#i’ll always be preaching about this

[girlishwhimsies]

oh food insecure johnny cade….

[nanamiscocksleeve]

Telling The LADS Men to Ditch The Condom

Them reacting to you saying you want them to fuck you raw. Warnings : MDNI, sex, oral, handjob, and general smut These banners are mine, please do not reuse them.

Zayne, as a doctor, preached safe sex. He appreciates the responsibility and nothing is more attractive to him than a woman who is aware of her birth control options and doesn’t mind communicating openly with him about these decisions. After all, having sex was such an intimate act for him that he wouldn’t even think about it until you’d been dating for at least a month. He likes the exclusivity and the closeness of sex, and that includes being held accountable for the choices both of you made in the bedroom. So when you tell him to lose the condom, he blinks, making sure he hasn’t misheard you.

“You…want to do it without a condom?”

His head is between your thighs, kissing and nibbling the soft flesh as he edges his way towards the moist and sensitive folds, and he raises up on his elbows to ensure his ears aren’t being obstructed by your legs.

You nod slowly, blushing as his dark eyes fixated on yours, the flecks of amber in them lightening at the idea. His pupils dilate at your affirmation, and he hoists himself up a little higher, resting on your belly, gently stroking your flanks. “You’re sure about this? There’s no pressure you know.”

“I know. But I feel like we’ve been together long enough to allow ourselves to go one step further. And I’m on the pill. We can monitor the situation later if you want to but honestly Zayne, I think any step I take with you isn’t going to be something I regret.” You say the words candidly, reaching down to stroke his black, silky, locks of hair, heart skipping a beat as he plays with the squish of your belly, nuzzling his face into the softness. “I want to feel you. All of you.”

His eyes flutter closed for a second, the ebony eyelashes resting like fans on his cheekbones before he sighs, the little puff of air sending a shiver across your middle. He crawls up towards your face, capturing your mouth in a tender kiss, tongue sliding across the slit of your lips before entering inside. You cup his face and deepen the kiss, heat gathering in your body. Zayne pulls away only to come to your ear, hot breath tickling you as he speaks.

“I don’t think I’ll regret this either.” He licks the shell of your ear, making you twitch. “But remember, if you change your mind, I’ll stop. No questions asked.”

His words are so sincere and spoken with love, adding fuel to the fire. Zayne, patient and considerate, is looking at you with those sharp eyes as if you’re his last meal on earth. He kisses his way down, pausing briefly to shower some attention over your perked nipples, giving them soft licks and kisses that make you mewl and whine with need. Once he’s back at his original spot between your legs, your arousal has increased a hundredfold, your sex soft and swollen, leaking fluid as he parts your folds.

His tongue darts out, tasting you, licking slow lines from cunt to clit, before slurping the swollen pearl into his mouth, suctioning it with his lips. His middle finger flirts with your entrance, teasing it until it starts sucking in his fingertip, drawing a moan from you as he strokes it along your upper wall.

Zayne knew his anatomy and he never wasted a second in touching you exactly in the spot that made you feel like you were turning into a pile of goo. Never in a hurry, always taking his time, coaxing orgasms from you like a hobby, the breath tearing from your throat, your core spasming from the pleasurable waves that radiate throughout your body. Zayne nudges you through the final vestiges of your orgasm before stroking himself, readying his hardened cock.

He’s done this before but what gets to him as he aligns his tip with your hot entrance is how heightened the sensation is, the absence of latex allowing him to profoundly feel every muscle contract and fully experience how wet and welcoming your body truly was. He grits his teeth, his balls throbbing, desire surging through his veins, almost snapping his self-control.

He inches in slowly, splitting you apart, marveling at how you stretch to fit him, the little noises that leave your throat music to his ears. Once fully sheathed, he looks at you, hair tousled and splayed across the pillow, a flush across your face. He thrusts with care, drawing a moan of longing from you and softly rolls his hips, adjusting himself at an angle he knew you liked.

Every movement brushed his mushroomhead against your gspot, soft sighs filling the air, his lips descending onto yours, his thumb working your clit, gradually bringing up your pleasure to another peak.

“You feel so good darling,” he pants, his thrusts becoming steadily faster, his willpower fading away to primal need. “Taking me so well,” he whispers, capturing your lips in another passionate kiss.

Your body is reeling from the stimulation and with Zayne’s gentle ministrations on your clit you cum with a cry, his hips stuttering as he feels the orgasmic spasms of your core around his cock. He tries to hold on, but it’s too much, his head growing sensitive as your second orgasm sucks him in deeper into your warmth, his balls tightening up and the coil in his belly compressed to a limit until it snaps, and with a grunt, he spills himself into your body.

Afterwards, he holds you tenderly, gently easing out, and cleaning up your messy slit with a warm washcloth, playing with your hair until the both of you fall asleep.

This is a man who’s been taught condoms are the best way to avoid complications. It’s a golden rule that he will not have unprotected sex for both health reasons and to avoid making the person he’s with uncomfortable. You don’t have condoms? He’s running to the pharmacy to get some. He takes these things seriously and understands that it’s simply gentlemanly to be the one to buy condoms. Xavier wants to feel like he can be relied on in situations like this and that you should never feel awkward asking him to make a condom run or any kind of run.

He’s reaching for the box to roll one onto himself when you hold his wrist. Curiously, he looks at you, a sight to behold, a heavenly sight laying on his bed, lips plump and swollen from his kisses, body glistening with sweat from your recent orgasm.

“Ditch the condom Xav,” you murmur, tracing his arm with your fingers, causing goosebumps to bloom on his skin, his usually slow heartbeat picking up a few paces.

“Are you sure angel?” He lays down gathering you in his arms, his erection tickling your belly as he breathes in the perfume of your hair.

“Positive.” You stroke his cheek reassuringly, feeling like you could drown in the depths of his blue eyes, unable to control the little giggle that leaves your throat as he blushes at your confirmation.

“Xavier.” You grasp his chin, forcing him to look at you. “I’ve never been more sure. I know I can trust you, rely on you. And right now, I can’t think of anything I want more than to feel you inside me, no barriers.”

He’s shy, his smile so awkward and his face so pink. This was new to him, and the fact that you’re asking so sweetly is pulling at his heartstrings. After hesitating for another moment he places the condom back on the nightstand.

“All right angel. Since you're sure. But tell me if you feel uncomfortable at all ok?” Xavier rubs his thumbs over your cheekbones in circles, a sweet and tender gesture, carefully laying over you, his chest coming into contact with yours as he tips your face up for a kiss, his hands slipping under you and clasping your shoulder blades to bring your body as close to his as he could.

While his tongue explored your mouth, he raises slightly on his knees and effortlessly finds your moist entrance with his tip savoring each tiny inch that envelopes his cock with aching warmth. He's unable to control the sigh that escapes his lips, lost in your mouth as he feels the wet muscles contract around him, pulling him in. The feeling is inexplicable, the intimacy of skin on skin making him feel heady and light, heart racing in his chest.

His brilliant blue eyes begin to darken at the edges, turning into a darker shade of midnight as he bottoms out, little noises of contentment resounding in your throat as you feel the hot velvet column of his cock fill you, feel the way it pulses as he occupies your pussy.

“Xav… You feel amazing,” you gasp as you pull away from his mouth, his hips coming to lay flush against yours as he thrusts into you, stroking your inner walls and teasing all the right spots inside you. He's hot and flushed, watching your face as it contorts in pleasure, his blush settling across his cheeks and nose like adorable pink freckles. You smile hazily as him and his head dips down to suckle as nipple, his tongue caressing the little bud, turning your moans into sighs of longing.

When his thumb starts to circle your clit you almost cry out from the pleasure of it all, every sensitive spot being hit at the same time with aching perfection. His breath mingles with yours, sweat forming on both your bodies as you rock against each other, creating delicious friction, matching the other rhythm for rhythm, strike against long stroke.

The edges of your vision blur as your climax grows nearer and Xavier’s jaw grows tight, a moan escaping his lips as he tries to hang on, determined not to climaxes before you. His thumb picks up its pace and with a shaky gasp, your orgasm hits, the sweetness of it making you sob as it grips you, feeling your core spasm, and with a final push of triumph, he allows himself to succumb to his own desires, cock twitching and spasming along with your pussy as he cums, coating your walls with his seed.

Tired, he collapses on top of you as gracefully as he can, your hands and soothingly rubbing over his back, kissing his hair, murmuring praise to him as he floats down from his high.

“Angel…you're so wonderful. The best.” his head is on your chest, listening to your heartbeat as he tries to grasp into reality. You can't help but laugh lightly. Xavier always gets pussy drunk and now without the condom it appeared to accelerate to an entirely fucked out state.

His eyes gleam like sapphires as his breathing returns to normal. “Well how am I supposed to be the guy making the condom run now after knowing what it feels like without one?”

You roll your eyes affectionately at him and flick his forehead.

Rafayel isn't unfamiliar with sex and intimate relationships but he doesn't often engage in them. He's quite shy and doesn't tell you what he's thinking. With patience and a little experimentation, Rafayel slowly came out of his shell and learned to feel comfortable enough with you to express his desires and wants. However, he's nervous about how you'll react to him admitting he's been wondering how it would be without a condom so he clams up.

His cheeks are flushed and his eyes are half lidded, whining as he rests between your legs, his back against your chest as you pump his erection with aching perfection.

“Feeling good baby?” You coo at him as he writhes under yourself ministrations at your mercy.

“Yeah… So close… Don't stop… “ he pants, hips desperately thrusting up to meet your strokes, feeling his thigh muscles quiver and his abs growing tighter with each passing second.

“Talk to me Raffy… how good am I making you feel?”

“So good…” His eyes, a lovely shade of lavender gray are starting to turn into smoke as his impending climax builds and rises. His cheeks are flushed and there's sweat on his forehead and chest from the exertion, the gentle crescendo of pleasure building to a steady peak.

He gazes up at you in a haze, those adorably plump lips parted as he gasps for air.

“You're so pretty when you pout you know?” you ask teasingly and as predicted his brow furrows, displeased at your amusement.

“Don't… say things like… that!” the color in his cheeks rises and your own control slips slightly as you lean down to give an admonishing nibble on his lower lip. The extra stimulation is enough to push him over the edge and with a groan he pulses, his cock warm and needy in your palm, spilling his cum into your hand.

Your clean hand plays with his pretty hair as you continue to pump him with care ensuring he rides out every drop of his orgasm, a few more more spurts of viscous fluid leaking from his tip before stopping.

Rafayel relaxes on your lap as you reach over to grab a tissue and wipe off your hand. His eyes linger on your messy hand, sticky with his arousal and he feels his cock twitch despite having just cum.

“I wonder what it would look like slipping out of your pussy instead of your hand,” he says in a quiet pondering voice that has you pausing, a wicked grin forming on your face.

“Raffy… Did you just say you wanted to fuck me without a condom?” You emphasize the word ‘fuck’ on purpose because of how flustered he gets when he hears it and sure enough, he pouts, a noise of embarrassment escaping his lips, rolling onto his side to hide his face.

You quickly discard the used tissue and lay down to face him, pulling his struggling hands away from his face which looks like a setting sun now, adorably flushed, eyes bright and averted.

“Raffy tell me what you want.” You reassuringly pull closer to him, nuzzling his warm neck.

His cheek rests on the top of your head and with a sigh he admits with a hint of bashfulness, “I fantasize about it sometimes. But we don't have to,” he adds quickly.

Your laughter is muffled by his neck as you lean back to look at him. “I think we've been together long enough to discuss doing it raw.” You look at him imploringly.

“Cmon baby. We can ditch the condom today. I kinda want to know what it feels like too.”

His smokey lavender roam over your face, still carrying hints of hesitation in them. “You're sure? You're not just doing this because I want to right?”

“Oh Raffy. There's never been a day where you've made me feel forced to do anything. I'm very sure.” You cup his face between both your hands and gaze at him lovingly.

He laughs awkwardly, smiling shyly and you feel his erection press against your thigh as the both of you draw in for a kiss, Rafayel pulls your knee over his hip, stroking your moist folds with his cock. You whine in pleasure as he holds his cockhead up to your clit and you slide along his length, both of you sighing passionately at the intimate touch. His engorged tip cups the base of your clit so perfectly and you feel your core clench in anticipation.

Rafayel drags his length between your folds one more time before sliding down to your needy hole, groaning as your wet heat circles his tip. You push down on him, feeling the heat of his member, enjoying the way he fills you so wonderfully, his head sitting snug against your gspot.

The thrusts were shallow in this position but it allows you to snuggle into his chest, look deeply into his eyes and kiss him at leisure, each stroke hitting that sweet spot inside you with aching precision. He toys with your clit , pinching and rolling it for your pleasure.

He's amazed at how good you feel, how tight you are around his length, how wet you really are. The condom almost dulled this sensation and it feels like he's woken from a dream and experiencing reality for the first time.

Your orgasm hits sharply, making you cry out and cling to him the combined fondling of your clit and gspot too much for handle. As it starts to settle down you moan in his ear.

“Baby… Give it to me. I want to know what your cum slipping out of my pussy feels like too. Please… Cum for me… Like how I came for you…”

Your voice is whiny and pleading and Rafayel's hips stutter as he reaches his peak, letting out noises of his pleasure into your ear as he cums, and you feel his hot seed fill your eager pussy. As the both of you catch your breath, kissing each other in the afterglow, everything feels right.

Rafayel's erection softens and as it happens you feel the unmistakable feeling of your combined cum sliding out of your pussy, pooling at the crevice of your thigh.

“That's so hot,” you murmur and from Rafayel's expression he's thinking the same thing. He gathers a little bit of your mixed fluids on his finger, fascinatedly tasting it, his eyes intoxicated at the flavor.

“See what happens when you tell me what you want?” you strokes his arm. He nods then gets close to your ear.

“I don't think I want to use a condom ever again.”

Sylus is that guy who loves going in raw but only if he's sure you're into him. And despite the talk of him being the ruthless leader of Onychinus, he's a true gentleman and would never bring the topic of having unprotected sex unless you initiate it. He prides himself on being someone you look to for security amidst the chaos in the N109 zone.

His fingers are knuckle deep into your pussy, wet squelching noises filling the air as his long fingers expertly tease that bundle of nerves inside you while his thumb rubs circles on your clit drawing out a moan of longing from you, your walls clenching around his thick fingers.

“That's it good girl… Give it to me,” his deep voice rumbles in approval as you writhe desperately on his fingers feeling your body tense in anticipation at what was to come.

His lips hover over your collarbone nibbling leisurely and you roll your hips, moaning as your climax washes over you, pussy spasming from the gratification.

He licks his fingers clean, savoring the tang of your arousal before pulling you in for a deep kiss, pulling you snugly against his chest, and pressing kisses to your hair. You taste the musky flavor of your orgasm, transferred from his tongue to yours.

Your hands are already busy with his cock, tickling his thighs and cupping his balls drawing a chuckle from him.

“Easy kitten. We have all night.” His tongue slips between your lips again and gives you a sloppy kiss, a noise of delight leaving you as you stroke the hot velvet of his cock.

“Sylus?” you stroke him in a steady rhythm that has him humming, the noise sounding like a cat purring, his abs contracting in response to your touch.

“Yes doll?” he licks and nibbles down the side of your neck making you shiver. His crimson eyes fixate on you as you hesitate to speak.

“What is it? You know I'll do anything for you right?” He grasps your chin firmly and makes eye contact, feeling flattered when you blush, your nipples perked from your recent orgasm, skin covered in a sheen of sweat, looking divine.

“I was thinking…”

“Yes?”

“Um… How would you feel if… we didn't… Useprotection?” the last few words are said in a rush, and your cheeks grow hot as you make your request. It's not normal for you to feel so shy, after all Sylus was incredibly open to experimentation and exploring kinks with you. But there was something so personal about asking this of him, letting a part of him sit within you so intimately and the vulnerability made you feel exposed.

Sylus rises a contemplative eyebrow, his lips curling into an indulgent smile as he sees how flustered you're getting.

“The kitten has gotten bold,” he says approvingly. “You wish to have all of me? Feel my cock in all it's exposed glory inside your wet little cunt?”

The crudeness of his words sends a rush of arousal straight into your already dripping core. Heat fills your cheeks and you slap his shoulder.

“Don't say it like that!”

“isn't it the truth though?” Sylus rolls you on top of him as he lays back against the pillows, enjoying the view of your soft body. “Don't you want to feel every inch of my veiny cock fill you, rub your sensitive walls and fuck you senseless? All the while your tight little pussy keeps getting wetter for me and you can't do anything except helplessly moan and let me stuff you with my seed?”

His ruby eyes glitter sinfully as he watches you squirm under his gaze. How cute. His fingers idly stroke your sides, your hands full of his cock but momentarily frozen from his teasing.

“Don't feel like you have to stop on account of me sweetie,” he prompts, then can't stop himself from laughing as you hasten to continue with your strokes. “You fluster so easily.”

“Anyone would if spoken to that way!”

“Oh no sweetie. I doubt anyone else would have such an adorable reaction. Why can't you just admit that you want me in you, no barriers, just raw and primal like animals?”

Your nails scratch over his abs, feeling them quiver. “If you don't want to just say so.”

“Don't be that way.” His red eyes narrow, hands tightening around your waist. “You know I want to.” His large hands cup your breasts and squeeze.

“Then why do you keep laughing like it's funny?” you whine as he twists your nipples, and grind his upper thigh.

Sylus's eyes soften slightly before he leans up to kiss a nipple and pull it softly with his lips. “Mhm… Sy…” your nails scratch his scalp as you cradle his head.

He lets go and blows a puff of air over the hardened peak, causing it to perk up more before circling it with his thumb. “I adore you doll. It’s not that I find it funny. I'm very flattered that you want me that way. But if I let my desire for you consume me, you may find yourself pushed to a limit.”

He traces a finger from between your breasts down to your navel. “You may find me… being rough. More than you're used to. Because kitten…” he leans up with you balanced on his body and with a soft tickle of hot breath on your ear that has you jerking slightly in surprise, he says in a feral whisper, “the thought of burying myself in your cunt with no condom on, feeling how you clench and get turned on for me makes me want to eat you alive.”

Blood rushes to your face and Sylus watches with satisfaction. He caresses your cheek. “Ride me kitten.”

His eyes darken as you glance at him under lowered lashes. You crawl over his body on your hands and knees hovering your slick core over his hard length. He sucks in a breath as you lower your hips, teasingly brushing his tip against your wet hole, the sensation of so inviting it takes all his willpower not to slam into you mercilessly. He knew he wouldn't be able to control himself if he was on top, wouldn't be able to stop himself from taking. Putting you in control was the wise choice here.

“Fuck kitten,” he growls, his fingers digging into your hips. “You feel so good. So wet for me.”

Sylus's cock stretches you deliciously as you take him in, feeling his veins and heat pulsate achingly inside you. You whine as you fit him in, you whine each time because he's just so big, and it takes a while to adjust and take him. It never fails to make him smirk but today he's watching intently wondering how he's supposed to last with your pussy gripping him like a glove and enveloping him with your needy heat.

When you finally bottom out, both of you take a collective breath and feeling so full, feeling how he fits inside you. Resting your palms on his chest you start to move, lifting your body up feeling him stroke your inner walls and start to ride him.

You start slow, setting a pace that has him groaning, holding your hips so tightly it hurt but you continue, angling your body until you feel his engorged head brush your gspot. His teeth are gritted as he slips a finger between your legs and finds your hardened clit, stroking it to match your movements.

The texture of his cock has you moaning, his gentle movements on your clit pushing you closer to him edge. Sylus lets out a hiss of air, trying not to disturb your pace but his will is being ripped to shreds.

You were so warm. So tight and wet. And claiming you without a condom in his opinion only solidified further that you were his. Marked, claimed, and rightfully his in the most biblical sense.

Your pace picks up as you ride him, needing more friction pathetic noises leaving your throat as you chase your orgasm. Your thighs quiver and burn from the effort but you're so close that you push through the pain, gasping as Sylus firmly presses into the little bud.

“You're so cute like this, struggling on my cock. Let go for me sweetie… Make a mess all over me.”

His words are a sinful request mingling with the sounds of slapping skin and lewd noises of need. With a loud breath of desire, you cum all over him, eyes squeezing shut at the pleasurable spasms that rock your body.

It's too much for Sylus to handle, and taking advantage of your momentary lack of movements, he thrusts upwards into you, fucking you through your orgasm desperate to cum with you.

The absence of the condom aids him and with a loud bark he feels his balls tightening and his orgasm hits him like a train, holding you tightly as pleasure flows through him, his seed filling into your needy pussy.

Fuck he was addicted. He rolls you onto the bed and holds you close to him.

“You're going to be the death of me kitten.”

© nanamiscocksleeve original work | no copying, plagiarizing or translating

[zhongrin]

honey, can you.… commit a crime for me?

© zhongrin | 2024  ✼  no repost・translations・plagiarism of any kind・ai data mining. rebloggers get a free cup of tea ♡

✼ characters ┈ zhongli, childe, kaeya, diluc, al haitham, tighnari, wriothesley, neuvillette

✼ tags ┈ gn!reader, crack, fluff

✼ a/n ┈ what even are these hsdlkfjlskjdf kinda wanna create a yandere version of this /is bonked

ꜱᴘᴇᴄɪᴀʟ ᴍᴇɴᴜ (ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ) ✼ ᴏᴜʀ ꜰᴜʟʟ ᴍᴇɴᴜ (ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ)  ✼ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱʜɪᴘ (ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ)

zhongli immediately tries to find the core of the problem. “what is it that troubles you, dearest? perhaps we can find a more peaceful solution? violence is not always the answer. this, i know from all the 6000 years i’ve lived—” aaaand there he goes on his lecture. if your goal was to get him to give you a preaching of a lifetime, well, congratulations, you’ve done it. sit back and relax, brew some tea, maybe get some snacks, because you’ll be here for a while.

al haitham, surprisingly, actually humors you. only because he knows you were teasing him and this is his way of teasing you back, but you’ll probably end up staring at him in confusion because he looks dead serious while doing so. “what an interesting offer. i’ll have to ask you to submit a formal proposal through your special submission channel. make sure you have several backup plans in case of emergencies. have it on my desk by tomorrow afternoon, the latest.”

wriothesley straight up denies you with a roll of his eyes. he knows you’re joking, and honestly speaking he would stain his hands with blood for you, but as much as he loves you, he really didn’t want you to end up at the fortress while under a sentence. although theoretically he could pull some strings to make sure you spent your sentence peacefully if that scenario ever happened, the fact was that such records will follow you for the rest of your life, and he wants you to stay in the sunlight. “what did i always tell you? don’t break the law... but if you really want to, how about you try to steal my breath away with a kiss?”

neuvillette stops writing his reports immediately, eyes wide and mouth slightly open. “my dear, come sit, let us converse.” he holds your hand and proceeds to rope you into a heart-to-heart talk. are you being harassed by someone? are you being threatened? the cup of water rippled erratically as he waited for you to answer those particular questions. is there something he could do to help that wouldn’t make either of you getting dragged into a court trial? can he— …. yeah, someone save him, he totally thinks that you’re serious.

childe agrees immediately. is that even a question? “sure! who do you need me to kill?” he asks, with his signature wide boyish grin plastered onto his face and his hand twitching to reach for his hydro blade. look. it’s your ajax. your (man)childe. your tartaglia. i bet you liked his murderous tendencies anyway. are you even surprised?

kaeya makes it a point to gasp and looking like a maiden who caught the sight of two lovers rendezvousing in the garden. when he notices you not buying his act, however, he laughs and switches gear into a teasing smile, “oh? was me stealing your heart not enough?”

diluc stares at you blankly, one eyebrow raised, his voice monotonous — if you hadn’t known how to read his minuscule reactions, you would have missed the spark of mirth dancing in his eyes; a trace of the young ‘luc buried deep inside the scarred heart of a charred phoenix, “…. hmph. did kaeya put you up to this?”

tighnari hums nonchalantly and gives you a knowing smirk, his tail swishing mischievously behind him, “perfect. i do have a rare specimen i’d like to plant. i’m sure it’ll benefit well from the nutrients it’ll absorb from your victim. so, where did you put the body?”

✼ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱʜɪᴘ (ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ) ┈

@abyssmal-skies ! @hamdehlesmis ! @sunnshineflxwer ! @queen-belial ! @silentmoths

@dustofthedailylife ! @marina-and-the-memes ! @mixed-kester ! @lordbugs ! @anonymousficreader

@irethepotato ! @sassy-cat-in-town ! @syrenkitsune ! @smokipoki ! @cakeboxie

@crystalflygeo ! @ciexuvia ! @illaasya ! @celestewritestoomuch ! @pams-comfortzone

@spidermanluvr444 ! @ourstrawberryclouds ! @ryuryuryuyurboat ! @hrts4hanniehae ! @fiannee

@frosts-intuition ! @florapocalypses ! @genshin-impacts-me ! @scarasmood ! @hellcatinnc

@beloved-brynn ! @malachitemischief101 ! @average-yandere-enjoyer

[flipppyflopp]

“We know what you are…a villain.” 👑

Back in my angst era 💅✨ Couldn’t get this idea out of my head and I’ve been working on it ever since! I wanted to capture Vil’s anxiety over being caught trying to end Neige. It still gets me how he overblotted not because of Neige, but because he felt so guilty that he attempted to do something so ugly. He always preached about hard work, and how you can get anything if you try hard enough, but here he tried to take a shortcut to his own goal. He couldn’t stand for anyone to see him after committing such an ugly act. He proved that he was what he hated most: a villain.

I could go on and on about Vil’s Overblot but I’ll save that for my future Vil Overblot pieces. For now, I’m off to try and not draw something angst related 😎

[sofs16]

our leclerc win

continuation to a paddock day — next

yn

liked by charles_leclerc and 30 others

yn it’s charles day! i know im usually very unserious and goofy at times but lets be fr, charles is my other half. actually, he allows me to be me so basically he’s my whole being. ill say what everyone is thinking, i know people are like omg f1 driver! omg! BUT HE IS MUCH MORE THAN THAT! he burns pasta for a living (he’s learning atm), plays me beautiful songs on the piano im always blessed to hear, reassures me when things dont feel right, and everything in between that. i will always be behind you, charles leclerc. even if i have to find a job soon, i will be supporting you through a screen. i love you and it’s kind of stupid but i think youre the one for me. thanks for choosing me

view all 50 comments

landonorris Your love is disgustingly sweet but happy birthday mate🎉

charles_leclerc I love you so much. charles_leclerc 😘😘😘

charles_leclerc You are the one for me as wel, cherie❤️ [liked by yn] pierregasly Charles is crying on my shoulder

⤷ yn good

⤷ charles_leclerc 😂

october 16, 2023

yn

liked by charles_leclerc, and 35 others yn hot a$$ 💋

view all 37 comments

landonorris why not just say ass

⤷ yn because im manifesting money, dumbass

⤷ charles_leclerc Woah.

⤷yn dw baby, waldo lets me call him dumbass because he thought i was one of the development drivers and then got embarrassed and walked into a door

⤷ landonorris I THOGUHT WE WERENT TELLING ANYONE ABT THAT

⤷ yn 🤷🏻‍♀️ loyal gf 1st, human 2nd, lando friend 3rd.

⤷ carlossainz55 what about me, yn

⤷ yn ooooo . loyal gf 1st, human 2nd, carlos fan 3rd, lando friend 4th

⤷ landonorris EZCHSE ME

⤷ fernandoalo_oficial Hello Yn👋

⤷ yn NEVERMIND loyal gf 1st, fernando fan 2nd, human 3rd, carlos fan 4th, lando friend 5th

⤷ landonorris Wow.

⤷ yn but being human is loving lando norris so 🤷🏻‍♀️

⤷ landonorris My fav wag (unless i get a gf) 🧡

[liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, fernandoalo_oficial, yourbsf, and pierregasly]

november 16, 2023

yn

liked by charles_leclerc, and 18 others

yn WAHTTTT!!! first (and last of the season) day back at the paddock as A WAG. A WAG. ME?

view all 7 comments

charles_leclerc We’ve been dating 5 months, mon ange…

⤷ yn AND ILL NEVER GET OVER IT

landonorris Pretty!

⤷ charles_leclerc Norris. ⤷ landonorris AS A FRIEND MATE

⤷ yn YOURE SO CUTIE LANDO THANKS!!! yourbsf PROUD MOM ERA [ liked by yn ]

november 24, 2023

| kellypiquet has requested to follow you! 10m

| maxverstappen1 has requested to follow you! 2m

2 requests accepted!

yn.updates

liked by ynlover16, and 1,181 others

yn.updates After 5 months, Yn has gone public on Instagram and is now verified! view all 47 comments

ynlocer16 3RD RECENT LORD HAVE MERCY

⤷ charles.yn AHAHA CHARLES FIGHTING THE DRIVERS IN THE COMMENTS

charlferrari ALL THE CHARLES CONTENT 🥹 OUR QUEEN!!! lwymmdts THE BIRTHDAY POST LAST MONTH. november 24, 2023

yn

abu dhabi

liked by charles_leclerc, and 381,272 others

yn p1 in abu dhabi and in my heart @charles_leclerc ❤️ no longer lowkey wag 😞😞😞😞 plsxdont hate me i have humor

view all 161,181 comments

ynprix SHE SILLYYYYY LOVEU THANKS FOR GOING PUBLIC QUEEN

⤷ yn @landonorris SEE i AM silly! ⤷ landnorris SOMETIMES

charles_leclerc I love you 😘

chayn im crying i just scrolled thru all her posts and saw some charles’ comments 🥹

⤷ yn.fan unfortunately she archived a lot of them:( ⤷yn_edits @yn PUT EM UPPPP

⤷ yn sorry yall thats private 😞 maybe when both of us pass away together

chachaferrari STOP DOES THIS MEAN CHARLES LEARNED HOW TO MAKE PASTA

⤷ yn ;)

ynsart i love how active she is! she’s replying (or liking comments) to everyone, its so wholesome

[liked by yn]

yourbsf ALWAYS LOWKEY

⤷ yn preach sister

november 26, 2023

charles_leclerc

liked by yn, and 4,272,585 others

charles_leclerc i see you, amour @yn 🌦️

view all 1,172,588 comments

yn dang, i’ll be sneakier next time! [liked by charles_leclerc]

ynferrari She takes photos?!?

⤷ charles_leclerc She double majored and did photography 💞

⤷ yn_lovvv HE SOUNDS LIKE A PROUD BFFF

december 2, 2023

charles_leclerc

liked by 3,181,493 others

charles_leclerc i love them 🤍

view all 248,595 comments

ynstyle YN MET THE FAMILY?

⤷ yn shit my pants the whole flight but i love them

⤷ arthur_leclerc Yup, after you introduced yourself with a different name👍🏻

⤷ yn ARTHUR WE DONT TALK ABOUT IT LLEASE I SEESR TO GOD

⤷ charles_leclerc I quite liked the name changed

ynred i feel like she said yn leclerc. [liked by yn]

december 24, 2023

yn

liked by 172,484 others

yn BEFORE ANY OF YALL SCOLD ME. yes, i brought the pizza. but did i think he’d ask for it mid (climbing/hiking? i dont even know babes) NO!

view all 35,283 comments

leclerc_pascale oh mon dieu

⤷ yn JE SUIS DÉSOLÉ MAMAN, C’EST TOUT CHARLES! i’m sorry maman, it’s all charles!

⤷charles_leclerc j’ai un rêve. respect that, amour 😓 i have a dream. respect that, love

⤷ yn i respect that dream of eating in CERTAIN places but okay😘

yn1989 jesus how many languages does she speak

⤷ yn 7🤍

⤷yn1989 WHAT. WHICH ONES

⤷ yn german, italian, french, japanese, spanish, english, and icelandic! ⤷ yn1989 charles’ favorite number is 7 😭 you both are so cool

⤷yn IVE BEEN SAYING THIS AND HE ASKED ME OUT ON JUNE 3, 2023. 6(june)+3+2+2+3= 16. LIKE ARE U JOKING

⤷ landonorris @ charles_leclerc your girlfriend is actually crazy. She’s a crazy fan

⤷ charles_leclerc I love that about her though. All of her 💞

⤷ yn 🥲🙂 shaking. kicking my feet. biting my nails. screaming. ripping my hair out

january 14, 2024

chayn.updates

liked by yn, and 5,695 others

chayn.updates yn wearing one of charles’ polos in her recent post ;)

view all 492 comments

charleswife midddd. could literally be any polo..

⤷ charloss why are you actin like u have a chance bbg 😭 and ferrari and charles’ initials in on the bottom collar

january 18, 2024

charles_leclerc

liked by 8,707,606 others

charles_leclerc I usually do not post for birthday’s but the world needs to see my AMAZING photos of you (@ yourbsf)😘 Yn, meeting you has changed my life like no other. to the chef in our house, the singer, the one translating a lot of things for me, dressing me up, and “everything in between”, happiest birthday amour ❤️ I got my Leclerc win when I met you

view all 4,484,585 comments

yourbsf yn will lose her shitballs over this and IM THE BETTER PHOTOGRAPHER

lewishamilton Happiest birthday to the life of the grid! landonorris happy birthday smartass 🧡

⤷ yn thanks dumbass 😘

yn IM GOIN CRAYB

yn I DONT DESERVE YOU IM SHITTING MY PANTS WHSTVTHEFUCK

pierregasly Yn is born on the 16th too?!?

⤷ yn hehehehehe

daniel3.jpg I took that first photo👍🏻

leclerc_pascale ♥️je t’aime. joyeux anniversaire xx

⤷ yn merci maman! à bientôt 🥹🤍🤍🤍

[liked by leclerc_pascale, and charles_leclerc]

may 16, 2024

yn

liked by 1,282,182 others

yn life’s hectic as usual

view all 329,585 comments

landonorris what do you even do. im still so confsued

⤷ yn im a fulltime gf who sometimes goes to her job and takes pics and makes clothes 🤷🏻‍♀️

charles_leclerc yeux d’ ange

⤷yn 💌

charlie166 charles sent those flowers. bet all my money.

⤷yn mans be winning in imola and sending me flowers and sending me virtual kisses 💋

view all 117,383 comments

may 27, 2023

charles_leclerc and yn’s stories

replies:

pierregasly replied to yn’s story: Get a room

charles_leclerc replied to yn’s story: lovely photo of me baby🫤 thank you

yn replied to charles_leclerc’s story: damnnnn nice photo tnx babe. i look like a housewife

landonorris replied to yn’s story: EWWWWWW

carlossainz55 replied to yn’s story: Chill, yn. Breathe.

[hyper-fixates]

low honour!arthur morgan x virgin!reader

this is really just one long-winded fic idea that i need to speak into existence.

tags: literally save a horse ride a cowboy, afab!reader (feminine pronouns, descriptions, and names used), religious topics/imagery, obsessive!arthur, virginity kink, age gap relationship, loss of virginity, corruption kink

Reader is in her early 20s, privileged to come from a family with wealth from their heritage and inheritance in the oil industry.

The era of cowboys and outlaws has started to become a thing of the past from the shifts in climate and industry throughout the country. Reader has resided in Saint Denis her whole life, never needing to worry about gangs, outlaws, or even cowboys.

She has never even seen a cowboy before, but she’s heard stories; none of them particularly pretty. The presence of law enforcement throughout the streets and the sheer distance of Saint Denis from other towns is enough to deter most of them from causing trouble.

Functionally, she should never be compatible with a cowboy.

Her father has always preached about her waiting for a “good, proper man” that can marry her into another family with obscene wealth. And so, she protects her chastity and innocence just as she is expected to—just as her father expects her to.

Hell, she doesn’t even know how to ride a horse! Her father believes that riding horses is beneath them, so anywhere she wants to go is accommodated by a stagecoach.

Cut to: reader is accompanying her father on a trip to Annesburg to discuss potential investments in the mining industry. He hates leaving her alone. She knows he worries that she’ll get “up to no good”.

Her father has chosen one of their more comfortable, flashy stagecoaches for the longer ride, giving him more storage for his financial documents and whatnot. A perfect target for gangs.

And, inevitably, they get robbed.

The robbers’ faces are all concealed by hats and bandanas, and one of them ties her arms behind her back with careful hands before guiding her to her knees on the wet grass.

The man who tied her up stays close by her side, and she can see her father pleading for his life to another man who’s not listening.

“Are you a cowboy?” Are the first words she says to him, not a note of fear in her doll-like eyes that make her look so fuckable in this position with her on her knees next to him, dress billowing out around her form.

He looks down at her confused. “Uh, once, I suppose.” His voice is a little muffled by the black bandana hanging over his nose and mouth.

She can see that his hair is so long that it starts to curl up and out at the ends under his hat.

“Well, you got the hat. And the horse,” she reasons, wondering if she’s truly meeting a cowboy under circumstances she thought she’d never be in.

He looks to her again, left hand causally hooked in the leather of his belt as he waits for the rest of his gang to finish up. “I guess you’re right.” He tips his head to her in agreement.

“Leave them! These people are leeches. Let the wolves decide their fate.” A man with a deep, booming voice announces atop his white horse.

Now she starts to panic.

She pulls against the rope around her wrists, looking up to the man who tied her as he begins to walk toward his horse. “Wait! Mister, please! Please don’t. Please,” she yells to him.

He looks back to her, then his horse, then back to her again. “Hold on.” He signals to the man on the white horse before walking back over to her.

“Take me home. Please just take me home, mister. I won’t say nothing, I promise, but just take me home and I’ll give you anything you want,” she begs to him.

He sighs, but not out of annoyance or hesitation for her request. He sighs because he has no idea what she has just done to herself.

He places his bandana over her eyes and leads her to his horse. He unties her hands and lets her blindly climb into the saddle, legs shaking from unfamiliarity.

When she settles, she blindly grips onto the saddle horn for dear life, wishing her father let her ride at least once in her life so she wouldn’t appear so delicate in this situation. The man chuckles off to the side before mounting up behind her. She notices the saddle is not quite meant for two as he pushes in tightly against her ass, seemingly not even concerned about it.

This is probably the closest she’s ever been to a man.

“Where to, miss?” The man leans forward against her back to grab the reigns, caging her in with his arms.

She tells him in a quiet voice, and he kicks against his horse, setting them into motion.

When they arrive at her French two-story home on the outskirts of Saint Denis, the man dismounts swiftly, hand circling her wrist before saying, “Swing your right leg over and I’ll help you down.”

She slowly brings herself around, feeling the man lock his hands around her waist to guide her to the ground.

He tugs at the knot holding the bandana around her eyes, and she doesn’t let herself turn around until she feels he’s had enough time to tie it back around his face.

“Thank you, mister,” she whispers.

He tips his hat and leaves without another word.

In the following week, the man watches her after the sun sets. He watches her pray before bed and change into her silk nightgown, waiting for the night he can maybe finally see the more explicit side of her. But it never comes.

She’s perfect.

Eventually they cross paths again one day. The man purposefully chooses to ditch the bandana, too.

“I don’t think my daddy would appreciate me talking to someone like you,” she admits slyly as she continues her trek into Saint Denis.

The man follows beside her on his horse, left arm lazily hanging down by his side. “Someone like me? And who’s that?” he asks, a slight smile also on his lips.

“A cowboy. An outlaw,” she says, sneaking a glance up to him as his horse steps in time with her down the path.

“Well your daddy ain’t here.”

“No, mister.”

“Come for a ride then.”

And that’s how it’s starts for them. He introduces himself as they ride to his gangs camp, and she complains about how sore her legs are when they arrive.

“You don’t ride?” Arthur asks, intending for it to be a joke.

“That was my second time. Ever,” she laughs.

And that’s when he understands what type of lady he’s dealing with, so he goes for it.

“Maybe you should practice on me sometime,” he remarks, untacking his horse.

She wonders if she heard him right. “Uh, mister—”

“Arthur,” he corrects.

In that moment, she realizes he can teach her everything her father has kept from her, show her everything he had protected her from. Throw away the innocence and chastity and truly experience what life should be. But Arthur doesn’t know the entirety of her sheltered life. She needs someone like him.

“Arthur…I don’t think I’m what you’re looking for,” she admits. “I…I’ve never been with no one. Ever.”

“You’re untouched, aren’t you?”

“Yes, sir. Just as my daddy said I should be. Until marriage.”

And Arthur makes it his mission to make her experience her own sexuality in its completeness, so he starts off slow.

He would always touch, never breaching her or letting her do anything to him. The focus was always on her.

Her virginity and pureness made him conflicted: he wanted to ruin her in all the ways she has never been, but he wants to tease and rile her up and watch her experience all the sexual frustrations for the first time.

It was cute. The more bold he got with his touches, the more bold she got in trying to take what she wanted. He would take her behind a tree and slowly lift up the dainty material of her summer dress, gathering it in his left hand as he used his right to rub her clit through her underwear while he licked and sucked along her neck, careful not to leave marks.

She would get weak so fast, Arthur could barely handle how virgin her body truly was. She would grip onto the leather straps of the rifles hanging down his back, trying to force his hand harder and faster.

However, the first time he made her cum was an accident.

He confidently placed a gentle kiss on her lips while they were alone in his tent—he just wanted to see how she would react.

She leaned in and returned it, snaking her hands around his neck and pulling him down to her. He pulled her into his lap, laying them down on his cot as they started making out like a long-distance high-school couple.

Arthur mindlessly starts grinding against her, ignoring the clothing separating them. She doesn’t realize what she’s feeling as Arthur’s hard cock slides against her clothed pussy.

Her orgasm just kind of happens.

Arthur watches her shake and twitch under him as he pulls away to see what happened. The wet spot on her underwear is all the evidence he needs.

Ever since, she’s been insatiable. She wants Arthur to show her everything. Teach her everything. She wants to feel everything if that means she can cum like that again.

Around the campfire she’d sit on his lap, tightly circling her hips against him until he’d grow hard before stopping. Then she’d do it again.

Arthur would mostly ignore her teasing. He didn’t want her to know how much she was driving him up the wall, so he’d retaliate in a way that was ten times worse then whatever she did just to prove a point about her innocence, how she knows so little compared to him.

The first time they fuck, he makes the horse riding joke again: “I’m sure this’ll be good practice for you, sweetheart.”

She huffs a laugh, rubbing his cock through her folds as she straddles him. He’s built up her confidence so much, it’s all been leading to this.

He’d guide her up and down, back and forth, testing her body to see what she likes. Seeing what spot makes her tremble.

He finds it. “Fuck, there it is,” Arthur groans.

She can’t even think. She doesn’t know what to think. She’s doing everything her father told her not to.

Premarital sex.

Premarital sex with a cowboy.

“Oh, Lord, forgive me,” she prays, her pussy sliding so perfectly along him as he grips her hips harder.

Eventually, he’d eat her out in her childhood bedroom. Her father sleeping in the room above her own, separated by the thin wood of the floor. She arches against the bed, and her eyes meet the iron cross hung above her bed frame.

She’d often ask him to leave the hat on, and he’d laugh, pleased that she is slowly adopting sexual preferences and interests.

She was his perfect, sophisticated woman that he was free to defile and poison with his desires.

[malum-forev]

jealousy, jealousy

Summary: You're usually someone who preaches love but there's something about a new recruit that makes your blood boil.

Jealousy isn’t part of your vocabulary, it never has. So when you started dating Bucky you assumed it wouldn’t be a problem. Of course you noticed the widened eyes and hushed words people- men and women alike, Buck’s got game left and right- whenever the two of you would walk into restaurants. When you started pointing it out to him, he would always say: “It’s not cause they like my looks sweets, they’re afraid of me.”

Maybe at first that was the case but definitely not now, the public’s perception of Bucky turned positive. From terrifying Winter Soldier close all your doors to I’ll set my house on fire just to get a look at Daddy Sarge.

And there wasn’t anyone who loved teasing him about it more than you. Some nights, whenever he’s been especially annoying you would search his tag on twitter and read what people post about him. His cheeks would burst red and he would bring the comforter up to his face.

“Could you please stop with that!” He groaned but a smile tugged at his lips. “You know it gives me a weird feeling!”

“I would love to see the Eiffel Tower, they say Paris is beautiful this time of year. @BuckyBarnes @SamWilson.” You giggled as you brought your phone closer to your boyfriend.

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Do I even want to know what that means?”

“It’s-well- kind of when you-“ You pursed your lips and made a triangle shape with your hands. Maybe a visual aid would help?

Bucky grabbed both of your hands and brought them to his lips. “Can you please put me out of my misery?”

But today was very different, it had been for a few weeks now. There was something about the new brunette agent that rubbed you the wrong way. Maybe it was that she was currently rubbing Bucky’s bicep. 

Jealousy does not exist in my world. My happiness comes from within me. There is no jealousy in true love. 

You repeated this over and over in your head, raising the speed on the treadmill and focusing on the windows in front of you. You were not going to focus on the fact that there was a hot pink nail polish wearing agent openly flirting with your boyfriend. Definitely not focusing on that. 

Your heartbeat started to rush as you kept on running, seeing red. No mantra was enough, you wanted problems. You were going to go up to her and pin her down on the floor until she was patting on the mat, taking her last brea-

“You okay?” Natasha asked, placing her hand on your lower back to stabilize your body as she lowered the speed on the treadmill. “It looks like you’re trying to challenge the speed of light over here.”

You took a deep breath to calm your anger and looked at the redhead with a smile. “I’m trying to get rid of all my- you can call it extra energy.”

Natasha threw her head back with a laugh. “Bucky training the new recruits?”

“This hasn’t happened before, I’m usually very chill about everything. But there’s something about this one.” You said, forcing your eyes onto Natasha’s instead of behind you. Where they were now about to start sparring. 

Natasha’s eyes traveled from yours to behind you. “If that’s the problem then I strongly suggest you don’t look now.”

You turned your head just enough to see the young recruit asking for your boyfriends hand to stand up, putting her other hand on his shoulder as she came up. You heard her giggle as she draped her arm over his shoulder and started complimenting his new shorter haircut. But the thing that threw you over the edge was how she placed her palm against the back of his neck. 

“Excuse me.” You said to Natasha, ripping open the pocket on the left side of her tactical suit and taking out one of the small knives you knew she hid. “I just need to borrow this for a second.”

Before Natasha could even get a word out you planted both of your feet on the gym floor and sent the knife flying in between Bucky and the new agent’s face and landed on the wall behind them. Bucky leaned back a little as he felt the air rushing when the knife passed him, turning to face you with a stupid smug smile. The recruit on the other hand, fell to the floor and clutched her chest. 

Nat tried and failed to swallow her laugh.

You brushed past Bucky and the agent, who was still on the floor. “Sorry ‘bout that.”

“You should really work on your aim. Someone could have gotten hurt.” She shot you an annoyed look as you un-stabbed the wall. 

You turned on your heel and debated your answer. 

Actions speak louder than words. You thought. 

Without breaking eye contact with the woman, you sent the knife flying right to the spot next to her head. With no effort the blade stuck to the foam flooring. 

“I have perfect aim.” You smiled walking past Bucky who was biting the inside of his cheek to suppress his smile.

“Are we still on for dinner Sweets?” Bucky asked, the sides of his lips curving upwards. 

“7:30, don’t be late.” You said without turning to him. 

---------

Part 2: jealousy, turning saints into the sea

Wanna read more like this? Here’s my latest post. 💖

Author's Note: Kinda short but I hope you guys liked it! As always my requests are always open!! Be sure to comment, like and reblog if you like!!💖💖🦾

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

A Very Merry Unbirthday

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.2k

Warnings: minor angst, fluff at the end

Request by anon: I was wondering if you could do a angst fic where Spencer forgets readers birthday maybe he’s too distracted by JJ (or anyone else) then Derek is the one who reminds him, maybe Derek brings reader flowers and Spencer got jealous and confronted Derek and that’s when Derek tells him that it’s her birthday 

Summary: Your birthday is here and the one person you expected something from doesn't even remember it's here.

Square Filled: penelope garcia for @anyfandomgoesbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

Today is a very exciting day because today is your birthday! To celebrate the big day, you’re wearing your favorite jeans that hug your ass nicely, shoes that make you look taller without it being a high heel, a nice blouse that stays in work regulations, your hair is half-pinned to the top, light makeup on your face, and a smile to tie it all together. 

It sucks you won’t get to spend it with your family but you have another family waiting for you at the office. Being surrounded by the people you care about, especially your boyfriend, is something you’d never turn down. Spencer has always been known to do cute and romantic things for you so you’re so excited to see what he has planned for your birthday.

The first person you see when you walk into work is Spencer. He is at his desk on the phone and based on his face, it’s not a pleasant phone call. You’re not going to bother him when he’s working so you’ll greet him when he gets off the phone. You walk to your desk and set your things down when JJ and Emily approach you from behind.

“Happy birthday,” Em grins.

“Thank you!”

“Anything special planned?”

“You mean besides the not-so-surprise party Pen is throwing?” JJ and Emily have shocked looks on their faces. “Come on, I know even if no one told me. Don’t worry, I’ll be prepared to be surprised.”

“She does make it obvious sometimes,” Emily chuckles.

“Other than that, no. Spencer might have something planned but that I do not know about.” Spencer gets off the phone with a sigh and you depart from your friends. You walk over to him with a smile even if he doesn’t return it. “Hey.”

“Hey. Sorry, I can’t talk right now.”

He grabs a bunch of files off his desk and leaves his desk and you behind.

“Okay, I’ll catch you later,” you call after him.

Maybe he’s having a busy morning. You’ll meet up with him later once he’s had enough time to get done what he needs to. Hotch and Rossi walk into the bullpen after visiting someone on the first floor, and you smile at them.

“Hi, Hotch. Rossi.”

“Hey, happy birthday, kiddo,” Rossi smiles.

“Yeah, happy birthday.”

“Thank you. Another year older. It seems like the older I get, the faster time goes.”

“You’re preaching to the choir,” Rossi jokes.

They both have gifts for you but they will give them to you at Penelope’s surprise party. She is a dead giveaway when she is doing something for other people. Once she starts planning, she has a hard time keeping it inside. It’s endearing.

After lunch, you find Spencer in the break room. He has been working his ass off all day and is in desperate need of something to eat.

“Hey, Spencer. How was your morning?”

“Rough. Hotch has me running around doing everything under the sun.”

You wait for him to say something but when he doesn’t after five seconds, you decide to take matters into your own hands.

“Do you know what today is?”

“Monday?”

“Yes but no.”

“It’s not a holiday.”

“No, it’s not.”

“I don’t know. What?” The smile on your face falls when you realize that he may have forgotten about you. He forgot. “Are you okay?”

“No, yeah, um, I just made you some lunch. It’s in the fridge.”

“Thank you,” he smiles and kisses your cheek.

“You’re welcome,” you whisper.

You wait for him to say anything else to you but he doesn’t. Spencer never forgets anything but he forgot this? He forgot you? Spencer’s desk phone rings and he abandons the lunch you made to answer it. Maybe you’re not important to him anymore.

You avoid him like the plague for the rest of the day. He doesn’t seem to notice since he is nose-deep in his work, but he does notice Derek walk in with some flowers in hand.

“Who’s the lucky lady?” Spencer smiles.

“Yours.”

“What?” Spencer stands up and checks the card to see your name on it. “Why are you giving my girlfriend flowers?”

“You didn’t get her any?”

“No, why would I?”

“You’re in trouble, that’s all I gotta say,” Derek chuckles.

“I’m not in the mood to play games, Morgan. Why are you getting my girlfriend flowers?”

“I got them for her birthday which is today.”

“No, it’s next month.”

“No, it’s today.”

Spencer groans in realization as Derek places the flowers on your desk.

“Are you kidding me?” Now he knows why you’ve been avoiding him all day and why you were so weird during lunch. “I messed up big time. She asked me earlier what today was but I told her I didn’t know. Now I have no idea where she is. She’s been avoiding me.”

“I saw her head into Pen’s office.”

“Thank you.” Spencer rushes over to Pen’s office and knocks twice. He tries to open the door but it’s locked. “Penelope? I know Y/N is in there.”

The door unlocks and Pen only opens it slightly so he can’t barge in.

“She doesn't want to see you right now.”

“Just let me talk to her.”

“Try again later.”

“Y/N, I am so so--”

Penelope closes the door on Spencer, cutting him off. Spencer debates on knocking until you relent but he has a better idea. It’s nearing the end of the day and Hotch has granted him early leave for the day.

“I get he’s busy and gets distracted, but not one ‘happy birthday’ to me? He remembers everything but not this?”

“Honey, all men are stupid, even the smartest of them.”

“Yeah,” you sigh. “I gotta get back to work. I can’t hide out here forever.”

“Good luck!”

You finish the rest of the work day without seeing Spencer and you don’t see him on your way home. You unlock your front door and enter your apartment expecting to just go to bed and forget today ever happened. Instead, you see fake candles making a path straight to Spencer who is holding a single rose in his hands.

“What are you doing here?” you eventually ask and close your front door.

“I am so sorry for today. I was caught up in work and I didn’t realize what I was doing until Derek told me, but that’s not an excuse.”

“Do you even know what today is?”

“It’s your birthday.”

“You forgot.”

“No, I was distracted. Darling, I am so sorry.”

You sigh, take your jacket off, and hang it on the rack by the door.

“I’m not upset that you were busy. We all get busy. I’m more upset that you forgot. You have a mind that can’t forget but you forgot me. It made me feel like I’m not important enough to you.”

Spencer rushes over to you and pulls you into his arms, lifting your chin so you’re looking right at him.

“No, don’t ever think that. You’re the most important person in my life. You are the light in all this darkness. You are the reason I get up in the morning.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Hotch has been bombarding me with work lately. I got caught up in that today.”

“You’re sorry?”

“Yes.”

“Is that rose for me?”

Spencer smiles and holds the rose out for you. “Yes.”

“Do we still have time for dinner?”

“Why don’t we stay in tonight and I’ll cook for you? We can plan something for after your party I know you know about.”

“Okay, deal,” you smile.

He leans down and kisses you, relieved that he didn’t mess everything up.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[testrella]

you're my religion priest! s. geto x f!reader pt.1→pt.2

synopsis: y/n moved into a small and tight knit town to take care of her elderly grandmother. what happens when she attends a sermon with her grandmother, and finds herself lusting over someone she cannot have.

fandom: jujutsu kaisen ⌗ priest suguru geto x female reader⌗ modern au content warnings: mild cursing, smut, head (giving), religious themes(?), slight degrading at the end, angst(?) public sex, NSFW.

author's note: over 11k words, u guys have fun

“..in the name of the father, and of the son, and of the holy spirit. amen.”

father geto finishes off the sermon with the routine prayer. he takes the opportunity being on stage to scan the loyal audience. it was the regular, older people he preaches to. the same people who boast about him being so devoted to God at such a young age. how that when they were his age, they were off sinning. he thinks about the constant praises about being a young devoted follower, but it immediately stops when he sees her. 

a young lady, who seemed to be around the same age as him, sitting in the very back with an elderly woman. even though she was dressed as modestly as possible, the black floor length dress immersed your body in all the right places.

when did he allow his immoral thoughts come to mind

 “oh father! you must meet mrs. johnson’s granddaughter- maybe you can convince her to turn to God.” an elder of the church whispered to the priest. she gently pulled him to the side, off of the stage. 

“as you must have heard by now, edith’s grandbaby is out of control. rumor has it that she’s been caught using multiple different contraband, and premarital sex! can you believe edith would allow this to go on for so long?!”

geto mentally sighs, gossiping was always an issue at church. especially since it was located in a very small town, there wasn't much to talk about. when you were new to town, the locals went wild. fabricating very detail of your life, and spouting that nonsense through their teeth.

“with respect dear mary, the scripture speaks strongly against gossip. i’ll talk to the young lady, but please watch yourself. for there is no greater sin than sin.”

she nods while looking down, unable to meet geto’s gaze. too embarrassed to voice her concern furthermore, she mutters “yes father, please forgive me.”

“i am not the one you should be asking for forgiveness, ask the man above. now if you’ll excuse me, i’ll introduce myself to the newest member of our church.” he smiles gracefully before making his way towards mrs. johnson and her ‘scandalous’ granddaughter. 

he takes small steps towards you, puffing his chest out as he walks with a sense of pride. sure you were a pretty girl, but he was only interested to guide you through your religious journey. 

“father geto, i introduce you to my granddaughter. this is y/n. she’s only 20, and she recently moved into town to take care of me. isn’t she the kindest?”

he loses his train of thought. he's unable to bring himself to utter a single word. you were much more gorgeous up-close. if he were to describe your beauty, he’d be too overwhelmed, and wouldn’t know where to start. maybe he’d start with the way your nose fits your face perfectly. or, how your smile molded perfectly with your faint smile lines. 

geto snaps out of his trance, and quickly introduces himself. 

“i’m father geto. welcome to this church, i hope your stay has been great so far.” he purred. 

you squint your eyes at him. almost as if you already knew the rumors going around. nonetheless, you shake his hand. 

“like my grandma said, i’m y/n. i do hope we cross paths alone in the future.”

he blushes from the way you shaked his hand, but also put your other hand on his. solidifying the handshake more than it needed too. not only that, the last comment you made. crossing paths.. alone?

“my confessional booth is always open before my sermon, and at 9 PM on sundays. if that’s what you mean of course.” 

you puff your chest out and let out a dramatic sigh. taking in your arms, and letting them rest to your side, you open your mouth to speak. he stares at your lips, refusing to make eye contact.

“the sermon did end, i guess i’ll have to see you later tonight.” you assured him before walking over to your grandmother who made conversation with someone else. he watched you walk away, allowing himself to sneak a peek from behind. 

later that day, geto was having lunch. he finds himself unable to focus on his best friend's story, the words going in one ear and out the other. all the plays in his mind is you, and what you could possibly up to.

“satoru, i think i was seduced today after my sermon.” he spilled out, no longer able to contain his thoughts. 

“gross! how old was she? 50? 69? HA, get it? 69?” 

geto rolls his eyes at the blue eyed ‘man’ who acted immaturely any chance he got. maybe he really should have kept his thoughts to himself. it was better than trying to converse it with an actual man-child.

“goodness satoru, no. she was a few years younger than me. 4 years to be exact. she’s one of the elder’s granddaughter, and the way she spoke to me made me feel like i was sinning. i didn’t even do anything!”

“well..”

his eyebrow quirks as satoru began his sentence. 

“did she have big tits?” 

geto’s face quickly turned from curiosity to disgust. he abruptly stood up from the table, placing both hands on it for support, and got all up in satoru’s face.

“how could you ever speak so unashamedly about a lady like that?! let alone speak like that in front of a priest!”

“well forgive me father, i didn’t mean to offend you and your girlfriend,” satoru said sarcastically while putting his hands up defensively. “i’ve said worse, and you’ve never had a problem with it until now. she must’ve had big tits for you to go all preacher mode on me.“  

as much as geto didn’t want to admit it, satoru was right. there were many time's geto allowed the white haired man to say the most diabolical stuff known to man. even listening when satoru would describe women’s bodies in detail and occasionally his one night stands. why was this any different?

“excuse me, is that you father?” 

there is was.

the seductive voice he met only hours ago. both boys slowly turn their heads to the h/c girl standing right in front of them. their eyes met with the beauty talked about earlier. only now you were wearing a shorter version of the dress you wore earlier. 

“m-miss. y/n? i’m afraid you’ve caught me at a bad time. what brings you here?” 

you only acknowledge one of the two men in front of her, and of course it was geto. your eyes met his, and never shifted away. it was almost like a dance of temptation, daring him to do further than just eye contact. the dark aura coming from you was overwhelming him, or maybe it was just your strong perfume. 

“i apologize for the disruption, father geto. my grandma asked me to run some errands. i guess i’ll have to speak with you later tonight.“ 

before geto could get a word in, you once again walk off. just like before, he once again glances down there. 

forgive me Lord, for i have sinned. 

“dude what the fuck was that..” the white haired man questioned. he also noticed the thick tension that was stirred by non other than you.

“i d-don’t know. i cannot see her tonight. i’m scared she might tempt me into.. into doing something that’s against the scripture.”

he now finds himself in the confessional booth, anxiously waiting for your arrival. it was currently 9:47 PM, you were late. it did not help his anxiety at all. he’d give you until 10:15 for you to arrive. anything later would have to just be scheduled on another sunday. 

he lets out a deep breath before he hears the clattering of heels. geto takes a peak out of his curtain only to be met with a sultry gaze. he quickly closes off his curtain, and subconsciously wipes his sweaty palms on his lap. this was like any other confessional, there was nothing to be conspicuous. 

“father geto? are you there?“ you ask in a voice just above a whisper. 

geto swallows whatever was in his mouth before speaking.

 “of course i am.“ 

“ahem, forgive me father. i have sinned since i first moved into this town. actually, i sinned today after the sermon.“ 

he stays silent. he’s tempted to ask what you’ve done, and if it possibly had something to do with him. but you answer his unspoken questions before he can think about it for too long.

“before moving into this lovely town, my grandmother sent me a picture of her priest. goodness, i didn’t know what to do with myself.“ 

he was determined to stay stoic, and not to speak unless it was to say a prayer. but her hushed voice and the strong tension made it difficult. the air seemed to thicken every time she finished a sentence. geto couldn’t escape your magnetic pull of lust.

“a-and if i may ask, what did you do to deal with your problem?”

“i couldn’t resist myself. after i saw the photo of him, i began to have lewd thoughts. every night leading up to my departure, i’d touch myself thinking about him. then..”

she lets out a small moan, but geto would describe it as a small whine. now he was breathing heavily as his boxers started to tighten up. there was no way he could get hard in the church. it was sinful. but he was here to help you, and allowed you to continue.

“i met him today. after the sermon i started using objects to make myself feel satisfied. but it was nothing compared to his large hands shaking my hand. i can only imagine him using his hands going inside of me instead of holding a bible. even now, i cannot resist his voice..” you confessed as heavy breathing came from your end. 

“..come over to my side dear. let me help you.” he whispered.

you waste no time he notes from the sounds coming from the other side. your heels clacked once or twice before you pulled the curtain from his side. 

he studies your face very carefully. there was a light red tint spreading across your cheeks, and your ears were bright red. his eyes then wander down to your very revealing shirt that showed a lot of cleavage. the shirt was accompanied by a matching skirt, a very, VERY, short skirt.

you walk into the tight fitting booth. before he can get his hands on you, you kneel down in between his legs. your pretty little head lays on his left thigh.

“forgive me father. how can i ever make you forgive me for my sins?” you lift your head and your hands start to wander on the edge of his pants. “tell me father, there must be a way..”

geto feels a bead of sweat going down his forehead. there were many times that grandparents introduced their grandchildren to him, in hopes they get married. or, when satoru would convince him to agree to a blind date. his answer of rejection was always the same. 

‘i am devoted to the man above, i musn’t be distracted.’ 

where was his reasoning of rejection when he watches you pull both his pants and undergarments off? 

you grab his dick and painfully slowly lick the tip of it. leaving any pre-cum on his tip, now in your mouth. a slight moan leaves his mouth. this was a pleasure that he’s never experienced before. devoting all 24 years of his life to God has never brought this much fulfilment. 

where was his reasoning of rejection when you put his whole dick in your mouth without any hesitation?

your sudden move of deep throating him caught him off guard. he’s now holding your head in a gentle manner, as gentle as he can be. geto is lost at words, he can only moan uncontrollably while playing with your hair. the only thing he can fixate his eyes on was your beautiful hair getting tangled into his fingers. 

where was his reasoning when you made him finish in under five minutes even though it felt like an eternity for him?

you continue to suck him off, hollowing your cheeks for a better suction. your hands wander down to his balls, giving it a small massage. you're not sure what you did right, but it worked. geto was now praising your name instead of the lord’s. he feels an unfamiliar knot unwinding itself. 

“y/n.. please i feel..” he lets out a breathy moan instead of finishing his sentence. his eyes shut close to full enjoy the euphoric feeling. why did he want to reject your advances in the first place? he can't seem to remember. 

“father..” you cooed while taking off his shirt. of course, the hot pastor with a big dick was also very nicely built.

“oh geto, why do you hide this from me?”

your hands wander his chest then it starts to follow his happy trail. your movement was haltered when he reached out for your chest.

“the same could be said for yourself. show yourself to me, please. i beg.”

his eyes looked like a puppy who had been kicked. there was no sane woman in the world who would say no to his violet eyes. your hand then reaches out for his, and then place his hand on the hem of your shirt.

“take it off for me, father geto.”

being enchanted with your hypnotic gaze, it drew him like a moth to a flame. he lifted your shirt, taking your bra off as well, and stared with admiration. you had an art of seduction that was compared to no other. he watches you sit on his lap as you lift your skirt. 

this is sin. he was sinning. 

but he didn’t stop you as you sat slowly onto his dick, moaning in joy. he watches you go up and down painfully slow.

“c-can you go a little faster..?“ he moaned into your ear. being too embarrassed by his request, he buries himself on the side of your neck. taking in your scent, leaving small pecks on the spots you sprayed perfume. 

“you’re t-too big geto~” you whined into his ear before you attached your lips onto his. 

he was an inexperienced kisser. an inexperienced everything actually. it was easy for you to take the lead by biting onto his bottom lip. he opened his mouth to let out a small whine of pain and you took the opportunity to slip your tongue in. 

you feel yourself juices slide down your thigh onto geto’s lap as you continue to bounce on his dick. large hands start groping your ass, giving you a smack on one of your cheeks. you yelp in response. it was unexpected from a priest.

“father, use me. be as rough as you want with me.” your hands start undoing his bun, turning his hair into a disheveled mess. 

“i-i shouldn't be so mmm- rough on you.” 

you felt honored by his insistence on being so gentle. his grip on your waist tells you a different story. it was obvious he wanted to go faster than the pace you set.

“please geto, for me at least.”

oh, how could he ever deny your requests? 

his grip on your waist tightens as he lifts you up and rams into you. all pent up sexual frustrations he’s ever had in the past 24 years are being taken out on you. throughout the heavens and earth, you were his only sole purpose in life. the way you took him in so good without any complaints was proof enough. 

marks form on his shoulder and back from the scratches you were leaving. it was the only way you could hold yourself up. if not, you’d fall right into his arms while he’d continue to show no mercy on your pussy. 

geto was starting to feel what he felt earlier when you were in between his legs. his eyes gaze at yours, and gets a site he’d never unsee. small tears started forming, threatening to leave your eyes. your mouth agape as one hand held onto his shoulder, the other groping yourself.

“father geto, i-i’m ahh, i’m so close~”

on sync, the both of you came at the very same time.

geto found it more ironic than disgust when he saw the scene unfold. priest of six years, never had a temptation once in those six years. his lap was now covered in cum from not only his but the new girl in town. the new girl who easily seduced him

“forgive us lord, for the father and i have sinned.” you purred right into his ear, almost biting it. 

he massages your waist before finally putting you on your two feet. you're barely able to stand up without the support of the wall.

"y/n, we can never do this again. never speak to me unless it's about my sermon."

now it was his turn to leave before you could get a word in. he pulls his pants up and swiftly puts his shirt back on.

"you were sent by the devil, and i've failed my lord. stay far away from me you whore."

[zoropookie]

HOW HATERS ARE BORN (HHAB)

♡ chapter thirty-three — give it time (💋)

“I’ll admit, you made it look like a home.”

You looked around, enamored by the mutable blend of the other’s home. There was oddly a cozy charm that bled in the space, a mixture of contrasts that you wouldn’t have thought he would involve himself with.

There were soft shadows playing against the walls, promenaded by the warm and golden glow of the lamps. It was really elegant in here, yet, meticulously chosen to make you feel comfortable enough to sit down on the obviously expensive furniture.

“Didn’t know you had a…knack for interior design either.” You said hesitantly, looking at a very abstract tiny statue of a triangle on one of the shelves. Even thought you were interested, it still just felt like a painted on canvas for you. Kind of like...the idea that there can be paint on a canvas, but it doesn't make it a painting. "Learning a lot more about you everyday."

"It wasn't my idea," He sighed. "I told the interior designer 'not too many colors', and I guess she thought I was talking about completely mute."

"Feels like a sanctuary," you murmured.

Despite the dismissive words he gave you, the effort that was put into everything was clearly crafted and corroborated. You walked over to the books sitting on the coffee table, the only things out of place from the rest of the textures, reading the hard cover and smiling.

"You're really considering it?" You asked, to which Kuni turned towards you, "Taking care of the orchard outside."

He shrugged, his eyes moving back to making tea in the kitchen. "I don't have a choice. It's either me who does it, or it dies."

"That's not true, you can always pay someone to do it for you. I know there's a lot of people who may want it for themselves, it's completely healthy." You rambled, trying to see it through the long windows. "I take it that was a housewarming gift too?"

"From Furina. Came with the house, thought it'd be funny to see me struggle with something mundane."

"I heard," You grinned, not being able to keep your laugh in. "Love that for you, it's like a package deal! Did it work?"

He sighed again, running a hand through his hair at the thought. "I guess, I don't know," He started pour the tea once the pot began to steam. "I know her goal was to drive me insane. A constant reminder that no matter how far I try to distance myself from complications, they find a way to root themselves in my life."

"Hey, I wouldn't see it as that." You chuckled, the sound mixing with the soft clinking of the ceramic cups he was setting on the table. "It's probably just a way to keep you grounded after everything."

"I don't see the appeal in tending to trees."

"Maybe it's not even about that," You mused. "Maybe it's just about finding a healthy medium in your life, don't suppose you had that before, right?" You said, teasingly.

He rolled his eyes at you, a humored smile tugging at his lips. "You're one to preach about silver linings."

Your jaw dropped, a small scoff coming from your mouth. "I actually came here to truce, thank you very much. Even though you're the one who tried to run away from me — news flash, didn't work, genius. Still pissed off about that. I'm glad that Furina is looking to help you as much as she's looking to out you."

"Running away is my thing." He squinted playfully, "Like she's big help anyway. The only reason she's in on it is because she wants us to have this romance trope going on for real this time. It's stupid as fuck."

You paused at his words, feeling yourself swallow a big lump some of the tea nestled in your mouth. You shivered at the heat that washed on you, pursing your lips in thought as you let the conversation simmer. The two of you standing in a companionable silence. The trees outside rustled gently in the breeze, their leaves a vibrant contrast to the muted tones inside.

"I mean, I don't know," You paused, cringing as your fingers tightened on your cup. "I don't think it's stupid."

Kuni stiffened too, gaze flickering away for a moment before returning to meet yours. There was a certain look that you've never seen before from him. You couldn't decipher his actual feelings. "I figured."

Your cheeks flushed. "Holy shit, never mind if you were expecting it already." You hissed to yourself, trying to ebb how much embarrassment was on your skin. "Look, I need to check into my hotel soon—"

"Sit down." He cut you off, assertiveness in his tone enough to get you to immediately listen, plopping back down. There was an unexpected gravity that was with him, another departure from his nonchalant attitude.

Your heart hammered rapid fire in your chest, a mix of fear and total apprehension were doing a waltz on your general disposition. The more time you were here, the more you worried about the next time you'll make an absolute fucking fool of yourself. You fidgeted with your fingers.

"What really brought you here." He asked, expectantly. "First thing you give me is a hug, and some words of affirmation. You're not here just to catch up, especially after I blew you off."

"I wanted to see you again." You admitted, the weight of your own words pressing down on you. "You owned up to it, left your part of the Internet in a spiral, and then didn't bother to talk to me after that."

He was looking at you, you sensed it. And it wasn't like you could look at him back, otherwise you were going to melt. It was different seeing him from up close, it was an original experience to you if you could name it anything.

His eyes were searching you, despite all you said, as if trying to decipher if you were being genuine. His eyes bored into you like a tiny laser burning your skin. He nodded, a sliver of understanding crossing his face. "You gave me the impression that you were done. I left it at that."

"Yeah, well, I felt like the only one who could leave it at anything was me."

Despite how sticky and tense it was again, you felt relieved that he wasn't as malicious as he was behind the screen. You were relieved that at least the worst of it was over. But it didn't didn't help the burning in your chest, the aching of the bubble in your throat. "Ei really made you do all that stuff? It's not because you really do hate me, right?"

There was no more pretending anymore, no more hiding behind false bravado or dissing each other behind screens like pussies. It was only raw honesty, vulnerable and exposed.

"(Y/N)." His expression softened, a silent dilemma clear on his face. He gathered his own courage, squaring his shoulders a bit and looking at you again. "I'm sorry."

You felt dazed, electricity in the air around you, the world officially tilted on its axis to you. "What?" You accentuated snippier than you intended.

"You were collateral. Nothing that you did deserved what happened to you. Makes sense that you did what you did, you weren't the problem." He explained, shoulders slumped again. "I was behind what I did, at the end of the day; Ei just told me to do it. I'm sorry for being part of the reason you couldn't bounce back. I know if the situation were different, I'd leave you alone."

People kept saying that to you these days, that nothing that happened was because you deserved it. Maybe you never quite got the picture until Kuni said something along the lines of it. You never thought that him apologizing to you would garner the oddest reaction out of you.

Because why was it sexy..? Stop.

"And," He sighed, grabbing your attention lightspeed again. "I would consider liking you more if this all didn't happen. You're alright."

His admission of everything was catching you off guard left and right. You had no idea what to feel with the prominent knot in your stomach. "Do you like me?" "(Y/N), I don't want to—"

"I'm alright, in your words, but do you like me?" Your tone solidified with each word slowly jutting out, assertiveness hardening your composure. "Tell me. Look at me and tell me."

The uncertainly stretched on for what was practically indefinitely. He held his breath, as did you, waiting for his response. Your heart was ruthless against you, beating against your body. He sized you up, seeking an answer for himself.

"...Yeah?" He admitted, voice barely audible as he tried to find his own words. But everything he did think of was so unlike him, out of his personal way of handling things like this. "Yeah. I do."

You blinked, both of your eye contact filling a certain, more romantic space that neither of you even thought was there before today. But the more you realized it, the more you realized that maybe the sexual tension was always there.

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YOU ARE on your way to being one of the hottest streamer in your nation at the moment, racking a monthly average of 10 million viewers, but something specific bothers you about it. you know that a lot of people hate you, but there's this one account. one account that's been following you since the early days of your career. they leave a flood of rude comments in your stream, your moderators banned each account they made, but they keep making more. you are at the end of your tether. but you are yet to find out that this persistent cockroach is none other than your friend's friend (and the only other streamer that's bigger than you), scaramouche.

taglist ♡ @thystarsshine @veekoko @gumickajolli @simonisferal @kamiboo

@justpeachyteastea @feiherp @pinkismyfavcolor @aether-darling @kunisnaomi

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@liuaneee @franaby @tiddieshakeshownu @mimi3lover @kavineyah

@kittywagun (bold users means i'm having trouble tagging you)

[jessamine-rose]

⋆˚♱ଘ Red Sky at Night, Shepherd’s Delight ଓ♱˚⋆

*slides in with more Church AU ideas* May I interest y’all in Priest! Arlecchino x Devotee! Darling?? Do enjoy this sweet story ໒꒰ྀི´ ˘ ` ꒱ྀིა

Tw:: yandere, manipulation, psychological trauma, stalking, blood, violence, death, religious abuse, self-flagellation, harassment, MDNI, pls take note of these warnings

Note:: FICTIONAL depictions of religion

♡ 3.7k words under the cut ♡

♡ As with most nations, the Church is the highest authority in Fontaine. This is especially true for the Court of Fontaine, a city that boasts a strong faith in God. However, it is this same faith which has been corrupted by the Church to spin a web of lies, prejudices, and hypocrisies. Still, there is hope for that city, as provided by its head priest Arlecchino.

♡ Not much can be said about her previous life. In the past, she was known as Peruere, a quiet orphan from the House of the Hearth. Raised by her predecessor Crucabena, Peruere followed in her footsteps and claimed to have felt a calling to priesthood. There was a beauty to it, the idea of a child giving back to the Church by bringing its followers closer to salvation. At least, that is how the public perceived her vocation.

♡ In truth, Peruere’s motivations were different. Shortly after her ordination, Crucabena disappeared under mysterious circumstances and her authority was passed on to Arlecchino. Immediately afterwards, she began to reform the Church and the House of the Hearth. She challenged the Church’s falsehoods, eliminated the other corrupt priests, and preached a more compassionate form of worship.

♡ Despite her efforts, however, scars run deep within the city. The children weren’t the only ones harmed by Crucabena; her influence spanned the entire Court of Fontaine, from religious schools to devout families. In the latter’s case, it can be difficult for Arlecchino to reach out to individuals and correct their beliefs. But some have taken to her like a moth to flame, actively seeking out her enlightenment. One such moth is you.

☾⋆｡ ๋

“Excuse me, Father!”

The Church is silent in the wake of mass. Footsteps and voices echo as believers depart to go on with their daily lives. The children are walking through the exit connected to the House of the Hearth, their solemn demeanors giving way to laughter. Only two people remain.

As always, you linger behind Arlecchino, head bowed.

“Ah, ______.” She turns around to face you. “Is something the matter?”

You look the same—shy expression, modest clothing, rosary in hand.

In a quiet voice, you tell her, “I am in need of your guidance. Yesterday, I…can we discuss this in your office? I’ll try to keep it short this time.”

“Ah, of course. Follow me.”

By now, it has become routine for you to approach Arlecchino after weekly mass. She leads you down a hallway and into her private office, her confident gait juxtaposed by your meek footsteps. A few words are whispered to a passing nun—orders to prepare your favorite tea and desserts.

In the meantime, she takes a seat on the sofa and gives you a polite smile.

“Go on. You have my undivided attention.”

☾⋆｡ ๋

♡ If Arlecchino’s trauma led to her disillusionment with the Church, then yours brought you “closer” to God. Technically, there is nothing wrong with your devotion—you pray daily, treat people with compassion, and derive a sense of solace from your religion. The harm lies in your blind faith, your total dependence on Arlecchino’s guidance.

♡ While you’ve accepted Arlecchino’s stance on religion, you still abide by Crucabena’s doctrine when it comes to your own religious life. You abstain from all vices. You repent for actions which barely count as sins. You are in a constant state of shame, guilt, paranoia, confusion. She can only imagine just how traumatic your meetings with Crucabena were.

♡ Still, you make for enjoyable company. It is common for Arlecchino to see you in the House of the Hearth bearing gifts for the children—and she can tell the difference between performances and your genuine acts of charity. When you aren’t confiding in her, you inquire about her hobbies, her favorite things, her life before priesthood. There is something so pitiful, so precious about your trust in her.

♡ Which is why Arlecchino is quick to notice a shift in your attitude. It begins with you sitting in the middle pews during mass, rather than your usual spot in the front row. During communion, you avoid eye contact and accept the wafer from her with trembling hands. There is a decrease in your private meetings. Fortunately, there is no need for her to investigate; rather, you provide the answer on a silver platter.

♡ Confessions are a wellspring of valuable information. Be it a direct admission or small details, such encounters have aided Arlecchino in punishing those who commit evil under the guise of virtue. Neither is it difficult for her to deduce one’s identity through their voice and mannerisms. So when she recognizes you beyond the screen, she wonders why you opted for the confessional rather than your usual face-to-face confessions with her.

☾⋆｡ ๋

“Bless me, father, for I have sinned. My last confession was one week ago.”

That is the first thing you tell her. From the center compartment, Arlecchino can imagine you doing the sign of the cross. The ritualistic gesture lends a short-lived grace to your movements, your hands honed by years of practice.

A pause. “Pardon my insolence but I must know: I am not speaking to Father Arlecchino, am I?”

Oh?

“You are not,” is her swift response, spoken in an altered voice. “And why do you ask? Does your confession concern the head priest?”

What secrets could you possibly be hiding from her?

She hears a hitched breath. “No! I just don’t want her to know. So please, what I’m about to tell you…don’t breathe a word of it to anyone else.”

“But of course. And what do you have to confess, my child?”

There is the sound of beads clicking together—your rosary, an old violet-and-black set designed by Crucabena. Arlecchino owned an identical one up until her death.

“These past years,” you whisper, “I have been consumed with carnal desires.”

She sits up straighter. “Desires?”

“It’s complicated,” you mutter. “There’s this person I’ve known for years, and I’ve always looked up to them as a fellow believer. Yet over time, I’ve been plagued with…impure thoughts of them. They captivate me. Their attention brings me joy and anxiety in equal parts. They haunt my thoughts in debauched fantasies. Yet we aren’t even married, much less lovers.”

Who are they?

A spider has taken up residence in a corner of the ceiling. It sits in the center of a silvery web, waiting for its prey.

She clears her throat. “And what is the matter with that? It is true that many view lust as a sin. But carnal desires are natural and not evil as to warrant eternal damnation.”

Silence. Most likely, you are mulling over what she just said; discernment isn’t your strong suit.

It’s just like you to fret over an ordinary crush. But who is this person that ensnared your heart? Do they know you as well as her?

Arlecchino continues speaking. “Moreover, no human is immune to temptation. From what you told me, it is clear that you have made active efforts to suppress your lust. So is it not possible for you to resist this so-called temptation, if not distance yourself from the object of your desire?”

“But how can I resist temptation when its very source lies in the Church?!”

Even Arlecchino is caught off-guard by your outburst. It is followed by your horrified gasp.

“What do you mean?” she asks.

Your next words are spoken in an even softer voice. “It’s Father Arlecchino. She is the one I desire.”

A fly buzzes through the latticed screen of the confessional. It briefly hovers around Arlecchino before she swats it away.

“Ah, now I understand.”

“She hasn’t done anything to me!” you add quickly. “I swear, it’s purely one-sided. And that is what distresses me most of all. She is a woman of God, dedicated to the salvation of His flock, yet here I am making a mockery of her righteousness.”

“And what do you see in her?”

“Where do I even begin? She’s kind. I know there are people who speak ill of her, claiming she preaches falsehoods, but I’ve witnessed her compassion with my own eyes. The orphans love her. The Church is warmer, more welcoming under her authority. And…”

The fly has taken a liking to the spiderweb. Spying its prospective prey, the spider begins its crawl towards the edge of the web.

You take a deep breath. “She knows of my religious struggles yet has never given me reason to fear her judgment. She is the one who helped me discern my vocation. She is the one who put a stop to my self-flagellation, even though that penance was assigned by Mother Crucabena. She is the one who has reassured me, time and time again, that I am worthy of God’s love. She…”

That is when you burst into tears.

For the next few minutes, the only sounds in the confessional are your choked sobs and rosary beads. Arlecchino herself remains silent but her thoughts are just as discordant.

Her gaze drifts to her necklace. It is a far cry from Crucabena’s rosary, a long chain from which hangs a silver cross adorned with ornate engravings and crimson jewels. When she presses down on a specific jewel, the pendant separates to reveal a hidden blade.

How long has it been since she struck Crucabena with that false symbol?

“I’ve tried so hard to be good,” you continue between sobs. “All my life, I’ve done my best to resist temptation and abide by the Church’s teachings. So why…? What I feel for Father Arlecchino—it’s disgusting, it’s not normal, it cannot be called love. But I…”

Your voice trails off. In her mind’s eye, Arlecchino sees you kneeling with your head bowed and your rosary looped around your clasped hands. If only she could wipe your tears.

“And I am truly sorry for all my sins,” you sniffle. “Now please, Father, what is my penance? If you tell me to distance myself from Father Arlecchino, then I will do so at once. If anything, I think she’d prefer it; I’ve wasted enough of her time.”

“Hush, my child,” she says sharply. Then, in a gentler tone, she adds, “Give me time to think.”

The fly is caught in the spider’s web. From her seat, Arlecchino watches as the spider bites down on the struggling insect and wraps it in silk, sealing its unfortunate fate.

Well, this was an unexpected answer, but not an unfortunate one.

In truth, she cares little about her vow of chastity. It is but a minor offense compared to those of her fellow priests. As for your attraction towards her, it doesn’t bother her at all. Her own sentiments require further reflection but for now…

“Why not put your desires to the test?”

There is the sound of beads hitting the floor. “Excuse me?”

In a calm voice, she explains, “There is nothing inherently sinful about falling in love with a priest. Rather, the fault should lie in the priest who cannot commit to their vow of chastity. But that, too, can be put into question—after all, nowhere in the religious texts is it explicitly stated that God demanded celibacy from His shepherds. It is for this reason that other denominations allow their priests to marry and procreate.”

“I see,” you mutter. “Though I doubt our Church would permit that anytime soon.”

“Who knows? As for the matter of your penance…like you said, it is impossible to escape the object of your desire. So why don’t you continue your usual interactions with Father Arlecchino? It will enable you to discern whether what you feel for her is truly lust or love. And should you ever confess your feelings to her, she will be the one to instruct you on what to do.”

“Is that all? Surely, there must be another—”

She cuts you off. “That is the only way. It is my belief that you need only desire something with sufficient intensity and God will answer. Or are you doubting my words as a priest?”

Your fearful “no!” puts an end to your confession. Thus, you recite your prayers and leave the confessional. After a while, Arlecchino makes a stealthy exit.

Just as she expected, you are still praying inside the Church. With your dried tears and tightly clasped hands, you make a perfect image of repentance.

Shaking her head, she walks down the hallway and into her office.

The tea table is empty. That will change tomorrow; she already has the perfect choice of desserts in mind. Cakes, tarts, macarons, all of your favorite treats.

The next day, an invitation is delivered to your doorstep. The envelope bears the official seal of the Church of Fontaine.

☾⋆｡ ๋

♡ Since then, Arlecchino has treated you differently. In the past, her religious counsel took the form of reassurances, open-ended questions, and reminders that only you can discern your own fate. But now she finds herself giving you more specific lessons and instructions. She invites you to more tea parties and private events in the House of the Hearth. 

♡ She is also more…physical these days. During mass, she puts the communion wafer in your mouth, a gloved thumb brushing against your lip. On your walks to her office, she places her hand on your back, forcing you to match her pace. At one point, she even pulls you aside and tells you to disrobe so she can see if you are wearing your scapular properly. There is a moment of silence when your scars are exposed, followed by the warm sensation of her fingertips tracing your skin.

♡ However, it doesn’t take long for another issue to arise. One mass, Arlecchino notices that a certain individual has moved to the front pews to sit next to you. This continues for weeks, with him speaking to you before and after the service. You’re clearly uncomfortable around him, and it reaches the point that you mention it to Arlecchino during a tea party.

♡ Quietly, you explain that you are being harassed by one of your coworkers. For weeks, he has been bothering you at work, walking you home from mass, showing no signs of accepting your blatant rejections. Even worse, no one is taking your distress seriously due to his popularity within the Court of Fontaine. Normally, Arlecchino would be quick to eliminate him but she decides on another solution which would kill two birds with one stone.

♡ Her suggestion is that you stay in the Church for a few weeks. It is a convenient arrangement on both sides—the children are already familiar with you; the House of the Hearth has no shortage of rooms; and in the worst-case scenario, it can serve as a trial period for nunhood. In the past, Arlecchino did deem your personality fitting for a life of religious service, though you disagreed on the basis that you weren’t “worthy” of such an important role.

♡ It doesn’t take long for you to adjust. The House of the Hearth is quiet, secure, shielded from outside disturbances. The children are friendly to you, and they all agree that you’d fare well as their caretaker. Best of all, Arlecchino has more excuses to spend time with you—barbeque parties, walks along the sea, meetings with the other priests and nuns, nightly conversations in your room. It feels like home.

♡ One day, you are fitted into a nun’s habit. It looks perfect on you, with a few embellishments to suit your style preferences. Arlecchino personally helps you into the outfit, fixing the buttons and smoothing out imaginary creases. The final piece is a cross necklace identical to her own; she casually reveals the hidden blade and claims it is a self-defense mechanism. When you cast your gaze upon your shared reflection in the mirror, a flustered smile adorns your face.

♡ Still, you are undecided on your “true” vocation. Eventually, you decide to return to your job and think it over. Arlecchino personally escorts you to your house and insists that you keep your cross necklace, if only to replace your “missing” rosary. Once the front door is shut, she casts a harsh glare upon the figure across the street. Later, her children are assigned to keep watch over you and your stalker.

♡ For the next few days, all is well. Your daily life resumes. Arlecchino keeps a close eye on you through her children’s reports and her own inspections. After mass, the two of you enjoy another tea party, and you make no mention of your stalker. When the news reaches the city of an upcoming celestial phenomenon, you eagerly accept Arlecchino’s invitation for a viewing party.

♡ The crimson moon rises, bathing the world in a blood-red glow. While the children gaze at the moon, Arlecchino waits for you in front of the orphanage. Strange, punctuality is one of your virtues yet you’re late. Just as she is about to leave for your house, Freminet frantically approaches her and leads her to the Church.

♡ Red. It’s all over you, and not from the moonlight. The first thing Arlecchino sees is you curled up on the floor in a state of shock. In the heart of the Church lies a familiar figure—your stalker, writhing on the floor as blood pools from his chest. Lynette stands over him, ensuring that he won’t escape, while Lyney tries and fails to console you.

♡ All three of her children are wearing their crosses. Yours is on the floor, its blade exposed and tainted with blood. Lyney is the one who explains the situation to Arlecchino: They heard a commotion in the Church and by the time they arrived, you had driven your cross into your stalker’s heart. He had attacked you and paid the price.

♡ Calmly, Arlecchino tells Freminet to bring you to the orphanage. Once you are gone, she walks up to your stalker and stomps on his head, piercing his skull with her stiletto. Lyney and Lynette are told to dispose of the body, clean up the church, then return to the party. The crimson moon serves as a silent witness all throughout.

☾⋆｡ ๋

“Father, your face…”

As soon as he sees her, Freminet leaves your room and closes the door behind him.

“Freminet.” Arlecchino wipes the blood off her cheek. “That sinner has been dealt with. You may return to the party.”

“Oh? Okay.” He nods, casting a worried look at your door. As he walks down the hallway, one of his hands comes up to touch his cross pendant.

With that, Arlecchino enters your room.

Even in your change of clothes, your visage is painted crimson by the moonlight. Your body is slumped against the bed, knees on the floor. No sounds leave your lips save for short breaths. Tiny crescents mar your arms—a coping mechanism or an attempt at penance?

Wordlessly, she sits next to you and pats your head with a gloved hand.

“Father.” You are the one to break the silence. “What just…”

“That man is dead.” She says it plainly, her tone void of judgment. “He won’t be able to torment you any longer.”

You immediately look up, eyes glossy. “Are you sure?! Did I…?”

In the blood-red moonlight, your anguish is clear as day. Your hands tremble, nails digging into the mattress, before clasping together in a graceless effort to steel yourself. But the familiar gesture does little to calm you, all prayers futile in the wake of your sin.

“This is it. I’m really going to burn in Hell,” you sob. “I didn’t mean to—what should I do, Father?”

This time, Arlecchino spares no warmth in consoling you. She adjusts your body so that your head rests on her lap, letting your tears drip onto her cassock. Her hand remains on the back of your head, stroking your hair.

“There is no need to fret,” she says gently. “Before the moon sets, the Church will be purged of that man’s filth and it will be as though he never appeared tonight.”

You shake your head. “Even then, you…God knows what I have done.”

“Listen to me.” She tilts your face upwards, her expression firm. “All you did was use your cross necklace for its intended purpose—to save yourself from harm. And yet even in the face of evil, you claim to be the one who sinned. None of this is your fault, ______.”

Her other hand caresses your cheek, wiping away your tears.

“Perhaps it is all part of God’s plan,” she muses. As she speaks, she kneels to your level and holds your hands, intertwining your fingers. “We live in a cruel world and it is only in places such as my Church that safety can be promised. Should you take the veil, no other sinners would dare to violate your virtue.”

Your next words are soft, hesitant, filled with disbelief. “Are you saying that I can still become a nun?! That you…you don’t mind keeping me around?”

“And for what reason would I deny you sanctuary?” she asks, her expression shifting to a frown. “As a priest, it is my duty to shepherd God’s flock. And as a person, it is my desire to protect those I cherish. Everything I do is for your own good.”

For once, you are rendered speechless. All you can do is stare at your lap, at your hands clasped together.

When Arlecchino leans towards you, her grip prevents you from drawing back.

“All you must do is listen to me,” she whispers. “Until our mortal deaths, I will be the one to lead you away from true temptation and deliver you from evil. Does it seem agreeable to you?”

“I…I guess so,” you whimper. Nervously, you meet her gaze, your eyes alight with a glimmer of hope. “If it’s you, I can believe it.”

“Good. And remember this always, ______.”

The crimson moon shines brightly, casting a blood-red halo around your savior. And as Arlecchino pulls you closer, your lips a breath away from a kiss, a secret is divulged with the fervence of a sacred prayer.

“God still loves you. As do I.”

♡

More Church AU here!! Dottore ๑ Capitano ๑ Pantalone ๑ Pierro ๑ Dainsleif

Note:: Please do not send me any Church AU asks/ requests involving other characters or dynamics who are not listed in my masterlist.

…Don’t ask me how many times I broke down over Priest! Arlecchino. Just don’t. To all of the Arle simps out there, I hope I did your wife justice. And may you all suffer from brainrot bc I refuse to be the only one in pain (⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝)

Lastly, lots of love to @diodellet for beta-reading this fic and my mutuals for indulging my brainrot. I hope this was worth the wait <3

Tag an Arlecchino enjoyer!! @navxry @leftdestiny-posts @beloved-blaiddyd @ainescribe @vennnnn-diagram @stickyspeckledlight @harmonysanreads @ddarker-dreams

[watarfallar]

Desert Duo treats because it's a week until Christmas

Grian: I’m going to get so much done today. Scar: I’ll hold you to that. *8 hours later* Scar: So how much did you get done? Grian: One thing. Scar: Well, that’s one more than usual.

Scar: So my therapist was talking to me and she said that I really just need to break down my walls and let people in. Scar: So I’ve decided to break the fourth wall. Scar: *looks at camera* Hi there. I use humor as a coping mechanism.

Scar: Hey, are you alright with swearing? Asking for a friend. Grian: Yeah? Scar: Bitch.

Grian: *Gives a bouquet to Scar* Scar: You know I'm allergic. Grian: That's the point.

Grian: Is this mistletoe? Scar: Uh, no, no, that is basil. Grian: Too bad cause if it was mistletoe I was gonna kiss you. Scar: Yeah, no, it’s still basil.

Grian: What have I done wrong?! Scar: Everything. For your entire life.

Scar: If it’s any consolation, they got me here on a very misleading text message. Grian: Technically, you are about to be screwed in the biology room.

Scar: What is wrong with you? Grian: Many, many things… Grian: And most of them are your fucking fault.

Scar: Live fast, die young, leave behind a pretty corpse! That’s what I always say! Grian: You should say something else.

Grian: My back hurts. Scar, walking into the room: Take the spine out.

Scar: Everything will be ok. You can not stop it. Scar: Everything will be fine. You have no choice. Grian: What the fuck kind of pep talk is that? Scar: Ominous positivity.

Grian: Scar, what did you just do!? Scar: I took your advice. I stopped running from the problem and I tackled it head on. Grian: I meant try emotional honesty, not murder!!

Scar: I’ve become a bread crumb dealer to four crows at the lake. They pay me with a bit of everything. Like shiny things, fabric, or pens. But recently they paid me with a 20 dollar bill they found somewhere. So I decided to buy them some more expensive bread. They loved it. So they understand what to do. Give me money. I’ve probably racked up about 200 dollars at this point. Is it morally wrong though, I mean. They’re the ones who steal the money from others. Or perhaps they just have a big pile laying somewhere. Should I keep on doing this? Grian: You sound like the start of a Batman villain.

Scar: Detective! The man belonged to some kind of cult that worshipped a divine forest creature with antlers and that’s how he met his end. Grian: Dear God! Scar: Yeah! Exactly!

Grian: You've got to act tough, Scar! Show 'em you can't be pushed around! Show 'em they can't mess with you! Scar: Right. Yes. Tough. Got it. Scar, standing up on their stool and slamming their hands down on the bar: I'LL TAKE A CHOCOLATE MILK.

Grian: Fight me! Scar: gets on one knee and pulls out a ring Scar: Fight me for the rest of our lives.

Grian: Don’t preach to me about romance, Scar. I had a three-way in a hot-air balloon.

Scar: What’s sexting? Grian: I'm not having this conversation with you.

Grian: If I ever had a child, I imagine they would be a lot like you. Scar: Aww, thanks— Grian: Which is probably why I’ve never reproduced.

Scar: What’s your greatest weakness? Grian: Interpreting the semantics of a question, but ignoring the pragmatics. Scar: Could you give an example? Grian: Yes, I could.

Scar: Okay, but what if we went to dinner not as friends this time? Grian: AS ENEMIES?! Scar:

Scar: I desire moisture. Grian: Please just say "I want water" like a normal person.

Scar: Babe, you're so funny! Grian: We have 1492 days until your tragic premature death. You will break my trust three times before that happens, but I forgive you. Scar: Awwww, that's sweet of you!

Grian: I didn’t want to do it, no one else wanted to do it, so I made Scar do it!

Scar: You got a date yet Grian? Grian: No… Scar: Well you do now! Get your ass up and hold my hand!

Grian: Dammit, you ruin everything! Scar: You're welcome.

Scar: They called me the B-word. Grian: Motherfucker doesn’t start with ‘b’.

Scar, talking about Grian: WHAT THE FUCK I WAS ARGUING WITH HIM AND I SAID “OOH YOU WANNA KISS ME SO BAD” AND GUESS WHAT? HE DID. HE KISSED ME. WHAT THE FUCK WHAT DO I DO.

[sativaonsaturn]

the signs in love (songs for the signs pt.2)

(check venus, moon, mars, lilith, juno!)

aries/ 1st house (a steadfast love): Love On the Brain by Rihanna (who has an aries venus)

“So you can put me together/ And throw me against the wall”

“baby I'm fist fighting with fire/ Just to get close to you”

“Don't you stop loving me/ Don't quit loving me”

taurus/ 2nd house (a strong, steady love): Real Woman by PartyNextDoor (who has a taurus venus)

“Give her what she want/ Give me just what I want”

“Last night, we were sippin' Henny and now we doin' deals”

“I'm lockin' it in 'til the very end”

“Shawty met a boss like me and put a hundred down on a condo downtown with me”

gemini/ 3rd house (an expressive, exciting love): Houdini by Dua Lipa (whose lilith is in gemini)

“I come and I go/ Tell me all the ways you need me/ I'm not here for long”

“If you're good enough, you'll find a way/ Maybe you could cause a girl to change”

“Everything you say is soundin' so sweet/ But do you practise everything that you preach?”

cancer/ 4th house (a warm, comforting love): Every Kind of Way by HER (who has a cancer venus)

“You're here with me/ Boy, it don't get no better than you”

“I wanna love you in every kind of way/ I wanna please you, no matter how long it takes”

“If the world should end tomorrow and we only have today/ I'm gonna love you in every kind of way”

leo/ 5th house (a passionate love): Part II (On the Run) by Jay Z & Beyoncé (her w/ a leo mars)

“I don't care if we on the run/ Baby, 'long as I'm next to you”

“And if loving you is a crime/ Tell me why do I bring out the best in you?”

“I don't care if they give me life, I get all of my life from you/ And if loving you had a price I would pay my life for you”

virgo/ 6th house (a considerate love): My Love Mine All Mine by Mitski (who has a virgo venus)

“Moon, tell me if I could send up my heart to you/ So, when I die, which I must do could it shine down here with you?”

“My baby, here on earth/ Showed me what my heart was worth”

“Nothing in the world is mine for free/ But my love mine, all mine, all mine”

libra/ 7th house (a storybook love): Adorn by Miguel (who has a libra mars)

“Just let my love adorn you”

“Baby, these fists will always protect ya”

“Whole world's in your eyes (when I look in your eyes, baby)”

scorpio/ 8th house (an all-consuming love): Work Song by Hozier (his scorpio lilith in 8th reminds me of this)

“No grave can hold my body down, I’ll crawl home to her”

“But I swear I thought I dreamed her/ She never asked me once about the wrong I did”

“If the Lord don’t forgive me, I’d still have my baby and my babe would have me”

sagittarius/ 9th house (a thrilling love): Lowkey by Teyana Taylor (whose venus is in sag)

“If I let you, would you make a move?”

“I want it but this ain't the right time/ But, damnit, you're so fine”

“Runnin' and runnin', ain't runnin' from love/ I'm so willin' to give it a try”

capricorn/ 10th house (a serious love): You Don’t Know My Name by Alicia Keys (who has a capricorn venus)

“There's something special 'bout you, I must really like you/ 'Cause not a lotta guys are worth my time”

“I see us on our first date/ You're doin' everything that makes me smile”

“Doin' more than I've ever done for anyone's attention/ Take notice of what's in front of you”

aquarius/ 11th house (a rebellious/ unconventional love): Take Me to Church by Hozier (who has an aquarius venus)

“My lover’s got humor/ She’s the giggle at a funeral”

“Knows everybody’s disapproval/ Should’ve worshipped her sooner”

“We were born sick, heard them say it/ I was born sick but I love it”

“If I’m a pagan of the good times/ My lover’s the sunlight”

pisces/12th house (a longing love): Blessed by Daniel Caesar (who has a pisces venus)

“I don’t wanna be there, don’t wanna be anywhere/ Anyplace that I can’t feel you, I just wanna be near you”

“Sometimes it gets unhealthy/ We can’t be by ourselves, we will always need each other”

“When I go, I don’t stay gone for long”

bonus:

venus in 4th (a committed love): positions by Ariana Grande (who is a cancer sun)

“Boy, I’m tryna meet your mama on a Sunday”

“Switchin the positions for you/ I’m in the Olympics way I’m jumping through hoops”

“Know my love infinite, nothing I wouldn’t do”

sativaonsaturn 🍃🪐

[what-even-is-thiss]

There’s all this bad news going on right now in the trans community and to a certain extent I feel like I should talk about it because I’ve kinda got a platform. But I’m just. I’m tired. I’ve been tired for a long time.

I’ve always seen trans people as my people. Doesn’t matter their gender or race or past or nationality or anything. Even when I was deep in the closet I was like I feel that. That’s my people. And my people are being harassed by people in power. My people are being murdered. My people are being turned against each other by outsiders. But the cynical part of me, the extremely tired part of me is like, what else is new? What else is new? What thoughts could I possibly add to any of this? What hasn’t already been said? If you won’t listen to the rest of my people at this point, why would you listen to me? I’m not separate from them. I’m just as much of a tranny faggot cross dresser genderweird freak as any of them.

And if you’re actually listening, chances are you’re either one of my people or made your mind up about us a long time ago. I’m preaching to the choir here. I’m mourning for the dead and those still alive. I’m doing the same things I’ve always done, seeing the same things I’ve always seen. Another transfem will get banned and harassed, another child will die, another brother or sister or sibling will be shot down for their gender or their color or both and my anger is there. It’s always been there. But you reach a point in the cycle where you’ve seen the outrage go in and out of fashion a week at a time. The injustices looked at for a minute or two and then forgotten. And maybe each cycle brings us a little closer to some sort of tipping point where someday we will be more accepted than not but it shouldn’t be like that. The violence and the harassment shouldn’t be what gets people looking at us.

But the cynical part of me is tired right now. What can I add? What can I say? I’m tired of this cycle. I’m tired of the needle moving slowly. But I’m just one guy. What can I do? What can I say that hasn’t already been said?

If I have to say one thing, I’ll say that. You should listen to my people while we’re here. Even during the short and quiet peaceful times. Not only after we’ve been wronged or killed.

[cosmichahn]

PINING

Melissa Schemmenti x Fem!Reader —☆

about: they always said what happens at PECSA, stays at PECSA...but not this one.

warning/s: mild cursing

word count: 2.6k

note/s: this has been sitting in my drafts for a while, whoops! but anw, hope you guys enjoy it :)

“Philadelphia 76ers tickets?” You whisper-ask whilst looking at Ava who had just announced it to everyone. “Yeah, I’ll pass.”

It’s teacher appreciation week, and to be fair, you just want to see the band club perform for tomorrow’s assembly. It’s a little piece that you helped them prepare for all of the teachers to watch. This one was kept as a little secret from Janine; no offense to her, but you thought she might twist the crooks and nooks a little with the performance if she found out.

“We have a strong contender, everyone.” Ava grins with malice after what you said which left everyone confused.

“Why are you passing on this opportunity?” Janine gasped, sounding as though she had just got offended.

“If it were a concert from an artist I liked, I wouldn’t pass.” You shrug. “It isn’t, and I might just get confused with everything.”

“I know who to give the two tickets now to, oh, yes.” The principal says which then catches everyone’s attention away from you.

Gregory then asks suspiciously. “What do you mean, two?”

“We only have two tickets and I was gonna give them two to only one teacher.” Ava explained, hearing groans from everyone while you decided to silently excuse yourself and head to your classroom which is on the second floor.

---

Some of the morning classes have passed, and thus, the first break of the day before lunch. Set in the teachers’ lounge, chaos was something not to be avoided, until Ava asked for everyone to go to the library for an emergency meeting, as well as ask for a Sprite.

As you were about to go on by yourself, Ava proceeded to send you a message that asked for said Sprite. With a silent groan, but a small feel of relief, you just went ahead quickly. Thankfully, the fast food place with Sprite was near the school anyway.

At first, you were a bit lazy to drive off, but on second thought, the meeting was gonna be about the tickets anyway; so it didn’t really bother you as much. You wouldn’t want to spend half an hour listening to others bickering about tickets, although it would be a funny sight to see them arguing and bantering over who gets the tickets, likewise what Ava would feel if she saw that scene herself.

You were then soon on your way to the library after about 15 minutes of driving there and back where you got yourself something while also including Ava’s Sprite. And as you entered the library, “Sorry for being late, Ava. Here’s your Spri-”

“Here is our winner, the owner of the two tickets!” She announced proudly, presenting you similarly to some kind of prize.

Your eyes widened, and your eyebrows furrowed. “Wait, Ava, no! You know what happened the last time you gave something similar to someone who didn’t want it.” Everyone’s stare then transferred to Daryl and his eyelashes. “And why me? Why not Mr. Johnson?”

“Yeah, she’s damn right. I deserve it!” Mr. Johnson preaches from behind with a broom in his hand, like a staff from some Dungeons & Dragons game.

“Because you don’t have anyone to go with and I can be the perfect match to accompany you to this game.” Ava says with a huge smile plastered on her face. “Unless you’re gonna bring your secret girlfriend to the game. Betrayal.” She then looks at Melissa who catches up on what she just said.

“Oh, she’s not- '' You try to explain, placing the fast food bag on one of the tables. “No, no, Ava, you got it wrong.” You add, chuckling nervously.

“Yeah, that’s not what my ears found out when I heard all the flirting in each other’s classrooms, huh?” Ava teased.

“I think this is a little more interesting than basketball right now.” Janine whispers to Jacob and Gregory with a little laugh that escapes her mouth.

“Didn’t we bet on this?” Jacob replies.

With Gregory saying, “Yes, you guys did.”

It started around when the school year started and you and Melissa began to grow closer to each other after a debacle about different cuisines. She mostly stuck with Italian, and you, on the other hand, explored different dishes from different cultures. It was a mutual love for food; that could perhaps have also turned into a mutual liking and interest for each other.

“It’s just a little flirting, Ava.” Melissa shrugs her shoulders, with you agreeing.

“A little friendly banter.” You add.

“PECSA Weekend.” Jacob says and coughs in between words that earned various curious looks from the other teachers and Janine’s eyes widening with her mouth trying to cover a stifled laugh.

You feel a little awkward while mouthing, ‘What the fuck?’ You shake your head at Jacob, with eyebrows furrowed.

‘For the sake of the tickets.’ He mouths back, giving you an apologetic and yet competitive smile.

After nodding your head at him with a ‘What the living Christ, dude?’ expression, you announce that you will be withdrawing from this ridiculous somewhat of a scam that the district offered to the teachers.

“Yeah, let me just slide out of this room. Settle this yourselves.” You purse your lip, before waving goodbye.

Jacob’s gaze transfers to Melissa’s who looks at him with threat as he gulps in an invisible lump in his throat, making his palms extra sweatier than usual.

---

Meanwhile, just as everyone left the library, Janine and Jacob huddled while walking to their classrooms; with Gregory following them from behind. “I knew it. Something did happen at PECSA.” Jacob says, looking behind him to see if Melissa was behind them or so. “You could say that I am a good guesser.”

“As intriguing as this is, we should just let them be.” Gregory interrupts, before getting laughter as a reply.

“And pass this opportunity for destined love to not intertwine?” Janine raises an eyebrow with a cheeky smile. “Not gonna happen.”

“I’m just thinking of those Basketball tickets.” He says in defense as the two agree.

While that conversation continued on to be about Philadelphia 76ers and board game night, Melissa and Barbara were having a little talk while also heading to their respective classrooms.

“Now how did Jacob know about it?” Melissa wondered with suspicion. She’s fine with people finding out, sure, but she’s thinking of your friendship with her and how some people can be a little extra nosy, which she isn’t a fan of.

“Well, you know Jacob and Janine. Almost always up for schemes and so on.” Barbara says before waving goodbye as she then arrives at her classroom.

Melissa thinks to herself quietly while beginning her class. She enjoyed each and every second with you that night. Intoxicated by alcohol or not, she likes listening to every word you say because it just keeps her ears up. She’s known you for only about a couple of months given that you were only a new teacher at Abbott.

You’ve melted her under your grasp, and though she may be older, you never once made her feel as though she is. You make her feel young and more alive, while at the same time keeping her on her toes. She likes that you reciprocate to her talking about firefighters and different Italian dishes, as well as her family. Melissa isn’t one to trust people too quickly, but she slowly found herself warming up to you.

This has been a constant thought in her head, as well as it’s yours. Just a constant loop. A game of tag. The type of unrequited love that’s obviously mutual love that everyone can see, but manages to not be for both you and Melissa.

---

After that small inconvenience, or say, exposing secrets in the library, you’re now behind your desk with your laptop in front of you while your class is writing an essay.

The laptop is opened just so you can occupy yourself with something. Just some numbers you’re crunching and a few tests that you’re checking up that you’ll return to your students soon.

Your thoughts then wander to that said PECSA weekend. Alcohol was involved, a bunch of Math-a-ritas later and you’re caught up making out with the hot redhead teacher who just so happens to be Melissa. No feelings were confessed that night, but surely those actions meant something. Hopefully. As you would think.

It remained in your head how it felt the way her hands lingered all over your body, the small groans, her lips against yours. It wasn’t a hookup or a one night stand that happened, as all of it was simply just kissing the whole night until who knows what time it was.

You brought it upon yourself to get drunk with Melissa and invite her to your room; it didn’t take her a second to say yes to you before feeling your back against the cold door with her hand trickling over to the door knob to lock it. She kissed you well, and touched you in places she left cold when she sneaked out the following morning.

‘Didn’t want suspicions to linger. Sorry.’  That was the message she sent when you woke up with your clothes disarray and your lipstick smudges, with her trailing on your neck.

That was about a month ago. Surely, some things changed over the course of a month. Exchanging text messages over those couple of weeks changed, you weren’t that close to each other anymore, and the constant ‘What are we?’ lingered in your mind for more than you want it to.

That night changed what you and Melissa had. For the worse or for the better? You didn’t know.

You sigh in your chair, waiting for the bell to ring as this calls for your next lesson, Music. This one is with Janine’s class.

“Deep in thought, Miss?” Amanda asks. She’s one of the students sitting near your desk. Not with worried intent, but with curiosity.

“Go back to your essay, kid.” You look at her as if denying something in mind.

“Ok, Mrs. Schemmenti.” She blurts out before everyone in the room echoed with ‘Oooh.’s Amanda laughs at your embarrassed demeanor before she apologizes that that might have ended up being a little too personal.

As it turns out word got out about Jacob mentioning PECSA weekend, and not only that, but it was heard by one of the students from Jacob and Gregory’s podcast club, This Abbott Life.

---

Music class went by like a quick second as it was just a little jamming session with the second graders from Janine’s class.

It’s the end of morning class which means that lunch is on its arrival. Lunch which meant that you have to face Melissa after what seemed like only a small incident that happened a while ago. And so upon pondering over what to do or where to go just to avoid an upcoming awkward situation, you exit the music room after dismissing the class and decide to go to your own classroom upstairs to eat lunch.

Walking from down the stairs was Jacob who saw you then gulped from nervousness with the awareness of what he did, but surprisingly, you didn’t notice it. Although behind you exiting a classroom was someone Jacob was a little more terrified of. Melissa. She then catches his eyes, making him rush towards the teachers’ lounge.

As you sit quietly in your classroom, on your desk is the lunch you brought and a book you’ve been reading lately. A couple moments pass and you’re indulged in the story you’re reading. It’s a nice book you’ve been wanting to read in a while, something Melissa recommended to you some time ago. You do miss the closeness you two had before PECSA.

Well, most people say that what happens in PECSA stays in PECSA, but in your case, it probably isn’t.

“I see you’re finally reading it.” Her familiar voice dances in between the words printed in the book, which catches your attention. She greets you with a smile.

“Oh! Hello, Melissa.” You greet with half a smile, inserting the bookmark into the book and carefully closing it so as for it not to crease, before welcoming her to come inside.

“How’s it so far?” Melissa leans on one of the windowsills. She seemed really intrigued as to what your thoughts were, but that wasn’t exactly the reason why she came up here to you.

“It’s so far so good.” You fidget with the printed cover of it. “It’s a very intriguing book with well written characters.”

Melissa grabs one of the chairs and places it beside you, ready to listen to your thoughts on the book, but instead, she was met by the silence of obvious thoughts that lingered through your mind.

“Are you alright, hon?” She worries.

You feel as though this is the perfect opportunity to talk about it after acting as though you were cool about it, about everything that happened. That nothing worried and haunted you.

“We should talk about, you know.” You say it as straightforward. “While we have time for lunch.”

“What about it?” She asks, her voice as gentle as the way she held you that night.

Your fingers begin to fiddle with each other out of habit. “Were there some feelings involved?” You went in straight to the flame. “Did you kiss me because I wanted to kiss you, or did you kiss me because you wanted to kiss me?”

“What do you think happened that night?” A question with curiosity that overflowed.

“Well, we got drunk, went to my room, started making out, then the next morning, you left.” Instead of receiving a proper response, you instead get a chuckle out of her. “What’s funny?”

In between soft chuckling, she says, “You’re missing a few details, sweetheart.”

“Is that so?” You ask anxiously before feeling her hand take yours, circling her thumb on your palm.

“You know, when we got on your bed you suddenly ran away.” She recalls. “You ran away to the bathroom and all I heard was vomit and gagging.”

You felt shivers behind your back, feeling embarrassed over something so blurry in your mind and barely there.

“After that, you just kept on crying.” Her gaze softens as she catches your eyes. “You were scared that me hearing you vomiting over the toilet made you lose your chances with me and so you didn’t want to kiss me again.” She purses and licks her lips. “You said stuff about how you feel as though I deserve someone better.”

“I would have helped you clean up, but you refused and just left me hanging there for a good half an hour.” Melissa placed her glasses on top of her head. “We ended up just hugging each other the whole night. I was gonna say something but you fell asleep.”

“You can say it to me now.”  You smile a little.

With hesitance, Melissa starts talking. “Look, I wanted to tell you the next day, but you know, I’m not the best at opening up.” Your hand creeps up onto the side of her neck as she takes this and places it on her cheek. “I have feelings for you too. I like you, and there isn’t a day where your chances of having me lessen.”

A smile of relief grows on your face, laughing out of embarrassment with Melissa soon following your laughter. “God, we are so naive.” You say, rolling your eyes playfully out of the ridiculousness of the situation.

You pull your chair closer to hers, getting a little closer to her. Your eyes trail to her lips and she notices this, letting go of your hand and holding your face to meet her lips with yours. The kiss felt more passionate, with the taste of morning coffee surprisingly still within her lips.

“We shouldn’t be doing this on school grounds.” You whisper in between kisses that Melissa continued to give you.

And so midway she stops. “Are you telling me that I should bring you home?” She looks at you with intent and need.

“Friday.”

[cuntressgoingdigital]

i am here with some abby x depressed! reader content

once again, entirely self indulgent. i am in the biggest rut rn, but this was kinda cathartic. i cried while writing it actually.

free palestine! click this link for more info + dono links

abby’s a lot softer and empathetic than people give her credit for, especially with you. she can always tell when you’re having a rough day. she knows to only ask what’s bothering you once, knowing that sometimes you didn’t have the words to explain yourself. sometimes you didn’t even know. she would always ask

“do you want company or alone time?” 

today was one of those days. you couldn’t get out of bed, cocooned in all the blankets on the bed. you knew isaac would have your head if you shirked your assignment for the day. not even that could inspire you to move from your spot on the stiff uncomfortable mattress. when abby came to check on you at sunrise and caught you still in bed, she immediately jumped into caretaker mode. 

she sat at the foot of your bed and rubbed the outline of your thigh through the layers of blankets. 

“you okay? feeling sick?”

you shook your head, feeling too embarrassed to make eye contact. you couldn’t fathom how abby got up every day to suffer through patrol, run isaac’s errands, and still have the energy to hangout with her friends at the end of the day. just getting out of bed every day was an arduous task for you. isaac preached about family values and insisted that everyone had an important role on base, no matter how big or small. it felt like you were failing everyone. 

even worse, you felt like a burden on abby. you never got on quite well with her friends, feeling extremely out of place every time you all got together. some days you could push through the feeling, but these past couple days it has been entirely out of the question. you felt awful tearing her away from them to tend to you on top of everything else she was tasked with. 

“what assignment did you get today? my to-do list is pretty light, so i can get it done if you need me to.” 

abby always insisted you were allowed to ask for her help, but it made the weight on your chest even heavier. 

“just inventory in the armory. it has to be done before lunch.” with a stifled sigh, you sat upright in your bed. “i can probably–”

“don’t worry about it. i’ve got it.”

finally, you gathered the courage to look her in the eyes. her eyes never held the look of pity others gave you. the sweet smile on her face made tears well in your eyes. before you could stop them a few tears fell. using the back of your sleeve you hurried to wipe your face. a few soft apologies fell from your lips before abby reached out and took your hand, giving it a squeeze. 

“i promise, it’s fine. i wouldn’t offer if i didn’t want to. let me do this for you.”

it felt like she could read your mind. she understood you even when you struggled to parse through your feelings and form a coherent sentence.

 you sniffled and nodded. “thank you. for everything.” 

she cradled you in her arms and let you sob for a few minutes in complete silence. her hand gently rubbed your back while the sobs racked through your body. when you finally calmed down she pressed a kiss on the top of your head. 

“i love you. more than anything in the world.” those whispered words almost inspired more tears.

“i love you, too. i love you more, actually.”

she snickered. “not possible.”

abby stood and stretched, the wet patch of tears along the neck and shoulder of her shirt clung to her skin. “i’ll bring you back something from the cafeteria. i think it’s oatmeal and granola day.”

she gave you one last kiss before turning on her heel and leaving your room.