#i can't picture what i read it's so frustrating

[bluehandprint]

It doesn't happen often but sometimes my brain is just too loud and i can't read

[lala-blahblah]

I will never make this because it would be for an audience of one (me) but ever since reading "If we Were Villains" (story about serious drama kids in college who perform shakespeare and deal with a murder) I have been entertaining the thought of a crack fic crossover with High School Musical The Musical The Series where the staff decides they will no longer put on shakespeare after the tragic accident that happened at Thanksgiving, because Shakespeare plays would only increase the tension and drama. So they hire Ms. Jen who decides their spring play will actually be High School Musical (which exists in the 90s in this universe) and it ruins the vibe so much that everyone gives up on being dark and mysterious because they're universally pissed at Ms Jen for making them learn choreoraphed basketball dancing.

[vadlings]

Represention of Autistic Frustration in Laios Dungeon Meshi

Like many other autistic people, I related strongly to Laios Touden while reading Dungeon Meshi. This post isn't going to spend time disputing whether he displays autistic traits or not—while I could do that, I want to focus on why specifically his portrayal struck a chord with me in a way the writing of most other autistic-coded characters has not.

Disclaimer: as the above suggests, this post is strongly informed by my own experiences as an autistic person, as well as the experiences of my neurodivergent friends with whom I have spoken about this subject. I want to clarify that in no way am I asserting my personal experience to be some Universal Autistic Experience. This post is about why Laios' character feels distinct and significant to me in regard to autistic representation, and while I'm at it, I do feel that I have interesting things to say about autistic representation in media generally. This also got a bit long, so I'm sticking it under a read more. Spoilers for up to the end of chapter 88 below.

The thing that stands out most to me in regard to Laios' characterisation is the open anger he displays when someone points out his inability to read other people. This comes up prominently in his interactions with "Shuro" (Toshiro Nakamoto):

The frustration pictured above (Laios continuing to physically tussle with Toshiro, using crude language toward him) becomes even more notable when you remember that this is Laios, who, outside of these interactions, is not easily fazed and often exists as a lighthearted contrast to the rest of the cast. Then we get to Laios' nightmare.

In Falin's words: "Nightmares love emotional wounds. Wounds you hold in your heart. Things that give you stress, or things that were traumatic for you. They aggravate memories like that and cause the dreamer to have terrible dreams." (chapter 42, page 10.) (damn. i'm properly citing for this post and everything.)

Thus, Laios' nightmare establishes an important fact: even if he is unable to recognise social blunders while he's making them, he's at least subconsciously aware that other people operate on a different wavelength to him, and that he's an outsider in many of his social circles (both past and present). His dream-father's disparaging words stress the impact this has had upon his ability to live up to the expectations set out for him, and we also get a panel of kids who smirk at him (presumably former bullies to some degree). Toshiro's appearance only hammers home how much Laios is still both humiliated and angered by his misunderstanding of their relationship.

I've thought a lot about anger as concomitant to the autistic experience. When autistic representation portrays ostracization, it's generally from an angle of the autistic character being upset at how conforming to neurotypical norms doesn't come easily to them; as a result, they express a desire to 'get better' at meeting neurotypical standards, a desire to become more 'normal' (whether the writing implies this is a good thing or not). In contrast, not once does Laios go, "I need to perform better in my social interactions, and try to care less about monsters, because that's what other people find weird." His frustration is directed outward rather than inward, and as a result, it's the people around him who are framed as nonsensical.

The Winged Lion starts delineating Laios' anger, and Laios' reaction is to think to himself, "It can sense all my thoughts, huh?" (chapter 88, page 16.) This is the scene that really resonated with me. I'm not saying I have never felt the desire to conform to neurotypical norms that is borne from insecurity, but primarily, I know that I don't want to work toward becoming 'normal'—I don't want to change myself for people who follow rules I find nonsensical. It's the difference between, "Oh god, why can't I get it," and, "WHY CAN'T YOU GET IT?" (phrasing here courtesy of my friend Miles @dogwoodbite). And for me personally, Dungeon Meshi is the first time I've seen this frustration and the resultant voluntary isolation from other people portrayed in media so candidly. Laios' anger is not downplayed or written to be easily palatable, either.

The culmination of Laios' frustrations in this scene wherein we learn that Laios has fantasised about "a pack of monsters attacking a village" drives home just how alienated he really feels. I need not go into his wish to become a monster himself, redolent of how many autistic people identify/have identified with non-humans to some degree as a result of a percieved disconnect from society (when I was younger, I wanted to be a robot. I still kind of do.)

Obviously, wishing death upon other people is a weighty thing, but the unfiltered nature of this page is what deeply resonated with me. The Winged Lion is laying Laios' deepest and most transgressive desires bare, and they are desires that are a product of lifelong ostracization by others (whether intentional or unintentional). This is the brand of anger I'm familiar with, and that my neurodivergent friends express being familiar with, but that I haven't seen portrayed in writing so explicitly before—in fact, it surprised me because most well-meaning autistic representation I've experienced veers toward infantilisation in trying make the autistic character's struggles easy for neurotypicals to sympathise with.

Let's also not neglect the symbolism inherent to Laios' daydream. "A pack of monsters attacking a village". Functionally, monsters are Laios' special interest—he percieves everything first and foremost through his passion for monsters. His daydream of monsters attacking—killing—humans, is fundamentally a daydream of the world he understands (monsters) overthrowing the world that is so illogical to him, that has repeatedly shunned him (other people). I joked to my friends that it's an autistic power fantasy, and it actually sort of is. And in it, his identity is aligned with that of the monsters, while his anger manifests in a palpable dissociation from the rest of humanity. This is one manga page. It's brief. It's also very, very raw to me. I think about it often.

To conclude, I love Laios Dungeon Meshi. This portrayal of open frustration in an autistic character meant a lot to me, and I hope I've sufficiently outlined why. Also, feel free to recommend media with autistic representation in the notes if you've read this far—I would really like to see if there is more of this nature. Thank you for reading. I'm very tired and should probably sleep now.

[intromortal]

LIQUID SWEETENER

jake takes care of his sick girlfriend, but with an unexpected twist.

PAIRING jake x f!reader

CONTENT smut. mdni. established relationship, reader has a fever, she's very annoying tbh but it's bc she's ME! it's okay tho bc jake is equally as bad. spitting medicine in someone's mouth... is this sanitary? absolutely not but i also can't bring myself to care

WORD COUNT 3.8k

a.n happiest birthday to my love !!!! nia era where she doesn't let everything she writes rot in her google docs bc she's not happy enough with it??? gasp. maybe. thank you to my lovely @ak4e7a for being so patient with me and reading what i write before anyone else so i don't look stupid i love you mama

WARNINGS fingering, spit, biting, implied oral f!rec, cum eating

Jake’s pout got somehow more pronounced than what it already was when you, once again, refused to just take your medicine. He’d been trying to get you to swallow at least a tiny dose of the sweet fever syrup for the best part of an hour, after every attempt to get you to down any kind of pill resulted in you just hiding them somewhere underneath your cozy pajamas, against your burning skin. He even made sure to pick out a syrup that wouldn’t taste straight up radioactive, knowing you well enough to predict you’d make a big fuss about the nasty taste. Yeah, he could picture it right then in his head, how you’d gag dramatically at the smell and just beg him to go get the tablets again.

For how much you hated being sick, you seemed to dislike the idea of getting better quickly even more.

“You would feel so much better if you just took your medicine,” he sighed, resting the cap filled to the brim with sticky honey flavored syrup on the crowded comforter, careful not to leave it too close to the edge.

“Not even that sick,” you huffed back, trying to wiggle yourself out of the cocoon of blankets Jake wrapped you in as soon as you fell asleep.

“Yeah?” Jake looked at you with an arched brow, before pointing his head to the little mountain of discarded, snot filled tissues overtaking your comforter, the ones he was in the middle of throwing away. “This right here is breeding ground for bioterrorism allegations.”

He stopped you from getting out of bed, securing the warm fuzzy covers around you again. “No need to leave, just tell me what you need and I’ll get it for you,” he whispered against your lashes, placing a soft kiss to your closed eyelid.

“Just wan’ you.”

“But you have me baby, I’m right here, yeah?” he snickered, plump lips thinning into that gorgeous wide smile of his.

He knew damn well what you meant, a frustrated grumble spilling out of you at the thought. Cheeky bastard, of course he wanted you to say it out loud. The quiet part.

“Want…more,” you cranked one of your eyes open, struggling when a droplet from the wet towel on your forehead Jake promptly changed every fifteen minutes slipped in it. You blinked a few times, adjusting to the light in the room before looking over to Jake, his grin still wide and brightening up his whole face, his head turned to the side as he observed you lovingly, a strand of hair longer than the rest tickling the side of his nose.

If Jake had to be completely honest with himself, he wasn’t particularly sad at you being a little sick.

Sure, it sounded mean to say out loud. But you were not doing so badly or in any kind of pain that would worry him, and he enjoyed doting on you like this, with you having no choice but to just take his love. Can’t blame a man for wanting to take care of his girl, especially when said girl had a streak of refusing to just lay back and let him do the work.

You were always hiding your pain and vulnerability from everyone around you, so he enjoyed knowing he was helping make it at least a little better for once.

You—however—wouldn’t exactly agree that he was making you feel better, definitely not by walking around with damp hair from the shower and intoxicating the air around you with the lingering salty marine and musky notes of the cologne he always sprayed on his fresh change of clothes. A smell you usually related to comfort and home, making your head spin in the best way possible, a whirlwind of anything but pure thoughts crowding your mind.

Jake took notice of the subtle shift in the air around you right away. You had been–subtly at first—laying down little hints for him to pick up, you craved him. Had been craving him for what felt like forever, ever since you got sick. A nagging hunger that just grew further with every hour he silently ignored it. Usually you would busy yourself with random tasks, keeping your thoughts clear of images of his hands, or his plush lips and how he always absentmindedly licked away at them or how—you get the idea. But being sick didn’t help, being physically weak and needing rest didn’t stop your mind from running wild. Made it worse, actually, since you had nothing to do but lay in your bed all day. If only he’d slide right next to you under your covers and—

“I know what you’re thinking,” Jake interrupted your thoughts, a hint of amusement shining through his smooth tone. You looked up to him hopefully, breath caught in your chest fearing the next few words he was about to say. “And you’re still too sick.”

Really not being dramatic, but you thought you felt a boulder crush you right on your chest. You groaned, turning to the other side so you could sulk properly without having to look at Jake’s stupidly handsome face. A face you would love to ride as soon as possible.

“No like, you actually hate me,” your voice was muffled by the pillow you were squishing your face against.

“What are you even doing.”

“Trying to suffocate myself since my man hates me,” you explained, grabbing the sides of the pillow and pushing them to cover your ears, making Jake erupt in a fit of boyish giggles.

“No I don’t, just want you to feel better first,” he barely whispered, the loving tone making your body feel light.

You suddenly pushed yourself up with your arms to look at him, nest of hair a mess from the speed of your movement, “I would feel sooo much better with your fingers deep inside me right now.”

He looked at you for a moment, really looked at you, assessing what to do in this situation. He too missed your touch, far more than what he was letting on. Even just sleeping next to you—a pillow fortress separating you two by your request—had turned out to be too much for him on multiple occasions, finding himself silently sneaking out of bed to go and take care of his sudden little problems in the bathroom.

As if sensing his resolve wavering, you added, “don’t I deserve a little reward?”

“A reward… for what?” Jake was thoroughly amused by your desperation. You rarely ever got like this, and he was enjoying every second of it, maybe even pushing it a little farther than what he usually would, ending up punishing himself a little along the way too. But he didn’t care, not when he didn’t know when the next time he’d get to this would be.

“Well of course! For having fought this fever tooth and nail and having come out of it alive.”

“You still have a fever though,” he deadpanned. “Could kick your ass right down at any given moment.”

“That.” you glared at him with all the fake anger you could muster up. “Is such a mean thing to even suggest.”

“Don’t you care about me getting sick? Made a scene all week and now you’re okay with me touching you?”

“First of all—I only made you keep the pillows between us the first two days. And like I told you, I feel better, so if—” the words died in your throat as you felt the bed dip underneath the weight of Jake’s knee. You looked up to him as he slowly got inside the covers, right next to you. His presence felt different, the soft look in his eyes overtaken by something more primal, and you couldn't help but feel like prey under his watchful gaze. It felt intimidating in a way you weren’t used to. It made you squeeze your legs together in search of any friction, your already feverish skin somehow feeling even hotter.

“Maybe you’re right,” Jake whispered against your cheek, his nose rubbing for a moment on your skin as he snuck an arm underneath your body, pulling you flush to his side. Even just that single touch sends an electrifying shiver down your spine. “Since you’re fully capable of talking my ear off…”

You reached for his hand wrapped comfortably around your waist and guided it down to cup your heat through your thin shorts, your own hand resting on top of his as you ground your pussy against it.

You took notice of how his breath hitched in his throat, his carefully crafted mask of calmness slipping as you used his hand, the illusion wearing off even more when he tried to hide it with a gulp, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. You knew he wanted it just as bad as you did, you were just willing to beg for it as long as it got you what you wanted. “I’ll—” you audibly gasped when he flexed his fingers just that tiny little bit you needed to be able to feel them press against your fluttering hole. “I’ll do anything, just please make me cum.”

“Anything?” he teased you, voice light and airy as he moved the fabric of the shorts out of his way. A deep chuckle tickled your neck, Jake’s mouth having dipped down do leave open mouthed kisses on the sensitive skin.

“Anything, just… please,” you whined, flexing your neck to allow him more space, his tongue dipping to lick a stripe down to the juncture of your neck.

If you hadn't been so deprived of Jake’s touch up until then, you would have found the way you were grinding up against his hand and moaning in his ear almost embarrassing. But you were desperate, so you couldn't bring yourself to care about how pathetic you probably looked.

Jake though, oh he enjoyed it thoroughly. His cock was stiff in his sweats, almost painfully so, from feeling how wet you were through your shorts. Dripping already and he had barely touched you. You were just so fucking hot.

“You’ll take your medicine then?” He moved his hand from your mound to grip your thigh, ignoring your weak one clawing at his arm in an attempt to get the little taste of pleasure he was giving you back. He kissed his teeth, his eyebrows furrowed in faux disapproval. “Use your words. What will you do?”

“Take my medicine,” you whimpered, looking into your boyfriend's eyes despite the tears aligning your waterline, and finding amusement swimming through his gaze. Little cheeky shit. Not that you were about to complain or anything.

“Theeeere we go,” Jake sang in your ear, placing a soft kiss behind it before dipping down once again and resuming his sweet torture. “You can be good once in a while.”

You nodded, lips thinning to keep quiet as if any wrong sound would make him change his mind and leave you hanging. The hand that was drawing circles on your thigh came up to hold your chin, carefully tilting it away from Jake’s mouth as he sucked on a particularly sensitive spot on your skin. He smoothed over your lips with his thumb, coaxing them to part once again.

“Let me hear how good you feel, baby,” he mumbled, mouth still latched on your neck, before taking a strong whiff off your neck. Had you not been so distracted by the wetness seeping out of your clenching hole onto your panties, you would've noticed how his eyes rolled all the way back in his skull at your smell.

His free hand finally slid under your shorts, a gasp leaving you because of how cold he felt. Jake was always warmer than you, but your fever made it so his touch felt icy against your skin. Your back arched slightly when one of his digits parted your sopping folds, your sensitivity heightened by the unusual difference of temperature.

“Poor little thing, she’s got a fever too,” he giggled into your neck, another digit joining in as he slowly dragged them from your clit to your hole to coat them in your juices. “But it’s okay, I’ll help her feel better.”

Usually you would’ve groaned at his stupid little jokes and pushed his face away. But this time, blame his voice being deeper and hoarser than normal or blame your fever, it got you clenching around nothing, cunt feeling emptier than ever while he took his sweet time playing with you.

Your head dug deeper into the pillow, hips lifting from the bed to follow Jake’s torturous movements, desperate to feel something more.

“So needy…” he breathed into your neck, going back to placing sloppy open mouthed kisses wherever he could reach.

A yelp left your mouth, eyes you didn't even notice you had closed shooting open when Jake bit down on the junction of your neck and shoulder, just enough to rip you out of the trance you were quickly falling into. He smoothed over the little bite mark with this tongue, a tingly sensation overtaking the pain in a matter of seconds, pleasure overriding anything else.

Jake finally prodded two of his digits into your hole, testing the waters, still careful not to push you too hard so soon. But your reaction was instantaneous, pussy hole fluttering against his fingertips right away, he just had to bite down on his bottom lip to keep most of his noises in. “God… I fucking love it when you act like a little slut.”

Jake was so fucking turned on, he could barely think about anything but your pussy. The only thought in his mind was get her off, make her feel good, get a taste of her sweet cunt, sweet pretty and oh so delicious cunt… like a broken record. He felt like he was born for this and this only, as if his mission in life was just that of pleasing you. And to think he had deprived himself of such bliss for even a few days… Something in you seemed different to him, almost animalistic, the way you rutted your hips against his hand as soon as he started scissoring his fingers inside you, the way you weren't even trying to hold in your moans like you usually would, mouth hanging open with a string of drool attached to your lips. And this was just from his fingers.

You yourself weren't doing any better, your brain basically turned to mush as you helped Jake get you off by essentially riding his fingers, despite how weak you felt from the fever. His fingers were so long, hitting all the right spots you knew you could never be able to reach by yourself, and his thick knuckles dragged against your walls so deliciously.

“S-so good,” you gasped when he turned his fingers just the right way, hitting the spot he knew had you coming undone in just a few strokes.

The room was filled with the slapping sounds of his palm against your drenched cunt, more and more slick dripping down your thighs and onto the bed with every flick of his wrist, making it all that much more obscene and filthy. You could feel the familiar pressure building up in your tummy, and suddenly the overwhelming need to just grab onto something crashed on you, heavy and almost painful. You clawed at his shirt, eyebrows furrowed in deep pleasure, unaware of the fact that Jake was not facing you anymore.

He looked over his shoulder to the comforter, the cap filled with syrup still there amidst the mess. He twisted his body to grab it, careful not to slow down the relentless pace he was fingerfucking your cunt at. A few drops of the liquid spilled onto his shirt as he took a sip of it, a grimace overtaking his features as he tried his best to hold it in his mouth. You were still a moaning mess by his side, tiny brain turned to putty so much so you didn't even register anything else happening around you, so hyper focused on the pleasure your boyfriend was providing you.

“J-jake, I’m so close.”

Perfect timing.

Jake grabbed your jaw to turn your head towards his, applying the pressure he always did to signal it was time to part your pretty lips and take his spit, like the good well behaved girl he knew you to be. And you did just that; immediately following his movements like he had trained you to, tongue sticking out too for good measure. He bent down slightly to aim better. But this time, instead of the slightly bitter taste of his saliva you expected, he let small amounts of medicine fall on your tongue.

You uselessly tried to back away from him, but he held you in place, fingers still working inside your cunt. Nor did he allow you to close your mouth despite your surprised gasp. His hand held your jaw open, grasp getting firmer everytime you tried to break free of it. After all, you made a promise, and he was going to make sure you fulfilled it.

“You weren't going to take it, huh?” Jake mouthed against your lips once he had made sure you swallowed every last drop of the thick honeyed syrup, holding eye contact with you through it all, fingers never once slowing down their pace. “Little dumb pet thinks she can outsmart me.”

He smashed his mouth on yours, not so much a kiss as a silencing of any complaint you were about to spit it at him. Those turned to even more whines when he finally brought his thumb to your clit, drawing harsh circles on it as he fucked you to your orgasm. It was almost instantaneous, but you just couldn't have helped it even if you tried; you were so close already, his stiff cock rubbing against your thigh and his pants hot in your mouth but his thumb so cold against your neglected clit

“That’s it baby, so good for me yeah.” Jake’s fingers gradually slowed down inside you, making sure you got every last bit of pleasure you could possibly experience from this high. He too was relishing in how your cunt pulsed against his digits, making it harder to move them inside you. Oh he wished it were his cock being constricted like that instead. But that could wait.

You finally felt like you could breathe again, chest heaving to catch in as much air as you could, forehead all sweaty from the exertion.

The sheets were drenched around you, and you couldn't even pinpoint when it had happened, but you could immediately tell you weren't the only one who had made a mess. Your gaze wandered to Jake’s pants, a very evident stain on his crotch catching your attention. And fuck, if you weren't ready to do it all over again.

Jake looked absolutely divine; hair disheveled and soaked from the sweat, boxers and sweatpants full of cum. A waste truly.

You snuck your hand in his pants, ignoring the loud hiss from overstimulation Jake let out when you wrapped your hand around his cock and pumped a few times, your thumb swiping on his exposed head to collect some of the cum covering it.

Jake watched you, mouth ajar and cock stiffening again right away, as you licked your fingers clean. He slid his own fingers out of your cunt, lapping at them like a man starved, hoping to work you up as much as you just did to him. His heart raced in his chest as you kept looking at him, a little smile playing on your lips.

“That was so…” you spoke up, giggling when Jake interrupted you by throwing himself over your figure, capturing your lips in an actual kiss this time. A very messy, very wet kiss. Allowing you to savor your own taste mixed with his and sweetened by the medicine.

“I think the word you’re looking for is hot.”

“Dramatic,” you interjected. “So, so dramatic.”

Jake curled an eyebrow at you. “You were the one acting like it’d kill you to swallow some syrup. And actually, let’s not forget–” He placed a quick kiss on your nose before pushing you against the mattress further, his entire weight on you. “Ohhh no Jake! Please my Jakey! If I don’t get your cock right now I will DIE!”

“Well I still hav–”

“And won’t.” he deadpanned, sensing where you were trying to stir the conversation. “But I’ve got a few ideas.”

You smiled to yourself, feeling featherlight kisses making their way down your body, with his messy hair tickling your skin every so often. He placed a soft kiss on your mound, whining dramatically when you grabbed a few strands of his hair to stop him. He rested his head on your thigh, puppy-like eyes looking up at you, almost pleading for permission to continue what he started.

“I really don’t want you to get sick,” you said, voice coming out in a whisper full of care, your fingertips playing with his hair and enjoying the way he nuzzled his head further against your skin.

“Well if I were to get sick by touching you… I’d say the deal is sealed by now, no?” He placed another kiss on your thigh, teeth slightly grazing the plush skin when you took too long to contemplate whether to give in or not. “Actually, I think some of this syrup would heal me right now.”

“Jake. I’m being serious.”

“What could I possibly even catch from eating you out that I haven't already by exchanging spit with you? Best pussy in the world disease?” He laughed at his own joke, gaining a roll of the eyes from you. “Let me tell you, the chances of that happening are close to zero anyway. I don’t have a pussy but I am the proud owner of a very fat co–”

“You are downright insufferable.”

“Okay so shut me up with a mouthful of this pu–”

The rest of the sentence was muffled against your mound as you pushed his head down, deciding you heard enough for the day. And the week.

“Okay, okay. Go on,” you giggled as you laid back once again, a deep sigh following as soon as his expert tongue made contact with your cunt.

[tarotwithavi]

Their words during the act

18+ reading

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

How to choose a pile?

Close your eyes and take a deep breath and ask the angels to show you the right pile for you and open your eyes. The first pile that catches your attention is the right pile for you.

This is a general reading so only take what resonates and leave the rest.

Pictures do not belong to me, they belong to their rightful owners. I only own the content of this post.

Masterlist

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＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Pile 1

During the act, their words might reveal a sense of frustration or impatience at first. There’s an intensity in how they express themselves, almost like they’re trying to let go of control, unable to perfect every move or hold back what they're feeling. They may stumble with their words, flustered, saying things like "I can't wait any longer" showing a hunger that’s a bit unpolished but raw and real.

Then, as the moment deepens, the tone shifts. Their words start to soften, becoming more nurturing and sensual. You might hear them complimenting you, speaking about how much they desire you, calling you beautiful, irresistible, like they can't get enough. Their tone will be tender yet filled with admiration, like they are completely taken by you, worshiping your body and presence, expressing just how much you’re affecting them.

They may speak with a sense of excitement, almost playful, like they’re riding the waves of chance and pleasure. “This is so good,” or “You make me feel so good" they might say, hinting that they feel swept up in the unpredictability of the moment, like everything has aligned perfectly for this intense, thrilling experience. Their words would reflect how exhilarating and wild this is for them, like they’re surrendering to the heat of it all. Their words will become even more spontaneous, a mix of lust and sweet obsession. They might whisper things like "You’re everything I’ve ever wanted," their voice filled with both urgency and affection. Each word they say comes out between heavy breaths, showing how completely lost they are in you, almost as if they’re trying to express something they can’t fully put into words. Their hands and body language speak just as loudly, but the words , those hot, unguarded murmurs carry a sense of devotion and a craving for more. You can tell they’re hooked, every word dripping with desire and a hint of surrender to the intensity between you both. It’s like they’re on a ride they never want to get off, and they want to take you along for every twist and turn.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Pile 2

Okay so the message I am getting is that their words will be sharp and clear, no hesitation or uncertainty. They'll know exactly what they want, expressing it with confidence. You’ll hear things like "You drive me wild" words that show they’ve been craving this for a while.

There will be a sense of admiration, like they’re captivated by your every move. Compliments will pour in, heartfelt and genuine. They might tell you how beautiful or irresistible you are, making you feel like you’re the center of their world, like nothing else exists but the two of you. At times, their words might change into a playful, almost innocent tone , teasing and sweet. They could whisper things like, "You make me feel things I can’t even explain," making you feel desired and special. But there's a deep, mysterious side to it too. Some of their words might catch you off guard, adding an element of intrigue. They'll play with your mind as much as your body, saying things that hint at deeper feelings or hidden desires, like "I’ve been thinking about this for so long" or "You’re all I dream about." They might confuse you for a second about what they actually want to say. Their words will come faster, breathless, almost like they can’t keep up with how much they want you. They'll be raw, direct, and filled with urgency "I need you right now," or "I can’t wait any longer." Everything will happen quickly, almost like they're overwhelmed by their own passion.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Pile 3

Oh~~ this is the spiciest pile. Some of you might also want to read pile 1. For you guys they might start by teasing you with the idea that you are their world, saying things like, "I’ve been waiting for this moment… you have no idea how much you mean to me."

There's a sense of completeness, as if you are the missing piece they've been longing for. As things heat up, they might hesitate for a moment, teasingly asking "Do you want this? Show me." They’re testing the waters, wanting you to make the choice, but deep down, you both know you want the same thing.

Their words might be a blend of challenge and desire, encouraging you to match their energy, almost like a back-and-forth game. You’ll also hear a shift in tone, something more focused. Their words will be encouraging. They’ll want you to know they’re completely present, working with you, eager to build the heat higher, step by step.

You’ll also hear confidence in their voice, something that makes you feel secure and desired. "I know what you want… just let me take care of you." There’s a strong, steady vibe to their words, showing that they’re here to give you exactly what you need, with no rush , just deliberate, confident moves.

They may whisper something along the lines of, "Is this enough? Do you need more?" There's a brief flash of vulnerability, as if they want reassurance that this moment is as meaningful for you as it is for them. I see that they might have a fear of not being able to satisfy you the way you want. So they'll be ensuring that you feel good and comfortable.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

[pomefioredove]

Hiya! Hope you're doing okay, and take it easy if you haven't been!

For the flirty prompts starters list, could you maybe do: "Stop saying things that make me want to kiss the hell out of you." with Vil? I think it'd be a good one

Thanks!

(I hope you have fun writing this if you do! No biggie if you don't or if someone else already asked!)

GIGGLING SO MUCH

summary: "stop saying things that make me want to kiss the hell out of you" type of post: short fic characters: vil additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, Vil experiencing cuteness aggression.jpg, not proofread a part of this event

Vil considers himself to be an eloquent man.

After all, how one speaks is just as important as how one carries themselves, and every last inch of him, from his looks to his body language to his words, have been refined to perfection. Each a golden thread in the dazzling tapestry that is Vil Schoenheit.

And yet, despite that, he still can't seem to find a way to describe you.

Frustrating is not quite right. Epel is frustrating. Those first years you insist on spending your precious time with are frustrating. But you...

You are not annoying, nor are you incompetent. His usual vocabulary for the students of NRC is useless when it comes to you.

...And different is too vague.

Vil just seems to forget what to do with his hands when you're around.

You look so soft in the golden afternoon light of the lounge, which is distracting enough as it is. Now you're giggling in the way you do, and he can't concentrate, and... what was he doing, again?

"Stop that," he says, plainly, not looking up from the textbook he'd been reading. Or trying to, anyway. He'd lost his place some time ago.

You make this... sound, this confused little hum, and he pictures you tilting your head to the side like a puppy. Sevens, you're just so...

He huffs. "I said, stop,"

"Stop what?"

Clueless little thing. Vil sighs, finding it within himself to make eye contact. He'd given up on finishing this assignment early, anyway.

"You know what,"

You stare back, unblinking. Are you really so oblivious? No, there's no way you aren't doing this on purpose, whatever it is, just to get on his nerves. Did those friends of yours put you up to this?

He should scold you. He invited you to study with him, a luxury which many would pay millions for, and here you are, being...

Ugh. He still can't think of the right word.

"Am I being too loud?" you ask, a confused lilt in your voice.

Sevens, you are so dense, he wants to just grab you and squeeze you like a stress ball until a thought comes out of that empty head.

The thought of that is no help. If anything, it just bothers him more.

He pinches the bridge of his nose. Are you really not doing this on purpose? "No. You're distracting me,"

"Oh... sorry,"

...In such a soft, meek little tone, like you really feel bad about it, looking up at him with those eyes of yours... ugh. He wants to bite you, squeeze you in his arms until this overwhelming, restless feeling passes. You're so...

"It's... fine," Vil relents. "I don't think I would've gotten much done today, anyway."

You actually tilt your head to the side this time, worsening his condition. "Something on your mind?"

Sevens, what are you doing to him? He can't sit still. He pictures himself reaching across the table to pinch your cheeks, to kiss that sweet, worried expression off your face. The effect you have...

And you're not even doing anything!

"No," he says, his voice strained with the weight of the lie. "Just burnout. It's a busy time of year for me."

You seem to take that as a cue, standing from your seat with wide eyes and holding out a hand, much to his chagrin.

"You should be resting, then. Overworking yourself will only make things worse. Come on, let's go back,"

Such a determined expression on that pretty face of yours. There's just something about how you respond so innocently, so intent on caring for him, you're...

You're so...

Vil feels his heart drop. Oh, Sevens. That's the word.

You're so cute.

"Stop that," he snaps. He can feel his face warming. "This is the last time I'll ask."

A little flash of annoyance crosses your face at his dismissal. How adorable...

"Stop what?" You repeat.

Even your scoff is cute. His face feels hot. He can handle beautiful. Gorgeous, pretty, sexy, even, But not cute. And now he's getting himself all worked up over it, and you're being so sweet, and...

"Stop saying things that make me want to kiss the hell out of you!"

Nothing has ever had such an effect on him before.

After all, it would take something incredible to fluster Vil- and here he is, blurting out every thought he has, blushing like a schoolgirl as he realizes what just came out of his mouth.

Vil Schoenheit, suddenly terrified of being rejected. It was as if he'd woken up in a parallel universe.

Or died, and went to his own personal Hell.

The shock slowly wears off your face, and you... laugh.

You laugh.

"You're very forward,"

"I'll take that as a compliment, and not the way you meant it," he mumbles, crossing his arms over his chest. "Though I'm failing to find what's so amusing."

You move around the table to sit next to him, eyes gleaming. "How would you like me to react, then?"

Vil stares back. Was that... flirtation? Perhaps you're not so oblivious, after all...

But still cute.

Still very cute.

He sighs, though there's a smile playing at his lips now. "Save me the embarrassment of being rejected,"

"Hmm... I suppose that can be arranged,"

And with that, he cups your face in his hands and draws you in for that kiss.

[amiableness]

Peonies ; part four

Pairing: Theo Nott x Fem!Reader

Summary: Mattheo is in an awful mood after the party while Theo takes reader to the peony field.

Word Count: 4772

Warnings: Unrequited love & Mattheo and Theo get into it. Reader overthinks for a little bit. Mentions of drugging? One mention of Y/n. Let me know if there’s more!

A/N 💌 I can't tell you how nervous I am to post this, I feel like it's not my best work. But regardless, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter. As usual thank you to @moonpascal for reading, helping me with ideas, and just providing support and comfort. I love you endlessly!

SERIES MASTERLIST <3

“Did something happen last night between you and Mattheo?” Pansy asks, throwing the door open with an expectant look. Despite your low mood, you can’t help but crack a tiny smile at the sight of her—hair a tousled mess, mascara smudged beneath her eyes. She’s the perfect picture of someone who had way too much fun last night.

“Is there any particular reason you’re asking?” You reply cautiously, eyes following her as she saunters over and slips into bed beside you. She gives the blanket a hard tug, leaving you to huff in irritation when she claims more than her fair share.

“Because I heard him and Veronica fighting. I didn’t catch much, but I did hear your name.” Pansy looks you over, taking in your rumpled clothes and tired eyes. You’re not in much better shape than she is, and she can't tell if it’s the lingering effects of last night’s drinks or the aftermath of whatever happened with Mattheo.

“Merlin,” you sigh, rolling your eyes and sinking deeper into the warmth of your bed. You haven’t moved since Theo left about twenty minutes ago, and you’re not sure if you’ll find the energy to do so anytime soon. Honestly, the idea of staying curled up here is more tempting than you'd like to admit. “We got into it again last night.”

“Again?” Pansy raises an eyebrow, shifting to face you.

“Apparently, he does care.” Your voice is dripping with sarcasm and frustration.

“He told you that?” Pansy shifts so quickly it’s as if you’ve shocked her. Both of you know very well that Mattheo isn’t the type to open up about what he’s feeling. Years of watching him around his parents taught you why—with how many times you had seen them scold him for even a flicker of emotion, it was no wonder he kept everything locked up.

You sigh, staring up at the ceiling, “He said he wanted me to admit I have feelings for him too.” Pansy's eyes widen, her mouth falling open as she stares at you in disbelief.

“Feeling for him too?” She echoes, and you finally turn to meet her eyes with a weak nod. Your best friend sits there for a moment, studying your face carefully before choosing her next words. She knows she has a nasty habit of saying the first thing on her mind without considering that it might not be what you need to hear.

Pansy sits up, grabbing the pillow she was using and hugging it to her chest as she stares at you impatiently. She’s waiting to hear if you’ve finally told the boy you’ve been head over heels for, for years, that you like him too. “Well? Did you?”

“I couldn’t do it.”

“Please, tell me it’s for the reason I’m thinking.” She all but begs, her eyes wide with hope.

You let out a weary sigh. “I don’t know when I stopped having feelings for him, Pans. I didn’t even realize I’d lost them until he asked me to tell him I felt the same, and there was just...”

“Just..?” Pansy prompts gently.

A pause hangs between you as you search for the right words.

You hardly slept last night; your mind raced with thoughts of the past few months, trying to pinpoint when and how your feelings faded so quietly. You had liked Mattheo for so long, even convinced yourself that maybe you even loved him. But how could you truly love someone who was so closed off? Sure, he turned to you when he was struggling, but that didn’t mean he ever shared what he was feeling. He liked your presence and relied on you to be there whenever he needed support, but he never trusted you enough to truly let you in.

Not in the way you wanted, at least.

If he wasn’t comfortable with his own emotions, there was no way he would be able to handle yours. Maybe that was the heart of it—the realization that he would never fully open up to you, and that had kept you from falling in love with him. And maybe that was the best thing that could have happened, no matter how painful or uncomfortable it was to come to terms with at the beginning.

Then there was Theo. Who had promised to help you get over Mattheo, and from that moment on, he was there for you without hesitation. He held your hand whenever you needed it, and honestly, you had begun to lean on him a bit too much—being close to him had become your favorite feeling. He never made it feel like supporting you was a chore; instead, he made it seem like something he had always longed to do.

In truth, everything had changed for you. Spending time with Theo was no longer just a way to distract yourself from Mattheo; it became where you wanted to be. Being around him made you feel safe and accepted in a way you hadn’t realized you craved.

And that was absolutely terrifying.

You sit up abruptly, fully facing Pansy, “When you said that you thought Theo would give me everything if I let him, did you mean that?”

“Babes,” she begins, sending you a soft smile. “I’ve always thought you would be good for Mattheo. You bring something out in him; he’s happiest when he’s around you. Veronica seemed to make him happy at first—” she adds with a snort—“but nowhere near the level you do.”

“But with Theo…” Pansy trails off. “I’ve never seen you so happy—and not the kind of happy you were with Mattheo. It’s not the relief of him not having a one-night stand or flirting with you a bit bolder at a party. It’s genuine happiness; you’re truly yourself. Theo brings out a different side of you, and you do that for him, too.”

Glancing over at the vase of red peonies, battling the tightness in your throat and the sting in your eyes. You decide you’d rather not spend the day in bed.

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

Since last night, Theo has been struggling to push away the thought that maybe the idea of you having feelings for him isn’t so far-fetched. Especially after you’d implied that the two of you were together to the girl who’d tried to flirt with him. The way you’d intertwined your fingers with his, staking a silent claim that he was off-limits, had left him reeling. There was no way you’d be so possessive if you didn’t feel the same. At least, that’s what he’d been telling himself all morning.

And then there was the way you hadn’t been able to answer Mattheo about your feelings. Theo’s whole heart had been in his throat as he waited for you to tell Mattheo that you did have feelings for him, that you’d had them for years. But you hadn’t answered.

In a way, though, you had, hadn’t you? You’d pushed past Mattheo without a word and gone straight to him.

“Are you coming with us to Hogsmeade or not?” Enzo nudges Theo, pulling him out of his thoughts. The boys had all planned to go to Hogsmeade together this weekend, a plan set firmly in stone since last weekend. But when Theo saw you this morning, he couldn’t hold back. On impulse, he asked if you wanted to spend some time together, suggesting—almost shyly—that he could finally show you where he’d been getting the peonies.

“No, I’ve got plans.” Theo shrugs, and Draco sends him an irritated look from the opposite couch.

“We made plans.” Draco huffs, clearly agitated with the change. He always hated it when the boys ditched at the last second.

“Something came up.” Theo sighs, hoping that he’ll let it go quickly. He’s well aware that Mattheo should be coming down the stairs at any second. Enzo had told them that he was taking forever to get ready, probably hungover from last night. 

“You mean your girl.” Blaise corrects, and Draco looks disgusted. His head swings back to look at Theo.

“You’re ditching us for her? Mate, that’s pathetic.” Draco scoffs. “She isn’t even your girlfriend.”

“She’s pretty damn close.” Blaise points out, and Theo tries his best to ignore the feeling that jolts through him when he thinks of you as his girlfriend.

He doesn’t have a chance to say anything—not that he would have—before Mattheo walks over to join the group. He claps a hand on Draco’s shoulder, only for Draco to shrug him off irritably. “C’mon,” Mattheo says, his tone leaving no room for argument.

As the others rise, stretching and adjusting their robes, Theo remains seated, gaze fixed on the fireplace in front of him. Mattheo pauses, giving him a puzzled look, one brow lifting in question. “You’re not coming?”

“No.” Theo answers curtly, clearly uninterested in extending the conversation. The truth is, he hasn't spoken to Mattheo in quite a while, and when they do, it’s nothing but tension—a quiet frustration simmering beneath each exchange.

Mattheo’s curiosity sharpens. “Why not?”

“He’s got plans with his girl,” Draco interjects with a roll of his eyes, impatience seeping into his voice. “Now, can we go? We’ve waited long enough for you as it is.”

“Wait. Hold on,” Mattheo turns to face him fully, and Draco huffs when he realizes they’re not going to be leaving any time soon. “Your girl?”

“You know what he means.” Blaise interjects calmly, his eyes shifting to Mattheo as he watches tension coil through his stance.

Mattheo gives a casual shrug, though his jaw tightens. “No, Blaise, I really don’t.”

Theo huffs, rolling his eyes as he stands, making to push past. “Why the hell do you even care?”

Mattheo’s hand snaps out, stopping him mid-step. “You know why I care.”

Theo’s gaze darkens, voice low. “Oh, you mean because of your feelings for her?” He shakes his head in disbelief. “Does your girlfriend know that you told Y/n you’ve always liked her?”

Theo’s eyes flicker over Mattheo’s shoulder, catching the shared looks between Blaise, Enzo, and Draco. There’s no shock in their expressions—only a knowing look as if they’d been bracing for this moment all along. It’s unsettling, the way they seem almost resigned, like they’ve seen the tension building between him and Mattheo from a mile away.

Mattheo scoffs, an edge of irritation slipping into his voice. “Did she go and tell you everything I said?”

Theo raises a brow, “No, I overheard you. But even if she did, what does it matter to you?”

Matteo narrows his eyes, “Because I care about her.”

“Bullshit. If you cared about her, you wouldn’t have put her in that position last night.”

“I care about her more than you think.” Mattheo bites out, and the boys watch carefully as Mattheo takes another step forward.

“Right,” Theo scoffs, “You care so much you went and found yourself another girl.”

Theo sees it before Mattheo even speaks—the subtle shift in his expression, the tightening of his jaw, the flicker of defensiveness flashing in his eyes. “I wasn’t ready to—”

“So you weren’t ready for her? But you were for Veronica? I don’t get it. You can’t just expect her to always be there when you finally figure out what you want.”

Mattheo laughs in disbelief, “I wasn’t waiting, I—”

“Then what the hell were you doing?” Theo’s voice sharpens. “You had years to tell her how you felt, and you didn’t say anything. Then you get a girlfriend, she starts spending time with me, and all of a sudden, you care? Leave her alone and quit messing with her.”

“I’m not fucking messing with her—”

“You are. You’ve been doing it for years.” Theo’s eyes flash with frustration, and suddenly he feels the urge to make it clear that he wants you—that he always has, and Mattheo isn’t the only one. “She deserves better than someone who can’t make up their mind. She deserves to be someone’s first choice.”

Mattheo’s expression hardens and his tone drops. “And that’s you?”

Theo doesn’t have the chance to answer, because Veronica’s shriek causes both their heads to snap in her direction, “Matty!”

Theo watches as Mattheo steps back, anger giving way to frustration, a quiet curse slipping from his lips at the sight of his girlfriend. Veronica strides forward, pushing right past Blaise and Enzo without a second glance. Blaise shoots her an agitated look, irritation flashing in his eyes as she barrels through.

“I thought you said you guys were going to Hogsmeade.” Veronica smiles, reaching out to take Mattheo’s hand, but he subtly pulls away, dodging her touch with a flicker of impatience in his eyes.

“We are.” He grumbles under his breath, but Veronica keeps smiling sweetly, unfazed, as if her boyfriend hadn’t just blatantly brushed off her attempt to hold his hand. Mattheo turns to leave, muttering something to the boys, likely a brief comment about their plans.

Theo watches as an agitated Mattheo strides out of the common room, with the boys trailing behind him. But the boys glance back at Theo, their expressions a mix of caution and confusion. Theo turns to leave as well, but Veronica’s voice stops him, soft and pointed, just loud enough for him to hear.

“You should tell your girlfriend that last night was a mistake,” she murmurs, a sympathetic smile tugging at her lips. “Mattheo thought she was me; you know how he gets after a few too many drinks.”

Theo thinks about correcting her, letting her know that he doesn’t really know what she means at all. From what he saw last night, Mattheo was tipsy—not that drunk—and Theo has had enough years of experience to tell the difference. But instead, he shrugs it off, deciding he’d rather find you than spend any more time in the common room.

.·。.·゜✭·.·✫·゜·。.

“Hogsmeade is that way.” You say, a bit confused, gesturing in the opposite direction as you walk beside Theo.

“I know.” He replies simply, his gaze flickering back to the trail that you’ve never gone down before. Honestly, you had no idea it even existed. It’s evident that this path isn’t used often, as moss and grass have claimed most of the walkway. Vibrant wildflowers dot the sides, their colors brightening the greenery around them. 

He’s been quiet for most of the walk, which feels strange; you’re not used to this side of him. The more time you’ve spent with Theo, the more he’s opened up—sharing memories of his late mum, the weight of his father’s expectations, and his hopes for the future. These walks, where you slowly unravel each other’s stories, have become your thing, something that only the two of you share.

You frown slightly, glancing at him as you try to piece it together. “But I thought you said you got the flowers from a shop.”

“I never said that.” Theo’s lips curve into that soft, gentle smile that never fails to send your stomach into a flutter. “I said I’d take you with me the next time I went to get some. I never said it was in Hogsmeade.”

It takes you a second, too enamored with the view in front of you for it all to click. The walk isn’t long, but as you continue down the path, you spot a patch of red ahead. It stands out against the greenery, a cluster of flowers blooming a pretty, vibrant hue. You can’t quite tell what kind they are, but when you glance at Theo, you notice the way his eyes flicker nervously, and it suddenly feels like you’re walking toward something important.

But then it hits you all at once: “They’re peonies.”

On instinct, you grab Theo’s hand, giving it a playful tug to urge him along toward the blooms. He lets out a soft laugh at your enthusiasm, and a warmth fills you as his earlier mood seems to lift, the tension in his shoulders fading.

When you reach the edge of the flower field, you pause, still holding Theo’s hand as your gaze lingers over the vibrant blooms stretching out before you. Theo glances at you, heart beating a little faster as he wonders what you’re thinking, but he brushes aside his nerves and releases your hand, shrugging off his jacket to lay it carefully on the ground. You murmur to him, urging him not to squish any of the flowers, and Theo smiles, his expression softening as he gently reassures you that he won’t.

There isn’t much room on his jacket, so you find yourself pressed against Theo’s side—though you don’t mind in the slightest. He’s leaned back on his hands, while you sit cross-legged beside him.

The quiet is soothing, broken only by the soft chatter of birds and the occasional hum of an insect drifting from flower to flower. The warmth of the sun on your skin feels heavenly, its heat a welcome contrast to the long, cold months that have passed.

“Is this why you left? The first night you stayed with me?” You ask, glancing to the right to watch his reaction. 

From where you’re seated, you can see how the sunlight catches every small detail of his face, highlighting any imperfections. There’s the faint mole on his cheekbone, his dark lashes that you’re secretly jealous of, and the thin scar along his chin from when he fell off his broom as a kid. Another mark splits through his brow—a scar whose origin he could never quite remember, but has always just been there. It tugs at you, knowing you can recall the origins of his faded scars. It might seem trivial, but it means he’s let you in, sharing parts of himself that not everyone gets to see.

Theo nods, “I had to go early in the morning to give them to Pansy. With practice later, it was the only chance I could.”

A smile creeps onto your face as you imagine Theo, slightly awkward but determined, handing over the bundle of flowers and the little card to Pansy, who no doubt teased him relentlessly. You’d had wondered how she noticed that Theo was different with you, especially when most of your time together was just the two of you. But now, hearing this, you understand perfectly how she recognized a side of him that only seems to surface around you.

“I didn’t want to leave, y’know.” Theo continues, finally glancing over at you, and the effect is instant—those watercolor eyes meet yours, sending a flutter through your stomach as you instinctively lean closer, feeling yourself melt into his side.

“The flowers made up for it,” you tease, a soft smile tugging at your lips. “Aside from you, they were the only thing that made me feel better.”

“Yeah?” Theo glances down at you, tucked into his side, a satisfied smile tugging at his lips. Hearing you say the flowers meant something to you eases any nerves he had—because they were never just a way to cheer you up. They were his quiet, unspoken way of telling you that he was there, that he cared. And that, despite your feelings for Mattheo, he was an option too.

“Yeah.” You confirm.

For the rest of the afternoon, you and Theo sat together, talking about whatever came to mind as you picked flowers. You gathered a few, but mostly you watched as Theo picked the ones he liked the most, adding to the small bundle that sat between you both. Watching him carefully select the prettiest flowers, knowing he was going to give them to you, made something shift inside you. If you hadn’t fully realized your feelings before, you were certain of them now.

You lost track of time with Theo, but eventually, he had to leave for practice. He handed you the freshly picked flowers and walked you back to the castle, stalling as if reluctant to say goodbye. In the end, you pressed a soft kiss to his cheek and murmured a quiet ‘thank you.’ You didn’t want to say goodbye either, but you couldn’t bring yourself to be the reason Theo might get into trouble.

It wasn’t until you got back to your dorm, leaning against the door with a giddy squeal, the flowers pressed to your chest, their scent lingering in the air, that the realization hit you. You should’ve kissed him. The thought made your stomach dip with excitement, and for a fleeting moment, you entertained the idea of running after him, catching him just before practice, and kissing him. Absentmindedly, your hand rises to trace your lips, lost in your racing thoughts. 

You’re so caught up in the moment that you don’t notice Pansy at her desk, watching you with an amused look.

“You look like you had a good time.” Pansy smirks as you startle and send her a look before pushing away from the door.

“Pansy, I’m fucked.” You whine and she lets out a loud laugh.

“You were from the second he stayed the night with you.” You pause for a moment, letting the realization settle in, and as it does, you know she’s right. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt so safe with someone—not in the way you did that night. Sure, you felt safe with Mattheo, but it wasn’t the same. It didn’t compare to the way you felt when you were with Theo.

“Did you know he’s been picking me flowers?” You ask instead, setting the new bundle onto your desk before turning to face Pansy. 

“Oh, I knew.” Pansy hums, a knowing smile tugging at her lips. 

“How did I not notice?” You wonder aloud. 

“You were a little distracted.” Pansy shrugs, and you nod in agreement.

After Pansy tells you she’s meeting Blaise after practice, you briefly wonder if you should go with her. You sit on your bed, lost in thought, weighing the decision, but before you can make up your mind, Pansy is already gone.

As much as you want to see Theo, you hesitate, not wanting to assume that today meant as much to him as it did for you. It’s clear from the fact he’s been picking you flowers that he has feelings for you, but you don’t want to get ahead of yourself or risk ruining something before it has a chance to begin. So, you stay in your dorm, trying to focus on an assignment you’ve been putting off for far too long, though your mind keeps drifting back to him.

So when you hear the knock, your heart skips a beat, and before you can think, you're off your bed and rushing to the door. You know exactly who is on the other side and your stomach flutters in anticipation. You pause just before opening it, taking a deep breath to calm the flutter of nerves in your stomach, willing yourself to appear composed. 

You pull the door open, forcing a casual smile as you try to sound unaffected. “Hi,” you say, though your voice betrays the excitement simmering just beneath the surface.

Theo stands in front of you, one hand holding onto the doorframe. His hair is a tousled mess, and his cheeks are flushed—whether from practice or the rush of seemingly running here, you can’t quite tell.

And when he looks up at you, he’s out of breath and looks downright impatient, “I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” You pause, thrown off and completely caught off guard. That was not what you expected him to say, and your mind spirals into the worst possible conclusions. Was he regretting what happened earlier? Apologizing for showing you the flowers, or for picking some for you? Giving you flowers at all? Maybe his feelings for you weren’t strong enough, or perhaps he only thought he had them? The thought that it could be too soon after your feelings for Mattheo crossed your mind, even though you’d started moving on from him months ago, gnaws at you.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, releasing the doorframe and stepping forward, one step, then another. He pauses, giving you a moment to pull away if you need to, but you stay rooted to the spot, unable to move. Theo stands so close now that you have to tilt your head back slightly to meet his gaze. He reaches up, and your breath catches when his thumb gently brushes against your cheek, his hand settling just below your ear. His voice is quiet, but the weight of his words makes your heart stutter. “I should’ve kissed you, dolcezza.”

He doesn’t give you a chance to respond, his thumb tracing slow, deliberate circles on your skin as he steps even closer, his breath warm against your cheek. His words tumble out in a rush, desperate and raw. “All through practice, all I could think about was you. The moment I walked away, I just wanted to turn around and kiss you.” His voice drops to a whisper, low and thick with a longing that sends shivers down your spine.

You murmur his name softly, but he’s barely listening, his gaze intense as he leans in slightly, his lips just inches from yours. “Fuck, you've been on my mind for months—years, if I'm being honest. I feel like I’m losing my mind, wondering if you feel even a fraction of what I do.” His hand still lingers at your cheek, his thumb brushing against your skin, the warmth of his touch sending a tremor through you as if he’s waiting for something—waiting for you to say what he’s too afraid to ask.

It’s you who closes the distance, your lips meeting his in a sudden, fervent kiss that catches him off guard, pulling a surprised moan from deep in his throat. His body reacts instantly, his free hand snaking around your waist, pulling you closer, pressing you against him. The sound he makes causes a rush of warmth to flood your veins. He’s hardly touched, and you’re already too warm, and your knees threaten to buckle beneath you. You let him guide you backward, the pressure of his hand firm against your back until your steps falter just inside your dorm. Every inch of him feels like fire against your skin, and your previous worries fade into nothing.

Once you’re inside, he kicks the door closed with a thud but the sound barely registers. Without any hesitation, he presses you back against the door, his body close enough that you can feel the heat radiating off him. But you want him closer. So much closer. One hand rests flat against the door beside your head, while the other cups your cheek, his thumb brushing gently over your skin. Then, it’s him who leans in, his lips meeting yours in a slow, deliberate kiss that deepens with an aching intensity. There’s no rush now—just an overwhelming wave of longing, a perfect culmination of the emotions you’ve both held back. Your head spins, your heart races, and you’re certain that if you could take your temperature in this moment, it would be burning hot.

But then, slowly, he pulls back just enough to break the kiss, his breath heavy and uneven. His forehead rests against yours for a moment, both of you struggling to catch your breath. You feel the urge to close the distance between you again, to press your lips to his, because there’s something about the way Theo kisses that leaves you breathless, already craving more. But then again, maybe it’s just him—the way his touch makes a thrill course through you.

“I wanted you to kiss me before you left—”

The door jolts against your back, halting you mid-sentence as Pansy’s voice cuts through the moment. “What the hell? Open the door.” You hold your breath, hoping that if you stay silent, she might forget the whole thing and simply go away.

But that’s wishful thinking: “Babes. Please open the door."

“I thought you were hanging out with Blaise.” You call back, stealing a glance at Theo, whose expression mirrors your own surprise. Before leaving practice, he’d told Blaise to keep Pansy distracted—he wanted time with you because he had planned on telling you exactly how he felt about you.

“It’s about Mattheo.” Your brows raise is surprise at the intensity in Pansy’s voice and you fling open the door without another thought.

“What’s wrong?” Theo stands behind you, watching the way your face turns nervous.

“Veronica’s been giving him a love potion,” she says softly, her eyes studying your face as it twists in disbelief. “He’s in the infirmary... and he’s asking for you.”

please please please consider reblogging or leaving a comment! it keeps me motivated to write, and reblogs help to spread my work 🤍

[lndsismaeverything]

Lnds being a girl dad

Decided to write it down because I'm bored 🥱 here is my list of ideas that can use but just tag me on it so I can also enjoy the story

Xavier :

Calls your daughter lil princess

Has his hair color and your eyes. Inherited his cute lil pout

Xavier would totally get everything his lil princess wants. Want that new toy? Or how about the new plushie at the arcade machine? Sure, he'll get it right away

Xavier would love to read bed time stories to his daughter every night. Turning off the light while turning on the fairy lights acting as twinkling like stars in the night sky in your daughter room.

He definitely built a fort for her

Has two pets rabbits named Mr.Bunbun and Mrs.Bunbun ( they are married in your daughter mind )and one goldfish named Goldie had Goldie replace every month bec it keeps dying because of your clueless daughter that keep killing the fish

"Daddy why is Goldie floating? " your daughter said curiously " it's because he's taking his afternoon naps , and time for yours too " Xavier lifted his lil princess, carrying her too her room. After she's asleep Xavier calls you " we need another goldfish" he scratches his head " what is it this time?" You asked on there other line " she put a heater in the thank to keep him warm "you sigh, a hand on your hip as you told him frustrated " I told you not to give her a goldfish, poor fish "

He could tell his daughter the truth but couldn't stand to break her lil heart. And it isn't that he didn't keep an eye on her while she played with the fish it's just he took a 5 minutes nap , it wouldn't hurt right? Well that proofed him wrong...

Would like to bake cookies with her ( with you watching them of course )

Would miss his lil princess and you too during every mission . He can't wait to go home to his loving family

If you both are given a mission and both of u can't look after your daughter, she gladly stay with uncle Jeremiah. During the stay with her uncle she learns some gardening skills and is pretty good at taking care of plants

Xavier is of course jealous of Jeremiah, seeing his daughter talking about how the few days has been with her favorite uncle

" princess who do u like more your dad or your stupid uncle Jeremiah? " he said serious

" daddy don't say that about uncle Jeremiah! " good thing she has your personality always ready to defend the person she care and love. But Xavier couldn't help feel his heart ache but also feel proud, his lil princess stood up for his uncle but going against her dad

" uncle Jeremiah is a great uncle and smart tooo ! He's not stupid " she said to her dad " uncle Jeremiah is my favorite uncle! But you are my dad and the best daddy I could ask for "

You ended up ending the recording to Jeremiah to let him witness this scene too

Zayne

His office would be also his daughter office. After school your daughter would walk to Akso hospital since the kindergarten isn't far from the hospital just a 5min walk. But sometimes zayne would be free , so he would pick up his daughter if he didn't had a appointment at that time.

also would occasionally ( almost everytime he pick up his daughter ) bring your daughter to the bakery next a few buildings from the kindergarten .

Inherited his father's sweet tooth

Also hates the dentist

He will watch his daughter sit in his office doing her homework in her lil desk next to him. Also has a picture frame of the family photo that you didn't take a few days ago

The reason why zayne daughter would be at his work is because sometimes you can't pick up your daughter during the day is because your busy with mission and work.

After work you pick up your daughter at your husband work " bye daddy see you soon " she waved and your husband nodded " see you at home "

But sometimes zayne would come home late at night and your daughter would already be asleep by then. Also the reason why she likes going to her dad work place, is to spend time with him when at night she bearly see him or spend time with

When zayne would have a surgery your daughter would patiently do her homework ,if she's done she would go around the hospital lobby and talk to the nurses and doctors

The nurses and doctors love your cute lil daughter

" oh how she looks like Dr. Zayne so much "

" she also has Dr. Zayne calm expression "

Your daughter would have a personal ID badge hanging around her neck that you help her make . Just letting the other nurses and doctors know that she Dr.zayne daughter and not a lost kid

Zayne would double check himself if he has any blood on himself or the smell of blood on him before going to see his daughter after the surgery

Zayne can't help it if his daughter ask for another piece of his macarons " ok, you can have another one but just dont tell your mom. You can it have a maximum of 3 per day and you already have 5 "

"but daddy the same goes for you too and your already have 6 !" Your husband chuckled "alright this will be our lil secret"

" what little secrets ?" You lean against the doorframe , folding your arms as you watch both of them eating, almost finishing dozen macarons

Girl dad zayne would deny that he always saying yes to his daughter " oh really? What about last week Saturday? U said no more sugar but you bought her a snow cone" you tease your husband

" daddy can I have that snow cone? It's a double scoop and it looks like a snowman ! And best of all I can share with you ! "

" at least she has a good reason " your husband replied pushing his glasses to the brim of is node" oh just admit it Dr.zayne ~ "he smile and looked at your sleeping daughter on his office couch

Rafayell

Would spoil his lil sea guppy rotten

" daddy can I have a pony? " already bought one a few seconds ago when he say her drawing a pony. Bought a pony the same as the drawing

Want some plushies? No worries he called Thomas to get her the most cutest plushy and limited to edition

But your daughter love the plushies her had won for her at the arcade especially the pufferfish and the birb

Would teach your daughter about lemurians language. Also tell her stories about the lemurians

" daddy do you think I can turn my legs into a lemurian fish tailtoo? " her eyes sparked looking at her dad

" of course you can. You are half lemurian and human after all " rafayell ruffled her hair

The day she transformed into a lamurian in the bathtub is the day rafayell cheered for her because he didn't know if she could actually turn her legs into a fish tail

Would take her to the beach so she can swim in the ocean and get used to the salty waters . But also for some family fun time

You joined them watching how rafayell teach your daughter to swim in her new found form. You don't have a fish tail but you can still breath under water because of the sea god. It was fun watching your daughter struggle a bit

" hold my hand it be easier for your to balance yourself " your husband hold your daughter hand preventting from her turning upside down

" ugh, daddy this is worst then learning how to ride a bike! " your daughter wine, you couldn't help but laugh at them

Rafayell would bring your daughter to the art exhibit .

Also have a painting named after her and inspired by her . But that isn't for sale that's for the living room at home

Your daughter has a lot of dresses like a lot and same for shoes and jewelry. Rafayell like to dress his daughter up

First class trips with her daddy

Rafayell would definitely ride his sports car to pick her up at kindergarten.

" now wheres my little guppy? " he said standing at the door from the class she's in " daddy ! "

Sylus

Would let your daughter go on busssnins meeting with him because she asked him. At first he said no because it's a dangerous mission . But your daughter is cunning which she got from you of course " but I have daddy to protect me there, he's the strongest and he's the best so nothing will happen to me " that boosted his ego

You where furious when you found out that your husband took your daughter to a dangerous meeting that ended blowing up the whole building " but sweetie, it's nothing I can't handle, she save and onharmed "

" you let her hold a gun."

" that's because she hated the merchant " sylus said confidently

Looks like onychinus had a new leader soon after her dad step down

Would let her dress Mephisto up

Sylus would teach your daughter some boxing moves

Would try to fit all of you guys in his motorcycle , your daughter in front , placing her hand on the handle while your husband hand on top of hers and you always being sylus backpack

Would have customized helmets with your names on it

Sylus would let her daughter play with his hair and stick some stickers on him and if he feels generous ( which he is toward you and your daughter ) he'll even let your daughter put make up on him

Luke and Kieran would be the best uncles . Would like to join her uncles with pranks

Love doing karaoke with her dad .both can't sing well and are death ears

Sylus would buy the whole arcade just for her daughter

Plays kitty cards with your daughter and always lose on purpose

Sylus is definitely the type to give anything her daughter fancies. She looked firearm for 5 second? Is already here with her name on it of course with no bullets . Or else he wouldn't have hear the end of it from you

Would definitely sign a no boyfriend till your married

Like and karien are your daughter personal bodyguards

Would prepare a fancy ball for her birthday

Would play the piano for her also teaching her some keys

End up hitting the post button while middle way writing 😅sorry for grammar mistakes and words.

[sturnioz]

its shy!reader's first annual frat house halloween party.

"the frat house hosts halloween parties?" you ask, your eyebrows shooting up in surprise as you examine the colourful halloween-themed flyer in your hand, your lips parting slightly in disbelief as you read the scrawled words.

"course we do, kid. why wouldn't we?" chris replies as he steps into the bedroom, just finished with his shower, a towel wrapped loosely around his hips. water droplets cling to his wet hair, glistening as they strickle down his chest.

you don't spare him a glance, too busy focussing instead on the vibrant orange colours on the paper, which seem almost blinding in their brightness. it's not that you're surprised the frat house is throwing a halloween party — they throw parties for just about every occasion — but the thought of chris dressing up? that's the real shocker.

you can't picture him in a costume at all.

"do you dress up?" you dare to ask, your voice quiet as your eyes flit up to him in curiosity. just then, chris drops the towel, pulling on a pair of plaid pajama pants, the waistband resting snug on his hips.

chris scoffs, "no." well, that answers that.

you chew your bottom lip, your fingers fiddling with the edges of the flying in your hands. "so what do you do?"

"like i do at every fuckin' party, kid. i drink, i take my shit, and sell my shit — what's with all the questions? huh?" he turns to you, his gaze intense, wet strands of his hair framing his face.

"m'just curious, is all" you mutter, a frown tugging at your lips as you place the flyer on his beside table. "am i going?"

"obviously."

"do i have to dress up?"

"do whatever y'want."

then, with a hint of hope, you ask. "will you dress up with me?"

"no."

oh. the bluntness of his response hits you like a cold splash of water. you blink at him, momentarily lost for words, a mix of shock and disappointment settling in your chest.

chris notices your silent and tongues at his cheek, scoffing slightly. "m'not dressing up, kid. i don't do any of that shit. s'pointless to me."

"but its not to me," you reply, raising your voice slightly, frustration creeping into you tone. "i like halloween.. i want to dress up."

"then do it," chris furrows his brows, his expression still stern. "nobody is stoppin' you."

"i dont want to do it alone..."

"it's a halloween party, kid. you're not gonna be alone." chris states matter-of-factly, and your face scrunches up at his dismissive attitude, causing him to click his tongue against his teeth in annoyance. "don't give me that look. don't."

"i just want to match!" you declare, surprisingly relentless now, determined not to back down despite the nagging voice in the back of your mind telling you to let it go.

"you... you want to match?" chris repeats in disbelief, staring at you incredulously. "like — like a couples costume?"

you frown, feeling your cheeks heat up. "well, when you put it like that—"

"you're crazy. you've lost your mind." chris mutters, shaking his head as he murmurs to himself. "couples costume, she said.. fuckin' matchin', she said."

"it doesn't have to be anything serious," you plead, trying to reason as your voice softens. "it just seems like it would be fun to dress up together. i've never done that before.."

chris goes quiet for a moment. he's still tonguing at his cheek, his gaze piercing as if he's sizing you up, and you shift nervously on the bed beneath his gaze, gripping the covers tightly.

then, a sly smirk creeps across his lips, and he tilts his head, scratching at his cheek. "alright."

your eyes almost bulge out of your head in surprise. "alright?"

"yeah, alright," chris hums, nodding as a glint flickers in his eyes. "we can match but uh.. but i'm pickin' what we wear. yeah? i get full control over our costumes."

"okay!" you excitedly nod your head, a grin spreading across your lips. "thank you!"

"mm.. don't thank me yet, kid," chris replies as he drops down onto the bed beside you, the smirk still lingering on his lips as he gets comfortable. "'cos you have no idea what you just walked into."

you hardly process chris' last words, too caught up in the thrill of him agreeing to your idea. you're buzzing, grinning to yourself as your mind whirls with possibilities of what you could both go as. you even have a few ideas swirling around, but you bite your tongue, remembering that he wants full control over the costumes.

but a few days later, with the halloween party just an hour away, you find yourself standing in front of the mirror, staring in disbelief at the reflection before you.

your heart races as you take in the tight, back corset that hugs your figure, accentuating your curves and pushing up your breasts. the sheer black pantyhose cling to your legs, leading down to the black heels that add an extra height.

around your neck rests a black bowtie and a crisp white collar, but it's the fluffy white bunny ears atop of your head and the fluffy round tail just above your ass that truly seals the deal.

you feel a rush of embarrassment wash over you, heat flooding your cheeks as you take it all in.

you're unable to move, rooted to the spot as your eyes flit to chris, who stands behind you. he's decked out in a red satin robe and black pants, completing the very simple hugh hefner look.

"well.. what d'you think?" chris asks, a mischievous grin spreading across his face as he takes a step closer, clearly enjoying the look on your face as he leans over your shoulder.

you swallow hard, still processing the surreal situation. "i uh.. i didn't expect this.. to be honest," you stammer, your gaze darting back to your reflection. "i can't go out like this."

"yeah you can," chris hums, his fingers reaching down to tug on the fluffy bunny tail, a smirk on his lips as he pulls you along with him towards the bedroom door, chuckling as he hears you stumble on your heels. "lets go, bunny."

© STURNIOZ

authors note. this isn’t apart of kinktober, this is just a halloween themed prompt i had sitting in the drafts <3

[vaspider]

Look. A little advice.

Once you get to a certain amount of Known on the internet or a subsection of it, or even in a subsection of a RL group of people, there are going to be people who will make up a version of you which exists only in their heads and which has absolutely nothing to do with who you are. It might better resemble who you were twenty years ago or it might never have had anything to do at all with who you were then or are now.

You cannot stop this. You cannot prevent this. Once you get a certain number of followers or a certain amount of attention, that's going to happen: people will make up stories about you which either look through a fun-house mirror at some small aspect of who you are and twist it and blow it up until it doesn't resemble you at all, or which just have absolutely no basis in fact whatsoever.

This is just another kind of parasocial relationship; it's the kind which really sucks to deal with, because it's so negative and so pervasive. It's very real, and the frustration you feel about it is very real. Nobody wants to be known incorrectly.

But. You can't control this. It's gonna happen. No matter what you say, no matter how precisely you say it, the people who want to misinterpret you will find a way to do so. This doesn't mean 'don't pay attention to what you say,' or 'don't be purposeful and precise with your language,' but it does mean 'don't obsess over the people who are determined to get you wrong.'

You can be the most anodyne, run-of-the-mill, unremarkable human being, and the people who are determined to hate you will find something that they can point to and say 'ha ha! I told you that Spider danced with the devil at midnight! I witnessed it myself!' (It will not help the situation if you are, say, self-admittedly stubborn as fuck, long-winded, and sometimes kinda fucking obnoxious, but please realize that in the end, it doesn't really matter. This is gonna happen no matter what.)

The people who matter will look at what's being said, wrinkle up their foreheads, and say, 'uh, man, it looks like Spider was actually playing with his dog at 9 am?'

That said, if you don't have elephant-thick skin from being a marginalized-gender human being who's been on the internet since before the web had pictures, there are some things you can do to make it easier when people making things up about you starts to get on your nerves:

Establish protocols for when it becomes too much: have someone read your messages, turn off your notifications, have time where you purposefully disengage.

Establish protocols for how you interact, period: "I will block people without guilt if they engage positively with the people who spread untruths about me." "I will answer everything in public so people can't lie about what I said, because it's right there in public." "I will not answer work-related stuff in DMs, that has to go to the work email." Whatever it is, create some boundaries for yourself. Stick to them. The people who push you to bend them aren't doing that for your benefit but theirs.

If you get someone who really hits your Weirdo Alarm, trust it. Yeah, block and report, but also, take screenshots and store them somewhere that isn't easily erased. I have an 'Internet Weirdos' folder, which makes it a little easier to deal with when people start doing things like 'making threats of physical harm to me and my family.' Don't fuss, just take a screenshot and chuck it in the folder. Having that record makes it easier to just forget that it ever happened, because you have a paper trail if anybody starts doing something Real Weird.

Spend time offline, with people who do actually know you.

Don't get lost in the version of you that someone else makes up in order to make up for the shit that's missing in their own life. You aren't required to play the part that someone else is trying to script for you. It is never to your benefit, only to theirs; you gain nothing by standing in that role for them, and you lose precious seconds of your one irreplaceable life.

You could be using those seconds to look at this video of how to pick up a duck, which I think we can all agree is a better investment of your time.

[just-a-ghost00]

Crush series - Compatibility test : your kinks vs their kinks (18+)

Minors do not interact.

Group 1

For you my group 1 I intuitively channeled the song Alibi as I picked your picture on Pinterest. Maybe some of you have struggled with intimacy in the past and/or were surrounded by abusive people. You may have struggled with finding beauty in yourself, feeling cared for and valued, setting boundaries. If that is your case, first of all I am sorry that you had to go through all of this. Second of all, then this could be a confirmation you picked the right group.

Your kinks - The World, The Hierophant, The High Priestess

You like to be adored, to be put on a pedestal. In the ideal version of how your sexual life should be, you want to feel powerful and in control of what is going on in the bedroom. You would rather keep your sexual life private. So exhibitionism or sharing your intimate moments online are definitely out of the equation. You want to feel safe and nurtured. But most importantly you want to see in your person's eyes that not only are you important to them but you are their world. You want your partners to keep their eyes on you and treat you as a goddess. You want to be pampered, to be praised, to be venerated. You like to be courted. Your kinks involve being fully clothed or wearing expensive outfits and jewelry. Things that your partner would have provided for you. You likely want to be on top physically or feel like you are on top of things. You want your partner to answer your every request. You would definitely instore a safe word. Also, some of you may be reliigious. So you would want your partner to keep their distances until marriage/commitment. You want to be romanced, wined and dined. You want your partner to be respectful of your boundaries and also adaptable. You would best be compatible with someone that is open minded, that likes to explore new things in the bed room and shares your values and desires. You would want your partner to read you like a book. Some of you may enjoy travel sex, car sex.

Their kinks - 3 of swords, 9 of swords, The Emperor

I think it is safe to say that this person's priority wouldn't be their partner's pleasure. They don't like giving up control. They want to possess and to dominate. This person is into BDSM, fast and rough sex, mind games, dirty talking. They honestly enjoy torture. They would probably overstimulate their partner or keep going even if the person was exhausted and couldn't handle it anymore... They care about their own pleasure more than that of others. They are a taker. They are an abuser. I don't know how to put it any other way. They enjoy mental anguish. They would enjoy keeping people guessing, flirting through texts or phone calls. They are the type to take their partner by surprise or in their sleep. They litterally view their partner as a toy. Do I need to elaborate or you get the picture? I really don't like this person's energy. I can't think of any positive thing to say about their kinks.

Compatibility test result : 0%, this person would make you so unhappy and you deserve better than that.

Group 2

Since I had picked up intuitively on songs for the other two groups, I asked my guides to point me toward a song that could be relevant to you. Punching bag is a song that expresses the tiredness and frustration we may feel when the people surrounding them aren't being mindful of their words and actions, when they are either subcounsciously or consciously walking over us and disrespecting our boundaries, when they are being harsh on us and belittle or bring us down. If that is something you relate to, then this is your sign you picked the right group.

Your Kinks - Ace of swords, 2 of swords, Emperor

Communication and spiritual/mental connection are major factors in your relationships. Your ideal version of intimacy involves words of affirmation, praising, dirty talk, mental stimulation. Foreplay matters to you more than the actual act. You are the type of person that enjoys sexting, teasing phone calls and possibly sending nudes to your partner. For you, sex must be aerial, lighhearted and make you feel like you are touching the sky. You enjoy trying risky positions or positions that are somewhat artistic, that need a good balance. You also enjoy switching roles and positions, though you prefer to be in control. You enjoy giving and receiving oral. You have a fascination for the genital area and this is likely to be the part of the body you would be focusing on the most or would like for your partner to focus on. Breathplay could also be a thing you're into. The throat and the mouth seem to be significant to you. Those could be erogenous zones you enjoy teasing or being teased. Hickeys also. You may like to leave marks on your person's body and have them leave marks on yours that show who you belong to. You could tend to be a bit possessive and jealous. For you, sex could be a way to keep the upper hand in a relationship. If you are the type to be rather submissive in your daily life, you tend to balance that out by being more controling and demanding in the bed room. You are the embodiment of the saying "lady in the streets, freak in the sheets". You could like mind games to some extent. You could also be into blindfolds. You may prefer a partner that is a bit dominant and challenges you for power without being forceful about it.

Their kinks - Page of cups, 7 of cups, Knight of wands

Your crush is a major giver and a romantic at heart. Nothing to them matters more than feeling a deep and meaningful emotional connection with their partner. To them, sex is first and formost an demonstration of love. Thus, their main priority is for their partner to enjoy the experience as much as possible and to feel cared for in their arms. They are quite the charmer. They ally a good mixture of cockiness and gentleness that makes intimate moments feel like a moment of bliss. This person has a thing for fluids of all kinds. Obviously, that includes saliva, semen, even sweat. They could be into shower/bath/jacuzzi/beach sex. This person could also enjoy having a bit of liquid courage before doing the deed. When they are sober, they may be extremely shy so getting a little buzzed could help them channel their inner fire. I don't see this person getting drunk to the point of not being conscious and forgetting it all afterwards. On the contrary, they want to remember every single detail. They also enjoy their partner being vulnerable and emotional. One of their kinks could be to be intimate with virgins or people that are younger than them. They like the "damsel in distress" type of people. People that seem very innocent and submissive. They tend to be more of the dominant type but they would definitely be willing to hand over some control if that makes their partner happy. If they're dominant, they're a soft dom. They like passionate sex that makes them lose their breath and be all sweaty. This person tends to get a bit hasty when they are aroused. They could be the type to whine or moan, maybe even cry of happiness at how good they feel with their partner.

Compatibility test results : 80 to 95%, this person would want to put you first no matter what, they feel genuine and communicative but they maybe wouldn't be as mentally and verbally stimulating as you wish.

Group 3

I have no idea why but upon seeing the picture I picked for you on Pinterest, I immediately thought of The Grinch lmao That might be one of your favorite animated movies or your crush's favorite. Definitely tell me in the comments if that is your case!

Your kinks - 2 of pentacles, 6 of wands, 9 of cups

You enjoy having to work for it. But you also like when your partner is being encouraging and reassures you. You're into praises and pet names. You enjoy switching roles and positions. You are fine with being both dominant and submissive. You're a bit of an adventurer when it comes to intimacy. You are curious and daring. Foreplay is definitely a thing that turns you on. You also like to feel a bit foggy or dreamy during sex. So maybe you could enjoy getting drunk with your partner before. You want to feel emotionally connected to your partner. You're into body fluids as well as water or other liquids. You may enjoy a partner that's a bit resistant, that doesn't show affection easily in their daily life but would be vulnerable only with you, in the most intimate moments. You like to get under your person's skin. 69 might be a position you enjoy. Missionary as well. You might enjoy to be woken up with sex in the middle of the night or to have sex when you've just woke up. You could be into tantra and other sensual practices that could help you connect with your partner through dreams. You enjoy fantasizing about your partner more than you enjoy being intimate with them. The waiting phase or the uncertainty before the moment is something that turns you on. You may be into orgasm denial. You may also like to go back and forth for several rounds until you are sleepy. I feel like you would go with whatever your partner wants as long as they are pleased with you and the connection.

Their kinks - knight of pentacles, 9 of pentacles, King of pentacles

Your crush is both a taker and a giver but they lean more on the giver type. They are quite reserved and uptight but when it comes to intimacy they go all out. To them sex is essential to a relationship for it to be prosperous. They give it a lot of care and importance. They view it as a duty and an honor. They take this responsibility very seriously. They tend to take their time and increase intensity gradually. They enjoy sex that is deep and rich, very earthy and sensual. For it is a grounding step in a couple's life. They may enjoy riding, whether they are the one on top or their partner is. They may have a breeding kink. They are not very communicative during sex. They envision sex as a dialogue between two bodies. Touch is really important to them. Through touch they express their satisfaction, their passion, their needs. They have a tough exterior that is hard to break but once you get under their skin they give you their all. Their arousal would mainly be seen in their eyes, through their fast movements or the tension in their body. They are the type to grunt, to grab and hold on tightly to the sheets or the bed. They want their partner to do the same. They enjoy positions that are stable and simple but efficient. So they are not the type to try out super flexible positions, though they could definitely carry you around without any problem. They enjoy chair sex, desk sex, work sex. Also travel sex, car sex. They could enjoy outdoors sex. They definitely are a hard worker but they also like to make their partner work for their attention.

Compatibility test results : 75 to 80 %, I feel like this person would satisfy you to some extent and make you feel safe but they seem a bit too rigid and old school for the curious spirit that you are, also they maybe wouldn't be able to provide as much emotional satisfaction as you need.

[flippinpancakes64]

the Cullens with a reader who can't show emotions and finally smiles after 10 years because of something cute the cullens did?

The Cullens when their SO finally smiles

I’m so terrible at making titles I’m sorry guys. Also for all of these scenarios I was envisioning that the reader is a vampire as well so do with that what you will

Thank you for requesting and I hope you enjoy!

Edward:

He turned you years ago now

And he’s known you for even longer than that

And for all those years, you have never outwardly shown your emotions

The most he gets from you is a furrow of the brows or a slight frown

It frustrated him a LOT at first

He just felt like he could never get through to you

But over the years of reading your mind and picking up on your other cues as to what you’re feeling, he’s learned to be okay

The two of you are sitting in one of your classes in school

Your Spanish teacher is currently talking about basic vocab for the upcoming unit

You two weren’t paying attention, choosing instead to just look at each other, when the teacher calls Edward’s name

“Mr. Cullen, mind telling me what this is called?” She points to the whiteboard that was currently displaying a picture of a shirt

“Camisa.”

“Wrong.”

“What?”

The look on Edward’s face was priceless, a mix between betrayal, mortification, and confusion

“This is a t-shirt, the word is camiseta. I suggest paying more attention next time.”

You wished you had gotten a picture of the snarl on his face

You couldn’t help the smile that formed on your lips as you giggled silently at Edward’s frustration

Instantly, all of his negative emotions were gone

You, the love of his life, the light of his world, the stone statue in his room, was smiling

He was in awe

He knew that he could never forget anything, his memory too perfect for that, but he still tried his best to commit your face to memory as best as he could

You noticed him staring and straightened your face out

He let it go until class was over, but as soon as the bell rang he grabbed you and pulled you into the hallway

“I always knew your face was capable of emotion”

“Nuh uh. My face is actually always permanently stuck like this”

“Liar”

Even if you never smile again, he can finally rest easy knowing what your gorgeous smile looks like

Even if it was at his expense

Alice:

She’s sort of used to not being able to pick up on emotions

Jasper’s always been more focused on not killing people, it’s not often that he’s comfortable enough to laugh

But then again, he shows discomfort on his face

You show nothing

Sure she was a little frustrated by it, but she got over it

Despite that, she loves you, and she loves everything about you

It’s not like this is a dealbreaker or anything

So life moves on

You were turned a couple of years ago by Carlisle, but you and Alice are only now getting married

You wanted to make sure that you could invite your human family without wanting to hurt them

And ten years was plenty time for that

You were currently standing back to back with Alice, the ends of her flowy dress were tickling your ankles

It was time for the first look, and you both were so excited

Carlisle and Esme stood nearby, Rosalie right in front of you two

“Okay, on the count of three, turn to look at each other. One, two, three”

You both whipped around

And before you stood the ethereal Alice

Dressed in a flowy dress with light purple accents, flowery clips in her short hair, and a huge smile on her face

She looked amazing

There were no words in your mind to describe her

So you just smiled

A big, toothy grin as you took in your future wife

You didn’t even get a chance to say anything before you were almost tackled to the ground by Alice

“This is the best wedding gift I could have asked for!!! I saw in a vision that you gave me an amazing gift but I didn’t get to see what it was! Thank you thank you thank you!”

“Alice I didn’t get you a gift?”

You were so confused

“Of course you did, silly. This right here.”

And with that she kissed you right on your smiling mouth

Jasper:

He’s sort of similar to you

Whenever he’s out in public, he’s too focused on not letting his urges take over

He doesn’t usually smile at jokes, frown at problems, or just generally emote

But when he’s home and away from temptation, he becomes more himself

Only, you don’t change

You’re the same stonefaced self you always are

It’s not too hard for him to deal with, he can feel your emotions

He knows when you’re happy, sad, angry, scared, everything

But of course, he has always wondered what your smile might look like

If he could sleep, he would dream about it

But he never pushes you

It’s a nice, October day

The trees are orange, yellow, and red. The air smells like honey and hot cocoa, and Jasper’s taking you to a horseback riding farm

He wanted to connect to his roots, and prove to you that he was capable of riding a horse at one point

You were both set up with your own horse

Yours was named Princess because she always carried herself with a certain pride

Jasper’s was called Toothache cause he likes to hit people in the jaw

He insisted on taking the difficult one, he claimed over and over that he would be okay

You and Princess were quick buddies, galloping around the pen with ease

Jasper was still trying to get within five feet of Toothache

He decided to try approaching from behind, seeing if the element of surprise would work

But all that got him was a hoof straight to the jaw

You couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of your throat, a quick, dry guffaw as you looked on in disbelief

Jasper was almost too preoccupied with his anger at the horse to notice, but he did

In an instant he was next to you, staring deeply into your face which was now lit up with laughter

“Horse be damned, we’re goin home, sugar”

He cuddled you the rest of the night

Rosalie:

She was and is very frustrated at your lack of emotion

She’s not asking you to smile 24/7

But once would be nice

The two of you were out and about

Carlisle needed some more supplies for his home clinic, but his schedule for the week wouldn’t allow him to go get them himself

So he wrote a list for whichever one of his kids wanted to go get them for him

You wanted to do it, and since Rosalie loves you, she decided to go to

That’s how you ended up standing under the awning of a RiteAid as the rain beat harshly against the ground

Originally, you guys were going to wait until the rain stopped to run out to Rosalie’s car

But it’s been 7 minutes (not that you were counting) and it only kept pouring

“Do you want to make a run for it?” You asked

“And get my hair wet? No thanks. We can wait, unless you’re in a rush?”

“No I’m good”

And so you kept waiting

As you were standing there, a car veered into the wet parking lot, tires squealing as it turned the sharp corners

It whipped past the front of the store… and splashed a huge puddle onto you and Rosalie

You stood there shocked for a moment, vaguely registering your newly wet socks, when you heard Rose shriek next to you

“I’m gonna kill that fucking asshole!”

Cue a complete meltdown

She’s yelling about the manner in which she will stalk him, slowly make him paranoid, skin him, and then leave his body for his family to find

All while looking like a wet rat

You can’t help but have a goofy smile on your face, your beautiful wife ranting angrily about some stupid teenager

“Are you laughing at me? I swear to god I’ll skin you too. This is unbelievable!”

Once she’s calmed down later she can’t believe that she missed a once in a lifetime opportunity because she was so angry

A couple kisses should calm her down though

Emmett:

He prides himself on being a pretty funny guy

He cracks jokes all the time

I mean, his speech at Bella and Edward’s wedding was full of jokes and innuendos

His ego gets a little bruised every time you don’t laugh at one of his jokes

He knows that you don’t laugh at anything, but still

He would LOVE to be the exception

But 10+ years and he’s started to lose hope about that

That doesn’t stop him from trying though

You two were walking in the mall, hopping from store to store as you bought everything and Emmett carried it all

Across the aisle, you see two people, a guy and a girl

The guy was wearing one of those alpha wolf t-shirts, the words “mess with the alpha, you get the roar” printed boldly on the back

The girl was wearing galaxy leggings, a shirt with a potato on it, and a cat ear headband

The guy took his fedora off of his head, holding it up so that it covered both his and his girlfriend’s faces while they kissed- for far too long, you might add

As you were standing in complete awe at the sight in front of you, you felt Emmett lean close to your ear

“Don’t wowwy kitten, daddy wiww pwotect you”

You lost it

You let out a loud laugh followed by giggles, doubling over as you clutched your middle

Now it was Emmett’s turn to stand there in shock

“Out of all of the carefully planned out, methodical jokes, pranks, and everything else, you laugh at a Daddy’s Kitten joke?????”

He doesn’t know whether to be happy or angry

Esme:

Again, she’s a little upset that you don’t show how you feel

Mostly she’s just worried that you’re gonna end up being emotionally constipated like Pre-Bella Edward

She does not want to deal with that again

Over the years, she’s gotten both more relaxed and more concerned

More relaxed because she’s come to realize that that’s just how you are

More concerned because you would really think that your SO would show some kind of emotion over the span of so many years

But whatever

She tries not to worry too much

Esme had recently joined a local book club with some of the other moms in their newest town

She loved her little group of friends, it gave her an excuse to leave the house

One of the girls had a birthday coming up, and Esme decided to bake her a cake

You’re sitting at the kitchen island, soft music playing from the radio as Esme floats around the room

All of the ingredients litter the counters, looking out of place in the normally empty kitchen

She’s humming as she’s whisking the eggs and milk together

You’re content just to watch her, making occasional small-talk in between phases of her concentrating

Hours later, it’s finally done

Nothing too extravagant, a chocolate cake with chocolate frosting and delicate lettering of the woman’s name on top

Esme’s standing behind her creation with a huge smile on her face, pride obvious in her expression

Only she’s got something else on her face too

A little smear of the chocolate frosting right above her chin

You walk over to her, grabbing her face in your hands

She’s beaming at you, and you can’t help the small smile that makes its way onto your face as you wipe off the frosting

She stares at you for a moment with her mouth open, before she shoots you a loving gaze

“This suits you, darling, you should do it more”

And she kisses that smile right off

Carlisle:

He’s probably the least concerned

He’s met many people over his many years of life

No two people are exactly the same, and some people are really different

You don’t show emotion, that just makes you unique, it makes you you

So he’s not too worried

He questioned you briefly while you were still alive if you had depression or something like that

But after you said no, he let it up

Carlisle is sitting at his home desk, writing some papers for the clinic

He’s stressed, very visibly so

And you know exactly why

A new patient came in not too long ago, a young girl who he told you reminds him a lot of this girl he used to babysit when he was still alive

She’s incredibly ill and no one can figure out why

All of the tests show mixed results, the only concrete knowledge they have is that she’s dying

The dark circles under his eyes are prominent

He hasn’t gone hunting since the girl arrived by ambulance one night over two weeks ago

And before that he hadn’t hunted in a while

His skin is greying, his motions are visibly slower, his reactions more delayed

Even at this state, he’s in better condition than most humans, but this is not the man you know

Which is why you’re here with him

You’ve been trying to convince him to go hunting for a while, to just take a break and rest, but he won’t listen

So you’ve resorted to just hanging out with him

It’s better than nothing after all

But as you look over his shoulder to see what he’s writing, you find that you can’t make anything out

Various letters of English words are mixed in with Greek and Chinese characters, accent marks hover over letters, and the punctuation is all messed up

“Carlisle… is that a new language you made up?”

He stops for a second, sets his pen down, and really looks at what he’s been writing for the last 10 minutes

And then he just starts laughing

And you can’t help but smile too

“Are you finally gonna admit defeat and come relax for a little bit?”

He spins around to face you, fully taking in the smile on your face, before rising to place a kiss on your forehead

“Fine, let’s go cuddle”

Vampire! Bella:

She thinks you’re freaky

She’s always been a bad liar, so she can’t hold back reactions even if she wanted to

You can’t seem to react even if you wanted to

She thinks it’s so weird

She’s tried her hardest over the years to get something-anything out of you, but nada

She’s sort of given up by now

You two are out hunting

She insisted on running all the way to New Mexico to find a cougar, so off you went

You’re running through the trees, dodging branches and leaping over roots as you both follow on the tail of your prey

“Go that way, I’ll go this way, and we’ll trap it”

“Got it” you said, and veered off to the right

You managed to come up on the side of the cougar, pouncing on it and taking it down after a bit of a struggle

Only, you noticed Bella was nowhere to be seen

You left your now dead food behind to go searching for her

All it took was one call of her name for you to hear a response… very very far away

“Where the hell are you?”

“Down here!”

You looked down over the cliff’s edge to see Bella at the bottom

Dirt on her face, twigs in her hair, and her high heeled boots broken

You couldn’t help but laugh

“Really? That’s what it takes you fucking asshole? Me falling off a cliff? Oh, you’re so dead when I get up there!”

So naturally you make a run for it

[capricores]

if you have strong mutable (gemini, sagittarius, pisces, virgo) placements then you NEED to write things down if you don't already. all those thoughts that constantly swirl in your head: the frequent tasks, goals, feelings, aspirations, opinions, etc - WRITE THEM DOWN. this is not only therapeutic & stress-relieving for you but almost necessary, or you're going to burn out and overload your own mind constantly.

when you bottle, or when you let plans, goals, dreams, to-do lists, projects, etc live solely in your head - you'll notice you can't sleep as well, it's harder to rest, your memory gets more foggy than usual, you feel burnt out and unable to connect, etc. specifically:

write down your feelings. this will be your ultimate (free) therapy. start to journal, write a diary. make a private twitter/tumblr where you spill your feelings, frustrations, thoughts. you will feel an immense sense of relief by writing or typing your feelings out - even if no one is reading it but you. mutable moons especially. our feelings tend to change rapidly, but it doesn't make them less valid. don't bottle out of the fear your feelings will change/you'll just "get over it"!! write it down and let it out!!

write! to-do! lists!!!!! these don't have to be for important things. you want to learn digital art? you want to study coding? you want to learn french? you want to re-decorate? you probably have a billion things you want to do, and then you get overwhelmed by the options, and do nothing. write down all the things you want to do. make a to-do list for these things. get them out of your head and somewhere permanent/physical. looking at the options in front of you will feel much easier.

make excel project trackers (you can even make these for to-do list items/goals/etc)! mutable placements have a tendency to start a lot of projects or tasks, and never finish any of them. make a simple tracker for all the projects you start. you won't forget what you're working on, and you'll be less overwhelmed trying to remember what you have going on (example of the one i always use pictured below)

talking out your thoughts and feelings is also very cathartic. make fake (or real, i support u!) youtube vlogs where you spill your feelings and talk about your plans, your day, what you have to do, etc. talk to someone you love and trust, vent to them about how things are; or about what you're getting up to. i find writing has an edge, because you can go back to it for reference (mutables tend to forget things easily) - but as long as you're getting the swirl of your mind somewhere outside of your head, you'll feel so, so much less stressed.

mutable dominants tend to constantly live in go-mode, we're restless and always doing something. we feel uncomfortable and sometimes guilty about staying still. our minds don't ever shut off. it's very important for mutable placements to learn how to rest, be present in the moment, and learn grounding. this can be done in many ways, but i've found personally that writing works best for me. other helpful practices can be: talk therapy, acceptance theory, yoga, meditation, hiking, camping, etc.

i also want to remind mutable signs: we change a lot. we have a lot of ideas. there's so much we want to do. we often feel like we have no path, no big goal; we can struggle with purpose as we don't often aspire for permanent things or "one big goal". this is NOT bad. there is nothing wrong with changing your feelings, your mind, your goals, your life path. you CAN do all the things you want to do! you have your entire life ahead of you! yes, you can learn all those languages. yes, you can have three different careers in your life. yes yes yes! don't listen to negativity from others. don't beat yourself up for not having one big goal like some people around you might. cherish and embrace all the things you want to achieve and complete (both big and small). learn to follow-through with and finish the things that matter to you (writing things down will really help with this, make action plans/steps - break everything down into smaller pieces). take the time to slow down and enjoy the moments as they come. you got this!

[cinnbar-bun]

Monster (JoFoes x Reader)

Characters: Dio Brando (PB), Kars, DIO (SDC), Yoshikage Kira, Diavolo, Enrico Pucci, and Funny Valentine (sorry I have not finished JJL yet so no [spoiler])

Prompt: "He's a wolf in disguise / But I can't stop staring in those evil eyes."

Summary: Their "love" for you comes in many different, untraditional ways. Some more dangerous than the others.

Rating: Mixture of SFW + NSFW, but please mind the warnings.

Notes: Reader is GN! and no specific body parts are mentioned for them. Spoilers I guess for their plans? Reader is a human in all of them, Reader replaces Shinobu + Hayato's roles, not much NSFW for Pucci's part in all honesty, FV is a widower (no Scarlet involved).

Warnings: Toxic relationships, MAJOR power imbalances for all of them (maybe minus Kira's). Heavy religion mentions for Pucci (although Reader is not specified to be Christian). This isn't soft or lovey-dovey (but I can do one later), so pleaseeeeee do not read if those kinds of topics make you uncomfortable.

Word Count: ~4.5k (kill me I lost my mind writing this)

Read on my AO3 here!

Taglist (if you'd like to be added, fill out the form in my pinned): @adeadcreator @bruabbina @gingernut1314 @over--heaven

Dio Brando (Phantom Blood) 

He most likely was pursuing you long before the mask ever took hold of him. He didn’t do it out of pure love- more likely it was for entertainment and as a chance to hold another thing over Jonathan. 

Dio despises how Jonathan attempts to be friendly with you and often will do what it takes to turn you against the poor guy. 

He doesn’t even know why he is so adamant Jonathan stays away from you, even more so than with anyone else. He feels a possessiveness towards you that cannot be contained or described in words. 

He masks most of his disturbing thoughts and possessiveness for you underneath a facade of charming elegance. He’ll play the part of a picture perfect boyfriend for as long as he needs to. 

But even he has to admit he has trouble holding back all these disgusting feelings for you. You frustrate him in a way few ever have and ever will. 

Despite his haughty attitude over Jonathan and his eagerness to get ahead, Dio is actually grossed out by himself tremendously with you. He recognizes after getting wasted once again that he is just like his bastard of a father, Dario, and it settles in a gross pit in the bottom of his stomach. 

It’s wretched, honestly. While he continuously acts bigger and better than ever to get you to fall further for him, he refuses intimacy or overtly physical gestures. Sharing Dario’s blood with this body makes him sickened at attempting to do anything like that with you. 

Compared to his earlier brazen behavior, when he begins to get possessive and attached to you, he almost retreats and refuses to allow himself the chance at intimacy with you. 

However… once he puts on the mask and rejects his humanity, Dio becomes a whole new wicked beast. 

While he still has sentimental feelings for you, his aggressiveness grows almost tenfold. 

Likes to have you sit on his lap while he strokes your head and monologues about his ideals or shows you horrifying imagery. 

Blood. Lots of blood. 

You’re the only one he attempts to keep alive and refuses to let the others feed off of. If you are to ever be used as sustenance, it is by him and him alone. He gets actively violent against his subordinates if they even think of touching you.

In this stage, he’s more open to intimacy. A bit more, but not at his full peak (we’ll get to that later). 

However, the arousal he has is mostly fueled by his bloodlust and hunger. Feedings of you tend to occur after one of his many minions causes some chaos or he gets word of more destruction and feels a possessive streak. 

He is pretty sensual, taking his time to showcase how much stronger he is, how much better he is now that he has become an undead horror of the night. But that sensuality is still layered with a hint of hunger and obsessiveness towards you that he cannot contain. 

He’s less controlled about his feelings now towards you. His eccentricities make him more likely to just take you randomly at anytime without a care of what is going on around him. And he will verbally tell you them aloud now, enabled by his own inhumanity. 

“I can smell your fear, darling. Your heart is pounding fast… tell me, do you desire something more than this innocent petting, dear?” 

Loves to bite you and leave marks on you. He likes to have his fangs scratch against your skin before he sucks on that spot. His favorite places include your neck but also in more hidden places like your inner thighs. 

Your blood is the most delicious thing he’s ever tasted. He’s addicted to the taste and savors it more than a fine wine. He has to remind himself to take it easy because as much as he loves your taste, you’re still mortal and he has to keep you alive. 

Kars 

As a Pillar Man, he does not think highly of humans like you. You are a mere mortal, and where you belong is below him. Hardly even worth a glance at all. 

But for some reason, despite your status, he found himself protecting you from an encounter with someone trying to rob you late at night. He doesn’t even know why he jumped in to do so, but the look of reverence and awe in your eyes at his display of strength made him… intrigued. 

He doesn’t hold back. He tells you everything, because, really, what are you going to do about it? You couldn’t escape even if you tried. 

And now, you live your life as his human… pet? Partner? Servant? Thing…? 

He’s very unclear about it. Some days he ignores you, and other days he mulls over his thoughts to you while he strokes your head. 

Kars rarely ever gets aroused. He’s not a primitive beast and he’s very focused on his goals. 

But, intellectually, he is curious about how you behave around him. He kind of likes the attention you give him and he recognizes how you’re affected by him physically. 

One thing he’s super proud of? His voice. He knows how his voice can turn you on and drive you mad. He likes to get close to your and have his breath tickle your skin before he whispers words of praise for you doing so well for him. 

“Oh, little one, you’re shivering. Are you afraid? Or are you excited?” 

His favorite thing is to get you incredibly aroused while barely touching you. 

Enjoys you riding his thigh- you look like a wanton little beast who can barely contain themself from him. 

Kars likes you vocal, so that means you better be moaning, groaning, gasping, sobbing, and thanking him loudly. He doesn’t care who hears. If you try to hold your voice back he gets rougher to have you be louder. 

Most of your intimate encounters will be him getting you off in order to humiliate yourself/hear you praise him. But in the few times he does find himself craving your body, be prepared. 

He is huge. That doesn’t need to be stated but he’s big. Muscular. Strong. Tall. And he’s got full control of nearly every fiber of his body. As the perfect being, he knows he’s well-endowed and uses it to his advantage. 

Some days he’s merciful and likes to take his time and prepare you. He’ll coo to you as if you are a mindless little animal (you probably will be after how well he stimulates you) and praise you for taking him so well.

“How precious. Control your breaths, pet. You can’t be this exhausted when we’ve barely begun yet. Now… relax yourself.” 

Other days, he’s merciless and will use you without abandon. His cruelty and dominating nature comes out full force. 

“Hmph, is this how you treat your new god? Beg better, or I’ll stop. You should be grateful I even deign to touch your mortal body.” 

Although he insists he is not affected by your presence or that you are but a toy for him to entertain himself with, if someone were to threaten to harm or take you back (ie. Joseph/Caesar), he will step in and put an end to that foolish thought. 

“It is unwise of you to think that you will take what is mine away from me.” 

DIO (Stardust Crusaders)

A Dio fully in touch with his desires with little remorse or care. This new body of his makes him more confident and lecherous. 

The many ‘victims’ that take up his bedchambers are usually fodder he disposes of quickly. And the ones that are ‘lucky’ enough to escape are very few. 

You happen to be fortunately (or unfortunately) be his favorite. And being Dio’s favorite means many things. 

You get special privileges almost no one else receives. Only you are allowed to caress and touch him so brazenly and easily, and only you can get somewhat mouthy with him. 

He spoils you with fancier foods and drinks to fill you to your heart’s content. While others can argue over scraps, he gives you the opportunity to sit on his lap and feed him. And if he’s feeling nice, he’ll feed you too. 

You also are practically immune to anything, so long as you keep remaining his favorite. If a minion tries something with you? Dead. Someone from the ‘harem’ insults you? Dead. Hell, a bird made too loud of a noise? Dead. He finds it hilarious to inflict damage due to his whims and somewhat twisted obsession with you. 

“Hoh? Does it please you, knowing your lord is willing to go to such lengths to keep you safe? Now, what will you do to showcase how pleased you are?” 

Most people catch on very quickly to stay away from you, lest they face an untimely death. 

But it does mean he expects you to serve his every whim quickly. He’s so demanding with you, annoyingly so, actually, and he does it to mess with you. You’re his favorite but he will still be a joker with you. 

He feeds on you often, but is in enough control to reign himself from taking all your blood. Sometimes he “jokes” that he just wants to drain you dry, but it’s up in the air. 

Dio is pretty selfish in bed. Often he lays back and expects you to ride him, like a good pet should do for their lord. Go on, earn your keep. 

He enjoys clawing at your skin and caressing the scratches he leaves on you later on. 

Is not ashamed of making a public spectacle of you if he feels like it. Get used to him continuing to pound into you while Hol Horse attempts to give him a report update. 

He takes his frustration and anger out on you physically. When he gets news that the Crusaders have foiled another batch of minions, he might go get his violent (and bloody) fill with a few random mortals, then return to you and sternly tell you to get on your knees. The stone cold expression on his face makes the room drop a few degrees and he will not talk much in these sessions. 

Dio likes putting you in difficult situations for the thrill of it. Your reactions are always interesting, solidifying his interest in you. 

He does admit that he’d probably never put you first above his plans (which he seldom talks about except when you two are relaxing after an intense night) and sardonically chuckles that he may enjoy you now, but it can all change if you stop being ‘fun’ for him. 

But when Hol Horse attempts to grab you to threaten Dio, Dio’s face hardens in a way no one has ever seen before, and Hol Horse immediately aborts the plan. You’ve never seen Dio look that terrifying before. 

He doesn’t speak of that event again, instead telling you to return to the room and stay there. 

Expect him to keep him closer and have a tighter grip around you. 

Yoshikage Kira 

Hiding in plain sight has never been so easy for Kira after having his face switched with the poor sucker at Cinderella salon. 

He could lie a bit longer, play pretend as a dutiful husband as this random man whose appearance he has taken. 

He returns home to see you, the partner of the man he just took over, and he knows he’s in for trouble. He’s going to have to not only fend off suspicion from everyone else in town, but especially within his own home. He no longer has a safe space and it frustrates him. 

He has never been in a formal romantic relationship, but he attempts to act ‘normal’, keeping some distance but still ‘polite’. 

You don’t seem to suspect much- or maybe you’re just so happy to see some changes in your former husband- and always like to chat with Kira. At first he finds it dull and grating, despising how you talk about nothing useful. 

But he can’t be too bland, so he’ll respond back. Usually one word responses and the like just to satiate you enough to get him off his back. 

However, you’ll occasionally discuss a topic he is more interested in and then he’ll give you more of his personal opinion on the subject. Kira didn’t expect to find some comfort with having another person to share these discussions with. 

And while he hated the fact his normal schedule before acting as your husband changed, he slowly starts to grow fond of his new routine with you. Waking up and receiving a goodbye kiss before he goes off to work has become his new morning energizer. Coming home to see the table set with you waiting for him makes the nights a bit more pleasant. 

He’ll never really recognize if he enjoys this for real or if he’s doing this to keep up the act of a ‘good husband’. He’ll just let the days continue to go on like this while he loses the others off his back. 

Although, one thing that really took him off guard was your heavy affection and sexual desires for him. You have nice hands, he’ll give you that, but he was so taken aback by your behavior. Apparently, throughout the whole night when you dressed up extra nice for him and made him his favorite meal and were complimenting him and swooning over him- that supposedly meant you wanted to take him to the room for some bed breaking action. 

He honestly was so shocked that this was what your behavior meant and he had take a moment to recollect himself. Kira declined that first night because he truly has never had sex with another person, less so someone he was pretending to be married to. He was not mentally prepared for that to be thrown at him.

After calming himself down in a few days, he does attempt to be more physically intimate with you. 

Yeah he’s mostly focused on your hands at first. He still doesn’t recognize if he actually loves you yet, but he won’t decline you giving him a handjob or stroking your hands over his toned body. And he’s always ready to be licking your hands. 

After a few more times of these rather awkward and selfish sessions, he does pay it back and begins to explore your body more. He finds himself fascinated with how your chest rises and falls with every shaky breath and moan you let out. He likes the way your eyes roll into the back of your head. 

His compulsive tendencies do appear in the bedroom, and he does let them out, but they honestly come off as roleplay. It’s kinda hot to hear your normally calm husband just huff and lecture you while he bends your body around roughly to ‘set you straight’.  

“Enough of that. Seriously, can you not even put yourself together correctly? If you can’t dress properly, then don’t bother wearing anything at all.” 

He’s way too deep into this marriage life with you, getting extra frustrated if anyone dares to disturb whatever you two have going on. 

Diavolo 

He falls in lust first. He hasn’t learned his lesson from the last time. Diavolo is a heavy believer in the concept of ‘Fate’, but he believes he is the ‘King’ who can overcome it. 

Surely… ‘fate’ wanted you to be his subordinate. 

You do a wonderful job, you never ask any questions that are unnecessary, and you never stray too far from what he’s asked. You always manage to get the job done in your own, unique way. 

You’re his most trusted subordinate (underneath Doppio), and Diavolo can’t help but feel that selfish urge to contain you as a part of him forever. You’re attractive, so cunning, and so loyal to him- something that makes him believe you were meant to be ‘his’. 

He’s run from his past for so long, but that makes him cocky. If you were to somehow lose his interest, he surely would overcome this ‘challenge’ and defy your fate, too. You’ll never know what hit you. Not to mention, he completely believes he’ll be able to keep you in check and under his thumb. He’s learned that much from his time.

So he lets himself be known to you, after all, good servants deserve some ‘rewards’ from their king, do they not? 

He is a cruel man in bed, doing almost everything in his power to exert his control over you and dominate you. 

Bondage, toys, threats, punishments, and even using King Crimson are not too out of line for this sadist. 

He enjoys overstimulating you, loving the way you babble nonsense and tell him it’s ‘too much’. 

The louder and messier it is, the better. Anything to show you who is the one in control and in charge, and where your proper place as his most devoted servant is. 

He insists on a BDSM lifestyle outside of the bedroom too. Diavolo is not short on funds, so he’ll gift you an expensive accessory (probably with built in tracking on it) as a ‘reminder’ of who you belong to. 

But knowing Diavolo, it’s a veiled threat. Fail to comply with his demands, fail to be entertaining to him, or worst of all, fail to keep his trust- you’ll be dealt with swiftly. Choose wisely when he ‘graciously’ lets you roam free. 

He’s pretty giving otherwise. His constant jumping from villa to villa or hotel makes him take you with him and allow you some luxuries in those areas. You will always have a private suite away from the rabble and be able to relax. 

Diavolo finds it sweet that you’ll trace the paisley tattoos/markings on his arm (sorry I like tattoos so uh-). He’ll let you do it for a bit, all while smirking down at you in amusement. 

“Enjoying yourself, tesoro mio?” 

Gets incredibly angry at the thought of someone touching you or finding you. Not purely out of love- but as a desire to keep you to him. If someone figured out your relationship with him, he’d have to swiftly deal with them and possibly you to keep himself hidden. 

He does trust Doppio to escort you and take care of you, allowing him to be perhaps the only other person to see you physically and take you around wherever Diavolo needs you to be taken. 

Surprisingly, Diavolo likes to listen to the opera and will play some records for you both to listen to while you both unwind or he is working on mundane things for Passione. 

Enrico Pucci 

A master manipulator who believes everything he’s doing is for your own good. He meets in the prison- you’re down on your luck, but you’re earnest and seeking redemption. How could he not want to give you the peace you’ve been searching for? 

As the chaplain of Green Dolphin, he does get more access to you than others get, as well as allowing you the chance to take a break from your prison activities to talk or assist him. 

He believes the chance meeting with you, you who was so pitiful in the chapel and begging for anything to comfort you in your hard time, was another mechanization of “gravity”. 

It was simply fate to meet you, and it was fated that he had to be the one to save you. Perhaps this was a second chance at something he needed to do to be redeemed. Perhaps this was him seeing a kindred spirit within you.

Pucci takes it upon himself to offer you counsel or give you a moment of reprise. Once you two get closer, he begins to encourage more discussion and debate from you. 

“Humans are powerless to oppose fate. Wouldn’t you agree on that?” 

But Pucci is obviously not the completely helpful priest he acts as, as his more sinister and rough behaviors come out the more he is ‘pulled’ to you. 

Pucci does continue to use Whitesnake as a mouthpiece, often to voice more ‘warnings’ to you so you do not get scared of Pucci directly. Obviously Whitesnake is just a separate being from Pucci, and you have nothing to worry about, because you obviously were not planning on doing anything to jeopardize Pucci’s goals or ideals, right? 

He uses his authority and standing in Green Dolphin to get his way. Whether it is ridding of annoying prisoners or guards who bother you, or having you isolated as ‘punishment’ for perhaps doing something he didn’t like, Pucci will pull as many strings as he must. 

Only he has your best interests in mind, and only he is the one who can give you salvation and the hope you long for. He is your ‘fate’ so long as you comply. 

He has to admit, he is curious to get your Memory DISC to see all your memories. But he recognizes that would possibly be a step too far (he has some boundaries, he thinks) and attempts to get you to admit your memories on your own. 

Incredibly attentive and will recall anything you’ve told him with 100% accuracy. It can be comforting and nice when you want to vent or talk to him. Do not think you can lie your way around him, though. Whether you’ve intentionally lied to him or not, he will promptly correct you and tell you to be truthful. 

Pucci believes the Heaven Plan will save you and make you more willing to accept your fate. He confesses to you that what he’s doing will make you happier, will make you more free, and will make your tears dry up. 

Although he says that, sometimes, when he looks at you, he does get those same feelings from before he met Dio. Those dreams of running away, running far away and committing blasphemous acts with you, much like those of the novels he’s read. He brushes them aside and counts prime numbers to rid himself of those ideas. He’s so close to his goal. 

“Enough, Pucci. Enough. You’ve committed to this. You’re doing this for the good of humanity. Even if it’s hard, they’ll understand. They’ll come to learn to love their new life and accept their fate with a smile.” 

Funny Valentine 

Funny prioritizes public appearance and his goals over his private life. Despite Scarlet being gone from the picture, he isn’t all that distraught. But being a ‘widower’ does give him some sympathy from the public that he uses to leverage good PR. 

And you are such a helpful assistant to him. You always have everything under control, every plan together, and whatever he may need quickly finished and given to him without him having to utter a word. 

That competence is quite attractive to him, more so than your physical features (which he does enjoy and did catch his eye before). 

He thinks to himself as a joke that he’d just adore having multiple copies of you running around the White House (and in the room) thanks to D4C, but he knows how dangerous it would be to play with your life like that. You’re so useful to him now, so he’ll care for you. 

Funny pulls lots of all-nighters, especially during the Steel Ball Run, and that means, likewise, you are too, as his devout assistant. This does mean he’s more tired, but also more personable than his stern public face. 

Sometimes he rambles about anecdotes from his time in the army or working as a senator. Sometimes he’ll tell a bad joke that makes you laugh from the fact that the strong president would say such a strange thing out of nowhere. But sometimes, he’ll admit how lonely it is, being the most powerful man in America. Especially without anyone beside him. 

He takes advantage of the sob story he has to get you to be more vulnerable with him. And when you comfort him and offer him some help, he is quite happy internally that you did exactly what he hoped you’d do, but outwardly acts humble. 

“How kind of you, dear. You needn’t worry about my nonsense, though. You aren’t on my payroll to be my personal therapist. I already stress you enough, as is.” 

But you insist and who is he to deny you? 

It doesn’t take long after that for your relationship to go beyond professional boundaries. A touch here, a longing gaze there- and Funny has to admit he enjoys the thrill of having a secret affair going on with his assistant right under the nose of the rest of the workers there. 

And, scandalously, Funny is a freak. A really freaky guy. 

Don’t get fooled by his professional nature and good posture that he displays for the newspapers. Funny is perhaps the most experimental and freaky man on the list, willing to try almost anything at least once (and it does give a good excuse to take you to his chambers). 

He indulges in plenty of kinks; bondage, domination (whether you or him), roleplay, exhibitionism- it doesn’t matter. 

But he will try to reign himself in because he is the president, even if he’d love nothing more than to have you on his desk and weeping for him. His biggest kink is roleplay, and in private, he will want to be addressed differently. This must go on at all times behind closed doors. Failure to adhere to his rules or attempting to embarrass him publicly will result in punishment. 

“You little brat! Have I not been clear on what you were to do? Or were you hoping I would take matters into my own hands? Hm, since you seem to enjoy acting so improper, perhaps I shall reteach you manners. Lay down, now. I hope you’re prepared for what’s coming.” 

Funny can look calm during any arguments he has with you, thus making him a tough man to debate. He is authoritative and believes he knows what’s best. While some backtalk is fine for the most part, after a while he puts his foot down and tells you to stop. 

But then you two see each other after you’ve calmed down, and he holds you while apologizing. He’ll insist he loves you very, very much, but he’s just under so much stress and while you may have your heart in the right place, there are some things that just can’t go as you like. 

Possessive when it comes to you, keeping you monitored by guards and by his side almost 24/7. You weren’t planning on betraying the country you love so much, were you, dear?

[lymtw]

A continuation of You'll Be Waiting A While

Description: It doesn't matter that you're in love with Toji's son. He can still take care of you in ways that you can only dream Megumi will ever be able to.

(Part one does not need to be read to read on)

"Ugh, I can't see," you reach for the blindfold that is veiled snuggly over your eyes, only to receive a less than soft smack on the back of your hand, ending any attempt to remove it.

"Quit messing with it," Toji's deep voice intrudes.

"Why do you want me to wear this? I can't see your stupid face." You sigh, aiming your face to the ceiling in frustration.

"You can't see me, so follow the sound of my voice, kid. Come on, you're smarter than that." Toji lays on his stomach beside you, watching the way you idly move your head in an attempt to see through the blindfold. He likes the way you look kind of scared and lost.

"I miss Megumi," you mumble, licking your lips afterward. "Just wanted to see his handsome face one last time before the world went dark," you say, dramatically, as if you didn't study with him just yesterday.

Toji snickers, his hand coming up to rest on your stomach. "You really can't go a day without talking about my kid, huh? You know, each time we've met up, you've mentioned him."

You smile, the gesture progressing to a chuckle. Something about it makes Toji's dick twitch. "You jealous, Mr. Fushiguro?"

"Pfft, what of? The kid's got the personality of a wet towel."

"Yeah, I wonder who he got that from..." Your lips curl into a grin. You enjoy the playful banter that comes with being around Toji.

"Whatever you say." He chuckles. His hand slowly starts moving up towards your chest, going under the cup of your bra to palm at your breast.

"So, what's with the getup? You don't want to see my eyes?" You grin, slyly, anticipating his answer. "You wanna picture someone else, don't you?" You ask, enthusiastically.

"Calm down, brat, it's for you." He scoots over until he's laying between your legs and kisses just below your stomach, where the elastic band of your shorts roll down. "Want you to fantasize for a bit."

"About who?" You say, patting around in search of Toji's head.

He grabs your wrist, placing your hand on top of his head. "Anybody." He releases your hand, and rolls your shorts down, allowing you to kick them off once they meet your ankles. "Just don't be surprised when you actually get in bed with them and it's not as good as you imagined. It's my only warning," he murmurs, massaging circles into your hip with his thumb.

It goes quiet for a little, only the sound of your quiet breaths and gasps as he touches you like no one before him. He's not meticulous at all with the places he touches you because he knows that your senses are heightened, and any touch will manage to overwhelm you.

Toji hates to admit that the preference he has to you over other women has to do with your age. You're just so bright and enthusiastic over everything, open to anything because you haven't roamed the earth as long as he has. Yeah, you're not a Mary, but after every session with Toji, it seems like he was the first to deflower you. In your defense, you don't go sleeping around with the first man to call you 'pretty girl'. Strangely, that's exactly how Mr. Fushiguro got you...

"T-Toji?" You call, gasping sharply at the feeling of his tongue lapping between your thighs. You pull lightly at his hair, a response that doesn't faze him.

"Mm?" He hums in response, his mouth very much busy between your thighs, teasing your panty-clad cunt with his warm tongue.

"Do you do the same?" You ask, squirming beneath his touch.

"Gotta give me more, sweetheart. Do the same in what aspect?" He looks up at you, his forearms resting on your thighs.

"Do you close your eyes to fantasize about other women while you fuck me?"

He laughs. It's a strange question given how many times you've expressed disinterest in his private life, but he sees no need to tread around you. You're not his girlfriend. He hasn't cuffed you, nor you him.

"Rarely. It never lasts longer than a few seconds when I do." His lips press against your inner thigh, creating a trail of kisses until he reaches the crease between your pelvis and thigh.

"Why is that?" You ask, running your hand through his locks.

He pauses again. "Is this doing anything for you? Is it getting you off, asking me this?" You can hear the teasing lilt in his tone. "It's like you're trying to get to know me."

"Not really. Just wanna empathize with you, sir." You pull your hand away from his head and allow it to roam along with your other hand over your stomach, gradually raising them towards your chest. He likes the feeling of you pulling his hair when he eats you out so he brings one of your hands back to his head before he continues playing with your panties.

"You're a pretty girl," Toji murmurs, planting kisses on your clothed slit as he massages your thighs with his palms. "There's no need to think about someone else while I fuck you. You're enough of a visual," he assures. Maybe returning the question to you would be crossing the line, but whatever you and Toji do when nobody else is home is way past the line, anyway. "And you?"

"Gotta give me more than that, Mr. Fushiguro," you respond. Your sassiness lures a grin onto Toji's face. He loves that you can take what he dishes out and you can also return it in your own special way.

"Alright, then. Who runs through your mind when we fuck?"

Your lips curl upwards before you let out a bubbly giggle. You don't even have to say anything for Toji to take the hint.

"Don't," he says, in a deadpan tone.

"Don't what?" you ask, your lips twitching with more stifled laughter.

"You know what. Don't play dumb with me, little girl." He bites your thigh as punishment, which lures out a squeal from you.

"Hey, you didn't even let me answer. You just said 'don't', like you were disciplining a dog instead of talking to me."

"So answer," he says. You can hear the smirk in his tone, something that brings an unnecessary load of awareness to what is going on. You lost the timidness towards Toji long ago—the moment you started addressing each other by first names, to be exact, but his voice was really starting to bring back some of those nerves you felt at the start.

"Who do you fantasize about when I touch you?" As if he wants you to say him, he starts playing with you again, thumbing at your slit through your panties. He watches you from between your legs, adding more marks to your thighs as he awaits your unformed response. He can see the way your chest rises and falls with deeper breaths. Your hand goes up towards your face, aiming for the velvety texture that veils your eyes. You want to see him as he touches you, but that thought is swept away when you feel another dash of pain. Toji pinched your outer thigh, which made your body jolt at the sudden sting. It hurt, but it put a halt to your hand's movement.

"What did I tell you about the blindfold, huh?" He rubs the slightly reddened area on your leg with his warm palm.

"Don't... touch it," you respond, your nose slightly scrunched in pain.

"So, don't touch it. What do you need to see, right now? 'Cause I promise there's not much for you to look at here."

"Yeah, sorry. I'll leave it alone." Would he understand if you told him you wanted to see his face? It's not romantic at all. At least that's what you think.

"Good girl. Now, answer the question." He pulls down your panties, having lost the patience to continue teasing you through the spit dampened garment. "Who do you think about when I fuck you?" He asks, again, before running his tongue through your folds. You're as sweet as the sound of your moans.

"N-No one." A breathy moan is ripped from your throat at the feeling of the tip of his tongue focusing on your clit. He lets out a breath before latching his lips onto it, sucking while his middle and index fingers tease your already drooling hole. With a wet pop of his lips, he releases your needy bundle of nerves and looks up, just in time to catch the way your mouth gapes to release the softest moans and how your free hand paws at your chest. It's definitely a sight to behold.

"You're telling me you start off with static in your head and that I'm not the one who brings it on?"

"Yup." You giggle, sweetly, at the tsk that comes from Toji. "I'm joking. I guess..." you start, your tone making it sound like it's a burden to admit what you're about to say. "...my answer would be the same as yours."

"Which is?" He hums, diving right back in to your cunt. The sight of your drooling arousal makes him feel confident that you can handle one of his fingers. He times it perfectly, too. Just as you begin to answer, he starts easing the digit in, the act making you abruptly stop talking. He's in a trance, watching in complete awe as his finger disappears into you. "You were saying, doll face?"

"F-Fuck you," you say, through a broken moan.

"Oh, I plan to, pretty. I'm just getting you all nice and ready for me." He nearly groans at the sight of your slick clinging to his finger, the glossiness further amounting as he glides the digit in and out of you, smoothly. "Shit... look at that. Oh, wait. You can't."

"You're not..." you whimper, feeling the curl of his finger, deep within your walls. "You're... not funny."

"Damn, you're really struggling with just a finger today, huh? Has it been that long?" He smirks, knowing it's only been a few days.

"I can stay away for longer." You laugh at the brief pause in his movement. "Much longer."

"And you say i'm not funny," he says, low, as he leans down to coat his tongue with more of your taste. "You're not funny."

"Fuck, Toji..." you moan, at the low vibration of him humming around your clit.

"Mmm... love it when you say my name like that. None of that 'Mr. Fushiguro' bullshit, like when you acknowledge me after showing up here with my kid."

"M-Makes you feel as old as you are, huh?" You laugh, breathily.

"As if you wanting to jump my old man bones doesn't heal that jab to my ego, silly girl. Now, be a doll and lay still for me, yeah?" He says, taking his own jab at you and your composure. He gives you one more good curl of his finger before pulling it out.

"Toji..." you whine, frustrated by the vacancy in your cunt and loss of stimulation.

"Oh, quit fussing. This isn't just for you," he chides, bringing the digit up to his mouth and sucking it clean of your nectar. "God... I gotta hand it to you, doll. You're the sweetest."

"The sweetest?" You repeat, obliviously, waiting for him to elaborate.

"You can't be serious. You don't really think i'm talking about your attitude when my face is buried between your thighs, do you?"

"Who knows? Maybe i'm growing on you." You smirk, knowing he probably has the most perplexed look on his face.

"Heh, that's cute," he says, eyeing the strings of arousal that connect your sticky folds as he spreads them with his fingers. It wasn't a highly unlikely possibility. He wasn't seeing anyone, and you devoured each other often enough for his sexual needs to be satisfied by you alone. He can't lie and say he doesn't look forward to your illicit meetings. Those bright eyes of yours express so much, even when his view of them blurs with his hastiness as he pulls you into the house and drags you to his room. What he can admit is that this little dynamic you and him have built is tragic. You want his son, and based on the very brief and misleading conversation they had about you, Megumi wants you, too. Even so, he doesn't regret any of the things that have gone on between you two, and clearly he doesn't feel bad enough to stop seeing you.

You're falling apart on two of his fingers, now. Your chest heaves as he collects more and more of your slick with every plunge of his fingers into your walls. "Fuck, doll," he hums, amazed by the way your juices drool out when he drags his fingers out even slightly.

"T-Toji, fuck. Fuck..." you whimper, tugging harder on his hair. Toji knows you're about to cum. He can see the quiver in your stomach, and he can hear the way your breaths double, so he pulls out the soaked digits and allows his mouth to take over.

His tongue quickly catches onto the pace necessary to bring you over the edge. The muscle laps rapidly through your slit, luring more of those pretty sounds from you until they come out sharp and flow nonstop. When you cum, your cries are airy and your voice occasionally breaks from the frequency. Toji groans at the rush of your essence on his tongue and continues eating you out to his heart's content as you ride out the pleasure. He looks up to see your head pushed back into the pillow, your jaw hanging as moans continue to spill from your chewed up lips. You look like hell in all of the best ways. He loves the way your hips lift before rolling against the mattress, like you're trying to grind against his face.

You look and sound adorable when you ask him to stop. Your trembling thighs clamp around his head, and you're letting out the smallest whimpers. His tongue runs through you one last time to coat it with your taste before he lets up on the borderline overstimulation. "There, there. I'm done." He pats your cunt three times, relishing in the small whines and the twitching and jerking of your legs when his fingers make contact with your over sensitive clit.

"I almost kicked you," you say, through a laugh. Your breathing still isn't entirely steadied, but within seconds of hearing you talk again, Toji's hands are on you.

"Wouldn't be the first time. I thought you knew that I can handle your kicking, by now," he says, feeling up your thighs, while pressing kisses to your hips. You wish you could see him.

"That doesn't mean I want to kick you."

He laughs. "I think that's the nicest thing you've ever said to me. Looks like i'm growing on you, too, huh?"

"Stop..." you groan.

"You really are the sweetest altogether, aren't you?" He teases on when he spots the pout on your lips.

"You don't actually mean that, so the words sound annoying coming from you."

"Aw, does that hurt? Well, stop overthinking it, 'cause no one said anything about me not meaning what I said." He kisses his way up your body until he's face to face with you. "You're a nice..." He kisses your neck, sucking yet another mark onto your sensitive skin. "... and very sweet girl." His tongue comes out to lick the side of your neck, the gesture transitioning to a kiss beneath your ear. He cracks a grin at the sound of you gasping. "Oh? You never told me you got a thing for being praised."

"Everyone likes being told nice things," you respond.

"Don't redirect this. I'm talking about you," he murmurs into your jaw. "You like when I call you a good girl and tell you that you're perfect for my cock?"

You sigh, not able to stand behind your denial when you can feel yourself getting wetter with every word he says.

"If only you could see the way you're blushing, right now." He chuckles when you tilt your head, as if you're debating on whether you should turn away from him or not. "It's all good, pretty girl. There's no room for judgement between us." His hands go beneath your back and reach for the clasps of your bra. He swiftly unclips them and pulls the straps down your arms, smoothly removing the garment. It's tossed aside and forgotten about when he sees your bare chest. He wastes no time in taking one of your breasts into his hand, rolling the bud between his fingers while the other one gets sucked and mouthed on.

You run your fingers through his hair, soft moans and airy sighs leaving you as he licks and sucks on your nipples. You gasp when you feel the unmistakable sensation of him sucking marks onto your chest. You can feel him grinding against you, groans that he doesn't even bother trying to hide, vibrating against your skin. "You wet enough to take me?" He hums, concealing his own desire to be inside you.

"Y-Yeah, I think so."

He finishes off your other breast, latching onto and covering the sensitive bud with spit as he sucks on it. He releases the hardened peak and sits back to work his boxers off. He hisses as his painfully hard, leaking cock springs out and taps against his abdomen a couple times. "It'll be as good as the times before," he utters, spreading the beads of precum over his length to act as more lubricant. "Just relax for me, pretty girl."

Those were his final words before he started gliding his blunt tip between your folds. The contact made your heart beat a little faster, mainly because normally, you would be faced away from him. You're still wearing the blindfold so you can't see him, anyway, but this was off.

He taps your clit a couple times with the tip, smirking at the way you squirm. "What did I just say?"

"R-Relax? I'm relaxed. Just like always."

"Mhm," he hums, spotting the way your fists clench around his sheets. He disregards your sudden awkwardness and begins working his throbbing length into you. "Fuck, doll..." he groans, going really slow for his own sake. "How is it that you're still so tight, even after all the times i've gotten into your guts?" It's a rhetorical question, one that he knows that even if it wasn't, you wouldn't be able to answer. The stretch was as intense as ever, a sensation that you needed a quiet second to yourself for.

Soon enough, his cock is completely buried inside you. "Holy shit." He sighs, and smoothly rides his hands over your waist. He watches your chest rise and fall steadily, quiet labored breaths leaving you as you adjust to him. On the outside it seems like you're taking this better than he is, but on the inside, you're all over the place. You're way too focused on how his fingers, his palms—his hands— dig into your sides when he starts thrusting. You're all too aware of his skin against yours and his body heat and the sounds he makes.

"You like that? This is what you come back for, huh?" He grunts, picking up the pace of his thrusts when he notices your chest losing its calm and collected rhythm. He loves how small you appear in comparison to him and his hands and that all of you is so reactive to him. Despite him not being able to see those expressive eyes of yours, your mouth does plenty to communicate how you feel. From the weightless panting released from your quivering lips and the melodic sound of your moans, to the manner in which you verbally confess to the crime of your recurring return to him.

"Mhm... love how you fuck me, Toji," you babble, twisting the sheets in your hands. They're already messed up and splayed in every direction, so you have the liberty to pull them around.

"Yeah? Nobody satisfies you the same way, huh?"

You shake your head. "Mm-mm, nope."

He leans forward, and plants his forearms beside your head. You can feel his body pressed against yours as he picks up his pace again with this new position. "You know why you're not satisfied by anyone else?" He mutters into your ear. He doesn't even wait for you to respond. "It's 'cause you're a greedy girl, and they can't keep up because you need someone who is just as greedy. Maybe even more." He dons the most wicked smirk, like he's proud of himself for being the one who set the bar so high and ruined you for the rest of them.

He had to see the defeated look on your face. It's got to be priceless. He pulled the blindfold off, and was immediately met with your shut eyes and a small crease between your brows at the sudden brightness behind your eyelids. You didn't expect to be so turned on when you finally opened your eyes. You were met with bright green eyes staring hungrily at you. You looked far from defeated, and he looked like he wasn't going to leave you alive.

"What?" You, emptily, question the sudden lack of darkness.

"What?" He returns, groaning at the feeling of your cunt fluttering around him.

You just shake your head and try to stop getting in your head about the situation. Something about it seemed intimate. Very much so with how he wouldn't break eye contact with you as he continued to rail you. Those eyes conveyed desire that was amplified by the pace of his hips and the vulgar sounds that radiated from the moment.

Toji couldn't stop thinking about what was going on. This isn't how it normally went. Normally, there was a lot more dirty talk and ass slapping and marking, but this wasn't that, at all. Did it become strange the minute he decided to keep you in this position? Was he in the wrong for furthering the damage by uncovering your eyes so he could look into them? He had no regrets about what you and him got up to when left alone together, but maybe this was going past the makeshift line designated for people who fuck outside of relationships.

Regardless of those mind plaguing thoughts, he couldn't stop. It was unbelievably good. His eye contact was unwavering, and you looked right back at him. Whether the twinkling in your eyes was on brought on by him or you were just getting teary eyed from how close you were to your climax, didn't matter. He had only done it in this position with you once before, and it was a game. He just wanted to get you back in his bed and you just wanted your bra back.

This was not that.

You had the prettiest look on your face and the sweetest voice as you told him you were about to cum. Normally, he would be an asshole about it and kill your orgasm, but this time it would be at his expense as well, because he was right there with you.

His heart was racing and he felt so, so foolish, but none of it stopped him from leaning down to kiss you. He swallowed your moans and whimpers, and fed you his share of pleasured sounds through the intensity. You don't know what compelled you to pull him in closer, but in the mix of all the heavy breathing and the lewdness and messiness of your combined releases, you found yourself cupping his jaw and kissing him back. He slowed down the movement of his hips until they were steady against yours, but the kissing went on. You were stealing each other's oxygen, going back in for more every time it seemed like the kiss was going to break. With one last brush of your lips, the moment came to a standstill. Neither of you knew what to do or say as you just breathlessly stared at each other with slightly reddened lips and warm cheeks.

"Sorry," you both say at the same time, which made you chuckle. The sound made some of the tension disappear, which allowed Toji to breathe a little and grin at the way you laughed at the sound of your layered voices. Your hands haven't moved away from his jaw, and he hasn't leaned back to where he started.

Your laughter stopped and once again it went silent, save for the sound of your heart pounding in your ears. He doesn't know what's the matter with him, but within seconds of resolving the tension, his lips are back on yours again. Softer and slower, but equally as good as the first time around. You're the devil for not pushing him off of you and being the voice of reason in this situation. You could be yelling at him, telling him that it's wrong and reminding him that you're in love with Megumi, but no, that's not what you're doing. You're keeping him close with your fingers threaded through his hair and your other hand is on his shoulder blade, and you're kissing him back.

He's moving his hips again, rolling them languidly into yours and eliciting the quietest moans from you until the kissing is one sided.

"T-Toji, Toji- fuck, fuck..." Your nails dig into his shoulder blade, bright red strikes decorating the surface of the top right half of his back.

He groans, his warm breath fanning over your chin as he trails his kisses lower and lower down your face, until he reaches the column of your neck. "Yeah? Gonna cum, already? Gonna make a mess on me, again?"

All you can do is give him a small nod and a needy hum in confirmation, before he's picking up the pace and rocking into you with more force behind his thrusts. He's prodding at that sensitive spot within you with so much precision that your toes are curling and you're positive you've torn the skin on his back from how much you've clawed at it.

"F-Fuck, fuck... come on," he grunts. "You're gonna be a good girl and cum for me, right?"

"Mhm, y-yes! Yes, Toji!"

Within a couple more thrusts, you're trembling as you gush all over his cock, again, arching off the bed as the pleasure courses through every sinew of your being. "Yeah, give it to me, sweetheart," he groans, voice somewhat strained as your cunt violently spasms around him, effectively working to lure another load out of him. His hands go to your hips, pulling them in time to meet his thrusts. You can see the sweat beading on his forehead and his temples, the pinch in his brow as he teeters closer and closer until his cum spurts into you. "Shit..." he pants, as he spills everything inside. "Oh fuck."

He released the iron grip he had on your hips and pulled out of you. He sat back and watched as your chest inflated and deflated through your heavy breathing as he himself also worked to level out his own breathing. You were glowing, a light sheen of sweat layered over your chest and neck and forehead. You were downright ethereal in his eyes and he said this to you. It was coded, but he said it.

"God, you're a mess." He chuckles, breathily, as he stares at his cum oozing out of you. He runs two fingers between your slit and collects enough to show you how it drips down his fingers and onto his knuckles.

"That's mostly your mess," you say, chuckling at the look of disbelief on his face.

"I think it's a fifty-fifty," he counters.

"Mhm, whatever you say." You stretch your arms above your head, getting a good stretch in for your back at that same time. You sit up and start looking for your scattered clothes.

"Megumi won't be home until tomorrow," Toji says, watching as you sit on the edge of the bed and start picking up your clothes. This is how your time together always ended.

"Yeah, he texted me about it yesterday. I figured i'd go home and take a bath since i'm such a mess." You grin at the annoyed click of his tongue.

"I've got a bathtub and all the essentials for a bath."

"That's nice. You should put them to use, you're looking pretty messy yourself."

He's trying to get you to stay longer. Maybe you aren't thinking about those kisses, but he can't get them out of his head, regardless of how juvenile it may seem for a man of his age.

"You don't have to go if you don't want to," he tries, again, watching as you search for one last garment—your bra. It's on the opposite side of the bed where Toji tossed it aside earlier.

"I don't wanna overstay my welcome. Where the hell is..." you trail off, frustratedly rummaging around through places you've already searched for your forgotten bra.

Your focus is redirected when you feel him tracing your spine, from the bottom to the top. "Do it. Overstay your welcome."

You smirk when his hand slides its way up from your shoulder, to your neck, before caressing your cheek. "Don't tell me you're feeling lonely, Toji."

He brushes his knuckles over your cheek, as if the gesture is a method of softening you up. Luckily for him, it was working.

"I'll keep you fed and clean."

You snicker and gently push his hand away. "Once again, you're talking to me like i'm some dog."

"You know that's not how I meant it. Don't twist my intentions, brat."

"Well, is it so hard to say, 'I'll buy you dinner' and 'You can wash up here'?" You smile at him, showing that there is no bite to your words.

He takes in the sweetness of your smile and drops the edge to his words. "I'll buy you dinner and you can wash up here."

You grin and playfully pat his chest, before standing and wrapping yourself up in the sheets so that you can migrate to the bathroom with more modesty. "Yeah, I got it the first time," you say, and Toji swears you'll be the death of him with these little jokes of yours. You drop the sheets when your body gets between the door frame and the door. You peek your head out and watch as Toji organizes your clothes for when you get out. "Hey, uh... do you mind helping me find my bra? It's gone missing. Again."

[arlertwhore]

pairing: paige bueckers x fem! “sneaky link” reader.

synopsis: paige & you find a new hookup spot: your parents' house. what else do you find? that the chemistry never left after all - you just have to get paige in the right space - literally. warning(s): smut, strap 😬, paige eats it from da back, dirty talk / fluffy pretty much, degrading, choking, idk bro this is from memory i didn't read it so 🤷‍♀️ find out yourself word count: 4.1k (SHESSH) Author Note: the anticipated part 6 that took forever to write because of terrible writers' block. the creative spark just isn't there for this series anymore, so this alone will serve as the conclusion to the series, however — i do have a draft i'll release that can be regarded as a part 7. thanks tons for all the support on something i played around with and got hooked on! love u all sm ☺️❣️

Being at the family home of the girl Paige was casually involved with wasn't exactly how she pictured the UCONN long weekend off going. She and the team had planned a series of fun activities, and although your invitation completely disrupted those plans, she couldn't say no. "Hello? I… Team's awake, I'm in the washroom, be quick."

You chuckle softly. "So I guess that means now isn't a good time to tell you you're coming back home with me this weekend?" Paige sees her reflection and watches her resolve surface, anticipating that you're going to try to escalate things back into what they shouldn't be, breaking down the walls she has up.

She scoffs. "Y/N, you know we can't do that." "I won, Paige, fair and square. You said 'anything', you promised!" you insist, taking advantage of the fact that as a competitor, she'll honor her word. "Yeah, but don't you think it's a little bit intense for me to meet your family? I mean, I just don't want to overstep any boundaries," she stammers, uncertain. You glare at your phone, staring at the wavering voicebox of Paige. "You realize I'm doing this for you, right? How I always am? And because it's too hot to keep banging you in your car?" you say firmly. Finding new spots for clandestine rendezvous was proving increasingly challenging. At least with the constant change of locations, sneaking around, and adventure, you could pretend to yourself that you were going on the first date you knew Paige would never officially give you. And if she wasn't going to give you that first date, the least you could ask for was a comfortable bed. But you knew her, you knew her rules, and the only thing you had left was that victory over her head on the club Friday, so you wanted to use it.

It falls silent on her end. Paige doesn't want to talk about your sacrifices for this.

For you and her. For her. You want to tell Paige how it affects you to be nothing but a secret to her, especially now that she's afraid of her team's disapproval and seemingly everyone else's, meanwhile, you bust your ass, comply, and accommodate everything that being her confidante requires, but for the sake of your own feelings, you know you can't. She will leave you. She'd made that clear from the beginning. Paige's commitment issues and seemingly inability to have genuine emotions for a girl are frustrating, especially given her actions toward you. Perhaps back then, before she forgave your sins against her strict rules, took your virginity, and got to know you far beyond casual, you didn't care. But now, you knew her well enough to trust her around your family and you couldn't risk losing the only person in the world who just seemed to get you. None of your 'close' friends, who didn't care for a thing to do with you, deserved to be the one you chose. Even if she sometimes treated you like you were nothing, you knew the only person for you was her. And plus, your parents were nice people. She didn't have to worry about judgment like she always did — I mean for crying out loud they raised you, nerdy, quiet, and a loner up until this point of your life. Male or female, they'd be proud to see something good with the person they put out into the world.

"This isn't... meeting your family isn't 'anything,'" Paige countered, hushing after hearing footsteps pass the washroom door. "And plus, we have shit planned for this weekend. What do I tell th—" Team. You roll your eyes. The team left, the team right, the team all around. You cut her off. "You're visiting your Grandma."

And again, you win. Still, Paige sighs. "This isn't exactly fair for you to just spring on me, y'know? I've been so hyped for the plans this weekend and you just... you ruined them!" You can hear she's serious, her tone half angry yet delivered with a lightheartedness that doesn't ease the blow of her words. All you did was invite her to come home with you, supposedly 'ruining' her plans. You retort, "Ruining? Jeez, thanks, Paige." "Yeah!" she refutes, still trying to whisper. You giggle, then mutter provocatively, "Should've eaten my pussy better, loser," knowing it'll halt her momentum. You gloat, "Gosh, how do you fail at something as easy as that? Something you've been doing since you were 16!" The banter continues. "You'll change your mind on that soon," she predicts.

You chuckle confidently. "We'll see about that, peanut butter. Bags packed, 10 am sharp. Don't keep me waiting, loser," making your point clear.

You end the call with Paige and smirk to yourself, feeling a mix of anticipation and defiance. You can't believe how much of a rebel you've become, just as Paige can't—once so pristine when she first met you, she's corrupted you to the point of using your parents' place as a sneaky link spot. But with you guys left rendered optionless, Paige's next move was to fabricate a story about picking up her clothes if their shared app alerted her location. However, the plan was soiled with the early arrival of your new roommate, a freshman named Maggie, and you had no choice but to evacuate Connecticut altogether, returning to your place in the city just over; calmer, more serene, and familiar. You quickly text your parents: "Bringing a friend," before rushing off to pack. You'll try to keep them out of your hair as much as possible. It's only a 4-day stay, and they're both very schedule-oriented people, so you anticipate that you and Paige will have the house to yourselves mostly. Just as you're about to finish packing, you recall the strap and text Paige again, sending a picture of you holding it with the caption, "Bring??" She ignores your question about the strap and instead frets like she did the day you first showed it to her, as if she has a big performance the next day. She texts you back:

"Should I dress girly? Do I bring a gift? Are you sure they're okay with us?" She's overwhelmed with uncertainty, unsure of how to navigate this new territory, but you don't give her any tips because Paige needs to figure it out herself. You know it's how she's always rolled, relying on herself. You ignore her and continue, "Sooo, strap on or not? I'd love to try it out on you finally.☺️"

"Now especially no," she shoots back. Then she follows up, cryptically, "You're not the only one with surprises. Trust me. We won't need it." At that remark, you hop into bed eagerly and await sleep, yearning for the day to arrive faster. You stop thinking obsessively about why she won't let you use it on her, and it's the last thing on your mind before you doze off. At 9 AM, you're awake, welcoming your new roommate Maggie, and by 10, you're out and at Paige's dorm. She's waiting outside, readied. She doesn't know how to not dress like a tomboy, so she's awkwardly masculine, but now in pink, and the sight throws you off guard. You thought she'd figure her shit out better than that, and you laugh as you film her, to use it as blackmail in case she ever leaks the many pictures and videos she has of you (which you know she won't). When she climbs into the car after stowing her bag in the backseat, she grabs your wrists and uses her strong grip to hold them in one hand as she deletes the videos, uttering, "Think you're funny, huh, ma?" "No... I think you are," you chuckle, and Paige pushes you away playfully by the forehead. You tease her relentlessly, the amusement of your time with her just beginning and already infectious. She rolls her eyes, shaking her head at your immaturity with a shy smile on her face. "I can't believe I agreed to this," she grumbles and you echo the words from last night, chortling, "You had no choice, remember, Paige Puckers?" a play on words at how she drunkenly, clumsily, and messily explored a tactic that, while it did get you off eventually, was hard to get the hang of at first. She smirks and you see the challenge in her eyes. "I'll make you eat those words, ma, just watch." As you guys veer off, Paige takes control of the music and begins shedding layers until she's left in just the pink flannel, a sports bra, and basketball shorts, feeling overheated. She's so absorbed in the music that when you arrive, she doesn't notice she's partially undressed until the door swings open to your parents, and she quickly tugs the flannel over her body tighter. She watches with a smile as you hug your mother warmly, while Paige stands back, observing. "And you must be the friend she spoke of!" your father extends his hand for a shake, and Paige reciprocates, resisting the urge to give him a fist bump, as that's all she knows. "Paige," she replies calmly, "It's nice to meet you, sir. And Ma'am," she nods to your mother afterward, who smiles before stepping aside. "Well, come on in, girls, this heat is stifling." You all sit down with a cold pitcher of iced tea after bringing your bags up to your room. As you settle at the kitchen island, your parents strike up a friendly conversation with Paige across from you.

You start to regret the whole situation when your mom and Paige hit it off too well, and your mom embarrasses you. "Y'know, it's about time I met a friend of hers, Paige. You're the first; she's never really had any," your mom remarks, and you feel yourself blush. "Mom!" you interject, embarrassed.

"No, no, let her. You've been teasing me all day, you deserve it," Paige chimes in with a chuckle, playfully slapping her knee. "So, I hear Paige plays basketball, Y/N. Seeing as she's never really been the athlete type, you know, more of a bookworm? How did you two meet?" she inquires. You grow hotter, not good for the warm weather. You can't tell your Mom & Dad that: "Hey Mom, I got hammered at a party for the first time, drunkenly approached Paige's friends, and ranted to them about how I would marry her, then made out with her in the bathroom before proceeding to let her fuck me within an inch of my life the following weekend." You were still their little, strange, friendless, and focused girl. "Things just clicked," Paige answers, PG'ing and summarizing the story. "She was just... looking like the life of the party, and I thought she looked fun, so I wanted to get to know her." "Did you find out that looks are deceiving?" your mom asks again, and Paige is genuinely and seriously laughing—not the "haha parent way," but actual laughter. When even your father chimes in and says, "I bet she forces you to practice Telekinesis and stuff like that, huh?" is when you truly decide you won't tolerate the bullying. "Cytokinesis, Dad," you correct as you get up. "And I study developmental biology now. That Bio for children." And besides, you didn't want Paige to get too close to them anyway—just close enough to exist in their house unbothered.

We're gonna go pick you girls up some dinner!" said your mom cheerfully. "We'd love you to join us."

Paige begins to say yes, but you interject, "Actually, we're gonna have a nap. The ride was exhausting." She doesn't budge, so enthralled with your parents that she isn't catching on until you have to gently pull her out of her chair, trailing off with her as she calls back to your mom who had asked, "Paige, what do you like?"

"Y'alls sense of humor!" she chuckles, because Paige just gets her (they enjoy teasing you together).

"Okay, girls, don't nap too hard!" jokes your dad, and before the door can even close, you're kissing Paige deeply in the upstairs corridor, trying to make her forget everything she'd been told. Napping is the last thing you'll be doing. Her hand comes to your chest, attempting to push you away, but you're resilient and hold her with determination as you back her into the doorframe of your bedroom. "Since when were you such a scaredy pants?" you tease as you strip off your clothes, not bothering to lock the door. "We've been walking around in public everywhere these days, and inside is when you get nervous?" Within seconds, before Paige even shuts the bedroom door behind her, you're naked against her, pressing your tits against hers firmly as you shower her with a barrage of kisses. "Gonna make me eat my words still?" you challenge her. Paige slowly realizes you weren't joking about just wanting a comfortable place to have sex with her, and that it was the primary purpose of her visit. She still can't shift gears because she'd been with your parents just a moment ago, and now you're in this intimate moment. So you help her.

"Because it looks like I'm making you eat yours." you smirk at her teasingly. Before you know it, you've pumped the gas so hard she has you turned over on all fours on the bed, back arched invitingly. She wastes no time with you, and despite your usual verbosity, the way you yield to her the moment her tongue delves into your cunt is undeniable. You press back into her face, enveloping her between your thighs and asscheeks, and Paige thinks if she's going to go, she wouldn't have it any other way. You whimper softly in pleasure, squirming as you press against her warm tongue, and Paige chuckles, the vibrations from the deep shrill causing you to jolt forward, feeling the hum pulsate through your pussy hauntingly. "Aw, shit, Paige, you get me so wet," you moan desperately, "You make me so crazy, fuck." The thrill of the moment is evident in her eyes, wide with desire as she gazes at you from above her. You look back at her below you, eyes lidded and mouth parted in an 'o', and you look pornographic. It's sick, really, to think how just moments ago she was conversing with your parents, and now, here she was, tounge enamored filthily in your cunt, savoring every drop of arousal from your desperate dripping hole. "Your pussy tastes so good," Paige murmured, her lips puckering as she spoke before gently nibbling at your clit, swirling her tongue around the pearl in a circular motion, which you absentmindedly replicate with your finger as you gripped the sheets, groaning deeply. Maybe after all, you did like the plump of her lips encasing you as her tongue worked at your clit fervently, making soft wet noises. "Shut up, Paige," you said, "You're gonna-I'll cu-" you're too prideful to say it could EVER happen that early, and just continue to grind your hips against her pretty face, not bothering to ask how she's holding up. Judging by the way she slurps at your clit voraciously, her tongue eagerly scrambling from the front to the back of your cunt, clit to entrance, laving through it hungrily each stroke of the muscle and eliciting the nastiest and most repulsive sounds you've ever heard, yet somehow the sexiest, you have reason to believe she's doing just fine. And you tell her how fine she's doing through a broken, fucked out, and breathless assurance of, "Y'so good, P," biting your lip as you whine your hips languidly, whispering, "Keep going, please." She pulls back, struggling to find her breath. "You're a fucking—" she gasps for air, "You're a slut." The way she says it leaves you aching for more devaluing words, because when Paige utters them, it sends you into a frenzy unlike anything else. In the haze of it, you plead, "Shit, just fuck me, I... fingers, I need them." She rises from her knees. "Say it," she demanded, smacking your ass, and meeting your gaze. "Tell me what you are." You don't have a chance to answer before she presses you down hard, into the mattress, and you gasp at the intense pressure, feeling your cheeks flush impossibly hotter. "A slut," you strainedly admit, the pressure on your back knocking the wind out of you. The words, though so sexily demeaning, are true at the moment.

She's pummeling you in your childhood bedroom and has the audacity to demand sharply, "Louder!" as she presses you down, causing the ache in the first place. You fight for breath, complicitly declaring, "A slut, Paige, mmph!"

You should've known you were in for a ride the moment Paige fell silent. Arms pinned behind your back in between her palms, you squirm at the feel of something much thicker than her fingers rimming against your cunt, and you can't see it, so you start to panic. You can only feel it. It's so large you fear it might break you, and before you can say anything, Paige has eased the tip inside you with a dazed sigh. Your head crooks back to watch her face as she sinks her cock into you, and it makes her heart jump because it's a little too intimate and it reminds her of the first time ever. Still, she doesn't attempt to break it. It's sexy to both of you and it's not often that it happens. She's typically invested in gazing at your body or your lips, or just has her eyes closed, but the look in her eye as she leans forward is intense, and the one in yours gets Paige wetter at the mere sight. She's so satisfied by how you have no choice but to yield and take it, take her - until your body involuntarily starts to falter, punctured by the weight of it pulling you down from inside your body. "So...fuckin'....sexy," she moaned, her free hand gripping your hips and reigning them back as her own pressed forward simultaneously, fucking you thoroughly. She repeats the act, pulling you back and pushing forward until she thrusts particularly hard, and gasps herself. It's genuine, and you're unsure how to react to hearing her moan so sincerely. You simply nod approvingly. "I love how you sound when you fuck me, P," you encourage her, to which she replies, "I love how it feels when I fuck you, baby," "Then don't stop," you cry as you rock forward, slots of arousal pulsating from your core and coating her strap in opaque white. "I'd never want you to." It's insane how when she releases your wrists and manages to sink into you fully, she begins using your body like a toy, ruthlessly owning your cunt with grunts of satisfaction each time your ass claps against her, your skin clapping together. "Such a tight little pussy, God," she praises, watching the sight of your cunt expanding and then resetting with how thick she is, struggling to not get wrecked. With how this strap is made, when you come back against her, she feels every sensation, each thrust pushing the double-ended dildo deeper inside of her as it slides in and out, quicker when you fuck her back. So she might be using you like a fleshlight for the tip to rub the walls of her G-spot, but you can't blame her. She's doing all the work. You lie there helpless and overwhelmed with pleasure as she hammers into you from behind, pulling you back by your hair to meet her gaze, so you can see her and the way she wrecks you proudly. "Fuck yourself on it, angel, please," she pleaded, and it's sweeter than the sinful look she's giving you. Experimentally, you push back hard, meeting her strokes, and she whimpers directly in front of your face, a high-pitched, desperate sound that emerges from deep within her body. "Please," she begged again, "You're gonna make me cum, aw fuck, baby," Your eyes roll back into your head. At the tempo you set for yourself to feel good and the one Paige sets for you to make HER feel good by throwing it back on her, essentially for you, you feel your climax on the horizon. "I want it, Paige, cum with me," you plead. "Yeah?" she grunts, her voice gritty. "You want P's cum? Think you deserve it?"

"I-I do." "Then fuck it out of me," she commands, hands tightening around your waist and pulling your back flush against her chest, essentially hugging you as you rut against her, crying out her name with each movement.

She grips your tit in one hand, squeezing gently and pulling, "Go, baby, yeah.. just like that, make me cum," and though she's trying to steady it, you hear how her voice cracks a couple of times. It sounds so sexy and it gets so raw that it gets to the point where you're actually throwing it back, popping your hips and whining it so quickly Paige can't even help you move faster for both of you. She can't catch your ass as it bounces so vigorously, the visual mesmerizing as she watches. "Don't stop, ma," You're trembling, toes curling uncontrollably as you whine and whimper and grind against her. "I'm close!" you gasp, and just as Paige speeds up, the front door opens downstairs, and her hand flies up to your neck, silencing you, her other hand muffling your sounds. You reach your climax with no air left in you as footsteps approach up the stairs, and you shout into a pillow. Paige is quick enough to press your face into said pillow by this point and finish both of you off, her body pressed against yours as she huffs into your ear. You swear you hear her say it, even if she'll try to deny it later. "You're mine, fuck," as she cums, panting. You lay there, Paige on-top of you, flush against your body, limp.

And for a moment, the world stills, your hearing muffles, but you can still hear your Dad knocking carefully. "Still asleep girls?" he asks. Paige nods, smiling. "Yeah! If it's okay, we're gonna head for a walk before dinner. Y/N needs to wake up!" She's right — you're so overwhelmed that you find yourself outside, dressed, sitting on a bench in your neighborhood park. Yet Paige is still clinging to you for reasons you can't quite grasp.

The gentle, refreshing breeze envelops you both, the park empty and serene. Lost in each other's embrace, you finally pull away, the words tumbling out: "That felt like the first time, kind of."

Perhaps it had considering the two of you finally got to do something more sexually exciting in behest of maneuvering sex in her car.

Paige's response helps it all make sense. "I know." She might be swept up in the moment, but you don't protest. If it feels good, it does, and you eagerly pull her back in as she grips your sore ass, moving you over her lap to straddle her, kneading it. "I bought you...my strap as a gift because I wanted to thank you for, you know, how good of a...link you are," she says affectionately. You gaze deeply into her eyes, refusing to let her look away as you study her face.

She's so serious and so stupid for choosing to get in her feelings while at your parents' house for the week - with you. "What?" she asks intently, eyes tracing over your face as she searches for your reaction. "Is that-... Are you okay?" When you don't answer, lost in the post-coital haze, smiling softly, she murmurs, "So pretty." She doesn't even try to hide she's in the ropes of it too, but while out of the haze, she doesn't think there's ever been a moment when she's seen you look as beautiful as you do when you're in this blissful state.

"Paige?" you whisper, head buried in the curve of her neck as she moves to gently stroke your back soothingly. "Yeah?"

"Do you feel this too?" The question is extremely raw, earnest, and vulnerable, but under the spell of the moment, it sounds like magic to her ears. "Yeah, I... yeah."

"Have you felt it before?" you inquire softly, searching her eyes. "Besides the first time? Because I... I have. I do."

She holds you tighter, placing you back into the crook of her neck, and you suppose she's ducking from letting you see her when you feel her nod. "You're gonna get me in trouble, y'know. You always do."

You smile softly, kissing her soft skin. Little does she know, you already have. MASTERLIST

AUTHOR NOTE #2: this ending i think can cap off the series perfectly because it's left up to the interpretation of the reader. i mean, lmk if i should release the pt 7 draft when i start releasing drafts anyway! lmk anything on your mind I LOVEE you anons / moots / ppl who message me / ppl who reply to my posts, ur all the funniest ppl ever! - ana.