#i hope you like it even though it's pretty short

[oopsiedaisydeer]

omg could you do a matt fic where him and reader are waking up and he like nuzzles against her face and his stubble tickles her skin

ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴛᴜʙʙʟᴇ ꜱᴛʀᴜɢɢʟᴇ

fluff, established relationship, facial hair, morning cuddles, playful teasing, lighthearted, tickling, matt being annoying but lovable

The first thing you register is warmth—heavy, familiar warmth draped over your body like a human-sized blanket. You blink your eyes open, but all you see is a mess of brown hair and a sleepy face buried against your shoulder.

Matt.

You barely get the chance to move before he shifts, pressing his face further into your neck, his stubble dragging against your skin. The sensation sends an involuntary shiver down your spine—ticklish, yes, but not entirely unpleasant.

“Matt,” you mumble, voice thick with sleep. “Your face is scratchy.”

He only grunts in response, nuzzling even closer like a cat seeking the perfect spot. The roughness of his barely-there beard grazes your cheek, then your jaw, making you squirm.

“Stop,” you giggle, pushing weakly at his shoulder. “That tickles.”

“Good,” he mutters, voice still raspy from sleep. “You deserve it.”

“For what?” You let your head fall back against the pillow, giving him a look that’s half amused, half exasperated.

“For waking me up.”

“I didn’t wake you up,” you protest, but he’s already rolling halfway on top of you, his arms tightening around your waist in retaliation. His nose bumps against your cheek, and you can practically feel his smirk before he speaks again.

“Well, you’re awake, so now I have to be, too. And if I have to suffer—” he rubs his chin along your jaw for emphasis, making you squeal, though there’s a part of you that secretly doesn’t mind, “—then so do you.”

You try to shove him away, but he’s too solid, too warm, and honestly? You don’t really mind. Still, you play along, wiggling beneath him like you’re trying to escape.

“Matt! That’s itchy. And evil.”

“You love it.”

You huff, but your giggles betray you. His teasing slows, his nuzzling turning softer, lazier, until he’s just resting against you, breathing you in. His lips brush your temple, barely there, but enough to make your heart stutter in your chest.

You’re pretty sure you should still be annoyed, but the way his stubble feels against your skin—comforting in its own way—keeps you from pushing him away completely.

“You’re annoying,” you whisper, more out of habit than anything else.

Matt hums sleepily, pulling you impossibly closer. “Mmm. But I’m your annoying.”

creds to rose for the divider ! @bernardsbendystraws <3

a/n: hope u like anon!! ik it's not long but i felt like writing smth short and sweet :p

taglist: @blushsturns @sturnslutz @snoopychris @hazedsturns @sturns-mermaid @chrissweetheart @cowboylikenat @camzeecorner @sturniolo101 @courta13 @sweetshuga @st7rnioioss @throatgoat4u @shadowthesim237 @emely9274 @sturnberries @bluestriips @lovergirl4gracieabrams @chrisslut04 @tezzzzzzzz

[askqueenmoon]

A summary of the rest of the story:

This is late, but better late than never I suppose. I've been asked a couple of times over the years to post the rest of the story, but I never knew how to go about writing it up, so here we go Chapter 3

This was the last one I had a proper script for. I guess partially 4? There was a snippet with Twilight and Spike figuring out how to find element bearers but I dunno if it made much sense. The script here is a bit rough and probably needed some refinement, but it gets the point across. The following are the last pages I worked on, two of which were never posted.

[START SCRIPT] He gives a short laugh. “Sorry about that! Nice to meet’cha. Name’s Nox. I hope those restraints aren’t too tight. You might be a prisoner, but there’s no need for you to be uncomfortable here.”

“…” Fluttershy glares at him.

Wow that’s actually a really great impression of my boss… You’re not related to Brass are you?

I guess you’re not the talkative type huh? That's alright, I can do it for you. How’s about we start with a name?

"Says here you’re Fluttershy. Only child of Cloud Cover and Posey who were prominent figures of the Velvet Carnation Movement until their untimely deaths ten years ago during the Ponyville fire, leading to you dropping out of Cloudsdale flight school. Currently you live in a cottage on the outskirts of New Ponyville and run an animal caretaking service.” Fluttershy is shocked, and he’s grinning “Pretty spooky, huh? The crown’s got eyes and ears everywhere… But it looks like few places are escaping us… saaay… the hiding places of your Red Sun friends?”

Fluttershy raises an eyebrow.

“Look, I get it. You don’t trust me or anypony in the castle for that matter, but you’re here on charges of attempted regicide and that means you’re on a fast track to a short rope. But I know you’re just another pony that’s been twisted by the Red Sun. If you work with us-

“I’ll never work for Nightmare Moon!” She blurts out angrily.

“But you’ll follow the Red Sun? Do you even know what kind of things they do? Because they certainly aren’t the heroes some ponies make them out to be.

“All they want is an Equestria where ponies can live in peace-” “Peace?”He places several photos on the table. ”Blood rituals, bombings of public gathering places, foalnapping and ransoming ponies to fund their activities.” Fluttershy's face is concerned. “Remember the wild weather that destroyed the harvest in Tall Tale last fall? Well the Red Sun’s goons stole the relief supplies our Queen sent. They were alright with leaving thousands to starve.

“Even if that were the case, I didn’t want to do what I did, but someone had to stand up to her. She’s nothing more than a big bully and I couldn’t sit around anymore and watch her hurt more innocent ponies. I had to try, and If that means this is my last day on Gaia, then so be it. New Fluttershy isn’t a coward!” “That’s quite noble of you. Ponies that selfless are hard to come by… which is why I don’t want to see you go down for this. Tell me who helped plan the attack and the Crown won’t press charges. I’ll make it so you never stepped hoof in Canterlot. You could go on with your life… Go back to your cottage… back to your pet.” Slides forward picture of angel. [PAGE BREAK] Fluttershy is thinking of Angel and other animals from back home. "I can’t do that. They helped put my life back together. I won’t let you hurt them. “Would they do the same for you though? I mean… they didn’t come for you when you got captured. They don’t care about YOU, they cared about what you could do FOR them.” “What and you care?” “Fluttershy, I just want to give you your life back. The way I see it, a cult took advantage of a young troubled mare and made you do things you'd never think to do otherwise. If the Red Sun was willing to sacrifice someone as kind as you, who else would they be willing to throw away for their selfish goals?” “They’re not like that…” She looks a bit more unsure this time. [PAGE BREAK] All I ask in return for your freedom is a name. If you won't do it for yourself, do it for the ones that care for you and would like to see you again. Take some time to think about it. He gets up and leaves. Fluttershy looks down pensively. [PAGE BREAK]

Nox exits. “That went well! Wanna grab a bite, Sabre? I’m thinking sandwiches-- Something with peanut butter. Crunchy, obviously. Crystal Sabre is there, looking at Nox, exasperated. She points at him accusingly. “I told you that wasn’t going to go anywhere. You should have let me interrogate her. “Look, until Brass gets back, I have to fill in for her, and that means I’m stuck with a mountain of paperwork. I even had to get up for that emergency meeting this morning! Let me have a little fun! Besides, I have a feeling it wasn’t all for nothing. “The Red Sun’s never been this bold before…What do you think changed?” Fluttershy says through the intercom window thingy “I want to talk to Rainbow Dash!” “…Who?”

[END SCRIPT]

In the end, I got too scared of the idea of backlash from one of my OCs being mean to Fluttershy ^^;; I recognize that it may not have been the case, but after how much hate I got for killing off a random guard, younger me got too scared to stick to this script and I flip flopped between redoing it or leaving it. I came to love the characters I had originally made for the sole purpose of filling cabinet roles. I struggled bring myself to make one of them the antagonist in an interaction with someone as beloved as Fluttershy. I ended up putting off the decision long enough that I lost interest in continuing the story though. This script was not the main reason I lost interest in the story, but it was a factor. My original points stand, and I don't regret deciding to let this comic go so I could branch out.

A chunk I wrote with Twilight: Sunset shimmer was a failed magician that was previously in Night's employ Twilight actually would have talked about here in this chunk: [START SCRIPT] “We know the elements are all part of a system. If they’re inactive, the bond is still there, it’s just faint, like how on a map you might not see a road between a town and Canterlot, but there has to be one because duh, all roads lead to Canterlot. We have pieces of the system and if we can isolate that link between the pieces, we could follow the link from one element back to the others. All we need to do is fine tune Rarity’s gem finding spell so instead of the beacon being any old gem, it’s whatever is on the other side of the link. Spike: “Wouldn’t the mages before you already have tried something like that? Twi: “Well the last one, Sunset or something, (Frowny scrunchy face), destroyed all of the notes from previous experiments so we’re pretty much starting from scratch, but even if they did, we have something they didn’t! A working element!” [END SCRIPT]

Night burned through so many young and eager mages trying to get what she wanted. Once they weren't useful, they got dumped.

Rest of it:

The big bad evil was going to be the guard Fenix who is actually a body hopping spirit of an alicorn from the ancient alicorn empire before it got decimated in the Alicorn-Draconequus wars. The alicorns had purged themselves of their "darkness" and went on a crusade to bring greatness and order to the rest of Gaia. The last of the Draconequus sacrificed themselves to break the alicorns into the three/four pony tribes--essentially exterminating both races. One of the newly minted unicorns had been in the Empress's inner council and refused to die quietly like the others. Since then, he's been taking over other unicorns' bodies as a way of living forever because he's scared of death (Unicorns because he wasn't sure if non-unicorns could do the necessary magic to prolong his life). That's why Fenix's personality changed when his buddy died in the flashback told by his cousin (The hopping usually kills original person. The original Fenix is gone, there's just the rogue soul now. The previous body was going to die, so he jumped ship before it did). The changeling comment by his cousin was meant to be a diversion.

The entity in Fenix's body had been around for thousands of years, just living a regular life. Ever since the rise of the two sisters, he attached himself to their leadership, usually hanging around as a soldier/guard of some kind, because he still believes in the Alicorns' right to rule and wants to help with bringing glory to Equestria and serve the greater good--the Alicorns and the ideals they choose to rule by.

Fenix had been fine living as just a guard, even under Nightmare Moon. Witnessing her uncertainty and paranoia--how the country was being divided by Night's poor leadership in recent years (especially after the whole assassin and Quake dying)--he became disillusioned by Night's rule and would go on to lead a rebellion against her by plotting to take the Elements of Harmony for himself, hopping into the body of the Red Sun Rebellion's Leader- Sunset Shimmer, then eventually hopping into Celestia to become Solar Flare/Daybreaker or Evil Celestia or whatever. The Elements of Harmony were actually ancient alicorn weapons of mass destruction. The enchantment that made them had mutated over the millennia, becoming something completely new, but contact with the soul of an alicorn of old would have ignited something. Not exactly a reset, but they would have recognized one of their original users and their original purpose.

Night is actually the darkness (a shade) that had been purged from the Alicorn Empress in the old days. It gained a will of it's own over years and forged a pact with Luna to help her take over the kingdom. She didn't remember who she was, only fragments because she was all the parts of the Empress that were deemed impure/bad. They were fine being partner rulers for a while, but then an offhanded comment led to Ponyville being burned to the ground by zealots in the Queen's name 15 or so years ago --this had been to destroy the Velvet Carnation Movement which had been a peaceful group advocating for democracy instead of monarchies--and they'd been feuding ever since and only recently made up in the comic.

Night would have freed Celestia from the Sun of her own volition to try to appease the population and show that she is a good ruler and stop all the talk of rebellion. She wanted to use her as a political puppet. Celestia would have been on a short leash.

Night would have died at the end of the comic, sacrificing herself to put an end to the old empire once and for all by holding down evil Celestia as they both get blasted by the Friendship Elements beam. The old ways were wrong, it was time to stop clinging onto the past--Celestia and Luna are left to make up and rebuild Equestria.

There was definitely a lot of middle stuff that I never figured out, but I did like the story. It just grew increasingly clear that it wasn't something I could ever finish.

Here are some of the alicorn designs I never got around to showing:

I feels quite nice to finally have it all out there.

[marauder-misprint]

Can you do something with a Welsh reader x either Remus or Sirius? Thank you 😊 💓 ☺️ 💗 💛 💖 😊 💓 ☺️ 💗 💛 💖

Hi and thank you for this request! ❤︎ This ended up being a meet cute-esque thing with a lot less Welsh than I originally intended, but oh well. Translations at the bottom! Hope you enjoy! ❤︎

Teach me Welsh

Sirius Black x Welsh!reader

1.8k words

cw: fluff, Welsh from Google Translate

“Bore da,” you would say sleepily to Remus as you paused by him every morning in the Great Hall. 

He’d manage to mumble out a ‘good morning’ without looking up from his tea, but Sirius’ eyes always followed you down the length of the table until you sat down with your friends. Sirius was never a morning person, but the thought of hearing your voice was enough to make him roll out of bed. Well, if Remus was getting up, that is. You wouldn’t wish the rest of the Marauders ‘good morning.’ Only Remus – and Sirius wasn’t a fan of that. 

“Remind me again how you know Y/N?” Sirius asked, blowing on his tea before taking a sip. 

Remus rolled his eyes and groaned. “We’ve been going to school together for, what, six years now?”

“So have I and you’re the only one who gets a good morning.”

“Sometimes we travel to the station together. You know, living in Wales and all?” 

“Right, right…” Sirius murmured, glancing down the table toward you again. 

Growing up in London, he often forgot that some people had a greater distance to travel to get to King’s Cross Station. You were stirring your mug slowly, having just placed a few sugar cubes into it. One of your elbows rested on the table with your palm supporting your head. You looked like the epitome of sleepy. A very cuddly and cozy sleepy. 

“Y/N’s caught your fancy, she has?” Peter asked.

“She’s pretty,” Sirius said, trying to sound disinterested. 

“Pretty doesn’t have you asking about them every other day,” Remus said with a sly smile. “You could talk to her, you know. After breakfast when she’s more awake.”

“Padfoot talk to a girl? Moony, are you mental?” James gasped, joining the conversation after having been staring at Lily for the past few minutes. He threw a firm arm around Sirius’ shoulder and gave them a shake. “He is nothing compared to our local Casanova!”

Remus blushed deeply at James’ teasing. He usually tried to let the boys’ jokes bounce off of him but for some reason, being called the Gryffindor Casanova affected him. The boys just laughed at Remus’ reaction and carried on with breakfast. Sirius went quiet though. He was trying to think of something he could talk to you about, preferably something other than school. He thought about it for the rest of breakfast. He only broke out of his trance when he saw you stand up with your friends to leave. 

Immediately, Sirius stood up with his eyes locked on you. He grabbed his bag and left. He didn’t even say bye to his friends. He had a mission and that mission was talking to you, as Remus had suggested. It was after breakfast now so you must not be as sleepy, right? 

“Hey! Y/N!” he called the moment he stepped out of the hall.

You and your friends were a short distance away, but enough to warrant a raised voice. Your whole group turned around at his voice. Sirius walked up to the paused group, hoping he looked confident rather than uncertain. 

“Sirius?” you greeted him, sounding as uncertain as he actually felt. 

“Can I walk you to class?” 

You cast a confused look to your friends, but within seconds, they had cleared the scene. They answered his question for you.

“Yeah,” you said, pausing before adding, “Don’t you have Charms with me?”

“Ah, bloody hell, now I won’t be late to my class…”

“That why you walk girls to class? To be late to your own?”

“No! No,” Sirius exclaimed, as if trying to take back what he said. “Just a bonus to spending time with pretty girls.”

Sirius flashed you his trademark grin and took the books you were carrying.

“Rule number one about being walked to class, bloke carries the books.”

“Noted,” you said with a giggle. 

You started to walk towards the Charms classroom. Sirius fell uncharacteristically quiet, which was bizarre to you. From what you had witnessed and heard from gossip about him, Sirius was not only, but a notorious flirt. Him being quiet after asking to walk you to class felt odd. 

The whole walk ended up being quiet, and Sirius was mentally beating himself up for it. After telling you that he was to carry your books, he didn’t know what to say. He followed you to where you usually sat and put your books down.

“Thanks, Sirius,” you said, giving him a soft smile.

He nodded, unable to speak. He then went to his own seat, forcefully throwing his bag onto his desk. The faintest sound of straining fabric could be heard if he was listening, but he wasn’t. 

“How’d it go?” James asked as the rest of his friends arrived at the classroom.

“Horrible.”

“You walked her to class, didn’t you?” Remus asked. “You didn’t come back into the hall all defeated looking.”

“I walked her. But I didn’t talk to her.”

“You walked in silence?” Remus asked.

“The whole way.”

Sirius hung his head as the boys started laughing.

“Just…” Remus started to say but his words were cut off by more laughter. “Just… Ffwrch… Try again…” 

“Try again?” Sirius repeated, narrowing his eyes at his friend who still couldn’t control his laughter.

Remus cleared his throat, hoping that would help. “We all have Potions after this. Maybe you needed a warm up or something.”

“Right…” 

Then Flitwick began the class. Sirius paid less attention to the less than he did to his friends during breakfast. Instead, he watched you and tried to think of something, anything, he could say to you. 

He would apologize for not saying anything on the walk to Charms. Yes, that was a good place to start. But where to go from there? If you traveled with Remus, you were probably from the same town. Remus had mentioned something about sheep herders… Was that something? Maybe he could ask if you lived near the coast? Sirius shook his head, hoping it would dispel the bad ideas from his head. A worse one appeared. Asking what part of England you were from and calling you English. 

No. We are trying to get her to like us. 

Sirius was already accepting that he was going to fail his second attempt. After Flitwick dismissed class, Sirius was standing up and moving toward your desk, intent on catching you before you disappeared out of the classroom.

“Can we try that again? You had Potions next, yeah?” Sirius asked, already picking up your books before you could answer.

“Wow, he knows we have classes together,” you said, giving him that same soft smile.

Without thinking, you grabbed onto his arm near his elbow. It made it so he was more of your guide as you left the classroom together. Remus, witnessing all of this, was certain that you liked Sirius in the same way he liked you. It helped that you also had hinted at it weeks ago in confidence in the library after a long night of studying. This just all but confirmed it.

Remus, with James and Peter in tow, followed close behind you and Sirius. They were just within earshot of the conversation that wasn’t happening.

“Let’s help them along, shall we?” Remus asked.

Then he was pulling out his wand and pointing it at the worn bag over Sirius’ shoulder. A quick flick of his wand was all he needed. 

Rip. Thunk, thunk, thunk.

All of Sirius’ things spilled onto the floor of the now-busy corridor.

“Oh, cachiad!” you gasped, jumping to the side.

The three boys brushed past Sirius with smirks on their faces. After a moment, you joined Sirius in gathering all of his things. You went a little further down the corridor to gather a book that had been kicked. 

“Why do you have The Iliad in your bag?” you asked as you handed it back to him.

He hummed. “Well, it’s not in my bag anymore…”

You laughed at his poor joke. That made him smile.

“‘M reading it.”

“You can read? Remus would have me believing that you got burned by every book you touch.”

“Ha,” he said with minimal mirth in his voice. “I’m quite literate. I just prefer to do it recreationally rather than educationally.”

You nodded. “Being assigned to read can really take the fun out of it.”

“Remus doesn’t share that notion.”

“No, he does. I think he just cares about his grades more than you do.”

“I care… enough,” Sirius said, squinting one of his eyes. “I pass my classes.” 

You finished gathering all of his things and without a bag, you helped carry his things. He was still determined to carry your things. 

“Tell me then, Black. What is something you care about more than what we’re literally here for?” 

Without missing a beat, Sirius said, “Enjoying life and making people smile. You have a beautiful one by the way.”

There it was. His charm was back and all it apparently took was one ripped bag and an emptying-out corridor. It did feel like you and Sirius were walking at a decreasing pace. Sirius was in no hurry to make it to your next class and, to his delight, you didn’t seem to be either. 

“That sounds like a line you use on all your girls,” you said, smiling nonetheless. 

“Only the prettiest ones. And, I must say, you certainly qualify. Exceeding Expectations and well on your way to Outstanding.”

You laughed and bumped gently into Sirius’ shoulder, careful enough to make sure neither of you dropped anything. 

“What would get me to that O? You must know I strive for excellence.” 

“Would you teach me some words in Welsh?” Sirius offered. “I know cachiad and ffwrch and sguthan from Remus.”

“Ah, most of the important ones then,” you laughed with a shake of your head. “Probably heard me say bore da to him in the mornings. That’d be good morning.”

“That makes sense. Could’ve come to that conclusion.”

“Um, your little trio from Remus is missing twll tin, arsehole.”

“Twll tin,” Sirius repeated, making you giggle.

“You sound cute when you speak welsh.”

Sirius made a face. “Cute? Sirius Black is not cute.”

“But you are! Especially when you’re saying arsehole like it’s a question!” 

“Just don’t want to say it wrong.”

“Mispronounce and say something worse?” 

“Exactly!”

“Sirius, it’s arsehole and you already know cachiad and ffwrch. Not language you’d use to speak to the queen.” 

“Welsh isn’t a language I’d use to speak to the queen,” he retorted. 

“Fair enough.”

You smiled at each other and fell into matching fits of laughter. 

“So, you’ll teach me more?” Sirius asked.

“You got time now?” you replied.

Translations from here and google

bore da - good morning

Cachiad - shit

Ffwrch - fuck

Sguthan - bitch

twll tin - arsehole

---

Tag: @bruxa0007

[16wolke11]

PENGUINS-Ollie Bearman

A/N I hope you like this pretty random shot of Ollie

WORDS: 1519

SYNOPSIS: When Ollie is drunk he likes to ramble. Todays topic: Penguins

__________

It's a late Sunday evening after a long race weekend. The drivers have either already left for the airport to get as much time at home as possible, are finally resting, or are at this party. Even though all of them are pretty tired after the adrenaline of the race has calmed down, some of them are still going strong. Some linger on the dance floor, others just sit around, talking with each other, most of them with a drink in their hand, not caring about keeping up their picture-perfect behaviour for the media.

Since I am working with Prema in the supporting junior categories, I do know a fair amount of the drivers, helped them achieve their dreams, or just was with them one step in their journey. Because of that, I end up at those parties pretty often. They know they can be themselves around me, and I am glad they feel so relaxed with me being there, even though I am not in their driver bubble.

"Hey." A tall figure comes closer to me, and I don't even need to see him properly to know who it is.

"Hi Ollie." I smile at him, having to look upwards because he is towering over me. He is swaying lightly on his feet, and I am pretty sure he is drunk by now, eyes glossy and struggling to focus on my face.

"You're different." Ollie just blurts out before taking a sip from his drink. I raise my eyebrow, kind of used to his strange behaviour, but this kind of approach is new.

"Am I?" I ask him and tilt my head slightly to the side, having no clue in what direction this conversation is going to turn, while Ollie just nods.

"Yes, you don't just talk about normal stuff, but also about the weird things people say." He blabbers, and I need to suppress the grin coming onto my lips, already knowing this will be one of the weird kinds of conversations.

"Well, I try to be a good listener." I shrug my shoulders while being honest. Thinking that it is important to listen to people, even though their topic might not be my favourite. For example, encouraging a child to speak about their favourite dinosaur or a drunk Ollie and Kimi trying to explain to me the concept of something they came up with.

"And even though you said some strange things before, I kind of like it." I add, telling him the truth. Sometimes a good chat while being more or slightly less drunk is all you need.

"Strange, huh?" Ollie huffs, crinkles his forehead, like he has to think about it, before a goofy smile comes onto his lips.

"I guess I say some weird stuff sometimes." He admits before one of these stories comes to his mind and his eyes light up.

"Like, do you remember the time I told you about how I would be a great superhero? I could like... bam, save the world with a slice of pizza or something." Ollie fulfils a mimicked throw of a pizza slice, spilling some of his drink over his hands, but he doesn't even notice.

"I think your idea was to throw it like a boomerang. But sure, a superhero with pizza powers would certainly be interesting." I nod along, remembering this conversation pretty well. How he imagined the different flavours having different benefits for his attacks.

"Pizza powers were a good one." Ollie sighs, smiling proudly at the memory, only being quiet for a short moment before speaking up again.

"But you know what? I've been thinking," Ollie pauses, now sounding pretty serious. "I think I am onto something."

"Something deeper." He adds, and I bite down on the inside of my cheek to suppress the laugh. If it is at the same level as pizza-powers, I am curious about what he has come up with this time.

"What's in your head now?" I ask him, knowing I encourage him even more, but that is probably a big part of our friendship.

"Have you ever... have you ever thought about penguins? Like really thought about them?" Ollie asks, and I just blink at him while he continues.

"Not just pictures, but the wild ones." He adds, leaning forward a bit, while he gestures with his free hand. Then he wraps his arm around my shoulders, clumsily pulls me closer, before ending his speech.

"I think we should think more about penguins. A LOT more."

"Penguins?" I ask him, struggling a bit to keep standing straight because he is leaning his weight onto me, and I am not exactly tall enough to support his body. "Uh, okay... what do you mean exactly?" I ask him, eyeing our surroundings for an empty couch or something where I can let him sit down safely.

"They are this tiny tuxedo-wearing," Ollie starts, missing one word while his hands are gesturing around. "Creatures," he finally adds.

"They waddle around cute and stuff, but they are also like SUPER deep, you know?" Ollie asks me but doesn't give me a chance to say something before continuing his penguin speech.

"They mate for life and wander through ice and snow to find their... what's the word again? Their soulmate or whatever." He stares at me for a moment, before dropping his voice like he is telling me a secret.

"Like, that's what we humans should be doing."

I stare at him for a moment, trying to process all the things he just told me. "Wait, so you think we should be more like penguins? That's your idea?" I ask him with raised eyebrows, still struggling under his weight, but suddenly he is standing up straight again.

"You get it!" Ollie exclaims, clapping his hands once, a wide smile on his lips.

"We don't appreciate them enough, and we should talk about them more."

"They bring a gift to their partner, a little stone." Ollie pauses, trying to create a dramatic build-up, but it is rather hilarious seeing him sway on his feet while holding this passionate speech about penguins.

"I don't even know if someone would like getting a stone, but they do it. Searching for the perfect one in the frozen world, deciding which one is the perfect and... okay, maybe not the dramatic search, but still." Ollie's words are slurred, but I do my best to follow his explanations, finally breaking into a smile.

"So, you want us all to give stones to each other? Like romantic stone gifting?" I laugh softly, not about his idea, because it is really cute, but just about the fact that he knows all this stuff in a drunk state.

"Yes!" Now Ollie beams, probably picturing the scene in his head right now.

"It's not about the stone, the gift, but the effort. The thought and the commitment." Ollie explains, and my heart warms up. It is comforting to think about true love between two creatures being sealed by something as simple as a stone.

"Penguins don't worry about the best stuff," Ollie continues. "They're just giving their hearts away in the form of a stone. I can't even walk to the kitchen without tripping, and penguins?" He has to stop because he has to hiccup. "They are penguin-ing through life and being awesome." Ollie nods to underline his own words, and by now the smile is plastered on my lips.

"Okay, I think we've established that penguins might be romantic creatures, but maybe we need to tone down the penguin obsession for now. And I think you've had enough to drink, don't you think?" I tell him, trying to reach for his drink, but Ollie just holds it higher, so that I can't reach it.

"You don't get it." Ollie pouts, attempting to cross his arms, but then realizing he can't do it without lowering his arms again.

"Don't you ever just want to be a penguin?" He asks me with a dreamy look in his eyes.

"Forget about the stress, no bills, no deadlines. Just waddling, sliding on your belly, and gifting your favourite penguin a stone." Ollie sighs, looking into the distance, and my heart aches softly. His whole speech about penguins probably has a deeper meaning with him wanting a partner for life or something like that, but at the same time, it is pretty hilarious.

"I just want to be a penguin, a free-waddling penguin." He pouts again, and I stare at him with a grin.

"I think you had too much to drink." I state again because if I am certain of something, then that Ollie shouldn't finish this drink and especially not get another one after it.

"Maybe." Ollie admits, lowering his arm, but still caught in his little penguin daydream.

"But we need to talk more about the penguins, we're not done here." He grins, eyes sparkling with passion.

"We are just getting started."

And I am sure the rest of my night will contain a lot of facts about penguins, a drunk Ollie, and memories that will brighten up any dark moment.

[gtwscratch]

Many project x questions for you today I hope you do not mind :)

1- Theoretically could one use heat tracking cameras to monitor Jimmy when he’s invisible? I imagine that’d probably be useful for tests involving him (probably for Lizzie also)

2- You’ve mentioned certain people having restraints but are these different for everyone? I imagine tango at least has some on his legs that’d have to be pretty short to prevent him from running which I imagine might make walking difficult :( (I assume after his escape attempt they always use them on him even if it’s unlikely he’d try again cause you can never be too certain). Joel maybe some kinda binding for his wings or a heavy ass weight to stop him getting far or smth idk I am spitballing™️

3- What normally happens if a person is injured enough to need medical attention? Like I assume they get treated but are they chained to the bed? Drugged? Some secret third thing?

4- Do gem and grian project and talk to the dead? to at least keep them and by extension cleo company as best they can? Do the workers know they can talk to the dead?

5- If Scott has permanent gills does he need to wet them to prevent them being damaged? Does he have to take baths or smth and breathe through them or smth? Or are they purely cosmetic?

6- Do they ever do sensory deprivation tests on martyn? I can see that both being a relief for his poor ears and also simultaneously horrifying because he’s so used hearing everything. Would they test removing or bombarding his other senses to see if that affects anything such as by flashing bright lights etc? (Btw unrelated but I keep picturing his and rens sleeping arrangement being them curled up with both sets of hands over his ears so he sleeps better <3)

7- Do they have any form of entertainment outside of talking to each other? Can they hear each other through the glass/walls? If not have they developed some rudimentary sign language to compensate? I think they deserve some kinda chill group yoga session or smth even if only to prevent muscle wastage from sitting in a cell all day /j

8- are they still going fitter genetic testing with everyone? Will peoples powers continue to mutate over time? I know you are keeping the abilities close too canon but it’d be interesting if you took it father 👀

9- Do you plan to do anything with just general character traits or hcs? Such as the fairly common hc of bdubs not veing too fond of the night/dark? I fear you have even more opportunity for suffering if so

I don’t mind at all!

1.) Yes, however I think they would only be used for testing. The scientists are so sure that Jimmy would never attempt escape on his own that all the cameras outside of testing rooms would be normal cameras.

2.) For those who have restraints, they do vary. Impulse’s power-suppressing collar and cuffs can hook up to chains that that stretched to the floor of his cell (he’s docile for the most part, but sometimes he’ll start thinking too much about Skizz, and then he can get violent). Cleo’s got the muzzle and cuffs, but none of those restrain her powers (she doesn’t use them that often anyways). Tango’s power-suppressing collar and cuffs do have the ability to hook up to chains the same way Impulse’s do, but there’s no need for those to be used (as of right now). At the moment, no one else needs to have restraints.

3.) Just like for if a subject gets sick, they are well taken care of, and they get proper medical treatment. They do get some extra security though, and the number of guards depends on the threat level of the injured subject.

4.) Gem and Grian do indeed talk to the dead (Grian cried when he stopped projecting the first time he got to see Mumbo after his death). Cleo has no idea that the two can talk to Skizz and Mumbo as zombified Skizz and Mumbo can’t speak. And no, the scientists have no idea that they can interact with the dead, and Gen and Grian plan to keep it that way.

5.) They are purely cosmetic and they cannot function properly. He was pushed past his limits too quickly, and he panicked while transforming. Just like in Wild Life, he can’t turn into aquatic creatures.

6.) I think the only sensory deprivation they’d test on him would be his sight. Like, “can he hear even better when he can only rely on sound?” (I’m gonna go ahead and say that the sleeping arrangement is canon bc that is SO CUTE AUGH!!)

7.) Not really. Every so often a scientist or guard will mess something up, and that gives them a little entertainment, but it’s not much. The glass between the cells is nearly completely soundproof, and Martyn is the only one who can hear anything clearly outside of his cell, and to talk between cells, everyone has some kind of crude sign language that they use.

8.) I don’t think people’s powers will mutate too much. In theory, that’s a really cool concept, and I would like to do that, but I don’t know how I’d incorporate it within the storyline.

9.) Probably, but I haven’t thought about what to do with what just yet.

[luiluvr]

more than life || luigi mangione

this is based off of this request! the ending </3 i hope someone gets the reference ^_^ and inspired by more than life bc i love glaive sm

WARNINGS: mostly fluff, ending is a bit suggestive ;) not completely proofread sorry it's a little short lol, i'm working on some longer fics atm !!

SUMMARY: Luigi has a bad dream about you leaving him for one of his friends, you wake him after hearing him crying beside you and he tells you what happened. You reassure him that you'll never leave and cuddle him close.

WC: 1.1k

Sleep at night was always rough for Luigi, not by his own choice. 

You’d notice his jitters and quick breaths as he tried to find comfort in the mattress beneath you both. Tonight seemed nicer than most, he finally got to rest, his long lashes extended from his closed eyelids and his breaths were calm – he looked so peaceful. You’d gone out to hang out with a group of mutual friends that day, everything was genuinely a lot of fun, Luigi enjoyed himself – so did you.

Well, you thought he did.

For Luigi, he was pretty insecure about one of his friends, specifically this one. Martin was a smooth guy, so cheerful, interactive and overall just an outgoing person. Sure, Luigi liked going out, exploring, socializing, but sometimes keeping up was more difficult than he led on.

He knew his back pains were inconvenient for you, he couldn’t do all the things you wished to and it really annoyed him – especially knowing how open Martin was about doing the same things you dreamt of doing with Luigi. Sometimes it was painfully obvious how he moved in on you, but you were a little oblivious to it; (and so deeply in love with Luigi.)

Luigi struggled to see the love some days.

Today was that day.

So vividly he dreamed, seeing those broad shoulders, his friend’s stronger build and those arms wrapped around you. He could see the genuine joy in your eyes as you looked at him. “I’m sorry Lu, I just don’t think we’re right for each other.” You said so sweetly despite the knives in each word.

Even if it was a dream; his mind did a damn good job of making it seem like real life – he hated that he couldn’t distinguish reality from a dream and it was bothering him terribly. “I just think we’re both better off this way…” You would never say that, right?

“No, no, you love me.” He says – barely above a regular whisper. Your head tilts, you give him the most heartbreaking yet loving smile he’s ever seen. “I do love you, I really do, Lu,” That voice broke him in a million pieces, he could feel his tear ducts swell with tears that fought hard to stream down his freckled-cheeks. “but I think I want to try something else.” 

He watched you, he didn’t know what truly happened after the fact, because you walked away, down the street; and like some cliché film - rain fell down, soaking his hair and mixing with his tears. 

You heard sniffles, shivering as though someone were crying. It was a few minutes of listening before you realized it was Luigi who was crying in bed beside you. Slowly, you reach over and flick on a lamp, then turn over in bed and gently shake his shoulder.

“Lu?” You whisper. He shifted ever so slightly,

“Luigi.” you repeated. He let out a soft groan, coming to, finding he wasn’t being abandoned by you, he was in the dim-lit room and accompanied by you. “Y/N…” He murmurs, rolling over to huddle up against you, it caught you off guard how clingy he suddenly was. 

“What’s wrong?”

He was so, so very embarrassed. He didn’t want to tell you that he was insecure – he didn’t want to admit he was so attached to you that something as dumb as a dream made him sob like a big baby. You take his head in your arms and gaze over his swollen eyes, “You can tell me anything, honey.” You say softly to him, brushing your fingers through his faintly tangled curls. 

“I had a dream,” he started, trying to catch his breath. “That you left me for someone else.”

You frown, it was a ridiculous thought on its own because you would never leave him. Definitely not for someone else either. “Luigi,” you hum, kissing his forehead softly. He lays his head on your chest and sniffles again. “It’s okay sweetheart, you know I would never leave you, right? Nothing and no one would ever make me even think about breaking up with you. You’re everything to me.”

He smiled weakly, looking up at you. You very carefully used your thumbs to wipe his cheeks of tears, then cup his face and trace over his stubble. “I love you so much, Luigi.” You say before planting a kiss on his pouty lips. He melts and kisses you back, his smile curving up more. 

“I’m sorry if I woke you up.” He murmurs.

“You didn't, baby.”

“It was so real, it scared me.”

You lean back on the pillows and bring him with you, holding him close. He nuzzles against your breast and exhales out all of his worries. “I’ve got you, Lu. I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me.”

He opens an eye to look back at you. For a bit you lay in silence, cradling the taller male. He’s all cozied up beside you. Your eyes had fallen shut, in hopes sleep would be easier for the two of you tonight.

Then his voice softly perked up. “I need you more than life, amore mio.” He says quietly. "Seriously, I don't think I could live without you. I think if I ever lost you I'd just die." You shake your head and hold him closer, still cuddled close. "Good thing you're never losing me."

“You know what would make me feel better?” He asks.

"What is it?"

He leans up and crawls over your body, his smirk becoming a grin. "If you could remind me how much you love me." He states suggestively. 

“Oh Lu, you’re such a little shit.” You chuckle. "You know I love you, I tell you all the time."

He kisses you, cupping your smaller face in his large palm. “Yeah, I know.” He says as he kisses along your cheek, up to the base of your neck, and he softly bites your earlobe. “I just wanna make sure no one ever makes you feel the way I do.”

“Nobody can, my dear." You state, he got a little more confident in kissing down to your collarbones, placing a big kiss right in the middle of them. 

“So you won’t be leaving me?”

“No. God, no. Never.”

Luigi smiles, “Promise me, and sign the contract.” He says, gesturing to his lips.

“Seriously? This again?” He was obsessed with some movie on Netflix called Hit Man, you introduced him to it. In the film, he had her under the impression he was a hitman, and for their relationship to work out they had to keep it under the radar, she would tell him to sign the contract by kissing her lips.

“C’mon, I liked that movie.”

“Fair enough,” you say, kissing him to “seal the deal.”

He liked the ending the most.

“Anywhere else I need to sign?” 

“Maybe....If you don't mind,” Luigi smirks, “you’ll just have to get on your knees f’me.”

[blueheron15]

better than the movies

inspired by this ask! hope you like anon <3

warnings: some cursing, light fluff at the end, sooo much fluff, jj is kinda an idiot!!

you were truly jj’s person. the one person who was there for him no matter what, along with the rest of the pogues of course, but it was always different with you.

you showed him gentleness, true love, sweetness, and support. your kind heart and beautiful mind had him absolutely enamored.

that’s not to say, though, he wasn’t an idiot sometimes. typical jj.

you rolled over in your bed with a pout, staring at jj’s message and wondering how to respond.

you: are you almost here?

you: jj?

you: please answer

jj: hi baby

jj: i’m sorry but i got distracted with the boys and long story short i’m staying at john b’s tonight

you: oh

jj: but we were planning on hanging here tomorrow anyways so i’ll see you in the morning is that okay? love you ❤️

you fought back tears and typed out a respond, trying not to sound hurt.

you: yeah i love you too

you clicked you phone off, dropping it some where on your mattress. you knew jj loved and cared about you. but, after dating for nearly a year, these kind of events had begun to happen more and more often. and you were very upset about that.

the next morning, like jj promised, he was at the chateau waiting for you. as you flicked the kickstand down on your bicycle, he was already outside waiting to greet you with a hug and a kiss.

“hi my pretty girl.” he said, enveloping you in his arms and pressing a kiss to your temple. “how was your night last night? i’m sorry i had’ta bail.”

you forced a grin, although you really did feel better in his presence. “it was fine.”

he cradled your face in his hands, giving you a soft and loving kiss. for the rest of the day as you lazed around on the couch with all of your friends, he kept you on his lap and didn’t even let you out of his sight.

you thought that, maybe, the few times this had happened before were all just flukes.

until, a few mornings after he had been staying with you for a couple of days, you awoke to an empty bed.

maybe he was making you breakfast! you had hoped. but, when you opened your phone to check the time, the first notification you got was from him.

jj: the weather is too good today, so i’m out fishing with john b and pope. sorry i know you hate to wake up alone but they picked me up early. aiming for a catch thats as big as my 🍆😛

jj: i love you

you couldn’t even chuckle at his little innuendo.

you: ❤️

“what’s the matter?” kiara questioned, braiding your hair as you sat criss cross on her bed.

you and the girls had a sleepover last night at kie’s house, which helped you forget about your annoyance at jj. but, now that it was morning, and y’all were planning to meet up the guys on the boat for the day, you felt upset and almost dreaded seeing him.

you sighed, picking at a loose thread on a pillow. “it’s just jj being jj.” you mumbled.

“what does that mean?” sarah asked, quirking a brow as she rubbed sunscreen into her skin.

“he… he keeps blowing me off to hang out with the guys. and i really don’t think it’s intentional, but it just makes me upset.”

“sounds like classic rude boy.” cleo commented, throwing and catching a hackey sack in the air.

“that’s why i’m trying not to take it personally, but…”

“it’s hard not to.” sarah finished with a sympathetic smile. you nodded in agreement.

“listen,” kie said as she tied off your braid. “jj, god bless him, is pretty oblivious sometimes. but i’m sure if you just tell him that it’s really bothering you, then he’ll stop. right now he probably doesn’t even know it’s making you upset.”

“you’re right.” you nodded, smiling as you felt the french braid in your hair. “thanks.”

you lay tanning on the bow of the boat, jj’s head resting on your stomach as you threaded your fingers through his damp hair. he practically was purring like a cat.

“mmmm right there.”

you giggled. “hey, jay?”

he hummed in acknowledgment.

“do you maybe wanna eat at the wreck tonight? just you n me? i feel like we haven’t had a date in forever.”

he grabbed your hand, pressing his lips to it multiple times. “sure.” he flipped around so he rested his chin on your stomach, looking at you in admiration. he snaked his hand up to your bikini strap, fiddling with it before letting it snap back against your skin.

“hey!” you protested playfully.

he chuckled, rolling over, and leaping to do a backflip off the edge of the boat.

later that evening, your legs and feet were intertwined underneath the table as you and jj dined on some diet cokes and french fries.

the conversation was light and playful, but you could feel your heart rate speed up a bit as you came closer to bringing your frustration up.

it’s not like the two of you hadn’t argued before, but you didn’t like making him upset any more than he liked making you upset.

you took in a breath as you watched him swipe mindlessly on his phone.

“so, i was thinking-“

“wait up, hold that thought for a sec y/n.”

you pressed your lips together, frowning. jj suddenly burst out laughing with excitement and glee.

“w-what is it?” you asked.

he turned his phone around to show you. “chud is playing right now! pope’s got it on his tv, and like, it never plays anymore. the bastard won’t record it so imma head over to his place. you wanna come?”

you side, dejected. you felt completely and utterly unwanted.

you waved a hand in dismissal as you glued your eyes to your french fries, swirling one around his ketchup. “no, it’s alright. i think i’m actually just going to go home.”

you were met with a look of surprise from him. “you sure? want me to drive you? i-“

“no it’s not a problem.” you cut in, standing up. “you go hang out with your friends, and i’ll go home alone.” you stated, hoping that would give him a hint about how you were feeling.

“uhhhh. okay?”

you huffed, shoving a hand in your wallet and throwing a twenty dollar bill on the table before walking out. you spent the night crying, and ignoring jj’s messages.

as you and the rest of the pogues were chilling at the chateau, you were actively avoiding jj. you knew he didn’t deserve it (well, maybe a little) and god bless his heart he was probably so confused, but you just didn’t know how to deal with the hurt.

he was blowing you off. he was ditching you. so now you were pulling away from him, too.

you swung on the hammock while jj was waxing his board, chatting pope’s ear off.

he stared at you longingly.

“i just don’t know what i did, man.” he sighed.

“well, it’s y/n.” pope explained logically. “she wouldn’t just be ignoring you for nothing.”

he groaned. “i need a beer.”

“hey, no. wait-“ pope said grabbing jj’s bicep thoughtfully. “you’ve been drinking, or just hanging out, with me and john b more often than normal. like, without y/n.”

“yeah… so?” jj asked, his mind blank.

“and is she okay with that? like, when i picked you up from her place to go fishing, did you double check with her?”

“… no.”

“and when i told you chud was on the tv… i knew y’all were hanging out!” he palmed his forehead. “that one’s on me, man.”

“shit.” jj whispered. “dude, i’ve totally been blowing her off!”

“well then no wonder she’s upset.”

“ughhh.” jj groaned, sweeping an anxious hand through his hair. “fuck!”

“it’s alright man.” pope comforted. “you can figure this out.”

jj sighed, bracing his arms on either side of his board, his head hanging dejectedly before raising to look at you on the hammock.

“i’m just… so comfortable with her. i know she’ll always be there for me. so i guess i don’t even think twice before bailing on her cuz i know she’ll be there when i get back.” he mumbled.

“well.” pope said, clapping jj on his back. “don’t tell me that, man. tell her.”

you were chilling in your room, scrolling mindlessly on your phone when you got a text message from pope.

pope: i know this is random but look out your window

your face scrunched in confusion. “the hell?” you muttered to yourself, getting of your bed and going to your window.

outside, standing in front of his motorcycle, was your boyfriend. he was holding a sign, a piece of paper with his messy handwriting on it.

it read: y/n l/n will you please talk to me

you couldn’t help the way your heart fluttered, or the butterflies that erupted in your stomach.

you bit your lip to suppress the wide grin threatening to take over you features of you opened the window.

“y/n.” jj said. “i’m an idiot.”

you smiled cheekily.

“please, please, please forgive me. look, get into one of those cute ass sundresses of yours, and come out here. i have a surprise to make it up to you.”

you changed, and clung on to jj as he sped through the outer banks.

in a little alcove on the beach was a picnic blanket with a box of pizza nestled on top.

“jj…” you whispered in awe.

“that’s not all.” he said, guiding you with a hand on his lower back.

he whipped out some wild flowers from his pocket.

“where did you get those?” you asked, delighted, gratefully accepting them.

“from your backyard.” he smiled sheepishly.

“i love you.” you said softly.

“does this mean you forgive me?” he questioned, both of you guys sitting down across from one another.

you nodded, interlacing your hands together. “just… explain?”

he opened the pizza box. “well, y/n, you’re the love of my life. the only girl i’ve ever loved, really. ‘n you know how hard it is for me to open up, but you… you’ve always been there for me. for the first time in my life, i have someone who i know isn’t going to abandon me. of course i have the pogues, but they aren’t in love with me, ya know?”

you nodded, tears filling your eyes.

“no… please don’t cry.” he cooed, wiping them away.

“i-i know.” you nodded, sniffling. “it’s just been a hard couple’a weeks.”

he kissed away your tears, mumbling a “lemme make it up to you.”

you smiled, nodding your head.

he laid you down against the red checkered blanket, you hair fanning around you like a halo and he scrunched up your sundress til it bunched up at your hips.

trailing hot kisses up your thighs, you shuddered, hands holding onto his shoulders. maybe it had only been two days without him, but you missed him like crazy.

as he buried his face into your thighs, he whispered and praised you with sweet nothings as your hands flew to grip his hair.

“you’re so so so beautiful.”

“i love you so fuckin much.”

“my baby deserves to feel sooo good.”

“i would give up anything for you, mama. anything. just wanna make you happy.”

your back arched, nearing your release as his tongue worked magic on your pussy. you tried to hold in your whimpers and your moans, being that you were in public.

this caused your hips to buck wildly, his forearm coming down against your stomach to keep them still.

“let it out, y/n. needa hear it.” he mumbled before attaching his lips to your core again.

without, you let out a mewl as you came.

he crawled up your body, peppering kisses and shimmying your underwear back up and fixing your dress.

you kissed, sighing with lust and contentment. he tucked a flower behind your ear and held you pressed up against his chest as y’all ate the pizza. and all was forgiven <3

[the-silver-peahen-residence]

"I'm sure Megumi is not angry or anything. Maybe worried but he's not mad!" Yuji tries to calm him down but he looks at him.

Kisho pauses. "Wait…what do you mean the burnt circle is moving or expanding?" He quickly drinks the entire small coffee pot in one swallow and heads outside. "That shouldn't have happened! Nowhere in the books says that."

"I don't know. They said it started doing that after but-Hey wait a second!" Yuji follows him worried to the outside.

~~~~~Outside~~~~

Some of the students even Gojo was there but they were seeing the teachers working on breaking the circle only to see it still remain.

"Do you think something happened or enhanced it?" Hana asked even with her shinigami feeling uneasy near that. However, Miko didn't know. She just sighed hoping it was nothing.

"So let me get this straight...it did what again?" Principle Yaga asked Gojo and Nanami who was looking at him.

"Well, judging from what we got it seems this circle is sealed off or is connected to some of Kisho's cursed energy. Or maybe it took some from him? We still need to examine it a bit more to know for sure.....though, it might have grown a few inches from last night." he said.

"But how though!? It was just a scorched circle in the ground! How is that even possible!?"

"I don't know! We are still looking into it. What does the book say?" He saw Gojo looking through it but he whistles seeing some.

"Wow..some of these spells are pretty deadly. You really have to be careful when reading these out..." he said. "Huh, theirs even some that can even separate curses from someone too.." he said.

"GOJO!"

"Oh right sorry. Well, it's true this scorched circle is cursed now though it seems like now it's expanding with each bit of cursed energy it takes in. Maybe some curse spirits got in or it's taking any from the students. That explains why some that tried to exorcist it only got weak and the circle grew a bit..." he points out.

Miko, Hana, Megumi, Nobara, Maki, Yuta, and some others got worried hearing this. Though, who could have guessed that.

"So..it's both cursed or is the spell alive?" Megumi asked.

"..To say in short, we don't know. If it's taking cursed energy from others..it might as well be alive...even with the burn it looks more liquid like now...."

"But how do we know it really is alive? It just takes whatever curse source is near?" Mi-sun asked worried.

"It must be.....so if I did this..." he held up his hand to show some cursed energy flowing around. As soon as it did, the circle was starting to glow with something starting to absorb it quickly taking some. Gojo blinks seeing this but lowers his hand.

"Woah I even felt that.....it really is alive!" he said with hands on his face.

"This is NOT the time for jokes Gojo! We need to contact Yukio or Rin to find out more about this spell.....right now, we don't know what this curse spell can do.." Nanami said.

"Wellllll..from what we just saw, I have a feeling if it expands more and more to the barrier, it might end up taking that in and getting out into town, taking any curse it finds. Or expanding till it gets out to wide areas. Like the sister school, Tokyo, Japan, and even outer than that." Gojo said. "it's almost like it will eat and eat and eat and eat till it takes over everything.....or maybe it's some sort of deadly virus?" he asked.

"To be fair! I didn't know it could do something like that." Kisho quickly explains with his hands up, "I am studying and drawing magic circles that are for protection, not blowing things up. Although…I was experimenting with magic circles that acts as booby traps for combating against curses!" Kisho explains to Yuji.

"Which is fair. I can understand that even if it's a powerful spell. It even caused a giant dust cloud after it exploded." Yuji said to him. He knew the smoke dies down but the circle still shows the burn lines. THough something about it felt off.

"I was just taking a page from the exorcist's playbook!" Kisho explains before slumping his shoulders. But then he blinks. "Hey…Yuuji." He begins to chuckle, "Say…does Fushgiuro know about this?"

".......yeah, he knows..he's with the teachers outside right now trying to figure out what is going on with that burn circle. However, not many can get near it....something about the burn circle is moving or expanding?"

[galaxywhump]

i would love to see daniel making what he feels like is a mistake with wren (similar to how he fucked up with wren getting attacked by the local wildlife in the beginning of the story). like he pushes wren too far without realizing it, or hurts him in a way he didn't intend to (like rope failure during suspension bondage). love to see wren suffering and i also love to see daniel feeling guilty so like. best of both worlds lol

[SV-240 masterlist]

contents: slavery whump, forced relationship, creepy/intimate whumper, defiant whumpee, suspension, dislocation.

~~~

“Uh, could you… check the ropes again? Something’s weird about the balance.”

“I know what I’m doing, sweetheart.”

“But-”

“Just trust me. Besides, just a few more pictures and we’ll be done, okay?”

Daniel snaps a picture. One of the knots in the elaborate ropework keeping Wren suspended snaps too.

It happens in a blink of an eye. Wren becomes certain that something is wrong with Daniel’s handiwork, that it wasn’t just his imagination, and in the next moment his body jolts downwards. If that was the end of it, it wouldn’t be bad - he’d just be a bit startled, he’d get to savor Daniel being proven wrong, but, unfortunately, he mostly did know what he was doing.

Wren’s right arm was still secured with rope, and when he shifted, it stayed in exactly the same position.

He sees stars. His scream of agony comes out as a strained gasp. His shoulder is on fire.

Daniel curses, sets his camera aside and rushes to start painstakingly undoing the knots while Wren hyperventilates, eyes wide, forehead lined with cold sweat.

"I told you!" he chokes out, close to sobbing. "I fucking told you and you didn't- Why the fuck didn't you believe me?!"

Daniel doesn't answer, focused on untying the ropes; Wren's shaky breathing is the only sound. When he's finally freed, the pain only gets worse when his shoulder shifts, and he can't stop tears from falling from his eyes. It hurts so much, a completely new pain. Daniel cradles him in his arms, petting his hair, and the look of remorse on his face is nowhere near as satisfying as it would be if Wren could think more clearly.

"I'm sorry," Daniel says, carefully laying his hand on Wren's injured shoulder, making him tense up and gasp. "Next time I'll make sure the ropes are secure."

"Next time?!" Wren cries. “My shoulder is-”

"I know, I know. And… I need to set it, so be still. Just trust me."

"Again?! You just fucking showed me why-"

Once again, he doesn't get to finish his sentence - with practiced confidence Daniel grabs his arm, lifts it up, and pulls, and Wren howls in agony feeling it pop back into place.

“Okay, okay, it’s okay now,” Daniel whispers, holding Wren close as he struggles to breathe. “You can rest.” He sighs, then the corners of his mouth rise in a playful smirk. “First that animal, now this. I guess I’ll just ask Berkeley to bring me some new rope next time so there’s no more accidents, hm? I really am sorry, though. I’ve learned my lesson.”

“You didn’t learn shit,” Wren rasps, somehow mustering enough strength and clarity to glare at Daniel, who, much to his fury, laughs.

“See how quickly you bounce back? You’re stronger than you realize, sweetheart.”

Wren presses his lips tightly together and shakes his head. He’s not strong enough to fight back in a way that matters, not strong enough to escape. At the moment his strength seems completely meaningless to him, and he’s so tired of staying strong this way when Daniel only seems to find delight in it.

~~~

taglist: @faewhump @inky-whump @whole-and-apart-and-between @whatwasmyprevioususername @procrastinatingsab

@funky-little-glitter-bomb @goneuntil @redstainedsocks @luminouswhump @lonesome--hunter

@as-a-matter-of-whump @renkocchi @whump-only @muddy-swamp-bitch @girlwithacoolcat

@watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees @sophierose002 @whump-headspace @to-whump-or-not-to-whump-blog @kixngiggles

@ohwhumpydays @whumpsical @wibbly-wobbly-whump @stab-the-son-of-a @his-unspoken-words

@pumpkin-spice-whump @onlyhappywhenitpains @suspicious-whumping-egg @morning-star-whump @burtlederp

@there-will-always-be-blood @springwhump

[yardsards]

i needed to express a sentiment in the creative stylings of @dunmeshiminimumwage

[deus-ex-mona]

farewell, my idiot son…

[toastingpencils37]

Bro, the heaters at my school are fucked up.

Yesterday, apparently at the beginning of the day in one of the buildings, the AC on one side was 60 degrees, whereas the other side was at 80 degrees. (I don't have classes in that building during that part of the day)

So they turned off the AC on the hot side. But then around the time 5th period started (my class period in that building), the AC on the other side went up to 80 degrees, so my teacher had to turn it off. And the principle even came to talk to my teacher about it briefly during class.

The AC in that class was apparently still at 80 degrees some point today as well.

And then in my brother's math class yesterday, the AC was really cold. But then today it was really warm.

So yeah. AC's fucked up.

[mirmidones]

the urge to do something you don't care about nor necessarily like JUST to prove someone wrong. whenever someone tells me "that's not possible" i start biting and drooling and snarling and snap snap snapping my teeth to show that it is, in fact, possible

[osamucide]

⊹ I AIN'T NOTHIN' BUT A NASTY DOG!

. . . BSD MEN AS OVERUSED PORN PLOTS!

wc: 5.3k

cw: MINORS DNI—explicit sexual content, gn!+afab!reader, a lot of anonymous sex, dirty talk, BIG DICK MEN, probably a good amount of ooc, some questionable dynamics/dubcon that can be read through the lens of roleplay and/or prior consent. character-specific warnings—chuuya: public sex, penetration; dazai: penetration, riding, creampie; kunikida: professor/student, oral (m!receiving); fukuzawa: secretary/boss, office sex, oral (m!receiving), facefucking; atsushi: HEAVY DUBCON WARNING, stuck, perv atsushi, penetration; akutagawa: blackmailing if you squint, degradation, choking, penetration; oda: penetration; ango: public sex, penetration, riding; nikolai: dubcon, home intruder f!masturbation, penetration; sigma: a tiny bit of perv sigma, oral (f!receiving); fyodor: priest!fyodor, religion/blasphemy kink, christianity-specific, oral (m!receiving)

reid: putting my dual major in journalism to work by subtitling these like bad porn videos. little not so thought out drabbles many with no definitive ending just silly whore thoughts. some are more stupid than sexy but either way i hope you enjoy because this was a blast to write HAHAHAHA

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

⊹ CHUUYA NAKAHARA—HOT GYM BUDDIES CAN’T WAIT UNTIL AFTER THEIR WORKOUT TO FUCK!

“Yeah, that’s a lot better. Look at you, you got it,” the pretty redhead mutters, his hands still firmly on your hips as he spots your squat. “Give me one more, I know you can.”

The praise prompts you to draw in a deep breath that has nothing to do with your next squat; anyway, this gorgeous man, kind enough to help you with your form, believes in you. So you bend once more, squatting down, down, and pushing back up—until on your way back up, you feel your legs begin to buckle.

“Woah, woah.” It’s sweet how concerned he sounds as his hands fly up to the bar and his feet nudge you forward to help you replace the weight on the rack, but his hips end up pressed to yours, and you’re gasping. “You okay?”

You’re fine, caged between him and the bar as he leans over your shoulder to glimpse your face that’s flushed from exertion. Only exertion, surely, even though your ass is pressed firmly to his pelvis. He doesn’t seem hard, but you can still feel it, and it feels big.

“Yeah,” you breathe, moving to duck under the bar, but it’s low and you’re feeling a little dizzy, so you teeter backwards into him, and as his hands find your waist again. “Yeah, I’m about to be done anyway.”

“You should really stretch after maxing out like that,” he suggests, turning you around. “Don’t wanna be hurting, do you?”

But you can only look into his intense eyes and shake your head lightly before he’s easing you to the ground on your back, settling each of his knees over one of your thighs, and slotting his shoulder beneath your hamstring. He pushes forward, gently, slowly, looking to you for anything wrong; and there isn’t.

There’s nothing wrong, except for the fact that you can feel his huge dick against your pussy through both of your shorts.

It’s all you need to start moving blindly, reaching down for his waistband, pawing at his neck, mashing his lips to yours, and he doesn’t hesitate to do it back—he lets up on your leg only to slip your shorts off before your ankle is back over his shoulder and he’s grinding the head of his cock into your wetness.

“You gonna let me in, baby?” he pants hotly, looking down at you squirming beneath him. “Yeah, I know you will—you’re strong, you can take it.”

His tip catches on your clit, and you gasp before he’s plunging into you, setting a brutal pace. “Oh, fuck!”

“Oh, fuck, yeah,” he groans. “So fuckin’ tight.”

He hits the inside of you perfectly, his soft ginger hair falling loose from its low pony—you wish you knew his name so you could scream it, but you settle for moaning, panting, cussing, as he throws your other leg over his shoulder and drills into you on the gym mat. ⊹

⊹ OSAMU DAZAI—MY OLDER BROTHER ALMOST CAUGHT ME FUCKING HIS BEST FRIEND!

“Shit—I’ll be back, gonna go shower this off. Asshole.”

That was what your older brother, Chuuya, grumbled at Dazai before scurrying off to the bathroom. The three of you had just gotten back from getting ice cream, and Dazai had the brilliant idea of snatching Chuuya’s cone from him and sticking it in his hair. Cursing ensued the entire walk home.

And Dazai popped the tail end of his cone in his mouth and grabbed for your wrists as soon as your brother was out of sight, which leads you to now—in the living room, on the couch, bouncing furiously on his cock as he grunts.

“Osamu—be quiet!” you plead with him, but you’re moaning, too.

His lips fall into a grin. “Don’t worry, cutie, I can still hear the shower—fuck! Just keep—keep doing that, you feel so fucking good.”

So you reinforce your grip on his shoulders and slam your hips down to meet his, over and over, drawing sinful sounds from both of your bodies as you’re separated by a single thin wall from your brother—Dazai’s best friend, who would probably murder both of you if he found out you were fucking.

And then the water turns off. You muffle the choked cry you let out into Dazai’s shoulder, so damn frustrated that you won’t get there, not before Chuuya comes back—but Dazai’s flipping you onto your back, grabbing you by your hips, pulling you into him with such fervor that you almost shout.

“Need it, baby, I need to cum in this pussy—”

“Osamu!”

But even you can’t tell if you’re egging him on or warning him to stop—with no sound buffer and Chuuya undoubtedly coming back any minute, your body decides for you that you need it, too, you need to cum and you will, no matter how much your mind protests; your eyes flick nervously up to the hallway when they’re not rolling back from how Dazai’s rearranging your guts.

“He’s gonna come back—unh—and you’re gonna sit here with my cum in you, and he won’t even fuckin’ know.”

He’s digging his nails into your hips and ass, making you twitch, reaching down to rub your clit hard, and when you cum, clenching around him, he shoves his palm over your mouth and spills into you with a last few wet smacks.

Dazai’s scrambling back into his pants as footsteps pad down the hall; he all but throws himself at the other end of the couch as you curl up, dressed but fucked silly, focused on not letting the evidence of what just happened gush out of you and leak onto the couch.

“Fuck was that noise?” Chuuya mumbles, sauntering out as he’s tying his wet hair up.

“Hm? I don’t know, I didn’t hear anything.”

When Chuuya turns toward the kitchen, Dazai tosses you a wink. Your face burns as you feel yourself leaking. ⊹

⊹ DOPPO KUNIKIDA—COLLEGE HOTTIE SUCKS DICK FOR EXTRA CREDIT!

"You do realize I'm going to have to fail you," your professor informs you, looking into your eyes with a little regret. Truthfully, you've always been personable in class and shown promise as a student, and he's disappointed. Not in you, just in your poor academic performance during your final semester.

"There has to be something I can do to make up for it," you nearly plead, hands clasped together on the edge of his desk as you look to him with hope. You know you've been slacking, but you need this class to graduate.

"I don't know—" He sighs your name, clearly confliced. Your attendance record is less than impressive these days, and Kunikida's enforced a strict class participation policy throughout his years of teaching—as well as no extra credit—something he makes clear to all of his students in all of his classes, and you especially should know better after taking his classes for four years. "I don't know. Like what?" Maybe you can do a few credits in the summer and still walk at graduation, or pick up an internship. But he wants you to take the initiative and accountability.

He doesn't really know how to protest when you're slipping out of your seat and sinking to your knees as a spark starts to gleam in your eyes. You rattle off a few academic ideas for posterity, but ultimately find your hands sliding up his thighs and fiddling with his belt.

Fuck it, you think, you'll be out of here soon enough. Plus, Kunikida's always been kind, compassionate, understanding, and sexy—too invested in his field to even notice that handfuls of students on campus would throw themselves at him given the chance. Maybe he'll finally understand, you muse to yourself, as you work his hardening cock out of his dress pants.

He chokes out your name when you take his length in both of your hands; he's all the way gone when you're swirling your tongue over his tip, giving in to your little idea for extra credit sooner than he'd ever admit to himself.

"Oh, fuck—" He's staring up at the ceiling of his office in pure bliss because his student is working hot, sloppy kisses down the underside of his cock. His hands twist into your hair, and you gaze up at him, doe-eyed, as his head falls forward and he looks at you through his glasses. "Keep going. Don't fucking stop."

He's trying not to thrust into your mouth when you fondle his balls; his pretty blond bangs are dampening with sweat, and you can't take your eyes off him as you bob your head faster, hollowing your cheeks around him and moaning at the taste of your professor's cock heavy in your mouth. He twitches and jumps at your attention to detail—your fingers raking tracks down his thighs, your frantic tongue, your fluttering lashes and sugary moans, gags, and slurps that are music to him.

You know, as he falls apart more and more by the second, you won't have to worry about this class anymore.

"Unh—uh, yes, oh, fuck, we'll work something out, yeah, gorgeous? Just don't stop—d—don't stop, don't fucking stop, I'm gonna cum down that pretty throat, yeah, and we'll get it all figured out." ⊹

⊹ YUKICHI FUKUZAWA—NAUGHTY SECRETARY SEDUCES HOT BOSS!

You're perched on his desk when he returns from the meeting—Yukichi, your boss, who, lately, you can't stop thinking about climbling like a tree. You're sure your coworkers see it, too, but you're his personal assistant; no one gets to be as close to him as you, and he trusts you.

Which is why you'll put the moves on him today.

He runs a hand through his silver hair—obviously stressed—sighing as he pulls his office door shut and turns to you. He speaks your name, holds a few papers in your direction, begins instructing you on what he needs from you next.

But you know better what he needs. The papers that make their way into your hands are quickly forgotten about on his desk as you uncross your legs and hop down, sauntering up to place on hand on his arm, the other on his chest.

"Sir, you look so tense. Are you sure there isn't anything else I can do?"

He makes his way to sit down in his office chair, disregarding your touch in a way that has you following after him like a puppy in need of attention.

He doesn't answer, but he also doesn't protest when you settle between his knees beneath his desk and push his yukata and haori up to pool around his hips. His dick is thick and veiny, even soft; when you spit in your hand and begin to work him up and down his mouth falls open with a sigh, and he grows at least two inches as he hardens beneath your grip.

You didn't think you'd be able to fit his absolute monster cock in your mouth, but you find yourself, throat open, with your nose pressed to his happy trail as you swirl your tongue and breathe through your nose frantically; he holds your face down, speaking very little but making up for it with the way he grunts hotly in that deep, rough voice as he bucks into the back of your throat.

"Unh—ugh..."

You breathe through your nose as his hips fall into a brutal pace; his hands on either side of your head keep you pinned in place as he uses you, takes his stress out on you. Your fingers massage his balls, and you can't help the way you hum around him when he twitches in your mouth.

Yukichi pulls out of your jaw and you gasp for air, wiping the spit that drips down your chin with the back of your hand, but he's not done. When he does speak, it's demanding, low, and it makes your cunt throb with need.

"Get up. Get up, sit on the desk. 'Need to fuck you."

You do as you’re told, open up for him with no hesitation, smiling as he works his fat cock into you—yeah, his stress will be gone in no time with the way he fucks your hole so hard and fast that you shake with each creak of his desk. ⊹

⊹ ATSUSHI NAKAJIMA—STUCK IN THE ELEVATOR WITH MY SEXY NEIGHBOR!

"Ah! Atsushi, open the door!"

"Um," he frets, punching the button until he's sure it'll break. If it's not broken already. "I—I can't, it's not working!"

Not working? Is he fucking serious? You're trapped in the door—all you did was try to reach back out for your bag you'd set by the elevator and now you're stuck, by the waist, between the two sliding maneuvers, your bag dangling from your hands.

"It's supposed to have a sensor! It's not supposed to even close when someone's on the threshold!" you cry through your teeth as you try to squirm out. Atsushi's mind is already working, though, over the way you're pinned in half, wiggling your ass as you struggle against the industrial strength of the elevator door. "Atsushi, help me, please call someone or something—"

But his hands are on your hips, pulling backward, and you can't help the noise of surprise that slips out of you.

"Atsu', I seriously don't think that will work, please, just call—Atsushi!"

His hands shake as he slides your pants and underwear down your thighs, exposing your ass; he tunes out your protesting as he undoes his belt. You hear the clink of it hitting the ground, you feel his fingers dipping into your cunt from behind, and he cannot be fucking serious.

"I'm sorry," he cries like it's out of his control—he feels like it is. "I'm sorry, you're so hot, you're right here, I've wanted this for so long."

And you feel yourself beginning to drip at his desperate tone. You can't fucking believe it—this is depraved. This is some shit you would've never expected from the sweet, cute boy in the apartment across the hall who helped you drag your bedframe and couch from this very elevator to your room but here he is, prodding at you with his pathetically leaky cock while you're stuck in the damn elevator door.

And you'd be frustrated with how your body reacts, but as he slides his dick along your cunt, drenching himself in your wetness, you can't help but arch back into his touch.

"Atsushi, you have to fuck me, please."

And he does, fast and unpracticed—he whimpers for you, tells you you're all he thinks about when he jerks off; he confesses that he looks through his peephole when he knows you're leaving for work or school just to get at least one glimpse of you everyday to fuel his imagination, and you gush around him, the pain of the door trapping you falling irrelevant, drifting out of your mind, as he buries his face in your shoulder and humps into you like an animal, pounding against your cervix.

"Fuck, that's right, so good, so, so good—better than I could've imagined—agh, fuck, that's right, take it all, take it, take it, take it...!" ⊹

⊹ RYUUNOSUKE AKUTAGAWA—HOT BABE HAS NO MONEY, LETS THE DELIVERY BOY DESTROY THAT PUSSY!

You rifle through your wallet and hum when you come up short. "Um, I... know you said you don't have a card reader, but I don't have enough cash."

The delivery boy looks at you with little more than boredom until you invite him in.

"Here, let me look in my room—I might have more stashed somehwere..."

He stands over you, searching you with his curious gray eyes as you dig through a drawer, a bag, another bag, only to come up short again. You even peek under your mattress for good measure, but you're just out. You turn to him sheepishly.

"I, uh... I don't have enough, I'm really sorry."

"Well, I can't leave without some form of payment," he deadpans, and you try to think of something, anything—you have a few giftcards for other delivery services, some jewelry—but he's letting his bag fall off his shoulder and grabbing you by the hips before you can register what he means.

You end up face down, ass up on your bed as a compromise, his hips rutting into you from behind as he holds your wrists behind your back. Ryuunosuke his name tag read—you're quick to adopt a way around that mouthful, moaning out, "Ryuu, Ryuu, please!" as he splits you open and calls you a whore.

"Fuckin' slut—"

When you're able to glance back for a second you can see his pretty black hair swaying with each rough thrust, and you're sure he's hitting your lungs—he's so fucking deep inside you, and you're gasping, moaning for more.

"—so eager to—unh—take this dick. Probably hiding your cash somewhere."

But whether you are or not doesn't matter; your eyes are rolling back to the hard smack of his hips against your ass and the white-hot pleasure that rolls through you every time he plows straight into your g-spot, and he's throbbing inside of you at the way your cunt grips him. Your pizza's getting cold on the counter in your kitchen, but you don't care—not when he bunches his fingers up in your hair to arch you back up to him so he can wrap his other hand around your throat.

You hold onto him as he bends you, pulling air down into your lungs when you can, and his gravelly voice barrages you with more words that make you gush around his cock.

"Gonna let me cum in this pussy so you don't have to fork over a few bucks for a pizza? Pathetic."

His teeth sink into your shoulder, his other hand reaches down to torture your neglected clit, and you're sure he's gonna break you over this, your hot delivery boy who just so happened to have the idea to fill you up as payment. You pant his name desperately between thunderous moans—you're gonna cum soon. ⊹

⊹ SAKUNOSUKE ODA—THIS PLUMBER FIXED MORE THAN JUST MY PIPES!

"Okay, that should do it." The man stands up, back to a height at which he towers over you, and you lean on the doorframe to the kitchen as he shuts the cabinets beneath your sink. "It's all movin' again."

You were in your robe when you answered the door, but you'd be lying if you said you didn't run to the bathroom to fix your hair and swipe on a little lip balm while he was working. Really, you hadn't meant to try to fuck the plumber. But this man was gorgeous, with his auburn hair, stubble-lined jaw, large hands, broad shoulders. You felt your eyes widen when you first laid eyes on him, and now you'd been throbbing thinking about what those thick fingers could do other than plumbing.

You pull your robe tighter around yourself, hoping to subtly accentuate the outline of your body. "Thank you so much, really, I don't know what I'd have done without the sink."

"Probably used the dishwasher a lot more," he cracked dryly, and your previous words suddenly feel stupid, but it only serves to make him hotter.

"How should I pay you?" You stride over to him. "Cash?"

"You can just pay online." He looks tired, but he has a well-meaning smile on his face.

You look a little incredulous. "Really? I can't—do you accept tips? Seriously, top notch work and super quick. I can't not thank you."

"I'm really not supposed to take tips," he drawls, running a hand through his hair. You find yourself biting your lip; you can't look away from him. You must look like a rabid animal right now, but you can't help it.

He doesn't tear his eyes away from yours.

"I mean, unless..."

Those three words are what find you on your back in your bedroom with your robe thrown open, the sweet and efficient plumber named Sakunosuke standing at the edge as he impales you on his cock. He worked you open with those fingers first, fast and harsh, just how you begged him to, but nothing could've prepared your weeping hole for the stretch of his fat dick—and now he's pounding into you, his hands clutching your waist as you hold your legs open for him to thrust deeper, deeper.

“Oh, shit. Unh—so wet—“

His groans come from his chest, deliciously—he looks a little like he knows he shouldn't be doing this, but your cunt is sucking him in like it was what he was supposed to come here for all along. You spasm and clench around him and he throws his head back, your whole body rippling as his strong hips and heavy balls smack lewdly against your ass with each thrust.

“Mmph—fuck—break that sink of yours more often, alright?” ⊹

⊹ ANGO SAKAGUCHI—I JOINED THE MILE HIGH CLUB (EXTREMELY RISKY)!

The man you met in the airport bar—oh, he’s pretty.

He's even prettier in your mind when the pilot announces phone permissions now that you're in the air, and the first notification your phone receieves is from him.

I have an open seat next to me in first class. Come visit.

You don't hesitate for a moment. You stride forward from the economy section, past the flight attendants who protest at you flimsily to search for his seat number—you see his unmistakably gorgeous hair, his glasses, his sharp side profile as he speaks to an attendant, catches you in his peripheral, and then shoos her away.

There's hardly niceties before one of your legs is slung over his knee and he kisses you with fervor. You don't think too hard about the people around you—none of whom can actually see you but without a doubt will know exactly what's happening in a few minutes—as you grind down onto his thigh, bite his lips, draw soft gasps from him when your knee nudges his bulge.

Before you know it, his cock is free and he slides your underwear to the side so you can sink onto him; he groans shamelessly when your wet heat envelops him completely, causing heads to turn in your direction, but you just brace your knees against the airplane seat and your hands on his shoulders make quick work of milking him of everything he has.

He kisses you, hot, heavy; he smells good, he smells expensive, and you tear his dress shirt open to rake your nails down his chest as he grabs your hips, letting his head fall back and a full-bodied moan into the cramped air of the plane as he does so. You lift up to let him thrust, let lewd smacks resonate throughout first class, and with your chest in his face he rides your shirt up to latch his teeth to one of your nipples; you echo him, moaning unabashedly, running your hands through your hair, gripping him as people look on.

"Fuuuck, yeah, feels so good," he praises from beneath you. "Knew I had to fuck you from the second I saw you." His eyebrows draw up in concentration as he looks down at where your bodies meet and continues fucking up into you hard. "Hah—listen to that cunt cry for me. You like being watched, huh? Gonna let me fuck you 'til the plane smells like sex? Huh?"

You nod, messily, desperately, and he quickens his pace ever faster, pulling you back down into a sloppy kiss.

An attendant awkwardly approaches in the aisle, but the gorgeous man who's destroying your insides just holds up a palm, shoos her away again.

"Fuck—so sexy. Keep takin' this dick." ⊹

⊹ NIKOLAI GOGOL—LUCKY INTRUDER GETS TO FUCK HORNY VICTIM!

You're splayed out on your bed, two fingers stuffed deep in your cunt—and he's just surprised you didn't hear him breaking the lock on your front door.

When you meet his eyes, you're so glazed over with pleasure that you barely miss a beat, your gaze only blowing wide when he peers around your bedroom doorway. His snowy white hair, his sharp features—you can't find the sense to be alarmed at this unfamiliar man, the one holding your laptop and—is that your wallet?

Doesn't matter—they're clattering to the ground, another factor here you can't find it in yourself to care about as his gray eyes are locked onto you fucking yourself open on your sheets. The sheen of sweat that covers your skin, your desperate moans as you grind your clit against your palm, the obscene squelching that comes from your wet cunt—they all serve to propel him over to you, prompt him to dig his already-hard cock out of his pants as you just watch, beg him with your stare to come fill you up. You're so lucky he's here, really—you look like you're struggling to get deep enough with your pathetic little fingers; he guesses it's only fair that he repay you for the material goods he's about to rob you of and pawn off on whatever sucker will buy them for cash, right?

"Right? I'll help you out—" He gives his cock a few pumps as he positions himself between your legs, "—looks like you need it, sweetheart."

You can only bite your lip to supress the moan that leaves you as he enters your cunt and lifts your fingers up and out of you by your wrist to swirl his tongue around them, lick them clean. He's huge—even your third and fourth fingers weren't enough to prepare you properly for the burglar’s dick in your needy pussy, so you let out strained combinations of gasps and screams when he starts to drill into you mercilessly. You can't help the way your ankles link behind his back, the way you reach for him—and he smiles wickedly when your eyes roll back.

"You like having a stranger's cock deep in your guts, huh?" he speaks between deep sighs and grunts. You can only babble your incoherent agreement, your laptop and wallet forgotten, the actions of this man forgotten, everything but how desperately you need to squirt all over him forgotten—you reach down and rub your clit, play with your nipples as your mouth is frozen open as you moan, moan for this man who's just broken into your home. "Uh—yeah, you're gonna like takin' all my cum, too, I bet." ⊹

⊹ SIGMA—MASSEUR HELPS HIS SEXY CLIENT RELIEVE STRESS!

"Oh, yeah—right there," you groan softly as the heel of his palm meets the center of your back. You've been looking forward to this full-body massage the whole week, and this man was not disappointing.

He works his way down your back, twisting knots out as he goes—his lithe fingers feel like heaven against you, overworked from hours at your desk hunched over your computer.

But it's a full-body massage, as mentioned before; when his fingers dig into the plush of your asscheeks, you can't help the groan that leaves you.

"That okay?" he inquires; you think you hear a shake in his voice.

"More than okay," you reply, thinking you could fall asleep as he works you into relaxation. You could close your eyes from how good it feels, or you could peek behind you and see his face burning with blush at your sounds. You do the former, but smirk a little at how sweet it is of him to check in.

He checks in again when his hands are inching your underwear down, and you tell him of course, he's the professional.

He's still the professional when he climbs up on the table behind you and buries his flushed face into your cunt. You arch up and back, crooning, as his hands stay massaging you, spreading you apart, kneading your ass with career expertise and plunging his tongue into you with enthusiasm.

"Oh! Oh—feels good," you breathe, grinding back into his face, onto his nose. He laps at you happily, this masseur you've barely looked upon for a total of twenty seconds, but you can't lie to yourself and say you didn't think he was pretty when he led you back to his room; he hums into you, sending you shivering, twitching. "Please, more."

"Mhm," he mumbles, releasing one of your asscheeks to lay back beneath you and insert a long, thin finger into your pussy; you sigh, you settle onto his face, and his tongue speeds up in this new position in a way that rips a high moan from your lungs.

Not hunched, but arched, the stretch feels heavenly on your back in combination with the way he pumps another finger into you; you graciously sit up, throwing your head back, begging, pleading for more until his tongue settles into a tight back-and-forth rhythm over your clit. "Please, please, please—"

You grind against his nose, your moans become more erratic, and you dig a hand into his hair as your hips move in dizzying circles over his head.

"Cum for me?" he asks, muffled by your pussy; you'll ride him until his face is soaked. ⊹

⊹ FYODOR DOSTOEVSKY—CONFESSING MY SINS ENDS IN HUGE CUMSHOT ALL OVER MY FACE!

“And I’ve been terribly, terribly lustful, Father Fyodor,” you say with regret. “It consumes me. I really never used to be like this."

"Temptation lurks everywhere," the priest sympathizes. You can barely see him through the grate, but his soft, forgiving voice sounds close to you. "The Devil and his army are constantly exploiting our vulnerabilities to try and turn us to sin, but worry not, child of Christ; we're human. I'm here to guide you. Continue."

You shift on the wooden seat in the booth, crossing your hands tighter over your lap. "That's really all. It's been very concerning to me. I think about it... I think about it so much."

"About what?" Father Fyodor prompts, and you bristle even more at being asked to elaborate.

"Sex," it barely comes out as more than a whisper. "I can't help it—it's everywhere. It leaves me feeling so... exhausted and frustrated, and the only thing that helps is... Well..."

But you're met with silence. You know he wants you to go on. You're here to confess, after all.

"...touching myself. I do it at least once a day. It's like a burning within me—nothing helps but—but—cumming all over my fingers." Your voice is laced with shame—the throbbing of your cunt as you talk makes you feel all the more guilty, and you can only imagine how he's shaking his head. "That's all. That's all."

"You'll do penance," he says, comfortingly. "When we bring our sins to the Lord and repent he cleanses us of them."

The grate pops out of the window, and you see the the waist of his alb as he speaks his next words.

"You'll take communion, now—" the cinctures around his waist fall undone beneath his hands, and the alb is hiked up to reveal a leaking cock, pretty and pale and bobbing in the air of the confessional. "—and be saved from the flames of perdition.”

"Yes, Father, please. Anything to be saved." But your mouth waters in a way that you know has little to do with your thirst for salvation.

"Take this; eat. This is my body," he recites the scripture as his length reaches through the window; your hands, eager and already on the threshold, accept him willingly. As you wrap your mouth around him, he groans, and it's like seraphim singing their holy, holy, holy.

"That's it—child of God, follower of Christ; I absolve you of your sins," he gasps as his tip hits the back of your throat which was begging for forgiveness moments ago. His hands reach through the window to stroke either side of your face, and then hold you in place to fuck your throat. "The Lord will forgive you for this." ⊹

[sourdeers]

𓄲 ❝HEART BEAT❞

pairing ﹕ katsuki bakugou x reader.

— contents: sleepy katsuki. denki and kirishima are menaces. established relationship. short. — word count ﹕ .5k — a/n: OHMIGOSH FIRST REQUEST !! i i kind of went a little off-track . . . i hope that is okay and i hope you like this ! i also added jirou into the baku-squad b/c that is one of my personal hc’s ! request here.

“what is happening right now?”

”dude . . . he’s, like, asleep. in public.”

you don’t have to open your eyes to know it’s kirishima and denki standing in front of the couch, peering down at you and katsuki. you’d warned the blonde that falling asleep in the common room went against everything he stood for, and increased the risk of people finding out you were together, but he’d shrugged and said he didn't give a damn.

your eyes open just the slightest bit and kirishima flinches, taking a step back. “jesus, y/n!” he exclaims, clutching his chest dramatically. “you can’t scare a guy like that . . .”

”you guys better shut the hell up,” you whisper harshly, narrowing your eyes. you make sure not to move—not to shift too much and wake up your sleeping boyfriend. “if he wakes up and sees you two idiots staring at him, he’ll never take a nap again.”

simultaneously, they raise their hands in defense. 

“sorry, y/n,” denki says. “please, carry on with your . . . nap.”

the two of them share a glance, then snicker, then make their way out of the room. you let your head fall back into place, tucked into the crook of katsuki’s neck, and close your eyes with a sigh.

there’s maybe a minute and a half of silence before you hear giggles in the distance, accompanied by the sound of a camera going off. your eyes shoot open, immediately darting to the stairs, where kirishima, denki, mina, sero, and jiro are crouched down, phones pointed at the couch.

you narrow your eyes once again and furrow your brows. “what are you doing?” you mouth to them, lifting your head to look at them properly.

mina shrugs, a wide grin on her face. “when is the next time we’ll actually catch him lacking, huh?” she raises her brows and nods. “we have to take this loss and use it for our blackmail folder.”

”blackma—“ you start to repeat what she said, but katsuki shifts beside you and everyone freezes. nobody moves, nobody breathes.

katsuki isn’t a scary guy. no matter how the public paints him, no matter how many times he threatens to kill people, no matter how many times he’s accidentally made children cry—he’s not scary. 

however.

he does, in fact, hold a grudge. you ate his leftovers in first year once, and he didn’t talk to you for three months— even when you were his assigned training partner! denki made fun of his “bedtime” once, and the next day, denki had lime green hair.

you lay your head back down, keeping your eyes trained on the band of miscreants sitting on the stairs, and begin softly trailing your fingers across katsuki’s arm. you’re pretty sure you’ve pavlov trained him into falling asleep whenever you tickle his arm.

his breathing evens out again, chest heaving with a big breath, and then he’s fast asleep again. it almost brings a frown to your face because that’s just how tired he is. he’s been working so hard lately—he always had, but third year has been kicking his ass.

”go away,” you whisper to your friends.

surprisingly, they listen. they trail back up the stairs, mumbling to each other about something you can’t hear. you don’t really care though, because your occupied with your boyfriend's heart beating in your ear.

[peachylynnie]

you make him lose his cool

word count: 900-1k per lead synopsis: in which you provoke them, and they love it. (inspired by kiss of life's igloo) contains: fem!reader x lads men (separate, non!mc), established relationship, downbad men, NSFW CONTENT MDNI (i'm talking grinding, oral sex implications, etc), song lyrics, and cursing. a/n: UPDATED WITH CALEB AS OF 2/1/25 i feel hot whenever i listen to this song. i hope you do too while reading. enjoy! do not plagiarize or translate. lads men do NOT endorse plagiarism. reblogs & comments appreciated. lads masterlist | tagged: @vvintqz (ik this is technically the reader teasing xavier but u said to tag u when i write xavier so i hope u enjoy)

caleb

What you heard? (What you heard?) But it's never what you think, trust

it's impossible to surprise caleb.

he always knows what you're up to.

whether you're just waking up from a heavenly two-hour nap or going out to get your hands on the latest edition of your favorite blind box series, he's always there.

last time you tried to cook yourself a meal (ever since you started dating, he hasn't let you lift a finger), he came home early and snatched the spatula away from you, insisting that you sit down and look pretty for him while he makes his signature braised wings.

you're not sure how he does it. maybe he has a secret camera or a tracker installed (ha). though, you don't have any complaints. you think it's fucking hot how he's never away from you.

even so, you've been wanting to surprise him for a while now. blame it on your desire to fluster him as much as he flusters you. you're going to surprise him AT LEAST once in your lifetime.

which explains why you're in an apron right now, with absolutely nothing underneath.

to be honest, you were hoping to surprise him with homemade apple pie since he's always cooking for you. but again, you want to fluster him. thus the apron, a long piece of denim fabric wrapped tightly around your waist and hung dangerously low at your chest. you can't deny how delectable you appeared when you looked in the mirror, admiring your exposed arms, legs, back, and neck—anything that would drive the esteemed colonel insane. you felt jittery just thinking about the look he would have on his face when he walked in through the door of your shared home.

however, your joy is short-lived when your phone rings while you slice up some apples in the kitchen.

"what's with the apron, pipsqueak?"

you put the knife down with a sigh. "do you have a camera installed in here or what?"

caleb chuckles into the phone. "wouldn't you like to know?"

"i would like to know so i can turn the damn thing off and actually surprise you for once, dipshit," you retort playfully as you adjust your phone between your ear and shoulder, picking up the knife to continue chopping. you suppose you should still make the pie since you already got the ingredients out.

"aw," he mocks, his voice dripping with arousal. "did my little pipsqueak dress up just for me?"

"yes," you snap, rolling your eyes. "but this little pipsqueak is about to change since you ruined her surprise."

your threat does little to faze caleb, as evidenced by his endearing laughter.

"don't be upset, pips," he teases into the phone. before you can scoff at his audacity to tell you not to be upset, your ears catch the hurried footsteps in the background of the call. it doesn't take long for you to hope your boyfriend is on his way home—on his way to you. sure enough, his next words cause heat to pool between your bare legs.

"keep the apron on. i'll be home soon."

after he hangs up, you put your phone down with a giggle, eager for what's to unfold once he arrives. however, you still can't help but wonder if he actually has a camera installed because how the fuck does he always know what you're up to? you frown as you turn your head left and right. you don't see any red flashing lights in places that could provide him an optimal view. nope. nothing in the corners of the ceilings and nothing in the walls either. before you can convince yourself your boyfriend is somehow omniscient, you notice something out of the corner of your eye.

his dog tag. seems like he forgot to put it on after putting on his uniform. you pocket it, hoping to give it to him when he gets home.

but your mind is truly one of a kind. as caleb likes to put it, resourceful during the most critical moments.

because when he's balls deep inside of you, coaxing your second orgasm out of you, you get the bright idea to fish your shaky fingers into the pocket of your bunched-up apron and put. it. on.

caleb's eyes widen upon seeing his dog tag on you. there it was, the important item he forgot this morning, resting between the delicious valley of your breasts, bouncing up and down while jingling an enticing melody.

"fuck—pipsqueak, you—" he thrusts harshly, pistoning into your sopping heat. you throw your head back at the sensation, allowing him an even better view of his chain, mingling with the beads of sweat on your collarbone. shit, he's so turned on right now. not only were your swollen, sweet lips adorning his name, but so was your pretty little neck. it filled the young colonel with pride. and enough vigor to bring you to your third release, as evidenced by the endless slamming of his hips and the clenching of your thighs.

"good girl," he helps you through your high before letting go of your waist, hoping to give you a break. "i'll go get a towel. stay here."

but when your pilot of a lover goes to leave, you wrap your legs around him and pull him to you, causing him to collide with you. caleb hisses at the contact, sensitive more than ever.

"don't push it, pipsqueak," he warns as he plants both of his arms on the kitchen counter, caging you in. "you need to rest."

"i don't think so, colonel," you prop yourself on your elbows, meeting his eyes boldly. "i don't think so at all."

caleb swears he feels his mechanical arm short-circuit because what you do next is just fucking tantalizing.

you pinch his dog tag and bring it to your mouth.

his breathing quickens substantially when your teeth take the shiny piece of metal as their prisoner. it's not long before his dog tag is trapped between your seductive canines and your thighs are tightened around his waist.

with a shameless smile, you jut your chin towards the man, signaling to him to make his move.

caleb growls, seizing the chain with both hands and bringing you to his face.

"i warned you, pips."

extra (in honor of his official installment)

as you munch on some apple pie in caleb's embrace on the couch, you can't help but ask.

"how did you know about the apron but not the dog tag?"

your boyfriend sniffs before answering, a little bit of pie still in his mouth.

"i couldn't check the cameras on the way home."

"oh that makes sense."

"…"

"wait, what?!"

sylus

Glass room, perfume, Kodak on that lilac (alright) Slipping on my short dress, know he like that (like that)

there's nothing like getting ready in sylus' bathroom. not because of the sheer size of it (it takes at least a day to explore his residence), but because of how good you look in the mirror right now. you can't help but smile as you step back to get a full look at yourself.

sylus went all out for tonight's auction.

he gifted you a tight-fitting ebony dress, its gorgeous silk straps accentuating your shoulders perfectly. he also gifted you a pair of evening gloves, its velvet fabric wrapping around your arms flawlessly. of course, the dress came with priceless jewels and heels. as you twirl in front of the mirror, the scarlet gems on your ears glimmer, and the cherry kitten heels on your feet click. oh, you look so good, you can kill.

but what seals the deal is the neck accessory he got you.

an intricate, black choker made out of lace. fucking lace. a scoff leaves your mouth when you notice the ruby medallion hanging at the center. his taste is as clear as day.

as you reach behind your neck to clip the choker, the man of the hour walks in. you meet his eyes through the mirror, your hands still at the back of your neck. "sylus."

"miss," he acknowledges in return, an unmistakable smirk appearing on his lips. his eyes trail down your figure. "you look stunning."

"thanks," you giggle as you hook the choker clasp. "you don't look bad yourself."

and you're absolutely right. although he has his usual dress shirt on, his outerwear is completely new. a gorgeous red blazer, adorned with inky brush strokes, sits proudly on his shoulders. moreover, his accessories are new (he's never worn any before). cuffed around his right hand is a sleek platinum watch, spotlighting his forearm deliciously. hanging from his left ear are silver chains, shining unashamedly. you can't help but bite your lips as you admire your lover in the mirror.

yeah, sylus went all out tonight.

catching the hazy look in your glittered eyes, he tilts his head before grinning, "like what you see, sweetie?"

you roll your eyes playfully before returning to the sink. "yes, actually. didn't know you were capable of wearing something other than black."

sylus chuckles as he leans against the wall, arms crossed. "i've worn colors other than black before."

"if you're talking about the two outfits that have the belt around the sleeve," you list nonchalantly as you pick up your lip gloss. "they don't count. they have black on them."

"i'm talking about the red cardigan, sweetie," he counters smoothly, eyeing the lip gloss in your hand.

"ah." you run the wand over your parted lips, enjoying the feeling of gloss on them. "touche," you say, bending over the sink to see if you missed a spot. you do, however, miss the way sylus' fingers tighten around his arms when your dress hikes up. smacking your lips together, you lift the wand to reapply. "but you barely even wear that. so that doesn't count either."

sylus hums, barely paying attention to what you just said. his eyes are transfixed on the wand. he's mesmerized by how it travels across your lips, slathering them with sticky, shimmery syrup, leaving him thirsty for a taste. not to mention the sounds leaving your lips whenever you press them together. sweet, squelching sounds that have him pressing against you in mere seconds, his hands gripping the edge of the sink.

at first, you were taken aback by his sudden proximity. but after feeling something prod at your back, you smile amusingly before placing the wand down. "i'm assuming," you swiftly turn around and wrap your arms around his neck, his eyes widening as you pull him closer. "there's been a change of plans." you slowly lick your lips, collecting some excess gloss. as it drips from the tip of your tongue, you ask with a tilt of your head, "how late are we going to be?"

that's it.

sylus crashes into you, his tongue desperately trying to lap up the excess gloss. his hands haphazardly roam all over your body before lifting you onto the sink, pinning you down as his lips smear your lip gloss everywhere. you moan, trying to match his fervor. the sinful mixing of breaths, saliva, and gloss floods your mind, causing you to wrap your legs around him and bring him closer to you. he welcomes the action, gasping and grinding into you.

by the time he pulls away for air, both of you are left panting like dogs, mouths and chins smothered in sheen.

your eyes never leave sylus' as you wipe your chin, a string of gloss and saliva hanging prettily from your gloved palm. with a groan, he dives into your neck and sinks his teeth into your collarbone. you throw your head back at the pain, whimpering when he soothes the spot with his tongue.

but when sylus traces a finger up your back, you freeze immediately.

why?

oh, because he's unzipping your dress.

"sorry, sweetie," he chuckles into your perfumed skin, savoring your surprised reaction when he drags the zipper all the way down. "we won't be late."

you look at him in confusion, barely processing the silk straps falling off your shoulders.

he leans in and whispers into your ear.

"we won't be going at all."

xavier

Heart attack, IV when I walk the street Vitamins that D, I'm good, I'm healthy

your starlight of a boyfriend collapses onto the bed, his legs hanging off the edge and his pants dangling pathetically from his ankles.

you giggle at the sight, wiping your lips clean of his release. as you rub a drop between your index finger and thumb, you notice the texture's a bit thick, almost like jelly.

"xavier," you call lovingly, rising from your knees and crawling on top of him. he barely responds; his eyes are screwed shut with beads of sweat trailing down his face, neck, chest, legs, everywhere. shit, what did you do to him? he can't get his chest to stop heaving, his mouth to stop watering, and his ears to stop ringing. he can't do anything. not with the way you looked so pretty on top of him, especially after making him release so intensely in your mouth.

"xavier," you repeat as you cradle his face, making his dazed eyes meet yours. "when was the last time you drank water?"

"water?" he pants. "i'm not sure. why do you ask?"

"well," you show him your fingers. he gulps, flushing a deeper shade of red. "this tells me you haven't been drinking enough water."

you get up to retrieve some water from the kitchen. xavier whines at the loss of contact. although he tries to stop you from leaving, you easily slip out of his weak embrace (he literally got his life sucked out of him; cut him some slack). after you reassure him with a kiss on his forehead, you open the door. "i'll be back soon."

he responds with a whimper before closing his eyes. before he knows it, he falls asleep.

not even five minutes have passed when you return to the room, a glass of water in your hand and a packet of vitamins in the other.

"xavier?" after placing the items down on the nightstand, you sit on the bed to admire the view. there he is, sleeping soundly with his shirt unbuttoned and pants unbuckled, his chest slowly rising up and down and his cute nose scrunching every so often. you almost feel bad when you wake him up. almost. as much as you like watching your boyfriend sleep, he needs his water and vitamins, considering how much energy he uses to fight wanderers.

"wake up, xavier," you coo. "you need your vitamins."

he stirs, peeking one eye open to look at you. cute, you think. "i'm too tired, angel." he whines before closing his eye again. "i'll have some later."

"come on," you chuckle. "at least drink some water. you're dehydrated."

hoping to keep him awake, you litter his face with kisses, repeatedly pecking his adorable features. his droopy eyelids, his button nose, his fluffy cheeks, his moist forehead, his small chin—not a single spot is missed.

his little laughs repay your efforts. before you can continue your bombardment of kisses, his arms wrap around your shoulders, successfully pinning you down to him. you're surprised by how quickly he replenished his strength.

"you're trapped," he points out cheekily. "now we can both sleep."

"xavier," it's your turn to whine. "you need to drink some water. besides," you try to get up but fail miserably due to his tight embrace. "you need to scoot up, and i need to lay down properly if we both want to sleep." still no signs of letting you go.

you sigh before poking at your boyfriend's waist, causing him to yelp.

he immediately lets go of you, rubbing the spot you just touched. taking the chance to escape, you stand up and reach for the glass and vitamins.

"meanie," he pouts. "i thought we agreed to not tickle each other for today."

"that's because you try to tickle me all the time," you retort playfully, opening the packet of vitamins. "besides, i only tickle you as a last resort. unlike you, i'm nice." you pop the vitamin in your mouth and bring the glass to your lips.

"as if." he yanks up his pants and crosses his arms. "last time i checked, being nice means letting your boyfriend sleep peacefully," he quips as he turns away from you, hoping his grumpy little act will coax more kisses from you.

instead, a hand comes into his view and grasps the sheets. furrowing his brows, he shifts back to ask what's wrong but is startled to find your face hovering above his. 

"angel, what—"

you press your lips into his, your free hand gripping his chin. on instinct, xavier opens his mouth, expecting your tongue to greet his. however, his eyes widen when he feels something pour in. oh. he greedily swallows the water and vitamin, his fingers weaving into your hair.

you pull away abruptly, a drop of water trickling down the corner of your lips. before he can say anything, you grab the glass of water and drink from it again, your hooded eyes never leaving his. xavier groans at the sight, his chest heaving for the third time today. and it's barely afternoon. oh, you're going to be the death of him.

he's sure of it when you return to his lips, water flowing into his mouth so sensually as his tongue reaches out for more. this time, you rest your entire body on top of him, allowing him to grab at your hips and thrust upward, desperately rubbing against your clothed core and seeking any type of friction that could relieve him of this growing desire you satiated with your mouth less than ten minutes ago. he never wants to drink water alone ever again.

“a-angel,” he moans when you pull away again. “why?” 

“you need more water, xavier.” you tease with a lick of your lips. “gotta make sure my boyfriend is hydrated, ya know?”

with that, you go to stand up and reach for the glass. however, the room spins as xavier pins you down, your positions switched and your wrists restrained above your head. your eyes widen, realizing you might've pushed your boyfriend too far. 

"angel," dark, cerulean eyes burn into you before glancing at the glass. “that's not enough water.”

rafayel

Yeah, white tippy-toe summer, I make him go dumb, duh He doubled down on that text, says that I'm the only one

(heads up, reader doesn't have to be mc but they know about rafayel's identity as the sea god and he calls you his beloved bride)

rafayel isn't sure how he got here.

you, on top of his bare chest, nibbling at his neck and dragging a finger down his clenched abdomen.

"c-cutie," he stammers. "someone might see."

he's not wrong. you're at the beach after all. but it's a private beach, one the artist rented for a date. so really, what's the harm in pinning your boyfriend down in the sand and showing him how much you appreciate him?

"you're the one who said this place was private, raf." you giggle before sinking your teeth into him, eliciting a moan. "besides, we both know why you suggested a date at the beach. don't tell me you forgot." you trail your finger along the waistband of his swim trunks. he jolts, his half-lidded eyes meeting your misty ones.

of course, he didn't forget. but considering the current, scandalous situation he's in right now, his memory is a bit hazy. as you twirl the drawstring with your index finger, rafayel bites his lip and tries to remember how exactly he got here.

last thing he remembers is you excitedly texting him about your package coming in.

a package, pft. no big deal, right?

wrong.

he almost dropped his phone when you sent him a picture of the package, more specifically, you wearing its contents.

a gorgeous two-piece swimsuit in the color of his hair. fuck, lavender has never looked so good on you. the way the tight, skimpy fabric hugged all the right places, making you seem so so malleable. the way you posed in front of the mirror, your face bridling with innocent excitement but your body positioned so so temptingly. shit, he hopes this exhibition ends soon because his slacks feel suffocating all of a sudden.

it wasn't long before he spammed you with a hurricane of texts consisting of flattering emojis and praises about how you're the only one he'll ever love (dramatic but heartwarming) and how he would love to take you on a date at the beach as soon as this stupid exhibition is over so you can swim in your new set to your heart's content (totally not because he wants to see the real thing).

yeah, now he remembers. he got himself into this situation. you even tried to stop him.

"uh," he recalls you hesitating through the call. "aren't you tired from your exhibit?"

"nope," he immediately answers, causing you to raise a brow. "not at all, cutie. i'm in tip-top shape. what better place for us to test your swimsuit than the beach?"

"us?" you repeat amusingly. "since when was testing a swimsuit a two-person thing?"

shit, he got caught.

"raf," you giggle at his silence. "if you want to see me wear this in person, you can always just ask, you know?"

"w-what?! no!" he acts as if you insulted his artwork. "i just thought it'd be a good opportunity for us to go on a date and to test the quality of your swimsuit! what if one day you go into the water and it gets untied or something? what if i'm not there to protect you from prying eyes? you can never be careful enough with swimsuits, especially shipped ones!"

"uh-huh," you drawl skeptically. "i'm sure a triple-knotted bikini will SOMEHOW get untied by the waves."

"come on, cutie," rafayel whines. "i know a perfect, private place! i'll even bring the food, the blankets, everything! please?" (he purposely emphasized "private" because no way in the seven seas is he going to let anyone look at you in a bikini)

you sigh before observing yourself in the mirror once more. the bikini DID look good, and you DID buy it for future swimming dates with rafayel. might as well, right? besides, you can't say no to him, especially when he begs so cutely like that.

"fine, raf," he remembers you giving in with an endearing sigh. "send me the address of the beach once you're done. i'll stop by your place to pack your swimming trunks."

and here you are, resting on top of him and drawing figure eights with your fingertips IN his swimming trunks.

he would laugh at the irony if it weren't for your provocative actions. you were the one who brought him his swimming trunks, and now, you were the one making him wish you didn't bring them so he could see how pretty your fingers looked right next to his—

yeah, he definitely got himself into this situation. he has no one to blame but himself for his predicament. it's his fault he's currently twitching and throbbing underneath you as you breathe into his neck and tease doodles into his thighs.

"oh fuck, cutie—" rafayel jerks his head back when you suck on his adam's apple. your mouth felt so good. you felt so good. 

after pulling back with a 'pop,' you trace the red mark with your free hand, admiring your artwork on your artist of a lover. unfortunately for him (fortunately, really), this causes him to squirm uncontrollably. the simultaneous stimulation from your right hand on his thigh and your left hand on his neck was just too much for the lemurian. he swears he's this close to bursting all over the sand like a messy, wet bubble. 

suddenly, you stop, withdrawing both of your hands from his body. 

"c-cutie?" he lifts his neck to look at you but finds himself confused as to why you're sitting up. though, his confusion is quelled when you reach behind your neck. 

oh. 

your hands come into view, each one tugging on the strings of your top.

oh fuck. 

he doesn't even see your top fall. no. he's completely frozen (and hard) when you lay back down on him, smushing your now-exposed chest into his abdomen, allowing him a view that brings roses to his cheeks. (he can feel your nipples rubbing against him).

"oh, god of the tides," you purr with a smirk as you press your ear into his chest, relishing in his rapid heartbeats. "you promised you would test this swimsuit with me." before he can deny your reminder of his mistake from the earlier call, you grab his hand and bring it to rest against your swimsuit bottoms, causing his breath to hitch. "won't you make good on your promise?" 

rafayel swallows shakily before nodding. 

"anything for my beloved bride." 

zayne

Mm, yeah, I make him lose his cool Yeah, I make him go mmmmmm ah! ah!

doctor zayne, the epitome of calm and control, reduced to this.

a red-faced mess, losing his cool in a rocking chair, thanks to his lover shaving his chin on his lap.

his lover, who just so happens to be wearing a nightgown, a silk, sapphire nightgown with lace ruffles and ribbons that drove the man insane.

to make matters worse (better), your bare thighs were on either side of his hips, caressing and stroking him whenever you would move to shave his chin.

don't even get him started on the fact that you're sitting right on top of his crotch. he prays to any merciful soul out there that you don't feel him growing down there-

he inhales sharply when you reach behind him for a towel, your chest mere millimeters from his face.

"you okay, zayne?" you ask with faux concern.

"yes," he clenches his jaw. it's taking him everything to not dive in and lick, suck, bite—anything to relieve him of this torment. "please hurry."

"hurry?" you pout with a tilt of your head. "but why?" you lift his chin to wipe some excess shaving cream. "do you not want me to shave you?"

"no, darling. it's just—" his hands fly to your waist for stability when you place the towel back in its place. shit, every time you lift yourself onto your knees to reach behind him, the chair moves more and more, resulting in a pattern where when he leans back, you press into him, and when you lean back, he presses into you. it's not helping that this pattern deliciously resembles a certain rhythm in bed.

"it's just?" you repeat to him, stroking his jaw to inspect for stray hairs.

he doesn't say anything. how can he? he can't just spill about how badly he wants to kiss your sweet lips, squeeze at your delectable chest, rip your enticing nightgown apart, and take everything you have to offer. no, he can't. not when you approached him so innocently with a cute smile on your face after he came home, asking if you could shave him. (he almost fell to his knees when he saw what you were wearing). not when you look so beautiful gazing at him from above, handling his skin with addictive yet gentle touches, and glowing underneath the moonlight from the open windows. shaking his head, he grips your waist with renewed resolve.

"it's nothing," he closes his eyes. "please continue." he would rather drink alcohol than misinterpret your innocent intentions.

except there was nothing innocent about your intentions at all. you admit, it's fun to tease zayne like this. the way his lips would chase after your fingers whenever you traced them, the way his eyes would falter whenever you leaned in, the way his breath would hitch whenever you moved your hips, oh it all made you feel wanted. and who could want more than a gorgeous, capable doctor who looks at you as if he's going to die if he can't have you?

you. you want more. you WANT him to have you, take you, right here on this rocking chair. you thought teasing him with a few shifts of your hips and some purposeful closings of distances between his face and yours would relay the message. but no. he's either completely oblivious or has the will of a steel that's been fortified ten times over. because even though he's made it incredibly clear that he wants what you want (his blushing cheeks and shortage of breaths are hard to miss), all he's done is sit there and take your teasing.

you frown, retracting your hand. what's it going to take for doctor zayne, the epitome of calm and control, to give in?

a lightbulb flashes in your head.

"hang on, i missed a spot," you lie, lifting yourself up once more to reach for the shaving cream next to you. "i'll make this quick."

and with that, you slam your hips down.

he groans out loud, eyebrows furrowing and fingers tightening around your hips. he still hasn't opened his eyes though.

"are you sure you're okay, zayne?" you ask innocently, twisting left and right. "i'm worried about you."

"w-why," he starts hoarsely, his fingers gripping for dear life, trying to stop you from moving so damn much. "why would you be worried?"

"oh, i don't know," you smear shaving cream all over his jaw before trailing your fingers down to his neck. "you just seem so…" you slowly trace a heart on his collarbone, eliciting a pretty gasp from him. "out of it."

zayne's eyes jerk open, glaring at you with unprecedented focus. you smile cheekily before pressing yourself deeper into him, eager to bear witness to what he'll do and say since he finally opened his eyes.

though, your smile doesn't last long. in an instant, his hands pin yours behind your back, causing your back to arch and your lips to part.

"i'm starting to think," he secures your wrists in his right hand and brings his left to his face, wiping away the mess you made. "you're doing this on purpose."

you grin. finally. he finally got the message. unable to hide your excitement, you lean in next to his ear and whisper, "what are you going to do about it, doc-tor?"

he inhales sharply, yanking your wrists.

"perhaps," he growls. "it's time you get a taste of your own medicine. prescribed by yours truly."