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#my favorite brush has been with me for so long that i don't know where i got it from. it's in file format from a long time ago lol.
draw-ren-draw · 2 days
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Avantris Comic Scripts #3 Often when I get ideas for comics, I break my panels into scripts first. These are less prose-y than fics but still contain dialogue and basic interactions. This is a jokey followup from the concept of my last one, be sure you're up to ep:56 to avoid spoilers!
Shaky Origins (spoilers up to ep: 56!) [A snippet exploring how Torbek may have met Carnival Lecroux based on my favorite theory: that The Duke/Gorebek is the original inhabitant of their shared body and it is Torbek who came second. A lot can happen to an cursed amnesiac. Especially around Carnival LeCroux.] * * * * *
It's a pleasant sunny day near Carnival LeCroux where a Bugbear stumbles out of the brush, blood on his hands, matted fur, drink on his lips and not a single thought in his head. In his claws he tightly grips a piece of torn parchment with chunks of it missing. He squints at it, willing the foreign characters to make sense. He can't remember a thing! Where is he? How did he get here? Who... is he?? He feels like he should be able to read this but the letters don't quite look right. They dance in front of his eyes as he desperately tries to pick out any of them. He points at each in turn, sounding them out. They almost seem to say something like… "Torr... Bek?" He murmurs it again and stares deeply at the writing. Parchment taking up all of his focus, he wanders forward into the carnival proper.
???" You there? You one of mine?"
The bugbear holds the paper, paralyzed as he tries to form one coherent thought, but all that comes out is the last thing he read. "T-T-orbek…?"
Kremy grimaces, smelling the boozy breathe on the bugbear, almost regretting his choice to interact with them at all. Kremy: "Ooh, you reek. You must be one of mine. Listen, what did you say, 'Torbek?' That your name? Whatever, look Turkbek just go use those long arms of yours and get those patrons down." With a wave of his staff, he gestures to the oval-shaped legally distinct 'herris' wheel that has clearly broken down full of riders. Kremy: "Drink break is over." Utterly stunned and still unable to get a grip on reality, the bugbear can do nothing but follow the alligator ushering him toward the broken down ride.
It doesn't take the bugbear long to fulfill the order and he tries again to collect himself as he stands amid the bustling carnival, confused once more. A Tabaxi comes jogging up Frost: "You, you're.. Torbek, was it?" The Tabaxi squints at something he has written on papers.
"Torbek.." the bugbear shakes, wide eyed, trying to cling to the one rational thought he can. So much is happening--!! Frost: "..Right, listen, Kremy just needs you to fill out these forms, I don't care if you don't have a resume, but all the new hires need to." Frost shoves the papers into his hands, continuing to hurry to the next pressing task in his clearly full day. He points one last time before he departs. Frost "Come turn them in later-!"
Hand now full of employment pages, 'Torbek' stumbles, starting to wander again. Who are all these people?? This paper says his name is Torbek, so is that his-- He walks past a goblin, who is manning a small stall. Gricko: "Oh hey! Kremy Finally hired another goblinoid! That's nice, always been waiting for that. Anyway it's me lunch break, gotta get a goblin surf n' turf if you know what I mean, ohhh I'll catch ya later!" He laughs, clapping Torbek on the back and shooting finger guns Gricko: "Thanks buddy!" Left alone at the stall, the bugbear sits down, ignoring everything but the papers in front of him. Undeterred his customers just help themselves to his game. He checks the paper again. It has Torbek on it. Is that his name? It must be, everyone else seems convinced of it! He takes a deep breathe, confirming it for himself with a nod. "…Torbek i-is. Torbek." ???: "Torbek huh? I've heard of weirder" He looks across his stall to see a tent of clowns, Chuckles shoots the bugbear a knowing look and gestures at the state of him. Chuckles: "More like 'Torn-bek', in more ways than one! Ah-hoho-hah! HEHhhheh... workshop it…" The Clown mumbles, stopping to write something down. Gideon enters from the right, we hear him before we even see him "Man, I hate walking past the clowns." Gideon: "Hey turkey or whatever!" The Bugbear jerks in place. "Come on, Kremy needs ya." With a groan, 'Torbek' follows obediently. It seems his day is not going to get any easier... * * The camera pans out * * From afar, a figure watches the once proud and ruthless Duke of Iron and Glass meandering around some shitty carnival like an absolute fool. Something had gone very wrong, or very, very right.
Bonus joke panel of Gid and Krem 'ironically' shacked up, chilling after hours: Kremy: I don't know how you pick em gid but at least you got a new hire this time. Gideon: [Internally] Huh did he? He must have, he was just that awesome.
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i-ate-the-rats · 1 year
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WOOOAAAH omg your art is so so cool it's crazy i love it so much. like oh my god.... ITS NUTS! IT'S AMAZING! can i ask what brush you used in the hobie + noir glasses comic? much love i hope you have a great day!!!!
clip studio brushes!!
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I'm REALLY bored, okay?
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muwapsturniolo · 2 months
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✯𝐅𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐦 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬✯
IN WHICH...Y/n is tired of Chris and his negligence towards her, so she decides to pull out her Freakum Dress.
WARNINGS.... mentions of cheating (it doesn't happen) drinking, manhandling, hair pulling, slapping, choking, spanking, pussy slapping, titty slapping, sucking on fingers, stomach bulging, raw sex, rough sex, dom! Chris, overstimulation. cum play, cream pie. I think that's it.
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"Stop i'm not ready yet!"
Y/n shouts as her friends pose in her body mirror for pictures. She quickly fixes her hair, removing her lace band and running a wide tooth comb through the curls. She smiles at herself in her vanity mirror before snapping her fingers towards her friends.
"Pass me my dress!"
Layla grabs the dress hanging on the hook and passes it to the robe-clad girl. Y/n gawked at the dress, a Cheshire smile on her face. She drops her robe and begins to slip the see-through material over her body.
The dress, if you could call it that, did little to nothing to cover her up. It was her favorite color (baby pink), and completely see-through. The lace material was sewn into roses and the front was held together by a very thin metal bar.
Her boobs were on display, the only thing covering them were the brown pasties on her nipples.
"Girl he is going to beat your ass!" Layla laughed pulling the dress down a bit to cover the girl's ass. Y/n slaps her hand away and smacks her lips.
"I don't care, he should be acting right!" She exclaims in annoyance as she checks herself out in the mirror.
The whole purpose for her going out tonight was because Chris had been neglecting her, and she was fed up. In her opinion she doesn't ask him for much, really just wanting his love and affection, and she hasn't been receiving that. She knows Chris has to work, but he's been brushing her off, ditching her to hang out with his friends, leaving to film and not coming home until 5 am, they haven't even had sex in two weeks! She was tired of being left in the house alone for too long, so she called up her girls, pulled out her freakum dress, and started getting ready.
"Exactly! Since he wants to act up, you should too! It's been a minute since we all went out anyway, the streets are yelling for us!" her friend Thalia proclaimed as she sipped her twisted tea.
After she slips on her Playboy heels and takes a few pictures with her girls, the group leaves the home, ready to take on the night.
The whole ride Y/n was reading Chris's texts, smirking when she saw him frantically asking where she was going. He ended up calling her and she quickly declined the call, putting their messages on DND and turning the music up in the car.
It's not long before the group arrives at the club. Drinks were immediately purchased thanks to a few guys who found the group attractive, wanting to bag at least one of the girls for the night and rock their world.
One of the boys made it a mission to lay it on thick with Y/n, staying close to her and never her go without a drink. She knew what he wanted, with the way he kept looking her up and down licking his lips, the way his eyes lingered on her chest, how he did a double take when he mistook her skin-colored thong as her being underwear-free, it was obvious what he was looking for.
"You know, your outfit is really nice," he whispers in her ear, both his hands planted firmly on her waist. She giggles and rolls her eyes, pulling back to glance at him.
"Yeah?" She questions as she bats her lashes. He nods and leans down, attempting to catch her lips with his. Y/n ducks the kiss, moving her head to the side.
She finds this whole interaction hilarious.
This guy whose name she doesn't even care to know, is trying so hard to get her attention, attempting to lure her into bed with him. little does he know, Chris is going to be the one to tear this dress off of her tonight.
But little did Y/n know, her friends were posting pictures and videos on their privet stories, and Chris saw all of them.
She was only made aware when she felt herself being pulled back into someone's chest, their breath fanning over her ear.
"I suggest you walk your ass out of here and get the fuck in the car."
She smirks to herself and turns around, throwing her arms over Chris's shoulders. "I don't want to leave, derrick is buying me another drink." She purposely whines. She can tell by the way his eyes narrow that he's fed up with her antics.
One of his hands grips her hair while the other grips her jaw, his face inching closer to hers. Before he can open his mouth to put her in her place, another voice is heard.
"Get your hands off my girl bro!"
Y/n is yanked away from Chris and pulled into 'Derricks' hold, a drink being placed in her hands.
Chris's usual bright blue eyes were already a stormy blue, but seeing this asshole touch his girl has his eyes teetering on the edge of grey. "Your girl?" Chris raises a brow and has an angry scowl on his face.
Y/n leisurely sips her drink, watching the heated interaction as if it were a rerun of her favorite show.
"Yeah, my girl!" Derrick exclaims, his grip tightening on Y/n's waist.
"Do you know that your girl bounces on my dick every night?" Chris deadpans. Derricks tenses and Y/n rolls her eyes.
Chris was never one to be afraid of voicing their sex life. If he could give a TED talk about it, he would.
Chris glowers at 'Derrick', daring him to say something. He takes the hint and drops his hand from Y/n's waist, walking away without a word. Chris's eyes land on Y/n, the two holding such an intense gaze, that she results to looking away.
Chris takes a menacing step forward, grabbing her jaw and forcing her to look at him. "Finish your drink, and then we are going home." He demands, his voice penetrating.
"What if I don't want to go home?"
Chris's face becomes choleric, his eyes finally turning grey. He snatches her forward and throws the drink on the ground, not caring about the glass scattering across the club floor.
Y/n breath hitches, as the hand on her jaw travels to her throat, squeezing the sides tightly.
"Get. The Fuck. In. The Car. NOW!" He doesn't even give her a chance to walk herself, simply grabbing her arm in an iron-like grip and dragging her through the club.
She stumbles as he takes long and fast strides, the two of them making it to the car in record timing.
Despite Chris being angry with her, he still opens the door, smacking her ass harshly in the process of her crawling in. She yelps in shock, turning to give him a dirty look, but she's met with the passenger door slamming in her face.
She grumbles to herself as he climbs in the car, quietly starting the engine and driving off.
The ride was quiet for the most part, the only sounds being the busy streets of California.
They soon make it home, y/n stumbling due to the multiple drinks she had. Chris watches with dark and low eyes as she leans against the wall to take her heels off. Y/n can feel his hungry gaze burning into the back of her head, but she ignores it, choosing to walk into the bedroom.
She makes it into the bedroom, walking towards the closet to grab clothes, but she doesn't make it that far. Chris is quick to grab a fistful of her hair, wrapping his hand in the brunette curls as he pushes her down on the bed.
A mix of a yelp and a gasp exits her throat as his hand comes down hard on her ass, leaving a burning sensation on the jiggling flesh. "You think it's funny to go out of the house looking like this? Huh?" He doesn't give her a chance to answer, slapping her ass once again.
"You think it's funny letting another guy touch all over you like you're his? Letting him buy you drinks?" Another smack is given.
"I think I'm hilarious actu-MMPH!" Chris cuts her off by shoving her face into the comforter.
"Shut the fuck up!" He uses his free hand to hike her waist up, her back arched and face still shoved into the blankets. He goes to yank her underwear down, but stops seeing the damp patch seeping through the skin-colored material.
"You're wet sweetheart-" He takes his ring and index finger, using both digits to rub over the damp material, spreading her wetness around even more. Despite her eyes being closed, she still manages to roll her eyes back, letting out a shakey breath at the feeling of finally being touched.
"-listen to yourself." He demands, his fingers still working her through the underwear. The only thing the two can hear is her wetness moving around, making an erotic sloshing noise. "What are you wet from, hm?"
Y/n manages to lift her head, her body still leaning back into his touch,
"Derrick."
Chris is quick to flip her around, Y/n yelping as his hand slaps the folds between her legs. He loops his fingers through the underwear and tears them off of her, flinging the material somewhere in the room. He roughly shoves two fingers into her seeping hole, immediately thrusting and curling them. Y/n moans at the rough pleasure she's receiving, feeling all the built-up sexual frustration finally being taken care of.
"You're such a fucking whore, telling your boyfriend you're wet from another guy. He didn't even touch you. Are you that desperate and touch starved you get wet from a guy smiling at you?"
She whimpers and arches her back from his degrading words.
"Pathetic"
Chris yanks his finger away and slaps her glistening pussy once more before shoving his wet fingers deep into her mouth. Y/n chokes and gags, her eyes clenching shut and burning as tears form in her eyes. She opens her eyes and stares up at Chris as she manages to suck on his fingers.
He pulls his fingers away from her mouth, trailing them down her chest as she pants heavily. Suddenly, he tears the thin lace material from her body.
"Chris-Shut the fuck up!" He slaps her across the face and smashes his lips against hers. His hands find their way to her breasts, tweaking and twisting at her nipples. She whimpers into the kiss, the stimulation of her nipples going right to her core. She bucks her hips, begging for any type of friction. Chris smirks into the kiss, pulling away and hiding his face in her neck, biting and sucking at the warm and salty skin.
"You want me to fuck you? I thought you wanted Derrick?" He teases, using one of his hands to discreetly pull down his sweats and boxers. Y/n mewls pathetically at his words, "You, I want you! Chris ple-" her jaw drops open and her hands fly to his back, digging her nails into his skin.
Chris grunts feeling her warm and wet gummy walls clamp around him. He doesn't waste a single second in snapping his hips against hers, the sound of skin slapping quickly filling the room. He grunts as he sits up on his knees, pulling her closer by her thighs to go deeper.
Chris pulls his bottom lip in between his teeth, his fingers leaving prints on her plush thighs. He watches as Y/n writhers in pleasure, her body jerking with each thrust. He looks down at where their bodies connect, but he notices something, something that unlocks this primal urge in him.
He allows one of his hands to leave her thigh and pick her head up, forcing her into an upright position. He angles her head down, forcing her to look at the bulge in her stomach.
This is a first for both of them. Chris always fucks her deep, but not deep enough to the point where he can see himself in her stomach
"look at the shit-fuck-" he uses his free hand to press down on the mound, grinning wildly as Y/n sobs at the feeling.
He lets go of her, allowing her head to drop back down on the bed. He throws her legs over his shoulder, leaning forward and basically bending her in half. He wraps both hands around her throat, pistoning his hips at a brutal pace.
Y/n is in heaven, this is all she has been wanting for the past two weeks. Due to his hands being wrapped around her throat, the only noises falling from her mouth were small whistling noises mixed with wheezing. Her eyes roll back and Chris lets out a dry laugh.
He lets go of her throat, watching as she gaps for air, but his thrusting never stops. " That jackass-fuck-he can't fuck you like this could he?" Y/n is too cock drunk and busy trying to breathe properly to answer, causing Chris to slap her breast.
"Answer me mama. You were all talk earlier, run your mouth like you always do."
Just like before, Y/n doesn't answer.
Chris growls and pulls out, flipping her on her hands and knees before shoving himself right back inside of her. Her back arches upward, looking like a cat stretching. Chris shoves her back down onto the bed, grabbing both of her hips and yanking her back into his thrusts.
She hasn't even had one orgasm yet and she's already overstimulated. Not being able to handle it, she reaches back and pathetically attempts to slow him down.
"C-Chris wa-Stop fucking running and take it!" He swats her hand away, shoving her head back into the blankets. Her legs kick wildly, almost as if she's throwing a tantrum. The whole bed is shaking and scratching at the floor from the brute force of his thrusts. he's shocked the mattress hasn't fallen through the wooden bed frame yet.
By this point, Y/n is sobbing from the pleasure and pain. Her once flawlessly done makeup was ruined. Her lipstick is smudged all around her mouth, even on the blankets. Her mascara and eyeliner dripped down her face creating a stream of black salty tears.
"C-close!" she sobs out, her body shaking.
Chris grunts and yanks her back by her hair, her hands shakily holding her up.
"fuck- whose pussy is this?" She moans loudly in response, her fingers gripping the white bedding tightly.
"Tell me whose pussy this is, or you're not cumming."
"Yo-fuck!" She yelps as Chris starts swiping along her clit, drawing figure eights. "Tell me baby, you know I always want you to finish, but if I have to leave you hanging I will." He rasps out. Chris is on the brink himself. He knows this is going to be messy, her juices are already running down her thighs and there's a thick white cream sitting on the base of his dick and abdomen.
"Oh fuck, it's yours-Chris Chris Chri-" Y/n shakes violently as her orgasm rips through her, a loud scream falling out of her mouth as her juices splash onto the bed.
Chris moans loudly and finally lets go, filling her up to the brim. He lets go of her hair, allowing her face to fall forward and back into the bed. Both of them stay in place, panting heavily. Chris slowly pulls out, watching with deranged eyes as his dick falls limp and his seed begins to drip out and onto the comforter underneath them. He bites his lip seeing her hole clench around nothing. He takes two fingers and smears the creamy residue around, nothing but love and possessiveness swarming in his chest.
He turns her onto her back, settling between her legs. He wastes no time and dives in, licking and lapping at her folds like a dehydrated dog. Y/n whines, trying to push his head away from her aching folds. eventually, he does pull away, their mess all over his chin and some of it in his mouth.
He moves to hover over her, forcing her mouth open and quickly spitting their mess into her mouth.
"Next time you decide to wear a fucking dress like that, remember this." He shuts her jaw, Y/n immediately swallowing the creamy liquid and spit.
He picks her up and carries her to the bathroom, getting ready to run the both of them a bath.
As his back is turned to her, a small delirious smile makes its way onto her face,
Thank god for her Freakum Dress.
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𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 🍑: @mattslolita @thenickgirl @guccifrog @luverboychris @zayyluvz @mrsmiagreer @chrisssluttywaist @78yaz @hoesformatt @freshloveforthefit @3lizaluvs @mattsturniolosgirlfriend @jetaimevous @luxy-nyx @ts-is-my-spirt-animal @iihrtsturniol0 @idontexistman @katw4shereee @madisturn @starlace111 @zivall @adoreindie @imwetforyourmom @sturnsxplr-25 @sturncakez @theyluvme-2315 @moonk1ss3d @@babyalliah-777 @sturniololol @oliviasturniolo21 @ariithereyet @blahbel668
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moonstruckme · 10 months
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hi gorgeous!!
could i request poly!marauders with a reader who has been avoiding them a bit? she’ll text and call them, but not see them in person? maybe she tells them she’s really busy and they finally get her to come over or maybe catch her somewhere out n about and find her with a ~mysterious~ black eye? she finally ends up telling them abt it and she’s so embarrassed by how she’s got it and didn’t want them to fret over her? they poke fun of her a little, but it ends with hugs or cuddles on the couch?
(this is so definitely not self indulgent!! i absolutely do NOT have a black eye currently because i was wearing fluffy socks and tripped over my own foot and went flying into a doorknob!!! pfffftt, what kind of idiot would you have to be to pull that off…)
Hope the black eye you don't have is healing well babe!
cw: injury/bruise
poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 984 words
“She said she was too busy to even come over for breakfast this morning,” Remus frets. “I don’t know if we should be bothering her.” 
“She’s putting too much on herself,” James says certainly, can-do attitude in place and a bag of your favorite pastries in hand. “She won’t let herself relax, and it’s our job to help with that.” Remus only chews his lip, so he looks to Sirius for backup. “Right, Pads?” 
“Sure.” Sirius shrugs. “I don’t know, I still think she’s avoiding us. Any plan that gets us to see her sounds good to me.” 
“Well, don’t talk like we’re about to bust down her door,” Remus says, rolling his eyes as they come to a stop in front of your place.
“Course not.” Sirius grins, and slams his fist extra-loud against your door to make Remus squirm. James smothers a laugh when he hears a curse from inside, the sound of something falling to the floor, and then shuffling footsteps headed in their direction. 
“Hi.” You sound surprised, half of your face visible in the crack of the door. That’s…oddly shy, for you, and the first threads of concern begin to wind their way around James’ ribcage. Has he or one of the others done something to upset you? Maybe Sirius is right, and you have been avoiding them. “What’re you guys doing here?” 
“Hi, sweetheart.” James gives you his most guileless smile, holding up the bag of pastries. “You’ve been working so hard lately, we thought we’d bring you a treat.” 
You all but melt against the doorframe, the eyebrow James can see scrunching in a cute pout. “Aw, thank you.” 
“Can we come inside for a bit?” he asks, but Sirius is already pushing at the door, nudging you out of the way as he invites himself in. 
You flinch away from the door as Sirius says, “Christ, angel, we haven’t seen you in so long I’d begun to think you were…” he trails off, and Remus and James both hurry in behind him to see why. The half of your face that had been obscured a second ago by the doorframe (intentionally obscured, James realizes now) is marred by a dark, purple-and-yellow bruise. 
Remus inhales softly, all three of your boyfriends nearly frozen in place. 
Sirius has gone tense all over, but his voice is gentle. “How’d that happen, baby?”
It doesn’t help matters that you get so clearly anxious at the question. “I—um, okay.” You look at them abashedly, shoulders gravitating towards your ears. “It’s not as bad as it looks, but you can’t get mad.” 
Sirius sucks his teeth, eyes darkening. James knows his mind is running through all the various people you could be asking them to not get mad at for doing this to you; he’s thinking along similar lines. “Why would we be mad?” Sirius asks, noncommittal.
You brush a strand of hair behind your ear, going to sit on the couch. “I, uh. I ran into the kitchen and hit myself on the cabinet door.” 
Remus hisses through his teeth. “Fuck, honey, the corner?” He sits down next to you, angling your face towards the light. “Is that where this little scrape is from?” His thumb brushes over the small cut with painful tenderness, and James watches with satisfaction as you go so soft you nearly forget to answer him. You give a nod, and Remus hums sympathetically. 
“Jesus, babe.” James leans closer to peer at it. “That’s gotta hurt.” 
Sirius pouts at you, sitting on the back of the couch. “Why would you think we’d be mad about that, darling?” 
The look you give Remus is guilty enough that he withdraws his hand, raising his eyebrows at you. 
“You know how you tell me not to run in my fuzzy socks?” you ask him. 
Remus’ lips twitch, but he narrows his eyes at you sternly. “I do.” 
You shrink away. “Well, I was sort of sliding around in those when it happened.” 
Remus rolls his eyes, but he lets his lips twist into a begrudging half-smile. “Christ. Learned your lesson now?” 
“Learned not to leave cabinet doors open when I do it,” you say, and James tugs you to his front protectively as Remus lets loose an appalled sound that’s somewhere between exhale and laugh. 
“Our poor sweetheart,” he coos, pressing a kiss to the unharmed skin beside your bruise. “I can’t believe you avoided us for days just because you didn’t want Remus to be upset with you. You’re rivaling Sirius for dramatics with that one, lovie.” 
“Oi.” Sirius jabs at your side meanly with his foot. “Don’t start taking my titles. There can only be one master of theatrics in this relationship.”
You draw your knees to your chest, entirely in James’ lap now, and he suspects you’re snuggling closer to him because you prefer his coddling to the other boys’ teasing. He’s more than happy to indulge you, brushing his lips ever so gently over the colorful skin by your eye and giving you a good squeeze with his arms around your middle. 
Sirius makes a soft pitying sound. “That really looks awful. Did you at least put ice on it?” 
You blink up at him, and James wants to chide you and smother you with love at the same time. Remus looks like he feels the same, the exasperation of his sigh diminished greatly by the fondness in his look as he gets up. “You’ve got a pack of peas in the freezer, don’t you, love?” 
You confirm, and Sirius takes Remus’ place on the couch, squinting his eyes at you playfully. “You’re not allowed to avoid us when you’ve hurt yourself ever again. Clearly, you can’t handle it on your own.” 
You seem like you could disagree, but James takes the opportunity to attack you with kisses again, and you don’t protest much after that.
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007reid · 11 months
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sub spence returning from prison :( hasn’t been inside for way too long and he’s extra whiny and sensitive </3 and reader is usually more teasing but after being so long she’s just soft and giving to everything he desires
FERAAALLLL!!! enjoy hun🤍
dreams. spencer reid (18+)
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spencer reid x fem!reader, 3k (it got a bit out of control...)
summary: exactly what the prompt says😻 tiny bit of angst cuz it’s post prison spencer, cmon
warnings: sub spencer x dom fem!reader, masturbating (fem), unprotected sex, p in v, handjob, fingering, riding, creampie, cum play kinda. just spencer being a pathetic lil boy. tell me if i missed anything!
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spencer’s been more closed off, and you get it. you do. you had expected more excitement, more of the banter and things to go back like normal like it was before it happened but you know it’s all wishful thinking. it hurts, to accept that your spencer isn’t really your spencer anymore, it’s that damned prison’s spencer; not your sweet spencer who wears scarves and has christmas lights in his eyes all year long but the prison’s spencer who looks half dead and trudging through everyday miserable.
you know he’s trying his best too, and that part hurts the most. he tries to smile for you, tries to replace all the pieces and put it back but no piece fits. you keep reassuring yourself. baby steps. you’ll make it work. you’ll have to.
today has been your favorite day yet, and the day has barely even started. instead of being on the other side of the bed, curling up into himself and staying as far away from you as possible, you wake up to find his head buried in your neck with his arm thrown over your stomach, curls tickling your jaw.
“im afraid to touch you, y/n,” spencer had admitted, his first week back. he looked guilty and ashamed. “you’re too clean for me to touch. my hands are dirty. they’re always dirty.”
still sleepy, you reach for his hand and intertwine your fingers, tracing the skin of his wrist. at the touch, spencer immediately jolts awake and backs himself up before the sleepiness even clears from his face. your boy used to be able to sleep through turbulence on the plane and your heart breaks at the anxiety in his eyes.
his breathing is rushed as he settles down, unconsciously scooting further away from you as you try latching onto the sleeve of his shirt. "sorry, i'm sorry," you whisper over and over. "i'm sorry honey, i didn't mean to--"
"i know you didn't," spencer snaps and you backtrack. his face crumbles and he hides his head in his hands. the table turns and sorry's falls out his mouth like rain drops during a storm. "i don't mean to snap, i just got scared, in the cell i..." he trails off, frowning at himself. ever since he's got back he refuses to tell you about anything that's happened in there, stopping and cutting himself off whenever he accidentally does and you guess it's for the better. "'m sorry." he brush away the sheets and gets off the bed. "i'll be right back."
you know better than to follow as he heads to the bathroom, door closing shut and locked behind him. you stare at the dent in the mattress that's finally there after sleeping alone for three months and hops off the bed yourself, going to make coffee.
***
spencer starts relaxing as the day goes on, not by much but you notice it. he probably feels bad for what happened in the morning and just wants to make it up to you by being what you want him to be; soft and affectionate like he used to and finally letting himself to touch you, linger his fingers over your arm as he passes you while you make breakfast and sitting close enough to where you both touch.
it's night, and you're in a simple tank, ready for bed. spencer's head is in your lap and the tv plays a random show but your attention is on smoothing out the spencer's curls, tugging and pulling until you get a purring spencer reid in your lap, eyes closed and humming contently to himself.
"you tired yet?" you ask, eyes on the tv. spencer nuzzles his head closer to your stomach.
"mhm. no."
"kay," you dip your head down, sparing a kiss on the pouting boy's lips, aiming for a light, sweet peck because spencer's not really ready for anything else otherwise but you're surprised when he starts to deepen it, teeth nagging at your bottom lip, asking. out of breath, you pull back and he sits up from your lap, crashing into you again and he's insistent, needy as little pants fall from his lips as you press him against the couch, climbing on top of him.
"missed you so much," spencer breathe, hands closing around your hips and tugging you closer. legs positioned outwards from either side of his torso, he moans into your mouth when the heat of your clothed pussy rub gently against his hardening cock and you miss this almost as much as you miss him, spending all three months either too depressed to do anything or cumming from your fingers and then hugging his pillow later.
you run your thumb over the spit on his lip, crooning. "look so pretty," you whisper, rutting against his hips. spencer whines, soft and desperate, a hand hesitantly coming up to grope at your breast, sandwiching your hardening nipple between his fingers. "been so long, spence, you forgot how to touch me?" you tease at the unsureness and awkwardness in the way he moves to touch you. spencer shakes his head frantically.
"dreamt about you," he says eagerly, pressing his lips on the side of your mouth and then all over your face. "every night. missed you so so bad. fuck, y/n," he gasps as you start grinding on him, impatient.
you kiss him hard, pussy clenching and unclenching around nothing as you feel yourself getting wetter and wetter, just having him like this, pliant and here and not away. "what," you say, between kisses, each one messier and rushed than the last. "what did you dream about?" spencer whines. "hm?"
he falters, face getting visibly red under the dim lighting. he mumbles something under his breath, and you sneak a hand between your pressed bodies, palming him through his navy owl pajamas. "speak up, honey," you say, and spencer squirms, bucking his hips forward into your palm.
"i dreamed a lot of dreams," he says in a rush, breathing heavily, cheeks rosy. it's not the answer you're looking for. you tut.
"you know that's not what i asked, spence," you say, hand on his jaw as you push his face up to look at you. his eyes are blown wide, pupils dilated and lips red and parted, looking the spitting image of what you've been fingerfucking yourself to for months.
he whimpers, words stuck to his throat, embarrassed. you press your hand harder against his dick and his head knocks into your shoulder, burying his face in your neck, too humiliated to look at you in the eyes. "i dreamed you touched yourself and rode me and said i couldn't touch and couldn't cum but i did anyway 'cause i'm fucking pathetic," he confesses against your skin. "woke up and couldn't even touch myself cause of my cellmates and i--" your hands slip under his shirt and spencer does a full body shiver, your fingers hot against his skin.
"does that mean you haven't cum since you've been in there baby?" spencer ignores you, too distracted as you sway your hips against his rock hard cock. "spencer,"
he whines, and that's enough of an answer for you. "my poor baby," you coo, digging your fingers into his hair. "so wind up."
"need you," he whimpers, hands frantically clawing at your side, trying to touch as much of you as possible. "needa be in you, please. please,"
"in bed baby," you kiss him sweetly, wrapping your legs around his waist as he stands, supporting you with only one arm. you leave hickies on his neck while you wait for him to reach the bedroom, running your tongue over his skin to soothe them.
he lays you on the bed gently, tall frame towering over you as he sets you down but spencer still cowers under you despite it all. you remove your shirt and shorts as he settles down and when you turn around, he's staring, unabashedly, cock making an obvious dent in his thin pajamas, and the opportunity basically presented itself.
you start to slowly spread your legs, propping yourself up with your elbows and trailing a hand between your legs to rest at your lace panties. a devilish smirk on your face as spencer’s adam’s apple bobs visibly, brown eyes hungry and waiting as you press slight pressure on your clothed clit, knocking your head back.
spencer scrambles up to a sitting position, anxiously looking at you. “y/n,” he says, voice unusually high, flustered. “don’t—“ his voice breaks off as you start moving your fingers in circle-eights, sighing to yourself. “don’t—come here.”
you shoot him a warning look when he starts coming closer. spencer freezes. “thought this was what you wanted, pretty boy,” you purr. there is already a patch of wetness in your panties, and you linger your fingers at the waistband.
“not now,” spencer whines, insistent. “i’m so hard, wanna be in you so bad, please,” and despite how much prison had hardened him up, turned him into an entirely different person, spencer is still luckily the same in bed; easy to wind up and begs to get what he wants. too often it doesn’t work in his favor. tonight it might.
“you know what to do, baby boy,” you tell him, nudging your underwear off and tossing it somewhere in the room. spencer backs off, curling up into himself as his eyes remain pasted on you, watching. staring. you’re soaked, rubbing slowly at your clit, the air cool against your pussy. you keep an eye open, watching spencer for his ticks and reactions and it turns you on even more, seeing how desperate and needy he is, trying to rut against the sheets as you dip a finger inside yourself.
“none of that spence,” you tut. “you know that’s not the rules.”
he sighs frustratedly, stopping in his tracks, ever the good and obedient boy for you. you continue to play with yourself, slowly working up to two fingers and pressing down on your clit with your thumb, hearing spencer’s indiscreet panting from the other side of the bed as he watches, puppy eyes in full effect as he silently begs to have you closer. you whine as you curl your fingers inside yourself, and spencer’s just about had it.
“y/n,” he pleas, sounding like he’s about to cry. “i—it’s hurts, i wanna…”
you take pity on him. you’re all stripped naked and he’s still fully clothed, down to the halloween themed socks. “what do you want honey?”
“i—“ spencer gasps, squirming on the sheets. “uuhhgg…gonna cum i—“
“you gonna cum just from watching me touch myself?” you ask, amused. fair enough, he hasn’t cum in three months and you’re surprised he’s not permanently hard at this point. “gonna cum in your pants like a teenager spence? how pathetic are you?”
“y/n!” his voice trembles and he sounds so sweet, so needy for you and you give in. it’s hard not to, and you keep up at the act but at the end of the day spencer always gets what he wants. the begging strategy does do him some good.
you crawl over to him, placing yourself on his lap and he’s extremely hard beneath you, cock curving up from the thinness of his pajamas, getting a real good look at him. his eyes are rimmed red and tears are threatening to spill out and you lift his shirt over his head. “god youre so fucking beautiful,” you throw his shirt off the bed, tilting his head up to look at you. spencer groans at your words, hands immediately going to touch you, roaming your bare skin and nails digging into your waist.
“missed you,” he whimpers, lips at your neck as you get his bottoms off. “want this everyday, think of you everyday, fuck—“
“so hard for me honey,” you coo, stroking him through his underwear and then getting that off too. his cock, finally naked presses against his stomach, is a raging red, beads of precum leaking at the tip. “prettiest boy,” you whisper in his ear, taking his cock in your hand, smearing the precum over his cock as soft whimpers falls out of his mouth, inching closer to your touch.
“y/n,” he says, and it seems like it’s the only thing he can say. “y/n, y/n—“ you start to grind on him, sliding your pussy against his cock and spencer turns delirious, squeezing at your hips and wanton sounds coming out of his mouth, begging and cursing for nothing at all. the head of his cock rubs against the entrance of your pussy and the both of you moan, hips collapsing into each other.
his fingers finds their way to your entrance and begins prodding, and you whine as his middle finger slides in, thick and just right and it’s the feeling you’ve been trying to replicate but can’t get. “you’re so tight yn, fuck,”
“add another finger, spence,” you demand. spencer does, and the stretch burns only temporarily and you whine, wrapping your arms around his neck and reeling yourself in so you can be as close to him as possible. lifting your hips, you start to fuck yourself on his fingers, impatient and horny and spencer is looking at you with fucking stars in his eyes, awed.
you never get too emotional or whiny during sex, that’s mostly all spencer but you can’t help bury your face in the dip of his shoulder blades and muffle your high moans against his skin, just glad that your spencer is back and this isn’t a cruel dream. spencer pulls his fingers out and you let out a displeased sigh. reaching down, you take spencer’s cock in your hands, smeared all over the tip with his precum and your wetness and spencer’s breath hitches in this throat, nearly jumping away at your touch.
you slowly guide his dick to your entrance, lifting your hips and all spencer does is watch, getting special treatment as you do all the work, slapping his dick against your pussy, eliciting a filthy sound from the both of you before rubbing the head of his cock against your open pussy. before he’s even in, spencer is already making these ridiculous noises, begging and panting and whimpering, hair falling into his eyes and sweat beading on his nose.
you quickly swoop down in a brave motion, bottoming out and it hurts, only temporarily before the stretch eases into pleasure and you miss it, miss him, so damn much and spencer’s already in another fucking world, nails digging at your hips.
“fuck, fuck, y/n—“ he whimpers weakly, chanting your name like a mantra as you start to move your hips, riding yourself on his cock. you know he can’t last any longer and you’re surprised he’s even managed to last this long so far, pulling out until your pussy is clenching at the tip of his cock and slamming yourself into his hips, and everytime time you do this spencer makes the prettiest noises, coughing up the moans struggling to come out of his mouth and tear tracks staining his cheeks, begging to cum.
“please, please yn don’t do that,” you do it again. “i…i—pull off, i’m gonna cum i’m not gonna last!” he cries, cock pulsing inside you and you know he’s not lying. you can read spencer’s body in the dark or light like it’s your own and you can feel your orgasm steadfastly approaching too, the heat building gradually at the pit of your stomach.
you start going faster, dropping yourself down to his cock and bottoming out at every thrust, his cock finding the tip of your spot every time. “yn,” spencer repeats. “gonna cum, stop please i—hnnnggg—“
“cum in me, sweet boy,” you press a kiss on his jaw, locking your fingers on his curls to pull his head back by his hair, making him look at you in the eye. spencer arguably looks the prettiest when he cums, and you never miss the show.
“i…what?” debaunched and fucked-dumb, it takes a second for spencer to understand what you mean. “you sure?”
“shut the hell up spence,” you groan, bringing him closer, chests flat against each other. you keep going at your thrusts, slipping a hand to rub at your soaked, swollen clit as spencer’s moans get higher and higher until his entire body is trembling, his eyes squeezed shut. “fucking—cum in me, honey.”
you know the exact moment when he cums because you did too, his face scrunching up in what almost looks like pain as you start to feel something warm bleed inside you and it feels like fucking heaven. your walls spasm around his cock, milking him as you orgasm, squeezing your intertwined fingers for dear life.
when you’ve both gained back your breaths, spencer lightly stroking the skin of your stomach where he can press and feel himself beneath of and you pressing more hickies on his chest and neck, you speak. “was that as good as your dream?”
your voice comes out more distorted than you thought, raspy and your throat is slightly sore. spencer laughs quietly.
“a hundred times better,” he’s quick to respond, earnest. “no brainer.” when you pull off of him and collapses by his side, he leaks out of you, wetting and trailing down your inner thighs.
spencer slides a hand there and slowly starts to finger his cum back into you lazily and you open up your legs for him, loose and wet from the orgasm. “you’re so full of me,” he says, sounding pleased with himself. his fingers scissors you open wider, patiently fucking you with them. you hold his other hand as spencer kisses you. “mine. all mine.” he presses down on your clit and you shake, your second orgasm hitting you like a soft wave. he keeps the pressure there despite you trying to close your legs, shivering all over, nipples hard and stomach rising. “all mine.”
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kiame-sama · 8 months
Text
Drag Me to Hell- (Yandere!Alastor x Chubby!Reader) pt. 3
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Warnings; spoilers for episode 5 of Hazbin Hotel, yandere relationship, yandere temper, yandere behavior, toxic relationship, Alastor is not fond of disobedience, don't make deals with demons,
~~~~~~~~
"Good talk, chum!"
Alastor hummed as he moved towards the shadows, leaving behind a shaking and terrified Husker. There were many words that could be used to describe Alastor and none were more fitting than terrifying.
None knew this better than you.
"Husker," you started, emerging from where you had been waiting down the hall, "are you okay?"
The hellcat tried to pull himself together quickly and brush you off, but his shaking betrayed how truly afraid he was. When Alastor wanted to put terror into others, he didn't need to work very hard to accomplish his goal.
"Why the Hell d'you care? You're his fuckin' favorite, the fuck you know about it?"
You knew he was lashing out to protect himself, but the words almost managed to make you flinch. Luckily for the both of you, you didn't and you kept a level head. If he had seen... Still, you wanted to try and comfort the fellow lost soul ensnared by your eternal captor.
"Husker, listen to me."
Something about your firm tone made the demon pause, an almost confused and unsettled expression on his face. It was rare that you became so serious and pleading with anyone, let alone tried to actually talk to anyone for extended periods of time. Something about your tone made him want to take whatever you were going to say seriously.
"You may think you know the limits of his patience but you don't. I know them. I have seen more than you know and have been by his side for longer than you may expect. I can never share these things. I can never tell anyone what I have heard and seen. Those memories are not my secrets to share. But I can tell you some of the terms of my contact, and I hope you understand and take heed."
You were choosing your words carefully, knowing that you could only say so much before the fine-print of your contract with Alastor silenced you. Parroting one of the key lines of your contract even as you navigated your way through the red-tape and fine print. Alastor made sure to create a rather finely crafted contract to outline your deal with him and you had plenty of time to read over it again and again.
"Expected and Required are the same thing. I am expected to remain by Alastor's side until he doesn't want me to be. I am expected to do what is asked of me by Alastor and no one else. I am expected to keep what I see and hear a secret unless Alastor wishes for me to speak on the matter. I am expected to remember the primary terms of every contract I have seen. And I have to say, Husker, I know better than anyone what chains can bind some overlords."
Husker seemed confused for a moment before his eyes flashed with recognition before shifting to curiosity. You could only hope that he gathered the information you wanted to give him without having directly said it.
"You were there for my deal, weren't you?"
"I cannot say. Those are not my secrets to share."
"But where were you? I thought it was just me an' him. Unless... Hells, you're his microphone, aren't you?"
"I am expected to be by his side until he doesn't want me to be."
"You've been around long enough to see my deal, you must have seen so many other deals too. Why do you stay with him? Ain't there any kind of freedom to your deal?"
"My deal was made to keep me safe from other demons. It... Evolved into what it is now. I stay safe and in return I do as my deal says, no questions. That is what I agreed to. Look, Husker, all I am saying is your leash could be tighter, your chains could be heavier, and you could have far less freedoms than you have now. Don't squander it over someone like Mimzy."
"I just know she is bad news! But he won't listen."
"I know she is bad news too and I admit, I hate her. Every time she shows up she uses him and thinks she has some kind of control over him because he lets her get away with this nonsense."
You sighed and tried to smile at Husker, feeling the wry and strained grin become more of a grimace. It was true that you strongly disliked the woman that only appeared when she needed help and you knew she didn't like you either. Mimzy had obvious feelings for Alastor and she hated the fact that you were close to him when she so desperately wanted to be in your place.
"Husker, I can't say I like you- he doesn't like competition of any kind- but I don't want you killed or hurt. You are a better person than you claim to be and we both know it. Just know that though he doesn't like your tone, he does hear you and your concerns."
"Listen, (y/n), maybe if we talk to Charlie about your deal, she can-"
You sharply stood from where you had been kneeling by his side, already knowing where the conversation was going and not wanting either of you to get hurt by the blowback. If Husker finished his sentence, odds are Alastor would not hesitate to rip his soul to shreds for daring to try and break the deal you had. There was no way you were going to let such a thing happen and that meant you had to make it clear to Husker as well.
"No. I am happy with my deal. I would never say anything to the contrary or try to get out of my deal with Alastor. Besides, I have seen too much and know too much for him to ever let me go peacefully. That level of blood and retribution is far too high a price. Don't suggest it again, Husker, or we will both be in trouble for it. Please, just trust me to-"
The way your voice died in your throat with a slight choke let the demon know you said as much as you could. Though there was more you wished to say, you could feel your own leash tighten in a clear warning and you knew then he had been listening. Odds are, Alastor had been listening to the whole thing and he was not pleased with your attempts to get around his gag order. It was also clear to you that Alastor was likely testing you by letting Husker get as far as he did in his questioning.
A chill ran down your back and you saw your fellow demon's eyes widen as he stared behind you. The clawed hand of the Radio Demon rest on your shoulder, his head leaning over so you could barely see his threatening grin in your peripheral view. You could feel his shadows crawling over your skin and around you as he casually asserted control over both you and Husker.
"Now, now. Whatever could you two possibly be discussing? It wouldn't happen to be about the rules you know you can't discuss, right?"
"Of course not, Alastor. We both know that they aren't my secrets to share even if I wanted to, which I don't. I am simply informing him from one damned soul to another that trying to rile you is a bad idea."
A soft growl could be heard from Alastor and you could feel the slight brush of his antlers against your head as his annoyance grew. As far as you knew, you hadn't said anything to upset him and you had not breached the terms of your contract. But the way his hand tightened on your shoulder told you Alastor was unhappy about something and you were terrified what that would mean for Husker.
"I have told you what to call me many times now, (y/n). I do not appreciate your continued failure to heed my instruction."
It then dawned on you why Alastor was irritated and in some ways it was ridiculous to you. He was upset because you called him Alastor and not a pet name as he had requested. Honestly, you had forgotten entirely about something so trivial, but you also knew Alastor was a stickler for details.
"Dear, I feel there is a time and place for terms of endearment and they have no place in serious discussion."
"That is for me to decide and you to obey. Do not presume such things again, Sugar. Now, what is this about you hating Mimzy?"
"She is only here to try and use you, we all know that. I don't like her casual attempts at controlling you and I know she dislikes me as well."
"I don't care what she thinks of you, it is not her decision if I keep you with me or not. Now, I would hope you know better than to question me, because I doubt you want to spend another half a decade locked away again. Do I make myself clear, Honey?"
"... Yes, Darling."
Alastor was quick to disappear once more into shadow, leaving both you and Husker to stare at one another in silence. You both knew he likely didn't go far and that he was always watching whatever it was you chose to do. With this constant observation in mind, you did your best to keep your actions to a minimum and to keep any backlash from hurting Husker.
"We both know what our place is. It would be best that we don't question it. I'm truly sorry for the pain you feel, Husker, but we made our choices. Be happy your choice gives you some kind of freedom."
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heartfullofleeches · 6 months
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OOOO moth darling? I wanna throw my idea in too. Maybe a super kind and caring goth moth darling? Especially when they look super menacing (bcus they wear hardcore goth fashion) but their favorite game is smthn like animal crossing or they like super relaxing hobbies. (Also adonis could literally suffocate in the big tittie from his goth partner.) I hope you see my vision. PLEASE.
[Yan Butterfly + Goth Moth Darling]
Adonis is so weak for Darling.... He probably sneaks invites them into the buildings/homes he cleans for his job especially if there's been a murder or the home owners had some decor he knew they'd like. Adonis makes a fair amount of money from his cleaning gig, even moreso on contacts that are more "under the table" ergo shady folks looking to clean up any evidence left behind - but he's always spending his cash on gifts he knows Darling will like because he knows their preferred style of dress ain't always cheap.
Darling tells him they don't need it, but how can he stop when they're so kind to him? Making sure he eats, takes breaks, sleep. Butterfly boy may have worked himself to death by now if it wasn't for them. The long, grueling hours are worth it so long as he gets to come home and rest on their soft, warm ti- pillows...
-
"Brought you some sandwiches. Nothin' special, grabbed them from that gas station around the corner, but I knew you had to have something since you've been here all morning. Promise I'll grab something more filling next time"
An angel....An absolute angel gifted from the heavens above. Here you were bringing him food and checking up on him, yet you had the gull to believe it wasn't enough.
"...thanks...." Adonis shyly takes the bag from you, tensing as your fingers brush against his. You gaze around the living room as he clumsily works to untie its strings. The couch, TV stand, and coffee table had all been pushed towards the far walls - dark stains embedded into the carpet close to where the legs of the table once stood. You crouch to get a better look.
"Is this...." Your voice grows quiet - barely a whisper as you extend your hand. "Where it happened?"
"M....Mhm..." Adonis mouths through bitefuls of bread and cheese. The sandwich wasn't the best, or worst thing he'd ever eaten, but knowing it came from you made every bite heaven. He had given you some details of the incident that had taken place. A burglary gone wrong resulting in the death of an innocent man. Nobody even knew he was gone until bills began piling up. Never had many friends or close family.... Adonis wasn't close with his parents either... If something happened to him... you'd probably be the first and only to notice...
"Adonis?..."
"Y...Yeah?"
The butterfly freezes as your arms fall around him, pulling him towards your chest.
"Promise me that no matter what you'll text me at the end of every shift you have. It doesn't matter how late it is...All I care about is that you're safe."
You actually care.... Adonis has always know that, but hearing you say it out loud even if muffled by his face smothered by your chest...He knew it was an inappropriate time, but it was hard not to obsess over the contact with every beat of your heart playing like a melody in his ear. An angel, his angel. His saving grace he'll never let go.
"I will... Every night... I promise to I'll let you know whenever I get home.. I promise."
"Thank you....."
Adonis looks down at his half eaten sandwich. "...My bosses said I could take anything I wanted. I think there's still some clothes in the closet still that you might like if you're interested?"
"Raiding a dead guy's closet wasn't on my list of plans today...but I think I have enough space in my schedule."
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mariclerc · 9 months
Text
Dreams and adventures by the sea | Charles Leclerc
Hello, this is the first time I write here and I like the idea of making several stories! English is not my first language so there are some translation errors, if you see one, please let me know!
Synopsis: Where you and Charles are fully enjoying the summer break with your little girl and you discover a recurring dream that he has.
Warning: None, just a little Charles fluff and Charles!dad/family man. I hope you like it <3
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Sunbeams dance on the turquoise water, palm trees sway gently in the breeze. Charles Leclerc, tanned and carefree, chases a giggling Mollie along the shore. Her tiny pink swimsuit with flamingos glistens in the sun's rays as she squeals with delight and her tiny footprints disappear into the sand as the two year old girl scampers.
"Catch me, Mollie-mouse! Catch Papa!" He said as he chased after Mollie, they were running in circles.
"Dada! Dada!" She shouted with joy in her voice.
Charles scoops her up, spinning her in the air, the sea shimmering behind them. She throws her arms around his neck, burying her face in his shoulder while she giggled.
"Careful, you two! Don't turn into sandcastles before lunchtime!" You called to them from under a beach umbrella as you smiled.
Charles grins, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Just practicing our pit stops, amore. We have to be ready for next season."
He plops down beside you on the sand, Mollie wriggling between you like a happy starfish. You carefully brush sand off her damp hair, her tiny fingers clutching at your necklace.
"This is the life, isn't it? No deadlines, no cameras, just family and sunshine." You said with a bright smile on your face, it had been a long time since you two had been so relaxed with your favorite people in the whole world.
"Except maybe less sand in the sandwiches, hmm?" He said while nuzzling your neck.
He winks, then reaches for a mango smoothie. You roll your eyes, but the corners of your lips rise. He's never learned to apply sunscreen, and his olive skin is already freckled with a toasty glow, but he still looks cute, as always.
"You look like a tomato patch, Charles. Don't you ever learn?" You rolled your eyes playfully at him.
"Sun's my natural fuel, amore. Makes me look like a Ferrari on the track, don't you think?" He said while shrugging his shoulders.
Mollie reaches for your smoothie, her tiny hand leaving a sticky trail. You laugh, handing her a small sip of your smoothie.
"Just don't blame me when you're peeling like a banana tomorrow."
"Wouldn't trade this sunburn for anything, not even a podium finish." He said with a smile, probably the most sincere smile you've ever seen.
He pulls you close, your skin cool against his heat. Mollie snuggles between you, her eyelids heavy with the sun and the sea. You watch the waves roll in, the sound like a lullaby.
"This is the best kind of winning, isn't it? Just being here, with you, with her."
"The only trophy I need." He said as he placed a kiss on your forehead.
He rests his head on your shoulder, and you close your eyes, breathing in the salty air, the warmth of the sun, the tiny, rhythmic pulse of your daughter's heart against your chest. In this moment, the world shrinks to just this small patch of paradise, a bubble of love and laughter, and you wouldn't trade it for anything.
☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆
Back on the yacht, the sun dips lower, painting the sky in fiery hues of orange and pink. Mollie, tired from her beach adventures, yawns and snuggles into Charles' arms. He bounces her gently, singing a soft lullaby that sends shivers down your spine.
"She's out like a light. All that beach air must be exhausting." You smiled as you looked at them.
"Don't worry, amore. We'll have plenty of time for adventures tomorrow. Tonight, it's just you and me." He said in a low voice so as not to wake her.
He winks, his eyes glinting with a familiar spark. You laugh, your heart skipping a beat each time he winks at you.
"And don't think about asking me to help with sunscreen again. You're on your own, tomato boy." You said jokingly.
"Hey! I resemble that remark. Besides, your touch is like magic SPF, amore. Keeps my skin smooth and my engine purring." He pretended to be offended by your words, but then he giggled like a teenage boy.
He pulls you close, your lips meeting in a kiss as sweet as the mango smoothie. The fire crackles on the deck, its warm glow illuminating your faces. The ocean laps against the hull, a gentle rhythm that lulls you into a world of your own.
"I love this, Charles. Just being here, with you and Mollie, although she is asleep, on the open sea. It feels like we're the only two people in the world." Did you whisper delicately.
"We are, chérie. We definitely are." He kissed your forehead with such care.
He leans back, his gaze sweeping across the vast expanse of water. He usually has a vacant look when he is very lost in thought or when he is thinking about something quite deep.
"You know, sometimes I dream about what it would be like to leave all this behind. The racing, the pressure, the fame..." he let out a soft sigh "You know, spending my days with you two without worrying if you're okay while I'm on the other side of the world."
"And become a beach bum? I'm not sure Mollie would appreciate the sand in her toys." You raised an eyebrow as you spoke and giggled slightly.
"No, no, darling, something simpler, you know sweetie... Just a small house by the sea, maybe a little vineyard...a family to raise. I know we've talked about this before, but I'd like to experience that quiet life with you." He said chuckling.
You have had this conversation a couple of times, especially the time you got pregnant, at that time you were 23 and he was 24 and you both had no idea what to do, you were very afraid. He at that time proposed the idea of leaving his racing career behind and focusing purely on you and Mollie, you obviously told him no, since one of his dreams was always, apart from having a family of his own, was to be a racing driver and leave a mark on the sport. You, for your part, when you told your parents that you were expecting Charles's baby, it was perhaps the worst thing you would have said to them, They did not take the news kindly and even told you to abort the baby, but obviously, that was not in your plans, you also wanted a family with Charles, he was always the ideal person for you. Since that exchange of opinions between your parents and you, they never spoke to you again and you did the same and honestly, it was better that way for you and your family.
Now looking back, you didn't regret that decision, on the contrary, you were grateful that it was like that since you knew how judgmental your parents are and how much they criticized you for the slightest, Charles could also experience that the times he went to visit you at your parents' house, they were not very nice to him, it doesn't matter if you had been dating for a long time.
He looks at you, his eyes full of longing. You reach out, tracing the lines of his pretty sun-kissed face. He gives you a small smile, the cutest thing you've ever seen, of course... Aside from your little Mollie.
"We already have that, Charles. We have everything we need my baby."
"Everything except maybe a little more time. Maybe a little less asphalt and a little more sand." He said as he pulled you closer to him.
He kisses you again, this time a slow, burning kiss that speaks volumes of unspoken dreams and shared desires. In that moment, you see a glimpse of the man behind the racing helmet, the boy who yearns for simple things, for a life built on love and laughter. The boy you fell in love with since you were 18 and the one who ensures the safety of his girls.
"Maybe you're right, Charles. Maybe next season, we'll find a different kind of track to conquer. One that leads us back to this very spot, with the sun on our skin and the sea in our hearts." You smiled at him.
He looks at you, his eyes filled with a promise of forever. You know, deep down, that this is just the beginning. The open sea is not just a backdrop, it's a symbol of endless possibilities, a life waiting to be written, together as a family.
And as the stars begin to twinkle in the darkening sky, you raise your glass to the future, a future painted with the colors of love, laughter, and the endless horizon.
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astraystayyh · 1 year
Text
nights with hyunjin <3
little fluffy hyunjin fic inspired by the fact he sends good night msgs on bubble at the latest hours. lowercase intended.
2 am
"where do you see yourself in twenty years?" you whisper, buried under the thick white covers with Hyunjin. You can't see his face, but your nose brushes against his and his warm hand is on your back, keeping you close.
"where will you be in twenty years?" he replies instantly and you feel your cheeks heat up at his words.
"hyune, just answer the question," you whine after a few silent beats and he giggles slightly, "i am. doesn't matter where I'll be, as long as you're there."
you draw in a deep breath, suddenly feeling as if his words were keeping you at his mercy, completely unarmed. "you mean it?" you ask, grabbing onto his arm tightly.
"i do," he reassures, bopping his nose softly against yours, "you are my present and future, angel."
3 am
"what are you drawing?" you ask as you enter hyunjin's art studio, two cups of chamomile tea in your hands. you place them down and stand behind hyunjin, who leans his back onto your chest, melting into your touch. you wrap your arms around his shoulders in response, softly kissing the top of his hair. he smells like your shampoo.
"a house," he replies. his left hand wraps around your thigh, grazing up and down the exposed skin. "our house, i hope," he adds quietly and you feel your heart skip a beat.
"ours?"
"mm. wanna buy you a house. with a little garden and a view of the beach."
"i'll plant lots and lots of flowers for us there." you smile, admiring the pastel colors blending seamlessly in his painting.
"just make sure they won't die," he teases and you fake a gasp, "are you underestimating my gardening capabilities?"
hyunjin blindly grabs your arm, spinning you around so you'd sit on his lap.
"nonsense, you are my little florist," he grins cheekily and you touch his cheeks softly.
"these are cute," you tell him, referencing to his now apparent dimples. little pools for you to drown in.
"you are cuter."
"I'm still not over your flowers comment."
"I will kiss you for every flower you plant."
"that's a lot of kisses."
"i know," he smiles at you, his eyes turning into moon crescents. yours.
5 am
"can't believe she still likes him," hyunjin huffs loudly and you laugh, your hand softly threading through his hair.
"it's just a show baby."
"i know but listen," he stands up from between your legs, eyes wide looking into yours, "he just told her he doesn't find her beautiful. who says that to their lover?"
"he's stupid, she's clearly out of his league and he's threatened by that."
"right!" he claps in agreement, "she deserves better."
"she does," you giggle as he lays down again, face now buried in your chest.
"you do know i find you the most beautiful person in the world?" he whispers and your eyes soften at him.
"you tell me."
"but do you know it?"
"i do."
"good, because if you didn't then I'm a horrible boyfriend too," he shudders and you giggle at the horrified look on his face.
"you aren't, my love."
later on that night, while you are brushing your teeth, hyunjin pops his head into the bathroom. "baby," he calls out and you hum in reply.
"you are beautiful," he says and you raise an eyebrow in question at him, mouth full of toothpaste.
"just making sure you don't forget it."
4 am
"I'm getting sleepy," you say quietly. it was nearing four am and hyunjin has been playing with your hair for what felt like an eternity. braiding small sections of it, only to open them once again.
"me too."
"let's try to sleep."
"don't want to," he mumbles against your hair and you chuckle. "why?"
"if we go to sleep then it will be morning really soon which means i have to leave you."
his words make your heart clench in your chest. nights with hyunjin were your favorite parts of your existence. there was no pressure, no expectations on the both of you. you could just be two humans in love, under the kind gaze of the moon.
"okay, baby. what do you want to do?"
"i just want to look at you," he says quietly and you nod, getting away from his hold. you lay your head on your pillow and he does the same, this way you're both facing each other.
you feel yourself relax completely under hyunjin's gaze, because it's filled with love. for you. his pointer finger traces over your features, delicately, as if he was grazing a porcelain vase. and you let him. his touch is so soft it makes something warm stir within your stomach. it wasn't untamed butterflies, fluttering their wings to escape. it was something comfortable and safe, finding its home within you.
"you are so pretty," he whispers and you smile softly at his words.
"so are you." your right hand rises gently to rest on top of his cheek, and you swipe your thumb slowly across it. hyunjin's eyes flutter closed at the contact and you feel a wave of fondness flood within you.
you'd do anything to preserve this serene look on his face.
"try to sleep. I'll be here when you wake up." you finally say.
"you promise me?"
"i promise."
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foxy-eva · 1 year
Text
Dancing in the Moonlight
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Summary: Spencer gets creative in order to cheer up Reader
Request: could you please write about how sunshine!reader ends up having a bad day and grumpy spencer spends all day to no avail trying to cheer up the sunshine!reader. The thing that finally works is a little bit silly? 
Pairing: Spencer Reid x GN!Reader
Category: Comfort, Fluff
Content Warning: Reader has a bad day and is upset but it's not specified why, mentions crying
Word Count: 1k
Masterlist
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Just like a sunbeam sneaking through black curtains you came into Spencer's life all those months ago. He would never forget the first time he felt the heat your presence radiated, warming even the darkest corner of his heart. After those long days of fighting evil, he craved nothing more than coming home to bask in your kindness. 
However, when he entered your apartment that night, Spencer immediately realized that something was different. Where he'd usually find excitement and joy, he only saw a fake smile on your face.
"What's wrong, my love?" 
Spencer found his place beside you on the couch, offering to pull you right into his arms. You hesitated, afraid that his touch might break loose the tears you so desperately tried to hold back. 
Instead of accepting his embrace, you just shook your head and answered, "I just had a bad day." 
Spencer knew that it must have been a truly terrible day for it to take away your smile. You were the most optimistic person he had ever met, always seeing the good in everything even when he couldn't. 
"I'm sorry to hear that. What can I do to make it better?" 
You just shrugged and leaned back on the couch, ready to simply wait until this day would be over. 
Spencer, however, decided to make it his mission to cheer you up. After giving it some thought, he realized that he had no idea how to do that, though. Usually your roles were reversed with you being the one to comfort him after a bad day. You were the one who – without fail – always managed to light up his life.
Now it was his turn to do the same for you. He just needed to figure out how. 
"Do you want to talk about it?" He offered. 
You shook your head while sinking back further into the couch. Spencer reached out his hand to brush over your fingertips. His touch was soothing, so you opened your palm to take his hand in yours. He moved closer to you until his shoulder touched yours. 
When you locked eyes with him you managed to flash him a timid smile, not as genuine as usual but less fake than before. 
"Hey," Spencer whispered.
"Hi," you breathed. 
His lips found yours in a brief and innocent kiss. It wasn't enough to make up for what happened today but you appreciated his attempt to light up your inner spark again. 
Spencer quickly noticed that his nearness alone wouldn't be enough to cheer you up. 
"Are you hungry?" He asked. "I could make you something to eat."
"I already had dinner earlier," you declined his offer. 
He got up from the couch to turn on the TV and put on your favorite show before disappearing in the kitchen for a few minutes. When he came back he handed you a mug with freshly brewed tea. 
"Thank you," you said while taking the beverage. "I really appreciate it."
It was true, you did appreciate his attempts to make your day better. It didn't work though. As he sat with you to watch the show while occasionally checking your facial features, he realized that, too. 
"You're still upset," he stated with a frown present on his face. 
"Sorry, I–"
"Don't apologize," he interrupted you. "It's not your fault. I just hate that I have no idea how to help you. You're always there for me and know exactly what to do or say and here I am… so…lost." 
"It's okay, Spencer. I'm sure it'll just pass. Tomorrow is a new day."
"No, don't you try to cheer me up!" He protested. "This is about you. I really want to make you feel better." 
You turned your head to look out the window. The sun had already set, all you could find was darkness on the other side of the glass. It almost felt like a metaphor for that day, as if all you could do was to wait for the next morning to let the rising sun warm your heart again. 
Spencer couldn't accept that, though, so he suggested, "We could go for a walk. Maybe the fresh air will help you clear your head."
It was worth a try. Chilly air met puffy cheeks when you stepped outside, Spencer’s hand immediately reaching out to intertwine his fingers with yours. Walking side by side, you followed his lead, unable to make a decision as to where to go yourself. Soon you stepped into a park together, noticing how a mild breeze created a rustling sound as it met leafy trees.
Tilting your head, your eyes wandered over the night sky. The moon was bright and big, almost looking unreal from your point of view. Although it was only borrowing its light from the sun, it still did its bet to illuminate your path. 
Very sudden and without a warning Spencer stopped his motions to step in front of you. He softly smiled at you when he said, "Dance with me."
Those were words you never thought you'd hear from him, so you asked in disbelief, "What?" 
He gently got ahold of your wrists to move them to his shoulders before he grabbed your waist. 
"Dance with me," he repeated. 
And so you did. 
At first you just swayed from side to side, not unlike all those kitschy prom scenes in teen movies. There was no music playing but that was alright, the sound of the wind was your beat while some sleepless bird sang the harmony. When Spencer made the first step, you simply followed his motions. 
It was clumsy and graceless but he didn't give up, not even when he almost fell over his own feet. The smile slowly forming on your face spurred him on to keep going despite his lack of skill. There was no holding back the laughter spilling from your lips each time your chests almost collided because you missed a step. 
However, after a few moments your body moved naturally with his, almost as if you had done that a million times before. Your smile grew bigger with each spin, making you slowly forget the sorrows of the day. And although the sunrise was still many hours away, just like that your inner light began shining again.  
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Taglist: @nomajdetective @reidsbookclub @gspenc @samuel-de-champagne-problems @matthew-gray-gubler-lover @malindacath @reidselle @alexxavicry @frickin-bats @spencersprettyslut @sebs-oxygen @happymangospot @cynbx @melifluorei-d @hotchandspencearedilfs @emiliaserpe @thenerdthatwrites @velvetthunder93 @cncoxlifeline @saturnstringz @missabsey @guacam011y @whoopdy-doo @hugyourlungs @reiderwriter @snapeknot @enamoradax @hales-17 @cham9ions @loaksulluyswife @ecneremili @xserenax-13 @grumpyy-bearr
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imfinereallyy · 5 months
Text
I wonder if you look both ways (When you cross my mind) pt. 3
a nice long update for ya ♡ part 1 part 2
cw: internalized homophobia and projecting internalized homophobia (from an oc)
🐝・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・✦ʚɞ
June 1996, Chicago
Steve's first steps into his living room are not met with silence and sunshine; in fact, he is met with two surprises.
The first being Eddie Munson still in his apartment.
Steve rubs the tired out of his eyes, squishing his palm into his lids in hopes of shaking out a morning delusion. He is proven unsuccessful..
His second surprise is that Eddie is awake, staring at Steve in high alert, blankets folded neatly (he must have scrounged around for them in the night, not that Steve minds), sitting patiently as if he has been waiting for hours for Steve's arrival.
If the second surprise hadn't happened, Steve might have excused the first. See, Eddie, in all the years he had known him, had been anything but an early riser, usually choosing to sleep the day away. So if he had been asleep still, Steve might have let him being in his apartment slide.
Steve ponders how he doesn't really know Eddie anymore, so he shouldn't actually be surprised.
Eddie clears his throat, "So, how about that talk?"
Steve has to resist shutting his eyes to relish in the sound of Eddie's deep timbre. His voice has grown scratchy over the years—from singing or cigarettes, Steve can't be sure. It feels like coming home, either way, to have his voice brush over him.
Instead, Steve clears his throat back. "Don't have time; maybe try again in another five years." He moves to the kitchen to start making their morning drinks—hot coffee with cream for Robin and an iced dirty chai for Steve.
When Dustin had been working at a cafe back when he was in college, he made Steve try all of their new drinks. Surprisingly his favorite became a dirty chai—something which Robin finds hilarious.
Steve grabs the chipped green mug from the cabinet and begins pouring Robin's coffee. It had already been hot and ready in the pot, which probably meant Eddie had prepped it for him. Steve doesn't comment.
Eddie huffs through his nose, "C'mon Stevi—Steve. It's ten in the morning on a Saturday. You can't tell me you're busy right now."
Steve has to resist slamming Robin's mug down on the counter, already having being put together after the 1994 incident, he doesn't want to face her wrath.
Gently placing it on the counter, Steve turns. "Actually, I have somewhere to be at twelve, not that you need to know that. And don't act like you know what's going on in my life, Munson."
Eddie smiles, a little laugh escapes him. God, it is like a fucking drug after years of being sober that laugh. Steve wants to beg him for another hit, even though he knows it's bad for him.
With the smile never leaving his face, Eddie raises his hands. "Okay, okay. You're right."
"Why are you smiling? This isn't funny." Steve huffs.
Eddie's face softens, "Sorry, just even though you're mad at me. You're talking to me, and shit, sweetheart. I would take that over silence any day. It's nice to hear your voice."
Steve has to force himself to keep his shoulders tense, wanting to sag into Eddie. He's still mad at him, furious even. But some part of him agrees deep down, this is nice.
He can never let Eddie know that.
"Fuck off, Munson. I have shit to do. I'm sure you're too busy anyway."
Eddie shakes his head, hair falling in front of his face. "No, trust me I have nothing else going on. The band is on hiatus. And even if we weren't, trust me when I say this is exactly where I am supposed to be right now."
Steve can't help the snort that comes out of him, "Funny you're asking me to trust you, asshole. That went out the door with your bags five years ago."
Eddie flinches back, "Okay, I deserve that one."
Steve doesn't mention to Eddie how he knows his band has been on hiatus for over a year now. How he's kept up on the band, even after Eddie left. How he is curious why they went on hiatus at all, they have two successful albums, and supposedly were working on their third, when suddenly they all decided it was time for a break.
Peak of their career, and they chose silence. Normally, a horrible career move, but it seems it makes the rock community want them even more.
Steve can understand that partially. When it comes to Eddie, you can't help but want more, even when he disappears without a trace.
"I got to go get ready. Seriously, Munson. I know you think I don't mean it when I say leave. I think you're stuck on the Steve from five years ago, and how the Steve from then wouldn't really mean it. But this is the Steve now. And Steve from now means it when he says, get the fuck out. Go find someone else who could actually use your presence, like Dustin. God knows the kid deserves a phone call."
Eddie opens his mouth to protest, but doesn't get to chance to say his peace, Steve's already on his way back to his bedroom with their drinks in hand.
🐝・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・✦ʚɞ
Steve is running late.
It's not his fault, he has a fucking ghost haunting his living room, and it takes him ten times longer to work around it. Robin tells him to cancel his lunch, but Steve doesn't, even though she's right.
Robin's always right.
Steve can't help but feel a little smug when thinking back to leaving his apartment, though. He looks good, wearing his nicest Levi's and soft white button-up. Steve had made sure to keep the top few buttons undone, showing off his gold necklaces that landed perfectly on his exposed chest hair.
For Drew, of course, not for Eddie.
Still, Steve knows he looks good. So when he leaves his apartment and Eddie doesn't even bother to try to talk to him again because he is just too busy staring at Steve.
Steve makes it to the restaurant only five minutes late. It would have been on time if it had been in his athletic prime.
Resturant, Steve realizes, is a bit of a stretch. It appears to be a cafe--but not one of those cozy ones with crazy colors and a fun name. No, this cafe is incredibly fancy. Everything is so sleek and high up, the name in an Italian word he'll have to asked Robin to translate later.
Steve looks around the cafe in a huff, realizing Drew is nowhere to be found. He is momentarily flooded with relief, knowing he has beaten Drew to the cafe.
Steve finds a table in a corner and waits. His brief relief is quickly swept away into annoyance as he sits there for minutes with no signs of Drew.
It takes another thirty minutes, before Drew is finally at the cafe.
"Sorry, I'm late, baby." He says breath even. Steve knows he was in no rush to be here on time. He doesn't move to kiss Steve, not on the cheek and certainly not on the mouth. Drew isn't one for PDA, or so he says. Instead, he smooths down his dark blue Armani suit and sits across from Steve.
"You know, you could give me a kiss. I haven't seen you in a week." Steve decides to move past his being late; there is no point in arguing. If it had been him, Steve is sure he would never hear the end of it.
"Sweetheart..." Drew whispers and brushes his hand against Steve's knee. Steve's lip twitches; he doesn't like it when Drew calls him that. "You know it isn't safe to do that."
Steve wants to throw Drew's hand off of him, but he doesn't. It's always like this between them, Steve wants more, and Drew pulls back. It's beginning to feel tiresome, this game between them. They have been dating for a year and have made no progress in public. Steve's lucky Robin gets to know, seeing as basically no one else in either of their lives knows about each other. For Steve, everyone knows of Drew but not his name. For Drew, Steve is almost sure no one even knows he's gay.
Steve wants to hit himself for the thought. It's unfair of him to put these expectations on Drew, everyone comes out at their own pace. He would be a hypocrite if he pushed him; it had taken him nineteen years to figure out he was bisexual. Took Eddie leaving for him to come out to anyone other than Robin.
It feels different somehow with Drew, though. Like this isn't him scared to come out, but more like Drew doesn't actually see a future with Steve. It had taken them six months to even label themselves as boyfriends, moving from late-night booty calls to watching a movie together in Steve's living room in the middle of a Tuesday.
Steve rubs his temples instead of smacking Drew's hand away. Steve feels tired of this cycle. He knows this is the best he's going to get when it comes to dating. With women, they often want him to admit that he was experimenting, wanting to shun parts of himself away. That or they are convinced he's gay. Well, he is, but it's more than that, and they don't seem to get it.
With men, it's the opposite problem. Either they need him to admit being bisexual is just something he used to make himself feel better, or they are only looking for a quick hookup.
Hookups are nice, but approaching thirty, Steve wants something real and is perhaps sick of finding out the man he brings home from the bar is married.
He knows this is the best he's going to get.
"Maybe if we met a cafe in my neighborhood, we could be a bit more affectionate. The one down the block has a rainbow flag and everything."
Drew scrunches his nose, "Why do that when we can get nice coffee like this?"
Steve doesn't point out that neither Drew nor himself has ordered coffee. Steve can't afford the coffee here, and Drew was late. "I think that's your way of saying where I live isn't nice."
Drew grabs his hand under the table, "No, babe, I don't want to fight today. I've missed you."
Steve feels bad; he has missed Drew. Despite their ups and downs (and Robin's grumbles), Steve does care for him. "You're right, I'm sorry."
"Don't worry about it. Besides, I did want to have lunch for a reason." Drew smiles brightly. Steve can't help but stare for a minute. It's no surprise what hooked Steve the first moment they met at the club. He is a classic kind of handsome. Wavy brown hair cut to look proper, a shiny white smile, piercing blue eyes. Nothing about him is soft, he is full of sharpness that takes you from across the room.
He's the kind of guy Steve's parents would have loved if they were okay with Drew being a guy—if Steve was even talking to them at all.
"Oh yes, you've got me on the edge of my seat." Steve jokes.
Drew gives him a charming smile, "There's my funny guy."
Steve rolls his eyes.
"So I have a big question for you..."
Steve freezes up; oh no. Here it comes. The talk, the let's move into together speech. One he'll have to turn down. No one ever gets it. How he can't live without Robin. Literally and physically.
"....so Greg says there's an opening and I think you'd be a great fit."
Steve shakes himself out of his thoughts, "What?"
Drew levels him with a look. "A job? For you?"
Oh. "I already have a job."
It's Drew's turn to roll his eyes, "C'mon, Steve. A high school guidance counselor? You could do so much more."
"I like my job, Drew. We've been through this. Besides, you barely want to be seen together, and now you want to work together? I have no interest in working at a law firm."
Drew pinches his nose, "Just...just think about it, okay? I want to see more of you in any way I can."
Steve doesn't want to fight. The fight left him a long time ago. "Okay."
He doesn't mean it.
🐝・゚ ・゚·:。・゚゚・✦ʚɞ
aaah im loving where this is going, also I swear it gets better soon and this has a happy ending!! also thanks for the love and support. This will probably be the last part where I will take tag requests for the series so please ask now, cause its getting too long. But parts will always be updated on the previous posts and my page!!
tag list!:
@stevesbipanic @withacapitalp @emryyyyy09 @brainfugk @blueberrylemontea-fanfic
@slv-333 @thetinymm @connected-dots-st-reblogger @helpimstuckposting @dreamercec
@goodolefashionedloverboi @stripey82 @little2nerdy @anne-bennett-cosplayer @resident-gay-bitch
@ghostquer @sourw0lfs @devondespresso @yesdangerpls
@lingermirth
@adealwithher @antonymeanonyme @stevah-hawcett @samsoble @mugloversonly
@stripey82 @anaibis @mycatsstolemybiscuit @flustratedcas @alfhitchblonde
@s0ft-strawberries @slavicviking @theheadlessphilosopher
@l1lpip @emmabubbles @arepaconchocolate
@thesuninyaface @hallo-spaceb0y @dykelips @bookbinderbitch @valinwonderland
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hunn1e-bunn1e · 3 months
Note
Hello Benny! How are you doing? Did you sleep well? Be sure to have a snack if you haven’t already!
I saw in your masterlist that you are writing for Honkai Star Rail, and so I had one request - What do you think about Argenti with the Knight of Beauty! Reader? There is so little content with Argenti (especially with m!reader), and I love it so much love it!😭💞
In any case, ignore if you don't like it! I apologize for any mistakes
-🌾 anon
Argenti - Knight of Beauty Male Reader, General Fluff
🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.
Hey 🌾wheat anon, I know it's been a super long time and you've probably already forgotten this ask, but I finally got around to doing it. You didn't really give me any details of what you wanted besides the character, so I just went with what I felt was best; so, I based the reader off of Rook Hunt a little bit. I ended up having to do some serious Argenti research since I don't play Honkai Star Rail, so I hope this is at least a little accurate. The lyrics quoted in this one are from the song “Dandelions” by Ruth B.. —Benny🐰                                                                                                               
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🌼•♡•🌼•♡•🌼•♡•🌼•♡•🌼•♡•🌼•♡•🌼•♡•🌼
❝'𝕮𝖆𝖚𝖘𝖊 𝕴'𝖒 𝖎𝖓 𝖆 𝖋𝖎𝖊��𝖉 𝖔𝖋 𝖉𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖑𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖘; 𝖂𝖎𝖘𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖔𝖓 𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖞 𝖔𝖓𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖞𝖔𝖚'𝖉 𝖇𝖊 𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖊, 𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖊~❞
. . .
💐  You and Argenti travel together as a duo, spreading the word of the ethereal beauty of your missing Aeon, Idrila. The rose knight had met you during a visit to far off planet with little to no population; it would seem that you had been stranded on the planet after going there yourself. Argenti didn't recognize you, so he assumed that you didn't belong to Honorclad to which he learned that you belonged to a smaller group called Sonnetheld.
💐  You both were interested in each other's different expressions and ways to appreciate and worship beauty. Argenti would always find himself relaxing when you recited your eloquent and vivid poems; your voice and the way you pronounced your words always filled his mind with bliss. While you, despite him being downright awful at it, found yourself appreciating whenever he tried his hand at playing the ocarina to pass the time between travels to another location.
💐  The two of you spend a lot of time alone together, so it's pretty much a given that you do just about everything together as well; eating, sleeping, sparring, bathing, etc. You and Argenti trust each other with your lives and your deepest darkest secrets. Where one of you goes the other isn't far behind.
💐  A favored bonding activity of yours is doing each other's hair. Washing it, moisturizing it, brushing or combing it, curling, braiding, twisting. Argenti has long and gorgeous hair that can be put into many different styles, though your favorite has to be very eccentric and dramatic updos that require many different pins and clips to hold it into place. The rose knight enjoys threading all kinds of flowers into the braids that he's weaved into your hair; turning your skull into a lovely boutonniere of vibrant blooms.
💐  Another activity that you and Argenti take part in is writing songs together, with your poems as the lyrics and the redhead's Aeon awful ocarina playing as the melody. You've both made songs dedicated to each other separately and came together to complete them and hear the finished product. Unlike his woodwind skills, Argenti has a beautiful singing voice, so you often make him read poems about himself and watch him flush in gratitude.
. . .
❝'𝕮𝖆𝖚𝖘𝖊 𝕴'𝖒 𝖎𝖓 𝖆 𝖋𝖎𝖊𝖑𝖉 𝖔𝖋 𝖉𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖑𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖘; 𝖂𝖎𝖘𝖍𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖔𝖓 𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖞 𝖔𝖓𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖞𝖔𝖚'𝖉 𝖇𝖊 𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖊, 𝖒𝖎𝖓𝖊~❞
🌼•♡•🌼•♡•🌼•♡•🌼•♡•🌼•♡•🌼•♡•🌼•♡•🌼
🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.
Wanna see similar content? Check out my Masterlist!
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railingsofsorrow · 4 months
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Dress
[emily prentiss x reader]
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summary: you're dressed in red, her favorite color. and emily has a hard time wrapping her mind around that or around the fact that she wants to kiss you senseless tonight.  pairing: emily prentiss x f!reader  w.c: 2K   warnings/content: morcia & their antics; flirting; suggestive content (no smut); kissing; fluff; friends that want to be more than friends but haven't had the guts to say that to one another trope.
A/N: here is my entry for the @imagining-in-the-margins's CM Pride Challenge! The chosen prompt was “Are they... flirting?” “Big time.” with the pairing emily prentiss x reader slightly inspired by taylor swift's dress. I hope you like it! I had so much fun writing this. 
[part of “the taylor swift anthology”] 
navi masterpost 
cm masterlist 
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❝ say many name and everything just stops,
I don't want you like a best friend.
only bought this dress so you could take it off. ❞
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“Are they... flirting?” Derek squints trying to see you and Emily's figure angled towards one another in the bar. His sight isn't perfect but he can't be imagining things.  
Penelope huffs out a laugh, giving him a look of that's your question? “Big time.” 
"It was about damn time." He mumbles, sipping into his whiskey as a gasp beside him makes him direct his attention back to his favourite blonde in the whole world. She was staring at him wide-eyed as if he had just described the secret path to Atlantis. "What?" 
Penelope slaps his chest, causing him to protest in disbelief.  
"Baby girl, what the hell?" 
"You know something!" She points her perfectly done long nails at him, earning a raised brow. "You know about... them." And then, as he follows to where she's pointing attempting to be discreet, Derek finally understands. "Yeah, yeah, spill the beans. Now." 
Derek takes another sip of his drink to hide the smirk stretching out on his lips.  
"We all know they're completely head over heels for one another, that's not news." 
"But you know more and I don't need to be a profiler to notice that in your entire handsome face. Derek." She presses impatiently. "Did Emily say something to you? Is she finally gonna make a move?" 
"Oh, please," Derek chuckles, patting her shoulders sympathetically. "The move already happened. They are just attempting to pretend it didn't. And they are doing a poor job at it. Just look at that." He mentions the pair across the room from them. You were currently brushing a dark strand of Emily's hair behind her ear, a sideways smile dancing on your lips.  
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Emily hadn't been in a party mood. Or a little gathering, as Rossi likes to call it. But she was convinced to leave her house by a very compelling text that came from you, who was the only person who could really convince her to do anything, even knitting, which is something she had no idea how it even worked, but if you asked for a knitted beanie, she would buy the materials right this second. 
Joy Rossi. That is who the gathering in Rossi's fancy place is for. Emily is currently celebrating you and the dress you picked for this event because that proved to be more important.  
"Red looks really good on you, did you know that?" 
The disarming smile you send her way is enough to make her falter on her feet.  
"Yes, I do." You step closer. "And... did you know that I'm only wearing this one because I know it's your favorite color?" Her breathing fails for a long minute and her eyes fall on your red lips. It's like you're taunting her with that smug grin.  
“Really?” Emily tilts her head to keep staring at you as she takes a sip of her drink, her lips pursing around the reusable straw. She watches as your eyes travel downwards to her mouth and satisfaction bubbles inside her chest. Clearly, she's not the only one being affected tonight. “So you're wearing it for me? I feel special.” 
A smirk stretches across your mouth as your hand lifts to brush back a strand of her dark silky hair behind her ear. Emily tenses up when your fingers graze the back of her neck, but you quickly draw your hand back and she almost frowns in disappointment. 
“You are special.” You gently bump your elbow with hers when you rest back to stare at the enormous area in the backyard of David Rossi's mansion. Small groups of people shared conversations and the kids played around without a care for their sleep schedule. Alex waves at you from across the room and you watch as she starts walking over. “So special that I only bought it so you could take it off.” 
As expected, she chokes up on her drink and you caress her back tenderly while holding back a laugh. “You good, Em?” 
She gives you a look that can only be interpreted as a glare mixed with lust as she glances up and down your frame.  
“I'm— I'm perfect.” Emily clears her throat when Alex gets to where you are. She hugs you first and then Emily, you're smiling like a Cheshire cat probably. You love it when you successfully get what you want: tease Emily.  
“Oh, look at the two of you. I've missed this.” Blake comments, sipping on her champagne.  
“We missed you,” you say truthfully, squeezing her arm with a soft smile. It is the truth, Alex Blake was an important addition to the team and you will forever miss her on your daily routine at the BAU.  
She offers you a grateful smile and the conversation follows for a few minutes until Alex has to go and you and Emily are left alone. Again.  
Somehow, you don't find any complaints about that. 
“Hey,” you nudge the back of her hand to call for her attention. She had already been looking at you, when you take notice of that you feel the side of your neck warm-up. “Dance with me?” 
Emily finally diverts her attention from you and it settles on the empty makeshift dance floor.  
“Nobody's dancing.” 
You hum, dragging your hand towards hers to pull her softly with you. She follows with a groan, feigning annoyance which you know couldn't be farther from the truth. An annoyed Emily would have a permanent scowl on her pretty face and lips pulled downwards. But now she's displaying one of her award-winning grins and there isn't one single limb in her body that holds tension. Not as you're here, anyway. Not as she's in your presence. 
“We are,” you inform, guiding both of her hands to your waist and placing both of your arms around her shoulders, your fingers immediately reaching the back of her neck. “You look beautiful tonight. I forgot to say that before.” 
She pulls you closer carefully and you feel her hands move upwards, fingers drawing circles on your back.  
Emily suddenly doesn't care that she's in the public eye not trying to hold herself back from something she's wanted for years. She's been so used to hiding that whatever it is that the both of you are doing is frightening and freeing at the same time. It might be the alcohol —she hasn't had that much of it — but you're showing interest and she doesn't feel as if this is one-sided anymore.  
“Thank you.” 
“Of course,” you caress the baby hairs on the back of her neck. “It's not like you ever get out of my mind and you look beautiful every day so...” 
Emily looks away and laughs and you feel your brain burst in flames because yes, she really is beautiful and I can't think straight right now with her laughing.  
“You should stop that.” Emily warns. She's teasing you and you decide to play into her antics by pretending to be completely innocent. 
“Stop what?” 
“That.” She lowers her hands to the small of your back, tightening her hold there as you sway to the slow song. “I'm trying really hard not to kiss you right now.” The way her breathing tickles the side of your face, makes you immediately close the gap between your lips but you refrain from doing so. There's still some common sense left in your slight inebriated state of mind.  
“Why are you trying,” you croak out, voice rough, lifting your thumb to her jaw, outlining the thin scar she earned when she was a kid. You lean back a bit to be able to look her in the eye so there's no breach in your communication. “Stop trying, Emily. I'm here.” I want to kiss you too. You've no idea how bad I want that.
Her eyes fall to your lips, “are you sure?” The warmth of her hand is grounding and it is possibly the only thing keeping you upright at that moment.  
“Yes.”  
But she takes too long and you're the one who closes the small distance left between the two of you. Her arms wrap around your middle and she brings you closer to her body when your lips connect.  
It's a damn loud whistling that splits you apart. Your brows are pulled into a frown of confusion when you take notice of your friends gathered together laughing. You caught Penelope shushing Derek and this is what you need to know what's going on. All eyes are on you. Not all of them, most people had left already and now it's only whoever is part of the BAU and their partners. Even Rossi's daughter, who the party was for in the first place, had already left.  
“You couldn't have done that a month ago?” Luke Alvez whines from his table beside Spencer, who's outstretching a hand towards him. When the money is placed on top of his palm, he winks at Luke in victory.  
You hide your face in Emily's neck, cursing under your breath. She attempts to comfort you by rubbing her hands up and down your back. 
“Cut it out.” Emily rolls her eyes at her friends.
“You bet on us?” You exclaim in disbelief, disentangling yourself from her to place your hand on your hips. Emily watches you get ready to put everyone in their place and she can't even be mad about anything else when the scowl on your face is one more thing she wants to kiss. Though what you say surprises her and everyone who's waiting for you to yell at them. “Who won?”  
Derek, JJ, and Spencer raise their arms as a trio of toddlers admitting they did something wrong.  
“We bet something was going to happen tonight.” Derek wriggles his brows. “But I think I can say for everyone that we all knew you're completely whipped for each other.” 
JJ groans loudly, “yes. It's embarrassing.”  
Thanks to your friends, your face must be the same color as your dress. 
“I think half of that money should be ours.” Emily tugs you closer to her again, wrapping a protective arm around your shoulders. “We technically made you win.” 
“But you had no idea,” Spencer interjects, shaking his head. “Technically, you weren't even going to come tonight. She convinced you. So she should get half of the money, not you— Ow!” 
“Pretty boy,” Derek hisses. “Shut up. There are no technicalities, we won!” 
“Well, I'm just saying—”  
You block off the rest of their bickering to realize Emily's dragging you away from all the attention, something you're very grateful for.  
“Sorry about that.” Emily gives you a guilty smile as you finally get inside the house.  
“Are you sorry for kissing me, Emily Prentiss?” 
Her eyes widen comically, “wha—No! I just, I was saying sorry because of that whole thing they did—” you cut her off with a peck to her lips, chucking at her bewildered expression.  
“I'm messing with you. And don't be sorry, cause I'm not.” 
The grin plastered on her face is contagious. When she kisses you again, it's more urgent, needy, desperate.  
“My apartment or yours?” You ask breathless when your back hits the kitchen counter and she starts kissing down your neck.  
“Mine. It's closer.” She pulls you in for another passionate kiss before you drag her to exit the house. 
“Great, cause none of us is in any condition to drive and I can't wait for you to take this dress off of me.”  
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pien-art · 1 year
Text
-FAQ-
Hello! I've gained a whole bunch of followers lately and I've been getting a lot of questions about commissions, what my setup is, what brushes I use, etc, so I thought I'd make a post about it to answer everyone's questions at once !
Putting them under the cut <3
Commissions:
Commission prices are listed in my pinned post. You can send me a private message about your commission idea and we can get to talking :) It is helpful to have enough references handy (character, outfit, descriptions etc)
I am generally a fast drawer but I also have a job and a physical disability so there might be moments I can't work on your commission. But that is never longer than a few days at most.
Payment is upfront, the full amount and via paypal only. I know this might seem a bit scary but unfortunately there are a lot of people who end up not paying for commissions and I want to avoid that.
During the process I will send you frequent updates and will ask for input, to see if it is going in the direction you want. You can ask for changes during the sketching progress but once I've started on line-art and coloring, no big changes will happen. (You can for example ask for a different color for a shirt etc, but not for a different prop or pose or expression)
When it is completed, I will send the drawing to you via email. The drawing will remain mine and it is not to be sold or profited of by the person who commissioned me. If the commission is for something commercial/for selling, that needs to be discussed. I prefer to do drawings only for personal use!
For more questions, my dms/asks are open :)
How long have I been doing digital art:
I've been drawing digitally for about 5 years now i think? But before that I've been drawing and painting traditionally literally since the moment I could pick up a pencil.
Set-up:
It's just me and my ipad and apple pencil laying on my bed. I wouldn't even know where to begin for those whole multi-monitor/screen setups ;-; I draw only with Procreate
Brushes:
I tend to play with different brushes from time to time to get different textures, but generally i use the same few for most of my drawings/styles. My favorite one is the Peppermint Brush, for sketching. I use it in every drawing i make! I always sketch with it, and often do the line-art with it as well! And it makes for a nice textured brush for rendering as well! (i used it for a lot of rendering of the armor in this drawing)
The (procreate) brushes i use a lot are
for medieval style: inking - Ink Bleed (for line-art) artistic - Quoll (for coloring)
for general style: calligraphy - Chalk (coloring/rendering) sketching - Peppermint (line-art/sketching)
for realism: calligraphy - Shale Brush (full rendering) Also using the shale brush for smudging and erasing when drawing realistic
for lineart: smooth pencil from this pack by Heygiudi
How/why do you choose a base color:
I tend to look at a few different things when deciding on a base color/color palette.
the overall color of the reference pic
the color i associate with who or what i am drawing
the feeling/vibe i want to give off with that drawing
color has a BIG impact on the vibe of a drawing, so it is something i keep in mind when im drawing.
Using a color as a base to start, helps a lot with my drawing process. It helps me pick out other colors so they match better. It helps me get light/dark values right. And the chalk brush i use, has gaps between the strokes, so the base color will always come through a little. Having the same color come through in the entire drawing, helps pull all the colors together if that makes sense? I always start with a solid base color when i am painting traditionally as well!
Advice:
PRACTICE!!! just keep drawing and practice. I know this is such generic advice but truly practice is The Way. Learn from other artists but don't compare yourself to them. Everyone's artistic journey is different and there's no "good" or "bad". And most importantly make sure that you have fun when you're making stuff :3
I also learn a lot by studying art I admire and love. Figuring out what it is I like about it. (for example, the line thickness or the shapes or texture etc), and try to incorporate that in my own style in a way that is not directly copying or stealing.
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bobfloydsbabe · 11 months
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gold rush | eccentric professor!bob floyd x oc
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SUMMARY: Everyone knows history professor Bob Floyd is a little eccentric. He only drinks tea steeped for exactly four minutes, his desk is pristine while the rest of his office looks like a bomb went off, he's distrustful of technology, and he definitely doesn't want or need a teaching assistant. Certainly not one who's as aggravating as she is pretty...
WARNINGS: academia au, enemies to lovers (if you squint), age gap (mid-to-late 20s/late 30s), bob being grumpy and rude. strictly 18+/minors dni.
WORD COUNT: ~0.5k
A/N: Eccentric Professor Bob Floyd has been on my mind constantly for the last week, so here we are with a moodboard and a short blurb. This AU will not be a full length series, but a collection of blurbs and drabbles. Special thanks to @ryebecca for raving with me about my new favorite grumpy man. Don't hesitate to send me questions and headcanons!
UPDATE: ADD YOURSELF TO THE TAGLIST
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Bob stops dead in his tracks in the doorway to his office, hot tea spilling over the edges of the cup.
Inside, among piles of books and paper, stands a woman with her back turned none the wiser to his presence. She can’t be one of his students–they know not to come to his office unless they have an appointment.
“Who are you?” he asks, not bothered with pleasantries.
She turns around with a startled laugh. “Dr. Floyd, you scared me,” she says with a hand pressed to her heaving chest. “You can’t sneak up on people like that.”
“You’re in my office,” he points out, brushing past her as he walks to his desk in long strides, placing his cup on a coaster to protect the wood.
“Right,” she agrees.
He sits and pulls his books closer to continue preparing for his next lecture, but his eyes drifts back to the young woman. She appears to be in her mid, maybe late twenties. Dark hair falls in loose waves around her face, and she’s looking at him expectantly. “Did you need something?” he asks.
She cocks her head to the side, brows furrowed. “I’m waiting for you to put me to work.”
“Work?”
“Yes,” she answers, incredulous. “What did your old TA do?”
He stares at her, almost convinced he’s hallucinating. “I don’t have a teaching assistant.”
She smiles at him, wide and enthusiastic. “Well, you do now. Would you like me to clean up a bit? It’s a little messy in here.”
Bob suppresses a frustrated groan. Pushing back from his desk, he stands and rounds his desk, stopping in front of her. The scent of her perfume hits his nostrils, something spicy and vaguely floral, and this close, he can see all the colors in her eyes. “I don’t want a TA and I certainly don’t need one. Whoever hired you–”
“Dr. Kazansky,” she interjects. “–made an error. Now, please, leave.”
Walking back around his desk, he ignores the sound of her taking a deep breath and composing herself. She doesn’t speak until he’s fully sat and emerged in his books again.
“You may not want me here, Dr. Floyd,” she begins through clenched teeth, forcing him to look up. She holds his gaze, determination and a hint of defiance in those dark doe eyes. “But you’re stuck with me. So, I’ll be back tomorrow and we can start over. Have a good day.”
The door slams and Bob’s left in the silence of his office, staring at the spot where she stood mere moments ago. Of course, Dr. Kazansky went behind his back to hire a teaching assistant–he’s insisted that Bob needs one for years, but Bob’s always been able to avoid it. Until now, it seems. He wonders how long she’ll last before she realizes he’s too set in his ways to change. But as he imagines the way her nose will scrunch in annoyance, it occurs to him he never even got her name.
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likes are nice, comments and reblogs are golden
TAGLIST: @blue-aconite, @sylviebell, @wkndwlff, @ryebecca, @sebsxphia, @rhettabbotts, @lewmagoo, @ereardon, @anniesocsandgeneralstore, @desert-fern, @fantasias-creativebubble, @lostinwonderland314, @luckyladycreator2, @cherrycola27, @flashyourgreeneyesatme, @atarmychick007, @yanna-banana, @fandom-princess-forevermore, @gizmodear, @hangmanapologist, @thedroneranger, @soulmates8, @withakindheartx, @eternallyvenus, @kmc1989, @bcarolinablr, @memeorydotcom, @dempy, @withahappyrefrain, @bradshawsbitch, @daisiesandinvasives, @teacupsandtopgun, @laracrofted
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luvvixu · 1 year
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night skincare routine
content: fluff, husband!gojo, he's a thief little mf, minor kissing, umm so i had this thought where gojo's typa boy who eat straight lip moisturizer/flavored serum lmaoaoao
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if there's one thing that couples do love the most, especially when you are married to a man like gojo satoru, is that a night skincare routine is a must.
you know, after a long day, you and satoru would be situated in your shared bedroom with lots of trusted brands in your hands. satoru especially loves it when you help him with his skincare.
just you spreading some night cream on his already smooth skin. oh he just loved the way how gentle your fingers were when you slightly massage his face. and his head resting on your lap while you apply some product on his face? hell, satoru could immediately fall asleep like a baby.
your fingers always work like magic, he is obsessed with that.
anyway, it was peaceful, you know, both of you are doing your night skincare routine when…
"satoru, we ran out of chapsticks." while scrambling through the neatly organized drawer, obviously done by you, you called out for your husband who's laying on your shared bed with his favorite facemask on his face.
satoru looks up to you while his hand is occupied with his phone. you took a moment of pause to admire your loving husband. his hair is being pushed back with some cute headband that you two came across while shopping for some stuff.
"oh yeah, i forgot to buy earlier." satoru scratches his chin while smiling sheepishly. "how about the lip serum? you still have those, right?" he asked.
you let out a hesitant chuckle. "now we're talking, the thing is…i think it's missing."
"missing? sweetheart, did you perhaps bring it to your work?" your husband get up as he approached you towards the dressing table where you're currently seated.
satoru took his time and gently removed the facemask on his face since it has been sitting there for a while, also giving his face a little massage to get the extract of the mask sink into his skin before disposing the mask into the trash can.
"i did. but i swear, i put it back in my pouch before going home and now, it's gone!" meanwhile, you fumbled as you looked through your pouch again, and yup, it was indeed missing.
"now that you don't have any lip care products…" your tone drops its enthusiasm. lip products are your best friends, it is one of your favorite things that you would bring inside your casket.
your husband knew how much you love that product, so he volunteered to let you borrow his. "here, you can use my chapstick."
but as you opened the cap, the chapstick was empty. "oops…i think i already used the last portion a while ago." satoru awkwardly trailed off.
"but worry not, darling! i am always willing to share anything with you." he smiled, giving you that kind of smile you already knew so well.
he was planning something. "satoru, don't tell me you—"
satoru grabbed your waist to inch you closer to him. "yes, we're doing the traditional way of moisturizing the lips." his lips pressed against yours, already deepening it into his skilled french kiss that always makes you feel weak.
his lips keep on brushing on your own, imitating the way you apply the lip products on your lips. but seriously, his actions implies more kissing than the actual sharing of chapsticks.
the way his tongue would explore every known piece of your lips is insane. satoru memorizes your taste, inches, and sweet spots by heart. that is his weapon for you.
as his hand crawls on the back of your head, tugging it and pulling it even further to the kiss. satoru also playfully bites your lower lip, sending electric shocks to your body as you surpass a moan.
your husband continues to take the lead by nibbling on your lips. he let out a small whimper when you finally decided to also tug his hair, a thing you absolutely love whenever you do it during a make out session.
he's satoru gojo, your loving husband, and he also has an undying obsession with you.
"there, both of us have lip moisturizer now." satoru playfully licked his lips. finding the taste of strawberry chapstick even better when your lips itself was involved.
you, a blushing mess, pushed him away weakly as you are still trying to recover from the intense kiss. your lips were indeed more smooth than a while ago, it's so plumpy and a little bit bruised.
"oh shut up. you just did that to make out. with me." you halfheartedly glared at your cheeky husband.
"you're half correct about that. i indeed intend to make out with you, but i also want to share my chapstick with you." he playfully winked before wrapping his arms around your body.
"can i have one more kiss?" satoru inched his lips towards yours.
you just gave him a peck, saying it's enough for the moment since you're still not done in your routine and it made satoru pout. he decided to retreat for now since he got a steamy make out for a splendid minute.
"after work tomorrow, let's go to the mall together. we need to buy some supplies, skincare supplies." you reminded him, still your cheeks are flushed.
"and also, i am going to purchase more than we usually do on lip products." you added. actually, you're still upset yet confused about your lost lip serum.
you swore to yourself that you came home with lip serum on your pouch. but how did it disappear? were you being haunted?
the answer is…
"sure, my darling. just pick whatever you like and i'll take care of the money." your husband innocently chuckles before continuing his business he left earlier.
unbeknownst to you, you are correct that you came home with your lip serum on your pouch but you're not haunted. the culprit for this is none other than your one and only husband, gojo satoru.
he planned this whole thing out and sneakily stole your lip serum just for a dumb (i think?) reason. satoru was getting annoyed that there is something other than his lips that is being attached to your lips!
although, he wouldn't admit that to himself and hell! of course not even to you.
satoru did not regret what he did. in fact, he was smiling widely as he watched you gramble about your missing lip product not knowing it was his fault.
guess he'll be wasting money on your lip products since he doesn't plan to stop himself from stealing your future lipsies. but it was hell sure worth it if that means he could kiss you the way he wants and get rid of the thing he hates when you put it to your lips instead of him.
nevertheless, just wait 'till you found out about it, he'll be sleeping outside for some good nights.
©luvvixu2023
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