#as previously stated i’m so so scared

[handcat]

back to the dating app 🚶

[amourane]

so this is love

pairing: theodore nott x hufflepuff!reader

genre: fluff

w/c: 2.7k

summary: there's a weird feeling that erupts in theo's chest whenever he looks at you and for the first time in his life his mind goes silent.

warnings: none!

a/n: i honestly love this so much and it's so so sooo cute!

Theodore Nott was many things. Quiet, judgmental, emotionless and most importantly handsome. One of the prettiest boys in Hogwarts yet the most unapproachable. No one had ever seen a smile grace his lips and if you had tried to converse with the Slytherin he would only stare at you with blank eyes waiting for you to go away. He spoke little words but it was enough for people to get the point. Unlike his rowdy group of friends, he wouldn’t merrily join in conversation, rather make snarky remarks every now and then, an uninterested look always on his face. A scowl or a smirk always tugged at his lips as he listened to what his friends had to say. 

Even though Theo never voiced his thoughts out loud he always knew what to think. His mind was constantly running at a hundred miles per hour. Every little thing he wanted to say flitted through his mind. It was as if his head was a cacophonous symphony. 

Yet as he looked at the girl in yellow robes his mind was oddly quiet. He watched her silently as she dropped her ingredients into her cauldron. It was a rare moment. One he had discovered a month ago when he had finished his potion early and looked around to see if anyone else was done. There you were. Eyes scanning the contents of your Potion’s book but it was quite clear you had finished brewing whatever was in your cauldron as you leaned back into your seat. 

Theo’s mind was silent. 

There were no thoughts, no opinions, no judgments. He stared at you and it made him uneasy. There was something about you that unnerved him. He didn’t recall you from his other classes and it was the first time he had even seen you in Potions. As he felt the comforting silence settle in his head he concluded one thing - you were interesting and he was going to keep an eye on you.

“Nott, mate, what are you doing? I’ve been asking you to pass me a quill for about a century, have you suddenly gone deaf?” Blaise nudged Theo out of his trance and the brunette blinked for a second before passing over a quill. His partner frowned before following where his eyeline previously was and he smirked. “Still obsessing over the little Hufflepuff I see. Who knew you were capable of having feelings.”

“I don’t fancy her.”

“I never said you did.” Blaise’s smirk widened. “You came up with that on your own.”

Theo felt his face heat up. It wasn’t true. He didn’t like you, not in the slightest. He was merely fascinated at how you were able to turn his manic mind into a state of tranquillity. He looked over. You were talking to your partner beside you and Theo assumed she had said something funny because a grin had overtaken your pretty features and a giggle slipped past your lips. Theo didn’t fancy you but he couldn’t deny that you were the prettiest girl he had ever seen.

//

“He’s staring again.” Hannah said as she poked your side to get your attention. “It’s like he’s drilling holes into your skull. Do you think he wants to hex you?”

You looked up from your cauldron with a frown as you faced your friend. “He doesn’t stare at me, don’t be silly Hannah. I’m sure he has a reason for looking this way.”

“Y/n you’re terrible at finding excuses for anything. It’s so obvious he’s looking at you and his glare is starting to scare me a bit.” 

Behind your fellow Hufflepuff was Theodore Nott. Your eyes glaze over his perfectly tousled hair and his dark coloured eyes. He really was handsome. You watch as he says something to Blaise and you see a tint of pink touch his cheeks. Cute. You smiled to yourself. Merlin, he was really cute.

Theodore Nott had been watching you for a few weeks now and you weren’t oblivious enough to not notice the Slytherin’s gaze. At first you didn’t know how to react when you first felt his eyes on you. It was weird. Every time you would turn around he would already be looking down at his piece of parchment, scribbling something down with his quill. You had never caught him staring at you but you could certainly feel it. The piercing feeling of his stare made goosebumps rise on your skin. In a way you found it endearing. Sometimes you would turn around and find him, nose deep in his textbook and you could faintly see the tips of his ears blush red. It was those times you would giggle to yourself. 

It was arrogant to assume that Theo felt that way about you but for some reason you couldn’t help but get a little giddy at the thought he might. That someone like him would even think about going out with someone like you. That the cutest guy in your year would fancy you. Then reality came crashing back and you knew that a Slytherin would never be seen with a Hufflepuff much less date one.

“Hello? Earth to Y/n? You still there?” Hannah waved her hand in front of your face. “Merlin, one mention of Nott and you go all dreamy on me. When are you going to ask him out then?”

Your cheeks flared up with heat and you couldn’t help a smile that tugs at your lips. “Shush Hannah.” You try to sound serious but with your blushing face and bright grin it’s hard to do so.

“You’re actually whipped, Y/n.” Hannah let out a laugh and you let a giggle slip past your lips at her statement. You didn’t feel the need to deny it after all, maybe it held some truth. 

//

Theodore Nott always knew what to say and when but as he stood in front of you he found himself speechless. Now as his eyes wandered over your delicate hands and beautiful face he couldn’t find the words that needed to be said. His mind was quiet again. Silence. He opened his mouth to apologise for bumping into you and nearly knocking you over but no words came out. So he did the next best thing, help you grab your books.

You were scrambling to grab scrap pieces of parchment that had escaped the grasps of your books and Theo grabbed the Herbology textbook you had dropped. He watched as you gathered your things before finally meeting his gaze. You smiled and he felt his heart stop. Suddenly it was as if he was being engulfed in a tidal wave. There was a twinkle in your eyes and it set off a spark in his chest that he didn’t know was there. Theo felt himself grow hot as you stared at him and for the first time in his life he felt self conscious.

“Thank you.” You said and he felt his ears ring as your voice echoed through his mind. “I’m really sorry I wasn’t watching where I was going and I was in a rush to get to my next class. I hope you aren’t hurt anywhere.”

A beat passed.

Theo blinked. He watched as your bright expression slowly morphed into one of concern. He watched as you reached out to touch his arm.

“Theodore?”

“It’s Theo.” Is the only thing he can think to say before he realised how it must’ve sounded rude. “But you can call me Theodore. I don't mind.”

Another beat passed.

The two of you were now standing in the middle of the hallway as other students passed by. Theo could hear their whispers as they looked. The curious eyes wondering what a Slytherin could possibly be talking to a Hufflepuff about. For a second Theo thinks he’s upset you and you’re going to storm off but he’s proven wrong. The bright smile returned to your face.

“Well Theo, I’m going to need my Herbology textbook back, I’ve already been late twice this week.” 

“O-Oh yes right, sorry I forgot.”

Theodore Nott has never once stumbled over his words. Yet as he stood in front of you he found himself wrapped in a world he had never known before. He felt himself grow even warmer and he reached a hand to loosen the emerald tie around his neck. This was unlike him. He never went speechless, he never struggled to find a smart quip or retort and he most definitely never stuttered. You brought out a side to him that was new and he didn’t know if he liked it or not.

“Thank you for helping me Theo, I’ll see you in Potions.” You waved goodbye as you hurried off down the hallway. 

Theo’s eyes remained glued onto your frame as you ran. A rising bubbly feeling began in his chest and he felt his heart quicken. He gulped. You had long disappeared from his view but he still felt a burning sensation on his cheeks and he tried to cool himself down with his hands but it served no use. Giving up, he turned away and marched down the hall determined to figure out whatever he was feeling.

//

“You know staring at her won’t make her your girlfriend Nott.” Mattheo smirked as he watched his best friend. The others at the Slytherin table tittered with laughter and Theo rolled his eyes. He was now used to his friend’s teasing and even though it was relentless he didn’t pay any attention to it. Why would he? It wasn’t true anyway.

“Very funny Riddle.”

“You know me Theo, always the jokester.” He winked as he sipped the pumpkin juice in his cup.

“But seriously Theo you should ask her out if you like the girl. Salazar, it's better than drilling holes in the back of her head.” 

“Pansy’s right Nott, we’re all tired of you mooning over the girl just go ask her out already and then the two of you can go snog in the broom cupboard.” Draco snickered and the other Slytherins erupted into another round of laughter.

“Well you’ve got it all wrong I don’t fancy her.” Theo looked at his friends with a scowl present on his face. “She makes me feel all these things and I hate it. I hate how different it is. I hate how quiet everything gets when I look at her. I hate how she makes me feel and it’s all horrible and downright disgusting. It’s like I’ve got a fever whenever I’m around her and I’ve somehow contracted some life-threatening heart disease. My mouth dries up and I stumble over what I say and it’s not like me at all. So no, you’ve all got it wrong because I don't fancy her.”

With that Theo leaves the table, dinner untouched, with red cheeks and a rapidly beating heart. His friends watched dumbfounded as their friend trudged away. They all exchange knowing glances before shaking their heads at his obliviousness to his own feelings.

“That guy seriously needs to realise that sometimes not being an emotionless prick isn’t going to kill him.” Pansy dug into her beef as she scoffed at her friend’s stupidity.

Unbeknownst to the Slytherins a certain Hufflepuff was watching as their friend stormed off, her eyes never once leaving his ruby red face and the angry glare that accompanied it. She excused herself from her table before slipping away to follow a certain brunette.

//

Annoyance was the main thing that Theodore Nott felt at the moment. Anger at the persistence that he had a crush on you when he didn’t, he knew he didn’t. You had cast some sort of spell on him. Some sort of hex that made him notice every little bit about you. The way your smile lit up the room, the way your laughter echoed in his mind like the happy tinkering of a bell. Every second he saw you it was as if you overtook his senses. Clouding his sight with your beauty, suffocating him with your sweet scent, muffling his ravenous thoughts until everything was calm. 

When Theodore Nott looked at you he felt an overwhelming emotion, one that he couldn’t explain, but it made his hectic thoughts still and as cheesy as it sounded it made time itself stand still. When Theodore Nott looked at you he noticed every fine small detail like the way you like to smile at yourself whenever you get a question right or the way you tap your fingers on the desk when you’re concentrating. When Theodore Nott looked at you he felt his heart soar and he isn’t used to feeling this unnatural emotion that had been brewing inside of him.

He didn’t even notice you were behind him until he heard your voice. Soft and gentle and kind. He spun around. You had a look of concern etched upon your face and you stepped closer towards him and he backed away feeling his heart quicked once again. He glared at you hoping that his stare would force you to go away and would force whatever he was feeling to disappear.

“Are you okay Theo? I saw you leave and you didn’t touch your food, did something happen?”

You were so caring, so nice, so calm. You were so many things and Theo couldn’t take it. Couldn’t take looking at you when he could hear his heart pumping. “What are you doing to me?” He whispered, backing away further.

You frowned. “I haven’t done anything Theo. Are you sure you’re okay you look quite red and-”

“You’re lying.” He seethed. “You’re lying because why are you making me feel these things? Why does my mind go quiet, my thoughts stop, the words fail? There’s no explanation to this. I don’t understand why my heart races and everything suddenly feels hotter around me. I don’t understand this feeling I have inside me, some magnetic force that keeps pulling me to you. You’re everywhere Y/n.”

His glare intensified as he spoke, each word punctuated by a slow, deliberate step forward. “I look at you and I feel things I’ve never felt before, this bubbly warm feeling. Whenever I’m around you I can’t think of what to say. I close my eyes and I see your smile, your eyes. I can hear your laughter even if we’re in the noisiest classroom. You’re everywhere Y/n. So tell me, what have you done to me?”

A beat of silence.

The both of you stare at each other. Your frown had long gone and now you simply looked at the Slytherin in front of you trying to decipher his anger.

“It’s love Theo.” You take a step closer. “All the things you’ve just said - it’s love.”

Theo froze. His expression remained stony yet his eyes betrayed his thoughts as he looked away for a second. He blinked before looking at you once again. Your eyes, the eyes he couldn’t help but notice everywhere he went, looked back at him. His mind was no longer quiet. An outbreak of noise erupted inside his head and he struggled to grasp what was going on. He couldn’t focus. All he could hear was his own voice in his mind, overlapping, shouting, screaming, crying. It all came crashing down and Theo didn’t know what to do.

Then your lips collided with his and he stilled. The noise died down. Chaos ceased. Theo let his eyes flutter shut as he kissed you back with fervour. Your lips were soft and you tasted sweet like strawberries. He wrapped his arm around your waist and you were warm as you leaned into his touch. He felt your arms tangle in his hair and he smiled at the feeling. This felt right. This didn’t feel weird or disgusting. It was something he never thought he would feel. 

The both of you broke apart and you blinked looking at Theo with your beautiful eyes. His heart continued to race. You beamed up at him and he couldn’t help but smile back. You were so pretty, so gorgeous and you had just kissed him. His mind was finally quiet again. The strange feeling that filled his body now didn’t feel so foreign at all in fact it felt natural as he gazed at you.

“It’s love Theodore Nott. That’s what you feel.” You give him another kiss. “And it’s what I feel too.”

Theodore Nott was many things but as he closed his eyes to kiss you once again there is only one thing that he wants to be - in love with you.

[miirohs]

adore you [k.s]

pairing: Ken Sato x Fem!Reader wc: 1.0k cw: n/a an: this was messy 3 am thoughts... bare with me pls my thoughts can be coherent if i try. lso not proofread tee hee. man i have too much free time wtf.

You knew Ken was lofty in his other form, for a lack of better words, but you had severely underestimated how tall he could truly get.

He was barely avoiding hitting the ceilings from the look of it, left awkwardly kneeling on the cold metal floor as Emi ran laps around him. You watched it go down from the safety of being near the elevator, wincing as he tousled with Emi, long arms outstretched in an attempt to grab her once again.

“Ken?” It was supposed to be a lot softer than it sounded, but the room was like an echo chamber, voice warping around the room rather loudly.

He immediately turned to you, bright pupils widening in recognition. Even Emi stopped, distracted by you as she hit and slid down Ken’s leg.

“Hi baby, when’d you get down here?” He moved a little closer, one hand on the floor and the other on his knee as he towered over you.

“Oh! It was only a couple moments ago, I just…” You faltered, your eyes meeting his glowing ones. You could’ve sworn he was further from you a moment ago.

You still weren’t used to his other form, rare occasions where you’d see it in person. He was much smaller and lithe on screen, but in real life it was so much more menacing. You tried not to shudder at the cold air drafting towards you.

“I just missed you, that’s all.” You placed a hand on the space between his eyes, petting the smooth metal. “It’s a bit stuffy up there, isn’t it?”

He didn’t respond to you or the concerned chirps from Emi as she moved closer to get a better look at you. It was only as Emi reached out to grab you that he pushed her back, unfurling his previously fisted hand in front of you.

“C’mere.”

“What?” You blinked, shying away a little as he pushed his open palm closer to you.

“I said c’mere baby,” He stated, tone rather teasing as he beckoned you forward, “Emi’s probably gonna get scared because she’s not that familiar with you, she might stomp you by accident if I leave you on the ground sitting around like that.”

Your heart raced a bit as you opened your mouth, drawing a blank as you reached out a hand and drew it back.

“Is this really safe?” He nodded earnestly, chuckling under his breath as he mimicked your question.

“Hey! I can still hear you y’know!” You fumed. He rolled his eyes, pushing the tip of his finger under your hand. “I know, but you ought to trust me more, don’t you think? I’m Ultraman and your boyfriend!” 

You groaned, swayed by his playful persistence. "Fine… I’ll do it." you relented, warmth from his teasing spreading to your ears and neck.

“Come on, trust me, I promise I won't let anything happen to you," he reassured as you gingerly hauled yourself into his hand, wobbling for a couple moments on the uneven surface before you fell flat on his palm.

His pupils softened, surprisingly gentle as he held you, fingers closing on you slightly as he brought you closer to his face. That didn’t stop you from digging your nails into his relatively warm skin, breathing unevenly.

"There you go, attagirl," he murmured, unfurling his fingers for you to get a better view of everything. "See? ‘S perfectly safe. Nothing’s gonna happen if you move."

You couldn’t really bring yourself to move, instead choosing to cling to one of his fingers, halfheartedly eyeing the gap through which you could see Emi playing with one of his cars. He was clearly getting a kick out of it, pupils glowing in the dim light as he poked a finger at you affectionately.

“I don’t know how anyone can do this so easily,” You sighed, pushing the tip of his finger to the as he giggled at your predicament, “This makes me lowkey nauseous, everything looks so small from up here.”

“Everything seems small from up here baby,” He replied. You could almost imagine the face he was making under the mask. Smirking, perhaps, but still as charming as the day you met him.

“Maybe it’s just you getting big,” You shot back playfully, a smirk tugging at your lips as you teased him. Ken’s laugh shook you, and you fell down again with an umph.

“Watch it,” he retorted with mock seriousness, “I might just have to charge you for the free ride you just caught with me.” You rolled your eyes. “Oh please,” you snarked, feigning offense at the suggestion as you pushed yourself back up, “You’d end up paying for that one way or another.”

“I wouldn’t be opposed to that.” He flirted back, and the edge you’d been on slowly melted away as he laughed. He leaned in closer, his voice low and teasing. "In fact, I'd gladly pay the price for having you close to me like this."

“Uh uh,” You cackled, interrupting him by landing a kiss on his cheek, “Getting a little suspicious there, Ultraman, keep it pg! There’s a child in the room!”

"You're too much," He murmured, “Too much, baby.”

"Can't help it," you replied, leaning back against his finger for support, “You’re just so unserious sometimes.”

“It's a talent," He shrugged, "But seriously, are you okay up here? Not too dizzy? I’ll bring you back down if you want."

You nodded, feeling more settled now. "I'm good, it’s not so drafty up here."

“You know, I like having you in my hand like this. You’re like a speck of dust, feels like you’ll basically disappear any second now." He cocked his head, the look of a lost puppy ever clearer in his eyes.

“Don’t worry cowboy,” You patted his thumb affectionately, watching as Emi clambered up his leg and failed, only to try again. “You’d make a pretty good giant, if I do say so myself. I wouldn’t mind hanging out more with you like this."

“Is this a date?” He asked, obviously surprised by the move you made on him.

“If you want it to be.” You answered distractedly, clapping as Emi tried to show you the car in her hand.

“I think i’d like that,” He replied back quietly, even if you hadn’t heard him, distracted by the baby. “I’d think so, baby.”

[lani-heart]

|| series masterlist || next // previously ||

genre(s) -> angst, fluff, smut, non-idol, hybrid au, poly au paring(s) -> ( eventually ) ATEEZ x reader warning(s) -> mentions of violence, mention of putting down / death, etc. words -> 2.8K

abstract -> finally we have a home...

y/n's perspective

My hands have been tied with helping San. His memories are still scrambled but better… he’s starting to remember his past, which upsets him. He still hasn’t tried to get to know Wooyoung or Yeosang. Hongjoong and Seonghwa tried not to confuse him by getting too close yet. 

However, another problem is the rivalry that Seonghwa and Yeosang found themselves in. 

“Yeosang, please just learn to get along with him?” I begged as he helped me with my hair. Today Wonyoung was forcing me out to a business party. So I had to leave… I didn’t want to but I did. And now all of my hybrids have forced me to take one of them to protect me. 

As much as I wanted to spend more time with San, he couldn’t come, and neither could Wooyoung, and Hongjoong either. My only option was Seonghwa or Yeosang. I also couldn’t leave San alone… so I chose Seonghwa. Besides, the tiger hybrid looked happy and excited. 

“Why him?” he asked, clearly annoyed and I sighed. “I need you to take care of San, please,” I asked his eyes softened, and he nodded. 

“I just want you to be okay,” he confessed and I smiled. “I will, but I'm worried about leaving you all alone,” I said and he shook his head. “I’ll take care of the overgrown cat” he confirmed and I was happy he agreed. 

“And if anything goes wrong–” “It won't stop worrying, he’s been getting better. He’s starting to remember Wooyoung. He also follows his instinct, he’ll get his memories back,” he said and I smiled. “Hey, don’t cry now. Wonyoung will get mad if you fix your makeup and make her wait even more” he said and I nodded. 

“Yeosang?” I said and he looked at me through the mirror. He was currently doing finishing touch-ups on my hair. “I love you all so much,” I said and he smiled softly. 

“I love you more than you’ll ever believe, angel,” he said and offered his hand as he led me outside my room. “That tiger better have done what I told him” Yeosang muttered and I chuckled. “Give him a break, he seems to like the life of socialites,” I said and he rolled his eyes. “What’s there to like? The alcohol, drugs, views, likes?” He listened and I smiled. 

“The glamor” I answered and he chuckled. “It's not worth it,” he said and I nodded. “But let his obliviousness enjoy it. He didn’t live through it, so let him be happy” I said and he sighed but understood. For some reason the two have stated their rivalry… but I thought it was sweet – well sometimes. 

“I’m ready!” I heard as I saw Seonghwa. He was in the suit that I got him, his hair gelled up and… oh? I didn’t notice it at first. I never got him a collar? I swear that I…

I did buy them… but I was too scared to give it to them. 

“Angel? Are you okay?” Yeosang asked and I nodded. “Can you do me a favor? There's a box under my bed, grab the black velveted one” I said and he nodded as he went to my room. 

“Is there something wrong?” Seonghwa asked and I shook my head. “When hybrids go out they need collars, it's… the rules” I said and his eyes showed disappointment. “Oh… so–” “I actually bought your collars a while ago. When… you guys ended up accepting me as your owner, I knew I needed to get you two one but I didn’t know if it would make you guys feel angry– but you don't have to wear a collar here if you don’t want to its just so they don't–” “You’re rambling” Seonghwa said softly and with a smile and I chuckled. 

“Oh” I let out and he laughed. “I always wanted a collar…” he confessed and I felt my eyes widen. I smiled, “I’m glad then,” I said and I soon saw Yeosnag again. He handed the box to Seonghwa, already knowing what it was. It was the same brand as his and San and Wooyoung. I would have to give Hongjoong’s collar soon.

The rules mandate that if they found a hybrid without a collar they’d take them to an adoption center immediately. Some areas allow non-collared hybrids just because of how expensive hybrid collars are. Luckily the hospital was one so I didn’t get Hongjoong in trouble and besides Jeno or Johnny would’ve stepped in. However, this was different… This was a socialite party. 

San’s collar was a pretty black jeweled one, whilst Wooyoung was beige, and Yeosang’s white. All of them are jeweled, all the same from the same designer. 

He opened it to reveal his… it was a silver chrome color and his smile seemed uncontrollable and it looked like he wanted a hug. I opened my arms and he lifted me up slightly by my waist. “Hey! You’re gonna wrinkle her dress and ruin her hair!” Yeosang scolded us and made us laugh. 

“How long did it take for you to get a collar?” Seonghwa asked Yeosnag and he shrugged. “I ordered one for him the day I got him officially. I knew he envied San’s and Wooyoung’s since he also held meaning for collars. Though you don’t need to have it on the entire time, you can take it off anytime at home just while we’re there you need to keep–" "You're rambling again” he said and I chuckled. 

“I wanna keep it on, but if it gets overwhelming i'll take it off” he said the same thing as San and Wooyoung. They never take it off, neither does Yeosang. However, he had a different meaning to always keep it on, sure he feels comfort on having it but the scar of his last collar showed if he didn’t keep it on. 

“Don’t get lost in your thoughts now” Yeosang said and I chuckled. 

“Yeah, we have a party to go to…” 

seonghwa’s perspective

I didn’t expect to see so many people laughing and drinking in fancy clothes and jewelry. It was nothing like that run-down and dirty circus… it was the socialites. The consumers who bought the expensive tickets to have us do special tricks for them.

Even y/n seemed like a different person here… she socialized and looked like a natural while I stood beside her clearly overwhelmed. With hybrids looking at me in pity… like I was new, and I was. They, however, looked miserable.

“I would’ve thought you’d bring Yeosang” I heard and I saw a woman dressed in a black dress with jewelry. She glared at y/n… who was she? How’d she know the Doberman?

y/n didn’t respond to her instead drank her cocktail and the woman scoffed. “You have so many pretty hybrids, making a collection are we?” she said and I felt uncomfortable. Hongjoong was right, they do look at us like objects…

“I did my research, you know. You were right about your little panther, he was an illegal hybrid ring fighter. That’s quite dangerous for someone like you, aren’t you scared he’d hurt you” she taunted, making my jaw tighten… I wanted to tell her off but for y/n’s sake I couldn't. I may not get along the best with them but for her to talk about them like that pissed me off… She knew nothing about us. 

“And where’d you find this pretty tiger?” she said and y/n scoffed while glaring at the girl. “You never give up do you?” she said and she giggled. “I can say the same thing about you, and how you took Sangie away from me” she pouted… Sangie? Was she talking about Yeosang? 

“You’re lucky I didn’t get you in jail” y/n said and she giggled while glaring. “Well lovely journalist, we did negotiate. You can have the doberman, I don’t care. In fact I'm thinking of adopting another hybrid” she pondered and I didn’t want to make my stance known. 

I was a hybrid… I was y/n’s accessory tonight. I couldn’t cause any trouble. 

“Ooh, by the way that lawyer of yours was cute! Hendery–” y/n son grabbed my wrist and dragged me away. I could hear her laughing from behind me as I was dragged off. 

She looked annoyed and… hurt? “I understand why Yeosang wanted to join you now,” I said and she shook her head. “Sorry, is your wrist–” “I'm okay. It didn’t hurt, are you okay?” I asked and she smiled a tired smile. 

“Please don’t tell Yeosang about her” she pleaded and I was confused. “She’s his old owner right? The one who… sold him?” I asked and she nodded. 

“Never mention her in front of him,” she warned and I nodded. She didn’t seem like it… but she was a witch in disguise. “This is annoying isn’t it?” she said and she laughed it off but before I could respond. 

“Don’t tell me you were going to run off without saying hello now?” I heard and I saw a man. “Jungwoo!” she said as she hugged him. He looked like a model from Yeosang’s weekly magazines. 

“It’s been a while. I also heard you’ve been busy this year” Jungwoo said and she chuckled… 

“Getting three aggressive hybrids, a popular mistreated hybrid, and Wooyoung. Not to mention created a mortal enemy, been undercover twice, and started a book?” he said and I felt my ears flatten a bit. All of the hybrids have decided to stray away from the topic of writing… she was clearly upset with her draft being ripped by Hongjoong…

“Ah yeah…” she said sadly and his eyebrows furrowed now looking worried. “Hey, are you okay?” he asked and she nodded. “I need to rewrite a whole new book, Jungwoo,” she pouted and he sighed. “If anyone can do it, it's you. You’re the best writer I know” he said and she smiled. “I’m the only writer you know” I said and he laughed it off and shrugged. He soon looked at me curiously… What did he want?

“Are you not gonna introduce me to you hybrid?” he asked and I straightened my posture now that the attention was on me… “Ah! This is Seonghwa, he was a part of the Kim Family Circus. Seonghwa, this is Jungwoo, an old friend.” she said in which he offered his hand, and shook each other's hands. “Are you gonna leave so soon?” he asked and I looked at her as she smiled softly at the man and nodded. “As long as you want to go to Seonghwa?” she asked and I smiled. 

I was here because I wanted to… I regret it already but I need to protect her.

By the end of the party, y/n chatted with many people besides the model. She really was a socialite… a completely different person than the hermit writer from the apartment.

“Let's go home, Seonghwa,” she said with a drunk smile. I hated this party. Everyone kept staring at her… men looking her up and down hybrid owners looking at me as if I’d join their collection… hybrids looking at me with pity.

“Seonghwa?” she said and I looked at her waiting for her to continue speaking. Instead, she smiled and hugged me. I could tell she was a little drunk a few cocktails ago but she was fine, and I was by her side protecting her. 

I took off my trench coat and put it around her. I also started carrying on my back on our way back home… home. I smiled thinking about it. I finally had a place like that. 

“I never want any of you to hate me,” she muttered and I froze for a minute… What was she saying?

“Hongjoong… he scares me sometimes, but he’s trying to be around humans for the first time. You keep on treating me like fragile glass… like I’ll explode and throw you out” she said and I sighed… maybe she was right.

“You keep competing for my attention… Yeosang is the same way. I don’t want you guys to fight each other… get along please?” she begged as she gripped my shoulders hugging me tight as I walked… Her words made me feel guilty. 

“I won’t get rid of you… you’re not trash,” she said and I felt tears from my eyes…

“I’m rewriting my book, you know?” she said and I wasn’t shocked at it. Wooyoung said that she might start writing soon with how much she’s been daydreaming. “You and Hongjoong are in it,” she said and I was shocked she’d put us in the book. “Seonghwa?” she said as I stopped to look over my shoulder at her, she smiled prettily at me with her eyes filled with wonder and life almost like stars. 

“You’re more valuable to me than anything I own… the others are just as important. None of you are a collection, you’re my family” she said and I smiled softly at her soft features. 

“Just promise to never leave me,” she said as she started closing her eyes tiredly. 

“I’d never think of it, princess” 

“Why are you two home so late?!” Yeosang yelled only to be smacked by Wooyoung once they saw her on my back their eyes widened. “Is she okay?” Wooyoung asked and I nodded. 

I noticed San behind the two looking at her just as worried… he’ll be back to normal soon. I'll make sure he does... while even Hongjoong was looking from afar, also worried. I sighed before I decided to speak up. 

“Let’s not fight, '' I said and the three hybrids before me and Hongjoong looked at me confused. “She doesn’t like us fighting… we’re a family to her. The least we can do is try to be one” I said and they all nodded. “Yeosang?” I said and he looked at me with an expression I couldn’t understand. 

“I don’t want to fight you anymore. I owe y/n a lot… but I won’t fight you for stupid nonsense anymore” I said and he nodded. “I won’t either… I guess I should try to respect you a bit more. You are very old.” he said and I scoffed. He doesn’t change… I kinda prefer it this way. Our useless teasing…

“You’re right… you’ve been with us for almost a month now. For y/n we should try to get along” Wooyoung said and San stayed silent next to him as we now looked at the tiny tiger. “I agree… we all owe in our different ways. We all want to protect her, and we will for others. It’s useless arguing with each other” Hongjoong said and I agreed. 

“Put her to bed. We should all go to sleep soon now that she’s back” Hongjoong said and everyone listened. I went to her room where I softly put her down… I suddenly hear the door open to see Yeosang. “I’ll undress her,” he said and I agreed.

“What’d she say to make you say that, by the way?” he asked and I smiled. “We’re her family, she said we were her most valuable treasure” I said and his eyes widened. “Her friends said she was lonely… until she adopted San and then it's been busier than ever.” he confessed as he took off her heels while she succumbed to her soft mattress and fluffy pillows. 

“We’re too alike… I come from a world where I was drowning in expensive and luxurious lifestyles… but none of it was worth it until meeting her. You tigers are the same way.” he said and I chuckled. 

“I wished for an owner to pamper me… I saw so many hybrids in shows, lots of them younger ones with their owners. They looked at me like they didn’t know what abuse was. I envied them…” I confessed and the doberman sighed.

“y/n gives us everything… Sometimes I think she’ll get rid of me.” I said and the Doberman sighed. “She wouldn’t ever… I thought the same way. She, however, would never, if she were to get another hybrid I’d feel threatened but I knew she wouldn’t ever replace nor abandon me” he confessed and I nodded. 

“Go so I can put her in something comfortable,” Yeosang said and I nodded. 

“Now get out” he said and I laughed as I walked out to my room I shared with Hongjoong with a smile and for once genuinely of pure happiness…

“You look like a maniac” I heard as I saw Hongjoong… my longest and only companion for a while. I hugged him who hugged me back questioningly… “Are you okay?” he asked and I felt my tail wag uncontrollably.

“We have a family Hongjoong… somewhere we belong” 

@wonuangel @danirael @angelsaway @krissroo @minkysmilk @mayonnaise-on-toast @robertsbbygirl @superbbananananana @hyukssunflower @kitty4hwa @justconniez @senpai-of-doom @kibs-and-bits @caityelise99 @ilovekinny @ateezennie23 @wooahaelemons @purplelady85 @watamotee33@chidess97 @littlelostdemonofthelight @maliamaiden @burntarm1n @spooo00oky @eastleighsblog @momo-peachy @kitstar1117 @quartzpirate @sunnyhokyu @iwishiwasrichasfuck @theginger543210 @pandolinka @ddaeing @kpopnightingale @slid3er @kekdo-520 @puppyminnnie @sparklinghwa222 @calicanbeevil @itsvxlentine @atinism @loumin908 @smally97 @rxnexxi @acetruepunk @majesticbeluga @namjooncrabs @tashizxy @itstheghostofmypast @smilefordongil @teeziny @totallynotlyntv @kyeos4ng @prodsh00ky @acescavern

please don't be a silent reader !! reblog, comment, and like <3

[gilverrwrites]

How are you? I love your fics ❤️ and kept having this idea in my head.

Dick Grayson when he discovers early in their relationship, she never had someone give her head before. Like she’s getting all shy at her confession and says it’s nothing, but Dick doesn’t undermine her and says when she’s ready, he will make it SO memorable. This conversation always is at the back on her mind and after some time pass in their relationship, she is ready and he makes her sit on his face??? Like why is this so hot? Ofc, she will be insecure at first and wouldn’t want to suffocate him , he just really guides her through it but like more in a gentle rom way. Just imagine her experiencing like the most intense orgasm while also gaining self confidence and squirting for the first time too ?! 🤭

Memorable

Dick Grayson/F!Reader, 2.1K words AN: I’m well, thank you for asking, I hope the same can be said about you. Thank you for sharing, this is such a hot and sweet idea. When I started, I was just planning short blurb type response, but I guess it kind of got away from me. CW: First time cunnilingus, soft dom Dick (if you squint), dirty talk, swearing, hair pulling (Dick receiving), praise, squirting/female ejactulation, petnames: baby, good girl, pretty girl, perfect girl.

18+ MDNI

On the surface, Dick is the perfect gentleman about it, excluding his flabbergasted initial response.

“What? Never?” Followed by the even denser question; “Because you never had the opportunity? Or just never wanted to?” As if it mattered a whit either way.

But after that, he apologises for his reaction. He takes your hand, stares at you with those deep-set blue eyes that have always seen you, with that smile that soothes you and promises; “When… if you let me be your first, I promise I’ll make it worth it. We’ll make sure it’s memorable together.”

And then it’s ’forgotten’, he doesn’t bring it up, doesn’t talk about it unless you do. Ostensibly, the perfect gentleman, not wanting to scare you off with his enthusiasm, because on the inside he’s feral, obsessed with the idea of potentially being the first man to savour the taste of your hot, wet folds, to make you coo and pant and wither with just his mouth, to make you cum all over his face, fuck. All of it makes him hard as a rock in an instant.

The night you finally commit is nerve-racking for you both because you’ve built the moment up in your minds for so long. But Dick is determined to make this one of the greatest sexual pleasures of your life, and you trust him completely, that still, however, does not absolve all of your unease.

You’re already curled up together on the bed, in repective states of undress when you tell him you’re ready. His body immediately grows stiff, radiating excitement. He abandons his attack on the soft spot of your neck to examine your expression, you stare at each other, searching for reassurance, and find only dilated pupils and heavy lids.

“You’re sure?” He checks, and you instinctively nod. His eyebrow twitches upward, and you know he’s going to say something about using real words, so you beat him to the punch. “I’m sure!”

He grins at you, sparkle in his eyes before he’s climbing into position, moving all the pillows away from the headboard and settling in the now empty space, he taps his cheeks and instructs you to; “Come on up.”

It’s a silly attempt at adding humour to the situation, but you find yourself suddenly filled with doubt and stuttering. “You want me to sit on your face?” You’d thought you might start with a less constraining position. “Won’t that be uncomfortable, for you?”

“Nah.” He shakes his head. “And if it does get uncomfortable, I’ll tap your leg 3 times, sound good?”

“Okay, sounds good.” You agree, still hesitant, but Dicks eagerness is contagious, the way he’s watching you with those lust-filled eyes makes you want to give him whatever he wants, and he’s never failed to deliver in the bedroom depart previously, so you hitch your leg and situate your knees either side of his head, your cunt hovers just above his face.

It isn’t until you feel his long, calloused fingers hook into your underwear and shift them to the side that you even realise you’d forgotten to remove them. You make to apologise, but he distracts you by running his index finger between your folds, lingering over your clit, he adds his middle finger and pulls apart your lips, exposing your entrance.

“Fuuuckk.” He breathes, “Such a pretty pussy. Can you bring it closer for me?”

Fuuuckk is right. The genuine affection in his voice has you nearly trembling as you lower yourself until you feel his warm breath brushing between your legs, the combination of air on moisture making the area tingle, but Dick’s still not satisfied.

“You don’t need to worry. It’s not too different to things we’ve done before. I’m only going to put my fingers in here.” To demonstrate his point, he sheaths one finger inside you in one quick motion and pumps it in and out, gradually building speed each time. “You like that, don’t you?”

“Oh, god, yes!” You confirm, unconsciously rocking your hips, trying to coax him deeper inside you.

“Yeeahh.” He hums, pressing the bud of his thumb against your clit, immediately sending a wave of pleasure through you in a way that makes you flinch. He chases your body with his hand, maintaining the friction between your legs. “And I’m gonna use my mouth here, sometimes I’ll swap but it’s gonna feel just like this, only better. I promise.”

Then his hand is gone, its withdrawal leaving you ten times needier than you had been when he’d started. You take a few deep breaths to calm yourself before settling further down, you don’t stop until you can feel his nose poking between your lips. You’re rewarded by the muffled sound of Dick’s voice praising you from below; “Good girl.” Then one hand locks onto your thigh, not hard enough to force you in place, but firm enough to convey the message.

From there, you’re partly expecting an assault, but it doesn’t come. Instead, Dick slowly works his tongue from your entrance to your clit, letting out a lewd, glutaral groan in the process. “You taste so sweet.”

If you weren’t already flushed, that would have done it. You open your mouth to thank him, but as you do so he latches his mouth around your clit and sucks. That does not feel like anything you’ve done before, but it does feel fantastic. All you manage is a whimper as you clench your fists into the top of the headboard to ground yourself.

You hear a wet pop as Dick releases his suction, and returns to lapping at your sweet spot, eliciting shorter and raspier pants from you with each flick and circle of his tongue. He’s experimenting, changing up the pressure, alternating between slick darts with the tip of his tongue, and wet, sweeping motions that seem to consume your entire core until he finds the perfect move-set that has your toes curling and your hips bucking. An orgasm is quickly building, blood boiling, clit aching when he pulls back, sinking lower on the bed to slip his tongue into your entrance before you hit your precipice.

Stunned at the sudden change, you look down at him, he peeks out from between your legs, eyes fierce, amused in a way that sends a chill down your spine. Without warning he replaces his tongue with two fingers, plunging much deeper than he had the last time, and spreading them out to push against your walls despite their resolve to clench around him.

He loves the way you look right now, flustered, frustrated, lost to anything but his touch. He wants to push, to tease you more, wants to refuse to let you cum until you really ride his face, until you beg, but he’s worried about taking things too far on your first time, because most of all he wants you to feel good and comfortable. Not to mention, if he plays his cards right, makes this easy and unforgettable; you’ll want more, and then he can have his way. So, he settles for ghosting kisses along the soft skin of your inner thigh and says the only other thing that’s on his mind without filter; “Don’t worry baby, I’m gonna make you cum. I’m gonna make you cum so hard no one else will ever compare.”

You’re so blissed out, rocking back and forth on his fingers, he’s not even sure you heard him. He wells with pride for a moment, his pretty girl so fucked out already, glowing under a sheen of sweat, all because of him.

“Did you hear me?” He accentuates his point by slowing his fingers and you whine as you lazily nod at him, upper body heavy and disjointed as your lower half keeps trying to fuck itself.

“Yes, Dick.” The distress in your voice is music to his ears, it makes his already hardened cock throb. Pleased by your reaction he presses his thumb to your clit, simulating the motions he’d used earlier. “P-please.”

“You don’t have to beg, baby.” But it's highly appreciated, if your mind was less fuzzy from the dual simulation you might have noticed the way he laughs when he talks. “Have you ever squirted before?”

It’s so hard to answer when he makes you feel so good, when all you can think about is how much better this would feel if he used his mouth again. Knowing the only way that will happen is by answering, you muster all the brain capacity you have left to shake your head and stammer; “No… Tried but couldn’t do it myself.”

“Can you shift onto your feet for me? That’s it.” He coos. It kills you to pull away because you already feel so good, but he watches you with so much adoration as you follow his instructions it makes your heart feel as fuzzy as your puffy clit, makes it bearable. “Just like that, perfect, my perfect girl.”

You can’t lower yourself as much in this new position, but that doesn’t seem to bother Dick who latches his mouth back onto your clit, re-finding this rhythm in an instant and filling your swollen centre with a third digit.  He moans repeatedly into your folds as he works, loudly savouring your taste, memorising every fold and spasm. He alternates between sucking and lapping until the most incredible, white-hot feeling begins to surge through your body. You throw your head back, eyes squeezed shut, hands haphazard abandoning the headboard in favour of Dicks soft black hair.

Just when you think things can’t possibly feel any more intense you feel the turning point, the undeniable feel of Dick smiling into your folds is followed by the deliberate curl of his fingers, brazenly rubbing your g-spot in long, fast strokes, exiting you completely and plummeting right back to the bundle of nerves each time until it hits you.    

“D-Dick I-” Your climax washes over you before the words can leave your lips. Your muscles grow tense, nails biting into your palms through the trestles of Dicks hair you’re clinging onto. Your chest is heaving, and you couldn’t lift your lids long enough to look at the stream of watery cum flowing out of you if you wanted to.

You know it’s a lot, it’s wild, because you can feel droplets of it splash back onto your stomach, can feel it pooling into the limited space between your searing, sensitive skin, and Dick’s face. He hasn’t let up for a second. Intent on riding you through your high and soaking up as much of you as he can manage. Even when you’re over the hump, he keeps going, noisily slurping at your dripping, oversensitive heat. It’s hard to tell if you���re shaking from the intensity of your orgasm, or the continued abuse of your oversensitive cunt.

“Dick?” You call, weakly pulling at his scalp. He gets the message, finally detaching from your southern regions and shuffling from between your legs until you can get a good view of his face.

His hairs askew, cheeks pink, pupils seemingly even more dilated than they had been when you started, if at all possible. Every inch of skin from the tip of his nose to his nipple’s sheens under a mixture of spit, slick, and cum, and he’s staring at you like he’s a man starved. “I’m not done yet.”

Your bedroom flies by in a blur as Dick plants his hands on your thighs and uses them to support you while he rolls you back and between his legs. His member brushes against your folds briefly, sparking yet another ripple of arousal you didn’t think your body could muster amongst its already frenzies post-orgasm overexcitement, but as soon as you feel it, it’s gone again. You catch a glimpse of Dick rearranging it, tucking it low and out of the way before he crawls between your open legs again.

“I promised you it would be memorable.” He reminds you, leaning in closer. He grips onto the now drenched pair of panties he’d hiked to the side earlier and finally removes them before licking a testing strip from bottom to top just like the first time, enjoying greatly how wet and puffy it is, how you can’t keep from shivering, how you breath catches. “You did so good baby, but I’m not gonna stop eating your perfect pussy ‘til one of us can't stand it any more, an’ it’s not gonna be me.”

[darylssunshine]

I need ya.

Summary: Daryl helps you fall asleep after trying to fight it.

Genre: Fluff

Word count: 0.7k

Era: Alexandria

A/N: I just really want Daryl cuddles and to fall asleep with him. This is purely self-indulgent.

~~~~~

It was a rare moment of peace in Alexandria. All of the residents were either safe in their houses or fast asleep in their warm beds, a luxury in a world like this. No walkers were breaking through their fortified walls, no enemies were hot on their trail and waiting to strike until morning, nothing coming through the gates to disrupt the silence. The people of Alexandria made themselves known to Rick’s group in a moment of weakness. They accepted them and let them adapt to their way of living, and Rick and the rest of the group would be forever grateful for that, no matter how long it took for them to trust the other group. These four walls separating them from the cruel outside world and provided them with a sense of safety, and Alexandria’s inhabitants had to bask in that whenever they had the chance. 

That’s what was happening now, in the house that held you and Daryl. While the autumn winds pressed on, you two were shielded and warm. A crackling fire lit up the living room while Daryl sat in the corner of the slightly tattered couch, you on his lap. His arm was resting on the subsequent arm of the couch while the other hand was playing with your hair, twirling the strands in his fingertips and occasionally scratching your scalp. Each time he did, it earned a small sigh from you nuzzled against his chest, and then earning a small chuckle from Daryl.

Today had been one of those days where Daryl got more sleep than you did. You had work that had to be done with stocking the food on account of falling behind the day before, and you were beat. The warmth of the fire combined with the warmth radiating from Daryl’s torso was slowly lulling you into a tired state, but Daryl didn’t need to know that. You wanted to spend as much time with him as possible. 

“Ya gettin’ tired, sweetheart?”

Shit.

Immediately after those words registered in your sleep-addled brain, you sat up and looked Daryl in the eyes, your own being forcefully widened so he believed your ruse. “Nope. Nope. Not one bit.”

Daryl removed the hand that was previously on your hair and moved it behind his head, slightly looking down on you. He chuckled again. “Ya sure?”

Your mouth quirked up in a smile. “Yep. Wide awake.”

“Mhm. Sure ya are.”

He placed his hand back on your scalp and started massaging it at a slow but consistent pace, his soft, blue eyes never leaving yours. Your eyes on the other hand started to get very heavy, like someone was physically pulling them down, something you couldn’t control. Daryl let out a deep chuckle. “What was tha’ about not bein’ tired?

“Shut up.” You said in a breathy manner, stubbornly still trying to look him in the eyes.

His large hand guided you to his chest again. “Get some sleep, sunshine. I’ll be here when ya wake up. Promise.” His voice was soft, but sincere. You’d believe anything he said in this state.

You nuzzled back into his chest, his words making you smile. “Your chest vibrates when you talk. It’s like a cat purring.” You rambled, your voice coated with tiredness. You said it unconsciously, your filter being almost nonexistent with you being on the verge of sleep. 

He smirked. “Oh yeah? You like it?”

“Mhm.”

“Want me to keep talkin’?”

“Mhm.”

He sighed before he continued. “Back before we found ya, I was nothin’. I was tryin’ to deal with all the shit that went down, but I didn’t handle it well. I was a mess, killin’ myself in the process. But you helped me deal with all that. You got me to open up to ya. Every time I see ya, I get like, this feelin’ in my stomach. I know, romance movie bullshit. It’s been happenin’ since the day we found ya in that cabin. And now, I feel like I can’t live without ya. I feel like I’m empty without you, fightin’ by my side. And I’m scared ‘cause that’s never happened before, and I don’t wanna mess it up. I need ya- I- I love ya, (Y/N.)” 

Daryl then heard a soft snore come from below his head. 

He blew some air through his nose in an amused manner and kissed you on the top of the head. “I'll always be there for ya, sunshine.”

[konpeitonom]

I was wondering if I could ask for some fluffy (+ nsfw if youre comfortable) headcanons about recovered/rescued curly x reader? I’ve seen very few fics about him and I’m so madly in love with him (particularly how ladonb.kokosa on tiktok draws him).

I think Curly would feel guilty about dating and sex because of his disabilities, inaction, and trauma but the reader is still head over heels for him anyway ❤️‍🩹

recovered/rescued captain grant curly headcanons.

sfw/nsfw — lowercase intended ^_^

g/n reader - no pronouns mentioned

requests are open and heavily encouraged, i write for every mw character ^.^

notes; i daydream about this exact curly too!! oh god i love this artist.. writing this in the perspective of you were his spouse previously. let me know if you’d like it if you met him afterwards :)

these r also a bit short so maybe a part 2 if i’m up for it/anyone else would want it. not proofread i never will sorry. this is my 3rd post today i am insane and happy to write!

.. nsfw section is written from the perspective of me, a girl, so sorry men if you cannot relate or feels it doesn’t apply to you too much. i try my best as a non-writer haha. minors don’t read that part thank you please…

here he is in his late forties - early fifties.

SFW

— he feels an intense amount of emotions knowing you waited as long as you did for him— that in those 15-20 years he was gone you didn’t move on *at all?*.. to come back in the state he was in, he felt a lot of guilt.

— he feels even more guilt when you saw him in said state, and still stayed with him throughout the multiple surgeries and months in the hospital.

— that smile of yours always cheered him up. and your reassurance was most comforting. he was lucky to have you as you are lucky to have him.

— curly felt as if he’d have to overcompensate for lost time. he’d plan dates, give you flowers, gift you chocolates or candies you liked. small things like that. he did it often pre-crash but he now does it enough to where it’s still a little special when he does.

— it would take him a long time to tell you what happened, truly. for legal reasons i’d assume he’d have to tell government officials, the media, or some kind of authority what had happened — but the details of it, id take a lot of time for him to speak about. he’d have to speak to a therapist about it first.

— when it came to his inaction, that and the immense survivors guilt he likely holds, he would be scared you’d leave. he’d be upset if you tried to justify his actions too. he knows what he did was wrong. and he doesn’t need you or anyone to tell him otherwise.

— i’m sure curly would donate a lot of the money he receives from media attention, that or encourage people to donate to charities that focus on gender based violence or sexual assault victims. he feels owed too. it’s the very least he could do now.

— back to his relationship with you.. sometimes all he wants is you. sometimes all he wants is to cry in bed as you’re there with him. your mere presence, all of you, is a huge comfort for him.

— he loves that you’re still your happy, old self. and he understands, he’d probably be happy too if someone you thought was dead just came back.

— if i recall correctly, he was in that state for 5 months? most of the time, if anya wasn’t there replacing his bandages or nursing him- he was most likely alone. he doesn’t like the thought of that. and therefore doesn’t want to ever be alone again.

— if you’d allow him, he wants to feel you all over. not in a sexual way. he wants to touch your arms, your fingers, your neck, your cheeks, your face. the feeling of you in his arms feels like gods blessing im sure.

— he’d ask about you. he’s so excited too. he wants updates to your life, your family. what do you like to do now? what’s changed since? do you still like this and that?

— he feels upset that he missed out on those parts of your life, but at the same time he knows that you probably kept him in his heart all those times without him.

— help him get back into his old hobbies!! keep him physically active. update him on all the video games he’s missed, all the movies he’s missed. movie days are probably his favorites. keep him busy.

NSFW

minors do not read

— i believe a strap-on device has to be used, or toys. he is open to all, but he’d enjoy using his hands to please you. it feels more intimate and close. he loves nothing more than touching you— in any way.

— he is old, ok. he lacks stamina, 1 round is enough for him- as long as it’s enough for you. but he is very experienced.

— hand holder!! he loves to hold your hand during sex.. this is canon. i am wrongorgan. he’d rub your palms as you shake, asking “is this okay? does that feel good?” .. please reassure him he thinks it’s the sexiest thing ever.

— uses your facial expressions to reassure himself. he thinks it’s cute when you bite your tongue to suppress your moans. or when your face is all flushed and sweaty. that means hes doing a good job.

— eye contact.. please make eye contact with him. he does struggle a bit with loving himself (especially assuming this is a 1-3 years after he was rescued), but as long as you love him then he shouldn’t have reason to worry.

— loves it when you place your hands on his face, caress his jawline as he fucks you slowly. i think he also likes it when your hands scratch his back. again, it tells him he’s doing a good job.

— i think it’s obvious with the way i write him but he loves talking during sex. i mean, he likes incoherent noises too- just as much as he does talking. but your words mean so much to him. and there’s just so much he wants to say.

— like.. “god, you’re so cute. have you always been like this, sweetheart?” !! he is a gentleman, ok?

— he still prefers a dominant role. he is a service top if i’ve ever seen one. even before the crash, sex is all about you, you, you, then maybe him.

— for the first few times he would be extremely careful and gentle. intimacy is not something he likes to rush. after he gets a bit more comfortable he’d be open to exploring again. like you did as younger adults, but still. he’s old and you’re probably old too ^.^

— feels like he has to make up for all the times you were probably lonely, sexually, the time he was missing.

[phone4pills]

DEAR SANTA DAY 1

𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ slow’s advent calendar! no warnings apart from some venting, don’t try this btw, stranger danger

You felt so stupid when you dropped your letter in the postbox. Your friends had dared you to write a Christmas wish list and mail it to a random address in a random state. You’d spun a wheel and landed on Massachusetts. So you’d written your letter to a random home there, in Boston specifically. And you’d drawn pretty pink and red bows on the envelope, hoping whoever received it would like them. At first it didn’t seem like a huge deal but now that you were actually stood in front of the crimson post box, no way to turn back time and get your letter out of the pile, your nerves were spiking off the chart.

You took a deep breath, shoving your hand a back into the pockets of your coat and walked away, deciding that you wouldn’t look back at that darned post box, only following the snowy trail ahead of your feet.

Four days later - Sturniolo’s Home

Matt hurried downstairs towards the sound of the doorbell. The rest of his family had left the house to buy Christmas secret santa gifts for each other. He’d already ordered his online for Chris. A cameo from one of his favourite celebrities and a chain with his name on it. He also had a Lego set in his room that he’d been meaning to give his brother, so he would add that in too.

When he opened the door, he was surprised to find a postman with an envelope addressed to their house but nobody specifically. It was nicely decorated with some bows on the back so it wasn’t something serious like bills or anything to do with a business. And there was no parcel with it. Only the envelope. He thanked the postman and closed the door, almost scared to unveil what was inside.

The envelope sat on his desk for a few hours. And he stared at it. Longer and longer. Until the corners began to curve and he was seeing multiple shades in the plain white folded paper. He wanted to wait for Chris and Nick to get home so they could open it together. But the temptation was eating away at him. And he couldn’t resist anymore, reaching across the room to grab it and settling down on the end of his bed.

His fingers played with the opening for a bit until he eventually tore the envelope open and pulled out a folded bit or cream card. A deep breath racked through Matt’s throat as he unfolded the piece and read the note.

Dear Santa,

Whoever you may be, I hope you’re having a great time these holidays. I’ve never been the biggest fan of this time of year but I promised myself I’d be more outgoing so I’m writing this to you, Santa Stranger, hoping you’ll read it someday, preferably before Christmas.

I really wish for good grades in college this year and success in the future so the job I work to pay off my student loans is all worth it. I hope that I can finally buy the camera I’ve had my eye on for a while and take capture loads of memories with my friends, and my grandma because she’s getting older and I always want her with me.

But most of all, I hope that Christmas this year feels as magical as it was when I was a kid. The lead up to the holidays is always so exciting but I feel like I keep getting let down now that I’m older. I hope that this Christmas can be different, enchanting.

I admit, I have yet to buy presents for a lot of people. Especially the boys and men in my life. I swear it’s so hard to shop for the male population. If by any chance you might have some ideas, I’d appreciate them. That’s in the scenario that this reaches you in time and you can get it back to me before the 24th, which I kind of really hope it does.

That’s all for now. Until next time, Santa.

- Signed, Elf

A grin spread across Matt’s face and his eyebrows, that were previously knitted together, softened. He was ultimately in awe, unable to deny how genius he thought the whole scheme was. And he wondered what the chances were that this ended up at his house, of all the houses in America. He found your address on the back of the slip and made a start writing his letter back as quickly as he could.

He’d been meaning to talk to someone about Christmas in more depth. He’d talked about it a little bit with his brothers on their YouTube channel during the lead up to the winter season, but he’d never truly gotten to express how he felt about the time of year. And now he was given a perfect opportunity. There were no ties to it. No judgment. Only honesty, and he liked that.

Three days later - Your Home

You’d received a green envelope in your postbox with smiley faces drawn all over it. Instantly, you knew what it was. You’d almost completely forgotten about the message you’d shipped off previously and had your doubts about it being returned.

Hurriedly, you ran across the hallway and threw yourself down on the couch, giving your cat a few head rubs before peeling open the casing around a piece of white card.

Dear Elf,

I wish you’d seen my face when I opened your letter. I won’t lie and say I wasn’t frightful when I was handed the envelope. The bows are really pretty by the way, you must be a good doodler. I doodle a lot too, especially when I’m feeling particularly anxious about things.

Speaking of relations and similarities, I’m glad I’m not the only one who’s had a good few thoughts on Christmas this year, and the last few. Maybe some magical force directed your message to me so I’d have somewhere to write down all of my thoughts. I’d have someone to tell without the weight of being judged in person.

I’m not that good at writing if you couldn’t tell already but I’m trying my best. I hope this year’s holiday season is like a breath of fresh air from all of the stress that’s polluting my life. I feel like I just need to feel free to feel Christmas. And I’m grateful for all I have of course, but it’d be nice to get away from all of the hate and negativity that comes with it.

About college, I never actually went but I wish the best for you. You should tell me about it. And be honest, I want to know all the details. I don’t have much time before my parents and my brother get home but before I forget, women are ten times harder to shop for than men!

Anyway, I got my brother a silver chain with his name on it and a cameo for secret Santa this year. I’m also throwing a Lego set in there. I don’t know if that’s helpful in any way, but it’s all the knowledge I have to offer. At the end of the day, any gift is a gift in the end. And it will be appreciated.

I wish you a Merry Christmas and I hope that all of your wishes come true. I think everybody needs a little bit of holiday magic this winter. Please do keep writing back to me if it’s possible. I’ve been needing something like this without even knowing.

Can’t wait to hear back. Until next time, my Elf.

- Signed, Santa

Thanks for reading ! There will be a Chris fic to come on the 3rd. Meanwhile, I have something else planned for tomorrow my lovelies. And a warm welcome to Slow’s Advent Calendar everyone.

- ©phone4pills

[sjwallin]

I was reminded of this awesome music video and original song I put together a short while ago with some wonderful human beings. 🥰 It’s a part of a chamber opera I’m in the process of finishing. You can also stream the song everywhere.

The scene takes place in the United States circa 1903, at a time when women were just beginning to populate the social areas previously reserved for men. To guard against “mashers” who were simply afraid of seeing so many women outside the home, many women trusted their protection to their hatpins, a dangerous fashion accessory that was common in this time period.

Lyrics:

Lyrics:

Our numbers are what scares ‘em,

The sheer numbers of young women on the street.

Without a male escort, we’re just lambs for the slaughter,

...unwitting red meat.

They’re just not used to seeing women outside, away from home, In the workplace, in the factories,

Living our life, as we see fit, all on our own.

Mashers, beware!

You speak words of endearment that are making my skin crawl.

But on this small, crowded streetcar, I’m no helpless prey.

When your hand goes a-wand’ring,

Don’t need no man to rescue me.

Get too close and I’ll punish your sin,

Thanks to my trusty hatpin.

We are here and we’re here to stay!

In my mother’s generation,

Showing ankle was risqué.

Keep her in the home, out of sight and locked away.

Public sites for cultured men, private spaces for all women.

But when cities rise and jobs expand,

Why can’t we take the jobs you won’t?

You don’t like to see us, thriving on our own,

Earning our keep without deferring to a man.

So you take it out on us when you see us on the street.

Mashers, beware!

You speak words of obsession that are making my skin crawl.

But on this small, crowded streetcar, I’m no helpless prey.

When your hand goes a-wand’ring,

Don’t need no man to rescue me.

Get too close and I’ll punish your sin,

Thanks to my trusty hatpin.

We are here and we’re here to stay!

My hatpin is a symbol of evolving social norms.

You’d better get used to women joining men as equals.

Pursuing an education, Working for a living, Ruling our lives,

Crossing the street.

Get too close and I’ll punish your sin,

Thanks to my trusty hatpin.

We are here and we’re here to stay!

We are here and we’re here to stay!

Credits:

Words & Music by Sarah Wallin Huff. Recorded in So. CA 2022-23.

Claire Fedoruk (soprano), Vanessa Alexis Gomez (mezzo-soprano), Sarah Wallin Huff (Alto/Electric Violin), Michael Jung (piano), Shannon Canchola (flute), Linda Silva (clarinet), Anne Sherrill (cello).

[sluttyten]

limited time only

Kinktober Day 2 | Jaemin Masterlist | Member Masterlist

tags: supernatural creature, semi-public sex, beach sex, nudist jaemin, wax play, grinding, riding, a little play on the myth of Eros and Psyche,

length: 4707

The first day you saw the man come from the sea, you thought your eyes were deceiving you. He came from the water, all golden skin and dripping with glistening saltwater, entirely nude save for the gray folded fabric he carried in one hand.

Typically, in your time living in this coastal town, seeing a naked man walking along the beach is cause for concern. However, when the naked man walking towards you has just emerged from the sea looking like a sea god, it’s a little more difficult to take issue with.

It’s difficult to look away from him — his windswept, damp hair is the color of midnight; his handsome face reminds you of Renaissance artwork; his broad shoulders are just a prelude to the rest of the masterful composition of his body; his waist tapers in, accentuating his toned abdomen, drawing your gaze downward along a fine dark trail of hair….

You tear your gaze away from him, looking back down at the fluttering pages of the book you had been reading up until his magnificent emergence.

God. He’s beautiful.

When you glance up again, he’s no longer in front of you, and you’re a little scared to look at the rest of the beach behind you. If you risk another look at him, you’re worried that you might not be able to tear your gaze away. So instead you do your damnedest to focus on the book you’d been thoroughly enjoying prior to his appearance.

But your mind keeps wandering back to the shape of the man, which stirs heat low in your belly. And then there’s just your simple curiosity — you’ve not seen that man before; is he just a tourist that’s mistaken this beach as a nude beach? Is he just an exhibitionist? What’s his story?

After a while, you give up on making any further progress in your book, and you begin to pack up your things to leave.

A shadow falls over your blanket, and you tilt your head, lifting your hand to shield your eyes from the bright sunlight. And you look up and up and up, until finally your eyes settle on the face of the sea man. He’s dressed now, regardless of the state that you’d previously seen him in, and he’s smiling now — a dazzling, charismatic grin that sets your heart racing.

“Hello,” he greets you. His voice is surprisingly deep, yet soft-toned. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I just saw what book you were reading, and I’ve been meaning to pick it up, but I was just wondering if it’s any good? I’ve heard some controversial opinions about it.”

Oh. The ocean god reads and he looks like that? The news is devastating to your quickly developing crush on this man.

It turns out you have more in common with him than just that singular book. For the next few hours, you sit together on your little blanket on the beach and talk, laugh, and you pray that it’s not your imagination that he seems equally as interested in you as you are in him. You learn that he’s not from around here, he’s just visiting for the first time in seven years. He’s an only child. He likes to read, to people-watch, to sing and dance, to take photographs to truly capture the human experience. He laughs when you tell him that sounds like something a really passionate artist would say.

As the sun begins to lower towards the horizon, you realize just how late it’s become. You’ve actually got plans with your friends for dinner that you’ll be late to if you don’t hurry.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes, “I didn’t mean to keep you.” He stands up, freeing up your blanket as you’re shoving your things into your bag.

“You’re alright! I just lost track of time. I’ve enjoyed talking with you. Um.” You pause, your blanket wadded up in your hands, and you look up at him. “Actually, I’m sorry. We’ve been talking for hours, and I just realized, I’ve not asked your name.”

He smiles, the warmth of it matching the setting sun behind you. “My name is Jaemin.”

Jaemin, the sea god.

And, because you really like him a lot, you put yourself forward, and you ask him for his number.

“If I had a phone, I definitely would give you my number.” Jaemin looks genuinely apologetic. “But, seeing as I don’t have a phone, we could meet back here tomorrow, same time?”

And that’s good enough for you.

You run off, have dinner with your friends during which you tell them about your mysterious beach man, giggle like you’re all young girls with a crush, and that night you dream of Jaemin.

You wake with his name on your lips, heat racing beneath your skin.

Hours later, you’re again sitting on the beach on your blanket. Again, you’re holding a book, though today you’re so utterly distracted by the prospect of seeing Jaemin again that you can’t focus on a single word on the page. And then you hear a gasp from a woman sitting a short distance away.

There he is.

Jaemin, rising again from the water, again nude.

Luckily, you’d brought a towel along today, and as Jaemin strides up the beach towards you, you toss the towel at him.

“Is this a common thing for you?” You ask as he wraps the towel around his waist. He drops something dark and damp down in the sand beside your blanket before he sinks down to sit with you. This close to him, you find it a little difficult to fully focus. “The… skinny-dipping at a public beach?”

Jaemin smiles, pushes his fingers through his damp hair. “Does it bother you?”

“Not really.” It gives you the opportunity to admire him.

“Alright, then.” Jaemin reaches over, his fingers brushing the backs of your hands. “What are we reading today?”

So again you sit there with Jaemin for hours and hours, talking and occasionally taking a brief trip down into the water to cool off.

Jaemin, despite his manner of arrival earlier, never goes into the water above mid-calf, just content to stand and watch as you wade out into the water. His gaze rushes hungrily over your skin when you walk out of the water towards him — seawater runs in sun-silvered rivulets down your chest and your stomach and your thighs. He never strays far from your beach blanket, keeping it always within sight, which you appreciate him keeping an eye on your things while you’re out in the water.

You stay on the beach all day and into the twilight hour before you make a brief excursion into town to pick up some dinner, some drinks, and then you return back to your blanket where Jaemin is still waiting. 

Some time later, in between the drinks, you grow bold enough to lean closer and kiss him. Jaemin, to your absolute delight, eagerly kisses you back. It doesn’t stop there of course. Once you’ve had one taste of kissing this godly man that washed up on your beach, you can’t wait to have more.

You don’t care that you’re in public, out in the open on the beach where anyone can walk by. You pull Jaemin over you – drinks, dinner, books forgotten – and you encourage his hands to wander under the edges of your bikini; your fingers push loose the towel he still wears bound around his hips. The town lies silent behind you while you moan into each other's mouths, touching each other, grinding on the blanket in the sand.

“Jaemin,” you gasp his name as he finally lets his body settle between your hips; his heavy cock rubs forward against your heat. “Jaemin, please, just put it inside me.”

He drops his mouth to your shoulder, teeth nipping lightly as he grinds forward once again, slow and teasing before he just – 

“Fuck, right there, Jaemin!” You twist one hand into his hair, the other drags your nails down his back. 

His cock is magnificent, feels so perfect inside you.

You hold him close, muffling your moans by biting his shoulder, and he buries his sounds in your hair or against your lips. 

You forget that you’re on the beach, fucking out in the open, but even when the crashing of the waves or the sound of a car passing by on the road reaches through your sex-fueled haze, you can’t bring yourself to care that someone might see, might hear.

Jaemin pulls out just before he cums with a low moan of your name. His forehead rests against your chest as he rapidly strokes his cock, striping the blanket between your thighs with his cum. And then he’s lowering himself down, burying his head between your thighs – two fingers pumping inside you, his tongue at your clit – and the vibration of his moans against your clit quickly has your thighs quaking around his ears, your orgasm cresting and crashing over you like the waves battering the shore behind him.

You collapse, a molten puddle of satisfaction in the sand. Your heart races, pulse thundering in your ears.

“I think you need to come home with me,” you pant, trying to recover your breath. You’re halfway joking, but at the same time, you dearly want Jaemin to come back to your place, to tumble you once more in your bed, to wake up beside you in the morning and do this again. “I make a great breakfast, if you’d like to come over, stay the night, and try it in the morning?”

Jaemin lifts himself up, sliding up alongside your body, and he drags one of your thighs up over his hip. “I’d like that,” he says, pressing a quick kiss to your lips. 

So, you pull your bikini back into place. You pack your things back into your bag. Jaemin wraps the towel around his waist again, and it’s only as you start to walk away from the beach into town – you live only a ten minute walk away – that you realize Jaemin is carrying with him that dark fabric that you’d noticed him carrying out of the water with him yesterday and earlier today. You wonder what it is, and if it’s clothing then why is he still wearing only your towel.

You let him rinse off in your shower while you tidy your room – putting away clean laundry you’d left piled on the foot of your bed, kicking dirty clothes out of sight, hiding the embarrassing seal plushie that you’ve slept with since you were seven. 

After Jaemin emerges, clean and smelling like your lavender body wash, you take a quick shower – washing sand out of places it certainly doesn’t belong. You can hear Jaemin walking around, the creaking of the floor in your house as he probably looks at your bookshelves, the photographs of your family and friends hung on the walls, your collection of knickknacks.

He’s occupied, so you linger in the bathroom a moment longer to text your friends from the evening before about the details of your day – meeting up again with him, spending all day with him, how he’s a tourist but he’s been here before seven years ago, how he weirdly carries like a wad of gray fabric with him, how you had sex on the beach, and he’s now waiting for you in your bedroom.

You expect them to be excited for you. A few of them respond just as enthusiastically as you’d hoped, but one friend is a spoilsport about the whole thing.

“That’s sorta weird right?” she sends in the groupchat. “Him coming out of the ocean like that, all mysterious and from out of town?”

Is she accusing you or lying, making up a handsome man that sounds like a fantasy?

“What is he a selkie lol” another friend says.

“My grammy used to scare my sisters and I with stories of selkies,” the first one says, “Warning us that selkie men would appear on the beach and steal us away into the sea to drown us and steal our souls.”

“Your grammy was a hippie, babe, I think she tripped a little too hard in the old days and never quite recovered,” one of your friends says in response to that.

You’re still stuck on what she’s talking about. A selkie. What’s a selkie?

You ignore the notifications from the group chat and instead search up ‘selkie,’ uncertain what you’re going to find. 

You certainly don’t expect to find your friend accusing Jaemin of being a shapeshifter, but it turns out that’s exactly what a selkie is – a supernatural being that resembles a seal in one form, and upon shedding its skin becomes human. She’s ridiculous for planting such a notion in your head, and when you check back into the groupchat, you find it’s grown even more ridiculous.

Some of them are joking that your sudden silence is because your new selkie boyfriend has taken you out to sea. One of them is jokingly asking if he’s got webbed fingers and toes. And the one who started all of this is actually sending messages like she genuinely believes Jaemin could be a part seal-part human creature.

“If he’s a selkie, he’s got to have his seal skin somewhere nearby. It’s how they transform back. My grammy used to say that they can only come to land every seven years, but if someone hides their seal skin they’ll be forced to stay on land. She said they’re really seductive creatures, which is how they lure poor innocents out into the sea, but it backfires on them because sometimes the one they seduce will be the one to hide their seal skin, and they’re stuck here. She once read a legend that selkies have a mark on their hip like this:” and then she sent a badly scribbled drawing that looks like spirals swirling together. 

“You’re so ridiculous. All of you,” you send, “Goodnight.”

You shut your phone off, leave the bathroom, and find Jaemin sitting on the edge of your bed, looking at the seal plushie that you clearly hadn’t hidden well enough.

“This is cute,” he says. “Friend of yours?”

You pluck it quickly from his grasp, tossing it over towards a reading chair you have shoved into the corner of your room by the window. You offer the excuse of, “A childhood memory, that’s all,” before you place yourself in Jaemin’s lap, curl your fingers against the back of his neck, and you press your mouth to his.

Jaemin welcomes the kiss, opening up to let you take control while he tips backwards until he’s lying with his head among your pillows. You make out with him, rolling around in your bed, touching each other again like you’d done on the beach until your sheets are rumpled and the hour is late.

Jaemin falls asleep before you do, his soft snores filling the quiet space between you. 

You want to fall asleep, to slip into dreams, but your mind won’t settle. Your thoughts keep turning back to your group chat, your silly friend with her even sillier accusations. And the more you think about it, the more things about Jaemin line up with the things she was saying about selkies.

But the main odd and unexplainable thing that sticks out to you is the thing she said about selkies and their seal skins. Jaemin has that dark gray fabric or whatever that he’s carried with him almost every time you’ve seen him. He had it when he rose out of the sea both times, carrying it with him all the way here.

What if you find it? It’s somewhere in your house. You could just go take a look, see what it is, put aside any silly thoughts you’re beginning to have.

Jaemin shifts a little when you roll away from him, but he doesn’t wake. His eyes are closed, snores still pouring from him. You tiptoe from your bedroom to the front door where he’d dropped the towel as soon as he stepped inside.

You can’t see anything in the dark, and you left your phone back on your bedside table. The next best thing is a candle sitting on your kitchen table. You light it, and by the warm glow, you search the floor. There’s the towel and your abandoned flipflops. It’s only now that you realize Jaemin didn’t even have shoes. He truly came out of the water with nothing but the mysterious dark gray thing. 

And you can’t find it. You climb the stairs back towards your bedroom quietly, scanning the shadows of each step to see if maybe it somehow got carried up here. You check the landing and the hall. Finally, you peek into your bathroom. 

The mirror above the sink magnifies the light of the flame, making it easier as you check the floor here. There’s your abandoned clothes from before your shower. There’s your towel from after your shower. In the corner behind the door, tucked almost completely out of sight, is the towel you’d handed Jaemin before his shower. It sits crumpled on the floor, covering most of something dark and gray. 

You crouch down, pulling the towel away, revealing Jaemin’s only possession.

You touch it.

Whatever it is, it feels like velvet. 

You lift it up into the light reflected by the mirror. It’s not any particular shape – not identifiable as a piece of clothing, nor as a blanket or towel. You don’t know what the shape is, and the velvety texture of it combined with the darkness seems to swallow the candlelight, making it even more difficult to make out anything identifiable about it.

Seeing this thing – the potential seal skin of a potential selkie currently sleeping in your bed – hasn’t cleared up anything at all. If anything, you’re even more confused and on-the-fence about your friend’s accusation. 

But there’d been that last thing she said.

The mark of a selkie, found on the hip. 

You’ve been too swept up in enjoying Jaemin to even notice any marking on his body, but according to your friend and her grammy, that mark would let you identify him.

So, fully aware of how ridiculous you’re being and of how awkward this will be to explain, you pick up the candle and head back to your bedroom.

Jaemin is still asleep on his back, one arm thrown above his head, the sheets pool around his abdomen. You hold your breath while you look at him.

He’s beautiful.

Just looking at him right now you want to jump his bones, pull away the sheet to touch him, get him hard, and ride him. 

You think again of what your friend sent in the groupchat earlier, how she said that selkies apparently have great powers of seduction. Is Jaemin exuding some supernatural selkie power of seduction, or are you just really horny for the hot naked guy in your bed?

You come to stand on his side of the bed, and you lean over him, reaching out to nudge away the sheet, searching his bare skin for any sign of any weird marks. All you can see as you slowly drag the sheet down are the marks you’ve unintentionally left on him – hickeys, marks from your fingernails – and more normal things like freckles, hairs, moles arranged like constellations.

Oh.

A spiral-shaped constellation of moles low on his pelvis.

You gasp, tilting the candle to get a better look.

Hot wax spills, pouring over the edge of the candle, landing on Jaemin’s stomach.

His eyes flash open, and in an instant he’s sitting upright. One of his hands has a vice grip on your wrist holding up the candle. His other hand has shot right to your throat, dragging you over him so you’re perched in his lap.

“Jaemin–”

“What are you doing?” He asks, his voice devoid of the sweet charisma. “What have you done?”

You can’t speak. All the signs are pointing to one truth: Jaemin is a selkie.

“Are you–” You squirm, struggling beneath his powerful hands. “Jaemin, this mark… Are you a….”

Jaemin’s hand loosens on your throat, but he keeps a tight grip on your wrist supporting the candle. “Am I what?”

How can you ask him this? If you’re wrong, he’s going to think you’re crazy. But what if you’re right? What then?

Sitting on his lap like this, you can feel his cock beneath you. A bit of candle wax dribbles over the lip of the candle again as your hand wobbles, and from the corner of your eye you watch it trickle down Jaemin’s knuckles. His eyes flare in the dark, his jaw tenses.

“You have to say it,” Jaemin challenges you, “Use your words.”

“Jaemin,” you pause, mustering up the courage or stupidity to speak the next words aloud: “Are you a selkie?”

The fact that you actually asked seems to catch him off-guard. Jaemin’s hold on you falters, just for a moment, but it’s enough to give you the freedom that you manage to break your wrist free, and with your other hand you shove his chest so he’s lying flat beneath you again. 

Again, the candle wobbles in your grip. 

Another couple drops splatter against Jaemin’s chest. He hisses, but the way his eyes flash and the way his cock twitches beneath you tells you that the sound doesn’t necessarily come from pain. 

Jaemin lies still, his eyes fixed on the dancing flame in your hand. 

“What are you going to do to me if I tell you that you’re right?” Jaemin asks. “Who are you going to tell?”

“Why would I tell anyone?” You reply. “And if I did, who would believe me?” 

You barely even understand what it means to be a selkie. You’re not likely to go blabbering about it to anyone. The only person who would possibly believe you or know what you’re really talking about would be your one friend. 

Again, a couple drops of wax escape the candle and meet Jaemin’s bare chest, dangerously close to a nipple.

This time his hips rock off the bed, bucking up between your legs. “Shit, are you going to keep doing that?”

“It depends, do you like it?” You sit down on him, rolling your hips slowly. “Because it seems to me like you do.”

“Can’t we focus on one thing at a time here?” Jaemin groans, his hands flying to your hips as you keep moving. “I thought you were trying to confront me about being a selkie? Or do you want to have sex again, incorporating a little wax play?”

Both? Maybe one should take priority over the other at the moment. 

Jaemin’s hips rock up again, and your mind is made up.

There’s only a thin sheet between your pussy and his cock, and it takes only a simple twitch of your hand to move it out of the way. As you move, shifting around to be in the proper position above him, you tilt the candle, watching as wax spills over and paints itself on Jaemin’s skin.

He moans. His nipples are hard, and he watches you with dark lust-filled eyes, full of want. “You’re going to play with me, tease me? After I treated you so well earlier?”

You lower your hips, dragging your pussy along his hard length as you pour a thin line of wax from his sternum down towards his belly button. “Relax, Jaemin. Just enjoy the pain a little.”

His eyelashes flutter, caught between the pleasure as you circle your clit against the head of his cock, and the pain as you dribble a little more wax on his skin. But he clearly loves it: cock twitching, bottom lip pinched between his teeth, his fingers curling against your hips without any urgency to the touch.

You could just keep teasing like this, grinding on him, pouring wax on his sensitive skin. But you don’t want to leave yourself hanging. You want some of the pleasure too.

Jaemin moans in tandem with you as you lean forward, roll your hips down against him, and then push back onto his hard length. As the warmth of your pussy envelops Jaemin’s cock, you brush away some of the dried candle wax on his chest and you lower your mouth to his nipple, flicking your tongue over the hard bud. 

Jaemin moves to seek his own pleasure, hips rocking off the bed to bury his cock inside of you while you mouth at his chest, while you let a few more drops of wax speckle his chest, drawing shapes now. He keeps forcing whines and moans, gasps of his name from your lips with each deep press of his cock inside you. And you’re drawing quite the sound collection from him as well, including one sound that you swear sounds like the grunt of a seal, reminding you startlingly in that moment of Jaemin’s identity.

You sit up on him, pressing your hand down against his abdomen, forcing Jaemin to still his movements. 

He looks up at you, burning with arousal. But he waits.

“About you being a selkie” you tell him, “I don’t care what you are as long as you’re mine.”

“I belong to the sea,” he tells you. “I can only come to land a few months every seven years. I don’t know that I can be yours, and I don’t think it would be fair to ask you to wait for me.”

You slide your hand up his chest, knocking aside chips of cooled wax. “For now, let’s just make the most of what time we’ve got.” You’ll figure the rest out later. 

The candle in your other hand is flickering, the flame going out. Jaemin watches as you lean over him, as you slide the candle onto the bedside table, and as you lean over his face, he lifts his head and captures one of your nipples with his lips. He licks, sucks, and nips at the sensitive peak until your pussy is throbbing with need and you can no longer just sit here on his cock. 

You push at his chest until Jaemin falls away, his head once more against your pillows, and he smiles up at you, dazzling and charming again while you sit above him.

You let go of everything, choosing in that moment to focus only on what feels good. 

You fuck yourself on Jaemin’s cock, leaning back with your hands braced on his thighs as you bounce. He snakes a hand up between your thighs, fingers on your clit. Your thighs twitch, moans spilling from your lips, and you feel powerful as you take what you want, as Jaemin gives it all to you. His hips rise from the bed, lifting to meet your thrusts, your bodies move in tandem, each of you seeking the height of pleasure.

You thrust down, and the angle of Jaemin’s cock inside you presses against your G-spot right as he pinches your clit between his fingers.

Your orgasm sets you adrift, untethered as your body moves on autopilot, chasing the high higher and higher. 

Jaemin sits up, sealing his mouth over yours, rolling your beneath him, and he fucks into you hard, fast, out of rhythm as his climax takes over too, and he cums buried inside you, passing his moans directly to your tongue.

You must pass out, slipping into unconsciousness just like that with Jaemin’s body covering yours inside and out, pressed together inseparably. 

When you wake what feels like hours later to the sunrise painting the sky a hundred different shades of pink, Jaemin still sleeps with his face tucked against your shoulder, his arms around you, cock soft but still pressed into the mess between your thighs. When you shift to rearrange a little, Jaemin’s arms hold you tighter still. He sighs, eyebrows furrowing a little. 

“Don’t move,” he mumbles sleepily. “I want to hold you for as long as I can.”

You settle in comfortably to the warm security of his arms, content to stay like this with Jaemin for however long you can have.

a/n: day 2 completed! when i started working with a few different prompts and they combined to spell out that I should write mermaid Jaemin with candle wax play I really wasn't sure where this was going to go, but then I started thinking about Eros and Psyche and her dripping hot oil/candle wax on him, and I thought about a book I read as a kid about selkies, and I decided yep that's it, that's the one

I hope you've enjoyed this one, and I look forward to all of you sticking around for the rest of this month's kinktober fics!

Reblogs are deserving of my eternal gratitude, likes are greatly appreciated, and your thoughts and comments are always welcome !

[zvdvdlvr]

— Lunch Break

— 🫧. Synopsis. Spencer hasn’t been feeling well lately. When he accidentally gives you his lunch as well as yours, you have to leave work to make sure he gets his lunch and eats to make sure he gets better. But the thing is, no one knew Spencer had married someone.

— 🫧. Warnings. Blue!collar reader. Female reader. Collective group shock lmao. Foul language. Welder!reader. Pet names. Possible out of character Spencer but i dont really care. I’m so sleep deprived yall.

— 🫧. Other welder!reader pieces. Alive and Breathing.

“Bye, angel,” you murmured after pressing a kiss to your sleepin husband’s cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” Spencer replied tiredly, eyes opening the slightest bit. “I already put your lunch in your cooler. Be safe.”

You smiled. Of course, even though you have to leave at 2 in the morning, Spencer’s already five steps ahead. You turned to leave the bedroom but stopped after hearing him cough. “Before you leave- I got you a few more boxes of that DayQuill/NyQuill stuff and Mucinex. Should be on the counter. Make sure you take them, Spence. I know you haven’t been feeling well. Bye, I love you,” you spoke quickly, throwing your coat on.

Spencer felt a smile forming on his face. His wife: always attentive and gentle (to him at least). “I love you, baby.”

“Hey,” Spencer greeted, picking up his phone and heading out of the bullpen. “What’s up?” Spencer was confused: you didn’t usually call him or contact him when you were at work unless it was absolutely necessary. Were you in trouble? “Are you okay?”

“I’m alright, angel. I’m coming over to drop off your lunch. You, uh,” your voice paused, probably observing other drivers’ movements at a red light. “You gave me my lunch and yours. So I’m on my way. Do you want me to come up or… drop it off? I’m all dirty ‘n everything,” you rambled.

“I think you look hot when you get off of work,” Spencer replied with a smile. He felt himself sigh. He was glad nothing had happened to you.

Your laugh crackled through the line. “That’s because it’s a very physical job, Spence.”

Spencer chuckled, “No, babe, I think you’re just… naturally very attractive.”

“You’re too good for me, Spence. Did you take your medicine? You sound pretty nasally,” you questioned.

“Yeah, I took it,” Spencer replied quietly with a smile on his face. You noticed everything- and Spencer was the profiler! “Anyway, I gotta go, babe. Drive safe, my beautiful wife. I love you.”

“I love you too, husband.”

Spencer tucked his ohone back into his pocket and wandered back out to the bullpen. “Hey, so… I have something to tell you,” Spencer blurted out to Emily and Derek who were watching him like a hawk.

“What is it?” Emily asked immediately, eyebrows furrowing.

“So, I want to apologize for keeping this for so long but I just- I didn’t know how to tell you. I mean, not to mention the fact that you wouldn’t have believed me anyway but that’s not the point. The point is I want you to stay calm and don’t be mad at me.”

“Whoa whoa whoa, kid, slow your roll. What’s goin’ on?” Derek asked.

Spencer looked at both Emily and Derek before sighing. “My wife is gonna be swinging by soon and… she’s… all I’m asking is don’t scare her away. Actually,” Spencer paused, smiling slightly, “she might scare you a little bit.”

Emily’s brows raised higher then Spencer previously thought possible. “You… What?” She asked, standing up.

“You’re actually joking.” Derek stated, face solemn. “You’re joking, man, come on.”

Spencer shrugged, hand coming up to pull the necklace his ring was on from under his shirt to show his coworkers. “We went to the courthouse one year, eleven months. two weeks, four days, and twelve hours ago.”

Derek blinked. “Are- You’re seriously not joking?”

“I have the documents at home to prove it,” Spencer replied, tucking it back under his shirt. “If, you know, you want to see them.”

“I’d rather see her in person,” Emily stated, already starting her pacing. “But like, you didn’t kidnap her or anything did you?”

Spencer shook his head. “No, believe me. She loves me, Emily. I love her.”

Derek sat, hands on his head. “So we missed the wedding and everything? You didn’t say a word, man.”

Spencer nodded. “We were gonna tell you, invite you over for our anniversary.”

“Spencer, what’s her name?” Emily asked suddenly.

“Who’s name?” A low, gravely voice asked. Aaron Hotchner stood, hands on his hips, staring each of his agents down.

“Spencer’s wife’s,” Derek responded slowly.

“Oh,” Hotch replied casually.

“You knew?!” Emily asked loudly, mouth dropped open in shock.

“I saw he added someone else to the insurance, and there was another emergency contact. I haven’t seen her though,” Hotch answered honestly.

“When’s she gonna be here?”

“Soon. She called me probably five minutes ago, so estimating the amount of traffic about this time, I’d guess probably ten minutes.”

“I assume you can find something to do for ten minutes?” The corner of Hotch’s lip turned up just the slightest bit, and he had a hint of amusement in his voice. When Derek finally tore his eyes off of Spencer and Emily bee-lined for her desk, Hotch turned around and stalked over to Rossi’s office to tell him the good news.

Spencer stood up when he heard the unmistakable sound of your steel-toed boots making comtact with the floor. A sweet smile painted his face as he gravitated to you, shoulders relaxing at your presence. “Hey, baby,” he whispered when he was close enough to you.

“Hi you,” you replied, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. You brandished a brown paper bag, Spencer’s name written in your handwriting.

Emily watched you walk in. You were wearing two shirts, dark in color with small holes decorating the sleeves and the hem of both shirts. Your pants were dark and thick, dark liquids and stains all over them. The boots on your feet were definitely thick: steel toed if Emily had to guess. A physical worker, she put the pieces together. Electician? That wouldn’t explain all the stains. Mechanic? Couldn’t be: why would your shirts be all torn if you were fixing cars? Welder? The pieces fit, though Emily wasn’t too educated in that department. She had respect for you. Not many women Emily knew could handle the responsibilities of such a physical job, or handle all the creeps, jerks, and perverts that passed in your workplace.

“Derek,” Emily whisper-yelled. He looked up and she gestured to where Spencer had strode over to you.

“Come on.”

Emily stood up, brushing her hands on her pants and followed Derek to where you were conversing.

“-come back? He’s been slacking off too much, baby, you shouldn’t let him keep relying on you to get his stuff done,” Spencer rambled angrily.

“It’s nothing I can’t handle, Spence. How are you feeling? I brough- oh. Hi,” you greeted.

“Hi! Mrs. Reid, right?” Emily asked, sticking her hand out.

You smiled brightly and nodded. When you saw her hand and showed her your own: “I don’t, uh, think you’d want to do that,” you murmured.

“Doesn’t bother me,” Emily assured honestly.

You returned her genuine smile and clasped her hand. “Thank you. You’re… Emily? Right? And then you’re Derek?” You asked, turning to face Morgan.

“That’s us,” Morgan answered.

“I don’t think Spencer’s brought me up. I’m y/n Reid,” you introduced. “Sorry for all the grime. I came to drop off Spencer’s lunch,” you explained, shooting Spencer a smile, who kept his eyes trained on you the whole time.

“Good to meet you, y/n.” Emily said. “If… if you’re alright with it, I’d like to get the team together. To meet you. If,” she glanced between you and Spencer who was watching you unblinkingly, “that is okay with both of you? I don’t want to push you.”

Derek side eyed Emily. Penelope would probably scare y/n away, even though she didn’t mean to.

“Up to you, baby,” Spencer murmured when you turned to face him.

“Doesn’t bother me,” you answered. Glancing at your Casio, you nodded, “I’ve got an hour.”

“It’ll be fast,” Emily reassured with a smile.

Emily and Derek split up, Emily going up to get Rossi and Hotch, Derek rounding up JJ and Garcia.

“Are you sure, baby?” Spencer asked. He led you to his desk, setting down the bag you gave him. “I don’t- they-“

“Do you want us to do this another day? When I’m not in my work clothes?” You asked, refusing to sit down on anything.

Spencer shook his head. “No, no. I just want you to be prepared. They can be overwhelming.”

“‘Overwhelming’ I hear?”

You turned your head and saw two men and Emily walking towards you both. The younger looking one was Hotchner because you knew David Rossi’s face; him being a famous author and everything.

“Hello! You must be the missus,” Rossi greeted, sticking his hand out. Good lord, you thought, feds and their handshakes.

You showed Rossi your dirt stained hands and opened her mouth.

“We’ve touched dead bodies, y/n. I promise we won’t get upset at a little grease,” Emily explained gently. Good god, you thought.

Regardless, you shook Rossi and Hotch’s hand, grateful for Emily’s reassurance. Spencer wrapped an arm around your shoulders. He leaned in, whispering “You’re doing great, baby.”

“So,” Hotch began, “I want to personally thank you for keeping Reid sane and healthy.”

Emily and Rossi both laughed. “Yeah, he’s got enough trouble on the field,” Emily joked.

You elbowed Spencer, a grin painting your face. “Is that right?”

“Doesn’t matter if it’s right or not: I’ll always come back to you,” Spencer replies softly, eyed swiftly darting to your lips.

“Spencer!” You reprimanded, smacking him (lightly) on the stomach. “Your bosses are right there, you-“

A loud shriek cut you off, making everyone’s gaze dart to a person behind you. “She’s real! Ohmygod! Ohmygod! Reid! You didn’t even drop a singular hint that you were hitched!”

Spencer chuckled, pulling your form a little closer to his. “If I remember correctly, JJ saw my ring when I was asleep on the plane: I assumed she had told everyone and you didn’t want to bring it up.”

“For a genius, you’re pretty dumb,” a new voice cut in. “Hi, I’m Jennifer Jareau, but you can call me JJ.” The blonde smiled warmly and brought you in for a swift hug.

“Ah! Hello, you gorgeous soul! I’m Penelope!” A shorter blonde, more colorful and energetic, embraced you. “I’m so glad to meet you, even though, you know, I didn’t even knew you existed until about two minutes ago.” She shot your husband a look. “But, I would cery much like to get to know you, as would JJ and Emily if you can’t tell.”

You smiled. “I’d love to now, but seeing as I’m technically on my lunch break, I don’t think I’ll have time to do everything you probably have in mind. Could we,” you turned to Spencer, eyes glinting, “bring them over for dinner?”

“Anything you want, babe,” Spencer replied. Truly, if you had asked him to give you his heart, he would find a way to rip the organ out of his chest and give it to you in his bood stained hands. Dinner? No problem.

“I’ll give you my number. Penelope could make a groupchat or something,” you suggested.

Everyone nodded. Hotch was looking forward to this dinner. And Rossi, no matter what he said.

After you gave Penelope your phone number and everyone dispersed, Emily and Derek were wise enough to go busy themselves with a vending machine.

“You alright, baby?” Spencer asked.

You nodded. “I’m alright. Glad I finally met them. I, uh, hope you’re not mad about the dinner thing.”

Spencer scoffed. “I wouldn’t get mad over that.”

You shrugged. “Well. I should probably head back to work. Sorry for getting you all dirty,” you apologized again, pulling away from Spencer quickly, remembering you were in your work attire.

“It’s alright, baby. ‘M just glad I got to see you.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, a sly smile forming on your face. “You’ve been awfully sappy lately, Spence. Are you sure you’re alright? I’m seriously considering taking you to a doctor.”

Spencer laughed. “I’m your sap,” he responded casually.

“Okay. Seriously. Stop making me get lost in your eyes because I got to go to work. Bye. I love you,” you babbled, pulling Spencer down to kiss you.

“Bye, wife,” Spencer whispered into your lips.

“Bye, husband.”

[manygeese]

I think the seven should get up to more found family shenanigans so here, have a game night

-

On one of the rare occasions that all of the seven were in the same room, Percy took the opportunity to slam down a stack of board games on the table.

“We’re having a game night and there’s nothing you can do about it,” he stated, already taking out the first game- Clue.

“This is what the emergency meeting was about?” Frank sighed.

“Yes, and, as previously stated, there’s nothing you can do about it.” Percy gave Frank a comical glare.

Annabeth had taken the box for Clue out of Percy’s hand and was reading the back. “This only has six players.”

“You and me can work together,” he grinned and rested an arm around her shoulders. She responded with a small smile.

“I don’t wanna play Clue,” Piper whined. “I watched the movie when I was like, five, and the blackout scene scared me so much that I burned my dad’s copy in the backyard. I hate Clue.”

Leo turned slowly towards her with a horrified look on his face. “You don’t like Clue?” She nodded and his jaw dropped open. “Your best friend privileges are revoked,” he spat, pointing at her with more hatred in his finger than he usually had in his entire body.

“Are you breaking up with me?” Piper cried.

“Yeah. I want a divorce.” He crossed his arms.

She stood up like she was starring in a soap opera, hands slamming down on the table. “I’ll fight it in court. I’ll go for full custody.”

“I didn’t even want kids, Piper! Take them!” He threw his hands up angrily.

“Then I’ll get ownership of the house!”

He gasped and held a hand to his chest. “You wouldn’t!”

“I would!”

Jason was sitting in between them and stifling a chuckle. When he caught the murderous intent in Leo’s eyes, though, he tried to diffuse the situation. “Leo, Piper, it’s fine, we can just play a different game. Right, Percy?” He looked over to Percy hopefully.

“If you guys are gonna act like… that, then we can play a different game,” Percy relented, only a mild amount of fear in his eyes. There was a lot more in Hazel’s.

Annabeth snatched up the game beneath Clue- Trivial Pursuit. “This is my favorite game. Me and my siblings play it on the weekends.” She held it up and passed it to Hazel.

“There are six players in this one, too,” Hazel pointed out, “but we can team up. Like me and Frank together, Percy and Jason, and Leo and Piper?”

“I’m not gonna be on a team with her,” Leo huffed.

“I’m not gonna be on a team with him,” Piper spat at the same time. They were both trying not to laugh. Jason wheezed, which earned him two cartoonishly exaggerated stares.

“Alright,” Hazel compromised. “Um, maybe Piper can be on a team with Percy. P team? P squared?” She looked around the room for feedback. Piper and Percy high-fived, which she took as acceptance of her idea.

“I’ll be on a team with Leo, so long as he doesn’t divorce me,” Jason offered.

“If you like Clue, we’ll have a happy marriage,” Leo countered.

“Never played it.”

“Divorce.”

Annabeth snorted. “Leo, whether he likes Clue or not, you’re with Jason. You can’t divorce everyone who doesn’t like Clue.”

“Watch me.”

[pandorascripts]

Familiar By Thy Side pt 2

super excited to share part two with all of you!! sorry it’s been a bit since I updated, my school clubs are starting up and I’ve been figuring out all my stuff as I go.

relationships: (drumroll) Agathario/Reader!

lots of yall said it should be agathario/reader, so I’m delivering! thank you for all the feedback :)

warnings: uhhh, I don’t think there’s any, but who knows.

The next time you’re able to remember current events, you’re laid down on a dock, in nothing but your wet undergarments. With a loud gasp, you shoot up, chest rapidly rising and falling. Everything is overwhelming, the noise of the lake, the splashing and laughter, the bristle of trees’ leaves, the creaking of the dock — it’s too much, everything is too much. You can’t recognize anything, your whereabouts completely unknown as the cold sinks into your achy bones and shaky fingers. 

Finally, you see someone just barely familiar. Nicholas, laughing and splashing his Mother just twenty feet off to your side in the shallow waters. With a hard breath, you look around and try to focus on regaining your senses. Previously dirty skin is shining clean again, your hands brushing over it in confusion. Agatha had bathed you? The thought of being unconscious and vulnerable makes your spine shiver, gaze hardening at Agatha. The moment you fully look at her, really recognize her, you have such a hard time hating her. The smile plastered on her raw face, laughter so hard she’s forced to wheeze and turn her back from her boy, she looks human to you for the first time in, well, however long you’ve been with them. 

Nicky is the first to notice you, his smile still wide as he waves to you. Agatha snaps her head to your direction, icy blue eyes running along your posture for a good read. There’s a subconscious relent in Agatha when she realizes how scared you are right now. There’s so much familiarity in that showcase of fear for her, that she’s slightly taken aback by the memories of nights when she was younger and afraid. A low growl dies down into a clearing of her throat, Agatha turning away. 

“Nicholas, you’ll get frozen if we’re here any longer,” she states, but Nicky knows it’s a demand. 

He pouts but doesn’t argue with his mom, waddling out of the water that Agatha easily cruises through. Her outfit matches yours — nothing but undergarments, and it’s clear that they had been playing in the water for quite some time. A weird thought festers in your mind, happy that despite being apathetic to everything, Agatha knows that her son is but a boy and deserves to have fun. 

By the time Agatha and Nicholas are fully dressed in their slightly damp clothes — ones you haven’t seen before, so you realize they must’ve been stolen during your lights-out phase — the embarrassment settles in. You feel even more vulnerable now, the only one absolutely indecent enough for viewing. Agatha lets Nicholas head back to their makeshift camp just some odd feet out, her journey steering to open a medium-sized leather pouch, and take out some clothes. Silently, Agatha walks down the doc to toss them in your lap. 

“What did you do to me?” is the first thing that comes out of your mouth, more so questioning how she managed to subdue you so easily. 

“Bathed you. Nothing more nothing less.” 

The sharpness of her tone makes you realize she believes you to be questioning something else, a small flinch on your face. 

“Not that, that I understand well. The time I was awake, we were fighting, and then…” 

“Then I came to the smart conclusion you were too shambled to make such a journey and made it so you did not kill Nicky, nor I,” she answers, still on the defensive. 

You don’t argue back with her. Neither do you even try to dry off with anything, immediately trying to put on your clothes. 

“Wait.”

You stop at her words, convinced it was her magick rather than your obedience. “What?” 

Agatha walks off the dock, leaving you confused on whether or not you should continue. She turns her back to you again a couple seconds later, heading down the platform before tossing you a damp rag. 

“To dry. These clothes will be yours next few days, nothing wet against your skin will be comfortable enough for our journey. We leave tonight again.” 

You wet your lips, holding the rag before looking up at Agatha. Seeing her this close, it’s no wonder she was able to lure in many with a beguiling feeling of comfort. Agatha is motherly in many of her actions, even when she’s killing witches, surprisingly enough. Motherly or not completely monstrously, you’re not sure. 

“Thank you, Agatha,” you say softly, her name foreign on your tongue. 

“Make haste, the sun will set in a few hours time.” 

A simple nod from you has Agatha walking over to her son, your hands working to dry off your body with the rag. It’s slightly rugged, a little ripped and the edges are frayed. Although, you can’t be too picky, you suppose. Agatha almost gave you nothing. You’re not sure why she didn’t, why she let you dry off. It truly wouldn’t have been that uncomfortable for you, walking all that distance would’ve heated your body up and in turn the clothes would’ve probably helped cool you down. You turn around on the dock to run the rag over your chest, Agatha’s mean eyes running along your back. 

In her own mind, Agatha is beating herself up over giving you that rag. Why did she care if you were comfortable? If anything, Agatha only wants you to be uncomfortable around her, to be scared around her. It’s much easier that way, for you to be terrorized into obedience. She’s not sure, but maybe after being in your mind during the week in Salem she saw one too many correlations between you and Her. Agatha clenches her jaw, refusing to believe that after six years clean she’s genuinely letting herself feel the things she long ago buried about Rio. The name sends shivers down her spine, eyes running to find her boy. He’s nestled against a tree, fixing his hair into a braid. The facial expression she finds on him is way too similar to Rio’s mouth open in concentration, nose tilted up. Agatha comes to the realization that she can never get away from the sound of the woman that loves her, and it haunts her. Rio’s voice in the mornings, her small touch throughout the day, the sweet laugh she let out at Agatha’s off-colored jokes, everything that was and is Rio stays within Agatha. Her eyes fall down to her hands, balling them up tightly before she lets go of them with a sigh. 

You walk down the dock, fully dressed and mainly dry. Wet against your neck is your hair, but you simply scrunch it up and keep it behind your shoulders. Agatha is moving Nicky up, sitting behind him as she starts softly speaking to him and doing his hair for him. The braid wasn’t the best, so Agatha simply undoes it and starts over. He doesn’t seme to mind, lost in the conversation as he drags a stick through the dirt to spell out his name. The scene is a little too vulnerable and familial for you to want to engage in, even if you’re more calm than when you first woke. There’s some slight gratitude you feel for Agatha, considering that she didn’t completely undress you when bathing you. Despite the slight awkward dampness of the materials against your skin, it’s something to be thankful for. 

You’re too caught up in trying to figure out everything that happened — stubbornly refusing to ask Agatha — that you don’t notice her sit next to you. Of course, there’s still a couple feet of distance from the two of you, but you’re unsure why she wouldn’t sit by Nicholas. Until you realize he’s not here. 

“Where is the boy?” you ask, your body more unsettled without him. This makes no sense, and you know it, but you swear Agatha is almost human around him. Despite that she’s killed in front of the boy, openly explained that she kills witches to him, and still speaks down to you around him, it just feels safer when he’s around. 

“Off to harvest some berries past that brush,” she replies, and you’re almost surprised she actually does. 

You just stay quiet, a slight nod of your head as your eyes lock on the fire. 

“Salem was just fine, in case you were wondering,” mumbles Agatha, sniffling after as if to cover up everything she just said. 

“Have they still been killling witches?” 

There’s a small laugh from Agatha, her head shaking slightly. “Oh, please, we were much too clever to be killed during then. Those women were married to the worst of the worst, and killed simply so their husband could marry younger or justify his continuous infidelity.” 

“We?” you ask, head turning to stare at Agatha. You weren’t aware that she was living in Salem during those times, but then again, you’re not sure how old Agatha actually is. “Yes, we. Womanhood came to me after spending my youth in that town. I left soon after.” Agatha’s tone at the end, her licking her lips and turning her head too, tells you that there’s something there — a story, no doubt, but you don’t question. 

“Must have been quite fearful, I’d imagine.” 

“They couldn’t catch us, dear, only a few were ever caught.” 

The fire is crackling, your hands reaching out to warm up over the flames. Agatha watches, the way your hair falls off your shoulder and over, her eyes running along your clothes. You’re maybe in your early twenties, or older - it’s hard to tell with witches. Her body is way to relaxed with you so near, but she doesn’t know why. Maybe it’s because she’s sure you’re magic isn’t as strong or because she’s sure you’re not skilled at all. Either way, Agatha doesn’t like it. 

You don’t react to the word “dear” slipping from her mouth, certain its’ just another way to degrade you and poke fun. It doesn’t bother you. You don’t let it. 

“Man has never been smart, have they?’ you chuckle out, flashing her a small smile. 

Agatha responds with a shake of her head, pursing her lips. “Not much, no.” 

Silence absorbs the both of you for a couple minutes, up until Nicholas stumbles through the brush. He’s brushing off some burs with a distasteful look. 

“They’re so sharp,” he mumbles, very displeased with his clothes being covered in spikey balls. There’s a small smile from you, your hand lifting up to drop down. Just as the action is completed, all the burs fall from his clothes, his head snapping up to look at his mother. 

“Thank you, mama.” “Don’t look at me, boy, that had nothing to do with me,” she chuckles slightly. “Would’ve been quite entertaining watching you flounder about a bit longer.” 

Nicholas laughs slightly at his mom’s teasing, his eyes turning to you. “You then? Thank you.” 

Turning back to the fire, you remain quiet as Agatha and her son converse together, the sun starting to fall. You still aren’t clear how long had passed since you last remember anything, but you’re too nervous to talk. Wringing out your hands, glaring at the fire only to occasionally look at the duo before you, you can’t find a good enough time to interject. 

There’s a small huff from Agatha, her annoyed look turning to face you. “You’re loud.” 

“Excuse me?” you ask out, a little bewildered at her statement.

“Your mind that is, you’re insufferable. What is it you need?”

Closing your gaping mouth, you blink a bunch before relenting. “How long was I — how long did you have control over me?” 

Agatha wets her lips, turning back to the fire. “Maybe around eight days, including a portion of today.” 

Eight days. It had been eight whole days. You swallow thickly, looking down to stare at the dirt below. She had been in your mind, controlling you, full access to everything for eight whole days. You feel perturbed at this information, wetting your lips down as you struggle to come to terms with that. What had she done in there? What had she seen? What had she messed up? What had she learned? It feels like a violation to you, your head turned away from her. 

Apathetic to your discomfort, Agatha goes back to talking with Nicky about his day and what he found in the forest. 

The next few days are spent silently for you, simply walking alongside Agatha. You wish you could’ve been behind her, away from her, but she insisted you go next to her to negate any chance of betrayal from you. Far too tired to argue and far too worried she’d overwhelm your mind again, you just gave in. During this journey, you didn’t car to ask her where you all were going, you just walked. And walked. And walked. 

The group of you walked for days until reaching a newly-named settlement called Philadelphia, which had started booming since being labeled. Weirdly enough, Agatha was able to swindle an older man into letting the three of you crash, despite having no way of paying him back and being covered in grime. You watched the way she did it, hand on his bicep, straightening out his lapels, and showering him with praise. Alongside sickening you, you were intrigued. Agatha was a sight to behold, you were well aware of her beauty, but you and Nicholas being included on the deal? He was but a boy, and you weren’t ever the most attractive in your eyes, so how is it that he let all of you stay? 

Being rushed into his home by Agatha’s hand on your back made you forget your questions, slugging into the room he offered and laying down on a couch in the corner. There were two beds, one for Nicholas and one for Agatha, so you assumed you’d be cramped up here for however long the stay lasted. 

You were partially right. Agatha dumped her small amount of belongings onto the second bed, sorted them out into things that needed washing and things that were clean, doing the same with her sons too. Nicky sat on the first bed, shoes neatly tucked below as he took off his coat and fixed the collar of his shirt. 

Agatha grouped up all of the clothes, put them into a bag, and handed Nicky two coins and the pouch. “Round down to the market, Nicky. Find a woman willing to launder our clothes and pay her well for her troubles.” 

He gave his mom a look, a little shocked he was allowed to go out on his own, but he nodded his head and listened. Just as he slid off the bed, Agatha held his shoulder and leaned down to kiss his forehead. “Be quick, be kind, and use any extra to get yourself something you like.” 

Nicholas smiled widely at his mom, nodding his head before sprinting out when he was dismissed. Agatha started to fold the cleaner clothes, nestling them in the dresser nicely. 

“How did you manage to convince that man?” you ask softly, sitting up on the couch. 

Agatha turns her head to look at you, fixing her hair by tucking it just under her ear. “I’m persuasive.” 

“There was more than that, d’you’re magick permit you to do so?” 

Her lips are pursed as you push further, a small sneer on her face. “It is nothing of your concern, be grateful you’ve a placed to rest that isn’t dirt, girl.” 

Agatha is cruel in her words, so you settle for questioning when she’s in a much better mood. Your questions are only making her feel more at odds with herself, hating the way those powers only work on men. After all, Agatha would much rather have her succubus powers sway women, at least there could be something more she could get out of it. Now she’s to deal with this man trying to hit on her, much more disturbing when she’s with her young boy, but Agatha won’t risk disturbing her magick at work. The last thing she needs is this man kicking them out, or far worse, claiming witch because he was rejected by her. 

Nicky comes back twenty minutes later, hands full with two trinkets, and a wide grin. His eyes are sparkling as he runs up to Agatha. 

“Mama, this nice lady just minutes out from here gave me these — free of charge, she said!” he laughs out, setting them on the bed which previously held clothes.

“Nicky, get them off the bed. Lord knows where they’ve been.” Agatha directs the boy with her hands, moving him out of the way as she does it herself. Whilst holding the items, her face pales and she glares. “Who gave you these, boy?” 

“A woman, Mama, a kind lady.” 

“A kind lady she is not, not if she tried her hardest. Nicky, you stay inside, no matter what.” 

You watch Agatha, seeing her truly unsettled for the first time. The items as you look at them, are slightly odd, but nothing to signify anything perilous. One is a small painting of a flower, some sort of dipladenia if you can remember correctly. The other is a small, festive skull, something from the Spaniards’ holiday Día de los Difuntos, you reckon. There’s no reason Agatha should be this uptight over a simple gift from a townswoman. 

Still, you keep quiet as you fon’t want to upset her any more. Nicholas is slightly distraught, watching his mother behave like this. She looks over at you. 

“Watch the boy and stay here.” 

With that, Agatha turns on her heel, coat lagging behind in her twirl, and slams the bedroom door behind herself. Nicky sits on the bed, his hands playing with the sheets as looks at the items Agatha threw down. The painting of the flower is in his hands, fingertips running over the medium used. There’s a hint of pity you feel for the boy, a small forwn on her your face as you move to sit next to him. The bed creaks. 

“D’you know what flower that is?” you quietly query. He shakes his head. “It’s a diplandenia. A Rio Diplandenia. They take almost no care from others and thrive, very low maintenance from it’s maintainers. Beautiful, no?” 

Nicky nods his head, looking up at you. His eyes are a little glossy. “A Rio?” 

“Yes, boy, a Rio.” 

For some reason, that brings a smile to his face. You’re not sure why, but you just smile back and watch him, your hand moving some of his hair behind his ear. “Whatever reason your mother has for acting like this, I’m sure it will be alright in the end. No need to fret over her antics.” 

Nicky nods his head. “I’m not worried, I know what’s to come.” “Oh, do you now? Forgive me for not taking you as divination warlock,” you laugh slightly, bumping his shoulder. 

Nicholas shakes his head, rolling his eyes at you. “No, no, not like that. I’ve just — I’ve got an ease within me. I know I’m okay, that I will be. I just worry for Mama.” 

“Your mother is quite the strong witch, boy, she will be fine as well as you will.” 

Nicholas looks like he’s on the brink of saying something, but his mother comes through the door, two bags full of what you assume are stolen travel items. 

“Nicholas, these bags, now.” 

Nikcy runs over to his mom, grabbing them and checking their fastenings. You kick his shoes out from under the bed, sliding them over to him. With your back turned to the group, you grab the painting of the flower and slip it under your clothes with the intent to give it to Nicky later. 

In just ten minutes you’re out the door, your eyes just barely catching sight of a gray hand behind a corner wall. You swallow loudly, but remain vocally silent. 

You’re not sure how many days pass when you’re thinking clearly again, too caught up in wondering why Agatha was so uptight to even care. The knowledge that Agatha has full access to your thoughts doesn’t hit you until after all your hard thinking. Agatha hasn’t said anything about it, so you assumed she either blocked you out or was too focused on moving to care. 

[starmosaics]

Mars in the 8th House pt. 2/3

If you haven’t read the 1st part here’s a link to the original post :)

Today I’m focusing on transformation, life and death situations and possible struggles with mental health and substance abuse.

Those with Mars in the 8H frequently face unforeseen events in their life which catalyzes incredible changes. Some of these events are catastrophic. These people can completely alter their lives by brute will or they will be met with challenges which push them towards making necessary changes.

Common events I’ve seen/experienced that pushes an 8H Mars towards transformation:

-Death of a loved one, loss of any kind

-Near death experiences

-A breakup/divorce

-Overcoming addiction

-Releasing/healing trauma

-Inheritance

There’s many times where these people feel isolated and left in the dark; some may feel like they’ve lost everything even their sense of self. Many 8H Mars individuals have experienced and been exposed to very difficult and painful events which is one of the most challenging aspects of this placement. Life has its ups and downs and for these people, that’s never ending. The most important thing is that they are so persevering and are quite determined to follow through to reach the other end after facing difficulties. I’ve seen people with this aspect go through hell and eventually got out of that dark place and became a totally different person; shedding one’s skin. I myself feel like I have already lived 10 different lives. The 8th House forcefully causes one to experience changes within their mental state, physical bodies, or spiritual lives; the 8th House can quite literally strip your identity causing you to have to completely build yourself up again.

These people may feel like they got the short end of the stick when it comes to certain situations that they've been dealt leading them to succumbing to their fears and experiencing chaos and disheveledness leaving them feeling trapped, but something to remind these folks is that when they feel like they’ve hit rock bottom, the closer they are to transforming themselves or an area of their lives along with gaining grit and profound wisdom. The 8th House wants you to go inwards, identify the parts of yourself or your life you can't face, to take the reins and evolve. Sometimes it requires metaphorically (sometimes literally, but hopefully not) dying first to become reborn.

T/W: Abuse, substance use, heavy topics mentioned!!

In terms of an 8H Mars’ mental health, there’s quite a distinctive pattern. As we’ve established earlier that what kind of experiences these people might face, the events that alters one's life naturally will heavily impact one's mental health. I know 4 other people with this placement (along with myself) who have some form of psychiatric disorder; most commonly Bipolar disorder, Paranoia, MDD (major depressive disorder), and BPD. Many have experienced events (commonly during childhood, teen years, and early twenties) that lead to signs/a diagnosis of CPTSD (complex post traumatic stress disorder).

Substance abuse is also very common to those who have this placement. Either a family member of theirs struggled with it, or they themselves did. Everyone I know who has this placement including myself has either had a family member who struggled with addiction, or have personally struggled with addiction; sometimes both. 8th house represents something you inherit and unfortunately sometimes it's the inter-generational cycle of addiction. Substance use disorders and mental disorders are sometimes heritable. This isn't meant to scare you or make you feel bad if you have faced any battles with substances. Addiction doesn't have to be your whole life story, just a chapter. Those who I know who previously struggled with addiction and turned their lives around are happier than ever.

Here are some famous people with an 8H Mars that struggled with their mental health and substance abuse:

-Marilyn Monroe (Alleged Bipolar disorder, substance use disorder)

-Robin Williams (MDD, substance use disorder)

-Amanda Bynes (Bipolar disorder, abused stimulants)

-Sid Vicious (Showed signs of personality disorder, substance use disorder)

-Drew Barrymore (Substance use disorder, MDD)

-Courtney Love (Substance use disorder, Autism)

-Lil Peep (Bipolar disorder, substance use disorder)

-Anthony Bourdain (MDD, substance abuse)

More than half of these famous people also struggled in childhood due to the impact of their family members; Marilyn Monroe had a traumatizing childhood and was living in multiple foster homes and orphanages due to her alcoholic and schizophrenic mother being unable to care for her, Amanda Bynes facing sexual abuse by Dan Schneider as a child, Sid Vicious' mother was neglectful and gave him hero*n when he was a teenager, Drew Barrymore had a mother who influenced and fueled Drew's coca*ne and alcohol addiction before she was even 15 years old, and Courtney Love's father was deemed to be unstable and a horrible father. He allegedly gave her LSD as a child and also physically abused her when she was 17 after visiting him in Ireland.

I don't want to fully air this story out, but I had a friend who was like a sibling to me and their dad abandoned them during their teenage years and their mother was unable to work due to her schizophrenia and substance abuse; she would have us pick up cigarettes and get drugs for her when we were 16/17. This friend has experienced a lot of pain and is still struggling with their own demons and mental health and i'm no longer in their life due to their choices and influence on me, but I still think about them all the time. I wish them the best and hope they eventually find their way back to themselves. They're one of the smartest people I've ever met.

In my own personal life, my dad was never in the picture and my mother (who I believe also had an 8H Mars) struggled with mental illness and substance abuse, so I lived with my grandmother, who I eventually found out also abused substances, but was more "stable". After my mom passed literally from alcohol deteriorating her body when I was 17, I decided I had to keep distance from my family and moved out as soon as I could and since then my life has totally changed. I heavily smoked weed from the ages 16-19, I'm addicted to cigarettes, I am very wary about my alcohol consumption, and I inherited my mom and grandmother's mental illness. If it weren't for my upbringing, I wouldn't possess the wisdom I have today. Yes my childhood was fked up, but it made me immensely resilient. I have experienced life and death literally and metaphorically many many times.

I'm not saying that if you have this placement you're bound to struggle with addiction and have a tragic life story filled with trauma and pain, but unfortunately a more common thing I see in those who do have this placement have struggled with trauma, substances, abuse, and family dynamics. And like I said with the transformational aspect of the 8th House, many people overcame their demons and traumas. There's always an option for recovery in any scenario which is also associated with the 8H, and sometimes destruction (Mars) and chaos is needed for rebirth. In a less extreme manner, 8th House Martians may just struggle with generalized depression and anxiety.

Another thing I've noticed about those with an 8H Mars placement is that they let their anger seethe until it eventually boils over leading to an outburst. They may experience super intense meltdowns due to not healthily coping. Emotional regulation might be difficult for these natives in general.

On one end Mars rules destruction, conflict, death, assaults, and violence. On the other, it represents ambition, overcoming, exertion, determination, encouragement, strength, one's ability, and facing fears.

If you have an 8H Mars and faced any of the struggles above or anything similar and need someone to talk to you can always message me! I want this post to encourage the people who may feel stuck or are in a rough place that they can overcome whatever is thrown at them. Remember crisis comes first, then evolution and finally, total transformation. <3

In the 3rd and final part we'll go over struggles within intimate relationships 8H Mars folks might face and "taboo" topics these natives might enjoy.

[vivakitkt]

Genshin men when you are pregnant

Characters: Xiao, Wanderer, Diluc, Childe

Warnings: Grammar mistakes, not proofread, cringy(?) fem-implied reader!

A/n: Hello everyone! I don’t think I will be writing anything like a whole story for a character for a while because I’m feeling a little bit of writer block so I decided I’m probably going to continue to write short little stories like this! With that being said

Please enjoy! <3

Xiao

Was in denial the first time you told him that you were pregnant. But ever since you got your ultrasound and saw his child, he fell in love. Very good at taking care of your pregnancy cravings and your aching muscles. When you go out to buy baby clothes, he buys anything that you want. When you reach the shoe section, he stands in shock as he see the tiny shoes that his own child would be wearing one day and breaks down a little. He’s always there when you need him and is even more weary of your safety now that you have to carry a whole entire other human in your stomach. Whenever you start to feel sick in the morning, he immediately wakes up not that he was sleeping in the first place and goes over to help you. Enjoys putting his ear in front of your stomach and listening to his baby’s kicks! When your water breaks, he’s already panicking and making sure that you have every that you need for the hospital. Cannot stand waiting outside and hearing your screams inside of the room. When you finally finish giving birth, his eyes instantly melt at the sight of your newborn and gives you a quick peak on your forehead thanking you.

Wanderer

If you told any one of his many different identities in the past that he would have a child with the love of his life one day, he wouldn’t believe you. When you revealed that you were pregnant to him, he froze and scared you half to death thinking that he wasn’t happy. He was in fact beyond happy. Happy, scared, excited, concerned, and many other feelings. Could he even be a good father? He was scared. Scared that he would hurt his child in the same way that he was previously hurt. But you reassured him many multiple time over and over that he would be a great father. Throughout your pregnancy, wanderer would surprisingly be really good at taking care of you. When you suddenly wanted to eat dango in the middle of the night, he still went outside to go and buy it for you, even through his look of annoyance. As great as he was taking care of your during your pregnancy, one thing he could not get understand was your random mood changes and emotional state. While watching the news you would randomly start crying in the middle of the weather forecast, saying that upcoming rain in the forecast made you emotional. Through your emotional being, you were also more sensitive than usual. When he wouldn’t eat because he gave most of his food to you, you would start yelling at him to eat and wouldn’t stop til he did so. When you went into labor, he was restless. Pacing back and forth in front of the room like a maniac. When the doctor finally called him in, he felt like he could breathe again. As soon as he saw your tired body holding a little tiny human, he cracked. He walked over to your body and let out a couple of tears he was sobbing.

Diluc

The day he found out that your were pregnant, he was ecstatic. Almost to the point where he had tears filling the brim of his crimson eyes as he embraced you tightly thanking you continuously. Since then your house has been filled with baby clothes, furniture, locks, a whole entire nursery was already built, and even a green house for you to relax in. Your rich husband knows no expense when he is shopping for you and for his unborn one in your stomach. Oh you’re hungry? He’ll buy you an entire gourmet meal. Oh are you tired my dear? He has your favorite blanket, stuffed animals, and snacks all prepared for you. Are you cold? No worries he can just warm you up using his body heat. You just need to stay in his arms! He is the perfect man during your pregnancy. When he isn’t there with you, he makes sure to tell Adelinde to take extra care of you. When you are in labor, if you told someone that he was the held house hold of the Ragnvindr clan and owner of the Dawn Winery, they probably wouldn’t believe you. He is absolutely in shambles hearing your strained screams and people also yelling. Then the world goes quiet as he hears a small little squeal finally coming from the room. He immediately rushes in when the doctor tells him to come and sees you holding your child in your arms. He approaches you and kneels down to see your child more clearly as he uses his big arms to embrace you and your child together.

Childe

As soon as you barely utter the words pregnant to him, he stands in shock for a split second and then immediately picks you up to spin you around. He has a big family and always wanted a family of his own with the one he loves. So when you got pregnant, he was more than grateful to you. Couldn’t wait to tell his family that you were pregnant. He had a really hard time holding in the secrecy of your pregnancy. Every time you both went outside or shopping for baby clothes, he felt the need to include “Oh by the way my beautiful amazing wife is pregnant?” Or “Yea did you know my absolutely gorgeous wife is pregnant with my child?” He needed everyone to know that he was having a child with you. When you are pregnant, he spoils you rotten. Like I mean gifts every single day. You would probably need a whole closet or room to put all of the stuff he gifts you for your baby. Anything baby related, he would have it. Takes extra care of you when you are pregnant. Doesn’t let you touch a single grocery bag, laundry basket, or trash bag, this man will take care of everything for you. When your friend texts him that your water broke, he panics and immediately drops everything to run to you. When he arrives to the hospital, he is all sweaty and out of breath from running so fast. Everything was worth it though because he was there in time for his child’s birth. Instantly goes to hug you and then look at his child with a few tears in his eyes.

[criswritessometimes]

hickey blurbs - (1/3) - schlatt

contents - hickeys, suggestive themes (no actual sex just like grinding), chuckle sandwich (rip babygirl), gn reader, no use of (y/n)

ted charlie

author note // hi! enjoy the first post and i hope you stick around to read any other sick thoughts i have about men in my head :).

it was a lazy day with your boyfriend schlatt, the both of you sitting on the couch all day as you traded off from watching some tv, to other shows, and gaming and rinsing and repeating. this was a rare event since you had a work-from-home day, and schlatt didn’t have to record anything for the day. you slowly wormed your way into sitting on his lap throughout the day. your legs were thrown over one of his, and your back was against his other leg, so you were sitting perpendicular to him and, well, on him. plates sat in front of both of you on the coffee table from dinner, with his beer and your glass of wine on either side. one last email and you promised you would be his for the rest of the night. you finish typing as you ask, “ok how does this sound,” you pause, “carrie, as discussed previously, attached is the reported earning from the last three quarters aand how it affected gross revenue for the year of 2024, growth in the company, as well as total earnings in the company. i will be back in the office tomorrow morning at 8 am to answer anyother questions you may have. have a great rest of your night.” you look up at him to gage his reaction, “isn’t this the like third email you’ve sent to her about this shit?” he asks, moving to grab his beer. “yeah, i don’t know what she doesn’t understand about it.” you look back at your laptop, “but does it sound good?” “i’d send it.” he takes a sip of his beer. you send the email and shut your laptop, reaching over the coffee table to set it down. 

you let out a big stretch which schlatt comments on, “ooo big stretch babe, giving jambo completion.” he chuckles as he places a hand on your thigh and rubs back and forth with this thumb. you finish stretching and lay across him for a moment, collecting your thoughts and enjoying his touch on your thigh. you feel his hand come higher and higher until it reaches your hip squeezing it to let you know his intentions. you look over at him with your eyebrows raised, “yeah?” “you’ve been glued to your laptop all day toots. i need you.” he just about begs. you fake a pout and begin to sit up to move to sit on his lap, “oh poor baby needs me because i had to work all day.” schlatt's hands reach for your sides as you settle into his lap. “can’t even wait, needs to have me right here on the couch, right honey?” you tease. “yeah, kinda.” his voice softens as he looks away from your gaze as he moves his hips away from your core as to not turn himself on anymore. your hand comes under his chin to force him to look at you as you start to grind on his lap, feeling his dick harden. you lean in and meet his lips in a searing kiss as his hands start to lose their grip as he starts to go into a state of bliss. “good jay?” you pull away and kiss under his ear, moving to his neck. “so good baby.” he whimpers out. 

your hips stop moving as you start to kiss his neck; you can sense he’s about to start complaining about it, so you start to suck hickeys onto his neck, stopping his complaints with moans. “wanna make you feel good jay.” you say into his skin, kissing and sucking more leaving dark marks. his hands start to work their way under your shirt, and you feel them on your back, griping and squeezing whatever he can. his neck is a mess at his point; some marks are so purple you’re scared that you accidentally broke the skin. you pull back from him, and your fingers trace the marks around his neck. “i think i might’ve been a little too rough with you, i’m sorry jay.” you lean into his neck to gently kiss the marks as an apology to his neck more than to him. his hand rubs up and down your back, “it’s ok toots, as long as you think they look good.” he smiles as he leans to kiss you on his lips. your hands move up to his hair, and you tangle your fingers in his locks and start to move the both of you so he can lay down with you on top of him. 

as you’re about to start to lay down, schlatts phone starts going off. 

you pull away from him and look over at the phone, then back at him. “it’s probably nothin’,” he states. you start kissing him again, and jay’s fingers find the shirt hem and start to pull it up, wanting it off. 

his phone goes off again. 

as your shirt comes off, you glance over to his phone. “umm, babe, it’s ted.” you pick the phone up, showing schlatt the stupid contact photo he had for ted. he sighs, knowing he probably forgot something ted needed. schlatt starts to sit up, and you hand the phone to him and shimmy off his lap sitting next to him. he answers the phone and puts it on speaker phone, “ello?” he asks, his accent coming back to him. “dude where the hell are you? we’re supposed to record for the podcast tonight.” ted asks over the phone. schlatt throws his head back as his hand rubs over his face. “nah you’re right i totally forgot. i’ll be on as soon as i can.” he hangs up. schlatt kisses you one last time as an apology for the sudden stop, “i’ll see you in hour ok? i wanna pick up where we stopped.” you nod and smile.  he had mentioned this was the last day to record it for the week, so they couldn’t push it another day. he stands from the sofa and makes his way into his office. you put your shirt back on and clean up from dinner. 

you can overhear the start of the conversation between schlatt, ted, and tucker when schlatt turns his computer on. “hey guys, sorry i’m late.” he was still turning his camera on and plugging his headphones in because the next thing you hear is ted, basically screaming, “jesus christ! what the fuc-” you chuckle to yourself as even schlatt hadn't seen his neck until he turned his camera on. “baby!” you hear schlatt call for you from his office, you already knew what he needed and grab the hoodie on the sofa. once you walk in, his eyes greet you, and he has that shit-eating grin on his face. you hand him the hoodie, and he trades you his headphones; you give him a questioning look. “put them on toots, ted has some words for you.” you put the headphones on and get closer to the mic. “hi ted, hi tucker.” you greet him with a sweet smile. “hi yeah, do you know what happened to schlatt’s neck?” ted asks cutting to the chase immediately. you look back at him; he’s scooted closer since the hoodie is on, so the viewers won’t be asking a bunch of questions. you look back at ted, “dunno, probably like a vampire or something.”