#i love this thing but it burns my brain sometimes lol
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inklore · 1 year ago
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just want to say sorry for the lack of fics being posted as of late. my brain just cannot focus on my own work right now and have the inspiration to write for myself. the creative itch is there and being implemented within other things at the moment. but let’s hope it doesn’t keep those wips waiting too long. i hope you’re all well, sending you warm loving hugs <3
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mariana-oconnor · 2 years ago
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Types of AO3 Summary
Option 1 - The Excerpt:
The quickest, the easiest! Find a section of your fic that contains the main premise of said fic and also showcases your writing. Copy paste that into the summary box. BOOM! Done.
Best used for any fic, unless it's so short the excerpt would be the whole fic.
Option 2 - The No Frills:
Just a description of the fic. No need for drama. No need to complicate matters. Keep it simple, keep it safe.
Example: "A short character exploration of Blorbo's thoughts after Daisy leaves."
Best used for short fics, poems and fics where the style/format is more important than the plot. Or fics that tie directly into a scene/episode from canon or another fanfic.
Option 3 - The Hook:
Draw the reader's interest by giving them a set up with no conclusion. Introduce the main character(s), introduce the status quo, describe an inciting incident, leave a question in the reader's mind.
Example: "Blorbo is a barista at a coffee shop, struggling to pay their bills, but after handsome rockstar Obrolb walks into their coffee shop they find that they have to decide whether a chance at love is worth the cost of fame."
Best used for mid to long fic where there's a strong premise and follow through. Especially good for AUs. Can be expanded for more complex plots or used multiple times in one summary for multiple characters or subplots.
Option 4 - The Sitcom One-Liner:
"The one in which [over simplified description of one of the main plotlines]" This is essentially 'boil your plot down to the very simplest statement you can, oversimplify if possible. The more bizarre or unhelpful the better.
Example: "The one in which Blorbo learns to like cake".
Best used for fics with at least a little humour in them.
Option 5 - The Rule of Three:
Three is a magic number. Find three key moments in your fic and just list them. That's it. Often ends with 'not necessarily in that order' if used for comic effect. If it's an AU, establish that quickly (i.e. 'Star NHL player Blorbo…').
Example: "Blorbo makes a friend, falls in love, and almost burns to death, not necessarily in that order."
Best used for anything, really. Three is a magic number. The human brain loves things that come in threes.
Option 6 - The Trope Lure:
Why bother describing the plot? We all know AO3 readers are here for the tropes. Similar to The Sitcom One-Liner just using tropes instead of plot. Often followed by the phrase 'that nobody asked for'.
Example: "The Space western / A/B/O / Mail Order Bride fic that nobody asked for."
Often tacked on to the end of The Hook or The Excerpt as a tl;dr.
Best used for fic that plays its tropes straight with no shame or second guessing.
Option 7 - The Pre-emptive Strike:
(Not recommended) You just wrote this fic, the self doubt is consuming you. You feel the need to apologise profusely for your existence for no apparently reason. You feel cringe, you think the fic is cringe, you want everyone to know that you think the fic is cringe in case they don't like it and judge you for it.
Example: "So I fell in love with this pairing and had to write this. It's weird and terrible. Lol! I suck at summaries! Sorry!"
Best used for no fics ever. I cannot stress this enough.
(Seriously, I am begging you, don't do this. If you're planning to use this option, rethink it and do one of the others. I guarantee you more people will want to read your fic.)
Sometimes added on to any other summary as a strange disclaimer. (srsly. don't.)
Option 8 - The Unapology:
Embrace the mayhem, embrace the deep dark depths of your soul. The opposite of The Pre-emptive Strike. A combination of The No Frills and The Trope Lure that truly gives no fucks.
You have committed crimes and you are proud of them. You know what your USP is and you're going to make sure your target market finds you. Look upon my works, ye readers, and despair!
Example: "There aren't enough tentacle fics in this pairing, so I had to write one myself!"
Best used for fics with controversial/polarising tropes with all relevant details already clearly stated in the tags.
Option 9 - The Interrogation:
What if you wrote a summary entirely in questions? What if your readers had to read the fic to discover the answers? Who knows what will happen if you do this?
Example: "What happens when Blorbo McBlorbo gets his wish and Daisy doesn't make it to the plane on time? What happens when Obrolb finds out? How will this change Daisy and Blorbo's friendship?"
Best used for... I honestly don't know. This style of summary does not vibe with me. Mystery fic maybe? Sorry guys.
Option 10 - The Multipack:
Got a bunch of shorter fics in one work? No way of summarising them all without a wall of text larger than the Great Wall of China? This one is similar to The No Frills in that you're not describing the plots themselves and similar to The Trope Lure in that often broader genres and tropes are mentioned. What links those fics? Are they all in the same fandom? The same pairing? The same challenge? Just slap that right in the summary. A chapter list with 1-2 word trope/pairing summaries can be included or not.
Example: "A collection of Blorbo/Daisy/Obrolb fics based on Tumblr prompts. Chapter 1: Regency AU Chapter 2: Werewolves vs vampires Chapter 3: Ghost!Daisy Chapter 4: Space pirates!"
Best used for (obviously) works that are compilations of fic.
Option ? - The Void:
I said The Excerpt was the quickest and easiest summary to do. I lied, well... I didn't exactly lie. What is quicker and easier than not having a summary at all? After all, that's what the tags are for.
Example:
Best used for... nothing? Write a summary, guys. Please?
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slut4thebroken · 1 year ago
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Sweet Dreams
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
Pairing | Tommy Shelby x daughter!reader
Summary | Tommy let’s you try some of his whiskey.
Warnings | Smut, 18+, sexual content, actual incest, technically non con, large age gap (unspecified), breeding/housewife kink, somno, underaged drinking (pretend the legal age is 21 over there lol), kissing, praise, innocence & corruption kink, daddy but not the kink, I want him to take advantage of me so bad😭
Words | 2.4 k
Notes | I shouldn’t even have to say this but this is a work of fiction. Please remember that lmao. Also it’s unspecified but reader is at least 18 so don’t come for me 💀 It’s also unspecified on whether reader is his bio daughter or step daughter so feel free to choose lol.
Ao3 link | <3
Masterlist
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(You can only read this fic if you pinky promise to help me come up with a different title)
You were lying on his chest as he read a story to you, trying to get you to finally fall asleep. But your brain was too awake. When he grabbed his glass from the side table and paused reading to take another sip, you decided to ask him. 
“What’s that, daddy?” You angled your head up to look at his face. 
“It’s whiskey, love.” Your eyes moved between his face and the glass. 
“Can I try some?” You finally asked, making his brows shoot up. 
“This drink isn't for little girls. You’ll have to wait until you’re older.” He chuckled, making you frown. 
“Why can’t I try some now?” You pouted. 
“Because you’re too young, love. Give it a couple years, then I’ll let you have some.” You turned onto your stomach and leaned up to face him better. 
“Please, daddy?” You gave him puppy dog eyes and he stared at you for a moment, then let out a breathy laugh and shook his head. 
“Alright, fine. But just one sip.” You beamed at that and grabbed the glass when he handed it to you. Before tasting it, you decided to sniff it first, noting that it smells like how he sometimes smells. Not able to wait any longer, you took a small sip, then immediately scrunched your face up in disgust. He laughed quietly and you swallowed it, but that only made it worse. 
“It burns!” You whined, coughing lightly. 
“You get used to it, little one.” He said with an amused smile. “Try some more, it should be better this time.” You hesitated, but took another sip. It wasn’t better, it still burned a lot and you could barely take it. “Good girl. Have a little more.” 
“Daddy, it hurts.” 
“I know, love, but if you drink more it’ll stop hurting. Don’t you trust me?” You averted your gaze and bit your lip. After a moment, you brought the glass up to your lips again. “That’s my girl.” He said proudly, making you blush. You coughed again, but he wasn’t wrong, the burn was just barely starting to improve. 
“You’re such a good girl. Drink a little more for me, eh?” You pouted, but nodded and took another sip, this one slightly larger. “There you go… How do you feel, princess?”
“Warm.. n’fuzzy.” That made him laugh quietly. 
“Yeah?” You nodded. “That’s good. Can you do one last thing for daddy?” 
“Mhm.” You could feel yourself getting a little drowsier and you weren’t sure why. 
“Can you finish the rest for me?” You looked at how much was left and whined quietly, but agreed. Figuring it’d be better to get it over with quickly, you chugged the rest, ignoring how much your throat was hurting. “Good girl. You are such a good girl for me, baby.” He took the cup and set it on the side table, along with the book he was reading to you. “Tell me how you feel now.” 
“Mm… sleepy.” You mumbled, making him smile. 
“Don’t try to fight it, love, just go to sleep. It’s past your bedtime anyway.” You let out an incoherent agreement, then laid your head on his chest again, letting him wrap his arm around your shoulders. You weren't so tired that you fell asleep instantly, but you were tired enough where you could barely keep your eyes open. 
Tommy stared down at you as he stroked your hair, soothing you to sleep. You turned more on your stomach and lifted your leg so it was bent and resting over his legs. One of his hands moved down to your bare thigh and rubbed slowly, staying below the hem of your night dress. 
“My sweet girl.” He murmured, kissing the top of your head. You hugged him tighter and he was suddenly very aware of your breasts against his side. “Getting so grown up…” He sighed solemnly. “Thought I told you not to do that? I oughta punish you for disobeying your father.” He suddenly squeezed your thigh and you let out a quiet noise, but didn’t react any other way besides that. 
He kept dragging his hand up and down your thigh, pushing your dress up a little higher each time. For a while, he continued that, waiting until your breathing slowed and you started to fall asleep. He smiled at the sound of your soft snores and brushed your hair away from your face as he looked down at you. Cupping your cheek, he brushed his thumb over your bottom lip— so soft… so kissable. He had to shake his head to get rid of the thought as soon as it appeared. You’re too innocent and pure. He’d never be able to forgive himself if he took that from you. But fuck… 
You smiled a little in your sleep and hugged him tighter, pushing your cunt against his hip as your leg rested on his crotch. He stiffened and bit his lip, trying to control his thoughts and his body. But he couldn’t help it when his hand drifted from your cheek to the strap of your dress. He teased it a little, silently debating if he should… It didn’t take much convincing though. 
Slowly pushing the strap down your arm, he just barely brushed his fingertips on your skin. He continued dragging it down until the nightie was being pulled as well, slowly exposing more of you. He only stopped once it was resting on your waist. 
“Fuck.” He hissed, staring at your young, perky breast and hardened nipple. He lowered his hand so it was holding your hip, then raised the one on your thigh to lightly trace over the soft skin. You just looked so young— so little. Especially when he cupped your breast, completely engulfing it in his hand. He knew that your pussy would be just as little. The thought had him biting his lip to stifle a groan, feeling his cock twitch in his pants under your leg. 
He squeezed and groped you slowly, being extra gentle while he still had the self control to do so. When he moved his attention to your nipple and started rolling it between his fingers, you let out a quiet little sound, just barely audible. 
He placed his palm flat on your chest and slowly snaked it down your body, to the bottom of your dress. Without any hesitation, he snaked his hand back up, taking the fabric with it. He cursed under his breath as more and more of your body was becoming visible.
You were perfect. You looked like innocence personified. When he couldn’t take it anymore, he gently pushed your shoulder to get you to lay on your back, making you whine quietly. 
“I know, sweet girl. It’s okay.” He whispered, kissing your head as he turned on his side to face you. He ran his hand over the soft skin of your tummy and down to your hips, where the plain cotton panties rested. “You’re so beautiful.” He murmured, almost dreamily. As his hand continued to explore your body, he tugged down the other side of your dress, then moved his head closer and gently kissed your nipple. He took it into his mouth, suckling on the hard bud and moaning quietly against you. The only reaction you gave was a soft sound and a small shift of your body. 
“Are you gonna let daddy see your pretty pussy?” His voice was quiet, but thick with arousal. “Shake your head if you don’t want me to.” He chuckled quietly, as he kissed over your breast, just enjoying having his lips on you. When you didn’t respond, he got up and moved between your legs, settling on his stomach between them. Rough hands were placed on your thighs, prying them apart to give himself more room. 
He leaned down and inhaled deeply, savoring your scent. With a low groan, he started mouthing at your cunt, licking and sucking through the panties just to tease himself. Your hips squirmed a little and a quiet moan left you, making his eyes snap up to your face, but you were still fast asleep. After only a few more seconds, he pulled back so he could move your underwear to the side, exposing your glistening cunt. 
“Do you like when daddy touches you like this? Is that why you’re so wet already?” He asked teasingly, not expecting a response. Using his thumbs, he pulled your folds apart, giving him a better view of your untouched pussy. “My perfect little girl…” He sighed, unable to tear his eyes away. 
He moved his thumbs closer and pulled your hole open a little, imagining how it’d look stretched open on his cock. The thought had him grinding against the bed like a fucking teenager. He desperately wanted to force his fat cock inside, split you open and push it in deep. He wanted you to cry and beg him to stop, to tell him how much he was hurting you. 
He wanted to bury his cock in your torn up, used little pussy, press the tip right up against your cervix and fuck you full of his come. He wanted to give you load after load, not stopping until he fucked a baby into you. Even though, realistically, that could never be allowed to happen, he enjoyed picturing you with a round belly, your breasts swollen with milk. He wanted to keep you at home, safe from the world, to raise all of the babies he fucks into you, cook him dinner every night, drain his balls whenever he needs it. 
“Fuck—” He choked out, suddenly getting on his knees between your legs, opening his pants to free his cock. He stroked himself slowly a few times, gaze dragging all over your body. “See what you fucking to do me?” He hissed, slapping his cock on your clit a few times. Practically holding his breath, he dragged the tip through your folds, covering himself in your slick. He held his cock right up against your entrance, breathing heavily and closing his eyes, shaking his head to convince himself not to do it. 
He’d hate himself for the rest of his life… But would that be worth it to feel you stretched past your limit around his cock? 
“No.” He decided, clearing his throat and opening his eyes again. “No. Not— not yet…” He leaned over your body, keeping his length firmly between your cunt and his stomach, then started grinding slowly. He watched your brows scrunch together a little when you felt the constant rubbing on your clit. 
Dragging his gaze over the rest of your face, he finally settled on your lips. He leaned closer, trying to steady his breathing as his eyes grew heavier until they finally shut, only a second before he pressed his lips to yours. You didn’t kiss back— obviously— but he enjoyed feeling your soft lips against his. Growing needier, his hips sped up as he deepened the kiss, licking into your mouth, practically devouring you. 
You let out a muffled sound and started squirming a little, making him pull back. As he panted, he watched your heavy eyes trying to flutter open. 
“Daddy?” You mumbled, voice laced with sleepiness. “What…” You trailed off, unable to get out any other words, and he shushed you softly. 
“Don’t worry, little one. I’m here.. you’re okay.” He murmured, kissing your forehead and cupping your cheek, the movement of his hips never faltering. “Just go back to sleep. You’re safe with daddy.” And you believed him. You stopped trying to open your eyes and relaxed into the bed again. He resumed the kiss, keeping the intensity from before as he pushed his tongue in your mouth and moved his hand from your cheek to your jaw to tilt your head up a little more. 
“Daddy…” You tried to say, voice coming out in a pathetic, muffled whine. He hummed in response, not pulling back to bother with verbally replying. His free hand moved to cup your breast, groping and kneading until you were letting out quiet little sounds into the kiss. You whimpered when he started pinching and pulling on your nipple. 
“Shh… It’s okay, love.” He said softly, only pulling away to speak before immediately diving back into the kiss. His hand strayed from your breast, dragging all over your body, feeling every inch of skin possible. 
He broke away from your lips so he could trail kisses along your jaw, then down your neck. His cock throbbed at the idea of covering you in marks— claiming you so everyone knew who you belonged to. But he knew he couldn’t if he wanted this to happen again. So he continued kissing your skin, inhaling the sweet scent of your perfume. Everything about you was absolutely perfect. 
“I can’t wait to feel your cunt.” He whispered into the crook of your neck, his breathing growing more labored. “You’re such a good little girl, aren’t you? And all mine.” He was rambling as he neared his release, far quicker than he would’ve liked. “All fucking mine. You belong to daddy, eh? These perfect tits,” he suckled on your nipples, quickly and eagerly, “belong to daddy. Your pretty little cunt belongs to daddy.” He growled, cock twitching at the thought. “You’re mine.”
He cursed under his breath when he felt his balls tighten up. Lifting himself so he was sitting on his knees, he rapidly fisted his cock, keeping your panties pulled to the side. As soon as the first ropes of come shot out onto your cunt, he let out a low groan at the sight. He grunted and moaned, breathing heavily as he watched all of his come land on your folds. He waited until the last drop beaded on the tip, then dragged his cock through your slit, spreading his arousal. He moved it down toward your hole and just barely pushed his cock forward to get some of it inside.
“Good girl.” He said through a heavy breath, admiring you for another moment before fixing your underwear and night dress, then tucking his cock back in his pants. He stopped again and just stared at you for a few seconds. Your cheeks were a little flushed from the alcohol and probably also the stimulation on your clit, and your lips were just barely parted as you breathed quietly. “Made daddy feel so good.” He whispered as he leaned down to kiss your forehead. You let out an incoherent sound, making him smile. “Sweet dreams, little one.” 
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rosenclaws · 5 months ago
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Hi! 👋
I saw your requests were open and I was wondering if I could submit a request?
The reader is a shy artist who is a friend of Wades. She carries a sketchbook with her everywhere to sketch new pieces, but she doesn't show her work to people unless it's to Wade.
She and Worst!Logan become friends and slowly develop feelings for one another, but they won't say anything to each other because they think that the other wouldn't want them. Until Worst!Logan finds her sketchbook by accident and finds the book is filled with sketches of him. Worst!Logan confronts her about it, but she's a stuttering mess, and they end up confessing to each other. And please make it extra fluffy. Maybe throw in a kiss or a makeout session. Your choice lol.
Thank you and have a good day! 😊
Hidden Feelings and Hidden Sketches || Worst!Logan Howlett x Reader
warnings: drinking, swearing, wade making suggestive comments, make out sesh towards the end, reader gets drunk and logan helps her out. Logan also calls the reader sketch. It got kinda suggestive at the end I apologize sldfjka
a/n: Hi!! This idea is adorable omg I love it, I hope it was fluffy enough for you I have to admit I'm not great at writing pure fluff. I also hope wade is funny because I am not funny so its hard to write his dialogue sometimes. I also altered the plot a little so i hope its okay
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You never quite understood how you and Wade became friends. He was possibly the biggest extrovert you have ever met and you were the exact opposite. He saw you once at his favorite diner with your sketchbook and he jumped into the seat across from you.
Yapping on about your art and if you drew often and that he once tried to paint but the class didn't appreciate his art and asking if you'd paint him naked as a present for his girlfriend. Which you declined very quickly.
He wouldn't leave you alone, talking and asking you all sorts of things. You getting a few words in and him covering the other 98% of the conversation. He left with the promise of seeing you again and disappeared before you could say anything else.
It was an odd experience that's for sure but you liked Wade. Sure enough he kept coming back and a friendship had blossomed. He invited you over to dinner multiple times but you always declined, choosing to meet at the diner instead.
Slowly he got you out of your shell around him. Cracking jokes and sometimes putting him in his place when he went a little too far. You showed him your sketchbook after a while and he gushed over your drawings. Begging you to draw him at his best angles and you would sometimes give in.
When he disappeared for a while you got worried, that is until he showed up with a new dog and a very handsome new friend. You couldn't take your eyes off of him. Wade spotted you and waved but you didn't even notice.
"I know right, he's like a tall glass of rage filled water." Wade sighs as he sits across from you.
"I uh what?" You hug your sketchbook close to your chest as you rip your eyes away from Wade's new friend.
"Oh don't pretend like you weren't eye fucking him the second he walked in here, not that I blame you." Your eyes widen as you start to stutter. Your face heating up as you stare at the pancakes in front of you instead. A loud grunt catches your attention. You can barely meet his eyes as your brain is too busy being embarrassed by what Wade had said.
"You can sit on my lap angel cakes." Wade pats his leg but gets shoved to the side as his new friend sits down across from you.
"Logan this is my friend, be a good kitty and play nice." Logan rolls his eyes and chooses to ignore Wade. He does look at you though, burning a whole through your skull.
"Hi Logan," You say shyly.
"Hi." A few beats of silence pass until Wade breaks it as usual.
"Well aren't you two the life of the party, if you excuse me I have to go relieve myself." Wade stands up and instead of asking Logan to move, starts to climb over the man.
"What the fuck?!" Logan hisses as he grabs Wades shirt and tosses him to the ground. You can't help the laugh that escapes your mouth as your friend flops to the ground.
"So rude." Wade shakes his head and heads off to the bathroom. Silence falls once again as you awkwardly push around the pancakes on your plate.
"What's that?" Logan asks, nodding towards your sketchbook. You grab your book and shove it into your bag.
"Nothing! It's uh, just a sketchbook it's nothing don't worry about it." Logan raises an eyebrow as you panic in front of him.
As if you couldn't feel more embarrassed. You debate on waiting for wade or just leaving to save yourself but Logan makes the choice for you.
"You don't have to stay, not holding you hostage." He sips his coffee as you let out a shaky laugh.
"Not much of a talker." You play with your fork as you look up at Logan. He's much more handsome up close.
"Neither am I." He offers a small half smile and you return it. He's still incredibly intimidating but maybe you can stick it out a little longer. Logan's food comes and the two of you eat in a comfortable silence and when you're done you work up the courage if he'll be here tomorrow. He holds the door open for you as you step outside.
You clutch tightly onto the strap of your bag as you wait for his answer. He lights a cigar and you try and suppress your smile when he says he will be. As you part ways you realize that Wade never did come back from the bathroom.
That sneaky bastard.
-on
The diner uh, meetings as you called them, with Logan were amazing. His grumpy exterior was hard to crack but eventually the two of you started to become friends. Being with Logan started to become your favorite parts of the week. He was more than the tough guy persona he put on. What surprised you the most is that he seemed interested in you too. Well you know as friends.
Logan could appreciate someone who liked the quiet. He never pushed you out of your comfort zone, never made you feel uncomfortable. He was just Logan. Call it what you want but it was only a matter of time before you fell head over heels for that man. Not that you'd ever tell him.
How could you?
He's a superhero. He's gorgeous and grumpy and funny and so much more. All you do is draw silly pictures. So for now you settle on friends. Even if he makes your stomach turn with ever smile. Even if his laugh is the best thing you've ever heard. Friends. That's good enough for now.
-
"Wade Wilson I am going to kill you!" You say angrily.
He had texted you asking you to meet him for coffee and you had agreed solely because you never got the chance to scold him for his little dine and dash.
"Leaving me alone with a stranger!" You slap his hand as he tries to reach for your pastry.
"Ow! That was so five months ago! Anyways I was just trying to help. You know, relieve the sexual tension." You gasp as he makes a very lewd gesture with his hands.
"Besides, you and Logi bear are spending a lot of time together for just being friends huh Boo-Boo." Before you can stop him he reaches for your sketchbook. Keeping it just out of reach as he flips through the pages.
"Give it back!" You plead as you reach across the table.
"Oh. My. God. How come you never draw me this sexy?" He shows you the pages and you fall back into your seat in defeat.
You know what's in there and now Wade does too. Pages and pages of sketches of Logan. You feel like a stalker. It's not your fault! Ever since you met him he's all you can think about. All you can draw.
"Please give it back." You beg but he refuses.
"You'll get it back after you admit to Logan how you feel."
"What!" Your jaw drops as you make another lunge for your book.
"I am a very impatient man and I'm not about to wait another thousand words for the two of you to fuck." He stands up and tucks the book down his pants.
"Ew really?" You groan as you let your face fall into your hands.
"I'm having a get together and you're invited. Logan will be there it's the perfect opportunity." You feel like throwing up at the idea of talking to Logan about any of this.
Maybe you could just steal it back tonight. Or maybe you could never show your face to anyone ever again. Yah the second option sounds better. If only it was that simple. You waited for many anxiety filled hours, the only thing on your mind is getting your damn book back. You knock on the door and it swings open with Wade standing there, a stupid smile on his face.
"Honey badger at 4 o'clock." He hands you a drink and pushes you right towards him. You shoo him away, taking a deep breath and head towards Logan.
"Hi Logan," You say nervously.
"Didn't think these were really your thing." He says with a smile. You laugh nervously and nod your head.
"Yeah well...I thought he'd finally stop asking if I came to one of these things." You joke. Logan snorts and offers you the seat next to him.
"Good luck with that." You sit next to him and swirl around the ice in your drink.
If you're going to tell him then you're going to need a lot of help. Logan's eyes widen as you down your drink in one go, making a face before asking for another one. He's never seen you at a party, let alone drink.
"Why don't you take it easy there sketch."
"It's a party right, why not have a little fun." Logan keeps an eye on you as you drink and drink. As the night passes on he realizes that you might have had a little too much. You can barely get a sentence out by the time the party's over.
"Hi Logii!" Your arms slink around his neck as you stumble into him.
"Come on, let me take you home." He chuckles as he helps you to the door.
"Nooo, I needa get my uh..." You stop and think for a moment.
"My uhhh" Logan hums as he helps you to your apartment. You stay close to Logan as you walk through the night. He's just so warm and he smells so good.
"Got your keys?" You pat around for them and frown. Logan reaches into your bag and pulls them out.
"Right here." He unlocks your door and helps you to your bed. You sigh as your head hits your pillow.
"Oh! my sketchbook. Wade has my sketchbook." You say with a yawn.
"I'll get it back tomorrow, now sleep well." Logan takes off his jacket and lays it on you. He brushes your cheek gently. A soft smile on his face as he leaves you to sleep peacefully.
"Good night."
-
God your head hurt and the sun was way too bright. You crack your eyes open groan as you head pounds. What were you even thinking last night? You wanted your damn book back that's what you were thinking. A loud knock on your door makes you moan in pain. Getting up you swing open your door only to be met with Logan holding your book. Your face pales as you see a smirk on his face.
"Wade gave me back your book." You reach out for it but he holds it back.
"You're a real good artist sketch." To your horror he opens up your book and flips to one of its pages.
Right in front of you was a side profile sketch of Logan. It had been while you were at the park or something. The sun was hitting him perfectly, he had this content look on his face. You couldn't help but draw it when you got back home. To capture him in a moment where everything felt okay.
"I uh..I.." You don't know what to say. He caught you red handed. Your face is on fire from shame and embarrassment as he finally hands over your book. You can't even look at him.
"I'm sorry." You whisper. Shutting your eyes you hope he gets the hint and leaves, leaves you to wallow in pity.
"Sorry? Why are you sorry." He grabs your chin and tilts your head up.
"I'm flattered sketch. I think you really captured me pretty good." You still can't bring yourself to say anything as you hug your book tightly. You can't tell if he's making fun of you or what.
"This isn't funny Logan." You try and push his hand off you but his grip is strong.
"Not trying to be funny." He brushes his thumb over your lips.
"Logan..." Your eyes flick down to his lips and you know he catches you.
"Say it, come on don't be shy. Not with me." Sighing you dig your fingernails into your book.
"I love you." Your voice is barely above a whisper, eyes squeezing shut. You almost hope he doesn't hear it but of course he does.
He presses his lips to yours roughly. You drop your book in shock as you melt deep into his kiss. Wasting no time in kissing him back, hands wrapping around his neck to pull him closer. He deepens the kiss as his hands fall to your sides. You pull away much to his disappointment, his lips chasing after yours for a moment.
"I love you too." He kisses your jaw lightly making you sigh.
"You know, those drawings were good but I think you got my lips wrong." You furrow you eyebrows, you thought you got his lips pretty good. After all you stared at them long enough to memorize them.
"Yeah sweetheart, think you need a lesson." He walks you back until you hit your couch.
"Get up close and personal." He winks as you bite your lip. How flustered can he make you?
"Then maybe you can show me more of those drawings."
Well, If it would help make your drawings more, accurate. Then who are you to say no?
"Okay." You run your hands along his arm as you look back up at him. Nerves and excitement swirling around your eyes.
"Don't worry sketch, I'm a pretty good teacher."
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bunny-jpeg · 7 months ago
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Hi I’m sorry if your not doing the bakery anymore! But if you are can I please have a nanaimo bar and a tiramisu with a side of bubble tea served by Max Verstappen?
I love your writing so much!
bakery menu
want to suggest your own order? send it now! i am adding more prompts to the list!! i'd love to hear from you! i do really like this, i feel like daddy kink hasn't be suggested enough! also, i think ya'll really like when i write max! which thank you so muuuuuch! i love writing him. i have made him a bit more of a dom than i usually do, i am a sub!max truther lol.
nanaimo bar ("who's my pretty girl? c'mon say it.") + tiramisu (“my little slut to ruin.”) + bubble tea (daddy kink)
cw: smut/pwp, daddy kink, collars, oral sex (m receiving), dom!max, mean!max, "kitty"!reader, dirty talk
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max never really liked to watch highlights or old races. the race itself felt like it was imprinted on his bones, memorized in his muscles. but for a boring sunday night during the off season, he didn't mind a gin & tonic and sitting in front of the couch watching them back to back online.
he wasn't alone. over the last six months he has had such a cute little companion. a little girlfriend. you were stunning, funny and over all sweet. you were perfect and most of the grid adored you. but max felt that if they knew what you two got up to in the off-season, they'd be even more endeared to max's little kitty.
you were a good girl for daddy today, so you got to snuggle with him on the couch. he laid out with you on top of him, your head on his chest as you linked your fingers with him.
"you had such a good day today, kitten." he said quietly as he rubbed your head with his other hand. earlier you had your head in his lap as he drank through two g&ts. but now you two were just cuddled up.
you looked at him and replied with a slight smile, "thank you, daddy." then closed your eyes when he want in for a kiss.
he smiled into the kiss and held your head close to him. bunyou still tasted like the lingering bubblegum of your lip gloss. but that was smeared all over his lips by now.
you were in a red bull t-shirt and panties. the shirt did nothing to cover the swell of your ass from him. he kissed the side of your head and you leaned into his touch.
"who's my pretty girl? c'mon say it."
"i am." you said as you looked at him with the sweetest expression, "i'm your pretty girl." you rubbed up against max.
he reached down and groped your ass before he kissed the roundness of your cheek. he could feel himself getting harder in his shorts.
he chuckled, "i ruined you. my little slut to ruin." then kissed your face some more. he loved the feeling of you against him. you really were the prettiest thing he had ever seen.
from the moment he saw you at the pool party. your laughter ran through clear as day, and max knew that he wanted, if not, needed you.
"does daddy need something taken care of?"you asked as you rubbed up against max. you heard his breath hitch in his throat.
"you little tease." he said as he squeezed your hand, "why don't you make yourself useful then?" then rubbed his cock up against your front.
you could never say to no to him, just as much as he couldn't say no to you. you lifted your head and exposed the shiny black leather collar that you wore during your 'fun time' with max.
you slinked off the bed and kneeled then watched him plant his feet on either side of you, giving you a full view of his clothed cock.
"you're nothing without me." he said as he rubbed your cheek, "you're just good for keeping my cock wet, pretty girl." his words burned in your brain and made you core hot. you watched him pull his hard cock out of his pants and you leaned in to give the tip a proper, wet kiss.
he stilled for a moment before his hand was in your hair and guiding your mouth fully onto his impressive size. max could be a mean daddy dom sometimes, talking down to you in a patronizing way.
but, fucking hell did it make you hot all over. it was like being dragged over hot coals. it hurt but it left you yearning for more.
max guided your head up and down his cock and growled, "pretty little slut, i've ruined you for other men, haven't i? guess you can't leave now, stuck with me.' he gripped the hair near the scalp and rolled his hips a little up, nudging his cock further.
your eyes closed but you were met with a firm, but not hard, smack on the cheek. you opened your eyes and looked up at him, mouth still full of cock.
"eyes on me. i'd hate to punish you tonight, you were doing so good." he lightly scolded, he even went as far as to wag his finger in your face like a isolate animal.
you moaned and rubbed your thighs together as you continued to orally pleasure him. his cock was a nice weight in your mouth as you felt the fat tip nudged against the back of your throat.
you took it all in stride, you enjoyed the feeling of his cock in your mouth. he was simply so good in your mouth. if he wasn't bullying your throat, he was bullying your pussy. he was making his kitty moan and paint, occasionally squeal and squirm.
but max kept his kitty on a short leash. (sometimes literally).
he loved the sight of you in a collar and on your knees. your bright eyes shined at him as you continued to suck him off. he continued to move your head up and down.
"you look the best like this." he admitted, "on your knees for your daddy." he chuckled, "if i wasn't so protective over you, maybe i'd invite norris or leclerc over. see what i get every night." he yanked on your hair a little, "but it would take a long for me to watch you suck someone else off. you're meant for me." he said as he tapped your nose.
you nodded obediently, like a good girl and moved your head. the grip on you was tighter and the heat pooled in your gut. you felt spit down your chin and onto your breasts from having your throat nudged at.
max sighed and closed his eyes for a moment as he really let you pleasure him. he could feel the heat in his gut and he started to tense up.
"you feel so good." he said, "you're so good for me. that's it, take all of me." he groaned as he really started to shove his cock into the back of your throat. it choked you a little with each hard thrust.
he cursed under his breath as it really started to light up parts of his brain. he groaned before he pulled his cock out of your mouth easily and jerked it a few times before he came all over your face. spurts of cum landed on your cheeks and down your lip. he almost came twice from the erotic image.
if only his phone were closer, he could have a little something for when he was on the road. but for now he'd have to settle with watching you eagerly wipe the cum off your face and lick your fingers and palm.
you looked at him, breathing heavily. you looked like such a perfect kitten for him. you said to him, "did i do good, daddy?" your tone was so honest, it made his cock twitch.
"of course you did. you're always a good kitty for daddy." he chuckled as he rubbed the top of your head, "you'll always be good enough for me."
he'd eventually get up and get a damp cloth for you to wipe your face. then he'd put you back where you were before and cuddle you up in his arms. safe and sound, like a good kitty.
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allfortheslay25 · 12 days ago
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Hi!!! I love your blog and was wondering if you have any Milo and Warren hcs?
Spoilers for Milo’s Future
The first cordial conversation these two have actually happens at Eden’s (before it is ruined lol)
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Like I’ve mentioned before, Milo’s goal while being with the Foxes was to improve their teamwork and help them win a game. One of their team bonding things he suggested was clubbing together so he took them to Eden’s since his family has a history there (and he could house them in the Columbia house which he bought from an old Fox when he was 15)
Wymack allowed the team to go out as long as they stayed in doors and didn’t get into too much trouble. Milo was stuck babysitting the real trouble makers and he unfortunately had a rude awakening that the bartender he met back as a kid (Roland) was not as chill as he thought he was
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Warren let the cigarette burn away at the tips of his nails. Christen leaned closer to his knuckles to blow at the cherry end, smirking when he recoiled in disgust.
“You need to smoke it or it’ll die.” Christen said.
Warren stuffed his free hand into the leather confines of his jacket pocket, clenching his fist so hard his scabs split open.
“Disgusting. Let it die.”
Ash stumbled, leaning her weight into Christen as she blew a mouthful of smoke his way. “I’ve been sooooo generous. We’ve been so generous. You don’t want to let your lungs stay a virgin forever, babe, it’s embarrassing.”
The striker had been nothing but a nuisance to Warren since he moved to the states. Intoxicated and naked, she preferred to press his buttons and rob him of his anger management progress. But Ash was scum and Warren found hanging out with someone like her made him feel better about himself, as horrible as it was. He felt indebted to her after knocking her out of last year’s season. Warren looked down at the cigarette between her fingers. It was hard to tell the arm had ever been broken at all.
When her hands reached for his face, he moved his arm up, stopping her in her tracks. Christen pulled them back, far enough that Warren would be forced to take three steps forward if he so much as wished to snap their necks.
“My eyes are up here,” Ash cooed.
Warren glanced away from her long throat and scowled at the two oufs.
“Really, though, how do you expect to manage all that crazy without something to take off the edge? Smoking a cigarette is the least dangerous option we’ve offered you.”
Christen jostled her. “I don’t even know why you bothered asking the retard.”
Warren dug his thumbnail through his pointer finger and clenched his teeth so hard he’d be sure to crack his jaw.
Ash grinned and hip checked Christen. “I like him. Big scary European dog. Woof woof.”
Warren curled his lip. He didn’t know how far intoxicated she was but it couldn’t be as hard as their usual routine. He saw Milo empty their pockets before they left.
Just like that, Warren’s body sagged in content. The image of Milo’s beautiful eyes swirled through his brain like crystal waves at the beach. Sometimes, Warren got jealous of the sun, being that the evidence of its kisses freckled his skin every time he saw him. Warren would not insult God by praying for the man, but he begged his forgiveness every night for he knew who he’d see in his dreams. Such a twisted form of fate to introduce him to someone so addicting. It wasn’t right. Warren was sure you’d have to first taste something for it to control you so, yet here he stood, poisoned with no antidote for heartache. Oh, Warren wanted so deeply it burned. It will burn. The devil smirks at me now.
“Hey!”
Warren startles, his fist coming out of his pocket but then he sees the eye of the sea and stops. Milo was a sight to behold. He’d demanded everyone dress their best for this night out, as if it were a requirement for entry at this so-called ‘Eden’. Warren had allowed Ash to dress him and in turn, he’d lent Christen a few things. But Milo had surely tricked him. The man must be planning Warren’s murder, why else distract him with a flash of his gorgeous and freckled abdomen. So many freckles.
Milo stomped over to the blonde mooncalves. Christen once again pulled them away, far from where the young Minyard-Josten could smell their deceit.
“You two! Get back inside!” He shouted.
Christen and Ash moved faster than Warren thought possible, hiding the cigarette and Ash’s positively large pupils. Milo chased them to the back door of the club, a breathtaking view as the moonlight earned her turn to caress his face in her light. Warren swallowed the lump in his throat or maybe the Lord holds his tongue as punishment for his unfathomable lust.
“Don’t ruin the night for everyone! You both know Coach said to stay indoors!” Milo hisses at their backs.
He huffed, shoulders going down as he muttered something venomous under his breath. Warren’s face flushed at the intrusive idea that Milo ought to shout at him instead. Don’t waste your words on the air or the piss covered concrete. Cuss at me. Spit the poison at me, burn me with your glare. Warren vaguely recognized the heat from the cigarette threatening at the first knuckle of his finger. It wasn’t enough to bring him out of his longing. Milo’s teal coat emphasized the color in his irises, but paled in comparison to the makeup he asked the Captain to frame around his eyes after Barry David called him a slur. Warren had begun to realize Milo lived to spite others. He wore makeup to spite David, sung in the locker rooms to press the men’s buttons, trimmed his hair because Ash said long hair was more attractive on him, and pressed his chest against Warren’s just because he stole the ball from him during scrimmages. And if Warren found more ways to knock over Milo’s stick, just to feel the idea of Milo’s heartbeat against his own—
“Oh, Warren…” Milo noticed him, awkwardly dropping his tensed fists behind him.
Warren was too dumbfounded to speak. He bit his tongue to prevent it from getting him in trouble. Despite what the team thought, he wasn’t slow. English wasn’t easy, he found it hard to form a sentence that wasn’t as vulgar as he learned from the Sharks back in France. They taught him all the bad words first, then worse things so he’d follow along during their threats. But English, Greek, nor French—none of their vocabularies held the words Milo deserved to hear. However, this was his chance was it not? Couldn’t he start fresh? Couldn’t he apologize? He hadn’t ruined it all just yet. Milo isn’t like the rest. He closes the distance with Warren everytime they speak, he stands too close, closer than anyone on the team had the courage to. He could close the distance. He didn’t need Milo to hold him or fall in love with him. Warren was okay watching from the sidelines, listening to his voice was enough. Let me watch as you play exy with the kind of fire that devastates our earth, let me listen to you ramble on about anything. I’ll hang on to every word like clothes on a line or a painting on a wall. Just say yes.
Milo smiled, as if he heard Warren’s thoughts.
“Having fun?” He asked.
Warren bit down harder. He shrugged in lieu of an answer.
Milo glanced down at his cigarette. Warren was about to crush the offending stick until Milo leaned closer, taking a deep breath and giving Warren a soft look. “Sorry,” he said bashfully, “the smell reminds me of simpler times. It’s nice.”
“Do you smoke?” Warren blurted.
Milo paused, maybe not expecting Warren to speak at all.
“No… I can’t. But it’s a nice reminder that things hadn’t always been so bad.” He gives the cigarette one last gentle look before shrugging off the wall. “I’d better go back inside, make sure everyone is safe.”
Warren watched him go, because it’d be cruel to force him to stay. He looked down at the cigarette still holding on between his crooked fingers and brought it to his lips.
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This is what the sketches looked like from three years ago lol
I would’ve added the rest of the scene (I wrote it three years ago) but the post was getting too long. Anyways, unfortunately the night ends when Milo is really put off by Roland (who’s been flirting with him since he found out who he was) so he’s trying to get his foxes to leave. Ashely refuses and is just doing drugs and chatting up some dude. Warren, pent up from the anger Chris and Ash stacked on him all night, went to civilly bring her to the cars. Ash badmouths him and comments on his mothers and his hard on for Milo (which is a joke since no one knows he’s crushing) so Warren snaps and breaks her jaw on the counter of the bar. They’re kicked out of Eden’s and Milo has to get them to the ER
Warren ruined his development with Milo who begins to be cautious around him now, keeping Warren at arms length and worst of all, Warren watched Milo’s hands tremble as he dialed coach on the way there.
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burningcheese-merchant · 3 months ago
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Psst, hear me out: The Beast being fucking yanderes with the ancients.
You Get It™️ I mean... Did you guys see episode 6? Burning Simp Cookie is already a yandere lol. He's been there and he refuses to leave. And Shadow Milk is honestly not that far behind, he feels some type of way towards Pure Vanilla and it would be cute if it wasn't so sad and creepy lol
Really though, I just love hero/villain ships in general (always have, since long before Cookie Run ever existed) and I get a kick out of villains acting stupid over crushes (read: obsessions), and acting stupid in general. There's just something about a villain being in love with the hero to a psychotic, comical degree, and the hero rebuffing them at every turn that's just really amusing to me lol. Like what Joker sort of has with Batman, you know?
Here are my Yandere Beasts in bare-bones terms:
Burning Spice: come on, if you've read my stuff, you know EXACTLY what Yandere Spice is like lol. If not, I'll refer you to this and this, as well as my fics on AO3. If those don't tell you what Yandere Spice is like then idk how else to help you lol
Shadow Milk: if the final boss of theater/drama kids had a crush but was also a malignant narcissist of some sort lol. Absolutely DESPERATE for Vanilla's attention at all times. If he's not actively trying to worm into Vanilla's brain and harass him in his thoughts and dreams, he's in the real world brainstorming better ways to do that lol. He does not grasp why the creepy puppet shows and gaslighting attempts aren't convincing Vanilla to fall in love with him. Will attack and torment and insult Vani in one breath and then praise and love and worship him in another, because he's a histrionic clown freak with whirlwind emotions. But above all else, he literally thinks he owns Vani and is meticulously plotting the horrible and hilarious demise of any and all he perceives as a threat to their union
Eternal Sugar: World's Laziest Stalker™️. Almost exclusively haunts Holly in her dreams (I have to assume that that's what her power will entail, as the Beast of Sloth); however, she's more "effective" in her wooing attempts due to her past experience as the Herald of Happiness. She actually goes out of her way to construct dreams and the like that have things in them that make Holly happy (or what she thinks makes Holly happy; she, as well as the others, has big tunnel vision and is very selfish and self-absorbed, and thus pays more lip service to her own wants than those of who she loves/obsesses over). Thankfully doesn't run into Holly in person often because that's work... but sometimes she DOES work up the nerve to go after her for real, and... well
Mystic Flour: Denial, denial, denial. Not just a river in Egypt the Golden Cheese Kingdom, but she'll say and act like otherwise. No, she does not like Dark Cacao. He robbed her of her volition and the chance to enact her will. He prevented her from freeing the world from pain and suffering. He is a stubborn fool who refuses to understand the truth. He... is very handsome. She does not like how handsome he is. It is distracting. She doesn't like dwelling on her memories of him and their encounters. She doesn't like how she came to harbor a single kernel of respect in her heart after he stood his ground against her; a kernel that she inadvertently nurtured and cultivated slowly but surely, until... no. No, she doesn't like Dark Cacao. She doesn't think about him all day. She doesn't want to try to lure him back to her land so she can trap him in the flour fog with her again. She doesn't miss feeling his dark eyes on her. She doesn't deeply resent his attachment to his people, and seek to transfer that attachment to her instead. No, she... damn it, he's ruined her. He's made her feel things again. He's made her succumb to selfishness and greed, to earthly desire and attachment - desire for HIM, attachment to HIM. All of her hard work and enlightenment gone to waste... She doesn't want to like Dark Cacao, she recognizes the folly in such a thing, but she's stuck - and so stuck is she that not only does she not really see a way out, she doesn't WANT one. She's become too content with her attachment to him too quickly. Now she has to agonize over her own foolishness, and try to keep denying that she doesn't care while also longing for his attention and wanting to do away with all that steals his attention away from her
Silent Salt: probably the least awful of the five, but he's still creepy and that's not a high bar to clear anyway lol. Has a better grasp on "normal" behavior than the others (like... he pays attention to what White Lily likes/wants and tries to adjust accordingly), but he's following her around everywhere and acting extremely violent and territorial over her towards anyone who he catches approaching her. He's legitimately, surprisingly sweet and gentle towards her; he brings her flowers, he listens to her when she asks/tells him something, he's more or less respectful of her personal space (he will try to be as physically close to her as possible, but actually backs off a little if she asks him to, only to try again, and so on and so forth)... but he's still a villain, he's still violent and creepy, he still gets angry when she pays attention to other people for too long and he has brought actual harm to others out of jealousy. He's the best of the worst but that really doesn't mean much of anything, he's still a psycho creep like the others
In short, they form a tight-knit coalition of absolutely fucking deranged freakazoids and they should all probably die :)
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mullermilkshake · 28 days ago
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Hi! 😊
Your writing is so immersive that it feels cinematic—like watching a movie unfold in real time. I love how you always manage to surprise me with plot twists that I never see coming! It’s such a refreshing change from knowing exactly where the story is headed.
I’d absolutely love if you could give Yandere!Reader another go with Nanamin. I think it would be fascinating since Nanami’s level-headedness might keep him from suspecting her. And if you're open to poly ships, it’d be thrilling to add Gojo into the mix with a twist—Yandere!Reader x Nanami x Gojo, but with Gojo secretly yandere all along. Maybe he’s been stalking both of them, planning for the perfect moment to reveal his obsession and orchestrating their “first meeting” to suit his agenda. I’ll leave the rest to your creativity, as I’m sure you’ll bring unexpected layers and depth!
Thank you for considering this! I’m so grateful for all the hard work you put into your stories. 😊🌸
Thanks so much for the kind words! It really means a lot. I love trying to write it all cinematic and doing things that go against the grain because my brain is twisted lol.
I can definitely do that, I hope you enjoy it!
PART ONE - Kento Nanami x Reader x Satoru Gojo
TAGS- Yandere!Reader,Yandere!Gojo,Stalking,Thoughts of killing people,Yandere!thoughts and motives,Masking,Graphic depictions of violence and mentions of damage to eyes.
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One americano, two shots of espresso and two pumps of vanilla. Every day at seven thirty five. But not on Sundays sometimes because meetings run over. 
“Oh! I’m sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going- oh god look at your suit, it must be expensive right?”
It was about time you made proper contact with Kento Nanami. You watched on in awe at his stance, brushing the coffee away from his suit in such a way it made the mundane action sexy. Lustrous. Like he was trying to make the way he allowed a strand of hair to fall past his forehead almost purposefully. With an intent to send you crazy.
Good thing you weren’t like those fangirls you often saw on television, crawling about the stage because a man gyrated over his mic. No, you were merely a coffee barista. A damn good one at that. Well, except for spilling coffee all over Kento’s suit.
But how else were you going to get his attention?
You were barely hanging on as it was watching the others make his drink to order. That’s why you made this one for him.
Jesus fucking hell Utahime It’s two pumps of vanilla. I swear I could kill that bitch right now. Shove head under the hot water valve and watch her eyes burn out the sockets.
It was a little drastic, even for you, but if anyone just saw the way Utahime was talking to Kento they would have assumed the two were dating or something. Kento Nanami was single. Definitely single.
The last girl he wanted to date just never made it to that coffee date on time.
None of his other dates did either.
“It’s fine, really.” The first sentence he spoke to you wasn't ‘thank you’ or his coffee order.
A formulated sentence.
Well, that was five months ago. Kento Nanami made the right choice that day to accept your invitation for a drink. Just like you planned. All seemed well and good for a time before you were noticing something strange when out in public.
White hair.
It was all you seemed to ever see. Out in the store or late night trip to the movies, hooked up to Kento’s arm during a scary or suspenseful part. It just seemed to be there, though you never knew who it belonged to. Never a face to linger for a second to make the connection. Just nothing. It tickled the back of your neck, putting you on the defense as though Kento was in danger. What sort of fucked up person would stalk someone? The idea of it was deranged, sick at the thought that someone was watching him, watching you with him.
White hair. You just couldn’t place it.
“Ken, love! What do you think of this dress?!” You called from upstairs, slipping on your shoes and smoothing down the hem of the fabric.
“I’m sure it’s perfect-” He paused, looking you up and down as though studying every inch of your body before he forgot what it looked like.
“Do I look pretty?”
He nodded slowly, stepping close to sit his hand on your waist. “You look beautiful.”
Hearing Kento say such kind and wonderful things made your night, heck, your entire week. Who gave a crap what anyone else thought? Just Kento was more than what you needed to prove that he liked you very much. You loved him of course, but that was love at first sight. Counting down the agonising days until he said it back to you, when you told him all the time in your head or whilst he slept. It took restraint not to slip up and make him doubt things.
So difficult not to say it for the man you loved.
“Thank you.” You giggled at his touch, planting a kiss on your temple with a husky growl in his throat.
“Maybe we should leave dinner tonight? I can’t possibly see how I’ll cope without taking you back to mine straight away. Too beautiful.”
“Restrain yourself, Ken. Someone might think you’re in love with me or something!” Your ecstatic grin sat just in front of your face as though to mask your brain away.
Say it… just say it please. Tell me you love me. I need to hear it. 
His attentive smile made your stomach flip when he pulled you close and spun you around to face the mirror. “If they saw your smile, they would understand what a lovely person you are. And see how I can’t resist you when you’re in a dress like this.”
Oh dear. Maybe some other time. 
“Well,” You kept that mask on and pulled away from him. “Should we get going then? Don’t want to be late.”
“Of course.” 
Kento drove straight to the restaurant, quite an upscale place for no occasion. Maybe there was? Perhaps Kento had something planned that you were unaware of, something spontaneous or quite the opposite. A planned surprise? It was practically the night of your five month month anniversary after all, two hundred wonderful days spent seeing each other and having astronomical sex. 
You didn’t get your hopes up and held your breath when he climbed out of the car and opened the door for you. So special. So dedicated to your comfort with the slightest touch from his fingers on the small of your back. Adrenaline made everything ten times more acute, aware of everything and anything you walked by and as you seated yourself at the table facing Kento, your heart beat so fast. Five months was a long time when you had waited longer to be with him.
You were basically in a relationship with him for well over a year by now it seemed, surely that was long enough to hear those three words?
“Can I get you any drinks?” The waitress grinned at Kento and then at you.
Why him first? He was the most handsome man you had ever seen, but what right did this bitch have setting eyes on him? You ignored the irritation and blinked it away for now, letting Kento speak for you and took a moment to observe the room.
White hair.
A flash of it and you would have missed it had you turned away to scowl at the waitress again. White hair like you were imagining it.
“Darling?”
“Hm?”
“Are you alright?” Kento slid his hand forward and offered it to you. “You seem distant.”
“I’m fine.” You were not, but took his hand anyway. “It’s a little chilly in here, don’t you think?”
“I’ll ask them to turn the heat up, will that be alright?” 
He’s so considerate. “That would be great, thank you.”
You played it off and ignored the itch on the back of your neck, being watched did not agree with you. Kento sat still and his head tilted to the side a little, studying you again whilst his free hand rummaged into his suit pocket.
“I have something for you.” He pulled out a little box. “I know we haven’t been dating that long, but I wanted to get you something I hope you’ll like. If it’s too early, please let me know.”
A box. A small little box. It was light in your hand, velvet to the touch and firm enough that it must have come from those places that sold rings for stupid money. One little box, something so small which held your heart right in Kento’s pocket.
Is he proposing? Please tell me he’s proposing. It means he loves me, right? 
“Ken… What-” A pair of earrings.
“I know you lost one from the pair you always said you wore, so I wanted to get you a new pair. I hope it’s appropriate.”
You forbid yourself to be disappointed, because it wasn’t about the hope that a ring sat nestled perfectly in this box. You put up your mask and smiled sweetly enough to satisfy him. “It is. Thank you so much, I love them!”
He’ll propose some day. 
“Here are your drinks.” 
The waitress took Kento’s drink off first and placed it right in front of him. Then she placed yours down off to the side. She was doing it on purpose, you were sure of it. The steak knife on the table looked pretty good to shove straight in her neck- 
She cleared her throat and placed the tray under her arm. “I’ll be back in a moment to see what you'd like to order.”
“Thank you.” Kento paid no mind to it and took a sip of his wine. “This is a nice vintage, I think we should go to one of those wine tasting evenings. It’s a good place to get to know each other more.”
You did not need to know Kento more. You knew practically everything about him in the four months he stepped into your life physically. 
He liked to drink, hence the wine tasting suggestion. Kento also enjoyed cooking, especially as he lived alone in his apartment, but he also enjoyed dishing up delicacies in your own kitchen. His birthday was July third and he had a particular interest in the arts, like music and theatre. A man of many tastes. 
“Hello there, can I get you something to eat?” A voice of a man you did not recognise came into ear shot.
“I think we might need a minute. Our waitress is taking our order.”
White hair.
You looked up and saw white hair, only this time it did not disappear. The white hair had a face, a blue eyed porcelain complexion with a smooth grin. The man stood taller than Kento dressed in a suit and staff ID.
“I’m sorry, she suddenly became unwell and had to go home. I’ll be taking your order tonight.” He smiled again and made eye contact with you. “My name is Satoru Gojo and I will do everything I can to make sure your night is perfect.”
Gojo. His gaze over you was the exact same distinct feeling of being preyed on. His cutting glare just behind the loose strands of hair over his forehead that looked softer than a cloud. You didn’t know what to make of this, but at least that waitress was gone. You really thought you were going to have to do something about her.
“Alright then. I’ll be back momentarily.”
“Ken, I’m just going to use the restroom, if he comes back before then, can you order me…” You took a brief glance at the menu and chose anything you first landed your eyes on. Gojo wandered off towards the opposite end of the restaurant, somewhere not where the kitchen was. “The steak? I’ll have it however it’s recommended.”
“Alright.”
You took off and made your way over towards the restroom, noting that he had disappeared. Crap. You wanted answers to why it seemed like that man was following you, stalking Kento for no apparent reason.
Would you need to do something about this guy? He was taller than you realised, so he must have been stronger too. You were not super strong by a long stretch, but when pushed enough to the limit, it drove you to do things you thought your body was not capable of.
Just look at the last waitress that brought the wrong drink and almost spilt it all over him just last week. So much blood and she was still wailing after you shoved your stiletto heel in her face.
People never learn. 
By the time you reached the restroom, the stalls were all empty besides one. The long wall length mirror outlined them all like little match boxes opened after use, showing the amber light inside for an ambient glow.
“How did I know that I’d find you in here, hm?” Gojo’s voice echoed throughout the restroom.
It startled you enough to move towards the door and lock it, backing away from the closed door and sitting your back flush with the slate grey tiles adjacent to it.
The toilet stall opened and he came out much less cheerful than he was outside, hands tight in his trouser pockets. “You can’t help yourself, can you?”
“Who are you?”
“It’s funny, no one else ever seems to notice me when I don't want them to. But your instincts are hot on it every time, aren’t they?”
“Tell me who you are.” 
This wasn’t a show of weakness or a moment that revealed your vulnerabilities. When you glared back in his eyes, it was Kento you thought of. If this man was here to hurt him, well, you’d fucking kill him. Out in the back alley, no witnesses and back in time for your steak and boyfriend you’d do anything for. To kill for three times over already. Yes, you’d do it if the opportunity called for it.
“Y’know, I was so ready to come and kick the shit out of that guy when I saw that little box he gave you, but I see right through that little charade you got goin’ on. I've been watching' you a while now.” By now, he’d taken precisely four steps towards you, taking the opportunity to lean against the row of inbuilt sinks. “You’re exactly like me.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, but you need to stop stalking me and my boyfriend. I’ll call the police.”
Gojo’s laugh made your stomach lurch. This guy was a whole new level of crazy you had never seen before. “That’s cute. You’re cute. But no, I’m not stalking him, just you.”
“Then stop doing that.”
“Why, aren’t you scared that I might do what I just said I was goin’ to do? He looks strong but when he has his hands all over you, it sorta drives me crazy.”
Gojo would not make it past the restroom door if he intended on hurting Kento. Yet, why did you contemplate that you’d rather take on the waitress instead of him right now?
Shaking the doubts away, you imagined the scenarios that may occur should you get hold of another steak knife or any other sharp object really. One of the heavy statues in the foyer could prove adequate to crush his head or even one of those little blow torches for creme brûlée right to his face.
For now, your mask dropped, and for a time you could breathe a little. Pretending to be happy all the time was difficult work and holding back on punching anyone who gave eyes at Kento took practice and great restraint. “If you go near him at all, I’ll kill you. I won’t just kill you though, it’ll be worse than torture.”
Gojo stepped closer to you and looked down as though you were a child to be patronised. “That’s my girl. Now, why don’t you introduce me to your little boyfriend so we can make this more official, huh?”
He’d backed you into a corner, right up against the wall. “I meant what I said. Don’t come near us.”
“And I know you have the same urges as me, you think no one sees, but I do. I see you. You won’t have to pretend around me. I’ll even do all your dirty work, that’s what I enjoy most.” He placed his palm on the wall beside your head, leaning in so his mouth was right next to your ear. 
“Lets get this fucked up little love triangle kickin’ hm?
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jhoneybees · 8 months ago
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Fear
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This is a first! My first smutty fic that is inspired by this song!
Taglist: @elvisalltheway101 @atleastpleasetelephone @i-r-i-n-a-a
Characters: Mid60s!Elvis x Wife!Reader
Warning/triggers: Never knew I would be saying this but...Smut! lol, mentions of sex, nudity, reader's first time-ish, nipple play, blowjob, male receiving and almost female receiving
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The both of you are quite open with your thoughts and feelings and it's been like that for years and years, of course Elvis and you would sometimes feel a bit insecure about something but you two would find ways to work through it.
But the only thing that Elvis hasn’t shared with you is a fear, something that he thinks you might find silly and… maybe it is.
Ever since you met back in 1964, he has been dodging the topic of sex over the many years of dating and it's not that you’re dumb and naive around sexual things, no sir, Elvis sure knows you’re not a stranger to foreplay and it’s not that he hasn’t done the deed before, the two of you know he’s been with many girls before.
It's just this one thought, this one itchy thought that's been plaguing his mind ever since you brought up the topic.
Of course, he wants to have sex with you. Oh how he wants to show you how a man really loves a woman.
But it's just…he’s afraid that he might hurt you.
Most men may think it’s silly to have such ideas because it’s only natural to thrust themselves into a woman and pound them into the mattress.
Right?
Well, yes but there's something about the thought of seeing your angel face contort in pain, tears springing at the outer corners of your eyes and hissing at the burning sensation that doesn't sit right with him, he knows the pain wouldn't last forever.
He's just scared.
He couldn't bear seeing you wincing and crying because of him. He's always been so sensitive with how you're taken care of and yes, you're a full grown woman and he probably shouldn't be worrying about you so much like that.
Hell, he can't help it though.
This fear is scarier than anything else to him, even more terrifying than the big fear of proposing to you which he did a year ago.
Now he's finally married to you and right at this moment sitting on the edge of a bed in a hotel suite in Hawaii, on your honeymoon.
“Elvis…”
Elvis perks up at your voice, seeing your head peeking out from behind the bathroom door with that gorgeous smile. His lips curl at the corners.
“Close your eyes”
He does what you say and closes his eyes, he has an idea what you might be doing and he's nervous to say the least.
Swallowing thickly as he hears the varnished floorboards creak, a light whiff of your sweet perfume tickles his nose.
“Feel me”
He gulps again and when your soft hands lift his ones up to place on your hips, his breath catches in his throat at the feeling of delicate lace.
“You know what it is?”
He nods quietly, his heart pounding in his chest, he thinks it might go out of control at any second.
“Open your eyes”
Just…
How could he do such a thing to you? To tarnish your angelic, heavenly body, with how the white lace underwear moulds onto your hips and the little pudge below your belly button. The matching white lace bra complimenting your breasts, the softness and fullness of them spilling over the tops and little pink buds peeking through the fabric.
It’s all making his head spin. You’re so beautiful and he can already feel his dress pants tighten. He has shown his love to you in so many ways but he has never shown the way that he has been waiting to do and as much as his heart is telling him to show you, his brain is stopping him.
Fingers pushing ever so lightly against your waist. Elvis is in absolute awe of you, the pressure of his fingertips pressing down on your skin makes something crack inside of him, his breathing becoming laboured when the urge to feel your entire body with his palms enters his mind.
His eyes roaming up your body, eyelids fluttering lazily. A groan vibrates in his throat.
“You’re gorgeous…” he breathes, earning an angelic giggle from you.
As his eyes begin to trail back down your body, they snap up to yours when you place a hand on his shoulder. A breath sucks out of him at the slight contact of his clothed length getting brushed by your knee resting on the mattress between his legs.
He gently lays himself down at the light push from your hand, making sure to let out a breath or he would’ve exploded right then and there.
A flame ignites in his heart at just the sight of you crawling on top of him, your goddess of a body planting right on his pelvis and leaning down closer and closer to his face. Sighing at the feel of your soft lips pressing onto his passionately.
Elvis’ hands try to grasp onto something, anything, and what he finds is your hips, your squishy but firm hips.
Sliding them up to the curves of your breasts, he hovers his thumbs over your hardened nipples. Hearing you let out a moan as he brushes over your clothed buds.
“H-honey…”
Stuttering in between kisses. He groans at your sensual hums and gentle nibbles on his bottom lip, watching you pull away, he looks into your eyes that dig into his soul and with hesitant hands, he gently clenches the sides of your panties in his fists. Feeling your hands trail down his chest to his pants, shuffling back to unbutton and his breath hitches at your fingers wrapping around his cock.
His mind falls static at the image of you, leaning down and peering up at him with your pretty soft lips parting to take him into your mouth, knowing you'd take such good care of him because you always do, and as he feels your wet tongue flatten against his tip and enveloping him in between your lips letting the wet muscle slide down under his length ever so slowly and so gently, the wind gets knocked out of his lungs.
“Ooohh baby…”
His voice comes out hoarse and pleasured. He tried keeping his head up to watch you but the anticipation of wanting to feel you spreads all throughout his body and with that his head falls onto the bed.
Shaky hands going up to press into his eye sockets, a string of moans fall from his lips. He swears you must know every little trick, you make him become so undone in such a short time.
His hips stuttering, more slow dragged out groans squeeze out of his throat as the suction in your mouth milks every drop of him.
Elvis in a daze, his hands fall to his sides. Taking a few moments to come back to earth.
After taking a few breaths, he opens his eyes, sensing your fingers grazing his skin as you undo the buttons on his shirt, sliding it just over his shoulders. He almost chokes on his own saliva when you quickly take your underwear off and unclasp your bra, leaving you bare naked right on top of him.
…How did he get so lucky?
He’s falling in love with your body all over again because of the view of your little imperfections that you would always think are ugly, he finds them so damn sexy and he always makes sure you believe that too.
His gaze travelling down your frame, he grunts at how pretty your dark wiry hairs decorate the trail down to your womanhood. He’s hypnotised by your beauty that he doesn’t notice his cock is nearly just about able to be nestled in between your lower lips but when you grind on him again while biting your lower lip, he suddenly feels the wetness and as he's sucking in a sharp breath, the realisation hits him like a truck.
“U-uh.. honey uhm-”
“Hmm?...”
His brain runs in circles. That thought comes drumming back into his mind. He doesn't want to hurt you.
Feeling your hand travelling up his chest, his breath hitches at the mischievous glint in your eye, your hips moving to grind on him again and a mental flash blinds his vision. Your little hole ripping open twice the size causing blood to seep out and a deafening scream right in his ear coming from your mouth.
Sucking in the air as his cock slides in between your lips, his heart pounds out of his chest even more.
A small whimper rolling off his tongue.
“Hon-”
Elvis stares as your eyes flutter close, your face contorting slowly into pleasure and the sounds of small moans falling from your pretty lips, his horror thoughts come to a halt at the sight of your angel beauty melting into something that he can imagine is sinful.
His heart almost stops when you lift your hips. hovering over his hard cock, you lower yourself slightly rolling your hips over his red, angry tip. Teasing him. Barely rubbing, making combined gasps and moans fill the room.
“D-don’t, I’m gonna hurt you- please”
Flashes of the painful images flood his vision again. With frantic hands, he grips onto your hips to stop you.
“Elvis?”
Peering up at you with parted lips and furrowed eyebrows “W-w-w-we shouldn’t…” he shakes his head while quickly sitting up, leaning himself back against the headboard. Gulping thickly, Elvis runs his fingers through his hair, breathing in and out as he tries to calm himself.
It’s not just him who's been waiting, it’s you too.
He should be telling you.
“I-I-I don’t want to hurt you, Y/n…I-It’s gonna hurt a-and It’s not that ah don’t think yer strong baby, yer real strong b-but its just…I-I can’t bear ta see ya in pain” he stutters.
Glancing over at you sitting there on your knees naked in front of him on the shared bed, he swallows harshly.
“Honey I-”
“It only hurts for a little bit…”
His heart thumps at your sudden soft voice, eyes flicking from one of your eyes to the other. He’s looking for something, something like some sort of judgement but all he can see is bravery, certainty and just pure love.
“W-we don’t gotta do this anymore if ya- if ya don’t want to” he mutters.
The room falls silent for a few moments before your voice breaks through.
“Have you always been gentle with me?”
“Baby?”
“Have you always been gentle with me, Elvis?”
Clearing his throat softly, he thinks for a bit.
“Of course, darlin”
“ And would that change now?”
“N-no…”
Elvis gulps, watching as you crawl closer. Your legs on either side of his hips gasping softly at the coolness of your fingertip lifting his chin, your soft stare boring into his soul.
“Then there’s no need to worry”
Then ever gently your lips press against his, his heart sighing at your delicate hands cupping his face.
“I want your sex, Elvis”
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yandere-sins · 1 year ago
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Ivyyyyyyyy >.< you're the worsttttt(read: BEST) oh my god the thoughts im having abt dilic with a period kink rn. Gawd and he doesn't even know it's a period kink, he thinks it's absolutely normal to do nasty things with his girl while she's bleeding out and feels proud about it that HE can take her pain away
OMG continuing the diluc saga but yan dilic thinks darling's period is the perfect opportunity to finally put his hands on darling. He knows you're in pain so he promises, he's doing this for YOU not him (lies) he'll ease it in gently and make it feel good! Soon darling will forget all about those cramps bc of him him him! He doesnt need to feel as guilty bc he's helping you out.....right? OMG PLS write something abt thissss, it can be any yandere or oc but im going crazy after what u saiddd
Hehe, you're welcome! I began writing this as just a talk, but decided mid-way through to make it a scenario!
a/n: I wrote this before my hiatus and coming back to correct it, I found so many mistakes, it doesn't even feel like I wrote this smh... I did my best to polish it a bit since I can't see myself rewriting it in the future but if you find anything oddly worded just ignore it lol I wasn't myself back then :')
[Warning: Yandere, Sexual Content]
I can just see the cock cogs turning in this idiot's head as he racks his brain about how he can help you. Clearly, you're in pain, but no matter how many more times he calls a physician to have a look, they just keep waving off his concerns. It's normal, they say. You're healthy. That's what everyone has to go through.
And yet he sees you writhing and crying in pain—it's breaking his heart!
Pillow pressed to your stomach, tears in your eyes that you can't blink away fast enough before they fall. You're especially irritable, but it hurts him more when you whine and complain; Diluc wanting to help you now more than ever. He's already gone through the usual stuff, the imported water bottles from Snezhnaya and the chocolate from Fontaine. If you utter so much as a craving, he has the servants scramble to get it to you. Nothing is too expensive or too hard to get. You could have asked for the heads of your enemies, and Diluc would have brought them to you with ribbons and glitter if that had helped with your pains.
But alas, it doesn't.
It's been three days, and his nerves are raw, the bags under his eyes dark, and the burden of your health weighs heavily on Diluc. He can't see how things will ever get better. The other times you were on your period were conveniently skipped by business trips, so this is hitting him full force.
"Exercising might help," one of the maids suggests as he forces himself to consult someone more knowledgeable than him.
"Sometimes, my wife likes a little stimulation to alleviate the pain," a vintner chuckles, winking at Diluc as the word of his helplessness spreads. And suddenly, inappropriate ideas get stuck in his head, making him blush like a young lad in love.
»»———————— ♡ ————————««
Taking a deep breath, Diluc raised his hand to knock on your bedroom door. It was terribly late, the servants asleep and only the eery flickering of his candle guiding him through the night. Most likely, you were tugged in and fighting for your well-deserved sleep, so he hesitated, fist hanging in the air before slowly dropping it to his side.
What he was about to do was not only foolish but also filled him with the same burning in his body as using his vision did. He could feel the warmth sweep over him from his head to his toes, the latter curling in his shoes while most of the heat was throbbing between his legs, aching to connect with your warmth in a less-than-innocent way.
However, these feelings were nothing compared to the agony of the last few days.
If this was what he had to do to help you alleviate the pain, he would. If it was for you, Diluc would do anything in his power, whether to protect or help you. If he had to become a mere plaything so you'd be freed of the pain, then his concerns were a small sacrifice for all the good he was going to do.
Brushing his hair back, Diluc took a deep breath, reminding himself there was nothing wrong with wanting to help. If the method the vintner suggested worked, everyone would be happy. And if not, he'd keep searching for ways to free you of the pain. Turning the key in the door lock, he pulled it out before slowly entering your room, ensuring he could give you two the privacy needed in this situation.
To his surprise, you were still awake.
You made a half-hearted attempt at a greeting, but when you noticed it was him, you only scoffed, turning away. It hurt when you gave him the cold shoulder so callously, but Diluc knew you were the one suffering at that moment, not him. He could forgive you for being dismissive of him. Your bedside lamp was still on, and he could see you clutching a pillow to your belly, his own stomach cramping up with remorse, even though, logically, he knew it wasn't his fault. He loved you as you were, the good and bad days, your misery becoming his own much too easily these days.
Setting down the candle on your table, he walked over to you. But not before locking the door from the inside, just so he could give himself a few more seconds before his approach. Every step cost him a lot of discipline, being near you never having been this hard. Even when he looked confident around you, Diluc only ever felt weak. You made him vulnerable. Desperate. Longing for your love and affection was all he was allowed to do, so even just watching your chest rise and fall set him ablaze.
Pushing off his shoes, Diluc focused on the little space you left at the edge of the bed. It was the only space he could see that was reserved for him, as he didn't deserve to share your bed, in your opinion. Yet, when he climbed in, pulling the cover over himself and snaking his arm around your waist, he was enveloped in your scent, your hair tickling his skin as he breathed in deeply. Had he known that heaven was hiding so closely to him, he might not have waited so long to come and see you.
"What are you--" you complained, pushing yourself away from him. But Diluc's hand had already wandered beneath the pillow, feeling the hot water bottle you kept secured there, only to replace it with his palm. He was just as, if not hotter than anything the servants could procure for you; his body temperature naturally elevated from his vision. It wouldn't burn you, but with his hand hugging your lower belly, it was much more effective and fitting than any appliance might be.
And you fell for it, even if just for a split second.
For a moment, you leaned into the comfort of his palm, the pain vanishing in the blink of an eye. Diluc even caught you sighing briefly before you came to your senses, jolting and pushing away from him, only to get stuck inside the blanket and pressed up against him. Diluc couldn't help but grin, having read your actions before they even occurred to you, but of course, this was a serious matter, so he quickly composed himself.
"H-Hey!" you yelled as his hand drifted lower, his face burying into the nape of your neck. He wasn't there to dilly-dally but to be of service. To help you in your time of need. By the time Diluc pressed his lips to your skin and his fingers between your legs, you understood his intentions as well, perhaps misinterpreted, but clear as day.
He was going to fuck the pain away. 
If exercise and stimulation helped others, maybe it would do the same for you. His fingers were met with warm slick, your body flinching when he moved over your clit. Perhaps his calloused hands weren't made for caressing and soft touches but for teasing and stimulating. Judging by how puffy your lower lips were, worked up from days of rubbing your legs together and your panties aggravating them mercilessly, you were in dire need of his help.
"Don't fight it. You're not alone in this," Diluc reassured you as you squirmed in his hold, biting back the salacious sounds of pleasure you were keeping from his ears. You were so mean, keeping every little taste of appreciation from Diluc, knowing how much it meant to him. But he'd endure. Even when your ass ground back against his cock, making it incredibly hard to not focus on his needs as well, he'd put you first in all of this.
When he slipped his pointer and middle finger towards your entrance, a tremor went through your body, a gasp slipping out from between your lips. Diluc never knew how easy it was to get inside another person, greeted warmly and happily by your hole clenching around his fingers.
His kisses became more fervent against your neck, teeth snapping out as he felt like he was losing himself in your scent and warmth. The pushes of his hips against your ass became faster, your cheeks fitting so well around his shaft. You yelled at him to stop, but he barely heard you through the sounds of your sloppy, wet cunt, blood mingling with eager juices to allow him more reach inside you. It was almost as if he could hear them beg for him to go deeper, which just wasn't possible with his knuckles in the way, no matter how much he tried.
Forgotten was the pain as pleasure raked its claws through both of you, and yet, Diluc still heard you whine and sob as he scissored his fingers through your inside. It wasn't enough. He opened his eyes he didn't know he had closed, staring at your expression curiously. All he saw was anger and disgust, your teeth bared and ready to snap, while he could feel your nails digging into his arm. And yet, when he found your eyes, he saw a very different version of events. Lust, desire, longing. You wanted more, and Diluc wouldn't refuse such a request.
Slipping a leg between yours, he pried them apart, spreading you open wide. You gasped, squirming and trying to cut off his access, but Diluc only had to lean back to steal your balance, your body reliant on his while he gained more space on your bed. The hardest part was freeing his cock from the restraint of his pants, the fabric soggy with both your juices as well as his own pre-cum pearling off the tip of his engorged cock.
Nothing could have prepared him for the feeling of your wet cunt greeting his eager cock. No imagining of this situation could have come close to the throbbing heat, your walls convulsing around his fingers in eager expectation. Diluc placed his tip against his fingers, planning to slip them out and take the opening to sink into you, but with how wet the combination of blood and juices was, he felt himself slipping away, kissing your clit instead.
And for the first time, you moaned.
It was the sound of angels and everything nice, and he drew his hips back, trying again to fill you with his cock, missing it just an inch. All good things are three, and when he finally plunged it deep inside your pussy, you weren't the only one yowling in pleasure. No matter what he had imagined his first time with you to be, nothing would ever top the mess he caused between your legs, his cock ready to burst as it pulsated violently inside your equally as ready cunt.
He could feel the waves of pleasure going through you, the shudders in your limbs as he began to slowly press forward, kissing the last few inches of his reach. You remained stiff as a plank, but when he pulled out halfway before sinking in deep again, you were unable to keep your mouth shut, an elongated moan making its way to Diluc's ears, letting him know it was the right thing after all.
Immediately, any hesitation fell off him as he dragged his cock out and sunk it back into you. Fingers retreated to your clit, continuing to slip off and assault the little knob over and over while your walls clenched around his shaft, making you feel every one of his throbs and ridges, the heat between you two almost scorching.
Part of him couldn't believe it worked. That he actually managed to help you with this trick. But he'd have been a liar if he said it wasn't a pleasure for him, too. Diluc could never have dreamed about your proficiency in driving him wild, from your hot, puffy pussy wrapping around him to the improper sounds he had never heard coming from your lips before. The blood kept you so wet and loud down there; it was like you were synching your moans with your pussy, sloppy as they were.
It couldn't have been better, a shudder going through you from head to toe, your feet curling as you gurgled. Diluc wrapped his free arm around your throat, pulling you against him and burying his face in your shoulder as you came hard, juices leaking out, red dripping on the clean sheets with the blanket long discarded.
You were gasping for air as he plunged right back into you, waiting but a mere few seconds of yours before pursuing his own orgasm. Selfishly, but unable to stop. Diluc was already too deep in it, quite literally, your orgasm making your inside tight around him, but it posed no challenge with how drenched you both were.
A strained groan escaped Diluc as he buckled, feeling the first squirts of cum shoot out of him before he drew back, popping out of your cunt and covering it in his cum. His tip got stuck on your clit, as his jizz ejected under the pressure of his orgasm, making you mewl as you were once again stimulated. It would be a mess to clean, but it had been worth it.
You two collapsed, spent and dirty, but Diluc slipped his palm back over your lower stomach, rubbing the collection of juices over your soft skin, leaving a red trail. Kissing the side of your head, he was trying to collect his breath and thoughts, barely able to think straight as the feelings of happiness and his relief kept him in a chokehold.
"Better?" he asked, his voice a blissful rumble as he pulled you firmer against him.
But all he was met with was a cold glare and tears in your eyes. "I-I'm sorry," he stuttered instinctively, immediately feeling bad. What had he done to upset you again? Your teeth were biting into your lip as if you were holding back a tirade of screaming, ready to explode.
His cock twitched between your legs, bloody and so, so wet.
"I'll make it better! I promise! I will definitely make it better," he tried to reassure you, dazed with pleasure as he was, unable to see the actual problem with all of this. Your body convulsed in shock as he pressed his tip upwards again, and you gasped loudly as he sunk his inches inside you. This time, he wouldn't fail to make you feel better. And until then, he'd keep going.
All night long, if he had to.
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zerocoded · 1 month ago
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summary: rafayel loves deeply and sometimes he wonders if you even notice him at all.
authors note: oh what i'd do to find out who made this masterpiece of a banner that just happened to pop on my pinterest feed. like why is this fandom so talented?! ugh. also i feel like rafayel should get a different type of attention that he usually gets? idk, i wrote this so we as a fandom could appreciate more of his actual personality and how complex his character is. this is for my rafayel girlies, i hope you all like it ♡
warnings: i know the summary is bad but pls listen to me • angst hehe, i actually was not planning for this to turn out this way • sfw content ahead, i got you babes • hm, adult themes as of in like sad thoughts? lol • my boy here is being melancholic as hell
word count: 0.5k
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rafayel sees the world around him differently than before. between regrets and personal matters, the painter ruminates on his capacity for love every time your eyes meet his. just some centuries ago, his love for you ran painfully through his chest and burned passionately on his hands.
however today, he can't feel the numbness he was used to at his fingertips, the only calluses he was made aware of was the ones he gained through nightly painting sessions.
rafayel's love had a different color in this new lifetime. the cerulean blue that surrounded his vision when he still ached for you every day of his life has lost itself on the modern traffic of a city that he couldn't care less about.
he saw purple everywhere. and somehow his clothes vary from red to white, dark blue to black, beige to the color of your lovely eyes. and just like that, his love ran deeper.
deeper than what he used to, deeper than when his body was trapped on the sand and the only thing he could think about was why did she leave?
he ached differently than before. somehow seeing you fight barehanded with silly monsters that now surrounded planet earth was just as painful as when he was offered to you as a lemurian. you were so different and pretty he could see himself crying the first time he saw you nonchalantly talking to your friends in that college that day.
how could violence and love feel exactly the same when it came to you and him? rafayel could die from his love for you in a thousand different lifetimes and still ache so much when touching your cold skin.
isn't a bite also a touch? - he wondered. you loved him, you said it thrice now, and still the man couldn't shake the feeling of sickness when your back was turned to him at night. your human bareness reminding him of how time had changed both of you. sometimes at night, after you have fallen asleep and his lips were chapped from kissing you so much, he stared at your sleeping form and counted each breath you took so he started to believe this was his life now.
he wondered if you even noticed at all.
noticed how much he troubled thomas to deliver food to you when you were busy at the association, or how he sneakily engraved your name on his artist signature so that you could both live side by side without suffering for once, how he remembered every little thing you shared while drunk, how he randomly brought you flowers throughout the week.
noticed how his voice became serene when talking to you and only you, how he liked to surprise you at your apartment with movie dates and back massages, how he took his time fixing your hair whenever you asked his opinion for an outfit, how you melted everytime he whispered his little promises into your ear.
noticed how he had comitted every inch of you on his brain, not on this lifetime, no - your body still responded the same as it always had been.
he wondered if you noticed how quickly you fell asleep when he started singing or how his little jabs and sassy comments were only a way to distract himself that you were in fact in front of him and, no, you weren’t going to leave him again.
...how his sometimes annoying persona was what he chose to be around you because he saw that that was what you needed this time around. he wondered if you noticed he would love you at any form, life, and color, here and forever.
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author's note: so tell me why i could talk about rafayel lore and how for me its the saddest one among the boys all day? he is not even my first pick but somehow i keep giggling every time he pops up on main story >:( GIVE MY BOY SOME MORE LOVE, INFOLD. also this had turned out sadder than i planned lol. send me a request • my masterpost
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ruershrimo · 9 months ago
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k. nobara x fem!reader | two pretty best friends??
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synopsis: nobara is nothing short of drop-dead gorgeous. you're really gay and super in love even though you think her affection toward you is merely platonic. but then an encounter during the sister school goodwill event makes you discover that you're also super oblivious.
seriously, how do you simultaneously keep those two up?!
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word count: ~2.7k, tws: not really anything besides (noritoshi) kamo trying to hit on you??? it makes sense when you read it lol ('tw kamo' LMAO), reader throws shade (?) on mai and noritoshi, reader is called a ‘little mouse’ but more because of demeanour rather than,,, her figure,,,
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you meet kugisaki nobara for the first time in the concrete jungle of tokyo. there, she looks like magic in a person, pure magazine model material: dyed brown hair cut girlishly short, wild and frayed at its ends like a paintbrush that had accompanied its owner for years; eyes the hue of a saccharine sweet milk chocolate bar; her back straight and confident, bold and all in place, as if she is where she should be and she knows this. the pinnacle of beauty, this girl is, perfect picture on the cover of vogue. 
she’s got skin that looks milky, silky; loved and kissed with her own tender, painstaking care, it seems. there’s a little bump on it— a blemish that goes unnoticed by the boys, covered by concealer, but it just makes her all the more beautiful. 
you’re barely able to talk to her. your brain goes blank as if it’s short-circuited, stricken and frozen in place. she opens her mouth and a melody sings mellifluously like a restaurant cabaret from an old record in your grandparents’ house. 
she’s magic. 
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the second time you meet her, she drags you out shopping and you follow her like a magnet, not even bothering to make a begrudging reply. you’re hauled along by the collar, almost, and you let her. 
“I’m so glad that I’m not the only girl, honestly,” she states as the two of you walk along the pavement, “I can’t imagine having to handle those two all on my own, they must’ve been insufferable! actually, how did you deal with those idiots?” 
you have no idea how, actually. but the boys, savants in some ways yet complete imbeciles in others (oh they really could be bumbling idiots sometimes)— would never understand or comprehend this, any of this. no being of the male species would; they wouldn’t notice the way her eyes catch the light, her irises bursting into a kaleidoscope of colour, or the way she sits so confident of herself, position relaxed and powerful and self-assured. they wouldn’t have the mind to see these things, all right in front of them, and appreciate these traits, admire them. 
your words are almost caught in your throat; your reply comes out mangled and weak like asphyxiated fish from an iron net. “I– I don’t know, honestly,” you stutter, “I just, um, avoided them… but I guess it seems that they’re really close to each other already.” 
“...hey, you okay?” she asks, grabbing hold of your hand. your heart stops and nearly flatlines, heat pooling up in your cheeks. the summer air feels hot. yet it swelters you even more as she inches closer to you, her breath— mint mouthwash and grape-flavoured, mouth-cooling gum— nearly burning literal assaults on your skin. “no need to be shy. I mean, the two of us have got to stick together, you know!” 
“I’m– I’m okay, thanks. sorry.” 
she pulls herself away, and the little circle you have around you misses her in her absence, almost whining as you remind yourself that if she were to get any closer to you in proximity, you could possibly faint, or things could get much worse. 
“but seriously, if you’re a shy person, don’t let people pick on you or intimidate you!” she rolls up her sleeves, an impish yet valiant smile on her face, “I’ll beat them up if they do!” 
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the third time you meet her, she’s teaching you a better way to do your makeup. something simpler, she says, a trick she learned online, something meant to mimic the stuff of movie stars and their picture-perfect, freshly-kissed lips. 
you don’t know how it’s gotten to this, though: your knees bent on the sofa as her legs are split on your lap (it looks less erotic than it sounds, you’re sure, but it still makes your brain feel like it’s being waved and wrung all over like a raggedy piece of cloth). she straddles your sides this way, snug between your lap and your stomach. 
“then you’re supposed to just dab it all around like this,” she continues, the blistering heat in your head spreading through your body pervasively as she presses her thumb to your lips, catching your breath in your throat. she places her hand on the side of your face, her fingers caressing your jawline and her thumb resting on your cheek, so close to your eyes that you can see it in your peripheral vision as you stare up at her, rendered a complete and utter mess. 
“come on, don’t be shy. stay still!” 
“sorry, kugisaki…” 
“hey,” she stops, her eyes boring into yours, unassuming and free of any sort of malintent, “don’t be so polite. you prostrate yourself too much, especially around me. seriously, don’t say sorry for everything, and just call me nobara, okay? we’ve got to help each other out— we’re both the girls of the group, the better half and all that. and we’re most of the only girls in this school. the ratio is crazy. so we’ve got to stick together and stuff, be comfortable with each other. no more apologies or self-doubts!” 
every bit of contact her skin has with yours lays a blooming garden of goosebumps on your skin, from your cheek, sliding all the way down to your shoulder. 
how could you act normal about this?
“see?” she asks, holding a mirror up to your face when she’s completed it. “you look beautiful! woah, I’m so good at this, honestly. it makes you feel pretty, right?” 
you’d never be as beautiful as her. for a long time, you’d thought you’d never be beautiful at all. 
but for once, you do. even if you won’t ever compare to her— and you guess nobody else ever could as well— it’s the way she says it, that gleam in her eye as she flashes you a grin while you marvel at how your face looks when it’s ‘dolled up’. you feel like you’re in a painting. like you’d been loved enough to be put in one. 
so you smile back at her, your teeth bare after years of covering your face in pictures and dreading when you couldn’t. she makes you believe that you could be beautiful. maybe that’s what real beauty is. that’s why she herself is beauty beyond compare. “yeah.” if you think about it and believe it enough, then you could embody it. like this, people would want you because you think they would. like this, you could be knockout because you think you could. you’d always known that her confidence factored into her beauty. 
“if you want, I could teach you how to put more makeup. it’s not that you need it to look ‘pretty’, but it would help you show others how you want to feel pretty. the reason why this looks good on you is because I did it to make your features stand out a little: see? you’ve got these gorgeous lips, so I made them look like that,” she highlights, “oh, yeah— want me to take a picture?” 
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“you like kugisaki?” fushiguro asks. 
you remain silent. 
he rubs at his temples. “oh my goodness, you do. you’re in love with her.” 
“…not like you would understand,” you retort under your breath. he hears you anyway. 
“she’s so beautiful,” you start, sighing, “and so kind and confident. like she can walk into something and know exactly what she needs. she’s put together like that. and she does things with purpose. she doesn’t wander aimlessly or fight without a goal. she’s so good at makeup and fashion and resourceful when it comes to playing by her skills on the field, and she’s so outgoing and welcoming with people who she can get along well with, and she’s so warm—
“oh, I can’t stress it enough, fushiguro. I— she’s literally perfect. I like her so much, I-I feel like I’m on a cloud or something. every day feels like that.” 
“you’re down bad.” 
“I know,” you choke out pathetically. 
“but I’m pretty sure she already thinks the two of you are dating.” 
“…wait, what?!”
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this happens, well— around the fiftieth time you meet her: 
sports festival preparations have been as lively as bubbles in soda pop lately, and you’re sitting down next to her, knees bent on the pavement, mourning a classmate you barely knew and the fact that he could have been a lifelong friend had he not been snuffed out prematurely. as you take another swig of your drink— green tea in the can so that she can have it too if the coca cola’s making her teeth have that weird, fuzzy, plaque formation-indicating feeling like always— she places her hand on yours. 
the heat on your cheeks, the barely formed but nearly forming sweat on your body. that stuff isn’t going to go away, ever. you’re pretty sure of that. even with a thousand indirect kisses from sharing food and even warming up to having her lying back flushed to your lap, it’s never going to go away. each time she looks at you, your gaze is transfixed on hers, your voice nearly comes out mangled, and you feel heat blossoming on the back of your balmy neck. 
“yeah?” you ask. 
“you know, [name], I love you. a lot. like, you’re really special to me,” she smiles warmly, a faint hint of red on her cheeks, just like the rose in her name— though that could just be your imagination. 
“...I love you too.” 
“heh,” she giggles, an impish, graceful, secure sound, like a kiss to your ears, your favourite song playing on the car radio in a memory from several years ago, “I’m glad!” 
it’s wonderful. 
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your worst fears are never confirmed, but there are definitely things that give way to them. 
you’re quite sure that nobara herself isn’t like that— she does talk about having a boyfriend, but she doesn’t actually want to date a boy, you’re sure. the closest thing to a crush that you’ve ever seen her having is her admiration for maki— and you understand that. 
you respect maki: she’s impeccably smart, strong, and everything in between. yet her existence begets a small worry. if nobara crushes on maki and they end up together, what would be of you? 
the only thing you’d be certain of was that you’d keep loving nobara. you’d just want her to be happy, after all— all your tears and mourning for time spent on purposeless yearning, just to see that grin on your face. that would be worth it, a fair trade. 
but this is how you’re proven wrong, and you fall deeper in love with nobara after that. 
before the sister school goodwill event starts, the six of you (plus yuuji— you’d hate to admit it but seeing him again nearly made you break down in tears) have been given the opportunity to meet the kyoto students and welcome them. it goes about as well as you’d expected it to be— at least the physical portion of the fights and conflicts hadn’t already begun there. 
after having met them, you’re sure that half of them are out for blood here. they’re an eccentric crowd, but not just eccentric, per se— borderline terrifying. you’ll be sure to avoid them throughout and just focus on the plan. 
which is why you nearly sprint in the other direction like a deer from wolves when you see kamo noritoshi and zenin mai approaching you. 
and zenin mai has a stunning face. even if it can’t compare to nobara or her sister’s, she’s got a charm to her, a glint in her eye that you’re sure somebody else will appreciate someday. (just not you.) kamo is just there, his eyes closed for some reason even though you’re sure he must be fully capable of keeping them wide open, and his hair in an awful haircut that you fail to understand the appeal of. probably something traditional that his clan wanted. 
“oh?” mai says, a lilt in her tone. you’re going to get bullied, right? your stomach lurches forward and you nearly keel over, fainting— an all too familiar feeling. the popular people in school used to do that, especially the rude athletic boys. she would probably be popular among them, had she been born into a normal life. “what a little mouse. she seems like a doormat.” 
“zenin, teasing our competitors is unbecoming of members from our lineages,” he admonishes before mai groans. “shouldn’t you be with the other tokyo students?” kamo asks. 
why couldn’t you have just had to meet todo? he’d say that you had wonderful taste in women, you’re sure. why the girl with family issues and the guy with family issues and an atrocious haircut? 
“I, um— I got lost. but I don’t know if they’re going to have me anyway, I mean yuuji’s stronger than me so now I’m just going to be the weakest member there. anyway, um, nice chat, I’ve got to go, bye-bye—”  
“no,” kamo denies, “itadori yuuji besmirches the title of ‘jujutsu sorcerer’.” 
“and the title of weakling goes to maki, not you, I’m pretty sure,” mai says, “but you’re an adorable little thing. what’s your name— something-something, [name], am I correct?” 
what were they doing, completing their sentences like that?  did they practise their lines in the morning, staring in the mirror and repeating them over and over? they sound like people who’d be mentioned in the local family restaurant comedian’s shows— no, not even their shows, they’re not entertaining enough to be in their shows. they’d just barely be mentioned in passing in the bits so that five audience members could get an extra laugh they’d eventually forget about. 
“maki’s really strong, though,” you refute, trying to keep your mind calm “and yuuji, too. it’s hard fighting with them because nobody can ever beat them down, really.” 
“durability does not equate to power,” kamo claims. well, and then there’s someone like him, with neither. “and be confident of your own abilities. I can sense your cursed energy from here. it’s impressive,” he remarks. 
“...I appreciate the thought, but really, I have to go now—” 
“oh, stay for a while, won’t you?” mai asks, inching closer to you like a large ant from the corner of a room. how were insects always so good at slipping into houses and mentally impaired when it came to exiting them? 
kamo joins her, gripping your wrist. you’ll have to sanitise your hand and double-wash your sleeve now, especially after what you said (you’d be fine if mai was doing it, but why kamo? kamo of all people?) 
“ah, and this may seem rather spontaneous, but you’re rather beautiful.” really, it only sounds as good as it usually does if nobara is the one saying it. it feels like his words are assaulting your ears. “good luck.” 
“come on, don’t let her go yet—” 
“[name]! you okay?” 
it’s nobara. thank goodness, it’s nobara. 
“what the hell do you two think you’re doing to my girlfriend?!” 
girlfriend?! 
“oh, nothing,” mai goes, “just playing with her a little. she’s a doll. you picked well!” 
the only thing she can play with is her fucking audacity. 
“ugh— let’s go, [name]! don’t care about these people!” she pulls you along by the wrist. 
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“I should’ve made sure you were okay,” she says as the two of you walk to the tokyo students’ gathering point. “I was worried! you’ve got to stick to us next time.” 
“sorry… but they really didn’t do anything. but, um… I think kamo tried to hit on me…?” 
“ew— with that haircut? hate it when twos go looking for tens.” 
“but um…” you hesitate, “about what you said, am I really… your girlfriend?” 
“huh?” she pulls back, “I thought we’d been dating for almost a month!” 
“wait, what—?!” 
“I even told you I loved you! we literally sleep on each others’ laps!” 
“I couldn’t tell if that was platonic or romantic or not! I mean, I don’t mean that I don’t want to date you, I just meant that I didn’t know—” 
“okay,” she exhales, “since we both need things to be clear. want to be my girlfriend?” 
“like, a girlfriend-girlfriend? like, going out on dates and stuff and um…” 
“yeah, a girlfriend-girlfriend. we can go out on dates and do even more than that, maybe,” she greens cheekily. 
“woah… I mean— it’s a dream, I—” 
“so it’s a yes?” 
“yeah—” 
she kisses you and it effectively shuts you up. her lips taste like a latte from the fancy coffee shop the two of you had visited two days before. to think that she’d seen it as a date, while you’d thought the whole thing was just another outing between ‘friends’... 
it’s the best feeling ever. 
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this is going to flop too lmao but back at it w the low-quality posts but
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salparadiselost · 2 months ago
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Lore anon here! I really enjoyed the latest New Gods chapter! I was wondering, is there any extra stuff you can tell us about Bruce's kids that's not spoilers that you won't have space/time for in the fic itself?
Hi! So glad you're enjoying it! It's really taken over my brain and kinda became the only thing I want to work on lol. I'm not sure how much additional lore there is, because so much is being folded into the actual story, but here's some random bits which I'm not sure will come up but they live in my heart.
The gods can turn into animals, they just don't like to do it because animals are 'gross and weird'. Humans are their favourite little guys and cannot fathom why they wouldn't want to be human-shaped. It's the best shape!
Steph has definitely had Tim turn into all types of animals just because she wanted to know what they feel like.
Speaking of Steph, she loves the Manor. She loves exploring their house and going through all the stuff they have picked up over the centuries. Family dinners can be weird though because everyone has a possibility of looking like literally anything.
Steph has never seen Jason look older than fifteen.
Steph runs a TikTok account called "TheWorstParentInJersey" that's entirely committed to have Jason running around as an eight year old and saying 'fuck', 'shit', 'ass', and 'bitch' and doing extremely dangerous-for-a-child activities while Bruce looks placidly confused in the background.
At first Steph thought Augustus was like a dead name for Dick, but it really isn't. He changed it when the Roman Empire fell out of grief, and now it's been two thousand years since he's used it so it just isn't his name anymore. Bruce will even sometimes call Dick Augustus. When she figures this out, she tries to call him Gussy but laughs too much about it before she can make it catch on.
Dick does learn how to float like Clark! There's about a fifty year period before the fall of the Roman Empire where he doesn't touch the ground once. Bruce is so glad those days are over.
Tim is the only one of the godlings that came to Bruce instead of the other way around. He tried to be 'helpful' by showing Bruce exactly how different humans died and Bruce :) hated :) it :). His godhood isn't even particularly violent or dangerous to humans, Tim's just so weird he almost got killed for it.
Bruce always called them 'his little birds' as a nickname because of how they would follow him like ducklings as they grew. That eventually became how other gods knew them, as 'Bruce's Birds'. The Birds eventually evolved into 'the Butcherbird', the Mourning Dove' and 'the Vulture' due to the Birds' natures and how other gods see them. Bruce hates the Butcherbird, Mourning Dove and Vulture names with a burning passion. He hates that the little loving pet name he gave them turned into something so ugly.
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viridwns · 2 years ago
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Things KNY upper moons + Muzan (and Y/N) said, but I'm quoting my friends and I (Like fr, I'm copy pasting the texts)
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Y/N: I'm stressing big time.
Y/N: But you know what's bigger?
Akaza: What?
Y/N: The distance between the ground and the top of the building I'm going to jump off.
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Douma: Time to behead my dolls!
Y/N: That's the most sane thing you have said all week.
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Gyutaro: I'm babysitting right now (Daki is the baby).
Y/N: Slay (Throw the baby).
Gyutaro: What no-
Douma: You scared you can't break my baby throwing record?
Gyutaro: You have a WHAT.
Muzan, done with everyone: Douma having a record in baby throwing is the least suprising thing about him.
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Gyutaro: I hate foreigners.
Y/N: The R in Gyutaro stands for racist apparently.
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Y/N: Guys I want to catch some pedophiles, but I got to lure them in first.
Akaza: There is no need, Douma is already here.
Douma: Excuse you?
Y/N: Don't act all suprised, you are banned from most places here. Parents tell their kids storoes about you so they'll behave.
Douma: Oh yeah lmao, valid.
Akaza: Bitch said valid to me calling him a pedo.
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Y/N: Selling my feetpics are going to make sure Muzan is able to live in a retirement home later in life.
Muzan: I'M 6 MONTHS OLDER THAN YOU (FULL GOVERMENT NAME)
Akaza: YOU SELL FEETPICS?
Douma: CAN I HAVE THEM?
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(We were talking about chocolate balls my friend makes for us every now and then. God bless her innocent soul)
Y/N: Who wants to taste my famous balls?
Muzan: I'm unadopting you.
Akaza: You don't have balls?
Douma: I want to taste them!
Kokushibo: I don't have my balls anymore.
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Douma: Guys, important question, would you fuck your clone?
Hantengu: Have done it, multiple times, would recommend.
Y/N: What if we let your clone and my clone fuck to see if we could start a p*rn career.
Hantengu: Genius idea.
Douma: I am on the FBI most wanted list and even I have to say Y/N's brain scares me sometimes.
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Muzan: Y/N, I will burn your house down if you don't finish school.
Y/N: I love how the alcoholic of this group is trying to stop me from hitting the pole.
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Y/N sending a pic of them on the ground outside with their bike next to them in the middle of nowhere: lol guys guess who got hit and runned.
Akaza: IS 911 ON THEIR WAY?
Y/N: Oh now I remember why I grabbed my phone out of my pocket.
Akaza: (FULL GOVERMENT NAME)
Muzan: Oh yeah lol that was me, sorry about that.
Y/N: It's all good bruh, now I don't have to go to work.
Akaza: HAVE YOU CALLED 911 YET?
Y/N: oopsie daisy.
(Akaza called 911 for them, Muzan did not hit them that was a joke, Y/N had a light concussion and a broken leg. They never found the person who hit them)
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your-unfriendlyghost · 1 month ago
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sodapop patrick curtis thoughts on my desk by the end of the week or ur DONE /j
How I feel about this character
  Uh like he’s perfect and should be my wife i think
  Nah but fr Soda’s one of my favorite characters ever. He’s sweet and all, but he’s so much more than that. Pony says he’s movie-star handsome, that he can go from gentle one minute to “blazing with anger” the next, that he gets drunk just on living, and understands everybody. Soda’s a Kerouac-style “mad one”- “mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes Awww!”
He’s a guy who’s sensitive but strong, a “bawl baby” who’s tough, he’s probably got ADHD and dyslexia, the school system failed him. His folks died and left him holding his brothers together by a thread. He’s pretty but not pretty enough for Sandy to stay. He might end up dying in Vietnam, and thank God that isn’t canon, but it’s still there. He’s happy to live life simply, behind a white picket fence with a wife and kids- hell, he’s thrilled to. But that’s not gonna happen, at least not for a while, because Soda is a tragedy. But he loves his brothers and his friends so much that he becomes a beacon of hope despite it all.
  I love Soda. Honestly, this barely scratches the surface of how I feel about him. I haven’t even touched on the adrenaline junkie stuff or the ways he’s sometimes so relatable to me that it hurts. 
All the people I ship romantically with this character
Steve, and sometimes Evie. 
  I’ve found I’m a friends-to-lovers enjoyer, so Stevepop scratches that part of my brain lol. To have someone who’s got your back through thick and thin, aware of your flaws but in spite of them- well, ain’t that the dream? The angst of it being the 60s makes it interesting to me too, because there’s a lot of ways to handle that. Man, when I first read the book I didn’t get the hype for them at all, but idk. It clicked. I get it now. 
  And then Steviepop is my roman empire lol. It’s all I love about Stevepop, but Evie adds even more complexity. I like her a lot and I love writing her, and I love writing her with characters who I also love. There is absolutely no canon anything to back this ship up. But dammit that’s the point of fandom.
  I will say though that I like exploring Soda’s dynamic with Sandy, but I don’t really ship them. I think the fact that Sandy left him (and I mean cheated on him, even if that can be read ambiguously) implies that there’s something about him that could be undesirable, romantically. I don’t mean cheating is good or that people deserve it, just that in this case, the idea that Soda’s an imperfect boyfriend adds layers to a character who is mostly just positives. We’ll never know Sandy’s POV on it, and I don’t think Soda will either. Sandypop to me will never have closure. That’s what makes it hurt so much. That’s what makes it relatable
My non-romantic OTP for this character
  I mean honestly? Steve. I know this isn’t really fair, since I like Stevepop and all, but idk, there’s no one else who I think it could be. 
  Steve’s a character who’s cocky and troubled and prone to assholeish-ness, but even he loves Soda. He knows about Sandy and gets angry on Soda’s behalf at Pony for mentioning her, which means Soda can tell him- angry, tough Steve Randle- about sensitive stuff. And Soda, who I think is a little in love with everyone he meets and could have anyone he wants, sees this bastard and sticks with him. He sees the parts of Steve that Pony can’t. Parts that make him worthy of being his best buddy.
It’s been said before, but no matter how you look at it, romantic or platonic, they’re each other’s person. I don’t think I could put anyone else in this slot.
My unpopular opinion about this character
 I have a few lol.
1- I see a lotta fics and takes where the whole “drunk on living” thing is a lie Soda feeds Ponyboy, and while I like that take, I do also think it’s totally possible and even plausible that Soda really doesn’t drink and Pony’s view of him (in that aspect) is right.
  I dunno, I mean, I know firsthand what it’s like to just get drunk on adrenaline/excitement. Adrenaline is a hell of a drug, and the rush from it is better than any other high I’ve had. Thrill rides make me act as stupid as someone drinking- when I’m excited, I lose all ability to filter thoughts or fight impulses. I’ve done all sorts of dumb moves- climbing onto tables, singing loudly without knowing or caring if it bothers people, play-fighting my buddies so hard we both get genuinely injured, standing up in a convertible going down the freeway... (This is obviously anecdotal and not real evidence or anything, but like, duh. This is an opinion piece lol.)
  I guess what I’m saying is that there’s a lot of interesting things that can still be done with a Soda who genuinely doesn’t drink. (Or at least not much.)
2- I love darker takes on Soda. I love when people dig into his addictive personality, his temper, his relationship with his looks/self image, all that stuff. I love his flaws, and I especially love when they co-exist with his earnest sweetness and genuine sensitivity. In a few of my fics, I’ve explored some slightly darker Sodas- Sodas who are impulsive, pent up, semi-narcissistic and occasionally manipulative. I haven’t delved deep into it or anything, and I usually keep his character wholesome, but I love it when other folks don’t. 
3- I actually really like the Vietnam War storyline. I mean it hurts, but it seems plausible. I hate the idea of him dying there, but I like exploring the idea of him being drafted. Hell, maybe he even enlisted. The military is known for being a good way to earn enough money to pull one’s family out of poverty, and this paired with the flawed ideas of masculinity and strength of the time lead to a really interesting version of Soda’s future.
  I’m real glad it isn’t canon though.
4- This isn’t technically unpopular but brown eyed Soda will always be canon to me. I like Rob Lowe’s Soda a lot but man….he coulda used brown contacts, yk? /hj lol
One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.
Well I still think it’s a crime his emotional monologue got cut outta the original version of the film. Thank God for the full novel version, but man, still.
Woulda also have been cool to see him mentioned in That Was Then This is Now, but I get that SE Hinton wasn’t trying to make an Outsiders sequel really.
Idk, Soda served his purpose, I think. 
tl;dr- I love him
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sugar-coat-it · 10 months ago
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hi belle! what do you think body piercer is like as a bf 👉👈
also would you do an alphabet or something for him? lowkey dying for more content for him
Hiii!! <3 
Omgggg wait wait let me tell you some details
He’s very much into punk rock (Fugazi, Rage Against The Machine, etc.) and lives in his band tees. Much like the back room of the parlor, a lot of his stuff is covered in stickers for his fav bands. So I think he’d really like to introduce his girl to his music if she’s willing to try it out, it would mean a lot to him!
Whenever he picks her up, he’s always blasting music LOUD so she knows when he arrives 
Big fan of CDs. You can bet your ass that he’s burning CDs for her for all sorts of things. Songs that remind him of her, songs he wants to fuck her to. Some of them are stupid too, like “Good Shit” scrawled in black Sharpie on a disc. Sometimes he’ll scribble little drawings on there too. His handwriting is shit and she loves it.
Also music related, he's an amazing concert bf, always making sure she can see and no one is getting too close to her. He'd be SO PROUD if she went to a punk rock show with him
Now… if she ever did say she was interested in getting another piercing of any kind, he is begging her to let him do it for her (for free, with princess treatment). He’s very much like “fuck yeah, do it” whenever she brings up a tatt or piercing of any kind
Quietly cuddling, he’s tracing her features with his finger, he comes to the bridge of her nose and he’s suddenly like “You have a good nose for a septum piercing” and she’s like “???”
He remembers everything about her, and he makes a point to, even if he has to write sticky note reminders to himself sometimes (ADHD brain as hell)
This man SMOKES. My god his marijuana tolerance level is ungodly. If his girlie is into it too, it would be the joy of his life to roll spliffs for her.
Big fan of getting baked with her, putting on music, and then going off about the album’s impact on the music world because he knows she likes listening to him talk, and none of his boys let him ramble on nearly as much
The late-night diner visits after hotboxing his car go CRAZY (side note, don’t ask me why, but I feel like he has a rubber duck on his dashboard)
One time after a smoke session they built a fort in his room and made out for close to an hour, all giggly and hazy
I think he’d like to let his girl paint his nails. He prefers black, but he wouldn’t mind painting his nails the same shade as girlie’s so they can match
He also let her braid his mohawk once… lol
Tea had sent me an idea about this, but he’d absolutely buy her engraved jewelry. Like… barbells with hearts that have little M’s engraved on them??? Holy shit 
Also, from a discussion with B, HE GOES SO FERAL WHEN SHE GOES BRALESS AND HE CAN SEE HER PIERCINGS THROUGH HER TOP
He keeps a Polaroid picture of her both in his wallet and at the desk in the shop 
If anyone asks about it he’s like “THAT’S THE LIGHT OF MY FUCKING LIFE”
Veeery possessive. Not to a toxic point, but she is his, and he makes sure that everyone is aware in his own little ways 
He likes to be touching her almost all the time. Whether it’s an arm lazily slung around her shoulders or lacing their pinkie fingers together
Really likes love bites. One time he left hickeys in the shape of a heart on her collarbone 
Y’all remember that hip pouch thing he wore during the 2020 era? That but it’s filled with his girl’s things like her lipstick or her wallet so she doesn’t have to carry them
Teenage boy humor. Hella “that’s what she said” jokes
He forgets stuff at her place constantly. She’s starting to wonder if it’s on purpose at this point. Maybe it’s his own way of feeling like a more permanent part of her life
Finding his jewelry on her dresser, his lighter on her coffee table, a hoodie hung by the door
Sometimes he’ll leave his keys and come running back into her place just to end up messily kissing her against the wall
Overall, I think he probably looks a little intimidating to people because he has a mohawk and wears chains and platform boots but he’s such a sweetheart oh my god anon. He just loves her so so so much, and he’s so gentle with her. I love him. So much. That’s my baby.
And as for an alphabet, maybe! I’d be happy to if that’s something you guys would want to see
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