#have drawn him like a total of 5 times i think

[jadecantcreate]

I will sell you my absolute heart and soul if you draw Torbek in the bunny suit

the man, the myth, the legend: stinky playboy bunny bugbear

[deadsetobsessions]

Sea Cryptic!Danny Phantom- pt. 8

[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.3] [Pt.4] [Pt.5] [Pt.6] [Pt.7] [Pt.9] [Pt.10]

If I had a nickel for every time I’ve been to the hospital in the past three years, I’d have enough money to buy a bag of skittles from Target. Most of it wasn’t for me though lol I’ll add this onto the list in a bit, but I tend to do that from my desktop but I’m still currently attached to an IV drip. I’ve also never been this hydrated in my life lmao

——

Danny poked a puffed up pufferfish. The poison floated through his ghost form and did nothing but give him a little zap. Danny chuckled, wiping away a bit of oil that had gotten onto the fish from a nearby oil spill. Jesus fuck. Danny knew that bald headed, easily drawn Vlad wannabe from across the river would do something terrible to Gotham’s waters (not that it needed help being atrocious to Danny’s clean water appreciation).

The puffer fish- Danny gave up on understanding Gotham’s water ecosystem, having realized that it was a cursed mix of saltwater and freshwater and swamp- gave a fearful little wiggle and Danny let it go, turning to the oil particles floating around.

Danny took out his phone.

“Danny? Why the hell are you calling at three in the morning?”

Danny raised a hand and blasted out some ice, gathering the oil up. “Hey Sam. If I got you into contact with Poison Ivy, do you think you could team up to get rid of Lex Luthor’s new holding company in Gotham?”

“Danny, are you asking me to commit an act of ecoterrorism?”

“That’s not even the weirdest thing I’ve ever asked you to do.” Danny placed a hand on the ice mass and flew it, the oil, and himself across the river to Metropolis.

“Deal.” Sam’s voice gets further away as she pulled her phone from her ear. “I’ll text Tucker, see if he could futz with Luthor’s taxes. I heard her doesn’t even give his workers a livable wage, and that’s so not gonna fly.”

“Perfect! Thanks! We could totally meet up and hang out with my new friends!”

“Hah! That Tim guy? The one that wanted you to introduce Phantom to him?”

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, goth girl.”

“Sure, dork. I’ll swing by Friday?”

“Sure! Want me to pick you up?” Danny phased through Lex Luthor’s frankly ridiculous amounts of security measures, still completely invisible and towing a giant mass of oil covered ice.

“Cool. Now hang up. I actually need sleep.”

“Ah, you must be dead tired. I get it.”

Sam hung up, and a second later, Danny got a pic of her holding up a middle finger with her signature purple nail polish.

Danny stared down at the sleeping billionaire. Gross. He let his face re enter the visible spectrum and lowered the temperature of the room drastically. Luthor groaned, waking up as he shivered like a hyped up chihuahua.

Danny bared his teeth, glowing green skin reflecting the black holes of the universe and imploding stars and burning planets as he leaned towards the frozen two bit villain.

“RESPECT THE PLANET,” Danny snarled. He unmelted the invisible ice as he simultaneously made the oil visible, the entirety of the oil spill coating every single inch of Luthor’s penthouse bedroom. Danny winked out, but not before snapping a quick picture of Lex Luthor’s absolutely covered in his company’s oil spill.

If Danny had made sure that there were fish droppings mixed in with the oil… that was his own damn business.

——

Danny floated over to a brooding Batman.

“Do you have two hundred dollars on you?” Danny asked in lieu of a greeting.

Batman grunted a yes.

“Two hundred dollars for a photo of Lex Luthor being hit with karma.”

Batman instantly handed over the cash and received a printed out photo of Lex Luthor (in his Lexcorp pjs) covered by fossil fuel.

"Is this..."

"The oil from his oil spill? Yes."

Batman stared at the picture.

"Why was this more expensive than ID'ing corpses?"

"Cause it's funnier. And dead people deserve more consideration than a egg looking ass polluting everything he touches."

Superman zoomed into the space in front of them, face eager.

"I heard you had something about Luthor?"

Danny figured that Batman probably contacted the hero, and confidently said, "$200 for personal use, $300 for commercial use."

Superman quickly got together three hundred dollars in cash and quickly forked it over. Danny gave him another physical copy of the photo and a usb drive with the photo in a digital format.

"I am so pinning this up." Superman muttered.

"Get out of my city." Batman said flatly. Superman waved a hand, beamed at Danny, and left.

"Did you know Gotham's waters is a mixture of freshwater, swamp, and saltwater habitats?"

Batman grunted.

"Also, please stop stalking Danny Fenton. It's odd."

Batman swiveled his head over. "What."

Danny stared him down. "Stop. Stalking. Innocent. Bystanders. Or else I will recreate the phrase "drowned rat" with you as the subject."

Batman stilled.

"I don't kill, by the way. I can, however, dunk you in the sea and lift you up like a goth version of Simba."

Batman relaxed minutely. "I can't."

"And why not?"

Batman gave him a despairing look. "Have you met my children?"

"... Point."

[drabblejester]

Ratio, Sampo, Aventurine, Jing Yuan and Mr Reca overhead reader feels about them (basically reader has a crush on them)

how VARIOUS HSR GUYS would react to OVERHEARING YOU CONFESS!

requested by: anon :3

pairings: ratio, sampo, aventurine, jing yuan, and mr. reca x gn!reader

content warnings: none!!

comments: im devouring a pizza rn as of typing this. its so good.. this one is also in bulletted list bc i didnt get any specifications sorry my liege<3

AVENTURINE:

he overhears you talking on the phone in another room, probably to your friend. he isn’t one to eavesdrop but just this once…

he acts very calm about it, totally poker-faced to the point where you think he didn’t hear for WEEKS

until one night he asks you about it, and tells you to talk to him about it more later.

you fall asleep with him, and when you wake up, you tell him as promised!!

he still has to get used to people. y’know. liking him. so he’s a bit awkward for a while, but he warms up! sadly doesn’t soften up for a LONG while though

SAMPO:

he overhears you talking to an interviewer in belobog talking about a ‘handsome blue haired man’

first of all he is FLATTERED that someone in this cold world actually likes him. second of all he registers that someone likes him about 5 seconds later and panics a bit

truly, his whimsical and silly demeanor has captivated you! but it was meant to be for lying and getting away with things, not actual flirting. so he thinks he’s screwed

but he’s NOT screwed! he makes a plan to corner you later in the night to have a bit of banter, but you end up cornering him!!

you two talk for a bit, you talk about how cool and yummy he is. he says it back and you both end up having a great night! maybe a kiss or two persnaps…

DR. RATIO:

he accidentally peeks over your shoulder at your texts (god damn curiosity) and sees you panic texting someone about the Super Duper Hot Professor Man that just so happened to pass by you. and that’s now standing behind you.

now obviously you probably freak out because oh my gods thats the guy RIGHT BEHIND YOU. you turn around and stammer for a bit

sadly ratio just gives you a dirty look (not on purpose) and tells you to seek knowledge, not him. he winds up lecturing you about feelings and professionalism for a good 20 minutes

you go home and wind down for a bit to process the lecturing, and just hang out. you start to have some second thoughts about everything

until a nice little package arrives at your door, with a nice cooked meal and a note that’s a very passive aggressive way of saying ‘take care of yourself’

JING YUAN:

he overheard you gossiping with the guards, and nothing escapes his ears. he didn’t confront you about it right away of course, since he didn’t want to freak you out or anything

so instead, he just played the waiting game. he waited for weeks upon weeks, hearing all the thoughts you thought about him, and every little thing you tried to do to court him

and he’s flattered!! very flattered actually. he decides to eventually send a guard out with a hand written letter to you, simply saying to meet him at a restaurant he found out you frequented

you two meet there, talk for a bit, but not as a general and you. you talk like strangers but in the best way possible, getting to know even more about eachother!! you eat some yummy food and chitchat the night away

and eventually he brings you back to his place, settling you down with some tea and light snacks. maybe a few long-drawn stories to help you sleep. sadly (or thankfully) he ends up asleep before you, so you have extra time to admire him :3

MR. RECA:

he finds out through social media! you broke his ‘no recording in the studio’ rule, posted a blurry video somewhere, and went absolutely crazy over him in the caption

he’s upset that you broke his rule, but at the same time. thinks its interesting. he doesn’t do much else except revisit the post once more before meeting with you

you two meet up in his office, and he immediately brings up the post. of course you apologize so so hard about breaking the rules, but he waves it off!!

eventually the conversation ends up circling around to emotions (with a bit of help from memokeepering), and you spill all your thoughts and feelings right then and there. he’s slightly shocked, but it soon turns to a smile before politely telling you to leave his office

you’re definitely nervous, but it all fades away once you find out you’ve been casted in the main role alongside him! for better or for worse though, it’s a romance production. that asshole.

im fucking up this pizza rn my lieges its so yummy

[theambitiouswoman]

I have been celibate for 3+ years & I wanted to share how this has helped shaped who I am.

Disclaimer: This is not me telling you what to do with your life and your bodies. It comes with zero judgement. I am of the belief that there is a season for everything, and we evolve into many different people in our life. I would be remiss if I didn't say that I definitely think it's a good idea to practice it. I do believe that psychologically, spiritually & emotionally having casual sex has a lot of negative implications for both men and women. However your beliefs around intimacy are purely up to you. Sex isn't bad, that's not what I am saying, but when you are having sex with someone you are absorbing their energy, and the energy of their past lovers too, so having sex with the wrong person can really ruin you.

Honestly the idea of anyone touching me if they do not meet my needs emotionally, mentally, physically etc absolutely disgusts me. I have never been of the type of let anyone "have me" but even more so now. Remember that when you start treating yourself differently, your perspectives and the things you are attracted to also start to change.

Maybe some girls don't understand this so I am going to say it. You do not have to sleep with a man for him to like you, love you, treat you well, or buy you things. If you haven't experienced this, you may not agree. But this is my reality and the reality of so many others, so yes it is actually totally possible.

I will say that the first year can be difficult but after that it gets much easier cause your mindset changes. I recommend taking that first year to really dive in and analyze your relationships, work on your wounds etc. Feeling lonely is something I see come up a lot, and while human beings are not designed to be alone, you should not feel lonely and that is probably a good starting point to work on with yourself if that is the case.

Anyway, these are some of the changes I have experienced:

1. Greater mental clarity and can focus more on personal goals, career & self development.

2. Reduced emotional turbulence. Creating better emotional balance and inner peace.

3. Realizing self love and self worth come from you, rather than seeking external validation. It reduces stress, increases self awareness & provides identity outside of others.

4. Higher standards, better boundaries. Intimacy is a choice, not a necessity. Being unable to control your lust is a weakness. Understand that falling in love purely through sex is lust, wounds and attachment / abandonment issues, need for validation, insecurity etc.

5. Insane increase to intuition.

6. Gives you control over your body and life. It allows you to be more selective about who you let into their personal space.

7. Increased creativity & passion to channel into art, projects, or other personal endeavors.

8. For those recovering from past trauma or heartbreak, celibacy can be a time for healing and self reflection. It offers the space to process emotions, heal old wounds and rediscover yourself.

9. No energetic enmeshments with toxic souls, which btw you are absorbing all of it. Grosses me out any time I think about it.

10. Even prettier than before (but i'm sure not entertaining toxic men and drama contributes to that as well)

11. People are even more drawn to be because of my strong sexual energy & pure aura.

[superm4ks]

max's best drive ever?

Not just Max's, but 1 of the best drives in the history of the sport, definitely 1 of the finest ever driven on the intermediate tire. The way he made those tires perform on a wet resurfaced track where theres no mercy found in the white line, no rubber to build on, no drs, no easy overtake, just better cornering, that natural ability to take turns as if the racing line was drawn in front of him that is so his and so so devastating. People watch Austria and Mexico and c recklessness where theres only strength, control and complete lack of fear. In races like todays tho, u get to admire those same hands command the same respect without any room for doubt that he knows, in fact, what hes doing. Any advantage the machines may provide will dwindle and nearly dissipate because in conditions like todays it truly comes down to who knows better. And Max knew better from the moment the lights turned green. I think six cars before the main straight, dispatched, turned to nothing. When conditions worsened and race control began to play wid outcomes he not only endured, he thrived. While others began to pit he trusted himself to stay out, and he wasnt the only one but he was the 1 who did it best. 8 years ago, Max went and found grip everywhere else, and today, in the same circuit, where there was literally no grip to be found, he simply found the better line. He read the race like his favorite book while others could barely color within the shapes. It was somewhat insane to watch tbh, that disparity between racers, not only found in overtakes like on Oscar and Esteban, so crucial and so similar in the way he just knew how to position the car to catch them completely off guard, but also like, the pace alone, the relentless onslaught of perfect lap after perfect lap, 9 consecutive I think, 17 in total. This was a drive that nearly eclipsed 2023, first shades of last year without Newey in the pit wall, in a car that did so badly in Mexico it was getting outpaced by an Haas in its strongest tire. He didnt just come out from p17, he came out of a 20 second penalty, a 5 second penalty during a delayed VSC, an hammer to his quali chances for a late red flag, community service for swearing, shameless questioning of his driving, his wheel, his credibility as a champion, not just his racing but his character, too. I think its the context of all that that rlly makes the best drive of his career so far, because this was his best possible answer, and the only one that matters. p17 to p1 wid a 20 second lead. Some will reminisce about Senna, some will notice that early corner entry and admit Schumacher himself wud have struggled even a few times, the other legend on track whos as good in the wet didnt have the setup nor the confidence to show it, but I think today was a result only Max Verstappen cud have accomplished

[boundbyeclipse]

hiii can you write smut number 5 with current James????

black velvet

genre : smut

word count : 1227

tags : current!james, female!reader, age difference (not specified how much), reader is a tattoo artist, a little rough james, semi-public sex (i think?), that’s about it

from the prompt list : 5. “don’t cover your mouth. i wanna hear you”

a/n : sooo i saw a photo of James getting a tattoo done and i thought hey, that’s a perfect idea for one of my requests! it really stuck to me and i had to write it. i really hope you enjoy this one x

‘Poison’ by Alice Cooper played in the background after you returned from your dinner break at work. You hummed along to the lyrics while lightly bopping your head to the beat. You absolutely loved rock and metal, so the playlist used at work always consisted of bands who did exactly those genres. It always gave you motivation and boosts for some energy, no matter if you were sad, angry or irritated.

While preparing for your next client, the sound of the entrance door opening and closing reached your ears. Technically, it was just a bit too early to show up, but hey, this one’s a regular and you didn’t mind at all.

“Hey there” you greeted him while putting some black gloves on your hands.

“Hey. Mind me showing up before I should?”

You gave him a warm smile, shaking your head left to right.

“Nope. You can come take a seat actually, I’ll go print out the tattoo and get more ink”

“Alright” James smiled back, hanging his jacket on the rack and making his way to the big, comfortable leather chair. He watched you walking around and you didn’t quite pay any attention to him, at least at first. Or, you just didn’t want to.

No matter how many times you’ve done tattoos on this man in the past few years, there has always been some sort of a tension between you both. It wasn’t anything like what you’ve had before with other men. They might have complimented you, made you smile, even blush, but none of them put you in such a vulnerable position with their presence alone. And there have been many times where his eyes would pierce right through you in the middle of getting his skin drawn on, creating the impression of him wanting to do some things to you. The lust was purely emitting from him the whole time. And you cannot forget about those moments when his fingertips would brush against your skin, making you shiver and think of scenarios in your head that were not so innocent. Sure, he was much older than you, but that didn’t stop either of you from craving each other every time.

Not too long after, you were already seated next to James, with his hand extended out as you were drawing lines on his skin.

My, oh my, did those large hands of his drove you insane.

“You got any more people coming after me?” he suddenly asked, his blue eyes hinting at something.

“Nope, you are the last one today. Puts my mind at ease knowing my last client is a regular. No need to overthink”

One side of his mouth curved up into a small smirk.

“Are you sure your mind is at ease? Because I can feel you’re all tensed up”

You swallowed and bit your lower lip hard after he said that. Trying to hide your growing frustration, you giggled.

“Maybe I am, I’ve been here since seven in the morning, you know”

He cocked an eyebrow up, not quite believing what you were saying. James could clearly see how you bit your lip, adjusted in your seat and giggled due to getting thrown back by his comment.

“It’s kind of easy to tell that it’s not because of the work. You don’t need to hide it”

Your breath hitched in your throat, and your body froze for a moment before you looked up at him and asked.

“What do you mean?”

“I know you secretly think about all the possible ways I could use my hands on you,” you could not believe what he just said, but it was totally true, “it’s written all over your face. Even your body language gives it away with how you shake, squirm in your seat, how you breathe heavier when I’m around. I know you think of me”

“James, don’t-“

“Just finish the tattoo first, then you can explain yourself”

Not even ten minutes later, you had your body pinned against the door of your break room, with no way to escape the tall man who hovered over you. His hands roamed your body while he kissed your neck, sucking on the sensitive spots to make you even weaker. The way he held you by your hip against the door made you so vulnerable and so turned on, that you could not help but moan into the heated kiss.

With one swift move, James opened the door behind you and the both of you walked backwards, still all over each other until the back of your calves hit the lounge couch that was in the room. James helped you with taking your shirt off, leaving you in a black lace bra. You sat down and watched James from below, eyes full of desperation and need, looking right into his own. He removed his shirt and tossed it away, unbuckling his jeans and unzipping them, then hovering above you as he laid you down slowly, but with rough kisses and a tight grip on your waist.

Your hand reached into his jeans and you cupped him through the fabric of his underwear, giving it a couple squeezes as James groaned in response. He was big, thick and hard, and you could feel yourself getting so wet that it started to hurt. You really needed him.

With no clothes left on your bodies, he was now inside you, moving his hips as he watched your face, loving the way your eyes rolled back with each thrust. The way your back arched, your naked bodies touching against each other, it put you in such a trance. Every second of it - you just loved.

With your moans becoming louder, you felt a little embarrassed, and your hand found its way to your mouth to silence yourself. But James wasn’t going to let you hide.

“Don’t cover your mouth. I wanna hear you”

Carefully, he took your hand and now had both of your hands pinned above your head. Your moans filled the room as you wrapped your legs around his waist, wanting to feel every single inch of his length in you. Almost to the point where you could barely take it.

“I can’t- I can’t take it”

“Yes, you can. Just hang on for a little bit more for me, okay?”

You gave him a nod in response, eyes watery and lips parted as you breathed heavily, your high hitting you right then and there. It happened so quickly, that you could not even tell James that you were close.

Another moan slipped out of his mouth as you coated him in your juices, your walls pulsing whilst he was still inside you, able to feel everything.

“Almost there” he told you as he gave you his final thrusts before pulling out and cumming on your stomach. Both of you were panting, with small beads of sweat on your foreheads and hair all messed up. But as soon as you got your breathing back to normal, it was time to clean up and go home. Though, James just wasn’t quite keen on leaving you so soon.

“I’ll give you a ride back home, so don’t worry about taking a bus in this weather” he gave you a warm smile as he put his jacket on and waited for you at the entrance door.

[starheavenly]

hiii!!! loving your locket comics!!!!!! just wanted to ask a few questions about your process, if you dont mind :D

whats your general process like?

do you do thumbnails, how do they look like?

roughly how long does it take you to complete a comic panel or page?

how detailed are your sketches? do you do multiple?

do you have any specific techniques for lineart?

do you typically use references for your comics?

generally, how much effort and focus do you put into your comics?

do you have any advice for drawing comics?

sorry for for the absolute bombardment of questions, lmao. just really enjoy your art and comics and very interested in the behind the scenes!! feel free to skip any questions (or this whole ask) well wishes and salutations!!! :D

Hello! I'm so glad you enjoy my comics, and I totally don't mind breaking down the process!

For a normal comic page, I would likely actually write a script since it's much easier to keep track of dialogue and actions. But since these are short, I just write it into my thumbnails.

Step 1: Thumbnails. Easily one of my favorite parts, since I get to throw all my ideas down. I do these comics on a 2-panel grid, so I don't have to worry about actual paneling, and it allows me to focus more on the setup of each shot. Think of it like storyboarding!

Step 2: Add cleaner thumbs if needed. I actually made 3D models of Deadlock and Ratchet's chest in Blockbench, so I often trace them to save myself some time! (It might look insane, but I promise, for me, it's not.)

Step 3: Lettering! I actually like to get the lettering out of the way right away since it can take a while. Ever since I started treating lettering as its own form of art, my skills have gotten better, but it also takes much longer.

Step 4: Clean sketch! I'm just now finding out that people think I’m doing lineart for these? I am not… these are all just clean sketches. Maybe doing the blackwork gives the illusion of lineart?

Step 5: Color! Most of these comics are in black and white to save time, but it also lets me focus on values and shot framing again. I add my glow overlay to the eyes, and boom, done!

Roughly how long does it take you to complete a comic panel or page?

It really depends on how complicated the panels are. I like to step out of my comfort zone. I know the Grimlock and Misfire one took longer because of how many panels there were and the fact that I was drawing characters I’d never drawn before, but I’d say it usually takes around 5-8 hours for a whole page.

Do you typically use references for your comics?

I'm literally the reference GOD- we all know this. But yes, I love using references and doing character studies. I have yet to do a study on LL Drift, but I have a few references of him that I’ve made.

Generally, how much effort and focus do you put into your comics?

I mean, I wouldn't say I don't put in a lot of effort? I put in enough. I don't know�� there's a point in the clean sketch process where you can kind of just turn off your brain. I'm passionate about comics, but we can all agree there's a point in a drawing where you just zone out.

Do you have any advice for drawing comics?

I think being able to balance dialogue and visuals is super important. I don't know if you guys have picked up a graphic novel from Barnes & Noble recently, but if you open a page, you'll see a character sitting with the biggest bubble you've ever seen, filled with paragraphs of text. While I get it—being a novel as much as it's graphic—I personally like to visualize emotions more. If it means adding two more panels to make an interesting dialogue setup, I don't mind doing it. Another thing to remember is that not all panels need to have details or 100% effort. Sometimes you need to simplify and move on, and that's okay! Those two extra panels that are giving you a better stage setup might be the ones that need fewer details and less time. I would consider my comic page work and my 4-panel work very different. One is about paneling, setup, and visuals, while the other is very much like storyboarding. Both are skills you learn with practice and study.

[yuri-is-online]

Hi! Congratulations on getting more followers! You totally deserve it:)

Can I ask for prompt 5 with Floyd, Idia and Leona?

Thank you<3

5. Jealousy pt.1- seeing their partner wearing someone else's jacket

（＾ワ＾） thank you annon, your words mean a lot. Of course you can! how did i know Floyd was gonna get this prompt

notes: they/them pronouns used for Yuu, miscommunication and jealousy but everything ends happy. Check out the rest of the event requests here.

Floyd

Floyd unceremoniously dumps you off his in a secluded corner of the gymnasium hallway.   “Shrimpy…" he whines, yanking on the hem of the used gym shirt you are wearing as he uses his other arm to cage you against the wall "where did you get that shirt?” “From the laundry basket in your room this morning?”  He had stolen your blazer a few days ago to as a joke so you had impulsively decided to pay him back by snatching something of his. He's always whining about wanting you to wear is clothes anyway, why is he so upset? “It’s yours isn’t it?” “Nah.” Floyd's lips purse in displeasure.  “Nah, that's Jade’s not mine.  If ya look, he has his name written in stupid little letters on the tag.”  Oh.  OH.  Well, now you just feel stupid and fix your eyes firmly on his shoes. How could you be so stupid? Of course, some of Jade's clothes would be in the room's ONE laundry basket. Hell, you aren't actually sure Floyd uses the hamper now that you think about it. You take a deep breath, bracing yourself for the teasing as you look up prepared to apologize, only to completely lose your train of thought at the sight of Floyd yanking his jersey over his head. “FLOYD!”

“Huh?  What’s wrong lil shrimpy?" A very sharp grin emerges from the cloth, though he doesn't bother to take his arms out of the shirt just yet. "I'm on the bench aaaaaaaany way ‘s not like I need it.” “You’ll be cold!” It's the wrong argument to make when he practically has you pinned to the wall. “No I won’t,” he giggles, good mood blown back to life by the flames of your embarrassment “and if you’re that worried just stay here and squeeze me.”

Idia

"You're seriously too unaware for your own good." Idia mutters, wrapping himself further into Jack's jacket as you try to hide yourself in his hoodie. The outline of his hair flickers a gentle pink as the two of you try your best to avoid looking at each other.

"He was just worried about me being cold because I wouldn't stop sneezing during class." Idia's sweatshirt smells surprisingly nice, and once you get the courage to look up at your boyfriend he doesn't look bad in the regular uniform jacket either. Though you have to admit, he is at his cutest when he is comfortable and he definitely is not right now.

"We aren't in the same classes so I miss out on time limited quests like that, huh." He mutters, reaching up to fidget with his headphones while you wonder if touching him would spook him too much. "It's almost like everyone forgets we're together."

"I'd never let them do that!" You decide to risk it, wrapping your arms around Idia's torso in a loose embrace he can escape if he needs to. It forces him to really look you over, taking in the full sight of you in his hoodie and a deep, deep breath.

It makes his hair explode into a beautiful hot pink display.

"On second thought take it off." He squeaks, jumping back from your hug and burying his face in his hands.

"Idia-"

"Quick, I can't handle this much agrro!"

Leona

There is an angel at rest in the furthest corner of the NRC library. Their head is firmly smashed against a text book, leaving a clear dent in their cheek that is threatening to turn into a series of paper cuts. Anyone would look at them and be drawn in...

Which was precisely the problem. Someone had forgotten they had a much more comfortable place to nap and a much more comfortable partner than a stack of old books, and hadn't gone looking for him, forcing Leona to do some work for once. And good thing he decided to go on patrol too, some small brained herbivore had decided to try and push in on his territory. As if sensing his presence, you stir in your sleep slightly and Leona suppresses a smile. Barely.

"Oy." Leona bats the offending jacket off from around your shoulders, resisting the urge to turn it to sand, reminding himself that would be petty and beneath him.

Exactly where that jacket was right now.

"Leona?" You murmur sleepily, trying to resist the temptation to rub your eyes. His heart clenches painfully in denial of how cute you are.

"What are you some sort of cub? Making me come looking for you like this." His insults make you smile for some reason as you reach to shove your books back into your bag blissfully unaware of the jealousy storming behind them.

"Let's go take a nap," you hum, well aware those are some of Leona's favorite words "I had a really nice dream about you, wanna actually wake up in your arms next time." Well now, Leona certainly isn't going to argue with that.

[skippingstonez]

Hello and welcome, it's so exciting to see a new LU x reader blog. If you're ready, I have a request for our favorite gremlin Legend.

While the others are teasing Legend for his newly pink hair after the bunny transformation, Reader (who Legend has a crush on) tells him they actually really like it and they think he looks cute. Cue even more teasing from the others (who know about his crush) and maybe some not-so-subtle pushing for him to confess

I love the idea of the rest of the Chain finding out one of them has a crush and just being such little shits about it

(I was going for something soft and fluffy since you don't have a full rules list posted yet, but if anything about it makes you uncomfy, thats totally fine! Take care of yourself!)

I feel like this one took a long time cause I had to write it like 5 different times since Sky kept being too much of an ass. Anyways, I figured it went perfectly with our already recently turned bunny boy <3

Bunny Bonding

(Legend x hare!Reader) Chapter 1/ 2/ 3

A man, a hero nonetheless, can only be called ‘pinky’ so many times before he snaps.

Legend clenched his jaw, fists tight against the strap of his sword as he tried to resist the urge to light the camp on fire. Between the constant jabs at his hair, it seems Sky and Twilight were determined to use as many bunny related references and jokes they could think of without the others catching on.

“You okay there Ledge?” Sky mockingly asked. “Head feeling a bit fuzzy?” Twilight nearly started howling as Legend glared at them. Planning out the perfect way to get away with murdering them both without Time finding out.

“Oh would the two of you knock it off already?” 

Legend looked up right as you began making your way over to him with a plate of food in each hand. You hand one over, sitting down beside him.

“Ignore them, they're just trying to crawl under your skin.”

“Uhh, excuse me I think you mean burrow” Sky laughed so hard he nearly choked on his food. Twilight and Wild joining in.

“I hope you all know you sound like a slaughtered pig.” You retort.

“At least their hair doesn't look like one.” Winds voice shouts out.

Everyone erupts into laughter, save you and Legend who is now burying his face into his knees. You rub your forehead, totally, and completely done with the lot of them as you part Legends back sympathetically.

You sat with him for a while, letting the others break off into other conversations until the focus is no longer on the hero sat beside you. The sun finally falling just beyond the trees to cast a golden glow through the leaves as some began to clean up.

“Hey Ledge?” 

He looked over to you, waiting for you to continue.

“I know you don't really like it but for the record?” Your hand came up to brush through his hair gently. “I prefer it this way.”

Legend was so still he wondered if he had activated his bracelet by accident. You tilted your head, the admiration in your eyes so startling that Legend sucked in a short breath. Your hand slowly grazed down the side of his face, sending a sharp shiver straight to his core. His hand slowly moved to hold yours, still pressed against his face.

“Really?”

You nodded, thumb brushing against his cheek. “It suits you.”

Legend struggled to process your words. No one had ever complimented his hair before, let alone the rather unnatural color he had been trying to hide since a child.

A high-pitched, drawn out whistle rang out and you ripped your hand away. Heads snapping to where Wars, Wild and Time were staring right at the both of you. 

“Oh don’t mind us,” Wars said casually, “Didn’t mean to interrupt your little moment.”

You rolled your eyes, getting to your feet with a small glance back to Legend. Your lips curved in the smallest smile that made Legend feel like it was made just for him. He wanted all your smiles to be that way. For him to be the reason behind each and every one.

“I'm gonna go wash up, Wild watch my stuff would ya?” The champion nodded as you walked off, flicking Wars on the forehead as you went. Legend slouched back against the tree behind him, not taking his eyes off you until you had completely disappeared from view. Even then he stared at the spot for what felt like minutes, searching for any hint of your return.

“Well?” Time asked, looking at Legend expectantly. “Are you gonna go after her or not?”

Legend glared, “ What kind of question is that!? No im not gonna follow her! I'm not a creep!”

“For the love of Hylia Vet!” Wars groaned, tossing his head back to exaggerate his point. “Please put an end to this train wreck that is watching the two of you flirt around each other!”

Legend's shoulders shot up towards his ears. “We are not!”

“So just now when you nearly kissed her? That wasn’t flirting?” Time challenged and Legend mentally cringed. There was no way he was having this conversation right now. Especially not with these three.

“You need to get your eyes checked, Old Man because that's not what was happening.”

“Oh? And what about the other day when you two were literally all over each other?” Wild added, holding up his Sheikah slate as if it was all the proof he needed. 

That. Fucking. Traitor.

Even if he did have proof, he wouldn't dare show it in front of the others would he? Would he!?

“What? You've been holding out on us!?” Wars said, grabbing for the slate just barely out of his reach.

“That was different and you know it!!” 

“Collector, all we are trying to say is that we think the two of you should be honest. With yourselves, and with each other.” Time advised.

“Otherwise we're locking ya in a room together until you are.” Wars added, avoiding the smack to the head from Time. 

____________

Legend laid on his back, staring up at the night sky, trying to find something to distract himself from his thoughts. He turned to the right, being met with only Hyrule’s back before tossing onto his other side. 

He thought through his inventory, mentally trying to keep track of anything he would need to restock next time they stopped near a town. Maybe he could convince Time to let them stay at an actual Inn while they were at it, even if it meant sharing beds to save on money. He wondered if he could ask to share with you. Wars did say he would lock them- 

He sat up, rubbing at his face to clear his brain for the thousandth time. His eyes grazed over the rest of the sleeping bodies scattered around the clearing. Wind was the only one who slept mostly on his own. Likely because he sometimes slept like a starfish and no one wanted a smack in the face in the middle of the night. Sky seemed to have pulled Four and Warriors into a cuddle pile. One that you seemed to narrowly miss from where you were asleep just beyond Warriors. Twilight was tucked under Time’s arm across the way, the two of them a bit closer to the fire having fallen asleep there by accident. Legend could only imagine the neck pain they would have tomorrow. 

He quickly looked around, noticing Wild, who was on watch currently, distinctly absent. Which either meant he was scouting around or knowing him, was up in a tree somewhere. Legend scanned over everyone again, making sure everyone was truly asleep before bringing his attention back to you. 

You were laying on your side, curled up under your blanket comfortably. Your hair was messily tossed around you. Legend chuckled at the thought of you pouting with Wild as you tried to untangle it in the morning. He propped his head up on his hand, eyes lazily trailing over the soft features of your face before focusing in on your lips. The way they occasionally twitched upward as if thinking of him something pleasant. A shadow of how they were earlier when you looked at him. He wondered what they would feel like pressed against his own-

He fell back onto the ground with a huff, gripping tightly onto his hair. The same hair your hand had touched. He forced himself to think about anything else besides the events of the past few days. Settling to count through his rings, which items he should switch out if given the chance and definitely not about ways to get you to smile again. 

______________

Legend dodged out of the way, a sword striking the ground where he just was. He gripped his sword, turning to run it through the midsection of the bokoblin. Blood splattered his hand as he pulled back, spinning to strike at another creeping up behind him.

An arrow flew by, barely grazing his biceps before a cry rang out behind him. He whipped around, taking in the large Moblin that you and Sky had been working to take down. The way your sword dropped to the ground as you gripped for the arrow now lodged into your arm. Sky rushed towards you only to get sent flying when the Moblin’s club slammed into his gut.

“(Y/N)!” He gave a blow to the other bokoblin before sprinting across the field towards you. The Moblin looming over you as you tried to scramble away, eyes wide as it raised its club. He shot as much of his magic as possible into his boots, begging to go faster, to reach you in time!

It was Twilight who got to you first, blocking the club as it swung down on you. Legend ducked, slashing at the thing's legs aggressively as he passed by, placing himself directly between you and the creature. Legend reached for his bow, aiming right for its eyes as Twilight darted forward. He spares a quick glance at you still on the ground. Why weren't you getting up? Had you gotten hit and he hadn't even realized it?

He narrowed his eyes, sending an arrow straight into one of its eyes. It stumbled back, giving Twilight an opening to reach up and jab his sword right into its neck. It roared as it crumbled to the ground in a large heap. Legend quickly assessed for any more enemies, seeing none as Wars jogged over to them, quickly kneeling in front of you. 

“This is gonna sting” he barely warned before pulling the arrow out. You bit back a cry and Legend gritted his teeth at the sound.

Wars wrapped it quickly, giving you a sip of a red potion. “You okay?”

You nodded, eyes trained on the ground. Legend took in the way your hands trembled in your lap. You got up, arms wrapping around yourself as you continued to stare at the ground. “I..i need a sec.”

You quickly walked off and Legend had to force his legs to not run after you. He looked back to where Twilight was helping Sky off the ground.

“Did something happen during that fight?” Legend immediately asked. You weren't one to freeze in the middle of a fight nor seem so shaken up afterwards.

Sky just shook his head. “No, everything was going well until the arrow.” He explained dusting himself off.

Legend looked back to where you had gone off, taking a small step in the direction as Wars walked past.

“I'm gonna go check on her.” He said, walking after you. Legend's stomach twisted in disappointment.

The rest of them sat around, cleaning off weapons while they waited for the two to come back. Each minute that went by made Legend’s anxiety only grow. Constantly checking to see if you had come back.

“Stop frettin Ledge, I'm sure your kit will be back any sec.” Twilight reassured him, a small chuckle in his voice.

Legend glared at him, Sky looking between them with wide eyes and a matching smile.

“No way!” Sky shouted in excitement. “Oh my gosh she's a-”

“Don't. You. Dare finish that sentence.” Legend snarled.

“Oooh my gosh that's perfect! Hylia, how did I not see that? It's so obvious!” Sky laughed and Legend’s vision was turning red. It was one thing to let them make fun of him but if they thought for a millisecond that he would let them tease you about it they were sorely mistaken.

“Calm down Vet, goodness for someone who insists that there ain't anything going on between the two of ya, you sure are protective.”

“Are you serious!?” Sky shouted again and Legend was about to chuck his sword at him. “Dang it, I owe Four 30 rupees.”

“For what!?”

“Well the two of you have been so close recently I thought you finally said something and got together!” Twilight burst out laughing while Legend just stared at Sky.

“You deserve to lose them then cause there isnt anything going on!” Legend crossed his arms. Ignoring the heat rising to his face.

“He's kidding right? Twi please tell me he's joking.”

“‘fraid not bud.”

“Ledge, buddy. If her literally being a rabbit isn't enough of a sign for you, I'm afraid you're doomed.”

He was ready to tell Sky in great detail who exactly was going to be doomed when he heard footsteps approaching. He jumped to his feet, heart threatening to break through his ribs until he could see you. And when you finally came into view? 

It shattered.

Wars gently led you back, looking just as worried as when he left. Your arms were still wrapped tightly around yourself, the only difference being your eyes. They were red, the skin underneath wet and puffy as though you had been crying.

Legend bolted for you. Hands grabbing your face as he scanned for any signs of further injury.

“You okay bun?” 

Your eyes shot to the other 3 behind him before returning to the ground so quickly Legend almost missed it. 

“fine…” You weren't. Even if your voice wasn't shaking as much as your hands, or your eyes weren't threatening to spill more tears, Legend just knew you weren't okay. 

“Bullshit, what's wrong?” He whispered, his thumb running just underneath your eye to wipe away any potential tears.

“I…” another quick glance to the others before you grabbed his hands. Softly pulling them away with a deep breath. “I just got shaken up is all. I'm okay.”

Legend looked at the others out of the corner of his eyes. Whatever was wrong it was clear that it was either their fault or you were trying to hide it from them. Either way it made Legend want to rip their heads off.

“C’mon” he said, placing his hand on the small of your back. Purposely blocking your view of the 3 others wearing teasing grins on their faces. “We should get back to the others.” 

Everyone agreed, heading towards the predetermined meetup point. He kept close as you walked, hoping you'd open up and tell him what it was that was bothering you. You didn't, but by the time you got there you at least were generally back to normal. Smiling with Hyrule and Four, and helping Wild with the food.

Legend hung back, keeping a close eye on you. He may not know what it was that had caused your tears but he was determined to get to the bottom of whatever it was.

______ 

The opportunity arrived in the middle of the night. Not that Legend was capable of sleeping anyway. He waited until the start of the second watch which would conveniently be yours tonight. Sitting up on his bed roll to see you sat by the fire. The flames illuminated your silhouette, hands fiddling with your hair as you relaxed against the log.

With the others asleep, he stood up and made his way over to you.

“Want some company?”

You spun, face immediately lifting as you spotted him. “Yours? Always.”

Goddess he would never understand how you could make his heart skip so easily. He sat beside you, draping an arm on the log behind you.

“So,” Legend whispers, getting straight to the point. “You wanna tell me what happened earlier?”

You hunch your shoulders, bringing your knees up to your chest. “If I say no?”

“Then I keep pestering you about it.” He teased, hoping to lighten the mood a bit. “Come on Bun, you had us worried back there.”

“I…I don't think I like being a bunny..or hare or whatever..”

From everything Legend had imagined could be wrong, that was surprisingly not something he thought about. It was a sentiment he knew well but why were you bringing this up now? 

The frown on your face tugged at his heart and he needed it gone as soon as possible. He poked at your head repeatedly

“The hell are you doing?” 

“Well obviously you gotta have some sort of disguise cause you look rather Hylian to me.”

You giggled, swatting at his hand playfully. “That's not what I meant!”

Legend held up his hands in mock defeat, giving you time to further explain.

“I just feel so on edge lately,” You explain, hands returning to the ends of your hair. “Like something in my brain is screaming at me to constantly runaway and I can't get it to stop.” 

You throw your head onto his shoulder, your face buried into his tunic. Legend wraps his arms over your shoulders, pulling you closer to him. 

“Shit…I probably should've warned you about that. Instincts like that can be really strong, especially if you aren't used to it.”

“It's a thing?? I'm not crazy?” head whipping back up to look at him.

“Unfortunately, yeah. It's a thing, you can even ask Twi though he feels it a bit differently.”

“Oh…” Silence fell as you curled into Legend. Your head resting on his shoulder as his hand lazily played with a strand of your hair. His heart raced at the contact, praying you couldn't feel it pounding rapidly.

“Ledge?” Your voice was barely even a whisper. Hand reaching up to tuck your hair behind your ear. “How do you get it to stop?”

Legend sighed, nudging you to sit up. You did, eyeing him curiously as he turned you away from him. He ran his fingers through your hair, grabbing it in sections.

“It doesn't. But it gets easier to ignore after a while.”

“Well how did you do it?”

“Is it dumb to just say practice?” His fingers weaving the sections of hair together.

“Yes”

“Well too bad, you're stuck with the dumb answer.” Legend chuckled, heart soaring at the sound of your giggle. He crossed over another section of your hair until all of it was in a single braid.

You pulled it forward, admiring his work with the same gleam in your eyes as the day before.

“I didn't know you knew how to braid” 

Legend shrugged, leaning back against the log. “What can I say? I'm a man of many talents.”

“Well I will be putting this one to use! Its better than Wild’s.”

Legend laughed. He couldn't help but smile at the way you smiled up at him. He reached out, brushing a knuckle over your cheek.

“Anytime (Y/N).”

You held his gaze, leaning into his hand that now cupped your face. Your eyes flicked down to his lips and Legend slowly leaned forward, pressing his mouth against yours.

The kiss was soft, intoxicating and everything he dreamed it would be.

He captured your bottom lip, pulling on it ever so slightly before he pulled away. Breaths heavy between the two of you as he ran his thumb over your cheek.

“So I guess Four is out 30 rupees now?”

“You heard that huh?” He laughed, leaning his forehead against yours.

“Yeah, and I'll admit, I was really hoping Sky would win that one.” 

Legend pulled back, pulling you into his side with his arm wrapped tightly around you.

“Me too Bun."

[masked-men-fantasy]

Ask about their manhood size Headcanon (Call of Duty)

Headcanon for my beloved masked men from Call of Duty. What are their sizes down there?

NSFW Content. MDNI.

Jackal

He hid his surprise under the mask when you asked the question about his private part. Not that he hates the question; he is just surprised...

Around 8 1/2 inches.

He has a shower-type cock. So you won't see much difference when he is soft and hard.

Same color as his skin.

Not clean-shaven, but also not bushy. Well-trimmed. It is for the sake of cleanliness, he claimed.

He is proud of his size. He believes that this is the perfect size to satisfy you.

Never, ever joke about his manhood. Because if you do, he will show you what this cock can do until dawn.

"Come on, try to keep up," would be the last thing you hear before you collapse in his arm.

Mace

He will just drag you to the nearest toilet and let you find out with your own eyes. Or hands.

Judging from your eyesight, that should be somewhere around 7-8 inches, give or take.

Trimmed, almost fully shaven.

What surprises you is that his cock also has a crocodile scar, similar to what he has on his body.

He would ask you if you wanted to feel how those scars worked inside. And luckily, your curiosity is likely to win over reason and logic this time.

Ghost

"Confidential," he said.

But if you insist on him enough, with some help from a shot of Baileys, he will give you a hint.

"Can you see a watch on my wrist? Flatten it. That is the exact same length as what I have down there."

Luckily, you and Simon have the same model of watch. So you just flatten it on the counter bar to see the answer.

Let's just say you are more than satisfied with the truth that has been revealed.

"Now that I tell you about my secret, you gotta tell me yours to," Ghost said shortly in a husky voice, but his eyes surely mean he looks for something more than just a typical secret from you.

Oh... you think you know where this is going now.

Nikto

"нет (No)" He answered coldly. And no matter how many times you beg, he will not answer.

Until one day, you find him naked in the locker room by accident.

It is neither that big nor that long, probably because it is soft now. So you think it is quite normal size.

But the main event is what happened after. You are not sure why, but probably because of his nervousness, his manhood suddenly grows—rapidly, tremendously.

6 inches total, with somewhere around 5–6 inches of girth. It might not be that long, but the girth is insanely huge. You wonder if someone would be able to take all of that in.

Now that he is fully erected, he has to find someone to take responsibility for this matter. And then his eyes were drawn to you.

"Take care of this now, сука (bitch)," Nikto said as he held his shaft that pointed directly to you.

[thegayfigureskatingagenda]

Viktor Nikiforov appreciation post: cute reactions to Yuuri skating his FS for the first time in competition

Every time I watch YOI, Viktor's reactions to Yuuri's skating are a source of pure delight. Especially that first time that he watches Yuuri skate his free programme in competition is a hilarious rollercoaster across the emotional spectrum.

Surprise / shock: "That's not the opening combo Yuuri was supposed to jump"

Viktor still has to learn that on the ice, Yuuri does what Yuuri wants and not what his coach wants. That 4T+2T took him off guard and makes him low-key nervous because he has absolutely no idea where this is going to end when his naughty student already starts off with a different combo than he was supposed to jump.

Nervousness: Hiding behind Plush Makkachin (1)

It dawns on Viktor that Yuuri indeed didn't listen to him, so he's bracing himself for disaster to unfold. Yuuri is prone to messing up his jumps and with 8 jumping passes (11 jumps in total), the free programme provides MANY opportunities for Yuuri to mess up. Having a naughty student must be hard for an inexperienced coach. But hiding behind his tissue box won't help, he'll only miss the best parts.

Indignation: "He really didn't want me!"

No Viktor, your pushiness made Yuuri uncomfortable. You don't know that he doesn't remember the banquet. But even if he did, do you really think he would have been happier? Things don't work like that with your nervous katsudon. This is one of those lines where the audio is etched into my brain. Junichi Suwabe really did an amazing job at Viktor expressing indignation. +5 GOE in cuteness.

Concern

When your naughty student who never listens to you and who's prone to messing up tires in the middle of the programme despite being rumoured to have a lot of stamina, that's ample reason to be worried. This is Viktor's first competition as a coach. Although he saw Yuuri skate in practice, he has no idea what to expect because competitions are fairly different from practice.

Joy / pride: "3A clean!"

Ahh, look how excited he is! That's a proud and supportive coach!

Rapture

He's hiding again, but not completely because the beauty of Yuuri's skating enraptures him. It's the first time he's seeing Yuuri skate this programme and giving his all because competitions have stakes. And while the mistakes freak him out, Yuuri making music is what Viktor has been drawn to since that video in which Yuuri copied him went viral. If he only knew that right now Yuuri is making this music for him!

Suspense: Hand down on the 3A+Eu+3S sequence!

That's me when I watch figure skating and my fave makes a mistake. He's just so invested in Yuuri's performance because he cares.

Disappointment: Yuuri probably just got a concussion, but all Viktor thinks about is his score

Regardless of his lack of experience, Viktor is a very supportive coach. But he also has quite of a savage streak. Who's gonna tell him that Yuuri just had a very important realisation? Experienced skaters normally don't jump into the barrier like that.

Positive surprise: "It's me!"

Yes, darling. It has always been you. The whole point of Yuuri's free programme is figuring out his feelings for you and showing you his love.

Figure skaters are expected to perform to the judges. That ending pose, the Eros intro, that move with the hands in Stammi Vicino are supposed to be performed towards the judges. However, except for that one time Yuuri blows the judges a kiss, he always performs towards Viktor. So that's why...

Just don't, babe. Your katsudon just showed you his love. You still have a lot to learn, but that's okay. He loves you anyway.

Originally, I've made this post to appreciate how cute Viktor reacts to Yuuri's skating. But somewhere in the middle, I've realised how much this first competition reveals about Viktor, even this early in his partnership with Yuuri. His reactions prove that he is totally invested in Yuuri's skating and that he deeply cares for Yuuri doing well on the ice, no matter what everyone who wants him to stop coaching claims. He doesn't need experience in coaching to care for Yuuri. Just that he cares from the start is one of the things that make him so precious.

[scoobywrites690]

┈─★Johnny “Soap” McTavish nsfw alphabet

I didn't do all the letters as I couldn't think of something for all 26 letters (I also haven't proofread, I apologise)

A = Aftercare

He loves a bit of aftercare, either having a nice bubble bath together and using all your nice smelling products or, a quick clean with a warm cloth and then snuggling together under the blankets with a good comfort movie.

B = Body Part (his favourite body part of his partners)

Boobs, all the way your boobs. He's obsessed with them, not sure what it is about them but he's like a deer in headlights when he sees them. They're like his personal stress toys, he's drawn to them when he's stressed just wanting to squeeze on them, lay on them, press his face into them. He just loves them.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum)

I feel like he's very half and half when it comes to cumming. One side of him loves finishing inside of you, seeing his cum slowly seep out of you causes him to get hard all over again. Or there's the other half of him that loves cumming on your tits, seeing your perky nipples covered in his hot sticky cum probably gets him going more than finishing inside.

D = Dirty Secret

He likes when you call him a good boy. The team teases him about his submissive nature and he tries to act all hard and tough, telling them that they're wrong. But, the minute that man is in the privacy of his home he's putty in your hands.

E = Experience (how expired is he? does he know what he's doing)

I'd say Soap has done it a handful of times, he's not a total virgin when it comes to sex but he's also not an absolute pro at it. Mainly because everyone he's had sex with in the past have been one night stands as he can get a bit carried away. The horniness of this man can be too much sometimes so not a lot of ladies would call him back after one night with him.

F = Favourite Position

Most definitely cowgirl, again because of the perfect view it gives him. Your perky tits bouncing up and down right in front of his eyes, being able to grab onto them and to squeeze and pinch at your nipples. I'd say he also quite likes gripping your waist and helping you move on top of him, watching his dick disappear inside of you as you try to bully his fat cock all the way inside of you.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment?)

Soap is known to be unserious so there's no way he's going to be serious during sex. It's just not in his nature to be serious. He's gonna be cracking jokes whilst he's thrusting up into you.

H = Hair

Soap's very proud of his hair, always well styled so I'm sure down there will be the same as well. Either clean shaven or just a well groomed section and that's it.

I = Intimacy (how are they when doing it?)

He's a grabby man, his hands are all over you. grabbing you squeezing you, just touching you absolutely everywhere that he can. I'd say his love language is very much physical touch.

J = Jerk off

He'll most definitely jerk off to the thought of you or a picture of you, and this man is not quiet about it. He doesn't care who hears him, in his mind it just shows people how sexy his missus is, being able to turn him on by just the thought of you.

K = Kink (one or more of his kinks)

he thrives off of praise, he's got the biggest praise kink. he loves being called a good boy, it's music to his ears every time he hears it.

This man also has a breeding kink without a doubt, he loves to see his cum dripping out of you.

L = Location (favourite place to do it)

The shower is a top 5 for him I think, hopping in with you as a surprise, making the bathroom steam up so you can hardly see anything is his favourite thing to do.

The sofa and the kitchen counter as well I think, like I've said Soap is a horn dog he's could constantly have sex with you if he could. So, I believe the sofa and kitchen counter are a common place for him.

M = Motivation (what turns him on)

You fresh out the shower, towel wrapped around you, water dripping down your body and your hair wrapped up in the towel has blood rushing straight to his dick. An instant turn on for him.

N = No (something he wouldn't do)

Bondage. I don't think Soap is keen on being tied up or tying you up. He likes to be able to touch you and he likes you touching him.

O = Oral (giving or receiving)

He loves oral, giving or receiving. he's down for all of it. He loves eating you out, sucking your clit into his mouth whilst you squirm around underneath him. But he also loves your mouth wrapped around his cock, your tongue teasing his tip as pre cum leaks out.

P = Pace (how fast or slow)

The only time this man is ever slow is if he's had a really long day and is tired, other than that his pace is always the same. fast and deep.

Q = Quickie (their opinions towards it)

Soap loves a quickie, he's down for one anywhere. the amount of times this man had probably had you bent over the back seat before going into somewhere together.

R = Risk (are they willing to experiment?)

This man has a breeding kink and I'm sure if you both were ready for a baby he'd be filling you up at every opportunity. But I'm sure he'd be quite happy to try new things in bed if it was something you spoke about beforehand.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go?)

Again this man is a machine, he could go for as long as you let him. All night if you were willing, but the minute you get too tired he'll stop to clean you up so you can rest.

T = Toys (do they own toys?)

Soap most definitely owned a flesh light before meeting you as he could never get a woman to stick around for long. But now that you're here he doesn't remember the last time he's had to use one. He will use a vibrator on you though, he does love holding it against your clit and watching you squirm.

U = Unfair (is he a tease?)

I'd say Soap does like overstimulating you, not on purpose he just disappears into his own world when he's between your legs. He goes into his own little world of bliss, completely oblivious to you almost in tears with how sensitive you are.

V = Volume (how loud is he)

This man is loud, he whimpers, he moans, he groans, and he grunts he does it all.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive)

His sex drive is through the roof, wakes up horny, goes to bed horny, he's even horny at random points in the day.

Z = Zzz (how quickly does he pass out afterwards)

If you end up going multiple rounds then he's pretty quick to fall asleep afterwards. If you've only done the one round he's still got a decent amount of energy left afterwards.

[animehideout]

Hiiii could you please add INTP for your MBTI series? 🩷🩷🩷

Your MBTI, Your Relationship With JJK Characters Part 6

INTP + ESFP

Check out Part 5 here

check out part 7 here

a/n: Thank you Anon, @tojiiismyhusband @system753 @venus-xxoo for requesting INTP. Also thank you @suchasecretiveninja for reading 🫶🏻💕 I hope you enjoy these headcanons.

INTP:

Gojo Satoru = Fiancé

As an introvert who relies on the power of mind, I think you'll be fine having a loud extrovert as your partner; Gojo Satoru. INTP appreciates an open-minded partner who is willing to engage with them in intellectual conversations, challenges and debates, and Gojo is the one. INTP has a unique sense of humor that couldn't be understood by everyone, so with Gojo being witty, he'll find no problem in matching your vibe and continuing with your jokes even in serious situations, making the relationship even more enjoyable. Gojo is egocentric, so your wittiness would humble him everytime. INTPs prioritize logic, but also crave emotional connection which is the case for Satoru, he's so affectionate with you, and willing to satisfy your emotional needs. A balance between intellectual discussion and emotional support. Also both of you value independency so none of you feels restricted in the relationship. Let's not forget that Gojo is an ENTP so you're basically his introverted version.

Megumi Fushiguro = Friend

INTP values friendships that align with intellectual curiosity, and with Megumi being an intellectual himself with smart ideas, you'd totally become hooked. You would engage in deep existential conversations, debate and explore abstract concepts, while at the same time you respect each other solitude and independence without forcing your opinions on each other. Megumi is an honest person and honesty is something that INTP values. You are a fan of constructive criticism and feedback, you accepted it as long as it makes you grow mentally. Despite being logical most of the time you still have warm emotions which is the heart of your friendship.

Toji Fushiguro = Has a crush on you

INTPs are determined despite being a huge procrastinators. Toji likes how logical and rational you are and how you neglect your feelings when taking decisions and life choices. Despite being an introvert you engage well in conversations in public making you look like as if you are an extrovert. You are good at making your voice and ideas heard and understood. Toji appreciates your self-confidence even though you hide a lot of anxiety inside of you. He is also charmed by your mockery for situations that others may find scary, but you manage to find a humor in them, even though your humor serves as a coping mechanism. All these qualities made Toji drawn to you.

Ryomen Sukuna = Love hate relationship

Sukuna loves you but hates you at the same time. Despite him seeing humans as inferiors, he can't help the attraction he has for your badass side. He is attracted to your analytical thinking and overly logical mindset. As the king of curses, he sees human emotions as a weakness and burden so seeing a human who actually relies on their mind and neglect feelings intrigued him. Your unique and controversial thinking is also another hook for his interest. Your witty side completely swept him off his feet, you're kind of similar in this. Having a mocking and quirky kind of humor is kinda relatable for him. But at the same time he hates your resistance. INTPs worship independence and freedom, they completely oppose submission to someone else and don't accept forced rules. Let's not forget that Sukuna is an extrovert so extroverts that want to forcefully dominate introverts for perceiving them as shy individuals who are unable to defend themselves is a type that INTPs can't stand and that's how the tension / hate between you too was born.

ESFP:

Aoi Todo = Boyfriend

ESFP is a lively and affectionate partner you, totally match Todo energy. Your presence keeps him recharged, your energy and enthusiasm are infectious. Despite him being strong both physically and mentally he still needs your affection to function properly. INTP infuses excitement and passion in the relationship. Given that both of you and Todo are extroverts you thrive on social interactions and enjoy spending time together doing fun and spontaneous activities. You also have similar love languages. Both of you are also sensors so you have an awareness of each other's discomfort which brings a huge understanding between the two of you.

Geto Suguru = Rival

One thing that was able to make you consider Geto as your enemy; lack of emotions and empathy. ESFPs are highly emotional individuals they are expressive and very sympathetic towards others. Geto's ruthless side clashes with your nature, effortlessly creating a hurdle. His behaviors choices and mindset go against your principals and values leading to a significant conflict. You can connect with trustworthy people but with him there's no connection, you believe that empathetic individuals can't be trusted as they only care about their own desires without taking into account other people's well-being. On the other hand, Geto sees you as weakling and a burden on society for simply being an emotionally oriented.

Kamo Noritoshi = Source of comfort.

As someone who has dealt with a lot, lacking the families' warmth in his life, he always find himself indirectly dependent on you for some comfort. ESFP excels at expressing empathy through both words and actions Despite Noritoshi skills at hiding his emotions, you as a sensor you can sense his troubled spirit and provide for him a safe space by acknowledging and understanding his feelings without judgment and serve as a listener when he's ready to open up. Aside from comfort you also radiate a contagious positive energy that can break through the toughest walls. It makes ESFPs happy knowing that they had a positive impact on people around them.

Thank you for reading, remember this piece of writing is just for fun, also IMO so it's not necessarily accurate ✨

[incognit0slut]

Right Kind of Wrong (11)

She ever thought she would be involved in a murder investigation and encounter her one-night-stand again, the awkward guy who isn’t exactly that good in bed—Or is he? Offended by the sentiment, Spencer is determined to prove her wrong… But as he gets tangled with the beautiful stranger, he realizes there is more to her than what meets the eye.

Part Summary: Her involvement in the case becomes more crucial than she lets on. wc: 2.7k

Series Warnings: 18+ explicit content, graphic details of murders, mentions of suicide

a/n: I know this part is long overdue, I've been very busy lately and I can't seem to write anything good for me to post. But do not fret, I am back and better than ever before (lol) Also, thank you for patiently waiting for this update🤍

Other parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14

"I WOULD HAVE STRANGLED HIM IF I WERE YOU."

Y/n frowned as she watched the slight furrow on her friend's brow, adding an element of emphasis to her words.

A moment of silence passed between them before Sandy rolled her eyes, leaning against the plush couch in the living room with a tall glass in her hand. "I'm just saying," she explained. "He was being a total jerk."

She let out a sigh. A slight confusion weaved itself whenever she contemplated him. She thought that voicing out her emotions on what occurred these past few days could ease her, yet thinking of him was only making her question her sanity. It was as if her mind was attempting to decipher a language it didn't fully comprehend, leaving her caught between curiosity and apprehension.

She honestly didn't know what to think anymore. One minute she felt like she was head over heels for the guy, and the next minute strangling him didn't seem like a bad idea after all.

She could even list all of the things about him that riled her up, yet somehow the thought of having her hands wrapped around his throat reminded her of something entirely different, which was why she found herself saying, "You know, he would actually enjoy that."

Sandy raised her brows. "What? Getting choked to death?"

She scoffed. "No, not to that extent. But like, in another context." She then narrowed her eyes. "If you know what I mean."

The subtle innuendo didn't go unnoticed as Sandy's eyes widened in surprise. "No way."

"Way."

"Damn," her friend mused before taking a sip of her drink. "Smart and kinky. If only he wasn't such an ass to you."

Smart and kinky weren't exactly words she considered using in one sentence, but the sound of them put together surprisingly sounded enticing. It sounded enticing enough that her mind was starting to play tricks on her. It sounded good enough that she found herself starting to miss him, even when logic dictates that she shouldn't.

And now it sounded compelling enough that she couldn't help but weigh in the pros and cons when it came to the man, putting the cons on his ability to switch attitude in a span of seconds into a completely different person—not to mention his tendency to assume biased reasonings based on poor judgment.

On the other hand, the pros were very hard to ignore. There was a certain charm in his awkward demeanor, especially in his shy and uncertain smile every time it was directed her way. Then there was also his intelligent mind she was definitely drawn to.

But above all that, he was, without a doubt, a certified freak in the sheets.

And that was on top of her list.

A subtle sigh escaped her lips, revealing a hint of her internal struggle. "I mean, he did have a good point, don't you think?"

"Y/n," Sandy warned disapprovingly.

"What? He was only doing his job..." She glanced at her. "...right?"

"This is the alcohol talking," Sandy dismissed before standing up. "You would never forgive a man this easy if you were sober."

"It's Margarita Night, what's the point of being sober?" She proved her point by finishing the last drop of liquor from her glass, the vibrant notes of freshly squeezed lime and tequila playing across her taste buds.

Sandy simply scoffed as she took her glass and disappeared into the kitchen, the sound of utensils clinking together following behind as she started making them a refill. 

Y/n leaned back and closed her eyes, her body poised for a moment of relaxation. But just as the first tendrils of calm began to envelop her, a sharp interruption pierced through the air—the sound of the doorbell ringing.

A grin tugged at the corners of her lips as she rose from the couch. "Our pizza is here!"

Light steps carried her to the door as her stomach grumbled in anticipation, the scent of cheesy goodness already wafting through her imagination. She slowly wrapped her hand around the doorknob and swung the door open, but instead of being greeted by the delivery guy clad in his familiar uniform, the last person she thought would be on the other side of her door stood right in front of her.

Her eyes widened, capturing the shock that rendered her momentarily speechless. Time seemed to slow as her heart raced with caution while she attempted to process on what was happening.

What were the chances of seeing him again right at the moment when she had her friend coming over just so she could rant about the guy?

It was as if the universe was playing a trick on her, presenting a twist she could never have anticipated. As the seconds ticked by, she then finally found her voice, a mix of caution and confusion lacing her words as she muttered, "You're not the delivery guy."

"I'm not," Spencer—god, she still couldn’t believe he was here—responded, his eyes scanning along her features. "Sorry to disappoint you."

There was a fleeting moment where their gaze met, an unspoken wariness passing between them. The memory of their last meeting surfaced with a wave of tension that tugged at the corners of her mouth. She watched as his expression shifted, the space between them seemed to shrink, the air heavy with the weight of their unspoken words.

Then a throat being cleared cut through the silence, a soft disruption that broke the spell of their locked eyes. Startled, her gaze broke away from his, shifting to the source of the interruption. And there, standing beside him was another figure—a woman she hadn't noticed until that very moment.

Recognition flashed in her eyes as she glanced at the familiar face, recalling the blonde-haired lady as one of the agents she met at the bureau the other day. Agent... Jareau, was it?

Yes, that was definitely her name. She was one of the few agents who actually treated her without judgment, checking in on her from time to time, which was why she focused her attention on her instead.

"Agent Jareau, what brings you here?"

"Sorry to barge in this late," she replied with an apologetic smile. "But we'd like to have a few words with you."

"It's fine." Y/n stepped aside and pulled the door wider. "Do you want to come in?"

"No, it's alright, we'll be quick—"

"Yes."

Her gaze turned back to the other man and narrowed her eyes.

"I think it’s better to have this conversation inside."

She studied him for a moment before nodding, letting the two agents step inside her home. There was a clatter coming from the kitchen as she closed the door before walking down the hallway, expecting them to follow behind. "We can talk in the living room but—"

"We're putting you on protection."

She abruptly turned on her heels. "What?"

Agent Jareau sent a disapproving look towards Spencer as if trying to say this was not how they usually handle things in this situation. The woman turned back to her and gave her a reassuring smile before explaining, "We've been investigating the situation thoroughly, and it appears that the Unsub we're dealing with might have developed an unhealthy obsession with you."

Her heart slowly raced, a mix of fear and disbelief coursing through her veins as the words finally sink in. "Obsession?” Her brows furrowed deeper. “What do you mean?"

"As you may know, all of the victims were related to you in one way or another, where you received some kind of mistreatment by them all. We believe the Unsub might be doing this out of his way to protect you."

She felt a knot tightening in her stomach, a growing sense of vulnerability she had never experienced before. "P-Protect me? But why?"

Agent Jareau's expression softened as she continued, "We're still working to understand the motives behind their actions. But given the escalating behavior and the potential danger it poses, we've decided it's best to put you under protection."

Her mind was a whirlwind of confusion and fear. "Protection? Like... witness protection?"

Spencer, who had been quietly observing, spoke up. "Something similar. We're proposing a protective measure—having an officer discreetly follow you during your daily routine."

Her eyes widened in disbelief. "You want me to be followed?"

Agent Jareau interjected, "It's for your own safety. We believe that having an officer close by could deter any potential threat and give us a better chance of identifying the Unsub."

Her mind raced as she considered the implications. "But how will I know? Will the officer be obvious?"

"Officer Anderson is currently outside in a separate car. He's trained to blend in while keeping a watchful eye on your surroundings."

"I..." she trailed off, then shook her head. "Will he be there all the time?"

Spencer nodded. "Yes, but we'll do our best to be inconspicuous. You won't even know he's there most of the time."

The idea of having an undercover officer tailing her sent a mixture of emotions coursing through her veins. Safety, yes, but also an unsettling feeling of being under constant scrutiny.

"Is this really necessary?"

"Yes, it is."

Her thoughts suddenly spun like a whirlwind, torn between disbelief and grim realization. She had always taken her daily routines for granted, the simple act of going to work or meeting friends devoid of apprehension. Now, each step she took seemed laden with an invisible weight, as if unseen eyes were tracking her every movement.

And to top it all, was she actually the sole reason behind these murders? She wasn't exactly the one acting out these gruesome crimes, yet it might as well happened because of her. Who could harbor such an unhealthy fixation on her? What had she done to attract this unwanted attention?

The unanswered mysteries gnawed at her.

Agent Jareau reached out and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder as she read the familiar look in her eyes, it was the same look whenever a witness was starting to blame themselves. "This isn't your fault, we're here to support you through this. Your safety is our priority.”

With a deep breath, she nodded, silently accepting the protection they offered. The blonde-haired woman then gestured for her to open the door, which she did, and pointed towards a car parked a few blocks away with its window down, revealing a normal-looking guy sitting behind the wheel.

"That's Officer Anderson, he'll be trailing behind you at a safe distance. You won't even notice he's there."

The officer caught them staring and lifted his hand, a gesture of his greeting. Y/n waved back at him. "Great, I've always wanted a personal bodyguard."

Unfortunately, none of the two agents standing beside her caught the sarcasm in her voice. Agent Jareau turned back to her. "You have our number, right? You can call us anytime if you need assistance."

She did have her number, she also had Agent Prentiss' number who constantly assured her to call if she ever found anything new that could help with the investigation. But surprisingly, out of all the agents she met, the one agent she didn't have their number was the one she had been sleeping with all along.

Not that she was ever going to call him. She simply nodded out of politeness, and as she did, she could feel watchful eyes staring at her intently. Agent Jareau's keen eyes also caught the subtle interaction unfolding before her. She caught the way Spencer's gaze fixed with unwavering intensity on Y/n, who seemed determinedly oblivious to the weight of his stare, or rather, she was purposefully attempting to ignore his scrutiny.

Sensing the tension in the air, she took a step back, offering a fleeting glance to Spencer before turning to leave. "I'll wait in the car."

Her footsteps softly echoed in the night as she disappeared, and Y/n wasn't sure whether being left with him was a good idea.

She could feel the subtle shifts of his movements, the barely perceptible rise and fall of his chest, as they stood just inches apart. She could also feel the warmth radiating from his body, a tantalizing contrast to the cool breeze that brushed against her skin.

"You okay?"

The air felt charged with tension as he spoke, his voice carrying a mix of nervousness and sincerity.

"It's safe to say I'm far from being okay," she decided to say.

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his fingers curling and then relaxing by his sides. His lips parted slightly as if he were on the cusp of forming the words he had carried within him for so long. His gaze, intense yet searching, traced the contours of her face as if trying to find the right entry point into a conversation that had been left untouched.

And then he finally spoke.

"I'm sorry."

She finally dragged her gaze on him with an expression that betrayed little emotion. "Are you sorry because a serial killer out there has an unhealthy obsession with me or are you sorry about your misconception of me?"

"Both." He seemed to search her eyes for a reaction, his uncertainty palpable. "But you must understand I was doing my job, it was never my intention to hurt you."

"But you did hurt me," she answered, her gaze dropping momentarily before returning to meet his. "Whether it was intentional or not."

He seemed to struggle for words, a mix of emotions playing across his features "I know. I'm sorry."

She tilted her head slightly, her expression remaining impassive. After hearing the new update on the case and how much she was actually involved, she wasn’t in the mood to be having a serious conversation.

"It's getting late,” she mumbled, crossing her arms. “You should probably leave."

Spencer let out a sigh. "Listen, I—"

"It’s getting late,” she repeated, her voice sounding severe. “We can have this conversation another time.”

His shoulders slumped, the weight of his remorse heavy on his chest. He had hoped for a reaction, a sign that his apology had made a difference. Instead, her indifference left him feeling adrift, as if it was a barrier that he couldn't breach, a shield that rendered his efforts to make amends ineffective.

There was nothing else he could do as she turned to face him fully again, her eyes meeting his with a calm finality.

"Good night, Dr. Reid."

He reluctantly took a step back.

"Good night," he murmured.

Then with a nod, he slowly turned away, leaving her standing there all alone. Her gaze remained fixed on his receding figure, his form gradually blending into the night.

Doubt suddenly gnawed at the edges of her consciousness—Had she made the right choice? Was her choice to distance herself a shield to guard against potential heartache, or was it a missed opportunity to rebuild what had been lost?

She shook her head and went back inside, closing the door behind her before leaning against it. It wasn't until she heard footsteps emerging from the kitchen that she realized Sandy was still here.

"What was that all about?"

Y/n glanced at her friend. The two freshly filled glasses in her hands were calling out to her and drowning herself in heaps amount of alcohol seemed like a good idea, even when she was probably going to regret it tomorrow morning. But she needed to feel numb by all of these emotions.

She watched as Sandy offered her a glass, waiting for her reply. There were a lot of things she could answer with, but the only matter that stood out to her was the new revelation on her involvement on the case. So she took the glass from her and pressed her lips around the rim as her mind drifted toward the disguised officer sitting right outside her house.

There was no other way than to explain it as it was.

"I think I might be in danger."

>> NEXT PART

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Don’t forget to interact with the story!

[loveanddeepspice]

𝕋𝕖𝕞𝕡𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝔾𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕖

✞ synopsis:  you've come back to the small town you grew up in for a visit. though your relationship with the catholic church and faith in general have been strained since you were younger, you find yourself drawn back to the church... or more specifically... the new priest... you aren't ready to share your secret sin with him... but you may not be able to help yourself.

✞ pairing: sylus x curvy fem!reader

✞ rating:  18+ (minors do not engage)

✞ cw:  religion (catholicism), priest, lapsed faith, adultery, priest kink, suicidal mention, dead parent, sex, masturbation, drugs (marijuana), mentions of other drug use, drinking (more will be added when/if they arise)

✞ disclaimer: this fiction explores a romantic relationship between a lapsed Catholic and an unconventional priest. it is not designed to be inflammatory or critical. catholic authors were asked to participate in the process. we hope you enjoy it, but we know that these topics can be sensitive, so please skip this fiction if it will in any way offend you.

✞ chapter:  6 / ?

✞ co-authors:  redbriony, confuseddoughnut (they do not have tumblr)

✞ ao3 link:  here

✞ chapter synopsis: "the only way to get rid of temptation is to yield to it." - oscar wilde

✞ index: chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3 | chapter 4 | chapter 5| chapter 6

Please comment on this post if you want to be added to the tag list for updates!

Despite what happened, you would have done anything to face Father Sylus again. 

He was the type of person who radiated energy from within, dedication unlike anyone you had ever met - which could be a good or a bad thing. The thoughts became an obsession, all that seemed to fill your brain. The recollection of his touch made you sweat. It was the last thing you thought about before drifting off to sleep, the first thing you thought about when you woke, and the next few days stretched.  One thing was sure: you longed to see him again, if only for the courage to apologize.  But did you even have to apologize? He was the one who had kissed you first, right?  It was so unbelievably confusing. You’d talk yourself through circles; for once, no amount of sleeping seemed to help.  You weren’t even given the option to sleep it all off anyway or mellow properly in your self-pity. Upon learning of your ‘arrest’ from Talia, your father forced you out of the house that Sunday to go to church with him.  “What’s going on with you, Y/N?” Dad raised his eyebrows and frowned as he gripped the steering wheel, and you could tell he was trying hard not to get angry or frustrated. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you, hon. You came back, and you’re acting weird.  Can you just tell me what’s wrong?”  Shaking your head, you shrugged, trying your hardest to maintain eye contact on the door handle, ignoring your dad’s question and wishing he’d just leave you alone.  “You went from being happy to totally distraught since you moved out. What am I supposed to think here, huh?”  ‘Maybe everything went to total fucking shit,’ was what you wanted to say, and tried not to roll your eyes. Dad tried so hard to not act like the authoritarian or pushy father, especially after your mother had died. He was never like that. And it was because of that you figured it was time to be at least a little truthful.  “I quit my job. I don’t know what I’m going to do from here, but -” you said, “I just…needed some time to think things through.”  Your dad parked the car and turned to offer you a subtle smile. You were convincing enough, obviously. “Okay, fine. Work in the store until you figure it out. It’ll be like old times.” One hand gripped the steering wheel as he looked at you, almost seeming to peer into your brain as his eyes flicked ever so slightly. “So, uh, is this about your mom? I didn’t know you were still upset about that. I should’ve tried to talk to you more.”  You bit down your reply, feeling a bitter taste in the back of your throat, and willing it away.  “No, it isn’t. Just forget about it.”  A long sigh filled the small space as your father pressed his lips together. “Christ, I can’t be mad at you right now. I’ve always let you do what you want.”  This was strange, a particular ache settling inside and spreading to your limbs like an infection. Maybe it wouldn’t stop now that it had started. And the first instinct was to get away and run. Run and run and just get away.  “Hon, Y/N,” Your Dad’s voice was pleading, and you nearly missed it. “We can go talk to -”  “No!” You blurted, immediately regretting it, mortified at just the thought. How did you speak so fast? “No, it’s fine. Let’s just go inside. We’re gonna be late.”

You didn’t feel any better inside the church, but you weren’t expecting much to begin with. All you could do was suck it up and seat yourself beside your dad. It wasn’t crowded, but there were a few unfamiliar faces, so maybe not everyone would notice your fucked up mood. 

Everything felt surreal. You were sitting there in church with the sun streaming through the stained glass windows, and your gaze landed on the one depicting the Virgin Mary.

The word ethereal came to mind. 

Everything seemed like it would evaporate into thin air. Like if you moved too quickly, you’d wake up from one of those dreams that just turned out to be inside of another dream. 

And when a hush fell over the congregation, you had no choice but to look forward. No matter how your brain fizzes or your fingers tingle. You were forced to look at that handsome face in front of the church and feel the emotion well inside you. Something that felt different than embarrassment or frustration. 

Even from this distance, Father Sylus exudes that particular aura, daring to fill the whole church with its strength. You are once again reminded of how inescapable his presence is—not through belief or goodness, but something, someone who felt unearthly, even celestial, as absurd as it felt. 

Ethereal. Once again, with that pretty word. How could you even begin to explain it? It was so easy to feel some sort of bitterness, perhaps even selfishness. Who could blame you? Everything always seemed too simple when you looked at it from a distance. 

“Good morning,” He began, his voice taking on that strangely powerful, lilting cadence. He paused, hands clasping, and his posture was different. Shoulders broad, spine straight, chin lifted slightly. “I want to take a moment before we begin to discuss why we’re here.” 

You were drawn to his words, which had formed an invisible link to you. Maybe if you closed your eyes like you did at night, you could picture that night in the car. It felt foolish because you were certain your own thoughts were desperate. How stupid did it make you seem, trying to replay the sensation? A stupid crush. That is all you wanted it to amount to, even if looking into his fiery gaze had made you feel like you were melting.

“We’re here, in the house of the Lord. Why is this?” 

If a month’s insistence on chasing after a flame could be compared to anything -

 “Free will.” His tone picked up. “Through our actions, we make conscious decisions. As far as humankind is concerned, free will also makes us human.” 

Your breathing stilled. Something terrible seized your gut, a cramping feeling causing you to grit your teeth. 

“This is a sanctified place,” he continued, voice rich and filled with energy. “Within these walls, you should experience peace. Not conflict or anger. All are free here because it is with our actions that we build ourselves.”

How the hell did he manage this? The words continued spilling from his mouth, something pulling you further. And after a pause, his gaze filtered over the room again - and landed on you. 

Time was beginning to stand still, and you swore your face began to heat up. But, thankfully, the look didn’t linger on you, moving on as he cleared his throat. 

Well, fuck. 

There was only a tiny shift in expression, and perhaps you were the only one to notice how his pause seemed more lengthy than those before it. 

"We - uh.” Father Sylus made a show of glancing down at the notes before him and shuffling a few pages. “Sorry.” He cleared his throat again, a little louder this time. “What I mean to say is, with free will, we struggle against our urges and temptations. Sin beckons - uh,” another loud cough. He looked nervous. Vulnerable. In more ways than one. 

Father Sylus hastily pushed aside the pages, shoulders lifting in a deep breath before looking again at the people gathered. He straightened a little, and his powerful tone returned as he folded his hands neatly. “So, how do we resist? It can be hard to…admit one’s faults.” He let out a little huff of air, glancing down again. Then, he stepped away from the podium, stepping along the carpeted dais, hands clasped behind his back and thumbs tapping against each other. 

The congregation started shifting. A glance here and there, unable to guess what he would say next. Probably wondering why their priest was acting so…off. If you weren’t glued to your seat in, well, any number of the emotions you were feeling now - you would have high-tailed it out of there already. But instead, you were frozen in place, feeling like an outsider, feeling the shift in the air more than the others around you. 

“Take those feelings and multiply them by ten.” He stated, looking towards the back of the church at nothing in particular. It was as if he was somewhere only his mind knew. 

“Opportunity is often just an invitation to sin, yes. Free will is a man’s greatest power but also his biggest weakness. With that power comes responsibility. Satan doesn’t come dressed in a red cape and pointy horns in the middle of the night.” 

Oh God.

 There was a tense pause and stillness, and you wonder how you managed to sit here and listen. Those crimson eyes trailed around the room, but for another second, a brief and terrifying second, they burned into you.

“Satan comes as everything you’ve ever wished for.” He laughed, bitter and slightly hoarse. Then his eyes snapped forward again, unabashed. 

He coughed, cleared his throat again, and gestured with a finger above his head. “We all - well, we all think we can overcome any challenge. Big or small. Big and small.” Father Sylus let out a shaky exhale. “Um, the point is...The point is that the devil is ready to collect when you can’t. So, the point is that - uh,” His tone shifted to something smaller that made your insides tremble agonizingly. A breathless, tight sort of anxiousness that stole through your lungs and caused your heart rate to increase. It was impossible to deny that despite the words coming out of his mouth, you actually wanted to hear him continue. “Um, sometimes I think the hardest thing is that we are human, and we are weak.” 

Before he could even continue, his voice cracked. “I’m sorry.” He swallowed, grimacing, an anguish that you recognized. “Excuse me.” He looked like he might break, the wavering tension almost stifling the room, his expression almost tormented. 

“I’m sorry. Excuse me.” And with that, he disappeared into the back, leaving everyone shocked. 

Everyone except for you. 

“And that’s why I’m never going to church again.” You rolled your eyes as you leaned against one of the shelves in your dad’s store, looking over at Rafayel, who was leaning against the counter, making it his personal mission to get every last drop out of an iced coffee. “You should have seen the look on his face. What a fuck up.” 

Rafayel wrinkled his nose, looked around the otherwise empty store, and then glanced at his phone. “Yikes. Poor guy.” He sighed and tapped his foot on the floor. “Talia came home and said he had a migraine - but it’s even more hilarious that a near-public breakdown was because of you.” 

“My God, you are awful.” You frowned and stepped forward to lightly punch his arm, reaching out and catching his elbow with a grimace as he pretended to almost fall over. “That’s a horrible thing to say! You were the one who was practically encouraging me!” 

“I would never,” Rafayel huffed, clicking his tongue and shaking his head. “Anyway, it’s been almost a week now. You’re gonna have to suck it up and face him sooner or later.” With a firm nod, he shook off your hold and dusted his hand on the faded denim of his jeans, turning his attention back to his phone and shaking the ice in the cup he held. 

“How would I do that?” You asked. 

As if oblivious, Rafayel arched a brow and smiled tightly, peering at you over the edge of his phone. His tone was less-than-reassuring, sounding almost pitying. “No fucking idea.” 

You opened your mouth to argue but thought better of it as the shop door opened, just in time for the chilly afternoon to bring in your dad and Xavier. You took a deep breath at the sound of the bell and forced yourself to calm down.

As if on cue, Rafayel pushed himself away from the counter and looked in your direction. “Well, Y/N.” He said, tossing a wink in your direction that made you want to reach out and knock the silly grin off his face. “Good luck.” With that, he turned and walked out of the store with a shake of his head. 

Your dad mumbled something under his breath before tossing a wave a little too late and heading into the back of the small building. 

Unease had settled in your stomach at your friend's departure. You felt as if you had more to say, ask, or get a general idea of as you stared at the shop's door. You ran a hand over your tired face and sighed. 

“Hi,” Xavier gave you a careful, controlled smile as you turned toward his voice. “Need help with anything?” 

You tried your best not to fidget or bite your lip. “No, but it’s nice of you to offer.” You shrugged and glanced away briefly. “Why? Got nothing else to do?” 

“Uh, I work here?” He blinked as he stepped forward. You could take in his softening facial features now that he was closer. His smile didn’t quite fade as he looked around the quiet shop. “Anyway - I um. I tried to call you last night? About dinner?” 

Tilting your head in confusion, you froze. Then, you processed the sentence. 

Dinner. Shit. 

“Oh! My phone went missing. I’m sure it’ll turn up soon or something. Wasn’t the nicest phone anyways,” you brushed some hair behind your ear. “I still can’t figure out how it disappeared!” You forced a laugh at your lie and shifted uncomfortably.

You’d completely forgotten about agreeing to go out with him. How fucking stupid were you? So caught up in the idea of -

“Well, uh, I didn’t plan much. So it’s okay, we can just do something another night. Right?” Xavier suggested, and you couldn’t tell if he had let it go so quickly or was suspicious about your behavior. 

Either way, you smiled, rationalizing with yourself for what felt like the millionth time that spending time with him would be a good thing. Any way to keep your mind distracted. Clearly, he still wanted to go out with you, and you certainly wouldn’t say no. After all, who could blame you for latching on anyone who showed the slightest interest? 

This would be a step in the right direction, right? Things would get better. They had to. No matter how weird it felt for you to think so. 

“That’s fine. Sorry, my head’s all over the place.” 

The worst part of it all was the sudden weight in your stomach, the ache in your chest that was becoming all too tiring. Something pushed you in the complete opposite direction of the young man in front of you, towards what you really wanted, and had no explanation for why you did. 

“Y/N?” Xavier spoke again and stepped closer, watching your expression with careful scrutiny, his hand reaching out to touch yours, giving you a new feeling of unease. “Hey, um, - you alright?” 

Your heart wrenched a little at the worry, and you wondered exactly how pathetic you appeared. “I think so. Can you take over? I gotta step out for a while.”

It grew colder as you walked along the sidewalk, sticking your hands inside your jacket pockets. Clouds gathered in the distance, inching their way towards the suburb. The air smelled fresher, as if it might snow lightly sometime at night. A breeze swept over the street, stirring pieces of your hair from its confines, and you briefly thought you should have remembered your scarf. 

Then, you came to a stop in front of the church. 

You looked down at your outfit, the jeans and the oversized blue sweater you had found in your mom's closet, when you couldn’t be bothered to do your own laundry. Perhaps she would give you strength, or at least enough willpower from wherever she was to give you the courage to turn right the fuck around and go back home.  She was always straightforward in that way, even without the drinking. If only you had taken after her in that aspect. 

For a moment, you almost turned to leave, giving yourself the opportunity to simply walk away and go home. However, after a few seconds of mental debate, you stepped along the worn walkway and up the steps, slipping your hand out of your pocket to place it on the worn wooden door. 

Somewhere in your mind was a glimmer of hope, the possibility of resolve.

Now that you had gathered whatever courage you had left, you took one last, bracing breath before pushing the door open. A jolt of energy speared up your arms, a buzzing sensation against your fingertips. Once you were inside, everything felt eerily silent. Almost too silent. But as the familiar warmth enveloped you, your body relaxed slightly as you shrugged off your jacket. 

The last light from the day was casting through the windows, and the interior was a muted, golden glow and soft orange. It felt warm in more ways than one. Despite the hushed nature of the building, energy thrummed within you. The atmosphere was inviting, but for some reason, you couldn’t quite muster the ability to step forward any further, feet stuck to the floor beneath you. It was ironic, yet in a way, expected; you felt like crying or throwing something, but maybe punching Father Sylus would give you the most satisfaction. 

The chapel seemed alien to you as you made your way further inside. 

Loneliness was all-consuming, a fear ever present and threatening in the back of your mind. You wondered why it hurt so much. And, you considered whether you have ever experienced a real connection in your life. You zeroed in on the cross beyond the rows of pews as if you could use it for answers. It glinted a little in the evening light that filtered through the stained glass. Your eyes felt dry as they fixed upon the illuminated wood, searching, listening, walking towards the front of the church like a mouse. 

“You think this is funny, don’t you?” You asked your question out loud. The silence of the building taunted you in return, and something constricted within your chest. The rush of it all was consuming, filling your every thought with hope and expectation. A breath sucked in, and you shook your head, blinking. Everything felt off, and you had no idea what your body was supposed to do with itself. “This is so fucked. You know, this is all…just so messed up,” you choked out the whisper and, with a small gasp, swallowed. The emotions swelled. Heavy and pounding and suddenly overwhelming. 

Who gave a shit? Nothing would change. 

But, maybe - 

Would God be willing? Could He lift the spell put on you that would continue to grow? 

“Mom is dead, and she’s not coming back.” The words spilled and dropped like shattered glass. “And, uh, it’s just like, that’s fucked up. Isn’t it? Please, it’s - well, I wish I knew, God damn it. Motherfucker!” You swore louder than you should have, not recognizing your own voice. A feeling that had no name gripped your heart. This was it. You were giving up. “Totally fucked up. And you go and make me do stupid shit? What kind of test is that?” 

Only silence answered. You wondered how you should feel. As angry as you were, it felt strange to voice it. Finally, saying the words brought unusual comfort, and it was too easy to admit everything now. “Yeah, yeah. You should really apologize, God. Lord. Jesus. Whatever.” 

“I’m sorry.” The voice that spoke back did not belong to you. Echoing off the walls and the stained glass, it sent a jolt up your spine, causing you to spin in its direction. Leaning against a doorframe was Father Sylus, looking down at the floor, that shameful expression resurfacing on his face. You witnessed the repentant facade as he lifted his head and looked at you. 

It felt like a flood rushed through you, coursing, washing away the anger, seeping into every cell, and filling you with something new. Warm and soft, somehow breaking you apart as it passed. Something indecipherable but true. 

Something almost wonderful and exhilarating. 

He looked like something you could draw. That raw, exposed sort of aura. 

That same warmth enveloped your heart, the comfort expanding across your chest. There was something profound and affectionate within his gaze and the sense that you had underestimated what was truly meant by the phrase ‘care and concern.’

It could have been a few seconds. Or minutes passed as you stood rooted to the spot. The beating of your heart seemed to echo in your ears. Blood pulsed through your veins, the silence around you growing louder. 

“For what?” You were almost afraid to speak up. 

“For whatever you’re feeling,” Father Sylus stated plainly. Then he straightened, and his look shifted, and for a split second, he stepped forward, only to pause with his fingers twitching at his sides. Maybe there was confusion flickering in his gaze. Or longing. But he still didn’t move from where he stood, as if unable to break the tension he had with himself. After a time, he studied your face and added, “For everything and for nothing.” 

After a moment of thought, you shook your head. “That’s vague.” 

“It’s all I’ve got.” Father Sylus ran a hand behind his neck, almost nervously, eyes shifting and gaze searching. Another pause lingered between you, and you blinked a few times. He opened and closed his mouth, finally settling on placing both his hands on his hips, inclining his head to look at the stained glass windows. “That…and guilt.” 

His admission seemed weighted, and his voice was heavy. You watched him take a step forward, then hesitate. 

In that second, there was a great leap in understanding. You understood that he would not look directly at you because it would break this sacred reverence between you and whatever else was going on within his mind. 

Maybe it’d always been a game, and perhaps you knew deep down that this would be his next move. The inevitable, silent communication. Slowly, you folded your shaky arms over your chest. The look that flashed in his eyes made you shudder. With a new boldness, you swallowed and whispered: “Why are you telling me this?” 

Exhaling hard, you weren’t sure whether to scream, laugh, or cry as you awaited your answer.

He swallowed, his dark gaze teeming like a fire in the low light, the red burning. His lip curled. “Because I feel like you can understand it. Why I feel this way.” 

A sick urge, sharp and needy, had you crossing the space between you, the air shaking and trembling as he finally took another stride forward. Your eyes traced over his face. Deep and pained and beautiful. His chest heaved. A strange, bittersweet satisfaction filled you. 

“I - I can’t stop thinking about -” you broke off, words quivering as you spoke. “Us. The other night - it keeps going through my head, what I said, and -” your voice was breaking again, the achy, miserable desperation settling in. 

You could tell he was holding his breath, hands now clenched into fists, gaze searching and uncertain. “I didn’t mean to deceive you.” The words hung heavy as he stepped closer, finally closing the distance between you, tilting your chin, and forcing you to look at him. The grip held you firmly, though his eyes remained gentle and pleading. “I want nothing more than to pray - beg for your forgiveness. Try and restore whatever trust I’ve betrayed - but in all truth, God, I -” 

Another thick swallow, and he paused, the corner of his mouth twisting. He squeezed your chin lightly as if in search of some answer. Then his hand fell to his side, his head turning to look at the cross behind the altar. Something burned beneath your ribs. 

“What is it?” You whispered, trembling with the effort of not spilling all your unresolved thoughts. “Tell me - tell me something, anything, or - or -” You stopped yourself, feeling a little pathetic at not being able to formulate the proper words. 

“My path was never exactly clear, but,” Father Sylus swallowed thickly, sounding more scared than ever. “Someone I loved when I was younger - she -” A long sigh escaped his lips. “We were each other's firsts and…We loved each other very much.” He exhaled again. His face creased into sadness, reminiscent and haunting. A sharp pain, almost. One that lingered from emotions held within. The truth was there, plain as day, naked, heartbroken, and fragile. “She died when she was eighteen.” 

Pain squeezed at you mercilessly, tight and almost bone-crunching. You stepped closer, your brain slowly putting it all together, realization hitting. Then your bottom lip trembles as you reach out, taking hold of his hand and squeezing it. “I’m sorry,” you manage to say after a moment, “that must have been -” Another pause, trying to settle your lungs into a steadier breathing pattern. 

He squeezed your hand, looking at you, catching your gaze and holding it, unwavering. “I went to her funeral in a church far bigger than this one with twice the congregation. And later that day, when they put her down into the ground, I listened to the Monsignor pray over her soul.” He looked away again, this time up at the beams in the ceiling. “And I really listened to what he was saying for the first time. And I don’t know why, I just suddenly felt…” He trailed off, and you moved your hand further up his arm, willing him to continue by pressing your fingertips gently into his forearm. 

He smiled at the ceiling, faint and apologetic. “I felt at peace. Everything clicked into place. As stupid as that sounds. It was like something I couldn’t understand but needed. And, well,” he shrugged. 

“At last, it finally made sense to me,” he muttered. “The power God holds over us was always right there.” Then he turned to face you, his fingers reaching and resting on your cheek, tracing the soft skin of your jaw. “And now, I stand before you - finding these feelings again, the first true connection I’ve felt in years. I don’t mean to doubt anything…but I don’t know how to...” 

He let his voice drift off before tucking your hair behind your ear, movements tender. You wondered what he could see in your expression. 

“How did she die?” You asked quietly as if the question would destroy something in the air, but you needed to ask it anyway. 

The corners of his mouth trembled as he stroked his thumb along your jawline, offering you a small, grim smile. “She was mad at something, drank herself sick. Decided a joy ride on a motorcycle might be a good idea,” he turned his gaze to the ceiling again, and it finally hit you that he kept doing that as a trick to keep himself from crying. “She lost control and swerved, hit a wall head-on. Died on impact. Stupid girl with the dumbest ideas. She used to talk about seeing if the world curved or if the stars continued forever. She was funny and smart - but not as smart as she should have been. Her blood alcohol level came back three times the legal limit.” 

“That’s horrible,” you breathed. The puzzle pieces were assembled together. A crash. Drunk. How similar it was to your mother. Only your mother hadn’t met death head-on. It was still one of those things that made you wonder; which would have been worse? The chance was so similar yet unique. Still, as Father Sylus spoke about it, you swore you felt the faint sorrow he must still carry within himself.

“Sylus, I’m -” 

“Don’t be sorry.” He said, finally regaining a certain poise about his face, somehow managing to look warm even at this moment, smiling very softly. 

At his words, you realized you were breathing harder than before, and it didn’t go unnoticed as he scanned your face. You didn’t know what was wrong with you; you felt an emotion you could no longer explain. He had experienced loss, same as you, just not in the same way. 

Father Sylus let out a dry snort. “It’s not a happy memory, but something good comes from pain. Distrust to trust. Fear to courage. Hatred to love. To an extent, those things make you understand and appreciate everything.” 

You nodded, unable to stop yourself from wrapping your arms around his middle, convincing yourself you would forget how to breathe if you didn’t. You embraced him because it felt like the right thing to do, the smoothness of his shirt beneath your fingertips. His hand ran up along your side until it rested on your neck's base, soft, gentle, and warm. He exhaled a little before resting his chin on the top of your head. 

As he held you, you realized that this was what you had wanted. This was what you had really been aching for. Everything shifted again, changing, rushing with a tangle of nerves and dizziness. Nothing else would settle more easily than being cradled right there, where you could breathe him in. 

“Hey, do you -” He leaned back, both hands cupping your face, tilting it to meet his own. It took him a moment to formulate his question. “I shouldn’t ask, but - do you still want me?” 

Of course you did. More than anything. 

But even then, you should have stepped away. Should have walked out without another word, back to whatever fucking regular life you thought you had. But with whatever strength you had left, you pushed everything aside and quietly said, “Yes.” 

He had pressed you against the wooden door of the office, pinning you in place after dragging you in there and shutting the door. Not that you really had any intention of going anywhere. Not with his lips moving against yours, the desperation sending sparks along your skin.  His tongue darted out, parting your lips and moving into your mouth. Hungry and forceful and tasting every inch.

“You know,” he said as he pulled back, taking a second to breathe, “It’s so hard to be good when you’re so…” He trailed off, leaving you to only imagine what he would say. 

No, you had no words or any logical thoughts, really. Perhaps this was the closest thing to heaven you’d ever feel, surely. And Father Sylus ran his hands down your sides, slow and possessive, grabbing fistfuls of your sweater and bunching it up. Heat began spreading throughout your body as his fingertips crept underneath and stoked along the sensitive skin. 

“Will you let me in?” He mumbled, his lips now on the underside of your jaw as his palms spanned across your stomach as if trying to map out every inch of exposed skin. The blood pounded in your veins, pulsing in rhythm with your heartbeat.

“If this is what it feels like to be tempted,” you mused, gasping as he sucked on the skin above your collarbone, gripping the front of his shirt. “I have already failed. Miserably.” 

Letting out a hot breath that sounded an awful lot like laughter, he pulled away, a smile stretching across his lips, amused. “I suppose you really have,” he chuckled. His hands gripped your hips and spun you around so you were against his desk. Then he ducked down to press more kisses along your throat. The shivers returned as he lifted your sweater over your head, tossing it aside with another wicked grin. And for the first time, you noticed the hint of a dimple in the corner of his mouth. 

After a moment, Father Sylus fumbled with the buttons of his shirt until that, too, was discarded, skin suddenly bare. The sight made you stop, observing for a moment. For the first time, your fingers reached out and touched the skin of his chest, moving over the muscles and across his stomach. You marveled at the way he flinched slightly, inhaling sharply at your touch. 

Everything felt…hot, heavy, and inappropriate in the best way. 

And before you knew it, his hands were running up along the bare skin of your stomach, a barely-there brush that made your breath hitch. Then his hands were behind your back, unhooking your bra as his lips found yours again, rough and fervent. As it was removed, there was not a second of delay before his hands cupped both of your breasts, squeezing and drawing his thumbs over your nipples. 

“You’re so beautiful,” his hands shifted, fingers resting along the waistband of your jeans. 

It was like every little action was becoming overwhelming, sending pulsing waves through every nerve, vein, and muscle. When he popped the button, slid the zipper, and slowly eased the jeans down, the pulsing only got stronger—dizzying with its intensity. It was challenging to focus on anything else that would make more sense. Your mind was clouded. 

“Wait,” you breathed, sitting on the desk, pulling the clip from your hair and tossing it to the floor, the waves tumbling out. His hands never left you, still roaming over every little centimeter of you they could get access to, “I -” 

It didn’t need to be said, whatever it was. Because a grin broke out across his lips. A bright, glorious grin as Father Sylus pressed another harsh kiss to your lips like he could swallow the words down.

Stepping closer, he maneuvered you onto your back, your legs dangling over the edge of the desk. The smooth, cool wood pressed against the length of your spine and shoulders as you heard something that sounded like a book fall somewhere behind you. He gripped the soft flesh of your thighs, blunt nails digging in. Breath hitching, your heart thumped at the roughness and passion of his movements. Something animalistic and unrestrained lay just beneath the surface, waiting, ready. 

“Let me,” he urged quietly, fingers winding over the lace underwear, dragging them down the length of your legs. Fingers stroked up again, curling and caressing your inner thighs, one hand finally reaching the place where you were already desperate, soaking wet, and aching to be touched. Without hesitation, a digit dipped, sliding along your slick folds and slipping in easily. The motion made you bite down on your tongue as his other hand ran along the underside of your knee, urging your leg up and apart. 

You felt the pad of his thumb gliding over the little bundle of nerves, back and forth in a way that made you groan. 

“You are,” his voice was low, almost a growl, and his teasing continued. “So gorgeous, laying there. I can’t stop looking at you.” One finger became two. Slick and hot as they moved into you, each stroke moving deeper. All too suddenly, his lips were crashing down against yours, kissing you hard and desperately as if set on devouring you whole. 

The only thing keeping you stable was grabbing his shoulder and his upper arm. The sudden rise of pressure rushed around you. His thumb slipped, pressing down a bit more on your clit, drawing another gasp from you, a sound that filled the room. Then he pulled his hand away, an invisible weight settling when the digits were gone, leaving you empty and still aching for more. 

“I’m on birth control,” you managed, eyes blinking rapidly as you processed that this, in fact, was actually about to happen. The fullness beneath your belly was spooling tighter, coiling. 

It was only a few seconds; that’s all it took for him to undo his belt buckle, his length freed. Straining, leaking, begging to be inside you. The size of it makes you swallow a certain anxious lump in your throat. 

“Please.” The word spilled out before you could stop it. The coil inside you grew more and more tense and throbbing. You needed it now; the consequences didn’t matter, nor did the guilt or shame. “Please.”

His breathing hitched as if a long controlled flame within had been ignited. One of his hands rested on your hip, the other hooking under your opposite knee, parting you further and steadying himself. The tip of his cock pressed at your center. You didn’t have any time to prepare because, at that very moment, he was pushing further, sliding into you inch by inch. 

The heat and fullness and pleasure coursed, trembling through you. 

“Sweetheart,” he breathed, face buried in the crook of your neck, but you could hear the grin in his tone, the soft desperation in his voice. “You, you -” but his breath choked off as he pushed all the way inside, the moan that ripped through him cracked and hoarse. 

It took you a moment to feel him fully, gasping for air and dazed beyond what was really necessary. Holding tight, you wrapped an arm around his neck, exhaling hard. The room became a haze around the two of you, the entire moment almost suspended, paused, put on hold. 

When he moved his hips again, you whimpered as he hit somewhere deep, and your pleasure spiked. 

“Fuck,” he whispered against your skin, raising himself just enough to look at you, eyes glinting with a certain fervor. A little dark, a little feral, something wildly possessive and hungry and yearning all at once. “Oh, fuck,” he hissed, gritting his teeth and closing his eyes. Another jolt shot through you. Another strong thrust, this one harder than the last, followed by another. And another. It took a minute for him to set a rhythm, but when he did - you were sure the air was being pushed from your lungs each time. 

You couldn’t do anything but hang on. His mouth met yours in a sloppy, forceful kiss. Gasping and shuddering, you tried not to shout at the next jolt. The constant grind fills you every time. Deeper and sharper. The steady, thrumming pleasure. Intense and focused, as if Father Sylus were on a mission. Searching for something. Finding each sweet spot with whatever desperate greed drove him. Like now that he’d had the taste of something forbidden, he wanted the best of it - anything you could offer. 

He shifted slightly, and before you knew it, he hooked your leg over his shoulder, the deep angle making you arch from the desk. 

One hand tangled in his hair, the other on his shoulder, gripping hard and pulling him closer, trying to keep him buried deep inside of you. The friction built, the pace driving forward and drawing the pressure up, leaving you malleable and aching for release. But somehow, wanting it to last as long as possible. 

When the pleasure spooled tighter and tighter, every breath came short, coming fast and shorter. Until finally with one long, breathy whimper of an exhale, release washed over you, crashing like a wave. His name slipped out of your mouth, some deep, instinctual part of your brain keeping you present enough to utter it, still pulsing around him, shaking. 

And that brought him there, a little broken sound falling from his lips. Hips snapping, driving just the slightest bit further until he groaned into the side of your neck, spilling inside you. After a moment, the stillness settled between the two of you, heavy and thick. There was no actual sound other than ragged breathing. 

You stared at the ceiling, trembling and a bit boneless, wholly dumbfounded and satisfied. Then, with every ounce of energy left, you sat up, placing a hand on his chest.

“You okay?” 

A rush flooded through you at his question, and you struggled to make sense - to be logical and reasonable. 

“Yeah,” you said quickly, “I just. I…” What was the right wording? You trailed off, eyes focused somewhere beyond him. Struggling, you kept your eyes away. How could you possibly articulate the warmth that had settled over you, the lift in your confusion that had been gnawing at you until this moment? How could you explain feelings that make no real sense? 

“I feel at peace.” A near whisper because your words made it tangible, whatever it was. And really, you did feel lighter. It was as if something weighing on your shoulders had lifted in a way that wasn’t just because of the act that had been performed. 

“Really?” A sharp inhale of his breath. 

You nodded, reaching out to hold his face and running your thumbs along his cheekbones. Father Sylus slowly returned the nod, a tentative but wonderful, hopeful smile quirking up his lips—something bright and genuine, untouched by bitterness or remorse.

Serenity had sunken in with a comforting familiarity. Settling inside, like the feeling of returning home. Like the truth had opened its door. Acceptance and serenity. Understanding. Clarity, even. The knowledge you weren’t as broken or faulty as you thought. 

A moment passed, no words spoken. Then, still breathless and maybe a bit disbelieving, Father Sylus reached out and traced a cross on your brow with his thumb. 

“Did you just -” You blinked, a bit indignant as you huffed. “Did you just…bless me?”

He looked a bit sheepish, hands resting on your shoulders, thumbs rubbing gentle circles along your collarbone. “Guess I did.” With a slight chuckle, he leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss on your forehead. 

Tag list: @celestialforce, @readerxyourbabe, @babyx91

[iamnmbr3]

As a massive Drarry fan myself I just want to know your reasons for loving them? <3

To some extent I think it's the "I just think they're neat" meme. On a certain level, it's hard to define why I like anything. I just do, ya know? But yeah I love their characters and the complexity of their relationship and how it deepens both their arcs.

I love how they have been part of each other's lives since day 1, each one's story divergent from the other's and yet inextricably linked. Draco is present for/involved with so many pivotal moments for Harry - becoming a seeker, successfully conjuring a Patronus for the first time, learning he is a Parselmouth, learning Expelliarmus, using Sectum Sempra, gaining the Hawthorn wand and consequently defeating Voldemort etc. And many many more.

Similarly Harry is indirectly the cause of the Malfoy family's downfall, the only person Draco willingly tries to use an Unforgivable on, the only living person to witness Draco's hesitation on the Astronomy Tower, the cause of Draco's courageous decision at the Manor to lie to Voldemort, and the center of Draco's whole life for 5 books. I mean really - everything Draco does in books 1-5 is just summarized as: "Draco Malfoy and How Do I Get Potter to Pay Attention to Me?" Everything from spying on Hagrid's illegal pet dragon to going after the hippogriff to joining the Inquisitorial Squad centers around Harry.

Their stories are inextricably linked in so many ways - both petty and profound. And for all that they are in one sense enemies (first rivals at school and then soldiers on opposite sides of a war) they can never bring themselves to hate or even distrust each other like you'd expect. Whenever one is actually in trouble they always save each other immediately and without question. In book 6 Draco sends the other Slytherins away before confronting Harry and turns his back on Harry to get his wand, safe in the knowledge that Harry will not attack him, or if he does, it won't be that bad and then when Harry finds himself totally at Draco's mercy a moment later he doesn't for a minute fear that Draco will kill him or turn him over to Voldemort or even seriously hurt him. I can't imagine Harry reacting this way if he was in a similarly helpless position around Lucius or Pettigrew or Bellatrix or any other Death Eater.

And they also understand each other so deeply. Harry immediately can tell when something is off with Draco - in book 6 as well as in earlier books. Draco never for a moment believes that Harry is the Heir of Slytherin even when the whole school thinks he is and understands that Harry hates his fame (while even Ron sometimes struggles to accept this).

I am fascinated and compelled by how they circle each other and are enemies who can't quite hate each other and who are inexorably drawn to each other, how they understand each other so deeply and so intuitively, how their wit and personalities and abilities are so complimentary and so compatible, and how their stories connect but also diverge. There's so much potential there and it just feels so right to me. Plus, hilariously, JKR accidentally made it outrageously canon. Draco and Harry's fascination with each other is a major part of their characters and their stories which really can't be ignored or removed.