#and that was blown out of the water HELP

[artilite]

thank you for all the love on my last post !!! reading what everyone had to say in the reblogs meant a lot <3

[watertribe-enya]

You know what I would have really appreciated in the conversation between Luz and the Titan? The Titan admitting that he did give Philip his three glyphs....out of pity.

Like the Collector just pointed out that the Titan only shares this knowledge with people he likes, and Luz beat herself up for so long for giving Philip the last of the glyphs, so why not ease her mind and connect Luz to the Titan by him pointing out that he made the same “mistake” as her. He saw a lost, scared teenager(?) in a strange land and didn’t want him to perish there. Only that, unlike Luz who was eager to learn, Philip didn’t want to understand and deepen his bond with the isles and had to be on the brink of death to even notice the glyphs (that’s why it took him so long to assemble them). And it wasn’t their fault that he misused their kind gifts afterwards

Also imagine:

Philip: Why is this evil world so eager to kill me? Why will no one help me in my time of need?

The Titan holding a neon sign pointing at a helpful glyph: Why you little...it’s right next to you!!!

[bell-swamp-fitzjames]

ok had to take my head phones and stop bc the song was too good i don't even know it. WHY AM I ONLY NOW GETTING HALFWAY ?? HEY ??

ranking of davechella events in my minds eye (id make this seperate posts but we are hitting limit today maybe WHY DID IT POST SO EARLY)

Gibson bc he was first and i really lost it that first time

Venus in furs tozer event

Blanky bc I cried a lot (not necessarily 100% bc of this tho I want this known)

Irving Sufjan Stevens lover confirmation

Im cutting myself off there bc i hate thinking of pitting my beloveds against each other. Each sunday & playlist has been so special and crazy in their own ways.

[oasisofgalaxies]

Ok but Austin did so good ?? During the show ?? I had no idea he could act it was like . I don’t know it was just really GOOD. His growing desperation was so convincing especially towards the end of the show . FUCKING amazing

[deadbaguette]

Someone help me I’m not normal

IM SO NORMAL

I’m gonna go insane

IM LITERALLY SO SANE WDYM

[nyenyel]

Please donate to Eslam family!

“My name is Eslam from Gaza, I’m 29 years old, and I’m a children teacher from Khan Yunis in the Gaza Strip. a mother of two daughters, Hanaa 5 years old, and Alma, 10 months old. My husband Rasmi is the director of 3 language and training centers. In this war, our house was completely destroyed and razed to the ground, and my husband’s centers were blown up. He lost his job, and we were completely displaced, and we are now homeless and jobless, My two young daughters constantly suffer from diseases due to malnutrition and water pollution.

Danger and death surround us all day and all night. We have lost everything and depend on donations to survive and, most of all, to have any hope of escaping this genocide and evacuating to safety in Egypt. The cost of daily living continues to rise significantly in Gaza - imagine that we cannot find the type of milk for our daughter because of its high price. There is no kind of detergent and this is the cause of skin diseases for my two little girls. We bought a piece of soap for $30! ، and detergent is 100$"

As of 8:46pm November 11, 2024 (GMT+8) $31,955 raised out of $50,000

vetted: bees and watermelon spreadsheet #175

@eslamfa9 @eslamfa8

[fuckingrecipes]

I'm trying to make a good pot roast in my crockpot, but after I take it out it gets dry. It's on "low" (whatever that means) for 8 hours. I've tried searing it before and still dry. It's submerged in plain water with some herbs and spices for that time. Am I over/undercooking it? It's a cut with low fat %, is that why?

I love you. I think you learned how to make pot roast from someone on Opposite Day, or perhaps April 1st. The only thing you got right is 'low heat for 8 hours'.

Choose a fatty cut of tough meat. Look for lots of fat marbling on a Chuck roast or Shoulder roast. Tough meat has a ton of flavor, and the fat keeps the meat from drying out. The long cook time on low heat, plus acids will make 'tough' meat into a pull-apart, melt-in-your-mouth glory.

Make sure the meat is completely thawed, NOT frozen.

Plain water and nothing else except herbs/spices is.... not what I'd do. A lot of flavor can come into the broth when you add whole carrots (minus the carrot top!) and quartered onions in there. I'm a fan of adding some big chunks of pumpkin or butternut squash and chunks of turnip as well.

I think using red wine for part of the liquid base, and adding a hearty helping of worcestershire sauce will also help the flavor and making the meat 'melty.' The acid and alcohol will draw more, and different flavors from the meat and vegetables that water alone cannot do. Makes it richer.

For my very best pot roast recipe, which had my wedding guests fuckin' clamoring to get the recipe; I cheat. I'm not ashamed of that fact. For the richest, most face-punchingly meaty tasting broth, go to an asian market (or online) and find a mushroom hot pot soup base. It'll be a thick liquid inside a bag, which you then dilute with water. Use THAT as the liquid base (remember to dilute it!), and add your wine and wocestershire sauce to it, along with those herbs & spices. Your whole face will be blown off with flavor. It's the best.

[stainedglassvariations]

Morning Showers

Non-sexual intimacy, sharing an early morning shower, GN!MC

Zayne doesn’t flinch when he hears you opening the shower door, already pressing himself into the corner so you have room to wriggle inside. His shower is really too small for this, but he can’t find it in him to care when you press yourself to his front; eyes still shut from the early hour. In a minute or two, you’ll start to wake up, insisting on lathering his hair if only for the simple amusement of styling it up, and he’ll run the loofa down your soft back after. When you get out, he’ll step aside so you can do your skin care, and you’ll tell him which tie he should wear while watching him through the mirror. Your little morning ritual ends with lips against his cheek, drops of water dripping down onto his collar, and the rest of the day seems to go by just a bit faster.

Xavier is the one to follow you in, his arms around your waist as he sleepily follows you through the apartment. You help him pull his sleep shirt over his head, let him hold onto you as he steps out of his sweats and boxers, and brace his weight against your back as you adjust the water to the perfect temperature. When you step into the water, you have the showerhead angled so he can rest his cheek on your shoulder without being drowned. You always wind up a little late to work on these mornings as you spend most of the time running your hands up and down the length of his spine. 

Rafayel badgers you into it at first, but now you can’t imagine a week without at least one morning spent in his ridiculous walk-in shower. He plasters himself against you, complaining about the water temperature but never re-adjusting the knobs, and demands that you wash his hair. In retaliation, you steal away with a bottle of his expensive body wash as if you don’t see the grin that stretches across his face when he smells it on you three days later. The mornings you shower together are playful and sweet, with soap bubbles being blown and water flicked into each other’s faces. By the time you get out, you’re pruned and slightly overheated while he looks unfairly refreshed and moisturized. 

Sylus carries you in on the mornings you have no desire to get out of bed. His hands are gentle as they take off your clothes, big palms keeping you warm against the early morning chill. He sits you between his legs, moving the showerhead over your body before getting a nice lather with the bodywash he made you pick out weeks before. You almost fall back asleep leaning against his thigh while he massages your shoulders, barely aware when he reaches down to lift you back up against him so he can wash your legs. The robe he wraps you in after he’s done is sinfully soft, warmed on the heated towel rack, and you’re reluctant to leave when your alarm shatters the morning peace. Thinking back on it once the haze of sleep clears, you think that may have been the entire point.

Caleb is too big for you two to be sharing the shower in your apartment, but that doesn’t stop you from squeezing into what little space is left. He laughs when he feels your arms around his waist, cheekily asking if you have room to breathe back there, but his hands hold fast to yours as if afraid you’ll slink away. You respond with a light nip to his shoulder and demand the hot water to be made even hotter. Underneath the spray, the two of you talk about anything and everything, making plans for the coming days you’re together. When it’s time to rinse the suds off, it’s a careful dance to get beneath the showerhead without knocking anything off the walls. After, the two of you fight for space in front of the mirror like when you were teens. It ends with you warning Caleb not to get toothpaste in your hair as he brushes his teeth over your head, you tucked against his bare chest.

[yeahwellyourface]

You know who I do feel bad for in all this?

The person who turned Luigi in. I don't agree with what they did, but I get it. If they are working for McDonald's, they are probably at minimum wage. Full time (which they probably weren't, cause fuck McDonalds probably doesnt want to have to give benefits)yearly pay for min wage is $15,000. The rewards together were $60,000.

Can you imagine how much that would change their life? FOUR TIMES their yearly wage. I am so incredibly privileged in comparison, but four times my yearly wage would change so many things for me.

You think about your family, and how much that could help. You think about your living situation. You think about rent and food prices and a vehicle. All of that would be so much easier, even for a little bit of time.

And then to find out that you probably won't get the money on technicalities. And if you do, you definitely won't get all of it. And even then, it will take at least a year.

Being told that you would get something that would change your life, the life of your children, and it's bullshit. Yet another reason you can't trust the cops.

And it also shows another way that authorities are so fucking stupid about this whole thing. Any trust people had in them is being blown out of the water. It is so incredibly clear the difference in ways people are treated. Children are being killed in school and nothing, but one CEO gets shot and it's considered terrorism. A CEO who profited off the deaths of thousands. But that person is more important than all us regular people. And now this reward BS. Do they actually think ANYONE is gonna help them again after seeing how they are screwing this person over

And eric fucking adams being in that fucking perp walk. That bastard has spent the past several months talking "innocent until proven guilty" and "due process"...but only when it comes to committing his own crimes. Not someone else's where he can pretend that he is some sort of hero.

It is amazing how people who are in power and people who think thay they can gain power by protecting the rich are so out of touch.

[shouyuus]

18+, mdni, vi-shaped but what else is new

car mechanic!vi who's basically been working at her dad's autoshop hounds auto since she was like seven years old, running around handing vander the fuel pressure meter and fetching water, who grows up in the garage to the point that all vander's regulars know her by name and also all her favorite sweets (bc she DOES have a sweet tooth, despite her tomboy looks).

car mechanic!vi who's closet is exclusively stained gray tanktops, leather jackets gifted to her by all her dad's patrons, and old denim from thrift shops bc she likes how they feel worn in and also why bother getting "nice" clothes if they're just gonna get greased up anyway? who hums to herself when she's working, always has a cool beer chilling in the garage fridge and is doing her best to make sure she can send powder to caltech bc she knows her sister is a genius and is gonna be like a rocket scientist one day.

car mechanic!vi who laughs when you pull up one day with your 1960's cherry red corvette, climbing out of the driver's seat with your white fishnets and your pink croptop and your plaid miniskirt, your heart-shaped sunglasses propped on top of perfectly blown out bangs, and the only thing vi can think when she lands eyes on you is how much she'd enjoy taking you apart on the hood of your car, your thighs hiked onto her shoulders, your palm-prints inked into the bright red paint of your car.

car mechanic!vi who grins slow, slings a greasy towel on her shoulder as she comes out to greet you, hitching an eyebrow as you motion towards the car, your cheeks stained the most adorable shade of pink she's ever seen, saying --

"i think there's something wrong with it --" but when you purse your perfectly glossed, cherry-tinted lips, vi has to force herself not to lose focus because sweet baby jesus on a harley, that should be illegal.

"-- think you can help...?" you shuffle your feet, glancing at her even as she takes her time looking you over, doing nothing to hide the way her eyes rake over the length of your body and back up again.

"sure thing, sweets. mind if i pop the front?"

you swallow, nodding eagerly; vi doesn't miss the way your eyes linger on her arms and perhaps flexes harder than is absolutely necessary when opening up the front hood of the car.

car mechanic!vi who bends over to take a closer look and actually does miss the way you physically have to tear your eyes away from the bend of her ass, because holy shit? it does not help that vi shifts to lean further into the hood, a slip of skin peaking out from beneath her tanktop, and suddenly, there's a spring-water rush of blood behind your ears, threatening to drown out all other sound as she pulls back with a shrug.

"looks like the cooling system's busted," she says, scratching at the back of her neck, frowning as she looks back at you, "there's a couple things we can do --"

you swallow, "just a couple?" you ask, before you can stop yourself. you squeeze your eyes shut as the words leave your mouth. woops. fuck.

car mechanic!vi who blinks, cocking her head at you before a smirk teases across her lips. she leans back against the front of your car, crossing her arms loosely over her chest.

"yeah, for the car. but... dunno, if you wanna stick around for a bit, i can think of a ton more things we can do..."

you lick your lips, scuffing your mary janes against the cool pavement of her garage.

"define a bit... and also a ton..."

vi's grin is crooked; there's a fox-bright gleam in her eyes as she pushes off the car and makes her way towards you -- and for a moment, you can't help but wonder if she's a lamb in wolf's clothing, or perhaps (the thought singes a tantalizing line up your spine) just the damned wolf itself.

car mechanic!vi who tells you that for the car, she can either order all the parts that have suffered wear and tear, and then just replace them.

"issue with that is, in these older models, even with the parts replaced, it won't last you too long before you'll need them redone again."

"so..." you teeter, looking around at the various tools hung across the walls, every inch of space utilized to maximize efficiency, the high ceilings, the slow-turning fans, the propped up cars, some missing the front two wheels, some just a skeleton of mechanical parts.

"but lucky for you, one of my old man's pals just put a brand new crossflow radiator into his 1960's corvette, and he paid me to help him rig it. and i can do the same for you."

by the way vi smiles, it's obvious that this is the option she thinks you should go for. you blink.

"cross... flow... what?"

vi stares for a few seconds before letting out a startled laugh.

"wait -- i thought you said this was your car?"

you nod, fiddling with your hands behind your back.

"and... you've got no idea how to take care of a vintage car like this, do you?"

you shake your head, feeling a now-familiar heat prickling into your cheeks.

"my -- my dad got it for me for my 21st birthday..." you say, just on the other side of petulant.

car mechanic!vi who hums low in her throat and closes the distance between you in a few quick steps, a hand drifting up to trace along the line of our cheek.

"and you're just daddy's little princess, aren't you?" she asks, noticing with a dull ache in her belly, the way your breath hitches at the word princess.

she bites back another smirk as you bob your head once, your eyes flickering down to her lips before refocusing on her again.

"well..." she draws out the word, tugging back, a satisfied warmth pooling in her chest at the way your lips push out into perfect pout at her distance, "if you wanna give you daddy a call to ask what he might want..." she lets her words trail off. but you're already shaking your head, your eyes bright, your expression over-eager.

(she thinks you just might be the end of her; if she doesn't end you first.)

"no!" you squeak, "i -- i mean -- whatever you think is best --" you amend hurriedly, blushing something furious as vi leans back up against her workbench, her gaze locked on the shape of you, the hunger in her eyes now so evident that it sparks goosepimples down the lengths of your arms.

"yeah? you trust me that much, pretty girl?"

you nearly go into anaphylactic shock; your lashes flutter.

vi thinks she might honestly blow a fuse as you look shyly back at her, your gaze somehow both molten and hard.

"y-yeah. i do. i -- i trust you."

car mechanic!vi who wastes no time drawing up a plan for your repairs, but when you glance over the receipt, you notice that the number at the bottom is way, way too long, and you're fairly certain (even in your advanced stages of crush-induced lightheadedness) dollar amounts aren't usually broken up by dashes.

"is this... where i should send the payment?" you ask, holding up the handwritten receipt.

vi grins, tossing you a look over her shoulder as she steps out from behind the wheel of your car, now parked safely in her garage.

"nope. that's just my number."

"your..." you look back down at the scribbled series of digits. oh.

"so... are you gonna text me the final cost?"

vi chuckles, "sure, sweets -- if that's what you'd like. and if you're feelin' real frisky -- we can text about other stuff too."

your breath catches in your throat like thread around a barbed wire fence. you nearly drop the receipt.

"l-like what?" you ask.

"oh... i dunno..." vi says, the tease now obvious in her voice as she makes her way around the shop, gathering this tool and that, bending down to haul a massive toolbox from beneath a set of shelves. your mouth physically waters at the flex in her biceps as she carries it all back over to her workbench.

"maybe about the kinda coffee you like," she says, leisurely, "or how you'd like your eggs in the morning."

car mechanic!vi who wastes no time in asking if you'd like to go out the next day, because as much as she really loves the thought of pinning you to the hood of your car right then and there, a part of her wants to do this properly. and, she muses, there's no better foreplay than sharing a banana split sundae with a pretty girl.

she sends you on your way with the receipt tucked into your miniature handbag ("what's that even hold anyway?" "uhm... my card wallet, the keys, and lip gloss!" "...ah. of course. all the most essential things.") and a promise to pick you up the following day, since your ride's temporarily out of commission ("don't worry, sweets, i'll take real good care of this baby right here." you immediately wonder if it's normal to feel jealous of a car).

and pick you up she does, at 6pm on the dot, in black pants so tight they might've been painted on, and a cropped leather jacket, though you hear her revving her motorbike a full 30 seconds before her text dings on your phone --

look outside, sweetness.

car mechanic!vi who is so polite to your rather bewildered parents, smiles wide and charming, easily slips into conversation with your dad about the vintage cars in his collection, calls your mom "m'aam" and compliments her pearl earrings, promises not to keep you out too late. so that by the time she tells you to swing onto the bike behind her, you're convinced that your parents might like her more than they like you.

"hold on tight, princess." is all she says before she rips off down the street of your cul de sac and you're yelping, burying your face in her back, the leather of her jacket butter-soft and warm against your skin.

car mechanic!vi who's just a bit too smug and more than a little smitten when she has to help you off her bike in the parking lot of the cute little retro-themed diner downtown, you shaking out your hair from the helmet she'd handed you, your cheeks painted sunset as she guides you into the restaurant with a palm at the small of your back.

who enjoys talking to you way too much, who wants to bottle up the sound of your laughter in one of those old fashioned coca-cola bottles, all sweet and bubbly, and save it for the summer afternoons when the air's thick enough to slick the skin, pop it open and pour it down her throat, swallow around the sound of you, giggling into the curly fries, debating with her about the perfect ketchup-to-mustard ratio for the most optimum fry-eating experience.

car mechanic!vi who tells you that the sundaes here are the best in town, and nearly melts at how bright your eyes get, how excited you look as you nod and flag down the waitress to order one.

"just one?" the waitress asks.

"trust me, one is more than enough," vi answers smoothly, shooting you a wink that might've induced heart failure in a weaker soul (and you truly do not think you're one of god's strongest soldiers bc you definitely had to take a mental breather after that).

but it turns out that she was quite right, because the banana split is huge. dauntingly-sized. and vi perhaps has too good of a time watching you gape over it (she's not at all thinking about how your cute lil mouth, so round now, would look stretched over her strap, not at all nope, nope, nope) before motioning for you to dig in.

car mechanic!vi who thinks, for the first time, that she might've bitten off more than she can chew (metaphorically, of course) when you cut off way too big of a bite, and white whipped cream smears across your lips as you struggle to get the whole thing in your mouth, your cheeks puffed out, lashes fluttering.

"careful there, sweets -- don't want you to hurt yourself," she says, in a decent stab at her usual suave tone, but her voice comes out just a bit hoarse as she reaches out to try and wipe some of the whipped cream from your lips at the exact moment your tongue flicks out to do the same --

her stomach clenches as your tongue accidently laves along the pad of her thumb and the dollop of cream drops onto the table between you.

"whoops," you say, your shoulders shrugging up as you finally swallow the bite of banana and cream, reaching for a napkin to wipe your mouth before dabbing at the tabletop.

when you glance up at vi, she's still staring, her expression strangely blank as you meet her eyes. but the second your gaze catches on hers, you see the way her pupils dilate, darkness eating into pre-dawn blue.

car mechanic!vi who tries her level best not to fidget too hard as the pair of you diligently make your way through as much of the sundae as possible, before you toss down your fork with a sigh, shaking your head.

"wow, i'm so full!"

"mm... could be fuller, i'm sure," vi murmurs into your ear, grinning when you shiver at the low sway of her voice, the gentle dance of her fingers on your waist.

"v-vi!" you squeak, even as she ushers you from the diner with a bright grin at the waitress, promising to come by again soon, and to send their love to her dad and younger sister.

and fuck, she really did think she wanted to take this slow, but holy shit, she can't wipe the image of you swallowing around the mouthful of cream from her mind, the feeling of your warm tongue as it'd flicked across the pad of her thumb.

"c'mon, sweet girl," she says, grazing her lips along the soft spot behind your ear and your knees almost buckle then and there, but her strong arm is looped around your waist as she helps you back onto her bike and cups your cheeks, "god, you have no idea what you do to me, huh?"

your breath hitches; what you do to her? what about what she does to you?

car mechanic!vi who can't help the way she presses in to kiss you, hesitating for a breath to ask can i? against your lips before you're nodding, just as eager as she is, and tugging her in to kiss her. you taste as sweet as she'd imagined (and lord, has she been imagining, even though it's been less than 24 hours), the lingering taste of whipped cream and chocolate syrup on your tongue as she licks hungrily into your mouth, moaning as you whimper, your thighs squeezing around her hips, your ass nearly slipping off the seat of her bike.

she hitches you back up without breaking the kiss, heat rolling up into her neck and shoulders as she feels your fingers twisting in her hair.

"f-fuck --" she pulls back breathless, her head spinning, her eyes caught on the press of your kiss-bruised lips, the way you purse them as you glance up at her, already looking so debauched she's tempted to pull you into the shadow of the diner and take you against the wall.

but, she falls half a step back and breathes, grinning crookedly as you pout at her.

"a-are you gonna take me back to your place, or not?".

car mechanic!vi who lets out a startled laugh and cocks her head, thinking that really there is a god, and that this -- just you, sitting on the black leather of her bike, your hair a bit mussed up, your cheeks flushed with color, asking her to take you to hers -- is all the proof she needs.

"you really are a spoiled little princess, aren't you?" she asks, swinging her leg over the bike seat and adjusting her grip. your arms loop around her middle and she tries not to groan at the feeling of your body pressing up against hers.

"well, daddy always told me that i shouldn't settle for anything less than the best," you say, and your voice would've been lofty, had it not been for the way you lean up to ghost your lips by the shell of vi's ear, chasing shivers down the length of her entire spine.

her stomach roils with heat. she turns to shoot you a smirk over her shoulder.

"well then. guess i'll just have to ruin you for every other girl who might come your way, huh?"

car mechanic!vi who definitely breaks the sound barrier tearing through the few streets separating the downtown strip and the auto shop, who's barely done parking the bike before she's pulling you bodily off the seat, hitching your legs around her waist and carrying you into the shop, slamming a hand on the switch to close the garage door.

she's already kissing you by the time she sets you on the hood of your car, the height of it perfect for her to pull back and pin you down by your wrists. she thinks that you have no business looking so perfect against the bright cherry of the paint, and grins as she looks you over, pressing a knee up between your legs just to hear your breath hitch and admire the way your cute little plaid skirt rides up.

car mechanic!vi who drops to her knees, pillows her cheek on your thigh and groans as she flips up the hem of your skirt to press her the flat of her tongue to the damp patch already soaking through your pink lace panties. who's mesmerized by the sight of you arching your back on the hood of your car, your fingers scrabbling at the smooth metal, reaching down till you can grip at her hair, your lips parting over your little whimpers and moans -- she thinks, faintly, that she wants to fuck you till your voice goes hoarse.

"vi -- what if -- is anyone -- ah --"

she can't help smiling at the way you can't quite get a full thought out, leaning back as she hooks her fingers around your panties and tugs them down your thighs till they're dangling off one of your delicate ankles.

"no one's here, sweetness -- so you can be as loud as you want," she says, reaching down to slick her fingers between your pussy, admiring the shine on her skin.

"b-but what if -- mmngh -- someone c-comes -- b-back --"

and it's cute, really, how worried you are about all of it, even as she teases a finger around your sodden hole, her thumb flicking up against your clit, making your body jerk up. she smiles, easing a finger in with a soft groan of her own, relishing the way you squeeze around her.

"mm, well -- let's see..." she says, her voice low and steady even as she tugs back her finger and pushes it in again, slow as anything, "my dad's out drinking at my uncle's bar across town, and my baby sister's at benzo's place with ekko --" she allows herself a crooked grin as you keen around her just as she presses a second finger into you, "they said they were studying but..." she shrugs, her eyes hooded as she watches you squirm beneath her, "i'm pretty sure they're hooking up so --" she runs a tight circle around your clit with her thumb, puffing out a breath as your thighs clamp shut around her wrist and she has to pry them back open with her other hand, pinning your knee to the hood of your car, keeping your other leg still with one of her's.

"the only person you gotta worry about coming... is yourself, princess."

car mechanic!vi who fucks you through two orgasms, eats you out for a third, before finally letting up and carrying you up to her bedroom above the auto shop, asking if you want to text your parents that you're staying the night.

you do, and vi only teases you a little bit about being such a good girl, but she lets you burrow in against her chest, lets you kiss her neck and tug her phone from her hands before planting one on her lips and trailing your way down her chest, tugging at her tanktop till she laughs and pulls it from her body.

car mechanic!vi who nearly loses her mind when you look up at her from between her legs, all wide eyes and parted lips, pressing your perfectly manicured nails into the corded muscles of her thighs and asking her in the sweetest voice to

"show me what you like -- please? i -- i wanna make you feel good too."

car mechanic!vi who fucks your face till both of you are breathless, her hips bucking up against your perfect mouth, her mind fizzling out at the edges at the way you're moaning into her cunt, the way you're grinding your hips down over nothing as she talks you through how to eat her out just the way she likes. who jerks you up and hauls you into her lap to kiss you sloppy, her fingers digging into the meat of your hips as she grinds you down over her still-throbbing clit, who fucking can't get over the sight of you riding her even as both of you tip into the realm of overstimulation, whining and keening and you collapsing onto her in the muted, twilight dark of her room.

"h-holy shit..."

vi laughs, "yeah. you can say that again."

you look up, a soft, pliant smile, "holy shit, violet..."

and the sound of her name on your lips convinces her, more than anything, that (contrary to all her big talk earlier), you're definitely the one who's ruined her for any other girl who might come her way.

car mechanic!vi who wakes up to your lips on hers, who groans into the taste of you, kissing you, rolling over to pin you beneath her even as the early morning sun spills lemon-bright and spring-water-sweet through her half-closed blinds.

"morning, princess," she mumbles against your lips.

"morning..." you giggle, gasping as she drops a tender kiss to your shoulder.

"sleep well?" she asks, trailing down the smooth skin of your chest till she can lave her tongue around your puffy nipple.

"mm --" you suck in a breath, "y-yeah -- had -- had good d-dreams -- a-ah!" you arch up into her, your body soft and warm as a daydream, and she just can't get enough.

"yeah? tell me... what'dyou dream of, hm?" vi asks, letting the world hum through her throat, rumbling over your skin like thunder across a distant horizon.

you twist your fingers into her hair, gently tracing the tattoo on her cheek before smiling down at her with a smile that looks like the shadow of the rest of her living days --

"i... i dreamt of you."

car mechanic!vi who comes downstairs to find vander in the kitchen, powder nowhere to be seen. but vander takes one look at her and grins, chuckling, rolling his eyes.

"alright then -- what's her name?"

she hesitates for a second before telling him.

"pretty name," vander muses, even as he tugs open the fridge to pull out a few eggs and a half-empty carton of milk. he pushes the milk towards vi with a pointed look.

"vander -- i -- i think she might be the one."

to which vander only laughs, cracking an egg with one hand into the oiled up pan. almost immediately, the egg whites begin to sizzle.

"this the girl with the cherry corvette?" he asks. wordlessly, vi nods. vander chuckles.

"good for you kiddo -- i always told you, haven't i?"

"that i'll know when it's the one? yeah... i -- i think i get it now." vi runs a hand through her bedridden hair, staring at the carton of milk and the ludicrously proportioned cartoon cow, advertising full fat contents within.

"well, as long as you're sure," vander says, cracking another egg, and another.

vi lets out a weak laugh, nodding as she opens the fridge to pull out some orange juice and a few boxes of blueberries.

"yeah. i'm sure."

vander nods, brows furrowing slightly as he flips the eggs with an expert twitch of the wrist.

"good. and -- how's she like her eggs done in the morning?" he asks, reaching over for a plate. vi stares at the over-easy eggs sliding from the old nonstick.

she lets out a tired little laugh, "probably like... poached, or something."

vander whistles, "got yourself a little diva, huh? well -- can't blame ya -- your uncle silco --"

"okay, thanks dad --" vi cuts him off with a deep groan, nudging him out of the way to place a small pot in the sink to fill with water.

vander chuckles, "you gonna introduce me when she comes down later?"

vi takes her time placing the pot on the stove and starting the heat.

"sure, yeah. i'll introduce her."

vander reaches over to ruffle vi's hair, cackling when she tries to duck out from beneath his massive hands.

"'m happy for you, violet."

vi stills, a helpless smile spreading across her lips like sun-warmed butter.

"yeah... me too." she says, "me too."

[nightmare-niko]

Blame It On The Rain [Nicholas Alexander Chavez x reader]

Word count: 855

Warnings: oral (m! receiving), rough sex, shower sex, once again completely self-indulgent

A/N: the obsession is going strong hehehe

Copying or translating my writing is not allowed. If you see my work on another site it is stolen. Reblogs are appreciated and encouraged.

Your boyfriend lay on your bed, scrolling away on his phone. Such a simple task, but he looks so damn good. You lean against the door frame, shamelessly watching your unsuspecting lover.

"Hey, Nick?" You call out innocently.

"Yes, baby?" He looks up from his phone.

"I'm gonna shower."

He looks at you, confused, “oookay..?”

"Join me.”

The corners of his mouth curled up into a mischievous smile, "you askin or tellin?"

You roll your eyes, “Meet me in the bathroom in two minutes!” you turn on your heels and head towards your bathroom.

”Or what?" He shouts, still in your room.

"Or you're not getting head for a month!" You close the bathroom door behind you.

You hastily drop your pants and turn on the warm shower water. You hear Nicholas fumbling around in your bedroom. and you're not surprised when he practically through the door.

"That was like twenty seconds dude,” You feign disappointment.

Nicholas just shrugs, taking off his shirt in one movement.

"The waters not even warm yet!"

"Don't care!" He pulls you in for a rough kiss, tongues fighting for dominance— not like you'd ever win.

You waste no time untying his sweatpants and pulling them down haphazardly. You go to pull down his underwear but are met with bare skin. You pause and pull away, you giggle as he chases your lips for more, “No underwear? what a slut!" You tease.

"Says the one who lured me in here just to fuck me,” he accuses.

You gasp and wrap your nimble fingers around his half-hard cock. "I didn't call you in here just fuck you!" You defend, running your thumb over his slit— he hisses.

”Why am I here then?” His voice is strained.

You hum, pretending to think deeply about his question. letting go of him you take a step back. He whines at the loss of contact, eyes trained on you as you remove your shirt and underwear.

Now, just as bare as him you step into the water stream. you sigh in delight as the waterfalls around you.

Nicholas steps in behind you, “Baby this water is boiling!”

You chuckle and turn around to change the water temperature for him. With for back facing him he wastes no time landing a loud “thwack” on your bare ass.

“Ow!! Nick what the hell!”

“I'm sorry I couldn't help myself!!”

“I'll remember that,” you warn as you pull him closer to you by his waist. “You're so hot,” you playfully bite his chest.

“So are you~” he runs his fingers into your hair and tugs your face up towards him, capturing you in another breathtaking kiss.

His now fully hard cock pressed in between your torsos. Backing up, he pulls you with him until his back meets the shower wall. You recapture his lips in a searing kiss, your greedy hands roaming and feeling his toned body.

You part briefly for air, the both of you breathing heavily. Nicholas’ eyes are deep with desire as he trails kisses along your jaw down to your neck. A soft moan escapes your lips.

As much as you wanted to lose yourself in the feeling of your boyfriend— you had brought him here for a reason. “Let me take care of you,” you offer— pulling back from his grasp.

He looks at you for a moment— pupils blown out in his eager eyes.

He moans pathetically when you finally sink to your knees. “Use me,” you mutter.

“W-what?”

“I want you,” you wrap your hands around the base of his shaft. “To use me,” you kiss up the sides until you reach the tip.

‘A-Are you sure?? I don't want to hurt you!”

“Nicholas,” you state flatly. “I want you to fuck my face. Now.”

He growls, gripping your hair tightly. This is what you've been waiting for!

“Tongue. out,” he demands, you stick out your tongue obediently.

He slaps his red leaking tip on it with his free hand before he presses you all the way down his shaft. He throws his head back and it thumps against the wall behind him as a moan rips through him.

“fuck—” he curses, as he begins his steady rhythm fucking into your mouth.

You run your manicured nails along his toned thighs, leaving red scratches in their wake.

You can feel his cock twitch deep in your throat.

You look up at him through your eyelashes— you moan at his fucked out state. The vibration sends him over the edge as he pulls out of your mouth. The string of saliva connecting your tongue and his tip is downright pornographic. Hot ropes of white cum fall on your face and tongue as your boyfriend shouts obscenities from above you.

You rise from your position on the bathtub floor. You reach up and pull Nicholas down for one final kiss— He whines as he tastes himself on your lips.

You pull away, dopey grin on both of your faces. “See now— that. Is why I called you here.”

Tag list (If you want to be added just comment!)

@Nallasstuff @chmpgneprblem @qoopeeya @lilybellalana @sleepysongbirdsings

[poguelandiarafe]

showered in secrets | drew starkey

pairings - drew starkey x secretgf!reader

warnings - smut, unprotected sex (p in v)

summary - you and drew are in a secret relationship. or at least it’s a secret until drew forgets it is and follows you into the shower, prompting madelyn to interrogate you as to what he was doing.

masterlist

--------

the house is buzzing with excitement, the kind that only comes from the anticipation of a night out with your closest friends. you, along with drew, madison, jonathan and chase have decided to get ready at madelyn's house and have some drinks there before going out.

you're always at her house due to living close by and she always jokes about how you may as well move in from how often you're there, even to the point of having your own drawer full of clothes, shower stuff and a spare toothbrush. it's perfect for an impromptu sleepover.

"mads, can i use your shower please?" you ask, already going to grab your stuff.

"course, you know where it is." she replies, flashing you a smile.

you grab your stuff and a fresh towel and disappear into the bathroom. the sound of the shower running fills the bathroom as you step in, taking a minute to relax in the hot water. you're wrapped in your thoughts, unaware of drew letting himself in and calling out madelyn's name when he's met with a seemingly empty apartment.

----

meanwhile, drew is looking for you, a frown on his face when he sees you're not in the kitchen or living room. his frown deepens when he sees you're also not in madelyn's room while she's doing her hair.

"hey, is y/n here yet? thought she'd have been the first one here. not me." he asks, leaning against the doorframe.

"she was actually," madelyn laughs, curling the last piece of hair, "she's just in the shower."

"oh, thanks." drew smiles, already making a beeline for the bathroom before he has a chance to realise what he's doing.

"drew?" she says, but he's already gone, "she's showering!"

his brows furrow in confusion, wondering why that was an issue, forgetting your relationship was a secret, "yeah, i know!"

stepping into the bathroom, the steam surrounds him and he takes a few seconds to stare at you, not having noticed he's in there.

"you should lock the door you know." he smirks, leaning against the door.

his voice snaps you out of your thoughts and you spin around, eyes widening in realisation that he might've just blown your relationship.

"what are you doing in here?" you hiss.

his smirk falters once the realisation seems to register and you watch as his eye widen, mouth opening to say something but nothing comes out.

"oh my god, drew." you groan, a sigh leaving your lips.

"shit." he chuckles awkwardly, "i asked madelyn where you were and she told me you were showering and well, i've never really not thought about joining you in the shower and i didn't realise and i'm so sorry i-"

"come here, stop rambling." you cut him off, reaching a hand out with a soft smile on your face.

stepping towards you, he grabs your hand and places a gentle kiss on your knuckles. your heart melts at the way he's looking at you and you can't help but lean forward and cup his jaw to bring him into a soft kiss.

"are you mad at me?" drew asks.

"no, but you have to sometimes think before following me into the shower."

his smirk returns and there's a playful glint in his eye, "i do think about it. that's why i always end up in the shower with you."

you roll your eyes but don't stop the giggle escaping your lips, "you're impossible."

drew hums in response before letting go of your hand and pulling his shirt over his head wanting to join you. you go to tell him it's a bad idea but he's already kicking away his trousers and boxers and stepping in, his tall frame towering over you.

"you know, i don't think mads would appreciate if we fucked in her shower." you mumble, but a smile tugs at your lips regardless, arms wrapping around his neck.

"hey, i said nothing about fucking," he leans closer, arms sliding around your waist, and whispers, "but i reckon we have at least a bit of time before she gets too suspicious, don't you?"

you scoff, shaking your head from his boldness, "you're a bad influence, drew."

"yet you still love me." he mumbles, starting to kiss your shoulder, trailing up to your neck.

"course i do," you reply with a genuine smile, "always going to."

drew smiles against your skin and playfully bites at your neck, teasing you. you're so close to giving in, enjoying the feeling of his lips on your skin and large hands gripping your hips to keep you in place. glancing at the door, you bite your lip, contemplating, knowing your friends might be just down the hall by now.

"fuck it."

pulling his face from your neck, you stand on your tiptoes and capture his lips in a heavy kiss. he reacts instantly, walking you a few steps backward until your back is pressed against the cool tiled wall. the kiss is intense, messy, desperate, making you forget all about the fact your friends are probably wondering where you two are.

he pulls back, breathless, "gotta be quick."

rolling your eyes, you tease, "wow, romantic."

"shut up." he murmurs, but there's no malice in his words, "don't have time for foreplay baby, you gonna be okay?"

"mhmm, i'll be fine."

drew's arms encircle your waist again and lift you up, letting your legs wrap around him. your fingers play with the hair at the nape of his neck and you look down in between your bodies, watching as he strokes himself a few times.

"ready?" he asks, noticing the way your breath hitches when he positions himself at your entrance.

"yeah."

he pushes forward, both of you letting out a low groan at the feeling. the stretch is teetering on the edge between pain and pleasure, your jaw dropping in a silent moan. slowly, he continues to fill you until he's bottomed out, patiently waiting for you to tell him to move.

"shit," he moans when your pussy clenches around his length, "feel so good baby, so tight."

"move." you breathe out, head lolling forward to rest on his shoulder.

the sound of skin slapping soon fills the small bathroom and you can't help but bite down on drew's shoulder to silence the moans threatening to escape.

"look at me," he demands, forcing you to lift your head and look at him, "you okay?"

"harder," you beg, pulling slightly at his hair, "please."

immediately, he complies, thrusting deeper and harder than before. you don't even realise how loud you're being until drew's lips are back on yours in an attempt to silence you.

you throw your head back when a particularly harsh thrust hits your g-spot perfectly and drew takes the opportunity to slide a hand down to rub circles on your clit.

"c-close." you whine, squirming in his arms due to your high quickly approaching.

as much as he loves to hear every moan and noise he can draw out of you, there's not a chance your relationship has the chance to stay a secret if he doesn't cover your mouth when you cum. so, he tells you to take over rubbing your clit and his hand covers your mouth instead, knowing any second now your high would hit you.

"cum for me y/n." he encourages, "come on pretty girl."

seconds later, your back is arching off the wall into his chest as your orgasm rips through you. his hips stutter, the feeling of your pussy clenching around him triggering his own orgasm.

"fuck, fuck, fuck." drew moans, his cum shooting into you.

his hand drops from your mouth, uncovering your giddy smile. you don't know how he still has the strength to hold you up, so you press a quick kiss to his lips and let him set you down, though your legs still feel like jelly.

"i love you." he mumbles, hands squeezing your hips as if emphasising his point.

"i love you too. think anyone heard us?" you question, grabbing your shampoo bottle, since you do still need to properly shower.

"probably."

----

ten minutes later, you're standing in front of the mirror staring at a faint hickey that's starting to form on your neck. clearly, your 'no visible marks' rule has gone out the window. you'd kicked drew out before getting on with washing your hair, not needing any more distractions. but now you wished you hadn't purely to get the chance to scold him for leaving a mark.

a voice brings you back to reality, "y/n? you out the shower? i need to pee."

it's madelyn.

"uh, yeah hold on!" you call back, readjusting your top and sorting out your hair, attempting to cover the mark.

when you open the door, she stands there, arms crossed. she's looking over you as if she knows something but can't quite figure out what.

then she spots it. what you thought was a faint mark turns out to be getting darker the more time passes. she decides not to bring it up though, wanting to see what you'll admit to her first.

"thought you needed to pee?"

"not anymore," madelyn replied, stepping into the bathroom and closing the door behind her, "took you ages in the shower, you shaving your legs or something?"

you narrow your eyes at her, trying to figure out if she's being genuine or if she knows something. normally, she's easy to read, but now you don't know.

"just wanted to relax before the chaos hits soon." you gulp when she asks the next question.

"any idea why drew's hair was dry when he got here and it's now wet? or why he seemed to disappear for twenty minutes?"

your stomach flips and you can hear your heartbeat in your ears. pathetic excuses fill your mind, excuses you know she'll never buy in a million years and you don't know what to say.

"what? how would i know? why're you asking me?" you laugh dryly.

"cause i know he had the whole 'greasy bangs' phase but i know drew enough to know he'd never be seen in public wearing this much hair gel and i don't have some luxurious pool he could've been using while i was finishing my hair."

"maybe he just... i don't know, splashed some water on his face or something?" you stammer, avoiding her gaze.

"okay, now i know you're lying. spill, i know something's going on with you two." madelyn smirks.

you sigh in defeat, "fine, but you can not say a word to anyone. i mean it."

her eyes light up and she nods quickly, "i promise. not a word. please tell me!"

you look between the door and her for a few seconds, thinking over the pros and cons, but she's your best friend. you have to tell her.

"i-uh, okay. me and drew are together. and not in a 'friends with benefits' kind of way. like, we're dating, have been for about four months," madelyn's jaw dropped, her hand covering her mouth, "but it's a secret so please don't mention it to anyone later. you're the only one that knows."

"oh my god, i knew it. you're so cute together." she squeals, hugging you.

"keep your voice down!" you whisper-shout but return her hug nonetheless.

"i want details later." she pleads.

"yes boss."

"also, i know you guys totally just had sex in the shower. i don't care, but if you don't want anyone to find out, cover the hickey. the hickey makes it so obvious." she winks at you before leaving the bathroom.

yeah, you definitely need to cover that.

[screampied]

✧ ⁺˳ cw. fem! reader, vampire toji, unprotected, cowgirl, biting, whiny toji, breeding, mdni.

vampire toji can’t help but bite deep into your neck while you’re aligning yourself on his cock. he’s needy, sharp keen fangs ready to dig deep into your skin and relish in your sweet forbidden taste. “fuck,” he snarls, briefly tossing his head back as a darkened leather cloak sticks against his skin. he’s hot, but with your body glued against him he’d even hotter. his hair’s all matted and in his face, a mere wolf cut - it’s pretty, bangs of sable-dark strands run down his face as he chews onto his lip. “c’mon, hurry up. ‘s gettin’ close.”

and part of that was true—he was never one to last long, especially because of how overly sensitive he always was. you’re softly jerking your hips forward with his mushroom tip kissing up against your drooling opening before he grunts. “mhm, curses. y- y’er killin’ me, princess.”

you were so wet. he felt it, the sobbing squelches that screech from your cunt made his mouth water. he was enthralled, bringing two large hands to grip against your hips. “toji, relax,” you tease, brushing a thumb against his fang that stuck out his lip. he collapses back against his rocking chair, feeling a surge of shockwaves pulse through him. the vampire grows quiet, hearing the harmony of your heat swallow him whole. “that’s it baby, relax,” and his bottom lip quivers at your praise. he can’t help but bury his face back into the crook of your neck, seeping honed fangs into your skin. the gentle nips and pokes make you giggle, but your giggle forms into a lewd moan once you feel his hardened dick prod against your heat thrice.

“tch, don’t call me that, human.” he scoffs, a flush growing against his face — he’s still got you in a tight secure hold, steadying your rocking hips. toji has a soft pout before your hands cup his face. he’s so weak, weak for your cunt and even more weak for you.

you feel the sharp edges of his fangs playfully pull at a nice amount of flesh, gently pursing his lips around your collarbone before he starts to suck.

“thaaaat’s it, good ‘toj,” you murmur, concealing an incoming moan. piercing both of your knees into his beefed thighs, toji groans. a soft whine rips straight out of his throat as you start to rock. your hips were deadly, the tempo you had was almost brutal. he feels as if his body was on fire. toji squeezes his eyes shut as he feels the grip of your soddened wet cunt. “good boy, good.”

“f- fuck,” he hisses, pointed overgrown fingernails clawing at your skin.

he’s gentle but he can’t help but carve a few marks near your skin. just a bit. toji was already feral — his heavy cock was continuously punctuating its hits within every few thrusts as you slam back down against his lap. he’s dizzy, blurbs of whimpers spewing from his spit-glossed lips before he growls. “ugh, you got some nerve callin’ me a ‘good boy’ you b- brat.”

you hum, wisping a few fingers through his unkempt black strands before kissing his chin. “aw, does the vampire not like to get praised?”

he feels his body temperature arise at your words. you meet his gaze and his dead dark irises were dilated and blown. he’s so infatuated, of course he lived off of your praises. the last time you told him how good he was making you feel, he came right through his pants. embarrassing, he knew it was embarrassing but with you—he just couldn’t help it. he lets off an annoyed grunt as his teeth attach to your neck, allowing your irony flavor to trickle into his mouth as you continue to grind against him.

his balls were swollen. he was already preparing himself for when it was about to come. it was inevitable. toji swallows thickly, watching with hooded eyes as you throw your arms over his shoulders.

“no?” you purr at him diving your question, skimming a thumb over the sharp pointed lobes of his ears. the base of his cock was a tannish color but a creamy flush of pink pours over it after a while. your voice was so pretty, having his ears twitch at every word you pronounced. he avoids your gaze, deepening his gentle chomp into your neck before flicking his tongue against your skin. his favorite treat.

“p- princess,” he growls in a gruff tone, clenching his jaw. with each crazed bounce, his ears fill with more repetitive ringing. he was so sensitive, especially like this—underneath you, manspread and beads of sweat racing down his forehead. toji’s head throws back again, and this time, his mouth pries itself open, jaw hanging out. “gonna cum, ngh, ‘m gonna cum again.”

you plant a few kisses near his chin— specifically attacking his little scar that slants itself right down the right side of his mouth.

his lip curls and twitches and he feels you suck him in oh so good. toji’s throat grows dry - he tries to swallow but he can’t, your hips were no match for him. “oh, that’s too bad,” and you cup his face again, gingerly placing your lips against his trembled ones. he’s so pussy drunk that he could barely return the kiss—instead, he just moans right into your mouth. cooing against his lips, you stroke a thumb against his cheek before whispering. “you said you could last a little longer this time, baby.”

toji groans at the way your ass rudely jerks against him. it was so sloppy, he heard it all. it was so salacious that he grips your hips and runs his fingers against your rear as if it was perfectly shaped. “i- i can,” he grunts, dark brows contorting together in frustration. a lump forms its way to the back of his throat before his eyes roll back. he looked so pretty - so determined.

but he couldn’t — he knew he couldn’t.

because not even seconds later, he’s shootings blanks, cumming right inside of you. a hot satiny load shoots into you raw and at the same time, he bites into your flesh again.

candy sweet muffled sobs of moans pierce into your skin as you’re rutting back and forth against him but bringing your hips to a slow stop. he’s so whiny, hot pants of breath wafting against your bare skin. you smell so good, it’s making his head spin and his ears burn a scorching hot. toji gifts a nice amount of sweltering hot cum to you and it’s so much. it’s overflowing your pussy and you let off a soft gasp. “so messy,” you huff, glancing up to see his droopy eyed expression. toji’s still got two hands glued onto you before he groans hoarsely, clammy hands clinging onto your ass tightly.

you wring him dry and he’s entirely speechless. creating a wet sucking noise once he finally departs his mouth away from your neck. your warmth inside has him by a leash, his brows remain to arch together before the vampire stares at the mess he created. it’s spilling right out of you due to how much, wads and wads of stringy ropes dribble from your swollen opening to between your thighs and he whines. “ngh, s- so much,” and he drags a calloused thumb to swipe up a nice decent amount, eyeing it carefully. you watch as he pants, bedaubing his own cum right back against your slit and he’s got the most cutest pout, licking his lips as if preparing to feast. you wanted to kiss his pout off of him, but right when toji was about to get a taste for himself, you grab his wrist.

“no, toji,” you hum, watching his eyes shoot daggers at you. even he couldn’t maintain his angered expression for long because you were still playfully moving your hips around him, swerving whilst his now flaccid cock remains still inside. toji was a mess, his left thigh briefly starts to bounce, begging and pleading for you to start up your bouncing again. as his crooked pouty lips shine with glimmer, his fang pokes out again before you lean up against him, going right toward his ear. “not yet. you’re supposed to ask to touch yourself, remember?”

he scoffs. the audacity, you felt him tremor from underneath you and the way your clingy walls hugged him tight like a vice. you were ravaged, feeling his blushing tip keep your insides warm through each second. slump back against his chair, he huffs. “yes, fine,” and his hands grab against your waist. “n- now finish riding me or else,”

and he can’t even keep a straight face—because he lets off a grumble under his breath, a flush painting his face with his head down. “. . . please mistress.”

[seeliemansi]

Mr. Crawling hated Bath Time and Showers

Warnings: 18+, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, hint of SMUT, ghost revenge. It's not that bad.

my first post was flagged. dunno if it was reported but seriously?

🧼

No thoughts but forcing Mr. Crawling to take a shower. He has been crawling around since you met him and you have noticed his dirty and tattered clothes. There wasn't a problem when you two were still in that old abandoned building. But in your apartment? Being unclean is a no go. Just like a dog who hates baths, Mr. Crawling hated the idea to the point that he refused to go out of your closet. He had been repeating the same words as you try to pry the doors open.

"You not love me?" "Why bath?" "Not love me that's why bath?" "I like you but you not like me."

You admit it was kind of adorable. It was the same when he panicked when asked if he wanted his hair to be cut short.

You are getting out of nowhere and so with a promise, you told him that he can ask you of anything if he takes a shower. Just like offering a dog a treat during training. It took a lot of reassurance, but in the end, he allowed himself to bathe. If it was that easy.

And just like a vengeful dog that shakes its fur, to spray the excess water on its owner - Mr Crawling did the same.

He flinches, and he jerks, splashing water all over your already small bathroom. And ultimately drenched you, when he strongly pulled you down with him after he freaked out when the hot water turned cold because he was taking too long. You have no choice but to take a shower as well or you'll get a cold.

You can't help the tick of annoyance when he sighs in content as you help dry his hair. His head is on your lap, and he seems refreshed and peaceful. If he wasn't so cute, you will probably get back at him. But he looks so clean, comfortable, and glowing with happiness.

Maybe next time.

Showers always make you feel drowsy. You blink slowly and feel relaxed as he looks up with a wide grin. You can't help but give him a peck on the lips and kiss on his forehead. Such a good boy.

You chuckle when you hear his infamous giggle. You were about to continue drying his hair when he quickly moved, grabbed your shoulders and forcefully pushed you down the couch.

"Done! Me treat!" He declared.

"What?"

He didn't even give you enough time to think when he suddenly held both of your legs and pulled you closer to him. You remind yourself to apologize to the neighbors if they complain about the noise.

He didn't even give you enough time to raise yourself using your elbow, when he raised both your legs up, put it on his shoulder, and giggled as he was face to face with your clothed core. You can feel his hot breath and you gasped when he sniffed you down there. His giggles reverberate as he teases you with an experimental lick.

"Shower here too. Wet."

Is all you remember him say as you felt a full blown shiver of want from your head to your toes. It will be a long night for sure.

He may be cute but Mr. Crawling can be extremely vengeful because you had a hard time walking the next day. He made sure that it wasn't only him who would crawl around. And weirdly enough, after that, he was the one who reminded you that he needed a shower.

[vmpireslut]

glasses. thinking about loser! choso who begsssss you to ride his face while he wears his glasses. nsfw bc im a freak, face ridin’, bj, public sex, sub!choso. drabble. minors do not interact!

loser!choso whom everyone labeled as weird. he often exhibited awkwardness, frequently stumbling over his words and never truly finding his place among his peers. the students on the rather small campus often speculated about how he had managed to win your affection, ultimately attributing it to financial means. they found it difficult to believe that someone like choso kamo could be with someone like you without some form of concealed advantage.

choso’s awkwardness was often the subject of whispers and jokes, but you saw past all of that. you saw the kindness in his heart, the way he would go out of his way to help others, even if it meant making a fool of himself. you appreciated his genuine nature, his ability to make you laugh, and the way he looked at you as if you were the most precious thing in the world.

choso was also great in bed. shockingly so. at first you could barely believe how great it was, how great he was. you didn't know how to explain it, but you couldn't get enough of it.

“oh cho,” soft moans continuously bubble from your raw throat, hands shakily pulling against dark roots as you glide swollen lips across his face. clammy fingers grip into your plush thighs, pulling you harder against his mouth as he sucks on your clit, his nose digging into your slick folds, tongue hungrily lapping. “feels so good,” your head hangs low as you bite your lips, a poor attempt to stifle your whines in the back of the library.

he loves the way the rims press into the sides of his face and dig into the bridge of his nose with each roll of your thick hips. his face soaked, your wetness covering his chin. his glasses foggy, yet his eyes never leave yours. he watches you come undone above him, his cock achingly hard. his mouth watering as he licks his lips clean of you.

still quivering, you slide off of him, kneeling on the floor. effortlessly your fingers pull him through the zipper of his jeans. he gasps when you grab his base, and begin stroking him. his breaths are ragged, back arching, hand fisting his backpack beside him as he bucks his hips into your warm palm. “m’not gonna last i-i-fuckkkk.” you’ve barely touched the man and he’s already falling apart. sweat beading down his forehead despite the temperature in the old building being a cool seventy.

he pulsates, pre cum oozing out of his slit and dribbling down his pretty shaft, coating your fingers. “it’s okay baby boy.” you hum softly pressing a kiss to the tip, swiping your tongue along the head, tasting him. a long drawn out whine has him clamping his hands over his mouth, hips stuttering.

“oh my god, oh my god.” he’s an incoherent mess as you slowly take him in your mouth, inch by inch, until you can feel him hitting the back of your throat. choso is huge, the thickest you had ever had and it was always a struggle to take him fully.

he grunts as you start bobbing your head up and down, his head thrown back and his toes curling in his vans. you hollow your cheeks, sucking him, stroking his base, using your spit as lube to slick him up. he’s close, you can tell by the way his hips are thrusting lazily into your mouth. his thighs tense and his balls tightening. you continued your ministrations, your free hand cupping and rolling his heavy sack, squeezing him.

“love you s’much!” his hands pull gently on your hair, tugging you off him as his release spurts all over his chest. you pant, your glossy eyes wide and your pupils blown, hand steadily pumping him through his orgasm. “that’s it sweet boy, let it out.”

he’s seeing white as his head tilts forward. he watches with a gulp as you run your finger along his cum covered chest, scooping some of his release and pushing it past your lips, licking it off your fingers. he can’t help the blush that paints his cheek and you chuckle, tucking him back into his pants with a forehead kiss.

loser!choso, who really loves his girlfriend and also really needs a new shirt.

𝑅𝒮𝐸𝒫𝐸𝒯𝒜𝐿𝒮 all rights reserved. comments, reblogs and likes are highly appreciated ♡︎

[solxamber]

Waaaah Cuteness aggression was so cool! Could you make a part 2 with Malleus, Rook, Lilia and Jamil? Thos Boys deserve all the love there is and I think the scenario would be funny. xD

Hope ur well and drink some water 💕

Cuteness Agression with: Malleus, Rook, Lilia, Jamil, Riddle, Leona

Part 1 with: Idia, Cater, Octatrio

a/n: requests are closed but the concept was so cute that i can't control myself lmao and added Riddle and Leona cause i'm down bad. and thank you and i will <3

Malleus Draconia

Malleus Draconia was intimidating to most people. To you, however, he was simply too cute for his own good.

His regal demeanor, the way his eyes gleamed in the moonlight, the slight tilt of his head when he was curious—it all triggered an overwhelming, uncontrollable urge to smother him in affection. Of course, being in a relationship with the crown prince of Briar Valley came with expectations. Decorum. Restraint.

You ignored all of that entirely.

The first time it happened, you’d been walking together through the gardens late at night. Malleus was pointing out constellations, his voice low and melodic, when he glanced at you, his lips curling into a soft smile.

“Do you not find the stars enchanting?” he asked, his tone gentle.

It wasn’t the stars that enchanted you, though. It was him—his sharp features softened by the glow of fireflies, his kind, unguarded expression.

“Uh-huh, yeah, stars,” you said distractedly, before grabbing his wrist. “Malleus, come here.”

His eyes widened slightly. “Is something the matter?”

“Yeah. You’re too cute.”

Before he could protest, you dragged him off the path and into the shade of a tree.

“What are you—”

“You’ll understand,” you muttered, cupping his face and smothering him in kisses.

His breath hitched at first, his body stiffening, but he quickly melted into the affection. “Child of man, I—”

“Kisses now. Talking later,” you said, planting another kiss on the tip of his nose.

When you finally pulled away, Malleus looked utterly dazed. His cheeks were faintly flushed, his pupils blown wide, and for once, he seemed at a loss for words.

“…You are quite... spirited,” he managed after a moment. “I was unaware my presence inspired such... fervor.”

“Fervor? I call it love,” you said with a grin, pressing one last kiss to his jaw.

Malleus chuckled, the sound warm and low. “If this is your way of expressing love, I find it most agreeable.”

It became a regular occurrence after that. Anytime Malleus did something you found unbearably endearing—which was often—you’d whisk him away for a smothering session.

When he brought you a bouquet of perfectly arranged roses with a rare flower from Briar Valley nestled in the center? You kissed him until he forgot how to form words.

When he tilted his head in that adorable, inquisitive way, asking, “Why does Sebek insist on shouting so often?” You had to physically restrain yourself from dragging him into the nearest alcove right then and there.

Even when he was just being his usual princely self, you couldn’t help it. The way he carried himself with quiet dignity, his cloak billowing behind him like something out of a fairy tale—it all made your heart practically explode.

One particularly memorable moment occurred in the middle of a ceremony. Malleus, dressed in his ceremonial robes, stood tall and composed, his expression serene. But then, he caught your eye from across the room and gave you the tiniest smile.

That was it. Your brain short-circuited.

You grabbed his hand the moment the ceremony ended. “Malleus. Now.”

“Is something urgent?” he asked, tilting his head.

“Yes. You’re too cute and I’m about to lose my mind,” you whispered, dragging him behind a pillar.

“Child of man, we are still in public—”

“Shh,” you said, cupping his face and peppering kisses all over it.

Malleus froze for a moment before sighing, his hands settling on your waist. “You are relentless,” he murmured, though his tone was fond.

“And you love it,” you replied, grinning against his cheek.

“…That, I cannot deny,” he admitted, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple in return.

Despite his initial confusion, Malleus seemed to delight in your affection.

One evening, as you sat together in the Ramshackle lounge, he watched you with a soft, amused expression. “Do you truly find me so... endearing?”

“You have no idea,” you said, grabbing his hand and lacing your fingers together. “You’re the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. It’s criminal.”

Malleus chuckled, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. “Then I shall endeavor to remain... criminally endearing for you.”

The sincerity in his voice made your heart skip a beat. “You’re too perfect,” you muttered, leaning in to kiss him again.

“And yet, it is I who am fortunate,” Malleus replied softly, holding you close.

If anyone had told you that the fearsome prince of Briar Valley would be so utterly smitten with your relentless affection, you wouldn’t have believed them. But here he was, letting you smother him in kisses without a single complaint.

To Malleus, your love was as enchanting as the stars he so often spoke of. And to you, he was the brightest star of all.

Rook Hunt

Rook Hunt was accustomed to being noticed. Whether it was the way he carried himself with theatrical elegance or the poetic way he spoke, most people couldn’t help but take notice. But you—you were something else entirely.

You didn’t just admire him; you practically vibrated with cuteness aggression every time he flashed that dazzling smile.

The first time it happened, you and Rook were in the woods behind Pomefiore. He’d just finished a long-winded, flowery description of the autumn foliage, his emerald eyes sparkling with enthusiasm, when he turned to you with an expectant smile.

“Mon trésor, do you not find it magnifique?” he asked, gesturing to the fiery canopy above.

You didn’t even look at the trees. “You’re magnifique,” you blurted, already grabbing his wrist.

His brows lifted. “Ah? What is this sudden passion?”

“You’re too cute, Rook. I can’t take it,” you said, pulling him behind a cluster of trees.

“Ah, je suis flatté! But—” His words were cut off as you cupped his face and started pressing kisses all over it.

“Do you have any idea how unfair it is to look this good all the time?” you muttered between kisses.

Rook, to his credit, didn’t resist. Instead, he let out an amused laugh, his hands settling on your shoulders. “Ma chérie, you honor me with such fervent affection. I am truly overwhelmed!”

“Good,” you said, kissing the tip of his nose for emphasis.

When you finally pulled away, Rook’s cheeks were flushed, and his grin was impossibly wide. “Quelle passion! You are truly a marvel, mon amour.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” you muttered, dragging him back to the trail. “Just stop being so cute, or I’ll do it again.”

“Ah, a most delightful threat!” he said, his laugh echoing through the woods.

It became a regular occurrence. Anytime Rook did something you deemed unbearably charming—which was often—you’d whisk him away for a smothering session.

When he recited impromptu poetry about the way the sunlight danced on your hair? You grabbed his hand and dragged him into an empty classroom.

When he surprised you with a bouquet of hand-picked wildflowers and a heartfelt sonnet? You tackled him onto the nearest bench and kissed him until you were both breathless.

Even when he was just lounging in the Pomefiore lounge, reading a book with his legs crossed in that infuriatingly graceful way, you’d have to physically restrain yourself from interrupting him.

One particularly memorable instance occurred in the Mostro Lounge. You were sitting with Rook and the rest of your friends, enjoying a rare moment of calm, when Rook leaned over to whisper something in your ear.

“You look radiant tonight, mon amour,” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin.

That was it. Your brain short-circuited.

“Rook. Come with me,” you said, grabbing his hand.

“Ah, but our companions—”

“They’ll survive,” you said, dragging him out the door.

When you reached a quiet hallway, you pushed him against the wall and immediately started peppering his face with kisses.

“Mon dieu,” Rook gasped, though his grin was nothing short of delighted. “You are relentless, ma chère!”

“And you love it,” you said, punctuating your words with a kiss to his cheek.

“That is true,” he admitted, his hands resting lightly on your waist. “Your passion is as boundless as the stars themselves.”

Rook, ever the romantic, seemed to thrive on your bouts of affection.

One day, as you sat together on the steps of Ramshackle Dorm, he turned to you with a curious expression. “Tell me, mon amour, what is it about me that inspires such... ferocity?”

You paused, considering his question. “Everything,” you said finally. “The way you talk, the way you smile, the way you somehow make everything look effortlessly elegant. It’s infuriating, Rook.”

He laughed, his eyes shining with amusement. “Ah, to be adored so fiercely—it is a privilege I do not take lightly.”

“You better not,” you said, leaning in to kiss him again.

Rook sighed contentedly, his arms wrapping around you. “Mon trésor, your love is a treasure beyond compare. To be the object of such affection... I am truly blessed.”

If anyone had told you that Rook Hunt—Pomefiore’s poetic, theatrical huntsman—would enjoy being smothered in kisses at every opportunity, you wouldn’t have believed them. But here he was, grinning like the Cheshire Cat as you showered him with affection.

And honestly? You wouldn’t have it any other way.

Lilia Vanrouge

You always thought you had a pretty good handle on your emotions. Calm, collected, rational—those were the words you’d have used to describe yourself. But then, Lilia Vanrouge entered your life, and with him, your sense of self-control promptly packed its bags and left the building.

How could anyone expect you to act normal when he was that cute?

It started innocently enough. Lilia had been helping you tidy up Ramshackle Dorm one evening. He was humming some cheerful, old-timey tune while he dusted the bookshelves, floating effortlessly in the air as if gravity was just a suggestion.

You were trying to focus on organizing a stack of books, but every time you glanced up and saw his wide, mischievous grin and those bright, playful eyes, your heart would squeeze painfully.

Finally, you snapped.

“Lilia,” you said, your voice a little too tight.

“Yes, my dear?” he replied, flipping upside down mid-air to look at you.

“Come here,” you said, setting the books down with trembling hands.

“Oh?” He tilted his head, curious, but floated down to meet you. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you said, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the couch. “You’re just too cute, and I can’t take it anymore.”

Lilia blinked, utterly bemused, as you pushed him onto the couch and immediately started peppering his face with kisses.

“My, my!” he laughed, his voice lilting with amusement. “What brought this on?”

“You!” you said, punctuating your words with more kisses. “You’re adorable! How am I supposed to function when you’re like this all the time?”

Lilia laughed again, a sound so warm and joyful that it only made your aggression worse. “You’re quite passionate, aren’t you?” he teased, his hands resting gently on your shoulders.

“You have no idea,” you muttered, before resuming your assault on his cheeks.

From that day on, it became a regular occurrence.

Any time Lilia did something you deemed unbearably adorable—like floating upside down while carrying a tray of tea, or singing one of his nonsensical little songs—you’d drag him away to smother him in kisses.

Lilia, of course, thought it was hilarious.

“Is this what the you'd call ‘cuteness aggression?’” he asked once, as you squished his cheeks between your hands and kissed the tip of his nose.

“Yes,” you said, not pausing in your efforts.

“Fascinating!” he said, his crimson eyes sparkling with mischief. “I didn’t realize I had such an effect on you.”

“Oh, don’t act like you don’t know exactly what you’re doing,” you grumbled. “You’re impossible, Lilia.”

“And yet, you adore me,” he said, grinning cheekily.

You sighed, exasperated but hopelessly smitten. “Yeah, yeah. Don’t let it go to your head.”

One day, you were sitting in the Diasomnia lounge, trying to read a book while Lilia floated lazily around the room. He wasn’t even doing anything particularly remarkable—just flipping through a magazine—but every now and then, he’d let out an amused hum or a soft chuckle, and it would send your heart into overdrive.

Finally, you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Lilia,” you said, standing up abruptly.

“Yes, my darling?” he said, peering over the top of his magazine.

“Come here.”

He raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile already forming on his lips. “Feeling overwhelmed again?”

“Just shut up and come here,” you said, grabbing his wrist and dragging him out of the room.

Sebek, who had been studying at the nearby table, sputtered indignantly. “Human! What are you—”

“Later, Sebek,” you said, waving him off.

Once you were alone in the hallway, you wasted no time. Pulling Lilia close, you buried your face in his neck and started pressing kisses along his jawline.

“Goodness,” Lilia said, though his laughter made it clear he wasn’t exactly complaining. “You really are incorrigible, aren’t you?”

“You love it,” you mumbled, your voice muffled against his skin.

“That, I do,” he admitted, wrapping his arms around you.

Lilia might have been a centuries-old fae with countless stories and secrets to his name, but in your eyes, he was just your incredibly cute, endlessly lovable partner. And if that meant you had to drag him away for impromptu affection sessions on a regular basis, so be it.

Besides, judging by the way he always laughed and kissed you back, you had a feeling he didn’t mind one bit.

Jamil Viper

It started as a typical day at NRC: chaotic, mildly life-threatening, and somehow made worse by your inability to contain yourself whenever Jamil Viper was within a 10-foot radius.

You’d known for a while that Jamil was attractive—his sharp features, calm demeanor, and the way he moved with quiet precision made it hard to miss. But it was the little things that tipped you over the edge. Like the way his hair swayed when he walked, or how he absentmindedly hummed while chopping vegetables in the kitchen. The final straw? The rare moments when his lips would quirk into a tiny, private smile.

Every time you saw him, the urge to grab him, kiss him senseless, and smother him with affection became overwhelming.

And today was no different.

You were sitting in the lounge at Scarabia, watching Jamil supervise a group of first-years trying (and failing) to prepare a dish. He leaned against the counter, arms crossed, an air of quiet authority radiating from him.

But then it happened.

He sighed, shaking his head as he stepped in to salvage the mess. His hair swung over his shoulder, catching the light, and the faintest smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he muttered something about "how hard is it to chop onions properly?"

Your brain short-circuited.

Before you knew it, you were on your feet.

“Jamil,” you said, your voice slightly too loud.

He looked up, one eyebrow raised. “What is it?”

“Come with me,” you said, grabbing his wrist and pulling him towards the hallway.

“What—hey, wait a second,” he protested, glancing back at the confused first-years. “I’m in the middle of—”

“Later!” you said, dragging him into an empty corridor and shutting the door behind you.

“Do I even want to know what this is about?” he asked, crossing his arms and giving you a skeptical look.

You didn’t answer. Instead, you cupped his face in your hands and started peppering kisses all over his cheeks, nose, and forehead.

“Wha—!” Jamil stiffened, his ears turning red. “What are you doing?!”

“You’re too cute, and I can’t handle it!” you declared, kissing the tip of his nose for emphasis.

“...Cute?” he repeated, his voice a mix of disbelief and exasperation.

“Yes, cute!” you said, moving to his jawline. “How are you this adorable and this oblivious? It’s not fair!”

“Oblivious?” He frowned, though the pink dusting his cheeks betrayed his flustered state. “I’m not—this is ridiculous.”

“You’re ridiculous,” you countered, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a tight hug. “Ridiculously cute.”

Jamil groaned, though you could tell he wasn’t actually upset. “You’re impossible,” he muttered, his hands resting hesitantly on your waist.

“And yet, here you are, letting me smother you with affection,” you teased, pulling back just enough to plant a kiss on his lips.

That finally broke him. He let out a soft laugh, shaking his head as his arms tightened around you. “I don’t know what I’m going to do with you,” he said, though there was a warmth in his voice that made your heart flutter.

“You could start by kissing me back,” you suggested cheekily.

“...Fine,” he said, his lips curving into a small, genuine smile before he leaned down to kiss you properly.

Over time, Jamil got used to your random bursts of affection—well, as much as someone like him could get used to it.

One afternoon, he was studying in the library when you walked in, spotted him, and immediately felt the familiar wave of cuteness aggression wash over you.

“Jamil!” you whispered loudly, earning a warning glare from the librarian.

He looked up from his book, his expression wary. “Don’t even think about it.”

“Too late,” you said, grabbing his hand and pulling him out of his chair.

“Do you have any self-control?” he asked, though he didn’t resist as you dragged him into the nearest empty study room.

“Not when it comes to you,” you admitted, grinning as you pushed him against the wall and started kissing him all over again.

“You’re incorrigible,” he said, though his voice was softer now, his hands resting on your shoulders.

“And you’re perfect,” you replied, kissing the corner of his mouth.

Jamil sighed, but the faint smile on his lips betrayed his true feelings. “You’re lucky I like you.”

“Oh, I know,” you said, leaning in for another kiss.

And despite his grumbling, you could tell he didn’t mind one bit.

It was a quiet morning in Scarabia, the kind where the golden sunlight filtered through the ornate windows, casting patterns on the tiled floors. Jamil had just finished his early chores and was enjoying a rare moment of peace, sitting at the dining table with a cup of tea.

You, however, had other plans.

You had woken up early, groggy but immediately aware that Jamil wasn’t beside you. After a quick search, you found him in the dining room, looking effortlessly handsome as he sipped his tea. His hair was still slightly damp from a morning shower, and the soft lighting only made him more unfairly perfect.

It hit you like a tidal wave: the urge to smother him with affection was too strong to resist.

Jamil glanced up as you approached, a slight smile tugging at his lips. “Good morning,” he said.

“Morning,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. But the way he tucked a strand of his hair behind his ear, paired with the serene look on his face, made you snap.

Without a word, you pounced.

“Wha—hey!” Jamil barely had time to set his tea down before you climbed onto his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. “What are you doing?”

“You’re too cute!” you declared, pressing kisses to his temple, cheeks, and jawline.

“It’s seven in the morning,” he said, exasperated but not pushing you away. “Can’t you wait until I’ve had at least one full cup of tea?”

“Nope,” you said, smiling against his cheek. “You’re cuter than tea, and I need my morning dose of Jamil.”

He sighed, though the corners of his lips twitched upward. “You’re insufferable,” he muttered, his hands instinctively finding their way to your waist to steady you.

“And yet, you’re still letting me do this,” you teased, brushing your nose against his before planting a firm kiss on his lips.

“Because if I stop you, you’ll just pout and make it worse,” he said, though his voice was tinged with amusement.

“Exactly,” you said smugly.

Jamil shook his head, a quiet laugh escaping him. “You’re unbelievable.”

“And you love it,” you shot back, peppering kisses along his jawline.

“Unfortunately for my sanity,” he admitted, finally giving in and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “Yes, I do.”

You beamed, your heart swelling at his rare show of affection. “See? This is why you’re the best boyfriend ever.”

“Am I?” he asked dryly, though there was no hiding the warmth in his tone.

“Absolutely,” you said, pulling back just enough to look into his eyes. “And you’re lucky I like you.”

The words, a playful echo of what he often said to you, made him chuckle softly. “I suppose I am,” he said, his gaze softening as he leaned in to kiss you again.

The moment was perfect—quiet, intimate, and filled with a warmth that lingered long after you finally let him finish his tea.

Leona Kingscholar

It was midday, and Leona had naturally gravitated to his favorite pastime—napping. The way the golden sunlight filtered through the windows, casting a glow on his skin and tousled hair, made him look like a scene out of a painting.

You should’ve left him alone, let him nap in peace.

But no. You weren’t strong enough.

“Leona,” you whispered, crouching beside the couch where he lay sprawled out.

One eye cracked open, his voice a low, lazy rumble. “What d’ya want? Can’t a guy nap in peace?”

“Not when you look this cute,” you said, voice strained as you wrestled with your cuteness aggression.

His eye narrowed suspiciously, but before he could move, you pounced. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders as you planted a flurry of kisses on his face, starting with his cheek, then his forehead, then the bridge of his nose.

“Oi! Get off, you crazy herbivore!” he protested, but his laughter betrayed his words.

“Not until you stop being so perfect!” you declared, squishing his face between your hands to kiss him properly.

Leona groaned, but he didn’t push you away, even as he tried to keep up the act of annoyance. “You’re lucky I like you,” he muttered.

“And don’t you forget it,” you teased, giving him one last peck before finally letting him breathe.

You had spotted him in the dining hall, casually sitting at a table and picking at a plate of meat with that trademark nonchalance. His ears twitched slightly at the sounds around him, and he occasionally flicked his tail, his every movement smooth and effortless.

It was unfair, really.

“Leona!” you called, practically running to him.

He glanced up, raising an eyebrow. “What now? Can’t I even eat without you harassing me?”

“Nope,” you replied with a grin. “Not when you look this cute.”

“Don’t start—”

Too late. You grabbed his wrist and tugged him out of the chair, ignoring his grumbling as you dragged him to a quiet corner.

“Are you serious?” he asked, looking half-annoyed and half-amused.

“Dead serious,” you said, cupping his face and peppering him with kisses. His ears flattened slightly as his cheeks flushed, but he still didn’t stop you.

“You’re so embarrassing,” he muttered, though the small smile on his lips betrayed him.

“And you’re adorable,” you shot back, pulling him into a hug.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, resting his chin on your shoulder. “Just don’t expect me to say it back.”

Leona had taken you to a quiet spot to watch the stars, a rare moment of tranquility for the two of you. He lay back on the grass, one arm behind his head, as he pointed out constellations with a lazy smirk.

You were trying to focus on the stars, really. But the way his voice rumbled when he spoke, the way his tail lazily swished back and forth, the way his eyes glimmered like jewels under the moonlight—it was too much.

“Leona,” you said softly, turning to look at him.

“Hm?”

“You’re too cute.”

His eyebrow twitched. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

“Nope,” you said, sitting up and leaning over him. “I have to kiss you or I’ll explode.”

“Sounds like a you problem,” he teased, but he didn’t move as you leaned down to kiss him.

The first kiss was soft, then the second, then the third. Before you knew it, you were practically smothering him with affection, and Leona was laughing—actually laughing—as he let you do as you pleased.

“You’re unbelievable,” he said, his voice warm with amusement.

“And you’re perfect,” you replied, grinning down at him.

“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, pulling you down to rest against his chest. “Just stay here, you crazy herbivore.”

It was early morning, and Leona was still in bed, sprawled out like a lazy lion as usual. You had come to wake him up, but the sight of him—sleep-tousled hair, slightly grumpy expression, and one arm draped over his eyes—made your heart practically burst.

“Leona,” you said, shaking his shoulder gently.

“Go away,” he grumbled, pulling the blanket over his head.

“Nope,” you said, yanking the blanket off him. “You’re too cute, and I can’t deal with it.”

“Not this again,” he groaned, but before he could stop you, you climbed onto the bed and started kissing him awake.

“Oi! Quit it!” he protested, though his laughter made it clear he wasn’t actually mad.

“Never!” you declared, peppering his face with kisses. “This is what you get for being adorable.”

“You’re insane,” he muttered, though his arms came up to wrap around you.

“And you love it,” you replied, grinning as you kissed the tip of his nose.

Leona sighed, but there was a small smile on his lips as he pulled you closer. “Yeah, I do. Now let me sleep, you menace.”

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle Rosehearts prided himself on composure, discipline, and always adhering to the rules. He was Heartslabyul's steadfast leader, a paragon of order in a sea of chaos. But there was one thing he had no preparation for—you.

Your habit of getting cuteness aggression whenever you saw him was the one thing Riddle couldn’t figure out how to manage. Every time you dragged him away to smother him in affection, it left him flustered, red-faced, and utterly disarmed.

It started innocently enough that day. You’d been helping with the tea party preparations, setting out the sugar cubes in neat stacks, when Riddle appeared to check the arrangements. As always, he was dressed immaculately, his little crown on his head, and his expression firm as he inspected the table.

That’s when it hit you. The way his eyes narrowed slightly in concentration and how his gloved fingers adjusted a teacup ever so slightly made your heart explode.

You couldn’t take it anymore.

“Riddle,” you called, voice dangerously sweet.

He paused, glancing at you over his shoulder. “Yes? Is something—oh!”

Before he could finish, you grabbed his wrist and tugged him toward the maze, ignoring his startled protests.

“W-What are you doing?” he stammered, struggling to keep up as you dragged him down a secluded pathway.

“You’re too cute, and I can’t handle it,” you declared, finding a quiet spot among the roses.

Riddle blinked at you, completely taken aback. “I—What are you talking about? That’s absurd!”

“You’re absurdly adorable,” you corrected, cupping his face in your hands. His cheeks were already dusted with pink, and you knew you were about to make it worse.

“Stop this at once!” he tried to say, but his voice faltered as you peppered kisses all over his face. His cheeks, his forehead, the tip of his nose—you didn’t leave an inch untouched.

“Hey—” he spluttered, his hands hovering awkwardly by his sides as if unsure whether to push you away or pull you closer. “Th-This is highly improper! We’re supposed to be preparing for the tea party!”

“We can’t have a tea party if I’m dying from how cute you are,” you countered, pulling back just enough to give him a cheeky grin. “This is life-saving first aid.”

Riddle’s lips parted, clearly about to deliver a stern lecture, but the words never came. Instead, he sighed, his shoulders slumping in defeat. “You’re impossible,” he muttered, though his voice was softer now.

“Impossible to resist?” you teased, leaning in to kiss the corner of his mouth.

His face turned an even deeper shade of red, but this time he didn’t argue. Instead, he let out a small, exasperated laugh, shaking his head. “You’re utterly ridiculous.”

“And you love it,” you said confidently, wrapping your arms around his waist.

“I—” Riddle started to protest, but he stopped himself, glancing down at you with a reluctant smile. “Yes, I suppose I do.”

His quiet admission made your heart do somersaults, and you couldn’t help but squeeze him tighter.

Later, when you finally returned to the tea party preparations, Trey gave Riddle a knowing look as he noticed the slight smudge of lipstick on his cheek.

“You look like you’ve been... preoccupied,” Trey said lightly.

Riddle cleared his throat, hastily wiping his cheek with a napkin. “Nonsense! Everything is perfectly under control.”

But as he adjusted his tie and avoided your amused gaze, you could tell he wasn’t fooling anyone.

Riddle was meticulously organizing the Heartslabyul ledger, his brow furrowed in concentration as he sat at his desk in the library. His diligence was admirable, but it was also your doom.

The way his fingers adjusted his pen with precision, his lips pursing in thought, and the faint pink tint on his cheeks from the afternoon sun streaming through the windows—he was just too much.

You didn’t stand a chance.

“Riddle,” you whispered conspiratorially, sneaking up behind him.

“Hmm?” he replied absently, his focus not wavering.

You leaned closer, your lips near his ear. “I’m going to lose my mind if I don’t kiss you right now.”

That got his attention. His hand froze mid-stroke, and he turned to you with wide eyes. “Excuse me?”

You didn’t give him a chance to argue. Gently grabbing his shoulders, you pulled him into your arms and planted a flurry of kisses on his face. One on his temple, one on his cheek, and a quick peck on his lips for good measure.

“You—” he gasped, his voice tinged with both embarrassment and delight. “This is a library! Have you no sense of decorum?”

“None whatsoever,” you admitted, grinning as you pressed another kiss to his nose. “You’re way too cute when you’re working. It’s unfair.”

Riddle tried to glare at you, but the way his lips twitched upward betrayed him. “You’re insufferable.”

“And you love it,” you said smugly, brushing your nose against his.

He huffed but didn’t push you away. “You’re lucky I have a soft spot for you.”

The sun was barely peeking over the horizon when you wandered into the Heartslabyul common room, groggy and still rubbing sleep from your eyes. You hadn’t expected anyone to be awake yet, let alone Riddle, who was already immaculately dressed and sipping tea by the fireplace.

The sight of him, with his perfectly styled hair and composed demeanor, made your heart flip. How could someone look so poised this early in the morning?

“Riddle,” you mumbled, walking up to him in a daze.

He glanced up from his tea, eyebrows raising slightly. “Good morning. Did you sleep well?”

Instead of answering, you plopped yourself onto the couch beside him and buried your face in his shoulder. “You’re too cute. It’s unfair,” you grumbled.

“Is that so?” he said, his voice carrying a hint of amusement.

You nodded against him, your arms snaking around his waist as you pulled him into a cuddle. “I need compensation for the emotional damage.”

“Emotional damage?” he repeated, chuckling softly. “And what form of compensation do you require?”

“Kisses,” you declared.

He sighed, though there was a fond smile on his lips. “You’re impossible.” But he leaned down anyway, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“See? You do love me,” you teased, snuggling closer.

“More than you’ll ever know,” he admitted softly, his hand coming up to stroke your hair.

One lazy afternoon, you found Riddle tending to the roses in the Heartslabyul garden. He looked so peaceful, carefully snipping away stray thorns and inspecting each bloom with the utmost care.

You stood there for a moment, watching him, before the cuteness aggression hit you like a brick wall. His sleeves were rolled up, exposing his forearms, and there was a soft smile on his lips as he admired his work.

“Riddle!” you called, jogging over to him.

He turned, surprised by your sudden enthusiasm. “Yes? Is something the matter?”

“Yes!” you said, grabbing his hand and dragging him to a secluded corner of the garden. “You’re too cute, and I can’t deal with it!”

“Wha—?!”

Before he could protest, you wrapped your arms around him and began peppering kisses all over his face. His cheeks turned as red as the roses around you, and he looked utterly flustered.

“We’re in public!” he hissed, though he made no real effort to escape your grasp.

“Then stop being so adorable,” you teased, pulling back just enough to look him in the eyes.

He sighed, clearly torn between exasperation and affection. “You’re so infuriating,” he muttered.

“But you love me,” you replied, grinning.

“I do,” he admitted, his voice soft as he leaned in to kiss you properly. “Far more than I should, considering how insufferable you are.”

“Aw, you’re so romantic,” you teased, squeezing him tightly.

Riddle simply rolled his eyes, though the small smile on his lips said it all.

Masterlist ; Part 1 with Idia, Cater, Octatrio