#i still log on every so often

[rosecolouredash]

Rose,

happy halloween! I love your art and I'm glad we're moots. dropping some lindts in your inbox!

🥹🥹🥹

You have always been the sweetest. Happy Halloween and hope all is well 💖

[kkysolo]

hello there! i know that this account is inactive, however i still wanted to message you on the off-chance that you might see it. as a fanfic writer myself i know and understand the stress and pressure of gaining any semblance of a following. i also know how good it feels to know that people love and care for any of my work. i vividly remember reading “the cultist” for the first time. i had to be up for work at eight in the morning and was irresponsible enough to pull an all-nighter in order to finish it all in one sitting. i recommend the fic to people who aren’t even in the fandom simply because it’s so wonderful. i have read fanfiction for over fifteen years at this point, and never- not ONCE- have i adored a fic quite so much. i have re-read it at least thirty times over the last three years (i think i might have a problem). your writing style is absolutely unmatched and if you were to ever publish a book of your own please know that i would be first in line for a signing! despite the fact that you don’t know me personally, your fic has offered me solace in times of great emotional stress and major life changes. in turn, YOU have been there for me during these times as well. thank you for being an amazing writer. thank you for being brave enough to put your work out there. thank you for being kind to yourself and knowing when to step away from this blog/fandom. thank you- from the bottom of my heart- thank you. you’re awesome :)

hi there, love!

i've read and re-read this message a few times now, and i still don't think anything i could say in words would communicate how it made me feel. but it made me feel a lot.

the fact you still think of it, re-read it, circle back to it, recommend it - that is truly special to hear, and i'm so, so thrilled to know it stayed with you. i'm even more affected by the fact it was with you during hard times (i wrote it during my own hard times, so it was there for both of us!). i'm rooting for you, and i hope those times have passed for you.

maybe one day (because i never say never), i'll return to it. but for now, i'm just so glad that it found its way to you, and anyone else who enjoyed it.

as for my own book - maybe one day! 🤍

thank you so, so much for your kind words and for the support. it genuinely means the world. even though i'm not active here anymore, i'll always be connected to those stories - especially the cultist - and to the people i met here along the way.

above all else, thank you for everything!

i think i'll come back to this message quite a bit. thank you 🤍 x

[limielle]

idk i feel like so much discourse could be easily minimized if people learned to say "i think" instead of "it is"

[arctic-hands]

I learned what a bullet journal was by watching a few YouTube artists set theirs up and my algorithm spiraled out of control from there so I guess I have all the bujo influencers to thank for getting into it because it has been a godsend so far on my third attempt, but damn if the over emphasis on aesthetic over the actual practical organizational aspect of it doesn't rankle me a bit

[thirty rambling tags later] huh. I didn't know there was a thirty tag limit in all the years I've been on tumblr. Whatevs I can't copy paste the tags onto the main body because I'm on mobile and I don't want to write it out again so I'll just summarize the last bit here:

If you are browsing the bujo tag because you feel bullet journaling will help you but you feel intimated because you don't think you can make it look pretty, or that the bullet journal method could never help you because it looks exhausting or the inspo you see doesn't cover what you need, I am pleading with you to ignore all the pretty inspiration, take the most common and even original Ryder Carroll formats and spreads with a grain of salt and eliminate or change them as needed, and talk to people who have similar needs than you even if they don't bujo and suss out what's important to keep track of. My bujo is eighty percent important medical bullshit, because that's what I need more than a book tracker. You prolly have your own unique needs. And hell, if you want a book tracker then add a booktracker. It's your bujo to format and plan out.

So like if you want to start bullet journaling, go to Michaels and get a seven dollar Artist's Loft dot grid journal. Or a binder you have left over from school years past and print out your own dot grid paper if you have enough ink and paper and printer that can do double sided (Kevin McLeod's site I forget the name of has free adjustable dot and other grids I've used), or buy a pack of 8.5x11 dot grid paper, and grab a crappy hole punch that just barely does the job. Get yourself a nice pen you think looks and feels nice in your hand and on the paper–or if that doesn't matter to you go get pack of Bics or even pencil if that's what you prefer (I use a pencil for things I can't have be permanent, like temporary meds or the dates of yearly vaccines). If you're twitchy about messing up then get the cheapest wite out they have (but don't worry about messing up especially if you're not even showing it off to anybody). A cheap yellow highlighter if you think it'll help. And a ruler if straight lines are important to you. I lost mine so I just wobble my lines now I don't care (and it's marginally easier to get a line adjacent to straight with a dot grid)

Anyway. If you want to bullet journal but don't know where to start or how to make it pretty or how to make it work for your needs, just try it in the cheapest way possible and rearrange the guts of the bujo as you see fit. And don't worry about the optics as long as you can make sense of your methods and writing.

(and for the love of God if you're bipolar don't make an hourly mood tracker yes our moods can and will fluctuate throughout the day but goddamn was that a bitch to log and abandoned a few weeks after inking it out)

[pierswife]

I am once again losing my mind over this fucking card

[wintersoldeer]

trying to use tumblr on my ipad: a moodboard

[iiboronii]

HI HELLO I'M BACK THE SEMESTER DIDN'T KILL ME!!!!!!

I'm expecting crazy life lore updates in the comments as I work through my many notifications that I've been ignoring!!!!

[teafiend]

郭靖 and 黃蓉 are so precious 🥰🥰🥰 After literally decades they still inspired mushy feelings 🥹🥹🥹

HR had an eye for the gem-in-the-rough and a wise understanding of what made someone “good”, which GJ had in spades. GJ also knew a treasure when he was made to realize it 😆 Perfect combination ⭐️✨☺️

Edited after the second episode (2024, June 20th): Oh, oh, they really went the flashbacks route ✨⭐️

(The way they shortened and summarized the significant parts of the story were quite good, I thought, if quite a bit were lost along the way). Well done 👏🏽

[idiopathicsmile]

School Gymnastics: A Tragicomedy

So one day when we were in third grade, our P.E. teacher divided us into girls and boys. (I don’t remember what the boys had to do. Wrestling? Tackle football? I don’t know, probably not at age nine, but that’s not the point. Gladiatorial combat? I still don’t really understand kids’ sports.)

What matters for this story is that all the girls had to do gymnastics. Now—and I suspect this won’t surprise you if you know literally anything about me—I was always terrible at any form of school athletics. I am intensely, almost impressively uncoordinated. This doesn’t affect my life much at 36, but it was often a miserable way to be a kid. The only playground game I liked was playing pretend, because when you are playing pretend, you don’t have a bunch of people ostensibly on your side screaming in your ear, “Pretend faster! Pretend over there! Pretend with greater accuracy!”

Anyway, gymnastics and my clumsy, doughy little body. I couldn’t do a cartwheel. I couldn’t do a backwards somersault. I couldn't do any of it. We had an entire unit on this business and I literally did not learn how to even safely attempt a single move besides the log roll (lie flat and roll sideways on your belly). In retrospect, this seems like maybe it was in part a teaching problem, not a me problem, but that’s actually not the point either.

The point is, at the end of the unit, we were told to divide ourselves into little teams and choreograph a group gymnastics routine. My group, faced with my long list of limitations (more limitation than girl, really) decide my role will be to just forwards-somersault around the rest of the group as they do their moves. (This is itself kind of embarrassing but trust me, it is but the appetizer.) My friend Ashley has the Lion King soundtrack and we all agree that it is a great choice. The movie has only come out a couple of years earlier, and it of course features some funny, peppy options. 'Hakuna Matata'? 'I Just Can't Wait to Be King'? It's all coming together.

Carried on a wave of youthful enthusiasm, none of us even think to double-check which track Ashley has picked. Foreshadowing!

So the day of the performance comes. Another group goes right before us. They had picked “Wannabe” by the Spice Girls, which was a huge hit at the time. I mean, it still is because it’s a classic, but then it was big and new. They step onto the mat and immediately begin to do choreographed dance moves, which they have worked into their routine. We had not thought of this. Oops. Dance moves, of course! So they incorporate the necessary gymnastics, it goes over really well, the energy is high, and now it’s my group’s turn.

I take my place at the edge of the mat, the mat we are required to stay on for the length of the piece. Ashley cues up the track she’d chosen.

A song starts up. Instantly, I recognize it from the movie. It is the very slow instrumental music that plays when Simba realizes his dad is dead.

‘Well, this is not optimal,’ I think. I've been on this planet for nine years; I can see that much. But it’s too late to change the track, and so I tell myself, ‘It’s okay. I’m a performer. I can sell this.’ I put on an extremely solemn face and begin to execute a series of the world’s saddest somersaults.

Friends, when I say “sad” I mean it, in every possible sense of the word. Picture a nine year old with the gravest possible affect, determinedly doing somersaults to the slowest, most serious music she can imagine, in a careful ring around her friends who have actually learned any gymnastics whatsoever. Okay, now as the music starts to pick up and get more hopeful, imagine she gets real dizzy and in front of everyone, she rolls all the way directly off the mat, careening dangerously towards the assembled students.

Somehow, I roll myself back onto the mat, we survive what feels like hours of humiliation, we stagger away, and I blessedly avoid adding “puking my guts out in front of all of my peers” to my very short list of gymnastics tricks.

Later, I asked Ashley what in the world possessed her to choose that song.

“It didn’t have any words,” she said.

(There was absolutely no rule against using songs that had lyrics.)

Anyway, that’s why being an adult is better than being a kid.

I may have to do laundry and make my own dinner and wrestle with more complex existential angst, but you know what I haven’t been asked to do in like 26 years? Somersault for three minutes straight to the musical shorthand for “this cartoon lion cub has no choice but to process the weight of unimaginable grief for his dead dad.” And you know what? If I live another 50 years, I can be pretty confident nobody will ask me to do it then, either.

[rizardofether]

Happy late 4 year anniversary Ty Momm! I'm just 2 months late to it. I still have him in game. I never did anything with him. He has been greeting me every morning as I log in for dailies for 4 whole years. Wow!

Got my kuva lich and

when mom says it’s your turn on the xbox

[chxrryhansen]

𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐃𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐍

Pairing; Dark!Rafe Cameron x Innocent!Reader

Warnings; CNC!!!! DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT. smut, extremely dark themes, unprotected sex, public sex, choking, drugging? (rafe manipulates reader into snorting a line) degrading terms (slut, whore) loss of virginity, tiny bit of blood, breeding kink, size difference, daddy kink, dumbification, dacryphillia, no aftercare!! i think thats it? Minors please DNI!!!!!

Summary; Based on x.

authors note; i really thought about never finishing this because i just haven’t had the motivation or wanted to write in quite a while. but i’ve been neglecting you guys! so i tried my best to finish it, however i literally hate this fic so much so please don’t come at me bc i know its shit��� its around like 1.3k words so… take it or leave it ig.

“Hey, so uh, you come here often?” The boy says, rubbing his nose with his right finger while motioning with his beer filled hand to the party further down the beach.

Your friend had dragged you to one of the weekend bonfires at the beach, kooks only of course. Which is exactly what you were, a sheltered, spoilt, kook. Right down to the core.

Your family had given you everything you ever wanted growing up, paying for homeschooling from the best private tutor on the island, buying you whatever the new pair of heels on the market was, but that never deterred your sweet heart.

You weren’t a prude and even though you were, you didn’t act spoilt, you appreciated everything your family did for you. You didn’t have many friends considering the private life you lived. Your best friend was your neighbour, both of you having grown up together, your father and hers both being in the same business really tied the strings in your friendship.

She was quite the opposite of you, partying every weekend, hanging out with boys and drinking to the point she was incapable of walking. Long story short, she had begged you to come, a promise of a sleepover and movie night afterwards.

Except that wasn’t the case. Within 15 minutes she had found a new man to latch onto, leaving you sitting by yourself on a wooden log infront of a small campfire someone must’ve ditched.

You looked up, a tall muscular boy with a backwards cap staring down at you, his pretty blues lighting up in the reflection of the fire. You didn’t answer him, being too caught up in the flare of his strong presence. His aura was engulfing, your body instantly being drawn to him.

You didn’t know it of course, but Rafe did.

One look at your pretty face and the sweet scent of your purity and he just knew he had to have it. A smirk appeared on the boys face as he took a seat on the log next to you, his eyes never leaving your own.

“Gonna’ answer me, sweetheart?”

“Uhm, n-no not really, it’s my first. My friends around here somewhere… not sure where she went.” You murmured.

Rafes smirk widened, how blessed he was to have stumbled upon a sweet, innocent, little bunny like you.

“S’okay. I can keep you company. Name’s Rafe.”

The boy reached into his pocket and pulled out a little white baggie filled with a powdery substance. Noticing your stare he asks “You want some?”

“What is that stuff?” you mumble, knitting your eyebrows together in confusion.

“This shits the good stuff, s’ like powdered sugar. Gets you feelin’ real good, one line of this and you’ll feel on top of the world, sweetheart.” he smirks moving closer to the point your knees touch, yet his eyes still don’t leave your own.

“C’mere, lay back a little.” and do you do.

Without question.

Which of course stirs Rafe’s dominant instinct, he just cant stop thinking about shoving you onto your knees and fucking your throat til you choke on his fat cock.

But he’ll save that for later.

Rafe proceeds to pour a little powder onto your chest, sitting perfectly above your perky tits. He then reaches into his pocket and picks out a bank card, then using it to create a smooth line on your chest.

He moves in. Snorting the line right off your tits. A tingly feeling appeared in between your thighs. The sensation of his hot breath on your chest making your own increase.

He leans back and looks towards the sky, his curtains framing his face as he does so, lifting a finger and closing a nostril he sniffs deeply, sighing in relief afterwards. “See, easy as that. Your turn, beautiful.”

“M’kay” you shrug.

Hook. Line. Sinker.

Rafe shifts on the log, lying down on his back and spreading his lets wide. He repeats the process on his abs, pouring the coke, creating the line and then ushering you forwards.

“Remember. All you gotta’ do is cover one of your nostrils, and use the other to sniff it right up. You got that?”

“Mhm” You nod excitedly.

“Ah ah ah. Use your words.”

“Yes Rafe. I got it.” You whisper, your pretty doe eyes staring up at him.

“Good girl.” He groans as you begin to snort the coke from his abs. His cock is painfully hard which obviously you didn’t notice, his pre cum leaking from his swollen tip, desperate to have your soppy cunt wrapped around it.

Within 5 minutes the drugs had hit you.

Your head was spinning and your control of your own body wavy, your movements restricted.

“I-i feel kinda fuzzy. Don’t like it…think i’m gonna’ go home now.” Rafe debates begging you to stay, but a better plan crosses his mind.

An eery smirk appears across his handsome features. “How about i walk you, s’ not safe for a pretty girl like you to be out in the dark all by yourself.”

The second you’re out of sight from the beach a hand wraps around your mouth, Rafe’s body pressing your own against a tall tree, blocking any escape. Your eyes go wide in fear, tears beginning to well up as you attempt to scream.

Your tears should make him irritated, angry even. But it doesn’t. It only turns him on more. His dick growing harder by the second.

“Shut the fuck up or i-i swear to god i’ll slit your throat. Can’t believe you kept this innocent act up. I can practically smell how soaked you are you fuckin’ slut.”

Before you can even think of screaming you’re cut off by your own wail as Rafe’s cock disappears between your folds. He bottoms out in one harsh thrust, your legs become slack as he grips your hips, holding you upright on his length.

“So fuckin’ tight. Gonna’ fuck you so good you’ll forget your own god damn name.” He growls.

The sound of clapping skin begins to echo, the skin of your ass turning raw due to his brutal thrusts. The tears don’t stop, only beginning to mix with the drool and sweat leaking down your face. Your wails and whimpers turn to moans as your cunt soaks his length.

Rafe knew you were perfect, that’s why he picked you. But this just proved him right.

“Fuckkk. You like that? Who knew you’d be such a dirty whore f’ me.” He chuckles, throwing his head back in ecstasy, yet his thrusts don’t slow. His pace almost animalistic.

The sensation of your pussy clenching tells Rafe what he wanted to know.

Rafe lets out a loud groan. “Jesus. You’re gonna’ fuckin’ cum aren’t you? Getting off on your rapists cock. Ask me. Ask daddy if you can cum.”

His hand wraps around your throat, squeezing tightly as your eyes roll to the back of your head.

“Please can i cum daddy? I need it s-so bad.” You whine, shifting your hips back and forth, fucking yourself on his shaft, your back still pinned against the tree.

“Cum. Cum for daddy. Holy shitttt, pussys grippin’ me like a fuckin’ vice.”

Your cream coats his cock as you scream, biting your lip harshly to try and muffle your pleasure.

“Wouldn’t be surprised if the whole beach heard that from here you dumb slut.” He groans, lifting a hand to fist your hair, tugging harshly.

His thick cock continues to pummel your insides, your pussy throbbing as he fucks you through your high.

As Rafe looks down he notices a glint of red at the base of his shaft. The sight of your cream and blood alone brings him closer to the edge.

“Gonna’ cum in this pretty cunt, can’t wait to fill you up, baby. Daddy’s gonna’ cum.”

His release is met with a loud growl, his balls throbbing as his load fills you, thick ropes of his hot cum shoot into your pussy.

“That’s ittttt. fuck. Taking my cum like such a good girl.”

Rafe is slow to pull out, inching you off his cock as he pants trying to catch his breath. His hold however never leaves you, ensuring you don’t fall due to the brutal fucking you just received.

His attention is grabbed at the sound of your sobs, his thumb swiping over your cheek and collecting your tears. His pretty blues stare into your own, almost waiting for you to run.

But you don’t.

“Shh Shh Shh. No more tears. Daddy’s gonna’ take care of you from now on.”

[r0semaryt3a]

Loved your dating hc's!!! They all felt really convincing and in character 💕💕 How do you think the pt (preferably chrollo, uvo, phinks and feitan if thats too many) sleep next to u?? are they cuddlers, kickers, white noise users, midnight bathroom breakers, snorers or whatever else?

Ahhh glad to hear it!! I’ve only really wrote a lot about Chrollo so I was worried the others were OOC-

I’ve only really been thinking of writing for Chrollo, Feitan, Phinks, Shalnark, Machi and Paku but given as you asked for Uvo I’ll add another onto that list! (Small spoiler warning: I love the troupe, but they’re all messy sleepers and I won’t be convinced otherwise!)

Chrollo

He definitely has a night mask, incense and all that to help him doze off. Chrollo is a chronic suffer of predormitional insomnia: his mind runs a million a minute, man is NOT used to sleeping a healthy 8hrs.

You can guarantee if Chrollo falls asleep before you (a very rare event) you’ll find him stiff as a log. He falls asleep in whatever position he’s in and will stay there until he wakes up. Honestly, it’s a wonder he isn’t ridden with all sorts of issues (get him a chiropractor one day.)

On the other 364 days a year when he falls asleep after you, well aren’t you just the perfect little teddy bear! His arms are always wrapped around you tightly.

If you happen to be a light sleeper? You’ll definitely wake up in the middle of the night to his face buried into the crook of your neck; fingers tapping away at your abdomen as his breathing settles, the smell of lavender drowning out any other senses. So definitely a cuddler. (I will die on this hill)

Sometimes he might even pepper your neck with kisses if he notices you’re awake.

If you’re a heavier sleeper? You better get used to waking up in the morning under a vice like grip, a mat of black hair brushing against your cheek and -whether he’s awake or not- you’re not getting out of it

Big spooner, you could be twice the height of him and he’d still demand it.

Not much of a snorer, maybe the few light hitches here and there but overall he’s sound asleep.

Most nights when Chrollo can’t sleep, he’ll sit up with a book in one hand and his other arm wrapped around your sleeping form. Sometimes he’ll doze off and sometimes he’ll only be brought away from his book by your stirring.

On particularly bad nights, where his insomnia truly flairs up, you’ll have to listen to a plethora of podcasts or “soothing sounds” for him to actually sleep. And yes, you’ll have to listen to them. There’s something innately intimate about having you indulge him in his interests: makes it far easier to sleep.

Feitan

You cannot tell if this man is awake or asleep 9/10.

“You sleep. I watch.” Kind of deal, he has many things to preoccupy himself with: like watching you! (In a: ‘someone takes even one step in this general direction, you’ll have a lullaby of screaming to doze off to’ kind of way)

It’s not that he can’t sleep, it’s that he doesn’t want to. Feitan sees sleep as a waste of time, it bleeds days into days and he could be spending that time well, instead of sleeping.

Everytime he wakes up he mentally kicks himself for having made such a waste of time

That’s where you come in! Hope you’re willing to have a human sized cat latched onto you every single night! Big spoon, little spoon, doesn’t matter to him: you’ll wind up with him clinging onto you for dear life regardless.

Despite this fact however, you’ll never know the plethora of times he wakes up in the middle of the night, painstakingly, detaches himself from you and paces around the room feverishly. Muttering about who knows what, head flicking to every angle at even the minutest of sounds. Feitan doesn’t like not being alert: loathes it, so this is his way to regulate the nerves that rest often brings.

Feitan is a very light sleeper, any slight movement may set him off and cause him to completely switch back on (sleep maintenance insomnia hits him hard).

He doesn’t strike me as a snorer but definitely isn’t quiet, sounds like a Guinea pig sometimes. A total teeth chatterer. Seriously, you’ll wake up and hear a light ‘Tch Tch Tch’ from wherever the hell he’s grabbing onto you tonight.

Will not ever wake up in the same position he falls asleep in (not that you’ll ever know that fact, he’s always looking over you long before you’re awake.)

Trust me: you’ll know if Feitan has a bad dream. His claws (yes claws) will be digging into you, his hold on you tightening with a particularly sharp ‘hiss’ of his teeth.

Likelihood is: his sleeping patterns will leave more marks on you than any other activities ever will. But, don’t worry! It shows he cares (I think?).

Phinks

Kicker, oh he is a real kicker.

You’ll wind up waking up off the bed more times than you will on it.

On and off cuddler, there’s very few times that you’ll fall asleep cuddling but by god is it a wild guess as to whether you’ll wake up doing so.

Phinks will fall asleep with his back towards you, teetering off the edge of the bed. And, In the matter of minutes can have one leg half way across the bed, the other swung over the edge, left hand across his face, right on his chest, mouth slack and whole body at a 45* angle.

Other times, you’ll find a knee digging into your back as he’s (very awkwardly) cuddling you from behind.

Surprising the masses (not): he snores. Has a whole box of nose strips to stop this.

Despite all of these, interesting, idiosyncrasies. The few times you fall asleep cuddling: he’s an entirely different sleeper. It’s like he takes a page out of Chrollo’s book and doesn’t move an inch (aside from rolling, he’s a total roller).

The snoring won’t stop though.

Doesn’t need anything to help him sleep, his head hits the pillow and he’s out like a light. Real heavy sleeper as well, you could roll him off the bed with an almighty thud and he’d still be sound sleep. It’s actually fairly endearing.

Will sleep for 6 hours, wake up for 1, roll around for a bit, settle down and then sleep for another 2.

Best pray you’re a heavy sleeper: that’s all the advice I can give you.

Honestly? It’s like sleeping next to a bear, vaguely adorable as much as it has you fearing for you life (and place on the bed).

Uvogin

If Phinks is like sleeping next to a bear, Uvo is a bear hug.

You’ll find your place settled neatly against his chest, as if he’s one of those comically large backpacks (like Johnny’s from Hotel Transylvania). Don’t worry about anything, truly, you’ll be snug as a bug in a hug.

Surprisingly, not a snorer (when sober at least). Often needs noises to fall asleep to though. If there’s not calamity afoot then Uvo tends to get angsty; you may have to deal with the occasional outburst.

So, you often have loud games or shows blaring in the background as he rests his chin on your head. Uvo doesn’t fall asleep easily, meaning there’s very few times that you can turn the noise off before you head to sleep yourself. You best get used to sleeping to the volume of a rock concert! (with his constant screeching he blew his own ear drums)

Invest in earbuds of some kind, it’ll help the both of you.

The LOUDEST snorer when drunk. I mean LOUDEST. Cotton buds line your bathroom cupboards for whenever he drinks, you’ll have to pick out bits of cotton on particularly bad nights.

Absolute hoarder. Whether it be you, a pillow, the duvet, he’ll have it and he isn’t letting it go. It’s honestly quite comforting, his presence isn’t exactly small, so with this hoarding comes a sense of security.

He’s surprisingly gentle as well, it doesn’t feel infantilising, more like you’re something from a heist that he doesn’t want to break.

Can fall asleep anywhere there’s noise. It’s a skill, you’ll find him contorted in a corner just so long as the TV’s humming in the background. Don’t think of moving him, you won’t.

Probably takes a good few trips to the loo during the night. Which, unfortunately for you, given your nightly position: leads to you being woken up every time he does.

Shalnark

Not a fan of cuddles, like at all. Shalnark is quite the squisher when you’re both up and about or even just lounging on the covers, but when it comes to sleeping? He’ll do it, sure, but he won’t be too thrilled most nights. There’s the odd time that he’ll be uncharacteristically for the idea, pulling you close and running off a mile a minute! He doesn’t tend to actually sleep those nights, more ramble on like you’re at some two person sleepover; the sentiment’s there nonetheless.

Despite this fact, he’s very specific with having at least something pressed up against his back -little spooner- and will get agitated if this requirement isn’t met.

Podcasts, lots of podcasts. Shalnark has about ten to twenty playlists that he’ll be sat scrolling through: trying to find the one he wants to sleep to. You’ll never be privy to these of course, he tends to keep a pair of headphones shoved in some drawer.

Oftentimes, before even attempting to sleep, he’ll be scrolling through some forum or busy doing: something. Though, for some reason you don’t remember any of his chronic scrolling…

Bathroom breaker, it’s nothing annoying but you’ll never not notice the shift in weight, as he swings his legs off the bed and heads to the bathroom. He’s always careful not to make too much noise, which winds up causing more in the process.

Has a small assortment of glasses of water that will accumulate through the week, all filled to different volumes. He swears he’ll drink them! He never does. It just ticks that little box of ‘just incase’ and he can’t sleep without it. Same with most other amenities.

Late sleeper, this man will never be up before you. That may be attributed to the fact he never falls asleep before you, but who’s to say!

Machi

The fact you don’t have single beds is both a gift to thank her for and a curse. Machi is a sleep tosser; she tosses a lot.

You tend to sleep on opposite ends of the bed. This is both in part to her overall distaste of sleeping together and the kicking. Oh boy, the kicking.

You know how the immune system can sometimes misinterpret things as threats, causing autoimmune reactions? That Machi when asleep. It’s like a subconscious instinct, a defence mechanism is you will; it’s certainly a good one! It’s just, not always needed. Especially not when you wake up at 4:34am after a particularly sharp jab at your side.

Though, some nights she’s stiff as a board! Not one movement or peep. As if death herself had stole Machi away.

She’s not a particularly picky sleeper, Machi can rest to almost anything. However, there is one thing that seems to expedite the process. Fire - whether the simple crackling singing off in the distance, or the chocking scent of smoke pervading the air. It seems to calm Machi, there’s no foreseeable reason for it. She just, likes fire.

L i g h t sleeper, you can’t count the amount of times she’s jolted awake, swearing she heard something. Windows, doors and anything else that might throw the room into disarray or stir up noise are a must close.

Sleep mutterer. It’s a rare occurrence, but Machi will sometimes have whole conversations with the air. You’re usually both asleep when these conversations take place (there was once that you overheard one to its completion. You’ll never tell her of course).

Pakunoda

Incense galore.

Seriously it’s everywhere.

Pakunoda needs some form of soft scent to lull her to sleep. This often comes in the form of floral scents, but can branch off into other soothing smells. Her particular favourites include cedar and amber.

You wouldn’t describe what you and Pakunoda do as cuddling, per se. She treats you more like a support pillow than anything else. Arms wrapped around you tightly and chin resting upon your head.

Neither of you will be able to move an inch throughout the night. Pakunoda has a very specific pre sleep schedule that she’ll run through every night (including final bathroom breaks, cleaning and small talk) and after that, it’s lights out. It doesn’t matter if you wake up and need something: she’s out cold. You might be able to escape, if you can pry yourself out. But just know: getting back in the same position will prove twice as difficult.

Not a snorer, hell, you can hardly hear her breathing most nights. If it weren’t for the subtle rise and fall of her chest against your back, you’d question if she even was.

Up long before you are, usually has one half of the bed already made (haphazardly as not to disturb you.)

I had a lot of fun doing this one; might return to it for further Troupe members at a later date, so cheers for the ask Anon! (Little irrelevant thing I just want to mention for future reference: if any PT ask includes Hisoka or Illumi please specify as such.)

[rueclfer]

shoujo touya save meeee pleaseee shoujo touya save me from the trenchessss

pull me through // touya todoroki

You awkwardly stood a few steps behind Touya as he felt around under the doormat for the spare key to his home. You two got along quite well for a couple of students who were on the opposite sides of the rankings, but never close enough to visit each other's home like this.

You were student council president, and Touya got suspended for setting the toilet on fire last year. That is how far you two were.

"Alright, come on in." He holds the door open for you to walk in before him.

At first glance, it seemed close to extravagant, but the closer you looked, it felt cozier by the second from the amount of framed photos, artwork, and trinkets displayed on every wall and counter.

In the living room, his younger siblings were all lined up like ducks as if they were awaiting for your arrival.

"Hi Fuyumi." You threw a wave at her.

"Hi Y/N!" She beams back.

You two worked on the student council together, so you were already close with her despite being a year older.

"Wait, this is Y/N?" The middle child with all white hair exclaims.

Fuyumi quickly swats her brother's arm, shushing him.

"Oooohh. Y/N, I know you!" The littlest one states, stepping up to you with an All Might figurine in hand.

"Oh do you?" You cock an eyebrow at Touya as he takes your jacket to put up by the door and your school bag off of your shoulder. You bent down to his level. "Your brother talks about me often?"

"No I don't." He quips before he could answer for himself, shooting a glare in their direction. "I don't know what either of them are talking about."

"Meet my ball and chains." He huffs with a hint of a smile in his voice. "Shouto, Natsuo, and you already know Fuyumi from your nerd thing."

"Can I play with them?" Shouto asks, moving over to Touya to tug on his pant leg.

"No you can't, turd. We have to work on a project so none of you bother us. Kay?" He motions you to follow him upstairs, slinging both of your bags over his shoulder.

You quickly follow behind him. "But maybe after!" You call out from midway up the stairs, giving them a final wave.

Upon entering his room, he sets your bag on his desk, letting you take the seat while he settles on his bed right next to you, whipping his laptop open.

Despite being somewhat of a delinquent, you knew that Touya was smart and had capabilities to be top of the class if he really cared to. You had no worries about this project, but the circumstance of being alone in his bedroom on the other hand, almost made you nervous,

"Your siblings seem to like me." You broke the tense silence as you two logged onto your presentation. "You definitely talk about me, huh?"

"It's probably Fuy. She's a big fan of yours." He glances over at you. "She talks about you way too much around here."

"You got a problem with that?"

"What, like I don't get enough of you at school?" He chuckles, biting on the end of his pen. "Don't I, Prez?"

"Lucky you, then. Not many people have that kind of access to me. I'm pretty high in demand, if you ask me." You tease back, meeting his eye for a moment before returning your attention back on your screen.

He pushes his laptop out and leans back in his bed, propping his upper half up on his elbow to face you with his pen still hanging out of his mouth.

"I wonder how those people feel about you spending all that time with such a loser like me? Not scared to tarnish that golden reputation of yours?"

"You give yourself too much credit." You laugh. "You've been such a good boy lately, I don't think anyone really bats an eye." You say sweetly, swiveling your chair to fully face him.

He chuckles to himself and diverts his eyes away from yours as a rush of blood floods to his cheek.

"Anyways..." He clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck as his ears slightly flush into red. "Back to this bullshit."

You two talk back and forth about the project for a while, slipping into silence every now and then as you work on your respective slides.

In your peripheral, you noticed that every so often, he would glance up at you from his screen like clockwork. It makes you a bit too self aware of yourself, forcing you to keep your posture straight, not to bounce your leg too much, and to keep your fidgeting at bay.

"You're grinding your teeth." He mutters, breaking the silence. "I can hear it, like sandpaper."

"It's just a focus thing." You reply, biting the inside of your cheeks to combat the habit.

"I can't stop looking at them in class.." You hear from outside of the door, paired with the boys' giggling. "...They're all I can think about, I feel so stupid."

You and Touya both stop shoot each other a confused glance, not quite sure what Natsuo and Shouto were going on about in the hallway.

"What are they doing?" You lean in and whisper.

"I don't fucking know?" He shrugs. "Maybe reading one of Fuy's books?"

"How cute." You chuckle, returning your attention to the project.

"Prez would never want a guy like me. I want to do better, but I'm fucking hopeless." The boys start, their footsteps running up and down the hallway this time.

"Natsuo! That's a bad word, you can't say that!" Shouto cries.

Your eyes widened and glanced over at Touya, whose face had now drained of color, jaw slightly gaped open.

He slams his laptop shut and frantically feels around under his pillow and covers, as if he had misplaced something.

"What're you looking for?" You asked, watching him rummage through his school bag after going through his bed.

"I'm going to fucking kill them." He mutters, throwing his bag on the floor. "I'm actually going to kill them."

He walks over to swing his bedroom door open, revealing the two boys leaning against the wall with a book in hand, flipping through the pages.

"Where the fuck did you two get that!?"

The two younger boys scream and scurry down the hall with Touya right on their tail. You follow them out into the hallway, watching them run a muck around the house.

Natsuo and Shouto eventually circle their way back to Touya's room, shoving themselves right behind you a second before Touya is able to get to them.

"Guys?" You look down at Shouto clutching your leg and Natsuo breathing hard, peering over your shoulder. "What did you two do?" You put a hand down on the top of Shouto's head, tapping it to get his attention up at you.

"Natsuo did it!" He cries, burying his face into your side. "I didn't do anything." He muffled into your shirt.

"You're the one who gave me his diary, you liar!" Natsuo reaches over and flicks Shouto's head. "Shouto did it!"

"What the hell is going on?" Fuyumi comes out of her room.

"These fuckers went through my things." Touya huffs, face now red. "Y/N. Move over please." He inches closer.

"No! Y/N please!" Natsuo cries behind you, clutching on you tighter.

"Whoooaa. Okay, okay let's relax everyone." You nervously chuckle.

"You, take a step back." You put a finger on Touya's chest, lightly pressing him to take a couple steps back into the hallways.

You noticed Touya clenching onto a journal so tight that his knuckles were white, jaw tense seething with anger.

"You two, go with your sister." You pried the two kids from your side, ushering them towards Fuyumi, in which she properly slapped the back of their heads the moment they got to her.

"Idiots. What did I tell you guys? Get in." She huffs before closing the door behind them.

"Don't think you're safe! Your ass is grass once Y/N leaves." He calls out before the door clicks shut.

"You, stop it. Come inside." You pull him in by the elbow.

"Jesus fucking christ." He groans into his hands, throwing the journal on his bed. "You didn't hear any of that, alright? None of that happened."

"Yup. You got it." You silently chuckle to yourself. "Absolutely nothing."

You watch him shove the journal deep into his school bag before throwing it back on the ground and flopping down in his bed, face buried in his pillow.

"FUCK!" He screams into his pillow, tightly gripping the sides of it.

"Okay let's just finish this shit and get it over with." He huffs, turning on his back and leaning up against the headboard, dragging his laptop back up to his lap.

"Oh so you really didn't wanna talk about it?"

"Talk about what?" He shoots you a threatening glance.

You ignored the hostile look, anyways. "You have a crush on me." You bite your bottom lip to hide a side. "That's what that was, right?"

"Who said all that shit was about you, huh?"

"You got another 'Prez' in your life?" You cock an eyebrow.

He went silent for a moment, running a hand through his hair and blowing out a breath of air.

"Let's not do this right now."

"That's fine." You turn your attention back to your laptop. "I'm just saying, though, you don't have to do 'better' for me to like you. I already do."

Another beat of silence passes.

"Cool. Cool." He squeaks out. "Um. Can you double check my slides for me?" He coughs.

You looked at him in your peripheral to see him covering the bottom half of his face with his hand, hiding the impending blush creeping up his face as he kept his eyes glued to his screen.

"Sure." You smiled. "Only if you double check mine."

-

bonus scene hehe:

over the next week of school, touya had been actively avoiding you- which you expected. it wasn't until one late school day where you had to stay behind for your council meeting when you caught him waiting by your cubby.

"touya." you greeted, holding out your bag for him to take while you started switching your shoes out. "what are you still doing here?"

"got a request to deliver to you, prez." he responds with a smirk, leaning up against the cubbies with your bag under his arm.

"oh yeah? well unfortunate for you, but i'm off the clock. you should file it in the student council box."

"it's a special request that can only be delivered in person." he rolls his eyes. "also i'm walking you home, so you don't really have a choice."

you laugh, starting your way out of school. "okay, then. go for it."

"go out with me this weekend."

your breath hitches from surprise. you had to admit to yourself that you had been waiting for some sort of confession or at the very least a chat about the last time you had seen him, but for him to almost demand a date with you caught you off guard.

"really?" you snap your attention to him, face heating up.

"really."

"i'd love to." you smile. "you feel like talking about it now? or do i gotta go through your diary for that?"

"shut up. it's a journal- two very different things." he nudges you with his elbow. "fuyumi yelled at me after you left and told me that i was an emotionally constipated prick, so i guess that inspired me to get my shit together."

"sooo.." you motion for him to continue.

"sooo...i like you. i have for a while." he starts "and i got my marks up for this quarter. for you. well, technically for me, but i wanted you to see that i was trying."

your heart swelled at this simple act. "you didn't have to do that. i told you i like you regardless- even after you set the toilet on fire."

"we don't talk about that version of me last year." he laughs "and i wanted to. you made me want to do it for me."

you two continue to walk home chirping in conversation and light teases. you had always been drawn to him despite his bad habits and annoying mannerisms, but you knew he always had it in him to do good things and make better choices for himself. knowing that he did it because of his inspiration to be a good person for you only made you like him more.

[ratstuckinamarble]

The shitty lungs curse is spreading to my mutuals... run everyone (if your lungs will let you)

they never tell you abt The Skeleton's Curse (bone pain)

[chibinasuu]

Zoro x Reader ― by the fire; cuddling

part of the cozy holidays event

🎁 ― @kyllium tags: sfw, pure fluff, established relationship, GN!reader, no use of y/n

Roronoa Zoro was not and had never been a cuddler. 

…or so he claimed. 

As you sat on a log by the bonfire, in a banquet after the Straw Hats successfully liberated yet another kingdom, Roronoa Zoro was clinging to you like his life depended on it. 

Sanji was running around trying to find a cam-snail, hoping to capture the moment for future blackmail material. Robin was giggling quietly to herself, amused by the swordsman’s uncharacteristic behavior. 

The green-haired man was too drunk to care. 

He had (foolishly) challenged Jinbe to a drinking contest, which he had obviously lost, badly.

The fishman was chatting happily with the locals across the clearing, seemingly unbothered by the unholy amount of alcohol he had just consumed. Meanwhile, his opponent had entered a relaxed, half-drowsy state that he always found himself in whenever he drank more than he should, which admittedly, was not often. 

You could only sit frozen in space, cheeks burning, trying to avoid Nami’s gaze as she teasingly made kissy faces at you. Your arms were tight on your sides, trapped by Zoro’s thick ones wrapped around your figure. His face was buried in your neck, and your breath hitched when you felt his lips brush once, twice, against the sensitive skin. 

You were no stranger to Zoro's touches. He had his affectionate moments whenever the two of you were alone, but in public? The most he had ever done was hold your hand in front of the crew. 

“Zoro,” You whispered, “People are watching.”

“Don’t care.” He mumbled as he nuzzled closer to you, “Let ‘em see how much I love you.”

You couldn’t stifle the smile that crept up your face, but Zoro was apparently not done talking yet. 

“Do you know how much I love you?” He slurred as he pulled his head back to look at you, his smile as soft as you had ever seen it, “I’m so in love with you, it‘s making me dizzy.”

You decided that you liked drunk Zoro. 

The man was not exactly vocal with his declarations of love, so it was always nice to hear him say it out loud once in a while.  

You laughed and wriggled your arms out of his tight grip, using them to pull him even closer to you. You gave him a small kiss on the top of his head, “I love you too, Zoro, but that’s probably the alcohol making you dizzy.” 

You know your beloved swordsman would probably be mortified by all of this tomorrow – if he could even remember anything – but for now, you gladly basked in his affection, despite being slightly embarrassed yourself. 

You let him lean on you as he rested his bones  – he deserved it after today's long battle. The crackling of the dying fire only added to his drowsiness, and you could see his eyelid fluttering, struggling to stay open. 

You stroke his hair gently, playing with the spiky ends on his nape. Zoro sighed out your name, muttering a couple more I-love-yous into your ear for good measure. His hand on your waist subtly slipped under your top, his thumb drawing lazy circles on your bare skin. 

As the flames slowly turned into embers, you were grateful for the darkness that hid your flushed skin and dilated pupils. 

“Zoro, are you asleep?”

A soft grunt indicated that he was still awake, but barely.

“Do you want to go back to the ship? You should get into bed and get some proper sleep.”

He answered with a deeper grunt. You were fluent enough in Zoro’s grunts by now that you knew that meant ‘yes’. 

After bidding good night to everyone who remained at the banquet, you half-led, half-dragged Zoro back to the Thousand Sunny, with your arm wrapped around his waist, and his arm slung around your shoulders.

You didn’t complain about his massive weight bearing down on you – not when he stopped every few steps to press tender kisses to your cheek.

a/n: this is practically a self-indulgent fic that feeds into my headcanon that zoro gets extremely affectionate whenever he was drunk

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[thef1diary]

Staying Warm | D. Ricciardo

Merry Smutmas - Day 4: Body Heat

warnings: 18+ content, best friend!danny, porn w plot, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, praising, cockwarming.

— missed day 3? Read it here by @emchante

© thef1diary 2024. all rights reserved. Do not copy, steal, translate, or repost any of my work

The cabin is dark, save for the flickering light of a dying fire and the moon shining in through the window. Snow falls steadily against the windows, the wind howling like it’s trying to claw its way inside, rattling the wooden frames with every gust. The cold has seeped through the walls, the floors, and now it’s creeping into your bones, relentless and unforgiving. 

What was supposed to be a cozy little winter trip just a few days before Christmas had quickly turned into an unexpected nightmare. A snowstorm swept in out of nowhere, leaving you and Daniel stranded in this small, isolated cabin with no heat and no way to get back to civilization. The festive cheer you’d hoped for had turned into biting winds, and a frozen night in, the snow unravelling your plans with each gust. 

Daniel sits huddled on the slightly worn-out couch, wrapped in what looks like every blanket the cabin has to offer. He’s a lump of fabric and layers—two sweatshirts, thermal pants, thick socks, and still, you can see the tension in his shoulders from how tightly he’s holding himself together against the cold. His nose and cheeks are flushed a deep pink, raw from the chill, and every so often, you hear his teeth chattering despite his best effort to clamp his jaw shut. 

You’re not much better off though. Kneeling by the fireplace, you prod uselessly at the last few embers with a stick, watching as they glow weakly, barely clinging to life. Your hands tremble as you add another log, hoping—praying—it’ll catch, but the fire only crackles in protest before dimming even further. 

Daniel shifts under his plethora of blankets and lets out a dramatic sigh, the breath clouding in the freezing air before dissolving. “Winter in Aus is never this bad,” he says, his voice muffled by the fabric around him but still carrying the familiar cheeky lilt. “Cold, yeah, but not this…brutal.” 

You glance over your shoulder, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face, and scoff. “You’re just soft.” The words come out sharper than intended, but you soften them with a teasing smile. “I’m used to snow like this, but it’s still a pain.” 

Daniel chuckles, low and rough, and it rumbles through the stillness of the cabin, somehow warmer than the fire that’s threatening to give out. His eyes—bright despite the exhaustion—lock onto yours for a moment, amusement flickering in their depths. “Soft?” He repeats, feigning offence. “I‘m not soft.” 

You arch an eyebrow, turning fully to face him now, sitting back on your heels. “No? Then why are bundled up like you’re heading to the North Pole?” You gesture toward the cocoon of blankets engulfing him, suppressing a smirk. 

“It’s called being smart,” he counters, the corners of his lips twitching into a grin. “Survival instincts, you know? You could learn a thing or two.” 

“Is that so?” you challenge, “I don’t remember survival instincts involving whining about the temperature every five seconds.” 

His grin widens, even as another shiver racks through him. “I wasn’t whining…I was commenting.” 

You roll your eyes. “Right ‘commenting’.” 

Another gust of wind slams against the cabin, rattling the windows, and you both fall silent for a moment, the cold pressing in like a living thing. Daniel shifts again, burrowing deeper into the blankets, his eyes never leaving yours. 

“You know,” he says after a beat, his tone lighter now, teasing but carrying an undertone that makes your pulse quicken, “maybe you should come here and warm me up, since you’re apparently an expert now.” 

You scoff slightly, pretending not to notice the way your stomach flips at his words. “Oh, is that what you need? Poor baby can’t handle the cold alone?” 

He mutters your name in a dangerously low tone, edged with something darker. He rises to his feet in a shuffle of blankets and layers, a comical sight, but his gaze holds yours with an intensity that sends warmth curling low in your belly. He moves to the bed, glancing back at you with an eyebrow arched in a challenge. “C’mon, I’m in desperate need of heat and you don’t look too cold to me. Isn’t this what friends are for?” 

You hesitate only for a moment before sighing and standing as well, the cold immediately biting at your limbs as you leave the dying fire’s warmth. Crossing the small room, you sink onto the bed beside him, tugging one of his blankets over your lap. 

Daniel doesn’t waste a second. He leans into you immediately, his shoulder brushing against yours, and lets out an exaggerated groan of relief. “See?” He mutters, his voice muffled as he tugs the blankets higher around you both. “Living furnace.” 

You snort softly, but you can’t deny the warmth radiating between you. It’s a stark contrast to the biting cold, and for a moment, it feels… nice. His arm brushes yours again, lingering just a second too long, and you try to ignore the spark of awareness that hums through you.

“Better?” You ask, your voice steady but quieter than you intended. 

Instead of replying, Daniel shifts again, twisting and turning as though searching for the perfect position to soak up every bit of your warmth. His exaggerated sighs and muttered complaints make you roll your eyes, but the steady way he inches closer has your breath hitching. 

“Seriously?” You murmur, half-amused, half-exasperated. 

“I’m trying to survive,” he counters, his voice muffled as he nestles closer, pressing his chest against your back. Then, without warning, he groans softly, his hands sliding over your waist. His touch is firm but casual—almost too casual for a best friend, as if he’s testing how much you’ll tolerate. “You’re hoarding all the heat,” he accuses playfully. 

You shift away from him for a moment, sitting up as his hands reluctantly slip from your waist. His immediate groan of complaint echoes through the small cabin. “Oh, come on,” he mutters, burrowing deeper into the blankets. “You’re leaving me to freeze?” 

Ignoring his dramatics, you reach for the hem of your shirt and tug it off in one smooth motion. The cold air bites at your skin, but you keep your expression neutral as you glance down at him. 

The playful complaint dies on his lips. He blinks up at you, momentarily stunned into silence, his eyes darkening as they skim over your form, now clad only in your bra. 

“What?” you ask, arching your eyebrow. “This way body heat’s better, isn’t it?” 

Daniel doesn’t reply right away. Instead, he seems to snap out of whatever daze he was in, his mouth curving into a lopsided grin. “You’re full of surprises,” he murmurs, his voice softer now, yet tinged with something heavier. 

He sits up slightly, shedding his layers of shirts one by one without taking his eyes off you. His movements are hurried, like he’s eager to feel your body against his, and there’s palpable tension in the air as his bare chest is revealed. He lies back against the pillows and opens his arms to you. 

You don’t hesitate, shifting closer to settle over him, your legs straddling his hips as he pulls you down against him. His arms wrap securely around your waist, holding you close as your chest presses against his. The warmth between you is instant, chasing away the lingering chill from the room. 

Daniel tugs the blankets up again, covering you both in a cocoon of heat. “Better,” he states, answering your question from earlier. One hand stays at your waist, grounding and firm, while the other begins to move in soothing circles along your back. His fingers are gentle as they trace over the curve of your spine, dipping lower before skimming up again, his touch igniting sparks wherever it lingered. 

“You’re so warm,” he murmurs, his breath brushing against your temple as he presses a faint kiss there. 

You let out a soft hum of agreement, your cheek resting against the curve of his shoulder as you relax into him. Despite the storm outside, the biting cold, and the oddity of your current position, this felt… safe. Comforting. 

That was until Daniel’s fingers brushed beneath your bra, grazing your back, their warmth seeping into your skin in a way that feels anything but innocent. The touch was featherlight, almost unintentional, but it sent a jolt of awareness through you. 

You bury your face into the curve of his neck, trying to suppress the shiver coursing through you. His scent—rich, woodsy, and undeniably him—overwhelms your senses, and you hum softly, your lips brushing against his skin in the process. 

“Daniel,” you murmur, his name rolling off your tongue in a way that feels far too intimate for the situation. 

His fingers pause at the sound of your voice, as if he’s weighing his next move, but they resume a moment later, teasing the clasp of your bra. He pulls at it gently, letting it snap back into place with a soft thrum against your skin. The sharp sensation makes you jolt, earning a low chuckle from him.

“You alright there?” he teases, his tone light but his hands anything but as they settle firmly on your hips.

Your breath hitches, and when you shift slightly to glance up at him, the movement causes your hips to press against his. Daniel groans softly, the sound reverberating through his chest, and you feel the unmistakable hardness of his cock pressing against your pussy. Even through the layers of fabric, the sensation is electric, and you can’t stop the wetness that begins pooling between your thighs. 

A smirk tugs at the corner of your lips as you tilt your head, meeting his gaze. His honey-brown eyes are darker now, flickering with something deeper, something dangerous. “Still cold?” you tease, your voice soft and laced with mischief as your fingers trace idle patterns down the expanse of his bare chest.

He’s silent for a moment, debating his answer while his hands shift down to your hips, keeping you pinned against him. You lower your upper body towards him, your lips hovering just near his ear. Your voice drops into a whisper, low and intimate, meant just for him. “If you are,” you murmur, your breath brushing against the shell of his ear, “we might have to shed a few more clothes… you know, for more body heat.” 

A wicked smirk curls on Daniel’s lips, and his gaze travels slowly over you, dark and unrelenting, igniting a fire in your belly that no amount of cold could extinguish. He turns his head slightly, just enough that his lips graze the edge of your jaw, an almost accidental touch that feels anything but. 

“Strip,” he orders, his voice low and commanding, laced with a dangerous kind of amusement. “I’m freezing.”

Your heart stutters at the way his tone wraps around you, but you school your features into a calm mask, tilting your head slightly to meet his gaze. “Demanding, aren’t we?” you murmur, though your hands move on their own accord, bracing against his chest as you shift slightly to allow him more access.

He doesn’t respond with words, just that same wicked smirk that only deepens when his hands find their way up your back. With practiced ease, his fingers locate the clasp of your bra, and with a single motion, he undoes it. The straps slacken against your shoulders, and he gives you a pointed look as if daring you to stop him.

You don’t. Instead, you let the straps slide down your arms, shrugging off the fabric and tossing it somewhere into the cabin without a second thought. The cool air bites at your skin for a moment before Daniel’s gaze warms you like a blazing fire. His eyes roam over you unabashedly, darkened with a hunger that sends heat pooling in your core.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs, almost to himself. His hands find their way to your chest, cupping your tits. His thumb lightly brushes your hardening nipples, earning a small gasp from you. “But if you really want to warm me up, your body heat won’t cut it.” 

You narrow your eyes at him, confused. 

“You’ll have to be more… specific,” he says, his voice rough with intent. With one fluid motion, he unbuttons your jeans. His fingers slip beneath the denim and find the lace of your panties.

“Maybe use your mouth,” he continues, his tone dropping even lower, raspier, as his thumb grazes over the growing wet patch against your panties. He pauses, letting his words hang in the charged air as his touch presses more firmly, deliberately rubbing the damp fabric. His eyes lock with yours, dark and filled with challenge.

“…Or even better,” he murmurs, his lips curving as his fingers begin to rub slow, deliberate circles against the soaked lace, “your cunt.”

The bluntness of his words sends a wave of heat through your body, and a soft whimper escapes your lips before you can stop it. Instinct takes over, and your hips shift, grinding down against his hand, seeking the friction you so desperately need.

His breath hitches at your movements, but he recovers quickly, his smirk broadening as he applies more pressure, matching the rhythm of your grinding with the movement of his fingers. “That’s it,” he murmurs, his voice softer now but no less intense. “Just like that, sweetheart.”

But just as the pressure begins to build, his fingers retreat, leaving you aching. He brings them up, glistening with your arousal, his eyes locked on yours as he slowly spreads the evidence between his fingers.

“So,” he drawls, his tone teasing yet firm. “Are you going to warm me up?” His chuckle deepens when you nod instantly, no hesitation in your answer.

Without warning, Daniel moves, his strong hands gripping your hips as he flips you onto your back. The sudden shift leaves you breathless, but before you can react, he’s already hooking his fingers into the waistband of your pants, tugging them down along with your panties in one swift motion.

You blink at the efficiency of it, barely having time to process before he starts shedding his own clothes. A laugh bubbles out of you, soft and amused. “How many layers do you have on?”

His smirk turns into a crooked grin as he shrugs off his last piece of clothing. “Gotta stay warm somehow,” he quips.

Your laugh dies in your throat as your eyes drop to his cock. Big, hard, and already leaking pre-cum, it makes your breath hitch and your thighs instinctively part. Daniel catches the change in your expression and chuckles lowly, the sound dripping with satisfaction.

“Not laughing now, are you?” he teases, settling between your legs. His hands slide up your thighs, warm and firm, before he spreads you open. The cool air is nothing compared to the heat of his fingers as he glides them through your folds, pausing to circle your clit with deliberate precision.

“So warm,” he murmurs, his voice softer now, almost reverent. “So wet for me.”

You bite your lip, a soft moan escaping as his thumb flicks over your clit again, his other hand bracing himself beside your head. “Danny,” you whisper, your voice breathy and full of need.

“Hmm?” He dips his head, brushing his lips against your neck as his cock slides through your folds, coating himself in your slick. The sensation sends shivers through you, and your hips lift instinctively, seeking more.

He chuckles against your skin, the vibrations making you squirm. “Impatient, aren’t you?” he murmurs, his tone teasing but thick with desire. He shifts slightly, the head of his cock pressing against your entrance, teasing but not quite pushing in.

“Please,” you breathe, your legs wrapping around his waist, urging him closer.

He hums in approval, his hand slipping to grip your hip as he finally presses forward, the slow stretch making your breath catch. “That’s it,” he mutters, his voice rough and low. “Taking me so well, sweetheart.”

You cling to him, your fingers digging into his shoulders as he moves deeper, the sensation both overwhelming and perfect. “Daniel,” you gasp, the name a plea and a praise all at once.

Daniel’s hips move slowly at first, giving you time to adjust as he fills you completely. The deliberate drag of his cock against your walls sends waves of pleasure coursing through you, each thrust pulling soft, breathy moans from your lips. His gaze stays locked on yours, a mixture of desire and determination in his darkened eyes.

“You feel so good,” he mutters, his voice strained as he begins to pick up his pace. One hand moves down your body, his fingertips brushing over your sensitive clit. The sensation is immediate and electric, your back arching off the bed as his thumb circles the bundle of nerves. “Look at you,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against your ear. “So perfect, so fucking perfect for me.”

Your hands tangle in his messy curls, pulling him closer until his mouth finds yours. The kiss is hot and desperate, all teeth and tongues, as if you’re both trying to devour the other. His groan vibrates against your lips, and you tug harder, relishing the way he seems to lose himself in you.

The heat between you grows, a sheen of sweat forming on both your bodies as the intensity builds. His chest glistens as it presses against yours, his breath ragged and uneven as he pulls back just enough to shift your legs. With ease, he tosses them over his shoulders, your ankles now resting against his collarbone. The new angle has him thrusting deeper, the force of it pulling a loud, unabashed moan from you.

“Fuck, that’s it,” he groans, his hands gripping your thighs tightly as he pounds into you. Each thrust sends you closer to the edge, the tension in your core tightening with every movement. Your hands clutch at the sheet as the overwhelming pleasure threatens to consume you. 

“Daniel,” you whimper, your voice trembling as you feel yourself inch closer and closer.

“I’ve got you,” he reassures, his voice rough and full of need. His thumb presses harder against your clit, the added stimulation sending sparks shooting through your entire body. “Let go for me, sweetheart. I want to feel you.”

His words are all it takes to push you over the edge. Your body tenses, a loud cry spilling from your lips as the orgasm crashes over you, wave after wave of pleasure rippling through every nerve. Daniel doesn’t let up, riding you through it, his thrusts erratic now as he chases his own release.

“Fuck,” he groans, his head falling back for a moment before his movements still, his cock buried deep inside you as he spills, the warmth of him filling you completely. He stays there for a moment, his breaths ragged as he slowly lowers your legs, his hands gentle as they massage the marks he’s left on your skin.

Daniel’s breath is still uneven as he starts to pull back, the soft drag of his cock making your oversensitive walls clench around him. Before he can fully withdraw, your legs tighten around his waist, locking him in place.

“Stay,” you whisper, your voice soft but commanding. Your eyes meet his, full of heat and something else, something softer. “Wanna keep you warm.”

Daniel freezes for a moment, his chest still heaving against yours. Then, a slow smile spreads across his face, a mix of mischief and satisfaction. Who was he to deny you? Especially when every inch of him thrummed with the need to stay exactly where he was, buried deep inside you.

He shifts, resettling his hands on your hips as you both adjust your positions. Carefully, you guide him back onto his back, straddling him once again. It’s almost like it was before, the only difference now is that you’re both completely bare with his cock buried deep inside you.

Settling against him, you let out a contented sigh, your body melting into his warmth. His hands return to their place, skimming lazily over your back, his touch soothing as his thumbs trace slow, idle patterns on your skin.

“This trip didn’t turn out so bad,” he muses, his voice low and relaxed. His lips brush against your temple as he speaks, “you just might’ve changed my mind about winter.”

You lift your head, curiosity etched into your expression as you peer at him. Your eyebrows furrow slightly, and you can’t help but ask, “Being stuck in a cabin because of a snowstorm changed your mind? Out of all the things?”

Daniel’s lips twist into a slow, confident grin. “If I have you wrapped around my cock every day of winter to keep me warm, it’ll quickly become my favourite season.” 

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