#could you imagine if he was actually able to get it all set up for them to watch the rocket launch and everyone saw it explode lol

[freakied]

if you asked me what i want most in life i would say world peace, and then if you asked me what i really want most in life i would say fiancé!satoru being so obsessed with your engagement ring that he only wants handjobs for a week!!!!

its the pretty jewels moving up and down on his cock with your hand, of course, its mesmerizing! he's always thought your hands were so pretty, but now that your left one is decorated with a (ridiculously expensive) ring that he had brought, just the sight alone makes his dick jump...

so, once you get home from a late night out together one night, you had put satoru to sleep one time with a handjob. and as he was laying back and watching through his pretty lashes as your ring moved up and down with his building pleasure, he got a taste for your touch in a way he hasn't known before.

he was so obsessed with your ringed fingers wrapped around his cock that he wasn't even embarrassed when he came within minutes.if nothing else, the sight of his sticky cum dripping down over your ring was enough to turn this into a thing.

you don't know whether to be offended or not when the next night, you're kneeling down between his spread legs and itching for a taste of him, when he asks very sweetly if you could use your hand instead.

but you oblige, because he whines even louder now when you're stroking his thick, veiny length. he moans like he's in heat, because it's not only the sight of your ring that gets him going, it's what it represents. that he has access to you like this, to the intimate sides of you that no one else will ever see, for the rest of his life!

he's also the type of man to buy himself a matching engagement ring, so he has his own little decoration to symbolise his commitment to you. and once he learns that he can enjoy your engagement bands in other ways, sex progresses from handjobs to a whole new horizon of pleasure that didn't exist before you got engaged.

like when he has you on your back, legs locked around his waist to prevent him from going anywhere as he pistons into you, he's able to watch his ringed finger wrap around your neck and press down ever so gently. the glint of light that his ring catches when he's playing with your breath makes him twitch inside of you: and the look on your face tells him that you enjoy it just as much as him.

or when you're riding him, setting the pace as his fingers dig into your waist to ground himself. you reach up and troke the side of his face with your left hand, just to push your ring and middle finger into his mouth and press down on his tongue. his lips wrap around the ring on your finger and your poor fiancé can't help but reach orgasm there and then!

even when you're not having sex, it stays a thing. like when he's busy and missing you while he's away for work. and you send him a video that he opens in private to be met with the sight of your ringed-finger pushing deep into your cunt in a desperate attempt to emulate what he feels like inside of you. of course he ends up stroking himself in the nearest toilet or locked room, recording his own ring literally blurring from how fast he's jerking his cock to the thought of you needy and missing your fiancé at home.

everything sexual has to involve your rings, one way or another. he's taking nudes with his hand holding your tits together to show off his ring. he's holding onto your thighs so tight when tasting you that you're left with an indentation of his ring in your skin when he's done.

imagine how bad it gets when you actually get married.

thank u for all the love and welcoming me to tumblr i luv it here awww hopefully this was okay !! if ur reading this you're officially a resident of avivanation and its MY turn to welcome YOU! so welcome ^.^

[fairestwriting]

Could I rq Riddle, Azul, and Ace seeing reader’s friend from RSA half-jokingly,half-seriously asking them to transfer to their school? They can even bring Grim with them.

I really like you’re writing btw <3

𐙚 Riddle Rosehearts

“The paperwork for that would be very complicated.” He interrupts their train of thought so quickly, but it’s just because he’s definitely heard that same joke himself before. “Believe me, I know someone who goes there too. It’d be especially difficult for them to allow in a familiar, I hear.”

He doesn’t really get the joke part. Just like he doesn’t get it when Che’nya jokes about transferring to NRC, or making him transfer to RSA. They’re both great, prestigious magic schools, and the transfer process is downright grueling, if there’s no specific reason for it, transferring would be a stupid idea— That’s what’s going through his mind right now.

“Besides, it’s not like going to different schools stops you from talking to each other. You’re doing it right now, aren’t you?” He comments, setting down his tea cup. Whatever your friend’s true intentions were with that comment, he shuts them down pretty efficiently, even if it wasn’t his intention at all. One might even wonder if the idea makes Riddle jealous…

…And it does, just a little bit, but that’s not the main point here. Really. Even if you ask him, he’ll just kind of pout about it and tell you that if you do want to transfer, at least make sure you do it properly. Gets embarrassed at how much he dislikes the idea, but he’s not a good enough liar to hide it.

𐙚 Ace Trappola

“Whaaat, you can’t do that! There’s no way a fancy school like that would let that weasel in.” His response starts off all dramatic and whiny sounding, but he quickly breaks into a smirk. He’s like the opposite of Riddle, instead of not catching onto the joking part, it’s the seriousness that flies right over his head.

He can tell your RSA friend is attached to you, sure, he’s observant enough to see that. But that would be a pretty crazy idea, wouldn’t it? If even transferring dorms within the same school is a huge pain, he can’t even begin to imagine how much work it’d be to transfer schools.

When you all go your separate ways, he comments about your RSA friend being a “funny” guy. It does really sound like the sort of thing a stereotypical RSA student would say, to him. It has a sort of overly charitable, “thinks the world is sunshine and rainbows” feel, he explains. Maybe it makes sense to you, maybe it doesn’t. Either way, Ace can’t possibly take it seriously. If you ever tell him you’re actually thinking about transferring, it’ll be a surprise to him.

Honestly, he likely won’t even associate your idea with your friend’s comment, unless you specifically mention that. Then it’s more like “Really? You’re willing to do all that just to get closer to some goody two-shoes? Wow, someone has a crush.”, laughing as he teases you, hardly believing the whole thing at all.

𐙚 Azul Ashengrotto

“Oh, it’s very kind of you to offer to help with the process like that. It would take a lot of work, if they do decide to do this.”Azul responds pleasantly, but the polite smile on his face doesn’t quite reach his eyes as they fixate on that friend of yours. It might’ve truly been intended to come off as just a silly, affectionate joke, but he doesn’t like it.

Depending on how observant you are, you might be able to feel the instant change of atmosphere surrounding the three of you. Obviously, Azul isn’t going to actually argue against the guy, who do you take him for— But there’s not a single overtly positive reply coming out of his mouth either. Anytime the idea of you transferring is brought up, he’ll sneak in a reminder of how difficult the process is, all while keeping that smile on his face.

As your RSA friend says goodbye to you both, you’re left with a bit of a strange feeling. And Azul will talk about how it was such a pleasure to be introduced to your friend, he’s looking forward to speaking to them again, the Lounge’s doors are always open to them if you want to hang out, etc. And he’ll pretend he has no clue what you’re talking about if you point out he’s behaving weirdly.

Of course he doesn’t want to admit it’s jealousy, that would be just childish— The truth is pretty clear if you know him well enough, however. He doesn’t actually think they could convince you to put yourself through all that… but it surely it wouldn’t hurt to remind you it’s easier to stay, right?

if you like my work you can support me by commissioning me or tipping me on ko-fi ── ᵎᵎ ✦

[crowborn666-writes]

malleus/leona/azul with a fem student who has adhd and autism. yet crowley does nothing about it despite being explained over again saying 'you're just not trying hard enough, etc"

(Oh hey, it’s my two biggest brain problems lmao. As hot as I find Crowley (yes he’s a hear me out), just once, I would love to hit him over the head with every broken object in Ramshackle. Just whack him WWE style. I’d probably convince Grim, Ace and Deuce to join in. ANYWAYS—)

(this was actually a bit hard for my AuADHD, explaining ADHD and Autism itself is quite difficult for me without references lol that and I'm horrible with finding the right words)

That’s Not How That Works

Characters: Malleus, Leona, and Azul

Genre: Fluff, Comfort, Platonic/Romantic

Summary: No, Crowley, you cannot “just get over it”. Yes, you are trying your hardest. Oh, and your friend wants to “have a word” with you in your office.

(Malleus covers both p equally, while Leona leans more to ADHD, and Azul more to Autism!)

~~~~~~

Malleus

He didn’t get it at first. I doubt ANY of the cast would know what the proper terms for your mental conditions meant. But once you sit down with him, trying to find the right words to explain in a way he would understand, he catches on quickly.

For the ADHD side, once you explain what dopamine is, and how your brain doesn't register or create enough of it, he understands why you find difficulty in completing long term tasks, and why you wait until the last minute.

He catches on quite quicker when you explain Autism. While obviously its more than just a hyperfixation, but all you really have to start with is "kinda like how you obsess over gargoyles" for his eyes to widen in mutual understanding.

You hear a storm rolling in the distance when you go on to explain how Crowley wouldn't listen, and kept pushing you to do things that would surely lead to a massive burnout.

"I'll take care of it." He speaks those words so calmly, you almost fear for Crowley's life. But when Malleus speaks again, his tone now matches the bright smile on his face. "You said autistic people bond through... what was that term again? Infodumping??? Right, why don't you share your most recent interests with me, I can carve a new gargoyle in the while I listen."

Leona

Was already pissed off with Crowley's general treatment towards you. Suddenly has the urge to de-feather a bird when you get into the topic.

It comes up when he stops by to visit, watching you try to clean up around your dusty dorm. You had suddenly stopped in the middle of what you were doing, looking between the cups on the table, to the dishes in the sink, and then the mess on the counters and-

He asks you what was up, and without thinking you explain.

"Well, I want to clean the cups off the table, but the sink is full. I can't clean the sink out because the counter's messy and the dishwasher doesn't work, but I can't clean the counter cause the trash needs taken out and we're low on trash bags and-"

He stops you before your tongue flies out of you mouth, gently soothing you before you could work yourself frantic.

So, while he's helping find a solution to the seemingly endless cycle of tasks, you explain the difficulties you have with your ADHD and Autism in this world. You explain all the little tricks you had set up at home, how each one helped a task become more manageable, and how hard it was to get them set up and built into your routine.

While he doesn't personally experience your struggle, he can only imagine how hard you're having it. He looks out for your signs of stress now, stepping in to help fix or assist with things, maybe even wordlessly pass you a bracelet of his to fidget with.

Azul

Honestly, I would NOT be surprised if he has had his fair share of experience with ADHD and Autism. Not personally, but through the twins.

Floyd is, well, a walking bomb ready to explode. That eel can almost never sit still, seemingly unaware of personal boundaries and able to switch moods at the drop of a hat.

Jade is more subtle, oftentimes so quiet most don't realize he's there until he speaks. But if he's in a mood or someone asks about mushrooms, it's nearly impossible getting him to shut up.

So, it's safe to say Azul recognized those things when getting to know you. What he wasn't expecting, was the way you seemingly recoil in pain when you encounter an odd texture.

That wasn't the only thing either. You struggled with discerning lefts from rights, which made for some funny interactions between the twins. You struggled with remember to care for yourself when you fell too deep into a hobby or task, seemingly not feeling the signals for, say hunger, until someone else brings it up.

Finally, he had to ask you about it.

You do your best to explain it to him, but once you do, he lets out a soft, understanding "Ohhh..."

You run off on a tangent then, frowning as you start to talk about Crowley and the fact he refused to even try to understand. It was nice having a routine to follow, sure, but not when there's so much being thrown at you on top of the lack of support.

Azul's blood boils, and he almost whips out his phone to contact the twins for... information.

He offers to write up a contract for you then and there, detailing you receive better treatment from Crowley, giving you some ease of mind and body against all the overwhelming sensations you deal with on the daily.

He'll even let you admire his coin collection while he writes it.

[darkangel11122]

Imagine you are a scientific minded king seeking to create the perfect weapons. Which you like to think you did in a way, they aren’t perhaps what the world government is looking for but they serve you well. All but 003 that is, it was the only true failure in your quest as far as you were concerned, you were almost glad when it ran away, even happier when you hired the ship it got in and ran aground. At least until you needed it then you wished you never let it leave as it finally had some use to you. Though it didn’t end well at all as apparently  it made “freinds” and the deal you struck was just a way to kill you and experiments, as well as get your technology for themselves. You left to lick your wounds as it were and continue on as if it never happened in some sense. 

Ever since though you’ve had this impending sense of doom that clouds your mind when things are quiet. Especially after the show 003’s captain put on against kido and big mom. The world’s top minds now mumbling words of  the drums of liberation beating once again, that ‘joy boy’ had returned. Which had set a lot of people’s teeth on edge. you're not too worried though, your perfect weapons will be able to handle him should this joy boy come to your shore. You’re not worried at all which is apparently unnerving to many when you say as much. Apparently this word of your lack of worry stretches far given the call you get 6 or so months after that attempted attack disguised as a way to permanently get rid of your failed experiment. 

The snail in your office rang loud late into the night after being quiet for a long time. Who could be calling you at his hour an interesting mystery, so you answer. It’s an ex-warlord, the greatest swordsman in The world since you hadn’t sent 004 or 002 to dethrone him, which they could. Why he's calling you is a mystery, as is how he got your personal number. 

“How did you get this number?”

 “That is of no concern to you, I have a message to deliver and should I go in person I risk handling something that is not mine to handle. I would say you would understand that kind of paternal care but I doubt you're smart enough to understand that.” 

His chiding makes you snarl at him, hissing words about sending one your experiment to dethrone him. All he does is laugh at you. 

“My message for you is this, while your life is not in my hands, at least at the moment. Should you think to come near the Bareite it would not just be the straw hats that meet you.” 

“And why do you care what happens to some drive bar?”

“I like the food.” 

“You can’t threaten me and get away with it!”

He laughs at you more, acting like you just said the Funniest joke ever. “Get away with it? I killed Don Kerige for interrupting my nap, I wasn’t a war lord because my parents were. As I said your head is not mine to take at this moment, though that can change if you wish. I can deal with a disappointed son, it’s the future son in law's upset I'm more worried about. Nevertheless keep your grubby mitts to yourself and it’s not my blade that meets your neck. “ 

He then hangs up and leaves you to deal with the aftermath. The swordsman’s threat does surve to keep you away from the dive more so than you already planned to. It’s not the last of that weird sense of impending doom that takes hold of your mind in the dead of night. 

After that call you notice 0000 and 0001 are acting strange. Not completely strange but at times you swear the two of them are talking when you’re not around and quickly stopping when you come near by. They both are acting a bit more disobedient to your commands, not so much saying no but more like they’re thinking about what you're saying. It of course stops after a few months, acting like they almost don’t want to follow your directions. The whispering you think your kind of hearing doesn’t though since you're not actually hearing what’s said it’s hard to say it’s them. Then it seems this little pausing is doing as their told passed to 0002 a month after 0000 and 0001 stop. Which continues for the same amount of time, a couple months, before he falls back in line. The talking you swear your hearing gets worse though, now three voices Instead of two, and then Bumping up for 4 shortly after 0002 falls in line once again. 0004 is more blatant about his disobedience. Actually talking back once though after a moment doing as he’s told like the others. You choose to blame 0003’s brief interaction with them causing this anomaly in them. Though it seems that it’s short and since they act normal, it’s like they’re immunizing themselves to its glitch. Which you're very glad about. As you're not Julius Caesar, and it’s not the ides of March, you're not worried in the slightest. 

You do worry a bit when you capture a devil fruit user, who appears to have some kind of fortune telling ability. Though it’s only in Riddles and puzzles so it’s not all that useful to you in all honesty. It’s good to have a new test subject though to further the understanding of devil fruits and how to make them at the very least. 

You don’t enjoy interacting with them from the jump though, all They do is laugh at you and spout off some nonsense at you that does little to soothe your nerves with the voices you're hearing at times now. It creates something very unsettling in the back of your mind that you do not like. 

As for the nonsense they say to you was something about what’s coming for you. It’s also the same thing you do over and over again too. ‘Green is your color! It’s green that you will see when the time comes. You’re lucks about run out, kindness given by hands not your will finally run out. None of that shall you find in the end, kind hand will not find you nor your body once your spirit is gone. All they shall remind  of you will be letters, and an awful step back for the land of germa. No sons or daughters to mourn, no, only tears of joy shall come. Wedding bells, not the ones before but true wedding bells start the clock. Babes and blades, yes a babe brings a blade. Mothers anger, earth and sky turn to you, earth more than sky. Sky, she does not weep for you, no not for you but for her children. Unstoppable shall be your karma the best at its craft, king of hell it shall bring but a straight line through is its favorite.’ They pause to laugh loud and long,’ oh how you beg! Beg and plead all you wish, come he still does, unchanged by your begging, laugh at it he does. Seeing the punchline to the joke you do not see nor will ever get. Offer him all you can what he wants you can not give, as peace is not something you can bring. Not even your death will bring it, they know this but the weight will perhaps be lessened. I hope he finds peace, after all he’s been through. ‘ After that they finally shut up, at least for the rest of the time you're around them. 

They managed to escape one night a few months after catching them. How you don’t know and none of your experiments know either. The whispering only grows louder like the voices could care less if you can hear them as time goes on. One sounds almost like the vessel that gave birth to your experiments, but that would be insane and impossible. You would get it checked out but that would be a weakness that could be exploited so best to keep it to yourself. 

The world changes quickly once the famed straw hat becomes pirate king. More than a few weddings happen in the aftermath. Not that you're worried about it, they would be crazy. That nonsense obviously meant 0004 getting married will bring your doom or whatever and since he can’t think for himself he never will. Which means you’re completely safe and all that the devil fruit user said was not going to happen. 

You live in arguable peace for the next few years. The change the world is under is not yet reaching you not for lack of trying of course but you're smarter than those idiots who ran the world government when it was still around. Your experiments keep trying to get a plan of action from you though, to keep the change away but unfortunately you're running out of places to hide and plans. Which it also or seems they sense given how amused they seem when you flounder , but they don’t have emotions so obviously that’s a trick of the light or something. 

Your throne room is in way your respite from it all. Your lab anymore holds too much that makes our mind race in ways you do not like. It’s so perfect you don’t hear the sounds of battle ranging just outside your doors, until it’s too late. 

The large doors crack and splinter to a near fine powder before they can even hit the floor. In their wake stands a lone man, a sword in his teeth and one in each hand. You call for your children but they don’t come, you can see they’re shadows in the hallway but they don’t move an inch as you call for them. Nor do the guards, thigh given the blood on all the blades they can be assumed to be dead. 

To your luck  the green haired man sheaths his three blades. Standing tall and unmoving just past the threshold of the door he dusted.  

“You were easy to find.”

“Who are you?!” 

“You don’t know who I am? Really keep your head in the sand haven’t you. I’m the world’s greatest swordsman. One of the wings or the pirate king. Your executioner.” 

“Didn’t think pirates moon lit as would be hit men.” 

“Eh this is personal, I made an exception.”

“Whatever they’re paying you I’ll double it.” 

“He’s not paying me, don’t really want money anyway,”

“Women then, power.” 

“Don’t need a woman, and I’ve got all the power I want already.”

“Then name your price!”

“I want him to be able to sleep at night without a nightmare, not wake up shaking. I want him to not flinch at a check up. I want him to be able to live without worry that you’ll come for him again, that our kid will be your next target, that he’ll somehow end up being like you. That’s my price.” 

“I can’t possibly give you that!” ‘He’, the ‘he’ this man must be talking about, has to be Sanji. You can’t give him that, you can undo what you did, you can’t change the past, you don't have that ability. No one does, but he must know that, he must know no matter how much he wants it that such things are impossible to give. Thus, it's impossible for you to give so it’s impossible for you not to die. 

Despite yourself you start to beg and plead for mercy, you call for your children to help you but they don’t come. No one is coming to save you, no one cares enough about you to save you. He then starts to laugh, finding your begging humorous, saying it was no use in calling for your kids, they aren’t coming. They want you gone and much as him, sora’s final wish from beyond the grave, what she wanted so desperately to come to pass has, her children are free. 

The blade once in his teeth is the one he unsheathes, the one that slices through you like butter. It was easy for him like it took no strength at all to cut you down, no need for more than one blade. You were an easy kill for him despite yourself, all that you thought of yourself didn’t stand a chance at all. The worst thing of all perhaps was no one cared at all as your blood colored the throne room, not even your children. 

 you were wrong in your assessment, you were Julius caesar, it was the idea of March and you should have been worried. 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

with the ides today, the little people who run my brain made me write fueled by our collective hate for judge.

yes, the rest of the siblings have feeling now, its what sora would have wanted to happen.

happy ides of march everyone!

[xomakara]

Off The Page

SUMMARY | Doyoung is a writer who has bestsellers and movies based on those bestsellers, but has run into horrible writer’s block. You’re an adventure guide and knows exactly what he needs for his inspiration to return.   

PAIRINGS | Doyoung x Reader

GENRE | writer!Doyoung, adventurer!Reader, non-idol au, blossoming romance

CONTENT/WARNINGS | other than a makeout scene, none really

RATING | SFW

LENGTH | 2,962 words

TAGLIST | –

NETWORKS |  @k-vanity @keopihaus

AUTHOR’S NOTE | Finally took forever to finish! I want to thank @daddyfordaeddy for the beautiful banner and @lovetaroandtaemin for beta reading this fic. Don’t forget to like, comment, reblog and show some support. Love you all 💚

NCT Main Masterlist

"So you're telling me," you started, staring at him from across the table, "that you're Kim Dohye? The bestselling author and romance novelist of Sweet Kisses?"

Kim Doyoung coughed into his closed fist, his cheek dusting with a light blush, looking almost irritated with you for some reason. "Yes. If you don't mind, could you please keep your voice down?" he murmured in a voice you could only describe as adorable, albeit embarrassed. He adjusted his hood over his head, further shadowing the small cafe where the two of you had met up for lunch.

It all started when one of your friends asked if you were planning on going on an adventure soon. Of course you were, and you even went as far as to tell her all the possible adventures you had planned out over the phone—from skiing off mountain tops with some local girls from up north, to kayaking through white-water rapids with other seasoned adventurers. But Minhye stopped you before you could finish, interrupting you with a quick, "Have you ever heard of Kim Dohye?"

Of course you had—you read books occasionally. Sweet Kisses had topped the bestselling list for nearly three years. Though you were an adventurer by profession, you did find some solace and comfort in being able to take a step back and travel somewhere else and immerse yourself in the art of a good story. Even if it was a romance novel. You read one every once in a while, mostly for a good laugh—but Kim Dohye? 

Kim Dohye's stories were powerful. Intimate. Warm.

Who would have thought that Kim Dohye was actually a man named Kim Doyoung? And that said Kim Doyoung could potentially be struggling to find a muse or some inspiration?

"So why a female pen name?" you had asked him while looking at the book jacket inside the front cover. "It's hard to imagine that you wrote a romance novel of this caliber. Though I should say, my respect for you has just gone up."

"Women's romances sell better," Doyoung explained from the side of his cup of coffee that he cradled between his hands. "I also needed some sort of persona so that Sweet Kisses wouldn't be traceable back to me. I can't imagine being approached in public or having my own photos leaked and exploited—especially given the content of my novels."

You knew all too well what he meant by that. And honestly, it didn't seem that bad to write under a pseudonym—it did open the door for more opportunities and less restrictions. When it came to writing novels in a male's perspective, albeit using a female pen name, it worked and people bought the novels because of the stories.

"Can I ask you something?" Doyoung asked, setting his cup down. "Why are you using a male pseudonym?"

"Well," you hummed, finishing your iced mocha. "There is always a difference, a tension maybe, between an adventure guide who is a man and an adventure guide who is a woman. Many of the men who hire me have preconceived notions about gender roles, so they are surprised and sometimes hostile when a woman shows up to be their guide. They probably think that they'll be stuck with me and that they won't get their 'wild, mountain man' experience because of my gender."

"And you prove them wrong?" Doyoung asks.

"Of course I do!" you huffed in response, blowing your cheeks. "They would have a mediocre trip at best without me! Who else would know how to pitch a tent at a proper 45 degree angle against the wind? Or how to tie knots so nothing could come undone? Or how to tell a poisonous mushroom apart from the normal mushroom? Or how to carve a spear for emergencies?"

"Spears?" Doyoung parroted, his eyes widening with every item you counted off.

"Sometimes we get into certain situations while camping or during a hiking excursion, and I like being prepared. It keeps me on my toes!"

Doyoung blinked back his disbelief. "What if one of these men were hostile toward you?"

"Mister Kim...I know over forty different ways to break someone's wrist," you started, leaning your chin on your knuckles and propping your elbow against the table. A devilish smirk rested comfortably on your lips, and you watched  as Doyoung visibly gulped. "Plus, I have a taser. Why the sudden curiosity?"

Doyoung shrugged his shoulders as his lips tugged in a small smile. "A writer's gotta stay informed and stay imaginative."

"Right," you drawled, noting the glint in his eye. "Then...I'm assuming Minhye told you about me to help with your writer's block?"

Doyoung twitched after hearing his editor's name before laughing airily. He never expected that his editor would have a friend like you, especially a friend who knew how to pitch a tent against the wind or use spears during camping excursions. But you had that fierceness in your eyes when you talked passionately, and when you gave him that playful wink, he knew his imagination had peaked with the new information he just learned—if only the imagination were coming easily to him. He knew just the character type now and just how they would react.

The thing was that he didn't have any words, any ideas, no dialogue…

He was blank.

He even tried using his personal experience with women and flirting—but even then, his mind was blank, and he came out with something bland and no emotion, no edge, and most certainly no driving factor for his readers, who were enamored by the plot in previous installments.

"Why don't you use me as a muse?" You suggested. "Your female characters are usually office or university students. Why not use someone...not from that particular demographic? Surely things would flow a bit easier?"

"Can I?" Doyoung asked, scratching the back of his head. "If I'm going to be honest, you're exactly the type of woman I am trying to avoid. You're not predictable."

"Well that's why you should try me," you chirped, biting back a cheeky grin as you finished your second coffee. "I'm an open book—a book who likes a little action. We could camp out in the woods. How about it?"

"This weekend?" Doyoung suggested, wringing the napkin in his hands.

"No better day than the present," you shot back in response.

"Just you and I?" he blinked.

"You scared of little old me, Mister Kim?" you grinned, holding back laughter when you saw his worried eyes. "Of course, you can bring friends if you feel uneasy."

"I'll ask Minhye if she can come..." Doyoung looked away. "At least to control you."

"Let’s not," you said in an airy tone as you stood up from your chair. “Last time I took her on a trip, she cussed me out. Besides, whenever I ask her to go on a trip with me, she always declines.”

"Sounds like her," Doyoung laughed as he walked beside you out of the cafe and onto the sidewalk. The air smelled fresh today, and there wasn't a cloud in the sky—it was perfect weather for the trip. He glanced over to you. "Do I really have to worry? You did mention something about learning how to break someone's wrist."

"Haha!" you chuckled dryly, swiping back a stray bang of hair that blew in front of your eyes. "Not at all! We just camp. Build fires. Enjoy nature. Explore. And lots and lots of water-sports and canoeing. Also hiking and other physical activities that may help you figure things out or see things from a different perspective."

Doyoung scratched at his chest with a little uncertain chuckle. "Yeah...I hope so."

Doyoung doubted even an entire adventure vacation would change things around, but then again, he wasn't sure where else to go or what else to do with his life other than just writing. He had finished the first draft for his latest novel and sent it out for editing—Minhye always gave him feedback at least a couple weeks ahead of time so he could start planning out a new draft or at least some outline to build off of for his next book. He hadn't had an encounter like this in months. The last time he met an adventurous woman with spunk was over half a year ago. And since then, his writing was just falling short.

Or rather, the relationship between the protagonist and his lover felt hollow and a little boring and a lot cliched. As cliche as it was in the beginning—a normal college student and his plain assistant and co-worker have a thing for each other and start going on dates. It would've been perfectly fine until the third novel, but in the past four novels, the relationship didn't have enough spice, no driving force or struggle to keep it alive or even spark interest. He wasn't feeling it anymore. He knew his readers were dying for more, and he was, too, but things weren't coming as easily anymore.

"I'll tell you a secret, Mister Kim." You had interrupted his train of thought, gently nudging his elbow with yours and giving him a soft and sympathetic smile.

"Hm? A secret?" Doyoung cocked his head.

"Women aren't only attracted to the well-dressed, good looking, smart man who makes a lot of money. Women are also attracted to men who are true to themselves. When a man is true to his passions and honest with his goals and dreams...women feel the drive of wanting to support that man and have a part of that goal too,” you smiled.

"You're sounding like a romantic yourself," Doyoung gave you a sidelong glance with a lopsided smile. "Isn't that more relevant to my field of work?"

You nudged his arm a little harder this time. "Listen. My point is, Mister Kim, you've got this whole nice boy thing going on. But what are you interested in?"

"Other than writing?" he cocked an eyebrow.

You laughed. "Yes, other than writing. You know the saying right? All work and no play makes Kim Doyoung a dull boy?"

"Right," Doyoung tried to hide his blush. There was a sense of authority that radiated from you that is the complete opposite of the female character profiles and tropes he's used in his series—and it was attracting him a little. "But I honestly don't know."

"Then why don't we have a few adventures, and I can help you along the way. What's the worst that can happen?" You shrugged.

Doyoung chuckled darkly. He couldn't say no and just say he wasn't interested—especially because he was a little intrigued by you—besides, it would be good for him. The storylines for the characters had become too repetitive—too similar, so much so, his editors were getting more difficult to work with. His imagination was slipping. But there was one problem.

The kiss scene.

Everything always starts from the kiss scene.

"Then, Mister Kim, it's settled." You turned around to face him, offering him your hand to shake. "For the rest of the afternoon and through to Friday, I'll be Mister Kim Doyoung's number one adventure guide. What do you say?"

Doyoung held his gaze between the earnest gleam in your eye, before nodding once and wrapping your smaller hand with his, giving you a firm handshake. "Deal. Just, please...can you stop calling me Mister? Just call me Doyoung."

"Alright Doyoung-ssi. Your guide will gladly escort you into the unknown."

"Jump in, Doyoung!" you called out, standing waist-deep in the waters of one of your favorite waterfalls, cupping the spray of freshwater in the palms of your hands as you brought the cool droplets to your face. You glanced over your shoulder, looking to Doyoung for his approval and seeing him gawking and shaking in his boots at the mere thought of jumping from a cliff the way you had, safely landing in the river below, just behind one of many cascading waterfalls at the local reserve park.

Doyoung could only nod and take a breath. The smell of earth and the crisp morning air was something he liked, and maybe was getting used to, after spending an entire week with you in the wilderness. The morning sun broke through the tops of the trees, birds were chirping nearby, the waters were clean, pure, and clear, and even if the climb up was hard on his body, the end results were breathtaking—in a way, his story-writing senses were wired again, and the imagination of the waterfall was beyond anything he had thought up or imagined before.

"Relax, relax, relax," you repeated to Doyoung over and over, watching as his shoulders gradually dropped and hearing the heaviness of his exhale, "I'm here, Doyoung. This cliff is high, yes, and you may not be an adventure-seeker like me, but at least trust your guide. Take another breath in and exhale. Breathe."

"Isn't there an alternative to jumping down?" Doyoung had asked. But then, he glanced down, seeing that the climb down was almost certainly a near-death experience of its own; and it was too long to rappel. "Ah...maybe not..."

"Breathe, Doyoung. Trust me."

After a few more steadying breaths, Doyoung jumped into the body of water, his heart racing and beating rapidly, screaming through the adrenaline and the feeling of euphoria and danger—the knowledge that the fall alone was long enough to kill him, should have killed him—and it scared the absolute wits out of him. The moment he fell backwards, he reached instinctively for you and grabbed at your hands, feeling the pressure of gravity on his legs and thighs and feet and—

"I got you," you laughed, squeezing his hand gently. "I got you."

In a daze, Doyoung started laughing—just full on belly laughing until he lost his breath completely and started coughing up water. "I can't believe...I just...holy crap!"

"Your adrenaline levels have never been higher, have they, Doyoung?" you beamed, leading him towards the shallow parts of the lake. "How does it feel?"

"Honestly?" Doyoung raked his bangs back as he composed himself. You were close to him now, and he swore his heart rate skyrocketed again when you smiled back. He gulped when his eyes flickered to your lips and then to your eyes. "It makes me want to do this."

Pulling you gently towards him and turning you so that your bodies faced each other, he wrapped his arm around your waist, placed his hand in the small of your back, and tugged you flush against him. His other arm moved up so he could slide a finger under your jaw to tilt your head to look back up at him again. Your expression was surprised, almost wanting, as you eyed his own lips, unconsciously leaning toward him. Your arms wrapped themselves around his neck and pulled him closer to your face until his forehead touched yours.

And he closed the distance, brushing his lips against yours.

Your lips were soft, full, warm, and welcoming, your arms wrapped a bit tighter around his neck. His fingers flexed on your hip, his mouth growing more hungry, tasting, biting your lip and pressing deeper. As if he's memorized you before, he could hear you gasp against his mouth, and he smiled into the kiss. His lips molded around yours again as he gave you a series of teasing nibbles that had your mouth parted in another gasp, before running the tip of his tongue lightly across your lower lip.

God, was it an amazing kiss.

The tips of his fingers prickled as the taste of you spread on his tongue. And for some reason, he couldn't get enough. He broke from your lips, hearing your heavy breathing. Before his mind could fully comprehend his actions, his eyes opened, and met the dewy and breathless look in yours.

"Doyoung..." your voice was low and a whisper against his lips, but your fingers were tracing lightly at his nape, massaging the tendons in his neck and stroking the side of his jaw. You leaned in again and stole his lips once more, and Doyoung could have sworn his vision went blank, but filled with only you, all you. "Oh god..."

You began to laugh, leaning your forehead on his shoulder, hearing his heartbeat, which was wild and rapid under your cheek.

Doyoung blinked, a sudden panic building in the pit of his stomach. That wasn't something he planned on doing. "S-Sorry...I-"

"Don't apologize," you hummed against him, wrapping your arm back around his neck. "I...liked it."

"Y-You did?" Doyoung felt relieved for some reason. His heart was hammering out of his ribcage—a different type of adrenaline running through his veins.

"Mm," you hummed in approval, stroking his cheek lightly and smiling at him. You giggled before pulling away, tugging him gently on his wrist. "C'mon. Let's go to the next destination!"

Doyoung felt the flutter in his stomach as you led the way, your fingers laced together, bringing a flurry of emotions he had never known in his life—the kind of emotions that his protagonist has experienced, or was going to experience soon.

Maybe this was it, he thought., Maybe this was where inspiration hit.

The image of you was carved deeply into the depths of his mind. That scene, the setting, the two of you holding each other in your arms. This is where his muse could finally come alive.

He needed to remember every last detail about you. Every little move. Every glance. He'd find a way to insert it all into his new novel—he was sure of that now. He squeezed your hand, grinning excitedly.

If there was anyone who could help him write, he knew it would be you.

[starkspondwater]

WHAT ABT SOME STUFF FOR OUR CRAIG MAN DUDE BRO IDK

( have you written about him idk )

like imagine craig being head over heels so much so that he cant have his nonchalant wheres my hug at attitude. him being flustered and shiii 😭 especially if the reader is the opposite of him... like dates at the mall w like a girly girl and he's all carrying victorias secret bags tryna be all stoic 😔 ( imagine he almost pulled a stan when reader was like looking at like cute lacy sets )

feel free to ingnore js tryna fulfill your wishes for more requests!

CRAIG! While I adore all the different pairings I've seen craig in, I do appreciate some craig x reader too! I love opposites being paired together, I think it makes for some fun interactions!

i will ignore nothing this was great

Summary: Craig meets a girl that has him doing things far from his norm, but he couldn't care one bit. (smut)

a/n: I know some people hate when others write him as very neutral, but I personally like it so that's what I'm doing!

Out of Character- Craig Tucker x Reader

Craig wasn’t sure how everything happened exactly. All he knew was one moment he had been dealing with bullshit in the groupchat he had with his childhood friends, his head hung low as he walked from one building on campus to another, and the next he was sprawled on the slightly damp ground. When he realized the person that ran into him full speed wasn’t just some douchebag, but a frantic looking girl in pretty tights, the anger dissipated and he found himself at a loss for words. 

Apologies spilled from your pretty lips as you gathered up the books you had dropped, embarrassment pouring out of you in a large wave. You barely even glanced at the tall boy you rudely ran into when you shouted a quick goodbye and ran off to your next class. Craig watched as you hurried off, his eyes trailing you all the way until you had disappeared around a corner. Just when he was about to get up himself, he noticed that you had missed a book in your haste.

It didn’t take much probing to know where you’d be. The book you left behind was a very specific textbook he had seen a few classmates tote around, and with his blunt way of questioning he was actually able to figure out exactly where and when this class was so he could return your book…and possibly get a closer look at you.

Wednesday at 9:50 am found him in one of the west side buildings waiting next to a classroom he had no business being by. He had been sitting idly by as students strolled through, his eyes scanning for any sight of you. To be honest, he was a little apprehensive. For one, he had only seen you once and it was unlikely you’d be wearing the exact same thing you had just the other day, and two, what was he supposed to say to you?

Craig had never been the most…social. He had made friends, really good friends, but that didn’t equate to having incredibly good social skills. He knew he often came off brash and blunt, two things that sometimes gave others cause to go on the defensive. Not a good first impression. He had been trying to think of the sort of greeting he might say when you came bounding into view.

With a pep in your step you had made it up the stairwell. Seeing you from this angle and not from down on the ground he could see you were very pretty. You definitely had a sort of sweet, simple style going on, something like he’d see Marj wear back home. Comfortable but still gave off the vibe that you made an effort. 

He was so lost in his analysis of you that he didn’t register how quickly you made it up the hallway. It was no wonder you had bulldozed him before with how intently you walked, making him stumble as he rushed to grab your attention.

“Hey.” You spun around at the sound of his voice.

“Hi?” For a second you looked at the boy in front of you in confusion. It took only a second when recognition dawned on you. “Oh! You’re the guy I knocked over Monday! I am so, so sorry about that again!”

“It’s alright…you left this,” he drawled, holding out your textbook. Your eyes grew a bit at the sight before you gave Craig a blinding smile. He was definitely cute, you decided.

“Thank you! You’re really a lifesaver!” gently taking the book from his hand, you hesitated going into your classroom. It was past 10 and though the professor wouldn’t actually begin things for another few minutes you didn’t have the time you wanted to talk with the boy. 

 Quickly pulling out a pen, you gestured for his hand. Curiously, he obliged, eyeing you warily. With small strokes you printed out a neat 10 digits before pulling away.

“Text me later and I’ll buy you a coffee!” Shooting him a wink and whipping back around, you were gone before Craig could respond.

He honestly wasn’t too sure what to make of you, but he did know that this small exchange left him wanting more. So, he texted and you both went for coffee, the rest was history.

_____

Craig was sure if his friends could see him now they would think some body snatcher had taken over him. Currently, you were a small step ahead of him while he carried your purse and a few shopping bags, and he was doing it without complaint. 

Craig did a lot of things that would’ve had his friends concerned for his mental faculties. Years of his laid back neutrality were testament to what he was about in life. So why in the hell was he following some girl around like a lovesick dog? You.

From the first coffee date he was drawn in, and apparently so were you because you kept inviting him to everything you did. He ended up doing a lot of things he normally would not have been caught dead doing, like participating in corny campus events and the dreaded paint nights your friends kept putting on.

He was surprised at first as he wasn’t talkative or particularly warm, but it didn’t seem to bother you. Even his occasional blunt commentary didn’t upset you, even if it was a little rude at times. You simply laughed and went with the flow, like you knew he didn’t mean anything by it. You understood him.

So whenever you looked at him with that pretty little face, he folded instantly.

Hell, you even had the poor boy buying you things. He worked part time at the campus bookstore and while he didn’t make much it wasn’t like he had rent to pay, so he was more than happy spending some of it on trinkets he knew you’d love. It was a little addictive seeing how excited you got over the smallest things, jumping up to make up for his tall frame, arms around his neck and dragging him into a sweet smooch. So of course he wondered what would happen with a little shopping spree.

He wasn’t disappointed. 

Watching you spin around and show off different things was more fun than Craig would ever admit. He enjoyed as you spun, twirling a small skirt around you as you asked for his opinion. Oh, he liked that. He liked knowing that you wanted to know what he liked. He liked everything you wore, but the fact that you even cared was extremely nice.

His favorite part of this trip, however, was one particular store. Victoria’s Secret. 

The name of it brings back memories of him and his friends, too young to really understand the true purpose of the place, daring the others to venture in and jack around. He had never actually been in one before and took the opportunity to look around as you flagged down an associate.

Craig could see the appeal of all the lace and fabric now that he was older. He marveled that there were so many options, different colors and styles adorning walls and displays all around him. It wasn’t long before you had gotten his attention once more, apologizing because he needed to wait while you tried on a few things. He simply shrugged and let you get to it as he walked around the small store.

He was about halfway to the registers when something caught his eye. Lingerie was not exactly something he felt strongly about, I mean why would someone want to deal with all of that just to get to the sex? The item in front of him had Craig realizing he was a stupid, stupid man.

The label said it was a “babydoll,” whatever the fuck that was, but he didn’t care about that. What got his attention was the silky, deep blue fabric of it, black lace along the top of the cups. It was simple, much simpler than most of the stuff he had walked past, but the color is what dragged his gaze over. It was the same blue as his hat, which was slightly more ratty but nonetheless the same one he’s worn since he was a kid. 

It’d almost be like you were wearing part of him.

Color you surprised to see him already holding a bag by the time you finally got to the register. A quick peek inside had you giggling, knowing just what he had planned.

The entire way back to your place Craig could not think straight, thoughts of what you would look like wrapped up in what he bought especially for you plaguing his mind. On the outside he looked cool, calm, and a little bored, but on the inside he was a blushing, impatient mess. The only things telling you he was looking forward to what was going to happen just as much as you were was the way his hands gripped the steering wheel and his slightly more aggressive driving.

_____

Walking into your ensuite to change, you tried to calm your nerves. It wasn’t as if the two of you had not done anything before, but something about this time felt different. Craig was not one to openly show his emotions very well, unless he was especially pissed off. You weren’t sure if he’d have any reaction to you at all even.

It was a simple set, a silk top and matching panties, both in that dark blue. You weren’t entirely sure what had attracted him to it but it was pretty regardless. You were pleased to note that Craig had a good eye as it fit just as it was supposed to. Taking a deep breath, you stepped out.

The reaction was immediate, small in nature, but enough for you to notice. His eyes widened at the sight of you standing there and from even this distance you could see he had stopped breathing. A flush crawled up his neck and onto his face, something you had rarely ever seen on him. You watched as he gulped before standing, walking closer to you.

“Do you like it?” a teasing smile played on your lips.

Craig said nothing, his eyes drinking you in. Bringing a hand up he grasped the edge of the top between his pointer finger and thumb, rubbing the material between them. His breathing had started back up, but you could tell it wasn’t even and this close you could see the way his pupils dilated.

“...Pretty…You look really pretty.” Craig mentally cursed himself for how shaky his voice came out. He knew you’d look good, he had pictured it enough during the day, but actually seeing it was something else. You were a complete vision to him and by god he was going to savor it.

He savored the way you led him back to bed. He savored the way you undressed him with care, kissing him throughout the process. He savored the way you got on top of him where you could feel just how bad he needed you. 

You had gotten the panties off but when you attempted to do the same with the top he stopped you. 

“Keep it on,” he pleaded, eyes so full of want that it stopped you in your tracks. 

You rode him slowly at first, but Craig couldn’t help himself. Grabbing your ass he pistoned into you harder and harder, his eyes never straying from your face. Once again, the idea of you wearing a piece of him came to mind.

“You’re mine,” he felt you clench around him, ripping a groan from him. “Say it. Say that you’re mine.”

You did just that, over and over again, keening as he kept his hold on you.

Craig never lost control like this, but tonight he felt feral. He was not a talker in bed, his noise level never above a huff in your ears as he fucked you, but tonight it was as if he was someone else. Seeing you dressed up for him, hearing you say how you were all his, it all drove him insane. 

He waited until you came to pull you down onto his chest, one hand cradling your head to his neck and the other firmly on the small of your back. He hammered into you, grunting noisily as the sound of skin on skin filled the air. 

He wasn’t sure how long he had you like that before he felt the tell tale sign of his own ruin. He couldn’t stop himself, pumping into you more and more until he knew he was about to burst. At the last second he pulled out and with a groan, warm spurts coated your center and inner thighs. 

Breathing hard, you rolled over and settled beside him. Silence followed the two of you for a time, and when you turned your head to look at him, you saw that Craig had once again put on his normal, neutral face. 

“So…you wanna order pizza and watch red racer reruns?” you giggled a bit at the way he nodded vigorously despite the look on his face. That was something you really loved, how it was the little things that told you what he felt. It was really cute the more you thought about it. 

Getting up you grabbed the discarded panties, wondering if you’d have time for a shower before the pizza got there when another idea popped into your head. If this made him act like that once, could it happen again?

“Hey Craig? Would you be alright if I just wore this the rest of the night?” You put on your most innocent look, fluttering eyelashes and all. You knew your answer as you saw the faint creeping of a blush once more. 

Craig was more than okay seeing you in that thing, in fact, he showed you that much two more times that evening.

[shamefilledsnzblog]

Exploration

So, uh, this is the horniest thing I've ever written. Actually, think it's the only sex scene I've ever written. NSFW!

The Underdark expedition have found some hot springs, a perfect place to relax after a day of exploration. Serafina waits for Perry there and, convincing him of her affections at last, receives some rather intimate attention from him...

Of all the discoveries the party had made so far, the hot springs were the one Serafina had come to appreciate most. The great vistas Perry had shown her, lit with an ethereal glow of bio-luminescence, alive with a haze of spores and various creatures she could never have imagined, were of course magnificent. The ruins of ancient temples and towers and fortresses were breathtaking and inspired her imagination. The myconid colony, populated with mushroom people, some of them as tall as trees, had filled her with wonder. But at the end of a long day of exploring, being able to sink into hot water and let it soothe away the day’s aches and irritations was nothing short of heavenly.

Serafina lounged on the soft moss at the edge of one of the larger pools, her feet dangling in the water. She wore only her trousers, rolled up to the knee, and a loose blouse, unbuttoned far more than was proper. The rest of her clothes and belongings were discarded in a pile beneath one of the enormous glowing mushrooms that shaded the area. Serafina would eventually shed her remaining clothes and add them to the pile, but for now, she simply waited, tail flicking lazily, anticipating company.

The imminent arrival of her expected company was announced before long, and her tail began to flick faster as she heard his approach.

“HhHIIEssshhHYIEWW!”

Serafina smiled, laying back more and looking up at the mingled steam and spores swirling through the air, lit by the soft blue glow of the surrounding mushrooms. Those spores would be tormenting Perry by now, invading his over-sensitive nose, setting it twitching, scrunching, sniffling…

“HhhSHIEW! H-shhIIIEW! HhhiieeeSHYIEW!”

Poor man, he always sounded so weary by this time of night. After a day of sneezing, trying desperately to rid himself of the irritants he continuously breathed in, his sneezes always took on an exhausted quality. Still as desperate as ever, but they sounded as if they were being wrenched from him, somehow. No doubt he was coming here in the hopes that the steam might soothe him. Serafina could see his face in her mind’s eye. Lips parted, damp-lashed eyes beginning to close, red nostrils flaring wider, and wider, until…

“AhhhSHYIEW!”

With that last outburst, Perry emerged from the path leading to the spring. He failed to notice Serafina at first, too busy wearily blowing his nose. He sighed and dabbed at his streaming eyes with his handkerchief, before tucking it back into his pocket. Giving an irritated sniffle and scrunching his nose, he looked up and saw Serafina at last, and stepped back with a soft a cry of alarm.

“Miss DeVille!”

“Bless you. Joining me for a soak?”

Already somewhat flushed from his sneezing fit, Perry turned even pinker, his eyes widening as he took in Serafina lounging casually on the soft moss, her hair down, her blouse half open. She tilted her head, flicking her tail as if in invitation.

“I… Apologies, I didn’t realize you were already… Erm… I’ll go, please enjoy your bath…”

Struggling to keep his eyes averted, Perry hastily turned to leave, bumping his head on the cap of a giant mushroom in his hurry to flee. The movement shook loose a puff of spores, and Perry, already flustered, struggled to get his handkerchief out in time.

“HSHYIEWW! SHIEWW! HASHYIEWW!”

Tail flicking faster, Serafina got to her feet and padded forward. Perry, utterly helpless and near bent double with sneezing, could do nothing as she rested a hand on his back.

“Poor thing, that nose of yours is wearing you out. Come and sit, and breathe the steam. I’m sure that will help.”

“Plea-eeESHIEW! SHIEW!... No need… HhhSHYIEW!”

“There’s every need. Listen to you, you can barely speak. Come, sit.”

With an arm around Perry’s shoulders, Serafina guided him to the side of the pool, helping him clumsily sit down. She rubbed his back as he sneezed again and again, growing increasingly breathless, until at long last the fit trailed off with a weak, exhausted “Hhhshew!”.

“Bless you again. That’s it, blow your nose. Now, deep breaths. Try to take in some of the steam.”

Perry did as he was told, blowing his nose delicately, as if afraid of setting it off once more. Putting away his handkerchief at last, he took in a cautious, snuffly breath, and gave a sigh of relief when it didn’t immediately escape as another sneeze.

“Apologies, Miss DeVille. The spores, I couldn’t help but breathe them in, and…”

“Peregrine, how many times? No apologies! And how many times must I say, it’s just Serafina? You can at least call me that here, can’t you? As far from polite society as we can possibly be?”

She kept her hand on his back, rubbing in slow, soothing strokes, and felt the tight muscles loosen a little. Perry, cheeks still flushed, avoided her eyes. He seemed to be trying to avoid looking at her entirely, though with her so close, she had noted his eyes briefly darting to her barely-covered chest. Adorable, the shade of pink he turned at the sight.

“I… I should leave you to your bathing.”

“Perhaps you should, but do you want to?”

Perry fell silent, but for the occasional sniffle, seemingly lost for words. His hair had come loose from its ribbon as he sneezed, and Serafina reached out, delicately tucking a strand back behind his ear. At the touch, he turned to face her at last. He met her eyes, as if looking for some sign that this was a trick, or just her usual playful teasing.

“Were you waiting for me?”

“I was. Ever since we found this place, you’ve been coming here around this time, to wash away the spores. I though tonight I might help you.”

“With… With bathing?”

“With bathing. Relaxing. Look at you. You’re awfully tense. Practically trembling, poor thing.”

She brushed a little more hair from his face, and this time, let her hand linger. Sure enough, Perry’s hand trembled a little as he raised it, laying it over hers. His eyes remained on hers, wide and nervous. And, as her fingers gently brushed his cheek, dilating noticeably as his breath caught.

“I shouldn’t… This is… Are you sure you..?”

Serafina smiled fondly, cupping his cheek with her hand, feeling her heart warm as he leaned into her touch, seemingly out of sheer instinct.

“Peregrine, when you left for the Underdark for that first expedition, I wept, wishing I’d kissed you goodbye, propriety be damned. I’ve sat with you as you studied. I’ve danced with you. I’ve played you music. I’ve nursed you when you were ill. And as close to you as I get, I always find myself wanting to be closer. So yes, Peregrine. I am sure.”

Perry remained silent, letting her words sink in, his hand still over hers. Seeming to find no trace of teasing, he allowed his eyes to wander a little at last. His gaze fell to take in her body, so much more of it on display than usual. He swallowed hard, meeting her eyes once more.

“I… I’m a little lost for words.”

“Well, shall I provide you with a script? If I’ve read you wrong, then simply say ‘Miss DeVille, I’m flattered, but I would like to bathe alone.’ Or, if you’d like things to go a little further, ask ‘May I kiss you, Serafina?’, and I’ll give you your answer.”

Perry swallowed again, closing his eyes and taking a breath.

“May I kiss you, Serafina?”

Her smile widening, Serafina leaned in, pressing a kiss to his lips.

“You may. Amongst other things.”

Perry opened his eyes, blinked, and broke into a smile, letting out a breathy, rather giggly laugh.

“I never thought I’d have the chance…”

He leaned in and kissed her, one hand stroking back her hair. Serafina let out a hum of pleasure, pulling him forward into her embrace. Stroking one hand up his chest, she found the knot of his cravat and began to tug it loose. Perry’s hand moved from her hair and slid down her back, coming to rest on her waist. He broke off the kiss, breathing heavily, and after giving Serafina a tentative look, kissed her neck.

“Is this…”

“Yes. Please.”

Serafina pulled his cravat loose and cast it aside, setting to work on unbuttoning his waistcoat. Her breathing quickened as Perry kissed her neck again. And again, lower. His own breath began to quicken, growing unsteady as he reached her collarbone. He might have explored lower, except…

“HISHIEW!”

Serafina couldn’t hold back a moan as the mist settled on her neck and shoulder. Warmth pooling in her belly, she squirmed imperceptibly as Perry pulled back, fumbling for his handkerchief, sneezes and apologies muffled into its folds.

“Damned allergies… HiieeSHYIEW! HasHIEW! I’m so sorry, I… SHHIEW! Snf!... That was awful, I can’t apologize en-ehhhESHEW!... enough…”

Serafina seized his wrist and, making him lower the handkerchief, kissed him, softly at first, then with increasing urgency. She felt his nose, warm from a day of allergic torment, twitch against her cheek. When Perry, his nose now too stuffed for easy breathing, paused to catch his breath, Serafina resumed her work on his buttons.

“Are you sure you… HSHYIEEW!... I’m so terribly sorry, that’s likely to keep happening. Perhaps we ought to wait until…”

Serafina pulled him into another kiss, smiling at his somewhat bewildered expression.

“Peregrine, if we wait for a time when you don’t have to sneeze, I’m afraid we’ll be going to our graves unsatisfied. If I were revolted by it, we wouldn’t be here. Now, would you kindly resume your attentions?”

With his nose momentarily appeased, Perry needed no further encouragement. Settling his hand on her waist once more, he pulled her close, pressing kisses to her mouth, her jaw, her throat… Serafina took his hand and guided it under her blouse, sighing with pleasure as it reached her breast.

“Is this alright? Apologies, I’m familiar with all of this in theory, but…”

“Peregrine, if you apologize one more time I’m going to bite you.”

“Really?”

Peregrine flushed a deep red at the earnestness in his voice, seemingly as surprised as she was at what had come out of his mouth. Serafina let out a rather unladylike snort of laughter, and resumed unbuttoning his waistcoat.

“Well, we have things to explore, it seems! Speaking of exploration, do feel free to let your hands wander.”

“It’s just… When you talk, I can see the points of your fangs, and I’ve wondered on occasion…”

“Have you, indeed?”

Serafina eased his waistcoat over his shoulders, then pulled him back in, kissing him again. He slipped his hand beneath her blouse once more, feeling her breast move with her increasingly rapid breathing, before lowering it, finding the waistband of her trousers. He broke off kissing her to give her a questioning look, and she nodded, before tugging the ribbon from his hair and running her fingers through the silken strands.

Easing her trousers over her hips and setting them aside, Perry blushed at what he saw beneath. Looking to Serafina for confirmation once more, he set his fingers to work, parting her folds. After all his sneezing, she was slick enough for there to be no resistance at all. Serafina let out a gasp as he found what he was looking for.

“AH! You’ve clearly studied your theory well. Some men need a map down there!”

Perry lit up at the praise. Charmed, Serafina pulled him in for another kiss, moaning against his mouth as his delicate fingers stroked and circled. What he lacked in experience, Perry made up for in attention to detail, seemingly noting what drew noises from her lips and altering his technique accordingly. Serafina all but whined when he slowed his ministrations and, face flushed, avoided her eyes for a moment.

“I wonder… I’ve read… I wonder if I might try…”

“Try whatever you like. You clearly have an instinct for it. Just don’t stop.”

To her immense frustration, Perry did stop, looking around for something. Spotting it and smiling, he rose, positioning himself to get up, and wrapped one arm around Serafina’s shoulders, the other beneath her knees, clearly meaning to lift her.

“May I?”

Serafina nodded, and let out a giggle as he scooped her up, holding her against his chest. As he carried her to a nearby moss-covered rock, she pressed a kiss to his exposed throat, and gave him a teasing nip. The noise he made was utterly delightful.

Perry set her down on the rock, and knelt before her, looking equally excited and nervous. Looking to her once again for permission and receiving a nod, he parted her legs and leaned forward, his mouth picking up where his fingers had left off. Serafina gasped, arching her back, and placed a hand on his head, stroking his hair as he attended to her.

“Is this..?”

“Peregrine, I don’t know what you’ve been studying, but… AH! … Top marks…”

Serafina squirmed, her fingers stroking through Perry’s hair, her breathing quickening, unsure if she wanted him to draw matters out, or go in for the kill. Perry’s hand stroked her thigh as his tongue circled her most sensitive region, and she moaned, whimpered, squirmed, and…

“HHYIESHIEW!”

“AHH!”

Her fingers gripped his hair tight as the cry was drawn from her throat, and Perry pulled back in horror, eyes wide.

“I didn’t feel it coming, I’m so very…”

Serafina leaned forward and crushed her lips against his, tasting herself on them.

“Don’t you dare apologize!”

“I… should I keep going?”

“I may do something drastic if you don’t!”

Blushing furiously, nose still twitching, Perry bowed forward once more, pausing as he attempted to find his rhythm again to rub his nose against her inner thigh. Serafina let out a desperate mewling, her skin now shining with sweat. Her breathing grew quicker and quicker, warmth and tension growing and growing, until, with one last sweep of Perry’s tongue, she arched her back once more, barely recognizing her own voice as she cried out.

Breathing heavily, she watched as Perry rose, taking his handkerchief from his pocket to attend to his nose and tidy himself up.

“Was that… HhssHHIEW! Snf! Guh, I beg your pardon. Was that..?”

Loose limbed, smiling lazily, Serafina took hold of the front of his shirt and pulled him into a kiss, slow and languorous. She leaned her forehead against his, feeling his nose twitch as it touched hers.

“Every time I think you can’t surprise me more…”

“Erm… Would you like that bath now?”

Serafina kissed him again, first on the lips, then, pressing a quick kiss to the tip of his nose. Her smile widened as it twitched again, and she pulled Perry into an embrace, feeling his chest expand until he unleashed an irritated “HYESHIEW!” over her shoulder.

“Bless you. And the bath can wait a little longer. I believe there’s still you to attend to.”

[laura1633]

I've made my piece that this year is probably the year Max' run is going to end. He's had such a good run and I'm grateful that RBR provided him a good car for most of the time.

However, I'm still of the opinion that it's time to jump ship. RBR is sinking quite fast. Horner's head got way too big. Waché and his team clearly lost key figures and they are not able to compensate and actually build a decent car that can take the fight to McLaren and Ferrari. Max should not fulfill his contract and what I've heard he thankfully has performance clauses in his contract which could mean he could leave.

I'd love to see Max in a different car. I'd love to see him in red. I'd love to see him beside Charles. Eternal rivals finally united in one team, terrorizing the other drivers.

(I could also imagine Max taking revenge and joining Mercedes just so George loses his seat, because let's be honest: if Toto got the chance, George would be out of this seat faster than he could say yabadabadoo).

I think going into this season I have just assumed that Red Bull will not be competitive and so if they do end up being so then it's a bonus. I know Max can do amazing things in a car and will get the absolute maximum out of it but there comes a point where the car performance doesn’t allow you to compete for the championship and this may or may not be the year. 

It’s been amazing that he has won four in a row and if this run did stop at four I truly think that if he wanted to stick around long enough then he could easily go on another run and get another four. Overall though he has already proven that he is one of the greatest of all time. That’s not to say he won’t be in the fight, I am just setting my expectations low and then I can only be pleasantly surprised, unlike last year when I set my expectations high and the RB20 happened! 

I think a big test of whether Max will want to stay long term at RBR will be whether they can identify and fix the issues and develop in the right direction.  If they can’t then surely you start losing faith in the longer term. I also Max will have knowledge of how their engine development is going so it will be interesting to see what he does. 

I would love to see Max at Ferrari, even knowing the history of world champions who go there haha! I think him and Charles would be a really exciting team and Ferrari don’t seem to have any issues with having two ‘No1’ drivers. (Also on a non racing related note I think the PR videos of the two of them would be insanely embarrassing in the best possible way) It would be interesting if Charles wins the world championship to see if Ferrari then want to revert to getting a ‘2nd driver’ in to support their champion or if they continue with the two lead drivers.

I know a lot of people hate the idea of Max going to Mercedes and I completely understand why because I remember the things said about Max during 2021 but I do feel like if Max believed Mercedes could delver him a more competitive car then there is a chance of him going there. Kimi and Max in a team would be great too! It will be interesting to see what happens with George's contract negotiations and if he does re-sign then how long for.

I suppose Aston Martin is also an option. Honda have said they would like to work with Max again and I believe Newey would welcome Max going there. 

It’s going to be an interesting 1 or 2 seasons… I hope that if it is the case that Red Bull are not strong at the start of the season they can at least get on top of their development.  

[bleue-flora]

Hi hi i am curious abt how u imagen c!dream to look like? :3 cause tbh the eye nipples are not it

And does he look different any of your fics?

[context]

Hmm… good question. I actually was thinking about this back in September when thinking about what Dream’s ghost would look like, and came up with this idea that the cloak Dream wore more in the beginning of the server was his skin color and had cat ears just like the hats ccDream wears. I also was thinking about how I added parts of Punz’s skin onto Punz’s armor in my art like the black stripe [here], so what if Dream has something similar with the smily face. So last night I altered my art [original] to kinda demonstrate what I mean, it’s not like a final draft or anything, but just to get the idea.

But basically this is one way we could interpret Dream’s skin, where he could either be wearing white or have like white belts, has a smily face on his chest plate and a neon green cloak. So this is more or less what I imagine Dream looked like pre-prison, though slightly different like his hair would be short (and maybe instead of wearing his parrot’s feathers in his hair like shown he has an earring or something plus he also wears rings of course like ccDream), and his cloak and clothes wouldn’t be baggy and ragged like is shown - those were just already there originally. Though I think someone talked sometime about Dream’s clothes getting darker and darker as time went on and I love the symbolism of that so I do think his clothes were lighter greens and grays and the white (still the same cloak though), so this look of all black would be after the dethronement.

Dream in prison looks like… well something like how I did him for my Musical Chairs art [original]

with his hair getting that shaggy longer look and starting to grey at the roots. Technically he probably should look thinner (and canonically based on his skin he should have a mask… and maybe his jumper should be neon green) but… like I also picture him not unlike Oliver Queen from Arrow who is very fit, like if this were a movie or tv show, personally I want characters to be pretty, that’s part of the appeal :) so he will be scarred but not to the point of like gross to look at. He’d also be paler than the picture shown, which just has residual shading from the og, because man hasn’t seen the sun in a long while. And he does have a shirt on when people are around (besides Quackity of course :] lol)

And well like I said I did art for how I see post-prison Dream [here], though I think ever since I noticed the map which confirmed the timeline of staged duo’s experiments [post], I’ve started questioning how I see Dream and whether or not I think they did a lot of death experiments on each other [post], so I think the post-prison Dream I see now includes a lot less white streaks in his hair than my art. If he had long hair I also imagine he wore it in a braid a lot… though honestly in my head he often has short hair so maybe he only has long hair in Crow’s Nest and Niki teaches him to braid it…

But yeah in general, as far as how he looks for my fics… you’ll notice I don’t really describe that beside things like eye color and injuries because I want the reader to be able to imagine Dream with whatever headcanon they have (similarly to how I write the more intimate moments between staged duo in a way that if you ship them it still works). Perhaps that’s why you are asking lol… umm most of my fics are in a timeline of sorts and meant to fit into canon, of course in If The Crown Fits, Wear It Dream wears a crown post-prison. In Good Cop ‘Bad’ Cop I think Dream’s clothes and stuff would be a little less like ripped up and bloody since it wasn’t super obvious to Bad. Also since in lore he loses his armor when scrapped lore happens and when Tommy kills him, there would actually be three different looking sets for the post-prison Dream look. In the Haunted House Timeline, which sticks to canon up until the events of Crow’s Nest, Dream would look less ragged since he stayed at Techno’s for a while so he gained some weight back and looks more healthy overall… in general though they are look very similar because they are all canon compliant. :)

[oliviadempseyart]

Puts a whole new meaning to blowing the bathroom up lol.

[alwaysahiccupandastrid]

Pixar did not have to go as hard as they did with the Kronos Unveiled scene in The Incredibles (2004), yet they did anyway and gave us one of the best scenes in modern cinema. Literally cannot stop thinking about how good this scene is, from the animation to the build up to the soundtrack.

I don’t think I truly understood how dark this scene - and this film - was a child: Syndrome is systematically and strategically luring in superheroes and killing them off in order to test and improve his Omnidroid design… these people were not only supers but they also had family and loved ones too, just like Bob, and one day they would have just disappeared because chances are they weren’t telling people where they were going because it was "top secret" and against the law. They thought they were doing something good, like helping the people in the island, while also getting to relive their glory days, perhaps even paving the way for superheroes to make a proper comeback… only for Syndrome to kill them in cold blood.

Most of these people can actually be seen at Bob and Helen’s wedding in the beginning of the film - they weren’t just random supers, they were their friends, people they worked alongside and cared about. It’s even worse when you realise that Bob probably blames himself because, after all, Buddy/Syndrome was his biggest fan and he dismissed him by not letting him help.

The relief on Bob’s face when he realises Syndrome doesn’t know where Helen is - meaning he also doesn’t know where their children are because he didn’t realise they were married at this point - is so realistic and gut wrenching to see. The relief contrasting with the anguish of knowing how much danger they and their entire family could have been in the entire time without even knowing...it's so well-done, you can literally feel it.

It’s also worth noting that originally the next target wasn’t Mr Incredible but Frozone - that was who Mirage was trailing, hence why his location is “known”. Imagine if she/Syndrome hadn’t realised that Mr Incredible was with him and they’d lured Frozone in instead as planned; he would have gone to the island to fight the Omnidroid 8 in a volcano setting. We saw how being in the burning building dehydrated Frozone and made it impossible to use his ice powers - presumably it would have been the same in the middle of a lava filled volcano, and he’d have been slaughtered just like the other superheroes before him.

This scene shows an entire generation of superheroes - Bob, Helen and Lucius’ generation - wiped out all because Syndrome felt slighted by his hero as a child, because he internalised that slight and let it drive him to revenge. And, if we take into account the deleted alternate opening scene, it’s mentioned that superheroes "aren't supposed to breed” - meaning there’s a likelihood that Violet, Dash and Jack-Jack are among the very few supers of the next generation. I know that it's deleted and so not really canon, but it's definitely a concept to consider, I think.

Then there's the fact Syndrome named the project "Kronos" - Kronos was a God who overthrew his own father in order to take over his rule, and then he ate his own children to prevent them doing the same thing to him. It feels like it reflects Syndrome once looking up to Mr Incredible and even saying "I could be your ward!", meaning Mr Incredible adopting or fostering him - the project name is a metaphor for Syndrome destroying the Supers, especially Mr Incredible, who he viewed as a father figure. The Omnidroids he built killed two birds with one stone: not only was he able to acquire the data to upgrade the robot to its final design, but it also eliminated the real super heroes and so left him as the last remaining "superhero", even though his powers are man-made, not something he was born with.

Not only did he want to become the only remaining superhero by killing the real ones in revenge, he also planned to sell his inventions at some point so everyone can be super - because "when everyone is super, nobody is". It's like a final blow to the memory of the superheroes he had killed.

I've talked too much about this scene but God... I love it so much more as an adult because it's just so chilling to think about. I'm sure other people can put it much more articulately than I just tried to, but I just really wanted to appreciate this scene.

[nezuscribe]

(slightly suggestive)

another little drabble for arranged marriage!gojo but imagine a moment before he confessed but something was looming over the two of you. it was crossing the line of friends, not necessarily husband and wife, but two people desperately in love and didn't know how to say it.

you were in one of your late-night frenzies, your brain so muddled with every thought that you decided to do what you knew best: bake.

you often find yourself in this situation as of late, but it truly seems to be the only thing that helps. you wanted to tell gojo how you were feeling, but it was too far in, so you decided something simple and sugary would help you in the moment.

at this point, the walk to the kitchens was something you could do blind, and considering how many times you did this, you already knew where all the ingredients were.

you set out your sugar and flower, and go rummaging in the cold cellar for some butter and eggs. you try not to think about how at dinner gojo slid closer to you, your arms touching as he leaned in to whisper something in your ear. or how a couple days ago he had found you in the library, reading next to a windowsill, cozying up next to you as he read the book over your shoulder.

you're so lost in your head with sifting the ingredients that you fail to realize that the very man himself had come up secretly behind you, curiously watching you in your element.

(he'd never admit that he'd first gone to your room, and only came down here after he realized you were gone).

but, unlike the last couple of times, you'd gotten used to his stealthy ways. he was quiet, sure, but you could recognize him by his slight breath alone, or the way he smelled faintly of cloves.

you try not to let your breathing hitch, or let a smile grow on your face as you decide to break the silence.

"if you try to scare me while i'm baking you better rethink your choices," you warn him and hear gojo snicker quietly behind you.

gojo moves from where he was standing, and he leans his back against the counter next to you, craning his neck to look over at your bowl.

your eyes dart to the side, to the way his arms are resting behind him as he balances himself back on them (or the way his arms bulge and veins pop).

"what's on your mind tonight?" gojo asks, knowing you only do this now whenever you're stressed out.

"not much," you mutter, despite wanting to say you, you're on my mind.

he tsks, not buying your lie as he leans in a little close, his head blocking your view of your mixing bowl as he tries to get a little taste with his fingers.

"hey!" you cry, smacking him lightly on the back of his neck, "your hands are all grimy!"

you watch as he peers at you from the corner of his eyes, glaring at your offensive remark as he retracts away, a small pout on his face as you grin in slight victory.

"my hands are clean," you hear him mumble petulantly and you chuckle, rolling your eyes at his antics. the closer the two of you got, the more you found out that his closed-off and aloof demeanor was just a facade for a dramatic, grouchy man-child.

there's a comfortable silence for a moment, one where you're mixing and one where he watches you mix. you don't really notice the quiet anymore, just another added sound when you and gojo grow more comfortable together.

"how was your day?" he finally asks, a simple question, but you know he's using it as a mask to find out what was wrong with you.

"good," you say with a shrug, starting to gently fold in your wet mixture with your dry one, "you weren't at dinner so i was actually able to eat in peace," you add, trying to sound indifferent when really it's what spurred this entire thing on. how, when you realized that you missed seeing him, talking to him, being near him, you were really, really, missing him. and that's not how friends are supposed to act. or, at least, from what you've heard.

gojo smiles, a soft look on his face. you're trying to be sarcastic, he knows that, but there's something...deeper behind your words, something that he too feels.

"the eastern tribe took up more time than i thought they would," he explains, his blue eyes glowing when he notices the way you slightly relax, "i tried telling them that my wife was waiting for me, but apparently peace negotiations can't be postponed."

you bite your lips, trying to hold back your giddy smile at his words. you know he's probably teasing you, using the phrase my wife as a way to get out of a boring meeting, but you love it nonetheless.

he knows you do.

"those bastards," you murmur teasingly, hearing his loud laugh as he lightly shoves you with the point of his boot.

"yeah, well, they don't have wives back home," he crosses his arms over his chest, pressing his lips into a thin line, "so they don't know the feeling."

you swallow thickly, not looking over at him when he says that.

there's another silence as you continue to fold the batter, sensing that same feeling wash over the two of you.

"let me grab a..." you turn around, head craning to look for a spoon to dip in the batter, needing to make sure the sweetness wasn't too overbearing (and because you liked tasting the batter before it was sent off to be baked thoroughly), but stop when gojo pulls the bowl in closer to him.

you watch as he glides his finger across the sides, not letting it touch the actual bulk of the mixture, and brings it forth towards your lips.

his brows cock upwards, as if he was waiting for you to try it.

you give him a look, nose slightly wrinkled.

"i swear my hands are clean," he promises, crossing one hand over his chest as a sort of pledge, but that's not what holding you back, shouldn't he know that?

your mind is working to beat the thrill of your heart, the one that's pulling you towards him like a magnet, the one that desperately wants to have his finger in your mouth.

you bite your cheek for a second, eyes flickering up from his to his finger, and some sort of heat in you takes control as one hand gently grabs his wrist, pulling his hand closer to your parted lips.

your tongue darts out, your mouth closing over the digit as you taste the sugary batter coating your tongue. you feel dizzy, your stomach twisting, a heat taking over your body as your tongue swipes over it, licking it clean.

it's nothing overexaggerated, nothing too crazy. you lick his finger the way you'd like your own, but fuck, this isn't your own finger and gojo's looking at you with his pupils blown wide, the blacks overtaking the blue in his eyes.

your hand is still holding his wrist, your lips gliding over it as you pull away, breathing slightly less when you glance up at him.

gojo swallows thickly, hoping you don't see the bulge that's growing in his pants.

"good?" he chokes out, his voice thick in his throat.

"yeah," you mutter, the batter still lingering on your tastebuds, "it's perfect."

fuck, you're both screwed.

[darkbluekies]

Til death do us part

Yandere!mafia oc x reader

Summary: A summer romance turns dark as Silas can't accept that you've married someone else

Warnings: kidnapping, murder, blackmail, threats, Silas belittling darling, violence, isolation, jealousy, possessiveness

Word count: 5k

He’s everything you could have ever wanted. He’s sweet, caring and works at a bank. He can provide for you. He’s from a good family. Everything about him is perfect, everything you could ever have dreamt of. You could never have imagined that you would find a man like him after what happened last summer. 

You had met a man on the way home from dinner with a friend, someone that had helped you after the grocery bag you had bought food in on the way home. He had introduced himself as ‘Silas’ and had walked you home, carrying the groceries for you. You had thanked him. Silas had asked if you wanted to meet for coffee sometime, and you had agreed, innocently thinking nothing of it. You had gone out with him multiple times. Never actually becoming a couple, but acting like it. It was harmless, you thought. You kissed, went on dates and you knew that if things continued like this, you’d fall for him. 

But you noticed that something was weird about him, and it made you feel cautious in his presence. He never told you anything about his life and when you asked, you noticed that something shifted in his dark eyes. As if he tried to come up with a lie. It creeped you out somehow, because why couldn’t he tell you? Maybe you shouldn’t have trusted a man who tried to cover up his tattoos.

You finally got to know the truth at the end of the summer. A friend who had seen the two of you together had recognised him from a newspaper. He was a criminal, a leader of a mob, who was more dangerous than you could have anticipated. You had cut contact with him and moved away so that he wouldn’t be able to find you again. 

But he did. Somehow, he did. 

Letters have been piling up in your mailbox during these last few weeks, addressed to you and written in red ink. Your heart had stopped when you read the first one. 

“Y/N, I’ve missed you. I’ve missed you so terribly much. My heart bleeds and aches for you. You left me because you were scared. I get that. I get that very well, this is a world you should be afraid of, but I will protect you. I will take care of you better than that man ever could. Yeah, I know that you’ve found someone new. I know that you’re planning to get married. Quite quick, don’t you think? You haven’t known him that long, and now you’re getting married? Silly Y/N, you’re so cute. Do you really think you love him? Are you trying to reassure yourself that I’m a part of your past that will never return? Or are you trying to make everyone around you believe that you’ve gotten over me and moved on? I know you still think of me. I know you want me. And I want you too. I have never wanted someone other than you. You and me are meant for each other. Don’t marry him. Come back to me. It’s you and me til the end.”

You hadn’t shown your fiance, but he had noticed that something had been wrong with you. You had become silent and distant. Letter after letter came to your mailbox and he realized that something serious had happened. You had no choice but to tell him about Silas and your past with him, the present he doesn’t want to let go of, and the future he demands. Your fiance had promised that he wouldn’t get to you, and that he was only trying to scare you. 

You had been expecting to see Silas at your wedding, but he wasn’t there—or at least you didn’t catch a glimpse of him. Maybe your husband was right? Maybe he was just trying to scare you?

The start of the honeymoon is set to be on the SS Anastasia, a proud liner with three yellow funnels, a solid superstructure and a great reputation. It is set to take the two of you to Spain, where you have decided to have the rest of your honeymoon, away from all eyes and to be with no one but each other. 

A steward welcomes you on board. You thank him and give him a smile. He lets you know that your luggage, which you left down at the terminal, will be delivered straight to your cabin, a suite in first class. Only the best for the newlywed couple.

“I’m so excited to see the room”, you admit as the two of you navigate the ship to find the mani staircase. 

“The agent said that it would be nice”, your husband replies and chuckles. “Now, if we only could find it …”

You laugh. It takes you nearly ten minutes to find the right door among mazes of identical white doors. The suite is divided into three rooms: a bedroom, a sitting room and a bathroom, all decorated with expensive materials and fashionable colors. Polished dark wood and electric lights. 

“This is so nice”, your husband smiles, letting his eyes wander around. “I think we’ll have a good time here.”

You hug him and he chuckles, hugging you back. 

“I can’t believe I married you”, he says. 

Me neither, you think. 

Your mind drifts back to Silas and you feel your heart sink down to your stomach. You won’t be able to relax until you know that the ship has left harbour. There’s a constant, heavy feeling in your chest that you can’t explain. But you tell yourself that it’s just that; a feeling. Nothing more than old worries that haven’t been able to come up to the surface before now. You squeeze the man tighter, sighing out. You’re going to be okay. You’re going to be safe. 

You have been promised a fantastic dinner, and the food delivers to your expectations. Everything is tasting like gold, served on a silverplatter. Sitting in the first class dining hall has given you an excuse to dress up. Everyone around is wearing their best clothes, and it is a silent competition in who looks the best. You look around, discreetly admiring everyone else’s attention to detail. You wonder how many of them have spent the entire day in their cabin, doing everything to look their absolutely best. The first night is usually relaxed, but a first time impression will always be remembered. 

“What would you like to do after?” your husband asks and sips on his wine. 

“I think I need to take a walk”, you joke. 

“Oh, yes, the night sky must be so beautiful out on deck. I reckon that you’ll be able to see the stars much easier out here. No city pollution.”

You walk hand in hand down the promenade, looking up at the starry night sky, pointing at familiar shapes. 

The next morning, after breakfast, the two of you walk to the lounge, deciding to take a calm day. Well deserved after planning a wedding and executing it. The lounge is cozy, reminding you of a simple living room rather than a first class room on an oceanliner. Maybe to make the passengers feel more at home.

Your husband takes the opportunity to indulge in a newspaper, finally having the time to sit down and actually read it.

You let your eyes wander around the large lounge, enjoying to admire the small details that give the room it’s cozy feel. But the feeling is quickly switched once your eyes land on someone. A man sitting in an armchair on the other side of the lounge, dark eyes feasted onto you, a small smirk playing at his lips when he notices you noticing him. You can feel your body go numb, feel yourself sink through your armchair, through the floor and through the ship’s metal. Feel yourself sink down to the bottom of the pitch black ocean. You forget how to breathe, head going blank. 

He found you.

You glance towards your husband who’s still invested in today’s news. Silas raises his eyebrows testingly as you look back at him, as if to say “yes, I’ve noticed him, you think he compares to me?”. 

Suddenly the air in the lounge seem to lose all oxygen. You need air, or else you will faint. 

“I-I have to get some fresh air”, you hear yourself mumble. 

“Are you okay?” your husband asks and looks up from his newspaper, eyes full of worry. 

“Yes—”

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“N-No, I’ll be fine, I’ll be back soon.”

You need to get away. 

You hurry out of the lounge and out onto the enclosed promenade. The fresh air hits your face harshly. You grab onto the wall to support yourself while trying to find a way to breathe that doesn’t feel like needles poking through your throat. 

“You thought I wouldn’t find you?” 

You feel your heart stop. Quickly, you spin around, seeing his face way too close to yours. He tilts it, almost mockingly. You back away, stumbling over your feet and hitting your shoulder against the wall. Silas corners you, stopping you from escaping. 

“What do you want?” you breathe out shakingly. 

“Didn’t you get my letters?” he asks. “Or did you simply not read them?”

“Leave me alone. I-I’m married now.”

He smirks, tilting his head back and putting his hands into the back pockets of his suit pants.

“Indeed, you are”, he says and sighs out. “But do you really think that’s real?”

“What do you mean?” you almost stutter. 

Silas meets your eyes. He’s smiling. 

“Don’t you think I could have taken you whenever I wanted?” he asks. “The only reason you were able to marry that boring son of a bitch is because I let you. But, in the end, you belong to me. Isn’t that right?”

You don’t answer. You turn your head away, look out over the endless sea, and feel your eyes fill with tears. He wipes your tears with his thumb and you push his hand away. 

“I don’t”, you say, wondering where you have gotten the sudden bravery from. “I don’t belong to you. I belong to him.”

You show him the ring on your finger. Silas clenches his jaw and grabs a hold of that hand, forcing it closer. He pulls of the golden ring, scoffs at it and throws it overboard. You gasp and try to run forward, hoping to catch it before it falls too far, but he pushes you back against the wall. 

“Don’t ever say that again”, he warns you. “You don’t belong to him, how could you? I met you first. I claimed you first. He will have my seconds. Everything you do to him, you’ve done to me first. And he will never do anything as good as I did.”

“I left you because of this!” you hiss, reminding him. 

“No, you left me because you were scared. You don’t understand that you are in more danger if you aren’t with me. I’m the only one that can protect you. I didn’t want you to know about it because I know you’d be scared, but—”, he cups your cheeks, forcing you to look at him, “—but I won’t hurt you. You’re so special to me. I love you so much. You did read my letters, I can see it in your eyes. You know how much I love you.”

“Let me go”, you plead. 

“No. It’s you and I til the end, don’t you remember? I’m not letting you go again. I’ve been letting you have your fun for too long now. It’s about time I take you back. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Don’t hurt him either.”

You can see his eyes darken, his jaw clench. “You decide if it’s going to be violent or not.”

You freeze in his hold. 

“You can choose to come back to me, quietly and easy”, Silas starts and caresses your cheek. “We will be happy and your boy will be left alone.” He traces your jaw with his finger. “Or … you reject me and I take out my competition and take you with me once we reach Spain. No one will see you again.”

He seems to tell that you’ve stopped breathing, because he sits you down on one of the sun chairs and massage your throat. Your eyes are stuck onto nothing, empty. 

“I will give you until nine”, he whispers in your ear. “If you’re not outside my cabin at nine, A-30, knocking on my door, I will kill him.”

“You’re a liar”, you breathe out, voice barely audible. “You’ll kill him either way …”

Silas shrugs simply. “Maybe, but don’t you want to take your chances? You might save him.”

Silas stands up. You sit frozen. 

“Oh, and Y/N?” he says as if remembering something and looks down at you. “If I were you I wouldn’t tell anyone. You know, for obvious reasons.” 

He gives you a small, teasing smile before walking back inside. You sit still, not daring to move. Worried that if you move you’ll break down and realise what’s going on. You can feel your heart pound in your ears. No. No, this can’t be happening.

“What are you doing out here?” you hear a familiar voice ask. “You’re going to get sick!”

You feel your husband hang his blazer over your shoulders. The warmth, the familiar scent from him makes your heart hang heavy in your chest. You can’t help but feel like you’ve betrayed him, as if you’ve cheated your relationship, thanks to Silas’s threat. But if you cheat on it, you might save the love of your life. Can you cancel out a bad thing with a bad thing? Is it really a bad thing then? Can you be excused? 

You can’t tell him about it, but if you did, would he understand you?

“You don’t look well, actually”, he says and helps you stand. “You’ve probably already gotten sick. You should go lay down and rest.”

He helps you, slow and steady, to your suite. You lay down in bed and he tucks you in. 

“Should we ring for a steward?” he asks worriedly. “Ask for some tea and some medicine?”

“No, I’m fine”, you reassure him dimly. “I just need to be alone.”

“I’m worried about you. Something happened to you. I can help you.”

No, you can’t.

“Do you want to be left alone?” he asks. 

What if he gets killed?

“No, stay in here”, you wish. 

He nods. You hold his hand as you lay with your eyes closed, trying to think of what to do. He was clear; whatever you do, you’ll end up with Silas. The only thing you can choose—maybe—is to save the man holding your hand and whispering reassurance to you. The nicest you can do, in this situation, is to give in and beg Silas to leave him alone. You can’t be prideful and let him kill him. 

You find yourself outside cabin A-30 with your head spinning. You don’t want to do this, but what choice do you have? Your first is heavy when you lift it to knock, the sound of your knuckles hitting the polished wood seeming to echo throughout the entire ship. You can hear his footsteps on the other side and see him tower over you when he opens the door. His smirk sends a wave of nausea over you. 

“So, you came in the end”, he says cockily. “Good girl/boy.”

You lower your eyes to the floor. Silas steps aside and gestures for you to walk in. You do, on heavy, unresponsive legs. He closes the door behind you, locking it. You gulp. He lingers around you like a snake and you wait for him to put his fangs into your neck and shoot his venom into you. 

“You should rest”, Silas says softly and wraps his arms around you from behind, resting his chin on your shoulder. “Let’s go to sleep.”

He leads you to the bed and lays you down, lying down behind you. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t do anything that could scare you. You try to keep it in, but your body fails you. Sobs, quiet at first, leave your body. Tears run down your face. You hold your hand over your mouth, but Silas is close enough to hear you. He hugs you carefully and you can feel him rest his face into your shoulder. 

“There’s no need to worry”, he whispers. “You're back where you belong.”

It only makes you worry more.

“Your crying makes me so sad”, Silas whispers. “Everything will be okay, little thing. You're back now.”

You don't fall asleep that night, and you're sure Silas doesn't either. His grip on you remains tight and controlling, showing no sign of drowsiness.

The sun rises outside the porthole, and you're as wide awake as ever. Silas gets out of bed and starts to dress for the day. You remain in bed, feeling too empty to move. Your eyes fall onto the tattoos on his back and arms, wondering where he got them and what they represented. But something in you tells you that you don’t want to know.

“My darling”, Silas sighs and crouches down in front of the bed, caressing your face. “You don’t need to look so sad. You and me will have fun. We can do more than you ever could with that boy of yours could. My credit card never declines.”

“What are you talking about?” you ask, frowning. 

“Oh? You didn't know?” His cocky face is getting on your nerves. “My men did some digging into him, and it seems like he spent a fortune on this honeymoon of yours. Barely anything left in his bank account. Poor thing was really trying to impress you, but the illusion would be all gone once you came back home. I, on the other hand, have all the money in the world.”

“Your money’s dirty.”

“Money’s money. I could launder it, and it’d be clean, but you wouldn’t accept it anyway. Which is why you’ll never get money from me. You’ll get jewelry, food, clothes—anything you want—and all you need to do in return is submit yourself to me.”

You sigh and look away. 

“We don’t have to talk about this now”, Silas says and stands up. “But you will submit to me, I know you will. Get dressed now, my love, we’re going to eat breakfast.”

Food is the last thing you want right now. 

“I’m not hungry”, you say. 

“Do you want to stay in?” he asks. “I can go get you breakfast that you can eat later.”

You nod, whatever will make him leave you alone for a while. Silas gives you a comforting smile and pets your head before leaving the cabin. You take the time to cry, when you know that he can’t see you, planning to stop before he returns, but failing. 

“Crying when you think I won’t notice?” he asks and scoffs, just a little bit amused. “Do you think I wouldn’t notice?”

He sets down a tray on the table in the room and walks over to the bed, crouching down and wiping your tears. 

“You’re mine”, he says. “Crying about that boy won’t change that fact.”

You don’t answer.

“Will I have to stay in here the entire time?” you ask coldly.

“No”, he says. “Not all the time, but if you want to leave the cabin, you will be by my side. If I were you, I wouldn't try to run away from me or try to tell anyone, because the ship is filled with my men. You don’t know who they are, and they won’t bother you if you behave, but the second I tell them to keep an eye out for you, they will.”

You glare at him.

“But you wouldn’t do that, would you?” Silas asks. 

“And then what?” you counter. “When we're in Spain?”

“Oh, we're not staying there. I'm not allowed there. My second in command is waiting for us there and will take us back to America as soon as we arrive.”

Oh …

“I don’t want to go back. Not with you.”

“Well, life's not fair, little thing. You should eat now. I got you all the things you told me that you liked.”

He takes you to the table in the cabin and starts to feed you the bread, the coffee and fruit. You eat, just you comply, too tired to fight with him. Fighting with a wall would be easier. A wall wouldn't talk back. A wall wouldn't threaten you.

“See how much easier it is when you obey?” Silas says.

You give him a quick gaze. He traces your cheek with his fingers. 

“I look so much forward to having you all to myself”, he mumbled. 

His words send icy shivers down your back. 

You stay in the cabin the coming day. You wonder what your real husband is thinking of your disappearance. Sure that Silas has already done something to make him stay away … or worse.

“You're so down, baby”, Silas says. “How about we do something, hm? We have a whole ship to our amusement. There is a game room, a pool, a library, and a squash court. How about that? Why don't we play some squash?”

You nod, just to get out of the cabin. Maybe you can figure something out. Maybe you can hide.

“That's my boy/girl”, Silas says and takes your hand. “Let's go.”

Walking out with him, hand in hand, made you feel horrible. He looked so proud, so cocky. 

He took you down to the squash court. He picked up a racquet and bounced a few balls. 

“I hope you know the rules”, Silas said with a chuckle. “Or else I will win.”

A man came into the squash court. Silas gave the man a quick, stern look before glancing towards you, and then back at him. This is one of his men, you figure. 

“Give me a second, darling”, he says and takes the man aside. 

They turn their backs to you, whispering. You glance towards the door. As they mumble about something incoherent, you sneak towards the door, opening it silently and sneaking out. You run, but only get a few meters before a hand rips you back. 

“Where do you think you're going?” Silas hisses in your ear.

He slams a hand over your mouth to prevent you from making any sounds and almost you back to the squash court. 

“I apologize”, he mutters to his man. “Seems like my baby here can't behave.”

He holds your back firmly against his chest, hand resting securely over your mouth. “They'll learn soon enough, once they learn the consequences.”

You fight against him, but he doesn't budge.

“Stop fighting”, Silas hisses and turns to his man. “I'm sure it won't happen again, ill make sure it won't, but can you tell the others to keep an eye out for this disobedient little shit? If you ever see them wander around alone, you get me immediately. Leave us now, I need to lecture them.”

The man nods, bows slightly and leaves the squash court. Silas lets you go and you back away from him, but he's quick to corner you.

“You don't get it, do you?” he asks, and sounds a tad bit amused. “You can't escape me. And, come on, trying to do that on a ship? I really thought you were smarter than that. Where would you go? The only place you could flee would be to jump overboard. But you're stupid, not suicidal. And now, all my men keep an eye out. Just accept that your place is here, with me.”

“I want my fucking husband!” you scream. “You aren't my husband, you're a low life criminal!”

Silas’s eyes darken.

“Okay then”, he says, slowly. “If you want him so badly, go look for him. Go find him. If you do, I'll let you go with him. If not, you're mine.”

“Your men will take me back to you.”

“I'll tell them to leave you as long as you don't talk to anyone. Search everywhere. Go to the lower classes, for all I care.”

“What have you done to him?”

He smiles slightly, but it's not one out of genuine happiness, but of mockery. “Do you really want to know?”

You turn around and leave. He follows you. You barely have time to walk down the corridor before a man takes a hold of your arm. A different man from before.

“You're not supposed to walk around”, he says.

“It's okay”, Silas says a few steps behind you.

He wears his chin high, a smirk on his face and his hands in his front pockets. You rip your arm from the strange man's hold.

“My baby is using their brain”, Silas says and reaches the two of you. “We'll see where that gets them. Keep an eye so that they don't talk to anyone. We don't want to encourage talking to strangers, now do we, little thing?”

You glare at him.

“Go, then”, Silas says. “What are you waiting for?”

You don't like how he's changed. Just five minutes earlier he was set on making sure you wouldn't wander … and now he encourages it. Something has happened to your husband and you want to find him as quickly as possible.

You walk away, leaving Silas and his man in the corridor outside the squash court. You're not sure where to start. As soon as you get out of their sight, you stop and sink down alongside the wall. Needing to just catch your breath.

But you don't linger too long. Before you change your mind, you stand up and start to walk. You end up walking back and forth for hours, sure that every eye that lands on you is a member of Silas’s organization, someone being paid to make sure you obey.

You search every little corner on the ship, but your husband is nowhere to be seen. Your suite is empty, but there are signs of struggle. A glass lying on the floor, more than one person's shoe marks on the carpet. You walk over to his suitcase and take out one of his shirts. Crying as you hold it.

“Any luck?” you suddenly hear him say.

Your blurry eyes dart to the open door, seeing him lean against the frame with his arms crossed over his chest. He looks so nonchalant, so careless. How can he?

“There are words for people like you”, you sniffle with a voice draped in hate. “Did you know that?”

“What word?”

“Inhuman.”

Silas scoffs out a small smile. “If only you were as smart with thinking as you were with words, you’d have figured it out by now.”

“What?”

“You haven’t found him anywhere on the ship, and you’ve been looking for hours.”

He doesn’t have to remind you. Your aching feet is enough to make you feel your loss.

“What did you do to him?” you ask weakly.

“I have already told you, if you listened to me, you’d figured it out earlier. I said that there is only one way to escape me.”

Your eyes widen as you dart your eyes to the round porthole. 

“Atta girl/boy”, Silas says, voice smooth as honey as he walks over to you.

“Y-You … y-you …”

“Don’t look at me. I didn’t do it.”

“You ordered it.”

“Are we back to the ‘dirty money’ thing again? Does it matter if I gave the instructions or not? It happened, and even if I said I gave the instructions, you wouldn’t take it.”

You hang your head heavy in your hands, crying. Silas hugs you and you try to fight back, but he doesn’t let you go. He holds you tightly, his rough hands keeping you against his body. 

“Now that he’s gone, you have no other choice than to accept me whole heartedly”, he whispers in your ear. “You have no one else. Only me. Until the end of time, til death do us part.”

You sob in his hold, wanting nothing more than to escape. You manage to glance towards the porthole. 

Silas holds your hand in a tight, painful grip as you walk off the ship, surrounded by a few of his men. People on the dock cheer and welcome their loved ones, but you’re pulled right through the crowd. You can’t hear any of them, your own sorrow drowning out all sounds of happiness. Silas takes you over to a car. A black haired man leans against it, but stands straight when he sees Silas. His second in command. 

“Boss, there you are”, he says with a small smile. “Did you have a good voyage?”

Silas lifts your tightly intertwined hands with a smirk on his face. “What do you think?”

The second in command looks at you up and down and smirks. “Congratulations.”

“I wish we could stay here but if the cops get me I’ll be in trouble”, Silas says and pulls you close. “Let’s go to the yacht before we’re noticed.”

He helps you into the automobile and you’re off, on the way to the ship that will take you back to America. Tears run down your face silently. You shut them, trying to imagine yourself in another place, somewhere far away from Silas and his evil entourage. Somewhere where you had never crossed paths with him. Somewhere where things had turned out different. A bump in the road forces your eyes open again and you’re pulled back into the car that will take you straight to your own personalized hell, with a man who is ready to kill for you. You wish you had never allowed him to carry your groceries. 

[un-fwuit-un-fwog]

First Choice

Synopsis: The Prefect has to choose a dorm to move into, and they immediately think of Leona.

TW: it's relatively vague, but it's mentioned that The Prefect was uncomfortable with the thought of staying in other dorms for reasons you would imagine a woman wouldn't want to stay in a space with all men (specifically, she's overheard jokes, and noticed looks that made her uncomfortable (I try to keep it vague though))

Fem! Reader x Leona

You sat in Crowley's office with your arms crossed and a tired expression on your face. You had walked back to Ramshackle after another long day of classes and mayhem just to find the roof had caved in.

Crowley sat in silent contemplation as if he were actually mulling over the issue like someone who actually cared before snapping his fingers with a triumphant smile on his face: "Because I am so kind, I shall allow you the opportunity to choose one of the 7 dorms to move into!"

Your face remained blank. It's not that you disliked the idea of being able to sleep in a building that you didn't have to worry about leaks, mold, collapses, and cave ins, but you weren't too fond of the idea of having to live with a bunch of men.

You mulled over your options for a moment before sighing and pulling out your phone. Crowley looked at you quizzically. "I wanna make sure it's okay with him first" you mumble under your breath.

Moments later, you get a text from Leona: "Whatever."

You figured that would be as close to a yes as you could get, so you relayed the information to Crowley.

Just then, another buzz of your phone came: "Don't bring the d*mn cat."

Well, that complicated things. You weren't too fond of the idea of leaving Grim behind. Crowley, on the other hand, thought it was a glorious idea. He'd send Grim off to Heartslabyul (without consulting with Riddle first, of course). Surely, some time in the strictest dorm would do the little critter some good.

Before either of you could protest, he was already out the door holding grim by the collar.

When you arrived at Savanaclaw, it was already late. Ruggie greeted you with a snicker and tossed you a basket of laundry to bring up to Leona's room.

"Can't have ya freeloading" was the hyena's excuse.

"Delivery." A yawn slipped from your mouth as you dropped the basket of laundry just inside the door.

A rustling came from the bed before moments later a grumpy lion finally lifted his head to look at you. "The h*ll are you doing here?"

". . .You said I could stay, remember?"

Leona's tail flicks back and forth a few times before he flops back down. "Was half expecting ya to choose a different dorm instead."

With a hum, you closed his door and picked the basket back up to set it next to his closet. "Now, why would I do that?"

You heard a scoff come from Leona "In case ya haven't noticed, Savanaclaw isn't exactly a prissy little proper dorm with a-"

You cut your upper classman off by throwing a pillow at his face.

"Oops, my hand slipped" you hum as you set the laundry basket down again.

Leona growls, but he doesn't move. If anyone else were to throw a pillow at him, he'd likely rip their throat out, but with you, he didn't have that compulsion. "The h*ll was that for?"

"Is that really what you think I'd be looking for in a dorm I'll have to move into?" As you speak, you casually sit on the edge of his bed so you can meet his eyes and give him a 'really?' look.

"Yes." His response is blunt and to the point.

A sigh slips from your lips as you stand up "Seriously?"

"Well what else would you be looking for?" He scoffs with a roll of his eyes "And which of those criteria would you find in this dorm?"

"You're here." You reply without having to think and as if the answer is obvious.

In response, Leona just stares at you disbelievingly.

"I'm serious. The moment Crowley said I had to move into a dorm, this was the first one I thought of, and because of you."

He remains silent, his expression only becoming more skeptical. Don't get him wrong, when you said he was your first thought, your first choice, it made something tighten in his chest. However, anyone can lie, and your current sentiment sounds completely improbable to him.

Another exasperated sigh leaves your mouth before you motion for him to scoot over.

Surprisingly, he complies and gives you space to sit crisscross next to him. "I'm the only girl in this school."

"Obviously." You give him a quick warning glare at his snarky comment, and he raises his hands.

"As I was saying, I'm the only girl in this school. I'm not saying I particularly distrust the other students here, but that doesn't change the fact that I constantly find myself in settings here that make me feel unsafe."

Leona's once swishing tail stills, but his expression remains neutral.

"Sure, I have friends in other dorms, but, for one reason or another, I never feel fully at ease in those spaces."

"And you do here?"

"Yes."

The room falls silent for a moment before you continue: "I can't fully explain it, but. . .I said that the reason I chose to come to Savanaclaw was because you're here. That matters because. . .I feel safe around you."

Leona scoffs before he can stop himself. "I tried to kill you."

"Yes, but I've never worried that you'd do worse."

Leona's eyes widen a fraction at the statement. He debates asking for a moment, but eventually decides to: "And you have about others?"

Silence falls once more, but this time it feels much heavier.

"Some of it is just a lack of knowing,. . .but sometimes I hear people make unsavory jokes. . .and sometimes I catch a glint in people's eyes that I'm not sure I want to know the thoughts behind."

Before the atmosphere can get too awkward, you clap your hands together, "That or sometimes I just feel like people don't know how to treat me because I'm a girl." you add, trying to lighten the mood.

"But I've never felt that way with you. You respect my space and my boundaries but still treat me like a normal person."

Deciding it's probably best not to talk about the previous subject too much as you seem uncomfortable with it (not that he's going to forget it though), he follows along with the topic shift. "Nobody else in any other dorm does that?" he scoffs "It's the bare minimum, nothin' special." His words don't come off as being said in a way to subtly tell you to pick a different dorm to stay in, that he doesn't want you here, but rather as genuinely curious and with a barely noticeable undertone that way maybe. . .threatening?

"It's not that nobody else does. . .it's hard to explain. You not only treat me with respect, but by doing so, you encourage others around you to do the same. Last time I stayed here, you always seemed to be there to step in if anyone crossed any boundaries or said anything that made me uncomfortable. When I returned to your room looking even slightly uncomfortable, you'd notice and take me seriously when I had a concern instead of brushing it off."

Noticing you had just rambled off praise, you quickly add "And you're a dorm leader, so staying in your room would surely deter anyone from trying anything! Cause you're big and scary. . .haha."

Leona is eerily silent for a while before he huffs and lets a grin creep onto his face. "I didn't know you thought so highly of me, Herbivore."

You roll your eyes and lightly punch his arm, grateful for how he lightened the mood.

"Well, I could easily give the same praise to plenty of other people, some of whom are even dorm leaders." you scoff playfully. "I genuinely don't know why it's just you that makes me so comfortable."

"Maybe ya have a thing for me." the lion jokes.

Normally, you'd be put off by such a comment, but coming from Leona, you can tell it has nothing nasty or creepy behind it.

"As if!" You try your best to sound firm and to match his sarcasm, but a light blush creeps to your face.

Leona originally wasn't going to push the matter, but seeing your positive reaction, he continues, "Oh? I seem to recall you mentioning that I was your first choice though."

"You know I didn't mean it like that!" you hiss, irritated by the smirk on his face.

You move to get up, but before you do, Leona lightly stops you. "What are you-"

He cuts you off by resting his chin on your shoulder from behind and lifting his phone into the air. You catch on to what he's doing, and decide to just go along with it. . .but not without getting him back for a bit of his earlier teasing.

You lift one hand to cradle his cheek that isn't pressed against your neck and give your best smile. If Leona is phased by the action, he doesn't show it as he quickly clicks the picture and posts it on his virtually dead magicam account, making sure to tag the other dorm leaders in the post.

"You're a jerk" you sigh, watching him hit post.

You leave the room a bit later to take a shower in the bathroom attached to his room, and only then does he allow the faintest of blushes to creep onto his face.

Partially because of you holding his face, partially because of your praise, but mostly because of something you said much earlier.

He was your first thought. He was your first choice.

Leona was never first.

You had 7 dorms to choose from and you chose his arguably unappealing one where it was always humid and full of sweaty guys roughhousing.

It wasn't that you thought of the dorm first, you thought of him. He was your first choice. He is your first choice.

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[quantum1mmortality]

hihi! I saw your curly stuff, I love how you write him!! If it’s possible, nsfw headcanons for what turns him on? have a great day <3

Have I ever mentioned how much I love writing Curly? No? Well I am now. I love writing him. He's so awesome sauce, so boyfriend. My scrunkle

Tw/cw; lingerie, praise, mentions of masochism, accidentally almost wrote a one shot for the last one whoops lolololol, semi public sex IMPLIED

Not proofread

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1; Lingerie

You guys can't look at me and tell me this man wouldn't go BALLISTIC for a nice set of lingerie. He makes good money at his job, good enough to be able to buy multiple sets of high quality, lacy lingerie for you to wear for him; then make you do a fashion show for him when you get them. Curly definitely comes off as a thigh guy, so he'd pick out all the sets with garter belts, specifically so he can slip his fingers under the seam and let go to see all that thigh movement. It actually drives him wild. Those sets can be pretty expensive, so hopefully he gets a raise soon since he's tearing apart every set he gets you.

2; Praise

I know it's overdone to say a character gets turned on by being praised but idc. This man has a praise kink and I will DIE on that hill. For anyone else, a praise to him wouldn't matter. He hears them constantly in his line of work, so at this point it's just noise. But from you? You like something about him? Oh no, he's hard. You could compliment him on the most mundane of things, say his uniform looks good on him and he's thinking about that the entire time he's at work. By the time he gets home, he's in genuine pain at how turned on he's been ALL DAY and not being able to help himself. He could, but he'd rather you do it. He's quite the masochist.

3; Titles

Imagine this; you're the wife of a well respected captain at Pony Express, and you decide to be a good wife and bring your beloved husband lunch. How sweet! You go to his department and call out to him, "Captain, I've brought lunch for you~" you giggle, drawing out his title. He looks up from.. whatever he was doing only to find you, holding a lunch box with a smile. Okay stop imagining, it's headcanon time.

Obviously the first thing he's going to do is thank you for lunch, he was famished. But after that, it's all blurry. It's like being with you has unlocked a bunch of new experiences for him, he never thought being called his title, the title he earned, would turn him on so much. It's like hearing it come from you was completely different from anyone else saying it. You ended up staying his entire lunch break and talking to him, only for your words to fall on deaf ears. He could barely even focus on what he was eating, let alone what you were telling him. Eventually he just had to excuse himself from the conversation, leaving you alone as he attempted, ATTEMPTED to satisfy himself. After a while he just gave up and went back out to where you were, told you the situation, and asked for your help. He was practically begging you, what were you supposed to do? Leave him there? No, you're a good wife. Of course you'd help him, right?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/n; sometimes I forget I'm supposed to be writing hcs and accidentally lock in too much and go on little tangents. I'm suffering from success but it kind of fucks the vibe up ngl

[iamred-iamyellow]

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ Dancing in the Courthouse

♥ masterlist | request rules | part of my 1k event

♥ pairing: oscar piastri x fem!reader

♥ synopsis: In 2021 you and oscar decided to elope due to your unpredictable schedules. now that you have more stability in your life, you were able to throw a dream wedding with the man you loved most in the world.

♥ smau + written - as always none of the pictures are mine <3

♥ warnings: swearing !!!

♥ a/n: first fic apart of the 1k event!

-Paris, 2021-

The streets of Paris were bustling as you took a seat in your Uber. You could hear a Taylor Swift song playing faintly on the car's radio as you pulled out your phone.

You

hey osc I'm on my way back

Oscar checked the notification and panicked a little internally. He slipped the device back into his dress pants and shook his hands.

"Relax, tout ira bien," Estie assured Oscar. (translation: everything will be fine)

He sighed and turned towards the two French men, "Are you sure?"

All Pierre did was laugh.

"Call me when it's over," Pierre said with a smirk and guided Esteban out the door, into an elevator.

You were in France on a girls night out with your best friend Kika, whom you met through Formula 1. Little did the two of you know that Pierre and Esteban snuck over to your hotel room in order to help Oscar set up a surprise.

You tapped your keycard on your hotel door and called out your boyfriend's name. You set your purse down on a small marble table and kicked off your heels, making your way through the main room.

A small trail of pink rose petals guided you to the terrace causing your heartbeat to pick up.

Was this really happening?

You opened the glass doors to find more rose petals surrounding the floor and a very handsome Oscar. You strode over to him in complete shock until he grabbed your hands in his.

"Y/n you have been my best friend for as long as I can remember," he said as his thumb drew circles on one of your fingers. "You have stood by me since the beginning of my career and I could never imagine a life without you. I know we don't get to spend as much time together as we'd like to, but that is why I wanted to do this today."

He slowly got down on one knee in front of you and pulled out a black velvet box to reveal a silver ring.

"Will you marry me?"

You squatted down to his height and mumbled, "Is that even a question?"

You cupped his face in your hands and kissed him gently, "Yes of course I will."

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

-July 4, 2024-

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, lilymhe, and 300,572 more

ynln london girl

📸 creds: @/oscarpiastri

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user1 lmao the oscar picture creds

oscarpiastri I risked my life for that first pic

ynln @/oscarpiastri you were on another balcony?

user3 if anyone risked their life for that picture it's Alex

user2 speaking of alex she looks SO pretty there

carlossainz55 red nails for ferrari

ynln anything for you carlitos 😽

iamrebeccad so so true and real

user4 pretties

user9 lets all manifest an oscar win for this weekend

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

liked by oscarpiastri, nicolepiastri, hattiepiastri, and 1,481,583 more

ynpiastri oops I guess the cat is out of the bag huh! the rumors are in fact true, oscar and I are married. we have been trying to keep it a secret since our elope in 2021, but it seems as though I slipped up with a photo on my insta. at least it was the perfect timing for the reception we're throwing this summer 🥰

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nicolepiastri see you at the sequel wedding!!

ynpiastri <3

user1 ...sorry?

user8 PARDON

user12 THEY'RE ACTUALLY MARRIED

user2 POOKIE YOU CANT JUST POST A SHIRTLESS OSCAR LIKE THAT

user7 her username change I am so endeared

mclaren how many of you knew...

logansargeant I did

alexandrasaintmleux I did

charles_leclerc I did

landonorris I DIDNT?!?!

landonorris @/oscarpiastri how come charles knew before me

charles_leclerc @/landonorris he's my son???

iamrebeccad I'm so happy for you!

ynpiastri tysm becks 🥹🫶

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

liked by pierregasly, oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc, and 123,740 more

wagupdates the girlies pulling up to the belgian paddock

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user1 the color scheme 🛐

user2 PLS did they plan this for y/n’s wedding?

wagupdates @/user2 we think so!!

oscarpiastri I guess I need to step up my fashion game

charles_leclerc @/oscarpiastri I can help 😁

ynpiastri @/charles_leclerc no you cannot

user7 I love them

user4 they're GORGEOUS

francolapinto 😘

user8 ITS MR STEAL YOUR GIRL

user3 HAHAHA

user9 FRANCO Y/N IS MARRIED

charles_leclerc @/francocolapinto Te sugiero que elijas sabiamente tus próximas palabras (I suggest you choose your next words wisely)

francolapinto sorry sorry! its a joke its a joke 😅

user10 the threatening spanish 😭

carlossainz55 @/user10 I taught him that

fernandoalo_oficial @/carlossainz55 and I taught YOU that

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

liked by pierregasly, ynpiastri, carmenmundt, and 563,885 more

francisca.cgomes rich bitch energy

tagged; @/ynpiastri @/alexandrasaintmleux

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user1 are you shopping for dresses

francisca.cgomes mayybbe

ynpiastri GORGEOUS

francisca.cgomes NO YOU 😚

aussiegrit @/nicolepiastri do i get to walk oscar down the aisle

nicolepiastri no 😐

charles_leclerc that’s right because i am

user2 the family seating is gonna go crazy lol

user5 so what’s the dog situation?

landonorris bark

ynpiastri @/landonorris NO 😭

user5 I MEANT LEO AND ROSCOE 💀

ynpiastri @/user5 leo we know is definitely going to be there! 🥰

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

-Wedding Day-

liked by alex_albon, maxverstappen1, carlossainz55, and 1,749,053 more

ynpiastri 💍

tagged; @/francisca.cgomes

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danielricciardo 🥹

pierregasly vous êtes tous les deux magnifiques (you both look gorgeous)

user6 the fact that kika is her maid of honor

user7 IM NOT CRYING

user4 the venue is STUNNING

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

There was a salty ocean breeze on a cliff-side of Monaco, the place you and Oscar picked for the wedding.

There were dozens of familiar faces along with beautiful greenery and pastel flowers decorating the space.

You were sat at your table with your husband Oscar as the toast’s began to start.

“Hi,” someone said into the mic with a smile. “I’m Kika.”

There were a few soft laughs from the crowd. She pulled a piece of paper out of her gold-colored dress.

“When I found out you eloped without me that day in Paris my first thought was ‘fuck you’.” she said causing some more chuckles to come from the guests.

“It was only because I wouldn’t get the chance to give you the speech I had planned—but here we are today and I’m so glad I finally get to say it. Over these past couple years you have been my best friend, in and outside the paddock. I have so much love for you and I couldn’t be happier for your relationship with Oscar.”

You got up from your seat and hugged her, eliciting a few ‘aws’ from the room.

Lando stood up next with the mic, “Oscar was the guy on the grid no one could shut the up about,” Lando spoke into the mic and everyone laughed. “I didn’t get it at first, but then I met him, and I got it. And I felt the same when I met Y/n. You two are lucky to have each other. Congrats, mate.”

He raised his glass of champagne causing everyone to clink their glasses and cheer.

liked by lewishamilton, aussiegrit, nicolepiastri, and 1,937,954 more

ynpiastri wifey

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user1 this is so cunty

wagupdates we heard that y/n’s heel broke and oscar had to carry her to the car (hence the last picture) 😭

user7 she is SO pretty

patriciooward great to see you again osc!

user6 I. LOVE. THEM.

user2 omg they’re so hot

user3 y/n’s outfits today >>>

lilymhe the reception was beautiful

ynpiastri <3