#chances are some muses are going to see more attention than others

[grandpa-cephalopods]

I can’t believe I have to make this. Why did Splatoon monthly ban name changing of all things? 

Anyway no one would care enough to guess my muse, but I’m putting in-game equipment sets and screencaps here anyways and updating them as more gear is added in. 

If you see gear crossed out, it means we don’t have it yet. Just understand that’s how poor the state of the gear catalog is on Splatoon 3 right now. We don’t even get Legendary Cap on release version.

-

SPLAT TAG: GranpaCeph #2896 a squid #2914

FC: 0378-9000-0439

Won’t be changing the icons or background since they’re my faves rn

-

DJ Oldtavio/Doctavio

Weapon: Silver Dynamo Roller, Silver Areospray, Splattershot Jr

Head: Lo-Vis Visor, OctoGlasses, 18k Aviators, Any Sunglasses

Body: Aloha Octo Tee, Octobowler Shirt, White T Shirt, Samurai Armor

Shoes: Any Sandals, Octoboots

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Gillian C. Cuttlefish

Weapon: Any Bamboozler, Hero Charger, Any Chargers, Umbrellas, Washing Machine

Head: Legendary Cap, Any Visors

Body: Logo Aloha Shirt, Baby Jelly Shirt

Shoes: Tan Work Boots, Cuttlefish Sandies, Green tennis, any Sandals

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Gaius Takowasa

Weapon: Gold Dynamo Roller, Gold Areospray, Dualies

Head: Samurai Helmet, Knit Caps, Masks

Body: Samurai Armor, Any Jackets

Shoes: Samurai Shoes, Octoboots, Any Boots

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Ao Maguro

Weapon: Explosher, Flingza Rollers, Luna Blaster, Bloblobber, Washing Machine

Head: Any Headphones, Any Headbands

Body: Blue Inky Rider, Collared Shirts, Any Blue Clothing

Shoes: Blue moto boots, Octoboots, Any Boots

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Cuda Arrowana

Weapon: Hydra Splattlings, Gold Dynamo, Hero Splattling, E-Liter

Head: Hairclips or Earphones, Varies

Body: Any Trenchcoats, Any Jackets

Shoes: Any Boots

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Gideon Maguro

Weapon: Buckets, Umbrellas

Head: Any

Body: Takoroka Windcrusher, Takoroka Nylon Vintage, Rainbow Tie-Dye, Neon Shirts

Shoes: Crazy Arrows, Neon shoes

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Mr T / Tartar / Sergio Maguro

Weapon: Splatanas, Blasters, Stringers

Head: Teddy Band, Conductor Cap, Squid Hairclip, Headphones

Body: Squid research coat, School jacket, collared shirts

Shoes: Any

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Octomaw / Kurt Maguro

Weapon: Blasters, Weapons with Reefslider, Weapons with Curling Bomb

Head: Pearlescent Crown, Pilot Goggles, Moto Shades, Masks

Body: Jackets, Sweaters, Samurai Armor

Shoes: Octoboots, Any Boots, Samurai Tabi

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Max Grouper/Captain 3

Weapon: Hero Weapons, Rollers, Splattlings, Splattershots

Head: Legendary Cap, Hero Headset, Squidvaders Cap, Takoroka Mesh

Body: Hero sweater, Any sweaters, Any T-shirts

Shoes: Hero boots, Any Tennis Shoes

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Samuel Takowasa

Weapon: Hero Brush, Hero Dualies, Octobrushes, Any Dualies, Splattershot Pro

Head: Golden Toothpick, Any Headphones

Body: (shaking and crying rn) White Inky Rider, White Sweaters, Black Sweaters

Shoes: Octoboots, Moto Boots

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Phil Takowasa

Weapon: Hero Brush, Stringers, Inkbrushes, Hero Shot, Chargers

Head: Any Headphones

Body: Black Inky Rider, Grizzco Apron, Collared Shirts

Shoes: Octoboots, Moto Boots

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Otto Takowasa

Weapon: Shooters, rollers

Head: Any

Body: T-shirts, Agent shirt

Shoes: Tennis shoes

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Sage (Mun) / A Squid

Weapon: Buckets, Blasters, Rollers, Umbrellas, Weapons with Tenta Missiles or Inkstrike

Head: Takoroka Mesh Cap, Tinted Shades, Bucket Hat, Enchanted Hat, Pearlescent Crown, Headbands

Body: Berry Ski Jacket, Pearescent Hoodie, Pink Hoodie, School Uniform

Shoes: Any Boots, Any Sandals

[arieslost]

reader and little leclerc meeting at a karting comp when they were tiny and growing up charles developed the fattest crush on the reader but only later in his f1 career does she find out. not from charles himself but from carlos who ‘accidentally’ slips up and mentions it

i’m assuming by little leclerc u meant arthur so i hope i was correct 🤞🏼🤞🏼

© arieslost 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

crush | cl16

you always thought charles leclerc had some sort of underlying hatred for you, even though he was nothing but kind to you every time you interacted. maybe it was the way he’d always look at you with what you could only describe as a pained expression, like it hurt to even be in your presence.

not that he had much choice, considering you’d been racing with his brother arthur since the beginning of time.

it never evolved into a career for you, but having formed such a close bond with arthur, as well as the rest of the leclercs, you stuck around. you remained a close friend even after arthur was promoted to single seater racing and you never left karting, not until their father passed and you dedicated all of your time and effort to comforting the family and helping however you could. eventually, that evolved into you working for ferrari in pr and other various communications a year after charles signed to ferrari.

wherever a leclerc was, you were bound to follow.

which leads you to now, having landed in imola a few days before most of the team (including the drivers) to coordinate interviews, filming, photography… the list is endless sometimes, but you love your job. even more so when you’re given the privilege of briefing the drivers on what to expect for the day.

except for the fact that charles comes in and sits down without sparing you so much as a fleeting glance.

that’s how your suspicions had started— when he stopped looking you in the eye. it used to be you who was intimidated by eye contact, those green eyes of his never failing to make your cheeks heat up. but eventually you got over it, and one day you fixed him with a brave stare that left him unable to mask his surprise. and then he stopped looking at you. then the incoherent mumbling started, then the abrupt “i have to go” in the middle of a conversation. you never understood why he was acting the way he was. you still don’t.

“good morning, querida,” carlos greets you smoothly as he enters the room, and you swear you see charles’ brows furrow for a split second.

“good morning,” you smile at him, chancing a look at charles, who is still deeply engrossed in whatever’s on his phone. “there’s a decent amount of things i want to go over with you guys, so i really need you to pay attention.”

you went through the itinerary, pausing every now and then to make sure both drivers were paying attention. charles had shut off his phone, but he was still looking anywhere else but at you. when you caught his eye upon glancing upwards, he looked down at his lap like you had told him he massively screwed something up.

you’ve often thought about confronting him, but to be honest, you could never really come up with a solid reason to do so. if he didn’t want to look at you, that was more his problem than it was yours.

“okay, i think that’s all i have for—” you’re not even finished with your sentence before charles is uttering a hasty “thanks” and rushing out the door.

“you’d think he would’ve caved and told you by now,” carlos muses when the door clicks shut, shaking his head.

“told me what?”

“you know,” carlos begins, rising from his seat, “that he’s madly in love with you.”

“what?!” you exclaim.

“oh, dear,” he continues dryly. “did i say that out loud?”

“carlos sainz, so help me—”

“you’ll have to excuse me, i don’t want to be late to the media pen,” he interrupts, making to leave as well. “i suggest confronting him, that’s probably the only way to get him to talk.”

your opportunity comes after the free practice sessions the next day, where you manage to corner charles as he’s leaving his driver room.

“is it true? do you—” you want to say love me, but the words just won’t come out. they feel too intimate. “do you have feelings for me, charles?”

he opens his mouth, but you don’t give him the chance to respond. “you won’t look at me, you barely talk to me anymore, and it feels like you hate me. so honestly, just tell me anything other than saying you hate me.”

“i don’t hate you,” he says immediately. “not at all— why don’t you come in so we can talk? i don’t want to have this conversation knowing someone with a camera could come around the corner.”

fair point. you allow him to guide you into his driver room, watching as he shuts the door behind him.

“who told you?” he asks.

“carlos. in a weird, unnecessarily cryptic way.”

“classic carlos,” charles huffs, raking a hand through his hair.

“is it true?” you repeat quietly, beginning to fear his answer.

he looks at you. “what if it was?”

“charles—”

he interrupts you now. “i can’t look at you because every time i do i think about how much i want you. i look at you and i wish more than anything that i could hold you, kiss you, make you laugh. things just haven’t been the same since… since papa.”

you reach for his hand, squeezing it tightly in your own.

“and eventually i just couldn’t talk to you, because if i did, everything i want to say would come out… like it is right now,” he smiles shyly.

you never thought you could make charles leclerc shy.

“anyway, i like you. a lot.” he declares, taking on a confident tone. “i’ve had a crush on you for a while, and i’m sorry that it manifested as something else. i don’t expect you to forgive me.”

“maybe…” you begin slowly, watching his eyes light up. “maybe you could take me out.”

he smiles widely, squeezing your hand. “i think i can make that happen.”

“good. i’ll be waiting for your call.” you lean up, pressing a brave kiss to his cheek before exiting the room.

the blush creeping over his cheeks stays imprinted on your mind for the rest of the day. it won’t be the last time you see him that way.

word count: 1,041

masterlist — join my tag list here!

note: this was such a cute request. i hate the ending (when do i not, honestly) so if this flops it’s fully my fault

my inbox is always open for comments, criticism, and conversation! feel free to pop in!

reblogs are greatly appreciated <33

dividers by @/saradika

tags: @venusacrossthestars @67-angelofthelordme-67 @emails-i-can-send @nelly187 @cixrosie @fangirl-dot-com @sainzluvrr @imheretoread @mellowarcadefun @yourbane @monsieurbacteria6 @c-losur3 @papayatori @ssprayberrythings @namgification @maih23 @evlkking @witchycarmen @ilovethispookie @maxverstappenfan79 @sya-skies @sweatrevenge5436-blog @kimis-gloves @mia-rrrs @decafmickey @customsbyjcg-blog @bigheartsthings @tania2748 @scuderiadevils @iloveyou3000morgan @ctrlyomomma @hiireadstuff @daemyratwst @arian-directioner @evelyn-ny @avg-golden-retriever @likedbygaslyy @vintagefucksstuff @piastorys @jisungstuff @personwhoisther @bernelflo @ahgase99 @ferrarisfailedstrats @levidazai @brune77e @watersquirtpewpewboomm

[messrmoonyy]

-What they’re like as your bf/gf (Hcs) 18+

Arthur Morgan, John Marston, Dutch Van Der Linde, Sadie Adler, Molly O’Shea

Request- Hi if it’s okay could I ask for some hcs of some of the gang and what they’re like dating with you? NSFW ones toooo🙈🙊 could you include Arthur, John, Dutch, Sadie, Javier and maybe any of the other girls Mary-Beth or Molly or Karen? Thank you 🙏🏻

A/N- I didn’t include Javier cause I like barely speak with him in camp or anything idk I don’t vibe with Javier tbh. And I saw my chance to word vomit my Molly brain rot and ran with it so she’s the girl I picked. Hope this is okay! Enjoy :)

Masterlist - requests are open :)

Arthur Morgan

- We’ve all seen how he was with Mary. He’d be besotted with you

- His journal would be filled with sketches of you, entries talking about how much he adores you, little notes about how you looked that day or musings about his plans for your future together.

- Definitely doodles a little heart with your initials too <3

- He’s touch starved. So he loves physical contact. A hand to your knee, your back, arm around your shoulders or your waist. He likes keeping you close.

- Brings you stuff from his little travels. Picks flowers for you, finds little trinkets for you.

- Keeps a picture of you by his bed.

- Forehead kisses!!!!!

- Kisses your hand. And kisses to your wrist. He loves when you reach up to cup his face and he can turn to press his lips against your wrist.

- He’s so much more than a tough, burly cowboy. He’s quiet, caring, considerate. And he adores you

NSFW

- takes his time. Likes to work at you until not a single tense muscle is left in your body. Worships you.

- Loves any positions where he can see your face, needs to be close enough to constantly kiss you and tell you how good you are for him

- “ there’s my girl, doin so good for me darlin “ “ jus’ like that darlin, let me take good care of ya “

- Not incredibly vocal, but the noises he does make he ensures are right by your ear.

- Refuses to finish before you ever.

- Loves to finish inside tho. He knows it’s risky, but he loves the closeness. And if he’s feeling particularly risky he’ll definitely push his come back into you with his fingers “ don’t waste it now “

- Grips The headboard.

John Marston

- he’s stupid. He really is. He’ll be head over heels for you, with you clearly reciprocating those feelings and he’d still think you didn’t like him like that.

- Like. You could kiss him and he’d still be like ‘ what are we? ‘

- When he does finally put two and two together he’ll have no shame or cautions in showing you off.

- He’s handsy. Likes coming up behind you when you’re washing dishes for Pearson to rub at your shoulders.

- Or pull you down to sit on his lap before you can even think about taking the empty spot on the log next to him by the fire.

- Overprotective. One tiny snide comment from anyone and he’s ready to start swinging.

- Definitely knows how to push your buttons and wind you up, and will do it just for fun and to get a rise outta you.

- And then spend the rest of day grovelling and apologising.

NSFW

- Loves going down on you. Like. Loves it. The man could spend hours there if you’d let him and Lord has he tried.

- Not very serious most of the time.

- Pretty vocal. And doesn’t really care if anyone’s listening either.

- Like i said, he’s handsy. His hands are restless and will grab at whatever part of you they can.

- Loves when you ride him and has absolutely made a cowgirl joke more than once.

- Will grab at your hips and guide your movements as you do. Told you he’s handsy.

- But also isn’t opposed to you on your back, legs over his shoulders. Presses kisses to your ankles and makes jokes about how good the view is.

Dutch Van Der Linde

- he’s not the most attentive of people at times. He’s constantly in his head and constantly thinking about things that aren’t you.

- But when he does allow himself time alone with you he is disgustingly charming.

- He always knows what to say, always knows the right words to have you melting into a puddle at his feet. You could be in the worst mood with him but a few whispers in your ear and it’s all forgotten.

- Has a million terms of endearment for you. My angel, my dear , my darling. He rarely ever uses your actual name, only when he’s mad.

- Loves to give you gifts, the more expensive the better. And he likes you to show them off too. He likes to show you off.

- Reads to you a lot.

- PDA is afraid of him. He doesn’t care where he is or who’s watching him, he’ll loop an arm around your waist to kiss your neck, pull you onto his lap when he’s reading beside his tent and kiss you. No shame.

NSFW

- will take his time with you but in a far different way to, say, Arthur

- He’ll edge you and overstimulate you for hours, because be gets off on the fact that you simply let him. That you obey his every command.

- Degrading and humiliating 🤝🏻 Dutch Van Der Linde

- He’s never too mean. And his degrading comments are more often than not laced with something sweet.

- Dacryphilic. 100000%. He loves watching you cry because he’s worked you into such an overstimulated mess.

- He’ll swipe your tears away or kiss them from your cheeks “ well isn’t that just a pretty sight? “ “ those tears for me, my angel? “

- Definitely has some kind of authority kink. Likes you calling him sir for sure.

- Loves you giving him head. Just loves you on your knees. It’s a power thing. And he’s a cocky son of a bitch.

- Sat back in his chair and won’t lift a damn finger to help you out, won’t even unbuckle his belt. And don’t tell me he doesn’t smoke whilst he watches you.

Sadie Adler

- She is absolutely not shy about her feelings when she finally accepts she has them.

- Shes just so sweet to you.

- Around camp she’s stuck to you like glue. Her arm is permanently around your waist or your shoulders, or her hand laced with yours and is ready to snap at any intrusive questions from anyone else about it at the drop of a hat

- Love language is gift giving. Just taken in a bounty but found a shiny lil necklace in his pocket? Well. It’s hers now. Or should I say, yours.

- If your hairs long enough she’ll braid it like hers, any excuse to be able to sit close to you and whisper sweet things in your ear.

- Would teach you how to shoot better, she wants to make sure you know how to defend yourself. but also wants the excuse to stand behind you and show you how to hold her rifle properly.

- Big spoon.

NSFW

- Sadie’s gained control over literally everything else in life, and it doesn’t change in the bedroom

- She trusts you whole heartedly but she’s not about to give up any sort of control to you for a While

- Makes sure she can see your face at all times, loves watching your face contort and relax in pleasure that she’s giving you

- Full of praise “ ain’t you just the prettiest thing? “ “ oh look at you! D’ya know how pretty you look from here? “ “ always such a good girl for me “

- Has a thing for putting her fingers in your mouth. Especially after she’s just fucked you with them.

- Having you on your knees eating her out drives her crazy. Will pull at your hair a little too hard but will soothe the sting with a thousand words of praise about how good you make her feel.

- And now hear me out. Loves to watch you. Will book you a hotel room together just so she can sit across the room and watch you touch yourself for her, encouraging you the entire time

- It’s never long before she absolutely has to have her hands on you though in the end.

Molly O’Shea

- sheeeee has some trust issues. And abandonment issues. She’s just… she’s a lot at times.

- But she is fiercely loyal and will love you with every fibre of her being

- And she wants to be loved as fiercely in return. She’ll spiral without constant reassurance “ d’you even love me anymore? “ “did I do somethin wrong? Haven’t told me you love me today “

- She knows deep down you do love her. She’s just afraid.

- She is such a romantic. She loves holding your hand, sitting close to you, doing your makeup like hers and stealing kisses in between painting your lips red

- She’ll write you sappy romantic poetry and leave you lil notes

- You’ll often overhear her gushing to other people about how in love she is too. She just loves to talk about you and how deeply she adores you.

- Likes when you give her forehead kisses.

NSFW

- Pillow princess. End of story.

- She’s not completely submissive though. She’ll tell you what she wants and what she likes

- She just wants to be taken care of okay. She needs to be taken care of.

- Makes the softest, sweetest sounds and will tell you she loves you a million times over.

- Enjoys when things just… naturally happen. Cuddling with you at night, but pushing her hips lightly back against you. Which usually ends with your hand slipping past her waistband and making her come on your fingers.

- Likes to be on top of you sometimes, simply so she can show off whilst she strips. Not to really do anything. Shes really not that much of a giver. She likes being watched. She likes to know she’s desired. And usually it ends up with you dragging her to sit on your face.

- You have to shower her with praise. She wants to know she looks beautiful, that she’s doing well, worship her. Which is incredibly easy for you cause like fucking look at her she’s gorgeous.

- Wraps herself around you when you cuddle after, legs intertwined and arms around you, head buried in your chest or neck. Pls my sweet baby needs to be held.

[atlabeth]

can i request a bridgerton au fic with nikolai? (i was reading not so simple earlier and was thinking about nikolai and now i can’t get the idea out of my head lol) maybe the reader isn’t the diamond of the season, so she has no idea why nikolai (A PRINCE!!) wants to court her

sweet relief

pairing: nikolai lantsov x fem!reader (bridgerton au!!!)

summary: you meet a striking stranger at your first ball, only to discover he is not a stranger at all.

a/n: thank you so much for requesting this man it was so much fun to write i got carried away!!! i hate nikolai and his charming self so much

wc: 3k

warning(s): none that i can think of ??

Nikolai is bored. 

In truth, he does not fully know why he is here. Vasily has already been declared as the catch of the season, and the heir to the throne is much more valuable than the second son. But he is back in London after years spent traveling—not in search of a wife, he might add, to the chagrin of his mother—and he supposes that is cause for some interest. 

In the most basic sense of the word, Nikolai is also a prince, though he hardly has claim to the title. Not with the rumors of his true parentage floating about. 

If he was lucky, he figured he’d find some fun around Mayfair. If he was unlucky, he will be forced to deal with swarms of eager debutantes and even more eager mamas. 

And at this ball, Nikolai has realized that he is unlucky. 

He’s already had to fight off a horde of eligible ladies and their mothers, and explain ten times over that he is not here to participate in the season, he is just here to visit family. He doesn’t think they’ve heard a single word he’s said. They only see the lack of a ring on his finger. 

It is why he has found himself in some corner of the ball, a glass of champagne—that he wished was brandy—held loosely in his hand as he tuned out the idle musings of the men he’d somehow ended up around. His eyes dart around the ballroom, looking for anything even remotely interesting to get him through this night. 

He catches a glimpse of a pair walking through the doors, a mother and a daughter that he recognizes as a debutante from earlier in the day, but before he is granted the chance for further inquisition, his thoughts are interrupted. 

“Your Highness,” someone says, and his attention is drawn from his glass to not just one, but three pairs of mothers and mares, surely trying to vye for his hand. “It is an honor to meet you.” 

“I was unaware of my popularity,” Nikolai says wryly, looking at each of the women in turn. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” 

“The pleasure is all ours,” another mother says brightly, and he sees her nudge her daughter. “If I may introduce my daughter, Miss Eleanor Woodbridge?” 

Nikolai bows his head in greeting, and she curtsies. When Miss Woodbridge speaks, her head is still bowed. “It is an honor to meet you, Your Highness.” 

“So I’ve already heard,” he remarks.

Her cheeks flush bright red as she stands back up, and the next mother begins to introduce her daughter, and then the next—a Miss Evelyn Frances and a Miss Anna Huntsbury. 

Nikolai ends up in a dance with Miss Huntsbury at the nudging of her mother, and though it is perfectly pleasant, he can’t fully enjoy it with all of the eyes on him.

It is not as if he doesn’t enjoy attention. He is perfectly fine with being the center of attention, with being adored by women, with dancing and balls and all sorts of revelry. 

But this— especially after his travels to other countries, away from good society and the expectations of nobles— is so unbelievably predictable. All of these mothers attempting to find their daughter a husband, only interested in Nikolai because of a title he likely won’t earn. He doubts a single one cares of the man behind the Lantsov brand. 

But a second prince is better than no prince at all, and thus the moment he is off the dance floor, he is once again swarmed by women. 

He allows an inward sigh as he plasters on a smile. 

It is going to be a very long night. 

-

You are inexplicably nervous. 

You’ve just debuted and you are already in attendance of a ball. God, why must they hold the season’s first ball the night of all the debuts? You haven’t even had the afternoon to soak everything in—to truly absorb the fact that you must search for a husband—as your mother and lady’s maid spent every moment ensuring you were the image of perfection for tonight. 

In your mother’s opinion, they succeeded. But you already feel as if you are suffocating in your gown.

You are not the diamond, but in truth, you are thankful for it. There is already a huge weight on your shoulders to make a match—you could not imagine having the queen’s eye on you the entire time. You wished luck to Miss Jasmine, both that she could avoid horrendous suitors and the queen’s ire. 

Your mother says your name softly as you cross the threshold into the ballroom, immediately overtaken by the dancing and the musicians and glittering jewels. “Are you alright?” 

You shake your head rapidly. “No, Mother, I do not think I am alright. I am at my first ball of the season and I believe I may pass out.” 

She breathes a loose laugh as she shakes her head as well. “You’ve nothing to be nervous about. You will shine just as you always have, my love. I’ve no doubt that a suitor will see that.”

“That is what I am afraid of,” you huff. “I’ve equal fear both of finding a husband and not finding one. How is one meant to dread both of their options?” 

“You’ve nothing to be nervous about, and nothing to be afraid of,” she repeats, “and certainly nothing to dread. I’m sure by the end of the night, you will have suitors lining up for a chance at your affections.” 

You truly doubt that, but you do not voice anymore of your concerns. Your mother has already done you a favor working through so many of them with you—the least you can do is smile prettily and dance a time or two. 

And you do. More than you imagined—your mother sends you away to fetch glasses of lemonade after a few minutes of idle chatter, and after you’ve poured the first glass you are approached by your first suitor. 

Lord Kenneth Barham, son of the Earl Pritchard. You’ve no idea what a man of title is doing around you, but he is agreeable and kind throughout your first dance. Had you the ability, you would have stayed by his side for the rest of the night only so you could avoid the rest of your expected debutante duties. 

But you do not, and so after a respectful if not slightly boring conversation between the two of you and your mother, he parts ways with the promise to call on you. You are not granted reprieve, to your mother’s delight, and it is not until a near full hour of dancing that you are able to get away. 

You slip away while your mother is busy discussing things with the Baron Ashford and his son, and you have never been so thankful for the outdoors when the cool air hits your skin. 

You let out a long, deep breath as you attempt to calm yourself. Things are going well, much better than you expected—you are already expecting five gentlemen to call on you by the morrow, three of which are titled. 

But you are not even halfway through the ball, and you are already exhausted. Your feet ache and you’ve grown weary of the weight of jewelry on your head and wrists and neck. You’ve truly no idea how you are meant to make it through the entirety of the season, if it is like this. 

“I apologize, my lady. I was unaware there was another out here.” 

You turn around and hold back a sigh. Even in your attempts to be alone, men still find you. 

“I do not have a claim to these gardens,” you say wryly. “You are free to roam.” 

He chuckles as he nods, and he takes another few steps towards you. “I wish not to roam—just to take after you and wrestle out a moment for myself in this schedule.” 

“Then you have picked a wonderful spot,” you say with a nod. “I will give you time to enjoy it on your own.” 

You start on your way, but he steps in your way. “There is no need, my lady. I already rather enjoy your company.” 

You raise your eyebrows. “You have been in it for but a moment.” 

“And what a lovely moment it has been,” he says. 

Normally, irritation would have won over by now. You should not be out here with a man unchaperoned, and you truly just want to be alone for a moment—you’ve a myriad of reasons to stick to your bearings and leave. 

But you have to admit, he is agreeable. His blonde hair is artfully styled, he’s dressed rather finely, and his hazel eyes seem to twinkle as he looks at you with a smile.

“...Alright,” you say, and you decide to stay in place for now. “Have you a name, good sir?”

“You can call me Lord Sturmhond,” he says. 

You raise an eyebrow. “I apologize, my lord. I’ve not yet heard of you.” 

“That just means I am all the more able to make a good impression,” he says, his smile only growing. “Which is rather imperative with a lady such as yourself.” 

You feel your cheeks grow warm, and you bite back a smile of your own. “You are quite the charmer. It could be quite scandalous for us to be found alone.” 

“You needn’t worry,” Lord Sturmhond says. “I doubt anyone will leave the ballroom. They are all too focused on the visiting princes.” 

Your eyes widen. “There are princes here?” 

“The Lantsovs,” he nods, and this time his eyebrows rise. “Had you not heard?” 

“...My mother may have told me, but it would not come as a shock if I neglected to listen,” you say sheepishly. You let out a deep sigh as you wring your gloved hands together. “I should be all the more thankful to be out here with you, then. The only thing to come of my meeting a prince would be disaster.” 

“Oh, I surely doubt it,” Lord Sturmhond says. “I enjoy your presence, and I enjoy your conversation. I believe the princes would feel the same.” 

“You flatter me, my lord, but I am in doubt.” Your gaze drifts off to the sky as you take a moment to appreciate the stars. “Truthfully, I am out here because I am overwhelmed. I’ve spent the hour dancing and in conversation with various men, and already I have had to venture out here for reprieve.” 

“All of this takes practice,” he says. “It is an unreasonable expectation for debutantes to be thrust into the season and perform perfectly. None of this is a light matter, and yet it is treated as one.” 

You sigh. “I just cannot imagine doing this for so many more months. It is going to be a very long season.” 

Lord Sturmhond chuckles. “I have thought the exact same thing tonight, my lady.” 

You find yourself smiling, freer and more genuine than anything you’d mustered earlier in the night. The other men you’d met were fortunately kind, but you just felt… different out here, with him. 

There were no eyes on you, meaning you did not need to act the pinnacle of propriety. That must have been the difference—not the man himself. 

In the distance, you can hear the changing melody of the strings, signaling the start of a new dance. Your eyes fall to your dance card, and as you read the last few names, you remember you still owe three more dances. You bite back a very unladylike curse. 

“I apologize, my lord,” you say, hurrying through a curtsy as you begin to back your way towards the ball. “I really must be going. My mother will have my head should I stay out here any longer.” 

“I understand.” Lord Sturmhond catches up to you in a few quick strides and he takes your hand, stopping you in your tracks. Your breath catches as he presses a kiss to the back of your hand, and your heart hammers in your chest even with the barrier of your glove. 

“It was a pleasure to meet you, my lady.” His hazel eyes are nothing less than enchanting as they focus entirely on you, and had you any less sense, you could easily find yourself talking away the hours of the night with him. “Have confidence. I am sure this night will go your way should you wish it.” 

“It was a pleasure to meet you as well, my lord,” you say. “I hope it is not too forward of me to wish on our meeting again.” 

“Do not worry,” he says. “We will.” 

You open your mouth to ask him how he can be so sure, but the strings grow louder and you huff a sigh. In lieu of another goodbye, you nod and grin at the lord before you rush back indoors. 

Your mother doesn’t berate you when you appear by her side again, so you were not gone for too long. You get through your next three dances, and your last suitor is just leaving when your mother jabs you in the side. 

“Darling, the queen is coming our way,” she whispers. “And she has the Lantsov princes with her.” 

You nearly collapse just at that combination of words, but you hold fast—quite literally, as your hold tightens on your mother’s arm. You are thankful to the Lord Sturmhond for alerting you to the presence of princes tonight, for your shock would be exponential without it. 

“Why are they coming our way?” you ask. 

“They have been making the rounds together,” she says. “Straighten your back.” 

You do, and then you nearly collapse yet again when your eyes meet those of one prince. 

Those gorgeous hazel eyes stare back at yours—you know yours are as wide as dinner plates, despite your attempts to hold back—and he gives you that same damned smile, bowing his head ever so slightly as if to acknowledge your meeting. 

You met the prince. 

You told the prince of all your worries. 

You were kissed on the hand by the prince. 

You only hear your mother saying your name when she nudges your shoulder, snapping you out of your reverie. You blink and look at her, then to the queen.

“Your Majesty,” you rush out, ducking into your best bow, “Your Highnesses. It is an honor to make your acquaintance.”  

The queen greets you and your mother with your surname, and though all your attention is on her, you can still feel the prince looking at you. 

“Have you met my sons, Vasily and Nikolai?” she asks. 

Vasily bows politely, respectful but reserved. “A pleasure, my lady.” 

You curtsy in return, and your Lord Sturmhond steps forward. You are thankful, at least, to put a name to the lying face. 

“It is a pleasure to meet such a beauty,” Nikolai says. He takes your hand and bows down to press a kiss to it, and your skin burns from his touch just as it did out in the gardens. He does not let go when he straightens, instead looking to your mother. “I do not wish to end our meeting prematurely, but I would love to have this dance.” 

“Of course!” your mother exclaims. “It would be her honor, Your Highness.” 

Nikolai nods and smiles, looking back to you for your permission. You nod as well through your haze, and he leads you out to the dance floor. It takes a moment for you to fully come back into yourself, and it only occurs once he has laid his hands in the correct position. His feather light touch is like lightning. 

“I did tell you we would meet again,” Prince Nikolai says, that sure smile on his lips yet again. Had it not been for your years of dance lessons, your weakened knees would not be enough to carry you through this waltz. “Did I not?” 

“...You did,” you say. “But you did not tell me you were a prince.” 

“I find it invites unnecessary pressure,” he says. “Did you not enjoy our time together?” 

“...I did,” you say again, unsure of your words. 

“And I am proven right in your manner,” the prince says. “You spoke so easily in the gardens, and now you seem to be putting thought into each syllable.” 

“You— you are a prince,” you repeat, your still-lingering shock making you speak plainer than you intend. “Of course I am putting thought into my words.” 

“You needn’t worry around me,” Nikolai says. “I am just another man in London.” 

“You are a prince.” 

“As we have established,” he nods, and when you let out a light huff he grins. “You have a lovely smile.” 

“As do you,” you say, and you shake your head. “I cannot believe you allowed me to make a fool of myself out there.” 

Nikolai frowns. “However did you make yourself a fool?” 

“You allowed me to ramble!” you exclaim. “I told you of my worries, of being overwhelmed, of all my thoughts—” 

“And what is the problem with that?” he asks. 

“It is unseemly to complain to a prince,” you insist. 

“We see our meeting quite differently, then,” he says. “For I left it with a most favorable image of you, and a wish to see you again.” He cocks his head. “Did you not leave with the same?” 

“...I did,” you say after a moment. 

Your conversation stalls for a moment as you part from each other, following the steps of the dance, before joining back again. His hand is sure in yours, startling but welcome warmth. 

“Then I do not see the issue,” the prince says. 

“You have made this night all the longer,” you intone. “Your attention makes me something of a target among the ladies of the ton.” 

“Do not worry,” he says, that irritatingly pretty smile aimed at you yet again. “I believe we can get through it together.” 

“Together?” you ask. 

“You wished to meet again,” Nikolai says. “I plan to grant that wish several times over.” 

“...I would like that,” you admit, feeling your cheeks heat under his gaze.

“And just to think,” he says, amused, “you said your meeting with a prince would be a disaster.” 

[heeliopheelia]

"was that your first kiss?" (heeseung x reader)

genre: fluff word count: 0.7k requested by nonnie ♡

a/n: last heeseung drabble for this event!! i had so much fun writing this, i'll probably expand this idea a little more in the future!! im so tired im falling on my face rn so i'll do a grammar check tomorrow!! 🤍

masterlist

It's hilarious, really, how your campus' it boy Lee Heeseung seems to be absolutely smitten with you.

With the mentioned above man hot on your heels like a shadow, you try your best not to get distracted and keep putting the pile of books back on their rightful place on old shelves. Paying no attention to his stubborn tailing you, you bite back a smile at his soft grunt when he stumbles into another table corner for the nth time this hour.

Without no words needed anymore, you hand him one of the books and he automatically slides it onto the top shelf where you can't reach.

This has been going on for about two months now – you spending your afternoons helping the elderly campus librarian putting back the returned books, and Heeseung entertaining you with his presence as he relentlessly tries to work for this date with you that he's been yearning for for such a long time.

"Are you free this Friday?" He asks suddenly and you send him a glance. He leans one shoulder against the tall bookshelf and beams at you. "We have a game at 6, you have to come. I won't be able to make it into the hoop without seeing your pretty little face cheering on me from the stands."

"Sounds to me like you're not that good of a player if you won't," you bite back playfully but don't say no to his offer. The both of you know well that you'll come just as you did the last five times.

Heeseung's smile broadens as he closes the distance between the two of you a little more. "Every athlete needs a lil something to get them going. In my case it's you, my muse."

You can't help but scoff at his blatant flirtation and with a shake of your head you take a step back in an attempt to get a hold of your hammering heart again.

And with a yelp, you trip over the bag that you've carelessly tossed to the floor some hours before, and stumble forward – straight into Heeseung's chest. Not wasting any second more and risking the chance of you backing away, he takes the opportunity of having you this close to him and cups your chin with his long fingers, only to lean down and plant a kiss right on your lips. You freeze in your place, stunned with the sudden new feeling as you heart nearly beats out of your chest.

He pulls away to check up on you, hoping he didn't cross any of your boundaries, but when he sees your sparkly eyes looking at him with such astonishment, face flushed so fucking adorably, he can't help but mold your lips back together again. He nibbles at the plush of your lip gently, thumb sliding to your chin to tug it down slightly and allowing him to deepen the kiss a little more.

There are no thoughts present on your mind other than Heeseung and his stupidly charming smirk and his stupidly confident attitude and his stupidly handsome face that never seems to leave your mind for even a second.

When he pulls away, he's met with your stunned face, eyes fluttering open and gaping right into his. He bites back a laugh as you remain speechless, a fat blush arising on your cheeks.

"Was that your first kiss?" He ends up asking, hand reaching up to brush the stray strand of hair out of your eyes. When all you do is nod your head sheepishly, eyes desperately avoiding his, he lets a wide grin spread on his lips. "Yeah? I was your first?"

You smack his arm gently and feel your ears burning when he catches your hand and intertwines it with his one.

"Shut up." You say and the quiet mutter squeezes at Heeseung's heart mercilessly.

And, god, he's so pathetic. So in love with you that if his teammates caught him in such state, he probably wouldn't hear the end of it until the day of his graduation.

"So you'll come? Right?"

With a roll of your eyes you close the distance parting your faces and mumble into his lips, "Yes, you idiot."

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[mehiwilldoitlater]

*crawls in through opened window* Hi, hello,you done goofed, and I am back. May I humbly request on behalf of all of us monke simps if we may have a continuation of my previous request? Maybe a little while after our journey with the destined one had started,maybe some blossoming romantic tensions of sorts? 👀👀? Pretty please, oh glorious author?

"~ Came on, Barbie, let's go party!"

"~ah ah ah YEAH!"

"This song is worse than hearing my sisters bickering."

How could someone predict that the recovery of your cellphone, with still all your music insider, could have led to a night of fun and drinks in the Zodiac Village?

It wasn't the first time that you and the Destined One used that place as a place for rest, such as a hiding spot for the fourth spider sister, but that was the first time that the stop became an actual party.

"Aaah, young one, cheer up! The music may not be of your king, but the spirits are high tonight!"

Even Chen mused, taking the chance to relive the cul of the young yaogaui. Despite her unamused looks, just like her new master Yin, too focused on his blacksmith projects to care about your party, she seemed more relaxed than usual. 

At the ending of the song, you finally stopped spinning with Shen, laughing while Xu kept on clapping his pawns together in a thunderous laugh.

"Marvelous, marvelous! Such fun! Oh, how I missed these days, brothers!"

"Here, younger sister! Have another drink! Let's have fun tonight; Destiny can wait!"

"Thank you, Brother Shen!"

You gladly gulped another cup of the new liquor that Shen Monkey was able to distill from some fruits. It was sweet to your tongue—far too much of your king.

"Easy there," your friend monkey said, putting his own cup on the ground. "We don't want you having a hangover tomorrow!" 

"I can handle some alcohol!"

"Let her have some fun! We're with friends! No enemy, no celestial realm, no Yaoguais, only friends, little brother!"

Shen laughed while saying this, putting more wine in the Monkey Cup again. The song slowly faded, then another one started. You recognized in one second, remembering your evergreen era.

"Ooh! This one is a love song from my world! Here here!"

You laughed, grabbing Spider's hand, invincing her for a small dance. She sighed, obliged you in your fun, sure that you'll maybe regret it for your childish behavior in the morning. Without a care, you even started to sing again to this new tune.

"~L is for the way you look at me,

~O is for the only one I see,

~V is very, very extraordinary,

~E is even more than anyone that you adore can!"

During your dance alongside Spider, Shen looked quite pleased. The first time he saw you, you were a trembling mess, always afraid of the new Yaogaui ready to eat you whole, and now you were just part of their world, like if it was always supposed to be this way. He chuckled a little, nodging to the other simian.

"Well, look at that. I believed that the Biàn huà was supposed to be-"

He stopped After his eyes fell on the younger monkey. 

His face was supported by his hand; he sat on the ground, his attention completely on you and your dance. His eyes were filled with such adoration that Shen wondered if even other deities had ever gotten the chance to be looked at that way. The breath of the monkey was deep and slow, like he was holding his breath, such that his attention was only on you. His tail moved slowly, almost mimicking or following you.

That glint in his eyes...Shen smiled a little, taking another sip from his cup./

//////

"And here I thought you could hold your alcohol."

Monkey smiled while covering you with your blanket. The fire that accompanied your little gathering was now long dead; everyone was calling for the night, especially the two of you since this one was just a small stop on your journey. You needed it, he thought, thinking on how much you endured and how much you became strong in the recent weeks.

In your sleep, you grabbed his hand, searching for the security of his own presence. That gesture made his chest warmer, more for the liquor that he ingested before. He caressed, taking your mind at ease. Where was he supposed to go without you, his beloved friend?

He strechet; he still needed to check on his armor with Yin, so he started to take his way out from Chen house, which he gladly decided to share with you two.

"It was a nice party; the view was... amazing too."

Shen was sitting on his usual spot, taking advantage of the still-burning furnace of his friend Xu. Despite the amount of liquor consumed, he still was holding another gourd, his cheeks holding a darker shade of color.

"The view?"

Asked monkey, confused by the forefather statement. Shen rose up, helping himself by holding the younger hand and putting his arm behind his neck. Enough space to talk, not enough to be heard.

"I noticed... That look on you came on; don't be shy with your forefather; tell me everything!"

"I'm afraid I don't follow."

Shen looked at Monkey, between some curiosity and suspicion. Was he really that stupid to haven't noticed something about himself?

"About our lovely friend, lady Y/n... don't tell me your feel nothing!"

"Of course not! I care for her! She's my friend!"

"I mean deeper..."

"Uh.. well, she's... courageous and... kind and... She has shown to have a God heart, and she's funny, and-"

"Okay, okay, so you... like her?"

"Of course I like her; she's my friend!"

Shen looked at him in indisbelief. Then he started to laugh, so high that Monkey feared that he would wake up everyone.

"I can't believe it! Little Brother, you're clearly falling for the lady! A deep fall!"

Monkey held his breath; he couldn't believe what he was hearing! Shen kept on snickering like a child, moving his tail like never before.

"I'm not! We're Just... We Need to... It's inappropriate!"

"Aaaaaw, you're like a cub learning about the beauty of the love season! Ah, love...the worst liquor! Sweet on the tongue, the worst hangover at the end."

He was even making fun of him! The furr of the younger was all Shaggy for the mocking from the eldest! Why he needed to point it out something so embarrassing! Gods, he was lucky that you were deep asleep in front of the alcohol; the idea to be even mortified in front of you was an awful idea!

"I suggest you take your step a little faster! I heard that your precious little Y/N is becoming quite popular."

"UUUGH!...I gave up!"

And so, between the laugh of the elders, Monkey marched to Yin forgery. He wanted nothing more than to avoid the subject! Damn, he preferred to be forced to fight the tiger even instead to think about it!

You and him together?! Absurd! You two were companions, friends! He promised you to get you home, and that was it! Nothing more, nothing less!

But, for some reason, that thought brought him a feeling of... loss. Once it was over, once Sun Wukong revival, you'd be gone. No more adventures, no more parties, no more talk between the two of you.

You'll be back to your normal and mundane life, and he'll be the monkey that helped the resurrection of the Great Sage...

And about the idea of others courting you, he felt uneasy, even angry! But it wasn't nice! Of course you would strike someone; you were amazing! And yet he didn't like it... No, he didn't like the idea of you with someone.

...Oh boy...

He started to run towards the tiger, hoping that a few strikes from him would free his mind from these thoughts. 

@sun-jglim

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[ellethespaceunicorn]

Sometimes The Silence Guides A Mind

Title: Sometimes The Silence Guides A Mind

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes x Reader

Fandom: Enola Holmes series

Word Count: 1.7K

Summary: As you were getting close to Sherlock, he stops visiting. You pop over to Baker Street and share an eye-opening moment.

Warnings: age gap(reader is about 20 in this, Sherlock is mid-30s), slight voyeurism, masturbation (male), handjob, unprotected p-in-v sex (wrap it up y’all), creampie

A/N: I’ve been throwing around this idea about Sherlock for quite some time. I hope you enjoy it. Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best.

Dividers by: @firefly-graphics

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

My Masterlist 

You’ve been friends with Enola for a short time, only since the beginning of the year. She’s led you on a few fun adventures, but more often than not, she’s led you on wild goose chases. She has helped you come out of your shell and you are grateful for that. On days that you weren’t exploring the countryside or causing a ruckus in the city, you would lounge around her large house. 

Spending time with her in her large house had its benefits. One of which was 6’1 with a head of unruly curls. The famous Sherlock Holmes was your best friend’s big brother. He lived in the city but came to visit Enola every week. 

You always made sure to be available on those days. If only for the chance to say hello to Sherlock. You wanted more but, truth be told, he made you a bit nervous.

You tried your best to keep calm when he would arrive, but Enola noticed your demeanor change every time. She teased you endlessly about your little crush and you would always bring up Tewkesbury. That would usually shut her up.

In truth, she did not care that you liked her brother, she just didn’t want you to waste your time. The man was not exactly sociable unless he found value in the opinions of others. One opinion he respected was that of his sister. You could sit and watch them talk for hours. She would get him to laugh with her jokes, and he would bring her to annoyance with his riddles.

You would interject a thought here and there and when Sherlock would give his attention to you, you froze. Something about the look in his eyes, it was more than attention. It was intense as if the two of you were the only ones in the world let alone the room.

More than once, Enola had cleared her throat loudly to get you and Sherlock’s attention back on her. But sometimes, she would just listen to you ramble on while Sherlock seemed enthralled in your thoughts. You mused about music and how interesting you thought his cases were. The more you spoke with him, the more comfortable you felt around him. 

Sherlock would show up now and then with little trinkets from his cases. At first, it was just things for Enola, but soon he would start bringing you little gifts as well. He started small with a single flower or a tasty treat from his favorite bakery. But soon, his gifts grew oddly specific. He bought you a brooch you had mentioned seeing at a store in the city. He would learn pieces of music from a composer you talked about and play it for you, much to the chagrin of Enola who wasn’t a fan of the violin.

It was when he didn’t visit for two weeks that you started to realize you were developing feelings for the older detective. You’d come to enjoy his presence and not because of his gifts. You just enjoyed seeing his face light up when he saw you. You relished the power you felt when the normally unflappable and distant man would sit enthralled when you gave voice to your thoughts. 

So, why did it stop so suddenly? Had you done something to offend him? 

You wracked your brain and Enola’s brain for that matter. She gave you his address so you could go and talk to him and she could finally be free of your fretting. 

You arrive at 221 Baker Street, your hands trembling as you knock on the main door. A sweet woman opens the door and introduces herself as Ms. Hudson. When you ask to speak to Sherlock, she sends you up the steps to 221B.

As you’re about to knock, a man opens the door and almost collides with you.

“Oh, I’m terribly sorry. May I help you, Miss?” 

“Ehm, I’m here to see Mr. Holmes…but I can come back if that’s–” You are cut off when he speaks again.

“You wouldn’t happen to be friends with Enola, would you?” You nod, giving your name, “Of course, Sherlock mentioned you. I’m Dr. John Watson, and I have to be going but you are more than welcome to come in. Sherlock is just in his room down the hall.” He points around the corner from the door and walks past you before waving goodbye.

So, that’s how you end up in Sherlock’s apartment. It is eerily quiet and you think he might be asleep. That is until you hear soft moans coming from down the hall. Your first thought is it must have been the floorboards creaking under your feet.

What you hear next is the unmistakable sound of your name followed by a whimper. It sounded like Sherlock was calling to you, but how would he know you were here already? You walk down the hallway quietly and see that his bedroom door is slightly ajar.

Peeking in, you are blessed with a sight! Sherlock is laid out on his bed with his shirt and waistcoat open, his hairy chest on full display as it rises and falls quickly. His beautiful face constricted in pain one second, solemn and peaceful in the next. His curls are a sweaty mess on his forehead. One hand is fisting the sheets at his side and the other hand is wrapped around his thick veiny dick. You’re mesmerized watching him stroke himself until you hear him moan your name again.

In a moment of bravery, you step into the room. Your bosom heaves in your bodice as you breathe shallowly, adrenaline coursing through your veins. 

His hand stops its ministrations and he looks to you as you walk towards him. He’s frozen on the spot and can only watch you as you climb atop the bed and lay next to him. You replace his hand with yours and continue to pump his dick. Your hand barely fits around him and you enjoy the feel of his soft uncut length in your hand.

His hands come up to caress your face and pull you down for a kiss. When his tongue begs for entry, you allow it in. Heatedly, you mold your mouth to his, letting your moans and whimpers be consumed by him. Breaking the kiss, he looks into your eyes and you can tell he is close.

You remove your hand from him and stand up from the bed. It is only when you remove your undergarments does Sherlock understand why you stopped. Climbing back on the bed, you settle yourself with your cunt dripping onto him.

“I want you to be certain that you–” You cut him off as you slink down, his velvety smoothness sliding inside your wet heat. You take a moment to get used to the sheer size of him. He stretches you almost painfully. Leaning down, you whisper into his ear.

“Do I seem certain, Mr. Holmes?”

Instead of an answer, Sherlock groans and twitches inside you. His hands travel under your skirt and rest on your hips. You take that as a sign and sit up. With your hands on his chest, you begin to ride him slowly, agonizingly to the point where his hands start to guide you to a quicker pace. 

Using you like a ragdoll, he flips you so he is atop you while you are on your back. He slams into you repeatedly and you are no longer in control. He savors the sounds coming from you as he fucks into you. He urges you on as he kisses and licks and nips at your neck, careful not to leave any marks.

Pulling out, he moves you to your hands and knees before inserting himself again. The angle allows him to go deeper and you thank the Gods for it. As he holds onto you, he hammers into you. The filthy utterances that come from his mouth only serve to solidify the notion that he missed you too.

“I knew you would feel like Heaven, my sweet angel…”

“This pretty pussy belongs to me now…”

“You would look so perfect with my cum dripping out of you…”

“I could fuck you all day and night and still never get enough of you…”

“Be my good angel and come all over my cock,” He reaches down and rubs your clit between two fingers as he plows into you. You never stood a chance, your walls quivering around him within moments, “That’s my good girl. So good…for me. Fuck, so close!”

“Sherlock, please! Need you to fill me with all you have to give!” You surprise yourself and your lover with those words. 

Sherlock’s answering grunts as he makes mincemeat of your pussy are music to your ears. His punishing thrusts falter and he pulls you flush to him. He’s deep enough to kiss your cervix with the tip of his dick. You feel him swell inside you and it’s enough to make you climax again, milking him through his release. 

And the noises he makes when he comes are more intricate than the 24 Caprices. You’re sure that Sherlock would disagree but you don’t even care. You revel in the melody of his moans and surrender to its hold on you.

Sherlock’s hands roam over your back, your hips, your ass, and your thighs. As if he can’t get enough of you. He doesn’t pull out until you wiggle your hips, a sign that your legs are tired. Extricating himself from your sensitive folds allows his spend to escape. He catches what slips free and pushes it all back in before helping you lay down on your front.

He lays down next to you, pulling you close to him with one arm while the other rests behind his head. He looks so peaceful as he closes his eyes and hums. The feminine urge for pillow talk is high, but so is the need to just bask in this moment.

You’re in the arms of the man you care for, who also adores you. You rest your cheek on his shoulder and tangle your fingers in his chest hair. You breathe in his smell, his pheromones are surely on high alert from your activity. When he rests his head against yours, you feel at peace.

You do plan on talking to Sherlock later about everything. But, for now, you can take pleasure in the simplicity of the harmonization of your heartbeats.

A/N: The title of this fic is taken from The Neighborhood’s Sweater Weather. There is an amazing violin version of this song by Joel Sunny. And anything violin makes me think of Sherlock.

A/N: Also, I know Ms. Hudson wasn't featured in Enola Holmes, but I love her as a character and I wanted to use her.

**Tag List**

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Let me know if you wanna be added (or removed) 😁

[ihatealimore]

Honey Whiskey

(word count: 2,135)

As Kurapika sits beside Leorio at the bar, he observes his friend chatting energetically while downing a mug of beer quickly. Occasionally, Leorio flashes a wink at the bartender or any woman who approaches the general vicinity of the bar.

Initially having no intention to drink himself, Kurapika finds his resolve wavering when Leorio brings up how (Y/N) would often join him for drinks. Perhaps indulging in one or two beverages wouldn't be such a bad idea after all...

"How's your drink, Kurapika? Do you like it?" Leorio prods him after finishing his beer and setting the glass back down on the bar.

Kurapika picks up the glass of whiskey his friend had ordered for him, examining the transparent liquid with an indifferent gaze. He takes a small sip, the drink burning down his throat and making his eyes water slightly, "It's strong."

Leorio easily became distracted by the bartender taking his empty glass and walking away. He turns in his chair to face Kurapika, hopefully asking, "Oh, do you think she would give me her number?"

The blonde-haired man casts a glance towards the bartender then back at Leorio who keeps trying to make flirty eye contact with her. He sighs lightly and takes another sip of his whiskey, "Leorio," He starts in his usual stern tone, "Your chances would be better if you behaved more maturely."

"You're so mean," Leorio pouts, crossing his arms petulantly, which was really only proving Kurapika's point, "Girls like me! I haven't gotten anyone's number yet but-"

Kurapika interrupts him with a smirk, "Failing to get any numbers isn't exactly convincing evidence in your favor, is it?" 

The alcohol was starting to loosen his normally iron grip on his composure.

"You'll see!" Leorio chugs down another mug of beer, earning a chuckle from his friend, "What about you and (Y/N)? What's going on there?"

Kurapika's laughter quickly fades at the mention of your name and his gaze drops to his own drink, "There's nothing going on," He responds stiffly, avoiding Leorio's teasing gaze.

"But she talks about you a lot and it seems like you guys spend a lot of time together," Leorio is quick to point out to him.

The Kurta takes a moment to process Leorio's words, his grey eyes flickering with surprise. He had never realized you talked about him outside of work, let alone 'a lot.' 

"She... Talks about me?" He questions slowly.

"Yeah, all the time!"

"Really?" Kurapika's eyebrows went up, a rare show of surprise on his normally impassive face. He takes another sip from his drink to hide the sudden flush on his cheeks.

As the night progresses, Kurapika indulges in a few more drinks, thinking he knows his limit. He was wrong. He finds himself thoroughly intoxicated, while Leorio roams the crowded bar, talking to anyone who will look his way.

A presence in the seat beside him and an all too familiar voice draws his attention, "Kurapika, I didn't expect to see you here."

He turns to see none other than (Y/N) smiling at him, your eyes twinkling with amusement, "(YN)," Kurapika greeted, a bit too enthusiastically and louder than he had intended.

His mind is swirling but he's able to recognize your voice instantly. How strange. He needs to regain control of himself before you realize how drunk he is.

"Leorio dragged you here, huh?" You remark with a chuckle, flagging down the bartender to order a drink, "Is that whiskey? I'm surprised."

Trying to regain some sense of control over his inebriated state, Kurapika responds a little more defensively than he meant to, "Leorio wanted company and... It's not bad."

"Let's agree to disagree. Whiskey is disgusting," You say as you take your own drink from the bartender, thanking them before taking a sip.

Despite his drunken state, Kurapika finds himself chuckling along, playfully stating, "Then I suppose it's a good thing I'm the one drinking it."

"We can agree on that. I figured you weren't much of a drinker," You muse with a teasing grin.

"I'm not... Usually," He admits as he lets his gaze drift towards you, "But it seems there's something about being around you and Leorio that encourages such behavior."

You can't help but let a laugh slip from your lips, "Mostly Leorio though, right?" You wonder as your eyes scan the bar, trying to spot him, "He wandered off and left you here, huh?"

Kurapika nods, more as a confirmation to himself than to you, "Yes, typical Leorio," He mutters with a faint smile on his lips.

"Very typical," You finally make eye contact with Leorio from across the bar, offering him a friendly wave.

A sudden, unexpected pang of jealousy flares up in Kurapika's chest. It's a new and confusing sensation that he quickly tries to dismiss, "(Y/N)," He finds himself blurting out without thinking, "I don't want you to look at Leorio."

He surprised himself with his burst of possessiveness. It seems the alcohol is revealing parts of him even he wasn't aware existed. But it also feels genuine. He wonders if this feeling has been hiding somewhere deep inside all along.

"Eh?" You tilt your head in confusion, your brow furrowed, "Why's that? Did he do something stupid?"

"No, it's just..." He hesitates before leaning in closer, his inebriated mind deciding to spill everything, "I want you here with me," He confesses, his eyes locked on yours.

Your eyes widen in surprise before a knowing smile forms on your lips, "Oh, I get it. You're drunk, aren't you?"

Caught off guard, he blinks at you a few times before laughing weakly. His face flushes more than it already was from the alcohol as he admits, "Hmm, maybe."

A chuckle escapes your lips at his hesitant admission, "I never thought I'd see the day."

"Neither did I," He replies, finding himself smiling back at you, "It's strange but not entirely unpleasant."

"It's cute, you know," You begin, "To see you act more open. And maybe even a little jealous?"

"Cute?" He echoes, his brows knitting together at the unfamiliar word. At your insinuation, his face turned a darker shade of pink, "I... Maybe."

No one has ever described him as cute before. And you noticed the jealousy too. Maybe it was more obvious than he thought.

"Don't worry," You reassure him, setting your hand on top of his, "You have my full attention."

He stares at your hand on his, his mind swimming in a heady mixture of alcohol and emotions. With a small nod, Kurapika responds softly yet sincerely, "Thank you, (Y/N)."

You take another sip of your drink, adding, "I'm all ears. We can talk about anything you would like."

He blinks at you, feeling a slight sobering effect from your words. He isn't sure why but he trusts you in this moment more than anyone else, "I want to talk about us."

Is this what people call 'liquid courage'?

"Us?" You contemplate, "What about us?"

"Well..." The Kurta begins, fumbling for words. His inebriated mind is struggling to find the right ones until he finally manages to say, "I suppose... How we feel about each other."

You're caught off guard by his words, speechless for a moment before nodding, "Sure, but are you okay to talk about this while drunk? I don't want you to say anything you'll regret."

"I... I think it's okay," He mutters, not quite trusting himself but feeling like he needs to say this, "I want you to know how much I appreciate your presence in my life."

Even if the words are slurred and uncertain, they come from a place deep within him, one that holds enormous respect and affection for you. It doesn't matter if it's alcohol-induced or not. These feelings are real.

You find yourself smiling at him reverently, the next words falling from your lips easily, "The feeling is mutual."

Hearing those words from you, Kurapika can't help but feel a sense of relief washing over him. He offers you an appreciative smile in return and whispers softly, "I'm glad," Watching you take another sip of your beverage, he bites his tongue in vain, unable to stop the next words from slipping out of his mouth, "(Y/N), I feel more than just appreciation for you. Much more."

"Much more?" You question him, echoing his confession. 

Kurapika takes a deep breath, trying to shake off the dizziness brought on by his sudden admission, "I think I might have feelings for you."

The words are out in the open now and there's no taking them back. As terrifying as it is, part of him feels relief, maybe because they were so long overdue.

Silence hangs in the air around him for a lingering moment until you look up from your drink, your eyes boring deeply into his, "I'm glad it's not just me then."

His heart pounds loudly in his chest as he digests your words. A smile slowly spreads across Kurapika's face, visible relief wrapping around him, "You feel the same?"

He never allowed himself to entertain this possibility but you have feelings for him too? It feels like a dream, too good to be true. Yet, it's real.

"Is that surprising?"

"A bit, yes," Kurapika admits, his honesty shining through even in his drunken state, "I didn't think someone like me could evoke such feelings."

You raise an eyebrow at his statement, wondering, "What do you mean by that?"

"I mean... Someone who is so focused on their past, and vengeance, and," He pauses momentarily before murmuring, "Someone who doesn't know how to love or be loved."

He has always been aware of his shortcomings when it comes to emotional connections. But having them brought to the surface like this makes him feel vulnerable yet eager at the same time.

"But those things don't define you, Kurapika. I like you for who you are," You explain, setting your drink down to take both of his hands in yours, "You're intelligent, stubborn, annoyingly so sometimes. But most of all, you're caring and kind."

His heart warms at your words, a genuine smile tugging at his lips, "You really think so?"

"I know so. You're someone that means a lot to me," You confess, squeezing his hands gently while maintaining eye contact.

"And you..." Kurapika begins, his gaze softening, "You're strong, resilient. You have this knack for understanding people that's truly remarkable. Despite your own stubborn nature," He gives a small chuckle at the thought, "You are incredibly patient and kind-hearted."

"That's very sweet of you," You respond with a smile, feeling touched by his words.

"You're beautiful, (Y/N)," He adds hesitantly, his heart pounding in his chest, "Not just outwardly but your soul too. The way you handle situations with grace and understanding, the strength that shines through when times are tough. It's all incredibly captivating."

It feels both invigorating and terrifying to be this open about his feelings towards you. But seeing you smile at his words makes it all worth it. You've always been his pillar of support when things get tough, someone he deeply cares about.

"I like seeing this side of you," You muse softly, "Drunk Kurapika is a real sweet talker."

Kurapika gives an amused chuckle at this, nodding in acceptance, "Well, I can't promise this sweet-talking version of me will stick around once the effects wear off, but it's nice to know you aren't entirely opposed to it."

"Not at all," You reassure him, "Though I do wonder how much of this you'll remember in the morning."

Kurapika lets out a hushed sigh, raking his fingers through his blonde locks, "I'm not sure. But if I forget... Would you remind me of this conversation?"

"Of course, I will," You agree with a nod before teasing him with a small smirk, "If you weren't so drunk, I'd be inclined to kiss you."

Kurapika feels his heart skip a beat at your words. He blinks, stunned and somewhat hopeful as he responds weakly, "I am... Not that drunk."

Your suggestion brings an unexpected flutter in his stomach. A mix of excitement and nervousness floods over him at the thought that you might want to kiss him too, just like he has found himself wanting on multiple occasions since you and him started opening up about your emotions towards each other tonight.

You snort out a laugh, "Oh, is that so? Can you say your ABC's backwards?"

"Z, Y..." Kurapika begins before stopping and groaning. His mind is too clouded to think clearly enough for a complex task such as this, "You're asking the impossible, (Y/N)."

"That's adorable," You reach out to ruffle his hair playfully, "I appreciate your attempt."

He gives a wry smile at your comment, swatting your hand away gently from his hair, "You're enjoying this too much."

"How could I not?" You muse with a laugh, adding, "How about this? I'll owe sober Kurapika a kiss."

Kurapika heart flutters in his chest, "Then I'll make sure to remind you of your promise when I'm sober, (Y/N)."

Even in his increasingly intoxicated state, this one promise from you holds a significant importance for him. A vow that brings forth an exciting anticipation within his chest. Maybe drinking wasn't such a bad idea after all. 

[rivangel]

question

psychology speaking...how do you think Levi would approuch love? if he ever will? do you think there's a chance he would?

based on his well...personality. how do you think Levi would be like if he ever got into a relationship? or maybe in a very closely knitted friendship, bordering something more than just that.

or just in general, how do you think he is with for example Hange and Erwin in the way of treatment, showing care, etc...?

and by the way, your analysis of Levi are *chef's kiss*. literally. I love your account 🫂

thank you! :D ngl, i got overwhelmed by your question because there's sooo much i wanted to say SO SO much😭over the years i've said a lot, so i've grouped everything on this topic together:

Levi and your romantic relationship, and in general.

both for future convenience—because a lot of these headcanons have gotten buried in the levi thoughts tag—and as a convenient masterpost falling under this hot topic :)

first, basically the answer to your question lol

how Levi is once he's fallen in love + how it might come to the surface + soon after

the way to his heart is...

but in my opinion, his type of partner

what a new relationship with Levi is like

he's protective in particular

maybe to a (mostly harmless) fault

if he almost loses you

Levi’s main love language is acts of service

like this :')

and this!

he shares❤️

his kind of love

every single conceivable romantic or flirtatious signal will go right over his head.

how it's like seeing Levi cry (how he deals with conflict in a relationship and seeking comfort)

how does he sleep with a partner?

would Levi be the kind of person who loses an argument because he gets emotional? or because he just doesn't wanna fight with you?

other things about arguing

intimacy at the beginning

physical affection is scary

when you show him you want him... :') precious

he reallyyy likes attention later, but he doesn't know how to initiate it...

sex is a precious topic

and if it goes wrong...

but in general?

some more musings.

specially domestic headcanons

will he make the first move?? yeahh don't hold your breath.

does Levi get jealous in a relationship?

his reaction to you showering him with love

why would he leave?

[theemporium]

Ooh, what about you catch the eye of one of the marauders in a shop in hogsmeade? I don’t know, I’m new at this requesting stuff

thank you for requesting!🖤

.

James took back every single complaint he made when Remus dragged him into Hogsmeade’s bookstore the second he saw you.

After making his friend help him out with some extra quidditch practice, it was only fair that James returned the favour and helped his friend to run some errands in Hogsmeade on a Saturday morning—at an an hour that felt illegal to even be up and running around, not that James said as much…more than once, at least.

Remus had dragged him between shops and for the most part, James was just happy to follow him about and entertain himself in stupid ways that would make his friend smile. But the second Remus mentioned the bookstore, he couldn’t help but let out a groan. Merlin knew how long Remus could spend in that shop, they could be there all day. 

But then he followed his friend in, the little bell above the door dinging to make their presence known and he saw you. 

You were sitting behind the counter, a book in hand and a cup of coffee sat beside you as you idly read your book. You lifted your head at the bell, giving both boys a warm smile before returning your book. 

One look and James was absolutely smitten. 

“So, uh,” James cleared his throat, trying to act as casually as he could as he followed Remus down one of the aisles. “Who’s the girl at the front?”

Remus froze, book in hand, as he turned with an incredulous look on his face. “Really?”

“What?” James asked.

“We have first period herbology with her,” Remus told him with a small smirk on his face. “You’re just too busy napping at the back to notice her, clearly.”

“What? Moony, don’t play with me right now,” James grumbled as he quickly followed the other wizard further into the shop. “I would have noticed her in the corridors at least.”

“Clearly not observant as you think, Prongs,” Remus mused. 

James spent the rest of the trip bothering Remus out of any little fact he could get out of the boy about you. Even the smallest of details, he wanted to know. And when Remus said he didn’t know any more, he had all but yanked the books out of his hand under the kind guise that he was going to pay for them. 

Remus knew better than that but he let James do so.

He approached the counter with a charming smile on his face as he placed the pile of books down. “Hey there.”

You lifted your head, giving the boy a smile as you marked your place before setting your book aside. You turned your attention back to James and the pile of books as you began to check them out.

“Hey, find everything you were looking for?” you asked politely.

“Almost everything,” James told you.

“Oh?” you questioned, raising your brows in interest. “If there’s a specific book or something I could—”

“I was wondering when your shift ended here,” he spoke suddenly, watching as a flash of confusion washed over you.

“Uh, not until three,” you murmured, noting the way the boy eagerly nodded.

“Any chance I could convince a pretty girl like you to grab a drink after work?” he asked with a hopeful look. James Potter was nothing but a charming man, even when he seemed a little nervous.

You bit back your smile. “Pretty girl, huh?”

“The prettiest,” James confirmed with a nod.

“I’ll meet you outside the shop at three then,” you said as you told him the amount he needed to pay before handing him the bag of books. “Enjoy your erotica in the meantime.”

James’ eyes widened comically as he glanced down at the book, his cheeks flushing furiously as he took the bag. “Uh, thanks.”

“See you later, Potter.”

James cleared his throat, muttering a ‘see you later’ back at you before grabbing the bag and quickly making his way towards Remus who looked as though he was holding back his own laughter. 

“Erotica?” James deadpanned. “Really?” 

But Remus only shrugged in response. “Just wanted to see if you were paying attention or not.”

.

[rangerbarbz]

Music and the Muse

Disclaimer: hey yall! This is a story I’ve had on my mind while ive been on my trip, and I just had to write it out. It’s a bit different than my usual one shots, but I just thought this was so cute. Please enjoy!

Summary: Ford goes to Greasy’s Diner one night for some dinner and meets a gorgeous singer

Ford Pines was exceptionally hungry after a long day of researching the oddities that seemed to be in abundance in the town of Gravity Falls, Oregon. However, with no culinary skills whatsoever and no canned goods to be seen in his house, he decided to head to Greasy’s Diner for some late-night breakfast food. What he didn’t know is that every Friday night, a beautiful woman had been serenading the patrons of this cozy restaurant.

He walked in and found a seat at the bar where he ordered a cup of coffee and a plate of eggs with toast. He was so focused on eating that he didn’t notice the woman that appeared at the front of the diner. You were holding an acoustic guitar and had placed a microphone stand in front of you.

“Hello Greasy’s Diner! How are we doing tonight?” you asked the audience with a smile on your face. The few people that were there grunted in response. “Great! So glad to hear that,” you responded, enthusiasm unwavering. “So tonight, I’m going to start off with ‘Coal Miner’s Daughter’ by the lovely Ms. Loretta Lynn. If you know it, sing along!” You began to strum on your guitar, finally gaining Ford’s attention.

He looked up from scarfing down his food to see a vision. You wore bell-bottoms and a flowing blouse and had the voice of an angel. While the rest of the diner seemed to not be paying attention, Ford couldn’t help but be enchanted. He always struggled with just looking women in the eyes, but he couldn’t take his off you. The way you swayed back and forth, the way your hands moved along the strings of the guitar, and the way he could tell you were smiling while you sang without even having to look at you had him beyond smitten. He sat his elbow up on the bar and used his hand to prop his head up. He knew he had the goofiest smile on his face looking at you and hearing your melodic singing.

Your eyes were raking the room hoping to see at least one person who was interested in your singing. You locked eyes with a gentleman in a sweater vest and button-up. He looked out of place among the other patrons of the diner. He looked scholarly; he definitely wasn’t from around here. He had fluffy, brown hair and glasses, and the way he was gazing at you made you have butterflies. You continued singing but sent a wink his way. The man’s head perked up from his hand and rubbed behind his neck.

You made Ford Pines, certified genius, flustered; you just didn’t know it yet. Ford knew he had to talk to you, but he was so intimidated. You were confident, which was something he wasn’t. Eventually, time had passed, several more songs had been sung, and it was closing time for Greasy’s. The last person that was there besides you and Ford had walked out the door. It was now just you and him.

“Have a goodnight, sir!” you called after the man. You had started putting your guitar back in your case. Ford knew that if he didn’t make a move now, he might never have another chance. He got up and began to approach you. Your back was to him, and you were humming a country song he couldn’t remember the name of.

Ford cleared his throat to get your attention. Your body tensed as you let out a yelp. When you turned to face him with your hand on your chest, you chuckled. “Bout gave me a heart attack!” you exclaimed.

His face was red as he stammered out an apology. “I-I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to do that.” He had a nice deep voice and kind eyes. You reached out and squeezed his arm to reassure him. He looked down at your hand as if he couldn’t believe you had touched him. You let your hand drop to your side so as not to make him uncomfortable. Little did you know, he was thinking about your hands all over him.

“No worries,” you replied with a grin. “So, what can I help you with, stranger?”

“Ah, well…” Ford trailed off. He didn’t think he would get this far. “I just really enjoyed your singing, and I wanted to let you know.”

You gave him a wide smile. “That’s so sweet! That means a lot to me. I’ve been doing this on the side every Friday to make some extra money. I’ve never seen you before, though. Are you new to town?”

Ford wasn’t necessarily new to town, but he also didn’t want to tell you that he was holed up in his house with his studies all the time. He never went out in public unless he absolutely had to. “Yes, I am. I, uh, am here studying…wildlife.”

“That’s so neat! I love nature. What kind of wildlife are you studying?” You were genuinely interested in what he had to say about Gravity Falls. He wasn’t used to people wanting to hear what he had to say.

“It’s a little hard to explain. Do you know what anomalies are?” Ford was trying to contain how excited he was by fiddling with the loose thread at the end of his sleeve.

“I do, but I wouldn’t mind hearing you explain it to me,” you answered, picking up your guitar case. “Let’s get out of here before we get beaten with the broom, though. My truck is out front. We can sit on my tailgate if you’d like,” you suggested.

Ford was grinning like an idiot. “Sure. I would love that.”

“Great. Also, I really like your hair. I noticed it earlier; it looks good on you!” you complimented him. You meant every word of it, too. You tried not to let your nerves show, but you thought he was the cutest thing you had ever seen.

Ford’s face had turned crimson. “Oh gosh, well thank you. You’re too kind.” He felt like he was floating. First a girl wanted to see his research, and NOW she likes his hair. This felt unreal. As you two walked towards the exit, Ford opened the door for you.

“Why thank you, kind sir,” you said in a fake posh accent. “What a gentleman.”

Ford laughed. “Of course, madam.” He followed you out to your truck. It was a hunk of junk, but it got you to and from, and that’s all that mattered to you. You pulled the lever on your tailgate door and pulled it down. You climbed onto the truck and placed your guitar on the flatbed. You found a seat on the cool metal of the tailgate and let your legs dangle. You patted beside you beckoning for Ford to sit down.  

He hopped onto the tailgate and pulled a small notebook out of his pocket. “So, this isn’t my official research because I don’t have my journal with me, but this is a little sketchbook I have.” He opened it up to reveal detailed illustrations of creatures you had never seen before.

You gasped in amazement. “Did you draw these?” you asked wondrously.

“I did. Do you, uh, like them?” You were the first person he had shown his drawings to.

“Like them? I love them! You found these in Gravity Falls?” Ford’s eyes lit up and he pushed his glasses up onto his nose. He began to tell of his adventures and all he had learned since he had been here. You were entranced by his stories and his passion for oddities, and you believed every bit of it. You have seen some strange things since moving here, but not like he had. You could have listened to him till your hair turned gray. It was like he was a shaken-up soda can exploding carbonation everywhere. You continued to listen intently to him until you noticed his hands.

“Wait,” you interrupted him. “I apologize if this sounds rude, but do you have an extra finger?” Ford looked down bashfully at his hands.

“Yes, unfortunately. Been made fun of it my whole life,” he responded sadly.

“Oh, no,” you murmured. “I think it’s beautiful.” You began to trace your fingers along his hands. They were big and he had calloused fingers. It looked like his extra digit fit right in.

“T-thank you. No one has ever told me that,” he said softly.

“Well, it’s true.” You looked into his eyes, and it seemed that tears were on the brink of falling. You wanted to change the subject.

“Hey, you know how you thought that Gravity Falls was kind of a magnet for weirdness? I think you’re right. Can I show you my birthmark? It’s on my back.”

Ford’s head tilted slightly to the side. “Are you sure? You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“I want to. I promise.”

Ford nodded his head. You shifted so your back was facing him and lifted your shirt exposing the discolored lightning bolt like marks that covered your skin. They were all over your body, and it was something you had always been insecure about.

“Oh my,” he mumbled. “May I touch them?”

You blushed. “Yeah sure.” His fingertips began grazing your back gently, following each line on your body. You felt so at ease showing him. You felt no judgement at all. You heard him whisper “extraordinary” under his breath which made you smile to yourself.

“Are these lines everywhere?" he asked, scribbling in his notebook.

“They are all over my torso, chest, and parts of my arms.” What you said next, you said without thought, and you yourself couldn’t belief you had the guts to suggest this. “Would you like to draw me?”

You heard the scratching of his pencil stop, and you turned your neck to look at him. His mouth was slightly agape, and his eyes were wide.

“I uh…uh…” he stuttered.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“No- I mean, I would be honored to. I have never seen a skin condition such as yours. I just don’t want to cross any boundaries.”

You smiled. “Trust me, I don’t mind.” You pulled your shirt over your head leaving you in just your bra and blue jeans. The lightning bolt like marks spread over your body like vines. Ford exhaled sharply as he looked at you. He had never even touched a girl, let alone seen her topless. His heart rate began to pick up.

“You’re…magnificent,” Ford breathed. The way the moonlight shined on your skin and your hair flowed around your head made you look like a goddess.

Your face grew even more red. “Thank you.” There was a pause as his eyes drank you in. “Is this an okay pose?”

Ford nodded eagerly. “Yes, perfect.” He began to get to work sketching your body. He wanted to get every curve, every line, and every spot that covered you. In his head, you were the epitome of beauty. You felt utterly worshipped by this man you had just met. It was an indescribable feeling. You didn’t feel like an object; you felt like art.

“Could you turn over, please? I would like to get your back as well.”

You grinned and obliged. You rolled over and laid your head on your arms as he started his sketching again. After a couple of minutes, he was finally done. You had dozed off and he was tapping your shoulder to wake you up.

“I’m finished. Would you like to see?” he whispered. His low voice sent a shiver down your spine. You sat up, and Ford adverted his eyes to not look at your cleavage. You thought this was adorable considering you were literally shirtless, but he still wanted to remain respectful.

You looked at the drawings, and you were speechless. These drawings had made you see yourself in a way that you never had before. You looked gorgeous.

“I’m sorry if you don’t like them I-‘’ You cut him off by planting your lips on his. You don’t know what took over you, but you knew you didn’t want this to end. His lips were soft and unsure. Your hands were on either side of his face as his hands settled on the clothed part of your hips. He sighed into your mouth contently before you broke the embrace.

“Was that okay?” you asked in a ragged breath. “I’m sorry if that wasn’t okay, I don’t-“ This time he interrupted you with a kiss. He was more sure of himself now with one hand on your exposed waist and the other snaking it’s way into your hair.

“It was more than okay.”

You giggled at him. “So… I guess now is a good time to ask for your name.”

“I would say so,” he laughed his hand reaching out to you. “My name is Ford Pines.”

You shook his hand. “And I am Y/N Y/L/N. Nice to meet you.”

[chrisgotitall]

Hiii!! I love your work and just love how cute it is 🥹 could you by chance do a blurb about reader meeting mike through luca guadagnino? How imagine it is that reader is a big film fan, she loves movies and her favorite directors are luxa guadagnino, sophia coppola, and gregg araki (you don’t have to actually know them lol) and so reader gets into movie making obviously and at first luca sees her as a muse and with that they work together. reader isn’t any movies yet, because she’s a little shy, but she gets to be behind the scenes on a lot of luca’s movies. so when challengers is in the making reader just attracts mike, her gentleness and playfulness, he just loves her vibe.

Hope this satisfies your request!!

You always loved movies. More specifically what was behind every scene and dialogue in a movie. You got very specific film directors as your heroes. You looked up to them so much and you got the chance to meet one of them.

You had the extraordinary opportunity to meet Luca Guadagnino through one of the masterclasses that your college organized. Since then you got more and more inspired to work on a set someday. You got to talk to him and he was so nice to share tips with you.

Finally the day of your graduation arrived and you found out that he was open to guide you on your first experience on a real set through an internship. Of course you accepted.

You got sent a copy of the script, the movie was called “Challengers” and it got you really intrigued from the first time you read.

Your first day on set, you were extremely nervous. You soon found Luca who brought you on a little tour of the set: he let you meet the crew, he let you see all the work spaces, your trailer and he let you meet the lead actors of the movie. All three of them welcomed you and you got to spend some time with them while the crew prepared everything to film the scenes.

When you got back to Luca, he let you sit beside him.

“You know, You look really good among all those actors… have you ever thought of becoming one?” he asked you curiously.

“Oh… no, I’d rather stay behind the camera” you told him. The real reason was that you can’t stand a camera pointed at you, you’ve always been a very shy person so you’d prefer to point the camera to somebody else.

“OH ok… well it’s never too late” he said. You smiled at him.

They started shooting their scenes and you couldn’t have asked for anything better than seeing Zendaya act live in front of you. And it just got better when you got to see Josh and Mike too. There was something about Mike Faist’s acting, he was extremely charismatic. He was brilliant and mesmerizing.

“Okay, we’re gonna take a break now!” said Luca, “You can do whatever you want but first when they get back from changing clothes, give them these other scenes to prepare for today” he added before getting up from his chair.

After Zendaya and Josh got back you gave them the scenes. Mike got back a little later and he came straight to you.

“You have my scenes, right?” he said.

“Yes, here you go” you gave him his papers.

“Thank you… uhm… are you gonna be here for the rest of the shooting?” he asked.

“I think so, Luca didn't give me a limit on the internship” you said.

“Oh, great… see you around then” he said, smiling a little.

He was so intriguing, he never got a lot out of himself so that you hoped to speak to him another time. And you did, every time you spoke on set, you wanted to know him more.

After four weeks of internship and filming you two were bonding so much: you laughed together and it was mutual, he made you laugh and you made him laugh. Sometimes he would bring coffee to everyone but made sure you were the last one to get it so that he could sit with you and chat as his first thing in the morning. He would do anything to spend time with you when he wasn’t filming. You couldn’t really explain to yourself how he was so drawn by you, but somehow you were and you were enjoying his attention. It wasn’t like any other guy’s way of approaching you. He didn’t touch you or joke in the way all the other boys did. He was genuinely courting you and you liked it. Everything was a surprise, you never knew what he was gonna do the next day.

But one day he surprised you the most.

“Ehi… What are you doing tomorrow night?”

The question was obviously approaching another predictable question. You were wearing your headphones because you were watching some scenes from the movie to study the way Luca worked and how his final work looked, but you heard him anyway. You took out the headphones and moved your gaze to him, standing tall beside you.

“I guess I’m going out with you,” you said.

He smiled with his lips only but it was a wide smile anyway.

“Great, I’ll be at your place at 8” he said.

“8 is fine” you said back.

You couldn’t stop looking into each other’s eyes and you couldn’t stop smiling. Luckily or unluckily, Luca broke the bubble that was forming around you and everyone got back to work.

The next day you went out on your date. He picked you up and took you to a nice restaurant. Everything about that date reflected his personality, he was a gentleman, an old style one, so the date he organized was very traditional and you loved it.

The night you spent together was amazing but when you got in the car so that he could bring you home, something, a very specific question, was itching on your tongue.

“Why me?” you spit out.

He looked at you, very surprised, “What?”

“Why did you bring me out on a date? It’s not like I’m the only girl on set and I’m definitely not the closest crew member you work with. There are some gorgeous makeup artists on set…” you started blurring out.

“Yes, they’re gorgeous. And you are too. But what really took me out of you it’s your kindness, your joyfulness, I never saw anyone working on a filming set with your vibe and you inspired me, you got me thinking about why I’m doing this in the first place” he explained.

His answer took you out, it startled you.

“Oh…”

“Is that enough of a good reason?” he said, starting up the car and smiling.

“Yes…”

He took you home and to finish up the already traditional date night, he kissed you goodnight on your porch.

[thebreakerofchains]

Lights Down Low

A/N: So, I was listening to this song, and I was hit with the thought of Nesta and well...Less than decent thoughts. So, I mused to myself "why not?" and wrote this self indulgent one-shot. Keeping in mind that while I am a pro at reading smut, I am all but a novice writer of it, at best.

Nesta Archeron x Fem!IllyrianReader

Warnings: SPICY!! DNI if you are a minor.

Cassian had woken you up that morning frantically spewing about how he wouldn’t be able to go to training – you were barely awake let alone properly hearing what he threw at you full speed at those ungodly morning hours – all you got was that it had something to do with the Illyrian camp and Devlon and that he really would appreciate if you could cover for him seeing that leaving the females with Azriel being the only instructor was as dangerous as lighting a match near gasoline. And, if you knew something about Nesta, Gwyn and Emerie it’s that do they burn and blow easily. 

So, you decided you were in a generous mood today while you dressed up in your fighting leathers and headed towards the training area at the House of Wind. He also owes you one, naturally, and you had almost the perfect idea as to what favor you’d call in for that, you think to yourself with a wicked grin. 

“Good morning, ladies.” You say with a smile to your face at their already sweaty state, considering they have been here for forty minutes at most.  

Azriel gives you a once over from where he is standing and an inquisitive look, “I didn’t know you were joining us today.” 

“Nice to see you too, Az.” You feign an expression of hurt, “Glad to know you have missed me.” You had been on a diplomatic trip with Morrigan to Vallahan for a few weeks and had only recently got back as of two nights ago, and the only people you got the chance to see were Rhysand and Feyre for the report, and Cassian this morning as he groveled at the end of your bed for you to cover him for training. 

“I am glad you two are having a great time chatting away, definitely don’t mind us.” Nesta said from where she stood in a stretching position that looked about as painful as it probably was. “Should I ask the House to bring you some biscuits and tea so you can get properly acquainted?” 

You bite the insides of your cheeks in an attempt to control your grin from growing any wider. How you missed those snide comments. Not that Mor wasn’t stimulating company during that rather boring trip, but no one could entertain you so effortlessly like Nesta Archeron. 

Rhysand says you are a different brand of masochist for enjoying the blue-gray-eyed woman as much as you do. Well, you and Cassian, who also never shied from a mostly healthy banter with her – without dramatic repercussions, at least. 

“If you gave the same attention that you do us to your stretching you would see more effective results, Archeron.” I wink at her and she eyes me with a look I do not know how to describe other than ‘I will make you eat those words’; I shiver inwardly. 

I am distracted, or rather saved, by Emerie to my side as she groans out, “This is insanity.” She moves out of position with a deep intake of breath, and I see my opening. 

“Here, let me help.” I move to her sitting on the ground, silently asking for permission as I move my hands to her arms. She nods slowly in recognition and I start adjusting her sitting stance spreading her limbs wider apart and then holding her upper members up from behind her. My chest is pressed on her back, and I move my head to the side of her ear before asking, “How does it feel?” 

“Fine.” She breathes out low and quick. 

I hum, slightly puzzled with her reaction wondering if I am somehow making her uncomfortable. I look above her shoulder and see Gwyneth’s teal eyes gazing at us, cheeks red adorning a mischievous smirk. I clear my throat and get up from my position behind Emerie, “Now, you only have to keep it up exactly like that, and you will see that as nagging as it is, it won’t be quite an unbearable pain as before.” 

I circle around the field correcting the priestesses here and there, mostly giving them verbal instructions on how to improve their stances and the whole time I could feel a much familiar fire burning on my back. I was being watched. 

The training ended on a positive note, and much to Azriel’s dismay, the priestesses all left with a thankful and hopeful murmur that I should lead the sessions more often to which I just smile shyly at. As soon as they left, I start tiding up until I hear the swish of a small blade, looking back to see who my companion is, I meet the face of Nesta and her intense eyes as she plays with a dagger. 

“Can I help you with something?” I ask, mentally cursing myself from being that affected at the sight of her in training leathers. 

“So, this is how I find out you are back home?” She runs the blade on the wooden table where the other weapons laid, slowly approaching me, closing me in a lot like a predator hunting its prey. 

“I didn’t-” I start and she pauses me raising the blade to my lips, the sharp end meeting my skin with a blazing cold touch much like Nesta’s own. 

“I don’t care.” She eyes me in a silent dare to try and explain myself again. 

I for one, get so completely lost in her eyes and the smell of her that all I do is take one of my hands up to her face where a strand of her golden-brown hair slipped from her updo and remove it from where it laid on her sweaty forehead. Nesta sharply intakes air and I lose mine altogether, as if she sucked in my very breath to her lungs, her full breasts touching my own, her nose brushing on mine. 

“Did you miss me?” She husks. 

I nod gradually. 

“Hm.” She hums out, “Is that why you were feeling up Emerie at practice earlier?” 

My eyes widen at the implication, “I would never!” 

She merely grins wickedly to me, her leg moving between my own and I feel her leather covered core press down on my thigh. I let out a gasp, and she strokes my hair gently, “I wonder if you didn’t look for me because you were too busy with Morrigan. You did spend two full months with her at Vallahan – so eager to help, volunteering yourself like that – and we both know you don’t last long being on your own, don’t we, baby?” 

She blows soft air to my face, as if it would help me cool down. “That is absurd, Nes. Morrigan doesn’t see me that way, or any other female, that we know of.” I muse out. “Well, maybe Emerie if we are being honest, but I know better than to raise the question to her.” 

She presses herself further into me in a way I didn’t even know that was possible, I see stars and my hands find her hips in a possessive grip, “Nesta...” I mean to sound warning but it comes out a tad too desperate to be anything else other than pleading.  

“Yes?” She drawls out sensually, hips moving away and right before I answer she pulls them back down deliciously deliberate and steady. A growl leaves my lips and I switch our positions, her back now touching the stone-cold rock walls. “I thought you could help me out with my stretching exercises, unless that special attention is reserved for Illyrian females only.” She draws out and I swear I hear a hint of jealousy to her tone. 

“I can always make an exception for you.” I decide to tease her back, “If I am not too busy. You high fae do bend different.” 

“Oh?” She lifts one of her perfect eyebrows at me. “Care to elaborate, professor?” 

“For example, you are much more sensitive here,” I say as I slid a hand down her ass touching her inner thigh from the back, “than most Illyrian females I taught before.” I drag my hands upwards again, purposefully grabbing her ass and she lets out a small squeal. “Or maybe, that is just you.” 

She moans out, “You are right, just me.” Enunciating the last two words roughly with intent as she pulls me for a mind-numbing kiss. My grip to her back tightens and my other hand finds its way to the mess of tangled hair that was once her braid, deepening the kiss, she gasps in surprise and I take my opportunity to slowly enter my tongue in her mouth giving her lower lip a teasing lick before sucking on her own. At this point, we are both frantically panting, all I can see, sense and smell is Nesta as her nails scratch my back until I can feel blood coming out. I draw back from the kiss and she glares at me in her dizzy state, I give her a mirthful look and she seems to understand exactly where my thoughts went to just as I rip her top apart and am met with her creamy perky breasts waiting to receive my undivided attention. 

Wasting no time, I take my mouth to her left breast as my hand that was in her head seconds ago playfully twists and teases the other one, her hips still moving, relentlessly searching for any kind of relief and contact they can find. 

“I reckon you missed me as well, Nes.” I breathe out between my ministrations as I move to the right side and suck hard on her hardened nipple. She moans out my name, “Ah, Y/N!” 

“I want to hear you say it, Nes.” 

She looks down to me, and it’s like something snaps between us. I have fucked Nesta thoroughly and often for a while now, in many occasions – and positions – but never have I felt such a feeling like the one engulfing me right now. It’s like the time we spent apart left the thing desperate, as desperate as I was when I thought of her, especially in the night when my hands drifted between my legs and I would come time and time again at the memory of her. 

I move my head to her neck and with a bite I order, “Say. It!” 

She screams in pleasure and I pull back to look at her dazed eyes while she says, “I missed you.”  

I waste no time as I take her into my arms, and fly to my room, the House apparently ever attuned to Nesta had the whole ambient ready for us. From the corner of my eyes, I could see red candles were lit all over the place. The curtains were now closed and there was a dizzying smell, but that was no one else’s credit but Nesta’s as her deep arousal hit my nostrils. 

Her hands that laid with a tight grip on my back move up to plant a feather-like touch to my wings and I shiver out a moan, “Illyrians and their wings.” She breathes out teasingly. 

With a snarl I rip her leather pants off her finding her glistening exposed sex so fucking ready for me. I ghost touch it and she arches her back trying to draw my hand closer to her center, “How long do you plan on making me wait?” She lets out petulantly. “Weren’t two months of touching myself at the thought of you enough punishment?” 

I raise my eyebrows at her, smiling wolfishly like a starved madwoman, which I am sure is the exact definition of what I am right now. I lower myself, kissing her inner thigh leisurely, and she grips my head her nails scratching on my scalp. “Y/N, please, I need you.” 

“That was fast, maybe I should go away more often, it seems you finally gained some manners while I was gone.” I say before planting a teasing kiss to her clit. 

“Baby!” She screams. 

I decide to put both of us out of our misery and draw my tongue from bottom to top before closing in my mouth on the bundle of sensitive nerves, I hungrily move up and down, circling and sucking in different points and directions before moving one finger close to her entrance. 

I look up to what is one of my favorite sights in the world, her golden-brown locks sprawled on my pillow, body glistening with sweat, her forehead creased in pleasure as she bites on her lower lip punishing the plump part before locking her gaze with mine and saying, “I need to feel you inside of me, love.” 

I suck at her clit before speaking, “Only ever me?” 

“Yes, yes, only ever you. I don’t want anybody else. Just you!” 

I groan on her pussy, a low guttural sound that has never come out of me before as I insert one finger inside her soaking wet pussy. “You are mine, Nesta Archeron.” 

“Yes, I am yours, all yours.” 

I put another finger inside her, mouth working mercilessly on her sensitive bundles as she screams chants of pleasure, and I can feel she is getting close and I am not far myself, she takes one of her hands to my wings and strokes a particularly soft spot and I moan loudly on her pussy. 

“Cum with me, baby.” She lets out breathy, mind close to succumbing. I move my fingers faster, harder and she continues stroking the spot on my wings, my climax borderline here until I feel the knot on my lower belly tighten impossibly and in a blinding flash of life I come just as her juices flow out of her and I divert my mouth lapping as much of it as I can. Licking her clean, fingers now moving slower and softer to help her ride out her high. 

I let go of her, a string of saliva between me and her intimate area, she pushes my head upwards and I meet her with a searing kiss. Her legs engulf my torso pushing me closer before she bites down on my lips strong enough to draw blood, and as the metallic tinge of it fills my tastebuds Nesta says lowly: 

“If you ever leave me for that long again, I will hunt you down, and I will kill you with my bare hands.” Her blue-gray eyes locked on mine, daring me to protest in any way. 

“I wouldn’t dream of it.” I give her a slow kiss. 

She gives me a smile that bore nothing good, and I knew I would be in for one long, long night. 

[cupidsyndrome]

ᖭི༏ᖫྀ ME AND MR WOLF.

🏹 MURDER, FALSE ROMANCE. 985 WORDS. 💌 nothing worse than a wolf in disguise. careful not to be fooled. 🩷 cw. human!alastor. suggestive. straight up murder. alastor needs his own warning.

freshly moved from the countryside, it’s easy to feel oh-so out of place here– amidst the dimly lit speakeasy that your friend has been urging you to go to. you vaguely remember hearing the song it’s a sin to tell a lie some time ago over the radio: this time, it’s live. you can feel each chord reverberating in your very own body, heart playing along the beat. humming along to it as your eyes desperately search for your friend that seemed to have disappeared– the smoke lingering in the air makes it hard to see, to even breathe.

a couple making their way out bump into you, sending you stumbling towards someone. to keep your balance, your hands instinctively find their way to the stranger’s chest– it’s an awkward situation, to say the least, and the way his gaze drops to your hands with annoyance makes you want to bury yourself 6 feet under. 

“my apologies,” you try, stammering.

the stranger seemed more relaxed at that, eyeing you up and down without a care in the world.

“no need, sugar.”

you frown at that– something about his voice felt familiar, “i think i know you.”

his face falls at that. uncertainty tainting his face as one his eyes twitches. have you done something wrong ? the atmosphere feels suffocating as you struggle to find the words to explain yourself– he doesn’t bother helping either, hard gaze stuck on you.

“i.. i must apologise again, sir. knowing would’ve been the wrong word. i’m a listener of your shows.”

a scoff.

then, a full-on laugh.

as the sound of his laughter fills the air, mingling with the lingering notes of the jazz band– your stomach churns, something akin to feeling butterflies. it's a warm, rich sound that washes over you, momentarily easing the tension that hangs between the two of you. his laugh attracts the dirty looks of a few other customers– he doesn’t mind it.

“well, darlin’,” he muses, a playful twinkle in his eyes, “if you’re a fan, then i reckon we’re practically ol’ pals !”

the night went on, with the stranger– alastor, you’ve learned– never leaving your side. the hours slipping away in a haze of laughter and shared drinks. the once-crowded room now dwindled as patrons found themselves wandering into the moonlit streets. with the fading strains of down hearted blues, an uneasy feeling settles in the pit of your stomach. would you ever have the chance to meet him again after tonight ? would he even wish to ? 

but alastor seems to be more understanding of your silent dilemma than what you would’ve thought. he leans close, lips brushing against your cheek– velvety voice making you an offer. and so, you push your doubts to the side, eagerly nodding to accept. 

on the walk to your house, his hand finds your waist, keeping you close to him. it’s comforting, and you start to think that you could get used to this, someday.

[...]

you tell him to make himself home and he does, oh-so effortlessly. as his coat gets tossed somewhere on your couch– he rolls off his sleeves, forearms adorned with lengthy scars that makes your face twist in worry for him.

“goodness, alastor! those must’ve hurt.”

he offers you a smile, gloved hand twirling a strand of your hair. 

“you should be worryin’ for yourself, cher.”

the term catches you off guard, and a blush blooms across your cheeks, the warmth spreading like wildfire. it catches you so off guard that your mind won’t even try to comprehend his words. there’s red signs flashing through your mind but you don’t pay attention to any of them as you find yourself succumbing to the intoxicating allure of the man standing before you. he’s too charming for his own good, you think– even worse so for yours.

“what’re you thinkin’ about ? focus on me.”

as your back hits the wall, you stumble over your words. he’s close– too close for this to be considered respectable between two strangers. his left hand is on the wall, a few inches from your head, as his right hand grabs the point of your chin: keeping you in place, right where he wants you to stay. you find it difficult to breathe– imagination running wild, conjuring up scenarios that leave your mind dizzy with need.

his lips finds yours in a heated kiss, a collusion full of passion that threatens to consume you whole. each movement fuels a primal need– and you can’t help but moan at the feeling, the heat of his body radiating against yours in waves.

the hand that once grabbed your chin now tightens around your throat, cutting your airways in a grip that feels foreign– yet pleasurable for the most part. still, it makes you uncomfortable and you whimper: wishing to let him know, thinking that maybe, just maybe, he doesn’t know just how strong he was. alastor breaks off the kiss and relief floods through you for a moment. 

your eyes flutter open.

the illusion breaks.

the man standing before you looks like alastor, but doesn’t feel like the man you’ve met earlier. his facade crumbles off in an instant– a chilling bored gaze never leaving yours. the sudden panic filling up your eyes doesn’t faze him, as he continues to strangle you with a vice-like grip. 

lungs burning, you try to gasp for air as his left hand joins the deadly embrace. when you realise that the monster wouldn’t take mercy on you, your fingers start tightening around his forearms the best you could– nails digging into the very same scars you’ve pitied him for.

the realisation puts tears into your eyes– what a fool you’ve been.

and as the world begins to blur, mind falling in and out of consciousness, you’re met with the mocking smile of the very same stranger you’ve brought home.

“have a good sleep, sugar.”

© CUPIDSYNDROME, all rights reserved.

[yourmomwhitediamond]

It is a prompt you desire?

Then a prompt you shall receive!

How about Rosie with a fem!S/O that's a talented (maybe was very popular when she was alive) pianist? Perhaps they knew each other when they were alive, and actually felt very strongly for one another, but due to the standards of the time they couldn't be together. But now that they're in hell, they don't need to worry about that anymore! Maybe the reader is a cannibal like Rosie as well, but that's for you to decide!

Anyhow, hope you like the prompt, and whatever one you end up going with from your ask box I hope you have fun writing for the best girl!

Thank you for this request. I did struggle a little with this one, so it might not be to your liking. I hope you enjoy it nevertheless!!

Warnings: cannibalism, fluff, and a hint of implied homophobia?

"Do you need a break?" You questioned, looking over your canvas to Rosie. You had noticed her small movements every time you peeked over to get a good look at her as you painted. It was obvious she was becoming uncomfortable, seated in the same position for just over an hour. And you wouldn't take no for an answer.

"No, I can last a while longer"

You sighed heavily and set your utensils down, "Rosie," You said in a knowing tone.

She too sighed and let herself relax. Her shoulders fell from their tensed state and her back slumped in defeat, "Okay"

A satisfied smile grew on your face as you stood and stepped over to Rosie. You offered a hand down to her and she took it gratefully, a delighted groan coming from her as she stretched her legs and back. With your hand still in hers you led her to the small round table where you had taken previous recesses. You patted the back of her hand before releasing it to go and get her some well-deserved pinky fingers and a hot beverage. As you prepared everything you could feel her eyes on you the entire time. You dared to take a look over your shoulder to make sure you weren't being paranoid. Turned out that your suspicions were correct. Her head snapped away, focusing her attention elsewhere. You chuckled and shook your head in amusement. The moment your back was facing her again, her gaze returned to you, watching your every move. You knew the layout of her kitchen like the back of your hand, which is strange considering you didn't even reside there. In all honesty, you spent most of your life in Rosie’s emporium/house than your own home.

It was touching to see how much you cared for her. You'd known her long enough to spot any signs of discomfort, stress and other things alike. She loved you for it. She loved you for many things. And it was only recently that she had discovered this love she felt for you wasn't platonic.

You swivelled back around with Rosie's drink and snacks, placing them in front of her. You took your place in the seat opposite her with a smile plastered on your face after Rosie thanked you.

"Thank you, darling," She reached her free hand out, palm facing up, gesturing for you to take it into yours. You happily obliged,"You're far too kind to me"

"Nonsense, you deserve the best" As she brought the drink up to her lips you kissed the back of her hand.

If your time in the living world was different, so would your relationship. Society frowned upon same-sex partners, so you both never had the chance to fully explore your feelings for each other. You were stuck in that time, mindset-wise, but if you weren't then there'd be none of this beating around the bush.

"Flatterer" Rosie spoke into her cup, hiding her smile and blush behind it.

Your smile turned into a smirk from her reaction so you carried on. You turned her hand and pressed your lips against her palm with your eyes trained on hers, "You're practically perfect in every way. But you already know that, don't you? Such an ethereal muse"

Rosie scoffed and lowered her cup, "You've only told me a thousand times before"

"And I plan to tell you a thousand times more, my dear" You were giving yourself mixed singles at this point, unable to understand why you were giving her these romantic gestures and flirtatious comments like every other day, but there was something else. You sensed something was off.

Rosie had slipped her hands away momentarily before scooting further forward and bringing them up to your face.

She seemed to think things over, trying to find the right words,"You know we're close friends"

Well that wasn't a clever way to start. It made you furrow your brows in confusion, but you answered nevertheless, "Yes"

Then your face filled with dread as you jumped to conclusions. The first scenario to pop into your head was her ending your friendship. That was happening, but it was going to be replaced with something far more than what you could've imagined. You didn't know that though, so you couldn't help but let your mind run wild with every single possibility anyone could imagine.

Rosie noticed your worry and gingerly caressed your face with her thumbs, rubbing small circles on your cheeks, "Don't look so worried, this is nothing bad"

"You're making it sound as if it's something negative" You argued in a whisper, your eyes drifting away from Rosie's.

"Darling," She sighed heavily, lifting your head to look her in the eye,"I'll get straight to the point. I love you"

There was a beat.

"But we aren't..." You trailed off, the realisation of her confession taking its time to sink in. Rosie felt, and saw, your cheeks heat up. There was no doubt in your mind that she could hear your heart thumping at an unimaginable speed as well. You searched her eyes, having doubts about whether she was being truthful or not. “We aren't allowed to love each other," You finished,"We were told it was a sin and-"

"We're in Hell, sweetie. There's no more being told who we can and can't love. It's not a sin. It's not why we ended up here," She cooed, bringing your face closer,"No more rules"

You took in a sharp breath and raised your hands to where Rosie’s rested. Never in your past and present life did you think you'd get a confession from her. But she was correct, there was no right or wrong in Hell and everything made sense now. You were no longer confused with your actions, thoughts and feelings.

You didn't think twice to close the gap and capture Rosie's lips, and she didn't hesitate to return the kiss. She felt you melt into putty. You leaned over the table to get more of her and hummed happily. It was at that moment you realised just how much you had been missing out on. Her lips felt like heaven against yours, they were so soft and plush. It was easily your new favourite thing.

However, it short-lived. Rosie started to pull back, but you were determined to keep it going, leaning further and further over the table to the point where you almost knocked the drink and snacks onto the floor.

Rosie laughed at your neediness and pecked your cheek when you eventually parted. Your face flushed and you sat back down, searching for the right words before admitting:

"I love you too"

It's late at night. I don't know if there are any mistakes. I'm going to sleep now. Night night my lovelies x

[pretty-toru]

Can you talk about a situation where gojo and y/n are best friends since childhood and they start to develop something but it’s still not clear so they’re kinda in between that

i just had to include pining!gojo so i hope that's alright with you!! 🤍

Satoru knew he liked you first, the type to say "It's always been you" when it comes down to it. You were beautiful to him since the first encounter and he treasures the friendship he built with you over the years. So when you began to see him more than just an annoying kid who turned into a handsome young man, you were unsure how to feel about this because you don't know how it'll affect the dynamics.

You and Satoru spent late nights together before but for some reason it feels different this time around. He's always looked at you the same but you're now only noticing how you can get so lost in his eyes. You both held hands running away from the servants as troublemaking kids, but it feels intimate when your fingers accidentally touch his and neither of you move for a moment. It's a small thing to get worked up over so you don't dwell on it.

The next day feels mostly normal but when Satoru walks into the classroom you suddenly have weird thoughts like did he always look that attractive? He notices your gaze on him and he simpers, "Stare any harder and I'll think you've fallen for me~" He's being full of himself again so you say something smart, but you never entirely rejected the statement. Shoko and Geto share a telepathic signal regarding their bets on you two.

When you're helping a cute grandma with her groceries and Satoru tags along because he follows you everywhere. She thanks you both for your utmost kindness, and before she lets you go about your afternoon she asks, "By the way, are you seeing anyone? I have a fine grandson-" Satoru chimes in hugging you tightly and explaining to the sweet old lady that you're with him so sadly you're off the market. You’re already used to him pretending for the couples promotion so you leave it at that.

You have wondered why Satoru hasn't been dating anyone when he attracts the attention of many girls, coming up to him and leaving their numbers with him but they could be meeting in secret. When it's his day off or the weekend, you're always included in his plans along with Geto, Shoko, and the other students. You'd stay peeled for any special girl that Satoru wants to introduce to his close friends yet she never appeared.

This goes on for several months before you come to terms that you DO have romantic feelings for Satoru, and as you muse over everything he has done you think maybe he does too. But with these things it's always a 50/50 chance. You either start dating and have a great relationship, or the friendship withers and you stop being best friends and that scared you. So you confide in Shoko and much to your surprise, you are the last person to know that he has liked you since the beginning.

― a little bonus:

You find Satoru later that night, bringing up how you two promised to stay best friends forever no matter what when you were kids. He pulls himself upright from his bed after sensing the hint of seriousness in your voice and goes, "Yeah?" His heart nearly stops when you're silent for a moment from gathering your courage, and he most definitely wasn't prepared for the heartfelt confession that follows after.

Satoru's grinning like a complete idiot before trapping you in his arms for a tight embrace, "You had me worried there for a second, you know that? And here I thought you were never going to like me back!" When he retracts back slightly, his hands holding you firmly by the shoulders and azure eyes sparkling like sunlight over ocean waves. "Hey, can you say it again for me?"

Your cheeks flush slightly and you glance away from him. "I already told you I was going to say it only once. You should've listened the first time." He moves into your line of sight with puppy eyes, and you swear you weren't going to cave but Satoru's just too cute when he says please. After you tell him that you like him over and over again, he reciprocates tenfold before leaning down to kiss you softly on the lips 一 the most innocent kiss that made your mind go blank and feeling a little giddy and a lot of happiness.

He gently rests his forehead against yours and his hand moves to settle on your waist, the other taking your much smaller hand in his and rubbing small circles over your palm to keep him grounded. "You realize that if we start going out, it'd probably end with us getting married, right?"

"Yeah." Your smile widens, you knew Satoru was always part of your future but it's sweeter knowing that he'll be your companion for life if everything works out between you two like you hoped. You also knew your feelings didn't develop overnight and it was there all along but realizing and accepting them was startling.

"Is that okay with you?"

You nod slowly. "Yeah. And you?"

Satoru squeezes your hand and presses a kiss to your forehead, your nose, the corners of your mouth, then your pretty lips as you hold back your giggles. "You wanna know something? I can't think of anyone more perfect to spend the rest of my life with than you."