#lockscreens the menu

[lokcscreen]

the menu (2022) - dir. mark mylod.

[aurorashard]

Yo if you watch a youtube video on mobile in a browser is desktop mode you can set it to loop and also switch to a new active window.

[mrtheinsatiable]

Y'all I'm about to become feral

Just dropped $400 on car maintenance, still Unemployed, and my phone has chosen now to just completely fuck itself

[incorrectbatfam]

Wayne Tower yelp reviews pls (wrong answers ofc)

★★★☆☆ Disappointed but not surprised

Was invited to the Wayne Gala held at the Tower this year to accommodate special guests from the Justice League. Was photographed by reporter Clark Kent. Wanted to meet Superman but he didn't show up. Food and atmosphere was good. Got told off for swinging from the chandelier. Why have a chandelier if not for swinging?

★☆☆☆☆ Not even gonna dignify it with a title

I'd give zero stars if I could. The CEO is a massive fucking asshole. He's full of nothing but smooth-brained takes. He claims he'll be there when you need him but never shows up. And when you RIGHTFULLY resent him, he'll turn around and pretend YOU are the bad guy. That isn't even touching on his AUDACITY to replace you so soon after you leave. You think you know this man, you think you've grown to trust him, and then he goes and stabs you in the back. Believe me when I say RUN. Get as FAR away from this company and that bastard Bruce Wayne as you possibly can.

★★☆☆☆ SOS

I work here. Too many emails. Half the execs are Boomers who can't export a PDF. The break room is out of coffee. My dad won't stop visiting the office. When will the nightmare end???

★★★★☆ Imperfect but respectable

I had the opportunity to visit Wayne Tower on Bring Your Child To Work Day. The building is up to code and I was able to view all the health code certifications. I admire that Wayne Enterprises takes care of its employees by allowing ample vacation time, in-house daycare, and well-maintained recreation spaces. The cafeteria did not have as many vegetarian options as I would have preferred, but I have been informed that they operate on a rotating menu, so I shall revisit again next week and possibly amend my review. I would leave five stars but I ran into Tim Drake on the way out and that brought the whole experience down a notch.

★☆☆☆☆ No Chipotle

Was told there was a Chipotle here. Did not find Chipotle.

★★★☆☆ Badge entry didn't work

I'm on the night shift at the company's call center. One time I was already running late but for some reason I couldn't badge in. The janitor wouldn't let me through even though I had proof I was supposed to be here. Had to escalate to the CEO. Still better than working the Batburger drive-thru though.

★★★★★ Hi Dad

Hi Dad.

★★★★☆ Good but...

I love the bathrooms. They're easy to find and very accessible for a wheelchair user like myself. There's plenty of space for me to navigate and the products are top-notch, especially the hot towels. The toaster oven under the sink also doesn't make sense, but then again, my lockscreen is Nightwing so I can't judge.

★★☆☆☆ No cats allowed

I got written permission from the CEO himself to bring my cat to the office, but the doorman turned me away. Next time, there should be better communication between the employees.

★★★★☆ Rooftop makes for good date

I brought my girlfriend up here for our anniversary date. The building has a beautiful view of the city and the restaurant was great. The bread was a little dry, but nothing that a little butter couldn't fix. Unfortunately, she's an on-call detective and we had to cut our evening short, but that's not the staff's fault.

★☆☆☆☆ Got called Bri'ish

Someone called me Bri'ish.

[jude-duarte-wannabe]

welcome to the bakery

currently playing; the bakery by melanie martinez "pack it, box it, flip it, top it... the bakery, i'm tryna make some more"

this was inspired by @bunnys-kisses so go check out their page, such incredible stuff <3

when you request, please make sure to let me know if it's from my smut prompts or my soft ones [soft request prompts are still in the works]

hey lovely, how can i help? may i take your order? what do you feel like today? personally i'm in need of some iced tea and all you have to do is pick a dessert, drink and server of your choosing please, please, please don't forget to indicate who you want me to write about!! also please keep in mind that i haven't written anything in a while so it might take a bit for me to back into the groove of it. <3

the bakeries i currently have open are: formula one, resident evil, bridgerton and criminal minds, just for now.[but i am open to any other fandoms you might have in mind! please do not hesitate to ask!!]

the servers i'm currently writing for include; charles leclerc, carlos sainz, lewis hamiltion, pierre gasly, lando norris, max verstappen, oscar piastri, leon kennedy, carlos oliveria, chris redfield, anthony bridgerton, benedict bridgerton, colin bridgerton, spencer reid, aaron hotchner and luke alvez.

i do also accept polyam relationships! [pairing + reader] but only three people just to make it manageable on my end!

all orders can be made to the inbox for @jude-duarte-wannabe and i'll get your order together when i can also let me know if you want your order to...

be extra hot; real smutty or have sweetener; extra fluffy

let me know if want to be added to my taglist by commenting <3 followed by the person.

the bakery menu;

pound cake; "i can be rough and i don't want to hurt you"

churro's; "does my sweet boy need comforting"

cheese scone; "let your brother find out, i don't fucking care"

mille-feuille; "that's it, shit, such a good fucking girl"

cinnamon buns; "no promises"

gingerbread; "i mean i would totally make out with her/him but like platonically, you know"

baguette; "give me a minute, i really need to tickle the shit out of you"

pretzel; "i was never meant to fall for you"

cornbread; "you taste really good"

strawberry shortcake; "he's so cute, i really want to bite him"

soda bread; "wait a second... am i your lockscreen'

focaccia; "i could beat the shit out of you" "i know"

choux pastry; "i can't believe i ever loved you"

pumpkin muffin; "shut up... my girls asleep"

dinner roll; "holy shit, you still love him/her"

cakepop; "goodnight to my future wife, fuck the rest of you"

pull apart bread; "i love you"

souffle; "i'll be gentle"

powdered doughnuts; "marry me"

s'more; "the accent got to you, didn't it"

waffles; "you spill a single fucking drop and we're starting again"

shortbread biscuits; "if he pisses me off again, i'm fucking his girl"

red velvet cupcake; "does he know that i cum deep inside his little angel'

pancakes; "no, we can't, not here"

coffee cake; "i need to breed you"

french toast; "i don't think it'll fit"

crepes; "go back to sleep, you don't need to be awake for this sweetcheeks"

sweet pastry; "i'm trying to get you pregnant, now shut up and let me concentrate"

butter tart; "stop, don't fake it"

sugar pie; "stop wriggling"

zebra cake; "i'll make it fit"

carrot cake; "dirty girl"

date scone; "i'm going to make you a mama and your going to make me a daddy"

cookie; "do you feel that, how fucking deep i am"

brownie; "no fucking touching"

cheesecake; "don't yell at me"

pumpkin pie; "are you nibbling on me"

chocolate cake; "i'll use protection, i promise"

spice pie; "i wonder if your brother know that i cum inside you"

apple crumble; "i can't do this while you cat/dog is watching"

sausage roll; "i hate being your secret"

blueberry slice; "but what if somebody see's"

mushroom pie; "that looks like it hurt"

apple tart; "what do you mean you want me to choke you"

lemon slice; "i forget how small you are sometimes"

swiss roll; "your glasses are fogging up"

truffle; "send me an audio of you moaning"

oaty slice; "you smell like me"

cream puff; "this ends when your pregnant"

custard slice; "no hiding your face"

victoria sponge; "you wanna hold my hand"

english muffin; "i could die between these legs"

bagel; "where you going, this ain't over"

banana bread; "i can't believe you broke my bed"

hot cross buns; "i'll pay for the damages"

apple turnover; "can you keep it down"

fudge; "what do you mean noise complaint"

peach cake; "i've never done this"

tiramisu; "how could you be so stupid"

crumb cake; "nobody has to know"

custard tart; "you gonna let me cum inside"

date pudding; "your going to let me rawdog you, oh fuck"

mince pie; "so fucking dumb"

angel food cake; "did you just squirt, since when could you do that"

savory scroll; "stop stressing, i'm not going to post it"

chocolate chip cookie; "did you just call me pretty boy"

croissant; "don't you dare"

elcairs; "don't, leave them on"

chocolate mousse; "i'm sorry"

boston cream pie; "fuck it's dripping down your legs"

and to drink;

coffee; somnophilia kink

tea; semi public

juice; breeding kink

mocha; daddy kink

peppermint tea; mommy kink

vodka shot; rough sex

sparkling water; gentle sex

oat milk; one night stand

soy milk; friends with benefits

coconut milk; friends to lovers

almond milk; grumpy x sunshine

energy drink; doggy style

turmeric latte; fake dating

cold brew; possessive

espresso shot; dirty talking

chamomile tea; choking kink

glass of water; aftercare

herbal tea; soft but only for you

milkshake; size kink

pina colada; pregnancy

matcha latte; mixed with smau

cider; body worship

mai tai; loss of virginity

margarita; unprotected sex

chai; biting or hickeys [please let me know which]

earl grey; big cock

tonic water; age gap

soda; protected sex

root beer; caught in the act

americano; oral sex

whiskey; degrading language

vitamin water; dom/sub dynamics

irish coffee; drunk sex

lemon water; secret relationship

dark roast; sub character

hot chocolate; sub reader

iced tea; accentally leaking relationship

flat white; brothers best friend

iced latte; best friends brother

iced mocha latte; plus sized reader

smoothie; belly bulge

doppio coffee; wall sex

green tea; spiting kink

cortado; belly kisses

affogato; a bet

lemon ginger tea; single mom/dad

berry smoothie; accidental pregnancy

sunshine smoothies; fake dating

cappuccino; secret baby

rice milk; baby fever

cashew milk; somebody flirts with your bf/gf

iced chai; forehead kisses

[buggybambi]

yours, cb. | carmen berzatto

summary: carmen writes a letter to you the day before he proposes, reflecting on your relationship.

wc: 1.02k | navigation post

rating: fluff, none! content warnings: none! if any need to be added lmk but as far as i know there are none:-)

“The first time I met you, I was so damn nervous. Richie told me you were back in town and I thought I was convinced that my first time meeting you, I’d screw it up somehow. Jumble all my words, forget my name. I almost did the first time I saw you. That night in the restaraunt with the only light on being one over a table by the fogged up windows. You still look so pretty under that light, you look pretty under anything. Richie told me, ‘she’s sweet’. Sweet doesn’t begin to describe you, angel. My angel.”

"Everything about you was.. so enchanting. I thought you were the prettiest girl I'd ever met. I never thought people could geniuenly fall in love at first sight, but with you, I realize what they're talking about when they say they laid eyes on their partner and they knew. From the moment I saw you I knew you were meant to be mine. And I yours."

You sat in your shared bedroom, your laptop in your lap as you scrolled through the numerous recipes Sydney had sent to you to review for the menu, since apparently you were hired as taste-tester. "What the hell is that?" You murmur to yourself as you stare at one of the dishes.

The front door opens and then swiftly closes, as you can hear footsteps approaching. You close your laptop just as Carmen appears a second later, practically jumping into your arms, laying his head on your chest. "Hi, bear. You okay?" You ask.

He lets out a soft "mm" as you begin running your hand through disheveled curls. "Just thought about you all day. Wanted to be here. That okay?" He checks, lifting his hand. You place a kiss on his head. "Carm, anytime you need, I'm here."

There's that grin again. There's that spike in his heartbeat when he looks at you, when he talks to you. The way he can feel himself falling deeper into love with you, no matter how long you've been together. There's a comfort in that, almost.

───

"The first time I kissed you, you may not have realized this (or you did any you're just too sweet not to say anything which totally sounds like you, babe) but I think my hands would have won an award for being the sweatiest palms, ever. You know when people say they feel fireworks when they kiss the person they love? I always thought they were being dramatic because until you, I hadn't felt that. But now I know what exactly they mean."

When Carmen wakes up and he realizes that you aren't there, he frowns. His favorite thing to do in the mornings when he wakes up before you do - which happens often - is to kiss you on the cheek and snuggle you for a few minutes before he has to pull himself away.

It isn't until he hears you humming down the hallway making your way back in that he smiles, sitting up to greet you. You come in, two mugs of coffee in hand. "Oh, hey, you're awake." You say, setting the mug down on his nightstand, kissing him before slipping back into your side of the bed, setting your coffee down.

Your phone buzzes in between you both, causing you to look down as your lock screen lights up with texts from Nat. "Am I your lockscreen?" He asks, recognizing the photo in the back. You smile at him, nodding. "Of course you are. You're my favorite person, Carm, why wouldn't you be?"

"And then our first date. The night I almost burned my apartment down because I was staring at you while the food cooked. How is it possible since that day you've gotten prettier? Well, I know the answer, it's because naturally you're gorgeous anyway. But each time I stare at you, it takes me back to that night in my apartment. Our apartment, we just had no idea it would become that then."

He kissed you right then, making you forget about Nat blowing up your phone. "You're my favorite person, too." He whispers against your lips as you smile, kissing him again.

───

"It's weird to think about, you know? How I'm going to propose to you tomorrow, and I'm writing this on old notebook paper, and you have no clue. Maybe it's silly of me to be writing this, it'll probably be some forgotten piece of paper. Or I'll read this to our future kids, if we ever have any, and tell them what I thought of their mom the first time I saw her: I was starstruck."

He looks over at you where you sleep, your arms wrapped around his torso where he sits up. He tries to keep still as he writes, not moving too much. He leans down, placing a kiss on the crown of your head.

"I can't wait to ask you to marry me tomorrow. To tell you everything I need to tell you, to ask you to be mine forever until death do us part. Mikey once learned Irish wedding vows (because of course he did), and I think it says what I can't. May you never steal, lie or cheat. But if you must steal, then steal away my sorrows. And if you must lie, lie with me all the nights of my life. And if you must cheat, then please cheat death, because I couldn't live a day without you."

His mind races with every memory he's shared with you. Looking around the bedroom you two share and have had so many laughs, tears and more in. The idea that he - a boy from Chicago with family issues who thinks he's an unlovable psycho - gets to marry you? Share a life with you, and maybe get to be the father of your children?

You're the one for him.

And for the rest of your lives, he doesn't know what he wants to be. But as for as long as you'd have him, he has an idea of what he wants to be.

"Yours, CB."

˙ ✩°˖🌸 ⋆｡˚꩜

thank you for reading! please feel free to engage with this post by reblogging, commenting or sliding into my inbox to leave feedback! i appreciate all of you! check out my nav post here for more fanfics!

- mae:)

˚˖𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒✧˚.🎀༘⋆

mae’s loves:

@wabi-sabi1090

@harrysmatcha

@kpopgirlbtssvt

@urdreamgirl12

@readingwithsass

@angelicflower2020

@wadupppp

to join my taglist please reply to this post asking to be added! <3

[emberfrostlovesloki]

11:11 [Emily x Reader]

Photo Credits: Left (@cheekycatlady) Center (@lockscreens-n-shit) Right (@@viciousclothing)

Prompt: Penelope and Derek play matchmaker after Emily meets the captivating and alternative reader who’s allegedly off the market at a shop where Prentiss is buying a gift for Garcia. A few weeks later, Emily and the reader have the chance to have what they’ve dreamed of for so long, a relationship, but will their differences and fears be too much to overcome? 

Pairing: Emily x Non-BAU!Reader, Fem!Reader, Alnterative-Goth!Reader. The reader uses she/her pronouns 

Category: Fluff/comfort

Word Count: 8.9K 

Content Warnings: Language, unwanted attention (reader and Emily), if I missed any, please let me know. 

A/N: Hi all! I hope you are all doing very well! This fic is for the amazing @imagining-in-the-margins’s Pride Writing Challenge! I used the dialog prompt “Are they… flirting?” “Big time.” This fic is a lot more fluffy than my usual stuff, but it was nice to just write something romantic for Emily. The reader is described as a goth and a fan of horror, but if those are not your aesthetics, you can swap those parts out for what you like. I do mention a horror film scholar, but I try to explain her ideas accurately. Emily is a gem of a character and I hope I captured her well in this fic. Please be kind to yourselves this week and do something you love, you are so special. If you enjoy this fic, likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! Love Levi - ❤️

List with all stories 

y/n = your name 

y/c = your complexion 

y/f/d = your favorite drink (alcoholic, non-alcoholic, soda, you decide) 

Emily pulled into the small strip mall a thirty-minute drive from her house. It wasn’t what she’d expected exactly. It seemed… boring. Em sighed and thought, ‘Aren’t all strip malls boring? This is a strip mall, not a strip club, and you're here for Penelope, not you.’ With a hint of a smile, Prentiss got out of her car and pulled her purse and iced coffee from the front seat cup holder. She yawned and put her glasses on as the mid-afternoon sun glared down on her. She had stayed up late from another mid-date last night, thus the tiredness. It hadn’t been bad per se, just boring. After talking about shared interests, the man she’d seen started talking about his exes and how Emily reminded him of each of them. The only good thing about the man was that he’d taken them to a nice bar and promised to pay the tab. So Emily had gone overboard with her drinks. When she’d gotten a glass of the nicest champagne on the menu, she realized she could just sit and listen to this man ramble on and call it performance art the next day. However, even the Advil she’d popped last night after she’d gotten home hadn’t cured her hangover. 

The little bell on the door rang as Emily entered the store. It took a second for her to put down her coffee on a small table by the door with some pamphlets encouraging a yarn crawl next month and remove her sunglasses to see the inside of the store properly. Prentiss was here to get Penelope a small gift after she’d admitted to feeling down after a rough case. It seemed Garcia’s girlhood hobby of crochet had come back to life after she’d seen a cute sweater online, so Em was going to get her some good quality supplies, or at least a gift card if she couldn’t pick out what felt right in the store. The fiber arts weren’t really her thing, and as she saw the front display, pastel rainbows of yarn skeins, and a sample shawl to celebrate Pride Month along with a variety of needles and hooks on the adjacent wall, she felt lost. More lost than if she was at a crime scene. 

The soft, “Can I help you find something?” had Prentiss whip around on her heel and see the woman she hadn’t noticed as she walked into the store. Em blamed her hangover, but couldn’t say the same for when she opened and closed her mouth once or twice as she took in the employee behind the counter. Perhaps Emily had expected a little old lady or a mom type to work at a place like this, but she hadn’t expected a young woman standing in all black and what could only be described as vampiric-looking makeup and accessories. The words, whatever she was trying to say or might have said to this type of person escaped her. 

The woman behind the counter seemed to flush, but it was hard to tell with her dark blush, given her y/c and intentionally washed-out tired look. It was the type of look Spencer had unintentionally. The employee looked behind the counter to get the pretty woman’s eyes off of her for a moment. y/n hadn’t expected to be visually dissected this afternoon. She wondered if she had something in her teeth and how embarrassing that would be in front of someone as pretty as the statuesque woman on the other side of the counter. 

Emily finally recovered and coughed slightly, now her blush of embarrassment flooded her cheeks as she said, “I’m sorry. I suppose I didn’t see you there when I walked in. I haven’t been to a place like this before. I’m trying to get some things for my friend. She’s into crocheting I think. I googled yarn stores in town and apart from the big craft store this is the only one that came up…” Em stopped talking when she realized that she was rambling and the woman moved from behind the counter letting out a chuckle. It looked strange on someone who dressed so severely. y/n said, “Well, welcome in. I can show you around and make some recommendations if you’d like. Does your friend have a favorite color? Do you know if she wants to make something in particular?” Emily let out a sigh, relieved that her behavior and lack of knowledge weren’t mocked. She guessed that there wasn’t a ton of gatekeeping in the crochet community, but she didn’t know. Em swallowed and said, “Well my friend loves pink or any bright colors. As for her projects, I only know she likes working with bigger threads. She says it makes the projects go faster?” 

y/n nodded. This poor, but beautiful woman was out of her depth here. However, y/n never judged. Knitting and crocheting wasn’t everyone’s cup of tea. Often people just thought it was for the geriatric, though that was far from the truth. y/n had to correct the woman, she couldn’t stop herself as she said, “Yarn.” The customer looked up and said, “Huh?” softly, and y/n felt herself heating up again as she said, “It’s yarn, not thread. Sorry I can’t stop myself from correcting people when they say that. I’m, y/n. What’s your name?” y/n didn’t mean to sound condescending as she corrected the woman, it just slipped out. She tried to recover herself by asking the woman’s name; she was striking. 

Thankfully, after a split second, Emily extended her hand and said, “Emily. I’m Emily. It’s nice to meet you y/n, and don’t apologize. I’m sure I sound like an idiot, so correct me as much as you need or feel like it. I won’t be offended.” y/n smiled and shook Em’s hand twice already enjoying her sense of humor. Emily couldn’t help but look at y/n’s long dark nails that matched her clear glossed, blood colored lips. y/n let Emily’s hand go and pointed toward the back right side of the store and said, “I think this side of the store is what you’ll be looking for. It’s our DK and bulky weight yarn section.” Em nodded like she understood what that meant and followed behind y/n looking at all the pretty skeins and knit and crochet samples on display. Even though Prentiss never thought this would be her niche, it was a very calming and pretty environment. It helped that the playlist that was on in the background had already played music she liked. Emily looked back for a moment at the comfy-looking chairs by the window and could picture herself sitting there for a few hours. 

Emily came back to the moment and realized she was getting distracted. She was firmly in the right section now as the yarn on the shelves looked like Penelope would love them. There was hot pink, yellow, and some purple yarn with sequins already threaded in the yarn. Emiy’s eyes looked around and y/n said, “I’ll let you look around for a bit. The yarn on the middle shelf is our most popular, but if you’re looking for something that’s a bit more affordable, because this stuff can get expensive pretty fast, is on the left and it’s still good quality too.” Emily nodded. She hadn’t even looked at a price tag yet. Money hadn’t crossed her mind. She had been too busy looking at the pretty colors, chairs, and sales assistant. y/n brushed past Em and back up toward the counter and said over her shoulder, “Hollar if you have any questions or if you need anything.” Prentiss turned her head and said, “Thanks,” as she watched y/n move back toward the front counter, her high-top Doc Martens giving her an inch in height that she didn’t have naturally.  

Em tore her eyes away once y/n was just out of sight. It wasn’t a big store, but the shelves that housed the yarn made it impossible for her to see y/n. Emily now turned to the skeins of yarn and picked up the hot pink skein that had first caught her eye. y/n’s comment about price made her look at the price tag, and Prentiss whistled under her breath. ‘$35.00 for some yarn?’ she thought. ‘What are they doing hand-picking sheep and making them eat strawberries until they turn pink?’ That sarcastic line of thinking did take her to the real conclusion, however, that unless yarn was cheap and mass-manufactured in a store, it must take a lot of time and effort to get that kind of color and quality. With the prices in mind now, Emily picked between five yarn colors that looked like Garcia’s favorites and picked her top three from the bunch. She decided on the hot pink, the purple sequined yarn, and a lime green tucked in the corner of a shelf. Happy with her choices, Emily moved around the store to look at the rest of what was there. As was natural for Prentiss, she was drawn to the jewel tones and more delicate yarn. The deep and rich colors reminded her of fall, her favorite sweaters, and hot lattes. She let out a sigh of longing for it to be cool again. For a second she felt eyes on the back of her neck, and she turned her face up sharply to see y/n just move her head toward the front door as if she was expecting someone to walk in. Emily turned her head again and bit the inside of her mouth. Why was y/n so cool? She tried to pinpoint why the woman at the front was having such an effect on her. 

She attributed it to three things. The first was the attitude. y/n had a very nonchalant attitude -- one that said that anything could happen and she wouldn’t be phased. Secondly, there was the confidence to wear what she wanted. Not that Emily had a choice, she was forced into the confines of business casual, but even if she wasn’t, she wasn’t sure she’d have the confidence to wear what y/n was. Lastly, y/n just seemed to be a really good person. It was based only on a feeling, but being an FBI profiler did have its advantages like getting a good reading on people. Prentiss let out a sigh, she was being silly and she knew it. She took one last look at some of the items displaying what the yarn could make and do before she moved to the counter. y/n smiled at Em and said, “Those are some pretty colors, I bet your friend will love them!” Prentiss nodded and said, “I’m sure she will. I’m happy I know about this place now, this could be good for gifts for some people I know.” Emily paused before asking, “Do you own the shop.” y/n chuckled and nodded her head no replying, “No. I just work here part time. I kind of grew up here though. It’s very special to me.” Em could tell. She wanted to ask more, but it would be awkward, so she didn’t. 

y/n sensed the shift in conversation and said, “Alright, well do you want these wound into cakes, or do you want to keep them in skeins?” The look of incredulity on Emily’s face had y/n laugh, pick up the pink yarn, and say, “So see how this is twisted into something that’s easy to hold?” Prentiss nodded yes, not having even thought about that. y/n continued, “So in order to work with this yarn, you have to unwind and rewind it into a ball, or you can use a machine to create what’s called a yarn cake. It’s easier to work with, but you, or your friend, can to this at home too.” Emily bit the side of her mouth and couldn’t think about what Garcia would want. She went on the safe side and said, “I think I’ll just take them as they are for now. If she brings them back would you still wind them for her?” y/n replied, “Yes, of course. I’d be happy to. She or you can come in anytime.” Prentiss looked up at y/n a bit surprised by the woman’s tone, and y/n winked at her. Again, Emily found herself a bit speechless and y/n continued like nothing had happened, “Okay, can I get anything else for you? Some hooks of needles, or is it just the yarn today?” 

Emily recovered just a bit out of breath, and said, “Um, that’s it. Thanks. You helped me a lot.” y/n smiled and said, “I’m happy to help. It is literally my job, as much as I’d like to just sit here and knit or read, life seems to have other plans.” There was a pause, like y/n was thinking about something and continued putting the yarn in a plastic bag before saying, “Because it’s your first time here I’m going to give you some free stitch markers and a crochet hook size gauge.” Emily nodded her appriciation. She could guess what the stitch markers were for, as for the guage device, she didn’t, but she was sure that Penelope would. Em took a closer look at y/n who was looking at the screen to ring up her total. The shape of y/n’s face and lips were alluring. Her dark eye shadow and long lashes fluttered open and closed as she concentrated. y/n caught Emily looking for a split second but looked back at the computer, a ghost of a smile on the edges of her lips. The small interactions between the two of them sent a thrill through Em. When y/n had given Prentiss her total, she handed over her card and in a moment, they were done. y/n handed Emily her bag and said, “Thanks for stopping in. I hope I see you again soon.” Prentiss nodded, moved toward the door, and said, “Thanks. Me too, y/n.” With that, Emily left the small shop and walked back into the sun. Prentiss made it to her car and sat down, putting her sunglasses back on. As she turned the key in the ignition, in the very back recesses of her mind, she hoped she’d see y/n again tonight in her dreams. Em heaved a sigh and decided she’d grab a smoothie or a juice on the way home, her hangover long forgotten. 

Penelope was thrilled when she opened her impromptu gift from Emily the next week. Garcia’s smiles, thanks, and hugs would make anyone feel good, Em believed. This was helpful to Em as she felt the loneliness of life creeping back into her bones. She really wasn’t one to believe in biological determinism, but the more old friends and co-workers from school that started getting married, or more likely, having babies, the harder it was to come home alone all the time. Alone to an empty apartment, and an even emptier bed. She sighed into Penny’s hug, hoping the feelings would stick for a while. It’s not that she was desperate for attention, or heaven forbid a child, but she wanted someone to be with, to share her bad jokes with, or rest her head on. Of course, Emily knew she could do this, life, by herself, she just didn’t want to. Emily pulled back as Garcia asked, “Where did you get these, there’re so beautiful. I want to get like twenty more skeins. God the color saturation is perfect, p e r f e c t, Em. you know me so well.” Emily smiled and said, “It’s this small shop on my side of town. I was shocked that you hadn’t been there before.” Pen sighed and said, “Well to be honest I have a huge yarn stash already, so I decided to just try and use up what I had a home, but now that you’ve gotten me this stuff, I have an excuse to go and get enough new yarn in the same colors so make a sweater.” Prentiss chuckled at her ability to influence Penelope’s financial choices, but it was all in good fun. 

That good fun had Prentiss and Morgan in Garcia’s car two weeks later moving from brunch toward the yarn store. Prentiss’s thoughts flashed to y/n, and she wondered if the pretty woman would be working today. She hadn’t expected to be back to the store this shortly, but the idea of a space to just relax and be from her first time at the shop flashed in her mind, and of course, if y/n was there, it would be nice to see her again too. Emily was sure Penelope would take Derek around the shop for a good hour, much to Morgan’s faux chagrin at his ‘time being wasted.’ 

The trio arrived at the yarn store, Love and Needles, and Morgan made a quip about the kind of love the patrons got. He, as Em could tell, had very much made the assumption she had about knitting as a hobby before she’d gone into the store and seen y/n. That the clients were old. Emily was please when she stepped in to see y/n sitting at the desk. Penelope had already started a lively conversation with her and Derek was standing back a few steps his mouth open in shock. 

y/n looked past Garcia at Morgan and gave him a small smile, showing a flash of her teeth which had the strong agent close his mouth quickly and stand up straighter. This made Emily duck her head as she felt the heat rise in her cheeks. She raised her head when y/n said, “It’s nice to see you again, Em,” with a small wave of her hand. Derek’s eyes danced between Emily and y/n and he tried to hide a small cough but didn’t do it well. Prentiss elbowed him in the ribs, and he stopped making noise. Emily rolled her eyes and Penelope retook over the conversation they had started and said to y/n, “Well I’ll come back and harass you about those shoes in about an hour. For now, I’m going to oooh and aaah at yarn, and probably spend my whole paycheck too.” Garcia took a split second to look at Emily and the blush that was still painting her face read and took Derek by the hand and said, “You, Mr. Morgan, with me. Maybe one day you’ll date a knitter, and you can impress her with your knowledge of the fiber arts.” Derek raised his hands in surrender and let Pen lead him farther into the store.

Emily looked after her friends, not sure to follow, stay planted, or maybe test out those comfy-looking couches by the window. She was pulled from her thoughts as y/n said, “So, how have you been? I think your friends are keen by the way. I wish I had some like that.” Em let out a small breath and replied, “Yeah, In terms of how friends go, they’re about the best you could ask for.” Prentiss cocked her head to the side, wondering why, and how it was possible for someone as magnetic as y/n to not make friends. Emily remembered the first half of y/n’s conversation starter and said, “And I’ve been okay. Nothing too exciting. Paperwork, paperwork, paperwork, and a few bad dates. How about you?” 

y/n gave off the vibe that she went to raves or drank red wine in a speak easy. y/n moved from behind the counter and leaned on the opposite side of where she’d just been. y/n studied Prentiss for a moment, taking in her outfit which consisted of a white shirt, corduroy pants, and a small kitten heel. It didn’t match y/n’s heavy-looking platform shoes, black tights, and dress. y/n was wearing the same makeup as the first time Em had seen her, except maybe the lips were darker today. After a moment y/n replied, “I’ve been fine. Nothing major to report.” There was another pause before y/n continued, “Maybe you could get off the apps for a bit? I found when I decided to take a hiatus it gave me some peace of mind. I had no hypothetical woman to please. I could just be me for once without any expectations.” y/n sighed and pivoted the conversation back to Emily, self-conscious to be talking about her struggles in front of someone as pretty as the tall brunette. Instead, she said, “I suppose I didn’t see you working a corporate job. I think I’d die if I had to do paperwork all the time.” Prentiss wanted to correct y/n, that she was more interesting than a corporate job. That she was a profiler in the FBI, that she knew how to shoot a gun, and spoke five languages. 

But Em stopped herself, even if y/n was on the dating market, which she had just said she’d taken herself out of, and even if she did date women, Emily could see herself pulling at strings. That her heart was moving faster than her head, and if she didn’t slow it down, she’d make a real fool of herself. She’d done that one too many times this year, losing both her sense of discretion and judgment sleeping with men most or women who gave the short time of day to fuck. They’d be gone by the morning, or she would be. Not wanting commitment, but not wanting to be alone either. It was the aloneness that she blamed the most for her choices, and she wasn’t going to repeat that now. So Emily replied, “Well it’s kind of a corporate job if you count working for the government as corporate.” y/n let out a low whistle and said, “That’s the most corporate of corporate. I don’t envy you.” There was a pause and y/n said slowly, “So, do you have any secrets you can share?” As hard as Emily tried to keep her mind off of y/n that way, she couldn’t stop herself from blushing again at how her statement could be interpreted provocatively. Just as Em was about to answer the question, the phone behind the counter rang and y/n moved to answer it. Emily could tell the way y/n was speaking, loudly and slowly, that it was an elderly client, and the conversation might take a long time, so she moved to the couches to sit down. 

Unknown to Emily and y/n, Penelope and Derek had been looking and listening to the pair for a few minutes now. When the phone call had interrupted their conversation Garcia motioned for Morgan to follow her to the far corner of the store. Once they were out of sight and earshot, Derek leaned down and whispered to Penelope, “Are they… flirting?” Pen nodded in an exaggerated manner and whispered back, “Big time.” They both leaned over to look past the displays of yarn to peak at y/n and Em and then hid again like teenagers behind a locker. Garcia said, “They aren’t even talking and you tell they're flirting. What type of Timewarp have we gotten ourselves into where Emily is openly making eyes at someone?” Derek sighed and rolled his eyes responding, “One where she probably doesn’t ever make a move. You know Em, she’s as stubborn as an ox if she wants to be.” Garcia dropped her eyes to the ground and said softly, “Yeah. It’s fun to imagine though.” Morgan nodded and replied, “Well, if it seems okay, maybe we can pull some strings? Nothing huge, but they could be friends at least. They seem to get along well, but I doubt they’d run into each other in other circles, so we might have to nudge them in the right direction?” Penelope feigned being shocked and said, “Mon Cheri, are you suggesting a blind date?” Morgan held up his hands and said, “Well not that drastic, but it Emily seems okay with a chance meeting then I don’t see how it can hurt.” Garcia faked a pout and said, “You’re no fun.” 

After another moment of snickering from the duo of friends, Morgan and Garcia moved back to the front of the store and like they’ve known each other for years, Penelope chatted with y/n sharing the best shoe, accessory, and makeup brands. Meanwhile, Derek moved to sit next to Emily. She smiled at him and asked, “So, are you ready to woo a woman with your knowledge of crochet?” Morgan smiled and said, “I’ve already done that. My mom crochets, so I at least know the difference between crochet and knitting, and that weaving in the ends is the worst part of a project which is more than most men I know.” Emily gave him a small smile and replied, “Morgan, you really are a lady's man.” Derek chuckled and gave a little salute of appreciation. 

After a few more minutes, the trio left the shop and it didn’t pass up Morgan or Garcia that after y/n had said goodbye to them, she said specifically to Em, “It was good to see you again, Em. I hope to catch you around sometime.” Everyone piled into Pen’s car with Emily taking the passenger seat while Derek smushed himself in the back. Once everyone was safely buckled up, they moved toward Morgan’s apartment first. As they sat and the Spotify played Garcia’s favorite playlist, Derek teased Emily by saying, “I didn’t know you went for the Abby from NCIS characters, Prentiss.” Em twisted in her seat and said, “Morgan give me a break. Even  you thought she was hot and you can’t deny it.” Derek let out one of his low laughs that reverberated though his chest. The kind that could make anyone laugh if they were having a bad day. Em loosened up as Derek replied, “I’m not denying it. She was hot. I just didn’t realize she was your type.” 

Emily sat back in her seat and closed her eyes as she said, “Neither did I.” She meant it to sound like a funny retort or quip, but in reality, there was a longing that neither Penelope nor Derek had heard from her before. Everyone remained quiet and just let the radio play until Penelope pulled up to Derek’s house. He hopped out of the car, then hugged Garcia though the driver’s side window, and then moved to Emily’s side and said, “Keep your chin up Em. You’re a real catch.” Prentiss thanked him; she knew she wasn’t teasing, or being facetious. When Morgan was real, he was real and that was why he was such a good friend. He was never afraid to be honest with his emotions which was a rarity in men. Derek waved at his friends and then moved into his house after calling out, “See you on Monday!”  

Once Derek was at this door, Garcia pulled away from the sidewalk and toward Emily’s apartment. There was a silence for a while before Penelope turned to Em and asked, “You doing okay? You know Morgan and I don’t mean anything cruel when we ask you about the people you like. You just hardly show interest anymore, and you used to be so excited to be going on dates, or when you found someone attractive.” Prentiss sighed and said, “Because I used to be excited about those things, Pen. I used to love the thrill of a first date, or seeing someone hot on the street, but I’ve tried so much and I just don’t seem to be anyone’s someone. I’m too bitter, or busy, or gay. I’ve been fetishized for being bi and shamed for having dated men. I just, feel like I’ve lost that spark, that rush that I used to get. To be honest, I gave myself away so much this year, that I think I need a break, and besides that, I don’t know if I’m y/n’s cup of tea either. She’s alternative, and that makes her stand out, I do think it’s very attractive, but I don’t want to fetishize that part of her either. I don’t want to put her in a stressful positon. She told me she’d taken herself off the dating market today at the store, so asking her out seems like pressing her boundaries, even if it is fun to have her wink at me.” Emily ran her hands through her hair in frustration and said, “I mean listen to me. I sound like a high school cheerleader trying to date the budding artist. It just sounds silly.” 

Penelope looked over at her friend and said, “Yeah, well it might feel and sound silly, but your feelings still matter. You feeling lonely and wanting someone to be with still hurts. I know that as well as anyone, even if I’m good at hiding it with all my sparkle and banter with Morgan.” Emily nodded and looked at Penelope. As opposite as they were in demeanor, they both shared the deep long for belonging somewhere. They just hid that want in different ways. Em let a small smile cross her lips as she wiped away a tear from the corner of her eye before Penny could see, and she replied, “Thanks, Garcia. Thanks for being my friend and making me laugh. I don’t deserve you.” Pen let out a bright laugh and said, “You’ll never get rid of me girlfriend. And don’t give up hope. Things change, everything changes with time.” The rest of the ride was mostly quiet as both women thought about their feelings and shared in the mutual pain that most women felt at some point in their lives. When Garica pulled up to Emily’s house, the tall agent leaned over and hugged the Technical Analyst, holding her tight, then she pulled back and said, “Listen Pen, if I start adopting cats, promise you’ll still hang out with me?” Garcia smiled and said, “Darling, I’m already giving them a name.” With that, Emily got out of the car and went inside. She turned on her record player and poured a glass of wine. She’d just bought a new book and decided to relax and read for the rest of the day. 

It was a month later, and Penelope and y/n had started spending more time together. Like most people, y/n liked the brightness that Garcia brought to a friendship, and how real she was. It was safe to say that y/n was shocked when she found out what Emily and Derek did for work. As she and Garcia walked around an outdoor mall, boba in hand, y/n said, “Wait, Em’s in the FBI? You’re in the FBI! She told me she worked for the government. I thought she meant like the IRA or something.” Penelope nearly choked on her drink as y/n said this. After coughing a few times Penelope responded, “No wonder she doesn’t get close to anyone. She’s lying by omission about how awesome she is.” y/n gave Pen a pat on the back and they kept walking. y/n started asking more questions about the team. After more window shopping and trying things on, Penelope said, “I should tell Emily to be more honest. Really.” y/n stopped in her tracks and said quickly, “Please don’t. At least don’t say I was part of it.” Garcia stopped and looked up at y/n. y/n had the corner of her dark lip inside her mouth and was wearing a face of concern. It was the first time Penelope had seen her like this. The fluorescent lights of the store made her look more ghostly than ever, her darker tones striking against her makeup and dark hair. The shine on her black shoes glistened. Although Penelope wasn’t a profiler, she’d hung around the BAU long enough to know that the quick and urgent tone from y/n meant something more. It hadn’t gone past Pen that y/n seemed to casually bring Agent Prentiss up in conversation. y/n seemed to notice her new friend's change of attitude and said, “I mean, I assume that Em has a reason for not telling me that. Like I don’t want her to think she was holding out on me. I don’t tell everyone everything when I first meet them either. It’s like when douchebags ask me the meaning behind my tattoos in an attempt to get to know me. Am I supposed to tell them my whole life story or just lie and say it’s for aesthetics because honestly, both are true? And yeah, I just don’t want Emily to feel any pressure to explain herself, at least not to me.” y/n flushed. She hated that when she got flustered she used so many qualifying words, ‘but,’ ‘like,’ and ‘and’ flowed out of her mouth like she was sixteen and figuring out her sexuality again. 

Garcia smiled and nodded. Maybe y/n didn’t see it, but y/n was down bad for Emily, and it made Pen’s heart swim. It didn’t hurt that Emily asked every Monday afternoon, when Em made a pitstop at Garcia’s office with a soda to ask if she had seen y/n at all over the weekend. It was funnier because Prentiss was much worse at hiding her crush than y/n. It was still another week before y/n texted Garcia: Is Emily seeing anyone right now? Does she like… you know… women?” Penelope let out a squeal and moved to find Derek and share the news that y/n was asking about Prentiss. Even if Morgan had kept a further distance from Garcia’s matchmaking, he loved the drama of it. The pair spitballed responses, and they finally settled on, “No, she’s currently not seeing anyone. And yes. Solid yes.” They both waited giddily for another response from y/n. It wasn’t until the end of the day that y/n said, “I want to hang out with her, but I’ve only met her twice and I don’t know a lot about her. She doesn’t have much on social media. What are some things she’s into? Music? Movies? Food?” Penelope chuckled and sent a few options: “Books, Queer Films, Lectures, Good Wine and cheese.” y/n shot back a thank you and then asked if she could steal Emily’s number from Penelope, promising that she really wasn’t a stalker or serial killer in disguise. Garcia happily replied with Prentiss’s number. 

It took y/n a week of research and building herself up before she found something that she thought she and Emily would enjoy. A local college was hosting Carol Clover, author of Men, Women, and Chainsaws to give a talk about her famous construct of the Final Girl. This would meet Emily’s love of queer film and academia and give y/n a chance to hear about the horror genre, which she enjoyed. Then there was the fear of actually texting Emily. The FBI agent had seemed so kind, and yet at the same time intimidating. Surely she couldn’t like someone as non-tradition as her? Not when she got dirty looks in public, frowning parents shielding their child's eyes from her body. Was it so profane to want to be yourself? Pushing her doubts aside y/n texted Emily saying that she had gotten her number from Garcia and that she was interested in going to a lecture next weekend and if Em would be interested in joining her. 

When Penelope heard a knock on her doorframe, she looked up to see Emily holding her phone up. Before Garcia could read what was on the screen, Prentiss said, “Pen, did you give y/n my number?” Penelope nodded and said, “Yeah, did she text you?” Em seemed to relax and say, “Yeah. I think she’s asking me out, maybe? Or maybe I’m just reading into it? She said she was on a dating break the last time I saw her, which was like last month. I kind of assumed she might have forgotten about me. I don’t know why she’d be interested in someone as boring as me?” Garcia could see the doubt in Emily’s face. The want for it to be more than just hanging out. That feeling that she and Derek could feel in the yarn shop. Em was questioning that. Even if Penelope had a good idea that y/n liked, liked her friend, she didn’t want to set her up with false hope. So with a steadying breath, Garcia said, “Em. I don’t know y/n that well. We’re not at telepathy levels of friendship yet, but I will say I don’t think she’s asking you to hangout for nothing. Like I said, things change and you won’t know if she’s trying to get to know you that way unless you go and find out. Or, you could be a stick in the mud and just tell her no, which would send a pretty clear signal from your end.” Em sighed and knew that Garcia was saying if she wanted clarity, then she needed to be clear. To take a risk. However, the hesitation was still there. To be let down again would be so hard. So painful. But not knowing, that would kill her more. If she missed someone as charismatic as y/n, then she would have really missed, so she gave herself the day to make a choice, be a coward, or give it one last chance. That’s what Emily said to Pen, and frustratingly, Penelope didn’t think that she was going to hear more about it until much later that evening when y/n texted her: She said YES! It was safe to say that both y/n and Penny spent the next hour freaking out over the news. 

Emily looked around the lecture hall. It was big and fancy, and already filling with people. Prentiss had struggled to find parking and ended up having to go into a parking garage across the street. y/n had already texted her that she was inside and had saved them seats. Em looked at the quickly filling seats. There was an odd mixture of people assembled in the modern and sleek room. There were film bros, students, and more none-descript people milling around and looking for a spot to sit. Emily let out a relieved sigh that she hadn’t over, or underdressed. She had opted for a maroon shirt and a knee-length skirt with nude tights on underneath. Unlike the last two times, Emily was wearing heals. They were black and elongated her legs. She wasn’t trying to send any strong signals that she was more than excited that y/n had reached out. Prentiss was starting to get worried because she hadn’t seen y/n yet. Em’s past fears of being stood up creeping back in her. She clutched her purse strap fiddling with the zipper. Finally, a larger man moved into the aisle, and Emily caught sight of y/n. y/n was looking around for Emily as well with a nervous glance. When their eyes met, y/n’s face brightened and she smiled and waved. Prentiss let out a breath and moved toward y/n. 

y/n had felt the same anxiety Emily had. She’d dressed down a little. She didn’t want her style to stick out like a sore thumb. She’d opted for black mary-janes and tights along with some shorts, a black turtle neck that was too hot for the weather, her toned-down makeup with a blood-red lip, and lots of silver jewelry. She hoped it wasn’t too much. y/n was less worried about her appearance as she beamed at Em. She was glorious as normal. y/n might have dressed in an intimidating way, but Emily was the one with the confidence. The one that could move through a crowd seamlessly. The power she held with just her presence. y/n thought for a moment about Emily’s job. About what she did every day to keep people safe. y/n still hadn’t told Em that she knew about her real work, but y/n expected Emily would have figured out she knew by now. And if she didn’t, then she’d let Em bring it up on her own time. For now, y/n extended her arms slightly at her sides and she and Prentiss hugged lightly. y/n breathed in Emily’s scent for the first time, floral and bright. y/n pulled back and said, “Thanks for coming.” y/n wanted to ask how her day was, and if anything interesting had happened since they’d last laid eyes on each other. And maybe why did you agree to come out with me? But all of that was made impossible by the host of the lecture tapping on the mic and the lights being lowered in the hall. Em and y/n quieted, as did the rest of the audience and everyone took a set. 

y/n was excited for the lecture, she loved horror, so getting to spend this time sitting next to Emily had the blood rush in her ears and her heart beating in her chest, even though she wasn’t sure if Em liked her like that. There was a clear energy between the two women seated near the back left of the room, like an electric current passing between them. Both Em and y/n listened with rapt attention. Emily perhaps a bit more at y/n than Clover. She loved to see y/n, so excited and happy. Plus the content was interesting even if she didn’t understand all of it. Every so often Prentiss would lean down and ask y/n a clarifying question which y/n happily answered in a whisper. There was one moment in the lecture where Clover mentioned the other characters in horror films apart from the Final Girl, the ones that die, stating, “The Final girl is chaste and tom-boyish. But the first victims are often popular or outcasts. The loner, the cheerleader having sex with the football player. And unfortunately, the queer characters. Remember, this was the 80s and even if the trope of ‘bury your gays’ hadn’t been coined yet, it was still heavily used.” At hearing this, y/n couldn’t help herself but lean over to Emily and whisper, “Wait, is this fucking play about us?” Emily almost choked trying to hold in her laughter, and y/n had to pat her on the back to help her calm down. Em was beet red at the comment and her reaction, and they both got a tut-tut from the people sitting next to them. y/n smiled and didn’t make any more comments, however, she did move her right hand out on her leg turning her hand palm up, and when Emily took it in her own, she was filled with a warmth that no turtle neck or sweater could give her. 

After the lecturer, y/n and Emily moved to a bar because they hadn’t had any time to talk before hand. Emily drove them there in her car, but it was y/n’s recommendation. As soon as Emily walked into a bar with y/n holding her hand, she knew it was a gay bar. Not that that was a bad thing, in fact, it was comforting. Emily didn’t go out much, and if she did, she hadn’t really thought to go to a place like this. On her dates, she did coffee or dinner, and no one, not even the women she’d seen had recommended a gay bar. So Prentiss drank it in. Not that it was very different from other bars, but there was more space on the floor for dancing, plus the music choices were different. While Emily was looking around, y/n led her to the bar and the bartender said, “Hey, y/n. How’ve you been. I haven’t seen you in months,” over the music. y/n smiled, and in her normal nonchalant manner, she shrugged her shoulders and said, “You know, alright I guess. How about you, Blaine? You holding up?” The man smiled and replied, “Oh, I’m good. It’s good to know you’re well. Now, what will you and your friend be drinking tonight?” y/n turned to Emily and got her order for a cosmo, and she got y/f/d. The cold glasses were ready in a few minutes, and y/n started a tab before heading to a table. 

The surface of the table was slightly sticky, but neither woman cared. They set their drinks on napkins and talked about their days, what they liked, and just life as a woman. As a woman wanting things. y/n looked past Emily for a moment as she said, “Sometimes I think wanting as a woman is a curse. Is there anything I can desire without being shamed, guilted, or ignored?” Emily frowned slightly. They were both two drinks in, and she could feel a slight buzz making her body warm and flushed. Not overthinking it, Em moved her hand across the table and placed it on y/n’s cheek, brushing the pad of her thumb down her jaw. y/n swallowed at the feeling as her stomach did somersaults. Emily watched y/n’s pupils dilate and she said, “You shouldn’t feel ashamed for wanting things. Even if other people make you feel that way.” Em paused and took a breath before saying, “I, I want to spend time with you. I have since the first day that I saw you. And I felt bad for that, and I feel bad because you said you weren’t looking, and I wasn’t honest. And even though I feel bad about that, I still wanted that and I’m not going to beat myself up about it. It’s okay to want. I’ve kept things from you too.” y/n looked at the table and then back up to Emily saying, “I wanted to be with you too. To know who you are. What makes you such a good person, so strong? And it’s okay to keep things hidden. Maybe not forever, but there’s a comfort in that. I understand.” The tone with which y/n said she ‘understood’ told Emily that y/n knew what she’d kept hidden. Her job. It felt silly now, but y/n seemed to get it and would indulge her for now. Em would tell her for sure if they kept seeing each other after tonight, but it was nice to feel so free. 

After a moment, Prentiss asked, “So is there something you want now, y/n?” y/n nodded, suddenly shy, and replied, “How about a dance?” Emily smiled and nodded, extending her hand out for y/n, which she took. The pair moved on to the dance floor which was crowded, but the bodies felt less pressed together than at a normal bar. There just seemed to be less pressure to be so close, instead Em and y/n just let loose and let their inhibitions let them move close to each other. At one point y/n helped Emily do a little twirl which she loved. After Em had straightened from being dipped down, a man tapped her on the shoulder and asked, “Might I cut in?” The fun Emily was having was instantly cut short as she said, “No. You can’t. I’m with someone right now.” Prentiss watched y/n change her face to one of disdain, it looked natural on her, pretty, ethereal even. And y/n leveled that look at the man who had cut off their shared joy. The man didn’t seem intimidated by y/n and he scoffed brushing harshly past Emily he asked y/n, “how about you, Babe? You down for a dance. You look like you need to lighten up. Maybe get laid by a real man?” y/n rolled her eyes, unimpressed and said, “In your dreams, Babe, Now if you don’t mind, you can fuck off.” The man puffed his chest, offended to be rebuffed twice, but y/n didn’t back down with her glare and finally, the man moved away muttering something about ‘stuck up bitches,’ under his breath. 

y/n moved closer to Emily and took her hands in hers, checking in. “Hey, sorry about that. I swear to God I’m like the worst man magnet. Would you check and see if there’s a sign on my back that reads, ‘Lesbian, step right up?’” y/n turned around and Emily let out a laugh, turning y/n around by the shoulders leaning in and kissing her. y/n’s eyes opened in shock, but the warmth and scent of Emily so close to her had her relax and lean into the kiss. It wasn’t super long, but Chappel Roan was playing in the background, and for y/n and Emily it was like all the hurt they’d felt for not being wanted for whatever reason washed away. y/n moved her hands to Emily’s back and preseed herself closer to Em taking in the moment so she could keep it forever in her mind. When y/n and Prentiss pulled away, Emily’s phone went off with a chirp. She flushed and pulled it from her purse. y/n was still close to Prentiss when she pulled out her phone, she stepped back to give Em some privacy. Emily looked up at her and said, “You don’t need to worry. It’s nothing super personal. Just Penelope being nosy and asking how it’s going.” y/n pursed her lips playfully and asked, “And… what are you going to tell her?” Emily shook her head and replied, “Well, I’ll let you know when I have an answer. So far, pretty good” Em was going to say “don’t you think,” but stopped herself when she saw the time. It was 11:11 and she continued speaking, changing her train of thought saying, “Quick y/n, it’s 11:11, make a wish?” 

y/n titled her head to the side and asked, “What?” Emily moved forward took y/n’s hands in hers and said, “close your eyes and make a wish, quick.” y/n did as she was told and closed her eyes. She scrunched her face in concentration as she made a wish. y/n opened her eyes and said, “Well I did it. I haven’t done that since I was a kid.” Em smiled and said, “I’m kind of neurotic about it. Like a superstition. If I see it’s 11:11, I have to make a wish.” y/n nodded and they stood for a moment before Prentiss asked, “So, what did you wish for.” y/n chuckled and replied, “Come on now Em. you know if you say your wish out loud it doesn’t come true.” Prentiss smiled and said, “Well now I’m interested, how about you write it out for me?” y/n felt her chest constrict with excitement and apprehension. Could she? She wanted to, desperately, but it was so fast, too fast for someone like Emily. y/n looked at the woman she’d been brave enough to ask out and it was like she already knew. Em gave her a reassuring nod, and y/n moved back to their table. She pulled out a pen and wrote on her palm. y/n took a deep breath before placing the pen back in her purse and lifting her hand. 

The room was dark, the lights low as the light on the ceiling reflected off several disco balls. Emily had to lean in a bit to read the all-caps, slightly smudged: WILL YOU GO HOME WITH ME? Prentiss felt her heart swell, as she nodded her head. It was fast, yes, but it also felt right for the first time in so, so very long, Emily had waited for that, and she knew now was the time. y/n was smiling now and it wasn’t until she put her hand down that Em noticed that her nails were cut short. She moved in again and kissed y/n, her tongue sliding over y/n’s lower lip. y/n let her in, sucking in air while she could before their mouths closed around each other in a more passionate kiss. y/n let out a hum as they parted. She was half-breathless taking in air as she said, “How about we get out of here?” Em nodded, pecking y/n on the nose before taking her hand. They both grabbed their things from the table. They stepped out the door just as Teenage Dream started playing. Wish on hand, Em and y/n moved toward Em’s car, ready to find a place just for them. A place that was accepting and forgiving unlike how life had been for them before. Together, they could make that place.

Text Break Banner by @cafekitsune

Tag list: @silk-spun @i-lovefandom @potatovoyager

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[djarinova]

"Am I your lockscreen?"

jean kirstein x gn reader

content - modern au, fluff, jean calls reader pretty, jean gets embarrassed when you look at his phone words - 1k

"Do you seriously think you have better moves than me, Kirstein?"

Jean tilts his head, but keeps his eyes focused on the screen, not wanting to let your taunting get to him. 

The two of you had been engaged in a close battle of video games all afternoon, currently playing a 3 round game of tennis on the Wii to decide which one of you gets to choose the place you'll order food from for dinner. 

"Babe, just watch this serve and you'll be eating your words." He brings his arm back in preparation for his tennis serve. "Just like you'll be eating Chinese food for dinner!" 

Jean ends his sentence with a whoop, clearly already planning his victory as he prepares to undergo what he assumes will be his final few swings. 

The first swing is his serve, a nice and solid start in which he had you leaping to cover your end of the court. 

"You know if I win this set I win the entire match, right? It's match point, baby."

You scoff, trying your best to ignore him. 

His second swing has your heart beating frantically, and even though your eyes have been trained on his every move on screen, you still almost miss it—managing to save it by the skin of your teeth. 

"I love you baby, but there ain't no way I'm letting you win right now."

And he's right. His third swing is his most forceful yet, and you're pretty sure he almost let go off the Wii remote—thank god you told him to use the remote straps. 

You groan the second your Mii misses the tennis ball, but it's drowned out by Jean's incredibly loud, and giddy, cheering. 

"Wooooooo! Aw yeah, ah ye— did you see that, babe?—ah yeah, I'm a genius, I literally nailed that!—that was amazing." 

His cheering bleeds into something more along the lines of a song, and you can't help but laugh as you reach across the sofa to pick up Jean's phone, thinking that you may as well get the menu up and ready to browse while he finishes his gloating.

"Yeah yeah yeah, it's probably for the best anyway, you're such a sore loser—" 

Jean turns to look at you—ready to take all your teasing about how much of a bad loser he is, and how you let him win this game to save your poor ears from having to hear all his whining—when his eyes widen.

“Am I your lockscreen?” You ask, stunned.

ShitShitShit

Jean grimaces. 

Act dumb.

“What are you talking about? I… I don’t think I have a lockscreen at the moment.”

Not that dumb.

You smile, narrowing your eyes slightly in amusement as Jean’s mouth opens and closes. 

"And you're sure about that, huh?" 

"I think maybe Eren changed it the other day…" 

You stare at him, watching the cogs turning in his head. 

"I never change my lockscreen—I wouldn't even know how to—and if I did I'd only ever change it to something really good—not that you're not good—shit—I mean like, a good photo of the sky or a nice group shot or a pic of my dog—not that I think you're like my dog—you're really pretty—not that my dogs not pretty—it's a different type of pretty, you know? You wouldn't compare apples to oranges—no wait—that's not right…"

Jean looks to the ground as he trails off—not daring to meet your eyes. He could feel the tips of his ears burning. His face felt hot. His heart was racing wildly. 

God. That was a mess.

“Jean?”

He continues avoiding your eyes, willing the ground to open up and swallow him right where he stood.

“Jean?” You ask again, “Is this photo from my instagra—”

“You weren’t supposed to see that.” Jean says quickly. 

You look at him for a second—watching his chest rise and fall rapidly, and seeing how his hands are beginning to shake—and you take a step towards him. 

“Jean, would you please look at me?”

He doesn't.

“Baby, I’m serious,” you try not to smile at his stubbornness, “it's very, super, extremely important that you look at me right now.”

You step in front of your boyfriend, placing your hands on his cheeks and angling his head so he is forced to look at you.

“I’m not mad, Jean. I’m not upset or confused or embarrassed, or whatever it is that you think I'm feeling right now.” 

Jean furrows his eyebrows, but he doesn’t dare to interrupt. 

“I love it. A lot. And I can't believe I didn’t know—wait, is this what Eren was teasing you about the other day?”

Jean nods, and you're unable to stop the smile that lights up your face.

“Oh my god… you’re the sweetest guy ever.” 

You move your hands from his face, and instead settle your arms around his waist, pulling him ever so slightly closer to you.

“Why didn't you want me to know?”

“I don’t know… I think maybe I thought it was too soon…?” Jean says, his voice rising as he reaches the end of his sentence.

You shake your head.

“It’s not too soon, definitely not at all. I love it, okay?”

“Okay.” Jean smiles.

“Just promise me one thing—”

“Anything.”

“Next time you want a photo for your lockscreen, just ask me. I don’t want you to be forced to use the same photos that everybody gets to see. I want you to have something special.”

Jean feels his cheeks flare up with warmth at your words, but he nods his head.

Satisfied, you untangle your arms from around his waist and plop yourself down on the sofa, holding his phone out towards him.

Jean’s puzzled look causes you to let out a small giggle.

“Baby… You won, now come over here and order me some Chinese food.”

Jean grins, his cocky winner demeanour suddenly returning as he sits down next to you, flopping himself practically on top of you and slinking his arm around your shoulder.

“Give me that phone babe, it's time for the winner to choose the dinner.”

[chelseasdagger]

Behind the Red in My Eyes

Mikey Berzatto x Reader

Summary: Mikey comes home, yet again, exhausted after a long shift at The Beef. You offer him some encouraging words and his favorite touch to unwind.

Warnings: cursing

Author's Note: This is my first entry for @bernthirst-events's Beardthal Bash! I had this idea for a while, but I ended up writing way more plot than was needed oops! I still hope there was enough mention of the beard to count!

Word Count: 2.9k+

Mikey Berzatto took pride in his work. It may not be the most glamorous job, but he put countless hours into the family restaurant that he tries so hard to keep afloat. It’s one of your favorite things about him—how much heart he puts into everything he does.

The only downside is how often you’re stuck missing him while the apartment grows too quiet as the hours pass. You have the schedule of The Beef’s hours ingrained in your mind, tacking on the extra time it takes to close up at night. But all the counting does little to stop the frequent checking of the clock on your phone’s lockscreen.

You were thankful when he worked up the deal with Carmy to split some of the necessary management time at the sandwich shop—if you could call it management time. It would be more truthful to call it “babysitting”, taking into consideration the hotheadedness of the staff. And let's be honest, leaving the restaurant in the hands of Richie Jerimovich? Absolutely not.

But, as much as the Berzatto brothers meant well, this plan didn’t last. It worked for a while, Mikey taking the mornings and helping with opening the store so that around the time that the menu changed, Carmy could come in and work until close. They figured it would be the best way to not overwork themselves but still put a healthy amount of time into their family business.

And then one day it was too busy for Mike to come home. Since then, there hasn’t really been a fix to the original plan. You miss him a lot and definitely wish you could see him more, but you feel so much pride swelling in your chest each time you think of how hard he works for that little brick building. No amount of missing him could outweigh that feeling—or how your face feels as if it might split in two when you sneak into the restaurant and see how happy he is to be there.

Nine times out of ten, you walk in and see his smile brightening the whole room as his infectious laugh fills the air. His eyes would be squinted into thin lines as his head falls back and he clutches his chest for a breath. He always cared about the people and wanted everyone to feel welcome there no matter their background or history. You loved seeing him like this and kept these memories at the front of your mind whenever it got harder to be patient on the long nights alone.

Your phone is in your hand before you can even register it. A habit I need to break, you remind yourself, but your screen shows the time anyway. Quarter after midnight. You place the phone down on the coffee table with a sigh, exchanging it for the book that your friend swore you had to read.

Tucking your finger between the pages and your bookmark, you open up the book and scan the printed words until you can jog your memory of the last thing you read. Once you find your place, you tuck your legs to your chest and lazily tug the blanket down from the back of the couch to cover yourself. It doesn’t take long before your surroundings begin to fade and the words paint a picture in your mind.

You look up from your book at the sound of keys jingling inside the metal deadbolt on your apartment door. What time is it? A second later the door is opening and there stands Mikey. He sighs as he holds onto the doorframe before pressing the toes of one foot to the heel of the other, taking his shoes off before bending down to place them beside the entrance.

When he stands back up you finally get a good look at him in the lamplight. His shoulders are slouched, his whole body a portrait of exhaustion. He’s rubbing his knuckles sleepily at his eyes, setting the keys down on the small table beside him.

“Hey, sweetheart,” you call to him as his footsteps gently sound out on the wooden floors. He finally glances over to the couch once he notices you and the smile that stretches over his face is tired, yet genuine.

“Hey, baby,” he whispers back to you. His voice is hoarse, mostly likely due to all the yelling in the chaotic kitchen he’s spent the whole day inside of. It’s almost as if his words are caught in his chest, sounding out deep and warm when he speaks. He makes his way to the couch, leaning over the back of it, and placing a quick peck of his lips on your forehead.

As soon as you feel it, he’s gone, making his way to the kitchen in the next room over. You can immediately tell something is off; Mikey gets quiet after a long day of being the loudest guy in the room, but he’s not usually reserved in his affection towards you.

The blanket you were wrapped up in slowly slides down your chest and onto your lap as you sit up against the arm of the couch. You question whether you should push it, but something in your gut wouldn’t leave it be.

“Mikey? You okay?” you call out towards the kitchen. The sound of him closing cupboards echoes through the space next. He makes his way to the fridge, opening it before leaning inside and scanning the leftovers from the meals you make while he’s out.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he responds monotonously, pulling away with a glass container in his hand. The slightly blue lighting shines across his face, illuminating his features in a cold hue. It looks almost intentional, as if to reflect his mood. “What is this?”

“Baked ziti from last night. I’m here for you, Bear, you know that right?” You don’t miss a beat, purposefully choosing not to fall for his distraction of mentioning the food. You watch as he pauses for a moment, setting the food down on the counter and closing the fridge before walking back towards you. You never want to push him or demand he open up to you, but you also want him to know he can lean on you if need be.

A heavy sigh leaves him as he sinks down onto the cushion beside you, one arm resting along the length of the couch, the other propping his head up in his palm. You can see all the evidence of his tiring day of work now that he’s closer to you: the dark grease stains along the bottom of his blue shirt, the marks under his eyes indicating he didn’t sleep enough, the new bandage wrapped around his thumb. All signs point to a draining, most likely not rewarding, day.

Gently reaching out for his wrist, you pull his larger hand into yours. “What happened here?” He moves with you, turning his palm face up as you let your index finger gently trace over his skin. The bandage is uneven, and you can see the faint maroon marking under the tan color.

“Was a uh,” he begins, sighing as he rubs at his eyes with the knuckles of his free hand. “Was an accident. Cousin called me while I was choppin’ onions and, well,” he gestures to his injured thumb. You feel your features change as he speaks, the words painting a clear picture in your head of him in the kitchen as he gets hurt.

“I’m so sorry, Mikey,” you whisper in the small space between the two of you. Your own fingers drag down the inside of his arm, trailing over scars from accidental fryer burns and playing rough outside with Carmy when he was younger. All the little markings on his skin have little stories behind them, and you cherish the boisterous laughter that comes from him when he tells the tales.

“S’alright, baby, happens all the time,” he attempts to reassure you. The tone surrounding his words falls flat and leaves you with the same weariness in your mind. Glancing up at his face, you see the tired lines under his eyes and the way he stares out at nothing while his mind wanders.

Curling your fingers around him tighter, you bring his hand up to your face and place a gentle kiss right under the bandage. It takes him another moment to react due to the other thoughts trailing around in his mind. When he finally glances over, his eyes are fixed on your lips pressing against him, the small peck sending a wave of warmth through him. You continue staring up at him from under your eyelashes; the sigh that leaves him makes his chest deflate when his gaze locks with yours.

“Thank you,” he murmurs softly, a sad smile on his face.

“Is there anything else I can do to help?” you ask, wanting to try and improve his mood. He twists his back and adjusts himself against the couch.

“Nah, nah, baby, it’s okay. It’ll heal up,” he answers dismissively. It’s clear he didn’t pick up on the other meaning of your question, so you try wording it another way.

“No I didn’t mean the cut, Mikey.” His eyebrows pull together, confusion painted all over his features. “I can see how tired you are,” you continue, watching him sigh again and prepare to defend himself. “I just want to take some of the weight off your shoulders, is all. I’m not gonna say to cut your hours back, I know you can’t do that but…” you find your words trailing off when he reaches up to drag his palm down his face.

“You have to at least take care of yourself,” you whisper the final words as his hand drops to his lap. There’s a silence that lingers over the room and you’re worried you’ve overstepped in suggesting the restaurant being the source of a good portion of his stress.

“You’re right,” he speaks up, and you feel the tension leaving your body almost instantly. “You’re right, I just don’t… think about it?” his tone rises at the end, twisting the sentence into more of a question. His eyes find yours again and you give him a slight nod, wordlessly encouraging him to continue.

“It just… It’s always been the restaurant first, y’know? Like if that goes under then I’ve got nothing left. And then all the things everybody says about me are true.” He finishes the last sentences with an exasperated breath. Your heart sinks at his words, especially after spending one too many family dinners at his mother’s house and hearing how they treat him and his impulsivity. You want to defend him, but choose not to interrupt his venting.

“And nobody in my family knows how to slow down. I mean, shit, look at Carm,” he chuckles dryly as he shakes his head. “Nearly fuckin’ killed himself out in New York. Mom doesn’t have her head screwed on straight, doesn’t know what’s going on half the fuckin’ time. It just—.” He leans forward and rests his elbows on his knees, his head hanging low in his hands.

There’s a quick sniffle before he’s raking his fingers through his hair roughly. He sits up and stares down at his fingers, anxiously picking at the skin around his nails. Every fiber in your being screams to reach out to him and comfort him, and this time you listen to your instincts.

“Mikey,” you start, gently placing your hand on his forearm and pulling him towards you. His body falls and you feel his weight instantly pressing into your shoulder. Slumped against you like this, his body heat instantly warms up your side and you melt in turn.

“I know you might not know how to take those breaks, but we can work through it together,” you attempt to calm him. “It might not be easy at first but we can just take it one day at a time, yeah?” You glance down at your shoulder to see him staring up at you with half closed eyes. He slowly blinks before finally registering that you asked him a question.

“I like that plan,” he says eventually. His lips part as a yawn takes over and you smile as his eyes scrunch up while his jaw drops open.

“Oh, poor baby…” you chuckle under your breath. His face rests back in his natural position, but his eyes remain shut. He looks so peaceful like this that it makes your heart warm. Admittedly, it’s been too long since you’ve seen him truly relaxed like this. The last few times must’ve been when you were waking up in the night and happened to catch him asleep.

Stolen glances in the middle of the night aren’t enough, you decide. Adjusting your body on the couch, you angle yourself so your back is against the arm of the couch and your legs extend down the length of the cushions. You pull his body between your legs, guiding his head down to rest on your chest.

“You know none of that shit they say is true… right?” you ask softly as you let your fingers trail down his neck and smoothe down his back. He may not look like it, but Mike is one of the biggest suckers for physical touch—specifically cuddling.

He only hums in response, but still you continue. “The restaurant wasn’t a bad idea, baby. I think it’s sweet you kept something in the family name.” You drag your nails down his broad back softly and feel him sigh deeply, the leftover tension finally leaving his body.

“‘M pretty sure you’re the only one who thinks that,” he mumbles out, not bothering to lift his head from you. 

“I swear to god the next time Uncle Lee, or whoever, opens their god damn mouth I’m gonna be the one to throw a fork.” The next thing you feel is Mikey’s laughter shaking you, his rumbly chuckle sounding out in the quiet room. You let yourself smile at the pleasant sound, pressing your fingers into the junction where his neck meets his shoulders. With each push of your fingertips, you try to get rid of those pesky knots of stress that his body is unconsciously clinging on to.

“Seriously though,” you start again, wrapping your arms around his head this time, “we’ll figure it all out. I just want you to rest for now.” You tilt your head down and press your lips to the top of his head. You shut your eyes and try to focus on this moment: the feeling of his body weighing on your torso, his hot breath gently fanning over your arm, his scent relaxing you with each inhale you take.

You let your fingers wander, scratching your nails around his scalp under his hair. There’s a raspy groan that leaves him next and the sound has butterflies​​ suddenly coming to life in your stomach. A giggle slips out from between your lips as you ask, “Feels that good?”

Something bumps the side of your palm as you continue to play with his hair and you reach for it blindly. You try your hardest not to let disappointment wash over you as you stare at the cigarette between your fingers.

“I thought we weren’t doing this anymore, Mikey bear,” you speak in a whisper. A little less than a week ago, Mike decided to stop smoking and using drugs. You knew he could do it but you also knew how big of a step he was taking, so you tried giving as much support as you could offer. He tilts his head up at your voice and looks at you with confusedly. He glances down at the tightly rolled paper in your grasp before shaking his head gently.

“That’s from this morning, baby. Cousin offered it when he clocked in and I didn’t want to say no and have him asking a bunch of fuckin’ questions,” he explains exasperatedly. “But no, I-I didn’t smoke today.” His words are bathed with sincerity even through the tired rasp of his tone.

Your face lights up instantly, pride swelling in your chest once you realize that he kept his promise to you—his promise to himself. You can’t even imagine how difficult it must be to cut everything out like that, but you know he’s going to feel better in the long run because of it.

“I’m so, so proud of you,” you whisper as your fingers brush down his sideburns and begin to smooth out over his beard. “You’re doing so much and I see it.” You worry your words fall flat, but you also know how sometimes all you want is for someone to say that they notice the work you’re doing.

“Thank you.” You believe for a second that you imagined the words due to the barely audible breath that surrounds them. He reaches up to hold your wrist before turning his head to kiss the back of your hand. Sweet moments like this make your heart melt for him and how gentle he can be. There’s not much else to say so the both of you sit in silence, comforted by the presence of the other.

Your nails drag along the short hair that decorates his jaw and you watch his eyes flutter close for the last time. As you wrap your other arm across his chest and pull him closer, you smile at the sound of his soft snores filling the air. The ends of his facial hair tickle your fingertips but you continue gently scratching, wanting to give him a comforting touch to fall into an even deeper sleep.

“Rest up, baby boy,” you whisper as you kiss his head one final time.

[pjisskullourful]

𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓮𝓭 𝓼𝓱𝓮𝓮𝓽𝓼

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

🌼Damiano × reader

part 24 of ?? [parts 1-23]

NSFW 🚨 kinky unsafe dirrrty adultsonly playtime

° Damiano David/female reader insert

wordcount:: 7,854

° request ×3, original anon request for corruption kink damiano, helpful anon suggested clit jewellery& another anon sent in: What would Damiano’s reaction be to his girl posting a really hot thirst trap pic on Instagram? I personally can’t decide whether or not he would be cheeky and comment something like “new lock screen” or if he would get super fiery, possessive or jealous over it [requests are open! but commissions are priority, secure the fourth spot in my cue here!]

° thankyou for all the feedback on the last chapter! feel free to send your ideas to be added to the menu!

After celebrating Christmas with just Damiano, you had departed to spend time with your family, and he had done the same. While he was back in his hometown, you and your family had travelled to Greece. 

You didn't have to go back to work until next week and your parents were paying for your hotel room - there was very little for you to worry about right now. You had been getting into the laid back environment of your beachside hotel, spending a lot of the sunny days in the heated pool. There had been some fun outings with your family, eating large servings of the delicious foods.

Of course a lot of this had been documented for social media. You had put two posts on Instagram, one of them had been a carousel of landscapes and cute photos posed for with your sister.

The other post had been less focused on showing off the experiences you had been having - it was three different photos of you in your bikini. You had been feeling comfortable and confident in the black and white swimwear. You liked how the padding in the top made your boobs look. You thought the ribbon closures on either side of the bottoms were cute, instead of worrying about them adding to the wideness of your hips.

After complimenting how you looked, your sister had offered to take some photos of you by the pool. Petra hadn't rushed you, taking a lot of photos and letting you feel as close to being a model as you would probably ever get. You hadn't posted a photo like these in a while. Were you trying to get your boyfriend's attention, to make him miss you more? Were you showing off? Were you trying to feel desirable? Or were you just embracing this moment of feeling good about your appearance?

Regardless of whether or not your main goal was to get Damiano's approval, you got it. You had gotten a notification of a new comment from him.

Next to his username had been two words: new lockscreen. Then there had been a few flaming heart emojis. You were soon grinning, feeling that giddy rush he could so effortlessly give you.

Then you were getting a private message from him: are you busy? When you replied that you weren't, you were just hanging out in your room alone, he called you via FaceTime and his smiling face was soon filling the screen of your phone.

Before speaking, he raised a bottle of water into frame, getting the cap open. "Hang on, I'm just having a drink, because I'm all dehydrated after that thirst trap."

You giggled, watching him have some water. "It is not a thirst trap."

"Yes it is." He said. "I could look up a definition of thirst trap right now and it would say: when your girlfriend posts a bikini pic looking so damn fuckable."

"Fuckable? That's not what you said in your comment."

"The context was there." He said. "You should come home…"

"It's not bikini-weather there."

"I'll turn the heater on."

“Did you really make it your lock-screen?” You asked.

“Yes. Of course. I put all three of them in a little collage and I’m very excited to get to see it every time I pick up my phone.”

You were still grinning, feeling very flattered that he would want to look at the photos so much. He was just enjoying them, he wasn’t seeing the imperfections that your eyes could be drawn to.

Then you started to laugh when you saw him raise his fingers to his forehead, stroking upwards. “You just went to brush the hair back from your face. But there isn’t any hair there anymore.”

He smiled and rubbed the palm of his hand over his still relatively fresh buzz cut. “I’ve gotta break the habit.”

“I’ll be home in two days.” You reminded him. “And you can send me lots of thirst traps in that time.”

“We’ll see who can out-thirst the other.”

You stuck out your bottom lip as you studied his face, wishing you could touch him. “Two days is too long.”

“I know.” He lamented, pouting back at you. “I miss you. I’m so over just having pillows in the bed. At first, stretching out was fun or whatever. But I’m just wanting my kitten now. What good is bedtime without cuddles?”

“Yeah, stretching out in bed is so overrated. I even miss your cold feet.” You said. “And at least fifty times a day, something happens that makes me think of one of our inside jokes. But I can’t say it because no one will understand what I’m talking about.”

“Aw. Nobody’s appreciating your comedic genius.” He said. “What’s your plan for today? When I think about you, where will I picture you?”

“There’s a market that my mum wants to visit and then I think we’ll find a café for lunch.”

He appeared somewhat disappointed. “Oh, so no lounging around the pool in your bikini on the schedule?”

You giggled. “No. But that doesn’t mean that you can’t picture me in the bikini.”

“I probably shouldn’t. There are things that I was hoping to accomplish today.”

He helped you pick out what to wear for your family outing. You propped your phone up so that he could watch you get dressed. As you were styling your hair he told you about the plans he had for the day. A friend from his school days had just had their first child and he would be visiting with them. You made him promise to send you lots of photos of the baby.

You completed your outfit by putting on your Chanel choker. Then you exchanged your ‘I love you’s as you wrapped up the call, setting off for your separate days to share with one another in tonight’s phone call.

*** *** ***

Damiano was there waiting for you at the airport. He embraced you so tightly that your feet were lifted off the floor as you kissed one another hurriedly. You weren't embarrassed by this public display of affection, you didn't care what the many other people in the airport might think - you felt sorry for them for not having such a Heavenly reunion.

He lifted both of your suitcases into the car. Once driving, he kept one hand mostly resting on your thigh. The two of you caught up on any details that hadn't yet been shared about your vacations. It was a relief to get to see his eyes on you again, to hear his voice clearly and smell him. His presence did away with any sense of fatigue or frustration from your travel. You were so glad to be home, despite having not reached your apartment building yet.

When you arrived home, you were going for one particular pocket in your pink suitcase. He had already started to wheel your other bag in the direction of the bedroom, before you got his attention.

“I have something for you.” You said, keeping him from getting any further away. “Just a little gift, I saw it at the markets and I knew I had to get it for you.”

“Aw kitten, aren’t you just the sweetest little thing in the world?” He replied, showing you a gorgeous smile already, independent of seeing his present. “I hope you don’t feel like I’m trying to upstage you when I let you know that I’ve got gifts for you.”

Your hands came out of the pocket empty as you got distracted from your task. “Gifts?”

The look on your face made him giggle. “Yeah, I made you something, as well as some things I bought.”

Your eyes grew wide. “Made?”

He held a hand out to you. “How about you save finding my gift for later? And right now, you come with me and let me spoil you?” Instantly you left your suitcase behind, going over to him. “Why am I not surprised that you needed very little convincing?”

He took your hand, grinning as you began walking toward the bedroom together. Your other suitcase was left behind. You couldn't see anything gift wrapped upon first stepping into the bedroom.

"You'll have to get naked first." He said.

You stopped walking. "Oh, I get it. You're gonna cum on me, the thing you 'made' for me is all the jizz in your balls." You had unzipped your jeans. "I should have seen it coming…"

"What? No. Unless you want to, I could give you a wet 'welcome home', that could easily be arranged, baby.”

You already had your pants down to where you could step out of them. “Seriously, that isn’t what you were getting at?”

“No. I got you a couple of things to wear and I want you to put them on right now. I’ve been dying to see them on you.” He said.

“Okay.”

As you progressed to taking more things off, he went over to the bed. He crouched down so as to reach into the area beneath the bed frame, pulling on something that was currently out of sight. You fulfilled his request of getting naked, then stood in the room and keenly waited for what was to come next.

When he stood up, he had a small package in his hand. He gave it to you and you assumed you were about to open a necklace or bracelet. He watched you pulling away the wrapping paper, an amused smile on his face that made you wonder what kind of reaction he was hoping for.

You came upon a length of thin black cord and attached to this was some kind of charm. It was made of silver, in the shape of a hollow oval with a teardrop pendant hanging in the centre, completed by a single diamond. You were trying to determine if you had ever seen a design like this before. Then you noticed the cord was attached to the charm in three spots - what kind of necklace was this? Was it something that you wore over your head? He was still smiling as he watched you assessing the item.

"Um, I really don't want to sound ungrateful here…" You began as you turned it around in your hands, stretching the elastic bands in your effort to understand it.

"Here, let me show you how to put it on." He said gently and you handed it over.

He threaded his hands through the two large loops and started to bend down, getting onto his knees in front of you. You were completely clueless as you watched him. He brought the elastic loops down to the ground just in front of your feet and instructed you to step in. He started to bring it up the length of your legs, the pendant placed between them. Now you realised that this was some strange kind of g-string.

He put his fingers up to your pussy, easing your labia apart. Your eyes were wide, you had no idea what he was about to do with this unfamiliar item. His other hand adjusted the charm, bringing the cool metal up to your skin. It framed your clit, pressing against you and keeping your labia somewhat spread back even after his fingers were taken away. The little pendant bumped against your clitoris, startling you and making you gasp.

"Daddy, what is this?" You asked.

He adjusted the elastic bands so that they sat up on your hips, mimicking how a thong would fit. "Do you like it? It's just a little jewellery for your clit. Not that it needed anything extra to be pretty and enticing. But I liked the idea of you wearing this under your panties as a reminder that you, and this pussy, belong to me.

"Other people can look, they can see you looking fuckable in a bikini- but this pussy is just for me." He said, a serious look now in his eyes as he looked up at you.

"Is this because of what I posted on Instagram, the thirst trap?" You asked. 

He stayed where he was, not yet done admiring this new accessory. "That was part of the motivation, yes. I was so very turned on when I saw those pictures, I was like: wow, look at my girlfriend. Then I thought for a moment longer, going back to that word: look. And I realised other people could and would look, and it brought out a certain possessiveness in me. I know that you're on private on Insta and there's no random creeps seeing you. But I couldn't help it, I saw your body and felt this need to stake my claim."

"I can delete it." You rushed to offer.

"No, it's okay, kitty. It's your profile and your pictures. If that's how you wanna catalogue your vacation, it's totally fine with me. You celebrating your body is great, it's sexy, I love it. I would never think of telling you to take them down, I promise." He said. "This isn't a punishment, 'cause you did nothing wrong. Daddy just needs to work through some of his jealousy, okay?" He kissed across the top of your thigh. "And he only gets jealous 'cause you're something so special, something he could never stand the thought of losing."

"You could never lose me." You said.

"How do you like it?" He asked. "It's not uncomfortable, is it? I trust that you would tell me the second something was painful."

"No, it's not painful. It's just…" Readjusting your weight made the dangling pendant move against your clit, prompting an excited shiver from you. "...different."

"It looks really pretty. Appetising. But I'm gonna try to not get too distracted here, I've still got so much more for you." He said, giving your thigh a squeeze before moving away. He went back to the stash under the bed, bringing out a new, larger gift. "I think you're gonna look just as delicious in this."

Beneath the wrapping paper, you came across sheer black fabric. As you unfolded it, you found a soft fur trim. There was so much of this luxurious, drapey fabric. Freeing it from the packaging, you held it up, finding it was a very glamorous dressing gown.

You gasped, thrilled by the sight of it (the silver pendant rubbed against your clitoris again). "Damiano, it's gorgeous. I love it so fucking much." You began to wrap the smooth fabric around yourself, pushing your arms into the long sleeves.

“Oh, fuck yeah.” He said, taking a step back to admire you more as you tied the sash into a knot at your waist. “It’s absolutely perfect on you. This is pure opulence, baby.”

You giggled and started twirling around in a circle, the fabric dramatically flaring out in the process. “Opulence. Ha, mmn…” Your movements got the jewellery on your clitoris rocking and you felt your gut tighten as you questioned the sturdiness of your knees. You stopped spinning quite quickly, sucking on your lower lip.

“Are you okay? Is it the jewellery?” He asked, a knowing smile on his face making him look smug.

You nodded, letting out a shaky exhale. “Yeah, it’s kind of hard to forget about.”

“That’s very much the point.” He said. “How about you sit down? I don’t want you too distracted while I give you the rest of the gifts.”

You walked over to the bed, the little pendant tapping on your clit with every step. You were feeling waves of tingles moving through your body as you carefully sat down, putting more concentration into this than was normal. Your chest expanded and you tried to adjust to this hint of pressure - it was subtle, but it kept wanting to draw your attention back to your clit.

“The robe doesn’t have anything to do with jealousy or ownership. But it does go with the rest of your gifts and what I made for you. Do you wanna see the rest?” He asked.

“Yes, please Daddy.”

This time when he reached beneath the bed, he brought out your laundry basket, filled with items. You sat up straighter, trying to quickly identify everything it held. You saw a black package with the Lush branding. You saw a brand new hairbrush. There was a pair of headphones still in their box. Amongst the many items that had the basket on the verge of overflowing were bottles of ointments and lotions.

He placed the basket beside you and plucked out a small booklet, handing it to you. “Here you go.”

Kitten’s Menu the cover read, in what you recognised to be his handwriting. An intrigued smile lifted the corners of your lips as you tried to figure out how all of this fit together. You looked up to where he stood beside the mattress, keenly watching every reaction from you.

You opened the book, the inside cover telling you that this was for your eyes only.

Aftercare Menu, the heading on the first page said.

"Let me know if anything is unclear, I tried really hard to have it all make sense, but if you get confused, just ask." He said, leaning one knee on the bed next to you.

"This is what you made me?" You asked.

"Yep, typed it up, folded the pages very carefully, stapled it all together." He said.

"Just for me?"

His fingers stroked against your arm. "All for you, kitten. I figure that once a scene is done, you get wrapped up in your lovely robe and you pick something from the menu, anything you want and you get it."

You were smiling as you began to read down the list of options.

Talking. This had an offshoot: words of affirmation, deconstructing scene, talking about something else, sharing memories, any other topic.

"If you don't feel like talking, I can just talk to you, or even read to you. I can find random pop culture articles and read to you about pointless shit." He added as elaboration.

Silence/space, for as long as you need.

Cuddling.

Taking a nap together.

Blanket burrito.

Back rubs/tickles, or massages.

Brushing your hair. That explained the new brush amongst the other gifts.

Watching TV, something trashy, something silly, something we've seen a million times, something we can fall asleep during.

Bath or shower.

Eating, I'll make you anything you want.

Tea.

Listening to music or a podcast.

Burning incense.

Colouring. You could see a colouring book, along with a box of pencils in the basket as well.

Ointments on any ouchies. Rubbing in moisturiser.

Sheet mask.

Yoga.

He piped up when he saw you get to the bottom of this page. "The yoga doesn't have to be anything intensive, it's not a time to do a workout."

"Online shopping, literally anything I want?" You read aloud. "Are you serious?"

He sat next to you. "Yep, no limitations. If you wanna buy new shoes, you can have them. You can get makeup, you can get more plants, you can get video games, you can get fifty new Squishmallows, whatever baby. We'll lay in bed together and you can just point at what you want. After fucking you stupid, I'll spoil you stupid."

"Holy fuck." You said quietly.

Playing games together: Block Blast, Wordscapes, Candy Crush.

Drive to get fast food.

"The book isn't full, 'cause you can come up with new stuff that you want and we can work on it together." He said.

"This is amazing." You said.

He kissed you on the cheek. "You deserve it. I was just thinking about how to give you the best aftercare experience possible and I thought that this way, when your brain might be feeling a little fried, you can just point and you can get what you need easier."

"It's really-... I'm kind of speechless." You said, looking back over the pages.

He kissed you on the cheek again, closer to your lips this time. "I wanted to show you how serious I am about taking care of you, I love you."

You looked up at him, wrapping an arm around his neck. "I love you too."

You brought his lips to yours, placing your other arm around him as you quickly sought to deepen the kiss. You turned to face him and he put his hands to your back, holding you in close. You felt your heartbeat pick up as his tongue slid past your lips, exploring into your mouth. You let your mouth open wider as he rubbed at the roof of your mouth. You were getting giddy from this proximity that you had been missing during your time away.

He pulled back, his hands on your cheeks as he looked deeply into your eyes, a penetrative stare. His fingers caressed your skin, the expression on his face completely serious. “I promise to end every scene with the best, most thorough, most loving aftercare. But you have to promise to always be transparent with how you’re feeling, that’s the only way we can keep thriving like this.”

“Of course, yes, I promise, I promise a thousand times.” You said. “But you have to promise to stay transparent too.”

He gave you a peck on the lips. “Promise forever.”

You leaned in, not done with kissing him yet. You took your time to enjoy his lips as he rubbed your cheeks. You kissed his upper lip, then kissed the lower lip, lingering here. When you went back to the upper lip, he took the opportunity to suck your lip into his mouth. The way he nibbled lightly on it made you squirm a little, getting closer to him, your hand on his thigh.

“Do you wanna go for a walk to the kitchen for me, kitten?” He asked.

“Okay, let’s see how far I get before this thing on my clit fucks me all the way up.”

Getting to your feet prompted the dangling pendant to shift, which stirred something within you. This didn’t go away as you started to walk out of the room. He was following closely behind you, seeing every hesitation and flinch.

It was like having your vibrator on the lowest setting, being held to your clitoral hood. It wasn’t supposed to get you off, but it was definitely meant to turn you on. It was meant to prime you, getting blood pumping to this area. It was noticeably titillating with practically every step, plunging your mind into a sexually-charged haze.

You whined as excited flutters filled your cunt, you looked back over your shoulder at him. “It’s making me horny.”

He was smiling as he watched you. “Excellent, that’s how I want you.”

Your next stride was interrupted by his palm unexpectedly striking your butt. In your surprise, you jumped forward. This caused the greatest swing of the pendant, with it landing very solidly back against your clitoral hood. Your knees snapped together and your gut clenched in this heightened moment.

You didn’t get the chance to recover your footing before he was grabbing your bicep and pulling you off your path. You went with this momentum, ending up pushed against the wall by him. The pendant wasn’t settled yet, bringing a tightness to your throat. You hadn’t made it to the kitchen, stopped just shy of the dining room. It was impossible to say if you would have gotten the whole way to the kitchen if not for his interference.

And you found you didn’t care too much about this, not when you had him bearing down on you. He was still wearing that enticed smile as he pushed his hips into yours. He put his fingers to your chin, tilting your head back as he leaned in closer.

“Your pussy likes the little gift from Daddy?” He asked, slowly wiggling his hips from one side to the other, setting into the promising beginnings of friction.

“Uh-huh. It’s getting so wet.” You said.

“Dripping?”

You considered what you were feeling between your legs. “It will be soon.” He gave you a kiss as he continued his leisurely grinding on you. “It’s kinda ridiculous how wet you get me.”

“I think it’s an important job to make sure that gorgeous pussy stays wet.” He said, applying more kisses to your lips.

He braced himself with his hands resting on the wall, just above each of your shoulders. This made you feel wonderfully contained, surrounded by the building lust. As you kissed him back, you became acutely aware of just how long it had been since you had last had sex. Thinking about that stretch of time spawned a deep ache through you.

“Will you let me do my important job?” You borrowed his phrasing. But this just got you a confused look from him. You licked your lips, pushing through the trepidation to be unsubtle. “You know, a blow job.”

He nodded, winking one eye shut. “I get you. And obviously there’s no way I’m turning that down.” You bent your knees, getting your body lower. “You wanna do it right here?”

“Why not?” You responded, not hesitating in getting your knees down to the floor.

He bent down, hands on your cheeks as he secured a few more kisses from you. “You’re such a good girl. Just give me a shove if your head is bouncing against the wall too much. We don’t need you developing a concussion, or whatever.”

“Yeah, I don’t think your aftercare menu has that covered.” You said as he straightened up.

You undid the button on his jeans and got the zipper down. He helped you take the pants off, because it wasn’t enough to take them down, he had to get out of the jeans altogether. You were greeted by the sight of his boner stretching the fabric of his briefs. You got these out of your way, letting them rest around his knees.

You wrapped a hand around his hard shaft, but before you could get your mouth to the head, he was getting your attention by pulling your hair. Obediently, you looked up at him.

“Stick your tongue out for me.” He instructed, with you instantly extending your tongue out, presenting it to him. “Uh-huh. Now I’m gonna bounce my cock on it a little, so keep it just like that for me, okay?” His hand replaced yours on the shaft (the other still gripping strands of your hair). “Be a good girl and hold it nice and flat for Daddy.”

You felt the weight of his cock tapping against your tongue as you kept your eyes on his face. You saw the breathless smile that this activity brought to his face. He did this without any apparent rhythm, working himself up as felt best.

“Okay, you can kiss it now.” He said and you were quickly repositioning your mouth, changing so that you could begin treating the tip to kisses. “Yeah, show me how much you missed this fuckin’ cock.”

You saw the entranced look on his face as you let your kisses linger, your saliva wetting his taut skin. This graduated to you parting your lips, incorporating your tongue. At first it was just a little - briefly touching the tip to his head, before withdrawing when the kiss concluded.

Then flicking your tongue up became involved licking. You swirled your tongue all around the head. You saw his eyelids begin to flutter shut as you rapidly worked the tip of your tongue against his head.

“It’s been a hot minute, so I think we’re gonna need to just…” He kept his hand around his cock as he gently rocked forward, easing into your mouth at a slight angle. "...stretch that cheek a little." He guided the tip of his dick along the inside of your right cheek, momentarily pushing it out. Then he withdrew. "And the other one." Your left cheek was given the same treatment. "That feels better, huh?"

"Uh-huh." You responded, trying to not move your mouth too much.

He let go of his cock, seemingly ready to trust you going forward. But he kept his hand in your hair.

You placed your lips around his cock and slid forward. You drew most of his length into your mouth, beginning to massage all over it with your tongue. You let his taste dance across your palette as you listened to his heavy breathing.

Then you began to bob your head, stroking your lips up-and-down him. You shut your eyes as you concentrated on this task, listening and feeling his reactions. You flicked your tongue up sporadically, giving an extra element to some of your pumps. He kept his hips still, content to go with the tempo you were setting into.

"How about you wiggle those hips for me, my little fucktoy?" He asked. "Get that jewellery moving on your pretty clit, hm?" You found him still staring down at you. You began to gyrate your hips, setting the swinging pendant into motion again. It was immediately enticing, the tingles rapidly spreading out through you. "Uh-huh, get that pussy ready for me."

You moved your hips in little circles. You held him steady, close to the base as you kept working your mouth up-and-down, getting more of his cock moist with your spit. You shut your eyes and drew your cheeks in. His hand relaxed in your hair and you heard him let out a breathy moan.

You worked yourself up to a consistent pace, keeping the pendant rocking on your clitoral hood, without letting it distract you from the priority of his pleasure. You bobbed your head, finding a motion that you could comfortably maintain. Listening to his whimpers got you excited for what other sounds you could draw from him.

He increased the power of your strokes when he started to roll his hips to your tempo. You took your hand from his length, putting it to his balls instead, no longer needing to steady the shaft. His head moved deeper into you, getting closer to your throat.

"Yes. Good girl." He moaned, pressing the back of your head to the wall as he rocked his body weight forward. You tilted your head back, keeping your mouth in motion. "Oh, good girl."

He put his hands to the sides of your head, keeping you where he needed as he pumped his hips faster. He drove his tip along your tongue at a hungry rhythm and you could feel him quivering.

He lifted one of his feet from the floor, raising his leg so that he could brace his knee against the wall beside your head. This allowed him to thrust harder. You could feel drool running off of your lower lip as you kept up with him.

He worked his head into your throat, his fingers dug into your face as he got more desperate. Each of his loud moans bled into another, a consistent background sound to the wet noises of your mouth working on his cock.

"Oh my pet, yes." He let out a choked sob.

Your throat spasmed around him, your world freezing until his cum was being set loose into you. You were shaking as his hands let go of your face. He rocked back, fading into his climax. You looked up at him, marvelling at him in this state. His eyes were shut and he gradually emptied your mouth. You let yourself become still, your clit jewellery resting in place.

You steadily came back to your surroundings, running your hands up-and-down his legs as you continued to watch his recovery. He put his foot back on the ground, moving a little out of your personal space.

When he looked down at you, he smiled and started to run his fingers through your hair lovingly. "Kitty, you're so fuckin' good at that. I wasn't too rough, was I?"

"No, I'm okay." You said, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

"Was that fun for you too?" He asked. "Did getting me off get you all worked up?"

"Uh-huh."

He pushed his briefs the rest of the way down and then removed his shirt. He offered his hands to you, helping you to your feet. "It's not just about me. I've got more planned for you." Once you were at his height, he threw his arms around you, kissing you. "I wanna get you out of that robe and get to enjoying that body you've been using to get me so worked up from a different fuckin' country."

"Yes, Master." You said, covering his lips with enthusiastic kisses. "Show me where thirst-trapping gets me."

He gave you another deep kiss, then placed one of his hands in yours. He started to walk in the direction of the dining table. As you went with him, you felt the jewellery shifting on your clitoral hood again and it got your heart beating faster.

He moved himself up onto the table, sitting on it. He beckoned you closer by curling his fingers in the air. You positioned yourself in the space between his thighs, the two of you starting to kiss. His hands went down to your sash, untying it and progressing to push the robe off of your shoulders. You kissed him deeper as the fabric fell away from your body, leaving you just as exposed as him. You placed your arms around his neck, teasing your tongue between his lips. His hands moved down your bare back as he opened his mouth, letting you rub your tongue against his.

He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you tight, your chest flush to his. "Climb up here kitten, I want you on top of me."

He eased himself back a little and you lifted one knee up, setting it on the tabletop next to his butt. You rocked your body weight forward and got your other knee onto the table, his arms around you keeping you steady. He began kissing you again as you got settled into this position of straddling him. You could feel how hard he was as more of your body pressed into him, it made you pay extra attention to how sensitive the jewellery was making your clitoris feel.

He started to lean back, lying down on the surface. He put his hands to your hips, stroking up-and-down gently as you remained sitting up. "I love seeing what belongs to me like this. Do you belong to me, pet?"

"Of course I do." You said, comfortable and stable on top of him. You let your fingers explore over his torso as you enjoyed the way he looked at you. "I belong all to you, totally and completely, yours."

As he was looking into your eyes, he moved one of his hands off of your side, going towards the centre of your belly. He trailed his fingers down, going over the curve of the bottom of your belly and continuing lower. You bit into your bottom lip as his fingertips went across your mound, sliding down to where the jewellery was framing your clit. He reached lower, leaving this hot area in the interest of seeking out your entrance. You heard the wet sounds that your cunt made in response to his fingertips before he stretched you open with one finger.

"That especially belongs to you." You said, your voice quieter than before.

He smiled as he reached deeper between your walls. Your clit was quivering against the pendant and you felt your breath coming in faster. Your thighs clenched around his hips as you started to give your pleasure more priority in your mind.

“Did you play with this pussy at all while you were away?” He asked, beginning to work his finger inside of you.

“No, I didn’t have permission to.” You said.

He looked pleased as he added a second finger. “Good pet. You know just how to behave to keep me happy, don’t you?”

“It’s a privilege to make you happy.” You said.

He slowly worked his fingers inside of you, the arousal coming in a steady incline. You began to move your hips as you got more invested, gently thrusting in time with his pacing. Your movements got the pendant rocking, it swung forward with your momentum before returning to your clit with a tap. It gave you a burst of excitement each time and you knew it would soon be difficult to hide your greediness.

Once you realised he wasn’t going to put an end to your movements, you decided to experiment with what else he would let you get away with. With every rock, you eased yourself a little further forward, until you got your crotch up against his boner. Then you leaned back, while tilting your pelvis. This allowed you to start grinding your pussy on his bare cock. You felt his cock twitch as you relished in the extra friction you had harnessed.

You made sure to keep eye contact with him so that he could see exactly what his fingers and dick were doing to you. You knew how much he got off on that, your enjoyment existing for him.

He wrapped his unoccupied hand around his shaft. You tried to guess his next move as you kept yourself steady with each hand gripping his thighs. Your arms shook as he started directing the head of his cock to your entrance.

He worked swiftly, his cock sliding inside in the same instant that his wet fingers were taken out. Your walls gave a giddy flutter as he moved in deeper. You leaned your weight forward again, earning more sensations from the jewellery. You felt so wonderfully claimed by him as your cunt stretched to accommodate him.

“Did you want me to stay up like this, Master?” You asked.

He rested his hands on your lower back as his eyes moved up-and-down your body, assessing his options. “Yeah, I haven’t had enough of this sublime view yet. So long as you’re comfortable.”

He was the one to set the pace, thrusting up into you. You braced yourself with your hands on his stomach as you began to move with him. This kept the pendant swinging against your clit, driving you further from your sense of composure.

He struck your butt with his hand. "I'm gonna spank you. And I want you to clench that pussy every time I do, okay?"

"Yes, Daddy."

He slapped the other cheek and you responded by manually clasping your walls around his length. Then you released with a shaky sigh. You didn't let your hips stop, working at staying in rhythm.

Your pussy tightened with the next spank and you could feel your whole body investing in this excitement. You plunged down harder on his cock as you kept reacting to his spanks. You were soon greeting the strikes with little cries as the sensations ruling your body only gained more power. Your knees were going weak and you shut your eyes, ready to get lost.

Soon there were little to no breaks between his persistent spanks, your cunt constantly squeezing him until you could feel his cock throbbing as it massaged you.

He progressed to just holding your ass in his hands, gripping each cheek with his fingers digging in. You clenched your walls, with the rest of your body tensing up. Happy whimpers were falling from his lips, accompanying your own needy moans. Your hands held tightly onto his sides as the intensity began to overwhelm you.

You rocked forward, your mouth seeking out his as the passion kept getting closer to bubbling over. His hands relaxed on your butt and he kissed you back. Your walls clenched uncontrollably as his speed increased, his hips recklessly pounding against yours. Breathy moans interrupted your kisses, but you unfailingly met his every thrust.

"I wanna switch…" He said, changing how he held onto you. "Will you let Daddy put you on your tummy?"

“Uh-huh.”

You climbed off of him, continuing to be stimulated by the rocking jewellery as you stood beside the table. He got up as well, offering his help to make your change in position as smooth as possible. You turned away from him, lying your chest down on the hard surface. Your feet remained on the floor as you braced yourself for more.

As he stepped in closer, he showed his appreciation for your presented ass by tapping his hand against each cheek. This only served to increase the desires inside of you, making you arch your back and squirm a little. When this motion caused the pendant to shift and drag over your swollen clit, you smiled to yourself.

You were grateful when he didn’t make you wait for penetration, it was a relief to be spared any further teasing. With one hand gripping your squishy hip, he buried his length into your cunt. Your breathing hitched as he filled you almost all the way up in an instant.

He began rocking his hips into you, stroking himself into a persistent rhythm. You could feel his head rubbing at parts of your pussy that had been inaccessible to him in the previous position, harnessing new sensitivities.

As you moved with him, you felt him sliding in deeper. It only took a few more thrusts to get him to the greatest depth, his movements harmonising with how the pendant knocked against your clit to keep taking you higher.

"Daddy, ah..." You whimpered when you felt his tip collide with your sweet spot.

The movements of his hips became more concentrated, keeping himself at your g-spot with short strokes. He grinded into your butt, still giving you so much energy. "Is that where you want it? Has Daddy found the perfect spot to fuck you?"

You squeezed your eyes shut, writhing on the table. "Yes, yes, yes." You responded, your voice getting squeakier.

"If I keep fucking you here, will you show me how much you missed me by covering my cock in your cum, huh? Will you do that for me?" He asked.

"Yes, I will."

He put both of his hands to your ass, grabbing handfuls firmly. He gripped your cheeks as he smacked his hips into you quicker than before. Your mouth hung open as you felt yourself becoming entirely overwhelmed, he was leaving you with no chance to regain your composure.

You gave one last powerful thrust to meet him before it all became too much and you were rocketing over your edge. Your eyes rolled back as you dissolved into the pleasure, all of the tension leaving your body.

As you tingled and shivered, he kept going, chasing a second orgasm for himself. He powered into you, rutting between your spasming walls. You held your breath, held at this spectacular height with the excitement firing little sparks all through your body.

He gave a loud series of incoherent cries as he started unloading into you, bucking so as to drive the cum deeper. Your knees buckled and your hands curled into useless fists as you whimpered through this stunning conclusion.

"Oh, kitty…" He exhaled, his hands releasing from your butt as he pulled out.

You let yourself go limp on the table, working to catch your breath. You felt like you were in a daze, whiny moans painting your exhales every so often.

"You okay?" He asked in response to your silence.

You slowly lifted your head to the feeling of him stroking his fingers up-and-down your back. "Yeah, yeah, I'm okay." You began to get up, moving to sit in one of the closeby chairs. "I can take this jewellery off now, right? Please?"

"Of course, of course." He said, even helping you take the straps down. "It didn't hurt you at all, did it? Because I could kiss it better, maybe." He winked at you.

"No, it doesn't hurt. It's just so fucking intense." You said.

He held it by the elastic. "I'll have to go back to the website to see how to clean this properly. Come on, let's get you somewhere more comfortable. How do you feel?"

"I'm good. That was quite the welcome home."

Your legs were still feeling a bit shaky when you got back to the bed. He laid down with you, one arm wrapped around you while he reached for something with the other. He placed the menu in front of your face and you took it.

He kissed you on the cheek. "Pick what you want."

You were smiling to yourself as you opened it, you weren't quite sure where to start. "Can I get some food?"

"Of course, baby. Do you wanna go get something or can I make you something?" He asked.

"Can I have a bowl of mac and cheese?"

"That's it?"

"Yeah." You said with a shrug. "What did you think I was gonna ask for, a four course meal, something made from scratch?"

He shook his head. "Mac and cheese coming right up." He gave you a quick kiss on the lips before getting up. He pulled on some clothes before leaving the room.

You didn't wait long before leaving as well, dressing yourself in a shirt and comfortable panties. You went back to your pink suitcase, this time you didn't get distracted from locating your gift for him.

"Okay, give me more than five seconds to make it." He said as you walked into the kitchen. "I haven't even gotten the water to boil yet."

"Good, that means you've got time for me to give you your gift now." You said, holding the small package out of sight behind your back.

"Ooh, yes." He turned away from the stove at once.

You placed it in the palm of his hand and he tore the paper away to reveal a beaded necklace. He lifted up the minimalist design, looking at the gemstones in the light.

"Do you like it?" You asked. "I know that you're literally the last person in the world who needs a new necklace, you could get any, even designer shit. But I- that's the gemstone for my star sign, so I thought you might like to wear it when we're apart and I also thought it would look really good on you."

"I love it. Thank you, kitten." He said, instantly undoing the small clasp so that he could place the accessory around his neck. "I'm gonna wear it all the time."

You smiled, enjoying how the coloured stones looked on his skin. "It's kind of a similar idea to yours, a little reminder of me, just not sexual."

"And it's perfect." He said, pecking you on the lips. "How does it look?"

"Gorgeous." You said. "I'm so happy that you like it."

"How could I not? I love everything and anything that gives me an excuse to think about you. 'Cause I love you."

You wrapped your arms around his waist, further distracting him from making your food because you wanted to kiss him more. "I love you too."

╭── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅──╮

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[password-door-lock]

Mystictober Day 4-- Pirate/4th Wall

Unknown breaks the fourth wall (928 words)

You’re in the middle of reading fic when your phone buzzes. You ignore it, of course, in favor of the words on your laptop screen. 

“I’ll make you walk the plank,” Unknown purrs, using the tip of his sword to carefully tilt your chin up, “If you don’t tell me what I want to know. Don’t test me, prince(ss). It won’t end very well for you, hm?” 

Your phone buzzes again, and, annoyed, you drag your eyes away from your computer to look at your phone. All day at work, you’ve been looking forward to reading about pirate Unknown. Everybody in your circle knows about that— you haven’t been able to shut up about him— so why would they be bothering you? Also, more importantly, you thought you turned on do not disturb, so nobody should even be able to interrupt you. Did that get switched off somehow? In that case, you should probably remedy the issue before it distracts you further from your precious reading time. 

The answer waiting for you on your lockscreen leaves you with far more questions than answers. 

Mystic Messenger: [New Chatroom] Did you miss me? 

This is alarming for several reasons. For one thing, the moon symbol in the top right corner of your phone’s display confirms your assessment that the device is, in fact, set to “do not disturb.” For another, you aren’t currently playingMystic Messenger, so there’s no reason for a chatroom to open. And even if you were playing, this title isn’t one that you recognize. You cast one last wistful look to your computer screen, where the lines of text about your beloved pirate Unknown are fading to black, before cutting your losses and navigating to the mysme app. Maybe this is some sort of marketing gimmick or something. 

Strangely, as soon as the app loads, you’re taken to a log of today’s chats— without being told which route you’re on. It’s already early evening, but according to this display, no other conversations have taken place today. Also, the list of participants in the current chat is empty… What could possibly be going on? The only way to find out is to enter the chatroom, you suppose. 

Your first reaction to the string of messages from Unknown is excitement. After all, you’re always happy to see more content about your favorite character. Then, you actually read the messages, and your racing heart drops into your stomach. 

Unknown: Are you enjoying your reading, prince(ss)?  Unknown: You didn’t log in for a long time…  Unknown: I thought you forgot about me…  Unknown: But now you’re reading stories someone wrote about me Unknown: Where I’d come and take you away.  Unknown: Is that what you’re hoping will happen, cutie? 

This seems oddly specific, but maybe… it’s a seasonal chat or something. Is today some kind of holiday? When you click on the blinking yellow button that would normally allow you to select from a menu of pre-programmed responses, you’re beyond gobsmacked to see a keyboard pop up for you to type out an answer. 

MC: What the fuck?  Unknown: Don’t act so surprised.  Unknown: You were the bold one,  Unknown: Looking up pictures and stories about me Unknown: You said you’d do anything for me, didn’t you? 

Well, there’s only one way that somebody could have found that out, and it reveals something alarming about whoever you’re talking to right now. Whoever it is would have to have a flagrant disregard for your privacy, not to mention the law, and they’d also need a vested interest in contacting you just to taunt you through the most roundabout method imaginable. Could you… actually be talking to Unknown? 

MC: How did you get access to my tumblr? 

The question sounds stupid to you as soon as you press ‘send.’ It might be a shock that this fictional man may be able to contact you, but assuming that he is, it’s no surprise at all that he’s gained entry to your various accounts. Isn’t he supposed to be the best hacker in the world or something?

Unknown: I’m a hacker, prince(ss). Unknown: Which is kind of like a pirate  Unknown: So you don’t have to bother with that fake copy of me that somebody made up Unknown: Now that you’ve got attention from the real one.  MC: I’m sorry  MC: Are you JEALOUS of a fanfic? 

It’s in character, you suppose, but it’s still a bit startling. Either way… you can’t help but feel excited about where this interaction is going to go. 

Unknown: You’re mine, remember?  Unknown: Don’t test me prince(ss).  Unknown: It won’t Unknown: End very well Unknown: For you.  Unknown: … Unknown: Is that what you wanted to hear? 

In a sense, very much so. In another sense, now that you’re in touch with the man of your dreams (and now that you’ve begun to accept the reality of the situation), you have so many things you want to say. 

MC: Are you eating well? 

That’s a good place to start, right? 

Unknown: That’s none of your business.  Unknown: Pushy, aren’t we, cutie? 

Yeah, that figures. Maybe you should focus on talking him out of his revenge plot based on the false information that his cult leader has been feeding him. Then, you can worry about helping him take care of his physical health. 

MC: Can you call me?  MC: I think we have a lot to talk about.  Unknown: What’s the magic word? 

But he’s already calling you before you can begin to say ‘please.’

[doyozen]

WAFFLE HOUSE DATE WITH A NCT MEMBERRRRRRR WHOEVER YOU WANT MAYBE YANGYANG OR HAECHAN IDK HAVE A GOOD DAY MY LOVE 💗💕

HEHEH anything for my wife

“have you ever been to waffle house?”

your boyfriend asks you out of the blue, after the two of you had just been sitting in comfortable silence, in your own little bubbles while somehow still being present to each other. your legs were sprawled out over his and your head perked up from the side of his bed to look at him.

“um, no, i don’t think so? why?” you ask, both curiously and fearfully. your boyfriend never fails to amaze you with his ideas.

yangyang looks at you as if you’d grown two heads. “are you serious?! y/n…”

“why would i have been to waffle house? i thought it was only a south thing.” you question again in a tone that only furthers his disbelief.

“you literally have no idea what you’re missing,” he sighs, pulling out his phone and typing away at the google search bar, and you’re not close enough to see exactly what he typed.

his tongue pokes out between his lips in concentration while he scrolls through the app, silence again engulfing the room before he makes a sound of victory. “found it!”

you hum in a way that says ‘found what?’ without actually saying it, very entertained by the fact that he wasn’t about to let you not experience a waffle house.

a smirk pours over his lips and he turns his phone screen so it’s facing you, showing you the location of a waffle house just 15 minutes away from where the two of you were, your apartment. your brows perk up in shock, and you can’t believe you hadn’t known. all this time you could have tried waffle house.

“let’s go,” yangyang jumps up and you had no time to protest—you didn’t really want to protest, you were ready for the best chicken and waffles you would ever have and accompanied by your loving boyfriend. life couldn’t have been better.

you laugh at his excited hops down the hallway and out the front door after he swipes the car key from the trinket on the table just next to the doorway, all while you were still slipping on his shoes. the car ride felt longer than it actually was, and the two of you occupied yourselves by blasting kendrick lamar and screaming the lyrics like no other.

the boy parks the car once you pull up and practically jumps out, waiting for you to follow in a much calmer manner, then the two of you walk into the place together.

the atmosphere was so comfortable and the service was incredibly, you can feel yangyang smiling at you whime you look throught he menu. “yang, it is just a waffle house. you look like a crazy person right now.”

“baby’s first waffle house,” he playfully coos, ignoring everything you’d just said to pull out his phone. “i need to capture this moment.”

you withhold a groan of embarrassment and take a quick look around to ensure that knowing was watching your boyfriend acting like your mother. soon after, he turned the phone in your direction to show you the ugliest photo he could’ve possibly taken.

“fucks sake, man, why do you do me like this?”

“you look cute! what do you mean?” he insists, and you knew he wasn’t lying. you didn’t believe him whatsoever, but he truly thought the ugliest pictures of you were the cutest things to ever exists. “you’re so cute, shut up. i love this picture. new lockscreen.”

“please don’t do that.”

“too late.” he grins aggravatingly before looking back down at his phone, “so cute.”

[ickbite]

NEVER MET

2. She looks just like you!

Last. Masterlist. Next.

"mommy, i—i wanted to watch Hee but my tablet wo—won't work," Y/Ns five year old sobbed, her lip was pouted tapping her small, chubby fingers against the device.

Y/N and her daughter, jaeden, stood in the kitchen of their apartment that the mother had bought in Seoul. Y/N worked as a cafe waitress which didn't pay enough for an actual house but paid enough for just their small apartment, it was just the two of them though so it's not like it mattered.

"jae, baby, your tablet is just dead, if you put it on the charger, you can watch Hee in an hour, alright?" Y/N squatted down to her daughters level, grabbing the tablet and putting it on the nearest charger.

Who the fuck was Hee? Y/N had no clue what the kids watched these days, she was raised off of "the better shows;" invader zim, powerpuff girls, teen titans, etc. she was never too big on kids, even though she managed to take care of her own child for five years, and she did a pretty good job at it (if she says so herself).

"okay, uncle Soobin is coming over, okay? He'll be watching you while i'm at work," Y/N informed her daughter who wasn't paying attention, Jae was just mumbling nonsense while aggressively picking up a red marker and pressing it on the paper.

"i literally can't believe you're actually here,” Sunghoon sighed as he watched his three friends enter the cafe.

“You wanted us to, I have the evidence,” Heeseung shrugged.

“You have to sing, sir,” Kahei mumbled to the boy she was training, her and Y/N were taking turns teaching him the ways of the cafe.

“Yeah, Hee, sing,” Jake laughed, putting his hand up to his mouth to conceal his laugh.

Heeseung got out his camera, turning it on quickly and turning it towards the boy.

Sunghoon sighed, “welcome to Cafe Melody, how many?” He said with a smile (obviously forced).

“For three please,” Jay laughed out, the boys couldn’t get over how weird Sunghoon looked.

“Right this way,” Kahei stood up from her seat, walking the boys to a booth.

“Welcome to Cafe Melody, may I take your order?” Y/N had a smile on her face as she opened her notepad, taking the pen that was set behind her ear into her hand.

“Can I get the melodycakes?” Jay pointed to a picture of the red-colored pancakes that was on the menu.

“Got it, and y….. Heeseung?” Y/N lifted an eyebrow.

"you know her?" Jay whispered.

"she's an ex from high school."

"so how have you been doing since

we broke up? any good things?"

"actually, i've become a streamer—"

"streaming for all those years finally

paid off, huh?" Y/Ns smile visibly lit up,

even though she didn't like the man anymore, she was glad he achieved his dream.

"how've you been holding up?"

"i'm good, i live in an apartment nearby,

i have a daughter, this job pays well,

there's not much to tell about me, i'm

still the same soana as i was five years

ago."

Y/M knew she would regret telling her own childs father that she had a daughter but Jaeden was Y/N's greatest creation, of course she wanted to brag.

"you have a daughter?"

Y/N nodded, pulling out her

phone to show the two her lockscreen,

which was a picture of jae from her

fifth birthday. Y/N turned around to where she heard footsteps and saw Sunghoon sitting people at a table, “I have to go anyways, I’ll be back with your food.”’

Jake and Jay were flabbergasted, their mouths were parted as they waved Y/N make her leave.

"she looks exactly like you..." Jake whispered.

Watch was true, Jaeden looked almost identical to Heeseung.

"don't be stupid, Jake, obviously she doesn’t."

"did you ever have sex with the waitress?" Jay asked. true, the question that was meant to be a joke, but what took the two by surprise is when he refused to answer.

"WOAH, HEE—"

"shut up!"

"achoo!"

"are you okay, bunny?" Vivi asked, the girl who had just come back to the hostess booth.

"that's odd i hardly ever sneeze," Y/N mumbled, sniffling a few times before

walking to the designated group to

pass them their coffee.

"maybe someone's talking about you."

"don't be weird!"

———————

@isyluvr @rizz00 @deobitifull @jakesimsimcard

[s-s-painland]

The Mystery of Spain's Lockscreen

The subject of Spain’s lockscreen was something of a mystery that almost everyone wanted to answer too. France especially wanted to know, no needed to know. His easy going friend had never been secretive before. Spain had also been known to just leave his phone in random places, even needing to buy a new one a few times. Now, however, he was always mindful of where he left it and tended to panic briefly when he didn't have it in his hand or pocket. Not to mention! Spain only let his friends look at his screen after it was unlocked! So obviously whatever was on that lockscreen is either embarrassing or scandalous! And France lived for the drama, sure it might piss off Spain, but he’ll get a glimpse of that lockscreen if it's the last thing he’ll do!

Easier said than done it would seem. France had been at it for little over two weeks now. Obvious and sneaky attempts all failed to get him any more than a brief flash of color. Although, he would admit, he never really asked Spain what his lockscreen was. And so! France’s next great plan would be to just ask.

Patiently, our silly French protagonist bided his time for the right moment to ask. And soon that day came. On a usual ‘boys’ night with him, Spain, and Prussia he decided to corner Spain and ask, wanting to finally, finally get his answer.

“Heyyy~ Tony? Gotta question for you.” He purrs, sliding closer into his friend's bubble.

“Hmm?” Spain looks up from his menu with a smile and a tilt of his head. “What is it?”

“It’s been bugging me for a while now,” France pauses for the drama, “what is your lockscreen?” At his question Prussia finally looks up from his beer and looks to Spain expectantly.

“Oh! Oh! Me too! I wanna know!” Prussia leans across the table to get in on the ‘invade Antonio’s space’ program. The interrogatee goes still for a moment, surprised at the question. Spain lifts the menu to hide the bottom half of his face and glances at his face-down phone.

“Mmm..It’s y’know..” He trails off thinking of what he wanted to say as a hidden smile forms on his face. “It’s..something special is all.”

“That,” Prussia starts, “that didn’t answer shit.”

“I agree, what the hell does that mean?” France speaks up next scooting closer, blue eyes flicking down to the phone. Instead of explaining, Spain just shrugs and goes back to checking out the food options. France, annoyed and ten times more curious, slowly reaches out and goes to grab his friend’s phone.

Just as he started sliding it over to him a rough, tanned hand slams down on top of his wrist and squeezes lightly. The blond goes still and looks over at Spain in surprise.

“It would be appreciated if you’d just let it go.” Spain’s smile was warm and friendly as always, but his tone was cold and clipped. Shocked at this shift in personality, France can only nod dumbly and let go of the phone. Quickly Spain swipes it off the table and into his pocket. 

“Gracias.”

After that frankly terrifying failure, France had seemingly given up on satiating his curiosity. Sighing loudly he leans back in his assigned seat. The world meeting had ended a short while ago and he was contemplating what to do. Normally he’d torment tease England, but the brat had been quick to disappear on him recently, seemingly having better things to do than to argue uselessly. And strangely enough, Spain had gone and fucked off early today too. Which was pretty lame of him, in Prussia’s words.

Unintelligible Italian screeching was heard sharply over the low buzz of conversation. Which took France by surprise, he knew that screech.

Normally, Romano is one of the first to leave, especially if Spain isn’t there. Curious for a whole new reason, France gets up from his seat and stalks around the room searching for his temperamental entertainment.

It didn’t take long truthfully. With how loud Romano was being, all he had to do was wait for the Italian’s next string of curses. It was like playing a weird one sided form of marco polo. With a wide grin he sneaks up on Romano and plants a hand on his shoulder. The older twin jumped in surprise and whipped his head around with an angry scowl. 

“The fuck you want?”

“Nice to see you too Roma~” At his teasing, Romano’s scowl turned into a snarl.

“Easy easy~” France chuckled. “I was just curious as to why you’re still here.” France removes his hand from a tense shoulder. “Spain isn’t here after all.~”

“No shit,” Romano spits before turning to face the blond, arms crossing over his chest. “Shithead took-” The brunette cuts himself off for a moment before correcting his statement, “He went out on a date. And I didn’t wanna deal with him being all lovey dovey again.” Romano finishes with an exasperated roll of his eyes.

“A date?” France is scandalized. “He has a lover?! And he didn’t tell me??”

“Yeah, can’t imagine why.” The sarcastic comment goes ignored by its recipient. With a hand to his chest and a dramatic lean back against a table, France looks at his annoyed conversation partner.

“Do you know who? Do you know who has weaseled their way into my dear friend’s fragile heart!?” He knows that his dramatics were only frustrating the younger even more, but he hadn’t been able to annoy England recently so of course he’d do it to Romano.

“I do.” France perks up. Straightening he goes to open his mouth but is cut off by Romano. “I’m not telling you though. That bastard can deal with your meltdown. Also, I think it was the other way around.” After he finished, Romano turned around to go hunt his twin down again and try to convince Feli to let him stay the night (Also to do some more nagging). 

“Wait!! You live with Spain! So do you know what his lockscreen is? It’s been driving me crazy!” France hastily asks, leaping forward a few steps to reinvade Romano’s space. Romano, to his credit, didn’t punch or curse out France but instead sighed heavily, seemingly exhausted by this short interaction.

“Unfortunately.”

“What is it?”

“Gross. It’s gross and soft and weird.” And with that, Romano speeds off. Leaving France confused and insatiably curious all over again.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

I love the idea that Spain is aggressively protective of soft England. But he also can't help but brag endlessly to Romano, who couldn't care less and desperately wants Spain to shut up. But at the same time, he kinda enjoys England's company when the blonde is over at their place.

Idk I just want Romano to adopt England as his honorary older brother :/

Also also, the marking on England are a head cannon of mine, they're inspired by but not based on any proper Celtic knotwork/druid tattoos. You don't see them normally because he wears makeup to hide the ones on his face and neck, and obviously he wouldn't be caught dead in anything "too revealing" at the world meetings.

And please do me the favor of imagining with me the shit show that will happen when France finds out Spain and England are dating UwU

Maybe I should write that one next.....

[s-aturnes]

⠀⠀⠀ hi ! what do you want ? ─ choose from my menu !

☁️ ♡ ( 土星のメニュー )

⠀⠀⠀⠀𝟢𝟣 ☆ ⠀·⠀·⠀·⠀·⠀·⠀· bios

⠀⠀⠀⠀𝟢𝟤 ☆ ⠀·⠀·⠀·⠀·⠀·⠀· lockscreens

⠀⠀⠀⠀𝟢𝟥 ☆ ⠀·⠀·⠀·⠀·⠀·⠀· theme idea

gg's ─ bg's ─ random

[noirlevity]

I made a Tadaai March Calendar lockscreen! You can get it here.

I'm also open for commissions! My commission sheet is not updated yet but my terms and conditions remain the same apart from payment. I now require half paymey rather than full payment upfront. See more details here.

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