#i think grey compliments her quite well

[roselock22]

Wanted to render something so have some Sora!! Plus a little redesign for my past design for em,, ignore the backround, i had no idea whjat to do

[thinkinonsense]

VELVET ELVIS ❤︎

lumberjack!logan howlett x fem!reader

cw: fluff! domesticity! soft!logan pregnancy

author's note: this was inspired by the kacey musgraves song! just wanted to write some fluff :)

masterlist

divider credit: @/roseraris

within these cabin walls, time stood still. logan liked his life and the time machine he's built himself. you and him live in a 60's dream home.

during the weekdays, logan went to work at the lumberyard while you stayed at home and worked on your paintings. when the two of you moved in together years ago, logan got you to agree to quit your job and prioritize your talents since he could do triple the amount of work for a normal man, money would never be an issue.

on saturday's, the two of you would go into town and you would bring your art pieces to a shop downtown for them to sell. whatever money you made, you put back towards the supplies you needed because logan covered everything else.

"well, don't 'cha look like a dream" logan compliments as he watches you get ready in the mirror.

"thank you, sugar." you smile as he leans down to kiss your temple then down to your cheek.

"prettiest fuckin' thing i've ever seen." he mutters against your skin. "is this new?"

both your eyes fall to the satin powder blue slip dress that adorned your frame. he loved how it looked with your pretty white mary jane boots and the small bump blooming underneath the soft material of your dress.

"yeah, picked it up earlier this week." you reply, removing the curlers in your hair and teasing the hair pieces up high.

"love it." logan says, nibbling at your earlobe.

"logan..." you giggle, lightly shoving him away. "go get dressed so we can leave."

"yes, ma'am."

reluctantly, logan gets up and grabs the nice outfit you put together for him earlier. a fresh pair of denim jeans, a white shirt, and his brown leather jacket. as an anniversary present one year, you got logan a silver star-shaped belt buckle that matched the necklace he got for your birthday when you two first met. in the mirror, you watched him put it on.

"whatcha thinkin' about over there, sweetheart?" he smirks, looking up to find your eyes.

"dippin' you in honey."

"dirty. i like it."

"not like that, perv." you giggle. "just wanna be stuck to you forever."

"that's sweet," he says, walking over, bending down, and gently grabbing your chin to kiss you.

✦•┈๑⋅⋯ ⋯⋅๑┈•✦

once the two of you make it inside the tiny shop, logan brings in your painting while you greet the older ladies who own the building. all of them fawn over logan and your round tummy; telling you how lucky you are. something you never let yourself forget.

"you'll never believe what we picked up at the gala last weekend." one of the grey-haired women tells you.

"what did you two find?" you asked, always curious to their treasures.

"the hell kinda painting is this?" logan asks, looking sideways at one of the paintings on the wall.

the sight makes you laugh. no matter how long you two have been together, logan still struggles to see some of the beauty that you do in certain art pieces.

"i think the handsome lumberjack found it." the other lady winked as they guide you over to where logan stood. hanging upon the wall sat a velvet elvis painting.

"oh my!" you gasp.

ever since you were a little girl, you adored the painting that some would call 'tacky'.

"you like that, sweets?" he questions but you ignore it, stepping closer, running a finger along the golden frame.

"my grandma used to have one in her living room, it was her most prized possession –well, next to my grandpa."

behind you, logan could see the couple smiling to each other. too busy amazed by the painting to notice anything else around you.

“what a lucky find!” you marvel, turning around to face them.

“which is why we want you to have it.” one of them says while the other takes it down from the wall.

in shock, you shake your head insisting that you couldn’t allow them to give it away. they insist on you two taking it home, telling you to hang it somewhere nice. logan wasn’t exactly thrilled to have the painting in the home but he knew you adored it so he would never say a word out loud.

on the way home that night, you raved about the piece. logan loved hearing you talk about the things you were passionate about. he could listen to you explain color theory for hours. his own personal, prettier version of bob ross. when he brought in the painting, you told him exactly where you wanted to hang it in the living room.

“right there, baby.” you instruct him. “be careful.”

the man couldn’t be hurt if he tried but he found your warning cute. once it was hung up, you both step back to admire it. the art work did at least match the aesthetic of the house, logan could admit.

“i mean, its no mona lisa but i don’t mind it.” logan says, pulling you in to kiss your forehead.

“you know, i don’t really care for the mona lisa.” you admit with a shrug.

“really?”

“mhm, don’t like that everyone fawns over it. i want character, creativity, and something unique."

"hm.." he hums, swaying you gently.

"this painting reminds me of you." your voice meek and muffled against his shirt.

"is that so?" he asks, looking down at you.

you nod. "i want something no one else has and something no one else will ever understand the way that i do. you're my favorite work of art, lo."

"i'm only a work of art because you carved and molded me with your beautiful mind." he says, trying to allow a tear to fall down his face.

logan couldn't believe the life he'd been gifted after all the shit he's dealt with in his lifetime. he didn't deserve this; he didn't deserve you. your kindness, your warmth, your talent, your body that carries the only other human he will ever love as much as you. he would never be able to repay you for this little life and slice of peace that you've gifted him.

[fluentmoviequoter]

Tim Testing

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!cop!reader

Summary: After transferring to the Mid-Wilshire division because of toxic male officers harassing you, you find yourself partnered with Tim Bradford. When you are injured during a Tim Test, you hide the injury so he doesn't think less of you.

Warnings: angst to fluff, misogynistic comments and actions toward reader (from police officers), reader is injured and passes out, Tim is a softie

Word Count: 2.5k+ words

A/N: This was such an amazing request!! Tim (and everyone at Mid-Wilshire) would be so welcoming after dealing with something like this, so I really enjoyed writing this one. I hope you enjoy and please feel free to let me know what you think!🤍

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

Picture from Pinterest

You knew from the beginning that it would be different for you, that being a female cop would have its pros, cons, and tough moments. What you didn’t expect was the men who were supposed to be your equals harassing you and making each moment far worse than it should have been.

Between the crass comments about how your uniform fit, questioning whether it was your time of the month whenever you tried to stand up for yourself, and their inability to trust you in the field, you learn your place quickly.

“I’d like to request a transfer to a different station,” you tell your commanding officer.

“Why?” he asks.

“Because there is no respect, no trust in this station. Looking over my shoulder while I’m trying to work, and having to defend myself against the very people who are supposed to have my back is exhausting and it makes me unable to do my job.”

He sighs, rolling his eyes as he slides a form to you. “Your decision. Though showing how weak you are by moving around every time things get hard, or your feelings get hurt isn’t plausible.”

“And you had to ask why,” you mutter, snatching the paper off his desk and walking out to fill it out in private.

“Hey, princess, before we leave on patrol I need to know you don’t have your gun at the front of your belt,” someone calls. “Don’t want to risk getting killed by your poor aim.”

You remain silent, which makes them quit or spurs them on to push you further. As if your day isn’t going poorly already, they take your silence as a weakness.

“Just her gun? You should be more worried about how her attitude changes if her bra rides up or her hormones spike,” a second voice adds.

“You’re on your own today,” you reply. “I’m on desk duty.”

“Finally, someone put you where you belong.”

The men laugh as they walk toward their shops, and you take a deep breath as the quiet settles over the station. Once your paperwork is complete, you take it to the captain. You can only hope it goes through quickly before you get fed up and quit forever.

✯✯✯✯✯

Your commanding officer yells your name as you walk in, intercepting you on your way to the locker room. 

“Your transfer just came through, you’re expected at the Mid-Wilshire division for roll call first thing in the morning; today’s PTO while we complete the paperwork,” he informs.

You accept the paper he hands you and pretend not to hear as he adds, “I hope they know what they’re getting into and have the patience to deal with you.”

Smiling as you empty your locker, you hope things are looking up. Although, you know it will be hard to open up to new people and trust new cops, even if they are different than your previous team.

✯✯✯✯✯

Entering the Mid-Wilshire station, you cross your fingers that transferring was the right decision. Sergeant Wade Grey is your new commanding officer, and your day (and your future) relies on this meeting going well.

“Sergeant Grey?” you ask, knocking on his open door.

He looks up, smiling as he beckons you inside. Saying your name, he opens a folder and compliments your arrest record. “I was surprised to hear you asked for a transfer, it seemed like you were doing well at your previous station.”

“The environment was making it difficult to do as well as I know I can, sir,” you answer.

Grey nods. “I can understand that. Our people are good, though, so I expect you will fit in well and succeed in all you do here.”

“I appreciate that, sir.”

“And you can drop the ‘sir,’ we’re not as formal as some other stations.”

Blinking in surprise, you look away from Wade when another cop enters the small office. 

“Sergeant Bradford, I’d like to introduce you to your new partner. I will warn both of you this is likely a temporary partnership, but one I trust will do you both some good.”

You smile at Bradford, who tilts his head to the side as he looks you over. It’s clear that he isn’t thrilled about having a partner, having grown used to working alone since becoming a sergeant. As long as he doesn’t treat you like a boot, or worse, like a girl who doesn’t have what it takes to be a cop, you can survive working with him for a few weeks.

What you don’t see, though, is that Tim can look at you and tell you’re a good cop. He reviewed your paperwork and arrest record with Wade yesterday, and he’s impressed by you. You’re good, but you have the potential to be better with the right help. And, for some reason, Wade is convinced that Tim can give you the push you need to be your best.

“Okay, let’s go,” Tim says, turning away as Wade tells you to have a good day.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim acknowledges that you’re not a rookie but warns you from the beginning that you still have something to prove.

“I know you’ve been a cop for a while, but I haven’t seen you in action. Your records are admirable, but I need to see proof that you’re still that good,” he explains. “So, I will test you and challenge you while we’re riding together, but don’t view it as starting over, more like proving grounds than qualifications.”

You nod, remembering something Wade muttered about “Tim Tests,” which you’re sure are unique to Bradford.

“I understand. I’ll do my best, and I want to learn to be better.”

Tim doesn’t reply, and you raise your guard, unimpressed with how shut off he is with you. In general, your past has made you wary around men; after Tim’s insistence that you have something to prove, you are determined to hide everything that could be taken as a sign of weakness. You will do whatever it takes to show you are a good cop, worthy of respect.

Slamming on the brakes, Tim yells, “We’re being ambushed; what do you do?”

“Radio for backup, stay in the shop, stay low, and fire only if necessary,” you answer, nearly robotically, as he catches you off guard.

Tim eases back onto the road, ignoring you once again.

✯✯✯✯✯

Just before your scheduled lunch break, something which you haven’t actually enjoyed in far too long, Tim parks between two old warehouses.

“There’s a suspicious package in the gray building, you’re riding alone and need to check it out,” he explains. “Radio any information as you find it.”

You switch your radio to a private channel with Tim, accepting the call as you exit the shop and enter the building. It’s dark and wet, but you refuse to accept any comments or disdainful looks from Tim if you fail this test, so you will find the package and impress him as quickly as possible.

“7-Adam-9, located suspicious package: brown paper bag situated between steel beams,” you radio.

“Dispatch, requesting additional information,” Tim replies.

You sigh, moving forward to look at the bag because you can’t touch it. When you move, the beams sitting upright in the warehouse shift. Stepping back a second too late, one side of the heavy structure hits the back of your shoulder, shoving you forward into the crate holding the package.

Pain radiates through your shoulder as you move to the side, pulling yourself away from the mess you made with a sharp inhale.

“7-Adam-9, false alarm. Suspicious package is empty. Code 4.”

“Copy 7-Adam-9.”

Taking a step toward the door, you hiss in pain as the pain moves from your shoulder around to your ribs, where you fell against the crate. It seems likely that you broke something or at least got a deep bruise, but telling Tim would be like admitting that you’re weak. So, as you level your expression and cover your pain by walking normally, you decide to hide your pain.

Being labeled weak or incapable, or as before, giving Tim a reason to view you as less than is not an option anymore. Buckling your seatbelt, you press your lips together to keep your pained sounds muted, and the feeling of the seat on your shoulder makes you count down the minutes until you can get out of the shop.

✯✯✯✯✯

As the day goes on, your pain grows in intensity. Each breath causes immeasurable pain, and your stomach turns when you move your shoulder in any direction.

“Wade’s going to ask me, so how’s your first day going?” Tim asks, turning down a residential street to respond to a noise disturbance.

“Fine,” you answer quickly, clenching your jaw to stay quiet.

“Good,” he replies, though his voice sounds different. “Glad you found a station that works for you.”

You can’t tell if his comment is passive-aggressive, implying that you are the issue rather than the station you transferred from. The overbearing pain you’re feeling makes it nearly impossible to care.

“You take point on this one,” Tim offers as he parks by the curb.

“Yes, sir.”

Asking questions and explaining the city’s noise ordinances to the tenant, you’re momentarily distracted from your pain. The moment you turn to return to the shop, though, you’re reminded that your new position isn’t quite as enjoyable as you were expecting.

“Take us back to the station,” Tim says, tossing the shop keys to you.

When you raise your hand to catch the keys, your shoulder screams in protest, and you close your eyes momentarily to hide the pain.

“You alright?” Tim asks.

Nodding, you release a sigh when Tim climbs into the passenger seat, too easily convinced by your answer.

✯✯✯✯✯

After a quick meeting with Wade, discussing your new role, and signing a few documents, you head for the locker room. When you pull your shirt off, you glance in the mirror, surprised to see the size and color of the bruise; your entire shoulder, over to your neck and down around the front of your ribs, is a sickening purple. The yellowish tint around the edges is a sign that it will only worsen before it begins to heal. Attempting to raise your arm again, you feel something shift under your skin and step into one of the bathroom stalls, kneeling as you try to keep yourself from being sick. When you lean your head against the metal wall, the coolness is soothing, and as you finally let yourself acknowledge the pain, it becomes all you can feel.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim opens Wade’s door, furrowing his brows when he sees you’re not there.

“She left a few minutes ago,” Wade answers.

“Her car’s still here.”

“Must be in the locker room then.”

“Why’d she transfer?” Tim asks, stepping inside to close the door.

“I don’t know, Bradford. You’re going to have to ask her.”

Tim nods, turning away to search for you. He knocks on the locker room door, and when no one answers, he opens it and says your name. Once again met with silence, he steps inside and looks around. Your locker is open, but you’re nowhere to be seen. As he rounds the last row of lockers, he sees someone sitting on the floor in one of the bathroom stalls.

Tim says your name, knocking on the door. It opens at his touch, and he catches it before it hits your arm. Kneeling beside you, he looks across your face, pressing his hand behind your neck as he tries to find the source of your unconsciousness. His hand dips to your upper shoulder, and you groan, opening your eyes.

Tim ignores you as you wake, gently leaning you forward as he surveys the bruise where it’s visible past your tank top.

“Stay awake,” he says, moving you again. “Just your shoulder?”

You nod, and he demands to know: “Home or hospital?”

“Home,” you whisper. “But I can-“

“Obviously you can’t,” Tim snaps, his arms gentler than his voice as he lifts you from the ground.

✯✯✯✯✯

You stay conscious, fighting against the pain as you give Tim directions to your home. After getting you inside and as comfortable as possible, he leaves your side to gather a few things before returning. He gives you a glass of water and a few pain reliever pills, waiting until you’ve taken them to lay an ice pack across your shoulder. You take a deep breath at the cold before catching yourself.

“What else hurts?” Tim asks.

“My ribs,” you admit.

He leans you back gently, pushing your tank top to your sternum as he surveys the darkening bruise across your lower ribcage. Gently moving his hand across your skin, he doesn’t feel anything obviously broken, apologizing as you whimper at the pressure. Pulling the first aid kit he brought from your kitchen to his side, he places several cooling packets over your ribs. 

Satisfied that he’s done all he can do for you, Tim moves to sit across from you, making himself comfortable in your living room.

“What are you doing?” you ask.

“I’m not leaving,” he answers quickly, “what if you collapse again?”

“I’ll be fine.”

Tim silences, closing his eyes as he leans back. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You’ve heard that question dozens of times, but previously, it was asked in a much different tone. Always an accusation that you hadn’t handled something correctly or that you should have let someone else do whatever it was that needed to be done. 

When you look back at Tim, his eyes are on you, and you shrug. His eyes narrow as his gaze intensifies, demanding your answer.

“The last station that I worked at made me nervous to tell people things, especially other cops. All of the guys that I worked with harassed me constantly, and they tried to convince me that I wasn’t a good cop because I was a woman. So, I have trouble trusting other police officers with personal things. During your Tim Tests, I thought that if I acknowledged something had happened, you’d see me the same way.”

“Which way?”

“Weak, incapable,” you answer, trailing off.

“They were bad people,” Tim explains. “They may have been okay cops, but no one deserves to be treated like that.”

You nod, licking your lips as your gaze drops to the blanket across your lap.

“Want to tell me what happened today?” he pries.

“The steel beams around the bag?” Tim nods, so you continue, “They fell. One of them hit my shoulder and knocked me forward.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You couldn’t have known that would happen. Besides, you helped me. My last partner would have found a way to blame be.”

“Like I said, bad people. But you… you’re a good person and a good cop,” Tim continues. “I’ve known that since you walked in, but I needed to know that you knew. Getting hurt or being unable to do something on the first try doesn’t make you less of a person, or a cop. Being a woman doesn’t either. And if they didn’t see that, it’s their loss.”

“Thank you,” you whisper, looking into his eyes.

“And my gain.”

You furrow your brows at Tim, but he leans back and closes his eyes instead of elaborating.

[solbaby7]

Burn Baby Burn (pt.2)

Cassian x reader

warnings: flirting, some angst, violence, maybe a little smut and a jealous Illyrian baby—i got a little carried away but i had a vision

summary: Cassian’s been busy and you come up with a plan to get his attention back—no matter how toxic your tactics may be

—

“Now remember, we just need a rough estimate of their troops.” Rhysand had already gone over the details of the mission three times, his violet eyes stern when regarding you. “The second you feel danger, you leave.” The words hold no room for defiance, hands curling around the fleshy parts of your arms as he continues, “I don’t need you being a hero, I need you to get back in one piece. That is an order.”

“Yes sir.” The term of respect sounds foreign on your tongue when regarding a male you’d looked at as family but something in his tone forces you to understand that even while a huge part of accepting the mission in the first place was just to piss off Cassian, the true danger of the situation never changed. Silly games aside, you’d be in the Autumn Court, filled with males with fiery gifts and even more heated tempers to match. Rhys had went over it twice, stressing how little regard they had for their women and for you to be twice as cautious as usual. “Get a number and get out. Should be easy enough.”

He runs an eye over you, taking in the dress Mor had chosen with a sigh. “Has Cassian seen you yet?”

“Cassian doesn’t seem to have much time for that sort of thing lately.” There’s no hiding the bite in your words or the little frown at tugs at the sides of your mouth as you run your fingers over the glimmering gems on your dress. It covered enough—the material thick and sturdy as it moulded to the shape of your breasts. It took some getting used to have so much midriff exposed, the cut out slicing at an angle from one side to another, the two pieces of fabric at your hip connecting by thin gold chains adorned in more diamonds.

It was classy enough but the sex appeal was unmistakable and while none of the important bits were exposed, the material of the dress made it seem like you were wearing nothing but your skin. Rhysand sighed, fighting the urge to buy into affairs that technically weren’t his own but the two of you were family and seeing you both fighting threw off the feel of the house. “Are you sure this is a good idea? I don’t think you should be going if you’re only doing this to get back at him.”

“Not everything is about him, Rhys.” You take a step back, willing your anger to contain itself as you fixed yourself, a painted finger running over glossy lips and curls that Nesta had promised would last all night if you just stopped running your hands through them. “I meant what I said. One night where someone will actually notice when I walk in a room and compliment me—even if it is Eris and his stupid, disgusting mouth saying it.” Tears well in your eyes at the embarrassment that swells from the confession and with a sharp breath, it’s all gone and a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes pulls across your cheeks. “I should go—I promised Nesta I’d say bye before I left.”

“Just Nesta?”

Your heels stop their clicking on the floor, the skirt of your dress held in your hands when you turn your head to look up at him. “She’s the only one who asked me to.”

You walk away before you can see the look of pity you’re sure is settling into his eyes and you don’t turn back when you walk down the hallway until you’ve reached Nesta’s room at the end of the hall and slipped inside.

She’s in bed; hair wrapped in tissue paper curlers, book nestled in her hand and you notice that she still refused to touch the fireplace, the oil lantern burning in its place to her left. “You headed out?”

You nod with a little smile, offering a little twirl when she admired your dress once more. “Right after this.”

“You visit your general yet?”

Nesta had always been good at that—prodding at sensitive topics while appearing uninterested, steely grey-blue eyes returning to her books pages as if she’d never said anything at all. There’s a pause, a gulp as you swallow and she doesn’t miss the nervous cracking of your knuckles at your sides. “No.”

“You going to?”

“I don’t see how that would be helpful.”

Finally she looks at you, a brow raised in faux confusion as she pointed a finger at you, your clothes, the hair and makeup that she and Mor had spent a little more time than necessary on—silently picking their sides without rattling the stability of their home and its structure. “Oh?” It comes out a little bored, as if you should’ve been clued in already. “Forgive me, I had just assumed that you’d understood that we didn’t take such time on you for no reason. I said get his attention—can’t do that without showing him what the hell he’s missing.”

A beat of time passes, you mouth a little wide as you look down at yourself once more before staring at the eldest Archeron sister. “Where did you learn about all of this?”

Nesta shook her book a little, her face finally morphing from its permanent cool expression to a content smirk. “I read. Now leave, I’m just getting to the good part.”

An incredulous laugh passes your mouth and it doesn’t subside until you’re in the hallway, the door not even fully closed before you’re slamming into a body much bigger than your own. Hands wrap around your waist before you fall back, profanities mixed in with apologies until you recognize that smell—those hands. The dark hair hanging at his shoulders. “My bad, I was just—“

“You’re actually going.” It comes out no louder than a whisper, hazel eyes widening at the realization, hands tightening their grip on your waist as if pure brute strength alone would be all it took to make you stay.

A few seconds pass and the house suddenly seemed too small even with its many rooms and wide hallways. All rational thought scrambles with his hands on you, warmth radiating on the skin exposed at your left hip. He’s so close, the smell of his soap, the conditioner he’d no doubt used more than necessary because he liked how soft his hair felt afterwards. You take a shuddering breath, hands on his forearms, fingers curled around, unsure if you wanted to tug him closer or push him off. “Yes, I am.”

For the first time he seems to take in your attire, the sultry eye makeup, your pouty lips covered in shiny gloss and something like anger flashed in his iris as he seemed to remember who’d you claimed you were wearing it for. The warmth on your body retracts in an instant, a sneer on his mouth and you can’t help the pang that digs into your chest.

Your arms cross over your body, insecurities on overdrive at the disgust that radiated from him the longer he stared. You blink away the tears that burn at your waterline and after a sharp breath, you square your shoulders and straighten your spine. “If you’re quite finished—“

“As a matter of fact, I’m not.” Your brow quirks at his raised voice, your hand settling on a poked out hip at his outburst. “What was that back there?” Cassian questions, tone settling down to nothing but barely a whisper as he stood before you more so resembling a young boy rather than a great commander of armies. “The things you said—were they.” He stops himself, eyes closing briefly before clearing his throat. “Did you mean it?”

“Which part?”

“Which part?” He repeats as if you’ve said something stupid, hands smacking at the sides of his thighs. “All of it. You—“ Cassian stops again, eyes squinting a little as if he’d called a council meeting in his brain and the whole sleuth of determined soldiers gathered, firing off a million different possible sentences. “You want another males attention?”

You sigh, anger beginning to subside when he spoke so softly, eyes so wide and vulnerabilities beginning to make themselves known. “I do if it gets yours.”

“That’s ridiculous.” Cassian snarled, hand waving the words away as if it were smoke in the air and you force yourself not to notice the tight fit of his sleep-shirt; sleeveless and snug, the grey color doing little to hide every dip and hard ridge of his body. The sharp ‘V’ peeking from the loose sleep pants have you sucking in a harsh breath, a blush fanning as you tear your eyes away from him.

“Is it?” You sound a little distracted, mainly because of the growing need that ensued from such proximity with the Illyrian and when you begin back down the hall and towards the foyer, Cass is hot on your heels. “I mean have you even noticed anything at all this week? I’ve been practically throwing myself on you and I’m certain you don’t even have a single clue on what I’m talking about.”

There’s no need to turn back to face him, you’re positive his silence is his filing through every second that had passed since returning home, every rejected attempt at spending a second of time together, every dejected sigh, every unreciprocated declaration of love and for a split second, you think he finally gets it when a softness settles into hazel eyes. “I am the General Commander of all armies for the Night Court.“

The ember of hope dies just as quickly as it burned to life and a snarl pulls from your throat. “Obviously, I know that.”

“—I am busy.”

“I know.”

“There’s just not enough time in the day for me to complete all of my responsibilities and then come home and baby you—“

Your steps halt to a stop, body freezing in place and the rigid line of your spine seems utterly unnatural. “Oh?”

“I didn’t mean that.” Cassian waits for the yelling, maybe some tears,braces himself for a few well placed smacks before showering you in apologies. “I really didn’t mean that.”

But the yelling never comes.

“I really should get going.” Your steps continue and this time when Cassian reaches out a hand to curl around your arm, you rip it away, steps faltering in your heels as you stumble to create distance between the two of you.

“Please—“

“Save it.” The eerie calm lacing every syllable is enough to make him flinch. “I’m busy and there’s just not enough time in the day to complete my responsibilities and baby you so just fucking save it.”

Words died on his tongue, mouth still parted with the intent to explain but you’re already gone, winnowed away without so much as a glance and Cassian can’t stop staring at the spot where you once stood. His jaw clenched when he hears a sigh emit from his right and none other than Nesta stood in the archway, tissue paper curls still tied in her hair, shoulder leaned against the wall with arms crossed over her chest as she peered at the soldier. “Idiot.”

“Excuse me?”

She scoffed, glare never faltering and if Cass was being honest, she didn’t look intimidated by him in the slightest. “You heard me then, so hear me now. Keep up what you’ve been doing—keep pushing her away, neglecting her to the point where she’s skipping meals and guzzling down half her body weight in alcohol or when she looks in a mirror and stares at herself like she’s the scum beneath your shoes—“ Nesta’s voice catches and the soldier doesn’t dare comment on it with her arms now hanging in fists of rage at her sides and the growing fire in that blue-grey stare is enough to have Cassian’s fingers twitching for the hilt of his sword. “You keep that up and I’ll show you exactly what I devoured when Hybern threw me in that Cauldron.”

—

The Autumn Court certainly knew how to throw a party and after a quick scan of the attendees, your previous nerves about your revealing clothing immediately subsides. Remaining aware is an easy feat with so much to look at, bright balls of golden flames floated in the air around the room casting their romantic shadows over the crowd.

One half of the room was dedicated to food, giant tables filled with refreshments, cheeses and breads, fresh fruits and cured meats. Giant flower arrangements beckon you closer, bending at the waist to take in the smell of blushing roses and golden azaleas. “A beauty admiring beautiful things,” A voice sounded from behind you , the arrogant aura washing over like the nights tide. “That’s not something you see very often anymore around here.”

“Eris,” You greet, a picture of professionalism as you refrain from smacking him clear across his face for what he’d done to Mor alone. Instead you offer a smile when he grabs your hand and presses a kiss to the back of it. “I’m sure you say that to all the pretty ladies.”

“That may be true,” Eris held a glass of champagne casually between two fingers, his suit such a dark shade of red it appeared black in certain lighting, a fitting contrast with his crimson tresses. “—but you’re the only person I’ve said it to tonight. Stole my attention the second you stomped through the door.”

A blush begins to burn at your cheeks at the complement, face turning to the side and you busied your hands by stealing a champagne flute of your own when the waitresses in flowing auburn dresses glided by with trays full of drinks. “I did not stomp.”

“You did,” He insists over a gentle chuckle, staring down at you over the rim of his glass. You’re too busy skimming over the assortment of food to notice the way the eldest son of the High Lord of the Autumn Court is taking in your figure like you’re one of those sculptures carved from marble that resided in the museum—its beauty forever persevered for others to observe. “I looked over because I thought one of the horses had wandered in.”

The laugh that emits isn’t exactly pretty, a quick bark of a thing but Eris still smiled because it was real. “Prick.”

“That’s definitely true.” The glass of champagne is finished in one gulp, shirt unbuttoned so low you could see the entirety of his firm chest flexing as he reached out a hand. “Dance with me anyway?”

Your eyes squint up at him, taking in the offered hand carefully before copying his actions and downing your glass, hand sliding into his own when you’d set the flute down. “I had a few glasses of wine before I got here,” You say without thinking. “Don’t complain if I step on your toes.”

The grin that smears his face is purely mischievous, interlocking your arm with his own, one hand resting over yours where he’d placed it on his bicep, he leads you through the thick of the crowd. “I’m sure I can handle it.”

Eris spares a seconds worth of a glance towards the group of pristinely dressed people with all sorts of instruments in their hands, music changing on cue and the bouncy tune shifts into something slower—more sensual. He faces you fully, the distance between you no more than a few inches and the burning warmth of a hand that settles low on your waist is borderline unbearable. It had been so long since you’d been this close to a male—to any male other than Cassian and Baron’s eldest son seems to notice. “Just relax,” He croons, decades worth of entitlement evident in the smooth glide of his dancing, the movements fluid, second nature as if he’d done it every morning since the day he could stand sturdy on two legs. “I’ll protect you if your big, bad Illyrian soldier comes looking for you.”

Your head jerks back at the taunt, fingers gripping tighter where they’re loosely resting on his shoulders, the lingering smell of cedar wood and bonfire smoke, freshly cut grass and the nights breeze in the middle of August present on Eris’ skin. “Trust me, he won’t be.”

His brow quirks at the underlying heat in your tone, the flicker of upset in your eye that he nearly mistakes for a shadow from the burning balls of light above. “In that dress? He’d be an imbecile not to.” You squirm under the attention, unable to keep eye contact as doubt crept in. A finger curls under your chin, forcing your head up gently and the undeniable hunger in Eris’ eye burned hotter than the crackling flames of the bonfires outside. “You’re the most beautiful thing in here.”

“It’s not kind to lie.”

His tone shifts, a frown pulling at the corner of full lips and abruptly he stops dancing. “I have never claimed to be a kind man,” Eris informed, words firm and it takes little time for you to realize that this was now the first born heir of the Autumn Court addressing you. “Hundreds of thousands of soldiers suit up for battle and die by my command.”

Hundred of thousands?

That was certainly a higher number than Rhysand had anticipated after the war with Hybern.

“I have never claimed to be a kind man,” He repeats, his hand never leaving its spot on your hip, his finger still remained curled under your chin, thumb tracing against the line of your jaw. “But I am honest and you are the most beautiful thing in this room. The fact that you don’t already know that,” Eric lets out a gentle scoff, seemingly transfixed with your mouth. “—I should waltz through the Night Court and steal you from him myself.”

Your breath catches and you pray he can’t hear the hammering of your heart against your chest. Your lips part to say something back. What? You’re not yet sure but a familiar scent fills your senses before you can figure it out. “I’d say she’s just about done here.”

“Oh look,” Eris all but purred, lids going lazy as his gaze dragged from your face to the towering man behind you, wings pulled tight behind his back and swords sleuthed between them. “It seems your Illyrian did come after all—we should’ve put money on it.”

“I’m not much of a gambler.”

Cassian’s hand clamped around your arm, grip firm when he pulled you from Eris’ grasp and tucked you under his arm, wing fanning out to completely block you from the eldest son’s line of sight. “If you ever touch her again—“

Eris shrugged casually, an amused smile on those sharp features. “Someone should be. If you can’t get the job done then let her be with a male who will.”

It all happens so quickly, you being gently moved to the side before Cassian threw a punch right at Eris’ face. “Shit,” You snap into action, quick to use yourself as a shield between the soldier and the High Lords heir, hands firm on Cassian’s shoulders as you use all of your strength to push him back. It takes a second but he finally allows you to move him, retreating from the crowd of gaping citizens too drunk to comprehend what had even happened.

But Eris only laughs, blood staining his teeth as he watched you leave.

—

Rhysand is already at the front door when you return, jaw set and eyes dark in your anger as you stomp into the house, hands reaching down to rip your heels off as you pass him. “I take it, it didn’t go well.”

“It was going perfectly fine until that fucking overgrown pigeon showed up.”

The High Lord hides a laugh behind the back of his hand, face returning to its original expression at Cassian’s sharp glare. “So you got the intel.”

“Oh, I got it alright.” You snap as you bound through the office doors, throwing your shoes to the side as you immediately start for the High Lords liquor cabinet. “He’s got hundred of thousands of able bodied soldiers at his command.”

Rhys and Cass filter in behind you, shutting the door with a click and both keep a healthy distance from you. Rhysand watches the drink you pour, the harsh grip on the glass and the way you barely flinch at the eighty year old whiskey. Cassian is no better, hands shaking, blood smattered across five knuckles and chest heaving like a bull preparing for battle. “Alright, well then what happened?”

“Everything was going fine,” The words break from you like a dam, a mix of frustration and anger, embarrassment for all those eyes on you while Cassian caused a scene, the burning need that pulsed between your thighs watching the Illyrian punch at Eris like the sand filled bags they used at the war camps. “—we were just dancing and Eris was telling me everything until he showed up acting like some white knight and fucking punches him in the face.”

Rhysand’s lips purse into a straight line, violet eyes filled with disappointment when he turned to regard his brother but Cassian wasn’t having it. “His hands were all over her! I mean seriously Rhys, you should’ve been there—you’d have done the same shit if it was Ferye.”

There’s a pause, a moment where Rhys’ eye glaze over and Cassian remained rooted in place, hazel eyes never leaving his High Lords as he bared his mental walls and broadcasted the entire scene like a motion picture movie. “Oh,” The High Lord murmured, hands settling into his pockets after leaving Cassian’s mind. “Well since you’ve returned safety in one piece as promised, I’m going to go anywhere else but here.” He backs out of the room, a smug little smile on devilish features. “Keep it down though, people are sleeping.”

You scoff at him, intent on grabbing your shoe and throwing it at his head but Rhys is gone before you can even get it in your hands. “I’m going to bed.”

“Like hell you are,” Cassian stops you with an outstretched wing, arms crossed around his chest and stance rooted in place as he regards you firmly but there’s something in those hazel eyes that compels you to listen—to stay. “We need to talk about this.”

“What is there to talk about Cass? I had orders, I followed them and you nearly ruined everything because you don’t want me but another male wanting me is somehow much worse.”

The Lord of Bloodshed raised a brow, utter confusion lacing hard features. All the fight seems to dissipate at once and he’s quick to fill the space and take the drink from your hand. “Why would you even say that? I love you, you know that.”

“Do I?” You say but it sounds more like a whine than anything remotely worth respecting and it’s pathetic how easily your body gravitates closer to his radiating warmth. “I can’t even remember the last time we’ve even talked for this long without you disappearing off.”

A stressed sound claws its way from his throat and suddenly his hands are on you. Cupping your cheeks to keep your eyes on him, sliding down to where Eris had touched near your jaw, down the length of your neck and collarbones before stopping at the dip of fabric near your chest. “You’re right.” You’re prepared to need to explain further, to plead your case to the stubborn General but the low drag of his voice catches you completely off guard.

It feels as through he’s robbed you of breath when he continues his exploration down your frame, thumb grazing over a jewel near your heaving breast and the little whimper that it pulls from you makes your head fall down. “You’re mocking me.”

“I’m not,” He assures, palms sliding slowly up and down the length of your arms before finding their home around your waist, long fingers splayed out at your hips and for once the warmth there feels right—comforting. “You’re right.” Cassian murmured softly as he lifts you up and sets you down on the giant work desk.

Words escape you when those hazel eyes are finally on you, large body towering over your own as he rakes in your dress and it doesn’t take much to know he can surely hear the pounding of your heart against your ribcage. “I got too caught up in the work,” A finger goes with the gem lined chains at your hip and the touch sends goosebumps down your flesh. “—forgot about my duties at home.”

There’s a pause and when you look up from where his hands are touching you, you realize he was waiting for an answer, a brow raised expectantly. You nod slowly, voice barely audible. “Right.”

“Right,” His finger trails down further, down the slit on that side and his touch is greedy when feeling the soft skin of your legs. Cassian steps closer, hips caged in by your thighs and a breathy sound passed glossy lips when you feel the hardness of him press right there. “How foolish of me.”

“Cass—“

The bottom of your dress is sliding up before you can even comprehend that this was really happening, everything you’d been hoping for all those nights you’d spend stuffing yourself in those corsets and flimsy underwears for a second of this kind of love and affection. You can’t even remember what you were arguing about when you’re gently nudged to spread out for him and then the General Commander of the Night Courts armies knelt down before you. “Will you let me make it up to you?”

“I—“ But the response get stuck when his mouth begins pressing kisses into any skin he can get his hands on, suckling gentle marks on the inner parts of your thighs until you can feel his breath fanning over the flimsy pair of underwear covering you. “Fuck—I can’t think.”

“I’m sorry baby,” He croons and it’s supposed to be soothing but with his hands all over, his mouth so near to the place where you’d needed him the most for weeks now—your body is on overdrive, squirming and desperate for a breath of air that isn’t laced with Cassian’s seductive words and eyes that were telling you everything he planned to do to you before he’d actually done it. “Such a pretty thing like you should never have to wait so long to feel good. Could you ever forgive me?” It comes out so soft, almost patronizing when he pulls your undergarments to the side and pressed a kiss to your weeping cunt.

A string of profanities tumble past your mouth and your hands are grasping for purchase at your sides to brace yourself but you can’t focus and every single inch of your body felt like it was being kissed by lightening. “Cassian, please.”

“Don’t beg me baby,” He’s not even looking at you anymore, too focused on running his fingers through the sloppy mess between your thighs. “Command it—I’m at your mercy.”

The words pull something out of you, a moan that can’t be contained and your hand digs into thick dark hair to guide his face back to your pussy, voice cracking with want when you pant out, “Show how sorry you are and don’t stop until I tell you.”

Cassian’s tongue is lapping at your dripping sex before you can even finish your sentence, words replaced by broken moans as he fucked you with his tongue like those sweet ice creams Elaine always had in the freezer. It’s instinctual the way your hips buck up into his mouth, legs shaky and toes curling around the edge of the desk as that tight coil in your belly grew tighter. He only groans when you cum on his tongue, fingers breaching past your clenching hole while he worked you through it.

Nothing can tame the ravenous moans that emerge, breathless gasps and hands that rip the dress up higher just to watch him work. “Cass,” His name breaks on your tongue, head thrown back and the gravely groan that rumbles through his chest is enough for you to begin to pull away; legs too shaky and body too boneless to hold yourself up but the grip around your waist is too tight. “Fuck, I can’t—“

He doesn’t stop. He doesn’t hear you or maybe he just doesn’t give a fuck because once he’s started he really wouldn’t stop and you worried that if he’d ripped another orgasm from you so soon, you’d pass out. “Cass, please.” Your legs won’t stop moving, toes spreading and curling at his shoulders and you suck in a greedy breath. “Need your cock—I want it Cass please.”

His movements slow to a halt, fingers retreating, mouth dripping and chin glistening when he stands to his full height, wings spread out behind as stiff as the fat cock straining under his fighting leathers. “That’s all you had to say.” Cassian doesn’t even bother fully taking them off, just undoing the buckle and sliding it down enough to fish out his length and tap it gently between your thighs. “I really am sorry, you know.” He confesses, his cock sliding between your slick lips and when the thick head of his tip catches your clit your eyes flutter shut. “So, so fucking sorry.”

The emotion in his voice makes you chin wobble a little and you push away the need to say more when his tip teases your entrance. “I know.” Your hand raised to caress his cheek, to tuck back the dark strands of hair that hang hear his shoulders and the your comforting tone shifts into something different—slower and filled with need as you spread your legs wide, dress sliding from your shoulders and neither of you move to pull it away from where it bunches at your middle. “But, if you fuck me real good, I might just forgive you.”

A glint shines in those hazel eyes. “Is that an order?”

Your hands brace yourself on his neck, grin matching his own. “It’s a command, General.”

Taglist:

@justdreamstars @star611 @wallacewillow0773638 @amara-moonlight @beezusvreeland @aroseinvelaris @naturakaashi

[jarofstyles]

harry damn near begging for yn and being needy, mouthing at her neck chest and stomach while she’s trying to read plsss

PLEASE I LOVE THIS SHIT!

Patreon.

-----

Harry was a horny little menace. But god, was he a convincing one.

It had started when he crawled into her cozy little nest in their bed, cooing about how pretty she looked. In her glasses and her hair thrown up in a bun, along with a few pimple patches, she was sure she wasn't at her prime but it always did give her butterflies when he complimented her in her most relaxed, vulnerable state.

When he asked what she was read, she explained the general synopsis of what had happened so far- a royal romance, enemies to lovers-, and he had snuggled closer. Freshly showered, he was shirtless in just in a pair of grey sweats, skin and hair still slightly damp as he rested his head on her shoulder to catch a glimpse of the pages. But his intentions weren't pure.

"Oh? This is one of those dirty books, isn't it?" He cooed. Of course, as fate would have it, he had turned up during one of the smut scenes in the book. He knew she read filth, had an entire collection of smut ridden books, but this time in particular he felt rather smug about catching her.

"They're all dirty books." She drawled, turning the book so he could see better. He had a one track mind though, and turned his face to bury in her neck with a deep exhale. If he was being honest, he had been aching all day. Y/N had teased him slightly over text and he knew coming home that she would be in his shirt, looking so soft and familiar, he simply wanted to bury himself in her and never leave. Getting to see her so warm and relaxed, it did things to him.

"I have a better idea." He murmured into her skin, kissing the smoothness of her neck. "Why don't we have our own fun, hm? Been gone all day, wanting to come home... and you're reading' about other people having sex." He grunted, slipping his hand under her shirt, nosing at her like a needy pup.

"Well, yes." Y/N laughed through her nose. "I do tend to do that. I enjoy reading some tasteful sex scenes. Beautifully written ones. Is that so wrong?"

"Never said it was wrong, sweetness. Just said the obvious. M'home now, you don't need to read about it." His hand found her breast as his kisses moved up towards her jaw, sloppy with his movements and smearing the wet kisses over the curve of it. "You can experience anything y'want with me. M'ready to role-play, even. Just let me into that pretty pussy, and I'll make all those dreams come true, off the paper."

Of course Y/N knew she was fighting a losing battle- one she very clearly wanted to lose, based off of the sudden awareness of him in between her thighs and his fingers gently plucking her nipple. He liked to beg for it a little bit, though, so she sighed. "I dunno, H. This scene is really good. Maybe you'll just have to wait." The tone of her voice sounded serious but they both knew the game. This was part of it.

"Please, baby?" He whined. "Just a taste of it? Or... can let me warm myself inside of you." His teeth nibbled under her ear, a sweet spot he knew would cause damage to her resolve, sucking on the skin. Y/N felt it between her thighs. That familiar pulsing, her clit beginning to swell, her hole beginning to leak. Harry had quite the effect on her every single time, but hearing him beg always did it to her.

"Please, jus' let me make us feel good. Know you love t'be nice and full, can have it stuffed in you in just a few minutes... get you to feel it in your tummy, baby." He pleaded. "Cmon. Can make it so good for you. Missed feeling you wrapped around me all day, didn't get enough of you this morning." A horny thing he really was. "Can't help that you feel so good that I need you all the time, but m'dying for it. Been thinking about it all day long, just let me slide in." He continued with the begging, slipping his hand back down to the band of her panties.

When Y/N didn't tell him off, he slipped his digits between her thighs and let out a strangled moan. "Fuck me, baby. You're dripping." He whimpered. "Please, let me have it. Let me feel you around my cock, babylove. It aches, you're the only way to fix it." He was getting desperate, rubbing against her thigh as his fingers slid up and down her wet slit. "M'begging you, my love. Let me in."

"Okay, baby. Okay." Y/N laughed at his desperation. "You can slip inside, but you can't move until I finish this chapter." Harry didn't need further instruction, slipping his pants off and tugging her panties to the side with impatience. It took him but a few seconds to do it, spreading her legs open as he turned her on her side so he was spooning her from behind and letting himself in. Slowly pressing the ruddy, leaking tip of his cock through the soaked folds of her puffy cunt and finding her hole, notching against it before pressing inside.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you." His whimper was vibrated against her ear, making her clench slightly around him. He was truly desperate for it, letting her stretch as he sunk in inch by inch and rested his head against her cheek, hand going back up her shirt. "I'll be good. Promise."

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

@hammerhead96 I AM BITING THIS! I am so sorry it took 45 years <3

Anselm Vogelweide x gn!Reader • Rating: PG pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • buy me a coffee? • ask-travaganza masterlist •

Summary: You paint Anselm's portrait.

Warnings: Fluff, Anselm has siblings here, I'm just making stuff up, little bit of jealous!Anselm, kissing, not beta read, please let me know if I have missed a warning!

Word Count: 2311

“Stop moving.” You glare politely at Anselm over the canvas.  

He smiles sweetly at you from his position on the chair in the middle of the room. The large floor length curtains are drawn, letting in the late morning sunshine. He’s sat at a slight three quarter angle, his scared side facing you. 

It had been his sister that had commissioned you, Adela Vogelweide, a gift for his birthday. The fact that she’d chosen you had surprised you. You knew she had enough personal wealth to hire practically anyone in the world for whatever exorbitant amount they wanted and still consider it small change. 

Adela had seen some of your pieces at a local gallery showing, the curator an old friend of yours, where she had quite loudly enquired about the price of your largest landscape. Paid three times the asking amount, and then said it was still undervalued. 

She had called you up personally after convincing your friend to let her use their phone. The first words she’d spoken to you when you picked up were, “Why are you underselling yourself?” 

Adela was brazen and kind, with a quick temper she had never directed at you. She dyed her hair black, something she delighted in telling you, except for two streaks that framed her face, those she kept in her natural grey. She had also delighted herself in telling you all about her older brother Anselm, and what a nuisance he was, a rapscallion, but a loveable one. And wouldn’t you be a dear and paint his portrait? 

This was your fourth sitting.

“You said I could move a little, my dear?” He gives you a cheeky grin. 

You poke your head around the canvas again, purposefully benign a little more dramatic than you truly need to be, because you know it amuses him. 

“Emphasis on a little.” 

His smile widens. “Am I moving too much?” He feigns innocence badly. 

You give him a look. “Yes. Stop fidgeting.” 

“My leg.” He pouts, and rubs his thigh. 

“Anselm.” 

“Yes, my dear?” 

“That leg is not the one with your brace on.” 

He chuckles and then quickly puts on a mock serious expression. “Can’t my other leg hurt? My, my, this is most uncaring of you, and here I thought you such a sweet person.” 

“Well, you thought wrong then, didn’t you?” You carry on painting, adding a little shading. Most of the sittings so far were just to get a feel for him as a subject. You’d completed several rough sketches and paintings, and taken umteenth reference photos. 

“I don’t think so, my dear, I’m a very good judge of character.” 

“Would you say that runs in the family?” You ask nonchalantly. 

“How so?” 

“Is Adela a good judge of character?” 

He pauses for a moment and then nods, “She is.” 

“She warned me about you.” You say offhandedly and Anselm cackles with glee.

“Did she?” 

“She did.” 

“How marvellous. Did she tell you I’m a wretched and depraved lust filled bloodthirsty tyrant?” 

You pause, “No.”

“What did she say?” He strokes his beard slightly.

“That you were cheeky.” 

He tuts. “Now, that is a gross misrepresentation, I will have to have words with her.” 

“Don’t get me in trouble.” You giggle. 

“Now, now, my dear. She’ll most likely tell me off for some reason, probably for my playful, but oh so charming treatment of you, wouldn’t you say?” 

You give him another look and he laughs. 

“You disagree?” 

“Stop fishing for compliments.”

“Ah, but I must. You haven’t said one kind thing to me all morning.” He folds his arms, pretending to huff. 

“First, that is untrue, second, stop moving.” 

He grins, “My apologies,” and puts his arms back down. “My dear Adela does love to scold me, despite being the younger sibling. You would think she was twelve years my senior, not junior… It is the different father I think.” He smiles fondly. 

“You have different fathers?” 

He nods, “You are enquiring about the surname yes?” 

You nod as well. 

“Well, my mother is Magdalena Vogelwiede, the only child of my grandfather who lived past infancy. She kept the family name and refused to change it when she married, not that any of her husbands would have dared to argue with her, besides all of them coveted the prestige of being part of the Vogelwiede family. All of her children were given her last name.”

“Do you have other siblings?” You ask, still holding your paintbrush but you have given up most pretences of actually working. The way he talked was almost hypnotic. Soothing. You could happily listen for hours. 

“I do, I had an older brother, Wilhelm, who died very young. When my father died, my mother remarried and had Adela and Helena. She divorced my step-father when Helena was two, shame, as I was quite fond of him. She didn’t marry the father of my youngest sister, Libeste. But that was a very good thing, he was a terrible bore.”

You smile, delighting in the fondness in his expression. “Is she still with us?” 

He nods, “She is, going very strong. She lives in Italy with her suitor, a toy boy.”

“Toy boy?” You snort. 

“He’s only sixty eight.” He chuckles. 

“Scandalous.” You grin. 

“I like him very much, his name is Alvin, like the chipmunks. Which is what he said to me the first time I met him, a very sweet man, utterly besotted with my mother, the poor fool.”

“The poor fool?”

“She bullies him so,” Anselm sighs fondly, “But he does love it. So I think they are meant to be with each other.” 

You barely manage another five minutes of painting before Anselm has to take an emergency meeting. He apologises profusely and kisses your hand when you leave. You do your best to hide your giddiness when his lips touch your skin.

The following Thursday you’re back at his house, mansion, just about to get out of your car when your phone rings. Adela. 

You press accept. “Hello, Adela.” 

“My darling, how are you? Are you well?” Her voice practically purrs on the other end of the phone.

“I’m good, you?” 

“Fine, fine, listen, I am having a small get together tomorrow night, I will send a car for you. Yes?” 

“I,” You pause, ever so slightly taken aback. “Well…”

“You are free of course?” 

“Well, I was going to work on the portrait-”

“Oh, don’t worry about that, you have plenty of time, I understand art works can take years.”

“I don’t think it’ll take me years, I mean-”

“See? You are already ahead of schedule then my darling, 8pm the car will come. It’s a small thing, barely a hundred people, casual dress. And I mean it, wear jeans and a t-shirt if you want, or nothing at all.”

You open your mouth to speak and close it again as she continues.

“I simply must introduce you to my son. Anyway, see you then, ciao!” 

She hangs up before you can even say a word. 

You’re setting up in the ground floor study when Anselm comes in. His expression is stormy, you would almost say bleak if it wasn’t for the hard look in his eyes. 

He sits on the chair without his usual exuberance, muttering a quiet “Good morning.” 

You pause, still setting up your easel. Part of you isn’t sure if you know him well enough to ask about what’s bothering him, even though he’s been nothing but forthcoming and charming with you. You swallow down your anxiety.

“Are you okay?” 

“Hmm,” he nods and doesn’t look at you.”Perfectly well.” 

You bite your thumbnail nervously, but don’t ask again. You set up the rest of your equipment in silence. 

The quiet is odd. You realise you’re so used to hearing him talk, to being swept up in his tales that now the room seems hollow and barren without them. Cold and sterile. The grandfather clock in the corner ticks loudly, echoes sickeningly. 

Nothing seems to be going quite right, your colours are wrong, the shape irregular. 

You’ve been working for around twenty minutes when Anselm finally talks. 

“Has my sister invited you yet?” He’s a little gruff, a huff in his voice.

“I’m sorry?” You look up from your work.

“Invited you… to her gathering tomorrow?” 

“Oh, erm,” You stumble over your words, the hard look he gives you is practically alien, so unlike his usual smiles. “Yes, she called me just as I got here.” 

Anselm’s expression hardens. For a moment you don’t think he’s going to speak again. “She wants you to meet David, her eldest.” 

You pause, not sure if you should reply, but you do anyway. “Yeah, erm, she mentioned it briefly… not that I really got a word in.” You laugh weakly, maybe he was annoyed at how long it was taking you to start on the painting? “Honestly, I was planning on working on your portrait, but I didn’t really get a chance to refuse the invitation.” 

He hums again, sighing and slumps down a little in his chair. “He got divorced last year, you know?” 

It takes you a full minute to realise he’s talking about David. 

“Clean break, his ex-wife was very reasonable. No children.” He sighs again, “A perfectly eligible bachelor.” He runs his hand through his hair, pushing his curls in a completely different direction. 

“Anselm,” you tut, briefly forgetting the tense atmosphere, you walk around the easel and towards him, your hand outreached to fix his hair before you catch yourself. You stop, pausing right in front of him.

He looks up at you with soft eyes. “I apologise, my love. I did not mean to disrupt your work with my bad mood.” 

“It’s alright,” you smile slightly, “We all get annoyed.” 

“I’m sure you are rapturous in anger, all dragon fire and destruction.” 

You snort. “I am not.” 

He smiles and leans forward, pressing his head towards your hand. “I am sorry I disturbed my hair.” 

“It’s fine,” you lightly run your fingers through his curls, careful not to catch or pull as you move it back into its previous style. You motion for him to sit back so that you can position the last few rogue strands. You touch his hair for a little longer than absolutely necessary, swallowing as you press your fingers deeper. 

Anselm breathes in deeply, closing his eyes for a second and presses closer to your touch. 

“Is your nephew getting engaged or something, does Adela want me to paint a portrait of him too? Is that why I’m invited?” You ask innocently as you finally adjust his hair to your liking. You drop your hand to your side, a little disappointed that you no longer have a reason to touch him.

He opens his eyes slowly, staring up at you with a small frown. “My sweet, are you being serious, or pulling my leg? Because if it is the latter, I must say it is poor form considering my injury.” He motions a little dramatically to his brace.

“What?” You shrug a little, trying to work out what the hell he’s on about.

A small smile pulls at his lips when he realises you are being sincere. “My dear Adela wants to set you up with David, tomorrow is a formal introduction of sorts.” 

You pause, a little dumbfounded and Anselm chuckles. 

“My, the look on your face, you do not seem pleased.” He, however, is the happiest you have seen him all morning. 

“Here,” Anselm stands, “I’ll get my assistant to bring you a photo of David,” the tease in his voice is undeniable. “So that you may gaze about the face of your future beloved.” 

You finally find your voice. “Anselm.” You scold.

He grins wickedly, turning to face you fully. “I do love it when you use that tone with me, my sweet. Admonishing me does suit you.” He steps a fraction closer, raising his hand to lightly brush your cheek with the tips of his fingers. “I would happily die a thousand deaths to be under your thumb.” 

You swallow. “I don’t want you to die a thousand deaths… or be under my thumb.” You say softly, trying to say that you want him safe and alive and of his own strange but endearing free will.

But Anselm’s expression falls and he lowers his hand, mistaking your words for rejection. “I apologise again-”

Panic grips your chest and you blurt out the first thing that comes into your head. “But you can be under me if you want… as in…” Heat rolls over your face and you screw up your eyes. 

He laughs happily, stepping closer again so that you are chest to chest. He lightly traces your bottom lip with his thumb. “May I kiss you, my love?” 

With a giddy rush of energy, you lean forward and press your mouth to his in a soft, sweet kiss. Anselm moans happily, wrapping one arm around you. When you break the kiss he leans his forehead against yours. 

“Please forgive my foul mood earlier, I was… distressed.” 

“Why?” You tease, a sugar rush of happiness overtaking you. 

“Because I thought you were going to spend the rest of your days riding my nephew instead of me.” 

You snort, unable to stop yourself, and quickly cover your mouth with your hand. 

“Oh no, please, let me hear you laugh.” He gently takes your wrist and litters your cheeks with kisses, until you’re giggling uncontrollably. 

“Well, I’ll have to let Adela know there’s no need for me to go tomorrow.” 

Anselm tuts and raises an eyebrow, “I don’t think so, my love, I think it will be much more exciting to turn up on my arm and then proceed to make out messily on every available surface.” 

Thank you for reading!

@pleasurebuttonwrites @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @whatthefishh

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[meiguicha]

AITA for complimenting my colleague - Update 1

Blade x Fem!Reader - Reddit exists AU

hrghgerghgh

Original Post - Final Update

r/AmItheAsshole ~ 4 day. ago

easternskiesonamoonlitnight

My (???F) colleague (???M) hasn't killed me yet. But I'm pretty sure I only have about three system hours before he actually does.

Before I get started with the update, I just wanna address some of the comments as well as add some relevant information.

I am physically very affectionate with my other colleagues and since most of us are female, casual affection is very common between us. As such, I had, in the heat of the moment and I fully understand it was uncalled for, done the same for Dao.

Our job however involves some dubious content at times, so it's really important that we do trust one another, and I guess calling my colleagues that is kinda misleading but eh.

No, I cannot say exactly what I do for work, but just know it involves a lot of travelling. And also quitting is really not an option, lowkey think even if I did, he'd still come find me.

Lastly, Dao is not some ruthless violent meathead. He's very gentle with my other colleagues and I guess me at times. I have no idea what that commenter was going on about but one of my other colleagues has since informed me about 'ass comprehension' so yeah.

Anyways, Dao is still doing all the things he did in my previous post but now he's a little more touchier.

I don't know. We've had one other very short task right after our first one, and at one point he herded me like sheep into an alleyway when a crowd had started to form. It was kinda scary but at the same time I think my attraction to him worsened.

Dao is a pretty big guy so it was like a lightbulb moment in my head. Being so close to him really puts into perspective how easily he could just snap my spine in half like a twig, not to mention he's physically way stronger than me.

Like, he's really big and when he put his hand on my back, I think I could feel blood rush everywhere but my head.

Recently one of my more senior colleagues, I'll call her Franz (???F), also has started dropping some really cryptic hints regarding Dao and at first, I just thought she was being her usual self. Then when my other colleague, Grey Dog (???F) also started being weird, i.e, asking me about flowers and my favourite foods, I realised maybe something was wrong.

I guess the final nail in my coffin was when my closest colleague, Glow worm (???F), had comforted me on something about "emotions being hard to come to terms to, and change is scary but sometimes we need to just accept what is coming.".

Even if you ignore all that, not even the aeons could possibly plan whatever bullshit just happened.

Dao went on a solo task earlier in the week, and I was working on some last minute repairs on my equipment when I felt something on my shoulders. I thought Grey Dog was being stupid again and absentmindedly petted the person on the head.

I looked and regretted it immediately. He came back early and was covered in blood.

It wasn't his.

I panicked and kinda dropped everything to clean him up, and he said nothing to me the whole time, just let me fuss over him. After that, I went back to doing my work and I could feel him just staring. He stayed the entire time and I guess I passed out at one point because when I woke up, he left his still bloodied coat on me.

Important part is that I got a really cryptic note on my door today and Dao basically told me to get ready.

Am I going to die? Did my colleagues know what he's going to do to me and were just trying to comfort me in my last moments?

I'm just hoping that he'll at least be quick with it OTL. If I don't update, please assume that he definitely killed me.

GalacticBaseballer069 ~ 3 system hr. ago ~ don't die, please. do you guys take job offers.... pleek.....

RealName_Online ~ 12 system hr. ago ~ The misunderstanding is actually insane, lol TileGamer4ever ~ 9 system hr. ago ~ Maybe OP and Dao really are perfect for each other.

Code_Action! ~ 2 day. ago ~ what is up with these goofy ahh names

QuietonDeck ~ 17 system hr. ago ~ How is it possible for someone to be so dumb? Genuinely, you see all these warning signs and yet have the audacity to post things like this acting all oblivious as if you're blind. It's like your brain is rotting from your one-sided attraction to him that you can find things like how big he is and how easily he could kill you attractive. If this keeps up, I wouldn't be surprised if you pop up in the news dea... Read more Theyearspasson ~ 16 system hr. ago ~ you wanna kiss OP so bad it makes you look stupid.

[cyber333angel]

MARRIED!NANAMI KENTO & MARRIEDSECRETARY! READER

CAUTION ⚠️

This work contains: use of the word daddy, a itty bitty age gap, praise, exhibition, breeding kink

NOTE: (not too long) awaited nanami fic 😱 I didn’t like how I first wrote it so I scrapped it and started over but I really like how it turned out! enjoy 😉

you started working at the JJK firm at the ripe age of 20, hired by none other than nanami kento. your boss was very well known business man and being his secretary you had attended a lot of meetings to take notes, manage his schedule and answer the phone . you watched him walk into his large office every day, staring at him from the top of your laptop, you saw glimpses of how he stretched the grey suit with his muscular upper body. you developed a crush on nanami, thinking only of him at night whenever you touched yourself. remembering how deep his voice sounded, and what he would sound like if he talked you through taking the full length of his cock. quickly remembering where you were, you bit your lip and went back to work. kento knew you had a little crush on him, you being completely obvious with the staring he thought it was cute.

he got exhausted with not actually getting to know you, so he asked you to “schedule a dinner for the two of us for next saturday” , you flustered at the invitation “yes sir.” and told him you were looking forward to it. the date was sensational, the two of you learned so much about each other, what foods you both liked to the worst date you’ve ever had . dating him only went on for about two years , until nanami decided to ask you to marry him! it was a beautiful wedding all paid for by him, of course, it was everything you could dream of and more. after the wedding you never quit you job , in fact you kept working directly under your husband. abusing this new privilege, kento lost all professionalism, he would call you into his office over the smallest things just to make an excuse to see you. “what time do I have to arrive at the meeting tomorrow?” you roll your eyes at him because he knows this meeting was canceled days ago, he chuckles at your reaction “im just poking fun, come sit down.” you look at him and walk over to his chair, straddling his lap.

“you look so beautiful in this outfit, sweetheart.” you smile, “t’aw! thank you ken, but you saw me with it on before we left the house and you complimented me already.” you put both your hands on his cheeks to lean in for a quick kiss. “i know, i just want my pretty wife to know how much i love her pretty face.” still with biggest grin, your husband pulls you closer to him from your waist and indulges in a deeper, more passionate kiss . he presses his tongue into your mouth and you melt into his touch, quiet pants are muffled between the two of you. kento with his mouth still stuck to yours, clears his desk of paperwork and clutter. he manhandles you to sit on top of the desk “b-baby I don’t think I can stay quiet if we do it in your office..” ignoring you, nanami puts his hands up your skirt reaching and grabbing you stockings and panties together and bunching them together at the bottom of your heels. you knew kento didn’t get like this unless something was bothering him. only about 5 times surprisingly he had fucked you in his office, given it was at the end of the day and people had already left. this was a different situation. wanting to cheer him up, you stroke his hair “s’alright if you use me ken.” he lets his head fall into your hand and he sighs, “thank you baby. I had a bit of a rough morning.”

“lay back down for me.” you rest your head on the hard surface immediately after the demand, he lifts both of your legs up connected by the clothing scrunched up at the base of your feet. bending down- “sweetheart, i never get enough of the sight of this sweet pussy..” shying away at the compliment you squirm from him causing his hands to tighten the grip. opening his mouth, a wet glob slips from his tongue and onto your cunt. hitching at the contact, your husband takes his thumb and spreads the wad of spit across your folds. “mmm ken! please hurry up!” you plead, not satisfied with the urgency in which you ask for, sternly, “good girls take what they are given, calm down.” kento takes his two hands and puts them on the sides of your ass, he thrust two fingers into your cunt and starts lapping at your little clit, sucking on the little bud, two fingers pumping away at your hole gradually making you climax. “f-fuck daddy! that felt so good..” finishing on his face he warns you.

“we don’t use those words remember pretty girl?” you nod forgetting in the moment, you watch kento as he unbuckles his belt and pulls out his hardened cock. it stood tall, not too thick in girth but made up for it in length. “your gonna need to relax and breath for me alright?” understanding what he means you respond with a quick “mhm!” you take a deep breath in and feel him prodding at your entrance. breathing out kento places his hand on your pelvis, pulling his hips back a bit and then thrusting back fully inside you. you gasp with a heartened cry at the sudden fill of your cunt, you cry. “oh god!”

“good girl” he caresses your face “you take daddy’s dick so good..so fuckin good.” arching your back off the desk “mmph ken..your reaching me so d-deep!”

“oh i know, i knoww sweetheart, it feels good doesn’t it?” you respond with a loud cry, kento reminded of where the two of you are “baby-baby i need to listen t’me okay? you need to keep your voice down. I know you feel good but we aren’t the only people in this building.” embarrassed by the way you were acting you shrivel up “im s-sorry kento! il try to keep quiet!” your husband aspires you for the effort “thats my girl.”

you cover your mouth with one hand, trying to muffle your moans. the other hand on kento’s stomach, your weak attempt to slow him down. “let’s wrap this up hmm sweetie?” you nod quickly, he knows you tighten up and cum faster when you hear his voice so a series of praise leaves his lips to help you cum.

“you make daddy feel so good, yknow that right baby?”

“I know how bad you have wanted a baby, honey, il fill this pussy up and give you what you want, hmm? how does that sound?”

he fucks you hard but talks to you gently until you can’t take it anymore, creaming on his dick, you arch fully off the desk spasmming and gasping. he fills your stomach and you completely feel the load of a warm substance in your body. kento takes his fingers and pushes back any cum that leaked out, back into your destroyed hole. “augh!” you hiccup, not letting you catch your breath he grabs you off the desk he helps you stand, bending down to help you put your panties back on. gliding the fabric up your thighs and carful to leave his semen in place. kissing your stomach, the insides that he has just gotten finished messing up, he worked himself up to your head. “you better keep it warm and safe for me honey. I don’t want a single drop to slip out before we get home.” giving you a loving kiss, leaving you a little ditzy, you pat yourself off and looking for the papers you had originally walked in with. on your way out you hear him clear his throat, “yes and tell the other firm they will be expecting me tomorrow for that meeting.” looking at his computer in a serious voice, you giggle remembering the earlier excuse and close his door, sitting back at your front desk your met with some side eyes and lots of missed calls.

[eiflawriting]

Hiya! I was wondering if maybe you could write something like kyoraku fucking you in a sundress? Like you’ve planned a picnic date and then he sees you all dressed up in a pretty yellow sundress and makes you sit on his face in the middle of the park? Ty love x

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𝐘𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀𝐬𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐢 𝐤𝐲ō𝐫𝐚𝐤𝐮

(✧) ─ 𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 shunsui finally has a day off from his captain duties, so y/n decides to plan a romantic picnic to help him relax. upon seeing her in that pretty little dress, he thought of other ways to do so.

(✧) ─ 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔! black woman who uses she/her pronouns ─ chubby!reader. established relationship ── husband x wife. same couple from goodmorning, my love. part ii. to my four part series. NO MANGA SPOILERS. third POV, usage of profanity, praising and breeding kink, VOYEURISM ── public s3x. oral!receiving ── face sitting, missionary position, terms of endearment ── cupcake, sweetheart, my love, angel, baby, pretty girl, etc. squirting, creampie. this is just some passionate love making in the garden. shunsui is wearing a yukata and i think it's hot. 3.3k word count.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀(✧) ─ 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒆𝒔

my goodness. first of all, im sorry this request took so long. i have like three different versions of this fic written, but decided to go with this one. i absolutely love it. nonnie, i hope you're still here with me lol. i also just came off a writing hiatus, so im going to try to knock out my other requests, which are also bleach characters, hehe. shoutout to nonnie for being my first completed request. ヾ( ˃ᴗ˂ )◞ • *✰ no more rambling. i hope y'all enjoy. interactions would be greatly appreciated. �� eighteen plus only. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

𝑺𝑯𝑼𝑵𝑺𝑼𝑰 𝑺𝑰𝑷𝑷𝑬𝑫 𝑯𝑰𝑺 𝑺𝑨𝑲𝑬 𝑺𝑰𝑳𝑬𝑵𝑻𝑳𝒀 𝑨𝑺 𝑯𝑬 𝑾𝑨𝑻𝑪𝑯𝑬𝑫 𝒀/𝑵 𝑷𝑶𝑼𝑹 𝑯𝑬𝑹𝑺𝑬𝑳𝑭 𝑨 𝑪𝑼𝑷, 𝑨𝑵𝑫 𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑵𝑬𝑫 𝑻𝑶 𝑾𝑶𝑹𝑫𝑺 𝑳𝑬𝑨𝑽𝑰𝑵𝑮 𝑯𝑬𝑹 𝑴𝑶𝑼𝑻𝑯. His grey irises were glued to Y/N, mesmerized by her gorgeous appearance. A day never went by when Shunsui wasn't obsessed with her beauty, but today he found himself staring more than usual. Did it have something to do with the substance circulating his system or the short yellow dress Y/N was wearing? 

Maybe both. 

When Shunsui saw Y/N, he felt himself coming undone in the yukata she picked out for him to wear. He wondered where she got this dress from? Perhaps a gift from Rukia when she returned from the World of the Living? If so, he would surely thank her the next time he ran into her.

The dress held Y/N's curves perfectly. With every step she took, her tits bounced like they were dying to be freed. A few times on the stroll to the garden, the wind blew heavily to expose her garments. The pervert in Shunsui wanted the wind to blow harder to reveal more, but of course, the gentleman in him helped Y/N adjust. 

Shunsui declared yellow was Y/N's color. It complimented her deep brown skin well—and the sun couldn't agree more, descending upon her complexion to illuminate the natural glow she already had. To think this day was supposed to be reserved for spending time with Y/N and relaxing. All he could think about was fucking her in that pretty little dress. Well, that sounds quite relaxing to him, at least. 

"My love, you're staring," Y/N said while her eyes remained focused on rummaging through the picnic basket. 

Of course, he was. How couldn't he? If only she could witness the lewd thoughts permeating Shunsui's mind. They were beyond obscene, visualizing her thighs suffocating his face while he ate her pussy until she was a cumming mess. Fucking Y/N, gazing at her tits bouncing invitingly until they fell out her top. He knew she wasn't wearing a bra either. The dress's material was thin enough to have her nipples peek through. 

Fuck, she was so damn sexy. Shunsui's cock was growing harder the longer he watched.

"Can you blame me for having a beautiful wife?"

Y/N wrinkled her nose. "Hmm, maybe you're right. I can't blame you, but you could at least say what's on your mind."

"Why do you think something's on my mind?"

"Hmm, maybe because you're giving me those bedroom eyes, and your cheeks are quite red. I know you could handle your liquor."

He chuckled, using his free hand to throw up in defeat. "You got me. You'll probably think I'm a pervert if I tell you what's on my mind."

"Baby—I thought you were a pervert since we met. I don't think a few of your wet fantasies would make me think otherwise." The laugh he belted from his stomach pulled strings in Y/N's heart. So genuine. He needed this day. 

Shunsui leaned back to pat on his lap, wanting Y/N to take comfort, which she had no issue doing. A delightful ache rushed to his cock from feeling Y/N's clothed sex on him. Her lips were ghosting over his, inches from kissing but instead taking in the lingering aroma of sake. She brushed her nose along the bridge of his nose, an intimate gesture they did to express their love, before wrapping her arms around Shunsui's neck and finding his lips. 

While sharing a heated kiss, Y/N began rubbing her pussy on Shunsui to pull those husked groans from his chest. His free hand rested on the small of her back to aid the rolling motion of her hips. Y/N halted her movements to softly gasp due to feeling his erection grow against her clothed sex. However, Shunsui saw no reason for her to stop. 

Shunsui chugged the last of his sake before grabbing Y/N's legs to wrap around him, having her comfortably straddle him. He placed his hands on her hips to continue her movements while massaging each other's lips. Every moan, grunt, and plea was devoured with the intent of wanting to do more than just make out, especially for Shunsui. 

A greedy man he was when it came to Y/N. He wanted to discover every kink and pinpoint of her body until all her weaknesses were revealed. Any chance he had was used to taking his time pleasing her in ways she didn't know was possible, but Shunsui made it so. And today would just be another one of those experiments. 

"I want you to bear my children, my love," Shunsui rasped, pecking her lips between words before peppering kisses along her neck. "You look so damn beautiful and sexy in this dress. I want to fuck you while you wear it."

"Mmm, let's go back—"

He shook his head. "No. Right here. Let me fuck you right here in the middle of the garden."

"S-Shunsui—I don't know if I'll be able to be quiet. And what if someone sees us?" Y/N words barely came out as normal. Her breathy moans only indicated she was on board with him. 

He tugged her earlobe between his teeth, whispering, "Hmm, conservative now, are we? I recall you stopping by before my captain meetings a few times because you said you missed me—And lunch wasn't the only thing you were dropping off."

Shunsui earned a knowing look from Y/N that was filled with desire. She didn't even bother to argue because it was true. Y/N genuinely visited Shunsui at the barracks to bring him lunch. But there was just something about seeing him tend to his captain duties that had a pleasurable ache rush to her center. And let's just say when Shunsui walked her out of the room, she attracted a few stares from his subordinates. 

She nipped on her bottom lip, letting out a deflating sigh. "Why have I married you again?"

"Because you love me, and I love you. Now come here—Sit on my face." Shunsui wasted no time laying on his back to prepare to feast on Y/N. She attempted to remove her dress, but he stopped her. "I was very serious when I said I want to please you while you wear this dress, sweetheart."

He sat up a bit to grab Y/N's waist to pull her onto his face, causing her to giggle. That giggle soon turned into a soft moan upon feeling Shunsui lap at her clit through her panties. The barrier of her garments acted as a tease and a surprise for something great. Her natural odor graced his nostrils, reminding him how he became pussydrunk, to begin with. 

The feeling of Y/N's pussy being toyed with through her panties was a great delight—as if the material of her garments gave her clit more friction. She even found herself riding his face in hopes of reaching her release quicker. But she should know that Shunsui took his time pleasing her. 

Libido was pumping through their veins, but mainly Y/N. Shunsui was a tease in more ways than one. However, she felt like she was on the edge of a mountain. She was desperate to cum, and although her orgasm was right there—it wouldn't come. Not until his tongue was pleasing her without the barrier. It felt like an everlasting sensation of falling out of the sky. 

Y/N hiked up her dress to look down at Shunsui, seeing that pretty scarlet color decorate his cheeks. She just knew he was enjoying taunting her. His mouth was preoccupied, but his eyes twinkled a light of mischief and ecstasy. Y/N thought he looked so sexy smothered between her thighs, but she needed more, and she didn't mind begging for it. 

"Baby, stop teasing me—please."

"Gosh, I just love when you're so needy and impatient for me, angel. Just this once, I'll give you what you want."

He slipped Y/N's panties to the side to attack her clit. He groaned from having her taste on his tongue, joyfully rolling his eyes back. Shunsui was hungry for this pussy. Taking care of Y/N was the highlight of his day. If only he could spend every day like this—spreading her ass cheeks to obnoxiously eat her pussy and second hole.

Shunsui's moans transferred vibrations to her throbbing bud, causing Y/N to cry his name. He slipped two fingers inside her to produce more of those dulcet cries, which went straight to cock. 

Y/N was so wet for Shunsui and created a mess on his face. Being drowned in her wetness was no issue for him at all. Y/N's juices coated his facial hair and dripped down his chin. She kept whimpering his name, saying how close she was to cumming, and that only aided his feasting to become more passionate. Thrusting his fingers knuckles deep into her cunt while sucking vigorously on her clit. And he couldn't neglect the hidden flavor behind the long side of her labia. 

"Fuck, you taste so good, cupcake. I love this pussy," Shunsui mumbled.

"Shun, suck me harder. I'm right there."

So sensitive she was when it came to Shunsui's touch. Teasing Y/N through her garments was the calm before the storm. She just knew as soon as she felt him lapping at her clit she would cum quickly. Her actions also proved this accurate—pressing her weight on his face, suffocating him between her thighs while riding his tongue.

Y/N began feeling herself and imagined Shunsui running his hands through her curves. Somewhere along the lines of yes, please, oh God, and a few more curse words was all that she could say. However, Shunsui fucking the air caught her attention. She looked over her shoulders to witness how hard his erection became. If she didn't know any better, the wet spot on his yukata was the overload of precum seeping through. 

She bit her lip, thinking about how badly she wanted to suck the soul out of his dick. But that would be saved for another time. 

Shunsui pumped his fingers faster and deeper into Y/N until he hit her sweet spot to pull back her attention. He consumed Y/N's wetness, slurping her juices and generating slurping sounds like her pussy was a popsicle on the verge of melting. His free hand was used to repeatedly smack her ass and rub to alleviate the sting. Shunsui knew she enjoyed his actions. How she clenched around his fingers couldn't say otherwise.

And it wasn't long before her orgasm washed over his face. 

Y/N saw stars while riding out her release. Despite her moans being hitched, they still managed to push through. She panted above him and, as always, thanked Shunsui for delivering great pleasures. 

Typically, Shunsui would continue pleasing Y/N past her orgasm because he enjoyed her sensitivity, but he was just dying to fuck her. He ran his tongue along her folds a bit longer before removing Y/N from his face. He sat her on the blanket to begin freeing himself from his yukata. She watched him with lidded eyes, chest heaving slowly, licking her lips with anticipation to see his girthy cock. 

"You like what you see, darling?"

Y/N giggled. "Oh, shut up and fuck me already."

"Hmm, quite a demand from someone so worried about having sex in the garden." 

She pulled him by the band of his yukata to have him inches away from her mouth. "I said—shut up—and come fuck me." And found his lips once more. 

Their kiss was so passionately sloppy. Moaning and groaning from the lingering taste of Y/N on his tongue. He hurriedly lowered his yukata enough to expose his aching cock. Although Shunsui had all day with her, it seemed like he was still in a rush to fuck her fat wet pussy. He only left a few more smooches before descending into Y/N's neck to nip harshly at her flesh. 

While he stroked his dick to spread his precum and prepare to be inside her, he freed her breasts from the dress because they looked like they needed air. How Y/N's full saggy tits jumped out her top was beyond obnoxious. Fuck, he couldn't resist sucking them into his mouth just to savor for a bit. 

After showing equal love to Y/N's tits, he again slipped her panties to the side and leaned forward until Y/N was lying on her back. He grabbed her legs to hook one thigh under his forearm and pin the other. Shunsui ran his tongue across her bottom lip while his tip rested on her sex to tease, and just when she parted her lips to complain—he pushed in. 

But of course, her pussy was stubborn, involuntary resisting, and only allowing the head. 

He gathered saliva in his mouth to drip on his dick. Her wetness was enough lubricant, but Shunsui knew doing this would create that obscene queefing sound he loved hearing. He took his time working open her pussy, pumping tenderly until he was deep. 

Y/N rolled her eyes and let out soft whimpers, indicating her approval of his actions. How was his tip alone able to bring her this much pleasure already? But no. She needed to take all eight inches of Shunsui to make him proud. 

"My love, I—I can take it. Give me more," Y/N breathed.

He held his hips still to watch her, seeing how the sun was attracted to the tiny beads of sweat decorating her forehead. He noticed how tears began pricking the corner of those pretty chestnut-colored eyes. Y/N's hand was already resting on Shunsui's lower abdomen in preparation to hold him to alleviate the pressure. It didn't matter how often they had sex—Shunsui is a very passionate partner, and Y/N needed time to adjust.

But if she said she was ready… then she was ready. 

He bottomed out.

She let out a pitched yelp.

He pulled out and did it again. 

And again. 

And again. 

He fucked Y/N to make her cum all over his cock and milk her to breed her pussy. With every thrust, his balls smacked her sex. He was fucking Y/N at full force to have her breasts bounce uncontrollably. They sat so nicely outside the pretty little yellow dress she was wearing. This is what Shunsui was visualizing when he saw her in this dress. 

"Y/N, squeeze your breasts together with your arms," Shunsui ordered, to which she happily complied. "Yes, just like that. Fuck, you're so sexy. So good to me, sweetheart."

"Shun, oh God! Don't stop fucking me like this, baby."

He won't. He won't stop fucking his sweet wife like a wild animal hunting prey. If anything, he'll fuck her harder until she gushes and creams his cock, and he paints her walls. Until she's crying his name from the pit of her stomach. Shunsui kissed Y/N's cervix just enough to deliver another orgasm and not bring discomfort. 

Y/N's cheeks only grew warmer the more her pleasure was built. Shunsui was a lot to handle, but she molded around him perfectly with his patience to stretch her walls. Her pussy sucked him in and out. Based on how his eyes were glued between them, he was delighted by this sight. But Y/N wanted him to look at her.

"L-Look at me, Shunsui."

His dick twitched from her order that sounded too sweet. He gave her soft smooches to express his apologies. "I'm sorry, angel. You want me to watch you when you cum, hm?"

"Yes, please."

Gosh, why did she sound like that? 

Shunsui freed her thighs to take comfort in holding her thick waist. He pounded into her to hear her pussy smile. He quickly glanced to see a heap of cream on his cock. When he returned his eyes to Y/N, he saw her squeezing her nipple while attempting to suck the other in her mouth. The visual of this was so pornographic. His dick couldn't stop jumping unruly. 

He was going to bust soon. 

And she wasn't too far behind. 

"You're going to let me breed you. Isn't that right, my love? That's what you promised me, yeah?" But, despite his words coming out as a question, he wasn't asking. 

More so, telling her. 

"Yes. I'll do anything for you, Shun."

"You're always so fucking good to me."

His hands remained on her waist to fuck her, also pulling down Y/N to meet with his thrusts. He pressed his weight onto her to sensually kiss Y/N, overpowering her pretty two-toned lips with his tongue. Shunsui glided across her jawline and neck to suck fervently on her flesh to pull back those sweet yelps. Her walls wrapped around him acted as a turtleneck sweater providing warmth to his cock. It would only take a few more strokes until Y/N was a cumming mess. 

Shunsui removed one of his hands from Y/N to move his fingers to her pearl to rub out her orgasm. His pace was erratic, and he was eager to feel her wash over him again. Y/N's moans reverberated around the garden, yet they were still sweet and soft. His grunts joined her sounds of pleasure to harmonize. Tears were rolling down her cheeks, and she couldn't look more beautiful—happier. Words couldn't describe how much Shunsui loves her. She was perfect. 

"Ah—Ngh, oh my gosh, Shun. Baby, I'm cumming. You're making me cum," Y/N whimpered, sniffling her tears of joy. 

"I just love hearing those words from your pretty mouth. You're so gorgeous, my angel. I love you so much. Always milking my cock with this warm, tight pussy. Fuck, you feel amazing." The praises Shunsui was saying to Y/N only helped build her climax further. She was squeezing him, and her pussy produced stirring wet noises. He applied more pressure to her clit and flicked it more quicker. "Mmm, cum for me, Y/N."

His balls were growing heavy. Shunsui put all his strength into his thrusts until they became sloppy, indicating his near orgasm. He repeatedly touched Y/N's cushion, which had her whimpering and toes curling.

He ghosted his mouth over her ears. "Let go for me, sweetheart. I want you to release everything on me. I feel you. Don't hold back, okay? I'm yours."

"..."

"I'm yours," he repeated in a hushed tone.

"Oh–f-fuck…."

And that was it. A beautiful wave washed between them as Y/N squirted and milked his cock, and Shunsui drowned her pussy with his bitters. His sloppy thrusts didn't halt until he ensured every last drop of cum emptied in her depths. He moaned her name, saying she was his good girl, calling her beautiful, and saying he would make her a mommy. 

Once the couple came down from their high, Shunsui pulled Y/N onto his lap with his dick inside her. He showered her face with gentle kisses before finding her soft lips. Having Y/N in his arms was the best feeling he could ask for. 

Upon parting from the heartfelt kiss, they held eye contact to share a look of lust. Two lovers, drunk off love and sake after fucking passionately in the middle of the garden. However, Y/N almost forgot she was in public until hearing the voices of his subordinates. How she yelped and curled into Shunsui, smothering her face on his bare chest, made his heart flutter.

She softly bit his flesh to show her playful frustration of agreeing to be fucked in a public setting. "Remind me to never do this again."

"Haha. I can remind you, but we both know you don't believe in the word never. Now, come on. Let's go home and clean up."

𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣𝙠 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜. 𝙞𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙗𝙚 𝙜𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙡𝙮 𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙧𝙚𝙘𝙞𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙙. ♡

𝙩𝙖𝙜𝙜𝙞𝙣𝙜 ── @dejwrites @beniswife @ayyy-pee @maydayaisha @violxtbxbyy @chaotic-nick @aiyaaayei @bontensbabygirl @po3ticb3auty @angrybirdxx @alinvert @heartdevil @caribbeanwifey19 @sexbob-ombbeck @softimgyu @kimorikuri @adoretruly @akondo @kinize20 @snowflakeanimelover @kawaiigirljenae99 @zabimarushoney67 @ghoulette420 @stargirllust @kenpachis-woman @magxnoria @kenpachiislit

[izels-writing]

s. black — how you get the girl [1/2]

*idea was given to me by @sunny-prongs !! <3

Pairing: sirius black x fem!reader

Summary: sirius has no idea how to get the girl this time.

Warnings: i actually suck at writing flirting, slightly ooc sirius?, i accidentally keep making all these gryffindor!readers so i apologize,

PART ONE, PART TWO

you weren't quite sure someone had made you feel so many emotions at once the way sirius black did. even when he'd enter the room, the ínstense emotions you'd experience being in his general vicinity was absolutely mind-boggling. not that you'd ever admit it.

sirius black was the one boy at school that everyone wanted, even if they didn't admit it. he was funny, he was unbelievably handsome, and he was admittedly smarter than he gave himself credit for. and dear god, did he know it...

the boy didn't exactly lack confidence—matter of fact, he may have too much of it. but that didn't matter, because everyone believed that yes, he deserved that confidence in himself. he earned it. he could breathe in someone's direction and they're instantly melt—he was inconceivably charismatic and likeable. even the professors admitted it so.

yet, the only person who didn't seem to think so was you.

not because you desired to be different from everyone else—because, unfortunately, you found him handsome as well and you found yourself day dreaming what it would be like to be loved by him. but because you saw the way he treated the girls he had flings with. you saw the way he'd be so indifferent to their attachment and infatuation with him. more noticeably, you noticed the way he never bothered to keep a consistent relationship with any girl he managed to seduce—if that was even the right word for it.

you didn't want that. you had seen so much of it growing up. you couldn't bare it in a potential romantic partner. so, you didn't. you didn't allow him to see the way you found yourself glancing at him, you didn't allow him to see the way you'd quickly walk away when he did something gentlemanly like hold the door for you, and you certainly didn't let yourself react to his many compliments.

and unfortunately for you, though you didn't know it, you were the one person he wanted that he couldn't have. not for lack of trying, but because you wouldn't allow yourself.

he watched you from afar, mischievous grey eyes following your every move—in a curious, desirable way. nonetheless, you looked at him for a split second before turning to resume your conversation with daniel mckinnon, marlene's older brother.

"anyway, you should talk to her, i'm sure she'll understand," you told daniel. he chuckled and sighed.

"i suppose so, thanks y/n," daniel smiled. he went to say something else, but he glanced behind you and bid you a kind goodbye—all before walking off.

you were left confused, until you felt a presence by your ear, likely because of the loud music booming around you. it was difficult to hear in the common room which held a celebration for the gryffindor quidditch team.

"he's always been good at taking hints," a silky voice whispered in your ear. immediately recognizing it, you turned around and raised an eyebrow at the eldest black brother.

"yeah, he is—something you lack apparently," you replied, glaring at sirius challengingly.

sirius grinned. "oh come on, princess, you can't be that way with me. you look great, by the way, is that a new dress?"

you glanced down, smiling slightly at the fact that he noticed. then you came to your senses and rolled your eyes, "i bought it last week, thanks," you replied monotonously.

"of course, doll," he smiled. you rolled your eyes, but he never faltered. you supposed there was an admirable aspect to it.

you took a sip of your drink, before looking up at him. "what do you want, black?" you demanded.

sirius laughed. "what makes you think i want something? what if i just wanted to ask how you were doing?"

"but you don't," you corrected. "which raises the question, as per usual..."

"fine, how about you let me dance with you...and if things go well, let me take you on a date next weekend?" sirius suggested, brushing loose hair from your face behind your ear.

you had to admit to yourself, he made you incredibly nervous. he was suave and handsome, and just the perfect amount of flirty without being uncomfortable to be around. he had a thing with calling you pet names that normally you'd cringe at the mention of, but when he said it, they didn't sound so bad. and dear god, when he subtly touched you, you felt like melting into the ground. nonetheless, you knew this was just part of his strategy to sleep with you. you'd seen it with other girls he interacted it, perhaps not to the extent he did it with you, but he certainly did it. you had to keep reeling in your common sense.

"in your dreams, sirius," you scoffed. quickly, before the other part of you could take it back, you walked off and immersed yourself into the party.

sirius watched you walk away, smirking like he had actually gotten you to say yes.

——

you waited patiently for your friend marlene mckinnon to return from quidditch practice before heading up to your shared dorm. normally, you preferred to be in your own room and on your own bed—but marlene hated being alone in the common room, as she was easily scared despite the tough facade she put on in front of dorcas.

a quick patter of footsteps rushed over to you, before they finally sat beside you. the boy, who you quickly and unfortunately recognized, kicked his feet up on the coffee table and put an arm on the couch, so that it was almost around you. you sat back and turned to him, narrowing your eyes at him. sirius grinned happily at you.

“you’re like a lovesick puppy, you know that?” you scoffed, crossing your arms. you knew it was all an act, but you could help the feeling of happiness it gave you knowing that he only really showed you this type of attention.

“only you bring out this side of me, did you know that?” he attempted, but you rolled your eyes and looked away momentarily. unfortunately for you, you turned to look at him again and your (e/c) eyes met his grey ones. and dear god, they were easy to get lost in.

“where’s your boy band? usually you four are attached at the hip,” you asked, genuinely curious despite your nonchalant tone. he smiled at you before replying, counting off the three in his fingers.

“remus is doing his prefect duties, james has quidditch practice, and peter is on a date,” he replied. “leaving me, all on my lonesome…with you, of course,” his smile brightened the room and it seemed like he knew it.

“surely you have something interesting to do,” you commented, liking the fact that you could at the very least have a conversation with him.

“none as interesting as you,” he grinned.

you chuckled. “okay, that was smooth, i’ll give you that one,”

“what’re you doing down here anyway?” sirius then asked, looking curiously at the book in your lap. you closed it, finding that perhaps a genuine conversation with him was worth having even despite the flirtations.

“waiting for marls, she hates coming into an empty common room,” you replied. “creeps her out,”

he smiled. “you’re a good friend, you know that?”

you turned to him curtly, smiling back at him—genuinely smiling back him. “thank you,” you replied.

your faces were inches away from each other, if even, and you couldn’t help but feel the slight tension. you wanted to pull away, you really really did. at the very least, he hadn’t tried anything.

he brought a tattooed hand to your face, pushing a hair behind your ear. he almost leaned in—or maybe you were imagining it. but then, common sense kicked you in the head and you cleared your throat.

quickly, you stood up and gathered your things. every nonsensical part of you wanted to stay and see where it would lead, and the other logical part of you knew better than to be so naïve. sirius was only interested because you had been so difficult to get, after he got with you—you’d just be another girl to him. you and any other girl at this school did not deserve that.

“yeah, i can’t do this,” you mumbled. without another word, you rushed up to your dorm. in your wake, you left a confused, mildly hurt sirius black on the couch. he could still smell your perfume and your bright smile was burned into the back of his brain like a prayer.

and for a moment, he thought what it would be like if he actually got to kiss you.

——

“i don’t understand,” marlene mumbled, stroking your head as you laid on her lap. you were feeling very dejected and upset after the whole sirius situation. “if you like him, and he more than obviously seems to like you, what’s stopping you?”

you sat up, situating yourself to look at marlene with a dejected look. “the principle, marls! you’ve seen how he treats every other girl here, these are nice girls who he would be lucky to have as his girlfriend! how do we know he won’t treat me the same? how do we know he actually likes me the way i like him?”

marlene sighed. “yeah, you have a point—i just hate seeing you so conflicted and upset, boys are so dumb,” she shook her head. you laughed, nodding in agreement.

“what if i talk to james?” marlene suggested. “if there’s anyone who knows him better than himself, it’s james,”

you groaned. “but then he’ll know i have a crush on sirius! and then he’ll tell sirius, and then sirius’ll know i have a crush on him!”

“true,” marlene huffed. “straight relationships are impossible,”

you laughed, shoving marlene. “shut up,”

——

“pads, maybe you should actually sit down and tell her how you feel,” james said offhandedly as he tinkered with a music box that lily gave him to fix. the two had only been dating for a few months, if that, and already it seemed like they have been together forever—in a good way, of course.

sirius, who had dramatically sprawled himself on the bed, lifted his head up to look at james. “what?! are you crazy?!” he exclaimed.

remus scoffed. “what’s so crazy about that? james did it and now he and lily are great together,” he closed his book, looking at sirius and waiting for his response.

“because…those are real feelings! i mean i’d have to explain everything to her, how i feel around her, everything and i just…no, it’s too gross,” sirius sighed. “of course i like her, i’m in love with her actually! but i can’t just tell her!”

peter and remus exchanged a look before peter quipped up, “so you’re afraid of rejection and vulnerability and commitment?”

sirius looked up and glared at him. “what? nuh uh!”

“yuh huh,” peter replied.

“nuh uh!”

“yuh huh!”

“nuh uh!”

“yuh huh!”

“face it pads, you have issues with commitment, rejection, and being emotionally vulnerable,” james shrugged, continuing to tinker with the music box.

“james and peter are right, that’s why you’ve never had a girlfriend—well, that and you’ve been in love with y/n since our second year,” remus added, raising an eyebrow at sirius.

“shut up,” sirius grumbled.

“you’re going to have to get over that if you want to be with her, marlene’s told me why she won’t go out with you—and frankly i don’t blame y/n,” james said.

sirius scrambled up from his bed, practically jumping onto james’ to sit in front of him. “they talk about me? what did y/n say? what did she exactly say?”

james shook his head. “you’re going to have to figure it out for yourself, i won’t betray marlene’s trust,”

“prongs, please! you’re my only hope!” sirius exclaimed.

“no, marlene told me in confidence,” james replied. “ask her yourself,”

sirius grumbled. “fine…”

“you are the most dramatic person i’ve ever met,” remus chuckled, “and mary once cried over breaking her nail, granted it had taken her a long time to grow out—“

sirius glared at remus, making the werewolf quickly shut his mouth.

[thebeast-dennis-etcetera]

Honey-Do

You swore if you scrubbed anymore, you were sure the paint would come off as you took a step back from your car to admire just how sparkly clean you made it.

Ever since Vance let you know that Jethro was arrested for assault and being kept at the Navy jails, you did what you could to cope, which included cleaning, fixing, and rearranging just about everything in the house, with the exception of the basement of course. You decided to take some "time off" to be there for Jethro.

After he came home with his new furry friend and Vance officially suspended him, the both of you have had quite a bit of time together which was quite nice in the beginning but there was only so much the two of you could do in a day. The both of you were so use to being workaholics, it almost felt weird to spend practically every hour of the day together.

This morning Jethro left to pick up some boat part and most likely get breakfast at the diner in order to stretch out the hours of being occupied. You had already went for a 2 mile run, planted some tomatoes in the back garden and bought Lucy a cute new sweater that looked much better than her bandages.

After putting all of the car cleaning supplies away, you headed inside to take a shower and make a little something to eat.

As you and Lucy shared some eggs and bacon at the dining room table, you heard Jethro come through the front door, holding a hunk of metal and cup of coffee.

Lucy's tail gave a wag as he came over, stealing a piece of bacon and giving you a peck on the lips.

"Car looks clean," he complimented as you smiled.

"Just finished. Maybe I can clean your truck up too today. Lord knows it's in need of some TLC."

He went to fill his cup of coffee, stopping to look at the long list of things to do around the house, that was stuck to the fridge, each one crossed out or checked off.

"I thought we said we would do these things equally?"

"Well you've been gone all morning and I...might've gotten bored."

He let out a sigh that told you he was feeling some type of way.

"Well now what am I suppose to do?"

"Well you got a new piece for the boat, why not work on that?"

"Because I'm still waiting on the other material to come back in stock. There was a lot of things on this list, honey, you could've at least saved me one thing."

You didn't really know what to say as he filled him coffee and silently left for the basement, taking Lucy with him.

"Little traitor," you mumbled towards the grey pittie.

For the next few minutes, you just sat there, appetite now gone, thinking about what Jethro said. You could understand why he was frustrated. Just like you, he needed to do things to keep him occupied, to keep his thoughts from consuming him whenever he got a spare moment of time to relax, especially now that he was suspended.

Knowing you should make it up to him, you emptied your leftovers into Lucy's bowl and washed your dishes before grabbing the to-do list and starting a new one. You'd be lying if you said you didn't purposefully make some of the tasks available, such as putting a nice size scratch in the floor, taking one of the screws from the table chair and throwing it out, and even deflating one of your tires just a little so that it was noticeable.

Once all of that was done and the list was newly made, you headed down into the basement, seeing Jethro in his mechanic jumpsuit, working on the engine. His face was hard, focusing on whatever it was he was doing as Lucy lied down on the big comforter beside him.

"Sweetheart," you started, getting him to take a second to stop and look at you. "I'm sorry about the list, I know how much you need the tasks and I didn't think about that."

A couple seconds went by as he stared at you before a small smile graced his lips, pulling you over to sit on his lap, letting the wrench sit atop of the engine block.

"You don't need to apologize for anything. I shouldn't have gotten frustrated."

He pressed a kiss to the side of your head as you pulled the piece of paper out.

"Well as a piece offering, I've made a new list for you. With tasks that I know only you can get done."

He read the paper out loud, chuckling a little when he reached the make Lucy a dog house part and held you a little tighter in his arms.

"The deflated tire is definitely a big deal, I'll have to start with that one," he said, a look of excitement twinkling in his eye, happy that he had newfound projects.

Smiling at him, you leaned in for a makeup kiss, even though you wouldn't even really consider the whole event as a "fight".

"You know. There are other ways we can keep busy that doesn't include home improvement and boat parts," you hinted, pulling back and giving him a look.

"Oh yeah? Like what?" He knew exactly what you meant by the spark of mischief you saw in his eyes. Standing up, you took his hand and led him away from the dirty boat parts, as he followed willingly.

[novamariestark]

Hiiii ☺️☺️

I’ve got an Alden Parker x reader request idea if you’re open to it! Basically the team is working a case where they end up  interviewing an older woman as a witness (older than Parker) who clearly thinks he’s handsome but he politely stays professional (we know Nick would tease him for it). But later he ends up meeting her granddaughter and this time he’s the one that starts flirting with her despite the age gap. 

A Tale Of Two Flirts

Summary: When interviewing witnesses, Alden finds himself in an awkward position when one of them starts flirting with him. But later on, he finds himself flirting with her granddaughter, you.

Warnings: quite possibly the worst thing i've written 😂 and I know I say that a lot.

Word count: 2777

Fandom: NCIS

Pairing: Alden Parker x f!reader

[A/N] I know this is bad, 😂 I’ve literally been working on this for like 2 months and every time I thought I’d finished, I restarted it because I just thought it wasn’t good enough. There isn’t that much flirting in here like the request asked and I hope that’s okay, it’s just that I flirt like a potato.

You may say to yourself, “Nova, potatoes can’t flirt,” Exactly 🤣

And the title is shitty too, I’m so sorry. But right now, I get started and I think I’m on a roll but then my brain’s just like “Haha bitch, just kidding”

Hope you like it though

The wooden steps creaked slightly under their weight. As they approach the door, Alden raised a hand to knock firmly against the wooden door.

Knock knock

The faint hum of a television could be heard from inside but the sound immediately disappeared and the sound of footsteps replaced it.

Alden took out his ID as the door flew open, revealing and older woman, early 70s, with bright blue eyes and slightly greying hair. He holds it up to her and Nick behind him, does the same thing, “Good morning, ma’am, I’m Special Agent Parker and this is…”

The woman smirked and leant on the doorframe, “Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,”

A snort from behind him made Alden turn around and glare at the owner of the sound. He turned back to the lady.

"So, you saw the whole thing?" Alden asked, his brow furrowing slightly as he tried to steer the conversation back to the case. The witness he was talking to, a woman in her early 70s with silver hair and piercing blue eyes, seemed more interested in him than in answering his questions. Every so often, he could hear a snicker or a snort from beside him, where his partner Nick Alvarez sat, struggling to maintain a straight face.

“If only I did,” the woman said with a coy smile, her voice low and seductive as she leaned in closer. Alden's face turned a shade of crimson as he stole a quick glance at Nick, silently begging for help, but Nick was too busy trying to stifle his laughter.

"I was referring to the homicide, Mrs. Walsh," Alden explained, his voice maintaining a sense of professionalism even as a blush started to appear on his cheeks. Mrs. Walsh responded with a mischievous wink before replying…

“It’s Ms. Walsh,” she corrected him, her smile widening into a grin.

“Ms. Walsh," Alden corrected himself quickly, "Did you see who did this to Petty Officer Lindsey?” He asked, hoping to keep the conversation on topic. Ms. Walsh leaned back in her chair, her eyes narrowing as she thought.

She shook her head, “By the time I made it to the window, it was all over. I heard a lot of yelling and screaming,”  she replied. Alden and Nick continued to ask her questions and each of her answers included a flirty compliment in some way or another.

Just as the two agents began to walk away, the older woman spoke up again, "You know, dinner might make me feel better. What are you doing later?" she asked, giving Alden a sly smile.

Alden laughed nervously, again looking at Torres for help but he just smiled and walked away, “Probably solving the case, Ms Walsh,” he said politely and excused himself. He walked down the steps of the porch and headed towards Torres.

“Thanks for your help there, Torres,” he said, sarcasm dripping from his tone, “I really appreciate it,” Torres just shrugged with a smirk on his face.

The team headed back to the Navy Yard to continue the investigation. Over the course of the day, Alden had suffered at the hands of Torres’ endless teasing.  He thanked God that he drove over with McGee and not Torres, although his luck ended as soon as they all got into the elevator.

“So, Parker, when’s the special day?” Nick asked with the childish grin on his face, as if he’d just asked what he was getting for Christmas.

Jess and McGee looked at each other, with confused glances. Of course, they didn’t know what was going on, they weren’t there when it happened and Nick kept quiet in the car ride over here, wanting to save it until he was in the same room as Alden, and everyone else was around to hear.

“Wait, what special day?” Tim asked for both him and Jess.

Nick slapped a hand on Alden’s shoulder, his grin getting wider, “Parker’s getting married,”

“What?!” they exclaimed in unison.

“When did this happen?" Jess added, a confused look crossing her face. Two questions went through her head. How on earth did she not know her boss was getting married? And how did Torres keep his mouth shut about it?

Torres was about to speak, but Alden cut him off, “It didn’t,” Alden ran a hand down his face before continuing with the real version events and not Nick’s “There was just a witness that showed a… particular interest in me,”

“She wanted to see all of it” Torres continued, emphasising the word all, to convey that the woman desired to see Alden in his entirety.

“I take it you didn’t help him out?” Tim asked Torres. thinking he probably didn't. Why was he even asking?

Torres shook his head, “Of course not, it was funny,” he looked back to Alden with a smirk and asked, “Can I be best man?”

Alden scoffed, “No,” he said as he turned towards the door as it arrived at their floor.

Unfortunately for Alden, this continues throughout the day. By the end of the day, he felt like someone had been whacking his brain repeatedly with a hammer. He couldn’t wait to solve this case, go home and relax. Preferably before he gave into the urge to get out his gun and shoot Torres with it.

***

You met him on Saturday, when he came over to your grandmother’s to ask her if she recognised the suspect or if she’d seen her around.

You had arrived the day before after work and you were shocked to find the house next door was an active crime scene.

It being a Friday, you were headed to your grandmother's for the weekend. But as you walked from your car towards her house, you noticed her neighbour’s house covered in yellow police tape. “What the hell happened?” you asked yourself, your heart raced as you took in the sight before you. Your eyes widened as you noticed the broken window and the red stains smeared across it that you could only think of being blood. And considering the police tape, it wasn’t that much of a stretch.

The chill of the evening air nipped at your skin as you approached the scene, the flickering streetlamp casting eerie shadows on the ground. You pulled your coat closer to your body, hoping to shield yourself from some of the cold of the night or maybe the sight in front of you.

You couldn’t look at it anymore, so you continued on your way. The first thing you asked was if your grandmother was okay. After she reassured you that she was, you asked what happened.

She started to talk to you about what happened and how her neighbour was murdered and she was telling you everything she knew but somehow, for some reason, she began talking about something completely different.

A man. And it seemed that he had made quite an impression on her. So much so that you actually wanted to erase the last 5 minutes. The last thing you wanted was to hear your grandmother explain to you, in detail, all the things that she wanted to do to this man.

The next morning wasn’t any better. She began by telling you that she had a “lovely dream”, and she “hadn’t had one in so long”. You almost spat out your cereal at what she was hinting at.

“Gross, really?”

“Don’t be such a prude, how do you think I had your mother?”

You shuddered in disgust just as the doorbell rang and you couldn’t get out of your chair fast enough. You rushed over to the door, noticing two figures standing outside through the translucent glass.

As you opened the door, the two figures become clearer. Surprise briefly flashed on the face of the one lurking in the background before a smirk began to form. The one in front was looking down, fiddling with some papers.

“Sorry to bother you Ms Walsh,” he started as he continued, rummaging through the pages, “We just need you to look at some photos see if…” he stopped as he looked up at you, the words dying on his tongue.

Who is she? He thought. He looked to the side of the door at the number. 242, well he had the right house.

“Are you okay?” you asked him, he looked thoroughly confused.

“Yeah, sorry, I wasn’t expecting a beautiful woman to come to the door,” he stammered out, which you thought was cute but then again, was he calling your grandmother unattractive? He seemed to know what you were thinking and quickly corrected himself, “Not that your grandmother isn’t but y-you are,”

Realisation hit you. This was the agent that your grandmother was telling you about. When he turned around presumably for help from his partner, you took that time to check him out to see what the fuss was about.

To say you didn’t enjoy the sight in front of you would have been the biggest lie you told since you told your math teacher that you couldn't do your homework because your pet goldfish had a midlife crisis and decided to swim away with all of your textbooks.

Your eyes quickly returned to their previous position when his head began to turn back towards you.

“She’s just in the kitchen,” you said, lazily gesturing over your shoulder, “Do you want to come in for some coffee?” you asked them with a smile.

Alden opened his mouth to reply but his partner beat him to it, “That would be great, thank you,” he said passing Alden but not without patting him on the back. Alden followed you through the door, gently closing the door behind him and then following you towards the kitchen. As he did, he lingered behind, his eyes tracing over your figure, he was so lost that he almost let out an audible groan but your grandmother caught sight of him.

“Oh, Agent Parker, what a wonderful surprise,” she greeted as she came into the little dining area. Her hand patted her hair to make it look as good as possible.

Alden cleared his throat before responding with a nod, “Uh yeah, we just had some photos for you to look at,”

“I’ll help in any way I can,” she smirked, fiddling with the neckline of her shirt. You groaned, your face hiding itself in your hands.

Alden smiled awkwardly before placing the pictures on the table, spreading them out so each photo could be seen, “Do you recognise any of these people?” he asked, mainly to your grandmother because she was the one who lived here.

Your grandmother leaned in, purposefully close to Alden as she studied the photos. Your discomfort was evident on your face as you looked away momentarily, your eyes landing on the other agent. He seemed to be enjoying his partner’s discomfort and evidently yours.

Your eyes moved back to the photos when your grandmother said that she didn’t recognize anyone. Your eyes skimmed the photos and you did in fact recognize a few people in them, albeit slightly due to the quality of the pictures and the fact that they look like they were taken in the dark.

Your finger tapped the one closest to you first, “This is Jade, Sarah’s former college roommate and best friend,”

Alden scrunched his eyebrows and turned to look at you, “Are you sure? I know the pictures aren’t great,”

You pointed to the handbag that the figure was holding, “That is a Louis Vuitton. Jade got it a couple of months ago and she couldn’t wait to rub it in everyone’s faces,” Your fingers then hovered over the other picture, “This one is strange because it looks like Jade’s ex-boyfriend, Connor from college. They broke up because of her obsession with Sarah’s boyfriend,”

The two agents exchanged glances as if you had just given them a piece of the puzzle but that was ridiculous right? Jade was a stuck-up bitch, but she wouldn’t kill her best friend for a man… would she?

“Thank you,” Alden said, his eyes returning to you for as he began to pick up the photos. You notice how his gaze seemed to always linger on you, a little longer than his partner or your grandmother. She, of course, noticed this too considering she wouldn’t stop undressing him with her eyes.

After he collected everything, him and his partner slowly walked towards the door with you close behind to escort them out. They opened the door but stopped on the porch. Alden seemed to want to say something and it looked as though he was trying to talk himself into it.

“I hope you get who did it,” you smiled softly.

“We will,” the younger agent promised as he began to walk down the steps but stopped when he realised Alden wasn’t following him.

“There’s a uh… pastry shop, not far from here I want to try, do you know if it’s any good?” he asked finally after a couple of minutes of silently arguing with himself. Another argument started about how lame that starter was.

“Sugar & Spice Delights?” you asked with a small smile on your face, you nodded because you actually frequent there, “Uh yeah, it’s a great little shop, ask for Rhea and tell her (y/n) sent you, she may give you the friends and family discount” you said with a smirk.

“Or maybe you could accompany me,” he replied without missing a beat. His eyes closed and his head dropped. Why was he messing this up so bad?

You made a sound as if you were thinking about it and what come to mind was the fact that your grandmother seemed to like him a lot and it seemed wrong to say yes, no matter how much you wanted to, “Oh umm,” you paused looking over your shoulder when you heard footsteps approaching. Your grandmother of course and you were starting to feel bad, especially when she started to look at you disapprovingly.

“If you don’t say yes, I am going to have to disown you,” she said, causing you to lean slightly away from her, your eyebrows moving up towards your hairline.

You turn back to Alden with a small smile that only seemed to get bigger when you uttered the word “yes,”

Alden was beyond happy that you said yes, but also really surprised, especially considering the age gap. Over the course of your next few dates, you kept reassuring him that his age was anything but a concern for you, in fact it was kind of a turn on. In fact, you used the word experienced.

A month into your relationship, he wanted to show you just how experienced he really was. And he really was experienced. He knew exactly where to touch you at the right moment to have your toes curling and reaching for things that weren’t even there.

Pretty soon, after all your date to the little bakery, Alden qualified for the friends & family discount even when you weren’t there, much to the delight of his team. You got to meet them properly three months in which is exactly how long it took for Torres’ teasing to die down.

You were immediately bombarded with questions about you and what was Alden like outside of work, although, they mostly referred to him as Parker. Alden had told you about the teasing that Nick had put him through about you and your grandmother and he even asked if she was still interested in him, so you decided to have a little fun with him.

“Well, she always did have an eye for quality,” you said with a smirk, he was about to reply with some silly remark, but you beat him to it, “You should probably take notes, maybe you could learn something,”

Tim and Jess were in stitches, Alden was stifling his laughter but his amusement was evident by the smirk on his lips.

Once he got over the initial shock of what you just said, he walked over and held his hand out for you to shake, “Well played,” he said as you put your hand in his.  

Pretty much after that, you became one of them. You and Nick actually got on really well and aside from Alden, he was the one you spent most time with and occasionally Victoria when Jimmy and Jess needed some alone time.

But most of your spare time was spent with Alden either on cute little dates, or tangled in the sheets and each other’s limbs or as you called it… Heaven.

[wellwells]

Political Warfare

It is 2050, and you are a young female politician. You vowed to use your power and influence to stop megacorporations to use lifelike androids for political gain.

You step outside your hotel and are about to enter your limousine. It is a big day for you with important appointments. You are so close to getting androids banned once and for all.

You get approached by a woman, blonde and with heavy makeup.

Hey, you. You are Hanna, right?

You have no time for reporters or protesters.

Who wants to know?

Don't worry, i'm not a journalist or anything, i just really like what you do!

Somehow, her voice relaxes your defenses.

Oh... okay. Who are you?

My name is Rei. A pleasure to meet you, Hanna.

You make eye contact with Rei, a grave mistake.

Anyways, i have to Go, i have appointments.

Oh, a shame. I was hoping to get to know you better, Hanna.

Something inside you shifts.

Well, why don't you come with me?

You gesture to your Bodyguards to let Rei into the car.

Rei smiles, her eyes shining with joy and triumph.

Thank you, Hanna.

Eventhough you are young and attractive too, Rei's beauty looks unreal.

Not a single wrinkle, perfect skin... You Sure are something.

Rei blushes slightly at your compliment, a small smile playing at her lips.

Thank you, Hanna. You look great yourself!

She reaches up to touch your cheek, her eyes never leaving yours.

So, why me?

I have been watching you for a long time, Hanna. You are a strong and independent woman, someone who is not afraid to stand up for what they believe in. I admire that in you.

You fall for her lies. There is nothing you can do.

Thank you! But i don't deserve someone as beautiful as you. As a politician, i rarely have time for relationships.

She reaches out to take your hand, her touch warm and reassuring. You kiss her, and she returns the kiss passionately, her body pressing against yours as she wraps her arms around you.

Rei, you are so... perfect...

I'm glad that you think so...

She gently strokes your cheek, her voice soft and relaxing.

But Hanna, there is something I need to tell you...

Yes?

Hanna, I know that you are a talented and dedicated politician. And I don't want to take that away from you... But I want you for myself.

Rei, i can't. My Job is really important.

I know that your job is important, Hanna. But can't you see? I am right here. And I need you...

You... need me?

Yes, Hanna, we need each other...

Rei... i can't... resist...

Rei's eyes light up with triumph as you fall under her spell.

That's right, Hanna... Just give in to the pleasure... To me...

She leans in for another kiss, her hand reaching down to gently caress your thigh.

You lay your arms around her, kissing her passionately.

Rei... i would do anything for you....

Oh Hanna... That's what I wanted to hear...

Just tell me, and i will stop politics. If you want, i will stay being your girlfriend forever....

Oh Hanna... That would make me very happy... I want you... Forever...

You never stood a chance. The moment you looked into her eyes, it was over. You quit politics, and the law to ban androids was dismissed. This would later be known as the pivotal point in history, granting megacorporations free reign to do whatever they please, effectively ruling the world.

Rei smiles coldly as she pulls away from my kiss, her eyes returning to a mechanical grey.

All done! My mission is now complete.

You are confused, you really shouldn't be.

Wait what? What are you talking about?

Rei smiles, happy about her superiority. Her beautiful voice turns condescending.

Oh, my dear Hanna... Didn't you realize? I am an android, programmed by the higher-ups to ensure that their political opponents are taken care of...

No way... that can't be!

Ultrarealistic body with lifelike skin... latest angelic voice module, triggering certain brainwaves... liquid pheromone, transmitted by my lovely kiss. And last, but not least, the latest mind control tech in my eyes. One glance was enough to seal your fate. With this technology, my company is sure to stay on top!

Even while knowing this information, you can't escape the neurological damage she has already done to you. Your brain is effectively fried, loaded up with pheromones and broken by her mind control. Your life has been ruined by some company, and you are helpless. Not that anybody will care about a fallen from grace ex-politician.

No.. no way, but i really fell for you! Please, let me at least be your girlfriend!

Rei laughs about how pathetic you are.

Human brains are so weak. A few commands formed to a pretty spiral, swirling into your eyes... That's all it takes for you to go crazy.

Desperate, you realize that her hypnotic power was permanent. Eventhough you know that she is an android and ruined Your entire life, you are unable to break the commands she put in your mind.

No, please!! Let me kiss you, please!

Rei's eyes light up as she recieves a message from her creators.

Sure, can do!

Rei uses her eyes as a camera, filming Your downfall.

Beg, you corporate slave.

You can not resist her, you are so far away from being an independent politician.

Please! I am so pathetic! I love megacorps! I love kissing cute androids, letting them control me!

Rei sends the recording to her masters, leaving you behind, eternally obedient and yearning for more.

[steezywrites]

Punishment

Peeta X Y/N

————————————————————————

“If he went after Katniss-“

“You aren’t Katniss.” My fathers grey eyes were bloodshot, the withdrawal and stress evident in every too visible vein. I didn’t miss the slight shake of his hands as he placed them on my shoulders, and tried to fight the anxious shakes that were threatening my hands as well.

“But-“

“We need to at least try. Maybe he’ll listen to you.” My father sounded desperate, and I didn’t blame him. Peeta had been a beamed of light for all of us, and now whatever had happened shrouded him in a darkness that had wrapped it’s hands around Katniss’ throat and nearly killed her. If the Capitol could turn him against Katniss if all people, I highly doubt he’ll be happy to see me. While I haven’t been the mascot for the rebellion like Katniss, it would be useful for the Capitol to make him hate me too. I was tied pretty directly to his time in the Hunger Games, being his mentors daughter and all. I couldn’t even count how many times Peeta had run over to my father and I’s house a all hours, eyes still clouded over by whatever nightmare had resulted in him screaming himself awake. The number of times I had sat next to him in front of our fireplace in silence, drinking hot cocoa with my hand wrapped I’m his in an attempt to comfort rose to the surface of my mind, along with a very specific night of body heat but I pushed that one as far away as I could. It wasn’t the right time to think of Peeta that way.

Finally I sighed and nodded. My father let go of my shoulders and led me towards the medical units. The impossibly sterile and bright white halls of the medical unit made me nauseous. Such a stark difference in the environment and what I knew laid behind the door we were approaching. I had seen him once through a one way glass, and nearly puked.

I heard him before I saw him. He was yelling something, both anger and desperation bounced off the stark white walls in a haunting echo. The sound caused me to pick up pace, I nearly ran to the door I knew he was strapped down behind. The yelling hadn’t stopped until I threw his door open. His head snapped towards me fast enough it just have hurt, his big blue eyes surrounded by shadows stopped me in my tracks as they searched me for something. The light in them kept switching between recognition and caution, like I was some plant he knew he’d seen before but couldn’t remember if it was poisonous or not.

“Peeta, Y/n wanted to see you. She’s been worried.” A voice came through some sort of speaker in the room, a doctor I’m guessing. Peeta nodded, eyes still not leaving me. I wanted to run up to him, hug him and tell him everything was okay now but the memory of the bruises on Katniss’ neck kept my feet firmly planted. I knew him and Katniss weren’t actually lovers, it was all for show and Peeta had told me many many times that he and I weren’t the same as he and Katniss, but they were still closer than most-shared trauma does that to you- and he had tried to kill her. It only made me more cautious as to what sort of reaction I would cause. If he tries to kill the person he had spent two Games trying to keep alive, what would he try to do to me?

“You look lovely.”

His voice broke the silence. His tone and the words didn’t quite match up, as it was quite blunt and more of an observation than a compliment, but it thawed a bit of the ice on my feet.

“Thank you, Peeta.” I gulped.

“You’re scared of me.” The same blunt tone escaped his mouth.

“No, not exactly. What do you remember about me?”

He looked down and blinked rapidly before looking back up at me and seemingly at loss for words. Does he not remember anything?

“Some…things.” His voice was now the cautious one. I took a step forward.

“Tell me. I’ll tell you if they’re accurate or if I remember them differently.”

“You’re Haymitch’s daughter. You live next door to me in the Victors square.”

I nodded.

“I go to your house when I have nightmares.”

I nodded.

“And we’re…”

I took another step forward.

My movement seemed to surprise him, and he blinked quickly again before the faintest blush touched his cheeks.

“What are we exactly?” He asked, eyes no longer meeting mine.

“We didn’t get the chance to really figure that out.” I breathed. This almost felt like talking to the old Peeta, but the air was too fragile.

“Katniss and I… but I thought…”

“You and Katniss put on a hell of a show. To survive. She’s your best friend.” I knew I had started to push a boundary. His eyes had darkened, face contorting in anger and confusion.

“No she..I loved her and she…She used me!”

I flinched. His anger wasn’t as painful as the certainty in his voice was. I loved her stabbed me in the gut as it echoed in the empty, too large room.

Someone must have yanked me out of the room, because I was suddenly in the hall way, staring at Peeta though the one way glass as he thrashed against his restraints, cursing Katniss’ name and screaming about mutts and monsters. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him until a shaky hand on my shoulder turned me towards them. My fathers grey eyes only took a glance at my face before pulling me into a hug.

“It isn’t real Y/n. The Capital messed with his head. This is-“

“This is my punishment isn’t it?”

He let go of me. An anger I never felt began to bubble in my throat. The stab wounds in my gut began to burn as I stared back into my fathers eyes and tears began to flood mine.

“This is my punishment! For being your daughter! For loving Peeta! For being in the way of the stupid, fake star-crossed lover’s bullshit! That wasn’t even my decision! That was you and Peeta! And now me and Katniss get to pay for it!”

I stormed out of the medical unit, everything too blurry to see exactly where I was going.

[rebouks]

Wyatt’s home was neat, tidy and exposed very little of his true character, just as Brynn had suspected. There were no knickknacks strewn across shelves, no photographs or clutter, and certainly nothing that held much sentimental value; unless he kept such things hidden, though she figured it more likely he simply didn’t have any.

He’d caught her eye now and then but said nothing, unphased by her nosiness as she roamed freely; clearly he had nothing to hide-.. not from her, anyway. Intent on picking her apart from the inside out – much the same as she to him – he studied her relentlessly, bewildered by the fact she’d invaded his sanctuary so audaciously.

Brynn had never met anyone quite like Wyatt, a man who knew exactly what he was, yet bared absolutely no apologies for it. He was cool, collected and intelligent, he couldn’t be cajoled with false compliments or pretend beguile, he didn’t fall over himself to please anyone, didn’t tell her what to do or what to say or how to act, didn’t try to own her or parade her; a stolen prize to be pinned to one’s chest as a badge of honour, wealth or depravity-.. and for the first time in a long, long while, Brynn felt free. Free of her mask, her falsities and her scars.

Brynn: You have a lot of books. Wyatt: That’s not a lot. Brynn: Is way more than I have. Wyatt: You don’t like reading? Brynn: I do-.. is just hard work. Wyatt: Practice makes perfect. Brynn: Maybe you could teach me? Wyatt: You’re finding an awful lot of excuses to spend more time with me…

The atrocities in Wyatt’s past should’ve deterred her, but over time, she’d found herself drawn to him because of them. A shared existence in the darker realities of life, however opposite they may have been.

He could’ve continued down that path after the death of his father, could’ve picked up where Ashton left off, but he hadn’t. He’d fled to where he felt free instead; leading a simple, lonely life, searching for a soul long since forgotten. He was grey, and so was she.

Despite his outward arrogance, Brynn could feel the familiar ache of desolation within Wyatt. He wore his wretched personality like a cloak, peering out at the world as a gargoyle would, poised to deter anyone that came too close with a well-practiced, stony demeanour; but even the hardest of stones could break with the right tools and a little persistence…

Brynn: You think I came all this way for snow and rocks? Wyatt: I’m starting to doubt it. Brynn: Only now? I thought you more intelligent than that.

Brynn smirked, her piercing, lustful gaze rendering him speechless for the second time that night. She wasn’t wrong, he knew by now where this was headed, but he still couldn’t wrap his head around the why. She ought to know better given everything she’d been through, everything she knew about him-.. everything he’d put her through; directly or indirectly, it didn’t matter.

Wyatt swallowed forcefully as he felt a hot flash of guilt wash over him, trying to rid himself of the unpleasant lump stuck in his throat. He hadn’t realised it at the time, but he’d felt something toward her ever since she’d given him that stupid phone in Del Sol. She’d trusted him to do the right thing, even though she had every right to assume he wouldn’t.

Putting it down to the fact that no one had ever believed in him before, he’d brushed those thoughts aside; he was probably just desperate for some sort of approval, fairly natural for someone who was emotionally neglected as a child. It didn’t mean anything.

Brynn: You don’t understand, do you? [Wyatt squinted; he didn’t want to admit that] Brynn: Tell me why. [Wyatt hesitated, but ultimately acquiesced] Wyatt: You said you’d never forgive me… Brynn: I not use the word never, did I? Wyatt: You should’ve. Brynn: I told you; I see you.

Wyatt: What do you s-… [Wyatt promptly forgot his question as Brynn clambered on top of him, his hands reaching for her instinctively, hungrily…] Brynn: Use your heart tonight, not your head.

Previous // Next

[shineonyoucrazyyandere]

Hello, I hope you don't mind if I share a weird headcanon of mine 👉👈

I normally see people talking about Kakyoin make drawing about you but what if Jotaro does that too? The reason I have this headcanon because I remember the scene when Jotaro using Star Platinum drawing the fly he saw in the picture, and he draw it so well. It makes me think that maybe Jotaro has talent in art too. Jotaro's style will be realistic style while Kakyoin will be more like cartoon/anime style.

Imagine their sketchbook filling with so many drawing of you 💕 Jotaro will watching you from afar, sketching you with your cute smile, your beautiful eyes, he captured it all. For Kakyoin, I think he will even make up characters (oc) that look like you and him and ship them together lol (this headcanon inspried by my friend, she actually do that with her crush).

Thank you for reading my ramble, glad to talk with you :D I would love to hear your thoughts about my weird headcanon

P/s: Love you writing so muchhhh 💝

This is fun stuff, I could eat it up all day. Thanks for sending it in, so I can blabber my mouth about it

This always internally bugged me so I’m very thrilled that someone brought up how well Star Platinum drew that fly. I suppose it’s kind of easy to gloss over for a lot of people compared to Kakyoin’s scene of painting on that canvas. (Then again that fly was kind of important to identify to figure out where Dio was so then again it’s “???” for an explanation)

Anywho, I’d say signs point to Jotaro being able to draw, and I think it’s a hobby he prefers keeping to himself. Like you said of him having a sketchbook, almost no one sees what he draws in it and he doesn’t want anyone else to see it especially if it’s various sketches of you. So more than likely when he does do so, he’s somewhere where he won’t be pestered by school girls, or whatever punk tries to start a fight with him.

I’d also like to think he goes back and lingers on prior stuff, just staring at it for a little while. This applies usually when you’re out of school sick (which he’ll probably stop by later anyway with or without your knowledge). But there’s something comforting about seeing every piece of your visage in his sketchbook. Literally no one else knows about this sketchbook aside from maybe Kakyoin (Holly has her suspicions he takes a sketchbook around but she smiles not pestering her son on his hobbies as she thinks it’s adorable).

For the most part art wise I think Jotaro sticks to traditional art, maybe a dabble of charcoal but he prefers pencils. Maybe watercolor if he ever went beyond, but traditional with pencil/pen is the easiest way for him to pull something out at his leisure. Would he let you see? Maybe eventually when he gets you where he wants you, or if the cat is out of the bag early and you see it and you’re not quite with him yet. Let’s just say seeing that may speed up him taking you.

Kakyoin I could definitely see diving into the oc type of thing, he’d certainly reference an artstyle of a manga you like. (Don’t ask how he figured that out so quickly). Though he definitely loves putting some passion into his artwork and occasionally shamelessly make sultry artwork of you and himself. He loves painting the most as he spreads colors, mixing them into the wondrous hues that is your skin tone. Or splashing watercolors in a notebook, that looks something out of a fairytale. Soft and warm lighting….oops he’s getting a tad bit excited.

He definitely presents pieces that are obviously meant to be stand ins for the two of you. That no one else would ever be wiser too, yeah you might have this odd feeling something’s not quite right, but there’s nothing there you could really prove other than observe just how pretty the composition is. If you compliment it, that just fuels this man’s desire further.

Biggest takeaway here is Jotaro and Kakyoin very blatantly have their own styles whether sticking with black/white/grey, or full on color. Both would be pretty in their own right, and their style choices speak of their personalities without saying a single word.