on you as you turn around to sit upright.

“Water?” he asks, his hand extended, his gaze never leaving you.

“Yes, please!” You timidly reply, your eyes finding the ground. You greedily drink up; you’d been parched, and you hadn’t even realised it.

He moves around to his bedside table and fiddles with the clock. With your thirst now quenched, you feel the soreness ripple through your body. You’re ready to drop right now; you don’t even want to think about the pile of work you’ll have to deal with in the morning. Some sleep would do you good, yet you know you’re not going to get any, simply by the way he stares at you. He’s waiting to rip that bottle out of your hands.

The minute you give him the bottle back, he’s on you. His entire weight pressed onto your aching body, his thrusts sending you to oblivion as he takes you over and over throughout the night.

You jump up as the alarm rings through your brain, the blaring noise annoying your ear just as its bright red numbers annoy your eyes. You absentmindedly notice that it's 4:00 am. You don’t have to turn around to know that he’s gone; the lack of warmth already suggests that. Not that you ever got a semblance of the next morning; you’re never privy to seeing his beautiful sleep-ridden form in the morning.

He’s always been punctual about his morning runs; they weren’t going to change for your sake. You pick up your clothes—the ones you’d scattered around, the ones he’s picked up and placed on his chair—and get dressed as you brace yourself for the day to come. At least he’s not far away on a mission; at least you don’t have to worry about how he’s doing, where he’s gone, or when he’ll come back, and you most definitely don’t have to worry about Tony’s inquisitive gazes as to why his assistant’s secretary would care about Steve Rogers.

The last time you chalked it up as concern for the team and worry about the authenticity of the Intel, but you won’t get such chances anymore, so you learn to apply patience into your daily regime. At least now you can take comfort in small glances and the echo of his voice; it fills your heart with a kind of warmth that you don’t think you can explain. Yet you know it; you recognise it. It blooms within you every time you see those baby blues.

Tony’s meetings have always brought a frown upon Steve’s brows; that wouldn’t surprise you, however the way he gazes at you does. It never lingers for more than a second, but now... you feel his gaze burn through you. You focus your attention on the second pair of eyes that have been longing for it as you hand over the cup of espresso to him.

“Thanks doll.” Bucky whispers back a nonchalant remark.

Steve’s eyes flick on to Bucky and then back to you. For a split second, his face hardens, but it immediately reverts back. His attention now back on the monitor in front of him.

“Hey, Steve, this is important, you know? It would be great if you were paying attention to what I’m saying instead of laser-eyeing my coffee monkey.” Tony quips.

All eyes are now on you, yet his remains stoned towards Tony. He gives him an unimpressed shrug, “You do have my attention, Tony.”

“Wait a sec, she gets everyone coffee, so why is she your coffee monkey?” Natasha asks, an eyebrow raised in your direction, “Shouldn’t she be our coffee monkey?” she smirks.

“Well, Nat,” Tony replies, “it’s my coffee, and she works for me, so...”

“First and foremost, she’s my assistant; second of all, she’s doing you guys a favor. She doesn’t have to do this. Now please stop hogging her and let her work.” Pepper tones suggest humour and a slight disappointed nod at Tony.

“Yeah, well, you work for me, Pepp, so technically everything’s mine.”

Tony squeaks out as the room breaks into smiles and low hollers. The attention is back on Tony now; you use this opportunity to escape. As you leave, you turn back slightly to look at Steve. Only to be met with his back towards you.

Once again, you leave work late. The workload these past few days has made taking care of yourself impossible. As you walk towards home, you mentally plan on what you should do to relax. Tomorrow is a Sunday, and you really want to spend some time for yourself. You turn around as you head in the direction of your apartment building and are momentarily surprised to find Steve perched up on his motorcycle.

He looks up at you, his eyes locked onto yours. Even a simple gaze from him brings a shiver down your spine. He walks into the building, and you quietly follow behind him. A part of you feels guilty for not lending him a key, but he never asked, and you didn’t want to seem overbearing. He moves towards the corner of the lift as you enter right behind him.

Even though it is quite late into the night, the overflow of people moving about was no less. You move over to the right to create space for the incoming group of people. An unbothered shove from the person in front of you pushes you back. Your body slightly leans towards him, his chest pressed to your back as his hands land on your hip, pulling you closer. You feel him hard against your ass, and you heave a shuttered breath.

While Steve has always been handsy, he never acted out in public. Although no one here recognised him, nor were there any cameras in the lift—unlike the all-seeing eyes of the stark tower—it still doesn’t help calm your nerves.

Your floor arrives shortly, and you weed your way out; however, you don’t see him behind you. You presume he’ll get out on another floor and descend the stairs. You slowly walk towards your apartment and unlock the door. You enter and switch on the lampshade in the hall, the low yellow colour dancing through the entire room.

You hear his heavy footsteps as you place your bag on the table. He enters and closes the door; his figure leans on to it as he lingers there for a few seconds, gazing at you.

Before you know it he moves forward in lightening speed. His hands find your body as he lifts you off of the ground. You wrap your legs around his hips as he hungrily kisses you. His right hand lands on your ass and he gropes a handful as his other hand squeezes the nape of your neck. You revel in the pleasure and slight pain he provides and you lightly bite his lips.

He places your body atop the table as he moves to nip at your neck. His hand rides up your thigh as he slowly drags your panties down. You hike your skirt up in an attempt to help him as your lips desperately try to latch itself on to his again.

He kisses you a few more times in an attempt to placate you before his arm pushes your upper body onto the table. He slightly bends his knees and leans over to lower his head in between your thighs.

His heated breath dances against your slick core, as he swipes his tongue over your folds. He laps from you hungrily as his hands tighten on your thigh; adjusting them.

“Please Steve.” You receive a slight bite on the inside of your thigh at that; a reminder.

“Captain. Sir, Please.” You moan a whimper out.

“Use your words sweetheart, what do you want?”

“I want you.”

“Yeah? What do you want me to do?”

“I want you to make me feel good.”

“Atta girl.” He whispers.

His tongue slightly licks your clit before sucking on it. You let out an embarrassingly loud moan as you move your hands over to run through his short Blond strands, you slowly massage his head and he pushes his face further into you.

You can barely handle it anymore as you let yourself go with a muffled scream and you nearly see stars around you. He moves his hand to the back of your hip as he stands straight and you know you’re not done for the day.

It’s been nearly three weeks, and he hasn’t said a word to you. Your lack of communication wasn’t anything new. But he hasn’t  come to you even once, and you know he’s here and not away on a mission; you’d seen him at the tower chatting away with almost anybody but you.

Sometimes you’d encounter the supersoldier pair in passing, Bucky was the only one who would stop by to greet you; your Blond-haired nightly companion would simply walk past you. You’re unsure if it’s his usual impassiveness or if you did something wrong again.

It could be really difficult when it came to Steve; he had high expectations but was never precise about what he wanted. A part of you loved it when you could figure it out on your own without him having to spell it out for you. But sometimes you couldn’t understand what it is that he wants. It angers and terrifies you; that’s when the dread settles in. You don’t want to admit it or acknowledge it even,though a small part of you is terrified of being discarded away.

By the fourth week, you finally found the courage to talk to him, only to find out that he’s been gone for about three days now. A part of you felt guilty that you hadn’t talked to him earlier, but another part of you knows that it was the better decision to make.

The days flit through in a gloom as you realise how disheartening expectation can be. The only positive side to your loneliness and boredom was the better sleep schedule you managed to incorporate into your routine. The depths of sleep now welcome you without much hesitation. 

You don’t really perceive the feeling of your bed dipping at the weight of another. Not even the feather-like touch of fingers skimming over your body. Sleep lulls you into a pleasant dreamscape; not even at the slight intrusion that your body felt could your mind understand anything.

It wasn’t until you felt his cock plunged into you that you truly registered what was happening. Your mind had just been in the cradle of sleep, and it felt like you had been snatched out of it. Your body felt trapped between the bed and the weight of the body pressed on top of you. The weight of it was the only thing you could focus on until the sting of him stretching you out coursed through your body.

You could hardly breathe; fear surges through you as your heartbeat increases. Your brain felt like it was on fire due to the sudden change your body felt.

The room was veiled in darkness except for the small shine of moonlight. Your eyes hadn’t been able to register to it in the beginning, but now they had become accustomed to it. You couldn’t decide if the sight in front of you put you at ease or if it alarmed you further.

It was the same blue eyes that you’d always longed to gaze at, the same glittery Blond hair that you long to touch, the same sharp nose, and the same clenched jaw. Except there was something in his eyes that terrified you, along with the dirt and blood that covered his face; his lip nearly torn apart. It almost felt like it wasn’t him, and your heart both feared and ached for him.

With a little more clarity now you notice the brushing of the sharp clothes against yours. He was still wearing his tactical suit; this— a first. Now that you think of it, you don’t ever remember him coming to you while wearing it; he’d never been desperate enough. You were a part of his leisure, not a need. Your hand moves to feel the shape and pattern with a sense of wonder.

He leans down to kiss you, the copper taste of his blood stinging your tongue. He bites on to your lip making you yelp; sure that now you’ve started to bleed too.

“Ahh ste— Steve, slow— slow down please.” You beg.

His hand moves to wrap itself around your throat as he slightly tightens his fingers around it. His pace not differing at the slightest. In fact, you're sure he’s slightly increased his pace.

“Talk to me... what’s wrong?” Your right arm moves up to hold his face as your thumb gets imprinted with his sweat and blood.

His gaze that had been on your lips this entire time, now flickers to your eyes as his pace slows a tiny bit.

“Just go to sleep.” The gravel of his voice a slight whisper.

You’re exhausted by him, and his voice lulls you even more; you feel the ceiling slowly blur. Your body moving along with the rhythm of the bed as you slowly fall asleep again.

A surprise party for Pepper's birthday would involve the utmost amount of planning done solely by you and the credit taken away by Tony. But the warm smile lingering on the strawberry Blond's face makes it all worth it.

The humdrum within the Stark tower makes you gleam inwardly; the initial stress and discomfort from the morning washed away. In fact, you had completely forgotten about him. The excitement of the party overtaking you—it felt so nice to see everybody like this. At ease in their own skin, today they were no different from any other office member celebrating a colleague's birthday, albeit a slight difference in luxury.

The long-haired brunet walks over to the quieter side of the party where you reside. You notice him walking over and slice a piece of the cake and extend it to him.

“It’s a real nice party you pulled off in such little time, Y/N.”

“Whatever do you mean?, this is all Tony." You say, a light gist in your voice.

“Oh please, everyone knows this is your work; pretty sure Pepper does too.”

“Tony was away with us on the mission; he wouldn’t be able to pull this off.”

“Well, I think you underestimate him, Bucky.”

“No, they underestimate you,” he sighs, anticipation brewing within. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was nervous.

“Do you like the cake? It’s got a complicated name, but I’m pretty sure it's got plum in it; I know you like it.”

His eyes light up just a tad bit as the corners of his mouth slightly turn up.

He chuckles again, “You’re supposed to get Pepper a cake of her choice, not what I like.”

“Everyone likes plum!. Anyway, I had to buy multiple cakes; sneaking this in was easy.”

“Thank you. It’s really goo— a thud on his back nearly chokes him as Sam comes up from behind, eager to receive his share of the sugary dessert. As you cut the slice for him, their regular jab of bickering continues. Sam says something in an almost teasing tone as Bucky tries to strangle him with his eyes. You like this version of them much more.

You slightly tap your feet as you gaze at the room you’re most familiar with. He hadn’t spoken to you the whole day, but his piercing gaze could not be shaken off of you. You recall the previous night's events; you’re unsure what to make of it. You simply couldn’t leave, at least not without hearing his voice.

“What are you doing here?” His voice startles you out of your thoughts.

“I- wanted to talk to you… about last ni—

“Oh, so now you wanna talk?”

“You seemed content with the company of others the whole day.” The harshness of his tone surprises you.

“What, Steve, what are you-?

“I believe it’s cap for you. Since when did you two get this close?” he says a finger pointed towards you.

“who?”

“Don’t act like a fool, Y/N; I see the way you look at him; act around him.”

“Who!?”

“Bucky.” He barks back.

“Are you trying to fuck him? Bored of me? Is that what this is about?”

The crassness of his words shocked you. You feel a lump form in your throat as your eyes sting.

“No, no...” you can barely form any words as tears start brimming up, your palms brush against your eyes harshly as to try to stop the free fall.

He sighs at that, his voice now a whisper, “Why are you crying?”

“I’m not. I’m— sorry…” you coarsely whisper.

He sighs again and moves over to sit on the bed, a hand extending to latch on to your dress. He pulls you with it, your slight resistance casually ignored. His grip becomes stronger as he pulls you onto his lap, his hand tight around your waist.

He simply gazes at you, and you start crying all over again, “I don’t know—I just don’t know what I did to make you feel that way. I never—you sob words stuck in your throat.

He tilts up your chin with his finger, forcing you to look at him. He leans forward to kiss you. The hand around your waist forcing you to straddle him as the other latches on to your hair. You try to stop, to get a word out but he uses this opportunity to shove his tongue in. The force of him making you relent.

“Steve, I—

The sudden swing of the door startles you just as your presence startles your visitor. He averts his eyes in shock, but his eyes move back to look at you, an ache painted upon them as he looks at your dishevelled hair and messy form.

“Hey, Buck. Need something?” Steve asks, his face slightly turned backwards.

Bucky’s eyes finally reside on the other man in the room, snapping him out of his trance.

“Uh… yeah, no. No, it’s ok.” He rambles as he moves back and closes the door.

You feel a sudden sense of shame course through you, and you move to get off of him. Only to have him shift you as he pins you under him.

“Don’t worry, he won’t tell anyone. It’ll be fine.” He says in between kisses. His hand toying with your dress.

Of course; you’re still his secret, one that he’s unwilling to share. But it’s ok. For him, you’ll do just about anything, as he would for you.

His insatiability and your incredulity, twisting around and consuming you into a single burning fire.

*

[clu-ven]

Hey Clu!! No idea if you are taking requests (so sorry! 😓), but if you are... (or even if you are not then maybe it can be some food for thought lol)...

So you know how you did HCs for TBB accidentally walking in on the reader changing? What if it was the other way around where the reader walked in on TBB boys changing? (Can be suggestive too if you want) 🤭🤭

Anyways, i will just leave this here, hope you are doing well!! 🩷🥰

☆ Ka'ra

thank you so much for the request!! Hope you enjoy, sending some good vibes your way! <3

-> 1.8k words ! kinda suggestive (mention of some clone butt hehe) <-

You just wanted to help out, honest! After a long mission on a dusty planet, you decided to do the Batch a favour and bring their laundry to their respective bunks. It’s an easy errand but you hoped the Batch would appreciate it nonetheless, giving each of them one less chore to do.

With only one more drop off, you didn’t think anything could go wrong… until you forget to knock, entering the room unannounced and being greeted by a half naked trooper.

HUNTER

He senses you just before the door slides open, your scent giving away how close you are. While he’s still shirtless, Hunter makes sure his pants are on properly, using his second long warning to do the fly of his pants. 

These mere few seconds are vital to Hunter and when the door finally opens, allowing you to obliviously step inside before noticing him, Hunter’s already prepared, trying his best to seem calm.

When you enter, all you see is Hunter awkwardly standing there as if awaiting your arrival… and shirtless?!  You’re more taken aback than him, your eyes going wide before you hurriedly cast your gaze down to the floor. 

Trying not to stumble over your words, you explain that you were just bringing in some of his clothes, gesturing to the folded stack in your arms. He gives you a short nod “Oh, yeah… thanks”. 

You’re determined to keep your gaze firmly fixed on the floor throughout this entire interaction… but when Hunter tucks his clothes underneath his arm, you notice it. A light trail of dark brown hair on his lower torso leading down to the waistband of his pants.

Unfortunately for you, Hunter catches your lingering gaze. Clearing his throat, he asks “Are you going to keep staring or…”. Immediately snapping into action, you bring your gaze up to his eyes, missing the playful smirk on his lips. 

“S-sorry Sarge! I’ll.. uh, I’ll leave you be” backtracking out of the room, you leave as quickly as you can, not wanting Hunter to see how red your face is getting.

Now it’s Hunter’s turn to be taken aback. He knows he’s not the best at it but that was his attempt at flirting with you. 

He’ll be honest, he isn’t too sure what he was insinuating other than you staying a bit longer, but he thought it sounded pretty good.

Shrugging, Hunter continues to get dressed, making a mental note to work on his flirting skills before trying his luck with you again.

TECH

Tech is a competent man. Put him in any type of situation and he’ll come up with a plan A, B and C. And even if none of those work, Tech can usually figure out a quick alternative. 

But this, this isn’t something Tech has ever prepared for. Being on the Marauder after another successful mission means his guard is down, and since the mission was quite strenuous, he’s tired. So it’s safe to say his brain isn’t functioning at its highest ability, exhaustion starting to kick in.

When the door starts to slide open, it’s like his life flashes before his eyes. Tech’s first priority is pulling up his pants, something he was in the middle of doing when the door first began to move. 

Tech manages to successfully get them up but not without knocking himself off balance. By the time you step into the room, Tech is on the floor, hands determined to keep his pants up as he groans in annoyance.

You’re not really shocked by this, you’re more confused, wondering why Tech is shirtless and currently faceplanting the floor. 

”You want some help?” you ask, holding the clothes in one hand and offering Tech your other. With a sigh, he accepts, placing his hand on your forearm and vice versa. He tries to avoid eye contact when standing, the sheer embarrassment of falling overtaking the embarrassment of you walking on in him while changing.

Taking a moment to compose himself, Tech speaks “This… this never happened, understood?”. You can tell he’s flustered and so you swiftly play along. “What never happened?” you shoot him a quick wink, handing him his clothes. 

“The last thirty seconds, the fact that when you entered, I was… you’re teasing me, aren’t you?” he runs a hand down his face, internally cursing himself.

You go to put a hand on his shoulder, something you usually do but you stop yourself, not wanting to cross any boundaries. “Don’t worry, I won’t mention this ever again” you give him a reassuring smile before exiting the room. 

Well, Tech is positive that couldn’t have gone any worse.

WRECKER

Strangely enough, Wrecker’s reaction is the complete opposite to how he would react if your roles were reserved. He’s cool, calm and collected. 

At this point in his life, if he got embarrassed every time someone walked in on him changing, Wrecker wouldn’t be able to function.

With his back to the door, he hears the whoosh of it sliding open… but he’s in no rush.

It’s just you, Tech and Echo on board with him, and Wrecker’s very comfortable around all of you so he doesn’t see any need to worry about this.

Looking up from the folded clothes, you're greeted by the sight of Wrecker’s butt doing a little jiggle as he finishes pulling up his pants. Your mouth automatically drops open. 

Out of everything you could have seen, this is the most surprising… which is saying a lot when you’re travelling with Clone Force 99.

Glancing over his shoulder, he gives a loud laugh “Enjoying the show?”. Wrecker’s the definition of playful. He doesn’t mean any harm, taking an otherwise awkward situation and deciding to make light of it. 

As you blurt out an apology (for looking? For walking in? You’re not sure… both?!), Wrecker turns to face you and waves his hand. ”Nah, no need for that,” he dismisses, leaving out another laugh “it’s alright… huh, guess I forgot to lock the door again”. 

He’s still standing there shirtless, a happy smile on his face as he takes his pile of clean clothes from you. 

Afterwards, there’s absolutely no awkwardness, Wrecker’s good sense of humour making this an easy predicament to move on from. While it doesn’t take long for Wrecker to forget about the situation, it’s going to take you a while to get the image of his jiggling butt out of your head.

ECHO

Echo’s in a world of his own, deep in thought. Leaving out a sigh as he yanks up his pants, Echo doesn’t even pay attention to the door’s loud whoosh as it opens.

When you step into the room and see Echo, shirtless and with his back to you, you involuntarily leave out an “Oh!” noise, already cringing at the fact you forgot to knock first.

Your voice catches him off guard but he’s quick to jump into action. As Echo turns to face you, he grabs the closest thing to him, something from one of the other bunks in the hopes of using it to cover his chest.

He knows he doesn’t need to cover up, you’ve seen chests before. In fact, it was only last week you had to patch up the side of Tech’s abdomen because of a pretty rough tumble he had. 

It’s more of an instinctive reaction. Echo knows you didn’t come in here to see him half naked and so he tries his best to cover up any bare skin you don’t usually see. 

But with Echo’s amazing luck, the closest thing he picks up happens to be Lula the tooka doll. 

Realising he’s holding Lula, Echo leaves out a similar “Oh” noise to yours, though his is much gruffer. Slowly meeting your gaze, he gives you an apologetic look.

He knows this is an awkward predicament that neither of you wanted to be in though Echo’s not exactly sure how to get out of it. “Well…” he glances down at Lula, shrugging “this isn’t a situation I expected to be in today”.

Smiling, you nod your head “Me neither, but I did bring you some spare clothes”.

Echo thanks you for the clothes but keeps it to a minimum, knowing you probably want to get out of there as fast as possible. 

If you two are close and have been friends for a long time, Echo might make more of a joke out of it, hoping that’ll ease any embarrassment. Raising his eyebrow, he playfully accuses “Oh you came in here on purpose, didn’t you? Tryna catch a glimpse of me”. He tuts, shaking his head.

All Echo wants to do is move on from this in the hopes the awkwardness doesn’t linger. Even afterwards, Echo tries not to accidentally dwell on this by giving you more apologetic looks throughout the day. Instead, he tries his best to forget it ever happened.

CROSSHAIR

This isn’t a big deal to Crosshair. He knows you’ve been around clones for a while now, both enhanced ones as well as regs. So he’s presuming you’ve seen a lot of skin when it comes to the clones, whether that be due to injury, working out together or other activities.

Although he’s taken aback when you enter, Crosshair doesn’t show it, raising an eyebrow at you in an expectant manner.

You, on the other hand, aren’t so calm. Your surprised expression is hard to hide, your eyes instinctively flicking down his torso before meeting his gaze again.

“Sorry!” You blurt out “I was just bringing in some laundry”. The second you hold out the folded clothes, Crosshair snatches them, indirectly giving you a better look at his sculpted body.

Dropping the pile on his bunk, Crosshair lets out a long sigh, feigning annoyance as he comments “You’re staring”.

If your face wasn’t blushing red beforehand, it definitely is now. Stumbling over your words, you try to apologise (again) but you stop when you realise he’s laughing.

Letting out a low chuckle, Crosshair continues “What is it? See something you like?”. Seeing you blush only makes him want to keep going, spurring him on to see just how flustered he can make you. 

Your brain can’t even compute a response to that, your words failing you. 

Before you can leave, Crosshair stalks towards you, stopping just a mere few inches away from you. For a moment, he simply stands there, resting one of his arms on the doorframe, his figure towering over you.

Bringing his other arm up, he hooks a single finger under your chin before closing your gaping mouth. “Don’t let the door hit you on the way out” he smirks, taking a moment to savour your flustered expression before backing away again.

[partyanimal167]

Talk Me Through It- Miguel x F!Reader

Someone (me) has discovered nsfw audios and has not recovered. I've also been into the nerd!Miguel fics that have been going around, but I won't bully him much in mine lol. I'm trying to get some nsfw practice in before I continue my multi-fic, so

cw: nsfw, mdni, fem reader, college au, author knows some Spanish, acquaintances to lovers, voice kink, praise kink, dirty talk, munch Miguel

Who was this? ...WHO! Ain't no way...he sound like that? Shit...

You barely stopped yourself from dropping your head on the desk as another student finished presenting their speech. You had mixed feelings about your Public Speaking class considering your major, but there were worse subjects to take. You already presented yours and were only staying to review other students' for extra credit.

You tapped your pencil absentmindedly as the next student stood to speak. You sat up a little better in your seat seeing who it was.

Miguel O'Hara grabbed people's attention whether he meant to or not. He took up space with his height, broad shoulders, and overall built physique. People were very shocked to learn that he was not an athlete his freshman year, and it probably haunted the football coach every season. You only knew him from hearsay and the occasional interaction when he was at the library during your work-study. You noticed him. It was impossible not to, so you were a bit intrigued to say the least.

The man stood at the front of the class and stumbled to get his laptop connected to the projector. Before beginning, he took out a pair of thin-framed glasses and cleared his throat.

"The work-life balance is something that many experts agree contributes to one's personal health. Yet there are many careers that demand inconsistent hours and strenuous work in order for progress to be made. How-," the man paused when he glanced from the screen to the array of faces looking back at him. He blanked for a moment, and you weren't sure if it was nerves or stress. After a moment, an awkward fake cough seemed to break his daze. He went on.

The presentation was actually pretty informative in your opinion, and Miguel did get his points across. You were surprised by the nervous emotions and little habits he displayed. He seemed to try to find a face to latch onto for eye-contact, and more than once did it feel like he was looking at you. You weren't quite sure, but it didn't matter really. He looked a tinge embarrassed when he finished and grabbed his things, but you hope it didn't bother him too much. People freeze, stutter, mispronounce things all the time.

After class you went to grab some lunch with your friends before the afternoon classes began. Your school was very diverse, and it excited you when you could hear different languages spoken at different tables. It was the main reason why you were taking a Spanish class as an elective. The world was connected in many ways, and many people around the world could speak two or even three languages. You glanced through your Spanish notes for a moment as you remembered that there was a project being assigned today. You were nervous, but your friends told you you were worrying for no reason.

...

"It's seem we'll be working together." That smooth voice grabbed your attention as people were packing up to go. You turned and looked up to see Miguel leaning on a desk near you. "I promise this project is going to go a lot better than that speech I gave earlier."

Oh so he did notice you. You smiled and shook your head. "Oh don't worry about that. Your speech was fine." you insisted. "Besides, why are you taking this class any way?" you were sure you had seen him giving parent tours for prospective international students.

Miguel chuckled as he shrugged his shoulders. "Easy A." You figured, but you also couldn't blame him. "How do you feel about presenting in Spanish though?"

You tilted your hand a little. "Eh I'm kinda okay with it. I'm much better reading it than speaking, but I can hold a conversation."

Miguel seemed to light up hearing that. "Verdad? De donde eres?" (Really? Where are you from?)

You didn't expect him to switch so soon, but you continued with the conversation. "Aqui, pero estudie espanol para cuatro anos y muchos gentes a la mi trabajo hablar." You knew what you said wasn't perfect, but Miguel nodded his head along as you spoke. (Here, but I studied Spanish for four years, and many people at my job speak)

"Bueno, pero tu sonas muy nerviosa. Por que?" You thought you were in your head, but somehow it felt as if he was expressing himself more in this language. You couldn't help but blush from the change. (Good, but you sound nervous. Why?)

You chuckled. "I am nervous. I like to say things correctly, and it's hard when I know I'm wrong."

Miguel shook his head. "Me gusta como tu sonas." he grinned. "Well, I'll text you my schedule, and we can find a time for us to meet up."

"Sweet! I look forward to working with you." you beamed.

The man softened a little. "Same."

~~~

You slumped in bed scrolling through your phone trying to find something to occupy the night. There were a couple of shows you could watch, comics to read, or just endless scrolling. You were looking through some fandom content when one of your mutuals sent you a message.

N3rdT@amer: Girl! I just found this. You got to check it out!

There was a link attached, and it brought you to someone's post where an video teased an audio release. You weren't sure why they sent you this but decided to give it a go. You popped in your headphones as recommended and took a deep breath.

You could hear what sounded to be background noise of people chatting and jazz music. The sounds of steam and glass clinking set up the scene in a coffee shop. Foot-steps got louder then a voice spoke loud and clear.

"Hi, can I get a cold brew with a little hazelnut. Large please." a pause..."on the house? What did I do to deserve such kindness?" There was a tonal change that followed--a little flustered and shy. "Oh, you see me scrabbling with my schoolwork over there? Hehe, that's very kind of you. I want to give you something in return." A pause.

The smooth and confident attitude returned. "No, I insist. You off soon? Perfect."

The pause seemed to indicate a scene change, and you gasped when your ears were filled with the sound of lips smacking and heavy pants that you could almost feel on your skin.

"Mierda," the panting continued, "keep playing in my hair like that I'm gonna keep you up all night." a hearty chuckle followed by a loud slick sound had your thighs clenching, "would you like that, chiquita? Then how about-,"

The audio cut off there, and you wanted to chuck your phone at the wall. What the fuck? What the fuck was that! You let out an irritated breath before clicking on the profile. You choked on a cough.

You were no newbie to the realms of internet personalities or seeing people's personal interests. You had mutuals who posted fanfics and also sold sex content. There were people at your school who would be seen as uppity that enjoyed streaming RPG walkthroughs. It wasn't that surprising but...

Fucking Miguel O'Hara? Fuck.

It was an account where he teased his audio works as well as promoted others. You couldn't believe it. That gorgeous man could be a model, and he was also using his voice to make some cash? Honestly, good for him, but now you were left with a little problem that wasn't going away as you scrolled to see what other works he had. You bit your nail a little when you saw you could buy an promotional audio for $1. You groaned internally...Fuck it.

~~~

You were burning up and tried to figure out how you got in so deep.

It had been a few weeks since your...discovery, and you were screaming mentally on the inside. You didn't think a voice could get you so hot and bothered, but you found yourself going down that rabbit hole with a few late-night purchases to your totally unaware partner. It was funny in a sense because you remembered how nervous and kinda awkward Miguel sounded in your Public Speaking class. You noticed it a little when you guys met for your project when he had to speak to cashiers or other classmates he didn't really know well.

It was cute, to be honest. You could tell he was a little self-conscious about it, but it was hard for you to believe Miguel didn't know about his effect on people. Even now, he took you out to celebrate the spectacular presentation you two gave at a local coffee shop. He must have stuttered or something since he was scratching the back of his head, but the barista just beamed at him and batted her eyelashes. You couldn't blame her really.

It was just such a night-and-day situation. That man was so confident sounding in his works and in Spanish, but when there was the occasional slip-up he blushed.

Your drink was placed in front of you, and you looked up with a smile. "Gracias."

Miguel smiled softly at you. "Claro," he took a seat in front of you and stretched. "I'm glad we did well."

"Same," you took a sip of your drink, "but it's not like you weren't going to." you added nonchalantly.

Miguel quirked an eyebrow. "Hmm, why you say that?"

"You know your stuff, and you can speak well." you answered easily.

Miguel brought his drink to his lips, and your eyes glanced at it. I think that's the drink he ordered in that teaser. Your eyes shot up at the thought. Stop. Stop! Don't do that. You've been doing good, self. Not when we're in front of him! "Everything okay?"

"Huh!" you perked up and then giggled awkwardly. "Yeah, yeah."

The man continued. "Well, I try my best. I just don't want to look dumb in front of people."

You kissed your teeth with a shake of the head. "You definitely don't look dumb, trust me."

Miguel looked at your curiously. "Then what do people think of me?"

You tried to stop your brain from glitching. There was no way this man didn't know how attractive he was--at least not completely. "Well uh," you grabbed your phone as a diversion, "let me show you this video! There's this girl who went to Puerto Rico and-," you tapped quickly on your phone while disconnecting your headphones, but wasn't really paying attention as you moved frantically.

"Ah coño, you feeling good, mi corazon?" A deep moan followed. "Do you like that? Let me give you some more. "

You froze. He froze. You made a short squeal as you slammed your phone down, wanting to run out immediately. You thought you closed that tab. Why didn't you close that tab? Fuck, he totally heard that!

Miguel was slow to speak. "What was that?" you blinked and made a dismissive sound. Miguel lowered his voice a little bit. "What was that, mami?"

You know your panic was displayed on your face, but you continued to play dumb. "I have no idea what you're talking about...anyway, so here's that vid-,"

Miguel's chuckle cut you off. It was different than his normal one. It was deeper, meaner--the one he used professionally. "Ah, it's not good to lie, bebita." he leaned in closer so only you could hear him. "You like my voice? It turns you on?" he growled lowly.

You refused to look at him. You turned to the side and played with your straw. "Mi-Miguel, we're in public." A mumble. You felt your face warm up significantly; you changed your posture a little and unconsciously rubbed your thighs together.

His low snicker went down your body. "So? I bet you were listening to that earlier. Was it while you were at the library? Supposed to be working, but you wanna hear me call you a good girl and think about how wet my fingers would sound inside you?" You bit your lip then released a shaky breath. "Mirame, chiquita," he watched you turn a little and meet his gaze. He grinned. "Que bueno" he looked you up and down and licked his lips. "Wanna hear something else?" you nodded a little. "Words," (Look at me, little girl./How nice)

"Yes, Miguel."

"Good girl."

~~~

You fidgeted nervously as you sat up straight on Miguel's bed and tried to avoid eye-contact. He was looking down at you completely smug after not saying a word to you on the way over. You were lost in your thoughts, but now, you could only hear the thumping of your heart in your chest.

"Tell me pretty girl," you nearly jumped finally hearing him, "did you get off to my voice?" you opened your mouth to speak, "Mirame."

Slowly, you did, and the sight was wicked. Miguel looked as cocky as you imagined him to. The angle of him looking down at you while you sat made the situation all the more intense and seductive. His eyes devoured you and told you that he was completely in control of the situation--enjoying it.

"I did."

He made a non-committal grunt--glancing around his room in thought. "I want to see."

Your body lit up. "What!"

Miguel chuckled. "Why not? You want me to give you instructions?"

You squeaked. "No! That's not the point...it's just embarrassing."

"Aww, but you did it all those nights at home." he leaned by your ear, "Imagining it was me making all those wet pussy sounds with my mouth. I bet you were hoping I'd find out." he watched as you squirmed from the sheer proximity and how he spoke. His voice dropped lower. "I bet you're wet now." he huffed.

"Miguel," you whined. You were asking for something, but even you weren't sure what exactly.

"What, baby?" he grinned.

You grumbled for a moment before yanking his collar towards you and smacking your lips together. You kissed him to shut him up, but maybe that wasn't a good idea either. Miguel met yours enthusiasm and groaned at the feeling of spark finally igniting. He leaned further in, and you found yourself on your back wrapping your arms around your neck.

He caged you in with his thighs before moving away to tease up and down your neck. He bit and sucked all over--memorizing what and where made you make a certain sound. "Ah there you go. You can make as much noise as you want for me." his words vibrated throughout you. You reached up and rubbed your fingers through his hair and along his scalp. He groaned. "Mmm, someone was listening." he moved up just below your ear and took a teasing nibble from your lobe. ''Which one did you like the most?"

It took you a second to realize what he was talking about, but you didn't want him to pull back. You were already this far; no point in shying about now. "The- the brat tamer one...with the neighbor."

Miguel seemed to approve your answer. "Naughty girl," his hands found your hips and slid a little under your shirt, "you need someone to put you in your place? Good thing I caught you being a slut." you whimpered at the name. "You were just gonna let this be your dirty little secret, huh? Playing with yourself after we did our homework--remembering how we chatted so innocently."

You gripped tightly on his shoulders as his hands ran further up while his teeth bit near your collar. "I should blindfold you right now. You don't need to look at me to finish."

"No! No, please. I want more. I wanna see and touch you, please." you took a leg and wrapped it by his knee--trying to bring him closer.

"Greedy and naughty. Tsk, what should I do with you?" Miguel leaned back before taking the hem of his shirt and lifting it away. Your eyes widened at the display of muscles and beautiful brown skin. You licked your lips. "Was this what you were imagining, chiquita?"

Your hand shyly reached out to touch his abs. "This is so much better." you nearly whispered. Miguel chuckled at your compliment. He backed away slowly; then you yelped as your ankle was pulled moving you to the edge of the bed.

You were bright-eyed as you saw Miguel kneel on the floor easily pulling your pants down. You moaned when he started kissing up one leg after throwing it over his shoulder. He massaged the other and wasn't shy to lick up and down--planting kisses and bites.

You gripped the sheets and started panting and wiggling. "That's alright, hermosa. I wanna hear everything from you. Haré música con este coño." He paused once he was closer and took a look at your panties. "All this just from some simple words." It was almost condescending yet admirable how he said it. "You flatter me." (I'll make music with this pussy)

You shrieked as he mouthed you through the cloth. This man was a tease. You shouldn't be surprised, but you were going to get him to cooperate as much as your foggy mind could do.

"Mmm papi chulo, give it to me good. Plesse baby," you begged, and it seemed that Miguel had a weakness for words too. He wasted no time dragging your soaked panties down and toss them behind. He grinned meanly hearing a faint plop sound on the floor. So wet.

Your hand quickly found the back of his head once his tongue made contact on your clit. You didn't think he'd go for it so quickly, but it seemed he was bent on getting you to cum hard and fast. He lapped up your cunt and made it slicker with his drool. He easily lifted you up a little to bring you closer, and you found yourself losing it when he teased by your hole.

He didn't let up--groaning when you gasped after he gave you a finger. He pumped slowly yet consistently and moved his mouth around to give everywhere all of his attention. Soon, your ears could only focus on the sounds that were coming out of your own mouth and the approval from Miguel below. He took a breather to play with your clit and was in daze hearing how it wet and slippery you sounded. You were all pants, moans, and whimpers. He smirked up at you--face shiny and wet.

"You sound so pretty, hermosa. You gonna soak my sheets by the time I'm done with you." you clenched around his fingers. "Mmm, I know baby; you want it badly." he started fingering you faster. "I wouldn't even need my dick to get this pussy squirting." your moans went up a pitch as that knot suddenly got tighter. "Ooo, hermosa. Such a slutty pussy doesn't even need a dick to make her happy. I should've made you cum with my voice, yeah? Say all those filthy things about you being a brat and how you make daddy so mad." you sobbed at that.

"You should've just been a good girl and asked daddy to fuck this pretty cunt of yours." He sped up and you were pulling at the sheets as three fingers made you clench up--going harder and making you fill fuller. "Naughty girls keep secrets. Maybe I'll stop right now."

That got you talking. "No, no, daddy please. Daddy please. I'm sorry. I'm sorry I'm such a slut and didn't ask for your dick. Please I'll be so good baby. I'll be such a good girl." you babbled on.

Miguel's cock was begging to be free. You knew just what to say it seemed. "Mmm, that's what I want to hear. Come on reina, let me see you make a mess. You gonna cum on my fingers, for me?" Your eyes were rolling to the back of your head as you panted and struggled for air.. Wet sex sounds bounced off the walls, and you were going to be done soon. "Start cumming bebita. I'll fuck you so good after this. Yeah? Give it to me. Right there, mmhm. Fuck there you go." Miguel watched as your release started coating his fingers and dripped onto his wrist. He kept going a little til you started to twitch then slowly decreased to stop.

You were slumped on the bed trying to process what just happened while your body recovered from such an intense orgasm. "Fuck," you said to yourself. You groaned as your legs were gently rubbed, and you could barely glance down at the man.

He was all smiles and innocence despite how he met your gaze and cleaned his fingers. Gosh that mouth was going to be the death of you.

As if he reading your thoughts, he grinned before starting to move. "Let me show you what else my body can do."

~~~

Whew! Oh my gosh, I can't believe I wrote this. I'm actually happy with it. I like how Miguel's personality is and I hope my mediocre Spanish skills weren't a pain. I needed to get this idea out my head, and I'm so happy how this is. Maybe I should try writing audio scripts 🤔Thanks for reading~

(Go download Quinn y'all. You will not be disappointed)

[momopatchi]

Hey! I love your work & I would like to know if you could share a bit about your career & give any advice you may have.

Recently I got into my dream art school, which is thousands of miles away from me, I'm experimenting with having multiple online income streams to help me pay for everything. I'm interested in seeing how this may look for different people in hopes of gaining some new perspectives & ideas.

So, do you make most of your income from social media? If so, what does that look like for you? And how do you balance school, work, and a social life?

Excuse me if those are intrusive questions, I completely understand not wanting to share that kind of information. But either way, thank you, I truly love your art so much! Have a good day!!!

Thank you for asking! I was on a similar track a few years ago when I enrolled. My personal relationship between monetization and art is strenuous at best and I usually relegate it to a passive form of income. all the art I have sold have been physical goods , which were only reformatted to be prints. and weren't really drawn with the intention for being sold. I've never opened a comms sheet but do concessional ko-fi's , kind of low commitment/intensity things. so passively selling prints.stickers etc through 3rd party is most of my income ,since being a full-time animation student hasn't allowed for a lot of part time work. I also occassionally stream and post sketchbooks,comics and zine's on itch.io , which have been the most fulfilling to me. There is no mandatory paywall or anything and everything I share is donation based... That's the super tricky part about the work life balance for me. School mandates a lot of personal sacrifice, your going to be making a lot things , not necessarily on your own terms. So separating the monetization from the art making process itself has been the most sustainable thing for me in terms of burnout / time management . lool that was kinda long winded and little all over the place. But i am someone that prioritizes creative agency, but please do what ever works for you and allows you to live comfortably! :) ganbatte <3

[extracurious]

Alright ,

here is the final part of the comic. 😊

THOSE UNSPOKEN WORDS AND THE LINGERING THOUGHTS...

Chapter 4:And what was left of time...

"Paying attention" had now became out of syllabus for him cause thinking about her was one of her comforting subject which he didn't want to miss.

It felt suffocating... kind of alienated... as if sustenance became a new predicament among the top scorers of Vision Academy which he already realised from the submission of the earlier assignments. So somehow managing to complete all the classes, he quickly left the place .

He had his hands in his pockets and his head down,as he walked towards his dorm room without slackening his pace,which gave him a deceptively tired appearance.

On reaching his destination, he gently pulled the door shut behind himself.

Taking off the blazer and laying it out across the chair,he pondered over the situation and began chiding himself for the mess he was in. After all, he didn't want to disappoint his caring parents with his deteriorating grades.

Yes he should be working on it instead of screwing up everything!

He took a deep breath,to calm his nerves..

Miles leaned back in his chair, drinking the the water while staring at the ceiling.

As usual, his heart pounded excitedly and his imagination soared.He wished he could squeeze all the freedom out of his strenuous time;exploring,wandering afar and getting lost in relativity of time and finally succeeding in finding the special universe he wanted to visit the most. But he constantly reminded himself that it was just one of his forbidden fantasies and should stop dreaming about it day and night.

When an opportunity for friendship did present itself, as it had one of the previous days, he recoiled away, preferring his own company and of course his loyal roomate,Ganke. Definitely keeping the identity secret was a tough job for him.

He had a certain innocence which was not likely to leave him. He didn't want to burn out like the sun at the end of the day, he wished to break way. Just being authentic and raw. Simple.

He got inspired from the spider gang to pursue his spiderman life and eventually became the inspiration for someone dear to him unknowingly.

Sometimes he would lay awake, eyes wide open, brimming with tears, he didn't know if the tears were for himself or for her...

He assumed that she looked touched by his friendly support and that was the reason why she talked to him but part of him felt she did to make him feel better? Of course all these assumptions and theories were due to her not explaining the actions towards him.

On other hand he knew what he was doing.

It was not just merely a gesture of empathy, more like overwhelmed with want to know her fully as a person behind that mask.

Snapping himself from the fantasy, he tried to wake up and face the reality, to make his mind accept the truth!

But could he deny what his gut would say? Maybe it would take time but not yet...

The city needed him and he would push himself too hard,to figure out how to balance, cause one thing he was sure which reminded him of his uncle ,that he had to keep going..... being brave and selfless....adapting himself to changing circumstances just like a true hero, thereby taking the people's safety and his fate in his own hands. Atleast that much he could do as a proud son of his mom and dad ... just not to shatter their high hopes for him , cause he only desired to embrace what he had got and gather the courage to move on in life.

-extracurious

(Not to be reposted 😊|| like, comments,reblogs allowed)

[yupuffin]

No but I'm actually so salty about just how deeply entrenched amatonormativity is into our society, about the tendency to underestimate just how harmful it is to aroace people, and about how widespread the misconception is that simply being queer is enough to combat it when the process is really quite a bit more active than that.

There are so many financial, social, and other privileges I'm effectively locked out of due to being aroace -- something entirely out of my control -- even in a primarily queer social circle.

I have to work a strenuous full-time job, to the detriment of my health, in order to make ends meet, due to not having a spouse with whom I can split most costs of living and/or who is willing to help cover some essentials (such as unexpected medical bills) so that I can afford to dedicate less time and energy to employee work and more to (potentially monetized) hobbies.

Socially, I will never be any individual's "default" or "go-to" person, as that position, from an amatonormative standpoint, is reserved for spouses and significant others. Even if I did take matters into my own hands to fight amatonormativity and personally delegate such a person for myself, that relationship would be inherently unequal, balanced against me, so long as that person also subscribes to amatonormativity, even if they aren't currently partnered. My bids to socialize are subject to the availability of the other party, dependent on whether they've already committed to a significant other they will, by default, prioritize more -- and because I'm not part of their in-group by default, anything I want to be included in for certain, I have to expend the time and effort to assemble the plan myself, which is not the case for anyone who can count on being included on anything their partner plans for or with them.

These are just a few of the countless impacts of amatonormativity on my daily life -- and the thing is, on their own, as numerous as they are, they're not particularly harmful. As an aroace (and possibly not yet schizoid) adolescent with no desire whatsoever to find a life partner, I was optimistic, figuring it wouldn't be too much of a problem so long as I maintained a robust network of platonic relationships to serve as the equivalent of the material and social safety nets enjoyed by those with partners -- and in theory, this works excellently. In practice, though, such a situation is exceedingly rare and difficult to execute; in my adolescence, I gravely underestimated the sheer abundance of people who are either partnered or actively seeking partnership, or who misunderstand that combating amatonormativity, like other forms of allyship, is a process that must be conducted actively and deliberately, rather than something that can be done simply by existing and maintaining the status quo, so to speak, even as an aroace person. As an adult, I struggle greatly to locate, much less form a relationship with (assuming we're even compatible, platonically speaking), anyone available and willing to invest in to the relationship to the degree that our priorities will be effectively mutual.

Being aroace and unpartnered in an amatonormative world, thus, is a paradox, as I'm less financially and socially available than those with dedicated life partners due to lacking support I would typically get from such a partner, to which the system operates under the assumption I have access.

Exacerbating the isolating effect of amatonormativity is the tendency to be often labeled and thereby dismissed as merely petty, jealous and/or insecure, implying that the obstacles I experience due to being aroace and unpartnered are entirely internal and simply need to be overcome, rather than direct effects of an amatonormative society with tangible detriments to my quality of life -- implying that, were the emotional aspect resolved, the aforementioned practical disadvantages would likewise disappear on their own (they wouldn't).

And now I'm pondering the relationship between placement on the aroace spectrum and schizoid personality disorder, because whereas the former is usually listed as a symptom of the latter, I'm starting to think that, in reality, the relationship is more reciprocal than that. For example, I think it's fair to say that I choose social isolation and solitariness as a result of being schizoid to about the same extent that I'm isolated into a schizoid lifestyle as a result of being aroace, for the reasons listed above.

[formulaes5]

let me go (let me go down)

"I could totally suck you off right now," Seb slurs through the cotton wool in his mouth, grinning and dribbling blood from the corner of his mouth and down his chin, "I'm like a machine, Mark." “Oookay Sebster, let's get you tucked back into bed huh?” Or, Seb gets his wisdom teeth out and wakes up high off his ass on anaesthetic, absolutely determined to make it Mark's problem.

☆ 2k, T, ao3 ☆

Mark sat awkwardly next to the bed in a private hospital room, perched on the edge of a frightfully uncomfortable chair with a book balanced precariously on his knee, stuck into the important task of trying to work out what the hell to do with his legs. If he stretched them out he ran out of space, and if he crossed them over each other for too long it was uncomfortable and he would just have to switch anyway.

Seb’s mother had been meant to fly in from Germany to stay at Seb’s house in Switzerland with him for a few days while he recovered from having his wisdom teeth removed after months of “meaning to get around to it”, finally being convinced (read: forced) by the terrifying combined force of his mother and Mark to get it done in the winter break when he would have time to recover without interruption. Fortunately for Mark, she had cancelled her trip at the last moment due to unavoidable scheduling conflicts, leaving the sole responsibility of making sure Seb didn’t do anything too stupid or strenuous on Mark. For a variety of reasons, Mark was quite happy with this sudden change of plans; first and foremost being that he genuinely enjoyed looking after Seb. He enjoyed making Seb breakfast and washing his hair in the shower and waving farewell to hoodies that Seb had decided looked better on his side of the wardrobe, as well as all the other shit that was generally considered to be lame and soppy that Mark secretly loved with a passion. Sue him, he was still going to pull Seb’s chair out for him and tell him he looked beautiful. The second reason was that he rightfully found Sebastian’s mother to be slightly terrifying in the way that only the mother of your much younger boyfriend could be, and having her hovering over his shoulder watching him like a hawk would have inevitably come with the potential of making things incredibly stilted and awkward.

He looked over at the occupant of the only bed in the room. Seb was completely dead to the world, his blond hair laid out in a halo around his head on the pillow. Reaching out to gently stroke a lock of soft blond hair off Seb’s forehead, he smiled as Seb reacted subconsciously to the touch with a little snuffle. At the risk of sounding like a creep, Mark had always thought that Seb looked gorgeous in his sleep, one round cheek often squished into Mark’s chest and his lovely pink lips slightly parted. Due to his natural tendency to wake earlier than Seb – who had never woken up on time for anything in his life – he often got a front row seat to his adorable little snuffles and nonsensical mumbling, finding them to be rather unreasonably charming. 

Mark was probably going soft, he thought to himself as he watched his boyfriend sleep, but ultimately he couldn’t really bring himself to care. Not when he got to have Seb in exchange. Seb who was constantly burrowing his head into Mark’s chest in his sleep, Seb who was funny and sweet and caring, and only occasionally insane. Seb who was slowly opening his eyes, groaning as he came to.

“Hey there sweetheart, back with us?”

“Hwuaah??” Seb groaned eloquently, reaching up to rub blearily at his eyes, taking stock of the situation as his vision swam into clarity. He was in a hospital bed and his jaw hurt like a motherfucker. He felt dazed and confused and like his head was full of bees. He liked bees. “Did they take my teeth?” he asked worriedly. He was sure this was something to do with his teeth.

Mark huffed a laugh, “Yep, all gone now.” he replied, watching as Seb scrunched his face up adorably.

Seb looked up in confusion; Mark was here! Hang on… Why was Mark here? What possible reason could his Red Bull Racing teammate have to be in his hospital room waiting for him to wake up? Was Christian here too? Maybe Rocky or Britta? He had no fucking clue why they would be here, but surely if Mark was here then there was an increased likelihood of the others being here as well. He looked around the room for whoever Mark was calling sweetheart, only to come face to face with exactly nobody. They were the only people in the room, unless everybody was crowded behind the door off to the side that he was assuming was a bathroom. He eyed the door suspiciously, mentally picturing a gaggle of Red Bull employees piled into the bathroom in standard clown car fashion. He hoped Doctor Marko wasn’t there.

“Wer ist… Sweetheart?” he mumbled, not entirely sure what was going on but quite liking the idea that maybe it was him that Mark was calling sweetheart. A nice pipe dream if nothing else.

“That’d be you, mate.”

What? He was sweetheart? Were they together? Maybe he had forgotten something? He should probably check.

English, Seb thought to himself determinedly, “Whoah… are- are you… are we dating?”

“Yup,” replied mark, popping the P happily and wondering exactly how stupid the dental anaesthetic had made his boyfriend. 

Seb looks absolutely shocked, blue eyes opened wide, “Have… have we,” he trails off, blushing hard, “have we kissed?” 

“Yeah mate, once or twice” Mark laughs, really struggling to hold it together at this point. 

Seb is stunned. Speechless. He feels like he just won the fucking lottery. He also feels tired and disoriented and his jaw is aching something awful, but Mark Fucking Webber is sitting next to his hospital bed telling him that they’re dating. Seb is Elated. Somehow he had managed to bag Mark Webber. He had bagged Notorious Cheekbones and Jawline Guy, Mark Webber. He did that. Holy shit. 

“So I can just kiss you? Like in real life?” Seb is flabbergasted. “Oh mein gott…”

Mark sets his book aside and gets up from his awful chair bemusedly. If he’s totally honest, this is the funniest thing Seb has ever done and he’s loving every minute of it. He sits down on the bed, deciding to tactfully ignore the way Seb goes very quiet and attempts to check his breath by exhaling heavily into his hand, slightly impeded by the amount of blood soaked cotton wool shoved into his mouth. He leans over and places a gentle kiss high up on Seb’s bright red cheek, mindful of Seb’s very recent surgery and trying to avoid hurting him by accident.

Seb melts. 

After he recovers from the life changing occasion of getting a kiss from his boyfriend, he moves to sit up, trying to get a better view of Mark, more specifically to watch the muscles of his neck and the line of his jaw as he tilts his head back to take a drink of water. The way his adam’s apple bobs in his throat should probably be illegal, because in combination with his stubble, vaguely rumpled hair, and soft blue t-shirt, Seb is feeling things. 

“Wait…” All of a sudden he has an absolutely burning question to ask, and if it doesn’t get answered now, Seb doesn’t think that he should be liable for anything that happens as a result of his unsated curiosity.

Mark is already mentally preparing himself for something endearingly ridiculous or just downright stupid to come pouring out of Sebastian’s mouth. Whatever it is he’s sure it will be interesting at least. He decides to risk a reply. “Yeah?”

This should be good. He would totally be telling Jenson all about this.

Seb leans in closer, blushing beet red before managing to rush out, “do we… dowehavesex?” in a hissed whisper behind his hand, which was entirely unnecessary in a room with only two people in it, but Seb clearly wasn’t at a point of recovery where his critical thinking skills had kicked back in yet.

Mark is blushing now too as he responds in the affirmative, deciding maybe this particular aspect of the conversation could conveniently not make its way to Jenson, actually. This is one of the most ridiculous situations Mark has been in lately – perhaps even ever – but it’s nonetheless a great ego boost to have Seb loose lipped and blushing about their relationship. He’s always been confident that Seb found him attractive, but the way that he’s staring at him with barely concealed elation and wonder is a nice confirmation.

The positive response has kicked Sebastian’s flailing brain into overdrive, he’s actually dating his teammate, Mark Webber. Mark Webber who he had always had a big embarrassing crush on, and apparently they have sex, which is normal for a couple. Obviously. Of course they have sex. Is it good sex? Should he ask? No – obviously it’s good sex; Seb doesn’t have bad sex, he wouldn’t put up with anything less. He should do something cool, maybe say something, he thinks offhandedly. He should say something smooth to really make Mark like him, though surely Mark liked him if he was dating him. Seb thought he was pretty likeable, not to mention pretty cute. He decided that he was going to say something really smooth, just in case Mark needed some gentle encouragement. Just say something cool. Easy.

"I could totally suck you off right now," Seb slurred through the cotton wool in his mouth, grinning and dribbling blood from the corner of his mouth and down his chin, "I'm like a machine, Mark."

Mark has never had to fight so hard not to laugh in his entire fucking life. He’s definitely just snorted some water out of his nose in reaction to that awfully timed yet incredibly confident statement. Trust Seb to come out of wisdom teeth removal surgery and immediately start talking about sucking dick. He’s insatiable, the little monster. But he’s Mark’s little monster, so he should probably nip this one in the bud before it gets out of hand.

“Oookay Sebster, let's get you tucked back into bed huh?”

“No, I could!” Seb protests. 

Mark loses the battle with his own amusement and bursts out laughing. This was absolutely priceless. Seb, from where he’s sat in bed high on residual anaesthetic, doesn’t understand what all the fuss is about.

“Why are you laughing at me Mark? I could totally suck your dick right now!” Seb boasts. He doesn’t understand why Mark is laughing, he was cool with that, right?

“Look Seb, as fetching as you look in your backless hospital gown right now, that is the worst idea I’ve ever heard in my entire life, and you’ve had some fucking shockers.”

“Oh bitte Mark,” Seb whines, turning the full force of his big blue eyes onto Mark, “please?”

This was fucking hilarious, thought Mark as he gently pressed at Seb’s chest, trying to encourage him to lie back down. He had gone into this knowing that anaesthetic could sometimes make people say things they normally wouldn’t. He could certainly attest to having been a bit strange when he got his out, but that had manifested as him repeatedly telling his older sister that he loved her as she helped him into the backseat of the car, not professing his dick sucking skills for the world to hear, thank God for small mercies.

“C’mon Seb, lie back down,” Mark encouraged, really hoping that the nurse wouldn’t choose this moment to come bustling into the room to check on her patient. “Attaboy.”

“Spoilsport,” Seb huffed from the bed, having lost his battle with gravity and Mark, as well as the separate, but equally important battle he had been fighting with tiredness. He was determined to grumble about it nevertheless. He continued to make his displeasure known, insisting repeatedly “I’m not even tired, actually,” and “You’re no fun”. The message was only slightly undermined by the multiple yawns Seb was letting loose, as well as the soft smile on his face as he gazed up at Mark with wonder in his eyes.

Mark picked Seb’s hand up gently from on top of the hospital blanket, stroking his thumb across his knuckles a few times before moving his head downward to place a kiss on the back of it, Seb practically purring in response.

“I s’pose we can pencil it in for two weeks from now if you really insist on scheduling it though.”

“Shut up.”

“Love you too Sweetheart, sleep well now.”

[nicromancytarot]

YOUR DAILY ROUTINE 5 YEARS FROM NOW

This is a general reading based on a collective of people. Take what resonates and leave what doesn’t. If you don’t feel like the pile resonates with you, don’t be scared to pick another, if it still doesn’t feel right, that’s ok! Maybe our energies aren’t as connected and my readings are not for you.

I do these strictly for fun and educational purposes. I do not charge for these readings, and I do not fake readings. I would tell you the cards I get for the readings, but I pull like 15-20 cards each reading and that is just slightly a strenuous task to write them all down lmao.

PICK A CARD READING

I asked my spirit guides what your daily routine looks like in 5 years time, pick a card to find out what they had to say!

Pile 1 ———> Pile 2 ———> Pile 3

DISCLAIMER: the timelines I give are not the period as a whole, they are just an estimate of the time when these events could happen.

PILE 1

7:00-7:30am: Wake up, I got the lyric “7am the usual morning line up” from “When will my life begin?” Rapunzel, so you guys are waking up early. The first thing you do is either feed your pets or children, I’m getting heavy dogs for those of you who don’t have kids by this time, but I am seeing a lot of children vibes.

8:00-900am: Showering and getting ready, if you have kids, your partner will be up and looking after them for you, or this will be the time you take them to school. I feel like you’ll be listening to podcasts or ted talks every morning to get you ready for the day.

9:30-10:00am: Checking emails? You might be working from home and checking your emails or messages from clients or employers. I see you sat at your desk with a warm cup of something, going through things on your computer, your partner walks in and lets you know that they’re leaving for work now.

10:30-11:30am: Work work work, you guys will find yourself dealing with a lot of work during this time, however I do think that you make money by the hour, some of you could have a job that ensures you get paid separately by each client (like Tarot or something)

12:00-1:00pm: Making lunch for your partner, you guys will either go out to buy it and then drop it by their work, or you will make it yourself so that it feels special. Some of you could be seen as the “trophy spouse” when it comes to your partners work, they all think you’re a doll and are probably jealous of the food that you bring for your partner.

1:30-2:00pm: You can do whatever you want, this is your break time to go shopping or chill on the couch and watch your favourite show, I see that this changes often so you may like to do different things during this break, it’s not something that is set in stone forever.

2:00-3:00pm: Back to work, I feel this is when you do your best and most progressive work, some of you may be balancing another online job like authoring or possibly being a ghost writer for someone else. This is the time when you would absolutely hate to be distracted or interrupted.

3:00:3:30pm: Your final time to rest up before having to pick up the kids or take your dogs on a walk. During this time you might make yourself a snack, tidy the house (although I feel like you guys have a cleaner)

3:30-4:00pm: Little bit of a messy thirty minutes, you’re rushing around, which is why I think kids could be involved here, the school pick up is never easy lmao. For those of you who don’t have kids, this may just be you being dragged around the street by your dogs (I think they are large)

4:30-5:00pm: Your partner is home! You are also probably dealing with your children fighting during this time LMAOO, one of them wants the TV remote and the other is pissed. This could also be your time to catch up with your partner and tell each other about your day.

5:00-6:00pm: Dinner time, I do think you’ll be the one making dinner, but you definitely want to, sometimes your partner helps you out, but since you did the school run both ways, they’re looking after the kids for you now. You spend a while on cooking, you may even get it prepared around lunch time, throwing some meat in the slow cooker for later.

6:00-7:00pm: wind down time with family, chilling on the couch with the pets, watching as the kids play on the trampoline outside, relaxing in the arms of your significant other. Very calm energy for this.

7:30pm-9:30pm: The battle of the demons, time to put the kids to bed! The kids don’t like going to bed. “But I went to sleep yesterday!” You’ll have a field trip with these.

10:00pm-12:00am: You wanna get spicy with your partner? You can, here’s your opportunity. I do see you guys trying to make another kid around this time if you already have them, or perhaps this is your first. Relaxing in bed with your significant other, I’m seeing someone counting 100 dollar bills, so take that as you will, you may even take a shower together to end the night, or possibly getting wet in other ways is your way to close the day.

PILE 2

5:00-6:00am: Wake up. You guys may have to commute to work, and need to wake up early, for some of you, your work could be over seas, like if you lived in Paris but commuted to London for work everyday using the tunnel, or if you lived on the Isle Of White in the UK and needed to travel on a ferry to get to your job, either way, you’re waking up before the sun rises.

7:00-9:00am: Work, you’re at work for the majority of the day now, your job itself seems something that you’re used to and like doing, a lot of you may have to coordinate meetings, so you could be a higher up. There does seem to be a tad of stress here and there, for a few this may be caused by need of public speaking, for others there could be workplace drama.

10:00am-4:00pm: The people around you look up to you a lot, you may own a company or share management of it, there is a possibility of you working in something which involves fighting, a few of you may be in the army, and this could be the cause for the early wake up and start to the day. Either way, whatever you’re doing, you are the head of it, people have to work with you in order to climb the ranks and better improve their chance of success. You could honestly be in control of pay upgrades and promotions for your business or workplace. I see you making a lot of money by having a lot of control.

5:00-6:00pm: Home time, I see you making dinner or possibly even ordering out, although I do think that you have a healthy diet and lifestyle. A few of you could have your own cook, or utilise certain artificial intelligence that makes food??? (I don’t know bro, my guides seem to think that could be a thing of the future, you could have an online recipe book that you follow)

7:30-10:00pm: Resting up or doing whatever you want. I can’t get a strong read on this as I think it changes each day, you could sometimes go on a run, other time you’re baking cookies on call with your mother. I do think you have a strict schedule you follow when it becomes time to go to bed, you sleep like a log lmao. Some of you may be looking for a relationship at this time, and this could be the entry period for going on dates, perhaps you go on multiple dates a night lol, you seem to be the life of the party either way. A lot of you don’t drink, I see someone at a bar holding a juice box so take that as you will.

Sorry it was so short pile 2! Your day is much more put together and scheduled.

PILE 3

4:00-9:00am: If you have a young baby at this time, you may immediately go to nursing them as soon as you wake up, it honestly could even be that you’ve woken up early morning, your partner comes over to your side of the bed holding the baby, hands it to you. I do see a lot of stress around this time, so honestly I think the majority, if not all of you will have kids in five years time.

7:00-9:00am: I see you spending this time laying in your bed with your partner, possibly the kids have joined you now and you’re all just relaxing watching some TV for the few hours that you have until the morning begins and you need to get up and ready. For the few of you who may not be in a relationship or have kids, this could be a pet perhaps that you are spending the early morning with.

8:00-10:00am: You’re getting out of bed around this time and heading to the kitchen to get some breakfast started, you may have time to take a quick shower around this time, your partner will be looking after the kids, getting them all ready for the day so they can come and eat breakfast in time when it’s made.

8:30-9:00am: Some big change happens around this time, it may be that the kids are taken to school, or you perhaps take them to school. I’m seeing that this is the moment you begin your work for the day, I’m not too sure if you leave the house for it, I think so, as it does seem that there’s a change of scenery.

10:00am-12:00pm: This time is spent getting everything together for your job, I am seeing someone grabbing some coffee, if you work a corporate job, you’ll be getting yourself and some other people some coffee, collecting papers to make sure all your paperwork is complete. Some of you could be a therapist, psychologist or something to do with examining people, this is when you grab all your stuff to prepare for your clients, possible meetings etc.

12:00-1:00pm: A lot of teamwork around this time, this will be your first meeting of the day, first client, first job that you are supposed to complete. I see a need to write down a lot of stuff, you may even have a meeting presentation during this hour. Your lunch time may appear late, you perhaps have a job that runs over the normal lunch hour, so you go on your break in the next 1-2 hours.

2:00-3:00pm: Lunch time, I feel like you will leave your work building to go and buy lunch elsewhere, or perhaps your partner will bring you lunch themself, you might even order it into your section. You could be getting paid this time everyday, or you may count up your money for the day at this point.

3:30-4:00pm: You get to decide what you do here, I think sometimes you get the opportunity to go home at this time, other days you have to stay a little later, I think it depends on your schedule and the day of the week.

5:00-6:00pm: You get home during this period, I see there possibly being some time for you to relax and so what you want, before your partner and kids come home, some of you may have family around at this time each day? Or perhaps you live with extended family members and they will be making dinner for you, or getting some things done.

7:00pm-12:00am: A lot of you honestly could have family helping around the house, or perhaps you even have personal butlers, I don’t see you having to do much when it comes to making dinner, getting the kids to bed or anything, I see that you’ll be working hard on some paperwork that needs finishing, or getting your schedule ready for tomorrow, you’ll mainly be focusing on your work during this period too, I feel like you like to be prepared. You may get intimate with your partner during this time, I don’t see it lasting for too long as I think they go to bed earlier than you.

[sketch-guardian]

FUNNY IDEA!!

Rad and Angel classmates training with Mc and Mc absolutely rocking their shit on accident by giving them the most nasty and dirtiest left hook imaginable to the face like they get punched so hard them fall to the ground trying to process what the fuck just happened as they slowly process what happened and Mc stands above them with the most shocked face ever “😃😄😃” or “😮😯😲” like they knew they had a mean left hook but didn’t think it’d be THAT nasty like it’s deadass that one audio that goes “damn they really about to rock my shi-“ before the punch makes contact EVEN MORE FUNNY IF IT HAPPENS A SECOND TIME BUT THIS TIME ITS A NASTY ASS KICK TO THE GROUND LIKE THEYRE PREPARED FOR THE PUNCH BUT NOT THE KICK CAUSE ITS BASICALLY CANON HUMANS ARENT THST STRONG I THINK THEYD HAVE LIKE HAVE SOME MINOR COCKINESS NOT EXPECTING TO GET THEIR SHIT ROCKED🤣

(I’m so sorry for the word vomit😭)

I apologize for the sudden hiatus without a warning🙈but university have kept me busier than expected, between group projects and an exam, leaving me weary and with no energy to check Tumblr😭Today, I found some motivation and since I wanted to be fair, I finally replied to two requests I had in the ask box, although I still apologize for the awful delay😞

After these, I think I will have take a break from writing for a bit, perhaps focusing on drawings again or only writing headcanons without deadlines when I have free time. I won't close the ask box, in case someone wanted to send comments on the OCs or small questions to which I can answer briefly, however the long headcanons will have to wait, maybe for the holidays😥I hope you can forgive me:

"RAD CLASSMATES+NEW EXCHANGE STUDENTS WITH A STRONG MC KICKING THEIR ASS ON ACCIDENT DURING TRAINING"

DEMYA

In Demya's culture, it was typical to fight to show one's strength and worthiness as a mate for life. So it wouldn't be strange for her to train with MC, in fact it would be equivalent to courting at the very least (imagine Lae'zel from BG3 for example-), although it would be more strenuous than the usual playful brawls with MC. Since MC is Demya's mate, she wouldn't underestimate them despite their human race, there's a reason why they're together after all, however Demya wouldn't be able to deny that she wasn't ready to receive such a punch straight to the face, enough to send her to the ground and maybe even make her lips bleed. At first Demya would be stunned by MC's brute strength, but then, licking the blood off her lips, she would grin widely and burst into laughter, in an almost hysterical manner, euphoric and maybe slightly excited at such discovery. Demya, dressed in a workout outfit consisting of a black sports bra and shorts, panting a little and perhaps accidentally drooling while smiling, would pin MC to the ground, exclaiming that it was awesome and that they should definitely do it again

DOMNRA/MOBIM

Domnra is all for working out and sports, so for once he would be thrilled to be able to share his hobby with MC, maybe even finding the opportunity to show off for once, whether it be through physical strength and muscles or fighting skills with his shadow powers, in his demon form he can also use his tail and a dagger made of magic. Domnra would wear a black tank top and dark purple sweatpants to train, his hair tied in a low ponytail. Domnra would attempt to refrain from doing so, however he couldn't help but underestimate MC's physical strength as a human at first, so he would try to take it easy on them, before getting completely humiliated by a punch to the face, enough to make him lose balance and hurt his already poor ego as well, he would need a few minutes to recover from the embarrassement. With tsundere hesitation, finding their powerful display slightly attractive, Domnra would admit that MC is stronger than he expected and that next time, he won't hold back. Mobim would be too worried to watch Domnra and MC training, so the little curse would discover about MC's strenght only later on

AZUL

Azul, despite being a rather active and eccentric demon, usually channels his energy into creative hobbies or partying, he isn't exactly the athletic type, evident from his twink figure. Azul floats around most of the time and often uses magic to avoid unnecessary efforts, so, being a bit weak on the physical side, it wouldn't surprise him to get easily destroyed by MC, despite their human nature. Azul wouldn't have appropriate clothes for training, as he never does, so he would either use his demon form outfit or buy something specifically for the occasion, something that would compliment his shape, maybe to tease MC and distract them. The first time Azul got hit in the face and knocked to the ground, it would shock him greatly, leaving him dumbfounded with a hand on his cheek and his colors changing to grey, before turning pink as he sees MC on top of him, worried for his conditions. Azul would joke that they were pretty rough and that next time they could at least buy him dinner first or kiss his boo-boo, a comment that would earn him another shove. Being a bit of a masochist as well as sadist, Azul wouldn't be too upset and as a revenge next time he would use his ghost like powers to phase through MC

ZURI

Zuri doesn't train often, but as in many other activities, she would be skilled in physical exercise too, elegant and flawless even in battle, performing piercing blows with her weapon, able to fight even without it of course. Zuri's training clothing would consist of her casual outfit, only without her white jacket, which would leave her with long black gloves and a tight sleeveless turtleneck sweater, she would look quite badass, especially since she would fight with her high-heeled boots without any difficulty. Zuri wouldn't understand why MC would want to train with her when there are more suitable people, maybe even less aloof and cold than her, however she would gladly accept, since it was still a request from her beloved. Zuri would sense MC's hidden power, so although initially taken by surprise, which is rare, she would fall to her knees after the punch but not flinch, wiping any blood or smudged makeup from her face or feeling for bruises, swellings, which would heal quickly anyway due to her demon nature. Zuri would eventually smirk faintly, showing her fangs, and mutter that she is glad to know that MC has other means to defend themself besides magic

ODON

Not sure why MC thought it could be a good idea to ask an eldritch horror, for whom a mere glance would be enough to erase MC from existence, to help them with their workouts, especially because physically speaking, Odon doesn't need to train to be strong or resilient, they don't even feel much pain, at most sometimes they just get weary when they shapeshift, on one occasion a creature even tore off their arm once and Odon didn't even flinch, they simply waited for it to grow back (fun fact: Odon has green blood). Odon is aware that if they used their strength seriously, MC would turn to dust and they don't want to hurt their dear friend, so Odon's role would basically be that of a dummy, keeping their casual clothes. Odon would perceive MC's extraordinary power thanks to their perception skills, so they wouldn't be surprised, the eldritch horror would just find the situation peculiar, almost amusing. It would be like unstoppable force vs immovable object, basically Odon wouldn't move an inch despite the punch, they would chuckle and compliment MC on their strength

REMIEL

Oh god, even if accidental, why would MC do such a thing to an innocent angel like Remiel during training? MC would also have to pray that Death, Remiel's father, never finds out about them punching his daughter, because the grim reaper might come visit MC prematurely. Remiel seems weak and frail in appearance, almost like a porcelain doll, however she's still an angel of death, the archangel of hope, daughter of Death and Azrael, so she is actually pretty powerful, enough to beat even Uriel and Nathaniel. Remiel would have no specific set of clothing to train in, owning only her black robe, and although confused by MC's request, she would try to support them, minding her strength. She would be baffled by MC's punch, however she would manage not to fall to the ground and only take a few steps back, turning her face from the blow and brushing her cheek with curiosity, while MC would feel like the worst being in all realms. Remiel would ask MC a lot of questions, to find out if they are aware of the origin or source of their power and if not, she would do some research through books. Remiel wouldn't be hurt over being hit, because from a logical point of view, it was just training

NATHANIEL

Nathaniel is a rather quiet angel and he's a sort of scribe for duty, however when he dedicates himself to meditation, a bit like a sort of monk, sometimes he also trains with archery or martial arts, in fact despite being slim, Nathaniel is still faintly toned, accentuated by his training attire, namely a sleeveless gray and light blue robe, pants of the same color, furthermore he would keep his hair tied in a ponytail, with a blue bow given to him by Luke, as a scrunchie. Nathaniel would accept MC's request to train together, planning a training program suited for MC's abilities, so as not to exhaust them too much, the archangel of patience would also make sure to warm them up first and have them meditate as well. Surprising Nathaniel isn't easy, so MC should pat themself on the back for having shocked the archangel, sending him to the ground with a blow to the face. Nathaniel would grab his jaw, stroking it lightly, still surprised by the punch, however he would be quietly pleased by the novelty, finding the twist very interesting. Nathaniel would let out an amused scoff and take the situation more seriously, no longer underestimating MC and inviting them to continue training, with his hair subtly disheveled, swaying in the breeze (Nathaniel looks better when he's at ease)

URIEL

Uriel, as a warrior angel, believes that it's right to train daily and that it's her duty to make sure she's always in perfect shape, ready to face any battle, given her position as the archangel of justice. Usually Uriel would train in the warrior angels' quarters, with other angels or dummies, always wearing her armor, in fact she rarely gets rid of it. Uriel would be enthusiastic over MC's request and would gladly accept, feeling honored to have been chosen, being the most suitable angel to practice with for such a regimen of physical exercise. Uriel would probably underestimate MC as a human and attempt not to let her enthusiasm get the better of her strength, she would try to hold back in order to avoid hurting MC. Her four wings would ruffle up after falling to the ground due to the punch, staring at MC in disbelief. At first, Uriel's pride would be shattered, because she got humiliated by a human, however her affection for MC would soon win and she would praise them, comparing them to a warrior angel and immediately thinking of other ways to test their strength, a startling discovery for sure, in fact Uriel would want an explanation for it as well. Uriel would make MC demonstrate their strength on several occasions, secretly finding them attractive, much to her embarrassment

[roopnavarro]

What kind of boyfriend do you think Octoboss would have?

*Rubs hands together*

I AM SO GLAD YOU ASKED ADSFSASDLBFDSH

I have the EXACT answer, actually! I ship him with my girfriend's ( @mygodcharles ) OC, Anatole, AKA "Toley!"

Anatole is the glider/flamethrower operator we see in the Stowaway chase scene. (Toley's the one that Furiosa kicks under the wheels after killing Octoboss) He and Octoboss have been in a happy, stable relationship for over 20 years. They're virtually the same age (less than a year apart), and they met in their early 20s.

There are a ton of things that Octoboss really loves and values in him as a romantic partner.

1. First off, open communication! With their two-person flyer/driver teams, their sidecar/driver mine-planting teams, and so forth, the Mortiflyers are a group that's heavily centered around coordination and cooperation. It's only natural that the Octoboss would seek out a partner that values these traits, too. In their many years together, the Octoboss and his BF have always been open about their needs, plans, and expectations in the relationship. They've never been the type to let a misunderstanding fester and become resentment. When they have a disagreement, they find a private time and place to ask each other about it and hash it out calmly.

2. Second, Octoboss is a bit of a workaholic. He'll work himself to the bone to ensure that his family members (the Mortiflyers) are safe and happy, but sometimes he needs a break. Toley helps Octoboss in his duties, like keeping everyone fed, keeping their clothes and parachutes maintained, and managing resources for the team. This helps Octo relax more and be able to enjoy spending more quality time with his squad. This dates back to when Octo and Toley first met — Octoboss was a young adult with gaggle of future Mortifiers/Mortiflyers, many of whom were other orphans between the ages of 8-15. Octoboss had always wanted a family, but the obligations of being a parental figure were quickly becoming too strenuous for him. Toley also encourages Octoboss to rest and recuperate before he finds himself burnt out.

During this time of his life, Octoboss spotted a glider in the sky. He'd never seen a flying machine before, and he became quite fascinated with it. Part of him yearned for a life where he was free enough to hop on a glider and escape all his duties; the other part of him felt guilty for his fantasy of escaping his "familial duties," even if just for a few hours. But when he finally met Toley, the man on the glider, he found someone who actually wanted to help him and integrate into his family. Though Toley has his own trauma, stemming from being the sole survivor of a small tribe wiped out by raiders, he took a chance on life with the Mortifiers and ended up falling in love with their leader.

3. Third, they share plenty of similar interests and a matching sense of humor. Both love flight, and they've gone on plenty of flying dates (Both riding the Octobike or both riding the glider... Or riding their own vehicles and zipping around in the sky). They share a passion for engineering and work together to improve life and safety in Gastown, albeit marginally. Octoboss also loves his boyfriend's deadpan sense of humor — it's almost like Toley can read his mind and vocalize his snarky thoughts. And they also enjoy singing together while Octo plays his acoustic guitar around the campfire.

4. Anatole genuinely believes that Octoboss is a good person. Toley doesn't relish every duty he has to do for Octoboss — such as taking part in Octo's "interrogation sessions" with captives. However, he believes that even Octoboss' most heinous acts are rooted in love for the family and a desire to serve them.

5. Octoboss' lover has a much more optimistic outlook on life than he does, which balances out the more cynical aspects of his personality. When Octoboss mentally goes down a rabbit hole or starts doom spiraling, his partner hears him out and helps reassure him — and gives him some perspective to help bring him down to earth. He's also helped to give Octoboss a healthier outlook on his day-to-day life.

6. They're not competitive with each other. Octoboss may be playfully competitive with some of his loved ones, but he just doesn't have that dynamic with Anatole. If they played mini golf together, they'd be helping each other line up shots and giggling at each other's fumbles. They probably wouldn't even keep score.

7. Vaguely NSFW? They're an asexual couple, so not really NSFW, but kind of into kink territory. Octoboss is very into praising and protecting his partner. His bf is ABSOLUTELY his princess. He loves to shower him with affection, gifts, praise, massages, the whole nine yards. They also bathe together and tend to one another's wounds, both enjoying the closeness and intimacy this brings.

8. And of course, they have well-matched needs when it comes to physical intimacy. He might not look like the cuddliest guy around, but Octoboss needs snuggles like they're water. Octoboss also tends to get a bit cold during those desert nights, but fortunately, Toley is there to cuddle him and keep him cozy. His partner is his warm, soft, safe haven in a harsh and cruel world.