#for even more expensive than the record stores

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

Aaah one of my local stores finally has TTPD available for preorder! It's finally happening!

unfortunately it's far more expensive than Taylor's store so I'm sticking with my original order but if they get any of the variants...

[brazilian-vampyra]

៹ ☆ MUSIC TO FUCK TO ! ꞌꞋ ࣪

(english)

⟡— synopsis: songs that jujutsu characters would listen to while having sex with you.

⟡— characters: nanami kento, gojo satoru, geto suguru, choso kamo, ryomen sukuna and toji fushiguro.

⟡— warnings: raw sex (please use condoms), rough sex, breeding kink, dacryphilia, oral, fingering, male dom, praising kink, hair pulling, degradation kink, alcohol use (only mentioned), size kink, fem!reader.

˛ 𓏲࣪ 𝗡𝗔𝗡𝗔𝗠𝗜 𝗞𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗢 𖹭︐

IT IS COMMON SENSE to agree that this man exudes elegance and luxury, in addition to having refined taste — despite his life as a salaryman.

Kento likes to enjoy quality time where he can relax and rest listening to something peaceful, real music for his discerning ears. So he bought a rustic record player in a vintage store that had opened downtown. With that, he could leave the music boxes and headphones aside, enjoying the various vinyls that were on the shelf in his living room.

He loves jazz and blues.

It was a peaceful Friday night, and his apartment was quiet, with the record player playing. You just had a few glasses of wine and enjoyed some cuddling on the black leather sofa. But every time you took a sip of the expensive wine, the contents seemed to go down your throat and straight to your legs.

It seems that your favorite blonde felt the same way, and it didn't take long for the innocent late-night caresses to evolve into heated, intimate touches.

Now you were in the bedroom. Your back was on the comfortable mattress and your hands gripped the silk sheets as your boyfriend held your legs on his shoulders. He held on tight, moving his hips against you. Your clothes were scattered around the house and you were completely surrendered to the heat, feeling it hit your core perfectly.

Nanami's hoarse moans were mixed with the sensual notes of "Sometimes I'm Right" by Hubert Sumlin.

The blonde held your legs, close to the knees, at the end of your thighs, keeping you still so he could be more precise with his hips. His beautiful eyes seemed to look into your soul, intoxicated by the growing desire that made your heart race. The dim orange light from the bedside lamp shone on his athletic body, giving you a perfect view of those muscles.

━━ B-Babe... please... stop torturing me... — you asked in a plea, for him to move his hips faster.

A hoarse, sarcastic soft laugh left his lips.

━━ Oh kitten, you have to stop being so hasty... — he placed a hot, sensual kiss on your ankle. ━━ You know me, you know I like to taste every little part of you...

This was an absolute truth. For him, it didn't matter if the sex was going to be slow and sensual or rough and fast. The most important thing was to be able to enjoy every last second with you in that intimate moment.

At a certain point he moved his hips a little further and then thrust in quickly, all at once. This time you cried out in pleasure.

━━ Always being a good girl, taking my cock so fucking well...

This blonde was madly in love with you.

[...]

˛ 𓏲࣪ 𝗚𝗢𝗝𝗢 𝗦𝗔𝗧𝗢𝗥𝗨 𖹭︐

WE CAN ALL AGREE that this man is one of the most promiscuous on Earth, right?

The strongest have a very strong sexual aura, and all women — even some men — wondered what it must be like to sleep with Satoru. That was a question you never wondered for long, as he had developed a notable interest in you.

He can make jokes all day long, he can take some situations in a more playful way and all that stuff, but when it comes to sex he is super serious. Although life seems simple for the strongest sorcerer in the world, he gets stressed about a lot of things on a daily basis, and there is no one who can help him relieve all of that as well as you can.

You've already fucked in many places, listening to the most varied artists, but in more intimate moments there is a specific artist that he likes to listen to more than the others: Two Feet.

Maybe it was because of the melodic tone, or the acidic guitar notes, or even his engaging voice, but Gojo loved listening to him.

Now you are in the bathroom, listening to "Love Is a Bitch".

Your back was against the tiled wall, and the ideal temperature hot water ran down your bodies, while your boyfriend held your thighs, getting support so he could thrust his hips slowly. You moaned against each other's parted lips, and he sucked your lower lip shamelessly. The steam from the hot water filled the room, along with your moans and the sounds of this sensual melody.

Although the sex wasn't rough this time, it was slow and deep. He could make your mind go wild by moving his hips like that.

━━ Hell yeah, babe... that feels so fucking good...

He groaned in your ear, hiding his face in the crook of your neck as he slid his hands down to your ass and squeezed.

━━ I can't get enough of you- ugh! S-Satoru... please...

Hearing this he bit the sensitive skin on your neck, making you whimper louder. He felt the soft taste of the chamomile soap that he had rubbed over your body with a soft sponge a few minutes ago.

You didn't let this go unpunished and brought a hand to the back of his neck, grabbing the wet white strands, pulling a little, making those piercing blue eyes look into your irises. A mischievous smile was plastered on his lips.

━━ You'll be the death of me someday...

The sorcerer wasn't lying every time he said you were his strongest weakness.

[...]

˛ 𓏲࣪ 𝗚𝗘𝗧𝗢 𝗦𝗨𝗚𝗨𝗥𝗨 𖹭︐

THIS MAN IS much more reclusive when it comes to his particularities. But you noticed that he was almost always smoking around, while wearing his headphones and having black strands of hair thrown across his face.

Maybe it was hard to tell what he liked to hear, he was so quiet. His voice was soft, he wasn't as "scandalous" as Gojo Satoru, Geto was always a guy who had his own vibe. However, he really liked listening to rock, especially alternative and indie.

You started getting closer when he saw you in the park, it was summer and you were under his favorite tree, reading a book you had gotten from the library and listening to some music on your headphones. He had no problem "sharing" his favorite space with someone else.

There was the beginning of your friendship with that beautiful boy with siren eyes. And it didn't take long for this friendship to evolve into a beautiful relationship — thanks to a little help from Satoru.

It was now a rainy afternoon in the city, not as cold as it seemed. You were lying on his bed, your panties were probably on top of some random pillow and he had his head buried between your legs. Drops of rain wet the window glass and you saw the wind ruffle the leaves of the trees, but you couldn't pay much attention while he was eating you out.

There was something very addictive about your pussy, something that not even he could say what it was, but he was on his knees for it. Literally.

"Knee Socks" by the band Arctic Monkeys was playing.

You were wearing one of Geto's shirts, which had the fabric pulled up, exposing your stomach and breasts. White socks that reached just above your knee covered your legs, which were draped over his shoulders.

━━ Uhmm... this pussy is so fucking delicious, darling — he groaned against your body, while his skillful tongue worked on you.

Suguru's soft lips also moved in sync, making you want to close your legs. You pressed your thighs against his head and you could feel him smile against your sensitive skin. Immediately those big cold ringed hands of his went to the sides of your thighs, squeezing a little and holding them open so he could rub his face there.

━━ S-Suguru! Yes, babe! Yes!

You screamed slyly, taking a hand to his soft, long black hair, squeezing and pulling a little. He really liked that and would never deny it.

━━ Like this?

He asked, in a hushed tone of voice, as you felt him slide two fingers on your wet sex and penetrate, sliding easily, curved slightly upwards to reach a spot that made you scream. He used his mouth again, but this time on your clit as the rhythmic chords of the music played, mixing with your needy moans, his muffled moans and the erotic, wet sounds.

This man is your deepest desire.

[...]

˛ 𓏲࣪ 𝗧𝗢𝗝𝗜 𝗙𝗨𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗚𝗨𝗥𝗢 𖹭︐

THIS HELL OF A MAN is a walking question mark. He really was a big unknown, but unfortunately — or luckily — for him, you loved solving puzzles.

Toji wasn't the most "difficult" person you had ever met, but he was certainly the most reserved. He didn't talk about the past, about life, he didn't express his feelings, he didn't share personal tastes and there was no way he would spit out the secrets he carried behind his frown. But, despite everything, that wall of muscles could talk about some things that wouldn't expose his particularities so much.

For example, you once brought up a topic about musical taste, a very vague and silly subject, but it was the starting point for you to approach him. Yes, it was much more varied and had much more culture than you expected.

It was perfectly eclectic.

He really liked listening to music when he was fucking too. You were in his room, with the neon light on, not too strong and not too weak, illuminating the room and your features in a shade of blue mixed with purple. The soft bed's sheets were a little wet due to the obscene and intimate acts being performed on top.

You were on all fours, your palms and knees serving as support so you were comfortable. It was playing "Hotel" by Montell Fish.

Toji was right behind you, with that beautiful physique exposed and illuminated by the neon light, that made everything more arousing. He thrust his hips roughly against your ass, and this caused the erotic sound of your bodies to echo throughout the room. His big, strong hands were holding your waist tightly; maybe it would leave some marks.

━━ Now that's a pussy... hmm... so fuckin' tight around my cock, am I too big for your poor little hole to handle, my angel?

He practically growled, followed by a rude laugh, in a bitter tone.

━━ I-I can handle! — you replied, in a desperate tone, lowering your head a little.

Immediately Fushiguro took one hand from your waist and reached for your hair, holding it in a sloppy way. This caused you to whimper and look at the huge mirror there.

━━ No, no. Don't look away... keep watching the way I ruin you!

You would be completely destroyed afterwards, but it would be so worth it, just like it was every time before.

[...]

˛ 𓏲࣪ 𝗖𝗛𝗢𝗦𝗢 𝗞𝗔𝗠𝗢 𖹭︐

HAVING A SHY BOYFRIEND could be difficult for other people, but it wasn't so much for you. It's okay when you approached him you didn't have much to talk about, since he didn't do "mundane" things like everyone else did.

Curses generally didn't listen to music or watch cartoons and go to parties, as is normal to see human beings doing. He was also very inexperienced in several aspects, because despite having centuries of years, he didn't do much and didn't interact with people in general.

But he had no problem learning from you.

You introduced Choso to music little by little, first you started by showing him what you liked and then you started introducing him to what he might like. This worked out really well, as little by little he began to accept this as something natural and listened to music more frequently.

Kamo discovered that he really likes rock and metal, and is now willing to learn how to play the guitar. Maybe that's a topic for another time, the most important thing is what you were doing at that moment.

The song "Please Please Please Let Me Get What I Want" was playing, it was originally by The Smiths, but the version that flooded the room was by Deftones. He had put together a playlist full of songs with this theme that walked a fine line between being horny or going into depression.

You were riding him in reverse cowgirl. The elastics that held Choso's hair had come loose a long time ago and now he had his black hair loose, framing his face. He was panting and begging beneath you, his hands on your hips, squeezing your ass a little, watching as you moved it up and down at a slow yet very satisfying pace.

Since he was still a bit inexperienced, he had no problem letting you be in charge most of the time. And you loved having the honor of being on top of that beautiful and arousing man. You could hear the sound of your bodies along with your boyfriend's moans and the whimpers of the Deftones singer, as well as the distorted guitar riffs.

Without any prior warning, you began to move your body faster.

━━ F-Fuck, my love! If you keep this up I'm gonna cum inside of you! — he whimpered as you felt his cock twitch against your walls.

━━ But that's exactly what I want, silly.

You looked back with a wicked smile on your lips, seeing his pale cheeks completely flushed and his strong chest going up and down as he tried to catch his breath.

[...]

˛ 𓏲࣪ 𝗥𝗬𝗢𝗠𝗘𝗡 𝗦𝗨𝗞𝗨𝗡𝗔 𖹭︐

THE GREAT KING OF CURSES was an ambitious man, who desired greatness and power at all times. He did not accept anything that was different from the standard he was used to receiving as a powerful and feared entity.

He was not at all monogamous, he was used to having several women in what would have been a harem. He was insatiable, a ferocious beast who depended on sex as one of his main sources of fuel. However, now Sukuna had to get used to the modern world, whether he wanted to or not.

Curses were no longer respected or feared, as sorcerers were on hand to fight them. By the irony of fate, you ended up crossing paths and since that day there was no concubine to feed his desires, he only wanted you. Despite the countless declarations of love coming from him and all his talk, you weren't easy.

You didn't sleep easily with anyone, even more if this person was him.

But he was a trickster, he wasn't the king of curses for nothing. He approached you with that soft talk and that naughty way until you were finally able to create a bond. But flirting with people in the modern era was a bit tricky for a man who had been away for many, many years.

You introduced music to Sukuna, and over time he became more fond of it. He really liked rock and classical music, they were two different extremes, but who were you to question the taste of the king of curses?

Although when he was fucking you he wouldn't listen to Mozart or anything like that.

You were in his castle, in a room filled with the most diverse and luxurious tapestries. There were extremely comfortable cushions and silk sheets everywhere, as well as treasures, pillars and chests. Sukuna was on top of you, his naked body full of symbols a little sweaty and his gaze devouring you.

Your legs were comfortably crossed around his hips, while those strong hands with purple nails grabbed your wrists and pinned them high above your head, leaving you immobilized. He had a rough pace and really loved every little inch of you, every time.

The song "One Of The Girls" by The Weeknd was playing. That song had a very strong sexual atmosphere, and that made him even more likely to fuck you.

You felt some of his pub hair touching your skin every time he moved back and forth with his hips. He was thrusting deep inside you, making you tear up from so much pleasure you were receiving. That was a the best thing in the world for that sadist who found it adorable to see the salty tears running down your hot cheeks as you begged for relief.

He knew he wasn't hurting you — because if you indicated he would stop instantly. You changed Sukuna a lot, took away from him that kingly immediacy that he possessed, and above all consent was sexy as hell.

━━ Baby... I-I don't know if I can cum any more... — you cried out, because he had already made you cum several times today, you didn’t know if your body could take any more.

━━ Aww, are you so sensitive that you are crying, my princess? — a sadistic smile was on his lips while those red eyes seemed to be darker from the lust flowing through his veins.

━━ Y-Yes...

━━ But you are a very obedient princess, and I know I can make you cum again. You don't need to control yourself and give it to me again. I'm only going to stop when this pussy is squirting all over my cock, understood?

He took one hand off your wrist and brought it to your face, squeezing your cheeks a little and making you nod. With your free hand, you pulled him closer to kiss him intensely, making your tongues touch each other in a bold way.

He had found his other half.

[...]

୭ 📂 𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄¹: this is my first time posting something in english on tumblr, and as it's not my first language i'd appreciate it if you could correct any grammar mistakes˚. ᵎᵎ

୭ 📂 𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄²: all of this is created by me, i do not authorize adaptations or inspirations without credits˚. ᵎᵎ

XOXO, kisses that taste like blood o negative, see you next time little bats 💋

— brazilian-vampyra, 2024.

[prettieinpink]

BUDGETING + SAVING MONEY FOR TEENS 𐙚

For many of us, we are entering an age when we can work casual jobs such as retail or fast food. It’s not a lot of money that we receive, depending on how often you get paid, but it can go a long way in the long term. 

In this post, I’ll be discussing how to budget for your needs/wants and save money for future goals. 

CREATING GOALS, you may want to save a certain amount of money in a time frame, want to make a big purchase (like a car) or buy everything off your wishlist. It is entirely up to you what your goals are, so I can’t say too much. However, the more specific it is, the better.

HOW MUCH? Determine how much money you need to save to achieve your goal. In total, and monthly. 

There are three types of saving goals that may apply to you;

Short-term goals >1 year (outings, latest gadget, buying your cart)

Medium-term goals 1-2 years (road trips, shopping spree)

Long-term goals 2-4 years (higher education, car)

It’s very important to set a realistic time frame, as teens we don’t get paid much and we also don’t work as much. You don’t want to overwhelm yourself as well, as it takes patience and self-control to achieve these goals.

NO LOOONG-TERM GOALS! This may sound aggressive, but any money that just sits in your account for years on end is dead money. Even though the amount of money is increasing, its value is slowly decreasing. Keep your goals achievable within a time frame of less than four years. It's much more useful if this money is put into some type of investment instead. 

CREATING A BUDGET

Calculate how much money you receive every month, and how much money you spend every month. 

You have two types of expenses. Fixed and variable. Fixed are any expenses required in your day-to-day life or it’s an amount of money that doesn’t change e.g. subscriptions or transportation costs. Variable costs are expenses that may fluctuate, like food, or any other recreational activities. 

Record the average you’re spending monthly with these two categories. 

There are many ways people choose to budget, but you have to choose a system that works for you.

Work out how much money you need to save each month to achieve your goal.

However, for anyone who’s starting in budgeting, I would say to allocate your costs using a percentage system. Your percentages for each category are going to differ from mine; e.g. 60% = savings, 20% = wants, 20% needs. Make sure it reflects the end goal. 

Track your progress. This is the major part of budgeting, you want to be recording and regularly reviewing how much money you’re spending and comparing it to how much you’re earning. It allows for space to reflect on the flow of your money like if some purchases are worth it, if you’re impulsively spending, or if you’re frequently withdrawing money from your savings. 

Adjust if needed. Maybe you want to put more money in savings and less into wants, or you want to put more into wants and less into needs. 

SAVING TIPS

SAY NO! This is probably my biggest struggle at the moment, but say no to things that will cause you to go off track. Whether its outings, getting fast-food or anything similar, say no. You have to be firm with your financial boundaries, as these opportunities will always arise again. 

RESTRICT IMPULSIVE SPENDING. We all have our moments when we see a product and we instantly think ‘I’ve got to have this’. Giving in once or twice is okay, but it shouldn’t become a habit at all. Its unnecessary spending (most of the time!) and leads to buyers remorse. 

IS IT WORTH IT? Always remember to work out which products you’re getting the most value out of. 

PAYING FOR THE NAME, a lot of brands will cut down on quality to save a few dollars, so essentially the customer is only paying for the name of that brand. Just because a store is more expensive, doesn’t mean its better.

[guksfairy]

!bestfriend Jungkook that buys you snacks at the nearest convenience store when he knows you’re feeling under the weather because of course he does. He won’t even hesitate to grab every single snack in an aisle if it means turning your frown into a smile <3

!bestfriend Jungkook that walks to your apartment daily after practice no matter how late/early it is because he knows with even your presence he’ll be fully energized all over again

!bestfriend Jungkook that follows right behind you when your friends ask you to go to the club with them. They’re not even surprised when they spot you walking towards them with Jungkook to your right. He follows to keep you safe and sound. Or so he says.

!bestfriend Jungkook that watches your every move when his hyung walks into the studio to make sure your attention to Eunwoo isn’t more than he’d like. His love for Eunwoo is endearing and he’d do almost anything for his brother. Key word: almost. Jungkook doesn’t need to lose you to Eunwoo so when he walks in, greeting you as Jungkook is finishing up recording, Jungkook grabs all his items in record time along with your hand and guides the two of you out of the building and to your apartment.

!bestfriend Jungkook that doesn’t know how to react when you talk to him about your coworker that has had a crush on you since you first applied to the job. The feeling in his chest confused him in the sense that he doesn’t exactly know why it hurts when his name is brought up.

“Can we change the subject?”

“Oh sure is something wrong?” You ask with concern all over your face.

Shaking his head he replies, “No I just want to move on from this subject,”

You nod before cuddling back into him and resuming the movie you were both previously watching before you interrupted with your story.

!bestfriend Jungkook that doesn’t know he’s in love with you and that his feelings are reciprocated.

“You’re pretty,” he watched you walk out of the dressing room into the private room he booked a few weeks ago wearing a pink dress you've had your eye on for who knows how long.

Jungkook would have bought it for you had you not straight up threatened him to not speak to him for a week because the dress is expensive.

"...and you're a liar,"

"What? How am I lying?" he replies staring at your smile that was simply for him before it fades.

"I don't know if I like it anymore," you frown a bit looking in the mirror not really liking the way it wraps around your body.

"What do you mean? You look beautiful, Y/N," he replies staring at you through the mirror.

You stare back at him for a split second before shaking your head slightly and making your way back to the dressing room before a hand wraps around wrist.

"You look absolutely gorgeous and I will remind you of that every day if I have to," his hands are now on your shoulders and his face is closer than ever.

You stare at his eyes that you've admired every chance you get and his lips you always wanted to feel.

He begins to lean in closer to the point that you feel his warm breath when he exhales.

"Is there anything needed in here?" you hear before you back away staring at the floor.

Jungkook remains where he was with a smirk on his face before looking at the consultant.

"We'll take this dress. Just put it on my card," he says

"Absolutely I'll be back in a minute to pack it up for you," she smiles and pulls the curtain back to the way it was before. You hear her heels fade further and further away.

You clear your throat, "I'm going to change," you say walking back to the dressing room.

Jungkook smiled watching you walk away and realizing you completely did not notice he would be the one purchasing the dress for you.

I guess now he would just have to hope you would still speak to him.

[bookshelf-dust]

healing

billy hargrove x gn!reader

word count: 5,445

warnings: swearing, smoking, mentions of past trauma (starcourt), slight sexual innuendos??

a/n: hi! remember when i made you do a poll for my 1k celebration? and one bed with billy won? well this is that fic! i'm sorry it took so long to get here, but school was kicking the ever loving shit out of me. anyways, i really hope you like it. it's a little different than other fics i've written, but i think that's a good thing. just for context, this is post the end of season three, with billy and hopper being okay and jopper being in full swing. i think that's all i wanted to say. thanks again for 1k followers. that's still so wild to me. i love you. and billy loves you too <333

————

November 1985

“No.”

“What do you mean no? You just fought an interdimensional being, don’t you want a vacation?” 

Lucas wipes both hands down his face, flopping down on the arm of the couch beside where Max sits with El between her knees, tying off one of the two braids she’s trying to make. 

“Max, can you help me? Please?” Lucas has been arguing about this for fifteen minutes. 

She rolls her eyes, but looks up from her work nonetheless. “Billy.”

The man in question crosses his arms, locking eyes with the redhead. “Maxine.”

Max finishes Eleven’s braid and she hops up to join Will where he’s working on a puzzle. Joyce brought it home from work a few days ago, and it’s been spread out on a card table in the corner of the living room since then. Will couldn’t watch The Golden Girls with Joyce from the kitchen table. 

“Just come with us, Billy. We all know you hate it here. It’ll give you a chance to get away for a little while.”

Except that’s not totally the truth. He doesn’t hate it here. Not with you around. 

“There’s a pool.” Will looks up, a little shyly, from the puzzle, fingers flipping around a single piece. “At the place Robin found.” 

Billy nods, and it’s enough to make Will smile at the acknowledgment. 

It’d been Steve’s idea, after everything that happened in July. He thought everyone going on a trip together might be a good idea. Go a little ways out from home, calm down. 

You and Billy started going to school, though Billy is still working. He found a job at a record store across the street from Melvald’s that opened after the mall went to shit. It definitely wasn’t his first choice, but it works. And he’s slowly fixing up the Camaro. 

Steve had offered to pay for the repairs in full, considering he did most of the damage when he rammed the side of it, but Billy couldn’t handle that. So far Max has only convinced him to let Steve cover the really expensive parts. It hurts Billy more than he’d care to admit—having Steve Harrington give him money. 

But he can’t lie, going somewhere away from Hawkins, even just for a couple days, sounds really nice. It’s the group part that’s bothering him. He’s still not used to everyone wanting him to tag along, but apparently major trauma brings people together.

There’s the slamming of car doors, and footsteps running up the driveway before the door swings open, Robin bursting in with a stack of movies in her arms. She’s followed by Dustin and then Steve, bags and keys being tossed every which way. 

Billy doesn’t see you for a moment and starts to worry maybe you aren’t coming. He’s already supplying excuses for having to go home, but Steve left the door ajar, and after a moment, there you are. 

You look sleepy, footsteps the quietest of everyone else as you carefully push the Byers’ door shut behind you. He watches as you accept a hug from Eleven, overhears her ask, “how did your test go?” 

He’s happy to hear you tell her it went well. It’s only after you’ve looked at her and Will’s puzzle and snapped a few more corner pieces in that you make a beeline for the open spot on the couch beside Billy. 

When you’ve settled, your knee bumps against his. “Hey.”

He looks at you, a little grin playing at the corners of his mouth. His arms are still crossed, thumb playing with the pendant resting on his chest. A chest surprisingly covered by a sweater, though the sleeves are pushed up. 

“Hey. Glad your test is over?”

That sound of his voice makes you smile, and he’s never been so grateful for something, even if it’s just an expression. “Yeah.”

You glance down at the new tattoo on his arm, a dark colored snake wrapping around the skin covering his elbow. You run your thumb across the tail that flicks across his forearm, and Billy relaxes into your touch. 

“You have work today?”

Billy shakes his head. You’re glad he had the day off. And you’d tell him so if it weren’t for the sudden bombardment. 

Lucas is suddenly standing in front of you, having returned from the kitchen where you think he and Dustin may have been cleaning out Joyce’s fridge. 

“Holy shit, thank god you’re here. I need you to convince Billy to go on vacation.” 

You glance at Max, assuming she’s already tried. She looks rather annoyed. “Lucas, would you sit down?”

The boy looks at Max, and she glares at him. Clearly he knows better and sits down next to her. 

“Billy doesn’t have to do anything he doesn’t want to do,” you finally say. 

The man in question turns to face you. You have to lean your head back some because of how close he is. 

“Are you going?” he asks, voice quiet and thick with something you don’t know that you’re supposed to notice. 

“Y-yeah. I was gonna. Robin only went on about it to me for an hour over the phone last night. I just think it might be nice to get away for a little while.” Billy doesn’t break eye contact with you, and while it makes you a little nervous, it tells you he’s listening.

“And I can watch Max for you if you really don’t want to go. Just make sure she doesn’t kill Lucas or anything.” Max snorts at your response, though Lucas looks at her in panic, already calculating how best to prevent that sort of situation. 

Your gaze softens and you fight the urge to reach out and run your thumb across Billy’s cheek. 

Please come with us. I want you to go. I want you there, you think. But it’s not what you say. You don’t know how badly he needs to hear it. 

“You really don’t have to go, Billy. Not if you don’t want to.”

“But there is enough space, man.” Steve stands behind the couch, handing El a scrunchie he retrieved from her bag. His voice is calm, informative. “If you decide to go. There’s plenty of room, and we’d be happy if you did.”

Billy could make some smartass remark. But he won’t. He knows that Steve is being honest, and that he’s not trying to be a dick. It seems that witnessing the guy who beat the shit out of you almost die not even a year after he moved to town really brings you together. 

Billy gives an acknowledging nod. “I’d be very happy if you did,” Eleven says. She loves having Jonathan as an older brother, really she does, but Billy lets her play with his hair. And in her books, that really ups the scale. 

He smiles at her, and El considers that a win. 

You notice him shift next to you, and then he’s leaning forward to whisper in your ear. “Come with me?” He cocks his head in the direction of the door. 

He gets up, assuming you’ll follow him. You always do. 

When you’ve shut the door, you move to the porch swing. It’s your favorite spot out here, and Joyce says it makes her happy to see someone use it. She used to sit there with Will in the mornings after Jonathan left for school and read to him. She did the same with Jonathan, but he was a much more fidgety kid, wanting to find something else to do. 

Billy lights a cigarette, and you watch where he fidgets with the ring on his middle finger. 

He’s standing a little ways away from you so as to not breathe the smoke directly in your vicinity, but you wish so badly that he was closer. You like having him close. The weight of his body next to you, the warmth, how solid his arm feels when it’s pressed to yours or when he slides down on the couch some and it's more so pressed to your side. 

“Which part of it are you worried about?” you ask him. 

He shrugs. “You really think they want me there? You think Max wants me around?” “Billy, I know she does. And I know that voice in your head is telling you that it’s a pity invite, but it’s not. And, besides…” you trail off, but he’s not having that. He needs you to reassure him. 

“Besides what?” 

You look up at him. “I want you to go. And yeah, I’ll be sad if you don’t go, but that shouldn’t sway your decision either.” You push your feet against the concrete porch a little harder, and the swing responds to the movement. You move quicker, now feeling very pleased with yourself. 

Billy almost laughs at the child-like look on your face, but you look so at home on the swing that he holds it in. A grin escapes nonetheless. 

“Say that again.” He stubs out his cigarette in the ashtray either Hopper or Joyce have left outside. He’s watching you again. 

“What?” He’s not gonna let you go all shy on him now. He needed to hear that. He needs to hear it. 

“You know what.”

“I want you to go.”

“Then it’s settled. Need to get out of this shithole anyways.”

————

The place Steve found is about two hours from Hawkins, with three bedrooms, a shockingly luxurious pull-out couch, and bigger common areas than you’ve ever laid eyes on. Excluding the ones in Steve’s house. In short, the rental is like Hopper’s cabin, if Hopper’s cabin were updated and substantially larger. It feels like the kind of place rich people have to take weekend trips. You’d rather not find out how much Steve is paying for the lot of you to stay there. 

Robin takes you on a grand tour while everyone else explores the backyard. Dustin is already determined to climb a tree. One of the rooms has two sets of bunk beds, dedicated to the four boys. “To ensure no cootie-spreading,” Robin proclaims. 

She and Steve will share the couch, with Max and Eleven in the smaller bedroom. 

Robin stops at the end of the hallway. “Which leaves…” 

You and Billy. 

You and Billy Hargrove.

Sharing a room. 

Sharing a bed. 

Speaking of, the man in question brushes past you, setting his bag on the floor at the foot of the bed. Robin takes that as her queue to leave and gives you a thumbs up on the way out. You hope she can feel your death stare on the back of her head, and she knows it, being quick to run down the hall. 

“So we’re roomies, huh?” Billy says, gathering his hair at the base of his neck. You hadn’t even realized he had a tie on him, and it takes him finishing off a lazy bun to realize it’s a blue scrunchie. You have to bite your lip to keep from saying anything. 

“I can sleep with Max and El, if you want. Or–”

That crease between Billy’s brows forms. “Why would you do that?”

You’ve gone all warm. You’d have to sleep in bed with him. And you sit next to him all the time, but this is different. Isn’t it?

Maybe it’s not so weird. You’re just friends. It’s like a sleepover, right?

“I don’t know, you might not want to sleep together or something.”

He cocks a brow, but you catch the double meaning of your words just in time. “You know what I mean, Billy.”

He sits on the end of the bed, and reaches out for you. You move towards him slowly, but the moment you’re within his grasp, Billy spreads his legs and grabs your waist, slotting your body between them. 

“You can go if you really want to. If you think I’ve got cooties or somethin’ and you don’t wanna share a bed with me.”

You snort, and Billy drinks in the sound, knowing he’s the one that made you laugh. 

“I don’t think you’ve got cooties.”

You realize in that moment that his hands haven’t left their spot on your waist, never straying anywhere else. The weight of them on you is enough to keep you focused on him, and he seems to acknowledge that. 

“Then what is it?” he asks, in that low drawl you fear could get out any answer he wanted from you. 

You hesitate, but say it anyway. “You don’t think it’ll be weird? Sleeping in the same bed?”

Billy fights the urge to rest his forehead against your stomach. He wants to tell you he’s wished you were in his bed on more than one occasion. Sometimes he just wishes you were there so it wouldn’t feel so cold, so he’d have someone to pull him out of his thoughts before they eat him alive altogether. 

“No, I don’t think it’ll be weird.”

You nod your head, and try to move back from him. 

Billy whines. “Uh uh. Nope.”

You go to put your hands on your hips, and they graze Billy’s on the way. He grabs hold of them. “You don’t want to have a sleepover with me?”

Billy’s looking up at you with those watery blue eyes, and you know this is a battle you’ll never win. 

“Really?”

He lets out a breath of a laugh, and your eyes fall to his neck when he tosses his head back. 

“Yeah, baby.”

Baby. 

It feels like every cell in your body has been sent into overdrive, like you can’t compute a single coherent thought. All because Billy called you “baby”. 

And if he’s being honest with himself, he feels the same way. He hadn’t meant to say it. It’s just that he calls you “baby” in his head all the time, and it just…happened.

“I’d love to have a sleepover with you, Hargrove.”

“Mhm. Thought so.” 

This time he lets the laugh out, and it’s a beautiful sound. The kind of sound you’d commit unspeakable acts to hear again. And this time, he does let his forehead drop to rest on your stomach. It surprises you, but you’re not mad about it.

“Oh, fuck off,” you say, and you can feel his chuckle against your skin.

When he quits, you find yourself just standing there, find your hands moving around his back. He’s always so warm. You rub your hands up and down his back, the denim of his jacket rough on your fingertips. 

You feel him shift, feel his change in position, the hard press of his chin against you. Billy is looking up at you, and you know he’s hoping you’ll return his gaze. His eyes bore into yours, and you hate to think of what you must look like from this angle. Clearly he doesn’t mind. 

You push a curl behind his ear, a shockingly perfect ringlet that’s too short to be contained like the rest of them. 

Billy would be taken aback by the gesture if it weren’t for the fact that you always go this easy on him. Like you know he’s healing, in more ways than one. 

“We can’t stay here forever, you know. I wanna go look around.” 

“Yeah,” he laughs. “I’m sure it’s riveting.” He lets you go anyway, following you down the hall to the rest of the cabin.

————

Your back rests on the base of an oversized chair, one that’s surprisingly comfy, your body in between Robin’s legs. She’s sitting next to Steve, watching you moderate El, Lucas, and Will play Twister. Dustin’s already out. 

“Right hand blue.”

“You’re kidding right?”

“Sinclair, have you never played this game before?”

Lucas scoffs, trying to reach the blue on the other side of the mat without toppling into Will. Max went with Billy to the store, but they should be back soon. You have a sick feeling they’re taking advantage of having been given Steve’s debit card. 

“Yes, I’ve played the game before. If you’re so good, why don’t you get down here and show us how it’s done, Harrington?”

“Yeah, Harrington, why don’t you show us how flexible you are?” Billy’s voice makes you look up from where you’ve been mindlessly twisting the spinner on the board around with the tip of your finger. 

He stands just inside the living room, holding the door open with his leg. He kicks it shut once Max has made it in. She heaves the paper bags she’d been holding up and onto the counter. Steve rises to help unpack them. You follow on instinct, handing the spinner to Robin instead, and Dustin is quick to take Steve’s spot before Mike can. 

Billy won’t let you take anything from him, but he will let you help figure out what the hell to do with all of it. “Do I even want to know how much you both spent?” you ask. 

He gives you that fucking smile, and you know you don’t. “Max said she wanted to have a spa night–whatever that means–with El, so we sort of split up. I’m sure Steve’ll live.” 

“For your information, Lucas,” Steve continues, clearly not ready to let the quips towards his limberness go, “I was the captain of the swim team.”

“What’s that got to do with being flexible, dingus?” Robin directs the two remaining players, the young boy in question having just busted his ass. 

“Swimming is an art form, Rob. You gotta learn to respect it.”

You choke on a laugh, and Billy is quick to rub your back while he chuckles into your shoulder. 

“Something funny over there?” Steve questions. 

You straighten, trying to wipe the smile from your face though it’s to no avail. “Nope, Steven. I’m sure you’re just incredibly stretchy. Like Mr. Fantastic.”

His brow furrows. “Mr. Fantastic?”

Dustin snorts, elbow deep in a bag of chips, and you quickly realize that you probably shouldn’t have given him an opening, but you don’t exactly regret it either. 

The lot of you spend the rest of the night in this fashion, playing games, eating way too much food, taking turns smacking the top of the television so your movie will keep playing. 

It feels like home. It feels safe. You wish it always felt this way. 

————

You’d just finished brushing your teeth when you hear the bedroom door click shut, hear footsteps you can tell are in search of you. 

You peek your head out of the bathroom and Billy grins at the sight of you in pajamas, a smear of moisturizer on your forehead you’ve yet to rub in. 

He squeezes in the small room, about the same size as his at home, to join you. There’s something about this moment, the domesticity of it, that makes your heart swell. It feels like something you could get used to, getting ready for bed with him. Neither of you have to say anything, you just do your own thing, but having him be there, having his presence–it’s more than enough for you. 

When you climb into bed, you try and read for a while, the sounds of Billy washing his face comforting you. You find it easy to read even when he does get in with you, the mattress sinking underneath his weight, the sheets rustling as he moves around experimentally, trying to get comfortable in a bed that isn’t his own. 

You feel odd though, reading when he’s right there, so it isn’t long before you close the book and slide further into the covers with him. Billy’s quick to turn on his side, wanting to see you like this. 

He watches you yank the blankets up to your chin, looking at him over a blur of fluffy white comforter. “It’s fuckin’ freezin’ in here,” you tell him.

“C’mere then.”

You burrow further into your pillow, fearing you know exactly what he’s going to suggest. “Huh?”

“You’re cold. You always whine about me being warm or somethin’ and I’m telling you to come here.”

“Billy.”

“Stop.” He lifts the covers up some, untucking you from them, and he wraps his arm around your back, tugging you into his side. 

Suddenly you’re pressed against him, having slid across the sheets easier than you’d have imagined. 

He’s let go of you, his arm hovering over your back. “You want me to hold you or no?” 

“Yeah.” 

Billy lets his arm drop against your side, his fingers splaying out over your back. He rubs his hand up and down your spine, hoping it’ll warm you up. “This okay?” 

“Yes.” 

He nods. You’re looking at him like he’s something special.

Billy realizes, in that moment, that that’s how you’ve always looked at him. Even before. 

He also realizes that your hands are tucked under your chin and your legs are curled up and into you like you’re afraid of making any contact with him. 

“You can loosen up, you know. It’s just me.” 

You let out a breath of a laugh, and he can feel it against the skin of his neck. 

“It’s okay, I promise. You can touch me.” Billy has this feeling that you’re afraid of hurting him. He’s sure you’ve noticed that he’s wearing a shirt to bed, something he never did before. And he thinks that you’re worried he’ll break. 

“You’re sure?”

“Wouldn’t have said so otherwise.”

He watches you unfold your hands and stretch your arm over him, hooking it around his hip. You want to rub up and down his side, but you’re nervous. 

It’s just me. 

“Do they hurt at all?”

Your thumb skates up a little further, and you don’t have to tell him what you mean. 

“Not all the time,” he says, voice low and thick with drowsiness. “At first, yeah, like hell. Now it’s just sometimes. They can feel a little tight, or just bug me. Depends, I guess.”

You nod, feeling brave enough now to slide your hand up a little further. Your touch is light, barely there. You close your eyes, trying not to think about when it happened. How he’d screamed. 

He can tell when you’ve calmed down some, because your arm relaxes and you hug him a little more firmly. You scoot in a little closer, close enough that your noses would touch if you tried to make them. 

“Goodnight, Billy.”

He makes the move, dragging the tip of his nose across your forehead. He kisses the top of your head, and you grin so wide you feel like a kid in a candy shop. 

“Goodnight, baby.”

————

When you wake up, you almost don’t want to disturb him, but you know you should get out of bed.

Billy is sprawled out on his stomach, having separated from you at some point during the night. His tank top is rucked up from the tossing and turning of sleep, and you look away when you catch a glimpse of pink skin. It doesn’t feel like your place to look. 

You wander out of the room, carefully shutting the door behind you. You make it down the hall, and find that Robin seems to be the only other one awake. You should’ve guessed. She told you once before that her body doesn’t seem to let her sleep in. 

Steve is still passed out on the pull-out couch, completely covered by the blankets. The only sign of him is a tuft of messy hair against the light colored pillow case his head rests on. 

Robin waves at you from her perch at the kitchen counter, a bowl of cereal in front of her. “Want some?” she whispers, pushing the box in your direction. 

You fill up your own bowl, having a feeling that Robin is about to ramble. 

“Sleep okay?” she asks. 

“Mhm. You?”

“Fine. Though, y’know, Steve is a horrific bed hog. Seriously, he was half on top of me the whole night. I might have to bunk with Max and El.” 

You laugh, and Robin takes that as her queue to ask what she’s been pondering since she woke up. 

“Was it okay? Sleeping with Billy? Well, not like that. Well, I’m assuming not like that, not that there’s anything wrong with that, but I just meant like actually sleeping? Please stop me.”

You grin at her. “Please breathe, Rob.” She does, over exaggerating her inhales. “And it was fine.”

“Okay, good. I was kind of worried you’d be frustrated with my matchmaking tendencies. I just really want you two to be happy. And he seems so calm when he’s with you, and I realize I’ve just told you that I’ve been pushing you two together and I–”

You wipe milk from your chin, having almost spit out your cereal. “Robin, sweetheart, it’s okay, I promise. I know about your matchmaking tendencies. But I think we’re just friends, right?”

“Just friends, my ass.” You hadn’t even seen Steve get up, but he’s reaching for the fridge and pulling out a carton of chocolate milk. He really can’t say anything about Dustin’s eating habits when he has the exact same diet. 

“Oh my god.”

“Listen, I’m just saying, there’s been something going on between you two since before the world went to shit. I don’t know why you two tiptoe around each other like it’s not obvious that you’re in love.”

“Steve!” you exclaim. “Seriously, what the hell? I’ve been up for like twenty minutes and you two are schooling me on my love life?”

“Or lack thereof,” Robin says. 

“Okay, damn. You know what, I’m going back to bed.” 

Steve pushes your bowl back towards you when you attempt to get up. “No, you’re not. I’m just saying, there’s no sense in avoiding this. You both clearly feel a lot for each other, and I don’t see any reason to avoid it when you could be together.” 

He’s being vulnerable with you, his big brown eyes boring into yours and trying to convey how serious he’s being. 

“Just think about it, okay? There’s no harm in talking about how you feel with him. And don’t say that you don’t feel anything, because that’s a goddamn lie.”

————

Billy’s had his swim trunks on all day, but he hasn’t done more than sit in the shade by the pool while everyone else makes a mess and plays ridiculous games in the water. 

It’s killing him to watch you in there from time to time, swimming around or sitting in the shallow end. You told him once that swimming calms you down. 

It’s not until after dinner, when everyone has moved inside for the most part, though there seems to be the plotting of a water balloon fight out front, that he’s brave enough to head for the pool. 

You follow him out there, see him contemplating the water. 

“Whatcha doin’?” 

Billy drops the cigarette he’d been smoking, snubbing it out. “Thought about going for a swim,” he tells you. 

“That sounds nice.”

“Mhm.”

“I can go back inside, if you want.”

Billy turns to face you. “No. No, I want you to stay.” He wants you to see. He can’t explain why, but he does. 

“Okay.” 

He takes a shaky breath, hoping you don’t catch it. You do. You always do. 

“I just…wasn’t ready for everyone to see.”

“I understand, Billy.” 

You know what he’s really saying. He wasn’t ready for everyone to see. But he’s ready for you to see. 

“I can get in first, if that helps. And I won’t look if you don’t want me to,” you say. 

“That helps, yeah. And you can look. It’s okay.”

He watches you wade in, watches the way your swimsuit changes color as you tread water. 

Billy takes another deep breath, and he’s pulling his shirt off. He’s quick though, diving straight into the deep end, knowing he needs to get it over with. 

When he comes up, his hair is sticking to his forehead, and he flips it out of the way, giving you a glimpse of the broad pink scar on his chest. 

He meets you halfway, and you think he’s in a serious mood until he’s splashing you like a child. 

“You motherfucker!” 

You get him back, and he’s laughing. 

Billy is laughing and he looks so pretty in the last of the day’s sunlight, beads of water sliding over his collarbones and down his arms, and you feel like you could die. Like seeing him this way is enough. You don’t need anything else.

You try to return a particularly aggressive splash, but he catches your waist, pulling you up and over his shoulder. 

“Billy!”

“What?” His voice is teasing. He tosses the rest of the way over, your laughter fading out into the water. 

You come up, a brilliant smile on his face. Billy’s sure if you stood close enough you’d be able to hear his heart beating. 

When you’ve both gone quiet, your eyes drop to the scars on his sides, the way they stretch across his skin, mean and twisting. Some spots are darker than others, and while it hurts you to look at them, you know it must hurt him even more. But he looks just as beautiful as before, if not increasingly so. 

“See something you like?” Billy says it on instinct. To hide the fact that he’s worried you don’t really like it. That maybe you think he’s gross looking. But he knows that’s all in his head. He fucking knows it. 

“You’re fucking gorgeous, Billy Hargrove.”

You say it with such surety, such admiration, that he can’t even begin to doubt that you mean it. 

He smiles at you. It’s boyish. You’d do anything to see a million more of them. 

He moves towards you, the sky having darkened enough that the outside lights have come on, the lights in the pool too. All that remains of the sun is a slash of deep orange, though the night quickly pushes it away.

Billy’s got you backed up against the wall of the pool now. His hands find your sides.

It’s overwhelming, having him this close. You can feel his breath on your face, see the rise and fall of his chest, the freckles on his cheeks. 

When he kisses you, you think your heart stops. His mouth is warm against yours, and he tastes a little like chlorine, but you don’t care. Your hands find his face, and you’re smiling so hard that he pulls away because he wants to see. You don’t let him for long though, pulling him back, wanting more. He laughs into your mouth, and your chest aches with this feeling.

Eventually you do let go, and when you hold his eye contact, he knows what you’re going to say. He needs to tell you first, though.

“I’m in love with you, you know.”

“I know,” you respond.

He tosses his head back in a laugh, and you press a sweet kiss to his throat. 

“I’m in love with you too, Billy.”

“Damn right you are.”

You snort against his chest, lowering slightly to kiss his scar. His breath catches. He doesn’t know what he did to deserve you. 

“About fucking time!” Steve’s shouting and Robin is yelling, and Max would be making barf sounds if she wasn’t so pleased with seeing her brother so happy. 

“So much for that,” Billy says.

But you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

————

“I’m regretting this, Billy.”

“Stop whining.”

Billy wraps his arms tighter around your back, pressing a kiss to your jaw in hopes that you’ll let him keep doing this. 

“Get off.”

“No.”

“Get off, please.”

“Make me.” 

There’s the sound of a slap, your hand having met his ass.

He raises his head from where he’d buried it in your chest, looking at you drowsily. “You just spanked me.”

And you’d do it again. 

“Didn’t work, did it?”

“No. Shut up and take it.”

By that he means continue letting him lay on top of you, his entire body pressed to yours. It doesn’t matter to him that there’s an entire bed, one that’s made for two people.

You settle for playing with his hair, something he seems to enjoy, and you’d mess with him about the fact that he’s essentially purring if it weren’t for him looking so content. 

He might be heavy, but having Billy Hargrove sleep on top of you isn’t exactly something you just give up. 

He’s never had this before.

Hell, you’ve never had this before. 

And he thinks it’s healing him. More than the salve he puts on his scars, or the physical therapy, or fixing up the Camaro. 

You’re healing him. You. 

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

[lou-struck]

Three Heads, Three Costumes

Lucifer x reader

Flufftober Day 3: Pet Costumes

WC: 1.4k

~ You were supposed to go shopping for your own Halloween Costume but got carried away and ended up making Lucifer's whole month.

Lucifer is exhausted. The haunting melody of one of his favorite records does little to destress him as he sits hunched over his dark mahogany desk, completely engrossed in the expense report for the upcoming RAD Halloween party. Each charge on the ledger seems to deepen the crease between his dark eyebrows. 

No matter how many times he looks lit over, he cannot understand why Asmodeus spent 36,000 Grimm just on Mirrors for what he has labeled as aesthetic purposes. 

He sighs deeply and runs his hand through his hair. Of course, he trusts his brother, but he worries that the fifth-born may be letting the power of being on the party planning committee go to his head.

After staring down at these documents for so long, the demon feels a headache brewing behind his tired eyes. Even when he glances away, he can still see the numbers from the ledger ingrained in his blurred vision.

"You look like you could use a break," a soft voice says from the doorway. He has to blink a few times to remove the numbers from your figure, but simply seeing you eases his mind tremendously. 

"Ah Mc. How did the costume shopping go?" he asks as you pad across the room over to his seat and wrap your arms around the demon, which melts under your loving touch.

"I didn't quite make it there," you say with a strange little chuckle. Lucifer looks up at your face, and he knows you are hiding something from him. 

"But you were gone all afternoon; how did you not manage to buy anything?" he presses, shooting you a knowing smirk. 

"I never said I didn't get anything, just nothing for me." You say, your excitement bursting at the seams as you let go of the demon and pull his chair out from his desk. "Come see what I got."

Your eagerness is contagious and Lucifer finds himself on his own two feet, following you out the door, a loving smile on his face as he wonders what he has gotten himself into.

~

You had wanted to go costume shopping today, you really did. 

But as you were walking to the little boutique Asmodeus told you about, you passed the pet store advertising new seasonal pet treats and you just had to go in and get a few special biscuits for Cerberus has been such a good boy lately. 

You filled your basket with more treats than even Beel could eat in one sitting. You realized that the store didn't just carry pet food and seasonal treats; they also had a huge section of enchanted pet costumes designed to fit whatever pet the owner has. 

You immediately discarded your basket and grabbed a cart instead.

As you descend down into the underground tomb where your sweet, three-headed, fire-breathing hellhound resides. You hope that Lucifer doesn't bring up how much Grimm you have spent today…

"Well, I hope you aren't bringing me down here to share a Cask of Amontillado with me," Lucifer chuckles, following behind you. 

"Nope, not today," you pant, forgetting how many freaking stairs you have to climb to get down here. You pant and are so thankful you used a spell to whisk your many, many shopping bags down all these stairs just moments after you got home. "I got a little something for Cerberus."

"I see," the demon says amusedly, not sounding out of breath at all. "Whatever it is, I hope it doesn't spoil his dinner."

"What kind of dog parent would I be if I don't spoil him a bit," you huff, reaching the bottom of the steps and glancing back at him with a smile.

His lips curl into a smirk as he stops on the last step, towering over your form. "Are you implying that the two of us are a married couple?" 

"For now," you say playfully, looking up at the handsome demon, "but if you don't play your cards right, I'll take the dog when we split." He laughs as you walk over to your pile of shopping bags next to a long stone bench. 

"Did you really get all of this for the dog?" he asks, eyeing your purchases. Of course, you weren't gonna be able to hide anything from him; he's been dealing with Mammon's spending habits for years. 

"I had to," you say quickly. You look around for Cerberus, but he must be off wandering the tunnels, which means that you'll have to do the first part of your pet store haul without him. This may be for the best because you know there is no way in Diavolo you will get that dog to try on all the costumes you bought him. "Have a seat, and I'll show you what I got."

"What's in the bags?" he asks, sliding onto the bench next to you. 

"Costumes," you say, holding up the first bag, "I thought he should get to dress up for Halloween, too."

"You bought costumes… for my Hellhound…" he says slowly, trying to process your strange request. 

"One costume for each head, actually," you say, reaching into the bag filled to the brim with treats and crinkling the packaging; the faint sound travels through the room, alerting the puppy to your presence. 

From one of the tunnels, Cerberus emerges; his sleek fur shines in the light of the enchanted torches as he rushes towards you, his three tongues out and tail wagging up a storm as he slides across the stone to side obediently in front of you. 

"Hey babyyyy," you squeal, rushing up to him and petting the giant hellhound; his tail thumps the ground so much, you feel the vibrations in your feet, but you don't mind at all. "I got you something." you step back and reach into the treat bag, pulling out three pumpkin-shaped dog treats that are supposed to help with digestion. You toss one into each one of his mouths as his six eyes sparkle. 

"You spoil him, MC," Lucifer says, walking up and scratching under his pet's large chin. "Just how many treats did you buy?"

"Only this bag," you say, trying to look as innocent as you can. But you can tell that despite the demon's obvious soft spot for you, he isn't falling for it.

"Okay, fine, like three bags." You say, cracking under the pressure of his knowing gaze. "But I had to. How else are we  going to get him to try on all the costumes I bought him?"

The damn breaks and Lucifer's low laughter fills the room; the look of loving joy on his face makes him look far more lively, almost angelic. You find yourself unable to look away from him. "What am I going to do with you, human?"

"Help me?"

He pulls off his cape and sets it on the bench behind him. "Alright then, where do we start?"

~

Cerberus has had quite the afternoon, being dressed by you and Lucifer. So far, your favorite demonic pupper has had its heads dressed up as doctors…

Sailors, Superheroes, Lions, Tigers, Bears, and more.

And every time he sits still, he gets showered with treats and friendly scratches.

"Alright, Cerberus… you are doing so good. Just sit still for just a little longer," you grunt, trying to secure the last feathered hat on the Hellhound heads. Lucifer gives him another treat as a bribe, and he stills once again.

His dinner is definitely spoiled now.

Sliding down his back, you step back to admire your handiwork. So far, the Three Musketeers costume you picked out is the best yet. The large hats and bright blue doublets around their necks make them look absolutely adorable.

"What do you think of this one, Lucifer?" you ask, looking over at The Avatar of Pride, who looks much happier picking out Halloween costumes for his pet than wasting his day away in his study. 

"I like this costume more than the last," he says, sparing a glance at the charred pile that used to be the bumble bee costumes on the floor next to him. Cerberus certainly has his own opinions when it comes to the outfits you pick out. "But I still think we can do better; what else did you buy?"

"Let's see," you walk over to your now-smaller pile of costumes and go through them carefully. "I have the alien, the astronaut, and the moon set."

"Interesting…" he says, "Cerberus would look rather fetching with the little alien headband. What else do we have?"

His little pun brings a smile to your face as you grab the next few bags, holding them up to the light, "How long do you have?"

Tagging: @pixelcafe-network @ambiguouslady42

[visionsoffutile]

"Well, did she make you cry? Make you break down"

Gold dust woman: chapter one

The soft hum of music filled the small, dimly lit music store. You leaned against the counter head nodding slightly to beat of Gold dust woman by fleetwood mac off of the rumors album. You'd picked the album for to start the day off. The air smelled of aged records,wood,and faintly something sweet-like vanilla. The smell made the morning less dull.

It was just another slow Saturday. Or you thought.

The small door bell chimed as it opened, letting the cool autumn air in.

In she walked.Regina George.

It was not hard to notice her, it never was. Blond hair, perfectly styled. An outfit that scremed 'fall core', from designer boots to the soft cashmere sweater that hugged off her shoulders just right. She carried that self confidence that most people don't have.

But she walking straight towards you. You swallowed hard,pushing off the counter and trying to compose yourself. Regina fucking George in a music store? This felt like a storm was upon you. Couldn't figure out why she came in or hell even picked this store.

"Hi, can I help you?" Your voice came out more casual than you felt. Inside your heart was racing. You were used to customers, but not customers like her.

She didn't respond right. Instead her eyes roamed the shelves, barley acknowledging your presence at first, as though she was weighing whether you were worth her time. She drifted her fingers across a row of vinyl records, her expression unreadable then finally glanced up at you with those piercing blue eyes.

"I'm looking for something...I have to get a friend a birthday present" she said her voice smooth as a honey but with edge. "Like a taylor swift or lana del rey album."

"Well uh,I got a few suggestions." You said stepping around the counter and making towards lana del rey and taylor swift records. You could feel her watching as you moved, and it sent a shiver down your spine. 'Don't trip, don't trip' mentally chanted.

You pulled out two records one from both artist and showed to her. "So whose birthday?". "Karens" she responded. You put the lana del rey record back. "Taylor is definitely her is vibe."

She stepped closer, inspecting the record in your hands. She was so close now you could smell her perfume, something expensive and intoxicating. You could feel the heat rising in your face.

"You're cute when you're nervous" she said causally, like she was commenting on the weather. Your brain short circuited for a moment. Was Regina George flirting with you? Or just playing some twisted game like she known for?

You cleared your throat, trying to pull yourself together. "So you want the record or...".

Regina looked at One more, Then back at you."Yes." She shrugged , but there was something in her gaze that felt almost... predatory. It sent a thrill through you.

As you rang her up at the counter you couldn't help but still glances at her. She was on her phone looking on bother, like she hadn't just made your heart do a weird flip.

When you handed her the bag she took it with a smile. "Thanks, what's your name?". You stammered it out, surprise she even cared to ask.

"Hmm." Regina smiles deepend,eyes flickering over you one last time. "I'll see you around y/n."

With that she turned on her heel.And walked out of the store leaving you dumbfounded. The door swung shut behind her soft chime, and the store was suddenly quiet.

You exhaled a breath you hadn't realized you were holding.

Somehow you knew this wouldn't be the last time,Regina George walked into your life.

[pecanwriter]

Big Boy Mode: Activated

Themes: rapid weight gain, humiliation kink, technology-induced weight gain (so like, magic weight gain but for sci fi nerds I guess)

Words: 2947

Part: 1/?

"Hello, sir, would you like to hear about our newest product, the most revolutionary nanotechnology to date?"

Elliott really wasn't one to ever let some marketing lackey torment him with semi-logical babble about something he didn't even want to buy. But he was a technology whore, and just the mere mention of nanotechnology had him nearly salivating at the mouth.

He smiled at the promoter, stepping closer and trying to look at all the flashing screens at once. 

"Introducing SimNano or Simulator Nano. This revolutionary technology is the newest hit in terms of body augmentation and we're making record sales all around the globe."

The promoter pulled something from his pad to one of the screens. 

"The way this works, we inject nanobots into your body and connect their signature to your personalised control panel as well as a wristband, the wristband sold separately." 

He watched as on the screen a scrawny shirtless man selected a holographic projection of his body and added 50% more muscle to the model. He clicked "Active Mode" at the bottom of the screen and for a moment his entire body rippled in an unfamiliar way until he stood there completely buffed out, Captain America style.

Elliott blinked. He looked from the freshly buffed-out man to the promoter.

"How does that work?"

"The nanobots we inject into the client's system are capable of replication and imitation of any human tissue. However, they are only capable of growing, not shrinking, it's not a diet pill as many would hope so." The promoter laughed at his own poor joke.

Elliot chuckled obligingly but the phrase "they are only capable of growing" was bouncing around in his head trying to make him hard. 

"Is there a limit to what they can imitate? For example, if someone was missing a leg…?" He chose his words carefully, hoping the man would fall for his set-up and tell him exactly what he wanted.

The man's gaze flickered down to Elliot's leg and although Elliot had no such thing, he let the man assume he had a prosthetic. It was an unassuming lie, didn't hurt anyone, it was just better than even a sliver of the truth.

"Oh, they're absolutely capable of replicating a leg. As I said, they can imitate any human tissue, muscles, nerves, fat, even bones…"

When he said the f-word Elliot's cock jerked awake and he had to cover his crotch with the shopping bag he was holding.

"And are the changes permanent…?"

"No, that's not how it works, It's imitating and replicating the tissue in Active Mode, but as soon as it's Deactivated everything goes back to normal."

Elliot's cock was throbbing as he fought to maintain perfectly normal eye contact with the promoter.

"And while it's active, does it feel real or is it like a hologram or a model or…"

"Oh no, It feels absolutely real, that's why we are the leading company in…"

He prattled on but Elliot didn't listen, all he could think of was the phrase "it's only capable of growing" as his cock throbbed.

"How much is it?"

It was bloody expensive, as it turned out. Elliott put a sizable dent in the savings he was putting away to get a mortgage on a single-bedroom flat. But somehow, all he felt was excitement, there was no shame or regret to be found anywhere.

After he made his purchases he had to go to their branch store and get injected with nanobots. The syringe wasn't that big and he wondered if it would be enough firepower for what he had in mind. They scanned his body thoroughly to put the model into his pad and wristband and connect the nanobots to it. As a trial, the shopping clerk showed him how to give himself impressive biceps and everyone present at the shop oohed and awed at the result. 

The promoter was right, it felt absolutely real. The rippling Sensation Elliott saw in the video felt only like a slight cold tingling under his skin and then within seconds the impressive biceps appeared.

He deactivated his SimNano, thanked the clerk and left, struggling to walk straight with his dick pressing hard against his trousers.

When he came home he almost immediately tore off his shirt. He brought out the control panel on the band with shaking hands and clicked on the scrawny little model of himself. He moved his finger around, highlighting his midriff and ass. He clicked "expand" and then in the tissue subcategory he clicked "fat" instead of the pre-selected "muscle". You could put the desired amounts in body percentages or in units of measurement. He clicked on lbs, the most precise one, and tapped in 20(9kg). Then after a moment's hesitation, he erased it and clicked 40lb(18kg) instead.

With shaking fingers he clicked "Active Mode" and his skin began to tingle with the cold sensation. Seconds later Elliott was staring down at a round, fat gut and he could feel his boxers strain mercilessly against his expanded ass. 

He put the pad away gently and grabbed the ball of flab at his front. He was never this fat in his life, but it felt real enough, from what he could guess. He lifted the stomach and let it drop, watching it jiggle and wobble. A moan escaped him. He couldn't believe this was happening. 

Before even getting a look in the mirror Elliott fell to the couch, frantically gnawing his flesh with one hand and stroking his cock with the other. He never came this hard in his entire life. 

He finally managed to pull himself up into standing, revelling in how his gut was suddenly in the way and looked in the mirror. 

He laughed, the effect was ridiculous. Although his belly and ass looked fantastic and absolutely realistic, it looked ludicrous on his scrawny body which remained unchanged.

Elliott deactivated the band and reset the model. After a moment’s hesitation, he selected his entire body “Increase by 100% body mass” and selected “fat” in the tissue category. He considered carefully and finally decided to increase his ass and gut separately on top of increasing the fat equally around his entire body. 

Elliott’s finger hovered over the band, but before clicking the Activate button he checked the measurement box again and changed 100% to 200lb. Again, before clicking it, he wavered and finally ended up changing it to 300lb(136kg) with sweaty fingers. Adding 300lb to his meagre 132lb(60kg) would put him at a glorious 432lb(195kg), a fulfilment of a fantasy Elliott had since before he was even consciously aware of it. 

Eliott pressed the Activate button.

He was still standing in front of the mirror and he let out a gasp as the nanobots went to work, making his entire body shiver with the unfamiliar coldness, the feeling much more overwhelming with tasking them to simulate 300lb instead of a measly 40 he attempted at first. 

Elliott watched with intense, nearly blinding fascination as his body rippled slightly and moments later exploded into folds and bulges and rolls, becoming an unrecognisable mountain of flesh. He stared at the enormous gut, too heavy to be completely round as it hung in front of him almost like a massive, engorged flesh apron. His face was unrecognisable, swallowed by an enormous double chin and chubby cheeks, melting into the fat around his neck seamlessly. The man in the mirror couldn’t be him, could he? It was too good to be real… The fat man lifted his arm as Elliott lifted his, only his arm never had an enormous wing of fat hanging off it and jiggling as he moved. When Elliott moved his normal arm it didn’t send his entire massive body into wobbles, but the man in the mirror sure wobbled like an impressive jello dessert. 

Elliott grabbed his gut, an enormous, almost all-encompassing mound of flesh hanging in front of him. He grabbed it, lifted it as much as he could and dropped it. The way the flesh shook and jiggled forced a moan out of him. Already half-hard again, he inched closer to the mirror. Elliott could barely move under the unknown sensation of this immense bulk and he almost stumbled into his mirror, nearly crushing it. Just the half step made his heart race with excursion and his lungs begged for air. 

This SimNano thing was worth every penny, in fact, Elliott thought they were losing money. It was too good to be real. 

He turned off Active Mode, in a few seconds staring back at this familiar skinny self with an impressive hard-on. 

Staring intently, eager to catch every little detail, he pressed Activate again. 

Watching his body explode with fat, filling out with blubber in mere seconds and leaving him unrecognisable was so impossibly erotic that he climaxed just from turning the SimNano off and on again, watching himself gain hundreds of pounds in seconds. 

After he managed to somehow climax three times within the span of an hour he decided it was enough for one day, he was starting to feel light-headed. 

He tapped Deactivate. 

Nothing happened. 

He tapped it again. Still, nothing.

He stared at the band, but it appeared to be frozen. Frantically, he started waddling unsteadily to his backpack where the main SimNano pad was. Walking across the room to his bag while suddenly 300lb heavier was incredibly difficult and equally, if not more, arousing. His giant thighs were rubbing against each other, he could feel he was hitting his enormous apron of a gut with each clumsy step… The enormous behind he’d given himself jiggled with every step and so did his soft, blubbery tits. 

When he finally made it to his back and retrieved his pad Elliott was nearly ready to collapse with how out of breath he was. 

The pad was as frozen as the band was. 

“Fuck.” He whispered, looking into the mirror across the room. He was enormous, there was no way he could leave the house like this and he had a night shift at the bar today. 

It was 5 p.m., and he had work at 8, so technically, he still had time. He could just… Indulge for a while while waiting for the SimNano to unfreeze. 

Elliott laboriously waddled to the bedroom. He had a few pieces of massive clothing he sometimes wore while stuffing it with pillows and pretending he was huge. He pulled on a pair of tracksuit trousers. They could barely encompass his enormous ass. Even the biggest of his secret fetish shirts was snug on him now and his monstrous gut was happily hanging out at the bottom. 

The flat needed tidying up and he also had to cook to have something to eat after his shift when he would undoubtedly be too tired to do anything. 

He began busying himself around the house, every little chore making him hornier than the last one. Everything was a thrill, trying to wipe dust off the higher shelves and feeling how his enormous gut was hanging further and further out of his shirt, trying to wash dishes and finding that he could barely reach into the sink with the enormous mound of blubber in the front of him. When he went to clean the plastic shower door, something that he meant to do all week, he nearly got stuck in the narrow space and instead of trying to find the best angle to free himself he rubbed against the shower wall, making himself cum just with the friction against his fat body. He would’ve jerked himself off if the was any hope of reaching his penis under all that flesh, which there absolutely wasn’t.

With all the chores completed and with food prepped for later, Elliott went to check on the pad. It was still frozen. It was 7.20 pm.

He called in sick and trying not to freak out about it just yet he repositioned the mirror closer to the couch where he planted his enormous ass and began rubbing his flesh. 

There was no need to freak out, he was sure the NanoSim would reset overnight. 

*

Elliott woke up still on the couch and still as enormous as when he drifted off, exhausted by the almost constant sexual tension of the previous day. 

He tapped the band. Frozen. The pad proved to be in a similar state. 

Elliott tried calling the NanoSim Technical Support but they told him that there was nothing they could do remotely because there were health hazards involved, so he would have to come to one of their stores to get it reset. 

Which meant… Going outside as a 432lb man. 

Elliott ate his modest breakfast of a skinny man and wondered how it would look to an outsider, a guy who was nearly half-tone of blubber eating a modest portion of oatmeal. 

Before leaving the house he pulled on a beanie and didn’t shave his unimpressive stubble. There was no way anyone would recognise him, but he still didn’t want to risk it. 

His heart was pounding so hard that it was all he could hear as Elliott stepped out into the hallway. 

Usually, Elliott just took the stairs from the second floor he lived on, but there was no way he was going to take the stairs today, he could barely move with all that unfamiliar weight on him, his waddle almost a caricature of itself. 

There was a lady in the lift and when the doors opened she frantically looked between Elliott and the lift control panel informing all the passengers that the weight limit was 500lb. She was slim, but there was no way she was less than 100lb. 

“You go on” Elliott smiled at her and she pressed the button to close the door almost frantically. 

He wasn’t sure if he actually WAS 432lb or if the nanobots just made it appear so to him, but he wasn’t going to risk it. 

There was an Uber waiting for him, but Elliott had to cancel the ride when it turned out that he couldn’t fit in the car. 

With his dick painfully hard and trapped between mounds of flesh he selected a different ride, making sure it was big enough to accommodate for a massive hog like him. He barely fit and his gut filled his lap completely. The driver was visibly disgusted and Elliott’s already painfully hard dick throbbed under his apron belly. 

Waddling and puffing his way through the shopping centre to the SimNano store was the most humiliating and gratifying experience of his life. Everyone, without exception, stared at the giant man barely waddling his way through the halls, his too-small shirt riding up his enormous gut and his face flushed with the effort of putting all that blubber into motion. 

When he finally made it to the store he was heaving, his breath rasping and his entire body sticky with sweat. 

The only person in the store was the clerk, a teak-skinned man with a mop of black curls and bright, quick eyes. He was very much Elliott’s type and the fact that he had to talk to a handsome guy while his enormous gut hung out of his shirt and he was so out of breath was arousing beyond all reason. 

“Hello, I’m Omar, how can I help you?” 

“Hi, I… uff.. Sorry… I have a problem with my SimNano, the program froze last night and it’s still frozen.” He handed the man his pad, still trying to catch his breath. 

“Let’s see here…” Omar took his pad from him and when he saw the program the SimNano was frozen on he slowly looked back up at Elliott, his lips stretching into a mischievous grin. Elliott felt like his entire face was on fire. Somehow it didn’t dawn on him that the clerk would see the program he was running. If he could, he’d bolt it out of the store in embarrassment, but he couldn’t, not when he was this massive. 

“Let me just do some troubleshooting here.” Omar said, his smirk still on his face as he plugged the device into a PC and started clicking. 

“Alright,” he said a few minutes later. “It looks like I got it, but let me just check…” 

“What…”

Elliott watched with growing terror as Omar proceeded to add another 50lb(22kg) to his program and activating it. Elliott staggered back, feeling his gut hanging marginally lower, the waistband of his tracksuit digging just that much deeper into his blubber. 

“Just to double check, better to be sure.” Omar said, adding another 50 on top of that. 

Elliott had to grab onto the counter as the enormous weight started to threaten to topple him to the ground. He was heaving just from the sheer effort of standing up.

Omar’s cheeky grin was turning downright mischievous. 

“I think it’s working now.” the clerk said, bringing the program down to its original +300lb setting. 

“T-thank you…” Elliott panted, taking his pad back and thanking all the Gods that his gut hid his erection. 

As he was waddling back to the entrance Omar’s voice stopped him in his tracks.

“Ey, fat boy.” 

That nickname alone nearly made Elliott give an ungainly moan, right there in the middle of the shopping centre.

“Y-yes?” “Give me your number, I write NanoSim codes in my spare time and big improvement to the overall experience. I mean…. Huge improvements.” 

Omar’s grin was pure evil and Elliott was sure his own was no better as he gave the handsome man his number.

This was going to be fun. 

PART 2

[commodorez]

I still believe the craziest form of computer program storage format from the 1980s is the cassette tape. Logical I get it but to store entire programs on little tape (that I only remember using to play music) is just crazy to me. Idk

Agreed, cassette tape for data storage was really clever. The concept had its heyday was the 1970s in a wide variety of encoding schemes for different computer platforms. It did persist into the 80s, mostly in Europe, while the US switched to floppy disks as soon as they were available for systems. The majority of my Ohio Scientific software is on cassette.

Talking with UK vs. US Commodore 64 users in particular will highlight the disparity in which storage mediums that were commonplace. I've got a few pieces of software on tape for mainly the VIC-20, but I rarely bother to use it, because it's slow and annoying. To be fair, Commodore's implementation of data storage on tape is pretty rock solid relative to the competition. It's considered more reliable than other company's but Chuck Peddle's implementation of the cassette routines are considered quite enigmatic to this day. He didn't document it super well, so CBM kept reusing his old code from the PET all the way through the end of the C128's development 7 years later because they didn't want to break any backward compatibility.

The big thing that really made alot of homebrewers and kit computer owners cozy up to the idea was the introduction of the Kansas City Standard from 1976. The idea of getting away from delicate and slow paper tape, and moving towards an inexpensive, portable, and more durable storage medium was quite enticing. Floppy disk drives and interfaces were expensive at the time, so something more accessible like off the shelf audio tapes made sense.

I've linked two places you can read about it from Byte Magazine's February 1976 issue below (check the attribution links).

You might recognize a familiar name present...

There are a few ways to encode binary data on tape designed to handle analog audio, but the KCS approach is to have 1's be 8 cycles of 2400Hz tone, and 0's be 4 cycles of 1200Hz tone. I say cycles, because while 300 baud is the initial specification, there is also a 1200 baud specification available, so the duration of marks vs spaces (another way of saying 1's and 0's), is variable based on that baud rate. Many S-100 computers implemented it, as do a few contemporary proprietary designs.

The big 3 microcomputers of 1977 that revolutionized the industry (Apple II, Commodore PET 2001, and Tandy TRS-80 Model I) each have their own cassette interface implementation. It kept costs down, and it was easy to implement, all things considered. The Apple II and TRS-80 use off-the-shelf cassette deck connections like many other machines, whereas the original variant of the PET had an integrated cassette. Commodore later used external cassette decks with a proprietary connector, whereas many other companies abandoned tape before too long. Hell, even the original IBM PC has a cassette port, not that anybody bothered to use that. Each one used a different encoding format to store their data, rather than KCS.

Here's a sample of what an OSI-formatted tape sounds like.

And here's a Commodore formatted tape, specifically one with VIC-20 programs on it.

I won't subject you to the whole program, or we'd be here all day. The initial single tone that starts the segment is called the "leader", I've truncated it for the sake of your ears, as well as recorded them kinda quietly. I don't have any other tape formats on hand to demonstrate, but I think you get the idea.

You can do alot better than storing programs on tape, but you can also do alot worse -- it beats having to type in a program every time from scratch.

[kitashousewife]

sakusa doesn’t mind errands.

it makes him feel a little more accomplished, crossing things off of the to-do list. big or small, it gives him a chance to get out and enjoy himself, maybe even indulge on something new.

today is a day he would consider almost perfect. he’s grocery shopping through what feels like an empty store, listening to music while he weaves through the isles. this is his last stop of the morning, after the post office and the gym, and he’s ready to go home.

sakusa slows his cart to a stop when he reaches the last isle, eyes skimming the shelves for some fabric softener before he can head home.

a tap on his shoulder makes him just about shout in the store, the physical feeling of a record scratch makes his body jolt.

“e-excuse me?”

“yes?”

“h-hi,” you pull your hand away slowly, staring up at him with a rather nervous look on your face.

“hello.”

“sorry, i just,” you sigh, turning back to the shelves again. “what fabric softener do you recommend?”

at first, sakusa thinks you’re kidding. he tries to think if he’s ever been asked that in his life.

ever since his career took off, he’s had people stop him for numerous things. photos, autographs, cheap excuses at getting a few flirty comments in, you name it. this is a new one.

“u-uh, i guess it depends on what you’re looking for.”

you hum and nod, eyes still fixed on the bottles in front of you.

“something that smells good and leaves my clothes feeling soft i guess, but not something cheap and perfume-y, you know?”

sakusa absolutely does know, having gone through this same thing. he reaches forward, grabbing a familiar bottle and holding it out for you.

“this one’s good, not too expensive but still has a good smell.”

you turn to the stranger, only now realizing who you’re talking to. you’ve seen his photos, his instagram, and you’ve watched a handful of his games. your eyes widen for a second, but you give him a smile.

“thanks! ill try it out. i trust you,” you place the bottle in your basket and wrack your brain for something else to say.

“you’re welcome,” he mumbles, grabbing a bottle of his own. you’re about to walk away when he decides to speak up. “i hate having to find new products like this, so i’m happy to help.”

you smile wide, turning to face him again with a relieved expression. “right! it’s like as soon as you start to use something regularly, it completely stops working!”

he gives you a small smile and nods.

“i had the same thing with the bathroom cleaner i was using a couple weeks ago. i still haven’t found a replacement.”

sakusa is not one for small talk. he thinks it’s a waste of time, and something that typically makes him uncomfortable. but for some reason, here he is, blabbing about different cleaning products to some stranger.

a very pretty one at that.

“let me return the favor,” you spin around to the shelves behind the two of you, searching for something while a pop hit plays faintly in the background. you grab a spray bottle and hand it towards him. “this one’s great. one of the few things that hasn’t failed me in a while.”

sakusa smiles, and he can feel his cheeks turning pink. this feels so unfamiliar yet natural at the same time, and he’s having trouble keeping up.

“thank you,” he looks back at his cart for a second, suddenly feeling a little more shy than before. you sense this and give him a small wave.

“i hope you enjoy it! and thanks again for the help. i can now wash my clothes in peace.”

he nods and gives a small wave in response. you begin to walk away, and sakusa feels his heart beginning to race. he debates between following you and walking the other direction for a moment or two.

“w-wait,” he reaches towards you, but you’re just a bit too far. thankfully you stop, and sakusa feels relieved. “could i get your number?”

stunned with his new-found outgoing behaviors, he almost doesn’t hear you when you agree, only registering what’s going on when you hand him your phone. he takes it carefully, inputting his number quickly and handing it back to you with rosy cheeks.

he goes home that day with a giddy feeling in his tummy, hoping you text him back. when his phone buzzes later that evening with a photo of your folded laundry and a thank you, he feels a bit more confident and thankful for stepping out of his comfort zone.

[starcurtain]

The Kinda Unhinged Ratiorine Fic I Want to Read

In an (admittedly very contrived) AU situation, Dr. Ratio finds out he's about to be cut out of his (mostly estranged) family's inheritance forever because of his complete lack of interest in continuing the family line. Which, all factors considered, does make perfectly logical sense. Investment of capital should go to the branch of the lineage most likely to benefit from it, and Cousin Tiberius has five sons and daughters already. Let the house and the trust fund go to them.

But the library.

There's absolutely no way Veritas could bear to be permanently parted from the staggering assemblage of paper volumes under his collected family's auspices. Not only would being separated from tomes so full of memories be heart-wrenching, but think of the devastating blow to his research! There are records in those archives that no other mortal eyes have ever gazed upon!

So there's only one solution for it: He needs to pass on his family name, immediately.

(Andddd the rest is under a read more because what is brevity?)

Problem 1: Veritas Ratio is very gay.

Problem 2: Statistically, single men have the lowest chance of being selected for adoption placement, and this Child Welfare Agent is looking at his alabaster head very, very strangely.

Think, Ratio, think. What is the most efficient way to solve such a tedious quandary?

The obvious first step is to increase his likelihood of being selected by the adoption agency, and the quickest way to do that is... Eureka! How elegant a design! He just needs to enter into a (temporary) committed and stable partnership to demonstrate a degree of domestic dedication and home-building prowess!

Problem 3: ...Where in the universe is he going to find a stable and committed man willing to marry him?

Ratio does not exactly possess the world's most endearing personality. He might... never have had any form of romantic relationship lasting past a one-night stand even, because it turns out most people don't like being scored a 2/10 on their technique during intercourse.

So he's probably not going to find a stable and committed man.

But... He might at least find someone willing--for the right price.

Enter Aventurine (stage left). He's as expensive as they come, the greatest reward saved for the highest bidder, but despite his festering ambitions, he's still trapped as nothing more than a high-class escort, owned by a company the IPC has on the books as selling everything but what they actually trade in: Avgin slaves.

Sigonians... The reputation--and sleazy men's curiosity--precedes him, and though he only has to get on his knees for the truly bold nowadays, he hasn't yet been able to make the ultimate gamble, pull the last string needed to finally gain his freedom: the freedom to live his life as he pleases--and to enact every ounce of vengeance he's been storing for decades like cards up his sleeves.

Until now.

Until an absolute madman shows up at the underground headquarters waving around an offer that no average person would possibly make: He wants to buy Aventurine and wed him.

(Because marrying a Sigonian thrall is a safe and sane thing that safe and sane people do.)

The offer is far too good to be trusted: A real marriage certificate but a perfectly fake marriage, a no-fault divorce once an adoption is finalized, and a guaranteed sponsor for his citizenship documents. A year or two of fake homemaking, this Veritas Ratio claims, and then Aventurine can walk away a completely free man, no strings--no chains--attached.

Well, Aventurine of the Myriad Stratagems has always held one skill dearer to his heart than any other: a crystal clear knowledge of when to fold--and when to go all in.

(...Problem 4: Amber Lord help him, Aventurine's new husband is the most irritating man in the entire universe.)

Alas, if only that was their biggest problem. Somewhere between learning to navigate the citizenship process, the adoption process, a truly unacceptable level of systemic racism, and also, increasingly, each other, Ratio and Aventurine discover that the circumstances of their lives might be far more entangled than they ever could have imagined from the beginning, and the same shadowy parties that profited off Aventurine's existence might have a vested interest in parting Ratio from valuable research secrets--permanently.

While struggling to maintain a charming and loving facade and struggling not to kill each other behind the scenes, Aventurine and Ratio also end up having to out-roll and out-plan a particularly dangerous enemy; something they can really only do together.

Or, tl;dr: Dr. Ratio chooses the most efficient but most unhinged method of finding a husband that intelligence could possibly contrive, only to determine that marrying a guy whose track record for unexplained deaths matches his track record for card counting really is the encyclopedic opposite of "committed and stable." Ridiculously enough, the trouble they get into is almost entirely Ratio's fault, the only one who is remotely convincing in front of the Child Welfare Agency is Aventurine, and sometimes it turns out the guy you married for the library ends up being the guy you married for life.

[hearts4golbach]

Get the Angles Right!

chapter 3.

pairing:

Johnnie Guilbert x Fem!Reader.

warnings:

none

"Well, good morning, Johnnie." You locked your apartment door. "How was the meeting?"

"long and really fucking boring, obviously." he smiled at you. "How'd you sleep?"

you pressed the button on the elevator. "I couldn't. my mind was flooded with ideas for you. it was crazy. I filled up a third of my notebook."

"I can't tell if that's a good or a bad thing." Johnnie laughed.

"I think it's good. who need sleep, anyway?" You smirked, shooting him a wink before stepping out of the elevator. "The first place I wanna show you is right up the street."

"Okay," he hummed as he walked next to you. "Despite all of the nasty shit, New York is really pretty."

"Yeah," you agreed. "I like the aesthetic of it all. it makes me feel more professional, like I'm in a movie. it's good motivation, sometimes."

"I'll have to come back and visit again."

in all honesty, you had forgotten he didn't live here in the first place. your heart ached. you looked away from him as you recollected yourself. "Yeah, you should." You shot him a fake smile and turned your head back towards the path.

you paused before speaking again. "My dream is to open my own store, some day." You looked at the vacant building across the street. "I mean, I'd make less singled out designs. some shit that anyone can walk in and buy, you know?"

he followed your gaze to the building across the street. "What would you name it?"

"probably something a lot cooler than L/n Designs, but you know. I may be creative with fabrics, but not with names." You sighed and laughed at yourself. "Maybe my boring name is why my clothes don't catch people's attention."

he shrugged. "I mean, I don't know jack shit about fashion or the fashion industry, but I'm sure it just takes time like everything else."

"You're right. It does." You took a step closer to him. "You're pretty fashionable for someone who apparently knows nothing about it."

"I kind of just throw together whatever is in my closet." he laughed. "I've been dressing like this since middle school, y/n."

"Me too! I mean, whenever I go out I'm dressed up but 90% of the clothes I wear are pajamas." You pointed towards the shop coming up. "This is it."

"Wait, what even is it? you never told me where we're going." Johnnie squinted in an attempt to read the sign.

"Wow, you put a lot of trust into me. it's a record store. not one of those big corporate shits that only sell today's top pop record vinyls, but you'll see." You cut yourself off, not wanting to spoil it.

he opened the door for you. you thanked him and walked in. "The quote unquote emo section is my favorite. whenever I actually want to buy a record, I always find one of my favorite albums. I'm not sure if everything in this section is actually emo, but, yeah."

you flicked through the selection, finding the 'Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge' album that comes with a red record.

"Oh, shit." Johnnie mumbled as you pulled it out of the selection.

"i know! I'd blast this shit whenever I was younger. to be fair, I still do." you laughed. "I'll have to come back and snag this one in my free time. I don't want to carry it around all day."

Johnnie began looking through the next part of that section. "damn, I really fucking underestimated this place." he pulled out the album 'Pretty. Odd.' by Panic! at the Disco. it was just a normal, black record.

"I love panic! I've never seen pretty odd here before." he handed it to you, and you flipped it towards the back.

he looked at you with a soft smile. he admired your excited facial expression. "yeah, me too." he said softly.

you looked back at him. the eye contact lasted what felt like hours, and it was electric. you shook your head softly. "Uh, yeah. they also have shit like vintage concert posters and tee shirts. of course, they're all expensive as fuck so I've never gone out of my way to get them. they're cool to look at, though."

Johnnie followed you to the back of the store. his eyes were wide as he looked over the countless posters that were hanging on the wall, each one overlapping another. "how does someone even get all of this shit?"

"I don't know, donations or people sell them, I guess." you shrugged.

the twi of you walked around towards the alternative pop section. you and Johnnie reached at the same time. your hand fell on top of his. you hesitated before pulling it away. "God, how many times are we going to do that?" You joked.

he shrugged, his face red. "it's whatever, I don't really mind."

you tried to hide your smile. "Me, either." You flipped through the first few. "Look, melanie martinez. do you know her?" You asked, handing him the 'Cry Baby' album with a baby pink and blue record.

"I've heard of her, yeah. I've never really listened to her, though." he looked at the back. "these song names are sick as fuck, though."

"you should check her out," you mention, putting the record back in its place.

you two left the store. "There's this small cafe across the street. if you're interested, we can stop and get coffee or something. it's on me this time, by the way."

"Yeah, let's go." he smiled

you pressed the button for the crosswalk. the light changed, signaling you to go. you began to step forward before Johnnie grabbed your arm and pulled you back. you watched in shock as a car whipped past you.

"fuck, don't scare me like that, y/n. i can't have you getting hit by a car right in fucking front of me." his hand stayed rested on your arm.

you turned around to look at him. "im sorry. maybe I should pay more attention." You laughed nervously.

"Don't worry about it, just glad you're okay." his hand slid down your arm and gripped your hand. he shook it gently before dropping it.

you carefully crossed the street with Johnnie glued to your side.

whenever you reached the cafe, he held the door open for you. "Thank you. apparently, this place is family owned and shit. it's really good, I go here all the time. I usually get a mocha frappuccino and a croissant. what do you want?"

he walked up to stand beside you and scanned over the menu. "Hot chocolate?"

you hummed, "I've never had it here before. Do you want a croissant, too?"

he nodded. "Yeah, sure."

you instructed him to go pick a seat, and you would order. he walked off, and you walked up to the counter.

"Hi! what can I get started for you?" The woman had a cheerful smile. she was older, probably in her late 50s.

"Can I get two croissants, a hot chocolate, and a mocha frap? both medium, please." You smiled back as you pulled out your card.

"Yes, ma'am. your total is on the screen, swipe whenever you're ready."

you paid the bill. she took your name for the order, and you went back to sit with Johnnie.

"everyone seems really fucking nice here." he mentioned. he looked away from the window to make eye contact with you.

you shrugged. "more or less. it depends where you go. that's why I have my signature spots." You smiled and sat at the seat across from him. "Is everyone a dick in LA or something?"

he shrugged. "People don't really interact with each other, to be honest. but not everyone is like that. it just feels like it's rare to find someone who is actually nice."

"Maybe you're just looking at it the wrong way. everyone is nice in their own way of showing it, or at least that's what my mother used to tell me." you explained. "I always try to see the good in people."

his bright blue eyes were excentuated by the sun. "that's actually a really fucking good way to look at it. damn, I never thought about that."

you shrugged. the woman called your name, and you went to go grab your order. it was on a small tray, which made it easier to carry everything.

you passed Johnnie his hot chocolate and croissant, then took your own. he took a sip of his hot chocolate. the taste made him raise his eyebrows. "this is actually really good. wanna try?"

"yeah, wanna try mine?"

you traded drink and took a sip of eachothers. the hot chocolate was really good.

[romanceyourdemons]

a fantasy story where a wizard is given a statuette head in honor of their getting tenure. it’s more a tchotchke than anything else, but it’s a high quality tchotchke, and imported from foreign parts too, so the wizard keeps it on their desk and uses it to hold down letters when they open their window. then one day they get back from teaching a lecture and the statuette is gone. they contact the university’s department of rectification, and the department finds a janitor who claims she saw the statuette begin to shake violently before splintering into fragments, dissolving into fine dust before the fragments had a chance to hit the desk. the wizard is skeptical. if they had a magically affected item on their own desk for months without noticing, they wouldn’t deserve their own tenure. but then a curator from the university’s gallery of artifacts enters in a panic: several of their more expensive foreign items have vanished, shaking violently before splintering into fragments and dissolving into dust. the wizard’s curiosity is piqued, and their worry is awakened. consulting both the receipt for the statuette and the gallery’s records, they find that the statuette and the first of the artifacts to vanish were made in the same workshop, and each of the other artifacts originated from a steadily expanding region of the foreign parts. this is truly odd. the wizard studies the records for any mention of a spell that might do this, coming up with nothing, although an ancient book from foreign parts does disintegrate in their very hands. by now a petition has come in from a merchant city a hundred miles away, stating that a warehouse of very expensive imported fabrics vanished overnight, leaving nothing but impossibly fine dust. the wizard checks the origin of the fabrics and is not surprised with what they find. the university has a guest lecturer from the same country as these vanishing items, a slender, sharp-mustached man with a vast store of medical knowledge and an insufficient store of patience. he brushes off the wizard’s question with offense—he left his home country twenty years ago, what special knowledge does he have?—but after a pensive moment he adds that the letters from his mother have all vanished. he seems uncertain whether to shoo the wizard out or let them leave on their own, but before he can make up his mind a terrible expression crosses his face. he begins to tremble, violently. the wizard rushes to steady him, but the moment their hands meet his shoulders, his entire body bursts into meaty fragments, baptizing the wizard in gore that sloughs off in fine dust before it gets the chance to drip. as though he had never been. the wizard fights to refocus their eyes and mind; when they succeed, they see items in their deceased colleague’s office bursting and vanishing one by one—densely scrawled papers, delicately constructed medical equipment, even the elegant painting of the colleague’s mentor the brusque doctor had made with his own hands. the wizard is so old and so dignified, but they flee the room. across the campus, people are coming undone: students, faculty, staff, birds in the duck pond the wizard’s deceased colleague had loved to frequent. in the chaos, the wizard hardly bothers to ask permission to pack their staff and go wandering. they journey toward the foreign parts where this curse originated, tracking its progress in reverse as they go. items from that country are the first affected, and people from that country are next. those deeply intertwined with victims become victims themselves—now that the wizard thinks of it, the colleagues and students who they saw vanishing had all been patients of the guest lecturer at some point or another. as they travel further and further, the cities grow emptier and emptier, the fields more barren—if a farm was planted with imported seed at any point in the past twenty years, its crops have without exception crumbled away—and the wizard consults every school, sage, and recluse they can find, looking for an explanation. searching for a cure

[pawnshopbleus]

Miller's Girl - Part One

Professor!Joel Miller x Fem!College Student!Reader Very Loosely based off of the new movie, Miller's Girl, starring Jenna Ortega and Martin Freeman

Summary - Your landlord decides to raise the rent in your studio apartment the day you are fired from your job. In need of money, you sign up for a babysitting service your friend suggested. You didn’t expect to get an offer so quickly, and you also didn’t expect to come from your professor.

Series contains - cursing, mature language, teacher x student relationship, age gap, smut, fluff, angst, non beta read chapters and everything else I forgot to mention

College, no outbreak, and modern AU

The record store in downtown Austin was filled to the brim with people excited to have their items signed by their favorite band. The crowd was a mix of teen girls with their dads and middle-aged men on their lonesome. The band in question was some underground band from the eighties that you had never heard of. 

Your co-worker, Emma, was in charge of keeping the crowd in check while you were manning the register. This wasn’t the first time you had done these signings. In the two years that you have worked here, hundreds of artists have come in and out of those doors. They attract their loyal fans to the store which can give it more publicity and customers. 

Your eyes scan the crowd. It was still pretty full, but the line had stopped trickling out of the doors and onto the sidewalk. You look over at Emma to see her standing with her weight on her left hip and her arms crossed. If you didn’t know her, you would have thought she looked like a bitch, but in all actuality, she is the nicest girl you know. 

The doors open and the bell above it rings. Your boss comes in and surveys the store. His bald head nods as he skims it. Nothing had been stolen and the customers looked happy. When his eyes land on you, your heart drops. You know that look. It was the same look he gave your other co-worker that look right before he fired him. You cross your fingers under the counter and plaster a fake smile on your face. 

Your entire world looks like it’s in slow motion. Your boss steps closer. Each step he takes makes your heart thump in your chest. The sound his thousand-dollar shoes make on the floor sounds like the bombs used on the battlefield. 

You don’t know if you either blacked out or passed out, but the next thing you knew, you were in the staff room gathering your things. This would be the last time you would ever step foot in this record store as an employee, but that should have been the least of your worries. You needed this job. Without it, you won’t be able to afford rent. Luckily, you were smart enough to get a full-ride scholarship for the university you attended, but there were still other expenses that needed to be paid. 

The hallway of your apartment building seemed colder than it usually is. The usual shushing of dogs who aren’t supposed to be in the apartment is replaced with static. The crickets weren’t even chirping. The sound of your breathing brought you out of your tiny rut. At least you were still alive.

The pink paper in front of your door made you stop in your tracks. You could read what it said from where you stood. ‘Rent will be increased to a thousand dollars a month’ was typed out in Times New Roman. Only pretentious bitches type in Times New Roman. 

You were sure that this was the work of the couple that bought the building six months ago. They promised the residents who lived there that the rent would stay the same, but the promise had just been broken. You were worried for yourself, sure, but you were also worried about the elderly people who couldn’t afford to go anywhere else. 

You wish nothing but the worst for the new landlords and make your way into your studio apartment. It’s a mess, just the way you left it this morning. Your cat, Bill, lays outstretched on your couch as if he were the one who just worked eight hours only to get fired at the end of it. 

You flop on your couch and sigh. For the first time in a while, you don’t know what to do. You just got fired and your rent got increased. If you can’t pay rent then you’ll become another homeless college student. Just another statistic to the state and a burden to the university. 

Your phone chimes and you almost cry with joy as you see your best friend’s caller ID flash across the screen. 

You pick up the phone and she begins talking immediately. She goes on and on about some boy she saw a the mall. He had icy blonde hair, but his roots were showing which meant that he wasn’t a natural blonde. This was a good distraction for about a few minutes until you realized that you wouldn’t be able to afford to go to the mall anymore. 

Your hot tears dribbled down your cheeks and fell onto your chest. 

“Are you okay?” 

“Cherry, I just got fired from my fucking job because my boss wants to buy more fucking shoes and my rent just got fucking increased because my landlords are fucking bastards!” You say through tears. “I think I just heard you say ‘fucking’ in that one sentence more times than I have heard you say it in your entire life,” Cherry laughs. 

“It’s not funny, Cherry. I'm going to be homeless!”

“Stop being dramatic. Sign up for flowers for one dot com. It’s a babysitting website where single parents find a babysitter for their children. My cousin did it for about a year and made more money than she does at her regular job.” 

For the first time in a very long time, Cherry gave you actual good advice. She gave you a solution to all of your problems. 

“Thanks, Cher, bye.” You hang up before Cherry has a chance to say goodbye. 

Your phone drops onto the couch and bounces off, falling on the floor. You suck in air through your teeth and grab your phone off the floor. You should be more gentle with it because you can’t afford to get a new one if it breaks. 

Flowers for one dot com was a simple website. It got straight to the point. No fancy explanation of ‘who are we’ or ‘why do we do this.’  You include the fact that you are certified by the Red Cross in CPR and that you are a senior at The University of Texas at Austin. You also add that you are majoring in architecture and the fact that you want to become an interior designer. 

Your profile is up and running in an hour. You look over it again and close your laptop. Your life is falling apart piece by piece, but maybe you should clean up a bit. 

The dirty clothes that were being neglected in the corner of your room are now in your hamper. You can see the hardwood floor that you’ll be paying a thousand dollars a month for. 

Your phone chimes once again, but this time it’s an email from the website. You almost drop your phone again as you read who it’s from. 

Joel Miller, Professor of Architectural Studies at The University of Texas at Austin.

I'm the pretentious bitch that writes in Times New Roman 🙋🏿‍♀️

[foldingfittedsheets]

I have never had a post-coital headache, but I saw the ask and it made me think...

Orgasming using a vibe hurts my clitoris. It doesn't even touch my clit because it uses airwaves or something to vibrate the air around the clit, not sure. And I don't enjoy vibrators that touch the clit because it just doesn't feel like anything pleasurable? I can't explain it but it doesn't feel good or bad just kinda numbs me.

I'll be getting bottom surgery to nullify my crotch someday, so I guess it doesn't matter much, since I can limp along till then. I'll be tucking the clitoris and the nerve bundle under some skin and tissue and hopefully the padding will help offset the pain (and I could finally use those cute giant wand vibrators with the big buzzy ball), but I'm just asking in case you have ever heard of this and are willing to respond on your blog.

For the record, I don't enjoy using my hands on my clit, doesn't feel good and dysphoric and bothers my asexuality (I don't like touching genitals at all and the wetness feels icky). I grew up using the pressure and squeeze method. Basically ball up a blanket, press it to my pubis, and then do a very prolonged, overpowered kegel and there you go (kinda tiring tho). I didn't even know I had a clit growing up, always assumed it was the urethra because it hurt to touch (turns out it's supposed to be wet, thanks homeschooling for the lack of sex ed).

So I use the vibrator but I hate the vibrator. The moments before the orgasm is just so painful. And I have to immediately turn it off because the continued vibration causes even more pain and makes my muscles clench up in response which makes it very difficult to pull the toy away from my body. When using it with my partner I have to "tap out" and she'll pull it away for me.

I low-key believe the multiple orgasms for clit+pussy based anatomy is a myth because how could it possibly feel good to touch there once the orgasm has happened? Sometimes I can't close my legs completely for minutes. That shit is so sensitive and like swollen? Throbbing? Why?!?

I theoretically like orgasms. I like the quiet feeling after them. But getting there sucks, masturbating is unpleasant (apparently normal people enjoy the whole process, I'm just there for the afterglow), esp when it's a maintenance orgasm and I'm not horny or physically aroused (sometimes I just think that I need to orgasm without really wanting to if that makes sense, weird ace shit).

This ask is longer than I hoped it would be, but there's lots of important context and I honestly don't know why my body is like this, Google is useless (esp nowadays).

Okay there’s a ton to touch on here, but first: vibes are not one size fits all. Everyone’s body’s are different and motors come in different powers and pulses. The “cute” massage wand types are actually some of my least favorite because they just go cataclysmic in power which is way too much for 90% of clits. They just have good marketing.

If possible, you can look for a gentler vibe. Jimmy Jane Form 2 has a pulse setting that’s reallyyyyy light, and puts vibrations on either side of the clit instead of directly on it. But there’s a lot of shapes and sizes that could be gentler than what you’re using now.

If you’re unsure check out a store and try the vibe on the tip of your nose. This is pretty close to how sensitive your clit is and can give you a frame of reference for how much power you actually want. Generally lower rumbles are more expensive but also more pleasant so that’s a cost/benefit you can run.

The other aspect of this is that clitoral tissue is actually massive. There’s a lot of stuff going on under the hood, so to speak.

Clitoral nerves get everywhere! That’s the whole thing with G-spots- you’re still hypothetically applying pressure to nerve endings associated with the clit. I’ve heard anecdotally that they can end up in the anus too but I couldn’t find a source to verify that.

The takeaway from how sprawling all those nerves are is that there’s probably places you might like sensation better that directly on the clit. Most clit havers in my experience found that pretty overwhelming, myself included.

If your main business with your junk has been businesslike and unpleasant to touch it makes sense not messing with it much. If your partner is a person you trust to explore with you can just have them feel around and caress and see if other areas feel stimulating without being as overwhelming.

As for getting so throbby and uncomfortable afterward, and multiple orgasms: In my experience and anecdotally this depends how you get there. When you come fast and hard your body reacts differently than when you edge into an orgasm. You can try changing up your routine to see if this makes a difference for you.

Some people can never do multiple orgasms, it’s rare for me but does happen on occasion, so it’s worth noting that smut has a lot to answer for in terms of how normal they make that. If you can’t get off more than once it is what it is. It’s not a myth but it’s not everyone’s reality.

I hope this was helpful, good luck and as you say, eventually after surgery this will get easier for you!

[spooky-pomegranate]

Eyes on Fire (pt 5)

*Enemies to Lovers inspired by the Year Zero music video*

Papa Emeritus II x Reader (18+) Word Count: 3.8k Read on AO3 Get caught up: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 Next chapter: (Part 6)

Summary: You befriend a ghoul close to Papa Secondo and learn that appearances aren't always what they seem. Meanwhile, Secondo deals with new feelings that threaten to consume him.

(Dividers by @wrathofrats)

It’d been hours since you woke up in Secondo’s bedroom. He’d left you in a hurry not long after you’d risen, claiming he had “important duties to attend to,” but not before demanding you stay and rest for the remainder of the day.

You’d objected.

Even though you’d slept for ten hours you’d felt fine, albeit a bit disoriented and hungrier than a horse. The only thing you’d really wanted to do was scurry off to the ghoul dens and tell Mountain everything that had happened before crashing in his oversized bed.

But Secondo never offered you that choice.

“You will stay until I return sorrella,” he had said.

And to make sure you followed his orders, Secondo had called for Alpha to watch over you. You’d seen Alpha many times over the years but you had never actually talked to the quiet fire ghoul. He didn’t interact much with humans and the circle of ghouls he associated with was small. Omega. Crust. Occasionally Aero.

Primo summoned him years before you joined the church, but everyone knew where his loyalties truly lied. For as long as you could remember, Alpha had been Secondo’s right-hand ghoul. Day in and day out the two were an inseparable pair. There were of course rumors that the fire ghoul was Secondo’s secret lover but you never believed those whispers. It always seemed to you that Alpha followed Secondo around more like a loyal knight protecting his king rather than a groupie chasing after a Papa in shimmering robes. Duty and honor just felt more likely than love and lust.

But there was a plus side to being held hostage in Secondo’s chambers by the stoic fire ghoul. Before Secondo had left he’d given Alpha two commands. The first, annoyingly, was that under no conditions were you allowed to leave… but the second command was the one that had you smiling mischievously from ear to ear.

“While she’s here she wants for nothing,” Papa Secondo had said.

Wants for nothing…

There was no way, Secondo knew what he had done. It was like handing a kid the keys to the candy store. And ohhhhhh were you going to indulge, until your sweet tooth rotted. So far you’d tested the boundaries by ordering a ginormous breakfast. Eggs, bacon, fresh fruit, cinnamon rolls, hash-browns, bagels, salmon. Hell, you even ordered the expensive caviar the senior clergy had on hand for the more lavish parties. You’d ordered everything that the kitchen could make until it filled up almost the entirety of Secondo’s bedroom floor. The spread had been like a dream. Salty. Sweet. Savory.

With enough food to feed a small army, you’d stuffed yourself full and somehow managed to convince your captor to eat as well. Before long both you and Alpha were giggling and laughing as you passed platters of delicious food back and forth.

Surprisingly Alpha was more game to let loose than you’d expected. After breakfast, you’d asked him for half a dozen boquets of fresh flowers and he’d immediately called Primo’s greenhouse without complaint, even suggesting you up the number to a whole dozen.

You nearly died laughing when Mountain had answered on the other end.

“Twelve arrangements. To…to Papa Secondo’s chambers? Really? No. That’s no problem. And when do you need them? ‘As soon as we can.’ Okay. Yeah. No. No, we can do that. We’ll have them delivered in a few hours. Any preference in flower or color?”

Alpha had cocked an eyebrow at you then.

“Something pretty.”

“Something pretty,” he parroted with a smile into the phone.

At your request, Alpha also put in a call to have your record player delivered alongside a handful of your favorite albums and a set of large speakers. By lunchtime, almost every free surface of Papa’s chambers was covered in roses and lilies of varying colors and you were having a great time dancing with your new friend.

During a break in the music and as Alpha picked out a new record, you took some time to look around Papa’s space. His chambers had been… surprising. You expected Secondo to live in a cold and dark place. Something unwelcoming and offputting much like the man himself. But that wasn’t the case. Secondo’s space was beautiful.

Thick oriental carpets covered the cold stone floors and several warm-looking fur blankets laid on a leather couch by an onyx fireplace. Black candles outnumbered the few electric lamps scattered around, casting the room in a fiery glow. Every single piece of furniture looked comfortable and inviting like it was chosen for its purpose over its form. Soft lines, plush fabrics, and rich colors were everywhere.

There were also dozens of beautifully framed art pieces on the wall; sprawling watercolor landscapes of the Abbey’s grounds, a series of charcoal depictions of His fall from grace, and even a few portraits of his brothers from decades prior. Primo with more hair. Terzo with less wrinkles.

Everything about the space felt carefully curated and yet surprisingly lived-in. If it had been anyone else’s room you could have easily imagined yourself here at the end of a long day. Slipping your heels off to walk barefoot on the carpets, curling up on the couch with a glass of wine, letting the fireplace lull you to sleep. It all sounded nice until you remembered the man you’d have to share it with.

You turned away from an oil painting of the Abbey’s winter gardens and moved to the far left corner of Secondo’s room where a small mahogany desk sat. While everyone in the upper clergy had an office in the eastern wing, it was clear that Secondo liked to work from his room. And by the sheer volume of things on his desk, you guessed that work usually ran late into the night.

There were dozens of books scattered about. Some of them open to various pages. Others had hundreds of rainbowed colored plastic tabs sticking out of them. Under the piles of books, you noticed a stack of half-written sermons and lyrics. Immediately you recognized one song. Per Aspera Ad Inferi. It was the same Dew, Cumulus, and Aururoa had played for you in the dens.

As Alpha placed the needle on the next record, you shuffled through some more of Secondo’s unfinished lyrics, sliding pages under pages. Though each song was different, it was clear that Secondo was working on a cohesive work. Everything was heavy on religious themes and doctrines. Satan and his teachings were always at the forefront. There were no love songs. Nothing that spoke of joy or hope. Just dark, heavy verses focusing on reckoning and penance.

“Do you want to dance some more?” Alpha asked, crossing the room as a light jazz song played in the air. You nodded and met the fire ghoul in the middle of the room. Taking his clawed hand in yours the two of you began to sweep around the room in a playful airtight waltz.

“Alpha?” you asked, pressed against the ghoul.

“Yes, sorella.”

“Can I ask you about Papa?”

Alpha’s eyes quickly shot down to yours. “If you are going to ask if he and I-”

“No,” you interrupted. “That’s not. I wasn’t,” you stammered quickly. You didn’t want Alpha to think that you were a gossip. That wasn’t what you wanted to know. “Do you think if you made him angry enough that he’d actually send you back to…” You didn’t need to finish your question. Both you and Alpha knew there was only one place Secondo could return him to.

Alpha stopped dancing, clearly taken aback by the question. His hand froze against your back. “No.”

“Really? Are you sure?”

“Papa knows I am loyal to him.” Alpha's voice was firm, "He trusts me, perhaps more than he should. But I am bound to him, sorella, just as you are now bound here by his command."

“Why?”

Alpha turned away from you, a flicker of something unreadable crossed his face before it was gone. “Papa is misunderstood sorella. You might see anger and rage but there’s more there. There is always more.”

“But you’re sure? You’re sure he’d never do that to you?”

Alpha spun back around and looked down at you, cocking his head to the side, a reminder that sometimes ghouls were more animal-like than human. “Yes. I am sure. But why are you asking me this?”

“Well as lovely a dance partner as you are,” you smiled, “I think it’s time we let loose around here Alpha.” The fire ghoul's eyes twinkled impishly and you realized for as stoic as he’d appeared, Alpha was just as mischievous as you were. “Just two more questions. What's your favorite kind of alcohol? And can I borrow the phone?”

"I have a preference for absinthe," he replied, a sly grin stretching across his face. With a nod, he gestured towards the phone on the desk. You smiled back at your new friend and picked up the phone on Secondo’s bedside table.

“Good afternoon Cardinal Terzo. Yes. Yes, it’s me. I was wondering… do you have any absinthe?”

Secondo had a rough day.

He’d fired his assistant the moment she’d walked into his office and in her absence, his paperwork had piled high. He couldn’t blame the oblivious sorella for that though. She’d only been in his service for a month and had yet to figure out how he liked his coffee or how little he’d liked her idle chit-chat. Secondo knew even if he hadn’t fired her, she probably wouldn’t have helped make a dent in his work.

It was his own fault. He had been distracted.

All day he’d thought of you.

Again and again, he replayed the moment you’d woken up in his room. How small you looked in his massive bed, how terrified you’d been when you’d seen him watching over you, how you’d struggled to catch your breath before jumping out of his sheets. It was all he could think about.

Even after everything that happened Secondo still felt that the Old One had put you in his life for a reason. And while he was pretty sure it was because he needed to make you a better member of the church something was nagging at Secondo, pulling at the back of his mind, like a loose thread he couldn’t reach, that maybe… just maybe he was wrong about that.

But something was connecting you two.

Secondo could feel it. When he was with you he felt something dig in his chest. It was like nothing he’d ever felt before. It ached and burned and scratched at his insides but when he’d left you this morning… the burning fizzled away. The scratch, the ache all of it was gone. And for some strange reason, he missed it.

Was it another sign he wondered? To want to feel the pain? To need it? To be consumed by it? Sathanas how he wanted to feel it again. But was he supposed to want that? Was he turning into the masochist the siblings whispered he was for wanting that?

If only he could speak to the Dark Lord. If only he had some guidance he could know exactly what to do. If only…

No.

Secondo stopped himself.

As badly as he wanted to commune with the Dark Lord, wallowing in his self-pity wouldn’t solve his problem. He had to move forward. And he would.

He had a plan.

Secondo decided he would ask you to be his assistant again today. He wasn’t sure if you remembered the brief conversation he’d had with you about it before everything turned to shit last night. But he would ask you again. And he would phrase it as less of a choice. He needed you close. He may not be sure why yet. But he knew that he needed to feel that ache you caused.

Secondo sat at his desk, a glass of whiskey in hand, as he poured over the same text for what felt like hours until eventually the clock in the corner struck seven times. The day had come and gone. The pile on his desk remained and now it was time for dinner. Distracted by you, Secondo had skipped every meal and opted instead to snack on a handful of crisps and sweets he kept in his desk throughout the day. He wasn’t interested in going to the dining room now either. His Imperatrix could have the day off. He needed to get back to you. He needed to feel the ache.

But as Secondo stood to leave, he felt another kind of ache. His stomach growled, loud and long. He decided to make a quick pit stop at the kitchens before returning to his room. An hour later, balancing two dinner plates covered in silver cloches, Secondo carefully opened the door to his chambers.

He never expected what was waiting for him on the other side.

His room was full. Every square inch was covered in swaying warm bodies as up-tempo music pulsed from a pair of speakers by the door. Dozens of maskless ghouls danced and drank together out of red plastic cups. They smiled and laughed, singing along to the song blaring from the big black speakers. The smell of liquor and sweat mixed with something sweeter he couldn’t place.

And in the center of it all, was you.

You stood in the middle of his room, pressed tightly against Terzo. Secondo watched as his brother's hands roamed against the soft curve of your back and down your sides as he danced with you. The two of you moved lasciviously, chest to chest in tune with the pounding bass. Eyes locked on one another smiles beamed on both of your faces.

Secondo started to move forward but froze as Terzo dipped you low causing your hair, free from your usual veil, to cascade towards the ground like a waterfall. The crowd of ghouls around you whooped and hollered. Secondo heard Alpha let out a long wolf whistle from the other side of the room.

You laughed as Terzo set you back on your feet and whispered something briefly in your ear. Without missing a beat, you reached behind you, and grabbed a bottle of absinthe, taking a long swig before passing it to Terzo. A small river of the green spirit dribbled down the corner of your mouth, slicking your lips and landing on the white collar of your habit. Secondo’s jaw clenched as you laughed again, tossing your head back before wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

But then it was your turn to freeze. Like a deer caught in headlights every muscle in your body tensed as your eyes met Secondo’s.

And he felt it again. The burn. The ache. The pain he’d daydreamed of. It all slammed into Secondo’s chest until he felt ready to implode like a dying star.

For what felt like an eternity neither of you moved. Like two statues forced to face one another by a curator's judicious hand, the party continued around you. Bodies swayed and drinks flowed. One song ended and another began. It wasn’t until Terzo stepped in front of you, blocking his brother’s view, that Secondo dropped the twin cloches onto his entry table with a loud bang and every set of eyes in the room snapped in his direction.

“Out!” Secondo roared over the loud music. “Everyone out now!”

Alpha appeared quickly, ripping the speakers' cord from the wall. The music stopped abruptly. “I’m sorry Papa,” the fire ghoul started, “You said that she shouldn’t want for-”

“Go,” Secondo interrupted, without taking his eyes off of you. “I will deal with you in the morning.”

“Yes, Papa,” Alpha answered, tucking his tail between his legs before scurrying out of the room. The other ghouls quickly followed, quietly piling into the hall until only you and Terzo remained. You stood awkwardly beside Terzo, absinthe bottle still in hand. Secondo slowly walked toward you.

“Mi scuso, fratello.” Terzo's hand dropped from your waist as he gave you a little smirk and continued speaking in his native tongue, “Non sapevo lei ti appartenesse.”

You didn’t understand what Terzo had said, but you knew it had made Secondo angry. His temples flared and he swallowed hard, his adam’s apple bobbing heavy in his throat. Secondo stopped inches from Terzo, leaning over him until his younger brother had to crane his neck up to meet his glare.

“Le hai dato la chiave della sua stanza, idiota. Sai che è la mia Imperatrix,” Secondo said. His voice was even but you knew there was a controlled calmness that belied a storm raging beneath his surface.

You worried for Terzo.

You hadn’t meant to get anyone else in trouble with your little stunt. You’d only hoped to prove to Secondo that you weren’t something he could control while having a little fun at his expense. But of course, he would turn to rage. Secondo seemed to be the only person in this god-forsaken Abbey who hated fun.

But to your surprise, Cardinal Terzo seemed unafraid of his older brother’s anger. His smile widened and he laughed as he spoke, “Non è quello che intendevo, Secondo... conosco il titolo della sorella.”

“Parla chiaramente, fratello.”

“I am only saying,” Terzo began, glancing at you with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, “that I know her title. She may be your Imperatrix, but she dances like a diavolessa.” You felt a blush rise to your cheeks. “Non sapevo lei l'avessi reclamata per te stesso. Troverò altre bellissime sorelle con cui giocare. Vedo che lei è tua adesso. Non sei mai stato bravo a condividere, vero Secondo? Mi scuso.” With a final wink in your direction, Terzo swept out of the room, leaving you alone with Secondo.

“Coglione,” Secondo muttered under his breath before reaching for the bottle of absinthe in your hand and gently, setting it aside.

You hadn’t realized how grounding the bottle had been until you were left swaying on your feet without it. You could feel your pulse beat through each of your fingers as blood rushed everywhere but your head. Shit. How much of that stuff had you drunk?

“You have overstepped, sorella.” Secondo hissed. “My generosity has been taken for granted.”

“Generosity?!” you screamed, your voice cracking with frustration. “You locked me in here like a prisoner! You sent a literal beast from hell to make sure I couldn’t escape! And you want to call it generosity?!”

“You have used my position for your amusement today. No?”

“So what?!” you argued. “What’s the point of having all this,” you challenged, waving your hands around his beautiful room filled with food, flowers, and booze, “if you don't even enjoy it? Why have nice things? Why have whatever you want at your beck and call if you don’t even enjoy it?”

“Ostentatiousness is an offering to Him,” he replied stiffly, his tone brooking no argument.

“But aren’t you supposed to enjoy overindulging? Fucking hell, do you ever enjoy anything?!”

Secondo remained quiet, turning away from you and staring into the fireplace. You could have let things go then, but the alcohol had loosened your tongue and you were tired of holding back. You were never any good at it anyway, especially around him.

Fuck it.

“You just want everyone around you to be as pissed off and miserable as you are. You know I’ve never even seen Alpha smile until today? God, you don’t even fuck like you enjoy it!”

Secondo spun around immediately. His eyes blazed with fury. “Sit down,” he growled.

You sat immediately. You didn’t know why but you did. Even Secondo looked surprised before he regained his composure and stepped closer to you on the couch. His legs pushed your knees apart until he was standing in between your thighs. You slid back against the couch. The cool leather pressed against your neck, and you looked up at Secondo. You could smell him. Cologne and incense swirled around you. He leaned down, placing his hands against the couch on either side of your head, boxing you in.

“Do you think Sister Luciana enjoyed it? When I fucked her and you watched, crouched from the doorway like a piccolo topo. Tell me sorella do you think she enjoyed it?”

A lump formed in your throat. All you could do was spit out a vowel. “I…”

One of Secondo’s hands moved from the back of the couch to cup your jaw. His gloved thumb brushed across the supple plains of your cheek and you held your breath.

“You don’t think I could make you scream if I touched you like that?” he whispered softly. “You don’t think I could make you cum until you’ve seen the stars above?”

Secondo tilted your jaw up with his index finger and cocked his head to the side, parting his painted lips. Your eyes roamed over his face. Taking in every line, every fleck of paint, every small scar that dotted his chiseled face. Hot and humid, you breathed each other's air. He leaned closer again and you closed your eyes, bracing for the feeling of his lips against your own, anticipating the taste of him on your tongue.

And you let yourself want.

You wanted it. You wanted to taste him. To have him. To feel him. Maybe you’d gone mad. But anger and lust had never felt more like two sides of the same coin than in that moment.

But then everything faded away.

The hand on your cheek vanished. The smell of spice and wood disappeared. The warm slide of his legs against your inner thighs turned cold and you opened your eyes. Secondo had pulled away, taking a step back and standing upright. His eyes softened slightly before he turned his back on you and steadied himself with a long drawn-out exhale.

“I will see you in my office at 6:00 am tomorrow, sorella.”

You left Secondo’s chambers quickly after that, mind racing. What the hell just happened? Was that just another kind of power play from Papa? Or was it something else? Something different? When you’d been dancing with Terzo he’d looked at you differently. There’d been something there. Something hidden behind his paints and chiseled scowl. But what was it? And why did you care?

Lost in a haze of intoxication and your muddled thoughts you stumbled your way through the dimly lit corridors of the Abbey, and back to your chambers. Maybe if you’d left Secondo's room earlier, or had a few less swigs of Terzo’s absinthe, you would have noticed the pair of eyes that followed you from Papa’s chambers to your door. But the night was late and the shadows were long. You would have to deal with your stalker in the daytime.

Next chapter: (Part 6) Go back: (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4)

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