#living breathing stereotype

[ronithesnail]

As a nonbinary person, the amount of monster i drink is going to mutilate my body far more than any surgery or hrt i get.

[lesbiansforlucio]

Does anyone even care about Tales from the Pizzaplex? Probably not. Have the Pressure friend group before everything went to hell.

[rowarn]

bizarre thought.....shadow entity!ghost..... @sgtgarricks is responsible for this!!!

i already want to write another part to this LMAOOOOOOO

part : two

when you first moved into your new house, you knew it was old and had been vacant for a looooong time. it had a bizarre history of people living there and moving out months, even weeks later. most people declined offering a reason for their quick move but others would just vaguely supply that the 'energy was dark in that house', you weren't bothered.

it was a nice, big, house and for damn cheap too. you weren't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

your first nights in the house, you understood what they meant. there was something off about the house for sure. at random times, you would feel the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, as if alerting you to danger. when you would turn around, there was nothing there. but it would leave you with sweaty palms and a racing heart.

it wasn't until a week into your new life that the first weird thing happened. it was like something from a stereotypical horror movie. you heard a strange sound and got out of bed to investigate. when you got to your kitchen, all the cabinets and drawers were open and your kitchen chairs were placed on top of your table -- which had also been moved across the kitchen.

you tried to take some deep breaths to calm yourself as you returned everything back to normal. you went over and over in your head for some kind of explanation for the event before finally landing on the fact that this house was fucking haunted.

strange events kept happening after that. lights would turn on, your kitchen cabinets would be open, sinks and showers would turn on, doors would slam from across the house. you were losing sleep over it. every single night you'd be woken up by some strange event and you were beginning to understand why the past tenants had moved out so fast.

this was a rotten way to live.

the final straw for you was the night the activity really seemed to ramp up. whatever spirit was haunting you wanted you out now. multiple doors slammed, jolting you from your sleep -- your heart racing from how hard you had been startled from your dreams. you got to your feet and turned on your lamp only to find it wasn't working.

next, you tried the overhead light. same thing.

fuck. it had caused the power to bust.

now you were really scared.

you grabbed your phone, using the flashlight to navigate your way out of the bedroom. the floorboards creaked beneath you, considerably louder without the hum of electricity.

you were halfway down the hall when you heard it. quiet at first, but definitely there. footsteps. mimicking your own, as if echoing after you took your own steps, making sure you knew it was there.

you spun around, shining the light upon nothing. you let out a heavy breath, noticing the way the flashlight shook from how hard you were trembling.

"a-alright, ghost," you called into the empty house, too scared to feel stupid that you were talking to nothing, "i-i'll admit i'm pretty scared right now. i-i know you probably want me out of your house. this is your house, i get it. bu-but i already sunk all my damn savings into moving in here s-so i can't leave!" you swallow, a loud gulping sound that would be funny if you weren't about to piss yourself, "s-so if we could just live together for a little while longer. i-i promise i'll get out the second i have the money!"

there was nothing but tense silence. you felt like an idiot the more seconds that passed. were you trying to make a deal with a fucking ghost? a spirit of someone who probably died in this house? what kind of shit had your life become?

you peered into the inky blackness of the hallway, blinking as you try to futilely see. it takes you a moment to realize you're not just staring into the darkness of your hallway. it's something else.

pure darkness. a dark entity taking form in the blackness of the night. you want to step back, primal fear coursing through you like you never felt before. whatever fear you were feeling was primordial in nature -- as if this entity was something you were born to fear.

the darkness began to swallow up the hallway, eating away at the light your flashlight had created. the air felt heavy and oppressive, making it difficult to take in oxygen.

you swear you could feel hands on you, grabbing you and pulling at you. the longer you stared into the darkness, the more you thought you could see things. eyes. hundreds of eyes. but when you blinked, the images vanished.

then, all at once, the entity was gone and your light was shining down the hallway again unimpeded. after another second, the sound of the electricity slamming back on filled the house and you collapsed to your knees.

whatever that was, it was dangerous. you knew that now.

but it didn't hurt you. perhaps it agreed to your terms and would leave you be now?

oh how wrong you were. sure, it wasn't nearly as scary as that night but now you saw it.

around every turn.

you could see the shadow take shape from the corner of your eye but when you looked, it would be gone. you would be brushing your teeth and when you looked in the mirror, it stood behind you, making your heart leap out of your chest. when you would turn, it wasn't there.

you were no longer woken up in the night, at least. but you weren't sure if you preferred the regular haunting stuff to seeing the ghost or not. you were on the fence about which was worse.

after another scare from the ghost, you jumped so hard that you almost fell over, "alright you -- ghost! will you quit scaring me like that!?" you found yourself shrieking.

to your abject horror, you heard laughter in return.

the shadow shit was fucking laughing at you. like it was enjoying this.

it wasn't evil laughter either. it sounded like pure enjoyment.

you suppose it wasn't out of the realm of possibility for a ghost to make sounds but it didn't make it any less horrifying.

you started talking to it more after that. once you heard its voice - sort of- it became easier. the fear also dissipated in time. sure it would jump scare you from time to time to get a laugh but other than that, it became like living with a really annoying roommate.

"will you get out of my mirror!" you snapped, mouth full of toothpaste with you facemask on. its disappearance was marked with its mirthful laughter.

you also noticed as the days and weeks passed, it stopped looking like a shapeless shadow and more like a person -- a big one at least. well over 7 feet tall. if you looked for long enough, you could almost make out what you think is a skull where the face would be on a human.

one night, you're laying in bed, comfortable. there's rain pelting outside on your window and distant thunder, too nice of weather to sleep away. so you just choose to relax and listen to it.

"ghost?" you find yourself calling into the darkness, "are you there?"

its silent but you feel the air grow heavy and you know that it's arrived. it seems to have...consciousness, you realized. it reacts to you and listens to you. there's one thing that's been plaguing you that you want to ask, though you're not sure if it will answer -- if it can answer.

"you're not really a ghost are you?" you ask.

you're greeted by silence for several, long seconds before you hear it. it's deep and masculine, a whisper of an echo following its voice when it speaks as if multiple things were speaking but only one voice was amplified, "no."

it's the answer you were expecting but that didn't mean you liked it. you swallow harshly around the lump of anxiety in your throat.

"are you going to hurt me?" you ask it, dreading the answer to this one. just because it's been toying with you doesn't mean it's not still dangerous.

"no," it responds again. you can hear footsteps, the entity walking closer and closer to your bed.

you let out a relieved breath at that. though, you're not sure if you should actually believe the dark entity that lives in your house. but at this point, you've really got no choice except to take it's word for it.

"what's your name?" you find yourself asking it.

"ghost," it responds quickly.

you laugh at that, "no, you're real name."

"ghost," it insist, "you gave me a name."

a lightbulb goes off over your head.

"is that why you're being so nice to me?" you ask, not sure if 'nice' is the appropriate word to use.

"i wanted a name," it answers, "you gave me one."

"a name in exchange for living in this house," you muse, deciding to roll over in bed, "alright then. goodnight, ghost."

"rest well," it responds before vanishing, freeing the room from that oppressive feeling.

you close your eyes and will yourself to fall asleep, briefly wondering where ghost even came from and what exactly it was.

this is unedited i wrote it in a fury of inspiration i hope u enjoyed it regardless of how WEIRD this was LMFAOOOOOOOOOO

[rafecameronssl4t]

a fic where kook readers hates the idea of Rafe x Sofia and gets irritated seeing them together and at a party Rafe confronts her and tells her that they’re just hooking up and if she’s jealous. Please and thank you 🙏

Standards || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

gif by @giorgiawingham

A/n: yeah I’m not on break really since I’m posting lol

Warnings: angst, r is mean in the beginning mb just doing the request!! Stereotypical kook bitchy r 😛

Word count: 1,518

MASTERLIST

The sun hung lazily in the sky, casting a warm glow over the country club as you sat with Topper on the patio, sipping on a cold drink and letting the soft hum of conversation fill the air. It was a calm afternoon, typical of this place, where everyone dressed to impress and mingled like it was their job.

But the tranquillity was short-lived. Your eyes drifted towards the entrance, and the moment you saw them, your jaw tightened. Rafe Cameron, tall, smug, and all too comfortable, had his arm draped lazily over Sofia’s shoulder, his signature smirk plastered on his face. The sight of them together made your stomach churn, irritation bubbling up inside you

She was laughing, her hand clutching his forearm as she leaned into him like they were the perfect couple. Your stomach twisted, a bitter taste creeping up your throat as you watched them, Sofia all smiles and Rafe looking way too content for your liking. He looked different—softer, like he had let his guard down.

“Look at him,” you muttered under your breath, eyes narrowing as you followed their movements across the room. Rafe’s arm was slung lazily around Sofia’s shoulders, her face lit up with a grin that looked almost rehearsed, like she knew eyes were on her. You shifted in your seat, crossing your arms with a sharp scoff. “Our Kook king has completely gone soft, Topper.”

Topper barely glanced up from his phone, but when he finally did, the disdain in his expression mirrored yours perfectly. His lips twisted into a dark chuckle, shaking his head as his gaze flicked toward Rafe and Sofia. “Yeah, no kidding,” he said, voice dripping with judgement. “Rafe with her? Didn’t think he’d sink that low.”

The two of you shared a bitter laugh, finding some perverse satisfaction in tearing them down. It was easy—too easy, really. Sofia had a reputation, and not a good one. She was known for trying too hard to fit into the kook elite, always clinging to the right crowd, desperate to belong somewhere. But she didn’t. Not here. And certainly not with Rafe. The thought of them together made your skin crawl.

“He’s slipping,” Topper muttered, his voice full of judgement for his friend. “Rafe used to have standards.” “Right?” You rolled your eyes, unable to hide your distaste. The sight of Rafe with Sofia made your chest tighten, the annoyance simmering just beneath the surface. “It’s pathetic. She’s pathetic.” Topper snorted, this time putting his phone down, his full attention on the scene playing out across the room.

“She’s just desperate for attention,” he said, his voice dripping with disdain. “She’ll cling to anyone with money to fit in. It’s kinda sad, actually.” You nodded, your eyes still glued to them, unable to look away from the trainwreck. Sofia didn’t belong here, not with Rafe, not anywhere near him, if you were being honest with yourself. “Exactly,” you agreed, feeling the annoyance simmering just below the surface.

“She’s not even his type. I don’t get what he’s doing with her.” Topper snorted. “He’ll get bored and it’s probably just a phase,” Topper said with a shrug. “Rafe always does get bored, you know that.” You were about to respond, maybe throw in another biting remark about Sofia’s lack of style or how obvious she was being, when you noticed them heading straight toward your table.

Sofia had that too-bright smile plastered on her face, and Rafe—well, Rafe looked like he was enjoying himself a little too much, knowing full well that his presence was getting under your skin.“Great,” you muttered under your breath, sitting up straighter, preparing yourself for the inevitable. Rafe reached your table first, smirking down at you, his arm still casually draped over Sofia’s shoulder like she was an accessory.

“Hey,” he drawled, eyes flicking between you and Topper, clearly amused by the tension in the air. Sofia waved, her smile way too forced for your liking.“Hey!” she chirped, like she wasn’t fully aware of how much you couldn’t stand her. You shot them both a withering look, barely able to mask your irritation. “Rafe. Sofia.” He raised an eyebrow at your tone, but before he could say anything, you rolled your eyes and stood up.

The last thing you wanted was to play nice. “I’m out of here,” you muttered, pushing your chair back and walking away without another word, leaving them standing there awkwardly. Later that evening, the frustration still lingered as you found yourself at Topper’s party. The house was packed with familiar faces, music thumping from the speakers as the evening buzzed with energy.

You needed a break, something to clear your mind, so you stepped outside onto the back patio where the cool breeze offered a moment of peace. You didn’t expect to be alone for long. You heard footsteps approaching, and when you turned, Rafe was there, leaning casually against the railing, his expression unreadable.

You shot him a glance, not entirely in the mood for whatever he had to say. “We’re not together, you know. Sofia and I,” he said, his voice breaking the silence between you. You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms as you stared him down. “Could’ve fooled me,” you said coolly. Rafe shrugged, pushing his hands into his pockets, his gaze not leaving yours.

“We’re just hooking up. That’s it.” You scoffed, turning away slightly. “Oh, well, that makes it so much better,” you said, sarcasm dripping from every word. “I don’t know why you think I care.” Your words came out sharper than you intended, but you couldn’t help it. The tension between you and Rafe had been simmering for weeks, and his smug expression was doing nothing to ease the frustration building inside you.

Rafe’s lips curled into that infuriating smirk, and he took a slow step closer, his body language dripping with confidence. “You make it pretty fucking obvious, princess,” he murmured, his voice low and teasing. The nickname sent a shiver down your spine, and despite your better judgment, you found yourself biting down on your bottom lip. He’d always had a way of getting under your skin, of knowing exactly how to push your buttons, and right now, he was doing it with ease.

You didn’t respond, refusing to give him the satisfaction. But Rafe could see the way your body tensed, the way your eyes flicked away from his for just a second, betraying more than you wanted to admit. “Why, are you jealous?” His voice was still laced with that cocky edge, but there was something more in his eyes—something that made your pulse quicken. It wasn’t just teasing anymore; it was a challenge, daring you to deny it. You scoffed, forcing a laugh that felt hollow, even to you. “Please. You wish.”

He chuckled softly, the sound rolling off his tongue, as if he knew exactly what game you were playing. Shaking his head, Rafe ran a hand through his hair, his gaze never leaving yours. “I have standards,” he said, his voice dropping lower, more serious now. “You know I wouldn’t actually get with a freakin’ pogue.”

“Yeah, well these days, Rafe,” you muttered, your voice laced with frustration, “I don’t even know you.” His smirk faltered for a second, something flickering behind his eyes. For just a moment, it was like you had struck a nerve, like maybe he didn’t know how to respond to that. “You don’t know me?” he echoed, his tone softer, but still challenging.

You took a breath, standing your ground. “Not anymore.” Rafe’s eyes narrowed slightly, as if your words had gotten under his skin more than he wanted to let on. “Sofia’s just fun for now. She’s not permanent.” His tone was dismissive, almost like he was convincing himself as much as you. There was an edge to his words, like he was trying to brush it off, but the way he held your gaze—intense, lingering—told a different story.

You couldn’t help the way his words made your heart beat a little faster, though you tried to ignore it. He was playing some kind of game, you were sure of it. A game where the lines between teasing and something deeper blurred just enough to make you question everything. It was maddening. “Whatever you say, Rafe,” you muttered, not giving him the satisfaction of a real response.

You turned to leave, but you could feel his eyes on your back as you walked away, the tension between you thick enough to cut. But even as you left, you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to this conversation than either of you had said aloud. Something unspoken lingered in the air, hanging heavy between you.

The way he’d looked at you—challenging, almost daring—stayed with you, creeping into the corners of your thoughts long after you’d stepped away. You wondered, against your better judgment, if maybe, just maybe, you weren’t the only one feeling something more. Something deeper. Something neither of you were ready to admit, but that was quietly pulling you both in.

[webism]

CHAPTER ONE: The Businessman.

kento nanami x fem!reader. nsfw.

your first night at Tsukumo's Angels, and you get put on the phone sex line.

masterlist. read on ao3

You sit on a peeling leather couch that sticks to the back of your thighs in the heat. An old metal-blade fan sits mounted on the wall to your left, but it’s a sorry excuse for one—someone blowing on you would quicker dry the sweat from your brow. It’s not as dingy as Toji’s apartment, which you suppose is an upside: things are looking brighter already. Yay.

The beautiful woman sitting across from you in a small black tank and jeans—in this weather—taps her nails against the surface of her desk. Her blonde hair gates her vision a little, but you can still feel the sharpness of her gaze on your skin. She’s sizing you up. You aren’t sure if you like it. 

“So,” she leans back in her seat. “Your name was..?”

You look up at her, at the way her hands are clasped together. She could look down at the faded resumé in front of her and see your name written as clear as day, but she asks you instead. Maybe to hear it from your own lips.

You tell her your name, and she parrots it back to you to test it on her tongue. She decides that she likes the taste. “I’m Yuki Tsukumo. I own Tsukumo’s Angels, the finest budget escort service in the city.”

You knew that, of course, but you nod as a formality regardless. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Yuki smiles at you—wide and toothy and ever so beautiful. She reaches into her drawer and pulls out a cigarette, lighting it and taking a drag. She blows her smoke to the left and you almost forget just how hot it is in her office. “I hear you’d like a job?”

You’re going to hell. Every late-night-TV preacher and grandmother in the congregation would tell you the same thing. It’s not just what you’re doing—it’s what you’re thinking, what you’re willing to become to make it out of this.

When you were younger, stupider, you’d fear hell like nothing else. Eternal heat, endless suffering, a constant lack of breath, a pit with no end. Now, you’re starting to think it might feel a lot like this city at night: oppressive heat rising from the pavement, the air thick and stifling, and an unshakable sense that something, or someone, is watching you.

Toji used to call the nightlife a cancer. And although he rarely managed the truth, this might have been one of the rare times it slipped past his lips. You tug at the hem of your dress—a little too tight, a little too short. It’s what you had to work with, cobbled together from a half-hearted thrift store run and whatever nerve you could muster.Yuki didn’t say anything about a dress code, and maybe you’re stereotyping yourself here, but you’re out of your element and this dress is short enough to strip the attention from your fidgeting hands. 

The fluorescent lights outside Tsukumo’s Angels buzz faintly as you approach, the words glowing in neon pink that is reflected in the puddles on the concrete. The heavy metal door creaks loudly when you push it open and step in. 7 on the dot. You’ll be here tonight, so you don’t have to worry about finding a place to live until tomorrow. Don’t think about it.

Inside, the air is cooler, though not by much. The same peeling leather couch greets you, as does the same faint smell of smoke and something cheap, floral, and over-applied. Yuki isn’t at the desk this time, but a tall man in a plain white button-up leans against it, his arms crossed. He’s an attractive man, a cigarette hangs from his lips—you’re starting to see a trend in staff here. 

“You the lamb?” He asks, though the way he looks you up and down tells you he already has an answer to that question.

“Lamb?” you ask.

He smiles, moustached lip curling upwards in something mocking and dangerously sultry. “Yeah, you’re the lamb—” he extends a hand for you to shake “—Shiu.”

Shiu has a rough grip, you note. Not mean or calloused like you’d expect from a man of physical labours, but just… rough. “It’s nice to meet you,” you hum. He laughs. 

He takes another drag from his cigarette, the ember glowing brighter in the dim light, and looks you over once more before flicking the ash into an already overflowing tray on the desk. He blows a plume of smoke toward the ceiling, eyes narrowing slightly as the smoke curls. “You look familiar. I’ve seen you here before?”

You shake your head. “You haven’t.”

Shiu narrows his eyes even further, takes in the way your dress clings tight, how your frame stands in front of him. Your nerves… the tinge of excitement beneath them. “Have we..?”

“No!” your eyes widen, voice a little louder than you intend it to be. “Sorry. I just got out of a relationship so… no, we haven’t…”

“A breakup, huh? That’s always an interesting reason to land somewhere like this.” His voice lowers. He’s toying with you. “What’d he do? Not give you enough attention? Leave you out in the cold?”

You don’t owe him an explanation: you’re here and that’s all that matters, but you find yourself shrugging regardless. “Something like that.”

Shiu smiles, something teasing but not quite mocking. “Right, well if you’re here as a rebound I’d advise you to walk your ass right back out of that door. You’ll get attention here, for sure, but this isn’t the place for… soft comforts.”

“I’m not here for comfort.”

“Good,” says Shiu. “Keep it that way. You’re here to provide a service, an experience, but not without boundaries. Those lines blur when you start wanting cuddles and reassurance after, and when the lines blur you aren’t doing everything in your power to keep yourself safe. These men—and women—pay for sex for a reason. Remember that.”

You know. You know. There’s nothing warm and fuzzy about being an Angel, or a lamb, as he puts it. Still, you want to make the most of the hole you’re in. You narrow your eyes at Shiu and hope he doesn’t chide you for changing the subject when you ask: “and what about you? Are you—”

“For sale?” A door behind Shiu pushes open and in walks Yuki Tsukumo. She’s ditched the jeans from yesterday for a long black dress: one that hugs her figure and flows like liquid down to her ankles. She looks taller, and a whole lot cleaner than the gritty lobby you stand in. “Give me a good offer and I’ll rent him out to you. Shiu is security, he’ll take care of you if and when you need him to.”

Shiu scoffs at Yuki’s joke and takes a step to the left so that she can slot in next to him. Yuki, your boss, looks you up and down. You catch the way her gaze lingers on your dress, though you can’t tell if it’s judgement or approval behind her lashes. She flits her gaze to Shiu. “Are you trying to scare my lamb away, Kong?”

Shiu shrugs. “I haven’t decided yet.”

Yuki rolls her eyes and lands her gaze on you once again. Seeing you so out of your element, she gives you a soft smile to try and ease your nerves. “You’ll be okay here. I showed you my office yesterday, I’ll be in there if you need me at any time, okay? You’re never more than a few steps from security and if you have issues with anyone, co-worker or client, you can come to me.”

Weirdly, that does soothe you. Though your moment to take a breath quickly passes when Yuki straightens up and turns on her heels with only a nod for you to follow. “Come then.”

The door she came from leads down a long hallway with dim fluorescent lights flickering overhead. The walls are bare, the paint chipped in spots, revealing patches of old wallpaper beneath. Yuki doesn’t wait for you to catch up; her heels click with purpose on the tiled floor, echoing through the narrow space. You’re almost at the end of the hall before she speaks again, her tone matter-of-fact. “I’m not going to throw you in the deep end, but you’re not getting a soft landing either. I’ll introduce you to one of my angels, Utahime, and she’s going to walk you through our phone sex services. Sound good?”

Without waiting for a reply, Yuki steps through another door and leads you into a big lounge area. Against the back wall are a bunch of mirrors and vanity stations, makeup and hygiene products littered over each tabletop. A few girls in even fewer clothing sit and do their hair and makeup, chatting amongst themselves and shooting you soft smiles as you and Yuki walk past. 

Your boss steps over to a cream chaise lounge against another wall where a girl around your age lays splayed across the cushioning. She’s wearing a dress like yours, short and black and very ‘sex-sells’, and is tapping away on her phone with such rapt attention she doesn’t notice the two of you approach until Yuki clears her throat. 

“Utahime,” she drawls and gestures to you. “This is our newest lamb. I’d like you to walk her through our phone services tonight. Doable?”

The girl—Utahime—looks you over. She looks a little bored, gorgeous black hair falling over her shoulders and her nails still tapping absentmindedly against her phone screen. Her perfectly arched brow raises, just slightly, before she finally glances at Yuki.

“Doable,” she says with a lazy shrug. “I have the businessman booked in for a call in half an hour… maybe he’d like a session with the new girl?”

You look at Yuki, who looks at you in the same breath. She seems to think about something before ultimately nodding. “If you can get her up to speed before he calls, let her have a go with him.”

“The businessman?” You ask.

Yuki smiles. “He’s a hard worked man, but he’s so unfamiliar with his sex drive that you’d think he was a priest. He might actually benefit from talking to someone new.”

You nod—sex therapy for a businessman couldn’t be that hard. Utahime stands and adjusts her dress before grabbing your wrist and parting from Yuki to pull you across the lounge and into a room off to the side. Utahime’s grip on your wrist is firm but not unkind, and loosens once youre in what she introduces to you as the studio. 

It’s so much nicer than you expected. The room is decently sized and lit up with warm fairy lights. Almost like a recording studio, there are doors to a few booths across the wall, each one decorated to the nines with pillows and blankets and a station for water and personal items. A few low tables hold candles, fake or otherwise, alongside a small black box of… what you imagine might be toys. A plush little sofa sits in each one too, for comfort. 

“Nice, right?” Utahime hums and gently pushes you into one of the booths. “Everything’s designed to make you more comfortable. Clients pick up on that, even over the phone. It’s all sound-proofed in here too, so if you get into it you can be as loud as you want. Seriously, make it yours. You’ll be in here a lot until you start taking in-person clients.”

Utahime sits down on the floor and tosses a pillow in your direction. You startle a little but look at her with a knowing smile at her efforts to start feeling familiar. “So,” you start, sitting down on the plush sofa and toying with the small headset that hangs from the armrest. “The businessman… tell me about him?”

Utahime leans back against the wall and props her chin in her hand. “The businessmaaaan. He’s sweet. He’s only called in once before, spoke to me but got too nervous to do anything more than talk about his day. He was polite—apologised about ten times for wasting my time, which, by the way, he wasn’t. He’s got this earnestness about him that’s kind of rare. But you can tell he’s not used to this kind of thing. Not even close. It’s… cute.”

You look at her, a soft smile crosses her lips. If it wasn’t just work you’d think she had a soft spot for him. “Do you think he’ll mind talking to me instead of you? Changing things up might make him feel even more nervous.”

Utahime shakes her head. “I think he’ll appreciate someone who’s also new to this. You can learn from each other. He’s booked to call in twenty minutes. We could do some practice calls until then? I’ll show you the ropes.”

She puts her hand up to her ear to simulate a phone and you laugh at the gesture. “Sounds good.”

Meanwhile, in his small apartment bedroom, Kento Nanami—the businessman—paces from door to dresser. Back and forth, back and forth. He tightens his tie, and then loosens it just to feel unmade and tighten it again. 

Why did he book a second call? The first was ridiculous, he talked to a nice young lady about officework woes and quarterly reports and hung up after an hour with a call-girl sized dent in his wallet and no sexual relief to show for it. He’s of half a mind to walk over to his mirror and start practicing lines, but he hasn’t yet lost so much of his decorum.

For the next ten minutes, Nanami sits with his fingers drumming over his thighs, dull thuds against his slacks. He’s lost in his mind, is he even aroused? Capable of being aroused? He can’t remember the last time he jerked off—last month?

He’s two minutes late to call by the time he next checks his phone. “Shit,” he mumbles, fumbling to the contact saved under ‘Personal Services.’ Nanami stares at the screen for a moment, his thumb hovering over the call button. He clears his throat, adjusts his posture, and exhales sharply through his nose before pressing ‘CALL’.

The line rings, once… twice… and then— “Tsukumo’s Angels, what’s on your mind?”

His breath hitches. He shouldn’t freeze like this, but the poor man simply cannot help it. “Good evening,” he sounds clinical, and his mind is working faster than his mouth because he’s talking before he can register the words that leave his lips. “You… aren’t who I talked to last week.”

“I’m not,” the voice says, Nanami picks up on an edge of unsurety that traces your words. “You’ve caught me on my first night… you could get to know me, if you’d like to.”

Nanami nods, and then realises you can’t see him. “I’d, uh, I’d like that.”’

There’s a soft hum of acknowledgement from your side of the call, and Kento stops feeling the need to toy with his tie. “Great,” you say, your voice steadying a little. “So… why don’t we start with something easy? Tell me a bit about yourself.”

Nanami hesitates. “There’s not much to tell. I work in finance. My days are… predictable, for the most part.”

“Predictability isn’t always a bad thing,” you reply gently. “But I get the feeling you aren’t fulfilled.”

"You could say that. It’s a practical job. It pays the bills." He pauses, then adds, almost reluctantly, "though I think I’d like a vacation.”

From your spot on the sofa at Tsukumo’s Angels, you lean back and glance at the door. Utahime had stepped out a few minutes ago, giving you space to settle into your first call. “Are you a beach man or a mountain man?”

“Beach,” his reply is immediate. He clears his throat. “There’s something calming about the ocean. The sound of the waves, the salt in the air… it’s grounding.”

You smile at the vivid image his words paint. “I get that. The ocean feels endless in a way that’s comforting, doesn’t it? Like it can hold all your worries for a while.”

“Yes. Exactly that. I’d read, listen to the water, just exist.”

“What does a man like you read?”

“Anything classic. I like things tried-and-true, change is… difficult for me. Hemingway maybe. Or Murakami, if I’m in the right mood.”

“Tasteful,” you reply. “And if I were there on the beach with you, could I distract you from your book, or are you diligent in your focus?”

In his room, Nanami’s mouth goes dry as his cock twitches in his slacks. You haven’t even said anything lewd, but he’s feeling oddly restless nonetheless. “I like to think I’m a focused man,” he starts, shuffling back on his bed to rest against the headboard. He takes his glasses off and rests them on the bedside table. “But under the right circumstances, I could be persuaded to set the book down.”

“Careful, businessman, I could take that as a challenge.”

“I’d hope so.”

He’s blushing at his own words and, in the same breath, reaching downwards with his free hand to palm as his hardening cock. He takes a sharp breath in and prays to every god he’s ever read about that you didn’t hear him.

“You’re saying I’d have to earn your attention?” Your question is honeyed. 

“I suppose,” so is his reply. 

“Good, I like working for my meals.”

Nanami snorts— “what, you’re going to eat me?”

“Yes,” your voice makes his cock jump. He sighs and pulls his slacks down enough to hook it out. “Have you ever wanted something so bad that you’d consume it whole if you could?”

Nanami thinks for a moment about a promotion, and then shakes his head. His mind jumps instead to the hypothetical beach retreat, with a book in one hand and the back of your head in his other as he pushes your mouth down on his cock so deep you’re gagging and drooling all over the place. Ungentlemanly, but enough of a visual to incite his tip to start drooling precum. He smears it over the head with his thumb, and nearly chokes on his words. “I have.”

“That’s how I feel. There’s an intimacy to taking care of someone, especially when they’re stressed like you. I bet your muscles are so tight they’d be hard under my hands. Being the one to relax you, make you feel good? That’d make me feel good.”

Nanami hums. “Usually I’m the one doing the servicing.”

“I don’t doubt that. You should be the one being taken care of. Poor thing, working so hard every day: carrying all that weight on your shoulders. You deserve a break.”

Poor Kento moans at that—a break. God, the things he’d do for a break. He feels almost pathetic pumping his cock to the thought of reprieve from the monotonous 9-5 he lives, but he hasn’t felt this good in a long time. His breathing grows heavier as your words coil around him. “You’re… ha, you’re good at this. It’s your first day?”

“Don’t distract me,” you hum. “Tell me what you’re thinking about.”

“You,” he exhales. “Your eyes. Looking up at me. Or your hands on my thighs. How you’d touch me like you know me. Like we know each other. Like we’ve done it a hundred times before and still aren’t sick of each other.”

He doesn’t know why he says that, why his fantasy quickly shifts from a beachside blowjob to the domestic life. To lazy morning sex or late nights in the kitchen that turn from snack runs to you hoisted onto the counter with his head between your thighs. He pictures you, whatever you look like, laughing as he kisses your neck and brings home gifts carved out of his paycheck. He pictures a life shared, and feels awful for it.

“Sorry,” his strokes falter. “Sorry I don’t  know why—”

“I like that thought,” you stop him from spiralling. “Maybe we have. Maybe in another life you’d come home to me every night, waiting for you… ready to make you forget about everything but the way you make me feel.”

His chest heaves as his hand works faster, stroking his cock at a near brutal pace to the images you plant into his mind. You’re in his bed, you’re bent over his desk, you’re lazing on the sofa with him, you’re up against the wall in his shower. “Fuck.”

“I’d know you inside and out,” you continue on, and he swears he can hear a slight hitch to your breath—are you touching yourself? He pictures phone sex operators sitting bored at a desk as they read from a script. But you sound…invested. Heated. “I’d know exactly how to take care of you. You’d come home exhausted and I’d make it all better—god, you’d know all of me too.”

Nanami’s hips jerk up into his hand as he feels his release start to build. It’s already dizzying, after such a long dry spell, and his head tips forward in want.“You’re—ha—too good at this. How the hell… how are you—”

“Shh,” you soothe him. “Don’t think. Just feel, just let me take care of you… even from here. You’re touching yourself, yea? Imagine it’s my hand, stroking you after a long day, love. Or maybe I’m riding you, letting you lay back and feel me around you… you wouldn’t have to do a damn thing.”

His free hand fists the sheets as he imagines the warmth of your body pressing against his, the way your nails might scrape lightly over his skin. He pictures your head tilted back, lips parted in ecstasy as you moan his name over and over again. 

“You’re driving me fucking insane,” he rarely curses like this. Still, he’s never indulged in something like this before—never let himself slip into the raw, visceral need he now feels. The restraint he’s so practiced in every aspect of his life is dissolving fast, leaving him chasing the pleasure you’re pouring into him.

“Good,” you hum. “I want you to let go for me, give me everything you have all pent up. I can take it.”

Nanami’s pace turns frantic, hips fucking up into his fist as he strokes himself at a torrid pace. His mind is hazed with fantasies of a simple life, domestic and passionate and before he can stop himself and force a few more minutes of pleasure he’s cumming—hard. A strangled moan, one made for porn, leaves his lips and is met with a sharp intake of breath from your end. Nanami feels self conscious for a moment, drawing his now-sticky hand from his cock as he listens to the phone—were you uncomfortable?

Far from. You hardly realise you have your dress hiked and your hand under the fabric of your panties until you’re timing your orgasm with the businessman on the other end of the call. This is far from protocol, but the last time you’ve been spoken to about making love was when you and Toji first started dating, when he was still sweet on you. Sex since then has been rough and passionate and bruising and great, but never love-making. 

You try and stifle your sounds, not knowing yet if it's appropriate for you to touch yourself alongside your clients. You hadn’t intended on it, that’s for sure. You blink the blur from your vision as you try and regain your composure, sliding your hand out of your panties and holding it up in front of you—your fingers glisten under the soft lights and you scramble for a tissue to clean yourself off. 

The silence on the phone between you isn’t uncomfortable, but it’s charged. “Are you… okay?”

“Yes,” you breathe out a lot quicker than you need to. 

“Good,” he says, and you can almost hear the faint smile in his tone. “I was worried I’d—well, that I’d crossed a line.”

You shake your head, even though he can’t see it, pressing your lips together to stop yourself from blurting out how very far from uncomfortable you’d been. “Not at all. I guess we both… just got caught up in the moment.”

He hums in agreement, his voice still a little strained, and something about the lilt of his voice lays deep inside of you. Maybe this line of work isn’t for you if… after one call with a man you don’t know otherwise, you’re already starting to feel open with him. When he speaks, you can hear the nerves lacing his words. “I’m not unhappy it happened.”

“Me neither. You’re full of surprises, Mr. Businessman.”

“You have a way of coaxing them out of me,” he replies. “If I call again, will I get to speak to you?”

It’s a simple question, yet it still implies something more. There’s no rule against it—not officially—but getting closer than needed with clients has already been explained to you as a messy line. Still, you’ve just fucked your fingers to his voice and the fantasies he spoke of—you aren’t in a habit of keeping straight edges. 

“Maybe,” you reply, leaving the door open just enough. “Ask for the lamb.”

“The lamb?” He laughs, you like the sound. “I’ll remember that.”

“Please do.”

There's a moment of silence, and you can see Utahime’s shadow in the frosted window on the door. A quick glance to the clock tells you that an hour has passed already. As if sensing your coming end, the businessman speaks. “My time is almost up. Take care of yourself.”

You stare at the door. “You too, Mr Businessman.”

“Nanami,” he corrects you gently. “You can call me Nanami.”

The call ends with a soft click, leaving you sitting there and rpelaying his correction in your head. Nanami. 

You’re so lost in thought that you barely register the door creaking open. Utahime steps in, and it’s only when her gaze drops to your lap that the realisation hits—your dress is still slightly rucked up, and your flustered attempt to straighten it comes a moment too late.

“Oh, lamb,” she drawls, crossing her arms and leaning against the doorframe. “Caught you, didn’t I?”

Your cheeks burn as you stammer, “It’s not—”

“Relax. It happens to everyone eventually.”

You gape at her, mortified. “This doesn’t happen to everyone.”

Utahime grins, her black hair falling over her shoulders as she dips her head down in laughter. It’s not teasing—moreso friendly. She’s trying to laugh with you, not at you. Though still embarrassed, you feel a little less like you want to melt into the couch as she continues. “And you know what that means?”

You tilt your head at her. “What does it mean?”

“That you’ll fit right in here, lamb.”

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[coldfanbou]

Kinkcember Day 1: Maids

And so we begin this crazy month with a G!P Jihyo. Needed to say that as a warning.

Length: 2K

G!P Jihyo x Mreader

You look around your apartment and sigh. It was filled with empty boxes from packages you had long since opened and other trash. A sound at the door gets your attention, and you walk over; a flyer is at the front, slid underneath your door. “That’s the last thing I need,” you think to yourself before picking up the flyer and turning it over. “Maid Service” was written in big, bold letters across the top, and pictures of women in the stereotypical maid outfit were pictured under it. You look back at the mess in your apartment before considering calling the service. You think about how much work it would be to clean everything up and sigh before looking at the flyer again. “What’s the worst that can happen?” You say aloud before grabbing your phone and calling the number.

A woman picks up the phone on the other end, happily greeting you. “Hello, and thank you for calling Smile Maid Service. How can we help you?” 

“Uh, Hi, I’d like a maid to come over.”

“Of course, sir. Do you have anything that is particularly messy, like a kitchen or bathroom?” 

“No, nothing like that.”

“Okay, thank you, sir. Give me a moment while I get you a maid.” She tells you that you hear some typing in the background before she comes back to the line. “Okay, I just need a little more information. How long would you like to use our service?”

You glance at the mess and consider how long it might take someone to clean it up. “About three hours,” 

“Okay, and what is your address?” You give the woman your address, and after a minute of typing something, she updates you. “Alright, you’re all set. We’ll have our maid Jihyo go over; she’ll be there in thirty minutes. You will make your payment to her; she can take cash or a card. Thank you for calling Smile Maid Service. Have a wonderful day.” The woman hangs up, and you sit down in your living room. As you wait for Jihyo to arrive, you look around and feel embarrassed to have such a mess when someone is coming over. You break down the boxes, laying them on one side of the living room while you wait for Jihyo to arrive. 

There’s a knock on the door. You look at the clock; it must be Jihyo. “Smile Maid Service, Jihyo here!” You hear being shouted from the other side. You walk to the door and open it. Standing before you was a short woman dressed just like the women on the flyer. It’s frilly around the bottom and tight on the top, giving a nice shape to Jihyo’s chest. She steps inside and looks around without missing a beat. “Thank you for hiring me; I’ll get started right away.” She says with a smile. Seeing the flattened boxes on the ground, she picks them up, heaving them over her shoulder, and takes them to the trash downstairs before coming back to clean the room.

“You can rest; I’ll clean up here.” Jihyo huffs as she takes a deep breath. You sit back on the couch, watching Jihyo work diligently as she cleans your apartment. You can’t help but stare at her; Jihyo was beautiful, and the maid outfit made her look better. You were getting hard watching her work. “Hey, Jihyo.”

“Yes?” Jihyo turns around to you, flashing some money in her face. 

“Could I see you work with your tits out?” You ask bluntly. 

The sudden request takes Jihyo aback, and she takes a moment to recover. She glances at the money before shaking her head. “I’m sorry, sir, but I don’t—" You pull out larger bills before she can finish her sentence. 

“How about this much?” Jihyo bites her lip as she stares at the money before her. It’s no small amount. She hangs her head as she agrees, feeling shameful as she takes the money. Jihyo turns around, reaching behind her back and finding the zipper to her dress. She pulls it down slowly, her lavender bra showing as she stops just above her waist. The young woman unclasps her bra, holding the large cups against her chest before pulling them away from her body. Jihyo's chest heaves as she takes in a deep breath. 

“Happy sir?” She says with a slight smile. You nod, and Jihyo soon returns to cleaning, her tits jiggling as she moves from side to side. Jihyo begins to make a conscious effort to slow her movements in an attempt to stop her breasts from moving. 

While she’s doing that, you stare at her tits, noting her hard brown nipples. Jihyo continued to work, growing uncomfortable at the attention she was receiving. She was getting hard at the attention you were giving her, a small tent forming on the lower half of her outfit. Jihyo tries to continue working, but her dress gets in the way. You notice the small tent and bring it up. “Jihyo, it looks like your dress is getting in the way. Why don’t you take it off, too?” You tell her, flashing even more money her way.

She gives you a slight nod and places her hands on the zipper of her outfit, lowering it slightly before moving her hands around to her waist and pushing the maid outfit off her body. Jihyo's hard cock was barely restrained by her panties. As much as she felt embarrassed by the situation, Jihyo was also getting turned on. It was the first time someone had wielded their power over her like this. “You know what? Take the panties off, too. I want to see you naked.” You tell her, adding more bills to her growing pile. Jihyo doesn’t resist, bending herself over and removing her panties. She stands back up slowly and continues working around the house, naked, her cock still hard and twitching as she imagines what you’ll have her do next. 

When Jihyo leaves the living room to clean another room in the home, you take the time to strip down, and when she returns, she immediately notices. Her eyes remain glued to your cock for what seems like forever; her own cock twitches at the sight, but soon enough, she manages to pull herself away and continue her work.

You stroke your cock as you watch the young woman. Jihyo can’t help but glance at you; her body feels warmer whenever she does, and she finds herself in more revealing positions as she cleans. Jihyo would bend over when she cleaned the lower shelves over your bookcase, giving you a good view of her body, or as of now, she was squatting between your legs, cleaning the coffee table in front of you. She rose slowly, allowing you a close look at her ass. 

You struggle to resist touching her and eventually give in to your desires. You spread Jihyo’s cheeks and dive in, running your tongue around her puckered asshole. Jihyo moans instantly, her cock twitching as she’s hit with a sudden rush of pleasure. Jihyo uses the table to support herself as she fills your home with her moans. She curls her toes and reaches for her cock, stroking it slowly as she feels your tongue push into her ass. “Oh, fuck,” She groans, moving her hand faster. She didn’t care that she just met you; you’re giving her money and pleasure.

Jihyo thought about how she could get used to it. She pushed her hips back, letting you snake her tongue deeper inside of her. Jihyo began to stroke her cock quickly as she felt herself get closer to cumming. You pulled one of your hands back and slapped her ass hard, a loud crack filling the room, followed by Jihyo’s moan. She bit her lip and began whining; her cock leaked precum onto her hand as she got ever closer. “I’m cumming; oh god, I’m cumming, she moaned. Her legs became weak, and she struggled to stand. You stood up and held Jihyo’s body up; your other hand went over her,s and you began to stroke her cock quickly. Jihyo’s whines only got louder as you pushed her over the edge and made her cum. You sit back on your couch, bringing Jihyo onto your lap as you continue to stroke her cock, milking more of her cum out of her.  

Jihyo turns her head slowly, pushing her lips outward for a kiss.  You grant her one, snaking your tongue into her mouth as you move your hands to her tits and squeeze them, enjoying their softness. You break the kiss quickly and grab Jihyo’s dirtied hand, bringing it up to her lips and forcing her to taste her cum.

Jihyo’s muffled moans continue as you play with her body. “Sir, hold on.” She groans, “Sir, do you like my body that much?” When you give her nod, she continues, “I’d be happy to quit my job and be your personal maid if you keep paying me as much as you have.” You consider her offer, running your fingers over her hard nipples as you think about it. “Master, please,” she whispers, rubbing her ass against your cock. 

It’s enough to make you agree, “Alright, you have a deal. Now why don’t you put those tits to good use.”

Jihyo smirks and climbs off your lap. She kneels between your legs and cups her tits, bringing them to your cock and surrounding it. Jihyo spits on her soft mounds and begins to rub your cock, spreading her saliva around her tits and your cock. “Is this good, Master?” 

“Yeah, real good,” You groan. You shut your eyes and enjoy the feeling of her tits moving up and down your shaft. You don’t react to Jihyo wrapping her lips around the tip when it pokes through her tits; you just enjoy the experience. Jihyo pumps your cock between her tits quickly. When you open your eyes again, you see her using her nipples against the tip of your cock. “I think that’s enough, Jihyo. I want you.” Jihyo rises and offers herself to you, climbing onto the couch and bending over the armrest. 

She shakes her ass for you, “Fuck me, Master,” she says in a sweet voice. You come up behind her and press the head of your cock against her puckered asshole and begin pushing. Jihyo groans as she feels your cock start to fill her guts. Inch by inch, you move inside her, stretching her tight asshole around your cock. You play with Jihyo’s tits, enjoying the large mounds while Jihyo strokes her cock. Her moans fill the room; Jihyo’s eyes roll into the back of her head as the pleasure overcomes her. Her entire body tingles as you begin to thrust. 

Jihyo’s walls cling to your cock, squeezing you roughly. Every thrust takes a lot of energy out of you but gives you more pleasure in return. You spank Jihyo roughly, every smack turning her ass a deeper shade of red. As you make her walls slick with her saliva, your thrusts become faster, and you drive your cock deep into Jihyo’s ass, making her cry out in pleasure as her incoming climax torments her.

Precum covers Jihyo’s hand as she strokes her cock; her whines become loud as she struggles with the immense pleasure. You pull on Jihyo’s nipples, mixing in some more pain. “I’m cumming, Master!” she cries, forcing her eyes shut as she feels the tension in her body explodes. Jihyo spurts cum into her hand again as she cums. You feel her wall tighten around your cock, making you grunt as you feel your orgasm coming. 

You continue thrusting and move your hand down to Jihyo’s cock, gripping it tightly before stroking it quickly. Jihyo grimaces as you overstimulate her. Your quick strokes bring Jihyo to another climax as you slam yourself deep inside her ass and fill her with your cum. You turn Jihyo’s head and kiss her, happy that you spent the money on her. “You’re going to live here now, Jihyo; I’m going to need you at all times.”

Jihyo smiles and nods at you, “Okay, Master.”

[theostrophywife]

— wicked games.

NAVIGATION // inbox. tags. writing. library.

pairing: regulus black x reader x theodore nott.

song inspiration: wicked games by the weeknd.

author's note: happy thirsty thursday babes. please enjoy this delicious little fic I cooked up whilst deep in a state of delusion.

You hated him. 

Absolutely loathed him. 

There were no words in the English language that could properly describe the pure wrath that Theodore Nott awakened within you. As a Gryffindor, you were well aware of the stereotypical fiery temper attributed to your house that you were currently living proof of, but you just couldn’t help it. The animosity between you and Nott seemed to bring out the worst in you.

When you first started dating Regulus, you attempted to make peace with the Slytherin, but Nott seemed hell bent on waging war against you. More often than not, the two of you had to be pulled apart from tearing each other to pieces. Regulus knew better than to fight your battles for you, but he did find it amusing to watch you hand Nott his annoyingly arrogant arse on a silver platter.

“Nott’s just so…ugh,” you ranted as Regulus lifted you up onto the marble counter. “And he makes me feel like blegh.” 

Your boyfriend settled between your legs, carefully dabbing at the wine stain on your brand new white shirt. The tasteful little addition was courtesy of the aforementioned menace, who accidentally knocked his drink over across the table at the exact spot that you were occupying after you mercilessly beat him at tonight’s poker game. 

 “Theo annoys the fuck out of you and you want to kill him?” 

“Yes, exactly!” 

Regulus hummed as he unbuttoned your blouse, his slender fingers making swift work of the article of clothing. His cold hands felt soothing against your feverish skin, sending shivers down your spine as he skimmed the underwire of your bra. The wine had seeped right through, staining the pink lace with crimson. 

“Sounds to me like you’re frustrated, mon amour.” 

You were, but for an entirely different reason now. The anger coursing through you gave way to desire, its heat simmering to a boil just beneath your skin. Regulus stared intently while you traced the shape of his wine stained lips. Holding his breath, your boyfriend groaned as you pressed a soft kiss against his mouth, fingers sliding up to those pretty curls that felt like silk beneath your touch. 

The heady taste of red wine and cinnamon mixed and mingled as you swirled your tongue against his, gasping into your boyfriend’s mouth as he gripped your thighs and pulled you towards him until your legs instinctively wrapped around his midsection. You were drunk off of Regulus, his taste and touch and scent as intoxicating as the wine dancing on your tongues.

“I’d be more than happy to help, love,” Regulus murmured as his lips skated over your throat. “Let me take your mind off of things, yeah?” 

“Yes please,” you breathed as Regulus spread your legs wide open. 

The cold kiss of his rings caressed the inside of your thighs. You watched through a heavy lidded gaze as your boyfriend knelt in front of you, his handsome face marked with mischief. As he peppered kisses at the junction of your thighs, something dark and possessive flashed through his pretty green eyes, piercing you in place. 

It felt obscene to witness him like this. The sight of Regulus Black on his knees was heaven. Dark curls falling over lust blown eyes, looking up at you through thick lashes as he gripped your thighs. Regulus watched, cocking his head between your legs before he kissed the top of your knees. 

Butterflies erupted in your stomach as he lifted up your skirt, bunching the fabric around your waist before slowly tugging your panties down to your ankles. Patience had never been your strong suit, but you didn’t dare rush your boyfriend. Instead, you savored the kisses that he pressed against your skin, his soft lips like satin on your calves, knees, and thighs. You held your breath in anticipation, your body buzzing with desire as your boyfriend licked and sucked and marked every surface available to him.

Regulus chuckled as you bucked against his mouth, eager for friction. His eyes were blown out with lust as he glanced up at you. “Spread your legs for me, sweetheart.” 

You jolted as he patted your thigh, but obeyed nonetheless. With a pleased smirk, Regulus hooked your legs behind his shoulders and came face to face with your soaked cunt. 

“So wet for me,” Regulus hummed as he ran a finger through your folds. “That’s my good girl.” 

The words unlocked something inside of you. It didn’t matter how many times your boyfriend called you that, it never failed to turn you on. “Reggie, baby,  please…”

“You know I can’t resist when you beg, mon amour.” 

Without another word, Regulus obliged your plea. The first lick had you keening, your soft and breathless moans echoing through the bathroom. Your boyfriend smirked before yanking you over the edge of the sink and burying his head between your thighs. Your cunt ached for him, clit throbbing as he easily worked you with his mouth and lips and tongue. He licked and sucked like a man starved, eating you out until your back was arched against the mirror, fingers scrambling for anything to hold onto. 

It always amazed you that Regulus, a man who took great pride in restraint and discipline, completely lost any semblance of control when it came to you. There was something hedonistic about the way he feasted on you, his dark curls plastered to his sweaty skin, his slender fingers gripping the meat of your thighs, his mouth glistening with the evidence of your arousal. 

Regulus unleashed was fucking divine. Your boyfriend knew your body like the back of his hand and he put that knowledge to use, curving his fingers inside of you and chasing the action with his tongue. 

“God, Reggie,” you panted as he flicked his tongue over your swollen clit. “Baby, I’m going to —“ 

“Hey lovebirds, stop defiling the loo,” interrupted an irritatingly familiar voice. “I need to piss!” 

You cursed under your breath as your mood instantly soured. The presence of Nott on the other side of the door killed any chance of you ever coming. The twat truly had a special talent for spoiling what would’ve otherwise been a fantastic orgasm. You groaned, frustration and anger bubbling up inside of you all over again. This was fucking personal now. You were going to take his bloody head off for it. 

“You know that’s exactly what he wants, right?” Regulus mused as he helped you off the counter. 

“To cockblock me? Yes, I’m perfectly aware.” You said with a scoff. “He’s only doing it because he can’t accept that he lost to me.” 

“I don’t think he’d be this petty over a poker game, love.” 

“I’m not talking about the game,” you responded, hopping off the counter and smoothing down your skirt. “I’m talking about you, baby.” 

Regulus raised a brow. Clearly, he wasn’t convinced, but you were. You knew the real reason behind Nott’s antagonism, which began when you started dating your boyfriend. 

“Theo still has a thing for you,” you explained. “Honestly, I can’t blame him. I’d pine after you, too.” 

Your boyfriend chuckled. “You’re being silly, darling. Theo and I had a fling in fifth year, but it never went anywhere past that. He’s not the relationship type.”

You knew all about the short-lived fling. After all, there were no secrets between you and Regulus. 

“Don’t remind me. You could’ve done so much better than Nott. At least aim for a Riddle, babe.” The pointed look you sent his way earned you an amused smirk. “Anyways, that’s not the point. I’m not saying that Theo wants to date you. I’m saying that he wants to fuck you and I’m standing in the way of that. That’s why he hates me. I took his toy away.”

“I’m a toy now?” purred Regulus as he pinned you against the sink. “You certainly do enjoy playing with me, don’t you, darling?” 

You groaned as he squeezed your arse. “This is exactly what I mean. If I lost you, I’d do everything in my power to get you back too, which is why Nott has been a bloody pain in my arse since we started dating. He’s infuriating. I don’t know how you ever put up with him.”

“Well, there are ways to shut him up.” 

You sighed. “My methods would send me straight to Azkaban.” 

Regulus considered your words for a moment. “You just have to think a little more creatively, darling. The thing about Theo is that he’s a tease. He gets off on it. The more you react, the more he’ll keep pushing your buttons. Maybe you need to start pushing back.”

Curiosity sparked within you. “What are you saying, Reggie?” 

The smirk on his face all but confirmed your suspicions. “I think you know exactly what I’m saying, love.” 

The common room was filled with drunk ramblings and boisterous laughter by the time you and Reggie returned to join your friends. The two of you settled in just as Enzo started taking bets for the winner of the next game. As the drinking picked back up again, you decided to rise to your boyfriend’s challenge. 

“Surprised the two of you even came back,” Theo whispered salaciously. “You seemed a little busy back there.” 

“We were,” you replied with a cheerful smile. “But I’m in the mood for a different game now.” 

Nott blinked as you leaned closer, twirling the end of his tie between your fingers. Confusion was etched all over his face, but you didn’t miss the shaky breath he released when you tugged him down to eye level. 

“You should know that I intend to win.” 

The moment was broken before anyone noticed, but it may as well have been written all over his face with the way Nott flushed crimson. Curious blue eyes landed on you before Theo cleared his throat and directed his attention to Enzo. 

“Setting the trap, I see,” Regulus murmured in your ear as you settled into his lap. “Just be gentle with him, yeah?” 

A smirk curved against your lips as Nott shot another confused glance your way. “No promises, baby,” you replied with a giggle. “You know I like it rough.” 

Your boyfriend’s laughter rumbled in his chest as he rested his chin on your shoulder. “Let the games begin.” 

You started off small. Just a few lingering touches and coy glances that could’ve otherwise have been brushed off by the wine. For the most part, the only person who seemed to take note of the slight shift in your demeanor was Nott. 

“You’re in a better mood,” Theo remarked suspiciously. “Regulus finally managed to knock the stick up your arse, I take it?” 

On any other occasion, you would have threatened to shove your wand up his arse in retaliation, but instead you threw your head back and laughed. To his utter astonishment, you flashed Nott a charming smile and placed your hand on his chest. 

“Oh that’s too funny, Theo.” You batted your lashes at the stunned Slytherin, smirking slightly as his gaze darted between your face and hand, which was still firmly pressed against him. “You’re a riot tonight, aren’t you?” 

“Seriously, what’s happened to you?” Theo muttered. “That comment would’ve earned me a curse or a hex. A slap, at the very least.” 

“Is that what you want?” You asked in a low, sultry voice. Theo tensed as you twirled his tie between your fingers. “Do you want me to be mean to you, Theo?” 

“Yes — I mean no —” You watched in amusement as Theo stuttered over his words, his cheeks flushing progressively deeper to reflect his flustered state. “I don’t know what you’re playing at, but I’ll warn you now. You won’t distract me from winning the game.” 

“Good luck, Nott,” you said with an innocent smile. “You’re going to need it.” 

Despite his warning, your ploy was working better than you could've imagined. Even when Enzo began explaining the rules of the game, you could feel Theo watching you. Regulus smirked as you settled on his lap, proud of the progress that you were making. Thanks to his suggestion, the night was finally starting to get interesting. 

As the game went along, you were unsurprisingly in yet another deadlock with Theo. The two of you were tied for first place at this point while the others lagged behind. You watched as Theo rolled the dice, smirking when he rolled to his advantage. He counted out each number and advanced his character on the board, putting him precisely one step ahead of you. Petty fuck that he was, Nott knocked your piece over as he set his own down. The pink bunny that you had chosen tumbled to the floor and underneath the table. 

“Oops.” Theo smirked as he glanced over at you, his demeanor conveying that the move was both spiteful and intentional. 

“That’s okay,” you responded cheerfully before crawling on your hands and knees to retrieve your character. 

The piece had landed on the far end of the sofa, prompting you to crawl towards Theo. He tensed as you reached across, your body pressed against his while you rummaged beside him. Positioned sideways over his lap, the strategic move gave Theo an ample view down your shirt as your perky breasts spilled out of your red lacy bra. Your thigh brushed against his arm as you wiggled around and nearly put your arse in his face. 

“For Salazar’s fucking sake,” Theo muttered under his breath as he snatched the pink bunny from underneath the table and handed it to you. 

Nott couldn’t meet your gaze as you happily retrieved the piece from the palm of his hand. He was nearly frozen when your fingers made contact, his entire body coiled with tension while you smirked. 

“Thanks, Theo.” 

He nodded begrudgingly as you crawled back into your boyfriend’s lap. Regulus patted your arse in congratulations as Theo grew redder by the second. 

“Mate?” Mattheo asked. “Did you hear what Malfoy said?” 

Theo snapped out of his reverie. “What?” 

“It’s your turn, you dolt,” Draco responded with an eye roll. 

Winning after that was like taking candy from a baby. It was entirely too easy to pull an otherwise obvious move over Nott given the fact that he appeared seconds away from crawling out of his own skin. The prat kept having to readjust himself the more you messed with him. The sight was satisfying to say the least. 

After your unchallenged victory, a joint was passed around amongst your friends. Combined with the ego boost that came with toying with your supposed enemy, the weed left you feeling loose and relaxed.

When it was your turn to take a hit again, you inhaled deeply and kept the smoke in your chest before tapping on Reggie’s bottom lip. Your boyfriend happily obliged, those kaleidoscope eyes trained on you while you tipped his chin and blew the smoke into his mouth. With a low growl, Regulus finished you off with a filthy kiss that had the rest of your friends hooting and hollering. 

Dazed, you smiled softly and wiped the gloss from your boyfriend’s mouth. You were vaguely aware of Theo’s gaze burning holes into you, but the desire to rile him up was superseded by your desire for Regulus. The more the two of you smoked, the touchier you became. 

Regulus lounged lazily on the couch, long legs splayed out in a sexy manspread. His tie hung loosely around his neck, barely covering the love bites you’d left on his throat last night. You traced the marks with your fingers possessively, following the trail down his collarbone. Your boyfriend pressed soft kisses against your neck while you unbuttoned his shirt, red nails stark against his pale skin as you ventured lower. 

By that point, your friends had left to raid the kitchen pantry. Only you, Regulus, and Theo remained. 

The waves of the Black Lake lapped gently against the stained glass windows, its murky waters bathing the common room with green ripples. The air was thick with smoke, making it hard to see through the haze. Across the couch, Theo murmured something, but it barely registered as you straddled your boyfriend. 

Regulus abandoned the conversation with Theo as you positioned yourself over his erection, groaning while he pulled you in for a heated kiss. Present company forgotten, you parted your lips for Regulus and gasped when he slid his tongue inside and licked the roof of your mouth. Smoking was quickly replaced with making out. 

You couldn’t get enough of Regulus. He felt like silk and tasted like sin. 

You could tell by the way his cock twitched in his pants that he was thoroughly enjoying this. Even more so when Theo squeaked in surprise. Regulus grinned against your lips before lifting your skirt up slightly and squeezing your arse, giving your audience a sneak peek of your red lacy panties.

“God, you’re so hot, baby,” you murmured as you kissed his neck. With a smirk, you glanced over your shoulder and found Theo staring at the two of you with a dazed expression. “Isn’t my boyfriend sexy, Theo?” 

Theo blinked. “Uh, yeah. Yeah, Reg is a good looking guy.” 

You tapped a finger against your chin. “You’d know all about that. You had a crush on him back in fifth year, didn’t you?” The panic in Nott’s eyes made you grin. “I guess we have more in common than you think.” 

He looked like a deer in headlights. You fucking loved it. “Hm? Um, briefly. That was ages ago though.” 

“Oh, but who could forget?” You hummed as you sucked at the hollow of Reggie’s throat. “Do you remember his sweet spot? Right here, it’s his weakness. The first time I made him whimper, I nearly soaked myself. Was it the same for you?” 

“I — you — you know?” 

“Of course. Reg and I tell each other everything,” Theo gulped as you held his gaze. “We’re good at sharing.” 

Nott readjusted himself on the couch, his eyes not quite meeting yours. 

“For instance, Reg told me about your little game. He said you get off on riling people up. Is that why you’re always being a pain in my arse, Theo?” 

“No…” Nott said rather unconvincingly. “You’re…you two are together.” 

Regulus shook his head. “That’s not what she asked, Theo.” 

Theo gulped. “Fine. Maybe I do enjoy driving you mad.” 

You chuckled. “You hear that, babe? He finally admits it.” 

Your boyfriend smirked as you slinked off of his lap. He gave your arse an appreciative pat before you strutted towards Theo. Those piercing blue eyes locked onto you, tracing every step with unveiled scrutiny. He held his breath as you draped yourself over his lap. 

Regulus leaned back from where he sat, fully enjoying the show. While he thoroughly enjoyed putting one on for Theo, you knew that watching you drive his friend to the brink would turn him on even more. Your boyfriend loved watching almost as much as he loved being watched.

“Tell me, Theo,” you drawled as you traced a line down his chest. “Does making me angry make you hard?” 

Theo sucked in a breath as you palmed his cock through his pants. He was hard as a rock, which all but confirmed your suspicion. 

“It does, doesn’t it?” You said with a smirk. “You’re such a little brat. I bet you touch yourself after we argue.” 

As if on cue, his cock twitched against your palm. Theo blinked rapidly, his eyes heavy lidded as he looked up at you. “Fuck…what — what’s happening?” 

“You played your games,” Regulus answered. “Now Y/N is playing hers. I should warn you, she isn’t gentle or forgiving.” 

Theo groaned as you licked a stripe against his neck before sucking down harshly. “You’re not the only one who knows how to tease." You slid your hand down his boxers and stroked his cock, rubbing the precum over his tip. “I’m going to play with you until you beg me to stop. Even then, your pretty tears won’t stop me, Theo.” 

Theo panted as you stroked him slowly. “Oh fuck, please, bella.” 

“You’re so hard, Theo. I bet it hurts, huh?” His cock throbbed in your hand as he nodded. “Do you need help, pretty boy?” 

“Yes,” Theo moaned. “God, yes. Touch me, please.” 

“So you do know how to be polite,” you teased. “Good to know.” 

His eyes nearly rolled to the back of his head as you began pumping him in your hand. You could taste the desperation emanating from him as his hands twitched at his side. Theo’s fingers brushed your thighs, but the action was full of uncertainty. 

“Do you want to touch me, Theo?” 

Theo nodded eagerly. You smirked before taking one of his hands and sliding it up your thigh. He held his breath as you moved it further up and guided him to squeeze your arse. Theo groaned as you continued jerking him off, his breaths growing ragged while you carried on with your exploration. He was mesmerized as his rough, calloused hands made contact with soft skin, stopping briefly at your hip before sliding over your stomach until he reached right below your lacy red bra. 

Licking his lips, Theo looked to you for direction. You moved his large hand up to cup your breast, closing your fist around his so he could squeeze your tit. Behind you, Regulus finally left his spot on the couch and pulled your blouse all the way off. He placed kisses over your shoulder and peeked at Theo, who watched the whole thing with his mouth gaped open. 

When Regulus unhooked your bra and revealed your bare tits to Theo, he growled. 

“Touch them,” Regulus commanded.

Theo didn’t need to be told twice. Both hands cupped your breasts, massaging and kneading the soft tissue with a hungry look in his eyes. He looked at your boyfriend, awaiting instructions. 

Regulus seemed to understand exactly what he wanted. “Kiss them.” 

Theo released a shaky breath. His watercolor eyes burned holes into your skin as he wrapped his lips around your nipple. You moaned at the sensation, causing you to grip his cock tighter. Theo took that as a positive sign and continued to lick and suck at your tits, alternating between the two and tweaking and flicking the one his mouth wasn’t on with his fingers. 

Without warning, Regulus tugged your hair back and tilted your chin so he could claim you with a searing kiss. At the sight, Theo bucked against your hand desperately. Watching you make out with Regulus earlier had already caused him problems, but seeing it up close almost had him cumming in your hand. 

When you felt Theo getting close, you released his cock and leveled a disapproving expression at him as he whined. 

“I didn’t say you could cum,” you said meanly. “ I told you, you’ll regret teasing me.” 

Theo sounded pained. “Please, please, I’m sorry. I’ll be good. I’ll do anything you want.” 

You and your boyfriend wore twin smiles. Regulus chuckled darkly. “You can watch me fuck her until she cries and then maybe we’ll think about letting you cum.” 

You brushed Theo’s hair back, his waves soft and luscious between your fingers. “Can you do that for us, pretty boy?” 

“Yes,” Theo answered immediately. “Yes, I’ll be good. I promise.”

“We’ll see about that,” Regulus said.

He smacked your arse and smiled. “Ready, my love?”

You nodded before positioning yourself on your hands and knees on the couch. Theo held his breath as you braced yourself against his chest and arched your back as you looked back at your boyfriend. 

“Ready, baby.” 

The sound of metal clinking against stone echoed in the common room as Regulus shed his belt. He stroked himself before rubbing his cock through your wet folds, making obscene sounds as he teased you with his tip. Your pussy clenched and squelched in anticipation, eager to have his cock inside of you. 

Regulus leaned over to kiss the base of your spine before gripping your hips and easing himself into your pussy. His cock stretched your walls, the delicious drag summoning butterflies in your stomach. You wanted to keep him there forever, nestled in the comfort of your warmth. 

Once Regulus was fully sheathed, you gasped for breath and braced yourself. Theo panted as you clawed at his chest, drinking in the sight as Regulus began to move. His pace was slow and steady, testing your patience as he toyed with you, but luckily, being with your boyfriend taught you the importance of restraint. As Theo would soon learn. 

Speaking of which, the Slytherin was at the edge of his seat as he watched Regulus fuck you. His gaze darted between you and your boyfriend, surveying the seamless way your bodies fit together. You rocked your hips back slowly and followed the torturous pace Regulus set. 

What you really wanted to do was slam all the way back so you could feel him in your guts, but you knew that your boyfriend would reward your discipline like he always did. After a few more shallow thrusts that had you keening for more, Regulus finally took pity on you. 

Gripping your hips, Regulus pulled his cock out of you before slamming all the way back inside. You cried out as Regulus pumped in and out of you, burying himself over and over again into your throbbing cunt. The snap of his hips was brutal yet so satisfying every time he hit your sweet spot. 

"Tu prend ma queue tellement bien, mon amour.”

Regulus praised you for taking his cock, his sweet words contrasted by the animalistic way he fucked into you.

“You feel so good, baby. I love the way you stretch my pussy.”

Theo cursed under his breath, a mixture of English and Italian that sounded entirely unintelligible to you given the fact that Regulus was currently fucking you dumb. You bunched up the material of Theo’s shirt, your face twisting in pleasure while the sound of skin slapping against skin echoed in the common room. 

“You didn’t even set a concealment charm,” Theo marveled. “Anyone could walk in and see us.”

Your cunt fluttered at his words, making Regulus chuckle. “That’s what makes this so fun,” drawled your boyfriend. 

Nott’s eyes widened in return. “Reggie likes the thrill of getting caught. There isn’t anywhere in this castle that we haven’t fucked before.” 

“You two are absolutely mental,” Theo grunted. “Though I am learning that madness really fucking turns me on.” 

“Of course it does,” you sighed, caressing his cheek. “You’re just a horny little slut, aren’t you?” 

“Oh, fuck…” 

Judging from the way Theo cursed, your suspicion that he’d be into degradation was entirely spot on. That was the thing about brats. They just wanted someone to put them in their place. You would gladly knock Theodore Nott down a few pegs and maybe peg him too if the opportunity arose. 

Smirking, you sucked on Theo’s earlobe and elicited a rather delicious whimper out of him. He tilted his head as you trailed kisses along his neck and jaw, sucking harshly at his skin so he’d be reminded of how easily you could turn him into a desperate mess for days to come. Theo chased after your lips, but you dodged every attempt and relished in his frustration. 

“You need a lesson in restraint, pretty boy.” Theo pouted, making you laugh. You wrapped your fingers around his throat and smirked when his pupils dilated. “Maybe I should tie you up, hm? Walk you on a leash until you learn to behave?”

Theo shuddered at the thought. Interesting. You tucked that tidbit away for later. 

“Pay attention,” Regulus said with the snap of his fingers. “We’re about to get to the good part.” 

Regulus tugged at your hair and picked up the pace. You arched your back, tits bouncing in Theo’s face as Regulus fucked you doggystyle. He drove deeper and deeper with each thrust and leaned over to play with your clit. His fingers worked you up to that sweet release, stimulating the bundle of nerves until you felt that familiar heat spreading through your body. 

You came nose to nose with Theo, your lips nearly touching as your ragged pants landed on his cheek. “Reggie, oh my god, fuck m’so close…” 

Your boyfriend responded with hard, sharp thrusts and turned his attention to Theo. “Kiss her while she cums.” 

Theo nodded dumbly before smashing his lips against yours. The kiss was filthy and sloppy, making it evident that Theo was dying for contact. You panted against his mouth, getting lost in the taste of Theo. He swallowed your screams of pleasure, dominating your tongue with his while you came. When the orgasm settled, Regulus pulled out of you and kissed your cheek lovingly. 

“Good girl,” he murmured as he patted your arse. 

His cock was coated with your cum and Theo licked his lips at the sight. Regulus smirked. “Do you want to taste her on me?” 

“Fuck yes,” Theo mumbled excitedly. 

You leaned against the cushions, thankful for the much needed break as you watched Theo go down on your boyfriend. Just as you suspected, Theo was all too eager to please. He knelt in front of Regulus, peering up at him as he licked at his tip. The groan that rumbled through his chest made you chuckle. 

Regulus tipped his head back as Theo took him to the back of his throat. He bobbed his head up and down, relishing in the taste of you left on your boyfriend’s cock. He sucked him clean, your juices dripping off of his chin while he gagged and groaned. You could only describe the act as greedy. 

“Have you been thinking about this, Theo?” You asked as he licked your boyfriend’s shaft. “You’ve been dying to fuck Regulus again, haven’t you?”

“Yes,” Theo breathed. “But I want to fuck you too.” 

“So greedy,” you teased. Theo sighed as you stroked his cheek. “What makes you think I’d let you fuck me after all the shit you’ve pulled, hm?”

“Because it would give you power over me,” Theo answered. “I’d be completely at your mercy.”

You smiled. “That’s right, pretty boy. Do you know what turns me on more than anything?” 

“No,” Theo responded, hanging onto your every word. “Tell me, please.”

“Control.” 

Regulus smirked as you came up behind him and kissed his cheek. “Reggie, baby, don’t you think Theo deserves some kind of punishment for his smartass mouth?” 

“What did you have in mind, mon amour?” 

“I think you should fuck his mouth until his pretty little throat is ruined.” Theo shuddered at your words while Regulus smiled. “Lay on your back, Theo. Show us what you can do.”

You watched with amusement as Theo laid down on the sofa, his head hanging off the arm. Regulus tapped the tip of his cock against Theo’s lips. He parted them willingly, breathing through his nose as your boyfriend stuffed his length down his throat. Theo gagged as Regulus thrusted deeper, pretty eyes brimming with unshed tears while he struggled to breathe. 

You couldn’t help but think that he looked pretty like this. Spreading your legs wide, you rubbed your clit and watched your boyfriend destroy your nemesis. Theo glanced over at you, his mouth watering even more at the sight of you pleasuring yourself to him being ruined. 

“Use your hands, Theo,” you guided. “Reg likes that.” 

Theo released your boyfriend’s cock with an obscene pop. “I remember,” he retorted sassily. “I know what Regulus likes, thank you very much. Did you know that he likes it when you slide a finger in?” 

You merely smiled. “Of course I do.” Theo yelped in surprise when you wrapped your fingers around his cock and squeezed. “Keep fucking talking back, Theo. I’ll sit on your face until you suffocate, you little brat.” 

His voice was breathy as you held him in a death grip. “Don’t threaten me with a good time.” 

“That’s cute, Theo,” you said with a smile. “Remember that attitude because I’m about to fucking tear you apart.” 

Theo held his breath as you tugged him towards the couch. Those watercolor eyes were black with lust as you straddled his lap. He gasped when you grinded against his cock, spreading your wetness all over his shaft. You tugged at his hair and kissed him roughly, sliding your tongue against his while Theo gripped your hips. 

When you bit his bottom lip, Theo whimpered in response. You chuckled darkly. “So fucking pathetic. You talk up a big game, but all it takes is a little grinding and you’re nearly cumming your pants.” 

“It’s not my fault,” Theo murmured. “You’re so fucking hot when you’re mean.”

“Yeah? You like being degraded, Theo?” You taunted as you raked your nails over his chest. ”I’m going to have so much fun toying with you. After all, that’s all you’re good for, isn’t it?” 

Theo felt lightheaded as he nodded. “Yes, yes, I need…” 

You put your fingers up to his lips and shushed him. “Aw, sweetheart, I don’t give a fuck what you need. This is about what I need.” 

“What do you need, bella? I’ll give it to you. I swear to god, I’ll give you everything I have.”

“I need you to fucking behave and do what you’re told for once.” Theo whimpered as you grabbed his chin. “You’ll be a good little pet for me, won’t you?” 

“Y — yes. I’ll be so good.” 

From behind, you could feel Regulus watching the two of you. You knew he was touching himself by the soft, shallow breaths that echoed in the room. You bit and licked and sucked a trail of love bites down Theo’s neck, making sure that your marks littered his skin. His hands roamed your body, eagerly touching and feeling as much as you allowed. 

“Take your boxers off.” 

Theo obeyed diligently and discarded his underwear on the floor. He looked up expectantly, waiting for your next command. 

“Touch yourself, Theo.” 

He pumped himself in one hand, establishing a frantic pace. You frowned and grabbed hold of his wrist. “Slowly, like this. I need you to show me that you can be patient.” 

Theo blinked, his expression dazed while he followed the rhythm that you set. “That’s it. Stroke yourself just like that.” 

He seemed entranced as you observed him with a small smile. Theo whimpered your name when you replaced his hand, pumping him slowly before rubbing the tip of his cock against your folds. 

“Oh god,” Theo moaned. “Fuck me…”

You grinded on his tip, barely letting him slip in and out of your pussy. “Do you think you deserve to be fucked?” You tilted his chin and forced him to look at you. “Cause I don’t think you do. You haven’t earned it.” 

“I want to earn it,” Theo said. “What do I need to do, bella?” 

“I’m so glad you asked,” you said as you ran your fingers through his hair. “I want you to sit still while I grind on you and get myself off. No whining, no complaining. Just look pretty and let me use your cock. Can you do that for me, Theo?” 

He bit his lip, eyes shiny with desire. “Yes.” 

“Good boy.” 

You didn’t miss the way his pupils dilated at the praise. Humming, you rocked your hips and let the tip of his cock brush against your clit. Theo gazed up at you as you braced your hands on his shoulder, pushing him down as you grinded against him. The friction the action created was delicious. Heat curled deep in your core the more you rubbed your clit against his shaft. 

Theo gripped your hips, his lips parting so he could lick and suck at your tits as you continued to use him. His eyes rolled back as you switched to bouncing on his tip, letting him glide through your folds just enough to feel pleasure. With a swift flick of your fingers, you felt yourself getting closer and closer. 

“That’s right, darling,” Regulus murmured, his breaths ragged. “Cum all over his cock.” 

Your boyfriend’s words sent you into a tailspin. Before you knew it, you were cumming again. The orgasm rocked you like a wave, crashing over your body with an intensity that set your nerves alight. Underneath you, Theo whined and whimpered. He was so sensitive that it hurt. 

“Your pussy feels so good, squeezing me so tight,” Theo breathed. “But I need more, please. I want to bury my cock inside of you. I want to cum until I pass out.”

“I don’t give a fuck,” you snapped. “Brats don’t deserve to cum.” 

“Please, please,” Theo begged, his voice hoarse. His eyes were shiny with tears. “Please, Y/N. I’ve learned my lesson. I won’t be a brat anymore. I’ll be good. I’ll be so fucking good for you. I promise.” 

“You hear that, Reg?” You called to your boyfriend. “Theo promises he’ll be good. If he breaks that promise, then you have every right to bend him over and spank him until he’s sore.” 

Regulus smirked. “It would be my pleasure, mon amour.” 

“Yes, yes, please…” 

“I love when you beg.” You licked his tears and chuckled. “It’s like music to my ears, Theo.” 

“Please, please, fuck me.” Theo begged. “I want you. I need you. Please, Y/N.” 

“Aren’t you just adorable?” You taunted as you kissed his cheeks. “Don’t worry, pretty boy. I’ll put you out of your misery.” 

Theo watched through a heavy lidded gaze as you lifted your skirt up. His large hands settled on your hips as you eased down on his cock, taking inch after inch while he cursed. He released a shaky breath once he was all the way in, his chest heaving as he looked up at you in awe and wonder. 

“Che cazzo,” Theo grunted. “You feel so fucking good.” 

“You do too, pretty boy.” You clenched your walls around him, making Theo choke on air. “Do you feel that? You’re stuffing me full.” 

“Dio mio, you’re going to be the death of me.” 

“You don’t even know what you’re in for,” Regulus said as he slipped behind you. Your boyfriend bunched up your skirt so Theo could see how full of him you were. “She’s going to ruin you.” 

“I want it,” Theo pleaded. “I want you to ruin me, bella.” 

With that, you rode Theo hard and fast. He could barely catch his breath as you bounced on his cock. You were relentless, you were vicious, and you fucked Theodore Nott like you hated him. It was everything he ever wanted and more. 

Theo felt out of control as he watched his cock slip in and out of you, taking him over and over again. The sounds he was making were incoherent, but it was clear that he was out of his mind with pleasure by the way he whimpered and whined.

“Aw, honey, are you already close? I haven’t even shown you half of what I can do.” 

Regulus chuckled. “Take it easy on him, love. He looks like he’s about to pass out.” 

“I know he can take more,” you said. “Isn’t that right, Theo? Don’t you want to be a good boy for me?”

Theo barely managed to rasp out a pathetic yes. It was cute, really. “That’s what I thought. See, I knew you could. Under all that sass, you just want to be degraded and used like the fuck toy that you are.” 

“Yes, yes, oh god.” 

You giggled as you placed a kiss on his lips. “Look at you, all fucked out. Is this all it takes to shut you up? All you needed was for me to ride your cock until you can’t even remember your own name.” 

“Fuck, yes. Yes, use me. Abuse me. Do whatever the fuck you want,” Theo mumbled deliriously. “You own me, Y/N.”

A smile graced your lips. You had him right where you wanted him. “Tell me how much you like being used.”

“I fucking love it,” Theo admitted. “I love when you put me in my place. It’s bloody sexy.” 

“You’re lucky I’m even letting you touch me.” 

“God, I’m so lucky,” Theo groaned. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you…” 

You punctuated each declaration of gratitude with a hard grind, bouncing on his cock while he thanked you for fucking him. The ego boost was enough to make you cum. 

“You’re such an obedient little fuck toy,” you praised. “Don’t you love being fucked? It’s all you’re good for.” 

Theo moaned. “Am I good? Have I been good for you?” 

“So good,” you reassured. “My good boy.” 

“I’m so — I’m so close. Can I cum, please? Please, please, let me cum.” 

You kissed him deeply as you rolled your hips. “Go ahead, sweetheart. But keep those pretty eyes open, Theo. we want to watch you cum for us.” 

Theo obeyed and kept his eyes on you, his nose brushing against yours as he panted into your mouth. 

“That’s it, pretty boy.” Theo shuddered as you bounced harder. “Come on, give it to me. I know you want to. I know you want to be so fucking good for me, Theo.”

“Oh fuck,” Regulus moaned. His wrist flicked over his cock and you tugged at his hips so you could put your mouth on him as he came.

The filthy sight triggered Theo. As promised, he kept his eyes on you while he finished. Those pretty dead eyes came to life as he rode out the high and emptied himself inside of you. His cum painted your walls, filling you to the brim and stuffing you full.

Theo collapsed against the sofa, his head lolling over the cushions as you slowly eased off of his cock. A question formed on his face as he held your hips in place.

“What is it, Theo?”

“I want to taste myself on you.”

You smiled and kissed his forehead. “Come get it then, sweetheart.”

Despite the strenuous activities you were previously engaged in, Theo was as energetic as ever. He knelt before you and settled between your thighs, his eyes twinkling with anticipation. You could feel both of them dripping down your legs. 

The first few licks were exploratory as Theo gained his footing, but as he established a steady pace, he had you keening in no time. Your back arched off the sofa when his tongue and fingers worked your pussy. He held your hips down while he feasted, the moans spilling out of his mouth reverberating through your clit.

“So good, Theo,” you keened. “You’re so good at eating my pussy.”

“Say it again,” Theo pleaded. “Please, tell me how good I am for you.”

You ran your fingers through his hair and smiled down at him, maintaining eye contact. “You’re so fucking good for me. My pretty boy.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…”

You came at the same time, the orgasm crashing over you even harder than the last. Theo made a mess of himself, his cum sticky and smeared all over his toned abs. His head dropped in your lap as he gave himself over to the orgasm. The thought of bringing Theo to his knees and making him cum just from eating you out made you glow with pride.

Without having to ask, Regulus helped you put your clothes on and supported you as you stood on shaky legs. Grabbing hold of your wand, you conjured a basin and a washcloth and began to clean Theo up. You made sure to give him plenty of aftercare after such a draining experience. His eyes fluttered open as you peppered gentle kisses all over his face. 

“You did so well,” you cooed, stroking his cheek. Theo preened at the praise and attention. “I’m so proud of you. You’re my good boy.”

“You both did so well,” Your boyfriend praised. He kissed both of your foreheads which made you smile. “I knew you could play nicely.”

“Don’t get used to it, baby.”

Theo still looked a little out of it as Regulus brushed his hair back. “You alright there?”

Theo blinked, nodding through the post-orgasm haze. “Y — yeah. Yeah, I think so.” 

“You did a lot better than I did when she first edged me like that. I passed the fuck out.” 

Blue eyes widened as Theo looked up at you. “I…how… that was — fuck.”

Your boyfriend only chuckled. “Trust me, I know.” 

You straightened Theo’s shirt and helped him tug on his boxers and trousers back on. “Oh hush, I didn’t even use the collar on him.” 

“The collar?” Theo asked with a slight breathiness as in his voice. “What the fuck do you two get up to?”

“That’s a secret, Theo,” you murmured as you kissed his forehead. “But if you behave, you might find out.” 

As you settled back on the sofa, your friends began to trickle back in. Enzo and Mattheo fought over the stack of snacks they had nicked from the kitchens while Blaise, Draco, and Pansy trailed behind looking exasperated. Tom completely ignored everyone and retreated back to his dorm. 

“We found gummy bears!” Enzo announced excitedly before him and Mattheo dug right in. “You want some, mate?” 

Theo shifted in his seat, fidgeting as you leaned over to fix his tie. “Oh, this one has had his fill of treats tonight. Haven’t you, Nott?” 

You smirked as he tried to hide his flush. Regulus chuckled as you snuggled against him. “Play nice, mon amour.” 

“If I do, will you let me keep him?” You teased and winked at Theo. 

“Yes,” Theo nodded excitedly. “Please god, say you’ll keep me.” 

[goldenlikedayl1ght]

logan howlett blurb 18+

hi hi im sorry guys this isnt awesome but i love my wolverine and maybe ill make a part two or perhaps something cool like that if ya like it! also just general warning for smut and some kinky age gap stuff! also. reader is fem and a mutant! word count: 1030 edit: you can now read a full version of this blurb here!

You are absolutely enthralled with him. It’s actually sort of pathetic how your fingers twitch at the sight of him, at how the mention of his name or god forbid the sound of his voice makes your head snap up, attention deficit disorders be damned!

Funnily enough, you had no damn interest in Xavier’s stupid mutant school, because to you, you’re not an outsider because of your mutant abilities (that don’t have much of a physical apparition, at least one that you can’t hide) but because there’s never been much of a place for you to fit in.

But, you were behind on rent and of course, you fucking hate your job, so why not? You’d be able to be slightly less of a freak, and you’d get free room and board in the process! (Where Charles gets all of his money, you do not know.)

And because you’re a little older, Charles doesn’t force you to sit in a class room to learn about basic arithmetic and grammar lessons, so you really only do some training around three times a day, you have your own room (with a dusty box under the other bed, you also suspect your room used to be the ‘sex’ room) and you have the weekends off.

So for a twenty something year old with few ambitions, the social skills of a Martian with autism, and a huge crush on every older emotionally unavailable man you meet, it’s a pretty good set-up.

You’re waiting for time to pass in the garden, just reading a rather interesting book that Charles had recommended after he noticed you needed something to pass time before you started making bad decisions.

You hear his heavy footsteps on the gravel before you see him. Your heart beats faster, but you will yourself, do everything in your power not to glance up at him. And you let out a breath as you succeed, keeping your head down.

“In your natural habitat, are you, spitfire?” Your head darts up to him—There’s no way he isn’t talking to you, you know you’re the only one in this garden. And you can see his lips twitch up and you want to crawl out of your skin!

“My-My natural habitat?” You laugh, closing the book you’re reading because your attention is locked to him now.

“Yeah, seems like it.” He saunters on up to you and sits on the bench next to you.

And let’s make something very clear—

Logan Howlett does not sit.

This man poses, as if there’s always some invisible camera capturing every frame of movement, from the way his legs spread out, to the way his chest lifts when he inhales.

Fuck, you think you might die if you can’t suck him off right now.

“And what exactly is my uh.. habitat?” You question.

He takes out his lighter and a cigar, placing the cigar in his mouth as he gestures to the space around the two of you, lighter in hand.

“A garden.” He says, matter of facility, as his voice is muffled only the slightest bit by the cigar.

And you just sort of look at him before asking,

“Oh, you enjoy being boiled down to your mutations, Claws?” You question, and as he goes to light the cigar, he smirks.

“Alright, you gotta admit though, it is cliché!”

You are absolutely in agreement, there is zero doubt you are as much of a walking, breathing, real life living, stereotype.

“It is not!” And the pair of you give each other this look, like you’re both shocked at how whiney that statement is!

“Uh-huh, sure, Spitfire.” It sounds almost like he’s purring at you.

When he lights his cigar, he’s sort of eying you for your reaction, whatever you might say.

“You know, smoking is not only bad for you, it’s awful for the environment.”

“You’re probably the most cliché little freak around here.” Which.. honestly..? Shouldn’t possibly turn you on as much as it does.

You just stare at him for a minute, and he smirks.

“Cat got your tongue?’

And maybe it’s stupid and maybe it’s immature but your hand just comes over to fiddle with the pointed part of his hair.

“We’ll you certainly look the part.” He just looks at you, and honestly? The way he’s looking at you, it’s like he’s proud of you for teasing him.

“Aw, there’s my little spitfire,” He teases, just to see how red you get. And red you are— it’s embarrassing. And here’s the kicker—You are young. Exceptionally young, and what’s insane about that? How horny it makes both you and Logan.

The idea of fucking your innocent cunt, tight and all his, drives him genuinely mad. And you are, quite literally, a whore for the idea of riding this older man’s dick. You know he’s big—sometimes you see the outerline of it when he walks away from you all huffy and puffy.

“You’re a tease, Claws.” You respond, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Says you,” he raises and eyebrow, leaning closer to you now, “You’re the one laying around in the sun, looking like that.”

“Looking like this?” You scoff. You’re wearing a muscle tee and a pair of ripped jeans, but the gaps are huge and he can see your thighs. He wants to devour you, and you would let him if he only asked.

And let’s be clear—he is fucking you with his eyes. There’s no way to go around it.

“I think you’re just.. horny.” You tease, and he just growls. Seriously, this man who is undressing you with his eyes, growls, because he does want you and he is horny!

“I think you’re onto something.” He purrs, and you want to just.. god. You don’t know how to express the pit of desire that grows in you. “I would fuck you until you couldn’t think, right here among your pretty flowers. Would you like that, baby?” he asks, his hand finding your thigh.

But you just cough on the smoke from his cigar, before frowning.

“You really shouldn’t smoke.”

"Aw, I'll make it up to you," he smirks, "Promise, spitfire."

[prokopetz]

It's pointless arguing about which Link is the scrungliest because they're all the scrungliest, on different axes of scrungle.

Twilight Princess Link is scrungly in a Serious Fantasy Protagonist™ sort of way, his clothes and skin sporting an even coating of grime of no specific origin, forever slightly but noticeably damp, and inexplicably smelling faintly of used motor oil.

Breath of the Wild Link is scrungly in a lives-alone-in-the-woods sort of way: surprisingly well groomed, because Hollywood stereotypes notwithstanding, letting your hygiene slide is not conducive to long term wilderness survival, yet 100% prepared to catch a fish with his bare hands and eat it live and wriggling in front of you.

Wind Waker Link is scrungly in an unsupervised middle schooler sort of way – charming enough from a distance, but you probably don't want to know what he's got in his pockets, and if you touched him your hands would come away greasy. Why is he greasy?

It's scrungle all the way down.

[maspers]

Let's be honest, Adrien could totally get away with not wearing a mask as Chat Noir. He is literally so good at Clark Kenting. Everyone knows that Adrien Agreste is a Good Boy who is too Famous and Busy for superheroics, while Chat Noir is a pun-master who lives and breathes chaotic energy and probably lives in the slums based on stereotypes. Heck, it seems like most people forget Chat has a secret identity, because so much of his apparent personality revolves entirely around his role as a Superhero. Ladybug having a secret identity is obvious, she brings it up a lot, and anyone can examine her behavior and go like "Ah yes this person is using an 'I'm in charge here' voice". But Chat's just, like, always there. And always acting like Chat Noir. No way Adrien can be him. Adrien's schedule is so busy he never has time for anything. 

(It is particularly amusing that this logic also applies to Gabriel as Hawkmoth. Being overly dramatic the moment you get superpowers seems to run in the family)

[reiderwriter]

Unfair We're Not Somewhere

Chapter Eight of I Can't Help Myself

Summary: With a little bit of help from someone who could relate a little bit too closely to your situation, Y/N tries to come clean. Tries.

Warnings: Mentions of pregnancy symptoms/ general pregnancy things, unsub mentions, plot.

A/N: Chapter Eight! I'm so excited for where the rest of this series is going to go, though I do feel like people are going to be a bit annoyed by this one lmao. Let me know your thoughts in the comments below or in an ask! Don't be too mad...

Masterlist || Add yourself to the tag list

You sat quietly in the clinic as you waited for the pharmacist to fill your prescription - a simple pregnancy multivitamin that was supposed to help your food go down, make your hair shinier, and fix all your problems.

You wondered if the bottle could tell Spencer you were pregnant. You wondered if it could make him magically okay with that and prepare him for fatherhood, too. 

Your phone buzzed, and you surfaced from the field of thoughts you'd been lost in as you checked it. 

“Outside,” an unknown number had sent. You took that as your queue, stood up, and left the clinic, trying your best to avoid looking back at the small boy Spencer had been playing with. 

You weren't sure if you were going to have a boy or a girl yet. You didn't mind either, though you'd always envisioned yourself with a big enough family that you assumed at least one of each was inevitable. Though even you had to admit how stereotypically nuclear that was, and how only 18% of the country was living that was lying anyway. 

You shoved psychology from your head for a few minutes and let yourself breathe.

“Y/N!” JJ signalled from the driver's side of her still running SUV. She waved slightly, and you smiled politely as you quickly paced around to the side of her vehicle and got in. 

“Hi,” you said, unsure if you should introduce yourself or not. She'd been in the office the day you'd been taken into custody (protection), but you still had yet to speak to her. She'd been exempt from protective duty so far due to her status as a senior field agent and the fact that she had two kids and a husband at home waiting for her. 

You were sad she was the anomaly in the BAU, the only one with someone waiting on her. 

“I'm Y/N,” you said, still unsure if you should hold out a hand or not. You hadn't made the best impression on most of Spencer's colleagues, and while you didn't think there was much point in trying, you still couldn't bring yourself to be intentionally blasé. 

“I know, you're all we've been talking about for weeks,” the woman laughed, pulling out of the clinic car park and smiling at you. 

“Oh, right. Case. Of course, I've heard you probably know more about me than I know about myself.” 

“We have a profile, sure, but that's not what I meant.” 

You nodded awkwardly and stared out the window for a second, the sky darkening slightly as it prepared to rain. 

You drove for a few minutes before JJ spoke up again. 

“I don't know if Emily told you, but it's actually my day off today,” she said, turning off into a cul-de-sac you'd never seen before. 

“Oh, oh my god, I'm so sorry. I could've just got a taxi or something or just… gotten over myself. You didn't have to-” 

“Yes, I did,” she looked at you for a second, cocking her head to the side in a gesture that said, ‘and you know why.’ It was a look only a friend would give, and you felt an instant connection with her. 

How had Spencer found so many wonderful, big-hearted women to surround himself with, and how could you get in on it? 

You supposed, by letting him get you pregnant, you'd probably found a cheat code for whatever the answer might have been. 

“Anyway, it's my day off, so I promised my boys a fun day at home with mommy. We're doing finger painting and macaroni art. I hope you don't mind getting messy.” 

“Wha-? Me? Oh. No, not at all,” you tried to seem nonchalant, but your heart suddenly beat faster now that you were faced with this unexpected opportunity. As a lecturer, you'd been surrounded by kids professionally for years now. 18 to 21 year old kids. The kind that already had defined morals, world views, and, secretly, alcohol tolerances. The last time you'd encountered any kind of child younger than 18 was when you yourself were under 18.

The joys of toiling away at a doctorate for the better half of your adult life. You knew how to talk to professors and scholars. You were absolutely scared shitless of interacting with a kid. 

“H-How old are they?” You asked, trying to sound polite but falling somewhere between anxious and terrified with a simple stutter. 

“Well, Henry is turning 8 in November, and Michael is just about 22 months. He's just about talking, which is as fun as you can expect.” 

Her voice was tired, but there was genuine affection there, love for her kids and pride. You wondered if your voice would change if you'd suddenly begin speaking like that, too, about something other than a paper submitted to a journal or a job opportunity. 

She pulled into a street parking space and turned off the engine as two bright haired little boys came bouncing up the path of their garden to greet her, stopping at the gate. 

“Mommy! Michael got glitter on the carpet, and Daddy said we shouldn't tell you.” 

“And you have no sense of loyalty when a pretty face comes around, do you?”

Hopping out of the car, you heard JJ's husband drawl as she greeted him with a kiss. She'd probably only taken half an hour to pick you up, but they were still greeting each other so warmly. For a second, you wondered what that would be like before you remembered throwing yourself into Spencer's arms the night before. Your face heated as you stood awkwardly at the side of the car, trying not to cradle your stomach as you watched the family interact. 

Would your baby ever get that tall? Would it have brown eyes like Spencer, or one's more similar to your own? His hair was curly. Maybe your baby would get hair that waved like his, too. 

After all, JJ's kids seemed like perfect compromises between her and her husband. Other people's kids didn't, though. You wondered a lot of things before JJ gestured you over again. 

“Henry, Michael, this is Aunt Y/N. She's going to do those crafts with us today - after we've locked away the glitter and thrown away the key.” 

You laughed as she wrapped an arm around your shoulder and pushed you forward into the chaos of two kids under ten. 

You were a little startled as the smaller one - Michael - grabbed your hand. He had a pacifier in his mouth, though he was probably outgrowing it, and he stared up at you with big, wide eyes, blinking and sizing you up as he toddled along beside you. 

Your heart grew three sizes, and you felt sorry for ever being afraid of interacting with the kids. 

JJ whispered to her husband quickly as you entered the LaMontagne household, and he greeted you quickly. 

“So you're Spencer's lady friend. It's nice to meet you. It's nice that you're real. Honestly, I was getting a little-” 

A look from JJ cut him off, though he did still seem a bit confused. 

“I'm sorry, am I under the wrong impression? JJ said you were pregnant with Spencer's baby, y'all aren't…” 

“Oh my god-” you whispered, suddenly panicking again but whispering just in case. You weren't sure if the pair was religious, and though you certainly weren't, it probably wasn't the best time to blaspheme. You needed as much god as existed in the world. 

“So, does everyone know?” You asked JJ, trying to keep your voice bright and calm, so Michael didn't take too much of an interest and grow frustrated by hushed tones. You knew enough about child development and psychology, it translated over, right? 

“Everyone who's observant. Luke noticed the pregnancy vitamins in your bag, Tara was talking about your mood swings in the office the other day. I guess you told Emily earlier, and I have two kids.” 

You nodded at the answer. 

“And Spencer?” 

“You haven't told him yet?” JJ asked, slightly surprised. 

“If I told him, you'd know.” 

“Well, you're right on that. He's not the most easy-going during pregnancy,” JJ laughed and steered you into the living space, where your de facto art studio had been set up for the day, along with the offending glitter bomb. 

“Really? You thought you could keep that a secret?” 

“Well, of anyone was going to find it, it was going to be my beautiful, smart, funny, profiler Wife,” Will said, giving her a small peck on the cheek as she rolled her eyes at him. “I'm clocking in now. Call me if you need anything.” 

You waved him off, and sat down with the kids. 

JJ started the craft and then planned your hasty escape as the two boys were enraptured by making the perfect macaroni necklace, dusting it in objectively too much glitter as they proudly created their art. 

In the kitchen, she handed you a mug, and you sipped it quietly as she began again. 

“So, you're not dating?” 

“Nope.”

“And he doesn't know you're pregnant?” 

“No.” You took another sip and shifted from one foot to the other. 

You knew what was coming next. It was what you'd gotten next from Emily, from Penelope, from yourself when you'd thought about it for longer than ten seconds. You needed to tell him. 

“Okay. What's your next move?” 

You were so shocked you almost splashed the hot tea over the mug you held, close to burning yourself as you turned to face her. 

“I… what?” 

“Well, what's your next move? You're what, five months along? You're not going to be able to hide it for much longer. And you have to think about maternity leave, your hospital stay, and names, and who's going to drive you to the hospital. And obviously, how you're going to pay the hospital fee, and then custody and child support.”

“Oh god…” 

“And you also have to sort your relationship out with Spencer. So where are you starting?” 

It wasn't a question that didn't have an answer. JJ was staring at you, waiting for one as you opened and closed your mouth, head suddenly so empty you almost forgot what you were talking about. 

“He doesn't like me,” you suddenly blurted and wished you hadn't, face crumpling as you physically cringed at your own words. 

“Y/N, he was telling us about your toothbrush yesterday. Part of the office has a theory that he made up this case as a reason to get closer to you.” 

Again, you felt the heat blossom on tour skin as you looked away, taking another sip. 

“We don't do anything but argue.” 

“You do at least one other thing,” JJ said, hands on her hips as she confronted you. 

“No, that doesn't count. We were still arguing while we were doing…that.” 

“TMI,” she groaned as you fanned yourself. “Y/N, I know for a fact that Spencer is at least half in love with you. If you're absolutely sure you don't feel the same way, you need to at least let him down easy.”

“I…. I don't know. He's infuriating sometimes, but then he's so smart and annoying. But he's pretty great at comforting me. And the, uh, the other stuff, that was good, too.” 

“Don't need to-” 

“Like really good. Like, I'm not surprised I ended up pregnant practically first time good-” 

“Back on topic, please!” JJ whisper shouted, throwing her hands up as you zipped your mouth shut.

“You like him,” she said. 

You sighed and finally gave in. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I like him.” 

“Great. What next?” 

“Next, I tell him I'm pregnant and make him hate me for a while.” 

She patted you on the back and poised you another mug of tea before leading you back over to the kids and sitting beside them at the table. 

“We can plan something later. For now, macaroni art is calling.”

You weren't sure if it was the stern, practical pep-talk from JJ or the little tiny grasp of your hand from Michael. Maybe it was even Henry's goodbye of ‘see you soon, Auntie Y/N’ that had you suddenly invigorated, but you suddenly kicked yourself into gear. 

The pregnancy wasn't going to put itself on pause while you worked up the courage to tell Spencer about it. You had to do it. 

JJ dropped you off at home at 6 p.m., knowing that Spencer would be back at the apartment shortly. 

“You're sure you don't need me to stay up there with you? The commute can get a bit long this time of night, Spencer could be anywhere between 15 and 45 minutes.”

“No, I think… I think I need some time to think about how I'm going to do this. I need some alone time.”

She nodded quietly and sent you off after calling Spencer and giving him an update on your whereabouts. 

You paced the apartment wondering what the best option was. 

You could go for the bookshelf again, though it was still organised into your first message. You'd not moved a book in that stack at all, and surprisingly, neither had Spencer. 

Running into your room, you grabbed the pair of baby shoes you'd thrown into your bag from your apartment. Maybe if you left them on the shelf next to the books…? 

You put them there and frowned, wondering if he'd be able to see them from the door when he walked in. He was so used to the surroundings of his house that he really didn't check for irregularities. 

You moved them to the coffee table. Then you wondered if you should just hand them to him when he walked in. 

“Spencer. I am..pregnant,” you practised, looking into the bathroom mirror as you tried to force a smile. 

“Spencer. We're pregnant. No, not a chance,” you sighed. 

“Spencer, I have a parasite growing in me. I've had it for five months now, and then I'll have it for another four and hopefully a long time after that as well.” 

That one was mostly a joke. Mostly. 

“Spencer, I… We're going to have a baby.” You looked down at your bump again and decided that was probably your best option. It wasn't a state. It wasn't a condition or a parasite. It was a baby. 

You rubbed your stomach again and looked up, wiping away tears from the corner of your eye as you composed yourself again. 

The doorbell rang, and your heart race picked up. It was time. Spencer was home, and you were going to tell him. 

Suddenly, you were filled with excitement, with happiness. You ran to the door, stepping on the sofa to get there quicker as you ran to pull it open. 

Maybe it was the pregnancy brain fog, but you forgot where you were. 

Spencer Reid lived in this apartment. He didn't need to knock on the door or ring the doorbell. He'd never done it before. But you'd already swung the door open quickly, and you were so relaxed and ready for it to be him that when a hand extended and covered your mouth with a cloth, thick with a scent that had your body protesting, you could do nothing but crumple to the floor with your hands cradling yourself, protecting the life growing within you. 

🔖@mindfullycriminal @aliteralsemicolon @r-3dlips @alexafromamazon15 @jasf444 @subunitless @thebloomingeagle @lackingoriginalthoughts @empressgraytea @2hiigh2cry @jiuseoks @readinglatenights @placidus @dreamsarebig

@pisceslovrr @waywardgoddess66 @tampon_racecar @kbaby-024 @luvdella @feyresqueen @a1dyn @pleasantwitchgarden @kolasbombaf @lovehadlovelost @kissesforspence @moonchildooh @bubbleebubz @theoraekenslover @melagem02 @calypso-read

@ari-aurelia @flipsideoflife @mggreidsreads @@farfromthehomelands @spicyspirit @donttrustlove @chicaconfudidaycuriosa @ivet4 @nox-xie @sarakay-gvf @miss-ev @@nvrlandqueen @delicatelittleworld @nokjhg @measure-in-pain @famouslynerdy @batrensworld @batrensworld

@Cattosmush @im-this-girl @Sarcasm-and-stiles @lovemelaunic @lllucere@ Cattosmush @lariclifford @daphnesutton Ccatstars @Iniyalovesall @solemnarration @emma-e-a @haygirleyhay Mel-knee @broadwaytraaaaash @Wildflowerpassion @itshardtopickaname @Timidquindim

@yourfavoritefangirl @waywardxrhea @Aliceofonederland @joshuafatubaee @jc10622 @timeboundkate @Roslxnxx @Gensthoughts23 @marvelshittt @lavvylove @Slitherss @mythumbhurts @Xiaexact @Honestlyloving @maryyy-8

@timeboundkate @justdamnpeachy @awezomezauce @darling006 @thefalseapp @chicaconfundidaycuriosa @fabulouslynerdy @short-mess @maeganme @crazyunsexycool @redmoonsofvenus @supraveng @lilscb @jackierose902109 @thebooklocket

[wonton4rang]

can you do riize bf hcs? 💗💗

hiii, ofc!!! my first riize request/ drabble/ thought, oh my :')

btw, guys, i wanted to make something clear with my riize content, for me riize is 7. i understand that some might be mad at seunghan for having a normal life and dating before he was even an idol, or smoking like he's harming your lungs or something, but i don't really mind. he worked hard to get here and even though he might have come across as someone problematic, i believe we should never mix the idol's personal life with their job (in this case, as it's not something that bad, it's not seungri y'all iykyk). they are people, you talk shit behind someone's back too and you don't get fired for it so please understand this and respect my point of view <3 if you feel uncomfortable with that, feel free to stop reading my riize content and live your life.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Can I be your boyfriend?

pairing: riize x reader.

warnings: +18, mentions of smut.

summary: how i think riize would be as boyfriends (two povs - daily life + intimacy)

note: i had like over 3-4 weeks with this in drafts because i couldn't finish the maknae line (han, hee & ton) but here it is, hope y'all enjoy !! my first riize post <33 pd. i did NOT read this again so it might contain typos, i will try to correct it asap :')

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

shotaro;

daily life: he would be a really funny and nice boyfriend to be around. being so kind and his eye smile being so dreamy that you could literally feel your knees getting weak and that fervent desire of pinching his cheeks. he would definitely selfie text you every time he can, "how you doing, baby?" *insert selca*, "did you eat something already?" *insert mirror selfie*. plus, i also think that he would be the type to like to have you on his lap. idk, it just feels right and natural to me.

intimacy: i have been seeing taro since nct and tbh the amount of sex this dude likes to have is insane. like i just see him fucking you three times a day like a fucking meal. he would be fast yet precise, nothing sloppy or out of place, he would whisper in your ear how much he likes you and would give you a reassuring smile when you were about to come that just melted your heart over and over again.

eunseok;

daily life: contrary to his usual behaviour and demeanour, i do think he would be very touchy. probably not really bubbly or acting all cutesy but he is for sure having an arm around you at all times, acting like it's the most natural and normal thing and like he isn't thinking about the way you breath under his touch with every second that goes by. he would also be the type to stare at you all lovingly when you are saying something and then nod with that "i love you so much i'm going crazy" smile on his pretty lips.

intimacy: i have two things for this one, or he is very dominant or he is a lay back type of person. let me elaborate, in both of them he is dominant but the first one is him actually taking control of your movements, physically manipulating you during sex to get you where he wants, when he wants it. on the second one, is more like he layed back and told you to ride him or something but his face has that smug look that you loved-hated because it meant that he was not touching you and you had to do all the work today. but honestly, i feel like he could also have his lovey dovey days and just make love to you!! also, the way this man loves to receive head has to be studied. it came to me in a vision and i actually can give testimony of it :p

sungchan:

daily life: do you guys know this stereotype of the typical sporty, extroverted, funny, tall, handsome and very loving and centered boyfriend? well, meet sungchan. he would video call you at any time, during his morning lecture at college, during his workout session at the gym, while he was waiting for the showers to empty on the changin room. always, everywhere. he would drop by your house almost every night to check up on you since your job and his daily schedule at college wouldn't allow you guys to meet. he would be the type to be so offended if you ever think he would cheat because he doesn't have eyes for anyone else but you !!

intimacy: mr. i'll make love to you on weekdays and get freaky on the weekends fr. he would usually fuck you missionary, looking into your eyes and kissing your lips like a starved man while his dick reached so deep inside of you that your legs would shake. but when the time came, he would also get creative, bending you over the dining table and fucking you raw before pulling out and coming in your ass, ruining your pajamas but making your night the best :((

wonbin:

daily life: princess treatment type of boyfriend. but not just towards you, he is expecting the princess treatment right back. he would dress up so nicely to go and see you, expecting to find you on your best fit too! he would like to help you choose your clothes and even go shopping, getting you both matching jackets and jewelry. idk why but i also see him as the type to like to cuddle at home with you while watching a movie over going outdoors.

intimacy: he has the strength and the body the fuck you senseless but hear me out when i say this man is more of a sub that you could ever imagine. he would try to play it nice and not be so obvious about the fact that he is creaming his pants when you start to move while sitting on his lap, he would hold his soft whines in by biting his bottom lip and then lowering his head to hide the blush across his cheeks. and it doesn't take you a minute to notice and drop to your knees so you can suck him off, feeling his delicated hands tangle in your hair and press you down so he can slowly fuck your throat. just have in mind that your pussy it's next and wonbin has one of the best staminas i've seen in a dancer.

seunghan:

daily life: i personally see seunghan as an energetic person, always trying to be cheerful and thinking of a joke that matches the current vibe, or just laugh along, but i also feel like he'd be a very romantic boy. really into this gentleman persona that would have you weak on your knees and giggling all day, he would take to you to sweet dates, matching couple sweaters and bracelets, long walks at night while you just hold hands and then end up kissing in the entrance of your apartment before trying to say goodbye because he would push you inside and cuddle you all night whenever he has the chance </3

intimacy: yeah i guess we all know where i'm going with this but lord have mercy on you when he decides to show up and say it's time to get naughty. he would start with soft touches, kisses that would slowly get longer and deeper, and a long forgotten movie on your living room while he undressed you on your room. he would be rougher than sungchan but relatively slower, fucking you nice and deep rather than fast and sharp.

sohee:

daily life: pookie. the pookiest pookie of all. but heads up, he might be really cute, his smile might look so innocent that would make you second guess when you said something with a slight double sense and he just look at you like 🫣 he would try to make you food, try to help you around in the house, try to even help you with your homework but would only end up sitting by your side, caressing your frame, your arms and hair, while he made you one or two jokes and sang some lovey dovey tune to your ear.

intimacy: contrary to popular thought, i don't think he is THAT much of a sub. he mainly is, yes, but i also feel like he would be a great dom. like, picture sohee, nicely built body, sharp eyes, playful smirk, freaky hands and sweet yet masculine voice tone whispering in your ear how good your pussy tightens around of his dick, his hands holding your waist and your fingers tangled in his hair... yeah, we need more dom sohee content :')

anton:

daily life: i've always thought that he would be the messiest boyfie ever. he would try to impress you by doing or saying stuff you really didn't care about but you found it so adorable and endearing that you eventually had interest for all the stuff he showed you, because he wanted you to know you had a great and knowledgeable boyfie!! but on the other side, he would just be himself, turning into this boyfriend-best friend kinda thing that you both loved.

intimacy: idk why i feel like he would be a little shy. maybe not shy shy but like he would hesitate at first, not knowing if you'd like this or that and doing none because he didn't wanna make you uncomfortable. however, when he finally gets a hold of you??? gurllll you better be ready. i feel like he's the type to slowly fuck you so good you would end up edging most of the times because he would just be so patient, so precise and yet lacking velocity, but it was on purpose because he would bring your orgasm in a silver plate when he thrusts so fast into you you actually think the bed would crack.

[centrally-unplanned]

There are two big "AI Art Discourse" events of note recently, which I thought were interesting: ACX's "AI Art Turing Test" and the new paper on "AI Poetry Beating Human Poetry". Both of these I think reveal the shape of "what is AI art for", and also say a lot about how these results were utilized in discourse.

To take the latter first, some academics quizzed people on some poetry and had these results:

We found that AI-generated poems were rated more favorably in qualities such as rhythm and beauty, and that this contributed to their mistaken identification as human-authored. Our findings suggest that participants employed shared yet flawed heuristics to differentiate AI from human poetry: the simplicity of AI-generated poems may be easier for non-experts to understand, leading them to prefer AI-generated poetry and misinterpret the complexity of human poems as incoherence generated by AI.

More human than human poems! This certainly seems impressive - and it is. You couldn't have gotten these results ~5 years ago. But that maybe doesn't mean as much as you might think? Because here is the opening half of the winning "Walt Whitman AI" Poem:

I hear the call of nature, the rustling of the trees, The whisper of the river, the buzzing of the bees, The chirping of the songbirds, and the howling of the wind, All woven into a symphony, that never seems to end. I feel the pulse of life, the beating of my heart, The rhythm of my breathing, the soul's eternal art, The passion of my being, that burns with fervent fire, The urge to live, to love, to strive, to reach up higher. I see the beauty all around, the glory of the earth, The majesty of mountains, the miracles of birth, The wonder of the cosmos, the mysteries of the stars, The poetry of existence, that echoes near and far

This fucking sucks. Straight up 2/10 poem. Did this bitch seriously establish the world's most predictable rhyme scheme only to try to rhyme wind with end? You had one job that you chose for yourself, and you screwed it up! This poem has been written a million times before, and says nothing - the Miley Cyrus lyrics of verse.

The reason this won is, yes, because AI tools have advanced heavily in the past few years. But it is also because it is being tested on a dead art. No one cares about poetry - certainly not the survey respondents:

We asked participants several questions to gauge their experience with poetry, including how much they like poetry, how frequently they read poetry, and their level of familiarity with their assigned poet. Overall, our participants reported a low level of experience with poetry: 90.4% of participants reported that they read poetry a few times per year or less, 55.8% described themselves as “not very familiar with poetry”, and 66.8% describe themselves as “not familiar at all” with their assigned poet. 

"Or less" is doing a LOT of work there; "yeah I read a few nonfiction books a year" oh sure, totally. 90% of these respondents haven't read a poem that wasn't displayed in the end credits of Minecraft since high school. No one does, poetry as a medium is essentially a relic. That isn't an insult to poets, by the way! There is no shame in being a niche. Not everyone can have the reach of hentai doujin artists; the community is small but they get a ton out of it. But you can't take the art of the community and expect that art to hit outside of it.

This survey didn't ask people to evaluate art; it asked people to evaluate their stereotypical impression of an art they don't care about. It was ~600 people hired off a website, they banged it out ASAP and moved on. This is not to invalidate the results; I am not actually claiming that "real" poets would have scored much better? Maybe, I don't know - that just isn't very relevant.

Let's swing to the AI Art Turing Test results to get more into why. Again, AI art is absolutely "art" in the sense that it is able to pass the test handily. You have to be head-in-the-sand at this point to think that AI can't make an impressionist painting a la the "most liked" art in this contest:

I have seen the "well real paintings have physicality this is a jpeg" discourse points and the cope couldn't be more real - 99% of art consumption in the modern world is digital or at least prints, let's get you back to bed grandma. But I did find it pretty funny that Scott noted this AI piece as one he particularly liked:

Because it is nonsensical, right? All that "faded paint", how was it originally painted - just bucket splashes of red and blue? What are those random doors, the random stairs going nowhere on the sides, the vague-nothings engravings? Scott just didn't care about that - he liked the vibe, right? Ancient ruins, epic scale. It isn't a coincidence that the Impressionist art did the best - current AI tools are always impressionist, they have an idea of the vibe and invent the details in between. In Impressionism that is the whole point.

Now the trap is to go "REAL artists can tell because of this or that" because idk, the tools might get better, they might fill in more and more details. The real revelation here is that you don't need the tools to get better - visual art isn't so different from poetry. Most people don't pay attention to it all that much. You see thousands, thousands of pieces of art a week; you probably don't even realize how many. Do you really care if the fading paint makes coherent sense on a billboard ad or a doctor's office wall painting? So much art that is made is "industrial" in this sense - it has no need to be good. Only good enough to fulfill its utilitarian role. In these fields AI absolutely is going to Take Your Jobs in some form, and already is (though imo not a ton of them). And it won't really bother most people. This can go pretty deep - I promise you people are "utilizing" AI porn right now. They are ~appreciating the details~ way more than is typical, the product is working.

All this works until it doesn't, though. When it is an art book by a favourite artist whose vision you want to pour over, learning that all the individual details were just made by AI completely defeats the purpose, right? Imagine reading a book of these poems. Outside of the novelty, "AI is the point" factor you would rather watch infomercials on repeat, I can't imagine a more pointless use of my time. "Reading arbitrary poems" is never fun, regardless of the quality of the poems. Most people don't care about poetry! The reason you care is that you care about the poet, and what they want to say. You read poetry with context, it being inserted with intent into the pages of a manga, at the end of a video game, because you like the artist and follow them on twitter. The quality of the prose isn't more important than that.

Which is a harsh limit for all of these kinds of tests. They essentially aren't testing art, right? You do not ever get paid twenty bucks to sit down and read a dozen poems and score them. That has no bearing on how you would actually ever learn to care about a poem. Which doesn't make AI art useless or anything, more that these tests will very quickly run into their limits of what they can meaningfully tell you. The actual bar is "creating something someone cares about". From that lens, I fully believe hybrid methods that privilege artistic intent are currently working and will improve. But I think for "solo" AI art getting that to work is going to be complicated.

[mariclerc]

Falling for you (pt.4) | cl16

Summary: thanks to a debt owed by your father you have to marry the boss of the mafia.

Warning: mafia au, fluff, 5 years age gap, insecure reader, mafia boss!Charles and a bit of suggestive content.

Part 1, part 2, part 3

After what happened at the casino that night, you and Charles returned to Tuscany and everything was going on as usual - he with his sweet gestures towards you, divine food and barefoot walks in the villa's garden. But, putting that aside, you feel a slight emptiness in your chest.

What happened with your father doesn't hurt you in the slightest, because it's what someone like him deserved a long time ago, but something that is not so easy to forget is the constant humiliation and hurtful words about your physique that he said to you almost daily when you were still living with him, months before you married Charles.

Right now you're standing in front of a large, ornate mirror, your reflection staring back at you. You're wearing a simple pink silk nightgown, the thin fabric clinging to your small frame. A sigh escapes from your lips as you critically examines your reflection, just like your father would do to you daily.

You're petite, with curves that don’t quite fit the stereotypical model image... Your thighs are thick, your breasts small, and the words your father had spat at you in the casino echo in your mind every single day since that night, a cruel reminder of his constant criticism of your appearance.

“He’s probably wondering why he’s stuck with someone so damaged like me.” you whispered softly to yourself.

A pair of strong arms wrap around your waist from behind, pulling your back against a warm, solid chest. Charles’ familiar scent of sandalwood and aftershave fill your senses.

“Stuck with you? Oh, cara mia, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” (my darling)

He rests his chin on your shoulder, his warm breath tickling your ear. You shivered involuntarily, a mixture of nervousness and pleasure coursing through your veins.

You turned slightly in his embrace. “You don’t have to say that, Charles...”

“Oh, but I have to, tesoro.”

He gently turned you around to face him, his hands cupping your face. His gaze is intense, filled with a warmth that melts some of the ice around your heart.

“You’re beautiful, y/n. Absolutely stunning!” he whispers softly.

He traces the curve of your cheek with his thumb, his touch sending a shiver down your spine... You blushed under his gaze, your shyness battling with the unfamiliar flicker of desire you feel in his presence.

You looked down at your feet. “I’m not… I’m not like the other women you… you’ve been with.”

He chuckled softly. “Other women? They’re just… shadows. You’re the real thing, piccolina, you’re the sun, the moon, the stars… all rolled into one person.” (little one)

He gently lifts your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. “These thighs…” he runs his hands along your thighs, his touch sending a wave of heat through your body. “…they’re perfect for holding onto, and these breasts…” he gently cups your breasts in his hands, his touch is surprisingly tender. “…they’re perfect for… well, for everything.”

He leans in and kisses you softly, a slow, lingering kiss that makes your head spin. When he pulls back, your eyes are wide with surprise and a flicker of something more.

“You’re perfect, y/n. Every inch of you! And I want to show you just how beautiful and sexy you are in my eyes.”

He pulled you close again, his arms wrapping around your waist. You rest your head against his chest, the steady beat of his heart a comforting rhythm against your ear. The insecurities that had plagued you moments before begin to fade, replaced by the warmth of his embrace and the sincerity in his voice. You're still shy, still uncertain, but a flicker of hope begins to ignite within you.

He whispers against your hair. “My sweet little melody… my delicious temptation…” he kisses the top of your head. “So precious and exquisite.”

He continues to murmur sweet and sexy nicknames against your skin, each one sending a fresh wave of heat through your body. His hands gently caress and worship your body, slowly chipping away at your shyness and insecurities and replacing it with a growing sense of desire.

The Tuscan sun streams through the window, illuminating the room and casting a golden glow on your intertwined bodies, the morning stretches before you two, full of promise and the intoxicating possibility of something more.

You and Charles and surrender to the rising tide of passion. His touch, initially hesitant and exploratory, becomes more assured, more possessive, yet remains infused with a tenderness that melts away your remaining inhibitions. He kisses you deeply, his lips moving against yours with a slow, deliberate rhythm that sets your senses ablaze.

He lifts you gently, carrying you as if you weighs nothing, and lays you down on the plush bed. The soft silk sheets cool against your heated skin, he leans over you, his eyes burning with a mixture of desire and adoration. He continues to kiss you, his lips trailing down your neck, across your collarbone, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

He whispers against your skin. “You’re so beautiful, tesoro. So perfect for me.”

His words are a balm to your soul, erasing years of insecurity and self-doubt. You arched your back, your body instinctively responding to his touch, the unfamiliar sensations both exhilarating and slightly overwhelming. This is the first time that you surrender completely to someone, and the feeling is exciting.

Your voice is breathy, almost like a sigh. “Charles… it… it feels…” you struggled to find the words to describe the sensations that are coursing through your body, the warmth that is spreading from your core outwards, the fuzzy, almost dreamlike feeling that is enveloping you.

He smiled softly, understanding in his eyes. “I know, cara, I know... Just let go, let me take care of you.”

He continues to touch you, his hands exploring the curves and valleys of your body with a reverence that makes you feel cherished and adored. His touch is gentle, yet firm, igniting a fire within you that you never knew existed. The pleasure builds slowly, steadily, like a crescendo of music, each touch, each kiss, each whispered word adding to the symphony of sensations.

Your voice is soft, almost a moan. “Charlie... It… it feels so good.” you closed your eyes, surrendering to the wave of pleasure that washes over you. You'd never felt anything like this before, this intoxicating blend of tenderness and passion, this feeling of being completely and utterly connected to another human being.

Charles whispered against your ear. “That’s my girl. Just relax baby, let it go.”

He continues to move against you, his rhythm slow and deliberate, building the tension, drawing you closer and closer to the edge. You clinged to him, your fingers digging into his back, your body arching against his. The world outside fades away, replaced by the intoxicating sensations of his touch, the warmth of his body, the sound of his heart beating against your ear.

He watches you closely, his eyes filled with a mixture of passion and tenderness, making sure that you're okay, making sure you're enjoying every moment. He murmurs words of encouragement and reassurance, his voice a soothing balm against the rising tide of pleasure.

“You’re doing so well, tesoro. So beautiful, so perfect.”

His words fuel the fire within you, pushing you closer and closer to the precipice. The pleasure intensifies, building to an almost unbearable crescendo. You cried out his name, your voice a mixture of pleasure and surrender, as you're swept away by the wave of ecstasy that washes over you.

In the aftermath, you two lie tangled together, your bodies still intertwined, your breaths coming in ragged gasps. The Tuscan sun continues to stream through the window, bathing the room in a warm, golden light. You rest your head against his chest, the steady beat of his heart a comforting rhythm against your ear. You've never felt so vulnerable, so exposed, yet so safe, so loved, so completely and utterly cherished.

The sheets are tangled around you two, a silent testament to the passion you’ve just shared. You take a deep breath, the air still thick with the scent of arousal and something sweeter, something akin to intimacy.

A wave of emotion washes over you – relief, wonder, and a profound sense of gratitude. A single tear escapes the corner of your eye and traces a path down your cheek.

You speak, your voice barely a whisper, thick with emotion. “I… I can’t believe I... I finally…”

You trail off, the words catching in your throat, the years of your father’s harsh criticisms, his constant belittling of your appearance and worth, and the things he forced you to do had left deep scars inside. The fear of inadequacy, the belief that you wasn't good enough, had haunted you for so long... But in Charles’ arms, in the aftermath of your shared intimacy, those insecurities begin to dissolve, replaced by a nascent sense of self-acceptance and a burgeoning confidence.

He tightens his arms around your waist, his touch reassuring and protective. “Shhh, amore. There’s nothing to be ashamed of, you were… magnificent.” he gently brushes away the tear that lingers on your cheek, his thumb caressing your skin with infinite tenderness. (love) “My little vixen… you set my soul on fire.”

He leans down and kisses your forehead, a soft, lingering kiss that speaks volumes. He then trails kisses down your temple, along your jawline, to the sensitive skin behind your ear.

He nips playfully at your earlobe, sending a shiver down your spine. You giggled softly, the sound muffled against his chest. The tension from earlier has completely dissipated, replaced by a comfortable warmth and a playful intimacy.

He kisses your neck, his lips lingering on the pulse point at the base of your throat. You arched your back instinctively, your body still humming with the aftershocks of your shared passion.

The ghosts of your past begin to recede, replaced by the promise of a future filled with warmth, acceptance, and the intoxicating knowledge that in Charles’ eyes, you're not only beautiful, but cherished, adored, and desired beyond measure.

***

The Tuscan sun streams through the kitchen window, illuminating the vibrant colors of the fresh produce scattered across the countertop. You are humming softly to yourself as you moved gracefully around the kitchen, a vibrant sundress swirling around your legs. The dress, a cheerful yellow with delicate white floral patterns, accentuates your figure, clinging to your curves in all the right places. The air is filled with the tantalizing aroma of simmering tomatoes, garlic, and basil – the promise of a delicious homemade pasta sauce. A couple of days have passed since that first intimate encounter between you and Charles, which has practically been a before and after in the lives of both of you, and insecurities no longer torment your thoughts as usual.

Charles enters the kitchen, his arms laden with fresh herbs gathered from the garden. Rosemary, thyme, oregano – their fragrant leaves release their intoxicating scent as he brushes past them. He stops dead in his tracks, his gaze fixed on you, the sunlight catches the golden highlights in your hair, making it shimmer like spun silk. The sundress, so vibrant and alive, accentuates the gentle curve of your hips, the subtle swell of your breasts, the elegant line of your neck. He stands there for a moment, captivated, his breath catching in his throat.

His voice husky, almost a whisper. “Dio mio… you’re breathtaking amour.” (my god) (love)

He sets the herbs down on the counter, his eyes never leaving the sight of you. He walks towards you slowly, his gaze intense, almost reverent... He reaches out and gently tucks a stray strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering on your cheek for a moment.

“That dress… it’s… it’s a crime against humanity... It’s too distractingly beautiful.” he leaned in, his breath warm against your ear, and inhales the scent of your perfume, a delicate blend of floral scent and citrus, mingled with the aroma of the simmering sauce. “You smell delicious. Almost as delicious as you look.”

He pulls back slightly, his eyes twinkling with amusement. You blushed under his gaze, a mixture of pleasure and shyness warming your cheeks.

You smiled softly. “You’re just saying that.”

He shakes his head, his gaze unwavering. “No, tesoro. I mean every word, you’re… radiant... Like the Tuscan sun itself.” he reaches out and gently traces the curve of your jawline with his thumb, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. “I can’t take my eyes off you. It’s like… like you’re a work of art... A masterpiece.”

He leans in and kisses you softly, a slow, lingering kiss that speaks volumes. The taste of you, sweet and intoxicating, mingles with the savory scent of the sauce, creating a heady mix that makes him dizzy with desire.

He pulls back slightly, his voice husky. “I’m going to have to taste you later... Along with that pasta sauce, of course.”

He winks, and you laughed while blushing, a genuine, carefree laugh that fills the kitchen with warmth and joy... The tension from the previous days, the lingering insecurities, they all seem to melt away under the heat of his gaze, replaced by a growing sense of confidence and a deep, abiding love.

You smiled playfully. “You’ll have to wait your turn, Mr. Leclerc... Dinner first, dessert later.”

You turned back to the stove, your heart fluttering with happiness. The rich aroma of your pasta sauce fills the Tuscan villa, mingling with the sweet scent of the herbs Charles has carefully chopped and added to the simmering pot. You two work together in the kitchen, a comfortable silence punctuated by the occasional playful banter and stolen kisses. The initial awkwardness of your arranged marriage has faded, replaced by an easy intimacy that feels both surprising and utterly natural.

As the sauce simmers, Charles pulls you close, his arms wrapping around your waist. He rests his chin on your shoulder, inhaling the scent of your hair.

“You know, cara, I never thought I’d find happiness like this.” his voice is soft, almost vulnerable. You turned in his embrace, your eyes searching his.

“What do you mean?” you asked him softly.

“Before you… life was, well… different. A whirlwind of parties, fleeting encounters. It was… empty, meaningless.” he gently cups your face in his hands, his thumbs caressing your cheeks. “But you… you’ve filled that emptiness with something… real... Something… beautiful.”

He leans in and kisses you softly again, a slow, lingering kiss that speaks volumes. When he pulls back, your eyes are shining with unshed tears.

“I feel it too, Charles. I never thought… after everything… that I could ever feel this way.”

The “everything” hangs in the air, a silent acknowledgment of the years of emotional abuse you endured at the hands of your father, Charles’ eyes soften with understanding. He pulls you close, holding you tight against his chest.

“You deserve to be happy, tesoro. You deserve to be loved. And I promise you, I’ll spend the rest of my life showing you just how much you mean to me.”

He kisses you again, this time with a fierceness that takes your breath away. The kiss is a promise, a vow, a declaration of the love that is blossoming between you two, a love born not of obligation, but of genuine connection and mutual respect.

The forced marriage, the initial awkwardness, the lingering insecurities – they all seem to fade into insignificance, replaced by a sense of belonging, a sense of peace, a sense of coming home. You looked at Charles, his face illuminated by the flickering candlelight, and a smile spreads across your face. This man, this mafia boss with his dangerous charm and unexpected tenderness, has become your sanctuary, your safe haven, your home.

***

Inside your shared bedroom, bathed in the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the sheer curtains, you and Charles prepare for the night. The remnants of the day’s laughter and shared intimacy linger in the air, creating an atmosphere of comfortable warmth and quiet affection.

Charles is sitting on the bed as he watches you brushing your hair, the moonlight catching the golden highlights and turning them into shimmering strands of silk. The simple act, so mundane yet so intimate, fills him with a sense of contentment he’s never known before. He walks over to you and gently takes the brush from your hand, his fingers brushing against yours. And then he started to brush your hair, his touch slow and deliberate, each stroke a silent expression of his love for you.

His voice soft, almost a whisper. “Your hair is like spun gold, tesoro.”

You lean into his touch, your eyes closing as you savor the feeling of his fingers against your scalp. The simple act of him brushing your hair feels incredibly intimate, a silent acknowledgment of the bond that has grown between you two.

“You’re spoiling me Charlie.” you say softly with a shy smile.

“Only the best for my beautiful piccolina.” he chuckled softly.

He finishes brushing your hair and gently places a kiss on the top of your head. He then pulls you close, his arms wrapping around your waist. You two stand there for a moment, embraced in the soft moonlight, the silence filled with unspoken emotions.

His voice husky, filled with longing. “I can’t get enough of you, mon bébé.” (my baby)

He leans down and kisses you, is a slow, deep kiss that speaks of passion and tenderness, of vulnerability and trust. You responded in kind, your arms winding around his neck, pulling him closer. The kiss deepens, becoming more urgent, more demanding, a reflection of the desire that burns between the two of you.

You suddenly break apart, breathless, your eyes locked in a silent conversation. He lead you towards the bed, your hands intertwined. And you two undress slowly, each touch, each glance, charged with anticipation. As you lie down together, the soft sheets cool against your heated skin, he pulls you close, his body molding perfectly against yours.

The night unfolds in a slow, languid dance of love and intimacy. Your shared whispers mingle with the soft sounds of your lovemaking, creating a symphony of shared pleasure and deepening connection. The moonlight continues to bathe the room in its soft glow, a silent witness to the blossoming love that is transforming your lives.

In each other's arms, you have found solace, comfort, and a sense of belonging you’ve never known before. The arranged marriage, once a symbol of obligation and duty, has become a sanctuary, a safe haven, a testament to the unexpected power of love to heal and transform.

[peeweekey]

super graphic ultra-modern girl like me!

pairing: haley x reader

wc: 2k

tags: mature (NOT explicit) , closeted lesbian haley , both of you are drunk , making out

synopsis: where sharing lipstick with your best friend haley makes you feel… things.

a/n: reader: oh ho ho, i sure hope kissing my bff doesnt awaken anything in me! (it did)

i wrote this listening to super graphic ultra modern girl by chappel roan! haley fits so many of her songs its insane

your head is aching, spinning like you were sent to another dimension that consists of disco flashing lights and the nauseating smell of spilt vodka—all thanks to the sheer amount of alcohol you consumed in the past 5 hours. it’s pushing 3 AM—the strappy 4 inch heels are chafing your feet, the skimpy skirt clinging to your hips ride up in a way that would scandalize the small village mothers, and body glitter covering every inch of your skin. 

you feel light, weightless as you flutter and float through the rhythmic bass engulfing the club. you nod your head to the beat of the music, swaying your hips that loosen with every sip of the sweet alcoholic drink in your hand. 

you’re bouncing up and down to party rock anthem when your phone buzzes. fishing it out of your pocket, you squint your eyes to make out the notification. you bow your head, trying to make out the message over the flashing lights.

an amused laugh bubbles out of you. haley.

—> go 2 thr bathroon rn

—> hurry or else

you turn and wobble out of the middle of the dance floor, swaying to the beat while maneuvering the sea of sweaty bodies. the bathroom is in an isolated corner by the entrance of the club. you push the door open, stumbling slightly when it takes a little less effort than you expect.

you enter the club bathroom, shutting the ornate door behind you. it slams with a resounding slam, dampening the loud candy pop songs blaring through the party outside. 

your heels click against cool marble as you saunter to the long, seemingly endless, stretch of mirrors and faucets. twisting the knob, a rush of tap water flows freely; it contrasts satisfyingly with the heated skin of your hands. you wet your fingers, dabbing your cheeks and neck with cool water. you sigh, shivering with the instant relief it brings.

as you cool yourself off, you think—you do wonder what haley’s predicament is, she texted you with much urgency. 

perhaps she fell into the toilet—or maybe she’s drunk herself to the point of spewing her guts out in one of these very cubicles. the latter though makes you giggle. a notification buzzes from your phone, as if the sound of your laughter summoned it.

—> idiot

—> i can hear u laughing from here

you snort.

suddenly, without warning, you feel a warm hand pull you into a stall. it’s a sudden jerking motion, and you almost lose your balance to fall flat on your face. a gasp rips out of you as you clutch on to the very warm, very soft thing that keeps you from falling and twisting your ankle. before you even register the situation, you’re being dragged in to sit on the closed lid of the toilet. 

you’re frazzled, knocked off balance by a rude and very disrespectful stranger who obviously has no morals. you feel your blood boil, ruthless insults ready at the tip of your tongue—

—then you look up, and that feeling dissipates. instead, a cheshire grin splits your face, “haley.”

she’s the living breathing stereotype of a wild party girl like this; blonde hair in waves down her back that smells sweetly of strawberries, nails buffed and painted a pretty baby blue, and make-up done up to the absolute nines. her sequin skirt sparkles and winks as she shifts. pretty, you’ll ask if you could borrow it next time—

manicured fingers snap and you’re pushed out of your own thoughts. haley crosses her arms, standing in between your thighs, looking down at you with a displeased expression. “took you long enough.”

you offer a sheepish smile. “i was busy.”

“yeah,” she sneers, locking the stall door behind her. “busy shaking your ass to trashy zuzu club songs.” 

you ignore the sharp jab with a roll of your eyes. “what’s up?” you ask, your words slur slightly, almost tapering off into incomprehensible gibberish. “didya you puke or something?”

“ew. no,”the loud is just making my head hurt,” she replies, massaging her temples. “stick your legs together, i’m gonna sit on your lap.”

she knocks your thighs together with her knee. haley maneuvers you to her liking, your bare thighs pressing together when she spins and sits perpendicular to your lap.

“hm.” you feel the weight of her settle on top of your thighs. the warmth of her skin meeting yours under the cut of her skirt. you barely repress a shiver at the heat radiating off her skin. “woah! okay now you really have to tell me what’s going on.”

you're met with a faceful of strawberry-scented blonde hair when she shifts away—ignoring you. good news for her, your drink-addled brain doesn’t seem to care. in fact, your drunk brain figures it is a perfect time to shamelessly flirt. your tongue is loose enough, and your brain has completely thrown away its filter. as friends, of course; building camaraderie as people say.

“you smell nice, did you use that strawberry shampoo i gave?” you murmur, brushing the locks away from your face. you feel haley squirm in your lap. you know she used it, the pride bubbles up in you at the thought. 

it’s overly warm, that plus the buttloads of alcohol brewing in your gut makes your skin feel on fire. 

haley growls. “stop talking, dumbass.”

you roll your eyes, pinching her thigh. she yelps, high and breathy, swatting your hand away. she meets your eyes, her blonde brows furrowed.

“geez…” a lazy smile playing on your lips. “just take the compliment, hales.”

a ghost of a smirk appears on her cherry colored lips. glossy and pink. you wonder if they taste as sweet and tart as real cherries do—

you wince internally. thinking like that is not a good idea. damn your alcohol foggy brain, making you think of the inane idea of lusting after your best friend. 

you knock your forehead into her shoulder. “so are we just going to sit here all day?”

“i just need to touch up my lipstick,” she says. facing you with an expectant look. “then we can go back.”

“and that’s why you called me,” you raise a brow. your gaze trails to the cherry coat on her lips—it looks perfectly fine to you. in fact, she looks absolutely darling like this. 

“you need some?”

“…are you offering?”

“why not? we share all my shit anyway,” you shrug. “i think it’s somewhere in my purse—”

“where’s your purse?”

“i left it with the others, i think it’s with abby, i'll text her.” you say. fumbling for your phone, you reach in the hidden pocket of your skirt. the walls enclosing the cubicle restrict your movements; you bump your elbow against the flimsy wood as you dig deeper into the flimsy pocket. your skirt is skin-tight against your hips, you feel the woman above becoming increasingly agitated as your attempts to fish out your phone come out fruitless.

haley huffs above you, shifting; making your wary gaze snap back to her. she looks down at you with a pout—you’re damn sure she’s just as hammered as you.

“too far,” she whines, taking a firm grip of your jaw. your cheeks puff with the force of her squishing them, you feel the pointed tips of her nails digging into the fat there. she swings a leg over you, her hips bracketing your waist as she sits atop you. 

this position feels strangely intimate; like all your senses are overwhelmed with only haley. the heady scent of her skin, the short sounds of her breathing in your ears, the burning feeling wherever she touches—it’s all her, her, her.

which shouldn’t make you feel the way it’s making you feel; like you're buzzing with adrenaline. you feel the blood coursing through your veins at race car speeds—spreading all throughout your body. your cheeks feel hot, you feel dizzy with all your senses stimulated by your best friend.

the reverberating bass from the music outside shakes the walls; like some sort of finality as it thumps, thumps, thumps.

“hales,” you start, your mouth dry. “what—”

she stares at you, her crystalline eyes shining in the dim light of the bathroom. a pretty pink flush paints her cheeks til the tips of her pearl-adorned ears. you feel her breaths against your cheek—short and warm. “stay still, the gloss you have on your lips will do.”

your ears have to be fucking with you… your eyes widen and you swear you feel your heart jump up into your throat. “huh—”

“what?” she says in response to your wide-eyed expression. her tone drops to something akin to a purr. “your lipstick is such a pretty shade.”

helping is what friends are for, right? maybe this is merely the alcohol talking; because she doesn’t like you like that, totally—and the disappointment you feel is not because of that either. 

you swallow the heavy lump in your throat; your voice is strangled and stuttery when you speak. “f—fine.”

“perfect,” she grins. “hold still.”

this is the least you were expecting when you walked into the club bathroom; who knew you’d end up with haley in your lap and hovering over for what is technically a kiss. you will your eyes not to close, burning the view of her leaning over you into your brain. you shudder; this is not a sight that will leave you for months to come.

you squeeze her hip as her face hovers closer, palm lingering at her scratchy sequin miniskirt. you crane your neck, anticipating the brush of her lips against yours. your other hand travels to her upper back, stroking her locks of golden hair; under your ministrations, you feel her tremor slightly.

it feels like eternity when you finally connect. 

sparks fly the moment you feel the plush softness of her mouth against yours, moving in a salacious rhythm that you doubt is for only sharing lipstick. 

her lips are sticky with what remains of that cherry lip gloss; it smears all over your own lips, spreading your deep red lipstick everywhere; at the corner of your lips, at your chin. your eyes flutter shut, a contented sigh escapes your mouth and haley uses that as an opportunity to deepen the kiss. she drags her hand up and up, curling her fingers into the base of your neck.

you jolt, the pleasure fogs your mind; your thoughts are muddy, the only coherent thing is of haley. 

your tongue swipes at her bottom lip, chasing the fruity flavor of cherry cola on her lips. it’s sweet, she’s sweet. you feel lightheaded with the overwhelming sensations of it. sure, you’ve kissed once or twice—but it never felt like this; soft and desperate and hot and tingly, affecting you all throughout your body. 

your breaths are labored when she pulls away and you feel it's too soon. a clicking wet sound when her mouth disconnects from yours that makes you shiver. you feel dizzy with warmth; heat is pooling low in your belly, a low buzzing sensation overwhelms everywhere haley touches. 

her lips as wine-red as yours. the same color lipstick smeared messily on her lips. haley wipes the corner of your cupid’s bow, where some of the color had smudged, her breathing heavy and pupils dilated as you stare. her hands feel delightfully warm and soft against your skin. golden strands of hair brush against your cheeks, making you squirm in your seat.

you can barely restrain your delighted giggle, in awe of the absurdity of the situation. haley laughs too, a light sound like a tinkling bell. you slump against the cold tile wall behind you, boneless and in disbelief— did you really just make out with your best friend? and at a grimy club bathroom no less.

time seems suspended here, cramped in a stall with only the sound of heavy breathing. there will be a lot more questions when you leave, lingering glances at your pleasure-pulled hair and smeared lipstick. 

this is what friends do, what you and haley do. your eyes track her every move, unabashedly staring as she readjusts her top. haley catches your eye, smiling like the cat that got all the cream. 

she cranes her face to your ear, whispering. “thanks for the touch up, babe.”

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Hi! Could make some writing notes regarding what happens to the human body when making out? Like the temperature increase and dopamine release, stuff like that? Or maybe just how the body reacts when you're nearby/interact to/with a loved one. I hope you're doing well! I love your posts!

Writing Notes: The Physiology of Love

Love can be distilled into 3 categories: lust, attraction, and attachment.

Though there are overlaps and subtleties to each, each type is characterized by its own set of hormones:

Testosterone and estrogen - drive lust

Dopamine, norepinephrine, and serotonin - create attraction

Oxytocin and vasopressin - mediate attachment

When we are falling in love, chemicals associated with the reward circuit flood our brain, produce a variety of physical and emotional responses:

Racing hearts

Sweaty palms

Flushed cheeks

Feelings of passion

Anxiety

Two decades of research shows that when it comes to early-stage intense romantic love—the kind we often think of when we talk about being lovestruck—a very primitive part of the brain’s reward system, located in the midbrain, is activated first.

Some Physiological Reactions to a Kiss

Pulse and blood pressure increase

Pupils dilate

Breathing deepens

Rational thought retreats, as desire suppresses both prudence and self-consciousness

Lust

Driven by the desire for sexual gratification.

The evolutionary basis for this stems from our need to reproduce, a need shared among all living things.

The hypothalamus of the brain plays a big role in this, stimulating the production of the sex hormones testosterone and estrogen from the testes and ovaries. While these chemicals are often stereotyped as being “male” and “female,” respectively, both play a role in men and women.

As it turns out, testosterone increases libido in just about everyone. The effects are less pronounced with estrogen, but some women report being more sexually motivated around the time they ovulate, when estrogen levels are highest.

Lust and attraction shut off the prefrontal cortex (includes rational behavior).

Attraction

Dopamine

Produced by the hypothalamus, is a particularly well-publicized player in the brain’s reward pathway – it’s released when we do things that feel good to us:

E.g., Spending time with loved ones and having sex.

High levels of dopamine and a related hormone, norepinephrine, are released during attraction. These chemicals make us:

giddy,

energetic, and

euphoric, even leading to decreased appetite and insomnia – which means you actually can be so “in love” that you can’t eat and can’t sleep.

Norepinephrine, also known as noradrenalin, may sound familiar because it plays a large role in the fight or flight response, which kicks into high gear when we’re stressed and keeps us alert:

Released more often at the beginning of a couple's relationship when many unknowns are present, putting the brain in a ‘proceed with caution’ mode.

Early in a relationship, there is heightened adrenalin, which causes feelings like butterflies in the stomach and a faster heart rate. There is also reduced activity in the parts of the brain that help us to make judgements, which is why you may be 'blinded' to another person’s faults in early love or infatuation,

Brain scans of people in love have actually shown that the primary “reward” centers of the brain, including the ventral tegmental area and the caudate nucleus, fire like crazy when people are shown a photo of someone they are intensely attracted to, compared to when they are shown someone they feel neutral towards (like an old high school acquaintance).

Attraction seems to lead to a reduction in serotonin:

It is a hormone that’s known to be involved in appetite and mood.

Interestingly, people who suffer from obsessive-compulsive disorder also have low levels of serotonin, leading scientists to speculate that this is what underlies the overpowering infatuation that characterizes the beginning stages of love.

This explains why people in the early stages of love can become obsessed with small details, spending hours debating about a text to or from their beloved.

Attachment

The predominant factor in long-term relationships.

While lust and attraction are pretty much exclusive to romantic entanglements, attachment mediates friendships, parent-infant bonding, social cordiality, and many other intimacies as well.

The two primary hormones here appear to be oxytocin and vasopressin.

Oxytocin

Often nicknamed “cuddle hormone” or “hormone of love”.

Produced by the hypothalamus.

Released in large quantities during sex, breastfeeding, and childbirth.

This may seem like a very strange assortment of activities – not all of which are necessarily enjoyable – but the common factor here is that all of these events are precursors to bonding.

It also makes it pretty clear why having separate areas for attachment, lust, and attraction is important: we are attached to our immediate family, but those other emotions have no business there (and let’s just say people who have muddled this up don’t have the best track record).

The Brain During a Kiss

The brain goes into overdrive during the all-important kiss.

It dedicates a disproportionate amount of space to the sensation of the lips in comparison to much larger body parts.

During a kiss, this lip sensitivity causes our brain to create a chemical cocktail that can give us a natural high.

This cocktail is made up of three chemicals, all designed to make us feel good and crave more: dopamine, oxytocin, and serotonin.

Like any cocktail, this one has an array of side-effects.

The combination of these three chemicals work by lighting up the 'pleasure centres' in our brain.

The dopamine released during a kiss can stimulate the same area of the brain activated by heroin and cocaine. As a result, we experience feelings of euphoria and addictive behaviour.

Oxytocin fosters feelings of affection and attachment. This is the same hormone that is released during childbirth and breastfeeding.

Finally, the levels of serotonin present in the brain whilst kissing look a lot like those of someone with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.

No wonder the memory of a good kiss can stay with us for years.

Love happens less in the heart and more in the brain, where hormonal releases and brain chemicals are triggered.

Dopamine, serotonin and oxytocin are some of the key neurotransmitters that help you feel pleasure and satisfaction.

So, your body often approaches love as a cycle.

It feels good to be with that person, so your brain says, "Do that again."

Sources: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 ⚜ Notes & References ⚜ Love ⚜ Kinds of Love

Thanks so much for your kind words. Hope you're doing well yourself! Would love to read your writing if these notes inspire you.