#like people seeking out his work and wanting to purchase it

[avocado-writing]

hi!! I read your fics and I love your writing style! I was wondering if you could do something with a human reader, maybe she works in a bookshop or she’s a teacher? And it’s all cute because he finds her genuine??? Maybe some angst because she finds herself in danger? Idk sorry I’m rambling I just wanted something with a human reader 🧍🏻‍♀️💐

the place where the pages meet

logan howlett x bookseller!reader

4k words, rated explicit.

cocky!logan; awkward!reader; excessive book references; threat of physical violence (quickly averted); anti-mutant language & sentiments; smut (oral - reader receiving, penetrative sex). minors dni. thank you @saradika-graphics for dividers!

The sky is heavy with the promise of rain, and you suck your breath in through your teeth. It’s fifty-fifty on days like these: either people will seek shelter in your little store, or they’ll scurry away with the fear any purchases they make will get soaked and ruined.

God damn it, what kind of fool opens an independent book shop in New York?

You’re the kind of fool, apparently. Still, it’s your home, both figuratively between all the old paperbacks and literally with your tiny apartment on the top floor. Barely more than a studio, but enough for you. A piece for yourself carved out of this world. 

Outside it starts to pour. You sigh. Well, at least you know you’ll get one visitor today.

Charles, your dear friend and long-time financial supporter of your store, had called earlier to let you know that the usual face wouldn’t be coming to grab his order. It’s a shame, you like Ororo, enjoy sitting and sharing a pot of oolong with her on quiet days. Also she could have chased away this terrible weather for you. Ah well. 

“Who can I expect?” you’d asked. 

Charles had laughed, a warm and friendly sound. 

“Ahh, you’ll know Logan when you see him.”

You don’t know what you’d do without Charles. Between orders of rare books for his personal collections and en-masse copies of classics for the kids, he pretty much keeps this place running for you. Bless that man, honestly, because you’re not sure where you’d be without him. 

The sound of someone pulling up outside has you putting down your book and turning towards the shop window. 

A pickup truck parks up by the kerbside and you watch the man in the driver’s seat emerge into the rain. He cuts a fine figure, tall and strong, but you don’t get a good look at him until he walks through the front door. 

Oh no, you think, he’s handsome. 

Leather jacket now pocked with raindrops, very obvious white vest beneath it showing off his broad chest. He shakes like a dog to get the moisture out of his hair as he stamps his boots on the doormat, pausing only briefly to scrutinise its no admittance expect on party business slogan. 

“Logan?” you ask. He looks up and when his eyes first meet yours? Oh, a fire is sent down your spine. 

“Yeah,” he confirms, looking around to take in the place. You can’t tell if he’s impressed or not. He has a remarkably neutral face, careful, the sort of man who doesn’t want to give anything away about himself. 

“You’re… here for Charles’ books?”

He’s sauntering over to the counter now. Cocks an eyebrow. It goes right through you. Fuck. 

“That’d be me.” There’s a beat. “Why, you think someone’d try and steal them?”

“People can steal books!” you say, defensively. 

“People named Logan who you’re clearly expecting?”

You bristle, because he’s got you. Something flickers over his face for a second: a smile. 

Oh no, you think, he’s handsome and he’s an asshole.

Huffing, you fish the box out from under the desk and groan with effort as you lift it up. Logan takes it from your grasp as if it weighs nothing at all. Your fingers touch as you do. You try to ignore it.

“Thanks,” he says, easily.

“Mm. Mind the rain. It’d be a shame if you slipped.”

A proper smile crosses his face then, but he turns away too quickly for you to let it sink in. The bell on the door chimes as he heads back out into the rain.

Well, you hope you never see him again.

By the same time next week, you’re really hoping you see him again.

You’ve sort of not been able to get him out of your mind. He was kinda prickly, sure, but a welcome break from the mundanity of your life, and pretty good looking to boot. It’s probably just a pipe dream. You’re sure it’ll be Ororo again, and you can go back to the easy pattern of seeing your dear friend. That’s okay. You’re fine with it. Who needs a handsome man? You have your books, you have your store, you’re happy.

Yeah. You’re happy. 

Imagine your surprise, then, when you hear a motorbike outside your shop.

You must be blessed with street parking, because Logan pulls up right outside again. Same jacket, same well-worn jeans. He catches your eye through the window and you’re sure they glisten. You pretend to be engrossed in your book but it’s not fooling anyone, the words swim into soup on the page as you see him approach.

The door goes; he approaches the counter. Closer this time, you can smell him. Tobacco and leather. Fuck it’s good.

“You should wear a helmet,” you say, trying to be flippant. Logan lets out a single, solitary note of a chuckle from deep in his chest.

“I’ll be fine. Thanks for your concern, though.”

You feel your cheeks heat up and try to hide it by looking for Charles’ order again. It’s a single book, a first edition you had to go through the backwater book depositories to hunt down. You’re the best at what you do, though, so it was no real problem. It’s why he always comes to you.

“Here you go. Let him know I’ll try and find the sequel if he’s interested, too.”

“Sure.”

Once again your fingers touch as you hand the book to Logan. No. No, this is too quick! You want to keep him here for a little while longer. He looks so out of place between the wonky shelves and hanging plants, it’s just perfect.

Your mouth tries to say two things at once: can you tell Charles I’ll have his other order ready same time next week, and, do you like to read often? 

Instead what comes out is, “can you read?”

You must wince when you ask the question, because Logan stands there transfixed. Baffled, just for a second.

“Can I… read?” he repeats slowly. 

I’ve failed you, I’m so fucking sorry I didn’t stop your mouth in time, says your brain.

“I didn’t mean… of course you read… I just… I didn’t want to assume… maybe you didn’t like books… erm…”

“Yeah, I read,” he says softly, as if you are an old dog and he is putting you out of your misery. You fucking wish he would. Jesus Christ, it’s like you’ve never spoken to another person before.

You can’t find a way to recover this. Your cheeks are on fire. You’re going to explode and burn down your store. Oh authors, you are so sorry for using all these works as kindling.

You expect Logan to turn on his heel and walk out but he… doesn’t. Instead he takes a step back so that he can look at the shelf nearest to the desk. Runs his fingers across the spines before picking one. It’s slim, no more than the width of his finger; he puts it on the counter and fishes his wallet out of his pocket.

In the Miso Soup by Ryū Murakami. You ring him up, punching the price into your old cash register, give him his change. His palm is soft as you drop coins into it. 

“See you next week,” he says, stashing both his book and Charles’ inside his jacket. 

“Okay,” you say, amazed you’re able to get any words out, and watch him walk away again.

He does see you next week.

The sun’s out, so he’s sans jacket, and oh fuck you can see how his arms are like treetrunks. The way this man has you reacting is unhealthy. You try and focus on the hardback in your hands but all you can picture is those veins which are bulging on his biceps, begging you to come and get to know them better.

“You’re always reading huh?” 

His voice makes you jump a little, you’re not expecting him to be so close. You look up. He slides his sunglasses up into his hair. Fuck it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen.

“Would you trust a bookstore owner who didn’t read?” you ask, bristling with the need to defend this little shop and your place in it. He holds his hands up in the universal sign of peace.

“Not an insult, just an observation.”

You sink back from attack mode, walls still a little high, but definitely coming down.

“How did you get on with the Murakami last week?”

Logan takes a moment to consider this, trying to piece his answer together in a way which won’t offend you.

“I liked it until the last chapter.”

You sit up in your chair. 

“Yes! A lot of people say that. It feels like it ends sort of abruptly, but if you just appreciate it for what it is, it’s a good book.”

He smiles a little as you speak. You fucking love talking about books, to a degree some people find absurd. You don’t want to babble though, so you force yourself to end your observations there.

Logan nods at the book in your hands.

“What are you reading now?”

You lift up your book so he can see the cover: A. S. Byatt’s The Djinn in the Nightingale’s Eye. 

“It’s very good! Byatt has such a wonderful way of writing. I love fairy tales and there’s such a wonderful voice in this one. They made the titular story into a movie a couple of years back, it’s quite good actually, it has Tilda Swinton in it.” You’re floundering. Don’t stray too far from the normal lines of conversation. Mouth, for fuck’s sake stay on course, begs your brain. It doesn’t. Instead you ask, “do you… like Tilda Swinton?”

Logan raises an eyebrow and you know this is a man who has never once had to consider the question of whether or not he likes the actress Tilda Swinton. 

Mouth still talking. MOUTH STILL TALKING, your brain screams. It’s true. It is. You were too busy being horrified to notice.

What your mouth says while being unchaperoned is, “There’s a little single-screen theatre nearby doing a showing of it this week, actually, do you wanna come with?”

DID YOU JUST ASK HIM OUT. DID YOU JUST ASK HIM OUT?!

Logan doesn’t seem to know what to make of that. He seems just as shocked that you’ve asked as you are. But then, just as you want to cast yourself into the street so that a passing garbage truck might take pity on you and sweep you away, he smiles. It’s slow, but it makes him look so much hotter.

“Sure, why not.”

Oh mouth you genius. I shall never doubt you again.

“Oh, okay, great! Uhh, are you free Friday?”

“I can be. What time’s the screening?”

“Seven. Meet me here at six-thirty?”

“It’s a date.”

Fuck, it is a date, isn’t it. It’s a date!

Logan stands there, awaiting something. You’re confused for a beat, then go up on your tiptoes, aiming your mouth towards his.

“As much as I appreciate the gesture… Charles’ book, honey.”

Hmmm, okay. Still time for the earth to just swallow you whole then, actually.

You sort of don’t expect him to turn up. You wouldn’t go on a date with you, all awkward edges and uncomfortable words. And he’s… the coolest fucking guy you’ve ever seen. 

Of course he won’t turn up. Of course he won’t. 

He turns up. 

He’s waiting for you outside the store, leaning against a lamppost, dressed in flannel and smelling like subtle cologne. You can’t help lighting up when you see him and hope you’re dressed suitably - your nicest pair of dungarees and a tight-fitting jumper. 

“Hey! You made it,” you say. 

“‘Course I did,” he replies with a little smile. Oh, you’re giddy. 

“C’mon, it’s not a long walk. It’s a nice night too.”

He lets you chatter as the two of you make the brief journey, content to have you talk his ear off about business and books. He’s happy to answer any questions you ask him about himself: what he does for a living, how he knows Charles, if he’s got anything else on his to-read list. The two of you skirt around the most obvious thing: if he lives at the mansion, he’s definitely a mutant. You can’t quite get the courage to ask him about it. Seems easier to just let it lie, so you do. It’s not that important anyway, you think, you like Logan, with or without any extra bits. 

When you arrive at the little hole-in-the-wall cinema, he gets the tickets and the popcorn and the drinks. You do your best not to feel absolutely pathetic by his side. Surely everyone here knows you’re punching above your weight with this absolute grade A specimen of a man? You’re so busy looking around the foyer to make sure nobody is staring that you almost don’t realise when he takes your hand in his.

“You with me, honey?” he asks, soft, low. You swallow thickly and nod because for once, you can’t find the words.

It’s not a very full screening, which is just fine, because you’re happy to be alone with Logan in the dark. You share a bucket of popcorn and a secret little thrill runs up your spine every time your fingers brush together. When that’s finished, he puts his arm around the back of your chair and you snuggle up against his side, cursing the damn plastic cupholder in the middle forcing you to keep a distance. 

One hundred and eight minutes. They’re not enough. You want to be here forever. But eventually the credits roll, the lights come up, and Logan has to pull his arm back; you hope the reluctance in the withdrawal of the gesture isn’t just your imagination. 

“What did you think?” you ask, standing up and stretching. Logan follows suit, mulling over the question. 

“It was… cute,” he decides. “I can see why you like it.” 

You beam. 

“I can lend you the book if you want. It goes into way more detail about the main character’s life at the start, it’s very stream-of-consciousness but I really enjoy it? It’s different to the other stories before it but definitely worth reading. I think that…”

You’re outside now, under the streetlights, fingers tangled easily with his, and when he stills you’re pulled to a stop too. 

“Hmm?”

He drops his grip on your hand so that he can put one under your jaw, tilting your head to get a better look at you. Your heart beats violently. He can definitely feel it. He knows. You don’t care. Fuck, he’s so near. 

“You talk a lot, huh?” he asks. It’s not unkind, the smile on his face is one of fondness, and all of your skeleton turns to jelly as you fucking melt under the affection in his gaze. 

“Please shut me up,” your beg comes out as a whisper, and he does. 

His lips are rough against yours, guiding, but sweet. The hair on his face tickles your cheeks. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and bring him down to kiss him with more enthusiasm. This is not a public-appropriate display of affection, and someone honks their car horn at you both, but it just serves to make you laugh against his mouth and keep going. His hands slide onto your hips and hold you tight against him. Possessive. Wanting. Covetous. 

“You know,” he says when he pulls back for air, still running his lips along the line of your jaw to the hinge beneath your ear, “when Charles told me I should go and get those books, he said I’d like the person who runs the store. Didn’t expect you to be such a gorgeous little thing, though.”

You, gorgeous! Logan thinks you’re gorgeous! You could do a fucking cartwheel in celebration. You don’t though, you’d probably give yourself a concussion. 

His hand goes to his pocket and his brow furrows and, for a second, you panic. Has he started regretting kissing you already? Another quick kiss calms that down though, settling the simmer of worry in your stomach. 

“I think I left my wallet in the theatre. Hold on, I’ll grab it, then I’ll walk you home?”

“Only if you come in with me,” you breathe, and once again your mouth has taken the reins on that one. Logan huffs a laugh, a little incredulous, but mostly pleased at your gumption. 

“Okay, sweetheart. Okay.”

He leaves you standing there, feeling all tingly. This is happening. It’s fucking happening! Sometimes the stars align for a book nerd and a handsome guy wants to come up to their studio apartment. You thank Jesus, Buddha, Arthur C. Clarke - whoever is listening, they fucking deserve it. 

“You gonna fuck that mutant?”

The voice sends a chill down your throat. 

The trio of guys standing behind you do not look friendly. The biggest one, the one standing in the middle, sneers at your panic, crossing thick arms over a broad chest.

“Well? I asked you a question.”

You screw your courage to the sticking place, puffing up a little. 

“Don’t see how that’s any of your business,” you spit back, hoping that vitriol will deter them. It does not. Instead, they close in, hyenas around a cadaver. 

“Never had a human dick you down good enough, huh? Need a little help? C’mon baby, we’ll show you.”

He reaches out to grab your arm. You let out a noise of panic. 

At the same time, Logan’s fist collides with his face. 

The guy is sent stumbling back, spitting out a globule of blood. His friends step away with panic in their eyes. Logan moves in front of you, his bulk your shield, three metal claws extending from between his knuckles. 

Yeah. Mutant, huh?

“I think you were just leaving, pal,” says Logan in a voice which doesn’t bear messing with. The man bares his reddened teeth. 

“The fuck do you think you are, mutant scum--?!”

He lunges for Logan and the breath is sucked from your lungs when you see he’s pulling out a fucking knife, but another punch sends him flat on his ass. The blade clatters across the street and into the gutter. His friends grab either one of his arms and half stand him up, half drag him away.

“Shit, it’s not worth it—!” is their conclusion as they disappear into the night, shouting back expletives, blood trailing from their leader. Logan shakes out his fist, flexes his fingers; claws retract. He turns to you, slowly. 

“You okay?” he asks, hurriedly checking you over. You nod. 

“Y…yeah. Shaken.” you confess. 

“C'mon. Let’s get you home,” he sighs, and from the cadence of his voice you can tell he’s worried the night has been ruined. You place your hand on his bicep. 

“Logan?”

“Yeah?”

“Will you still… will you still come up?”

He softens. 

“If it’ll make you feel safer, sweetheart.”

It does. 

And that’s how you find him sitting on your well-loved couch in between your needlepoint pillows, looking around your tiny home as you make a pot of coffee to share. 

“Jesus, you’ve got more books in here than in the store,” he mutters. 

“Well, some of them I couldn’t part with. I like them too much. And, as you pointed out, I am always reading.”

You look around at the shelves stuffed into your flat, the dozens of them holding hundreds of novels, plays, poems. You love them all dearly. They all hold a special piece of your heart, you can remember where you were when you read most of them. (Downstairs while manning the desk is often the answer). 

“Oh, even this?”

You can hear the smile in Logan’s voice. He’s holding up a copy of Fifty Shades. You scoff, rolling your eyes. 

“Christ, I read that as a professional courtesy to the art of bookselling. Got it for fifty cents at a thrift store. It’s crap. If you want some good erotica I can recommend…”

The sentence lingers unfinished. Logan raises his eyebrows. 

“You can recommend what, huh?”

The coffee is ready. You can smell its rich scent enveloping your little apartment. An idea forms. Creates a heavy anticipation on your tongue. Your brain screams at you. 

Locked. Loaded. Fire, mouth, fire!

“… then I’d recommend you take me to bed,” you say.

Logan stares, eyes wide. You’ve had an immediate effect on him. His pupils dilate. 

“I… honey, after earlier, I’m not sure if you should…”

You cross the room and sit on his lap, an easy feat when his legs are so thick and inviting. His sentence stops as you press your mouth to the pulse in his neck. Kiss. 

“I’m a consenting adult,” a kiss on his cheek, “who’s invited you into their home,” a kiss on his brow, “and is asking you to take them across their painfully tiny apartment and fuck them. If you don’t want to, that’s okay, but Logan? I’ve been game ever since you first walked in from the rain.”

He looks up at you to double check that you’re telling the truth, then kisses you with such ferocity that you squeak. 

You do not make it to the bed. 

He undresses you there on the sofa in the middle of your bookshelves, between Brontë and Austen, beside Carter and Rushdie. Your clothes end up in a messy little pile on the coffee table. It gets kicked and the pile of literary magazines slide to the floor as Logan moves to take off his shoes, letting you drag his jeans down and off of him, cupping his cock in his boxers.

Fuck. Thick, heavy, large, you want all of it. All of him. 

He leans you back against your kitschy little pillows with book quotes on them and pulls your dungarees off, an act both ridiculous and endearing. He catches your knee in his hand and begins to kiss up your thigh towards your underwear.

“Fuck,” you whisper as he presses a kiss to your sex over the fabric. He grins up at you from between your legs. 

“That was the plan.”

He fucks you with his mouth like a man starved, luxuriating in the little sounds you make for him, pressing fingers inside you without any effort at all. You cum all over his knuckles embarrassingly quickly. He looks sorta smug. 

“Baby, when was the last time someone took care of you…?” he asks, licking a stripe along your sex to taste what he’s done. You huff. 

“Too long. You gonna fix that?”

It’s a challenge and he takes it as one. You strip off his shirt, making sure to get a good feel of his muscles as you go, kissing his pectorals and abs just because you can. He slides inside you with one thrust, one of your legs in a crook at his hip; the other with its ankle resting on his shoulder. He starts moving and the couch shakes but all you can do is cling on for dear life to the crocheted blanket. 

“Holy shit… so fuckin’ tight… aren’t you just the most gorgeous thing…” he hisses. You reach up enough to tangle your fingers in his hair and drag him down for a kiss, sloppy and charged with heat. His hand moves in between your legs and you cum for the second time that night, hissing with satisfaction as he spills inside you. 

You collapse onto the sofa together, your heavy breaths harmonising. When he pulls back to kiss you this time it’s softer. With intention. With reference. 

“Uh, you know, they’re showing To Kill a Mockingbird next week. Maybe dinner beforehand, if you’re interested?”

He laughs affectionately and you can feel the rumble in his chest.

“Sounds good. You’ll have to lend me the book first.”

Fuck yeah. You’re never doubting your mouth again. 

Taglist: @falsewordz@malfoys-demigod@belilwen@mildly-salted@tvwebs@childeslegstrap@getmeoutofhell@s1eep-o@just-a-beatlemaniac69@yrthr@momopad@sugarplumz100@captainjinkx@madspads@acrosstheunivcrse@yeethaw13@na-is-salty@florduarte@hunterispunk@starfleetteddybear

[palioom]

stuffing

summary: javier has never been able to get enough of you, but it's only gotten worse ever since you've become pregnant.

pairing: javier peña x f!reader

word count: 3.1k

warnings: 18+ content; no use of y/n; unprotected p in v; oral (f receiving); fingering; established relationship; pregnancy sex/kink; squirting; cum eating; cum play; creampie; some dirty talk

• masterlist •

Life in Laredo was boring.

Boring people, boring houses, hell, even the birds singing here seemed boring.

But that’s how Javier liked it.

The biggest news here was barely worth a mention compared to what he had seen in Colombia.

He was more than fine with this boring life, no more chases, no more heavy protection tact vests. No looking over the shoulder, no suspicious staring.

Though, he still did that from time to time.

Couldn’t quite shake the habit of suspecting people planned something bad, occasionally checking his car for bombs.

He’d probably never lose these things, it was too deeply embedded into his being now, had become a part of him.

But that’s why he loved this boring life.

Coming home to the little plot of land they had purchased right next to his father’s, staying close to Chucho and helping out whenever they could.

Coming home to a warm home, decorated with silly little trinkets, pretty paintings.

Everything neatly organized but with a certain chaos to it. He didn’t like things too neat, and while their home was tidy and clean, it looked lived in.

Maybe a little wild at times.

Not bare or sparsely decorated like safehouses or his apartment back in Medellín.

He loved coming home to the smell of food wafting to the front door.

Loved coming home to her.

His lovely wife, her back turned towards him as she worked on something, hair up and out of her face.

Moving her pretty hips and ass as she hummed along to whatever song the radio was playing. Completely in her own world.

He smiled when he saw her, walking up to her and pressing himself close, hands on her hip and kissing the back of her head before pressing one against her exposed neck.

She was warm and inviting, letting out a small sigh when she felt him, leaning back while still working on whatever food she was making.

“Looks good, cariño.” He said, kissing that spot behind her ear that let her sigh even deeper before resting his chin on her shoulder to watch. 

“Thank you, it’s the stuffing for the poblano peppers I wanna make at the cookout tomorrow.” She said, her skilled hands cutting vegetables into small portions. “I know I could whip it up tomorrow, but I have so many things still planned and I don’t know how I’ll feel.”

A smirk stretched his lips wide, his hands roaming to her large, round belly. Just letting his hands smooth over it for a moment, they wandered to the underside of it, gently lifting it.

The sigh of relief that spilled over her lips echoed loudly in the kitchen and he watched how she put down the knife, just leaning back into him, hands gripping the counter.

It was a heavy weight in his hands and he couldn’t imagine carrying that around every day.

But she was such a champ, despite her swearing and complaints. And she had never looked more beautiful.

“We could make a different kind of stuffing.” He suggested, tone teasing. “Together.”

A small laugh bubbled in her chest, and fuck, how he loved hearing it.

“Pretty sure there’s enough stuffing inside of me already.”

Javier had always been pretty insatiable when it came to her, whether it was for the basic need of wanting to fuck his beautiful wife or because his past was plaguing him and he needed a respite, seeking comfort in her body rather than his usual vices.

But ever since she had become pregnant, he truly couldn’t get enough of her, hands all over her round belly and swollen breasts, needing some part of himself buried inside her pussy.

Not that she minded, he always made sure to make her feel good.

“C’mon, nena.” He said, letting her belly down again gently, taking notice of how she slumped a little. “There can never be enough stuffing inside of you.”

She rolled her eyes with a groan, partially from the heavy weight returning, partially because he was ridiculous. In the best way, of course.

“Better keep that talk to a minimum tomorrow.” She warned with a grin, turning around in his arms and leaning back against the counter.

“Yes ma’am.” 

His lips on hers were gentle at first, moulding languidly together, his hand roaming up and down her side. Moustache tickling her upper lip.

Letting his tongue find hers, he could taste some of the vegetables she had chopped up, smiling at that. She tasted amazing and Javier couldn’t wait to have whatever she was making tomorrow.

But first, he wanted her.

Deepening the kiss, his hands wandered down to her ass, squeezing hard which made her moan.

The most beautiful sound he knew, soft and already high-pitched, a song no one else would ever know.

“C’mon, nena” He rasped against her lips, a small groan leaving him when her hands wandered into his hair. “Let me take care of you.”

She chuckled at his words.

“Take care of me or of your dick?”

Javier had to laugh at that as well, forehead coming to rest against hers, looking into her eyes.

“Is that what you think of me?”

She shrugged her shoulders, upside down smile on her lips.

Her hands moved to his cheeks, squishing them just lightly. She really wanted him, feeling wet already at the thought of him inside her.

But she needed to finish chopping the vegetables first, knowing she wouldn’t come back here once he had her in bed. And he wouldn’t do it.

“Can I finish this first, Javi?” She placed a kiss on the bridge of his nose, right over the small scar there. “I know you won’t let me out of bed once you get me there.”

Javier sighed but nodded. Anything for his wife.

Kissing her forehead, he let his lips linger there as she hummed. “I’ll help you, cariño.”

It took them longer than expected to land in their bedroom, with Javier trying to get things done the fast way and getting reprimanded by her more than just once for how sloppily he diced the vegetables.

But, they had managed somehow, leaving the mess to get cleaned up in the morning.

She giggled when he pushed her onto the bed, gently, before kneeling before her.

Hands on her belly, lips back on hers.

“Wanna taste that pussy so bad.” He said, one hand sliding to her thigh and slowly pushing up the hem of her dress. “Wet and sweet for me.”

Kissing down her jaw to her neck, he could feel the moan vibrating in her throat, her hand at the back of his neck.

“Please, Javi.” She sighed, enjoying the way his lips felt against her skin, how tantalisingly slow he moved his calloused hand up her thigh. 

Her legs spread further, allowing him to trace his fingers up the inside of her thigh before reaching the hem of her panties, already wet.

A soft gasp echoed between them when he pressed a knuckle over her clit, applying just a little bit of pressure.

Her fingers curled into his neck, eyes closed.

She was much more sensitive now, every little touch so much more intense as he languidly dragged his knuckle over the damp material.

“Feels good, huh, nena?” He asked, leaning back to look at her face, drinking in her pleasure as he pressed a little harder. 

She nodded, humming, biting her lip when he brushed over her clit again.

“Take them off, Javi.” 

He grinned, fingers hooking under the waistband and tugging them down her legs when she lifted her hips to help him.

Both his hands were back on her immediately, bunching up her summer dress so he could look at her soaking pussy when she leaned back on one arm. The other caressed the back of his head still.

No matter how often he saw her, he always looked mesmerised somehow, like this was his first time.

Made her feel special, the low, quiet whistle and grin on his face making her giggle.

“Pretty pussy all soaked for me.” He said, eyes still on her middle as he used his thumbs to spread her open, the air chilly against her. “You're stunning, cariño.”

She couldn’t quite see, her belly too big already, but she felt the rough pad of one thumb press into her clit, making her hips jerk forward.

“Always for you, Javi.” She smiled, nails scratching against his scalp.

His dark eyes found hers, sparkling and so loving and he leaned up towards her face, pressing a long kiss to her lips.

“Let me taste you, nena.” He said.

Just a few years back, when she had met him between his stays in Colombia, he would have just dived in without even asking, merely announcing it.

It made her happy that he had settled a little, had found enough rest to allow himself to change just a bit.

Just a little though, still falling into his old ways more often than not.

Exactly how she liked it.

“‘Course, Javi, you fucking know that.” She chuckled, kissing him again before he settled back down, grinning like he’d just won the damn lottery.

In his mind, he did.

With a woman so stunning, so perfect with her charm and wits and that round belly only making her angelic.

He felt like he had done something right for once when he put a ring on her, just them in a tiny ceremony.

Only Chucho with them.

They never liked the big celebrations, just them was enough.

“Scootch back and lay down, cariño.” He said, helping her to move back on the bed, making it easier for both of them.

That growing stomach of hers had made it just a little harder to do all this, but they found a way.

She hummed when he kissed down the insides of her thighs, occasionally biting her while his hands kept them spread for him.

Her hand in his hair tugged weakly on his dark locks, making him hum in return.

“So fucking pretty.” He murmured, right before finding her middle, tongue twisting around her clit, seeing how her back arched off the bed, her fingers curling tighter into his hair. “So fucking sensitive, cariño.”

Licking a broad stripe up her folds, he focused solely on her clit, tongue flicking over it before he sucked on it, making her moan and whimper.

“Javi, fuck, that feels good, baby.” She whined loudly, writhing on the bed already, one hand twisted in the sheets while the other still gripped his hair tightly.

She wished she could watch him, watch his face as he ate her out. He always looked so pretty when he did.

So she closed her eyes and imagined his staring up at hers, brows furrowed in concentration. The wet sounds growing louder, mingling with her moans.

Her hips bucked against his mouth and he laid one of his hands on her hip to keep her still, the other finding her wet entrance, two fingers teasing her and making her whine.

“Oh- Baby, please, fuck me with your fingers, please.” She rushed out, trying to inch closer to him but he kept teasing her, letting them glide over her aching hole but not pushing inside. “You’re a mean man, Javi.”

He hummed against her, the vibrations running up her spine and pushed his fingers in, taking her by surprise.

She clenched around him, moaning loudly and throwing her head back as he slowly started pumping in and out of her, fingers curling against that spongy sweet spot inside of her.

“That’s my girl.” He mumbled, grabbing her hip harder as he continued to lick and suck at her clit. “Sweet pussy gripping me so tight, nena.”

Her orgasm was building rapidly, feeling so sensitive as he touched all the right spots.

A different, unfamiliar sensation built alongside it, faster and faster as she writhed below him, whines growing louder.

“Baby- I’m gonna-” She choked out, unable to finish her sentence as her orgasm crashed into her so suddenly and so violently that she couldn’t even make more sounds.

Then she felt it, a warm, wet gush, her hand in his hair managing to tug him away as he kept pumping his fingers, fucking her through her orgasm as she soaked his shirt.

He just looked stunned. This was the first time this had ever happened and seeing her body tremble, legs shaking and her thighs and the sheets wet…

Could he possibly be more in love and crazy for her?

“‘M sorry, Javier.” She gasped out when he removed his fingers once she had calmed down again, breathing hard. “I don’t know-”

“Stop.” He cut her off, rising to his feet so he could crawl over her. “That was fucking hot, cariño.”

His eyes were hungry when he looked down at her, lips crashing into hers.

His moustache was wet, as was his chin and she could taste herself on him when he pushed his tongue into her mouth.

She could practically feel how excited he was, not that he ever wasn’t, but all the shame she might have felt at what she did was melting away as he kissed her so roughly and passionately, his hands moving to push down the straps of her dress.

Quickly his fingers unclasped her bra and she helped him take it off, groaning when his rough hands cupped her sensitive breasts.

“God, I love you pregnant.” He said, kissing down her neck to her chest.

She giggled, the sound broken by a gasp when his mouth closed around one nipple.

“Just ‘cause my tits get bigger?”

Javier had to laugh at that. “Exactly, and you’re fucking sexy like this.”

She rolled her eyes, moaning again when his tongue curled around her nipple, back arching into him.

“Can you finally fuck me?” She asked, hands in his hair. “Please, baby, it hurts.”

He sat up, taking off his soaked shirt and throwing it to the side, revealing his toned chest and soft stomach.

“Hurts for me, nena?” He said, brow raised as his fingers fumbled with his belt buckle. “Gonna need my dick to help you feel better?”

She nodded, biting her lip as she watched him take off his jeans, then his underwear, his hard cock springing free.

“Say it.”

Her legs wrapped around his waist, trying to coax him closer. 

“Need your cock in my aching pussy, Javi. Want you to fuck me.”

His hands wandered to her dress, still bunched around her hips and pulled it off of her.

“My pretty little wife.” He chuckled, lining himself up with her, her legs draped over his hips. “You sound so sweet, you’re always so good to me.”

Slowly he pushed in, watching for her reactions as he pushed in deeper, until he was settled all the way.

She moaned, eyes closing and her hands reaching for his thighs, needing to hold onto him in some way.

“Feels good?” He asked, running his hands over her legs, then placed them over hers.

A low hum left her and she nodded. “Move, baby. Wanna feel you.”

Javier obliged almost immediately, rolling his hips slowly, pulling out before pushing himself all the way in again. 

Dragging low moans from her, short gasps and pants.

Watching her face contort in pleasure when one of her hands left his leg to squeeze her own breast.

“Fuck, you’re so gorgeous, cariño.” He groaned, feeling her clench around him. “My dirty, little wife.”

A new orgasm built rapidly, his dick hitting all the right places inside of her, his groans and moans only helping the waves of pleasure grow.

She opened her eyes to look at him, watching his muscles flex as he slammed his hips against hers, when he lifted her legs to lay them against his shoulders, changing the angle and moving faster.

“Oh- Javi, fuck!” She gasped, feeling herself so close already as he kept fucking her. “You feel so good!”

“I know, nena.” He rasped, his eyes moving back and forth between her face and her bouncing breasts. “Be a good girl for me and let go, yeah? Wanna feel that pussy all tight, you’re so fucking gorgeous like this, cariño.”

Just a few more thrusts, looking at his face, teeth bared and brows furrowed, her second orgasm crashed into her, making her tense up and moan his name, squeezing him so tightly he had to stop for a moment.

“Just like that, nena, yes.” He breathed out, picking up his speed as he fucked her through it, rhythm faltering. “That’s my girl, fuck-”

His hips pressed into her, a guttural groan ripped from him as he came, fingers curling into her thighs.

“So fucking pretty with your belly, fuck- Gotta give you more.”

She barely understood his rambling over the blood rushing in her ears, struggling to breathe as she still felt the pleasure running through her.

But something about it was just incredibly hot.

He let her legs down gently before pulling out carefully, spreading her legs to watch his cum leak out of her.

She felt hot under his gaze and watched as he used his fingers to push it back into her, making her groan and roll her eyes.

“Javi, I am already pregnant.” She said, watching his face closely.

He hummed in response, still pushing more back into her.

“Just gotta make sure.” He said, hearing her laugh at that. “Love seeing my cum inside you, cariño, you know that.”

“Just gotta make sure…” She mumbled under her breath with a chuckle. “You’re ridiculous.”

Happy with what he’d done, he leaned forward to kiss her belly before leaning over her again, putting his fingers to her mouth.

“Open.”

She did, sucking his fingers into her mouth and humming at the salty taste, both of them together.

When he pulled them out again, he kissed her, soft and tender now, his hand smoothing over her belly.

“We do make good stuffing.” She said, trying not to laugh but feeling herself unable to when he started grinning.

He laughed too, loving her laugh and kissing her forehead.

“We do, and I’ll make sure there’s more where that came from.” He said, eyes twinkling.

“Not tomorrow.” She warned.

He kissed her cheek.

“I won’t have to mention it, everyone can already see how well I stuffed you.”

That earned him a playful swat on the arm, pushing him off of her with a laugh.

Yeah, she really loved this Javier.

And she could imagine letting him stuff her just once or twice more.

He was pretty good at this, after all.

[nanamiscocksleeve]

heyy ray! first things first, i LOVE your writing. that's all i have to say like i literally go nuts every time

sooo this is not a kinktober request and i know you probably have TOO many things to write lol butttt if it's in your taste i'd really like to see your take on the lads man reacting to their lady not wanting to have sex because she hasn't shaved while being away on a mission or something and is feeling insecure about that ig???

and! if i can ask to be the little moon emoji🌙 then i'd like to, please! as always thanks for all the stories you're aMAZING

Hi there! Yes you can be moon anon. Thank you for the kind words! It makes me happy that people are enjoying my work.

Soooo it's actually such a coincidence that you mentioned the body hair thing because I have a story wip for Zayne involving that particular area and hair 😆😆😆 Keep an eye for it btw!

As for the general reaction of the men, I genuinely think all of them are mature enough to handle a little hair and they're not bothered by it. This is how I think this would go.

Sylus: He'll look at reader quite suspiciously. He knows she's not on her period and after trying to get an answer from her, he'll stop when she tells him to quit asking. For a little while anyway. They have a shared home delivery app and when reader makes a purchase later that night he sees all the hair removal products and instantly makes the connection. He'll seek her out, tell her he doesn't care and that his kitten can't be a kitten if there's no hair on her pussy 🤭. When reader protests, he'll pull her close and tell her he missed her and if it really bothers her, she can get a bikini wax tomorrow. He'll even pay for it, but he's needy for her NOW and nothing in his view can change how beautiful she is, hair or no hair.

Xavier: Will assume she's on her period and brings over stuff for her like tea, chocolate, and some selfcare stuff like scented candles and face masks. Reader will be amused at Xavier's assumption and after a few shy moments, she'll tell him in a very vague way that she feels unkempt and that's why she doesn't want to have sex. Xavier thinks unkempt = hasn't bathed and asks if maybe she wants to take a quick shower together. At this point reader shakes her head and admits that she hasn't had time to self-groom down there because of her mission. Things finally click in Xavier's head and he'll ask if he can look and if he doesn't think it looks unkempt then they have should have sex. Of course Xavier gets pussy drunk the minute he sees it and they end up having sex.

Rafayel: This man will straight up pout if you tell him you don't want to have sex. And he'll try to guilt you as well. He'll say you must not love him anymore or that you're hiding a secret from him. Then finally in exasperation, reader will ask him if he wants to fuck a shag carpet because that's what it looks like down there. And of course Rafayel, with his sarcasm and playfullness will say something like "A shag rug for a pussy? I've never heard of such a thing I have to see it now!" And you'll have to show him before he throws another fishy tantrum. When he looks at it he'll sigh dramatically and say "It's not even close to a shag carpet, you exaggerate everything. Now that it's out in the open, let's just have sex."

Zayne: Without giving too much away from my fic...Zayne doesn't care. He's a doctor. He's seen his fair share of hair on body parts and isn't fazed. Also, the vibe I get from them seems to be more of a long-term couple and they've seen each other through their ups and downs so reader will straight up tell him she feels self-conscious about having sex because she hasn't shaved. Zayne will say he respects her decision but removing the hair can cause ingrowns and itching and he doesn't want her to do it incorrectly in order to have sex as soon as possible. He convinces her that they should have sex at least once before she removes it because there's no telling how she might feel after the exhaustion of removing all the hair. You can remove it on your own time but right now he wants you and let's face it, you've popped pimples off his back and he's seen you trimming your toenails, are you really going to let a little hair stop you from riding this man? 🤭🤭🤭

[minminbunny]

Stalker X Stalker AU - Posessive Coworker! Yang Jeongin/Naive Gender Neutral! Reader

*smut part - AFAB/AMAB

💕Drabble Masterlist

❤️Ultimate Masterlist

"Innie!" you giggled, wrapping your arms around him. Jeongin gave you a nonchalant pat on the back, even though his heart was racing within his chest. You beamed, "Guess what? I made candy over the weekend, would you like some?" you asked, biting your bottom lip. Jeongin nodded, "Sure," he said, internally waiting until you got to him when he saw you give out candy bags to the others. 

"Yay, here!" you said, giving him a full bag than the tiny packets you were giving out. Jeongin didn't realise the difference when he took it, the packaging was the same, sure it was a bit full but the others must have gotten the same. You gave him a big squeeze, "I'll head back to work. See you later," you beamed, skipping away from him with a contagious smile. 

Jeongin sighed, holding his chest, "Fuck, what am I going to do with them," he grumbled, hiding his face within his cubicle. You swayed your feet, drawing pretty hearts around his picture. You looked to your cubicle neighbor, "Hey, do you think Innie will ever like me?" you asked, hoping for support. "Well, he's the type to hate everyone. You might need to try a different approach," they said, ruffling your hair. 

You sulked, nodding your head, "You're right I'll think of something," you said, drawing out a little plan. Jeongin felt his eyes twitch when the coworker ruffled your hair, the pen broke in his hand as he tried not to lash out. He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose, 'One day, I'll secure a damn collar around your neck' he thought, imagining his name etched on your pendent before he walked away. 

You gulped, standing in front of a old tarot shop, "Hello?" you asked, walking in. An old lady sat with her crystal ball, "Hello, deary. I heard you're looking for a love potion," she said, rubbing the crystal ball. You gasped, "How did you know?" you asked, naive enough to believe in such fabbles. 

The old lady chuckled, "I see and know all, darling. Now, this is the potion you seek. You must be the first one he sees after drinking it. Don't use more than half, or else he might turn into a feral beast," she warned, knowing the viagra content in the vial is quite high. You nodded your head, "No more than half, understood," you said, waiting for the price. 

The old lady smirked, "A vial like this is priceless, I'll charge you a discounted price," she said, giving you the number. You sulked when it was half your paycheck but for Jeongin you'd do anything, "Thank you," you said, leaving the shop. Jeongin stood behind the old lady, "Quite the scam you've built here," he said, twirling his knife. The old lady froze, "Wouldn't you like you future read, young man?" she asked, trying to avoid her fate.

Jeongin pursed his lips, "No, I can't let people like you take advantage of my little doll," he said, holding the knife across the old lady's throat. "Wait, wouldn't you like to know what they purchased?" she asked, hoping that would stall him. Jeongin tilted his head, "I could care less. They can buy whatever they want. I'm a gentleman to their purchase privacy," he said, slitting the old lady's throat before she could defend herself. 

Jeongin took your money and reported the crime anonymously to the police, he burned his clothes and vacuumed the floor. He then burned the contents of the vacuum and fled the scene. Jeongin sighed and slid your paycheck into your mailbox, "Seriously, a leash is needed," he grumbled, glaring at your room window.

You wore your prettiest outfit, and held your basket of cookies. After making all the normal cookies, you began to bake Jeongin's batch, you did as told pouring half when you suddenly flinched at a loud crackle of thunder. "Shit," you whispered, seeing the empty vial in your hand. You looked outside and saw no rain, "Stupid thunder," you whined, staring at the pink glittery liquid in the middle of your dry ingredients. 

You sighed before smirking, "I wouldn't mind seeing Innie as a feral beast. Maybe he'd turn into a werewolf and a have a big girthy cock," you giggled, stirring the ingredients together. You bit your bottom lip, hiding the special stash within your pocket while you looked for him. Jeongin sat by his cubicle, hoping that the money he placed in your mailbox didn't get stolen. 

You beamed when you saw him, "Innie, Innie. I made cookies, want some?" you asked, handing him his special batch. Jeongin gave you a subtle smile, and opened the bag, "Thank you," he said, taking a bite. The cookies were soft with a crunchy edge. Jeongin tasted a hint of chemicals but brushed it aside, thinking it's probably the glitter you used, "It's really good," he praised, biting into another cookie. 

You smiled, your eyes turned into crescents from smiling so hard, "Thank you, Innie," you said, waiting for the potion to kick in. You gulped, needing to be the first one that Jeongin sees. Jeongin furrowed his eyebrows, feeling his control slipping, "What?" he whispered, looking into your eyes for answers. "Is the love potion working?" you asked, seeing Jeongin hold his chest. 

Jeongin panted, feeling his cock throb under his slack, "Love potion?" he asked, groaning from the sheer sensitivity his body was in. You gulped, looking at him with a guilt and scared expression. Jeongin clenched his jaw, "Don't look at me like that; like you're afraid of me," he growled, gripping your wrist. You sniffled, tears ruining your mascara, "Are you mad?" you asked, hiccuping under his feral gaze. 

Jeongin buried his face into your tummy, "Everyone else left for lunch right?" he asked, his voice deep and husky. You nodded your head, guilt filling you up, "Today's the one hour break," you sniffled,  lips wobbling at the thought of upsetting Jeongin. "Good, good. One hour should be enough," he groaned, lifting you up.

NSFW BELOW CUT

AFAB

"Too fast!" You sobbed, clawing the desk for any form of leverage. Jeongin groaned, pounding your little cunt with a brutal pace. His hands bruising your precious skin as he fucked you in the meeting room. Your body laid pliant, taking as much as his rough thrusts as possible. He already came twice and he was still hot and throbbing within your cunt. "Hah, hah, hhgh," you hiccuped, covering your mouth to muffle your moans. 

Jeongin clenched his jaw and held your throat, "Let me hear you cry, darling. I wanted to take it slow with you but just had to be So. Fucking. Naive," he growled, thrusting harder with every word he grits. You sobbed under his thrusts, you cunt spasming from the constant pleasure buzzing through your body. Jeongin pushed his hair back and rolled his hips, "Look at you, doll. So messy, so dirty with cum," he chuckled, eyeing your makeup stained face and semen stained outfit. 

You sniffled, clenching around his cock, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," you whimpered, wiping your tears. Jeongin kissed your palm, "You just couldn't help yourself, doll. You're so easy to influence," he grunted, thrusting his hips. You stared at him through your tears brimmed eyes, "Just wanted Innie to love me," you sobbed, heart squeezing at the confession. 

Jeongin held you close, his hips keeping their relentless pace, "Darling, I loved you from the beginning. Never once have I not love you," he rasped, nipping your ear. You sniffled, "Really?" you asked, pushing back with his thrusts. Jeongin chuckled, nosing your cheek, "Really, really," he said, kissing you softly. Your mind melted, his kisses contradicting his desperate thrusts. 

You arched your back, chest pressing against his as you creamed around his shaft. Jeongin hissed at the searing warmth coating his cock and came deep within your body. You gave him a few soft pecks, "Hehe," you giggled, nuzzling his shoulder. Jeongin raised an eyebrow, "What are you giggling for?" he asked, kissing your forehead. You hugged him close, "I'm just happy you're mine," you whispered, catching your breath. Jeongin chuckled, "Me too, doll. Now let's clean up as fast as we can before they come back from break, hm?" he said, kissing your nose.

AMAB

"Too fast!" You sobbed, clawing the desk for any form of leverage. Jeongin groaned, pounding your little rim with a brutal pace. His hands bruising your precious skin as he fucked you in the meeting room. Your body laid pliant, taking as much as his rough thrusts as possible. He already came twice and he was still hot and throbbing within your hole. "Hah, hah, hhgh," you hiccuped, covering your mouth to muffle your moans. 

Jeongin clenched his jaw and held your throat, "Let me hear you cry, darling. I wanted to take it slow with you but just had to be So. Fucking. Naive," he growled, thrusting harder with every word he grits. You sobbed under his thrusts, you hole spasming from the constant pleasure buzzing through your body. Jeongin pushed his hair back and rolled his hips, "Look at you, doll. So messy, so dirty with cum," he chuckled, eyeing your makeup stained face and semen stained outfit. 

You sniffled, clenching around his cock, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," you whimpered, wiping your tears. Jeongin kissed your palm, "You just couldn't help yourself, doll. You're so easy to influence," he grunted, thrusting his hips. You stared at him through your tears brimmed eyes, "Just wanted Innie to love me," you sobbed, heart squeezing at the confession. 

Jeongin held you close, his hips keeping their relentless pace, "Darling, I loved you from the beginning. Never once have I not love you," he rasped, nipping your ear. You sniffled, "Really?" you asked, pushing back with his thrusts. Jeongin chuckled, nosing your cheek, "Really, really," he said, kissing you softly. Your mind melted, his kisses contradicting his desperate thrusts. 

You arched your back, chest pressing against his as you creamed between your torsos’. Jeongin hissed at the searing grip engulfing his cock and came deep within your body. You gave him a few soft pecks, "Hehe," you giggled, nuzzling his shoulder. Jeongin raised an eyebrow, "What are you giggling for?" he asked, kissing your forehead. You hugged him close, "I'm just happy you're mine," you whispered, catching your breath. Jeongin chuckled, "Me too, doll. Now let's clean up as fast as we can before they come back from break, hm?" he said, kissing your nose.

[innerfare]

Eustass Kid Fluff // Angst Compilation

Summary: A compilation of Eustass Kid angst and fluff from my multi character posts (You're Wounded, Brushing Your Teeth Together, Flowers, Type of Date, You See His Cabin, Fighting and Making Up, Paradise, Nightmares, I Love You, You're Jealous).

Genre: Fluff // Angst

CW: None // SFW

———

You’re Wounded: 

Lectures you on your fighting form, tears into you for taking any unnecessary risks, gets on your case about not seeking medical attention fast enough. Tells you to get some rest, sits at your bed side until you’re better, claims he’s not there for you and is just resting his own eyes. 

Brushing Your Teeth Together: 

Was always too ADHD to stand in front of the mirror for a full minute brushing his teeth, always ended up wandering around the ship while brushing and then forgetting to finish; only started staying put when you began joining him. 

Flowers: 

If it’s at the point where he’s buying flowers, this man is so far beyond pride he won’t flinch at purchasing a bundle of pink tulips, even if they clash with his outfit/aesthetic. He also presents you one night with a bouquet of metal flowers he made himself. He spent ages on it, but he really didn’t mean to. He intended to make one but got absorbed in his work and made an entire bundle of dainty little metal flowers. He’s oddly proud of himself for making something so delicate and would be crushed if you ever got rid of them. 

Type of Date: 

He’ll take you to a concert, best seats in the house. He would prefer rock, but he’ll go to any concert you want. Honestly has no qualms about pulling up to an Ariana Grande or Taylor Swift concert with you, won’t go so far as to learn the lyrics but will nod his head and dance with you because he doesn’t believe people should be ashamed of their music taste (that being said, he can’t help but be embarrassed by just how much he likes Olivia Rodrigo; Sour is punk rock and Brutal is his favorite song, no matter what Killer says). He’ll buy you two matching t-shirts, too. 

You See His Cabin For The First Time: 

It’s as messy and ostentatious as you’d expect, but he sheepishly tries to fold the leopard-print blanket crumpled on the bed and put some laundry in the hamper, though you quickly deduce he has no clue which clothes belong in the hamper and which go in his closet. It’s shocking to see him care what someone thinks. He has a pile of lipstick and nail polish on his desk and an impressive collection of weapons he’s stolen from various pirates; he could probably open a museum with all the weapons he has. Also has lots of tools he forgot were in there. TBH, he’s probably as shocked as you are by the state of his cabin because he spends most of his alone time in his workshop, anyway. 

Fighting and Making Up: 

Actually loves to fight, lives to butt heads. Has a notoriously bad temper, meaning the two of you often fight. Serious fights usually happen because his temper got him into trouble. The number of arguments you’ve had while you’re patching him up because he got in a nasty bar is unreal. Your argument always over something stupid, at least in his opinion. He usually ends up storming off and locking himself in his workshop because he doesn’t want to yell at you too much but he’s furious with you and still has a bunch of adrenaline flowering through his bloodstream from his last fight. Alternately, he’ll start fights with you when feels like you’re keeping something from him, even if it’s something small, because it drives him crazy and he thinks you should be an open book. He's not really the jealous type when it comes to physical stuff, but he does get upset when you seem to have an emotional or intellectual connection with someone else, and that can cause some arguments. Oh, and fights are most definitely foreplay, so you can conclude how the two of you make up. 

Paradise 1: 

Waking up to fresh powder blanketing the ground and jumping out of bed, barely getting your boots and one of his coats on before you’re outside, romping through the snow. Falling into a snow bank with your arms out, giggling as you make a snow angel, grinning even wider when he surprises you by laying down beside you and doing the same, letting his inner child show through for a brief moment. 

Paradise 2: 

Escaping the chaos of life and climbing a desolate hill, sharing a late afternoon snack as you stare up at the clouds and point out different shapes, saying, “that’s you,” when you see a funny one. Arguing over which one of you gets to be the dragon cloud, your argument turning into roughhousing and the two of you accidentally rolling down the hill, him laughing and kissing your cheek when he knows you’re okay and then starting the argument again. 

Nightmares: 

It’s never like it happened with his first love, Victoria. And it’s always some way new. You fall overboard during a storm and drown, Kid diving into the water to save you but sinking due to his devil fruit ability, Killer diving in to save him but leaving you to die. You get deathly ill and he enlists the help of his ally, Trafalgar Law, to save your life, but he betrays Kid and kills you. He gets captured by a crew of enemy pirates, and when the crew comes to save him, you get killed in the crossfire. The nightmares just keep coming like this, you dying because he couldn’t protect you or expected someone else to do it for him. And each time he wakes up, it is with a renewed certainty that the only way to keep you safe is to do it himself.  

I Love You: 

You say it first. You say it a couple of times, actually, before you ever hear it back. You’re sitting in his workshop watching him build something, and you just sort of blurt the words out. You swear Kid hesitates before picking up the next piece of metal, but he gives no real acknowledgment you uttered those three words. Knowing exactly the sort of man he is and not expecting to receive anything in return, just wanting him to know how you feel in the moment, you aren’t actually offended, but you are wondering if he didn’t hear you. So, the next day in his workshop, you say it again, once more receiving no response. The third time you say it to him, catching him while he’s painting his nails, you receive a grunt in response (Kid is a man of grunts, not a man of words). Only in the heat of battle do you hear it back. He catches you around the waist and picks you up, and you fight thinking it’s an enemy, only for him to say, “I love you,” in your ear before deflecting a canon ball headed straight for the two of you and then setting you on your feet like nothing happened. From that point forward, he’ll say it, but only at inopportune times.

You’re Jealous: 

He doesn’t ever talk about his first love, Victoria. In fact, you didn’t even know she existed until Killer got drunk one night and began speaking of his dearly departed. What he didn’t mention was that Kid, too, had been in love with her. It only comes up the next night when you mention it to Wire, who mentions it was the death of his first love, Victoria, that put Kid on the war path and united the first four members of the Kid Pirates. Realizing Wire messed up, Heat chimes in to say, “he’d do the same for you.” But you’re not convinced, mainly because Kid never told you any of this. It tears you apart, leaves you tossing and turning for nights on end, until you finally burst into Kid’s workshop one night ranting about how he doesn’t trust you and holds you at arm’s length. “Heat says you’d do the same for me, but-” Kid cuts you off and says, “I wouldn’t do the same, I’d do worse. Much, much worse.” And from the wicked gleam in his eye, you’re inclined to believe him. 

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

hello hello can i ask for reader (either new transfer or someone they're just consulting with) hellbent on avoiding and not talking to spencer bcs he keeps rambling off about stuff everytime they're in his vicinity but they just have a really bad history of men mansplaining things to them so even tho spencer doesn't give off that vibe they just can't help but be sensitive to it 😔🤲🏻

tweaked jussst a bit gn!reader. i need to work on making my brain bigger so i can give more detail for spencer.

“well there many ways one can create their own bomb. they could use proper chemical equipment or just simple house hold items you can buy from anywhere.”

“well actually there’s only four ways to create one and most people go the homemade route. which is the most difficult to trace due to them being bought in plain sight.” a tall, skinny agent beside a man in the well pressed suit just reiterated what you said. you took an exhale through your nose to withhold an eye roll.

“yes, what i said. sulfuric acid is a common ingredient so i’d look into people’s recent purchases and cross reference that with their past criminal history.” you moved around lab as you shuffled and stacked papers, “if you need anymore help seems you already have someone with the answers. good luck.” leaving the two federal agents behind as you exited into the hallway with a tiny chip sitting on your shoulder.

what was the reason to seek you out if they already had someone who’d know their answers? probably once they saw who you were they wanted to intimidate you, that one guy wanted to show off that he knew the same information as you. no one ever gave you the respect in this department, many ‘colleagues’ have taken credit for work that you’ve done. they always talk over you or explain a concept that you already knew, seeing as you were in the same field as said mansplainer.

“someone looks to be in a mood.” oh great, if your hour couldn’t get worse. you didn’t bother looking at dr. fray, he was said mansplainer that always thought he was more inept when really you have a higher standing than him.

“since you left those agents on their own i stepped up to help them by giving further detail into their investigation. just helped save some lives, no big dealio.” your periphery saw how he walked with a certain air about him, one that many men carry without a care in the world.

you rolled your eyes as you kept walking to your office, “whatever. they already have someone who knows this information so we weren’t needed anyway.” you pulled your keys from your coat pocket, “well it was not fun walking with you. off you go, fray.” shielding yourself by throwing the door in his face.

you wanted to be away from any type of male for the rest of the day, not wanting to hear their unnecessary chatter, they just like the sound of their own voice. neatly arranging your files on your desk and placing your coat over the back of your chair you were ready to finish some documents when there was a gentle knocking to your door. you weren’t expecting anyone for a meeting so when you were faced with the lanky agent from earlier you couldn’t help as your face shifted into one of annoyance before shifting into neutral.

“was there something you needed, dr. reid?” arms crossed defensively over your chest. you internally hated how he seemed to know almost everything know to man and he seemed to be about your age. you wanted to rip your hair out halfway through your bachelors degree.

dr. reid’s mouth was pressed into a tight line, his fingers twiddling with this satchel strap over his chest. “i- uh i overheard a bit of your- your conversation and just wanted to… apologize?” he ended with a question.

your brows quirked, “apologize? for what?” confused on what was happening. men rarely apologized to you, you’ve been ran down on the street by guys who don’t care about anyone else on the street.

“i didn’t mean to overstep earlier. i understand to an extent what it feels like for people to talk over you or just ignore what you’ve said.” your anger melted just a bit at his words, “and i know for you it’s harder. there’s statistically less then 0.05% of non white males in many fields. i can tell you worked hard to be in this position, so i apologize for earlier.” his mouth probably ran just a tad faster than his brain.

you dropped your defensive stance, hands to link at the bottom of your stomach as you gave dr. reid a friendly smile, the first of the day. “thank you, dr. reid. i appreciate that you recognized your actions and acknowledged my feelings.”

he rocked on his feet, “you can call me spencer.” he said shyly, “also i’ve read a couple of your thesis. and if you have the time when this is over i’d- i’d love to discuss them with you.” you noted how his cheeks started to tint into hues of pink, it was cute.

“would be nice to talk with someone that has a fully functioning brain. you know where to find me, spencer.”

[wuxian-vs-wangji]

Love Sand: A Summary

For those who cannot afford to buy Love Sand, or don't know if they feel like reading it. This is a full summary, so of course it's full of spoilers. General trigger warnings for dubious consent, non-consent (one partner drunk), and revoked consent.

Love Sand takes place 7-5 months before the events of Love Sea, long before Mahasamut and Tongrak ever meet. The two do, however, play major roles in Khom and Connor's love story.

Love Sand's official English edition can be purchased through Meb.

If you order through the app, you'll have to buy a set of tokens and purchase it that way, If you order through their website, you can directly buy the number of tokens you need for Love Sand specifically.

Love Sand: A Summary

Before getting into this: Khom has a lot of negative self-image issues revolving around being thought of as a sex worker. I conveyed that as best I could here, but I want to make it clear that there is no shame in sex work, so long as it's something the person wants to do, is protected, and does not feel forced into.

Khom is 19, and just had his heart broken by his first love.

Type grew up with Khom, and Khom saw all the bad that came on the heels of Type being sexually assaulted at the age of 11 by a worker his father had hired. Type was hounded by media seeking to sensationalize an already horrible story, and faced the stares of curious islanders and people asking too many questions about the assault.

Type becomes viciously homophobic after the trauma, buying into every negative stereotype about gay people. Khom, who has always known he's gay and who has had a crush on Type throughout his youth, wants to be a calming presence. He supports Type, is his confidant and friend, and swallows his objections to what Type says.

But Type's hatred just keeps growing and growing, and Khom is finally sick of hearing it. He reveals to Type that he's gay, hoping Type will reconsider his homophobia after learning his best friend, who has always been there for him, is gay.

Instead, Type throws it all in Khom's face. He calls Khom a pervert, a slut, and is disgusted by his association with Khom.

Khom is very similar to Mahasamut in Love Sea, in which he will internalize the opinions of people he cares about. Type's words cut as deeply as a knife, and are the trigger for a lot of the plot of Love Sand.

---

Several days after Type returned to his university in Bangkok, Khom is isolating himself and trying to deal with the pain in his heart. He withdraws from everyone, and sits alone to mourn his lifelong one-sided crush.

Khom isn't good at making friends. He's friendly with some guys on the island, but not in a way where he'd turn to any of them if he's in pain. He's extremely introverted, and deeply isolated.

Mahasamut tracks him down one day at a kind of secluded beach the locals keep to themselves. Mut is an older boy on the island, around 21, and viciously charismatic. His business is word-of-mouth, and there isn't much Mahasamut won't do to make sure he's the first choice of every traveler.

But right now, he's in trouble and needs help. Mahasamut was jumped at a bar by a gang of local boys who tried to fuck with him. Despite it being 6:1, Mahsasamut won the fight, but slipped on a beer bottle afterwards and broke his leg.

Mahasamut has a visitor coming to the island the next day, who booked his services and whose business Mut cannot afford to lose. Even if he's the choice of any traveler who can book him, Mahasamut very much lives hand to mouth. Khom is the only other boy on the island who speaks English as well as Mahasamut, and he needs Khom to pretend to be him and play tour guide for 3 days.

In exchange, Mut will give Khom a cut of what the foreigner is paying.

Khom reluctantly agrees, figuring it will be a distraction from his dark thoughts and pain of falling out with Type.

Khom is instantly and immediately attracted to Connor, but he knows how dangerous that is. Connor has a wild playboy aura, and fierce green eyes that make him darkly seductive. He's also 11 years older than Khom.

With a shock, Khom quickly learns that Connor is completely fluent in Thai, though he pretends not to be around most people. Connor is Canadian, and on the island as part of a vacation tour of dive spots.

And that's all Khom is allowed to know. If he asks any questions about Connor's life, Connor quite obviously changes the subject, making it very clear that Khom is not entitled to any personal information at all. Not even how he knows Thai.

Connor is overtly attracted to Khom, and flirts with him constantly. Khom takes him to local hangouts, where the food is more authentic and people more themselves than around the tourist areas.

Khom gets drunk at one such spot, encouraged by Connor, and loses all sense of where he is. He's hot, so he strips, and attracts the attention of basically the Thai equivalent of siren.

In Khom's mind, the demon is coming to steal his soul, but he is too unsteady to fight it as it pins him down and starts jacking him off.

In reality, Connor has taken Khom back to his hotel room, and when Khom strips his shirt off, Connor pounces. He ignores Khom's protests and forcefully jacks him off.

---

---

The next morning, Khom is embarrassed to know he got drunk and the guest he's supposed to be taking care of had to take care of him. He also vaguely remembers having a strange dream the night before, but it's very much a dream.

Connor keeps taunting and teasing Khom, embarrassing the boy and keeping him on edge. Khom is fighting constantly against his own attraction to Connor. He doesn't want to be the kind of person Type accused him of being.

He isn't a slut, he isn't easy, he isn't perverted. He isn't the kind to have flings with tourists. Khom's had a couple of very short lived relationships in his life, all done under extreme secrecy. No one knows he's gay, not even his family. That's half to protect himself, and half because he didn't want Type to know he was gay, still hoping that Type's prejudice would eventually fade.

Connor wants to go for a dive, so Mahasamut sends Palm with a rented boat. But the boat is WAY too nice, and Khom realizes that Connor must be paying Mahasamut way above his normal rate. Meanwhile, he's giving Khom pennies for filling in.

Khom is supposed to be pretending to be Mahasamut so that Connor doesn't know this isn't the guide he hired. But Khom is so bad at it that he keeps forgetting, and it's obvious to Connor from the start. It is never confirmed nor denied, but Khom suspects Mahasamut somewhat pimped him out to Connor. Choosing Khom as his guide because Khom is physically exactly the kind of person Connor is attracted to.

While diving, Connor pretends to drown so that Khom has to give him air (they were freediving, not diving with tanks). To Connor, it's a cheeky way to get a kiss, hidden underwater where Cockblock Palm can't see them. But Khom is deathly serious about safety, and is absolutely enraged.

After that, Connor sticks to beaches, and apologizes constantly for playing. He also doesn't slow down his pursuit of Khom in the least.

---

---

The next day, Khom takes Connor out again, this time on a motorbike. Connor is very suggestive all day, and keeps Khom anxious and on the edge. Eventually, even though Khom repeatedly asks him to behave, Connor distracts Khom while he's driving and Khom nearly collides with a car. He crashes the bike, and while Connor is fine, Khom's leg is torn up.

Khom has to go to the hospital, and Connor is extremely embarrassed and worried. He takes Khom back to the resort and takes care of him.... but in a very Connor way.

He helps strip Khom, and then sits there in the bathroom with him while Khom takes a bath with maximum embarrassment. He also deliberately leaves the towel away from the tub so that Khom has to ask him for it while Connor stares at him.

Connor then makes Khom lay on the bed and take his medicine, which puts him to sleep. Khom is incredibly upset- he's ruined Connor's last night on the island, and now a guest is losing out on enjoying the area because he has to take care of his guide.

The next morning, Khom wakes in intense pain from the leg. Connor again gives him medicine, and tells him to go back to sleep. Khom doesn't want to lose the time with Connor, but Connor won't hear it.

When Khom next wakes, it's late in the afternoon. Connor has not only missed his checkout time, but he's also missed the last boat off the island for the day. Khom is again embarrassed and upset, but Connor doesn't care.

Connor then reveals that he actually extended his vacation the night before, and did it specifically because he's interested in the island, but also in Khom. Mahasamut has also given Khom as his guaranteed tour guide for his extended stay. This kind of reminds Khom that he's acting like a prostitute, wanting to sleep with the man who he's been hired to guide.

The next morning, on one public beach, while Connor is swimming, Khom is approached by a group of guys (Khom can't get in the water with his injury). One of them is Jun, a local who was once a classmate of Khom's. Jun's family had the money to send him to school on the mainland, and he's returned with his rich friends, making fun of how shabby the island is.

Khom loves the island as fiercely as Mahasamut does, and Jun pisses him off. Jun belittles Khom, and right then Connor reappears and steps in. He puts Jun in his place, taunting him and destroying him and his dignity in front of his rich little friends, until they laugh at Jun and leave him.

Jun is pissed, but Connor is massive, and so he is forced to back down.

Connor then takes Khom back to Mahasamut's truck (that Khom had for the day) and helps him finally vent some emotion. Khom is mad at Jun but swallowing it, and Connor encourages him until Khom finally yells in the car. As a reward, Connor gives Khom a kiss.

Khom wants to be bold a little longer, and so he asks Connor if he can request a bigger award. Connor has been pursuing him all day, and making it clear how badly he wants Khom. The kiss also makes Khom realize that he wasn't dreaming the other night, Connor definitely took advantage of him when he was drunk.

But Khom is so thirsty that he doesn't care right now.

Connor lays Khom's seat down in the truck and gives Khom the best blowjob of his life, but won't let Khom touch him in response. He swallows most of the cum and feeds Khom a little, visibly becoming feral watching Khom shyly lick it off his fingers.

But when Khom wants to return the favor, Connor just straightens up as if nothing happened and drives Khom back home. Khom feels embarrassed and humiliated. Connor is visibly hard in his pants, but clearly he's decided Khom is incapable of taking care of him. As the night goes on, Khom sinks deeper and deeper into just feeling like some slut.

Khom takes Connor to some dive spots over the next day, but Khom has to stay on the boat while Palm dives with Connor, much to Connor's chagrin. Palm clearly knows Connor and Khom are interested in each other, but Khom's leg cannot get wet.

The next day, Khom takes Connor to a secret beach, one of several the locals kind of keep to themselves. It's isolated, pristine, and quiet. Connor wants to have a picnic, but this beach doesn't have a dock, a detail Khom forgot about. To protect Khom's leg, Connor jumps into the water and carries Khom to shore.

Connor and Khom start making out, and a storm hits. They move beneath an overhang and decide to wait out the storm. It is then that Connor asks Khom how old he is.

All this time, Connor has thought Khom was 16-17. Somehow in Connor's mind that translated to jacking off a drunk and protesting Khom was acceptable, as was giving him a blowjob and making endless sexual overtures to him, but letting Khom touch him sexually was not.

When Connor finds out Khom is 19, all bets are off. Connor and Khom pounce on each other, and have sex on the beach for several hours. Khom is shy and easily embarrassed, which turns Connor on. Connor is into sexual sadism, and Khom finds himself overwhelmingly turned on by the hard and rough sex Connor offers.

But after the sex is over, Khom is again embarrassed. Partly for breaking his own rules and sleeping with a client, but also how shamelessly he begged for Connor to be harder and rougher.

Connor calls Khom "honey", but is clear that that nickname is not the term of endearment, but a reference to his honey-colored skin. He'll also call him "baby", and during sex "slut". Khom, hiding his own self-loathing and shame for having sex without any kind of relationship, calls Connor "pervert" constantly.

Connor and Khom are insatiable after their sex on the beach. Khom accepts that he's just a slut, that none of this means anything to Connor, but it feels good. They burn through condoms hard and fast, and Connor shows his truest colors in repeatedly forcing orgasms out of Khom, long after Khom as begged for mercy.

But that's part of what he and Khom both enjoy. Because Khom very much does enjoy it.

Connor also comes to Khom's house to have real, authentic local food made by Khom's mother. He's polite and charming, and interested in learning about Khom. Connor finds out Khom is in college, studying on the mainland to a degree (he's in a small local school in the city where the ferry to the island picks up tourists), and that is as far as Khom has ever been.

Khom expresses some jealousy of friends of his who have been to Bangkok, and how it's a dream of his to go there someday. It's a bit subtle, but he expresses a desire to go further, and some disappointment that he won't.

That night, Connor calls his best friend Tongrak, and makes a few demands.

---

---

The next evening, as Khom is walking with Connor along a beach, Connor tells Khom that he will be leaving the next day. His vacation time is used up.

Khom is devastated, but tries not to show it. He's fallen in love with Connor over the last week and a half, thoroughly and truly, and while he always knew this day was coming, he is heartbroken. Khom knows he has no right to ask Connor to stay, he's just some islander who spread his legs for the man.

Connor then tells Khom that he'd like it if Khom left with him. He tells Khom he arranged a spot for him at a university, a private dorm, and will give Khom a large living allowance in exchange for Khom sleeping with Connor whenever he asks. Khom won't live with Connor, and Connor will mostly leave him alone, but they'll have sex at least once a week.

Khom is shattered.

He already thought of himself as a slut for throwing himself at a tourist, but Connor's words are shredding what dignity he thought he had in believing their attraction was mutual. Connor knows Khom's family isn't wealthy, and he knows Khom helps his father with work as much as possible, so Connor helpfully mentions Khom can send the money back to his parents to make things easier for them.

But Connor, growing up in privelige, doesn't understand how that sounds. Like he's looking down on Khom's family and what they have. Like he's saying they're so poor that they have to sell their son into sexual slavery just to make ends meet. Khom's family isn't wealthy, but they have as much as they need, and they're happy.

Khom punches Connor and runs away, hiding on a remote beach as he sobs. Everything he thought he had with Connor was a lie. Connor only saw him as some poor island boy who he could make his personal hooker.

Every nasty thing Type said to him is at the foreground of his mind as he processes his and Connor's relationship through an increasingly negative lense.

---

---

Khom stays out all night, hiding from the world. He doesn't leave the beach until Mahasamut comes to find him there, letting him know that Mut personally saw Connor off onto the boat. He's gone for good.

And he knows what went down. Mut tries to console Khom by saying he should have agreed to it, then made Connor pay not with his money, but with his heart. That's what Mahasamut would do if he was in Khom's shoes.

Khom brushes Mahasamut off, and tries to go back to his life.

But Connor had pissed off Jun a week ago, humiliating him in front of his rich friends and making them dump him in disgrace.

Jun asked around locals who worked at the resort, and found out that Khom was in Connor's room most nights. He also found out the trash of that room was filled with used condoms every day.

Jun jumps Khom outside of a local shop one evening. He picks a fight with Khom, who initially tries to put up a fight in return. Jun outs Khom as gay to the whole island, which takes a lot of the fight out of Khom as Jun loudly yells about all the used condoms in Connor's room and how Khom is some hooker who spread it for money because his family is poor.

And then Jun really brutlly starts wailing on Khom, and Khom's only awareness through the pain is that everyone is just watching. No one is helping him. They look vaguely disgusted (likely at the overall spectacle, but he reads it as them being disgusted with him).

---

---

Khom loses consciousness, and Jun finally stops. A friend of Mahasamut's in the crowd calls the man, and while Mahasamut rushes to the area, the friend takes Khom to the hospital (you don't get the friend's name, but it's not Palm).

Khom regains consciousness enough to refuse to stay at the hospital, so Mahasamut comes and picks him up. The next time Khom wakes up, he's in Mut's shack, in his bed, with the older guy watching over him.

Mahasamut tells Khom that he bent arms and convinced as many people as he could to keep what Jun said quiet- about him sleeping with Connor and about him being gay. But Khom knows it's impossible for Mahasamut to silence enough people. Word has probably already gotten back to his parents.

Khom is terrified, positive his parents will throw him out for being gay, and feeling like garbage for ever sleeping with Connor. Mahasamut recommends he leave the island and go back to his dorm on the mainland, to give himself some time away for things to quiet down. Khom was already thinking along the same lines.

Mahasamut delivers Khom to the pier looking absolutely horrific, and Khom leaves without ever speaking to his family.

Over the next two weeks, Khom lives in absolute terror. He won't leave his room, barely eats, and can't sleep. Every footstep in the hallway he's scared it's someone coming to attack him for being gay. He won't answer any messages from anyone, and every ring of his phone makes him physically ill.

He also sinks deeper and deeper into every negative thought Connor's offer put into his mind. That he's only a slut, inhuman, delusional for ever thinking anyone could be attracted to him.

---

---

Connor, meanwhile, hasn't stopped thinking about the fight with Khom. It's eating him alive, and he's become short tempered and angry.

He knows he fucked up, that rage is directed inward. He arranged the university for Khom because he could see Khom's desire to study and grow beyond the confines of the island to learn and see the world.

He arranged the dorm to give Khom a chance to build his own life, because things could end with Connor at any time. That's how dating works. He wanted Khom stable. He mentioned sending money home because he misread Khom's devastation at his offer as Khom worrying about not being able to help his father with work.

And he mentioned sex in exchange because he's always teasing Khom with sex. But he fully understands how Khom could have taken it so wrongly, and is pissed at himself for not chasing after Khom and explaining it all clearly. But Khom blocked his number, and he has no way of reaching him.

Eventually, Connor has pissed Tongrak off enough that his friend tells him to just go talk to Khom. He has no vacation time left, so he flies down to the south on the weekend. He gets ahold of Mahasamut, who only tells him Khom is no longer on the island.

Connor remembers that Khom attended university, and so he gets a hotel on the mainland and intends to search the campus for any sign of him.

---

---

Desperate to at least forget about Connor, Khom installs a hookup app on his phone. He has thoroughly crashed, and since he's only worthy of being a slut, he will be one. He finds a guy who is a bit old, a bit dumpy, but it's a foreigner who has green eyes.

But when Khom goes to meet the guy, forcing himself to step outside, the man is vastly different from his picture. Khom becomes more and more uncomfortable as the man leads him up to his hotel room, and tries to back out entirely. The man refuses to take no for an answer and drags Khom through the hallway.

Just before the man can throw Khom into his room, Khom is saved by a furious Connor. Connor happened to see Khom in the lobby- this is Connor's hotel- and after weeks feeling guilty for what he did to Khom, he's pissed as all hell to see Khom following some random man up to his room.

Connor drags Khom to his own room and throws him inside, ready to fight. He calls Khom a slut, but Khom becomes immediately defiant. Khom doesn't see himself as having anything left, he's utterly drowning and doesn't know if he can survive, so he cuts off Connor and tells him he accepts the deal. He'll be Connor's personal whore.

Connor is angry, and Khom is determined. He throws Khom on the bed and is extremely rough with him. By the end he's more gentle, forcing Khom to cum until he's numb, and it's time to go to the dorm so Khom can grab a backpack of personal items to leave with Connor.

But Connor was rougher than he'd ever been, and Khom is covered in bruises.

After that, Khom retreats into himself. He barely speaks, and even then only when Connor pushes. The only thing he says of his own volition is begging Connor to not make him get on an airplane (Khom is terrified of flying).

He doesn't know where Connor is taking him. Literally all he knows about Connor is his age, that he's Canadian, and that he speaks Thai. Not how he learned it, not where he lives, not what he does.

Connor relents, and they board a 16 hour bus ride to Bangkok. Khom is extremely uncomfortable. Connor was well beyond his tolerance the previous night, and it physically hurts to even sit on the bus seat. Khom pretends to sleep the whole ride to Bangkok, but he's too sick to his stomach at what he's doing. That he's sold himself.

He let Connor go beyond his tolerance because he believes that as a sex slave, he has no right to say no to Connor. Even if he protests in bed, they are insincere and part of his and Connor's CNC kink they developed on the island. He never fights it, never limits it. Even though it hurt.

Connor watches Khom the whole ride. He feels guilty for the bruises on Khom's sides, and knows he has to be in pain. But Connor can't figure out why the boy let him go that far. He was trying to get Khom to stop him. Pushing the limits so Khom would push back.

He doesn't know what happened the past two weeks, but looking at Khom and really studying him, he can see the boy is way too thin, and there are dark, deep bags under his eyes. He is pale and utterly terrified of something.

The bus hits traffic and they get to Bangkok later than anticipated. Connor can't miss work, if he knew he might have been able to take a personal day, but everything happened too fast, and he has meetings lined up until late at night.

Connor rushes Khom back to his apartment, and it's then that Khom very pitifully asks if Connor lives in Bangkok, then quickly apologizes for asking him anything personal. He also only calls Connor "sir".

Connor realizes that Khom internalized what he'd done on the island- keeping personal information private to the point where Khom thought he had no right to know absolutely anything.

There isn't time to explain, so Connor just tells Khom he can put his things on the sofa, and Connor will be back late that night. Khom pokes around the room a little after Connor leaves, but doesn't touch anything. He was told he could sit on the sofa, so that must be the only spot Connor would let a whore dirty in his home.

He looks out at the city, so overwhelmingly different from home, and spends the day balled up on the sofa crying.

---

---

That night, Connor comes home to a pitch black apartment. He realized with Khom's question about his personal life what Khom must be thinking, and starts to put the pieces together that Khom genuinely believes he has no rights.

Connor feels crushingly guilty. Khom is a naiive boy, and he's always known this. He wasn't careful enough in how he handled Khom, and knows now Khom must have been in agony their night together before coming to Bangkok.

When Connor sees the dark and empty apartment, his heart breaks. He thinks Khom must have left, fleeing him and his abuse. But then he turns on the light and finds Khom stirring on the sofa.

While Connor is relieved initially, he sees the black bags under Khom's eyes are only worse, and what's more, Khom is still in the same clothes. When he asks Khom, gently, why Khom didn't shower, Khom says Connor didn't give him permission.

Connor's heart breaks, and just when he thinks he can't feel any more guilt for how he's spoken to and treated Khom, he dares to ask if Khom has eaten anything. Khom hasn't, because Connor didn't give him permission to use the refrigerator. Khom references Connor's initial offer, how Khom isn't supposed to be in Connor's personal home, he'll have a spot of his own where he's kept until Connor wants to use him.

Connor tells Khom to forget everything he said on the island. The home is as much Khom's as it is Connor's, and he has complete reign over it. He can sleep in any bed he wants, use the television, use everything he wants right down to Connor's toothbrush if he needs it, and empty the fridge as much as he wants.

Khom showers and Connor tries to coax some emotion out of him by asking Khom what he wants to eat. But every food Khom has heard of in Bangkok (from Type) are pastries, and Connor feels worse and worse seeing the flicker of hope leave Khom's eyes each time he tells Khom he can't have it (the shops are closed, and Khom will probably make himself sick eating sweets after not eating for days).

Khom shuts down again, and tells Connor he will eat whatever Connor wants him to. Connor takes him out and orders too much food, feeling worse and worse as he watches Khom devour it. Khom doesn't eat a lot usually, and how quickly he shovels the food down tells Connor how much he's starved himself.

Before going home, Connor takes him to a grocery store. Khom won't ask for or buy anything, he's acting odd again and has retreated. So Connor leaves him by the entrance to sit while Connor buys more food to fill the fridge up with, plus any prepackaged pastries still left.

Back at the apartment, he puts all the food on a shelf in the fridge and reminds Khom that the whole fridge is his to use as he wants, but also emphasizes that the foods he put there today, Khom should think of as his and his alone. It's Connor's way to try and cover himself- if Khom doens't believe he can use anything in the kitchen, he at least has to believe that there is food that is HIS and he can eat at will.

Connor then gives Khom a cardkey to access the apartment, so Khom can wander freely. There are only two in existence, his and Connor's. Khom finally starts to believe that Connor is sincere, that maybe things will be alright.

And then Connor hands Khom a wad of cash.

From Connor's standpoint: Bangkok is more expensive than the island by a mile. He doesn't want Khom to have to sit around all week until the weekend when Connor can take him places. Doesn't want him dwelling on things in the apartment alone, and wants him to have the freedom to go to pastry shops and see museums, all the things Khom mentioned wanting to do back on the island.

But what Khom sees is Connor giving him his first payment. Reminding him, lest Khom get too happy, that he's nothing more than a prostitute that Connor has bought.

Connor can't figure out why Khom's face goes completely blank. He doesn't even hear Connor anymore, just puts the money at the bottom of his backpack and pulls Connor to the bedroom.

While Connor tries to get Khom to speak to him, Khom strips and lays on the bed, forcing his legs apart and telling Connor to go ahead.

All of Connor's self-loathing and guilt come roaring to the surface. He repeatedly tries to explain to Khom that the money wasn't in exchange for sex, but Khom has completely broken, even further than he knew he could break. He won't listen to the explanations or excuses, he won't hear any of it. He begs Connor to just use him, saying he needs Connor to do it, because he can't take feeling any worse than he already does. He feels worthless and like garbage, and if Connor won't let him do the one thing he thinks he's worth, he won't be able to take it anymore.

Connor snaps. He tells Khom he has no interest in having sex with him, and tells Khom to instead touch himself while Connor watches. He reminds Khom that Khom can't get hard without some pain, and forces Khom to finger himself, even though he's still swollen and bruised from the rough sex 2 nights before.

But Khom is too tired, too heartbroken, and too overwhelmed. Connor unceremoneously extends a leg and shoves his big toe into Khom's ass, and between the pain and Connor's command- which Khom's body has always obeyed above Khom's own will- he's able to get hard.

Eventually, Connor withdraws and Khom's fingers take their place, but he still can't get off. It's exhaustion, the bad kind of pain, and on top of all of that, Connor is glaring at Khom with only cold disgust on his face.

And Khom doesn't know that disgust is turned inward. He thinks Connor is disgusted with him.

Khom's already fragile mind breaks and he starts to openly sob, and tries to get away. Connor climbs onto the bed and starts roughly fingering Khom while making Khom continue stroking himself. He ignores all of Khom's sobbing and pleas for Connor to stop.

In a way, this is what Connor has wanted though- Khom holds everything inside, he keeps everything to himself and doesn't express himself, and that's always been the problem. On the island in the happier times- he never knew how much Khom was internalizing the dirty talk and all of that. How ashamed Khom was of himself every time they had sex.

So Connor takes on a gentler tone and tells Khom to keep crying. Eventually, he manages to make Khom cum, and Khom begs forgiveness for getting off first, and tries to pull at Connor's pants, even though he's still shaking and crying.

Connor punches the bed and storms out of the room, leaving Khom alone in his own cum, still crying.

Connor is utterly disgusted with himself, more than ever before. He likes when he makes Khom cry in bed, but a desperate, horny kind of crying. Not that soul-crushing sadness.

Connor doesn't sleep all night, and neither does Khom. Connor is horrified by his own actions, and vows not to touch Khom sexually again. He also decides to hold off explaining everything. He needs to build Khom back up mentally, to heal his psyche first and foremost.

He intends to build Khom's faith in him through actions, and when Khom is strong enough and has had some good days and full nights of sleep, then explain it all.

The next day, Khom pretends to be asleep when Connor tries to check on him, and Connor leaves to go to work. He leaves work early and raids every pastry store he can find, buying everything Khom mentioned the night before and then anything that Connor thought had sufficient sugar content.

When he gets home, Khom is again gone. But he walks in a few minutes later- he'd gone to the grocery store. Khom won't look at him and is visibly weak. When Connor says he thought Khom might have left him, Khom just says he doesn't have anywhere to go, but will leave if Connor makes him.

Khom thinks Connor is mad about last night, about Khom not being able to satisfy him after Connor paid good money for it. And now he thinks Connor is going to throw him out on the street.

Connor reassures Khom that will never happen. He shows Khom all of the foods and treats he brought, trying to bring any warmth to Khom's face.

A cream puff does the trick. It brings back a little bit of light, and Connor basks in that. When it comes time to go to bed, Khom again thinks he's expected to have sex with Connor, but Connor only holds him, saying he misses his warmth from their nights on the island sharing a bed.

For the first time in weeks, Khom sleeps deeply.

---

---

Connor takes Khom on a date, bringing him on the metro to the mall he bought all of Khom's treats from, and buying even more, anything Khom's eyes linger on. He also takes Khom to a sit-down restaurant that has southern food, something Khom is more familiar with.

When two girls flirt with Connor, he makes sure they know he belongs to KHOM. Khom is already overwhelmed by how overt a gay couple can be in the city compared to the environment he grew up on, and is both touched and put on edge by how overt Connor is.

That night, Connor realizes with a start that he's acting as mooney with Khom as his father acted when he fell in love with his stepmother, and realizes he's now sincerely fallen in love with Khom.

Things get significally better for Khom from there.

Connor is always gentle with him, asks permission to even touch Khom, and refuses to touch him sexually in any way. The most he allows himself is a peck on the cheek when he comes home from work.

He is also very aware that Khom won't ask him personal questions because of his previous deflection, so Connor makes a point of bringing things up. When his mother calls and Khom's eyes are wide at Connor speaking to her in Thai, Connor goes out of his way to explain that his step-mother is Thai.

Connor tells Khom about his family- his father, his beloved step-mother, and his half-brother. He promises he'll introduce Khom to them when they next come back to Thailand (a yearly trip).

This does help pierce through some of Khom's still present thoughts about being a prostitute. If Connor thought of him as only a sex object, then he wouldn't introduce Khom to his family. That's something you do for a person you like, right?

Khom shyly asks for permission to get a job helping at the kitchen of a small local restaurant. He reassures Connor it won't interfere with his "duties" with Connor, and won't tire him out. Connor is worried about Khom feeling overwhelmed, he's still very much recovering from a massive breakdown, but he won't restrict Khom in any way.

Besides, the work gives Khom money of his own, and Connor is afraid of giving Khom money again, afraid of Khom misunderstanding and going back to his dead-eyed state.

Connor also, after a month, has sex with Khom again. But only because Khom would really like it, and he refuses to do anything rough (even though, again, Khom really likes rough).

This time, to make up for all of the bad in the past, he is as gentle and soft as possible. His goal is to make Khom completely melt with happiness. Eventually they can get back to their wilder sexcapades, but Connor won't risk Khom, not while he's still picking himself back up.

---

---

More time passes, weeks, and Khom has saved up his money. He feels more secure with Connor now, and is starting to accept that Connor doesn't see him as a prostitute, and probably never has.

Khom has been gone for a long time now, and he gets a message from his old college that he's now missed too many classes and won't be given credit for the year. Khom decides to go and formally withdraw, and go to finally face his parents back on the island.

Connor desperately wants to go with him, but Khom wants a chance to handle things himself. He feels guilty for hiding. He spends his paycheck on gifts for his parents, and a nice handbag for his mother. Khom will go ahead, and in a few days Connor will fly down to join him.

Either to meet Khom's parents as Connor's boyfriend, or to console Khom if they throw him out.

---

---

Khom leaves for the bus terminal (man will NOT fly). Not long after he leaves, Connor's best friend Tongrak shows up.

Connor wasn't lying to Khom about there only being two keys to the apartment, it's just that the apartment is owned by Tongrak, who has the master key. He cuts the rent for Connor and their actress friend Vivie in exchange for being able to wander in and out of their places whenever he's feeling lonely.

Tongrak is a writer, but is bitterly lonely. He has major aversions to romantic relationships because of family trauma, and relies on his friends when it all becomes too much. Tongrak wanted to meet Khom, he's insanely curious, but he is too late.

Something Tongrak does with Connor when things become too hard is to just sleep with Connor hugging him. To feel physical contact. They've done this since their college days, even though neither has any sexual interest in the other whatsoever, and to be clear this is not a sexual act.

Tongrak flings himself on the bed, ignoring Connor's grumbling that he's laying on Khom's pillow and his perfume is covering Khom's scent. He only means to lay down for a little, but falls asleep.

---

---

Khom gets to the bus terminal and realizes he mixed up one of Connor's bags for the one his mother's gift is in. He was getting the last bus of the night, but he decides to surprise Connor by going home and leaving in the morning instead.

When Khom gets back to the apartment, he finds it dark, and follows a trail of Tongrak's discarded clothes (man isn't sleeping naked, just to be clear, he just likes wearing layers) to the bedroom he and Connor share.

And finds Connor sleeping curled around a painfully beautiful man Khom has never seen before.

Khom drops the bag he's holding and Connor sleepily calls out "Love?" (in Thai), pulling the man tighter.

Tongrak's name means "Must Love", the "Rak" part, his nickname, meaning "Love". It sounds like a pet name- and what's worse, one Connor never used with Khom.

To Khom, it looks like Connor couldn't wait to replace him with another, more beautiful man the moment he was gone. That Connor must have been just playing house all this time, while keeping his usual men off to the side.

---

Tongrak is woken in the morning by Connor viciously cursing. He woke up to find a note saying only "Goodbye", sitting on top of the original wad of cash he gave Khom on his first night in Bangkok.

Tongrak feels horrific. They figure out Khom must have missed his bus and come home, finding them napping together. Connor has told Khom about his family, but Tongrak never came up. He doesn't know, and it must have looked horrific.

Tongrak is the level head in the moment. While Connor is going insane, Tongrak reminds him that Khom will take the bus, which is a 16 hour ride. The flight, meanwhile, is only a couple hours long and can get him south infinitely faster, and with time to spare.

Connor feels horrible, imagining how much pain Khom must be in. He grabs his things to rush south, pausing only to make one fast stop on his way to the airport.

---

---

Khom arrives on the island feeling worse than he ever has. He cried the entire bus ride down, and feels more self loathing and disgust than he's ever felt.

But when he gets off the boat, Connor is already there.

In front of absolutely everyone, and at full volume, Connor yells that he loves Khom, and belongs only to Khom. He shows Khom that he's added Khom's name to a tattoo on his back of a tiger- a tattoo Khom always liked to stroke when they had sex.

Khom yells about catching Connor in bed with another man, and begs Connor to just leave him alone. He says that if he's with Connor, he won't be able to stand the pain any more, and is scared that one day he'll end up killing himself.

Connor immediately reassures Khom that Tongrak isn't a lover, but a friend. Tongrak himself is waiting with his phone close by to explain everything the moment Connor calls- though they don't do that until later on.

Khom is in so much pain, but Connor is giving him a lifeline in trying to explain. At least for the moment, to stop the pain for a moment, Khom says he'll believe him, and lets Connor kiss him.

Mahasamut, the shithead who is all about the drama, starts the clapping.

Khom and Connor move to a private area, where Khom listens patiently as Connor explains absolutely everything. Every misunderstanding, his intentions, the meanings behind every action and look, apologizing and begging forgiveness the whole time.

He also calls Tongrak, and Khom speaks to him. Tongrak feels absolutely wretched for causing the misunderstanding, and swears he will also apologize in person.

With everything out in the open, Khom feels better than he has in months. Things are still raw, but he feels safer with Connor, and understands Connor's intentions more.

It isn't total forgiveness- it's mentioned in Love Sea, taking place 5 months later, that Connor is still extremely sensitive to mentions of what happened in Love Sand and Khom still gets angry about it, but they're happy, together, and Khom feels secure enough to bicker and fight with Connor (who always lets Khom win).

Khom goes home with Connor, and while Khom's parents have some questions, they accept his sexuality. They found out about what happened to Khom when Mahasamut appeared at their house the day after Khom fled the island, dragging a bloody Jun with him to crawl on the ground and beg their forgiveness for hurting Khom.

Mahasamut has also spent the months Khom has been away making sure everyone on the island knows the same pain will be brought down on anyone who fucks with someone for being LGBT.

Khom will live with Connor in Bangkok, but for the next several months, he'll return to the island once a month for at least a weekend- possibly up to a week- to be with his parents. Connor agrees, even if it makes him sad that Khom will be gone.

Also, in acknowledgement that it's kind of stupid that Connor had time to get a tattoo and STILL got to the island several hours before Khom, Khom agrees to try flying instead of the day-long bus ride.

When the next school year starts up, Khom will go to the university in Bangkok that Connor and Tongrak had arranged before Connor proposed his disaster of a deal back when they first met. Connor will support him through his studies, and promises to never limit Khom in any way.

Khom also receives a long text from Type. Over the months since he last saw Khom, Type has fallen in love with his roommate Tharn, and the two are now a couple. He begs Khom's forgiveness for everything cruel he said- both on the beach to Khom's face, and over the years that Khom has been by his side as a friend.

Khom forgives Type, and the two maintain a social media friendship, not meeting up in Bangkok, but staying in contact via SMS. Having Type back in his life as a friend helps soothe a lot of the remaining pain, and Khom feels more stable and secure than ever... Even though Connor feels a bit insecure that Khom is texting with his first love again...

By the timeline of Love Sea, Connor and Khom are mostly past their issues from Love Sand, and Connor has brought Khom to Canada to give him his first taste of international travel and show him the world. Khom has also been accepted by Connor's family, quickly becoming a welcome addition and favorite.

Meanwhile, Connor and Khom start to turn their attention on Tongrak, and think it might be a fun kind of chaos to send Connor's favorite annoyance (Tongrak) to meet Khom's favorite annoyance (Mahasamut).

Though neither can seem to decide if they'll hit it off, or if Mahasamut will annoy Tongrak to death...

[hidedino]

q!fit thinks that q!pac is simply choosing to stay blind to all his red flags when q!pac is in fact being very conscious of all of them.

we know fit's red flags are related to his emotional repression, insecurities and inability to address his own feelings. but that's exactly what pac has always been mindful of.

even when they were flirting around and pac seemed to be aware that there were romantic feelings between them, he wasn't ever pushing fit to go further he was ready for. he was being patient, calling them roommates when fit did, saying they're taking baby steps after fit had mentioned it the first time. he waited for fit to confess, then waited for the proclamation that they were dating and now is probably waiting for the first kiss too. he'd made sure that the quest from quacki was only a forehead kiss even if that was never specified in her request.

that's exactly the kind of attitude fit needs before he starts coming out of his shell. because fit is the kind of person who will do anything for pac. he takes an utter importance in making sure that pac is feeling well, has got everything he needs, has a helping hand always ready and knows that he's strong even on his own. those are the kinds of prospects which pac could absolutely use to push fit's boundaries and make him do things that fit doesn't want to, but would oblige if pac asked. this is an issue that comes out of many relationships for people like fit. a lot of the time their partners don't even do it consciously, it's simply easy to fall into the habit of expecting your partner to do everything you ask if they never establish their boundaries and you never consider to read between the lines instead of taking every "yes" at a face value. but pac never does that. pac is aware that fit needs patience so he automatically assumes to wait for fit to do something first without even asking about it.

and whenever pac is acting dramatic around fit he makes it clear that he was just joking after. he doesn't do it because he wants fit to feel obligated to prove that he cares for his feelings, but because he trusts him enough to seek reassurance from him. and he does it in silly ways because neither of them (and especially fit) are too confident in having serious conversations about their real feelings. baby steps, as they say.

so no, pac isn't colourblind, he's just purchased some paint and is now working on recolouring those red flags in different shades :)

and sure, i do hope that one day they'll get to the point when they feel comfortable voicing out their feelings, wishes and issues without beating around the bush. but they're on the right track and working on it instead of pretending that everything is perfect for them and i think that's enough for now.

[strangererotica]

EXPLICIT CONTENT | MINORS DNI

Stepdad!Hopper x Reader • age gap (reader is 21, Hop’s in his 40’s)

Please read PART ONE first! 🥰

@honeylavender-323 @mrshopper84 @reidsbookcase @currently0bsessedwith

Ahead of him, Hopper saw Starcourt Mall, Hawkins’ new shopping and entertainment destination. A shiny beacon of fun in an otherwise dull little down, Starcourt had quickly become the hotspot for locals to hang out. An abundance of neon lighting adorned both the mall’s interior and exterior, bathing its halls and storefronts in a dreamlike glow.

While Starcourt wasn’t Hopper’s idea of a good time, he knew you liked the mall. So much that you were apparently meeting a boy there tonight. On a date, which, to Hopper’s knowledge, would be the first you’d ever had.

Since meeting (and marrying) your mother a couple of years ago, Hopper had wondered when you might begin dating. As his marriage to your mother deteriorated, Hopper realized his feelings for you were becoming inappropriate. Maybe he’d always been attracted to you in some way…but as you’d neared your twenty-first birthday, the sexual aspect of his marriage had all but disappeared. It was at this point that Hopper started fantasizing about you, taking a perverted interest in your body that racked him with guilt. But not enough to stop.

He’d sunk so deeply in his obsession that Hopper truly believed he’d fallen in love with you. Regardless of whether his feelings were actually motivated by love rather than lust, Hopper’s desire for you was real…so real, he feared it could lead to something he’d later regret for the rest of his life. If Hopper acted on his urges, it would not only destroy his marriage, but also any trust you had in him…

Hopper assumed you must view him as a father figure. He’d been the only stable, older male in your life for a long time. Hopper had no idea you wanted him as much as he wanted you…or that your ���date,’ tonight was pure fiction, a lie you’d invented to test Hopper’s potential for jealousy. Your test had proven successful, far more successful than you’d imagined. Because when you’d pulled out of the driveway on your way to Starcourt, Hopper had discreetly followed, just far enough behind that you wouldn’t notice.

Upon entering the mall, Hopper checked the directory. Since the cinema was located on the upper floor, he made his way to the escalator and started up. The mall was exceptionally crowded that day, even for Starcourt. Hopper’s eyes scanned the many faces around him, seeking yours first and secondly, the face of the boy who’d somehow charmed you enough to secure himself as your first-ever date.

Your date being a lie wasn’t something Hopper suspected in any way. He genuinely needed to know, out of both a twisted jealousy and a desire to protect you, what this ‘boy from work,’ was like.

When he finally caught sight of you, a sense of relief washed over Hopper, followed by curiosity. You were alone. There were other people in the ticket line, of course…but notably, no one was standing with you, accompanying you. Hopper lingered far enough away from the cinema that you wouldn’t notice him. He leaned against a decorative pillar, the synthetic palm tree planted in front of him adding to his camouflage. Hopper lit a cigarette while watching you purchase a single ticket for yourself. He’d spent so long gazing at your lips, that reading them came easily. You were seeing Back to the Future; and therefore, Hopper was also.

When you disappeared from his view inside the cinema, Hopper took your place at the ticket window. He purchased admission to the movie, then lingered behind a group of people while you bought a soda and some popcorn from the concession stand. You checked your ticket, then looked up at the title displays to see which auditorium was showing your movie. You then headed down the left hallway, in the direction of auditorium three.

Now that Hopper knew which auditorium you would be seated in (he’d been too focused on you to check his own ticket for that information) he decided to hang back and take his time, finishing his cigarette while he waited. If he went inside too early, before the auditorium darkened and the show started, you’d surely see him. Hopper bought himself a pretzel, and kept an eye out for any young men who might potentially be your date. He put out his cigarette and finished his snack, then listened outside the auditorium to make sure the movie had started.

Satisfied that the room would be dark and noisy enough to avoid drawing attention to himself, Hopper made his way inside.

“Oh shit!” you cried, walking straight into Hopper’s chest. In an instant, his arms closed around you, instinctively protecting you. Even before realizing who you’d collided with, you recognized Hopper’s scent. You looked up at him with wide eyes and a confused expression. “Hopper?” you began. “What are you doing here??”

He tried to think of some way to explain, but couldn’t form a convincing lie quickly enough. Additionally, Hopper found it difficult to focus with you in his arms, a closeness that in the context of his feelings for you, seemed wildly inappropriate.

“I-uh…” Hopper stammered, before asking, “What are you doing? Why aren’t you in your seat-?”

“-I had to pee!” you snapped, prompting someone in the nearest row of seats to shout, “for god’s sake, keep it down over there, will ya??!!”

Hopper’s eyes glided over your breasts, pressed together against his chest. “Where’s Jack?” he whispered.

“Who??”

“Jack,” Hopper repeated, forcing his voice low. “Your date?”

Now it was your turn to improvise a lie. “He uh…I guess he’s not coming,” you shrugged, trying to play it off like nothing. Hopper huffed indignantly. “He stood you up??!” he asked, louder than he’d intended.

“Shh!!” the same cinema patron from before sneered.

“That ungrateful little shit,” Hopper grumbled, ignoring them. “He has the chance to go out with a perfect girl like you, and he fucks it up. Unbelievable. What a motherfucking-.”

“-Hopper!” you interrupted calmly, trying to cool his temper. “It’s okay, really! I didn’t like him that much, anyway.”

Hopper’s eyebrow lifted, along with his hopes. “You didn’t?”

A small grin shaped your lips. “Not really,” you replied. “Actually, he was kind of young for me, anyway. He was my age, and I really want a man who’s older...”

Hopper blinked a few times, before realizing he was still holding onto you. Loosening his grip, Hopper gave you the chance to back away; but you remained in his arms. He cleared his throat, feeling his heart rate kick up a few notches and his cock twitch against your stomach, much to his horror. God he hoped you wouldn’t notice.

“Ol-older?” he stammered. “I didn’t…I had no idea you liked older men.”

“Mm-hmm,” you replied, nodding sweetly, your tits squished wickedly against Hopper’s chest. “I do. There’s this one older man in particular, who I’ve liked for as long as I can remember, but…” You looked down, pretending to be shy. “…I’m not sure he likes me, too.”

Hopper swallowed, trying his damndest to lose his erection stiffening against you. “Well, uh, why don’t you tell him?” Hopper asked, his voice wavering. “This older guy, you know? Just-.” Hopper groaned, unable to help himself when you twisted slightly in his arms, adding pressure against his now-obvious hard-on. “-Just, tell him how you feel,” Hopper added. Suddenly, the annoyed audience member from before left his seat and approached you both. “Hey!” he whisper-shouted. “If you two can’t keep your goddamned mouthes shut, I’m getting security! We’re here to watch a movie, not listen to your fuckin’-.”

“-Relax, asshole,” Hopper retorted, removing his badge from his pocket and shoving it in the man’s face. “I’m the chief of police. I AM security.”

The man’s eyes went wide. “A call came into the station,” Hopper added, his voice full of authority. “Saying someone matching this young lady’s description was going on a shopping spree today, using counterfeit currency…” It took you a few seconds to catch on to the game Hopper was playing, but once you did, you decided to play along. “And I’d do it again, Chief,” you insisted defiantly, watching a look of shock fall over the other man’s face.

“…Well,” he said nervously, taking a step back. “It looks like you’ve got a real rebellious one on your hands here, Chief. I won’t stand in the way of official police business, sir.”

“Enjoy your fuckin’ movie,” Hopper spat sarcastically back at him. The man retreated to his seat, glancing back as if fearing you might commit a crime on the spot.

“You wanna get out of here?” Hopper asked.

“Yeah,” you grinned. “Let’s go.”

You exited the theater with a giddy little spring in your step…because Hopper’s hand was holding yours, walking you through the halls of Starcourt like it was nothing…but to you, it was everything. Just like a date, with the man of your dreams. And after the events of tonight, you were more convinced than ever that your dream was about to come true…

[depresssant]

The Villainess and The Madmen

It was just a dumb otome game that hooked you like a moth to a flame, and when you had completed the game, it was only natural for you to buy the sequel. So why... why are you now in the body of the villainess with people that suddenly don't want you dead? No. They want something much worse from you. And you don't think you'll be able to make it out of this hell.

Trigger Warnings: yandere, gore, death, murder, past child abuse, heavy childhood trauma, kidnapping, implied sa, and men. Please note that none of this warnings should be romanticized. They are simply for psychological horror. If you or someone you know experiences any symptoms similar to the men in this short story, run and seek help from a hotline or some designated organization.

Chapter One, Chapter Two (TBD), Chapter Three (TBD), Chapter Four (TBD)

Who would’ve thought you’d land yourself in a jail cell?

The cold nips at you angrily, and the silence surrounding you just washes reality over you like a wave. Arrested… bound to be executed, no? That’s the destined fate for the villainess of this otome story⏤so evil and cunning to the point where she poisons the female lead just for her own selfish evils.

It just so happens to be that you’ve reincarnated into the villainess’s body.

Really, you didn’t know what you were getting into when you downloaded the otome game, “Cursed Hearts,” after constant nagging from your friend. It seemed like the typical generic reverse harem game with a helpless female lead and cold and mysterious male leads, but as you played the game, you had fallen more and more into the trap of the game.

So is it really a surprise that you bought the sequel to the game⏤the one that explored a separate storyline with the pathetic villainess as the main lead?

Damn it.

Whatever god above truly does hate you.

You sit back down on the bed you had found yourself sleeping upon, and the reality of it washes over you again. If you’re correct, you’re now the villainess, Calypso [L/n], of this story and… about to get executed. The villainess’s execution occurred somewhere towards the end of the story after she tried to poison the female lead, but her motives were never revealed. Calypso was always like a faceless shadow, mysterious and like that of an illusion despite playing such a large role in the story, and that was what the sequel was supposed to be for. To explain and dot down Calypso like the game had with other characters.

Perhaps you being the only one who purchased the game back then should’ve been a red flag in itself.

Now what do you do? What is there to do? Why even get reincarnated if your next stop is to die immediately?

There’s no way for you to defend yourself since before getting detained by the imperial soldiers in the palace, the villainess, or you now, had explained to everybody attending the empress’s annual spring tea party in detail how she poisoned the female lead’s lead’s tea after the female lead had collapsed and was sent off to a doctor to be treated. So there’s no way of getting out of this. You already look like a lunatic enough as it is⏤

“Lady Calypso [L/n]!”

Huh?

The soldier that stands before the doors to your cell clears his throat, face devoid of any emotion. “You have a visitor.”

Visitor? Who in their right mind would visit you? You’re about to sneer and tell the man you don’t want to talk to anybody, but the figure that approaches the cell door silences you in your tracks. It’s Lilith [L/n], the female lead of this otome story. Even while covered with a cloak, her beauty still manages to shine through everything. She gestures for the soldier to leave before turning her attention to you.

…

“You drank the poison as well.”

“Well, good morning⏤or afternoon or night to you as well, my dear. I’m surprised the cure worked this quickly.”

“Quite joking! You mixed the poison into the kettle we both poured tea from. And you drank it. Why? What are you planning?”

Drinking poison? Calypso drank the poison as well? When you played the game in Lilith's perspective, it didn’t show calypso in the scene as Lilith was too occupied with her tea and thoughts. But drinking poison? Why?

Standing up, you approach the iron bars and wrap your hands around them, deciding to play into the cocky and apathetic villain Calypso is portrayed to be for information. You need to figure out why the hell you’re in this woman’s body. “Goodness, I can't believe you're up and running so quickly after such a potent poison. My cure really did work. How did you notice that, anyways?”

Lilith’s eyes narrow, but it’s not an accusatory glare, no, it’s one of frustration. “Calypso, your husband is tearing himself down to the bone trying to prove your innocence! I spoke to Daemon, and he said he’s willing to let go of the charges, so please stop your stubbornness!”

Drop the charges? Wait, this isn’t a part of the original story. So why…? Oh. This must be a part of the villainess’s route.

If you can recall correctly, there are six main characters to the story. The crown prince, the villain, the grand duke, the esteemed knight, the female lead, and the villainess. In the original otome, the villainess had three different endings to be killed. By the lovesick prince, her lovesick husband who happened to be in love with the female lead, and the lovesick villain.

This otome game isn’t just a typical love story, after all. It’s dark, evil, and the female lead suffers a fate far worse than the villainess’s in every ending.

You hold back a chuckle. “How would you drop my charges? Do the people even know you’ve recovered?”

“... Well… No, but that’s not the point! Calypso, please, just come back home!”

And Lilith never begged Calypso like this in the original game. She was still recovering from the poison back then. It leads you to a question of why. Why are you here? But you’ve got a feeling you know why, and you don’t like it.

It makes nausea and fear pit in your stomach because when you look up, you’re met with a status screen.

And it says:

𝘔𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘚𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵 - 𝘾𝙤𝙢𝙥𝙡𝙚𝙩𝙚 𝘾𝙖𝙡𝙮𝙥𝙨𝙤 [𝙇/𝙣]'𝙨 𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙩𝙚. 𝙁𝙖𝙞𝙡𝙪𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙙𝙤 𝙨𝙤 𝙬𝙞𝙡𝙡 𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙪𝙡𝙩 𝙞𝙣 𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙚𝙫𝙚𝙧 𝙗𝙚𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙚𝙙 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙬𝙤𝙧𝙡𝙙.

a/n : going back to my roots with this one guys. to my loyal babes, yall r gonna have to hold on a little longer for that part ll batfam fic I PROMISE IT'LL BE HERE SOON 😭. if u see a grammatical mistake, it wasn't me. anyways, here goes my shitty attempt at being aesthetic. uhhh, i'll also be making a taglist for this one, and reblogs r much appreciated. other than that, have a good day/night 💋💋💋

[jinkoh]

like ew, am i right?

sunwoo x fem!reader

wc: 0.9k, tags: smut (mdni), frat au, fwb except you hate each other, slight exhibitionism, fear of getting caught, pet names (sugar, good girl)

a/n: behold the (tiny) frat boy au i talked abt before--for those who remember me talking abt it~

masterlist

“Okay,” Siyeon said ceremoniously as you were all sat on the fuzzy carpet in the living room, “everyone name one frat that you’d never get involved with.”

“Hm,” Bora hummed, “Romantically?”

“Yeah, romantically, physically, in whichever way.” 

“Just one?” Minji shook her head with a chuckle before adding “TBZ, clearly.”

“Why even bother asking? It’s going to be TBZ for all of us,” Gahyeon agreed.

“Really? Is that so?” Siyeon turned to you, one eyebrow raised. “What about y/n?” Her sharp gaze made you feel like she knew. But that was exactly what made it so easy for her to get people to spill their secrets. You wouldn’t fall for that, not today.

“Uh, obviously TBZ,” you said, hoping to sound at least somewhat natural, “like ew, am I right?”

It was a childish rivalry between your sorority and them that had started long before you’d ever stepped foot on campus. The constant clashing seemed to be a tradition of sorts, an endless back and forth of pranks that ranged from silly to borderline criminal. Your feelings about the whole situation weren’t too strong, but you did hold a grudge against them for ruining a project you’d worked on before. Under normal circumstances, you’d agree with your sisters and never get involved with any of them. But the issue was the following: You wanted sex and he was fucking you so good.

“Did you miss me?” Sunwoo asked with a cocky grin, his hands finding purchase on your hips as he pressed you up against the bathroom counter. You shouldn’t even be here, the risk of getting caught by one of his frat members way too high for comfort, but you really needed this today.

“Dream on, it’s not you that I missed,” you retorted while your hands started fumbling with his belt, “just this.”

He huffed a laugh, “Well, at least you’re honest.” His lips attached themselves to your neck, sucking on your skin in a way that you were sure would leave bruises even when you’d told him so many times not to. You didn’t bother pointing it out again though, you could already hear his response in your head. But you like that. And he’d be right.

“Off,” you mumbled when you still struggled to open his belt, distracted by the sensation of his lips on you. Sunwoo chuckled and his breath felt ticklish against your skin.

“So greedy,” he whispered as his hands came down to help you, opening his belt and pants with ease.

“What, you wanna take it slow?”

“No,” his hands wandered up your thighs, pushing underneath your dress as he approached your core, “you know I like it like this.”

“Then hurry, we don’t have—” you interrupted yourself with a gasp when his thumb brushed over your soaked panties, “all night.”

“Your wish is my command,” he mumbled, lips still buried in the crook of your neck. With a swift motion he’d pushed your panties to the side, letting his fingers run over your folds and spreading your wetness. His thumb rubbed slow circles on your clit, and then, without warning, he pushed one of his fingers inside of you, the sudden sensation making you knees buckle and your hands cling to his upper arms.

“You’re so wet.”

“Do you really think I would to come to you if I wasn’t horny as fuck?” you retorted, but it didn’t sound very snappy with the way he kept drawing little gasps from your lips, especially now that he pushed a second finger in with the first, making quick work of loosening you up.

“With how much you’ve been seeking me out you must be horny as fuck a lot.”

“Sure,” you hissed, “so do something about it already.”

Sunwoo chuckled again and you didn’t want to find that dumb cocky side of him charming but you did. He pulled his fingers out, catching the gasp that escaped you with his lips, before he turned you around. Your eyes met his through the bathroom mirror and you watched as he licked his fingers clean with dark eyes.

“Bend over for me, sugar?”

Your face flushed hot with embarrassment and you averted your gaze as you propped yourself up on the edge of the sink and  pushed out your hips for him.

“Good girl,” he whispered and then he had your dress bunched up on your lower back and your panties pushed down to the middle of your thighs. You could vaguely see his hand move to his boxers through the mirror and then you suddenly felt his warm tip slowly gliding through your folds before he aligned himself up with your hole. 

Just then you heard familiar voices approaching from the hallway.

“I told you not to fuck with us again, Sangyeon.” Minji. 

Your gaze shot up to meet Sunwoo’s in a panic, but he just gave you a mean grin.

“Now be nice and quiet, alright?” he whispered, and you barely managed to cover your mouth with one hand as he already pushed into you, the delicious stretch making tears burn in your eyes and moans die on your tongue.

“It just turned out this way,” Sangyeon shot back outside the door, “We’re not fucking with you.”

Sunwoo chuckled, his lips way too close to your ear as he whispered, “I’d argue we are.”

masterlist ♡ pls consider reblogging if you enjoyed this ♡

[ghostface-knight]

i'd like to present my concept of nightmare time episodes where every (or almost every) person is played by the same person, inspired by jaime lyn beatty in daddy. here are some ideas:

peter spankoffski is done being at the bottom of the hatchetfield high food chain, and so he seeks out help to become cooler. he comes across ethan green, who, having just been left by his girlfriend lex, decides, "what the hell, i'll mentor this kid on being cool". when ted spankoffski learns that his little brother is hanging out with "that no-good ethan green", he confronts pete about it, perhaps a little too harshly. his intentions are good, but when has anything ever gone the way he meant? ted, like everybody in town, knows about ethan's reputation, and he thinks he'll be a bad influence on pete. he knows that, if anyone can, pete can make it out of hatchetfield, and he doesn't want ethan screwing that up. so he confronts him, and one thing leads to another, and eventually pete storms out in anger. ted knows if he goes after pete immediately, he'll only make things worse, so he decides he'll let him have his moment of teenage rebellion and then reconcile with him after. a few hours later, ted spankoffski, now drinking his problems away, is approached by a mysterious man who has somehow gotten into ted's apartment. wilbur cross, as he introduces himself, half-convinces and half-mind controls ted into believing that ethan is responsible for this, and the only way to protect pete is to kill ethan. he storms into ethan's tiny basement apartment, wielding his now shattered bottle of booze, and prepared to rip him limb from limb with his new super-powered companion. ethan can hold his own, though, and the brawl is a tough match. eventually, though, ethan manages to get the remaining shard of the bottle and shove it straight through ted's chest. as this happens, pete comes out of ethan's bathroom, revealing that he'd gone to ethan for comfort after his fight with ted. ted bleeds out on ethan's floor as pete holds him.

ruth fleming has graduated high school, and she's lucky enough to find a super chill job as a farmhand on the farm of emma perkins. one day, as they do their usual work (which isn't much, to be honest), they are approached by linda monroe, who is all but seething. she's goes on about how drugs are evil and she will not raise her children in a town where such depravity is taking place. they threaten her off the property, and they think that'll be over and done with. it's not like they've never had to deal with moralistic creeps like her before, and they've always come out the other side. linda comes back the next day with a petition signed by just about every member of the hatchetfield boating society. yeah whatever, perky's buds is not going to be dismantled by some stupid rich people who think they have more power than they do. in the midst of this, they've recently recieved a new client: 17 year old hannah foster. a quiet kid from hatchetfield high, who seems to have joined the smoke club as a way to make some friends. emma and ruth don't think much of it -- neither of them have any qualms about selling to teenagers, and business is business. however, hannah keeps coming back for more and more, and ruth starts to wonder if there's something else going on. back in the linda plot, linda has taken to bringing people out to the farm to protest. each day she (or, more accurately, the people she's hired) come with more and more people holding cardboard signs and chanting. it's really starting to get on emma's nerves. one day, while hannah is picking up her purchase, linda, surrounded by a mob of angry parents and hatchetfield adults, returns. suddenly, linda no longer seems like a nuisance, but a legitimate threat. her followers carry weapons and the menacing smile on her face tells emma and ruth that she isn't messing around. as the mob breaks through the door of the farm house, emma and ruth urge hannah to look for shelter. hannah refuses though, and emma swears her eyes begin to gleam almost inhumanly. the mob makes it to them, and are suddenly thrown back by a wave of psychic energy so powerful it shatters the walls of the house. hannah's new powers (on account of the weed) leave emma, ruth, and herself standing unharmed in the middle of a surrounding pile of groaning, injured people.

i have a few other concepts, but this is getting super long so i better leave it here for now lmao

[randomlyblues]

Yandere!Zane x Librarian!Reader

TW: Kidnapping not beta read

You didn't understand how you ended up in this situation. The High Priest of O'kasis was here at your doorstep demanding information that you don't have.

"I don't take lightly to people who waste my time, so I will ask you again. Where is the information about the Divine Warriors! This can't possibly be all the information that you have!"

"Again Sir, I don't have what you seek! They have burned all the knowledge about them years ago."

You felt a pinch of fear when his eyes widened a little at the tone of your voice that was directed to him. You didn't mean to raise your voice at someone with a high status as you but he was getting on your last nerves not getting the hint that this is all that you can offer him. You have heard stories about how he uses his status of being this 'religious symbol' to cover up his cruel actions and even take part in executing people, if they deserve it or not.

Zane was quite impressed with you. He's lucky that his mask is hiding the grin that was starting to form on his face.

He originally wanted to come to the village library hoping to bump into you. The first time he took notice of you was when he had to wed a pathetic couple. They wanted him to take a days trip just to get them married at a village with the name 'Phoenix Drop', making him stop with is work. That is when he saw you in the crowd speaking with an excuse of a Lord that they call Aphmau. The conversation was lighthearted but nothing worthy for him to pay any mind until you started to mention Lady Irene and how his name was in the mix of the conversation. The way you said his name made him feel a sort of way. Zane found himself wanting to hear it again. He kept a note to himself that you may be valuable to him, drowning the weird feeling he got from his name being spoken.

Later in the evening he caught notice of your snappy attitude and how you tend to be more to yourself yet also spare a kind smile to people. Zane doesn't understand why you have caught his attention, he found himself tracking everything you did. To him you were just a normal pathetic thing with knowledge he can use, yet here he was admiring the power he can see that you hold. He just wants to break it. No not break it. Absorb it. Make it his. Make you his. He wants not only the power of your knowledge but you. So here he was, after the celebration had ended, in your little library admiring the audacity you had to talk to a high being in such a way.

" Of course, my apologies for speaking to a lady in such a rude manner," he bowed to you. You raised your eyebrow at his apologies, you didn't take him as a man that would do that.

"It's nothing," you brushed it off not noticing the way he looked at you as you begin to look for a girdle it can be easier for the man to carry them.

" I am guessing that you will be purchasing instead of returning since you have such a ways trip?"

"Can't spare to give them for free?"

"Will you have my head if I don't?" You said ,not meaning for it to sound appalled by his playful tone. Zane started to laugh at your statement causing you to tense up. Oh this beating heart of his is making you less and less annoying than other people. Oh is he going to have fun with you.

"Why would I do such a thing? That is a sin in the eyes of our dear Matron." You took notice at how his smile reached his eyes when the whole night that never seemed to be the case when other people approached him. Maybe the stories about him aren't true.

"Yeah you're right that was stupid of me to even say"

"Don't worry about it, it was a nice joke. What is your name?" It was a useless question to even ask since he already got his guards to find out for him a few minutes prior in order to find this place. You tell him your name.

" That is such a lovely name."

" Why thank you High Priest," you bow. Oh did he enjoy that. A weak thing like you bowing to him and looking at him like that. What he would do is just for you to look at him with those eyes for all eternity. Yet the way you say his status instead of his actual name caused him to make an unsatisfied face.

"Would you like to accompany me to my ship to help me?"

You took a moment to think about it. It wasn't an unusual request from people so you didn't know why you were so hesitant. It was probably just the tales about him that have stopped you or maybe the fact he has guards that could do that for him. Realizing you have taken a while to reply you tell him yes and follow.

After helping him with the books you tell him about his payment.

"Oh yes of course."

Before you knew it, you were knocked out quickly. Zane looked down at your unconscious state. Oh how pathetic and vulnerable you were, don't worry he would take care of you.

Part 2

[theemporium]

this is literally just a random wee blurb for the inexperienced!pornstar!steve x experienced!pornstar!reader series because i just wanted an excuse to write them🤠anyways! enjoy! feel free to send more concepts i can work on after smutober!

masterlist

.

“Pleasepleasepleaseplease—”

“You’re such a pretty beggar for me, Stevie,” you cooed, your words dripping with that sweet, condescending tone that always made him squirm. 

His chest heaved. “I-I can’t—”

“You can. And you will.” There was no room for discussion. “Be a good boy for the camera. They wanna see my good boy come.” 

Steve was almost embarrassed to admit to you his complete lack of experience when it came to toys. Well, to be honest, he lacked experience in more factors than you’d expect for a pornstar with his following, but the toys shocked you. 

He wasn’t a complete idiot. He had watched other people use them on themselves. He had seen Eddie scroll through websites before purchasing them. Hell, Eddie had even shown Steve his collection a few times. 

But it never occurred to Steve that he could use them too. He didn’t even really think it was a guy thing until Eddie. And then after that, he just didn’t know where to even start. He didn’t think people would have been interested. 

A fact he would come to learn he was very, very wrong about. 

You had introduced a whole new world to him. And his audience loved it. They loved watching him whine and whimper at the end of the bed whilst you fucked yourself. They loved watching you slowly work him open with plugs and all sorts that he never dared to consider using on himself. They loved watching you tie him up with fluffy handcuffs and place a blindfold over him as you teased him with the wax candles you had ordered from a website Eddie had recommended. 

But he knew they would love this even more. 

“I’m sorry,” he sobbed out, his eyes glossy and wet with tears that streamed down his flushed cheeks, but you don’t think he had ever looked prettier. “I wanna be your good boy. Please let me be your good boy.”

His hands strained against the ropes tying him to the headboard as he watched you slowly crawl up the bed. He hated the distance you kept from him, from touching him like he so desperately wanted you too. He hated that instead of touching him, your fingers were wrapped around the little, black remote that had been the cause of all his pain and pleasure in the last forty minutes.

“You’re such a good boy for me, Steve,” you hummed, your eyes glancing down to his cock. He was hard—painfully hard—and his tip was red and swollen, leaking with need that only his release could give him. “Taking it all so well, baby, so fucking well.”

The buzz echoed through the bedroom, taunting and teasing him as your thumb hovered over the remote buttons. His hips bucked upwards as the buzzing suddenly increased, a choked out moan leaving his lips as he desperately sought his release. 

“Please,” he cried out, his voice cracking as his big, brown eyes looked at you, pleading. 

Your eyes glanced over to the camera set up in the corner of the room, standing proudly on the tripod with its red light blinking at you. You then turned to look down at the squirming boy beneath you, his abs softly clenching as he tried to fight the urge to buck his hips in the air aimlessly. 

“Do you think you deserve to come?” You asked him simply.

His lips parted, eyes darting over your face.

“It’s not a trick question, pretty boy,” you murmured with a smile on your lips. “Do you think you deserve to come?”

He gulped. “Yes, ma’am.” 

Your finger lightly traced along his jaw. “And where do you wanna come, baby?”

“Inside you,” he whimpered out, his head turning in a desperate attempt to seek out your touch a little longer. “Wanna fill you up. Please, let me fill you up. I’ve been so good, baby, so fucking good. Just wanna give you something too.”

You softly bit your lower lip, feeling the coil in the pit of your stomach tighten. “Yeah, pretty boy? You gonna fill me up all nice and good?”

“So good,” he whined. “Not gonna let a single drop spill. Promise.”

“How can I say no to that?” You murmured as you leaned down, your lips brushing against his as your thumb pressed down on the remote once again. “Just a little longer and then maybe you’ll get what you want, pretty boy.”

“But—” He was cut off by his own desperate cry.

“You said you weren’t gonna waste a drop, pretty boy. So don’t.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

.

[phroobin]

Yeah ya know a master post would be helpful if it wasn’t too much trouble for you sir. :3

Siffrin Cosplay Master Post

Before I start, here's a disclaimer: this is just what I did. I'm one singular cosplayer out of many and I am by no means an expert, nor are my methods the only way to cosplay Siffrin. I've seen so many other incredible interpretations, and they're all equally valid and cool, and you should seek advice from them, too!!! This master post is simply to help others if they need any advice, because I do get these questions a lot and people have asked for this master post!

✧ Hat and Cloak

I made both of these myself, so they're not bought from anywhere but I'm certain you can find someone who could make them on etsy! If you're wanting to attempt these yourself, I followed this tutorial for the hat and this tutorial for the cape and used a sewing machine to save myself from hand stitching everything.

I used this fabric in the colour ivory for both the hat and the cloak so that they match, and I chose it because it's a pretty heavy fabric so it hangs really nicely. If you're not based in the UK I've been told this link doesn't work so the fabric I used is 80% Polyester 18% Viscose 2% Elastane (though if you can't find this exact combination, something with similar makeup should do fine) and I believe it's called Softcoat Fabric. It does fray quite a lot so you probably want to get some fray check, or do a rolled hem to contain it! I went with the former option, as I didn't really fancy trying to do a rolled hem on a curve.

If you choose to use this fabric for a matching hat too, you'll need a decent amount of heavyweight iron on interfacing. The brim took 4 layers of it, and the cone shaped part took two so just be aware of that.

✧ The wig

My Siffrin wig is a combination of a couple of wigs that are sewn together to create his signature hairstyle.

I'm based in the UK and swear by a company called Coscraft, who are the company I bought my two wigs from. I chose their Super Maru wig (the curl patterns were what I was looking for for that messy look!) in both titanium blonde and natural black, and had to cut wefts out of the back parts of both wigs. Once that was done, then sewed the harvested black wig wefts into the back of white wig using a curved needle and a wig head. I then also glued, cut, and styled some longer wefts (one on each side) in the same titanium blonde colour into the front of my Sif wig to be their longer front pieces.

Essentially for something like Sif's hair where it's two toned, it's unlikely you'll be able to find a wig that's made with both colours so you sort of have to DIY the hell out of it! If you're looking for an easier method, you could always look at using synthetic dye on the under part of the white wig, or I believe I've seen some cosplayers in the past use sharpies to colour wig fibres.

Additionally, to style the bangs, I used this method to give texture and staying power before hairspraying everything into place with Got2B Glued Freezing Blast. At the very ends of the spikes, I used a little Uhu glue to keep the strands together.

✧ The eyepatch

Honestly folks, this one was just an amazon purchase. You just need to search for a black eyepatch, but my exact one was this one. At some point, I'll be sewing myself a new one because mine is slightly too big for my face and rides up a little bit but when I do that I'll link to a guide.

✧ Other clothing

I already owned the majority of this outfit, so no real recommendations. My black shirt is a long sleeved tee from Uniqlo. The exact one is actually a thermal shirt because it's the only one I own but I WILL be getting a light weight one so I don't sweat to death. My trousers are just black denim skinny jeans because I see Siffrin as having tiny little stick leggies and my boots (again, already owned - they're these shoes, in black) work best with them because they kinda blend together.

✧ The pins

I spent a LONG time looking for Siffrin's cloak pins. I was searching for oversized safety pins and realised quite quickly that the size wasn't right, and neither was the shape. I'm not going to tell you exactly which pins I bought because I spent a long, long time trying to find ones that looked like Siffrin's and I kinda like having this one thing that is maybe unique to my cosplay.

That said, I do have some advice!! Look for kilt pins!! They're large and heavy duty, and come in different styles! Finding this type of pin had a name was an absolute godsend, so hopefully this helps y'all find something similar!

✧ Additional things

I couldn't find a knife. I'm gonna have to eventually get someone to sculpt and 3D print one for me. If anyone in the ISAT fandom has these skills, hit me up. Same goes for a silver coin!!

I also have a little thigh holster bag (in tobacco brown) that I use when cosplaying Siffrin to keep props/my glasses/wallet etc in. It attaches to my belt (something I also wear when cosplaying Sif, as well as in regular life) and the thigh holster bag was originally bought for a motorbike journey I took with a friend, but it gives off a rogue vibe and I really like it as an additional, but not essential, part of my cosplay! I also actually use it a lot for my Astarion cosplay for the same reasons!

Anyway, I think that's everything. If you have any other questions, drop me an ask or comment here. Good luck, cosplayers!

[catscidr]

// aquarium (i want you dead or alive) //  

i. note — hihihi enjoy this short thing i did as a warmup to get my brain juices flowing _(:3」∠)_ this was inspired by aquarium from funny boy matt watson (its a good song trust)…..heard the chorus n went "wow this sure does remind me of someone" ii. includes — modern au akademiya (university) student dottore, gn!reader  iii. cw — stalking and yandere tendencies, obsession, smoking, blood, homicidal thoughts. no dialogue; just dottore nd his thoughts. also not quite proofread ₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ iv. wc — 1k -> now also on ao3 (b˙◁˙ )b

It’s hard to ignore things when your brain is so hellbent on making you notice. 

Forcing your eyes to flit over every single inch of a room you walk in, making your legs carry you towards something that, unconsciously, caught your attention because they just happened to remind you of something. 

When it’s curiosity driven it isn’t too bad, since the worst that can happen is a slight pang of disappointment when your curiosity isn’t sated from your inquisition.

It’s an entirely different problem when the urge to look for something specific is caused by a deep-rooted obsession with something. 

Someone. 

And it’s even worse when you see things in places where they simply are not. 

Walking out of the Akademiya to seek shelter at the dingy bus stop the city can’t bother fixing, catching a glimpse of the poster on the side of it. A model posing with a bottle of perfume stares back, the advertisement almost mocking him as he stops walking shy of being under the bus stop’s roof. 

Its face morphs into one he’s all too familiar with instead of being a stranger’s, and his mouth inhales more air than it needs to. 

Stepping into the squalid convenience store near his flat to grab an energy drink and a pack of cigarettes, wordlessly paying for the items until the cashier says ‘have a nice evening’ in a tired, unenthusiastic tone. Hands faltering for a millisecond as he awkwardly grabs what he purchased, immediately taking out and lighting up a dart to exhale the agitation simmering inside his gut. 

The pitch of their voice was uncannily close to yours. 

Slamming his apartment door shut and kicking his shoes off, dragging himself into his room to make good use of the energy drink he just bought. Opening his laptop only to be met with the sight of sanguine boring into the screen before it dissipates and the screen lights up, displaying his hard work. 

Curtains drawn at all hours of the day, his bedroom was no stranger to gloom. Though void of any natural luminescence, multiple copies of your face smile back at him. 

He exhales smoke through his nose, tapping the excess ash forming at the tip of his cigarette into a tray and takes a sip of his drink, never blinking. 

... 

To him, not having any classes together didn’t matter at all. Didn’t even make a single difference. 

None. 

Because sitting in the same lecture hall as you wouldn’t matter or change a thing, since he would be just as far away in that hypothetical than if he were in a different class.  

Which he is. 

His grades are high enough that he can afford to ditch his class to loiter in the vicinity of your classroom instead. You don’t speak much, but he doesn’t particularly care since it allows him to listen. To memorize the sound of your chair screeching as quietly as it can behind you, memorize your tendency to be one of the first people to leave the class in order to rush to your next one. 

Memorize how you fail to take notice of your surroundings on days like these where you have a class right after the other, as he watches your legs work overtime to carry you to the other side of the building to make it in time. 

It lets him think, undisturbed. 

... 

He never musters up the courage to speak to you. You only spoke because he was careless and accidentally made himself noticeable in the sea of students one too many times, and he apparently looked so out of place that you sparked up a conversation with him despite not being the type to reach out first. 

Maybe God was playing with him by making you do something he hadn’t predicted. The conversation itself was brief, but long enough for him to want to talk to you again. 

And for you to want to talk to him again, too. 

...And talk to you again he does when you spot his minty bedhead in the library and sit across from him, making his poor heart leap out of his chest, bringing one hand down to close his laptop screen a little too harshly. Bile rose in his throat; too engrossed in his research, he hadn’t heard you approach him at all. A fault he’ll have to rectify later. 

After you apologize in his stead to the students that gave you both a side-eye for making noise, God how he wants to pluck each and every single one of their eyes out, you take out your own laptop from your bag and open it up to get to work alongside him. 

He tries to keep his mind at bay for now, wanting to enjoy his impromptu date with you. 

... 

Washing blood off his clothes has always been a hassle, especially considering how he had to walk to the laundromat to do so. He somehow always has a stain somewhere on his person, whether it’s from accidentally hurting himself or from his proneness to getting nosebleeds. 

Or other reasons. 

Standing over the sink, he watches the liquid drip from his nose down to the porcelain basin. Observing the pattern it makes as it slides down the drain, watching the vibrant red turn into slithers of watery vermillion. He clutches the edges of the sink tightly, letting himself fantasize about assaulting the students from a few hours ago. Cleaning their blood off of his shirt, then watching his clothes tumble in the washing machine in the laundromat. 

Now that he was alone, he shuts his eyes and sighs. He refused to let himself think anything less than pure thoughts around you lest you somehow gain the ability to read minds and decide to read his, if they could even be called that. 

They were more akin to promises than anything else. 

Opening his eyes, he’s met with more red than white, his nose’s blood having taken up more surface area than the sink itself. Some had even gotten on his previously pristine collar. 

Zandik glances up, staring at his stained button-up in the mirror. 

Maybe he wouldn’t wash your blood off of his clothes.