#it may not have been a ton of writing but it was nice

[dduane]

I read a lot to my mum (mostly fanfic, but also novels), since we birth enjoy it. And our current pick is Spock‘s World (which I already read SO OFTEN, because I love it), and we are having a ton of fun. Still at the very beginning, but the details about how Starfleet works here, the tech, the politics… Damn, it’s great. And just - the Vulcan chapters??? They live in my head rent free.

Usually I only get to leave comments like this with fanfic, but I remembered your tumblr, so - thank you very much from me AND my mother, we are having a great time with your work

You're very kind! Thank you. I'm glad the both of you are enjoying my stuff!

...Not least because I've frankly got a soft spot for that book, despite it causing me a lot of trouble. ...Though possibly also because it caused me a lot of trouble. I'm assuming you may have heard the story (full version here: tl:dr version follows) about how, while I was (I thought!) finishing it up a couple of weeks before its turn-in date, lightning struck a transformer in our little housing estate. The resultant voltage surge fried my computer and all the document backups then in its drive(s). I wound up having to rewrite about half of that book from memory—because there were no printouts of most of that material—and then write from scratch, and polish, the remaining 20K or so needed to complete the book. All in two weeks. (Because the pre-pub publicity for the book was in place, and the pub date was set in stone, with no wiggle room.)

So I got the book in under the wire... but my back's never been quite right since then. Sure, when the book came out it spent eight weeks on the NYT list... but the moral of our story remains: Never speed-rewrite a novel in a straight-backed chair. 😏 [ow, ow, ow, ow...]

Meanwhile, those Vulcan chapters: Those are probably my favorite parts too. It made my heart bleed when, due to length/timing issues, I had no choice but to exclude all of them for the audiobook.* However, at least I got to hear Leonard Nimoy reading the dialogue I wrote for him—and George Takei reading everything else. If somebody had traveled back in time and told sixteen-year-old me, then descending into full-on Trek fannishness, that some day Spock himself (and Mr. Sulu) would say things I told him to... I'd have passed out cold in amazement. Or dismissed it as delusion. (smh) What a world we live in.

Anyway: thanks for the nice words! And do enjoy the book. :)

*It does a bit more bleeding when I consider that had that production been happening now, the extra length wouldn't be considered an issue. But audiobooks were just getting started then, and no one wanted to spend more on them than necessary. (shrug) Just one of those things...

[moonlit-tia]

I'm genuinely surprised by how little dawnbreaker content there is

[pushingdaisies1]

Kinda hate you, kinda love you . . . ♡

(✧ ˚.) PAIRING-> James "Logan" Howlett {A.K.A} Wolverine x Reader >_< (✧ ˚.) SUMMARY -> Being an X-men was a lot for you to sign up for. Well.. you didn't have a chance to deny this safe haven. The school became your home and the people that made up the X-men like a weird little familial unit. You had many reasons for staying as long as you did, but one was more prickly and jaded. The feelings you harbored for a stern and calloused Logan were.. weird for you to feel firsthand. One day, you are stuck overlooking a danger room drill between Gambit and Logan. With the new member of your world-saving team Jubilee by your side, it's too dull to NOT talk with each other. She was a good kid, hyperactive and spirited that's for sure. You talk, and talk a lot you do to the human embodiment of the fourth of July. It makes you think a little bit too hard about yours and Logans... predicament. (✧ ˚.) AUTHORS NOTE -> Hiii!!! This is my first time writing stuff for Logan so - bee tee dubs it may be complete and utter horse shit. I'd like to thank @velvrei for helping me ignite some well-dead thoughts. Genuinely love ur work sm and reading that and a lot more new/old logan content helped TONS. This is linked to the {♡x-men animated series/x-men97♡} series. I do wanna write more for the Deadpool timeline xmen/early 2000s timeline xmen!! But after seeing the masterpiece that is Deadpool and Wolverine, I lowkey just clung to those shows. I love animated Logan!! He is even more emotionally stunted/sassy sad!! (✧ ˚.) CWS (?) -> Logan nd u are sad ppl who don't know how to voice ur feelings!! , pining from afar/one-sided not so one-sided yearning, UHM HURT/KINDA COMFORT??? MAYBE??? I THINK??? , unprompted suggestiveness from logan , mentions of struggling to connect with other ppl/fears of the future (bay bay jubilee my love) , u and Jubilee just kinda bond, off topic idk cajun dialect so..... , and u infodump as a weird suto older sister/mom in her life, this was all very spur of the moment so uhm - not proofread!!! kinda!!!!!!!

The dangeroom was a room a lot of the X-men team spent their time in. To either train for a new threat or for general movement, drills were a common theme. Especially after world-shaking events, which were always somehow a constant, the professor was the equivalent of an alarm clock. Drills this, always having to run down into the war room. You didn't mind the training sessions if it was one-on-one or even with the whole team. Sometimes though, it was almost nagging. 

Though there were little things you'd do to pass this time. If you were made to overlook it or otherwise. Most of the time there didn't need to be supervision within the training center itself. Everyone was on high alert, and off days were few and far between. Logan had been hashing it out with Gambit all morning and wanted to do a specific procedure setting. You held your head in your hands as you sighed at the grown men's demands. Gambit was a professional sweet talker, Logan wasn't when needed. Of course, you complied, understanding the sudden want for more extensive training. When Jubilee volunteered you started to not loathe the idea of sitting in on Logan and Gambit - literally butting heads. 

Jubilee was a nice kid, you felt bad for her sudden entrance into life within the school. The professor was welcoming as always. With your push and her foster parents wanting her to be safe from threats like the sentinels, she was a bonified member.

Being the "newbie" always had its drawbacks. From day one you made sure to have her back, you could relate to her whole fish-out-of-water point of view. Logan saw the way you attached fast to the kid. He was like a vault of thoughts and feelings. Thoughts and feelings he never wanted to bring up or even let alone talk about. But it made your heart flutter just a tad when he sat his hand on your shoulder, gently rubbing a thumb against it.

He had stopped you before you were about to retire to your room. In the doorway to your personal, pillow escape he made sure to reel you down to earth. "Give the kid some breathing room. I know you want to help but there's no use for you smothering her."

You were almost baffled. What was he going on about? You were just looking out for her? Deep down, you did know what he meant. He might have not been a long-term X-Men member. But he did know you and the fragments of "memories" you held so dearly close to your chest. You two were so different and yet one in the same. Before you could even argue, he gave you a small .. somewhat comforting pat on said shoulder. "Just a friendly word of advice bub, don't take it so close to heart. Oh wait, that's inevitable." He joked at you with his signature toothy grin. You couldn't help but scoff in surprise and laughter as he jabbed at you with his SINGULAR witty remark.

Logan could be many things. Rough around the edges, even a total asshole when he felt like it. But to you, he was your kryptonite. It was pathetic the way you'd always eventually be pulled to bend at that man's every word. He just did that to you, and you had no answer to it. 

Making your way up to the upper room with Jubilee, you watched with tired eyes as the door to the observation room slid open. Cold - walls and floor head to toe with this sleek metal texture. There were two chairs, right behind the control panel where the training sequence(s) would be initiated. Your eyes were trained on the window as you watched Gambit and Logan make their entrance inside the training room itself. Gambit of course was rapidly shuffling a deck of cards. They were almost flying in the palms of his hands as he prepared them. Logan was of course blabbing his big mouth, in his signature suit "lumbering up" as he would call it. Finally, as you just now sat your bottom into the smooth-cushioned observation chairs, Jubilee was already starting the conversation. Thank god for you as you were still shaking the morning off of you."So what? , we just watch them throw around with each other, or what?" She cracked with a curious glance at the two men down below. You rested your chin in the palm of your hand as you leaned back. "Pretty much, we're here just in case the system doesn't shut down in time. Sometimes it does that."

She paused before she gave you a pointed look, her chunky pink sunglasses almost falling off of her black head of hair. "We're babysitting them!?" She retorted with a sort of faux annoyance. "I mean it's 'something' to do but - come on...." She groaned as she crossed her arms, heavy in on the air quotations. Cutting in, you directed your hand to the control panel. "No no no, not just that.”

Gathering your thoughts, you pointed out each scenario on the deck. You couldn't help but crack a smile at Jubilee's small "ohs" and "ah's". With the development, you two were brought into a nice steady stream of conversation. Hunched in her seat, yellow boots crinkling in this position, she poked and prodded you about your style and so on. it was nice to be looked at with such idealization. Her eyes were huge with wonder as she jumped to questions and searched for answers. Though it was only so nice until the two of you were interrupted by the impact of a card deck. As it smacked against the window, you pinched the bridge of your nose.

Hitting the intercom, you cleared your throat. "So sorry gentlemen! You two ready or what?" You retorted as you leaned over the panel. Gambit gathered back the cards into his hands. "Me? , 'course cher! Any day I would love to stick it to da fuzz ball over der." He remarked with a scheming smirk. Logan growled as his claws immediately sprouted from his knuckles. "I'll show you fuzz ball you pest." His lip curled up almost like a predator ready to pounce.

Jubilee sat back quiet as a mouse as she watched you talk through to the two. "Alrighty alright! Save the pouncing for later." You barked with a small chuckle at the end. You couldn't help but feel buzzy at the way Logan reared his head up. Gambit was too busy swapping cards from hand to hand. But all of Logan's attention was just on you, it was always just on you.

 "Okay, how are we feeling about the ruined city for today?" You asked the two as Gambit started to twirl a card in between his middle and pointer fingers. "Yes yes yes, dat will do just nicely, right Wolvie?" He asserted - training a hard on the hard-headed "foe." Logan's voice was low and gruff as he found his stance. "Don't get so ahead of yourself Gamby." He retorted as he turned back to you in the window. "Start it up doll, before this one here loses all of his spice." He barked with a laugh as Logan jostled his mask on. You rolled your eyes with a faint smile. "If you say so, bee-tee-dubs .. don't kill each other! Please and thank you." You affirmed as the array of buttons were clicked. As the scenery shifted into a torn-down cityscape, foes were already on the two men. The only fun thing about watching over the training sessions was getting to watch fellow X-Men in action. Just not with the risk of losing your life in the process. Leaning back into your chair, you took in a nice breath of air. Peace, for now at least. Jubilee sat up more straight, letting her bright yellow duster-like jacket collect at the sides of her chair. She brought her legs to her chest as both you and she watched Gambit and Logans fighting. You could feel her eyes wander to you in the quiet. You looked directly towards her, a sympathetic smile gracing your face. "How are you feeling?" Your voice was small but warm, comforting almost. This was the first time someone had even really asked her. "I don't know... it's like everything is just changing at once. I feel like a big Rubix cube." She said with a frown as she got more comfortable where she sat. You nodded your head in almost remembrance. "Trust me, becoming an X-men isn't the hardest part. It's living like one." Admitting with a soft sort of comfort, Jubilee was already warmer than before. The training session flew by as you two just talked and talked. She lamented about what life would be like now, what she would and wouldn't miss. How she was stripped of living like a normal teenager. "I mean everyone here has already been so nice to me, but this is just gonna take a lot of getting used to. ", she would lament to you in honesty. You tried to be as insightful as possible. Telling her that living as an X-men will always be tricky. But there will always be the people around here that'll keep you steady. Her ears perked up when you listed off your so-called "anchors." She immediately butted in after you listed off the Wolverine himself, Logan. "That guy? You two seem to be always at each other's throats?" She cracked at you with an inquisitive grin. "Well I mean yeah - he can be .. overly confident a lot of the time." You were almost reminding yourself. You didn't realize how long you spent talking about your scruffy metal-clawed 'friend.' You went on and on about how he combated with you in the best possible ways. How with his time in the X-Men, he opened up your worldview in many instances. He did so much to you and for you. He was almost like your escape in a way, and he maybe shared the same view. You didn't get into the nitty-gritty details of it, 'cause ew. But the moments away from daily life hecticness within the school you and he shared were your favorite. His arms were the sweetest embrace anyone could ask for. But that's what friends do, that's what friends are for.

 Though you always wondered if maybe you were wrong. Maybe you were holding on to nothing. Maybe there was an intimate connection between you two hiding under the surface. But you had a track record of getting your hopes up. You dashed those daydreams away as Jubilee yanked you back down into the now of things. Time flew by as the training sequence ended. Logan was immediately gloating his way out of the danger room. You and Jubilee met the two halfway. Gambit sang your high praises as he lamented about kicking Logan's ass in the drill. As the two grown men bickered Jubilee made her exit known. Since the professor was already summoning them all to the war room. Gambit waved you off with a small wink and another grand shuffle of his cards. Which just left you and logan ... fun. 

He quirked his brow in your direction as he realized your quiet demeanor. “Can you believe the guy? - come on bub you saw me!” He said in astonishment at Gambit's gambit tendencies. You crinkled your nose in a small giggle. If you were seeing straight, you couldn’t help but notice a small dash of a smile on Logan's face once he saw your mood brighten. His smile always found ways to make your knees weak and arms all jelly. “Yeah yeah, dont get your panties in a twist Lo.” You said with a twinkle in your eye. A grin followed spreading almost ear to ear.

His eyes softened ever so slightly with your jokes. He grumbled out his poorest joke yet. “Oh, I’ll show you.” He retorted before yanking you into him. Your back met his chest plate as you felt his collection of sweat. His muscled arms wrapped around your midsection as he whirled you around like a windmill. You ignited with laughter and “yucks” as you felt his sweat spreading onto you. You fought out his hold with a grimace and a sheepish chuckle, wiping your eye. “Christ man, you got all your .. muck on me!”

By now his claws were already dashed away. So his hands were now placed on his hips. He rolled his eyes as he looked you up and down. “Come on, you’ll live to see another day shrimpy.” He claimed with his eyes slowly wandering. “I look like a wet dog thanks to you.” You frowned jokingly, shaking your arms out. “On and on with you.” He remarked once again with his eyes rolling AGAIN soon after.

Closer and closer the two of you got as you both threw phony insults back and forth. Before your lips were inches away from one another. He drawled his quick mouth up and spat back something that would leave your mind in utter… shock. Was confusion the right word?  “Don’t play around with me, dimples. I know you’d like more than just my arms around you.” You quickly gasped out the pocket of air you were holding onto. A long pause was felt throughout the hall before you two darted in separate ways.

“I need to change!” You sheepishly shouted as you headed in the opposite direction of him. He did the same, mumbling whatever under his breath. “Don’t slip and fall!” He coughed out as you rubbed your face in annoyance. “Eat shit, Logan!” , “That’ll be a long time coming!” The both of you remarked to the other in unison. Both of your voices share the same sort of flustered frustration. You raced into the showers as you soon stumbled towards the sinks.

You splashed your face with cold water as your heart was still racing. Your cheeks were burning up let alone from his words. But you were soon able to catch up with your breath. Regaining your composure you looked yourself in the mirror. Gritting your teeth as you looked at the fool Logan made you. The Wolverine could be a hard-headed buffoon. Always on his way to making a snide insult with whichever X-men member was disagreeing with him. But god damn it was he your poison. You hated him and he hated you. That was the thing that kept you steady as you changed into uniform and raced towards the ongoing meeting. You knew that same smile still lingered on your face once you made your entrance into the war room. Able to brush off the team's sudden accusations as you made sure to remind everyone about the issue at hand. The Professor thanked you as he went back to discussing what new threats plagued human life. Your eyes always made their way back to Logans with small lingers. Making eye contact with you, his eye-line was diverted by you as you turned your attention back to the professor. The Wolverine was a fool, and he had already found purchase in your foolish heart. 

ꔫ✉ reblogs/interaction is appreciated <3 part two - ⭐️

[bunny-jpeg]

Hi Bunny!! This is kind of a big order…May I please have an earl grey + Margarita + cranberry juice + mocha coffee + sticky toffee pudding + Belgian waffles served by Mark Webber?

P.S Your writing is just BRILLIANT

bakery menu

want to have your own order? then hit up the menu! there are tons of items to choose from and i love doing these! so thank you for those who ordered, and i hope you love this! (i've never written mark webber before, but i do have more requests in my inbox that i might take a look at ;))

belgian waffles: "i cum in that every night." + sticky toffee pudding: "the only way this is ending is you getting pregnant." + earl grey: big cock + margarita: unprotected sex + cranberry juice: mean!character + mocha coffee: breeding kink served by mark webber (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, age gap (20/29), rookie driver!reader, mean!mark (but he has the capacity to be nice), breeding kink, set in '05/'06, unprotected sex

2005

a twenty-nine year old mark webber had just met his wife, the rookie, almost ten years his junior. that was what you'd be known to mark as for the rest of your days. the rookie, his rookie.

it started a small affair, you weren't too sure how mark got under your skin so perfectly. maybe it was because a lot of these drivers were so chauvinistic, patronizing to the point where it made you seem like you were so much smaller. mark wasn't soft with you. and that extended both on and off the track.

"i can't believe you said that to both kimi and michael!" you snapped when mark got into your hotel room. his arms around you. that was what thing he liked about you. he couldn't very well pick up other drivers the way he could with you.

"what i said wasn't that bad, beautiful." he groped your ass through your jeans, "you're being so sensitive."

"i cum in that every night." you shot back, "why don't i wear a big stamp across my ass that says "webber's slut!"

he perked up a little bit, "will you."

you fisted the front of his shoulder and made a face at him, "of course i won't!" then pressed his forehead against yours, "i can't believe you did that." then pulled away, "you shouldn't have even come over."

"well if i didn't how could i cum in you?" he questioned as he got closer, "don't be so mad, beautiful. you don't look good when you're frowning." he beamed at you, "plus. it could've been so much worse. i could've said, the only way this is ending is you getting pregnant."

you made a face, "don't joke about that." then watched mark grab your wrist. there was a pull to him that allowed him further into your hotel room and onto the bed.

his hands pushed up your tank top, "feelin' good as always." he chuckled as his lips touched your pulse as he got you onto your back. soon he got your jeans off, followed by everything else you wore. and you pulled at his t-shirt off his back.

"you are a menace."

"ah, but you love me." he smirked, "you love when i come into your hotel room and make a mess of your pussy. i know the accent gets to you, i know you think about me all day."

"hard not to when you're ego fills up entire rooms." you raked your nails down his back and he groaned a little before he pulled you into a heated kiss. you melted a little bit. damn webber.

both naked on your hotel room while the city was alive outside. you raked your fingers through his shirt dark hair and the kisses continued. legs tangled up in one another, you felt a pull towards him. as you always did.

he rubbed his bare cock up against you and it wasn't until the kiss broke that he was able to get himself ready to fuck you properly. after all, you only deserved the best. he smirked, "you look better on your back than in a car." he got your legs up to his chest and managed to slip his cock into you.

the feeling left him with a small shudder, the sparks in his brain lit up when he got himself to the base. always took him so beautifully. he looked down at you as he held your hips. he pressed his cock up inside of you, he watched your expressions as he moved.

"fuck, webber."

"i got you, rookie. you like when i'm like this to you. those other drivers treat you like shit. but also like glass. oh, you can't hurt the girl. you can't get aggressive with her. but, i like being aggressive with you. how you bite back at me. you're not a docile puppy." but then as he sucked a mark onto your collarbone, "but then again, neither am i."

you moaned and arched your back. you clung onto the covers under your body. the cheap hotel sheets that mark was fucking you into. he curved over you and kissed you passionately. the kisses were vicious, rough in a way that left you squirming. his words were in your head.

"fuck, webber." your back arched as you felt the hear radiate through your body. and you swore you could feel mark's heartbeat, even though he wasn't chest to chest with you.

he continued to rut against you, his cock dragged across your more sensitive parts which made you moan a little louder. soon your nails dug into his shoulders, scratching across his strong back.

"i love how you say my name. maybe if you play your cards right it'll be your name one day." he continued to fuck you, he pushed into you as much as he could. he wanted to make sure that you felt it all. you may be the upcoming star on the track, but mark was more than happy to take you apart every night. make you feel better than any rush of the race.

maybe it was because he was painfully in love with you.

his pace quickened as he felt closer to orgasm. he could feel the thump of his heartbeat in the back of his mind as he felt the urge to climax weigh heavy on him. his mouth continued to run until you pulled him in closely and kissed him all over the mouth.

his lips were bright red by the time you were done with him. you clung to him tightly as you came first. your cunt tight around his cock as he continued to fuck you passionately. his pace became uneven as he yearned for his own climax, he could feel the rush of blood to his cock and the light-headed feeling as he kept fucking you.

"that's my rookie. all mine." he said with a hint of tenderness. not enough to inflate your ego. he gave it a few more thrusts of his hips before he kept all of himself inside of you. it felt good doing it bare, it also left you flustered. naughty girl.

"fuck, webber."

"keep saying that and you might get a ring soon." he teased as he pulled out, which made you groan.

you laid in each other's embrace. you allowed him to hold your hand the way lovers did. it was tender, it was nice. it was certainly not horrible. maybe to love mark webber wouldn't be horrible.

2006

"mark alan webber." you snarled as you threw the plastic pregnancy test at his head. the plastic hit him right in the forehead, "you son of a bitch!" you were shaking, you had tears in your eyes as you threw yourself at him.

but he caught you and held you to his chest. he kissed the top of your head, "no reason to that, beautiful." he swayed you a little from side to side, "we'll figure it out. you, me and baby." mark webber was a mean man, he easily bullied his little rookie.

"you ended my career. on purpose" you grumbled.

he rubbed your back, "yeah, it took me a year to get you pregnant to wipe out my only real competition. my second choice was fernando."

you looked up at him and swallowed back some of the sadness, "mark... shut up." and were met with kisses. you tried not to laugh, even with the sadness in your stomach.

mark hated to see you cry, at least in a context whe he wasn't bullying your poor cunt. it broke his heart. to see you in such a fragile state clicked something in his brain. he held onto you tightly while you cried. you two were terrors to each other, mostly mark towards you. but, you'd make this work. and mark, despite everything, would not make you do it alone. <3

[ljubimaya]

– A LITTLE DEATH

SYNOPSIS: Wounded after a gang fight, Baji finds comfort in you in more than one way.

C/W: aged up characters (Baji and reader are 20+ years old), mentions of death (no one dies, though), fem! reader, friends to lovers, confessions, mentions of wounds and bruises and the treatment of such, reader and Baji teasing each other, a little angst with tons of comfort, fingering, p in v, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex (keep it wrapped), soft sex, slow burn bc I yapped too much, pet names (pretty girl baby), lmk if I missed smth ♡

A/N: This took me seven months and three rewrites :,)) me writing soft sex with Kei is 100% self-indulgent and lowkey selfshipcoded btw

W/C: 9k+ words (I told you I yapped too hard, I'm sorry, it will happen again)

1 A.M. and you didn’t sleep. You weren't even tired, not after receiving the text from your best friend. 

“I’ll be at yours in a while” was all Baji sent you. You received his message when you were just getting ready for bed, after you took a nice hot shower and put on your freshly washed pajamas. All hopes of a peaceful, quiet night shattered the moment you opened the chat and read his text. 

That was at 10 P.M. the previous day. You’ve been sitting on your couch for three hours now and couldn’t get a grip on your idiotic best friend. Calls wouldn’t go through, messages would remain unanswered, and you didn’t even have the numbers of his other, equally idiotic friends so they could forward your message to Baji. Not that you would actually even reach out to them, despite being your friend’s friends, you were still deeply terrified of most of them. 

Worry took over at 11 P.M. when he didn’t show up like he promised he would and panicked, when you couldn’t even reach him by midnight, and once 1 A.M. rolled around, you found yourself trying to rationalize him not showing up. Maybe he’s asleep in his bed? Maybe he’s still out with his friends? Maybe he’s lying dead in a ditch?

Dread truly was the best alternative to caffeine, you couldn’t even think of going back to bed until you knew he was alive and breathing. 

So you sat on your couch, wrapped in your fuzzy blanket and sipping on your herbal tea to calm your nerves. The tea itself didn’t seem to help calm your anxiety at all, but you found that if you didn’t hold the warm cup, you'd reach out to grab your phone and start bombarding him with calls and texts. The little faith you had in him told you you would have enough time to give him an earful once he shows up. If he shows up…

A light knock brought you back to reality. You didn’t expect anyone except for Baji, so you felt safe to open the door. You didn’t know what it was, a logical conclusion that it could only be him, the hope you held in your heart that it was him, or an inner knowing. Whichever it may have been, you were right. 

Upon opening your front door, you were greeted with none other than the first division captain himself. Although alive and breathing, Baji looked exhausted. Cuts littered his handsome face, bloody knuckles clutched to his stomach, and his tired eyes told you everything you needed to know. He needed to get patched up. 

“Not asleep?” he asked in his deep raspy voice. His deep baritone usually makes you feel butterflies in your stomach, but hearing the tiredness out of his voice, you couldn’t bring yourself to swoon over him. At least not yet. 

A sigh escaped your lips as you answered “No. Couldn’t fall asleep when you texted me you’d come over. Although, I didn’t think I’d have to wait three hours” You laughed dryly. 

Baji frowned. He knew he arrived way later than he had promised you, and to his credit he would have arrived earlier if it were up to him. 

Usually, he would have been rough to anyone who gives him even the slightest bit of sass. He’d beat them back to their place and make sure they would choose their tone more carefully around him, but you weren’t just anyone to him. You know his temper, you have been victim to it on numerous occasions now, but he never dared to treat you like one of his underlings. Baji was never rough to you, tried avoiding becoming loud or calling you names except for the occasional “stupid”, “nerd”, or “brat”, which he knew wouldn’t offend you. 

“I know I said I’d arrive earlier, but you know how things are with the gang. One moment we’re having a normal meeting, the next we’re fighting some weak ass rival gang”

“You guys won?” you asked as you let the wild man enter your home. He grinned proudly as he settled down on your couch, still careful not to hurt himself further. 

“You know it. No gang can stand a chance against us” 

You rolled your eyes at him, chuckling as he boasted about his victory against the rival gang. 

“They had more members than Toman does” Baji grumbled as he watched you bring out the first aid kit “The nerve of them to attack us. No name gang, heard about them only once during another conflict with another rival gang”

“The one from last month?” You asked, taking out the bandages and alcohol wipes. This wasn’t the first time Baji had asked you to patch him up after a gang fight, it became a recurring thing when you befriended the hot headed gangster. You would always look forward to seeing him after a gang fight, it was almost therapeutic to take care of his wounds while he rambled about anything and everything. Given your busy schedules, both of you living completely different lives, and thus having a hard time making plans to meet up, him coming over after a gang fight felt more like catching up with him rather than a chore to you. 

“Yeah, those fucking bastards” Baji confirmed while he undid the buttons of his Toman uniform. Carefully, he took off the piece of clothing and put it right next to your first aid kit on the coffee table. You glared at him as he did that. 

“You did not just out your dirty shirt on my clean coffee table”

“Oh jeez, stop it. You sound like my mom” He teased, his hand soon grasping the article of clothing. “May I throw it on the floor, mom?” Baji taunted you as soon as he removed his shirt from your coffee table. Chuckling at his teasing, you retorted “Careful, or else I’ll ground you for a week. You can kiss your little gangster friends goodbye”

The ravenette groaned at your quick witted response “Thank God I’m a grown man. Thank God you’re not my mom” You took the shirt from his grasp, your fingers brushing against his rough ones for a short moment. 

“I can wash it for you. It looks really dirty, and I don’t want you to wear a dirty shirt when I’m done cleaning your wounds” 

Baji’s face softens when you suggest washing his shirt for him “You really don’t have to. I don’t mean to trouble you any more than I have to-”

“Nonsense” You cut him off as you stood up and started to walk towards your bathroom “I’ll throw it into the washing machine while I’ll take a look at your wounds. It’s not like I’m going to wash it with my hands”

Baji stared at you as you began to retreat from him “You want me to leave shirtless?”

“No. You can sleep over tonight” You hummed. While bold, you knew that you wouldn’t let him leave in the dead of the night, especially with his injuries. The prospect of Baji staying for the night makes your blood rush towards your cheeks. Trying to conceal your sudden shyness, you turned around from him, hoping he wouldn’t be able to tell just how flustered you were. 

No matter how late Baji would visit, he wouldn’t stay over too long. This would be a first if he agreed to sleep over. You were almost certain he would disagree with you, tell you not to worry too much about him, that he didn’t need to sleep over, but you were willing to fight him over it. 

Baji scoffed “You really don’t have to. I don’t want to inconvenience you more than I already am. You’ve stayed awake for so long to take care of my bruises, you really don’t have to wash my clothes now too, or let me stay over. Besides” He stopped for a moment, studying the way you’ve turned away from him “You got work. I’m not a child you have to take care off”

“I understand that you’re an adult and can do whatever you please” You mustered up all the courage to turn around and face him “Let me care for you. I don’t want you to get infections, and I sure as hell don’t want you to walk home alone in your state. I know you can handle getting punched or kicked or thrown, but”  I can’t handle it. You halted. Heart beating against your ribcage furiously, you felt the blood rush to your face. If I don’t calm down now, I’ll end up crying.

So you took a deep breath, trying to get a hold on your bubbling emotions “Just because you can doesn’t mean you should. You’re staying, and that’s final” Without letting him react, you walked off to your bathroom. 

You quickly returned with a big bowl filled with water once you’ve thrown his article of clothing into the washing machine. The walk back into the living room was filled with dread. Knowing how hot headed he can be, he should be pissed. He should be angry at you, he should tell you to back off and let him do whatever he wants. You were already mentally preparing yourself to argue and reason with him, but upon your return, you didn’t see a glaring, angry man. 

Baji sat silently on the couch, waiting for you to come back. No traces of anger graced his face, no clenching fists, he didn’t even talk when you approached him

You sat down next to him. Although the silence was awkward, it helped you focus on tending to his wounds. His naked torso was littered with small bruises. You were able to make out small cuts, but they were predominantly on his hands. No open wounds except his bloodied knuckles. Mentally taking notes on his physical condition, you made a treatment plan. Deciding his knuckles needed immediate attention, you carefully took his hand into yours. Baji let you take his hand without any sort of resistance, instead, he watched you clean the surrounding area of the wounds on his fingers and knuckles before carefully dabbing the alcohol infused cotton. Before, you rinsed his open wounds with cool water to get out any rubble that could be inside. A low hiss escaped Baji’s lips once you lightly pressed the in alcohol soaked cotton. Usually, he’d tell you to be more careful, but this time he doesn’t say a word. 

“I know it hurts” you muttered in an apologetic tone as you carefully dab the cotton on the wound, trying to get him to talk to you “I’ll try to be more careful”

Moments passed and he still didn’t make attempts to reply back. You continued cleaning his and dressing his knuckles and hands; and while it felt like an eternity without hearing Baji’s deep voice rambling about the gang or his personal life, you were finished tending to his hands much faster than it usually took you. 

One look at the bruises on his torso, and you knew they needed to be cooled, especially the big and dark bruise on his stomach. Suddenly, you remembered the way Baji was clutching his stomach. 

“What happened here?” You asked him, your fingers lightly grazing his rock hard abs absentmindedly. Baji groaned and gritted his teeth as you touched the bruise. Quickly realizing that he was in pain, you retreated your fingers from the hurting area. Mentally cursing at yourself for being so careless, you opened your mouth to utter an apology, but Baji was quicker. 

“Got hit by a metal pipe” Baji told you, a scowl adorning his face as he sat up straighter “That bastard swung at me out of nowhere. Didn’t even see him coming, was too busy punching some other fuckers”

“I’m so sorry”

Baji snorted at your apology as he finally looked at you, his eyes locking with yours for the first time since you demanded he stayed over. “‘s nothing you have to apologize for. You weren’t there, hell, I wouldn’t want you to be at a gang fight” He grinned teasingly at you, the awkward silence from before having completely vanished “The streets aren’t for you”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at him and laugh “What? Are you calling me soft or something?”

“Maybe. Won’t call you tough either” He chuckled as he watched you reach over to grab the cotton again. 

“Lift up your head. I still need to disinfect the small scratches on your face, Mister Tough” You hummed as you took his face into your hands, taking a better look at the small cuts that littered his face. However, your attention slipped into other directions as you kept on looking at him. Suddenly, you weren’t looking at his small wounds, but rather, you were looking at his plump lips. Then his pointy nose, his bushy eyebrows, and soon, your gaze fell upon his eyes. 

Earthy brown irises looked back into yours, and you swore you saw them glint in the low light of your living room. You felt weak, your heart fluttering as you couldn’t bring yourself to look away. He has drawn you in with one single look of his eyes, and you swore you would drown in them like they were quicksand. Or maybe you would burn in the molten bronze of his eyes? Whatever it may be, all power left your body as soon as your eyes locked with his. You had no energy to look away; you had no energy and you certainly didn’t have the desire to. 

“That's not cleaning my wounds” a wolfish grin appeared on his lips, obviously amused by the sight of you flinching and tensing up when he caught you staring at him for far too long. 

Blood rushed to your face, you felt so embarrassed and humiliated at his teasing smirks. Oh that bastard…

“Well, I can't clean them when I haven't assessed them properly” you shot back, proud of your quick-witted response. Still, you couldn’t help but look away, the fluttering feeling inside your stomach growing more intense the longer his gaze remained on your form. Your face is turned away from him, your eyes averted to the floor when you felt his half bandaged hands reach towards your face, cupping it in a warm embrace. 

The teasing smirk having disappeared, Baji’s face has softened. His thumb lightly grazed your cheek when he turned you to face him, and just like that you locked eyes with him again. 

“Hey” he whispered in a tender tone, still stroking your cheek with his thumb “You ok?”

You leaned into his touch instinctively, eyes closing as you welcomed his warmth, basking in the comfort it provides. 

“I’m not the one that got hurt” you muttered “I am however incredibly…..” you took a deep breath as your voice falters. You felt the urge to double down on your words and tell him that everything was fine and that you were just overreacting and tired, but you couldn’t bear holding your tongue anymore. 

“I am incredibly worried about you”

Just like that, Pandora’s Box opened. The unsettling feeling you had right before he arrived returned and despite his warm hands holding your face, his face appeared to you so much paler than he usually was. 

Baji raised his eyebrow at your concerns, his thumb still caressing your cheek while he remained silent. You took his silence as a go ahead to explain your worry for him. 

“I know you are a grown man, and that you can do whatever you want. I can’t force you to do anything, and you know that you would never ask you to change anything about yourself” The words tumbled out of your mouth. Your heart pounded against your ribcage furiously, cold sweat coated your body and you felt your vision blurred. Yet, no tears rolled down your cheeks, you held them back as much as you could. There was no way you would break down in front of him like that. So you mustered up all the strength you had to calm your breathing before you continued.

“But I worry. I worry that there will be a day in which I’ll have to wake up to find out you’re lying in the hospital. I worry that one day I’ll wake up to find out you’re missing. And worst of all, I fear the day that you won’t return to me after a fight” 

You didn’t even finish talking and tears were already rolling down your face. Despite initially not wanting to cry in front of him, you felt as if a burden was being lifted from you. Baji listened silently to your distraught ramble. His hands never left your face, holding it so delicately as if you would crumble into pieces if he let go. 

“Promise me, Keisuke. Promise me that I won’t have to wake up in cold sweat from nightmares about losing you. Promise me I won’t have to stay awake all night long and wonder about your safety. Promise me you’ll always find your way back to me”

A shaky breath left your lips; you stared deeply into his eyes as you pleaded with him. You couldn’t take your gaze away from him, your eyes bored deeply into his, silently seeking for an answer to your emotionally charged demands. 

Finally, Baji broke his silence. 

“You know I can’t promise you any of that” He muttered. Baji firmly held your eye contact while his hands slowly retreated from your face “I can’t make such promises to you when I know just how unpredictable gang fights are” 

This wasn’t what you were expecting, nor the answer you wanted to hear from him. Your heart squeezed at his honest answer and his sudden retreat. Crushed, you too made an effort to distance yourself from him, but when you were about to stand up and excuse yourself, you felt his hands on yours. The ravenette guided your hands towards his face, making you hold his face. 

“I didn't know you were so worried about me. I never meant to inconvenience you in any way-”

“That's not what I'm complaining about!” You snapped back at him, not believing what you were hearing from him. 

“You're not inconveniencing me in any way. I look forward to seeing you. I wanna hear you ramble about your tights, your gang members, your colleagues - anything, really. I just hate seeing you hurt” 

Baji looked deeply into your eyes, and for a second you thought you would get swept up by his beautiful brown irises until you heard his usually gruff voice speaking to you in an unusually soft tone. A tone only reserved for you.

“Hey, look at me. I know it might sound harsh, but you gotta understand that I’m not making any promises to you that I know I won’t be able to keep. I wish I was able to say it with my full chest and promise that nothing will happen to me, but that’s not how life works” 

His reasoning seemed plausible, and yet, your heart sank as Baji tried to reason with you. Something inside you yearned for more, you needed to hear something from him, or else you knew you would never be able to sleep peacefully at night. 

“Keisuke” you whispered tenderly as you held his face gently, his hands still pressing against the back of your hands, keeping them in place. It was a firm grip, a grip that told you that he wanted to be held, and yet nothing about his touch seemed rough and forceful.

“I understand what you’re trying to tell me. I understand that some things are out of your reach, but this does nothing to calm my racing thoughts. I won’t be able to think of anything else but your safety when I know you’re out there. I know it sounds selfish of me to demand it, but for the sake of my own sanity, I need some reassurance of you” 

Baji's eyes never left your while you spoke. His eyebrow furrowed as his mind worked out a reasonable enough deal for you, a promise that would give you a peace of mind and that he would be able to fulfill. Eventually, his grip on your hands loosened. While no longer pressed against his own face, he held your hands tenderly. 

“I get that, I really do. While I can’t promise you that I will stay safe all the time, I can promise you that I will be more careful. I can promise you to be more mindful of my surroundings and I can promise you that I won’t run head first into fights” 

This seemed to be all the reassurance that you needed from him. A soft smile graced your face as you heard his proposal as relief washed over you. It may have not been what you wanted to hear, but it surely was better than no promise from him at all. 

“I’ll take it” a breathless whisper escaped through your lips. Baji broke his gaze from yours, only for his eyes to land on your hands holding his. You followed suit and looked at your intertwined fingers. You haven’t even realized that your fingers have laced with his. Was it when he made his promise to you to be more careful, or did you intertwine your fingers with his absentmindedly when you accepted the promise? Perhaps, it was him who took initiative and laced his fingers with yours?

Blood rushed to your cheeks when Baji gave your interlocked hand a gentle squeeze. 

“You should be careful” You muttered “Don’t move your fingers too much, they’re still wounded”

“I know, but I couldn’t resist” Baji grinned as you shyly averted your gaze from him, trying to pay no mind to his teasing.

“But I will be much more careful from now on. Gotta at least try and stay alive if someone cares about me that much” He mused, his deep honeyed voice making you feel butterflies in your stomach. Usually, you would try and hide the way he made you feel. You’d grin back at him and tease him back. On a different day, you would have told him off, but after the rollercoaster of emotions you have gone through, you didn’t want to bite back at him. 

“Yeah, you better” huffing, you carefully disentangled your fingers from his “I do care for you. Immensely, actually” You added in a quiet, soft tone before reaching to grab the antiseptic ointment. 

“Careful, this might burn a bit”

Baji’s smirk has softened. Intently, he watched your face as you worked to disinfect his wounds. A low hum escaped his lips as your skillful fingers ghosted over his face applying the antiseptic ointment. While he felt a slight burning sensation, Baji enjoyed the tender touches. 

“I know you care. You care so much you even ordered me to stay over and washed my shirt” 

Heat rose to your cheeks upon hearing Baji’s teasing remark. You were hoping he wouldn’t bring it back up, but one glance to Baji’s eyes, free of resentment and bitterness, told you that he wasn’t trying to make you feel uncomfortable. Yet, you remained silent, not knowing what to reply back, or rather, too embarrassed to say anything back to the ravenette. 

“I know I’m an ass sometimes. I’m impulsive, loud; I have a sharp tongue and I like weaponizing it, but I can’t even begin to explain how grateful I am that you care for someone like me” 

“Yeah” You chuckled while carefully cleaning a wound on his cheek, your heart skipping a beat when you caught the tender look in his eyes “You might be an ass, but you are my favorite ass”

Baji hummed at your reply “Yeah? That makes me feel so special”

Sighing, you put the cotton away “You know” you started, your voice carrying a nervous tone as you tried to articulate your thoughts “I’m sorry for trying to boss you around. Of course you don’t have to stay over. I could look inside my closet if I have a baggy shirt I could lend to you to walk home in-”

“No, I’m staying”

The firmness of Baji’s voice caught you off guard. Skeptical, you raised an eyebrow at your injured friend “You really don’t have to. I don’t wanna force you to stay here”

“Yeah I know, but I want to stay. I want to stay over, because I know you want me to stay. I don’t wanna worry you much more than I already have”  

You let out a groan as you heard Baji out, frustrated at the guilty face he made “Hey, I don’t want you to think that you are a burden to me in any shape or form. I have no right to make you stay if you don’t want to, you are not obligated to stay over just because I threw a temper tantrum earlier”

“I get that” Baji watched as you sat down next to him after putting all the utensils back into the first aid kit “But I understand where you’re coming from. I know I would be furious at you if you were hurt and refused help from me. I know I would chain you to bed so you wouldn’t wander off and get hurt again” 

“Baji-”

“It’s Keisuke” He rolled his eyes at your slip up, unable to hide his frustrations with you any longer “Listen, I do owe it to you to stay. If staying over is what will bring you peace of mind, I’ll stay. I care that you care for me so much”

And that was all the reassurance you needed from him. Baji went out of his way to make sure you wouldn’t worry too much about him; the way that he understood your anxiety regarding his health and wellbeing and tried to ease your mind made you feel butterflies in your stomach. 

“Thank you” You muttered while you leaned your head against his shoulder.

“No, thank you. Thank you for always being there for me” Baji whispered back, his hand soon finding its way to your hair. A satisfied hum escaped your lips when you felt him play with your hair.

“You don’t have to thank me. Caring for you comes naturally to me. It’s like a fish swimming, or a bird flying. I love caring for you” I love you.

“And I love that you care for me so much. Makes me feel really special” Baji said when his fingers played with your hair, careful not to tug too hard on your strands of hair.

“You already said that” You chuckled at him “You already said that me caring for you makes you feel special. Although” You moved your head to look at him, a teasing giggle leaving your lips “I don’t quite understand what I do to make you feel  so ‘special’ though”

Baji’s lips quirk into a grin as he turns his head as well and looks you deep in your eyes. And just like that, you were a prisoner of his earthy brown eyes. It’s as if the ground moved beneath your feet and swallowed you whole. The low light in your living room gave him an ethereal glow, and to you, he looked like the most perfect person.

“Hmm, it’s many things you do actually. You deal with my bullshit, like cleaning my wounds way past midnight. You laugh at my corny jokes, you cook from me from time to time” He chuckles “Although, your cooking skills are kinda lacking”

You scoffed at his teasing “I know I’m never going to be a Michelin star cook, but you always eat everything I make for you”

“I know. I would eat anything your golden hands would make” Baji hummed, leaning in closer to you. 

“You know, I love it when you look at me like this” He mumbles as his breath fanning over your lips. Your stomach was in knots, the proximity between you and him made you feel so damn dizzy. A tiny voice inside your head begged you to lean closer to him, to finally taste his lips like you’ve always wanted to, but you couldn’t bring yourself to bridge the distance. The rational - and perhaps shy - side won pretty quickly, so instead of making any moves on him, you hoped he would kiss you.

“How do I look at you?”, you asked in a whisper, daring him to finally say what you have waited for for so long: A hint on how he truly saw you. 

Baji’s hand reached to hold your face, no longer playing with your hair “Like I mean the world to you” He purred, his voice smooth like satin “You look at me as if I hung the stars and the moon. As if there is no one but me in the room”

“But there is no one besides you” You exclaimed, unable to stop yourself. Like a dam with cracks, you were bound to spill your feelings to him, and no force would hold back the flood. 

“And you do mean the world to me. To me, you might as well have hung the stars and the moon” you breathed shakily. You haven’t said it directly, yet you already felt like you have spilled your guts out to him “You are so incredibly important to me”

“I know, and I hope you know that I care for you just as much” Baji leans in closer, his nose touching yours “In fact, I think I might care about you than you do” He muses, his eyes never leaving yours. 

You felt as if you were on fire. It might have been the need to know if your best friend returned your feelings or not, it might have been the adrenaline you felt from feeling so close to him, perhaps you wanted to tease him back or it might have been a combination of all of the above, but you promptly challenged him “So you must love me then”

Baji’s other hand, the one that wasn’t already touching your cheek, gently cupped your face and leaned in closer to you, his lips ghosting over yours “I do” Baji mumbles, drunk of your smell and hungry to taste your lips “I love you” he breathes out before gently capturing your lips with his. 

Time seemed to slow down when his lips collided with yours. You were hoping for a hint, a clue on how he feels for you, so getting a confession and a kiss from the man you have loved for the longest time made you feel emotional. 

You wasted no time and returned the kiss eagerly, lips molding over his softly. Closing your eyes and moving your arms to carefully wrap themselves around his neck, Baji responded by turning his body towards you. His hands soon found their way towards your waist, his fingers softly gripping onto you. He didn’t want to let you go, he didn’t want to pull away or or even shift into a more comfortable position; not when he was busy summarizing every little detail of your lips. From the softness, to the taste, to the shiver he felt running down his spine when you moved your lips against his, he wanted everything engraved in his brain for the rest of his life. 

Breathlessly, you pulled away from Baji. You were mentally cursing out your body’s need for air when your soul craved to melt with his. A deep hum escaped his lips when he leaned his forehead against yours.

“I take it you like me back” Baji mumbled as he looked you deeply in your eyes. Despite it sounding like he was stating a fact, you couldn’t unhear the slightly questioning understone. You chuckled and brought your hand to his cheek, gently cupping it while your other hand remained on his neck.

“I don’t just like you” You muttered as you stole a quick peck from his lips “I love you too”

Baji let out a satisfied groan upon feeling your lips on his again “Then kiss me properly” He didn’t even waste a second and crashed his lips with yours, unable to wait for a reply back from you. While the first kiss was sweet and slow, this kiss felt raw and urgent. You felt so shy feeling his passion, but who were you to turn down a steamy kiss from Baji Keisuke?

So without thinking too much, you returned his kiss with fervor. Addicted to your lips, Baji would soon pull on your hips, his strong grip making you feel butterflies in your stomach. 

“Come sit on my lap, pretty girl” Baji whispered against your lips “Come on, sit on my lap” He demanded in a deep, sultry voice when he felt your hesitancy. Heat crept up your face and you looked away from his handsome face. His cheeks were tinted in a lovely red, the thin sheen of sweat made him look like he was sparkling in the dim light of your living room. 

“Hey” Baji tenderly held your chin and turned your face to look at him. You could still see the fire of passion in his half lidded eyes, but there was also restraint “Am I going too fast for you?” He asked before he pressed a soft kiss to your cheek.

“No, it’s not that. I just feel a little….shy” You whispered the last part. If Baji didn’t have such a firm grip on your chin, you would have tried to look away and hide your flustered face. 

“Shy?” Baji mused, a smirk creeping up on his lips “What you gotta be shy for? We confessed to each other, didn’t we?” 

“I know, but it’s just so sudden. My brain has barely registered that you like me”

“Nuh-huh, I didn’t say that I like you. I said I love you” Baji corrected, chuckling “But don’t worry, I can go slower if you’d like that. I just want you to feel comfortable around me”

That seemed to do the trick for you; despite still feeling flustered, a rush of excitement spread over your body and overpowered your initial shyness. Who would have thought that Baji ensuring you that your comfort coming first would turn you on so damn much?

Feeling bold, you eyed his toned torso. You didn’t know if it was weird or not, but you liked looking at the bruises on his body; seeing his naked upper body littered in cuts and bruises just made you feel so hot. 

“You could never make me feel uncomfortable” you whispered when you shifted closer to him, lips grazing over the now purple spot on his chest. 

Baji groaned when he felt you kiss his wound, feeling both pain and pleasure from your tender kisses. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” He growled as he felt your lips travel lower and lower, kissing each and every bruise and cut.

“I’m kissing them better” You replied back, humming as the taste of his sweat hit your tongue. You looked up from him, still kissing your way over to the very last wound, the one right on his pelvis. 

A guttural growl rumbles from his chest as he took in the view in front of him: The woman he loved so much - desired for the longest time - kissing along his torso. Baji’s pants felt so tight when he saw the longing, lust filled gaze you looked at him from beneath him. Baji just wanted to lay you on the couch, rip your clothes off your body and make you his, but he knew that wasn’t the way he wanted to fuck you for the first time. He wanted to be soft and loving, worship every inch of your body and show you just how much you meant to him. 

So he placed his hand on your head, stopping from going any lower “Lay down pretty. Let me make you feel real good” 

You felt so weak to your knees when you heard his deep and husky voice, dripping with lust and hunger. The way he looked at you, eyes half lidded and full of love, made you feel so incredibly hot and bothered. Trembling, you obeyed and got up from your sitting position and laid down on the couch, impatiently awaiting his next move. 

He laid on top of you, caging you between his strong arms. You were surrounded by him - his arms holding you in place, his toned body laying on top of you, his strong musk, his bulge pressed against your thigh…You felt so delirious when you breathed in his scent, smelling a mix of cologne, shampoo and sweat. 

“Pretty” Baji breathed out when he leaned in closer to you. His breath fanned over your face as his lips kept an agonizing distance. So close, but not nearly close enough to still the intense fire of desire that burned within you. Garnering all the confidence that you could gather, you cupped his face and kissed him - a kiss he was all too eager to return. And when his tongue mingled its way inside your mouth, you put up no fight to deny him entrance; instead parting your lips so his wet muscle could explore your mouth. 

You were too engrossed with the kiss, busy remembering the taste of his lips to notice him repositioning himself. Before, his arms caged your frame, making it impossible for you to get out of what’s to come. Now, Baji shifted so he was being supported by just one arm, while his now free hand allowed him to explore other parts. 

Your eyes shot wide open when you felt his fingers lightly graze your naked thigh. Baji’s light, almost shy touches send waves of anticipation to your pussy. Even though you wanted him to trail his calloused fingers upwards along your thigh to your throbbing clit, even though you wanted to feel him pushing his digits inside your pussy, you knew that he wouldn’t do any of that unless you give him the go ahead. 

Baji felt your growing hesitancy and pulled away from the kiss. Open mouthed, the raven haired man pushed himself away from your lips, only a string of saliva connecting your lips to his before it broke. Labored breaths left his lips as he watched you lay underneath him, his hand still on your thigh.

“What’s wrong?” His voice smooth and deep like fine wine, he asked. His eyes never left your face, trying to figure out your thoughts and his next actions. You chew on your lips as you were confronted with two possibilities: slow down or tell him exactly what you want from him. Somehow, the decision didn’t seem so hard to make. 

So you held his gaze and smiled as your hands took hold of his belt.

“Nothing” You whispered, unbuckling his belt as you felt his fingers still caressing your thigh “You don’t have to worry about me. I want this, I want you.”

“Yeah?” The seriousness in his face melts into a light grin. Baji*s lips met your neck, kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin as his fingers inch closer to your pajama shorts “How badly do you want me?”

You let out a content hum “I’d say I want you almost as badly as you want me”

The man let out a snort as he heard your bold claim. Still, he didn’t stop his gentle assault on your neck “Ah, I doubt it.” Baji murmured, his fingers finally having hooked under the waistband of the pajama shorts before he tugged them down “Baby, that’s a hell of an assumption you’re making. I don’t want you” Baji let out a ragged breath as he finally pulled your shorts down “I need you”

Baji’s skilled fingers immediately traced your outer lips in a slow, teasing way before he dipped one finger inside your pussy.

“Look at you, you’re soaked” Baji grinned as he pushed his finger deeper inside, placing tender kisses on your cheek “Tell me when it gets too much, yeah?” 

Softly pumping his finger in and out, Baji was careful to be slow and gentle with you. The man was in no rush, so he took his time riling you up. A fortunate graze against your velvety walls left you moaning and shuddering, letting Baji know he’s found the spot he was looking for. 

“Feels good, baby?” your lover asked lowly, eyes trained on your face to detect any signs of discomfort. However, to his delight, he didn’t see any at all: instead his eyes were graced with you, sweaty, panting and eyes half lidded, and fuck does he feel get himself harder by just looking at your lust drunken state.

“Hng, never felt this good” you managed to whimper out. A satisfied chuckle left Baji’s lips.

“Yeah? Gonna make you feel so so good” The usually rough man leaned closer and began to gently kiss and bite the shell of your ear “I’m gonna have to add another finger. Gotta stretch you out nicely for me. You ok with that, right?”

Your pussy fluttered at the thought of getting stretched out by him. So you nodded your head and begged him to add more fingers “Yes, please. Wanna feel more of you” you whimpered as you felt his second finger, his middle finger, ease inside your fluttering hole. Once fully inside, Baji didn’t waste time,switching between curling and pumping his digits. 

Your pussy swallowed his fingers. If it was with anyone else, you’d feel sheer embarrassment from the squelching sounds and your arousal practically coating his whole hand, his leg and the blanket under you, but you didn’t. Not with your beloved Baji, the only man that could make you forget shame and focus on feeling good.

His free hand sneaked under your pajama shirt, playing with your erect nipple while his fingers worked you towards your orgasm. Your moans were music to his ears, but the way you eagerly sucked his digits in made him wanna hear the sounds you’d make when you’re cumming. While he was still knuckle deep inside, Baji’s thumb began drawing tight circles on your throbbing clit. 

Your moans grew more frantic, the pleasure overwhelming all of your senses. Buckling your hips into his hand, you chased after your orgasm. And before you knew it, the coil inside your tummy bursted, sending waves of pleasure all across your body. A strangled moan left your lips as your orgasm washed over you. 

After he’s helped you come down from your high, Baji pulled his fingers out of your still twitching hole with a satisfied grin on his lips. 

“Felt good?”

“Felt amazing” You hummed, watching him as he licked his fingers clean, groaning at the taste “Do I taste that good?” 

“Mhhh, why don’t you see for yourself?” 

With that, Baji crashed his lips against yours. You didn’t resist when you felt his tongue on your bottom lip, allowing him entrance. His tongue explored every corner of your mouth, allowing you to taste your own juices. Baji’s hand moved away from your nipple, instead grabbing onto the hem of your shirt. The ravenette pulled away from the kiss. Your head was spinning from the lack of air but you missed his lips on yours already. 

You understood what he wanted and pulled your pajama shirt over your head and threw it away, not caring where it landed as long as he was still on top of you. Baji’s eyes drank in the sight of you, bare and needy for him. Calloused hands gently kneaded your moundsas he placed a hot kiss on your lips.

“‘s that all for me?”Baji groaned against your lips “Gosh, you’re so damn pretty, you know that?”

“I wouldn’t mind if you’d tell me so more often” chuckling, you returned the yearning kiss, moaning softly from his touch.

“Yeah? I’m gonna tell you every day” Baji’s kissed your neck downwards “gonna remind you every day how perfect you are for me” 

His lips soon found your bare breasts, sucking and biting on your soft flesh. Baji carefully cupped your tits in his big hands before his mouth latched onto one of your nipples. Desire pooled between your thighs again. You wanted him, and you wanted him now. 

A small giggle left your lips. Your fingers combed his silky black hair away from his face, tucking his locks against his ears “I’m perfect for you? And they say love is dead”

You felt him gently bite your sensitive bud, grazing the hardened bud with his sharp canines before he let go. “In every way possible, yes. You are perfect for me” Baji mumbled against your chest. 

Your heart fluttered at his declaration. Somehow, this rough, impulsive man managed to make you putty in his hands. And you knew you were in it too deep because you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Your hands sneaked away from his hair, traveling between your hot bodies and stopping at his pants. His bulge was still firmly pressed against your thigh and you wanted to free his dick from its confines. 

“Can I?” You asked sweetly, fingers gripping his belt, waiting for Baji to give the green light. Of course he would allow you. 

Baji lifted his head from your chest, a cheeky smirk on his lips as he heard your request “I don’t know” He mused “Can you?” and before you could pout or tell him off, he quickly added “Go ahead. Been waiting too long to have you already”

You didn’t need to be told twice. Swiftly, you undid his belt and tugged his pants and underwear lower. Baji helped you in getting rid of his remaining clothes. The ravenette readjusted his position and lifted himself up before discarding pants and shorts to a random corner of your living room. 

Finally, no barriers, no layers between you and him. You wanted to feel him, badly.  Not being able to think properly, your hand wandered lower, tracing along his abs to his pelvis before you firmly took hold of his dick. Baji shuddered at your touch. Your fingertips barely touched as you wrapped your hand around his girthy cock. The stretch is gonna be deliciously painful. Your mouth watered at the thought of it. 

Deep moans bubbled out of the ravenette’s lips, his eyes pressed shut at the feeling of your hand pumping him. Your hand stroked him with vigor, touching his cock from base to his leaking tip. God, you wished you could lick up all of his precum, but you knew there would be another time for sucking him off. Right now, playing with his pretty red tip and smearing his pre all over his tip would have to do.

However, he didn’t let you stroke him for too long “Baby, I’m not gonna last long if you keep on stroking me like that” Baji groaned “Wanna fuck you nice and slow” The raven haired man nestled his face into your neck, kissing the bite marks he gave you earlier.

“That is, if you let me” he moaned lightly as your hand stopped stroking him, retreating as he had requested “You sure you wanna do this?” your lover inquired. Despite his genuine concern, you saw the spark of desire in his brown, half lidded eyes, ready to be unleashed. You firmly nodded your head, unwilling to deny him or yourself of the intimacy the two of you craved for so long. 

“Yes, I’m sure. I want you, here and right now” 

That was all he needed. Baji wrapped his fingers around the base of his cock and slowly guided the tip inside your clenching hole. Moans and whimpers bounced off the walls of your living room as Baji slowly pushed his throbbing cock inside you. The stretch was overwhelming your senses; tears formed on your lower lash both from pain and pleasure. 

Your lover stopped pushing himself inside you, instead his hand wiped away the single tear that escaped your eyes. 

“You ok?” the raven haired man asked in a soft and worried tone. Your vision was blurry from the tears, but you could perfectly envision his furrowed brows and the concerned look in his eyes. Wiping away the tears, your predictions proved to be right. You knew him well, after all. 

“‘m ok, it’s just a lot” Baji caressed your warm cheek and you leaned into it instinctively “You can move now. I don’t want you to stop until you’re fully inside”

The tension left his face as soon as you gave him the go ahead. Baji’s hand never left your face while he pushed every inch inside your pussy, caressing it lightly and soothing you. How sweet of him. 

Once he bottomed out, Baji waited until you’ve adjusted to his size. He didn’t have a reputation of being patient, and although your walls clung to his dick so deliciously it drove him wild, Baji didn’t dare move until he knew it was fine for him to move. Oh the things he does for love.

You on the other hand weren’t feeling patient. You tried moving your hips against his but failed miserably when you didn’t feel the friction you were hoping for. Amused by your desperation, Baji watched your attempts at humping his cock with a wolfish grin. 

“And here I thought I was being a gentleman for being patient” He laughed heartily “That’s not gonna get you off baby. Lay back and let me make you feel real good, alright?” 

You rolled your eyes and chuckled, relaxing underneath him and letting him take control “You know, that does sound nice” your sentence got cut short by the sudden snap of his hips. Baji set a slow, comfortable pace. Not too fast to overwhelm you too soon, but also not too slow to bore you. Perfect for love making. 

Your moans and his grunts along with the soft squeaking noises of the couch bounced off the walls of your living room. His sweat drenched body collided with yours over and over again, his cockhead occasionally hitting your g-spot. He’d feel the way you’d clench harder around him, the way your eyes would roll back and the louder whimpers leaving your lips when he’d hit the right spots. Baji was a very perceptive man, paying close attention to the movements that would entice such reactions and recreating them. 

He angles his dick, hitting your g-spot over and over again. Baji’s efforts paid off, the sweet moans growing more frantic and your velvety walls clenching around his dick so deliciously were his rewards. 

“You know, you look so damn pretty all worked up” Baji mused, giving your lips a yearning peck “But I need to see how pretty you look when you cum on my cock” With that, your lover supported his weight with only one arm while the other relaxed, hand sneaking between your bodies and playing with your overstimulated clit. 

You felt a tight knot building up in your stomach as Baji continued to fuck into you. His pace picked up, his fingers not leaving your clit until you’d come undone for him. All thoughts have left your head and you weren’t able to form a coherent sentence at this point. You felt so overwhelmed; the way he sunk himself inside you at the perfect angle to hit your g-spot with his cockhead, the way his fingers drew tight circles on your sensitive puffy bud, the way his body pressed against yours, the way his face contorted in pleasure, the way that despite him chasing after his release Baji made it a priority to make you cum too, the way your name left his lips like a prayer. It made the tight knot burst.

You cried out his name as you came undone on his dick, just like he wanted you to. You arched your back as the wave of pleasure washed over you, legs shaking at how hard you came. 

Baji couldn’t get enough of your fucked out face. His fingers stopped their assault on your spent clit, instead gripping your hip lightly. His movements stuttered, his own orgasm building up. Your walls clenched around him so tightly, begging to be filled up with his cum. With one last strong thrust, Baji emptied himself inside of you, feeling the warm embrace of your velvety walls milking him dry for all he’s worth. 

Your lover collapsed on top of you, spent from the physical and emotional release. Baji buried his face into the crook of your neck and kissed your tender skin while your fingers raked through his long raven hair. 

“I love you so damn much” He mumbled in between kisses “And I love being able to tell you that I love you. I love that you’re officially mine”

Warmth rushed to your cheeks at his admission of love. Despite laying naked under him, hearing Baji say that he loves you never fails to make you feel like you were on fire. 

You chuckled, feeling butterflies in your stomach “Officially yours? When did you ask me?”

A deep chuckle rumbled through him as you teased him “Don’t be like that. You didn’t mind when you were screaming out my name not even 10 minutes ago” Baji lifted his face from your neck, a sly smirk adorning his handsome features “You’re mine, and I’m yours” he ended with a sweet kiss on your lips. You held his face and kissed him back, feeling warmth spread all over your body as he stated his claim over you. 

The ravenette pulled away from the kiss and gently caressed your cheek “You know, I was also absolutely right about you looking beautiful when you come all over me” You wanted to scoff and tease him, but the soft, adoring look in his eyes made you reconsider. No traces of teasing. Baji really meant it. 

Instead, you collected yourself and asked “So, you said you’ll stay over, right?” The way you’ve said it sounded so soft to him, he too didn’t have the heart to tease you for the remainder of the night. 

“Mhm, gonna stay the night” Baji placed a small kiss on your forehead “Come, I’ll carry you to your bed”

[aventurineswife]

HIII I SAW YOUR LATEST WRITINF ABOUT THE ALLERGIES AND ATUFF AND IT WAS SO GOOD BUT UHM ANYWAY....

may I pretty please request for Obey Me about MC who's a famous singer on Earth? Like MC's music is very versatile and makes multiple songs of multiple genres that the characters will most likely listen to, and the characters find out about this either by their own or someone helped them find out about singer!MC. You can pick which characters you want to write this with, I don't have a preference on whoever gets chosen!!!

If you can't take this request it's okay!! There's still more content of yours for me to feast on!!! 😋😋 have a nice day!!

Singer at Devildom!

Tags: Lucifer x Reader, Mammon x Reader, Leviathan x Reader, Satan x Reader, Asmodeus x Reader, Beelzebub x Reader, Belphegor x Reader, Singer!Reader/MC, I'm lazy on adding more tags.

Lucifer

Lucifer had always prided himself on being aware of everything that happened in the Devildom, but this was a revelation that caught him off guard. It all started with an article from an Earth-based publication that appeared on the Devildom news network. The headline caught his eye: "Rising Star of Earth’s Music Scene—The Versatile Artist Who’s Taking the World by Storm!"

The singer’s name? MC. Lucifer furrowed his brows, the name ringing a bell, but it wasn’t until he saw a picture accompanying the article—MC. His heart skipped a beat. The face was unmistakable, and the realization hit him like a ton of bricks.

"MC…" he muttered to himself, not sure how to process the information.

Later that night, Lucifer approached you, his expression unreadable.

"I didn't realize you were so talented." he said, his voice smooth but with an undertone of something deeper—was it admiration or was he trying to figure out how you managed to keep such a big secret?

You smiled lightly. "Well, not everyone needs to know everything about me, right?"

Lucifer couldn't suppress the faintest smirk. "I suppose you're right. But don't think I won't be keeping an eye on you."

Mammon

Mammon’s love for Earthly things was no secret, and he often spent his time scouring the internet for anything shiny and new. That’s when he stumbled upon a link that caught his attention. It was a YouTube video titled "MC: The Artist Who Does It All! (Pop, Rock, R&B, and More!)".

He clicked it out of curiosity, and within seconds, his mouth dropped open. He had no idea you were that famous! Not only were you on Earth’s charts, but you were in multiple genres—ranging from catchy pop anthems to soulful ballads to energetic rock songs. Each song sounded completely different, yet all of them had something that was undeniably you.

Mammon watched every video for hours, his heart swelling with pride. “That’s my human! My MC!” he exclaimed as he bounced around the room, not caring about who could hear him possibly.

When he finally found you, he didn’t know how to express how impressed he was. “Why didn’t ya tell me yer were famous?!” he nearly shouted. “I would’ve been showin’ yer off to the whole Devildom!”

You chuckled softly. “I guess I wanted to keep it lowkey.”

Mammon grinned ear to ear. “Well, now that I know, everyone’s gonna hear about it, MC. Yer mine to brag about now!”

Leviathan

Levi, who was always glued to his screen, was indulging in his usual obsession with Earth media. He was scrolling through his favorite streaming platform when an alert popped up: "Exclusive Interview with MC: The Earth Star Who’s Conquered Every Genre!"

He clicked immediately, his eyes widening as he saw your face and heard your voice. It was surreal to him. The person he had been living with, the person he joked around with, was not just some random human—but a huge star on Earth?

“This… this is amazing!” Levi squealed, clutching his Ruri-chan plushie. “MC, you’ve been hiding this from me?! A multi-genre superstar? How is that even possible?”

When he confronted you later that day, it wasn’t in anger, but pure shock.

“MC, how long were you gonna keep this from me?” he said, his eyes wide with excitement. “You’re famous! You’re like, a legend!”

You laughed, giving him a sheepish smile. “I didn’t think it was that big of a deal…”

Leviathan's jaw dropped. “Not that big of a deal? You’re a rockstar!” His eyes sparkled with admiration. "Can you teach me how to make a song? I wanna be like you!"

Satan

Satan discovered your secret in the most unexpected way: through an obscure literature blog on Earth that also reviewed music. It was a niche article on artists who used their songs to convey deep, poetic messages, and of course, your name appeared. The article praised your ability to blend complex lyrics with diverse melodies.

Intrigued, Satan listened to a few of your songs—one being a deep, melancholy ballad, another a poetic piece about the struggles of the soul. He was mesmerized. You, a human, had an ability to express such profound thoughts through music? It resonated with his own love for literature and words.

He found you in the library later, his eyes gleaming. “MC… your music,” he started, his voice unusually soft. “It’s… it's incredible. You convey emotions and ideas so deeply. It’s something I rarely encounter.”

You raised an eyebrow, half-amused. “So, you’re saying you’re a fan?”

He smiled, though it was subtle. “I suppose I am. Do you have any other songs that explore the nature of human emotions? I would love to discuss them with you.”

Asmodeus

Asmodeus discovered your fame through the Devildom’s social media channels. A post about a viral music video caught his attention. It was you—dressed in a fabulous outfit, singing and dancing with effortless elegance. The sheer glamour of it all had him hooked instantly.

“Oh my, MC! You didn’t tell me you were a superstar!” Asmodeus squealed the next time he saw you, his eyes twinkling with a mix of admiration and a little envy. “Look at you! You’re stunning, so talented, and iconic!”

You laughed, your cheeks flushing slightly. “Well, I try to keep it humble.”

Asmodeus winked. “Humble is so last season. Darling, you’re a god/goddess on stage! You should let me style you for your next performance—I’ll make sure you outshine everyone.”

Beelzebub

Beel’s discovery was almost accidental. He was scrolling through Earth’s food blogs when he saw an ad for your latest single. The ad was paired with a video of you performing live, and he couldn’t help but click. What drew him in wasn’t just your voice, but the way you performed with such passion and ease.

Later, he approached you quietly in the kitchen while you were making snacks. “MC, I didn’t know you were… um, a famous singer,” he said, a bit shy. “Your music is really good. I… I like it a lot.”

Your eyes softened. “Thanks, Beel. I didn’t mean to keep it a secret, it’s just something I’ve done for a while.”

Beel smiled, his usual warm, comforting smile. “I think you’re great. I’d love to hear more of your songs.”

Belphegor

Belphegor discovered your secret when he overheard a conversation between Lucifer and Diavolo. They were discussing a music video that had gone viral on Earth, and your name came up. Belphegor was half-asleep on the couch, but that single mention was enough to grab his attention.

“MC? A singer?” he muttered lazily to himself, still processing the information. "That’s a little surprising."

When he finally saw you again, his tone was teasing. “So, you’re a famous singer on Earth, huh? Must be nice. Do you get a lot of fans singing your praises, or is it all just too much for you?”

You smiled knowingly. “It’s a lot, but I enjoy it.”

Belphegor let out a yawn, resting his head on his arms. “I guess you’re not so bad. Just don’t get too full of yourself, okay? If you want me to listen to your music, just know I won’t be impressed that easily.”

You chuckled. “I’ll keep that in mind, Belphie.”

[xxsycamore]

SINFUL DESIRES

╰┈➤ 🖤 You have a hard time relaxing on your spontaneous overnight trip with Victor, so he wastes no time showing you he has tons of fun in store for the two of you…

Victor x f!Reader; • rating: E (MDNI) • tags: Overnight Trips; Crimes & Criminals; Mentions of Dungeons; Baking Together; Jealousy; Humor; Competition; Kissing; Biting; Mentions of Knife play; Kitchen Sex; Oral Sex; Cunnilingus; Gentle Sex; Embarrassment; Hair-pulling; Hair Kink; Hand Kink; Finger Sucking; Table Sex; Victor briefly makes reader imagine a dangerous situation; Creampie; Post-sex cuddles; Aftercare • wordcount: 3,842 • masterlist

a/n: Here's my fic for the Ikemen Villains Gift Exchange hosted by @aquagirl1978 ! My giftee was @konekotaichou - I'll let you know I had the widest smile on my face finding out I'll be writing for you. I see your name often under my fics so that's just one way of saying thank you for the support~ Hope you enjoy! <3

"We're hoooooome!"

You should be used to the loud exclamations of your dear Victor by now, but there are still some occasions where you can't help but jump at the sheer volume of them. No, no, you have a very valid reason for your reaction right now! It's because you're still linking arms with him - you have been doing so ever since setting a foot out of the carriage - and this close up, his cheerful greetings directed at no one in particular are even louder.

But it's also because this is not your home at all. It's the vacant ex-base of some criminal group, the estate now seized by Her Majesty.

"Victor… are you sure this is a suitable destination for an overnight trip…? What if there's a dungeon right under our feet filled with—"

"Worry not, my darling! Even if there was such a thing here, right now it would be nothing more than just another empty room with no other purpose but to make things a little more thrilling while we walk above. But you haven't come here before on a mission, have you? I'll let you know - there's nothing like a dungeon in this building!"

Victor's words are very reassuring, if only there weren't another dozen adjacent possibilities to utilize a base that you want to ask about. Whatever. Even on the off-chance that someone was lurking inside the shadows of the place, Victor's noisy and nonchalant barging in has surely scared them way more than it scared you.

Your beautiful Grim Reaper makes himself busy lighting candles left and right, making the place more livable, even if just for the short duration of your trip. It all happened so spontaneously. Just earlier in the day, you mentioned how nice it would be to go somewhere for a change, just the two of you, and in the next moment Victor swept you right off your feet and declared that it's been decided. Being an Aide of the Queen definitely comes with its perks, you just weren't aware that borrowing one of the numerous properties of her Majesty was one of them. He's been very convincing at telling you not to sweat over the details and enjoy the impromptu trip, painting picture after picture with his words earlier while in the carriage, of all the nice sights to be seen around the estate… Though, that would be left for the next day. Right now it's only you and Victor and the empty halls that he's trying to fill with his exuberant presence.

"May I have your attention?"

While distracted with your own thoughts, Victor has entered another room so you hurry to follow his voice to what seems like the kitchen. As if waiting for a spotlight to land on him, Victor's smile widens upon finding your gaze on him. He opens his jacket to reveal…

"Are we going to bake?!"

At least it's not doves taking flight or anything else alive, but that doesn't make the contents of his inner pockets less bewildering as he takes the items out on the counter one by one.

"Ahahahaha! Are you surprised? I came here prepared! I've brought flour, milk, sugar, and butter! Yaay!"

"Scones?!"

"Scones!"

Of course it's scones. But what compels him to enter another's home and bake scones?

Your chemistry must be very good because the look on your face is always enough for Victor to read your mind. Sadly, you can't say the same about the numerous shades of a grin that typically occupy his features, but you're still learning.

"You see, I was thinking of allll the exciting ways to use our privacy, now that we're here. And there's always been one thing I've wanted you to indulge in without limits…"

Victor's eyes shine with a strange light, and you find yourself sinking into their alluring amethyst waters until the meaning behind his words gets all twisted and tangled in the mess of your thoughts. Heat creeps up to your cheeks.

"Like what?..."

"Like stuffing yourself full of scones, of course! As much as I loooove my dear fellow Crown members, these just disappear awfully quickly when they're around!"

Ah, true.

You fight the urge to shake your head and with that shoo away any other unwelcome thoughts like the one you just had. Victor, now stripped down to his black dress shirt, does the next step of preparing himself for the self-appointed task and gathers his long, luxurious dark hair into a ponytail. It's your cue to do some prep of your own, and by habit, you look around for an apron… But of course there'd be no extras like an apron here, the people who used to live in that place were criminals! The mental image of them using the kitchen as intended is somehow comical and it definitely distracts you from the eerie energy gathering around the place. Admittedly, Victor does a great job at it as well, you remind yourself as you sneak a peek of him with a hair ribbon in his mouth - a rare instance of him being quiet, due to the obstacle preventing him from speaking. The giggle finally falls from your lips, and you realize you're having a good time here.

"Oh? Did something funny happen?"

"No, I'm just excited to share this moment of privacy with you. Though, Victor, I can't help but worry a little… Would the others be alright without you? What if they get into a fight with each other… I'm sure William is going to miss you too, you barely warned anyone about us leaving so abruptly! And besides—"

Before the name of another Crown member could fall from your lips, a tall figure towers over you; a pair of hands grab your shoulders and turn you around with the gentleness of a courting dance step. Your rear presses into the counter, and you realize Victor has trapped you in between it and his body. The smile is still on his face, but it's not a grin - it's something lighter, a tad more modest.

"You talk about being excited to have privacy with me, but you're thinking about other men, my little robin? Tsk, tsk, tsk…"

The clicking of his tongue lacks the usual eccentricity that he dresses his manners with. It sounds more threatening than anything, even if you know better than to feel intimidated by the slight change in his tone. It's something else that catches your attention, the tang of jealousy where you least expected to find it. It truly wasn’t your intention, and you probably should find your words and speak up-

"Not that I could blame you. I think about my boys too, haha! But tonight, will you let it be just the two of us?"

His gaze softens, and you can breathe again. The lungful of air is enough to make your chest expand and touch Victor's front, and you realize how tightly he's pressing you into him with his current proximity. It doesn't last long, because Victor steps away the very next second.

"Why don't we play a little game while we're here? There's always room for more fun to be had and I just thought of the perfect thing in our current arrangement."

You remain backed against the counter, just for the sake of the support you didn’t know you needed in the first place. "What kind of game?"

"There are quite a few drawers and cabinets around here, and we have to retrieve all utensils needed for preparing our scones… We will search for each one of them on our own, but whoever finds it first wins one wish to be granted by the other. How does that sound to you?"

Now, this is unexpected. Even though your partner always has a few tricks up his sleeve to spice things up between the two of you, he's still astonishing you with his ideas. You think about it for a second. If you take his word for granted, he must be as unfamiliar with the terrain as you are, putting you on equal grounds for this little game. Besides, you might have a wish ready for him - something small and intimate and fitting for the purpose of utilizing the privacy you just talked about.

"Okay, let's do this! Bring it on! What do we need first?"

Victor finishes starting the coal oven in no time before readying himself for the search and announcing, "A bowl, of course!"

You give each other a brief competitive look before going into opposite directions of the cabinet-lined space, hands reaching out in a rush. Victor uses his height advantage to check the upper shelves first, while you aim for one that is near the sink.

Bingo.

"Here, a bowl!"

Blinking in yet-realized defeat, Victor stares at your triumphant face and then chuckles in his usual tone.

"My, aren't you quick! You better start thinking of a wish, I'm afraid we're having a limited time for goofing around!"

Oh, you're not going to waste any more of it. Or at least no more than enough for the duration of one longed-for kiss.

Victor's expression goes through another change when you pull him down by the collar, and you close your eyes to let it linger in your mind when his lips crash down into yours. You savor them slowly, risking the intended innocence for the sake of enjoying him just a little longer. Soon he's out of breath, and it comes out in the form of a moan - and instead of letting go, it makes you want to kiss him breathless for a little longer. So you do. Because he's so irresistible when he lets you take the lead, when he stays still and pretends to be caught off-guard and lets you have him. He must have held back just for that - else he'd kiss you as soon as setting foot inside the house, he can't fool you that he wasn't awaiting this moment as much as you did.

His jealousy-tinted remark earlier, and this little game… they tell you he might have waited for you to make the first step and show him how much you missed his kisses, his embrace. It doesn't tarnish your victory one bit, for it is still your victory as long as you get what you want.

Victor hisses into the kiss as you realize you got a little too lost in it and bit his lower lip. You withdraw, drawing a breath of your own that you didn’t know you needed this much, but not without placing an apologetic little peck over his lip. The distance between you grows a bit more and looking him in the eye suddenly robs you of the courage you just demonstrated. Even if his cheeks are noticeably tinted pink by the endeavour.

"Next, we'll need a knife."

Your imagination fills with corset ties cut by a sharp blade and garter belts following them, and you fail to consider the task at hand, involuntarily giving Victor an advantage. It only takes two or maybe three drawers for him to find where the cutlery is stored, and he turns back to face you with the glint of a silvery surface catching abundant candlelight.

"First."

Victor gains himself the right to a wish, and you know you'll do anything he says at that moment. He's still carrying a small smile on his face, without showing teeth, just menacing enough to pin you to the counter from a distance. He still prefers the more hands-on approach, and so he takes those few steps to where you're standing, knife still in hand.

He tosses it somewhere on the counter and it lacks the decorum otherwise accompanying his every action. Instead, the hands that crawl all over you are warm and gentle, nothing like the cold blade of a knife. They don’t cut through clothing, but rather make it fall undone in a slower, more lascavious manner.

"Let's take this off…"

To think you were worried about putting on an apron earlier… Victor leaves you down to your underwear, and the last bits of your patience have crumbled to dust by the time he noses your exposed neck. You press yourself more into him, embarrassed at the mewling sounds that fall from your parted lips every time he kisses or sucks at the sensitive skin. He always makes sure to love you throughoutly, no matter how starved he might seem - the gleam in his eyes might trick you into thinking him a beast, but his actions always prove the opposite. His hands run all over your body, grasping and caressing where you want him most, but it's only when he puts you on top of the counter that he strips you down completely in order to please you properly.

He parts your legs with his big sturdy hands, and the trademark chuckle reaches your ears again.

"Ahahaha! Aren't you a dirty girl, getting wet so easily for me? When did that happen? When you kissed me so passionately, or perhaps even earlier? Could it be as soon as we got here?"

Moving to close your legs proves to be futile as Victor's grasp on them prevents you from doing so. There's no point in hiding the obvious, so even with your head turned to the side, you give him an answer.

"I don't know what's gotten into me, I just… I need you, Victor."

"Hmmm…" Victor hums and the sound vibrates low in his throat, "I believe it was my turn to have my wish granted, no?"

You squeeze your eyes shut when his fingertips dance on your belly, making their way down lower and lower.

"And what do you- wish for?" You ask between breaths, trying not to just grab his hand and place it directly where you want it.

Victor looks at you and smiles. "Why, to make you relax of course! Now, if you'd be so kind to let me…"

Unceremoniously, Victor leans down and buries his face between your legs, sending your senses to overdrive with a single sweep of his wicked tongue right across your swollen nub. You groan out his name, but it comes out meekly, troubled by the imaginary danger of someone overhearing you. Even through the fog of immense pleasure coming from Victor's newly-set steady pace, you remind yourself that this shouldn't be the case now - but you still can't let your voice out. It doesn't take long for Victor to notice, and he interrupts his actions to look at you.

"My dear, I need you to tell me how good I'm making you feel."

His gentle voice coaxing the sounds out of you is contrasting with his actions as he shows no mercy on your hot center, making your juices seep out and coat his tongue as he drinks them down hungrily. Victor is a great lover, able to send your head in the clouds with ease, ready to pleasure you for hours on as long as you're able to take more.

You keep your hand in front of your mouth but make sure it doesn't block out the noise, your fingers grazing into the skin of your knuckle just for the sheer need of finding an anchor in this whirlwind of pleasure. You can't stop looking down at Victor, his beautiful long lashes, the slight blush on his smooth cheeks…

"V-Victor- Nhhh, Victor~!" The sound of your own voice embarrasses you as you're not used to hearing it out loud, wanton and obscene like that, and you curl the last syllable into something meeker, softer. It makes him chuckle.

"If that's too much for you, you know how to make me stop." He sing-songs, even if it does little to hide the desire rasping his voice. It awakens a new need inside you, now that you're bare and exposed and things are so unfair - from this angle you don't have a chance of spotting his own arousal and you have to know you're not alone in this uncontrollable desire, heightened by the thrill of the unknown place you found yourself at. It's this that convinces you to make him let go instead of grinding down on his tongue until you find your peak.

Bitting on your bottom lip, you reach out a hand to perform the familiar gesture as Victor laps at you again and again. Your hesitation grants you a bolt of pleasure that drives you dangerously close to the edge, and it's all you need to finally reach for his ponytail and yank him off of you.

"Ahh…" Victor moans at the sensation, knowing fully well he was the one who asked for it and still falling prey to the tantalizing act he loves so much. He straightens himself back up and his lips are glistening with your liquid arousal, so you can't help tracing his bottom lip with your thumb, caressing over the beauty mark. He takes the initiative and kisses you on the spot.

His sweet kiss serves only to distract as Victor makes a quick work of unfastening his belt and unbuttoning his pants. Warm arms wrap around your middle and in answer your snake yours around his neck, whining at the sensation of his diamond-hard cock pressing against your folds so close to where you need it. But Victor doesn't take you just yet, because his strong arms carry you to the table instead.

Your back meets the wooden surface and your legs are spread apart at the knees by a pair of large hands as Victor looks down at you, open and dripping and ready for him. His smile never leaves his face as you sense him giving himself a couple of pumps before aiming for your aching hole.

"Remember to scream my name loudly!"

Victor's sizeable hardness is gradually stuffed inside your tight hole as you find yourself doing anything to prevent his kind request.

"Ahh—"

One of his hands comes to brush yours away but instead you take a strong hold of it, almost enough to bruise him with little crescents left by your nails, in an attempt to keep it over your mouth. As Victor takes his time getting you used to his cock, you put his index finger in your mouth, looking him in the eye as you both test the limits of your patience.

"Be careful now, I don't want you choking on that when I start loving you in the earnest!"

The promise of what is to come sends a shiver down your spine as your mouth is left agape even after the loss of his finger.

"Nhhhh- Victor!" You shout his name as he suddenly picks up the speed, fucking you onto the table and holding you securely into place. You toss your head back and stare at the ceiling, unable to catch your breath as the head of his cock repeatedly prods at your deepest parts.

"My, aren't you starting to relax at long last!" Victor exclaims between heavy breaths, not being one to hide his own sounds of arousal, "Being fucked on the table where such dangerous men used to sit, plotting their next crime…"

Your eyes snap open, insides clenching tightly around Victor's cock, a mere instinct and nothing you have control over. The words sink in, even if you're mostly unable to think straight with your current circumstances. Your brain, high on pleasure hormones, gets creative against your will, until you can almost see playing cards being passed around on the table right where you lay bare; drunken shouts and crude remarks birthing shrill laughter and cigarette smoke dancing in the air to leech thickly onto the curtains.

Your body convulses, but it only serves to shake away the unpleasant visual as it all dissipates like a fog around you until only Victor remains. It makes you want to scream his name louder, to feel his presence domineering over every silly thought in your head. Perhaps it was his plan all along. It's so easy to lower your guard around Victor, around Victor's hearty laugher, around Victor's ever-smiling eyes-

"Nhnnn— Ahhh!! More, give me more!"

You lock your legs around Victor, and the hand reaching out to his shoulder quickly gets naughtier as you tug at the ribbon holding his hair together. Long strands cascade down and frame his form, the ends of it pooling just over your belly and tickling you softly in a very familiar manner - you can't help but miss the dark veil of his hair falling over you every time he's taking you from the front like that. It also makes it easier to tug down on it and make him groan.

"Ahh— You're too naughty, aren't you?"

You can't help it, feeling your climax approaching, wanting to drag Victor into that pit along with you. You chant his name as you care little about letting your voice out anymore, focusing only on the man in front of you and how badly you need to feel him erupt inside you. Your legs locked around his torso prevent him any escape that you know he won't look for anyway, because he only fucks you harder and faster, losing all demure and rhythm as he moans your name in return.

"I'm coming—"

His warning sends you over the edge as hot-white takes over your vision, nerves sparkling with pure pleasure all over as your whole body tremors in copious amounts of ecstasy upon feeling Victor join you suit, his come painting your insides spurt after spurt. He keeps fucking you through it all, half-broken I love you's whispered among other not-so-sweet things that still somehow keep his gentleman persona intact when combined with the soft caresses he places over the small of your back, your body arched and unnoticeably raised from the table to meet his thrusts. He lays you back down carefully, but your arms are still held out and inviting for another embrace, a freshly fucked-out but pouty look on your face to match.

"Hahaha. I'm not going anywhere, cute little robin!"

Still catching your breath, you press clumsy kisses all over his cheeks as he hugs you, and he does the same.

"Victor, that felt…somehow sinful."

"But so good?"

You hum out a sound of agreement, and he giggles in your neck like a naughty child. The peace doesn't last for long, because his next whisper alerts your senses anew.

"What about making something even more sinful now?"

You ask with hesitation and just a tad of curiosity in the mix.

"Like what?"

Victor grins, withdrawing so you can clearly see his closed-eye grin.

"Like adding some eeeeextra butter to those scones! It could be our dirty secret!"

Oh. Your heart should be signaled to calm down now, but the truth is, this is one thing you can't pretend to be a saint about, not when your mouth waters at his words. There's little left to do than to answer your partner in a fashion that matches his antics.

"Yaaaay!"

Taglist: @arsnovacadenza @kimi00twin @g-kleran @thesirenwashere @devonares @galaxyprison @sadshaxk @starshards26 @thewitchofbooks @acethephoenix256 @ikevamp-shrine-2 @nad-zeta @crystal13unny @lordsister @ikemen-banshou   @themysticalbeing @otome-scribbles @rhodolitesrose @coornn @kpop-and-otome @queen-dahlia @kisara-16 @chaosangel767 @ikemenlibrary @queengiuliettafirstlady @aurora-morning @ikemenlover24 @mcofthemansion @joy-the-reader @katriniac @ikemen-writer @tele86 @lovely-bubb1es @aria-chikage @babyblue0t7 @rhodoliteschaos @shrimpy-kitsune @nightghoul381 @xbalayage @lucyw260 @kittygrimm88 @lokis-laugh @judejazza @natimiles @completelyshatteredbrokenmschf @groovylita @justpeachyteastea Let me know if you want to be tagged/untagged!

[imbecominggayer]

How To Write Cuddling

This my third part to my series where I get specific requests from people about what advice they want. Here we have @12-cluh to explain what about cuddling is getting them confused:

"Idk how to really describe what I'm going after. I'd say I'm more confused on how to describe the way the bodies are laying together? That sounds weird but you get it-"

Perfect, so our key problem is how to establish a character's positioning in the cuddling!

First: How Are These People Cuddling?

Here is some great writing advice for all manners of situations: try to physically establish where the characters are

Heck, you could draw a nice stickman cuddling session in order to get everything down.

This is mostly to prevent a type of "I gently wrapped my arms around her in an unending hug as I let my free hand grasp onto her colder fingers." situation. If you didn't notice, human character grew a third hand and certainly didn't tell me.

And obviously, reread your material out loud so your pesky brain wont perform it's own autocorrect

Next, there are tons of different cuddling positions that evoke different types of atmospheres from the sultry to the affectionate to the hilarious.

Based on what I googled, there are many different names and Shingles is the weirdest thing to name a cuddling style.

Since this cuddling is taking place between "a couple who finally get a day off. (featuring her tracing his scars! :3" I'm guess that @12-cluh is probably going for affectionate.

I probably would recommend "Sweetheart's Cradle" or "The Honeymoon Hug" if you are going for an ultra-affectionate cuddle.

If you are looking for something more casual yet still affectionate then "The Spoon" and, uhh, "Shingles" . The "Sweetheart's Cradle" could still work here but that's up to your interpretation of what Romance On The Go is talking about.

2. Actual Description

Quote: "...how to describe the way the bodies are laying together?

Obviously, it's hard for me to give specific details on how to describe the scene since it's feelings which change the world and influence how it arrives to the audience.

If this is a somber affair, based on the scar tracing, then that's obviously going to influence the atmosphere. If it's a highly affectionate get-together then that's the diction.

However, in general, you don't need proper "he laid down on her" type of weirdly phrased descriptions.

You just need to get the emotion across.

For example, "He lowers them onto the bed once again, the back of his hand brushing against her cheek. She latches onto him and refuses to let go for the rest of the night. She refuses to let go for forever, actually. She prayes that she wasn't alone. That this isn't just another dream or mistake. When the sunlight glimmers through the curtain, she will thank the gods for this blessed union."

I hoped I communicated the deep love and desperation between these characters :3 God, I am such a bad writer.

Anyway, as you can see there wasn't a lot of detail focused on where my female character was latching onto. All the detail you need is for the movements that display emotion such as the caressing

Here is a more comedic example for more proof: "What nobody told him about cuddling is how f*cking uncomfortable it was. What should've been a delicate and affectionate affair was instead a mess of limbs and sweat as his boyfriend's ability to light up his life was far more literal then he wanted. But even if his hand may never function again as this brick shithouse of a man has lovingly passed out on it, the feeling of just being together in this shitty cot makes his soul tremble in the sweetest, strangest way. "

I regret writing examples of this. I am going to get destroyed in the comments for my shitty writing ability :`(

Anyway, there is little set-up for what limbs are where and what everyone is specifically doing.

There are other things you can do to show the audience where your characters are. "Our breath mixed together". Or "I could hear his heartbeat".

And now I need to ask you "doth that satisfy thou my liege?" I tried to do this advice right since it's you and for some reason I care about you more then I should, darling.

So please give me my validation and feel free to ask me for more writing advice. I am forever at your beck and call.

[copperbadge]

Hi CB! I've followed your work for a while and I'm curious - I've seen that you do many times on a repetitive and consistent manner.......how? By the love of gods, how? What is this magic? Is it inherited? Genetic? Signed, please-halp

Hey, thanks for reading! I think you may have missed a word in the ask so I am taking a best guess at what you were inquiring about, but I'm guessing you were asking about consistent and repeat ability to write and post fiction? Gosh that sounds egotistical of me but I used to be known for being prolific and I think I'm still known for, if not having the BEST prose, at least having the ability to be of consistent quality. :)

The good news is that it is neither magic nor genetic, and one of those things that anyone can achieve -- it just takes time and a bit of effort. The secret is that I wasn't always even a good writer; what I have always been is a passionate writer. My early fanfic, from fourteen to eighteen, was actually very bad. But I did it a lot. It's hard to get truly good at something if you aren't passionate about it because you won't want to do it so often that you get good at it, but fortunately I fell in love with it. And once you're good at something you do want to do it all the time!

In my teens I wrote absolutely tons of fanfic, and if you were to read it (you can't, it's not under my name and some of it is lost to the ages) you could actually see me improving, because I started out so terribly bad. We're talking "Multiple people speaking in one paragraph" bad. But I kept writing and took feedback and when I went to college I took classes (I had a kind of unofficial minor in playwriting, including having several short plays produced) and when I came back to fandom after college I was...decent. And this you can trace, if you start reading at the start of my AO3 account where all my fanfic since 2003 is stashed; you can see I used to be more awkward in my prose, my pacing wasn't as good, what I considered relevant to include for the story wasn't as polished as it is now.

So, there are almost five million words on my AO3 account, which doesn't include anything I wrote before 2003; I'm forty-five and started writing when I was just shy of fifteen. This will be my thirtieth year writing fiction in April. If you spend that much time writing, even if you don't necessarily TRY to improve, you will learn and grow. And you learn how your own creative process works and how to wrestle with that, so you become consistent simply because you gain a kind of mental muscle-memory.

The thing is, quality and consistency is nice, but it's not necessary to enjoy either fandom or fanfic, or even writing. If you love to write, that's the best thing; you will bring yourself joy. It's one reason I never even considered making a career as a writer, because I didn't want my joy to become my job. That's not to shit on professional writers by ANY means, I have several as friends and of course I admire many well-known authors. But for me, it was important to preserve the parts I loved best, and I didn't think I could do that and still try to get a paycheck from it.

So the trick of quality, consistent writing is to love it enough to do it until you develop your skills and grow as an artist. But the real trick of any artistic expression is to love it for itself, to put heart into your work, and to do everything you can to protect what gives you pleasure. Quality and consistency are nice but if you love what you do they really, eventually, cease to matter. :)

[obey-me-disaster]

I saw the Mammon with a clingy MC headcannons and was wondering if you could please write those for the rest of the brothers?

Sure thing ^-^

This is the first I got to write after the hiatus. It was such a nice thing to work on in order to get back into writing.

Demon brothers with a very clingy MC

Lucifer

As much as he would love to indulge you, he is a busy demon. He can't always be by your side and sometimes, he needs his alone time to get rid of his nerves.

Still, he tries to make time for you cause he would hate if you started to feel neglected because of his work.

Usually when he invites you over to his room to listen to music or to talk about 'important matters' it just means you'll get to be as clingy as you want with him.

He takes advantage of those times to let go of all the stress and just relax with his lover. If he drinks enough he might start venting about either his brothers or Diavolo and be generally more open.

Sometimes, when he is doing paperwork, he will let you sit on his lap to cuddle him. From time to time he will stop to check on you and give you a kiss.

Unless he is doing really important work, he will let himself be dragged away from his office by a clingy MC without putting too much of a fight. As much as he may try not to show it, he adores you and he would be more than happy to indulge a clingy MC

If he is in demon form at an event, he likes to wrap on of his wings around you to bring you closer to him.

Mammon

Already done here

Leviathan

He adores it but he is not used to it!

He isn't used to the attention, the affection, and all the spending time together.

He is an introvert, from time to time he needs time some time alone in order to recharge his social batteries. Tho, as time passes, some of the 'time alone sessions' can be 'spending time in the same room but doing different things in silence' sessions.

He adores all the cuddles and attention, but it will take him some time to get fully comfortable. He will go through some phases where he feels guilty for not being all that comfortable from the get go but that's nothing a little bit of reassurance won't solve.

He likes to wrap his tail around you when play games, either around on of your legs or waist.

He tries to convince you to either wear one of his hoodies or for you to give him one of your jackets/hoodies. He tries...but he always gets embarrassed before really saying anything.

Once he gets used to all of the attention and affection he will start being clingy too, and actually be open about it!

Satan

It would hit him pretty hard that someone wants to be that close to him in that way. Sure, there have probably been demons and witches alike that wanted to be close with him for various reasons, but this was the first time when he felt so calm and warm about it.

This feeling didn't really hit him at first, he would just be close to MC while he was reading. It really hit him one random day when he realized how little his wrath was screaming inside of him.

Whenever you decide to cuddle him he treats the same way as if a cat would sit on his lap, he is no longer allowed to move.

Would honestly take a clingy MC to different museums or exhibitions in order to both satisfy your clinginess and his thirst for knowledge.

He is quite a romantic demon from all those novels he has read, so a lot of the things you two do, especially on the days you're especially clingy, would remind him of scenes from his favourite books.

Asmodeus

No matter how clingy you may be, Asmo has you beat in that category. He is honestly the best brother for a clingy MC.

He is clingy himself, would welcome with open arms all of your affection and doesn't have any emotional baggage holding him back from being affectionate with you.

You two are basically never separated after a while. You two might as well share a room and a closet. He has no qualms about sharing clothes with you.

He likes to think about what activities would bring you even closer. And of course, there will be tons of photos, both for Asmo's enjoyment and for devilgram.

The poor guy gets so used to having you always by his side that if he has to go through a day without you he will start complaining that his affection levels are low. He will start crying about dying if you don't shower him in your affection, so go wait him in his room won't you?

Beelzebub

Would be really chill about a clingy MC. If they wanted to, he could just carry them around. He enjoys their attention and food tastes better when they are with him.

Working out? Chances are you are being used as one of his weights. Eating? Sitting in his lap. 10/10 guy to cling to.

He prefers to carry you around cause he is aware of his one track mind. If he gets too focused about either one of his hobbies, food or working out, he fears he wouldn't be able to give you as much attention as you need.

Belphegor

Be prepared to be his pillow 24/7. He will fully take advantage of you being clingy towards him to make you his nap partner.

You can't exactly get too mad at him either...you get to be clingy and he gets his sleep, with how nice and soft he feels chances are you'll fall asleep too.

Even when he isn't asleep, he likes to lean against you and generally be really close with you. He is probably as clingy as you are.

Uses his younger brother privileges to get his brothers to leave the two of you alone.

Honestly, a lot of the time it would be enough if he was able to sleep in the same room you're in, even if you aren't cuddled up with him, but if he can convince you to put off for later whatever you were working on why wouldn't he? He is the avatar of sloth after all.

[theyanderespecialist]

Abel's Baby Mama (Headcanons) Yandere Baby Daddy SCP-076/Abel X Pregnant Reader

[Hello, My Sexy Muffins! I am running late on writing this, so sorry if I am a bit rushed. Anyways let's do this! hope you enjoy this!]

(Disclaimer: Abel is most likely AROACE in canon and does not need or have the urge for or have a desire for Romantic or Sexual Relationships. But in this let's pretend the fighting machine can feel it kk? Anyway, he is not yandere in canon! This is just for fun and not to be taken seriously at all! Simping for fictional characters and yanderes is fine! Just do not be illegal or gross about it! Yanderes are not ideal partners to have in real life. Remember to separate fiction from reality and headcanon from canon! thank you!]

-Headcanons With Abel Aka SCP 076-2 X Pregnant Reader From the SCP Foundation Online Community-

.Abel had never wanted anyone in his life. That was until he met you. 

.he wanted you and wanted you to be pregnant with his children. 

.so he had been quick to impregnate you. 

.You are the woman of his desires and he would easily want to have offspring with you. 

.Which he will train them to be strong warriors.  

He would be the type of yandere to be very protective over you while you are pregnant. 

.He was raised being one of the first children of Adam and Eve. So he has some old-fashioned ways. 

.Such as being the provider and the protector and that as the woman in his life, you needed to have the children and be his support. 

.So he would want some of those traditional values. 

.His WAY protective side is extreme! In which he does not like to have anyone near you. 

.He also does not like you away from him so he would want to have you by his side at all times. 

.He would end up doing his best to work with the foundation so he can get his containment cell upgraded and that he can have a nice little home for you, him, and both of your children. 

.If anyone tries to get too close to you he gets very possessive and pulls you close to him glaring at the person. 

.If the foundation tried to take you away from him he would go on a murdering spree until he can get to you and keep you safe and sound. 

.He also only wants you and becomes very jealous and very serious. 

.Who does not want to share you with anyone and he demands to be with you in all doctor appointments. 

.If those doctors did anything wrong they would at least have a broken hand or worse case be dead. 

.He would also do a shit ton of research on a healthy pregnancy as he knows that times have changed and he wants the best for his children. 

.He does not mind if the babies are girls or boys, he will treat them the same and raise them to be warriors. 

.Of course, he is going to be protective of them as well and not expect them to go into battle until they are adults. 

.He is realistic with this. 

.When you have morning sickness he is not grossed out about it, instead, he is helping you feel good and holding your hair back. 

.He also would take care of you in any way shape or form. 

.May it be cooking healthy meals for you, and massaging any aches you have. 

.He unlocks a very caregiving side as he is obsessed and in love with you, and you have the amazing job of carrying future warriors. 

.So he needs to be the man and to support you when you have the job to carry his kids. 

.He paces a lot when you do have to leave without him. 

.He cannot stand being away from you and would sometimes break out of containment to find you. 

.He is still very murderous but being with you does mellow him out a bit. 

.Which the foundation takes advantage of. If they can control Abel with his girlfriend aka baby mama aka you and his future kids then they will throw you to him and he will be able to keep you. 

.Your fate is sealed once Abel knows you are pregnant, so maybe do not tell him that you are. 

[YASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS another chapter done! I hope that you all enjoyed this! 

I will maybe do a scenario on my youtube ASMR reading of this! So check it out and stay sexy, all of my sexy muffins!] 

[livefromthedas]

That Time Flirting Accidentally Worked

(Also up on AAO3, here)

Summary:

Rook Ingellvar, famously a dumpster fire amongst Mourn Watchers, manages to fall face-first into dating one Emmrich Volkarin.

Nice.

Notes:

I swear to God I intended to start DATV fanfic writing for my Lucanis/Rook playthrough... but this came out instead. Strike while the hyper-focus iron is hot, I guess.

I tried to write this Rook (F, Mourn Watcher) as vaguely as possible while still making sure she was reflection of the character in my head, so hopefully that works for readers.

Please note that while I'm utilizing quite a bit of canon knowledge about Navarra and Navarran culture, here, there is also a ton about the place that we just do no know, so a lot of information here is extrapolated (aka, pulled directly out of my butt.) I had fun though, at least, exploring more of the place, and creating my own little pocket of extra romance content for Emmrich and Rook as well.

And yeah, this will probably get spicy. Just a heads up.

———————————

Chapter 1: Hot Date for a Hot Mess

The needling fire of over-exertion kept a purposeful momentum in Rook’s stride the entire journey home from their latest magic-riddled battle with the Venatori in Arlathan.

That fight, deep in the autumn hewn forest - an apparent ambush - had been jarring and brutal. Had Davrin not been with them, with Assan to serve as their own surprise attack from the sky, Rook was quite certain that, for all of their combined competency, she and Emmrich Volkarin may very well have met a swift, very bloody end that day.

There had just been so many of them - Scarlet scythe’s crackling with arcane energy, and corrupted magic churning in the air like a turbulent storm. Then again, when it came to Venatori, there always seemed to be a limitless supply.

Rook breathed in deep as she strode through the Vi’revas - the eluvian unique to the Dreadwolf’s hideaway in the Fade - close on Emmrich’s heels. One moment they were in the Crossroads, wild and untethered to reality as it was. The next, they were striding into the cool, dark nethers of the Lighthouse.

“Ugh,” Davrin grumbled, reaching to pull something that looked suspiciously like viscera from his hair as he strode through the eluvian’s surface in the pair of necromancers' wakes, “I’m going to go wash up. See you two at dinner?”

Rook smirked bemusedly - of all of the blood the Gray Warden was soaked through with, Maker forbid a bit of viscera get in the handsome elf’s hair. She nearly went to nod, when Emmrich spun on his heels to face the pair of them.

“Actually,” the Professor poised, hands clasping before him as his bangles glimmered in the unnatural light of the corridor, “Would you be so kind as to let Lucanis know to be expecting two less settings at the table this evening? Rook and I will be dining in Navarra.”

Rook’s eyebrows rose curiously - this was news to her.

“Yeah, no problem,” Davrin grinned. He gestured a hand over one shoulder as he made for the door, “You kids have fun.”

Kids . The word lingered humorously in the air - Emmrich barely stifled a chuckle at it, even in the gray warden’s absence.

“A trip home is a nice surprise,” Rook mused, mischief and curiosity a glint in her eyes.

The senior necromancer, dashing as ever, offered her an arm, and she was quick to place a hand at his elbow as he guided them from the room, and up the stairs.

“Forgive me, darling, I had hoped to ask you properly once we were settled in,” Emmrich said, gloved hand resting warmly upon the slender hand she’d offered him, “Reservations at the Pnemoix are scarce at best this time of year, and I received word of an opening just prior to our departure to Arlathan.”

“Yeah, that got chaotic rather quickly,” Rook admitted, ever as tired, but relieved they were alive to tell the tale at all. For all of her raised hackles that needled up her spine over the ambush in the woods, a tickle of excitement wiggled its way into her belly, “And I’ve heard of the Pnemoix!” Her sudden excitement was palpable. Word amongst her peers back at the Necropolis had it that the Pnemoix was one of the most exclusive- and enchanting - dining experiences in all of Navarra City. It was not far from the city’s main entrance to the Grand Necropolis itself, in fact. Emmrich could scarcely stifle the humorous glimmer in his eyes as the bounce in her step hastened as they strode. He finally slipped a chuckle when her expression then screwed with uncertainty, “Aren’t they ridiculously expensive, though?”

“Hardly any concern of yours, my darling,” Emmrich laughed.

Cresting the top of the stairs that overlooked the Lighthouse’s eerie library, the Professor stopped before the long hall that led to his study. Rook watched curiously as something shifted in his demeanor - warm laughter settling into something warmer still, slender hands and their menagerie of golden rings gracing her arms with an almost reverential care.

“I had hoped, should the temptation arise,” Rook felt a wildfire blush ignite to the tips of her ears at his sudden unusually intimate word choice, before he’d so much as finished his sentence, “We may enjoy the privacy an overnight at home might afford us.”

Emmrich’s grin broadened at the blatant blush that flooded the young woman’s typically cocksure expression, a softness in his gaze despite the hint of mischief that lingered there, “You so scarcely find a moment alone in the Lighthouse, my love. You’ll forgive an old man his selfish desire for attention undivided.”

“I-I… of course,” Rook managed, despite her blush, a dizzying flutter in her chest and her tongue-tie of nerves.

“And the decision is entirely yours,” her breath caught in her throat as he pressed a kiss upon her forehead, one hand affectionately upon the back of her head, “But do consider it, darling, hmm?” He seemed absolutely tickled at Rook’s uncharacteristic shyness as she nodded, green eyes alight with racing thoughts. This was hardly a woman prone to speechlessness, after all. “I’m going to change, and request Neve look after Manfred until we return. Meet me at the Vi’Revas when you’re ready.”

Rook managed a nod before Emmrich swept off airily, stride as confident as ever.

——————-

“Okay… Oookay,” Rook finally managed to breathe again once the ancient chamber doors of her quarters sealed shut behind her. Gaze darting around the dancing light of the aquarium that dominated the far wall, she huffed a ragged sigh, palm to her forehead.

Embarrassment immediately flooded her veins.

“He finally brings it up and you… freeze? Seriously?” She groaned morosely.

At best, Rook was disappointed. It was hardly how she’d imagined reacting to such an opportunity, after all. The Rook of her imagination was unflappable in her confidence - *she* surely would have managed an air of alluring …. *Something* in response to such a proposition. A wicked flirt. A lingering kiss. A clever quip of any make or model at all.

But no. Only overwhelm. Rook had been flooded with a timidness utterly foreign to her usually fearless brogue.

Scythe-wielding Venatori, raging demons, blighted gods… Such larger than life dangers too surreal and too vast to seem anything shy of absurd? That she could handle with a finesse and fearlessness that defied logic. It was precisely why Varric had brought her into the fold in the fight against Fen’Harel to begin with.

“But actually have the fellow you’ve been pining over for the last decade make a pass at you, and your brain breaks ? Maferath’s balls.”

The sordid swear she’d picked up from Varric early in their journeys together at least managed a smile from the woman. She shoved off from the door, kicking off muddied boots and unbuckling the patina’d gloves of her Mourn Watcher gauntlets as she went.

Rook had had little choice but to be honest with the Professor once her shoot-for-the-moon flirtations had, to her own genuine surprise, actually succeeded in swaying his interest so many weeks prior.

This was all… very new to the junior Mourn Watcher. So much of her time growing up had been spent clawing desperately for a sense of self. For the sort of identity that a complete lack of kith, kin or clan denied her for the whole of recent memory. Certainly until one Varric Tethras had swaggered his way into her life and corralled her under his wing.

Something as complicated as dating just never found its foothold with her focus, amid so many years of simply trying to find herself.

She was an elf in a largely human community, a non magic user - despite her endless fascination with the craft - in a society that prized its mages above all. Both facts of which pushed many of her superiors throughout her collegiate studies to blow off and even mock her ambitions towards more magic-focused areas of study.

Rook was an academic at heart - A voracious learner and reader. But for all of her passion, she was still very much an outsider. She was the foundling discovered abandoned deep within the Necropolis - lucky to have been found alive at all - Taken in by a kind and doting pair of elderly Mortalitasi, Gunter and Eloise Ingellvar, who had even gone as far as bequeathing their inheritance to her upon the last of their dual deaths some years later.

But they had gone too soon - Rook had barely been 12 when the old woman had died - and she was once again left as a ward of the Necropolis and its Watchers, who seemed to see less value in an orphaned elf with no magical talents to speak of. Frequently outright denied access to her preferred areas of study due to their prized and limited availability (such courses should be reserved for mages who might make the most use of them after all, and the university’s donors were rife with promising young mages as heirs) she was relegated, instead, to training as a fighter. A protector. A watcher of the Watchers themselves.

Just one extra corpse between demons and the ones whose work actually matters, more like, she thought. She swung open her ornate wardrobe, eyes scanning her limited choice in clothing critically as her thoughts poured from one memory to the next.

Those days were rife with turmoil. Rook had volleyed equally between hours of grueling fight and defense training, classes in basic sciences, necromancy, anatomy, funerary preparations and the Fade, and time dedicated purely to stirring up shit in the streets of Navarra City.

Fights. Petty theft. Stirring up chaos in the market square with a prank or three - one of which had, to her own amusement and pride to that very day, saw a surprisingly large number of bees in a leading role.

Throughout her years of collegiate learning, Rook carried the rage of a clever mind stifled and of dreams dashed, and it had landed her under the threadbare patience and steely gaze of the headmaster more times than she could count. That the Mourn Watch had been tasked with her care as much as her training was likely the only reason she hadn’t been thrown out for good.

It also hadn’t hurt that Rook had proven incredibly adept at combat despite her general lack of interest in the task (outside of a good tavern fistfight, at least.) There was also the curiosity that was her study habits. Her grades in basic courses were passable at best from sheer lack of interest, yet when time and little pockets of determination allowed, she could be found holed up in the Necropolis’s expansive library for hours, even days on end, pouring over every tomb her low-level clearance would allow, creating many tombs further of dense, meticulously detailed notes.

She was at least trying, in her own way, her superiors knew. And where their interest in her full potential failed her, her own thirst for learning minded the gap. Even if she was denied the chance to pursue her major of choice… lectures in the Grand Necropolis’s halls of learning were as free and frequent as the availability and seating of its various expansive lecture halls would allow.

Those educational sermons were hardly for the faint of heart or feeble of mind. They required many dedicated hours, copious notes, and a level of existing understanding of necromancy, the occult and Navarran history as a whole that *should* have been enough to bar a student of Rook’s study tract access by sheer lack of access to advanced classes alone.

But Rook had done the work. Had soaked up every scrap and parcel of knowledge she could, entirely on her own. And in each and every lecture, perched dutifully in the shadows at the back of the room, she soared.

Which was precisely where the good Professor had graced her peripherals, time and time again.

Even nearly a decade prior, Professor Emmrich Volkarin was something of a legend on campus. Prodigiously intelligent and equally skilled in both oration and genuine fondness for the eager young minds he fostered, Rook was hardly immune from the childish swooning over the otherwise utterly unattainable genius that captivated his students with every speech and demonstration.

“Volkarin’s hangers-on.”

Johanna Hezenkoss’s recent jeer at Rook’s expense still made her cheeks run hot. Rook had never been that - certainly not as the insult Hezenkoss intended.

But Rook and Emmrich were both well aware of whom the half-Litch referred to.

Hair a little darker and warm eyes a little bit brighter then, The Professor was too clever and adept at reading people around him to have remained oblivious to the fact that not only were the large majority of doe-eyed students trailing him from office to lectern and back largely of the female variety, but they were also almost always a bit more coy than was comfortable to be sharing a room with for too long. It was always impressive, then, to Rook, just how coolly and kindly said attentions were quite unanimously blown off by Emmrich himself.

He was never once cruel or condescending, but ever the consummate professional. He paid his students’ motivations no mind outside of whatever question he was fielding, or what knowledge he wished to impart, either.

Rook later overheard whispers among a gaggle of gossiping young mages in the privy that, apparently, “half of the fun” of flirting with the man to begin with was trying to “find a crack” in their charming yet unflappably stoic Professor’s perfectly tailored facade.

Of which there was nary a one, as far as Rook knew at the time. The man simply did not budge.

Which was why, despite never having had the stones to so much as approach Professor Volkarin with a question before meeting with him in the catacombs with Bellara months prior, and with nearly ten years of confidence that only incredibly hard work and some life experience could provide, Rook was genuinely floored when her own good-humored and (mostly) unserious swings at flirting with the man *actually worked.*

Rook had only dared shoot her shot with the man with the full confidence that in all likelihood (and at absolute worst) he would simply glance past the attention with his usual jovial kindness. She took a swing at it for younger-Rook, who would have thought it the coolest thing ever, future-Rook finding the sort of confidence her younger self found so foreign.

And the man actually expressed interest. Just fully (warmly as ever but with a degree of coyness Rook had no idea actually existed prior) stated that if, in fact, her projected interest went beyond mere flattery… he was down.

“Hell of a bullseye on the first draw, there, Ingellvar,” she had mused to herself and inevitably shared with Emmrich multiple times since, much to the Professor’s amusement.

Rook pulled the only pretty, non-Mourn Watch related article of clothing she owned - a deep purple gown and its immaculately tailored overcoat - from the wardrobe, before clipping the doors shut with her heel.

Naive shock aside, it wasn’t as though Rook hadn’t been equally delighted by Emmrich’s unexpected response. She had become even more enamored with the fellow in the past many months, as he spoke with her not as a student but as a colleague. An equal.

He adored her thoughts and her intellectual curiosity, and had said as much - often. He was ever the academic, as enthusiastic about answering any question she had as she was to learn the answer. But he was also genuinely interested in all of the knowledge she had gathered in the past ten years - Her interests in Navarran archeology within the ever-ancient Necropolis halls. His in Necromancy and the Fade. It had become a frequent, deeply adored line of conversation between the two of them, in fact - just how often their individual fields of study crossed in application.

Emmrich Volkarin was every bit as charming as his passionate yet professional demeanor would imply. But what Rook came to learn very quickly upon reconnecting with the man was that, on a personal level, he was one of the most compassionate individuals Rook had ever met. He cared deeply, about everything - particularly, it seemed, about the ragtag troop of adventurers she and Neve had since managed to assemble. At 52 years of age, he also, as it turned out, had zero qualms about dating someone - regardless of gender persuasion - over 20 years his junior. He’d simply taken his work as an educator far too seriously when he was young enough to find any interest in university students, let alone misuse the power dynamic between teacher and pupil - and they had, decades later, well since lost their appeal.

So, now, here she was. Two months into the most absurdly romantic courtship she could imagine, given the sheer chaos that surrounded them otherwise.

Fancy dinners. Time spent exploring the Necropolis to feel more grounded - that little bit of home going a long way to keeping them both fixed on the battles that just kept on coming. A recent night stroll through the streets of Navarra City during the ancestral pageants, their darkly artful city glistening with lanterns and wisps.

Emmrich Volkarin was ever a man of his word, too. Early on, when a bashful Rook mentioned her lack of experience in any such relationship, he had promised they’d take things slow, and they absolutely had. Endeared and warm as they were, his kisses were chaste, and his presence around her respectful of her space and autonomy. It had only been since she had started pushing boundaries that he had reciprocated in kind.

Longer, deeper kisses. Tousled hair. Hands wandering with far more bravery - and far more urgency - from both parties, amidst long nights full of even longer conversations.

The cracks in Emmrich Volkarin’s perfectly tailored facade were showing. And, Rook grinned to herself despite the blush reaching her ears, they were admittedly * delicious.*

Rook fastened the copper skull-shaped buttons upon her overcoat before fishing for Varric’s shaving mirror and checking her hair.

She wasn’t entirely sure how she’d expected the acceleration of their relationship to go. Perhaps more spontaneously, and likely in the Lighthouse, despite neither of them having particularly comfortable quarters - his with little more than a cot to sleep on that was otherwise hidden away, and her own space often as chilly as being overlooked by an enormous deep water aquarium would imply.

She certainly didn’t expect it to turn into a Pnemoix-worthy event.

It was, frankly, the first time Emmrich had taken the lead on the direction of relations between them. He had planned every romantic gesture their messy schedules and frequent travels would allow, sure, but every acceleration where intimacy had been concerned had been entirely on Rook.

But, it felt right, the timing.

She wondered if this was his way of saying he felt the same.

Rook slipped on a pair of gold-rimmed glasses (her vision never had been the best, but she’d only just taken to wearing them more faithfully at Emmrich’s encouragement, and insistence that he thought them, “Positively charming.”)

With a flutter of excitement in her chest Rook spared a careless hope that she might make it all the way downstairs to the Vi’Revas without any of their friends asking enough questions to rattle her nerves anymore than they already squirmed.

——————-

The journey was quick and blessedly uninterrupted. Punctual as ever, Emmrich had already arrived. He turned to greet her as she strode his way, having been surveying the towering Eluvian with an air of curiosity just moments before.

Lean and immaculately dapper as ever, golden rings and bangles over luxurious shades of black and jade, a smile swept his features so genuine that it stole a smile from her own.

“Rook,” he mused warmly, “You look exquisite.”

“Could very well say the same to you, Professor,” Rook teased, hand once again gracing the elbow he lent her.

“Shall we?”

[sstormyskyess]

Still Woozy

author's note: i was listening to my still woozy playlist and got the inspo to write some headcanons based on the songs i thought fit the boys! also wanted to write my first piece with alejandro so here it is 👍 [side note: all the songs refer to a woman/fem listener but for the sake of this, the reader is gn!]

cw: nothing, just fluff!

word count: 800+

TF-141 + Alejandro x GN!Reader

Simon “Ghost” Riley [Cooks]

♡ Ghost is a little clueless when it comes to romance and the things that come with it, having been in a toxic home for his younger years. Most of his ideas about romantic relationships come from the very few movies/shows featuring happy couples he’s seen, so his ideas on how to handle a real relationship are scarce and sometimes a bit misconstrued.

♡ But once he finds the one he loves, he’s ready and willing to try his best at figuring things out as he goes. Regardless, he’ll still be fairly lost in the early stages of a relationship.

♡ But don’t get it mistaken—if he’s in a relationship, he’s absolutely head over heels in love, and he’ll do his very best to keep everything working smoothly, even if that means messing up every now and then. He would rather die than hurt you, so be prepared for him to be asking a ton of questions; you may need to reassure him frequently to remind him that just him trying is enough.

John “Soap” MacTavish [Get By]

♡ Soap is a bit of a goofball in a committed romantic relationship, but it’s all for the sake of his partner because he lives to see them happy more than anything else.

♡ He loves to see you happy and practically any time he notices you not feeling your best, he’ll do what he can to bring your spirits up, whether that be taking you out on a nice, fancy date or just staying in and getting you to spare some time for yourself. He has a special place in his mind to remember all of the things that make you smile, like your favorite foods/restaurants and the media you like to engage with.

♡ As referenced in the song, though, he’s made a fool of himself for the sake of cheering you up a few times. It makes you feel bad, but it is quite funny watching him do the silliest things to make you laugh.

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick [Get Down]

♡ Gaz is a very dedicated partner and he would do damn near anything for them. He’s made it clear to you on multiple occasions that he can handle pampering you with anything you please, even if you tell him you don’t want to overwork him.

♡ He’s by no means a materialistic person, but he loves to spend his money on you. When he’s on leave, he loves taking you on vacations, big or small. He’ll buy you any little thing you may have your eyes on or have mentioned wanting in the past, because what else will he do with the money he gets from his job? After all, before you came into his life, he was a fairly frugal man, only spending money on what’s really necessary. Now, though, you’re his only real necessity, meaning you get spoiled one way or another.

♡ He also loves it when you get clingy and adores when you’re all over him like your life depends on it. It never gets overbearing for him and he wouldn’t trade the world for your love and attention.

John Price [Wolfcat]

♡ Despite being a rigidly authoritative person outside his home, when Price is alone with his partner in the safety of his own home, he is absolutely whipped. He’s a homebody at heart and he loves filling a domestic role in his intimate relationships.

♡ He’s most certainly a quality time enjoyer and he spends a good amount of time planning little activities for the two of you to engage in while he’s home on leave. He’ll try to mask it as him simply trying to keep himself occupied in place of the strict schedule he’s accustomed to on base, but it’s obvious to anyone that knows him well enough that he’s obsessed with being by your side.

♡ Not to mention, he loves a partner that can put him in his place when needed, since he knows he can be a little headstrong and stubborn. Disagreements turn into arguments, but he knows when to shut up with you because you’re very good at reminding him that he’s not invulnerable to being wrong.

Alejandro Vargas [Habit]

♡ Alejandro is a romantic man even if his work often comes first. But, if he had it his way, he would be spending all his waking moments with his partner. His carefully manufactured distance between his work and family has him feeling insecure about the stability of his relationships, but he always comes back to you, no matter what happens.

♡ He doesn’t fall in love quickly, always wanting to make sure that he’s making a sound decision on who he’s going to lavish with his affections. But he’ll be glued to you once he’s finally comfortable in his choice to settle down with you. He doesn’t do frivolity; everything he does is done with purpose and his love life is no different.

♡ He’ll also put in extra effort for you to have a good support system while he’s away so you never feel lonely, likely with his family. He has plenty of family to go around and he’ll use that to his advantage to keep you comfortable even without him in your presence.

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

[shockinglyangel]

THE BEGINNING OF THE IRRESISTIBLE - TOM RIDDLE x reader

MATURE, Warnings, Virgin!Tom, Virgin!Reader, Unprotected sex, Shit ton of narration.

SUMMERY: You’re doing your DADA homework with Tom when all the sudden he becomes a little less interested in hexes, and a lot more interested in you.

NOT PROOFREAD

You were sat at the desk in Tom's dorm, an organised chaos painting the delicate wood, parchment splayed out, some ink dribbles showing the intension and concentration of what you were doing. You scribbled down another few things, dusting off the side of your hand with your other hand's fingers, not wanting to further smudge the words on the paper.

It wasn't necessarily uncommon for you to be in Tom's dorm, you two were put together in a Defence Against The Dark Arts project, so you'd been spending a fair amount of time by his side throughout the past few weeks. Tom's dorm was always very well put together, he had a lot of space since he had no one to share it with, the walls decorated in a dark shade of green to show the commitment to his house — although Tom rather disliked the scheme. His bed sheets were dark, black to be exact. He'd come into a large sum of money unexpectedly during the summer, when asked about it he told people that it was an inheritance from his late grandparents. With this money he had been able to cover the expensive of some nice silk sheets for his bed, along with some pillows to accompany it.

You turned to look at him, your eyes traveling over his face as he stares at your handwriting on the paper, something he was trying to learn was what someone's writing style could mean — he was critical and observational like that. "Well I think that shall do it for our hexes section, is there a spell you would prefer to focus on for the jinxes?"

Tom lifted his eyes from the paper, moving his head to face yours. His eyes never quite gave away what his emotions were hiding under the mask of his face, but they were a rather nice sight to see. "Impedimenta could be of our interest."

"A spell to slow someone down to prepare an attack?" You paused, bringing the feather of the quill to your lips, brushing it over the pigmented hue in contemplation. "I am not against the suggestion."

The Riddle boy — or more alike to a man, nods his head with one simple movement, not wishing to overdo it and show too much involvement in the work you two are doing together. "Then that shall do it."

"Although," you begin, turning your body on his chair to face him better, wanting to have him a more invested part of the conversation, and figuring your attention was the only way to get him to be so. "I rather enjoy Levicorpus, it may be overused, but it is such a classic."

Tom failed to see such an argument against his option, but he brushed it aside, if you wanted to work on the Levicorpus, then he supposed you would. He didn't want to say anything, he was too busy trying to understand the feelings in his body, the rushing through his veins, and maybe other areas of his body.

His flesh was burning, and he truly wasn't quite sure as to why. Riddle is not incompetent, nor oblivious to those bodily functions, but one so overwhelming, one that he cannot push down or dismiss with a simple thought of something else? Now that was confusing. He felt his breath get tighter in his throat, like it had morphed into a piece of glass and had began to scrape the inside of his oesophagus, such a similar, yet unfamiliar sensation. Too much for someone with little experience.

He thought about it for a moment as you looked away to get back to your work, your hand so delicately holding the quill, the way the feather dances along with your movements; so precious, so graceful. So you. Tom brought his hand up, allowing his heart to take control of his body. He reached out for your face, placing but only a finger to your chin and using the pressure to bring your face back to his.

The act of his finger, even if only one, was so intimate, and intimidating all in one. If the touch made up of only one bone could have your heart shoot up into your mouth, what could two or possibly three do? You dropped the quill, placing it down on the parchment as your head was moved to face him.

Both of your chests had somehow managed to move in unison, like your hearts were beating in a similar rhythm, like everything up to this moment had you so disconnected, but now you are one. Keeping your eyes on him, you watched his move down to his finger which then became two, traveling the intensive digits down your neck and to your tie. He added his thumb, messaging it down the fabric of the green, striped elongated triangular shape.

At this point you couldn't help but look down, his hand making it's journey to the slip of your tie, holding it between his thumb and middle finger, loosening it from around your neck before giving it a pull. You looked closely as the tie was removed from around your colar, watching as he places it on the floor.

It was as if all of your formality had gone from your figure as the piece of fabric was taken from you, something so exciting yet confusing, your body begging for more answers.

Tom's fingers didn't stop, moving back to your shirt and undoing the top button, causing you to lift your head up for better access. He blinked for a moment as the dip of your neck was revealed to him, his newfound mass of blinking making it seem as if he was a victorian man seeing a pair of ankles for the first time. A piece of your skin; so unimportant and small, yet such the thing to affect his put together demeanour.

His eyes shot between yours and the shirt, his fingers not faltering as they continued to undo your buttons, his gaze becoming more fixed on your skin as it was revealed. Tom was a starving man, someone with little to no intimacy, never to know the feeling of a warm body under or beside his, but God, did he crave it.

Riddle swallowed as he undid the final button, unsure of what to say. There were no words he could think of, his brain to scattered and disorganised to find the sentence he should be speaking. You were the same, your chest moving with rasher movements, deeper breaths digging the oxygen into your lungs as if you could consume the scent of him there and then.

You could see in his eyes that there was more than a desire of the simplicity of removing your tie, or the drive for his fingers to unbutton each and every button of your shirt. There was more, always more. You both knew it, and you weren't to be the one to stop it.

You were quick to take the initiative, looking down at his lips before back to his eyes and finally, finally leaning in, the plushness of your mouths crashing together in a feverish dance, a destiny untold in the stars, known to everyone around you, and yet hidden from your eyes.

He breathed desperately against your lips, his hands moving to connect with your cheeks, cupping you in his grasp as if he would lose you if you were to slip out of his touch. His hands were rougher, colder against your skin, the temperature a stark contrast to your own.

Tom's tongue grazed your bottom lip, as if silently asking for the approval of taking things further. You accepted almost immediately, allowing his tongue to enter past your lips and into your mouth, finding yours and fighting with it as if he had something to conquer. You to conquer. He slowly but surely allowed his hands, which were almost trembling from uncertainty to move to your shoulders, pushing your already opened shirt down your arms, his palms taking in the newer feel of your arms and the prominent shoulder blades as he pulls your shirt down, tossing it to the side and leaving your torso in only your bra.

You took his initiative of a sign for you to take action as well, your hands leaving your side of the desk and wandering over to him, to his tie. Your hands fumbled for a moment, struggling to remove his tie before triumphantly pulling it off and letting it fall from your grip to the dorm floor beneath the two of you. Next was his white button up, but you wasted no time to undo it, Tom not allowing you as he pulled away from the kiss after you successfully undid the top four buttons, his impatience getting the better of him as he reached down to pull it up over his head before reconnecting his lips with yours.

It was like he was hungry for you, as if he could not survive without a taste. He allowed not one of you to catch your breath during the kiss, or even in the moments between kisses. Perhaps he thought the added oxygen would make your heads clearer and cause more logic to your actions. He did not want to think logically, he did not want to think at all.

"Get on the bed." His voice was slightly quieter from his usual tone, his lungs reeling in the need of air, but all he needed was you.

You nodded quickly, moving to sit on the bed, him not wasting even a second before following after you, his hand coming down onto your thigh, pushing up underneath your skirt, causing shivers to arise on both of your skins. You both knew where this was going, although neither of you were strong enough to, nor wanted to stop it.

He grabbed you by your hips, his hands sliding up to your waist as he lifted you up, placing you further back on the bed. His mind was filled with the desire of the evening, all the ideas in his mind spinning like an unstoppable wheel of destiny, and it would not stop until he had you, he could not force it to halt until the two of you were corrupted by dark desires and the feel of one another's body.

It had to be you.

He had grown needy in your absence, those nights alone when the only thing that was left to do was to lay in bed with only the memory of you, his hand doing the work that he had so desperately wanted you to do, his mind imagining it was you, it could only be you.

He crawled over you, placing his knee in between your legs to part them, his lips finding yours another time as his hand went back to your thigh, running over the burning flesh of your leg, and oh so desperately wanting to go further. His free hand dipped under your back, causing you to arch it for him, allowing just enough space for his touch to travel down the skin of your back, truly not wanting a single piece of you to miss out from the feel of him.

He found the attachment of your bra, unclasping the material with a slight pop, his lips pulling away from yours to look at you, so open and vulnerable for him, and only him. It was no mystery to Tom that you hadn't done anything like this before, the way you allowed him to guide you, to instruct you and tell you what to do. He knew you were a stranger to the touch of a man, especially a man that wanted you as bad as Riddle did.

His hand made its way back to your front, his large palm placed flag against your upper abdomen before turning around to allow his two middle fingers to hook under the middle part of your bra, pulling it ip in anticipation. You helped him, your own hands going to your shoulders to remove the straps, pulling them down and allowing him to do the rest.

Tom's brain could've short circuited the moment he saw your bare chest, your eyes displaying a look of vulnerability and nerves in them as his eyes revelled in the exposure of your body to him. He traced a hand over one of your breasts, his palm riding over the hardened nipple, his body reacting to the arousal of your own.

The tent in his trousers was all but noticeable, it blended in too well with the black colour, however it was uncommon to see him wear any other colour, he was quite picky like that. Regardless of how visible it was to the untrained eye, he wanted you to know the impact you and your body had on him and his. He reached down for your hand, taking it from your stomach where it rested. He swiped it over his bare chest, trying desperately not to give away how needy he is for you, and how much he desires your touch. Then finally, he ran your hand down to his bulge, his fingers wrapped around your wrist in a commanding way as he allowed you to touch his most intimate area.

Your breath was quick to get caught in your throat another time, even inside the casing of his trousers, behind a whole fabric prison, you could tell how large he was; and how hard you were going to struggle with this — but you were both learning, neither of you had done this before.

Riddle grabbed your skirt, slipping his fingers under the sides of your waistband and pulling in hopes to remove it from your body. You let out a small laugh at his anticipation, the look on his face as he realised he couldn’t pull it from you. “It’s a button up.” You spoke up, breaking the silence that he had created, or perhaps that was a joint task.

He looked at your slightly frustrated before searching around for the buttons, using his fingers as an anchor, waiting for them to hook onto something he could unfasten. “Where the bloody hell is it?” Tom was at his wits end now, he had you so close, yet so far due to these darn buttons. The desire in his body was brewing over, his veins more prominent on his arms.

You moved your hand down to your side, showing him the buttons before undoing them with your fingers, it was only two buttons, but Tom’s feelings were too overwhelming to take the time to find them.

His mind was anything but clear when he slipped your skirt off in a moment of liberation, a small — very small smile across his normally harsher looking face as he removed the fabric from your body, leaving you in only your underwear, shoes, and socks.

Perhaps he didn’t quite think through the order.

One of his feet went to the back of the other as he slipped off his down shoes, his feet then finding yours and successfully removing them, listening to the almost deafening sound of your small heels clattering to the ground, scratching his brain in the worst way.

His mind became more aware as he leaned back up, the buckle on his belt louder than it had ever been, the buttons on his trousers somewhat harder to undo, the ticking of the clock beside his bed almost mocking him for doing this so late. He was only but an adult when he discovered the need to please, and the desire to be pleased anymore.

The ticking started to become louder, more aggressive, and he couldn’t allow himself to waste any more time pretending he doesn’t feel anything, that his apathetic mind was even so far removed from the intricacies of needing another for sexual pleasure. But he wasn’t, and he needed it now.

He removed his boxers hastily, before tapping the outer side of your thigh, silently ordering for you to lift your hips for him as his hands went to the waistband of your underwear, pulling them off in one swift motion and throwing them down to the pile of clothes below.

Tom had never been naked in front of anyone, not since he was a baby anyway. It was somewhat freeing, to have someone see everything he was quite proud of, he knew he wasn’t terrible to look at, he just didn’t prioritise it above other things.

He moved closer to you, placing his hands either side of your head, his arms holding him up over you, his eyes pining into yours as if looking for you to show signs of discomfort or unwillingness, so then he could stop himself from making possibly his greatest mistake. When you showed no emotions of uncontrollable vulnerability he looked down to where the two or you would connect if he was to move just another inch.

And then he did.

You looked at Tom as his eyes bore back into yours, his body finally connecting with your own like a missing key, he had unlocked something in you as his body pushed into yours, entering you seamlessly, your arousal aiding his movements as he did so. Your mind was blocked, as if the only thing you could think about in that moment was the man in front of you, on top of you, inside of you.

It was hard to stop yourself as your mouth fell open, his hips retracting before moving against yours again, trying to figure out for the first time what either of you liked. It was different, and expectedly slightly uncomfortable. His delicacy tearing past your innocence and corrupting you just how he had wanted to.

And yet he was still unsure of what he was doing. Sex is simple when you hear about it, read books about it, learn about it. But not knowing it from experience is something everyone has to learn, even the great Tom Riddle had to teach himself the ways of the body, and it seemed he was doing a fair enough job.

Tom had obviously read about it, how else is one supposed to keep their mind occupied when they do not desire to give into mindless, and meaningless debauchery their peers were so familiar with? It was the only way to keep that last string of remaining semblance and not snap, to not give into what his body craved.

But he failed today.

His body became faster, his movements more intentional and desperate, as if he knew what he was chasing and exactly how to get there. Your eyes closed as he hit those sensitive spots inside of you, the places that brought both pain and pleasure, and you wanted both. Your head tilted to the side, your cheek resting against the cold silk sheets on his bed.

“Look at me.” His voice spoke with a slight rasp along with a shake, his vulnerability almost captivating as you looked back at him, your eyes staring directly into his. His body never stopped its movements, the hair on his head almost bouncing along with his thrusts, tipping forward as if gravity begged his soft locks touch you. He pushed his head forward as his biceps felt your fingers on them, placing his face in the crook of your neck, his lips gracing your skin as he murmured against it. “Merlin.”

It took every ounce of your self control not to find your orgasm in that very moment, the way his lips touched your skin, the sound of his words against your neck, the way his body felt — God, he was captivating.

He pulled back up, moving himself so he could kiss you again, his hips finding a comfortable rhythm as the sounds of his bed grow louder and louder, as if the poor thing was begging not to be fucked upon. Tom showed no care for the bed’s voice, nor for the clock ticking and timing his every move, his mind too torn to focus on anything besides your body on his, the way you felt around him, and how thrilling it felt to be inside of you.

The two of you were nearing the edge, your bodies dancing together as you moved against him, trying to help him find your pleasure points, although he was not doing a bad job at it. You let out a string of moans, his lips continuing their assault against your as his hips picked up their pace, his movements becoming sloppier as he found himself arriving at the peak of pleasure.

You felt the same, your lips failing to move against his as your breath came out in more laboured gasps, your body almost feeling like it’s levitating as his touch took you to another world.

You couldn’t stop yourself when it hit, your mouth opening as your face contorted. Your body shook as your eyes forced themselves shut, the pleasure was becoming overwhelming, you had hit the most anticipated part of the evening, and you had only Tom to thank.

Riddle’s head moved back to your neck, not wanting you to see the face he would make as he finished inside of you, spilling everything he has left from his body, his breath coming out a huff against your skin as he fills you for the first time. He let out another almost groan sounding vocalisation as you arched your back at the feeling of his aftermath stilling inside of you, his body coming to a halt as a wave of realisation washes over him, his mind suddenly more in tune with the sound of the clock ticking, or the breathing of you underneath him.

He had lost his virginity, and he had taken yours.

Neither of you dared to even look at each other, not wanting this to become any more real than it already had, your hands slipping from his arms and onto the bed as you tried to catch your breath, and catch your thoughts along with it.

However, the one thing you did both share in this moment was the knowledge that this was not going to be the first time, that now there was some reason for uncontrollable passion amongst your disliking for one another, and that you now had no excuse not to settle your arguments in a way much more fulfilling.

[yamujiburo]

POKEMON SERIES RANKED (IMO)

I get this question a lot and haven't made an updated list with Journeys

Original Series (S1-S5)

Sun & Moon (S20-S22)

Chronicles (S0)

Diamond and Pearl (S10-S13)

Advanced (S6-S9)

Journeys (S23-S25)

Black & White (S14-S16)

XY (S17-S19)

Original Series (S1-S5)

OS had that first season charm. Very unpolished, still finding its footing but super enjoyable for those reasons

Probably the strongest series comedy-wise

That GORGEOUS 90s anime style

Main character dynamics were REALLY strong

Ash's personality felt much more like a shitty little 10 year old which was entertaining

Dub writing was also the best hands down

Sun & Moon (S20-S22)

Honestly tied for first with OS for me

REALLY fun ensemble cast! They do a fantastic job giving each character enough time for you to get to know and care about

Excellent modern anime style that perfectly fit the vibe of the season and allowed for some of the best character animation of the show's run

Finally figured out how to write Ash like a 10 year old again (but in a kind/sweet 10 year old way as opposed to OS)

Very different from previous series in terms of the formula they'd follow. Doing a school series instead of another "8 badges to championship" plot felt new and fresh!

This series genuinely made me cry the most (MEMORIES IN THE MIST!!!!! LIKE ARE YOU KIDDING ME)

Chronicles (S0)

Fun concept! It was really nice to see more of the side characters without Ash there. We get to see more of Misty, Tracey, Daisy, Brock, Ritchie, Oak, Delia, Butch, Cassidy, Jessie, James and Meowth!

Stylistically really nice. Just solid drawings all around and it retained the 90s anime style in digital form more successfully than other digitally done series imo

BUTCH AND CASSIDY!!! Team Rocket centric episodes!!! Training Daze!!!!!!!

Idk how possible it would have been (seems like a TON of work) but it made me want one of these in between each season, where we'd follow the characters that Ash had just said goodbye to for the next region.

Diamond and Pearl (S10-S13)

Series I grew up with! Honestly I was kinda a hater as a kid but having watched it back, I love the series

Love that Ash and Dawn were bros. They had a really fun dynamic.

Debatably peak Team Rocket. They had some of the best Team Rocket centric episodes this series.

Contests were really fun and a bit more figured out compared to the Advanced series

Fun, memorable rivals for Ash (Paul and Barry) as well as Dawn (Zoey, Kenny and Jessilina sometimes)

This is unfortunately where I stopped caring about Ash as much. He feels kinda watered down for the next couple series.

Advanced (S6-S9)

Pretty tied up with DP for me

Really fun series! Still had some of that early Pokémon charm

I appreciated that they put Ash in more of a mentor role for May (but he still had a lot to learn himself).

Ash and May constantly butting heads was really fun

May was a very compelling character to me, being very clumsy, kinda lazy, directionless, not really into Pokémon, etc. But then over time, she comes around and finds something she's interested in!

Journeys (S23-S25)

I love the episodic take as well as the way they let the characters jump around from region to region at random

Goh was a GREAT travel companion to Ash. They contrast each other nicely, have moments where they get on each others' nerves but still get along and have a mutual admiration for one another.

It was fun that they made Goh's thing catching every Pokémon (the motto of the entire series) so they could focus on Ash just training and prepping for Worlds.

Amaaaazing style. Took the great parts of classic Pokémon, roundness of SM and blended em together for a really fun look.

Black & White (S14-S16)

I don't think it's that controversial to have BW this low haha

I did enjoy Iris and Cilan but it felt like the writers didn't reaaally know what to do with them? Also this was their first time in a while not having Brock and it shows. I feel like Brock was successful because he was grounded and lower energy compared to the rest of the kids. Having 3 pretty eccentric characters is kind of a lot. No hate to the characters in the slightest, there was just not as much balance.

I think maybe they leaned on Cilan and Iris for more comedic relief because they killed the comedic relief that was Team Rocket this series. I appreciate them trying something new with Jessie, James and Meowth but I don't think it worked very well lol

XY (S17-S19)

I've ranted about this series a lot LOL. I get the appeal of it, but it just wasn't for me. I felt like it was the weakest comedy-wise and took itself a bit too seriously for my taste

My main gripe is that Serena, Clemont and Bonnie all like,,, worship Ash. By doing so, Ash begins to feel like a side character because we're constantly looking at Ash through their eyes. There's so little conflict within the group so their dynamics feel really flat. I think this dynamic could have worked if they leaned waaay more into Ash being a mentor and maybe feeling the pressure of having to be a role model for the people around him.

Team Rocket very much feels like an afterthought in this series. They did in Journeys as well, but at least in Journeys they were doing something silly and also had a handful of episodes dedicated to em.

Outside of that, the episodes weren't super memorable for me

I think it's just frustrating because there was sooooo much potential character-wise

[artnwill]

My art inspirations

William Heath Robinson- He was an English Cartoonist that lived though 1872-1944. Not only do I enjoy his drawings because of the fun elements that he would bring into them with machines, but I really like his use of line. His use of a single width for his line work and other artists have directly affected my own works. I also really enjoy the flat colors that he uses in his works.

John James Audubon- He was a American- French artist and ornithologist ( study of birds) who lived from 1785-1851. He recorded and painted many species of birds that are native here in America. I love his art. The composition, the colors, the accuracy of the birds is to die for. Huge inspiration when it comes to drawing birds. Recommend studying his art if your interested in bird drawing!

(Also the last bird picture is of a Carolina Parakeet, which was the only parakeet native to the southwest of North America)

(unfortunately it went extinct around the 1900's, which is a shame as it looks like it was such a pretty bird)

He also drew some mammals from America (tbh though some of them look a bit..... odd). This guy looks hella cursed lol

(both bird and racoon pics were from my collection of books based on his art)

Joe Weatherly- He is a California based artist that focuses on animal art. His artworks are very dynamic in nature and I love his use of color in his artworks. He also has done multiple books on drawing animals and of his own art (first picture is of his book Animal Essence). I highly recommend him to anyone interested in learning how to draw animals!

Here's a link his website for anyone interested https://www.joeweatherly.com/

(Images were taken from my own copy of his book Animal Essence)

Group of artworks from Pauline Cherrett's book "Chinese Brush Painting: A Beginner's Guide"

I have always been a fan of brushwork in artworks and have always been inspired by Chinese brush painting and Japanese woodblock art. I've always liked nature and landscapes and flowers which tend to be the main subjects of this type of art and honestly I just really enjoy them ( I mean look at the brushwork its amazing).

(all of these pictures come from my copy of the book)

So this was just a small list of some of the artworks and artist that inspire me and my art. Wanted to write this blog for myself as a sort of reference point and to show others different artists that they may not know of. I also have another blog like this one which I'll link if anyone is interested.

Honestly this was so much fun to write! I mainly write a ton for college and it can be a bit taxing but it's nice to write something for myself and on a topic I really enjoy!